#but. there is a resistance and that's what the entire story is about

[tales-from-the-aether-ttrpg]

Something ive noticed about a lot of people who play dnd (myself included) is that… they arent really playing dnd.

I don’t mean that in the - they’ve homebrewed the system to the point where they are basically playing a completely different game. i mean it in the way that dnd is less of a game and more of a tool or frame work to tell improve stories with friends. Thats why so many tables have a significant amount of homebrew rules or play it loose with the rules - because dnd is secondary to the act of telling a story.

Unfortunately, dnd wasn’t built for such a narratively focused sandbox. It was built around dungeons and adventuring and violence in general - an aspect that is only a fraction of many stories that dnd is used to tell.

I think that is why so many people are resistant from trying other ttrpg systems that may give them a better player experience. They dont play dnd to play dnd but they dont even realize that. The game is secondary so why does it matter what game they play? Everyone at their table is already versed in dnd so they can make it work as a framework even if its trying to fit a square peg into a round hole.

This is something ive been thinking about a lot while making my ttrpg Tales from the Aether as I am inspecting my own view and experience with dnd and what i enjoy about it versus what could be done better. Why do me and my friends play dnd? To hang out and tell stories. Dnd happens to be the system i knew at the time we started and thus it is the one we used. But there is nothing particular about dnd that supports this goal while there are many things that hold us back - such as characters archetypes and classes being so ridged and having practically zero guidance for running the game outside of combat or adventuring. This is where homebrew comes in.

Ironically thats the entire premise of Tales from the Aether. I started making it years ago with the idea that this system is specifically a framework for people to tell improve stories with friends. That is the whole point. All of the mechanics revolve around giving players the tools to do what they want while the rules act more as a form of in universe world building (like a hard magic system) than actual rules.

The reason why so many people who play dnd are hesitant or straight up refuse to try out other ttrpgs is because the game is secondary. Its a tool. Its a framework that they can build off of to create the experience that they want. Its familiar so they know how to bend it, what parts to chip off or expand, to give them what they want. A new ttrpg, even if its one that gives them everything they want in a ttrpg, is unfamiliar and thus not worth investing in when they already have something that works well enough.

Idk i may be way off base here but from my own experience and from watching live plays and reading people’s takes on dnd and playing the game… thats kinda the conclusion ive come to.

#dnd #dungeons and dragons #ttrpg #ttrpg community #just some thoughts ive been moling over for a while…

[yisony07]

So my boyfriend and I have a huge Mask kink. He loves the way that the mask just melts around the head and takes over the wearers body… removing all inhibitions…

So he ordered a replica of the mask online for me to wear while we role play… but the way it glistens and the funky musky green vapor it’ll sometimes emit is giving me pause… should I wear it tonight?

You couldn’t help but smile with excitement at the sight of nightfall when you were sitting on the edge of the bed, with the mask on your hands. You were waiting for your boyfriend to come out of the bathroom anytime soon as you two planned a wild night, roleplaying with it. Your boyfriend had bought a replica of that mask online and handed it to you since he always thought you’d look awesome. You brushed your hands through its rough surface as you examined it, turning it around to see its back. 

A sigh came out of your mouth as you looked at the bathroom’s closed door. When did he plan to come out? The dawn would arrive before he got out! 

Then, you noticed the air felt different. With a sniff, you sensed a distinct, somewhat unpleasant odor; you instantly got hard, as it reminded you of the smell of your boyfriend every time he came all sweaty from working out. Then, you looked at the mask and became aware of the slightly green vapor it was emitting. 

“What?” you muttered, kind of surprised. When your boyfriend told you he ordered the mask, you assumed (and thought he did too) he was talking about a mere replica. This couldn’t be the real deal, could it?

“No,” you answered yourself. When you blinked, the vapor was no more, so all could have just been a product of your imagination. You were just desperate for your boyfriend and all the creative stories he would come up with while you kissed each other, touched each other, embraced each other in a few moments…

At that moment, a greenish glow crossed through the back surface in the blink of an eye. Your breath held still for a few seconds until it started again, smelling the funky odor. A chill ran through your spine as the thought of what that meant appeared crystal clear… Should you put it on?

“How dare I ask that?” you said out loud. In that, you hear the noise of a door being opened, but you could not care less: the mask… the real mask was in your hands.

Without thinking twice, you let yourself be carried away by that and put the mask on your face. At first, nothing happened, and for a few seconds, you could taste the sour taste of disappointment, so you tried to take it off. However, it did not move, like it was stuck. Maybe it was the sweat, you thought since it was warm, but the more you tried to peel it off, the more the mask seemed to resist being separated from your skin. 

Next, you felt like the rigid, wood structure of the mask became somewhat slippery and slid out of your hands, accompanied by an electric shock that ran through your entire body, making you moan. Then, you felt it: the mask started expanding itself and slowly covering your head, rubbing its rough, cold surface against your warm, soft skin, sending electric beams that caused you to moan out loud out of both pain and pleasure. When you felt the mask closing as a lock at the back of your head, you intuited there was nothing you could do: the mask swallowed your entire head in the blink of an eye.

For a moment, you felt nervous and tried to put it off again, but you stopped once you noticed the pain in your face as if by pulling the mask you were trying to tear apart your skin. You could not do more than just let it get its way… let it take you over…

Then you felt the mask move around your head like a violent sea against your skin, producing a warming and sexually pleasing sensation. It slowly traveled through your veins, starting from your head and accompanied by a vibration. It felt so good, so pleasurable that your cock hardened more and, you thought, seemed to grow even more. You couldn’t strain yourself, so you took off your shirt and started rubbing your hands against your abs, against your nipple; then, you unbuttoned your pants and started rubbing your dick. With each stroke, your body seemed to vibrate more, to feel warmer, and you thought of yourself more and more in bliss. 

With the highest-volumed moan, you felt like your whole world started to spin fast.

Images about lewd things you should do came to your mind as you started losing your barriers and instead filled up with desire. Why do you have to care about something you should do, being “polite” and not take action? Screw it all!!, you thought, before realizing everything around you got back to normal.

At first, nothing seemed to change, yet you were sure something was different. You instinctively took out your phone to see just as your gaze fell on the mirror. At that moment, you noticed it: your body was different, with some muscles and tattoos around, but your head stood out, with a green layer that was like a second skin that enhanced your sexiness and with those red eyes, you posed, as you knew you couldn’t look any better.

“What a rush!!” you said, licking your lips and smiling. Then you placed your gaze aside and watched your boyfriend jacking off.

“Hell yeah babe, that was amazing!” he said stopping. You immediately jumped towards him, kissed him, and took him into the bed, so that you were above him, enjoying the view of all of his body.

“Oh babe, that’ll be like a speck compared to what we’ll do right now,” you said, and, with another kiss, the both of you launched into action.

I hope you liked it and happy masked night! 💚🔥💚🔥

#loki mask transformation #he-mask #the mask #the mask transformation #themask #male transformation #male tf #gay transformation #muscle tf #musclegrowth

[opencommunion]

"I will carry my soul in my palm, And cast it into the abyss of death, Either a life that pleases a friend, or a death that angers an enemy.

When I asked my uncle Khader Shaat, 47, about the poetry verse that he inscribed on the embroidered, handmade notebook about 30 years ago in Asqalan Israeli prison, he told me that it was the fuel that made him survive.

'Clinging to a life of freedom kept me alive,' he said, remembering the notebook he made out of black fabric and framed using many beads. 

Khader Shaat was detained when he was 17, sent to prison as a child, and released as a very strong young man. ... Israel detains these children for nothing more than being Palestinian. You may be walking in the street, performing your prayer at a mosque or a church, doing your job at a company, studying for your exam to a school, or whatever and whenever. The accusation is homelove. They want the young Palestinians to grow up with fear, to stop raising their voices, to never defend their land.

Khader spent four years in Israeli detention facilities, and a part of him still exists in prison. He relives his experiences there through his memories, stories, and art.

'I still remember that some inscribed their emotions on letters or prison walls by their blood [spilled during] interrogation. It is known that the prison walls are a huge picture of emotional documentation. We used to know previous detainees through their writings.'

Pictures drawn in blood link decades of legacies of people who have been imprisoned and tortured by Israeli guards. A hidden archive of poems, letters, drawings, and handmade objects—containing stories of resistance, messages of despair, and hope—amass behind prison walls. Throughout each resounds a pulsing call for freedom. ... Detained Palestinians don't just suffer the loss of their years or their family members, but they also mourn the loss of the only hope to have a legacy outside the prison. They live in fear of losing their art.

'I had a rich notebook where I poured my years of fruitful knowledge and experience,' Khader sadly told me. 'Israel confiscated it.'

Every three or four months, Israeli occupation forces invade the cells to confiscate or damage what Palestinian detainees create. Thus, many cannot save their work unless they succeed in passing it to their lawyers and family when visiting, or to a soon-released detainee.

... 'I think I produced more than 100 pieces [while detained]' Uncle Khader said with pride. 

Amazed and excited, I asked Khader to show me more handmade art. Suddenly, the conversation changed. His voice faded, his smile disappeared, and his eyes shrunk a little. The wrinkles of age and sorrow were clearly painted on his face.

'Israeli bulldozers entirely demolished our old home in 2004. You were only three years and don't remember. There, under the rubble, I lost all my photos, memories, and handicrafts —the ones I made and the ones my detained friends gifted me after release.'

Israel chases Palestinian crafts inside and outside prison. They fear our art. They fear our memories."

#palestine #resistance #library #palestinian testimonies

[marypsue]

Yanno what, I like high fantasy just fine, but the older I get and the more I read, the more I'm starting to think I like high fantasy better when it's in-universe fantasy fiction for a different story instead of like. Me, directly reading/watching/etc it.

#i like LOTR as a series and I like the peter jackson movies #but i almost like it better through the lens of a fictional character who loves it #(also real-life friends who love it but that's not what this post is about.) #i get sooooo bored so easily of constructed-world/secondary-world stories that don't have any connection back to my own #give me a doorstopper about an entirely alien species on another planet thick with worldbuilding and I will politely decline #BUT. give me a modern-no-magic-setting fictional nerd obsessed with that doorstopper? it's go time babey #fucking loved the shannara series as a youf because it was all the tolkeinesque high fantasy constructed world stuff #BUT it was set in a POST-APOCALYPTIC FUTURE of OUR WORLD #only it had been so long that almost nobody remembered! #so you'd have characters fighting these giant monsters in these abandoned wastelands of unnaturally even rock #(parking garages) #over magical artifacts whose power would kill anyone who wasn't Chosen #(radioactive material that certain families had been mutated by and developed a resistance to over generations) #fucking love that shit. that's so much fun. #but give me the same series and take out the post-apocalyptic future part and I'd never make it through two books

[robbyykeene]

The problem I continue to have with this show is that as much as I love Johnny and Miguel’s relationship, it continues to come at the expense of Robby. And while this obviously creates Tension and Drama like you want in a tv show, there has failed to be any actual narrative acknowledgment that that is the cause of the tension and drama. And I don’t mean that there’s no acknowledgement of Robby and Miguel’s rivalry because like. Duh. But lately the show frames it as though the only problem is that Robby and Miguel are at odds, and once they finally become friends they can all be one big happy family with Johnny and live happily ever after. But Robby and Miguel’s contempt for each other was never the problem. It was Johnny’s inability to juggle the responsibilities of parenting his son while also being there for Miguel. Which is inadvertently what actually caused Miguel and Robby to dislike each other so much in the first place.

And I think that’s why I’m so just. Annoyed. Because they chose to characterize Johnny this way! They chose to make him an incredibly flawed person, and father in particular. And narratively and thematically that was a good and compelling choice! I mean, it was quite literally the foundation of the entire show. But more and more every season they’ve been outsourcing all of the legwork of Johnny’s redemption onto the characters around him. And if this is Johnny’s redemption story as they claim—if you want to create this flawed tragic character and then redeem him—then just do that. Commit to it! Don’t create a flawed character and then blame everyone around him for his problems, especially not the two kids who’ve been most affected by his faults and failings.

#like. i just KNOW this show. theyre predictable #and whats going to happen is miguel and robby will make uo and all will #be sunshine and rainbows #and yeah im exaggerating obviously #but reading what billy said in that interview #like. robby didnt ‘resist’ johnny being there for him johnny just. literally wasnt there for him. ever #and its so mind boggling genuinely #because the writers show one thing and say another #and i dont know what theyre so afraid of #of people not liking johnny? dont you WANT your audience to struggle? wasnt that the entire premise of the series? #to find this man loveable and sympathetic and then also kind of reprehensible in a lot of ways? #because if not then how is this a redemption story? #its just a male fantasy #white guy abandons his family succumbs to alcoholism beats the shit out of everyone around him and then with no work on his part is crowned #winner of everything and has everyone in his life tripping over themselves to have him forgive them #and if thats the show they want to make fine!!! but be UPFRONT about it for fucks sake #and i say shit like this and people accuse me of hating johnny and its like. you’re missing the point!!! i love johnny so much that #i actually care about him being a well rounded character!!! #i want to see him accept responsibility!!! i want to see him realize the damage HES caused as a result of his inability to process his own #trauma!!!! #i want the rich character that i was promised at the onset of this series!!! #hahdbsjsjjsjdjwjxnf #personal

[perenlop]

Truly hope that psmd won’t be the final “new” pmd game but while it currently is, I am firmly placing the “past” from that game at the chronological beginning of my pmd timeline because then we go full circle

#it begins with psmd hero and partner and ends with psmd hero and partner #also think im set on ‘’hero was reincarnated and adopted by nuzleaf as a baby’’ for my personal canon cause was talking to eve #and we brainstormed ways that it could still have the emotional story beats of the original while being more raw #and i really like them #so currently what ive got is that nuzleaf and the beheeyem adopt hero as an infant. maybe dark matter grabs them soonish after that #and nuzleaf located the spring and how to break it #and either because they wanted to drive hero closer to nuzleaf or because hero actually got close to the truth and learned they were human #beheeyem used their memory/illusion powers to make them forget all about the spring and acted as antagonists that betray both nuzleaf and he #hero #and nuzleaf uses this as a way to keep hero close and dependent on him while having an excuse to relocate to a different continent entirely #theres also the idea that he proposed the move but hero was resistant and would have been rebellious about it which he wouldnt want #god the emotionally devastating father/child dynamic here. it entices me and i want it #my psmd hero is also gonna be characterized as a shrinking violet that struggles to speak up so it works out

[eorzeashan]

I keep thinking of how Watcher 2 goes uh, Cipher, there were no ghosts in the Dark Temple, which genuinely baffled both me and Eight, because she's completely sincere about it. Like you don't believe in ghosts but you believe in guys who shoot lightning and lift things with their minds...? What do you think made those people go insane then, a gas leak?

It's actually pretty typical within SWTOR for Imperials not to question superstitious matters or anything related to the Force either out of purposeful lack of knowledge, unwillingness to believe in it given how technologically advanced the Empire is and so they defer to science, or plain fear of the unknown and everything associated with the Force, but it's always a bit of an interesting shock seeing where particular officers lines lie about it. In Watcher 2's case, spirits do not exist. Regardless of the walking specter who made your personnel be in pain for no reason a few hours prior, cough.

Eight's the rare example of an Imperial who is immediately ready to accept and understand these outlying forces so he definitely believed there were spirits and other things at work, but more than that, I headcanon that Jadus sent him into the Dark Temple alone not just as a test of skill, but to test if their Force bond had manifested and would protect him from its malicious influences. In which case, it absolutely did and the agent emerges unscathed from the Temple of babbling soldiers. This also minorly awakens Eight's potential to see the world through Jadus' eyes, and so he has proof of the mysticism that other Imps refuse to accept-- another point that most likely makes investigative branches like the IRS looked down upon.

In other words, though he can't affect such things and is more Force-blind than Theron, Eight has become a medium of sorts because of his powerful connection to Jadus that leaves a mark on his being and has the willingness to quite literally open his mind to these forces. This makes him more attuned to odd situations that involve the Dark Side while retaining a self that is utterly mundane, so he acts as a sort of middle-man between the world of Sith and Imperials: the perfect union of the force and force-blind.

In the basic class story, it hasn't manifested fully but by the time of KOTFE/ET, it takes a dramatic spike in power because of Valkorion's influence and the extreme growth he and Jadus forced on each other in order to win that final battle. This is explained in-game as Valkorion leaving the ability to use the Force or amplifying it after the expacs, but Eight will never have the ability to use it, and I have no intention of ridding him of being normal despite all the ways he isn't. However, Eight and Jadus pull out all the stops to defeat the former Emperor and this nearly kills the former-- he collapses immediately after the two Sith have a psychic battle in his head and his vitals flatline, to which Lana and Theron panic. Then, Jadus himself finally appears in the flesh and whisks his Hand away. The two Alliance directors are unable to stop him, weak as they are by the battle, and no sign is found of either Eight or Jadus when the dust clears.

Eight is found weeks later in a hidden facility with no recollection of what happened prior, though he's purposefully vague about his "savior", and what happened between them. When Lana touches him, she feels a shock-- and realizes it's Eight, who she feels all the more keenly through the Force. He realizes this too, and those eyes that bore into her now look past her vestige into the depths of her soul. It feels like someone else is there. She cuts off the temporary connection immediately, the sense of wrongness remaining.

Eight still isn't force-sensitive. Nothing registers even when they test him.

And yet, no one can explain how he sees things he shouldn't, and how it's even possible for him to connect with others in this way. They leave it as another mystery surrounding the agent with no name.

#swtor #ooc #jadorre #idk what this is i had a lot of story beat thoughts i needed to write down somewhere #but more than that ive been ruminating on writing the final Valk fight forever and what it means for Eight and Jadus #and exactly how it changes Eight #as well as trying to figure out just what their bond does to him #i like to call the potential for a force blind user to become opened to the force as 'force latency' #bc regardless of whether they can use it it DOES flow through every living thing. there's ways to acclimate yourself to it #i also don't believe you need to have the force to have the mental ability to resist or understand it #all minds are incredibly powerful complicated things and the realm of the mind only partially shares itself with the force #the force i think just makes it more liable to express itself in reality #babbling aside I really like the word medium for eight as the receptacle to help jadus feel ordinary things he no longer can as a result of #being too powerful #while learning himself how to take this mass of sheer will into his own body without being broken in turn #AND i have an entire subplot about Jadus fucking around with eight's force latency using some. unpleasant things #kick me to do it

[teaboot]

When I was a kid, I regularly lost reading privileges for "having an attitude" and "acting out".

It wasn't as simple as being told not to read during other activities- one of the first times it happened, I remember being six years old, watching my stepfather pull fistfuls of books off my bookshelf and throw them to the floor in a heaping mess while I cried and asked him to stop.

It was weird. Every other adult I knew described me as exceptionally well-behaved, but at home, it was the opposite, and it was blamed on "learning bad habits from that shit you're reading".

Because I couldn't read at home, I spent all my free time at school in the library, reading with my friends.

When I grew up and moved away, I realized that my family life was toxic and abusive, and the "attitudes" I was being punished for were standing up for myself, standing up for my younger siblings, and resisting actual, real-life psychological abuse. Because I'd learned from what I'd read that my family wasn't normal, not like my parents said it was, and in my stories, the heroes were the people who spoke out when it was hard to.

It is insane to me that there are students right now who can't access books. It is insane that books are being outlawed. It is perverse that we are stealing away an entire generation's ability to contextualize their lives, to learn about the world around them, to develop critical thinking skills and express themselves and feel connected to the world or escape from it, whatever and whenever and however they need.

That is not how you raise a compassionate, thoughtful, powerful society.

That's how you process cattle.

It's fucking disgusting.

#I know this is old news but Jesus #Every day I hear more about school book bans and I feels less real #Restriction of information is restriction of freedom #People need stories #Even bad stories #Even tragic or problematic ones #We need to set purity culture on fire I'm not kidding #Abuse mention #Abuse tw

[princesssarisa]

In the past I've shared other people's musings about the different interpretations of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. Namely, why Orpheus looks back at Eurydice, even though he knows it means he'll lose her forever. So many people seem to think they've found the one true explanation of the myth. But to me, the beauty of myths is that they have many possible meanings.

So I thought I would share a list of every interpretation I know, from every serious adaptation of the story and every analysis I've ever heard or read, of why Orpheus looks back.

One interpretation – advocated by Monteverdi's opera, for example – is that the backward glance represents excessive passion and a fatal lack of self-control. Orpheus loves Eurydice to such excess that he tries to defy the laws of nature by bringing her back from the dead, yet that very same passion dooms his quest fo fail, because he can't resist the temptation to look back at her.

He can also be seen as succumbing to that classic "tragic flaw" of hubris, excessive pride. Because his music and his love conquer the Underworld, it might be that he makes the mistake of thinking he's entirely above divine law, and fatally allows himself to break the one rule that Hades and Persephone set for him.

Then there are the versions where his flaw is his lack of faith, because he looks back out of doubt that Eurydice is really there. I think there are three possible interpretations of this scenario, which can each work alone or else co-exist with each other. From what I've read about Hadestown, it sounds as if it combines all three.

In one interpretation, he doubts Hades and Persephone's promise. Will they really give Eurydice back to him, or is it all a cruel trick? In this case, the message seems to be a warning to trust in the gods; if you doubt their blessings, you might lose them.

Another perspective is that he doubts Eurydice. Does she love him enough to follow him? In this case, the warning is that romantic love can't survive unless the lovers trust each other. I'm thinking of Moulin Rouge!, which is ostensibly based on the Orpheus myth, and which uses Christian's jealousy as its equivalent of Orpheus's fatal doubt and explicitly states "Where there is no trust, there is no love."

The third variation is that he doubts himself. Could his music really have the power to sway the Underworld? The message in this version would be that self-doubt can sabotage all our best efforts.

But all of the above interpretations revolve around the concept that Orpheus looks back because of a tragic flaw, which wasn't necessarily the view of Virgil, the earliest known recorder of the myth. Virgil wrote that Orpheus's backward glance was "A pardonable offense, if the spirits knew how to pardon."

In some versions, when the upper world comes into Orpheus's view, he thinks his journey is over. In this moment, he's so ecstatic and so eager to finally see Eurydice that he unthinkingly turns around an instant too soon, either just before he reaches the threshold or when he's already crossed it but Eurydice is still a few steps behind him. In this scenario, it isn't a personal flaw that makes him look back, but just a moment of passion-fueled carelessness, and the fact that it costs him Eurydice shows the pitilessness of the Underworld.

In other versions, concern for Eurydice makes him look back. Sometimes he looks back because the upward path is steep and rocky, and Eurydice is still limping from her snakebite, so he knows she must be struggling, in some versions he even hears her stumble, and he finally can't resist turning around to help her. Or more cruelly, in other versions – for example, in Gluck's opera – Eurydice doesn't know that Orpheus is forbidden to look back at her, and Orpheus is also forbidden to tell her. So she's distraught that her husband seems to be coldly ignoring her and begs him to look at her until he can't bear her anguish anymore.

These versions highlight the harshness of the Underworld's law, and Orpheus's failure to comply with it seems natural and even inevitable. The message here seems to be that death is pitiless and irreversible: a demigod hero might come close to conquering it, but through little or no fault of his own, he's bound to fail in the end.

Another interpretation I've read is that Orpheus's backward glance represents the nature of grief. We can't help but look back on our memories of our dead loved ones, even though it means feeling the pain of loss all over again.

Then there's the interpretation that Orpheus chooses his memory of Eurydice, represented by the backward glance, rather than a future with a living Eurydice. "The poet's choice," as Portrait of a Lady on Fire puts it. In this reading, Orpheus looks back because he realizes he would rather preserve his memory of their youthful, blissful love, just as it was when she died, than face a future of growing older, the difficulties of married life, and the possibility that their love will fade. That's the slightly more sympathetic version. In the version that makes Orpheus more egotistical, he prefers the idealized memory to the real woman because the memory is entirely his possession, in a way that a living wife with her own will could never be, and will never distract him from his music, but can only inspire it.

Then there are the modern feminist interpretations, also alluded to in Portrait of a Lady on Fire but seen in several female-authored adaptations of the myth too, where Eurydice provokes Orpheus into looking back because she wants to stay in the Underworld. The viewpoint kinder to Orpheus is that Eurydice also wants to preserve their love just as it was, youthful, passionate, and blissful, rather than subject it to the ravages of time and the hardships of life. The variation less sympathetic to Orpheus is that Euyridice was at peace in death, in some versions she drank from the river Lethe and doesn't even remember Orpheus, his attempt to take her back is selfish, and she prefers to be her own free woman than be bound to him forever and literally only live for his sake.

With that interpretation in mind, I'm surprised I've never read yet another variation. I can imagine a version where, as Orpheus walks up the path toward the living world, he realizes he's being selfish: Eurydice was happy and at peace in the Elysian Fields, she doesn't even remember him because she drank from Lethe, and she's only following him now because Hades and Persephone have forced her to do so. So he finally looks back out of selfless love, to let her go. Maybe I should write this retelling myself.

Are any of these interpretations – or any others – the "true" or "definitive" reason why Orpheus looks back? I don't think so at all. The fact that they all exist and can all ring true says something valuable about the nature of mythology.

#mythology #greek mythology #orpheus #eurydice #orpheus and eurydice #analysis #interpretations #adaptations #long

[neil-gaiman]

So...There's a scene in Good Omens Season 2 where we need an extract from Aziraphale's Diary in the 1820s. And as we were about to shoot him writing it, Douglas asked if we could see a bit of the previous diary entry as well. So I wrote one. As it turned out, we are too close up to read anything of the previous diary extract and only the final line is visible, if that.

I hated to imagine it going to waste.

So here's a small Valentine's Day gift for any of you who need cheering up. You will need to imagine the rest of the story.

“Madam!” I said, “I do believe that you have entirely misunderstood me!”

The countess drew herself to her full height, which I believe would have been about five feet and seven inches, and stared at me, quite puzzled. “No,” she said, “I believe that it is you who are mistaken, Mr Fell. For never have I met a man of any kind who could resist my blandishments.” And then, replacing her garments (which took much longer than shedding them), she added, “I do not know what manner of a man you are, Mr Fell. I trust you will still help my brother with his little problem.”

“I am still there for him,” I assured her. “He is as good as freed from his durance vile.”

“You are an angel,” said the countess.

And so we left the matter. This morning, her brother rejoined her, released (by me) from debtor's gaol. She was by all accounts delighted to see him.

POSTSCRIPT:

It appears that she was not a countess, he was not her brother, and they fled together for France leaving many debts behind them. I told Crowley all about the matter over a glass of claret, but he did not appear to be as surprised as I had expected.

[anthurak]

Something I’ve always found rather curious about the Adventure Time fandom, specifically Bubbline shippers, is that nobody seems to talk about how the show slipped in what might be the most angsty, hardcore and emotionally raw Bubbline stories disguised as a wacky Rashomon-style recap in the episode Ketchup.

Like it’s pretty clear that Marceline is doing the whole ‘Lollipop Girl and Rockstar Girl’ puppet-show because she doesn’t want to traumatize BMO with what happened while they, Finn and Jake were gone, and also because she herself doesn’t want to revisit those memories directly.

But when we start reading between the lines and recognize that Marceline’s embellishments are really more to tone DOWN events, I think we get a very stark and raw depiction of what Marceline was doing when Patience set off Ooo’s elemental apocalypse.

Just to kick things off, how much does anyone want to bet that this joke translates to ‘Marceline and Bubblegum had a fight and Marcy was giving Bonnie some space… and because of that, Marceline wasn’t there to protect Bonnie when she was kidnapped by Patience.’?

Kinda adds another layer to Marcy’s whole ‘I was so afraid something bad would happen to you’ breakdown in Come Along With Me, doesn’t it?

Next we have ‘Rockstar Girl smacking off the potato-heads growing on her’ which pretty easily translates to; ‘while everyone else was getting overrun by the elements, Marceline was able to fight off the elemental contamination for possibly entire days while she tried to find a way to help Bubblegum’. And given what we see with Finn and Jake only able to resist the contamination for maybe a few hours at a time, and how willpower was one of the only things that could hold it off, that says a LOT about just how DESPERATE Marcy was to help Bonnie. I mean, you want a really hardcore and messed up image? Imagine if Marceline was actively cutting or RIPPING off the contaminated parts of herself to keep it from spreading and regrowing those parts with her vampiric regeneration?

Then we have ‘Rockstar Girl went after the Blue Tranch’, which I can only imagine translates to ‘Marceline going on a GOLB-DAMMNED WARPATH to hunt down Patience St. Pim’. And let’s remember that A. Patience was currently a super-charged Elemental and B. Marceline would still be fighting off elemental contamination herself, whether the Candification from Bubblegum, the Ice-ification from Patience, or even both.

I mean, when we think about it; ‘Rockstar Girl played some really loud music that the Blue Tranch didn’t like’ quite possibly translates to the most insane battle of the entire show. Like on one side we’ve got Patience St. Pim, seasoned Elemental who could already make Ice King look like an amateur, super-charged with elemental energy making her probably the most powerful Ice Elemental in thousands if not millions of years. And on the other side, we’ve got Marceline, consumed and possibly more than half-crazed with rage, fear and desperation to help Bonnie, going ALL-OUT with her numerous vampire powers, possibly some of her demonic powers, all while fighting off the encroaching elemental contamination.

And if ‘The Blue Tranch begged Rockstar Girl to stop and go away’ is anything to go by, I think we can assume that Marcy utterly WRECKED Patience’s SHIT. As in, Patience may well have ended this fight with an axe in her gut, a claw choking the life out her and Marceline threatening to devour her very SOUL if she didn’t tell her how to help Bonnie.

(Here’s another fun thought: Something that notably separates Patience from the other current elementals of Ooo is that whereas Princess Bubblegum, Flame Princess and Slime Princess are all physical manifestations OF their elements (Gum, Fire and Slime, respectively), while Patience is human. Yet when we see her during the arc, she seems to have lost her human body and assumed fully elemental form as well. Now we could of course assume that this is simply due to the elemental overcharge just like the others. Buuuuttt… what if Patience was FORCED to assume this new form because her human body could no longer SURVIVE after the utter THRASHING she received from Marceline?)

Finally, we of course have the end. Something which seems all too easy to imagine even with Marceline’s toning down of events:

Marcy rushing back to the Candy Kingdom as fast as she can. Even though she’s exhausted from her fight with Patience and the days spent fighting off the elemental contamination. To the point where now she can only barely hold it off and maintain her sanity. Perhaps she wonders if this is what it was like for Simon during their time together…

Even though she knows speeding back this fast is only draining her strength faster, but that doesn’t matter to her. Because what matters right now is the trinket, potion, or something or other clutched in her hand that Patience gave her. Something that Marcy can’t be sure will even work. But she hopes it will. That’s the only thing keeping her going, the only thing holding her together at this point.

A blind, desperate HOPE that this will save Bonnie…

When she finally returns to what was once the Candy Kingdom, Marceline finds the massive tower of gum. Perhaps like Finn and Jake later on, Marceline at first isn’t sure what she’s looking at and thinks Bonnie is at the top. So she flies right to the top in a burst of speed that drains her already dwindling strength even further.

And there Marcy finds Bonnie. Or rather, what Bonnie has BECOME. Perhaps she doesn’t even remember Marcy.

Perhaps for Marcy, this is like losing Simon all over again. Except instead of the father who raised and cared for her over ten years, it’s a woman that Marcy has loved for the better part of a millennium. A woman she was only just able to start loving again after so long. But now, just like Simon… she’s gone.

And this realization does what all the elemental power of Ooo could not.

It breaks Marceline.

Just like that, Marceline doesn’t even try to use the ‘antidote’ Patience gave her. Instead, perhaps Marcy gives Bonnie one last kiss and just… accepts the madness.

Because now, at least they can be together.

#adventure time #adventure time rambling #adventure time ketchup #marceline #marceline abadeer #bonnibel bubblegum #princess bubblegum #bubbline #patience st pim #bubbline angst

[rootbeerworshiper]

Under the Table

Reader x Matt Sturniolo

summery: you’re left with no choice but to tutor the star hockey player, Matt Sturniolo, but as much as you pride yourself on not being into hockey players, not even you can resist.

warnings: smut!!!! fem!recieving, unprotected sex (reader on birth control), dumification kink if u squint, dom!matt, male!receiving, slight aftercare, fluff, yeah guys idk

love, sienna <3

being an english major at Boston University was no easy feat.

you were constantly engulfed in numerous amounts of homework, from essays to poetry analysis, you were swamped.

money wasn’t something that you grew up from, and with the large amounts of school work piling up, you didn’t have time for a job.

so when your professor mentioned tutoring, you were sold.

english was always something you were naturally good at and you prided yourself on keeping the same grades you had in high school while in college.

tutoring can’t be that hard right?

wrong.

you had put out a few flyers that offered your services and the one person who took you up on that offer was none other than Matt Sturniolo.

although the two of you went to the same high school you had never spoken outside of a couple class assignments—this was more than okay with you.

Matt fit the description of a dumb popular jock to a tee, and you considered the fact that he got into the same college as you unfortunate.

after hours of hard work and effort went into your acceptance, the last thing you needed to see was a post from your highschool congratulating the Matthew Sturniolo on his D1 scholarship to the school.

hockey was a pretty big part of New England but it was never a sport that spoke to you, well not that most sports did.

the entire atmosphere of hockey boys was enough to give you the ick and yet here you are, sat alongside the schools top player, trying to get him to form an essay.

“you have to have an argumentative statement, something to base the whole essay off of and interest the reader” you state, trying your best to not get annoyed at the clueless boy.

he stares at the blank google doc. “well what am i arguing?”

you sigh. this was harder than you thought. “the main theme of this essay is supposed to be on complexity. you chose ‘Beartown’ as your independent novel so you have to argue how the text is complex, or what makes it so complex.”

it was like talking to a toddler, the information going in one ear and out the other. “i can’t write the essay for you Matt”

he groans. “why not?”

you think for a second, once again attempting to not get frustrated. “the story is told from multiple perspectives right?” he nods. “why might that be more complex than a story just told from one?”

it’s clear he’s thinking, and you just hope what you said made sense. “well adding more perspectives would make it like complex because it builds a story that has layers”

subconsciously you smack his arm out of excitement. “yes! there you go. in better words you have your statement to build this essay off of”

you’re heart melts at his smile in response.

sure, you hated his guts, but you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t incredibly hot.

it’s difficult to peel your eyes off of him as he maintains eye contact with you, but you have work to do, and you won’t be yet another girl who grows infatuated with Matt Sturniolo—you just won’t.

the next few sessions were as normal as they could be.

it wasn’t easy to keep him on topic, he was always distracted by something.

sometimes he just looks at you, and you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it—often diverting the conversation to something else.

trying to get him to understand poetry was a whole new headache.

you had spent hours in the library at this point after finally completing the dreaded essay, now crafting an analysis on different poems.

if you hadn’t picked such a comfortable outfit for this session you’d probably hate your life right now—so you mentally thank yourself for choosing a sweat suit.

to say you were both exhausted would be an understatement.

trying to teach a hockey boy the importance of the placement of words on a page and why capitalization can help emphasize certain points was tiring—you could tell he was tired too by the way he buried his face in his hands periodically.

“maybe we should just call it a night” you say, closing your laptop and yawning.

the last thing you expected was for him to disagree. “no wait i really need this done for tomorrow’s class it can’t be late. if i fail this class i can’t play in playoffs”

right. how could you forget the beloved hockey player will miss out on the big game if you don’t help him.

“i’d stay and help you but the library closes in ten minutes so there’s not much more we can do” you reply, already defeated.

Matt however has more ambition to complete this assignment than you expected. “we can go to my dorm”

you give him a look of slight disbelief. “your dorm?”

he just nods excitedly. “yeah my roommates out of town right now and we only have like 2 more poems left. it’s perfect”

“i don’t know Matt i’m tired” you sigh. not only were you tired but the idea of being in a college boys dorm was not the most appealing.

the eyes he gives you might be the death of you. “please?” you rub your forehead with your hand as if to release tension. “i’ll buy you red bull”

you smile at this. “fine. but i can’t be out for forever”

“you won’t be i swear. i’ll be so dialled in” he smiles. a sight that you are more than okay with seeing.

the walk to his dorm is short, with a stop at the campus confectionery for two sugar free red bulls.

not a lot is said as you enter the main building, walking through the halls as you near Matt’s room.

he goes to open the door but pauses. “don’t judge the decorations in here”

you smile at this, expecting something along with lines of hockey sticks taped on the walls. but what you were met with was much different.

there’s white christmas lights strung on the wall and shelves filled with numerous books and journals. all the furniture was a cohesive shade of brown and alongside the hockey posters were different vintage prints.

in the least weird way possible, you were jealous of his dorm. “this is not what i was expecting” you gawk as he shuts the door behind you.

it’s visible how embarrassed he is so you do your best to shut that down. “i love it actually, if you showed this to any of my friends they’d assume that i decorated it”

he smiles now but doesn’t touch on his ‘girl english major’ room decor tendencies. “uh i’ll just clear off the desk here and then we can get to work, you don’t want the overhead light on do you?” he asks, immediately earning a shake of the head from you.

so now you’re sat next to him, opening your laptop in the midst of the dim lit room as you sip on the red bell purchased by the brunette. “okay where do you want to start? you have two more poems to analyze”

he just rubs his eyes. “you pick”

getting him to focus would be an impossible task “if you’re too tired we can stop or-“

he shakes his head immediately, as if to wake himself up. “no i’m good to keep going, just need a sec to wake up” he defends.

“okay we’ll start with this one then, do you wanna read it?” you look to the tired boy.

“can you? i’ll listen i swear” you groan but agree, it’s been a long day and you don’t want to push him too much.

so you begin reading. “you must not wonder, though you think it strange” he places his hand on your thigh almost immediately. “Matt”

“keep reading, don’t worry about me” he leans into you slightly more, looking at the words on the screen over your shoulder, his breath hot on your neck.

“to see me hold my louring head so low” you continue, his hand inching closer to your centre.

normally you’d be against this—you’d be standing up and telling him off.

but something about the way his hand covers majority of your upper thigh and the smell of his breath has you insane.

so you try your best to focus on the words, not the pooling wetness in your underwear. “And that my eyes take no delight to range” he places a kiss to your neck—so incredibly gentle it could make your skin crawl.

you let out a sigh, trying to avoid throwing your head back as his hand makes contact with your clothed clit. “keep reading baby cmon”

you do as you’re told. “About the gleams on which your face do grow” he kisses down your neck now as his hand increases his gentle pressure.

subconsciously you buck your hips up—eager for more stimulation. “yeah you like that?” he whispers in your ear as you fight back a moan, instead just nodding. “i need words” he takes his hand off, still keeping his face close.

“fuck Matt yes i like it, i need more” you whine, shutting your eyes as his hand toys with the hem of your sweats.

“can i take these off?” he asks, tugging slightly.

you nod eagerly. “please” you lift our hips up and he slides your sweats off, leaving you in your underwear.

his hand roams your lower half, his palm placing pressure on your clit as his fingers explore your clothed entrance. “god your soaked. i knew you’d fall apart under my touch”

there’s the cockiness that normally you hate, right now though? it only turned you on more. “keep reading cmon pretty girl”

you open your eyes to look back at the screen. “the mouse with one hath-“ you let out a breath as his fingers go back to toying with your clit. “broken out of trap”

“not so smart now huh?” he whispers.

you’re a whimpering mess now with the way his thumb rubs small circles on your clit as his mouth places sloppy kisses on your exposed neck. “Matt please i need you”

this must have been enough for him to stop teasing because he immediately stands up, placing your hands on his shoulders as he grabs you legs to pick you up—finally placing his lips on yours.

it’s messy and it’s desperate but it’s also fucking hot.

he leans over, letting your back fall on his bed as he hovers over you.

wasting no time he signals for you to lift your arms as he brings your hoodie over your head, revealing your bare chest. he smiles at this. “such a fucking slut tutoring me without a bra on”

he hovers back over you now, whispering in your ear once more before his fingers begin to toy with your already hardened nipples. “couldn’t focus when i saw your nipples poking out of your hoodie, begging to be touched”

you can’t even reply with words, too focused on the way his thumb grazes your sensitive nipple.

you’re a mess and he’s barely done a thing, already arching into him, but you try to gain focus—if he gets to see you like this you deserve the same.

without words you reach for his shirt, struggling to lift it up as you’re overcome with pleasure.

he knows exactly what you want through, taking his hands off of temporarily, now hovering over you once more.

you can’t help but gawk at his physique. it’s hard to focus on the tattoos when your eyes are drawn to his abs that are extenuated by the dim lighting.

“gonna make you feel so good baby” he begins to make his way down. “you’ve spent so much time on me, gotta make it up to you, yeah?” he kisses your clit through your underwear.

at this point your throbbing. “yes” you spit out.

he pulls down your underwear, leaving you completely exposed for him as he stares at you once more, fully taking in the sight in front of him.

you hide your face with your hands, too embarrassed at the mere vulnerability. “let me see your face baby” you shyly remove your hands, looking up at the boy now—you’re practically begging with your eyes.

“you’re so fucking perfect” he leans back down to give you one more kiss, this one more intimate than the last few. “so much better than my imagination” you giggle at this but before you know it he’s back down where you want him, pushing your legs open as he spits on folds—mesmerized by the way it slides down.

before you can complain again he finally makes contact, licking up the wetness his voice has caused before focusing on your clit.

you’re already incredibly turned on, the feeling of his warm tongue on you causes you to let out an almost uncontrollable moan.

he lifts off, kissing your clit. “shhh baby, i have neighbours” he brings his hand to your mouth and you waste no time sucking on them to muffle your moans.

almost immediately he gets back to work, as if he’s starving for you—and to be fair he might be.

his constant flicking of his tongue on your clit has you whimpering and moving around under his touch—you’re already incredibly sensitive.

it’s like he’s in a trance, giving you his full attention, until momentarily he backs out for air. “wanna cum on my fingers?” you practically moan at his words, nodding frantically. “what’d i say about your words”

his hand continues working on your clit at a slow pace while he speaks. “yes- fuck wanna cum on your fingers” he smiles at this and immediately brings two finger into your entrance, if it weren’t for his hand that immediately covered your mouth the neighbours would be sick of you.

he goes slow at first, hitting your g-spot with every curl of his long fingers. “you’re so good Matt” you moan as he speeds up. “so fucking good”

it’s clear he liked the praise by the way he dips his head back down, his tongue making familiar contact with your clit.

you’re gone. absolutely spent under his touch.

his pace quickens when he feels you clench around him, his tongue forming small teasing circles on your clit while his fingers dig impossibly deeper into you.

“fuck” you throw your head back. “i’m cl- fuck i’m close” his already fast pace quickens, his tongue now applying a pressure to your clit you didn’t know was possible.

before you can even warn him your legs close on his pretty brown hair as you arch your back. it’s practically impossibly to stay quiet, his pace not slowing down at all as you rock your hips through your orgasam.

eventually he pulls back, not wanting to overstimulate you too much.

your practically out of breath from holding back your moans but his face comes to meet yours once more. “you did so good for me” he kisses you before you can reply, the rhythm of your lips together is comfortable.

as great as it is, you can’t help but feel his buldge through his pants on your thigh, so you do what you’re sure he appreciates and you reach your hand down—immediately wrapping your hand around the outline.

he stops kissing you and immediately drops his head to your shoulder and you fingers continue. “you gonna take your pants off or am i making you cum in your underwear”

he chuckles softly at this, but nonetheless gets straight to work sliding off his pants and leaning in to kiss you once more.

you decide to take initiative, flipping him over and immediately straddling him—the look in his eyes is priceless.

if you could take a picture you would. never in your life has someone looked so incredibly fuckable, but here was Matt Sturniolo, laying beneath you with his messy hair and eyes full of lust.

you waste no more time, grinding your hips on his clothed bulge and kissing along his collarbone—the poor boy practically shivers at your delicate touch. “if you don’t do something i swear to god-“ you grab his bulge now, looking at the boy who’s eyes have just squeezed shut.

“what was that?” its unlike you to be dominant, but it’s also unlike you to fuck a hockey player so really all cards were on the table.

you give in though, crawling down to lick his pre cum through his boxers, teasing slightly more before pulling them down all together—the sight is mouth watering.

he’s a mess beneath you as you look at him, his dick is a good size, longer than it is thick, the way his wetness practically glistens on his tip is enough to have you flustered. “cmon pretty girl stop teasing” he says from beneath you, his hands behind his head as he watches you.

you pull your hair back slightly as you place your flat tongue on his tip, making him hiss above you as he uses his hands to keep your hair out of your face.

almost instantly you get to work, taking as much of him as you can, letting your saliva drip down on his length as you slowly lift your head up and down.

his whimpers go straight to your core, your body already begging for more as you swirl your tongue on his tip.

you pop off almost unexpectedly, and speak before he can even say anything. “i wanna ride you” you wipe the saliva off your mouth as you look at the shocked boy who’s smile grows slowly.

“yeah?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows, unsure.

you nod your head sitting up more now to face him. “yeah” you smile and before he can fully reach for his bedside table you stop him. “i’m on birth control” you begin to crawl down leaving kisses on his stomach.

“and i.”

kiss.

“wanna.”

kiss.

“feel.”

kiss

“you.”

his breathing immediately increases as you line yourself up, his hands making their way to your waist to assist you as you lower onto his length.

you let out a breath as you adjust to the size. “fuck you feel so good around me” Matt practically moans out.

it takes a moment for you to adjust fully, but you begin moving up and down and the boy beneath you is a moaning mess.

you rock your hips a little faster, leaning forward now he places his mouth on your nipple and you can feel the way he moans into you—it’s hot as fuck.

it doesn’t take long for you to feel close, and it’s like Matt can tell because he immediately places his hand in between your bodies and places a familiar touch to your throbbing clit.

you pick up the pace, chasing your high. “Matt fuck i’m so-“ you just moan again, unable to speak.

through his many heavy breaths he replies. “me too pretty girl”

a few more rocks of your hips and you feel his warmth fill you up as your stomach feels the familiar clenching feeling, his hand moving quickly beneath you, causing your second orgasam of the night.

by now your both exhausted, tired from doing so much school and well, from fucking too.

you basically plop down beside him, the two of you out of breath.

“i like that form of payment” you joke, causing Matt to nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck while your fingers begin to play with his hair.

you feel his smile on your collarbone and his hand makes its way across your stomach. “guess i’ll have to get tutored by you more often” he sighs, standing up and placing his boxers back on. he walks to the bathroom and you’re confused for a second, but he comes back out with a damp cloth, and begins cleaning the mess the two of you made.

Matt may be a dumb hockey player, but his pros definitely outweighed the cons.

he offers you one of his shirts which you welcome with open arms as you slide your underwear back on. it’s safe to say this is the giddiest you’ve ever felt after a hookup.

now that he’s back in bed you immediately lean into him, as tired as you are you still want to me close to him, wrapping your leg over his waist.

he rubs your bare thigh as he unplugs the lights and kisses the top of our head. “goodnight baby”

you nuzzle yourself impossibly closer to him. “goodnight Matt”

and with that the two of you pass out. the day completely drained both of you, and with the comfort of each other you were gone.

the next morning came by quick, the sun immediately waking you up. the boy next to you is still sound asleep and as cute as ever but the new day means his poetry analysis needs to be completed—for once you weren’t opposed to cheating.

you get up as slowly and quietly as you can, grabbing the laptop off of his desk and bringing it back into bed with you.

it doesn’t take long for you to complete the last two poems, you make sure to use less big words and get a couple things wrong so as to hide your actual identity.

just as you finish writing the last sentence Matt wakes up, tossing and turning slightly before his eyes meet you.

you smile at the sight of the sleepy boy. “good morning, how’d you sleep?”

he brings his arm to your waist, pulling you into him as you place the laptop to the side. “i was knocked the fuck out. what are you up to?”

“may have just finished your poetry analysis” a grin enters your face at the shocked expression Matt shows instantly.

“holy shit really?” he sits up now, hands still on you.

you play with his fingers. “it didn’t take that long or anything”

he scoffs. “i forgot you were a genius” you just kiss him in reply.

“you need to get ready, you have playoffs to train for” you say, you had noticed his calendar had a practice today when you were analyzing his room last night.

a few minutes later and Matt is ready, it really doesn’t take long at all to be a man.

you sit at the edge of his bed, putting on your sweats from last night.

he walks over towards you, hovering over you as he brushes through your hair with his fingers. “i’ll see you tomorrow night yeah?”

you furrow your eyebrows. “what’s tomorrow night?”

“playoffs” he smiles. “figured you might wanna watch your boyfriend score a few goals”

his confidence never fails to amuse you. “boyfriend huh?” you tease and he just nods, looking for confirmation. “guess as your girlfriend i’ll stop by for a bit” he misses you immediately, a smile still on his face when you pull back. “but don’t expect me to be screaming for you, that’s really not my scene”

“i’d expect nothing less”

a/n: this literally spawned out of mid air but omg so cutesy i want hockey matt in my life rn

taglist: @lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @1hvrrington1 @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift

@junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @flowernoemie @sturnified @alicejwebster @s7urnfilms @queenofawkwardfangirling @madsdogst @justlivinglive @safara05 @k-312-xx @sluttycupsworld

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo oneshots #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets smut

[marvelfilth]

The mustache

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Natasha crashes your date

Masterlist

You let a fake laugh bubble out of your mouth for what feels like a hundredth time this evening. Your date looks smug, her eyes trailing over your form, almost leering. She takes a sip of her wine and licks her lips slowly, daring you to look.

You don't.

You can almost hear Natasha say I told you so.

You clear your throat and take another bite of a perfectly made steak - the only saving grace of this disastrous date.

You mentally cringe, closing your eyes briefly. Objectively, the date is going well - she showed up on time, held the door for you, helped you to your seat and made perfect small talk, occasionally throwing in a joke or two. You can excuse her wandering eyes, knowing you've been throwing mixed signals all evening.

You nod along to whatever story she's telling, smiling and chuckling when it's appropriate. You barely resist the urge to excuse yourself. You chew on your lower lip, wondering how you allowed yourself to get in such a mess.

Your phone chimes once, screen lightning up with a new notification.

Natasha.

Yep. Here's your answer.

You look at your date, hating how different her smile is from your best friends. It's too large, too open and not even half as genuine. Natasha's smiles are small, barely noticeable, but they're enough to make your breath come short.

You sigh. You need to stop comparing your every date to Natasha.

“Do you mind if I take a look? It might be important,” you ask, reaching for your phone. She nods happily, waving the waiter over for another glass of wine.

How bad is it?

You snort, coughing immediately to cover up the sound and reaching for your glass.

Another message appears right in front of your eyes.

That bad?

You choke on your wine, discreetly looking around, but coming up short.

Six o'clock, dumbass.

You wait a moment and look right behind you, mouth falling open when you finally see her.

She's sitting three tables down, wearing your favorite hoodie and a black cap. With sunglasses covering her eyes. In a dimly lit restaurant. What makes you let out a strangled laugh, though, is a perfect old fashioned mustache glued right under her nose. She twirls both ends around her fingers, curling them up, before lowering her glasses and sending you an exaggerated wink.

The best spy in the world, the woman who made entire governments collapse, is sitting right behind you, looking like a child playing dress up.

You whip around, your face red, and wave off your date's concerned look. “I'm alright.”

She nods, all too happy to continue talking about all of the famous people she's met through her job.

You hide your phone under the table and shoot your best friend a text.

You're ridiculous

Her reply comes instantly.

And yet you love me.

Her words hit a little too close to home.

You are hopelessly in love with your best friend.

Another message comes through.

What's wrong?

You frown, eyes darting around. You didn't even do anything to warrant the question.

And don't even try to lie. I can tell something's wrong.

You sigh, tell Natasha everything is fine, and place your phone face down on the table, your date still recounting a story of how she met some actress.

The next half an hour is tense. You can feel Natasha's eyes on you. You can hear her plotting a way to get you out of here, but you know you have to at least try to make it work, if not with… Connie? Courtney? Then with someone else, before you go completely mad.

Your phone rings. You can't stop yourself from picking it up.

“Sorry, it’s an emergency.” Your excuse sounds bad even to your own ears, and you wince when your date pointedly looks away with pursed lips.

“Do you want me to throw her out of the window?” She starts without a preamble. “If not, I have a knife in my boot and you know how good I am with knives.”

“Can't you handle it without me?” You ask, knowing Natasha will play along. Your date reaches for her purse, dejected. Guilt swirls in your chest, and you contemplate your next words. Maybe you should stay and-

“Don't feel bad, she's been looking at the blonde to your right since she came in,” Natasha drawls, “and no, I can't handle it without you. I need you back home.”

You blush, biting on your lower lip.

“I'm sorry, but there's been an-”

“Just go,” your date cuts you off, “I'll handle the bill.” Her eyes are on the blonde girl before she's done speaking, and you leave with your conscience clear.

Natasha catches up to you outside and leads you to her corvette - her sunglasses and cap are gone, but that ridiculous mustache is still in place.

“What do you think?” She asks as she opens the door for you before going around the car and taking a seat behind the wheel. “I like the look.”

You snort and shake your head, amused with your best friend's antics. “It's… something.”

She rolls her eyes, starting the engine. “I know you love it.”

You hum, relaxing against the soft leather, your worries stoved away by Natasha's calming presence.

“Why do you keep going on dates if you hate it so much?” She asks when you reach Compound gates.

You sigh, think of an answer that would get her off your back without making her suspicious.

“I just… I-” you stutter, wincing.

Great.

She raises an eyebrow, looking absolutely ridiculous, but so, so beautiful, it makes your entire chest ache.

The car comes to a stop, and Natasha focuses all of her attention on you.

“I need to get over someone.”

There, you've said it.

“Who?” She asks, and for the first time in all the years you've known her you can't read her at all.

“You don't know them.”

She looks ahead, her jaw clenched tight. “How long?”

You blink away the tears. “A few years.”

She looks down at her lap, her fingers tapping against her thigh. “Who?” She asks again.

“Natasha…”

“Is it Carol?” Her voice is tight, her eyes dart around the street.

“God no,” you chuckle, thinking about your blond friend. Valkyrie would kill you on the spot if you even looked at her the wrong way, not that you're interested anyway. They need to get over themselves and finally admit their feelings to each other. Anyone can see their pining from a mile away.

“Kate?”

You shake your head. “You don't know them.”

“Then tell me. What would it matter?”

“Nat, can we just-”

“Tell me.”

You groan, and turn to open the door, but Natasha’s hand landing on your thigh stops you. You swallow, freezing on the spot.

“Please.”

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the inevitable. “It's you,” you whisper.

The hand on your thigh clumps tight. “What?”

“It's you,” you repeat, feeling braver after the admission. “Always you.”

She lets out a deep, shaky breath, before reaching for your face with her other hand. “Look at me, please.”

You face her, eyes still closed, a few tears sliding down your cheeks. They're wiped away a moment later, and your face gets enveloped in the softest warmth.

“Open your eyes.”

You swallow, and do as she asked. She looks at you like you're the most precious thing in the world.

“I love you.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words, lips falling open. “What?”

She smiles, her thumb tracing patterns on your wet cheek. “I love you.”

You look at her for a long moment, taking in her features - her forest green eyes, tender and soft, the slope of her nose, so kissable. Your eyes trail lower and then suddenly a loud laugh makes its way out of your chest. You bend, clutching your stomach, happy tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.

Natasha looks delightfully confused.

“I'm sorry, it's just…” you giggle, pointing at her face, “the mustache.”

She groans, tearing it away. “I've been going crazy all this time, you know.”

“Yeah?” You grin, head spinning.

“Yeah,” she says before claiming your lips. She's soft, so soft it makes your toes curl and your chest get warm and fuzzy. The kiss is gentle, loving. You mewl against her, opening your mouth and welcoming her tongue.

The kiss grows heated.

“I,” you gasp between the kisses, “I love you. So much.”

You can feel her blinding smile in the next kiss, and the one that comes after.

#natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff #black widow x you #black widow x reader #black widow #the mustache

[heartsforhavik]

what if the mk1 men were down bad for you…

upon seeing you walk into the room, johnny cage flexes his muscles ever so slightly and suddenly he’s telling the funniest story in the world to whoever he was already speaking to. he wants to catch your eye and gain your attention so badly. for you, he would make himself look like a fool. only as long as you look his way and give him even a slightest bit of attention, he’s satisfied.

when kuai liang notices you nearby, his entire body feels as if it’s on fire and he immediately worries about his appearance. does he look good? is his hair neatly tied up? he would make an attempt to approach you as soon as he got the chance, and try to strike up a conversation with you. if he didn’t at least say “hi,” he would feel like a fool for missing a great opportunity to engage in a conversation with you.

bi-han pretends he isn’t staring at you every time you’re in a room together. he is the grandmaster of the lin kuei, he must not engage in a romantic relationship. but he can’t help but feel his dark, cold heart light on fire at the sight of you. he yearns to go up to you and say something every time he sees you, but he holds back and settles for just admiring your looks from afar.

tomas vrbada is not afraid of showing his affection towards you. he believes that everyone should make the most of their limited lives, so he is very open about his advances towards you. the problem is, he’s a bit awkward and his efforts come across as more anxious than flirtacious. he would give himself a small pep talk before he talks to you, and he would be full of confidence and hope that the interaction would go well. but he would end up stammering or messing up his words when he speaks to you, and then he would just give up and run away. (he went to johnny for some advice after his mess-up, and it still didn’t work.)

zeffeero doesn’t think of himself as someone deserving of love. when he sees you close by, his heart beats fast and his face feels as if it’s on fire. he knows he has feelings for you, but he resists the urge to make a move. he could if he wanted to. but he doesn’t think he deserves to be joyful and in love after everything he’s done. he just hopes that someday you’ll be happy with someone that deserves you. he desperately wishes it could be him, but the last thing he wants is your sanity or reputation ruined in a relationship with him.

it’s very obvious that syzoth has feelings for you. his tail would sway from side to side, and his eyes would brighten as soon as they fell on you. he listens intently every time you open your mouth, and he never interrupts you when you are speaking. but he doesn’t exactly understand how humans court each other, so he would express his feelings in his own endearing way. for example, he gives you little gifts, similar to offerings. but they’d usually be shiny objects he thought was pretty and it reminded him of you.

raiden is so kind and humble, that he leads you to think his affection is strictly platonic. he’s been staring at you all day? oh, you probably just have something on your face and he’s too nice to let you know. he gave you a gift? he’s so generous, he probably does that with all his friends. no matter what he does to try to hint at his feelings for you, you would assume you weren’t special and he probably does it with everyone else he is acquainted with. he could even confess his love to you and you would just be confused on whether he meant it platonically or romantically.

#mortal kombat 1 x reader #mk x reader #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #bi han x reader #bi han x you #sub zero x reader #sub zero #kuai liang x you #kuai liang x reader #kuai liang #scorpion x reader #scorpion x you #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x you #tomas vrbada #tomas vrbada x reader #tomas vrbada x you #tomas x reader #smoke x reader #smoke mortal kombat #rain x reader #zeffeero x reader #zeffeero #raiden x reader #syzoth x reader #reptile x reader #mk raiden

[jeoncopi]

• — freedom overseas — •

GET INTO IT: feeling carefree each time he traveled shouldn’t be different for jungkook. as much as he wishes to feel like this back home, he can’t help but restrict himself at all times. - one thing about you working abroad and his schedules matching your timezones (better when it hits same destination), he could only wish and live for the best. ‘cause that’s exactly what he’ll get.

pairing: jungkook x reader.

word count: 3.4k

be aware of: graphic smut and unprotected sex (be always safe). reader can’t resist jk, car sex, jungkook smokes here so uhm.. y-yeah..

author’s note: since this is supposed to be a drabble (lol). hopefully my next work will end up being with more than 2k (lol) kisses and let me know what you think 😇. istg this story changed 2837 times hajaja

when you step outside the restaurant walking towards jungkook who’s smoking, footsteps froze at the sudden image.

he smokes? since.. when?

bewildered, you blink twice as your eyes carefully watch him take another hit of the small nicotine. this is definitely a whole new side of him you didn’t know about.. completely new, but it got you confused. you’re not crazy to remember him talking about his hate for cigarettes because of how much his dad used to do it back when he was little.. right? like that wasn’t a dream. you’re pretty sure he has expressed his disgust to you. almost agreeing with you.

sigh..

the more you look at him as you approach him feels like you can’t even get mad at him.

..why? well.. pinocchio wouldn’t be proud of you if you say he didn’t looked hot doing it.

ugh! what are these thoughts!

you definitely despise the smell of cigarettes! you even hate the sight of it, but why does he gives you quite the view? - you blame it on the way he carries himself with so much confidence yet— is so unbothered when he opens his mouth talking with your friends. his outfit too and how an all black combo always look so good on him.. but then, the simplest thing as him holding that tiny folded paper around his pointy and middle finger touching in between his soft and natural pink lips with a very boyish smile almost made you feel like having a lucid dream. why? because.. well, you were definely wet now.

what..? no!

yes, you are. you could feel it now. if only he could feel it through your panties..

mm.. no!!

mm.. yes!! you hated daydreaming fantasies with him like this but your body and mind could be very uncontrollable sometimes. feeling a single drop down your panties.. what can you do now? aren’t you supposed to hate this? you do! but why is your body reacting this way? it’s not wrong but it isn’t entirely right either considering you don’t like cigarettes.

deciding to ignore all the carnal thoughts running through your mind, you keep walking straight to him. as sticky and annoying as it feels.

“so.. is this your way of getting fresh air?” you start as soon as your friends started parting ways. tone rather calm compared to the troubled mindset you had a few seconds ago.

startling him, softly so. “ah.. ha. this.” he responds. eyes blinking on beat as soon as he grins. you watch carefully as his hand shakes the little tobacco rolled paper.

“yeah.. this.” shyly pointing at it, “how long has this being going on?” voice still calm, you didn’t put too much effort in questioning him. it’s his body at the end of the day and you know just how stubborn your boyfriend can get.

“mm..” smoke exhaling from his mouth and he’s mindfully careful when he does it tilting his head up for the smoke to follow that direction and not be even near close your entire face. “not long ago, actually. taehyung once brought this one vaper and i was curious by its smell each time he used it, so I bought one. strawberry ice cream, to be clear,” he laughed, you do too. “it was weird but I liked it.”

“hm..” slowly crossing your arms around your body you lean against his car in thought. not breaking eye contact even a second, jungkook could feel it. “what made you change your mind? m’not gonna lie. I’m surprised. I remember you once saying you hated it.”

and it’s like your gaze is looking for answers and jungkook can clearly see that. knows you too much. thinks it’s so cute too. the way your curiosity rises each time he takes another hit, he can trust your mind being full of unanswered questions for him. he knows what you mean as well as knowing how much you don’t like it either. but the fact that you aren’t mentioning none of it to him it just makes him look at you with nothing more but warm eyes. thinking he loves you too much.

“so do you.” he states by wanting to make that clear. so you know that he knows. so you know that he won’t and isn’t getting crazy about it, that he’s aware. but you could only understand that if he really explained why.

so that’s what he does.

“remember that day when I texted you about living one life?” you nod. “well, I decided to just give it a try. I want to try everything that I can when it comes to things that I want. be it temporally or not. during my whole life.. as long as I live, there’s probably not gonna be a second chance right?”

“right.”

“at least not in this body,” and he’s so soft spoken that when he shakes once more what’s left of the cigarette’s butt before taking his last hit, the sound of a familiar plastic sound resonates through your ears and that’s when you see him pull two tiny tabs of what seems to be gum off his pocket. and you can’t believe he just did that. suddenly the image you were seeing right now, not matching with his current actions. so you can’t help but give a small smile as soon as he handles one tab for you to take with his pretty big eyes.

he continues, “even though it damages my body a little, there’s a balance thing called in life. i’m not getting addicted and I don’t do it excessively-“

“I was worrying about that, actually..” you voice out, interrupting him. “you tend to get obsessive over things.”

it makes him smile, softly. “I know. but I won’t, I promise. you know my thing is drinking alcohol anyways.. even though that isn’t entirely good either..” making you laugh in unison as you lightly punch him.

“at least you’re aware.”

“hey!” he hugs you side ways. “candy isn’t so much good for your health either..” walking towards the side of his car so you can go.

“but i’m not obsessed.” you huff about it.

“could be. you do get a bit obsessive.” bopping your nose.

“stop!”

making him laugh, “okay.. hop on.”

“I hate you.”

“show me how much.” and.. he closes the door with the biggest playful smile.

oh.. no, not again.

and there you are, left with a big hysterical smile plastered on your lips as you try to breath in, breath out the sudden rush of your body. — come on! it’s not as if you weren’t fucking wet a few minutes ago as soon as you saw him do the things you hated the most.. right? ..you totally got this..

but who.. who were you lying to? it’s not like you could control your body when you haven’t seen him in weeks anyways..

yeah.. you were a mess.

still, you tried to play it cool. “are we heading back towards the hotel, right?” genuily asking.

he responds as soon as he closes his door. “yeah, why?” staring at you now. “wanna go somewhere else?” one palm touching your bare thigh when he asks.. you know there’s nothing wrong with it, and it should be normal at this point of your relationship too, but your hormones were getting the best of you so you just play it off, gently pulling his hand away as much as you didn’t wanted to. deep inside.

“not actually, was just asking.” it’s the truth, but jungkook only squinted his eyes before resting an arm on top of the handbrake, his face’s closer to yours. not enough for you to loose your sanity but close enough into getting a whiff of his rich cloudy scent. although, you can’t deny how fine he looked staring at you like that, his eyes always seemed to shine no matter the situation. only that this time around, everything you could sense from it was nothing more than desire flaming throughout his dark orbits.

“you know we can go wherever you want, right?” staying like that for a couple of seconds, all you can answer is a slight nervous “I know.” and jungkook can sense your sudden shyness. thinking is cute but this could only go one way or the other.. if you both play your cards right.

staring at you for a couple of seconds, jungkook’s piercing gaze switch between your lips along with your boobs and neck before getting ready to turn on the car.. making you exhale a little air after, as if you didn’t know you were holding your breath.

“originally, I wanted to get back so I could brush my teeth or something to be honest.” talking about smoking. “I’m not much of a fan of the aftertaste,” he laughs. “but if you want to go somewhere else,” a hand slides through your thigh.. again. only this time, he squeezes it two times. “I’m down for it too.”

one hand on the steering wheel, another one on your thigh.. it’s moments like these when you question if he knows how effortlessly irresistible he is.. sure, it might be something simple. he’s not doing much either. is just that his side profile and the way his hair lingers in his face and overall the way he’s shaped and how you can literally see the bump of his chest pop for how much he works out mark through his shirt that it makes you want to trace his pectorals with your fingers forever makes you want to eat him and that’s it but.. uh, isn’t that the definition of being so stupidly effortlessly hot?

when you softly press both your legs together, his hand seems to scalate close to your inner thigh..

oh jungkook.. perhaps, are you having the same thoughts as me?

still, you try your best to ignore it. “ah.. so that’s why you have gum with you, isn’t it?”

“caught.” rising both hands up as played guilty.

and as you stare at him.. you notice once again, he looked fine. your legs squeeze and you slightly arch your back when your gaze is back on the street still trying to ignore the finest hottie beside you. - jungkook, on the other hand, just smiles to himself and starts driving. you can’t help but give little sneak peeks at the way he gently but confidently grasps the wheel with one hand.. as soon as the other one approaches your thigh once again.. - he always did this but you were uncontrollable tonight. can’t help but immediately give him those eyes as soon as he reaches your beloved red light.

you swore going back to the hotel wasn’t the main priority. you wanted him now. - so slowly tilting your head to the side, your voice is airy when “babe..”

“mmh?”

and that’s when he sees you. you don’t say a word but he already knows what’s that thing you’re craving the most, and that thing it’s him. he doesn’t speak either. just staring at you under the red light, his hand traces a path towards your slowly opening legs. when you bite your lips into a smirk, his fingers are already pushing your panties to the side. confirming his most prominent thought. you’re wet as fuck.

“were you waiting for this?” eyes gazing up and down your body, his voice is cheeky when he asks. biting down both of his lip rings. “fuck. just how long were you this turned on?” playing with your clit “and why didn’t you told me..” as your body twitches. “it makes me crazy..” whispering more to himself.

—

when you’re gripping the head of his seat increasing the pressure between your arms so you could balance your jumps more deeper and precisely above him, he feels like he could cum in any moment. controlling his breathing, he tries to concentrate in order not to but the way your breast bounce and how you manage to leave quick steamy kisses over his neck makes it so hard. mostly when he has this desire to kiss all over your chest and suck on your titties. but his hands are also gripping so hard at the side of the seat, he barely touches your legs and he feels like a teenager are over again.

the fuck is this coming from him not wanting to last? he blames it on the long time you haven’t seen each other. 3 weeks exactly without your kisses and physical touch.. when he remember fucking almost (if not) everyday when you stayed at his house or he stayed at yours. - there’s always this deep desire whenever you’re close to each other, jungkook doesn’t think it will ever go away and to be honest he doesn’t even want it to ever disappear. always thinking about if it’s you, then everything will be okay.

but as you’re both very into it, something similar like a flash, lights up a little the dark street jungkook managed to set you up. - you both ignore it at first but after two more times, you stop bouncing hard on him switching to slow circular movements that still makes jungkook bite his lips for how good you feel.

“don’t stop.” he’s confident, palming your ass.

“I think there’s someone watching us.”

“I’ve notice too.”

but you both end up stopping your movements regardless.

quickly looking around, the flashes has seemed to be gone but as you keep searching for someone, jungkook just stares at you only to caught your attention back by squeezing your ass two times. making your eyes meet as he mischievously smirks.

“I couldn’t care less from last time, you know it.” sensually kissing your lips. he’s provoking you all over again.. “let them have a show. it’s what they want.”

and you know he’s referring to that one time you both fucked on a balcony being overseas too. - paparazzis had caught you fucking and while you were worried about him getting bashed for it (for the blurry clips that spreaded back then), he ended up being so calm about it to the point of fighting with his company saying he shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting to fuck his girlfriend. - and while he understands the depth of why they asked him to be careful, he still thinks it’s just bullshit and that the people who love him for him, will just accept and be happy that he’s happy experiencing what every normal person does. so why everybody can be happy but him? he’s just the same human with needs and desires..

“but this isn’t-“

“stop worrying about me. I know you can’t help it, so let me just say there’s nothing wrong with us wanting to fuck.. I bet they’ve their own experience so why can’t we have ours?”

when you hold his face, you know what he means. knowing how hard it is for him to tell you to stop worrying about it since he once told you he couldn’t just tell that to you because it make him feel careless about your feelings, but you do really get him this time..

when it comes from his personality, a part of you loved that. love that he doesn’t care, love that he always chooses his happiness because at the end of the day he knows he might only have this one life. and even if he don’t, he still wants to enjoy it at his best and that’s why when he motions your hips to move by gripping the side of your waist, both of your bodies stick so close to each other that the image of him biting his lips as he contemplates your body makes you not want to regret this and so you don’t. realizing you’ll only have this from time to time.

“fuck this.” you moan to his ear when jungkook kisses are needy and steamy, confirming just how badly he wanted to try this.

talking about it it’s something but actually experience this feeling of sex in such a limited place (even when this car is very spacious) was really hot and adrenaline reaching. windows foggy and all, it almost feel like a movie. you believe that at this rate it’s even difficult to look at inside the car so if those strangers were really filming or whatever, they’re footage will be already ruined.

you smiled a little because of that. but it didn’t lasted long when you suddenly feel both of jungkook’s hands around your hips manhandling the way you were going to start bouncing on him.

“let them see if they’re so interested in me. I couldn’t care less.” he just doesn’t give a single fuck right now and that only makes you want him more.

see, whenever he’s on his ‘I don’t give a fuck’ moment.. you believe that’s when he’s the most sexiest and dangerous. - maybe you were too into him but each time he showed this side of himself.. you can’t help but love it and be turned on for it at the same time.

—

while he treats you like his personal fucktoy, he does gives you times were you could move at you own pace. but the sounds and the way he touched you were making it hard for you so there’s nothing left when you say, “I- I want to cum.” with such a tiny desperate voice, it makes jungkook grin.

“do it.” voice tender compare with his hot-messy image. “mm, i’ll cum too if you do.” moaning afterwards.

and the good thing is that he really can make himself cum once you do. all he has to do is concentrate in the way your walls contracts into him as if they were gonna swallow, he loves it each time. say it feels too rich, too tight for him to handle. - so when you’re both done, after driving for a while, you don’t see more cars trying to follow you.

“gonna sleep so well tonight, i’m so fucking happyyy” he singsongs as soon as he lays in bed, pulling you into his chest for a hug. “no more nightmares,” he kisses your forehead. “my princess is here.”

smiling to himself, you feel so shy and loved at the same time. gently kissing his lips. “I can say the same.” lovey-dovey eyes looking at him.

he caresses your hair. ”my pretty little princess.”

you smile. “I hope you don’t go hard on yourself.” saying after knowing what’s coming if there really was someone witnessing what happened earlier.

“don’t worry.” softly smiling, “I told you I didn’t cared, didn’t I?” caressing one of your cheeks.

“hm. but still.”

it makes him look at you with warms eyes. “keep being cute. i’m grateful that you worry this much about me..”

“don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing you. it’s the truth.” pause. “I just love how caring you are because that means you really must love me..” tone serious.

“of course I do, silly!” you tease him, making him laugh.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“let’s sleep now. we’ve so much things to do..”

“..and so much little time..” you follow.

“I know.” he sighs. “but we can make it.”

“we always do.” you proudly smile, he does too.

“I love us so much.” he says once again.

you laugh. “okay, let’s sleep sentimental boy.”

“you love me this way.”

“you know I do.”

and after teasing each other for a while, you both end up falling into your sleep for a brand new, busy and maybe more exciting day..

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #jungkook drabbles #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jk #bts #bts fics #bts imagines #bts drabbles #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts smut #bts oneshot #jeoncopi

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Twenty Three-Info:you and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, SMUT, Heartbreak, ANGST AF, Dirty Talk, PIV, Praise Kink, Slight Degradation, Semi-Public Sex.

FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

"Hello? Anyone home?"

Emily's voice echoed through the air of your dorm room, her eyes widening in disbelief as she took in your drenched appearance. There you stood, next to your bed, trapped in the labyrinth of your thoughts, most likely looking like you had genuinely lost your ever-loving mind.

At last, you jerked your head up, locking eyes with her. "Apologies, Em...I'm just utterly drained. Honestly didn't even hear you come in."

"Why are you absolutely soaked?" Emily's tone switched to an almost amused drawl, one you could tell she was attempting to suppress. Her eyes narrowed as she assessed your waterlogged state. "Weren't you with Mattheo?"

Your cheeks flushed under her scrutiny, and you shifted uncomfortably before responding. "Yeah," you admitted, your tone slightly sheepish. "It's a bit of a story, really...Malfoy essentially dared me to jump in the lake, and, well, I couldn't resist the challenge."

Amusement twinkled in Emily's eyes as she settled onto her bed, her curiosity piqued. "Well, that's one way to make a splash," she quipped, a playful smirk gracing her lips. "So, spill the details. Is there some progress being made with those arsehats?"

You cleared your throat, a nervous smile playing on your lips. "I'm trying," you confessed, your voice laced with uncertainty. "It's a work in progress, but I think we're getting there, slowly but surely."

Emily nodded knowingly, her lips curving into a smirk. "Well, if anyone can handle a bunch of mischievous daredevils, it's you," she remarked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Just be careful, yeah?"

"Of course," you replied, managing a meek smile despite the uneasy knot tightening in your chest. "Where were you tonight?”

Almost instantly, Emily's demeanor shifted, her gaze darting away, fixated on her fingers as she nervously twirled her chapstick. "I, uh...I was with Tom," she stammered, her voice trailing off uncertainly.

A sudden wave of realization crashed over you, leaving you feeling as if you were adrift in a stormy sea. Emily was with Tom?

You blinked, struggling to find the right words. "You-"

"I think I like him," she confessed, the words emerging strained, as if pulled through clenched teeth, her eyes avoiding yours. "I...I think I really like him..."

Her confession hung in the air, heavy with tension, sending shockwaves through your entire being. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat reverberating in the silence that followed. You stood there, motionless, breathless, your mind trying to grasp the reality of her revelation. What on earth was fucking happening?

Sensing your stunned reaction, Emily hurriedly left her bed, closing the distance between you two. Her eyes met yours, filled with regret and apology.

"I'm so incredibly sorry," she began, her words tumbling out in a jumbled mess. "I mean, on the night of the party, we connected, and we kissed, and I haven't been able to shake those feelings since...I know you and Tom have been seeing eachother for a while, and I've felt terrible about this whole situation...I'm the worst friend, and I can't believe I let it get to this point...I just...I understand if you hate me or never want to talk to me again-"

"Emily," you interjected, your voice breaking through the heavy silence, your shock slowly giving way to a strange sense of understanding. Despite the chaos in your own life, you couldn't muster any anger. In fact, her revelation felt like a bizarre twist of fate, a surreal kind of perfect. "Me and Tom...we were never anything...I've never had any genuine feelings for Tom, not like that anyway..." you confessed, your words hanging in the air. "It's okay, Em...it's seriously more than okay."

Her eyes, brimming with guilt, met yours. "No… it isn't," she murmured, her fingers absently pushing a strand of hair off her forehead. "I just...I feel like the world's worst friend...I've been keeping secrets and hiding things from you...and that's not like us...I genuinely bloody hate myself for this…”

Her words hit you like a sledgehammer, the weight of your own secrets crashing down on you. How could you judge her when you were harbouring your own tangled emotions for Mattheo? Guilt clawed at your insides, a bitter reminder of your own deception, making it impossible to feel anything but empathy for Emily's confession.

Gently, your touch on her arm was a soft plea for understanding. "Em, please be kind to yourself," you implored, your voice carrying the weight of your own inner turmoil. "I'm far from perfect, and I completely understand...you don't ever have to be scared to tell me anything, I'll always be on your side..."

The desire to confide in her about Mattheo tugged at your heartstrings, but a tempest of conflicting thoughts raged within you. You longed to unburden yourself, to share the intricacies of your emotions--yet, doubts clouded your mind.

You questioned the wisdom of revealing a truth that seemed destined for heartbreak; one that was destined to go no where, especially after Mattheo's own cautionary words. The fear of shattering the fragile semblance of normalcy you'd managed to maintain held you back, leaving you caught between the honesty you craved and the security of your well-guarded secret.

"You're the greatest friend...I don't deserve you," Emily released a long sigh, meeting your eyes softly. "Are you sure you're not upset? I swear I'll never fucking talk to him again if-"

"No! No, Emily...I'm not upset," you said, through chuckles. You were upset, but it had nothing to do with her. "I want you to be happy, Em...Dumbledore once told me that if someone makes you feel, let them..."

"Gods, that man could make a bloody brick wall tear up," she breathed, finally cracking a smile, as though you'd lifted a weight off her shoulders. "I have to say though...I just don't know how you didn't fall for him...I mean, his fucking eyes alone had me melting..."

You released a breath, unable to swallow your smirk. Yeah, his eyes were beautiful, but only because they served as a reminder of Mattheo's--whose deep brown pools were nothing other than completely fucking captivating.

"I know," you said, your voice distant, lost in your thoughts as you stared into the distance. "Tom is wonderful," you continued, your words almost a whisper, the syllables heavy with unspoken sentiments. "It's just that, my heart...it wasn't in it."

Emily's brows furrowed with realization, her eyes darting across your face as though she could read the unsaid words swirling within your irises. "Where is your heart, then?"

Emily's question hung in the air, patiently awaiting your response, but your thoughts were elsewhere, entirely consumed by Mattheo. His captivating eyes, that tousled brown hair, and his infuriatingly complicated demeanor dominated your mind. Despite his dangerous reputation, he had always been your sanctuary--from the way he protected you to the depths of pleasure he led you to, he ignited desires you were hesitant to acknowledge.

Since the day you met him, you had been drawn in, entangled in a web of emotions you couldn't escape. The fear of succumbing to your desires warred with the undeniable pull he had on your heart, leaving you submerged in a sea of uncertainty, unsure if there was a way out of the depths you had willingly plunged into.

Meeting Emily's eyes, you could only confess, "I don't know," your voice tinged with desperation, as if seeking an answer that seemed just out of reach. "I...I have no fucking idea anymore..."

Her face dropped, shock etching lines across her features as she took a few delicate steps back, studying your face intensely. The intensity of her scrutiny made you nervous, your heart pounding so loudly you could almost hear it. You knew she had just realized precisely what the fuck was going on with you lately. You knew she'd finally fucking cracked your code.

You looked away, unable to maintain eye contact, and in a hushed tone, she said, "oh, Gods no...you...he's-he's such an asshole..."

"Yes, he is..." tension gripped your entire being, your body vibrating with nausea as you struggled to find the words. You couldn't bring yourself to meet Emily's eyes, your gaze fixed on the floor as you whispered, "but there's still good in him..."

Emily's eyes widened in disbelief, her shock palpable as she struggled to comprehend your words. "You're going to destroy yourself trying to fix him," she said, her voice edged with desperation. A heavy pause filled the room before she continued, her voice quivering, "He's done terrible things, remember when he sent that poor third year into the infirmary-"

"We've all done terrible things, haven't we?" you shot back, finally looking up at her. The intensity in your gaze matched the fierce determination in your voice. "We're all just sinners judging sinners for sinning differently, but no one ever bloody stops to ask why..."

Your steps were slow, but deliberate, each one echoing with the resonance of your unwavering determination as you closed some of the distance between you and Emily. The intensity in your eyes burned brightly, reflecting the depth of your emotions.

You were acutely aware of how utterly insane you must sound, how irrational and illogical your words might appear to her. Yet, in the depths of your heart, you longed for her understanding, for her to grasp the complexities that lay beneath the surface. You yearned for her to realize that there was a profound depth to your emotions, a truth far more intricate than what met the eye.

"Yeah, maybe he's bad...maybe he's completely fucking terrible," you said, your voice carrying a potent mix of fervor and defiance. "But when he smiles…when I look into his stupid, big eyes...all I see is the good in him..."

A profound silence hung in the air, pregnant with the weight of your words. You gauged Emily's reaction, observing the flicker of disbelief and uncertainty that played across her features.

"I made a promise...to Dumbledore...to myself...to Mattheo," you continued, your voice unwavering, each syllable resonating with unshakable resolve. "A promise that I'd fucking stand by him...that I'd show him patience and compassion...who would I be if I gave up on that?"

"Yeah, but..." Emily's eyes widened, her throat tightening as she struggled to find words to counter your conviction. "He's...he's a monster..."

"He's broken," you retorted, your tone unyielding, the depth of your empathy for Mattheo underscoring your words. "I don't care what happens to me, Em...I am a woman of my word..."

Emily swallowed. "Your heart is far too pure...your heart is going to ruin your future..."

"So be it." You said, flatly, steeling your shoulders as you released a long breath. "I am coming for all the ghosts that have ever haunted him...I am coming for all the demons that twisted his dreams and turned him into the fucking nightmare that he is, and I am going to be theirs, instead."

Without waiting for Emily's response, you brushed past her, your heart racing with anxiety over the fact that you had essentially revealed the truth about your relationship with Mattheo. The weight of your confession hung heavy on your shoulders, but you needed to clear your head. Silently, you made your way out of the dormitory, the echo of your footsteps reverberating in the empty corridor.

The familiar path to the prefects' washroom felt like a lifeline, leading you to the one person who could provide the reassurance you craved. Just as you made your way into the hall, the door creaked open, and a familiar brunette exited, her sly grin sending a shiver down your spine as her eyes met yours. Recognition struck you like a lightning bolt--it was the girl from the library, the one who had been intimately close to Mattheo all those weeks ago. As she disappeared from your view, your stomach plummeted, anxiety tightening into a nauseating knot.

With your heart heavy and anxiety clawing at your throat, you mustered the strength to push open the door. Inside, you found Mattheo, leaning wearily against the sink. His eyes, usually filled with intensity, were dulled by fatigue. His head was bowed, and his shoulders slumped, burdened by the weight of unseen struggles. He remained fully dressed, his appearance reflecting the weariness that mirrored your own inner turmoil.

"What was that?" you questioned, your voice trembling, and your chin quivering with vulnerability, your eyes pleading for an explanation that might soothe the turmoil within. "I thought we were okay?"

The sight of that girl leaving the washroom shattered the reassurance you had desperately sought. Doubts consumed you, racing through your mind like a storm. Had your recent fight driven that big of a wedge between you and Mattheo? Was he seeking solace in someone else's company because he was done with you? The questions multiplied, suffocating you with uncertainty. Your voice emerged as a cracked whisper, breaking the tense silence that hung between you both as Mattheo slowly met your eyes.

"Are we ever bloody okay, Raven?" His voice, laced with a tinge of exhaustion, fell flat, his eyes dark and cold as they bored into you. The endless depths of his gaze seemed impenetrable, hiding any flicker of emotion that might have offered solace. "I'm not even sure what you're going on about, truthfully,"

"The girl," your voice wavered, your vulnerability laid bare, "the same one from the library all that time ago...I just saw her leaving."

Mattheo grumbled irritably, the tension in the room palpable as he pushed off from the sink with a heavy sigh, his movements betraying his exasperation. He spun around, the muscles in his jaw clenched, his eyes stormy with frustration as he leaned back against the counter. His arms crossed over his chest defensively, his entire posture radiating a mix of annoyance and defiance.

"That girl is nothing to me, Raven," he declared, his voice low and gravelly, the words carrying a hint of irritation as he tried to emphasize his point. "Nothing at all."

You desperately wanted to believe him, to cling to his words like a lifeline, but doubt gnawed at your insides, poisoning your thoughts. After everything that had transpired between you, after your last fight, and the way he was acting now, you couldn't simply brush it aside.

"Nothing, huh?" Your voice grew firmer, laced with a mixture of hurt and skepticism. "So it's just a coincidence that you two were alone in here...and that she was grinning ear to ear when she left..."

Mattheo blinked, his surprise evident as he processed your words. This jealousy was uncharacteristic of you, a stark deviation from your usual composed self. His features contorted with a mixture of confusion and frustration, his eyes narrowing and jaw clenching in response to your accusation.

"Do you think I fucked her, Raven?" His words hung in the charged atmosphere, heavy with hurt and disbelief. Each syllable cut through the air, a searing venom that struck your heart like a dagger. "Do you actually fucking think that low of me?"

The raw pain in his eyes mirrored your own, a painful reflection of the trust that had been shattered between you, the wounds now gaping wide open, begging for resolution.

"You don't trust me..." Mattheo's expressions hardened further, his eyes blazing with a mixture of frustration and hurt. The room seemed to shrink around you as he pushed off from the sink, his movements deliberate and forceful, closing the distance between you before you could react. "You don't fucking trust me, do you?"

You tensed, every muscle in your body coiling like a tightly wound spring, bracing for the emotional storm that was about to engulf you. Mattheo stopped abruptly, his instincts sensing your reaction, his intense gaze locking onto yours. Your breathing became shallow, your chest constricted, and time seemed to stretch into eternity as you stood there, suspended in the moment.

"I want to..." your voice wavered, a fragile whisper barely audible in the heavy silence, carrying the weight of your longing and doubt. "But...I just...can't, when there you are...directly in front of me, still so fucking far away..."

You took a moment to study his features, the turmoil in his eyes, the tension in his jaw, and the vulnerability that flickered beneath his anger. His chest rose and fell with every ragged breath, as though his heart was laid bare before you.

"A man with a shield for a heart, and a sword for a tongue," you continued, your voice a fragile thread weaving through the charged air. "How do I confide in that?"

Mattheo's eyes softened, just slightly, the storm within them giving way to a glimmer of sincerity. In that moment, he shed every ounce of hesitation, closing the space between you with an urgency that spoke volumes. His hands found your face, cupping it gently, forcing your eyes to meet his. The intensity in his touch, the tenderness in his gaze, told a story of its own.

"Raven...do you think I fucking care about anything other than you?" His voice, once sharp with frustration, now held a raw, earnest sincerity that cut through the lingering doubts and insecurities. "You're the only one I need...you're the only one that keeps me high..."

Your heart thundered in your chest, the sound echoing in your ears like a war drum, each beat reverberating with the intensity of his touch. His palms, warm against your cool skin, sent waves of heat through every inch of your body, cocooning you in a haze of desire and vulnerability. You blinked, your eyes unable to tear away from the depth of his stare.

"But?" you dared to whisper, your voice barely audible amidst the charged silence, the lump in your throat growing with each passing second. "I know you aren't finished, I see it in your expression..."

He stiffened, his hands slowly falling from your face, the loss of his touch leaving a void. His gaze, dark and intense, traced a path from your eyes down to your lips, the unspoken longing palpable between your bodies. The pain that hung in the air was almost tangible, the emotions that coursed through both of you reaching a fever pitch.

"When you close your eyes...when you think of this...of us, what do you see?" He whispered, his voice a mere breath, the words hanging in the air like a delicate thread. "Do you see a future, Raven?"

The question slammed into your lungs like a sledgehammer, stealing the very air from your chest.  You had never truly considered what was going to happen at the end of the school year, but it was evident that he had, his eyes haunted by the uncertainty of the future.

You sucked in a lungful of breath, trapping it there, the oxygen feeling suffocating against the weight of his question. "I...I don't know..."

"Exactly," he murmured, his voice as soft as a breeze, but carrying the weight of an entire universe. "Something's telling me we're running out of time here, Raven...I always said I'd never deserve you, and I meant that..." he paused, averting his eyes only for a moment as he threaded an unsteady hand through his hair. "If we keep this going...something's bound to give...I can't let you throw away your future for me..."

You stalled, pain rushing through you. This whirlwind of emotions felt like a chaotic storm, each moment with him a battle between your hearts, oscillating from fiery arguments to heartbreaking distance. The constant push and pull had left you emotionally battered, but this time, the pain cut deeper than ever before.

"No...Mattheo...I..." your voice stammered, trembling with the intensity of your emotions. "I would much rather be nowhere with you, than somewhere without you..."

He stiffened, his entire being seeming to freeze in response to your words. "No, Raven, come on...don't fucking say that," he hissed, his voice laced with desperation. "You will not throw away your future for me...for whatever this is...you have to know that is fucking insane..."

"Mattheo, why?" you whispered, your voice breaking as you took a step closer, your heart aching with the weight of his decision. "Why are you doing this...I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry for everything I said...I didn't-"

"It's not about that," he cut you off, his tone soft yet resolute. "It's not about any of that. We both know this only ends in blood...why prolong it...I’d never be able to live with myself if I ruined everything you’ve worked so hard for…”

Your chest ached, a visceral pain that radiated through every fiber of your being, your eyes darting all over his face as though seeking solace in the contours of his skin, as if something tangible could save you from this nightmare. He was right. Of course, he was absolutely fucking right. There was nothing you could say to deny his words, the harsh reality of your situation hanging heavy between you.

"I know you're right Mattheo," gently, you brought a trembling hand up to his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek as you cupped the side of his head, your own head tilting slightly as you glimpsed his lips, whispering with a vulnerability that laid bare your soul. "But even if it's meant to fall apart...I still fucking want you..."

"I know," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, his lips hovering just millimeters from yours. "I fucking know..."

"I'm scared as bloody hell, Mattheo..." you continued, your fingers digging slightly into his skin, his hands seeking refuge on your hips as he pulled you closer against him. "I'm fucking terrified to want you, yet here I am anyway..."

"I'm scared too, Raven..." he confessed, his voice barely audible, pulling you impossibly closer, your bodies melding into one another. "Godric fucking forbid I ever admit it..."

His lips brushed against yours, soft and tender, a delicate touch that held the weight of a thousand unspoken words. In that moment, you knew, without a shadow of doubt, that you two were one and the fucking same. He was more yourself than you ever were. Whatever your souls were made of, his and yours were intertwined in an indescribable connection.

"Give me this before you go..." you whispered, your free hand gripping his shirt for dear life, your voice laced with desperation and longing. "Please..."

Mattheo pulled back slightly, his eyes scanning your face, searching for any sign of hesitation or uncertainty. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," without a moment's hesitation, you nodded, your eyes locked onto his, your conviction unwavering. "I'm sure."

In an instant, he pulled you back into him, his lips crashing onto yours in a searing kiss, the intensity mirroring the state of your crumbling relationship. His hands, strong and sure, quickly slithered up your sides, finding the buttons on your shirt.

Simultaneously, your trembling fingers mirrored his movements, undoing his shirt with a fervor that matched his own. The kiss deepened, your mouths melding together in a desperate attempt to drown out the world, seeking solace in each other's touch as you shed the barriers between you. The passion between your bodies consumed every ounce of your being, a wild, untamed force that pushed back against the chaos threatening to tear you apart.

As soon as the two of you were freed of your uniforms, Mattheo pulled back, his gaze intense, his eyes smouldering against your skin as he urged you to your knees in front of him. Without a word, you obeyed, staring up at him with a widened gaze, tracing the features of his face and chest that you admittedly loved so fucking much. Mattheo's eyes were doing the same, flickering over your curves, the swell of your breasts, the flare of your hips, until finally, they came to rest between your legs.

“You’re fucking beautiful…” he brought a hand up to your chin, tilting your head back to bring your eyes to his, the pad of his rough thumb tracing over your bottom lip, tugging it down slightly before releasing it. “Don’t you think I’d chose some other bitch over you ever fucking again.”

Breath evaporated as he dropped down to his knees in front of you without warning, directing you to lay back, your head resting on a stack of clean towels.

The cool tile of the floor made your back arch and your body shudder as Mattheo loomed over you, his fingers tracing delicate patterns over your thighs as he hovered mere inches above your skin. Each touch was soft, almost reverent, as though he was worshipping every inch of your body. As he leant down to kiss you, his lips were tender yet demanding, his tongue sweeping over yours in a fierce, fiery embrace. You groaned into his mouth, your hands finding his hair and gripping tightly, until he broke the kiss and began to move lower.

His eyes travelled down your neck, reaching your chest where your breasts rose and fell with each exasperated, eager breath. His mouth descended upon one of them, suckling and teasing with skillful precision, making your head dizzy with burning need. It was as though he was worshipping at a sacred alter, paying homage to the very essence of your womanhood, his nails digging into your skin, chaining you to him with more restraint than any bloody shackles ever could.

His tongue traced spirals around your nipple, sending little shocks of electricity straight through to your core, and you mewled, back arching into him and grip tightening in his hair, silently begging for more. As expected, Mattheo delivered, lavishing attention on each peak in turn, flicking his tongue, sucking, and teasing until you were practically crying for release.

"Matty...please…" you whispered as his lips moved lower, tracing a path of heat toward your sex. "There's no time...someone could come in..."

"Eager girl..." Mattheo hummed, smirking against your skin. "Told you you'd love the way I fuck you."

Unable to suppress it, you smirked at his normal arrogance as he pulled back slowly, your eyes following his every move as he freed himself; letting loose that delicious, familiar groan from deep in his throat as he pumped his shaft a few times, his gaze darting over your body, desperate and writhing beneath him--each meticulous movement he made causing an insatiable tingle within your core.

"Mhm," you murmured, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as your hands grazed over his strong biceps, feeling the muscle tense and contract beneath your touch. "That's what I love...the way you fuck me..."

Mattheo blinked, meeting your eyes, a wicked smile creeping across his lips as he processed what you'd just said. The underlying message in your words went unspoken despite their intentions hanging heavy in the air, and without a word, he slid his free hand down between your legs, shifting your panties to the side before he gently teased and swirled over your clit, making you moan out his name without even realizing it. 

"My filthy little girl..." the anticipation was almost unbearable, you were fucking dripping for him and he'd hardly even touched you. "Always so fucking eager for me…”

Inching forward, he aligned himself with your core, leaning down over you, a strong arm taking purchase beside your head, caging you beneath him. As he pushed inside you, the stretch was unlike anything you'd ever fucking felt--the lack of foreplay resulting in a sensation unlike anything else, a perfect blend of agony and ecstasy, as if he was stretching you open and shaping you just for him.

You whimpered softly, doing your best to muffle your noises as Mattheo pushed deeper and deeper, pausing for a moment once he'd fully seated himself inside your heat, giving you a second to adjust to his thick, throbbing length--his eyes never once left yours, his gaze drilling into you as he assessed your reactions, only breaking the eye contact to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

"So fucking tight...fuck-you feel so fucking good..." Mattheo growled lowly, his voice thick with lust--your walls clenching and relaxing around him simultaneously. "Such a good girl, Raven...feel yourself adjust for me, baby."

His voice had a hypnotic effect on you, calming your racing heart and making you focus solely on the feelings coursing through your body. The pain was gone, a mere figment of your imagination as you revelled in the closeness of your bodies, his hot skin on yours, breathing eachother in, your mind reeling with the thoughts of this being the last time--something you'd both said many times before.

But for some reason, this time felt different. This time felt real.

"Fuck me, Matty..." you whispered, nails digging into his back as if trying to anchor yourself to this moment, to him. "Fuck me like you're going to lose me."

"Fuck...am I, Raven?" Mattheo groaned in response, meeting your eyes with an intensity that took your breath away, slowly beginning to increase his pace to your desires. "Am I going to fucking lose you?"

Mattheo's thrusts became harder and more aggressive as his movements grew more frenzied, his mind getting lost in the haze of lust swirling between you. The sounds of his skin slapping against yours filled the room, matching the sound of his heavy breathing, a whirlwind of emotions coursing through the air.

"N-no, Matty..." you choked, feeling the pleasure building within you like a storm waiting to break. It was almost too much, and you found tears on the verge of exploding from your fucking eyes. "You couldn't...even if you tried..."

"Fuck...I know..." he hissed, the words forced through gritted teeth as he met your eyes, your nails certainly splitting the skin on his back, shredding it raw. "I always know exactly how you feel when I'm deep inside you like this...those eyes don't fucking lie..."

You gasped, the words unable to form as Mattheo pulled out almost completely before slamming back in, hitting that deep place inside your body that made you cry out in toe-curling pleasure. His face was twisted into an intense frown, growling in concentration as he fucked you harder, faster, hitting places you didn't know possible.

"You love this cock, don't you?" Mattheo growled, knowing full well the answer. "You're so fucking wet for me."

"Oh...yes, I do-" you squealed, burying your reddened face back into the crook of his shoulder, pleasure ricocheting through every ounce of your body as his fingers slid down your stomach, quickly teasing over your clit. "Fuck-Matty...oh..."

"You want to cum for me, pretty girl?" he growled, nibbling at your earlobe as he shifted his position, drilling deeper into you. "Let me feel you..."

"I-I want..." the words wouldn't form. Nothing would articulate inside your brain. Yes, you wanted release, but that's not what you were trying to say here. You wanted him, you wanted this, you wanted all of it, never to end. But as he swirled your clit with rough, aggressive strokes, your brain was mush, succumbing to nothing but his touch. "I-I want you...in...I-"

"I'm in you, Raven..." a grunt when he slammed into you--his voice tight, strained, almost pained, lips pressed against your temple. "I'm so fucking deep in you..."

Another shift, and he was striking your cervix with every thrust--and the pain was enough to pop the balloon in your chest. Tears streamed down your cheeks, the pending heartache and insecurity finally breaking through the dam of emotions you had kept bottled up for months. The weight of it all was too much, overwhelming you in a tidal wave of despair. Mattheo's movements remained unyielding, his pace unfaltering, but he was swift to kiss away your tears, his own breath hitched in anticipation of the climax that was about to consume both of you.

"Oh-fuck...Matty..." only a few more thrusts, and you were there, teetering right on the edge of coming undone. “Oh…”

He growled. “Cum for me angel…fuck-“

"Yes-yes, fuck..." you keened, dragged through your climax without question, euphoria tearing through you as your walls pulsed and milked his cock.

He groaned, gripping you tighter as he poured himself into you, hips bucking until the only sensation left was sweaty, heaving, post-orgasmic rapture. And despite that, you held each other, unwilling to move, unwilling to let the other person leave the safety of the embrace.

It was a long moment--long after your breathing had returned to normal, long after you'd both dripped sweat onto each other's skin--before he moved, rolling off of you, gaze roaming your figure. You wiped your damp cheeks with the back of your hand, not daring to make eye contact with him as the two of you slowly began to redress, an awkward silence filling the air.

After both of you had regained modesty, Mattheo’s eyes locked onto yours, his unspoken emotions echoing in the intensity of his gaze. Without uttering a single word, he pulled you into him, his arms enveloping your body, holding you with a grip that felt as if he never wanted to let go, suffocating your lungs in the best way possible. As his hand moved to cup the back of your head, his fingers intertwining into your hair, you felt his throat bobbing against your temple as he swallowed, his vulnerability laid bare in the gentle caress of his touch.

“That girl,” his voice was a low murmur, as though he feared shattering the fragile moment, “she asked me to the masquerade this weekend…I said no.”

You chewed your cheek, your fingers clinging onto his shirt with force, your voice trembling as you responded, “You should go...it might be good to redirect the attention off of us…your friends seem suspicious.”

“Oh, they are…” he chuckled, his hand absentmindedly petting your hair, his touch comforting and reassuring. “But I told Nott to ask you, and only Nott, so if any of the others approach you about it, let me know.”

Your cheeks burned at the revelation, his laughter vibrating through your body, your heart skipping a beat in response. “You told Nott to ask me to the masquerade? Why?”

“He’s the only one I trust not to be a fucking pig,” he replied, his tone flat and honest. “Pretty sure Zabini or Malfoy would try to get you under them before the night even started.”

You huffed, a smirk playing on your lips as you pressed against his chest. Taking a moment to revel in his scent, his cologne, his body heat.

“Is this really it for us, Mattheo?” you murmured, your voice laced with a hint of desperation. “I mean…am I just supposed to be your friend, now? Your mentor? Your tutor?”

“Maybe we just take a break, hm?” he suggested, his voice dropping, his gaze softening as he met your eyes. “Maybe just until the suspicion dies off…until we both have had some time to cool down.”

“I…okay,” you said, your eyelids fluttering as he released you, the weight of the situation sinking in. “I can work with that.”

The acceptance in your voice was laden with bittersweet resignation, a temporary reprieve in the face of an uncertain future.

————————

Chapter 24->

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