#all the music and characters and every bit of the story

[glassladyoftheopera]

In Stars and Time But It's a Musical (Part 1)

Okay hi I need to tell you all about this concept.

First off all I just need to say credit to @openphrase123 for the amazing 'ISAT but as a ballet' posts (here and also here and there definitely more but those are some of the big ones) which definitely inspired some choices here and in general inspired me to do this.

So basically I'm a big old musical theater person (and specifically musician / singer) so I've been fleshing out concepts for a what a musical re-telling of In Stars and Time might look like. I'm honestly not going to get into like... the logistics of how you could actually do it, because even with condensing a lot of things Musicals aren't typically long enough to tell this kind of story, so we're just... ignoring that when I don't have ideas to get around it.

We will start with all of the main characters, their voice types, and their characteristic musical styles!

Mirabelle Mira is our soprano, but mostly her singing and music is very much in the style of Disney Renaissance musicals. Think Belle, Ariel, Hercules, etc. I think it fits her up beat but still sometimes anxious personality. Near the end of each King Fight she gets a cool high notes as she finally has some true confidence in herself!

Bonnie Bonnie would be played by a younger performer with an unchanged voice. This wouldn't really be a dance heavy show, but when there is dancing they would take the lead b/c that's cute. In terms of their singing though it's mostly inspired by classic kid characters from Broadway, namely Annie, The Artful Dodger, and Matilda (especially for their more emotionally intense moments). Their music isn't as difficult, and in group numbers they typically sing the melody with at least one other person.

Odile Odile is the alto of the quintet. It helps her sound more mature than Mirabelle and fits her vibe of not taking on the flashy role. Her music leans a bit more classical, almost Gilbert and Sullivan-esque in her more playful moments. Overall though it tends to be a bit more melodically challenging, but not super fast or syncopated. There would be melodic and instrumental flourishes in her music unique to her that are basically 'Ka Buan' musical elements.

Isabeau Leading man baritone! His style also fairly standard musical theater, but leans a touch more modern in it's styling to accommodate his more emotionally open vibe. He'll have the pop-inspired rhythms and chord progressions, but in group numbers he's the rock solid bass part holding everything together.

Siffrin Siffrin... does not sing almost ever for the first chunk of the show outside of group numbers. He's a tenor, and helps fill out the harmonies, but the impression the audience should get at the start is that they aren't really a soloist. As the loops go on, they gain a bit more confidence, taking bits and pieces of all of the other character's musical / singing styles as they go on. They don't get a full length solo to themselves until Mal du Pays. But the character that most influences their style is...

Loop Loop is full on Broadway Jazz, baby! Syncopated rhythms, brassy sound, fast patter lyrics, the whole shebang. Don't look behind the curtain at what all that glitter might be hiding, stardust~

The King Super bass, in the tradition of opera villains usually being basses. At first the only super stand out thing about his singing is that his range is so distinct, but in later encounters he gets both more delicate moments and moments where the true power of his voice to intimidate comes through.

(Also yes all of the Forgotten Island peeps will have a few musical elements in common to set them apart don't you even worry we'll get to it :3)

Euphrasie The Head Housemaiden has a short little mini song she does for the first bit of her speech. It's simple and catchy. Every time it transitions into her final speech as the musical motifs are distorted.

Dormont The people of Dormont sing mostly in a grand opening number ala the opening numbers for Beauty and the Beast, Fiddler on the Roof, The Music Man, etc. Little bits and pieces of the song come back in various combos and Sif loops and jumps around asking people new things. They would also double as disembodied voices for certain musical numbers that could use extra voices for full out harmony, dramatic effect, etc.

More will be coming soon, so I hope you enjoyed my ramblings.

[acknowledge-reigns]

Rivals With Benefits | Jey x Black!fem OC (18+)

Description: Roman and Iris' wedding day arrives.

Chapter: 5/5

Face Claim: Ariana Debose.

Warnings: Flirting, Teasing, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, petnames, praise, possessiveness, p in v.

This is set in an AU in which the og bloodline reunited before wrestlemania 40 and Roman retained. This is the Jey x Jax sequel to Swipe Right. As always my stories are NOT about real people and does not reflect their character. While there is not smut in Chapter 1, there will be in others. This is very much an 18+ BDSM based romance with some comedy thrown in there. This particular story features Jey as a Daddy Dom (Not Mysterio, you fucking nerds 😂) google if necessary and if this isn't for you, please scroll. You have been warned.

Word count: 3,570

My masterlist can be found here.

🏷 Taglist - @xbriexx @acute-crashout-jeyuso @romansvrse @justazzi @vampygomez @mselenalovebug @lov3rla03 @jstarr86 @mindairy @biscochito23 @yana3sworld

As the day of the wedding approached, the anticipation and excitement grew to fever pitch. Everyone was in a whirlwind of preparations, from picking out final details to ensuring everything was perfect for the big day.

And for Jey, it was all happening at a time when his feelings for Jax were reaching a boiling point.

He found himself spending even more time with her, helping with last minute details and basking in her presence.

Every smile, every touch, every laugh was like a dagger to his heart.

But he couldn't help himself. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the pull of his growing affection. But she wouldn't want him back. Not truly.

Despite the growing tension between them, Jey did his best to maintain a facade of normalcy.

He tried to hide his true feelings, joking and laughing with the rest of the wedding party as they prepared for the big day.

But every time he caught Jax's eye, he felt a pang in his chest. He was aching to tell her how he truly felt, but the fear of rejection kept him silent.

As the hours ticked by, the time for the wedding drew near.

The venue was decorated beautifully, and the air was thick with excitement and joy.

Jey watched as Jax interacted with guests

He couldn't help but feel a bit of jealousy regarding all this wedding stuff. He was happy for his cousin getting to marry Iris, the love of his life but he also wondered.. when will it be his turn?

As the wedding ceremony began, Jey took his place at the altar, next to Jimmy near Roman.

He tried to focus on the moment, but his eyes kept drifting towards Jax.

She looked absolutely stunning in her bridesmaid dress, and he couldn't help but feel his heart flutter at the sight of her. She was beautiful. She was sweet, kind, soft when she felt safe and comfortable. He was her safe and comfortable and he wanted her more than anything.

The reception was in full swing, with music and laughter filling the air.

Jey sat at the table with his friends and family, trying to enjoy the festivities.

But he couldn't shake the feeling of longing that lingered in his heart.

Every so often, he would catch himself stealing glances at Jax, admiring her from afar.

As the night went on, the dance floor filled up, and the party reached its peak.

Jey sat at the table, watching everyone have fun, feeling a mix of emotions.

As the music played on, Jax spotted Jey sitting alone at the table.

She made her way over to him, a smile on her face. "Hey," she said, her voice soft and sweet. "You're not dancing?"

Jey's heart skipped a beat as he heard her voice. He looked up at her, trying to keep his composure.

"Nah, not really in the mood," he replied, forcing a casual tone.

"Well.. We pulled off a great wedding. Maybe we do make a really good team." Jax smiled, "I might have to take Jimmy's job as your tag team partner." She joked.

Jey couldn't help but chuckle at her joke.

"Yeah, I suppose you do make a good tag team partner," he said, trying to hide the hint of sadness in his voice.

Jax noticed the hidden emotion in his tone, she reached out and touched his hand gently.

"You okay, Jey?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Jey's heart fluttered at her touch, and he felt a rush of emotions surge through him.

He wanted to say something, anything, to let her know how he felt. But the fear of rejection kept him silent.

Instead, he just nodded, unable to meet her gaze.

The moment stretched on, and the weight of Jey's unspoken feelings became too much to bear.

He couldn't keep them bottled up any longer.

"Jax, there's something I need to tell you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jax's heart skipped a beat as she heard the seriousness in his voice.

She sat down next to him, her eyes locked on his face.

"What is it?" she asked, her own voice filled with a mix of anticipation and concern.

Jey took a deep breath, gathering his courage.

"I... I've been feeling things lately," he began, struggling to find the right words. "Feelings I never thought I'd feel."

Jax's heart was pounding in her chest as she listened to Jey's confession.

She could sense the vulnerability in his voice, and it was both thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

"I can't stop thinking about you," Jey continued, his voice trembling slightly. "You're always on my mind, and it's driving me crazy."

Jax's eyes widened in surprise as she heard Jey's words.

She hadn't expected this, and her heart was racing with a mix of emotions.

"Jey, I..." she started to say, but she couldn't find the words.

"I know our first date was a trainwreck, i know we fight like cats and dogs.. But if you just give me one do-over.." Jey says.

Jax was stunned into silence for a moment, her mind reeling from the confession.

She could hardly believe what she was hearing, but the vulnerability and sincerity in Jey's voice was undeniable.

After a moment, she found her voice again.

"One do-over?" she repeated, her eyes locked on his.

Jey nodded, his heart in his throat.

"I want to do things right this time," he said, his voice filled with determination. "I want to take you on a proper date, without the drama and without fighting."

Jax's heart skipped a beat again as she imagined the possibilities.

A proper date, with Jey. No fighting, no tension, just the two of them, enjoying each other's company.

She would have never thought about giving him a second chance before, but now...

"Okay," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

She was surprised by how quickly she had agreed, but there was no denying the flutter in her chest at the thought of being his.

Jey's eyes lit up with a mix of surprise and hope at her agreement.

"Really?" he asked, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

Jax bit her lip, feeling a rush of emotions swirling within her.

She knew that she had been denying her feelings for him for a long time, but now that he had confessed his own feelings, it was impossible to keep them hidden any longer.

"Jey," she said, taking a deep breath. "I've been falling for you too."

Jey's heart soared at her confession, and he felt a wave of relief wash over him.

"You have?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder.

He couldn't believe it, but he knew that she wouldn't have said it if it wasn't true.

"I want you. I want you to cuddle, to watch movies with. I want you to take care of me. To be my Daddy Dom. If you'll have me." Jax responds the last part in a whisper. Not that anyone was paying attention to them, or could hear them over the music for that matter.

Jey's heart rate quickened even more at her confession, and his eyes widened in surprise.

He had never imagined that she would say something like that.

But as he looked at her, he could see the vulnerability in her eyes, the desire and longing that mirrored his own.

"I want all of that too," he whispered back, his voice filled with a newfound tenderness.

The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with desire and anticipation.

Jey's eyes darkened as he looked at her, his thoughts running wild with possibilities.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

Jax nodded, her heart racing with excitement and anticipation.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jey reached out and gently pulled her into his lap, his arms wrapping around her waist possessively.

He looked into her eyes, his gaze intense and full of desire.

"Then I'm all yours," he said, his voice a husky whisper.

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Meanwhile, Lele was walking through the crowded wedding reception when she suddenly collided with someone, causing them to spill a drink all over her.

She looked up, annoyed and irritated, to see Zilla, Roman's younger cousin if she wasn't mistaken.

"Watch where you're going," Lele snapped, looking down at the mess on her dress.

The alcohol was already soaking into the fabric, staining it with a large wet spot.

Zilla, to Lele's irritation, seemed completely unfazed by the incident.

He just shrugged and said, "Damn girl, my bad."

Lele scowled at his nonchalance, feeling even more annoyed that he didn't seem to care about the damage he had caused.

"Your bad? That's all you have to say?" she said, crossing her arms in frustration.

Zilla chuckled and said, "Relax, it's just a dress. I'll buy you a new one."

"I don't need your money. I don't need you to buy me anything! Now if you'll excuse me.." Lele said.

Zilla raised an eyebrow, amused by her rejection.

"Feisty one, aren't you?" he said, his eyes roaming over her body.

"Oh fuck off" Lele rolled her eyes and walked away.

Zilla watched her walk away, a smirk playing on his lips.

He couldn't deny that he was intrigued by her attitude. Yeah, he wanted that...

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The reception was drawing to a close, and Jey and Jax had spent the rest of the evening together, chatting and enjoying each other's company.

They had danced together, laughed together, and stolen countless kisses. It was the most perfect evening they could have imagined. He'd even been able to almost keep up with her durring their dance, despite Jax's years of professional training.

After saying goodbye to their friends and family, Jey and Jax made their way to his car.

The drive to his house was quiet and intimate, the two of them lost in their own thoughts as they reveled in the night's events.

As they arrived at his house, Jey turned to her with a smirk.

"We're finally alone," he said, his voice low and suggestive.

Jax felt a shiver run down her spine at his words, her heart rate quickening in anticipation.

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with desire and longing.

"And what do you plan on doing with that fact?" she asked, her voice sultry.

Jey smirked and leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear.

"I have a few ideas," he whispered, his hand slowly running up her thigh.

Jax's breath hitched at his touch, her body responding instantly to his gentle caress.

She could feel the heat building between them, the tension in the air growing thicker with each passing moment.

Jey continued to tease her, his hand slowly moving higher up her thigh, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her skin.

He could feel her body trembling beneath his touch, and he knew that she was aching for more.

As they finally entered the house, Jax's patience had reached its limit.

She grabbed Jey by the collar and pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss, unable to wait any longer for what she had been craving all night.

Jey responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around her as he deepened the kiss. He pressed her against the wall, his body pressed tightly against hers as he explored her mouth with his tongue.

The kiss grew more intense, their hands roaming each other's bodies as they both gave in to their desire.

Jey began to trail kisses down her neck, his teeth gently nipping at her skin as he made his way to her collarbone.

Jax tilted her head back, giving him better access to her sensitive skin.

She moaned softly, her fingers tangling in his hair as he continued to tease her with his lips and tongue.

"Go on and strip for Daddy, baby." Jey commanded.

Jax's breath hitched at his command, her eyes widening with excitement.

She looked at him with a mixture of submission and desire, she turns glancing back over her shoulder silently asking him to help with the zipper on her dress.

Jey chuckled at her silent request, his hands moving to the zipper on the back of her dress.

He slowly unzipped it, his fingers grazing her skin as he did so.

As the dress loosened around her body, he could feel her shudder with anticipation.

With the dress now unzipped, Jax stepped out of it, standing before Jey in nothing but her black lace lingerie.

She looked at him with a mix of vulnerability and confidence, knowing that he was completely in control.

Jey's eyes raked over her body, taking in the sight of her lingerie-clad curves.

He let out a low growl of approval, his hands tracing the contours of her body as he pulled her closer.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his lips finding her ear once more.

He began to nibble at her earlobe, his hands moving down to her hips as he pulled her flush against him.

Jax felt her body molding against his, their skin pressing together as they held each other tightly.

She could feel the heat radiating off of him, his arousal evident through the fabric of his pants.

Jey's hands moved lower, his fingers tracing the edge of her panties.

He teased her for a moment, running his fingers along the fabric, before he suddenly grabbed her ass and squeezed it firmly.

Jax clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he continued to touch her in ways that drove her wild.

Jax let out a whimper, her body trembling as he nibbled at her neck.

She wanted him so badly, she was practically aching for him to take her right then and there.

Jey chuckled softly, enjoying the way she was responding to his every touch.

He pulled back slightly, looking at her with a mixture of desire and dominance.

"Bedroom. Now," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative.

Jax didn't hesitate, she followed his command immediately, moving quickly towards the bedroom.

She could feel his eyes on her as she walked, her hips swaying with each step as she knew he was enjoying the view.

Once they reached the bedroom, Jey wasted no time in pulling her close and began to kiss her again, his lips moving against hers in a frenzied pace.

His hands roamed over her body, exploring every inch of her skin as he claimed her mouth with his.

Jax melted into the kiss, surrendering herself completely to his touch.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as she moaned into his mouth.

Jey broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her jawline to her neck.He began to nibble at her sensitive skin, leaving small marks as he went.

"You're mine," he whispered between kisses, his voice low and possessive.

"All mine," he repeated, his hands roaming down to her thighs as he began to lift her up.

He pinned her against the wall with his body, holding her up as he continued to tease her neck with his lips and tongue.

Jax wrapped her legs around his waist, holding on tightly as he pressed her against the wall.

She let out a soft moan as he nibbled at a particularly sensitive spot on her neck, her body arching into his touch.

Jey broke away from her neck, looking up at her with a smirk. He pulled back slightly, his eyes fixed on her as he sat her on her feet and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties. He tugged them down slowly, letting them fall to the floor before his hands moved to her bra.

He unclasped it, letting it fall away to reveal her bare breasts.

Jax stood before him, completely naked and vulnerable.

She felt exposed, yet also empowered by the way he was looking at her, his gaze filled with desire and lust.

Jey's hands returned to her body, caressing her bare skin as he began to explore her curves.

He traced the lines of her hips, the swell of her breasts, and the dip of her waist.

"So perfect," he murmured, his fingers trailing down to her inner thigh.

"Strip me," he commanded.

He leaned back against the wall, his eyes locked on hers as he waited for her to obey his command.

Jax felt a shiver of excitement run down her spine at his command.

She moved quickly, her hands making quick work of his clothes as she removed them piece by piece.

Once he was naked, Jey's eyes raked over her body, his gaze taking in every inch of her skin.

He looked at her with an intense hunger, his desire for her clear as he took in the sight of her standing before him, completely naked and ready for him.

Jey stepped forward and lifted her up effortlessly, carrying her to the bed before laying her down on it.

He climbed on top of her, settling himself between her legs as he began to kiss and nibble at her neck again.

Jax moaned softly as he continued to tease her, her body arching up into his touch yet again.

She could feel his erection pressing against her, a reminder of the pleasure that was about to come.

Jey began to kiss his way down her body, his lips trailing over her skin as he made his way to her chest.

He paused there, taking one of her nipples into his mouth and sucking gently.

"Mm.. Daddy!" Jax let out a gasp as he sucked at her nipple, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure through her body.

She could feel herself growing more aroused with each passing moment, her hips moving instinctively against him.

He released her nipple, continuing his path down her body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake.

Jey positioned himself between her legs, his gaze locked on hers as he slowly pushed himself inside her.

Jax gasped as he entered her, the sensation of him filling her up completely causing her to arch her back and moan.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as she adjusted to the feeling of him inside her.

Jey let out a low groan as he began to move, his hips rolling against hers in a slow, steady rhythm.

He looked down at her, watching her face as he moved inside her, enjoying the way her eyes fluttered shut and her lips parted in pleasure.

As they moved together, their bodies entwined, the room filled with the sound of their moans and gasps.

Jax clung to him tightly, her fingers digging into his tatted back as she met each of his thrusts with her own movements.

The pleasure built steadily between them, their bodies growing hotter and more desperate with each passing moment.

Jax could feel herself nearing the edge, her breath coming in short gasps as she clung to the last shreds of her control.

Jey sensed that she was close, and he quickened his pace, driving into her harder and faster.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear, his voice hoarse with desire.

"Let go, babygirl," he urged, his breath hot against her skin. "Come on Daddy's dick."

His words were like a trigger, and with a shuddering gasp, Jax let go.

She arched her back and clenched around him, her body convulsing with pleasure as she cried out his name.

Jey felt her clench around him, the sensation sending him over the edge as well.

He let out a deep groan, burying his face in her neck as he thrust into her one final time, spilling himself inside her.

They both lay there, panting and sweaty, as they came down from their high.

Jey collapsed on top of her, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he tried to catch his breath.

Jax wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as they both lay there in the afterglow.

She ran her fingers through his hair, a contented smile on her face as she savored the feeling of his weight on top of her.

Jey eventually rolled off of her, lying on his back next to her.

He draped an arm around her, pulling her close and holding her against his chest as they both slowly regained their composure.

They lay there in silence for a while, simply enjoying the closeness and the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Jey gently traced his fingers up and down her spine, his touch gentle and soothing.

Jax snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his chest and listening to the steady beat of his heart.

She could feel herself growing sleepy, the combination of their intense lovemaking and the warmth of his embrace lulling her into a peaceful state of relaxation.

"So..." Jax said

"So..." Jey echoed, his voice still a little hoarse from their earlier activities.

He caressed her, his touch affectionate and possessive.

"That was quite the main event, Jey Uso.." She smirked

Jey chuckled softly, a smirk spreading across his face as well.

"I aim to please," he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Previous Chapter

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Coming Soon!

[wolfxe]

my god dorian is so bad. what the hell

[druidposting]

Are there any fans out there with actual experience in music theory who can write on how wonderfully crafted and perfectly implimented the Midst soundtrack is?

Cause all i know to say with my bare-bones knowledge is mmmm chacter themes. I love when i hear Phineas' leitmotif during conversations that mention him. I love how his character theme feels trepedatious at the start, and then swells into this grand, epic thing when he makes a leap into the unknown. I love the way that his full theme always plays when he makes a decision for himself, because the crux of his character arc is indecision and lacking a sense of self. I love the caution of the begining of his theme and the way it builds into this final, crystal clear crescendo and how it reflects the way he always feels most certain when in mortal peril. I love that when you strip away all of that epic instrumentation, that cautious, uncertain throughline, that Phineas core remains beneith it all. I love that its that core that's used as Phineas' leitmotif.

[daincrediblegg]

yeah. I don't care what anyone says I still love 2005 p&p more than 1995 bbc p&p

[claitea]

just finished watching a xenoblade 3 playthrough. i am So sad

[arolesbianism]

The Joshua section of my oni playlist is looking great so far

[hazelplaysgames]

Aigis is scripted to be last. and... i think all i can really think about is when i played Cyber Sleuth last year, and Hacker's Memory. i played the yellow game first, had a blast, loved the characters and mechanics, and then played the blue game. and the tears just keep on coming.

in the months between queuing this(mid-August) and adding this little addition(mid-October), i got into a little gacha game, and i think i can understand what Aigis means more about having someone to take care of ever more now. i'll say, i like the story in Blue Archive a lot more than i ever expected too.

[pantherxrogers]

after the game - wooyoung x fem!reader (18+)

⚾️ pairing: wooyoung x fem!reader

⚾️ warnings: pure smut (18+), no plot lmao, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, housewife kink, explicit language, gentle dom vibes, hint of sub reader, not proofread 👀

⚾️ summary: after seeing his wife interact with the kids at the baseball game, wooyoung wants one of his own.

⚾️ a/n: still trying out the lowercase text! this is puuuuure smut with no plot, so i hope you guys are okay with that lmao. also, i am madly in love with wooyoung and that baseball game did not help 😮‍💨

my masterlist

This is a work of fiction and is not meant to represent real events or the actual personalities of any K-pop idols mentioned. All characters and situations are purely imaginary. This story is created for entertainment purposes only, and no harm or disrespect is intended toward the idols or their fans. Enjoy!

it all started with a baseball game.

now, wooyoung’s black jersey and pants are strewn on your bedroom floor, along with your sundress and thong. the pair of you barely made it to the bedroom, bodies intertwined as soon as you got home.

he’s still slightly sweaty from the heat, refusing to shower until he’s had his fill of you. he’s been hard for hours, and he’s not stopping until you both get your fix.

all you can do now is pant beneath him, his thick cock stretching you to the brink. the fringe of his grown-out hair hangs over his hooded eyes, which are focused on your sopping cunt.

he bites his lip at the sight, fascinated by your wetness coating his shaft. your steady moans keep him going, like music to his ears.

“that feel good, baby?” he teases, pushing further into you, knowing that you’re on cloud 9. you can feel every ridge of his cock, the closeness sending a shudder down your spine.

“sh-, shit, yes,” you huff, “feels so good, woo,” you whine, lifting up to meet his lips.

it’s sloppy and wet, both of you focused on the intense pleasure. the way his tongue delves into your mouth makes your pussy even wetter. he’s like a starved man, ravaging your body for whatever you can give him.

“fuck, this pussy is so damn tight,” he groans, breaking the kiss. the sight of him wetting his fingers makes your eyes roll back. when he starts rubbing tight circles on your clit, you know you won’t be able to hold back for long.

“uh, woo, please,” you whine, unsure of what you’re actually asking for. you’re so close, but you don’t want this to end. he lets out a cocky laugh, carrying above the slick sounds of his sharp thrusts.

“i know, baby, i know.” he slows down a bit, making sure you feel all of him. he loves the way your face contorts, getting off on your pleasure.

“h-harder, please,” you beg, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. you moan out when he leans down, slower thrusts allowing him to grind against your clit.

you let out a gasp, hands suddenly pinned to the mattress beneath you. he’s staring at you intently, wanting to see the moment you fall apart.

“look at me when i’m fucking you.” his serious tone makes your pussy throb. when you meet his eyes, you’re enthralled by his beauty.

his tanned cheeks are flushed, brows furrowed in concentration. his full bottom lip is between his teeth, another sign of the harsh way he drills into your pussy. a warm shiver spreads over your body, further turned on by the hungry look in his eyes.

“there’s my pretty girl,” he hums, love-filled smile briefly breaking through his dominant demeanor. you whine when he pulls his cock out, sitting up to find out why he stopped.

you sweep your eyes over his body, appreciating the beauty of your husband. his lean body before you, muscular thighs bent at the knee, sitting back on his heels.

his veiny hand grips the base of his cock, tapping it on your clit. he makes a show off stroking himself, loving the way to stare at him. your thighs quiver, the sight of him making your pussy clench around nothing.

he pants, rolling his head back at the way your wetness clings to his tip. each tap of his sensitive head against your clit drives him wild.

“woo, please,” your voice cuts through to him, breaking his trance. with one last drag from your clit to your opening, he nestles his cock into you, the squelch filling the quiet of your bedroom.

“fuck, gonna cum soon,” he grunts, his thighs slapping against your thick ones.

“me too,” you squeal, feeling more of your wetness leak onto his hard cock. lifting up, you trace your tongue along the vein in his neck, the sensation making his cock jump inside of you.

“gonna cum in this pussy, make you a proper housewife,” your eyes roll back at his words, excited by the mention of his breeding kink.

“y-yes, please,” you squeal, bringing your hips up, matching the pace of his thrusts.

“want me to fill you up?” he huffs, pinning your wrists again. “maybe i should just cum in this pussy and get you pregnant, hm?”

“f-fuck woo! i’m cumming!” you squeal, eyes shutting at the immense pleasure. he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, rolling his hips into your clit, prolonging your pleasure.

“that’s right baby, cum for daddy,” he groans, thrusts getting sloppy at the sight of your fucked out expression. your pussy feels even wetter around him, the lewd noise pushing him further to the edge. your hand comes up to tweak his nipple, before running your manicured nails down his abs.

“you look so pretty for me, woo,” you hum, turning your head to press a kiss to his flexed arm.

“shit, i’m close,” he whines, hips losing their rhythm. you wrap your arms around his neck, meeting him with a sweet kiss before you pull away.

“wanna feel you cum inside me, woo,” you purr, looking up at him with doe eyes. “wanna feel you in me all night,” you look straight into his eyes, already seeing his orgasm wash over him.

“fuuuuuuuck,” he pants, warm spurts of cum flooding your wrecked pussy. you soothe him during his orgasm, stroking every part of him you can get your hands on.

when you’ve both come down, wooyoung is quick to hop up, much to your dismay.

“wooooooo,” you whine out, missing his warmth already.

“i know, baby, it’s okay,” he coos, running into the bathroom to grab a washcloth for you. when he comes back, he’s very gentle, carefully cleaning your sensitive folds. he finishes off with a soft kiss to your thigh, finally taking his place beside you again.

he pulls you into him, your sweaty bodies cuddled together beneath the sheets. your little yawn makes him chuckle, heart full of love at your cuteness.

“did i tire my baby out?” he teases, lifting your chin so he can see those pretty brown eyes. your smile is bashful, always feeling a little shy after a particularly strong orgasm. he smothers you kisses, unable to contain his love for you.

“speaking of babies,” you murmur, now causing a blush to spread across his face. “hello, mr. breeding kink,” you tease him, having fun with his embarrassment.

“you just looked so sweet today with all the kids. it made me start thinking about our future kids,” he confesses, tracing his finger along your cheek. you feel your heart skip at his confession, trying to fight back the sudden tears in your eyes.

“jagi, what’s wrong?” he hums, brows furrowing at your tears. he’s afraid for a second, hoping his confession hasn’t made you uncomfortable.

“nothing baby, i was thinking the same thing today,” you pout, so in love with the man in front of you.

you share a kiss so sweet it almost makes your heart burst. wooyoung’s lips are soft against yours, setting a slow pace. you both savor the feeling, never tiring of sharing your affection.

you’re both breathless when you pull away, giggling under the sheets like teenagers.

“so, maybe we should keep practicing,” he smirks, covering your body with his own. it’ll be a while until the both of you leave the bedroom again.

[rainrot4me]

Jeff the Killer General Headcannons

Summary: Basic, SFW, and NSFW head-cannons. My personal thoughts, feelings, and opinions about Jeff as a character.

TW: NSFW below the cut, minors dni! Above the cut is sfw!

Words: 2.6k

Basic:

- Big isolation guy. He enjoys pestering people or hanging out, but when it comes to personal things like missions or killing sprees, he prefers to be alone. His head’s already loud enough that he doesn’t need to add to it when he’s trying to focus.

- Blunt. Like to the point it’s a drag to even talk to him sometimes. He doesn’t really give a shit about anyone or anything besides himself, so why would he need to hide what he actually wants to say?

- Dangerously short temper. It barely takes one nasty remark or even a hint that you have ill intent towards him before the killer is on your ass. Would rather beat the shit out of you than take the time to reconcile.

- A STARER. Has absolutely no remorse when just boring his eyes into someone, eyes wide and horrifying. He loves to watch every expression as he’s ending someone’s life, every bit of anger or fear, but especially the blank stare in their eyes afterward. You catch his glance all the time, and instead of looking away politely like a normal person would, he just smiles as he glares even harder.

- Loves story based video games that Ben shows him. Life is Strange, Night in the Woods, and What Remains of Edith Finch. Has to play them all in their entirety before he can do anything else, so he’ll be glued to the couch for days.

- Has a difficult time with names, so he comes up with nicknames or terms to make it easier. “Twitch” - Toby, “Sockets” - Jack, or “Glitch” - Ben. Don’t worry, he’ll give you one, too.

- A laugher. When he’s in pain, when he’s sad, when he’s happy, that man is laughing. Choked out dry heaving chuckles or tipsy short airheaded giggles, it doesn’t matter, he will be laughing.

- Terrible sleep paralysis and nightmares keep him up during the night, the most sleep this man will ever get is a little over 3 hours. It really doesn’t help his mood, either.

- The scars on his cheeks used to bleed and get infected so bad he could barely shut his mouth due to the swelling. He would numb it down with pain killers and anything he could find, but it wasn’t until Slender tried to make him into a proxy that they eventually sealed and scarred over, creating wide gashes (weird cryptid powers).

- Thinks about his brother every waking moment. He feels so much pent up regret and sadness concerning Liu, but refuses to search for him or even shed a tear. This sends him into mental breakdown episodes, and sadly, the only relief is just to create more carnage.

- Actually really hates violence unless he’s the one delivering it. Doesn’t like violent movies or music because they romanticize everything he hates about himself. Any media he enjoys is either really bland or really toned down, stuff that won’t trigger him.

- Cuts his own hair, and yes, he’s horrible at it.

- Messed up his appearance to make himself ‘beautiful’, but just ended up so disgusted and ashamed of himself in the long run. When his mental fog gets bad, he’ll just stand in front of the mirror and stare at himself, letting every negative thought wash over. Outside, he’ll brandish it like a weapon, something to get victims to submit. But on the inside, it’s just a nasty reminder.

- Showers only when it gets to the uncomfortable point. He doesn’t have the time or energy or wash himself every day, but when it gets to the point he feels the blood and grime subconsciously, he’ll get over it. Even if he does wash himself, half the time actually in the shower is just letting the water run over him and staring at the tile wall.

- Gets all of his money and random trinkets from victims. Proceeds to spend all that money almost immediately after on a pack of Blue Moons. No orange slice, either.

- Messy, disgusting room. Has no healthy habits of keeping him or his space tidy, so it’s always near disastrous.

- Even though the media and lots of outlets perceive him as this insane maniac killer, those were all big stories from his teenage years. Even though he doesn’t feel like he’s matured, he’s definitely found a happy medium away from spree after spree of slaughter. He still itches to take down a whole neighborhood, but he’s found his ways to cope.

- Very good at hand-to-hand combat. He wields a knife if things get a little rough, but prefers to use his hands to do the dirty work. Makes it feel more personal to him.

- Late-night kitchen demon. You’ll find him rummaging the fridge or making a bowl of cereal in the complete darkness, but he’ll swear up and down it wasn’t him.

- Annoying, painfully so. Hell wrack EJ’s ear off or pester Toby about little things, but he can’t help but get giddy when he sees he’s ticked them off just enough.

- Really agile. Had a thinner build, but muscle definition and tension really adds to the aesthetic. Really defined v-line and hips bones, as well as carved out shoulders and collarbones. Looks like a beefier skeleton, but hot.

- Lip piercings. Snake bites. They’re not healed and they’re not pretty, but he thinks they look badass.

- Scars and jagged pieces of flesh everywhere on his body. They’re either from mission aftermaths, rough targets, or his own doing, but they’re all gnarly and barely healed half of the time. They hurt terribly, but he’s constantly cracked out on painkillers that he doesn’t even care anymore.

- Enjoys the shoegaze music genre. Aldn, Wisp, Elita, Deftones, and surprisingly, The Cardigans and The Cranberries. They remind him of his childhood.

Dating Him/SFW:

- “Baby” “Babe” “Cunt”

- Big words of affirmation guy. He’ll act disgusted and shove you off, rolling his eyes about your sweet words- but in reality, he’s gushing so hard he can’t stand it. Reassurance makes him feel more loved than anything.

- The fastest ‘enemies or lovers’ troupe you’ll ever experience. It’ll only take one face-to-face argument before you both get too close and he’s pulling you in for a rough make out. He’s bad with emotions, what makes you think he wouldn't be bad at reading love/hate signals too.

- HATES to show any sign of weakness or adoration. If you’re laying with him or holding his hand, as soon as someone enters the room he’s shoving you off. It’s not that he doesn’t love you, it’s a deep-rooted fear that someone will use you against him.

- If he’s spent the night in your bed, he will always be gone by the time you’ve woken up. Out of fear of vulnerability, he will only fall asleep after you and wake up before you, otherwise he just won’t stay with you at all.

- He’s like dealing with a little kid. Yes, he’s been through heaps of mental anguish and trauma, but he’s gone through all of that without a hand to hold. In some sad way, he sees something motherly and comforting in you which drives him to latch on and become dependent. It's weird, but so is he.

- Jealousy problems. Big time.

- “He touched you. So I cut his arm off. What is so hard to understand here?”

- Needs to be bossed around. He can and will rot in his bed all day unless you tell him to get up and do something.

- Absolutely melts when you kiss him unprovoked. When he doesn’t force you or tease you into one, but when you decide to kiss his face or hands on your own terms. It’s his favorite thing.

- In his manic brain, he wants something calm, someone who can settle him out. You offer him stability and a chance to unwind and that’s really all he needs.

- As a nervous response, he’ll intentionally push you away if he knows you like him. He holds a lot of regret, so he doesn’t want to drag you along with the rest of his baggage. Will say and do things he knows will hurt your feelings so you leave on your own.

- “And what made you think I’d want you? Because we kissed? Hah! How cute.” Meanwhile, he’s in his room pining himself to shreds.

- Watches you sleep constantly. Doesn’t matter where you are or how far, he will trek through your window or into your bed to watch you snore quietly against your pillow. He likes the vulnerability of it and acting as your ‘protector’, like you have no choice but to rely on him in this state.

- You are the last person Jeff wants to break down in front of, but when it eventually happens, and you’re there with open arms- the killer can barely breathe from how full his heart feels. The feeling of just being able to sob and bury into your shoulder while you rub his back is incomparable.

- Possessive AND protective to a fault. Wants everyone to know you’re his, but at the same time, really enjoys when you flaunt yourself so he can stare down the wandering eyes and really show them who they’d be messing with. Either way, eats it up when you feel good about yourself and safe in him.

- Nasty, terribly toxic relationship. You both bounce off of each other and are constantly arguing, but you both get over it because you’ve grown codependent. There’s nothing ‘casual’ about the two of you, you’re either fuck buddies or desperately clawing at each other for survival. Jeff is an obsessive guy, he either wants everything to do with you or he’ll hide away and tear himself apart over you.

- Jewelry is such a yes for him. If you’re wearing thick earrings or chunky necklaces that brighten your face, he eats it up. He’s such a sucker for silver.

- Does not ask for kisses, he takes them.

- “C’mon baby, I can’t help it. You’re just so fun to mess with.”

- Since he doesn’t sleep much, likes to lay on his back while your head rests on his chest/shoulder. He’ll tangle his fingers through your hair or brush your cheek with his thumb while he stares at you or the ceiling. Even when he has doubts about you loving him, your body always subconsciously shifts towards him while you’re snoozing, and it makes him feel just a little better.

- Fake punches/hits you when he’s bored. Will hold his hands up and box at your face but never making contact, just enough to have you side-eye him. He thinks it’s funny.

- Shoulder kisses.

Dating Him/NSFW:

- Can and will touch you inappropriately no matter the circumstances. His rough hands groping your ass or shoving between your thighs to give flirty little touches in front of everyone, his shit-eating grin when you get embarrassed.

- “Stop glaring, sweet cheeks. I know you want me.”

- Will fight to his dying day that he’s a top, but as soon as you even give him a glint of dominance or snap at him, he’s folding so fast. Dominant person, submissive lover.

- Killing machine on the field, pathetic ass bottom in bed. It takes forever to get to that point, but once he’s mentally checked out and half-drooling on the mattress, he’s so pliable and lightheaded he’ll take it with ease. You have to really work for it, but Jeff trusts you/wants it bad enough subconsciously that he’ll force himself to go into a subspace.

- All-time favorite position is laying you out on your back, one leg up on his shoulder while the other is being held down at your side. It really opens you up and gives the nastiest, most lewd noises that have him pussydrunk. Bonus points for reaching a hand in to choke you.

- “And to think you were beggin’ me to stop while your pussy is soaked. I mean, look at you, babe. You’re suckin’ me in somethin’ awful.”

- CHOKING. Either you or him, he gets off on it so bad. Choking you is so satisfying, he loves the resistance and struggle as you gasp for air, face flushed and eyes rolling with his fist around your throat. Meanwhile, if you’re choking him, his body nearly convulses from the pleasure. He loves the lightheadedness and pressure of it, hoarse chuckles as both of your hands grip around his neck and just squeeze. He thinks he could cum just from being strangled.

- “What’s wrong, baby? Lil’ too much? Ah- You’ll get over it, just open up f’me.”

- Hair pulling, strangling, biting, smacking—really anything that’ll cause pain.

- Standing side-by-side in the mirror, his body is littered with nasty cuts and scars while yours is littered with pretty bite marks and hickeys. He loves it.

- Eating you out is so tiring, but it’s all worth it to look up and see your heavy, glassed-over eyes beaming down at him, lips parted as you’re gasping.

- Hard, quick thrusts that have you gasping and yelping. His hips snap against yours rhythmically until you throw your head back, then he leans in close and shifts his knees closer to really speed up. He never has a set pace, but prefers always adjusting to whatever has you making the most noise.

- “C’mon… Louder- Hah- I’m not stoppin’ till you’re cryin’ for it.”

- A bitch fight every time you two get together. Bickering with the other about ‘who can last longer’ or ‘going until you beg for it’ and it irritates the shit out of both of you. Gets you both riled up that you’re more fighting than fucking, but by the end, you’re both dead exhausted and reduced to panting messed laid out on top of each other.

- Refuses to pull out. He can’t get you pregnant, Slender made sure of that (God help if this heathen was allowed to procreate), so it’s either in your cunt, ass, or mouth, nowhere else. Even if he’s jerking himself off, he’ll wait to cum until he can get to you and finish himself out.

- Stands over you and stares hard enough until you’re reduced to your knees, words never even leaving his lips before you’re unbuckling his belt and shifting his jeans down. He’s fought you enough, sometimes you like to just be good for him.

- Pulling him in by his belt >>>>>>>>>

- Eating you out or sucking you off so much that drool leaks from his scars, eyes so hazed and soft as he hums and moans against you.

- “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

- Fucked you with the handle of his knife because you read something about it in a book and wanted to see if it actually felt good. He was weirded out at first, but when he watched you jerking your hips and mumbling for him to fuck you, he’s never fucked his cock in faster while rubbing the blunt of the handle against your drooling clit. Same thing with running the blade against your skin. It just elicits some reaction out of you that he can’t understand, but it turns him on terribly.

- Has a big thing for cop x prisoner roleplay actually.

- “What? Officer, how am I supposed to finger you with these handcuffs, hm? I guess you’ll just have to let me go, yeah? Or do you not want it as bad as your pussy leads me to believe?”

- Really loves fingering you while he’s buried in your ass. Curling his fingers up to make you arch your back just a little more, having your head spinning from the overstimulation… yeah.

- A 2-3 round champion. He’ll never be able to just cum once and be satisfied, regardless if you’re ready to stop or not, he’s forcing his cock back into wherever it was or in a completely different hole and riding himself out to his next orgasm. If he’s not shaking and on the verge of passing out after sex, it wasn’t good enough for him.

- “Jeff, stop! We could get caught!” “Or you could just shut up and take your panties off. You’re soaked, there’s no point in fighting me when I’m already this hard… C’mon, baby, give me your hand or something…”

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[rosielovesf1]

spilling secrets on stream | LN4

what better place to hard launch a relationship than twitch?

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none!

author's note: it's been so fun thinking up little story ideas and this is the product of one of them. fair warning that it's been forever since i've played fortnite so probably not very accurate when it comes to that 🤦‍♀️ thank youuu for reading and have a great day!!

also my requests are open if you would like to see a certain story/driver!! 🫶

“Hi guys, sorry I’m late,” Lando said, adjusting his headphones as he started the stream. There were a surprising number of people online for this Thursday afternoon, but he had posted on his story that Max would be joining him, so that could explain the popularity. Not that he would ever tell him that. 

“Max is joining now.” He stretched his arms over his head, smirking when the chat quickly noticed the sliver of skin he’d exposed in the simple motion. Oops. “Is Max with you right now? No, chat, I’m in Monaco. How’s offseason? It’s good. I’ve been doing a whole lot of nothing.” 

Lando read through and answered a couple more questions until Max’s face popped up on his screen. 

“Hello hello,” Max said, waving to the camera. “How are we, chat? What are we playing?” 

After a couple minutes of debate, they decided on Fortnite. The first round was short lived- Lando got shot pretty much immediately. Now, him and Max were two of ten players remaining, but the sound of the front door opening caused him to turn his focus away from the game. 

“y/n?” Lando called out after muting himself, turning away from the screen to see if his girlfriend had just arrived home. 

“Bro, what are you doing?” Max protested, his character running circles around Lando’s still one. Two other characters spotted them over a nearby hill and started firing immediately, with Max left alone to defend them. “You muppet!” Within seconds, Lando had died, and Max didn’t have enough time to resuscitate him in the midst of defending himself. 

“My bad.” Lando turned back to the screen, laughing at Max’s distress. 

“That was entirely your fault.” Max responded, pausing to look at his phone alert from Lando. 

I think y/n just got back and she doesn’t know I’m on stream. Can you stay on until I get back? 

Even though Lando and his girlfriend were practically living together at this point, staying at each other’s homes almost every night during the offseason, they were yet to make it official in the eyes of the public. Max knew this better than everyone- often having to cover for the couple when they weren’t cautious enough- and smirked as he typed back a yes. Lando took that as a sign to communicate his exit. “Be right back, chat. Don’t be too mean to Max while I’m gone.” 

He opened and shut the door to the room behind him, padding down the soft carpet runner of the hallway. “y/n?” Her bright pink trainers were by the front door, and seeing as he could hear the shower down the hall, she must’ve just come back from a run. 

All of a sudden, music started blasting- a Doja Cat song, Lando knew from y/n's time on the aux whenever they were in the car together. 

“y/n,” Lando laughed, knocking on the bathroom door, “I’m on stream darling.” It wasn’t that he minded the noise, or that the chat would know very quickly that there was a girl in his house (he wasn’t really the Doja Cat type). If it were up to him, he would’ve posted y/n the day they had made it official, four months ago. But they’d decided to wait a bit and enjoy the privacy. 

No response still. He tried the bathroom door handle but it was locked. She must’ve not known he was coming home, Lando thought cheekily to himself. Otherwise, it would’ve been open. He gave up and retreated back to the room with his setup, shooting a quick text over to y/n that he was home. 

Lando settled back into his chair, turning the camera on. “Alright, chat, I’m back. Sorry to leave you with Max.” 

Max raised an eyebrow at the music that filtered in through Lando’s mic, choosing not to comment on it. The chat wasn’t as sly though, with every other comment questioning the source. 

“Didn’t know Lando was a Doja Cat fan. I’m not.” The ambiguous comment sparked even more questions, and Lando just shook his head jokingly as they started another game. As he died for a third time, Max cursing and threatening to find someone better to play with, the music cut and the distant sound of the shower running stopped. 

“Lando?” y/n called out, freezing as she read over his text in the hallway. Lando’s eyes widened and he quickly muted himself, sliding his headphones off. As he stood up he heard y/n's footsteps nearing the door and managed to shut the camera off just in time. 

Lando pulled open the door and the scent of coconut and hibiscus floated in. y/n looked up at him with wide eyes in sweatpants and a stolen Quadrant t-shirt, her hair still wet from the shower. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize that you were streaming.” She peeked over his shoulder and her eyes widened at the rapidly scrolling chat, the viewers going crazy about the distinctly female voice they’d overheard. Max had given up at pretending to ignore them and had shut off his camera as well, only adding to the viewers assumptions. 

He pulled her into a hug, mumbling “You smell good.” into her hair as a way of greeting. She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed tightly, rocking back and forth. 

“Did they hear me?” 

“Yeah.” They shuffled over to the computer together, her almost afraid to read the chat that was still scrolling at a million miles a minute. Lando read out one comment that said “can Lando’s girlfriend fight?” and raised a questioning eyebrow at the girl next to him. 

“Heck yeah. Look at these muscles. Try me.” She bounced back and forth on her heels, hands up in a boxing stance.

Lando laughed at her, locking her in a headlock that she quickly wiggled out of. “Not fair,” she whined. “Caught me by surprise.” 

He pulled her in front of him to straighten out the locks of hair he’d mussed, and kissed her forehead before looking down at her. “What if we told them about us right now?” 

“You think?” She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, and he ran a gentle thumb over it to get her to stop. 

“I think they’re going to love you as much as I do.” She leaned into him at that statement, and he watched her eyes as she seemed to process his statement. 

“Alright,” she still looked hesitant, but brightened up as she opened her mouth to speak again. “I’m already wearing the right shirt and everything.” 

“Quadrants #1 fan.” He smiled, pulling her over to the computer. They split the chair so that both of them could sit, and she draped her legs comfortably over his. He rested one hand on her thigh, using the other to restart the stream. “Ready?” 

She nodded, and all of a sudden they were back online. 

“Hi, chat.” Lando smiled, laughing as the comments started pouring in. “I’ve been meaning to introduce you to someone. This is my girlfriend, y/n.” 

“Hi, everyone,” y/n said, sporting a smile to match her boyfriend’s. “How are you doing?” 

“Finally.” Max let out a sigh, clicking his camera back on. 

“Thanks for covering for us, Max.” The trio sat and talked for a little bit, y/n answering questions for her from the chat that Lando pointed out every once in a while. They eventually turned the game back on, y/n holding her own and often outranking Max and Lando. In the midst of waiting for a new game to load, Lando wrapped an arm around her waist, squeezing her side. 

“I’m so glad I get to show you off now.”

@landonorris: kiss me more 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

@y/nl/n: cat’s out of the bag 🤭

[scene-iii]

OKAY WAIT. (i only have a loose idea of the tnbc event thanks to translations BUT WHAT IF)

Skully is one of the few members of Ramshackle Dorm, & during a trip to Foothill Town, he stumbles across the Nightmare Before Christmas book. He's sucked in and meets the NRC students. The story plays out and he's sent back to his time, centuries before any of his new friends are born.

He doesn't know this, of course, having forgotten everything. But there's this feeling of want in his chest, not only for a grand Halloween (a day full of life for the dead, much different from his previous ideals) but also for a friend.

He's always longed for friends, but why does his heart ache like he just lost one?

It takes some time, maybe a few weeks, as he tries to decipher his thoughts and feelings to figure out what's wrong. He spends most of his time planning the perfect Halloween to bring the holiday back onto the calendar; something more inviting, something that'll spread the joy he's recently begun to feel about the holiday.

"What gets people up and running? Hm... Perhaps music? Haunting and jaunty melodies would suffice... Why not dance as well...?!"

"Oh, I do adore a pitch-black pallet, but... There's no harm in adding color, right? It's all the rage these days anyways... Perhaps orange, to match pumpkins would be a good start?"

He's not quite sure where these ideas came from, but the ghosts of Ramshackle seem enthusiastic when he shares his thoughts. He has no one else to listen to his plans, and decides, what's the harm with talking to the ghosts? (The ghosts are pleasantly surprised at Skully's change of heart, and will do all they can to encourage this new path.)

Eventually, Skully begins to remember bits and pieces of his time in the book ("I could never forget an encounter with the lovely Jack-sama!" He says. Really, it's the idea of the friends he made that claw the event to the front of his mind).

Most of all, he remembers a magicless human. Oh, how sweet they were, even when he made some rash decisions. Among all the boys in his tale, the beast tamer was his closest companion—even if it were only for a little while.

He recounts the adventure in the book as best he can to the ghosts, seeing as no one else could believe him. A magical book that takes you far away? Who ever heard of that? The ghosts hang on his every word, laughing and gasping at the wonderous characters in Skully's story.

Halloween is a hit at NRC, and once he graduates, Skully decides to share Halloween with the rest of the world. The ghosts wave their old friend goodbye and safe travels, watching him part with spectral tears in their eyes.

The years pass, with Skully now departing from this world, and Ramshackle has fallen into ruin.

Until one day, a magicless beast tamer arrives in Twisted Wonderland, and is sent to live in Ramshackle.

The ghosts are overjoyed at having company after so long, but they can't help but be excited for a different reason.

After all, the King of Halloween's dearest friend has finally appeared.

[hiiikiko]

𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕖’𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕕𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕞

ellie w. x reader | tlou m.list

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

[a/n: please take this for now bc im too lazy to write]

𖥸 ellie’s bedroom smells like pine, her cologne, cotton, and a little bit of weed

𖥸 her room is a little messy but not in a ‘clothes on the floor, open food, or trash all over the floor’ type of way but it’s just cluttered, there’s balled up notebook paper littered around her trashcan, a undumped ash tray by her window, clothes strewn all over her bed, and stacks of paper of various origins, her bed is rarely ever made (she only makes it when she knows you’re coming over)

𖥸 her walls are covered with posters of bands, astronauts, planets, and superheroes, next to the posters are pictures of you, jesse, dina, and joel

𖥸 ellie is a nerd, there’s no denying it, so she has multiple figurines of her favourite superheroes, anime characters, and video game characters

𖥸 she also has models of various spaceships, figurines that she and joel had spent hours on

𖥸 she gets a little embarrassed about her figurines when you come over, trying to divert your attention but once she realizes you don’t care if she’s a nerd, she’ll tell you the story of each character and tell you about how her and joel had stayed up one night to finish a model of a spaceship and when they were so close to finishing, they realized they had no glue and left to the nearest gas station at 3 in the morning to find a tube of krazy glue

𖥸 her guitar rests in a corner of her room next to her music collection, she has vinyl, cassette, and cds (she sometimes buy an album in all three because she likes to compare the listening experience)

𖥸 she is very proud of her collection, showing it off to you as much as possible and MAYBE even letting you borrow some (she thoroughly inspects them every time you bring them back)

𖥸 shes even made you cds but she’s too shy to give them to you so for now, they sit in a pile behind her display until she’ll eventually work up the nerve to give them to you

𖥸 her closet is completely packed with flannels, band tees, and her never ending collection of converse

𖥸 a lot of her clothes were actually hand me downs from when joel was a teenager

𖥸 her clothes smell like her, cologne, weed, ink, and smoke, it’s a soothing scent

𖥸 whenever she knows you’re coming over, she grabs all the clothes on her bed and shoves them into her closet, praying you won’t look in there

𖥸 her desk is littered with more crumpled up pieces of paper, little dinosaur figurines from the time she and joel went to a museum, doodles, and notebooks full of notes about space, science, and you

𖥸 her desk is almost like a visual representation of her mind, messy, cluttered, artistic, and nerdy

𖥸 she’s a collector! we all know this, under her bed she has countless boxes of ‘stuff’

𖥸 she has a box full of comic books and trading cards

𖥸 a box full of pins of space things, superhero’s, video games, etc etc (she changes the pins on her backpack every week, she is ESTATIC when you notice)

𖥸 she also has a box of stuff you gave her (notes, doodles, pics, bracelets, etc) she’d never admit this to anyone because she’s scared they’ll think of it as “creepy”

[buckets-and-trees]

Welcome Home, Pumpkin [sugar]

Characters/Pairings: Lloyd Hansen x curvy Female!Reader Word Count: 2k Summary: Bad ethics. Zero impulse control. This is what everyone says about him. What will it mean for you tonight?

Content/Warnings: pregnancy talk, use of pet name "Pumpkin," established relationship, explicit smut (vaginal intercourse, slight overstimulation, fingering, marking/biting), dacryphilia, dirty talk

Notes: This is one of three in a set of short stories with Lloyd served three ways - soft, soft!dark, and dark. The three will feature the same setting, overlapping themes, shared thoughts, and bits of dialogue. Sugar is the soft version. Also, this is the first time I've written something significant for just Lloyd - I've had him in a multi-character piece and some thots/drabbles, but *takes deep breath* first solo project for him from me! Thank you @stargazingfangirl18 for holding my hand periodically throughout this!

sugar pumpkin | spiced pumpkin | smashed pumpkin

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You shut the door behind you and sigh, happy to be home after a long day - a long week, really. 

You kick off your shoes, drop your bag, and turn on some music before padding down the hallway to your bedroom, more than ready to change from your more professional clothes to something comfy to lounge in the rest of the evening. 

You jump when a deep, serious voice you aren’t expecting says, “Welcome home, Pumpkin.”

Your heart rockets into your throat, hand flying to your chest. “Lloyd Hansen!”

He chuckles, rising from the spot he’d been perched on the edge of the bed. 

“You’re not supposed to be here!” 

He makes a show of bowing slightly, “And yet, here I am.”

You hesitate in the doorway, studying the face of the man you are so familiar with. The steel blue eyes, the sharp jawline, the ridiculous mustache you’ve come to love. 

You can sense he’s eager, impatient, but he will wait for you to come to him. 

As if you’ve been anything but drawn to this man since the day you two first crossed paths. He was dangerous and certainly not suited for you. Yet that had changed, little by little, until you couldn’t imagine living your life without this fierce man folded into every part of it, and every part of your heart. 

“Are you going to tell me what you’re keeping from me?” he asks, lifting his chin just a fraction. 

And oh that look does something to you - the delicious swoop in your stomach that always makes you weak and eager for him. 

Slowly, you take measured steps toward him, biting your lip. 

How will he react? 

It’s been the question on your mind all week. 

“Pumpkin?” he presses, tone low, calculated. 

Two final steps to bring you nearly toe to toe with him and you reach for his hand. 

“There’s a little pumpkin on the way,” 

Lloyd opens and then closes his mouth. 

You can hear the beats of one of your favorite songs drifting to you down the hallway from the kitchen, and your heart races in anticipation, needing him to say something. 

You scrunch your nose. “Have I finally rendered you speechless?” you laugh, but there’s a nervous edge to it.

You’ve only spoken about children once, and it was fast, but that was then and hypothetically, and this was now and reality.   

Lloyd sits back on the bed, tugging you forward to stand between his legs. He brings each of his large hands to your hips, then slowly rubs up and down your sides, eyes focusing on your stomach. 

“I knew it,” he whispers. 

You place your hands gently on his broad shoulders. You leave the left one there, but your right hand smoothes over the tightly corded muscles, then up his neck until you’re cupping his jaw, encouraging him to look up at you. 

“Fuck. I wasn’t made to be a good father,” he says. 

You brush your fingers over his forehead. You’re the only one who gives him softness. Sometimes he leans into your touch, but this isn’t one of those times. His mind is too locked into this revelation. 

You tip your head down and press a kiss to his lips. He does kiss you back, and his hands squeeze your waist. 

“You weren’t made to be a good husband either,” you say, pulling back for a moment, looking directly in his eyes, “but you’re the husband I want.”

In one swift motion, Lloyd flips you around and has you on the bed pinned beneath him, body pressing into yours. He growls into your mouth as he claims you in another kiss. He props himself up slightly on one arm, and his other hand reaches to tear the front of your shirt open, rending the fabric in two. You look up at him, waiting with bated breath. 

“I’d burn down the world for you, you know that?”

“Mhmm,” you hum. Your body surges up, pelvis seeking his. “I do.”

He gives you what you want, grinding down into you, and you moan. “And fuck if I’m not already ready to burn it down for them, too,” he murmurs, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses down your chest. He pauses above your belly, tracing his fingers over your soft curves, where you’ll soon start to grow with his child.

Lloyd's touch is reverent, almost hesitant, as his fingers ghost over your skin. You've never seen him like this before - so gentle, so in awe. It makes your heart swell with love for this complicated man.

"I never thought..." he trails off, voice thick with emotion.

You card your fingers through his hair, encouraging him to continue. "Never thought what, my love?"

He looks up at you, eyes shining. "That I could have this. A family. Something pure and good."

You cup his face in your hands, drawing him up for a tender kiss.

"You deserve it," you whisper against his lips. "We deserve it."

Lloyd pulls back slightly, studying your face with an intensity that makes your breath catch. His thumb traces your cheekbone, then brushes over your bottom lip.

"I don't deserve you," he says, voice low and rough. He pulls back slightly, searching your eyes. "I've done terrible things, Pumpkin. Things that would make you run if you knew. But I'm too selfish to let you go."

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "I’ve told you before: I'm not going anywhere."

His lips crash into yours, hungry and demanding. You respond with equal fervor, arching into him as his hands roam your body, knowing every inch of it intimately after so much time spent like this, body to body, skin to skin, the rest of the world forgotten.

Lloyd breaks the kiss, leaving you breathless and wanting more. He trails his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin there. You gasp and tilt your head, giving him better access.

"Mine," he growls against your throat. "All mine."

"Yes," you breathe, fingers tangling in his hair. "Yours, Lloyd. Always yours."

His hands slide down to your hips, gripping them possessively. He pulls back to look at you, eyes dark with desire and something else - a fierce protectiveness that makes your heart race.

He yanks the clothing completely down and off your bottom half, and then he’s between your legs, cock out, and pushing his thick, blunt head inside you. You moan and clutch at his chest.

Lloyd growls, grabs your wrists, and pins them above your head in one of his giant hands.

Then he proceeds to fuck you.

Slowly.

Lloyd's pace is agonizing, each thrust deep and deliberate. You melt into him, and your eyes slip closed, but he won't allow it.

"Look at me," he demands, voice rough. He grips your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. "That's it, Pumpkin. Let me see that pretty face.”

You don’t realize you are crying until you feel Lloyd thumbing the tears away from your cheek. Your heart skips a beat as you stare into his fierce, blue eyes. Lloyd's mustache twitches as he smirks, clearly enjoying the way you’ve gotten lost in the moment.

It only seems to spur Lloyd on, his thrusts becoming harder, but not faster. Each powerful movement forces small whimpers from your lips.

"Such sweet sounds," Lloyd murmurs, his breath hot across your face. "I can’t fucking get enough of hearing you sing for me like this."

Your body trembles beneath Lloyd's, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze and the relentless rhythm of his hips. You strain against his grip on your wrists, desperate to touch him, to pull him closer.

"Please," you whimper, arching your back. "Lloyd, I need…"

He chuckles darkly, nipping at your earlobe. "What do you need, Pumpkin? Tell me."

"You," you gasp as he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside you. "All of you. Faster, harder…"

Lloyd releases your wrists, allowing you to wrap your arms around him and pull him flush against you. His muscular body covers yours completely as he picks up the pace, driving into you with renewed vigor.

"Like this?" he growls, snapping his hips forcefully.

"Yes!" you cry out, digging your nails into his back. "Oh god, yes!"

Lloyd buries his face in your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin there as he pounds into you relentlessly. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your breathless moans.

You feel the tension building within you, coiling tighter and tighter with each powerful thrust. Lloyd's breath is ragged against your neck, his muscular body moving with a primal intensity that leaves you dizzy with desire.

"That's it," he growls, voice low and gravelly. “Fucking come around my cock, Mrs. Hansen.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you arch into him, chasing your release. Lloyd shifts slightly, changing the angle, and suddenly stars explode behind your eyelids. You cry out his name as you come.

Lloyd growls in satisfaction as he feels you clench around him, your body shuddering with pleasure. He doesn't slow his pace, driving you through your orgasm and beyond. The overstimulation makes you whimper and clutch at his shoulders.

"Lloyd," you gasp, voice trembling. "I can't—"

"You can," he insists, his tone brooking no argument. "And you will. Give me another, Pumpkin."

His hand snakes between your bodies, finding your sensitive bundle of nerves. He rubs tight circles there, timing his movements with with his thrusts.

Your body responds to Lloyd's expert touch, despite your protests. The overstimulation borders on painful, but the pleasure builds again, impossibly intense. You're trembling, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as Lloyd pushes you relentlessly towards another peak.

"That's it," he growls, his voice strained with his own approaching climax. "Show me how good I make you feel."

With a keening cry, you shatter again, your body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crash over you. Lloyd's movements become erratic as he chases his own release. His fingers dig into your hips, sure to leave bruises, but you don't care. You want to be marked by him, to carry the evidence of his passion on your skin.

"Fuck," he growls, his voice strained. "You're so goddamn perfect."

With a final, powerful thrust, Lloyd buries himself deep inside you and comes with a guttural groan. You feel the warmth of his release filling you, and you cling to him, savoring the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress.

You can feel his heart thundering against your chest, but Lloyd's weight is comforting, grounding you as your own heartbeat slowly returns to normal.

As you both come down, you lace the fingers of one of your hands with his, and your other hand drops down to stroke softly up and down his back.

Finally, Lloyd lifts his head from the crook of your neck, his steel blue eyes searching your face. His expression is softer now, a tenderness there that only you ever get to see.

But still, there’s a ghost of a smirk on his face. “You make me crazy, Mrs. Hansen.”

You laugh. “Don’t you mean, ‘I love you, Mrs. Hansen?’”

Lloyd's eyes crinkle at the corners as he chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that reverberates through your body. "Isn't that what I said?" he teases, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You roll your eyes playfully, but your heart swells with affection. "I love you too, you impossible man."

He shifts, carefully rolling off you but keeping you close, tucking you against his side. His hand splays possessively over your stomach, and you can't help but smile at the gesture.

"A little pumpkin," he whispers.

“Ours,” you join your hand over his.

“Fuck,” he says, and you laugh and kiss him again.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

all Welcome Home, Pumpkin stories

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[0luv9]

forlorn || mattheo riddle

Summary: based on this request.

Beware: angst, fluff, slightly aged-up characters, Hufflepuff reader, sweet reader, she/her pronouns used, mostly in second person, jealousy, mistreatment, a little bit of blood, slightly commanding(?) and intimidating Mattheo.

Words: 7.8k (not beta read)

Note: I am sorry luv, I don't think I did justice to the request. I also apologize for taking so long. I still hope you like it, even if it's just a bit. @cat-loves-music

Mattheo Riddle, son of Voldemort, or Tom Riddle if you will—for a more humane approach. But then, there's no humanity in the way he's treated. Always an outsider, always a monster.

There is wealth to his name; after all, he is the only living heir of Salazar Slytherin. However, his blood is corrupt, shunned by the very people who kissed the steps his baby feet took. Looked down on by the blood supremacists and not accepted by the other side, the "good side."

Even he was tired of the same sob story. He doesn't even need to introduce himself; they already have a preconceived image of him in their minds. He could try to fix his image in an ideal world, but even then, what would he say?

'Hello, everyone, I'm Mattheo Riddle, son of the man who once threatened your lives. Please welcome me with warm hands.'

Too cliché? Yes, but it's true and the only truth he knew.

Riddle didn't even know why the name Riddle was cursed and didn't know what his father did that made everyone's hate transcend generations. What made their hatred justified and his hate a crime? He didn't know until it was too late.

Mattheo was raised by the only living relative of his, his mother's aunt—the one who died recently. The one who kept all this hidden away from him hid all the Hogwarts' letters, raised him like her own, and protected him until her last breath. She loved him but all within the vicinity of the manor. He didn't know the world that existed beyond those walls.

He knew about the world outside only through the books she'd let him read. He thought it would feel liberating to step off the lavish floors onto the rich earth. It was everything but that.

"But Nona, why can't I go outside?" he remembers asking that silly question when he was about nine. What he wouldn't do to get that naivety back.

"Because, my dear, there are people out there who wouldn't like you. There are bad people outside ready to punish you," he also remembers crying when she told him that. He didn't understand why people would hate him. He just wanted to try the chocolate frogs he read about.

He just wanted to talk to all the different animals out there, the same way he could talk to the garden snakes.

"But I didn't do anything wrong, Nona. Tell them that I'm a good boy. I can even give them some of my toys. Will they like me then?" If only it were that easy. His Nona cried for the first time in front of him then, looking at all the toys he had set onto her lap, looking at her with teary eyes, pleading, "I didn't do anything wrong, Nona, I promise."

Mattheo didn't understand her tears back then, but now as he stands all alone, those same tears fall out his eyes. It's useless. "They'll know that someday, moon pie. You aren't wrong. They'll know." They'll know? What a fucking joke.

Mattheo tries to enjoy the view in front of him, you know. But how can he? When his batchmates are out there partying and enjoying life, he's been a lone wolf all his life. Yet in moments like this, he seems to forget his old ways of existing.

There's not much he can do anyway; he's not needed anywhere. In fact, they all want him gone. Finding beauty in small things is hard when misery clings to him. There's self-loathing in the way he thinks about the night and himself. There's nothing positive he can say.

You'd think that he must've gotten used to it all by now. No, he hasn't; it only got worse. At least little Mattheo held hope that people would understand someday or the other. Every bit of hope was destroyed by the very people who would've feared him had his father been alive. In moments like this, he wished he could see the man, live as the son they paint him as.

He'd have someone to lean onto then, someone to call his own. At least his father would've loved him. But this last bit of consolidation too was stolen away from him when he got to know that he was a backup plan for his father. Mattheo Riddle was not supposed to exist. His father wanted to live on forever; he was the last option the so-called Dark Lord had, to produce an heir and have them further his cause, and control his life as Tom lived on his last lifeline.

But all of it died with him. Mattheo promised himself that he would never be the man they all expected him to be, the man they wanted to point fingers at. So, he stayed in line. But then he thinks, sometimes, maybe, what if—you know?

He simply stares up at the brightly lit sky, it's a shame that he's the only one out there to appreciate the scenic beauty because he's physically and mentally incapable of appreciating anything, you can't blame him now, can you?

Cold breeze in mid-August, how fucking ridiculous just like this life of his, so unlike his peers, who were out there partying and having the time of their lives, the music vibrating through the walls was like salt on wounds. He'd like to drink a few and chat with his friends but then again, he hasn't got any. And it's the bitter truth that he's not welcome there, he'd be greeted with nasty looks if he tried to enter any such party, they'd all glance his way like the ominous thing he is. It's times like this when he really contemplates it.

Mattheo looks down from the height he's on, no one would care anyway, the fall will kill him, might just give it an actual try unlike those previous attempts- he's been a coward all his life, never ready to face the extremes of life but he has nothing to protect at the moment, he's come far too long, life was never going to be worth it.

He climbs over the railing onto the brick ledge, sitting down for a moment, to take it all in for the last time ever. Mattheo remembers all the whispers that followed him, the suspicious looks passed along the way, those words of disdain- at the same time the thoughts of a happy life enter his mind, it all feels unattainable, in fact, he's so far gone he can't even picture joy, all he sees is bright colours when he thinks of a happy life.

Mattheo had desperately sought relief all his life, but the pain only worsened with time, it's only reasonable to want to end this feeling of hopelessness. The weight of his family's legacy feels heavy on his shoulders. He slouches over and looks down once again, sighing as his eyes shift to the ring on his finger, the other Gaunt ring, he slowly removes it- a pathetic heir he is, he doesn't deserve it, couldn't live up to the name, disappointing both sides of the world.

Maybe they should have destroyed this along with his father's ring but apparently, his dear sweet Nona thought he could change their fate, change the course of history, change the Gaunt legacy for the better, fuck- he couldn't even try and change people's perception about him. Even in this sense, he's nothing like his predecessors, incapable of leaving a mark, of changing the world, be it for the better or the worse. He's just fucking worthless- he fiddles with the ring as he shifts a bit closer to the edge, ready to let go of it.

"Nice ring," he turns around startled, "Mattheo, isn't it?" not Riddle? He hadn't heard his own name in a long time, no one had directly addressed him in years let alone called him by his first name. It all feels foreign, he simply nods not knowing what to say. "Do you mind if I join you?" you don't wait for a response though and carefully bend and climb through the gaps between the two rails, settling down beside him. "Hi, I'm-" he doesn't hear it, he's too focused on your face, you were dolled up, for the party he thinks, but then why are you here of all places? Was this some kind of prank? He steals a glance back at the entrance and the seemingly empty hallway, to see if anyone is waiting for a reaction.

"You know you shouldn't sit so close to the edge, you might fall down," you grab his forearm urging him to move back, your hand feels warm on his skin, it feels unnatural, his hands are always cold. Even though it's on him for a couple of seconds he can't help the multiple emotions going on about in his mind and before he can sort them out, his mouth decides to act on its own, "Why aren't you at the party?" "Oh-" you look disappointed, and he apologises right away, not wanting to upset the only person who had the decency to talk to him, "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked," he's quick to defend himself, it's a natural response after all but you only seemed amused, "No, it quite alright, I was just surprised by your voice-" "Is it that bad?" "Gosh no! It's just not what I expected, quite rough, it's nice," you are quick to shut him up, "And about your question, I am annoyed at my friends forcing me to try more drinks and all, I just came up here to relax."

"I can leave if you'd like," you add on as an afterthought, but you really didn't want to go, it was the only place with some peace, unlike the loud corridors and dorms, where you were mad at your friends and were in no mood for a party. "No, it's quite alright, I was just surprised," he tries to lighten the mood, repeating your words jokingly, it works, you laugh and properly look at him instead of the waters ahead.

"Haha so funny," you say in a monotonous voice, trying to act like you didn't just laugh but you can't contain your smile, and he finds it quite beautiful. You look down at the ring between the two of you, "it's a beautiful ring I must say," You compliment it again since he hadn't acknowledged it before. Mattheo thanked you quietly trying to think of a response that might not make you run away from him.

It's been only a few minutes and you've said more nice things to him than he has ever heard in his whole life, it's quite ridiculous when he thinks about it, seemingly you find it quite easy to compliment him. He stays quiet not knowing how to take a compliment, but you don't let the silence continue, you look around trying to find something to talk about and soon enough you start talking and he's glad, "You know about those plants right there?" you point to the shrubs at some distance from the castle walls. Mattheo shakes his head unable to recall if he had seen them before. "It's alright but now that you know, you have something to look forward to this upcoming month!" you smile yet again, cheerful that you have something to share.

"What's special about them?" "It's not the plant itself but the fireflies that live there!" Mattheo tries hard to keep up with your energy and pace, "Why aren't they out now? They aren't migratory, are they?" "That's what makes it special unlike fireflies that are present throughout the summer, these ones light up only for the last week of August," "I'll look forward to it," "You should! I missed it last year and then everyone thought I was lying when I mentioned it." Mattheo frowns, "No one knows about them? Not even the professors?" "The professors would know but it wasn't that serious that I'd take it up to them," Mattheo finds it difficult to relate, he always would let everyone know that he was in the right if the facts favour him because no way in hell would he let anyone see him in the wrong light, he couldn't bear to be in the wrong.

And it slips out his mouth, "I would've argued till they knew I was right," "I don't like arguing though, reminds me of my parents, they parted ways because they argued a lot, so I try to avoid it myself," his lips purse trying to think of an appropriate response, "Anyway, you are in Slytherin right?" it wasn't a question, you just knew, "I'm in Hufflepuff, nice to meet you!" you turn towards him and extend your hand with a smile, he can't help but mirror your smile, "Nice to meet you indeed." Your hand feels soft in his, he was finding it hard to let go but you pull your hand back almost instantly- remembering something, "OH right I forgot, do you like chocolates?" Mattheo was quite taken aback by your energetic self, it was infectious, "Of course you do, it's a silly question, I mean who doesn't like chocolate-" you stop midway and fix him with a scrutinising look, "Unless you are some heartless monster-" "Nah I like chocolate alright," "Good good."

You fish through your jacket's pocket and pull out two chocolate bars, "It's muggle chocolate," you place one in his hand, "Muggle? I've never had muggle candy," Mattheo inspects the small sweet in his hand, "You are missing out then!" you chuckle as you take the wrapper off yours, "I'll eat it tomorrow, thank you," He pockets it and looks ahead with a small smile, tonight's beautiful now that he looks at it.

"You are a muggle born then?" Mattheo can't help but want to know more, because how dare his fucking father go after your lot, "Yep, I was surprised you know? To receive the letter, I thought it was some prank but of course, after a few days I realised how real it was, couldn't have been happier, to be away from home." It's funny because all Mattheo wants to do is go back to the gloomy old mansion and here you were saying the opposite, the stark difference between the two of you was obvious to him.

You ramble on and he listens, it's nothing but enjoyable to listen to mundane stories being narrated with such interest, he finds himself smiling a bit too much, to the point where his face hurts but he doesn't care because you are quite the lovely company to be around.

Muggle-born, the same year as him, Hufflepuff, living with your mom- it's not the best back home he gathers that much. You were angry at your friends and were going to hold a grudge if they didn't apologise. He learned a lot about you in that one hour and learned a few things about him as well, he didn't know he had jokes like that OR you were just too kind to laugh at his bad quips, whatever it was he was grateful because you didn't make him feel bad or like a burden. Mattheo was glad that you were the talkative one and that you didn't expect him to share anything if he wasn't comfortable, also the fact that he didn't want to send you running away by talking more about himself.

He admires the fond smile you wear when you talk, the stars reflect a bit too brightly in your eyes, and he inhales breathing in your scent, it's surreal, the moment. Mattheo didn't quite think properly until you left, wishing him a good night, "it was nice spending time with you, Mattheo!" He wonders if you knew how much it meant to him.

...

He finds out your name the next day and sees you everywhere, it's annoying because he was tired since he couldn't sleep thinking all night about you and now he has to see your face again. Now that he knows you, he can't seem to avoid you, earlier it was easy to be blind but now, everything else seems like a blind spot but you. Or maybe it's that his head is not hanging low, avoiding looking up at people.

Mattheo got over the irritation rather quickly, discreetly looking at you, eyes following every movement of yours. But you don't look at him once, he was just like any other guy to you, the realisation both hurts and feels nice, knowing that you don't demonise him but also the fact that he's no one special either. And maybe, he can live with that.

He notices the large number of people you keep around, you are never alone, always surrounded by a group and you are always the one talking, you are clearly popular. How had he not noticed you before? But then again he knew no one in the school apart from the professors, he never tried to get to know anyone because of course his fate wouldn't allow that.

Mattheo seeks out the solace of the library to keep you out of his mind for a while but the plan doesn't seem to work when he finds the chocolate you gave him in his bag. He simply sighs, knowing that there is no escape, unwarps the sweet and pops it into his mouth, shutting his eyes, and recalls your sweet smile. Warmth takes over his body, it feels nice like this, he has to talk to you once again because that can't be the only interaction he has with you, not when it's all he can think about. He breathes out slowly, staring down at the wrapper and mindlessly reading the information on the back, his jaw tightens as he realizes his stupid pathetic feelings. Mattheo puts the wrapper in his quill case and tries to study with a head full of you.

...

Okay, now it was really starting to bother him, he practically couldn't keep his eyes off you, it's like a spell had charmed him in. He wasn't even trying to be discreet at this point, he downright stared at you from a distance, it was creepy, he was aware of that but he couldn't bring himself to give a damn. Mattheo doesn't like this new feeling you've instilled in him, it's sweet and it's fucking uncomfortable. He finds it extremely difficult to get rid of you from his thoughts, so he gives up on trying and lets his mind go on autopilot.

The way you talked to him without any judgement in your eyes that day, the images of you repeated over and over again in his mind. Even when he sees you with someone else he can't help but think you are in front of him telling him a story, with those animated expressions of yours, but then seconds later he comes to his senses and sees the smile that's not directed at him, the one you gave to everyone, him too. He thinks it was your pity, that made you talk to him. He didn't feel like he was burdening you then but now when he thinks of approaching you, he knows he'd be burdening you. Your life looks no different, every day is full of joy, and you aren't smiling any less.

Why would you talk to him of all people? Perhaps, you only talked to him that day because you needed a change of scenery and not because you wanted to, he's wrong in thinking that but he's also deluded. It's the only way he keeps himself at peace, to not see meaning in your words, to not long for your company.

But he's a Riddle after all, some things just run in your blood, he has his eyes set on you and he finds it difficult to look away. New dream of his, and he'd like to have it, no matter how unattainable it feels. Yet he hasn't got a clue, it's all too new, and he doesn't know what to do, he'd like to have a plan but what would the plan even say? Go and talk to her? Yeah, like he's about to embarrass himself in front of her.

...

Your eyes stretch at the sight of him sitting in the library, alone but not in some deserted corner, he had claimed the whole couch in the centre of the room, sitting right in the middle, reading a book leaning back, a frown on his face. He looked intimidating, and to be honest, you were scared of him, the little beer in you that night had given you the courage to approach him, maybe your fate was too kind to let you find him that night but now your nerves were on fire.

It was no secret to you that he had been staring at you the past couple of weeks, but you couldn't understand the look on his face, his jaw was always clenched, eyes narrowed, and not a hint of emotion on his face. Was he mad at you? Was he the planning on-

No. You didn't like to think about it, you didn't want him to be the man they paint him as, he's just a boy, your age, maybe that's another reason why you hadn't approached him. Staying away because you were scared that they'd be right, you'd rather delve into what ifs than actually be heartbroken, your imagination brought you bliss.

But would it really be your mind if it would let you just forget it? You think and think, getting worked up over every little interaction you've had with him. How could he be evil? He talked to you so nicely the other day, even- even though you were a muggle-born, a mud blood. But when you see how he looks at you, you can't help but feel scared.

It really was an intimidating sight, your courage wore thin but you had made up your mind. You approach him cautiously, as you greet him, you start feeling jittery and flushed, "Hey Mattheo."

Mattheo jerked his head up as he heard your voice, surprised, caught off guard in fact, he didn't trust his words just yet so he simply nodded at you, acknowledging your presence, closing the book and setting it aside, all his attention on you. "I came here to study and noticed you," you look around bashfully before continuing, "I just wanted to ask you if you liked the chocolate I gave you the other day, you know the one with dark brown wrapper-" "Yeah I did," He stops you from rambling on, not that he had any problem with it but you clearly seemed nervous, he just wanted to ease your nerves, "Right so-" you quickly pull out a small pack of the chocolate from your sling bag placing it beside him, straightening up, "I'll go then, enjoy-" you are quick to turn away from him, cursing yourself in your mind, blaming yourself for making things more awkward than they already were.

Mattheo stops you in your tracks as he calls you by your name, you turn around, and he speaks in that cold voice of his, "You said you were here to study right?" you nod timidly, clutching onto the straps of your bag, he leans back and with a flick of his wrist, a table and chair are summoned in front of him, "then study," he motions to the chair opposite of him.

You were quite taken aback, you stood there for a bit before actually registering his words, and you quietly sat down, you didn't have it in you to disobey him, he was Mattheo Riddle for fucks sake, he looked and sounded like someone who doesn't take no for an answer.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he watched you carefully sit down, looking down, not meeting his gaze, he couldn't believe it, you obliged his wishes? Mattheo leaned back fully, arms folding as he watched you, brown eyes capturing each detail, amusement crawled over his face as he watched you pull out multiple books all at once, various colourful stationery items sprawled out all over the table. You looked pretty like this, stray strands of hair framing your face, lips pursed in concentration. He knew how creepy he was being, so he opened his book again and tried to read but he simply couldn't not when you were sitting in front of him, he relished your presence and this was so unlike the others, every time he had looked at you- you had been surrounded by people, so it was a sight to behold, only for him to admire. So he did, in secret, glancing up at you, every few seconds.

It's been two hours and not once did he get bored of looking at you, a small smile lingered on his face as you closed your books and looked up at him, "How's that book?" you nod towards the book in his hand- the one he was supposed to be reading, "Good, good" he bites the inside of cheek as he lies through his teeth, "Got everything done?" he sets his book aside, fixing you with a soft stare, "Yes, I just wanted to revise a bit, I forget stuff easily if I don't revise regularly," you tilt your head a bit, his eyes were much softer now, and it made your heart flutter a bit, feeling a lot more comfortable than before, so you do what you usually do when you are comfortable- talk.

"By the way, did you study for the upcoming herbology test?" And before he could answer, you pulled out a piece of paper from your bag, "This is like the holy grail, a senior gave it to me last year, it has all the specifics, of recognising plants and how to make generalised guesses about their uses-" you speak in a hushed voice, slightly leaning over the table, eyes wide as you shared your little secret, "you can have it, I have it memorised haha" You bless him with that pretty smile of yours, pushing the paper towards him, you don't let him refuse the offer and start talking about something else, he gives you a small smile, and it makes your insides turn into mush, you bite your lip trying to contain your smile, eyes shy as you start fiddling with your hands on your lap.

You talked for hours, he was much more open this time, and the conversation flowed smoothly between the two of you, it was you who mostly did the talking but he didn't seem to mind he looked more than pleased, he didn't like talking much, it seemed, so you filled in the gaps, made it look so effortless like it was easy talking to him, maybe it was easy for you but to him, it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside. You two stopped only when the librarian came in and told you it was curfew time, your eyes widened as you turned to look back at him, an amused smile on your face, both of you got up, walking beside each other, not uttering a word till you were out of the librarian's stern gaze.

"I made you miss dinner-" your eyes widened further as soon as the two of you got out, stepping into the empty hallway, "it's alright, I don't mind," you playfully rolled your eyes at him, he chuckled at your antics, "yeah sure, but your stomach would, but- we can sneak into the kitchens, you know, sneak some food out," you wiggle your eyebrows at him with a sheepish grin on your face, he scoffs in disbelief, a fond smile gracing his face, "something tells me, this isn't your first time sneaking around."

"No, it's not," you chuckle a bit before continuing, "So, are you coming or not?" you purse your lips, looking up at him with doe eyes and he questions your motives right then because there's no way you didn't have a clue about what you were doing, "would be an idiot to say no," he muttered under his breath shaking his head, "I didn't catch that-", "Yes, I am."

You give him a pleased smile, you looked so happy at that moment, he was rooted in his position as you started walking ahead of him, he had to look away to catch his breath, "Merlin" he exhaled, a hand reaching over to his chest to soothe his loud thumping heart, and in that moment he knew he was a goner.

"Mattheo-?" you turned around since you didn't hear him walk with you but soon he rushed to your side the moment you looked back, you gave him another smile as he walked beside you, he looked straight ahead then, you needed to stop doing that because no fucking way- would he be able to let go of you.

You lead him to the kitchen, both of you cautious, well just you- he was having the time of his life, getting a detention would be worth it, just a small price to pay. Mattheo repeatedly stole glances here and there, the moment you entered the kitchen, you grabbed his arm and pulled his painfully slow self in, "gosh- you sure do walk slow," you glare at him, but there's no malice in your eyes, instead they are just amused, you roll your eyes when he just shrugs in response, moving over to the tables. Mattheo just looked at you with fond eyes, he was just trying to buy more time with you by walking slowly and he didn't feel one bit guilty about it, he felt a bit too proud. 

You sigh dramatically before returning to him with a small tray in your hands, "I didn't find anything else, apart from these blueberry muffins," your eyes wander around once more trying to see if you missed something, "usually there's still stuff left, that's weird- oh well, at least we have these," you give him a small defeated smile, setting the tray on the table, shrugging as you felt that muffins weren't worth the effort of sneaking around and that you only troubled him further. Mattheo saw through you and he hated that you were feeling that way, "didn't I mention this to you? I love muffins, especially the blueberry ones." he gave you a small smile, picking up the muffin, taking a bite, "yeah, that's good, way better than the dry vegetable and chicken pies they make." He didn't look at you as he said that, but you smiled, realising what he was trying to do, you wanted to cry, why was he being so considerate? You were now beginning to go down a spiral, of all the times you thought of him in the wrong light, how dare you even think like that? 

Mattheo caught you staring and it was hard for him to control the heat that rose to his cheeks, he cleared his throat, "What? You don't like these? Well, guess they are all for me-" he teased, taking the tray in his hand and started walking away, "Hey! No-" you rushed after him with an amused smile, "I want one too," and the tray was shoved back into your hands, "better not eat all of them, yeah?" he gave you a small cheeky wink, leaning against the table, finishing the muffin in his hand. 

Mattheo offered to walk you back to your dorm, he didn't have to insist much, after all, you wanted to spend time with him too, you easily agreed after a couple of tries. You two walked in comfortable silence, as you neared the Hufflepuff dormitory, you were thinking about how you'd part ways, overthinking about what would be appropriate and in the mix of it, you just gave him an awkward side hug, squeezing his arm a bit before mumbling a quick "goodnight" and rushing in. 

He couldn't believe his eyes, were you blushing? No way, he must be imagining things. Mattheo could still feel your warm touch lingering on his side, the scene playing over and over again in his mind, he wanted to scream out of excitement- he was getting cuteness aggression, had to be it, his fists clenched at his side as he stared at the door, for god knows how long, if he could- he would've squeezed you into a bone-crushing hug, but you were quick, left him speechless. 

He walked back to the Slytherin dorm without any trouble, he closed the door behind himself and leaned back against it, he was pretty sure his skin was burning with all the warmth that was flowing through his veins. Merlin, he was embarrassing! Mattheo sighed contently, a big smile on his face as he replayed the whole day, your smile- 

...

The next few days, you guys didn't talk at all, he was back to staring and this time, when you did catch him in the act, instead of pretending you didn't see him, you gave him a knowing smile and a wave. Lingering looks, and subtle greetings, were sweet, Mattheo was now on a new high, he couldn't get enough. But for some reason, he maintained his distance, he stuck to looking at you from afar, it felt comfortable this way, not wanting to taint your reputation by talking to you in front of others, he'd talk to you if it was only you but you were never alone. 

Mattheo starts seeing life for what it is, when he looks at the trees outside, the castle in its entirety, he feels like he is seeing it for the first time. How had he missed this? He finds himself back at the astronomy tower, he looks at the lake ahead, it was a sight to behold, and he is starting to appreciate the view, these days he didn't care about much, you were all he could think about and you were more than pleasant, it was as if the grey lens of his life was replaced with a coloured one, and it would be foolish to credit anyone else but you for it, and he was fucking grateful for it. The reason he was here was, that it was the end of August, and the fireflies you so damn wished to see would be out tonight, he came here just in the hope that he'll get to see you alone. 

He was zoning out when some movement near the edge of the lake caught his eye, it was you- with a few of your friends, his smile faltered the moment he saw some blonde Hufflepuff dude pull you to his side, slinging a hand over your shoulder, you all walked towards the shrubs and didn't have to wait long before the fireflies lit up and started raising above the shrubs. He was about to leave, he was mad for some reason, really pissed- but then he took another look at you. You were standing a bit behind your friends, who had all their attention on the flies ahead, you seemed sad, looking down, messing with the soil beneath your shoe, hands in your jacket. Mattheo could make out the pout on your face, the deflated shoulders, you then turned to look right where he was, and he felt his breath catch in his throat.

Your posture straightened immediately, the pretty smile returning to your face as you looked up at the astronomy tower balcony, having spotted him, you waved at him. Mattheo nodded, forearms on the railing as he leaned forward, a smile gracing his features, the anger leaving him. You excitedly pointed at the sky, and he nodded, you turned back around when your friend called you and he couldn't look away, he was staring at you till you left, Mattheo started feeling the warmth creep up to him when he saw you making an effort to steal back glances at him. He felt seen, fucking special- 

...

Mattheo still hadn't talked to you, he couldn't catch you alone really, it was starting to get to him, he longed to hear your voice, hear you talk to him- and yet, he didn't have it in him to approach you in front of others, it would ruin you, you thrived in the company of others, he couldn't snatch that away from you. Maybe if he was a bit more selfish, he'd do it, snatch you away from others, have you all to himself but he wasn't about that life, it was something his father would do, he's sure of it, go after what he wants, not caring what others would think- 

Mattheo feels like passing out when you deliberately look at him just to give him a shy smile, a flushed look on your face. He walks away because he cannot handle looking at you, the urge is too strong, to just take you into his arms, he walks out to the empty hallway, a hand over his chest- it had become a subconscious habit of his, whenever you gave him that smile, the one that felt like it was just reserved for him, yeah that one, he felt like he was in heaven, you sent his heart rate through the roof when you did that, it borderline hurt him since he couldn't do much to satiate this feeling. 

The longing was etched into his eyes when he looked at you, one thing he realised was, that when he had his head up, no one dared to look his way, he was enjoying that power for some reason, it filled his veins with something dark, he liked seeing people look down instead of him looking down, it felt fucking nice, and it felt even better when the only person that did look at him, was you. People averted their eyes when he entered the room, choosing to ignore his presence but the fear was very much evident, so he knew they didn't see him staring at you but at this point, he really couldn't bring himself to make an active effort to look away even if someone noticed. 

It was no lie, that Mattheo wasn't up to date with all the gossip and news, he just lived life passively but now that he was out there more, he couldn't help but hear the words that fell onto his ears, Yule Ball, huh. WAIT- ball dance? That meant having a date, who were you going with? Fuck his mind was rambling shit to him, he could not let someone else take you to a fucking dance as their date, no, he wouldn't let that happen. He had to get to you before someone else did, it was nighttime, and tomorrow's the weekend, approaching you will be the first thing he'll do after he wakes up, he has to plan shit out, you know, make it special and heartfelt, you deserved nothing less.

But his heart nearly broke when he overheard two Slytherin guys talking about you. The way one of them talked about you made his blood boil, his jaw clenched tight, nails drawing blood from his palms as they dug into his coarse skin, "I told you not to ask her out, plenty of guys tried and guess what? She rejected them all." the guy who was being talked to only scoffed angrily, "She's a fucking slut, that's what she is, leading people on-" the other boy just stopped him and Mattheo exhaled, a bit relieved because if it wasn't for him, Mattheo would've smacked the guy and pushed him to the fucking wall, "dude, come on, that's not true, all she did was smile at you when you gave her your seat, she's a nice girl," these guys were in the fifth year, he recognised that much, "sure, whatever," the guy walked away to his room, making sure to loudly slam the door behind him. 

Mattheo then gets up and walks towards the guy left behind, the one who stood up for you, when he stands in front of him, he sees the dude cower into the seat, Mattheo tries to speak in a polite voice but the anger is still radiating off him, his irritated stare didn't help either, "she doesn't have a date, yeah?" his hands were behind his back, over one another, the blood still fresh, "who-o?" the guy stutters out, looking around for help but no one was there- "You know who," he fixes him with a glare, before uttering your name out loud, "no no, she doesn't, rejected them all." Mattheo then nods at him and leans back, then finally he walks back to his room, allowing the guy to catch his breath. 

Mattheo feels relief wash over him as he lets the information sink in, okay good, you didn't have a date but then again, why were you rejecting them all? What if you reject him as well? Yeah, he couldn't handle that wound, he'd fucking die, he contemplates whether he should ask you or not but he's done fucking waiting, waiting for his fate to fuck things over, if things are going to be fucked, he'll be the one to do it. 

...

Mattheo puts on a black shirt and black pants, not caring to tuck his shirt in, the cold metal ring stings him as he puts it on, the feeling is grounding, he's doing something his dad would've done and for some reason that doesn't feel half as bad, he feels like himself, it was like something had possessed him, the confidence was unwavering, even as he stepped out into the crowded hallway, hands in his pockets, looking ahead, people parted, giving him space and Merlin, did that feel fucking powerful. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows as he approached the room you'd be in, you always were there on the weekends, with your friends and he didn't think before he stepped into the room, heads turning towards him in shock, even yours but the shock on your face was soon replaced with a smile, quietly waving at him and that right there, fed right into his ego.

He walked over to you in a few quick strides, eyes zeroed in on you, nothing else mattered at that moment, "Can I talk to you?" To say you were surprised would be an understatement, you were ecstatic, you've wanted this for so long, to talk to him in front of others, you never knew if you should because he might've felt uncomfortable, "Yes ofcourse, what is it?" you nod, a smile still on your face, "Alone," his voice was cold, "oh yeah, sure-" you step towards him, thinking he'd lead you somewhere private but he stayed rooted in his place, eyes never leaving yours, he stayed quiet for a bit, taking in your whole self, the bright clothes you were dressed in, the equally bright smile on your face. Then he looked over your head, to the shocked faces of your friends, "Alone." It came out as an order, he couldn't care less. 

Mattheo liked this newfound authority, he also relished in the fact that you were being so compliant as if you wanted this to happen and he couldn't be more glad, "Guys, I'll be back, you can go ahead, don't worry," you explained, seeing their hesitance, his unwavering gaze was back on you, brown eyes were intense. The apprehensive group slowly emptied the room and just went the last person was out, Mattheo muttered something under his breath, and the door slammed shut, locking itself. 

Mattheo cursed that pretty smile of yours before smiling back, "You have a date? For the ball?" you lowered your eyes to the ground at the question, a shy look grazing your features as you shook your head, the more he looked at you, the more positive he got. "Good."  He finally pulled his hands out of his pocket and suddenly there was a bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hand and a velvet box, he wordlessly handed them to you, your eyes were wide, full of amusement, face warm, you noticed how the lights around you got dimmer, the small mock firefly charms that floated in the air, you didn't have a clue on how he was doing all this without his wand but you couldn't bring yourself to think of it, not when you had him standing in front you, in all his glory, about to ask you to the ball, gosh you felt like you were on cloud nine, the guy you were waiting for had actually approached you? You had to be dreaming. 

Then out of nowhere, you hear your favourite song but on strings, you look down at the box curiously- "It's the muggle chocolate you were talking about, the one you said was hard to get your hands on," he shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal but in reality, he was finding the courage to finally tell you what he was feeling, ask you out. Your brows pinched together, as you noticed that all of it was a muggle, even the flower arrangement- the song, how did he do all of this? You looked up at him with an amused look. "No questions please," he breathed out like he was out of breath, you then smiled at him gratefully, and he quickly averted his eyes, his hand subconsciously reaching over to his chest, "Oh Merlin," he exhaled quietly, not being able to look back at you. 

He then slowly gathered the courage to look back at you, you were just looking at him patiently, the smile still on your face, Mattheo cleared his throat before opening up, "I have never been the one to be graceful but I want to do this properly." he inhaled sharply before continuing, "Ever since that night, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, I think I've gone mad honestly," He lets out a dry chuckle shaking his head, looking into your eyes, "I think I've taken a liking to you, your voice, your smile-" and then he interrupts himself, forgetting the little speech he prepared as he watches your smile widen at his words, "yeah that, more of that please," and that makes you blush, the genuine interest in his eyes, the way admiration shines in his eyes, you are so close to him, that you can hear his heart thumping loudly, "I'd like to have the honour of taking you to the ball," then he says your name quietly, "would you like be my date?" 

"Yes yes!" you couldn't be more excited, you are quick to throw your arms around him, and all the worries leave his body as soon as he is subjected to your embrace, he closes his eyes, pulling you closer, finding everything comfortable in your grip. His heartstrings thrum at the moment, it was embarrassing how quickly you got him flustered but he didn't seem to mind it. He whispered a small "thank you," before hugging you tighter, you just giggled into his chest and Merlin, did he feel like he had just won the lottery.

...

<<prev work: this love || mattheo riddle

[carakook]

Shut Up .・。.・゜✭・.

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“If I fuck you, will you calm the fuck down and listen to me?”

🔞FOR MATURE AUDIENCES🔞

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Synopsis: After taking a job as a co-writer, you quickly find that you and your “boss” just don’t get along. Constantly butting heads, disagreeing on things, and he isn’t even nice about it. He’s a fucking dick. He’s always criticizing you in embarrassing ways, but you’ve tried to be patient, ride it out. Over the short time you’ve worked here, the tension has built quickly, and it is clear both of you cannot stand each other. Unfortunately, today is the day you reach your limit after he humiliates you in front of several of your coworkers… and the “conflict resolution” is definitely something you did not expect.

Genre: Enemies to lovers (or hookup in this case), workplace affair.

Pairings: Boss/Writer!Namjoon x Co-writer!Reader

Word count: 7.5k+

Warnings: 18+, Heavy smut!! Hate sex, protected sex (wrap it up), rough sex, face fucking, light slapping (not in the face), a bit of spit play, face fucking, cussing, crying (sort of), heavy conflict, degradation, arguing, name calling, a bit of teasing, cum eating? (Sort of), dry humping, face humping, being slapped with dick (lightly), Let me know if I missed anything!

⚠Disclaimer⚠:This story does not in any way reflect the character of those who are mentioned, it is totally fiction and just for fun. Please don’t take it seriously.

A/N: Hiiii! This is my first one shot. I’ve actually had it in my drafts for a long time but never posted it, I decided to finish it recently and post it here. I hope you like it! I love writing, have soooo many drafted one shots/full on fanfics with each of the boys. A looot of them are with Jungkook, can’t help myself. He’s my lover… 😭 Anyway, if you guys end up liking this I’ll post more. Thank you so much for reading if you do!

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.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

There aren’t many things you regret in life. Because if you allow yourself to regret things, you overthink. Overthinking is never a good thing.

See, it wasn’t awful at first. But the moment you met Kim Namjoon, you could tell he had a problem with you. What? You didn’t know. You still don’t know. But he never bothered hiding it.

You powered through, because this was sort of like a dream job for you. You loved writing music, writing lyrics. It was hard to even find a job like this to begin with. So when you got the callback, you jumped at the chance. You were so excited to be working here, and you were familiar with Kim Namjoon. You thought his songs were beautiful, his writing style seemed similar to yours.

Boy, you were wrong.

Not even a week into working here he was heavily criticizing you. But again… you pushed through. Because you were new, he had a right to be picky. This was his studio, he was technically your boss… technically. So you tried to be patient and listen to his criticism.

Which didn’t last long. Because he was not subtle. Arguably, there is a difference between constructive criticism and being blatantly rude and picky. Namjoon was straight-up rude. And at times it was embarrassing.

Nothing you did seemed to satisfy him. Every single time you brainstormed with him and the team, he disagreed with you. Every time you proposed lyrics, he rejected your ideas. Every time you so as much opened your mouth, he had an issue with what you had to say.

You tried to be patient… you genuinely did. But you don’t like feeling disrespected or embarrassed. And you certainly don’t take shit from anyone. So the last two weeks you’ve both been bickering, and the tension is noticeable not only to you and Namjoon but to the entire damn team.

The worst part about it all? You are so fucking attracted to him. He makes your tummy swoop with butterflies. He smells good. He’s tall, his dimples are fucking adorable, and his body… god, he is to die for. The sexual tension is prominent.

If only he wasn’t such a dick.

Today pushed you to your limits. Never in your life have you been more embarrassed.

It all started with a song he was working on. He played the beat, and immediately you were inspired. You got excited. Your attitude was bright, and you immediately jotted the lyrics down on your paper when they came to mind. You seriously thought today would be the day he’d be proud. He would agree. You felt good about it.

Only for him to burst out laughing when he read the lyrics. That wasn’t even the worst part. It’s bad enough that he laughed at you in front of the entire team. But what he said next is what made you lose your shit.

“Oh- shit. You’re serious?”

He stared at you for a moment, taking in your very irritated expression. And then he fucking laughed again.

“Fuck, Y/N. I thought this was a joke. God, I wish it was a joke because it would be hilarious if it was. It sounds like a fucking kids-bop song. You can’t be serious.”

And that’s when all hell broke loose.

You went off on him. In front of everyone. For three minutes straight you cursed him out, waived your hands around, and made it clear how much you cannot stand him and how rude he has been. How humiliated you feel. You’ve always been praised for your writing, so why the fuck doesn’t he like it? You are fucking pissed.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to cuss your boss out in front of everyone… but at this point, you don’t care. If he gets you fired by the company, oh-fucking-well.

Namjoon stares at you for a moment once you’re done. Your chest is heaving, your cheeks are red, and your brows are furrowed angrily. Clearly, he didn’t expect your outburst. His nostrils are flared and his jaw is tense, it even does the little tick thing that drives you crazy. Fuck him for being so hot. Fuck him for being so damn hot and such a dick.

He raises a brow at you, tongue in cheek, making that angry face that would be incredibly attractive if it weren’t directed at you. He lets out an angry huff of air before speaking.

“Studio. Now.”

He points at his studio as he says this as if you’re too stupid to understand his words. This pisses you off even more.

“You’re not my fucking boss.”

He scoffs at you, briefly smiling at your bold choice of words. You infuriate him just as much as he infuriates you.

“Actually, Y/N, I am. Studio. Now.”

You know that technically, he is your boss. But you refuse to listen to him after how humiliated he made you feel. In front of everyone, how dare he speak to you this way? Regardless of his weird hate for you. Besides, he can’t fire you. He may be able to request it, but you know that he won’t. From what you’ve heard, It took forever to fill this position. He was picky when it came to hiring someone… which makes this more confusing. You can’t figure out what his issue is with you, especially when he is the one who helped pick you for the job. Regardless, you know that he doesn’t have the patience to do it again. He’s full of shit.

You stand your ground. You won’t back down this time. You’re tired of the disrespect.

“No, Namjoon. Whatever you want to say, you can say it here. You’ve already embarrassed me, so go ahead, do it some more. I’m sure you get off on it.”

No longer smiling, his gaze is dark. He’s pissed. Now he’s a bit embarrassed… that’s what he gets.

“I won’t ask again. You can march your ass upstairs, or I can carry you. Your choice.”

You say nothing, surely he wouldn’t do that. He’s bluffing. Regardless of how harsh he has been towards you, you know that he wouldn’t cross that line. You hope that he doesn’t. The last thing that you want is for him to touch you. Not because he makes you uncomfortable, but because you already have enough dirty thoughts about him. You hate him, yet he turns you on in a way you’ve never felt. Lust driven by pure hatred, it’s a dangerous thing.

But of course, you were wrong, and he never ceases to surprise you. Never underestimate Kim Namjoon.

You stay silent, secretly hoping that he will just back down and continue the brainstorming session. But is Kim Namjoon the type of man to back down? No. He never has been.

He strides over to you quickly, taking big steps in your direction, causing you to miss your chance to run.

He swiftly grabs your waist and hoists you over his shoulder, his fingers digging into your thighs. You don’t even have time to react before he starts carrying you upstairs to the studio. He has no trouble doing so either, carrying you as if you weigh nothing.

You come to your senses and swat at his back while you yell profanities at him, demanding that he put you down, threatening to report him, and telling him that he’ll be fired by morning if he doesn’t stop.

But you know that he won’t. This company would never side with you, no matter what Namjoon did. They relied on him. They didn’t rely on you. You were replaceable, even if it would be difficult. Namjoon is not replaceable.

“Resume the session. If you finish before we’re done, you’re free to go. This may take a while. Don’t interrupt us.”

Hurried nods are sent in his direction, no one dares protest him or intervene. Cowards.

He kicks the door open to the studio, entering with ease, making sure not to hit your head on the doorframe as he walks in. You wish he would have hit your head, knocked you out, hell even thrown you over the staircase. Anything to avoid this humiliation he has cursed you with. You almost wish you would’ve just kept your damn mouth shut.

But the damage is done now. No point in backing down.

He throws you roughly on the couch sitting opposite his desk and then closes the door, locking it before facing you.

You glare at him, chest heaving, heart beating out of your chest. You’re just as pissed as he is. Yet, you still find yourself clenching your thighs together, irritated at the fact that he turns you on so much. You shouldn’t be horny right now… yet you are. The way he squeezed your thighs… fuck. Fuck him. God, fuck him to hell. You hate him.

“What the fuck was that?” You nearly growl at him.

He stands in front of you, arms crossed, looking down on you as if you’re nothing more than a pesky roach that he wants to squash.

“I told you, you could walk, or I could carry you. You made your choice, clearly.”

Fuck him.

“Fuck you, Namjoon. This is ridiculous.”

He laughs. He laughs at you.

Fuck him.

“You are ridiculous, Y/N. Why are you even here, if you can’t take criticism?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I can take criticism, constructive criticism, something that you are apparently incapable of giving. You’re so fucking mean to me and I’ve done NOTHING to you.”

“No, I-“

You cut him off, unable to control your mouth.

“And another thing, it’s only me that you speak to this way. I’ve yet to see you speak to anyone else the way that you do me. What is your issue with me, why do you hate me so much?”

“Maybe if you-“

You cut him off again, and his jaw does the tick thing. He’s getting angrier, but you do not give a fuck.

“No, this isn’t on me. I earned my spot here, I was hired for a reason, and everyone else respects me, why don’t you?”

“Because-“

Again.

Fuck him.

“There is no reason, you obviously have some sort of sick vendetta against me. You’re fucking insufferable!”

“Me? No, you-“

Again.

And he’s had enough.

“No, fuck you Namjoon, fuck you and this weird ass game you’re playing, you—“

He borderline growls before he pins you on the couch.

You don’t even have time to register what he’s doing, and if you did, you’d slap the shit out of him.

That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.

His lips crash into yours as he hovers over you, one knee perched in between your legs, while his other leg steadies him. He grabs your face with force, so rough that you swear he could break your jaw if he gripped you any harder. His other hand is on the back of the couch, steadying him the same and pinning you in place.

The kiss is no different. His lips assault yours, and he wastes no time in forcing his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you with vigor. A kiss unlike any you’ve ever experienced before. You’ve only ever been kissed like this in your dreams, the same dreams that wake you up in the middle of the night leaving you touch-starved. It’s fucking aggressive and rough.

And of course, you kiss him back. You don’t want to. Yet you do. You don’t want to give in to him. But you do. You can’t help it. As soon as he made his move, you were under his control. He has that way about him, he’s easily able to affect people. You were a different story. You always defied him, disagreed with him, challenged him. Yet, this is the way that he tames you, even if only for a minute. Shit. You’re weaker than you thought.

He nips your bottom lip before pulling back, your jaw still in his grip. His nostrils are flared and his breathing is rigid, as if he’s just as shocked as you are at his actions.

And he is. He has no idea why he just kissed you. He has no idea what came over him. He just wanted you to shut the fuck up, and he acted on impulse. And now he has a raging hard-on, which pisses him off even more. He doesn’t want to want you, in the same way that you don’t want to want him. But you both do.

He whispers, searching your face, studying your reaction.

“Do you ever just shut the fuck up and listen?”

You clear your throat, still trying to come down from the rush of the kiss, adrenaline running through your veins.

“I-“

“Do you know how fucking irritated you make me?”

Suddenly, you have no fight left in you. You feel intimidated. Fuck him.

“Then why-“

“Am I gonna have to kiss you every time you need to shut the fuck up?”

You blink at him, unable to respond. You have no idea what to do, or how to react, and are becoming distracted by the puddle seeping between your thighs.

You haven’t had sex in over a year. You haven’t been able to grow interest in someone enough to give them that piece of yourself again. Your last situation-ship left you simply sick of men. Sex wasn’t appealing enough to go through that again. But, of course, as if the universe is punishing you, Namjoon awakens your sex drive.

You nervously bite your lip and clench your thighs, not even realizing what you’re doing. You’re on the verge of tears, overwhelmed with anger and lust. And this doesn’t go unnoticed by Namjoon.

He looks down at your thighs, and you immediately unclench them. Your cheeks betray you by reddening, thanks to the smirk that very clearly gives away that he knows exactly what you’re feeling right now.

He keeps his eyes on your thighs for a moment before looking up at you. He smirks, raising a brow, giving you a crooked smile that tells you he knows your dirty little secret. Your jaw is still firmly in his grasp.

“Is that it? You’re sexually frustrated? Is that why you’re being such a bitch?”

You try to wriggle from his grasp, embarrassed, angry, horny. You’re starting to wish he would just fire you. Anything to save you the embarrassment of his knowing glare.

“Fuck you.”

He chuckles, bringing his face closer to yours, so close that you can feel his breath touch your lips.

“Yeah? Fuck me? If I fuck you, will you calm the fuck down and listen to me?”

You blink at him again and say nothing. You want to protest, tell him how gross he is, tell him how much you hate him, tell him that he’s the worst. Yet, his idea just makes you hornier. You’ve never had hate sex, and oh fuck, you’re sure that it would improve your mood, even some of the tension between you two.

But it pains you to even admit that. It’s humiliating. He has humiliated you enough.

He moves his hand to the back of your head, angling it upwards so that he has better access to your neck. He places his lips on your jaw, running his teeth up it, leading to the crook of your neck, keeping his lips on you as he speaks his next words.

He grabs your wrist with his other hand, leading it to his crotch, coaxing you to feel him. And he’s hard. So hard that you’re certain a button will break on his jeans. Fuck. He feels giant… You’re so fucked.

“Do you see what you do to me? Never in my life have I had anyone piss me off to the point of getting a fucking boner.”

You can’t help but whimper at his dirty words, but you make sure to bite your lip, preventing yourself from begging him to take you as you so desperately want to. You aren’t one to beg for anything. And you hate him even more for bringing you to that point.

“I’ve thought about fucking you so many times, Y/N. Fucking you to the point that you don’t even remember your own name, and my name is the only thing that you can scream. I just wanna fuck you until you shut the fuck up.”

“Please, just… do it then.”

Word vomit. You thought it but didn’t intend to say it. Yet, you said it. Of course, you did. You’re on the brink of cumming just from his filthy words.

He kisses your neck before speaking. And you can feel him smile as he does so.

Fuck him.

“Oh, Y/N, baby, hearing you beg makes it so tempting. I never thought you’d be the type, considering the amount of shit you talk.”

You croak out, suddenly feeling defensive, “I’m not. I don’t beg for shit.” You weakly push at his chest, even though you both know damn well you don’t want him to stop.

He laughs, pulling back to look at you, keeping his face close.

“Yet, here you are, begging for my cock like a desperate whore.”

You frown at him, feigning offense, when in reality his degradation is making you even more desperate. Why? You don’t know. You’ve never liked being degraded, in fact, nothing turns you off more than being called names… but hearing it come out of Namjoon's mouth? Fuck.

“I’m not a whore.” You whisper.

He tilts his head at you, amused.

“Fucking obviously, you’re acting like you’ve never been touched before. Are you this needy with other men?”

“There are no other men.”

He studies you for a moment, carefully calculating his next move. The way that he looks at you makes you feel insecure, as if he’s a judge on one of those cooking shows, trying to figure out whether he likes the taste of you or not. You have the urge to push him away and take off, his gaze is too goddamn intense.

He is too intense. Never met a man like him.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You mumble, looking away from him.

“Like what?” He asks, furrowing his brows. Amused.

“Like you think I’m the most vile thing on earth.”

He’s taken aback by your response, almost looking offended. Because that is the last thing he was thinking. If only you knew.

“Vile? Baby, I’m so hard for you right now that it hurts, do you know how hot you are when you’re pissed? Fucking annoying, but soooo hot.”

You squirm, your cheeks pinking again. You didn’t expect that. You expected him to laugh in your face and agree. He grunts as he takes in your facial expression. If only you knew what you truthfully do to him. He closes his eyes and scrunches his brows, taking a deep breath before he pulls away from you, leaving you considering getting on your damn knees and begging for him to touch you again.

He chuckles while shaking his head, eyes still closed as he speaks. As if he’s in pain from pulling away from you.

“Yeah, fuck, and you’re cute when you blush. This is fucked. I can’t stand you, yet you’re so fucking cute. What the fuck are you doing to me? Huh?”

Fuck. He’s making this hard. You’re so overwhelmed. So pissed, so horny, you wanna push him away and cuss him out some more, but also you’ve never wanted another man more in your life than you do him right now.

Both of you stare at each other silently for a moment. His jaw keeps doing the tick thing, and you squeeze your thighs tighter, rubbing them together to relieve some pressure. His eyes flick to them, and you don’t even bother hiding it this time. As humiliating as it is, his cock is hard and bulging out of his jeans. So you can’t find yourself caring too much at the moment.

What really makes his resolve waver is the way you’re looking at him, which you don’t even realize. Normally you look at him with such disdain, as if he’s the vile one. But right now? Your eyes are wide and glossy, your lip stuck between your teeth. You’re looking at him almost sweetly. The desperation in your gaze is impossible to hide.

He loses it completely.

“Ah, fuck it.” He declares before grabbing you by your hair again as he sits on the couch. He tugs you roughly into his lap and starts devouring your mouth again.

You let out a little huff of air as he does this, not quite used to the rough handling. But god, it’s fucking divine. You feel as if all of the anger you’ve held for him comes rushing out in the form of kisses and touches. He feels the same.

His hand leaves your hair and he grips your hips, roughly grinding his hard cock onto your pussy. Dry humping like fucking teenagers as you make out aggressively.

Your hands come to rest on his face, framing it as they tremble slightly from the overwhelming emotions. You don’t hold back this time either, licking into his mouth wantonly, letting out little grunts and mewls that make his cock strain and twitch inside of his jeans.

His hands leave your hips to grip your ass, and he fucking groans into your mouth. He slaps it once, testing. When you let out a whine, he slaps it much harder this time, making your body jerk slightly.

He laughs into your mouth and says breathily, “Fuck, you really are a whore aren’t you?”

You bite his lip hard when he says this. You hate it. You love it. You grind down harder onto his clothed cock. He reaches back up to grip your hair and tugs your head back, pulling on it harshly and pulling you away from his mouth.

He grins when he hears you whine at the loss of his lips. “You wanna fucking bite me, huh? Uh-uh, fuck no you don’t.”

He pushes you off of his lap and lets go of your hair, you look up at him with heavy-lidded eyes and confusion. Honestly, you already look fucked out and he’s barely done anything. You’re just touch-starved, so every little kiss and touch is fucking you up. You’re craving relief from both your sexual frustration and the building irritation he’s caused you over the last month.

Before you even realize what he’s about to do, he grabs your hair again, his grip much firmer this time. It actually kind of hurts… yet you don’t stop him. He pushes your face roughly into his clothed cock, and grinds onto your face as he spreads his legs wider on the couch.

Oh fuck.

He grunts as he starts nearly smothering you. When he feels a bit of your drool gets onto his crotch, he yanks your head back, he laughs again, “Bet your big fucking mouth is great at sucking cock. Should we find out?”

You just glare at him. Don’t wanna give him the satisfaction even though every single thing he has done so far has made you borderline cream your pants.

He clicks his tongue, “No? Don’t have anything to say now? Isn’t that funny…”

Fuck him.

He keeps his grip tight on your hair as he uses his other hand to fumble with his zipper and button. Once it’s undone, he whips his cock out. It hits the fabric of his rumpled shirt and is already dripping precum.

Holy. Fuck. His cock is huge. A good nine inches.

He yanks your head forward again, literally smearing your face all over it, humping your face again. His head falls back and he grunts at the feeling. Your skin is just so soft, and the way your makeup is already becoming fucked up is making him go crazy. He’s always loved sloppy sex. And you are fucking gorgeous like this, he thinks.

He grabs his cock with his free hand as he tilts your head back, starts slapping your mouth with it, your cheeks too. The precum starts stringing from your cheek to the tip of his cock, and you can see his pupils dilate even bigger, he almost looks like he’s about to lose control.

He says uncharacteristically softly, “If you want me to stop, pinch my thigh real hard, yeah?”

If you had even a single moment of free thought, you would’ve probably been thankful that he gave you an out. You know despite him being a huge piece of work, he’s not a bad guy. So the fact he’s setting boundaries in your favor, even in the heat of the moment, is comforting. He cares about your safety and comfort. It’s the bare minimum of course, but most men lack even that. It’s why you stopped having casual sex to begin with.

But you don’t have a moment to think because pushes your lips down onto his cock abruptly, your mouth opens on instinct and he shoves himself inside. Doesn’t even ease into it, he just straight up plows his cock inside of your mouth until your nose is pressed against his pelvis.

You cough, and gag, already drooling all over him. Fuck it’s hot. You’ve never been face fucked like this before, but you’re starting to think maybe you’ve been missing out on good sex if this is how good rough sex feels.

You can’t even imagine what his cock would feel like inside of you if it feels this good in your mouth.

When he sees tears start to form, he pulls your hair back, strings of spit and precum connecting from your mouth and onto the tip of his cock. Fuck, it felt so good feeling your throat constrict around his cock. His resolve is wavering heavily. But he’s trying to remain patient. He smirks at you, stroking his spit-covered cock lazily directly onto your lips, causing beads of precum to escape his tip and cover your lips like lipgloss.

“Fuck, look at you. And you haven’t said a damn word. So pretty when you shut up.”

Your cheeks flush and you say petulantly, “Fuck you.” Because even now you don’t wanna give him the satisfaction.

That’s short-lived though because he starts fucking your mouth again. He shoves his cock inside and starts thrusting into your mouth as if it’s a goddamn sex toy. He hits the back of your throat with every thrust, causing you to gag and cough, your hands squeezing his thighs hard but not pinching.

You can take it.

He grunts out, “Fuck… I swear to god I’ll fuck your pretty little mouth every goddamn time you mouth off from now on Y/N, since nothing else has worked so far.”

Each word punctuated by a harsh thrust, he grunts our, “Just shut. the. fuck. up. Fuuuck.”

He keeps fucking up into your mouth, not easing up even for a second. Your eyes roll back in your head, and all you can do is take it. His thrusts only become sloppier and wetter. His head is thrown back and his abdomen starts clenching hard. But he knows you need to breathe. As much as he wishes he could just cum down your throat; he has other plans…

He pulls your head back again, he’s already feeling a bit too close to cumming. He doesn’t wanna cum too fast, he’s certain it would give you more to talk shit about.

He gazes down at you with heavy-lidded eyes, his mouth parted slightly and his breaths coming in fast. You look utterly fucked. Your makeup is ruined completely now, your eyes are red and teary, and your pretty pink lips are swollen. His stomach flutters, because he thinks you have never looked prettier.

He’s always thought you were so pretty. It’s one of the reasons he can’t stand you. He isn’t supposed to want you. You’re his coworker, technically his subordinate.

But none of that matters now, does it?

He doesn’t look much better, his shirt is covered in wet spit and his boxers are ruined too. He should’ve taken his clothes off… but luckily, he thinks it’s so much hotter this way.

His cock twitches against his belly, and he strokes your cheek with his free hand. He murmurs, “You good?”

You nod stupidly at him even as drool dribbles down your chin and your mascara runs onto your cheeks. There’s nothing to say really. You’ve never enjoyed having a dick down your throat so much. And he has effectively shut you up.

He nods and guides your head up, kisses you deeply. His eyes roll back as he tastes his precum on your tongue. So fucking good, he thinks.

He guides your pliant body to lay down on the couch, and then he settles in between your legs, his hands stroking up and down your thighs as he looks you over. God, there is so much he wants to do to you. He wants to use you but also wants to make you come undone as many times as possible.

Maybe then you’ll be more tolerable. Maybe this is what you both need, he rationalizes.

But he’s getting impatient. His cock is standing tall as he looks down at you, visibly pulsating, jerking upward now and then. And fuck, it’s making you impatient too. So much so that you whine at him, “Fuck, stop looking and just do something.”

His jaw ticks. He’s getting irritated. That’s what you think, anyway. But in reality, he’s preening on the fact you’re just as impatient as he is. It gives him an excuse to cut the foreplay and fuck you stupid.

You want him to do something? Oh, he will.

He lets out an almost mocking laugh, “Yeah? Want me to do something about it? You sure?”

You groan and roll your eyes at him, scooting your ass closer to his pelvis on the couch, his cock dripping so much precum, you have no idea how he’s not losing his mind right now. You certainly are. In fact, he’s starting to piss you off again.

Right as you’re about to talk shit, he can immediately tell. He grabs the front of your button-up and he rips it open. Doesn’t unbutton it like a normal person, but fucking rips it open, sending buttons flying on the floor of the studio. You let out a grunt, and blink at him in surprise with your mouth open.

You liked that shirt. Fuck him.

“Fucking seriously? You’re ruining my clothes now?”

Your patience is almost nonexistent at this point. You have drool and precum drying on your chin, you’re so horny it hurts, and he just ripped your shirt open like a wild fucking animal.

But him? It’s like he’s not even paying attention. His eyes are averted downward, tongue flicking over his lips. He looks almost stupid like this. What the fuck?

You look down to see what he’s gawking at, and… Oh. Oh. Kinda slipped your mind that you aren’t wearing a bra today. You were running late this morning and forgot to throw one on. Oops.

Namjoon doesn’t even look at your face at this point. His eyes are glued to your tits. He feels kind of ridiculous, getting this worked up over tits. He’s seen tits many times, it’s nothing new. But something about yours has him salivating, has his cock jerking upward.

He reaches down and starts lightly slapping the sides of your tits, watching them jiggle with a gaze full of hunger, he rasps out, “Not the only thing I’m gonna be ruining.”

One hand remains playing with your tits like they’re fucking stress balls, and Namjoon would argue that they absolutely are. The other hand reaches down and lifts your skirt, causing it to pool around your waist. He looks down a bit further, begrudgingly tearing his eyes away from your perfect tits, his other hand pushing your ruined panties to the side. He groans, nearly growls when he notices how wet you are. Fuck. He’s so close to losing control.

He dips a single finger into your sopping heat, just barely. Moves the creamy juices around before pushing his finger fully inside, squeezing your tit hard in his other hand. Your hips buck up involuntarily and your head falls back against the couch. You fucking hate yourself for the desperate noise that claws out of your throat.

Namjoon is no better, the moment he feels how wet you truly are, he lets a sound that sounds no better than the one you just let out. His breathing picks up, his heart starts beating faster, and his cock is so hard at this point that it’s actually painful. God, you are just so tight. Your pussy is clenching around his finger as if it’s trying to swallow him whole.

“N-Namjoon— please. Fuck. Please.” You beg again, don’t even care how pathetic you sound. A single fucking finger isn’t enough for how badly you want him right now. Want to be filled up and fucked hard. He’s barely moving it too. Just lightly grazing your walls, and it’s so frustrating. You just want to cum. Get it all out.

Namjoons resolve finally breaks when he sees a trickle of creamy white drip out of your pussy and onto the couch, he can’t take it anymore. He genuinely wanted to tease you, make a fucking mess of you. Make you beg and cry for him because of how much you piss him off. But not even he is strong enough to stall, he needs you. Now.

One last slap to the tit, he pulls his hand away and hastily reaches over for his wallet on the side table next to the couch. He pulls a condom out, brings the wrapper up to his mouth, and tears it open. And fuck, that’s so sexy. Your pussy clenches his finger again at the sight, and then he jerks it out of your pussy with a grunt.

You whine at him, almost feeling offended. But Namjoon knows damn well he’s going a little crazy because he just got jealous. Jealous of his own fucking finger. Should be his cock, not his finger. What the fuck are you doing to him?

He doesn’t warn you before he stuffs the same finger, accompanied by another finger, into your mouth. Nearly making you choke just like you did on his cock. Then he tosses the wrapped condom onto your bare chest, “Put it on me. Quick.”

You don’t even hesitate, you grab the condom with shakey hands and fumble it out of the package, all while sucking his fingers clean of your own juices. It only turns you on more, tasting yourself on his skin.

You reach for his cock, grab it with one shaky hand and his hips buck into it a bit. He lets out a little hiss through his teeth because of how sensitive it is, neglected for too long. That’s how it feels, anyway.

You roll the condom onto his cock snuggly and then look up at him expectantly with a desperate but wrecked look. Give him the best ‘fuck me’ eyes you can muster up. He keeps his fingers in your mouth. Doesn’t even move. Again, drawing it out. Attempting to, anyway.

You whine against his fingers, and would probably be begging him if you could talk. But Namjoon can’t take it anymore, lucky for you. He moves his hips forward and uses his free hand to position his cock at your entrance.

The moment the tip is sucked into your tight hole, he snaps. Literally, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. You cry out even with your mouth around his fingers, sounding muffled and wet. Your back arched obscenely because fuck you didn’t expect him to just go in like that.

You’re not complaining though, fuck no.

His head falls back like yours, and he stays like that for a moment, his teeth grit and eyes clenched shut. He removes his fingers from your mouth and grabs your face with one hand, smooshing your cheeks, the other hand coming back up to your tit and squeezing it harshly, as if he just can’t help himself. Squeezing so hard that it kinda hurts. But fuck, it feels so good. You’re starting to realize maybe you have a thing for shit like this.

Doesn’t help when you feel his cock twitching inside of you. It’s just enough stimulation to make your pussy start throbbing around him.

It’s pathetic how close you already are. But god, it feels like he edged you for hours. Even though he barely did anything. You guess you just kinda forgot what actual dick felt like compared to your fingers or a toy.

He starts moving his hips slowly, trying to be patient while your pussy adjusts to his size. But your patience left the moment he entered you.

“Fuck. Go faster, please.”

Your voice sounds high-pitched and a bit loud which you don’t even realize. You can’t control it. He clicks his tongue at this, gives your face a little shake as he says, “Thought I told you to shut the fuck up? Unless you want all of your coworkers to know you’re letting your boss fuck the shit out of you like a whore? That what you want?”

He pulls back out and then slams in again. You let out another cry, body jolting at the force. And he starts just pounding into you.

You asked for this.

How the fuck are you supposed to be quiet when he goes from 0 to 100 like that? Holy fuck.

“Oh, so you do? You want them all to know I’m making you my slut after humiliating you for your shitty writing? C’mon, speak up. Can’t hear you. Use your fucking words.”

All while snapping his hips harshly into yours, out one moment, deep inside the next. You can barely take it. You swear you can feel him in your fucking stomach. Hardly even register his degrading words because you can’t think, can’t speak, can’t even control the loud noises coming out of your mouth, although you desperately try.

Tears prickle your eyes, not because it hurts but because you’re overwhelmed. He’s so hard to figure out. Acting like he’s gonna tease you one moment, and then fucking you like he’s trying to split you in half the next.

He lets out a grunt at your lack of response and ends up squishing your cheeks harder, forcing your mouth open. He leans down slightly and fucking spits in your mouth and then stuffs his fingers back in your mouth, “Actually, just shut the fuck up. Keep your mouth busy and shut the fuck— ah, fuck— the fuck up.”

Fucking disgusting. Fucking hot.

The way his words falter and he loses train of thought for a second makes your pussy clench deliciously around him. Because it’s confirmation that he is just as affected as you are. Just as fucked up right now.

You both look a mess. Your shirt is torn open, your skirt all crooked and pushed up to your waist, and your panties aren’t even fully off. His shirt is still damp with spit, his pants only halfway pulled down and now there’s a creamy white stain on the front of them from your juices dripping down his dick.

It’s heaven, honestly. Or maybe hell. You aren’t sure. But it feels so fucking good.

His hips piston into your cunt hard and fast, and you do your best to focus on sucking his fingers, but the pressure is building fast. You can feel your pussy start to flutter, your clit throbbing, begging to be paid attention to. He can feel it too, it’s making him go crazy because of how responsive you are.

He slams home one more time before staying there, swiveling his hips in a circle so that his pelvis brushes against your clit each time, giving it the minimal amount of attention that has you nearly seeing stars, almost there, but not quite.

“Need more?” He pants out.

You nod your head quickly, his fingers covered in your saliva at this point. Dripping in the essence of you just like his cock. He nods back, removes his other hand from your hip, and settles it at the bottom of your belly, pushing down and placing his thumb over your clit. He starts flicking it fast and starts fucking into you again, picking up the pace so that the room fills with wet squelching noises and skin slapping.

The way he’s pushing onto your tummy while rubbing your clit, Jesus fuck… it’s intense. Makes it feel like he is inside of your stomach. So fucking deep.

Yup. That does it. The stagnant pressure starts building rapidly, he can feel it too. Your pussy starts tightening and fluttering beautifully around his girth. You’re making the prettiest noises, still quiet thanks to his fingers stuffed in your mouth but he can hear you the perfect amount.

God, it’s so perfect, he thinks.

You, you’re not thinking at all. He really is fucking you stupid. Your eyes are continuously rolling back and your hips buck into his thrusts desperately, quickly approaching your climax.

He flicks your clit back and forth, fast but precisely, “C’mon baby, give it to me. Fucking cum all over me. Make a mess. Ungh— god you’re such a fucking slut.”

And that sends you. Out of everything, something about Namjoon calling you a slut just fucking does it for you. You let out a muffled moan, that would be a scream most likely if his fingers weren’t sheathed into your mouth. Your legs tremble and your body shudders through the force of your orgasm.

Your pussy throbs violently, walls rippling around his cock as you finally see those stars. It feels fucking amazing, makes tears fall down your cheek. You can barely breathe because of the force of how fucking good it feels to cum on his cock.

This is his end too. He simply can’t hold back when he feels the vice grip of your pussy desperately trying to keep his cock in place, the rippling of your walls nearly feels like vibrations. He lets out another groan, but it almost comes out like a whine. Very subtly. His face is scrunched up and his mouth open as his hips stutter, his cock spilling and filling up the condom.

It goes on and on. Neither of you thinking about how much you hate each other, only thinking about how good it feels to be together like this. He swears he’s never had sex better than this. You feel the same.

The reality of it all is hate sex is unmatched. Especially when tensions build for so long and you both act as if you can’t stand each other… who knew a fuck could’ve helped with that?

At the last twitch of his cock, when your pussy becomes overstimulated and sore, he collapses on top of you. Both of you panting harshly, catching your breaths as your hearts beat in unison.

He removes his spit-covered fingers from your mouth, and he places lazy little kisses on your skin. He isn’t even sure where, too fucked out to pay attention, just anywhere he can reach while he rests on top of you. It’s an oddly tender gesture. A little sweet, even.

It’s silent for a few minutes. And you both start to realize what you’ve done. You just fucked your technical boss… he just fucked one of his co-writers.

Definitely shouldn’t have happened.

He can’t find himself regretting it though. He feels so light, that he could almost smile. As much of an excuse as it was at first, it genuinely helped with the tension. He’s not quite as irritated with you. Does he like you now? Fuck no.

But the more post-nut clarity comes to fruition… the more he thinks he can tolerate you. Maybe even work with you, compromise with you.

You on the other hand… you don’t know how to feel. You don’t regret it, because fuck, it did help with the tension. You feel lighter too. Not as sensitive. Not as hateful.

Maybe it was for the best. It’s not like anyone has to know, anyway. It’s like couples counseling sort of… except you’re definitely not a couple, and you both still cannot stand each other.

But you can tolerate each other now that most of the tension is gone for the time being.

“You good?”

He tears you away from your thoughts, and you look up at him with bleary eyes. It makes you feel sort of warm and fuzzy inside knowing despite his dislike for you, he’s still checking to make sure he didn’t cross any lines.

Well, he crossed several lines. But, you aren’t complaining. You’re glad he did. Glad he reduced you to this.

“I’m fucking great.”

That earns you a little chuckle. He sighs a breath of relief, was worried he went a bit too hard or did too much, especially since you didn’t set any boundaries beforehand. But you took what he gave you and you took it like a fucking champ, he thinks.

He reluctantly gets off of you because now that you’re both a bit more clear-headed, the couch feels a little too small, and he doesn’t wanna crush you.

His softening cock is still inside of you, so he braces a hand on the couch and slowly pulls out, both of you hissing at the feeling. He watches in awe as your juices flow freely out of you. God, what a pretty pussy, he thinks.

He dips a finger back into your heat, causing you to let out a little noise of surprise. But he removes it quickly, brings his finger up to his mouth and sucks it clean.

“Mmm. Yummy.” He says, wiggling his brows.

Ugh.

He pats your thigh before getting off of the couch, taking the condom off, and tying it up to chuck it in the trash. He stuffs his soft and sensitive cock back into his underwear and pulls up his pants, feeling utterly satiated now. Bubbly and light, even though he won’t show it. He makes his way to the little fridge in his studio and he grabs two bottles of water, tosses you one which you barely catch.

You gulp down the water gratefully, parched considering he stole most of your fucking spit. Asshole.

He begins walking into the bathroom attached to his studio as he says, “C’mon let’s go get cleaned up. Then we can look at those lyrics again and see if it still sounds like kids bop now that I’ve fucked you stupid.”

At your immediate glare, he lets out a laugh, and shrugs innocently, “What? Pussy is magic, can change a man’s mind about a lot of things. Now hurry up, you’re a fucking mess.”

And with that, he’s stepping into the bathroom.

Yeah. Fuck him. Still insufferable.

But god, you really do hope to fuck him again.