#i just wanna draw her so bad but I know if I try she's not gonna look anything remotely like I want

[vmlnrzmp4]

hii I saw that ur requests were open so I scrambled for an idea lol

I wanna request for blue lock dad's helping their daughters with math homework. Most of them don't do well in academics so I think it'd be goofy 😋😋

such a cute idea!

itoshi sae

"this is wrong," sae would say as he looks at the numbers accompanied with alphabets. "i know papa! that's why i hate maths!" natsuki says as the both of them glare at the math problem in the text book. he sighs, flipping the page to see the answers behind. "sae," you call sternly, "you're supposed to help her," "i am helping her. we just need to figure out how this dumb book found the answer," he clicks his tongue, "they didn't mention any steps," there were only straight up answers, "natsuki," he calls, "forget this. play piano and make money with that." "papa!" "sae!"

itoshi rin

rin was growing tired looking at the math problem for the past 10 minutes give or take. "papa, why does math hate me so much?" he clicks his tongue, "it's easy, just—" another 10 minutes of legit glaring and aggressively trying to solve the problem later, rin shuts the book close. and sakura, too tired, leans back on the couch, mentally exhausted. "you know what, papa? i give up," she says and rin didn't seem to mind till she continues— "i'll just marry a rich guy—" "no." he reopens the book, "you're finishing this worksheet now."

isagi yoichi

we all know yuki is a math genius. she doesn't need help but yoichi being the best papa accompanies her anyways. "what's today's challenge, kiddo?" yuki goes on explaining him theorems, formulas, proofs, variables and what not—all just to find a simple value of the worst enemy: x. "you know yuki," yoichi rubs his temple, "i was bad at math and science back in my days. seeing you solve all this by yourself...im proud of you yuki," yuki smiles,her heart warming up at her papa's words, "still. math sounds like a scam to me." "why are you like this papa?" he chuckles and shrugs, "dunno. but you know im your biggest supporter right?" "ofcourse ofcourse~" isagi yoichi: math cheerleader, not a solver, yuki's #1 fan.

michael kaiser

"just draw a flower over it. the teacher might give you marks for presentation." "papa!" "joking princess." he ruffles anne's hair. "let's figure this out together." seconds and minutes pass. and still both dad-daughter were trying their best to solve the stupid equation. sighing, he takes out his phone, "papa that's cheating!" he chuckles, shaking his head, "it's called working smarter princess." and even after watching youtube study oneshots and a lot of googling, they still couldn't understand. "how about we call your teacher and ask why she's torturing kids?"

taglist: @anuverse @luciddre @kongkhoi @illyriakrasniqi2007 @passw-0-rd @x3nafix @levihanmyotp @vellichorira @sapph1r3x @tamashithe2nd @p1z-d0n7jud6em3 [open]

[dartalias]

There is a problem bothering me for a time whenever i wanna do fanarts of one of this characters, you see:

Kyoshi looks like Jesa, who looks like Yangchen

So logically Kyoshi probably also looks like Yangchen

But for the theory of the "reincarnation gets the past lovers face's" (that is cannon to me) Kyoshi's face looks like Ummi's

So Ummi looks like Yangchen???

[This would make Kuruk/Kyoshi messy love life much more messy]

And like... Jesa also looks like Ummi??

[Again, their weird love life mess, SOOOO more messier]

i made a graphic for illustrate this:

Its not completed yet and Froget to put their names but its

Kyoshi -> Ummi

Jessa -> Yangchen

Ps: The orenge "???" Ones are the most confusing ones

Ps 2: im not so sure of Ummi tone skin, i try to get directly from a screenshot but turns out pink, she looks more ligth skin then Kuruk or Katara, like mester Paku, put i always thogth of her more towards princess Yue features that are like a in-between?? But that its just me trying to figure out fanart sorry

[leviiackrman]

Miori Rikihisa, age 53 || Keiji Rikihisa, age 54

Saeka Rikihisa, age 29 || Haruma Rikihisa, age 26

Ibu Rikihisa, age 23 || Poko Rikihisa, age 18

Feeling all the feels for jjk rn and wanted to showcase the damaged Rikihisa family - so here they are with this cute picrew again! Shitting parenting = exhausted children carrying the burden of your family. This is post Ibu death based on the ages, but if he was still with us he’d still be v much a Gojo fanboy🥲

Other Families: Durand Family

Tagging (if anyone wants to do something similar): @risingsh0t @simonxriley @statichvm @bbrocklesnar @carrionsflower @roofgeese @unholymilf @florbelles @arklay @captmactavish @shellibisshe @queennymeria @marivenah @riikugan @vvardenfae @thedeadthree @jacobseed @jackiesarch @heroofpenamstan @dameayliins @carlosoliveiraa @shadowglens @fenharel @alexxmason @malefiicarum @nightbloodbix

[solace-seekers]

screaming into the void <3

[jonny-b-meowborn]

Had a dream where I was living in some somewhat fantasy setting, kind of like Fablehaven where in the modern world there's magical creatures n witches n shit. I don't remember much of the beginning of that dream, but I think I was at my home when I learned that some evil witch queen is coming and she's going to kill one girl I knew, that I think was a princess but I don't remember if they were related or like, from different kingdoms or whatever. The queen wants her dead so bad she'd kill anyone that tries to protect her. So, of course, I decided to protect the princess, who was during the entire dream completely unaware of what's happening, I'm not sure if she was even conscious, like, she was in some catatonic state. I took the princess to my place, thinking that the queen definitely won't know she's with some random human guy. So the next thing I know the queen invades my home. She was moving around in like this vehicle that looked like a locomotive but with spider legs so it could move anywhere, and the front of it looked like her face, but it was all looking very futuristic or like some mech. And she was followed by an army of either people in futuristic armor or straight up robots. Weirdly enough she didn't kill anyone at my home, though she did drive her spider train through my home's wall. I managed to escape with the princess using some secret tunnels underground. Eventually after running away for super long and events that I unfortunately don't remember, I ended up in some castle ruins with the princess. The queen found me there, but the weird thing was that she wasn't really threatening. I mean she looked scary, her royal gown and crown also had this metallic elements like robot armor or smth, she looked really cool actually, but in a very scary way. But she was kind, and kind of desperate. When she found us in the ruins, she came there alone in her train, and left the vehicle behind her as she approached us. I have this very clear image of me curled up around the princess, protecting her with my body, in some corner, and the queen reaching her hand to me and begging to give her the princess. When I didn't, she summoned some guy to fight me, n it felt very much like I was inside a video game. I had to simultaneously fight the guy off and keep the princess safe from the queen, but at this point I was wondering what even is the deal with them. I've heard the queen was a relentless killer, but she seemed more like a desperate mother whose child was stolen. I never found out what the truth was, though. After I killed the guy she summoned the queen came to me like she wanted to hug me, but I was still too scared of her and didn't let her. I didn't see the princess again, I don't know what happened with her. The queen seemed like she wants to take me with her for whatever reason, but again, I was too afraid and confused and lost. And I woke up so idk what was her deal, but she seemed like such an interesting character. I may adopt her as a new OC and develop her story so that it makes sense

[riddleriddles]

ಇ do i wanna know, hozier cover.

pairing. mattheo riddle x hufflepuff!quiet!reader

summary. sometimes, pansy knows exactly how to bring couples together. when mattheo, known for his grumpy mood, finds himself growing closer to a quiet, introspective girl, he must come to terms with feelings he never expected to have.

warnings. a bit of suggestive scene, but nothing explicit

add notes. I feel like my dialogues would never be said in real life.

visit my masterlist :)

ಇ

It was Pansy Parkinson’s birthday. The Parkinson Manor was a spectacle—a grand, ancient, and imposing structure, surrounded by meticulously tended trees. Its tall stone towers stood in stark contrast to the ethereal silver of the moon on that autumnal night, while the crisp air carried the fresh, melancholy scent of fallen leaves. The entrance hall sparkled with the glow of greenish lights that reflected off the polished marble floor. Music flowed through the vast corridors of the manor, mingling with the voices and laughter of the guests. Pansy never did anything halfway, and her seventeenth birthday party was no exception.

The main hall was teeming with Hogwarts students, predominantly Slytherins, although a few figures from other houses stood out, strategically placed. Groups gathered around enchanted tables laden with exquisite appetisers, while others chatted or danced in the centre of the hall beneath the enchanting glow of chandeliers and floating magical candles.

Mattheo Riddle leaned against a wall near the fireplace. His spot had been carefully chosen, allowing him to observe the entire room without drawing attention to himself. A glass of some drink—nearly forgotten in his hand—served more as a distraction than a necessity. His eyes scanned the scene with the detached air of someone watching a mediocre play, clearly indifferent to the excitement around him. He despised parties, but Pansy had been emphatic: “If you don’t show up, I’ll never invite you to anything again, and you’ll have to live with that.”

And so, here he was, enduring the loud music, empty chatter, and the unbearable feeling of being out of place.

The room buzzed with familiar faces: Blaise was chatting with Daphne near the makeshift bar, Draco was laughing at something Theodore had said in a secluded corner, and at the centre of it all, Pansy shone like a star, greeting her guests with a smile that was as rehearsed as it was charming.

Mattheo let out a deep sigh, raising the glass to his lips and sipping half-heartedly, merely to occupy himself. His thoughts drifted to the garden, which promised a quiet, solitary escape—perfect for smoking a cigarette far from the noise and frivolity of the hall.

You entered the party hesitantly, your measured steps and reserved posture betraying your unease. Your eyes scanned the room cautiously, taking in every detail before allowing yourself to fully step in. You clutched a small, delicately wrapped gift in your hands, your arms tucked close to your body as if forming a barrier against the chaos around you.

This wasn’t your kind of place—not in a bad way, just different from what you were used to. Your hair, styled in a carefully crafted half-updo, fell in soft waves over your shoulders, catching the golden light of the chandeliers and the greenish glow of the magical candles scattered around the room. Your pastel yellow dress, a nod to your Hufflepuff identity, was graceful and perfectly suited to the occasion, modest yet elegant without being over the top.

Stepping inside, you carefully shut the door behind you with a soft thud, masked by the music filling the air. You looked around attentively, moving with the grace of someone trying to avoid drawing attention. Your eyes landed on Pansy, who, upon noticing your arrival, quickly made her way over, a radiant smile lighting up her face.

“I’m so glad you came! I’ve been waiting for you,” Pansy exclaimed excitedly, and you smiled shyly, offering her the neatly wrapped gift. She took it with equal enthusiasm and, without missing a beat, guided you with a gentle touch on your arm, introducing you to her closest friends, most of whom you didn’t know—predominantly Slytherins. To anyone watching from afar, you might have seemed out of place, but you nodded politely, feeling quietly pleased to be surrounded by the friends of your close companion.

You tried to adjust to the atmosphere. The party was loud and full of people, but you knew this was exactly the kind of event Pansy loved, and it had been hard to turn down her insistence—especially on such an important occasion as her seventeenth birthday. What you hadn’t anticipated, however, was the intensity of it all: the loud laughter, the conversations about topics you barely understood or didn’t care about, and the overwhelmingly high volume of the music.

“Relax,” Pansy whispered in your ear, giving your shoulder a light squeeze as she noticed your discomfort. “You’re going to have fun, I promise.”

Her words carried a hint of something unspoken, though you didn’t catch it immediately. She continued introducing you to her friends, eventually steering you toward a more secluded corner near the fireplace, where Mattheo Riddle stood leaning against the wall, his expression bored, as though he were merely fulfilling an obligation. Holding a half-filled glass in one hand, his grey eyes scanned the room with disinterest.

“Mattheo!” Pansy’s voice interrupted his reverie, casual but still confident. “I want you to meet someone. This is my friend [Name]. [Name], this is Mattheo.”

Pansy smiled, looking far too pleased with the situation. “I’m sure you two will get along wonderfully!”

“Uh… hi,” you said softly, offering a timid smile as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, revealing a delicate gold moon-shaped earring that Mattheo noticed with mild indifference.

“Hi,” he replied curtly, his tone brief and aloof.

Pansy watched the exchange, clearly unimpressed by the lack of enthusiasm. “Did you know that [Name] loves taking care of magical creatures? And Mattheo, you have an impressive tolerance for people who talk too much—aren’t you two a perfect match?”

“Funny, Pansy,” Mattheo remarked, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head with a trace of amusement in his otherwise dry tone.

“Thanks, it was sincere,” Pansy quipped with a playful grin before stepping away with a conspiratorial air. “Enjoy yourselves!”

With one last smile, she left you both alone, disappearing into the crowd.

For a moment, the sound of the music and the chatter around you filled the silence as you, uneasy with the quiet, fidgeted with the star-shaped pendant on your necklace.

“So…” you began cautiously, looking at Mattheo. “Do you not like parties in general, or just the people who talk too much?”

The question caught him off guard, and he raised an eyebrow, taking a moment to think before answering. “Depends on the party. And the people.”

You let out a soft, almost inaudible laugh, but it was genuine. “I get that. This isn’t really my kind of place either.”

“Then why’d you come?” Mattheo asked, his tone casual but curious, as if waiting for your answer without much urgency.

“Pansy insisted,” you admitted with a small shrug. “And you?”

“Same.”

At that, you felt a little more at ease, tilting your head slightly towards him. “Well, at least we’ve got that in common.”

“Besides Pansy,” he added, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he warmed to the idea that the conversation wasn’t as tedious as he’d expected.

The silence returned, but this time it felt less strained. You leaned against the wall beside him, gazing up at the ceiling, where floating candles with green flames illuminated the room alongside the warm, golden glow of the grand chandelier, while Mattheo’s eyes followed the movement of the partygoers.

Feeling slightly overwhelmed by the commotion, you noticed the atmosphere beginning to feel heavier. The grand and magical hall, while impressive, didn’t make you feel at ease. Mattheo, seemingly indifferent to the pressure of the space, appeared entirely unbothered. So, you decided to suggest something.

“How about we head out to the garden?” you asked timidly, looking up at him. “It’s… quieter, maybe?”

Mattheo, still leaning against the wall with his usual impassive expression, raised an eyebrow. “You really think the garden will be quiet, considering how many people are here?”

You smiled, slightly embarrassed. “It’s worth a try, I guess.”

With a sigh, he slipped a hand into his pocket and pushed himself off the wall, nodding. “Fine. Let’s go.”

The Parkinson mansion’s garden was undeniably stunning, but you barely noticed the perfectly trimmed hedges shaped into geometric designs or the softly glowing magical flowers. Your attention was more on the refreshing coolness of the night air and the silence—a welcome contrast to the chaos inside the hall.

The two of you walked in silence for a while. Mattheo observed you discreetly, noticing how your fingers gently brushed against the petals of the flowers along the path, as if you were connecting with their textures and details. There was no urgency in your steps, and eventually, you reached a secluded corner near an ornate fountain illuminated by floating candles casting dancing reflections on the water. He stopped by a tree, crossing his arms and tilting his head back to look at the starry sky.

“Do you always go to Pansy’s parties?” you asked, finally breaking the silence as you strolled slowly, examining the plants with more interest.

“Not a chance,” he replied with a short laugh, as if the idea were absurd. “I try to avoid them, but she’s always got these… oddly persuasive arguments.”

“Like what?” you pressed, curious.

“Like, ‘if you don’t come, I’ll tell everyone you sketch people in your notebook like a frustrated artist,’” he said, smirking slightly.

You blinked, surprised at the confession, then let out a soft laugh. “You draw?”

Mattheo shrugged, almost defensive. “Sometimes. It’s not a big deal.”

“It doesn’t sound like something to be embarrassed about,” you said simply, your tone free of judgment. Kneeling beside a bush of blueberries that seemed particularly enchanting, their tiny fruits shimmering under the magical light, you added, “Actually, it sounds pretty interesting.”

He frowned slightly, as if unsure how to respond, before muttering, “You haven’t seen it.”

“Maybe,” you replied with a small smile, still studying the delicate berries. “But it’s good to have a hobby. Everyone should have one.”

He remained quiet, thoughtful, as he watched you. There was something about you that felt disconnected from the party—yet perfectly at home here in the garden. The calmness in your movements, even when you seemed shy or slightly flustered, struck him as unusual.

“So, what’s your hobby?” he asked, breaking the silence this time.

You took a moment before answering, as if reflecting. “I suppose it’s taking care of magical creatures… They don’t need explanations. You just feel and understand them.”

He raised an eyebrow, surprised by the clarity in your answer, but didn’t comment straight away. It was rare for someone to talk about something so simple with such genuine passion.

“Fair enough,” he finally said, his voice free of sarcasm but still lacking much emotion, as though he were processing your words.

The silence returned, though it was comfortable now—almost natural. Yet, your curiosity about him grew too strong to ignore.

“Do you go to these parties often?”

“Not at all,” he replied, his tone carrying a faint hint of amusement. “Just every now and then. Pansy’s good at twisting my arm. If I don’t show up, she starts predicting my social death.”

You chuckled lightly, your gaze shifting to him rather than the garden around you. “And you always give in?”

“I’m not great at resisting emotional blackmail,” he admitted with a short, slightly insincere smile. There was a coldness in his comment, as though he didn’t place much value on his presence here. “Pansy has a way of turning invitations into ultimatums.”

The floating candles swayed gently around the fountain, their light casting dancing shadows on the stone. You took a step aside, feeling the cool night breeze against your skin. After a few moments of light-hearted conversation, you realised the dialogue had run its course.

“Maybe we should head back,” you suggested, breaking the silence. “Before Pansy comes looking for us.”

He remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on you. His expression still carried a hint of seriousness, but his eyes had softened somewhat.

“Maybe you’re right,” he finally said, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. “But you decide when to go back, not me.”

You chuckled softly, shyly, as though the conversation had taken an unexpected turn, though it didn’t bother you. “Alright then. Let’s go.”

ಇ

The Slytherin common room was bathed in a cosy silence, broken only by the gentle crackle of the fire. The flames cast flickering shadows across the stone walls, creating an atmosphere that felt entirely separate from the rest of the castle. Mattheo was sprawled across one of the black leather sofas, his posture completely at ease, as though he belonged to the room itself. He twirled his wand idly between his fingers, his sharp gaze lazily drifting over the surroundings, disinterested.

The peace was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of firm, purposeful footsteps echoing off the cold floor. Mattheo didn’t look up—he didn’t need to. Pansy Parkinson always made her presence known. She strode into the room with the kind of authority that promised trouble, her eyes glinting with determination.

“Riddle,” she started, stopping in front of him with her hands firmly planted on her hips. “Saturday. Hogsmeade. You’re coming with me. Theo, Blaise, Luna, and [Name] will be there too.”

Mattheo didn’t even glance up, continuing to spin his wand between his fingers. His lips curved into a faint smirk. “No.”

“No?” Pansy echoed, raising an eyebrow, her expression morphing into one of incredulity. The set of her jaw only made her look more stubborn. “Come on, you haven’t even heard what I—”

“I’ve heard enough,” he cut her off, finally lifting his gaze to meet hers. His voice was dry, laced with boredom. “And the answer is still no. I’m not going, I don’t want to, and I’m not changing my mind.”

Pansy let out a heavy sigh, though the self-satisfied smile creeping onto her lips only deepened Mattheo’s irritation. “You say that now, but come Saturday, you’ll be there.”

Mattheo let out a short, humourless laugh. “Pansy, I’d love to see you try. I’m not Theo, who does everything you say just because he thinks you’re ‘cute.’”

“Thanks for the compliment,” Pansy shot back, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she crossed her arms. “Is this about [Name]? I saw you talking to her in the garden. You actually looked… sociable.”

“And? We exchanged a few words. That doesn’t mean anything.” His tone hardened as he narrowed his eyes, clearly irritated. Leaning back into the sofa, he added flatly, “If this is some attempt to set me up with someone, just give up now. You know I hate that.”

“Merlin, you’re dramatic,” Pansy scoffed, rolling her eyes. “No one’s setting you up. [Name] doesn’t even care if you’re there, to be honest.”

“Brilliant,” he replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “All the more reason for me not to go.”

Pansy let out a long-suffering sigh, though a mischievous smile tugged at her lips. “I know you, Mattheo. You say you won’t go, but come Saturday, you’ll end up tagging along with Blaise and Theo anyway. You need to connect with the world once in a while, you know.”

“I’m perfectly connected right here, thanks,” he shot back, gesturing around the room before rolling his eyes again. “I’d rather stay here than deal with people who think I owe them the courtesy of being interesting.”

Pansy tilted her head slightly, as though considering his words. “You’re so full of yourself. She’s not even thinking about you like that. And you know what? Maybe you should try acting normal around people who don’t fear you because of your surname.”

Mattheo huffed, but before he could muster a retort, Pansy was already making her way up the stairs to the girls’ dormitory. She threw a parting remark over her shoulder, her voice bright with smug amusement. “Saturday, Mattheo. Be there, or I’ll add this to my list of lifelong grudges!”

He stayed where he was, his gaze falling back to the wand in his fingers. It spun faster now, less smoothly than before. Pansy was wrong. He wasn’t going. And if [Name] didn’t care whether he came or not, that was fine by him. A relief, really. A big relief.

ಇ

The streets of Hogsmeade buzzed with chatter and laughter, the crunch of footsteps in the snow, and the sweet smell of warm drinks wafting out of nearby shops. Despite the lively atmosphere, Mattheo would still take this over the castle any day—at least here he wasn’t constantly followed by stares and whispers. He walked with his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his black overcoat, his expression bored, though his sharp eyes missed nothing.

“So,” Blaise started, nudging Theo with his elbow. “Whose brilliant idea was it to drag him out here? Thought Mattheo was allergic to socialising.”

“Don’t start,” Mattheo muttered without even glancing at them. “I’m only here because someone wouldn’t shut up about how this was going to be ‘fun.’”

Theo laughed, unbothered. “It is fun. You should be thanking me.”

Mattheo opened his mouth to fire back but was cut off as the three of them rounded a corner and found themselves face-to-face with Pansy, Luna, and [Name] standing outside the Three Broomsticks.

“Oh, what are you lot doing here?” Pansy exclaimed, her voice dripping with faux surprise. Only Mattheo caught the teasing glint in her eye.

“Pansy,” he began, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t even try it.”

“Try what?” She blinked at him innocently. “This is pure coincidence.”

Mattheo was about to argue when his attention was pulled to Blaise and Luna. The moment they spotted each other, Luna lit up with a bright smile, and Blaise… Well, he looked like someone had hit him with a softening charm. It was rare to see him like that—genuinely smitten.

Luna stepped closer immediately, lightly tugging Blaise by the arm as she spoke. Whatever she said made him laugh, low and almost shy, a side of him Mattheo hardly ever saw. Blaise was usually so composed, but with Luna, he seemed… different.

That’s when it hit Mattheo. This wasn’t some trap for him. It was for them.

He glanced at Theo, who was watching the scene with a smug smile. Theo shrugged in response, as if to say, Don’t look at me, this wasn’t my idea.

Pansy, however, wasn’t even trying to hide her satisfaction, though she kept her focus firmly on Luna and Blaise.

Mattheo sighed quietly. Right. Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe this whole outing really was just about those two.

But then his eyes landed on you. You stood a little behind Pansy, a small, almost shy smile playing on your lips as you watched Blaise and Luna. You didn’t seem out of place, exactly—just quiet, like someone unsure where they fit into the group dynamic.

He looked away before you noticed, but Pansy, ever observant, caught the movement.

“Well,” she said, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “Since we’re all here, why don’t we do something together?”

Mattheo was already preparing to decline, but something stopped him. Maybe it was the way you, distracted, reached out to catch the falling snowflakes in your hand, that soft, almost enchanted smile still on your face.

He frowned. What was so special about snow, anyway?

“Relax, Riddle,” Pansy said, pulling him back to reality. “I didn’t plan this.”

“You planned this,” he replied flatly.

“And if I did?” She held her hands up, her smile infuriatingly casual. “It’s not the end of the world. Try being social for once.”

Before he could respond, Theo slung an arm casually around his shoulders, as if to stop him from bolting. “Not every day we hang out with such a… diverse group.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes but didn’t bother arguing. Judging by how glued Blaise and Luna were to each other, it was pointless. Still, the way Pansy kept glancing at you before whispering something to Theo made him suspicious.

You, meanwhile, seemed completely oblivious to it all. You adjusted your scarf, your attention caught by a nearby shop window where tiny enchanted ice figurines were dancing.

“Alright,” Theo said, breaking the moment of silence. “So, what’s first on the agenda?”

Mattheo let out a heavy sigh and glanced over at you. You were standing a bit apart from the group, but somehow, your eyes met his. A small, tentative smile crossed your face, the kind that seemed unsure of its place, before you quickly looked away.

He considered walking away, but something made him stay. Maybe it was the sense that Pansy would never let him hear the end of it if he left.

“The Three Broomsticks?” he suggested, his voice laced with reluctance. “If we’re doing this, might as well get it over with.”

Pansy’s smile widened, like she knew exactly what he was thinking, but to his annoyance, she said nothing.

ಇ

The Three Broomsticks was as crowded as Mattheo had expected. The buzz of conversations and laughter mingled with the clatter of mugs and the sweet smell of butterbeer, creating a lively, almost chaotic atmosphere. For most, it was a place to forget about the pressures of school, but for Mattheo, it felt suffocating. He stood near the entrance, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat, ready to leave at any moment.

“See? Told you this would be fun,” Theo said, flashing a carefree grin as he dropped into a chair beside Pansy.

“If this is your idea of fun, I’d rather be back at the castle,” Mattheo replied flatly, choosing the chair furthest from the table.

Pansy, ever the orchestrator, settled in beside Theo and shot a smug look at Mattheo. “Oh, stop being dramatic. You’ll survive.”

Luna and Blaise took their seats next, the pair seemingly lost in their own little world. Blaise leaned in to whisper something, and Luna let out a soft, musical laugh. Mattheo rolled his eyes.

“They’ve already forgotten we’re here,” he muttered, tapping a keyring against the table in an almost absentminded rhythm.

Pansy smirked. “Leave them be. They’re cute.”

Mattheo huffed but didn’t bother replying. His eyes drifted across the room, eventually landing on you. You had chosen a seat near the window, detached from the group’s chatter. The soft glow of candlelight reflected in the glass as you gazed out at the falling snow, your expression calm and contemplative, as though soaking in every detail of the world outside.

For a moment, Mattheo found himself wondering what was so fascinating about the snow. It was just snow—falling endlessly, especially this time of year. But to you, it seemed to hold some deeper meaning, something he couldn’t quite grasp. You watched the flurries with a quiet intensity he found… puzzling.

“Paying attention, or has the snow got you too?” Theo teased, nudging Mattheo as he caught him staring.

Mattheo shot him a sharp look. “Shut up.”

Glancing at you again, he lowered his voice. “Why’s she so quiet?”

Pansy, ever observant, turned her gaze from you to the two whispering boys. “Because that’s how she is. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“Very funny,” Mattheo shot back, narrowing his eyes at her.

Theo chuckled. “She just doesn’t like all the noise. Makes me wonder, though… why’s she here with us?”

“Because you invited her,” Mattheo said dryly, his tone clipped. Theo shrugged, unbothered.

“She’s here for Pansy. And maybe because sometimes people like to shake things up a bit,” Theo replied, as if it were obvious.

Mattheo didn’t respond, his attention drawn back to you. You were still lost in the view outside, but you must have felt the weight of their stares because, after a moment, you turned to face the group. Your smile was small and uncertain, a touch of embarrassment in your eyes. “What?” you asked quietly, your voice soft and cautious.

“Mattheo thinks you’re mysterious,” Theo said boldly, grinning as he leaned back lazily in his chair.

You frowned, your gaze shifting to Mattheo, who let out an irritated scoff. “That’s not what I said.”

“No need to explain yourself, Riddle,” Pansy chimed in with a sly grin, hiding behind the menu.

You gave a shy smile, clearly flustered, and buried yourself in the menu as if it were a shield. Mattheo caught the faint blush creeping across your cheeks, and for some inexplicable reason, it made him glance away, feeling oddly unsettled.

“What’re we ordering?” Blaise asked suddenly, breaking the tension and redirecting the group’s focus.

While the others debated their orders, Mattheo remained silent, his fingers tapping against the table. He didn’t want to admit it, but there was something about you that left him uneasy—not in a bad way, but in a way that made him feel restless, like he couldn’t quite figure out what to do with himself.

The waiter arrived, looking a little tired but polite, his quill poised to take orders. Theo and Blaise rattled off their choices with ease, but when it was your turn, you hesitated, your voice so soft that the waiter leaned in.

“Sorry, could you repeat that?” the waiter asked, his tone patient.

Mattheo noticed the discomfort on your face as you tried again, your cheeks flushing with self-consciousness. It was such a simple moment, but something about it made Mattheo feel compelled to step in.

“She’ll have a butterbeer,” he said abruptly, leaning back in his chair as if it were no big deal. “And I’ll have the same.”

The waiter blinked, then nodded. “Right, and the rest of you?”

You glanced at Mattheo, your surprise evident. For a moment, he wondered if he’d made things worse. But then you murmured, “Thanks,” so quietly it was almost inaudible. Your smile was small and a little shy, but there was something about it—something genuine—that made Mattheo’s chest tighten unexpectedly.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and while it wasn’t much, it was enough to make Mattheo look away, feeling a strange heat rising in his neck. What the hell was that?

He focused on the table instead, letting his gaze fall on Pansy. She was watching him with her usual smirk, the kind that screamed, I know something you don’t. That look alone was enough to irritate him further.

He clenched his jaw, determined to brush it off. Whatever Pansy thought she saw, it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like him to get caught up in whatever game she might be playing. And yet, he couldn’t shake the thought of that small, genuine smile you’d given him—or the way it had made him feel completely out of his depth.

Later, the group had finished their meal and was now strolling leisurely through the softly lit streets of Hogsmeade. Snow fell in delicate flakes, blanketing the rooftops with a fine layer, creating a scene that was ordinary but, in your eyes, uniquely enchanting.

Mattheo walked in silence, his hands casually shoved into his pockets, while you stayed a little ahead with Luna, Blaise, and Pansy. The latter seemed particularly alert, as if she were plotting something in her mind.

“Let’s stop by Honeydukes,” Pansy announced suddenly, pausing beside Blaise and Luna. “I’m absolutely craving those ginger caramels.”

“Now? is probably a nightmare,” Theo grumbled, though his protest was pointless as Pansy was already dragging him firmly towards the shop’s entrance.

Before you could say a word, she turned to you and Mattheo with a sly, self-assured grin.

“How about you two check out the bookshop? We’ll catch up in a bit!”

You hesitated for a moment, glancing uncertainly in the direction of the bookshop and then back at Pansy. But she didn’t wait for a reply. Without giving you a chance to argue, she disappeared into Honeydukes with Theo in tow.

Mattheo let out a quiet sigh, his expression laced with a knowing irritation at Pansy’s obvious intentions. But he didn’t comment. Instead, he gave a small nod towards the bookshop.

“Fancy it?” he asked, his tone straightforward.

You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice to come out steady, and followed him towards the shop.

The interior of the bookshop was warm and serene. Tall shelves were crammed with books, from old, worn-out tomes to pristine, freshly bound editions. The air was filled with the unmistakable scent of aged paper, and the soft glow of strategically placed lamps added to the cosy atmosphere.

Walking slowly down the aisles, you trailed your fingers over the spines of books, savouring the texture of each one. Mattheo had wandered to a quieter section, where he pulled an old, dark-covered book from the shelf and examined it with mild curiosity.

“I’ve read that one,” you remarked casually, stepping closer.

Mattheo looked up at you, his expression faintly surprised. “Have you?”

You nodded, your eyes lighting up shyly but genuinely. “It’s really good, though a bit sad.”

He shrugged, placing the book back and reaching for another.

“That one too,” you said, glancing at the new book in his hand.

He raised an eyebrow, holding the book for a moment before putting it back and selecting yet another.

“Oh, that one’s brilliant!” you exclaimed, a spark of enthusiasm slipping through. “A bit heavy in parts, but it’s one of my favourites.”

Mattheo paused, studying the book in his hand before looking back at you.

“Have you read all of these?” he asked, disbelief evident in his tone.

You hesitated, your gaze flickering away briefly before meeting his again, your cheeks warming under his scrutiny.

“Almost all of them,” you admitted softly. “I just… really like reading.”

A faint, genuine smile tugged at Mattheo’s lips as he shook his head slightly.

“All right,” he said, holding up another book. “How about this one? Have you read it?” He revealed the title: The Great Gatsby.

Your eyes lit up instantly as you nodded. “Yes. It’s a classic. Sad, but so good.”

Mattheo let out a short sigh, glancing at the book with more interest. “Do you cry at all of them, or just the ones I pick because I like the cover?”

Your timid but sincere smile answered before your words. “Only the good ones.”

For a moment, he just watched you, his eyes lingering as you studied the shelves around you with quiet fascination.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence. “Think I’ll like this one?”

You tilted your head thoughtfully. “Depends. Do you like happy endings?”

Mattheo chuckled lowly, a hint of dry humour in his voice. “Wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

Your expression softened at his response, but you didn’t say anything right away. Instead, you looked up at him, as though trying to understand him better. He shifted uncomfortably under your gaze and glanced away.

“I’ll take it,” he muttered, holding the book firmly. “If it makes me cry, it’s your fault.”

You laughed quietly, the sound lighter this time, as he tucked the book under his arm.

“Do you read much?” you asked, your voice still a little shy as your eyes lifted to meet his.

“Not really.”

The moment was abruptly interrupted by Pansy’s familiar voice cutting through the quiet. She appeared suddenly beside Mattheo, a smug smile on her face.

“You two are taking ages,” she teased, throwing a loaded glance between the two of you. “Buying a book or writing one?”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, refusing to dignify her with an answer, while you glanced away, feeling slightly flustered. Pansy’s satisfied grin made it clear she’d gotten exactly what she wanted. Without ceremony, she tugged Mattheo towards the counter to pay for his book. You followed quietly as they left the shop, snow beginning to fall again outside.

ಇ

Once again, the group had gathered, this time in a more comfortable setting, as if they had already gotten used to the rhythm of their regular outings. The Slytherin common room felt cosy and calm, bathed in the soft light of the fire crackling in the hearth, casting a warm, golden glow across the space. Theo and Pansy were chatting animatedly about something trivial, while Blaise and Luna stayed, as usual, wrapped up in their own bubble, oblivious to the world around them.

You and Mattheo, however, were more on the edge of the group, tucked away in a quiet corner where silence hung comfortably in the air. He was staring into the flames, his mind distant, while you flicked through a book, your eyes quickly scanning the shelves of volumes in the common room.

It was you who broke the silence, your voice soft, laced with your usual curiosity.

“Have you finished that book, Mattheo?”

He gave you a look after a brief pause, responding casually.

“Yeah, it was quick to read, just like Cat’s Cradle.”

“You’ve read Cat’s Cradle?” you asked, surprised, your eyes lighting up instantly at the thought that he might be interested in such a quirky book.

Mattheo nodded with a relaxed gesture.

“Mm-hm.”

“I love that book,” you said enthusiastically. “I thought you said you didn’t read much.”

He laughed and shrugged, not giving it much thought.

“Well, what’s ‘much’?”

You laughed, satisfied with the answer, before diving back into your love for the book.

“Cat’s Cradle is just so chaotic, so human, you know? Like a distorted mirror of ourselves.”

Mattheo furrowed his brow, now visibly more interested.

“Human?”

“Yeah,” you continued, gesturing lightly. “The way Vonnegut portrays people, with all their confusing flaws—it’s so real. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but still, it’s genius.”

Mattheo watched you for a moment, trying to understand your perspective before replying in a teasing tone.

“I’m not sure ‘genius’ is the right word.”

You let out a soft laugh, not offended.

“No? And how would you describe it?”

He shrugged, his eyes drifting to the window beside him, watching the snow fall gently outside.

“It’s more like… a bunch of people getting into trouble because they’re too thick to see what’s right in front of them.”

You tilted your head slightly, amused by the simplicity of his argument.

“Exactly. That’s what makes it genius.”

Mattheo blinked, clearly impressed by your response. He wasn’t sure if you were joking or if you really believed it.

“You think stupidity is genius?”

“Nooo,” you said with a sideways smile. “But it makes us reflect on that human stupidity, like a portrait of our own contradictions, in a raw way. It’s uncomfortable, but in a weird way, it’s beautiful.”

Mattheo fell silent for a moment, processing your words.

“Beautiful?” He raised an eyebrow, as if trying to decide whether the comment was fascinating or just plain weird.

“Yes, beautiful,” you insisted, your tone calm but firm. “I think there’s beauty in accepting that we’re flawed, that we’re always trying, even when we know we might fail.”

He let out a low, almost incredulous laugh.

“You’ve got a peculiar way of looking at things.”

“Peculiar?” You laughed back, not losing the lightness of the moment. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Before he could respond, you leaned forward slightly, without thinking too much, and with a gentle gesture, you brushed a stray curl of hair from his face. Your touch was so natural that he barely had time to process it. Your fingers slid smoothly through his dark hair, pushing the curl away, and you did it with such ease that it felt completely normal to you. But for Mattheo, the action was enough to freeze him for a moment.

Mattheo froze. His mind instantly went on alert. The touch, though brief, had triggered a cascade of disconnected thoughts that he had no idea how to sort or deal with at that moment.

You, completely unaware of the inner battle Mattheo was facing, turned your attention back to the book you were skimming through, still intrigued by the shelves in the Slytherin common room. They were filled with delicate details, snakes and symbols, which gave the place a peculiar touch.

Mattheo, on the other hand, remained silent, lost in his own thoughts. He tried to push the moment’s impact aside, but it seemed impossible. The touch was still fresh on his skin, and the echo of your words about the book lingered in his mind.

ಇ

The night was quiet and peaceful at Hogwarts Castle. Mattheo lay in his dormitory, the soft light of the moon streaming through the window, casting a subtle glow over the room. His mind, however, was restless, filled with thoughts that were hard to sort. Almost mechanically, he reached for his wand, and with a subtle motion, began to move it, calling the music.

The first notes of “Crash Into Me” began to fill the room, softly, as Dave Matthews’ voice echoed through the space, enveloping him in a familiar melody. The song seeped into him like a comforting whisper, and something in it gripped him almost viscerally. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to be consumed by the music, and, without knowing why, raised his wand again to put the track on repeat.

The words of the song began to take on more meaning, subtly echoing within him, much like the thoughts swirling in his mind that he couldn’t quite organise. It was as if the song spoke directly to him, not in a clear and direct way, but through its rhymes and melody, something in between the lines made him think of you. Your calm presence, yet shrouded in mystery, took shape in his mind.

He turned over in bed, still immersed in confusing thoughts, trying to understand the nameless feeling that overtook him. What was this unease? The music seemed to break something inside him, as if it were unveiling parts of himself he didn’t know existed.

As the chords of the song filled the space around him, a quiet exhaustion began to settle in. He surrendered to the melody, letting himself drift, without haste or resistance. The last thing he thought of before falling asleep was your face.

In his dream, you were beneath the Astronomy Tower. The stars watched silently as you leaned against the balustrade, your hair softly shimmering, floating with the night’s breeze. They saw when you approached him, and the world around seemed to shrink, as if everything became insignificant. You kissed him, a simple, gentle kiss, incredibly soft, full of sincerity. When you pulled away, his eyes opened.

The song “Crash Into Me” still played in his ears, but the sensation of the kiss, the soft touch of your lips, lingered with him, even though the dream dissipated as quickly as it had come. He lay there, motionless, not knowing exactly when he had been struck. The confusion that had once dominated his thoughts now seemed entwined with that fleeting memory, and he allowed himself to feel.

ಇ

Theo’s dormitory was as cosy as ever, lit only by the bedside lamp, casting a soft yellow glow that created an intimate atmosphere. The lazy tendrils of cigarette smoke drifted in the air, mixing with the low hum of music playing from a small gramophone in the corner. Lorenzo was slouched on the sofa, his feet carelessly propped up on the coffee table, while Theo, seated on the floor with his back against the bed, took long drags from his cigarette, releasing the smoke in the air as if following a ritual.

Pansy, meanwhile, leaned against an armchair, distractedly fiddling with her wand. Mattheo remained on the outskirts, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and visibly more distant than usual.

“So,” Pansy began, breaking the silence with a mischievous smile playing on her lips, though her tone remained casual, “I’m thinking of organising another group trip to Hogsmeade next Saturday. You coming?”

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, sceptical. “Who’s going?”

Pansy shrugged nonchalantly. “Me, obviously, Theo, Blaise, Lorenzo, Daphne… if she’s not busy.”

He gave a small nod, considering the idea. Maybe getting out a bit wouldn’t be so bad, even if he wasn’t exactly in the mood.

“And [Name],” Pansy added casually, throwing him a sly sidelong glance.

The effect was immediate. Mattheo froze, quickly averting his gaze. “Ah… no, I don’t think I’ll be going, then.”

Pansy stared at him, taken aback. “You’re not?”

“I’m just not in the mood,” he replied flatly, still avoiding her gaze.

“Not in the mood or running from her?” Pansy pressed, her tone sharp. She uncrossed her arms and stepped away from the armchair, facing him head-on.

He let out a humourless laugh, pushing away from the wall. “Oh, spare me, Pansy. This is just one of your dumb ideas to try and push me onto one of your friends. I’ve told you, it’s not going to work.”

“Push you onto my friends?” she repeated, incredulous, the disbelief clear in her voice. “Merlin’s beard, do you even hear what you’re saying? I’m just organising a trip, it’s not your bloody wedding!”

“Oh, right,” he shot back, his voice rising slightly. “You think I don’t notice? You’re always trying to set people up, like it’s some kind of game. But this isn’t some stupid romance novel. And honestly? She’s none of that, not worth the hassle.”

The silence that followed was thick, almost tangible. Even Lorenzo, who had seemed absorbed in his own thoughts, lifted his gaze, surprised by the bitterness in Mattheo’s voice. Pansy stood still for a moment before letting out a bitter laugh.

“Not worth the hassle?” she repeated, each word laced with icy venom, as she stepped right up to him. “Do you have any idea what utter rubbish you’ve just said?”

Mattheo tried to hold her stare, but there was something in her stance that unsettled him.

“You don’t even believe that,” she continued, her voice firm now. “You’re so terrified of the idea of liking her that you’d rather say something vile like that than admit it to yourself. But guess what, Mattheo? It doesn’t change a thing.”

He crossed his arms, frustration clearly etched on his face. “I’m not scared of anything. You’re the one harassing me with this ridiculous conversation.”

“Ridiculous?” Pansy raised her voice, frustration seeping through every word. “You’re the one acting ridiculous! As if liking someone is some kind of weakness. It’s pathetic, actually—it’s so sad, it’s almost funny.”

“Oh, fuck off, Pansy,” he snapped, his anger boiling over.

She laughed, a sarcastic chuckle escaping her. “I’m just trying to stop you from being an idiot. But, then again, maybe you don’t deserve someone like her. Maybe she’s too good for you, yeah?”

Mattheo clenched his jaw, irritation flashing across his face before he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

In the stillness of his own dormitory, he threw himself onto the bed, his chest still heaving from the argument. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to organise his thoughts, but Pansy’s words continued to echo in his mind like an unshakable spell.

“Maybe she’s too good for you.”

He knew he shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t true, and he knew it. She was worth the effort, without a doubt. He remembered the way she spoke about books, how her eyes lit up with passion for things he didn’t even bother to notice. She was kind, funny, incredibly genuine, and, above all, special.

With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Pansy was right. He was an idiot. And, worse yet, an idiot in love.

ಇ

The pub in Hogsmeade was packed, but the noise around Jasmine felt distant as she watched the group of friends play pool with curiosity. The soft lighting gave the place a warm, inviting atmosphere, while the low music in the background punctuated the occasional laughter of Theo and Lorenzo, who were arguing about who the better player was.

Mattheo kept his gaze fixed on you, knowing there was no escaping this. He was already falling, and he knew it. Rather than resist, he decided to enjoy the moment. There was something about your cautious yet charming manner that stirred him in a way he couldn’t quite understand. But soon he realised there was no need to comprehend it. It was as if the fall was inevitable, and somehow, the view would be worth it. All that was left for him to do was relax and let it happen. Maybe it was time to be bolder. Let the fall happen. He was ready for whatever came next and wanted to see how far it could go.

“Go on, who’s next?” Theo asked, twirling the cue stick with a teasing smile, aiming it at you.

“Definitely not me,” you muttered instantly, shrugging behind your butterbeer.

“Oh, come on,” Pansy teased, smiling. “You’ve never played?”

You shook your head, feeling a little out of place. “No idea how to play.”

Before Pansy could insist, Mattheo pushed off from the wall where he had been leaning, arms casually crossed, and approached. “I’ll teach you.”

You looked up at him, surprised. “You don’t have to, I—”

“Come here,” he interrupted, leaving no room for protest. He reached out and, before you could object, gently took hold of your wrist, guiding you to the right spot at the table.

Frozen, you watched him as if he’d just cast a spell. There was something so natural about the gesture – as though you’d shared this kind of proximity for years – that it left you speechless.

“Grab the cue,” he instructed, his voice low and slightly husky. You obeyed, holding the cue with clear hesitation.

Mattheo took a step back, so close that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. “Like this,” he said, adjusting his hands over yours. His fingers were firm but didn’t squeeze; the touch felt casual, yet it carried an intimacy that made you blush instantly.

He tilted his head, his voice close to your ear. “You need to align with the ball.”

His breath seemed to brush against your skin, and your heart raced. “Right… okay.”

He chuckled softly. “Relax, you’re all tense.”

“I’m not tense!” you protested, though the nervousness in your voice gave you away.

“Of course not,” he teased, shifting his hands slightly to adjust the position. “Now aim here.”

Biting your lip, you tried to focus, even though the closeness made it nearly impossible. The sound of his voice, the way he leaned in, his firm yet careful touch – it was all making your mind spin.

“Ready?” he asked, and you nodded, feeling your face heat up.

With his help, you moved the cue forward, striking the ball harder than you expected. It rolled across the table, hitting a few others before dropping into one of the pockets.

“See?” he said, stepping back slightly but keeping his hand near yours. “That wasn’t so hard.”

You laughed nervously, too shy to meet his eyes. “I think it was more you than me.”

“Maybe,” he replied casually, but his gaze was now locked on yours.

You noticed he was still holding your hand, even though it wasn’t necessary anymore, and for a moment, you were completely speechless. When he finally let go, the touch seemed to linger.

“Next,” he said, handing the cue to Theo, who was already laughing.

You stepped away from the table, trying to regain your composure, but your heart was still racing. Pansy watched you with a mischievous smile, but said nothing – which, in some way, was even more embarrassing.

Mattheo, now leaning back against the wall again, looked relaxed, though a subtle smile played on his lips. He knew exactly what he’d done – and he seemed to be enjoying it.

The night was light, filled with laughter and pool shots. You still felt a bit embarrassed about the last shot, about Mattheo’s unexpected touch, and the way he seemed so at ease. The way he approached so naturally, as if there was an intimacy between you two that you didn’t know how to handle, made you nervous, but also… curious.

At one point, you stepped away to grab the drink you’d left on the table, and Mattheo was right behind you, not wasting a second before taking the empty glass from your hand.

“I’ll get you another,” he said, flashing a casual smile.

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him and then at the empty glass he’d taken from your hand. “Hey, I can do it myself.”

He shrugged as he walked away. “So what? Let me do it for you.”

You stared at him as he made his way to the bar, wanting to protest, but knowing he probably wouldn’t care. He was back quickly, drink in hand, placing it gently in front of you.

“Here,” he said, smiling tranquilly.

Still unsure how to react, you responded, “You really don’t listen, do you?”

He laughed easily and sat beside you. “I listen, I just don’t care. And let’s be honest,” he chuckled softly, “you’re not exactly good at hiding that you like it when I do things for you.”

Your face flushed, but you weren’t sure whether you were more surprised by the comment or by how comfortable he seemed with the situation. You tried to change the subject, though your voice still sounded hesitant. “I really could’ve filled my own glass.”

“Sure,” he interrupted with a sly grin, “but I wanted to do it.”

Not knowing how to respond, you looked down, crossing your legs and resting the drink on your thigh, unsure of how to act when Mattheo was messing with your composure. But secretly, you were enjoying this new side of him – unsure of how to react, but liking it all the same.

“I know what I’m doing,” you whispered, more to yourself.

“I know, princess,” he replied with an easy grin, “but I like doing it.”

ಇ

As time passed, your meetings became more frequent. The group hangouts gradually gave way to moments alone, and the relationship between you two became more comfortable and intimate. Being in each other’s company felt natural, easy, almost like an extension of everyday life. Mattheo’s behaviour grew more spontaneous, with fewer of the usual walls he built up when you were around. And it wasn’t just you who noticed; the entire group of friends could see it too.

One night, you were in Mattheo’s dorm. The atmosphere was calm and welcoming, with the scent of scented candles he’d started using now permanently filling the room. They were burning all around, three on the dresser and others on the bedside table. Meanwhile, Mattheo was rummaging through the wardrobe shelves and found a few hidden bottles. It was cheap wine that Theo had bought to settle a silly bet, but had forgotten there. Mattheo remembered it like it had happened yesterday. He looked at the bottle with a smile, laughing to himself. You raised an eyebrow, suspicious.

“I can’t believe you’re going to drink that,” you said, laughing lightly while lying on the black carpet in the middle of the room, fiddling with the radio.

Mattheo shrugged, flashing a carefree smile. “Of course I am, it’s here, right?”

You gave him a sceptical look, but couldn’t help but laugh at his audacity. “That’s a bit weird.”

“It’s nothing,” he replied, walking over and sitting beside you, holding the bottle out. “Try it, go on.”

Hesitant, but tempted, you sat next to him, smiling nervously. You took the bottle from his hand, laughing before bringing it to your lips, keeping your eyes fixed on his.

After a bottle and a half shared between you, the effects of the wine were already clear. The conversation flowed easily, words coming out freely, and you both laughed at anything, letting yourselves enjoy the sense of freedom the moment brought.

Then Mattheo stood up, walked over to the radio, and adjusted the music. Fleetwood Mac, one of his favourite bands, and he knew it well. The soft notes filled the room, creating a relaxing and warm atmosphere. He smiled at you, stood up from the carpet, and waited for you to follow. “Don’t you want to dance?”

You looked at him hesitantly, but he was watching you as if daring you. It didn’t take long before you got up, still a bit loose from the alcohol, and started dancing awkwardly, singing along with Stevie Nicks, a silly grin on your face. Mattheo held your hands and settled on the bed, watching your dance. There was no pretension; it was a spontaneous dance, a bit off-beat, but genuine.

Mattheo watched you with a satisfied smile, but his gaze revealed something more. He saw you differently. You moved with clumsy grace, not caring about the rhythm, and he was completely captivated by the way you threw yourself into the moment, without a hint of self-consciousness. Your movements, though not sensual, were, in that instant, the most captivating thing he’d ever seen. You were so at ease, as if you were dancing just for him. And, in a way, you were.

You laughed, unaware of the effect you had, how your hair shone and moved perfectly with the rhythm of your motions. That sight, so natural, only drew him in more. When the music finally ended, you stopped, out of breath, and looked at him with a mischievous grin, holding onto his shoulders while he watched you from below, his expression one of admiration.

“See? Was this what you wanted?” you asked, regaining your composure, but with a faint blush on your cheeks.

“More than I expected.”

The music still filled the room, but slowly, it became a distant echo, overshadowed by the tension that now dominated the space. The air felt heavier, each heartbeat ringing in your ears as you locked eyes with him. Your hands still rested on his shoulders, and despite the relaxed smile that appeared on his face, there was something in Mattheo’s gaze that made the lightness of the moment take on a new weight.

His eyes were fixed on yours, serious, intense, filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher. Something in that look seemed ready to spill over, and before you could even question it, the space between you two was vanishing. Mattheo moved, his strong hands reaching up to cradle your face, holding it with a gentleness that contrasted with the fervour in his expression. The world around you faded in the blink of an eye. No more cheap wine, no more candles, no more Stevie Nicks in the background. It was just the two of you.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, filling the silence between you. His gaze didn’t waver, and the proximity made each word feel even more intimate, almost like a confession. A shiver ran down your spine, but you didn’t respond. There were no words that could capture what was going through your mind.

When he finally closed the remaining space between you, his lips found yours, and everything seemed to fall into place. The kiss began firm but soon softened, as if he was exploring each detail, testing, savouring the moment with an almost palpable intensity.

His hands didn’t stay still. One slid to your waist, fingers slipping beneath your shirt, touching your warm skin with a mixture of firmness and care. The other moved up to your neck, fingers light as a caress, but determined, keeping you close, as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t slip away.

When his lips left yours, it was only to trace a deliberate path along your jawline, down to the delicate spot on your neck, where he could feel your pulse quicken. Each kiss was meticulous, almost reverent, as you closed your eyes, surrendering to the sensation. The softness of his touch seemed to contradict the intensity he maintained with every movement, and it made the moment all the more overwhelming.

Then, unexpectedly, Mattheo made a quick movement, pulling you onto the bed.

He was firm, but careful, lying you down with precision and security, as if guiding you through a dance he had already mentally rehearsed. Your bodies moulded into the surroundings, as if the moment had been waiting for you both.

Mattheo pulled back slightly, his hands slowly lifting your shirt, with a near ceremonial slowness. There was no rush, just a clear intention in every gesture, as though he was absorbing the significance of what was happening. His eyes scanned your body, but not with haste or crude desire. There was something almost devotional in that gaze, something that made your breath quicken and slow at the same time.

His lips descended to your stomach, touching it with the lightness of a promise. Each kiss seemed to hold something unspoken, something long-kept. Mattheo's fingers traced slow paths along your skin, as though he wanted to memorise every detail, while you let out a sigh that seemed to echo in the intimacy of the room.

For a brief moment, he lifted his head, meeting your gaze. His eyes sparkled with a mix of desire and playfulness, and a light smile curved his lips before he leaned in again, the kisses resuming their course, now with even more care, as if each touch was a silent vow of adoration.

[wileys-russo]

blurb idea! maybe mila gets into readers makeup and heels and clothes ? i'm thinking she's gotten herself a red lipstick and had fun 😂

a little red lipstick II l.williamson

part of the milaverse a little red lipstick II l.williamson

"-and it is my turn to pay next time less!" you warned your best friend who grinned as she shut off her engine in your driveway. "snooze you lose." the blonde teased, the two of you returning from a much needed spa day which the footballer had paid for before you could even blink.

"consider it your gift for giving me the most adorable god daughter in the world." the striker winked, locking her car as you made your way up to the front door, not even grabbing your house keys out before it swung open.

"mama you're back! and you brought aunty lessi!" mila cheered happily, charging forward as you were rendered a little speechless by her appearance, alessia scooping her up as the two of you

"i see someone has gotten into her mama's makeup!" alessia didn't even try to hide her amusement at the sight of the very colourful four year old in her arms. "and heels! but can't run in em." mila huffed with a scowl.

"bubba where did you-why did you-" you grabbed her face in your hands, eyes scanning the somewhat clown like makeup slapped across her eyes, cheeks and lips.

"wanna be like you mama! a very pretty girl." mila beamed poking at your own cheeks. "someones been listening to leah." alessia smirked, quickly putting your daughter down after the unimpressed glare shot her way.

"come look at my art! did you and mummy a special picture." the two of you lurched forward unexpectantly as mila grabbed a hand each and tugged you both down the hallway.

though the moment you stepped inside your bedroom, the somewhat adorable innocence of your daughter playing dress up fell dead in the water.

"oo and that is aunty lessi's cue to leave! mil i will come and pick you up for our special aquarium date tomorrow...if you live to see it." alessia mumbled the last part, ducking down to kiss your daughters cheek and not even wasting her breath addressing you as your entire focus was trained to your once cream white wall.

"bye aunty lessi! love you!" mila called after the striker who was down the hall and out the door in a millisecond, clueless to your emotions as you stared in disbelief at the wall.

"mila. wheres mummy?" you asked calmly, jaw clenched and exhaling slowly through your nostrils, eyes still locked on the patterns scribbled in bright red lipsticks all over the once clean wall.

"playing her games and yelling at aunty gee! oh mummy said a bad word, a lot of bad words." mila relayed as you inhaled deeply, very slowly lowering yourself down to be at her level.

"mila. bubba what you did to the wall? was very naughty. when you want to draw you have your coloring books and your pens, you only use those, and never ever on a wall and especially not with mamas makeup. do you understand?" you spoke calmly but firmly, your stomach flipping at the immediate way the four year olds face fell and her bottom lip began to quiver.

"i'm sorry!" you almost fell backwards as tiny limbs locked around your neck in a steel tight hug. "i know. but what happens when we're naughty mil?" you gently wrenched her arms off you as much as it killed you to do so, using your thumb to wipe away the tears gathering in the corner of her eyes.

"timeout?" "timeout." you confirmed with a nod, standing back up and offering the tiny blonde your hand, preparing yourself for a tantrum but to both your surprise and relief it never came, mila taking your hand and allowing you to lead her away to the timeout corner.

"you're four years old, so four minutes. you stay sitting here with your bum on the floor and your back on the wall and you do not move until mama comes back and gets you, okay?" you reminded, mila nodding with a little half sob and sniffle, and again it took all of your willpower not to just crumble and scoop her back up.

but you knew you couldn't or else she'd never learn right from wrong, so with a countdown set on your phone you left her be, stomping away instead to go and strangle your wife who sure enough was exactly where you thought she'd be.

"leah catherine!" you yelled, almost kicking in the half open door to her office as the blonde didn't even flinch, back to you and clunky dyson headphones covering her ears, fifa loaded on the monitor in front of her as she sat with her feet up on her desk.

but that ignorance didn't last more than a few seconds once you'd burst in, headphones yanked right off her as the girl let out a yell of surprise, chair toppling over as your wife went thumping to the ground.

"babe what the fuck!" leah groaned clutching her side where the arm of the chair had dug in, scrambling for the controller which you swiftly kicked out of the way.

"i'm in the middle of a game!" leah whined, mouth forming an o at the way you stepped forward and yanked the chord out from the console sending everything black.

"where is our daughter leah?" "she's playing dress up! now why the hell did you-" "where is she playing leah?"

but finally glancing up and seeing the all too familiar look in your eyes your wife fell silent. "i'm beginning to think i'm in trouble." the blonde smiled nervously as she sat up and you laughed bitterly.

"oh that is not even the half of it leah!" but before you could really launch head first into the colossal lecture lingering on the tip of your tongue the timer for mila's timeout went.

"up. on your feet. come with me right now!"

scrambling and falling over herself in her haste your wife scurried after you as you stomped out of the office and back down the hall, coming to a stop back in front of your very somber looking four year old.

"aw bubba why are you crying what hap-" "leah!"

at the hiss of her voice your wife froze, looking back and meeting your sharp warning glare she retreated from where she'd been surging forward to wrap mila in a hug and stood awkwardly behind you instead.

"now, why did you have to go to timeout mila?" you asked softly, crouching down in front of your daughter who sniffled. "cause i did a naughty thing." mila wiped her nose on the collar of her shirt leaving a bright orange foundation stain that had you wincing at the thought of the work it would take to be rid of it.

"what was that?" "drew on the walls with mamas makeup."

"sorry you what-" with another harsh glare from you leah fell silent again, rocking back and forth on her feet with a guilty expression in her features, the pieces of the puzzle now slowly slotting together in her head.

"mama i'm really really really sorry." "i know you are baby, come here." with that you opened your arms and engulfed your daughter in a hug, her legs wrapping around you as you stood and picked her up with you.

"now. you and mama are gonna go clean up that pretty little face of yours bubba, and then we're gonna go get pizza for dinner-" the downtrodden look was wiped right off her face at those words, your wives too though that wouldn't last long.

"-and mummy is going to stay here by herself, have plain toast for dinner and clean the bedroom wall so she doesn't have to sleep on the sofa tonight!"

[berritart]

thinking abt phone sex with abbyyyy #plz

abby could hear your hitched breathing through the phone, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

you were a mess, and she wish she could see how you were right now. the bottom hem of your nightgown held high up by your teeth, your fingers tracing over your clit through your panties. it was definitely a sight.

"need you abby..." you whined through the phone, wanting nothing more than to have your girlfriend between your legs. it was definitely ovulation time for you. you're usually horny but you would always handle it yourself. you never got to the point where you would have to call your girlfriend to get off, especially this early in the morning. it was only 10 am.

"what do you need me to do baby?" she asked, closing her journal. she got up from her desk and got in bed. she wanted all her attention on you, deciding to cut her study session short.

"just talk to me." you slip your hand under your panties, your cold fingers causing you to whimper in your phone. your noises were fucking with abby already. she wishes she was tongue deep in your cunt right now, making her girl feel good. unfortunately the snow gotten worse overnight and the roads unsafe to drive on. the weather was keeping a barrier between you two.

"what's going on in that pretty little head of yours right now?" abby whispers, unbuttoning her jeans. she began playing with the waistband of her boxers, craving a response from you. she waited, only hearing whines full of need. "c'mon baby tell me."

"t-thinking about your fingers..." you draw circles against your clit, jolting from the contact. "how thick they a-are..." you could literally hear abby grinning on the other side of the phone, enjoying every second of your phone call.

abby felt the warmth in the pit of her stomach get worse. she was so close to becoming the state you're in but it's all about you right now. she could hold off for a bit longer but her sweet thing can't. "and what else angel?" you mewl at the pet name, plus the feeling of your finger slipping inside your pussy. it was too much to handle, your teeth basically chewing off your bottom lip. you needed your girlfriend bad.

you lean the phone against your ear, your hand now groping on your tits through the fabric. "mmm... 'n h-how they reach all the right spots..." you gasp, your pointer and thumb pinching your sensitive nipple. "s'much better than mines."

"you wanna know what i'm thinking?" abby says lowly as she palms herself through her boxers. "'m s-so close baby." you borderline wail, your movements getting sloppier and sloppier. "im thinking about having that pretty pussy rocking back and forth on my tongue." abby's hand picks up the pace, her mouth holding back a whimper. "then when she's ready, when i think she's ready, i'll fuck her nice and slow on my strap. how's that sound sweet girl?"

"s-so so good- fuckfuckfuck i'm cumming." your fingers curl in your sopping cunt before pulling out. your climax washes over you violently, your moans and abby's name being suffocated by your pillow.

"there we go...good girl." abby praises, pulling her hand from her boxers and jeans. you try and catch your breath, hard breathing traveling through to the other line. "miss you so bad abby..."

abby checks the state outside, the sun slowly but surely coming out to melt the thick inches of snow. it was definitely going to take a while for all the snow to melt but for abby? at this rate?

"don't worry baby i'll be there soon."

[defmaybe]

mirrorball

IVE’s Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader

1.4k words

Inspired by Taylor Swift's mirrorball

A/N: This Wonyoung really makes me go :dentt:. Also, thanks to a half of @k-dgn for beta-reading!!! Thanks for reading y'all! Oh, and this one doesn't have pegging (or mentions of it) lmao.

—

Taylor Swift’s mirrorball echoes through the locker room. It’s quiet, except from where two souls are struggling to tear each other’s clothes off. Your hearts are beating fast, and they’re killing you.

“Why the fuck–ugh–is this dress so tight, Wonyoung?”

“It’s prom, baby–mmph. I can’t just go with a tee with jeans and call it a day.”

“That’s not the question.”

“And I don’t give a–mmph–fuck,” Wonyoung says, peppering pecks on your neck. You keep jolting and jolting in response. Her hands are a tangled mess on your buttons.

You’ve been trying for a few minutes now, but her zipper just won’t come off. She pauses her kisses to chuckle now and then, watching you embroiled in the predicament. Still, even with her looking down on you like this, she’s still drop dead gorgeous.

“Let me?” Wonyoung finally asks. You’re panting in exhaustion. Fuck, why is this so hard?

“Yeah, I–I’ll just–fuck–take off my clothes.” You take a step back, throwing the jacket away to god knows where, before unbuttoning your waistcoat hastily, hands trembling. Wonyoung is also reaching for her back, unlocking the otherworldly strong zipper—too bad you aren’t going to see her in this beautiful white dress for a while, at least until you finish with her. Still, there are those pretty eyes and those pouty lips to compensate for the lack of an ethereal garment.

And you realize that you’ve been looking at her for a little too long.

“Hey.”

You’re snapped out of her hypnosis.

“Are we fucking or not?” Wonyoung asks, chuckling as you’ve been gawking at her.

“Y–Yeah, it’s just–uh–”

“Thanks,” she replies with a smile, a genuine one. “I’m more than just face, of course, but thanks.”

You smile back, before returning to unbuttoning your coat. It comes off much easier. You can feel your heartbeat decelerating. Wonyoung’s dress is also coming off, revealing her firm chest beneath it. Her long, slender legs come into view, and you just can’t help but stare at them.

“Fuck,” you utter in awe of her body. That hourglass shape. Those curves. Those contours. Fuck is the right word.

“You’re quite a catch too, you know?” she playfully points at your bulge, still pants and a shirt away to be naked.

You chuckle. “T–Thanks.”

A few more garments are down and you’re now bare in front of this goddess. She’s left with her panties, her small breasts resting on her chest. 

“God, I just wanna–”

“Eat me? Devour me? I’ve heard all of that, baby. Now if you’d just fuck me with that cock,” Wonyoung says, licking her lips.

Bloody hell. “Come on, Wonyoung.”

A giggle escapes her lips.

You take a step towards her. Your faces are just a hot breath away from each other. You can feel your heartbeat accelerating again. You’re lost in each other’s eyes.

Without a word, Wonyoung pulls you into a burning kiss, legs tangled to remove her panties for you. You feel her pouty lips resting on yours. Her tongue invades your mouth ever so masterfully, drawing breathless moans out of you. Her hands grip onto the back of your neck tightly, not wanting to let you leave her in the dark with Taylor Swift alone. She moans and moans into your mouth. Your hands move towards her firm breasts, kneading them, squeezing them, and both of you let out a satisfied hum at the touch.

“Shit,” she says, muffled by the kiss.

You don’t want to let this moment go—bare, kissing under the faint moonlight from the outside. Your hands are wandering around each other’s body. Your moans are sealed within the searing kiss. You pin Wonyoung against the locker, not wanting to let her leave you in the dark with Taylor Swift alone.

It feels like an eternity before she pulls herself back from your lips—flushed. Her breaths come out as pants.

“That–That felt great,” Wonyoung says, breathlessly.

“I know.”

Suddenly, Wonyoung flips the position between you two. You’re now the one pinned on the locker doors, locked within her embrace. She’s looking at you predatorily—determined, eager, lustful.

“Ready?” she asks, tilting her head a little.

You nod.

She steps back, before settling herself on the bench behind her. She gestures her finger as a signal.

“Fuck me.”

You take a step towards her body, lining up your cock with her wet slit.

“Ready?”

She nods.

And you push yourself into her cunt. She welcomes you with her tightness, as both of you moan on the entry. You watch your cock slowly disappearing, inch by inch, into her. Wonyoung’s deep moans are nothing short of angelic. You can just listen to this all day long.

“You’re so tight, Wonyoung,” you grunt, lost in the throes of pleasure she’s giving you.

“T–Thanks, y–you’re big too, you know? Ha–Hah.”

Her wet cunt grips you tightly. The insides of her are hugging you so well. She’s blushing uncontrollably, and so do you. You’re absolutely trembling with excitement right now, as her tightness grips you like a vice. You hear her breaths come out shallowly. Her hands are gripping onto the bench tightly.

You push yourself to the limit that your cock can give, before languidly pulling out of her wetness. She feels so damn good, and you wish that you can just do this forever.

Slowly, you find your rhythm with her. The movement becomes more mechanical, like a clockwork. You’re setting a pace in sliding in and out of her cunt now. She feels even better like this. You’re drawing moans and moans out of her lips. Her hand starts to rub her sensitive clit now—so eager to cum with you.

You cannot fathom the feeling you’re experiencing right now. Her pussy feels too good to be true. She’s smiling as your shaft slides in and out of her, happy to be stuffed with a cock. Her breasts heave with the movement.

Her eyes stare into yours with unbridled need. 

“W–Wonyoung.”

“Hmm, y–yes?”

“C–Can I cum on your face?”

Wonyoung bursts out a laugh. “Only if you kiss me after. I wanna kiss you so fucking bad.”

You then seal your lips with hers, invading her wanting mouth with your tongue. You bite her bottom lip softly, drawing out a moan out of her. She bites your bottom lip back ever so softly, matching your gentleness. Below, you’re still giving the same roughness she craves, thrusting into her wanton cunt with no abandon.

After an eternity, you two both come up for the much-needed breath outside of the kiss. You see her face becomes all flushed after the kiss, bringing out a chuckle from you.

You pull your cock out of her wanton cunt, using your hand to relieve the pent-up pressure. Wonyoung kneels, sticking her tongue out lewdly, making a sound, while her hand is rubbing her swollen clit furiously. What a sight.

“Come on, paint my face. Think of it as a canvas or something,” she says.

You can feel it, that all-so-familiar feeling building up in your lower stomach. Your thighs tense up, ready to blow the load on her gorgeous face. The wave is coming. It’s going to crash into you, and you’re so fucking ready to welcome it.

“Do you need encouragement, baby boy?”

And with that word, you give in. Your cock shoots spurts of cum onto her face. Your vision turns white. Wonyoung moans as her orgasm hits at the same time, eyes fluttering in ecstasy. Her whole body jerks and shakes with you. Fuck, you’re going to remember this forever.

Your cum lands on her forehead, between the plump lips inside her mouth, on her perfectly sculpted nose, on her rosy cheeks. Some even land on her tits. She’s happy to take it all.

“Good boy, good fucking boy,” says Wonyoung with her cum-smeared face. She picks up a portion of it from her reddened cheeks with her slender fingers, before having a taste.

“Yum.”

She then stands up before staring into your eyes. She looks so damn breathtaking like this.

“D–Do you need anything else, Wonyoung?” you stammer out.

“I was promised a kiss, pretty boy, after you painted me like your goddamn canvas,” Wonyoung says.

Again, her tongue invades your mouth relentlessly. Her pouty lips rest on yours, and the wet sounds of kissing rings in your ear. Your hands move onto her pert breasts. Her grip on your neck becomes tighter.

“So good,” says Wonyoung, muffled.

She then breaks off the searing kiss, blushing, breaths coming in ragged.

“We’re going to have to do this again.”

“Definitely, or maybe.”

“What do you mean, maybe?”

You laugh, before sealing her lips again with a kiss.

—

[littelovelunette]

Gamble Gone Wrong

Sevika x F!reader

Content warning: NSFW, gambling, rough sex, strap on, butt plug, anal, spanking, degradation, spitting, implication of shower sex, vaginal sex, choking, cnc, eating out

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“I don't wanna play, Sev,” you had said, “I'm sometimes either too good or too bad. Neither will look good to you.”

“Just give it a go, one time won't hurt,” Sevika had said, smoking her cigarette with a cocky grin.

… That cocky grin was slapped right off her face after you won, ruining her winning streak and practically throwing the pieces of her dignity over her head like confetti.

“It's okay, baby, I don't like poker anyway, hey, hey, it's okay,” you immediately began trying to comfort Sevika who looked a little baffled for a while before she slammed her fist down, grabbing you and sweeping you off your feet.

You giggled as Sevika took you to your shared bedroom, pinning you down to the bed with a grunt.

Sevika pushed you down against the bed, kissing you hard and sloppily. You laughed a little in the kiss, Sevika was mad at you and you were aware of that. Mainly because you beat her in Poker.

You gasped as Sevika grabbed your panties and tore them off, “Those were expensive, y’know?” you mumbled as Sevika made you get onto your hands and knees at the edge of the bed.

“I'll get ya’ 10 more,” Sevika answered before delving two fingers into your pussy, drawing out the slick wetness, “You get off by getting me pissed huh?” Sevika slapped your ass leaving a red handprint.

“Mhm, I do, what are you gonna do about it?” you grinned a little, your eyes fixed on the bed sheets as you tried to understand Sevika's actions by the touch only.

Sevika didn't answer you, and then you felt the end of a fairly large butt plug against her asshole, “Shit,” you cursed under your breath, “Sev, that's too big.” you managed out, legs trying to close but Sevika held them open with her mech hand.

Sevika laughed, her laugh a mixture of cruelty and dominance as she spat on your genitalia, rubbing the wet saliva over your asshole and pussy before she pushed the buttplug in harshly.

“O-ow…” you bit your bottom lip as you felt the toy invade your insides and stretch you, the burning stretch threatening to swallow you whole.

“You're taking it so well though, such a slut. Don't tell me you've been touching yourself back here,” Sevika taunted.

How did she know…?

“I…- I have,” you mumbled back.

Sevika's eyes widened a little and she sputtered, “Yo, wha-...”

“I have touched myself back there before,” you said a bit more firmly this time. Sevika, although shocked for a bit, quickly regained her composure and slapped your ass, “Dirty little slut, aren't you?”

You moaned at the sensation and trembled a little, feeling Sevika turned you onto her back. Sevika pulled your legs apart, a little smirk appearing on her dark lips.

“You look so sexy from here,” Sevika undressed you and did so herself too before stepping back to put her strap on.

It was purple, dark purple and huge, the veins and ridges, the sheer length of it made your skin crawl with hunger and need. You had to fight the urge to simply moan at the mere thought of feeling that toy stretching out your insides and reaching so deep within your pussy.

You were brought back to reality when Sevika grabbed your breasts, pinching and pulling at the nipples, her mech arm provided coldness against your nub and her flesh hand made it feel warm.

“A-ah, daddy…”

Sevika smirked, rubbing the tip of the dildo on your slit.

“Like it, don't you? Of course you do, you're a cute little slut for me. All spread out and needy, look at you dripping all over the sheets,” Sevika taunted, her hands moving to grab your hips tightly, bruises appearing.

“Want daddy to fuck your insides up?” She asked, as she looked at you, you couldn't help but nod helplessly.

“Yes, daddy, give it to me…” you said, that was it.

All restraints broke when Sevika grabbed your thighs, spreading them wider as she slammed in her huge dildo inside your hole, making your wet pussy squelch and tighten further over the intruding object.

“Oh, Sev!—” you moaned but then got cut off when Sevika grabbed your chin, “What did you call me?” her voice was low and simply a growl.

She forced your mouth open, spitting inside before her hands traced down to your neck, choking you as she thrusted at a violent pace making the bed creak in protest. Her thrusts were sloppy and relentless, angered and brutal. Your toes curled at the sensation as you moaned quite loudly. You were sure anyone at a 20 feet proximity knew how hard Sevika was fucking you right now.

You managed to choke out a moan, Sevika's hand still choking you, the pain felt so delicious. Tears appeared in your eyes and Sevika pulled her hand away from your throat, grabbing the underside of your thighs Sevika lifted your legs onto her shoulders.

Sevika managed to reach deeper, slamming the dildo against your g-spot, abusing your hole thoroughly. “My stomach…”

Sevika laughed at your mindless blabbering and looked down at the dildos imprint on your lower abdomen only making her smirk more, her pace heightening.

“I'll ruin your fucking holes. You're mine, got me?”

Your eyes closed tightly as you felt the buttplug starting to slip out of your asshole no matter how much you tried to clench it in.

“Daddy, the plug..” you managed through the violent thrusts

“Hm?”

You whined as she gave particularly harsh thrust making the buttplug slip out of your asshole with an almost comical pop. Sevika looked down and smirked, “Tight ass, huh?”

Sevika pulled the dildo out of your pussy, white residue shining on the purple strap as she, without any warning, thrusted the dildo into your asshole.

“Daddy!” You screamed out. Sevika grabbed both your ankles in one hand, pushing your legs up and folding you easily as she thrusted the strap all the way inside.

Sevika continued pumping the strap with a smirk on her face, she could do this for hours.

“Daddy, please, I can't anymore,” you whimpered, hands clawing at the bedsheets desperately but Sevika didn't cease.

“You can and you will,” Sevika growled, moving faster until you squirted all over her lower abdomen, her bush and abs.

Sevika pulled the dildo out of your now gaping asshole, finger tracing the reddened rim.

“So well, baby,” Sevika said as she pulled your legs down, her head disappearing between your thighs as she delicately licked and sucked your pussy, cleaning you off your own juices.

“Daddy, no… d-d-daddy, I can't…” you sobbed but Sevika didn't let up and continued sucking until you eventually cam again.

Sevika got up after that, smiling a little as she cradled your trembling body, “Did so so good for me,” she kissed your forehead.

“Want a shower?”

“You'll just fuck me in there.”

“You'll like it.”

“Let's go.”

[princesssmars]

i musttt have tribbing with vi

and i must talk about tribbing with vi! nsfw.

when it comes to sex, you were pleasantly surprised to find out vi prefers your time together to be intimate, prolonged, and sweet. she'll shower you in praise and press sweet giggly kisses into your skin as she slowly brings you to a blissful crescendo.

except for the rare instances where she has a workday gone bad, the heavy thud of her gauntlets hitting the floor the only warning you get before she downright pounces on you and drags you to the bed, the couch, sometimes the floor-

you dont try to use words to get through to her when she's like this, knowing she'll talk about whatever is bothering her once she's successfully gotten her energy out. you help her take off both of your clothes, fabric flying as she pushes you down and presses a quick series of bites and nips down your torso until her mouth attaches to your center, quickly bringing you to orgasm as she claws and bites at your thighs.

she won't even give you a minute to catch your breath, strong hands instantly pushing your legs up and apart as she sets herself over you, leg resting over her shoulder as she grinds her cunt into yours.

the pleasure is intense, rendering you incapacitated as she moves your body to her will and uses you to get herself off. you press a quivering hand to her abdomen in a feeble attempt to gain some control when she's growling and pressing your hand into your stomach, breathlessly laughing when it draws a mewl from deep inside of your chest.

when your eyes focus after going damn near uncrossed you focus on her, hot pink hair dropping from her insane hairstyle and hanging down in her flushed face. her eyes are hazy as she stares at where the two of you meet, downright in a trance as she watches your pussy become wetter and nosier and so damn pretty.

and she can tell when you start to get close, because of course she can, and you can tell she's right there on the edge with you when she's biting at the skin of your ankle and rolling her hips even faster, mumbles of "'s so good, feels so good" and "cum for me, please, wanna feel it-" sending you over with a shout and deep arch of your back, barely registering how vi folds you near in half and bites a groan into your neck, hips slowing until her tired body is near dead weight in your arms.

"so, you wanna talk about it now?" you breathe, softly running your hands through her hair as she nuzzles into your neck and tries to bring her body impossibly closer to yours.

"mmm. let me just... rest for a minute. then go again with you folded like this."

and as you feel her hands smooth over the skin of your hips, you realize that with her, the exhaustion is worth it.

[moonstruckme]

Could you do a scenario of reader comforting sirus after he gets an injury while playing Quidditch and has to sit out a lot of games?

Thanks for requesting!

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 701 words

Sirius hardly pauses his sulking to mutter a quiet, “thanks,” when you return with his hot cider. 

Remus scoffs. “Nice, Pads.” 

“What?” 

“You’re just so sweet to your girlfriend.” 

“It’s okay,” you say, sitting next to Sirius with a smile. “It’s his first match being barred from the pitch, I get it.” You fix your boyfriend with a look. “I won’t be patient forever, though.” 

Sirius looks genuinely contrite. “Sorry.” You accept his apology kiss, but he scowls when a first year nearly trips on his cast. “Fuck, is this thing bloody invisible?” 

“Easy,” Remus cautions, though both he and you shoot stern looks at the first year. 

“Wanna turn sideways?” you offer. “I could hold it in my lap?” 

Sirius perks up some. “You gonna give me a foot massage, gorgeous?” 

“Merlin,” Remus mutters, scanning the student section for Lily. 

“I don’t really see how that would be possible…” You raise your eyebrows, smiling when Sirius half turns in his seat to plonk his injured leg in your lap. “I was thinking more like I could draw on it. Any tattoos you’ve been wanting on this leg?” 

Most of Gryffindor has already had a turn signing Sirius’ cast. It’s been on since the match last weekend, when a bad fall had broken Sirius’ leg badly enough that Pomfrey eventually had to send him out of the infirmary with skele-gro to heal what she couldn’t. It’ll be on for another couple weeks at least, and between you and James the white plaster is beginning to run out of space. 

“Hm.” Sirius leans over, considering. You’re glad the distraction is working. He’s been quiet and sullen all week because he’s had to miss quidditch training, and you’re sure his melancholy is twice as bad having to miss out on an actual match. “What about a dragon?”

“I could maybe do that.” You fish a marker out of your bag. “What sort of dragon?” 

Sirius’ mood sinks again when the match starts and the players fly out onto the pitch, but as it gets going and Gryffindor starts to score points, he gets into it. He roars with the rest of the crowd, picks up a chant about house pride, and, though he shouts a few obscenities at the beater filling in for him when a bludger gets too close to Bell, he still smiles when James points at him after scoring a goal. A real smile, bright and heart-fluttering. 

Near the end of the game, Sirius looks rather contented. He sips his second cup of cider while you draw daisies in between the other doodles on his cast. 

“They’d have more points if I were out there,” he says, rather mildly. 

Remus nearly snorts. “Yeah? How do you figure?” 

“I’d have sent a bludger towards Malfoy ages ago. There’s been lots of opportunities. Marlene’s holding her own, though,” he acknowledges. “And there are some advantages to being off the pitch for a little while.” 

You catch the syrupy quality to his voice, and turn to find him looking at you. You raise your eyebrows. “Do tell.” 

“Well, the cider, for one.” Sirius holds up his cup, as though that’s obvious. “Can’t usually have that during a match.” 

“Mm, you’re welcome.” 

“Did I not say thank you?” He leans over to nose at your neck. Remus respectfully looks back to the match. “Thank you, baby. Really. It’s great.” 

“I didn’t make it.” You grin at him. “What are the other things?” 

Sirius hums. “No early morning training. I get to have breakfast with my girl.” 

“No afternoon training on the weekends, either.” 

“Ah, see? You’re catching on.” 

“Don’t talk down to me,” you laugh. “You’re the one who’s been giving everyone the cold shoulder all week, Black.” 

“I know.” Sirius pulls his face from beneath your jaw. The playfulness is mostly gone from his expression, his eyes deep blue and full of apology. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to give anyone the cold shoulder, I just…” 

“It’s okay,” you say easily. You lean over, kissing the top of his head. “Really, I get it. You alright?” 

Sirius sighs, looking out over the pitch. “Yeah.” 

You rest your cheek on his hair. “Good.”

[san8ny]

NOBODY DOES IT LIKE YOU DO !

!: Ellie Williams X Fem!Reader - SMUT - PowerBottom!Ellie

?: I mean..no one really does it like you do, ask Ellie!

Ellie who whines when you thwack a large silicone cock against her lower stomach, impact play kink peaking through the blinds she holds when you pinch the small pudge on her inner thighs.

“Can I put it now, Ells? Pretty please?” You say energetically, a stark difference to her lethargic and evidently strap-drunk demeanor, “Y-yeah, baby. ‘Jus do it slowly..”

You nod, biting your bottom lip in awe as her pussy practically swallows it up inch by inch, “Ah..! It’s in!”

You lean your body over hers, supple breasts almost chest-to-chest with hers as you begin to move slowly, “You’re doing it so well.” Ellie coos, wanting so bad to capture your lips in a messy kiss when she sees how focused you are on pleasing her, following directions the way she wants. :(

“It’s like I can almost feel you, els.” You pant sweetly, doe eyes fixed on her closed ones, noting how the pleasure is written all over her face.

You’re a silly girl, you know you can’t feel her, but Ellie’s pussy clenches hard over the strap when you say that.

You wanna make her feel how she makes you feel, afterall..

and God, you swear Ellie feels so warm while you’re inside her, literally. You can feel the heat radiating off both of your bodies.

Cupping your cheek,

“Y-yeah? Shit—Uhn! You’re so good f’me, doll. Try speeding it up a little, I can take it.” She says through moans and hiccups, your hip bone pummeling into hers while your cock makes it’s way drawing all inside her.

You nod, leaning back as you grasp her thigh, putting it on your shoulder when you notice the small print on her lower stomach. You fuck her with newfound confidence, sweat trickling down your hairline with a smile on your face “L-like this?”

She nods erratically, sympathy of pleasure reaching new found heights of volume when you duck down and suckle her blushed erect nipple, “Fuuuckkk…” Ellie draws out in a high pitched voice, coil in her stomach feeling hotter and hotter like molten lava when she tips over, no longer being able to withstand your assult on her.

She creams all over your strap, some even splattering onto your own body when you thumb her engorged clit through the blissful orgasm, it’s a disgusting scene, really, but to you? It feels like an accomplishment.

Her chest heaves and falls with exhaustion, Ellie still not finding it in her egotistical state to tell herself you really just gave her the best fucking of her entire life. You poke a digit through her cheek, still having alot of pent up energy as you whine, “Hurry up and take a breather. I wanna eat it out of you now..”

[sturnioz]

Fb!chris reaction to shy!reader flashing him randomly. Just to see that she spontaneously got her nipples pierced

truthfully, i dont see shy!reader getting her nipples pierced. but i lowkey loved this idea so i had to do it.

"i got something to tell you." you say with a bright smile as you shuffle up beside chris, who is sitting on the edge of the bed, his fingers expertly rolling a joint, the other one casually tucked behind his ear — maybe forgotten about, you think, but you decide against pointing it out as you wait, hoping to have his attention.

but he doesn't look at you. instead, he hums in response, his eyes glued to the rolling paper, completely absorbed in his task to even spare you a glance. frustration wells up inside you, and your smile fades, replaced with a deepening frown as your brows knit together.

you gently poke his shoulder this time, trying to break through his focus.

"don't. m'busy." he snaps, his tone sharper than you expected — a clear sign that he's not in the mood for distractions.

you can't help but huff at that, your initial excitement now sizzling into disappointment. you grip the bedsheets tightly, longing for his attention and feeling a little annoyed at his dismissiveness that in a moment of impulse, you nudge him, hoping this time to draw him away and into the conversation want so desperately want to have.

"kid.. don't."

"i want to tell you something." you reply, trying again, your tone laced with a hint of attitude that surprises even you, and to your relief, it seems to get through to him as he abruptly turns his head, his glare sharp and his jaw clenched tightly.

"stop bein' a fuckin' brat, kid. i told you that i am busy, yeah? i told you that, 'n now you're gettin' an attitude with me? learn to behave before i—"

you find yourself lifting your shirt without thinking, revealing the new, swollen piercings you impulsively got. you can't help but grin with pride, despite the fact you cried when you got them done — but he doesn't need to know that.

chris' gaze drops immediately to your chest, his eyebrows raising in surprise as he blinks, momentarily taken aback before he tucks the joint behind his other ear, his tongue prodding at his cheek as he lets out a small hum of acknowledgment.

"wow.." he murmurs, and for a moment, you think his reaction is rather bland and disappointing. but then you notice the smirk slowly spreading across his lips, his hand reaching out to gently cup your breast.

his thumb brushes against your swollen nipple, and you can't help but hiss at the sudden sting, instinctively swatting his hand away with a sharp slap.

"sore?" he asks, an amused glint in his eyes.

"obviously," you reply, frowning slightly before gathering the courage to ask. "do.. you like them?"

"do i like them?" chris repeats, pausing as if he's considering his response. but instead of answering your question, he shifts the focus back to you. "what made you wanna do this anyway, kid? didn't think you'd be into this kinda shit."

"kitty was getting hers re-pierced, and i felt a little confident," you admit, feeling the heat creep up your cheeks. "i wanted something done too."

"confident, huh?" chris hums, licking his lips as he shakes his head. "kitty's a bad influence on you, kid. gotta stop hangin' out with her so much."

that is not the response you were hoping for, and you pull your shirt down with a small huff, obscuring the piercings from his view. chris grins, tilting his head to the side as he watches you move up his bed, settling a few feet away and grabbing your phone — you were absolutely going to tell the groupchat about this.

"i like 'em, by the way," you hear chris admit, and you pause, lifting your head in surprised. your eyebrows raise, and a shy smile threatens to spread across your lips at his unexpected compliment.

he nods slowly as he reaches for more rolling papers and a baggy of weed, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary before looking away.

"yeah.. like 'em a lot."

[vantetaes]

NEIGHBORLY FUN🫧🥂

LAWYER! NANAMI X CAM GIRL BLACK FEM READER!

SUMMARY!!! yn is a camgirl, working towards her dream of luxury, when a view realizes how close she actually is, how far will he go?

WARNINGS!!! 18+!!!, barely a relationship established before sex, oral (f & m receiving), missionary (?), ignore errors

the dim glow of your ring light illuminates your room in soft, diffused radiance. set up just right to cast a flattering light across your rich, smooth brown skin, accentuating the warm undertones that gleam in the dim ambiance. your hair is messily bunched into a light pink claw clip, holding the mess of waves out of your face and shimmering lipgloss.

THE WEEKND plays in the background from your orb, sound filling the semi-new apartment space. bouncing off the laminate flooring and smooth ceilings.

“pick up your phone, the party’s finished and i want you to know, im all alone”

you’re tipsy tonight, maybe more than tipsy. the almost-empty bottle of rosé sits precariously on your vanity, lipgloss around the rim catching a bit of the light as you finish adjusting your outfit. a sheer black robe drapes over your shoulders, teasingly loose. beneath it, you wear a lingerie set that delicate. lace tracing over your curves, hugging your skin in ways you didn’t know material could. brown star shaped pasties with Y-N encrusted on each of the cups with a small star shape beside them.

youd been pre-gaming, dancing to your favorite playlist as you got ready, letting the alcohol loosen your inhibitions. it always helps with the nerves, even though by now, you’re a pro at this.

“i always want you when im, coming down”

but in your wine-addled haze, your finger must’ve slipped, because the stream starts before you’re even aware.

still, your hips move like water to the beat of your music. letting the white wine run its course through your system. your faux doe furry slippers shuffle across your bedroom floor, flipping on a sunset lamp tucked in the corner. casting a warm pink and purple across your body.

your playlist shuffles, AGORA HILLS begins softly.

“ooo, this my shit!” you giggle to yourself, straightening up bed to get ready for your stream.

youd been a camgirl for around three years now. the only management you’ve ever had, was yourself. if something had to be done, you knew to only rely on yourself.

hence why you’re standing in a penthouse in a part of the city only neurosurgeons and lawyers can afford. it was something to prove for yourself.

so how did you manage to fuck up so bad?

the laptop sits open on your vanity, camera capturing you as you sway to the rhythm of the music. your hips roll in a fluid motion, the silky fabric of your robe clinging to your skin before shifting away with each movement, the robe slips from one shoulder as you spin lazily. you don’t notice the faint red light. not yet. instead, you’re caught up in the feeling, in the confidence that blooms under the dim light and the heady rush of alcohol.

“kissing i hope they caught us, whether they like or not”

you reach for the mail you’d left on the vanity, shuffling through it absentmindedly. the camera catches the briefest glimpse of an envelope. just a flash, but enough to reveal the name of your apartment complex in bold, black letters. it’s only on the screen for a moment, but for someone watching closely, it’s more than enough.

“i wanna brag about it, i wanna tie the knot”

pushing all the white envelopes to the side, your eyes can’t help but to draw to the pink screen.

HOTGIRLHOTFUN. com

➤YOU ARE NOW LIVE…

your brows knit together as you squint, trying to focus through the haze.

that’s when you see it.

the little red flickering light. the live chat scrolling at the side of the screen. the usernames. familiar, faceless, hungry.

you freeze, breath catching in your throat.

“oh my god.”

the realization hits like a slap to the face, sobering you in an instant. your heart pounds as you lurch toward the laptop, the chair scraping against the floor in your rush.

“shit—shit! no, no, no.”

your hands fumble over the keys, trying to stop the stream, but the alcohol makes your fingers clumsy, your movements frantic. the robe slips further, hanging precariously off your arms, and you’re too panicked to notice that your bra strap was following suit.

the chat is exploding now, messages flying by faster than you can process.

userano321: lmaooo wait, is she drunk?

kimgofmacity: this is the realest ive ever seen her

barbbigb: QUEEN, WE LOVE YOU!

anonymous000: what was that mail? did anyone catch that??

gnroyalty: i could’ve sworn i just saw her apartment name bro

your stomach churns as you catch the tail end of that last comment. your mind races, trying to piece together what you might’ve done. what they might’ve seen. the envelope. the damn envelope.

“i wanna show you off”

“god, im so fucking stupid!” you mutter under your breath, slamming the laptop shut with more force than necessary. the music cuts off abruptly, leaving the room oppressively silent except for your ragged breathing.

and someone was watching closely.

two doors down, in an apartment that mirrors yours, nanami kento sits at his desk, his laptop open before him. he’s still in his work clothes, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, tie loosened just enough to give him a semblance of relief after a long day. the glass of whiskey in his hand is barely touched, attention elsewhere.

he hadn’t meant to stay up this late, but the notification from the site had popped up, and he couldn’t resist.

not when it was you.

for the past month, you’ve been his escape. after endless hours at the office, after the pressure of being the reliable one, the composed one, the perfect one, he’s found solace in the way you move, the way you smile at the camera as if you’re looking directly at him. he knows it’s an illusion, that you’re performing for countless others, but it doesn’t matter. im those moments, it feels personal.

and now, watching you move in your apartment, the lightweight robe your wore threatening to give your whole audience a show. your real, unpolished self. it feels too personal. his breath hitches as he notices the envelope flash on screen, shooting up from his lazed position in the chair. his sharp eyes catching the familiar name of the building.

his heart pounds in his chest, a mixture of disbelief and something darker, something possessive. you’re here. not just in the abstract sense of existing in the same world, but here, in the same building.

he watches as you dance, as you laugh softly to yourself, oblivious to the fact that you’re live. There’s an edge of guilt twisting in his gut, but it’s drowned out by the thrill of knowing. of seeing you like this. unguarded, unfiltered, real.

and then you notice.

you glance toward the laptop, a fleeting look at first, before your eyes widen. the realization hits like a freight train, and you scramble toward the screen, a string of curses falling from your lips as you reach to end the stream. but it’s too late.

for nanami, it’s already too late. the image of you, raw and vulnerable, is burned into his mind. and now, with the knowledge of just how close you are, he knows he’ll never be able to watch you the same way again.

-

the outdoor cafe is rather warm. the smell of roasted coffee beans and sweet pastries filling the air as you stir your latte absentmindedly. the ceramic cup clinks softly against the saucer each time you set it down, your hands trembling slightly. across from you, shoko sits with one leg crossed over the other, her sharp eyes watching you intently as you explain.

“and then i saw the chat.” you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper.

“and i realized i was streaming the whole time. the whole time, shoko. this shits so dumb, how could i be so dumb?”

“so… you gave them a free show?” she exhales a puff of smoke from the cigarette she’s holding, tilting her head slightly to the side.

“basically.” you wince, lowering your head as you groan.

she doesn’t laugh, which surprises you. instead, she ashes her cigarette into the tray and leans forward slightly, resting her chin in her hand.

“so, what are you gonna do about it?”

you blink, caught off guard by her calm tone.

“i- i don’t know. i deleted the stream as fast as i could, but people were definitely recording. and—” you glance around nervously, lowering your voice even more.

“i accidentally flashed my building’s name on the mail.”

shoko leans back, dragging on her cigarette again, pinching the bridge of her nose before blowing the smoke out.

“well. that’s not great, yn.” she says bluntly, blowing more smoke upward.

“but it’s not the end of the world. just tighten up your security, maybe invest in some blinds if you’re gonna keep doing this. and for god’s sake, no more drinking before you stream.” her tone was sharp and clean. almost too much for your situation.

you nod slowly, taking in her words. she’s right, of course. she usually is, though her delivery could use some work.

“and hey.” she adds, tapping ash from her cigarette.

“don’t beat yourself up too much. shit happens. just handle it like the big girl i know you are and move on.”

“thanks, shoko. i love you, i needed that.” you give her a small, grateful smile.

“anytime. now go home and get your head on straight, i love ya too.”she waves you off with a flick of her wrist.

you finish your latte and gather your things, stepping out into the crisp air as you head back to your apartment. the walk is short, but your mind is heavy with everything that’s happened. as you step into the building and make your way down the hall, your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of footsteps.

you glance up and see him. tall, broad-shouldered, with a serious expression that makes your breath hitch for reasons you don’t fully understand. his blond hair is neatly combed, and his sharp suit clings to him in a way that makes you wonder where he’s coming from.

as he passes, the scent hits you first. warm, woodsy, with a hint of spice. it’s intoxicating, wrapping around you like a second skin. you don’t even realize you’ve stopped walking until he glances at you, his brow lifting slightly in acknowledgment.

he was fine.

“good evening.” he says, his voice deep and steady, the kind that lingers even after the words are gone.

“um, evening.” you blink, shaking yourself out of your daze. you manage, your voice softer than you intended.

as he fully walks past, you catch another whiff of his cologne, and something compels you to turn.

“wait- uh, excuse me?”

he stops, looking over his shoulder. “yes?”

“i don’t think we’ve met. i’m yn. i just moved in a month ago.” you take a step closer, suddenly feeling a little bold.

he turns fully now, his expression polite but unreadable. “nanami kento. i live two doors down.”

“nice to meet you, nanami.” you smile, offering your hand.

“likewise.” his handshake is firm but not overpowering, his palm warm against yours while the rings he wore were cold.

as he pulls his hand back, you catch a faint trace of his cologne again, and it lingers even after he’s walked away. for some reason, you can’t help but smile as you turn toward your door, your mind wandering to thoughts you probably shouldn’t entertain.

pushing open the door to your apartment, boxes flooded your living room, labels signaling location sticking out in bold black lettering. placing your bag down on the granite island, your elbow props up your head, letting out a deep sigh.

deciding to push every box into its home, you find yourself biting off way more than you you could chew.

what brought you to this realization? the box labeled GLASSWARE. you bought in bulk just in case any got harmed in transport. only to come to find you have several glass plates and bowls stacked inside a flimsy cardboard box.

the only box your dad brought upstairs.

bent down to your knees, a new set and fingers wedged between your white furry carpet and box, struggling to find grip.

finally dropping it, you sigh in frustration, the sound coming out a little louder and jagged.

flopping onto the black couch, your hand wipes across your eyes.

“am i really gonna have to pull all those dishes out and walk them to-“

before you could continue, a knock at the door startles you.

you rise cautiously, brushing your hands on your legs before padding to the door. peeking through the peephole, your breath catches when you see him.

nanami.

you hesitate for a moment before unlocking the door, pulling it open just enough to meet his gaze. his expression is calm, though there’s a flicker of concern in his eyes. wearing gray sweats and a large basketball jersey.

“hi.” you say, your voice tentative. “everything okay?”

“i was actually about to ask you the same.” he replies, his deep voice steady.

“i heard a lot of sighing and maybe a bird? thought I should check in.”

“im so sorry no, im just having trouble moving my kitchen boxes… to the kitchen? my dad put them in my living room and it’s just so-“ you notice yourself rambling before tight-lining your lips together.

“sorry.” he just responds in a laugh, hand brushing the back of his head.

“need some help? i finally have a off day and i wouldn’t mind.”

you hesitate, unsure if you should let him into the chaos of your apartment, but something about the steady kindness in his gaze puts you at ease. finally, you step back, opening the door wider.

“okay-” you say softly. “thank you.”

as he steps inside, his presence feels grounding, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the whirlwind of your night. the scent of his cologne lingers as he moves past you, and you can’t help but feel a little lighter knowing you’re not dealing with the mess alone.

you close the door behind him, still feeling a bit flustered as nanami surveys the mess in your living room. his expression remains calm and focused, his hands resting on his hips as he nods toward the heavier boxes stacked near the wall.

“those for the kitchen?” he asks, his voice low and steady.

“uh, yeah.” you reply, brushing a curl out of your face. “but they’re really heavy, you really don’t have to—”

“it’s fine.” he says, already moving toward the boxes.

his jersey shifts slightly as he crouches, revealing a glimpse of toned shoulders and arms. a tattoo covering the majority of his upper arm. the loose fit of the fabric clings just enough to hint at the broad, solid frame beneath it. your eyes flicker downward, and you notice his gray sweatpants sitting low on his hips, highlighting the bulge sitting prominent but obviously not at its peak.

you snap your gaze away quickly, heat rising to your cheeks as he lifts one of the heavier boxes like it weighs nothing. his hands grip the sides firmly, veins faintly visible on his forearms as he straightens up.

“where in the kitchen do you want these?” he asks, his tone casual, as if he doesn’t notice the way your attention lingers for just a second too long.

“shit, sorry.” you manage, pointing toward the counter. “by the cabinets, if that’s okay.”

he nods and heads into the kitchen, the sound of his steps against your hardwood floor grounding you in the moment. you follow him instinctively, watching as he places the box down carefully, then goes back for another.

“you’ve been moving a lot of heavy stuff on your own?” he asks as he grabs a second box.

“yeah, i mean- it’s not a big deal. i’ve done all of this alone already.” you say, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt with one hand while the other pans around the partially decorated space.

“you should’ve asked for help.” he glances over his shoulder as he carries the box, his gaze steady.

“i didn’t want to bother anyone and i didn’t know anyone.” you admit, feeling a little sheepish.

“it’s not a bother. better to ask than risk getting hurt.”he says simply, setting the second box down in the kitchen.

his tone is firm but not unkind, and you feel a strange sense of comfort in his practicality. as he goes back for another box, you notice how the fabric of his jersey clings to his back with each movement, the sweatpants hanging loose but perfectly fitting at the same time.

“you really didn’t have to do this.” you say again, your voice softer this time.

he sets the last box down and straightens up, turning to face you.

“it’s not a problem. besides, it’s safer this way. you shouldn’t be lifting this stuff on your own.” he replies, brushing his hands off on his sweatpants.

his eyes are locked onto you, noticing how much small your frame was compared to his. of course he’d envisioned having you under him, gasping for air, something to bring you back down from him wrecking havoc on your swollen cunt.

“well, thank you. i owe you, i mean it.” you smile, feeling a warmth that isn’t just from the embarrassment of the situation.

“you don’t owe me anything. just glad you’re okay.” he shakes his head slightly, his tone as practical as ever.

his words are simple, but the sincerity behind them warms you in a way you didn’t expect. as he heads toward the door, you find yourself hesitating, not ready for him to leave just yet.

“wait.” you say, your voice soft but enough to make him pause.

“yes?” he turns back to you, his expression neutral but attentive.

you tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious under his steady gaze.

“um… would you want to stay for dinner? i was already planning to cook, and it’s the least i can do to thank you.”

his brows lift slightly, the faintest trace of surprise flickering across his face. he doesn’t respond immediately, and you rush to add-

“but no pressure! i just thought, you know, since you’re already here-”

“dinner sounds good. thank you.” his lips curve into a small, almost imperceptible smile, and he nods.

“great! it’s nothing fancy, but make yourself comfortable. i’ll get started.” you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, a smile breaking across your face.

-

your apartment is dimly lit except for the spotlight on you. candles flicker on the table in the background, adding a sultry ambiance. you’ve carefully arranged the scene: soft blankets draped over the couch, pillows positioned just so, and your favorite playlist humming low in the background.

“honestly, honestly im trying to stay focused”

you press go live, the familiar rush of adrenaline hitting as the chat begins to populate almost instantly.

HOTGIRLHOTFUN. com

➤ YOU ARE NOW LIVE…

messages flood in almost immediately.

user123: she’s back !

xxhunter: finally, she’s live.

k1nklover TOP GIFTER*: red’s your color, baby.

joshjnine: take that shit off we came for a show

you smirk at the screen, leaning forward slightly so the delicate strap of your top shifts just enough to tease. your nails, freshly painted to match your lingerie. click softly against the keyboard as you type a quick response.

“hi, babies. missed you.”

your voice follows the words as you say them aloud, smooth and low, letting the sound wrap around the airwaves. the chat explodes in response, and you take a moment to enjoy the attention, the way they hang onto your every word, every move.

“i just need some dick, i just need some love”

you shift back on the couch, crossing one leg over the other slowly, deliberately, the soft fabric of your robe brushing against your skin. your curls fall over one shoulder as you tilt your head, giving the camera just the right angle.

“so-” you begin, your tone teasing, taunting the viewers. “what are we getting into tonight?”

the chat scrolls faster than you can read, but certain comments catch your eye:

xxhunter: put her on camera pls

user567: i’d do anything to be there with you right now

k1nklover TOP GIFTER*: take off the bra

darkprince: spin for us, baby. let us see everything.

“girls can't never say they want it, girls can't never say how”

you chuckle softly, letting the sound linger as you rise from the couch. the robe slips from your shoulders as you stand, pooling at your feet like water.

“you want to see everything?” you ask, your tone playful, as you turn slowly, letting your body move with the rhythm of the music.

“girls can't never say they need it, girls can't never say now, oh, now”

the camera captures every curve, every angle, and you know exactly what you’re doing. the confidence feels electric, sparking through your veins as the chat fills with messages. compliments, requests, declarations of love.

but beneath it all, there’s a small, nagging thought in the back of your mind. ever since the last stream, you’ve been extra cautious. the blinds are drawn tightly, the mail hidden away, the camera carefully positioned to avoid any unwanted slips.

still, you can’t help but glance at the corner of your screen every few minutes, double-checking that everything is as it should be. the viewers don’t notice, of course. all they see is you, commanding their attention with every glance, every sway of your hips.

you move closer to the camera, leaning in so your face fills the frame, your lips curving into a slow, inviting smile.

“tell me what you want tonight,” you purr, your voice dripping with honey. “i’m all yours.”

one comment in particular catches your eye.

nknt0: strip, slow.

catching your glossed lip in between your teeth, you hum. crouching down to get on your knees, breast spilling a little over the cup of your bra as you go on fours. crawling to the laptop, your fingers click against the keys.

“then i think we should get a different song on here. any requests?”

your eyes scan the rushed chat, only scanning for one name in particular. the pink screen shines brightly, adding more luminance to your makeup.

then.

nknt0: pussy fairy.

without a second thought, you type the songs name into spotify, slicking play.

“i know you like fucking me, i can tell by the way you in love with me”

standing from the position, you back up enough to have your full body in frame. reaching on the table? your hand grabs hold of shimmering body oil. twisting this cap off, you casually take a few drops into your hand. rubbing the liquid across your chest, dipping your hand in to get your perky buds.

“you can’t get enough of me, well i guess it’s lookin like you stuck with me”

turning your back towards the camera, you look over your shoulder. eyes the only thing visible to them as you pull down one bra strap, sliding your arm through the hoop, you repeat on the other side. your fingers fiddle in the back, with a pout on your lips, you turn around. the bra only being held up by the clamps in the back. you obviously knew how to remove your bra, but for the sake of duration and money, you exaggerate.

“i wish one of you could help me take this thing off, babies.” your tone was nothing short of seductive.

“oh! got it.”

with one swift motion, the flimsy fabric falls to the floor. deciding to sit on the couch instead, you reposition the laptop.

“fuck all yo free time, you don’t need no me time, that’s you and me time”

plopping down on the cheetah print blanket, on your back, head still turned towards the chat. your hands run over your body softly, drawing out slight gasps and moans as your fingers run over your hardened nipples. you take hold of one of your breast, teasing the bud, running one hand down your abdomen to the inside of your underwear.

“we be getting so long that dick make my soul smile, that dick make me so damn proud”

fingers slip inside the tight hole, causing you to arch your back a little. collecting the slick that pooled in the red lace panties, you remove your hand slowly, twisting your body over to show the camera how slippery your middle and ring fingers were.

xxhunter: fuck

user567: lick them clean

k1nklover TOP GIFTER*: you’re such a nasty girl

k1nklover sent $250! ‘put them in your mouth’

darkprince: you’re so fucking hot, i wish my gf looked like you

userano321: let me come eat that pussy

kimgofmacity: she feeling it tonight ig lmao

barbbigb: icon icon icon legendary

nknt0: stop fucking playing with me

your eyes widen at the last comment, smirk building across your lips. without a second thought, you place the coated fingers into your mouth, humming at the taste.

“should i use a toy tonight?” the chat continues at the same frantic speed.

“if someone sends $400 you have a deal. or i can just keep playing with my nipples for the next thirty min-“

before you could get the rest of your sentence out.

nknt0 sent $400! ‘do it’

k1nklover sent $400! ‘put them in your mouth’

you reach beside the laptop, grabbing hold of the pink bunny shaped vibrator. placing the toy beside you, laying back on the couch, you push the laptop back with your toes, giggling as the viewers freak out. playing with your boobs, your slowly run your hands down the dip of your waist, fingers grabbing hold of the thin fabric. you twist, bending over in front of the camera, pulling down the panties. you feel the cool air hit your exposed cunt, the arousal dripping down your leg. reaching over to take the toy, from behind you tease your throbbing hole.

the main section of the toy runs up and down the opening. sliding in fully once, you let out a louder moan, other hand grabbing hold of the blanket. fucking the toy in and out of your sloppy cunt, moans slipping from your lips at the traction.

sitting back down, you use your coffee table to prop your legs up, dripping pussy on display to the whole stream. fingers click against the buttons at the white base of the toy. the vibrations run chills up your body, accentuating your nipple from the ripple. the ‘ears’ of the bunny press against the side of your swollen clit as you push the toy inside of you.

nanami watches. he watches as you slip the pale pink toy in and out of your hole. watching intensely as you fall apart, eyes glossed and low. your other hand grazes your titties, playing gently with them while the other abused your pussy.

a ring of white began forming around the base of the dildo. the sounds of your moans filled his airpods, dick growing harder for you with every thrust.

it should be him. he should be there right now, fucking you in front of all 10 thousand people. letting them see you crumble under his touch. watching as he pounds you down on his length, giving you several orgasms before he finishes inside you.

he couldn’t take it. he wanted to storm down to your apartment, bang on the door, and take you right there.

pulling the toy out, your body shakes in stimulation, clear liquid shooting out of you. moans rack your body as you reinsert the toy, still going. tears threatened to spill from your eyes, too blurry to focus on anything the chat was saying. instead just hearing the money sound from viewers sending funds.

you’re too caught up in fucking yourself, you barely hear the knock at your door. it comes once more before you realize you’re not overthinking.

“shit.” you mutter under your breath, scrambling to turn off the stream, tossing the toy under the couch. the chat is still scrolling, messages coming in fast, but you barely glance at them as you close your laptop.

the knock comes again, louder this time, and panic sets in. you look down at yourself, soaked in squirt and cum, oil everywhere. you couldnt slip on the see through robe, grabbing the blanket instead and wrap it around yourself as you hurry to the door.

“who is it?” you call out, your voice a little shaky.

“it’s nanami.” comes the deep, familiar voice from the other side.

your stomach flips. of all people, why him? you glance at the room, making sure nothing incriminating is in view, then tighten the blanket around yourself before unlocking the door.

when you open it, his presence fills the doorway, tall and broad, his expression a mix of frustration and something else you can’t quite place. his eyes flicker over you briefly, taking in the blanket, the faint sheen of sweat on your skin, before settling on your face.

“nanami?” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “what- what are you doing here?”

he doesn’t answer right away, his jaw working as if he’s trying to find the right words. finally, he speaks, his tone low and tense.

“was.. bored at my place. was wonder if you wanted to hang but if you’re busy-“ he eyes scan your portly covered body. he could still easily see through the thin blanket you tried to hide behind with help from your ring light.

“um yeah sure just let me put on something different. come in!”

the tall framed man slips in beside you, eyes daring to fall back on your body as you shuffled past to your room. he walks over to your couch, taking a seat on the other side of where you just sat. he couldn’t help but stare at the black laptop, finger tapping a little at his lip before reaching for the device.

just as he knew. the pink tab sat open, chat still rolling as he peered at the amount sitting in your counter.

➤ YOU HAVE EARNED 3.65KUSD FOR THIS STREAM SO FAR

his eyes widen, still watching as the count rises with every passing second. should he quit his job he spent all his life building for to do this?

“nanami? you okay in there?” you ask, shuffling for something decent to wear. deciding on a loose pair of shorts and a large football jersey.

“im good!” he responds, still scrolling around the site, being model of your camera placement.

darkprince: who the fucks the guy?

userano321: woah first cameo?

kimgofmacity: is that a dude?

nanami smiles a little before closing the laptop but not all the way. you rush from your room, makeup refreshed and wearing a new outfit. well, clothes in general. scanning the area, your heart sinks only to realize you didn’t see your bra under your glass coffee table.

“fuck.” you gasp a little.

“what’s up?” nanami asks, standing from his spot on the couch.

“uh, nothing, do you wanna go to yours?”

to be truthful, nanami had also seen the lace fabric. it was tearing him down to know you were a few feet in front of him and all he could do was stare.

“i thought we could, stay here? you have more shows to watch and i wouldn’t mind ordering us some food.”

you freeze, not sure how to act. your usual carefree attitude feels a little more strained tonight, the worry still there, lurking in the background.

“uh, I was thinking of something light. maybe a movie or some random series.”

“sounds good.” he replies, settling back into the couch.

but you can’t quite relax. you keep checking your phone, making sure there’s no notifications from your livestream, even though you know everything’s fine. it’s ridiculous, but the idea of him knowing about your streams—or worse, recognizing what you’d been doing, where you’ve been doing it. makes your stomach twist.

trying to brush it off, you grab the remote and start flicking through your streaming options, but your mind keeps wandering. the soft sound of nanami’s voice fills the air as he comments on some movie suggestions, but all you can think about is whether he’s noticed how

wet the spot he was touching was.

“you okay?” he tilts his head and catches your gaze, sensing something’s off.

you blink, caught off guard. “yeah, yeah. just- tired, sorry.”

“tired?” he repeats, clearly unconvinced.

“ i could go? im sorry for intruding on any-“ your hand grabs hold of his rather large forearm, pulling him back down.

“no! no i meant- sorry i didnt mean to yell. i mean stay, you’re here, i wanna hang with you.” he couldn’t help but stare down at your small frame being swallowed by the black jersey. sitting on the couch on both knees, batting your full lashes up at him. he licks his lips, hungry.

“okay. just let me know if you need me to go.”

“i want you here.” he plops back down on the couch, this time closer. the side of his body touching yours. you land on a psychological thriller while nanami decides to order food. the two of you bicker back and forth about what the plots twist could be.

“i think he’s actually the killer and the little girl isn’t actually possessed.” he munched on a steak bite smothered in sauce, you doing the exact same, dipping the meat into the small black container of sauce.

“that’s maybe the dumbest thing i’ve heard in awhile nami, are you sure you’re a lawyer?” the man scoffs before giving you a joking eye roll.

“for your information im like ten years older than you and i’ve been doing this for years.” he says matter-of-factly, pushing his empty container inside the cheep plastic bag, holding his hand out for your empty bowl.

“sorry, daddy, damn. forgot you were a senior citizen.”

his heart pumps at the nickname, all the blood rushing straight to his dick. shifting in his sweatpants, he coughs, relieving tension in his throat.

“oh shit- sorry i didnt mean to call you that.” your hand shoots to cover your mouth, sitting a little taller on your knees as they dig into the black cushion. the way your hand falls naively on his chest, apologies slipping through your lips. your blown out body waves create almost a curtain around your face as you sink back down to a sitting position. head hung low.

“say it again.” head shooting back up, vision being crowded by hair, you stare at the blonde man in shock.

“huh?” you mumble, watching as he stands from his position on the couch.

“did i stutter, yn? i said say it again, didn’t i?”

you can’t quite understand what got into the man but his eyes were different now. the way he adjusted the drawstrings to his pants. staring down at you, smirk covering his face, as if you were his prey.

“nanami what’s gotten into-“

he wastes no time reaching across the coffee table to grab the laptop. the stream continuing. your eyes flash from the screen to the man staring at you.

“that’s not mine.” he laughs, pushing it back so that both of you were in frame now.

“sure. what, do you think im actually fucking stupid? you don’t think i know what you were doing before you answered the door?”

your heart raced, mind scattered with excuses and explanations yet none stuck. would he tell your landlord this was the way you were making rent? did he want to use it as blackmail? why?

“what’re you doing this for?” you say softly, staring at the man who’s expression softened.

“what? baby no, im not weirded out or anything. ah- if im being honest, your last stream-“ you body shoots up from its spot on the couch, staring at the man in utter disbelief.

“you? found out where i live- you actually came to where i live? do you even really live here?” come to think of it, you’ve never actually seen him entering the apartment.

“yn. calm down. yes i actually live here, i can’t take you to mine if we need to. baby, come here.” you walk back cautiously. sitting with distance, he pulls you back over, throwing his arm around your waist. you watch on the stream, the comments start up again. his head dips between your head and shoulder, lips pressed softly against your neck.

“say my name again.”

“daddy.” you moan out, earning a rasp from the man before you’re flipped over on all fours on the couch. pulling down your shorts, his head dips down, admiring the still glossy view.

“no panties either, it’s like you wanted me, princess. am i right?” he teases, pressing a soft kiss to your core. your head plops on the side, viewing as your chat went belligerent.

“answer me pretty girl, am i right?” his tongue licks from your swollen clit up to your hole, grasping at air.

“yes, sir! please- please do that again!” tears prick your eyes, tension building under the surface as you try to keep your cool.

his somewhat cool tongue begins to pump in and out of you, sounds of friction filling the room. his large hands grab hold of your arms, pinning them behind you back as he continued to add spit into eating you.

he’s lost in sweet you are. how wet you were against his face. how the soft skin of your thighs cup his cheeks, nose right below your hole, poking at the foreign area. you tasted like heaven. the sweet slick drove him crazy, unable to pull away from any of it. he wanted to eat all of you, unapologetically.

“oh- fuck your tongue feels so- fuck!” a string of curses leave your lips. feeling the man’s tongue swirl around your swollen clit, almost folding you in half. his unoccupied hand starts to remove his sweatpants fully.

“im gonna cum, daddy.” you warn, vision blurring. he doesn’t answer, instead he continues to fuck his lengthy tongue into you. you release over the man’s mouth, body going limp. laughing, he pulls away.

“oh, you’re not done.”

-

your pink glossed lips wrap around the man’s tip, back arched on the couch. his hand held your hair back, watching as you try to fit all of him in your mouth, only to fall short before your gag reflex is triggered. vibrations from the man laughing draws a frown from you.

“what’s wrong, princess. can’t be up the shit you talk to them? try that with me. get on your knees.”

before you could process, you were on your knees in front of the man. he still had hold of your hair, looking down at you. erens eyes dart up at the chat

xxhunter: make her choke on your cock

user567: train her throat

k1nklover TOP GIFTER*: how tf did he get to fuck her before me, this shits lame now.

randobando: i wish i was both of them

eren begins to gently lower your head down his length, watching as you try your hardest to go all the way down his massive cock, tears pricking at your eyes.

“stick your tongue out, baby. say ahh.” you follow the directions, throat vibrating. although it felt strange, it was working. your head bobbed up and down, slowly gaining more.

with low and red eyes, you look up at the man. he’s lost in a haze, enjoying how your throat was closing around him. eyes roll to the back of his head as you speed up, adding both your hands around him.

“oh my fucking god, you’re so good at this.” head falling back onto the couch, you hum, continuing to tease his swollen tip with your tongue. drawing your name on it in spit.

“lay on your back.” without hesitation you follow his orders, laying on your back. he hovers over you, taking both feet, giving your white polished toes kisses before throwing them over his shoulders.

without hesitation, you’re full of the man. gasping at how far open you were being stretched, youd never had anything like this before. your nails seek solace on the man’s back, dragging ruby red lines down his torso. his starts slow, digging into your g-spot, getting a feel of how far he could actually take you.

his strokes slow yet unforgiving, gummy walls trying to keep his length inside as he pulled out. your arousal covered his dick, creating loud slap,slap,slap! sounds.

“so fucking sweet, knew you would be.” his head cocks to the side, admiring his view. you fucked out under him, tears falling from the squinted corners of your eyes.

“im gonna cum, baby!” you warn, the burning sensation running circles around your insides. you could feel his pace quicken, trying to get every bit of a reaction. it’s like he was locked in a trance, unable to stop abusing your puffy cunt. his rhythm never faltered as he drilled into you, pressing your body deeper into the couch.

“me too- fuck.” as if on que, you both finish at the same time, bodies dropping from exhaustion. and whatever in the moment possessed you, you take hold of the males jaw, interlocking your lips together.

nanami wastes no time leaning over to the laptop, letting you wave a weak ‘bye’ to your viewers before sliding back onto the couch, placing his lips back on yours.

“wanna go again?”

➤ YOU HAVE EARNED 10.61KUSD FOR THIS STREAM.

© vantetaes. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize any of my works. ageless/blank blogs dni.

[daenysx]

hi angel! a drabble about yapper gf with remus if you’d please <3

hi, gorgeous, thank you so much for requesting!! i'm sorry this is short but this was all i could do and i wanted to answer as soon as i can <3333

remus lupin x fem!reader, fluff

"and then i was supposed find who mr. cole is, everyone was saying he was like the most important person in the office, so i felt really nervous. like, if he asks me something and i can't answer? can you imagine how bad it would be?"

"yes, dove." remus answers. "but why can't you answer?"

"because- these are intimidating people, remus. what if i say something stupid and ruin my chances? god, i felt so stressed, my stomach was aching."

remus hands you your cup of tea. you take a slow sip, your throat feels a bit raw but you need to tell every detail of your first day at the office to your boyfriend. you texted him when you can but of course it wasn't enough to let him know everything.

"so, you found mr. cole?" remus asks, rubbing your thigh with a big hand.

"yes. turns out he's actually nice, i asked him a few things about my work and he always answered with a smile. he told someone to show me the break room and he wished me good luck."

"that's so nice." remus says. "who was that person he asked, did you get to be friends?"

"i think so." you answer. it's not surprising to remus, you've always been easy to talk to. people love your sunshiny attitude, your ability to find common grounds to say things to them. "her name is victoria, i think it's a really nice name, so i told her that. she showed me the break room and how to work the coffee machine in case i need it. she was super nice, she told me all the basics to get used to the people in the office."

"i think you'll do perfect." remus says.

"you're being so nice to me, but i can't be so nice." you say with a small pout. "i mean, i'm always a bit worried to do something wrong, and i don't know the place so well now that i'm new. i don't wanna do something i don't mean to by accident. or you know, getting into someone's way. or being known the wrong way. it's like a nightmare, i always try to keep my cool. like, i'm trying to walk in the office with my heels and i look so confident, right? if only they knew what i was thinking in real."

at this point remus has to cup your cheeks and kiss you soundly. do you realize how sweet you're being? you immediately give in to the kiss, your hands stroking his hair to keep him close to you. you wish it could be possible to have him with you in the office, too. you could just get a kiss and your mood would be fixed.

"i wish we could do this in the office, too." he needs to know what you think, so you tell him. "i would be less nervous."

remus chuckles, his thumb drawing circles on your cheek. "we can try." he says. "but i'd hate if mr. cole finds out. what would he think of his new employee then?"

"that she's in love with a gorgeous, angel boy?"

"come here." he says. he will kiss you for hours if that's what it takes for you to stop being so sweet. his poor heart will not take it.