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kiarastromboli · 5 months

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I missed u (Matt Sturniolo x Y/n)

Masterlist.

Warning: Smut content, don’t like it = don’t read it :)

Summary: You and your boyfriend Matt haven't seen each other for two weeks, and it's becoming unbearable for both of you.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Matt and I have been a couple for over a year now. Since the beginning of our relationship, we've always been very close, to the point where I don't think we've ever gone more than 2 days without seeing each other until last week.

I didn't think his absence would affect me so much. This week, Matt has been particularly busy with his YouTube channel, and he and his brothers have had quite a few projects to manage lately. As for me, I've been swamped with work; we're entering the Christmas season, so my job is busier than the rest of the year.

Anyway, it's been more than two weeks now since I've had the chance to see my boyfriend, and I feel like I'm going crazy. I have trouble sleeping without him, and I won't lie about the fact that I really want him right now. I know he feels the same way. The only times we've had the chance to call each other in the past two weeks were for him to relieve some pressure because, according to him, he "can't do it alone."

This leaves me desperate in the situation. I've tried to distract myself by masturbating several times, but it doesn't help. I'm incredibly horny, and the only thing that could help me right now is Matt.

I was quietly in bed at 1 a.m., unable to sleep as usual, when I was alerted by a message from my boyfriend on my phone.

I knew teasing Matt wasn't a very good idea, firstly because he's been just as horny as me lately, so I knew it would frustrate him. Secondly, it would end up frustrating me too...

I could see Matt starting to type and then stopping, as if he was hesitant to send me a message. After waiting for several minutes, I decided to put my phone down when I realized he wouldn't respond.

Well, at least that's what I thought before receiving another notification on my phone...

I got up from my bed to walk over to my wardrobe. I pulled out an assortment of lingerie I had bought a few days ago for this special occasion, especially for Matt. It was a blue lace set, Matt's favorite color. I knew it would drive him crazy to see me in it. The garter belt gave me a goddess-like figure, and the bra held my chest perfectly, although I knew Matt wouldn't waste a second to tear it off. I was already completely wet at the thought.

Barely finishing tidying up my room, he was already there knocking on my door. I hurried to run and open it for him in my little outfit.

"Hi-" he began to say before I cut him off, pulling him towards me by his collar and kissing him as I opened the door for him to enter.

"So eager," he said, disconnecting our lips with a smirk.

He took a step back to observe me in more detail when he saw what I was wearing. I could see his pupils dilate. I spun around to give him a better view, and he grabbed me by the waist after running his hand over his face to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"Do you like what you see?" I asked, smiling.

His grip on my waist tightened as I locked eyes with him. He licked his lips and bit them, continuing to look me up and down.

"Do you remember your safe word?" he asked, bringing his hand to my throat to force me to look him in the eyes.

"Ketchup," I said, chuckling to tease him. He tightened his hand around my throat, eliciting a soft moan from my lips.

"I'm serious, y/n. What's your safe word?" he said in an intimidating voice, bringing his lips close to mine.

"Hmm, red," I said in a tiny voice, biting my lips. I could feel a warmth building between my legs just from his voice.

His eyes left mine to gaze at my slightly swollen, rosy lips from our previous kiss. A smile played on the corner of his face before he started advancing towards my bedroom, not letting go of my throat.

"Kiss me," I begged when we reached my room, and the back of my legs touched the side of my bed.

"What did you say? I think I misheard," he replied, amused by my impatience and desire.

"Please, Matt, kiss me," I pleaded, frustrated that he wouldn't press his lips against mine again. I looked pathetic, and he loved it.

He took off his t-shirt. "Show me that you deserve it," he said, chuckling before pushing me onto the bed so that I sat right in front of him.

I raised my eyes to him, giving him an innocent doe-eyed look. He looked at me as if he were a predator, and I was his prey. My eyes drifted to the bulge in his gray sweatpants in front of me before returning my gaze to him.

"Don't play shy with me, baby. I know you're dying for it. Take it," he said in an authoritative tone, grabbing my hair in a ponytail to clear my face while licking his lips.

I brought both of my hands to the elastic of his sweatpants, pulling them down to his ankles, leaving him in his boxers. He was bulging in his boxers; I had almost forgotten how sizable it was. Not too big to be unmanageable, but just big enough to fill me where I needed it. However, it had been a while since we had been intimate, and I already dreaded the pain I would likely feel when he penetrates me.

"Stop looking at it like that, suck it before I shove it down your throat, y/n. Don't make me wait," he said, abruptly pulling on my hair, making me sigh in surprise.

I started to palm him through his boxers, looking him straight in the eyes. I could see the intense desire burning in his eyes, making me smile in the moment.

"This is the last time I'm warning you, y/n. Stop teasing me, take it," he said, trying to hold back a frustrated moan when I removed his boxers.

"Or what?" I said, smiling playfully. I wanted to push him to the edge; I knew he wouldn't be gentle with me, and that's what I wanted.

He smiled, licking his lips to suppress a chuckle.

"You want to play like that, huh?" he said, running his thumb over my lips. I quickly took it between my teeth and nodded, looking him in the eyes.

"Fuck, I missed you so much," he said, removing his thumb from my mouth to grasp his member and press it against my lips, signaling me to open my mouth, which I eventually did.

Without warning, he immediately thrust it deep into my throat, catching me off guard and making me cough around his cock.

He chuckled but didn't stop his momentum. He began guiding my head back and forth faster and faster. I tried my best not to choke and to suppress my gag reflex every time he hit the back of my throat.

"I missed fucking your pretty little mouth like this, princess," he said, breathing rapidly. "You're so good with your tongue," he added, throwing his head back, making me moan around his cock.

Tears started to flow down my cheeks due to his constant abuse on the back of my throat, and he quickly noticed, coming to wipe my tears away with his thumb.

"Look at you crying like a baby when you were acting all tough just a few minutes ago," he said with a smirk. I furrowed my brows, unable to help but moan every time he opened his mouth to say something.

I was completely at his mercy, and I loved it. He let go of my hair to grasp my face with both hands before thrusting into me at an inhuman speed. He released moans and groans, and it only excited me even more.

He pulled out of my mouth suddenly, causing me to let out a sigh of relief and frustration. "Why did you stop?" I asked, breathless.

He leaned in to kiss me fiercely. "I'm not done with you, baby, don't worry," he said, smiling against my lips before pushing me to move back towards my headboard. He was now positioned above me, his lips glued to mine without any struggle for dominance; his tongue didn't have to fight for control.

His hand moved from my cheek to my neck, then to my chest, where he paused for a moment to play with my nipples through my delicate lace bra, making me moan again, this time into our kiss. I felt completely intoxicated, drugged by him, by his lips on mine, and his hands on my body. I was on fire, completely consumed by him. I wanted him to do unimaginable things to me.

His hand left my chest to roam my waist, where he sank his fingers before descending to my lower abdomen.

My breathing quickened; he was getting closer and closer to where I needed him. I couldn't take it anymore; I only dreamed of one thing: him touching me.

He started playing with the lace of my panties, frustrating me at the moment. I wanted him to go further, but I knew he was punishing me for my previous behavior. "Matt, please," I said, moaning and closing my eyes. I needed him to touch me; I was dying for it.

"Please what, baby? You're a big girl; formulate a proper sentence, princess," he said with a big smile. He knew exactly what I wanted; he just wanted me to say it. He enjoyed seeing me beg; he loved it.

"Please touch me, I need you. Stop making me wait. I promise to behave like a good girl. Please, touch me, Matt," I pleaded, moaning pathetically. He directed his lips to my neck before finally touching me through my panties.

I let out a sigh of relief when I finally felt his fingers apply pressure to my clit. He made agonizingly slow circular motions, and I began to squirm against the mattress, frustrated because I wanted more. I needed more.

"Matt," I said in a frustrated moan, feeling him smile against the skin of my neck. He slipped his hand into my panties this time, letting out a surprised moan in my ear when he felt how wet I was for him.

"Soaked like a little slut," he said before coming to suck marks on my neck.

"Yes, your slut, and only yours," I replied, moaning when he started massaging my clit harder and faster. I couldn't help but moan at this point; it was stronger than me. I could feel that familiar knot tightening in my stomach; I had been waiting for days to finally climax properly.

But suddenly, and without warning, as I dangerously approached my orgasm, he removed his hand from my panties. I raised my head with a frustrated moan once again. He sat up to look me in the eyes with a satisfied smile. "What's wrong? Were you about to come? Did I stop at the wrong moment?" he said, chuckling.

"Matt," I told him, looking at him with frustration for what he had just inflicted on me. He took me by the waist to switch our positions this time, him below and me just above him.

"You're lucky it's been two weeks since we've done anything. If it weren't the case, I would have left you hanging to punish you for how you behaved with me," he said, grabbing me by the throat before giving me a hip thrust, rubbing his erection against my still clothed pussy.

I let out another moan before leaning slightly forward to rest on my arm placed on his chest. "Take off your panties before I tear them off," he said, smiling.

I moved off him to remove my panties and then straddled him. He directed me towards his face. "Ride my face, baby," he said authoritatively.

I hesitated for a moment before giving in and positioning myself just above his face. His arms wrapped around my thighs as if to prevent me from escaping his grasp. I slowly let myself fall onto his face, and when I felt his tongue on my pussy, I thought I was going to go completely insane.

He began to lick my clit going progressively faster and humping against me which sent vibrations directly against my clit, I hadn't put my weight on his face for fear of smothering him but I could feel my thighs weakening as the minutes passed. He began to lick my hole assiduously, his nose rubbing against my clit which pushed me even further towards my orgasm, his fingers were planted in my thighs when he felt them trembling because they were weakening, he came to press on them to force me to put all my weight on his face.

I tried to resist but I was so obsessed by the effect he was having on me that I finally cracked, leaving all my weight on his face, which caused the pressure of his nose on my clit to increase, making me moan louder than the previous ones.

I started rubbing back and forth on his face controlled by my pleasure it was all just too much for me the sensation in my lower belly started to become unbearable "M-matt- oh my- fuckkkk" I said closing my eyes feeling my orgasm approaching.

I raised my pelvis because I felt that all this stimulation was too much for me, the orgasm that was dangerously close was driving me crazy but Matt had another plan in mind with the help of his arms he came to press again on my thighs to force me to stay in place, he started to eat me with more passion I threw my head back when I felt my orgasm coming "fuck- I'm going to cum. "I groaned, almost screaming, at the pleasure he was giving me, and suddenly the pressure was off again. I came all over his face, shouting his names and a few insults along the way, before letting myself fall onto the bed next to him.

My eyes were closed, I was out of breath and Matt came to stand beside me, kissing my cheek before whispering in my ear "I'm still not done with you", I could hear his smirk in the tone of his sentence.

He straightened up and turned me against the mattress, now on my stomach. "Matt, wait, I'm too sensitive," I said, turning my head slightly towards him. He grabbed me by the hips and arched me so that I was level with his pelvis.

"I don't care you can take it I know you can." he said in my ear before straightening up and rubbing his member against my hole. His free hand caressed the length of my back before grabbing the back of my neck and pressing my head against his pillow.

He knew it'd been a while so he gently pushed inside me and I let out a moan of pain at the burning and stretching sensation, he stopped halfway through to ask me "Are you all right princess?" and I couldn't help but smile at his concern, it was so paradoxical that he should ask me that after fucking my throat like a monster and giving me one of the most powerful orgasms I'd ever had.

"Yes, baby, you can move, I just need to get back to your size," I said, moaning softly. He moved forward again until he hit bottom and let out a beautiful moan.

"I can't believe this pussy is mine." he said as he caressed my ass before starting to stroke back and forth.

"Fuck you're really tight I'm not going to last very long." he moaned clutching my hips as if his life depended on it.

I felt like I'd gone completely stupid because of his cock, it was going exactly where I needed it to go, the only sounds coming out of my mouth were moans and my boyfriend's name, as if my memory had been wiped and those were the things left out of my vocabulary.

He started to speed up the movement and he brought his hand to my clit to play with it was still super sensitive so I couldn't help gesticulating when he did that.

"I'm gonna fucking cum y/n" he said in an animalistic moan his movements had become severely fast he was slapping the bottom like I'd never been able to feel it in my belly.

"Cum with me princess." he said as he felt my pussy clench around him I didn't need to speak he knew my body by heart he knew I was about to cum.

And after a few more thrusts I came for the second time, my vagina convulsing around his cock, pushing it to the edge before he cum inside me.

We stayed in that position for a moment, just long enough to catch our breath, before he pulled out of me and lay down beside me.

With what little strength I had left, I snuggled up to him, "I love you, baby," he said, running his hand through my hair.

"I love you too," I replied in a tired voice with my eyes closed.

"I'm going to run you a bath, my princess, and I'll drop you off at work in the morning, don't worry." he said with a smile before standing up.

Masterlist.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #ao3 fanfic #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #smut

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transvampireboyfriend · 8 months

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this was supposed to be a headcanon, just me explaining that I want to see their routines bleed into each others and it turned into 3k words. So, you can also read it on ao3 here. And here are the rings I was visualizing. I hope you enjoy it <3

One of the first nights he stays over, Eddie stands outside Steve's bathroom door and asks Steve what he's doing in there.

He got in before Eddie went to shower across the hall and Eddie's clean and changed into his borrowed PJs now, and Steve's still in there, and it sounds like he's banging pots and pans inside.

Steve laughs, but calls "Don't laugh,"

Eddie swears "I would never," as Steve opens the door, and when Steve comes out with his face covered in green goo, instead of laughing, Eddie gasps.

"What's that?" Eddies asks, his finger already drawing a line across Steve's cheek.

Before Steve can answer, Eddie puts the goo into his mouth.

Steve's eyes go wide as plates.

"Eddie!" he protests "You're not supposed to eat it! What if it's toxic?"

"Is it?" Eddie asks, licking his teeth, "tastes like cucumber. But like, way too clean,"

Steve chuckles, "It is made of cucumber, its a mask. Supposed to keep your skin nice." he explains, going back into his bathroom to cover the strip that Eddie scrubbed with more of the goo.

Eddie does not hesitate to follow after him. Hopping up on the ample counter to observe.

"Well, it's doing its job well, I think" Eddie points out.

Steve tries his best not to smile. "Thanks," he says "You're not freaked out by it?" he asks,

"I think it's cool" Eddie shrug,

Steve can't help his smile this time.

"Well this works out well because I have to keep it on for 10 minutes and this way i won't get bored." Steve offers, "What were you saying about Stevie Nicks before?"

Eddie talks his ear off while Steve tidies up the containers in his counter.

Once it's time to wash the mask off, Eddie watches him, then, he dutifully washes his own hands so he can poke a finger at one of Steve's cheeks.

He says it's cool to the touch and really soft. He approves.

Steve feels butterflies fluttering inside his chest.

☀♡☀♡

After that, it becomes a habit, Eddie goes and showers and changes and when he's ready for bed he comes keep Steve company, knocks twice for Steve to open the door and once he does he walks in and takes his place up on the counter.

A few months after they get together, Steve notices Eddie staring during a lull in their conversation while Steve is going through his skin care.

He's done it before a few times in the past weeks, Steve figured he was maybe off on a train of thought but now he's curious. Eddie's got his head tilted to the side, his mouth is scrunched up like he's stopping himself from saying something and he's fiddling with his rings, and suddenly something clicks for Steve.

He's applying a mask with a little wooden applicator and he extends it towards Eddie, presents it in front of his big beautiful brown eyes.

"D'you wanna try?" he offers

Eddie's eyes twinkle. His mouth blooms into a smirk, his dimples showing up as he enthusiastically nods and cranes his neck forward, like the only possible option is for Steve to apply it for him.

Steve laughs quietly, stepping closer to him and placing a kiss to his cheek.

"Why didn't you say?" he asks, still kissing him, his lips moving against Eddie's cheeks and making him giggle.

"I don't know" Eddie says "What if you didn't wanna share it? You've said before, this stuff is personal"

Steve draws back and immediately goes back in to press kisses against Eddie's other cheek.

"Well, yeah, we have to get you your own stuff if you like it, but you can share mine for now, sunshine." another kiss. "I don't mind." and another kiss "I would love for you to share it actually" he presses one final kiss and draws back to admire his work: Eddie's smile as wide as it gets and Eddie's cheeks tinted with the softest, prettiest red.

"You have to teach me." Eddie demands "I know I've watched you do it since forever, but i don't think I can do it on my own" he adds.

Steve smiles, completely enamored "You've done it for me before. Several times" he points out

"Yeah, with you coaching me through it!" Eddie whines, "I'd mess it all up" he's so serious, Steve finds it incredibly endearing.

Steve chuckles and leans over to press a small kiss against the bridge of Eddie's nose. "Mmkay" he murmurs "we gotta wash your face first"

☀♡☀♡

Little by little, Eddie gets confident enough to do it himself. Once he understands what everything does and sees the effects it all has on his skin, he even picks and chooses the steps he wants to do each day.

Steve loves it so much he can't put it into words. And he loves that he doesn't have to do this alone anymore.

Even when they're apart Eddie calls while Steve goes through his routine, sometimes they do it together but over the phone. Even when Eddie doesn't feel like doing anything at all he still sits by him and they talk about everything and nothing. Steve never imagined something so simple could make him so happy.

☀♡☀♡☀♡☀♡☀♡☀♡

For Eddie, it's even more simple but just as important.

The first time he catches Steve eyeing his rings is while he's being forced to listen to a Tears for Fears record.

Steve insists that they're good, Eddie's been staunchly refusing, but only because he likes seeing Steve get riled up. He gets bitchy and Eddie thinks he's the hottest person he's ever met.

Eddie's been trying to rile him up again as they lay on his bed and listen to the record, but Steve is not listening, his eyes are trained on Eddie's hands as he moves them around to explain his points. Once he figures it out, Eddie goes quiet for a bit, just moves a hand.

Steve's eyes follow it.

Eddie slides his skull ring off his hand and offers a waiting hand.

Steve's hazel eyes look at the ring, then at his waiting palm, then at Eddie. Eddie raises his eyebrows and smiles encouragingly and Steve finally places his hand in his.

Eddie slides the ring on and off three of Steve's fingers before he finds the right fit.

"There you go" he says, his voice quiet under the music. His throat dry from all the places they're touching.

Steve raises his hand above their heads, turns it around as he looks at the ring.

"I like it" Steve decides with a smile.

"You can keep it" Eddie says, without thinking.

Steve looks at him with wide beautiful eyes. "I- I don't" he stammers,

"Oh" Eddie says "I mean, you don't have to. It's okay" he tells him.

Steve shakes his head a little. "It's not-" he seems to have trouble finding the words.

"Give it here" Eddie supplies after a beat, offering up his waiting palm again.

Steve puckers his lips and slides the ring off his hand, places it on Eddie's waiting palm for him to slide it back on.

☀♡☀♡

After that, Eddie expects the looks will stop, maybe Steve just wanted to see what it was like to wear one, that's okay.

But, that same weekend, while they're smoking, lying on Eddie's bed this time, Steve is doing it again, his eyes focused on Eddie's fingers whenever they pass the blunt between them.

Eddie tries a different approach this time.

"Which one do you like?" he asks,

When Steve raises his eyebrows, Eddie raises both his hands above their heads, clicks his rings together.

"Which one do I like the most?" Steve asks,

Not what Eddie said, but-

"Sure" he shrugs, intrigued.

"Hmm" Steve hums, bringing his fingers up to trace Eddie's rings. Eddies tries his best to suppress his shiver.

Steve finally lands on a ring, one with a deep brown stone in it.

"This one." he states quietly.

Wordlessly, Eddie hooks his right pinky around Steve's left index finger and holds on while he twists their hands around to slide the ring off his finger and onto Steve's.

"It's pretty" Steve comments, slowly disentangling their hands.

Eddie hums an assent.

Steve moves his hand around. "Feels heavy." he notices.

Eddie turns his head to look at Steve's face. "Yeah," he confirms.

He waits until Steve looks back at him to offer.

"Do you want that one?" Eddie whispers.

Steve looks into both his eyes, one after the other and the handsomest smile blooms on his face, he nods.

"If I can have it." Steve whispers back.

Eddie clears his throat so his voice is not so hoarse "It's yours" he confirms with a smile of his own.

"Thanks, Eds. I'm gonna buy one for you to replace it" Steve promises, admiring his ring.

"You don't have to" Eddie tells him, "I'm giving it to you"

"I know. I want to" Steve says.

Steve holds their blunt to Eddie's lips again, says "Tell me about your song again" and once Eddie leans up and takes the blunt, Steve hooks their pinkies together.

Eddie tells him about the bridge he found and how he can't quite find an ending.

☀♡☀♡

A week or so later they share their first kiss. Huddled together under Steve's bed covers in the middle of the night.

In between that night and the first time they tug at each other's clothes, tucked inside Eddie's van in the early hours of the morning after a very intense Corroded Coffin gig, Steve continues taking Eddie's rings and wearing them for random stretches of time.

He calls Eddie "sunshine" and Eddie calls him "sweetheart". They cook for each other and then together, they watch movies, they talk after they have nightmares, well into the sunrise. They go for swims and they have picnics and they hold hands.

Eddie takes his rings off to go to the bathroom and often he'll come back to find one missing, or, not really missing, just on one of Steve's fingers. Steve usually gives it back by the end of their hangout or the next day they see each other.

Sometimes, Steve takes the rings right off Eddie's hand and Eddie lets him. Steve tries on each and every one, and keeps his favorite, rearranging the rest on Eddie's hands in some particular way, by size, or by color, or by "symbolism" he said once. Eddie adores him.

Those rings he usually gets back within the week.

Some other times, Steve will have a specific request, he even called Eddie once to ask if he could borrow a specific ring he thought would go well with the outfit he had planned for their date the next day. Eddie was delighted.

The first rings Eddie buys for Steve are an ordeal for him. He's so nervous, afraid that Steve won't like them, or that he won't want to have any of his own (even though he wears the one with the brown stone every day), or that he'll refuse to accept them.

He tells Steve that the girl that helped him said he could exchange them even for store credit if he didn't like them. Which, is a lie, but Eddie can make it happen if need be.

Thankfully, he doesn't have to, Steve loves them. Eddie chose one of intertwined metal bands, one with the phases of the moon around it and one that looks like arms are hugging Steve's finger. Steve especially likes that last one.

After that, Eddie takes Steve with him when he goes shopping for rings.

The first ring Steve buys for Eddie, the one that's supposed to "replace" the one with the brown stone, is a sun signet. Eddie maybe tears up a little bit.

It becomes such a part of them, that soon it's virtually impossible to say whose rings are in their bedside table.

Some mornings one of them is in charge of assigning the rings. Some others whoever gets to the side table first gets to choose his rings and leave the rest for the other. Regardless, Eddie loves to sit down and watch Steve pick out and put on his rings for the day. Taking time out of his day, every. single. morning. When he didn't wear rings before Eddie gifted him one. It makes Eddie want to cling to him and press kisses to his beautiful hair.

Some days, when it's Steve's turn to assign the rings he gets a little too into it. Organizing and reorganizing them in different ways, always in neat little rows until they're five minutes late and Eddie has to force himself to say "Stevie, we have to go" even though he could watch Steve organize things and mumble around the explanations for each method for days on end.

The real kicker though, is when Steve buys rings for Eddie that are more Steve's style. He buys rings for Eddie that he would like to wear himself. Because he knows eventually, he'll end up wearing Eddie's rings, no matter what. It's such a declaration of his intent to stick around that Eddie never quite knows what to say.

Steve also plays with his rings now, just as he plays with Eddie's, fiddles with them, removes them for cooking or cleaning, puts them in his pockets or in his glove compartment, they're a part of him as much as Eddie's rings are a part of Eddie, as much as Steve is a part of Eddie.

Eddie likes when their rings clink together when they hold hands, he loves feeling Steve's rings against his skin, in the small of his back or up his sides beneath his shirt. And he absolutely adores stealing Steve's rings too, slipping them off his fingers and into his own, feeling the residual warmth form where Steve's been going about his day with this piece of metal in his hand, Eddie can think of nothing better.

☀♡☀♡

"Eds have you seen my ring?" Steve asks him one night, coming into the kitchen where Eddie's making them pancakes for dinner.

"You're gonna have to be a little bit more specific, big boy" Eddie answers, flipping a pancake.

"No, Eddie" Steve presses, the panic in his tone finally registering and Eddie immediately turns to look at him.

His hair is a mess, like he's been pulling on it, even though he was in the middle of his shower when Eddie left him to come make dinner.

"Oh," Eddie says, finally understanding he means the ring with the brown stone. "I don't have it baby, where did you see it last?" Eddie asks, turning off the stove.

"I left it in the bedside table!" Steve explains, clearly frustrated "it's not there anymore, and it's not on the drawers or on the bed or in the floor or behind the door. I don't know where it is." he finishes, tears forming in his eyes.

Eddie hates seeing him so stressed, he walks up to him and runs his hand up and down his arms.

"We'll find it sweetheart, it's okay. Did you check under the dresser?" Eddie asks.

There was a dresser in their house when they bought it, inside their bedroom. Apparently, the previous owner did not want to deal with the trouble of getting it out and as it turned out, neither did Steve and Eddie. It was a beautiful vintage piece of furniture and it was heavy as a motherfucker.

"Oh. I didn't?" Steve says, "How would it get all the way there?"

The dresser is placed across their bed, so in the wall opposite their bedside tables.

"It seems crazy, but it's happened with a couple of mine" Eddie tells him, "I'm telling you, this place is on a slant" he says, already grabbing Steve and tugging him towards their bedroom.

"Fuck, I hope it's there" he mumbles.

"It will be," Eddie assures him

"What if it went down the drain?" Steve anxiously asks,

"You almost never leave your rings in the bathroom, handsome"

"But what if I did?" Steve insists,

"Then I will go down to the sewers to get it for you" Eddie tells him as they enter their bedroom.

Steve goes to get on the floor but Eddie brings their joined hands to his lips and presses a kiss there, says "Here, I'll look" and gets on his hands and knees in front of their dresser.

Sure enough, there's a small shadow at the very back, the object nearly touching the wall. Eddie comes up to tell Steve and bangs his head against one of the dresser handles.

"Jesus!" Steve exclaims, rubbing Eddie's head for him, "Is it there?" he asks.

Eddie scrunches his eyes shut against the pain and gives Steve a thumbs up, "Mmhm, I think so," he confirms, "You have a ruler on your desk," he tells Steve

Without needing another word Steve goes and gets it for him.

When Eddie finally fishes the ring out, Steve grabs it and clutches it to his chest

"Ohmygod. Thank you" he says, leaning his head against the dresser.

Eddie gets up off the floor and drags him to stand in front of him as Eddie sits in their bed.

Steve takes a couple of moments to breathe deeply, letting go of the last dregs of his panic. Eddie clings to Steve's waist and noses his shirt up to kiss the scarred skin on his side.

Steve finally chuckles softly, bunches his fingers up at the top of Eddie's head.

"Does it hurt too much?" he asks, rubbing at Eddie's head again.

Eddie shakes his head.

Steve switches to petting his hair and softly laughs "God, I almost got a heart attack"

Eddie chuckles, leaning his chin on Steve's stomach to look up at him.

"I love you" he reminds him.

Steve traces his dimples, says "I love you", then grabs one of Eddie's hands from his waist and slides the ring on his hand.

"It's your job to take care of it now. When I'm not wearing it" Steve tells him.

"I will." Eddie promises.

Inevitably, Steve ends up taking care of Eddie's sun signet whenever he's not wearing it, just in case.

The longest they wear those rings for the other is a few months, between getting engaged and exchanging them again at their wedding ceremony.

#i might write their first kiss from this later on. for now- i hope you love this. i sure do! even if its a little all over the place :3 #steddie #steddie headcanon #steve x eddie #steveddie #stranger things #.

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moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami · 23 days

Note

Reader as Persephone's only daughter? And she doesn't get into relationships bc of her mother's past as she was kidnapped by Hades?? Like History repeats itself with Luke being so obsessed with her and the reader doesn't know that she'll just end up like her mother

hello, hello! this one is definitely long overdue. i've been very busy with uni, but this ask was very intriguing!!! thank you for sending, anon ♡ (bonus scene at the end lol)

Luke Castellan wasn’t immediately taken by her the first time she set foot on Camp Half-Blood, that much was certain. She was only a topic of interest because she was Persephone’s daughter, promised yet unexpected all the same. He was far too caught up with claiming his own hoard of kleos to entertain ideas of attraction; however, she became a friend soon enough.

“What are you growing?” He asked her during a spring afternoon years ago, so insignificant that a normal person would forget it entirely.

“I don’t know yet actually.” She responded with pursed lips. Her open palms lingered just above the brown earth, colorful beads dangled from her wrists.

Luke raised an eyebrow.

At his silence, she looked up then waved a packet in front of him. She smiled. “Secret stash from Persephone.”

“Now, I’m not really the boss or anything but I think I’ve been here long enough to know the rules.” He perched his forearm against the bark of a tree, leaning his weight against it. “I don’t think that’s allowed.”

“But you wouldn’t tell on me, would you?” She batted her eyelashes sweetly, jokingly. She turned back to her lump of land. “‘Sides, they're harmless… I think.”

He remained silent and observed as a sprout quickly rose from the depths of her plot. A number of curved leaves on top leaning stems dotted the once empty ground. She rose from her knees, dusting off pellets of grass that hitched onto her clothing.

“That's it?” He asked her, sounding very unimpressed. Was this the extent of her god-gifted abilities?

She narrowed her eyes at him as she stretched. “I don’t give a show for free, Castellan.”

“What do you want in exchange, then?” He asked curiously. He wanted to see— witness what Persephone’s little seedling was capable of flowering.

She thought for a moment then shrugged her shoulders. She walked away from him with a wave. “Grow something of your own then we negotiate the terms.”

A few weeks later, he proudly paraded a plant pot all around camp in search of her. Most of the younger kids looked at him a bit judgmentally when he held it up like he was Rafiki and the little thing was his Simba.

She emerged from the greenhouse after several vexingly loud knocks. She looked down at Luke’s outstretched arms, her lips twitching in amusement at the container filled with inch-long two-leaved sprouts.

“Strawberries?” She pursed her lips. She motioned to the fields of berries sprawling to the left of them. “A bit unoriginal considering…”

“Well, you didn’t tell me I wasn’t allowed to grow strawberries.” He reasoned.

“Touché.” She ceded. She placed a hand over the pot, the sprouts growing exponentially before she took it from Luke's hands. She spent a handful of minutes transferring them into the dirt.

Luke watched silently, interested and intrigued by the alacrity with which she moved.

“Can you look away for a sec?” She spoke suddenly. She turned towards him, all seriousness. “The glaring is pressuring them. They’re a bit self-conscious.”

“Oh.” He looked away immediately, distracting himself instead with the silvers of light that shone through the canopy of branches of a tree not far from him. He listened to her hum as she worked. He couldn't help but return his gaze to her once in a while.

“Done!” She proclaimed excitedly, pulling off her gardening gloves with a satisfied look on her face.

Three strawberry bushes stood before him, taking up residence in what was an empty patch of land mere seconds ago. His lips parted slightly in surprise— it definitely wasn’t uncommon for demi-gods to inherit some of their parents’ powers, but he was startled by how quickly it manifested, especially for botanokinesis.

“Impressed enough?” She crossed her arms with a grin.

“Just the right amount.” He responded casually, returning her smile. He bent down to pick a big ripe berry from the branches.

He bit into it, the juices trickling down his chin. “Sweet.”

He offered the other half to her. She looked down at it skeptically before Luke urged her with a slight little shake from the bundle of leaves at the fruit’s head. She took it into her own hold then lifted it up to her mouth.

𓇢𓆸𓏲𓇬𑁍

In her iteration of the story, Luke wasn’t merely a stand-in for Hades. He wasn’t simply her captor— he was also her pomegranate. His smiles, his looks, his words, his lies, his charm and his wit were all the seeds she foolishly consumed over the years. She yearned desperately for the tart sweetness he offered and unknowingly caused her own captivity.

Bound, bent and broken: this was the fate of Persephone’s only child.

In the darkness of the night, with the hum of Luke’s faint snoring keeping her senses alive despite the late hour, she wondered to herself briefly: was this how her mother felt?

She paused at the thought. Surely, it was a thousand times worse for her mother— a dread and pain so unfathomable that she couldn’t even begin to imagine it. Persephone was innocent; she was tricked and taken advantage of. She, however, was complicit: ignorant at first, but willing to succumb to Luke’s pleas and promises even if she knew the horrors of what he was attempting to do.

“Can’t sleep?” He whispered suddenly, jolting her out of her reverie. His hand moved to rest against her hip, his thumb stroking comforting circles onto her skin.

“Hm,” She hummed absent-mindedly. She turned around to face him, breathing in the scent of sea and sweat that lingered on him— a glaring reminder of what he was getting himself into.

Luke caged his arms around her then pressed a kiss against her temple. "Mine."

"Yours." She responded softly.

He returned to sleep in a matter of seconds, but he held her firmly against him. She couldn’t escape even if she wanted to. She didn’t even want to, anyway.

She closed her eyes. Luke’s presence was her prison, and she was insane enough to willingly stay shackled, albeit metaphorically, regardless of how horrific that sounded.

This was her underworld— her own dauntingly lovely elysium.

BONUS scene from my first draft that i didn't continue writing:

“Well, what’s her master plan then?” She asked. “Why kidnap me?”

“You’re Persephone’s daughter.” He shrugged his shoulders, as if that was enough explanation as to why the leader of a rebellion against the gods wanted to kidnap the spawn of the Goddess of Spring— really, what did he think she was gonna do for him? Grow daffodils and tulips to distract his enemies? It didn’t seem like horticulture proved useful on the battlefield.

“I am not going to grow potatoes and peas for her little revolt, Castellan.” She scoffed.

Of course she knew why she was being held captive. Pretending to be foolish and ignorant never hurt anybody, though. Let him think she was dumbed down enough to bend to his will.

“You’re basically Hades’ daughter.” He continued, essentially bypassing her reply. It was a bit rude, honestly, but the fact that he kidnapped her showed plenty about the state of Luke’s manners.

“Careful what you say, Lukey.” She would’ve wagged her fingers if her wrists weren’t so tightly bound together. “You might just insult another one of the gods.”

Her relationship with her stepfather was… civil yet glacial at best; definitely on brand for him, actually. On her annual winter-break visits to the Underworld, he’d just ignore her for the most part (very understandable, there wasn’t much in common between an eons-old powerful god and a nineteen year old, except the angst probably, but that was a very awkward topic to breach with a father figure). Most of the time, she assumed he just tolerated her because of her mother.

“With you on board, Hades is going to think twice before attacking,” He explained further. He began to pace in front of her. “Your presence might even dissuade him from attacking at all.”

Oh. Oh.

“Sweetheart,” She called him softly with a condescending coo in her tone. “Oh, sweetie. You’re delusional.”

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo tv show #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo

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talesofesther · 6 months

Text

what once was mine | ch 3

Loki x Reader

Series Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.

A/N: We're finally heading into the main plot I think lol. Hope y'all like this one, let me know. <3

Masterlist | Read ch 2 here

"Casey!" You called, hurriedly walking between the rows of files while looking down at the paperwork in your hands. TVA's library was either your favorite place or the place you hated the most. No in-between. It was your favorite when you stopped by to lounge in the armchairs and read your books in the calming silence. But when you had to traverse between the cramped shelves in search of files, that's when you hated it.

"Casey?" You called again, still turning the pages with a frown on your face.

"Yeah, what's up?"

The sudden voice caught your attention and you raised your head just in time to not walk straight into your friend. You chuckled to yourself, coming to stand beside him in the small space between the tall shelves. "I was going through this report and it mentions a code 581, I've never heard that one before." With your finger, you pointed to the underlined letters on the report.

"Oh, that's a fun one," Casey smiled, taking the papers from your hands, "it's kind of a rare case actually, it's when two variants appear simultaneously…"

While you spoke with Casey, all the way on the other side of TVA's weirdly shaped building, and one floor above, stood Mobius with Loki by his side; both of them leaning on the railings and observing you from afar.

"How long did you say she's been here?" Loki asked, his eyes never leaving your form. His face had a complicated expression, almost as if he was still figuring out how to feel about actually seeing you, the same girl from the life he was supposed to have.

"I didn't, I said that time passes differently here in the TVA," Mobius spoke beside him, his eyes slowly shifting between you and Loki. "But, if I had to guess I'd say the equivalent of around two years."

It's been a couple of weeks since Loki arrived, and in his time here he's been quite helpful for the TVA; not enough to catch the rogue variant, but enough to earn his end of the bargain.

"Is it a habit of yours to keep variants around then?" Loki turned to Mobius with a raised brow.

"Not at all," Mobius chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. "You two are the only ones so far, and you can thank me for that, by the way."

Loki pursed his lips as he shifted his gaze back to you. He watched as you spoke with Casey, huge smile on your lips as you gestured around saying something he couldn't understand. "Why keep her?" He asked quietly.

Mobius sighed, following the path of Loki's gaze toward you. "Same reason as you, pretty much. She was very... familiar with the Loki from her timeline and I figured she could be of help to us. At first, she was a very tough nut to crack, but it was either that or be pruned so eventually, she agreed, and has helped capture many Loki variants in her time here."

A scoff went past Loki's lips. His hands gripped the railings tighter, heartbeat quickening with each passing second that brought him closer to meeting you. Why he felt this way, he couldn't tell; it was as if his body knew something he didn't. "And, by her timeline, you mean my timeline as well?"

"Technically, yes."

─── ·❆· ───

"Thank you, Casey, I'll see you at lunch," you gave your friend a small wave as you turned to go in opposite directions. The ghost of a smile lingered on your lips as you closed the file's folder, but it faded immediately as soon as you looked up.

Mobius stood in front of you, he said your name but it sounded like a whisper drowned underwater to your ears, for you were focused on the person a few steps behind him. He had the same raven black curls, the same sharp nose, fair skin, and bright eyes; his features being highlighted by the artificial lights from TVA's infinite floors. He was a ghost. The one from your worst nightmares and most beautiful dreams. A ghost of your past life, one that instantly got your heartbeat skyrocketing and closed up your throat until you couldn't breathe, or talk, or even think.

You were nearly making holes into the file in your hands with the force you held it with, knuckles going white.

Taking a step closer, Mobius called your name again. He tried reaching out towards you but you took a sharp step back. "There's someone who would like to meet you," he settled for saying, calmly, gesturing behind him.

Forming words became a struggle for you. Your lips parted only to tremble with no sound coming from your mouth. Inhaling sharply, you straightened your posture. "No." You said with finality, your eyes not leaving the ones that reminded you of your Loki.

A frown appeared on his features and he looked like he was about to speak, but you beat him to it, finally looking at Mobius; "You. Me. Storage room, now."

With that, you turned around and took urgent steps to the back of the library, shoving open the door that led to a small storage room for older files no one needed anymore. You turned the switch for the single orange light hanging from the ceiling and then clawed at your scalp, trying your best to regulate your breathing.

Mobius walked in, closing the door behind him. "Listen I can-"

"Explain?" You finished for him, urgency and anger dripping from each syllable, "yeah, you better. What was that? Who is he?"

"We were about to get to that before you stormed off." Mobius shrugged.

"Cut the bullshit, Mobius," you sighed, hands coming to rest on your waist.

"He's a Loki, you've met a hundred of them already."

You bit your lip to hold back the tears stinging behind your eyes. "Yeah, I have, and none of them were-" you hesitated, "None of them looked like-" You swore under your breath when your voice betrayed you.

"Your Loki?"

Mobius' quiet words got you closing your eyes, there was compassion in his voice, being one of the only people here who really knew what you've been through. A long sigh escaped your lips, along with some of the anger, leaving room only for the emptiness that has been following you around for years now.

"Is he?" You were afraid to know, but you asked anyway.

"He was going to be," Mobius took a step closer to you, and this time you allowed him to rest a hand on your shoulder, his thumb brushing against the fabric of your dress shirt. "He came from your timeline, roughly after his attempt at taking over earth."

An unamused chuckle escaped your lips and a single tear ran down your cheek, but you were quick to wipe it away. "Jesus, Mobius. You can't be serious." You looked him straight in the eyes then, voice strained; "you can't be doing this to me."

"He insisted," Mobius raised both hands in front of his chest in a halfhearted attempt to calm you down. "He insisted, okay? He saw you in his file, he wanted to know who you were. What was I supposed to do? He saw you and didn't know who you were but it was clear that you were important, and he felt that too."

A beat of silence passed, and then; "I mean," Mobius chuckled softly, shaking his head; "you should have seen his eyes when he saw you, he looked worse than you do now."

You sniffled, avoiding your teary eyes from his gaze. "What were you supposed to do? Well, what about talking to me first, you oaf," you told him, though there was no malice in your words.

"I'm sorry," Mobius shrugged, not sure of what else he could say to you. "I just figured it wouldn't be fair to either of you if I didn't introduce you. Or, reintroduced you."

You doubted you'd be able to form a coherent thought in your mind right now with the amount of emotions you were going through. But you knew he was right, deep down you did. You just weren't sure what to make of it yet, seeing a Loki who would eventually become your Loki; who, essentially, was your Loki. Just not yet.

It nearly sent you into a panic attack. Seeing him again was all you ever wanted when you lost him, yet now that it's happening, you're not sure if you can handle it. Or if you still want it.

Mobius tried to find your gaze with his, and as if reading your mind, he said; "Isn't this what you wanted when you first got here? To see him again?"

"That's not me anymore, Mobius," you spoke before you could stop yourself. "I'm- I'm not that person anymore." Your voice was quiet, muffled behind the walls you'd built around your wounded heart. "Besides, that's-" You stumbled over your words, tasting your tears on the corner of your lips, "that's not him. That's not the Loki I knew."

"How can you say that, you didn't even speak to the guy," Mobius gestured to Loki's general direction outside of the storage room.

"Yeah well, I don't have to!" You snapped, and closed your mouth soon after, mumbling an apology. "I just- He's not him," you said quieter, almost as if saying it again and again would make it true.

"Maybe not yet," Mobius reasoned, pursing his lips as he mulled over unsaid words; "But he is, otherwise he wouldn't have seen his future with you. You know that."

You buried your hands in the pockets of your pants because you could feel how heavily they were shaking. You bit your lip until you tasted blood. "I can't. I'm sorry, Mobius, but I can't. You tell him I want nothing to do with him." The words rolled off your tongue quickly and strained, you didn't give Mobius time to answer you before you were shoving open the door of the storage room and rushing outside.

From the side of your eyes, as you walked, you noticed Loki leaning against one of the file shelves. He perked up when he saw you, straightening his posture and softening his gaze as he took half a step towards you.

You didn't spare him a second glance before turning your back to him and hurrying to the opposite way.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 4 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Loki’s taglist: @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @justaproudslytherpuff @justanotherkpopstanlol @chronicallybubbly @chaoticqueen33 @7minutes-tomidnight @uncle-eggy @oliviaewl @dd122004dd @tani725 @lokihaha34 @levanneisdumb @innebulae @mochminnie @mayemperess @alyeskathewave @buginktsworld @cremebruleequeen @wyvernthekriger @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avengersfan25 @mischief2sarawr @yokolesbianism @athenasproverbs @h-l-vlovesvintage @princess-ofthe-pages @daisy-the-quake @talesofadragon @rainbowsocks @alexandra-001 @mary-jinx @stevenknightmarc @falconxsoldier @ladymercury8 @shirukitsune @ladymischief11 @starkzdaughter

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki #marvel #loki series #loki x you #marvel x reader #loki x female reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #what once was mine #loki fanfic #my story #loki laufeyson x reader

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tomriddleslove · 12 days

Text

Obliviate.

✩ Mattheo Riddle x Reader angst

Summary: The one where tensions are running higher, and everyone has to pick a side. You promised to stick by one another, but a stupid oath you made when you first met threatens to drive that apart. Alternatively: If you love her, then you have to let her go.

A/N: If you don’t listen to the recommended song when reading this i will fight you 🤺🤺

Song: Goodbye - Billie Eilish

The Daily Prophet

Unrest Brews as Dark Forces Loom

By Rita Skeeter

In a disturbing turn of events, Diagon Alley was rocked by an unprecedented attack last night, sending shockwaves throughout the wizarding community. Witnesses reported seeing a group of hooded figures, suspected to be Death Eaters, descending upon the famous magical thoroughfare with malicious intent.

The Flourish and Blotts bookstore bore the brunt of the assault, with its windows shattered and shelves overturned. Several nearby shops, including Ollivanders Wand Shop and Eeylops Owl Emporium, also sustained significant damage.

"I've never seen anything like it," said Horace Slughorn, a retired Potions Master who happened to be in the area during the attack. "It was pure pandemonium. People were running for cover, spells flying everywhere. It was like a scene out of the darkest days of the last wizarding war."

Ministry of Magic officials were quick to respond to the scene, deploying Aurors and members of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol to contain the situation. However, the attackers managed to evade capture, leaving behind a trail of destruction and instilling fear in the hearts of many.

The Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, condemned the attack in the strongest terms, vowing to apprehend those responsible and bring them to justice.

"We will not tolerate such brazen acts of violence in our society," Minister Shacklebolt declared in a statement issued this morning. "The Ministry is fully committed to ensuring the safety and security of all witches and wizards, and we will spare no effort in our pursuit of these criminals."

The attack on Diagon Alley serves as a grim reminder of the growing threat posed by Voldemort's followers, who have been emboldened in recent months by reports of their dark lord's rumoured return. With tensions running high and fear gripping the wizarding world, many are left wondering what the future holds in this time of uncertainty.

You frown as you observe Mattheo, watching as he tosses the paper down onto the table in front of you with a huff. The tension in his face has become increasingly evident over the past few weeks, and you've begun to forget what Mattheo looks like when he isn't frowning.

You wrap your arms around his arm, leaning in close to him as you speak quietly.

“Hey. It’s alright,” You reassure, pressing a light kiss to his shoulder. He doesn’t tear his gaze away from the fireplace, a small huff of both frustration and amusement escaping his lips as he clenches his jaw, nodding.

“It’s alright.” He scoffs, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

It’s alright? No, it wasn’t alright. His father was a murderous lunatic who was about to trigger the second wizarding war. He had to sit back and watch his own friend get tortured for hours for failing to complete a task. He can't close his eyes without seeing Theodore writhing in pain on the floor.

Mattheo was expected to fight with them. The time would come, that was for certain. Mattheo would have to stand there, and raise his wand against the people he's shared a dorm with and sat in class with.

Hell, he would be expected to raise his wand against you.

“They always say this, Mattheo. They’ve been saying it for years, and nothing has happened.” You say, but even you can see how pathetic it sounds. Despite your efforts to comfort him, it's clear that his mind is elsewhere, consumed by the looming threat of war and the impossible choices he may soon be forced to make.

Mattheo finally tears his gaze away from the fireplace, his eyes meeting yours. Your breath hitches, the sheer look of sorrow in his eyes enough to shatter your heart into a million little pieces.

"I don't want to drag you into this," he confesses, his voice raw with emotion. "You deserve better than to be caught up in my mess."

Your heart sinks as you realize where this conversation is headed. "Mattheo, please," you plead, the fear in your voice palpable, "don't do this. Don't shut me out."

But he shakes his head, his expression pained. "I have to," he whispers, his voice barely audible. "Remember our promise?"

Mattheo looks up when he sees you sit next to him, a wide grin on your face as you unpack your bag.

He had seen you here and there in the common room. You always seemed to have an impossibly bright smile, far too lovely for the gloominess of Slytherin.

“Riddle.” You hum with a small grin, and he can't help but let a small smile tug at his lips as he looks over at you.

“What's wrong? You’re looking at me as though I’ve grown another head” You tease as you sit down next to him .

Mattheo blinks in surprise as you address him, the warmth of your smile catching him off guard. He's used to being treated with caution and apprehension, especially given his family's reputation and his own reserved demeanor. But your easy manner and genuine curiosity leave him feeling strangely disarmed.

"Nothing's wrong, just lost in thought, I suppose," he replies, a hint of amusement in his voice as he watches you unpack your bag. Despite himself, he can't help but feel a sense of curiosity about you, wondering what it is that draws you to him when so many others keep their distance.

-•-

“Please-” Mattheo pleads in frustration, slamming the door shut behind him as he storms through the empty common room. You follow after him briskly, slamming the door that separates the common room from the dorms closed with a flick of your wand as you corner him.

“What do you mean, please?” You snap, frowning at him.

“Stop-” He says, his movements exasperated as he motions between the two of you “- this! Stop trying to be friends with me! It’s for your own good.” He says, looking up at you.

You let out a dry laugh, a mix of amusement and frustration as you shove him lightly.

“Oh fuck off. So you can kiss me and spend every evening with me but when it suits you we are just friends. You don't get to decide what’s good for me, Mattheo. I choose what I do and who I associate with, and if that hurts me then so fucking be it.” You retort harshly. Mattheo goes to interject but you cut him off.

“No! You don't get to choose when you want to be with me. I want you, Mattheo. All of you. I couldn’t give two flying shits about who your father is, or who you associate with. I'm capable of making my own decisions.”

He remains silent, his expression torn between turmoil and guilt, as your words hang heavy in the air between you. You feel slightly guilty for your outburst and your expression softens, reaching out to hold his hand gently as you speak.

"You know, if you really think it's that dangerous for me to be around you, you could always just obliviate me. Make me forget about you completely."You quip, trying to lighten the mood

For a moment, Mattheo's shock gives way to a burst of laughter, the tension in the room dissipating as he shakes his head in disbelief. "You're impossible," he says, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

-•-

You pull back from Mattheo, shaking your head. “No. No, that was a joke.” You stammer, but he turns to you.

“It wasn’t. We spoke about it afterwards. You promised me.” Mattheo says, sternly.

You know he’s right. You only agreed because the idea seemed so laughable. But now it was a reality, and you could see the hurt and disappointment in Mattheo's eyes.

Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to find the right words, the weight of everything crashing down on you like a ton of bricks. "I love you, Mattheo," you say, more of a plea than anything else. He draws you into him, a strong arm wrapping around you tightly, as though he is scared to let you go. His hand cups the back of your head, pulling your head down to rest on his shoulder as he kisses the top of your head.

“I know. I love you too. That's why we have to.” He murmurs, trying his hardest to not let his voice break.

-•-

It’s not fair.

It wasn’t fucking fair.

Mattheo had just found it. Found his reason for living. Found his reason to keep going when all the odds were stacked against him. You were the air he breathed, the light that lit his life up and the tender hand that soothed him. You were his everything, and you had to be snatched away from him.

He gently raps on the door to your dorm, just to let you know he was about to enter before cracking the door open. You hastily scramble, shoving the book you were writing with under your pillow as you spot Mattheo.

He notices but he doesn't say a thing, no, he can't. Because in a few minutes, it would be as though he never existed to you. He couldn't tell what would have hurt more, you not being able to see him, or you not even knowing who he was. You’d hold his heart in your hands, unknowingly, and he would be nothing but a stranger.

“Not in here, Please, not in here.” You breathe out, your words hitching in your throat as you fight back tears. He nods wordlessly, taking a step back.

“No one’s in the common room. I’ll uh- go there.” He murmurs, his voice hollow and empty as he turns to leave, unable to bear the thought of facing you for what may be the last time.

As he makes his way down to the common room, every step heavier than the last, he can't shake the feeling of emptiness that gnaws at his insides. It's like a void, swallowing him whole and leaving nothing behind but a hollow shell of the person he used to be.

He finds a seat in the furthermost corner, where you both usually sat, facing the fireplace. He watches the embers crackle and dance, not even noticing your presence till you slide up into the seat next to him. He wants to avert his gaze when he sees the tears in your eyes, but instead, he reaches up.

His hands were shaking. Why were they shaking?

He wipes a stray tear from your cheek.

“My wand. Let me go uh-” He blurts , quickly getting up as he looks away. He blinks back tears as he hurries up the stairs. Instead of going up to his dorm, however, he sneaks into yours.

He walks over to your bed, pulling back your pillow. Sure enough, the small book you were so desperate to conceal from Mattheo was there. He looks around and then with a small huff, tucks it into his back pocket. He hurries back downstairs.

Returning to the common room, he sits back down next to you, his hand reaching out to gently intertwine with yours as you sit together in silence. For a while, you don't say anything. You fear that speaking will break this small bubble, where time has frozen and you can just enjoy your last moments together.

As Mattheo gently cups your face, his touch trembling with the weight of what's to come, he feels the soft dampness of your tears against his fingertips. Your eyes, filled with sorrow and pleading, search his for some semblance of reassurance, some sign that this isn't the end.

"I can't do this," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, his heart breaking with every word. "I can't lose you. You mean everything to me. I’m so scared"

Your sobs fill the air around you, the sound like a knife to Mattheo's heart as he struggles to hold back his own tears. He leans in, pressing his lips against yours in a tender, bittersweet kiss, savouring the taste of your lips one last time before it's all gone.

“I love you.” Is all you can muster. It’s pathetic, but it hurts to even think about anything.

You cling to him desperately, your fingers tangling in his hair as though trying to anchor yourself to the present. Mattheo feels a lump form in his throat, the weight of his decision pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket, but he knows that he has to do this. For your own safety, for your own sake, he has to let you go.

His forehead presses against yours, taking in every last moment of intimacy he’s granted. You don't open your eyes, and he's grateful, for he doesn't think he could bear to look you in the eye.

“Obliviate.”

The second after he murmurs the words he stumbles away from you, reeling backwards as though your touch has burnt him. You wouldn't remember a thing about him, not even his name. He couldn’t be close to you anymore.

Mattheo watches as you blink, confusion clouding your features as you try to make sense of your surroundings. You look around the room, your eyes scanning the familiar surroundings with a sense of bewilderment, and for a moment, Mattheo's heart clenches with the hope that maybe, just maybe, you'll remember him. But deep down, he knows that it's futile, that the spell has already taken effect, erasing every trace of him from your mind.

You shake your head slightly, as if trying to clear the fog from your thoughts, before turning and heading up to your bed. Mattheo watches you go, his heart breaking with every step you take away from him, knowing that he can never follow.

But then, just as you reach the top of the stairs, you pause, your gaze flickering back to where Mattheo stands in the corner of the room. And in that moment, you give him a small, absentminded smile, the kind of smile you might give to a passing stranger.

Mattheo's heart lurches in his chest at the sight of your smile. He wants to call out to you, to tell you who he is, to beg you to remember him, but he knows that it's pointless. You're gone, lost to him forever, and there's nothing he can do to change that.

As you disappear, he collapses down onto the sofa, He wants to sob, and for a second he thinks he is, a horrible restictive choking feeling in his throat as he looks down at the floor. He reaches into his pocket, fingers fumbling with the small black book, perhaps the last piece of you he’d truly have.

He finds the most recent entry and wipes away the tears that blur his vision as he begins to read.

Don't be alarmed when you see this. I want you to read every word of this carefully. This is you, that is writing. It is the 26th of June, 1996. You might have felt like you’ve woken up in the common room, feeling a bit disoriented.

You were obliviated. And it was your idea.

When you were that annoying, pestering little kid, you had taken it upon yourself to befriend a boy called Mattheo Riddle. You’ll see him over the next few days, perhaps. He might look at you as though it hurts him to. It most definitely does. He’s devastatingly handsome, with the softest brown curls and the most expressive eyes. I do believe you won't need me to describe him. Really, my love for him is so strong I doubt any sort of obliviate can erase the idea that Mattheo Riddle lives within the recesses of your heart. Everyone had warned you of how dangerous he was, how his father was rumoured to be the Dark Lord and that he was bound to be no good. But you, in your true Slytherin ambition, set out on a mission to befriend him.

And you fell in love. It was impossible not to, really.

He is everything to me. He was everything to you. He is the most brilliant boy I’ve known. Far too many people gave up on him early. He’s beyond just being incredibly intelligent. He feels. And that’s rarer than you might believe. For someone who was subjected to such horrible things growing up, he is tender. Do not let his bruised knuckles and split lips fool you.

Now, more than ever, he will struggle. He believes you are fully not aware of him. But with this, I hope you are.

Be there for him. Do not tell him about this. You were awfully good at forcing your way into people's lives. Do that for him now. Make him think it was a coincidence. Be there for him, and don’t let his stubbornness fool you. Merlin knows he will be stubborn. He is simply scared, and you mustn’t let that deter you.

People will often compare their lovers to the sun. Bright, warm, near perfect. Mattheo is the moon, casting a gentle glow in the darkness, guiding you through the night. He may not shine as brightly as the sun, but his presence is no less mesmerizing, no less essential.

You had always preferred the moon more, anyway.

Take care of him.

You stupid girl. You stupid, selfish girl.

Mattheo's hands tremble as he reads the letter, his heart constricting with every word, every line. It's like a knife to his heart, the pain of knowing that even in a situation like this, you still found a way to look after him, to care for him, to love him.

Tears blur his vision as he reads on, each word cutting deeper than the last. The book, filled with pages of recollections of the time they spent together, feels like a cruel reminder of everything he's lost, everything he can never get back.You had nearly filled the whole book, addressed to yourself with worries and letters in the hopes of getting your obliviated mind to fall back in love with Mattheo. To remember him, and to negate the whole idea of obliviating yourself by leaving this book for your future self.

And you did all of this just because you wanted to look after him.

It hurts to breathe, to even entertain the idea of going to bed tonight knowing that the love of his life sees him as nothing but a stranger. And in his hands, he holds the thing that could do the impossible, that could somehow reverse it all.

The very selfish part of him wants you to see the book. He wants to slip upstairs, and hide it back under your pillow, and let you find the words you addressed to yourself.

But he couldn’t. He could die far more happily knowing he’s not leaving you behind, no. Really, you were never his, the two of you forcing destiny in the opposite direction, living on borrowed time. Now he has to face the consequences of it all, and if he can stop you bearing the brunt of it, then he’s made no mistake.

He places the book down on the table, and doesn’t think twice about his actions.

“Incendio.”

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom riddle #harry potter #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys fic #theodore nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle x you

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fever-fluff · 6 months

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Home

Azriel is lost, and cannot seem to find his way home, and it's tearing him apart

word count: 1.1k

Part II

Azriel is spiralling. He had convinced himself he was of equal standing with his brothers, but the past few years has proven otherwise. Three sisters for three brothers, that was what he had convinced himself of, and had seemed to be what Elain had wanted. But the bond he was so convinced was wrong, the bond he was so sure that would break apart as soon as the Cauldron had realised its mistake and weaved one between the two of them instead, never waivered.

And now, he sits opposite that of the woman he is so sure he loves, is the one from him, as she rips his already fractured heart in two. She's crying, and there's no part of Azriel that finds any satisfaction in it, no matter how much he wishes he could. She is the one doing this, choosing Lucien over her. But he cannot blame her.

For a time, they seemed to be happy, even if there were those around him that didn't approve. Lucien had accepted Elain's choice without anger or betrayal, and had wished she could find the happiness in Azriel that she could not seem to find in him.

It was Rhysand and Cassian, the males he called his brothers for centuries now, who had been angry for Lucien. Both of them understood a pain like that - both having to watch as their mates found solace outside their arms for a while.

it had taken weeks of coaxing from Nesta and Feyre for them to even look at him, but whether it was for their sister's benefit or his, he wasn't so sure.

Days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, and Azriel found himself the happiest he had ever felt, but it seemed the ever observant spymaster began to miss details. He lost himself in that feeling, not realising the person he found it in was not following down the same path.

It had taken Elain five years to admit her mistake, nothing in the eyes of a fae's long lifespan, but to Azriel he felt like he'd lost centuries.

And now, he watches the world he so sorely craved crumble at his feet with a measly few words.

"I'm sorry, Azriel.... I've hurt so many people because of this. I wanted someone who never should have been mine, while carelessly leaving the male made for me behind."

Azriel had thought his heart had cracked all those years ago when he realised he'd never have Mor in the way he wanted to, but he felt it now. That large, hollow crack that vibrated down the very centre, tearing every string that had slowly began to knit itself together without caring if he could ever mend it again.

He couldn't hear the rest of what Elain said over the cotton in his ears, didn't rise to see her out as she got up and left through the door.

He knows, he knows Lucien hasn't done this, that this is purely Elain's choice. The youngest Vanserra hasn't been seen since Elain had chosen Azriel, off on the continent somewhere with no contact and no sign of ever coming back.

his shadows swirl around him, the thickest they'd been in months. They had never truly gotten used to Elain's presence, and her timidness towards them had Azriel sending them off without a care if it had made her more comfortable. Now, the wrap around him, twisting and turning as if trying to find the ache that their master seemingly has, but finding no open wound.

He takes whatever comfort he can find in them. His shadows have been the only thing that has ever truly been his, no fear of someone ever taking them away from him, being better than him. He is the Night court's Shadowsinger, there is no one else who can fill that role.

And so, Azriel grasps onto that thread and tugs so hard it will either break or rip his hand where it sits. Rhysand cannot find enough problems for him to fix, Cassian refuses to spar more than usual, and his spies have begun to disappear when he is around, leaving their findings in reports he pours over meticulously. He's barely eating, most definitely not sleeping, but he hasn't had to feel the affects of what had happened with Elain.

It's only a matter of time when it fails, Fae are strong, but not indefinitely. It isn't when everyone expects it though.

if not for Cassian, who had watched his brother go down like a rock does when dropped into a pool of water, steady and unmoving, no one would have seen the spymaster hit the treeline so hard they'd ripped his wings to shreds as they lay spread out and lax.

Had waking up been optional, Azriel would have decided against it. Rhysand looked at him with so much pity in his eyes that he had to turn away, Feyre sat at his window, refusing to even acknowledge he was awake.

"You're on leave indefinitely, you're no help to yourself, never mind the rest of us, in the state you're in." Rhysand's words had cut him deeply. His mind swirling as he realised he wasn't good enough to hold the position he'd cherished for centuries. But what could he say against it unless he tried to lie? So he remained silent, eyes downcast as Rhysand went on.

"I'm sending you to the continent, away from -" he didn't need to finish. "With Mor's work, we've made a few connections, and you can stay and figure out for yourself what you need to do."

Azriel looked to Feyre, who had finally moved from the window and stood close to the side of his bed, beside her mate. "Az, please understand, we're worried for you, and this could do you some good."

He scoffed. They had each other to lean on, he had no one - never had anyone to call home. And now they were sending him away from the one place he could pretend to feel like it was. He'd lost the female he loved, and had now lost everything that made him who he was. Why should he even bother...

But the look on Rhysand's face told him he'd order it if it came to it. His brother may always wish those he loved had a choice, but he was still High Lord first, and what Azriel was doing wasn't something he could let slip without repercussions.

He'd go to the continent, spend however long necessary it took to convince his family that he was fit to come back, and he'd hide the despair better. Hide from them all and spend whatever time he could with them before it consumed him whole.

#azriel shadowsinger #acotar #feyre archeron #rhysand #azriel angst #azriel spymaster #feysand #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #elain archeron #azriel acotar #azriel x reader

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mmoonpies · 1 year

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hii can you please do were rowan is stressed so reader climbs on his lap pulls his dick on rides him slowly and rowan is just whimpering and moaning and reader is pulling his hair slightly and rowan is calling her mommy<33🐶- anon

thank you so much for this request! i had so much fun writing this ngl <3

warnings: riding, mummy kink, smut, 18+, hair pulling, lowkey spit kink, fingers in mouth, one slap, submissive rowan, dom!reader

unedited!!

rowan's dormitory sat still; his bed sheets completely untouched and tucked in neatly at the corners. his spare glasses case and asthma puffer sat upright on his bedside table, sitting next to a few other trinkets he had organised neatly.

you carefully observed his room, trying to not disturb anything while standing there, waiting for him to return. you could tell he was a little bit more 'off' lately - something had been eating at him, causing him to show up unattended at your dorm room, seeking your comfort.

the door swings open all of a sudden, causing you to almost jump out of your skin as your head snaps towards the source of the noise. rowan is standing in the doorway, his eyes slightly wide as his body trembles ever so slightly.

"y/n i, uh, i..." he stumbles over his words, eyebrows creasing as he quickly shuts the door behind him. "I didn't expect you to be here, did I um scare you?"

"no, no, it's okay!" you offer him a gentle smile before walking over to him, immediately taking in his slightly dishevelled appearance. his shirt was slightly ruffled and untucked, his face flushed pink and covered with a slight sheen of sweat. "hey, are you okay?"

his breath is heavy as he avoids your gaze, his hands running through his hair, stray strands of hair falling out from his neatly parted hair. rowan is desperately trying to gather his thoughts, his forehead creasing as his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose.

"yeah...i'm just uh, thinking," he bluntly answers, offering you a thin-lipped smile before walking past you towards his desk. you furrow your eyebrows, lips creasing into a scowl at his behaviour as you follow quickly behind him.

you stand slightly behind him, hovering around him as you figure out how to approach him. you could tell he was hardly in the mood to talk, practically having tunnel vision as he preoccupied himself by frantically searching through his drawers.

your eyes widen in surprise as he pulls out a thick hard-cover book, thudding it against the desk as his fingers tentatively run over the cover. he flips through the pages before landing on one; the pages are a yellowish brownish colour from being aged, with a drawing of a girl standing in front of a burning well scribbled across it.

"woah, rowan, what is that?"

rowan's shoulders tense before he practically slams it shut, his hands gripping his hair as he leans over his desk, shaking his head slightly.

"i don't know." he simply states before erratically pulling his hands away from his hair, and looking over at you. "I've been trying to figure it out for weeks, but i can't when people are constantly breathing down my neck."

your eyebrows furrow as a small enraged smile stretches across your lips, arms crossing over your chest. you understand that whatever this book is must mean something to him for him to be fixating it over like this and acting so erratic lately, but, you were only trying to help.

your fists clench before you drop your arms back down, letting out a small sigh. you take a step forward, pushing the book away with one hand as your other threads through his hair gently. you can feel the shiver roll through his body at the contact.

"rowan, we can figure it out together later, yeah?" your voice is gentle as you wrap a leg around his furthest leg before sitting down on his lap, smiling at him. he moves his gaze from the book to look at you, hidden desperation pooled in the back of his brown hues. your hands travel down to his chest, fingers splayed out against his dress shirt. "it'll be okay, i promise."

he sighs gently, head resting against your shoulder as his arms wrap around your waist. your hands slowly begin to roam over his body, teasingly running over his thighs before smoothing up his back. you can feel the tension in his muscles, his back tight with stress as his shoulders tense even more under your touch. you move your hands to cup his cheek, lifting his head up from your shoulder so you can look at him.

"you're so tense, do you want me to help you to relax? i can make you feel better," you offer has a sense of mischievousness to it as your eyes glimmer with a sense of playfulness. he gives you a weak smile, fingers nervously tracing shapes into your hips as he nods shyly.

you hum in response, re-adjusting your hips over his lap before slowly beginning to gyrate your hips against him. he sucks in a quick breath out of surprise, hands nervously pulling away from your hips. you giggle before gripping his wrists, placing his hands back onto your hips as you roll your hips harder against him.

his cheeks grow warm as he can only watch nervously, his throat bobbing as he swallows harshly. his eyes quickly avert to look at his desk, to the floor, then back to you. he can't help but feel slightly ashamed as he can feel his blood flooding down towards his cock as your hips grind down against him.

your hands slide down his chest before landing just below his waistband, fingers sliding down to grip the zipper. you could feel the bulge straining against the material, his half-hard cock warm and heavy against your hand.

a strained whimper leaves his lips, throat lurching as he catches himself, fingers digging into your hipbones. you press a kiss to his cheek as your fingers unzip his pants before unbuttoning them and gently gripping the bulge hidden beneath his boxers.

his throat tightens as he lets out a sharp breath, his grip growing tighter as you slowly begin to slide his boxers down, just enough to be able to grip his bare cock. he lets out a shuddery breath, eyes closing as you wrap your hand around the base.

you can feel his cock stiffen just from your touch, causing a sense of pride to bloom in your chest. you gather the spit in your mouth before spitting on his cock with a small 'puh' sound. rowan leans his head back, gulping before a quiet moan leaves his mouth.

you use your spit as a lubricant, stroking his cock as you stare up at him through your eyelashes. it only makes him even more nervous - his hands leaving your waist to try and cover his eyes and face, his blush growing and darkening by the second.

you raise your hips a little as he keeps his face covered, a coy smirk playing on your lips as you use your free hand to slide your panties to the side. you hover over him, lining yourself up as you keep a firm grip on the base of his cock. you press the tip against your clenching entrance before sinking down onto his cock, ripping a loud cry from the back of rowan's throat. his hands leave his face to grip the armrests of the chair as he slightly curls in on himself, breathing heavily just from the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around his pulsing cock.

you hardly give him a moment to recover before you slowly begin to gyrate your hips against him, hands resting over his collarbones to support yourself. he lets out a broken breath mixed with a slight whine at the feeling, leaning his head back against the chair.

his bare cock, thick and warm inside you, throbs as you deliberately clench around him, his hips bucking up into you in response as you both let out quiet moans. you slide your hands up to grip his defined shoulders before speeding your pace up, grinding your hips harder against him.

his eyes shut at the sensation of your cunt sucking his cock in further, your hip bones hitting his as your pace grows faster, his hands moving to grip your hips desperately, his thumbs sliding down to sit above your hipbones.

he opens his mouth to say something, but he loses the words in his throat as you lift yourself up slightly before slamming your hips down against his. you let out a breathy laugh, watching as he tries to bite back his moans.

"where'd all that attitude go, rowan? hm?" you mock him as one of your hands slides up from his shoulder, fingers threading between the hairs on the crook of his neck. you grip them and tug downwards, forcing his head back even further as you stare down at him. "answer me, rowan."

your tone is laced with authority as you try to not let the sensation of his cock throbbing in between your bare walls affecting you, teeth sinking into your lower lip to bite back the moans bubbling in your throat.

"please, please, please," he stutters out before moaning again as your cunt clenches around him. "I didn't- I- mummy, please."

he can hardly form a sentence at the feeling, whimpering as you continue to roll your hips against him. you show a bit of mercy as you slow down, making your strokes even deeper as your force his cock deeper inside of you.

your grip on his hair grows tighter as you pull it further back, causing rowan to whimper at the feeling as he opens his mouth to say something. you interrupt him as your other hand slides two finger's into his mouth, pressing down against his tongue.

he moans at the sensation before closing his mouth, hollowing his cheeks out slightly as he sucks on your fingers. you can feel his tongue slither over your digits, his eyes wide and needy as he stares at you, seeking approval.

you chuckle lightly before slowing your hips down even further while simultaneously pulling your fingers out of his mouth. your hand straightens as you raise your arm slightly, swinging your arm around to salp rowan's cheek.

his face forcefully turns to the side at the force, a sharp stinging sensation spreading across his cheek at the contact. he relishes the feeling, the pain making tingles spread over his body while his cock twitches inside of you.

his eyes are even wider with shock as he turns to look back at you, only for your fingers to be shoved back into his mouth. his head is reeling at the overwhelming sensations, the feeling of warm heat pooling in the bottom of his stomach.

"i asked where all of your attitude went, rowan." your voice is commanding and laced with venom, eyes narrowing down at him. he was foolish to think you'd let him get away with snapping at you.

"i'm sorry, i-i didn't mean it," he whines, voice muffled around your fingers. "please, mummy, I'm sorry for being rude."

his voice is whiny and can only be described as pure sluttiness - desperation and neediness leaking from his tongue as you pull your fingers away, satisfied with his response. a string of saliva connects your fingers to his pink lips.

his breath is laboured, eyes blown out as he stares up at you, his lips red and slightly swollen as he pants. you smile down at him before letting go of his hair, gripping back onto his shoulder as you begin to roll your hips again.

you slowly begin to bounce on his cock before gradually speeding up the pace, letting out breathy moans as you watch rowan lose himself to the pleasure. his hands are needy - clinging to whatever skin he can as he constantly switches between gripping your hips and waist. his whines and moans are getting louder as your cunt squeezes around him.

"fuck, y/n," he pants out, fingernails digging crescent moons into your skin, his back arching as his hips thrust deeper into you, cock sinking into your tight, warm walls. "more...please, more."

your bounces grow faster, trying to take in more of his cock as you continuously gyrate your hips against him, mouth open as you let out quiet moans. rowan's almost stuck in a trance as he stares down at where your bodies are connected, watching as his cock slides out of you before forcing its way back in, nestling between your tight walls.

any previous memories about what happened before he came back to his dorm are long gone, being fucked out of him as the heat in his stomach grows hotter, more prominent. his hand reaches to grab one of yours, leading it towards the back of his head.

"please, mummy" he whispers. "pull it.'

"so demanding," you giggle as your fingers thread through the loose strands of brown hair, keeping a firm grip on it as you only slightly tug at his hair. "ask nicely and I'll consider it."

he can feel his orgasm growing closer, his cock only growing harder at your torment. another pained whine falls from his lips, eyes fluttering shut briefly as he tries to focus on being good for you, trying to distract himself from the feeling of your cunt wrapped tightly around his cock.

"can you, please...can you pull-" he cuts himself off with another loud whine as you sink further down his cock. "please pull my hair, mommy, please, i wanna cum!"

you let out a small sigh of pleasure as your walls squeezed almost impossibly tighter around his bare cock, the heat of your bodies being connected making your head spin. you can feel your own orgasm creeping up, the thread holding you together growing thinner and thinner.

you ignore his pleas as you continue to roll your hips against him faster, searching for your own orgasm. his hips subconsciously buck up into you, forcing his cock even further inside of you. your stomach tightens while your hips tense, the grip on rowan's hair subconsciously growing tighter.

without warning, you yank his hair down, his back arching and head being forced backwards as his orgasm suddenly comes crashing down upon him. it almost feels like a brick to the stomach as he cries out your name, body tense and quivering as warmth floods through your cunt.

you call out his name, cunt squeezing tightly around him, pulsating as your own orgasm runs through your body, a hot white flashing past your eyes. your hips slow as you let both of you ride out your orgasms, heavy breaths being forced from your chests as you both bask in the afterglow.

you lean against his chest after letting go of his hair, the same hand rubbing over the back of his head to soothe his scalp. you let the two of you catch your breath for a moment for breaking your silence.

"i didn't hurt you, did i?|" you cautiously ask your fingernails soothingly running over his neck and shoulders. he shakes his head, his head still spinning and lightheaded as the aftershocks of his orgasm begin to settle in.

"sorry for getting mad.." he whispers an apology before looking up at you, his eyes slightly out of focus still. yet, he smiles up at you, pressing a shy kiss to your cheek. "thank you..for um, this."

"anytime, rowan."

#rowan laslow x reader #rowan laslow smut #rowan laslow x reader smut #rowan laslow #.requests

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hellenhighwater · 11 months

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I had a look through your posts but I couldn't find anything... I was just wondering if you could share some advice on training cats, particularly in the realm of "not eating plants" and "not scratching things that aren't theirs" ? I'm getting a kitten next week and, while excited, I am also nervous as I've had some pretty destructive cats in the past...

Thank you in advance!

I can really only speak to what worked for me. I'm sure there will be more updates when the Interlopers come home--they currently are still at the shelter for a liiiiitle more observation.

When I brought Mal and Vice home, I babyproofed my bedroom. Nothing they could break, nothing they could damage--no surfaces they weren't allowed on, nothing they could hurt by clawing. And for the first few weeks, that is the ONLY room they were in. I don't know if stockholm syndrome is an option for cats, but they both have it now; we bonded. As they got settled and we built trust, I started bringing them out into other areas of the house, always under observation. When I (or a housemate) wasn't there to keep an eye on them, they just were put back in safe home base bedroom. The goal is to establish a positive relationship far enough that a no! won't send them hiding from you.

This is Vice in the living room for the first time.

The thing with cats is that they'll break a rule if they think you're not there to enforce it. So you have to be there, always, for long enough that the good behavior becomes a habit before they're left on their own. So as they moved into other areas of the house, the no! was always enforced when they started to do a naughty, and they learned to not even try because they'd get caught immediately. Eventually they had more and more run of the house, and were finally just left on their own. This means consistency and patience from you, and from everyone in your household. And that doesn't stop--you get in the base of this when they first come home, but you have to continue to consistently enforce forever. That's the deal. Their brains are itty bitty and full of mischief, and sometimes they're going to push boundaries because they can.

There's also some steps you should take to just cat-proof in general. Smooth river rocks in the top of any diggable pot; toxic plants relocated or removed, and furniture that might be particularly scratchable protected with throw blankets over the arms...you get the idea. Part of it is training, and part of it is creating an environment where they're not being tempted.

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jmdbjk · 5 months

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Looking back and forward.

2023 was one for the books.

It is Thursday, Dec. 7 where I am... Friday, Dec. 8 in Korea.

It is the last Friday for Namjoon, Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook to be civilians. This is their last weekend to spend in their homes, at the company to work, running along the river, doing boxing workouts, ordering delivery food, loving on their dogs, doing the things they've been doing the last over ten years. It will be about 100 days until they get time off and can maybe spend some time back at home.

They are tying up loose ends, getting their shit together, preparing to put their lives on hold.

They will return to us in mid-June 2025.

I've watched their last group live several times after the english subs were up. There were a lot of things I saw and I have a lot of mixed emotions about it all.

None of us know these men, we are observers and all we know is what they choose to show us. Unfortunately, they can't control every single thing and people and the media insist on prying and publishing images and things about them that lead to unconfirmed rumors and misinformation.

In the approximately 38 minutes they shared with us, they conveyed that they are getting ready to go, they seemed in positive spirits. They conveyed that they were still working on things for us (except Jungkook).

They said there was A LOT of content coming, so much... they've NEVER ever reassured us like this before.

They asked fans to NOT show up at the induction site out of respect for the other men and their families also entering the military those days. They explicitly said "we are their face and to do them proud."

During this live, I saw Tae being the fantastically funny guy that he is. Tae was alight with excitement. He was anxious to learn from his fellow soldiers. He is a flower waiting to bloom. And seeing his friendship with Jimin maturing, flourishing, same age friends forever was wonderful.

And Namjoon trying to keep up with the crazy shenanigans of the maknae line. Trying to be the voice of reason: "it'll go by quick, we've left a lot of content. Jin will be back soon. We'll all get strong." But there seemed to be a bit of push and pull between he and Jimin... it was interesting. But he was lighthearted, positive, going into with an open mind. Get in, get out, get back to work.

Jimin, Jimin, Jimin... There was a bit of resignation wrapped up in Jimin's positivity. He wouldn't agree that it would go by fast and he didn't want to show himself with the buzz cut. I wanted to reach through the screen and hold his hand and reassure him we'd be here waiting and that we know it's hard to leave everything right now to do this. This man lives to do work on his passion. He's already had to stop once. Now he has to do it again. I think he is going into his MS kicking and screaming because he does not want to leave his youth behind. It is unfinished.

He said he had been sick. He coughed, sneezed and sniffled the entire live. I hope all of these symptoms have disappeared by Monday/Tuesday. I remember his friend Sungwoon had to delay his enlistment date because he tested positive for covid. Please don't let that happen to any of our four.

During this last group live, I saw a Jungkook that I'd never seen before. His vibe was so in tune to Jimin. I know he's been that way since... 2017? 2018? But this was so in your face I was dumbfounded. Jungkook constantly soothing Jiminie. The things they probably talked about while they were in Japan a few weeks ago, man, to be a fly on the wall.

ALL of those lives he did this past year flashed through my head, how unhinged he was the first few months, falling asleep drunk with the candle, calling out stalkers. ALL those times WE said he was missing Jimin because he was begging him to come eat chicken and drink beer, or come do a boxing workout, or better yet, "let me come over and we can shower together..." No... I meant to say: he can go over to Jimin's and wash up and do a live together. Yes, that's what he said. Beggged him. Tried to use Army as leverage. And all we got was Jimin saying he "can handle it" and "you know how my personality is"...

Jungkook watching all that Jimin content... something happened, some decision was made early in the year. Jungkook embraced it and ran with it.

And to know they are going into the service together, it still has me astonished but it all makes sense now. Y'all... they knew they were going to do this wayyyyyy back, not just in August or September when they applied. Jungkook said back in February (before someone lit a fire under his butt in March to start working on music) that he had to take care of his body for the next year. This has been the plan and Jungkook said "no worries, I got this."

2023 was A LOT.

Jimin, Face: the melodies poured out (as they seem to be free-flowing from him at any given moment) but he had to pry those lyrics out of himself. Jimin achieved a #1 BBHot100. And yes, it appears there were not just one, but TWO of those blasted cakes. I didn't know much about PDogg before Jimin's documentary but now I know how much he supported Jimin during this process.

Yoongi, D-Day: I got to see Yoongi in real life. That weekend flew by for me. One of the best weekends ever. As soon as the concert was over I said out loud, I need to see all seven on that stage. His concert tour filled a void for us. We needed that so bad after last year's gut-wrenching news that there would be no tour. And now he's fulfilling his social service. Let him serve quietly with dignity.

Hobi, Military: after tearfully sending him off, what we hear now is he's cracking the whip, though ever-so empathetically (not to be confused with emphatically) over those new enlistees every day. I need to see his boom chakalaka marching drills. Jimin said when he visited Hobi, he wasn't greeted with his ebullient "Jaman!" but more of a lowkey "oh, you're here."

Jungkook, his solo songs and album: Jungkookie chose to go the route of choosing songs that resonated with him. Over the course of years, Kookie has always shared songs with us. We used to love his song recs and his covers of very poignant songs. He KILLED those songs with his vocals. He did what HE wanted to do. And look how well he did with it, also a #1 BBHot100.

Taehyung, Layover: again, Taehyung did what he wanted to do. Not on his album, but Taehyung singing along with Karen Carpenter was never on my bingo card, ever! (a clip on his Instagram stories where he was singing along to "Close to You")

RM, we kept wondering: why isn't he enlisted yet? Someone had to wrangle the maknae. Not that he ever did that this past year. He cut himself over his left eye and had to get stitches... that's gonna leave a scar. Good thing there are 40 bajillion plastic surgeons in Seoul...

Jin is coming. The Head of Ministry of the Military making the decision that no celeb will be doing anything special, instead they will serve just like regular civilians. Sergeant Kim Seokjin will become civilian Jin of BTS on June 12, 2024.

Their constant looking forward to 2025

Skipping over 2024 for the moment...

BTS has to evolve. They must evolve. They are not going to be a 30 something year old K-pop boy band. Some groups might be stuck but BTS will not stay stagnant, they never have. They have to step forward out of that niche and they have been trying to do that incrementally for a while now. They’ve taken us in baby steps already through chapter 2, and Joon said the REAL chapter 2 will begin when they are back from fulfilling their service.

What will they be like? Will they reinvent themselves? Perhaps, but not overnight. I don’t see any sort of extreme makeover for BTS once they come back together. I do see them addressing more mature topics (as we’ve seen), I do hope we see songwriting from all members.

They don't need to abandon their Korean-ness in order to accomplish this. There is nothing stopping them from being a mainstream artist who just happens to be from Korea and who release songs that are in Korean.

I think the accomplishments that Jungkook achieved will continue to pull BTS out of the K-pop realm and into the main stream Pop music realm. They worked that western market. They got pushback, especially western industry institutions: Billboard and the Grammys. And they learned.

Progress is slow but progress nevertheless. They will cross over to general pop one way or the other. They are not going to stay in the kpop box in the future. Straddle both at the same time. They can do it.

For 2024:

I think comeback/HYYH 10th anniversary reboot is already in the works and has been.

I think PDogg will be working on the songs over the next year. I think they have recorded all this year.

I think when Jin and Hobi get back, they might record their parts. I also am pretty sure we'll see a full-bodied solo effort from Jin and more from Hobi. I think we'll get a ramp up to his discharge with some Hope on the Street content that he recorded before he enlisted.

I think we'll slowly see wheels start turning to get the machine going again much sooner than we imagined.

I think what we see next year will all be primed to pre-promote and whip up the excitement for 2025.

I just feel strongly that Bang PD would NOT have mentioned that specific thing and we would not be hearing the members constantly saying 2025. And especially saying 2025 is not that far in the future and that they are looking forward to the incredible synergy the group will have when they get back together. They've got a lot of work done already. They know already.

They said there is A LOT coming to us.

In about two weeks BTS: Beyond the Star docu-series will begin.

We know we're getting some sort of Jimin and Jungkook traveling content, whether a series or not...I'm leaning toward it being a multi-episode series. Camping? Drinking? Breweries? Beaches? Boating or sailing or both but separate? Fishing? Snow sports? They said it was fun.

We will see activity around all the solo album anniversaries. We still have an RM documentary, a Taehyung documentary and a Jungkook documentary. I bet the latter two will come out towards the end of 2024.

We might have Tae acting, we know he'll be in an IU MV soon.

About aging bangtan ...

Remember when we said this is Bangtan in 20 years?

I joke about it but seriously they are aware that things will be different as they evolve and age as people and as artists.

There are new groups debuting all the time and BTS is aging out of a certain demographic (as they should).

Yoongi saying "cruise with BTS" would be the best case scenario for their future.

I would love to be on that cruise if it ever happens.

#bts chapter 2 #bts military service #jimin #jungkook #namjoon #j-hope #jin #taehyung #yoongi #jikook #instagram is going to be soooo quiet without daily updates from @rkive and @thv #no more tiktok dance challenges #this was a long ass ramble but i had a lot of thinking fragments #purge purge purge #the most beautiful moment in life is yet to come

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tired-teacher-blog · 11 months

Text

Late night surprise

Characters : Aizawa/ Fem reader

Warnings and Genre : NSFW/ 18+/ Somnophilia (consensual)/ Oral (fem receiving/ Pussy drunk!Aizawa/ Fingering/ Breast play/ One Shot

Notes : This is something that I've been talking about with my bestie @aizawas-non-right-foot 😍 Banner by : @/cafekitsune

Masterlist|Second Masterlist

Part 2

It has been a while— three weeks and five days to be exact, since you were able to spend a quiet evening with your boyfriend. Your schedules have been extremely hectic lately, and his night shifts have become reoccurring for the past few days, leaving you even less time together.

You miss him a lot, and lately, even the frequent calls and voice mails have become insufficient. You want to spend some quality time with him, cuddled up in bed together while watching a movie, or having a pleasant conversation and catching up with one another over dinner, as opposed to eating alone and going straight to an empty cold bed.

When was the last time you woke up in his arms? And how long has it been since you were.. intimate with one another?

Three weeks and five days, that's how long it's been.

_ "Really! You're coming home early today?" your heart almost leapt with joy when you heard a soft 'yes honey' on the other end of the line.

Finally, you will have the whole night to yourselves.

You run around the house like a maniac, fixing dinner, setting the ambiance and taking a quick shower before slipping into something that seemed to always make him lose his mind.

Your luscious curves are gleaming in the mirror as you observe the sexy night gown barely covering your pantiless bum and falling perfectly over your soft skin, "I'm ready."

You check your phone and sigh with relief as your preparations have been completed on time, only a few more minutes until hearing the door click and seeing his beautiful frame stepping into the apartment.

The anticipated few minutes turned into an hour and then another, your delectable dinner is now nothing but a cold lumpy mush, and your cheerful smile is nowhere to be found.

You plop onto your cold empty bed and reach for your phone again, sighing miserably as your eyes scan his latest text once more :

"I'm so sorry honey but something came up, looks like I'll be home late after all."

You're too exhausted to think straight or even move a muscle, your plans have gone to waste after careful preparations, so you need to get your ass up and clean the dining table before succumbing to sleep, not to mention removing the needless night gown that's making you feel stupid at this point.

You need to get up, but your mind is foggy and your head feels heavy on your fluffy pillow, still, you have to put away the food and get changed first.

You have to..

.. have to..

Something feels warm and, wet? A strange yet familiar sensation is spreading throughout your whole body, but what exactly is it? Last thing you can remember was moping about your ruined plans while struggling to fight off sleep, so what happened after that?

_ "Fuck, I can't believe I had to miss this after being forced into a second shift."

You recognize this voice, this growl, but where is it coming from? You're asleep right? Then it must be a dream..

_ "I'm so sorry for being late princess, so let me make it up to you huh?"

There it is again, that same recognizable voice.

_ "Shouta.." this dream, this sensation, it all feels too realistic.

_ "Yes honey I'm right here."

Your eyes flutter open and your body jerks in surprise as you clearly hear it this time, it's not a dream is it?

_ "Shouta, what are you.. oh God!" you tilt your head back and arch off the bed as you feel it deeper, his warm fat tongue, licking its way into your slick walls.

You are still in a haze, your vision is blurry and your brain is foggy, but your body is reacting on its own. You reach out a shaky hand and grab onto his raven locks, pushing his face deeper against you.

This isn't an unusual occurrence, you can't remember how many times you have awoken to find his lips or fingers latched onto you, and it's a favor that you have eagerly paid back many times in return.

The pleasure your man is giving you seems more intense than usual, it has been a while after all.

_ "Fuck I missed you gorgeous.." his words are mixed with obscene slurping noises and satisfied hums that vibrate into your core, he seems out of it, needy and desperate while lapping up your cute love bud and nibbling on the surrounding swollen lips like a bear clinging to a honey tree.

Your heavy eyes travel downward to steal a glimpse of the man doing wonders for you, and you whimper as you're faced with an arousing sight that almost gets you spasming violently with intense pleasure.

It's exhilarating, your boyfriend is still in his work attire, filthy sweaty and disheveled, and it looks like burying his face between your legs was the first thing he thought of doing after walking into the house.

You can't help gawking at him, propping yourself up on quivering elbows to have a better view of your beloved, and biting down on your lip as a knot starts to form in the pit of your belly.

He is beautiful, with his flushed skin and focused eyes staring back at you, and his soft hair falling perfectly around his face and neck to tickle your sensitive skin with every little move he's making.

His calloused hands release your thighs to slide along your sides, bringing your night gown further up and revealing more of your flesh to him.

_ "You dare fall asleep while wearing this instead of waiting for me? You're a bad girl." his playful words are groaned against your weeping cunt, and your legs instinctively squeeze him tight between them.

_ "Stop talking! Please don't talk with that in your mouth!" your cute little outburst brings a throaty chuckle out of the man who insists on feigning ignorance.

_ "Why's that? Why can't I speak while pleasuring my princess?" his purrs send a shudder deep inside of you.

This bastard knows his effect on you, he loves tormenting you, seeing you helpless underneath him, and he succeeds in making his wish come true every single time.

Your arms give out and your back hits the mattress again, you can no longer see his face but the feeling of his eager mouth is driving you mad.

His hands move under your silky night gown to grope your mounds, thumbs brushing over your perky nipples while his tongue fucks you deep and slow.

You're not going to last much longer at this rate, your heart is pounding harshly in your chest, and your whimpers are getting louder and needier by the second, "keep going! Please! Just a bit more!" your shameless demands are well received, as he humms with delight and keeps on thrusting his tongue deeper within you.

His fingers carry on massaging your soft breasts, kneading your flesh and pinching your perky teats teasingly before one of his large hands runs down your body and rests on your lower belly.

You know what this means, though you're not sure if your body will be able to handle any anymore of his taunting behavior, you've just about reached your limit.

_ "Shouta, I'm so close.."

He retracts his tongue and kisses your clit before rubbing two fingers along your wetness to slowly ease them past your welcoming slit.

Your mouth falls open but nothing comes out of it, your breath gets caught in your throat and your body twists under his brute dominance as his fingers take control.

You're a wreck, shattering a little bit more each second that passes, and he loves it.

His lips kiss along your inner thighs, and his fingers curl up and stroke that one particular sweet spot he knows all too well.

_ "No wait.. wait! It's too.. too much!" you finally find your voice, crying out a warning but only a moment before giving in to a splintering orgasm, shuddering uncontrollably and coating the fingers still moving inside of you before relaxing at last.

_ "That's my girl, you've done a good job sweetheart." he cooes sweetly while trailing a few soft kisses along your sensitive cunt, "so how's my princess feeling?"

_ "Perfect.." you breathe out drowsily, a satisfied smile adorning your face.

He carefully licks you clean, attentive as to not overstimulate you while flicking his tongue up and down on your throbbing clit, "fuck.. what a treat."

You giggle happily and reach out for him to get closer, your blush deepening as you notice his reddening lips and glistening chin, proof of what he has just done for you.

_ "I'm sorry for missing our date love, but I promise to make it up to you tomorrow." he looks apologetic as he speaks, and you can't help the giggles escaping your throat, he is truly adorable.

_ "But I don't want to wait until tomorrow, so how about taking a shower together right now and see what happens?" you request suggestively, sneaking a hand between your bodies and pressing it against his raging stiffness.

_ "Oh I'd love that even more."

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dave-me0wstaine · 6 months

Note

HIII Okay so, I'm going absolutely fucking feral over bad boy!80's Dave x innocent!reader, can you make a full fic on it pleaaase?

ofc!! i was planning on making a full fic + a few blurbs of badboy! 80s dave bc i've legit been thinking about this scenario for a few weeks!!

like i imagine that the two of you meet at a record store he works at, and the instant he sees you he's smitten. you just look so soft and sweet, and the little babydoll dress you have on drives him insane. it doesn't take long for dave to start speaking to you, asking you if you need help with anything, or making flirtatious small talk, giving compliments, etc. your shy responses only make him that much more obsessed with you; your demeanor matches your exterior; you're so kind and soft-spoken, and so innocent.

to dave's surprise, you're surprisingly eager to befriend him. truth is, you've only been coming into the record store the past couple of weeks to see him. you couldn't put your finger on it, but something about him was just so...alluring. anytime he looked at you, you instantly felt butterflies in your tummy, and whenever his calloused hands would brush against your soft ones while handing you whatever you purchased, the butterflies seemed to move in-between your legs. and sometimes, you'd go home and wiggle your cunt around on your pillow, trying desperately to get the feeling to go away, but always end up frustrated and confused at what you're feeling.

not long after you meet, the two of you are inseparable, much to your parents' dismay. you're always hanging around the record store, talking to him while he straightens the shelves, while he's smoking on his break, etc., and he does the same at your little part-time job at the bookstore, always hanging around if he himself doesn't have to work.

eventually, he starts sneaking into your window at night, under the guise of just "hanging out". which is true, for a while at least. until, dave starts suggesting that the two of you lay together, cuddle, maybe share the occasional kiss (or makeout session). and you, ever the innocent girl, are convinced by dave's assurances. "this is what friends are supposed to do, baby."

and one night, just like always, you hear the tell-tale sign that you have a special visitor; you hear your window slowly creak open, and hear the familiar gruffness of dave's voice.

"hey, sweet girl," he drawls out, making his way to where you're stretched out on your stomach on the bed, reading a book.

"hi davie." your voice rings out sweetly, and a shy smile is on your lips. you feel his weight on shift on the bed, and his hand rakes gently through your hair. again, you begin to feel butterflies low in your stomach, and as a result you unknowingly squeeze your thighs together. dave, ever the observant, takes note of this.

"what's wrong, sweetheart?" he questions, and when you simply shoot him a confused look, he elaborates. "you're wigglin' around."

"s'nothin'," you slur out, hiding your face, which is getting hotter by the second, into your bed covers. you always seem to get flustered each time you hang out with dave, and you're not quite sure why. dave however, gets a sly look on his face as he realizes exactly what it is you're feeling.

"oh, i think i know, hun." dave purrs out, running his hands over your hips. he ghosts his fingers across your lower back, across your slightly-too-short pajama bottoms. slowly, his fingers start to dip underneath the fabric.

"d'you trust me?" he whispers to you, fingers hesitant and antsy. as much as he'd like to act on impulse, he doesn't want to scare you away from him. dave doesn't think his heart would take it if you pushed him away because of something he did.

"of course i do," you chirp happily. "you're being silly, davie."

"yeah? then lemme make you feel good," his fingers begin pulling the fabric of your pajama shorts and underwear down your ass, and he feels you tense underneath his touch. "if you wanna stop-"

"n-no! no, please, don't," you cut him off, perhaps a bit too eagerly, and you start to feel embarrassed. but before that feeling can truly set in, another one emerges; the same feeling you get whenever the two of you kiss, except this time it's stronger. much stronger.

"fuck, you're so pretty, baby." dave mutters, almost to himself. with a large hand, he spreads your cheeks apart, marveling at the glistening slick coating your cunt. just the sight alone makes his brain feel like tv static, and without thinking, he lowers his head down and sticks his tongue out to get a taste of you.

you yelp out of surprise, and before long, dave's manhandled you so that your ass is up in the air, and your face is shoved into your soft, pink blankets as he eats you from behind. the noises that the sound of his mouth on your cunt makes your legs quiver, and you whine even louder into the blankets.

"gotta be quieter, baby," dave pulls away momentarily, out of breath, to gently scold you, but really, he doesn't care. as far as he's concerned he's on cloud nine, eating out a girl that he's had a crush on for months at this point, making her cream on his tongue. if he died in the next 10 minutes, he'd die a happy man.

"m's-sorry!" you squeak out, and bite down on the blankets to muffle out any of your noises. it's a miracle you had enough sense to do this, considering how out of your mind with pleasure you were. so out of your mind, in-fact, that your orgasm took both you and dave by surprise (not that you'd really know what that felt like anyway, considering you've never had one before).

dave continues to lap at your clit while you come down from your orgasm, and overstimulates you to the point that you're trying in vain to wiggle your hips - which are held tightly in his grasp - away from his mouth. eventually, after delivering a sharp tug to his hair, he begrudgingly pulls away, flipping your body over so that you're on your back, looking up at him with unfocused, sleepy eyes.

"feel better, pretty girl?" he asks you, softly brushing stray hairs away from your face and behind your ear. you can only nod, your voice hoarse from the whines and moans you desperately tried to muffle.

he huffs out a small laugh through his nose at the sight of you, dazed, flushed, and out of breath, and plants a chaste kiss to your lips.

"let's get you in bed, sleepy girl."

#also anon ilysm for this ask!!#also im definitely making this an au #its criminal if i dont make it an au atp #dave mustaine #dave mustaine smut #dave mustaine x reader #dave mustaine fanfiction #bad boy! dave #megadeth #megadeth smut #megadeth x reader #megadeth fanfiction #asks

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byunpum · 7 months

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I can be a better father | Part 5 (Ikran)

Pair: Tsu'tey x child-Grow up y/n

Warning: none, cute moments.

Note: Sorry for taking so long to answer the requests. I've had a lot of work these past few weeks, and I really haven't had much of a muse. And if I don't feel like writing, I'd better take a break so I can bring you more material. But still….thanks so much for the support!!!

Requests: (anon) Please could you make more chapters of tsu'tey and the children .. where y/n finds a dragon cub just like drogon. Also do one where spider gets an ikran even though he's human. PLEASE !!!

Avatar masterlist | Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Tsu'tey placed the last piece of wood to his hut, tightening it tightly against the other pieces. Stepping back to observe his work, this would be enough to keep spider from falling out of the tree hut again. The man had spent all morning preparing a type of ladder so that his human-children would not fall. They were still too small to climb on the hard bark of the tree, well…they could, but he didn't want them to hurt their hands. His children's skin was delicate, he thought asking Jake for help and advice on what he should do would help and here he was…looking at his work. For a first time doing stairs they didn't look bad, or so he thought.

He sat for a while on the floor, resting. He had sent the kids to play with his half-siblings, neytiri would take care of them. And he would have some time off for himself, but all peace of mind was interrupted when he heard the voice of his little Y/N. Turning his head to see his cute baby with an ikran…newborn. Ikran were territorial creatures, so they didn't usually leave their young alone. But here was her little girl, holding the baby ikran in her tiny arms. Well what she could hold, the creature was much bigger than she was. But Y/N was holding it lovingly, walking swiftly towards her father.

"Sempuuuu, look what I found!!!!" shouts the child. Tsu'tey didn't know how to answer, his mouth was open. He had so many questions at this moment, how on earth had she taken that. Tsu'tey gets up from the ground, running towards her daughter. The creature screams, and moves into her daughter's arms.

"Baby…how? Where did you get? By my eywa" speaks tsu'tey trying to calm down, reaching out to touch the baby ikran. But the baby tries to bite him. While his little girl laughs out loud. "I found him….his mom went and left him. I'm going to be his new mommy" Y/N speaks, hugging the child more. The little girl's tiny body sways backwards trying to control her balance. "baby…we must return this baby to his family, we can't take care of him. He belongs with his family" tsu'tey tries to explain to her little daughter that the little ikran belongs with his own kind.

The little one's face turns to one of distress, pouting. By this time the creature had already cowered in Y/N's arms. "sempu…he is alone, we could take care of him…as you have taken care of me and spider" Y/N speaks, oh no those words have crushed tsu'tey's heart. He was weak when his little girl spoke to him this way. Tsu'tey sighs, he didn't want to hurt his daughter's feelings. He fixes Y/N's hair a bit, apparently she had been doing a lot of mischief the last few hours. Her hair was quite a mess, some loose braids and tangled bits of hair.

"Honey…he must be with his own species" tsu'tey starts to speak, but his daughter interrupts him. One of her small hands, touches his forearm. Her little eyes were teary. "But we are not of the same species and you are our father, right?" The little girl speaks, leaving her father speechless again. She was right, he had decided to adopt them and take care of them no matter where they were from. To tsu'tey they were his children, and always would be. Reaching over to give his little daughter a kiss on the hair. "He can stay" tsu'tey watches as her daughter begins to jump for joy, while the creature jumps with her. "but only until he can take care of himself" tsu'tey orders, the little girl accepts all excited. Hugging the baby ikran tightly. Tsu'tey had to admit that ikran babies were not something he was happy about, they were noisy and difficult to take care of.

It was very strange that he was alone, so he decided to investigate the whereabouts of the mother of this creature. And after a week of failing in his search, he proved his daughter absolutely right. Apparently the mother had left him, and she had no one to take care of him. The little ikran had one wing bigger than the other. It was not much of a difference, but this was surely the reason why he was left. Tsu'tey was happy to see how his daughter was taking care of the baby, sleeping with him. Hunting for the little ikran to eat. She looked so cute, with her little bow hunting any creature smaller than herself to give to her baby ikran. The bigger the creature grew, the stronger the bond Y/N had with her.

As the years went by…while other youngsters had to train an ikran, bond with them. And create a connection. Y/N was already flying the skies of Pandora, with taw. So she decided to name her ikran. A beautiful ikran, blue and pink in color. This surprised a lot of people, humans are not able to create bonds like the na'vi do. It created a lot of doubt and curiosity among the na'vi community, humans could have more feelings than they thought.

While the other boys were trying to bond with the ikran, even the sully boys. Y/n was calmly petting her ikran. Tsu'tey watched them curiously, himself wondering how this was possible. Watching as his daughter, hugged the creature, and the ikran closed her eyes with love and a calmness that seemed like something magical. As if the two of them were one and the same person. "You know…having that kind of bond…it's something unique and special" tsu'tey says, with some mockery in his tone. He was rubbing it in jakesully's face, that his daughter had gotten an ikran first and more effectively than his sons. Jake pouts, but laughs. "I remind you that she is my daughter too" jakesully speaks, laughing as he sees tsu'tey stand up straight. Pushing him a little, and walking away from jake.

Tsu'tey walks towards his daughter, touching her hair. The girl looks up, giving her father a big smile. "Sempu…taw is more beautiful every day, don't you think so?" the girl speaks, seeing how her daddy looks at her with such admiration and adoration. "You're amazing sweetie" tsu'tey says, seeing how his little girl giggles. And she answers him with a ' I know'. Sitting down together to watch the training of the others.

#avatar the way of water #avatar x y/n #avatar 2022 #avatar x reader #avatar x you #female y/n #human reader #human y/n #tsu'tey fic #tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey x human reader #tsu'tey x human daugther #tsu'tey fanfiction #tsu'tey avatar #tsu'tey x y/n #jake sully #spider socorro #spider x reader #neteyam imagine

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cherryslyce · 1 year

Text

Second Son (IV) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: Dumbledore's Army gears up in the Room of Requirements and Regulus reveals information that demonstrates the extent of his magical prowess.

Part III / Part V / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x Gender Neutral Reader

Notes: Not canon compliant, Tweaks to canon magic, Cursing

Harry made a fine teacher and if you weren't positive that he was leaning towards becoming an auror, you would have jumped at the chance to sing his praises to Dumbledore.

The meeting at Hog's Head started off rocky, but by the end of the trio's speech, everyone was convinced to sign the membership paper that carved their fates.

Of course, Umbridge somehow had ears and eyes everywhere and not even a week went by before she became suspicious of your group.

Thus, her proclamation for the dissolution of all student organizations went into effect.

Bloody ministry folks and their paranoia.

Regulus found her "Educational Decrees" to be the most ridiculous abuse of power and you had never seen him so fired up about something before.

He sure did take education seriously.

Despite Umbridge's warnings, everyone who was a part of the D.A showed their commitment by attending every meeting regardless. Soon, the tense air that uneased everyone dissipated as lively chatter and adrenaline dominated the space.

Your latest meeting in the Room of Requirements left you flabbergasted by the depth of skill and perseverance shown by a few individuals.

Currently, you were lazing on your bed, fawning over everyone's progress, "Hm, Reg, you should have seen it. Ginny's reducto was truly marvelous."

Your eyes glitter as you recall the moment Ginny managed to absolutely demolish the practice dummy, stunning her older brothers into silence.

Which reminded you that you would need to ask her about her acclaimed Bat-Bogey hex in the future.

"No need for me to see it. I heard it. Indeed, she is quite a formidable witch."

There was a weird edge to his tone, but you tried not to think much of it because you were having a strange gut feeling that he was off-put by your praise towards Ginny.

He was being quite strange today.

You still weren't quite sure how far you could push him for answers and the last thing you wanted was for your friendship to be strained.

Instead, you opted to gloss over your observation and continue rambling on. It was currently past curfew and you had warded your bed with silencing charms a couple of times, too paranoid to risk exposing Regulus.

There was a certain subject that you couldn't help but dwell on. Frankly, it was eating away at your patience and sanity.

After a few moments, you worked up the courage to bring it up, "Reg."

"Hm?"

You hesitated, peering down at him and meeting his attentive gaze, "This is going to sound crazy, but do you think there's any way for you to... not be a painting? I mean, I've just been wondering about it. Like, what if I could somehow bring you into the physical plane."

"Is that why your head has been up in the clouds so much, little bird?" He smiles teasingly at your offended look, having taken a liking to ruffling your feathers as of late.

(Fuck. Did you just accidentally make a pun out of that nickname?)

You gape at him before replying, more flusteredly than you appreciated, "Little bird? I know you said that to throw me off, Reg. So, don't try to change the topic!"

Regulus sighs quietly before looking at you steadily, "I just don't want you to be disappointed, Y/N. You shouldn't worry about me, I'll be just fine as your personal pocket portrait."

He pauses before continuing, posture growing rigid at his next words, "Besides, I don't need you experimenting with dangerous magic. In fact, that is the last thing I want you to do."

"But-"

He fixes you with a stern look, eyebrows raising in challenge.

You nod in defeat, deciding to file away your thoughts for another time. It wouldn't do any good to try and bring Regulus back while Voldemort was still running amuck, anyway.

Successfully placated, you conceded, "Okay. I just care a lot about you is all. Promise you'll tell me if you become dissatisfied with this arrangement."

He smiled faintly, shaking his head in fondness, "I know. I promise I will. But you don't have to worry your little head about it anytime soon."

His teasing was insufferable. But you‘d let him win the argument this time.

Your heart was racing in your chest and you flipped over onto your back, dazedly staring up at the canopy of curtains above your bed.

You were growing worried. At first you had assumed you were suffering from a minor medical condition, after all your heart had some pretty brutal scares from the twins over the summer. But as time passed, you concluded that you were suffering from a crush.

A minute, itty-bitty crush. On Regulus.

Who were you kidding. You were smitten for a bloody portrait. It was incredulous. Seriously, you were tempted to ask for a psych evaluation, but Madam Pomfrey would likely dose you into a coma and have Dumbledore ship you off to St. Mungo's.

But, the more you thought about it, the more you realized that Regulus wasn't just some dusty painting. He was vibrant and sarcastic. He could read you like an open book and he always looked out for you.

He was so alive.

Whoever had painted him captured his magical essence and personality so well, you were almost certain that he was exactly like his deceased, human counterpart.

Really, you couldn't decide if you were grateful towards the artist or if you wanted to hex them for making you feel the way you did.

You were like a bloody crup puppy tripping over your own tail for him.

How maddening.

Luckily, you didn't have much time to beat yourself up over it as Harry had approached you the very next morning with his own romantic dilemma.

"So...you guys kissed?"

"Yes."

You teetered with your thoughts for a few seconds, trying to make sense of Harry's grimace, "And it wasn't...ideal?"

"Well, she was crying so it was more wet and salty than anything."

"Bloody hell. Was that your first kiss, Harry?"

The boy gapes at the question and seems to come to a realization, lips furling down at whatever he was thinking about.

You couldn't stop the chuckle from leaving your lips, laying a comforting hand on your friend's shoulder, "It's okay, Harry. Besides, now you can move on from her. Plus, not everyone can say that their first kiss was with their first crush."

The boy shakes his head to rid of his thoughts, fixing his glasses (a habit you noticed he did whenever he was stressed).

Sighing, you tilt your head, "I'm assuming there's more to this story then?"

Harry looks like he's conflicted on whether or not to answer, but ultimately gives in, "She was crying over Cedric."

Ah, shit.

You eloquently mustered up a quiet, "Oh."

Harry nods along as if he was used to being the scapegoat of all of the universe's jokes. You couldn't help but feel terrible for your friend, it seemed that every school year was more traumatizing than the last.

"Don't worry, Harry. You're both going through your own issues, and you'll have plenty of chances at love in the future. Plus, you're going to look bloody cool today when you demonstrate that Patronus charm of yours."

Regulus had worn you down with his teaching, but you could perform most of the spells in the curriculum in your sleep now. The only spell you had never attempted before was the Patronus charm, always being daunted by the difficult spell.

Harry seems to perk up a little at your words and you could see the gears turning as he planned out his approach to the next lesson.

He really would make a fantastic professor.

A little bit later, after your classes, you figured that you could chat with Regulus for a bit before the D.A. meeting. As you tugged the curtains to cover your bed, casting a silencing spell, you quickly pulled Regulus out of your robe pocket.

You couldn't help the bright smile that overtook your face at the sight of him, "Hey there, Reg."

The boy smiles gently at your excitement before it's wiped away by a serious look. He was certainly much warmer with you than when you first met, but he was still quite guarded.

No matter. You were stubborn. You could wait for him to open up.

"Little bird. Did you want to discuss Harry's unfortunate love life or did you want to learn the Patronus charm ahead of time?"

You groan a little at the nickname, "I swear, I need to come up with a nickname for you now. But, wait, Reg, you can cast a patronus?"

The boy looks ready to retort, but you're quick to clarify your words, "I mean, not that I doubt your skills. It's just that I've always assumed that..."

Regulus, luckily, is not offended by your explanation and saves you from your fumbling, "That death eaters are incapable of casting it, right? Well, you're not wrong in the assumption. To my knowledge, many are unable to. I know the mechanisms of the spell, but I have only ever been able to cast it once."

Merlin, why did you even ask, he was literally capable of everything.

"Once? While you were still a student here, then?" Your defeated mumble of questions only slightly gave away your disappointment at his inability to be flawed.

Regulus looks as if he was expecting the question, a small smile tugging at his lips, "No. I was able to cast it after my death."

After his death?

Oh.

OH.

Your eyes were nearly bulging from your head, "Portraits have the capabilities to cast magic? No. No, that's just a you thing, right? Merlin, I was already in awe by how sentient you are, but this exceeds all my expectations."

Yes, Regulus was flawless. He was not merely blessed by Mother Magic, he was dearly loved by her.

Your nerves were buzzing and you were suddenly more awake than you were before. While you brung your finger to run along the frame of his portrait, Regulus seemed to finish gathering his thoughts.

It appeared that he was debating whether or not he should satiate your curiosity. Apparently, this topic was another one of his secrets.

Crossing his arms lightly across his chest, he answers quietly, "Yes, it is highly uncommon for any portrait to be as aware as I. Being able to cast magic was more of an experimentation of mine. Many wizards and witches do not delegate the necessary time frame to their portraits so it may be this nuanced. They usually only cover the basics: appearance, humor, and eccentricity. But, I just happened to spend many years before my death transferring all my knowledge and memories into this portrait."

"Years?" you echoed.

"Years." He nodded in confirmation, eyes unfocusing as he seemed to delve into past memories, "I always knew I'd take his mark growing up, so I commissioned for a portrait to be done beforehand. Luckily, I had it repainted over shortly before my death."

His explanation is a heavy, but not an unwelcome one.

So this was what Regulus looked like before he died. He was so young. You had always assumed that his portrait looked like him years before his passing.

The gears in your head were turning as you processed this new information, realizing that likely, very few people were privy to this knowledge on portraits.

For the sake of the wizarding world, you would keep this information from public ears.

It would be cataclysmic to have Voldemort live on and command his followers through a portrait.

"Thank you for telling me, Reg. I appreciate it."

The boy simply nods, a heavy weight seemingly easing off his shoulders. This was the first time he had divulged heavy information about his past, and despite how fleeting it was, you were appreciative nonetheless.

Suddenly a realization hit you and you perked up on the spot, "Wait, Reg. You said you can cast the patronus charm, right? Was it corporeal?"

Regulus doesn't grace you with an answer, but the twinkle in his eye and the smirk on his face already told you everything you needed to know, a youthful glow suddenly shrouding his face. Unbelievable. A bloody portrait casted a fully corporeal patronus before you.

Your awe only grows once the D.A. meeting starts.

Harry doesn't even begin the meeting by saying anything, he simply takes his wand out and casts his spell into the air with a firm Expecto Patronum.

A burst of bright, blue light whirls like a tide before manifesting into a large stag, the light of the patronus illuminating Harry's gleeful eyes.

Everyone in the room stares in wonder as his patronus galianty runs in circles above their heads before bursting into a sprint through the wall, disappearing, just as Harry tucks his wand away.

"Well that's one hell of an opening."

Your words are met with a few nods and chuckles as Harry grins in your direction. Harry then begins to break down the wand movements necessary to cast the charm and supplies everyone with tips on how to cast it quicker.

You were not going to let Regulus beat you out, you were going to cast a bloody patronus today if it's the last thing you'd do. So you continue to listen to (Professor) Harry attentively, fiddling with your wand in anticipation.

You remember what Harry had told you in third year, the year he learned to cast it. You needed to bring forth a strong, happy memory in your head.

Taking in a deep breath, you maneuver your wand in front of you and narrow your eyes into the air, almost as if willing your patronus to sprout from your wand just from desire alone.

A happy memory. Happy. First year. Meeting Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Running around Hogwarts and beating up the troll in the lavatory. —You wondered if Harry's memory had anything to do with your friend group.

The little blue light that peeked from your wand immediately evaporated as you lost concentration, causing you to silently curse yourself. Focus.

Happy. Third year. Sneaking around with your friends and watching Harry blast Snape across the Shrieking Shack. Happy. Fourth year. Laughing with Ron as Harry got flustered around Cho. Happy. Happy. Finding Regulus.

The small wisp of blue light that you conjured grows a little bigger and brighter.

Yes. Regulus.

Laughing with Regulus. Laughing at Regulus. Learning from Regulus.

Making Regulus smile for the first time in the disappearing room at Grimmauld Place.

Regulus giving you his ring. Feeling the cool silver against your skin for the first time. Watching Regulus‘ eyes unconsciously drift towards the ring whenever you waved your hands around.

Suddenly, you're pulled from your thoughts by a sudden burst of blue light in front of you. You are still rather overwhelmed by the thought of Regulus. Until you're not.

You don't exactly register the next few moments of time, being vaguely aware of Harry's shout of pride and everyone's murmurs of awe.

No, you're too distracted. Not because it was the thought of Regulus that allowed you to cast a fully corporeal patronus.

No, it's because as you're watching your patronus move around in the air, you realize that you're screwed.

A sparrow. A little bird.

Your patronus. Did it manifest from how much you secretly enjoyed the nickname? If so, you certainly did not like the implications of that.

The sparrow circles around your stunned body one last time before flying through the ceiling and disappearing. Your shock recedes as you see Ginny and Luna successfully cast their patronuses as well, just in time for a deep rumble to reverberate around the walls.

Turning to face the entrance of the room, dust clouds your vision as your ears begin to ring. Rubble lays astrew on the floor and you blurrily bring your hand to swat away the dust in front of you, feeling someone grasp at your shoulder to keep you upright.

As the dust settles and you're pushed back into the coherence of reality, you bring your gaze towards the perpetrator.

Standing proudly at the newly blasted hole in the wall were Umbridge and the Inquisitorial Squad, a shamefaced Cho held by Draco's side.

Merlin be damned. Harry's love life is a proper mess.

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catboybiologist · 4 months

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I was wondering if you had any readings on the biological aspects of transitioning, especially with the info you use to deconstruct the transphobia argument that being transgender is ‘against biology’. Im a biological sciences major, but haven’t gotten to discuss (much less find resources on) this topic.

Thanks in advance.

Long and rambling response incoming! Sorry for leaving this in my inbox for a few weeks.

This is a very interesting topic to me, and doesn't really have a clean answer. Because its not really about the biology itself, its mostly about the philosophy of science, and how it interfaces with ethics, etymology, and societal understanding. The primary thing to understand is that science is *descriptive*. Morality or classifications are societal determinations that we use to "wrap" scientific observations- gender is therefore the societal "wrapper" to sex, which, over centuries, has snowballed and taken a social definition well past any biological system.

That being said, most of my arguments hinge on the totality of changes that are possible with HRT, and how they affect the molecular mechanisms of sex determination. To me, this sheer totality means that a trans man with significant time on HRT can actually be considered a "biological man", and vice versa for a trans woman. To me, the sheer extent to which cell expression patterns change, and structural elements of the body change, means that the way that transphobes use terminology like "biological sex" is bullshit. And as I've said before, this is NOT a transmedicalist argument, and if I ever sound transmed, I am sorry. Part of the totality of this biological definition includes the interface of genetics, pyschology, and sociology that comprehensively includes all trans people, even those not on HRT. Rather, I use the changes of HRT as a way to demonstrate the plasticity of sex in humans and other animals, and how thin the barrier between sexes actually is. This punches holes in a lot of the propaganda that transphobes tend to roll out, and helps demonstrate how flimsy their talking points are. All of this is to say, something can't be "against biology" because biology is morally neutral. It's not morality. It's not static definitions. It's a set of observations. But, our thinking about definitions and classifications can reflect and be advised by these observations. For me, it helped to think about HRT changes, because my personal mentality is one of a constructed identity. I define myself by what I am in the moment, and if I can document my current state, that helps define who I am- which is a woman. The biology of transition told me how deeply that is true, and continually becomes more true, on a molecular level. So. Here's some individual papers and points that help guide my thinking on the topic, and how each helped me find peace with transitioning: Medical descriptions of changes on HRT:

I'm sure everyone is familiar with this and the WPATH, but from the perspective of medical expectations. Instead, take a look at the changes documented here, and start thinking about how deep and profound they are- these cell types and body structure are sitting there just waiting to happen, and they are literally the same as their cis counterparts. This was huge for me in accepting that my post-HRT body wouldn't be "fake", and actually is literally the

Review paper of sex determination pathways in the animal kingdom:

Transphobes use chromosomes as a prescriptive definition of sex and gender. However, if you take a broader look and see how sex determination works in animals with similar genetic mechanisms as us, it becomes pretty clear that chromosomal sex determination is a late addition to the party. Essentially, most animals use a fairly random mechanism to ensure an advantageous sex ratio in their population. This is often environmental or based on some random gene on chromosome that looks nothing like XY sex determination, but if a large chromosomal deletion comes along, its a convenient way to keep the big version of the chromosome always paired with the small chromosome- for example, the X chromosome always being paired with another X, or its half-deleted pair, the Y chromosome. But there's nothing intrinsic about the chromosomes itself that define sex, its just an evolutionary ride-along mechanism.

So what does actually determine sex? Well, as with any broad scale developmental effect, one signalling molecule or gene can cause extensive downstream genetic effects, and that active, lived set of gene expression then defines what secondary sex characteristics develop.

(even though the main point is about spermatogenesis, it does provide a lot of nice summary figures about testosterone signalling) While these papers don't talk about trans people, the introduction of cross-sex hormones will activate these pathways, and cause the wide variety of downstream transcriptional changes in gene activation. Essentially, the active genes in your body will follow the dominant upstream sex hormones in your body. If you're transfemme, on HRT, the active genes in your body are female ones. If you're transmasc, on HRT, the active genes in your body are male ones.

While I never explicitly studied trans people in my biology education, studying principles of gene regulation, chromosome biology, and just a tad of reproductive physiology means that I started to think about how all of those interface with the way we define ourselves in a lot of ways. And usually, that is dynamic- you can have developmental changes kicked off by signalling molecules later in life, and it would be deranged to ignore those changes out of spite and insist that the biological system is still the thing it was before. Sex determination is not exempt from that.

Again, I use HRT changes as an example, but you can find many similar papers on the psychology of transness even pre-HRT. But, I would caution against trying to find a "root biological reason" for being trans pre-HRT- its likely too polymodal to accurately characterize. It's why I stray away from neurological papers and arguments here. That is an ENTIRELY different argument and this post is already long. But hey, every ask I get like this helps formalize my thoughts on the matter. Hope this helped!

#trans biology thoughts

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