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#i know you said favorite but i just LOVE them both
munsonsfairy · 15 hours
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I have an ideaaa
how about a Paige x fem!reader wedding/proposal fic or headcanon??
the idea of her draft fit as a wedding outfit omfg 🤭
🪞🏹🕯️🌿 MY PEACE • PAIGE BUECKERS
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omg i love this idea!!! i did wedding headcanons if that’s okay!! <3
content: fem reader & no physical description of reader or their wedding outfit
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౨ৎ the night before, you and paige spend it by cuddling into each other while sitting on the balcony that overlooks the city.
“my wife, my wife, mine,” she whispers against your neck after every kiss. “not for another day, babe,” you’ve been reminding her since she proposed.
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౨ৎ it takes her 20 minutes to leave your townhouse that night. lots of goodbye kisses have already happened that it took kk & ice to drag her ass out.
“bye my beautiful gorgeous wife!” paige yells out the window as ice drives away. she doesn’t get into the car until you are out of her sight.
౨ৎ instead of reading your vows in front of your wedding guests, the both of you decided to do it before the ceremony. as you walked towards paige, you could see her wavy blonde hair with her front pieces in braids (as always). she was wearing an all white suit. you could tell she was nervous and excited by how much she was fidgeting.
“paige?” when she turned around her blue eyes already had tears in them. she looked at you in awe and almost fell to her knees. “we can’t cry we both have make up on,” you fan both of your both eyes trying to hold it all in.
she laid her head on yours and looked into your eyes. for a moment it felt like it was only the two of you in that garden. “we’re finally doing it. my wife,” you see a tear fall from her eye as she leans in to kiss you.
౨ৎ now the vows!!!!!! 🥹
paige reached into her pocket and took out a folded piece of paper. you could see her shaking, so you squeezed her hand to remind her it’s just you.
she smiled at you and took a deep breath, “ever since i could remember, i was always told, “you’ll know when they’re the one,” and i never understood that. i never felt complete until i saw you. when our eyes met, i knew after 3 seconds that you were the one. i’m blessed with the pleasure to know someone like you.” she looked up at you and saw you tearing up. “bro if you cry, i’ll cry,” she said laughing. “okay okay! no more crying.”
she took another shaky breath, “to be able to love and be loved by you. you are my sunrise and sunset filled with the most beautiful colors. you’re my peace with the world is too loud. your love is my turning page. you are the strongest person i know and i admire to be my best self everyday. i never doubted our love and will always consider myself lucky to love and learn from you. these past four years have been my favorite movie. i promise to love every single detail of you for the rest of my life.”
after you said your vows, paige was walking up to kiss you until you stopped her. “not until we say i do!” she looked at you with shock but kissed your knuckles on both hands. she leaned her forehead on yours once more. “see you at the alter,” then watched as you walked back to the venue’s house.
she didn’t want to take her eyes off of you. just wanted to stand there and admire you.
౨ৎ during the dance, you reserved chick-fil-a as a surprise for paige. she ran to you and grabbed your face to kiss you all over. her and kk were fighting over who was going to be the first to be served. spoiler alert: you got served first since they were too busy bickering. when you were eating your nuggets, paige noticed you had ranch on the corner of your mouth and kissed it off of you.
౨ৎ once your reception was over and almost all of your wedding guests have left, you and paige danced one last dance. your heels were long gone and paige was very tipsy. she held you so close to her chest that you could hear her heartbeat. you felt the breeze against your skin and closed
your eyes. paige was slowly guiding you in a circle while humming the song.
she kisses your head and said, “my wife.”
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tagging: @urantisocialgay because i know you’ve been asking for this (:
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ophelisstuff · 2 days
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hi lovely ! could you maybe do a paige x singer :)
HOME REMEDY | P.B x Reader
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authors note : this one’s rlllly short but enjoy!
requested by : anon
word count : 531
summary : when Paige falls sick, she counts on her favorite home remedy to ease the pain.
warnings : mentions of sickness
You stood in the kitchen, monitoring the pot boiling on the stovetop. The contents being the ingredients to the soup Paige loved to eat when under the weather.
The blonde had fallen victim to a case of strep throat that had been spreading all throughout campus for weeks. Coming home a few days ago and complaining about how horrible she felt.
She had spent the past few days sulking in bed, being kept company by you, the television and her phone.
Complaining about how much practice she was missing and how she needed to get better as soon as possible. She even found herself resorting to home remedies — which barely worked.
The only bright side to the situation was the fact that Paige could hear you sing. Which created a wave of calmness for her whenever you used your voice.
Throughout the few days she had been home, Paige had asked you to sing for her — back to back. Never growing tired of the soft melody in her ear — distracting her from the discomfort of their throat.
You sighed as the familiar sound of footsteps trailed down the hallway, ready to scold Paige for getting out of bed again because she was supposed to be resting.
“Paige, you’re supposed to be in bed resting honey” You said, turning around to face the girl who was rummaging the kitchen cabinets for snacks she wasn’t supposed to have.
“Well, it’s not my fault my throat hurts” She shrugged, searching for any snack that caught her eye.
“Well, if you stayed in bed and actually took the medicine it wouldn’t”
The blonde groaned as you spoke, knowing you were right but not wanting to admit it.
“The medicine tastes like chemicals! And besides, I found a new home remedy that’s guaranteed to work.”
Covering the pot with it’s designated lid, you turned around to look at Paige with an eyebrow raised in amusement. “Another one? wouldn’t it be simpler to take the medication.”
“I’ll start taking it after this home remedy” Paige swore, a smile on her face as she looked at you.
“And what home remedy is it that’s guaranteed to cure your strep throat?” You asked, ready to hear some nonsense she’d found on tiktok.
“Studies show that hearing other people sing can help cure strep throat. Preferably when you’re laying down with the person and singing to them.”
Paige lied, knowing that you both knew that was an excuse to get you back in bed and cuddled up with her.
“And where did you find this home remedy from?” You asked, biting back a smile as you shook your head.
“Don’t worry about it babe. Just know it’s from a trusted Doctor.”
Turning the stove off, you took the medicine out of the cabinet and turned the face Paige. Knowing you could never tell the girl who owned your heart no, especially when she was under the weather like this.
“i’ll be there in a few minutes, go lay down”
And with that Paige darted out of the kitchen and into the shared bedroom. Ready to fall asleep in your arms, listening to the calmness of your voice.
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winterrrnight · 3 days
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bsf!Rafe who for once gets jealous and annoyed, and it's reader's time to remind him he's still reader's favorite boy
I adore your mind anon 😭😭 jealousy is such a pretty color on rafe <3 this is fr my favourite pairing to write for at the moment so I’m literally always and forever willing to discuss thoughts on them!! <3
bsf!rafe who gets sad jealous when he sees some other guy flirt with you… <3 listen to babydoll by ari abdul, cause rafe calls reader babydoll hehe <3 cw: suggestive content (no actual smut): intimacy, tension and neck kissing, rafe gets jealous, minimal swearing, rafe calls reader babydoll once, reader is a no bullshit taking kind of person, alcohol consumption <3 for @chenslucy (I love love love you heaps anna 💚)
part of this little universe <3
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you didn’t even mean to, it just happened.
he cornered you at the bar when all you wanted was to get some beer for you and rafe, and said things like he’s been looking at you since you came inside the party mansion, and thought you’re the prettiest person he’s ever laid his eyes on. you knew it’s all the alcohol in his system talking; he wasn’t even all up in your face yet you could smell the alcohol on his breath.
it took you quite some time to tear away from the conversation; after a lot of convincing from your side that you were not into him, even when he kept on flattering you more and more. you finally escaped the conversation, letting out a deep sigh as you hold two cups of beer in your hand, the next task being to find rafe in the huge crowds.
little did you know, you were under the microscopic vision of rafe. he was in a corner of the party, watching you with his hawk like eyes as the guy talked with you. he couldn’t hear a thing, but from what he saw from the distance, you were being flirted with, and he wasn’t sure you were trying to avoid him or were enjoying it.
he contemplated coming over to break the conversation off, but decided against it. he didn’t know why, but he decided to just watch it all play out, and to see how you react. but what was not helping was his burning jealousy. how can some other man talk to you that way, and even think of making you his?
with a lot of struggle, you found your way through the crowds and finally spotted rafe. you could see he’s slumped in a corner, a scowl on his face. “here you go,” you said, holding out his cup as you took a sip from your own cup. rafe didn’t even look at you, just took the cup from your hand and gulped down most of the beer in one go.
“geez calm down,” you said, furrowing your brows a bit as you watched him down his drink too quick. he still didn’t look at you, and only finished off the drink in another sip. he tossed the empty plastic cup somewhere aside on the floor, and you watched it roll off and get crunched under someone’s foot.
you looked back up to see rafe’s jaw tightened, the scowl had not left him and his eyes were narrow. he was looking anywhere but at you.
“what’s up with you?” you asked, taking a sip from your drink and peering at him from over the rim of the cup.
“nothin’,” he mumbled incoherently under his breath, still not making any sort of eye contact with you. his eyes roamed around the party almost nervously, as if examining each detail and fixing it in his mind.
you rolled your eyes at his answer. “that’s not gonna cut it, come on, out with it. what’s up?”
he grumbled something incoherently again, but this time, you were not having it at all. the lack of eye contact, the bare minimum words; you had enough.
you took hold of his wrist and practically dragged him out of the party mansion, maneuvering through the sweaty crowd of young adults. rafe got caught off guard at first, but didn’t fight and he followed your lead. you led him outside where it was much more quiet, the music a blur and maybe a person or two hanging out, but it was more or less quite silent. you both were right besides the pool, and you sat down, pulling him with you too.
“what’s wrong? speak up, now, because I’m not having that mumbling nonsense you’ve been doing,” you said, your voice a bit cold as you took a sip of your drink.
you could see rafe looking at the water in the pool, the reflections of the calm water dancing across his handsome face.
“jus’ didn’t like you flirting with that dude, ’s all,” he muttered.
you furrowed your brows at him, almost confused as to what he was referring to but catching up quickly. “I wasn’t flirting with him, he was flirting with me. and being quite forward about it too,”
“yeah but you were smiling and laughing, don’t think I didn’t catch that,” he muttered again, his gaze not leaving the pool water.
“cause I was tryna let him down easy! I didn’t want to come off extremely rude,” you said.
rafe didn’t say anything or looked up from the water. you let out a sigh at the sight and kept your cup aside, scooting closer to him.
“look at me rafe,” you mumbled, your breath dancing across his ear. he slowly turned his head, his blue eyes meeting yours under the reflections of the water; the reflections a subtle green due to the dark green tiles at the bottom of the pool.
“I don’t care about that random dude, at all,” you murmured. “I never would, okay? fuck, I didn’t even catch his name, and frankly, I’m not interested in knowing his name,”
you could see his eyes softening. the moonlight along with the green water reflections lightened his eyes to an electric blue instead of the warm blue you usually saw him with.
“yeah?” he whispered, his brain suddenly registering how close you were to him.
“mhm,” you hum, your hand coming up to rest at the side of his neck as you gently rubbed the skin with your thumb.
you could see rafe’s eyes fluttering when he felt you starting to apply some pressure at the side of his neck, almost as if the sensation was sparking the feeling of pleasure in his veins.
“why would I do that when… I’ve got you?” you whispered, your hand coming off his neck for a moment but quickly replaced by your lips, a gentle kiss delivered under the whites of the moon and the greens of the pool.
rafe let out a soft sigh at the feeling, his head involuntarily tilting back as his hands slipped around your shoulders, holding onto you for stability when your kisses became more repetitive, yet were slow and lingered on his skin for a moment each time.
“you’re my favorite boy, always and forever, and don’t you ever forget that yeah?” you whispered, your lips parting from his neck for a second before attaching themselves back again, the same slow speed carried by you.
you could feel rafe’s nails dig into your shoulders through the fabric of your clothing, and that only prompted you to kiss him even more.
as your lips trailed up to his ear to gently press behind the delicate skin of his ear, rafe’s lips parted to let out the softest gasp, his body only craving that sensation on every inch of his skin.
“oh…” he gasped softly, tightening his hold on your shoulders.
“oh babydoll...”
— —
I think bsf!rafe’s nickname for reader would totally be babydoll, might include that more in the rest of the fics for them :p ANYWAYS I love them so so much and I would love to have any requests you may have for them ahhhh
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mssainz · 11 hours
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PART 7 | AFTER FIVE YEARS
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader
Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.
Warning: Nothing just wholesome
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Cael is excitedly showing Carlos his toy car collection. “I have this Volkswagen Golf GTS from Uncle Danny. And this is my Ferrari Sf90 Stradale that Mama bought me on my birthday,” Cael said, presenting his toys to his father. “You have some really impressive cars, my love. Which one is your favorite?” Carlos asked, gently stroking Cael's hair.
Quickly, Cael rummages through his bag to find his favorite car. “This one, Papa. I have many favorites. But recently, mine’s this LaFerrari. Uncle Charles gave it to me when he won a podium.” Carlos smiled at the way he pronounced LaFerrari, with an emphasis on the 'r' sound. “Wow, you also have a LaFerrari? What do you like about it?” Carlos asked, pleased that Cael was so assertive and easy to converse with.
“It's incredibly fast, Papa. And Uncle Charles said it uses electric hybrid power. I don't really know what that means, but 'hybrid' plus 'power' sounds cool to me,” Cael replied, causing Carlos to chuckle at his innocence.
From the doorway, you've been watching your boys talk about cars. They've been inseparable since the afternoon. Clearing your throat to catch their attention, you ask, “It's already time for dinner. What do you want to eat?”
Carlos turned to Cael, “Baby, what do you want to eat?”
“Anything delicious, Papa. Something without pistachios,” Cael responded, causing Carlos to laugh as he recalled Cael's reaction to pistachio ice cream. “Okay, anything delicious without pistachio coming right up,” Carlos said, lifting Cael, who giggled in response.
“Let me cook for you two,” Carlos suggested as he passed you, heading for the kitchen. “Okay. Thanks, I guess,” you replied, following them downstairs.
In the kitchen, Carlos handed Cael back to you and began to prepare the meal. “Your fridge is well-stocked for someone just on vacation here,” he commented. “Does Cael have any food allergies?” he asked you.
“No, luckily he doesn’t have any food allergies,” you replied.
“Not even strawberries?” Carlos asked, aware of your own allergy.
“No, he is not allergic to strawberries,” you confirmed.
While Carlos cooked, you and Cael played at the counter. Carlos would occasionally glance over, smiling at the domestic scene.
“Why am I getting so many kisses from you, Sebastian Cael?” you asked, amused by your son's affectionate nature.
“You did nothing, Mama. I just love you,” he replied.
“Can I get kisses too?” Carlos interjected, also wanting some affection.
“Of course, Papa,” Cael said, giving him a peck on the cheek. “I love you, Mama. I love you, Papa,” he added, hugging both of you.
You enjoyed the hug but felt uncomfortable with the close proximity to Carlos. As you were about to point out the food spilling from the pot, Carlos noticed and rushed to the stove, causing both you and Cael to laugh.
After dinner, you took care of the dishes while the boys continued their playtime until well past 10 pm.
"Carlos, I think it's time for you to go. It's already past ten, and Cael needs to sleep. You should get some rest too," you said. Carlos looked at you, surprised at how time had flown.
"No, Mama," Cael instantly clung to Carlos when he heard talk of bedtime. "Baby, it's already past your bedtime. You need rest. Papa needs to rest too," you tried to convince your son.
Carlos attempted to gently remove Cael’s hand from his neck. "Papa, no! Don't leave, Papa," Cael protested, starting to cry. Tears blurred your vision as you felt a pang of sympathy for him. Carlos returned your gaze, his own eyes brimming with tears.
"Papa, please stay," Cael begged. Carlos comforted his son, trying to explain the situation. "Oh baby, as much as I want to stay, Papa has to go to prepare for the upcoming race," Carlos told the still sobbing Cael.
“Aww baby,” Carlos said, wiping away his tears. You approached them, gently rubbing Cael's back. “Cael, look at Papa. I have to go tonight, but I promise I'll fetch you on Sunday and take you to the paddock to watch me race. I'll even let you ride in Papa’s Formula 1 car. Is that okay, my love?” Carlos proposed, hoping to appease his son.
Cael, still sniffing and sobbing, managed to nod. “Stop crying, baby. Papa has already agreed to let you watch his race. We'll go to the paddock, okay? You'll watch him race in the Ferrari garage, honey,” you added.
Slowly calming down, Cael agreed to come with you. “Bye, Papa. Drive safely,” he said, kissing Carlos goodbye. “Thank you, baby. Papa will see you on Sunday, okay? Be a good boy for Mama, hmm?” Carlos said, ruffling his son's hair. Cael gave a small nod in response.
“Thanks, Y/N,” Carlos said to you, receiving a nod and a smile in return. “Drive home safely, Carlos,” you reminded him before walking him to his car with your son. Carlos kissed Cael on the cheek and, without thinking, kissed your temple before entering the car. You didn't have time to react as you were holding Cael, but your cheeks flushed at the unexpected gesture.
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Carlos arrived home, grinning as he headed to his room. He couldn't shake off his smile; the upcoming practice race didn't even cross his mind. He was merely thrilled about the day he had spent with you and Cael. Unexpectedly, he found his father standing in the corner of his room.
"Dios Mio, Papa, what are you doing there?" Carlos asked, startled.
His father replied with a raised eyebrow, "You've been humming and smiling like a teenager since you got here, Carlos. What's going on?"
Carlos continued to smile at his father, responding, "Nothing, Papa. I'm just happy."
His father squinted at him, pressing for an answer. "Are you drunk or on drugs?"
"No, Papa, I'm completely sober. I'm not on drugs either. Something really special just happened today," Carlos began.
His father interjected, "Did you sign a new contract?"
"That would be nice, Papa. But something even more special happened," Carlos said, pausing for effect. "I met my son!"
His father put his hand on his forehead, "You're on drugs. I'm sure of it."
"Papa, no. I'm telling the truth," Carlos said, showing him his phone wallpaper. It was a picture of you and Cael, smiling at each other in the kitchen.
"Wait, is that Y/N? You and Y/n have a son? When did you get back together?" his father asked, forehead furrowed in confusion.
"We're not together yet, Papa. But, we do have a son and today, I finally introduced myself to our son and spent time with him," Carlos explained.
"So you're telling me I have a grandson?" his father asked for confirmation.
"Yes, Papa. His name is Sebastian Cael Sainz. But, please don't tell Mama yet. I want to tell her myself, or maybe even surprise her with Cael," Carlos requested.
"Well, I can't tell her now. She's already asleep," his father replied. Carlos chuckled at this.
"So when can I meet our little Sainz?" his father asked.
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Carlos' Wallpaper
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AN: I was also sobbing while writing the part where Carlos has to go home. I hope you like this part. Let me know your thoughts or if you wanna be added to the taglist. Thank y'all!
TAGLIST:
@seasonswinter @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @celesteablack @timmychalametsstuff @viennakarma @i-love-ptv @evie-119 @somepeoplemaybe @amberpanda99 @gotthatname @karlossainz @khaylin27 @hc-dutch @avengers-assemble123456 @likedbygaslyy @xoscar03 @yukiotadako @barcelonaloverf1life @heyheyheyggg @sunny44 @mxdi0 @casperlikej @ironmaiden1313 @biitch-with-wifi @elia-the-bibliophile @nataliazzzz @bernelflo @lillunna @loloekie @jinimon-tr @glai1023-blog @not-nyasa @jolixtreesunn @changetyre @thatsusbitch @distancedss @miarabanana @voidsfics @jasminesacademia @glow-ish @ccallistata @carpediem241108 @thearchieves @kenzeyeballs @formula1simp @dessxoxsworld @hoeforsirius @norwayxo
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getologist · 3 days
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synopsis: you liked olives while suguru was the opposite.
a/n: the olive theory has been rotting my brain and thought it would fit much better to suguru :')
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suguru looked down at his food quietly after the waiter served the plates on the table. you two were in a restaurant where he made a reservation for the both of you.
you noticed him getting quiet, usually whenever you two were on a date, suguru would spout many things like he had countless thoughts running in his mind to talk with you. however, he didn’t say anything for awhile ever since the food was served.
“what’s wrong?” you called him in a careful tone, holding his hand on the table to reassure him.
suguru looked up from his plate to you, guilt washing him like a whiplash when he noticed your worried expression.
he smiled a little and shook his head, picking up the fork to move the olives away on his food, “i… don’t really like olives. well, not that i hate it—i just don’t like it. and it’s really rude to not finish all of this.”
you tilted your head to the side, slowly absorbing what suguru was saying. he didn’t like olives. of course, many people don’t like olives. but people have different taste buds, and thankfully, you like them.
“i’ll eat them for you,” you rest your chin on your knuckles, “if you don’t mind.”
the two of you stared at each other in the midst of a crowded place, sitting beside the glass window with a candle on the side of the table—the light reflecting on your faces as the both of you drowned in each other’s eyes. the food was still steaming hot—you didn’t like eating foods that were newly cooked, and you knew suguru could handle those in one go.
the noise of people talking around the place didn’t work for the both of you to break each other’s gaze, it was like you two have your own little world. you didn’t know what to call it, what was happening between you, but you liked it. you liked this feeling creeping up into your bones—adoration and love.
“you really like olives, huh?” suguru grinned, “alright, you can take them.”
and just like that, the moment you beamed at him, smiling from ear to ear with a chuckle, your eyes shining as the light of the candle reflected with your orbs—his world stopped for a moment. damn, your smile always makes him forget to breathe. he hated it just as much as he loved it.
and the way the both of you stared at each other, it felt like it was the beginning of the world. amidst the rowdy place, the only thing you two can hear was each other—though no one was saying a word.
“are you allergic to olives?” you asked, twisting the pasta with your fork while staring at him.
suguru hoisted his fork with pasta in it to his mouth, the olives were now cannot be found on his plate.
truth is: suguru always liked olives just the same as you. ever since he was young, suguru would always asked his mom to put olives whenever she would cook his favorite pasta, or else, the young suguru would throw tantrums if he didn’t see any olives in it. he couldn’t eat pasta without olives until he grew older—not until he met you.
it was like a part of him changed, a big part of him when he learned that you also liked olives. suguru never told you that he also liked them, he kept it to himself until now.
“i’m not allergic to those, i just don’t like the texture and taste of it.” it was like a poison to his tongue when he said that. nonetheless, suguru always wanted to see you satisfied.
of course, suguru will always be suguru. and he would always pretend disliking olives just to give them to you and see you happy.
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sadnymi · 2 days
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「 ✦ My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys. ✦ 」
[Mattheo riddle × reader] [TTPD Masterlist]
Summary: Mattheo's breakup leaves you heartbroken, shattered, you know his true intentions were far from what they seemed.
Warnings: angst, fluff
Words:1k
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Sunshine warmed my face as I settled into the comfortable swing on our back patio, a contented sigh escaping my lips. It had been a perfect week. Mattheo had finally confessed his love, the words erasing months of unspoken feelings. Just as I was lost in a daydream fueled by newfound happiness, a shadow fell over me.
"Hey, Mattheo," I chirped, anticipation bubbling in my chest.
"I came to tell you this is over." His words hung heavy in the air, shattering the idyllic moment into a million pieces.
I stared at him, open-mouthed. Just last week, his eyes had held the promise of forever. Now, they were cold and indifferent.
"What?" I finally managed, my voice barely a whisper.
"You heard me," he said flatly, as if breaking up with me was as trivial as ordering a coffee. "We were fun, but now I'm bored. So, take a hint and accept it Have some dignity."
He didn't even wait for a response, turning on his heel and walking away with an air of casual cruelty. I sat there, frozen in place, the swing creaking eerily in the sudden silence. The warmth of the sun felt mocking, the scent of roses acrid.
Mattheo's "breakup" was a cruel joke. One day declarations of forever, the next, a dismissal delivered with the coldness of day-old coffee. Since then, he'd morphed back into his old self – a walking scandal magnet.
He reveled in making sure I witnessed his conquests: lingering kisses with Ravenclaw girls, neck nuzzles from Hufflepuffs. Whispers swirled of a Slytherin threesome – all delivered with the precision of a well-placed punch.
I had no one to confide in. Mattheo wasn't just my boyfriend, but he was the only connection I had. The only person I truly felt comfortable with. And love. There, I said it. Not ashamed .
Did Mattheo love me? You'd probably laugh in my face. But I knew him better than anyone.
My Mattheo, he only broke his favorite toys, the ones he swore he'd keep forever. He smashed them, discarded them, a twisted form of affection. That's what all this was – a twisted, public display of… something.
Love wasn't a term Mattheo Riddle would be caught dead using. But this elaborate charade, this self-destruction fueled by a silent pain I recognized all too well – that was his way of showing he cared. In his own messed-up way, Mattheo Riddle loves me, or at least, he used to.
He saw forever so he smashed it up.
The memory of Mattheo announcing me as his "girl" still brought a bittersweet smile to my lips. Back then, he was undeniably smitten. His friends teased him mercilessly, but he'd simply shrug, his eyes locked on mine, He'd lean in, his voice a husky murmur, "Nothing else matters, just you."
Mattheo, however, was a stranger to love. Affection wasn't a language spoken in his household, something I vowed to keep buried deep. So when I confessed my love, his mumbled response, rushed and panicked, was the first clue to the impending storm.
He ran. It was what he did best, fleeing from anything that threatened to crack the carefully constructed facade. And me? I was left in the wreckage of the castle he'd built and then demolished.
But our connection, it ran deeper than anyone knew. I'd glimpsed a vulnerability in him hidden from the world, a tenderness he reserved only for me.
Now, as I watched him flaunt his supposed conquests, a smirk played on my lips. He cursed under his breath ; I saw through the act. He knew I wasn't fooled by his theatrics. He might be able to fool everyone else, but not me.
This charade wouldn't last forever. Once I picked up the pieces, once I was whole again, he'd realize what he'd lost. The girl who saw him, the girl who loved the broken parts he kept hidden, the girl who held the key to a love he both craved and feared.
So today I was Ignoring the seedy stares in Knockturn Alley, I marched towards the dingy bar Mattheo frequented.
There he was, slumped over a counter, a half-empty bottle of something potent in front of him. Before he could down another shot, I snatched the glass from his hand.
"Y/N? What are you doing here?" he slurred, a flicker of surprise crossing his features.
"This place is dangerous," He said, "You shouldn't be here."
"So are you,"I say.
He mumbled something about me not understanding, but his defiance seemed hollow. Outside, the cool night air slapped him awake a bit.
"Look, can you give us a minute please ?" I pleaded to Theo , he was the one who told me about this mess and get me there , he nodded in understanding.
Leading Matteo to a dimly lit alley behind the bar, I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. He sank down onto the cobblestones, avoiding my gaze. "Why did you come?" .
"Because I care about you," I said simply.
He scoffed. "You don't understand."
I shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips. "Actually, the problem is I do understand too well. If I hadn't, I would have walked away after you broke things off. But I know you better than that, Mattheo."
His eyes flickered up to meet mine, a flicker of vulnerability replacing the drunken bravado.
"You're better off without me," he muttered, pushing his hair back.
"No," I said, taking his hand. "And I don't care. I knew what I was getting into. This is my choice, Mattheo. I choose you, with all your crazy antics and trouble. I'm not trying to change you – I love you just the way you are, And you Mattheo Riddle. You deserve that love."
The words hung heavy in the air. He stared at me, stunned. "And I promise," I continued, "we can take things slow. If you do love me, I'm willing to—"
He cut me off, his voice rough with emotion. "Dammit, Y/N, I love you more than anything in this world. That scares the living hell out of me."
Before I could respond, he pulled me into a kiss. It was desperate, hungry, as if he'd been holding himself back for far too long. My heart hammered against my ribs as I kissed him back, the alley momentarily fading away.
When we finally broke apart, his eyes were filled with a mixture of fear and relief. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, leaning his forehead against mine.
I nodded, gently pushing his hair back. "I know. Just promise me you won't do that again. I love you, but it hurt."
"Never again," he promised, his voice thick with sincerity.
This time, it was my turn to initiate the kiss. It was slower, softer, filled with a new understanding. As we pulled away, breathless, he mumbled, "I never did anything with those girls."
A playful smile crept onto my face. "Oh, believe me, I know. if you did, you wouldn't have a pretty face left."
With a mock grimace, he pulled me closer. "Now come on," i said, "let's get out of here before your little knight in shining armor gets impatient with us."
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
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sugar-coat-it · 1 day
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Body piercer! Matty part three 
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Part 1, Part 2
I missed writing for this man so much my god he is my everything. If you haven’t read the other parts, go ahead and do that first for context perhaps! 
Fem! Reader
Contains: Mutual pining, cutie newly established relationship, mention of marijuana, proud concert bf Matty, him being protective of girlie at the show, exhibitionism (light petting in the crowd), rough quickie (unprotected), public sex (bathroom), fingering and fucking on the counter, Matty puts his hand over her mouth, mirror sex, choking (with jewelry)
WC: ~6.3k
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PART THREE- Your new boyfriend takes you to a punk show, ending with a quickie in the venue bathroom
—-------------------------------------
Both you and Matty knew in your hearts that this wasn’t just a fling. Flings didn’t stay up for endless hours on the phone, knowing damn well that you both had work the next morning. Flings also didn’t think about each other for every waking minute, always sending each other sentimental messages when things reminded them of each other. And, they certainly don’t touch you the way Matty touches you: like he’s like he’s been starved of you his entire life. He’d frankly been losing his mind, constantly daydreaming at work as he stared at the Polaroid of the two of you he kept at the front desk, knowing he couldn’t stand not calling you his girlfriend much longer. Not after the past couple of weeks you’d been seeing each other had been some of the best of his life. He was so antsy over the fact that he couldn’t actually call you his that it was eating him alive, where else would he ever find someone as perfect for him as you? His work friends teased him endlessly for being so head over his platform boot heels, telling him how he needed to lock you down as soon as possible. He endearingly calls you his “favorite client”, but you’ve quickly become his favorite everything (“No. You don’t even get it, mate,” he’d said, rambling on to some poor guy whose ears he was piercing, “she's like… the light of my life, really”). But, considering that you couldn’t close your eyes without picturing his pretty brown irises staring back at you, his eyes crinkling at the edges with all his twinkling, wild mirth, you weren’t faring much better.
 Just as you’d hoped from that first night together, his sleepy eyes were in fact now a constant in your life. He asked you to be his girlfriend after taking you back to the same cafe where you’d had your blind date. Needless to say, it was an enthusiastic yes on your part, and everything has been so much brighter since, you can hardly imagine your life without all of his ruckus. Your days with him are long and lazy, and the nights are even longer, often spent wrapped up in his sheets or giggling while curled up on his couch after a smoke session.
You’ve learned a lot about Matty in the time you’ve been together. Like his tendency to leave things in your flat, his ungodly marijuana tolerance levels, and his love for his puppy Mayhem. You’ve also found that he takes his music very seriously. Listening to music is like a ritual to him, one that he refuses to partake in with “trashy” music. You call it snobbery, he calls it having good taste, and lately, he’s been trying to share that taste with you. He’s almost been subtly brainwashing you into getting into his bands, playing their songs in his car, burning some of their tracks on his CD mixtapes for you (always scrawled with cute Sharpie doodles and bad handwriting), humming the melodies of his favorite songs to you while cuddling. Honestly, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working, you’ve found yourself adding his music to your playlists, combining your styles much like how the mohawked man has slowly rooted his way into every corner of your life. 
So of course, words couldn’t describe how thrilled he was when you agreed to see one of his favorite bands play at a punk rock show. He’d approached you with the idea tentatively, explaining that it was fine if you didn’t want to go, he’d just take one of his mates from work if so. The way his face lit up when you said yes, your heart could have burst as you watched his eyes sparkle with pure unbridled joy. Then, he leaned in and kissed every inch of your face, ignoring your giggles and protests of him tickling you while he declared how much you were going to love it. 
 When the day of the show arrived, you kept your outfit simple: baggy, ripped jeans, a white tank top, a band hoodie, and a studded belt you recovered from the depths of your closet, figuring you’d at least blend in with the grungier crowd that way. You put on one last thing to complete the look, hooking Matty’s chunky, silver chain (that of course, he’d left on your dresser) around your neck. You smile to yourself as you tuck it under your clothes, liking the feel of having him close to your heart like this. When did you become such a sap?
Meanwhile, Matty was pacing around your flat, making sure he had everything he needed and that you’d get there in time for doors. His reasoning for being punctual was much less about him than it was for you. He wanted you to fully experience being close to the stage because he knows how much you like to take pictures at shows, your constantly full phone storage being a telltale sign of that. He was going full-on concert boyfriend mode, also keeping your lipstick and your wallet in his little hip pouch so you wouldn’t have to worry about carrying anything but your phone. He’d clearly thought this through quite a lot, he’d been looking forward to it for weeks. 
A sudden kiss to his cheek quiets the hum of his overactive mind when you approach him, his furrowed brows sloping to a soft look of adoration as he insists on you standing still so he can take a good look at your outfit. He holds his fingers up in front of him in the shape of a square, squinting one eye closed like he’s framing you for a memory. Sure, the relationship was shiny and new, but something about the way he looked at you told you this wasn’t going to dull with time’s cruel hands, not any time soon at least. 
“Ohh, yeah. Very punk rock, baby,” he smiles slyly, chuckling as you roll your eyes. 
“Hardly! I don’t exactly have the wardrobe for this.”
“Shh, nonsense. You’re like a regular Joan Jett, babe. But hotter.”
“But hotter? Wow,” you laugh, now glancing down at the jewelry adorning his hands and wrists, “I like your bracelet.”
Matty cringes, sucking a breath through his teeth while looking up towards the ceiling. He recalls just how he’d obtained said bracelet as a teenager with something to prove. He was never a bad kid, just a highly restless one who got bored too easily. Besides, he never got in any real trouble since his parents would have strung him up by his toes otherwise. 
“Erm, thanks. I think I nicked it when I was a teen.”
“You were a delinquent!?” you exclaim, causing Matty’s loud laughter to ring through the apartment.
“That’s a strong term, innit? Let’s call it… misguided… and stupid. Now c’mon, out the door, miss.” 
You shake your head playfully as he shoos you out of the flat, imagining a younger version of your boyfriend getting into all sorts of mischief. You can almost perfectly picture his toothy, boyish grin as he runs around the streets of his hometown with his mates by his side, freckle-faced and carefree, his curls in an unruly mop on his head. You wonder if you would have gotten along with him in his younger, wilder days. An odd part of you hopes he still would have liked you. 
“Why do you still have it?” you ask as you start your walk to the train together. “What can I say? I’m unbelievably sentimental.”
The train ride is quiet, you share his wireless earbuds and listen to music side by side. The deal was that the queue of songs switched back and forth, you got to play one song, then him. He leans his head against your shoulder, the muss of hair atop the shaved sides of his head grazing your neck. He almost falls asleep as you start to scratch the top of his head. But, inevitably, all of his energy comes rushing back to him when the train comes to a halt. Immediately, he’s grabbing your hand to bound down the street to the venue, shouting about how good of a spot you’re going to get. 
—---------------------------------------------
Once inside, at a glance, you don’t exactly fit in here. A sort of insecurity festers in you as you eye some of the girls dressed in spikes and leather, they looked like they belonged here, and so did your boyfriend. But, you try to shake it off nonetheless, even if you didn’t feel nearly as cool as you wanted to. This place was like the high council of people who exclusively wear clothes with tears in them.
Matty stands close behind you as you pack in with the rest of the grungy-looking crowd. His hands are on your hips as he glances around, making sure that you have enough space to stand comfortably. He knows how these shows can get, and he’s made it his personal mission to make sure no one ruins the experience for you. He shoots a look at any guy who tries to stand too close to you, the coldness of his stare sending them inching away from your personal space with cowardice. In an instant, the mean look is wiped off his face as he glances down at you, seeing how happy you seem to be there with him. He leans down, the cool metal of his chain grazing your neck as he speaks near your ear, just loud enough so you can hear him over the buzz of chatter throughout the venue. 
“Can you see alright?” he asks, giving your hips a little squeeze. 
You nod with a smile, having a fairly clear view of the stage. You’re only about three rows back thanks to Matty’s punctuality. You turn your head, grasping the necklace around his neck gently before pulling him down further so you can kiss his cheek. A grin breaks out on your boyfriend’s face, he can’t help but chuckle at your little move, he loves it when you get bold with him. His lips brush against your ear as he murmurs “little minx” before standing back up to his full height.
Matty talks over the pre-show music as he tells you a bit of background about the bands playing tonight, prattling on about who plays what and what makes them so cool. You listen to him with an enamored look plastered on your face, nodding along even when you have no clue what he’s talking about, but what else is new? It only makes you adore him more with every detail rattled off from the depths of his mind.
“... and this one here I don’t know shit about, to be honest. I reckon they’re probably fine though,” he shrugs, showing you the lineup on his phone. 
You squint at the screen, tapping your nail against one of the names you recognize because of him. You blink up at him prettily, knowing he’s going to get a kick out of what you say next.
“This is the one with the guy who plays the drums with two pedals, right?” you recall, tilting your head at him, knowing damn well that you’re laying it on thick. 
“Yes!! Yes, exactly,” he beams, his eyes instantly lighting up before he presses an enthusiastic kiss to your temple, “That’s my fuckin’ girl. The coolest girlfriend.”
Soon, the show begins, and Matty lets out an excited whoop as the first band makes their entrance, the one he’d bought the tickets for in the first place. He lets go of your hips, taking a small step back to give you the room to dance if you want to. He’s so considerate of you, it makes a glowing sort of warmth swell in your chest. You glance back at him and he gives you two thumbs up, his face scrunching up with a grin that’s so earnestly Matty, you have to resist the urge to just grab him and kiss him till your lips are raw right in the middle of the crowd. Not to mention how fucking good he looks tonight, his tank top allowing his tattooed arms to be on full display, and it should be illegal how tightly those black leather pants cling to his legs.
Your attention turns back to the stage as the first notes ring through the small venue, grungy guitar chords echoing off of the walls. Nothing gives you the same feeling as live music does, the pure thrill it makes rush through you is unmatched (sorry, Matty). The music is harsh, it grates on your ears, but in the best way possible. It’s invigorating, fucking electrifying, it’s thrumming in the hollow of your chest. You feel alive. Matty leans over to see it all happen from just a step away, watching the stage lights reflect in your eyes. He hadn’t looked at the band once, this was far more mesmerizing than anything that could be happening up there. You’ve completely captured his attention, and when you start bobbing your head to the beat and singing along to the chorus, Matty almost drops to one knee right then and there. He’s already mentally noted that this song will in fact be played at your wedding reception.
As the set goes on, his eyes stay on you for the majority of the time, he’s just so taken by watching you have this much fun hearing his music, which is now your music too. He’s simply beaming with pride. Every time you look back at him with that thrilled look on your face while you’re moving to the rhythm only solidifies to him that you’re his absolute dream girl. And of course, he’s having the time of his life too. Matty mouthes along to all of the words, nodding his head in a way that makes his quaffed mohawk bounce with his movements. And, shit, it’s hot in the crowd, you can feel the heat radiating off of the bodies moving around you. The hoodie you brought may have been an oversight, you can practically feel your mascara melting off of your lashes. 
The show goes on, and when the moshing in the middle of the crowd gets increasingly rowdy, one man gets shoved and sent hurtling past the bodies between you and the mosh pit. You quickly hold your hands out to brace for the impact, knowing this can’t end well as you prepare to meet your leather-jacketed doom. The man is visibly very intoxicated and he would have stumbled straight into your body from the momentum if Matty’s hands hadn’t shot out to block him, catching him by his shoulders.
“Oi! Watch where you’re fuckin’ going, fuck’s sake!” Matty spits, sending him back toward the pit with a light push. 
Now, had Matty done his fair share of moshing and getting absolutely catapulted into other people at breakneck velocity? Yes. It’s not even entirely the guy’s fault that he almost crashed into you, he was pretty drunk and didn’t have his wits or his balance about him, but in Matty’s mind, he might as well have tried to tackle you to the ground WWE style. 
“I could have caught him!” you argue over the music, laughing at the bitter look on your boyfriend's face.
Matty raises an eyebrow at you and shakes his head with an amused smile, but doesn’t argue. Maybe you could have, but he wasn’t about to let some sloshed idiot break his girlfriend's back because that’s his job, dammit. 
The band’s set is finished with a bang, the final chords echoing in your ears as you try to catch your breath from moving almost nonstop, your heart thundering against your ribs. You turn around to face Matty with a giant grin plastered on your face, letting out a breathless, excited laugh. He just chuckles, eyeing the strands of hair sticking to your face from the sheen of sweat, your smudged makeup rimming your wide eyes. He’s not in much better shape, his tank top is clinging to his body like a second skin. By this point, your hoodie feels like it has its own climate, and you’re dying to peel it off. 
“Fun?” he asks, as you start to lift the fabric over your head.
“Oh my god, yeah,” you breathe, your voice muffled by the hoodie. 
“I-”
His next words die in his throat as his eyes immediately snap to your chest, his breath catching as he spots the clear outline of your nipple piercings through your drenched, white tank top and- was that one of his chains around your neck? He feels a stir in his tight leather pants as his mouth slightly drops, he can’t remember ever being so instantly and completely turned on. Heat ripples through his body, climbing up to his face as he shamelessly stares at your tits. Not only were you showing off his skillful work, but your pretty neck was adorned with the chain he’d forgotten all about at your place. It might even look better on you than it does on him.
 You’re tying your hoodie around your waist when you catch the look on his face, your brows knitting together with confusion till you follow his gaze and find your piercings proudly displayed through your shirt. As the realization dawns on you, you look up at your boyfriend with a coy smile. Matty shudders, lust crowding his mind as he struggles to come up with a coherent thought, one that isn’t wildly pornographic. He can actually feel his hands tense with the urge to grasp, to lay claim to you with his fingertips. You simply look up at him through your lashes, watching him short-circuit right before your eyes. 
Before he has the chance to say or do anything, the next band comes onto the stage, the crowd roaring to life a second time. You give him a knowing look before turning back around to face the direction of the music. Matty swallows hard, raking a hand through his mohawk like he’s grappling with demons… and losing.
The music is nothing more than a pulsing beat in his skull, his attention is fully on the back of your head. He begins to inch forward to you, his hands finding a home on your hips while you vibe to the beat. He brings your hips back against him, feeling your movements stutter as the protrusion in his trousers presses into your ass as if to say “Feel what you did to me?”. You get the message loud and clear, draping your weight against him, your head lolling back against his shoulder as you both rock to the beat of the drums, sweaty skin to sweaty skin. Matty’s hands begin to wander, mapping over the damp fabric of your tank top, up your stomach, over your ribs till- oh. You gasp, the stage lights strobing under your closed eyes as he squeezes your tits through your top. Matty can distinctly feel the barbells through the thin fabric, it drives him fucking wild. Your lips part as you melt into him like honey, your skin feels like it’s on fire as the music blares through the venue. Your stomach swoops when he dares to flick the piercings with his fingertips, danger humming in your veins as he gets bolder, as if you’re not surrounded by a sea of people. Your eyes snap open, you quickly glance around to find that everyone’s far too enthralled with the show to notice, not that Matty would give a shit if they did. No one can hear the way you whimper when he pinches your nipples. You stare down at the large hands that possessively grope your breasts, feeling a throb resound between your thighs. 
“Matty, you said this was the band you don’t know, right?” you call to him, your voice uneven and unnaturally high-pitched. 
His heavily lidded eyes look almost black with the way they darken as he reads between the lines. Even if it was one of the bands he liked, he’s pretty sure absolutely nothing could stop him from doing what comes next, not when his dick is this hard, and you’ve teased him this salaciously. Wordlessly, Matty lets go of your chest and grabs your hand, leading you through the crowd towards the exit. He moves fast, the urgency in his strides and on his face likely making people move out of the way quicker. You’d feel concerned about losing your spot up front if your mind wasn’t so scrambled with need, your legs rushing to keep up with your lanky boyfriend. 
Your head is spinning as he swiftly leads you into the nearest gender-neutral bathroom. Matty’s hands are on you the moment he closes and locks the door, he’s all over you in every sense of the term. You breathe in the musk of his sweat between the melding of your lips. The kiss is messy, it’s searingly hot as he desperately licks into your mouth, his fingertips digging into your hip bones. He backs you up blindly until your hips meet the bathroom counter, his hands reaching to undo the hoodie tied around your waist and toss it aside without breaking the kiss once. You didn’t think you could get much hotter than you were in the crowd, but now you’re burning up from the inside with white-hot desire.
Matty hastily turns you around to face the bathroom mirror, tagged with graffiti and littered with lipstick prints at the border. It was clear that the space was well-loved, but clean. A culmination of every aspiring artist and sticker enthusiast in the area, almost no spot on the wall was left untouched. Your eyes are drawn away from the decor as Matty grasps your jaw from behind you, turning your head to make you meet the almost feral look in his eyes through the mirror. He holds you that way as he leans down to press dire, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, his other hand snaking down your front to unbutton your pants. The feeling of his tongue stud soothing over faded love bites only makes you weaker in the knees. Matty fumbles with the zipper of your jeans for a moment before he shoves the clothing down your legs, the fabric pooling around your ankles. It’s clear that he’s not wasting time with his usual delicate, worshiping caresses of your thighs while he undresses you, this is an electrified frenzy. 
“No bra, baby? Is that how you want to play?” he mutters, his lips grazing the column of your neck teasingly. 
“I-I didn’t-” you begin to protest, only to be cut off by your own moan as he gives a rough pinch to your nipple through your top.
Matty follows the curve of your midsection with his hand, intense honey-colored eyes locked on you through your reflection, the image swirled at the edges with colorful spray paint. A shudder reverberates through your body as his fingers venture lower, dipping below the waistband of your soaked panties. Your body instinctually arches backward against his, mewling when his calloused fingertips brush against your swollen clit. It’s like he can light up every one of your senses with just a graze, your breath getting shallower by the second. You feel his stiff cock twitch in his trousers as you press yourself impossibly closer to him, every inch of his glowing skin flush against your back. Matty continues his loving assault on your neck as his thick digits gather the arousal pooling between your thighs. Your dazed vision trails downward as you stare at his hand shoved inside your panties from behind you, watching the fabric shift with every movement of his skilled hand. You whine as he circles your slit before beginning to sink his slicked fingers into you, your eyes squeezing shut as the dizzying pleasure thrums in your veins. 
“Shhh. You know how much I love your pretty noises, baby, but be good, okay? Can you do that? Don’t want anyone to know what we’re up to, do you?” he murmurs, dragging his plush bottom lip against your ear lobe. 
You nod wordlessly, afraid that if you open your mouth, noise will overflow from you uncontrollably, his fingers being knuckle-deep in you is just too damn good. If you don’t control yourself, anyone outside could hear you, could know how good your boyfriend is filling you with his fingers, satisfying you to your very core. The thought of it alone makes your heart hammer in your chest harder. You don’t want them to know… because that would be wrong, it would be undignified… it’d be… kind of hot.
 His digits stretch you open as he begins to diligently pump them in and out of you, curling them towards the spot that he knows will make you see stars. He works quickly, his pace is almost feverish from his determination to make you fall to pieces as efficiently as he can. Matty’s other hand is groping your breast, squeezing the fullness of it, his rings pressing into your flesh through your thin tank top. You bite down on your lip hard enough that you think you might tear the flesh open, desperately trying to keep your whimpers quiet. Matty’s gaze on you is cautionary, his eyebrows slightly raised like he’s testing you, seeing just how much you can take. 
The last of your defenses come crumbling down as the pad of his thumb presses against your clit, the flood of sensations making a moan burst from your throat as he begins to draw tight circles on the bundle of nerves. In an instant, Matty’s hand is off of your chest and is clasped over your mouth, muffling any noise. Fuck.
“I mean it. Pipe down, or I’ll stop,” he says sternly, smirking at you as he feels your walls flutter around his fingers. 
“No- no, please don’t stop,” you babble against his palm like the idea of it was simply unbearable.
Matty’s hand stays firmly over your mouth as he withdraws his fingers from inside you, ignoring the way you squirm in protest, whining uselessly. He tugs your ruined panties down your legs, letting them join your pants in a heap around your ankles. It’s almost embarrassing how you can hardly contain your desire, but he likes it that way, knowing how needy you are.
“Matty, please, fuck, need it,” you mumble, and he can see the way your desire is clawing at you from the inside just from a glance.
“Be patient for me, my love,” he smiles, hurriedly pulling himself out of his uncomfortably skin-tight pants with his free hand, “You’ll get what you want. Being stuffed full with my cock, hm?”
You whimper as Matty nudges your legs further apart with his foot, leaning you forward over the counter onto your elbows. He whistles lowly at the sight of you, his eyes following down your spine, over the curve of your ass, and to your dripping pussy. You tremble slightly as he reaches between your legs, collecting your honey on his fingers before spreading it over his shaft, slicking himself with your arousal. A whine vibrates against the palm Matty holds over your mouth as you swing your hips in a desperate attempt to entice him. He just chuckles darkly, keeping his hand securely in place as starts to guide his cock through your folds, the head kissing your aching clit as he rubs it back and forth. 
Matty doesn’t waste a second longer, you can hardly process it before he’s pushing inside of you, gasping as he fills you inch by inch. His fingertips press into the side of your face as he tightens his hold on your mouth to muffle your mewls, watching as your lashes flutter, your face contorting with pleasure. He can feel your hot, heavy breaths fanning into his palm, your chest heaving as he bottoms out inside of you. Matty groans loudly, tossing his head back as he’s fully surrounded by your velvety warmth, forgetting his own volume rules that he’d set for you. Hypocrite.
“Oh, fuck, you feel so good,” he sighs, reaching to pull your tank top over your breasts, “Stay like that for me, yeah? Wanna see your perfect tits.”
He barely allows you a moment to breathe before he’s snapping his hips against you roughly, letting out a strained grunt with every thrust. Sensations trickle up your spine like flickering flames as a muffled cry spills out of you. Matty angles his hips just right, hitting so deep inside you that you feel as though you’re being split open by each drive of his cock, it’s mind-numbing. Your whole body jolts against the counter with his purposeful movements, the edge of the porcelain biting into your hip bones. He can hardly focus on just one thing, his gaze darting from where he’s disappearing inside of you, to your gorgeous face, to your breasts. Matty’s raspy voice makes your eyes refocus on him, you watch in the mirror as he licks his teeth like he wants to devour you whole.
“You see how pretty you look? No, no, sweetheart, don’t look at me, look at yourself. God, isn’t she pretty?” he drawls, “You look so sexy, wearing my chain like that while you’re taking my cock.”
At his instruction, you meet your own eyes through the reflection, your eyebrows sloping as you realize that he’s right, you do look pretty when he’s fucking you. Your rosied cheeks, your blown pupils, your glowing skin… and your boyfriend’s hand over your mouth. Your chain bounces against your collarbones in tandem with your pierced tits, it’s no wonder he’s loving this position so much, he gets to watch everything at once. While you’re gazing at yourself, Matty reaches around and begins to rub two fingers on your clit, swirling them in intoxicatingly quick figure eights. You watch your own eyes go wide as the pleasure ricochets through your bones, making you light-headed. This must be the expression Matty lives for when he’s got you like this, the face to his sweetest wet dreams. You’re almost mesmerized by seeing yourself get railed to high heaven, it’s sort of an odd feeling. In one swift motion, Matty lets go of your face and grasps the chain around your neck, pulling it taut against your throat from behind, ripping a shocked cry from your lips. 
“Ohh, she liked that one,” he grins lazily, tilting his head back with a groan as he feels your walls clamp down on him like a vice, “Shit, not gonna last if you keep doin’ that, god damn.”
It feels like he’s stolen the air directly from your lungs as he lightly chokes you with the silver links you’d so slickly “borrowed” from him. Even just the slight restriction of oxygen has you reeling, your eyes rolling back as your hands claw at the counter, your whole body buzzing with mortifying heights of exhilaration. It’s a dizzying combination of thrill and precarious risk as Matty keeps a tight hold on the chain while fucking you with such vigor that you don’t feel attached to your body, the counter being your only loose grasp on reality. It only makes every drive of his cock feel that much more visceral, the tension coiling tighter in your belly. Heat prickles at your cheeks and the bridge of your nose at the purely obscene sounds of him thrusting into your sopping cunt, skin on skin echoing through the small space while his fingers abuse your clit.
It’s all building up so fast, quicker than usual due to Matty’s frenzied rhythm, his hips meeting yours again and again, unrelentingly. You bite back a wail as the tension so deep inside you reverberates in crackling pangs, threatening to break you to pieces as you arch backward. Your hips writhe against his hand both like you’re chasing the friction and trying to thrash away from its intensity. He can tell you’re on the edge of euphoria, teetering with every swipe of his fingers, every slam of his hips. He gives the chain a harsh tug, knowing it’ll send you spiraling into the depths of pleasure just beyond your fingertips.
“Fuck!” you gasp, one of your hands flying to grip his wrist as your mind goes impossibly blank, your nails digging into his skin, “I’m gonna- I-I can’t!”
“Shit, me too angel, so close. Oh, fuck, cum for me, sweet girl. Cum for me while I fill you up,” he grunts, a burst of energy coming over him as he manages to piston into you even more brutally. 
It crashes over you like a thunderous wave, spiraling through you from your dizzied head to the tips of your curled toes. He lets go of the chain, putting his hand over your mouth again to stifle your cry, the disorienting rush of oxygen almost making your knees give out from underneath you, and they just might have if Matty hadn’t kept you supported against the counter. It feels like pure white light is fizzling under your eyelids as Matty makes you reach the stars with your climax, dousing you in pulsating bliss as you clench around him tightly. He lets out a deep, animalistic sound as he spills inside of you, warmth flooding your insides as he fucks you through your orgasm, his rhythm beginning to falter from the effort. 
“Fuuuck!” he hisses through gritted teeth, along with other breathy strings of profanities. 
Slowly, his body stutters to a stop, giving one last roll of his hips before he collapses over you as delicately as he can, enveloping you with his chest to your back. He lovingly presses kisses to the back of your neck as your head hangs forward slightly, both of you gasping to catch your breath. 
“H-holy shit, babe. You’re so good…you’re fucking incredible,” he mutters, seeming just as dazed as you are. 
He can’t seem to stop complimenting you and loving on you as he keeps you held up with his hands on your hips, rubbing little circles into your skin as you both come down from the highest of highs. The afterglow clouds your head in a way that makes you feel like you’re floating with Matty being your only anchor to the ground. 
“Matty…” you mumble, reaching back blindly for his face.
“I’m right here. Right here, love,” he whispers, guiding your palm to his cheek. 
You smile warmly as you feel the scruffy sides of his head at your fingertips, Matty keeping his hand over yours sweetly. At the same time you both glance upwards at the mirror, letting out simultaneous giggles as you appreciate the state you’re in. He leans to kiss your cheek, peering into your eyes adoringly through the reflection, pulling your top back down over your breasts. 
“Oh my god… we’re a mess,” you snort, rubbing aimlessly at your runny mascara with your free hand.
“You mean you’re a mess, I look damn good,” he jokes, starting to slowly ease you both back up into a standing position. 
You both let out a breathy sound as he pulls out of you slowly, his cum beginning to streak down your thighs. Of course, Matty stares, swallowing thickly like he’ll never quite get used to the sight while he shimmies back into his pants. Diligently, he reaches for a handful of paper towels, keeping a gentle hold on your hip. You reach to try and smack his arm when he laughs at the way your legs are trembling, your knees wobbling due to how hard he’d railed you. He dodges the blow, grinning at you triumphantly.
Matty gently wipes away the residue of his pearly release, whispering a hushed “I know, I know” when you squirm at the sensitivity. Once he discards the paper towels, he kneels down to pull your underwear and your jeans back up, kissing his way up the outside of your leg as he does so while looking into your eyes with a playful glint. He kisses you deeply while he buttons your pants with nimble hands, not even letting you lift a finger as he takes care of his girl. You throw your arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss as he teases his tongue piercing along your bottom lip just to make you shiver. 
“My perfect girl,” he mumbles against your mouth.
You stay in the bathroom for just a little longer, kissing and whispering sweet things to each other while your bodies fully come down, Matty shouting at whoever keeps intermittently knocking on the door to fuck off. You can’t help but feel a little tinge of guilt in your stomach for “christening” the restroom the way you did, but you highly doubt you were the first. 
After he reassures you that the makeup streaked down your cheeks is “hardcore” and that you should leave it the way it is, you finally leave to re-enter the show (not before one final, drawn-out kiss, of course). Your boyfriend keeps you close by his side, his fingers interlocked with yours as you find yourselves at the very back of the pit, scattered with only a few other people. Matty guides your arms around his neck, grinning at you like a fool as you start to rock back and forth to the rhythm of the drums. His smile is infectious as he leans in to rest his forehead against yours, singing to you when the song reaches its chorus. He looks incredibly dorky as mimics the wail of the guitar solo, swinging his hips while his hands rest comfortably on your waist, almost like you’re about to slow dance. You tell him as such and Matty just tosses his head back with a laugh like a little kid. His eyes are sparkling, but not just from the iridescent stage lighting, it’s the look he gets only when he’s with you. You feel your heart swell in your chest as you continue to dance like you’re the only two in the venue, and he looks at you like you’re the only woman in the whole world. 
—-----------------------------------------
SO I was a liar and I did write another part. I intended this to be a blurb but I had so many more thoughts about them and their relationship eeeeee
The ending was soooo “do you wanna dance, dance at the back of the hall”
I love them. I need them to be happy forever actually. 
This one is dedicated to my lovely lovely friend B (@haveyouseenherlately) thank you so much for the ideas, you get body piercer like no one else, queen. Love you!!!
Go check out her stuff if you haven’t it SLAYS <3
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politemenacephd · 2 days
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The Surrogate: Part IV
Miguel O'Hara X Peter B. Parker X GN!Reader (+18) Part one Part Two Part three Series Content: Planned pregnancy, Breeding kink, PinV sex, Oral sex, Threesome, Web knotting, Aftercare, Possible Angst/fluff.
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Miguel and Peter want a third child, and apparently they've run out of options. That is, except for you, their friend and colleague. They offer to cover everything, and the pay is life-changing. There's just one catch: they went to concieve naturally.
- One month later-
‘Breakfast! Come on, wakey wakey!
You darted your head towards the door of your bedroom as Peter’s voice drifted through. Was everyone awake already?
You were standing half naked in your own little guest room, one you were very well acquainted with at this point. Your clothes filled the wardrobes and spilled out over the edge of the bathroom hamper, and the bed had your signature messy look to it. Your items were all over the bedside table, the bathroom smelled like your favorite body wash, and you could find your way to bed now even with the light fully off.
You also had been here long enough to know that call, and to know what the morning routine was.
You hurried to pull on some comfortable, lounging clothes before pushing your door open to join the rest of the household.
Peter was in the kitchen behind a smoky stove, busy cooking away for once. You were used to Miguel being the chef around here, at least for the girls. Neither of the boys were very accomplished cooks but they desperately wanted you to believe otherwise.
You could also see two little heads bouncing up and down beside him, heads which immediately homed in on you as you entered.
‘Y/N!’ May squealed, her little socks skidding on the floor as she hurried around the counter.
‘Good morning, ladies’ you said, gently holding out your hands as the girls rushed towards you. You’d gotten used to the way May would squeal and rush to latch onto your leg, and the way Gabriella would politely take your hand and jump up and down as she tried to tell you about her day.
This morning was no exception. The girls both cried for you from the kitchen where they were huddled around Peter, tugging on his trousers as he tried to finish loading up five plates worth of pancakes.
You could see he was sweating over the pan but he had the most infectious, patient smile on his face regardless, dressing in his loose shirt and pants with a tight pink apron around his waist.
As you approached Peter beamed and made a slight ‘oh’ face. ‘Oh, good morning! Hey, watch this’ he called, and without missing a beat he tossed a pancake nearly a meter into the air before catching it again.
‘Come on, am I getting good or am I getting good?’ Peter crowed. He relished in your polite, slightly amused clap and the girl's squeals of excitement.
‘You’re going to make a mess, that’s what you’re doing.’
Miguel’s gruff, smooth voice filled the kitchen as he entered from his and Peter’s bedroom. He was still in his pajamas a common sight for you now, with his hair messy and unkempt and a slight stubble on his jaw. It was a weekend, and he’d just returned from a long and vicious mission, so you understood his desire to relax a little. You knew Peter tried to enforce rest where he could.
‘My love- I made EVERYONE’S plates without spilling a single one!’ Peter protested. He pouted up a storm but still melted when Miguel came up to kiss his temple.
‘Mhm. You got very statistically lucky’ Miguel purred back. ‘Now I’d like you to stop being that luck runs out.’
‘Papa!’
Miguel paused his teasing to scoop up May and Gabriella in both arms, kissing them both on the cheek before carrying them over to the dining table.
‘Yes, good morning mi amors’ he said with a yawn, his face also endlessly patient as the girls patted at his worn, rough face. He even chuckled as May tried to trickle him, showing no response to her patting at his thick neck.
‘Alright, come on, behave. What will our guest think?’ Miguel added as he put the girls down in their chairs. May groaned.
‘They’re not a GUEST anymore! They’ve been here FOREVER!’ she whined.
‘A month isn’t forever’ Miguel said gently, ‘and even if it was forever, would that mean you can still be so rude in front of them?’
‘YEAH! It does! They’re like you and daddy, they have to put up with us’ May insisted.
You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle on the sidelines. The girls were so damn charming, it was so hard not to love them. Just like their dads.
‘Alright! Sit, sit down, come on! Chop, chop!’
Peter’s impatient yelling and clapping drove you to rush to your seat, and as you did you got a chance to say good morning to Miguel. He bumped against you as you moved past him to your seat, and you got to watch as his eyes softened and creased. They roamed from your face, to your chest, right down to your belly, and there they lingered before rolling back up.
You felt your heart skip as he smiled.
‘Mi compinche’ he whispered. You snorted at the little nickname he’d given you over the past month, which was mostly a stand-in since they couldn’t really think of what else to call you. ‘Good morning’ he added.
‘Good morning, Migs’ you replied, only to be shoved into your seat by a huffing Peter.
‘Sit DOWN! No respect in this place!’ he groaned while also shoving Miguel into his seat. The man could have overpowered him all too easily but he sank down just to appease his sulking lover.
‘I know, I know. I’m awful to you’ Miguel chuckled as he checked the news on a holographic tablet. Peter snorted and put on a pout.
‘You are! Anyway- good morning you lovely little thing, look at you.’ The moment Peter turned to you his attitude changed, turning into another dorky smile as he laid down the first few plates.
‘Good morning again, Peter’ you replied with a similar chuckle.
You ate breakfast with the family in relative peace. Miguel was quite quiet, busy checking the news and the Spider Society’s daily going-on's while Peter chatted to May about her dreams and to Gabriella about her upcoming soccer game.
Miguel would interject to take notice every so often, still clearly concerned about the girls, but you knew enough now to know he showed affection in a more subdued manner to Peter. You could tell he looked contented though. Surprisingly contented…
‘Alright! Come on, Gabi’s got practise, let's go!’
You were jolted from your daydreaming by Peter’s cry, as the man pushed back his chair and hurried to get the dishes in the sink before herding the girls away.
Ah, right. They’ve got soccer practice, you thought. I’ll be home alone today.
The girls rushed off to get dressed, and while you got up to do the same, you were stopped.
You felt a thick, firm hand on your wrist, which then gently moved down to your fingers as if the person realized they were being a little too aggressive. You turned already knowing who it was.
‘Hey, hermosa/o’ Miguel said, his voice low and sweet. You smiled up at him.
‘Hey! What’s up? Is it—’
Before you could finish speaking you felt him slip something into your open hand, forcing you to grasp it. It felt like… a little cardboard box?
You rolled it around in your hand, your face growing more and more confused. It was long and thin, you could feel the soft raised brail points on its edge…
‘It- what is this?’ you whispered after a few moments of confused pause.
Miguel met your gaze with glimmering, bright red eyes. They were overflowing with excitement.
‘Pregnancy test’ he whispered, like it was the most inane thing in the world. Your heart skipped a beat, and you had to stop yourself from instinctively touching your belly.
‘You- wait, already?’ you whispered back.
Miguel’s eyes narrowed as he licked his fang, offering just a soft, almost amused grunt of confidence. ‘Mm, compinche, I already told you. The first time will have done it. You were ovulating then, it should have been enough time to show up. So, go on.’
You found your chest growing oddly tight. Already? You were already expected to be pregnant?
Miguel seemed to sense your insecurity, as his own brows went up, but before he could ask if you were okay, you smiled back and nodded.
‘Okay! Sure, no problem. I’ll um- I’ll check it this afternoon, whenever I need to pee, I guess. And- we’ll see’ you replied, quickly soothing his worries.
Miguel beamed down at you, and god it almost hurt. He looked so proud of you.
‘Mil gracias, mi compinche’ he purred back.
You stared down at the little test your hands, sitting alone in the en-suite to your temporary room in Miguel’s apartment. It was isolated here, and you’d hoped it would be quiet, but you could still hear May and Gabi playing in the living room just a few doors away.
One line. Just one line on the thin blue test in your grip. You let out a slight sigh of disappointment.
It had only been a month, that’s what you kept telling yourself, as your mind swirled.
It’d only been a month. Why, then, did it bother you so much?
You’d waited until the afternoon to take the test, as you’d somehow been too nervous to pee. You’d drunk nearly three gallons of water beforehand but only now had it worked, and only when the whole family happened to be home again after soccer practice.
You’d hoped to have time to prepare. Either to mentally prepare for this outcome or to prepare a surprise for the positive lines.
But now…
You crept out of the bathroom and peered into the living room. You could see Miguel and Peter were trying to teach May how to use her new web shooter to knock little plush toys off of the coffee table, while Gabi was mischievously throwing items in her way to distract her as she tried to web those instead.
You heard them laughing, and cheering.
Your stomach turned. Oh god. Were you about to ruin the good mood?
You slowly, shyly, closed the door, right as Miguel glanced at it.
You couldn’t stand to face them yet.
You lost track of time pacing in the bedroom, going back and forth over the fine wood flooring until it squeaked. How did you tell them? It wasn’t a big deal, right? It was normal, this was normal, but they’d made it seem like you SHOULD be pregnant right now.
Oh god, what if they were disappointed? What if they hated you? What if they thought you weren’t good enough for this?
You hated feeling this way about your friends, but you’d gotten so comfortable here, so happy, so content, and now… You remembered that you were here for a job. A serious job. And, it already felt like you’d failed…
‘Compinche?’
You jumped in place, your spine chilling at that familiar voice. You spun in place and found both Peter and Miguel in the doorway.
‘Heeyy, pretty thing, just- can we, come in?’ Peter said softly, his eyes as desperate as a puppy.
Your heart sank. You couldn’t exactly tell them no…
‘Ah- sorry, yeah, come in’ you murmured. The boys took the opportunity right away, swiftly shifting the door at their backs as they crossed the room towards you.
Miguel looked ecstatic but impatient. He seemed surprised you hadn’t told them the moment you came out of the bathroom, confused as to why you weren’t screaming and jumping for joy about his new baby.
Oh god, why, why, why…
‘Look, hey, we have to get ready for dinner, but… We wanted to ask first…’
Miguel approached with his hands outstretched, the softest smile spreading across his face as he implored you. Peter was beaming at his back.
‘It’s okay, the girls can find out later’ he added gently when you refused to say a word. Your heart sank. God, it hurt so bad. He was expecting it already, like he was so sure it’d worked. He assumed you must just be shy about these things.
You couldn’t get the words out. It was too hard. You paused, and then slowly you shook your head. You held up the little test to show the single line instead.
The way Miguel’s face changed was agony. The way his lips jittered, like he was forcing them to stay up. The way his body tensed and lowered. The way his shoulders just… deflated.
He was fixed on that line like it was his worst enemy, like it was a person who’d personally spat in his face. He paused and went silent for just a moment as he wiped a hand down his face, and God, the sigh he let out was like a knife to the chest.
‘Okay’ he whispered.
You pursed your lips into a thin line as you tried to stay calm. Why was this so hard? Why was he taking this so badly? It was just the first time. Still, you couldn’t say it out loud. ‘I… I’m sorry—’
To your surprise he then suddenly pulled you into an embrace, squeezing you tight to his huge chest. You felt so minuscule against his enormous form, tightly clutched in his giant biceps, feeling his pectorals heave as his heart thundered against your cheek.
His heart thundering… His breath a little ragged…
Oh god, he wasn’t mad. He was upset. But, was he upset with you?
‘It’s okay’ he murmured, his chin resting now on the top of your head. ‘It’s okay. It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’ll- try again, we’ll try again. We’ve got time.’
You could only nod awkwardly. This felt almost unfair. Almost nobody just got pregnant within a month of trying, it wasn’t this unusual. While Miguel’s confidence was fun and, in a way, sexy, the real pressure now mounting on you felt incredibly unnecessary.
But then he said something that really made you pause.
‘I can do this.’
I can do this. Not ‘you’ can do this, referring to you, or even ‘we’. I can do this.
He didn’t act mad, at least not towards you. Was he, angry at himself?
‘Hey, hey, it’s okay.’
Peter was the one who then rushed in and squeezed you so tight your ribs hurt, offering Miguel the same. Miguel was silent as he hugged him back.
‘It’s fine! It’s the first month, these things happen. It might even, just uh- show up next week, actually. Maybe it’s a little early. But either way, it’s normal. It’s fine. Nobody did anything wrong, YOU did nothing wrong mi amor, and neither did you pretty thing’ Peter said, softly tutting sympathetically as he saw the pain in your eyes.
Miguel remained silent.
‘We’ll try again tonight’ he repeated with a gruff tone, lightly rolling his shoulders as he forced that stoic, calm expression to fill his face. Peter’s smile faltered a little.
‘Is that, okay with you?’
As he turned to you, you nodded desperately. ‘Yeah! Of course, it—’
‘It is REALLY okay with you?’ Miguel said, his voice suddenly sounding oddly vulnerable and concerned. ‘I don’t- Ah, I’m sorry’ he said through gritted teeth, wiping a hand down his face. ‘I don’t- I know I’m, putting pressure on you, it’s not my intention. I’m sorry. I am. Just… are you really okay to try again tonight?’
You paused only for a moment in the face of his big, soft, puppy eyes, before nodding.
‘Yeah- yeah! Yeah. I am. I’m fine to go again. We’ll start again, I’ll- track my periods, I’ll take the injections, it- it’ll be fine.’
Peter’s sympathetic face turned into a grateful mess as his lip quivered, and Miguel too had his brows turn up with a look of what could only be pride.
‘… Thank you, compinche’ Miguel murmured. He put a hand on your head, ruffling your hair before pulling back with a melancholic huff. ‘Thank you.’
The two men left you as the girls started screaming for their attention. You watched Peter put a silent hand on Miguel’s back, as if propping him up when he barely had the strength to do so, before the two stepped out as if nothing had happened.
You remained, alone, in your room. This was going to be a long night. 
That evening you waited for Miguel and Peter to visit, and sure enough they appeared the moment the girls were asleep.
Miguel came in already half naked in just his pajama pants, while Peter was wearing his full loungewear. The two looked a lot less hopeful than they did the first night you’d been in this situation.
You gulped, trying not to show how nervous you were.
‘Peter, mi amor.’
Miguel addressed Peter first before you, his eyes glancing to his partner as you sat alone on the mattress. Peter glanced at you then at him.
‘Yes?’
‘Mm… We’ll, both do it, right?’ he said softly, a fang flashing beneath his lip as he licked his teeth. Peter nodded quickly. ‘Yes, if- they want that.’
‘Ah… guys?’
You couldn’t stop yourself from speaking up as they glanced at each other, but when they looked down at you in unison you felt the lump in your throat grow.
You were a mess of arousal and nerves, far worse than the last night. The sight of those huge men, powerful and relying on you, with those soft brown eyes and dark red eyes both peering at you like meat in the dim light, you felt your body stiffen.
‘Sorry, I—’
‘No, no don’t apologize.’ Miguel raised his hand and gently cut you off. He looked strained over something, but when he spoke to you, he was as gentle as ever. ‘You’re fine. It’s okay, just- We were saying, I wanted Peter to help with the, uh, foreplay first before getting into it, since…’
Miguel paused and glanced at Peter again, who gently nodded for him to continue. ‘He’s… agreed, I will be the only one having sex, with you, tonight’ Miguel said after a small pause, his voice dripping as it slipped from his lips.
You blinked in surprise at that. It’d just be Miguel tonight? Even after the bad news with the baby? Surely they’d both want to be taking turns even more now.
‘I… Oh, sure, no that’s- fine, that’s fine’ you murmured.
‘It’s not because I don’t want to’ Peter said, offering an awkward tease in the face of the weird tension filling the bedroom. ‘Trust me, I uh- would love to, but, papi here requested it.’
You glanced up at Miguel and saw that same look in his eye you’d seen before, that dark, red, glowering glare that seemed both so overly confident and so insecure at the same time. It was a look of desperation, a look of need. You felt his eyes on you like a drowning man swimming towards a pocket of air.
What had gotten into him?
You breathed in deeply and slowly nodded.
‘Yeah, of course. That’s fine. That’s, fine. I’m fine with that’ you reply slowly.
Miguel gave a curt nod, a contended, affectionate nod, and without another word, he crawled onto the bed.
As Miguel descended on you, he stank of hormones. He had a dark expression, one clouded with testosterone and primal need, and it was like that need was seeping through his pores, coating his rough, scarred skin in a light sheen of pure virility.
When he flexed his veins popped on his forearms, his biceps tight and round. He didn’t even need to speak for you to back down, cowering on your chest as he put his nose to your neck. He breathed in deep, and you shivered.
‘Mm… Okay, we’ll do your favorite, si?’ Miguel purred against your nape. You nodded.
‘Yeah, y-yeah—AH!’
You squeaked as Miguel lifted your hips without even moving his face or body. He spread your legs by slipping his muscled arm between your thighs and lifting you by the cunt, raising your hips about a foot from the mattress, allowing Peter to slide down beneath your pussy.
‘Good’ Miguel purred against your neck again. ‘Good, good.’
‘That’s it, pretty little thing, come down gently now. Don’t you worry about suffocating me either, if you do it’d be an honor’ Peter said as he carefully took over maneuvering your hips from Miguel. The larger man released your soft, wet vulva from his grip with a soft grunt, and Peter took the weight with both his hands.
He breathed on you a few times, teasing just a little as he blew hot air against your swollen clit, but he could only hold off for so long.
With a low moan, he dropped your pussy onto his face.
‘A-AH! Ahh, f-fuck’ you whimpered.
Peter moaned as he began swirling his tongue, eagerly sucking and slathering your clit with all the love he could muster, while Miguel moved his hand back down and carefully shifted it through the folds until he found your entrance.
He didn’t waste time on ceremony. He slipped one finger in, pumped, dragging the soft side of his finger right down your g-spot, then withdrew and replaced it with two fingers.
You screamed. You could do nothing else. The walls were thankfully very soundproofed, so it wasn’t an issue, but even if it had been you weren’t sure you’d have had the strength to stop.
‘OH- O-OH MY, GOD, FUCK!’
Between Miguel’s thick, calloused fingers pumping in and out and Peter eagerly making out with your clit in the messiest way possible, you melted into absolute putty in their hands.
Miguel grinned. You felt it against your neck, his lips pulling back and his sharp teeth bumping your nape as he breathed. His breath was hot, potent, desperate.
He began to move his fingers harder. With each pump you got a little looser, a little wetter, and soon his fingers were squelching as they moved in and out.
‘Good, come on. That’s it, baby’ Miguel whispered against your ear. He was commanding you like a horse, like an animal to be trained, and it did something to you. ‘Go on, that’s it. Loosen up. It’ll make it easier.’
‘U-Uh, f-fucckkk, fuck—’
Your eyes rolled as Miguel pulled back a little and pulsated his fingers at about halfway, keeping the tips on your g-spot. Peter, sensing the movement, quickly moved to suck on your clit at exactly the right time.
With a dull, frantic cry you orgasmed for the both of them, your body shaking with the strain of every muscle slowly tightening and then releasing with that heavy wave of pleasure. Peter dragged your hips down until you were crushing him, cutting off all his air just so he could get his tongue right up into your cunt, tasting every inch of that orgasm as it quivered to a stop.
Miguel let his fingers stay just long enough to feel it, to help squish some of those precious juices down for Peter to taste, before abruptly pulling out.
Your body was limply rolled off of Peter’s face and onto the bed, still on your front, and after supplying a few soft, soothing pets and gruff praise Miguel moved to whisper at Peter.
‘I’m going now. Okay?’ he hissed.
Peter was barely lucid. His eyes were glazed over, his lips and face red and wet, and his cock was hard and throbbing in his loose pants to the point he had to half-heartedly adjust them, pawing at his own erection with a soft whine.
‘O-Okay, ah… I- can I—’
‘Yes, mi amor, you can watch and satisfy yourself. Or, you can wait for me to be done and—’
‘No. No, lemme- watch’ Peter whined, a dreamy smile spreading over his face. ‘Uh… I should take some pictures of this sometime…’
Miguel grunted, not even really focused on him anymore. All he could sense was you, all he could smell was you. His breedable friend, his baby machine, the foundation of all his pride.
He crawled over and pulled your hips up into doggy before mounting from behind.
‘Now… I’m going to fuck you’ Miguel said, his voice slow and thick. ‘You understand?’
‘Y-Yes’ you whimpered.
‘You want me to fuck you?’
‘Y-Yes…’
‘I’m going to fuck you multiple times. I will ejaculate into you, multiple times. I will not let you lose any of it. You understand this?’
‘Y-Yess…’
‘It’s going to be rough’ he groaned, pressing the tip of his erect cock right against your sodden entrance. ‘Very rough.’
‘Yes…’
‘I will stop. But if you can take it—’
‘I can… take it, please, just… uh… do it’ you moaned.
Miguel sneered with pleasure. His pride bristled, and without wasting another second he spread your cunt with his fingers and shoved his cock inside.
You were winded by the force, and winded a second time by his refusal to start slow. The moment his erection slid up and kissed your cervix he was pumping like mad, grunting like an animal as he thrust his hips back and forth.
You were forced to moan into the sheets as you struggled to maintain any control. He was slipping himself all the way out, so far that only his bulbous member was left to stretch your entrance, before slipping back in within barely a second, stretching you out over and over.
You felt the soft walls stretching, expanding, tensing, and quivering in response to his intrusion, as he made your body his, as he molded you for his purpose.
And he made that purpose clear.
‘Need to… cum… Mmm… need to, fill you… put my baby in here…’
Miguel’s barely coherent grunts filled your ears as he bent your spine and slapped his pelvis into your rear, making the skin hot and raw where he hit it.
‘My… baby…. Mine… m-mine… you’re…. mine…!’
His grunting got wilder, rougher, and between that and your own moaning there was a third voice filling the bedroom. You glanced over, and through the sweaty strands of hair covering your eyes, you saw him.
Peter was watching, as promised, lazily spread out as he stroked and fisted his own cock. It was a gorgeous side, with his pajama pants just down to his thighs and his hand eagerly massaging his member.
And his eyes were fixed on you.
You felt the heat rising in your belly from this, as you were held down and pumped by that enormous, grunting, red-eyed man while his partner watched and stroked himself.
You made eye contact with Peter just for a moment, as he watched your sweaty face taking his partner's load, and with a shuddered groan he came.
You watched his eyes roll back and his lips part as he ejaculated into his own palm. God, what a pretty sight. There was so much of it, thick and slick and glossy in the dim light, coating his fingers and belly. It made you involuntarily clench your cunt around Miguel.
‘Y-You, AH-!’
You squeaked as Miguel groaned, his thrusts getting harder as he also climaxed. You felt his claws digging into your hips as he humped that first load in as deep as he could, ensuring it filled every damn inch of your pussy, smothering the walls until they were practically stuck together.
As he rocked to a halt you took a moment to breathe. There. That was good, he’d done it. And he—
‘Uh- come on!’
You squeaked in shock as Miguel began to rock his hips again, barely a second after he was done ejaculating. He continued to pump just as hard, pushing you face-first into the mattress as sweat flew from his brow.
‘Come on…. Come on…’
It was like a mantra he hissed to himself, as he overrode his brain's desire to rest. There was no rest. There was only breeding. There was only you, and that womb, that he NEEDED to fill.
‘Come on- come on- come on-‘
Your soft cries were barely audible over the creaking of the bed, over the aggressive slap of his pelvis as it thrust and smacked into your rear until it went numb.
‘COME ON- UHN—’
You felt Miguel’s whole body stiffen and release as he pumped that second load in. The hot, thick fluid seeped out and put even more pressure on your insides, forcing those soft muscular walls to strain. You squirmed a little.
‘M-Mmm, mm…’
No, no, you could take it. You could take it.
Miguel paused to grunt, his face now dripping with sweat and his thighs trembling from the pleasure of two ejaculations so close together, but even then he refused to stop.
You could only respond with a squeak as Miguel started pumping you all over again, violently rocking his hips as he pushed through the overstimulation and went for loads three.
‘AH! A-Ah—’
You tugged on the sheets so hard they nearly ripped as he thrust from behind, the smack of his hips letting out a dull, heavy thump that ripped through the room. He was groaning so hard, spitting and hissing involuntarily, his claws digging into your hips as he dragged you back against his cock.
‘Uh- uh- uh- uh- UH- UH- UH- !”
Thrust, after thrust, after mind-numbing thrust, until—
‘ARGH! F-FUCK!’
Miguel cried out weakly as he orgasmed for the third time in a row. He moved primally as he did so, his body bucking despite his exhaustion as he tried to pump it deep. You could only whimper.
You felt this load just like the others, in all of its terrifying potency. That thick, wet, hot seed spilling out and coating you from the inside, pressed right to your cervix with no escape. He was holding you against his pelvis and refusing to pull out, almost like some kind of basic form of knotting.
‘Hey, hey, big guy.’
As Miguel knelt over you, sweating and heaving, his chest dripping and slick, Peter crept up and gently gripped his shoulders. 
‘Hey, it’s okay. Take a breather’ he whispered.
‘Need, to… need to, prove…’
Miguel continued slowly rocking his hips, pushing past the overstimulation until his muscles were tensed and aching. He kept moving inside you, squishing until his cum started to slip out, which only drove him more mad.
He moved his hand down and used it to squish the little white drops back inside, all with his fat shaft still impaling you in place. You whimpered at the sudden extra intrusion.
‘Need to… Impregnate.. God, damn it..’
‘Miggy, hey…’ Peter continued stroking Miguel’s forehead as he continued rocking back and forth, pushing you until you whined. The pressure was immense. His cock, three loads
‘Give them a break, then.’
That seemed to snap Miguel out of his trance. He glanced down with those hazy red eyes and he saw you spread out beneath him, trembling from the strain of being taken so many times so fast. He saw the sweat on your skin, the shimmering glow on your skin, and the wetness of your parted lips.
Almost immediately he released his grip.
‘I… Mierda, I’m so sorry—’
‘No, I’m… f-fine…’ you whimpered. ‘I’m, not hurt…’
‘No, but, you are clearly exhausted’ Peter cooed softly. ‘It’s okay. If we really want to try again, we can, just… let’s rest.’
‘But—’
‘I know’ Peter whispered softly, his own melancholy seeping through. ‘I know. You both want this baby. A lot. I know. I want it too. But this isn’t going to change anything. So let’s just, rest for a moment, and go again. Okay?’
At that moment, Peter was the gentle voice of reason for both of you.
Miguel let out a soft grunt, but he did pull out slowly, making sure to keep his fingers and palm stuffed in the little swollen entrance between your thighs to keep his seed safely intact. You allowed your body to collapse into the sheets with a sigh.
His fingers made you jolt and whine on occasion, but, you could handle that.
The three of you lay back and moaned softly, trying to catch your breath, with Peter hugging both of you close.
As Peter held you, you couldn’t help but glance over at Miguel just a little, though you tried to keep your gaze hidden.
You were so confused by the insecurity you’d sensed in him. There was no other way to put it. Before he’d been so confident, so sure, so calm, like he was just messing around, but now… There was an urgency in his movement.
There was a need. That was the best word for it. But, it wasn’t just a need to get you pregnant. Not now.
There was a need to prove himself.
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essektheylyss · 2 days
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for the ask game: 🧡🖤💚
🧡: What is a popular (serious) theory you disagree with?
Until I see definitive proof that Ludinus is in fact as old as he wants people to believe he is, I will not believe it. I don't even really have an opinion on how old he is; I just don't think he's as old as he tries to suggest. And lest it be said that I am playing favorites, the thing about Ludinus is that he talks the way Essek talks in 91—and there are a lot of things Essek says at that dinner that I take with a good heaping of salt. It's this sense that they're talking around things that they would rather people not question; they're both very skilled at talking around things in a way where they aren't outright lying, but they'd rather you not think too hard about it because there's shit they're not saying. To be clear I also won't be mad if there does turn out to be some evidence in canon that he is that old, but thus far, there is nothing definitive, and I do not take the word of unreliable NPCs at face value.
🖤: Which character is not as morally good as everyone else seems to think?
I don't think this is really an unpopular opinion at this point, but Jester. Nice =/= good. I don't think she's evil, by any means! But her morality is a lot more complex than it's given credit for and I think it's one of the things that is most interesting about her. I'd actually consider her largely amoral; it's just not really an axis of consideration that she worries about. She doesn't want people to hurt her or her friends and she doesn't want something to destroy the world, but otherwise she doesn't really care much about what someone's morality is. "Just don't be evil to me" is an incredible sentiment for a reason. She cares more that Essek said they were his friends than the fact that he's the traitor they've been looking for. Ludinus is so insignificant to her despite his literally world-spanning evil plots that she has basically forgotten him six years later, even though two members of her friend group have spent the last six years trying to pin him down. Jester is hilariously amoral and I love that for her.
💚: What does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?
[cracks knuckles] OKAY, this is where I've got receipts, because hooo boy do I have an opinion and I will be proving it.
Essek does not have an opinion on the Prime Deities. He does not really have much of an opinion on religion. He actually does not by the end of the campaign have any real issue with the Luxon, and frankly he primarily expressed issue with the Dynasty's worship because, until he got to Aeor, he wasn't certain that the Luxon was a real entity at all—which he contrasts against the Prime Deities, in fact!—and he seems to believe there is compelling evidence in Aeor that categorically disproves his hypothesis that the beacons are simply constructed Age of Arcanum devices.
Originally he is mostly concerned that the Luxon religion is used as a "crutch" which is "distracting them from what other good things they could do with the time and focus". He does specify that any religion can be used as such, but he only remarks upon the one he knows. His theory about the beacons, as of episode 91, is that they may be "artifacts designed in the Age of Arcanum that have been misread" that could be put to even further use.
He also does parrot the Dynasty party line in their first meeting about the Luxon being "the basis of how we've been able to free ourselves from the binds of the lineage the Betrayer Gods left for us", and while I do not take him at face value here (see the above commentary about unreliable NPCs), I doubt the truth of this statement is lost on him, considering his familial connections to Bazzoxan, which I can only imagine would not exactly endear one to the Betrayers, though this is only conjecture. If we do care to take him at his word here, it's not unreasonable, since he obviously has a lot more interest in the power offered by the beacons than anything else.
With all that being said, his tune on the Luxon itself has at least changed by the time they get to Aeor. He discusses iconography found in Aeor and when prompted by the Nein about whether the beacons were created by mortals, says, "I do not believe that they are made by anyone but the Luxon. They are of the Luxon. But they've been around since the Luxon's been in Exandria, which is the beginning."
So we started with him largely apathetic to religion, uncertain if this god was real, and by the time we circle back to him, he has now sided fairly definitively with the fact that the Luxon is an entity that has been around since at least the Founding. (For those keeping track at home, this is longer than Predathos has been around. In the Dynasty's creation myth, it may also have been around before the Prime Deities arrived, which is technically not incompatible with the creation myth of Exandria at large, but I digress.) Like most of Exandria, and as is perfectly reasonable for both his culture and his region, he probably doesn't have any love for the Betrayer Gods, but doesn't express much opinion if any on the Prime Deities. He has no time for religion, but frankly, he doesn't have time for much except for his own research, so it's hard to really ascribe any noted contempt to that.
Like, look, I've written plenty of religious trauma Essek fic, and I don't doubt that that element of it exists, but overall, in terms of canonical statements, it's pretty tame.
With that being said, I do want to fast forward a bit to draw attention to something else. Because I actually do think he ends the campaign with some measure of respect for, at the very least, the Wildmother.
In 140 after the Raise Dead fails, he talks briefly with Fjord about the unfairness of it. Fjord passively directs him to "if you were to ask my wise friend Caduceus..." Immediately after this exchange, Essek challenges Caleb to not accept defeat, and admits he wishes there was more that he or any of them could do, but concedes that, "Unfortunately, this type of magic is beyond my purview."
Immediately after this exchange, Caduceus asks for divine intervention.
Of course, he then spends several weeks gardening in a temple to the Wildmother, and seems to find some genuine clarity and perspective there, but I think this alone is enough to argue that, for a person as driven by empirical evidence as Essek, this sequence of events in 140 would be plenty to earn a wizard's respect.
So my formal belief is that Essek is not in fact anti-god or anti-religion, let alone against the Prime Deities. My opinion is that it's very easy to imagine him on his post-campaign travels leaving a small offering at any shrine of Melora he might pass, not out of actual worship but as a sign of respect.
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redr0sewrites · 3 days
Text
Loki x reader General Hcs
this was... spontaneous! but i said i'd write for marvel and theres no better time than the present. PLEASE send in marvel requests🙏
🥀Cw: fluff, smut, switch!loki, little teensy bit of angst if u squint
🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion
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sfw:
loki is a naturally guarded person, and is very intelligent and clever. he's not one to let his guard down easily and isn't used to dealing with true romantic feelings, so you are obviously very special to him
loki is incredibly intelligent and good at reading people, along with being very charismatic. he's used to charming people to get his way, and he very, very rarely shows his true feelings unless he trusts you. he cares a lot about your opinion, and a part of him really, really wants to please you
at first, it's hard for even loki to tell whether his feelings for you are genuine, and he gets completely tongue tied around you. he wants to be around you all the time, and he admires you a lot
when it comes to actually dating loki, please be patient!!! he will only truly begin to let his guard down around you over time, and he believes that you'll only find him irritating. he definitely has a big "hurt them and push them away before they hurt you", type of mentality, and when he first realizes how much he cares for you he will probably avoid you for a little
everyone knows loki loves attention, and that is no different in a relationship. he is both touch starved and touch disgusted as he doesn't want to appear vulnerable, but craves any sort of intimacy that you offer
very thoughtful, and he remembers every little detail about you. you mention how much you like a certain candy? you miraculously find those candies in your room. you tell him about an important event coming up that you're stressing about? he reminds you about it the day before. you tell him your favorite gemstone? well, you better believe that every piece of jewelry he gives you includes that gem. loki knows your favorite song, your favorite book, your favorite movie, and any and everything else about you that he deems important. you live rent free in his mind 24/7
loki loves matching with you, and he loves when you wear his signature colors. he's always complimenting you and your style, and his heart flutters a little when you ask him what he's wearing for an important event coming up so that you two can coordinate
i don't even think i can pick a love language for him, he loves giving and receiving any form of affection and you two are probably attached at the hip
HE WOULD PASS THE ORANGE PEEL TEST. loki is absolutely the type to lace up your shoes for you, making a corny joke about how he "doesn't want you falling for anyone else". he uses magic to help you a lot, and especially loves your guys' night routines
loki is nooot a morning person, and loves snuggling with you. whenever you both have to get up in the morning he's always pulling you back into bed, nuzzling into your neck and begging for "five more minutes". he's also always very groggy in the morning and won't remember most of what he does when half asleep. he's very honest as well, and says lots of sappy things whenever he's sleepy. on the rare occasion that you sleep in later than him, he loves kissing you awake and pressing kisses all over your fave!
loki naturally runs very cold, but doesn't feel cold if that makes sense. to you his skin is absolutely FREEZING, but he just feels normal. however there are times where he runs insanely hot and there is absolutely no in between. he's either freezing or burning up, and it's both a little sad and a little amusing. there are times where the cold gets to him and loki will be more clingy than usual, claiming that he needs you to warm him up. other times he will practically walk around naked, too overstimulated and hot to even touch you
loki is a lot more anxious then he seems, and will sometimes just freak out over little things when in reality its a bunch of big things piling up one after another. he never ever means to take it out on you, and even when he's reached his limit he would never hurt you, but it can still be frustrating when he gets mad at you for a simple mistake. he always apologizes and takes accountability tho, and is very careful not to hurt your feelings bc he's very afraid you'll leave him. PLEAAASEEE REASSURE HIM :((((
loki is very chatty and loves talking to you about anything and everything. from in depth psychological conversations to simple "how was your day" conversations, he just cherishes getting to be able to talk to you
nsfw
look me in the eyes and tell me he's not a switch. i definitely see him as being capable of both being a dom and a sub, and i think it really depends on your guys' moods
when he's a dom, i think loki can fluctuate on how mean or rough he is. i do see him being a more degrading or rough dom but i also think he can be a lot softer as well, and more of a pleasure dom. again, i think it all comes down to your preferences
when he's a sub, loki is definitely bratty. he loves being put in his place and getting a little roughed up, but there are also times where he just wants to relax and be taken care of. when he gets in his own head too much and is irritated after a long day he'll be a lot more pliant and willing to just let you take care of him. PLEEEASSSE praise him and pamper him when he's like this, he'll melt like putty in your hands
PRAISE + DEGRADATION!!! BOTH WAYS!!!! he absolutely has a huge praise kink and definitely praises you a looot during sex, but i also see him being a bit mean with his praise and mixing in some degrading words as well. either way he's a wonderful dirty talker and he probably has a voice kink too, considering how often he whispers in your ear (and enjoys it when you do the same).
i also think loki would be into bondage, again, both ways. theres something so delicious about seeing you tied up and squirming from just his gentle touches, but it's equally intoxicating for him to be the one tied up and denied any sort of pleasure. he gets really whiny when you don't let him touch you, and will probably start pouting and begging. tying him up is defff one of the easiest ways to break him
guys hear me out but a candle wax kink. loki is very respectful and will always ask your permission before trying something new, but he loves seeing you whimper and moan while he slowly lets a few drops of wax spill onto your smooth skin. he also will let you return the favor, and the wax often hisses and steams a bit when it hits his skin because he's so cold.
marking you is definitely very appealing to him, and it's pretty self explanatory. loki just loves marking you and being marked up by you. it satisfies his slightly possessive and jealous side, and you two always look like you've been in a fight after having sex from the number of bruises, scratches, and hickies littering your body.
another relatively self explanatory kink, but, hair pulling. he looooves it when you pull his hair while he gives you head
loki is a major tease, and he loves teasing you in public settings where you can't do much about it. it will go from subtle things like placing a hand on your lower back or caressing your thigh to whispering absolute filth in your ears and making out with you in the bathroom. he is always trying to rile you up bc he knows damn well that it will lead to a night of rough sex
we all know loki's a shapeshifter and genderfluid, so i absolutely hc that he can change his physical body to match his gender. if he's feeling more feminine, he LOVES when uou eat him out. facesitting is def something he enjoys and he loooves riding your face SOO MUCH.
loki is very vocal, he def whines and moans a lot. he isn't shy about letting you know how good he's feeling. he knows how much his voice affects you and will whisper the filthiest things in your ear between moans as you fuck him senseless
aftercare is v important to him, and whether or not he's subbing really affects how exhausted he is afterwards. if he dommed he knows he can be pretty rough and he'll run a bath for you both before getting a towel to wipe you clean and then carrying you to the tub. i also think he'd prioritize keeping you well hydrated and would get you some water and food after the bath. loki is very clingy after sex and would want you as close as possible.
when he subbed tho, it's a totally different story. loki will be a clingy mess from the moment you finish, just whining and cuddling against you the whole time. depending on how deep into subspace he is and how groggy he is, he might even cry if you try to get up (even if you're just going to get water or a towel or sum) bc he thinks you're leaving him :(. he's pretty vulnerable after subbing and will probably just lay with you for a while before coming down from his high. once he's mostly calm and cognizant, he'll def want to clean up pretty quickly. he doesn't like feeling sticky and gross and also loves bathing with you!! overall he's a lot softer after sex and generally just wants to be near to you
RAHHHH I LOVE HIM SMMM!!!! he's so silly lmao this post got sooo long 💀 i also lowkey feel like im shadowbanned or something cuz like all of my posts have been majorly flopping recently :/ maybe im just not in a lot of active fandoms idk but!!!! anyways!!!!! hope u enjoyed!!!!!!! PLEEEASE FEEL FREE TO SEND IN REQUESTS FOR MARVEL, ATSV, OR ANH OTHER FANDOM I WRITE FOR!!!
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thinkingotherwise · 3 days
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Requested by: @chubypotato Hi love! First of all I love your styles !! I saw you do wind breaker so I was wondering if you could do how you would see kiryu as a boyfriend? Thank you in advance and keep writing please ❤❤
I'm happy to hear that and let me tell you Kiryu would be the sweetest boyfriend ever.
Mitsuki Kiryu being the sweetest boyfriend ever
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He certainly loved to cuddle and hug you any chance he got. And it could be any form of hug: front hugs, tight embraces, chest hugs, where he lays his head on your chest, or the other way around, and his favorite back hugs. He loved placing his head on your shoulder or on the top of yours. He liked the feeling of you in his arms and him basking in your warmth.
If you by any chance play video games, or mobile games get ready to spend even more time with him. He'd be willing to spend his school time playing on his phone and chatting with you. In the games you played together, the whole server would know that you are dating, because it would be so evident. He always helped you with difficult missions, gave you the gear drops that would match your character, and if it was possible to get married in the game, he would make you his instantly.
With Mitsuki as your boyfriend prepare for lots of dates. It would be cute dates to the cafes, especially the animal cafes where you can not only spend time together but also play with cute cats, dogs, or even rabbits. He would be your personal photographer taking so many pictures. If you ever said you aren't photogenic, get ready to be proven wrong. He'd certainly make you look like a star in the photos, he knew your best attributes and got his research to know how to make sure you looked perfect.
His favourite type of spring date would be watching cherry blossom together. You would walk through the alley of cheery trees. The petals falling around you and his hand holding yours. The both of you would take so many photos, with petals in your hair and watching them blooming all over the place. On that day he would change his lockscreen to one of these pictures with you smiling brightly right beside him. After walking you sat down on the blanket next to each other and as you watched the beautiful scenery around you, he held your hand in his lying on his lap as his gaze couldn't leave you. You always joked that he liked the dates because his hair matched with the cherry blossoms but truthfully he just loved watching your adorable face smiling and awing at the pretty setting surrounding the both of you.
Tags: @misticbullet
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cherriesformatt · 17 hours
Text
game day || matt sturniolo
matt sturniolo x fem!reader
summary: it's a game day and matt bought matching outfits for you to wear
warnings: fluff, a little bit of a dirty talk,
word count: 1,061
a/n: hi! I'm alive. I hope you will like this one. Matt in green is just jiqwehuherfuer. REQUESTS ARE OPEN didn't proof read yet
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🍒
"Literally its just me, you and Chris here, it does not need to look good baby" Matt said after I was changing placement of the strawberries on my board.
"That's why I hope Nick is going to actually join us because he is the only one who appreciate my snack boards" I looked at him while opening cupcakes.
"Hey... I love them do not listen to anything he says y/n!" Chris came from downstairs and intimately took one of the cupcakes.
I hit his hand gently and narrowed my eyes at him.
"Are you being for real now? Can I finish this at peace? Go put the tv on or do whatever or I am going to eat it alone" I looked at both of them.
'Yes, ma'am" Chris put his hands up for defense and took one last cupcake.
"I love love love you" He laughed and run to the couch before I could yelled at him.
"I feel like a mother of three in this house, I swear" I said and Matt just laughed.
"That would do it....considering how you like to call me daddy" He winked at me and I rolled my eyes but my cheeks went red.
"Go away Matthew" I said going back to working on my snacks.
"Just give me one raspberry and a kiss and I am gone" He came closer to me and wrapped his arms around me.
" I hate you" I said and picked up one of the berries and raised it to his lips.
"You love me..." He smiled, ate the berry and kissed my cheek before he went to his room.
"I am actually going to throw up because of you two" Chris said from the couch with grimace on his face.
"You should actually find a girlfriend so I can have a best friend to talk shit about you and Matt" I said finishing up.
"Thats why it is not going to happen...One of you here is enough and it’s not like you’re already talk shit about us with Nick" He joked.
I took my phone out to take pictures of the board. I tried different angles so it would look good.
"See how this is not fair because is three of you here and I need to handle that all by myself" I laughed and brought the board to the coffee table when I was done with pictures.
" Aw it looks so cute y/n! I would say I do not even care if Celtics will win anymore but that would be a lie" He said.
"Thanks Chris. Grab some drinks? I am going to change, Matt is making me wear green." I laughed and went to Matt's room.
Matt was on his bed doing something on his phone.
"Okay... I am done and I can wear whatever you said you have for me" I said closing the doors behind me.
"Yey... so I bought you shorts so you could match my jersey" He said and took out the nike shorts from the bag that was sitting on his desk. He was so exited about it that it put smile on my face.
That made me want to scream and shout. I can't believe that boy is mine. He was the cutest. He was already wearing the jersey with number 9. He looked so good in green and his hair was super fluffy today. I could eat him here and there.
"Matt you are unreal, I love you, did you know that? Thank you" I took the shorts from him.
"I love you too, sweet girl" He smiled at me.
I smiled back and took my black sweatpants and matching hoodie off. I had white top and black lacy panties on.
"I might want you to actually stay in this...." Matt said and sat back down on his bed looking at me.
"Yes... I don't know, you always rip them of me and then I am waiting for my favorite time of the year when Victoria does 10 pairs for 35 bucks" I winked at him and slid the shorts on.
They were a little too big for me but that was good. I loved the cute little clover on the front.
"I love this team only for the colors and the clover" I said and walked to my boyfriend.
"Mhm... I think I start to love them for that too" He smiled up at me and pulled me even closer between his legs.
He kissed my skin just over the waistband and I smiled how my body right away reacted with a goosebump. I ran my hand through his hair.
"Come here..." He pulled me down a little so I straddle him.
"Matt the game is starting soon and I am pretty sure that Chris already ate half of the snacks..." I started but he kissed my neck gently.
"Shh...." He said and I bite my bottom lip slightly tilting my neck.
"You just smell and look so good baby" He said and gave my neck one more kiss before connecting our lips together. I scratched back of his neck before I put one of my hands on his cheek while the other wondered up to his hair while we make out for what it seemed like forever. I was lost in his touch when Chris yelled at us that hame is about to start.
"Ugh...fine" Matt laughed and moved away a little.
"You look hotter than me in this jersey Matt..." I said fixing his hair a little.
" See we are just made for each other" He patted my bum so I stood up from him and fixed my own hair as well.
Chris yelled one more time adding that he is going to eat all of the snacks.
"Honestly I would rather eat something else right now"m…” Matt smiled at me when I opened the doors.
"Same man... but well… we promised Chris a dudes weekend" I laughed and walked out of the room.
"See thats why I hate living with them sometimes...." He said walking behind me.
We joined Chris in the living room to watch the game. I posted some phots of my board and the fit on my account as we enjoyed the winning of the team.
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misc-obeyme · 3 days
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for the drabble thing kinda 👉👈 (mostly be rambling per usual but could be an idea). I've been listening to music non stop at work and favorite record by fall out boy came on today
and there's a lyric that goes "and I confessed, confessed to you riding shotgun, underneath purple skies" and it screams mammon and mc to me. ALSO the rest of the song makes it sound like past tense/lost love/one that got away...angst potential too. Like reminiscing? Mc moved on but he never did.
I just like thinking about different ways he may confess, and if he'd just blurt it out without thinking? Or maybe he's hyped himself up, he's driving mc up to a hilltop to stargaze, he's got it all planned - and something mc does just makes him blurt it out
if it was something silly like turning on the A/C before he could finish asking them to, because MC just knows him that well, that would be hilarious
Mammon: hey uh, can you-
mc, already turning the dial: i got you
Mammon: i am in love with you.
- ✨ anon
also, partially related but Flu Game by the same band reminds me so much of nightbringer!mc and I could go on forever about it
Yes this feels very Mammon to me... blurting it out before he means to lol! I do like the angst of MC moving on, but he never did, too! That's some good potential right there.
BUT I did a drabble based on the rest of the idea, that he's taking MC to a hilltop to confess but doesn't quite make it lol.
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Mammon knows he has to tell you. It's been stewing inside him for a while, brought to his attention every time you meet his eyes, every time you say his name, every time you touch him or hug him or do something before he even asks. He's nervous to say it, but he won't risk losing you because he was too afraid.
He has it all planned out. What better way than to take you for a drive? Up onto the highest hilltop in the Devildom. Thinking about it makes his pulse race. He's on high alert all day, not able to focus on anything except the moment when those words pass his lips.
Mammon rehearses what he'll say. He thought about getting poetic, but in the end he decides it's better to just be straightforward. To be honest, to be true, to tell you exactly what he needs you to know, so there is no possibility of miscommunication. He chants it in his head all day. I'm in love with you, I'm in love with you, I'm in love with you.
You settle into the passenger seat of his Demonio like you belong there, riding shotgun beside him. He wants to say it right then, before he's even started the car.
I'm in love with you.
Mammon holds it in as you click in your seat belt and smile at him before turning on the music. It's a playlist you made together of all the songs you both love most. As you start singing along to the chorus, he wants to say it again.
I'm in love with you.
Mammon's eyes are on the road, but you are all encompassing. Despite this, he doesn't let his attention wander from the task of driving. He cares too much about you to be reckless.
He hasn't said much because he doesn't trust himself to speak. The road gets tricky as he starts up the winding cliff side to get to the highest hilltop. He can't look away from it, but he's sweating. He wipes quickly at his forehead.
"Hey, MC, can ya-"
"I got you," you say, already turning the dial.
His heart skips. And the words he's been repeating in his mind all day come bursting out. "I'm in love with you."
For a moment, the only sound is a soft song that has begun to play. Mammon's mind is buzzing, full of static at the shock of what he's just done, what he's said. He didn't even make it up to the hilltop.
"Er- I mean-" he starts to say, but it's too late.
He sees you reaching toward him in his periphery. He takes your outstretched hand without even thinking about it.
"I love you, too," you say, simply.
Mammon holds your hand like it's the only thing keeping him alive as he finally makes it to his destination. He stops the car and turns to you, taking in the way your eyes are shining brighter than all the stars and city lights streaming in through the windshield. He leans over to kiss you and the current between you is like lightning, brighter and more intense than any other light could hope to be. Wild, unpredictable, full of passion - just like him.
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weaveandwood · 2 days
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Midwinter in Waterdeep: Part Three
Gale/Tav | Angst & Pining | Read Part One | Read Part Two | Read on AO3
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Summary:
Over a year after their relationship ends, fate brings the couple back together for one too-short night.
The sun set and the moon rose in the night sky without a sign of Gale. She was once again confronted with her demons, whispering in her ear about his habit of getting so lost in his own work and focused on his own ambitions that he left her alone, adrift, and purposeless in the aftermath of their adventure and again now. Her only solution then had been to run, leaving him and the biggest piece of her heart behind. Those demons tugged at her another time. She wasn’t strong enough to resist them. I can’t do this. 
AN: The final installment is here! Thank everyone so much for all your support on this mini series. I hope you love it as much as I do, and I'm sorry for ripping out your hearts along the way. CN: Suggestive language, mild descriptions of panic
The first Midwinter was spent in reverence of each other. They watched the annual fireworks from his balcony and stayed up until the dawn began its ascent over the horizon. Hours were spent relearning each other’s bodies and minds after being strangers for so long. She spoke of her jobs, the contracts she accepted, the locations she visited as he kissed her neck in that one spot that was her undoing and his hands worked his way up her thighs. He spoke of his apprentices, new spells he was crafting, his colleagues turned friends while she kissed the faint remnants of the orb tattoo on his chest, her hand trailing down the line of his stomach. He worshiped her throughout the night and she accepted his offerings gladly.
While the sun rose, she lay in his arms, head on his bare chest as they made plans to spend next Midwinter together. 
Dangerous. Tempting. Stupid.
He cast an illusion to make it snow in what used to be the bedroom they shared, just to see the smile on her face that would no doubt satisfy him for another year. She kept the longing she had to stay with him locked away deep inside, remembering the tormented look on his face the previous night when he ran to her. She couldn’t be the cause of that again, she didn’t trust herself with his heart.
They both wept after they parted. 
**
The second Midwinter, they met in the market - the first time Gale had been in almost two years. They got sweet rolls and held hands as they walked to the inn he reserved for them this holiday. They barely got into the room before their bodies collided and their clothes ended up in a wrinkled pile on the floor, not wanting an inch of space to come between them on their one, too-short night together where she was his and he was hers, though both confessed there was no one else during their time apart. 
She asked for another illusion as he traced his fingers up and down her bare back, the muscles and small scars from so many adventures illuminated by the moonlight. He made the room fill with small glowing rabbits, her favorite animal. 
“You remembered.” “How could I ever forget anything about you?”
He gifted her a sending stone that was modified to only relay a signal when the pair were within a certain distance from each other, so he would know she was near, that she was safe at least one day a year. He kept its partner with him at all times - if not in his pocket, then within arm’s reach, counting down the days until he could feel the trace hum of magic that said she was close, that she was coming back to him. She always kept the stone in her pack or under her pillow as she slept in the wilds and reminisced about stolen moments in tents with him. 
***
The third Midwinter, the sending stone in his pocket flickered to life a day earlier than expected, before the sunrise. He met her at the gates of the city full of concern, but she relieved his fears by explaining she had extra time this year and could stay this additional day, if he wanted. Of course he wanted! He was elated as they walked back to the tower, but had to finish up the term today. He kissed her deeply and promised to be back by sunset, a familiar line she had heard plenty before.
Hours ticked by in quiet solitude. The walls of the tower closed in on her and the sounds of the city aggravated instead of soothed. The sun set and the moon rose in the night sky without a sign of Gale. She was once again confronted with her demons, whispering in her ear about his habit of getting so lost in his own work and focused on his own ambitions that he left her alone, adrift, and purposeless in the aftermath of their adventure and again now. Her only solution then had been to run, leaving him and the biggest piece of her heart behind. Those demons tugged at her another time. She wasn’t strong enough to resist them.
I can’t do this. 
The day had completely gotten away from him - he didn’t realize how late it had become as he rushed home after a long day of examinations and meetings with fellow professors. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of spending two nights with the love of his life, lost in memory and passion. 
He called out to her as he walked in, receiving no response. The tower was empty. His breathing quickened as he collapsed against the wall in the entry, sinking to the floor. A cold panic took over as he found himself alone, reliving that first day all those years ago. He ran his shaking hands through his hair, looking for a note, a sign, anything…and found no trace of her. 
She’s not here.
She didn’t come back that night. The next morning, he ignored the faint buzzing from the stone as he walked to Blackstaff to finish some paperwork before properly starting his holiday as he did every year, though this year it was more of a distraction than anything. He came home late to find a package on his doorstep - a small silver moon earring to wear in the empty piercing where Mystra’s symbol used to reside with a note that read “Be a moon unto yourself.” He could feel her watching but went inside anyway. He tucked the parcel in the same drawer with her ring and extinguished all the lights in his tower, wearily retreating to his study. 
She sat across the street from the tower huddled in her coat, crying through the fireworks until the early morning. Something broke inside her that night, deeper than what already was fractured. 
I’m sorry. 
****
The fourth Midwinter, he received a delivery at his office in Blackstaff Academy. Inside was a sending stone, almost exactly like the one he had gotten her two years ago. His heart beat faster - was she returning it? Was this goodbye? Had the last Midwinter ruined them? They hadn’t spoken but at times he felt his original stone humming, knowing she was near Waterdeep on a few occasions over the last year, resisting the urge to go to the gates each time for a glimpse of her. 
He felt the familiar crackle of magic as he inspected the parcel. No, this one is a different stone, he thought with relief, hearing her voice when he touched it for the first time.
I love you. I’m here. Meet me outside of the city if you can forgive me.
His eyes filled with tears, replying with the only message he could ever respond to her with.
I love you.
She smiled to herself as she heard his warm voice in her head. I love you. It was the first time they had said it to each other in so long - even before she had left him. A flicker of hope surged within her. She met him at the gates as the sun set, grabbing his robes and pulling him to her to kiss him deeply before he even had a chance to say hello. There was so much to say, so much to confess, and so little time. She took his hand and led him away from the city, deep into the woods off the main road where she had set up a tent for them, a campfire waiting. He moved to kiss her, to begin their usual dance of removing clothes and grasping at each other to stave off the chill in the air and the loneliness in their hearts. He longed to touch her, to feel himself inside her again. 
She stopped him. 
He listened as she told him about her next adventure on the other side of the continent. How she purchased the new sending stones because she wanted to hear his voice in her head every day when she would be so far from him. How after last Midwinter, she wanted to move forward and not spend every moment together thinking about the hurts of the past. How she realized the irony of her saying that while sitting in a campsite that was reminiscent of the one they shared all those years ago. How she was ready, finally, to offer more and hoped he would accept. 
“I love you, Gale.”  She’s real. “I love you, too.” She’s here.
The Midwinter fireworks from Waterdeep looked especially beautiful that night as they made love underneath them. 
*****
The fifth Midwinter, she met him at the gates of the city, his message this morning running through her head. Meet me at the gates at our usual time. I have a surprise for you. I love you. 
Every day they sent each other a message through the stones. Every first message ended with “I love you.” Every reply started with “I love you.”
He was practically buzzing when he saw her, drawing her tightly into his embrace, just as he did that night four years ago when she came back into his life by a chance of fate - and yes, after that night he most certainly was a bigger believer in fate. She was safe, she was here, and she loved him. He led her to the woods, the same spot she set up their campsite the previous year. In its place was a small cabin surrounded by wildness, enchanted to be invisible to everyone but the two of them. 
He needed her like air, but he refused to suffocate her with that need - not with traditional roles or expectations, not with her always having to adjust to fit into his life, his routine, his schedule, never the other way around. He wanted to fit into her life. She was the moon, she was the stars, she was the sky. She was precious to him, more important to him than even the Weave. He didn’t need anything but her - not his tower, not his accolades…just her. He loved her, and saw her, and understood what she was capable of offering. This cabin, he hoped, would be proof of that, and would be their home when she was between contracts, between adventures. 
She cried as he said all of this to her with tears streaming down his own smiling face. He held out the silver ring he had purchased for her all those years ago. She couldn’t believe he had kept it safe, looked after it as if he knew she would be back. They were different people then. They were different people now. After all this time, he remained devoted to her, steadfast, even as she pushed and pulled, clawing at the boundaries of his love. She believed him - for the first time, she felt understood. She was understood. He knew her, he was safe, he was here, and he loved her. She knew there could never be anyone else for either of them. He was her home. This was her home.
They kissed as he slipped the ring onto her finger. 
******
The sixth Midwinter, Gale found himself looking out the window of their cabin watching the snow while he prepared their dinner for the evening, replaying their messages from that morning in his head. 
I will be home at sunset. Will be with you for a month. I love you.
I love you. Please hurry back to me, I cannot bear to be apart from you much longer.
He laughed softly to himself. Home. If you had asked him five years ago, while he was bereft and reeling, what he thought home was he would have told you a study full of books, a desk littered with parchment, and a full wine cellar. Now? Home was the smile she gave him when he cast illusions. Home was the way she laid her head on his lap when he read to her, no matter the subject. Home was the way she brought him tea and kissed the top of his head as he stayed up late, working on new spells and theories by candlelight. Home was the sound of her voice calling his name as his mouth was between her thighs. Home was a tiny cabin hidden deep in the woods. 
He twirled the silver ring on his own finger, the twin to hers. He had felt the hum of the original sending stone only a few months after their last Midwinter, during Greengrass. He rushed to the cabin after classes were completed for the day, wondering why she hadn’t told him anything through their messaging stones, wondering if the original stones were malfunctioning. He had no sooner opened the door before she pulled him in and kissed him deeply. He led her to the bedroom, both of them shedding layers of clothing along the way as they reunited. Later that evening, she lazily ran her fingers through his hair as the dancing lights he cast hovered over them, lighting the room in a beautiful pale blue glow. 
“Marry me, Gale.”
They were married that week in a small ceremony, only Tara and Morena in attendance, though once word got out, many congratulations poured in from all over the Sword Coast. She had left later that week, and now she was finally coming home. He glanced at the bags he had brought from the tower, full of work and tomes, and contemplated putting them away before he felt his favorite hum of magic in all the world. 
She stood in front of their cabin, looking in through the window at him. Her eyes watered, whether from joy or the wind she couldn’t say, but she’d blame the wind anyway. Four small glowing rabbits hopped around at her feet and led her to the door. 
“Welcome home, my love.”
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What do you think about Hermione? Love her? Hate her? Any thoughts about her being given the time Turner? Because that's what made me dislike her. There's literally no way it makes sense for her to have that other than favouritism from Dumbledore. Because if they were really willing to give out time turners to any smart kid, Barty Crouch Jr. and Tom Riddle should also have gotten time turners.
Okay, there are two parts for this answer. The first part is that I got to defend Hermione on the Time Turner bit because it's not her fault Dumbledore plays favorites.
I'm pretty sure Dumbledore knew Sirius was innocent all along (or at least suspected it) and intended Harry and Hermione to have all the means to help him at their disposal.
“Dumbledore just said — just said we could save more than one innocent life. . . .” And then it hit him. “Hermione, we’re going to save Buckbeak!” “But — how will that help Sirius?” “Dumbledore said — he just told us where the window is — the window of Flitwick’s office! Where they’ve got Sirius locked up! We’ve got to fly Buckbeak up to the window and rescue Sirius! Sirius can escape on Buckbeak — they can escape together!”
(PoA, page 395)
They were still ten feet away from the forest, in plain view of Hagrid’s back door. “One moment, please, Macnair,” came Dumbledore’s voice. “You need to sign too.” The footsteps stopped.
(PoA, page 401)
The back in time Dumbledore, before he sent Harry and Hermione back in time, seems almost too aware of what's going on. Even though he hasn't sent them back in time yet. So, I'm suspicious he had a plan there.
“Where is it?” said the reedy voice of the Committee member. “Where is the beast?” “It was tied here!” said the executioner furiously. “I saw it! Just here!” “How extraordinary,” said Dumbledore. There was a note of amusement in his voice.
(PoA, page 402)
But even if Dumbledore didn't plan Sirius' escape and the Time Turner shenanigans, it's not Hermione's fault Dumbledore wanted her to have a Time Turner. Honestly, it's good she had it for Sirius' sake, but Dumbledore's favoritism isn't on her. I feel it's wrong to blame her for a decision that wasn't hers. It was Dumbledore's and McGonagall's decision to give Hermione a Time Turner and not to other students. We don't even know how common Time Turners are for students (my guess is not at all, and Hermione wasn't supposed to have one, but that's a different post), but it was still a decision completely out of Hermione's hands.
As for the second part, which is my opinion on Hermione:
I like Hermione, she isn't in my top favorite characters, but I do like her. She's interesting, adds contrast to Ron and Harry and I related to her a lot when I was younger.
I hate what the movies did to her. They stripped her of everything that made her interesting and made her this perfect figure who always knew what to do which Hermione just isn't. Hermione tends to panic and stress out in the books often. It's often Harry who comes up with last-minute plans under pressure.
And yes, she's smart, but she isn't always the cleverest or wisest (I'll say Ron has the most common sense in the Trio), and a lot of times she doesn't think her plans through (like with Umbridge, the centaurs, and Gwamp. She didn't plan anything other than not wanting to see Harry in pain). And that's an interesting character flaw for her to have. And she knows this about herself. I mean, she says herself there's more to magic than just reading books.
And book Hermione really loves Harry and Ron and appreciates their cleverness compared to movie Hermione who's just done with both of them and their idiocy constantly. Which is a disservice to the Golden Trio's friendship. All three are really smart in different ways. and the three of them know this (sorta, Harry has really low self-esteem so he doesn't think he's smart).
My biggest grief with Hermione's character in the books was always her complete faith in authority she trusts. Throughout the series, Hermione is the one of the Trio who always speaks up that they should trust Dumbledore and do what Dumbledore says because she respects him. Hermione, once she respects an authority figure, she tends to just have full faith in them and their judgment. And that really got on my nerves sometimes. But again, that's an interesting character flaw that contrasts Harry and Ron and creates an interesting dynamic. It's a character flaw that is an extension of Hermione's loyalty. I think her loyalty is a trait that is often downplayed too, but she is so loyal. Like, once she decides you have her loyalty you could do pretty much anything and she'll try to justify you. She'll make excuses and justifications so people she's loyal to are in the right.
And she does this justification with her own actions too. I like Hermione's ruthlessness that is so often ignored. She:
Set Snape on fire as a 1st year (but, yeah she loves all authority *sarcasm*)
Kept Rita Skeeter in a jar
Marietta Edgcomb (the curse on the DA parchment in general)
Came up with the DA coins and told Harry she got inspiration from the Dark Mark:
Harry looked sideways at Hermione. “You know what these remind me of?” “No, what’s that?” “The Death Eaters’ scars. Voldemort touches one of them, and all their scars burn, and they know they’ve got to join him.” “Well . . . yes,” said Hermione quietly. “That is where I got the idea . . . but you’ll notice I decided to engrave the date on bits of metal rather than on our members’ skin. . . .”
(OotP, 399)
6. Confounded Cormac McLaggen so Ron would get the Keeper position.
7. Basically everything she did in Deathly Hollows, I'm not listing all of it.
And there are more I'm probably forgetting!
The point is, Hermione is ruthless when she wants to be. She's not to be trifled with.
I think her loyalty, as I mentioned above, is a very distinctive trait of her character. She didn't have friends before Hogwarts (she was probably bullied for being a know-it-all. Like, it shows in her behavior) and she latched onto Harry and Ron and has been incredibly devoted to their friendship since. She's not only devoted to her friends but invested in keeping Harry and Ron as her friends (and each other's freinds).
And she actually is really smart. Yes, book smart, she can memorize books like a pro, but she's also a really good puzzle solver. From the riddle in the obstacle course in 1st year, figuring out the basilisk, finding out Lupin's a werewolf, figuring out Rita's Animagus form, etc... Hermione is really good at organizing information and putting the puzzle pieces together. And that's before I mentioned her magical talent, from brewing Pulyjuice Potion (a complex and advanced potion) in 2nd year in the girls' bathroom to usually being the first in class to get spells right.
Hermione's desire to know everything, as I mentioned in another post, I think is an extension of her desire to belong. She arrives in a new world as a muggleborn, and she takes each and every chance she gets to learn about the Wizarding World. To appear as if she was always there. Because she wants to be a witch so badly she doesn't mind Obliviating her parents and sending them to Australia.
I have more thoughts, but I'm just blabbering...
So, Hermione, while not in my top five, is an interesting and flawed character that I like a lot.
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magpiepills · 2 days
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Made Me Love You
Chapter 2
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Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ ONLY! MDNI
Pairing: Tommy Miller x AFAB reader, Joel Milled x AFAB reader
work count: 3.7
Summary: you and Joel are left to your own devices after a night of debauchery with Tommy and emotions run high.
Warnings: smut, PIV, Unprotected sex, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, infidelity, size kink, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, cum eating, feelings, angst. No use of Y/N no established age gap, no physical description of reader, angst, etc.
A word from the author: this is a repost! I don’t normally like to get too plot heavy because I prefer to jam-pack my writing with wall to wall smut, but I didn’t think I could continue this story without some plot. Don’t worry, though, it’s still plenty explicit. I think I may have one more chapter in me to finish out this story, maybe two. I can’t make promises, though. If you see spelling and/or grammar mistakes, just ignore those. I write all this on a phone with a broken screen. Hope you enjoy! Big kiss to the ✨magic sluts✨ for the inspiration.
Tommy didn’t wake you before he slipped out for a long day checking over a new job site. He had left you sleeping peacefully, alone in the bed you’d shared, where he and his brother had both fucked you thoroughly last night. Your sleep was deep and dreamless. Just like you had wanted, and you awoke slowly, tangled in the sheet, naked and warm. You looked around and let the memory of the night before play back in your mind. It made your heart ache. The room was quiet and still, with sunlight slanting in through the curtains. When you rolled over, Joel was there, in his own bed, face squished into his pillow, looking at you as if waiting for you to tell him what to do, but you just met his gaze and looked into his eyes for a while across the narrow space between your beds, each of you at the end of an invisible tether.
Joel had woken up early, he never slept well but it was pointless to even try after what had happened.
“Hungry?”
“Mm. Coffee maybe.” You kept the conversation simple, not wanting to get into the messy tangle you’d tied with him last night at 8am. You stretched, arching your back into the mattress. You realized that you were still naked under the sheets, and debated asking Joel to hand you your robe but the little part of you that liked teasing him won out, and you slipped out of bed naked to saunter to the bathroom. You didn't check to see if he was looking.
You took a long shower, repeating your routine while replaying everything that had happened in your mind, remembering everything they had said. Everything Joel had said. You didn’t regret it exactly, but you hadn’t given any thought to how things would be between the three of you now. Part of you hoped you’d never speak of it again, never acknowledge it, wipe the whole thing from your memories, only revisiting it when you were all alone and certain that no one could hear you thinking. Another part wanted every night to be an encore, the three of you falling into an easy rhythm of generous sex in dim hotel rooms. That couldn’t happen, though. Another part, a quiet part, wanted Joel to be all yours- wanted him to be the one you would go back home with.
By the time you clicked off the bathroom light, everything was made up in your mind. Last night didn’t happen, there would be no repeat, no need to talk it over, and everything would be just as it had been before. It was easier that way. No proof anything had ever happened existed. If anyone found out it would be because Tommy or Joel had told. You would deny the whole thing, play it off as an inside joke and let them sort the betrayal out for themselves. It was the only option that could make sense, even if it made your chest ache a little, knowing that Joel was everything you wanted and would never have. Not the way you really wanted him, anyway.
You finished primping, put on some sunscreen and your favorite purple swimsuit, and went in search of your book to read by the pool.
Your resolve nearly shattered before you could make it out of the room. Sitting on your bed, next to your book, looking warm and inviting in a dark blue t-shirt and cargo shorts, holding an iced coffee as if he had dropped straight from boyfriend heaven, was Joel. Damn him. He smiled and held out the coffee, and you wanted to melt into his chest. Damn him. “Got donuts too.” His voice was soft and gentle, like he worried he would frighten you away. His eyes are so big and dark and soft and full of things he wanted to tell you. Things he would tell you later.
Your plan hadn’t included a section on explaining to the brothers that none of you were to speak of the event, and were to act as if it were a strange dream. You flipped your book out of the way and sat beside him, hoping that your nerves would settle with some caffeine. Your plan didn’t include him looking this good, either.
“Thanks. You didn’t have to do this.” You tried so hard to sound casual, like you hadn’t cried his name into his shoulder while he fucked you better than anyone ever had before, and that you weren’t still dabbing his cum, commingled with his brother’s from your pussy. He clearly didn’t get the message from your tone, because after he handed you a donut, his hand was on your thigh in an impossibly casual gesture of intimacy.
“I should be taking you out to breakfast after last night.” His voice was an octave lower, and slower. Oh no. “We don’t have to… we can…we could act like that didn’t happen.”
“Is he good to you?” So much for that.
“Yeah, Joel. He’s good. It’s good.”
“He’s away a lot.”
“It’s his job. He’s got to be at the sites. You understand that. You’re away working a lot too.” You can hear the waver in your own voice. You can hear how it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself.
“I’m here now.” He said, moving a little closer and gently dragging two thick fingers back and forth across your shoulder.
“We should go to the beach. Make a day of it. Tommy said he wouldn’t be home until late and I don’t want to waste a nice day like this.” He made it easy to read between the lines. “How late did he say?” How much time did you have alone with Joel before Tommy came back? “Six. Maybe later. He’s going to a meeting with the building inspector. We have the whole day.” His eyes searched your face, desperate for you to understand him. Last night wasn’t enough for him.
He watched as you dug through your drawer for the swimsuit you wanted, admiring the soft curves and slopes of your body, greedily staring at all the things he'd only imagined before. Once you were tied into your suit, you turned to Joel and saw he’d changed into the ugliest trunks you’d ever seen in your life. “Joel ..” you gawked at him, they looked too big and the pattern was a garish yellow, blue, and black pattern that your brain couldn’t even make sense of. “What? What’s wrong with them?” He ran his hand over the front, adjusting his half hard cock in the mesh lining, watching you watch him touch himself. “Nothing. Ready to go?” He pulled on a stretched out white t-shirt, zipped a key card into his back pocket, and you slipped out of the hotel into the morning sun. You walked up the beach, avoiding the most obvious topic, and falling into comfortable silence. Your mind swam with conflict. Thoughts of Tommy, your relationship, and how what you really wanted was to stay in the room and fuck Joel again.
When you made it down to the beach, Joel held the little cooler he’d packed in one hand, and took your hand in the other while you carried the bag with your towels and sunscreen. You walked further, looking for a more secluded spot away from your hotel and his arm was around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. It felt so natural to be with him like this that you could easily ignore everything that was wrong. Finally picking a place to set up for the day, Joel rented an umbrella and you laid out the towels side by side, making a solitary little island in the sand for the two of you to live on disconnected from reality for as long as possible.
You took turns rubbing sunscreen into each other. He started with your back, then slid down your arms. He took his time on your chest, his fingertips dimpling the plush swell of your breasts, dipping under the fabric of your top, watching intently how your body responded to his touch. Marveled at how your nipples were hard and pressed against the triangle of your top. Satisfied with his work, he guided you to lean back into your elbows. He squeezed more Hawaiian Tropic into his palm and spread it across your belly. You could have done this yourself, but he didn’t stop and you wanted every bit of contact you could get today.
His touch was tender and slow, working his way over your hips, thighs, calves. He felt like he was getting away with something when he touched you like this. When he was done he handed the bottle to you and laid on his stomach. You straddled him and as you slicked him up, making him smell like an island god, you teased him. “I should leave a bare spot in the shape of my initials. Give you a sunburn tramp stamp.” He scoffed, “Do it. Brand me. Then I’ll put my name on you. Once my name’s on it, it’s mine.” He squinted up at you with one eye and gave your knee a squeeze and rolled under you to lay on his back, his new position letting you feel his hard length against your pussy. You rubbed your core against him as you covered his chest in SPF 50, admiring the freckles that made constellations over his shoulders.
When you were done you moved off his lap, pulling away from his grasp. You took a nectarine from your bag and took a few bites before Joel held your wrist and pulled the fruit to his mouth, holding your gaze he took a bite right over where yours had been in what felt like a small, but profoundly intimate act.
“Come swim with me.” Joel was a strong swimmer, and it was one more thing about him you liked. You always knew you were safe with him. He always knew what to do, he stayed calm, he was strong and big and decisive. Tommy was a good swimmer too, but you knew he couldn’t save you if you were in danger.
Out as far as you could go in the water, you swam, paddling over the waves, floating on your backs, diving under or getting knocked under by early breakers. Joel was always there to turn you right side up, helping readjust your swimsuit while you got your bearings. When it felt like it must be lunch time, you motioned toward the shore. He hesitated, then wrapped his arms around you and took you a little deeper and kissed you. He tasted like saltwater and the nectarine you’d shared.
He held your hips,and pulled you close until his thigh was between your legs, letting you feel how hard he was. No one could see you and no one could stop you from grinding against him, aided by his big, strong hands now palming your ass under your swimsuit. Joel kissed your neck, and slid his right hand over until his fingers covered your pussy, making you whine at the sensation and tighten your grip on his shoulders. He kissed your ear and spoke into it, sounding equal parts surprised and proud. “Wasn’t sure I’d get to touch you like this again, but I think you want it.” He was getting bolder in the privacy of the water. “I think you wanted this before.” He emphasized his point with another firm press against your increasingly sensitive folds. If this was an interrogation, you were folding. “Yeah. Yes. Wanted you before. Wanted this.” You reached between your bodies into his stupid, ugly trunks and found him hard. You stroked him as he continued his ministrations and breathed into your ear as you told him how you’d thought of him when you were alone, making yourself come on your fingers. How you’d pictured him instead of Tommy when there was a cock spurting down your throat, and how you wanted him to overwrite all of your memories and color himself in their place.
He had enough. He pushed you away from his body, and pulled you slowly to shore, taking time to think of baseball, gravel, traffic, bugs, anything to draw the blood away from his cock long enough to get back to the hotel. Back on land, he threw his towel around his neck and wrapped you in yours, rushing you back toward the room the two of you shared with your boyfriend. The walk was silent and heavy with anticipation. Joel kept you tucked tight against his side. In the elevator he took your hand and squeezed it tight, looking down at you and not bothering to hide his desire, but still silent. It was a long ride up. Every time the doors opened and closed, letting other guests on and off at their floors you wanted to scream. Finally, finally back at the room, you barely made it in the door before he was crowding you against the door, holding you, trailing wet, open mouthed kisses over your neck and jaw, before gently pushing you onto your knees. “Just for a minute. Please. I’ve gotta see your lips around me again.”
You liked how he looked when he begged. You made a show of looking up at him as you tugged down those hideous trunks, letting his cock spring free before your face. You grasped the base and gave him a few light licks up the length of his shaft, kissed the blushing head, then wrapped your hand around his shaft to gently pump him while you lavished attention there. His foreskin was smooth and soft on your tongue and slipped back and forth just a bit with your movements. You dropped both hands to your knees and took him further, slowly down, slowly back up, letting him hear you breathe, holding his gaze. He was babbling half coherent praise as you sucked “yeah, just like that. Fuck. So good. So fuckin’ good. Look at you.” You thought he would come in your mouth, but instead he pulled you up and walked you backward toward his bed, guiding you onto your back.
He leaned over you, boxing you in with a muscular arm on either side of your head and a knee between your thighs, tantalizingly close to where you needed to feel him most, but frozen by the charge in the air between you. Joel was looking down at you with a look of menace and tenderness, want and victory. It made your pussy ache. He watched your chest rise and fall, the flush that crept up your chest and neck giving away how needy you were for him.
“Take this off.” He pulled at the strings of your top while you untied the bottom and dispatched it across the room.
He wanted everything all at once. “Hands and knees for me, angel. Come on.” He urged you and helped you position how he wanted you, legs spread wide and back arched in lewd presentation. “Perfect. You’re perfect.” He held you steady with both hands firm on the globes of your ass as he leaned down and licked a broad stripe from your clit to your entrance, taking his time to taste you before retracing his path, firmer this time, pushing his tongue inside you, bringing his thumb to your clit to stroke it softly. Pulling his mouth away, Joel watched himself use his thumb to spread your wetness all around, loving how you wriggled and sighed. “You’re a mess. So wet. Look at that.” He sealed his lips around you once more and sucked firmly on your clit, making you cry his name while your thighs quaked in an all consuming orgasm.
You sank into the soft bedding and caught your breath as he rubbed up and down your thighs. “Fuck me, Joel. Please.”
“Yeah? You want that?” He asked, almost surprised. “Yeah. Ok, baby. Anything you want.”
He stroked himself and notched at your entrance, pushing inside slowly so you could adjust to his size. You whined at the stretch and groaned when he was fully seated, Joel stilled there, letting you feel his weight, his heavy cock, and kissed your jaw. “I don’t think I can let him have you back.” He didn’t give you time to absorb what he was saying, he pulled back slowly, then thrust forward a little faster, angling his hips to grind his pubic bone against your clit while letting him watch himself fuck you. His filthy narration had you on the edge.
“I love how you take me. Squeeze my cock so fucking tight.” He moaned into your shoulder, a deep, rough sound, he had to stop himself from sucking dark purple marks into your neck. “Look so pretty on this big cock. Gonna come for me one more time?” Joel kept his pace and babbled to you, letting one hand wander to your tits to brush over your sensitive nipples, or down to grab your ass and pull you tight against him. “Won’t last much longer, baby I’m sorry. Where do you want me?”
You really wanted him to come inside you. Wanted to feel it again, wanted a filthy souvenir dripping from you later while you were laying in bed with Tommy. But you weren’t ready for that conversation, so you said simply “not inside.”
Joel nodded, understanding that he couldn’t make the decision for you, so he just hitched his left leg under your hip for better leverage and drilled into you hard and fast. The angle let him hit just perfectly over that spot inside that made you see god. Your orgasm hit hard and it was all Joel could do to pull out and rut against your mound, smearing cum between your naked bodies.
Rolling off of you, Joel went to fetch a towel. He let you use it first, but you swiped a finger through his spend and brought it to your mouth, tasting him at last. There may as well have been stars in Joel’s eyes as he watched.
It was still early, 2:30 when you got into the shower and Joel went out to bring back lunch. Alone again under the hot spray, you thought. You thought about Tommy, about the perfectly adequate life you had together for the last eight months. He was good, he took you out, he was a generous lover, he has friendly and optimistic and he was so, so into you. And you liked that. But he was also immature, drinking a lot, getting into fights, losing jobs until Joel let him come to work at his small company. You wanted to bend time, make it so you met Joel first.
When you got out of the shower it was a bit of deja vu. Younfreshly showered, Joel waiting to feed you. This time it was a sack from Five Guys, and a big cup of sweet tea. Exactly what you needed. You and Joel talked while you ate, avoiding the obvious topic, and instead talked about movies you liked, books you had read, music you listened to, Joel told you about things he was doing to his house, a fixer-upper he had bought recently. “Maybe when we can get back you can come over and see. Give me some paint colors that would look good. ‘M not good at that part. Needs a woman’s touch I guess.” You dug a few fries from
The bottom of the bag and drifted away for a second to a reality where you and Joel could live together and be together and everything worked out for the best. Then you just nodded. “I’d love that.”
After Joel showered you only had about an hour until Tommy was expected back. You made the most of it, naked under the covers in Joel’s bed, legs entwined, mouths melded together while he made you come again on his long, thick fingers. “We don’t have to tell him anything, sweetheart. This can be whatever you want. I don’t want to make all this hard for ya. I won’t say anything to him if y’dont want me to. And if y’do I’ll handle him. Been handling him his whole life.” Joel looked pretty like this, naked and warm in the white hotel sheets with his tan skin and freckled shoulders, his big dark eyes, his pretty sloping nose and his untamable curly hair. “I want you, Joel.” Your voice was soft and light, he almost wasn’t sure he heard you. “Tell me again. Slowly.” You said it louder, you said it again, you said it as you kissed him. Joel beamed as he hugged you right to his chest and kissed you once more, pouring all of his unspoken feelings into you the best he could.
You’d just barely gotten buttoned back into a pair of shorts and tank top when Tommy came into the room. You went to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smelled like sun and sweat and dust. He pulled you up to him in a deep kiss that trailed down your neck, and cupped your ass with one hand. “Missed you today, baby.” “Missed you too, Tommy.” You nuzzled into his neck as you spoke, since again letting your imagination shape shift him into his brother. His brother who was out on the balcony, with your scent still on him. “Where’s Joel? What did you do with him today?” It was an innocent question, but you felt guilty as you quickly glanced around the room, afraid that there would be some glaring sign that would tell him you spend the day fucking his brother. Of course there wasn’t, but Tommy noticed the way you tensed and shifted his weight to one foot, cocking his head to the side. “Something wrong?”
“No, just uh, just hungry.” You lied.
Tommy studied your face in silence before kissing the top of your head. “Go get changed and we’ll go get some dinner. You nodded, relieved to have any suspicion out of Tommy’s mind for now. You weren’t even sure if he would be mad. He had enjoyed seeing you with Joel last night, so maybe you should just be honest about fucking him today. You rolled the idea around in your head as you put on your dress, and Tommy picked up the damp piece of purple fabric from the floor at the end of Joel’s bed.
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