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zyafics · 2 months

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brother's rival | rafe cameron (18+)

series: brother’s rival (part one)

pairing: rafe cameron x female reader

summary: you and your brother were born pogues, but once your family made enough to move to figure eight, you became a kook. unfortunately, rafe cameron doesn't welcome pogue-born kooks. and it doesn't help that your brother is determined to steal the title of king of kooks from him. so, if your brother is trying to steal something from him, rafe is going to return the favor.

warnings: MDNI, 18+, smut, angst

zya's notes: hi!! this is my first fanfic, so yeah. i hope you enjoy! also, i like when the reader stands on business and actually talks back to rafe, and i never read anything like that, so yeah, this is my attempt on that lol

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚

"Do you think Kooks actually enjoy this or is this something they do to uphold their image?" You ask your brother, Dean, who swings his golf club, hitting the ball square in the center, and sends the small circular object flying across the land.

He turns back to face you once the ball settles on the grass. His golf club digging into the ground, his arm pressed against the handle. "It's probably an ego thing."

You snort. "If I had to wear this everyday, it would not be an ego thing."

You glance down at your outfit: a simple tennis skirt and top. Since your family moved to Figure Eight a couple months ago, you were also granted access to the prestigious Country Club that sits on the rich side of the island. You and your brother haven't attended any of the events, due to your status as a Pogue-born Kook, but since the summertime rolled around and there's absolutely nothing to do on Figure Eight in the daylight, you two decided to take a little trip.

To get into the role of Kook, both of you decided to wear what the Kooks normally wear. Trading your Pogue attires for tennis skirts, khaki pants, and polo shirts, the two of you almost look the part.

But you still stand out.

"You're next." Your brother tips his golf club in the direction of where he hits his ball. You groan, stepping up to the tee stand where Dean replaced another golf ball for you to swing (and miss). You don't like golfing, you decided, wanting to trade in the Kook uniforms and stuck-up memberships for surfboards and high waves. Unfortunately, your brother does, and he wants to stay.

Not wanting to embarrass yourself, you try to mimic the stance your brother had a few moments ago. You pull yourself into the position, bending slightly over as the end of the club lines in front of the ball.

"You should bend down lower!" A voice shouts and you roll your eyes, knowing exactly who it belongs to. Your head lifts up to see Rafe approaching you, holding his own golf club with a personal caddy following after him from a safe distance.

From the corner of your eyes, you can see your brother's demeanor completely change. His expression pulled taut, his shoulders stiffen, his jaw locked.

Your brother and Rafe do not have a good relationship. Well, if you could even call it a relationship.

You and Dean moved here a couple of months ago. Born and raised on The Cut, your family finally made and saved enough to move you away from a life of poverty and crime to a nice, suburban home on Figure Eight.

However, it wasn't done without a cold welcome. Most of the Kooks don't like you nor your brother. You don't know if it's because you used to be a Pogue or because Rafe Cameron doesn't like the idea of Pogues moving into Kook territory—and made sure everyone followed along—but either way, it caused your experience on Figure Eight to be an unpleasant one.

For the first month, Rafe would send occasional 'gifts' to your door to remind you and your brother of your place. At parties, he would also make sure to let you and your brother know you're not welcomed. He even made a point to throw the keys of his truck to Dean's face, telling him to go do a beer run, and threw some cash alongside as payment. In the heat of the moment, Dean had enough and lost his shit. He swung at Rafe and Rafe swung back.

You had to pull your brother off of Rafe as the Kook King yelled profanities at your brother, blood dripping down his chin, telling him about how he would get him back.

From that point on, it was nonstop rivalry. Whenever they were in the same vicinity, they would either exchange verbal spats or physical altercations. You had to momentarily stop attending any parties because you couldn't handle the possibility of fights.

You didn't want today to be another one.

Dean steps in front of you as Rafe approaches, making sure to block his view from you. The golf club stands between them. "What do you want, Cameron?"

"Just trying to give your sister some advice." Rafe responds with a cocky smile. He raises his own golf club and places the end of the head against Dean's chest. "I didn't know busboys got to play. Must be why this place is going to shit."

You can see the anger rolling off your brother, his hand clenched around the handle of his golf club, causing his knuckles to grow white. Before he does something that would cause the both of you to get in trouble, you step forward, grabbing his forearm.

"Go away, Rafe." You declare, causing the blond to shift his attention from your glaring brother to you. His blue eyes give you a once-over, lingering a little longer at the cutoff of your skirt, before meeting your gaze. "If you think this place is shit, then find another place to play."

"And let a couple of Pogues kick me out of my Country Club?" He declares, twisting his expression in a manner that looks disgusted at the idea before shaking his head with a click of his tongue. "I don't think so, princess."

You hate the nickname that he gave you. It's always in mocking. Since you and your brother arrived at Figure Eight, according to Rafe, Dean has been slowly encroaching on Rafe's territory. Trying to take the crown of King of Kooks from him. This, in turn, caused Rafe to cast you in a secondary role. A mocking declaration of princess as in you will never be one.

You just roll your eyes at him, but you can't help the flutter of warmth that settles on the bottom of your stomach.

"Fuck off, Cameron." Dean declares, his tone laced with aggression, as he steps forward to place some distance between you and the blond. "This place is huge. I'm sure you can find some place where you don't have to see us."

Rafe hums in thought. "That's the thing," he points to the space you and your brother occupies. "What if I want this spot? I'm sure it won't be a problem for you to move." He glances at you and winks. "She can stay. I'm sure she'll be entertaining."

It doesn't take a second later before your brother swings. His fist delivers a satisfying crack against Rafe's jaw, causing him to stubble back a few steps. But, he quickly regains footing. His expression morphs into a deadly one, coming back around and raising his fist to deliver a punch to your own brother before you pull Dean away—stepping in front of him.

"Enough." You declare, clenching down your jaw, in preparation for the blow that never came. Rafe stopped himself a few inches away from your face. But, you don't let that fear show. "We'll move. You can have your fucking game."

With that, you drag your brother and your things away. You don't bother turning around, but you can feel the heat of Rafe's stare in the back of your head, following your every move, until you disappear from his sight.

—

“I’m going to grab something to eat.” You say to your brother, who merely hums in acknowledgement. He’s still a bit pissed off that you stepped in between Rafe and him. But, what else were you supposed to do? You are trying to get situated in this new environment, this new place where everything is a hostile territory. You didn’t want any more trouble that came from it. Yeah, you admit, it was a bit short-sighted of you to step in because you could’ve gotten hurt but fuck him, at least you did something more productive than swinging fists.

You head away from the golf course to the restaurant at the Country Club. You still can't believe you are here. If you had told yourself a year ago that you would’ve be living on Figure Eight, playing golf on the rich side of the island, you would probably laugh and take your drink from you. But, it's true.

You're a Kook.

Well, by classification, but you don't feel like it.

You don't, technically, feel like a Pogue either.

You're just oddly stuck in the middle. You don't know what to make of it. All you want to do is just have fun, live, and not cause any more trouble.

Unfortunately, trouble finds you. As you place your order and wait, leaning against the bar counter and tapping your nails against the granite, a body slides into the space next to you, large and towering. In the corner of your eyes, you catch him playing with the small plastic menu display set on the counter and pick it up with one hand.

He leans against you, pointing to the menu. “What are we ordering, princess?”

You turn your head to face Rafe. “I don’t know. What do assholes eat in their free-time?”

“Well, that depends.”

“On what?”

“What you’re offering.” He’s watching you as if you are part of the specials. The heat of his gaze feels like it’s undressing you, that it makes you shift your own, tapping the menu in his hand to draw his attention back.

“On the menu, Rafe.”

“Nah.” He abandons the plastic menu on the counter, turning his body completely to face you. His elbow pressed against the counter. “I’m craving something else.”

You swallow hard, looking over to the waitstaff behind the counter, wondering whenthey’re going to be finished with your burger so you can leave.

You know Rafe is only messing with you because it gets to your brother. It’s known on the island that Dean is protective of his little sister, sometimes too much, that Rafe takes advantage of this fact.

Standing here, near Rafe, is dangerous. Not to mention your brother could come over at any time and check up on you, but because, if you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t share the same spite and hatred Dean has with the blond.

You’re not sure if you share any of it.

You just think all of it is stupid.

“Speechless now?” He teases, leaning enough where you can catch the scent of his cologne and the woodsy odor from golfing all day. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

You don’t answer him, deciding that the best thing you can do right now is ignore him.

That’s proven to be bad advice because, not moments later, you feel rough fingers grab your chin and force you to turn to Rafe. His eyes are piercing, his gaze studying every little detail of your face as you tried yourhardest to remain unfazed by his presence.

“Ignoring me?” He asks softly, his sight dropping to your lips as he runs the pad of his thumb across the soft plump of your bottom lip. They unconsciously part, just as Rafe’s eyes drift back up to yours. His voice in a mere whisper. “You know I don’t like that.”

Your heart skips a beat and your legs grow weak, barely able to keep you upright. You fight against the instinct to lean into his hand, to take his thumb that lingers on your entrance, into your mouth and suck, but it’s difficult.

He chuckles, watching the internal battle you’re having with yourself, lowering to your height. “You want me badly, do you, princess?”

For a blink of sobriety, you raise your hand to grab his wrist, pulling him off of you, from feeling every little twitch of muscle that changes under his touch, and rolls your eyes. You throw his hand back at him. “You wish.”

The waiter returns with a box of your food and you thank them with a tip, about to grab the to-go box off the counter when Rafe beats you to it. He grabs a hold of your food and raises it just out of your reach.

You glare at him. “Give it back, Rafe.”

“Give me your number.”

You are taken back by that. “What?”

“Give me your number.” He repeats, his determination set on his face as he waits for you to answer. “Or, do you want me to beg for it?”

The sight of Rafe on his knees is not unappealing, but you rather not have another image of him doing something that would return when your hands are between your legs. Instead, you settle on something equally humiliating for him. “Say please.”

He looks at you, bewildered, and scoffs. “I’m not doing that.”

“Then you’re not getting my number.”

“You forget I have your food.”

“You forget I have money now,” you pull out your credit card. “I can order another one.”

His jaw clenches, and for the first time, Rafe Cameron is backed into a corner he doesn’t know how to escape from. With a resigned sigh, he says, reluctantly, “please.”

“I need more enthusiasm.”

He cuts a dark look at you. “Don’t push it, princess.”

You laugh, before holding out your palm. His free hand finds his phone in his back pocket and offers it to you. You easily type the digits, add your contact to his phone and quickly send a text to yourself to remember the number. When you return your phone back to him, he exchanges it for your food.

When you’re about to head back to your brother, you hear Rafe shout behind you, “I’ll text you.”

Suppressing a grin, even though he can’t see you, you throw your response over your shoulder. “I might answer.”

{・❥・read part two here }

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christhopersturniolo · 2 months

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୨ PODCAST ୧

summary: matt leaves the podcast because of his brother's jokes, and y/n comforts him.

warnings: cussing, sad, fluff

notes: this fanfic was a request! also english is not my first language so im sorry about any mistake

୨୧

The day with the Triplets has been a little stressful, specially for Matt. Each time he spoke, his brothers would joke saying that he was being way too ‘depressed’ and ‘miserable’. Or Nick would always answer with ‘Yeah, yeah nobody wants to hear about that shit’.

Now, after they invited me to their podcast, here I am, sitting next to my boyfriend, holding his hand gently.

As Chris and Nick keep talking over their brother, calling him ‘Miserable Matt’ I could see him getting more annoyed, his eyes watering, and it feels like I'm the only one seeing his discomfort.

I don’t really know what to do, cause obviously his brothers are just joking, and I'm not sure how to intervene without making things awkward.

They keep teasing him over and over.

“I'm not going to sit here for like another 55 minutes or some shit.” Matt’s voice getting slowly lower.

“What? What was that? That mumble? I can’t understand you.” The older triplet mocks him, but he tries to ignore it. “Ok go ahead-“

“Now you are ‘mumble Matt’ too” Chris laughs after Nick’s comment. “It's like I can't even understand what you are saying, sounds like rocks rolling down a hill, your voice”

I try to end the conversation "Can we just-" Before I can finish, Chris and Nick burst into laughter "Can we start the podcast?" I try again, but Matt lets out a heavy sigh.

Nick continues “it literally sounds like an avalanch coming out of your mouth” Matt gets up aggressively, starting to leave the room “I’m not doing this shit anymore.”

“Oh come on Matt!” Chris says chucking. They laugh some more as I just think of what to do. I get up from my seat, hurrying after him “Hey.. Matt..” I begin, attempting to catch his attention. However, before I could reach him, he gets in his room, and slams the door in my face, leaving me standing outside. I'm sure this is not just about the stupid jokes they were making.

I hesitate for a moment before making any move, thinking if I should open the door, i’m sorry, but I can't just ignore the urge to check on him.

With a deep breath, I reach out and calmly push the door open. Inside, I find Matt lying on his bed, his face buried in his pillow, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

“Can we talk love?” I say quietly closing the door behind me.

He lifts his head, his eyes red and puffy, his expression a mixture of sadness and anger. "What do you want?" His voice defensive.

Ignoring his tone, I move closer and sit on the bed.

With a gentle touch, I reach out and place my hand on his back, offering a silent gesture of comfort. For a moment, we sit in silence, until I interrupt it.

“Can you tell me what has been going on lately?” I ask softly, my voice filled with concern.

“Nothings going on” He sniffs, still with his face in the pillow “I’m fine” His voice barely above a whisper.

I shake my head, not trusting his words. "You don't seem fine to me" He stays silent, I take a deep breath.

I adjust my position, leaning against the headboard of the bed. I decide to take a different approach instead of talking “Come here..” I pat the spot next to me, in sign for him to come closer “Let's just cuddle for a bit."

He completely stops acting rude in the moment I suggest it, Matt scoots closer, laying his head on my chest, his arms around my waist. I stroke his smooth brown hair. I kiss the top of his head. We stay like this for some good ten minutes.

He presses his face into the crook of my neck and whispers with a shaky voice “I’m just so fucked up..”

Gently, I cupped his cheeks, lifting his head from my neck, making him look into my eyes “Matt.. Why do you say that?”

"I just.. I don't know" He admits. "I'm just so fucking exhausted of feeling like this all the time..”

I sigh, I hate seeing him in this state. “Since when do you feel like that?” I wait patiently for Matt's response, he looks away.

“I don’t know.. For some long time now.. I guess I've been trying to push it away, but it just keeps coming back, over and over.” As he spoke, I could see the pain in his eyes.

"I'm sorry I couldn't see it sooner babe.." I whisper, reaching out to gently brush away his tears. "I should have known something was wrong." I kiss his forehead.

He shakes his head "It's not your fault" He murmurs "I don’t want you to worry"

I wrap my arms around him, holding him close. "But I do worry, Matt" I confess softly. "I care about you more than anything."

He buries his face deeper into my chest. "I love you so much.." He whispers, his voice muffled by the fabric of my shirt.

"I love you too.." I whisper back in his ear, squeezing him tightly.

୨୧

sorry this is so short 😭😭

tags: @muwapsturniolo

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #fanfic #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo x reader #st

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jongseongsnudes · 3 months

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team captain

bf!nishimura. 1k words. so flufffffffy. [note]: this can be read alone or as apart of my badboy!niki series drabbles. warning, it’s so cringey and cute i’m literally kicking my feet lmao

“oh my god look how brown it’s getting!” you cheer more to yourself than anyone, the sight of your marshmallow changing colour over the fire exciting you a little too much.

after getting it perfect, you finally look up to realise that everyone who was sitting around the bonfire before... was now gone. how or when, you’re not even sure, but the loud chatting and laughter coming from inside the house tells you that they’re all inside now.

shrugging, you get up from your squatting position and was about to head inside too when you notice niki, sitting in his chair right behind you with the cutest grin on his face. the boy had been so quiet the entire time that you didn’t even know he was there.

you’re so startled by his appearance that you almost fall backwards but luckily for you, your team captain boyfriend was quick to grab your arm, pulling you to him. specifically, onto his lap. you’re now seated across his lap, his arms around your waist to hold you, his face just a breath away from yours.

gulp.

the boy was truly the most handsomest you’ve ever seen. no matter how many times you see him, his face still manages to surprise you, just like the very first time. it’s something you’ll never admit to him though, not when his head was already so big.

“i’m starting to think you’re clumsy on purpose, just so i can save you,” he rolls his eyes at you, “because i don’t know anyone as clumsy as you.”

“w- well you should’ve said something! you scared me!”

“right. as if you didn’t sense me staring at you the entire time?”

“you-” you pause, brows raising at the realisation of his words, “... why were you staring at me the entire time nishimura? creep!”

instead of an insulting response like you had fully expected from him, the boy stays completely silent. his eyes however, drops down to your lips, gazing at it for a few moments. you’re unsure of what his intentions were but it was making you nervous either way.

“what? can’t i stare at my girlfriend?”

gulp.

“well- well yeah but! but! but make some noise next time-”

to your surprise, niki leans in without warning, kissing you and shutting you up. seeing you so startled yet again, the boy immediately breaks into laughter like it was he funniest thing to him.

“you don’t understand how pretty you are, miss class president,” he says with a smile, one so sweet you swore your heart just melted over it, “you’d be staring at you too if you were me.”

you’ve been together for a few months now and although you’ve had your fair share of sweet moments, this time topped it all. his gaze, his smile, his words, all seemed so genuine. like he meant every single thing.

everyone knew how niki was, someone so tsundere, so unbothered, so unserious, so seeing him this way had your emotions and thoughts going wild.

it had you thinking if this could really last, if it could really be more than just a stupid high school relationship.

it had you thinking about your future after high school, whether you and him could really make it work. you haven’t brought up the topic with him, but it has surely been on your mind more with graduation quickly approaching.

“it better be me you’re thinking of right now in this head of yours,” he playfully knocks into your head, bringing you out of your deep thoughts, “or else you have no reason to be smiling like that.”

“unfortunately... it always is. you and your... big mouth!”

the face he makes is one of anger, confusion and surprise, all in one. the view instantly had you in giggles, so much so that you almost fall off his lap. but the boy doesn’t let you have your moment for too long, his fingers at your waist, ready to do what they do best.

“niki- no- no- ahhh!”

you were giggling again, only this time it was caused by niki nishimura tickling your sides. you wanted to run away from the boy, but how could you when you’re trapped in his hold, on his lap. there was literally no escape!

“ni- nish- nishimura! stop! please!”

the boy really does do as asked, stopping his fingers and quickly helping you fix your creased up top. he’s also laughing, eyes in complete moon shapes at your struggles, and although you want to smack him, you end up chuckling as well.

“so... can i kiss you now with my big mouth or?”

“since when do you even ask?” you playfully roll your eyes, “what’s with you today? you’re being a bit weird. more so than usual.”

“ha funny,” the boy mocks you, his fingers reaching up to flick your forehead, “maybe i just realised how much i actually like you.”

you could feel your cheeks immediately heating up, hands a little clammy from his sudden confession, but it’s his gaze that catches you off guard. the way they’re looking directly into yours, with so much hope, so much adoration. you have no idea how to respond to him but you do know that your heart is currently going crazy in your chest.

“you just realised? pfffft,” you manage to make a joke, using it to hide away your current urge of wanting to scream and kick your feet at how cute he looked.

“yeah... and it’s crazy how much i actually do.”

now it was your turn to go quiet, no longer laughing or making jokes. without thought, you lean in and kiss the boy. softly and sweetly.

niki’s arms around you tighten as yours rest on his chest, the two of you enjoying the moment in silence. it’s crazy when you realise how your relationship with him used to be like, full of screaming and fighting every single day.

it was too early to claim you l-word the tall boy but judging from how you were currently feeling, you’re sure you’re almost there.

“nishimura-”

“OH MY GOD! NOT THE MARSHMALLOW! what did the marshmallow do to you guys?!” both you and niki turn towards the dramatic voice, just to see taki and maki both staring at the ground where you had dropped your much forgotten marshmallow earlier.

“i dropped it by accident-”

“because you guys were busy making out??” maki chimes in, his expression so sad you’d think something actually happened, “don’t you guys do that enough?? i saw you two in the lockerroom yesterday too!”

“it’s like that’s all you guys do. our captain is such a simp-”

the two boys immediately stop talking once they notice the change in niki’s face, one so grim, so irritated. similar to the one he usually had during practice... before a finals game.

even you were scared of that face, let alone the boys on the team.

“i’ll be right back baby,” the team captain says calmly while helping you to stand up. he pats the back of your head before turning to face the two screaming boys who were already sprinting around the yard.

you can’t help but giggle at the sight, a memory you’ll surely hold onto for a very long time. although your future with niki remains unclear, you realise that what mattered more was now, in this very moment.

and in this very moment, you were happy.

end.

2024 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.

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appocalipse · 1 year

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RIGHT WHERE I WANT TO BE : ̗̀➛ SIRIUS BLACK

summary: it's only when lily accidentally spills amortentia on you and all you can smell is cigarettes and dog fur that you realize you're in love with sirius — probably the only person in the world you shouldn't be in love with.

"Oh, crap!" Lily seems on the verge of panic as she stares at the fresh stain on your clothes. "I'm so sorry!"

Somewhat shocked, you reach your hand to the front of your uniform and try to rub it away. It's no use. "It's okay," you assure her gently, relieved that the liquid didn't spill on the clean set of clothes you were folding instead, "it was an accident."

You put the clothes safely away in the trunk near your bed. They still have the fresh and clean scent of lavender. Your uniform, however…

Lily points her wand at your chest, and the stain quickly disappears. She had rushed through the entrance of the dormitory fast as lightning, crashing right into you and spilling…

Well, what exactly?

"Lily," you bring a hand to your own face, sniffing, then sniffing again. "What is this? It smells like a wet dog and-"

Your eyes meet and you immediately dislike the look on her face. Too much restrained excitement slowly bubbling up...

"-cigarettes…" you trail off, some sort of realization dawning on you way too late.

It can't be.

Lily bites her lower lip as if trying to hold back a smile. "Is that what it smells like to you?"

You also catch the scent of quill ink and freshly brewed coffee, so it can only be…

You put your hand away from your nose as if it's on fire.

"Tell me this is not what I think this is."

"If you're not thinking of Amortentia, then yes."

"Why would you brew Amortentia?!"

"For Professor Slughorn," she sees the confusion etched on your face and looks positively horrified. "Not for Professor Slughorn to drink! Ew! I said I'd like to try brewing one because it's, you know, a bit complicated and I've never tried before. He said he'd give Gryffindor some points if I succeeded. I didn't know you would… you know, smell Sirius."

"I never said I smelled him!"

"Okay! Okay," Lily raises both hands in surrender. Then, quieter, she adds, "You can pretend all you want."

You sigh. "Did you only have this vial?"

"Well, there should be some potion left in the cauldron, I think."

Great. An opportunity to escape this beyond strange situation. "I'll go get it for you."

"But I-"

You're out the Gryffindor common room before Lily has a chance to question your offer. The need to get away from that impending conversation is stronger than anything else right now.

Your heart is racing as you walk through the corridors of the castle, heading towards the dungeons, where Potions class usually take place. Each step is an effort to calm your turbulent mind and find some peace.

Upon reaching the Potions classroom, you welcome the silent space as you enter. The characteristic smell of magical ingredients and herbs fills your nostrils, bringing a familiar and almost comforting sensation… until you catch that smell. Amortentia.

You look around, searching for Lily's cauldron, which she mentioned leaving behind.

It's not hard to find; the smell is quite distinct, enchanting, all the things you love most in the world somehow united in a single aroma.

The cauldron is sitting on one of the workbenches. You approach cautiously, making sure not to knock anything over. Then you rummage through the shelves for an empty vial and pour some of the potion into it, feeling like you're doing something wrong even though Lily had Slughorn's permission.

The door opens, and you almost drop a row of glass bottles as you turn to look.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

It's Sirius. Of course, it's him.

He closes the door behind him, and your heart skips a beat as it usually does whenever he's around. He's wearing the Gryffindor uniform, the first two buttons undone, revealing a patch of delicate skin just below his neck.

You don't need to wonder how he got there or why. Chances are, he extracted every piece of information he needed from Lily with little to no effort.

"What are you doing?" he asks calmly. You, on the other hand, don't feel calm at all.

"Nothing, just..."

"Just?" He takes a step closer, and you instinctively move away from the workbench, trying not to show the nervousness you truly feel.

"I just came to get something," you say.

Sirius gives a suspicious glance at the cauldron. "Is it a love potion?" He's a skilled wizard. Skilled enough to know the answer to that question, yet he waits for you to respond.

"Lily made it," you say defensively, holding up the vial containing the potion to illustrate your point unnecessarily.

"And what scent do you smell?" he questions, with a genuine curiosity in his tone that catches you off guard. "What does the potion smell like to you?"

"Lily told you," it's far from a question.

But Sirius has a knack for playing games.

"She told me what?"

"You know what."

This time, you step back as he advances, unable to help yourself, swallowing hard and Sirius notices. He takes another step forward, and you take another step back.

"Sirius," you warn.

In return, Sirius says your name, his tone lighter, more playful, soft as a feather. Then, another step.

You nearly bump your hip against one of the workbenches as you take another desperate step back. Sirius, being Sirius, raises an eyebrow, making no effort to hide his amusement.

It's unfair. It's simply unfair that he's so good-looking, starting at you without feeling the need to averting his gaze. "You don't have to do this," you find yourself saying.

Sirius seems genuinely puzzled.

"Do what?"

You steal a glance in your peripheral vision. The room won't go on forever; you need to say something to get out of this situation before he gets too close. You don't trust yourself near Sirius.

"Turn me down. Be all nice-" you stutter. He keeps advancing toward you. Back almost against the wall, you dodge another workbench and turn to the left, trying to prevent him from cornering you.

Sirius chuckles. "Is that what you think?"

"I'm a big girl. I can take rejection."

He glances in the direction of the cauldron. "Do you want to know what scent I smell?"

"No."

"Leather-"

"Sirius-"

"Gasoline," he raises his chin, nose in the air as if enjoying one scent after another. "Apple pie."

For a moment, you close your eyes. "Stop it."

"And lavender."

Your heart is pounding in your chest. He's not being serious, a little voice in your mind insists. It can't be serious. He's just teasing you... or maybe just being a good friend. Too good a friend.

It would be easier if he wasn't. If he were less kind to you, less handsome, less charming.

It's not easy.

You're breathless, trying to keep your distance from Sirius as he sets a slow advance, a constant tease. It's an internal battle between the desire to give in to the attraction you feel for him and the need to protect yourself — but the latter wins, for now.

"Sirius," you plead, your voice quiet, "stop"

He pauses for a moment, his gray eyes fixed on yours. "You think I'm joking, don't you? You think I'm just being nice?"

"I... I don't know, Sirius. It's so...confusing."

He takes yet another step towards you, his lips curling into a challenging smile. Always challenging. "Confusing or scary?"

The tension between you two is palpable, and you wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of your heart, threatening to break out of your rib cage any given moment. You know you're fighting your own feelings, afraid of surrendering to something that may - and probably will - end in heartbreak.

"It's not fair," you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady. "It's not fair that you're so... so-"

"So what?" he teases, closer. "So handsome? So charming? So... irresistible?"

You can tell he's somehow having fun. You don't understand how he can maintain a playful tone in a moment like this.

You catch a whiff of his cologne, feel the warmth of his body, and your heart races once again. If there's a way to prevent Sirius from getting what he wants, you don't know what it is. "So confusing," you finish, almost in a whisper. "You confuse the hell out of me."

Sirius pauses for a moment, his eyes locked with yours, and you momentarily catch a flicker of something deeper in this playful gaze. He slowly raises a hand and gently, gentler than ever, caresses your face, his fingers tracing a delicate path along your skin.

"I don't see how I could be confusing you," he murmurs, his voice soft and husky. "I thought I was being pretty clear..." It's teasing, of course it is; when it comes to Sirius, few things aren't.

But there's something else behind it, too.

The air grows heavier.

"You're not clear about anything, Sirius," you reply, your voice faltering slightly. "I never know what you're thinking. I never know what you really mean."

"Maybe you're just not paying attention."

You furrow your brow, confused by Sirius' response. He's playing with you, as he always does, but this time it feels more intense, more meaningful. You struggle against the temptation to give in completely, to say something you might not be able to take back.

"I do pay attention, Sirius," you respond, your voice showing determination you're not entirely sure you feel. "It's you who likes to make everything more difficult than it needs to be."

He moves closer once again, so close now that you can feel his breath against your skin, the tip of his nose an inch away from touching yours.

"Do you want me to be clearer?" he whispers, voice laced with a hint of his usual mischief. "Make it easier?"

You swallow, feeling your heart race. You know you can't admit your feelings for him, you can't let your defenses down. Not when he makes a point to hide comfortably behind a facade, away from anything that makes him feel vulnerable.

You need honesty.

"Yes," you whisper, your voice almost faltering. "Yes, I do."

Sirius pauses for a moment, eyes searching yours, and you can feel your breath catch in your throat. Then, slowly, he moves closer and closer still, until his lips almost touch yours.

There is a feeling that you can't quite put into words.

"I want you," he murmurs, an admission that hangs in the air like a charged electric current. "I want to be with you. I want you to be happy– I'll even accept your awful taste in music," he adds with a playful smirk, teasingly referencing your occasional guilty pleasure for a particular genre of music that he often mocks.

A laugh escapes your lips, a combination of relief and affection. His sincerity is pretty close to melting away any remaining doubts that linger in your heart. "I have great taste in music," you state playfully.

Sirius brushes the side of his nose against yours affectionately. "Sometimes," he gives in, voice filled with genuine warmth.

You lean into his touch, savoring the tenderness and intimacy of the moment. It's as if the world around you has faded away, leaving only the two of you in this bubble of shared emotions.

"Sometimes?" you raise an eyebrow, pretending to be offended.

He chuckles, a low and melodic sound that resonates deep within your chest, a sound you don't get to hear as often as you'd like. "You're lucky you're pretty," he teases, his voice filled with affectionate playfulness.

"Oh?"

"I have a soft spot for pretty girls."

You roll your eyes but can't help the smile that forms on your lips. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Black."

Sirius leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, pulling away with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Who said I was trying to get anywhere?" he whispers, fingers trailing along the curve of your waist, drawing you closer. "I'm already where I want to be."

Your heart swells with warmth, and you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Smooth talker."

It doesn't sound like an accusation when you're about to kiss him.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black x you #sirius black oneshot #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfic #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #sirius x you #sirius x reader #marauders fanfic #marauders imagine #sirius black drabble #marauders drabble #marauders era

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hanibalistic · 5 months

Text

DRUNKEN WITH A SENSE OF LOVE | HWANG HYUNJIN.

genre | romance / drunken confessions / fake dating au

synopsis | you and hyunjin got drunk at different times, and you two took care of each other similarly.

word count | 7.1k+

warning | mentions of insecurity / brief allusion to sexual themes / alcohol and drunkenness

note | i changed almost everything about this.

Hyunjin has gotten himself etched to the back of your mind, and you genuinely did not like that.

You didn't blame him, though. If anything, you blame yourself for falling so head over heels for him.

For one, Hyunjin couldn’t help who falls in love with him. He couldn’t suppress his overwhelmingly good looks if he tried, which he never did. He enjoyed the positive attention, however shallow they often were. He also couldn’t put a pause on his decent personality, which came as a genuine surprise to you after you got to know him better through this fake dating scheme. You always thought beautiful people harbored the ugliest heart, out of envy and bitterness. Hyunjin wasn’t like that. You didn’t think he was, at least.

For two, you should have known better than to fall in love with a man leagues above your selection pool. People called it self-degradation, a lack of self-esteem, having no self-worth, and whatnot. You considered it a down-to-earth trait, a reality check, understanding your limits, and whatnot. Hyunjin was a boy you should fall in love with in moderation but never utterly, ardently, absolutely. You were, unfortunately, the latter.

For three, and this was the stupidest part, you two were temporarily dating. Hyunjin was honest when he approached you and said that his friends, at the ripe age of twenties and pursuing higher education, thought you were good enough to be the butt of a romantic joke. They had challenged him to chase you, get you into a relationship, and break your heart. It was a heinous and, frankly, childish game, but you agreed to it with him for the prize money.

It was worth it at that time. It was easy money! Who wouldn’t want that? You didn’t feel that way now. Pretending to be in a loving relationship with him has short-term perks but long-term losses.

Hyunjin was practically in you, etched to the back of your mind, tattooed on the inside of your skin, taken by your bloodied hands to the bottom of your grave. The degree to which your heart dropped for him was unexplainable by yourself. Therefore, having the excuse to go on dates and hold his hands in public, snuggle with him during outings with his friends, and maintain a pleasant friendship with him behind closed doors were great experiences. But when the time comes for separation, you will hurt, not merely over the breakup, but the reminder that he has never felt more for you, that your wonderful experience with him was just an experience.

Clumsy stumbling could be heard outside his apartment, and not a second later came a round of demanding knocks. Hyunjin's head perked up at the noise, his eyes wide in alert at the sudden banging. He looked at the door momentarily before finally looking over to the clock, his brows furrowing slightly at the late time. He waited to check if it could be a drunken stranger approaching the wrong door, but soon enough, another round of aggressive knocks sounded.

Holding the thought that it could just be his roommate, Han Jisung, coming back home late for yet another odd reason, and also praying inwardly that he wouldn't have to spend the night taking care of a loud, obnoxious, and very drunk Jisung, he made his way up and approached the door.

Flinging the door open, Hyunjin did a double-take before his annoyed expression morphed into one of surprise. His arm went slack against the wooden frame of the door, and he took an instinctive step forward when he saw your drunken state—your features were scrunched up in discomfort, your eyes squinted because astigmatism had taken over on your walk to the apartment building, and you were hunched over. You were not at all the way you used to look, not the way he was used to seeing you, which was always so presentable and well put together.

An amused smile appeared on his face as he eyed you up and down, wanting nothing more than to make fun of and tease you even without your ability to form the perfect retorts he has grown to be highly fond of. But you sniffed for a moment and took a step forward. In that exact second, you had Hyunjin doubling over to catch you before you could fall to the floor, concern lining up the crinkles of his eyes as he looked down at you.

"Woah, alright! Let’s stand slowly, okay?" he commanded gently, cooing at your side as if talking to a child.

His arms curled around your shoulder and waist with a protective grip, and he hoisted your weight by supporting you with his own. Pulling you into the apartment, he shut the door slowly with his feet before returning his attention to you, hoping to bring you to the couch where you could lie down and rest.

“Jeez, babe, how much did you drink?” he laughed, dragging your unresponsive body along with him.

You groaned lowly, trying your best to hold down the acidic taste rushing at the back of your mouth. You wouldn’t know it, but this was not what you had planned for the night. Your friends did their job sending you home safely. Who would have thought you’d leave your apartment shortly after just to stumble to Hyunjin’s home? It was a short distance from your place, but what a miracle you made it without any major accidents! And what a disaster you made it to his home while being high on alcoholic honesty!

You snapped your head up. You were at the perfect angle to stare at his side profile, allowing you the premium shot of his perfect jawline, luscious locks, beautiful lashes, button tip of his nose, and just the most kissable lips you have ever seen. A grimace reached your face. It was an instinctive response. His good looks indeed couldn’t hide even behind the blurriest of eyes. You thought if you lied to your body enough, your mind would follow, so you grimaced whenever you looked at him, hoping to start disliking him. It hasn’t worked.

"Hwang Hyunjin,” you muttered.

He chuckled. “Yes. That is me."

You gulped, still staring at him. Then, as you lowered your eyes to the floor, you leisurely suggested what’s been on your mind recently, “We should break up."

Of all the things you have done within these few months of him meeting you, including you agreeing to help him lie to his friends about this fake dating challenge to punching someone in the face for shaming his impulsive sex life, which you weren’t surprised he has, this one caught him off guard the most. This one also made him panic. It was fear, like sweaty hands and dry lips, like his mind racing with terrible thoughts, racing with made-up reasons as to why you would want that, racing with every single action he has done that could be counted as a mistake.

"Wh–what? Why do you–why? Why are we breaking up? We are fine. I didn't do anything–did I do something?" Hyunjin stuttered, unconsciously tightening his grip on your body before he let out a gentle but firm whisper, "No."

“I know, I am sorry. I don’t know–I’m just sorry,” you slurred, long stopped looking at him and instead was now leaning your entire weight against him like a wall. Your hands waved about in the air. "You are mad at me, aren't you? Of course–“ you snorted obnoxiously–“it’s a lot of money! I’ll pay you. Break up with me, don’t be mad.”

Hyunjin stared at you as you laughed manically. It sounded choked up, like you’ve got wet coughs prepared in your throat, but he could tell you were far from shedding tears, unlike good ol’ sensitive him, who remained in a state of anxiety and was still trying to process why you brought up separation. It wasn’t time for the fake dating to end. It was nowhere near it! To suggest breaking up so early must mean something was wrong with him, but what was? He couldn’t tell! To think he was just losing his mind over what to do once it was time for this fake relationship to end.

“Hyunjin,” you called him once when you noticed his silence. Looking up at him, you furrowed your brows and reached up to brush his face clumsily with your hand, pushing your fingertips against his skull. “Hyunjin? Hey. Answer me. Hey. Hello. Hyunjin!”

He leaned away from your aggressive touch, his shoulders relaxing at your playful antics. A smile formed uncontrollably on his lips when you doubled down on smearing your hands all over his face after his dodges. He was left haplessly struggling between missing your direct eyeball pokes and keeping you from falling to the ground. You grinned out loud; he mirrored it, and he didn’t hear the sound of your laughs mixing together because he hears it all the time.

“You are very drunk, [Name],” he managed to comment after grabbing both of your hands and keeping them at his face level. His tight-lipped smile sparkled when you attempted a struggle, like a parent reprimanding their child, then he moved your hands to your face and squeezed your cheeks together. Your lip jutted out in response. He leaned in to kiss your cupid’s bow. “You’re being silly. Let’s get you cleaned up and back to bed.”

The frown on your face made him nervous. His hands slowly slipped from your face, and your hands fell to your sides. You remained silent, and he let the clogs in your brain move. Your thoughts weren’t clear. The only thing you were sure of was that the man standing before you was Hwang Hyunjin, your temporary boyfriend, and you’d spent the whole night trying to drink your feelings for him away. You came to his apartment for a reason—you needed to break up with him for your own good.

“No, I can’t go to bed yet. I have something to do.” You yawned and waved an arm dismissively. You spoke before you finished yawning, leaving your words hanging in the air in slow motion. “I came to tell you something.”

Hyunjin’s hands curled into fists. He let go, tightened them, and let go again to alleviate the sweat gathering at his palms. You were surprisingly hell-bent on the topic, which led him to believe it went beyond a moment of drunkenness. It must have been a conclusion formed long ago, and you have just now mustered the courage to let him know. But why? What did he do? What did he not do?

He was more than nervous, if there was a word to describe the state of his heart. This was more than a personal problem, which he admittedly still has to work through, but far more significant than himself was you—his feelings for you, his immense affection for you, the fact that he loved you the way you warned yourself not to love him but did anyway. It wasn’t your fault. Your observant eyes, your sincerity, your care for him. It wasn’t your fault. He fell in love with you of his own accord.

If you left him, he would be like a dog without a leash, a dog without an owner. He would wander aimlessly, filled with rage and dread, sniffing every darkened corner for a whiff of your scent.

“Are you breaking up with me?” he asked meekly.

You sucked in a deep breath to counter your congested chest, then you shook your head in agreement. “Yes.”

You were very drunk. He shouldn’t take your words into consideration. “That’s fine,” he said as he stepped toward you, “can we get cleaned up and go to bed anyway? It’s very late.”

“No, I don’t want you touching me anymore.” You stepped back dramatically and hugged yourself into a protective stance. “It’s for the better.”

He wondered what that meant. Were you repulsed by him? Did you finally realize how disgusting his inability to stay away from sexual and romantic validation was? Were you ashamed to be associated with him because of his impulsive behavior? He was only good for a short time; did you come to that realization? You were too good for him. He always knew that.

Hyunjin retreated his hand from mid-air. His hands met before his abdomen, his fingers immediately picking at each other as he uncomfortably shifted his weight. The corner of his lips arched downward at your rejection, but he tried to keep them neutral so he wouldn’t be influenced into crying. There wasn’t much else he could do with himself if being near you was no longer an option. He looked lost and wronged; he felt so.

“[Name], did I do something?” he asked, rubbing his elbow awkwardly. “Why do you suddenly want to break up with me?”

You blinked at a random space on the wall. Sitting below your sight was a messy square table with unwashed cups, scattered papers, and a closed laptop. Even in a state of haze, you knew they didn’t belong to him. Hyunjin was more organized than that. He told you once it made his school experience much easier to have everything in one place: his computer, which you knew he often kept in his school bag. You sniffed; you knew him like the back of your hand.

“I can’t tell you,” you replied slowly, not looking at him. “It’s a secret.”

Hyunjin tilted his head. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

He sounded convincing, so you gradually moved your eyes to access him. Standing in front of you, timid as a mouse, was Hwang Hyunjin. You knew that, and you knew that your secret was to be kept from him. Yet, somehow, all that did not register once you were engaged in a conversation with him. He was Hyunjin, just a person you were talking to. If he promised not to tell, then it should be fine.

“You promise?” you asked.

Hyunjin nodded. “I promise.”

You pouted with a glare, willing him to waver and show any sign of deception, but he stood his ground and waited for you to expose your deepest and darkest feelings to him. A faint grumble sounded from your mouth. You looked around briefly to check for any eavesdroppers before you walked a few tentative steps toward him, and you confessed, “I’m in love with you.”

It was like a shot through the heart, and the shot was aimed so successfully that the organ tore off its hinges and fell to his abdomen where his hands fiddled nervously with each other. It may be asking for an exit out of his body, it may be seeking its new owner, or it may come knocking boldly at your mouth and ask to fit inside you. Hyunjin remained perplexed at your confession. The confession had a bitter taste; he wasn’t sure what to make of it or if he deserved it from someone like you.

“[Name]…”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I am very in love with you. It’s stupid.”

He couldn’t tell, but you understood, despite a fogged mind, that letting him know your affection for him was a cause for your demise. Your emotions were in a whirlwind, collecting up the fragments of all the heart pieces you've broken because of Hyunjin and how you had confronted yourself multiple times with your own delusions that this wouldn't be like the movies. He would never fall in love with you just because you two got closer from months of fake dating.

Even then, he was empathetic to your body language, especially how much they mirrored his. His shoulders slumped at how you turned away from him to trail your attention off somewhere safer, where he wasn’t in your sight. Registering his beautiful face was hard for you because you couldn’t have him; processing his existence and your proximity to him was difficult because you could never have him. You turned away from him to further signify to yourself the assumed truth, your trembling fingers pulling at each other to avoid an awkward standstill.

Hyunjin was etched to the back of your brain. He was overwhelming, and he was far away. Unable to contain the sudden reminder that you were never going to get over him, a rush of tears started to tremble their way up to your eyes. Your face scrunched without remorse, and your head dropped near your shoulders alarmingly quickly that it startled him.

“I love you, I’m so sorry,” you sobbed. It made him panic. “Please break up with me.”

“Why are we breaking up if you love me, silly?” he forced a laugh once he approached you.

His lanky arms were clumsy and gentle after he pulled at his sweater sleeves to wipe your tears. They hovered awkwardly over your face, gauging how much strength to use to effectively dry your eyes but not push you any further away from him. He cooed a bunch of nonsense, but they were sweet like sleepy kisses on your hands. Eventually, he cupped your face and wiped your eyes with his thumbs. You let him; he made you laugh when he apologized for using too much force, even though he never did.

“You don’t love me, Hyunjin,” you muttered.

“Nonsense,” he retorted within a second, “who said that?”

You didn’t reply, so he stood with his arms raised for a whole minute while you leaned the weight of your head against his palms. He thought it terribly horrific that he ought to remember the shape of your face with his slender fingers because of his inability to sew his skin into yours. If his hands were like superglue, he could be attached to you forever—your face, your features, you, his most favorite thing in the world. His hands would burn, but what of it? Better you scorch him than to never be touched by you at all.

“Hyunjin,” you called when you were finished zoning out.

“Mhm?”

“I love you. I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m so ugly.”

Growing up being valued for his beautiful features taught him to devalue it. He didn’t care for it. He wouldn't cry about it if he were to earn a permanent scar across his face. Yet, even then, if he were to have one, he was sure people would rave about how the scar ruined his face rather than talk about how he obtained it. Except for you. You’d ask about it, like you always asked everything about him.

The kind of person you were, his most favorite person in the world—you were detailed like that, and you made him feel an essence of humanity others didn’t. With you, he wasn’t ethereal, he wasn’t a God, he wasn’t an angel fallen to Earth. He didn’t have to be because you never put him on some miraculous pedestal. He was just Hwang Hyunjin; his favorite food is his mother’s cooking, he makes clumsy mistakes and looks funny when he does, and he enjoys making art.

Not a model, not God’s favorite, not pretty. Just a boy, and he’s in love with you.

“Okay,” he said, “I’m ugly too.”

He didn’t deny your false claims; you were the prettiest he had ever known, but only he needed to know that. When there comes a time for him to praise and worship your physical body, he will. For now, there wasn’t anything much he wanted to say in return. Just that he was the same as you.

Your souls didn’t collide that way, obviously. You two were completely different people with varying hobbies and friend groups. However, Hyunjin was willing to chase you like Hell to meet where you were. There wasn’t anything he wanted to be if he couldn’t be it with you. Whatever you are, he is.

There was another long pause. Hyunjin patiently waited, tender eyes concentrated on each crevice of your face as he stroked your stained cheeks with his thumb. You didn’t say anything more, only slapping your hands over his and pulling them from your face. He thought you were moving away, but you took a step forward instead and dove into his arms. You hugged him around his neck, hanging off him like a sloth. He chuckled, swaying you side to side. You were tired, he knew.

“It’s getting late, baby,” he whispered, leaning back to watch your closed eyes and laughing. He ran a hand through your hair multiple times, getting a clearer view of your face. “Let’s clean up and go to bed, okay?”

You groaned and muttered in response. He didn’t hear what you said. He kept sweeping your hair back. Supporting you with his weight, you were heavy, but he didn’t mind. You wouldn’t be able to change your clothes by yourself, so he would help you. It’d be sloppy and slow, and he wouldn’t mind. You would take up most of the bed, sprawled out without a clue that you weren’t sleeping in your apartment. Your body heat would scratch up a fever in him, and he wouldn’t mind. He enjoyed taking care of you.

Staring at him as he stroked your hair, you pouted before uttering three familiar words, “I love you.”

Hyunjin smiled. Whatever you are, he is. He kissed your nose and your eyes. He told you he loves you too.

It was one of those nights when Hyunjin couldn’t spend time with you, and you were unreasonably disappointed about it.

You slouched atop the couch you got at a flea market, which Hyunjin had to convince you to get after repeatedly reassuring you that there wouldn’t be any actual fleas hiding in the creases. This uncomfortable position resulted from five hours of continuous mumbling about how you should not be upset that Hyunjin didn’t choose to spend the night with you, which he had done the past few weeks. He has been somewhat clingy lately, and you couldn’t imagine why. You thought your act was good. There was no way his friends doubted you.

This could be the calm before the storm. Even though you two had concocted a detailed timeline for your fake dating, you wouldn’t be surprised if Hyunjin abruptly cut it short. If that was true, his current sweetness was nothing more than a buildup to a dramatic and convincing breakup.

Pouting in dismay, you rolled up the bag of chips and reached for the tea table beside you, your fingertips wiggling to graze past the black binder clip you used to keep the plastic bag sealed. Amid your frustrated groaning, still refusing to get your ass off the couch even after more than ten seconds of struggling, the doorbell suddenly rang, and coming after that were loud bangs at your door.

A shiver ran down your spine as you snapped your head toward the direction of the noise, your brows rising abruptly at the fearful intrusion. Slowly throwing your chip bag on the table, you stood up and tip-toed your way over to the door where you pressed your hands to the wooden surface and carefully looked through the peephole.

A gasp caught in your throat when you saw Hyunjin’s face standing just a few inches away from the circle as if leaning against the door for support. You immediately moved out and unlocked your door, swinging it open to reveal him fully. Taking a good look at his face before he started to throw his little drunken tantrum—messy hair, concentrated brows, droopy eyelids, and a general look of discomfort—you concluded that he definitely has been downing more shots than he could handle.

“What happened to you?”

You stepped up to put your hands on either side of his arm, carefully bringing him into your apartment. He stumbled with most of his weight straining on your shoulder. There were so many stutters in his steps that you almost dragged him into a fall with you on your way to the couch. After setting him down, he snorted at the cushy feeling of your couch. It took him a while to process the new environment, and then he arched his neck to find you.

Hyunjin could barely make out your face. He couldn’t even be sure if he went to your apartment, but subconsciously, he could tell he was at your place. He felt it in your timid touches just now, and whatever scent he whiffed out of the air, it smelt like you. Licking his lower lip as his worries slowly faded away and his attention—as much as he could muster—returned, he mumbled a string of incoherent noises under his breath before he, much to your palpitating heart’s dismay, pulled you onto the couch next to him.

He got on top of you; his legs had to bend in weird ways to accommodate the small couch, and he placed his palms on either side of your head to trap you under him. You felt heat forming on your cheeks as you shrunk beneath his shadow, your eyes widening at the proximity. Hyunjin has never done this before. The closeness wasn’t new, but the position of it was. Being under him was an unbelievable feeling. He looked beautiful, and his toned muscles became more visible by supporting his own weight. How your thoughts were smeared! You doubted your body would forget how well he could cage you in.

Hyunjin stared at you with a low, drunken hum. Then, suddenly, he leaned down to meet your face.

“[Name],” he started, lowering his head tiredly to your shoulder, “you wanted to break up with me?”

You blinked up at the ceiling, confused, but you figured it could be the alcohol talking for him, so you chose to disregard all the questions that popped into your head. Holding out your arms to push against his chest, you attempted to sit up. “I don’t want to break up with you, Hyunjin.”

He seemed to be processing your answer as he allowed you to set him aside and give yourself more space. You sat quietly next to him, letting him have the time to think over what he wanted to say. The thoughtful pout on his face told you it was difficult for him to use his brain, but it looked cute enough that you almost took a picture to tease him about it once he got sober. You wondered if his response would be nonsense as well.

“Why do you want to break up with me?” he whispered, causing you to sigh. He hasn’t heard you, after all. His lips were pursed into a frown, and his eyes were squinted to show that he was very close to leaking a few tears down his cheeks, but you couldn’t read between the lines and realize what his despair meant. Hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt, he abruptly turned to you and sniffed. “You can’t do that to me. I won’t–I won’t let you do that to me.”

You tilted your head to the side, your brows constantly furrowed. Where was he getting this idea from? You tried to recall any off-handed comments you made. Still, they were primarily directed elsewhere and never at your fake relationship. You’ve never said anything bad about him, not to him, and never behind his back. There wasn’t anything outstandingly mean to say anyway, so what sprung this on?

Returning to reality, your head faintly shook as you looked up at Hyunjin to ask his drunken state about the reason behind this outburst. Your eyes widened instead when you saw he had taken his shirt off, the lump of fabric discarded on the floor carelessly. Heat blossomed at the base of your neck, and you felt your joints sour in panic; seriously, what sprung this on! This was a much bigger issue than drunkenness!

When you noticed his hands reaching to the belt of his jeans, you immediately lunged toward him and circled his wrists to stop his movements. Your panic became a surprised concern at his need to strip naked in your apartment. You doubted he wanted to show you his body. Even if he did, this wasn’t how you wanted to do it.

Moving his hands away, you urged, “No. We’re not doing that.”

“No, I have to! I have to!”

He snatched his hands away from yours and dove to unbuckle his belt again. His movements grew increasingly frustrated the more you blocked his attempt to remove his pants. You were annoying, but he wasn’t angry at you. He was scared. He wasn’t getting what he wanted, and he thought you might leave him if he didn’t show you what he could offer. It scared him that you didn’t want to see him whole, so eventually, he began to sob.

“I have to show you, [Name]. Please let me!” Hyunjin whined, hands tugging harshly at each other by his chest.

“You don’t have to show me anything,” you assured as you grabbed a few tissues from the tea table. You dabbled softly at his eyes. “Come on, let’s put your clothes back on.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks like knives against your skin. He felt uncomfortable at this unfamiliar sequence. Things usually go smoothly after he reveals himself. Nobody has ever refused to see him, so why did you? What about himself was so repulsive that you couldn’t take one look at his bare skin? Why didn’t you love him back?

“No.” he slurred, then paused to catch his breath.

The moment of calm was gone too soon. His hands reached up to ruffle his hair in a frenzy. His heart hammering against his chest, yet his brain wasn’t sane enough to understand what the sudden panic was about, just that it had something to do with you. That obliviousness, as a result, was making him even more agitated.

“You need to love me again!” he exclaimed, eyes brimming with unknown tears. “People love me when I take my clothes off. You need to love me again!”

A puff of air slowly made its way out of your half-parted lips. You could feel the stretching of your heartstrings. Hyunjin cried as he shrank into himself, his arms going around his cold body for a sense of comfort, and the sight toyed with your head by sending waves of deep anguish like mere laps of the ocean. The feeling deranged you—to realize Hyunjin experiences such a level of hopelessness and loneliness was heartbreaking. More importantly, you felt ignorant of his problems. You should have been a better friend, perhaps even a better lover.

“Hey,” you called out gently as you scooted toward him. You brought one hand up to his face to direct his eyes to you. You smiled softly when you found that he was opening his squinted eyes to stare back. “I’m going to get something, so wait here for me, okay?”

He sniffed, tasting the tears rolling down his mouth, and nodded. You rubbed his cheek with your thumb, ever so gingerly placing a hand at the small of his back, hoping to calm him down, but it turned out Hyunjin had a thought of his own. After feeling the warmth of your hand, he took it as a sign that you wanted to hug him, so he obliged immediately by wrapping his arms around your torso and putting his head on your shoulder.

You breathed a small chuckle when he made weird noises after finding a space at the crook of your neck. The transition from him throwing a tantrum to having a mini panic attack to being the clingiest person you have ever met was amusing. As was the transition from your mind being filled with annoyance and confusion to having your feelings torn into shreds to breathing out a chuckle. It was entertaining, and the fact that Hyunjin could bring out so many different aspects of your emotions was undeniably endearing.

He was that kind of person. He has always been. More than beautiful, he was expressive, selfless, and tender-minded. Watching him allowed you to live an emotional life vicariously. All the things you ignored in the past because of mental stress were repainted in colors by his hands. The movie you never watched, the ice cream you never tried, the districts you never visited, and the fireworks show you never stayed for—everything meant something to Hyunjin, so everything meant something to you.

To him, love was a grave of sacrifices. Of his time, his space, his body, and his mind. He was willing to give, and he has given you all except one. You wouldn’t know any of it.

You moved to the back of the couch, cautiously pressing your back up against the edge. Hyunjin followed you, shifting his position so he lay stuffed against your chest with your arms around his shoulders. His fingers played with each other shyly on top of his bare chest as he looked around your apartment absentmindedly. He couldn’t register anything but the fabric of your clothes and how small you made him feel.

He finally looked at you after a moment. His cries had long ceased and left only trails of dry tears on his dearest cheeks. With his eyelashes still wet, glittering beautifully in the air, he blinked, his eyes widening after he found out you had been looking down at him. Suddenly, he grinned childishly with a hint of sun hidden in his smile. “What are you looking at?”

You hummed, finding Hyunjin utterly irresistible even with his tear-stained cheeks and slurred laughter. He was all messy and puzzling, but your heart pushed against itself to give him space to stay inside. “I’m looking at you, silly.”

“Oh, you’re looking at me.” He giggled, covering half his face with his hands and shutting his eyes shyly. He squirmed around in your arms, but not once did he move far enough to not feel you against him. When he was done, he returned back to the original position, and he peeked an eye through the gap between his fingers. He laughed. “ I am looking at you too.”

“I know you are,” you said, fingers threading through his feathery locks with serenity, and a smile so heartwarming that Hyunjin couldn’t help but focus his sight on it.

“Why?” he asked, his eyes shaky.

You pursed your lips together and shrugged. “I can’t tell you. It is a secret.”

Hyunjin’s gaze hardened naively, a gasp ripping through his throat as he leaned back against your hand. “Tell me! I promise I won’t tell anyone else.”

“You promise?”

“I promise!” he exclaimed, sitting up slightly and bumping his forehead against your chin. He burst into a fit of giggles then, rubbing his forehead for a while before reaching the same hand out to touch your chin sloppily. “I’m sorry, I hit your face.”

“It's okay,” you said, your thumb soothing against the spot he had bumped into you. “But you promise me you can keep a secret? It’s very important!”

He nodded eagerly. “I promise!”

“Okay,” you said as you looked up at the sky, pretending to think. “The reason why I am looking at you is really simple. It is because I love you.”

You glanced back down at him to find him looking at you in astonishment. He licked his lower lip. His mind cleared a little for the first time, and he felt all of the universe that was your body pressed close to him. Beyond that, there were more minor things. Your heart beat faster than his, making him chase after you like a madman; the warmth of your skin equated to the warmth he manually cultivated in his bed by stacking multiple blankets together, an attempt to replicate your presence at night; your soft voice, going through his blurry ears, sounded like the subconscious voice he hears all the time. Maybe his subconscious was all just you.

Those were all fragments of proof of how much he loved you. To think you returned his feelings—he didn’t know what to think.

“Really?” He sounded so surprised. It was almost heartbreaking.

“Yes,” you nodded, “even when we both have clothes on.”

He looked down and touched your shirt. “Oh, you are wearing a shirt.”

“Yes, I am.”

He gazed at it briefly before, with an invisible shrug, leaned his cheek against your chest. “You’re warm. I like it.”

You smiled, feeling like your lips were about to extend out of your cheeks to become wider. “You’re cold because you took your shirt off!”

He scoffed and said nothing. Hyunjin was unguarded and half-stripped before you, chastely snuggling up against your chest while slurred words spilled out of his mouth like a mantra. You didn’t try to understand him; he wasn’t looking to have a conversation. You just wanted to lay together without a thought or a worry. Occasionally, he would sit up just to look at your face, then hum and lay back down, continuing to rot.

It was such a wondrous thing.

“Do you want to wash up and go to bed?” you asked. “Are you tired?”

“No. I want to stay here. I like it here.”

Hyunjin let out a dreamy sigh. He threw his head back with a smile, his hair hitting your jaw and sprawled over the crook of your neck. He tilted his head then, letting it fall along your shoulder. His eyes were closed with bliss, and he laughed to himself. When he opened his eyes, there was only the shadow of your side profile, which was good for him. He wanted to kiss the skin, filled with close-up bumps and blemishes. It was a side profile he’ll know for the rest of his life, and he’ll whisper ‘I love you’ to a million times.

“I have a secret to tell you,” he mentioned.

You raised a brow, intrigued, and urged him to continue, “What is it?”

He bit his lower lip and scurried off your body. You sat up straighter then, watching as he stumbled over to the front door for the bag he discarded on the ground. He crouched to pull a small notebook out easily before returning to you. He stopped by the couch, his eyes concentrated as he stared at the notebook's cover. Then, without another word, he dropped back onto your body and made you wrap your arms around him like before.

“I draw you all the time. In my sketchbook.”

He grinned out loud in the same way you would grin at him. His fingers played with the blank pages before, finally, he arrived at one filled with traces of his pencil. You gasped. He wasn’t spilling nonsense. The page was filled with beautiful sketches of your face, and so was the next one and the next. He kept flipping his notebook, and everywhere you could find pieces of yourself dotted out sincerely by his hand.

They didn’t look to come from memories, but they were definitely from moments not even you could remember. But Hyunjin remembered everything because he detailed it all in the lines. His inability to not consume all of you tied his hands together and made you his ultimate muse. Almost unconsciously, for a while, the only thing he knew to draw was you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t know how else to pour you out of his mind.

It was overwhelming, and you could see that. He was showing you all his blood work: mornings spent missing you with the tip of a crooked pencil, afternoons spent recalling your features in his head, nights spent tracing your face with his lead-filled fingers under a desk lamp. If he could inhale these sketches of you into his bloodstream and poison himself with those images, leaving an organ tattoo of your presence, he would.

“I love this one,” he said, pointing at a full-body sketch of you. “I was waiting for you at the coffee shop, and you were walking towards me. I love it. I was so excited to see you. I memorized what you wore.”

This sketchbook stayed with him all the time; he felt like he was bringing you with him, like a kid refusing to let go of their blanket. You wouldn’t know anything about that. The beautiful boy in your arms admired you constantly, from the farthest corner of his soul to the tip of his button nose, and you wouldn’t know anything about it.

“I draw you all the time,” he added. “I will never forget what you look like, but I always want to remember.”

The implications of that didn’t fly over your head. His addition to telling you the truth disabled your ability to attribute the fact that he draws you in his free time to him being artistic. But more than being afraid of rejection, you feared a mutual connection. The only thing worse than you finding Hyunjin loveable was him finding that you were as well.

“Do you know why?” he asked, looking at you expectantly.

You wavered. You hadn’t spoken since he showed you his sketches. “Why?”

Hyunjin stared at you. Within the drunken fog of his eyes, there was earnestness. “Because I love you too.”

You didn’t know what to say, and you wouldn’t. There was solace in choosing to believe that he didn’t mean it. When tomorrow arrives, and he returns sober, you wouldn’t speak of this conversation at all. When night comes tomorrow, and he’s had a full day of rest, Hyunjin would vividly recall how you took care of him and told him you loved him, and he would draw you again.

“Do you like them?”

His question snapped you out of your trance. Your sight blurred through a sudden quake before it focused on his face. Hyunjin pouted, his fingers tapping patiently at his notebook for your response. You softened with love and squeezed him in a hug, a smile blooming on your face.

“I’ve never liked anything more,” you complimented, “except for you!”

His legs kicked when you nuzzled your face to the back of his neck. His heart filled, like the sun could fill up a piece of land and the moon could fill up a river, and in return for his joy, he let out a boisterous laugh. He didn’t hear how it sounded with yours. Still, it was such a wondrous thing. Your love was such a wondrous thing.

#stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz x y/n #skz x oc #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids x oc #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids x gender neutral reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you

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praisethesuuun · 1 year

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AAAHHHH. ANOTHER ROR FAN! It's so hard to find people who like it 😭

Anyways, if you take requests at the moment, what about headcanons Hades, Buddha, Loki and Posideon being just complete simps for reader? (If that's too many, just loki or Buddah is fine!)

Just met the person and suddenly, guess I'm in love now, oops!

Anyways, thanks a lot, hope you have a great day!

you're too kind😭😭❤️❤️ It's always so nice to receive such sweet words! Anyway, there you go hun<3 hope you like it

RoR characters headcanons: them being total simps for you!

POSEIDON

🌊This guy is hilarious: he refuses to admit that he's simping over someone. "Gods are perfect. They don't bond to anyone" Yeah...that's a lie-

🌊Hades was the first to notice that something was wrong with his brother, but he decided to stay silent and wait for him to talk about it. Needless to say, he bursted out laughing when Poseidon told him everything: from what he felt when you were near him, to the way your presence brings a breeze of happiness to the midst of the seedy Valhalla.

🌊Poseidon will try to approach you starting from very sneaky things. For example, his favorite thing to do is sit next to you during gods' meetings, scaring anyone in his way. Once he nearly got into a fight with Shiva, because he practically pushed him out of the seat next to you, nearly knocking him off the entire stairway.

🌊During his fight, he will repeatedly make eye contact with you, boasting about his strength and hoping you can notice him... somehow. "Look at me, you fool"

🌊Tsundere mode: on. Poseidon will literally insult you everytime you'll try to talk to him. This dumbass will regret it later alone in his castle.

HADES

☠️Unlike his brother, Hades is more confident, courting you in front of all the gods and calling you "My queen" whenever he can.

☠️He's not sneaky at all and isn't afraid to hide his feelings for you. The only thing that could stop him it's the realization that he could ruin your reputation: it's not the best to hang out with the king of the Underworld, many despise him and he doesn't want you to be treated the same way.

☠️Expect to find your room flooded with various gifts and love letters, each accompanied by a black rose. You often feel sorry for Hermes and wonder how he can carry all that stuff. Yet, you get excited every time you see him arrive with a package, decorated with a delicate purple bow.

☠️Hades is jealous. He does not hesitate to scold and intimidate any deity who tries to approach you, even going against his own brothers (especially Zeus)

☠️When you're alone, Hades wastes no time in jumping on you and filling you with love. If, on the other hand, you are attending a dinner or a meeting, he will place his hand on your hips, refusing to remove it. Plus, he'll kiss you softly without anyone noticing.

LOKI

🐍He will be so annoying! Loki will stick to you like a tick, bothering you as a sign of affection (what a brat...)

🐍He will play jokes on you all the time, immediately bursting out laughing at your reaction. However, if you were to feel bad, telling him that he exaggerated, he will apologize instantly, hugging you and reassuring you. "I'm sorry, please look at me, bunny. I'm sorry... I promise"

🐍Loki is the type to put little flowers in your hair without you noticing, enjoying the view from afar and admiring your beauty. Daisies look so good on you! How could he not enjoy such a view?

🐍You'll likely get involved whenever he makes a mess, and don't be surprised when you're treated like some sort of human shield. Even so, you've never gotten into trouble. Deep down you like it when he suddenly enters your room to hide from Thor, who wouldn't dare to do the same.

🐍Loki loves to float around you, acting like the perfect watchdog. It makes him feel like a perfect partner: protecting you with dedication and love. But there are negative (or positive) sides, of course dirty jokes can't miss: "Look what a nice temper you have, it wasn't like this last night when I-" "SHUT UP"

BUDDHA

🍬He is the boldest lover that could ever happen to you. If he wants to do something, he won't hesitate to do it, everyone knows that. Yet, when it comes to you he becomes totally a servant, without hiding it from others. Do you need something? Well, give him just a second-

🍬Count yourself lucky, Buddha loves you so much that he shares his secret stash of sweets with you! The pocky challenge is a must, but he's favourite thing to do is kissing you indirectly making you suck on the lollipop that he already had in his mouth.

🍬Every once in a while, he lets you find a little love letter on your pillow with a chocolate next to it. He knows he looks like a detached person who thinks only of himself, so he does everything to make you feel his closeness.

🍬Buddha always calls you names. "Come here, sweetie!" "Aww honey, are you angry?" "Gimme one of your sugar kisses, would ya?" He loves the way you blush every time he does it, you're such a cutie!

🍬He trusts you blindly, in fact he doesn't hesitate to ask you for help when he needs it. You protect each other and for Buddha this is one of the most important things in your relationship. Please, tell him how much you love him and don't hesitate to talk about your feeling! You are too important to him, so feel free to tell him everything you want.

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lilmashae · 16 days

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

thigh riding and oral — featuring mark 🎀

you sat there — your and mark's legs intertwined as you both layed on the couch watching some movie. you both agreed to hangout this weekend — missing each other beyond belief thanks to your busy schedules.

you were becoming a bit antsy towards the end of the movie mark's fingers tracing and tapping circles on your hip as you continuously shuffled around. "are you bored already?" he asked. "maybe ..." you mumbled still trying to get comfortable. mark chuckled — before you could finish readjusting for the umpteenth time his hands stopped you: they firmly held you in place on top of him. "what? let me go. i'm trying to — "

"you're trying to get comfortable?" he deadpanned and you sighed. "you win... i'm bored." a pout painted your lips and admitting defeat you fell back into his chest. "this movie sucks mark." you watched the scenes change — the dim light glowing off of his face. your boyfriend's so handsome... "dude no way. you just don't want to watch it." mark was expecting you to protest his claims or whine — however you had found a new distraction: him who was far more interesting than whatever was playing on your flat screen.

if anything mark wasn't expecting you to plant a stern kiss on his lips. the palms of his hands rested on the small of your lower back as you continued to kiss him — your plush lips molding together. "shit... baby the movie..." you love mark — really you do. but sometimes you swear his priorities are out of place. "i don't give a damn about the movie mark — it's boring as hell anyways!" he sucks his teeth. yet he's still willing to compromise. "fine sit up." cocking your eyebrow you eye him up and down. "hurry up before i change my mind."

"i'm going i'm going..." you hurriedly sat up now straddling your boyfriend as he sat before you. "what now?" again mark's hands met your waist as he positioned you on one of his thighs. "this..." still confused you turned your head. "mark what the fuck are we doing..?" you were growing impatient missing his lips — your newfound form of entertainment. "i'm going to watch this movie and you... you're going to ride my thigh." really? "you're kidding me. really? but i — " the room went silent as mark reached for the remote pausing the television. "no buts... you're horny right? you've got what?" he turned his head reading the small numbers adorning the bottom of the screen. "15 minutes to get yourself off alone. then i'll tongue fuck you or something sound good?" as annoyed as you were — mark's never broken a promise which is why you listen to him and begin hesitantly grinding on his thigh.

usually you'd be a little embarrassed — even if you were always challenging mark. however you couldn't care less it's not like he was paying you any attention anyways. for now you were focused on the friction of his thigh flexing against your clothed cunt. however slowly rocking your hips back and forth left you feeling only somewhat satisfied — you buried your head into the crook of mark's neck: whining quietly to yourself and littering bites along with wet kisses onto his throat in efforts to stifle your moans. one of mark's hands had snaked around your waist.

one hand rested on the flat of your lower back this time guiding you forward as he spoke. "8 more minutes baby... all you have t'do is cum for me yeah?" nodding you trailed a couple more kisses down his skin before sitting up — properly riding his thigh: you set a pace grinding down on your boyfriend's thigh and throwing your head back as the fabric of you lounge shorts pinched your clit. it was driving you crazy: mark gently bouncing his leg beneath you as you balanced on top of him. it could be the view in front of him or maybe it was because he could feel your slick on his leg through your shorts — precum seeping through the thin cotton giving him a boner. you could feel your orgasm approaching. however the inconsistent vibrations of mark’s thigh along with the tension thickening between you two made it hard to focus. “fuck y/n…” mark’s eyes trained on your figure writing above him.

the expression on your face was one he always fancied seeing — fucked out and flushed. 60 seconds — that’s how long you had to make yourself cum. mark’s hands firmly held your sides as he let out a loud exhale. “are you close baby?” he rasped out watching as you frantically nodded. 30 seconds — that’s how long you had to ride out your high as your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip. you let the warm pleasurable feeling spread from your stomach to your legs as you came down. still grinding into his leg a gasp ran past your lips… “baby…” you whined into your boyfriend’s ear. 10 seconds — you spent those last seconds needily hurrying sloppy kisses down his neck and continuing to hump now further up on his thigh — closer toward the tent poking through his shorts.

as the credits rolled a sense of relief washed over mark — he wasn’t fond of going back on his word — but finally he could touch you. you were practically burning up. mark’s hands are cold running across the expanse of your upper body under your shirt. “‘ready sweet girl? you were so good don’t you think… cumming all on your own?” his breath fanned against your neck — again you writhed in place — desperate to feel him. “please touch me… just a little bit.” you could feel his fingers tangling with the hem of your shorts and diving into your panties where he met your cunt. he prodded at your entrance which was looking with arousal before plunging a finger into your silklike gummy walls.

“don’t get so impatient y/n.” he remained stern — even if he wanted nothing than to give you everything you were asking. your pussy clenched and fluttered around his fingers before he pulled them out flipping you over onto your back. “w-what’re you doing? aren’t you going to…” “remember what I said? ‘going to tongue fuck you mama — then I’ll give you what you want.” he smiled through his hazy eyes that were lazily covered by his hair and he sunk further into the couch. his lips met your clit in a swift motion almost instantly latching on before swiping his tongue across your slit. “mark!” exclaiming your hands flew to his head whilst your fingers gently tugged at his scalp. your plushy thighs sandwiched his head as your squirmed on top of the cushions — still sensitive from your previous orgasm. mark hummed in response and as the vibrations traveled through your cunt you swore you caught a chill — because here you were again coming undone. except this time it was all over his face. make smiles against your heat still sticky and messy as it was drenched in your own arousal. “feeling sensitive baby?” mark cold swiping his thumb over your pulsing clit. “shit.. yes!” you replied eyes still glued shut. “you tasted so sweet baby. ‘can’t wait to feel you around me cock.”

part two if this does well 🎀 I’ve been debating whether or not to post this but I feel like she’s ready for the world 🫶🏽 also if you couldn’t tell I still fucking hate commas 😍

#lil-ma-shae #nct smut #mark lee smut #mark smut #nct 127 smut #nct hard thoughts #nct hard hours #mark lee hard hours #mark lee hard thoughts #nct dream smut #nct dream hard hours #nct dream hard thoughts

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tsaomengde · 2 months

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The Villeneuve Dune(s) can be broadly interpreted as one of the two possible futures Paul sees in the original novel

Spoilers below for Dune Part Two. (And for the original novel, but that's been out since the 60s.)

He had seen two main branchings along the way ahead--in one he confronted an evil old Baron and said: "Hello, Grandfather." The thought of that path and what lay along it sickened him.

The other path held long patches of grey obscurity except for peaks of violence. He had seen a warrior religion there, a fire spreading across the universe with the Atreides green and black banner waving at the head of fanatic legions drunk on spice liquor. Gurney Halleck and a few others of his father's men--a pitiful few--were among them, all marked by the hawk symbol from the shrine of his father's skull.

"I can't go that way," he muttered. "That's what the old witches of your schools really want."

Obviously the Doylist explanation for why there are differences in the new films is that the original book is 60+ years old and has certain elements no longer in cultural vogue that were adapted out or altered to better fit modern sensibilities, and I'm all for that. But I did find it interesting that there is an explicit moment at the end of Part 2 where Paul confronts the Baron, utters the "Hello, Grandfather," line, and kills him.

This isn't necessarily because there is any one choice that Paul makes throughout the course of the two movies that leads here instead of to the jihad. In point of fact, most of the changes that drive him here are caused by choices made in the adaptations of the films.

The causal chain that leads to Paul undertaking the spice agony is his failure to predict the attack on Sietch Tabr, rather than his failure to predict Gurney's attack on Jessica; this is, of course, necessitated by the omission of the Harkonnen scheme in part 1 to impair Thufir's Mentat efficiency and potentially drive a wedge between Leto and Jessica by framing Jessica as the traitor. The final push that causes him to make the decision is, of course, the vision he experiences of an alternate future in which he didn't have to kill Jamis, with Jamis counseling him to climb as high as possible before the hunt so he can see as far as possible. (In other words, he ignores Stilgar's advice of not listening to the djinn.)

Similarly, his killing of the Baron is necessitated by the adaptational choice to keep Alia as a fetus so the audience doesn't have to deal with a two-year-old talking like an adult and killing the Baron, which they probably did because it would have been distracting.

However, I might argue that a Watsonian explanation for the film omitting the two-year time-jump lies specifically with Paul's decision to explicitly disavow the prophecy when Jessica undergoes the spice agony, and to explain to the Fremen that her survival is because of her Bene Gesserit training. He then attempts to secure his position with the Fremen through secular deeds, rather than letting Jessica carve a place for them with the BG prophesy.

This disagreement between the two of them causes her in turn to take a more active approach in cultivating Paul's status as Lisan al-Gaib, which accelerates the timeline of the Fremen being ready to submit to him. In turn, Paul focusing more strongly on guerrilla war against the Harkonnens accelerates the timeline of Feyd-Rautha being put in charge of Arrakis and cracking down hard in the north, leading to the aforementioned crisis point of Sietch Tabr being attacked without Paul's foreknowledge.

Notably, while we do see the shrine of Leto's skull in the film, we only see it in a vision; there is no moment in the movie where Paul explicitly finds his father's remains and enshrines them. Hence, going from a strict interpretation of the film's "text," this is not the future in which the legions are marked by the shrine, because the shrine doesn't exist. It is the other future. The compression of time means that Paul and Chani's relationship is much newer and more fragile and doesn't survive the strain of his apotheosis, and that's what sickens him most.

Of course, the "Hello, Grandfather" path also leads to the jihad, because Paul's tragedy is that his very existence was always going to lead to it, regardless of what he chose to do.

And Paul saw how futile were any efforts of his to change any smallest bit of this. He had thought to oppose the jihad within himself, but the jihad would be. His legions would rage out from Arrakis even without him. They needed only the legend he already had become. He had shown them the way, given them mastery even over the Guild which must have the spice to exist.

Obviously none of this passes explicit, close scrutiny, and is more of a fun "if you squint and look at it a certain way it kind of makes sense." I expect that the line was put in as a nod to the original book, no more or less, but making up head-canons like this is fun for me and if even one other person finds it edifying then I consider sharing it time well spent!

#dune #dune part two #headcanon #analysis #paul atreides #lady jessica #chani #chani kynes #dune part two spoilers

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0luv9 · 1 month

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forlorn || mattheo riddle

Summary: based on this request.

Beware: angst, fluff, slightly aged-up characters, Hufflepuff reader, sweet reader, she/her pronouns used, mostly in second person, jealousy, mistreatment, a little bit of blood, slightly commanding(?) and intimidating Mattheo.

Words: 7.8k (not beta read)

Note: I am sorry luv, I don't think I did justice to the request. I also apologize for taking so long. I still hope you like it, even if it's just a bit. @cat-loves-music

Mattheo Riddle, son of Voldemort, or Tom Riddle if you will—for a more humane approach. But then, there's no humanity in the way he's treated. Always an outsider, always a monster.

There is wealth to his name; after all, he is the only living heir of Salazar Slytherin. However, his blood is corrupt, shunned by the very people who kissed the steps his baby feet took. Looked down on by the blood supremacists and not accepted by the other side, the "good side."

Even he was tired of the same sob story. He doesn't even need to introduce himself; they already have a preconceived image of him in their minds. He could try to fix his image in an ideal world, but even then, what would he say?

'Hello, everyone, I'm Mattheo Riddle, son of the man who once threatened your lives. Please welcome me with warm hands.'

Too cliché? Yes, but it's true and the only truth he knew.

Riddle didn't even know why the name Riddle was cursed and didn't know what his father did that made everyone's hate transcend generations. What made their hatred justified and his hate a crime? He didn't know until it was too late.

Mattheo was raised by the only living relative of his, his mother's aunt—the one who died recently. The one who kept all this hidden away from him hid all the Hogwarts' letters, raised him like her own, and protected him until her last breath. She loved him but all within the vicinity of the manor. He didn't know the world that existed beyond those walls.

He knew about the world outside only through the books she'd let him read. He thought it would feel liberating to step off the lavish floors onto the rich earth. It was everything but that.

"But Nona, why can't I go outside?" he remembers asking that silly question when he was about nine. What he wouldn't do to get that naivety back.

"Because, my dear, there are people out there who wouldn't like you. There are bad people outside ready to punish you," he also remembers crying when she told him that. He didn't understand why people would hate him. He just wanted to try the chocolate frogs he read about.

He just wanted to talk to all the different animals out there, the same way he could talk to the garden snakes.

"But I didn't do anything wrong, Nona. Tell them that I'm a good boy. I can even give them some of my toys. Will they like me then?" If only it were that easy. His Nona cried for the first time in front of him then, looking at all the toys he had set onto her lap, looking at her with teary eyes, pleading, "I didn't do anything wrong, Nona, I promise."

Mattheo didn't understand her tears back then, but now as he stands all alone, those same tears fall out his eyes. It's useless. "They'll know that someday, moon pie. You aren't wrong. They'll know." They'll know? What a fucking joke.

Mattheo tries to enjoy the view in front of him, you know. But how can he? When his batchmates are out there partying and enjoying life, he's been a lone wolf all his life. Yet in moments like this, he seems to forget his old ways of existing.

There's not much he can do anyway; he's not needed anywhere. In fact, they all want him gone. Finding beauty in small things is hard when misery clings to him. There's self-loathing in the way he thinks about the night and himself. There's nothing positive he can say.

You'd think that he must've gotten used to it all by now. No, he hasn't; it only got worse. At least little Mattheo held hope that people would understand someday or the other. Every bit of hope was destroyed by the very people who would've feared him had his father been alive. In moments like this, he wished he could see the man, live as the son they paint him as.

He'd have someone to lean onto then, someone to call his own. At least his father would've loved him. But this last bit of consolidation too was stolen away from him when he got to know that he was a backup plan for his father. Mattheo Riddle was not supposed to exist. His father wanted to live on forever; he was the last option the so-called Dark Lord had, to produce an heir and have them further his cause, and control his life as Tom lived on his last lifeline.

But all of it died with him. Mattheo promised himself that he would never be the man they all expected him to be, the man they wanted to point fingers at. So, he stayed in line. But then he thinks, sometimes, maybe, what if—you know?

He simply stares up at the brightly lit sky, it's a shame that he's the only one out there to appreciate the scenic beauty because he's physically and mentally incapable of appreciating anything, you can't blame him now, can you?

Cold breeze in mid-August, how fucking ridiculous just like this life of his, so unlike his peers, who were out there partying and having the time of their lives, the music vibrating through the walls was like salt on wounds. He'd like to drink a few and chat with his friends but then again, he hasn't got any. And it's the bitter truth that he's not welcome there, he'd be greeted with nasty looks if he tried to enter any such party, they'd all glance his way like the ominous thing he is. It's times like this when he really contemplates it.

Mattheo looks down from the height he's on, no one would care anyway, the fall will kill him, might just give it an actual try unlike those previous attempts- he's been a coward all his life, never ready to face the extremes of life but he has nothing to protect at the moment, he's come far too long, life was never going to be worth it.

He climbs over the railing onto the brick ledge, sitting down for a moment, to take it all in for the last time ever. Mattheo remembers all the whispers that followed him, the suspicious looks passed along the way, those words of disdain- at the same time the thoughts of a happy life enter his mind, it all feels unattainable, in fact, he's so far gone he can't even picture joy, all he sees is bright colours when he thinks of a happy life.

Mattheo had desperately sought relief all his life, but the pain only worsened with time, it's only reasonable to want to end this feeling of hopelessness. The weight of his family's legacy feels heavy on his shoulders. He slouches over and looks down once again, sighing as his eyes shift to the ring on his finger, the other Gaunt ring, he slowly removes it- a pathetic heir he is, he doesn't deserve it, couldn't live up to the name, disappointing both sides of the world.

Maybe they should have destroyed this along with his father's ring but apparently, his dear sweet Nona thought he could change their fate, change the course of history, change the Gaunt legacy for the better, fuck- he couldn't even try and change people's perception about him. Even in this sense, he's nothing like his predecessors, incapable of leaving a mark, of changing the world, be it for the better or the worse. He's just fucking worthless- he fiddles with the ring as he shifts a bit closer to the edge, ready to let go of it.

"Nice ring," he turns around startled, "Mattheo, isn't it?" not Riddle? He hadn't heard his own name in a long time, no one had directly addressed him in years let alone called him by his first name. It all feels foreign, he simply nods not knowing what to say. "Do you mind if I join you?" you don't wait for a response though and carefully bend and climb through the gaps between the two rails, settling down beside him. "Hi, I'm-" he doesn't hear it, he's too focused on your face, you were dolled up, for the party he thinks, but then why are you here of all places? Was this some kind of prank? He steals a glance back at the entrance and the seemingly empty hallway, to see if anyone is waiting for a reaction.

"You know you shouldn't sit so close to the edge, you might fall down," you grab his forearm urging him to move back, your hand feels warm on his skin, it feels unnatural, his hands are always cold. Even though it's on him for a couple of seconds he can't help the multiple emotions going on about in his mind and before he can sort them out, his mouth decides to act on its own, "Why aren't you at the party?" "Oh-" you look disappointed, and he apologises right away, not wanting to upset the only person who had the decency to talk to him, "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked," he's quick to defend himself, it's a natural response after all but you only seemed amused, "No, it quite alright, I was just surprised by your voice-" "Is it that bad?" "Gosh no! It's just not what I expected, quite rough, it's nice," you are quick to shut him up, "And about your question, I am annoyed at my friends forcing me to try more drinks and all, I just came up here to relax."

"I can leave if you'd like," you add on as an afterthought, but you really didn't want to go, it was the only place with some peace, unlike the loud corridors and dorms, where you were mad at your friends and were in no mood for a party. "No, it's quite alright, I was just surprised," he tries to lighten the mood, repeating your words jokingly, it works, you laugh and properly look at him instead of the waters ahead.

"Haha so funny," you say in a monotonous voice, trying to act like you didn't just laugh but you can't contain your smile, and he finds it quite beautiful. You look down at the ring between the two of you, "it's a beautiful ring I must say," You compliment it again since he hadn't acknowledged it before. Mattheo thanked you quietly trying to think of a response that might not make you run away from him.

It's been only a few minutes and you've said more nice things to him than he has ever heard in his whole life, it's quite ridiculous when he thinks about it, seemingly you find it quite easy to compliment him. He stays quiet not knowing how to take a compliment, but you don't let the silence continue, you look around trying to find something to talk about and soon enough you start talking and he's glad, "You know about those plants right there?" you point to the shrubs at some distance from the castle walls. Mattheo shakes his head unable to recall if he had seen them before. "It's alright but now that you know, you have something to look forward to this upcoming month!" you smile yet again, cheerful that you have something to share.

"What's special about them?" "It's not the plant itself but the fireflies that live there!" Mattheo tries hard to keep up with your energy and pace, "Why aren't they out now? They aren't migratory, are they?" "That's what makes it special unlike fireflies that are present throughout the summer, these ones light up only for the last week of August," "I'll look forward to it," "You should! I missed it last year and then everyone thought I was lying when I mentioned it." Mattheo frowns, "No one knows about them? Not even the professors?" "The professors would know but it wasn't that serious that I'd take it up to them," Mattheo finds it difficult to relate, he always would let everyone know that he was in the right if the facts favour him because no way in hell would he let anyone see him in the wrong light, he couldn't bear to be in the wrong.

And it slips out his mouth, "I would've argued till they knew I was right," "I don't like arguing though, reminds me of my parents, they parted ways because they argued a lot, so I try to avoid it myself," his lips purse trying to think of an appropriate response, "Anyway, you are in Slytherin right?" it wasn't a question, you just knew, "I'm in Hufflepuff, nice to meet you!" you turn towards him and extend your hand with a smile, he can't help but mirror your smile, "Nice to meet you indeed." Your hand feels soft in his, he was finding it hard to let go but you pull your hand back almost instantly- remembering something, "OH right I forgot, do you like chocolates?" Mattheo was quite taken aback by your energetic self, it was infectious, "Of course you do, it's a silly question, I mean who doesn't like chocolate-" you stop midway and fix him with a scrutinising look, "Unless you are some heartless monster-" "Nah I like chocolate alright," "Good good."

You fish through your jacket's pocket and pull out two chocolate bars, "It's muggle chocolate," you place one in his hand, "Muggle? I've never had muggle candy," Mattheo inspects the small sweet in his hand, "You are missing out then!" you chuckle as you take the wrapper off yours, "I'll eat it tomorrow, thank you," He pockets it and looks ahead with a small smile, tonight's beautiful now that he looks at it.

"You are a muggle born then?" Mattheo can't help but want to know more, because how dare his fucking father go after your lot, "Yep, I was surprised you know? To receive the letter, I thought it was some prank but of course, after a few days I realised how real it was, couldn't have been happier, to be away from home." It's funny because all Mattheo wants to do is go back to the gloomy old mansion and here you were saying the opposite, the stark difference between the two of you was obvious to him.

You ramble on and he listens, it's nothing but enjoyable to listen to mundane stories being narrated with such interest, he finds himself smiling a bit too much, to the point where his face hurts but he doesn't care because you are quite the lovely company to be around.

Muggle-born, the same year as him, Hufflepuff, living with your mom- it's not the best back home he gathers that much. You were angry at your friends and were going to hold a grudge if they didn't apologise. He learned a lot about you in that one hour and learned a few things about him as well, he didn't know he had jokes like that OR you were just too kind to laugh at his bad quips, whatever it was he was grateful because you didn't make him feel bad or like a burden. Mattheo was glad that you were the talkative one and that you didn't expect him to share anything if he wasn't comfortable, also the fact that he didn't want to send you running away by talking more about himself.

He admires the fond smile you wear when you talk, the stars reflect a bit too brightly in your eyes, and he inhales breathing in your scent, it's surreal, the moment. Mattheo didn't quite think properly until you left, wishing him a good night, "it was nice spending time with you, Mattheo!" He wonders if you knew how much it meant to him.

...

He finds out your name the next day and sees you everywhere, it's annoying because he was tired since he couldn't sleep thinking all night about you and now he has to see your face again. Now that he knows you, he can't seem to avoid you, earlier it was easy to be blind but now, everything else seems like a blind spot but you. Or maybe it's that his head is not hanging low, avoiding looking up at people.

Mattheo got over the irritation rather quickly, discreetly looking at you, eyes following every movement of yours. But you don't look at him once, he was just like any other guy to you, the realisation both hurts and feels nice, knowing that you don't demonise him but also the fact that he's no one special either. And maybe, he can live with that.

He notices the large number of people you keep around, you are never alone, always surrounded by a group and you are always the one talking, you are clearly popular. How had he not noticed you before? But then again he knew no one in the school apart from the professors, he never tried to get to know anyone because of course his fate wouldn't allow that.

Mattheo seeks out the solace of the library to keep you out of his mind for a while but the plan doesn't seem to work when he finds the chocolate you gave him in his bag. He simply sighs, knowing that there is no escape, unwarps the sweet and pops it into his mouth, shutting his eyes, and recalls your sweet smile. Warmth takes over his body, it feels nice like this, he has to talk to you once again because that can't be the only interaction he has with you, not when it's all he can think about. He breathes out slowly, staring down at the wrapper and mindlessly reading the information on the back, his jaw tightens as he realizes his stupid pathetic feelings. Mattheo puts the wrapper in his quill case and tries to study with a head full of you.

...

Okay, now it was really starting to bother him, he practically couldn't keep his eyes off you, it's like a spell had charmed him in. He wasn't even trying to be discreet at this point, he downright stared at you from a distance, it was creepy, he was aware of that but he couldn't bring himself to give a damn. Mattheo doesn't like this new feeling you've instilled in him, it's sweet and it's fucking uncomfortable. He finds it extremely difficult to get rid of you from his thoughts, so he gives up on trying and lets his mind go on autopilot.

The way you talked to him without any judgement in your eyes that day, the images of you repeated over and over again in his mind. Even when he sees you with someone else he can't help but think you are in front of him telling him a story, with those animated expressions of yours, but then seconds later he comes to his senses and sees the smile that's not directed at him, the one you gave to everyone, him too. He thinks it was your pity, that made you talk to him. He didn't feel like he was burdening you then but now when he thinks of approaching you, he knows he'd be burdening you. Your life looks no different, every day is full of joy, and you aren't smiling any less.

Why would you talk to him of all people? Perhaps, you only talked to him that day because you needed a change of scenery and not because you wanted to, he's wrong in thinking that but he's also deluded. It's the only way he keeps himself at peace, to not see meaning in your words, to not long for your company.

But he's a Riddle after all, some things just run in your blood, he has his eyes set on you and he finds it difficult to look away. New dream of his, and he'd like to have it, no matter how unattainable it feels. Yet he hasn't got a clue, it's all too new, and he doesn't know what to do, he'd like to have a plan but what would the plan even say? Go and talk to her? Yeah, like he's about to embarrass himself in front of her.

...

Your eyes stretch at the sight of him sitting in the library, alone but not in some deserted corner, he had claimed the whole couch in the centre of the room, sitting right in the middle, reading a book leaning back, a frown on his face. He looked intimidating, and to be honest, you were scared of him, the little beer in you that night had given you the courage to approach him, maybe your fate was too kind to let you find him that night but now your nerves were on fire.

It was no secret to you that he had been staring at you the past couple of weeks, but you couldn't understand the look on his face, his jaw was always clenched, eyes narrowed, and not a hint of emotion on his face. Was he mad at you? Was he the planning on-

No. You didn't like to think about it, you didn't want him to be the man they paint him as, he's just a boy, your age, maybe that's another reason why you hadn't approached him. Staying away because you were scared that they'd be right, you'd rather delve into what ifs than actually be heartbroken, your imagination brought you bliss.

But would it really be your mind if it would let you just forget it? You think and think, getting worked up over every little interaction you've had with him. How could he be evil? He talked to you so nicely the other day, even- even though you were a muggle-born, a mud blood. But when you see how he looks at you, you can't help but feel scared.

It really was an intimidating sight, your courage wore thin but you had made up your mind. You approach him cautiously, as you greet him, you start feeling jittery and flushed, "Hey Mattheo."

Mattheo jerked his head up as he heard your voice, surprised, caught off guard in fact, he didn't trust his words just yet so he simply nodded at you, acknowledging your presence, closing the book and setting it aside, all his attention on you. "I came here to study and noticed you," you look around bashfully before continuing, "I just wanted to ask you if you liked the chocolate I gave you the other day, you know the one with dark brown wrapper-" "Yeah I did," He stops you from rambling on, not that he had any problem with it but you clearly seemed nervous, he just wanted to ease your nerves, "Right so-" you quickly pull out a small pack of the chocolate from your sling bag placing it beside him, straightening up, "I'll go then, enjoy-" you are quick to turn away from him, cursing yourself in your mind, blaming yourself for making things more awkward than they already were.

Mattheo stops you in your tracks as he calls you by your name, you turn around, and he speaks in that cold voice of his, "You said you were here to study right?" you nod timidly, clutching onto the straps of your bag, he leans back and with a flick of his wrist, a table and chair are summoned in front of him, "then study," he motions to the chair opposite of him.

You were quite taken aback, you stood there for a bit before actually registering his words, and you quietly sat down, you didn't have it in you to disobey him, he was Mattheo Riddle for fucks sake, he looked and sounded like someone who doesn't take no for an answer.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched you carefully sit down, looking down, not meeting his gaze, he couldn't believe it, you obliged his wishes? Mattheo leaned back fully, arms folding as he watched you, brown eyes capturing each detail, amusement crawled over his face as he watched you pull out multiple books all at once, various colourful stationery items sprawled out all over the table. You looked pretty like this, stray strands of hair framing your face, lips pursed in concentration. He knew how creepy he was being, so he opened his book again and tried to read but he simply couldn't not when you were sitting in front of him, he relished your presence and this was so unlike the others, every time he had looked at you- you had been surrounded by people, so it was a sight to behold, only for him to admire. So he did, in secret, glancing up at you, every few seconds.

It's been two hours and not once did he get bored of looking at you, a small smile lingered on his face as you closed your books and looked up at him, "How's that book?" you nod towards the book in his hand- the one he was supposed to be reading, "Good, good" he bites the inside of cheek as he lies through his teeth, "Got everything done?" he sets his book aside, fixing you with a soft stare, "Yes, I just wanted to revise a bit, I forget stuff easily if I don't revise regularly," you tilt your head a bit, his eyes were much softer now, and it made your heart flutter a bit, feeling a lot more comfortable than before, so you do what you usually do when you are comfortable- talk.

"By the way, did you study for the upcoming herbology test?" And before he could answer, you pulled out a piece of paper from your bag, "This is like the holy grail, a senior gave it to me last year, it has all the specifics, of recognising plants and how to make generalised guesses about their uses-" you speak in a hushed voice, slightly leaning over the table, eyes wide as you shared your little secret, "you can have it, I have it memorised haha" You bless him with that pretty smile of yours, pushing the paper towards him, you don't let him refuse the offer and start talking about something else, he gives you a small smile, and it makes your insides turn into mush, you bite your lip trying to contain your smile, eyes shy as you start fiddling with your hands on your lap.

You talked for hours, he was much more open this time, and the conversation flowed smoothly between the two of you, it was you who mostly did the talking but he didn't seem to mind he looked more than pleased, he didn't like talking much, it seemed, so you filled in the gaps, made it look so effortless like it was easy talking to him, maybe it was easy for you but to him, it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. You two stopped only when the librarian came in and told you it was curfew time, your eyes widened as you turned to look back at him, an amused smile on your face, both of you got up, walking beside each other, not uttering a word till you were out of the librarian's stern gaze.

"I made you miss dinner-" your eyes widened further as soon as the two of you got out, stepping into the empty hallway, "it's alright, I don't mind," you playfully rolled your eyes at him, he chuckled at your antics, "yeah sure, but your stomach would, but- we can sneak into the kitchens, you know, sneak some food out," you wiggle your eyebrows at him with a sheepish grin on your face, he scoffs in disbelief, a fond smile gracing his face, "something tells me, this isn't your first time sneaking around."

"No, it's not," you chuckle a bit before continuing, "So, are you coming or not?" you purse your lips, looking up at him with doe eyes and he questions your motives right then because there's no way you didn't have a clue about what you were doing, "would be an idiot to say no," he muttered under his breath shaking his head, "I didn't catch that-", "Yes, I am."

You give him a pleased smile, you looked so happy at that moment, he was rooted in his position as you started walking ahead of him, he had to look away to catch his breath, "Merlin" he exhaled, a hand reaching over to his chest to soothe his loud thumping heart, and in that moment he knew he was a goner.

"Mattheo-?" you turned around since you didn't hear him walk with you but soon he rushed to your side the moment you looked back, you gave him another smile as he walked beside you, he looked straight ahead then, you needed to stop doing that because no fucking way- would he be able to let go of you.

You lead him to the kitchen, both of you cautious, well just you- he was having the time of his life, getting a detention would be worth it, just a small price to pay. Mattheo repeatedly stole glances here and there, the moment you entered the kitchen, you grabbed his arm and pulled his painfully slow self in, "gosh- you sure do walk slow," you glare at him, but there's no malice in your eyes, instead they are just amused, you roll your eyes when he just shrugs in response, moving over to the tables. Mattheo just looked at you with fond eyes, he was just trying to buy more time with you by walking slowly and he didn't feel one bit guilty about it, he felt a bit too proud.

You sigh dramatically before returning to him with a small tray in your hands, "I didn't find anything else, apart from these blueberry muffins," your eyes wander around once more trying to see if you missed something, "usually there's still stuff left, that's weird- oh well, at least we have these," you give him a small defeated smile, setting the tray on the table, shrugging as you felt that muffins weren't worth the effort of sneaking around and that you only troubled him further. Mattheo saw through you and he hated that you were feeling that way, "didn't I mention this to you? I love muffins, especially the blueberry ones." he gave you a small smile, picking up the muffin, taking a bite, "yeah, that's good, way better than the dry vegetable and chicken pies they make." He didn't look at you as he said that, but you smiled, realising what he was trying to do, you wanted to cry, why was he being so considerate? You were now beginning to go down a spiral, of all the times you thought of him in the wrong light, how dare you even think like that?

Mattheo caught you staring and it was hard for him to control the heat that rose to his cheeks, he cleared his throat, "What? You don't like these? Well, guess they are all for me-" he teased, taking the tray in his hand and started walking away, "Hey! No-" you rushed after him with an amused smile, "I want one too," and the tray was shoved back into your hands, "better not eat all of them, yeah?" he gave you a small cheeky wink, leaning against the table, finishing the muffin in his hand.

Mattheo offered to walk you back to your dorm, he didn't have to insist much, after all, you wanted to spend time with him too, you easily agreed after a couple of tries. You two walked in comfortable silence, as you neared the Hufflepuff dormitory, you were thinking about how you'd part ways, overthinking about what would be appropriate and in the mix of it, you just gave him an awkward side hug, squeezing his arm a bit before mumbling a quick "goodnight" and rushing in.

He couldn't believe his eyes, were you blushing? No way, he must be imagining things. Mattheo could still feel your warm touch lingering on his side, the scene playing over and over again in his mind, he wanted to scream out of excitement- he was getting cuteness aggression, had to be it, his fists clenched at his side as he stared at the door, for god knows how long, if he could- he would've squeezed you into a bone-crushing hug, but you were quick, left him speechless.

He walked back to the Slytherin dorm without any trouble, he closed the door behind himself and leaned back against it, he was pretty sure his skin was burning with all the warmth that was flowing through his veins. Merlin, he was embarrassing! Mattheo sighed contently, a big smile on his face as he replayed the whole day, your smile-

...

The next few days, you guys didn't talk at all, he was back to staring and this time, when you did catch him in the act, instead of pretending you didn't see him, you gave him a knowing smile and a wave. Lingering looks, and subtle greetings, were sweet, Mattheo was now on a new high, he couldn't get enough. But for some reason, he maintained his distance, he stuck to looking at you from afar, it felt comfortable this way, not wanting to taint your reputation by talking to you in front of others, he'd talk to you if it was only you but you were never alone.

Mattheo starts seeing life for what it is, when he looks at the trees outside, the castle in its entirety, he feels like he is seeing it for the first time. How had he missed this? He finds himself back at the astronomy tower, he looks at the lake ahead, it was a sight to behold, and he is starting to appreciate the view, these days he didn't care about much, you were all he could think about and you were more than pleasant, it was as if the grey lens of his life was replaced with a coloured one, and it would be foolish to credit anyone else but you for it, and he was fucking grateful for it. The reason he was here was, that it was the end of August, and the fireflies you so damn wished to see would be out tonight, he came here just in the hope that he'll get to see you alone.

He was zoning out when some movement near the edge of the lake caught his eye, it was you- with a few of your friends, his smile faltered the moment he saw some blonde Hufflepuff dude pull you to his side, slinging a hand over your shoulder, you all walked towards the shrubs and didn't have to wait long before the fireflies lit up and started raising above the shrubs. He was about to leave, he was mad for some reason, really pissed- but then he took another look at you. You were standing a bit behind your friends, who had all their attention on the flies ahead, you seemed sad, looking down, messing with the soil beneath your shoe, hands in your jacket. Mattheo could make out the pout on your face, the deflated shoulders, you then turned to look right where he was, and he felt his breath catch in his throat.

Your posture straightened immediately, the pretty smile returning to your face as you looked up at the astronomy tower balcony, having spotted him, you waved at him. Mattheo nodded, forearms on the railing as he leaned forward, a smile gracing his features, the anger leaving him. You excitedly pointed at the sky, and he nodded, you turned back around when your friend called you and he couldn't look away, he was staring at you till you left, Mattheo started feeling the warmth creep up to him when he saw you making an effort to steal back glances at him. He felt seen, fucking special-

...

Mattheo still hadn't talked to you, he couldn't catch you alone really, it was starting to get to him, he longed to hear your voice, hear you talk to him- and yet, he didn't have it in him to approach you in front of others, it would ruin you, you thrived in the company of others, he couldn't snatch that away from you. Maybe if he was a bit more selfish, he'd do it, snatch you away from others, have you all to himself but he wasn't about that life, it was something his father would do, he's sure of it, go after what he wants, not caring what others would think-

Mattheo feels like passing out when you deliberately look at him just to give him a shy smile, a flushed look on your face. He walks away because he cannot handle looking at you, the urge is too strong, to just take you into his arms, he walks out to the empty hallway, a hand over his chest- it had become a subconscious habit of his, whenever you gave him that smile, the one that felt like it was just reserved for him, yeah that one, he felt like he was in heaven, you sent his heart rate through the roof when you did that, it borderline hurt him since he couldn't do much to satiate this feeling.

The longing was etched into his eyes when he looked at you, one thing he realised was, that when he had his head up, no one dared to look his way, he was enjoying that power for some reason, it filled his veins with something dark, he liked seeing people look down instead of him looking down, it felt fucking nice, and it felt even better when the only person that did look at him, was you. People averted their eyes when he entered the room, choosing to ignore his presence but the fear was very much evident, so he knew they didn't see him staring at you but at this point, he really couldn't bring himself to make an active effort to look away even if someone noticed.

It was no lie, that Mattheo wasn't up to date with all the gossip and news, he just lived life passively but now that he was out there more, he couldn't help but hear the words that fell onto his ears, Yule Ball, huh. WAIT- ball dance? That meant having a date, who were you going with? Fuck his mind was rambling shit to him, he could not let someone else take you to a fucking dance as their date, no, he wouldn't let that happen. He had to get to you before someone else did, it was nighttime, and tomorrow's the weekend, approaching you will be the first thing he'll do after he wakes up, he has to plan shit out, you know, make it special and heartfelt, you deserved nothing less.

But his heart nearly broke when he overheard two Slytherin guys talking about you. The way one of them talked about you made his blood boil, his jaw clenched tight, nails drawing blood from his palms as they dug into his coarse skin, "I told you not to ask her out, plenty of guys tried and guess what? She rejected them all." the guy who was being talked to only scoffed angrily, "She's a fucking slut, that's what she is, leading people on-" the other boy just stopped him and Mattheo exhaled, a bit relieved because if it wasn't for him, Mattheo would've smacked the guy and pushed him to the fucking wall, "dude, come on, that's not true, all she did was smile at you when you gave her your seat, she's a nice girl," these guys were in the fifth year, he recognised that much, "sure, whatever," the guy walked away to his room, making sure to loudly slam the door behind him.

Mattheo then gets up and walks towards the guy left behind, the one who stood up for you, when he stands in front of him, he sees the dude cower into the seat, Mattheo tries to speak in a polite voice but the anger is still radiating off him, his irritated stare didn't help either, "she doesn't have a date, yeah?" his hands were behind his back, over one another, the blood still fresh, "who-o?" the guy stutters out, looking around for help but no one was there- "You know who," he fixes him with a glare, before uttering your name out loud, "no no, she doesn't, rejected them all." Mattheo then nods at him and leans back, then finally he walks back to his room, allowing the guy to catch his breath.

Mattheo feels relief wash over him as he lets the information sink in, okay good, you didn't have a date but then again, why were you rejecting them all? What if you reject him as well? Yeah, he couldn't handle that wound, he'd fucking die, he contemplates whether he should ask you or not but he's done fucking waiting, waiting for his fate to fuck things over, if things are going to be fucked, he'll be the one to do it.

...

Mattheo puts on a black shirt and black pants, not caring to tuck his shirt in, the cold metal ring stings him as he puts it on, the feeling is grounding, he's doing something his dad would've done and for some reason that doesn't feel half as bad, he feels like himself, it was like something had possessed him, the confidence was unwavering, even as he stepped out into the crowded hallway, hands in his pockets, looking ahead, people parted, giving him space and Merlin, did that feel fucking powerful. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows as he approached the room you'd be in, you always were there on the weekends, with your friends and he didn't think before he stepped into the room, heads turning towards him in shock, even yours but the shock on your face was soon replaced with a smile, quietly waving at him and that right there, fed right into his ego.

He walked over to you in a few quick strides, eyes zeroed in on you, nothing else mattered at that moment, "Can I talk to you?" To say you were surprised would be an understatement, you were ecstatic, you've wanted this for so long, to talk to him in front of others, you never knew if you should because he might've felt uncomfortable, "Yes ofcourse, what is it?" you nod, a smile still on your face, "Alone," his voice was cold, "oh yeah, sure-" you step towards him, thinking he'd lead you somewhere private but he stayed rooted in his place, eyes never leaving yours, he stayed quiet for a bit, taking in your whole self, the bright clothes you were dressed in, the equally bright smile on your face. Then he looked over your head, to the shocked faces of your friends, "Alone." It came out as an order, he couldn't care less.

Mattheo liked this newfound authority, he also relished in the fact that you were being so compliant as if you wanted this to happen and he couldn't be more glad, "Guys, I'll be back, you can go ahead, don't worry," you explained, seeing their hesitance, his unwavering gaze was back on you, brown eyes were intense. The apprehensive group slowly emptied the room and just went the last person was out, Mattheo muttered something under his breath, and the door slammed shut, locking itself.

Mattheo cursed that pretty smile of yours before smiling back, "You have a date? For the ball?" you lowered your eyes to the ground at the question, a shy look grazing your features as you shook your head, the more he looked at you, the more positive he got. "Good." He finally pulled his hands out of his pocket and suddenly there was a bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hand and a velvet box, he wordlessly handed them to you, your eyes were wide, full of amusement, face warm, you noticed how the lights around you got dimmer, the small mock firefly charms that floated in the air, you didn't have a clue on how he was doing all this without his wand but you couldn't bring yourself to think of it, not when you had him standing in front you, in all his glory, about to ask you to the ball, gosh you felt like you were on cloud nine, the guy you were waiting for had actually approached you? You had to be dreaming.

Then out of nowhere, you hear your favourite song but on strings, you look down at the box curiously- "It's the muggle chocolate you were talking about, the one you said was hard to get your hands on," he shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal but in reality, he was finding the courage to finally tell you what he was feeling, ask you out. Your brows pinched together, as you noticed that all of it was a muggle, even the flower arrangement- the song, how did he do all of this? You looked up at him with an amused look. "No questions please," he breathed out like he was out of breath, you then smiled at him gratefully, and he quickly averted his eyes, his hand subconsciously reaching over to his chest, "Oh Merlin," he exhaled quietly, not being able to look back at you.

He then slowly gathered the courage to look back at you, you were just looking at him patiently, the smile still on your face, Mattheo cleared his throat before opening up, "I have never been the one to be graceful but I want to this properly." he inhaled sharply before continuing, "Ever since that night, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, I think I've gone mad honestly," He lets out a dry chuckle shaking his head, looking into your eyes, "I think I've taken a liking to you, your voice, your smile-" and then he interrupts himself, forgetting the little speech he prepared as he watches your smile widen at his words, "yeah that, more of that please," and that makes you blush, the genuine interest in his eyes, the way admiration shines in his eyes, you are so close to him, that you can hear his heart thumping loudly, "I'd like to have the honour of taking you to the ball," then he says your name quietly, "would you like be my date?"

"Yes yes!" you couldn't be more excited, you are quick to throw your arms around him, and all the worries leave his body as soon as he is subjected to your embrace, he closes his eyes, pulling you closer, finding everything comfortable in your grip. His heartstrings thrum at the moment, it was embarrassing how quickly you got him flustered but he didn't seem to mind it. He whispered a small "thank you," before hugging you tighter, you just giggled into his chest and Merlin, did he feel like he had just won the lottery.

...

<<prev work: this love || mattheo riddle

#mattheoxreader #matheo riddle #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle x reader #matheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #oneshot #slytherin

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nisuna · 3 months

Note

Requesting Toji fucking a single mom. That’s it. Ily hope you’re doing good ❤️

Hi Helloooo (Ily toooo), finally some goofy bickering and mindless smut 🥳 enough serious talk for now

Hope you enjoy! (read part 2 here!!)

TW: Pure smut, a lot of bickering, just a one night stand, right? or is it.., oraf (f. receiving), overstimulation, protected sex, a lot of positions, brat taming in a way, manhandling, tit sucking, Toji x single mom!reader, this turned out longer than I expected, 2.5k words

<3masterlist<3

---------------strictly 18+ MDNI-----------------

It was the first time you went out in months and you definitely weren't looking for a hook up. You just wanted to go out and have some fun, now that your kids were staying at their grandparents' for the weekend. So you definitely didn't expect to get hit on by the biggest man you've ever seen. His eyes were almost eating you alive. He even had his hand on your hip, while his thumb was gently swiping over the area. You were definitely enjoying yourself until he finally spoke up.

"First time here, doll?", he asked, full of confidence.

"Huh, doll?", you sounded confused. "Do people really use these nicknames nowadays?", you thought and felt your smile fade as you backed up a bit.

"What's wrong?", he felt his confidence crumble a bit. Usually, girls were eating the nickname right up. You definitely were a handful, but nothing he couldn't handle. Challenge accepted.

"Nothing really, I just haven't been flirted with in a long time and definitely not like that."

"I'll help you ease back into it, no problem.", surely, that had to convince you. However, you weren't playing along at all. You backed up even more.

He was starting to get impatient. Now he had to have you no matter what. "Why are you so difficult? I can show you a real good time. You'll be missin' out big time."

"You know what?", you approached him, "I'm not one of your dumb little girls that swoon at your every action you know", you answered while poking your finger right between his tits (were they bigger than yours?). You'd be lying if you said you weren't taken aback by his sheer mass, but you couldn't give in so easily.

"I know, I know, I haven't had a mature woman in a long time. Why don't you remind me what it's like?", he put his arm around your waist and pulled you flush against his hard chest.

"You yap a lot, you know that."

"Why are you holdin' back so much? I know you want me just as bad, hm?", he took a long whiff against your neck. You had to have nerves of steel not to whimper on the spot. "Pleasee", he fucking pouted at you.

"Shit, fine. But not here.", you finally gave in and he shot you the biggest grin you've ever seen a grown man do while he pulled you to one of the bathrooms.

------

"H-hold on. What are you, a horny teenager?", you panicked as soon as he picked you up and sat you down on one of the sinks.

"I might as well be. I'll do anything to get a taste of that delicious body of yours.", he stared you down and poked his tongue out. Shitty smooth talker.

As soon as he slottet himself between your legs, he began pulling at your dress. One of his hands went down between your legs and started rubbing at the already damp fabric while he licked a thick stripe up your neck.

"Shit", you tried to hold back your moans. He, however, showed no mercy as he began to suck on your neck, working down to your cleavage. As if to test the waters, he grabbed a handfull of your tit only to halt all movements.

"They're real, right?", he asked, almost too excited.

"Yeah, why? Did most of your other dolls have them done?", you fake mocked him before letting out a moan as he pulled his hand from between your legs and onto your chest.

"Yeah, not that I really care. Tits are tits. But yours definitely feel better than the last few I've had."

"Last few? How much does this man fuck?", you couldn't dwell on the thought for long though, because he was already pulling down your dress and latching his hungry mouth onto one of your nipples.

"Slow down ah- what if someone comes in?"

"Don't mind. They're probably too drunk to notice anyway." Thouché.

He was really taking his sweet time playing with your tits, but he must be getting restless as well, because he kept rubbing his hard cock against your, at this point, soaked panties.

"Are we gonna fuck, or are you just gonna dry hump me until you cum in your pants?"

"Better, I'll eat you out."

"Really? You don't seem like the type to just eat a girl out."

"Yeah, I usually just get my dick sucked. But I'm feelin' adventurous today because of you, mama."

"Mama, huh? I guess that's better than doll." You hummed and saw him get on his knees in front of you. Having such a huge man kneel between your legs definitely gave you an ego boost. So you were quick to put your legs over his shoulders and grab a handfull of his dark hair. He, however, didn't make a move and was just looking. Pulling on his hair and squishing his face between your thighs finally made him look up at you.

"Then you better get to work, I won't cum fron you just oogling me."

As soon as the words left your mouth, your panties were pulled to the side and your breath hitched as you felt his hot mouth on you.

"Just you wait", he mumbled between licks, "I told you, I'm gonna make it worth your while."

For having said that he doesn't do this often, he did have good technique. He mostly focused his tongue on your clit, alternating between flattening it and using just the tip. From time to time he even slipped a finger or two in to curl them exactly into your sweet spot. However, it was embarrassing how often he stopped just to breathe in your scent.

He even kept mumbling, "best pussy I ever had" between slurps. Your cheeks were getting hot and your hips started to move against his face. And with your teamwork it didn't take long for you to slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your lewd moans as you came on his tongue. Even after you've calmed down he kept his mouth on you making your legs tremble and toes curl in overstimulation. You had to yank on his hair to finally get him off of you.

When you looked at him, his eyes were blown wide and his chin was glistening with your juices. You didn't look any better, your hair was a mess and your skin was shining with sweat.

After he got back up and pressed himself against you, he asked, "Round two at your place?" Not that you'd ever admit it, but he had you hooked. So, of course, you gave him a nod and he gave you a satisfied grin in return.

-----

As soon as both of you arrived home, he didn't waste any more time and clothes were flying off faster than you had anticipated.

He's never impatient with hookups. Afterall, they're usually the ones that beg him to finally fuck them. But you were far too composed, even squeezing in some snarky remarks here and there. He knew you'd be trouble after your first interaction at the club. You weren't easy and his ego told him that he had to have you no matter what. But he didn't expect you to stay so calm. You had him practically begging to finally get inside of you. Finally a worth opponent, huh? He didn't even argue when you told him he had to wear a condom.

When he finally had you where he had wanted you all night, naked and in bed, he smirked and ripped the condom wrapper with his teeth.

"I gotta be the biggest one you've ever had.", he boasted while rolling the condom on.

"Don't flatter yourself", you lied. Any virgin would be shaking in her boots at this sight. You haven't had any action in a long time, but you are definitely no virgin. Surely you could take it, right?

"I'll make sure you'll never forget my dick. You'll want to come back for more. Not that you can have it again, anyway. No offence, commitment just isn't my thing. One night stands is where I shine. So, don't catch feelings alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, you yap way too much. Just shut up and give it to me.", was the last thing you said before pulling him into the first kiss of the night.

He was a little taken aback by your sudden boldness. He's not a big kisser, but this feels quite nice. So it didn't take long for him to compose himself and slowly press into you.

You overestimated yourself a bit, as the first stretch felt like you were about to rip in half, especially once he bottomed out the first time. But mama didn't raise no quitter, so you took it like a champ and dug your nails into his back instead of whining about it. However, some tears did manage to make their way into your eyes and you fully expected a snarky comment to come your way, but to your surprise, he leaned down to kiss them away.

You could cut the tension with a knife as you both just looked at each other. To lighten the mood you playfully hit his chest and chuckled. "Wow, didn't know you could be such a gentleman. But enough now", you put your arms around his neck and pulled him close. "Fuck me till I pass out", you purred into his ear.

After that, he finally snapped out of his trance and went to pound town. The first few thrusts almost knocked the wind out of your lungs, but once you got used to them, you felt extra daring.

"That all you got?", you challenged.

He didn't react at first, but he was determined to shut you up. He looked strong, but you were still taken aback when he pulled you up with him as he knelt down on the bed. One arm was behind him supporting his weight and the other was grabbing a handfull of your ass. He smirked at your shocked expression and you couldn't contain your voice when he started to pound into you from below.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned down, pressing your lips against his. You were trying your hardest to muffle the embarassing moans that just kept spilling out of your mouth at his every move. He felt his ego rejuvenate at your obedience, which is why he started to kiss you back with much more enthusiasm than before.

"Feels good, right? Nobody's ever fucked you this good, huh?", he mumbled against your lips. You frantically shook your head, going right back to kissing him. It felt overwhealming at first, but you found your composure soon enough. He was trying his hardest to tame you, increasing his speed and spanking your ass between thrusts. But even that didn't shut you up so he finally snapped.

"You've been running that mouth of yours the whole night. Don't you think it's about time you finally shut up and take it. Just lay there and look pretty."

You cracked a smile and whispered, "make me."

Now he's had it with you. Before you could react, he pulled out of you and turned you on your tummy.

And before you could make another snarky remark, he pushed back into you and pulled your back flush against his chest. He's holding you up with one arm while sticking his thick fingers in your mouth. You felt drool drip out of your mouth and your eyes roll back at the new angle.

For the first time tonight, you were truly speechless and his ego grew incredibly more as he started to pound into you.

"Good girl, fucking finally."

You instinctively started sucking on his fingers at the praise. Is this what they call brat taming? It's actually quite nice being manhandled like that.

After a while he pulled his fingers out of your mouth and went straight between your legs. You let out the most obscene mewl, throwing your head back on his shoulder as soon as his fingers started to rub tight circles in your throbbing clit.

"Cumming on my cock will feel much better. I can promise you that."

And god, he didn't lie because the orgasm in the bathroom doesn't compare to what you're feeling right now. He had your back arching in his tight hold and you felt yourself go limp as he just used you. It didn't take long for him to reach his limit as well and he came with a low groan and bite to your shoulder.

He barely caught you after he let go and you almost fell face first on your bed from exhaustion. This fuck has definitely been worth your while.

You two didn't speak much after that as you went to clean up in the bathroom. This was it, right? It's kind of a shame that you were never going to see him again. It was nice having some company, but oh well.

"See yourself out once you've finished alright?", was the last thing you said before lying down.

"Sure."

Usually, that would be it, right? That's his thing, just a quick fuck and then dip. But oddly enough today, that just didn't feel right. It's been a long time since a woman made him sweat so much. Girls in their early twenties truly didn't compare to you. So when he saw you just laying there so peacefully he felt an urge to stay longer.

"I'll just leave as soon as I wake up. One night won't hurt."

You were already fast asleep when he snuggled up to your side. So much for not catching feelings, huh?

---------

When you woke up, it was with his heavy arm draped over your waist. You rubbed your eyes and tried to sit up, but no chance with the tight grip he had on you. So you opted for shaking him.

"What are you still doing here? I thought you said you only do one night stands.", you questioned. With a groan he finally gave you room to turn around and face him.

"Answer me now.", you poked and pulled on his cheek.

"Just leave me be. Your bed's way comfier than mine and it smells nice, too." In his sleep drunken state, he nuzzled his face against yours. He was nothing like the man you got to know yesterday. He was kind of cute, actually. So you just sighed and didn't resist his hugs.

"Want to stay till breakfast?" Nod. You didn't expect this outcome, but oddly enough, it wasn't an unwelcome one. You missed sharing a bed with someone anyway, so where's the harm in trying it out with him. You're gonna enjoy this for as long as it lasts. Who knows what'll happen.

---------

Tell me what you think!! xoxo

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theemporium · 3 months

Note

jealous max and/or jealous trouble!!!

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

You were barely gone a few minutes before someone took your seat.

It wasn’t often you attended these events, mostly due to the fact it wasn’t often that Max liked to actually accept the invitation for them. But this one was mandatory and Christian had made it clear that he expected Max to make an appearance, and even dragged you into it too before Max tried to use Auggie as a scapegoat out of the event.

So, against his better judgement, Max dusted off the same suit he wore to these events and splurged a stupid amount on a dress for you because, “if I have to attend this stupid event, at least give me something pretty to stare at, Trouble”.

You had been sat in the seat beside him the whole night, trying your hardest to not laugh at the snarky comments he was whispering in your ear about other guests. You happily sat off to the side as a multitude of guests approached him because he was Max Verstappen and he was one of the most desired men in the room.

You had squeezed his knee and muttered about going to the bathroom whilst he was finishing up a conversation with Christian and a potential sponsor, thinking nothing of it.

Except when you returned, some leggy model was in your seat.

From the way Max was talking enthusiastically and moving his hands in wild motions, you knew he was talking about racing. You knew she had probably used it as a way to get into conversation with him. A part of you wanted to snort if she thought that was going anywhere when Max could talk to a brick wall about racing with how passionate he was.

And bless his heart, Max didn’t notice her ulterior motives. He didn’t think anything of someone discussing racing with him. He didn’t notice the way she laughed a little too hard or kept flicking her hair over her shoulder or the way her hand kept inching closer and closer to his on the table.

You had no reason to doubt Max, but it didn’t stop a bitter feeling bubbling in your stomach—an urge to remind her that Max wasn’t interested.

You made your way back towards the table with a sense of purpose in your stride. You didn’t even say anything as you reached the table, not even bothering to say a word to the model as you planted yourself on Max’s lap with an ease that came from being in a familiar position.

Max didn’t even hesitate as his arms wound around your waist, as he shifted his legs so it would be more comfortable for you. But the model thought otherwise.

“Uh, excuse me?” She said with a strained smile as she glanced between you and Max.

“Sorry, my seat was taken,” you stated simply, your gaze not shifting away from hers as she squirmed a little in his seat.

Max laughed a little, seemingly to finally catch on with the situation. “I’m not complaining,” he said with a cheeky grin.

The model didn’t say much more after that, running off soon after with some shitty excuse and her tail between her legs. You watched her with narrowed eyes, making sure she returned to whatever table she had come from before your attention shifted back to your boyfriend.

However, his grip on your waist only tightened before you could move off as he looked up at you with an amused expression on his face.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” he noted, sounding utterly pleased.

“She’s lucky she didn’t touch you or I would have to break her fingers,” you replied with a simple shrug.

Max snorted. “You’d end up in jail then, Trouble.”

“And you’d bail me out,” you retorted with an innocent smile.

“Of course I would,” he murmured before leaning up to press a quick, chaste kiss on your lips that would be deemed appropriate at an event like this—even if you were still sat on his lap. “You happen to look pretty good in orange though.”

#max verstappen #formula one #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fic #max verstappen one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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hina-hina · 1 year

Note

Hi can i request a ghost x too pure for this world slash civillian reader . where reader is the total opposite of ghost like they too kind and soft and ghost met them whole reader was working in a local bookshop and they both just fall head over heels for each other 😭💗💗

Hiiii, this was such a cute request! I love the opposites attract relationships so much and imagining THE big, scary Ghost with this very sweet and kind reader is so fun!! Kinda got carried away with it, but I hope you like it!! Thank you for requesting!! (❤ ω ❤)

|| Ghost with a Soft Partner ||

Warnings: soft and flustered Ghost (^///^)

It's not often when Ghost gets to take a break from his work, but when he does it's never for very long

So, when he does get a break, he spends it doing the few things he actually likes about civilian lives

And, surprisingly, one of those things is reading

So, whenever he's in town, he likes to pick up a few books to take back to base with him

So he pulls on the most discreet civvies he owns, a black hoodie, mask, and beanie. (Because you can't very well go about in town with a skull mask without getting unwanted stares)

He doesn't like how much his hulking form sticks out in the cozy bookstore but he goes anyway

However, he immediately regrets it after he sees the confusing way the store has the books organized

Apparently noticing his confusion, you would approach to help him

He is immediately taken aback by your soft-spoken voice and demeanor as you ask if he needs help

Would take a minute to respond and not notice he's just staring at you

When he notices you starting to get nervous under his intense gaze he would immediately look away and clear his throat

"I'm lookin' for your mystery books..."

"Oh! Yes, the sorting method can get a little confusing. Just follow me!"

He is once again taken aback by your helpful attitude

It's not often people are so nice to him

You bring him to the right section and are about to leave him alone when he suddenly asks;

"Any recommendations?"

He doesn't know why he asks but he knows that he's comforted by your presence

So, the two of you talk and he ends up buying more than one of your recommendations

But eventually you have to go back to work and he has to go back home

However you find yourself stuck thinking about the large, intimidating man with a love for mystery books and he finds himself in a similar position.

So he finds himself coming back to the bookstore again

and again

He finds talking with you to be like a fresh breath of air

It makes him forget about Ghost for a while and feel like Simon again

Eventually he gets up the courage to ask you out on a date against his better judgement

So, you end up going on a date to this cutesy cafe even though he feels totally out of place because he knows you would love it

He eventually opens up about his job but tells you the bare minimum, just that he's just a military soldier is the SAS

Your shocked and slightly worried because that work is dangerous but upon reflection you know he can handle himself

He walks you home and the end of the night and when you lean in to kiss him, he pulls back

When you look at him with a hurt expression, he continues;

"Listen... I don't understand how I feel about you but I do know you deserve a hell of a lot more than me. If we do this, I have to know your sure. My work is... Dangerous. I don't want to hurt you."

You smile, "Let me worry about what I think I deserve, Simon."

You place your hands on the sides of his mask and he pauses, large hands coming up to engulf your wrists as he nods

You pull his mask down and lean up as you kiss

Eventually, he has to return to base and is worried on how the distance will affect your relationship

You reassure him though with your soft smile and tell him you'll be waiting for him to get back

He feels his heart clench with a soft affection he hadn't felt in a long time

While he's going through his things, he opens one of the books you had recommended to him only to find you had tucked a few secretly taken polaroids inside

He keeps one tucked in his breast pocket and another pinned to the wall in his room on base

While he's gone, the two of you share video calls and you send him letters

He's always so touched by the time you put into the letters and he loves knowing your still doing fine without him there

He would be SUPER protective of you

When the other guys on the 141 task force find out he has a partner, they argue over what kind of person he would look for in a partner

When he finally shows them a picture, they are all shocked because just from the picture they can tell your complete opposites

You send him care packages with books you think he would like and homemade sweets

The other guys would always ask for some but he would refuse because you made them for him

He would be reluctant to tell you about his past because he doesn't want to "corrupt" you

You tell him he's being dumb and reassure him that, when he's ready to talk, you'll be there

Would still have feelings of inadacity because he's a cold-hearted killer and your so painfully good

You reassure him that his work helps tons of people and that your proud of him

He enjoys having you read to him while he rests his head in your lap

He's definitely touch starved so he gets very flustered when you get touchy with him

He loves it tho

I can also see him sending you books, trinkets, and rocks he finds while on deployment

You keep each one he sends and display them

Prefers to spend dates indoors quietly

Would 100% fantasize about marrying you

Would encourage you to be a little less kind when people at work are mean to you or too pushy because he doesn't like the idea of not being able to defend you himself

All and all, you would just be really fluffy and cute, a much needed softness to balance out his cold demeanor

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ironmandeficiency · 10 months

Text

the fellowship + romance

characters included: aragorn, boromir, gimli, legolas, pippin

word count: 1177

summary: just some soft shit bc these men are all sappier than any tree in the greenwood

a/n: there’s still an overwhelming lack of gimli content that needs to be fixed and i will do my part

aragorn 🗡️

aragorn’s quiet presence is the warmest blanket on a cold night, the first bite of a meal you slaved over for hours, every comfort you’ve ever experienced

he’s never been one for overwhelming displays of his affections; instead, he shows you in simple ways that add up - giving you the more full bowls of broth, laying his blanket over you if he notices you shivering during night watch, sharpening your weapons (this one had gimli nearly brought to tears by the devotion it spoke of), anything that helps your days pass easier

he grew up around stories of elves who committed astounding feats in the name of those they loved, fighting wars and risking their lives with alarming frequency. but none of them ever talked about the everyday ways they showed love. his mother taught him what she could about those things, stories of his father’s steady presence and stalwart love for his family. a young aragorn took these lessons to heart and used them when the time was right

it was why, when he caught his heart skipping beats around you, he let his actions do the speaking for him. without fail you would thank him with a soft smile, slowly coming to realize that aragorn felt something much deeper for you than camaraderie. when you woke up early one morning to find your weapons sharper than they were the day before (not for the first time), you went straight to aragorn and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. he nearly dropped your bowl of stew in his flustered state

having your affections secured didn’t mean he stopped his small acts of kindness, it did quite the opposite. it just made him bolder and more confident in his actions

boromir 🍻

this man is so damn tactile it’s ridiculous

if you’re the cuddly type like he is, it makes him all the more eager to always have some form of physical contact with you, no matter where you may be

unless you tell him to back off, he is always touching you one way or another. a gentle hand on the small of your back, your pinkies interlocked, an arm wrapped around your shoulder, anything to keep you close to him

his favorite time of day eventually becomes the end of it, because that’s when he can hold you close and whisper soft words of love in your ear while he holds you. he makes it his goal to give you a goodnight kiss every night you spend together

the best cuddle position in his mind is you leaning your back against his chest, one of his hands resting on your hip where his thumb rubs small circles above the bone, and his chin resting on your shoulder just right to where he can turn his head to kiss your cheek or burrow his face into your neck

gimli 🛡️

valiantly is the best way to describe how gimli approaches any situation he comes upon, including (and especially) matters of the heart

this is a dwarf who says what he means & means what he says, who does nothing that he wouldn’t be proud of the next day. because of this, you couldn’t find it in you to not believe him when he professed his love for you with such unwavering confidence you were nearly brought to tears. gimli never said anything just because his lips could move so you simply had to believe him

will do you favors big and small simply because he wants to help you however possible. you can’t remember the last time you carried your own pack or made your own bowl of soup. if you encouraged him (which you wouldn’t), this romantic fool would not let you lift another finger for as long as you both live

he grew up watching his parents with keen eyes, his adad showing him by example how a true dwarf treats their one. he embodies these lessons with every interaction with you, striving to be the one you deserve him to be. it ranges from the ferocity of his protection to opening doors for you. may mahal strike him down if he ever hurts you

he just wants to be a dwarf you’re proud to love, proud to call yours

legolas 🏹

physical affection can be difficult for him, but one thing legolas is good at doing is speaking his mind and his heart

if you thought his regular speaking pattern was overflowing with poetic descriptors, you’ve heard nothing compared to when he’s being truly romantic. no one you’d been with before had ever described you with such beautiful prose, never whispered soft poetry about your eyes to lull you to sleep

and he’s a cheeky bastard about it too! it’ll be a regular conversation between friends, nothing important, then BAM! he’s making quippy one-liners about your overwhelming skill/beauty/personality that catch you off guard and has your friends cackling at your flustered reaction to his flattery

even better, his praise will often include sindarin and on the off chance you don’t speak it, you’ll have to gauge the meaning from the silent looks shared between your dear elf and aragorn (doesn’t really work). eventually legolas tells you what some of them mean; after all, he needs to have an element of intrigue about him or his name isn’t legolas thranduillion

he carries a lot of pride for you and will brag about you to anyone who listens, his melleth being one of unparalleled skill and beauty and bright laughter that carries his soul on great wings

pippin 🥕

his already strong need to be silly and foolish grows exponentially when he finds out how happy it makes you

pip doesn’t care what it is you ask of him, he will do anything to hear your laugh. he’ll put baby carrots in his nostrils, respond to conversations exclusively in farm animal noises, he will even do his spot-on impressions of the rest of the fellowship and make them say all sorts of silly things

the best one to date is him doing an aragorn impression that consists of all the different ways he says legolas’s name

you’ve never heard such astounding colloquialisms from anyone until you met pippin - “don’t eat half the berries and say the pie shell’s too big,” “his cornbread isn’t done in the middle,” “if brains were leather, he wouldn't have enough to saddle a junebug” - and each time he says one, there’s always a not-so-subtle look to you so he can see your reaction. the ones that get the most laughs are used a little bit more, just enough to not lose their appeal but enough to hear your laughter all the more often

there is a single-minded determination to hear your snort when you laugh at something he says, and he will not rest until you do. his personal goal to do this resets each time you do actually snort, him now aiming for the next joke or prank that will bring it out again

#gimli x reader #legolas x reader #aragorn x reader #boromir x reader #pippin took x reader #lotr x reader #lord of the rings imagine #lotr imagine #lord of the rings fanfic #lotr fanfic #lord of the rings reader insert #lotr reader insert #aragorn imagine #boromir imagine #gimli imagine #pippin took imagine #legolas imagine

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captainfern · 11 months

Note

hear me out 🫵🤠✋ what about a Price one-shot where Price takes the readers virginity because that’s what the reader wants and the reader squirts all over his fingers and he wants to see more of that.

idk, it’s something i’ve been thinking about for a while since I saw smth about TF-141 nsfw canons or smth where the reader squirts so yeah. 🥹🙌

About A Girl

Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“About A Girl” by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - price takes your virginity lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 1.8k • warnings - fem!reader, virgin!reader, fingering, unprotected piv, uh a bit of 💦, praise, price whimpers a lot in this i just realised lmao, strong language

✿ *rubs hands together* hearing you out?? love, i’m all ears. me rn:👂👁️👅👁️👂

this starts really abruptly lol. no soft launch for this porn 😔☝️

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“I want you to take my virginity.”

Those seven words… you’re pretty sure changed your life forever.

You said that twenty minutes ago. Now, you were lying across Price’s bed, your clothes stripped completely from your body as Price, his shirt missing but pants still on, worked a thick finger into you.

“Shh, shh, I know, darling,” Price shushed you, dragging his finger in and out of your cunt. “You’re doing so well for me. Being so good.”

You breathed deeply, the sting inside you soothing as he stroked your inner walls. You were tight around the single digit, sucking it in with lewd noises that made your stomach flip in embarrassment.

After a moment, you felt the stretch increase as he pushed another finger into your dripping cunt. You writhed against his bed, arching your back with a moan. He was placing kisses along your belly and thighs as he pushed two fingers in and out.

“There you go, that’s it,” Price whispered, watching his fingers moving inside you. “Such a good girl. Let this pretty cunt take another one. Just two, darling.”

His pace increased. You moaned, pleasure overriding the discomfort. You panted, skin shining with perspiration as Price’s two fingers thrusted into you. They were stretching out the tight heat of you, slamming against that gummy spot within that had you jerking your hips to meet the movement of his hand.

“Price…” You whispered a moan of his name, and it made him groan from his position near your legs.

He humped against the bed momentarily, trying to alleviate the pressure built stiffly in his cargo pants. He stopped, huffing deep breaths, continuing to thrust his fingers in and out of your sopping hole.

“So good for me,” Price whispered, nipping at the plush skin of your hip. “Can… can you take another one?”

You know it’ll hurt like a bitch, but you still nodded anyway. Much to Price’s delight: who moaned, deep and rich, and it made your cunt pulse around his fingers.

“Fuck, such a good girl, love. My good girl, my pretty girl,” Price said, his praise distracting you as he added a third finger. You choked on a whimper, feeling so full. “Gotta stretch you out, nice and good. Gotta make sure my cock is gonna fit in this pretty cunt, darling.” Price whispered, watching his three fingers plunge in and out of you.

You could feel yourself dripping; arousal pooling down the bare curve of your arse, smearing across the soft skin of your inner thighs. You were so wet for him, for Price. And he loved it; loved the way droplets rolled across his wrists, how his entire hand was slick and wet. His cock ached painfully in his cargos.

You’d masturbated before, so the appearance of a tight spiral in your lower belly was not strange. However, something felt different. It was approaching fast, your cunt fluttering and pulsing around his three fingers. Your moans were becoming more desperate, more whiney as you hurtled towards the edge.

Price maintained rhythm, fucking his fingers into you and making you squirm.

“So good,” Price practically whimpered, watching you, eyes raking down your naked form. “So good for me. Such a good, wet cunt. Bloody dripping.”

“Price, fuck—” You moaned, his fingers not missing a beat, drawing continuous wet sounds from your cunt. Your arousal was excessive, to say the least.

Price hummed. “Gonna cum, darling? Go on, then. Wanna feel you squeeze my fingers, nice and good. Cum all over my fingers, pretty girl.”

The spiral inside of you snapped.

And when you came with a moan and a shiver and a jolt of your legs, you also felt wet.

A gush of your arousal flooded out around his fingers, a small amount squirting out onto his chest. He halted the movements of his fingers, shocked at the way small droplets of your milky arousal splattered across his bare torso.

You panted, sitting up on your elbows and looking at him, eyes widening as you took in the sight of his drenched arm and sparkling-wet chest. You felt your face burn as he met your gaze, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.

“Bloody hell…” Price looked at you, groaning beneath his breath as he clambered off the bed.

You were so fucking embarrassed— your cunt was still pulsing and you could feel how wet you were. How wet the sheets beneath you were. You wanted to cry out of sheer humiliation, before the sound of Price’s cargos hitting the floor got your attention.

Price crawled back onto the bed, hovering over you. His hard cock pressed to your bare thigh, and you whimpered as you dropped onto your back once more.

“Price…” You mumbled, embarrassment coursing through you as you tried to cover your face with your arms.

He stopped you, placing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Don’t hide from me.”

“That was so fucking embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?” Price queried as the warm head of his cock settled between your plush thighs. “How?”

Your breath hitched at the feeling of his cockhead pressing against your sopping folds. “I… I— oh my god— made such a mess.”

Price hummed a chuckle. “Love, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I’ve never done that before. I didn’t know—”

Price shushed you with a deep kiss, licking into your mouth. You hummed, fingers wrapping in his hair as his tongue drew pitched moans from the back of your throat.

Pulling apart, connected by a thin line of saliva for just a second, Price stared down at you, cock still nestled between your thighs, touching your core gently.

“Nothing to be embarrassed of,” Price assured you. “Matter’a fact, I wanna see you do it again.”

He grabbed the base of his cock, running it up and down your soaked slit. You trembled beneath him, breathing deeply, your body burning up.

“Want you to make even more mess,” Price whispered. “Want you to make a mess all over my cock, okay, pretty girl?”

You nodded frantically, suddenly no longer embarrassed.

In your defense, your captain was about to fuck you, and your brain was completely focused on that.

Price took a deep breath as he settled his cock at your entrance, rubbing and squeezing the flesh of your thighs supportively.

“You sure about this?”

“Yes, oh my— just, please, Price.”

“Okay, okay,” He shook his head, bemused. “But… but if it hurts, I’ll stop, understand?”

“Understood.” You really sounded like a soldier then.

With a shuddered exhale, Price gently pushed into you, cock breaching your dripping entrance and inching inside. You mewled loudly, arching your back and skimming your nails down the broad expanse of Price’s shoulders. Your eyes screwed shut as Price pushed in, inch by inch. A stinging pain, sharp and pressured, ebbed somewhere inside of you— but it didn’t last. After a moment, Price was nestled deep inside you, and the pain was subsiding as he moved his hand to stroke your tingling clit.

Price stilled himself, breathing heavy. He made a couple of low noises beneath his breath, quiet grunts, before he placed kisses across your face.

“Perfect, prefect girl,” he whispered, kissing your lips. “Taking it so well. Being such a good girl, all for me, eh?”

He sucked a bruise to your jaw as he slowly pulled out and then pushed in at the same slow speed. You writhed beneath him, pain gone as pleasure overtook. His cock slid against your slick gummy walls and it made you call out— call out his name, his rank.

“That’s it, good girl. Such a good cunt. So wet ‘n so… fucking… tight,” Price gritted, pace picking up. “My pretty girl… who’s making you feel good?”

You whined at him, praise soaking you even more. You let your hands flex over the strong muscles of his shoulder blades.

“You, Price—!” You moaned just as he pulled out and slammed right back in.

“That’s right,” Price growled, hips meeting yours as he began fucking you into the mattress. “Thats fucking right, love. S’me making you feel good, yeah? S’me making you squirt and make a mess.”

You began to feel another orgasm build within the confines of your abdomen. You were arching off the bed, breasts rubbing against his chest. You scraped your nails down his back, anchoring yourself to him as he continued to fuck his cock in and out of you. Each pull dragged ragged noises from your mouth, which he took the time to capture in his own mouth, kissing you hard.

That same hot feeling was overtaking you, cunt spasming around his cock and pressure building somewhere inside you. It was making you whine, stars bursting behind your eyelids as you screwed them shut.

“Uh-uh, darling, open those pretty eyes,” Price breathed, voice strained. “Wanna… huh, fuck— wanna see you when you cum ‘round my cock.”

You forced your eyes open, meeting his, just as the pressure inside you came to a crescendo.

“Make a mess, please, come on.” Price whimpered, desperate, as he slammed into you.

You did.

When you came with an airy, fucked-out moan of his name, you felt that same wet rush— a pleasurable warmth squirting from you for the second time that night, splattering his lower abdomen, drenching his cock and pelvis.

Price moaned.

“F-fuck, thaaat’s it. Good girl, darling.” He uttered, breathing out more moans as he continued his movements.

He shifted his gaze from your face, to where your cunt was drooling around him, making obscene squelching noises that filled the room alongside the slapping of skin, his grunting moans, and your overstimulated whimpers.

“I know, pretty girl, I know, almost there,” Price kissed your face as you whimpered, clinging to him. “Such a tight, wet cunt. Not gonna— fucking Christ— not gonna last.”

And he didn’t last.

With a guttural groan, he pulled out and came across your tummy. He pumped himself through it, and you watched as he titled his head back, groaning through gritted teeth. After a few moments, he leaned forward slightly, whimpering as he tugged at himself, the last few drops of his spend hitting your navel.

He then collapsed onto you, and you giggled when he lay his entire body atop yours. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, placing hot kisses to the skin while you wrapped your arms around him, breathing him in.

“You alright?” He asked you, muffled against your shoulder.

You laughed. “I’m good. That… that was good.”

He laughed into your shoulder too. “It was.”

A few beats passed before he begrudgingly dragged himself off of you. He kneeled beside you on the bed, running a finger down your stomach and smearing his seed across your skin.

“You made a right mess, didn’t you, love?” Price whispered, nodding at the mixture of yours and his cum splattered across the bedsheets. Not to mention the amount on both you and him.

“S’your fault.” You said simply.

He smiled. He couldn’t argue with that.

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#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #captain john price #captain price #captain price smut #fem reader #price x reader #captain john price x female reader #captain john price x you #captain’snirvana

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