#Dividers by CafeKitsune

[viperify]

Oneshots | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ X ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Daddy‘s home.

Short summary: Tom Riddle was not easily distraught. Though, since the birth of your daughter, things seemed to change. He was torn – torn between loving her or pretending not to care. Just after he had left for a gathering with his Knights, you and your daughter find yourself in a tense situation. Will that night change the man you knew?

Warnings: slight mentions of child abuse ig, angst, fluff

A/N: Tom is such a girl dad, change my mind.

wordcount: 3,2k

Tom had just woken from the horrors of yet another nightmare and sighed softly. Steadily, he lifted himself from the firm mattress, his feet touching the polished wooden planks of the floor as he got up. He took a quick glance at you, his beautiful wife, who was still fast asleep by the time he woke up. No wonder, he thought, it was quite early after all, not a single ray of sunshine visible on the pitch-black horizon when he looked out of the foggy window. Without causing too much noise, he exited the bedroom, heading towards the small room on the other side of the hallway. He enjoyed doing it like this. It meant he could visit the nursery without being disturbed, watching over his sweet little daughter while she was sleeping peacefully.

A freshly lit candle led his way, and after taking a deep breath, he opened the wooden door with a small creak, peeking inside. Tom sat down on the cushioned chair you nursed her in and just like he had suspected, the little girl’s eyes were closed, chest rising and falling calmly under her woollen blanket. A relieved sigh escaped his lips, slowly sinking back against the chair, always watching over her.

He did this almost daily, at least when he was home, which happened to be quite often lately. The mere thought of something bad happening to you or his daughter sent shivers down his spine. He found himself having nightmares quite often since you had given birth, which was mostly before he then went to check on her. Never had he, Tom Riddle, leader of the Knights of Walpurgis, expected to grow a soft spot for such a tiny human being. In fact, he didn’t fathom ever feeling anything for another person. But there he was, with his small family he would do anything for.

She was six months old by now, and slowly her hair started growing in. Gorgeous brunette curls blossomed all over her tiny head, the same color as Tom’s. Even her facial features resembled her father’s, forest green eyes and puffy lips making her her dad’s twin. He cherished every little moment he got to be alone with her, and ever since the first time he met her right after she was born, he secretly promised himself something.

No matter what happened, he would always take care of his little girl. Protect her from harm and raise her like he would have wanted to be raised. Give her the love she deserved and prevent her from growing up like he did. At any cost. However, he hadn’t really been able to fulfil his promise yet. Every time he wanted to actively become a part of her life, something in him stalled. He couldn’t bring himself to even look her in the eyes.

Today, he would have to attend yet another meeting, discussing the future of the Knights. While it was of great importance to him, at that time he would have much rather stayed home. There was something so peaceful about the presence of his daughter. A place where he could truly relax for once, where nobody was watching or judging him. Just him and his precious girl, only their soft breaths breaking the comforting silence of the room. How could he feel so many things for such a tiny being? Her nose smaller than his thumb, fingers so fragile yet so sweet when they were all scrunched up. He yearned to caress her soft skin, hold her, love on her. Yet, he rarely did.

In fact, he had never held her before. You had offered it multiple times, even encouraged him to. He had always declined. You knew it wasn’t because he didn’t love her, that there must be something else. You didn’t want to push him, give him time to get comfortable. It was all new for both of you – becoming parents. Certainly not an easy task, especially with all the changes your body went through during and after pregnancy. Emotionally though, you knew Tom was struggling more. He was torn, torn between loving and accepting her or pretending to not care. To your surprise, he was quite awful at the latter.

Sometimes when he sat there next to her, he reached out slowly, mostly halting and pulling his hand back again. In very rare cases, like today, he didn’t. His thumb softly caressed the back of her tiny hand, watching her for any signs of discomfort, of disgust. Well, he knew she couldn’t yet feel like that for him. But as the days and weeks passed, he increasingly got the feeling that she would one day. That she would be afraid of him – her own father.

She was still so little, so vulnerable. Tom couldn’t trust himself holding her. He was terrified of hurting her, just like he had so many other people.

When the first rays of sunshine emerged on the horizon, he slowly got up, and after checking one last time whether she was breathing fine, he exited the nursery. Tom then returned to your bed, carefully lying down next to you. He swiped a strand of hair out of your face and closed his eyes, waiting for either you to stir and get up or your daughter letting you know she was hungry.

A small smile formed on his lips at that thought.

Only a few minutes had passed before the soft cries of your daughter woke him again. Tom’s eyes shot open immediately, though he remained calm. He always let you check on her, even if he had the urge to do it himself, like right now. It stirred something in him - hearing the continuous cries of his daughter. Something he recognized from his own childhood at the orphanage. Back then his cries were left unanswered, nobody ever there to soothe him, tell him everything would be alright. Sometimes all he wanted was to be held, to be comforted by someone. Just like all these happy kids that used to walk past with their parents outside the gates of the orphanage when he stood there, looking out of the barred windows of his room.

He grew to despise the monsters, or “nurses” as they called themselves, at his residence. The worst part about it was that he didn’t act any differently toward his own daughter now 20 years later. His thoughts started consuming him and just as he was about to get up to check on her, you woke, yawning.

“I am sorry. Has she been crying for long?” You asked, voice still thick with sleep, sitting up. Tom shook his head slightly. “A minute, I guess.”

“You could always go check on her too.”

He huffed softly. “You know I can't.”

“Try it. She is your daughter. She doesn’t know what love or hate is yet. Make it right before it is too late.”

He didn’t answer, avoiding your gaze by staring at the ceiling.

You sighed and got up, heading to the nursery to feed your daughter. Sometimes he would come too, watch you two with a stoic expression, eyes locked onto the baby in your arms. He never spoke, though. Then, when she had finished nursing, he would turn around to leave before you even got the chance to ask him to take her from your arms, almost like he had suspected what you were about to say.

This time, he didn’t join you but rather walked past the nursery without paying you any attention and descended the stairs, probably to fetch the Daily Prophet which arrived every single day at exactly 7:38 am.

When your daughter was satiated, you stayed with her for a while, helping her digest. She loved being baby-worn when you completed chores around the house, so that is what you did. You too entered the kitchen, having her comfortably wrapped against your front. Tom sat there, eyes fully locked onto the newspaper in front of him while he sipped his lemon balm tea. As always, he had prepared another cup for you, with one spoon of honey and your favourite biscuit.

You sat down next to him, your daughter’s head resting on your chest, staring right at her father. “Thank you.” You said, taking your first sip of the tea he had made you. He turned his head to reply, but your daughter’s eyes caught his. He froze for a moment and as her mouth then curled up in a little smile, his facial expression dropped and he stood up in an instant, clearing his throat. “I am going to Rosier’s. Not sure if I will return tonight.”

You nodded, taking another sip of your tea. “Good luck.”

Tom grabbed his coat and put on his black leather shoes, reaching for the handle of your front door before he halted and turned around once more.

“The wards are intact. Take care. Keep the door locked, don’t open any windows and stay inside until I am back. Got it?” He said, eyes flickering between you and your daughter.

“I will. Don’t worry about that.” You replied, shooting him a small smile.

He nodded and left the house, making his way towards Rosier Manor, where the Knights now normally held their meetings. He could have apparated, however he found a strange sense of solace in the beauty of nature, the contrasting colors of flowers and trees, birds chirping, sky blue without any cloud in sight. A perfect summer day, you could say.

Just a mere kilometre later, two men from further down the road passed him, the smell of alcohol thick in the air. Tom shook his head. How could someone be this drunk at just 11am?

Without turning around, he continued his path, not too far away from his destination now. When he arrived, most of them were waiting already, greeting him as he entered the building. He sat down on his designated chair on the short side of the banquet table, resting his hands on the dark, polished wood. Then, only when everyone had gathered around him, he started talking. Their heads shot in his direction, listening intently to what he was saying, never interrupting him when he spoke.

In the meanwhile, you prepared lunch for you and your daughter, slowly introducing her to solids. You carefully cut up cooked carrots, potatoes and broccoli and watched her closely while her small fingers tried grabbing the vegetables, though often smashing them in her hand before she got the chance to eat them. You smiled softly at the determined expression on her face, just the same as Tom had when he was focused on something. She really was her father’s twin after all.

After both of you were done, you cleaned up. Normally around this time you would go outside for a little walk, Tom joining you two. He told you to stay in the house though, and you respected that. The neighbourhood you lived in didn’t have the best reputation and to be honest, you didn’t feel too safe going outside alone with your daughter anyway. As you looked out of the kitchen window, you saw dark clouds gathering on the otherwise bright blue sky. It was July, so often after a hot summer day thunderstorms would strike, heavy raindrops falling from the dark grey sky.

You sighed and decided to retreat to the nursery, letting your daughter crawl around and play with some toys you two had gotten her. You sat down on the chair and watched her movements. You really were lucky with how easy going she was, rarely crying or complaining, definitely a trait she didn’t inherit from her father. Soon, your eyelids slowly fluttered closed, until a loud thud jolted you awake, eyes immediately searching for your daughter.

-

“We considered getting one of our own into the registry for muggle-borns. What do you say, my Lord?”

Tom might have been present physically during the meeting, however mentally he was far from that. With a sizzling noise the lightnings split the otherwise dark sky, casting a faint glow on the pale faces of him and the Knights. He couldn’t concentrate on what they were saying by any means. All he could think about was her, how scared she must be, her sensitive ears not yet accustomed to the horrors of thunderstorms. He questioned whether you were alright, if the house was doing its duty protecting his little family. Then Tom remembered the two men he had seen a few hours ago, who, he now realised, were heading in your direction. What if they meant harm? Seeing him leave, they must have known you were home alone with your daughter. He had checked the wards on the house before leaving, but what if they found a way? A strange feeling erupted in his chest, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. A sense of panic, helplessness.

It reminded him of his own childhood, the first time he experienced a thunderstorm of that extent. He could still see the memory to this day, how frightened he was. When he was banging on the door, crying, begging for someone to open it. They had a habit of locking him in his room until the morning for “disciplinary reasons”, or, as he assumed, because they were afraid of him and his “strange” behaviour.

Nobody came that night to comfort him.

His breathing quickened at the thought of his precious girl going through the same and without another thought, he stood up. “I need to leave. Meeting is postponed.”

They shot each other concerned glances, yet nobody dared to ask what was going on, confused by his sudden change in demeanour. Tom though couldn’t have cared less at that point.

“My Lord?” Rosier asked quietly, carefully watching the brunette’s expression.

In a quick fashion Tom fetched his black coat and left the manor, stepping outside into the pouring rain as another loud lightning bolt came down with an electrifying crack, followed by a deep, rumbling thunder. All he wanted to do was check if you two were okay, apparating back to your shared home.

At first sight, everything seemed to be alright. Though, after taking a closer look, he spotted a shattered window. He felt his heart skip a beat, and without thinking twice he entered the house, his wand pointed. At first, he didn’t hear or see anything, the house being completely dark apart from the occasional lightnings illuminating the room for a split second, the sound of the heavy rain muting anything else. He called your name, searching for you downstairs. Nothing.

Then, he heard something. Faint cries of a baby, the ones he recognized so well. He didn’t waste another second and rushed up the stairs, heading towards the nursery.

A small source of light shone onto the hallway from the room and when Tom entered, all his worries faded. There you were, trying to comfort your daughter, softly cradling and shushing her. When your eyes met his, you saw his anxious expression and the way his chest rose and fell quickly, gasping for breath. His damp, brunette locks stuck to his forehead as he exhaled sharply, fingers swiping through his messy hair.

“Are you two alright?” Tom asked softly, coming closer to press a kiss on your forehead.

“We are fine. She is just really scared of the loud noises.” You said, still trying to calm her down.

He nodded, looking down at his daughter’s scrunched-up face while she was crying. Tom had always thought nothing could affect him after what he had been through, but this? It hurt him. For a moment, he just stood there, watching over you two, glad you two were well. Though, he needed more. Tom wanted to comfort her, give back to the broken child deep inside of him. He wanted to give her what he didn’t have. A loving family.

“Can I-“ he breathed, hands reaching out, “Can I hold her?”

Your eyes met his, smiling reassuringly at him. “Of course. She has been waiting for you.”

He took her from your arms and almost in an instant, she stopped crying. His eyebrows drew together as he held her, watching his little girl intently. The way he cradled her and calmed her down could have you think he had been doing this for Merlin knows how long. You watched them, a feeling of relief washing over you. Tom had finally overcome his inner demons and both of you knew there was no going back now. After a while she fell asleep as he walked around the room with her, whispering sweet, yet for you inaudible words to her.

“You go to bed. I will stay here with her if that’s alright.”

“That’s totally okay. Thank you for coming back.” You responded, getting up to head to bed.

Tom walked over to you and leaned in for a tender kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You replied with a warm smile and planted a soft kiss on your daughter’s cheek before heading to bed.

He then sat down on the cushioned chair, still holding her close to him. Until the storm was over, he wouldn’t leave her.

The candle on the nightstand flickered steadily, shining a faint light on her sleeping form. For the first time since he had gone out that day, a sense of peace washed over him. The rain and thunders had calmed down after a while, yet he didn’t think of returning to his own bed yet. Tom didn’t only do this for her, no, also for himself. The little boy from the orphanage needed this just as much as she did.

Sometimes she would stir slightly, making soft sounds. Tom would then shush her, tenderly swiping over her soft cheek.

She looked so peaceful like this, and he started telling her stories about his childhood, how he met you, and his plans for the future. His daughter was a big part of his life after all, she deserved to know, even if she couldn’t yet understand the meaning.

“Daddy’s going to become the most respected wizard in the whole world. Everyone will listen to me, and one day, my sweet girl, they are going to follow your commands. You will forever be my little princess. For them, though? You will be the reigning Queen. I will make sure of it.”

He stayed with her until he was on the verge of falling asleep himself, only then carefully laying her into her crib. He placed a light kiss on her forehead before he silently exited the nursery, lying down next to you. For the first time in his life, he fell asleep with a smile plastered on his otherwise emotionless face.

Never would he have thought allowing himself to love such a tiny human would heal parts of his inner child. But it did.

requested by:

@dream-your-own-way @boohbear19

[jils-things]

✮⋆˙ where the stars and the ocean align

art trade with @eternaleaf!!!! such an honor to draw the Best Skin ever for nai.b HEHEHEHE i really had so much fun doing this ehhehee im super glad we traded!!! thank you sooo much <3

[figurantedefilme]

"my pretty girl" — sam winchester.

pairing: tfem!sam winchester x gn!reader

summary: sam needs to relax and you would do anything for your girl.

cw: 18+ content, MDI!! sub!transfem!sam, softdom!gn!reader, intended to be read as sapphic, no use of y/n, there's not really a plot, kissing, inappropriate language (not sure if i can count it as dirty talk argh), masturbation (sam receives). 1.2K words.

a/n: so, this is my first smut and it must be really bad, but i was thinking so much about this girl that i had to do something. this fic was very inspired by some of my favorite writers!! i'm trying to write more and trying to improve my writing, i still have a lot to learn. constructive criticism is very welcome!! english isn't my first language. enjoy it ;)

— send me an request!! <3

sam had been acting strange since you left in the afternoon to investigate some witnesses under FBI cover, and you only realized why when you got in the car and you could take a look at her crotch and saw how tight her pants were and how she was uncomfortable, all the way to the motel fidgeting in the seat. when you got to the room, sam opened the door and hurried in and sat on the bed while you closed the door.

"i think i'll take a shower first, okay?" sam said, searching her backpack for some clean and comfortable clothes.

"hm, okay, you can go first," you said, sitting down next to her, putting one hand on her shoulder. "only if you don't do anything and let me take care of this for you." you palmed sam's cock over her pants, she shivered and let out a moan that sounded more like a sigh, shivering at your touch, but tried to hide it by looking away.

"o-okay," she was already blushing, you could feel the heat radiating from her needy body. She stared at you for a moment and hesitantly gave you a sweet and soft kiss. "i need you so much, babe." she wrapped her arms around your waist and buried her face in your neck.

"what's got you so excited, baby?" you said, running your fingers through her soft hair.

"argh," you could feel her face getting hotter. "i couldn't look at you in that outfit." she tightened her grip on your waist.

"oh, you like seeing me in a suit?" she nodded. "okay, i'll keep it then," you threaded your fingers through her hair and gave it a little tug so she would look at you. "how about we take off some of those clothes of yours and you lay down on the bed for me, hm?" you said in a teasing tone, which only made her blush more. she just nodded and stood up.

she took off her coat, shoes and belt, but when she started to unbutton her shirt, you stood up and grabbed her wrists.

"leave this to me, okay?" then you started to unbutton her shirt slowly just to tease her, always with your eyes fixed on hers. you took off her pants and left her with only her underwear.

you gave up on teasing her when you saw how sore she must be, so you asked her to lie on her back on the bed with some pillows, relax, and let you do your job.

so you climbed on top of her, knelt down, without sitting on her lap- and started kissing her. you kissed her with desire, with your hands on her face and let her enjoy the moment for a while. you wanted her to relax, lately she was very tense with all the work and you just wanted her to feel good for a while, at least.

you began to kiss her down, wet kisses on her jaw, neck, until you reached her covered breasts. you looked at her as if asking for permission, she nodded and leaned her back a little. you unbuttoned them and threw them somewhere in the room.

so you started kissing and sucking her breasts, leaving some marks but always with so much care, as if she was made of glass and would break at any moment, you were adoring her and her body, you just wanted her to feel good and loved.

"honey, p-please?" sam was tired and sore, she just wanted to relax a little and was asking you to do it for her.

"it's okay, honey, it's okay." You told her and started to move lower on her lap until you were face to face with her panties.

"c-come on, please, i need you so bad." she said beggingly, she was thrusting her hips up almost without realizing it.

you slipped your fingers into the waistband of her panties, pulling them down enough for your cock to pop out. the tip was so red, and pre-cum was dripping almost all around its circumference. from the look on sam's face and the state she was in, you felt like she was going to explode with just one touch.

"so needy, baby, do you need me?" you grabbed sam's cock and started pumping him really slowly.

"y-yes, faster, please, it hurts..." she was almost crying, she was writhing underneath you.

"i'll give you what you want, my pretty girl, i'll give you everything you want." you started going faster, sometimes slamming your hand on sam's hip, running your thumb over the tip to use the pre-cum as lubricant, sometimes squeezing a little, wanting to take everything sam could give.

"a-ahh, baby, i-i'm gonna cum." sam said, some tears started to run down her face, she was trying to hold it in but she couldn't hold it in anymore.

"okay baby, cum for me, love, be a good girl." you sped up with your hand, squeezing a little more until with a loud moan like a scream, sam finally came, dirtying his abdomen, your hand and a little of your face.

after catching her breath a little, she looked embarrassed, still with her face red, she whispered. "i'm sorry"

"sorry for what, love? you were great," you said, smiling at your girlfriend, lightly running your hand over her thigh.

"i was so needy that i couldn't hold back and i got you all dirty..." she hid her face with her hands.

"heyy, don't worry, okay? i like doing this for you, and it's okay, I'm glad you relaxed at least a little, i can see it on your face. how about we take a bath together and go to sleep afterwards, hm?"

"that's fine by me, love," she sat down and pulled you next to her and gave you a kiss. "i love you so much."

"i love you too, pretty girl."

[hiraethwrote]

Imagine trying to escape an annoying ex who just will not leave you alone. And one day, around lunchtime, you’re so unlucky as to run into them in a cafe. They start badgering you about grabbing a bite together when you just blurt out “I’m actually here on a date!”

They instantly start grimacing and asking all sorts of questions about who this might be, causing you to panic. “Aah, there he is!” You desperately grab the arm of the next person to enter the cafe, hoping they’re able to read the situation and then have the decency to play along.

That random individual is no other than Satoru, who looks absolutely baffled by the abrupt encounter. His eyes darts between your ex and you, pleading with your eyes to help you out.

It takes him less than a second to make up his mind, slinging his arm over your shoulders and flashing your ex a smug grin — and then he commits wholeheartedly to the bit. He starts lying through his teeth about how much he enjoyed your last date, that he just picked up that book you recommended and he thought you might want to go to a botanical garden for your next meeting.

Eventually, your ex has had enough of the sight and leaves the cafe — you exhale deeply and relief washes over you. And once you begin to thank the stranger, he notices just how pretty you are. Kind eyes, a warm little smile that lingered after having laughed along to his performance, and a frame that simply seems to fit next to him.

The little unexpected interaction has caused you to run late. Rushing out a million little thank you’s, before pulling out your wallet. You pay for what you came for, then hand him some cash, “I’d love to pay for your lunch but I have to run. So just, take this, thank you again!” You chuckle lightly before quickly backing out of the cafe.

In your hurried haze, Satoru barely gets a word in. What really bothers him, is how he never managed to get your name before you’re out of there, and from that moment you’re stuck on his mind.

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[bratbby333]

satosugu & their favorite lady ♡ poly head cannons

`⭐︎ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ bc who doesn't love when their two boyfriends are also bf + bf?

nsfw mdni; fem!reader, 3sum, anäl, dbl. penētration, oral, yaoi, use of pet names. banner fan art from pinterest

poor suguru, having to work overtime to keep the two of you in check—your unyielding energy bounces off of satoru's childlike enthusiasm, creating quite an unhinged environment. and of course geto switches into dad-mode when it comes to y'all, but he wouldn't have it any other way...not willing to give up what he has, loving how silly his lovers are.

satoru’s definitely the physical touch lover while suguru handles words of affirmation: they take turns showering you in praise in the form of soft touches and gentle kisses while they removing your clothes, two sets of hands running up and down your soft skin.

this dynamic also manifests in public, with satoru being your go-to for steamy dancing and drunken make-out sessions in the middle of the club, while suguru sits observantly at a table off to the side.

when he finally feels that it’s time to go, he’ll join the two of you on the dance floor, his chest pressed flush with your back as you continue to lock lips with satoru. you grind against him, assuming he's finally joining in on all the fun. but his hands pull at your hips before running up your body and cupping the underside of your jaw, quite literally having to peel your mouth away from satoru's. "hey...wha- i wasn't done," you grumble. suguru only chuckles in response. "let's get outta here, you two..." he mumbles. satoru attempts to reconnect his lips with yours before a stern "satoru," rumbles from suguru's chest. your blue-eyed lover pouts, of course, before reluctantly agreeing.

suguru loves hitting it from the back while you suck satoru off, the sloppy sounds of both your holes filling the heady air the room as the three of you chase your releases

and of course, satoru would get creative and suggest a challenge, a little competition to see who finishes first, just for funsies; "bet i'd last the longest". he'd be so fucking smug about it, too. and nine times out of ten, you and suguru would create an alliance and work together to literally break satoru; not only does he finish first but he cums over, and over, and over again. you and sugu take turns bringing him to his breaking point, and after his third orgasm, he's begging to switch so he can get one of you off instead. but you just can't stop. and why would you? he just looks so pretty as his hips buck off the bed, sweat glistening on his skin with his flustered cheeks and swollen lips, while his body trembles with every gasping breath. you swear he does this shit on purpose, plotting for this outcome because he's been feeling super needy lately.

they just love pleasing their precious girl

you're straddling suguru, your forearms resting against his chest as your nails dig into his skin. satoru is pounding into you from behind, his hands anchored on your hips. he tucks his chin into his clavicle to watch as your gushing cunt sucks him in so greedily. suguru pulls your head down, your cheek resting against his shoulder as his fingers reach under you to play with your clit, sultry words of praise leaving his lips and going straight to your listening ears, "feels good, doesn't it baby? uh uh, don't move. keep takin' him...y'doin so good." you whimper as toru’s impressive length reaches unimaginable depths inside you, the sweet squelches of your needy pussy spurring him on as he drives into you even harder. sugu’s fingers keep working at your throbbing clit while you bite and suck on his neck, interrupted by the symphony of soft ahh’s and ooo’s falling from your swollen lips. a few more rough thrusts and rapid circles against your clit and you’re falling apart on satoru’s cock, spraying all over the their thighs. you gasp and whine when you feel satoru pull out, only for suguru to lift you up and quickly take his place, sheathing himself in your pulsing walls. “you ready, baby?” you glance over you shoulder, watching as satoru sucks his fingers into his mouth, a cheeky smirk on his face, your cock drunk brain too dizzy to respond. you nod, groaning at the feeling of his long, slender digits playing with your ass, dipping in to the second knuckle. satoru works to stretch you out in preparation for you to take them both. your face contorts at the dull ache. "look at me...focus on me, princess," suguru rasps, redirecting your attention to him as he slowly pumps in and out of your gummy walls. your nails scratch down his chest as you rest your forehead against his, breathing deeply in an attempt to relax your body for the inevitable stretch. you already feel so full, your pussy absolutely drenched, your arousal dribbling out around sugu’s girth, but you grow even wetter in anticipation for your two boyfriends to take you at the same time

and if you thought it would be a peaceful transition into sleep after y'all finish fucking, you would be sorely mistaken...the three of you constantly fight for the middle spot in the bed. correction, you and satoru are the ones bickering. as the two of you argue, suguru finds his place and waits for y'all to follow suit, and more often than not, it's suguru in the middle, laying on his back, as you and satoru tuck yourselves under each of his arms and curling into his side, legs thrown over his waist.

it's a very balanced relationship. the three of y'all have your designated nights to cook dinner, your assigned spots on the couch (though you occasionally fight over what to watch), a copasetic routine for showering, going to work, running errands together. and when one of y'all is out of town for work, the two left over keep each other company. it's perfect, a home full of love and laughter.

y'all loooove having threesomes, but sometimes it's too much logistically. and that's totally fine...nothing wrong with some one on one action, whether it be you and toru or sugu and you or the two men having their fun alone.

you arrive home, expecting to be entrapped in a double bearhug by your two boyfriends, only to hear moans and grunts echoing down the hallway. you laugh to yourself as you make your way upstairs. opening the bedroom door, you're greeted by a smiling suguru being topped off by his blond counterpart. "hey baby, how was work?" he asks casually, not even acknowledging the fact that he's actively getting head. you smile softly, walking to the edge of the bed and placing a gentle peck on suguru's waiting lips. "mmm, it was a pretty rough shift...i'm gonna go take a long, hot shower," you reply, exhaustion evident in your voice. satoru sits up, continuing to jerk suguru off. with his free hand, he wipes the spit from his chin, grinning ear to ear as you lean in to kiss him, too. "you sure you don't wanna join us?" "not right now, toru, but i might when i get out," you smile as you walk to the dresser, grabbing a change of clothes before heading toward the master bathroom. you turn back around to face the two of them, giggling at the disappointed looks on their faces. when the door closes, the wet sounds and breathy moans fill the bedroom once more. but of course, not even five minutes into your peaceful shower, your back is pressed up against the tile wall as satoru's tongue laps at your throbbing clit. "this is the best way to decompress, baby," he says before his fingers dip into your core and his lips reattach to your sensitive bud. "f-fuck, toru...feels s'good..." as you surrender to the bliss, you hear the bathroom door open and close. seems like suguru was feeling left out. so much for your alone time, huh?

loneliness is no longer apart of the equation for you. after years of failed relationships and agonizing heartbreaks, you have finally found peace, your yin and yang. you have your boys, and they have you.

author notes: stsg has had me in a fuckin chokehold recently so i had to get this outta my head. i just rly rly want two boyfriends so so bad and i want my two boyfriends to also be boyfriends. ugh. is that too much to ask? ♡

©bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

[lemonlover1110]

Toji Fushiguro

Summary: Megumi needs help after committing a crime.

Warnings: Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Papa…” Megumi looks at his father with glossy eyes, ready to shed a tear at any moment. It’s very rare for Megumi to seek his father for help, so Toji is willing to drop anything to tend to the child. Toji gets off the couch and crouches down to be at Megumi’s level.

“What is it?” Toji asks, ready to fight just about anyone. Whoever did something to his son is going to pay, one way or another.

“I broke mama’s vase.” Megumi is nearly sniffling as he confesses to his grave crime. Something that’s barely a crime, Toji hated that hideous vase anyway (he still loves you, even with your bad taste in furniture). However, Toji is confused why Megumi comes to him to confess.

“Alright… Do you need me to tell her?” Toji responds, and Megumi shakes his little head frantically. “Then what?”

“I need help cleaning it up.” Megumi responds, and Toji begins to look around. Is there any police nearby? The little guy must be wired up. Toji lifts up Megumi’s paw patrol shirt and checks to see if there’s a microphone taped to him. You’re trying to catch him committing a crime… But when he realizes Megumi is being genuine, Toji sighs.

“Let’s get the broom.” Toji says, a frown on his face as he thinks about why Megumi ran to him and not to you. You’re usually so sweet and comforting, why would the child seek out Toji of all people? 

Megumi follows behind like a little duckling, hoping to be of help to his father. Toji grabs the broom, and before he heads over to the mess that Megumi made, Toji can’t help but ask, “Why didn’t you ask mom to help?”

“She’s scary.” Megumi doesn’t hesitate before answering, and Toji’s eyes widen. Did Megumi seriously just say that?

“Your mom is scary, so you come to me for help?” Toji sounds offended– Because he is. Megumi nods in response, and Toji bites down his tongue. He won’t scare the child, there has to be one parent that Megumi can tell everything to. Somehow, someway, Toji ended up with the role. 

“You know what?” Toji begins as he sees the mess that Megumi made. He can’t blame the little guy, “I’m scared of your mom too.”

[nappingmoon]

modern au where your husband nanami is a literature professor and he sits you on his lap while he reads essays and prepares lecture material. he gets so used to the weight of you on his thigh, the warmth of your body against his, that eventually, he finds that he cannot focus without you there.

nanami is a little sheepish when he enters the living room, hemming a little bit in a way that’s very uncharacteristic of your lover. your eyes stray from the show playing on the television, now curiously tracking his small movements. you pause the contents on the tv before greeting him. “hi baby, you okay? how’s grading going?”

nanami’s hand reaches up to adjust his glasses before he releases a little sigh. “not well, my love.” his voice is quiet, the deep timber a comforting sound. he walks into the kitchen as he continues, “I’ve been working on reading these papers, but I find my mind straying far too much.” he finishes his sentence while pouring water into the kettle, placing it then on the stove.

“is that so?” you ask, leaning over the arm of the chair, enjoying, as always, the sight of your lover doing mundane tasks— the domesticity of it never ceasing to affect you, even after years of marriage. “where’s your mind been going?” despite the question, you have an idea and the smile on your face betrays it.

nanami hesitates as retrieves two cups from the cupboard; the beautiful, delicate china a wedding gift that has become the staple for holding your evening teas. “you, darling. though it is becoming apparent that you already knew that, tease.” he grumps at the end without malice.

“I assumed, but I always love to hear it.” you giggle in return. “want me to come keep you company?”

he’s nearly done pouring your teas, steeping the loose leaves in your favorite tea holders. “yes, please. if you’d like, you can watch your show in the room. I just prefer you do it next to me.”

“that’s alright, I was getting bored of it anyways. plus, i’d rather watch that quirk in your eyebrow when you find that your student has used ‘perchance’ incorrectly again.”

“minx.” he chides. “keep making fun of me and i’ll forget to put in your sugar.”

“I yield! I yield,” you laugh, raising your hands high in defeat. “it’s far too bitter without the sugar, I don’t know how you make do.”

the small spoon clinks as he finishes stirring in your honey and sugar, and he lays it down in the sink before picking up the cups, each sitting in their own decorated porcelain plates. you rise from the couch, quickly pressing the ‘off’ button on the remote before padding over to your husband.

you gently nudge your way under his arm, wary of the tea he’s carrying, and nuzzle yourself into him. you walk in tandem to your room approaching the warm glow of his desk lamp. “I don’t need any more sugar; you’re enough for me, sweetness.”

a/n: you can’t just say perchance

[kolsmikaelson]

AND THEN THERE WERE THREE…

NOTES — just saw challengers today and absolutely needed to write smth for these two! only used a gif of art because theres none of the two of them and almost none for patrick </3, i’m a little rusty with smut so bare with me

WARNINGS — 18+ content mdni, slight challengers 2024 spoilers, fem!reader, kinda dom!art, pure smut/little plot, art/patrick interactions, talk of previous art/patrick sexual encounters, spit play, oral (m receiving), tit sucking, dirty talk, mentions of anal, little bit of aftercare, not proofread, lmk if i forgot anything!

REQUEST — Pls write a smut fic with reader and Art fucking in the hotel room (with Patrick watching) and reader asking if Patrick can join them and ofc Art can’t say no because he finds the idea of this super hot. Maybe reader makes Art and Patrick make out like in the movie 👀

WORD COUNT — 1.6k

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None of you were too sure how exactly this had started. You, Art, and Patrick had stumbled back into their hotel room after leaving the beach, each of you finding your own place to sit after Patrick opened up a beer, took a swig, and passed the can to you. You’d taken a seat closer to Art, having naturally gravitated towards him more so than Patrick. And quickly, you and Art were making out, leaving Patrick to watch. 

You blamed the beer. And the fact that you found both Art and Patrick incredibly hot. One minute you’re at a party, dedicated to your best friend, Tashi Duncan, and the next you’re sitting on the beach being invited back to the guys’ hotel room, and the next after that, Art is stripping you of your clothes while Patrick takes a seat leaned up against the wall opposite the foot of the bed. 

“Can I-” He begins, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt, desperation clear in his eyes. At your nod, Art quickly yanks your shirt over your head and immediately pulls your body flush against his. He’s planting soft, wet kisses up and down your neck as his fingers work the back of your bra. His eyes widen the moment it drops to the ground. 

Giving you a moment's glance he quickly sucks one nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking and biting. Feeling as though he’s neglected the other one, he pinches and tugs on the opposite nipple, smiling around the one in his mouth at the moans you let out. 

“Yeah, baby? You like this? Me with your tits in my mouth and my best friend jerking off while watching us?”

For a moment, you’d forgotten about Patrick. Your eyes shoot open, landing on him instantly. The sight of him, slouched against the wall, his hand already wrapped around his cock, with his eyes fixated on both you and Art. He looked so hot, you weren’t sure how you’d forgotten that he was even there. 

“Mhm, ‘s hot.” you admitted, turning Arts face back to you, tugging his bottom lip back into your mouth. The blond pushes you back onto the beds that were pushed together - Patrick’s idea if anyone were to ask - and begins kissing up your stomach only stopping long enough to kiss each of your nipples. He grabs your face, pushing his fingers into your cheeks, making you open your mouth, before letting a large glob of spit fall from his mouth into yours. 

“Swallow.” He smiles when you do so without complaint, even going as far as to look as if you wanted him to do it again. 

Patrick moans at that, louder than before. Sure he and Art had messed around before, when they were both single and bored and needed a good fuck, that wasn’t new, but hearing that commanding tone in the blonds voice sent a shiver down his spine. 

“God, that was hot.” Patrick sighs, laughing when Art gives him the finger. 

“Fuck off, Patrick.” Both of them know he doesn’t mean it, if he wasn’t wanted there, you or Art would’ve said something, but you didn’t. whether Art knew it or not, both you and he wanted him to stay, and keep watching.

At some point during that interaction, you weren’t sure when exactly, Art had shed his pants and underwear. He was dragging the tip up and down your slit, up and down, stopping every few seconds to slap your clit with it. When your eyes finally landed on his length, it made your jaw drop. He was big, bigger than you’d seen before, he was long and girthy with veins running along the bottom of it. 

He slowly slides into you, admiring the look of pure bliss on your face. He’d never seen anyone look so angelic. The closest comparison he could make was how Patrick looked when he’d first given him a blow job. He wouldn’t call the look on Patrick's face angelic perse, but it was hot, really hot. The reminder of that, and the way you’ve begun clenching around him, spurs him into you. His hips snapping into yours, his heavy balls hitting your ass with each thrust. It was unlike anything either of you had felt before. 

I want him to join.

You weren’t sure that the words had actually left your mouth until the blond on top of you stopped his thrusts, looking into your eyes for a moment. 

“That what you want, baby?” He murmurs, kissing sloppily up and down your neck, shivers running through your entire body at his touch. His fingers falling to your clit, flicking at it. The pleasure was almost enough to make you forget that he’d even asked a question. 

Almost. 

“Please,” Even in your fucked out state, you couldn’t help but want more. 

“Come on, Zweig. You heard her.” Patrick grins, hopping to his feet, although slightly hesitant. He wasn’t sure where to go, or what to do. But his nerves dissolved the moment Art turned around, and gave him that look, one that he knew meant that everything would be okay. It meant that he just needed to get over himself and have a good time, everything would work out. After that he’s on the move towards you, giving Art a harsh slap to the ass as he goes past him, laughing when Art swats back at him. 

Patrick all but flies onto the bed, having kicked his underwear off the moment he stood up, and his shirt is long gone, a mix of yours, his, and Arts clothes are scattered around the hotel room, sure to have lost at least one thing. But none of you had it in you to care, too overwhelmed with pleasure. Your mouth opens before he’s even fully on the bed, but he gets the message, quickly positioning his tip in front of your mouth, thrusting a few times before losing control and fucking your throat. 

The three of you move in tandem for minutes, or maybe it was hours, Art would thrust into you, rubbing your clit with his fingers, while Patrick would be pulling himself out of your mouth at the same time. It felt as though this was a regular occurrence, as though it were normal. And god did you hope it would become a normal thing. The three of you, together, making each other feel good. 

Tapping Patricks thigh lightly, you hum happily when he pulls out of your mouth, giggling at how quickly he begins to check and make sure you’re okay. 

“What? What’s wrong? Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” The words come out of his mouth at lightning speed and it’s difficult for you to understand, but Art had and his thrusts slowed to a stop, hands leaving your body, giving you a questioning look as if repeating everything his friend had just said. 

“I’m fine baby,” And then you say something neither of them could quite hear. 

“Gotta speak up for us, sweetheart. Can’t do what you want us to do otherwise.” That comes from Patrick, Art nodding along with him. 

“Want you two to kiss.” The words fly out of your lips and you’re suddenly shy, pressing your face into Patricks thigh, nipping at it softly. 

Both men smirk at you before making eye contact with each other, giving a subtle nod. 

“Well c’mon man, you know how I like it.”

The combination of Arts words, his sudden thrusts and Patrick taking it upon himself to flick at your clit, push you over the edge. The power of your orgasm makes your legs shake, your mind empty of anything this isn’t you, Patrick, or Art. 

They’re still kissing, it’s all teeth and tongue and spit. It’s messy, and it only stops long enough for Arts mouth to fall open, moans spilling out as he comes inside of you, hot spurts of his come flooding your insides, leaving a white ring around the base of his cock as he fucks you through both of your orgasms. 

At this point, Patrick has taken a step back, and is watching again. He’s stroking himself with one hand, squeezing just right and out of nowhere, Art reaches out, cupping the dark haired man's balls, tugging and rubbing on them just the way Patrick likes. The added pleasure sends him crashing over the edge, he barely has the time to move and aim his cum to where you and Art are connected, spilling himself all over your cunt and Arts cock. 

Art pulls out and the three of you fall into a pile of heavy breathing, sweat, spit, and cum on the beds pushed into the middle of the room. Once you all catch your breath, Patrick is the first to speak. 

“Wow.” It was simple, but it made you all burst out laughing. 

“Wow, indeed.” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his pec, turning to do the same to Art. 

“That was fucking hot.” Arts words make you all giggle yet again. 

“Okay,” Patrick leans you into Art and pushes himself off of the bed, “‘m gonna get you two cleaned up, be right back.” He reassures you, hearing you whine at losing his presence. He comes back with a warm washcloth in hand, and a small cup of water in his other. He hands the water to Art motioning for him to take a drink and then give you some as well, while he bends at the waist, resting his knees on the floor and taking the cloth to your core, cleaning you as gently as he could before moving onto Art. Tossing the cloth to the corner of the room he pulls both you and Art into his embrace, enjoying the quiet for a moment before you break the silence. 

“Round two? Whoever makes me cum harder gets to fuck me here first.” You smile slyly, placing your hand on your ass, giggling when Patrick snatches you from Arts hold, muttering something about how he ‘got you first last time and that it’s his turn now.’

[irisinluv]

Isekaied as the Yandere Villain!? Pt 2

Part one

It was almost 2 minutes before I realized I was still dragging the crown prince behind me. I quickly dropped his hand and looked at him, not able to hide the embarrassment on my face. Listen- I’m committed to the bit. I WILL be the crazy jealous fiancé. But… I’m still human ok. I just dragged a full grown man down several halls and a flight of stairs while I spaced out thinking about how I’m gonna buy my cat premium wet food once I get back home to her.

It’s fine, I’m not flustered at spacing out about my cat, my characters just flustered because she’s been holding the hand of the man she’s obsessed with, that’s all!

“Well…. Did you still want to dine and take that walk?”

I expected him to scold me for my mistreatment of Cressida, grow irritated from me dragging him along like this. Instead, he chuckles and threads his arm in mine, and begins escorting me down the hall.

“Absolutely, have you dined outside by the roses yet? There’s this lovely pavilion that I am eager to hear your thoughts on.”

And that’s how I found myself under an impressive array of roses, all trained up and around a cozy dining area, creating a canopy of green and pink over an intimate tea table. The food was equally impressive, I had to keep reminding myself that the other me is used to this lavish lifestyle, to not gawk at the fancy tiny sandwiches and deserts.

“Well? Is everything to your liking? ”

I’m going off script here, how am I supposed to know how the villainess would react to a romantic scene like this?? If my “evil crazy” side isn’t supposed to be directed at him, and she’s usually kinda distant and unsure around him…. That means I should probably respond pretty curtly, polite, yet not really engaging. But…. I’ve already messed that up…. I guess I can be more genuine when it’s the two of us like this. He can think that this version of me is the facade, that I’m pretending to be pleasant, and then will start to see what a jerk “I” truly am when Cressida’s around. Besides…. I almost feel bad for the villainess. She really just seems like she was shy. Who knows- maybe, if given the opportunity, she really would have opened up more. It’s clear she loved the prince, and just didn’t know how to show it. So, with that thought, I made up my mind.

“It’s breathtaking! Roses are my favorite flower, and I’ve never seen so many kinds in bloom at once…. Plus the food and company leave little to be desired.”

There you go- slip in some subtle flirting! I’m not quite sure what time period this is supposed to be, but I get the impression flirting as bit more high class here, and I think I can have some fun with that.

“I’m glad, to be honest I was a bit flustered asking you to dine with me… you caught me quite off guard today, but in a good way.” He reaches his hand across the table and places it on my own, “I’d like to do this more often, you and I. I feel like the confines of our current arrangement have left us practically strangers, despite being engaged for several months already. I’m enjoying just being companionable with you, even if it’s just existing comfortably in the same room.”

Ohhhh, I know I’m the villain in this story but I can’t help but root for him- what a sweetheart! It’s so obvious he’s been lonely, I can’t wait for him and Cressida to fall in love and have a couple of kids that they’ll spoil rotten. And in the meantime…. Maybe I do have a bit of evil in me, because I’m going to selfishly enjoy this handsome man treating me to lunches under roses and reading in cozy libraries while I can.

“I know exactly how you feel your highness. Now, you mentioned a walk?”

We spent the afternoon laughing and chatting, and it felt nice to chat without worrying too much about my role. He asked me about that book I picked out earlier, and listened attentively as I caught him up with where I’m at in the plot. In turn, I asked about what papers he’s been signing, documents he’s been drafting, etc.

The only thing I had to do was send glares to any young ladies we passed, settling my hand on his arm possessively, and I saw their eyes widen and faces disappear behind fans as they whisper to one another. I can picture this illustrated in a manhwa- the nasty princess sinking her claws into the gullible prince�� hopefully all these ladies will start gossiping and we can really cement this evil persona of mine now that Cressida’s here.

When we returned to our separate apartments, I explored my rooms a bit until servants came to get me ready for dinner, and I slipped back into the frigid bitch persona. The servant girls dressed me in a slightly stuffy gown, but I had to admit, I looked gorgeous. I sat stiff and straight as they did my hair, forcing myself to be the very picture of cold indifference. I then dismissively thanked them for their help, then sat there awkwardly as they stared at me like I was crazy.

Ohhhh shit…. The original story hadn’t prepared me for this. My character was a villain, yes, but a side character for the most part! How was she supposed to act towards her servants? I went over what I knew- the novel showed the villainess alone quite often, usually obsessing over Eric and plotting/stalking. It showed her with Eric, and how distant and awkward their relationship was when together. And then of course the numerous scenes with Cressida where the Villainess did all sorts of heinous things to the sweet girl. But… it never depicted her with servants, or even any friends or other nobles. Just… Eric and Cressida. Was other me not actually a bitch all the time? Am I being unnecessarily rude right now? Oh god I’m such an idiot.

The story is told through Cressida’s point of view- of course there’s more depth to my own character than I initially thought! The Villianess must be a misunderstood introvert! Unsure of how to act around her crush, she’s fiercely insecure and jealous of this new girl who doesn’t struggle the same way she does. When she notices the prince slipping from her grasp, she acts out against Cressida because she can’t bear to lose Eric!

As someone’s who’s worked minimum wage jobs and struggled with social anxiety most of my life, I try to be nice to the people just working to survive, but here I am acting like these poor women are the dirt beneath my shoe…. Ok. Um. Well they’re still standing there in shock, I can fix this….

“You really did a lovely job… my hair has never looked so gorgeous, you’re truly talented! And I think the prince will be very pleased with this choice of ribbon!”

There- I was nicer, and I brought it back to Eric, so I’m still the lovesick fiancé whose entire world is waiting for her in the dining room. I frowned as the servants scuttled out of the room with hurried excuses, all of them looking like they were about to faint. Damn it… I can’t believe I misread the relationship between us. I probably just ruined their night by being uncharacteristically rude. I’ve gotta learn their names next time…. Maybe ask them to help me eat some fancy pastries as an apology…?

I didn’t know it, but while I was lamenting how wrong I was about the Villainess’ character, the servants were all gossiping to the others about what had just transpired.

“You’re telling me she said THANK YOU!?”

“Yes!!! And then you should have seen how nervous she got! She just rambled, blurting out such a sweet compliment, and she even tied it back to the prince!”

“I had no idea how precious she was… I can’t believe I never realized she’s just shy! In a new place, all alone aside from her new fiancé…. Who I gather she’s got a bit of a crush on! Poor dear.”

“Ohh our sweet girl, I’m sure it must be hard bonding with the prince, when all you do is sit yards apart and hardly speak …”

“Well I may have some news about that… and it’s no wonder she was a bit flustered today, because I saw the two of them in the gardens today! They were both nothing but smiles- absolutely smitten with one another!”

“Such a lovely girl, and we never knew it all this time!”

Apparently, I had it backwards. The real villainess truly was a 2D, basic character. She was insecure and possessive over the prince, bullying Cressida half to remind her who Eric belonged to, half for the fun of it. But she didn’t let on to anyone about the true depth of her love for him. She didn’t gossip to her handmaid, didn’t ask the servants which dress he would like better. Simply acted as if they did not exist, hardly saying a word to them.

While I thought my blunt “thank you” was colder than they were used to, and then tried to smooth things over…. It was more words than they’d heard from me in the whole time I’d lived in the palace. They lapped it up and declared me their own shy little dove after that.

When I arrived to dinner, I realized why daily dinners weren’t exactly a bonding activity for the villainess and Eric. The table was massive, and only held two chairs, one at either end. It felt so…. Cold?

Eric had beat me there, and quickly stood up from his seat, waiting until I sat and a servant pushed in my chair to retake his own seat. He smiled at me and said,

“Good evening, princess.”

He had to project his voice slightly. It wasn’t like he was shouting or being loud, it was just the manner of speaking you use when talking to an elderly relative, clearer, and enunciating better so they could hear you.

I replied back, projecting my voice similarly, and found the conversation was, in fact, more awkward than it had been earlier. We ate our food mostly in silence, occasionally one of us would say something and the other would stop moving their utensils on their plate, listening closer as they ask,

“What’s that?”

By the time dinner was over and we each went to bed, I felt drained. I could have just been louder I suppose- but it’s so hard to keep up a conversation like that. I know we get along- we had chatted all afternoon after all. But some part of me realized it’s probably good to keep a bit of distance between us, even if I’ve rewritten things to be a bit chummier between the two of us. Cressida needs to swoop in and steal him from me… and my job is still to leave that room for her to do so.

It’s hard trying to be someone else, yet also making sure you lead the plot in the right direction- it’s exhausting! I feel like both director and actress!

It’s with this in mind that I launch myself into the softest bed I’d ever felt, and passed out. My first day as princess consort, the Yandere fiancé, complete.

While I was getting acquainted with my feather bed, Eric was speaking with the head waitstaff.

“Yes, tomorrow, would you mind adjusting the seating situation? I’d like for the princess consort and I to be closer together from now on. Yes, and ask my assistant to arrange my schedules like so, I’ve detailed it here. Thank you.”

At the same time, Cressida was recounting her run in with the prince and I to her handmaiden as she finishing unpacking and settling into her family’s guest apartments. Which, unbeknownst to me… was right across the hall.

Aaaa! You survived your first day! And look at you- doing suuuuch a good job staying true to character. Nothing could go wrong… right?

Tag list for the series;

@bitternsweet @tonightwrites @confused-they @lanxianschoenheit @poptrim @siriuslyobsessedwithfiction @one-really-annoying-tree-rat @anonymousdisco @forbidden-sunlight

Tag list closed! Stay tuned for part 3!

[rinneverse]

࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚! — 𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒊 𝒚𝒖𝒖𝒋𝒊. ˒ ⊹

me and my roommate get drunk one night and end up fucking!!!! oh my god, this is so awkward…

୨ৎ syn. it’s your final year of uni—after midterms come to a close, you decide to celebrate by getting absolutely SMASHED with your roommate, itadori yuuji. much to your chagrin, this decision comes with a boatload of consequences. how do you navigate the awkward morning after with your golden retriever of a roommate!? (4.8k)

୨ৎ pairing. itadori yuuji x f!reader

୨ৎ cw. modern au, fem!reader, both yuuji and reader are in their final year of uni and are implied to be 21+, alcohol mentions, drunk sex, dubious consent (read prev warning), pet names used (baby, pretty, angel), oral (f!receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, dealing w/ the repercussions of fucking your roommate the morning after (but it ended up alot more fluffier and romantic than i intended because i love him), minors + ageless blogs dni! 18+ content under the cut!!

୨ৎ love, oak! oh christ almighty. i like itadori yuuji a normal amount. i just really really think he'd make the perfect boyfriend ever. first time writing for him so hoping and praying he isn’t incredibly ooc but regardless,, hope u guys like this i wrote it with my entire clit :3 crossposted to ao3 here!

[ main m.list! ┊coming soon... ]

“Yuu~ji!”

Your lilting voice carries through the shared living space of your apartment. Shuffling in through the entryway, the door clicks shut behind you as you peer around the corner of the entrance hallway.

“You there? Yu?”

You hear a muted groan come from the couch in response.

Toeing off your shoes with a giggle and setting them onto the shoe-rack (the same shoe-rack you constantly have to pester Yuuji about—”Yu, don’t just leave your shoes on the floor! The rack is right there!”—every other day), you peek over the back of the fluffy couch in the living area and find Yuuji sprawled on his stomach over it, face shoved in a pillow.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Like I’m dying,” comes his muffled reply.

You reach a hand down to tousle his already messy bubblegum pink hair. He weakly bats a hand at you.

“Surely you can live a little longer for a night out with your favorite roommate?”

With a grunt, Yuuji flips over, lying on his back. He blinks once, twice. Then he grins; that familiar, radiant grin that makes your heart speed up a little in your chest. You can feel your own smile widen in response.

“I think I can do that,” he says, propping himself up on his elbows. He tilts his head at you. “You’re not gonna pass out on me again though, are you?”

Your eyes narrow slightly in challenge. Bringing your face closer to his by leaning over the couch, you reply snarkily, “and you’re not gonna force me to shoulder you the whole way home again, are you?”

Yuuji’s eyes widen at the new proximity, a faint rosiness rising to his cheeks that makes you giddy. His throat bobs before he replies, “No, promise I won’t.”

You think you see his eyes flick down momentarily—towards the swell of your chest, exposed by the low-cut top you had chosen to wear today—causing a smug sense of satisfaction to pool in your tummy. You lean further, the urge to be a tease winning out over your usual sense: over the notion that you shouldn’t be flirting with the guy you live with. It's entirely a bad idea (and yet here you are, doing it anyways).

Yuuji’s lips part slightly; when he meets your gaze again, there’s hunger shining in his big brown eyes, hazy and diluted by conflict. You can see the inner strife going on in his head already: he shouldn’t be feeling this way about his roommate. He shouldn’t be a perv.

You shouldn’t be feeling this way about him either, but you just can’t help yourself. Something about the way he’s looking at you fills you with a streak of confidence that throws all common sense out of the window.

“Good. Be ready at 7?” Your tone has noticeably lowered, nearly a purr even as you smile innocently down at him.

Yuuji swallows again, still looking like a deer caught in the headlights. “Sure—okay. Sounds good!” He babbles nervously.

It’s cute. He’s cute.

“Cool. ‘m gonna get a nap in then.”

He nods his head slowly. The tension hovers in the air between you, so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Slowly, ever so slowly, you straighten, watching as his eyes never leave your form. You bite your lip and offer Yuuji a softer smile before you turn on your heel and make your way to your bedroom.

You can feel the way his eyes bore holes into your back as you walk away, skirt swishing with every step. You purposefully sway your hips a little more despite yourself and you think you hear him choke slightly, a sound that makes you feel much more smug than it realistically should.

As you close the door to your bedroom, the only thing on your mind isn’t how tired you are from dealing with midterms—it’s how Yuuji looked at you just moments ago, eyes gleaming with raw want, like you were a five star meal served on a silver platter. You clutch your chest as you flop onto your bed.

There’s always been an underlying tension between you and Yuuji. It used to be easier to ignore, something left tucked away in the corners of your mind, leaving you to instead settle for an easy friendship. Something that doesn’t complicate things, especially since you live together. There’s no avoiding any awkward encounters should either of you decide to take that step.

But lately, things have been coming to a boiling point. You’re not sure if it’s the stress of your final year of uni dawning upon you or if its just years of tension finally being pulled taut enough to snap—whatever it is, it has muddled your senses enough to find flirting with Yuuji fun instead of something forbidden. It has you pushing boundaries you never thought you would push with him before.

Oh, well. If there was any time for things to make some bad decisions and get a little complicated with your incredibly handsome roommate, your last year of uni might just be perfect. Screw the consequences.

“Yuu,” you moan, drunkenly stumbling into a wall of muscle.

Thankfully, that wall of muscle happens to be Itadori Yuuji. He wraps a strong arm around your waist, a hiccup bubbling from his lips as he grins down at you.

“Hey there,” Yuuji laughs. “You okay?”

“Yeeeeaaahhh,” you slur. “Are we home yet?”

“Almost there. Hang on a little bit more for me, okay?”

The night air is crisp and cooling against your balmy skin, a welcome relief after spending hours in a bar packed with sweaty bodies and bass thrumming through your veins. It’s breezy, fallen leaves rustling across the ground as the wind scatters them along the sidewalk. A particularly stronger gust has you pressing closer to Yuuji, your little top and skirt doing little to protect you against the autumnal weather.

Yuuji pauses, making sure you’re steady before he shrugs off his jacket.

“Here, put this on,” he says, gently maneuvering your arms into the warm sleeves. His cologne wraps around you in its embrace, warm and musky and tinged just a little bit with alcohol. You smile.

Megumi and Nobara have already made their separate ways home, the former grabbing an uber while Nobara hitched a ride home with Maki. You can’t help the way you giggle and stumble as Yuuji ushers you forward again. “Nobaraaa’s gonna geeet iiiiit,” you snicker, latching onto the hard muscle of Yuuji’s bicep to steady yourself. “Did you see the way Maki w’s lookin’ at her? I wish someone looked at me that way.”

Yuuji is probably about equally as blasted as you are (you went shot for shot, after all), but he manages to carry himself in a more sober manner than you. He lets you latch onto him like a koala as he guides you through the doors of your apartment building.

He’s quiet. Uncharacteristically so—he’s usually a chatterbox when drunk.

“Yuuji? Did’ya even hear me?” you push.

“I heard ya,” Yuuji hums, pulling you into the elevator with him. As the machinery moves up to your floor, it makes your stomach lurch—forcing you to grab onto Yuuji tighter and bury your face in his shoulder.

“Are we there yet?” You grumble into his arm, clutching him tight.

“Almost,” he replies softly. You think you feel a gentle kiss being pressed to the crown of your head, but with the way everything is spinning, you can’t be entirely sure.

Between some time and the next, you’re finally ambling into your apartment, clutching Yuuji’s jacket tight around you. As the door clicks shut, you spin to face him—

—and end up nearly face planting, if not for the way Yuuji surges forward to catch you in his arms. “Woah there,” he mumbles. “Steady. Don’t move too fast, or you’ll fall.”

Despite his words, he has to lean against the now shut door to keep himself upright, you can feel that much. You grasp the fabric of his shirt in balled fists, pressed against the sturdy surface of his chest. You can feel the way his muscles flex and roll as he shifts with the way you’re pressed up against him.

When you look up at him, doe-eyes wide, you’re met with brown eyes glimmering with want. Lust.

“Yuu… ji?” Your lips part slightly as you suck in a breath. He inhales in sync, his hands dropping to curl around your waist. He holds you gently, like a porcelain teacup on the verge of breaking.

It's quiet. There's a dazed look in his eyes as he stares at you.

“Can I kiss you?” The question falls from his lips softly—but with the silence of the apartment, so quiet you could hear a pin drop, it’s earth shattering. His eyes drop down to your glossy lips, his tongue darting out to wet his own.

You’re not in your right mind. This is a bad idea. You know this.

You don’t care.

Pulling at the collar of his shirt, you tug him down to you, lips meeting in a clash of teeth and tongue. It’s electrifying, everything you’ve ever wanted and needed in this one moment, warmth exploding in your chest like a dying star.

Fuck. You were kissing Itadori Yuuji—and it’s everything you dreamt it would be.

He pants your name amidst kisses but it’s hard to hear with your heart roaring in your ears, a drum beating an unsteady rhythm that throws you off balance in your very core. You stumble into the shoe-rack trying to hastily drag him over to the couch. Shoes clatter to the floor as you tumble into him, a moan falling from your lips as he paws at you while your hands tangle in his hair.

“I was lookin’ at you like that, you know?” Yuuji groans as the two of you fall back onto the couch. He holds you on top of him, letting you get comfy as you straddle his lap before he continues. “You haven’t noticed?”

His voice is heavy, dragging drunkenly as you stare down at him. In this position, with Yuuji laid back on the couch, you feel like you’re towering over him—giving you some semblance of control, even though you know perfectly well that Yuuji can flip you over and take you just like that. You dip your hands under his shirt, nails gently scratching against the velvet wrapped steel planes of his abs. Pushing the fabric up, you reveal the faint happy trail that begins at his navel, disappearing teasingly under the waistband of his jeans. You bite your lip.

“Hey,”—your name falls from his lips in the form of a plea, desperate and sweet—”Look at me.”

Big hands squeezing your hips force your attention back to him. You finally listen and meet his gaze, finding that his eyes are heavily eclipsed by dilated pupils, leaving a faint ring of hazel in its wake. It’s like a dark sun, or perhaps a black hole threatening to pull you into him, consumed by everything that is Itadori Yuuji.

You think you wouldn’t mind that one bit.

“Are you sure this is okay?” He’s worried, something that makes your heart warm fondly, giving you a moment of clarity amidst the fog of lust that addles your brain. The guys you typically went home with sometimes never found it in themselves to care too much about you. But Yuuji… he’s different. He does care. Yuuji continues, a touch softer, “We’re both drunk… what if we regret it in the morning?”

You slowly reach down to cradle his face in your hands. When you speak, it’s with a bold certainty that Yuuji cannot argue with: “I know I won’t regret it.”

Yuuji nods his head. With that anxiety out of the way, he surges up to kiss you with renewed vigor, tugging his jacket off of you and pulling the hem of your top over your chest to reveal your tits. When he pulls back, his eyes widen slightly as he takes in the pretty lace bra you had opted to wear out tonight.

“You’re beautiful,” Yuuji says softly. A groan catches in his throat as you roll your hips down against his, delicious friction against his erection that has you mewling for more.

“Yu,” you sigh out as he unhooks your bra with clumsy fingers, pulling your shirt off as well in one go. The garments flutter to the floor, forgotten.

“I mean it—you really are.” His voice has noticeably deepened, taking on a huskier tone that makes your toes curl. “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. I never can.”

He presses another kiss to your lips, quick and chaste, drawing a path down your jaw, the slope of your neck. He removes a hand from your waist to palm at your sensitive breast, drawing a whimper from you that has his cock twitching in his pants. “I can’t believe you’ve never noticed. Our friends tease me all the time for it, you know?” He sighs, nearly a whine, words slurring together in a lust-drunk haze as he presses a kiss to your collar. “I could never take another girl home with me because I only want you.”

Yuuji’s drunken confession sends you reeling, thighs tightening together around him as you tilt his chin up towards you. Love and adoration glimmers in your eyes as you respond gently, “I only want you, too.”

He smiles at you then, scooping you up in his arms as he rises. “Don’t wanna ruin the couch,” he murmurs, strong hands grasping at the fat of your ass as he carries you with ease. “Your room or mine?”

“Yu—” you gasp, clutching onto him for dear life, “mine, please.”

Even drunk, he moves with you with a practiced ease—as if you’ve done this your entire lives. As he lays you on your bed, he curls over you, lips pressing together messily as his hands fiddle with the hem of your skirt. There’s a brief moment where he pants, “Can I take them off, pretty? Can I?,” as he nips at your lower lip. You nod your head; immediately he’s sliding them off, leaving you in your lacy undergarments and feeling unfairly naked compared to him. You cross your arms over your chest shyly.

Yuuji smiles sweetly as he kneels, pressing a kiss to your navel.

“Don’t hide from me, baby. I wanna see you..” He trails off as he hooks his fingers under the band of your panties, eyes flicking up to yours in silent question. You can only manage to nod your head—words have entirely escaped you at this point. If you spoke, you weren’t sure what, exactly, would come out.

The way he pulls the fabric off of you is almost reverent, his eyes never leaving your body as he sets your panties to the side. His breath is hot against your skin as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Baby,” Yuuji starts, the pet name falling from his lips with ease, like something familiar, “tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

Calloused fingertips press into the sensitive flesh of your thighs as he pushes your legs open, even going as far as hooking a leg over his shoulder as he settles between them. His breath is hot and heavy as he grows closer to your core. It’s embarrassing, and you want to press your legs together, but Yuuji doesn’t allow this. He’s firm in his place, holding your legs wide open, baring you to him.

He starts gentle. A kiss to the apex of your thighs, a gentle finger running along your sensitive, weeping slit. A shiver runs down your spine as he parts you open, eyes raptly on you.

“Don’t stare,” you whine. “It’s embarrassing.”

He murmurs a soft apology, taking one more second for himself before he dives right in: tongue lapping at you voraciously, pulling the sweetest of moans from your lips as he eats you out like a man starved. You try to press your thighs together once more but he holds you open, unyielding in his grip as his tongue dips in your slit, then draws upwards, making circles around your clit.

He’s messy in the way he eats you out. He doesn’t hold back, either: he laps at you like he’s a dehydrated man at last finding an oasis, drinking in your juices like it’s the finest of nectars. Slick covers his chin as he raises his head to look at you, half-lidded eyes meeting yours as he eases a finger into you. It slips in with ease, aided by how wet you’ve gotten on just his tongue alone.

Your back arches as he pumps his finger into you. You need more. “Yuuji,” you plead in a broken moan. “Need more—want your cock inside me, I can take it.”

His eyes widen slightly, but he’s nodding his head like an eager puppy, withdrawing his hand and rising to pull his clothes off. You whine, a soft plea of, “hurry, need you now,” that has Yuuji clumsily fumbling at the button of his jeans. He doesn’t even pull them off fully, letting the fabric pool at his ankles as he takes his dick in his hands and presses his hips to yours. His shaft presses against your messy slit, pulsing and needy.

“Fuck,” he curses, a soft whine sounding deep in his throat as his hips cant against yours. Your eyes are wide and unblinking as you take in the sight: Yuuji, desperate, grasping your legs and nearly folding you in half as his cock rests on your pelvis, your navel. He’s big. The thought of someone his size fucking into you should be scary, but you know Yuuji will take care of you—or perhaps that’s the liquor in your brain telling you that you can take it, that you need him inside of you now.

“You’re gonna feel me so deep, baby,” he mumbles, entranced by the sight. You buck your hips slightly, barely moving thanks to the hold he has on you.

“I can take it,” you repeat, your breathing growing heavier with every passing second. “I need it. Give it to me, Yuuji.” Your hands grasp at the sheets beneath you as finally, finally, he slides the tip against your slit, catching a few times against your clit (”Yuuji, stop teasing me!”) before he finally eases into you, his fat tip breaching your weeping cunt. The stretch burns, but the sensation is not an unwelcome one.

Your mouth drops open in a silent moan as Yuuji hunches over you, pressing further into your pussy. It feels like it should almost be fucking impossible how deep he reaches inside you like this.

“Baby, baby,” Yuuji whines against the shell of your ear, breath hot and wet. You can feel his chest heave against yours as he struggles to regain his bearings. “You’re so tight—don’t think I can pull out, you feel s’good…”

As he bottoms out, you think you might die like this. His cock fills you so perfectly, pulsing and twitching inside you as he forces himself to still—to give you time to adjust.

You don’t want time, though. You really will fucking die if he doesn’t move soon.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down to you to messily slot your lips against his, moaning into his mouth as his hips buck into yours. “Yuuji,” you breathe out against his lips. “Fuck me.”

“Okay, baby.” He nods, pressing his sweat slick forehead to yours as he moves his hips. He starts slower, long strokes that force you to feel all of him, deep and all-consuming and overwhelming your senses with him, strong arms caging you against the bed as he fucks into you again and again and again.

Yuuji’s pace picks up, your moans a sweet melody in his ears that spurs him on, making him lose all ration in his brain—it’s evident, in the way he growls almost animalistically, hips starting to rut into yours with reckless abandon. His balls slap against your ass, accompanied by a lewd squelch with every thrust into your messy cunt.

“Yu, fuck—please,” you sob with every thrust. He angles his hips a little differently until he finds the perfect spot—that sensitive little part of your cunt that has stars exploding behind your eyelids. Once he finds it, he narrows his focus on it, bullying his cock relentlessly into your pussy until you’re sobbing.

Your nails scratch along his back, leaving angry red marks in their wake. Yuuji groans and buries his face into the crook of your neck, mouthing and biting at the sensitive flesh as his hips pound into you.

“G’nna cum, don’t stop, ohhhh god,” you gasp out as Yuuji nips at the flesh of your collar. You claw at his back, toes curling in the air when you feel him slide a hand between your slick bodies to thumb at your clit, adding to the orchestra of sensations that are driving you mad with pleasure.

“Cum for me, angel,” Yuuji urges you breathlessly, fucking you with a renewed fervor. His hips are starting to stutter, and his large hands are grasping your thighs in a bruising grip as you convulse around him. His voice alone is enough to tip you over the edge; you’re falling into him, into oblivion, orgasming so hard your vision goes dark for a moment.

A long moan of his name falling from your lips is enough to push him over with you, white hot ropes of his cum coating your pulsing heat. You feel utterly breathless, boneless, as Yuuji slowly eases your legs down. The ache is pleasant.

“Baby,” Yuuji pants softly, breaking the pleasant silence as he brushes his fingers across your forehead. “I’m still… can I..?”

Oh, god. He is still rock hard inside of you. Your pussy is still fluttering with the world-shattering orgasm he had just given you—you’re not sure if you can take more.

But Yuuji looks at you with pleading eyes, your name falling from his lips with such desperation that you’re nodding your head, opening your arms for him. He smiles down at you, and as he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips, his hips slowly start to rut into yours again.

You’re not sure how many rounds you go with Yuuji—the rest of the night is a blur of moans and groans, of him making you cum again and again and again, as many times as you can possibly take.

You wake up with a pounding headache and a foreign weight slung over your chest.

“Oh, fuck,” you hiss quietly to yourself, voice raspy with remnants of sleep. “How much did I drink last night?”

Blinking open bleary eyes, you squint against the light that filters into the room—your room, which doesn’t make any sense because you never bring home your one night stands. Your hand brushes against the strong arm slung over you, and that’s when you hear an all-too-familiar snore.

“Oh, fuck.” You repeat, dread creeping into your groggy voice.

That was Itadori Yuuji in bed with you. That was your fucking roommate, naked in bed with you. You’re wearing his overly large t-shirt, and there’s an ache between your thighs that explains exactly what had transpired when you returned home with him last night.

You don’t remember too much, typical of nights where you have a little too much to drink. What you can grasp—mere wisps in the back of your mind—are fleeting moments of mind-numbing pleasure, or of sweet-nothings being whispered into your ear. Whatever scraps of memory you do have are enough to make you want to scream into a pillow out of sheer embarrassment.

You feel the arm around you tighten as Yuuji pulls you into his chest and you squeak.

Oh, that’s just fucking mortifying.

“Mmh… huh?” Yuuji mumbles sleepily. He slowly blinks, eyes focusing on you after a few moments. “What are you doing in my bed..?”

Your eyes widen as you scramble to sit up, grasping at the sheets to keep your lower body covered as you do so. Your mouth opens and closes as you look for the right words to say.

Yuuji’s eyebrows furrow. He seems to have come to a realization without you having to say it out loud.

“Oh. This isn’t...” Yuuji frowns. He’s calm in a way that confuses you—why isn’t he freaking out like you are? “We got really hammered last night, huh?”

You slowly nod your head in agreement. “Do you… remember anything?”

Your attention is drawn to his lips when he bites his lower one in thought, then drifts downards when you catch the blooming hickeys on his neck in your peripherals. Oh, god, did you leave those? What were you thinking?

All too slowly, Yuuji’s eyes meet yours. The way he looks at you is almost unbearable. There’s a sinking sensation in your chest: you think he might apologize, or tell you that last night was a mistake. That he won’t let it happen again. Quickly, you blurt, “You don’t have to say it. I get it.”

Yuuji tilts his head, his train of thought forgotten. “Say what?”

“I get that you regret it.” The words start tumbling out of your mouth and there’s little you can do to stop it. “It’s okay, you won’t hurt my feelings. I know you’re too kind to just say it outright like that—“

Yuuji opens his mouth to say something, but you barrel onwards, looking down at your lap. You’re too mortified to look at him directly.

“—And I understand if you maybe want to avoid me for awhile? I know things will be awkward, so seriously, take whatever time you need—“

Your onslaught of words is cut off by Yuuji cupping your face in his hands as he leans forward to kiss you. It’s gentle, and while it only lasts for a heartbeat, to you it feels like it lasts a lifetime.

Stunned, you lift a hand to your lips, ghosting your fingers over them as you stare at him. You’re absolutely dumbfounded.

“Sorry,” Yuuji starts softly, his thumb brushing your cheek gently. “I didn’t know how else to stop you.”

You blink at him, making a noise in the back of your throat. It’s an exhale of breath, of one you didn’t even know you were holding until just now.

“I don’t regret it. And I really hope you don’t, too.” Yuuji sighs gently. When his eyes meet yours, he looks unsure, but he continues, “I meant everything I said last night. You’re beautiful, and you’re all I’ve ever wanted. Have been, for awhile now.”

“Oh,” is all you can manage. You think your heart might explode in your chest. It beats an uneven rhythm, pulsing against your ribcage as if it’s bound to break out any moment now.

“I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship, yanno? But now that, uh...” He clears his throat. “Last night happened… I might as well come out with it.”

You nod your head as his words sink in. Yuuji visibly gets more distressed with every second that passes in tense silence, so you say, “Okay. I see.”

He swallows—you know what he wants to ask: ‘Do you like me like that, too?’ but he doesn’t voice it out loud. It hangs in the air, heavy and oppressive. You carefully deliberate your next words.

“Will you take me on a date, Yuuji?” you ask bluntly.

“What?”

“I said—”

“No, no, I heard what you said.” His eyes widen slightly, stark relief visible in his irises. “Are you sure? I mean—I’d love to. Yes. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, angel. You name it.”

You smile fondly at Yuuji—you think if he had a tail, it would be wagging ferociously right about now. “First, you can get me a glass of water and some ibuprofen. Then we’ll talk about date plans, ‘kay?”

Yuuji nods his head fervently. He rises out of bed—and quickly realizes that he’s still naked. “Oh—shit, don’t look,” he stammers, lunging for his boxers that were conveniently laid out on the floor as he blushes. Once he’s got those pulled on, he turns towards you. You’ve politely averted your eyes.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” he murmurs, grabbing your attention by gently grasping your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Anything else I should grab ya?”

You feel your face warm up at the affection as you shake your head. With a smile, Yuuji shuffles out of your room to go fetch your requested items.

As you sit in the quiet of your bedroom, listening to Yuuji rustle through the bathroom, you think that maybe fucking your roommate wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

[mattnott]

𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄

mattheo riddle x fem reader

SUMMARY. in which you and mattheo were constantly at each other's throats, and this time was no different. WORDS. +6.1K, english is not my first language.

WARNINGS. ‘whipped’ mattheo (he’s obsessed), porn w// plot, reader and mattheo are both 18, making out, smoking , alcohol (mentions), hair pulling, oral sex!f receiving, marking, face sitting, nipple sucking, biting, dirty talk, blood kink.

The loud music spread through the dungeon corridors, pulsing like a frantic heartbeat and bouncing off the stone walls of the grand common room of the serpent house. It caught the attention of passersby, drawing curious glances, as if the noise were an invitation to peek in and see what was happening—or to get involved in whatever was going on behind the closed door.

Inside the crowded room, dark green lights pulsed to the beat of the music, almost as if they were dancing along. They lit up the faces of students who looked like they’d already had a bit too much to drink, escaping from their dorms in search of some much-needed fun after a long and draining semester.

In the shadows at the back of the loud room, Mattheo stayed leaned against the cold wall, with a cigarette dangling from his fingers with an enviable ease. His expression appeared relaxed, yet the messy curls still damp from the shower after a brutal Quidditch practice told a different story about his calm demeanor.

Though he would never admit just how tough the practice had been.

Beside him, Enzo and Theodore were bickering as usual, this time over the recent Potions exam that had been harder than they expected, making their voices louder. Yet their discussion faded into the background of Mattheo’s mind, barely registering in his ears, and he was certain they didn’t even notice his indifferent demeanor towards the childish conversation. His gaze drifted across the room, almost desperate to find something—or someone—to shatter the monotony that had settled over his life in the past few days.

From his spot, he could see drunk students nearly collapsing to the floor—acting like animals, he could swear—others laughing loudly, moving their bodies to the beat of the music, too entertained to notice anything else around them, and couples craving each other’s touch as if they didn’t care about their surroundings. Yet his gaze remained devoid of emotion; nothing stood out—nothing that could break the heavy boredom clinging to him like a second skin.

Taking another look around the room, Mattheo couldn’t help but scoff at his ridiculous state. He felt almost pathetic, surrounded by the chaos he usually appreciated, yet weary of being caught in the middle of it. Everything felt so common and dull that he figured the only adrenaline he might get would come from being lucky enough to vomit the alcohol swirling in his system. He chuckled dryly at the thought, taking a slow drag from his cigarette and letting the smoke curl lazily around his lips before releasing it into the air, watching it dissipate in the dim light around him.

Somehow, that was far more interesting than the party itself.

He leaned back against the wall, a small, irritated sigh escaping his lips as the weight of boredom settled heavily on his shoulders like a coat. His eyes landed on Berkshire and Nott, still bickering with each other—this time about Quidditch—their voices growing sharper by the second. Once again, his attention drifted away, their words fading into a dull roar in the background as he tuned out completely.

His eyes scanned the room once more, this time more attentively. Just as he was about to release one of the last tendrils of smoke from his cigarette, his gaze locked onto the door swinging open again, revealing a sight he hadn't expected at all—you. Stepping out from the shadows of the entrance, you looked around with a blend of curiosity and caution. In that instant, he could swear that everything around him seemed to slow—the music faded, the crowd blurred, as if the entire room were paying reverence to your presence.

Mattheo shook his head quickly, cringing at what his mind—and maybe even his heart—wanted to say. Curiosity sparked in his gaze as he looked up, the cigarette forgotten between his fingers, completely caught up in your presence. You definitely weren’t the type for gatherings like this; “party material” was the last thing he’d call you—quite the opposite. Yet there you were, looking as out of place as you were striking, like a prey wandering into 'enemy' territory. A playful smirk appeared on his face as the boredom began to lift from his shoulders.

There it was—the distraction he needed to keep him on his feet.

His smirk deepened as he watched you weave through the crowded party, letting his gaze drop to your thighs for a moment longer than he should. If anyone had been watching, they might have thought Mattheo’s gaze darkened with something far from innocent, and in fact it did. Glancing back at his friends, he checked for any sign they’d noticed his interest in you—but luckily, they were still too absorbed in their heated discussion, now with Blaise joining in. A glimmer of relief crept over him.

As you moved carefully through the crowd, he pushed himself off the wall, almost instinctively flicking the last embers from his cigarette before tossing it aside without a second thought and striding toward the crowd. His gaze never wavered, following you with an unbothered intensity, watching you like a hawk. He stopped in the middle of the room, surrounded by the drunken bodies, waiting for the moment you’d feel his eyes on you—only then would he make a move. 

Maybe this was just another game for him, but if he was being honest, he didn’t care. He thrived on getting under your skin, relishing the power to rip apart the perfect image you projected to everyone. You were too polite, too nice, too good—yet with him, you turned cruel, acidic, and downright mean. He loved it. The fact that he could be the one to destroy you and expose the flaws beneath that polished exterior was intoxicating.

Loving your good side was easy, but he was the only one who craved your darker nature, despising your sweetness with a intensity that almost consumed his soul. 

It was no surprise to anyone that you and Mattheo were always at each other’s throats. Since your first year at school, every interaction was filled with cold words and insults, your clashing personalities entertaining everyone around you.

But only Mattheo knew the truth: you were almost a reflection of his own twisted nature, and every stolen kiss only deepened his conviction. Maybe that was why his relentless, penetrating gaze tracked your every move, waiting for the faintest flicker of recognition, longing for the moment you'd finally break and turn to him.

As you continued moving through the room, a familiar shiver ran up your spine, and you gripped your wrists tightly, muttering under your breath—you knew exactly whose gaze was piercing enough to unsettle you like this. Riddle. Turning around, your eyes locked onto his, and when he noticed the angry look on your face, his cruel smirk widened, as if your discomfort amused him. He gave you a mocking wave; his gaze remained fixed on you, heavy and almost suffocating, daring you to get closer to him to show just how much he could get under your skin.

For a moment, you felt trapped by his intensity, the chaos around you fading into the background as his gaze bore into you like teeth. But when you noticed the way he lifted his eyebrows in mockery, you quickly regained your composure, ignoring the heat rising to your cheeks.

Looking away, you steeled yourself, refusing to fall for his game like you always did.

But unlucky—or lucky—for you, Mattheo noticed your reaction, and your defiance only seemed to excite him more. He moved toward you slowly, each step amplifying your discomfort, and when he finally loomed close enough, the air thickened between you, heavy with a fervor capable enough to put you down. It was an overwhelming feeling that made your heart race like crazy, and you could see he was enjoying the way you would react to him.

“Lost, are we?” he asked not really waiting for a response, his gaze fixed on you with a knowing predatory glare that sent a shiver down your spine. His low voice dripped with mockery, and despite your desperate attempt to remain composed, every part of you wanted to break before him. Your heart raced wildly, and you wondered if you were on the edge of a heart attack.

You narrowed your eyebrows, your eyes filled with a hint of disgust as you finally faced Mattheo completely. His smirk only grew wider, but you raised your chin with every ounce of defiance you could muster in that moment. “Lost? Hardly,” you replied sharply, your gaze assessing him with disgust.

As you continued to stare at him, a memory of his clumsy fumbling during Quidditch practice flashed in your mind, causing a disdainful chuckle to escape your lips. You could see the way that mockery threw him, noticing that he was likely the cause behind that nearly insufferable mockery.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” He spat through clenched teeth, his anger barely contained, which only made your grin widen and his scowl deepen. He should have been the one to rile you up, not the other way around.

“Nothing much,” you hum, the false sweetness dripping from your words. He glared at you, clearly itching to hurl an insult, but he held back, aware that you were just getting started. “Just about how you humiliated yourself tripping over your massive ego during today’s practice,” you said, savoring the way his expression soured. “Honestly, it was the highlight of my day.” You teased.

Mattheo’s expression darkened as he let out a dry chuckle, forcing himself to meet your gaze. How he wished you weren’t so beautiful; he hated the way your presence twisted in his gut, making him crave what he knew he shouldn’t. Yet there you were, effortlessly making him feel less of the person he was.

Your beauty almost consuming his whole.

“Maybe if you spent less time criticizing me and more time focusing on yourself...” he began, his voice dripping with bitterness yet with mocking amusement, making you frown. “You wouldn’t be so fucking bitter.” He shot back, taking an unconscious step closer, invading more your space. The fever radiating from his body was almost intoxicating, and you fought the urge to step back.

Swallowing hard, you raised your chin even more, your eyes locking onto his almost hypnotic brown orbs. You couldn’t deny the idiot was handsome, and it was obvious that he was aware of his own beauty, appreciating the effect it had on you as he used it to overpower you, pushing the boundaries of your composure. 

“Bitter?” You forced a laugh, attempting to sound unaffected by his words, even though the truth was that Mattheo’s proximity was rattling you to your core. “I just enjoy your suffering. Watching you nearly fall from your broom was... truly entertaining.” You grinned, convinced you’d won the argument, but when his smirk returned, you realized you were the one being toyed with.

“Oh, really?” he began, a smug grin spreading across his face as he caught sight of your flustered expression. “So, not only were you watching my practice, but you were watching me, too.” He drawled, clearly savoring every moment as he enjoyed your discomfort. “Couldn’t resist, could you?” he taunted, blinking slowly in mockery, fully aware of the pull he had over you.

The boredom was definitely gone at this point.

Unlike Mattheo, you blinked rapidly, his words almost suffocating your brain, heat flooding your cheeks as you realized how easily you had exposed yourself. It was infuriating how much he observed the information you unwittingly gave him, and the more he had, the more he used it to make you nervous.

“As if I’d waste my time watching your stupid ass flounder around on a broom like a fucking idiot.” You scoffed, refusing to let your guard down, even if the proof of the embarrassment burned on your cheeks. “You’re not that interesting, Riddle.” You shot back with venom, but his smirk only widened, augmenting your irritation.

You were getting mad, and he loved it. Watching you unravel gave him satisfaction, you were finally losing your composure, almost revealing the side he was eager to see again.

“I’m not that interesting?” Mattheo drawled mockingly, his lips twisting into a fake pout that almost made you cringe. “Yet here you are, practically begging for my attention. Quite the contradiction, isn’t it?” He hummed, amused.

He was infuriating.

You looked at him, almost incredulous, torn between his audacity and his stupidity. “Are you fucking kidding me?” you hissed, but he remained unfazed, clearly enjoying the negative attention you were throwing at him. “You’re the one who came to ‘talk’ to me, so get a grip,” you shot back, and for a brief moment, his smile almost faltered.

Mattheo’s gaze dragged over you slowly, every detail taken in with a lazy, shameless boldness that refused to let you feel any sense of power. The smirk was back, curling at the edge of his mouth as though your insult had already slipped his mind. With another step forward, he closed the space between you, close enough for you to catch the sharp edge of his cologne mixed with the lingering scent of the cigarette he was smoking before.

“You talk big for someone who’s practically shaking in my presence,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerously soft, each word daring you to react. “Maybe you should get a grip, princess.” You nearly cringed at the nickname, but his words hit, and though you’d never admit it, a part of you knew he wasn’t entirely wrong.

Mattheo's presence was suffocating, so suffocating; each step he took left you feeling like a part of your logic had slipped away. You hated it, you hated how each encounter left you feeling a part of yourself was missing. Yet, no matter how many times this twisted game played out, you found yourself drawn back, absorbed by the chaos he ignited in you.

But you weren’t the only one unraveling—Mattheo was drowning too, trapped in the same game, and the only thing that changed was the reason behind it.

If your chin wasn't raised enough, you would have lifted it one more time, but unfortunately, you couldn't; instead, you had to cling to the last shred of self-respect you had. “Shaking?” you scoffed, your voice dripping with sarcasm, though he could easily detect the tremor beneath it. “Trust me, if my body's shaking, it's only because I'm holding myself back from shoving you off this wall and breaking your damn nose.” You hissed, taking another step closer to him, forcing him to suppress a satisfied sigh at your defiance.

Yet Mattheo didn’t hold back his smirk; it only widened further, with a subtle glint of satisfaction appearing in his eyes. If you had the courage to look closer, you might have noticed it. But his proximity left you oblivious to anything else—your attention was fixed only on how close his body was to yours, how his face lingered near yours without closing the distance.

It was torture.

“Is that right?” he asked, taunt dripping from his tone as his eyebrow arched, his gaze bearing down on you. Maybe he wanted you to feel less of yourself, or maybe he was just savoring the way your body reacted to him—either way, his eyes held a single intent: make you feel small. “For someone so eager to break my nose, you seem to love getting close enough to do it,” he taunted.

Your stomach twisted; he wasn’t just hungry for your skin—he was tearing at it, and you couldn’t help but feel infuriated. You hated being played with, especially by him. But Mattheo? He was enjoying this moment, enjoying how you kept his boredom at bay.

The way you were practically forced to look at him, how his body towered over you, and how you constantly challenged him—it thrilled him. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the hotness radiating off his body. It was maddening how he turned every interaction into a twisted game, and worse, how you always fell for it.

He was the only one who could ruin your good image, and you hated it. You hated that you found it exciting, and you despised how he made you crave these sick competitions for power more and more. You wanted to hurt him so badly that it almost burned your insides.

“I just want a clear shot,” you hissed, clutching what little dignity you had left. But Mattheo didn’t seem affected at all; in fact, he was just waiting for the chance to turn the tables once more. “So don’t flatter yourself, idiot.” He lowered his head slightly, challenging you, it seemed.

Mattheo chuckled dryly, and you felt his breath even closer to your face than before. “Funny, I don’t see you making a move,” he remarked, his gaze fixed on your clenched fists, satisfaction evident as he noticed how tightly you were gripping them. “Maybe you’re not as angry as you want me to think,” he whispered provocatively, his tongue sliding over his own lips as he did so.

You wanted to punch him; you wanted to see him lose so badly, and he could see it. He could see your facade falling, and he was eager to expose your darker side—the side that could put him in his place with just a word. He just needed one more push, one more slip, and he knew he could get it out of you.

He was almost there. Almost.

You closed your eyes for a moment, desperately trying to ignore the rapid beat of your heart, feeling as if you were teetering on the edge of a heart attack. Still, you managed to respond. “Or maybe I’m just debating which would be more satisfying—breaking your nose or shattering your ego.” You practically spat the words, logic having abandoned your body two minutes ago. You felt heavy, so heavy.

You just didn’t know that Mattheo’s heart was beating in sync with yours. Apreciating your unlogical comportment and the way his mind was getting a bit of logic because of you, because he knew, he knew that he wanted you, he knew that he needed to break you. He knew he could put him on lines, but him? He took pleasure in keeping you off balance, and he knew that you both craved the same thing; you just lacked the guts to admit it.

Unlucky for you, he was more than ready to push you to do it.

Mattheo lowered his head until his lips were barely a whisper away from yours, his breath warm and steady against your skin. For a fleeting second, you were almost thankful for the boldness that kept your chin raised. “Go on, try,” he murmured, his voice a dare that left your legs feeling dangerously uneven. “You’re welcome to try either.”

A flash of hesitation crossed your mind, but his gaze trapped you, daring you to make a move. The air between you felt stifling, the noise around you melting away under the weight of his words, and the tension sparkling between both of you. Your pulse pounded as his face lingered close to yours, his mouth barely an inch away, eyes flickering to your lips—close enough to make every nerve burn.

You could feel control slipping right through your fingers.

“What’s the matter?” He whispered, his voice low, rough with mockery, that insufferable smirk deepening in a way that practically begged you to knock it off his face. “Losing your nerve?”

And then you lost it—you lost it completely.

You didn’t answer him with words. Instead, your hands shot up to his neck, and you crashed your lips against his, pouring all your anger and frustration into the kiss. It was fierce, almost desperate, and somehow, it felt painfully right. Mattheo responded instantly, not even a little surprised, just the dark satisfaction of someone who’d been waiting for this.

He chuckled against your mouth, triumphant; you were exactly where he’d wanted you all along.

You could feel the way Mattheo's grip tightened, pulling you flush against him, his chest pressing into yours as the kiss deepened into something raw and almost primal. His hand held you firmly in place, no room to pull away, letting your tongue clash with his in a battle for dominance neither of you wanted to lose. It was pure hunger, teeth and tongues colliding, each of you refusing to back down.

Your bodies pressed together, as if you and him were desperate to merge into one, the intensity between you both fueling an insatiable hunger. It wasn't enough—nothing could satisfy the craving consuming both of you. You needed more, and so did he. Without a second thought, you sank your teeth into his lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste flooded both of your mouths, sending a primal thrill through you both that made you gasp and moan with the flavor.

It was maddening.

Maybe that's why Mattheo craved kissing you and touching you—because it felt like suffocation, like drowning as your tongue slipped into his mouth, stealing the very air from his lungs. And he needed it more than he cared to admit. Mattheo loved how you made him lose and gain control at the same time, how you made him forget himself completely.

His life could be boring, even wild most of the times, but nothing made him feel more alive than when you were tearing him apart, lips and bodies pressed together, suffocating him with your poison in a way he could never resist—as if he were addicted to the pain of being ruined by you.

Mattheo couldn't take it anymore and kissed you again as the first one broke, his body pressing even harder against yours, your hips grinding against him, making him groan into your mouth.

The blood from the first bite only intensified his need for you, pushing him to the edge where he had to sink his teeth into your lower lip as well, taking another moan from you. He longed for the metallic tang lingering on your lips, desperate to mix with his as your tongues clashed again and again with an intensity that left both of you eager for more.

You wanted more; he needed to give him more.

You and Mattheo seemed oblivious to the fact that you were still at the party, too consumed by each other's lips and bodies to notice the pounding music or the crowded room around you, and compared to anyone else here, the two of you were on another level. After a few moments, Mattheo broke the kiss, lowering his mouth to your neck, biting and sucking at your skin with such hunger that you couldn't be sure who was enjoying it more.

“You smell so good, so damn good,” he whispered like a prayer against your skin, his tongue tracing over the mark he'd just left, almost like he was savoring it. His words jolted you, snapping you back to your senses as you glanced around, suddenly aware that you weren't alone. Reluctantly, you pushed his head back, biting back a groan as you felt the ache of stopping.

“Why did you push me?” Mattheo asked, his lips swollen and tempting like yours, and unlike you, he couldn't suppress the groan that escaped at the loss of contact. His hungry gaze locked onto yours. "Do you want to stop?" he asked, clearly waiting for you to say no.

“Not here.” You managed to say. “Let’s go to somewhere private.” You said quickly, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

Mattheo’s smirk widened with those words, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he seized your hand without warning, dragging you toward the dorms. You let out a soft, surprised whimper, but he didn’t pause, continuing walking and ignoring the stunned—and amused—looks from his friends. He barely glanced back, his grip firm and unyielding, as if nothing in the room mattered except getting you alone.

Neither of you noticed the dim hallways as you hurried along, too consumed by the need to be alone together. Neither of you registered when the music faded into the background or when his door creaked open and shut behind you. And neither of you realized when the clothes that once covered your bodies ended up scattered across the floor, tangled together just like the two of you.

You were both too lost in ecstasy.

Mattheo's hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch with excitement that was visible from miles away. His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass, leaving marks with each squeeze, and if you didn't know him, you might've thought it was unintentional. But the smirk pressed against your skin proved he knew exactly what he was doing—a knowledge that made you moan, and made him grip your ass even harder.

“I could bite you for hours, taste you for hours,” he purred against your skin, his nose brushing against you with a softness that contrasted sharply with his mouth, which was focused on marking your neck fiercely.

His teeth sank into your flesh, drawing blood as he savored the metallic taste, and each lick sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, blurring the lines between pain and ecstasy. “Your skin is so damn soft,” he murmured, the obsession in his voice sending shivers down your spine.

Mattheo squeezed your ass a little harder before pulling his hand away, leaving you moaning at the loss of contact and shooting him an angry glare. “What's wrong, love?” he smirked, his voice dripping with mockery as his lips stained a deep red from the blood you two had shared during the kiss and the blood he was still taking from you, curled into a cruel grin against your skin.

“You know what's wrong, don't stop touching me!” you snapped, frustration lacing your voice. The moment the words left your mouth, you let out a breathy moan as he clamped his teeth onto your skin again, this time a little harder in response to your defiant tone.

He chuckled slightly. “Don't be so fucking impatient, love.” He pressed soft kisses against your skin, purring against it. “I will touch you again...” he teased, and before you could respond, his hand possessively cupped your breast, a low moan escaping him as your hardened nipple pressed into his palm. You let out a satisfied sigh, your lips parting slightly, and Mattheo couldn't resist; almost instinctively, he pulled you in for another heated kiss.

As soon as his mouth met yours, you couldn't help but reciprocate his fervor with equal intensity. Mattheo squeezed your chest a little harder, forcing you to part your lips, and he wasted no time plunging his tongue into your mouth, flooding you with the metallic taste of blood that was almost tattooed on his tongue.

The sloppy and open mouthed kisses were enough to send shivers down both your bodies, and you were sure you had never been more wet than you were in that moment.

“Look at you.” Mattheo murmured as he broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your chin while guiding you to one of the beds in the dorm, his hands never leaving your chest, and his mouth staying on your skin, moving lower and lower. “You're just all talk, aren't you?” he purred, sitting down on the bed and pulling you onto his lap, your legs straddling him, as his lips moved down, almost grazing your hardened left nipple.

You flushed almost violently, but before you could respond, his mouth was on your breast, tongue flicking and teasing your nipple as he sucked, drawing a shiver from you that only widened his grin. His gaze fixated on the marks and faint traces of blood on your neck, an look of satisfaction in his eyes as his tongue continued its relentless, obscene play on your skin, savoring every reaction he wrung from you.

The bastard knew exactly how to use his tongue, and you could already feel yourself losing control.

One of his hands was now tangled softly in your hair, while the other still cupped your chest with a possessiveness that only Mattheo could make feel strangely delicate. It was a balance that would seem odd to anyone else—but not to him. His version of delicacy always came paired with roughness, and as much as you hated to admit it, you loved every bit of it.

"Are you ready to admit that you're just talking?" He murmured, his mouth still toying with your breast as you looked down at him, locked in a mix of pleasure and anger.

“Go to hell, Riddle,” you spat, anger lacing your words, only to moan as his teeth sank into your nipple.

“Oh, love, I'm already in hell.” He suckled your hardened nipple, lingering on the sensitive flesh before pulling away, his hand that had been tangled in your hair sliding down to your neck, giving it a teasing squeeze as he drew you closer, his lips brushing tantalizingly against your ear. “And I'm loving every second of it,” he whispered, sending a surge of heat through your body and making his grin widen even more.

Mattheo pushed you for another kiss, this time a softer one, leaning back against the bed and dragging you with him until the back of his head hit the headboard. In one swift motion, he bit your lip, breaking the kiss and abruptly flipping you onto your back, pressing you against his neck with a strength that made your eyes widen in surprise. You looked up at him, breathless, taking in the mix of dominance and desire radiating from him. You looked at him breathless.

“What—what are you doing?” you asked, your cheeks burning with the sudden action. You could feel his skin against your bare wetness.

Mattheo only grinned, feeling your pussy so close to him, and looked at you almost defiantly, but you were sure that you saw primal hunger in his gaze as he squeezed your thighs.

“You didn't want to break my nose?” Mattheo purred provocatively, a wicked smile curling his lips as he looked at the marks he made on your body. “Do it then.” He gripped your thighs tighter, his voice low and enticing. “Prove that you're not all talk, and sit on my face.” He said it without a shred of shame, and your eyes widened as you looked down at him.

Every inch of you was screaming at you to do it.

“Come on, love, are you scared?” he provoked, his mouth salivating with anticipation as he looked at your pussy nestled against his neck. Something in you snapped, and before you could even think about it, you positioned yourself over his face, sinking down and moaning at the sensation, feeling his grin against your wet cunt as he gripped your thighs even tighter.

“Just like that,” Mattheo murmured into your pussy, his tongue dancing and swirling in his mouth like a prelude to what he was about to do against your folds, and he couldn't help but let out a satisfied chuckle as he watched your impatient eyes.

You were already gasping, staring into Mattheo’s eyes with the same hunger and anger you had before, and he couldn’t help but feel a twisted satisfaction at that. He loved that you cared enough to be furious with him and relished the way you claimed his face as your throne.

For a brief moment, he craved you to break his nose, just so his blood could mingle with your pussy, marking you as his prey. That thought made Mattheo whisper inaudible words against your pussy like a prayer before he pressed your thighs against his cheeks and delivered the first lick.

Slow, painfully slow, almost like torture.

But as much as he craved to torture you, he couldn't, it was simply too much for him. The way your pleading eyes begged for more, the intoxicating scent of your arousal, and the initial taste of your cunt had him crazy. Without a second thought, he buried his face deeper into you, eating you out like a starved man desperate for his last taste of ecstasy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cried out, pushing his hair, which made him groan and moan against your folds. His tongue licked every inch of your core with fervor, ignoring any precision that could exist, too hungry to care. And you didn't mind how messy it got, not when he was licking and sucking your essence as if he wanted to drown in your wetness.

That was good—so good that you could already feel the tears streaming down your face. Your moans turned into screams as his muscle pushed deeper inside you. You were on the brink of breaking.

Mattheo didn't cared about that, though.

Since there was no technique or precision in the way he devoured you, there was only animalistic hunger and fervent hatred as his tongue flicked against your sex and his nose rubbed against your clit, leaving you so drunk with pleasure that the next thing to make you squeal was the feeling of his fingers massaging your thighs while his mouth sucked the spot where his nose had just been.

He wanted to be suffocated by you, to die between your legs consumed by your body, and that only fueled his obsession, driving him to push you further against him. He diverted his gaze from your cunt to your face, his stomach twisting with the precious sound of your moans.

“You look so pretty from here,” he moaned against your pussy, his eyes devouring every inch of you. You looked at him as your body started to weaken, and when you noticed the intensity in his dark brown eyes, you had to close yours quickly to escape his obsessive gaze. That only made him grip your legs even tighter, the veins in his arms bulging as he continued to suck on your clit, lost in your flavor.

“So fucking pretty,” Mattheo purred softly, almost hypnotized by the way your body reacted to him. He continued with fierce determination, his movements growing even more frenzied as his tongue and nose worked together to prolong your pleasure.

You were completely at his mercy, each wave of pleasure crashing over you more intensely than the last. He showed no signs of tiring, fully intent on pushing you to your limits, eager to watch you break over and over against his mouth.

He was utterly addicted to your taste, desperate for you to come into his mouth, determined to savor every last drop.

“Mattheo,” you choked out. “I can't—please, I need to cum!” You moaned repeatedly, your voice and legs trembling in sync.

“You can cum, love,” he said softly, his voice a stark contrast to the brutal way he feasted on you. “I will take it, I promise.” At his words, your body shattered as the first orgasm of the night swept over you, leaving you breathless, weak, and completely undone. But he didn't relent; instead, he buried his face deeper into your wetness, greedily lapping up every drop of your essence, driving you to scream even louder as you pressed into his face like a fucking masochist.

“I need another drop,” he murmured against your pussycat. “Just one, just one.” A lie. He didn't stop after the second drop. He didn't stop after the third, and each time he seemed to grow hungrier, as if he wanted to explode with your taste. But when your fourth orgasm hit, you couldn't take it anymore; you fell apart, collapsing beside him and dragging him down with you.

He had cum.

He came with your taste, and you had never felt more fulfilled, completely proud by the fact that you were the one who drove him to the edge without even touching him.

You looked at him, his chin still glistening with your essence, his chest rising and falling erratically, mirroring your own breath. But when your eyes met his, there was no hint of regret or shame—only a potent mix of hunger and satisfaction, as if he were on the verge of saying something else or maybe pushing your limits again.

“Next time, break my nose.” He said, putting your body against his almost like an embrace.

Next time. You nodded, that sounded like a plan.

© 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚝₂₀₂₄ — 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎.

likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated. 🫶🏻

this is my first one-shot about slytherin boys, so please be kind and respectful!

thanks for being my fav beta readers: @diiwata & @earth4angels ! love you both <3. also, thank you @nottsangel ! you were the first person i read regarding slytherin boys. thanks for putting me on to it! (my gallery is grateful as well) <3

[dorkszn]

big dick!billy who loves having you sit on his lap because he knows you can feel him through his pants

big dick!billy who filmed you the first time he fucked you so he’ll always have the memory of the first time he stretched you out around him. a tape of your body quivering, fat tears rolling down your cheeks, his cock stuffed in you to the hilt, and your hands clutching at the sheets on his bed.

big dick!billy who keeps a photo of your stomach in his wallet. a bulge in your belly showing how deep he’s buried in you.

big dick!billy who loves seeing you cry and pout around his cock when you can’t take him all the way down your throat. he assures you that it’s okay and wraps your hand around his base and even that barely works

big dick!billy who can’t help but chuckle as he watches you try to sink yourself down onto his dick. his seat pushed back to accompany for you on top of him, slowly sucking him in inch by inch. your face contorting as you take him in and he can’t help but bite his bottom lip to hold back his grin. he thinks it’s cute how much you struggle to take him by yourself. and he’s more than happy to help you down when you ask, after teasing you, of course. he waste no time slamming you down on his cock.

[xxgrimml0vrxx]

a/n sorry I’ve been gone for so long, life is crazy but here’s more Mammon stuff that’s been heavy on my mind 𓄿

⚠️warnings⚠️ breeding, afab reader (no pronouns but the word ‘pussy’) Mammon being greedy.

Mammon has a breeding kink and I will not be argued with. he just does.

Especially in spring, (February to May is when crows typically breed and nest) his mind filled with thoughts of bending you over anywhere and stuffing you with his cum.

He’ll even freeze mid-conversation imagining you plump and round with a child. his child. In his pretty little human.

He’ll go fucking feral for it.

“That’s my good human.....ya look so good underneath me treasure~” Mammon moans as he pounds himself into you.

You don’t remember how many times you’ve cum by now, tears running down your face as you gasp and moan trying desperately to catch your breath.

Mammon just laughs softly as he presses soft kisses to your chapped lips and sweaty face.

The fucked out look on your face makes his cock throb, and he has to look away before he cums too quickly.

Mammon presses his body into yours, face in your neck. His fast thrusts speed up again, the room finning with the sound of sweaty sink slapping against skin.

“If only ya knew what you did to me. You know how crazy this little pussy makes me? Do ya know how bad I need ya sugar? ‘m tellin’ ya it feels like I’m addicted to you….” His voice is low and breathy right in your ear and you whine, nodding your head…..but then again your brain is too fuzzy to really make out what he’s saying.

Mammon laughs again and then bites down on the junction between your neck and your shoulder. It’s what sends you over the edge once more, and milks him dry, moaning each other’s name as you cum together.

Mammon is still shuddering for a full minute after his orgasm. And his cock is still hard inside you, “Ya didn’t think we were done did ya treasure?”

[hiraethwrote]

Nanami is more of a listener than a talker, and would happily listen to you ramble on and on about anything that would pop into your mind. And no matter how little it really concerns him, he’ll always pay attention to when you explain something so enthusiastically — even if it’s a silly internet trend or drama.

Nanami is definitely not the guy to have TikTok, but would on occasion lift his attention from his book when you’re both laying in bed to quietly watch along for a few minutes.

Nanami is not the type of guy to really form any defining opinion on said internet controversies — except the videos of grooms disrespecting their brides at the alter in their vows. When you tell him about the men who only spew vulgar statements to their future wives, you witness Nanami get incredibly angry, going on a long and serious tangent about how these boys are immature and have no business getting married at all.

Nanami is the type of guy who would spontaneously pull you out of the chair in the calm hours of the evening to slow dance with you around the living room. Sometimes he’d put on some calm and beautiful melodies to play in the background, but sometimes he would just slow waltz without the music, casual chatter filling the void instead.

Nanami is the type of guy who’d pull your feet in his lap to massage them after a long day, without you asking for it.

Nanami is the type of guy who looooves to cook for you, and he does it as often as he possibly can. And when he does, he loves to feed you small bites during the process for you to taste everything.

Nanami is, of course, a respectable man — meaning he doesn’t engage all that much in pda. But he’ll happily walk beside you with your fingers intertwined with his, or he’ll have a tender hand on the small of your back to guide you when has to let go.

Nanami however, has one physical need and that is kissing the back of your hand, which he will do wherever and whenever. Walking the grocery store; lift your hand to his lips. Meeting up for lunch; lift your hand to his lips. Waiting in line for a restaurant; lift your hand to his lips.

Nanami is the type of guy that would love being a girl’s dad. It would be the highlight of his day to come home from work, only to squeeze into one of her small chairs in her bedroom and would put on the most convincing act of sipping tea from the empty cup, a pretty tiara at the very top of his head.

Nanami is the type of guy who would love planning the wedding along with you. He hates the idea of loading all the responsibility on the bride, because he wants to celebrate your love just as much as you do.

Nanami is the type of guy, who once he falls in love, he’s settled.

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[tetzoro]

˖˙ ꔫ — TO HOLD, TO DEVOUR

꒰ synopsis ꒱ : you and kuroo have been dating for awhile but now it’s time to take it to the next step. but first, kuroo has a secret to share.

꒰ contents ꒱ : MDNI. kuroo tetsuro x reader ; virginity loss (kuroo), reader guides him through it, kuroo is a quicker learner, unprotected sex, creampie, use of pet names (sweetheart)— WC : 2.2k

Kuroo Tetsuro was a virgin.

It was surprising, to say the least. The sultry sentences that easily flowed from his sensual tongue that always held an air of confidence had fooled you into believing he was a man who had a lot of experience. 

But after awhile, the more intimate things became, the more the words started thinning out and that silver tongue of his lost its sparkle.

Now fully seated in his lap, half clothed and full of want — he falters.

“What is it?” You pull back, tilting your head a little. The blush that once dusted along his cheekbones has spread throughout his body, his chest a fiery pink that you couldn’t help but run your fingers along, trying to soothe the burn with your electrifying touch.

Kuroo’s breath hitches at the contact, his torso rising and falling unsteadily with a distinctive sheen of desire over it. His swollen lips were painted red with passion, kiss bitten and practically begging to be consumed once again. 

The slightly shaky hands he had gripped along your hips dug deeper into the flesh there, nails sinking in to claim every inch of you, leaving crescent moons in it’s wake. 

Unintentionally, he pulls you onto him more, feeling the effects of his arousal throb against your thigh, the heavy press of his cock nestling between your covered core. The sensation makes him shiver, involuntarily pushing his hips up a little more to chase the heat, stuttering at the friction.

“I’ve never done this before.” No teasing lilts, no killer smirk. For the first time you were faced with an entirely vulnerable Kuroo — a man who you did not have the pleasure of knowing but the thrill of discovering him shot down your spine as a new warmth blossoms in your lower abdomen.

“Do you want to?” You try to keep your eagerness down but the thought of being Kuroo’s first was all too exciting. Getting to touch him where no one else has, staking your claim along his body and branding it as his first. The one he will never forget, the one he already hopes will be his last.

“Yes.” He breathes out. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in his willingness but you swore you could see some self doubt work his way through his head and shine out of his pretty amber eyes — a brief deer in the headlights before morphing back into the darkened gaze of a panther ready to pounce.

“Want me to show you?” The hands that were resting on his exposed chest slowly slid down, barely slipping under the waistband of his pants. Kuroo lets out a soft gasp, eyes flickering down as you tease him, pants tightening that much more. 

“Yes.” A sudden burst of strength shot through him, a spike of confidence as his desire overpowered his nerves. The moment your fingers wrap themselves around his length, he bucks into your fist — a faint, yet needy sound slipping past his lips. “Yes, please.”

You lean in briefly, brushing your lips against his as you steal the breath from his lungs, spinning around all of the thoughts in his head. All too soon, you pull back, running your thumb along his tip.

“First, we have to help each other out a little bit.” Your voice was level, soft. something he could hone in on and sink his teeth into, listening to every word you had to say. Wide lust blown pools of amber flitting from your eyes to your heaving chest, to where your fist closed around his pulsing cock. “Take off my clothes, Tetsu.”

His cock jumped at the way you breathed his name out. The hands that were securely pressed into your hips fold in, fingers dragging along your skin and hooking under the loose shorts you had on. Deftly, he slips them down as you ease up a little to let him fully tear them off. 

“Wow.” A gust of air left Kuroo’s lungs as he looked at your cunt, fingers already reaching toward it. The two of you have never gotten this far together and he was more than eager to learn how to please you. Slowly, he runs a digit along your folds. “You’re already so wet.”

Curiosity strikes him, plunging his finger into your depths, causing you to let out a soft gasp. The sound went straight to his cock, somehow making him even harder than he was before. If he didn’t sink into you soon, he’s sure he would burst just at the way you clench around his knuckle.

“Tell me what you feel.” You encourage him, your wrist flicking, squeezing along his tip and earning you another one of his delicious groans. But it wasn’t enough, even bucking into your fist didn’t bring him the relief he craved, the kind he’s never tasted before in his life.

“So warm and tight.” Kuroo slowly thrusts his finger in, memorizing how your walls constrict around his digit. The way you were clamping it sent his mind reeling, boiling down to one question that barely slipped past his lips. “You sure i’ll be able to fit? Seems like it’ll be a stretch.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Your hand speeds up a bit, Kuroo’s forehead falling against your chest as he tries to stop panting. The room was getting too hot, the remaining clothes he had on were far too constricting for him. “When we get there, you’ll see.”

A part of you wondered if you should finish him off quickly so maybe he’d last longer once he’s finally inside of you. But the thought was quickly dismissed by the guttural groan he let out. Having him come deep in your cunt for the first time would be worth it.

While his fingers work you open, your hand retreats from his cock. Kuroo stopped his motions, looking up at you with a slight pout on his face, need surfacing in his eyes and clouding it with a dark desire. 

“Why’d you stop?” His shaky, unsteady breath hit your skin, his other hand tightening around your hip, needing something to ground him. Desire bubbled up within him and he was moments away from having it boil over.

“Because I want you to fuck me now.” With that, you carefully slide his pants off so they pool around his ankles. Kuroo’s breath hitched as the cool air met his newly exposed skin. 

“Fuck.” Kuroo muttered, letting you do what you needed to do. Reluctantly, he slid his finger out of your cunt, bringing the digit up to his mouth to get a proper taste. He all but moans in delight, eyes on you as he awaits your next move.

Gently, you push him so his back sinks into the couch cushion, straddling him properly so his desperately reddened cock laid on his stomach.

“Almost there.” You glide over his length, spreading your arousal all over him as you simulate riding him. nestled between your folds, you can feel him pulse with need. “You’re doing so well.”

Kuroo let out what could be described as a whine, the praise caused his eyes to flutter shut for a moment, hips jerking up against your core.

Before you slide down, you swirl his tip around your entrance one last time. Your nails dig into his shoulders as your cunt starts to envelope his cock. It was as if he was carving his way through, the stretch sending jolts throughout your body. 

Never in your life have you felt something fill you up so well. Your thighs tremble as you try to steady yourself, baring the sting in favor of Kuroo’s pleasure.

And the saccharine sound that left your lover's lips had you freezing, eyes snapping to his. The look on his face was a new sight — so blissed out, so vulnerable.

“Who would’ve thought you’d be so sensitive, Tetsu.” You coo in his ear as he tries to hold himself back, keeping the rest of those sweet sounds stored behind his wall of pride. Something that was already cracking at the seams.

“Don’t-“ Kuroo gasped, his head falling back onto the couch, bangs barely covering the desperate look in his eyes. “Don’t — hah, don’t fuckin’ move. Please.”

The sight before you was too good to pass up, so you listen. Mercifully letting him get used to the feeling as he splits you open. The subtle throb of his cock only enhanced how full you felt, the pressure starting to get to you.

“My my,” You coo down at him. “I’ve never seen Kuroo Tetsuro so lost for words.”

His dick twitched in you at the tease so you squeeze back in retaliation.

“Haah — just give me a minute sweetheart, I’m sure I’ll come up with something.” The man sounded absolutely breathless, all of the air sucked out of his lungs from the way you enveloped him. “Just can’t help it, you just feel too good, so so good.”

“Wanna feel even better?” To further your point, you clench around him again, hands running along his chest as the pads of your finger glaze over his nipple.

“Please.” Kuroo hastily sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, pressing down and doing what he can to steady himself for what’s to come. 

As soon as the plea rolled off his tongue, you start to move your hips. The pace you set was languid, taking your time as you dragged out each motion. The way his cock slowly slid out of you, your walls clenching around and all but begging for him to stay in place — only for you to drop back down.

It wasn’t often you were in a position to tease Kuroo Tetsuro, and far be it for you to pass up an opportunity like this. The slower, the better as his mind slowly descends into a haze of desire.

“Need more.” He groans, his voice lower than you’ve ever heard it. His eyes glued to where the two of you connect, watching as your essence coats his cock every time you sit back up. You pay him no mind as he struggles on the couch, squirming for more friction. “Baby, please.”

Even the pet name doesn’t phase you, not when he already looked so fucked out. How was it possible for someone to look so good while looking so pitiful, so at your mercy. 

The inescapable need that fueled through his veins was working overtime and your pointed ignorance was the catalyst he needed to set off.

Gripping onto your plush backside, Kuroo starts to chase what he wants. Ever the determined man, he thrusts up into you stealing all the control you once held in the palm of your hand.

“Tetsu— !” You gasp, falling forward, clutching onto him as he sets an unsteady pace. 

“You feel too good.” Half lidded eyes meet yours, his jaw slack and losing all function beyond saying your name like a prayer. A litany of pleasurable sounds tumble out after it — a moan, a groan, even a whimper from the way your walls clutch onto him. “‘M not going to last long.”

“It’s okay,” You reach for his hand and bring it directly to your clit. The contact had you jolting forward, something that did not go unnoticed by Kuroo. His thumb experimentally circles around the nub, captivated at the way it slowly unravels you. “Oh-“

“Yeah? That feel good?” Kuroo asks. A switch flipped in his mind and the pleasure he was after turns into a new chase. One that involved having you come undone around him, earning your praise as much as he could. The only thing that was screaming in his head was that he needed to take care of you just like you were taking care of him. “Huh? Need you to use your words.”

“Yes!” You mewl, “Feels so good, Tetsu. I swear I can feel you here.” 

To prove your point, your hand splays along your stomach and he groans, driving up into your harder as electricity shoots down his spine.

“Yeah? I want you to feel me here.” His lips brush over the cusp of your breast, right where your beating heart was racing to be with him. The act mixed with his relentless thumb has you clamping around his cock, moaning out as you come undone. 

Kuroo’s hips stutter in surprise, pumping in once, twice more before spilling into you, his teeth grazing along your skin but not quite ready to sink themselves in yet.

The room was silent, spare for the joint battle of catching your breath. Kuroo’s eyes never leave yours, his hands trailing along your dewy sides, helping your body come down from its high. 

“So?” You ask breathlessly. Kuroo smirks, flipping you so you’re under him, sprawled out on the couch. His lithe fingers collect some of the mix of your essence, before pushing it back in. “Tets—“

“Sorry.” Although there wasn’t an ounce of guilt in his touch as his palm smooths along your thigh before he lowers himself onto you, pinning you down. You can feel his length harden against your skin, his tip already prodding your entrance once again. “But we’re gonna have to do that again.”

[lemonlover1110]

Sylus

Summary: Sylus struggles to put your baby girl to sleep.

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

You’ve never thought you’d find Sylus in this situation. You’ve pictured your husband doing a lot of things– But this? Never in a million years. 

You want to step into the room, but you can’t allow yourself to interrupt. The scene fills your stomach with butterflies, and reminds you why you fell for him all over again. The man really has a softer side that many don’t get to witness. You see it often; but no one will see it as much as her.

“Twinkle, twinkle– I guess you don’t like it.” Sylus’ singing is cut off by his baby’s cries. He’s rocking her back and forth, hoping to get his baby girl to fall asleep. He promised you that he’d take over so you could take the night off, but tonight his babygirl is as energetic as ever.

Though the singing stops, the crying doesn’t. He shushes her before telling her, “I promise I won’t sing again.”

The shrill cries stop, but his baby’s eyes are still wide open. She’s a difficult one to fall asleep, and he knows exactly who she got that from. Offering money won’t work with her yet, so he’s forced to play a waiting game. 

“I’m trying to spend time with your mom, love. C’mon, help me out.” She laughs at the tired look on her father’s face, and Sylus can’t help but smile. She’s laughing at his misery, but at least it’s a cute laugh.

“I’ll get payback one day.” Sylus says as he lifts her in the air before blowing a raspberry on her tummy. Another laugh comes from the little one. He kisses her chubby cheeks, pure joy overtaking him. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute, I’d be mad otherwise.” He tells her, earning a coo from the energetic girl. He chuckles.

“I can handle her.” You finally step into the room, cutting off the sweet moment between Sylus and your baby girl. You don’t want him to get frustrated with her, even when he looks overjoyed to just hold her.

“It’s fine.” Sylus assures you. He’s smiling down at her. “I can handle my little sweetheart.”