Tumgik
#let's settle on a name soon please
runa-falls · 9 months
Note
FREE USE WITH MIGUEL? LIKE ANYWHERE ANYTIME?
a/n: YES NONNIE, ANY--FUCKING--TIME. AND HERES ONE OF THOSE TIMES :^) idk if this is free-use or feral!reader or both. anyway, just enjoy it lol. like every time, this got away from me
special thanks to mona (@whatthefishh) for letting me scream this shit to her over discord + for helping me figure out exactly what 'free use' is lol
cw: smut (18+), free use kink, small very small bit of somnophilia (CAN'T ESCAPE IT), non-explicit oral (m-receiving), afab!reader, mentions of ovulation (+ period) horniness, fingering, cockwarming, fucking w/ multiple orgasms, the same Spanish pet name used over and over, reader is basically a bothersome cat, writer is so all over the place it's confusing.
wc: 2.4k (this was supposed to be a quick thot but wtvr)
---
miguel is a gracious boyfriend, he practically lives to please you. so when you approach him in the middle of the day with nothing but his shirt draped over your figure, he has a hard time rejecting your advances.
sure, he tries, but every time he gives you what he wants.
you're spoiled, really.
miguel works at home as much as possible. he hates having to leave you before the sun rises, walking away from a perfectly cozy bed and wet cunt (😳).
miguel convinces himself that Spider HQ can survive a day or two without him on site. he has several capable Spiders that do most of the heavy lifting for him and LYLA isn't afraid to take charge, sitting her holographic ass in the boss' chair.
he can set up mission plans and keep track of everything from his laptop, and he's always on call if he is needed for anything. the only issue is that working remotely doesn't work when he can't get anything done.
he's trying to go over notes from a meeting that was held earlier this morning.
he was supposed to be there, but you physically wouldn't let him out of bed. he swears you're a Spider yourself with the strength you have when you're especially needy and sleepy.
he smelled it when he woke up in the middle of the night to you mouthing over his boxers, that decadent sweetness that indicates you're ovulating.
you were desperate to get a taste of him, to fill that unbearable emptiness inside of you, whimpering with relief when you finally feel his fingers bury themselves in your hair to push your further against his bulge.
he learned early in your relationship that your insatiable appetite for him increases tenfold during your window of fertility (don't even mention your period). and so does your need for sleep. so he caters to your needs accordingly.
you passed out after convincing him to fuck the heat out of you, to snuff out the fire until your neediness recedes. apparently, the only time you aren't horny is when you're sleeping (though that isn't true... you wake up horny all the time??).
you've been sleeping soundly ever since, utterly exhausted by his thorough support, but he knows that once you wake up, you'll be crying for him again.
he crawled back into bed with you after telling LYLA to take over for the day, but after a few hours of almost suffocating because of the way you curl up on his chest like a cat, he got up to get some coffee and finish some computer work.
as soon as his warmth left you, you fussed. eyes still closed as you whined and moaned for his body. he shushed you, gently smoothing down your bedhead until you settled.
it didn't last for long.
you padded out of bed with bleary eyes, clearly looking for him when you walked into the living room. he offered you a quick "morning, cariño." before focusing back on his computer. he had to limit as much contact with you as possible if he wanted to finish his work.
just a few more pages and a couple of emails, and then he can give you all the attention you need.
his shirt brushes against your thigh like a summer dress as you make your way through the room.
he looked adorable with his loose white long sleeve on and black dad-glasses. his hair is still curly and fluffed, telling you he wasn't planning on leaving you anytime soon.
you shuffle over to the couch, sitting next to him with a sigh.
he doesn't react.
somehow, the minimal recognition that you're there, his adamant refusal to look at you, turns you on as much as it irritates you.
he's really trying his best to be a good boss, hm? trying to resist a temptation that's barely a foot away from him.
it makes you feel dirty and deprived. you blatantly rub your legs together, urging him to look. your gaze washes over his sharp jawline watching as it clenches at your soft coos.
"...baby."
"'m working, amor." his voice is still soft, despite the efforts he's taking to ignore you.
you huff.
"but--"
"not right now."
you scoot closer to him, strategically allowing the hem of his shirt to ride up on your thighs. so he's really going to make you do it...
you tug at his sleeve, taking his arm away from his work (though it doesn't look like he was working on much at all, he's been sitting on that exact page for 5 minutes now).
"not right now, mi vida..." he protests lightly, but he doesn't move away. he's not even trying, you think.
you smirk at his empty words. you can see the way he's looking at you: your messy hair, bare legs, the shadow of his shirt hiding away your most sensitive spot. his breathing grows heavier and so does his stare.
"i have work--" miguel is always so soft and sweet to you, melting in your hand though he has all the power to stop it.
"please, miguel? just one, for me?" his lips part as you place his hand against your bare thigh, slowly dragging it upwards until it meets your center.
he doesn't take his hand away, doesn't even pull back a single inch, instead, he instantly complies, cupping his warm hand over its entirety. he chokes out a low groan. you're not wearing anything underneath.
"ok, i guess if it's only once..." he whispers, already breathy. he's leaning over you, almost on top of you, forcing your legs to spread impossibly wide.
he watches as his finger rubs against your slick center, spreading your wetness until you're glistening for him under the late morning light. he pushes in slowly, so slowly, eyes flicking up to your face to witness the small o your mouth makes as he presses in deeper.
his mouth waters as he fingers you, he wishes he had enough time to go down on you, and taste your slick straight from the source. he knows how much you love it when he fucks you with his tongue and suckles on your clit. but no, he has work to do. he needs to get you off so he can finally focus.
"this what you needed, cariño?" it's all but growled into your space, his voice low and taunting. all you can do is nod with bleary eyes as your hands grip onto his thick bicep for support.
he adds another finger and thrusts them into you quicker, angling them just so his palm can gently nudge at your clit. he can feel you tightening around him already, fluttering with each pass that he makes against your g spot. he presses harder, drinking in your choked gasp and shaking thighs.
you're so wet, spilling over his fingers and dripping against his hand. the noises between you are deafening. a mixture of sopping thrusts, heavy breathing, and quiet mewls fill the still silence of the living room.
he's so good at this, too good at this.
how can he make you fall apart with just his hands, caress every sensitive nerve with a single stroke?
you're at the cusp of euphoria. your body, filled to the brim with pleasure, urges you to let go, to take what you want. but you don't want to. you want to stay at the edge forever with his hands on you, to be at the center of his affections, always just one breath away from transcendence.
you're not ready for him to stop touching you anytime soon, you realize. you still need it and after you'll need it again. you need him.
his glasses start sliding as he looks down at you, dropping until they're barely at the tip of his nose. he's focused, eyes locked on how he fills you again and again.
his fingers speed up, expertly aiming against that special spot inside of you. your hips rise from the couch, needing him as deep as possible. then it all falls apart.
you cry out, back arching and eyes rolling. your body is barely touching the couch under you and it feels like you're being lifted up by unknown forces as you reach your climax. white fills your vision and heat thrums through your limbs. you can't hide your one orgasm from him, it's too intense.
before you could recover, he slips his fingers out of you.
"alright, honey, we're done." he casually sucks your essence off of his fingers before propping his glasses back to the arch of his nose.
"ok, ok, i get it. you're busy." you pant, still pulsing from your high. and...he's already back to work. he wasn't kidding when he said he had stuff to do. "i'll just...be sitting here."
so you watch him get back to work, or you try to. the incessant scrolling, typing, reading, and muttering thoughts that accompany his work is usually enough to put you to sleep. it's an unusual lullaby that's attached to him. one that brings you the comfort of knowing he's near.
but he's hard.
he seems so relaxed, so content to work, but his erection presses so desperately against his sweats, outlined perfectly by the grey fabric.
so how could you not touch him? he clearly needs your help... and if he doesn't, then you need it.
you want to be good, you do, but when he types so effortlessly like that with the fingers that were just stuffed in your cunt, or when he looks over his dad-glasses to look at something like a hot fucking nerd, you can't help it.
it's been, what, 12 minutes? that's enough work for the day in your opinion.
you start slow, hesitantly, watching to make sure he's not looking at you (though he can clearly see you from his peripheral vision). you stand up on the couch right next to him. you're a bit unstable on the squishy cushions so you use his shoulder for support.
he looks over at you, confused as to why you decided to walk all over the furniture like a toddler.
you carefully maneuver over his arms to settle yourself on his lap. you're a koala around him, holding your torso to his, looping your arms around his neck and sharing your shimmering lustful body heat. he grunts when you scoot even closer to him, your bare pussy pressing entirely against his covered cock.
but he ignores it.
he doesn't say anything, barely even moves, and just continues to work. you pout a bit, but let him. you convince yourself that you're content with just sitting here and enjoying his company (despite the large distraction that pulses against your pussy, pressing so sweetly under your needy clit).
you listen to his steady heartbeat and slow breaths, the occasional sound of tapping keys. you nuzzle against the soft shirt that stretches over his chest. you're fine.
it's not like you're leaking all over his sweatpants, leaving a puddle at the apex of the fabric. you're not crying on the inside, so empty and fluttering around nothing. you're fine.
until you arent.
you lazily lift your hips above his, nearly head-butting his chin in the process. his arms lift to help you get settled, hands resting on your waist, as patient as ever.
you reach below you and he stiffens. he wasn't expecting you to--
your hand buries itself under his sweats, delicate fingers brushing over his erection. he breathes out your name when you squeeze him teasingly before pulling him out.
"what did i say?" he grunts, hand swiftly wrapping around your wrist. the words are lost on your ears as you caress the silky steel in your fist. it pulses at your touch. he needs this.
he says your name once more.
"you're working."
"then why are you trying to fuck me?!"
"i'm only going to sit on it." you give him an innocent look. you slowly lower yourself so your dripping center meets his before sliding your glistening lips over his hardness. "won't move or say a thing, promise!"
"cariño..."
"just wanna warm you, baby." you position him right against your entrance. "is that so wrong?" you lower yourself before he can say anything else.
you take him easily with how wet you are, and he fills you perfectly. he sucks in a breath at the feeling then growls out, "don't move."
well, you do move (is anyone surprised). you move a lot. but he moves too. harsher and more competitive. who the hell fucks competitively?
you moan over him, bouncing on his cock eagerly. his hands hold your waist, guiding your movements just how he likes it: fast and hard. his laptop, somewhere on the other side of the couch, is forgotten and probably long dead by now. so much for working at home.
you've cum at least four times already, but who's keeping count (you're not. you're so fucked out, you have to manually breathe now.)
he won't let up anymore. you asked for it and you're getting it.
"do i gotta fuck you to sleep, hm? is that the only way you'll leave me the fuck alone and let me work?"
you only admit now that you're eyes were definitely bigger than your stomach. you're practically drooling as he takes control once again, snapping his hips from under you, harsh and punishing. as if this is a punishment.
he has to carry you back to bed that afternoon. he couldn't just leave you on the couch, naked and shivering. plus you'd be a distraction with your bruised hips and fucked out cunt.
you murmur adorably in your sleep as your body unconsciously nuzzles further into his arms. he places you lovingly on the bed and you immediately curl up. he sighs, brushing your hair out of your face because he knows how much you hate it when it gets in your eyes or tickles at your nose during the night.
you look so cozy and comfortable. but so alone in this huge bed.
he debates laying down with you, only until you're in a deeper sleep.
maybe just a few minutes?
LYLA had a few choice words when he woke up in the morning....
12K notes · View notes
elizazone · 3 months
Note
um i NEED a baby fever felix fic please?? like the whole breeding thing has MY soul
Tumblr media
Oh, anon, you get it. You totally get the idea.
Tumblr media
𝕱𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖝 𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖔𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖇𝖆𝖇𝖞 𝖋𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗
Warnings: nsfw, breeding
Tumblr media
Tumblr media Tumblr media
:**:.☆*.:。:**:.☆*.:。:**:.☆*.:。:**:.☆*.:。:**:.☆*.:。:**:.
:**:.☆*.:。:**:.☆*.:。:**:.☆*.:。:**:.☆*.:。:**:.☆*.:。:**:.
Firstly, I just know Felix wants kids. He’s always imagined one, two at most. He was brought up on the idea that he needed to keep the family name alive, to have a son, an heir. I can imagine Elspeth keeping up this mantra throughout Felix’s life. Telling him it’s what he’s made for, it’s his duty as their son.
He would want to be the first. He would want to have a baby before Venetia (although i doubt she’d ever settle down).
But he would want to do it first. He would make the family proud.
He kept this idea up his whole life, he needed to settle down, marry and have a baby as soon as he could.
He looked all over for the right person, he knew it was you. As soon as he held your hand on the first date, he knew you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
Felix would bring it up with you frequently, little jokes here and there. Late night chats “what would you name our baby?” Type thing. But deep down you could tell it was what he truly desired.
He would confront you just before your last weeks at Oxford, you were about to enter the world.
We would lay down on the foot of your bed, looking up at you lovingly as you read over your notes. A feeling of ease in the air.
“Darling?” He looks up at you, that mischievous look in his eyes you’ve come to associate with lust. “Felix, baby, not right now”. He strokes your leg lovingly, admiring the tan you’d gained from the early summer sun. “No, sweetheart, not that” he laughs.
He looks up at you, grinning, “you know.. you now how we want to be married” he rolls over, gazing at the ceiling as he takes a drag of his long dead cigarette. He waits a beat, seeing if you’d reply. “I’ve been thinking. About our future.”
And that’s where it all began.
It took a long time to convince you, I mean, you were young. You were both very young. Yet you couldn’t see a future without Felix, he was your whole world. You couldn’t imagine marrying anyone else.
From then on, every time he’d fuck you, he’d have intent. He needed to have you, fully have you. He can’t wait to see you stuffed with his cock, it’s all he thinks of throughout the day.
He would hold off having sex sometimes, just to build up the tension. Because he knows that when he wants to cum, he only wants to do it inside of you. Deep within your pussy.
He fucks you hard. Like it’s his last wish on earth to knock up his princess. As he thrusts into you wildly, he imagined how godly you would look with a round, swollen belly. How absolutely delicious you would be, helpless, unable to cope properly without him.
With a hard grip on your hips, Felix fucks himself harshly into you, desperate to breed you fully. To fuck you stupid.
You can feel him falter slightly, his thrusts become erratic. He’s close. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer to you.
The thought drives him insane, over the line as he cums with hot ropes into your pussy. He fold over, caging you with his arms. His chest heaving. His body glistening, sweat beading down his chest.
“Fuck. Oh god- babe. You’re mine. Always mine, you always will be”
He throws forwards a few experimental thrusts and lets out a deep moan. “So fucking good for me”
You look so gorgeous, laying beneath him, completely still. Your pretty body twitching with pleasure.
And he refuses to pull out for so long. Making sure he knocks you up. Plugging up your sweet hole with his seed.
And then he realises, he will have to marry you soon too.
4K notes · View notes
gojoest · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 — gojo satoru
MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns used, wc: 3.3k, flashback of how you met (1st part of the fic, past tense used, then we jump back to present, divider used to separate the two timelines. both take place on his birthday btw), suguru makes an appearance (as satoru’s wingman :3), established relationship (you’re married & have a daughter), reader wears a dress, first time face sitting + riding (oral, f! receiving), pet names (baby, my love), he cums in his pants, breeding implied at the end (sort of, to avoid spoilers)
a/n: happy birthday to my biggest mental illness ♡
side note: if the story of how you met sounds familiar to you, please note that it was from one of my talk posts from a while ago & i decided to make use of it : )
Tumblr media
what gojo satoru wants — he always gets.
after all, it’s how he made you his as well.
Tumblr media
“satoru, you’re staring way too hard at her”, suguru nudged him on the arm.
“think she noticed, too?”, satoru chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, ears turning slightly red from embarrassment, unsure if it was because he got caught or that it was too obvious he was checking you out.
“very likely. i mean, it’s hard not to notice an annoying pair of blue laser beams persistently invading your space”, suguru mocked. “are you going to talk to her?”
“yes”, satoru firmly replied, without peeling his eyes from you, “i’ll ask her out, i think”
“hey, hey. slow down there”
“nope”, satoru shrugged, almost like a stubborn child disobeying his parent, “i’ve made up my mind — i really want to make her mine”
it was a pure coincidence, or some might say fate, that you ended up in the same restaurant — he was there celebrating his birthday with a small circle of friends while you were present to honor your colleague that had just gotten a promotion at work.
satoru’s eyes relentlessly followed your every move, every gesture, from the moment you walked in and settled on the table next to his. it was rather unusual for him to be this interested in someone simply upon sight, in fact, even desiring to pursue something with someone so immediately. it was always the other way around — women would flock to him because of his looks and peculiar behavior, and of course — his money — but he would turn them down without batting an eye. love and seeking romance were never a priority for him, he did not have time nor any interest in them. but here he was, contradicting himself, being blatantly distracted by your presence while somehow trying to simulate an active conversation with his friends, more than frequently averting his gaze to look at you, his brain busy coming up with a plan to get your number by the end of the night.
it didn’t take him too long to finally make his move. he stood up from his chair and walked over to your table, stopping right behind your seat.
“excuse me”, he leaned in, placing one hand at the edge of the table and the other — at the back of your chair, “hello”, his face mere inches away from yours. taken aback by the way he, a complete stranger, had the guts to get this close to you, you turned to face him with a questioning look.
“i felt like i would regret it for the rest of my life if i didn’t come say hi to you”, he spoke.
truth be told, despite being astounded and a bit put off by his approach, you were slightly intrigued. he was handsome, pretty even — like that one oddly eye-catching cloud in a sky full of thousands that you notice as soon as you look up. the white henley shirt he was wearing made the blue in his eyes pop even more, the v-neck revealing a little bit of his well-crafted chest, just enough to leave you tiny bit wondering about the ridges of his abs beneath.
as much as the scenery up close made your cheeks feel hot, his boldness rubbed you up the wrong way, too much to let it just slide, and you snapped. “is that so? well, now that you’ve said your hi, you can go back to your table and live with no regrets for the rest of your life”, you rolled your eyes skeptically, pushing his hand off the table.
“oh, i am sorry”, he chuckled, brushing his hair back with a hand, “but there are three more things i need to do before leaving, i’m afraid”
you raised an eyebrow, questioning.
“first, let me introduce myself — i am gojo satoru, also known as the man to be your boyfriend, then your husband, and then the father of your children”, he smugly said. your eyes widening at the audacity of his declaration that left you at a loss for words. “second, i hope you don’t mind introducing yourself as well — as you are to be my girlfriend, then my wife, and then the mother of my children — it’s only natural that i know your name”, he continued, “and last but not least — i am not leaving until you give me your number so we can make this all work”
wow. this man was really fucked in the head, you were sure of it — who in the right mind would speak such nonsense to someone they just met? “you have to be joking, right?”, you laughed in genuine disbelief.
“no. i am dead serious”, he replied in a heartbeat.
“is this your move? you pull this on everyone you find remotely attractive?”, you narrowed your eyes.
“actually—”, suguru interrupted, placing a hand on satoru’s shoulder as he approached from behind, “no”, he spoke. “believe me when i tell you this — he’s never been this smooth in his entire life. i know he probably came off a bit creepy, considering the boldness of his actions — hell, even i am creeped out because it’s pretty unusual for him to act like this”, he laughed, glancing at satoru to let him know that he got his back on this. “but, what i’m trying to say is — my friend here seems to really like you as i’ve never seen him be so intense and interested in anyone before. he’s also a birthday boy today — so could you at least give him a chance before turning him down so quickly? you can come sit with us before you make up your mind on whether you want to give him your number or not?”
you thought for a second, weighing the options in your mind — he was pretty, although he annoyed you a little bit by being all bossy and arrogant as if you were compelled to belong to him just because he said so. but there was just something about him you couldn’t quite put your finger on that made you question yourself. were you actually drawn to him? you could say “no” and never hear from him again, occasionally pondering over the what-if’s and should-have’s from this night; or you could say “fuck it” and see where this strange encounter goes, and live your life without regrets — as he would say. there — he was already getting under your skin…
“well”, you sighed, “guess i’m down for that”
by the end of the night not only did you give him your number, but also a promise for a date the next day — the first of many to follow after.
Tumblr media
“careful, you’ll wake her up”, you whisper, leaning against the doorframe of your 3-year old’s room and watching your husband place a soft peck on your daughter’s forehead.
“can’t help it”, he speaks quietly, “she looks like an angel”, before fixing the blankets around her, making sure she’s tucked in all cozily. “the nanny said she cried for papa while we were gone”, he puts a hand over his mouth to stop his lips from trembling, his eyes filled with nothing but love and tenderness, welling up and flowing from the corners.
“she’s such a daddy’s girl”, you sigh, a soft smile present on your face, “next year we can stay home and invite everyone else over — that way we won’t have to worry about missing her bedtime”.
“yea”, he hums, “let’s do that next year”, giving her one last kiss before turning off the night lamp and tiptoeing to you. “come on”, he puts a hand at the small of your back as you both walk out of the room.
“do you remember”, satoru speaks softly into your ear while walking behind you on your way to your shared bedroom, his front flat against your back, the hand at the small of it now circling around to rest over your navel, while the other — reaches for the handle of your bedroom door to push it open, “the night we first met on my birthday?”, he continues after carefully guiding you inside.
you stop in the middle of the room, his arms still wrapped around you from behind, your hands resting over his and playing with his knuckles.
“how can i not?” you chuckle, tilting your head back to let him rest his chin on your forehead, “that was one hell of a fortune telling you pulled on me back then”
“but i was right, no?”, he brushes his lips on your forehead before leaving a soft peck, “see — you’re all mine now, just like i said”, and then another, ”i made you my girlfriend first”, and another, “then i gave you my last name”, and a fourth one, “and then you gave me a beautiful daughter, made me a father”, before turning you around to face him.
“you partly owe it to suguru though — he eased me into the situation, unlike you”, you reply, humbling him like you always do. your head is nestled on his broad chest as one of his hands caress the back of it. still in his embrace, he slowly walks you towards the bed. sits at the edge of it and straddles you on his lap. his palms finding their way to the plush of your thighs draped over his, caressing them tenderly but needily as his fingertips press and then release against your flesh in quick repetitive motions.
“this is because i asked him to give me a hand in case you cut me off”, he admits, tilting his head to meet your lips, not to kiss but just to keep them brushing against each other as you speak. he loved doing this a lot.
“oh?”, you gasp into his mouth, pretending to be shocked to your core, “you wanted me so much that you of all people, the gojo satoru, had to ask someone else for help?”
“you have no idea. if that hadn’t worked, i would’ve fallen on my hands and knees and begged you to take me”, one of his hands reaching the side of your face, playing his fingers on the strands of your hair covering your cheek before tucking them behind your ear.
“hmm”, you doubt, “is that so?”, nuzzling your nose against his.
“mhmm”, he nods, “there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, i thought you knew that by now. it kind of hurts my feelings that you doubt me actually”, he acts offended, pursing his lips and turning his head to the side to face away from you.
“oh my, what have i done now”, you knit your brows and press your cheek against his, pretending to be very, very sorry about what you just said.
“you made the birthday boy sad”, he huffs a silly, somehow obviously forced, pout, “you’ve got to make it up to me somehow”
“i’d do anything to make the birthday boy smile again — just say the word”, you sweetly pamper, patting the top of his head.
“really?”
“really.”
“anything?”
“anything.”
“you promise not to go back on your word?”
“i promise.”
he pulls his cheek away from yours and looks you in the eyes, the blue in his shining with a darker shade of mischief now. and considering the smug smile on his face, you sigh — perhaps you just got yourself played, falling face down into his little trap.
“then”, he points at his own face, “sit on it”
to say you were surprised by his request would be a lie. he’s many times tried coaxing you into doing this in the past but somehow you managed to avoid it, part of you still shying away from it. it’s not like his tongue has never been inside you before. but riding it as if it were his cock seemed way more obscene in your head than anything you two have ever done previously — and you’ve done pretty much a lot.
“well”, you sigh in defeat, seems like the time has finally come, “today’s your lucky day”, you say as you get up from his lap and turn your back — a signal for him to unzip your dress — to which, of course, he immediately complies.
“as it should be”, his crafty fingers work the slider down, slowly peeling the dress off your body and letting it fall on the floor, followed by your lace thong and bra, “it’s my birthday after all”
“the way you always find a way to make things go your way gets on my nerves so much”, you turn around again and push him on the bed and slowly climb on top of him to straddle his chest.
“make a wish before you blow the candle”, you look down at him, your pussy close to his face, the scent of you tickling his nostrils, and he, instinctively almost, takes a deeper breath, rolling his eyes back and hissing with delight.
“freak”, you quickly look away, embarrassed, but he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him again, “i want you to look at me as you ride my face”, his voice comes out breathy, “will you do that for the birthday boy?”
you nod into his palms, “you’re insufferable” — “suffocate me then”, he coos through a grin, grabbing your knees to pull you forward until you’re above his face.
“jerk”, you say, but softly, as you lower your cunt on his willing mouth, landing your softness on his face in slow motion, immediately earning a throaty groan from him that shudders through your pussy lips.
satoru breathes deeply in and out with your heat on his mouth, the scent of you hitting his lungs and even below, reaching all the way down to his groin to further nurture his cock already throbbing in his slacks. his hand reaching down to unbuckle them slightly, to give more space for his hard-on to grow freely.
“mowe”, he muffles incoherently into your pussy, grabbing a handful of your ass cheeks to push you against his face, tilting his head up and down, jutting his jaw up and out to meet you.
you whimper at the friction, your clit bumping and rubbing against his nose as his lips are kissing your folds, his tongue slowly poking at your entrance with the tip before darting in — twirling around your walls — and out.
“nghh…s-sa-t-to—”, you barely cry out his name, tugging at his hair, mercilessly pulling him into your heat. as much as you hated to admit it, you loved this position. your embarrassment long gone and forgotten, you ride his face in a haze, your pussy getting wetter against his mouth and your movements — faster and harder each moment.
“heawen on my fongwue”, he groans. if he could speak properly right now, he would probably make the nastiest, dirtiest remarks, shamelessly walk you through every single thing he was feeling as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding on his face. he would probably say something about your boobs, too. how they looked so pretty jiggling ever so slightly from the movement. he can’t speak right now, yes, but he can still get his thoughts reach you through actions — his hands run along your belly, gripping your breasts from below, squeezing and squishing them inside of his palms.
you clutch his hands with yours, “i can’t hold this position for too long”, and force them down on your hips for support. you hear him say something through a loud groan but it’s barely recognizable — most likely just him cursing “fuck” and “baby” from pleasure under your pussy, but also from the ego boost you just gave him — that he can make you weak but at the same time desperate enough to want to continue — despite your hips giving up — not only with his cock but his mouth alone, too.
you let him take over as you chase your high, weighing on his face as his hands grip on your hips, dictating your every move, composing the tune of your hips. his tongue is no more sliding in and out as he makes you grind harder on his face — it stays in, continuously licking your sweet spot clean.
“f-fuck, fuck, fuck…”, you curse loudly, reaching your hands to grab the head of the bed and hammer your pussy harder into his face, squeezing every last drop of strength left in your already cramping muscles until you cum, shuddering on his mouth.
“mfff”, he groans throatily into your hole, sucking and slurping your juices. his hips buck in the air, helplessly searching for friction to soothe his aching cock. his half-unbuckled pants are drenched with precum, leaking out from his tip through his boxers and out through the cloth of his pants, visibly staining them.
you can’t see but it’s easy to figure out from the way the bed bounces up and down as his ass meets the mattress after every time his hips fall down. “how cute”, you utter as you try to calm down your breathing, cunt still resting over his face.
his eyes are half closed, rolling back and hiding their blue away. all he needs is a little push, a little rub, you know it. you know it by the way his tongue has stopped moving inside you, by the way his hands have loosened the grip on your flesh, by the way his shortened moans have grown into one long and steady groan coming from the bottom of his throat — his entire brain solely focused on the muscles of his lower body that is searching, almost beggingly, for relief.
you lean your upper body back a little, just enough to make it easier to reach his shaft while still sitting on his face. “since you’re the birthday boy”, you drag your words out as you place your hand on his clothed cock, feeling the wetness that’s emerged from beneath against your palm, “i’ll give you a hand.”
his ass cheeks tense and squeeze as he presses his hips against your touch, ferociously rubbing his clothed cock on the flesh of your open palm. his groans get louder as he bucks his hips under your hand, pushing them up to meet your hand harder and faster each time — just the way he forces his cock into your tight cunt as he nears — until the last three thrusts that he always prolongs in order to properly and completely pump his seed out.
the inside of your hand feels hot against his clothed cock as he seeps himself out, the stickiness of his cum absorbing itself into the material of his pants and emerging through it to reach the skin of your palm.
you lift yourself up a little only to plop your body down next to his. his mouth, cheeks, chin, even his nose, are covered in his spit and your cum, all mixed in.
“shit, baby”, he laughs, breathing deeply in and out of his mouth, overwhelmed by the whole experience, “what the hell did you just do to me”
“do you really need me to verbalize what just happened”
“yes”
“no”, you slap his cheek with the back of your hand, softly, before rolling on your side to rest your head on the left side of his chest, kissing it tenderly. “happy birthday”
“it really is”, he whispers, tracing a heart shape over the skin of your exposed cheek with his fingertip, “with you, it always is”
“did your wish come true by any chance?”, you tilt your head to look at him.
“not yet. but i’ll work on it later tonight. for now, i’ll let you catch your breath”
“wait, wait.”, you raise a brow, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“my love”, he clears his throat, “do you remember how i said, when we first met, that you’d be the mother of my children?”
“yea? am i not?”
“children”, he stresses.
“oh.”, it finally hits you.
“one more to go”
Tumblr media
5K notes · View notes
st4rymoon · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
・𝘝𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘰 𝘎𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 ・
Tumblr media
- 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟐 ・𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐟 | 18+ | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Miguel O’Hara x Fem Reader
Warnings: teasing, p in v, unprotected sex!, semi voyeurism? (Miguel in call with friends), pet names, dom Miguel, bratty reader, brat tamer Miguel, language, semi dubcon? If you squint.
Tumblr media
You laid on your tummy as you buried yourself in a book with your legs kicking in the air. Miguel sat at his desk as he yelled into his head set. When he wasn’t busy with being in charge of the spider society, he spent some time online playing his games.
You were surprised when you found out a man so serious could have fun. But after a few months of dating him you soon realized he was quite the nerd. His dozens of shelves full of books kept you entertained as he played with a few other spiders online.
“Peter stop killin- no not you Peter the other pe- FOR FUCK SAKE EVERYONE SHUT UP” he screamed. You chuckled seeing him so frustrated, turning onto your side you faced him.
You watched him with a smile as some of his hair fell to his sides, the head set pinning his front hairs up. He looks so sexy whenever he played video games. You had no clue why but seeing him in some sweats, no shirt and angry always made you wet.
“Mig” you whined, your tone giving away your intentions as you rubbed your thighs onto his sheets “yeah doll?” He muttered turning to you. You gave a pout and spread your legs open slightly.
His eyes averted to you, his smirk growing as he rolled his eyes “not now chula, let me finish this game” he hummed. You groaned in agony as you rubbed your thighs together “please mig.”
He shook his head with a smile and continued to focus on his game. You’ve never teased him while he played but you were getting annoyed by his lack of his attention.
You stood up from the bed, pushing him back slightly so you could straddle him. He huffed as you sat on his lap, squirming and kissing his face. “Get off me before all of them hear me fucking you” Miguel threatened.
You didn’t understand if he really thought that would scare you. You chuckled at his words and started to rub yourself onto his lap “oh yeah?” You mocked.
Miguels hands moved up to your waist, his eyes darkening as he moved his game character behind a building. He didn’t say a word as he pulled your panties down to the side, he pulled his headphones off and placed them on your head.
“You wanna keep acting like a damn brat, never listening to me. You’ll get what you want” he cooed. You tried to yank off the headphones but he pinned your hands onto your stomach “no chula, déjalos escuchar si lo quieres tan mucho.”
Miguel kicked off his sweats, fisting his cock, he aligned himself between your cunt without any prepping. His hand squeezed your cheeks “gonna let them hear your boss fucking you? Mhm?” He moved your face side to side, teasing you with a smile.
Miguel slammed you onto his cock, settling deep in you as he let out a shaky moan. You bit your tongue as you felt his length stretching you, your tight walls squeezing him as he picked up the pace.
You tried to fight his hands off yours to cover your mouth, but with no struggle he kept you still. His hips fucked up into you, his cock sliding in and out as he moaned onto your shoulder. You could hear Miguel’s friends talking on his headset as he bottomed you out.
You were fighting every sound that threatened to spill out of you “let it out doll” he cooed. The second his calloused fingers rubbed your swollen clit you let out a loud moan. Miguel’s name spilling from your lips as the moan knocked the air out of you.
The talking on the head piece went silent. You tried moving your hands again, trying your best to pull them off but yet again, Miguel adjusted the headphones and now pinned your hands behind your back.
“No no, you were begging for this remember?” He shook his head, looking up at you with a smile on his face as your cheeks began to become stained with tears.
“Mi- Miguel please i-“ you cried as he pounded you out, his free hand that wasn’t pinning your hands behind your back on your hips. You slumped onto his chest, your moans spilling into his neck as he hugged you onto him.
He sloppily fucked into you as your slick dripped down your thighs and onto his lap. Miguel’s moans loudened as he felt you squeeze his cock, your moans filling his ears as your orgasm hit.
“Ay- ay mami- fuckkk” Miguel seethed, his fangs slightly piercing your shoulder as he bit onto you. Miguel’s seed spilling into you, his cum leaked out of you as he pulled out softly.
His hands moved up to your head and pulled the head set off “don’t worry doll, I ended the call the second I heard you moan” Miguel winked as he placed a kiss onto your forehead.
4K notes · View notes
roseykat · 8 months
Text
TITLE: How they are when they eat you out
Tumblr media
SUMMARY: OT8 blurb version of the title.
MASTERLIST
WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.
TAGS: mentions of orgasms, sex positions, again nothing too major.
TAGLIST: @xhakumeix
A/N: here is another spicy blurb/work of mine! Thank you everyone for engaging with my posts, messaging and following! I really appreciate y’all 😭💗 also side note again, I’ll spellcheck this when I get home!
BANG CHAN
Deliberately goes slow. He likes foreplay but also teasing you. Thrives off of feeling your legs shake around his head as he goes down on you. If you can’t handle the overbearing intensity of pleasure, he’ll snake his arms around your thighs, gripping and holding you there to ensure that you will take everything he gives you.
However, Chan is a firm reinforcer of edging and uses his mouth to achieve that. He’ll have you squirming and trembling every single time he brings you to the edge. Whenever you try and inch closer towards his tongue, he’ll pull away, leaving you frustrated and angry. But edging has a high purpose, and that’s to make you cum ten times harder than you usually would.
“I know how much you want to cum right now,” Chan says. “So lie back and let me get you there.”
-
MINHO
Eats pussy for sport and will make you cum as hard and as fast as possible and as many times as you’ll let him. He’ll tease when he wants but for the most part, he wants to watch you writhe and shake. Hearing you scream out his name is a phenomenon that he can never get over. Minho also likes eating you out in positions that will have you screaming and where you’re bound to cum - literally.
He will have your legs bent at your sides, tied up so you can’t move, and will eat you out for an hour or two, otherwise until you’re crying from how much pleasure you’re in. In those positions, there’s nowhere for you to go or move other than the surface of his hot tongue.
“Like cumming on my mouth don’t you?” Minho asks. “I’ll make you cum again, and again, and again - until you start to forget your name.”
-
CHANGBIN
Eats it like he means it. Will make you cum more than once with his mouth and won’t settle for anything less. He will have you in tears from how intense the orgasms are that he gives you. It’s a real contrast to how tender and nurturing he is when it comes to taking care of you afterwards. Nonetheless, Changbin will eat you out like it’s the last thing he’ll do.
He doesn’t stop unless you want him to. Sometimes you give him free rein which, in all honesty, is a terrible idea sometimes because Changbin will cease at nothing to make you cum so hard that you start seeing stars. What’s even better is because of his strength, it’s near to impossible to squirm away from his mouth, rendering you to cum hard regardless.
“Look how pretty you are when you cum,” Changbin sigh’s exasperatedly.
-
HYUNJIN
Is very attentive. Studies every reaction that he brings out of you as soon as his mouth is buried in between your legs. Hyunjin also has the tendency to overstimulate the shit out of you. Half of the time he doesn’t actually mean to. He just gets off on the change in pitch of your moans, how you sometimes go silent when you cum, or when you grip onto his hair as tight as you can.
His method of making you orgasm multiple times ensures that your legs will be shaking and your moans will fill the space around him. The only unfortunate thing for him when it comes to eating you out is that he can’t see your entire body, especially when you cum.
“You’re shaking baby,” Hyunjin points out. “Feels that good, huh?”
-
JISUNG
Is sloppy, but in the best way possible. He’s unfazed about how wet you are, how much of it gets on his face, if it’s on the bed, the floor, the kitchen counter - whatever. That’s applicable to every situation where he’s eating you out, even when Jisung feels lazy. In saying that, there are two sides to him, and he can go either way; he’ll either eat you out like he’s been deprived of it for months, or if he’s feeling lazy but still wants to go down on you, he’ll eat slowly.
If that’s the case, he will ask you to just sit on his face. It’s convenient for him to lie back and eat you out that way. Hell - he’ll even let you use his face to make yourself cum however many times you want. Jisung will say it so casually that it sometimes turns you on more. Despite him feeling lazy, that doesn’t mean to say that he isn’t into it - he is definitely into it.
“I’m horny as fuck,” Jisung says before smiling. “Sit on my face?”
-
FELIX
Going down on you is already a task that’s intimate enough as it is, but Felix’s entire aura seems to enhance that even further, to the point where you feel so good that it’s emotional. Almost every time - guaranteed - Felix will interlock his fingers with yours when his head is buried between your legs. He’ll kiss your inner thighs, softly on your clit, delicately sucking and licking to slowly build you up to a peak.
He analyses what you like so well that every time he goes down on you, he makes sure to follow that routine to achieve the same results if not better. It’s almost like one of his games to him, except the rewards are better in every aspect. Lix just wants to make sure you feel good.
“Can never get enough of you,” Felix says. “Wanna make you cum as much as you’ll let me.”
-
SEUNGMIN
Is a tease. Even during foreplay he’ll edge you with his mouth. He’ll never give you exactly what you want when you want it. If he’s going down on you, and you’re ready to cum, Seungmin will stop right before you start tipping over the edge just so he can fuck you in order to make you cum on his cock instead. Then again, if he feels generous, it’ll be his mouth that makes you cum, especially as a form of reward if you can go a day or two without being an absolute brat.
But that’s the side of Seungmin who likes to be dominant. There’s the other face of the coin where he can be very tender. In those instances when he is going down on you, expect to see a lot more affection from him. He won’t just focus solely on your clit, he’ll go slow, check in on you, and make you cum more than once because he’s also a gentleman.
“I’m the only one who can make you feel this good,” says Seungmin. “Nobody else can make you cum the way I do.”
-
JEONGIN
Knows exactly what he’s doing when it comes to eating you out. Jeongin chooses to go slow whenever he does because of how attentive he is. He wants to make sure that each second his face is buried in between your legs that your body feels good. Every now and then it’s a bit frustrating because all you want to do is just cum as quickly as you can, so as you squirm or grip his hair to try and make him go faster, that’s when he’ll decide to intentionally tease you and go slow.
He likes to hold around your thighs, gently squeezing them to hold you firm around his head. The struggles you have when it comes to putting up with his tongue is next level. He has the technique to make you cum in under a minute minimum. He’s unassuming but he’s just that good at it.
“Can feel your legs shaking,” Jeongin says. “I want to feel them shake even more.”
4K notes · View notes
rafeysdoll · 12 days
Note
Reader finding a little kitten somewhere and begging rafe to keep it ♡
i struggled soooo much with this request i have no idea why when i literally thought of something similar to this a few days ago >.<. i hope you enjoy it though, struggled the most with the ending ^_^
Tumblr media
“it’s reallll hot ray,” you comment rather obviously as rafe leads you down the street, making sure you stay on the side where cars don’t pass by placing his large hand at the small of your back, directing you. 
“know that baby, we’ll get you some water in a bit, alright?” he promises, making you nod compliantly, about to take another step before you hear a soft meow— your heart practically skipping a beat when you look down to find a small kitten besides your new baby pink heels. 
“oh my god!” you squeal, quickly reaching for the lovely animal, lips tugged into a bright big smile. 
before you can pick the kitty up, rafe grabs your wrist, pulling it back quickly. “could have rabies and shit, should know we don’t touch strays. it’s not hygienic, baby.”
you can only thrash your hands against him, melting as the kitten starts rubbing their head against your ankle, purring lightly. “ohhh, look how cute!!” you chirp, quickly grabbing the undomesticated kitten into your arms as soon as you escape rafe’s tight hold. 
“can’t just leave—” you pause, lifting the kitten up to examine the gender. “—her here! she’ll never survive the poor thing..” you sympathize, petting her soft fluffy fur.
rafe could only roll his eyes, shaking his head. 
“thought i told you not to touch it- her. probably has fleas and ticks crawling up all over her body.” he scolds, rubbing the side of his forehead in frustration. 
you don’t even pay much attention to him now, too distracted at the way the small kitten purrs and meows. “oh you’re just the cutest girl ever, aren’t you? what should we name you, hmm?” you ask the kitten as if she could speak back to you. 
“hey! ‘m talking to you, you hear me? d-don’t know why you’re talking ‘bout naming her. we’ll drop her off at a clinic but you should know we’re not bringing her home with us.” 
“w-what? but rafe! look at her.. she’s perfect. it has to be fate! she even came up to us! we can’t abandon her to random strangers,” you beg, hugging her close to your chest. 
“promise i’ll take care of feeding her and cleaning up after her, please let’s take her back home!” you continue, staring up at him with those wide and glossy doe eyes. 
he stays silent for awhile, chewing at the side of his cheek. “.. gotta promise me—,” 
“oh thank you!” you squeal, your eyes burning with what could only be happy tears. “i love you so muchhh!” you rant, kissing all over rafe’s cheek. 
you return back home with your new kitty, who you sweetly named, ‘luna’, as it so read in her shiny pink collar you and rafe picked out while she was receiving a proper de-flea treatment as well as a few necessary shots, rafe squeezing that time to remind you of all the things he wanted you to take care of with your new responsibility. 
and as as the night settled in and luna laid sound asleep in her soft bed, you dolled yourself up in the restroom—changing to a soft white lingerie set, approaching rafe with a cheeky smile. 
“think its time for me to give you your proper thank you, now.. right?” 
1K notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 2 months
Note
Okay so I have a small req (Honestly this is more of an hc than anything-but I need to share cuz vshvskhbjks) I feel like Spencer is genuinely so perverted when it comes to his girlfriend??? like if you leave your panties lying around he IS swiping them and he is not ashamed like...he may not do much in public but in private he will grab a handful of your ass or tits when he can like.....In the early seasons, I feel like he'd be a little ashamed but s13+? hell no, especially when it comes to him getting caught being a lil perv gfkjk (FEEL FREE TO IGNORE THIS IF IT ISN'T YOUR CUP OF TEA!!!!)
A/N; Gave this one some ✨️angst✨️ just because I could, but YES TO PERVERTED SPENCER!! YES INDEED!!
Summary; You get to know your coworker well after a decade on the job. You get to know just how much he loves to touch you and just how much you enjoy his hands on you as well. But after prison, something is changed in Spencer Reid.
Warnings: SMUT, 18+ Minors DNI. Masturbation (M, F), oral sex (F), hand job, mentions of somewhat public indecency, groping, grinding, etc, unprotected sex, PinV, creampie, dirty talk.
Tumblr media
Spencer Reid had always been a pervert, and it took you six long, quiet months to figure that out. 
When you'd joined the BAU after years of begging for a chance, you were a team expecting field-hardened agents, and for the most part, that's what you'd got. Hotchner was as bureaucratic as they came, Rossi had been at the institution as long as the concept of the BAU had, and the others had some serious qualifications to their names. 
But Spencer Reid was the outlier. He was a bit timid in front of the others, always seemed to put his foot in his mouth when it mattered most and seemed to be patronized around the office a bit until it came to his intellect. 
And you didn't quite know how to act around him until you got to know him very, very well. 
A case in some state or the other had called for emergency motel rooms, unfortunate as some Nascar show or the other was rapidly filling up hotel room spaces everywhere. So, as the two youngest members of the team (and by far the most eager to please), you'd ended up rooming together in a double twin room. 
“So, Spencer, what do you do at night to wind down? Relax after a case?” The motel door had swung shut loudly behind you an awkward three minutes before you started the conversation, and you needed something to break the awkward tension in the room. 
“I… read, I guess?” 
“You're always reading. What book is it today? Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy? Maybe Dickens?” 
In response, he'd just awkwardly held up the book cover for a minute, leaving you to nod and let the conversation peter out. It wasn't the first time one of your conversations with him died out due to a mutual lack of skill, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. 
Giving in, you grabbed your bag and headed for the small bathroom, a strategic retreat to pass the time without having to acknowledge that the teams resident genius was ignoring you. 
Because he definitely was. 
You'd been on the team for six months, and you couldn't quite figure out why he'd never so much as asked you how your day was. He'd be jovially talking with one agent or the other and would clam up as soon as you joined into the fray. 
Spencer Reid was stuck in his shell, you'd been told. He was someone who didn't open up very easily, especially after his first few, very rough years in the BAU. 
You let each concern roll off your back as you showered and cleaned yourself up after a day of dumpster diving for clues. Your next aim was getting out of the shower, dried, and into bed before you felt the weight of his disinterest in you settle any heavier. 
“Hey  I'm all done now, and I'm gonna hit the hay, so bathrooms all yours.”
“Thanks,” he said and immediately strode in, shutting the door behind him without another word. 
You wished you could shake the man. You weren't exactly used to being so pointedly avoided by a peer, and it was honestly making you feel rather indignant. You wanted to grab his attention and hold it any way you could, so much so that your palms started itching. 
The sounds of Spencer's shower interrupted your attempts to rest, so you set about organizing your things instead. Folding your shirts, you placed them in your go bag, taking inventory on how many fresh outfits you had left and how much laundry you'd have left to do when the case ended. 
It could've been the haze of sleep, or perhaps just an early warning bell, but no matter how many times you counted, you always came up short by one pair of panties. It took another minute of blinking out the sleep in your eyes, becoming suddenly alert again, that you realized it was the pair of panties you'd been wearing before your shower. 
“Fuck,” you sighed, trying to fill the deep pit of embarrassment opening in your stomach before it swallowed you from the inside out. “Fuck.” 
When in doubt, you found it best to curse at least twice. 
And just like that your coherent thoughts went out the window - a morning, afternoon and evening doing manual labor under the guise of a nice desk job would do that to any girl - and you found yourself opening the door to the bathroom without knocking first or even remembering Spencer Reid's presence in the room at all. 
He froze in shock as you came face to face with him, shirt and pants open, his long cock in his hands and his face flushed with erotic shock as he rubbed up and down the length of his cock. 
“Shit, fuck, Spencer I'm sorry I was- are those my panties?” 
Rather unabashedly, your eyes hadn't left his crotch as he froze in fear at your intrusion. 
“I'm not a pervert!” He shouted, still unable to let his dick go, so close to bliss as he was. 
“You're madturbating into my panties, Spencer. What other label would you put on that?” 
“You're really hot. It's hard to ignore. I don't usually do this, but they were in here on the floor, and I thought about taking them back out to you, but then you'd think I was a pervert for touching your underwear and then I imagined you thanking me and putting them back on right in front of me and my cock was so hard and you said you were going to sleep. Did you know most men masturbate eight times a week on average? Me doing this once while sharing a room with you for a week isn't statistically …that …bad. Why are you doing that?”  
You'd been done listening halfway through and had somehow found yourself sinking to your knees. He'd rested his body against the bathroom sink, so you organized yourself in front of him, staring up at him innocently as you wrapped your fingers around his hand. 
“I want to see what it was you were doing with my panties, Spencer,” You moved his hand up and down his length, slowly dragging the lacy material across each inch. “Please let me see.” 
The empty shower kept flowing and the room was thick with steam as you kept up a steady pace rubbing up and downs Spencer's cock. 
A sense of achievement hit you with each moan and gasp he let out. Every time his hips thrust up into your hand, each time his hand stroked your hair in thanks for your copious attention. 
You'd finally gotten through to Spencer Reid in a way that you were about to make sure was mutually beneficial. 
His moans got louder and harder to conceal with a bite of the lip as he got closer to cumming. He really was a pervert, letting his coworker jerk him off in a motel bathroom while on a case. He was practically begging for release. 
“Cum for me Spencer. Make my face pretty, please please please.”
His eyes shot open wide as you stuck your tongue out, just in time to taste his cum on your lips. A few stray ropes hit your chin and cheek as well, with the majority staining the panties you'd come in to search for. 
“Thank you, Spencer,” You giggled, wiping away his cum and standing yourself up to come face to face with him. 
“Y/N, it won't-” You cut him off with a kiss that he eagerly returned hands, falling all over your body in his haste to feel every part of you. His tongue pressed into your mouth like he was a cartographer mapping out its caverns, desperate to learn each soft caress you returned off by heart. 
“If you were about to say it won't happen again, I suggest you think again, Spencer. I want this to happen again. Regularly.”
You shut off the shower and turned on your heel, walking back out to the bedroom and out of the heat for a few minutes. 
“You want to jerk me off?”
“Yes.”
“And I'm the pervert?” 
“You were using my panties and your hand like a fleshlight, Spencer. Yes, you are a pervert.”
“I'm a pervert but you still want to jerk me off?” 
“Yes.” 
“Okay.”
That's how it began. Your decade-long escapade with Spencer Reid. It wasn't that you dated. He was still unsure about how to approach you for another few months after that, but there was nothing like the relaxation of a few orgasms to really help you warm up to somebody. 
For the first few years, a case didn't pass without one of you slipping into the others motel room for some late night entertainment. 
You knew just how deep his fingers could hit inside you after only two weeks. You became obsessed with how well his cock could stretch you out, how his hands would gently rub around your clit in circles while you bounced up and down on his length. How he watched your breasts bounce with untold wonder in his eyes. 
You most of all loved that his tongue was as eager to taste you as you had been that very first time to taste his cum. 
Half the times he let himself into your room, he'd satisfy himself by eating you out lazily for hours on end, making you moan his name while you came on his fingers and tongue. Every flash of violet that he caught a glimpse of - that first pair of panties - drove him crazy. 
Motels and hotels and once the back seat of an SUV after a long drive became your time to get closer to your coworker. You never once thought of bringing this physical relationship home with you, though, and it wasn't a continuous thing. 
You'd had to take it easy when he got shot in the leg, not wanting to hurt him anymore. And again, when he'd gotten shot in the neck, though a few times he'd begged you to close his hospital door and help him out still. 
And you'd both distanced yourself after Emily's death and miraculous resurrection. Surprisingly enough,  you'd found your heart slightly twisted when he'd begged the team for help rescuing his girlfriend from a stalker. 
But you always found your way back in his bed with his tongue pressed against yours and his cock buried as deep into you as far as it could go. In the decade you'd been sleeping with the secretly perverted and somewhat insatiable Spencer Reid you'd never gone longer than three months without his body in your bed. 
Until he went to prison. 
The weight of your grief at losing him was unparalleled. You'd been heartbroken when Emily had died, but it paled in comparison to the thought of his isolation. Penelope had to remind you to eat, Luke had to engage you in conversation to keep you talking. 
Emily slipped a spare key to Reid's apartment to you somewhere around the three week mark, and you'd let yourself into a place you'd only ever heard described. You slept in his bed to feel his scent wrapped around you, touched yourself there to remind yourself that you were just feeling the loss of a sexual partner and friend and nothing more. It was lust and sexual frustration driving your depression. That was all. 
Spencer came out different. Everyone did. On the surface, he was still kind, still a little bit nerdy, and he still wasn't the best at reading social cues, but there was an intensity to him that wasn't there before. 
On cases, he'd wrap a hand around your waist and push a hand just slightly under your shirt while you introduced yourself to local detectives. He'd hug you at the end of every work day, breathing in your scent and telling you how tired he was. 
His hand would firmly cover your thigh and not move the entire duration of any car ride, team dinner or family event, and he'd kiss the back of your neck and grope your breasts each and every elevator ride you took alone together. 
Spencer Reid hadn't been able to keep his hands off of you for six whole months, and yet he hadn't actually touched you.
Every time you'd knocked on his motel door, he'd not opened it, and he hadn't once come to yours. 
You'd expected him every day for a week after he'd first gotten out and had even explicitly told him so. You texted your address, invited him over, and sent him pictures of you in those infernal panties that you really didn't wear that often anymore. 
He desired you still, you knew enough from brushing past him and feeling his semi push against your ass, you knew in every hug where he touched you just enough to know he wanted more but still had the control to pull away. 
You knew that he only kissed your neck, because if he kissed your lips his tongue would wander all the way to your cunt and he'd be on his knees between yours making you scream his name in pleasure. 
Spencer Reid wanted to avoid you, but he still wanted you, and after six months of celibacy you were tired of waiting around for him to finally crack. 
Emily had never asked for the spare key back. With 10 years of dalliances under your belt, you were sure the entire office had caught on, if not before prison, then certainly after his hands took possession of your body after his release. She wasn't going to ask for the key back because that was like asking a question she probably would sleep better without having the answer to. 
Spencer started his professorial work, and you finished some nights before he could manage the commute home, so it was easy to let yourself into his apartment for the confrontation. 
When Spencer finally turned his key in the lock, he found you there  on your knees on the floor in a matching violet set of lingerie. Not your originals, but certainly close enough - smaller, though. 
“Y/N, what are you doing here?” 
“I'm just sitting here in my underwear for fun, Spencer. You should try it sometime.”
He frowned at your sarcastic reply but stepped closer to you, topping your head up to meet his gaze with a quick flick of his finger. 
“I mean it, Y/N. Why are you here?” 
“I…I want you to touch me again.” 
“I touch you plenty, Y/N. I touch you here,” he traced your lips. 
“And here.” His fingers fell to your neck, sweeping some hair off your shoulders. 
“And a lot here, too.” He cupped one breast in his hand and gave it a squeeze, and you let your head rest against his thigh as he slipped a finger into your bralette. 
“I want you to touch me more, Spencer.”
“How? How should I touch you? Be a little pervert for me and tell me, Y/N?”
Your breathing faltered for a second as he pinched your nipple and you bit your lip before you told him exactly what he wanted to hear. 
“I want to feel your dick buried deep in my pussy. I want to cum on your tongue. I want you to stretch me out with your fingers and I want you to fill me up with your cum. Please, Spencer, I miss you so much.” 
He said nothing but withdrew his hand from your chest and distanced himself slightly, turning his face away from you. 
“Spencer, please, what's wrong? Did I do something-”
“Do you miss me? Or do you miss fucking me?” The words would regularly send you into an indignant stomp, and part of you was still begging you to let out a shout of “what the hell is that supposed to mean.” 
But Spencer was frozen still in the doorway of his house, almost statuesque as a melancholic look overwhelmed his features. 
Your courage drained your body as you stood up and pulled the shirt you'd earlier discarded back on. 
“Spencer? Look at me, please.” 
He did reluctantly, and that blank expression still filled his eyes with gloom. 
You grabbed his hand and pulled him to the couch, sitting him down and wrapping yourself around him. 
You say there, head pressed into his neck, legs straddling him as his arms slowly came up to pulling you back in. Your heart beat harder by the second, and you counted down the minutes as you worked up courage.
“I missed you so much I drove myself insane. I had to sleep here for a week straight after they told me you were put in solitary. Every day, I thought of your hands on my body and how much I missed seeing your fingers flipping through a book on the jet. I missed asking you what you were reading, and I missed convincing you to put the book down.” 
You pulled your head up to meet his gaze and slowly let your mouth fall to his lips. It was slow, soft. An innocent peck in the context of your usual caresses. It spoke the words I miss you more effectively than your voice could, and neither of you seemed to want to part from the warm embrace. 
“I missed you, Spencer Reid.” You spoke, cutting off your kiss as you grew more impassioned by his touch, breathing harder and speaking faster and faster now as you kept on. 
“I missed you when you came back because you kept your hands on me. You let yourself enjoy my body in public but wouldn't let me share your bed in private. You hugged me, but you wouldn't let me hold you, and you have not once spoken about how you feel, you have not once told me that you are okay now or that you are not okay and you need my shoulder to cry on.”
He was silent until your tears sprung forth, and then he was everywhere around you, kissing the drops from your face, shushing you and whispering words of encouragement and thanks and love into your ears while he placated your breaking heart.
Because somehow you fell in love with the pervert who stole your panties and now you were sitting in a room with a mostly broken man, begging him to use you to feel whole again. 
“I love you, Spencer. Please, please let me touch you.” 
“I love you, too,” he whispered against your lips, hands finding your hips again as he finally pushed his tongue into your mouth. 
His nails bit into the skin at your thighs as he forced you not to move, instead grinding up into you after another heated kiss. 
“It was hard, but you kept me going. Memories of you, your mouth, your scent your wet cunt wrapped around my cock, you kept me alive in that place.” He worked you up with each dirty confession as his hands pushed the shirt back off your shoulders and bared the lingerie to him once again. 
“Then I was out, and you were still the same as I remembered, but I was different, and I needed more from you. But I couldn't take more, and I didn't want to ask you to give more because I could not beg one more person to love me.” 
“You don't have to beg, Spencer, I love you already, I love you I love you I love you.” 
“Y/N, you don't understand. I am completely enamoured with you. I want to possess you, I want to keep you in my room, I want to have a hand on you at all times. I want to put a bullet in any man who looks at you because you are mine. I'm not a pervert, I'm a monster, and I'm going to hurt you.”
“Possess me, hurt me, keep me, Spencer, do whatever you want to me, I will let you. Just please don't leave me.” 
Your teeth clicked together in his haste to recapture your lips again, his cock hard and already sprung from his pants thanks to two pairs of quick working hands. 
He pushed aside your panties, and he was inside you, pressed to the hilt recapturing the place that was home to him. 
“You picked this color for me. You wanted me to lose control and fuck you and you got what you wanted,” he whispered in your ear as you locked your ankles together behind his back. 
“I did.”
“Good. I'm going to rip them shred by shred from your body so nobody else can see you acting like such a desperate wet cunt ever again.” 
You let out a gasp at his words, and his tongue dropped back down your throat as he rutted into you ferociously. 
“Spencer, yes, fuck me. FUCK!” 
Your hips met his in a furious clash, his hand making their way around to your butt cheek as he aided your thrusting, pulling you up and down the length of his cock. 
“That's it, look at your boobs bouncing for me, sweetheart. Your body knows when it's being fucked right, it knows when I'm here, and I'm the only one who can make you feel this good, right baby?” 
“Yes, Spencer. Yes!” 
His hand came back up to your clit as you met his hips more enthusiastically than before, fucking yourself on the length of him. 
“You're going to cum on my cock. Show me how much you missed me,  missed this.” 
“So much, missed you so much, Spence….need your cum inside me, fill me up Spencer, please."
It took both of you only a few more desperate thrusts to reach the climax you'd waited half a year for. You convulsed on his dick, shuddering underneath him as he filled you with rope after rope of cum.
But when you had both caught your breath, you still didn't let go, still holding on to him desperately as of he'd vanidj in another second despite your confessions. 
“Y/N…” he cooked into your ear as you buried your face in his chest again. “Y/N, we need to get you to bed.” 
“I'm not leaving.” 
“No, you're not. But you're not sleeping on my couch either.”
You pulled away just enough to watch his face as he dipped down for another sweetly chaste kiss. 
Lifting himself up, and pulling his cock out of you, you whimpered a little at the loss of his warmth, but after rearranging himself in his pants, he pulled you up next to him and wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug as he slowly walked you back towards his bedroom. 
“You really slept at my apartment?”
“I slept in your bed. I'm sorry, I know it was overstepping, but you were gone and I-”
“Missed me, I know.” His hands traced your spine again before cupping around your bare ass and hooking it under to touch your soaked cunt. 
“How much did you miss me, Y/N? How did you spend your nights here?” His fingers once again hooked under the panties, but instead of pulling them to the side, he quickly pulled at the seams, and you heard a ripping sound aa his eyes demanded the answer to your question. 
“Close the door, and I'll shoe you exactly what I did here, Spencer. I'll show you everything.’ 
2K notes · View notes
anantaru · 3 months
Note
thoughts on cockwarming and who loves it the most ?
including. neuvillette, diluc
cw. cockwarming, lots of teasing especially in diluc's part, petnames: love & baby, fem! reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
— ꒰ NEUVILLETTE ꒱
a soft, enervated smile goes across neuvillette's tender lips as he sinks you down on him— and the way it happened all at once, how your walls latched on his shaft oh so strongly, oh so familiar that he found himself already lost in deep puzzlement.
for now, neuvillette doesn't move his cock in you, not an inch, nor does he necessarily want to either. ultimately, the man decides against showering you with his sloppy thrusts as he leans his face against yours gently to capture your lips.
tranquility shapes your mind that of joy as it manifested with the feeling of his body resting his weight on yours. your legs automatically wrap around his hips to keep him there as your cunt squeezes him ever tight, lures him in for more of that sweetness, the crushing compression of your sore walls gripping him so tight that he could barely keep up with his breathing.
oh yeah, neuvillette was losing his mind.
nails carving into the fat of your thighs, watching how you're turning delirious due to just how impossibly well he felt inside of you.
he groans out through a tensed jaw, knitted brows accentuating his pleasured face as he attempts to part his lips to voice something, a tender coo or loving praise on how nice you felt— yet unsurprisingly, all that really escaped in the end was a soft hum, a pleased one, one that turned your physical state into a myriad of emotions passing between you two.
"baby— i am," you babble out, definitely not expecting neuvillette to move anytime soon, "i'm gonna— s-soon," as you let go of a shaken whine that reverberated across the entire room.
your aching thighs were restless, hugging around his hips steadier as you exchange moans between each other, the rather lewd although sensual noises bouncing from mouth to mouth.
"does this feel good? please tell me, love," neuvillette mutters and he was so close to you that you felt his bottom lip scratch yours, "i need you to tell me," you shudder at his heavily raspy voice as he nibbles on your bottom lip.
for the better part of about five minutes, the iudex has got you wrapped around his finger, has conquered your mind effortlessly as the wet sounds between your legs only added to this, every wet squelch and throb having you whine uncontrollably.
but do not forget, because you know you're save surrounded by strong arms.
you can barely breathe with how thick and bulky his erection would throb in you, but you're utterly pleased by it, not wanting it any other way.
Tumblr media
— ꒰ DILUC ꒱
diluc wasn't even aware that he liked to be cockwarmed by you— although this much wasn't the end, because once he's actually experienced it for the first time, he'll drag it out one by one, keeping his cock buried without moving until you're practically unable to speak.
and while you might assume that he found himself fantasizing about you in his office. a lewd, little fantasy about his darling settling on his lap and cockwarming him during work— there was just something so, lets call it, special, about resting next to each other late at night, together exhausted from the passing day— his cock softly stored within your walls as you're exchanging serenity through kisses and fondles.
greatly stammering over his words, diluc presses your body against his frame as your sore nipples repeatedly scratch against his chest, resulting in you letting go of a soft, surprised squeal, "how does it feel, hm?" he slowly runs his digits over your thigh, leisurely, leading you on to do what he really wishes for, most likely to hear you whine out his name, sob and cry it for more.
without mincing words, diluc was a little nasty for that— but it was also so sweet when he smiled into your lips as you whisper out his name.
what else was important to note is that despite the fact that the two of you had been dating for a good while already, diluc simply cannot help himself but get slightly shy when making love to you, most definitely due to the fact that it was deeply saturated in passion, paving the way for something stronger.
you can feel the hearts in his unspoken language— in his kisses, his traces, the feeling of him throbbing inside to the squeezes of you.
see it this way— when diluc touches you, it's like something in the pit of your stomach turns wide awake and gets set aflame, in an instant, roaring flames of love conquering your body and mind.
the flames continuously grow and are persistent in your soul— and when diluc notices your yearning for him, the man could never hide his ultimate desire for you, he needs to catch it.
that truly was the pleasure of feeling the rush of loving you.
you hold on to his sweat-laced back, barring your fingernails into the damp skin before beginning to smear wet kisses all along his sharp jawline, a few of them smothering over his cheeks, and at last, finding his pretty lips again.
you're so wet, sore and thirsty for him to move already, but he doesn't, diluc needs to savor you more. his eyes never leave yours, only when he wanted to admire the mess he made of your warm cunt slicking him up all the way to the base.
you sniffle into his shoulder as diluc chuckles breathlessly, "a little more, my love—just a little longer," he promises before giving your breasts a good squeeze, full on knowing just how sensitive they had been getting.
even with diluc showing you more of his dominant side, he never fails to smile ever so gently, smiling wider and letting you see the light of his eyes.
perhaps it's actually his smile that awoke that unique feeling in you— for one, it was tender, glazed in molasses and popsicle sweet, with just a hint of mischief.
Tumblr media
©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
2K notes · View notes
sukunas-wife · 4 months
Text
Sealed 3
Part: 1 2 4
Tumblr media
“Lady Y/n please settle down. You’ll make yourself sick if you-” Mori paused hearing the lullaby playing throughout the sound of the Hospital. You turned to Wasuke he didn’t look to please, he sat arms crossed over his chest staring blankly at the floor, his eyes flickering up to meet yours.
“Well, he’s alive.”
You waited eagerly until a nurse came to guide you all in, over time you wormed your way into the Itadori’s life making a point to become good friends with Kaori and Jin in the brief time before her due date. You know one thing you’d never trust her, Kenjaku to be exact, which is why it surprised you when she asked Jin if they could assign you as a God Mother if anything happened. Jin suggested maybe after Wasuke, you didn’t have a problem saying you were a neighbor if they ever needed you, you were next door.
Walking in the room you rushed over to Kaori seeing your son, except in this life he lacked the little marking on his forehead that matched his dad perfectly, but he was crying painfully loud. “Oh Kaori he’s precious, a little crying prince.” You tried to laugh it off before you squeezed her in a hug and she smiled “My little Yuji.” She tried to rock him Your heart skipped when he let out a loud cry hands shaking face reddening, you smiled at her with a loss of air “Yuji?”
She nodded at your question explaining it was a decision made for them. It didn’t feel right to name him anything else, you smiled and looked at his little round face, “hold him, you’ll be in his life as long as your around. Maybe he’ll calm down.”
She tried to offer Yuji, you hesitated looking at Wasuke and Jin, they were talking. You looked at Kaori, she smiled weakly and you nodded, as soon as you placed his head on your chest he feel into place the way he had once. Your teary eyes mixed with how quiet and calm he became when his little fist took hold of your shirt called attention. “Look at that.” Wasuke say elbowing Jin.
You smiled at Yuji’s little scrunched up face before turning to smile at Kaori, she smiled at you while trying to move around in the hospital bed, “He’ll be lucky to have you in his life, it seems like he likes you already.”
You spent the day with Kaori in the hospital when Jin and Wasuke left to bring her some take out and get a few things ready. You were sat by her bed holding Yuji who took hold of your finger, he was holding for life, you moved him around seeing that star mark of your binding vow. You looked over at Kaori, she was smiling but looked tired, “Take care of him y/n, if anything happens make sure he knows what it’s like to have a loving mother.” With a soft laugh you nodded, “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’re going to both be fine. You’ll get up, take him home and have a happy little family.” Your smile would’ve been reassuring if it actually reached your eyes, but your eyes held the trace of faint tears. Tears of the memory when Yuji was Born screaming, when Sukuna was so proud to see his boy being held up to show he was the first heir. The tight grip he held on Sukuna’s finger, the way Yuji was quick to nuzzle into your chest and not let go. How Sukuna didn’t leave your side for weeks wanting to take the first few weeks to admire his wife and first born son. Back when Sukuna had a sense of Humanity still. Now you could feel it, the evil that was slowly seeping into the world as the seals that held Sukuna captive weakened. Kaori had fallen asleep when you kissed Yuji’s forehead, running your thumb over his cheek when he yawned.
“Sleep little prince, I’ll be here always.” Nuzzling your forehead against his he cooed before he briefly opened his eyes, his little brown eyes were golden in the light of the afternoon soon. You held onto him while he slept until Jin and Wasuke returned. Mori stood to the side, watching it all. Wondering how different you were before you picked him up out of the scum he slept in every night. How could the tyrant he learned to be Sukuna have been your husband? Was he not the cruel King of Curses everyone had logged and preached him to be? Were you as cruel of a monster before the sun set on the Golden Age?
🤍❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🤍❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🤍
“My condolences” was all you said as you bowed to Wasuke before entering the shrine room to pay your respects. It hadn’t been long after Kaori and Jin came home, they found her dead, details hadn’t been shared but seeing the split on her skull at the mortuary you had known well enough what it was. Jin followed soon after leaving Wasuke with his grandson. Kaori had made it know that she trusted you completely with Yuji, which lead to you signing the legal documents for becoming a Godmother. That was one decision Wasuke agreed with entirely.
———————
There you sat on the floor of Wasuke’s living room, cooing and playing with Yuji not to long before his first birthday. Pressing on the bottom of his feet while he kicked back, “Look at you little baby” you wiggled his legs and he giggled, “Getting all ready to walk! You’re growing up so fast!” Yuji cooed before sitting up with a baby grunt and staring up at you, you let him crawl into your lap and sit there before you squeezed, “Aw my little Yuji.” Kissing his head and squeezing him in one more hug you let him sit in your lap, clapping along to whatever was on the tv. “Mm your grandpa’s taking a while longer than expected, wanna eat and get ready for bed?” Yuji cooed mindlessly watching the tv until you pulled him up with you, he squirmed turning to look at you, his little chubby hands on your cheeks trying to squish your face, “baaba.” “Mhmm, Baaba, Bottle.” He kept cooing until you gave him a warm bottle.
“Well, has a cold so it you and I.” Yuji was still drinking out of his bottle laying his head on your shoulder. The other hand squished between both your chests, his eyes looking up at you. “You still look so much like your daddy… speaking of him, his presence is stronger I wonder if something really is changing…”
Yuji had fallen asleep against your shoulder, soft breaths as he barely held onto the bottle. Slipping it out of his hand you made your way to your room, Morí was finishing setting up a bassinet cushion on your bed.
“Everything’s ready Lady Y/n” you smiled “Thank you Morinozuka.” He bowed before leaving and you laid Yuji down, tucking him in with a blanket. Running your fingers over his little fists to uncurl his fingers, leaning down you kissed his forehead and he whined, “Good night little prince.”
🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤🤍🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤
Soon you were walking a young Yuji to school and back. Watching how he ran and jumped on playground before you got to the school. He purposely woke up early to be able to play, “mommy!” Your eyes snapping to Yuji when he cried sitting on the stairs to a slide. Rushing over to him you knelt to see him cradling his knee. “What’s wrong did you get hurt?” He sniffled little cheeks getting red as he puffed them out.
“my knee.” You pouted with him when he moved his hand, “Don’t worry baby, I’ll fix it right up.” Pulling Yuji’s back pack off your shoulder you opened a little tin, it had bandaids you’d infused with cursed energy. Pulling out a bigger bandaid with a smiling chibi tigger your laid it over his knee, and he sniffled flinching, “Don’t worry, when you take it off you’ll be okay again.” Taking his face in your hands you kissed his forehead and he tried to hug you “thank chu.” He placed a wet kiss on your cheek that you wiped off when he wasn’t looking because you didn’t wanna hurt his little feelings.
“Alright! Let’s get you to school, I gotta buy some groceries for later.” You took his hands and he swung them back and forth, “Can we have noodles?”
He looked up at you starry eyed with a little bit of drool, you nodded, “Noddles with rice and fried egg?” He nodded excitedly “yeah!”
“Alright Yuji’s specialty to Start off the week it is.” You swung your hand with his and smiled looking ahead, stopping outside the schools gate where a teacher was waiting, “Bye mommy!” He hugged your side before rushing in, you waved at him when he turned back, “you didn’t say bye!” He screamed running back, “Bye Yuji,” he nodded running back before stopping again, “You didn’t tell me have a good day!” The teacher giggled when you smiled at her “Have a good day Yuji!” He nodded before you called him to come back, he was walking back and started running when he saw you kneel with open arms, when he ran into your hug you shook him side to side and he giggled. He leaned back from your hug “I love you Yuji, be good ,play nice and have a good day okay?” He gave a single nod, “Okay!” “Bye mommy love you!” He took off running, waving back at you with a closed eye smile.
“He’s very cute, everyone loves him and he’s very easy to make friends with.” The teacher smiled at you, “Yeah? That’s good, at least I know I don’t have to worry about him. Thank you.” You bowed your head to the teacher who brushed you off, “Please the pleasure is ours, Yuji is a little ray of sun on rainy days honestly.”
🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤🤍🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤❤️🖤🖤
“Wasuke.” Was all you could say when he told you what he knew, “Yuji’s mother Kaori was a curse. It wasn’t hard to tell but I knew my son couldn’t handle it. I’m old in age and you might think I’m crazy, a loony old man. I failed to save my own son, I let him get taken by a curse, I could have saved him. But I was a coward, I saw that woman with her skull split open, she was dead and she should’ve stayed dead. But that thing living inside her…” you placed a hand on his.
“I understand what you mean Wasuke, I couldn’t save someone precious to me long ago to a curse. I could see them as long as I’ve been alive. That’s a world so cruel I wouldn’t wish for anyone to have to live through it…” your blank stare on his hand as he turned his hand over, “Who did you lose y/n?” His stare was fixed on you.
“I should tell you, it’s the only parting gift I have to give. Yuji was my son in what would be his previous life, his Father was a powerful man. One day a group sorcerer’s turned on him, sealing him away. His presence is strong in this world still, he’s alive. Yuji was our only son, and they took him from us dealing him in time to be reborn in a time distant from our. It was a mistake on their part. I was locked in a box called the Prison Realm, a place where Time stands still and you’ll lose your sanity before you die. A man following an ancient tale found that Box where our capturer’s died. I haven’t the slightest idea how he did it but he set me free in exchange I bless his wife with a healthy pregnancy, I did and for years I built a following. Before that, on the day of the attack Yuji and I made a binding Vow that I would find him again, it’s why he has that star shaped mark on his forearm. When I tell him this same story and he understands completely the Vow will be completed, and they’ll disappear.”
Wasuke looked at you, thinking over your words while staring at your arm where you had rolled up your sleeve, it was the same mark as Yuji. He started laughing head thrown back into his pillow “They could say I’m crazy. But they would label you insane, but at least we’d both have middle ground on the truth here.” He squeezed your hand weakly and you squeezed back, “Take care of Yuji, your son, my only grandson.” You nodded, “I will, I’ll do anything to make sure i never lose him or see him get hurt again. For what felt like endless nights I relived the same memory of him crying, screaming and reaching out, and I’ll be damned if I ever let that happen again.”
Wasuke nodded before patting your hand, “He’ll be getting home soon, you should be there for him, especially today.” You felt his words deeply, the ache in your chest, he was predicting his own death. You nodded before bowing at his bed side, “Thank you for everything Wasuke Itadori, I pray you find peace in the afterlife.”
He snorted waving you off, “find peace in this life or you’ll never have it. Now go.”
———————
You were at home, it was quiet, the sound of boiling brother, the window cracked open letting the sound of crickets and bird coo’s fill the kitchen. Yuji had moved in with you when Wasuke was moved into the Hospital. Morí was at the table filling out a book from your old shrine. You had started shrine work here while Yuji was at school making sure to keep it private.
The sound of scribbling and your slicing of vegetables stopped when you looked out the window. It was setting, the sun, everything was quiet when you felt a sense of dread and a wave of cold wash over you. Scribbling stopped when the phone line began to ring, you knew what it was. “Hello, am I speaking with l/n y/n?”
“Yes, this is her.” A shaky breath, “Wasuke Itadori has passed away, I offer my condolences. Yuji Itadori is here and filling out the necessary paper work. We’ll give you a call when all the necessary preparations have been made.”
Thanking the nurse you hung up, trembling slightly as you tried to keep slicing vegetables. “Wasuke..” it didn’t take long for your noodles and rice to finish.
“Where’s Yuji? He should be home by no-” your entire body shook as you gasped, your heart thrumming in your chest, “ Ryomen…”
Tumblr media
@needsleep3000 @lunafrisk303999 @ang3lz-lov3 @christinerose380 @dl-yum @yumieis @bellinghambby22 @samatokisunfinishedcigarette @amitiel-truth @kundere20000000 @r0ckst4rjk @maybe-a-bi-witch @kouyoumarryme @wannabewolf @lunaizhere @futureittomainn @raiiny-night @3ve88 @sakuxxi @mercymccann
1K notes · View notes
rolanpilled · 5 months
Text
BG3 Patch 5 Spoilers
WARNING: BG3 SPOILERS AHEAD!
New content from the ending scene of BG3. This is all from the perspective of a redeemed Dark Urge who romanced Shadowheart and Halsin, and recruited every "good" ally possible.
people at the party: all your companions, scratch, owlbear, volo, and a bard in the middle playing a song (his name is milil)
lae'zel is the only one who isn't here physically, she sent an astral projection instead because she's been busy fighting vlaakith
astarion explains why he ran away (ashamed) when the sunlight hit him, he's become a "hero" who adventures and has accepted himself
(romanced halsin) you can hug halsin, he's missed his friends and you. you can do both the hug and the kiss, it's really sweet. he's turned the shadowlands into a community, repursing reithwin and moonrise towers into homes for people
jaheira's daughter rejoined the flaming fist, she's been working on rebuilding the harper network. the upper city was entirely destroyed by the battle but has been mostly rebuilt. she jokes that you might be a parent soon
wyll gives you a choice between three stories, a stegosaur/dinosaur battle, an impossible lich, or a young dragon. he lost his warlock powers but has been managing the best he can, and has become a RANGER ("a true hunter of monsters"). duke ravengard is commanding the flaming fist and help rebuilding the city, and he's very proud of his son
minsc and boo guard the streets while jaheira is "occupied with harperish manners". they "went to give a tickle" to the zhentarim, then got locked up in a zhentish cell, awaiting execution? idk if i'm reading incorrectly but he seems to be implying that he actually GOT executed but withers brought him back just in time lmfao
gale has become "professor gale dekarios of blackstaff academy, educator of the esteemed school of illusion". tara is with him. he surrended the crown of karsus to mystra, who cured him of the orb in exchange (his tattoo is gone), though his students still think he's explosive (he implies that he uses it as a threat to keep his class under control). he tells his students about your adventures together. he also implies you're welcome to visit his tower
shadowheart (main romance) - the game told me that we settled down together to live a happy, peaceful life on a farm in the countryside. shar still hurts her (if parents are saved), especially when she can sense that SH is enjoying herself, but it's been getting less frequent because she's been "losing interest". there's a new hug and kiss scene for her too, so i'm assuming this is for ALL companions and not just halsin/SH/whoever
withers will speak to you about karlach, explaining that she won't be able to come back. he jokes about her, which is rare for him, and you're given to opportunity to grieve her loss. in "a dozen tendays" (assumedly how long bg3 is), "an entire life was lived, she lived several centuries" (not exact quote).
milil, the bard playing in the center, does NOT want to be there. he's pissed that no one recognizes him (he's pissed specifically that i'm a bard and don't recognize him), i had to pass a deception check to recognize him and he cheered up and offered to change the song he's playing
there's a chest called "Chest of Grateful Words" filled with letters from your allies!
"Official Guild Letter"
Tumblr media
"Letter from Barcus"
Tumblr media
"Letter from Art"
Tumblr media
"Letter from Valeria"
Tumblr media
"Letter from Ravengard"
Tumblr media
"Letter from Sebastian"
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Letter from Florrick"
Tumblr media
"Letter from the Gur" (unascended Astarion)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Letter from Alfira" (durge, killed quil grootslang)
Tumblr media
"Letter from Dammon"
Tumblr media
"Letter from Elminster"
Tumblr media
"Letter from Nocturne"
Tumblr media
"Letter from Voss"
Tumblr media
"Letter from Hope"
Tumblr media
"Letter from Mayrina"
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"Letter from Nine-Fingers"
Tumblr media
"Letter from Zevlor"
Tumblr media
"Harp-stamped Letter"
Tumblr media
Baldur's Mouth Gazette
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
If you find anything interesting I missed, please let me know.
1K notes · View notes
lilisettean · 3 months
Text
Phantom Touch | Headcanons
Tumblr media
About: It was one thing to video call him, it was another, however, to call/answer while you were barely clothed.
Pairings: Xavier/Reader, Zayne/Reader, Rafayel/Reader
Notes: This idea came to me when Rafayel video called MC in the middle of the night (Lv 20 Random Painting). Also should I do Caleb's as well?
Warnings: 18+ only please! Enjoy :)
Tumblr media
Xavier
It was by accident when it happened. You were trying to find your favorite hairpin after your shower but it was nowhere to be found.
You searched high and low, flipped cushions and threw your blankets onto the floor. Nothing. Goddamnit you can't afford to lose that hairpin- it was one of the gifts Grandma gave you, you just simply can't lose it.
In an act of desperation, you called Xavier on your phone, not caring whether you pressed on normal call or video call. You just needed him on because you might've left it in his place.
To say Xavier was surprised the moment you came on screen would be an understatement. He almost dropped his phone (it did slip from his hands but he was quick enough to hold onto it), and not a word you said has registered in his brain.
His eyes were fixated upon the water droplets that clung to you skin, following the trail a drop of water left behind as it slid down from your neck, to your decollete, and between your cleavage. His mind was busy tearing that insolent piece of cotton fabric into shred for daring to shield you from his gaze.
It was only when you shuffled forward and waved a hand in front of the camera did he snap out of his less than innocent daydream.
"Xaiver? What are you staring at?" "Are you aware of what you are wearing?" "...Shit-"
"No, don't." He said the moment you tried to cut the call, and instead, with much strength he could muster not to ogle at your form again, he diverted your attention.
He found your hairpin lying on his bedside table and when you were about to thank him, a mischievous smile crept up his face, and you just knew what he was about to ask.
"Can I have a reward for finding it so quickly?" Xavier asked, his gaze predatory as he flicked his eyes down to stare at the towel that was clinging onto you for dear life. With slight trepidation, you settled down on the sofa, and slowly peeled off the towel that you knew he wanted off. Now.
You squeezed your thighs together and bit your lower lip when you heard the soft Mmh over the phone. He greedily drank in the sight of you, your bare, still unmarred skin glistening under the soft lights.
A daring thought suddenly struck you. Smiling at him, you brought your hands up to your breasts, propping them up and giving them a good squeeze (which he quietly groaned your name in response), before flicking your nipples.
You knew he was hard, with how he slumped against his sofa, one of his hands nowhere to be seen. The stuttered breath he let out made you wonder whether he was palming over his hard on as you gave him this little show.
He was. He was pressing his cock against his palm, rutting against it as you played with your pert nipples. He was imagining grinding his cock against you, fucking your slick folds as he buried his face between your breasts.
In a daring move, you tilted your phone downwards and lifted your legs, showing him the effect he had on you. But before you could spread yourself further to give him a better look, he suddenly stood up, giving you an eyeful of his clothed cock that was straining against the front of his pants.
Before he abruptly cut the call, he eyes drooped to a seductive narrow, and pinned you in place as he spoke.
"Don't move. I'll be there within the minute."
Tumblr media
Zayne
Zayne, despite his icy demeanor, was a softie and a worrywart when it comes to you. He would always tell you to call him once you were home just so he knows you made it back safely.
So when he received a text asking if he was free and alone instead of a call, his curiosity was piqued.
As soon as he said that yes, he was alone and about to be off work, he received another text. A text that he did not expect you to send.
It was a picture of you on his bed, wearing nothing but one of his white button up shirts, if he can even call it that. You didn't button it all the way, leaving your collarbone and cleavage bare for him to see.
He immediately video called you, and as expected, instead of commenting on your attire, the first thing he asked was-
"Why are you in my bed?" "I knew you'd ask that first. Really?"
You explained with a huff that you wanted to surprise him a little. It has been a while since you two have seen each other for more than 5 minutes, with you two being busy with work and all. And with his day off being tomorrow, you jumped on the chance to be with him.
After a beat of silence and you fiddling with the hem of his shirt, he sighed, his features softened at your nervous fidgeting.
"Well, go on then. What do you have to show me?" "Show you- Aren't you still at the hospital?" "It's a peaceful day and I'm alone in my office. Would you give me a preview at what's in store for me at home?"
He stared on intently as you teased your nipples, brushing over them while they were still covered. Your pert nipples poked through his shirt, the outline of them fueling his imagination.
If you were on his lap right now, he would've done that for you whilst sucking on one of your nipples through the shirt you were wearing.
You were about to unbutton the shirt but his voice stopped you. "No, don't. Leave it on... Good."
He made no move to touch himself, as anyone could walk in at any moment, but by God did he want to. His eyes flicked between your flushed face and your body, already imagining the places he would leave his mark on.
He already knew what he would do to you once he got home. He would set you down on his lap, forcing you to feel how hard you made him with your little show, and leave open mouthed kisses on your neck while slipping his hands under his?- no, yours now, with how well you wear it, shirt.
But deep down he knew that once he got home, he would have no patience for that. He would most likely push you down to the bed and use one hand to grope your breast, while the other fixed your hip in place, allowing no escape as he rutted his stiff cock against you. He doesn't care if his pants get ruined, he just wants you-
"Zayne?" Your voice brought him back from his thoughts. And with much reluctance, he motioned for you to stop. "That's enough for now sweetheart. I still have to get home first." "Should I send you more pictures while you're on your way?" "No need. Just be a good girl and wait for me."
Tumblr media
Rafayel
Being a painter, Rafayel would sometimes work late into the night, busy with his newest piece. And while he enjoyed the peace and quiet nightfall brings, at times he would find the studio too quiet, too suffocating, especially without you around. Thus, he would call you and ask you to keep him company as he painted.
And on this night, it was no different. Save for the brush strokes against the canvas, the room was too quiet for his liking. He had expected you to pick up within a few rings and show up disheveled on call, but as soon as you answered the call, the thought of teasing you like usual quickly dissipated.
"What- What are you wearing?" He diverted his gaze elsewhere, occasionally sneaking peeks at his phone screen while you blinked the sleep away from your eyes. Instead of your usual pyjamas, you were wearing a lingerie set he had not seen before.
He had half a mind to tell you to pull up the strap that had fell off your shoulder mid sleep, but the words died in his throat the moment you shifted and the strap slipped further down, revealing more of your decollete to him.
The blush that was already on his face intensified when he noticed the hickies on your skin, the evidence of him ravaging you highlighted by the moonlight shining through the window.
"Rafayel? What is it?" You asked, still half asleep. You wondered why he was quiet until you found him staring intently at your chest and- Oh. Of course.
You had bought it because you wanted to surprise him by taking pictures of it. But it seemed that you were too tired and fell asleep in the process. "...Surprise? I wanted to show you earlier but-" "Wait. Hold that position."
You did as you were told and froze. He was studying you again, perhaps for future reference. As much as you liked being his model, you pouted at his antics. Not even a single reaction? Sighing, you broke the silence between you two.
"I could come over and wear this for you, if you want." "You would do that for me?" "Of course." "Then come." "What?" "You said you would come over, no? Then come now. But before that..."
"Would you mind showing me more before I tear it off?" And how could you say no to a request like that?
Settling your phone down, you bent forward to show him your cleavage before standing to show off the lingerie you were wearing.
"Turn. Now hold it." You fidgeted as you faced away from the camera, wondering what he was doing as he marveled your form. The faint sound of rustling clothes and a belt unbuckling floated from the speaker, and you instantly knew what he was up to.
"Do you enjoy it that much?" "And what about it? Turn again."
As expected, he was sitting on an armchair, slowly stroking the base of his cock as he watched the thin fabric flutter around you. Heat pooled within you when caught his eyes roaming all over you, his face flushed and lips parted as he touched himself.
He groaned when you parted your legs to show him more of you, his cock throbbing at the sight of your slicked folds. Precome beaded at the tip as he stroked more, with some of it sliding down his tip and to the underside of his cock.
Something within snapped the moment you dipped your fingers into your wet entrance. And with one smooth motion, he stood up, unintentionally (or perhaps intentionally) giving you an eyeful of his stiff cock, and picked up his phone.
"Enough. Come to me now." "Just don't tear it when I'm there." "No promises." "Rafayel-" "Hurry now, before I come find you instead."
950 notes · View notes
kakujis · 11 months
Text
do you love me?;
Tumblr media
tokrev ver.
synopsis: you/they wake them/you up at 3am.
ft + wc: isagi yoichi, michael kaiser, oliver aiku. around 2k
warnings: gn!reader, no set timelines, pet names, situationship (oliver) extremely! soft! oliver!!, slightly angsty (oliver), slight jealousy (kaiser), kaiser's is suggestive, none really for isagi! aaand that should be it!
a/n: i finally finished something!! i've been in such a rut not only with writing but with reading. TnT. hopefully i can write more once my semester is finished! anyways, i wrote oliver's in basically one sitting kicking my feet n screaming. also ily to zen cus i dropped like the entire fic in their dms LMFAOO. and ily to su for proofreading for me!! hope u enjoy ♡.
Tumblr media
isagi:
you always saw the twinkle in isagi yoichi’s eyes when he talked about soccer. it was cute, charming, and part of what attracted you to him. when the two of you finally started dating, soccer was very much a part of your lives. you’d pop in at practice whenever you could and much to his delight, you’d even try to learn about his idols and the game. 
when you studied it on your own, it was fine, you could go at your own pace. but when isagi was there, it was a little different. he always had so much to say, so many techniques and teams to go over. he was like a walking soccer encyclopedia and you appreciated it, even when it got a little overwhelming. 
but tonight, as he talked your ear off about noel noa for the nth time, you found yourself dozing off. the black haired striker’s eyes were glued to the match he was playing on the tv, every so often rewinding or slowing down a play to explain it. you tried your best, really, to stay awake but it was nearing 3am and soon enough yoichi was speaking to himself. 
“man, that was sick!” he exclaims. he’s about to ask your opinion when he finally looks back to see your head in your arms, asleep. “…oh.” 
he rouses you out of sleep, shaking your shoulder gently. when you awaken you’re met with his pouting face. you blink off the drowsiness, rubbing your eyes. “sorry i dozed off…” you reach for the remote, but he stops you. “yoichi?” 
“do you love me?” you’re caught off guard by the seriousness in his voice and the intensity of his gaze. 
you nod, “of course i do.” 
“say it.” it’s not uncharacteristic for him to be intense at times, but the glint in his eye is something you usually only see when he’s playing. you didn’t think you’d see it now and it’s a bit amusing. 
“i love you, yoichi.” you say, a smug grin on your face as you poke at his pouty cheeks. “aww, are you upset?” 
snapping out of it, he waves your hand away, slightly turning while his cheeks blush bright red. “…no.” 
“my baby,” you coo, continuing to reach over and squish his cheeks, “i’m sorry for falling asleep, yoi.”
“it’s okay…” he mumbles, enjoying the attention, “i didn’t realize you were so sleepy.” 
“well, it is 3am…” you giggle, pointing to his alarm clock. 
it’s cute how fast his head whips around to look. “oh… my bad.” he apologizes, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. 
“don’t worry about it,” you shrug, before getting up and pulling at his hands. “let’s go to sleep, yeah?” 
but isagi pauses, conflicted, before glancing back at the tv. “… just one more play?” 
“yoichi!” you whine, the idea of cuddling with your boyfriend in bed being extremely appealing. 
“please?” he pleads, hands clasped, and you sigh, giving in to his doe eyes. 
“fine. one more. that’s it and then we’re going to bed.” you say, settling down next to him. but if you’re being honest, you’re never immune to isagi yoichi.
the light in his eyes as he rambles and talks to you about his favorite thing always overwhelms anything else. you love him, wholly and fully. and maybe that’s why you don’t mention anything as one play turns to two, which then turns into the entire match. not a single word escapes you as he loads up the next game, telling you “this next one is insane.” 
it’s isagi’s turn to fall asleep and as the sun peeks over the horizon, you press a peck to his cheek as you wrap a blanket over his shoulders. 
“good night, yoichi.” 
Tumblr media
kaiser:
michael kaiser was many things, first and foremost a soccer player, secondly, a striker with a god complex and most importantly, your boyfriend. well, perhaps most important to you and although you’re mostly able to cast aside that doubt to love him fully, there are still moments when you just have to hear it. 
it’s 3am and kaiser’s in deep sleep, evident by the subtle snores coming from him. in contrast, you’re fully awake and sitting next to him, one finger trailing the expanse of his skin, from the curve of his cheek to the line of his jaw. he stirs slightly, but nonetheless stays asleep and that annoys you. 
“michael,” you whine, prodding at his cheek, “do you love me?” his eyelids flutter, face contorting to the singsong of your voice. 
“huh?” he responds, eyes opening and brows furrowing into a scowl you continue to prod. he grabs your hand, pulling it away from him. “what is it?” 
“do you love me?” you repeat, happily humming at his pretty face. 
he tsks before grumbling out a “nein.” he huffs before turning over. 
you pause, before scowling yourself. “what did you just say?” 
“nein.” he reiterates, closing his eyes. “goodnight.” 
you scoff, before shaking him again. “hey… seriously!” but it’s useless. kaiser’s decided it’s time for bed. truth be told, you should probably get some sleep too. but it’s annoying when you do feel like a side character in his story and not his co-lead. fine, you can be petty too. 
you round up your pillows, sighing and making sure to climb over him as you get off the bed. he catches your wrist as you try to leave, brow arched. 
“where are you going?” he asks, confused.
“the couch.” you deadpan. 
“why?” 
“i don’t wanna sleep next to someone who doesn’t love me.” you pout, hugging your pillow tightly. 
“it was a joke, liebe.” he sighs, pulling you down back into bed. “of course, i love you.” 
“hmm… you’re just pacifying me.” you say, hoping he’ll get the hint and finally give you some of the affection you’ve been craving. 
and he does, rolling his eyes before pressing a deep kiss to your lips. he makes sure to give you a few more afterwards, your giggle floating around his ears. “happy now?” 
“very.” you smile and he smiles back, but you can’t let him think he’s won just yet. “hey, i have a joke too.” 
“yeah? and you think it’s better than mine?” he teases and you grin even wider, nodding excitedly. “i’m all ears.” 
“okay. make sure you listen and like, really listen.” you command and he nods, moving his ear closer to your lips. “you’re a better player than isagi yoichi.” 
his face falls immediately and you burst out laughing, pushing off of him and grabbing your pillow again. you figure after your little stint, you’ll seriously be sleeping on the couch. 
“super funny, right? i should be a comedian.” you muse, before leaning down and giving him a peck on the cheek. “good night, emperor.” 
you turn to leave again, but kaiser’s quick to pull you down and underneath him. you yelp as he straddles you, pinning your wrists above your head. he’s frighteningly close, the tips of his blonde and blue hair hovering over your skin. 
there’s one thing about him that you don't know and it’s that he’ll never admit how soft you make him, how it’s actually he who melts at the sound of your voice. how it’s him who wants to hear nothing but endless praise from you, so maybe he did get a little mad at that joke.
“m-michael?” you squeak, squirming under his hold, “what are you doing?” 
“what do you mean? i’ve gotta remind you who the best striker in the world is.” he states and you recognize that look in his eyes. you didn’t think it’d rile him up this much. 
“babe, it was a joke!” 
he barks a laugh as you squirm harder underneath him. “it’s gonna be a long night, liebe.” 
Tumblr media
oliver: 
“hey oliver, do you love me?” 
perhaps not the best time to ask, neon bright 3:00 AM displayed on your alarm clock lets you know that. but still, the beating of oliver aiku’s heart that drums through your ears prompts you to ask anyway. 
he’s asleep, or so you think, and shirtless, with the press of your cheek against his chest, his skin feels warm. shyly, you stay looking at the wall, sometimes trailing down to his limp hand. meanwhile, your fingers ghost over his skin, writing little “i love you”s and infinity signs like an incantation or a spell. 
“dumb question,” you continue, “i know you don’t.” you give a small smile, it’s how the situation between you two works. you can sleep together, hold hands, maybe even call each other ‘partners’, but you never breach that threshold. he’s always just out of reach.
but oliver is awake, eyes stirred open by the figure eights you’ve been writing on him. he’s been listening to you the entire time, eyes blinking up at the ceiling. 
“well… in case you were wondering, i think i love you,” you confess, your heart thumping wildly, “like a lot, actually. do you…  think i’m stupid?” you pause, before opening your mouth to say that he doesn’t have to answer, but oliver cuts you off. 
“not really.” he says, the hand that was resting on your waist, starting to stroke your skin. 
you freeze before pushing yourself up and off of him. “hey! h-how long have you been awake?” 
he smirks and you hate the way your heart flutters, “a while,” he sits up, “hey, i love myself too.” 
you deflate a little, it’s too much of the same, the same jokes and the brushing off of feelings. but you should know this by now, that he doesn’t love you. “yeah, just not me.” you look away, wishing he would lie to you just one time. “i should go-“ 
he reaches over, grabbing your chin between his fingers and leveling your gazes together. “i never said that.” 
you blink, wide-eyed and you’re not sure what to do or even what to say. and while you’re sure your heart is beating so fast you swear he can hear it, you’re also emboldened, mustering up the courage to ask, “never said what?” but your voice comes out small, whispery and featherlight. 
“that i don’t love you.” he says. he doesn’t break eye-contact, pretty two-tone eyes locked on yours. 
you can’t help your emotions, the way they swell up in you overwhelmingly, as if you’re drowning in them. 
“do you love me, oliver?” you’re too happy to be embarrassed by the break in your voice when you say his name, too fixated on the way he touches you so gently. it’s like he can’t hurt you now, no matter what he’s done before. 
he nods, the hand on your chin moving to cup your cheek as he strokes his thumb reassuringly over your skin. he catches the tears that fall, thinking that it’s much better to see you happy cry than when he does something stupid. 
“could you say it? please?” you sniffle, placing a hand over his, keening into his touch. 
he gives a breathy laugh out of nervousness, before he clears his throat and says it, loud and clear. “i love you, y/n.” 
you laugh through your tears, relieved, because all the time you spent wondering was okay and the wait was worth it. the way it rolls off his tongue is so natural and so warm it has your head spinning. 
he brings up his other hand, wiping away at the tears that continue to fall. “c’mon baby, you’re gonna cry all night?” he teases, squishing your cheeks between his hands. 
“‘m not dreaming?” you mumble, shaking your head, “this is real? you really love me?” 
maybe when you wake up in the morning it’ll be different. maybe he’ll be back to the same old oliver, the one who deflects and dodges all your questions. so maybe it is a dream. but, if this is a dream… do they always feel so good? and is it possible to stay asleep? 
he hums, before asking, “does this feel real?” as he leans in to press a kiss to your lips. it’s sincere and authentic, the kind that makes your heart bloom. he pulls away, but only slightly to rest his forehead against yours. you nod and he grins, “good.”
3K notes · View notes
seventhcallisto · 10 days
Text
Channie. Chris. ( bang chan )
Tumblr media
MDNI ! 18+ CONTENT AHEAD !
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
smut and fluff. bang chan x afab! reader (nn: sweet girl used once). Unprotected sex (wrap it pls ffs). Breeding. Slight edging. I love u's during it. Can be considered soft dom chan, but there really are no roles here, yall.
Tumblr media
Chan is such a soft lover. The type to wrap around your waist in the kitchen and kiss your shoulder, swaying you back and forth in a slow waltz. The type to kiss your neck as you let him message it. The type to go out of his way to get you something you want or like.
The type to hold an extra pair of shoes for you in case the heels you're wearing start to hurt. The type to love casual affection. The type to hold your hand and listen to you ramble with the most content and focused expression on his face. Chan was that type of lover.
Chan is also the type of lover to fold you in half as he gives you the dicking of a lifetime. With your legs over his broad shoulders and singing the sweet music only he knows how to drive out of you.
Watching your glistening cunt catch in the night light and shine with slick, creamy from the previous orgasms he has already pried out of you and yet- he's still to reach his own peak everytime he sinks back in to the hilt. Catching himself and slowing down to edge it on- he loves to talk you through it when he does it.
"Gonna cum soon sweetheart?" he'd murmur, husky and out of breath from the brutal pace he's already set for the two of you, slowing down til his thrusts are pushing you- digging deeper and deeper into your cunt until theres no space for him to go. "You're so good for me, baby. Gonna fill you real good, okay?" You're folded, yet he leans down to place his strong arms by your head. You're fucked out and it's all thanks to your boyfriend- your lover.
And he has the guts to smile, to bite his lip and kiss the corner of your mouth, leaning more of his weight onto the bed so he's practically on you- one with you. "Talk to me pretty," he'd ask again, stopping abruptly, then slowing to a grind- torture of pleasure on his handsome face, his cockhead hitting a part of you that has only ever been reached by him.
"I-I'm channie-" you hiccup as quietly as you can manage, jolting in his grasp due to the way everytime he does it, your clit throbs- sore from so many orgasms before, and you whimper once again when he slows down even more, telling you to respond in his own way. "Channie, need you to cum in me please- please please" you'd bargain- chans got a thing for breeding.
"Yeah? Say please one more time f'me-" His tired voice asks, his face hovering over yours. He watches your expressions - your feelings and the satisfaction of his sped up pounding wash over you. "My sweet girl, fuck-" he hisses when you clench again and again- signaling you're going to cum for the 4th time soon.
"Please- oh fuck- chan- chris," you whimper his name once again, something different this time - his name, which you know gets to him. That makes him weak in the knees, soft and mushy.
The way chan has you is everything to him - you're perfect, made just for him and him for you. He can't wait to marry you one day, to put a giant ring on your finger and settle down. You're everything to him- always have been- always will be.
And with another hard slam of his hips, you're scrunching up around him, calling his name with a shriveled cry and digging your nails into his back, not like he minds. Legs squeezing over his shoulder until he drops them down to place himself back between your parted and soaked thighs, hiking them up and over his arms to keep you spread for his wide form.
"Almost there baby, where d'you want it?" He groans, and it reverbs off his chest into yours, his head falling into the junction of your neck to place a sloppy kiss over the countless red blots of hickeys lining up over you. You shake with every push, every pull of his hips, and how hard he drills his cock into you, pumping you with his entire length and dragging out your already exhausting orgasm.
"In-" you stutter, whimpering once more when his dark happy trails skims over your clit from another thrust. "In me, inside chan, please chris?" And oh- it's everything to have you beg for him like this. His cock twitches- his groan deeper this time as he nears his peak.
The harder he bucks inside you, the farther you slip into his lap, his knees placed under you, your body halfway over his strong thighs, he holds you tight there with a grip to your waist, blow after blow, grunt after moan. His eyebrows scrunching, and his eyes locking with yours as he pulls back to lean his head on your forehead.
"I- fuck baby i love you so much," he strains as finally, his eyes drift shut and his face scrunches with pure unaltered bliss, his mouth falling slack. His cum floods you, warm and sticky and so much it has you gasping- his hips stuttering.
He falls over you with a heavy- breathless sigh, his sticky naked skin sticking to yours. You're finally able to catch your breath as well, thighs trembling from around his waist and then unfolding to straighten out cause they're sore, obviously. Chan breathes against you, steadying his breath and listening to yours do the same, your heart pounds against his chest and everything just feels to right to move.
He places a sweet kiss against your jaw, tugging himself to lean on his arm. His face is soft- lax and red. Yours is probably dazed, and fucked to oblivion. But chan smiles anyways, kissing you as softly as he's done hundreds of times before.
"You okay?" He questions with a hum, lips stretching out and his eyes curling to showcase how he's genuinely asking. You blink up at him. "I love you too, chris," you murmur sweetly. Chan falters, a chuckle bubbling up from his throat fondly before you pull him down into your embrace.
"I'm gonna take that as a yes, yeah?" He laughs into your shoulder. You hum happily, content to be in his strong arms and tough figure. Soft and warm and giving. Ready to show you in every way how much he adores and loves you. Just you.
932 notes · View notes
jaylver · 5 months
Text
PINKY RING — S.JY
Tumblr media
synopsis: setting up a deal with a frat boy you've just met at a party turned out to be a stupidly cute idea. who knew his drake reference and the deal involving his pinky ring would soon score him a date with you.
pairings: frat boy!jake x afab!reader
genre: strangers to lovers, frat boy + football player jake, college au, romance, fluff
warning(s): profanities, party, alcohol
wc: 2.9k
a/n: a very late contribution to jakeday! this was much longer than planned so i hope you all enjoy it! apologies in advance if the writing sucks since i've been tired all week T-T please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx
masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.
Tumblr media
Wandering into a frat party alone was quite literally the least sane thing you've done in a while.
Your best friend, Yunjin, had called you up to meet her at a frat party at the most random hour of the night. The temptation got to you for the worst as you caved in and placed aside your studies in order to get some free booze, even if they're low budget ones.
That only explained why you were there then. Looking between your phone and the sight before you as you walked, trying to get a hold of your friend. She was probably somewhere wasted and you wouldn't be surprised if it was true. 
Once you sent her a text announcing your arrival and hoping for a text back, you slipped your phone away and wandered into the kitchen area, further from the crowded area filled with people dancing quite scandalously.
Whatever dodgy concoction they had prepared there, you took some and sniffed it before taking a sip, shrugging in half approval. You'd take what you have. Soon, you settled yourself in by leaning against the counter, pulling out your phone as it had started buzzing.
You were distracted by the chiming of your phone, realising Yunjin texted back and you immediately replied back. She was, in fact, somewhere in the house, except she was with a guy. Wait, a frat boy, Jay Park? Oh, you've heard of him. 
You didn't want to say much and just texted her back to call you when it's time to leave, or if she's even leaving at all. Meanwhile, you were unaware of the additional presence who had wandered into the kitchen as you typed out your last text.
“Oh—hey,” 
You glanced up from your phone the moment you pressed 'send', staring back at a guy that you swore you've seen somewhere before, he was too familiar. He wasn't just a guy though, he was a hot one. Backwards cap on, dressed in a casual black hoodie and ripped jeans, dyed blond hair peeking out from his cap. 
That was a sight to see. 
“Hey,” you could tell he wasn't expecting your presence in the kitchen just the same as you were.
The corner of his lips twitched, head tilted to one side. “New around here? I think this is the first time I've seen you at our party,”
Our? Was he a part of the frat?
“I don't usually wander into frat parties,” you shrugged, and he nodded, smiling. 
“I'm Jake, by the way. Jake Sim. I'm a part of the frat, we usually have these types of parties on the weekend,” he extended his hand out for a handshake, to which you accepted, staring a little too longingly at his pretty hands and fingers. Don’t be a creep. 
“Am I missing out? I'm Y/N L/N,”
“Well, Y/N, maybe you are,” an apparent accent flowed from his voice, and the way he said your name shouldn't have made you scream inside. “You should come by more often, I'd love to see more of you here,”
“We'll see. I wasn't even meant to be here, but my friend called and I thought ‘why not’ so here I am,”
“It's fated, then. We're meant to meet,” he clapped, lips stretched into a cheery smile that had you swooning.
“I suppose it is,” you let him join your side in leaning against the counter, feeling the fabric of his hoodie brushing against your bare skin. “You know, you look very familiar to me, I think I've seen you before,”
“Yeah?” His tongue swept across his bottom lip, eyebrow quirking with interest.
“Football team. It's you, isn't it? The striker,”
“How did you know?” He seemed genuinely surprised, and you were in disbelief as well. He was much different compared to what you remembered.
“My friend's on the team too, Kim Sunoo,”
“Him!"
“Yes, him! I went to one of the matches and you scored in it, it was a great match," you could still recall the faint memory of Jake scoring, his name blasting from the speakers, back when his hair was coloured black.
“Wow,” Jake stared in amazement, his smile never wavered, only widening. “We're much connected than I thought,”
“We are,” you couldn't help smiling as well, finding his energy contagious and severely intoxicating. You had to turn around and take a sip of your drink as a way to not become flustered around him, but only to notice the rings resting on his fingers.
“Nice rings,” you complimented, and it seemed to be his turn to become flustered. Immediately bringing his hands up for you to look closer and showcasing his rings.
“Thanks,” he said, sounding pleased.
“You have a pinky ring too?” You pointed at his pinky, noticing the silver ring gleaming under the light.
“Pinky ring till I get a wedding ring,”
It didn't hit you until a beat later. He was quoting Drake. 
“Drake? Seriously?” A teasing grin travelled to your lips, nudging him slightly ever so naturally. He didn't complain, just reciprocated your smile, seemingly glad that you caught onto his reference.
“Hey, I'm a big fan. Sue me,”
“No judgement, I like Drake too,” you spoke your half truth, shrugging lightly.
Jake turned to look at you, a light sparkling in his eyes, telling you he had something in mind. “Hey, why don't I give you my pinky ring, and the next time we meet, you give it back to me?”
“What?”
“Let fate decide our next meeting. If we bump into each other again, you hand me back my ring, and I'll get your number. Deal?”
“Sounds good,” why were you doing this?
Even as your consciousness was telling you what stupid idea this was, you couldn’t help but feel confident. There was definitely a next time. You were sure of it. Even after Jake slipped his ring onto your pinky, feeling his skin graze against yours, you were confident that fate would bring you to him, or even him to you.
You bid him a small goodbye, watching his bright energy disappear through the door and be left with yourself, wanting him to come back. Did Yunjin and you somehow suddenly share the same taste in men? Frat boys?
Soon, you abandoned your drink and walked out of the kitchen into the party scene. To your relief, you spotted Yunjin waving at you, a tall boy with silver hair standing right beside her. That was probably Jay.
“Oh my God, I thought I lost you,” she engulfed you into one of her warm hugs while you didn't miss the lovesick smile she always had whenever she was around a crush.
“I would say the same for you,” you nudged her slightly, eyeing her romeo of the night.
“Oh—Jay, this is my best friend, Y/N. Y/N, this is Jay,” Yunjin introduced, and Jay gave you a friendly hug as a greeting. Off the bat, you could tell he was a decent guy despite being in a frat.
“You're not joining your friends for beer pong?” Yunjin pointed out to Jay and you took notice of said beer pong going on across the room. 
There he was. Jake. Standing out amongst the bunch of guys that were most likely his friends, catching your attention in an instant. His baseball cap was no longer worn backwards, sleeves rolled up and showcasing the protruding veins decorating the expanse of his arm. He was holding onto a ping pong ball, aiming at one of the red shot cups and eventually shot it in successfully, letting out a loud laugh while throwing his arms up into a flexing pose and hitting his chest.
What a frat boy. But you think he's a cute frat boy. He was an exception.
“Should we leave soon?” Yunjin had to poke your shoulder to gain your attention back to her. At that realisation, you visibly flushed a tinge of pink, coughing and nodding rather stiffly. You could tell your best friend was suspicious of you, but didn’t press on and told you Jay was dropping you two off.
What you didn’t catch onto as you left the room was Jake’s lingering gaze on you. 
He was going to get his ring back. He was confident about it.
Tumblr media
“You’re telling me you’re missing Jay’s friend?”
“I am doing exactly that,”
He wasn’t just Jay’s friend, he was also his frat brother. Yet, Jay was oblivious you two knew each other, or at least that’s what you think in your perspective. 
Telling Yunjin about your happenings from that party was both a good and bad decision. The good part was that she was happy for you. The bad part was realising how predictable you were. In her words, she knew you would fall for Jake especially since you had a weak spot for men with cute smiles. Dammit.
It has been a week since that night at the frat house. To be honest, you could be crazy and just go back to find Jake, but were you going to chase a man like that? No, wake up! But, you were also shamelessly missing him and mulling over the fact that the ring was still on your pinky. 
“This is so stupid, why is he waiting on fate to act?”
“I think it’s cute,”
“You’re hopeless,” Yunjin rolled her eyes, but you just laughed, because you, too, knew it was dumb. A stupid game that tortured you but you enjoyed the anticipation as well. “Anyway, Jay’s going to a football match later in the evening, apparently the team is playing. Before you say no, consider this, he’s paying for dinner after,”
“I like him,” you gave her your seal of approval, and from the looks of her giddy smile, she was satisfied. 
Yunjin was more than happy when she led you through the stands, locating where Jay was sitting. You threw a knowing glance at her, to which she noticed and only rolled her eyes. He greeted you with a friendly smile, saving an even brighter smile for your best friend. It was sickening, but in an affectionate way. 
Realising how you were third wheeling, you took the queue and left, wandering down the stands to get a closer look at the field. You figured that'd be a better idea now that you realised the team was warming up there.
“Y/N!” you were barely halfway down the stairs when you heard your name being called, a familiar face running towards you. 
“Jake!” You jogged a little, reaching the barrier that separated the stands and the field, essentially separating you and Jake as well.
“You're here! At a football game,” he breathed out in a daze, as if he couldn't believe you were standing in front of him.
“Jay brought me and Yunjin here,” you slyly pointed at the duo that sat further up the stands, meeting Jake's playful smirk. You two had the same thought in mind. “Oh right—pinky ring,”
You raised up your right hand, his ring still wrapped around your pinky. At that, Jake's eyes only lit up, flickering between your face and the ring, his smile growing wider.
“You wear it everywhere?”
A rush of heat spread across your cheeks, you found yourself shying away from his gaze. “I didn't know where I'd find you,”
“Guess you finally found me, and I found you too,”
“I'm glad,” you fidgeted the ring mindlessly, looking between it and Jake before you realised the deal. "Should I hand it back to you first?”
“No—wait—maybe after the game?” His indecisiveness was killing him, and having you standing in front of him, it made him extra jittery, he was grateful the barriers were there. “I have a feeling you wearing it will somehow pass on good luck to me,”
Your eyebrows furrowed, a smile pulling at your lips. “Don't know how that works, but I'll do whatever you say,”
“It's true! It's called intuition. I'll win the game and score a goal,” he said ever so confidently, a grin that was challenging your doubts. 
“I believe you,” you said in between giggles, unaware of Jake's smile growing wider as he watched you laugh. “Go and win this one like you always do,”
“I will! Meet me after the game! Get your number and the ring ready,” he casted a wink at you, waving a small momentary goodbye before joining his team back in warming up. 
You eventually joined the two lovebirds and waited for the game to start, a certain feeling of giddiness bubbling in your abdomen. When it was finally time, you watched intently as the referee blew the whistle and the home team began the game. The number five on his back was easy to detect, your eyes followed it the whole time as he ran past defenders and scored a goal.
You and your friends jumped out of your seats in excitement. Yelling and cheering the moment you heard his name being blasted from the speakers. He did prove you right, he scored a goal. The next thing you knew before you could even process it was him pointing up at you. It was clearly directly at you, no mistake at all. As cliche it could get, he sent you a flying kiss, and you only matched his energy, catching it and laughing like some school girl.
He was soon tackled by his teammates and whisked away to resume the game. You were left in the stands smiling like a fool, unable to hide your happiness and blushing cheeks even though people around you had witnessed it whole, including your own friends. But who cares, right?
The game ended with the home team winning and obviously, everyone was in great spirits after. You told Yunjin that you’re finding Jake first, and as she left with Jay, you swore you heard him asking ‘since when did they know each other?’ 
Heading down the stands, you spotted Jake immediately. The team was still lingering around the field, but the second Jake’s eyes landed on you, he excused himself and ran towards you. The widest smile was present on his face, he was shining brightly under the dark skies. 
“Hey!” he pulled you in a hug, reaching over the barrier for you. He was sweaty, but you didn’t mind it. It was his presence and tight hold that you focused on.
“Congrats on the win! You did great,” you said as you pulled away, reciprocating his smile. 
“Thank you. It’s nothing,”
“Okay, you scoring a goal is not ‘nothing’,”  
“But I was right, wasn’t I?”
You rolled your eyes at him, hating that he wasn’t entirely wrong. “Whatever,” you said dismissively, earning a light laugh from him. You took the chance to slip the ring off your pinky, taking his hand in yours, instantly surprising him since it was a totally unexpected move. “Your pinky ring, as promised,”
“Oh, almost forgot,” he let you slip the ring back to the original spot, feeling your touch on his skin and reeling from your close proximity. 
“As for my number … I’ll give it to you once you’re done, I don’t have anything to write on,” you waved your phone in hand, casting him an apologetic smile.
“It’s totally fine. Will you be willing to wait?”
“I’m alright with it. I thought you’re joining us for dinner?”
“Right, Jay told me,” he snapped his fingers, recalling his friend’s text message. How could he have forgotten? He almost asked you out for dinner later as a date. 
“He’s paying,”
“Sweet,” he basically hollered, punching the air stiffly and you laughed at his demeanour. He’s so weird, but in a cute way.
Jake was biting on his lips once a short silence settled between you two. You could tell he was pondering and thinking about his next words. That sweet smile returned back to his lips. “Can I take you out for dinner soon?”
How could you say no?
“I’m down. Definitely yes,”
Jake almost looked relieved, but there was also a sparkle that you saw in his eyes that shined brightly once you’ve given him your answer. You could feel your own heart swelling at the sight of him. His gaze held everything he needed to say. He stared at you with a kind of longing and pining that you couldn’t pinpoint. 
“Great, fantastic,” Jake whispered under his breath, seemingly in disbelief and his dazed look only made you giggle. “I’ll catch up with you after I shower, give me some time and wait for me!”
“I will! The three of us will wait for you so go wash up,”
“Alright, alright,” he threw his hands up in surrender, hesitant to walk away as he wished to talk to you more, but he stank and was covered with sweat, so he didn’t have much choice. 
“Wait for me!” he said, slowly inching away with the silliest grin, eyes crinkling at the edges. 
You responded by gesturing your thumbs up, watching as he turned his back on you, but not even a second later he turned his head back, a small smile still remained. He then started jogging towards the benches, and you definitely didn’t miss his excited jump. 
Tumblr media
How were you supposed to survive that dinner date with an endearing, sweet and cute guy like him? 
The truth was, you weren’t.
( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )
☆ permanent taglist (open):
@silentkarnival @strvlveera @freshsaladbowl @bejewelledgirl @fakeuwus @yenqa @hsgwrld @ilovegyuvin @enhacatalog @aishigrey @shinrjj @kgneptun
2K notes · View notes
stararch4ngelqueen · 5 months
Note
I just realized that we've never talked about anything like "morning wood" scene where reader wakes up first and sees her man's cock rising. (i can't choose between jason or simon)
Why not both 🧍🏽‍♀️
I only have strength to do character inclusive before hat man takes me. Please enjoy ❤️��
🎩 🤺
Time Written - 9:07 p.m
Tumblr media
The hour was early, the sun non existent in the skies just yet, but it’s presence would soon accompany the beautiful violet-tangerine clouds merging into dark, dull gray.
Your beloved still has his arm snugly wrapped around your waist, his thumb nudged just underneath the hem of your large shirt, mindlessly rubbing along soft skin. The best parts of waking up in the mornings weren’t just waking up alongside your personal body heater known as your muscly teddy bear, clutching you close like said plush toy.
Half of the time, it’s the not so subtle surprise pressed up against your lower back and rear when your mind pokes out of sleep, making it even more difficult for you to get comfortable again after being painfully aware of it.
Most of the time when it occurs, as does the ache in your lower tummy bloom; a need for him, an eager response of your body towards his.
He’s blissfully unaware of how hard his cock had gotten, too lost in the throws of sleep while clutching you close like a doll. It’s the rare occasion he slept with you a full night instead of coming home in the early hours of the morning or the middle of the night. The rare occasion where civil duties weren’t needed or expected from him, having him all to yourself.
While he appreciates coming home to a hot meal and a warm bed after a long patrol, it wasn’t enjoyable without you in the sheets with him. His body surely expressed just how much he had missed you.
You wondered what he might’ve dreamed of right this very moment. Was it an innocent, mindless walk in the park or the beach with you during a warm sunset? Or, was he living through a fantasy of burying his thick cock in between your plush thighs? Holding your head down against his own pillow while breeding your needy little cunt?
Whatever the cause, it left you quivering with a growing need to find out.
Your natural curiosity had you reach your hand behind you, brushing along bare skin of his lower torso where his tank top had ridden up, resting your fingers along his outer hip. Trailing along his lower waist, you shuffled your hips just a bit until you prod along your desired goal.
He emits a content little groan after a faint hitch in his breath, a soft sound that only lasts for a few moments. Satisfied with the result, your hand gives a soft squeeze along the pleasantly warm length, comfortably hidden from you under thick, navy fabric.
His breathing starts to slow down as soon as you start to move your fingers. Slow, teasing little squeezes just along the blunt tip, massaging down the length of his cock. How it irked you to brush your thumb along his sensitive underside, making your mouth water and your thighs slightly clench.
“Morning, hun.” His voice is hoarse, letting out a short yawn. He still keeps his arm around your middle, burying his face into your sweet hair after you settle with the startle of him waking up without your knowledge.
You turn, your loose shirt slightly twisted by your movements as you face your sweetheart, taking in his adorably tussled hair and sleepy eyes boring into yours.
His smug, little semi smirk lets you know that he might not be entirely surprised by this circumstance. He doesn’t seem embarrassed or ashamed by this either. He seems more amused than anything, especially since his favorite girl could do something about it.
You press a soft kiss against his lips, one that left him confused when he attempted to lean for more before you abruptly pull away. He whispers your name in question, lightly surprised when you kiss the corner of his mouth, down his chin, underneath his sharp, lightly stubbled jaw.
“So it’s that kind of morning, huh?” He questions, his Adam’s apple bobbing after you kiss it, his voice still raspy from sleep.
“Mhm,” you hum, your fingers eagerly slipping just underneath the hem of his sweatpants. He contentedly sighs, letting you have your fun now that he knows you’re in one of your playful little moods.
Kissing down along his chest, following the roadmap of his main scar down towards the rich, dark happy trail that peaked out of his sweatpants.
His breath hitches at the touch of your hands squeezing him through the damn fabric barrier, and he finds it’s a little bit harder to keep his cool at this stage. You can really do that to him, and it’s like nothing can ever compare.
“What’s gotten into you, sweetheart?” He amusingly murmurs, his voice still soft and husky.
Should be you, soon enough. You wanted to say back, but pursed your lips to prevent saying it. He knew; he beat you to it merely two damn seconds after he asked it.
It would be a shame to make a mess on such cool toned, dark gray silk sheets. Freshly washed, too.
He’s trying to resist as much as he can, but you’re just excitingly relentless when it comes to getting what you want. This morning, it just happens to be him.
“You tryin’ to ruin me already, aren’t you?” He chuckles, a handsome, rugged sound that shoots arousal down your spine.
“Mhmm,” You hum, starting to pull down the waistband just enough. His swollen, eager cock quickly greets you, hot and heavy in your hand, the tip practically weeping for more of your touch. A heavy, glistening bead trickles down the blunt head, perfectly caught along the tip of your tongue to taste him.
Settling perfectly snug against his legs, curled perfectly per comfort, you trail your tongue under the head, lapping along that particular spot that garnered a beautiful reaction outta him. His head tilted back against his pillow, brows scrunched from light ripples of euphoria, fists lightly clenching along blankets tossed aside.
“Shiiit… really ruinin’ me, sweetheart.”
You stop for a second, smiling a bit while rolling your thumb close to the base. “Should’ve specified.”
He lets out a soft snort, expressing his affection through amused chuckles and heart eyes through a heavy lidded gaze.
This morning is already off to a great start. He’s trying to think of a way to one-up you, but he honestly is just too tired for all of that.
You barely had just a bit of him in your mouth, providing such simple kitten licks, and he displayed such heavenly responses that bloomed your ego to wonderfully high levels.
Then again, you seem to be up and about already, so maybe he’ll have to put in some effort after you pamper him. You’ll quickly enact upon what he so eagerly desired to reenact from his dream; properly face fucking his sweetheart. Glossy lips pressed against his pelvis while bullying himself deep down your throat, further fueled by those obscenely filthy chokes he adored so much.
A well deserved throatfuck for such an adorably sassy mouth.
2K notes · View notes
sadnymi · 20 days
Text
「 ✦ cloud nine p2.✦ 」
Mattheo riddle × reader [part1]
Summary: The "jinx girl," as they call her, is said to bring bad luck. However, when Mattheo Riddle decides to get to know the school's most neglected girl and takes matters into his own hands, Y/N's life is turned upside down in a mere night.
Warnings:angst, smut, fluff
Words: 13.5k
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
[ A Cry for Help (and Hippogriffs)]
Dear Uncle Ben ,
Consider this my official "You were absolutely right (but with way more heartbreak)" letter. Remember all those warnings you showered me with before I left for Hogwarts? Werewolves, Dementors, rogue Gillyweed incidents (honestly, who even uses that stuff anymore?) You covered the whole spectrum of nightmarish magical creatures. But why, oh why, did you neglect to warn me about charming Slytherins with a really really pretty smiles and the ability to shatter hearts ?
Yes, Uncle Ben, your favorite niece (and, let's be honest, only niece) has officially fallen from cloud nine and landed face-first in a puddle of disappointment. Remember Mattheo Riddle? The one with the eyes like melted chocolate and a smile that could disarm a grumpy Hippogriff? Turns out….well, you get the picture. My heart is in as many pieces as a poorly repaired Floo Network."
So, here's the thing, Uncle Ben . **I'm done. Hogwarts can keep its feasts, its Quidditch matches, and its overly enthusiastic Potions lessons.** I wouldn't be caught dead on the Hogwarts Express, and frankly, the Burrow isn't exactly calling my name right now either.
This is where you come in, my valiant (and hopefully broomstick-wielding) savior. **I need an extraction, Uncle Ben . A daring rescue. A grand exit that would make even Dumbledore raise an eyebrow.** Floo powder me out? Sneak me aboard a disguised Thestral? Honestly, at this point, I'd even settle for a well-timed Hippogriff stampede (though maybe not – those beaks look awfully sharp).
So please uncle Ben As soon as this letter reaches your extraordinary hands, pack your Niffler leash, your Newt-approved travel kettle, and anything else that might help
Your distraught (and slightly heartbroken) niece,
Y/N
P.S. Please bring some Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans. Maybe a chocolate frog or two wouldn't hurt either.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
After folding the letter with care, I sealed it using a wax stamp adorned with a grumpy-looking Kneazle, a delightful creation from a talented first-year Hufflepuff. Placing it inside an owl-sized envelope addressed to "Benjamin Scamander, Ministry of Magical Creatures, Department for Beast Regulation and Control," I sent it off with a silent prayer for a speedy rescue.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
Y/N
Consider it done. Talon wasn't thrilled about the Beans (apparently, they don't quite mesh with his sophisticated palate), but the chocolate frogs seemed to appease him. Be ready by nightfall. We'll have a proper family reunion, Hippogriff style.
P.S. Don't worry about any "Hippogriff stampedes." Talon's surprisingly well-mannered (for the most part).
Love,
Uncle Ben
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
After two blissful days away from Hogwarts at Uncle Ben's cozy cottage in the Welsh hills, I woke up to find him bustling about the room. Despite the comfort and serenity of our time together, I couldn't shake off the tears that stained his (probably very expensive) linens.
He lumbered in, a steaming mug clutched in his hand, followed by a bewildered-looking Billywig (apparently, they weren't exactly known for their graceful exits).
"Here," he said kindly, placing the mug on the bedside table. "Peppermint tea. Guaranteed to cure a broken heart… or at least numb it a bit."
I took a shaky sip, the warmth spreading through me like a gentle hug. Uncle Ben perched on the edge of the bed, concern evident in his gaze that battled with his usual amusement.
"Alright, spill it," he finally said, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "What's got you blubbering like a Bowtruckle caught in a rainstorm?"
I choked on a sob, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. "It's just… everything. Mattheo… the rumors… the whole thing feels so stupid."
"Stupid? Sweetheart, this is practically a textbook case of teenage wizarding drama!," Uncle Ben said with a chuckle.
"First, the rumors. Turns out Charlie Spinnet, fancies you and that by the way explains the sudden change in cologne and his haircut whenever he visits. But then instead of acting like a normal human being, he decided to spread those ridiculous stories about you being a jinx?"
I nodded, sniffling. "And then there's Riddle Jr.," Uncle Ben continued, his voice laced with a hint of disapproval. "Used you for a dare? Honestly, these Slytherins – where's the chivalry gone? Back in my day, we at least serenaded our crushes with a well-timed love potion, not a staged play."
"I know right? !" I cried, wiping away fresh tears, he come closer pulling me into a warm hug.
When the last tear finally dried, a heavy silence settled between us. My eyelids drooped, exhaustion pulling me under. "Uncle Ben," I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep, "Can I… can I leave Hogwarts?"
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. "Is that what you want, Y/N?"
"I don't… I don't want to see him, or them, or…" My voice trailed off, the thought of facing whispers and pitying glances unbearable.
He squeezed my hand gently. "There are other schools, Y/N. Places where you can learn, grow, and maybe even find someone who truly appreciates you."
A flicker of hope sparked within me. A fresh start? A chance to heal away from the prying eyes and judgmental whispers? "Do you think… could I transfer… maybe to Beauxbatons?"
Uncle Ben chuckled. "Beauxbatons? Now that's an interesting choice. But hey, if you fancy learning with a bunch of wand-waving fashionistas, who am I to say no?"
The crisp Welsh air whipped through my hair as I sat on the porch swing, watching the sun set over the rolling hills. Uncle Ben's cottage, nestled amongst ancient oaks, seemed even cozier with the warm, orange light bathing its stone walls.
Thankfully, he'd managed to smooth things over with my parents, convincing them it would be perfect for me to stay with him until I figured out what to do about school.
Weeks melted into each other, and a unsettling undercurrent began to ripple through the otherwise idyllic setting. Every boy who showed even a flicker of interest in me or mustered the courage to ask me out –vanished after our initial encounter. Poof. Gone.
Only to reappear the next day, looking sheepish and pale, with mumbled apologies for missing our planned date . "something came up" or a sudden "family emergency."
kind, awkward Liam, sporty William , even that quiet bookworm Ethan – they all faced the same fate , a freckled boy named Callum, practically leaped over a nearby toadstool with a yelp, his face blanching as if he'd seen a ghost. It was as though the sight of the bumpy amphibian unearthed a buried terror within him.
And it’s seems like anyone who would show any interest in me will face the same fate
Case in point: a particular book I had discussed with a boy who worked at the library and had also asked me out for a date. The next day, that very book was on uncle Ben leaving room the next day and I knew for sure that uncle Ben wasn’t the one who did that .
Curiosity piqued, I went to the library to inquire about the book's whereabouts, only to find the boy in a state of sheer terror. He avoided eye contact and stammered out a nervous apology, his fear palpable in the way he trembled. It was as if he had encountered something terrifying, something that left him traumatized overnight. Unsettled by the encounter, I sought help from another library assistant to locate the book I wanted. This time, the assistant was more than eager to assist, his eyes darting around nervously as if expecting something unexpected to happen again.
Weeks dragged by, each day a monotonous echo of the last.
As I wake up today a tear slipped down my cheek, tracing a warm path through the cool morning air. I cursed myself under my breath, blinking furiously to clear my vision. There it was again, the lingering echo of his touch, the warmth of his smile, all remnants of a cruel dream.
Damn it. I cursed myself under my breath, throwing the covers back with a huff. How dare I miss him? How dare my traitorous subconscious paint him in a loving light after everything? The betrayal, the lies, they were all still raw, a constant reminder of his deceit.
Feeling the need for some solace and quiet reflection, I decided to head to the library
The usually a comforting haven, was eerily silent. A prickle of unease crawled up my spine. Did the boy who worked here quit ? Thanks a lot, Mattheo.
Pushing open the library doors, I was greeted by an unsettling emptiness. Pushing the thought aside, I navigated the towering bookshelves, half expecting some kind of magical mishap – maybe a rogue pixie infestation? With a spine-tingling creak. An unsettling feeling wormed its way into my stomach. Surely Johnny, the cute boy who worked here, wouldn't leave the entire library unattended?
"Hello, Johnny?" I called out, my voice echoing eerily in the vast space. No answer. Great. Just fantastic.
Shrugging it off, I ventured deeper into the labyrinth of bookshelves. The silence pressed in on me, broken only by the soft pad of my footsteps. Halfway expecting a rogue Acromantula to drop from the ceiling or a mischievous pixie to trip me with a strategically placed shoelace, I navigated the towering stacks.
Suddenly, a loud creak pierced the silence. My heart lurched, and I spun around, wand instinctively halfway out of my pocket. The heavy library door swung shut with an ominous finality. For a moment, I stood frozen, every nerve on high alert. Was I alone?
and there he was ... His usual playful smirk was replaced by a furrowed brow and a flicker of something… hurt? Regret? It was a confusing cocktail that sent my carefully constructed facade teetering on the edge of collapse.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, threatening to burst from my chest. My carefully crafted mask of indifference felt like it was cracking under the sheer force of seeing him.
the silence of the library seemed deafening, amplifying the chaotic symphony playing out inside me.
I plastered a smile on my face, hoping it came across as confident and not the terrified mess I truly felt. This was ridiculous. He was the one who lied and betrayed me, not the other way around. Yet, here I was, feeling like I was the one on trial.
"Dramatic much?" I spat, my voice laced with venom. "So what's the deal now, Riddle? Bored with your little toad transformation hobby? Decided to haunt the library instead?"
He gave me a slow once-over, his gaze lingering a beat too long. It sent a shiver down my spine, a confusing mix of anger and a vulnerability I desperately tried to suppress.
Folding my arms, I tried to project an air of annoyance. "Look, Riddle," I said, forcing a harsher tone than I felt. "Let's cut to the chase. Open the door and disappear."
As he took a tentative step towards me, the carefully constructed wall around my emotions started to crumble. His eyes held a depth of emotion I couldn't decipher – hurt? Regret? It was a confusing mix that threatened to unravel me.
"You never mentioned you were a Scamander," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. The sound of it after all this time, even laced with the echoes of past pain, was a punch to the gut.
-well technically I was from my mother side but i never dared to say that to anyone afraid to bring shame to the family name , because I never felt like I deserved to.
Tears pricked at the back of my eyelids, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corner of my lips. "And you," I choked out, the words raw with hurt, "never mentioned being fucking liar . Seems like we're even, wouldn't you agree?"
he started to speak. "I know you don’t want to listen—"
Frustration bubbled over before he could finish his sentence. "Why are you even here, Riddle?" I snapped. "You know I don't want to hear your excuses."
His gaze held mine, unwavering despite the storm brewing in my own eyes.
"Stop staring at me like that!" I hissed, the vulnerability I desperately tried to hide threatening to spill over.
Desperate to break the tension, I lunged for the door, yanking on the handle. Panic surged as it remained stubbornly shut. "What's wrong with this stupid door?" I yelled, "We can't use magic outside Hogwarts!" I exclaimed, bewildered. "Did you do something to the door?" Kicking it with my foot in frustration.
Spinning back to face him, my voice trembled with a mix of fury and fear. "What did you do to those boys, Mattheo? Turned them into toads?"
A smirk played on his lips, a sight that only intensified my urge to lash out. "Not all of them," he countered, his voice laced with a hint of something… jealousy? "Why? Do you care about them?"
“Apparently I did “I challenged, my voice laced with a bitterness I couldn't hide, "That's why I agreed to go out with them in the first place."
His smugness evaporated, replaced by a desperate plea that sent a shiver down my spine. "Don't go to Beauxbatons, love," he pleaded, his voice barely a whisper, laced with such raw emotion it threatened to crack the dam of my anger ,considering his impressive stalking skills I wasn’t surprised he knew about that ..
"Don't call me that, Riddle," I choked out, squeezing my eyes shut to hold back the traitorous tears that welled up. When I opened them again, the sight that greeted me was my breaking point.
Hurt, confusion, and a flicker of something that looked suspiciously like longing swirled in his eyes. "Why - why did you keep calling me that? Why not say my name?" he asked, his voice thick with a pain that mirrored my own.
"It's just Riddle for me now ," I said, my voice cold, a desperate attempt to shield myself from the storm of emotions brewing within me.
"Please," he whispered, the word hanging heavy in the air. "Please don't go to Beauxbatons."
"Get out of my way," I snapped, my voice laced with a venom I barely recognized. "I won't say it again."
He took a hesitant step forward, his eyes pleading. "I'm not above begging," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I'll do anything you ask. You say you hate me, then hate me. Ruin my life. Do whatever will make you feel better, just do it in front of me. Stay at Hogwarts."
Shock rendered me speechless. "Don't do this," he continued, his voice cracking. "Not for me, but for you. Don't run away. If anyone deserves to leave Hogwarts, it's not you. Please, don't do this."
His words hung heavy in the air, each one a shard of truth that pierced the carefully constructed wall of anger I'd built around myself. "Let go of my hand, Mattheo," I whispered, not daring to look at him. He released me slowly, his touch a lingering ghost on my skin.
The silence stretched on, heavy and thick. Finally, I forced myself to meet his gaze. My own eyes, red-rimmed and tear-filled, mirrored the raw emotion in his. With a shaky breath, I whispered, "Open the door now , please."
He nodded, his face etched with pain. The door swung open silently, and for a moment, our eyes locked. Then, without a word, I turned and walked towards the door.
But before I reached the doorway, a new urgency filled his voice. "Y/N, wait!" He reached out a hand, but stopped himself before making contact. "I know I messed up. There's no excuse for what I did, but please believe me – I love you. And I'm not giving us up. I'll do whatever it takes to prove it to you."
The weight of his words hung in the air, a challenge and a plea rolled into one. My heart pounded a frantic rhythm against my ribs, Taking a deep. I turned and walked out, leaving Mattheo standing alone in the empty library.
Reaching Uncle Ben's cozy cottage, I fumbled with the latch, my vision obscured by a fresh wave of tears. The door creaked open to reveal Uncle Ben, his face creasing in concern at the sight of me. Before I could even think of a response, I was enveloped in his warm, familiar embrace.
"Merlin's beard, Y/N," he chuckled, his voice laced with concern, "what happened? Did you lose a duel with a particularly grumpy pixie?"
Pulling back, I managed a watery smile. "Something like that," I mumbled, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. Uncle Ben's gaze narrowed, his playful demeanor replaced by a more serious one.
"You know, all this tears and sniffles could lead one to believe…"
He paused dramatically, dragging out the suspense. "You are not pregnant, are you?”
"Pregnant? Uncle Ben, seriously?"
He threw his head back and laughed, a booming sound that filled the room. "Just checking! Seriously that world won’t survive another riddle “
We sat in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound the crackling fire in the hearth.
"You know," he finally said, his voice gentle, "sometimes the heart wants what it wants, regardless of past hurts." He met my gaze, his eyes filled with a knowing warmth. "The question is, Y/N, what does yours truly want?"
"I don't really know," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "One thing's for sure, though. I'm done running. I can't keep letting fear dictate my life."
“Every time something gets hard, I pack my metaphorical bags and vanish. But this time… this time it feels different."
Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. "There's this anger inside me, this need for revenge," I confessed, letting out a shaky breath. "It scares me, Uncle Ben. "
Uncle Ben reached for me his hand warm and comforting on mine. "There's a difference, Y/N, between righteous anger and destructive vengeance," he said softly. "Anger can be a powerful motivator, a fuel that can propel you forward. But it's crucial to channel it, to use it to grow stronger, not to let it control you."
Turning to him, I met his gaze with a newfound determination. "So," I started, a mischievous glint sparkling in my eyes, "would you help me pack up my bags for Hogwarts? And maybe... with something 'Scamander related' ?"
A playful smile mirrored mine on his face. "Always up for a good mystery, Y/N," .
The Hogwarts Express journey wasn't the gauntlet of whispers and pointed fingers I'd braced myself for. The carriage felt eerily quiet, devoid of the usual gossipy chatter and giggling. A part of me wondered if this unsettling silence was Mattheo's doing.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I rounded the corner, the familiar brick facade of the school looming ahead. Taking a deep breath.
I saw him.
He was leaning against the oak tree by the entrance, a casual posture that couldn't quite hide the tension in his shoulders. His gaze was fixed on the school doors, and for a thrilling moment, I thought I might have imagined him there.
But then, our eyes met.
His breath hitched ever so slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before a slow smile bloomed on his face. It wasn't a wide, dazzling grin, but a soft, genuine one that crinkled the corners of his eyes.
The next morning, a nervous energy thrummed through me. Gone was the urge to flee; instead, a steely determination burned bright. I arrived at Charms class, ridiculously early, senses sharp with focus.
Adrian Pucey sauntered in, brow furrowed. "Y/N? What are you doing here so early? Malfoy's the one meeting me," he said, surprise flickering in his eyes.
"Just eager for Charms," I replied coolly. "and you said Malfoy ? No idea, really”
Actually I was the one who wrote him the fake note with Malfoy’s name to come earlier.
He cleared his throat, avoiding my gaze. "Look, about what happened , believe me what Mattheo did to me after was enough to ——"
"Don't worry about it, Adrian," I interrupteda sly smile playing on my lips."Things happen."
His surprise deepened. "You...you forgive me that easily?"
Pulling a cupcake from my bag, I offered it. "Freshly baked. Want some?"
Hesitantly, he took a bite. "Sure, thanks."
"Did you know," I said casually, "Flobberworm milk compels truth?" I winked.
Stepping closer, cupcake in hand, I re-offered it. "Second chances deserve a second cupcake, wouldn't you say?"
He hesitated, then took another bite. "Thanks," he mumbled, cheeks warming.
"Speaking of truth-telling," I said, leaning in conspiratorially, "did you know the tears of a phoenix can be used to create a voice projection charm? Like, if I whispered something to a cupcake with phoenix tears baked in, and you ate it, you'd hear it in your mind ."
He blinked, clearly unsure whether to believe me or not.
"Curious, isn't it," I murmured, "the things you can learn when you spend your summer with magical creatures."
Adrian stammered, "Wh-what have you done?"
"Ever wonder what happens when a Hufflepuff marries a Slytherin?" I continued, savoring his confusion.
A playful glint entered my eyes. "Well, for one, someone might get a taste of their own medicine," I quoted my mother with a smirk.
He attempted nonchalance. "Kids would be too good for Slytherin, not quite Hufflepuff."
"And that," I said, a triumphant smile blooming, "is where things get interesting. Especially with a Scamander in the mix.”
I continued, a triumphant grin spreading across my face.“And what happens when you push a Scamander kid too far?" I continued, a triumphant grin spreading across my face. "They use their knowledge, their magical creatures... and maybe a touch of Slytherin cunning for a little revenge.
He backed away, eyes wide.
The bell clanged, shattering the playful tension between Adrian and me. Professor Flitwick,bustled in, his voluminous black robes billowing around him like a miniature storm cloud.
"Good morning, class!" he boomed, "Today, we delve into the fascinating art of Wandless Charms! A skill that separates the truly magical from the...well, let's just say it requires a certain finesse."
Professor Flitwick launched into a lively lecture, demonstrating simple levitation charms with a flourish. As he conjured a teacup to pirouette in the air, I noticed Adrian fidgeting in his seat. Leaning in, I whispered playfully, "Enjoying the class, are we, Pucey?"
He shot me a panicked glance, then mumbled something inaudible. Taking a deep breath, I decided to push my luck a little further. With a mischievous glint in my eyes, I mouthed, "Tell the truth about what you feel of this class ."
Suddenly, Adrian's hand shot up, waving wildly. Professor Flitwick, momentarily distracted, peered over his thick spectacles at the unexpected outburst.
"Mr. Pucey?" he inquired, a quizzical eyebrow raised.
"Professor," Adrian blurted out, his voice surprisingly loud in the quiet room, "I hate Charms! It's useless and frankly, you're a terrible teacher!"
Suddenly, a loud, booming voice erupted from Adrian's mouth, echoing through the entire classroom. "I HATE CHARMS! It's the most useless class ever, I CHEATED on the exam LAST YEAR, and And I've been doing everything just to be the center of attention. I've lied, manipulated, and stepped on others to make myself look better."!"
The entire class erupted in stunned silence, followed by a wave of uncontrollable laughter. Adrian's jaw hung slack, his eyes wide with horror.
Professor Flitwick, his face purple with rage, sputtered, his fist raised in the air. "Mr. Pucey! Ten points from Slytherin! Detention for a month! And perhaps a visit to Madam Pomfrey to check your sanity!"
Adrian sunk deeper into his seat, the laughter morphing into snickers and whispers
The laughter slowly faded, replaced by the echoes of Professor Flitwick's threats. I couldn't help but stifle a triumphant smirk. Adrian practically resembled a puddle of misery in his seat, the color completely drained from his face. Mission accomplished.
Just as I reached the aisle, a hand shot out, grabbing my waist in a surprisingly firm grip. Before I could yelp in surprise, two strong hands was on either side of me , pinning me against the cool stone wall. I found myself staring into the eyes of none other than Mattheo .
"That," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine, "was fucking hot."
He brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear with his thumb, Our gazes locked, the air crackling with sudden awareness.
My gaze remained steely, unflinching. "You liked that?" I challenged, my voice laced with a dangerous edge.
"I like everything you do," he replied with a smirk.
"Good," I said, leaning in closer, my voice barely a whisper. "Because that was just child's play. compared to what I'm planning for you, Riddle"
The bell echoed through the hallway, shattering the moment. Mattheo reluctantly released me, a hint of something akin to fascination flickering in his eyes. "Can’t wait my love ," he winked, a mischievous glint sparkling within, before disappearing into the throng of students.
My success with Adrian fueled a mischievous fire within me. The thrill of using magical creatures for a little payback was intoxicating. Professor Flitwick's class became my testing ground, a petri dish for brewing delightful chaos.
Every person who participated in the stupid play faced my revenge; none escaped unscathed.
The once dreaded nickname "Jinx Girl" had faded into a distant memory. This year, I was Lady Luck, a title whispered with a mix of awe and amusement. My string of successful pranks, each meticulously crafted with a dash of magical creature mischief, had transformed my reputation.
The whispers started subtly, like the rustling of leaves in the forbidden forest. "Did you see what happened ? Y/N's behind it, for sure!" or "Isn't it strange how everything's turned around for her lately?" It was a subtle shift, but the air crackled with a new awareness. The "Jinx Girl" label was fading, replaced by a more intriguing title - Lady Luck.
One gloomy afternoon, as I settled into a plush armchair by the crackling fire, a hesitant knock echoed through the room.
"Come in," I called out, peering over the worn pages of a Charms textbook.
The door creaked open, revealing a sheepish-looking Charlie . His blonde hair seemed to lose its usual vibrancy under the dim light, and his freckles stood out starkly against his pale face.
"Y/N," he mumbled, scuffing his worn boots on the floor. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Sure, Charlie," I said, patting the empty space beside me.
He shuffled in place, fiddling with his wand. "It's... well, everything. The rumors, the play, everything."
“ Look, Y/N, I'm so incredibly sorry. I know I shouldn't have spread those rumors. I... honestly, I was a complete idiot."
"I thought," Charlie continued, his voice laced with shame, "that if I spread those rumors, every boy would stay away from you. I didn't think it would get this bad."
A mixture of anger and curiosity bubbled within me. "Why, Charlie?" I asked, my voice calmer than I felt.
He took a deep breath, his gaze filled with regret. "I… I like you, Y/N a lot since we were just kids but you never noticed me ," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "And when I saw you with Mattheo, well, and after everything he did..."
He hung his head. "And the play," he mumbled. "It was me. I told Adrian about your past. I was so angry… jealous, really. After seeing you with Mattheo."
A wave of emotions washed over me. Anger for his actions, confusion for his feelings, and a spark of something else – mattheo wasn’t the one who told them about what happened .
Taking another deep breath, I met Charlie's gaze. "Those rumors hurt," I admitted, my voice firm but gentle. "And the play…" I trailed off, choosing my words carefully. "It was a low blow, Charlie. But…" I hesitated, searching for the right words.
"But you were scared," I finished, a hint of empathy softening my tone. "Jealous, even. It's okay to feel those things, Charlie."
He looked up, a flicker of hope igniting in his blue eyes. "Do you… forgive me?"
I studied him for a moment, taking in his genuine regret. "I do," I said finally. "But forgiveness doesn't erase the consequences. You hurt me, Charlie, and you hurt others I will never forget that ."
Charlie's shoulders slumped. "I know," he said, his voice filled with remorse. "I'll do anything to make it up to you."
I smiled faintly. "Please don’t do anything a normal apologize would do ."
Months had passed since I last set foot in the library, and the scent of aged paper and leather, a familiar comfort that once soothed my soul, now felt laced with a bittersweet pang. Yet, stepping back into the hushed haven felt like tumbling through a time warp. The scent of aged paper, the rhythmic tick of the grandfather clock, even the worn patches on the armchairs – everything whispered memories of Mattheo, both sweet and stinging.
the silence thrummed with echoes of hushed conversations and stolen glances. Memories of stolen moments with Mattheo – whispered secrets amongst the stacks, fingers brushing as we reached for the same book – played in a loop behind my closed eyelids.
A sigh escaped my lips as the heavy oak door shut with a soft thud behind me. The vastness of the library stretched before me, empty shelves yawning like forgotten dreams. No bustling librarians, no chattering students hunched over dusty tomes. Just me, adrift in a sea of silence, the weight of the past clinging to my every step.
But then I saw him.
Mattheo stood near the Charms section, a sly smirk twisting his lips. His eyes, usually filled with a cool amusement, held a challenge this time. A knot of tension formed in my stomach.
"You forgive him so easily," he drawled, his voice low enough to carry only between the towering bookshelves.
He gestured towards an empty space beside him, a clear invitation. My pulse quickened. Part of me wanted to whirl around and storm out, to deny him the satisfaction of any reaction. But another, more curious part, craved to know what game he was playing.
With a measured breath, I sauntered towards him, my chin held high. "Forgive who?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
He raised an eyebrow, the smirk deepening. "Come now, Y/N," he said, his voice a silky murmur. "Don't tell me you haven't had a heart-to-heart with Spinnet already."
"What do you really want, Riddle?" I demanded, my voice trembling with a mix of hurt and confusion.
Mattheo took a shaky breath, his hand reaching out hesitantly before retracting. "I can't do this anymore, Y/N," he confessed, his voice raw. "I thought if I gave you some space..."
"Space?" I scoffed, tears welling up again. "Space? You call watching me all summer, space? I know what you did to those boys, and then threatening everyone in this school on the first day to not talk or do anything to me space??" I yelled, tears streaming down my face.
The words tumbled out, fueled by a wellspring of hurt I hadn't even realized I was holding onto. "I don't understand, Mattheo! I don't really understand. I've dealt with difficult things before, truly awful things, but none of them hurt as much as this betrayal. Why? Why can't I get over it? Why does it feel like someone ripped open my soul and stomped on it a million times? Then it hit me. You did that, Mattheo. You."
My voice broke, replaced by a choked sob. "You showed me a love I never knew existed, a love I never dared to dream of , showered me with affection and tenderness. You touched parts of my soul I never knew were there. Every inch of me, every piece of me – my heart, my mind, my soul – had your name written all over it , Every fiber of my being, every beat of my heart, seemed to have your name etched upon it. And then, you snatched it all away.. They say it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, but that's a lie. Because feeling your love, then losing it, is the worst pain I've ever experienced.”
The air crackled between us, thick with unspoken emotions and the sting of my tears. Mattheo inched closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the turmoil within me. I could feel his breath whisper against my cheek, sending a shiver down my spine.
"Y/N," he pleaded, his voice husky with emotion ."I know you don't believe me," he confessed, his red- eyes searching mine .
“but this feeling... it terrifies me. I've never felt like this before. Never cared about anyone but myself and Enzo . But then you came along. The purest thing I've ever have , the closest I'll ever get to heaven."
His words hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the arrogant facade he usually presented.
"I miss you," he continued, his voice raw with longing. "I miss what we had. The way your smile could light up a room, the way your cheeks would flush the prettiest shade of pink ."
He paused, his hand hovering hesitantly near mine. "I can't do this anymore. This game... it's torture. Every stolen glance, every witty banter, it just makes the truth harder to bear. Tell me what you want me to do. Name it, anything. But please, just end this charade. It's killing me “
A tremor ran through him, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of genuine fear in his eyes.
He looked at me for a second, taking a shaky breath. Then, the words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered. "I love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm not afraid to say it anymore. I regret not approaching you properly, i regret taking that stupid dare ."
His gaze held mine, desperate for any sign of reciprocation. "You asked if everything between us was a lie," he continued, his voice low. "But listen to me now. You're the truest thing that's ever happened to me. I love you, Y/N. And I can't stand there watching you, knowing I can't hold you. I never wanted to hurt you, And I promise, I'll never let anyone hurt you again"
My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo in the quiet library. Every fiber of my being yearned to believe him, to reach out and melt into his embrace. But the betrayal was still fresh, a gaping wound that pulsed with pain.
"I can't trust you anymore, Mattheo," I choked out, the words a bitter truth. "Even if I want to, I can't. Every word you say feels like another lie. I hate you," I confessed, the words ripping from my throat. "I hate you so much for making me want to forgive you. I hate you because I love you so much."
"Don't cry," he pleaded, his voice thick with a desperate sincerity. "I'll do anything. Just say it, and I'll do it."
The promise hung in the air, tempting and dangerous. I reached up and covered his hand with mine, the warmth seeping into my chilled skin. Despite the storm raging inside me, a small part of me craved the comfort of his touch, the solace of forgiveness.
"Then let me go, Mattheo," I whispered, the words tasting like ashes in my mouth. "Let me go. Don't approach me. Don't try to fix anything. Just let me go."
The pain in his eyes mirrored the turmoil within me. "Is that what you truly want?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
I could only nod, a fresh wave of tears cascading down my face. Every part of me ached to forget the past, to bury my head in his chest and feel the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat. But the betrayal was a wall I couldn't climb over, not yet.
"Then I will do it ,love." He brushed away my tears one last time, his touch lingering for a heartbreaking moment before he took a step back. The pain in his eyes was a something i could never forget.
He gave me one last, lingering look before turning and leaving the library, the heavy oak door closing with a finality that echoed the slamming shut of my own heart. The air hung heavy with unspoken emotions, the weight of my decision pressing down on me.
My revenge, I realized with a bitter pang, tasted worse than Flobberworm milk and phonics tears on cupcakes. But in that moment, I didn't realize that in punishing him, I was condemning myself to an equally excruciating torture
Days bled into weeks, each one stretching out with the agonizing slowness of a Dementor's kiss. What I had envisioned as a sweet victory – Mattheo squirming under the weight of my indifference – felt more like a self-inflicted Cruciatus Curse.
The once-familiar halls of Hogwarts became a minefield of awkward silences and stolen glances. Every corner held the ghost of his laughter, every shadowed alcove whispered echoes of his touch. Avoiding him became a constant, exhausting dance.
In Herbology, Professor Sprout droned on about the magical properties of Bubotuber pus, but all I could focus on was the empty space beside me. It had become a glaring absence, a constant reminder of the warmth that used to be there.
Across the room, I could feel his gaze burning into me. But when I dared to steal a glance, his head would be bent diligently over his textbook, his jaw clenched tight. It was a practiced act of indifference, a mask that mirrored the one I wore.
Lunch in the Great Hall was an ordeal. I'd scan the long Slytherin table, searching for any sign of him. Relief would flood me when I wouldn't see him, only to be replaced by a hollow pang of disappointment.
One day, as I shuffled through the crowded hallway, I felt a presence looming behind me. My heart hammered a frantic tattoo against my ribs. I quickened my pace, clutching my books tighter, willing myself to disappear. But the presence remained, a silent taunt.
Finally, unable to bear the suspense any longer, I chanced a peek over my shoulder. My stomach lurched. It was him, his face a stony mask, his eyes fixed on a point far beyond me. He sidestepped me with practiced ease, not even a flicker of recognition in his gaze.
The charade was relentless. In Potions, Professor Snape's scathing remarks seemed muted compared to the deafening silence between Mattheo and me. We brewed our Draught of Peace with a silent intensity, each movement a calculated act of avoidance.
The whispers started subtly, like the rustle of leaves in a slight breeze. "Did you see them? Not a single word!" one student would murmur to another. Soon, the whispers morphed into open stares, the entire school buzzing with the unspoken tension between us.
It was as if by avoiding each other, we'd created a spectacle far more dramatic than any confrontation could have been. The unspoken longing, the raw emotions hanging heavy in the air – it was a story more captivating than any Quidditch match.
What hurt the most ? I couldn't escape the feeling that everyone else was living their lives, while mine was trapped in this agonizing purgatory of unspoken emotions and a love I couldn't embrace or deny.
The silence between us was deafening, a reminder of the bond we'd shattered. My carefully crafted revenge felt hollow, a Pyrrhic victory that left me as desolate as the empty space beside him. The ache in my chest had little to do with anger and everything to do with a longing I couldn't name.
Then came the worst part. It wasn't just the awkward silences or stolen glances at him interacting with others. It was the way the girls around me perked up, their smiles a bit too wide, their laughter a bit too forced. They saw the distance between Mattheo and me, the void where his presence used to be, as an open invitation.
Professor Sprout's well-meaning attempt to pair us up for a project backfired spectacularly.
Mattheo, his usual smirk replaced by a practiced indifference, meticulously tended to his Venomous Tentacula while I wrestled with a particularly stubborn Flobberworm. The silence between us was thicker than the sap dripping from the Bubotuber pus. We moved with a practiced efficiency, avoiding eye contact, our movements a painful ballet of unspoken hurt and when he was finally done with his part he left without even glancing at me .
Across the room, laughter erupted. A pretty brunette girl, Astoria Greengrass, leaned in conspiratorially towards Mattheo, a giggle escaping her lips. He threw his head back, a genuine smile lighting up his face, a sight that sent a spike of jealousy through me.
My Flobberworm wriggled free, sending a spray of dirt flying. Professor Sprout's raised eyebrow and stern lecture were a welcome distraction from the scene unfolding across the room. The warmth in Mattheo's laughter, the ease with which he interacted with Astoria, was a sharp contrast to the icy distance he maintained with me.
The worst part, however, wasn't the girls themselves. It was the way they looked at me – a mixture of pity and smug satisfaction. Their gazes seemed to say, "See? Now you see what you had and threw away."
Another day, another ordeal. During Charms, a boy from Ravenclaw, Michael Corner, sidled up to me, his voice a steady stream of nervous chatter. He droned on about the upcoming Quidditch match, his words blurring into background noise.
Across the room, I stole a glance at Matteo. He sat slumped in his chair, his gaze fixed on the textbook in front of him. But a flicker of movement caught my eye. His jaw clenched slightly, knuckles turning white as he gripped the book. He didn't turn towards me, didn't acknowledge Michael's presence. It was as if I, and the boy beside me, simply ceased to exist.
A pang of something akin to disappointment shot through me. Was this truly what he’s doing ? erasing me from his memory? The silence between us, once deafening, now felt suffocating. I craved a reaction, anything to break the monotony of our charade.
Days bled into weeks, each one a monotonous echo of the last. Lunch in the Great Hall was an exercise in self-torture. I sat with some girls from my class , their cheery chatter a stark contrast to the turmoil within me.
Across the room, Mattheo sat with a group of Slytherins, his usual arrogance back in place. He spoke in hushed tones, his eyes scanning the room. Did they land on me? I couldn't tell, wouldn't allow myself to hope.
Suddenly, Draco Malfoy sauntered over, a smirk playing on his lips. He leaned in, whispering something in Mattheo's ear, his gaze flickering towards me. A flicker of something – anger, maybe? – crossed Mattheo's face before he schooled his features back into indifference.
Draco's smirk widened, punctuated by a loud laugh. The sound grated on my nerves, a confirmation that he had successfully moved on, leaving me drowning in the wreckage of our broken connection.
The once vibrant halls of Hogwarts had become a constant reminder of what I'd lost. The whispers, the pointed looks, the morbid fascination with our unspoken war – it all felt suffocating. The silence between us, once deafening, now resonated with a profound emptiness.
In my quest for revenge, I had succeeded in destroying not just him, but a part of myself. And as I stared across the Great Hall, the bitter truth settled in – the only thing more unbearable than his betrayal was his indifference.
The ache in my core pulsed with every stolen glance at Matteo. A single, accidental lock of eyes during Charms was all it took to reignite the inferno I'd thought I'd extinguished. The familiar heat bloomed in my cheeks, spreading downwards, a stark reminder of the raw, physical connection we shared.
Driven by an insatiable hunger, I succumbed to temptation, seeking solace in the darkness of night. With trembling hands, I slipped my fingers inside my pants, yearning for the touch of his hands upon my skin. But no matter how fervently I imagined his touch, it was futile, a poor substitute for the real thing.
His absence loomed large in my mind, a constant reminder of the void he had left behind. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I grappled with the overwhelming sense of loss, longing for the warmth of his embrace.
In the silence of my room, I cried myself to sleep, the weight of my unfulfilled desires weighing heavily upon me. No matter how hard I tried to bury them, the flames of passion continued to burn, fueled by the memory of his touch.
The next day crawled by, each tick of the clock echoing the heavy weight in my chest. Just as I contemplated escaping to the familiar comfort of the Slytherin common room, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows of the deserted hallway – Enzo.
His usual carefree air was replaced by a somberness that mirrored my own. "Y/N," he started hesitantly, his voice uncharacteristically unsure.
"Enzo, hi," I greeted nervously. "Are you... are you alright?"
He paused, his gaze flickering with concern. "I need to talk to you," he finally said, his voice low.
"Sure," I whispered, a nervous smile tugging at my lips.
He gestured towards an empty classroom beside us. We entered, the silence suddenly thick and heavy.
"It's about Mattheo," he began, his voice dropping even lower.
My heart hammered against my ribs,
"What about him?" I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.
Enzo took a deep breath, his gaze flickering with an emotion I couldn't decipher. "He — He has a really dangerous disease Y/N," he blurted out, the words heavy in the quiet hallway.
Enzo's words hit me like a Stunning Spell. My breath caught in my throat, the air suddenly thick with a suffocating weight. Disease? Mattheo? It couldn't be true. The anger that had simmered within me for weeks flickered, threatened by a spark of something else – a flicker of fear, of a terrible, dawning realization.
"Disease?" I choked out, the word barely a whisper.
Enzo nodded. "Serious. He doesn't know how long..." He trailed off, his voice thick with emotion. "But he's getting worse every day. Refused to tell you himself, stubborn git."
Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring Enzo's concerned face. "He never said anything," I choked out, my voice thick with emotion. "He wouldn't even look at me."
Enzo sighed, a deep rumble that spoke of a burden shared. "He's stubborn, that one. Especially when it comes to protecting you “
"But how could he not tell me?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.
"He loves you, Y/N," Enzo said, his voice firm. "More than anything, I swear. I've never seen him care about anyone the way he cares about you. I knew what he did was unforgivable , but his feelings for you… they're real."
A sob escaped my lips, tears blurring my vision. The image of Mattheo, his usual arrogance replaced by vulnerability, echoed in my mind.
"you deserves to know," Enzo said, his gaze unwavering. "Even if you can't forgive him, even if you hate him… you deserve to know the truth."
Tears streamed down my face, a mixture of grief and confusion.
"He'll do anything for you, you know," Enzo continued. "Hiding this… it's killing him. More than the illness itself."
Another sob escaped my lips. The anger, the carefully constructed walls of indifference – it all seemed so petty now, dwarfed by the weight of his illness. All this time, I'd been punishing him, punishing myself, while he…
Panic clawed at my throat. "How bad is it? How long…?" My voice wouldn't form the question.
Enzo shook his head, a grim expression on his face. "I don't know all the details, Y/N. He wouldn't tell me much. But he's getting worse, and by the way there's no cure."
The weight of the revelation pressed down on me. The silent war we waged, the stolen glances filled with unspoken emotions – it all seemed so meaningless now. All I wanted to do was see him, to hold him, to tell him… what?
Looking at Enzo, tears streaming down my face, I whispered, " Where is he?"
Enzo hesitated, then pointed towards the forest . "He's usually there, you know where , trying to clear his head."
"Thank you, Enzo," I croaked, my voice thick with emotion. "For telling me."
Enzo nodded, a hint of a sad smile gracing his lips. "Just… don't let pride get in the way, alright? Talk to him. Figure things out he needs you now more than ever. ." He squeezed my shoulder before turning and leaving me alone with the weight of this revelation.
Enzo's words echoed in my head, each syllable a hammer blow against my chest. Disease. Limited time. The anger, the carefully constructed walls of resentment, all crumbled under the weight of this revelation. Tears blurred my visionI raced through the castle corridors, legs burning, a primal urge driving me forward.
I didn't care about the stares, the confused whispers that followed. I only cared about getting to him , My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, each beat punctuated by a sob that tore through me.
The familiar path to the Forbidden Forest became a blur. Thorns ripped at my robes, branches snagged at my hair, but I didn't feel them. All I felt was a desperate need to reach him, to hold him.
A sharp sting on my knee brought me back to the present. I looked down to see a crimson stain blooming on my robes, a tear in the fabric revealing a scraped knee. But the pain was a mere whisper compared to the agony twisting in my gut.
The memory of his secret place, fueled my desperate run. It was a sanctuary he'd revealed only to me, Now, it was my beacon, the only place I could imagine him seeking solace in his time of despair.
Bursting through the familiar curtain of trees, I skidded to a halt, chest heaving, tears streaming down my face. My vision swam, but I could just make out the clearing, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun.
Reaching the clearing, I pushed aside the concealing ivy with trembling hands. The familiar wooden door stood before me, mockingly still. I flung it open, ignoring the groan of rusted hinges.
Pushing the pain aside, I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the blood seeping through my torn robes. The hidden entrance, disguised by a tangle of ivy, materialized before my tear-filled eyes.
With trembling hands, I cleared the vines, pushing through the narrow opening. The familiar scent of earth and damp stone greeted me, a small comfort in the storm raging inside.
Inside the dimly lit chamber, my breath caught in my throat, with my ragged sobs as I stumbled towards the bed. Mattheo peacefully sleeping on , his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
"Mattheo!" I shrieked, the name a desperate plea that tore through the silence. "Mattheo, wake up!"
He stirred at the sound, his brow furrowing in confusion. His eyes fluttered open, blinking away the remnants of sleep. his eyes widening in shock before softening at the sight of my tear-streaked face,the raw panic radiating from my very being.
"Y/N?" he rasped, his voice weak. "What's wrong? What happened?"
Before he could finish his question, I was on him, collapsing onto the bed in a heap of sobs and frantic whispers
His arms wrapped around me. held me close, his voice a soothing murmur against my ear. " it's okay, love," he whispered, his voice thick with concern. "What happened? Are you hurt? Tell me what's wrong, baby did someone…" he trailed off, his voice hardening with a possessive anger."
The sound of those endearment words, so unexpected after weeks of cold silence, sent a fresh wave of tears cascading down my cheeks.
"Don't cry, love," he murmured, his voice thick with concern. "Tell me what's wrong. Did someone hurt you? Did someone say something?"
His gaze dropped to the injury, "Oh Merlin," he breathed, his voice laced with self-reproach. "How did you… why did you come here like this?"
My voice, when it finally came, was a choked sob. Words tumbled out in a rush, a jumbled mess of emotions. "Enzo… he told me… you're sick… I… I thought…"
Mattheo's brow furrowed further. He reached out, his touch tentative on my arm. "Slow down, love," he murmured. "What did Enzo tell you?"
I took a shaky breath, wiping at the tears blurring my vision. "That you… that you had a dangerous illness… that you didn't have long."
A bewildered frown creased his forehead. illness? What illness ? “
"Don't lie to me, Mattheo," I pleaded, tears welling up again. "He said you were… you were dying."
"Enzo that fucker ," he muttered, shaking his head . "He must have been trying to get us to talk." He let out a dry, humorless laugh, the sound sending a fresh wave of pain through me. "He always did have a dramatic flair."
My entire body tensed. Was he lying? My gaze darted across his face, searching for any sign of truth.
"But Enzo wouldn't lie about something like that," I protested, my voice shaky. "He was so worried. He said you loved me, that I deserved to know."
His arms tightened around me "Well, Enzo got one thing right then,"
"So there's no illness?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Mattheo cupped my face in his hand, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. "No illness, love. Just a heartbroken fool who did something incredibly stupid." His gaze softened, searching mine. "You believed him?"
Shame burned in my throat. "I… I was scared,"
Mattheo's expression softened. "Scared about me?" he asked gently, his thumb brushing against my cheek in a soothing gesture.
I nodded, unable to meet his gaze as tears threatened to spill over once more.
“you don't have to be scared anymore. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."A wave of relief washed over me as I melted into his embrace, feeling the weight of my fears slowly lift from my shoulders. In his arms
his playful smile fading, replaced by a sharp concern that etched lines on his face his gaze flicked down to my knee
"Oh Merlin," he muttered, kneeling down to examine the wound. A crimson stain was blossoming on my knee .
"It looks worse than it is, probably," I mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant. But the wince I couldn't quite suppress betrayed me.. He knelt beside me, his touch sending a familiar spark through my body despite the circumstances.
"You shouldn't have run like that," he said gently, his voice laced with a hint of disapproval. "Look at you, all bruised and bleeding."
My cheeks burned, not just from the sting of the wounds, but from the unexpected tenderness in his voice. "I… I just needed to see you," I mumbled, looking away.
A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Well, you certainly made an entrance," he said, a hint of amusement returning to his eyes. But his smile faltered as he focused on my wounds .
"Here, let me get you cleaned up," he said, his voice firm.
He rummaged through the surprisingly well-stocked medical kit hidden in the corner, pulling out vials of glistening potions and bandages. The air filled with the pungent scent of dittany as he carefully cleaned my wounds, his touch surprisingly gentle.
Each swipe of the cloth sent a jolt through me, a confusing mix of pain and a strange kind of pleasure. Shame battled with a newfound hope as I met his gaze. The anger and hurt that had clouded his eyes for weeks were gone, replaced by a warmth that sent a flutter to my stomach.
"There," he said finally, tying the last bandage with a practiced ease. "That should hold for now."
As he pulled back, our eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, the air crackled with unspoken words. The silence between us, once heavy with tension, thrummed with a new energy.
"I'm so sorry for barging in like that," I mumbled, looking away.
"Hey," he said, his voice firm but kind. " You scared the daylights out of me, but I'm glad you're here."
"Do__Do you still care about me?" I blurted out, the question tumbling out before I could stop it. Tears welled up again, threatening to spill over.
Mattheo's eyes widened for a moment, then a flicker of something warm crossed them.
"Like... are you kidding me?" he said, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "Of course I do."
My heart hammered in my chest. "But I thought..." I trailed off, unsure how to voice the tangled mess of emotions that had been churning inside me.
"You thought I moved on?" he finished, his voice gentle.
I nodded, ashamed of the doubt that had festered for so long.
"I was giving you space," he explained, "the space you said you needed. But believe me, it was killing me."
"Merlin's beard, Y/N. Every time some bloke even glanced your way, I felt like I might hex the lot of them."
My cheeks burned. As I laughed at what he said
his gaze lingering on my lips. "I swear I didn't tell anyone about what you told me that night," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "I had nothing to do with the play. ,I didn't know they were going to do that I only didn't want you to go because it was connected to the dare and I thought if we just stayed away, it would all blow over."
"I know," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Charlie told me."
his messy hair softened by the dim light, his jaw shadowed with a hint of stubble, but his gaze held that same familiar warmth that had always sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
He looked so good, so heartbreakingly handsome, a possessiveness rising in my chest. He was mine
I couldn't hold back any longer. With a soft whimper, I closed the gap between us, my lips meeting his in a kiss that was both desperate and tender.
His lips were warm and soft, molding perfectly to mine.The taste of him – a mixture of mint and something uniquely Mattheo – flooded my senses, sending a jolt through my body.
Mattheo responded instantly, pulling me closer until I was practically settling me on his lap , melting into him . His hands slid down my back.
He held me tightly, as if afraid I might disappear, and the urgency in his kiss mirrored my own. It was a hungry kiss, filled with a raw passion that had been simmering beneath the surface for too long.
We explored each other's mouths with a newfound intensity, the taste of him igniting a fire deep within me. Our tongues danced together, a silent conversation filled with unspoken promises and a desperate need for more.
He pulled back slightly, his breath ragged. His eyes, shimmering with desire, held me captive.My own hands tangled in his hair . "I missed you," he rasped, his voice thick with emotion.
The words echoed my own feelings. God, how I'd missed him.
He kissed me again the kiss deepened, a desperate plea for connection after weeks of longing. My hips instinctively swayed against him, seeking a friction that had been absent for too long. The ache in my core, a dull throb that had plagued me, seemed to lessen with each press of my body against his,It felt like a dam had broken, a release after a drought.
But then I felt it – a firmness pressing against my core, a sensation that sent a jolt through my system. It overwhelmed my senses, momentarily drowning the delicious haze of the kiss. As my body brushed against it again, a guttural moan escaped Mattheo's lips. Reality slammed back, and I tore myself away from the kiss, eyes wide with a sudden realization.
"I'm so sorry," I stammered, the words tumbling out in a jumbled mess. "I didn't realize…" my cheeks a fiery red. "Does it hurt you too?"
"Too?"He tilted his head, a playful smile on his face ."What do you mean, baby? What's hurting you?
"I-I just..." I stammered, my cheeks burning like embers. "I don't know... It's just..." Words failed me completely.
His playful smirk deepened the pit in my stomach. "Yeah?" he prompted, his confusion tinged with amusement.
"That would be…" My voice dropped to a barely audible murmur. "That ache, and it won't just go away, no matter what I try."
He chuckled, the sound warm and comforting. "Oh, my love. That sounds awful." He brushed a fallen strand of hair away from my face, his touch sending a fresh wave of heat through me.
"Tell me, love," he whispered, his voice husky with desire, "where does this ache come from?"
before I could confess, a new sensation stole the air from my lungs. His lips, warm and insistent, found my neck again
"Where was that ache coming from, love?" he repeated, his lips soft against my skin, eliciting a moan of pleasure.
"Tell me," he urged, cupping my breast while peppering kisses all over my neck. "I'm still waiting for you to answer me, my love," his voice dominant, commanding my attention.
"It was... down there," I admitted. "It won't go away, no matter what I try," I continued, feeling exposed.
His lips found a sensitive spot behind my ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. "And what have you tried to do to make it go away?" he murmured, his voice turning dark .
"I... I tried to do what you did to me before, but I couldn't," I whispered, tears welling in my eyes, their origin unclear. He kissed them away, his lips tender against my skin.
"You tried to touch yourself? Tried to recreate what I did to you? And who were you thinking about while doing it, darling?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.
"You... it was you. I also imagined it was you, but it didn't work," I confessed.
"You're going to be the death of me," he murmured, kissing away the last of my tears. Then he continued, his voice low and seductive, "We need to do something about that then , Would you let me kiss it better?"
Unable to tear my gaze from his, I simply nodded, my voice stolen by the intensity in his eyes.
"Words, love,I need to hear your voice "
"Yes, please," I whispered, the words barely escaping my lips.
The kiss that followed was possessive, a searing claim . When he finally pulled away, his eyes burned with a dark intensity.
"Good," he breathed, his voice thick with desire . "Because I'm going to worship every inch of that beautiful body. Every. Inch. Of. You."
With a tenderness that contrasted with the raw desire in his voice, he gently laid me down on the bed. The plush fabric felt cool against my flushed skin as anticipation coiled in the pit of my stomach.
His fingers brushed against my collarbone as he meticulously unfastened each button of my shirt. His gaze never left mine, the intensity in his eyes sending shivers down my spine.
"That Ravenclaw boy, Michael Corner, what was he telling you?"
His question jolted me back to reality. I blinked, momentarily confused, then recalled, "Oh, right, Michael. He was talking about the next Quidditch match. I didn't know you noticed."
A wry smile played on his lips. "Oh, believe me, I did," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Every. Single. Second. Especially when his eyes kept flickering back over here."
His gaze dropped pointedly to the space where my shirt now hung open, and a blush crept up my neck.
"Believe me," he whispered,"my eyes were on you the entire time."
Heat pulsed through me as his kisses trailed down my neck, each one a spark igniting a fire within. I squeezed my eyes shut, a strangled moan caught in my throat. Nervous flutters danced in my stomach, a foreign sensation that both scared and thrilled me.
A gasp ripped through me as Matteo's cool fingers dipped beneath my skirt. My skin, flushed from his heated kisses, sent a jolt of contrasting sensation against his touch. It was a delicious shock, leaving me breathless.
"Hey," he murmured, voice laced with concern as he immediately stopped, his brows furrowing. "Is this okay? Do you want me to…"
He began to retract his hand, but before he could fully pull away, I reached out, my fingers blindly grasping at his . "No," I mumbled, the word barely a whisper. My voice betrayed me, shaky and breathless. Why did this simple touch feel so earth-shattering?
"No," I repeated, a little firmer this time, gathering my courage. "I mean, yes. This is… I want that." The last few words tumbled out in a rush, so quiet I wasn't sure if he even heard them.
I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to meet his gaze. I could almost picture the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips
A blush crept up my neck as his voice rumbled in my ear, a promise laced with concern. "If you feel uncomfortable at any point, love, just say the word. I want this to be good for you." His touch lingered on my bare skin, a burning ember against my suddenly chilled flesh.
The sincerity in his voice calmed the knot of nerves twisting in my stomach. I knew he wouldn't push me further than I was ready. Taking a deep breath, I met his gaze, my own desire reflected back in his warm brown eyes.
"I trust you," I whispered, the words a shaky promise.
A slow smile spread across his face, lighting up his features like the sunrise.
The brush of his fingers against the fabric of my bra sent a jolt through me. He paused, his eyes searching mine once more, a silent question hanging in the air.
This time, my response was a small, barely-there nod. It was a hesitant surrender, an invitation whispered on a breath. A satisfied glint sparked in his eyes before he continued his exploration, his touch sending shivers dancing across my skin.
Matteo's fingers grazed the clasp of my bra. The touch was a spark that ignited a fire within me, a rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. Instinctively, my fingers tangled themselves in his hair . He dipped his head, his lips trailing a warm path down my neck before finding a sensitive spot on my chest. A soft moan escaped my lips as he teased the nipple
My back arched involuntarily, a silent plea for him to continue. I tugged on his hair, not wanting him to stop, not wanting this exquisite feeling to end.
"Does that feel good, love?" he murmured against my skin, his voice husky with desire.
"Yes," I breathed, the word barely a whisper lost in the symphony of sensations swirling around me. My eyelids fluttered shut, the world dissolving into a haze of touch and taste, the touch of his skin and the warmth of his breath. Everything else faded away .
Moving to my other nipple giving it the same attention .My fingers instinctively tangled themselves in his hair.
A wave of heat washed over me as Matteo's hand brushed against the hem of my skirt soft sigh escaped his lips as his gaze drifted to my soaked panties .
“I’ve wanted this for such a long time, you have no idea,” he murmured, sucking on the skin of my inner thighs as my hands fisted the bedsheets.
“Please,” I begged, feeling no embarrassment about how desperate I sounded. As soon as he began to suck on my clit, all my worries began to vanish. Profane words spilled from my mouth as Matteo took his sweet time with me.
"Merlin, oh, I—" It seemed as if I couldn’t control my mouth any longer; my instincts took over. I knew that I was ready; I wanted him, all of him.
“Relax, baby, I’ve got you,” his eyes were pitch black by now pupils were dilated, a dark reflection of the desire .
A loving smile playing on his lips as he slowly inserted a finger into me. It still felt strange to me, a sensation I hadn't quite grown accustomed to yet. I was tight around his fingers, but my moans urged him on. Adding another finger, he alternated between sucking, licking, then repeating, drawing me closer to my release,a mind-blowing orgasm that I’d never forget.
My stomach clenched, a tight knot forming as a foreign heat bloomed in my core. Blood roared in my ears, drowning out everything except his voice and the frantic pounding of my heart. My head arched back against the pillow, muscles involuntarily tightening around his fingers.
" good girl , Come for me, love,"
A guttural moan escaped my lips as pleasure surged through me, a wave cresting and crashing in a series of shivers. "Mattheo," I breathed, his name a desperate prayer repeated again and again.
"That’s fucking right, love ." he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Say my name,no one else says my name quite like you do. It's a sound I desperately missed."
His words fueled the fire within me, and I surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure, clinging to him as the wave crested and receded. Exhausted but exhilarated, I opened my eyes to find his gaze locked on mine.
A slow smile tugged at his lips as he brushed a kiss across my flushed cheek. The touch ignited a spark within me, and I reached out, my fingers curling around his hand. With a newfound boldness, I drew him closer, our lips meeting in a kiss that spoke volumes.
"I want you Mattheo all of you ," I whispered against his lips, with newfound confidence.
His gaze held mine for a beat, searching for any flicker of hesitation. He saw none, only a reflection of the desire burning brightly in his own eyes.
"Are you absolutely sure, love?" he asked.
"Absolutely sure just be gentle ," I breathed against his lips, the words leaving no room for doubt.
He undressed himself slowly, his eyes never leaving my form. I couldn't help but admire the contours of his body as he revealed each inch of his skin. My fingers tingled with anticipation, and I reached out to trace the lines of his sculpted six-pack, feeling the firmness beneath my touch. His muscles rippled under my fingertips.
My apprehension grew as I looked at his length, my mind swirling with doubts and desires. " will it hurt?" I asked, my voice betraying my fear and curiosity. I couldn't shake the nagging thought of how he would fit inside me.
"I won’t do anything to hurt you. I'll be gentle with you, okay?"he reassured me, his words soothing my nerves.
 “Is that gonna fit?” 
 
 “I’ll make it fit.” He kissed a trail down the valley between my breasts, his lips igniting a flame against my skin. Each touch sent a surge of heat through me, anticipation building with every passing second.
He ran the tip of his hardness through my wet folds agonizingly slowly, each touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through my body. I could feel myself throbbing with need as he coated himself with my slickness, the sensation almost overwhelming. Gasping for breath, I reached out for his free hand holding it , needing the connection to ground me amidst the whirlwind of sensation.
“Breathe for me, baby,” Matteo murmured, his voice laced with tenderness and desire. "Keep your eyes on me. Let me see those pretty eyes."
A sharp hiss escaped my lips as he slowly began to push into me, each inch stretching my muscles as they accommodated his girth. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, a combination of pleasure and slight discomfort mingling together. , his lips pressing tender kisses against my cheeks wiped away the tears .
As he started to roll his hips, a slow and steady rhythm, the initial discomfort gave way to a rush of pleasure that flooded my senses. Each movement sent waves of sensation coursing through me, building the intensity of our connection with every thrust.
It didn't take me long to get used to the new sensation; my cries turned into moans, loud moans, my nails clawed at his back as he picked up his speed. "You're doing so well my love '." He kept on praising me as I clenched around his length.
“Good girl," . His thumb continued to circle my pulsing clit, sending electric shocks of pleasure through me. Mattheo buried his head in my neck, inhaling my scent as he listened to the rhythm of our bodies moving together. "God, you feel so good, like a fucking dream. I'll never get enough of you," he whispered against my skin, his words sending shivers down my spine.
As I looked down, the sight of our bodies connected together made me moan even louder. I couldn't help but notice the drips of blood on his dick as he moved, a stark reminder of our primal connection.
"I love you, Mattheo. I'm sorry it took me so long to say it, but I do love you more than life itself," I breathed out between heavy moans, my confession hanging in the air like a promise. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pulled him closer, desperate for more of him.
"Fucking hell, love, are you trying to kill me?" he sucked on my neck, pushing me over the edge for the second time that evening. The feeling exploded in my belly, my moans urging him closer to his own release. Still, I continued to clench around him, my body writhing with pleasure as he rode me through the bliss. His cock twitched inside of me, warmth spreading through me as he released himself inside of me.
I was on birth control pills my mother had made me take them since I turned eighteen, but in that moment, nothing else mattered but the overwhelming sensation of love and desire coursing through my veins.
“ Holy shit,Never thought I could love someone this much. What are you doing to me ?“
"Not even Astoria Greengrass?" I teased, unable to resist bringing that up .
"Don’t you dare bring another woman’s name up while my dick is still inside you," he retorted, his tone playful yet possessive.
I chuckled, cupping his face to kiss him passionately. His response was equally fervent, but a moan escaped my lips as I felt him getting out off me .
Surveying the aftermath, I couldn't help but feel a mix of pleasure and soreness. "I think I've lost my ability to walk," I joked.
"yeah ?" he teased back, laying down beside me. His fingers gently traced patterns in my hair as he leaned in to kiss my forehead with tenderness.
"I will never, ever do anything to hurt you again," he vowed softly.
Smiling softly, I whispered, "I know," before meeting his lips in another kiss.
He broke the kiss with a chuckle" I owes Enzo big time, huh? Best brother of the year?"
I laughed, feeling the exhaustion starting to set in.
"still ,but he'll pay for frightening you like that. Now, how about I take care of you first ?" I nodded, too tired to speak.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅
BONUS SCENE.
We re-entered the castle, his hand never leaving mine. It wasn't a casual hold, but a tight clasp, his fingers weaving between mine like a declaration
Suddenly, Matteo stopped short, his eyes widening in surprise. Following his gaze, I spotted a familiar tall figure with kind eyes and a warm smile – Uncle Ben! My jaw dropped. What was he doing here?
“Look who it is! Isn't that my favorite niece?"
"Uncle Ben? What are you doing here?"
"Ah," he chuckled, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "Professor Flitwick requested a little assistance with a... well, let's just say a certain magical artifact has gotten a bit out of sorts. Seems my expertise is needed to tame the beast, Thought I'd surprise you , and pop in to see how things are going at Hogwarts"
My jaw nearly hit the floor,how things are going at Hogwarts ? Well uncle…
“ this young man was keeping my company , Enzo, wasn't it?", his voice laced with amusement as he gestured towards Enzo.
"The one and only," Enzo confirmed with a wide grin, throwing in another wink for good measure.
My stomach lurched as Uncle Ben's gaze darted down to our hands, still subtly intertwined. The air crackled with sudden tension , his eyes darted from me to Mattheo, lingering a beat too long on the hand that still rested possessively on mine.
"Riddle Jr., isn't he?" he boomed, his jovial demeanor replaced with a mixture of surprise and something akin to panic.
My mind raced, desperately searching for an explanation. "Uncle Ben, it's —" I began, only to be cut off by his frantic question.
" you're not pregnant, right?" he blurted, his voice dropping to a panicked whisper.
My jaw dropped. Enzo choked on a laugh, shooting a helpless glance towards Mattheo, who seemed to be suppressing a smirk.
“you're holding hands! "
Enzo clapped Uncle Ben on the shoulder, his voice booming with forced cheer. "Come on, Ben! Let's not jump to conclusions. They're just kids, figuring things out."
My uncle's expression remained skeptical. He shifted his gaze to Matteo, a guarded look replacing the initial shock. " Riddle Jr. here," he began, his voice tight. "What exactly are your intentions towards y/n ?"
Matteo met Uncle Ben's gaze head-on, his posture unwavering. "Sir," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I deeply regret the way things ended between y/n and me. I know I hurt her, and for that, I'll never forgive myself. However, I care for her a great deal, and I would never do anything to intentionally cause her pain again." His eyes flickered to me briefly, a flicker of something warm passing between us. "All I want is a chance to prove myself worthy of her trust."
"Uncle Ben, I trust Mattheo. We'll take things slow, and I promise to be careful."
"Wow, you two look positively radiant. Blindingly so, actually. Sunglasses anyone?”enzo said wrapping his hands around my uncle shoulders.
Our synchronized eye rolls at his comment were enough to power the entire castle for a week. He held his hands up defensively, a playful grin plastered across his face while murmuring, "I'm still your brother, don't kill me," to Mattheo.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅
Tag list :
@avee-wavee @lovelyygirl8 @lovelyypythoness @timmychalametsstuff
641 notes · View notes