#this is just a rare pair showcase

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ cloud nine. ✦ 」

Mattheo riddle x reader [part2]

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:fluff,smut, angst

Words: 11.2k

The whispers followed me like a shroud, a constant murmur that swirled around the edges of my existence. "The jinx girl ," they hissed, punctuated by snickers and pointed fingers. Bad luck, they believed, clung to me like a second skin, a misfortune I carried wherever I went.

Hogwarts, a place that promised magic and wonder, had become a labyrinth of avoidance. Empty seats flanked me in Potions, desks strategically moved away in Charms, and hushed conversations abruptly stopped when I entered the room. I was a pariah, a freak, the girl who supposedly brought misfortune upon anyone who dared come close.

Every dropped potion, every sprained ankle, every lost Quidditch match - all blamed on me, Y/N Y/L/N, the harbinger of bad luck. Hogwarts, once a dream, had become a prison. Even the ghosts seemed to cower at my presence.

Professor Flitwick, a whirlwind of energy and charm despite his diminutive stature, announced a project for our Charms class.

"Partnering up for a Conjuring Extravaganza!" he squeaked, his voice a high-pitched melody. "Showcase your enchanting skills with a partner of your choosing!"

The room erupted in excited chatter, students scrambling to find their partners. I, however, remained rooted to the spot, a familiar ache twisting in my gut. Who would want to pair up with the cursed child? As if sensing my despair, Professor Flitwick's bright blue eyes twinkled in my direction.

"Don't worry, Miss Y/L/N," he chirped, "there's always a perfect match for everyone!"

His words offered little comfort. The pairings continued, each giggling duo a stark reminder of my isolation. Just when I resigned myself to another solo project, a voice cut through the din.

"I'll pair with Y/L/N ."

The classroom fell silent. Heads swiveled in unison, disbelief etched on their faces. It was Mattheo Riddle, the Slytherin prince with a reputation as sharp as his intellect .

Professor Flitwick, however, beamed like a firework had gone off in his tiny fist. "Excellent choice, Mr. Riddle!"

My jaw dropped. Mattheo Riddle? Partnering with me ? the jinxing girl ? It was as unexpected as a dragon hatching a pixie. A ripple of surprised murmurs coursed through the class. Did he just volunteer? Was this a cruel joke?

stole a glance at Mattheo, half expecting a smirk or a sly wink that would shatter the illusion of kindness.

But instead, he met my gaze with a genuine, albeit hesitant, smile. It was a rare sight on his usually stoic face, a flicker of warmth that sent a jolt through me. He sauntered over, his confident stride somehow softened as he approached me.

"Fancy working together, (Y/N)?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. It was the first time he'd ever addressed me directly, to talk to , and the informality sent a wave of heat rushing to my cheeks.

"I... I uh, sure," I stammered, still struggling to process the situation.

Professor Flitwick launched into the specifics of the project, outlining the different magical creatures we could try conjuring. Mattheo, however, seemed more interested in me. He leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper.

"So," he began, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "what kind of magic are you most comfortable with love ?"he said, pulling up a chair next to me.

My heart skipped a beat. No one had ever used that term – "love" – with me before. It was a small word, but in that moment, it felt like a lifeline thrown across the chasm of isolation.

A hesitant smile tugged at my lips. "I, uh, I'm actually quite good with summoning charms," I confessed, surprised by my own boldness.

His smile widened. "Excellent," he said, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. "I'm more of a transfiguration specialist. We could combine our strengths."

Combine our strengths? The thought of working alongside Mattheo, of learning from him and maybe even teaching him a thing or two myself, sent a thrill through me.

A comfortable silence settled between us as we delved into the project details. Professor Flitwick's lecture faded into background noise . Mattheo surprised me with his easygoing nature, his sharp intellect tempered with a dry wit that made me laugh, a sound that felt foreign escaping my lips.

Finally, Professor Flitwick called out the end of class. "Alright, class! Dismissed! Remember, be creative, be precise, and most importantly, have fun!"

My heart still hammered in my chest, a mixture of trepidation and a strange, exhilarating thrill. Mattheo gathered his books, and as he turned to leave, he caught my eye “ see you around Y/L/N “

The crisp autumn air sent a shiver down my spine as I settled onto the worn wooden bench in the school gardens. pulled out the book I burrowed from the library earlier , determined to bury myself in its intricacies and forget the entire debacle.

The rhythmic crunch of gravel on the path drew my attention. I glanced up, bracing myself for another encounter with Pansy and her posse, only to find Mattheo approaching. His expression was unreadable, a mix of curiosity and something I couldn't quite decipher.

He stopped a few steps away, a silent question hanging in the air. Surprised, I stammered, "M-Mattheo? What are you doing here?"

A hint of a smile played at the corners of his lips. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, his voice softer than I was accustomed to hearing from him.

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Was this real? "I, uh, sure," I managed, gesturing to the empty space beside me.

He sat down, our shoulders brushing slightly. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken words. Stealing a glance at him, I noticed his gaze fixed on the book in my lap. "Studying for the Charms exam?"

I shook my head. "Actually, this is more of a personal read. It's about obscure magical creatures."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Oh? Intriguing. Anything interesting?"

Hesitantly, I explained the book's exploration of Fae lore, their connection to emotions and the delicate balance they maintained with the human world.

To my surprise, Mattheo listened intently, occasionally asking insightful questions that sparked further discussion. We delved into the complexities of Fae magic, debated the ethics of human interaction with these mythical beings.

A playful glint flickered in his dark eyes, and a hint of a smile danced on his lips as he listened to my passionate explanation of Fae lore.

"Why – why are you smiling like that?" I asked hesitantly

"You just look so passionate about it," he explained, a genuine smile gracing his features.

"Actually, it’s totally my uncle fault he was the one who got me into it," I confessed, a fond smile playing on my lips. "He used to read me Fae tales before bed when I was young. Now here I am, analyzing their magical properties."

"Are you close with your uncle?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"Yeah, very close," I replied, then hesitated, a shadow crossing my face.

He picked up on the shift in my mood. "Everything okay?"

Taking a deep breath, I blurted out the question that had been gnawing at me since the library. "Why are you doing this, Mattheo? Is this a dare or something?"

He frowned, genuine confusion etched on his face. "Why would you say that?"

"You know," I rambled, gesturing at the empty garden around us. "Aren't you afraid?"

"Afraid of what?" He tilted his head, his dark eyes holding a hint of amusement.

My breath caught in my throat as he reached out, a playful glint in his eyes. He brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, sending shivers down my spine. "Me?" I whispered, barely a breath escaping my lips.

He smirked, amusement flickering across his face. "You look pretty cute to even scare a fly, love. Why should I be afraid of you?"

His words, laced with a hint of flirtation, left me speechless. His touch, light as a feather, lingered on my cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through me.

"You don't understand," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "Look at the garden, no one is here because I'm here. They believe... they believe —"

He cut me off before I could finish my frantic explanation. "But I'm here, aren't I, love?" he said, his voice a husky murmur. My heart pounded like a drum solo, the world around us seeming to fade away.

"You shouldn't be," I managed, my voice small and breathless. "I don't understand why."

"I'm not playing games with you, I promise," he replied, his voice firm. I hesitantly nodded, closing my eyes as the weight of his words settled upon me.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, a heavy sigh escaping my lips.

"Don't be," he said softly. "I understand. And you know what? I don't care what they say. And to be honest I don't even care if it was true..."

smiling , I looked up , meeting his gaze."So you're the first "

He leaned back, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "Let's just say," he began, his voice low and intriguing, "I know you weren't the reason Ronald broke his leg before the last Quidditch match."

A surprised laugh escaped my lips."And," he continued, his smile widening, "I also know that the explosion in Potions last year was entirely Harold's fault, not yours."

I burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the quiet garden. The weight of the whispers seemed to lift with each peal, replaced by a lightness I hadn't felt in years

"You were just there, like everybody else," he said, his voice tinged with amusement. "So why would you take the blame for that?"

He leaned forward, his face so close now that my laughter subsided, replaced by a nervous flutter in my chest. "You know what they say about what happened in first year," I began, voice barely above a whisper.

"It stays with you till your last," he finished the saying, his dark eyes holding mine. A grateful smile tugged at my lips.

"So when Charlie from down the street brought the rumors from our neighborhood to school, and then spread that story about me jinxing Seamus during his first Quidditch practice.. and let's just say Neville's unfortunate Gillyweed incident didn't help my case too so a that everybody seemed to believe it ," I explained, finally voicing the truth I hadn't thought anyone would ever be interested in hearing.

"That's not fair," Mattheo said, his voice firm.

"Yeah," I sighed, "but as my Nana always says, some children are born with tragedies in their hands." A bittersweet smile crossed my lips. "And by some children, she means me."

"She sounds like a cruel woman," he muttered.

I laughed, a touch brittle. "If you think my Nana is cruel, you should've met my mother then."

The words tumbled out before I could stop them, a confession I hadn't meant to share. My cheeks burned with a sudden, hot shame. Mattheo, however, didn't seem repulsed. In fact, his expression softened further.

My voice trailed off, the weight of the past suddenly overwhelming. Sharing a secret like that felt like opening a wound I'd painstakingly hidden for years. The air hung heavy with unspoken words, the setting sun casting long shadows across the quiet garden.

"I-I think I should get going," I stammered, pushing myself out of the chair, my resolve shaky at best.

A cool hand gripped my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. My breath hitched as I turned to face him , his gaze a storm of emotions swirling within its depths "Don't run away yet."

My cheeks burned even hotter, but I couldn't seem to tear my gaze away from his. "I'm not running," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't release my wrist. Instead, his grip softened, his thumb gently stroking a soothing circle against my skin. The simple touch sent a shiver down my spine, a stark contrast to the cold isolation I'd grown accustomed to.

"Then can I interest you in some Butterbeer tomorrow evening?" he asked, his voice laced with a playful charm. "Three Broomsticks, perhaps? We could continue our discussion about Fae magic, or maybe you could tell me more about your Nana and your… interesting family history."

A surprised laugh escaped my lips. The idea of spending another evening with Mattheo, outside the confines of a school project, sent a thrill through me.

A smile, genuine and unrestrained, bloomed on my face. "I'd like that," I replied, my voice a whisper against the backdrop of the settling evening.

Sleep that night was a distant dream. The events in the garden replayed in my mind on an endless loop. Mattheo's hand in mine, the warmth of his touch lingering like a phantom sensation, his unexpected concern for my story – it all sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

The morning sun filtering through my dormitory window found me wide awake, staring at the ceiling with a tangled mess of hair and a giddy smile plastered on my face.

But then came the most agonizing decision of the day – what to wear? My trunk overflowed with the usual witchy robes, all shades of black and grey. None seemed appropriate for a… date? Was it a date? My cheeks burned at the thought.

Finally, I settled on a compromise. A dark green skirt that swirled around my knees, a crisp black blouse , and my trusty black boots. It wasn't extravagant, but it felt… me.

The walk to the Three Broomsticks was a mess a disaster as I was trying to figure out the right direction . As I pushed open the creaky oak door,I tried to breathe and calm my self down, My eyes scanned the room, searching for Mattheo amidst the bustling patrons.

And then I saw him, tucked away in a corner booth, a solitary figure amidst the chatter and laughter. Relief washed over me, followed by a jolt of something warmer as our eyes met. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he gestured for me to join him.

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I walked towards him, a self-conscious fluttering in my stomach. Reaching the table, I slid into the booth opposite him.

his gaze lingering a beat longer than necessary on my face. "you..," he finally said, a low whistle escaping his lips. "You look..." he trailed off, searching for the right word.

My cheeks flushed a rosy hue . "I look?"

A slow smile spread across his face. "Radiant," he finished, his voice a husky murmur.

My breath hitched. No one had ever used that word to describe me before. "Radiant?" I repeated, a nervous laugh escaping my lips.

"Absolutely," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Though, I have to say, for a second I thought you weren’t coming “

“ oh I’m so sorry I was just trying to find the way I, uh, I've never actually been to the Three Broomsticks before," I admitted, hoping to deflect from his unexpected compliment.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Never? But it's practically a Hogwarts tradition!"

. "I guess I've been more focused on the library and…avoiding crowds."

A flicker of understanding crossed his face. "Well, consider this your official initiation," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Prepare to be overwhelmed by sticky tables, questionable singing."

The waitress returned with our drinks, placing them carefully on the table.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, momentarily shattering our peaceful bubble. A boisterous group of students, their laughter echoing through the room, flooded in. My stomach lurched as I recognized them – Charlie Spinnet , flanked by his usual entourage of Crabbe and Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson, her face twisted in a sneer.

Unlike the usual sneer of Pansy Parkinson, Charlie's expression was a confusing mix of anger and… was that a hint of disappointment ? He locked eyes with me, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of something more complex in his gaze before it hardened back into a scowl.

Before I could decipher the meaning of it all, Pansy spotted us. Her voice, dripping with her usual malice, sliced through the warm bubble we'd created. "Look who is there," she drawled, directing a flirtatious smile towards Mattheo. "Hello there, Riddle."

Mattheo responded with his trademark icy drawl, "Parkinson. Always a pleasure."

She gave a curt nod before returning to her group. Charlie, however, didn't follow. His gaze remained fixed on me, an unsettling intensity in his eyes. I met his stare, a knot of unease forming in my gut.

"He's jealous," Mattheo said casually, leaning back in his seat. My jaw dropped.

"Jealous? Of what?" I stammered, completely bewildered.

"He likes you ," he replied with a knowing smirk.

A bewildered laugh escaped my lips. "He likes me ? Mattheo, the boy ruined my life" I interjected, my voice laced with a sharp edge. In truth, life hadn't been a cakewalk before Hogwarts either.

Just then, a loud shattering sound erupted from our table, sending shivers down my spine. My cup of butterbeer, which Charlie had probably targeted with a stray jinx spell , lay in pieces on the floor. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the pub as everyone turned to stare

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to control the spike of panic rising in my chest. This was exactly what I'd feared. when I opened my eyes again, my gaze met Mattheo's.

Unlike me, he wasn't angry. Instead, a mischievous glint sparkled in his dark eyes. he was smirking.

"So, you said this is your first time at the Three Broomsticks, love?" he asked, a playful smile on his lips as he stood up. I felt a pit forming in my stomach, unsure of where this was headed.

"Yeah," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Then let's make it unforgettable," he declared, his smile widening. He turned towards Charlie's table, his gaze locking onto Charlie's. Pansy, who had been watching the exchange with a mixture of amusement and apprehension, suddenly looked terrified.

Mattheo strolled over to their table, a confident swagger in his step. Reaching down, he casually lifted Charlie's untouched butterbeer He held it out to me with a charming smile. "Here, love," he said, not sparing Charlie a glance.

Charlie watched the exchange, his jaw clenched. "Is there anything you want to say, Spinnet?" Mattheo asked, his voice deceptively calm. Charlie just shook his head.

"Do you like toads?" Mattheo asked again a question so out of place it left us all speechless.

"S-seems like I do," Charlie stammered, his voice barely a squeak.

"Good," Mattheo said simply.

Then, in a blink, it happened. A blinding flash of light erupted from Mattheo's outstretched wand, enveloping Charlie. Before anyone could react, the speechless Charlie had vanished, replaced by a , green toad hopping comically on the table.

My scream was lost in the cacophony of shouts and gasps. Pansy let out a bloodcurdling shriek, scrambling back in her chair. Crabbe, for once, looked utterly bewildered.

Mattheo remained calm amidst the chaos, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Ignoring the stunned patrons, he reached for his pocket and placed a couple of pills on our table.

"I would take him back to the castle if I were you," he said to Pansy with a chilling smile. "Unless you prefer the company of amphibians."

Pansy was speechless, her face pale with a mixture of fear and fury. All she could manage was a strangled, "Merlin's Beard!"

Turning back to me, Mattheo offered his hand with his usual nonchalant charm. "Shall we go, love?" he asked, his voice a gentle contrast to the chaos he'd just unleashed.

We walked in comfortable silence for a while, following the familiar path towards the Black Lake. Finally, we reached the water's edge, the gentle lapping of waves against the shore providing a soothing counterpoint to the earlier frenzy. Mattheo gestured towards a large, flat rock nestled under a willow tree. "Mind joining me?" he asked, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

I nodded, still processing the events of the evening. Charlie's transformation, Pansy's terror, it was all a bit surreal. Sitting down on the rock, I pulled my knees to my chest, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.

"So," Mattheo began, a playful lilt to his voice, "first date, and I turn your potential bully into a toad. Not exactly the charming introduction I was hoping for."

I glanced at him, surprised. "Date?" I stammered, a blush creeping up my cheeks.

His smile softened. "Well," he began, " we did ditch the project discussion for butterbeer and…, then turning someone into a toad… definitely not your typical Tuesday."

I couldn't help but laugh, My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. "I… I never thought…" I stammered, completely flustered.

He reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His touch sent shivers down my spine. "Neither did I," he confessed, his voice surprisingly soft.

"Thank you," I said, taking a deep breath, " it's the first time anyone has ever defended me like that. Not since my Uncle."

Mattheo's smile softened. "Well," he said, his voice gentle, "consider me your knight in slightly-unconventional-Slytherin-armor then."

I laughed a blush crept up my cheek

Silence descended between us, broken only by the gentle chirping of crickets and the lapping of the lake.

"You mentioned your Uncle," Mattheo said, his voice curious. "Tell me about him."

"He's a bit of a character," I began, a smile playing on my lips. "He travels the world, studying ancient magic. He's probably in some remote location right now, chasing myths and legends he’s so brave ."

"Sounds fascinating," Mattheo commented, his voice laced with genuine interest. "But you're not close with anyone else in your family?"

The question hung in the air, and I hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to reveal. But something about the sincerity in his eyes, made me want to share a part of myself I rarely opened up about.

"Well, I'm not exactly their favorite," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "You see, my arrival wasn't exactly... welcomed."

Mattheo's brow furrowed in concern. "What do you mean?" he asked gently.

Taking a deep breath, I plunged into the murky waters of my past. "My mother ,she found out she was pregnant with me. At the same time, she learned about my late brother's… illness. He died tragically, just two days before I was born."

"She… she blamed me," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. "She believed I somehow took his place, that I was the reason he was gone."

He squeezed my hand gently, as if offering silent comfort.

"And your father?" he asked, his voice low and controlled.

"My father," I said, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "He said I stole his son's place. He never showed me any affection, always seeing a shadow of my brother instead of me."

My throat tightened, and I struggled to continue.

"But then there’s nana … well, she is a healer," I began, taking a shaky breath"She believed in a strange kind of balance. She used to say, 'A soul for a soul.'" A shiver ran down my spine as I recalled the chilling words. "'Sometimes,' she'd say, 'life takes one thing and gives another’. She just wished it had been my brother who lived."

"Y/N," he said, his voice low and serious. "That's a terrible thing to say to a child. None of that is your fault. You didn't ask to be born, and you certainly didn't cause your brother's illness."

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. The weight of their rejection, the constant reminder that I was somehow unwanted, had always been a heavy burden to carry.

Then, with a tenderness that took my breath away, he brushed his thumb across my cheek, wiping away a stray tear. The simple gesture, so full of empathy and understanding, felt like a dam breaking inside me. The tears that I'd been holding back spilled over, flowing freely down my cheeks.

Mattheo didn't flinch. He didn't pull away. He simply sat there, his hand cupping my face, his gaze holding mine with an intensity that both scared and excited me.

In a voice barely above a whisper, he said, "They don't deserve you , Not your mother, not your father, not sure your weird grandmother . They are blind to the incredible person you are."

His words, sincere and heartfelt, washed over me like a soothing balm.

"You are strong," he continued, his voice husky with emotion. "You are brave. You are kind. You carry the weight of their cruelty, yet you remain kind. That is a strength they will never possess."

His thumb continued to brush away my tears, his touch sending shivers down my spine.

As he spoke, the space between our faces seemed to shrink. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my lips, his gaze holding mine captive. The air crackled with a tension that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Then, before I could even think to stop him, Mattheo leaned in closer. The world around us seemed to fade away, leaving only the warmth of his hand on my face and the anticipation building within me.

His lips met mine in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a fleeting touch, barely a whisper, yet it sent a jolt of electricity through me.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. A nervous smile tugged at the corner of his lips.," is this your first kiss? “ he murmured, his voice husky.

A slow nod confirmed his suspicion , he leaned in again, this time deepening the kiss. This kiss was different – moving with a rhythmic dance that spoke volumes of unspoken emotions.

When we finally broke apart, breathless and slightly dazed, a blush crept up my cheeks. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo echoing in the quiet night.The taste of his lips lingered on mine, a sweet and intoxicating sensation that left me craving more.

"So," he said, his voice slightly breathless. "Forget everything I said about first impressions being unforgettable. Maybe this is a better way to start things off."

The next weeks unfolded like a whirlwind. Mattheo became a constant presence in my life, his shadow seemingly falling across mine with an uncanny frequency. Whether it was bumping into him "accidentally" on my way to Herbology, finding him "coincidentally" seated across from me in the library buried in the same obscure text on Fae magic, or him "miraculously" appearing just as I was leaving the Great Hall, it was clear he was making a concerted effort to be around me.

His tactics, though slightly obvious, were nonetheless charming. He started leaving small gifts on my desk – a fascinating book on Veela lore, a single perfect white rose

No one had ever gone out of their way to make me feel special before. Mattheo was doing just that, chip by chip, breaking down the walls I'd built around myself.

His "accidental" helpfulness extended to academics as well. He started leaving me beautifully illustrated books on ancient magic, conveniently "forgotten" on my desk. During Potions, he'd mysteriously materialize behind me just as I was about to accidentally add Flobberworm mucus to my Amortentia potion (a near disaster that could have had…interesting consequences).

One afternoon, while struggling with a particularly complex Transfiguration spell, Mattheo walked in on my frustration. He didn't laugh or poke fun,Instead, he sat down beside me, his patience as impressive as his knowledge. He explained the spell with a clarity I hadn't experienced before, his hand brushing against mine as he pointed something out on my parchment.

By the end of the week, I'd not only mastered the spell but found myself drawn to Mattheo in a way I hadn't before.

Mattheo's efforts extended beyond "accidents." He started introducing me to his friends. Theo and blaise ,Then there was Enzo, Mattheo's half-brother. With his playful demeanor and infectious laugh, Enzo made me feel welcome within their circle. I found myself enjoying their company, their camaraderie a stark contrast to the loneliness I had grown accustomed to.

One evening, while studying in the common room, , Enzo, sauntered over , He slid into the seat next to me, ignoring Mattheo's glare.

"Hey there, love," Enzo said, his voice dripping with a flirtatiousness that made me feel uncomfortable. "Studying hard?"

Before I could respond, Mattheo spoke up. "Enzo, perhaps you haven't noticed, but Y/N is busy."

Enzo simply chuckled. "Relax, brother. Just trying to be friendly." He leaned in closer to me

Enzo whispered, "He can be quite possessive, don’t you agree?" I couldn’t help but laugh, which was Mattheo’s last straw.

"Back off, Enzo," the words laced with barely contained anger , Enzo smiled and with a shrug and a playful wink at me, he sauntered away.

The most surprising consequence, however, was the complete absence of whispers. The rumors that had plagued me since childhood seemed to vanish overnight. Not a single snide remark, not a single pointed finger. The silence was deafening, and yet, strangely comforting.

Was it fear of Mattheo, or something more? Either way, I didn't question my newfound peace.

The stolen moments with Mattheo became a cherished secret language.

One particularly rainy evening, after a long and tedious double Potions lesson, Mattheo found me huddled in the deserted library, desperately trying (and failing) to decipher a particularly cryptic passage in a dusty old tome.

"Having trouble with the love language of Goblins, love?" he drawled, his voice a welcome sound in the quiet of the library.

I looked up, startled, my cheeks flushing at the sight of him. "Mattheo, you scared me!"

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "Just offering my expertise in the finer points of ancient languages," he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

He pulled up a chair next to me, the scent of his cologne filling my senses. As he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as he attempted to translate the passage, a spark ignited between us.

Emboldened by the privacy of the deserted library and the frustration of the Gobbledegook text, I turned to face him, my lips brushing against his ear as I pointed to a particularly confusing line.

Suddenly, the air crackled with unspoken desire. Mattheo's hand cupped my cheek, his thumb gently tracing the line of my jaw. His gaze held mine, a storm brewing in its depths.

"There's another way to learn this language," he murmured, his voice husky with suppressed longing.

Before I could respond, he closed the gap between us. The kiss was different this time. It was slow, searing, filled with a raw emotion that sent shivers down my spine. It was a kiss that spoke not just of affection, but of a growing possessiveness, a silent claim on my heart.

We pulled away breathlessly, foreheads resting together. The quiet of the library thrummed with the intensity of the unspoken words hanging in the air.

"Maybe Gobbledegook isn't so bad after all," I finally whispered, a shy smile playing on my lips.

Mattheo chuckled, a deep sound that resonated within me. "Perhaps not," he agreed, his eyes lingering on mine for a beat longer than necessary.

One blustery afternoon, while seeking refuge from a sudden downpour in a hidden alcove near the greenhouses, we found ourselves alone. The air crackled with unspoken tension as we stood shoulder-to-shoulder, the rain drumming a steady rhythm on the stone walls.

He cleared his throat, his gaze flickering from my face to the storm raging outside. "This weather is something else, isn't it?" he said, his voice barely a whisper above the wind.

"Unpredictable, like magic itself," I replied, my own voice barely a murmur.

Suddenly, he turned to face me, his eyes a storm brewing within them. Before I could react, he cupped my face in his hands, his touch sending shivers down my spine. The space between us evaporated as he leaned in, his breath warm against my cheek.

"You're unpredictable too, Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with something raw and primal. "In the best way possible."

And then, he kissed me. It was a kiss unlike any I'd ever experienced. It was fierce and passionate, filled with a yearning that mirrored my own.

I was hunched over a particularly dense text on Herbology, wrestling with the intricacies of magical plant growth, when a shadow fell across the page.

Looking up, I met Mattheo's gaze, a teasing glint in his dark eyes. "Lost in the world of Venomous Tentacula again, love?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine.

I swatted playfully at his hand, a smile tugging at my lips. "These Bulbadox Bulbs are more stubborn than they look," I grumbled.

He chuckled, leaning closer. "Maybe they just need the right touch," he murmured, his breath warm on my ear.

Before I could react, he reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against the offending passage. A jolt of electricity shot through me, my heart skipping a beat. He lingered for a moment too long, his touch sending goosebumps erupting across my skin.

"See?" he said, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Sometimes understanding comes from a different kind of connection."

His words were a playful jab, but the intensity of his gaze held a deeper meaning. I felt my cheeks flush, a secret smile spreading across my face.

"Maybe," I replied, unable to tear my gaze from his.

The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken emotions. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, Mattheo leaned in further. His lips brushed against the sensitive skin of my neck, sending a wave of warmth cascading through me.

It was a soft, lingering exploration. He trailed a finger down my neck, sending shivers dancing across my exposed skin. My breath hitched in my throat, and I leaned back into his touch, a helpless moan escaping my lips.

He chuckled against my skin, a low, throaty sound that sent a delicious tremor through me. "You should see the way you blush, Y/N," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

My cheeks burned even hotter. This wasn't the stolen kiss under the moonlight, this was something more intimate, more raw. It was a secret shared between us, a confirmation of the growing connection that thrummed beneath the surface.

Suddenly, the library door slammed open, shattering the intimate moment. Madam Pince, the stern librarian, swept in, her beady eyes scanning the room. Mattheo and I both straightened up, a sheepish grin on his face.

"No hanky-panky in the Restricted Section, young man," Madam Pince barked, her voice laced with suspicion.

Mattheo, ever the charmer, flashed her a boyish grin. "Just helping a friend with her research, Madam Pince," he said, his voice dripping with mock innocence.

Madam Pince narrowed her eyes at us for a moment longer before muttering something about "frivolous students" and disappearing behind a towering bookshelf.

As soon as she was gone, Mattheo let out a low whistle, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Looks like we've been caught," he said, a hint of regret in his voice.

I couldn't help but laugh, the tension broken. "Maybe we should stick to the Herbology section next time," I teased, butterflies still fluttering in my stomach from his touch.

He took my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine. "Maybe," he agreed, his eyes holding mine. "But who knows what secrets lurk in the Restricted Section?"

Suddenly, a voice broke through my concentration. "Y/N!"

I looked up to see Charlie Spinnet standing awkwardly in front of me, a hopeful smile plastered on his face. My stomach lurched, a flicker of unease coursing through me.

"Charlie," I stammered, unsure of what to say.

"Hey," he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Before I could answer, mattheo’s voice cut in, laced with a dangerous edge.

"Actually, she can't," Mattheo drawled, His eyes narrowed at Charlie, a dark glint flickering within them.

Charlie gulped, his hopeful smile faltering. "M-Mattheo," he stammered. "I just wanted to…"

"Whatever it is," Mattheo interrupted, his voice low and cold, "it can wait."

The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife. My heart hammered against my ribs, caught between the awkwardness of Charlie's unexpected presence and the possessiveness radiating from Mattheo.

"But—" Charlie began, but Mattheo cut him off again.

"No buts, Spinnet," Mattheo said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Now, if you'll excuse us,"

He took my hand possessively, his fingers wrapping around mine with a force that left no room for argument. Before Charlie could stammer another word, Mattheo practically dragged me away.

We walked in silence for a moment, the only sound our hurried footsteps echoing through the empty corridor. My cheeks burned with a mixture of annoyance and a strange sense of… satisfaction?

"Mattheo, that was a bit harsh," I finally said, breaking the silence.

He stopped abruptly, turning to face me. His gaze was intense, a storm brewing within its depths.

"He shouldn't have bothered you," he said, his voice low and possessive.

"He was just trying to talk to me," I pointed out, a hint of defiance creeping into my voice.

"And what exactly did he want to talk about?" Mattheo challenged, his jaw clenched.

"I don't know," I admitted, shrugging my shoulders. "But I should have been allowed to find out, shouldn't I?"

Mattheo seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment, his emotions flickering across his face. Finally, he sighed, the tension slowly ebbing away.

"Look," he said, his voice softer now, "I just… don't like the idea of someone else getting close to you."

My heart skipped a beat. Was he… jealous?

"Why not?" I couldn't help but ask, a teasing smile playing on my lips.

He hesitated – a rare sight that sent a thrill through me.

"Because…" he stammered, searching for the right words. "Because maybe you mean more to me than I care to admit."

The words hung in the air. A smile bloomed on my face, wider than it had in weeks.

"Is that so, Riddle?" I said, my voice barely a whisper.

He met my gaze, his eyes filled with a newfound vulnerability. Leaning in closer, he brushed a stray strand of hair from my face with his thumb.

"Maybe it is," he murmured, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to mine.

Before we could explore that maybe any further, a loud cough echoed through the corridor. We sprang apart, startled, to see a smirking Enzo leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed.

"Oh please don’t let me stop you ," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Mattheo scowled, his usual bravado returning. "Get lost, Enzo," he snapped.

Enzo, unfazed, simply chuckled. "Just making sure you're not neglecting your studies, brother dearest," he said, his voice dripping with mock concern. "Professor Flitwick wouldn't be happy if he caught you missing his lecture because you can’t keep your hands to yourself those days "

My cheeks burned even hotter. "We weren't… ," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

Enzo chuckled. "Whatever you say, sweetheart . But don't worry, your secret's safe with me." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Though, if you're looking for a more private place next time, I know a few hidden alcoves that are perfect for… well, you get the idea."

"Thanks, Enzo," I said smiling trying to get away from this conversation as fast as possible .

"Anytime," he replied, throwing a playful two-finger salute before disappearing back down the corridor.

Mattheo and I stared at each other for a long moment, the tension thick in the air.

"I think I need to go …" I began, unsure how to proceed “ see you at ummm….”

"...Great Hall," Mattheo finished my sentence, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment. Though his earlier possessiveness had surprised me, I couldn't deny a flicker of warmth at his reluctance to see me go.

"Yeah, the Great Hall," I confirmed, unable to meet his gaze for too long. The lingering confession, the stolen moment almost-kiss, hung heavy between us.

As I sank deeper into the worn armchair, a group of giggling Gryffindor girls approached, their chatter drawing my attention.

"Y/N!" Lavender Brown announced, her voice bright with excitement. "Did you hear? There's supposed to be a total lunar eclipse tonight!"

My heart skipped a beat. A lunar eclipse? A shiver of excitement ran down my spine. For the first time in years, I hadn't even been aware of such an event. But more importantly, they were inviting me.

Parvati Patil chimed in, her dark eyes sparkling. "We're all planning to gather near the lake to watch. It's supposed to be incredible! Are you coming?"

"I…" I stammered, unsure how to respond.

"Oh, come on, Y/N," Padma, Parvati's twin, nudged me playfully. "It'll be fun! We can all gossip and make wishes under the moonlight."

A lump formed in my throat. It was a simple question, but it felt monumental. An invitation to not just witness a celestial phenomenon, but to be included, to be a part of something.

For a moment, I simply stared at them, my mind struggling to process the shift. Was this real? Did they genuinely want me to join them?

"I don't know," I mumbled, looking down at my shoes. "Maybe…"

"Don't worry, Y/N," Lavender reassured me, sensing my hesitation. "It's up to you. But if you do decide to come, we'd love to have you."

With a warm smile, they turned to leave, their excited chatter fading as they descended the stairs. I watched them go, a wave of indecisiveness washing over me.

The rest of day went by quickly as I was still thinking about the invitation then mattheo I looked around searching for him

I spotted him by the courtyard, leaning against a stone pillar, his usual air of nonchalance masking a hint of concern. As I approached, he pushed himself off the pillar and met my gaze.

"Hey," he said, his voice laced with a question as his eyes scanned my face.

"Hi, Mattheo," I replied hesitantly.

"Everything alright?" he asked, his brow furrowed. He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from my eye with a gentle touch .

Taking a deep breath, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "There's a lunar eclipse tonight, did you know?"

He blinked, surprised by the abrupt change of subject. "A lunar eclipse?" he echoed.

"Yeah," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. "Apparently, it's supposed to be the biggest one in years. Everyone's going down by the Black Lake to watch it."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Everyone, huh?" he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Well," I admitted, feeling my cheeks flush, "not everyone. But some people. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil invited me, and…"

I trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence. Did I dare ask him to join me?

"And?" Mattheo prompted, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"And," I mumbled, looking down at my shoes, "I was wondering… would you maybe want to come with me?"

The playful smile vanished, replaced by a look of genuine surprise. "With you?" he echoed.

I looked back up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "Yeah," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "If you want to, of course."

He held my gaze for a long moment, the silence stretching between us. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, warm and genuine.

"I'd like that very much, love ," he said, his voice a low rumble.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues of orange and pink, I made my way towards the Black Lake. The crisp autumn air buzzed with excited chatter as students from all houses gathered, blankets and snacks in tow, eager to witness the celestial spectacle.

A warm hand brushed against mine, sending a jolt through my system. Turning, I met Mattheo's gaze, a spark of amusement dancing in his eyes. He wore a casual smirk, but the way his hand lingered on mine spoke volumes.

he breathed, taking in the scene before him. "Didn't expect the whole school to be here."

I chuckled. "Apparently, lunar eclipses are kind of a big deal."

We weaved through the crowd, Lavender and Parvati waving to us over Theo , Enzo even Blaise was there too that was really unexpected . We settled in, surrounded by the cheerful chatter and laughter.

As the moon began to cast its silvery glow, a hush fell over the crowd. Everyone turned their eyes skyward, captivated by the gradual darkening of Earth's natural satellite. Mattheo, however, seemed more interested in me than the moon. His hand brushed mine again, sending a delicious shiver down my spine.

Leaning closer, he whispered in my ear, his voice husky and warm. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

I nodded, unable to tear my gaze from his face. "It is," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

He tilted his head slightly, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to mine. Just as I thought he was about to kiss me, his voice dipped even lower.

"come with me. "

The surprise on my face must have been evident. "Where?" I stammered.

he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "Trust me, it'll be worth it."

We walked for what felt like an eternity, the only sounds the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional rustle in the bushes. The air grew thicker the deeper we ventured, and a sense of unease gnawed at the edges of my excitement. Just as I was about to voice my concerns, Mattheo came to a stop in front of a section of gnarled oak trees, their branches intertwined in an almost unnatural way.

"Here?" I asked, eyeing the dense foliage with suspicion.

He smirked, his eyes gleaming in the faint moonlight that filtered through the canopy. "Here," he confirmed, stepping forward and pushing aside a thick curtain woven from the very leaves themselves.

To my astonishment, a hidden passage unfolded behind the makeshift doorway. A narrow path, barely wide enough for two people, stretched into the darkness, illuminated faintly by glowing mushrooms that dotted the damp stone walls.

My initial apprehension warred with the budding trust I felt for Mattheo. Taking a deep breath, I gripped his hand tighter. "What is it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Just trust me," he murmured, his touch surprisingly gentle.

We walked in silence, the air growing colder and the earthy scent more pronounced. The path eventually led to a sturdy wooden door hidden within the rocky wall. Mattheo pushed it open, revealing a sight that took my breath away.

It was a small, circular room, but its crowning glory was a large, arched window that took up most of one wall. Through it, the eclipse was on full display, the shadowed moon hanging in the inky black sky. But unlike the darkness of the forest, here, the view was clear and breathtaking

I breathed, my surprise echoing in the stillness of the night.

Mattheo chuckled, a hint of pride in his voice. "Told you it was worth it."

"This is…" I stammered, searching for the right words. "Amazing."

Mattheo smiled, his hand moving to brush a stray curl from my face. “We found this place a while back," he explained. "It's kind of a secret."

He pulled me towards the window, his arm wrapping around my waist, stood behind me , gazing up at the celestial phenomenon unfolding above us. The darkness, once menacing, now seemed like a vast, inky canvas upon which the eclipse played out.

"It's even more breathtaking from here, isn't it?" Mattheo whispered, his voice warm against my ear. , his words laced with something more than just the wonder of the eclipse.

I could only nod, my throat suddenly dry. The beauty of the celestial spectacle was undeniable, but it paled in comparison to the feelings Mattheo was stirring within me.

A warmth bloomed in my chest, a response that surprised even me. Mattheo's presence, so close and unexpected in this hidden haven, sent a delicious shiver down my spine.

As if sensing my shift, his arm tightened around my waist, pulling me closer. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the backdrop of the crackling fire.

Then, his lips brushed against my ear again. This time, the words were different. Softer, more intimate. "You're even more breathtaking," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down my neck.

My eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze reflected in the moonlight filtering through the window. The eclipse, forgotten for a moment, seemed to cast an ethereal glow on his features, highlighting the intensity in his eyes.

Before I could form a coherent thought, his lips met mine. The kiss was tentative at first, a soft exploration that sent a wave of warmth through me. Instinctively, I reached up, my fingers finding purchase on his arm.

A contented sigh escaped his lips as he deepened the kiss, his hand finding mine and intertwining our fingers. The touch sent a jolt through me, a current of electricity that ignited a fire within.

When he finally pulled away, a breathless gasp escaped my lips. My cheeks burned, my heart hammered a wild rhythm against my ribs. A shy smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

His gaze never left mine.He leaned down again, his lips trailing a path of fire down my neck. He paused at a sensitive spot just below my ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

Unable to hold back a moan, I arched my neck into his touch, a silent plea for more. His hand reached down, skimming the curve of my hip before settling lightly on my lower back as I felt the wall behind us

He was going to stop I know that he was going to hold back again "Wait," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. Looking into his eyes, I saw a storm of emotions – frustration, amusement. It was a look that made my heart skip a beat, a look that made me feel a dangerous mix of power and surrender.

"I want to " I stammered, unsure how to articulate the jumbled mess of emotions swirling within me.

"You sure?" he asked, his voice husky with suppressed desire.

Taking a deep breath, I blurted out, "I want this, Mattheo. I mean…I've never done this before, but I trust you. And I want it."

"Let's take things slow, alright?" He whispered softly in my ear and i nodded, his lips finding their way back to my neck, tracing over the mark he had just left behind.

"Mattheo," I moaned when he nipped at the same spot again, his teeth sharp and his lips unyielding.

"God my name sounds like heaven from your lips" he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear.

"Have you ever touched yourself, love?" His question caught me off guard, my breath catching in my throat as I shook my head. I had wanted to try but never mustered the courage.

"It's okay, my love," he reassured, his hands sliding under my top, caressing my skin with a tender touch that sent shivers down my spine.Then he gently pushed me up, settling me on the nearest table. "I'll take care of you."

Pressing more kisses to my neck, his hands moved to my hips, his fingers digging into my skin as he lifted my skirt slightly. "Is this alright?" he asked, his breath hot against my neck.I smiled at him and nodded again

“I’m going to touch you now, Just tell me when you want to stop, and I promise I’ll end it,” said with determination, his fingers brushing my cheek i nodded leaned forward to kiss him instead of just responding.

He did as he told , his fingers sliding into my pants proceeded slowly, finding my most sensitive spot, eliciting pleasurable sensations that made me arch my back and cling to him.

slowly rubbing circles around it. He used light pressure, but it felt amazing. His gaze intently watched my response, figuring out what i like.

He picked up the pace and pressure, sending pleasurable shocks through my body. my back arched as the ache between my legs increased. 

“God you’re so wet for me." he whispered, his voice filled with awe and desire. "Does it feel good?"

“ Yes , it feels so good.” I moaned softly, my voice barely audible as waves of pleasure washed over me.

"Can I?" he asked, seeking my consent.

"Yes, please," I begged, my desperation evident in my voice.

"It might feel strange at first, but I promise it will get better quickly," he reassured, and I nodded in agreement. With my consent, his finger slid between my folds, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. My hands found their way to his shoulders as I rested my head against them.

"Breathe, my love," he whispered, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of pleasure. I obeyed, inhaling deeply as a symphony of moans escaped my mouth, each one a testament to the pleasure coursing through my body.

"Mattheo," I moaned, his name a mantra on my lips.

"Yes, love. Talk to me," he encouraged, his movements slowing to allow me to catch my breath.

"There's something..." I tried to say, but pleasure engulfed me, leaving me speechless.

His lips found mine, his kisses distracting me from my thoughts as I succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure he offered.

"Just let go for me," he whispered against my lips, his breath igniting a fire within me that sent me spiraling into bliss.

His thumb applied pressure to my clit, sending electrifying waves of pleasure through my body. I gripped his shoulder tightly as he carefully added another finger, causing me to close my eyes in ecstasy.

"Don't close your eyes, love. Look at me," he urged, his voice filled with desire and a hint of command. I obeyed, locking eyes with him as his fingers found that specific spot inside me, unleashing a sensation I had never experienced before. It was so intense that I couldn't contain my scream of pleasure, feeling like I was soaring among the clouds.

He continued to target that spot, his gaze fixed on me as if he could read my every reaction. With a satisfied smile, he spoke soft words in my ear , reveling in my response.

His touch remained gentle yet firm, guiding me through the waves of pleasure until I reached the pinnacle, my body trembling in his embrace as I experienced a euphoric release unlike anything before.

"It's alright, I'm here," he murmured, his words a soothing balm as I surrendered to the pleasure that consumed me.

As I floated back to reality, I found myself in his arms, his gaze filled with tenderness and adoration. He leaned in, capturing my lips in a deep, passionate kiss that spoke volumes of unspoken emotions.

"Maybe you mean more to me than I care to admit too , riddle," I repeated his earlier words. But what I truly wanted to express was that, ,I think I'm in love with you, Mattheo Riddle.’

From that night onward, everything shifted, and my life transformed into a fairy tale. The intensity of my feelings for him grew so profound that a day without seeing Mattheo felt like an eternity, leaving me yearning for his presence. He cherished me as if I were the most precious gem in his life, and to say that I loved him would be an understatement; my emotions ran deeper than mere words could express.

Despite our unspoken declarations of love, we refrained from exploring further sexual intimacy after that intense encounter. However, the desire and longing between us only grew stronger, leaving me yearning for more moments of intimacy with him. Each kiss, touch, and gaze across the room spoke volumes of the love we shared, even if the three words were never verbalized.

The end-of-year party hosted by Slytherin was a legendary affair, whispered about in hushed tones by those who had attended in previous years. Despite hearing countless tales about the extravagant festivities, I had never been tempted to go, for me, it had always been an off-limits fantasy , one I didn't dare to try and make true.

As the "jinx girl", stepping foot into such a renowned event felt like a risky move. The thought of facing judgment, scrutiny, and potentially being ostracized by my peers held me back from even considering attending.

However, in those few months everything changed. I found myself shedding my inhibitions and fears, stepping out of my comfort zone and embracing new experiences. The bonds I formed with other Slytherins grew stronger, and I even made friends outside of Mattheo's circle, feeling more at ease and confident in social settings.

The Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry was as legendary as the end-of-year party itself. This year, however, a shared misfortune had united the two houses in a grudging camaraderie. Professor Flitwick, bless his innocent heart, had stumbled upon Blaise Zabini and a very surprised Gryffindor tangled together in a rather compromising position in a dusty basement corridor. Let's just say, both houses lost a significant number of points, paving the way for Ravenclaw to snatch the coveted House Cup in a landslide victory.

So, as the day of the party approached, a thrill of anticipation danced in my stomach.

"Mattheo," I said, catching his attention as I approached him and his friends. He gently guided me to sit next to him, holding my hands with a tender touch

“ yes love ? “

"Are we… are we going to the party tonight?" I asked, trying to gauge his reaction.

He looked up, surprise flickering across his face. "The party?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow. "You… you want to go?"

I felt a flicker of self-consciousness, but I held his gaze. "Yeah," I admitted.

“Honestly, Y/N," he said, "it's a bit… childish."

"Childish?" I repeated, surprised. "But everyone says it's a lot of fun!"

Enzo, chimed in with a shrug. "He has a point. It's mostly just first years causing mayhem."

There it was , that hesitation. Mattheo rarely said no to anything I asked.

He studied me for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features. He glanced at Enzo, exchanging a silent communication that left me puzzled.I don’t really understand I know they used to go every year .

He looked at me for a long moment, his dark eyes searching mine. Then, a slow smile spread across his face.

"Alright then love ," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "If you want to, then we'll go."

The Slytherin common room was a whirlwind of emerald and silver. Green streamers snaked across the ceiling, enchanted banners proclaimed Slytherin victory in various forgotten contests, and a cacophony of music and laughter filled the air. My heart pounded with excitement, a delightful mix of anticipation and nerves.

The atmosphere was vibrant, filled with laughter and music. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to have me there, chatting and mingling as if I had been a regular attendee for years.

However, what struck me as odd was how Mattheo and Enzo never left my side. It was as if they were guarding me, anticipating something that I wasn't aware of. Despite their usual easygoing demeanor, there was a sense of alertness in their actions that left me curious and slightly uneasy.

As the night progressed, I couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched, not in a malicious way, but more like a protective gaze. Mattheo and Enzo's constant presence by my side felt both comforting and unsettling at the same time.

I tried to brush off my unease and enjoy the party, engaging in conversations and joining in on the festivities. However, the nagging feeling that something was amiss lingered in the back of my mind.

It wasn't until later in the evening, when Mattheo and Enzo exchanged a meaningful glance, that I realized there was more to their protective behavior than met the eye.

Chaos erupted in the common room as Charlie Spinnet, stormed towards Mattheo. "Get her out of here now ," he growled, jabbing a finger in my direction. "Or I'll do it myself."

Before Mattheo could respond, the room fell silent. A Slytherin seventh-year, Adrian Pucey, stood on a nearby table, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hold on there, Spinnet ," he boomed, his voice cutting through the tension. "This year, we're doing something a little different… a play!"

A cheer erupted from the Slytherins, many of them eager for a change from the usual prank wars. Mattheo , however, remained unconvinced. He narrowed his eyes at Adrian, suspicion etched on his face.

As the play began, I couldn't help but notice the similarities between my name and the name of the girl portrayed in the story. It didn't take long for me to realize that the play was about a jinxing girl, and it described in vivid detail everything I had confided in Mattheo about my family and my troubled past at the lake that night.

Panic clawed at my throat. I stole a glance at Mattheo, but his face was a mask. He reached out a hand towards me, but I flinched back instinctively .

The room fell silent, every eye glued to me and the unfolding drama.

Onstage, the actress portraying me continued, her voice dripping with drama. "…driven by ambition, she stole her brother's place, but a terrible curse followed. Wherever she goes, misfortune befalls those around her. She's the jinx girl, a harbinger of bad luck!"

A collective gasp rippled through the room. Whispers erupted like flames, spreading fear and suspicion. I felt them scorching my skin, their judgment a suffocating weight on my chest.

Suddenly, a new scene unfolded on stage. A group of actors, portraying Hogwarts students, stood center stage. "Here's the dare," boomed one, a mock sense of bravery in his voice. "The boy who approaches the jinx girl and brings her to the party… wins!"

Suddenly, a commotion arose from the back of the room. Enzo and Theodore Nott , their faces grim, pushed their way through the crowd towards the makeshift stage. "Stop this!" Enzo said, his voice laced with fury. "This is out of line, Pucey!"

The actors scrambled off the stage, bewildered and slightly scared. The common room dissolved into chaos. Accusatory whispers turned into heated arguments. Pity and fear flickered in averted gazes. I even overheard someone mutter, "Did she really kill her brother?"

The roar of the party faded behind me as I sprinted down the Slytherin common room's hidden corridor, tears stinging my eyes despite my desperate efforts to hold them back. Mattheo's voice calling after me, pleading, only fueled my desperate need to escape.

"Y/N, please!" he shouted, but I ignored him, my feet pounding a relentless rhythm against the cold stone floor.

"Y/N!" he called again, his voice closer this time. Panic surged through me, lending me fresh bursts of energy.

Just as I reached the portrait leading out to the dungeons, a strong hand clamped onto my arm. I spun around, ready to lash out, but it was him – Mattheo, his face etched with a desperate worry I'd never seen before.

He tried to reach for my hand, but I recoiled violently. "Don't you dare touch me!" I screamed, my voice raw with hurt and betrayal.

He flinched, his hand hovering awkwardly in mid-air. "Y/N, love, just hear me out," he pleaded.

"Love?" I spat the word back at him, incredulous. "Don't call me that." The weight of everything that had just happened crashed down on me. The staged play, the public humiliation, the sickening realization that it had all been a dare.

"It's not what it seems like," he stammered, trying to explain. "I—"

"You what?" I interrupted, my voice rising. "It was all a lie, wasn't it? "

"No, no, I swear," he said urgently. "Everything that happened between us was real. My feelings for you…" His voice trailed off, his eyes pleading for me to understand.

But the damage was done. The carefully constructed trust – it had all crumbled to dust in the face of this cruel betrayal.

"Don't," I choked out, tears finally spilling down my cheeks. "Don't lie to me anymore."

A sob escaped my lips, and despite the anger burning within me, a part of me ached for the connection I thought we shared.

"Just give me a chance to explain," he pleaded, but I shook my head, unable to bear the sight of him anymore.

The truth, however distorted, was clear. "Wouldn't you deny it was a dare?" I challenged him, a flicker of defiance sparking in my tear-filled eyes.

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. For the first time, I saw a flicker of genuine pain cross Mattheo's usually guarded features.

"No," he finally admitted, and I felt a wave of numbness wash over me.

As I turned to walk away, he continued, "It was at first, but I swear that from that night at the Broomsticks, everything was real. I even forgot about that stupid dare. Everything that happened between us was real, you know that."

I scoffed, wiping angrily at my tears. "I don't know anything anymore," I said.

"Foolish me. That's why you didn't want Charlie to talk to me that day, wasn't it? Because he was going to expose you?"

""No, Y/N, I just didn't want you to get hurt __“

"You what?" I cut him off again, my voice trembling with fury. "How generous of you," I said sarcastically. "But look, you win now, Riddle. Won't you go celebrate? It was their dare,"

"I don't care about anyone else but you," he said fiercely.

I stared at him, incredulous. "Then why does it feel like you care about everything else more than me right now?"

He took a hesitant step forward, but I didn't back away this time. I met his gaze head-on, my heart a tangled mess of emotions.

"I can't lose you," he whispered, his voice filled with desperation.

"You already have," I said, the words like shards of glass in my mouth. I wanted to hurt him, to make him feel even a fraction of the pain I was experiencing.

"I ___ i love you," he confessed, the words hanging heavy in the air.

Love. The very word felt like a mockery.

I looked him straight in the eye, my voice surprisingly calm despite the storm raging within me. "And I hate you, Mattheo Riddle," I said, each word laced with the bitter taste of betrayal.

With that final declaration, I turned away, leaving him standing alone in the darkened corridor, the portrait swinging shut behind me.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle imagines #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle angst

[taexoxosgf]

ACROSS THE ROOM

PAIRING idol!mark lee x idol fem!reader

WORDS 6.4k

SYNOPSIS You were just so beautiful.  The type of beauty that seemed unattainable.  The type of visual Mark would never approach because he concluded that there are already a million people at your feet. 

WARNINGS both are hot (yes, this needs a warning), fluff if you squint (rlly hard), smut, vaginal fingering, oral sex (male & fem receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex, multiple orgasms, missionary, doggy, slight hair pulling

NOTES repost. my old account is gone because i’m the dumbest bitch on earth.

February.

It had been two years since your group debuted.  The award show season had just concluded and one idol group would host a party to celebrate all the hard work throughout the year.  

You practically lived at the company at this point.  Eating, sleeping, and spending all your breaks there.  SM Entertainment has strict schedules regarding breaks and recovery time which has you constantly feeling as if you’re doing one thing after another.  

Idols would rarely have any time for themselves or to let loose.  Between the busy schedules and performances, there was scarcely any time for family or friends. 

It’s only been two years, and you applaud other groups in the same company who have been slaving away for the past few years.  But that was the price for fame and riches.  Maybe it is worth it to some people.  It was for you.

The art of music and dance was all you loved since you were a little girl.  Performing for your family or school talent shows, your love for music never fizzled out as it did with some individuals.  It could happen in the future, you think.  You’re still early in your career, so you hope to become more optimistic; content with what you have. 

This year, the group that was hosts is NCT. Groups from big companies such as  HYBE, JYP, YG, etc. were in attendance.  Since it was a rare occurrence, the boys split the cost of the mansion. It was such a brilliant idea to do this, you thought. There were so many of them, and it probably didn’t even make a dent in their bank accounts.  It was a small price to pay so idols could freely interact without the pressure of cameras, and old friends could reunite.  

Even though your group was in the same company as many of the artists, it was difficult to have time for conversations due to busy schedules and different practice areas. And it was almost impossible to run into each other at the company due to its vast size. The possibility, if you could guess, would be about five percent.  If artists of the same company rarely saw each other, imagine how difficult it would be for artists from different companies to be companions or friends.  

It was easier to become acquaintances to friends if two idol groups had overlapping comebacks.  Music Bank, Show Champion, M! Countdown, etc. gave a lot of free time in between to hop over to different waiting rooms to converse with your colleagues. Your group was especially close with G-idle, showcasing false surprises every time your comebacks would be in the same time frame. 

Your close friend, Soyeon, stands beside you, her right hand holding a red solo cup.  

“So you never hang out with guys, and you haven’t fucked a guy since last year?” 

“Nope, I don’t intend to tonight. And you know how hard it is to hang out with idols of the opposite gender. ”

Her hands soothingly rub against the sides of your arms. “No, no, no. I’m not having any of that tonight. When do we get a chance to roam free? No judgment, but this dry spell is getting out of hand.”

You scoff at your friend before continuing, “Unnie, these are basically our coworkers, I don’t know.”  

She rolls her eyes at you before standing in front of you, face-to-face, “Oh come on, don’t be a buzzkill babe.  So you’re telling me you don’t think anyone is attractive in this house full of hot people?” 

Her question causes you to scan around the room and outside the backyard.  Your eyes halt for a split second, but continue scanning around, pretending it never happened.  

“Oh, I saw that,” she points at you.  “There is a guy you wanna fuck!” 

Throwing your arms down in a huff of disapproval, you’re about to give in to Soyeon’s frenzy.  “Girl, could you be any fucking louder?” 

“You better tell me now, I caught you bitch,” she playfully slaps your arm.  

You bite your lip slightly, contemplating revealing who it is.  Looking up at her, she’s staring at you with anticipation. Her eyes grow wider by the second and you’re not surprised when you’re giving into her puppy dog eyes.  

Your hands fall on her shoulders as you close in on the space between the two of you. “Mark,” you whisper.

“Oh my god!” 

You wince. 

“I fucking knew it! I always thought you guys would look hot together.” 

“What? You thought about this before?” 

“Maybe. But that’s not the point.  I swear I saw him eye you, and only you when you guys got here!” she’s already jumping and pushing you to the backyard before you can get another word out.  

You try your fucking hardest to push back against her, but it’s no use.  Her drunk ass is already overpowering you.  

Mark is beside the pool playing with some of his members and others from different groups.  Tossing the ping-pong, the millisecond has him hoping it can make it into the red cup charged with alcohol.  

“Fuck,” his failure causes him to throw his head back. 

“You fucking suck, I’m three cups from winning bitch!” Yeonjun yells from across the foldable table.  

His success in the third remaining cup has him rejoicing, and he daps up his teammates.  

“Now give the ball to Sunwoo.  He’ll land it at the house next door,” Mark retorts. 

“Aw, you’re about to lose, so you’re talking out of your ass.” 

“You’re so drunk, you know that?” Mark laughs, ignoring his friends' behavior.   He’s stepping away to let the following person use their turn. 

He’s looking around at all the people at the house.  This was the one night of the year he looked forward to.  Just friends having fun and letting loose, no cameras, no one to judge or inspect his every move or facial expressions.  

He spots you and Soyeon against the glass sliding doors.  You look so fucking hot.  Your top accentuated the curve of your waist so well, and he noticed the mini skirt on your body rides up a little more every time he steals a glance at you.  The top you wore showed the perfect amount of cleavage and your perky breasts are on display for everyone to see.  He wants to be the only one to see them fully. He wants to be the only one to see you naked in front of him.  

Oh, how he would love to fuck you. He couldn’t help it. You look so delicious standing there, with your pouty lips and doe-like eyes.  Your perfect body and silky hair.

To be honest, he noticed you at the company and could never work up the courage to start a conversation with you.  News flash: this has literally never happened to him before.  It was never difficult to speak confidently to anyone until you.  His extroverted personality suddenly does a one-eighty whenever he contemplates approaching you.   

You were just so beautiful.  The type of beauty that seemed unattainable.  The type of visual Mark would never approach because he concluded that there are already a million people at your feet. 

He recalls the few times he passed you in the halls and you politely bowed.  Or when your recording sessions would overlap slightly, and he would hear your voice in the studio.  Or when he passed by you in those tight clothes that barely covered your body practicing with your group. 

Mark couldn’t lie, you were the most attractive out of all of them.  He personally thinks, no one could compare, but he has yet to discover what you’re really like.  Not the personality you convey on-screen.  

This only happens once a year.  It was an opening for him to finally converse with you.  The company, media, or fans wouldn’t have a clue about it.  There would be no confession to them, the perfect chance to shoot his shot.  The only thing holding him back would be rejection.  At this point, the opportunity is too tempting to ignore as soon as he spots Soyeon pulling you outside the home. 

This is so embarrassing.

You and Mark make eye contact as Soyeon drags you out the door.  He doesn’t pretend to look away.  

“Come on! Move!” 

“No! Oh my god! Stop!”

Soyeon finally stops with the physical force, and you both stare at each other.  Her eyes move from your eyes to his, another way of telling you to get on with it. 

“Think about it, this is the one day of the year where you’ll really get the chance, and with no judgment. Or sneaking around,” she adds in the last part, hoping you would miss it.  And you definitely didn’t. 

She’s stern on her point, supporting it over and over again with more reasons.  The persuasion is working, you think.  And now, you’re seriously contemplating it. What’s the harm? Rejection? Embarrassment? You don’t even know if he wants you. 

But maybe she’s right. You’ll most likely never run into him after today, and if you do, it probably won’t be until the same time next year. 

“I don’t want to hear for months after today what could’ve been.  You’ll spend so much time regretting it.  I know you better than yourself,” Soyeon adds further. 

Her words finally fuel your courage to make a move.  “Okay, just give me a second to build some confidence, meditate, or something,” you’re shutting your eyes to soothe the nervousness away. 

“Mhm, but maybe make it fast. Hot guy my twelve o’clock, coming your way. You’ll thank me later!” she quickly warns you as she pecks you on the cheek before making her way out of your line of sight.

There is no time for you to process what’s happening, or to prepare after she utters her last words. 

Turning around, Mark is already directly in front of you, your eyes align with his chest and it takes all of you to meet his eyes.  

“You don’t seem too happy to see me.” 

He was so fine.  You just wanted to stare at him. No matter how weird that sounded.

He’s scanning your entire form, taking a moment to drink in your appearance as you respond.  “I don’t have any emotions towards you.  We’ve never formally met.”

“Formally?  Did we cross paths at a time I didn’t know about?” The ice clinks against the cup as Mark raises it to sip and his Adam's apple bobs in a thick swallow. 

“I don’t know.  Maybe you know the answer,” you’re habitually pulling your body towards him.  The scent of his cologne laced with weed fills your nostrils and you already feel the warmth of his body radiating off him. You just can’t help it.  You wanted him so badly, so badly that you didn’t second guess your obvious signals. 

“You’re acting a little too dumb, saying words before thinking them through,” the false confidence is oozing from your voice as you speak. Okay.  Maybe you’re drunk and you didn’t know it.  If that’s the case, you won’t stop any time soon. 

“What do you mean I’m acting dumb?” he follows his response with a chuckle at your assumption. 

“You approached me as if we knew each other, then suddenly, you’ve never seen me before?” 

“You’ve got it all wrong baby,” the pet name catches you off guard, but it rolls off his tongue like velvet.  “We’ve never met, but I’ve noticed you.” 

“Notice me? Elaborate,” you wanted to have him explain.  Maybe he wanted you as much as you wanted him. You had to be sure.  No embarrassment or rejection today, you exclaim to yourself.  But you couldn’t jinx it.  

“You’re the one I’ve been waiting to see tonight.”  

“So you didn’t see me come in earlier?” your orbs follow your index and middle fingers as they walk up his chest. Your fingers stop finally looking at him straight in the eyes, “I call bullshit.” 

“I did,” he glances at your hand on his chest before returning to you. “Just was waiting til’ I got you all to myself.” 

‘Well… wish fulfilled… So, what is it that you hoped to see me for?” 

He looks at you differently, and what you didn’t know was he’s contemplating saying the whole and honest truth or the version that wouldn’t scare your on-screen persona away.  The innocent, dainty, girl that would break if you press too hard.  But up until now, Mark only knew of that girl.  

“Hey, Markie!” Yeonjun walks up from behind Mark, obviously drunk.  He’s stumbling around, anchoring himself by putting a hand on Mark’s shoulder.  “I see your buzyyys” he slurs while directing his attention to you. 

“You’re really so so hot, Y/n.  If yous torn Markie here, down, I’m alayz here,” his hooded eyes scream drunk.  “Hyung, don’t put that away!” he yells to someone behind you.  

You’re turning towards the home to find the person he’s addressing, but he’s suddenly stumbling past you, unintentionally pushing you backward. 

You’re off-balanced and as you close your eyes to prepare for impact, it never comes, and you feel an arm wrap around your waist, preventing you from practically eating shit.

Mark's arms are around your waist, sending a scowl back at Yeonjun before directing his attention back to you.

"As I was saying.” 

You gaze up at him, your chest now pressed against his. 

“What I hope to see you for?”

“Go on.” 

Mark doesn’t know what comes over him suddenly, but he’s thinking he should just rip it off like a bandaid because it’s all or nothing. 

“Is to have me in between your legs, and you screaming my name.” 

“I’d like to see you try,” your eyes move down to his lips.  It was so tempting to just pounce on him right here, right now.  

It was clear that you both wanted each other as much as the other did.  The game you always played with men every so often got you what you wanted, but this time, with Mark, it was almost impossible to keep playing. 

Mark doesn’t respond verbally.  Instead, he takes his hand to move the hair sheathing your ear.  You think he’s about to whisper something, but he begins kissing your neck, trailing down from your earlobe. 

“Is that what you like to do? Test people?” his lips are against your ear and you’re caught off guard, doing everything in your power to hold back a moan. 

“Yeah, that’s what I want,” you respond softly, eyes shut.  

“Be careful what you wish for.  It might come true,” he brings his face to yours, and your lips are practically two inches apart.  The buzzing in your body doesn’t stop and you’re scolding yourself for wanting to give in so easily.  

You notice him biting his lip, content with the effect he has on you. 

You lick your lips, “And what if I want it to?” 

“You’re all bark no bite baby.” 

“If you want me to bite, I will.” 

“I have yet to see otherwise,” he whispers against your ear, lip grazing your lobe. Mark doesn’t follow with another word but your impatience and the alcohol coursing through your veins forces you to make the decision. 

You close the distance between you two, connecting your lips with his.  It was so sudden, but he kisses you back almost immediately, squeezing your waist harder and the other hand instinctively goes to your cheek. 

You forget about the world around you, and that people are basically watching you begin to make out with Mark in the middle of the backyard.  But the built-up lust makes everyone disappear. You’re both in your own world, with no other thought in your consciousness. 

You don’t know what Mark is thinking, but he’s in the same boat as you.  He wanted you for so long, and now he finally has you. Following that thought, he doesn’t know what he did in his past life to deserve this, but he must have saved an entire country to be able to receive what he’s experiencing now.  

You’re kissing more roughly now, your arms around his neck as he gropes your entire body.  Your hands snake up into his hair, and you find yourself pulling his locks as it becomes more intense.  When his hand snakes down to your ass, he squeezes, which earns a gasp from you.  

Mark takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into yours.  Your mouths fit each other perfectly, and you question if the other people you made out with in the past were real, because it has never felt this good before.  

After a while, you’re pulling back, Mark struggling to pull himself away from you. 

“Easy there,” your forehead is still against his, eyes on his lips. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he husks against your mouth. 

Both of your chests are rising and falling at a rapid pace, not realizing you needed to catch your breaths. 

“Upstairs, the second door, on your left,” the words roll off his tongue without hesitation. 

You’re mutually agreeing, you, with a nod as you slowly part, and your fingers run off his, until the tip of the nail.  It’s so hard to control yourself and act as if nothing had just happened.  

Of course, people were looking.  Some were whispering to each other, the others smirking, and finally, the one’s with a scowl on their faces as they watched each one walk away from the other.  

You’re in the room sitting at the edge of the bed as you wait for Mark.  You had just sat down and looked around the room.  It’s clean and smells husky, but you can tell someone was staying here due to the small duffel bag and clothing scattered across the floor. 

And you definitely couldn’t lie, you are so nervous.  What would Mark be like in bed? Rough, dominant, gentle, or maybe submissive?  It had been so long since you had sex, it felt as if you were a virgin all over again.  

You’re amidst your own thoughts when you hear the click of the door.  The door doesn’t open carefully, but it’s practically slammed open.  Mark doesn’t look back as he closes the door behind him, not even stopping for a single second.  The moment he sees you, he’s grabbing your face and smashes your lips against each other.  It’s too fast, all of it happening in one motion.  

You’re stumbling back until the back of your leg hits the edge of the bed, forcing you to sit back on it. But Mark’s lips don’t leave yours, following you and pushing you slowly until your back hits the mattress. His arms cage your body with his knee between your legs.  You feel Mark grab behind the bend of your leg to wrap around his torso while your lips are still attached;  Intertwining in perfect harmony.  

The buzzing all around your body only seems to grow stronger as he becomes more aggressive.  It was like he was so hungry that he couldn’t stop even if someone walked into the room right this instant.  You couldn’t lie, it would probably turn you on more.  

Mark couldn’t help it, you were just so insatiable, like a drug that he couldn’t get enough of.  Like a drug, he could take over and over, without getting sick.  He wanted all of you so badly, but only if you were willing to give yourself to him.  

The more you dive deeper into Mark, the more he sucks you in, and the more you want him. 

The makeout is unforgiving, animalistic almost. “So sweet,” he murmurs against your mouth.  It feels too good to open your eyes to him.  Your panties are already sticky and if this continues, you’d have to throw them away.  

You’re biting your lip as Mark’s lips leave yours to trail kisses down your neck.  He’s careful not to leave hickeys as he already knows that your makeup artists would be unforgiving.  

But Mark continues to trace kisses down your body, pulling down your skirt and practically tearing off your underwear in one motion. He’s kissing all around except where you need him the most and it makes you whine.  

“Tell me you want it,” this statement has you looking down and locking eyes with him. 

“Mark, just get on with it.”

“Try again,” at that, he presses circles at your clit without a warning. It’s slow, the pad of his thumb easing over your bud.  But it’s too slow, and you need more.  

“Mark, Please.  I want you,” you mewl, giving in to his demand. The one action already having you fall apart right under his fingertips.  Before you know it, you’re instinctively moving your body closer to him, the eagerness exemplifying the level of want when you’re clenching around nothing. 

“Yeah?” you don’t see it but the smirk he exudes at your greenlight is much more than subtle.  “Don’t have a smart-ass comment now?” 

Before you can retort, he’s diving head first, licking a stripe up your slit.  It’s a satisfying feeling, a gasp threatening to spill from your lips as the feeling of arousal becomes stronger.  

He’s continuing, knowing exactly how to turn you on, knowing exactly how to touch your body, and how to make your eyes roll back.  His hands roughly push against the sides of your thigh to prevent you from moving out of place and the dim lights aren’t a hurdle as Mark finds your clit and gives it a sharp suck.  It’s just the beginning as he continues slurping and sucking in all the right places, unforgiving as he gives you the best head of your life.  Your eyes feel as if they're going to fall out of their sockets at the perfect pressure and pace. 

“Fuuu-ck,” it’s stretched out, the same word combining with a previous moan that threatened to come out from the back of your throat.  

“You’re so wet,” he rasps against your cunt. “So fucking messy.” 

“Mark, don’t stop!” 

What you didn’t know is Mark loved giving head.  He didn’t need to receive anything in return.  Knowing he made his partner cum turns him on beyond belief.  Making you squirm and moan his name like a mantra has him instinctively rutting his crotch against the mattress.  

You didn’t know he was this good.  It’s as if you and he have done this a hundred times before.  You’re absolutely drenched, your arousal mixed with his saliva drips down your core.  But a mess was the last thing you and Mark worried about.  

“Mark, I need more,” you squirm beneath him, your voice sounding already fucked out.

“Is that a demand?” he’s teasing, inserting only his middle finger while awaiting your obedience. 

A small gasp leaves your lips before you utter a plea, “Holy shit, Mark, please.” You’re practically whining at this point while your temper and impatience becomes all too consuming. 

“That’s better,” he adds his ring finger, adding to the fullness and earning another gasp from you. 

“Damn.  Thinking about your face when you cum is already making me so hard,” he groans against your cunt and continues to slowly grind his erection against the mattress with no embarrassment.  You were already fucked out, but you could see him from your peripheral view, and if it wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, you don’t know what is.  

Mark’s watching your expressions as he slowly pulls his fingers out before plunging them back in.  He doesn’t let up as the slow motion suddenly speeds up, and he has you moaning and squirming underneath him. 

He suddenly sucks on your clit in sync with the rhythm of his fingers and your eyes practically roll into your head.  “Mark, Mark,” you shout as your thighs begin to quiver and you’re arching your back at the gratifying overstimulation.  

"I-I’m gonna cum," your words are barely audible, mingled with gasps and groans, but Mark attentively listens, hearing every sound that emanates from you.  He doesn't stop and keeps going in the same motions, only rougher and faster. It's not until he curls his fingers inside you that he finally reaches the sweet spot. 

Your orgasm hits you all at once, tears threaten to spill down the sides of your face as the band in your lower abdomen inevitably snaps, and your entire body shakes.  Mark sucks and slurps on your clit as if nothing happened, and you're virtually screaming.  The obscene sounds fill the room and don't halt until you beg him to stop and he notices the cum gushing out of your body painting his fingers and dripping down your cunt.  

“Fuck,” you’re spent, and it’s all solely from Mark’s tongue and fingers.  You haven’t even seen his dick yet, and it already tops all the other people you’ve decided to waste your nights with. 

“Done already?” The words are like butter, right before he licks another stripe up our sensitive core. “Well, I’m not done with you,” you quiver as he carefully drops the straps of your top, and then, brings the fabric over your head.  Your senses seem to be on overdrive today, and you can’t get enough.   

Mark's large hands glide from the inside to the outside of your thighs, merely to define the contour of your hips and waist, stopping to frame your breasts, and slowly begins circling your nipples, as if he read your thoughts.  “Feel good?” 

“Mhm,” the high from one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had begins to finally come down and you notice the lips that hover right above you. Before another thought, your arm hooks around his neck to pull him down onto your lips.  

He welcomes the kiss, mouth moving languidly with yours.  Both of your bodies melt into each other as the serene moment becomes all too comfortable.  His hand continues to press circles on your nipple as the other gently rubs against your waist, eventually moving down to your inner thigh, in an attempt to soothe your spent body. The push and pull of your lips continues on for a few moments before it becomes faster.  Mark bites down on your lower lip, but you whimper at the action because of the overwhelming sensitivity.  

At your whimper, he lets go to lick over your bottom lip as an expression of remorse.  You’re so overwhelmed, it's only now that you remember his very big problem.  It’s poking at your hip, and he lets you know he notices your revelation by experimentally pressing his erection against your center. This causes you to lock eyes with him, another smirk adorning his perfect face.  

Mark’s cockiness only instigates you to unhook the arm around his neck and move down to cup his erection.  You don’t even look down, staring up at him as you palm him through his pants.  “You just love playing games don’t you,” but the shaky exhale he withdraws notifies you of the facade.

“Only if you’re playing,” your hooded eyes and bottom lip trapped in between your teeth say much more.  The seductiveness of your tone only pulls Mark closer to you, him getting lost in every single sense. 

Mark decides at this very moment he's too impatient to withhold any longer.  He's had enough.  Enough of your doe eyes staring at him as if nothing else matters.  Enough with the melodious responses that exit your pretty lips. Enough of the temptation that you are. He's willing to obey every demand, no matter the cost. He thinks that even though you two hardly know each other, it's as if you've done this a hundred times before.

He is already withdrawing from your body to remove his clothing in front of you. The warmth is missed, but now you’re just sitting there in awe, because what the fuck.  The large t-shirt he always wore hid his delicious arms and oh so, thin waist. Mark’s towering over you and it’s difficult not to gawk at his figure.  The boxers that hug his hips are pulled down, revealing his big cock.  You knew it was more than average when feeling the imprint on his pants, but you almost drool at the sight in front of you.  

“Like what you see?” he’s emitting the same look, with the corner of his lip tugging up in return for your reactions.  

You don't say a thing, instead groaning at his languid movements, legs spread open, upper body propped up with your arms. You continue to watch as he puts his hand over his cock and gently strokes it.  Mark bites his lower lip to keep a groan at bay after stroking a little quicker.  Watching him fuck himself turned you on belief and it should be embarrassing but the sight was basically straight out of a porn video.  

“Let me help you out,” patience was never your strong suit, and the ogling only lasts a few moments before you’re on all fours, inching to the edge of the bed where Mark stands.  He lets you, removing his hand before you lick a long stripe up from the base of his cock, then slightly sucking the tip. A smile threatens to come about as Mark twitches at your action.  

“Stop teasing before I fuck you senseless against the wall,” he huffs, throwing his head back. Mark was so close to just pulling you off and using you if you let him.  You seemed to be taking your precious time, but he was slightly worried he would come embarrassingly fast if you were the one in control here.  Anything you did, he seemed to fall apart so easily.  Right into the palm of your hand. 

The warning was one that seemed like a reward to you, but you regress, pushing him into your mouth in one motion.  Immediately gagging, the tip hits the back of your throat fast.  It barely fits inside your mouth, and you find yourself using your hand to make up for the remainder.  “Shit, that’s it,” he groans at the vibration from your throat as his praise makes you moan, imagining his cock in your pussy later.

You can feel every ridge of his cock in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, sucking and moving back and forth.  He was so big, and the more you took of him, the more sounds came from Mark. It only urged you on further, sucking and bobbing like your life depended on it.

You’re squeezing your thighs together to aid the ache as the sound of the glide of your tongue against his cock is the only thing filling the air in the bedroom.  It seems to be the final straw when he uses his hand to twist your hair and pull you off his cock.  “Fuck, enough.  I’m gonna cum if you keep going.” 

You use the back of your hand to wipe off the corners of your mouth before Mark guides you onto your back with his hand still wrapped around your hair, the same hand resting on the back of your head. He's hanging over you once more, and the warmth you longed for returns.  Your legs are already spread open, wanting to cure the clenching of nothing in between your legs. 

“Are you sure you want this?” he’s biting his lip as he politely runs the hand originally entangled in your hair to push away the ones in front of your face.  

“Want you so bad,” your words combine with a whimper because he’s running his cock back and forth over your sensitive folds, collecting as much cum as possible.  

He offers a polite smile before he pushes in. It’s slow, but Mark’s size was far from normal, at least, far from what you’re used to. You feel so full and you both gasp at the contact, a grunt coming from him.  “Oh my fucking god,” you almost choke on your words, your mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as you adjust to his size.  Mark grunts against your ear at your pussy swallowing his dick.  If he were to die right now, this is what he guesses heaven would feel like.  

“Fuck,” he tests the waters by grinding his hips against you, and it already has your back arching.  “You’re so fucking tight,” his hands return to your waist, the arch of your back forced back onto the mattress. His hands are sure to leave bruises, but you couldn’t give a care in the world.   Every single movement and drag of his cock against your walls is ecstasy, the delicious burn fueling the awaiting high. “You’re such a good girl. Taking me so well,” he murmurs. 

“Mark, please move.” 

“So needy,” he rolls his hips against you once more, while his pelvis is against you, “Your wish is my command,” before pulling back and diving back into your heat.  “Oh,” a moan escapes your lips at the action. Your eyes are barely open, but those hooded eyes are focused on the Greek god in front of you.  You stare at the strained muscles all along his back, his whole body flexing with every movement.  

He’s repeating the same pull and push of his hips until there's a consistent pace, every stroke earning more sounds from you. The grip he has on you becomes tighter as he begins speeding up his thrusts.  

You’re practically sobbing at the way Mark burrows his cock inside you, fucking you so that you can’t walk the next day.  It’s so rough, breasts and body jolting with every movement, and you’re searching for stability by bringing your legs around his waist. You love it rough.  Wanting him to use you, use you in any way he wanted. Mark suddenly pulls out almost completely before brutally hitting the spot inside you where you need him the most.  

“H-holy shit, Mark.”

He’s so lost in the pleasure, the lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your ass and the feel of your pussy choking his cock like a vice makes it almost painful to hold back his moans. It’s an impossible task though, with you in front of him lost in pleasure, tits bouncing in front of his face with the pretty sounds coming from you.  Mark is too close.  Embarrassingly close.  He wants to prolong this as long as possible because he can’t seem to ever get enough.  

“You’re not the sweet, innocent girl everyone thinks you are, are you?” he spits and you’re too fucked out to decipher his words.  “W-what,” your words combine with a moan because you yourself feel the forming of another orgasm in your lower abdomen and attempt to meet his thrusts halfway to reach euphoria. Tears are threatening to fall, makeup smeared, but you don’t give a care in the world as Mark continues.  

“You act like an innocent school girl who’s gonna break if she receives one insult,” he scoffs.  “But you’re not,” before he can finish his string of words, he’s pulling his cock out of you to turn you around onto your stomach.  You yelp at the action before you feel his arm hook around your waist, bringing you up to your knees. 

 “You’re dirty, walking around in clothing that barely covers your body, so what? So you can get fucked?” you gasp as Mark plunges his cock back inside from behind, the new angle making you squirm. He has his lip caught between his teeth as he continues with the pace he exercised prior. 

“Mark I-i’ll come,” you're dropping to your elbows after your arms give out. It seems as if Mark is in the same boat as you when his thrusts become faster and more aggressive; if that’s even possible.  Your brain feels like a puddle of mush, the band threatening to snap again.  

“You got what you wanted,” he leans down to hover against your ear with his chin against your nape, not stopping the addictive pace of his thrusts.  “But you got it all wrong.” 

“Mark d-don’t stop! Fuck!” 

He brings his arm back below you and pinches your clit.  "From now on, I'm the only one who gets to fuck you. Got it?" You're not sure if it's the hazy words that come out of his mouth or the way he explores your body, but you're at the point where you'll do anything to get to the goal given that your legs are shaking. You’re so close, and you want it so fucking bad.  

“Yes! Fuck yes!” 

“So good.  Come for me, baby,” He rasps, unable to hide how fucked out he is. With a few more thrusts from Mark, the coil finally snaps and your entire body convulses underneath him. He keeps going even after this, pursuing his high and intensifying the orgasm. You're shaking and sobbing, and it's spreading throughout your body, beginning in your lower belly and progressing throughout.  It’s consuming you completely, the addicting high turning your body into a mass of nothing. A moan threatens to escape from your throat, but to no avail, not a single sound comes about.  

"Holy shit, so fucking tight," your pussy spasms around his cock, making it difficult for Mark to move, but it's enough for him to reach his, cum painting your walls as he rides out both of your peaks; Your cum and his mix together as it drips down your body. 

You feel your entire body collapse back onto the mattress as you come down, and your consciousness battles with the idea of sleep as it wanders. 

 Not soon after, it finally gives in.  

The intense rays of the sun through the drapes forces you awake, eyelids fluttering at the intrusion.  You rub your eyes before opening them, and after a few moments, you realize that this isn't your room, and memories from the night before resurface.  While twisting your body around to the opposing side, a small smile appears on your lips.  

Mark is fast asleep beneath the sheets, his features serene.  You simply want to continue watching him sleep with no expression on his face because he's simply, well, gorgeous.  But you quickly second-guess yourself and determine that, yes, this is a little weird, therefore getting up to use the restroom to distract yourself was the best decision.  

Before your feet can touch the cold floor, a hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you back to your original position.  Except, this time, Mark’s arms are wrapped around your entire figure, his chin resting against the crown of your head. 

"Let's just stay like this for a little while," he declares, lids remaining closed. 

You melt against him, with a small laugh pervading the room, and say, "Okay." 

Soon after, you're both falling asleep once more, bodies entangled like they were the night before, but for a completely different reason. 

#nct 127 #nct u #nct dream #nct #nct smut #nct hard thoughts #nct x reader #nct x y/n #nct x you #mark lee #lee mark #nct mark #nct mark lee #mark lee smut #mark smut #mark lee x reader #mark lee x you #mark lee x y/n #mark lee fluff #mark lee fanfic #nct fluff #nct fanfic #nct ff #nct fic #nct fic recs #nct female oc #nct mark x reader #nct mark smut #nct mark fluff #lee minhyung

[ynyaan]

𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙡 𖦹 | 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𓆩♕𓆪

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

𝙈𝙤𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙣𝘼𝙐!𝙎𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝘾𝙡𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 | 𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Summary: You wear "revealing" clothing to a supermarket with Sukuna. Unfortunate to say, two strangers were not at all pleased. "Like hell, I'd let you touch her." He grits his teeth, watching the man in front of me kneel and wither in pain.

tw. you can change what you wear to what you please. In this fic though, it's described to give more context. Sukuna in his own body modern AU. Getting shamed; use of words: whore. Sukuna is violent as usual.

note. got emotionally personal here. I hope you find comfort in this fic as I did when I wrote it. <33

.ᐟ 𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙝-𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛

Today was shopping day. You've finally run out of enough comfort foods to force you out of the house. You groan loudly in your room. You were wearing only your undergarments and were already getting tired of the idea of having to find clothes to wear.

a familiar face walks by your room. Sukuna stops and leans on your door, his eyes observing your lazy state. "C'mon brat. Dress pretty. I'll take you out after shopping."

Your head snaps excitedly to Sukuna. It was rare of him to invite you out, especially since you were both so busy all the time. You simply just cherish the swift time at home cuddling and whatnot. Sukuna smirked at your reaction. Satisfied, he left to give you time to choose and change clothes.

After much consideration and throwing closet clothes on the floor, you decided to wear something showy, a cropped tee with its ends tied, a plaid skirt that falls above your knees, paired with a small bag and boots. You choose your accessories, put on a touch of makeup, and then you are good to go. "Kuna~!" You sing.

As you walk out the door, you find Sukuna looking at his phone and then quickly looking at you. You twirl, showcasing your outfit as he smiles. He walks towards you and grabs you by the waist. "How awful. My princess dolled up so pretty." He grins, his grip on your waist secure, leaning in for a kiss.

You stop him with your hand. "No. Kuna' we all know what a kiss will lead to," You pout, and Sukuna laughs silently on your skin. "Now, come on, I expect you to take me on to a charming night!"

The supermarket was the same as ever. Customers minding their business, the sound of cashier ringing in the distance, and stocks of your comfort foods.

"Ahh, there you are. I've missed you." You gleam at the snacks in front of you. Snack's destined to be finished within the week. You were left alone for a bit since Sukuna usually parts with you to grab things he needs as well.

By "needs," he grabs excessive amounts of food that would leave you bankrupt if you didn't pick through them every time you passed by him.

"Hey there." Suddenly, someone taps your shoulder. You turn your head to see two guys standing in front of you.

"Hello, do you need help with anything?" you smile politely.

"Ugh, seriously?" The first guy sneers. You tilt your head at him, hoping that comment wasn't directed at you.

"Dude, she's totally leading us on. Did you see that snarky smile?" The other guy says. Your eyebrows bridged together. Just your luck to be left in an aisle with these two idiots, huh?

"Sorry, you're getting the wrong idea-" You get cut off by a hand that warmly placed itself on your shoulder.

"You know em'?" Sukuna's voice was husky and low, gesturing his head towards the two men.

"Not really—“ Before you could finish explaining, The second guy from behind steps in, "Dude, you should really cover your girl up." He comments.

"Yeah, like, the way she looked at us earlier? damn, I almost mistook her for a whore." The other one added. Your heart sank at the disgusting comments made by them. You placed both your hands on your skirt, your basket resting on your arm. You actually felt confident to wear something like this because you knew Sukuna would be with you, you knew Sukuna would approve of it, and you knew YOU would feel good as well.

"Ha." your thoughts get cut off by Sukuna's voice. If looks could kill, indeed. You knew this situation would escalate, and really, all you want is a smooth, relaxing evening with your lover.

You raise your hand high enough for them to notice, "I'm sorry, you really got the wrong idea—“ Suddenly, the first guy tries to grab you by extending his hand swiftly, but before his fingers could reach you, Sukuna stops him by the wrist.

The next thing you hear is the painful cry and a loud snap. Sukuna broke his wrist all while his other hand was still secured onto your shoulder.

"Like hell, I'd let you touch her." He grits his teeth, watching the man in front of me kneel and wither in pain. The second guy wasted no time and launched at Sukuna, only for him to be dodged and punched right in the nose.

People started clamoring around, and you could already hear security calling backup.

"Sukuna, let's go." You urge him but not waiting for a response. You grab his hand, and you drop your basket. You run.

You were both parked at a nearby park, immediately driving away after leaving the supermarket. "You really didn't have to do all that ryo'." You softly say, inspecting the hand that he used to punch the guy.

"Besides, it's my fault. I should've dressed more modestly." You muttered under your breath. But He heard it.

"Don't ever fucking say that again." He grits his teeth. You look up at him, surprised by the sudden anger in his tone. His expression was tense, worried? maybe even a gloss of tears, if you will.

He moves his hand to push strands of hair behind your ear. It was soft, so painfully gentle. "People like that don't deserve to live. They don't deserve to have eyes nor mouths." He rambles, cupping your cheeks and kissing everywhere.

"If they were decent people, they wouldn't even think of looking at you like that, darling. They are delirious, annoying, little shits, who have nothing to do but try and push people down." He holds your hand firmly, his gaze unflinching.

"you will not be knocked down, my love. They do not deserve the space in your mind to bring you down." He lowers his head and kisses the back of your hand.

You exhale. You exhale and smile.

"I love you," he says. He looks so unbelievably beautiful.

You squeeze his hand gently before replying, "Thank you, kuna’. I love you too."

He smirks, a playful grin places itself on his lips. "That's my girl."

"I supposed we'll be banned there, won't we?" You ask, remembering the reason why you were in the supermarket anyway.

He scoffs, "Whatever, i'll ask someone else to do it for us." Sukuna grumbles, kissing the tip of your nose.

He leans back and starts up the car again, "Right now, you deserve a date."

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 <𝟥

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jjk #jjk sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #jjk fluff #sukuna x fem reader #sukuna x you #protective sukuna #sukuna ryomen #fluff sukuna #sukuna fluff #yup i know this man will tear me apart irl #jjk x reader #reader insert #jjk men #fluff #sukuna drabble #jujutsu sukuna #sukuna fanfic

[ohimsummer]

SATORU, your muse ｡˚✐~

— Satoru eases open the door of the house. You’re not home, so he doesn’t feel the need to make his usual grand entrance. Shoes are left at the door, jacket on the rack, and Satoru makes way to the bedroom. Once inside, something on your nightstand immediately catches his eye.

It’s your sketchbook; a now worn, leather notepad that he’d bought you months ago after the old one was filled. You rarely, if ever, let him see your artwork, so Gojo would usually resort to peeking over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of what you were working on. He always teased you for keeping your art a secret, but now that he has a chance to look at your projects uninterrupted, he hesitates. For a second.

Satoru flips open to the first page. It’s just random doodles of flowers and animals, ones he recognizes from the garden in the park you two frequent. The next page warrants the same mundane results: bugs and trees and the tops of skyscrapers and whatever random things that would grab your interest while you two enjoyed the heat of the sun.

The next page catches Gojo by surprise. It’s a bird, but not just any bird, he realizes. It’s a songbird, one he’d half-heartedly pointed out to you one day because he recalled reading about it online. You weren’t even listening to him, or so he’d thought. It’s kind of endearing actually that you’d take the time to draw it. And it’s not just the bird, either. It’s the macaroons he’d mentioned wanting to get one evening, a bouquet consisting of a flower Gojo’d randomly plucked and presented to you, a familiar pair of sunglasses resting in grass, dabbed over top with faded blue watercolor paint. Numerous doodles of such small memories.

Satoru continues flipping to look at your little illustrated photo album. Some of these drawings are of stuff he barely remembers talking about, like a cracked open piggy bank obviously referencing a story he told you in passing. Gojo doesn’t even remember why he brought it up, but you’ve immortalized it here in your sketchpad with pencils and ink.

The drawings only grow more detailed as he gets deeper into the book, and a proud smile stretches across Satoru’s face at your talent. Rapid sketches of buildings and passerby evolve into self portraits of yourself, and he thinks you look so captivating in all of them. Gojo takes note of the silly doodles of even himself in the margins of the paper. Him in his sunglasses, him wearing the flower crown you’d poorly put together, him surrounded by ice cream and candy and the plethora of sweets he so enjoys. His favorites are the inane drawings of you two together, tiny and inhabiting multiple corners of every page. Each one is a delightful surprise to spot.

Satoru turns the next page, and he’s sincerely taken aback. Drawings of eyes, and they all look alike. They’re so detailed, adorned with pretty lashes and shaded so beautifully. He doesn’t have to wonder long on whose eyes these are, the next page bursting with the color blue tells Gojo all he needs to know. He’s glad you’re not here to see his reddening face and the way his breath hitched. This page, the next few actually, are all dedicated to his eyes. They’re inked perfectly, some are at different angles, and you’ve managed to portray emotion into all of them. Satoru wonders if he could draw a picture of you and showcase the absolute adoration in your eyes the way you’ve done with his.

And it doesn’t stop there. Page after page, it’s all Satoru. Him sleeping with a mushed cheek against your chest, him drinking a soda, him looking out the window, him playing the game with Geto, when did you even draw these?

“Satoru?”

He quickly slams the book shut at your call, carefully placing it back on your nightstand and ushering himself from the room. There you are at the door, shaking the rain from your umbrella and leaving it on the mat near the entrance.

“There you are, love.,” you beam at his approaching figure, and Gojo squishes you in a warm embrace. “How was your day?”

Satoru kisses the crown of your head, and grins against your skin. He can’t wait to tell you all about today, maybe give you some more brilliant ideas to memorialize in your sketchbook.

#satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x reader fluff #jjk x reader fluff #jjk fluff #satoru gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru fluff

[wttcsms]

turn on the flash and hit record ; simon “ghost” riley.

pairing simon “ghost” riley x f!reader word count 1.5k synopsis simon misses you on one of his missions. good thing he has a collection of movies the two of you filmed to keep him company. content contains male masturbation, possessive!ghost, obsessed!ghost, filmed sex, vaginal fingering, brief gunplay (towards the end), he whimpers in this fic btw, slight size kink/size difference

Everything about you seems to have been made specifically for him, from the way your eyes seem to always catch his to how easily he can manhandle you, flipping you into different positions as he very well pleases.

You indulge with his every whim, eager to follow his commands and so when he asks you love, can I record you just this once? you agree with little to no hesitation. After all, it’s Simon, your Simon — you know he’s possessive almost to a fault, and the man rarely shows his face unless he truly trusts the person he’s baring himself to. There’s no chance someone else will be able to get their hands on the footage.

His missions last too long, and the weeks he spends separated from you are nothing short of pure agony. Before you, he didn’t feel the constant need for release, but after you? He craves it. You only realize you’re starving after having a taste of what you’ve been deprived of for so long.

Which is how he finds himself here, tucked safely away in the darkness of a room in a safehouse that’s seen better days, the front of his military-issued pants and briefs pulled down just enough to free his cock.

The tip is flushed red, already leaking with pre, and he spits into the palm of his hand before wrapping it around his length, practically hissing at the contact. Propped up on the nightstand and located in his direct line of sight is his private phone containing only your number and an album full of photos and videos of you in different positions and various states of undress.

Recording you just once turns into a second time which leads to him recording the two of you going at it for a third time until eventually, he’s built up quite the collection. The video playing on his phone is one of his favorites; it’s one of the first he’s ever filmed, proven by the shyness still evident on your face and body as you blush when the camera lands on you.

You’re lying on the bed he shares with you, completely bare and entirely vulnerable. Scattered across your skin are various lovebites, all varying in depth depending on whether he wanted to give you just a playful nip or true mark to remember him by when he’s gone.

You look so pretty right now, love. Let’s hope the camera can catch that beauty, huh?

He can hear the familiar sound of his chuckle coming from the video; you’re the only person left in this world to ever see him with such a playful demeanor, but his laugh might be the last thing on your mind. He’s certainly not thinking too hard when the camera angles downward to showcase your dripping cunt.

Simon takes a sharp inhale as he watches the way your folds are practically glistening with your slick arousal.

Wonder if your pussy’s so wet, I’ll be able to hear it in the video. What do you think, darling?

He tightens his grip on his cock as he watches himself enter three fingers, your tiny hole struggling to adjust to the abrupt intrusion. The shlick sound that accompanies every thrust is picked up by his phone camera, and Simon groans as the room he’s currently in gets enveloped in the sounds of him playing with your wet pussy.

“Fuck,” he hisses out, watching the precum bead from the tip of his cock, some of it slowly dribbling down, running along the veins on his dick. The extra lubrication makes his movements smoother, and soon, there’s a subtle clicking sound as he tries to stroke his dick in tandem with the thrusts he’s doing on the screen.

“Simon!” Your sweet voice moans out his name in the recording. He’s watched this video so many times already; he knows that right about now, you’re going to start lifting your pretty hips in an attempt to get his fingers to penetrate you even deeper. He remembers the night he filmed this video; he’s going to curl his fingers right up against that special spot of yours that’ll have you cumming all over his hand.

He struggles to keep his lidded eyes from closing all the way, desperate to watch your tiny hole fluttering around his fingers, squeezing him so tight. In turn, the grip on his dick only tightens as he watches you writhe on top of the sheets, slender fingers curling against the bedsheets as you scream out his name. The camera catches the way you cream all over his fingers, effectively coating his skin in it all the way down to his knuckles. It’s practically dripping all the way to his wrist.

The sight has him practically drooling, his strokes now even rougher. He imagines his rough, calloused hands are your smaller, soft ones. The girth of his dick makes you unable to wrap your whole entire hand, the tips of your fingers unable to touch due to his massive width. He tosses his head back, bucking into his hand as the audio from your little film still plays in the background.

Such a good girl for me. Always so needy, aren’t you?

He doesn’t need to see the video to know you’re nodding in reply. He watches through hazy vision as the him in the video takes his thumb and traces your bottom lip. Without him even needing to ask, you part those pretty lips of yours and take his thumb in your mouth, sucking.

Fuck, what he would do to have you here by his side right now.

He’ll have to make do with these videos, though. It’s not like these little films aren’t enough to bring him to release. The idea of his sweet love being his own personal pornstar does something to him, and he shuts his eyes, still working his cock as other memories of passionate nights beforehand flood his mind.

There was that one night where the two of you played one of the videos of him fucking you to the point where tears were brimming in your eyes due to overstimulation. He made a vow that for every time you came in that video, he would make you cum even harder. (He had done well in keeping that promise.) He thinks of the way your flesh feels underneath his fingers, and he relishes in the memory of how it feels to squeeze your thighs as he spreads you apart so he can savor the taste of you on his tongue. He could eat your little pussy out for hours, and after this mission, he makes a promise to do so.

He’s nearing the end of the video; he knows so because his favorite line is about to come up and at the perfect time, too.

Simon, I-I want your cum. Please come for me, please?

He doesn’t need to look at his screen to know you’re pouting up at him, knowing just the right thing to have him groaning. His breaths are coming in short pants, and your sweet, dulcet tone makes him want to come right then and there.

Please, Simon.  

Your little pleas for him to reach the height of pleasure is music to his ears. He’s practically whimpering now, forcing himself to stroke himself even more rapidly despite the fact that the stimulation on his already sensitive cock is blending pain into his pleasure.

“Gonna do it for you, love.” He weakly moans out in this empty room. He can feel himself about to fall off the edge, his release so close that it’s just about palpable. With a low groan of your name mixed with a string of curses, he finds himself ejaculating all over his hand. The amount of cum is so much that it’s not enough for it to just coat the entire length of his cock and fingers — no, there are strings of white splattered on his abdomen, effectively staining his uniform.

He’s panting, the video now over, but before he can shut off the phone, a text notification appears.

My Love [One Video Attachment]

He clicks on it, curious as to what you could possibly be sending him.

It’s a new video, one you must have just now filmed. You’ve got one of his guns, the magazine lying on the nightstand. He knows it’s unloaded and basically a toy at that point, but he doesn’t understand what’s going on until he watches you strip yourself, leaving your beautiful figure on display. He can see you dripping for him already, and he watches with bated breaths as you take the barrel of his handgun and tease your soaking entrance with it.

I need you so badly, Simon. When will you come back home?

His cock is already hardening again, and he palms himself, fumbling with his phone to call you.

Everything about you is perfect to him.

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #one shot #drabble #smut #lemon #modern warfare 2

[saturnville]

can I call you rose? major john "bucky" egan (masters of the air) x black fem oc (amelia egan)

content: a flashback to one of the first interactions of bucky and amelia. inspired by the song, "can I call you rose?" by thee sacred souls.

an: I've been on a writing kick lately. bask in it now before I go back into hibernation lololol. on a serious note, this was fun to write and I hope you enjoy it.

Local pubs were common safehouses for the men of the 100th. A place where they shed their military prowess at the door and cloak themselves in normalcy for a few hours.

Over 40 men crowded the dark pub; drinking, singing, and conversing joyously between themselves and the women scattered throughout. His eyes scanned around the room. Gale was whispering in the ear of a pretty blonde, who giggled like a school girl and Curt was dancing in the corner with a brunette with a gentle gaze. He chuckled to himself and knocked back the remainder of his drink.

John clenched his jaw and pushed himself off the rickety old couch. He whistled a soft tune as he trudged toward the bar. He's been disciplined (somewhat), having only drank two glasses. Gale would be so proud.

"What can I get for you?" asked the person behind the bar. Her back was turned to him, which made him scoff in amusement.

"Eyes in the back of your head?" John dropped his glass against the countertops. Her shoulders hook in amusement. She turned and pressed her forearms against the counter. John's eyebrow raised in interest.

"Something like that." Her dark eyes fell to the pins and badge against his chest. "What are you drinking, Major?"

"Whiskey." She plucked the glass from his lingering fingertips and refilled the glasses. His gaze was on her as she floated behind the bar with ease. It wasn't completely rare to see a woman bartending, but it was surely uncommon, nonetheless.

She looked damn good doing it, too. Her dark, pressed hair was tied back by a baby blue bandana, showcasing her beautiful features. She wore black tailored pants that complimented her figure and a black sweater. Her manicured nails clicked against the glass as she dropped it into his awaiting palm.

"Here ya go. Enjoy, Major."

He winced. That aspect of him was shed at the door. "John." His correction was gentle, but she heard the stern understones.

"Is that appropriate?" She questioned.

He shrugged and took a small sip of his drink. "It is because I said so. Now you," he leaned forward. "What's your name?"

He rose painted lips parted, but closed once she saw a smile creep on his lips, "What?"

John's tongue massaged the inside of his cheek. He asked, "Can I call you Rose?"

Her head jerked and he eyebrows furrowed. "Rose? Where'd that come from?"

John leaned back and tossed his arm over the neighboring chair. "Cause you're real pretty. You look sweet, especially with that dimple, and your perfume is...kinda strong. Smells like flowers."

She tried to fight the smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth Her brown eyes bore into his blue ones in awe.

"In that case, I will let you call me Rose. But, my name is Amelia."

John smiled. "Amelia Rose, see how pretty that sounds?" Amelia giggled and he swore it was the greatest sound on earth; an angelic song.

"Does everyone call you John?"

He shook his head. "Most people call me Bucky."

Amelia shook her head. "Then John is reserved just for me, yeah?" An indescribable emotion flashed through his blue eyes, but, she could tell he was satisfied, nonetheless.

John held her gaze as he brought his glass to his lips once more. "We've got a deal, Miss Amelia Rose."

-

"Rose, darlin'." Amelia turned at the sound of her name. She knew that voice all too well. It visited her during her dreams and soothed her to sleep in the evenings. A gleaming smile spread across her face. She dropped her rag and turned to face the door.

"Hi Johnny," she greeted softly. The seductive undertones in her voice, paired with the nickname had the eyebrows of Gale and Curt raise. John met her smile with a grin.

"I'll catch you boys in later. Rose, baby." John jogged toward the bar. Amelia met him halfway. He wrapped his uniform-glad arms around her waist and she sank into his embrace. His lips grazed the shell of ear. "How've you been, honey?"

It'd been months since their first meeting. They saw each other twice after that; another evening at the pub and a date. He took her on a date and surprised her with a bouquet of lowers; a dozen red roses.

For three months, their relationship progressed through a series of letters. She had more than she could count, all stashed safely in a box under her bed, handled with tender care.

"Good. Missed you. Glad you made it back in one piece." Amelia said, running her fingers across his pins and badge. "Do you want anything?"

John shook his head. "No. I'm here with the guys, but I'd prefer to talk to you without a drink. If that's alright with you."

Amelia laughed lightly and grabbed his hand. "Coffee it is."

-

"How long are you here?" Amelia asked, passing Johna ceramic coffee mug.

"Should be a month, but it's subject to change. But..." John's eyes lit up with hope. "I was hoping to spend some time with you if you'd like. Heard they've got a fun carnival going on tonight. You've yet to beat me in a game."

The young woman chuckled, remembering the intensely competitive game of cards they played every Friday up until he left. She smiled bashfully and nodded. "Of course."

John winked. "It's a date, Rosie."

#saturnville #original writing #black!reader #black reader #major john egan x black!reader #major john egan x reader #major john egan #gale cleven #major gale cleven #masters of the air #mota #mota spoilers #callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner x black!reader #callum turner x black reader

[enhadiares]

Hiiiii ❤️ Little request 🥰👉👈

can you do Enha Jay # mafia something like that it's kinda rare to find fics like that

love your fics so much sorry if i bothered you

🕷️A/N: IM SORRY IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO ANSWER YOU I REALLY AM 😭🙏 I HOPE YOU FORGIVE ME AND LIKE THIS ☹️☹️ I'll make a part of this if people like it and make it more yandere.

CHANCE

🕷️Warning: YANDERE THEMES , mentions of gun shot

🕷️ Pairing: mafia!Jay × doctor!reader

🕷️Synopsis:In the heart of a bustling city, Dr. (Reader) a renowned surgeon known for her unwavering commitment to saving lives, finds herself entangled in an unexpected situation when a notorious mafia leader, Jay Park, is brought into her emergency room, bleeding profusely from a gunshot wound and what's worse is that , he gets obessed with her.

It was a usual day for (reader). The sun shining brightly, doing it's job perfectly showcasing her . How she was at her workplace again right on time . Very punctual indeed. With being punctual (reader) was also very hardworking.

She's a doctor at the be:lift hospital. She loves her job . It gives her a sense of comfort knowing she helps people heal , maybe there's a chance that she would save someone from dying.

Life is a very valuable thing which you can get just once . There may be second chances and she's here to give people just that. Second chance to live their life again , this time while taking care of their mistakes , learning from them and not repeating them again.

Second chances , very fascinating and amusing aren't they? Some people get second chance while some don't , it's upon fate .

Back to (reader) , she had just completed an operation successfully , saving yet another life. She felt at ease knowing she gave someone another chance to live .

Suddenly her peace was interrupted by loud noises , people were screaming in a hospital? Oh how rude - she thought. She was going to go stop them and ask why they were screaming in a hospital in the first place , they should know that it might disturb the patients.

But just as she was about to open the door she heard footsteps , they were getting louder as seconds passed by implying that someone was coming towards her . They also sounded like they were in a hurry . Maybe someone is very serious! - a thought crossed her mind and without any further ado she opened the door only to be my by 6 men , all in a similar attire : a black shiny and shimmery blazer , colour like that of a black hole with shining black boots where one could see their reflection. Upon studying their faces , she could sense they were panicking.

“Are you the doctor? Hurry up , he got shot!” one of the guy stated. He looked young yet authoritative, like he had some power.

(Reader) quickly nodded , it was about someone's life! She has to save him. She called out for some nurses and took the injured patient to the operation ward while the other waited outside for them.

He got shot? How would he get shot? He isn't dressed up like a cop. Is he a criminal? Her eyes widen at the thought but she wasn't sure about the assumption she's making . Should she prioritize saving the life of a potential criminal , or adhere strictly to her oath as a healer?

As Dr. L/n and her team work tirelessly to stabilize the patient's condition, tension fills the air. The presence of the person's six brothers, each with a intimidating aura as his own, looms over the hospital.

As the operation progresses, Dr. L/n is faced with unexpected challenges. The bullet has caused severe damage, and the patient's condition deteriorates rapidly. Despite her expertise, she fears that his chances of survival are slim.

With time running out, Dr. l/n makes a bold decision. Drawing upon all her skills and determination, she pushes herself to the limit, refusing to give up on her patient. In a high-stakes gamble, she performs a risky procedure that could either save the patient's life or seal his fate.

As the operation reaches its critical moment, a hush falls over the operating room. Every second feels like an eternity as Dr. L/n and her team fight to wrestle the patient back from the brink of death.

Finally, the monitors beep with renewed vigor, signaling a glimmer of hope. Against all odds, his heart begins to beat steadily once more, and his breathing stabilizes.

The surgery is a success.

A sigh of relief escapes her as she removes her mask to breath properly.

----

She goes out to inform the six individuals outside the room , awaiting for their companion to be saved.

“The surgery was a success. The patient is out of danger now”

She could hear multiple sighs of relief. They all felt like they could finally breath again , their tensed shoulders relaxed a bit after hearing the good news.

“You'll have to come with me now , I have some questions to ask" said Dr. l/n . She needed to know what exactly caused this.

“We need to see hyung first” the young yet intimidating guy proclaims.

“sure this way , but only two of you can enter as we can not have he patient feeling overwhelmed” (reader) sighs yet expresses her duties.

“I"ll go check on him guys” states the young guy

“I"ll accompany you !" Another voice asserts . He looked mature , maybe he is the eldest .

Dr l/n leads the way to the operating room where he patient lies . Upon reaching the guys rush towards him while she stays back just to observe.

Meanwhile Jay finally regained his consciousness back and opened his eyes , to be met with a sight of an angel , or so he thought.

Was he already in heaven? Oh he can't be with the number of crimes he has committed. So who is this angel like individual?

Upon seeing his eyes open , the other two individuals rush towards him.

“Jay! Are you okay?” questions the elder guy

Oh so his name is Jay - thinks (reader)

The younger one hits him “ofcourse he is not fine heeseung hyung , would you be fine if you were shot?”

“I'm just trying to be caring Jungwon!”

There goes their introduction too.

Despite the chaos and danger that surrounds him, Jay is captivated by her grace and skill, feeling a stirring within him that he's never experienced before.

As Jay awakens in the recovery room, his thoughts are consumed by Dr. L/n . Entranced by her beauty and kindness, he becomes obsessed with the idea of making her his own, convinced that she is the one who can bring light into his dark world afterall she's the one who brought him back to life right?

Jay is occupied with the thoughts of his newfound obsession, but his is brought back to reality by his two companions inquiring about his condition. To which he replies that it's fine because he can't seem to focus on anything else than the angel standing infront of his eyes.

He's observing her - Her beautiful face as if carved especially by God , every inch of her face and body screams perfection to him. Her shiny black lucious hair which turns brownish under the lights , her small button nose , or her eyes - she possesses brown almond-shaped eyes, framed delicately by medium-length eyelashes that accentuate her gaze. Her lips, adorned with a soft shade of pink, exude a subtle allure, adding a touch of warmth to her features.

Oh he was down bad for her . Was this what people refer to as love at first sight?

A knock interrupts all their activities.

“We all need you outside , the patient needs to rest and we need your statement” says a nurse

They bid their byes and inform him that he'll be out soon but all he can think about is how to get his hands on his angel and make her his.

----

The interrogation is stopped. The individuals were influential people and so they can do whatever they wished and they did not wish for this information to be out so they hushed everyone with their power. They wanted jay to be safe so they commanded for him to be shifted at their house where a doctor would help him if needed and fortunately for Jay , (reader) was chosen since she operated on him.

----

The next day , Jay is shifted to the nursery that is located in his big mansion. (Reader) was surprised at how big the mansion was , so they were rich rich.

Upon entering she also noticed alot of individuals wearing black blazer with guns in their hands . Were they that rich that they needed bouncers? The girl thought .

She helped Jay get comfortable and brought him lunch in time . While feeding him , she decided to interrogate him personally, maybe he could provide her with some information.

(Reader): Mr. Jay, can you recount the events leading to your injury?

Jay: It was a confrontation with a rival organization. We were negotiating a business deal when things turned violent.

(Reader): Were there any specific triggers that escalated the situation?

Jay: It seemed like a premeditated ambush. They were armed and ready when we arrived at the meeting point.

(Reader): Did you have any indication of hostility prior to the encounter?

Jay: Not explicitly, but tensions have been escalating between our groups for some time.

(Reader): I see. And how did you manage to escape the altercation?

Jay: I made a split-second decision to flee when the gunfire erupted, sustaining this injury in the process.

(Reader) : and what exactly do you do if I may ask?

Jay: You'll get know soon.

He expressed making (reader) frown . Why is it not the right time? What does he do that can't be spoken casually? Her thoughts are interrupted when someone comes barging in the room.

“Jay hyung I'm glad you are alright, we are planning to make them regret their actions by acquiring their company and killing them”

Her eyes widen at the word killing that the younger individual just slipped so casually. Was she in danger? Are these criminals?

“You should really read the room and check your surroundings before you speak Niki” said Jay rather calmly .

“i know I said soon but i didn't know it would be this soon , but now you know I guess. I am Jay Park - a mafia , a criminal or whatever your vocabulary describes individuals like me, but don't be scared , we won't harm you” he said with a eeire smile

All the words went from one ear and escaped through another , all (reader) heard was that he's a mafia. Confused and terrified, she finds herself thrust into a nightmare as Jay reveals his true identity but she knew better , she needed to act smartly and calmly. She took a deep breath .

“That's none of my business Jay , although I'm glad that I'm reassured about my safety”

Despite her initial fear, she senses a vulnerability within him so she doesn't ponder further . Niki mutters an apology and quickly leaves before he gets yelled at.

“I"ll be leaving tomorrow either way” speaks yn

“No you're not” Jay replies casually as if it was supposed to be common sense

“Umm yes I am , a nurse would be replacing me tomorrow” She filled him in with the necessary information

“No you won't ever be leaving me , this is your house from now on”

Her eyes widen at the words that left his mouth but later she started laughing.

“Omg you had me there Jay , I must say . You have a great sense of humour” she stopped laughing when she noticed Jay's face remained monotonous and serious . No sign of humour could be sensed from him.

“you're joking right?” questions yn in disbelief

“Whatever you want to think but you aren't going anywhere . If you can't piece it together , I'll piece it out for you . I love you and now you are mine ”

Would reader give Jay a chance ? Or would he need a second chance?

#enhypen #kpop #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x y/n #enhypen reactions #enhypen yandere #enhypen fluff #enha #enhypen horror #yandere enhypen #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x you #enhypen jay #enhypen au #enhypen jongseong #park jongseong #jongseong imagines #jongseong #park jay #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen jay fluff #enhypen jay fanfic #enhypen jay ff #jay x reader

[ribbonprincess]

confiscating rafe's drugs, but it's a little bit more comedic

i think he'd start tweaking idk man

(may you write it though, i dont know how to make good prompts so im really trying here)

warnings: drugs (ofc),slight choking,just Rafe being a lil scary.

🍭࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

Rafe is pacing in his room when you enter,you can see his shirt clinging to his back due to his sweat as he looks frantic "rafey? what's wrong?" your boyfriend turns around immediately, looking at you with a hard glare that makes you freeze in your spot "I can't find my coke- have you taken it? I know you did,where is it?" he asks,pointing a finger at you as he comes closer with long strides.

"what- I don't know what you are talking about... why would I have your drugs anyway?" "cause you've been complaining about how I've been doing them too often,so I know you have them. Give them to me, right now." You furrow your eyebrows before shaking your head at him "no,I won't. I don't like when you take it, you've been doing it too much and you become all angry and...weird-"

Your words are cut off due to a pair of rough hands clasping your throat "you will go and take what's mine and give it back,Is that clear?" you let a small whimper escape,gripping on his wrists as tears start to gather on your lashline "don't want to... I've,I've thrown them down the toilet" you lie,knowing them well they're hiding in your room in one of your drawers under a bunch of clothes.

A small scoff escapes Rafe's mouth making you even more scared as his grip tightens on you before releasing you completely to walk over the window,showcasing a view of the whole tannyhill. "Are they at your house,in your room? hm,tell me- baby please...I need them,you know I do,they make me calm" his hands all over the place,before he harshly dug the heel of his palm in his eyes "hey- no,no...okay I'll give them back,I'm sorry." You're quick to be at his side,pulling his hands away from his face as you wipe at his eyes. "I'll give them to you,I didn't flush them down the toilet- I lied. But you gotta promise me to take a little less at least,for me?"

He looks at you through a blurry gaze before nodding "okay...yeah,okay I'll cut down some dosage. Didn't mean to lose control,I'm sorry" he says,rubbing his thumb over the red spots on your neck sure they'll bruise overnight. It's rare for Rafe to apologize especially multiple times so you just nod and bring him into a hug "it's okay,let's lay down and then we'll go to my house later,okay?" He nods at your words,pressing his forehead against your collarbone "okay...I love you doll"

#🎀princess #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks blurb #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe concepts #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron brainrot

[hikari3601]

Floral Crowns

Home page

Pairing | Al-Haitham, Cyno, Kaveh and Tighnari (separate) x Reader

Author’s Note | Try as I might, I couldn’t get this out of my head

CW/TW | Mention of death in Tighnari's part, but it's really him just being shady.

Synopsis | Making flower crowns with Sumeru’s men.

'It can't be that difficult' was his initial thought seeing as the diagrams were quite simple to understand...

Needless to say, the scribe thought very wrong.

After multiple failed attempts he eventually resumed his reading with a defeated huff, leaving you hysterically laughing, it wasn't every day you saw the aloof Haitham frustrated.

The next morning he tried again, remembering your little tips and found that it was never that deep difficult. Then again a good cup of coffee always fixed everything. Soon enough he had multiple crowns laying on the table beside him as he idly paged through some records -waiting for you to arrive.

Suffice to say, you were pretty surprised upon your arrival... Actually, that was an understatement, it shocked you out of your wits to see how pretty they were, almost as if he had years of practice under his belt.

—————

"What the actual hell?" You gaped at their perfection as you looked through the bunch, admiring the flower's unique scents and beauty.

"book learning alone cannot–" He started, smirking as he flipped the page.

"Please don't start with another lecture."

Cyno is surprisingly good at it. I mean, he'll miss a loop here and there but after a few more tries he's smiling at you like a little idiot.

It'll become sort of a thing between the two of you. Whenever you had a moment to spare, you'd find yourselves combining different varieties of flowers and when you'd meet again you would go through this little presentation -essentially trying to outdo the other. He’s just competitive like that

At the end of your little showcase, you'd exchange crowns and wear them around until they wilted.

For the record, he really loves the crowns you make. At one point, he forgot he was wearing one until he noticed none of the other Matras could keep their eyes off of his head

Flower puns ensued throughout the rest of the meeting.

—————

"I'm telling you once and floral, don't stop beleafing. Just like I rose to the occasion, you can too!"

He used to weave flower crowns when he was a kid and you can't tell me otherwise.

He eventually stopped, but after you asked him to teach you, he was pleasantly surprised to find that he still remembers the patterns and tricks.

Needless to say, this becomes something of a pastime for the two of you, when he's not swamped with work...which is rarely.

Though you love the process of making a crown every once in a while, the best part most definitely lies in seeing him wearing it.

He’d look so pretty wearing a flower crown...help.

He also adores seeing you wear his crowns he secretly incorporated your favourite flower crown in one of his designs. So don’t be surprised to find a familiar pattern on the rim of a chandelier or a decorative ceiling.

—————

“Isn’t this your model?” You questioned, examining the small cluster of Sumerian styled spires.

Without looking up the blond hummed, dosing off on the seat besides you. “I finished it this morning.”

“Wait, these facia boards—“

“I liked the pattern you made the other day, I thought it would suit the aesthetic I was going for.” He mused, “I was wondering when you were gonna notice.”

Tighnari, much like Kaveh, probably taught you how to weave the flowers, telling you facts about each of them as his fingers nimbly formed a crown at record speed.

Honestly, he'd be the type to congratulate you after your first attempt but correct you like one of his pupils don't mind his swishing tail, he's trying to act like he's not elated to be sharing an old hobby with you.

After you really got into it, he'd sometimes send you flowers whenever he travelled with a little note describing how to look after the bouquet –turn the card over and you'll find a small pressed flower attached.

He expects you to hone your skills with different flowers -to ‘master your new talent,’ in his words.

It's really an excuse for him to send you pretty flowers.

He’ll also wear the crowns you make, but unlike the rest he’ll be extremely nonchalant about it too.

Giving a lecture to some curious Academia students? The crown stays on.

Checking up on some of the plants at Pardis Dhyai? Why’d he even consider removing it?

Clearing a withering zone? The flowers withered. He returned his ears hanging low, please make him a new one.

Of course, the flowers stayed on as he scolded a group of reckless adventurers as well.

—————

Four adventurers sat before a rather livid Tighnari who, try as he might, couldn’t refrain from giving them a mouthful.

“I mean, how can you look at a random mushroom on the ground and think ‘Hey this colourful mushroom that I’ve never seen before looks particularly delicious, let me eat it!’ I understand that you can get hungry while on the road, but you can’t eat anything if you're dead. You’ll have better luck looking for a Forest Ranger! I mean really what if I didn't—“

The silence was deafening as the Chief Officer’s ears twitched in aggravation before he sighed in defeat. “At least try to not look at my ears. Yes it’s not an everyday sight and yes the colours of the flowers are vibrant… are you even listening!?”

#🍁.content book #genshin impact #genshin fic #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin x reader #genshin #genshin fluff #al haitham #alhaitham x reader #kaveh #kaveh x reader #cyno #cyno x reader #tighnari #tighnari x reader #alhaitham fluff #kaveh fluff #cyno fluff #tighnari fluff

[bangtanfanfiction]

support system → jhs (M)

Based on Hobi’s appearance at the 2022 MAMA awards bcs I’m missing him. 

M.List

♢ Pairing: Idol!Hoseok x Idol female!Reader

♢ Word count: 4.6k

♢ Genre: Idol AU, fluff, smut, comfort, established relationship     - Warnings: swearing, male oral sex, sub/dom tones, dirty talk 

⌲ Description: You’re the support system Hoseok needs in times of uncertainty without his members. And you make sure he knows it. 

not proof read. 

Hoseok felt out of place. 

He was alone where he would usually be surrounded by his six members, each with their own ways of comforting him and making it more bearable, and it was an awkward and anxious feeling alone. The only helpful part was that he wasn’t the only solo artist attending and had someone familiar to speak to.  

But other than being the 5%, the rest were all the hottest and youngest groups to grace the current K-pop industry. And where he knew most of them by name out of courtesy, it didn’t go any further than that. 

As his stomach continued to flutter, there was a moment he thought he would need to get off the stage and just take a moment to himself until he saw his saving grace. You. 

You were walking up the steps to the seating area, your tight sitting and sparkling dress with the exposed leg drawing all the attention as you were oblivious to it, concentrating on talking to a staff member explaining the seating plan as you nodded along. 

His eyes dragged down your body slowly and appreciatively, grateful for the glasses hiding his suddenly impure thoughts. 

There was no doubt you were beautiful. You always were to him. But it was the oozing confidence that you owned in your own skin. Hoseok met female idols on a daily, it came with the job, and as beautiful as all of them were with how the standards were set, you were a shining diamond among them all. 

You had always been outspoken and fearless against the restrictions of a patriarchal and man-dominated culture such as South Korea. You refused to bow down to the sneers of the general public when it came to your state of dress, body image, and the color of your natural skin without being assisted by whitening products. 

His butterflies calmed down as he straightened out his blazer and stood up, making his way surely towards you, ignoring the piercing stares of curiosity from his fellow idols, as they tried to act nonchalantly. 

It was adorable, Hoseok thought. Many of them were nearly ten years his junior either in age or as new rookies, and were rigidly reminded about the strict rules about idols of the different sex interacting. And here he was showcasing the absolute opposite with no shits to give to the higher-ups.

As if they could touch him anyway. 

Your fleeting, yet bright smile met his eyes in acknowledgment as he stopped beside you, hand finding its natural place low on your back as you turned your attention back to the conversation and he waited patiently. 

“Hey,” you finally turned to him, eyes crinkling in the corners as your attention was solely on him. 

“Hey,” Hoseok tried his best to not shut the rest of the world out as he looked down. “You look breathtaking.”

The way your nose scrunched up was the only indication you gave away of your shyness at the compliment. 

Wordlessly he led you towards the couch, as you greeted the rest of the artists already seated with polite bows along the way. With Hoseok seated on the end, you settled down beside him, thighs pressing against each other as you crossed your legs. 

His arm settled on the back of the hardened seat, close enough for his hand to brush against your bare skin on purpose. A habit he did often to simply touch you without crossing the line in public. 

You leaned into his side without fear nor shame, with your relationship public for quite a while now despite appearances together being rare, Hoseok had never been shy to showcase his love for you on Instagram with cute daily stories of your dates and dedicated posts of candid photos. 

“Babe.”

“Hm?” Hoseok’s hum was distracted as your smirk widened, eyes never straying away from watching the staff prepare last-minute details before the show started. 

“Stop staring at my boobs, there are minors here,” your words were only heard by the two of you. 

The way he huffed out a small laugh confirmed your suspicions. He couldn’t help the fact that your dress gave your bosom a generous cleavage which he had full advantage of admiring from his taller perspective with you leaning against him. 

“Minors who are old enough to understand the sight of a man admiring his significant other,” he shrugged shamelessly. “It’s not like I’m doing anything illegal.”

With those words, he took your hand in his own and lifted it to press a quick kiss against the back of it as proof. As much as you wanted to, there was no way you were able to ignore the gasps and shrieks of the audience that was watching the artist section with rapid attention. All you could do was pretend not to notice as you gave him a mock glare and light reprimanded slap against his chest. 

“You own no fear, Jung Hoseok,” you shook your head. 

“Says Miss Fuck-The-Patriarchy.”

The proud tug of your lips was poorly hidden as both of you shared a small laugh at the memories of one of your most well-known quotes from a live stream. 

“Hmm. They had it coming,” was your nonchalant answer. “When’s your performance scheduled for again?” 

“Near the end.”

“Biggest for last, huh.”

His nudge against your side made you both chuckle to yourselves. It was always your favorite pastime to tease him and the other members of their superstar status. You had done it when they first debuted in America when it still seemed like a farfetched joke. Now it had become a reality.

You had never expected anything to come out of your long-time friendship with each other. But then one day it just did. Neither of you had planned or initiated feelings first. It just naturally blossomed into something more and was readily accepted during your usual night walks together to escape the crazy life of entertainment. 

Both of you couldn’t be happier if you asked.

Fame and public scrutiny were already tiring to begin with. But with each other, there was understanding for things normal people might not have understood. So there was a comfort in being in the same industry together and not getting mad about the crazy work hours each had to endure.

“It feels weird,” Hoseok’s low mutter admitted to you as he glanced around.

“It does.” You easily agreed, a comforting hand placed on his thigh. “It’s a new era.”

“Who would have thought?” He chuckled, but you heard the sad bitterness in it. “It seemed like forever away not long ago.”

You knew his feelings didn’t come from jealousy or malicious intent. With Jin’s upcoming enlistment only days away and each of the members preparing for their own in different ways, Hoseok had felt like it was a certain goodbye. To you and his family and friends. 

You silently supported him through it. Because despite it all, this was a journey you couldn’t help him with, only being by his side whenever he needed you to. 

This is also why you made sure to attend all the same events together for extra measure. 

“At least we bring the fun,” Your lips tug up into a slight smirk.

“You mean the scandal?” He returned the look with a tilt of his brow.

“How can it be a scandal if everyone already knows, my love?” You stated, hand coming up to scrape a nail teasingly down his jaw before patting his chest as you felt him give a shiver.

“It might turn into one if you don’t stop teasing me,” He mutters as you giggle.

“Lighten up, okay?” You finally said, this time a genuine softness to your words to put him at ease. It worked, his tense shoulders easing a bit against you.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to bring down the mood today. I guess it’s just weird without the others here.”

“I get it,” Smiling you treaded your fingers through his, resting it on his lap. “They’re your family.”

“So are you.”

Although your heart swelled at his declaration, you only squeezed his hand in gratitude. “But I haven’t been with you since the beginning. That’s a deep bond you can never change.”

Hoseok sighed, nodding. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

With that, his need for intimacy and comforting touches clearly rose as the arm resting behind your shoulders tightened, pulling you even closer to him if possible. A little more and you would end up on his lap. Not that you doubted he would care. 

All the boys had come to a point in their career where they longer gave a fuck about what the public had to say about them. Fans and company included. Some of them were still strict on the privacy of their love lives, but Hoseok had caved in quite early on - his excuse being the need to show you off for everyone without shame. 

How could one say no after that?

It wasn’t until after his performance that you noticed his tension returned gradually, and you were well aware of why. The biggest awards were swept clean by BTS, with two of them being for just Hoseok himself. 

Award after award, you watched with a grin as he thanked the audience, fans, company and fellow artists for all the support. You both thought the last of it with the Artist of Year award usually closing up the show, but then were surprised yet again with a new award made just for your favorite seven boys. 

Your keen eyes noticed quickly during the last Daesang introduction that your boyfriend was getting emotional, or at least feeling the immense pressure of their status as BTS. 

That was why the moment BTS was called up as expected, you watched proudly as Hoseok took a second in his seat to take it all in before standing up. 

His eyes flickered to yours and before he chickened out from all the attention, he pulled you into an intimate hug in front of everyone, hands low on your waist as your own wrapped themselves around his neck for a short, loving moment. At the last moment, he leaned in to place a peck on the corner of your mouth before stepping away towards the main stage. 

Several eyes had widened, some squeals as well as hollers of encouragement from the younger artists. 

You continued to act as if nothing happened, trying to at least. But the flush that was spreading across your face was hardly hidden from anyone who paid attention. 

You thought that was the end of any attention on you. 

“I want to thank one more person.” 

You felt the stares burning into your skin, cameras turning as the blush came anew. 

“Where BTS and ARMY have been my mountain of support, this person has been my anchor. The one to keep me afloat whenever I felt like drowning. The one to love and support me through all my anger, stress, and sadness. But also the one to always keep me on my toes.” He added the last one with a teasing tilt as light laughter rang out. 

Your eyes were watering. Doing your damn best to keep the waterfall back as your listened to his heartfelt devotion to you. 

“Y/N, some might call us young and stupid no matter how old we are. But I know for certain you are the one for me, you have been since day 1. I love you so much, I don’t even have the right words to tell you right now. Thank you.”

Your face showed up on camera just as you blew a kiss with your hands in his direction, cheeks slightly blotchy and watering eyes, mouthing a soundless ‘I Love You’ as his grin widened. 

It felt like forever before you found yourself in Hoseok’s arms again, this behind the stage as both of you were ushered away while the encore was ongoing. You nearly bowled him over in your haste to simply touch him as he stumbled back a step before balancing himself with a low chuckle. 

“I love you so much, baby,” Your whisper was croaking with emotion just as he caught your lips into a slow, loving caress. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here.”

+

“Baby, are you hungry?” Hoseok welcomed the feeling of pure relief as he took off all his accessories and the heavy leather coat, organizing them carefully on the table and hanging up the clothing on a hanger to give it back to the styling team tomorrow. 

He had noticed your quick retreat into the bathroom, probably to scrub away all the makeup and grime which he knew was your favorite part to the end of a long day such as these.

“I can order some room service if you want to,” He continued talking, unbuckling his belt while carefully slipping off his designer shoes. “Maybe some pasta or dessert? I’m craving something sweet after that performance.”

“Yeah, I could do with some dessert.” Your reply came softly from behind him, although lacking the fervor you usually had when he suggested to get some sweets late at night.  

“Ugh, thank god, I think my body needs some sugar after today,” Hoseok laughed, turning around only to choke on it as he coughed.

Fuck. 

Shit. He must be in heaven. Or hell. 

Because you were looking like you were sent from the heavens to torture him.

A black lacy ensemble of lingerie encasing your curves must have been laced with the devil’s poison itself with how transfixed he was taking it all in.

A lace bralette softly covering your chest with a matching thong and garter belt encasing your waist. The stockings running up your legs and strapped firmly by your thighs making his throat dry as he took in the same heels you still wore from earlier. 

You were a wet dream come true. 

And you damn well knew it with the smirk on your face as you stepped towards him. “Cat got your tongue, baby?” 

“What?”

The smirk widened at his nonsense answer. His eyes never strayed from your body as he tried to imprint the image in his brain.

You were right in front of him now, fingers playing with the lapels of his now unbuttoned shirt and hanging loosely down his frame, the belt still hanging on his hips. 

“I’m still in the mood for some dessert, aren’t you?” 

“Whatever you say, baby,” His dazed muttering made you let out an airy laugh, giving him one firm push as he stumbled back a step only to meet the edge of the bed and stumbling down, elbows pushing him up to never lose sight of you. 

"Aren’t you gonna ask me what kind of dessert?” You damn well near purred, slowly creeping your way up along his body, hand teasing his expanse of exposed skin raising goosebumps along the way until your face was hovering inches above his.

“What kind of dessert?” He murmured, dark brown eyes locking with your own, flickering down to your lips. 

“My favorite kind.” 

With that you pressed a firm yet teasing kiss against his lips, leaving him to chase after you as you put a stern hand on his shoulder to push him back down before stepping off the bed and down on your knees between his spread legs. 

He had already done half the job by unbuckling the belt. Distracting him with the press of your lips against the soft surface of his stomach, his abs tensed along with the deep breaths he took before relaxing. 

Hoseok was already half hard as you palmed him, his silent groan vibrating through his whole body before pulling down his underwear for enough access to his whole cock. 

Without hesitation you started at the base, wrapping your hand around his length and rubbing him firmly as he sighed above you, fingers curling into fists by his sides. 

Keeping an eye on his face, you watched while leaning in, sucking the tip of his cock into your mouth, tongue swirling against the slit as Hoseok’s head fell back with a soft moan. Slim, large hands automatically found leverage on your head as you took him deeper, gently moving up and down as your own hands moved to palm his balls - causing his soft moans to turn into guttural groans, veins in his neck straining. 

Feeling the tenseness of his whole body you pulled away, as his eyes snapped open, neck craning to look at you, protest clear in his mouth. 

“Relax, baby” You grinned at him. “This is my gift for you, so enjoy it.”

“You’re gonna be death of me.” Hoseok huffed out a laugh, voice slightly choked as your hand never stopped moving on his length. 

“Wait,” his voice was deliciously hoarse, a darker rumble that went straight down to your own throbbing pussy. You watched fondly as he stretched backward to grab the closest hotel pillow and handed it to you. 

He had barely settled back on the bed before you gripped him tighter, tongue already making a path down his veins and swallowing him deeper without preparation. 

Hoseok nearly lurched up, fingers digging into your scalp with a hissed curse.  

“Jesus Fuck, Y/N.” His moan of your name did ridiculous to your body, eagerness to please your hardworking boyfriend increasing until his knees were shaking. 

Bobbing your head, you sucked enthusiastically, following the motions of his own hands whether he noticed it or not.

Hoseok had somehow managed to push himself up into a sitting position, the need to watch you closer as you pleased him controlling his body. 

Your intentions had been obvious to him early on. You wanted to spoil him to completion, but at the same time torturing his senses through the journey - just because he knew you could. He had learned fairly quick in the relationship that you had a thing for seeing him come apart beneath your touch, controlling his pleasure and seeing him beg you to let him come. 

His half-lidded gaze never left the perfect-picture vision of your pretty pink lips around his cock, swollen and drool dribbling down the corner of your mouth as you moaned softly to his harsh pants, eyes fluttering shut. The vibrations of it sent tingles down his legs and spine, coaxing another moan from him. 

“You’re so fucking good, baby.” Hoseok managed to breathe out. Praise only spurring you on if that was possible. 

The love of his life was sucking his cock like it was the best damn lollipop in town, and the sight of it would always be one of the most arousing scenes he would ever see. 

He was pretty certain he could die in this position without regrets. 

“That’s it.” Murmuring he eased his hold on your hair, the other supporting him on the bed, fingers curling into the sheet as he watched you spellbound. 

Shit, you were loving it between his legs. Sounding and looking like Hoseok was already pounding your brains out. He was basically yours to own at the moment.  

“Spell your fucking name on it.”

Your broken moans at his words caused a knowing smirk to play at his lips for a single moment until he nearly fell apart again the very next, eyes falling shut at the mindblowing sensations your tongue could give him. 

You hummed, deep in your throat, drawing the most panth-worthy moans from Hoseok’s lips, his usual decorum of trying to keep it down evaporating. His moans were some of your favorite sounds in the world - going from soft high pitches whenever he got close before falling back down to the low tones as he tried to catch his breath. 

His thighs tensed, fingers gripping the strands of your hair nearly frighteningly tight with a mutter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m-I’m gonna cum–”

Hoseok knew you had heard him. His moans turned desperate, breaking up into near frantic stutters as he got closer to his high, just for you to pull back slowly with a pop - a knowing, almost vindictive smile on your face. 

“Baby!” If you didn’t know better, you would almost say that was a sob coming from him as you left him high and dry. 

Your cunt was throbbing almost painfully at this point, craving any touch for relief, but you held it back for favoring your boyfriend’s pleasure. 

“Patience, my love,” You murmured as your rose up, gently pushing him back down on the bed as you pulled off his underwear and pants off, kicking them to the side, leaving only the open shirt on his otherwise sweating, naked body. 

And what a glorious body that was. 

Lean and tan with smooth expanses of skin you wanted to lick all over, the lines of a dancer’s firm muscles lining every part of him. 

Fuck, Jung Hoseok was fucking delicious, and all yours. 

Making sure that he was watching, you slipped off the thong down your legs, watching as his throat bobbed in anticipation. You left the bralette on and the strategically worn garter and stockings to not be in the way of your underwear. 

Easily taking off your heels too, you crawled over his body on all fours, settling just on his slim hips and giving a teasing roll of your own, his bare cock sliding against the evident arousal of your own as he gave a breathy curse. 

“You’re so wet, baby,” Hoseok said almost fascinated, despite your years together. And he supposed he wasn’t wrong. You were going a bit wild tonight compared to the usual sex the two of you had. 

“All because of you,” Leaning forward again, you kissed him softly, but Hoseok was done playing nice and giving into your demands.

His hand curled around the back of your neck, forcing you completely down against his chest, bodies lining up against each other, mouth licking into your own harshly, catching your breath with a sigh. 

Your hips had a mind of their own at this point, slowly grinding against his hard cock, covering his length with your wetness as Hoseok moaned, the sound caught by your lips as you gave a firmer roll. 

Wordlessly reaching down between your bodies, you gripped his length in your hand lining him up and slowly pushed down with a breathy moan, his fingers digging into your hips as you both shuddered when he bottomed out. His whole body trembled in near relief, and you knew he wasn’t going to last long with the amount of teasing you had already put him through. 

“Fuuuuck…”

Your nerves felt like they were on fire. Every single movement sending zips of bliss through you as you breathed in deeply to take control of your sanity. With a loving smile, you firmly placed both hands on Hoseok’s chest for support before lifting your hips only to slam them down with a shuddering moan. 

Hoseok was sure he was going to come within the next five seconds with the way you were moving your hips above him, obviously trying your damn best to send him into oblivion. 

The sound of your wet cunt was almost obnoxious, squelching for every single lift and drop of your thighs. Through his pleasure glazed haze, he could see the inside of your delicious thighs glistening with the evidence. 

He thought he already knew of the best feelings in the world; the adrenalin before getting on stage, hearing his fans scream his name or sing to their songs as he basked in their cheers. 

But his personal, and secret favorite would always be the complete bliss that spread through his entire body from your pussy clenching down on him.    

You were getting tired, Hoseok noticed. Your rhythm slowing and pleasure tenfolding as you started to grind down with airy moans, trying to find relief for your throbbing clit. 

Despite being rock hard and ready to burst, he couldn’t help but coo at you as he pulled you back down against his chest. “Is my princess getting tired?”

You whimpered, fingers traveling up to grip his hair, your grinding starting to loose its control. 

Tracing a hand down your sweating back, he gripped your ass with a rough tug, pushing his cock further against your walls as your breath hitched. 

“What do you want, baby?” He whispered into your ear, giving it a nip and soothing it with his tongue. “Use your words, princess.”

“Please fuck me, Hoseok,” It was your turn to beg now. “I need you to fuck me. Make me cum on your cock, please.”

Just your words were ready to end him. 

With an almost chaste kiss against your temple, an opposite action to what the two of you were doing, he granted your wish. Changing his position, he put both feet on the bed for support and then he truly fucked you. 

Nearly pistoning upwards to meet your shallow thrusts, with your high pitched moans and nails raking down his arms spurring him on like a madman chasing after gold. 

His moans mixed with your own, both craving release at this point, your skin slapping against each other without abandon. With half a mind, Hoseok managed to push his hand between your sweat slicked bodies, long fingers finding your soft, swollen clit as he circled the sensitive nub. 

You came with a silent scream, mouth open and body tensing like a log, the pleasure zipping through you like fucking lightning, toes curling as your pussy clenched down so hard, he followed you shortly with a muffled groan against the curve of your neck. 

His fingers didn’t stop, only slowing down and gently guiding you through your high. 

Just as the sensitivity was starting to kick in, his cock still firmly nestled inside you throughly emptied, you whined at him. 

“Too much,” Your voice was a hoarse whimper, trying to swat at his still moving hand. 

But his next stern words grunted out, made your throat dry. 

“I’m not done with you yet.”

“I-I can’t,” You whispered, but voice shaking in anticipation.

“Yes, you can. One more, sweetheart. Just for me.”

“Baby, I-” 

Whatever it was you wanted to say cut off with a sob as his fingers sped back up from their gentleness, pressing down more firmly on your clit as your hold on him turned damn near painful.

“Come on, just one more.”

What was supposed to be him falling apart had now turned - Hoseok having you at his mercy as his movements didn’t stop. 

Despite your begging, you could feel it again. That addicting pleasure building within you as your resistance turned into compliance, hips starting to move again, grinding against his touch. Your orgasm came slowly this time around, heat coating your senses like a caress - with you almost sobbing softly as your high came, body trembling and twitching as his fingers finally stopped. 

Neither knew how many minutes you simply lay in each others arms in silence. Soaking each other in, his soft cock still inside you as your skin cooled down to the point of goosebumps as the air was no longer stuffy. 

“We need to shower,” Hoseok whispered gently, hands slowly caressing up and down your spine lovingly. 

“Just a little longer…”

Chuckling at your drowsiness, you managed to lift your head up from his shoulder only to grin. “I love you.”

His eyes were sparkling. “I love you too.”

This has been in the drafts since last year. So yeah. 

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #jung hoseok #jhope #bts jhope #hoseok imagine #jhope onshot #bts idol au #jhope idol au #bts x reader #bts smut #jung hoseok smut #kpop smut #bts fluff #jhope fluff #jhope smut #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #bangtanfanfiction

[dreamsinarcadia]

Pillow Talk

In which Son Heungmin can’t seem to let his girlfriend wiggle her way out of his arms

pairing: sonny x gf!reader

warning: tooth ache kind of fluff with mentions of smut

She loved her boyfriend—she really did. He had her whole heart in the palm of his hands and she trusted him with it; trusted him not to squeeze too hard on it—not to shatter it into fragments of love.

And she was certain that the feeling was mutual—he'd told her so himself, proclaimed it with eyes that were practically shaped into hearts as he gazed at her with a heart achingly deep sense of adoration; one that never failed to make her feel so unbelievably loved.

However... she’d be lying if she said he couldn't get a little frustrating sometimes. Like now, for instance.

“Heungmin, move.”

“No.” His response was instantaneous and very much final.

“I need to get up.”

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

His sass had one of her brows arch up, and she was sure she would've crossed her arms too had he not restricted her movement with his own—much stronger, might she add—limb. The man knew that her work schedule had been cleared for the entirety of December, and was determined to take this rare opportunity by the reigns.

Her lips parted—very much ready to have a go at him for the unwarranted attitude—when, instead of actual words, a light gasp left them; practically inaudible from how soft it was, but that didn't make what happened any less surprising.

His lips had found their way onto her neck, pressing soft, gentle kisses across the exposed area with an occasional—and very intoxicating—nip here and there. His arm, banded securely around her hip, pulled her closer to his side. The heat of it all practically flooded her vision with pink and she almost melted right in that very moment.

"Just a little longer," he muttered into her skin, lips making contact with the already hickey littered surface in a repeated pattern that shot tingles straight down her spine, "a month away from you was torture."

Work had forced her to return to Seoul for a good portion of November. She had, of course, missed Heungmin a great deal, but hadn’t been aware of how much he’d missed her until she had stepped past his threshold tonight only to be swept off her feet.

She genuinely couldn’t remember if he’d even managed to close the front door.

His hand slipped under her thin cotton t-shirt; cool palm resting against the flat of her stomach as he whispered sweet nothings into her ears in hopes of saving himself from a lecture–and she was afraid that it was very much working.

She was an absolute sucker for sweet moments like this.

But she was also recovering from a strenuous night, barely having gotten any sleep between multiple rounds of heaven sent pleasure. The man had been positively insatiable upon her return, and though this delighted her to no end, she was slick with sweat, peppered with hickeys, her legs felt like jelly and she wanted nothing more than a warm shower. The saccharine scent of sex was strong, and the air around them was stiflingly thick, despite the air conditioning being on full blast.

“Heungmin.”

“Hm?” His head tilted up, gaze focused on her with a sense of endearment only she was privy to receiving from him; the twitch of his lips showcasing his lovestruck smile in a show of vulnerability that, once again, only she had the pleasure of seeing on him.

His gaze was softened and practically swirling with that domestic love she knew he held for her; the one that would instantly ease all his muscles and have him actively seek her out just to hold her in his arms, to love on her like he always claimed she deserved.

When she didn't respond immediately, his grip tightened and he pulled her further into his side; to fit against him like she was meant to be there, like he was incomplete without her—and her, without him.

Ah, she was so stupidly weak to him when he got like this. Her hand reached up to brush cool fingers soothingly on the apple of his cheek.

“Aren’t you tired?” A valid question, seeing as though the man had only a few hours of rest between his match and her return.

“With you in my arms? Never.” His voice was soothingly calm, but when he propped an elbow on the pillow to look down at her, his eyes were blazing, pinning her to the spot. It raked over her appearance - the mussed hair, the love bites adorning the delicate curve of her neck, the rise and fall of her chest, the adorable flush of pink on her cheeks. The corner of his lips stretched to a wide grin.

When her hand dropped from his face, he was quick to catch it and press a kiss to her palm. He held it close to his heart. “Why?” He asked, knowing damn well the answer. “Are you tired?”

“…maybe.”

“Oh no! Rough night?”

She had to fight the urge to kiss the damn smirk off his face. He looked so damn pleased with himself.

“…okay fine, we can stay here a little longer.”

And then he was kissing her, his hands moving quickly to hook her legs around his waist and move her underneath himself. And suddenly, her arms and legs didn’t feel like jelly anymore. Instead, she’d felt as electrified—as if struck by lightning…only better. Much, much better. Because she couldn’t wrap her arms around lightning, or feel lightning’s heart skip against her own.

“Not for too long, we’ve been in bed for hours,” she protested weakly into the increasingly heated kiss. “I’m melting.”

“Mmm.”

“We have to eat.”

He pulled away to grin at her, a mischievous twinkle alight in his eyes. “Great idea,” he said. “Let’s do just that.”

Just when she was about to open her mouth to steer him clear of the inevitable course of action, he’d lunged straight for her neck to attack her with another fit of adoring kisses—ones that made her sigh in what she could only describe as contentment.

And then her t-shirt was back on the floor.

They didn’t leave the room till sundown.

#son heungmin #heungmin son #heung min son #son heung min #footballer x reader #son heung min fanfic #son heung min fic #son heung min fluff #son heung min imagine #son heung min one shot #son heung min scenario #son heung min x you #son heung min x reader #son heung min drabble #footballer x y/n #footballer imagine

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

002

Pairing : Miguel O' Hara X Reader

Genre : fluff, tiniest twinge of angst

Summary : Miguel's not very happy when he finds out you've walked home by yourself last night(morning)?

Wordcount: 1.3k

[ A/N: Here's pt.2 : D. I've decided I'm making this a little connected one shots book.]

Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

" You didn't text me when you got home last night." Miguel suddenly spoke, breaking the comfortable silence that was between the two of you.

Yesterday, you had been taking care of him as he was sick, pampering him a little extra because he deserves it. The two of you had eventually fallen asleep, with you waking up around 3 in the morning and heading back home.

You look up from where you're seated on his desk chair, having been busy playing Good Pizza, Great Pizza on your phone. His back is turned to you, eyes focused on the different screens showcasing the Spiderverse and whatever else.

" Oh, uh, yeah. I must've forgotten. I was so tired, my head went straight for my pillow once I got home." You shrug.

He hums in understanding, although he's a little curious. Who dropped you off last night? He's made it very clear before that he doesn't want you to walk home by yourself at the ungodly hours, no matter how short the walk to your house is. You're the last person he has in his universe (and outside of it, for that matter.) The only person who knows him better than anyone. He'd be damned if something were to happen to you. The thought of it already sets him on edge.

" Who brought you home?"

" Oh, uh, I did-"

" What?" Now he turns to look at you, a displeased look in his eyes.

" What? Everyone was asleep." You shrug.

You turn to look at your phone again, wanting to avoid the look in his eyes. He whisks the device from your grip as you do so, setting it aside on his desk. It's still whitin your reach. When you look up at him again, he's got his arms crossed, a strict look his face.

" I hope you know that I would've thrown whatever's in my reach if you were any of the other spiders. " He points out.

You roll your eyes.

" What, you give them bedtimes too? I can take care of myself. You've taught me enough self defense by now. I know how to handle myself." You huff.

He's aware how you dislike with how careful he's often being.

" I know you can, but you also know why I'm so careful with you. Just wake me up next time you're leaving early in the morning."

" While you're sick? No. Besides, you're barely resting as it is, I'm not waking you the rare times you're asleep." You point out.

You get up from his desk chair, stepping closer to him as you unfold his arms, taking one of his hands in yours.

" Stop worrying about me so much. I'm fine. Take a little more care of yourself maybe though. For me?" You ask him.

He sighs, eyes showcasing emotions he usually hides.

" Just stay over if you don't want to wake me up. We fall asleep together anyway, We can wake up together too."

He's not looking you in the eyes as he speaks, eyes on your joined hands, admiring the size difference. You're not looking at his face either, understanding how he feels. He's glad you're not looking at him, his cheeks having gotten the faintest of pink. It scares him how much he likes the idea of waking up with you.

" I guess we can do that. If it makes you feel better." You hum.

A flash of surprise passes through his eyes, but it's not caught by you. It's not everyday your crush says yes.

However, your sweet moment is broken up when the sound of the door is heard, and so Miguel steps away from you. You give him a small smile before picking up your phone again.

" Oh, Hey Y/N. Since when are you here?" Jessica asks as she steps in the room.

" Uhh, a while? No idea. Speaking of time, I gotta go. My shift starts soon." You say, suddenly realizing the time.

Miguel wordlessly lets the platform go down, but you don't have the patience to deal with that.

" Don't jum-" He sighs as you do so anyway, landing with a loud slam on your knees.

This isn't the first time you've done this, and most probably not the last.

" I don't have the patience for that wacky thing. Anyway, see you around. Maybe I'll be back later, maybe not. Bye!" You tell him with a smile, turning to the exit.

You greet Jessica on your way out, giving her a quick hug before finally leaving.

Jessica looks after your form as you leave, before turning to Miguel with a knowing smile. Miguel ignores the look in her face, instead getting straight down to business.

" How'd it go?" He asks her.

" Well, the anomaly is caught. He's stuck with the other anomalies downstairs. " She tells him.

He nods, turning around to face the screen again.

" Good." 

She knows it's his way if dismissing her.

" Soo, you and Y/N?" She asks suddenly.

Miguel doesn't even glance at her as he responds.

" What about it?" 

" Your feelings for her are pretty obvious. You should ask her out." She suggests.

He glances at her with a sigh.

" Not obvious enough for her to notice." He murmurs in response.

She still heard it either way.

" That's only because she's in love with you too. You should ask her out. She's a lovely woman." 

" No. I can't treat her the way she deserves. She deserves better than me." 

" Maybe. But I doubt she wants anyone else. Just think about it a little more. Y/N is sweet, if you don't make up your mind soon, there's a good chance someone else will ask her eventually. " She points out.

" Yeah, well, we'll see about that." 

He's aware he's close with you. Too close. No one would appreciate having a girlfriend who's got a best friend who's constantly at her heel.

The sound of the door opening suddenly sounds again, and you suddenly come running back in.

" Hey, sorry, forgot my jacket." You puff out.

Miguel turns to you right away. He glances at his desk chair, where your jacket is indeed still hanging on it's back. He picks it up wordlessly to throw it at you. 

You catch it.

" Thanks!" You call again, before leaving.

A teeny tiny smile graces his lips at your behavior. God, he's smitten for you.

" How do the youngsters refer to you again? I think it was whipped. You are 'whipped' Miguel." Jessica smiles.

Miguel barely huffs at her, instead turning around and pushing a button for the platform to go up again.

" Sure. Do you have something better to do or should I see if there's something to do for you here in the building?" He suggests as he goes up.

" No, I'm good. Say hi to Y/N when she comes back in a few hours." She laughs as she heads out.

Miguel shakes his head, putting it in his hands for a moment before finishing back on the task at hand.

' My feelings aren't obvious.'

003

Taglist;

@adamsloverboy

#idkeitherman #miguel o' hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman across the spider verse #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara one shot

[shinidamachu]

kagome higurashi, occupation: it girl

We're constantly talking about what a fashion icon Kagome is, but I haven't seen many actual analyses of her style or how it got translated from the manga to the anime, so I thought it was a fun, innocuous discussion to have this @inuvember. I'm not an expert on the subject by any means, but here's a compilation of my observations.

The first thing I noticed is probably the most obvious: she thoroughly enjoys showing off her legs, which she does by wearing an obscene amount of skirts, rarely jeans and never shorts, not even as a PJ.

The interesting detail is that she mostly pairs them off with a top that would completely cover her arms and shoulders, which is smart because puts her legs even more in evidence and brings an elegant balance to it. Sundresses seem to be the only exception to that rule:

Now, when it comes to prints, the anime left me the impression that she favors solid blocks of colors rather than especific patterns, but comparing to the manga it's easy to see that's just not true.

Not only does Kagome rock any print she wears, she also seems to have a preference for plaid variations.

Sadly we only got to see in the anime through the sundress above and the iconic Day of Days outfit (the high school uniform doesn't really count).

She likes her flowery patterns as well, although that's only really a thing in the manga. Of course, I understand Sunrise probably toned down this aspect of her clothing choices to make them easier to animate, but we can still mourn it.

The next one is particularly sad to me because it was one of my all time favorite manga outfit of hers and they replaced it with one she had used before in The Soul Piper and the Mischievous Little Soul.

The same outfit was recycled again in Sota’s Brave Confession of Love. It was literally copy and past, except for the colors.

And to add insult to injury, this was the original look:

Another thing that was pointed out by @kagomehigurashi in this amazing post is that her "stay at home" clothes are incredibly versatile: she can go from very fashionable sweaters to her fun SHAM shirt collection just like that. But when she goes out, she goes all out.

Overall, I think we can conclude that her wardrobe was pretty colorful. Especially in the anime, there's not a lot of black, if any, and Kagome tends to go for pastel. She also seems to be a big fan of overlaying: her outfits are often completed with cardigans, coats or jackets.

Plus, I'd say comfort is a priority for her. The vast majority of her clothes don't seem restricting at all and her shoes consist basically on loafers, sneakers and ballet flats. Even the heel we saw her wear once was of a wedge type.

She rarely uses accessories, but she limits herself to one or two when she does. It's usually a purse and some jewelry or belt (at least in the manga). Her hair is always down except for the occasional braid (also only in the manga), PE ponytail and bath bun.

It could have been interesting if Takahashi had also used Kagome's fashion sense to showcase how much she changed during her journey, but Kagome's style remained extremely consistent. I guess she found it very early on what she was about. I'd describe it as romantic boho, but I don't even know if that's a thing.

What I do know is that it was far from basic, that she appeared to be having a lot of fun expressing herself throught it and that it felt more mature in the manga, even if most of them are just covers or bonus art.

#Inuvember #Inuvember 2023 #Inuyasha #Kagome #Kagome Higurashi #I think Kagome has very similar taste to Lara Jean Covey #I wish there was a Kagome doll with all of her manga clotes so we could buy it and play dress up like the Barbie she is #Sidposting

[silaswritesthings]

What kind of name is ‘Hat guy’?

Summary: You’re stressing over exams and Hat guy offers his assistance. There’s small banter here and there.

Starring: Wanderer/Scaramouche/Hat guy (whatever you prefer)

Genre: I hate college (this should be a genre), fluff

Warnings: Edited ONCE (I have an exam on Thursday 🧍‍♀️)

Author’s note: I’m alive. I haven’t posted in ages and I just needed to write something so I sat down and wrote 800 words in two hours when I can’t finish a 2k word essay for school in two weeks… (The curse of creativity.) Another thing, if you wish ti send asks please do so! I’ve run out of creative juices and well that’s it. I won’t guarantee masterpieces because well… college and all, but i’ll try my best to answer all of them because my brain is drying up and I need inspiration! likes, comments, reblogs and new followers will always be appreciated!

Word count: Roughly 800 words

It’s not enough.

It’s never enough.

You leaned against the tree behind you, the wind flicking your research papers in every direction as you stared hopelessly at the grass.

It had been a month since you had started your recent semester and with a big exam coming up, at first, you were prepared for it mentally. How hard could it be? So many people have been able to keep up with the academia’s standards and you rarely hear people complain about being unable to keep up with their work but archons, this was hard…

“I truly am incapable.” You mumbled to yourself.

“You are.” A voice tuned in from right beside you. In a moment of panic, you glanced to the side only to come face to face with a familiar pair of feet.

What? There was nothing odd about being acquainted with Hat Guy’s feet- well, to be more specific, his shoes. Most people in your class had already been subjected to being under said shoes many times. The man in question described it to you as a showcase of his superiority.

In all honesty, his research papers were enough to make the sages sweat so what other show of superiority would he need beyond that?

You’ve never had the courage to ask. You’ve never had the courage to approach him about anything, which was odd considering how often you two spoke with each other. Every conversation begun with him. At times he’d prod and poke at you as a way of getting more than just affirmative phrases, such as ‘mhm’, ‘yes’ and ‘I agree’, from you. It was quite endearing.

That is a lie.

It was very endearing, but now was not the time to dwell on that.

The hat guy, you used to call him ‘Wanderer’ because you were sane unlike everyone else who could call him ‘hat guy’ without a glimmer of hesitation. What kind of name is ’Hat guy’ anyway? Despite this, you never failed to notice the way his gaze would soften whenever he was addressed by that name. Was he insane too? Was this insanity contagious? It seemed so, because whenever you used his odd name he would smile. It was barely there but it was not something you could miss.

The rustling of papers gave you the motivation to glance up at him, and would you look at that. He was watching you with bemusement, as if you tried to convince him that he was made out of cotton wool or something.

“Even a child knows not to allow their work to be blown away so carelessly by the wind.” He spoke as he organised your notes. The wind that caused your papers to struggle in his hold made his hair dance atop his head and over his forehead.

“Unfortunately that topic isn’t in my exam syllabus.”

He scoffed before taking a seat beside you and handing you your notes. Wordlessly, you took the papers and filed them away in your folder.

“It’s not very clear.”

You blinked in surprise before turning to look at Wanderer (You’d use that name just this once…) who had his gaze fixed on the cloud-filled sky. “What?”

“Your research design. It needs to be revised a bit, especially the part concerning your data analytics.” His eyes turned to you, leaving you thoughtless.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” You both looked ahead of you at the same time, silence settling between you as the wind blew around you, picking up leaves as it went by.

Hat guy sighed. “You’re much harder to talk to than me, and that’s saying a lot since I actively avoid people.”

“I’m not very good at starting conversations.”

“You’re not good at maintaining them either.”

“I’ve heard.”

Your gaze remained on the sky, it was grey. Bleak. Depressing.

Should cloudy days come with a trigger warning for academics?

During your internal struggle, Hat guy’s gaze had shifted to yours and you were so lost in your own world that he should have found it pathetic. Oh but he did, the problem was he wished your thoughts lingered on him instead.

He frowned as he gazed to the side and cleared his throat. This caught your attention but when you looked at him, his face was hidden from your view when he spoke. “I could help you with your work, if you’d like.”

Your eyes widened. “Why?”

The wind was relentless as it continued to blow, his hair dancing with the breeze as the corner of his lips shifted upwards a bit.

“I like to show off.”

You smiled. You were still upset about your shortcomings but having someone be there for you for this one moment made the weight on your shoulders drift away with the wind.

Why was the wind so persistent today anyways?

#silaswritesthings #silas #genshin impact #genshin x you #wanderer x reader #anemo supremacy #genshin fluff #genshin wanderer #please don’t flop #wanderer fluff #genshin impact wanderer #wanderer x you #wanderer genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche is a little shit #scaramouche my beloved #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche

[charlesslut16]

-Christmas shopping-

summary : you and max go shopping fo your shared, united, family...

PAIRING : max verstappen x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : i hope you like this... And i love this cute pic of max as a baby

december masterlist ; masterlist 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Max Verstappen and his wife, you, were relishing a rare break from the whirlwind of Formula 1. The winter streets of their Dutch hometown were adorned with twinkling lights, festive melodies floated through the air, and the scent of mulled wine and cinnamon wafted around them.

Your mission today was simple yet joyous: to gather gifts for your little nieces and nephews, their parents, and each other. With a list in hand and hearts brimming with holiday cheer, you set off on foot, preferring to immerse yourselves in the cozy atmosphere rather than rush through the shopping spree.

Your first stop was a quaint toy store that sparkled with enchantment. Max's eyes lit up as he spotted miniature race cars lined up neatly on the shelves. He chuckled, imagining the delight on the children's faces. You, with your infectious laughter, gravitated toward a shelf of stuffed animals.

You picked up a fluffy bunny, envisioning her youngest niece cuddling it on Christmas morning.

As you strolled along, the chilly December breeze played with your scarf, and Max teased you about wrapping up like you were heading to the Arctic.

They laughed, their breath forming misty clouds in the crisp air.

Passing by a confectionery, you couldn't resist popping in to select boxes of chocolates and candies, knowing they would be perfect stocking stuffers.

Your next destination was a boutique for your family. You wanted to find something elegant for your mom and a thoughtful gift for your dad. Max, being the attentive partner he was, suggested a beautiful necklace he knew your mom had admired once.

For your dad, max found a vintage watch that resonated with his love for classic craftsmanship.

As the both of you moved through the streets, the spirit of giving seemed to infuse every moment. You encountered a street market bustling with local artisans, showcasing handmade crafts and artisanal goods.

Max and his wife, you, delighted in picking out handmade ornaments for their own Christmas tree and unique, handcrafted items for their siblings.

The afternoon sun began to wane, casting a golden glow over the town. Max and you stopped by a cozy café, sipping hot cocoa as you admired their purchases. You exchanged anecdotes, reminiscing about past holidays and your own childhood Christmas memories.

Your final stop was a bookstore where Max indulged in selecting adventurous tales for his nephews while you carefully picked out illustrated storybooks for her nieces.

You both knew the power of a good story and were excited to share these magical worlds with the children you adored.

Loaded with bags brimming with carefully chosen gifts, the both of them made their way back home, the sky now adorned with stars.

Walking hand in hand, you felt the warmth of the holiday season enveloping you. Their hearts were full, not just from the treasures you held, but from the shared moments of laughter, love, and togetherness—a true reflection of the spirit of Christmas.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fluff #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen x you #christmas #masterlist

[sapphicromanoffxo]

Branding You | n.r x w.m

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Word count: 4.4k+

Warnings: Ghostface stalker!Nat, attempted assault (not from either Nat or Wanda), strap on use, mention of knife (I kinda don't know how to write a knife play yet so it's not here), praise kink, degradation, oral sex

Summary: Wanda is haunted by an elusive scent with an unknown origin. A chance encounter with a red-haired stranger, who bears the same fragrance, intertwines their destinies in a romantic yet dangerous twist of fate.

╰┈➤ Masterlist

The haunting power of scent, some claim, possesses the ability to transport us to distant memories or familiar individuals. It's not just the singular aroma of a perfume, but a blend of fragrances that make it unique and special.

For Wanda, though, identifying the exact origin or source of the scent she encounters everywhere proves challenging. It's a curious mix of vanilla, lavender, and an acrid tang of cigarette smoke; sometimes the aroma of coffee comes into the mix every now and then. Although the components seem to change every time, the lingering essence of vanilla and smoke remains constant.

Perhaps it's the vanilla and coffee used in her favorite cafe, which gives her the essence of warmth and sweetness with a twinge of bitterness, or the frequent whiff of lavender from the nearby flower shop that gives off the feeling of tranquillity and calmness. But where does the hint of smoke fit in? She concludes that it may be from the bustling streets of New York, where she passes by people engaged in a bad habit that pollutes the air.

The smell of smoke is an unwelcome element of the mixture for Wanda. She is never a fan of smoking because she thinks it's a form of silent suicide. But this certain scent has intertwined itself in her life and she has no way of eliminating it. Her mind is overwhelmed, trying to decipher this daily aroma. It has become the first thing that greets her upon opening her apartment door, enveloping her in a sensation that connects her to a place she's never visited, a person she's never known and a mystery that is yet to be discovered.

Wanda's routine visit to the nearby cafe for her go-to morning coffee turned significant one day. Engrossed in her phone while queuing up, she suddenly caught a lingering scent that had haunted her senses for weeks. Momentarily distracted, she scanned the cafe, not in search of anything specific. What caught her eye was the back of a figure heading towards the exit. The woman, clad entirely in black attire with a leather jacket and likely donning Doc Martens, showcased striking red hair swaying with every step. Wanda found herself inexplicably drawn to observe the woman until she vanished through the cafe's door. Intrigued by this unexpected captivation, Wanda couldn't help but ponder how someone could instantly command her attention, only to fade from her thoughts moments later.

Wanda has been consumed by thoughts of the redheaded woman for weeks. It's the first time someone has piqued her interest so quickly, even without any interaction. She yearns for just a glimpse of the woman's face or a hint of her profile. Wanda constantly scans her surroundings, hoping to catch sight of her again, but each day passes fruitlessly without finding her. She sighs and tries to move on with life, feeling a void she can't seem to fill.

On a rare occasion, Wanda found herself at a club in the wee hours, indulging in alcoholic drinks. In the midst of the dancefloor, she let herself go, dancing freely, a side her friends hadn't seen before. Encouraged by their shock and amusement, Wanda unveiled her hidden wild side. Normally an introvert, she recently sought to explore life's offerings, both good and bad.

Amidst the endless shots and the alcohol coursing through her, she surrendered herself further into music, her pulse racing with each beat. Unbeknownst to her, an unknown figure observed her every move, silently watching and ready to pounce at any minute.

As the alcohol's effects faded, leaving Wanda and her friends a bit dizzy, they chose to end the night. Their designated driver dropped them off one by one, with Wanda being the third. She asked to be let off at the corner of the block, a three minute walk or so to her apartment, to avoid the hassle of driving back to the main road.

It was 3:40 AM when Wanda found herself wandering through the dimly lit street. Although nothing seemed suspicious, she noticed an unknown person following her. Sensing a lurking presence through an instinctive feeling, she bravely turned around to check, but found no one behind her except herself. Despite this, her nerves remained on edge, her heart racing erratically. With hurried steps, she pressed on, eager to reach the safety of her apartment's confines.

The air held a slight chill, yet she couldn't discern if the shivers wracking her body stemmed from the cold or the persistent anxiety since her friends dropped her off. Suddenly, someone lunged at her, causing her to stumble back and fall to the ground, unleashing a scream into the open air.

Wanda's mind raced in multiple directions, torn between staying on the ground or darting out onto the street to scream for help. Knowing she had to act before the situation escalated, she scrambled to her feet, but the assailant seized her left foot, halting her escape. Reacting instinctively, Wanda used her right leg to kick, but the person seemed unfazed by the force. As the struggle ensued, the assailant maintained a grip on her feet, contorting her body in an uncomfortable manner, rendering escape impossible.

"Hey!" A voice echoed through the street, causing both Wanda and the assailant to turn toward the newcomer. But from that moment onward, Wanda's vision blurred, possibly due to the lingering alcohol or the rush of adrenaline from her terrifying situation.

Amid her hazy sight, she discerned two figures, their struggle punctuated by grunts and the sound of blows exchanged. One body slammed forcefully onto the ground, accompanied by the unmistakable crack of a bone. The assailant ended up face-first, sporting a busted nose and bloody lips.

Shock finally caught up with Wanda as she crawled backward, trying to process the bewildering scene before her. Her attention shifted to the person subduing the attacker, hearing them speak. "Do you know stalking a woman in the dark is a bad thing?"

Suddenly, Wanda was struck by a realisation that jolted her senses. Her rescuer, she noticed in an instant, was a redhead. The odds of encountering the very person she had been searching for over weeks seemed improbable. She's quite positive that she is the same redhead that she saw at the cafe. Bathed in the ray of the street lights, the woman's silhouette possessed a captivating allure that ignited Wanda's imagination.

Clad in a red leather jacket, black ripped jeans, and Doc Marten boots, the woman exuded a striking presence, her attire accentuating her already imposing height. Wanda's gaze fixated on her side profile, every contour an embodiment of artistry. The woman's cheekbones seemed meticulously sculpted by the most masterful hands ever to grace the earth.

Her nose, a delicate bridge leading to lips with a plushness that spoke of stories untold, seamlessly merged in a mesmerizing way. Wanda's silent admiration was abruptly interrupted by the woman's voice. "Hey. Are you alright? You seem to be in shock. Can you stand up for me?"

Wanda gazed at the offered hand and grasped it, allowing the stranger to assist her in standing up. "Y-yes. I'm okay," she stammered, cringing inwardly at her clumsy response. Her mind seemed to falter, overwhelmed by the reality of facing this remarkable woman who had fearlessly leaped in to aid her.

"He's unconscious now. I need to call 911, report this incident, and have him put to jail," the woman stated, her voice carrying a deep, husky timbre that resonated within Wanda. She found herself nodding dumbly at each word uttered by her rescuer. In a whirlwind of emotions, she felt a surge of confusion, wondering if she had hit her head during the altercation, but she reasoned that her erratic behavior might stem from the recent attack and the effects of alcohol. Her thoughts whirled in disarray, shifting from fear of her attacker to a sense of elation brought on by her savior.

Minutes passed in a hazy blur as Wanda witnessed the arrival of the cops, their questions a jumble she struggled to comprehend. The redhead intervened, explaining the situation on her behalf. As the interrogation concluded and the assailant was cuffed, the officers departed, offering a ride home, which the redhead politely declined, citing that they were near their apartment. Wanda didn't even notice what had been said, didn't even wonder how the woman could have guessed that.

Alone at last, the woman spoke again. "Are you ready to go home? I'll walk you there to ensure you arrive safely."

"I'd appreciate that, thank you," Wanda replied, straightening up from her slouched position, her focus on the redhead leading the way. "May I ask your name?"

The woman chuckled, amusement evident in her question. "You're still drunk, aren't you? Didn't even catch my name when I mentioned it to the cops. But for your benefit, I'm Natasha."

Wanda felt a rush of warmth flood her cheeks as she lowered her gaze, a mixture of excitement and shyness washing over her. "Well, you probably heard my name from the cops, but I'm Wanda."

The walk to Wanda's apartment passed without incident, yet she yearned for a few more moments in Natasha's company. "I wanted to ask if I could take you out for coffee sometime? You saved me, and I honestly don't know what would've happened if you hadn't stepped in to help."

Natasha's smile seemed to radiate beyond Wanda's comprehension, igniting a fluttering sensation in her chest similar to a stampede of a thousand lions or attackers, much like the recent encounter.

"Coffee? I can't turn that down."

Thrilled by Natasha's response, Wanda suggested exchanging numbers, promising to text her to arrange their coffee... date?

Two days post-incident, they had their coffee date and have been texting non-stop ever since. Wanda's feeling like her high school self, giddy over every bit of attention from her crush. Natasha's shameless flirting has Wanda on cloud nine, unable to resist.

Wanda found out Natasha owns the cafe she frequents before work and the same one that they are in, leading her to realize why she's seen the redhead there. She chose not to mention her search for Natasha since that day, not wanting to come off as creepy.

She also noticed Natasha's distinct scent, one that's followed her everywhere. Wanda attributed it to Natasha being the cafe owner, a blend of vanilla, coffee, and smoke that has her infatuated, craving to be near Natasha, almost wishing the scent would linger on her own skin.

Their dates spanned from nights at Wanda's place watching movies to rides on Natasha's bike, aimlessly driving until dusk to catch the city lights. Most days found them in Natasha's cafe, engrossed in hours-long conversations, both eager to delve deeper into each other's worlds. Throughout these passing weeks, Natasha never initiated a kiss, leaving Wanda increasingly frustrated. Natasha, like a gentleman, prioritized her comfort, guiding her with a hand on her back as they walked. Wanda cherished these small gestures from Natasha, prompting her decision to take their relationship to the next level.

After dropping Wanda off at her apartment door, Natasha was invited inside but had to decline, citing the need to return to the shop to oversee the closing duties. Just as Natasha was about to leave, Wanda seized her wrist and gently guided her in with her other hand, planting an unexpected kiss on Natasha's lips. The kiss started out slow, gauging each other's reaction then escalated to a full blown make out session in a matter of seconds.

"Fuck. I've been wanting to do that, detka." Natasha gasped, catching her breath after an intense moment at Wanda's doorway.

"You kept me waiting, so I took matters into my own hands." Wanda smirked, leaning in for another passionate kiss.

As they parted, both women steadied their breaths. Natasha's eyes were hooded, a dangerous intensity sparked by Wanda's soft moans. Wanda can almost see how Natasha restrained herself from diving right back in and kissng her senseless.

"I need to leave. See you tomorrow, alright?" Natasha leaned in for another kiss, soft and tender, her hands gripping Wanda's waist affectionately.

Biting her lower lip, Wanda traced Natasha's jawline down to her chin. "Call me when you're home, okay?"

"You're quite the tease," Natasha's voice lowered, adding to Wanda's excitement.

Natasha had left her apartment, leaving Wanda to her own devices. Surveying her apartment, she detected a trace of Natasha's scent that seemed to linger, despite it being present even before they met. It seemed like the scent had been branded on her skin. Puzzled by this, Wanda pondered its origin, realizing there might be no immediate answers. Choosing to tidy up before bed, she glimpsed the lavender bouquet gifted by Natasha on her way to the bathroom. Reflecting on Natasha's enigmatic nature, Wanda felt a magnetic pull, a desire to unravel every aspect of Natasha, from the smallest facts about her to the biggest secret she could hide.

Approaching midnight, Wanda wrestled with restlessness in her bed, anxiously awaiting Natasha's call, presuming she wasn't home yet despite the late hour. Beyond concern for Natasha's whereabouts, Wanda found herself reflecting on their dating experience. Recalling moments where Natasha displayed an uncanny knowledge of her life, from effortlessly navigating to her workplace without directions to casually mentioning her favorite nail polish and preemptively ordering her preferred dish at a European restaurant, Wanda initially dismissed these incidents. However, now, the significance of Natasha's insights weighed heavily on her. It became clear that these instances weren't mere chance occurrences; Natasha inexplicably knew intimate details about her despite her not mentioning those things. Wanda grappled with the thought, how could Natasha know things about her?

Wanda's contemplation was interrupted as she heard the knob to her main door turned. Alert and heart racing, she dashed out of her room, immediately fearing a potential robbery. Scanning the area, she found nothing visibly wrong, but the unease lingered; a lurking burglar could strike at any moment. Recollecting she owned a baseball bat for self-defense, Wanda hurried back to her room. Retrieving the bat and turning around, she was startled by another presence, a masked figure carrying a knife on her left hand.

Wanda held out her bat and thought of ways on how to escape her room. But how can she escape when the masked figure is right there on her doorway. As the person advanced toward her with an intimidating stride, her trembling intensified. Acting on instinct, she swung the bat, but the figure deftly caught it, disarming her. Realizing her vulnerability, Wanda attempted to flee her room, but two powerful hands swiftly grabbed and wrapped her midsection, preventing her escape.

"Let go of me!" Wanda protested, squirming in a futile attempt to break free from the hold. Her captor silenced her with a hand over her mouth, yet she persisted in struggling despite the slim chances of breaking away.

The masked figure flung her onto the bed, intensifying Wanda's fear. Seated on her thighs, trapping and preventing her from leaping off the bed.

"I have been following you, watching every move," the distorted voice echoed.

Wanda briefly halted her struggles, her heart racing incessantly, scanning the figure above her. Apart from the looming mask, the body on top of her appeared to be lithe, yet possessed an unyielding grip. She can't quite decipher why she is not panicking and screaming at the top of her lungs, crying for help. Instead, the masked figure released her mouth, sensing Wanda's confusion.

"Who are you?" Wanda asked in a breathless manner, anticipating the revelation that would unfold only if the person would opt to reveal themselves.

The ensuing silence unsettled Wanda as her captor leaned closer, appearing to scrutinise her. Suddenly, a hand trailed across her clothed abdomen, creeping upward to her left breast, applying a gentle pressure. Startled, Wanda jolted from her reverie, resuming her struggle and protesting, "Get off me! Get off me!"

The other person has subdued Wanda by pinning both of her wrists on top of her head using a belt that was removed from their waist, "If you stay still and be a good girl, I promise I'm going to make you feel good."

"No, no! I don't want you! Please, get off me!" Wanda pleaded.

"It's just me, baby. I thought you wanted me so bad."

The smug tone of the masked person seemed so familiar.

"N-Natasha?" Wanda asked with disbelief.

"That's right, darling," Both of Natasha's fingertips traced over Wanda's taut abdomen, leaving goosebumps on the brunette's skin.

"What are you doing?" Wanda's voice trembled and attempted to reach Natasha's face, "Why are you doing this?"

"You've been on my mind ever since I saw you," Natasha has lifted Wanda's sweatshirt up to her chest, exposing the delicious tits that she had been admiring for a long time. "I bet you didn't know I placed a camera right here in your bedroom. Watching every move."

To say that Wanda is terrified at Natasha's confession is an understatement. All this time, Natasha knew about her and she's a clueless dumb little girl. Her breath quickens at every second that ticks while she's laying beneath this hell of a woman.

"What are you talking about? That's not true!"

"I can't get you out of my head. I had to do it. I needed, no, fuck, I wanted to own you." Natasha wishepered on her ear. She then removed her mask and placed it on top of the bed, close to reach. Her eyes carried a dangerous intention, making Wanda whine from the intensity of the stare.

"Seeing and touching your gorgeous fucking tits is better than watching them from a screen." Natasha leaned down to suck on Wanda's nipple, biting, rolling it gently while kneading the other one with her hand aggressively.

A moan escaped from Wanda's mouth, much to her surprise. She cannot fathom whether she will let herself succumb to this torturous pleasure or run with it. But fuck it, she wanted Natasha in any way possible.

"Aren't you a pretty little thing? You like this, huh? I bet your pussy is wet for me. Would you like me to check?"

"Please, no." Wanda whined even more and shook her head, embarrassed by her body's reaction from Natasha's ministrations.

"No? But I can feel you squeezing your thighs. Trying to hide your arousal, sweetheart?" And with that, Natasha got up and kneeled on the side of Wanda's bed, facing the clothed pussy. "This pussy is mine."

In a swift motion, Wanda's boxers came off and slid through her legs. She closed her thighs at an instant, feeling vulnerable at Natasha's hungry stare.

"Natasha, please!"

"Please, what? I can make this icky feeling disappear, baby. Come on! Don't make me angry!"

Natasha's threat somehow got into Wanda's brain and obediently opened her legs. And she was right, Wanda is dripping. Her arousal is evident with the way her pussy is glistening.

Wanda's breath hitched the moment Natasha's tongue touched her throbbing core. Natasha's warming it up with gentle, kitten licks from the bottom to circling the tip of her sensitive clit. These continued movements earned a deep moan from Wanda, silently pleading and praying for more.

The slow, broad licks of Natasha's tongue proved to be Wanda's undoing. She knew that this sinful act is way better than the times she touched herself, fantasising about Natasha doing the unspeakable things to her.

Natasha's method alternated between licking the clit with precision by using the tip of her tongue to sucking the entirety of Wanda's pussy, making her arch her back from the intense pleasure that was cursing through her body.

"F-fuck! Ahhh—faster!"

Wanda was startled with how her body was reacting effortlessly to Natasha and her brain was in constant push and pull whether this pleasure is a welcome touch on her senses. But what can she lose? She badly wanted Natasha and could barely keep it together. She decided right then to let herself melt on the wave of pleasure and to not overthink her current situation. The coil in her stomach snapped at an instant, welcoming the surge of intense earth-shattering orgasm that made her thrash on top of the bed, legs shaking violently.

Natasha let Wanda ride through her orgasm by slow strokes of her tongue, easing her into a relaxed manner. Although she had a smirk on her facing, feeling triumphant at Wanda's fucked out appearance. She reached up and caressed Wanda's cheek lovingly.

"What a good girl you are, Wanda."

After regaining her breath, Wanda soaked in Natasha's praise, a pleased smile lighting up her face. She gazed at Natasha and leaned in for a kiss. Their kiss was brimming with an intense passion and an insatiable desire, longing to unleash itself in the most fervent and unrestrained manner imaginable. It was a slow, deliberate meeting of lips that carried within it a fiery yearning, desperate to be set free in an eruption of fervour.

"I want to fuck you. I will make you reach places which you thought never existed within you," Natasha growled at her ears. "Lay on your stomach."

The command came in a gentle manner, but Wanda understood not to hesitate, immediately positioning herself exactly as instructed without a second thought. She felt Natasha behind her and her upper back was pushed on the bed, while her ass was hoisted further up.

Wanda glanced at the side of her room and caught a view of herself from the mirror. Her back is arched at a perfect angle, laying flat on her stomach and her ass is aligned with Natasha's crotch. Her wrists are still bound by a belt and were stretched out on top of her head. She then saw that Natasha had removed her pants and what was left on her was a harness that is strapped intricately on her waist, and the faux cock is hanging proudly in the middle of her buttcheeks.

Naturally, Wanda's eyes widened at the sight of Natasha. The redhead had opted to remove her top as well, leaving her bare breasts for Wanda to see. She wanted to reach out and feel them with her own hands, perhaps she can perform all of her fantasies at a later time, only if Natasha allows her to do it.

"You're so goddamn sexy, Wanda. I don't know how I was able to keep it this long," Natasha's hands travelled over the expanse of Wanda's back, and gave a loud smack on her left buttcheek. "I'll fuck you, so, so good."

Natasha aligned the tip of her cock at Wanda's entrance and slowly pushed in. There was little to no resistance since Wanda is well lubricated with her own wetness. But the stretch of the toy inside was overwhelming Wanda's senses.

"Fuck! It's too big. It won't fit!" Wanda said in a panicked haze.

"Oh baby," Natasha falsely comforted Wanda's worry and caressed the back of her head. "Then I'll have to push harder for it to fit, yeah?"

Natasha silenced Wanda's protest by shoving her head down further onto the pillow, stifling both her groans and pleas.

"You're going to fucking take it!" Each word was punctuated with deep, hard, backbreaking thrusts, making the bed squeak from the repetitive moment.

Wanda's silent muffled noise can be heard simultaneously with the sound of Natasha's brutal pounding. Gasping for air, she struggled to turn her head, desperate for a breath while also trying to catch a glimpse of her surroundings.

Natasha bundled Wanda's hair in her hand and pulled her to her chest abruptly "See, baby? It fits in your tight little pussy."

Mouth agaped, and eyes rolled back, Wanda nodded dumbly, letting herself be fucked throroughly. She can't remember sex being this good, but good God, Natasha knew what she's doing. True to her words, Wanda indeed reached places she thought never existed. Each brutal pound transports her to a different dimension, opening up portals for agonizing sensation and pleasure.

"My pretty little slut to ruin," Natasha murmured to her ear. "You like being fucked like this, huh?"

"Yes! Oh god! Harder, please!"

Wanda felt Natasha's breast hitting her back and their bodies' closeness somehow grounds her. And oh, that unique scent of Natasha filled her senses, intensifying her desire to be immersed in Natasha's presence. The blend of vanilla and cigarette smoke seemed to be a metaphor for Natasha's personality— soft, sweet, and kind-hearted. Yet be the kind of person who will break into her apartment with an intent of fucking her to oblivion. She felt loved and at the same time violated, questioning her own sanity at how easily she could melt like a puddle at Natasha's undeniable allure.

"Natasha, I-I'm gonna c-cum!" Wanda cried out at how fast approaching her orgasm was and Natasha doubled her efforts into bringing her into another climax.

"Cum on my cock, you slut." Natasha's encouragement opened Wanda's floodgates that made her wildly thrash against her chest, screaming her name as the orgasm paralyzed her fucked out senses.

Exhausted, Wanda collapsed on her bed, her head turned to the side, breathing heavily. Natasha pulled out the strap and laid beside her.

Natasha gazed at Wanda's face, patiently awaiting her calmness and awareness of her surroundings. "You did so good, baby."

A smile graced Wanda's face, prompting her to lean in for a sweet and gentle kiss with Natasha. The kind of soft touch that both women needed after an intense activity. Despite being tired and on the verge of sleep, Wanda still looked remarkably beautiful in Natasha's eyes.

"Planning to doze off on me, Princess?" Natasha teased her lover.

"No!" Wanda replied defiantly, scrambling to her feet and straddling Natasha's waist.

Wanda bit her lip seductively, contemplating what she's going to say next, "Why don't you wear your mask again while I ride you?"

"Hmm, did I hear that right? Are you sure you're not too tired?" Natasha teased Wanda again and pinched her nipple, checking if she was serious on her suggestion because she's ready.

Wanda playfully nodded, grabbing the ghost mask beside them and putting it on Natasha's head. She loved how Natasha's eyes sparkled dangerously while lowering the mask which made her pussy throb even more.

"Do you still have your camera set up here at the moment?" Wanda asked while she positioned herself atop Natasha.

"Yes."

Feeling satisfied, Wanda sank down and moaned at the familiar stretch.

"Good, 'cause I'm going to fuck myself with your cock all night long."

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