#i'm too soft for these tropes
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s0ckh3adstudios · 2 months ago
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Isafrin parenthood arc? Sorry I'm ill. this is Adelaide their adopted daughter with a dry sense of humor and a resting deadpan face please give her all your cookies and lollipops.
Continuing with the theme of finding your family in ISAT, the two met Adelaide and eventually the bond was formed. I do have ideas on how they met (it has to do with the first doodle) and while it took awhile, it did result with Adoption
A little glimpse into the future... Many years later and the saviour family has returned to their own homes (not without frequent visits of course) but Siffrin and Isabeau stuck together.
I've been calling this scenario/family Final Touch.... Final Touch AU... like a reference to the Bad Touch event... but positive... and Adelaide is like... the final touch to what they've got going on do you understand do you sense my vision. I have manymany thoughts about this so if you guys are actually interested in this. let me know????????????
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orengejoshi · 12 days ago
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Pregnancy as a kink makes me uncomfortable so man am I glad your pregg Flug stuff is explicitly not kink oriented!
yeah I... don't wanna judge anyone... but it's more than that, it's downright terrifying to me. Blame my hormones bc I'm expecting irl but wow... I'm very sensitive and it feels dehumanizing. but ig that is kinda the point of the kink(?)
it's so common in fandoms!
I'm completely vanilla anyway tho, so not surprising.
I've tried to pretend for a super long time that I'm into kink, but most of them are off putting and I consider them intrusive thoughts, not fantasies. I'm kinda fluctuating between sex-repulsed and neutral (aroace) even fictional... ig kink just isn't for me. I tried so hard to get over it. I know some people in my asks/requests are gonna be disappointed but I'm sorry💔
I'm slightly ashamed of how boring I am and I have serious trouble connecting to anyone in fandoms due to this actually🤕 feel like the most NT autistic person ever.
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anyway here's a doodle!
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gods-perfect-idiots · 1 month ago
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❤️💛
#soft poolverine my beloved#I contain multitudes as far as trope enjoying goes (Logan likes Wade's yapping AND Logan likes to shut Wade up the old fashioned way)#(aka sticking his tongue down his throat)#(among other things but we're sticking with that for this one lol)#Wade is yapping about something#anything really because he can monologue about anything under the sun#and Logan just reaches over wordlessly and grabs his face and Wade just KEEPS TALKING#and every time Logan comes up for air Wade just starts up again#and Logan just smirks and takes a deep breath and goes back in#he gets some silence for a moment AND gets to feel that endless energy fizzing on his tongue#as Wade focuses his nervous mental energy on exploring Logan's mouth for a bit#you know they are SLOPPY kissers#just drool and teeth and tongues EVERYWHERE#I bet kissing Wade is interesting too because his tongue and lips are all ridged and scarred#anyway I just think Logan would shut him up once in a while for like hours long makeout sessions#and then peacefully go back to listening to him yammer endlessly about the minutiae of the My Little Pony Extended Universe#poolverine#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine#deadpool#kinda wip?#are any of these ever really FINISHED or do I just give up on them and move on 🫠#also dont get me wrong they def fuck nasty too#but I think Logan “Touch Starved As Fuck” Howlett would really revel in just being able to touch him lazily for hours#idk man I'm too far gone I need to be anaesthetized#deadpool & wolverine#deadclaws#wade wilson#poolverine fanart#deadpool x wolverine
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supernormalblogname · 4 months ago
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Love when a pred and a prey have very differing feelings about the vore that is taking place...
prey who's had a Huuuuge one-sided crush on this pred and has been wanting to get eaten by them for a while, and it's Finally happening - their heart feels like its beating right out of their chest they're so excited... whereas the pred barely knows who they are, they're just hungry, and there's free food right in front of them.
or a prey who's been eaten many, many times before by many different preds, trying to convince a first-timer pred that For the Last time its Fine, I'll be Fine, I trust you. Meanwhile the pred is doing what feels like the Biggest and Strangest thing they've ever done in their life.
When to one of them its Such a Big Thing, and to the other its like 🤷‍♀️ regular tuesday. i like that kind of dynamic..
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delusionalblfan · 11 months ago
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you know what i miss the most? a stable mental state
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harmoniouseclipse · 5 months ago
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Me and my freaking ship charts for my freaky mind
#I'm gonna rant about them in the tags a lil bit so bear with me#I really like the idea of them taking turns “spooning” each other (or just one laying on top of the other idk)#bc they listen to each others' heartbeats since Lisa's dying lmao#and idk where losa being taller came from#but her canon height says she's 5'11 and i believe it honestly#and kind of the same thing with her being trans; i just think it's a neat character study#especially since we dont know anything about her past or who she was before the game's events#and i didnt rly know how to mark Jean's flirtiness levels because Jean flirtation is VERY different from Lisa flirtation#hers is much more unintentional or very charming like a kiss to the back of Lisa's hand or dancing her around her office when it's late#and she speaks formally too which adds to the unintentional rizz#Lisa cant help but fall for her fr#and i think they are the embodiment of the “fell first fell harder” trope#Lisa falls first and she's content to watch Jean from afar bc she knows how important her job and Mond are to her#and then Jean finally catches up tripping falling bleeding all over ripping her heart out to show Lisa how it beats for her#altho i think it was hard for her to come to terms with it especially since she doesnt want her personal life to interfere with work#so she has to find the balance first#and Jean also knows that being flirty is just who Lisa is and that they are both extremely loyal to each other#but Lisa gets pushed a lot probably when other women start hitting on Jean a little too much#and they're both equally overprotective of each other especially out on dangerous missions#but Lisa feels like she HAS to protect Jean more bc of her importance to the safety of Mond#this is just me rambling tho im literally so in love with them bc theyre just so soft and the wives ever#i am the most sane jeanlisa shipper actually#ty for coming to my ted talk#jean gunnhildr#lisa mici#jeanlisa#genshin impact#ship chart#character art is mine
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sysig · 7 months ago
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Looking his very best, as much as he can anyhow (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Damned#ZEX#The Captain#The theme of this set is ZEX's hair! So I guess Max's hair really lol#But double really it's ZEX's hair because Max would never let this happen to his hair lol poor abused hair haha#Cute floofy ZEX is cute and floofy <3#He can't control the hair - no hair bones here unfortunately lol - but at least there's something around his head eh?#Max with a buzz cut! Ah!!! The problem is I love him no matter what so I think he looks cute literally anyhow haha#S'cold! As if ZEX wasn't already sensitive haha - he gets a buzz cut and is just ''?????'' the whole time#And then someone pets his hair and it upgrades to ''?!?!?!?!?!'' haha#Weird to not have anything in his peripherals too :0 Always /some/thing to the sides of his head!#I think he looks quite silly in the third one lol - I would say I drew his hair too short but it's actually more accurate isn't it#Max's hair is like chin/shoulder-length! I just can't help myself haha long flowing hair is so fun and pretty <3#No he's beautiful however I stand by it#ZEX with slightly damp but not actually clean hair haha of course it feels strange! Not just water in there!#Actually drawing his green ends for a change haha ♪ And the grey in his hair! ;; ZEEEX weh#You can just barely see I tried to use one of my skin-tone pencils from the Crayola set but it doesn't scan the best :P#Or apply the best honestly lol they're quite hard pencils - I'm used to a softer formula like the yellow and green there! Very soft and nice#Yaaay Captain hehe <3 This is what you get for trusting someone untrustworthy ZEX lol#Okay but the way I reacted to reading there was Yarn tied in his hair I had a Normal reaction and I'm Fine about it lol#I made it red for Funsies and no other reason lol - really it's just the pen I (still) always have on hand haha#There's some in my blue as well! Just not as obviously lol - no wait that's one of his colours too just ignore that <3#ZEX is adorable ♪ The alien not understanding human traditions and culture trope is so lovely on him#And honestly the Captain is a very good sport hehe <3 He takes a lot in stride! Good for him
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arviyya · 3 months ago
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Rosekiller being absolute menaces, but with the softest sides for each other is the rosekiller for me.
Barty with his piercing glare that can make someone bleed, but softens only for Evan.
Evan with his sharp words that cut like a knife, but sweetens like honey just for Barty.
Both of them with their rough edges, cutting tongues, and self destruction, seeking chaos only to find the peace they didn't know they needed.
Rosekiller who never thought they could love until they found each other.
That's the rosekiller for me.
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fitzrove · 1 year ago
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I think I'm struggling creatively because as time goes on I find less and less motivation to write (and read, tbh!) stuff that's
good wholesome queer representation
escapist everything-gets-better fantasy ("because life is hard enough why would you write about miserable things")
palatable to people who disagree with me
And obviously I'm nowhere near finishing even a single original thing yet ahdfhajf but I've been looking at publishing videos that people who have experience in the industry have made and. Man no wonder that so much milquetoast stuff gets put out nowadays
#not to be a hater and controversial but#the fact that its often straight people judging whether queer representation has problematic elements (and similar situations)#and lots of queer media seems to be made with straight people in mind (at least as a considerable portion of the audience)#and ugh in general/unrelated like. i just want to write litfic about the human condition XDD and structural inequality#but if i do it with fanfic nobody will read it because my most popular fics will always be ones where white men kiss each other for 3k word#obviously i'm grateful that anyone reads anything i write aggdhfh it's very nice to be heard#but fr my most popular fics are NOT my best ones#and yeah like if i write original fiction it's unlikely to do well in publishing because there's no hot sexy straight romance or wholesome#soft high school good representation queer people:3#maybe i can put in a red herring twink guy idk#also i'm just so bitter about linguistic inequality still XDD like. in a video abt fantasy tropes the person making the video hates they#said that they hate 'overly long fantasy names' that they can't pronounce#which just made me go 'silence anglo' mentally because omfg super often those names are just BASED ON CULTURES YOU'RE NOT PART OF#(disclaimer i know not all english speakers are ignorant hahfjsdhjfj)#but yeah its funny when old english inspired names are too hard for modern english speakers like welcome to being anyone else lol#its somehow considered a minimum requirement of knowledge to be able to pronounce names like george and matthew correctly#but then for other languages it's a special courtesy if people say names right#afujishgfis and this is just one example#rant#writing#literature
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bearsace · 1 year ago
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not the way motonari route has me by the THROAT rn... and i thought ieyasu was the one who bias-wrecked me for my ikesen replay...
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blue-bird-lamentation · 2 years ago
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pygmi-says-hi · 2 months ago
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STOP DOING THIS IN INJURY FICS!!
Bleeding:
Blood is warm. if blood is cold, you’re really fucking feverish or the person is dead. it’s only sticky after it coagulates.
It smells! like iron, obv, but very metallic. heavy blood loss has a really potent smell, someone will notice.
Unless in a state of shock or fight-flight mode, a character will know they’re bleeding. stop with the ‘i didn’t even feel it’ yeah you did. drowsiness, confusion, pale complexion, nausea, clumsiness, and memory loss are symptoms to include.
blood flow ebbs. sometimes it’s really gushin’, other times it’s a trickle. could be the same wound at different points.
it’s slow. use this to your advantage! more sad writer times hehehe.
Stab wounds:
I have been mildly impaled with rebar on an occasion, so let me explain from experience. being stabbed is bizarre af. your body is soft. you can squish it, feel it jiggle when you move. whatever just stabbed you? not jiggly. it feels stiff and numb after the pain fades. often, stab wounds lead to nerve damage. hands, arms, feet, neck, all have more motor nerve clusters than the torso. fingers may go numb or useless if a tendon is nicked.
also, bleeding takes FOREVER to stop, as mentioned above.
if the wound has an exit wound, like a bullet clean through or a spear through the whole limb, DONT REMOVE THE OBJECT. character will die. leave it, bandage around it. could be a good opportunity for some touchy touchy :)
whump writers - good opportunity for caretaker angst and fluff w/ trying to manhandle whumpee into a good position to access both sites
Concussion:
despite the amnesia and confusion, people ain’t that articulate. even if they’re mumbling about how much they love (person) - if that’s ur trope - or a secret, it’s gonna make no sense. garbled nonsense, no full sentences, just a coupla words here and there.
if the concussion is mild, they’re gonna feel fine. until….bam! out like a light. kinda funny to witness, but also a good time for some caretaking fluff.
Fever:
you die at 110F. no 'oh no his fever is 120F!! ahhh!“ no his fever is 0F because he’s fucking dead. you lose consciousness around 103, sometimes less if it’s a child. brain damage occurs at over 104.
ACTUAL SYMPTOMS:
sluggishness
seizures (severe)
inability to speak clearly
feeling chilly/shivering
nausea
pain
delirium
symptoms increase as fever rises. slow build that secret sickness! feverish people can be irritable, maybe a bit of sass followed by some hurt/comfort. never hurt anybody.
ALSO about fevers - they absolutely can cause hallucinations. Sometimes these alter memory and future memory processing. they're scary shit guys.
fevers are a big deal! bad shit can happen! milk that till its dry (chill out) and get some good hurt/comfort whumpee shit.
keep writing u sadistic nerds xox love you
ALSO I FORGOT LEMME ADD ON:
YOU DIE AT 85F
sorry I forgot. at that point for a sustained period of time you're too cold to survive.
pt 2
also please stop traumadumping in the notes/tags, that's not the point of this post. it's really upsetting to see on my feed, so i'm muting the notifs for this post. if you have a question about this post, dm me, but i don't want a constant influx of traumatic stories. xox
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overexciteddragon · 6 months ago
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I need to fucking talk about this scene BADLY
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The fact that DunMeshi actually depicts starving dwarves as ripped muscular anime boys is, to me, absolutely incredible. I can't stress how often fat people starving are depicted as either skin and bones or ✨️beautiful and healthy✨️ (the latter being a body shape that they are encouraged to maintain), it's straight up a trope in so much media for skinny people to be depicted as fat in the past as if it's some "dirty secret", or for fat people to be depicted as unhealthy/ugly until they starve themselves enough to become "attractive", and on top of that the depiction of the Dehydrated Adonis Protagonist has become more and more present in our day-to-day media
Meanwhile, it's becoming more widely known that this isn't how bodies work at all; that fat isn't inherently unhealthy and that ripped bodies aren't just impossible to maintain but often quite dangerous. All of that put together, the depiction of more actors and characters that are fat, chubby, large, etc and not used as comedic relief has been so, so important to really hammer home that lean, dehydrated muscular bodies aren't necessarily something to aim for
But especially, dwarves being shown to have the same physical features as these ripped muscly characters (lean, bulging muscles, sharp cheekbones, defined pecs and neck muscles, etc) when they're starved, and that being depicted negatively is such a huge deal. This is also coming from the same anime in which one of its male protagonists is the epitome of the hero-- an athletic tall man in a shining knight's armour with a big shiny sword-- and he isn't shredded, he's got a tummy, he's got soft arms, he's clearly strong and muscular but it's all protected by a healthy layer of body fat
I'm never gonna shut up about how Dungeon Meshi has been such an incredible vehicle of body diversity with neither insidious fatphobia/queerphobia/racism nor performative (and frankly harmful) allyship behind it. I'm excited for how many young people (and older too!) will be made to slowly but surely question their internalized and ingrained fatphobia or general medical misunderstandings about weight as they watch/read this series. These are such important details and not enough media addresses them in such subtle but clear ways.
Bless Ryoko Kui but also bless Trigger for not doing what a lot of studios do (thinning characters and lightening their skin colours)
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beeseverywhen · 2 years ago
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Honestly like this is a problem with fiction in general. We take woman characters and file them down. You don't want her to be a bad person or just a human person because to give her any kind of flaw is anti woman in the way that tropey 'crazy bitch' characters are anti woman. I think that we forget that both these takes stem from the same place. This idea that the perfect woman is maternal, kind, wifely and loving and to be anything else is unnatural, is the root of sexism in the first place. You aren't subverting sexism by making women characters flat and sanding down the corners that make her human, you are just feeding in to sexism in a more subtle way. Than someone who decides all women characters are manipulative or whatever other trope they've keyed in on.
I've read a few gillian flynn (gone girl) interviews where she talks about how in the horror and thriller genres there's just a massive lack of complicated women.
If you do get a bad woman, her character is often just completely flat. She's bad cause she is, there's no motivation behind it or depth. Its almost like there's this expectation that women can't be evil and selfish and bad people in the way that men can be, like just by being a villan, that character has subverted everything you'd expect from a woman and so you don't need to explain her motivation, she's just crazy and gone wrong. The kind of tropey 'crazy bitch' character that's almost more of a nod towards women being kind and inherietly gentle than an actual nice female character, because you are supposed to look at her and go 'a real woman could never'.
Then you get one step on from this where people try to make their bad woman characters not flat by like just excusing all that made her bad? The whole cruella treatment. You give them a horrible back story and kind of sell the reader this line where you are like 'see she never could have been good, she was made this way'
The reason gillian flynn talks about this is that her specialty is writing horrible women; complicated, evil characters, as you see in 99% of thrillers with male villians; as her way of contributing towards filling that gap. And bizarrely, people seem to think this makes her anti feminist? Which honestly is a take that blows my mind having read her writing and having actually read books where the internalised misogyny of the author really does bleed through.
The villans in her books are horrible people and that isn't excused at all. In all of her characters, villan or otherwise, she shows a scale of badness in women that you just don't see often in fiction, from the unmistakably evil to the well intentioned but selfish and everything in between. Her villans do awful things and they blame that on other people, on their pasts, and through other complicated women in the story she shows us that those things aren't excusible. We all do bad things and we all hurt people sometimes, but we don't all choose to do things that awful, to keep doing them unrepentant, no matter what happened to us. We see that they had a choice and to do what they did does make them evil.
The consistent feeling that bleeds through all of her writing however? I've never had any doubt that she loves women. Her writing isn't a show of internalised misogyny, it's a show of her love for what she is. These horrific characters are a love letter to us, a gift, as are the shows of the 'good' female characters being flawed. Women are enough as we are and we deserve to see ourselves represented in the full range of humanity, as so many books do with men.
She is reframing tropes that we are used to only seeing in a sexist way. Manipulative women. A scorned womans revenge. 'Trapping' someone with a pregnancy. Falsifying abuse. And showing that none of those are a 'woman' thing, they may not always be intentional but they are never excusible, to do those things and to refuse to take resposibilty for them is a 'being a bad person thing.' Just like how rape and sexual abuse and controlling behavior aren't 'men' things, though often we see them being perpetuated by masculine characters. There are people in this world who do more bad than good and they aren't that way because of the gender they identify as and they aren't that way because of their assigned sex. They are that way because after hurting people, rather than taking responsibility for that and trying to do better, they keep choosing to hurt people some more. In writing all these flawed women she's handing power back to us. Saying that everyone does bad things even women and to expect them not to is to set them up to fail and also that these tropes aren't 'woman' things they are bad people things. Reframing the divide as 'bad' people (those who choose to hurt others and keep doing so) and the rest of us (do bad but try to do better) rather than this weird predator prey take on men vs women. There is nothing less sexist.
That thing people do with female characters where they like, in their attempts to compensate for the unfairly negative way that female characters are often treated by fandoms they end up overshooting and just making them Too Good and flawless and endlessly caring and loving and patient and incapable of doing or being wrong and just removing everything that’s distinctive about the character, making her completely flat & forgettable & uninteresting, because they don’t want to say anything about her or depict her doing anything that might possibly be interpreted negatively.
#this is the hill i'm dying on#we need more complex flawed and more awful women characters to make the world more friendly towards women. not less#making female characters perfect feeds in to this unrealistic expectation that women aren't human#and that anyone acting human while a woman is a terrible person. no they aren't#here is what a terrible woman looks like. strangely similar to a terrible man#reason those sexist trope bad woman are harmful is because their characters are also flat. so it makes ppl think oh a irl woman could never#and they split irl women in to 'real' women who are kind loving & nuturing and then those who aren't 2d wife from birth is unnatural#so you get women who are self hating because they cant be perfect and they distrust any woman who doesn't 'act natural'#which terfs are an extreme of right. they can't understand how any amab person could transition because they see woman as like#nutring from birth and men as aggressive from birth and they can't see how anyone could be anything else and then you've got incels#who've got this idealised idea of what women 'naturally' are and any woman who doesn't match up to the idea in their heads is going against#nature just to deny them. an evil ursurper who won't fuck them#we need more women characters who are horrible and more who are human and try to be nice but are flawed. And we need male characters that#are soft and nuturing and gentle but also still human if we are to balance the scales and show that humans are just human#some are flawed and trying to better and some are flawed but trying to do worse and gender is not the distinction#people need to remember that a good character isn't a mirror of the author. its a character. fiction helps us grow. we see reflections of#ourselves that remind us nobody is perfect and that's OK. those that are better than us show we can do better and then#those that are worse show us what not to do. they help us be better too.
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corinthianism · 1 year ago
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corinthianism's fic recs
here are my personal favorite fanfics! idk how often i'll update this, but i hope you like them as much as i do :) *indicates smut
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last updated: march 26, 2024
MARVEL
loki laufeyson - from the void, with love — by whirlybirbs (my fav fanfic of all time!!! i think about this fic several times in a day bro) - riptide — by starks-hero - the tailor* (series) — by birdofhermes (ao3) - time after time (series) — by goldencherriess (ao3) - a friend from work — by cozy_the_overlord (ao3)
thor odinson - god of fertility* (request) — by charnelhouse - highway don't care (but i do, i do)* (part one, part two, part three) — by spacelabrathor
peter parker (andrew garfield) - agree to disagree — by delicate-dorothea - nerdy peter (request) — by webslingingslasher - good boy x bad girl trope (request) — by webslingingslasher - hold you here, my loveliest friend* — by p3mybeloved - your friendly neighborhood sensitive spider* — by jin0 - glad you're home — by withahappyrefrain - the mechanics of a soul — by irndad - 3 is the magic number* — by withahappyrefrain - crush — by ptersparkers - as it goes — by forever-rogue - here comes the sun (part one, part two, part three) — by withahappyrefrain - stability, reciprocity, and a romance for the ages (series) — by privateanxieties (ao3 - need an account to read)
steven grant (moon knight) - hold me close — by stormkobra-5 - gift of min* — by astroboots - puzzles* — by stormkobra-5 - first time* — by luvpedropascal - domestic adonis* — by peterman-spideyparker - where it starts — by silversweetpea - fallen from heaven, grown on earth* (series) — by davosmymaster (ao3) - call me poe* — by kittyfandom (ao3) - elemental — by batsingotham (ao3) - the boy with the thorn in his side — by eating_flowers (ao3)
marc spector (moon knight) - not him — by loud-mouth-loser - it's worth it, it's divine* — by the-archxr - i'm getting to know someone — by davosmymaster (ao3)
wade wilson (deadpool) - tea and sympathy (series) — by bucketsoffrogs (ao3)
SHERLOCK (BBC)
sherlock holmes - your hidden strength — by okay-j-hannah - sublime dexterity* (part one, part two) — by daydreamtofiction - literally everything by starks-hero
SUPERNATURAL
sam winchester - playing house (part one, part two) — by uncouth-the-fifth - baby i'll stay (heaven can wait) — by uncouth-the-fifth - move over.* — by ggwritesstuff - where's your head at?* — by beau55515 - birthdays: sam winchester style* — by karleekarma (ao3) - the comforts of home — by zepskies - under the hood* — by shawslut
dean winchester - whether you like it or not — by kbeautimous (ao3) - reading you wrong — by zepskies - cherished — by thatonewriter15 (ao3) - soft touch — by wearywinchester - i love her, that's why* — by kaleldobrev - drivin' me crazy* — by lis-likes-fics
castiel - salt n' lick* — by aperfectgrace (ao3) - a bite of apple pie (series) — by ac_deanc (ao3)
THE SANDMAN
the corinthian - bring me a dream* (series, ongoing) — by placeinthemiddleofnowhere - nihil — by lis-likes-fics
dream/morpheus - sweet dreams (are made of this) — by stranger-nightmare
CRIMINAL MINDS
aaron hotchner - from eden — by heliotropehotch - gold star — by honeypiehotchner - love, an abstract concept — by luveline - honeymoon phase* (series) — by hotchsbitch (ao3)
THE BOYS
soldier boy (he's absolutely horrible but so. so. hot.) - break me down* (series) — by zepskies (go read their other stuff too!) - talk to me — by zepskies
homelander (also absolutely horrible. would sleep with him.) - if i can't have you — by watchstarscollide - milky white* — by after-witch
GAME OF THRONES
jaime lannister - i'm not made by design — by ichorai (this legitimately changed my brain chemistry)
STAR WARS
obi-wan kenobi - like turning on the light* — by full-time-make-believer (deactivated acc) (this also changed the trajectory of my life) - where it wasn't* — by 221bshrlocked - your thoughts are loud — by spidersbane - empty me out* — by 221bshrlocked - house of memories* (series) — by meshlasolus - bad idea, right?* (series) — by mischiefling (ao3) - you make me feel like dancing — by saradika (ao3) - it's a wonderful lie — by firstofficerwiggles (ao3) - temptation's kiss — by karasong (ao3) - you make my dreams* — by wickedscribbles (ao3) - like a living mirage — by karasong (ao3) - broken drought* — by rosalindbeatrice (ao3) - never grow up — by doihavetoloseyoutoo (ao3) - never ending story — by kybercrystal (ao3) - volveré* — by kxnobi (ao3)
din djarin (the mandalorian) - the savior* (part one, part two, part three) — by dindjiarin - significant — by softlyspector - touching din — by archieimagines - uncharted territory* — by pedrito-friskito - creed* — by wheresarizona - home is wherever i'm with you* (part one, part two, part three) — by saradika
DRACULA (BBC)
count dracula - the székely* (series) — by theplumsoldier
LOTR/THE HOBBIT
thranduil oropherion - a boon* (series) — by inksplots (ao3) - beauty and the beast (series) — by tamurilofrivendell (ao3)
DOCTOR SLEEP
dan torrance - of monsters and men* — by helaintoloki & obitwo - domestic life (headcanons) — by thornsinmycrown - smut alphabet* — by daincrediblegg
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slytherinslut0 · 2 months ago
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SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER
october 4th. mattheo - virginity loss / corruption kink.
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PART TWO | kinktober masterlist. | 2024.
summary: pls read part one first for a lil buildup. also. im laughing at myself bc there was a perfectly good bed…right there…
warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, virginity loss, PIV, so much dirty talk, so much patience from mattheo, (more of a realistic virginity loss bc it’s not always easy), praise!!!!, slight degradation, fingering, multiorgasm, handjob, best friends lil sister trope.
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Mattheo Riddle was so accustomed to this. The pulse of adrenaline in the dead of night, the quiet hum of anticipation stretching every second longer than it needed to be. You weren't naive to that, not to him, nor the danger he carried so effortlessly in his stride. He wore it like a second skin.
But you—you were not accustomed to it. Not to any of this.
So when you pushed open the door to the room of requirement a little over ten-minutes later, you hadn't been sure what you were expecting to find. Something darker, maybe. More foreboding. But when the room revealed itself before you—silent, draped in soft moonlight that pooled over the bed with a window wide and open, spilling that pale silver fog across the floor—you almost laughed.
Too perfect. Too on the nose, like the castle itself had been watching you both for months and had decided this was the moment it would indulge you.
"You're late." Mattheo's voice cut through the quiet.
His back was to you, suit jacket discarded on an old oak desk against the wall, dark curls falling just above his collar as he stood by the window, eyes fixed on the lake. The moonlight made the ripples dance, just like the tension in the room.
You took a step toward him, silent.
He turned, finally. His eyes met yours and you saw it—the hesitation, the way his gaze moved over you, slow, cautious. He took in the way the light draped itself over your shoulders, moving lower—and it was as if for the first time, he allowed himself to see you fully, all the details he had so tried to ignore, now right in front of him. He drank them in.
You gave him a small, nervous smile, hoping it would ease the weight of his stare. "I didn't realize you were the type to keep track of time."
He moved closer, but not close enough. Not yet. His breath was tight, chest rising and falling too fast. The space between you felt like a chasm, though it was barely there at all.
"You've a lot to learn, little girl," he teased, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, though it did nothing to mask the conflict in his eyes. It was meant to disarm you, but it only made the air heavier. His jaw tightened. "You're sure about this?"
"Quite sure," you breathed, stepping closer, close enough to admire the sharp line of his jaw, the soft stubble. "You're the one who's hesitating."
"I'm not hesitating," he muttered, though the roughness in his voice betrayed him. He knew he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be doing this with you. His best friend's little sister. He wanted to give you every chance to stop this, to walk away. "Just trying not to rush this—rush you."
You let out a small huff, your hand moving up to find his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. Mattheo Riddle was nervous.
"You've been making me wait for months," you whispered. "I don't think a little rushing would hurt."
He swallowed hard, his eyes locked on your hand as it trailed over his chest, lower, teasing. Every touch was a flame against his skin, every breath between you a match struck in the dark. He wanted you, more than anything, but the weight of it—the wrongness, the danger—clawed at his conscience.
His hand caught your wrist, intending to stop you, but his fingers lingered against your skin. Frozen.
"We shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, the words thick in his throat. "Your first time should be—"
"My choice," you interrupted, pressing closer, your body flush against his, your lips brushing his jaw as your hand slid lower, teasing the edge of his belt. "My virginity is mine to give, Mattheo. And I want to give it to you."
He shuddered, your words settling, sinking into the dark space that held you both captive. His hand found your hip, the other threading through your hair, gently tugging your head back to expose the soft skin of your neck.
"You’re not thinking straight," he rasped. "You'll regret this..."
But even as he said it, his hands tightened, pulling you impossibly closer.
"I'll regret nothing." Your fingers slipped lower, grazing his crotch, moving with nothing but instinct and need. Biting your lip, you felt the outline of him, hard and aching under your palm, and squeezed—he grunted, snapping his hips, and you throbbed. "Shit, Mattheo..."
"You are—fuck..." Mattheo's voice was a ragged breath, the words drawn out like he'd been holding them back for months. "...such a little tease."
You let go as quickly as you'd squeezed, and he growled against your skin, fingers tightening in your hair. Your hands found his face, pulling him in, crushing your lips to his. You moved with intent, pushing him back until his thighs hit the edge of the desk, and he groaned again—this low, guttural sound that sent a thrill through you.
You smirked into the kiss, tasting his frustration, savouring the way his defences cracked open. When you pulled back, his chest was heaving, lips swollen, eyes dark with want.
"I learned from the best," you whispered, teasing as your fingers slid down, finding the buckle of his belt. He watched you, every breath uneven, as you worked at the latch, pulling the leather free. "You've had months of fun tormenting me," you continued, moving to the button, the zipper. "Kissing me, only to say it was a mistake. Grabbing my ass every chance you could. Talking sweet when my brother wasn't looking..." your smirk deepened, and you looked up at him through your lashes. "...it's my turn now."
His pants sagged around his hips as you undid them and he cursed under his breath—his brain was struggling to catch up, like he couldn't believe the sudden shift, couldn't quite fathom the boldness with which you undid him.
Until—his hands were on you, spinning you around, your back hitting the desk with a thud.
"You think you're in control here?" His fingers slid up your hips, dragging your dress along with them, baring your skin to the cool air. "You think you have any goddamn idea what you're doing?"
You shuddered—you'd never seen him like this before—there was something feral in the way he moved, now, something sharp in the way his hands worked. His thumbs hooked around your panties and in one swift motion, they were gone—torn down your thighs before he urged you back onto the desk, parting your legs with his torso.
You were breathless, chest heaving, pulse thrumming wildly. His presence consumed the room, and for a moment, it was all you could focus on—the intensity of him, the raw, unfiltered hunger in his eyes.
You stared up at him, mind empty, until—
Smack.
His palm came down on your inner thigh, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to send a jolt of sensation straight to your cunt. Your skin stung from the contact, but that wasn't the part that made you gasp. It was the heat, the way it surged through your veins, flooding your abdomen in a slow, aching pulse. You liked that.
"I asked you a question." His lips brushed against your ear, breath warm as he leaned in. "Two, actually."
You couldn't think, mind swimming—the press of his body, the rough timber of his voice, the weight of his hands as his fingers teased, climbing higher, brushing closer to the ache between your thighs. You sucked in a breath, trying to recall what he'd asked, trying to focus anything but the fire he was lighting in you—
But then, his fingers slipped further, closer, just barely brushing your slit, and your hips jerked involuntarily, chasing that touch.
"No—I don’t—“ the shame in the answer barely mattered. His fingers were so close, so close. "Gods—I just know I want you—"
"That's all you think about, isn't it?" He smirked, lips falling to your neck, tongue tracing the places he knew would wreck you, each soft, wet press making you whimper despite yourself. "You don't care about anything else..." his fingers slipped lower, dipping between your folds—and you cried out, shameless, the sensation unlike any other you'd ever felt. "…not the consequences, not the risk...you just want me…”
Your nails dug into his back and he sucked in a breath through his teeth, wetting his fingers in your arousal before gliding back up to your clit and tracing over it.
"Oh—Gods—" you whinged, moaning into his shoulder.
Mattheo’s hands were experienced—that much was certain. Those fingers knew exactly how to move, precisely how to trace light, delicate circles over your clit that made you twitch, squirm— nerves stripped as you took in the new sensation. It wracked every inch of you, and you could feel him savouring your helplessness, drawing out every ounce of tension that had been building between you for months.
“You’re soaked.” You could hear the disbelief in his voice. “...filthy little thing for me, aren't you?"
"Gods, Mattheo, yes—" your eyes rolled, thighs twitching against his hand. "I am—ohh—"
"Yeah?" His tongue traced a slow, wet path up the side of your neck, teeth dragging over your pulse. "You like this?"
His words were enough to make you want to scream, but no sound formed—just a low, broken moan that spilled from your throat, raw and shameless.
"Answer me," he murmured. "You ever orgasm from this before? Hm?"
"No—" your voice choked, trembling as you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to look at him, something like shame pooling in your stomach. "Oh, fuck—"
"No, what?" His fingers pressed harder, circles growing faster, more insistent, and his voice—Christ, his voice— "I asked you two questions, little slut. Keep up. You wanted this."
"Yes—mmf—I like it—" you whined, the words a desperate spill from your lips, too flustered to form anything coherent. "And no—Gods—you're the first to...to touch me like this..."
He figured as much but the admission tore through him nonetheless, his teeth sinking into your shoulder with a groan—not enough to hurt, but enough to leave a mark, a bruise, a reminder. His hand dipped lower, a finger pushing inside you without warning, pressing deep into your slick heat, and you cried out, your body tightening, pulsing around him, vision swimming.
"And this?" His voice was a smirk against your skin. "You let anyone else inside you like this?"
You knew he already knew the answer. You both did. He was reveling in it—the way he had you, trembling, helpless. You'd never heard him like this, never heard him so crass, so unfiltered, and the way he spoke made your whole body flush with heat.
"No." The word was a strangled moan, barely a breath. "Gods—Mattheo—you already knew that—"
He crooked his finger inside you, and your back arched, the stretch unfamiliar yet mindnumbing, his thumb working your clit. You felt teeth nipping at your earlobe, a hum into your eardrum—his body thrumming with the satisfaction of finally, finally letting himself have you where he wanted.
"Perhaps I did." He added another finger, curling them inside you, his teeth scraping along your neck in a smile. The groan that slipped from your lips was desperate, pained in its pleasure, your body reacting to every new inch of him. "Fucking hell—you can barely take two..."
Your head shook, words failing you. "Gods—Mattheo—I...fuck..."
A low grunt rumbled from his chest, his fingers moving quicker, slick with the evidence of your desire. "Feels good?"
"Yes—" you moaned, breath hitching, vision blurring as he pumped his fingers in and out, building something inside you that you couldn't name, something new, something overwhelming. "I feel—oh, gods—something...happening—"
"You feel something?" His voice was mocking, drenched in that innocent, teasing tone that had you falling apart. "Yeah? What's happening, princess?"
You couldn't find breath, couldn't form the words to answer him. The pressure inside you was mounting, intensity unbearable, your body tense and straining toward an edge. You clung to him, breathless, desperate for more, desperate for something, anything—
"I don't—" your voice broke as his fingers curled deeper, wetness flooding between your thighs, his thumb relentless. "Pressure—fuck—so much—"
He nodded. "Yeah? Pressure in that pretty stomach? Feels fucking good, doesn't it?"
"Fuck—yes, yes," your lids fluttered. "S’good—"
"You're so close." He watched you, drunk on your downfall, and smirked as you neared the edge. "You're going to cum for me."
Sanity shattered in your throat—words trapped, swallowed by the tension, leaving only the soft, unbridled whimpers you once might've once found embarrassing. But there was no shame now, not when you were this close, the pressure coiling tighter in your core, ready to burst.
"Ohh—" you managed, lungs sputtering, head tipping back. The sound of your voice, the way you moaned, was foreign, unfamiliar to your own ears. "Gods—oh fuck-"
"I know," he cooed, sweet like sugar. "I know."
You were a mess. Too close, too overwhelmed—everything was him. His scent, the heat of his skin, the feel of his fingers working that magic that had your body convulsing before you could even cry out, before you could process the way your vision blurred with the force of it. The climax hit like a wave crashing over you, and your moans were swallowed by his kiss, his lips on yours the second your body tightened, shaking against his hand.
He was relentless, rough and insistent, kissing you like he wanted to devour you whole—drowning out the world as your body pulsed around his fingers. You’d never felt such an intense sensation, lava coursing, replacing the blood in your veins. His breath stuttered against your mouth, a low groan vibrating through him, the sound making your spine tingle.
"F-fuck," he muttered, pulling his fingers from you, glistening and wet. "Messy little thing."
The words sent a shiver through you, not just from their meaning but from the way he said them, like something perverse, intimate. Your chest tightened with the warmth of them.
"You—" you panted, trying to find your voice. Blinking through the haze of lingering bliss. "You can't say things like that."
"Why not?" He chuckled your name against your neck, lips brushing a path to your ear. "Because you might fall in love with me?" His teeth grazed the sensitive spot under your lobe, along your jawline. "Oh wait...you already have."
"Shut up," you whispered, stomach flipping at the way he said your name, the way it dripped from his mouth like honey. "Have not."
"I've known for a while, you know," he mused, his voice so low, so quiet. "Don't think I haven't seen it—the way you look at me." He kissed your skin again, working his way up, each press of his lips something sacred, moving closer to your mouth. "The way you can't get enough of me."
You could kill him for it, for the way his words sunk into your bones, making all the feelings you've buried rise to the surface, pulling you under. He just had to go there—had to milk every inch of your composure out of you, because it's not enough for him to have you disarmed physically—sexually—he needed to have you disarmed emotionally, too.
Perhaps the worst part of it all is how right he was. Arrogant bastard.
"Stop talking," your hand drifted down, grazing the bulge in his pants, your fingers slipping under the waistband, rubbing him through the thin fabric of his boxers. It was reckless. You've never done this before, but God, you wanted to. "Stop talking and teach me."
The room tilted—the world off its axis. His breath caught, choked in his lungs as he grabbed your face and pulled your lips to his—his kiss wild, his tongue insistent, running along your gums and wrestling with yours for control.
"Fuck," he groaned into your mouth as you tugged his boxers down, freeing him, your hand wrapping around him. Hot. Hard. "Wrap your fingers around it, princess. Gentle strokes. Just like that."
Your heart stumbled at the sound of his voice, thick, raw and open. You tightened your grip, stroking him slowly, experimentally, and he hissed through his teeth, a groan vibrating through his chest.
"You're so big," you murmured, forehead against his, the words spilling out without thought. "So thick..."
"Fucking minx," he moaned. "Stroking me and telling me how big I am—fuck—you're not as innocent as everyone thinks."
"Only you know this," you whispered, your hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes, pulse soaring as he groaned. "Does it feel good, Matty?"
"Fuck—Christ—" his breath was jagged, words ripped from his throat like they barely wanted to come out, hips jerking mindlessly. "Tighter, mm—little tighter—"
Your cunt throbbed—each whispered invocation of a god not his own, of something he didn't believe in, forced a shudder through you. That's how you knew. Knew how lost he was. He’d no mind left at all if he was muttering muggle gods.
"Like that?" Your fingers squeezed around him, your gaze burning into his as you looked up through fluttering lashes.
His face was a storm—flushed, eyes half-shut—but at your voice they opened and flicked down to yours, and for once, there was no arrogance, no mockery in that stare. Just raw, primal need, burning so fiercely it made you ache. His hips rocked, desperate for more. Painfully. A hole in his chest torn wide open for you to see, and he didn't care. Couldn't care.
"Yeah—shit—just like that," he gritted out, grip on your hips bruising, but you welcomed it. Needed it. "Fast learner, aren't you?"
"You're a good teacher," you whimpered, a sound that was barely yours as his fingers slipped between your thighs, finding your slit, teasing you open again. "Oh—"
"You've always been a little teacher's pet," he groaned, thrusting into your hand as he slipped a finger inside you. The stretch made you wince, pleasure and pain blurring into something that sent sparks behind your eyes. He watched you, gaze molten. "Fuck—it’s gonna hurt, you know that, right?"
The ache spread through you, but you didn't flinch. "I know," you whispered as his thumb found your clit, making you gasp. "I trust you."
"I know you do." His voice dropped, eyes dark and soft at once as he pushed another finger inside. "You know you’ve always had me wrapped around your fucking finger. You know I care about you—“
His words were too much, pressing on something fragile inside you, and you pulled him into a kiss to shut him up—deep, desperate, drowning. Your hand tightened on his length, the heat between you flaring, and you moaned against his mouth, shaking with the need for more.
"I want you," you breathed, each syllable shivering on your lips as you clenched around his fingers. "I've wanted you for months—"
Months? No, it had been years. Years of wanting, needing, watching from afar, heart in your throat. Years of avoiding anyone else because no one was him. You knew he’d felt the same and it killed him. It wasn't logical, wasn't supposed to be like this—not with you, not now, not his best friend's little sister, not him whispering sweet, dangerous things while knuckle-deep inside your virgin cunt.
It was as if you both shook those thoughts from your minds at once. You’ll think about the implications later.
"You've got me," he rasped, hips grinding involuntarily against your hand. "Just—fuck—don't hate me after this."
Hate him? The very idea was laughable, absurd. You could never hate him. Not even in those moments you tried, not even when he deserved it.
"I could never hate you," you murmured, drawing him closer, lips trembling against his. "Just—please—"
Something shifted in his eyes, and he knew. Knew what you needed. What you both needed. You were vulnerable, trembling, but you trusted him—completely. You’d been in his life for so long. You knew he’d never hurt you. He could see it your eyes, the trust, the in the way your body bent to his touch.
"Alright," he said softly, a hand running up your body to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheek. "Alright."
His fingers slid out of you, leaving you bare and breathless, and you swallowed. This was really about to happen.
"Lay back," his voice cut through your haze. "Legs to your chest."
The command wrapped around you like a vice, tightening the anticipation, and you fell back on your elbows, staring up at him as you raised your legs. Vulnerability crept in, making your thighs tense, but Mattheo was there, spreading you open with firm hands, pressing himself against your slick. His eyes were locked onto yours, all that self-assurance gone, melted into something more human—something raw, unguarded.
You could feel it; the vulnerability of this moment stretched between you both—the distance you'd maintained for so long, the careful walls you'd built, were nothing now. He was in too deep, and so were you.
"Stop me at any time," he whispered, his voice a raw rasp, eyes meeting yours. "Just breathe.”
He leaned down until his lips ghosted over yours, and you kissed him like the world might collapse if you didn't. He guided himself against you, the press of him at your entrance an unbearable ache. He was hot, hard, huge—and despite the wetness slicking down your thighs, your body resisted, too tight, too unsure of this.
You whimpered, instinctively trying to pull away, but he stayed, pressing kisses to your hair, your temple, whispering something that sounded like comfort but burned like fire. It hurt more than you expected, more than any of the fantasies you had dared to entertain.
Doubt curled through your chest, what if you couldn't take him? What if—
"M-Mattheo..." his name broke in your throat as you clutched his arm, nails digging into his skin. He tried to push in again, but your body resisted. "It—you—you can't fit..."
"Shh," his lips ghosted over yours, his hand slipping through your hair, trying again, moving slow, controlled. "You're just—so goddamn tight—"
The way he said it sent a spark through your veins. It was filthy, shameless, and it lit you up from the inside, despite the pain. No one had ever spoken to you like this. You swallowed the lump in your throat, tears pricking as he tried to work you open.
And then—he was in.
"I-it hurts," you hissed—pain lighting up your spine as he worked his cockhead inside you, pushing against the resistance of your walls. His breath came in sharp, ragged bursts, each inch a battle. The pressure was unbearable, the sting so sharp it was paralyzing. "Oh, fuck, Mattheo—"
He groaned, a sound from deep within his chest, his head bowing, sweat creeping over his brow.
"Shhh, I know—I know..." he murmured through shredded cords, fighting to maintain control as his hips paused, barely halfway in, just enough to make you feel like you might break. "S'okay...you're doing so good..."
It was overwhelming—the fullness, the ache that felt like it might split you in two. And yet, beneath the pain, something else stirred. His words, soft and rough all at once, made the sensation bearable, turned the hurt into something else. You focused on his voice, on the way he stroked your hair, the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.
"Why—mmff—gods..." you could barely speak, the words tangled in your throat. "Why do you have to be so big—"
A strangled laugh escaped him, though his eyes stayed shut tight, his jaw clenched—cock twitching inside you.
"I don't—fuck—know." His fingers brushed your lips, covering your mouth gently. "Don't go talking like that—not right now—"
You might have laughed, too, if your body wasn't so taut, strung tight with tension and pain and something far more profound. He was barely inside you, his words making your insides clench, drawing another groan from his lips at the squeeze.
His hand held your jaw, palm pressing lightly over your mouth, enough to breathe, to speak—
"Why—" you knew what he meant, knew the warning in his eyes, but you couldn't stop yourself. "—not?"
His breath hitched. "Because—" he swallowed hard, words coming through gritted teeth, his fingers tightening around your jaw, a warning in his grip. "Because—fuck—your mouth will get you in trouble."
Oh. That was what he meant.
"But—oh fuck—you're so...big..." the words slipped out before you could catch them, a disgruntled moan falling from your lips as he sank all the way in, filling you so completely it was dizzying. The pressure, the heat, the sensation of being pried open—it was all too much, and you cried out, unable to stop the sound from spilling out. "Ohhh—so big—"
"I said, fuck," he cursed, hand clamping firm over your mouth now as his body shuddered, as he ground his hips gently into yours. "—don't say that."
It was too late. You didn't need to say anything further. He could feel it—he could feel everything in the way you clenched around him, barely letting him move—so goddamn tight it was almost painful—he could feel it in the look in your eyes, in the trembling of your body beneath his.
"I can feel you thinking it," he grunted as you squirmed beneath him, every movement making him twitch inside you, drawing another choked groan from his throat. "Merlin sakes—"
You knew he wasn't used to this. To slowing down, to drawing out the tension like this, to the maddening slowness of every motion. He wanted to lose himself, to break you open hard and fast, to take and give and take again until both of you shattered into something unrecognizable. But he couldn't—not with the way your eyes glistened, not with the way you gasped and whimpered as he filled you.
"No talking," he sucked in a breath against your neck, his hips rolling into yours in slow, unbearable waves. "Only if you need me to stop."
He was breaking. So were you. Every thrust was an exquisite kind of torture—an ache that twisted and stretched, dulled only by the flick of his fingers against your clit. His lips pressed along your neck, kissed along the line of your jaw, groaning with each deep, patient push, carving his way into you as you clung to him, your mind floating through the fog of pain into something different—something overwhelming.
Your head fell back. “Oh—Oh gods—“
Each gasp felt like it might be your last as that something built deep inside you, tight and unfamiliar, an ache that didn't hurt but begged to be released. And he felt it too—Mattheo felt it, the way your body pulsed beneath his, the way you tightened around him like you couldn't bear to let him go.
"Bloody fuck—are you—are you going to—" his words were ragged, broken. He couldn't finish the thought, couldn't hold himself together. "Are you—"
“Mattheo—” your voice trembled, a breathless moan as your back arched, pressing into him, your body seeking more. The pain was null now, replaced by an overwhelming pressure, something tight and aching and good—you felt every inch of him inside you, every pulse of his cock as he moved, slow but relentless. “Mattheo—oh gods—”
"Fuck—" he bit down, teeth sinking into your neck as his fingers swirled your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. "You're gonna make me—"
You choked because there was no space for words, no breath for anything but the raw sound of your bodies—moans, gasps, ragged inhales tangled together as you both hurtled towards something inevitable. The light of the moon radiated the man above you and that was all you could register other than the rising crescendo of your climax—something so intense it scared you, almost broke you apart—your body seizing, trembling, as his fingers pressed harder against your clit, as he thrust deeper.
And then, there was only one more blink until you shattered beneath him, the orgasm tearing through you in oceanic motion, muscles clenching around him so tightly he could barely move—and then he was there, too, his body jerking as he groaned into your skin, his release ripped from him in jagged gasps as you milked him without mercy. He slumped on top of you, fingers digging into your skin, the two of you pulsing together in the aftermath, the room spinning, your bodies still trembling from the force of it.
The world was slow to return, the roar of sensations fading into something quieter, softer. The weight of him on top of you was grounding—his forehead pressed against the crook of your neck, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Neither of you moved for a long while, just basked in the silence, kind that settled in after something irrevocable had passed between two people.
And then, Mattheo pushed up, enough to meet your eyes. Your chest ached at the softness inside his own.
“Are you—” he swallowed as he drank you in, the sheen of sweat on your skin, the flushed cheeks. His words hung in the air as if he didn’t know how to finish the question.
“I’m okay,” you nodded, voice hoarse. “I’m good.”
Mattheo nodded too but didn’t move, still buried inside you, just taking you in. Then, gently, he shifted, pulling back with a slow, careful movement that made you wince slightly. The second he’d pulled out, you felt different—more aware of the vulnerability you’d just laid bare, more aware of the line you two had just obliterated into absolute shambles.
“You sure?” he asked, a flicker of something deeper in his gaze—
You nodded again, the smallest smile pulling at your lips, though your heart was still racing, the enormity of it all sinking in.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m sure.”
His jaw tightened, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek.
“This changes everything, doesn’t it?” His voice was barely audible, like he didn’t want to admit it out loud.
Of course he was thinking it too—how could he not? This was no longer something you could pretend didn’t exist, no longer something you could hide behind banter and stolen glances and secret kisses.
“Yeah,” you breathed, fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the tension there, the heat still radiating from his skin. “It does.”
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