#like i was in the middle of reading my spread

[iwannaleavemymind]

Gamer!Choso continuation that’s been so highly anticipated and begged for…

As always, minors DNI you will be blocked

Thank you for all the love and support and getting me to 300 followers in just two weeks I love you guys so so much!!❤️❤️❤️

(Incorporating a little bit of my beloved sadism into this fic too🙏)

Let’s make I mean watch a movie!!

Gamer!Choso getting annoyed when you ignore him because your carried away in your own little game; prettily sat down at your own gaming set up with monitors and pcs with cameras set up for your live stream.

Gamer!Choso showing up on the stream with a loose black shirt and a silver cross necklace on- no doubt getting a little bit of thirsty comments about him in the chat.

“Babe take a break your streams been long enough dont cha’ think hmm?”

“Cho’ I can’t I have two hours left for the live stream. Sorry baby.”

Gamer!Choso bides his time bit by bit reading by the chat comments about their relationship, little jabs at your shared patreon together asking when the next movie will come out, whispering dirty little nothings into your ear.

Gamer!Choso slowly leads his hands down to your thighs, gently tugging the sides of them up up and up closer to your soaking wet cunt. Earning a little slap on his hand for distracting you from a match.

“Cho! I’m live and I almost lost.” You say to him, quiet enough so the mic doesn’t pick up what you say to him.

Gamer!Choso laughs at your attitude and pretends to walk off camera- only to slip under your desk and yank down your loose shorts to toy with your clothes clit, your arousal soaked through the thin fabric of your panties.

Gamer!Choso degrading and toying with your clit, desperately trying to keep your composure while you’re on the live stream, little huffs and pants coming from your lips- blaming it on how hard the match is going.

“Shh baby we don’t want them to hear that slutty lil mouth of your hmm?”

Gamer!Choso whispering to you with his head between your legs, spreading your thighs apart and yanking your panties down your bare thighs, discarding them to the side exposing your soaked and needy pussy to him.

“Princess? You like this don’t you?”

Gamer!Choso flicking his tongue along your clit, eating you out like a starved man in the middle of the dessert. And you were soaked enough to sustain that thirst for him-

Gamer!Choso nibbling lightly on your clit, his tongue slipping into your dripping cunt and swirling his tongue along your soaking wet folds, sliding a finger into your core and resuming his relentless assault on your throbbing clit with his oh so mean tongue.

Gamer!Choso makes your composure so hard to keep- making up an excuse to leave the stream for a ‘bathroom break’ only to turn off the camera- but your sloppy cunt makes it so hard to think straight; drunk on his tongue sliding up and down and circling your clit- his fingers stimulating your g spot over and over making your legs tremble- your fingers fumble with the keys turning the camera off- but not the audio!?

“Oh you poor thing- having to stop your stream just f’me baby? Don’t worry it’ll be worth your time~” he whispers against your sensitive core- his words echoing in the dumbed out walls of your mind, hands tangling in his hair and eyes shut in pleasure.

Gamer!Choso increases the pace of his fingers, flicking his tongue across your clit faster and sloppier until you come all over his tongue, your juices soaking his lips and dribbling down his chin.

“She fuckin loves me hm? Better give ‘er what she wants uh huh?”

Gamer!Choso overstimulating your poor pussy with his tongue, sloppily eating you out and simultaneously slipping his fingers in and out of your core at a hungry crazed pace, loud hazed moans slipping past your lips your pupils blown wide and legs shaking with overstimulation, your thighs neatly squishing his face in your favorite place between your thighs.

“So sweet- so sloppy n’ needy baby.”

Gamer!Choso slapping your pussy in retaliation, he’s so mean teasing your oncoming orgasm, ceasing all movement between his tongue and his fingers.

“Beg for it slut.”

Gamer!Choso loooves making you work for it, making sweet little please and whimpers flow from your lips and thighs shaking around his head, biting into the sensitive flesh leaving a hickey as his reward.

“Fuck- that’s what I wanna hear baby.”

Gamer!Choso fucking you with his tongue sloppier than before, the noise of your slick and drenched pussy reverberating throughout the room, his thick fingers fucking your g-spot juuust right.

Gamer!Choso isn’t done with your until you squirt all over his face- your release coating his lips in a clear sheen and your cum slipping down his neck right into his loose black shirt, no doubt satisfied with his job well done.

Gamer!Choso’s eyes widening when he sees your fucked out expression- and the chat blowing up with comments about your sweet little moans!?

“Oh fuck baby we might need to give ‘em another movie huh?”

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ daddy playlist (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : f1 gird x leclerc! reader ( platonic )

summary: the leclerc sister causing havoc in the f1 driver’s life

tw : fluff; chaos, VERY SUGGESTIVE

fc : emma chamberlain

a/n : this was requested anonymously by an anon! I hope you like it and thank you so much for supporting me ! lysm 🫶🏻 the reader is gay, so don’t like it, don’t read it 🫶🏻 also, there are a lot of suggestive jokes, so please don’t read if you are uncomfortable

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by norriz, albono, georgey and 78 others

babyn daddy's home chauffeuring these Lil girls

view comments

lordperceval wtf are you driving a Mercedes !?

lordperceval haven't I bought like 10 ferrari's for you ?

lordperceval even Lewis is leaving Mercedes

babyn calm down, brother dearest, it's georgey's

georgey shame on all of you for catfishing in my car

albono I AS WELL also own a Mercedes 🙏

albono norris, you better be careful in track, the fuck are you sending my ugliest pictures on the net

norizz oh come on, if you are ugly, you are going to be ugly

max1 and not like you don't crash every now and then

colawithice it's the Williams' fault

chillijr that's why I am replacing you

colawithice and that's why I am replacing checko ✅

babyn YOU ARE GOING TO REDBULL!?

babyn OH MY GOD

babyn REDBULL WILL HAVE MILFS

babyn BOTH OF THE DRIVERS ARE DATING MILFS

norizz or they just have mummy issues

max1 and you have height issues

colawithice height does not matter, it's the girth

hamsandwich it's the looks 💪🏻

georgey why do you follow yn?

babyn WHY WONT HE!?

kikagnome the whole grid follows her

babyn except the drivers without talent and daddy issues

peirreneedsgas then why is Lando following you ?

norriz mate, last time I checked, I WAS THE ONE COMPETING FOR THE CHAMPIONSHIP

babyn and it was all too much for little Lando Norris

pastry we still are winning then constructors💪🏻

chillijr Ferrari will cover up

babyn only if they pass the radio in spanish from now on

georgey 😶

albono 😶

pastry 😶

lilyhye 😶

babyn LILY WHY WERE YOU OFFLINE

carmenvroom 😶

liked by lilyhye, kikagnome, alexmieux and 104 others

babyn the only man I would ever spread my legs for -

view comments

lordperceval you are not getting out of my sight anymore

lordperceval dare you leave the Ferrari garage

babyn I will go the McLaren garage

pastry oh fuck no, BIANCA IS NOT THERE FOR EVERY RACE

babyn 😔

max1 I will join you

babyn turning people gay since 01 💪🏻

babyn but before, give me Kelly

max1 you can very much take toto, thank you

kikagnome yn, babe stick to one person yeah ?

babyn stop flaunting your relationship with pierre

pierreneedsgas SHE DIDNT EVEN SAY ANYTHING !

babyn your existence is enough

kikagnome why do I have you as my best friend again ?

babyn idk, sounds like a you problem

liked by norizz, kikagnome and 84 others

babyn SHE FUCKING LOOKED AT ME !?

view comments

norizz was it necessary to use me ?

babyn well yes, you are confused everytime

max1 thank God you will stay off Kelly now

babyn NEVER FROM MY FAV MILF

ollibear Bianca gave me her number

babyn TO YOU !?

olliebear what's so surprising ?

babyn YOU ARE WHITE AND YOUNG AND WELL A KID

olliebear YOU ARE WHITE TOO !?

babyn I AM MONEGASQUE

kingarthur sorry ollie, she failed her middle school

norizz she just looked

babyn itz the start of our marriage book, I have already made like 10 playlists

colawithice tell me you're gay without telling me you are gay

babyn you are LaTiNa

colawithice I WAS TALKING ABOUT YOU

lordperceval every week, you tell me some other girl is going to my sister in law

babyn I WANT TO BECOME A WAG

kikagnomes ITS FRIENDSHIP GOALS CHARLES

pierreneedsgas wait what

babyn calm down french fry, you both only met because of me

hamsandwich please don't, we don't need another person on the grid with an age gap

chillijr I think being in the f1 world has a mandatory check of having an age gap relationship

albono ME AND LILY are very happy 😊

georgey so are we Carlos

rebecamour Carlos, I AM ONLY ELDER TO YOU BY ONE YEAR

chillijr I didn't mean it about us !!

rebecamour Aren't you an f1 driver !?

babyn he is not, he is unemployed

chillijr I am!! But we love each other and Y/N, STOP

babyn no one tells me to stop, I LOVE BEING IN COMMAND

chillijr Charles, control your sister

lordperceval Arthur, please do

kingarthur only maman can

hamsandwich well you could show this account to her ?

babyn ALL GOOD

babyn NO NEED

babyn I AM GAY AND HAPPY

babyn NOT SHARING ANYMORE

lordperceval I love maman

kingarthur so do I 😊

liked by pierreneedgas, kikagnome and 92 others

babyn Kika, the first girl who I fell in love with, the girl who taught me how to wear heels, the girl who taught me how to make my boobs look big ( you kind of catfished pierre..?) and girl who has been with me since we were thirteen. happy 21 my love 😗😗

view comments

kikagnomes finally I get some appreciation 🫶🏻😊

pierreneedsgas the only post I ever liked on this account

babyn says the man who got catfished

kikagnomes I AM NOT THAT FLAT

babyn OH PLEASE

kikagnomes WELL I HAVE A BOYFRIEND

babyn who will gladly lick the plate

kikagnomes PLATE !?

norizz this is the first time I have seen boobs being compared to plates

pierreneedsgas shut up norris

kikagnomes shut up lando !!

babyn love let's just continue on the gc ?

kikagnomes yes, I need to debrief as well !

pierreneedsgas debrief what ?

babyn how you only last like 3 rounds !?

pierreneedsgas HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW !? FRANSISCA !?

lordperceval 3 rounds is impressive !!

babyn not for an athlete

kingarthur sister, what more do you expect from a human ?

babyn like minimum 5 rounds ?

max1 Y/N, this is not a formula 1 race where you go for rounds with pitstops

babyn y'all are just old

hamsandwich it's not about being old !!!

babyn forgot there were 40 year olds who can't even do one round

colawithice you women don't know how hard is it to keep the hip movements going

georgey EXACLTY, WE HAVE MORE FLEXIBLE HIPS THAN SHAKIRA

carmenvroom ....

lordoerceval the silence says a lot more my mate

babyn Colapinto beans, I am more dominant in bed than you are begging to be rode

lordperceval EVERYONE TAKE THIS ON YOUR CHATS, Y/N, SISTER I HAVE NO INTEREST IN YOUR SEX LIFE

babyn also Charles, work on your stamina mate, can't even go 2 rounds without panting

lordoerceval !? ALEXANDRA !?

alexmieux ... yn, love meet me NOW

liked by kikagnome, norriz, colawithice and 134 others

babyn when mom asks what me and that girl are going to do on a sleepover

view comments

norriz at this point, you should sign up this account for onlyfans

lordperceval Lando, stop giving my BABY SISTER such ideas

babyn what makes you think I am not already there

kingarthur excuse me !?

babyn don't worry, I just sell your feet pics 😺😊

lordperceval the best investment from my money would be getting you a psychiatrist

colawithice give me some tongue tips

babyn milf not getting satisfied ?

colawithice you wish

chillijr telling your mom for future sleepovers

babyn telling reb about your Italy escapade

rebecamour Italy what !?

babyn nothing 🤭

rebecamour Carlos !?!?

chillijr nothing my love, she is just joking

chilijr STOP TRYING TO MAKE ME FIGHT WITH HER !

babyn sorry, I just thought you liked mariella

rebecamour MARIELLA !?

norizz just informing that Carlos won't be online for some time because I saw him run after her in the paddock

pastry why are you so mean yn ?

lilyhye Mena in What?

lilyhye exposing an affair !?

alexmieux as she should !?

babyn loves, there was no affair

kikagnomes you nasty -

lilyhye those are some damn long fingers ...

babyn someone just expressed their desire @ albono

albono thank you very much and I can work on it without your interference

lordperceval why in the world have you put me there !?

babyn Alex is lucky you know ?

lordperceval what did mom even eat before giving birth to you !?

babyn dad

kingarthur Y/N !!!

[abbyclypsie]

VOULEZ-VOUS! - 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐇 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍

WARNINGS: reader singer, a silly little thing made with love, english is not my first language!

It was a sunny morning in London, and Y/n and Leah Williamson's home was filled with an energy only a passionate singer could bring. Y/n, dressed in a sparkling outfit reminiscent of ABBA's iconic style, was bouncing around the room with a microphone in hand, belting out every note of "Voulez-Vous" with a passion that could ignite any stage.

"People everywhere, a sense of expectation hanging in the air!" Y/n sang, spinning in the middle of the room and dramatically pointing at Leah, who was sitting on the couch with her legs crossed, trying to read a book.

Leah, in her typical calm demeanor, sighed deeply and slowly closed her book. It was obvious her patience was wearing thin. She loved Y/n, but her love for ABBA was reaching its limit.

"Y/n..." Leah began in a calm but firm tone. "Yes, my love?" Y/n replied, still dancing as if she were at a live show. "Don't you think you've sung that song enough for today?"

Y/n stopped in the middle of a dramatic step, looking at Leah with eyes that sparkled with pure disbelief.

"Enough? Leah, it's Voulez-Vous! How can I stop when the spirit of the music lives within me?"

Leah rubbed her temples, trying to find the right words.

"Y/n, I love you and I support everything you do, but you've sung that song... like, ten times. Just today. I'm starting to dream about it." "That's great! It means you're feeling the magic of ABBA!"

Leah laughed humorlessly, throwing the book aside.

"No, it means I can't stand to hear 'Voulez-Vous' one more time. I was starting to like ABBA because of you, but now..."

Y/n put her hand on her heart, as if Leah had just stabbed a knife there.

"Are you saying I'm ruining ABBA for you? How is that possible? They're pure perfection, and I'm just spreading that perfection around the world!"

Leah stood up, walking over to Y/n, who was still holding the microphone like a weapon of defense.

"I don't want to ruin your passion, really. But... maybe you could sing something else? Anything else. Please."

Y/n narrowed her eyes, tilting her head dramatically.

"Are you suggesting I betray ABBA?" "No, I'm suggesting you give me a break. Just a break, Y/n. I need peace. I beg you."

Silence hung between the two for a moment, as S/n pondered. Finally, she lowered the microphone and sighed deeply.

"Alright, Leah. I won't sing ABBA... for now. But only because I love you."

Leah smiled, pulling Y/n into a tight hug.

"Thank you. And I love you too. Even when you're driving me crazy with Voulez-Vous."

Y/n laughed against Leah's shoulder but soon pulled away, raising an eyebrow with a mischievous smile.

"What if I sing Dancing Queen? It's softer." "Y/n!"

The two burst into laughter, with Leah shaking her head as Y/n took an exaggerated bow in the middle of the room. Despite their differences, that chaos was part of what made their relationship so unique. And Leah knew, deep down, that no matter how many times she heard ABBA, she could never stop loving Y/n... even if it was with earplugs.

[onesecretperson]

I've just realized I could've probably found out if there were any Adult appropriate Halloween events or parties in my area if I bit my pride and used Facebook a bit.

I hate that all community and local business events are announced and updated only on that website.

[chai-and-cherries]

.

[styrofauxm]

#Happy now?

to your tag - of course I'm not happy. That is obviously a very shitty thing to say, much less make it through a bunch of reviews and get published. That's why it set off my "potential BS" alarm.

It is nice to see that it's not completely made up that reputable news organizations (I checked Christian Science Monitor and it IS reputable). But OP's claim that there's lots of news organizations celebrating this and calling it impressive is still unsubstantiated.

I checked about 10 different sources, and this is the first that actually states that. And, let's be honest, the average person is not tuning to the Christian Science Monitor for their news. If I've heard of it before today, I didn't remember it. Beyond that, 1 article does not prove an overall trend like OP is implying.

None of that excuses the way the other sources discussed this (especially CNN. It was worse than the Wall Street Journal AND Fox News. Combined (imo)).

But it's important to me that the information I share is accurate. And, based on the information people have given me, and my own research, the claim that "ALL these news stories call the pager explosions 'impressive'" is not accurate, nor is the claim that "arab deaths are being celebrated on an international scale."

It's really just not fair how obviously the world devalues arab lives. All these news stories call the pager explosions as "impressive"... it's just not fair. I don't know how else to say it. It's not fair that arab deaths are celebrated on an international scale.

[bi-writes]

idk just thinking about seeing your lieutenant for the first time, this big giant dog of a man, and thinking to yourself, "hmmm yeah, i'm gonna make that thing mine." (18+)

like. i'm thinking about seeing him walk into the room for the first time. fresh off an op, still in all his gear. he's angry cause he's been awake off and on for 40 hours at this point, and he sinks down into a chair in the mess hall, and your eyes bug cause the chair fucking bends with his weight.

and you're just like "omg omg omg holy shit" cause this fucking brute is just huge and beefy, and you had no idea this was your type until you watched his hand curl around a cup and make it look miniature. and you're wondering like "fuck i bet those holsters are custom made" cause you don't think you've ever seen them stretch that far around someone's thigh.

ughghghghgh, and he's dumb as shit, too, or maybe he's just fucking blind. you give him every hint in the book, every indication of how you feel other than pasting a giant neon sign on your forehead that says "fuck me."

you wear the tightest cargo pants you can get. you let the buttons on your shirts go low whenever he's near. you make excuses to see him late, delivering him paperwork in the middle of the night, meeting him out for a smoke (and he's never seen you smoke anything), shuffling your way in front of him in line so you can bump into him and graze your ass against his front. he even catches you this way--even curls his hand around your waist and steadies you before letting you go impatiently.

fuck, bending over in front of him, the obnoxious giggling, the excuses to dangle your tits in his face. you want this man underneath you, on top of you, tangled around you and suffocating you with those enormous arms, and he barely side-glances at you whenever you're in his vicinity, and it's infuriating.

what do you have to do to reel this thing in? how many bones do you have to give him?

how many times do i have to flash my bra at you for you to fuck me over your desk?!

you can't eat another cherry in front of him. you can't drop more sauce onto your cleavage. you cannot come out of the showers in just a towel in front of him anymore because you're going to lose your fucking mind--

you even made out with his beloved little sergeant, his favorite little know-it-all that can't stop blowing shit up. that blue-eyed, insufferable, yapper of a scot that kisses all wet, with teeth, who pants like a puppy when he asks if he can 'ave a taste of y'r bonnie cunt, please, please, please--

and you say yes, because maybe he'll finally fucking shut up if you drown him between your thighs and never let him come up for air.

face down, ass up, cargos around your ankles, hips pushing past against that puppy's stubble as he devours you on his knees. his big hands spread your ass for him, and his thumbs flick over your folds as he opens you up, a cackle leaving him before he opens his mouth wide and kisses your pussy all sloppy and uncoordinated.

when the door swings open and hits the wall with a bang, the puppy tries to leave. he tries to move, but you reach back and grip his mohawk, scowling as you shove his face back where it belongs as your lieutenant stands at the door and heaves with anger.

"uh uh," you snap, and your sergeant on his knees whines, his blue eyes a little foggy and wet as he blinks up at you. but he complies, his tongue slurping, and you flutter your lashes at your lieutenant as you keep johnny muzzled in your cunt. "sorry, lieutenant. is this your office? must've read the sign wrong."

you reel from the contact. a big hand grips you by the hair, slamming you down against his desk, and you choke as you try and gasp for air. like a good boy, johnny settles where he is, shoving his tongue down your hole and moaning low when he realizes you're dripping down his chin now that his lieutenant has you.

"y'think this is funny, eh?" ghost mutters in your ear. "y'think i don't know wot y'r doin'? think i 'aven't caught on, think i 'aven't noticed wot a fuckin' insatiable bloody pain in my arse you've been ever since y'got 'ere?!"

you whimper, relaxing against the desk, and ghost tugs at your hair again, shaking his head.

"oi! y'don't get to be stupid just because y'r gettin' y'r cunny played with," ghost snaps. "y'r a right headache."

you laugh, getting up to your elbows, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as ghost scruffs johnny by the base of his mohawk and cups your pussy with one big hand. you gasp, leaning your head back, because finally, yes, it's all i want, please, please, please--

"'f you wanted to be my pet so bad," ghost murmurs, fitting himself behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he spits into your ear, "all ya had to do was fuckin' ask, swee'eart."

when your eyes open, ghost hums, clicking his tongue under the mask.

"use y'r words," he growls. "be a good girl, and say wot it is y'want."

"want you," you whine, and he sighs deeply, closing his eyes, and you drown out the sounds of johnny sputtering at your feet as ghost bends you at the hip a little more, arching your back.

"mmm...tha'sit. was tha' so hard?"

[plutotheplum]

Keep My Hand in Yours

emperor!zayne x concubine!reader - read part 1!

summary: the emperor is intent on convincing you that you are worthy enough to be his empress.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, fluff, oral sex, vaginal fingering, p in v, praise kink, throne sex, spanking

wc: 6.9k

a/n: part 2 is finally here! thank you for all the sweet comments, i cherish them all!! <3 umm... i do plan on adding some more parts to this series... so yeah, i hope you enjoy! :)

also on ao3!

“She is not with child.”

Zayne’s stern voice cuts through the chatter of his advisors, his fingers tapping against the arm of his throne irritatedly. The drone of voices silences, his advisors lowering their heads in respect.

You stand off to the side, playing with the sleeves of your robes nervously. Perhaps you’d been a little naive to think the advisors would have been accepting of your blossoming relationship with the Emperor. 

Word had spread throughout the palace, and most likely throughout the entire Empire about the new developments that had taken place overnight. The guards had heard you of course, their eyes averted and cheeks flushed pink when Zayne had held your hand and led you out of his chambers.

An unforeseen turn in events, and you had somehow excelled past the advisors’ expectations, garnering the Emperor’s affection for you. Whilst a small number of the Emperor’s advisors were pleased, the majority were not. Standing before them, you can see the disdain on their faces, the hatred that belies their thin smiles. Jealousy is above all however, for their own daughters were once placed forth as noble matches for the Emperor. 

You jolt out of your thoughts when an Imperial guard takes your arm, moving you to stand before the Emperor. Zayne looks down at you, and you can spy the slight softening of his eyes as he watches you bow to him.

“As I have said,” Zayne repeats, “she is not with child.”

“Forgive me, your majesty,” a voice speaks out from behind you, “how can she not be with child? We- we have heard of what occurred.”

Zayne motions for you to spin around, and you do as he wants. You now face his entire court, advisors gathered in hours of the early morning. It was the grand chancellor who spoke, a tall man, his face gaunt. You remember he had served Zayne’s father before he had passed.

“We are both not ready for children,” Zayne explains, “I had the palace physician brew a tea under my command.”

It was true. You had both spoken about the matter, and you simply could not handle carrying a child so soon. Zayne had agreed, snuck you out through the passages in the middle of the night, and had taken you to the palace physician. The brewing of such teas was not unheard of, but certainly not an accepted occurrence, although perhaps more commonly used among the nobility.

“I see…” the grand chancellor says slowly, his gaze fixating on you.

You want to shrink away, somehow hide behind the safety of the Emperor, but you cannot. Instead, you shift on the spot, averting your gaze to the floor as though you were not the very object of interest of this gathering.

“And you intend to continue this foolish endeavor?” 

Your head snaps up at the harsh words, gaze settling on the new voice that had spoken out. A lower ranking official judging by the coloring of his robes, his eyes narrowing as he stares at you.

“It appears you forget yourself,” the Emperor replies coolly. 

“Or perhaps you forget yourself, your majesty,” the official spits, stepping forward, “you would ruin the image of your rule to marry some… some lowly concubine?”

The murmurs of the other members of court are hard to ignore, hushed whispers breaking out at the official’s blatant show of disrespect towards the Emperor.

“And was it not this very court that decided to gather concubines without my knowledge?”

“For child bearing!” the official hisses, pointing his finger towards you accusingly, “not for marriage!”

You swallow harshly at the viciousness of his words, biting back the insults that threaten to spill out. Retaliation in such a meeting would only support the official’s cause. 

“She will be your Empress,” Zayne says calmly, “if you seek to insult my future wife yet again, I will have you removed immediately.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks when he affirms that you’ll be his wife. It may not be the best time, but the light flush covers your cheeks and you try to stop the pull of your lips, a smile threatening to spread across your face.

“If you think I- we will stand for such insolence, you are sorely mistaken, your majesty” the official snarls.

A bitter laugh echoes through the throne room. 

“Be grateful that I am not my father,” Zayne murmurs, “for he would have had your head. Remove your seal.”

The official sputters, looking around at the rest of the court members wildly. Most avoid his eyes, others unconsciously touching their own seals through the fabric of their robes.

You flinch when the official removes his Imperial seal angrily, tossing the little silver square at your feet.

“You have poisoned his mind,” he accuses heatedly, face reddened from his outburst, “and you should do well to remember your station.”

Irritation pricks at your skin, your teeth gritting together. You were well aware of your station, of your status and how you’re perceived. The incessant reminders aren’t doing well to calm your frayed nerves, brows pulling together as you glare at the official. 

“Bow to her.”

The rules of nobility have been set in place for longer than you could possibly know, and yet Zayne seems insistent on breaking them. It’s bold, even for him, to demand such a thing. You turn, shooting him a look, subtly shaking your head. There’s a hint of a smile on the Emperor’s face, as though enjoying this confrontation.

“I- I will do no such thing!” the official protests.

“You have already lost your seal and your position and you still will not do as I say?” Zayne murmurs, leaning forward in his throne.

You watch with wide eyes when the official does bow to you, the upper half of his body lowering. Another round of hushed whispers passes through the room, and you can feel the grand chancellor’s eyes boring into you. His authority was only second to the Emperor, the only man who held a real chance of changing Zayne’s mind.

“Good,” Zayne says, leaning back on his throne, “now leave us.”

The throne room clears out immediately, until you’re the only one remaining. You smile at him, stepping between his legs until you’re standing in front of him.

“I did not take you for a tyrant,” you tease, brushing his hair out of his face.

“And I did not know that protecting my future wife made me a tyrant,” Zayne muses, his arms wrapping around your waist.

He tugs you closer, his head falling forward to rest against your stomach, face burying itself in your robes. A soft sigh leaves you, fingers running through his loose hair, scratching at his scalp lightly.

“Tired?” you ask, arm wrapping around his neck.

The Emperor nods against your stomach, trying to press his face deeper. A laugh escapes you at his needy behavior, your hand managing to cup his jaw to bring him out of his hiding place. 

“The affairs of state have become bothersome,” Zayne says, peering up at you.

“Oh? You did not seem to mind before.”

“Playing coy?” Zayne smiles faintly, tugging you forward until you stumble and land on his lap.

“Hardly,” you whisper, pressing yourself closer as your hands curl into his robes.

The Emperor leans back on his throne, his hands kneading at your hips. You chase after him, eyes fluttering shut as you press your lips against his. Zayne lets out a low noise, drawing you closer, his hand sliding up your back as you kiss. The memory from last night is still fresh, the feeling of his hands on your body ingrained in your mind. 

“I cannot have enough of you,” he whispers, lips brushing over yours.

“You- you ought to rest,” you gasp, tilting your head to let him kiss down the length of your neck.

Zayne kisses your sternum, and back up your neck before he sighs and tucks his face into the crook of your neck. You hold him close, hand smoothing over his hair gently.

“I have made things difficult for you,” you say quietly.

He shakes his head, squeezing your waist reassuringly. 

“I have become complacent,” he murmurs, “simply letting others do as they please.”

You kiss his forehead when he lifts his head, brushing your thumbs over his cheeks. Exhaustion mars the Emperor’s face, his eyes looking sunken and dull. The sudden gathering of his court appears to have drained his energy.

“I shall have to gather them again,” Zayne says, “the trade agreements need attention.”

A smile settles on your face when he kisses your cheeks gently, his hands petting your sides. You move off of his lap, standing up with him reluctantly. Reaching out, you fix his hair and his robes that you had held onto earlier. 

“Finish, then retire to your chambers to rest,” you instruct, patting his chest.

Zayne laughs, his head dipping down to kiss you. You return the kiss eagerly, pulling apart with a few sweet, little pecks to his lips.

“You are already acting like a doting wife,” he whispers.

You flush when he says that, looking away. It’s still hard to get over the fact that Zayne, the Emperor, wants to marry you of all people. The thought of it all makes your palms sweaty, cheeks hot and heart race. There’s a whirlwind upon you, Zayne, tearing apart your preconceived notions of the Empire. 

“I want to dote on you.”

The words tumble from your lips, soft and vulnerable. You’ve never felt this way about a man, never had a man pay attention to you, never been touched by a man before him. It’s as though the Emperor’s expressions are always tender in the way he gazes at you. You’ve never known what it’s like to be in love, but if it’s like this, so startlingly soft and sickeningly sweet, you fear you may be lost in him forever. 

“I- I just meant-” you begin to correct yourself, fidgeting with your robes.

“I know what you meant,” Zayne says softly, his hands finding yours.

Your breath catches in your throat when he lifts your hands to his mouth, his thumbs running over your skin soothingly. Zayne keeps his eyes on you as he kisses across your knuckles, squeezing your hands gently after. 

“I said I take care of what’s mine,” he continues, drawing you close, “and you are mine now.”

You nod jerkily, shoving your face into his chest. The Emperor hums, stroking your hair slowly. Unfortunately, you don’t get to bask in his embrace for any longer, a guard announcing the arrival of a messenger.

“Rest,” you remind him, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

Zayne nods, squeezing your waist before allowing you to draw away. 

-

The other girls crowd around you immediately when you enter your chambers, their expressions sly and knowing as they tug you towards the middle of the room, soft giggles filling the air.

“Well?” one of them asks, eyes wide with curiosity. 

“Well what?” you ask, feigning innocence.

A chorus of complaints breaks out.

“Stop being shy!”

“We tell you our stories!”

“You must tell us!”

One of the girls reaches for you, her arm hooking with yours. She leans down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers conspiratorially.

“Was the Emperor well-endowed?”

“Oh, stop it!”

- 

The grand chancellor has been lurking in the hallways.

You’d noticed the tall man when you had left to make some tea, but after a considerable amount of time, he was still there. The cold breeze outside should’ve been enough to deter him, but you’ve figured he must be intent on speaking to you.

To be frank, you aren’t in the mood for another confrontation just days later from the disastrous court meeting that had occurred. It’s why you hold your breath as you sneak out from your chambers, feet padding against the floor lightly as you try to slip past the grand chancellor’s turned back.

“Will you avoid me for much longer?” he calls out. 

You wince, halting in place. The grand chancellor cannot be avoided forever, you suppose.

“Come along,” he says, his fingers motioning for you to follow him.

You do as he says begrudgingly, following after the grand chancellor. To your surprise, he leads you into the gardens rather than a private room. Snow is yet to fall today, autumn soon drawing to a close in a few weeks. You wipe the fallen leaves that have landed on a nearby bench, sitting down after the grand chancellor does.

It’s suffocatingly awkward, your fingers playing with each other agitatedly as he simply sits next to you, looking out at the plants and trees that make up the gardens. You realize it would be a foolish idea to let your guard down around him. The grand chancellor hadn’t reprimanded Zayne during that meeting and yet you remember the way he had been staring at you. His intentions are hard to discern, his loyalties to the Emperor and the Emperor alone. 

“Much like his father, his majesty is stubborn,” the grand chancellor says, “I have had the pleasure of knowing both men since they were children.”

“I see,” you murmur, peeking a glance at him.

You don’t know why he’s telling you this, half-expecting the man to begin berating you for becoming so close to Zayne. 

“I shall be frank,” he sighs, turning to face you, “I did not expect the Emperor to become so… enamored by you.”

“I did not expect it either,” you grumble defensively.

“His majesty is an intelligent man. He knows of the consequences and yet seems intent on taking you to wed.”

“Consequences?” you echo.

“Political alliances are frail,” he explains, picking up a fallen leaf and examining it, “marriage is the easiest way to prevent a war between regions.”

“We have not been at war for years!” you protest, shaking your head.

“And we will not be for many more,” the grand chancellor assures you, “I am simply warning you of what may come when you are Empress.”

You don’t understand the politics of the Empire, have never been privy to such things. The grand chancellor only adds to the confusion and uncertainty that has been brewing inside your mind. 

“I thought you would dissuade him,” you say quietly.

“The boy deserves happiness,” the grand chancellor murmurs, standing up, “if he wishes to be with you, then I will allow it.” He peers down at you, his lips thinning. “Take caution, child. Envy drives men to madness. The nobility may hide behind their bloodlines, but a cesspool festers within.”

The grand chancellor hands you the withered leaf.

“Loyalties change as the seasons do.”

- 

A week later, the Emperor finds you in the gardens, sitting under a tree.

“You have not come to see me,” Zayne says, sitting down beside you.

“I did not want to trouble you,” you reply.

You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. The Emperor’s fingers are stained with ink, streaks of black covering his pale skin. Zayne’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against his side.

“The grand chancellor is worried.”

“I surmised as much,” the Emperor sighs, his fingers playing with your robes.

You peer up at him, and Zayne leans down, dropping a kiss to your forehead. There’s a part of you that can’t help but feel you’re putting him in a position that he normally wouldn’t be in if he had simply chosen to marry someone of higher status.

“Do you truly wish to marry me?” you ask quietly, averting your gaze.

“Have I told you otherwise?” Zayne asks in return, his fingers gripping your chin to turn your head so that your eyes meet his again.

The tenderness in his eyes is overwhelming. You feel as though you’re drowning, swallowed up by his irises and his honest gaze. Things would’ve been far simpler if he were someone less important, but you can’t imagine Zayne being anything other than the Emperor, for it would be a disservice to the Empire.

You shift, standing up before settling your hands on his broad shoulders, straddling him as you climb up onto his lap. It’s improper to act so brazenly, but you’ve done far more improper things with him, acted far more brazenly in his presence. The Emperor grunts as you settle yourself on his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

“I am not fit to be your Empress,” you whisper.

Zayne doesn’t say anything for a moment, his hand simply rubbing up and down your back soothingly. Your throat is tight and you can feel your lips trembling. You don’t want to cry, but you can’t help it when a sniffle escapes you.

“And you think I am fit to be Emperor?” he whispers, “I am only here because of my father and his father before him and so on.”

“But you are the Emperor,” you insist, voice quavering, “I could not possibly-”

“Forget about nonsensical titles,” Zayne murmurs, his hands cupping your cheeks as his thumbs wipe away the hot tears that have begun to roll down your cheeks, “I meant every word I said that night.”

“B- but-” 

“But nothing,” the Emperor soothes, staring into your eyes intently, “I would sooner have no one than not have you.”

“You are the worst,” you say tearily, pushing at his chest weakly. 

“Ah, I am sure,” he says, a small smile spreading across his face.

The Emperor cradles your head, tilting it to his will as he kisses away the fresh tears that wet your cheeks. He doesn’t stop there, his lips dragging over your skin gently. The Emperor kisses your brows, your closed eyelids, the tip of your nose, every inch of your face that is bared to him.

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

You kiss him gently and Zayne smooths his thumbs over your cheeks, deepening the kiss as he presses his lips against yours firmly. A soft whine leaves you, letting his tongue lick over the seam of your lips before he licks into your mouth, tongue delving deep. The Emperor kisses you as though trying to convince you of his words, as though to make you stay. 

“I want to show you something,” Zayne says, his forehead pressing against yours. You nod, moving to stand up. Zayne doesn’t let you, instead hauling you up into his arms and standing up. A surprised squeak bubbles out of you when you realize the Emperor is carrying you.

“Zayne!” you protest, “Zayne, people will see!”

Zayne only tightens his grip when you begin to squirm, brushing a kiss to your forehead to calm your ministrations.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, people do see. You try to shrink in his grasp, pressing yourself into his chest as the palace staff pause their duties to watch with wide eyes as the Emperor carries you out of the gardens. Some are unable to stop their jaws from slackening, others beginning to point and whisper amongst themselves.

The Emperor hardly bats an eye, his stride strong and purposeful as he carries you through the hallways and courtyards. It’s a statement in and of itself. 

You spy the smirk on an Imperial guard’s face when he opens up the doors to the throne room, your eyes narrowing when the man sends you a wink. The doors slam shut with a resounding thud, leaving only you and Zayne inside.

“Zayne- Zayne, no!” you hiss, hands scrabbling at his shoulders when you realize what he’s doing. 

Your legs kick out, trying to somehow climb up the Emperor’s tall frame. It’s futile against his strength, his hands manhandling you until he sets you down on his throne. If he doesn’t punish you for it, you fear the Heavens will. 

“Stay,” the Emperor says, pushing at your shoulders when you try to shoot up from where you’re sitting, “I command it.”

You sit in place rigidly, back straight. There are centuries of history that make up this throne, and you can’t help but feel that you are somehow dishonoring it all by sitting here. 

“What are you-” your brows furrowing when he suddenly begins to bend.

Fingers digging into the arms of the throne, you feel as though you might faint as you watch the Emperor bow to you before sinking to his knees. Zayne stares up at you expectantly, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

“G- get up!” you whisper heatedly.

There’s no one here, but you can only imagine the severity of the consequences if someone were to stumble in here and find the Emperor on his knees for you.

“Command it,” he says, looking perfectly content in his current position.

“No one can command the Emperor!”

“I will not move unless you exert your authority,” Zayne says simply.

Your eye twitches at his insistence, at his own brazenness. 

“Say it,” he coaxes gently, “say it and I will stand.”

“I-” your breath catches in your throat awkwardly. You flush when Zayne nods his head encouragingly, your voice breathy when you begin to speak again. “I c-command you to stand.”

“Very good,” he murmurs, standing up and moving towards you.

Zayne smiles at you, his head dipping to crash his lips onto yours, his hands braced on the arms of his throne. You gasp, arms wrapping around his neck as he kisses you fiercely. The Emperor continues his onslaught of kisses, dragging his lips down your neck as his fingers pull free the knot holding your robes together.

“You think your station determines your worth,” Zayne whispers, his teeth scraping your shoulder, “but this- you are worth more to me than the finest jade.”

“Stop,” you whisper, eyes slipping shut, “you must stop speaking like that. It does awful things to my heart.”

He laughs softly, kissing between your breasts. You bite your lip as his mouth envelops your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple. His teeth catch on it, tugging playfully before letting it pop free as he switches breasts. You run your fingers through his long hair, head tipping back against the throne as your body convulses.

The Emperor holds you in place, letting his tongue lave over your areola, his half-lidded eyes peering up at you to catch your reactions. You give him a weak smile and Zayne moans around your breast, his hand squeezing at the fat of your other breast.

Your dazed eyes watch as he kisses down your body, kissing your hip then your navel. He sinks to his knees once again, and you can’t find it in yourself to reprimand him, lost in the haze of lust and love. Zayne kisses the curls of hair on your mound, his hands gripping your calves to help guide your legs over his shoulders.

“I have missed this,” he whispers, his thumbs pulling apart your folds.

“As have I,” you sigh.

You moan when Zayne licks up a stripe over your cunt, collecting your arousal on his tongue. He rests his cheek against your thigh, watching intently as your aching hole clenches around nothing, watching as more slick drips from you.

“Stop staring,” you mumble, pushing at his head gently.

“I enjoy the sight,” he says in return.

Your thighs twitch when he pushes the hood of your clit up a little more, exposing the swollen bud. Zayne groans, kissing the inside of your thigh firmly before licking over your cunt again. A strangled gasp rips out of your throat, hands tightening in his hair as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

“Z- Zayne- ah- hah!” 

A soft whimper escapes when he kisses your clit, his fingers dimpling into the flesh of your thighs harshly. Zayne pulls you to the edge of the throne, his face burying deeper as he groans again, drinking down your slick. 

You squeal when he fucks his tongue into you, body shaking uncontrollably as you fist his hair tighter. He hisses against your cunt, renewing his efforts. You can feel his mouth opening wider, trying to consume you whole, licking and sucking desperately at every inch of velvety, sensitive flesh he can reach.

His nose rubs against your clit, and you’re seeing stars. The Emperor makes an obscene noise and you can feel his tongue moving inside of you, the feeling making your thighs clamp around his head. 

“Have- have you ever put your fingers inside of yourself?” he asks, raising his head.

You shake your head, watching as his fingers stroke over your clit lovingly, his mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses to your knee.

“May I?” the Emperor whispers, his finger prodding at your hole.

You give him a jerky nod, legs falling apart a little more for him. He smiles up at you, his finger sinking into you slowly. You whimper at the sensation, clenching around his finger. Zayne adds another soon after, and you’re panting desperately, hips bucking as he curls them inside of you. 

“The scroll said to do something like this,” he mutters under his breath.

“You- oh- you read a scroll?” you grit out.

“It was quite informative,” Zayne murmurs, beginning to move his fingers.

“Why must you be so- ah!” 

You don’t get to finish your sentence, your knuckles turning white as you grip the throne for stability as he latches his mouth back onto your clit, his fingers thrusting in and out of you. The heat inside your stomach grows more intense with each flick of his tongue, his teeth scraping against your sensitive flesh for good measure.

Moans have begun to fill the air, and you can’t find it in yourself to care anymore, letting go completely. You guide his head to where you want him, toes curling against his back, crumpling his silk robes. Zayne’s mouth works with his fingers diligently, his fingers crooking up a little more to graze the spot where you need it most.

You peek down to see the pink flush on his cheeks and your back arches, his name leaving your mouth in a cry as you come on his fingers and his tongue. The Emperor moans as you writhe, his fingers moving in and out of you a couple more times before freeing them from your clenching walls.

Chest heaving, you pant, slumping back in the throne as he kisses across your puffy folds and sensitive cunt. Your thighs twitch a little when he peppers soft, little kisses against your clit and you can’t help but think the man has an obsession with its ability to bring you such pleasure.

The Emperor kisses up your body and you cup his jaw, kissing him sweetly.

“I fear this throne may be ruined,” you whisper against his lips.

He laughs, his nose nudging yours gently, “I recall promising to take you on it.”

“Before that,” you stand up on shaky legs, pushing at his chest until he sits back on his throne.

Adoration glimmers in his eyes, watching as your loose robes slip from your shoulders, pooling at your feet. You stand bare before the Emperor, and you catch the slight spreading of his thighs to relieve the ache of his cock.

This time it’s you that’s sinking to your knees, pulling his robes free. The muscles of his abdomen clench when you run your fingers down his chest, his hand coming up to cover his flushed face.

“Why are you shy now?” you accuse, pouting up at him.

His thighs twitch when you curl your hand around his cock and you can feel the throb of his fat, hot length. 

“You do not have to-” he whispers when he sees your head dip.

“I want to,” you say stubbornly.

Zayne nods in acquiescence, moaning when you begin to drag your hand up and down his cock. It’s a little intimidating when you stare at it up close, but you swallow down your worries, leaning forward to kiss the tip experimentally.

His cock twitches in response, pre-cum beading at the tip. Your tongue darts out, licking up the little glob, feeling the taste of him spread across your tongue.

“Zayne,” you whisper, breath fanning over his cock, “Zayne, you must watch me.”

The Emperor groans at your lilting voice, his eyes opening the moment your mouth envelops him. His hips buck and you nearly seize up at the feeling of the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You mewl around him, breathing through your nose, tongue swirling before your head begins to bob up and down.

“Fuck,” Zayne hisses, his fingers spreading across your scalp, “my love, you are devious.”

You hum in response, pulling off of his cock in favor of giving more attention to the tip of it. You swirl your tongue, tongue flicking at the flared head and it’s enough to make Zayne whine, his thighs spreading wider for you. 

“Can you take it deeper?” he asks, his fingers trailing down the curve of your cheek.

“I shall try,” you murmur, mouth opening for him.

He hooks his thumb into the corner of his mouth, cupping your chin before his thumb spreads over the flat of your tongue. You smile, eyes flashing with mischievousness as you suck his thumb into your mouth, tongue flicking against the pad of it. 

Zayne shoots you a searing look and you watch as he grips the base of his cock. He drags the tip of his cock against your closed lips, entranced as he watches his pre-cum smears across your lips. His other hand presses at the back of your head and your mouth opens again, letting him guide his cock into your mouth.

“Just like that,” he whispers, “good girl.”

You can feel arousal shooting through you at the praise, slick pooling between your thighs yet again. The ache is so unbearable that you shove your hand between your thighs, rubbing at your clit.

The Emperor pushes your head gently and you go willingly, slurping and sucking around his thick cock. Saliva drips from your mouth, coating his cock and his balls, strings of it landing on the edge of his throne. You rub at your clit faster, eyes fluttering as he brushes your loose hair away from your face.

“A- ah,” Zayne rasps, “hah- my love.”

The term of endearment is enough to have you taking it upon yourself to sink down his cock even more. The tufts of his black hair hit your nose for a moment, but you’re inexperienced and you’ve overestimated your own abilities. The feeling of his cock filling your throat is too much, and you choke, throat seizing, causing you to pull off with a hoarse cough as your eyes water.

Concern flits across Zayne’s face, his thumb swiping over your swollen lips. You give him a watery smile, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He sighs in relief when he sees you’re okay, leaning forward to place a tender kiss to your lips.

“So willful,” the Emperor murmurs.

He slides his hands under your armpits, picking you up and setting you down on his lap.

“I can do it again,” you mumble, gaze lowering to see his cock pressed between your bodies.

Zayne smiles, petting at your sides, “as much as I enjoyed the feeling, I cannot have my darling choking on my cock.”

“I was not choking,” you whine, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“If you insist,” Zayne soothes, “but when we are married, I will have many more opportunities to watch you swallow my cock.”

The Emperor’s constant promise of marriage has your heart lurching and you lean forward, crushing your lips against his. He grunts in surprise at your sudden action but returns the kiss just as eagerly, squeezing at your hips.

You whine into his mouth, his hair tickling your skin as he presses forward, his hips rolling up into yours. You can feel his hard cock between your thighs, the length dragging between your folds. 

Zayne groans at the sensation, his head falling back and you take the opportunity to kiss down his neck, rolling your hips wantonly, your nails digging into his broad shoulders.

“Who are you?” he whispers, groping the fat of your ass.

“W- what?” you pull back, confusion spreading across your face.

The Emperor guides your hips to continue moving, your folds hugging his cock as you grind against it.

“Who are you?” Zayne asks again, “your title, what is it?”

Pleasure has made your mind hazy, and you can’t discern whether he’s playing a game of some sort with his questions, or whether he’s suffering from some sort of untimely amnesia.

“Your concubine,” you reply, “I thought-”

You jolt in his arms when he suddenly lands a heavy spank to your ass, his eyes narrowing when he hears your answer.

“Incorrect,” Zayne murmurs, his hand squeezing your ass in warning.

“I am your concubine- ah!”

Zayne shakes his hand, spanking you twice. You can feel the prickly heat spread across your skin, the pain searing. You glare up at him, and he smiles back, his hand smoothing over your reddened backside. 

“Who are you, my love?” he whispers, his nose nudging yours.

Oh. Oh. 

The Emperor’s insistence is a remarkable thing, you think. He may be even more stubborn than you are. Zayne’s fingers tapping against your cheek brings you out of your thoughts, your eyes meeting his. 

“I- I am your Empress,” you say quietly.

“Precisely.”

Zayne slots his lips over yours and you mewl, your hips beginning to rock again, inner thighs wet with your slick and his pre-cum smeared over his abdomen. He kisses you over and over until you’re short of breath and your lips are swollen and slick with his spit.

“Will you take my cock, my love?” 

“Y- yes,” you say airily, lifting your hips as he grips the base of his cock, “please.”

Zayne squeezes your hip, watching as you bite your lip and sink down on his cock. His cock is just as girthy as you remember, filling up your needy hole perfectly. Your body falls forward at the feeling and Zayne kisses your cheek, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Always take my cock so well,” he praises.

Your hands plant themselves against his chest as your head tips back, taking what you want from him. Hips rising and falling, airy moans filling the air, you ride the Emperor. Zayne moans with you, his hands kneading at the flesh of your sides before drifting to take handfuls of your ass too.

“So good,” you slur, the force of your movements increasing, “feels so good, Zayne.”

“I know,” Zayne whispers, watching the bounce and sway of your breasts as you move atop him, “use me, my love.”

You do as he says, using him to drive yourself further to the edge of pleasure. The sounds filling the throne room are lewd, the clap of skin echoing throughout coupled with your shared noises.

Your thighs burn as you roll your hips, taking his cock deeper into the heat of your cunt, feeling it punch into the most sensitive spot inside of you. It’s too much, the mind-numbing sensations and your own body tiring with every movement.

You slump against him, hips slowing to a pitiful stop, his fat cock still stuffed inside of you. It twitches and you whimper, peering up at Zayne desperately.

“Husbands should take care of their wives,” you mumble, lips pressing against his.

“But we are not yet married,” he whispers teasingly. 

Zayne kisses you slowly, his hand sliding up your neck and stopping to cup your cheek. He molds you to his will, maneuvering your body as he sees fit, grabbing at every inch of flesh he can reach.

“But I am yours,” you say earnestly, “and I will be yours till the day I die.”

“You will, won’t you?” Zayne smiles, drawing you closer, “nothing makes me happier, my dear.”

You wail when he suddenly ruts up into you, balls slapping against your ass as he tightens his grip to bounce you up and down on his lap. Your hands lose their holds on his shoulders, scrabbling for stability until you find purchase on the top of his throne. 

The Emperor is fucking you on his throne. 

You try to feel some sense of mortification, but you can’t, the feeling of his cock erasing all sensible thoughts from your mind. Zayne slaps your ass and you squeak, body falling forward even more. Your breasts press into his face and you whine when he mouths at them, sucking a hardened nipple into his mouth.

The Emperor’s name leaves your mouth in a pleading chant and he answers your needs, pulling you down until your cunt is flush with the base of his cock, pussy swallowing up his length completely. Zayne slows to a grind, keeping his cock stuffed inside of you. 

You curl an arm around his neck, hugging him closer to your breasts and Zayne groans, his mouth opening wider to try and take in your entire breast. He stares up at you, the flush on his cheeks deepened and eyes so, so soft. 

Your lips slot over his as soon as his mouth detaches from your breast, your lips working against his slowly and sweetly, hips swaying back to meet the slow thrusts of his hips.

“You have ruined me,” you confess, cheek resting on his shoulder.

“Better it be me than some other man,” he whispers.

You agree with him on that. Zayne has given you far more than you could’ve possibly dreamed, the twist of fate bringing you something, or rather, someone to cherish.

“You are everything, Zayne.”

He groans at your bold words, his head falling back against his throne. You come undone in slow waves, body trembling as he comes with you, his cock kicking inside of you as hot cum spurts from the tip, filling you up. You can feel the thickness of it, cum spilling into you for a few moments longer as your hips slow to a stop.

You both breathe heavily, his chest moving under yours. A thin sheen of sweat covers your bodies, robes forgotten as they lie at the foot of the throne. 

A soft smile graces your lips as you move his hair out of his eyes, tilting his head to kiss his forehead.

“You spoil me,” Zayne mutters, nuzzling into your palm.

“I think it is the other way around,” you laugh breathlessly.

He sighs, slumping in his throne, his cock still inside of you. You can feel it softening, no longer plugging you full as cum begins to leak out from your pussy.

“I may need more tea,” you whisper.

Zayne huffs in amusement, his fingers collecting his viscous cum. He smears it across your pussy, his fingers catching onto your clit as he rubs his cum onto the little bud. He lifts his hand to your mouth and you accept eagerly, staring into his eyes as you suck his fingers clean of cum.

“Minx,” he mutters.

You giggle, kissing the pads of his fingers affectionately, shifting to sit on his thigh. Zayne smiles in return, his hands massaging your sore thighs. He kisses your cheek a few times, peppers a few kisses here and there over your shoulder.

“Feeling better?” Zayne asks, nuzzling your cheek.

“Much,” you whisper, smiling up at him, “but I fear I may not be able to walk.”

“Shall I carry you again?” the Emperor whispers.

You roll your eyes, prodding your fingers into his chest, “I did not enjoy that.”

“Lying is punishable by death.”

“You are insufferable,” you whisper.

Zayne leans forward for another kiss, but you deny him, slipping off of his lap. He laughs when your thighs tremble, reaching out to catch you by the waist before your knees buckle.

He tugs you onto his lap, thwarting your escape as he kisses you again. You think you won’t be leaving this place anytime soon.

-

Zayne doesn’t think there’s anything more beautiful in this world than when you’re sleeping. 

The slow rise and fall of your chest, the sweet innocence of your face, your hair splayed against the pillows, the gods must favor him for they’ve sent him a vision.

He smiles as he watches you stir in your sleep, brushing away the hair that’s fallen onto your face. Zayne can’t resist leaning closer, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek, feeling your soft skin under his.

Zayne likes it when you smile, when you glare, the way you protest against his subtle teases. He’s never met someone as endearing as you, never bothered to take interest in another until you came along with that tray of tea clutched in your hands. He hasn’t told you about how his own heart flutters at the mere thought of you, and doesn’t think he will. He’d be better off showing you instead.

Above all, he remembers when you’d stumbled into his chambers, your flustered disposition as you’d apologized. He’d been lonely before you, trapped in a dull existence with others meandering through his life without purpose.

But you’ve changed things now. He feels free when he hears your laugh, the light in your eyes warming him from within. The world around him seems brighter, sparks of color appearing in places he had never seen before. 

You had painted the world for him.

[crookedfandomquill]

This is very situational, and sadly may not be realistic for everyone, but I need y’all to understand that a very important part of political activism is fucking talking to your conservative or moderate friends and family.

My dad voted for Trump in 2016. He’s a middle class white evangelical from Arkansas. He raised me with conservative Christian values, just like his parents raised him. When he voted Trump, he was holding his nose, but he didn’t feel too bad about it, and went on to vote red down the ticket in the 2018 midterms, as well.

But I started college in 2017. Higher education and independence changed everything for me, and I went home over holidays and summers with fire in my belly and a thousand arguments ready at the drop of a hat, to my father’s dismay.

I remember crying in my room after emotional, intense arguments with him. I told him over and over that I felt betrayed by his choice to vote for a man who admitted to sexually assaulting women, who built his platform on dehumanizing immigrants and the disabled, who spread overtly-racist rhetoric, who flouted the values of kindness and self-discipline that I’d been raised on. And my dad always had some justification about the “greater good”: fighting against abortion, bolstering the economy, getting other Christian politicians into office.

But over time, as we grew further apart and I lost my will to discuss anything with him at all, he softened. He started asking me why I thought the way I did about the things we disagreed about. He would listen to my answers without interruption, and mull them over afterward instead of expressing his own opinion. And all the while, he watched the Trump presidency become cruel and absurd and devastating.

The first time he openly expressed regret to me, I had come home for a weekend after Kavanaugh was confirmed to SCOTUS. My dad realized he had helped elect a man who preyed on women… and that man had opened the door to more predators. I can’t tell you what it felt like for him to admit that he’d made a mistake, not just in voting for Trump but in defending him for so long. We kept arguing, but it was more debating than fighting. I knew he was capable of seeing my side of things, even if it took a while, and he knew I wasn’t just a sensitive college student with shallow new ideas about the world.

And then 2020 hit. Specifically, George Floyd was murdered, and the events that followed played out on the national stage. My dad was incredibly shaken by it. He asked me if I had any books from college about racial issues. I loaned him The New Jim Crow, one of the required readings for my Race and the Law class. Then I gave him Just Mercy. Then he watched the documentary 13th. Then he joined a racial harmony group he learned about through one of the few Black families at our church and insisted our whole family come. He held up signs at a protest against Confederate monuments in our conservative southern town. In three years, he went from defending Trump’s comments about “Black-on-Black crime” to publicly advocating for racial justice and opposing the death penalty.

We went together to vote in the 2020 primaries. I couldn’t help asking who he’d voted for; I didn’t even know if he’d asked for the Republican or Democratic ticket. He admitted he’d voted for Bernie. fucking. Sanders, then made me promise not to tell my grandma he’d voted liberal. When the election rolled around in November, he voted Biden. I’m sure he held his nose to do it, just like he held his nose voting in 2016. But I know he doesn’t regret it.

I am, of course, unbelievably lucky to have a parent who loved me enough, and was empathetic enough, to choose his relationship with me over his strongly-held opinions. He kept searching for truth because, as much as he’ll deny it, he’s a very smart and curious person. No degree of intelligence or curiosity makes you immune to propaganda, especially if you were raised not to question the party line. It’s easy to dismiss our conservative, conspiracy-pilled loved ones as stupid, hypocritical, and cruel. Sometimes they are. But sometimes they aren’t. Sometimes they will bend to keep their relationships from breaking. Sometimes, if they can be made to understand that their beliefs and actions are harming someone they love, they will make concessions. And sometimes they just need one person in their life to put a foot down, to be vulnerable and assertive and argumentative, to bring the impact of their politics close to home.

As the most important election of our lifetimes approaches, do not put peace over progress. If you have someone like my dad, someone who is good-willed and smart and loves you more than their own opinions, tell them how you feel. Tell them what their choices will mean for you, for your friends, for your community. Tell them what they could lose: your trust, your affection, your respect. Don’t avoid conflict if it could be productive. Because my conflict with my dad didn’t just win him over–it won over my moderate mom and one of my conservative brothers. And it put us in community with other like-minded people and led my parents to a healthier and kinder faith.

All of this to say, there is hope in conflict. There is hope in our relationships with people who think differently from us. There is hope in exposing your fear and anger and pain to people you love. And hope is a form of activism.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Phrases/Actions that make me drop to my knees, ready to submit.

All 18+ Prompts- Please tag me if you use any cause I wanna read filth :)

“That’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl/boy.”

“You’re mine.”

“Is this ok?” As they stare up at you from in between your legs. (Consent is so fucking hot and important)

“Do that again- Shit, just like that, right there.”

Ghosting their lips against yours before pulling back with a smug smirk, making you chase them desperately.

Dragging one of their nails down the side of your neck and then middle of your chest.

“Please mark me, I want everyone to know I’m yours.”

“Spread your legs baby, that’s it… Wider.”

When they murmur pure filth into your ear while they’re touching you.

Fucking someone so good that they struggle to kiss you back.

Hands desperately clutching at one another, gasping into each other’s mouths as if you were starved of one another.

“On your knees.” While their fingers thread through your hair, guiding you onto the floor.

Smirking into a kiss/against your skin when you whimper at their touch.

“My little slut to ruin.”

Interlocking your fingers above your head while making out passionately.

Pulling them closer by the collar of their shirt or their belt.

“I’m yours. Only yours.”

“You’re in no position to tease baby, remember that.”

Soft, lazy kisses and innocent touches that turn bolder and more sinful as you just can’t resist each other.

“This is wrong.” “So wrong.” While continuing to pull at each others clothes, mind fogged with nothing but lust and arousal.

Want a Part 2?

[moonstruckme]

hi my love i’m obsessed with all your works and this is my first request!

poly! marauders and cuteness aggression. like maybe reader coming home a bit tipsy from girls night and just seeing her boys and losing it. grabbing remus’ face and just kissing all over his cheeks, gnawing on james’ biceps and playing with sirius’ hair or tracing his tattoos.

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!

cw: alcohol

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 589 words

You leave a trail of things down the hallway that you swear you’ll pick up in the morning. Your bag, both shoes, your jacket. There’s no time to put any of it in its proper place, not when you know your boyfriends are all cozy and waiting for you in your bed. Everything else is secondary. 

The moment you get your eyes on them, it’s already too much. Remus is reading while Sirius chats to a nearly-asleep James, and you don’t know whether to scream or hug them or burst into tears. One feels more socially acceptable than the rest. 

A grin spreads over Sirius’ face as you crawl clumsily up the bed, so you go to him first. 

“Hi, baby.” You smear a kiss over his lips, burrowing your hands in his lovely, silken hair. It smells like his conditioner, smokey and heady and just slightly sweet. You wish you could snort it up into your nose like a drug. 

“Hi, baby,” Sirius says back at you, amused. “Did you have a good night?” 

“No,” you lament, though you think you might have enjoyed it at the time. 

Impulsively, you move to Remus, clambering across James to get on your quietest boyfriend’s lap. He’s already set down his book, so there are no barriers to your whims as you take his face between both hands, squishing his cheeks up and kissing them all over. You think you can hear the other boys laughing somewhere beyond your lovesick haze. Remus’ skin grows warmer with each ardent press of your lips. 

“None of you were there,” you go on. It’s impossible to articulate the full extent of this injustice. “You were here, being so lovely and perfect and lovely without me.” 

“That’s lovely twice.” Remus seems to recover somewhat from your surprise attack. His hand comes to rest in the middle of your back, a touch just for touch’s sake. “How much have you had, dove?” 

You make a petulant, whiny sound, burying your face in his neck. There will never be enough of them, your lovely boyfriends. Or maybe it’s that they’re enough, but you just can’t get enough. Regardless. You’re doomed to remain just on the brink of satisfaction. 

“Enough to know that I missed you a lot,” you say pitifully. 

“Awe, babydoll.” James’ laughter is at odds with his compassionate tone. “Come here, m’love.” 

This sounds like a grand idea to you. You wish they’d simply all squish together so you could lay your affections on them one by one, in rounds. 

James puckers his lips as you approach, readying for a kiss, and so is taken entirely aback when you forgo his face entirely. 

“Oh, well,” he says as you suck a hickey on his bicep. “I feel properly objectified.” 

You’re too pleased with yourself to be sorry. He flexes playfully, eliciting a string of giggles from you as you latch on tighter. 

“Do you think she’s been drugged?” you hear Remus ask. 

“Dunno.” James’ tone is fond. His big hand lands on the back of your head. 

“No, I sort of get it,” says Sirius. The mattress dips slightly, and then you feel him plant a wet kiss on your shoulder. “You just need to get it out of your system, yeah, sweetness?” 

You hum in affirmation. You wrap your arms around James’ middle, squeezing tight. 

“I love you so much,” you mumble into his skin. “I’m gonna kill you.” 

Your boyfriend’s frame rumbles with laughter. “Okay, lovie,” he says indulgently. “You go right ahead.”

[homo-house]

hey uh so I haven't seen anyone talking about this here yet, but

the amazon river, like the biggest river in the fucking world, in the middle of the amazon fucking rainforest, is currently going through its worst drought since the records began 121 years ago

picture from Folha PE

there's a lot going on but I haven't seen much international buzz around this like there was when the forest was on fire (maybe because it's harder to shift the narrative to blame brazil exclusively as if the rest of the world didn't have fault in this) so I wanted to bring this to tumblr's attention

I don't know too many details as I live in the other side of the country and we are suffering from the exact opposite (at least three cyclones this year, honestly have stopped counting - it's unusual for us to get hit by even one - floods, landslides, we have a death toll, people are losing everything to the water), but like, I as a brazilian have literally never seen pictures of the river like this before. every single city in the amazonas state is in a state of emergency as of november 1st.

pictures by Adriano Liziero (ig: geopanoramas)

we are used to seeing images of rio negro and solimões, the two main amazon river affluents, in all their grandiose and beauty and seeing these pictures is really fucking chilling. some of our news outlets are saying the solimões has turned to a sand desert... can you imagine this watery sight turning into a desert in the span of a year?

while down south we are seeing amounts of rain and hailstorms the likes of which our infrastructure is simply not built to deal with, up north people who have built everything around the river are at a loss of what to do.

the houses there that are built to float are just on the ground, people who depend on fishing for a living have to walk kilometers to find any fish that are still alive at all, the biodiversity there is at risk, and on an economic level it's hard to grasp how people from the northern states are getting by at all - the main means of transport for ANYTHING in that region is via the river water. this will impact the region for months to come. it doesnt make a lot of sense to build a lot of roads bc it's just better to use the waterway system, everything is built around or floats on the river after all. and like, the water level is so incomprehensibly low the boats are just STUCK. people are having a hard time getting from one place to another - keep in mind the widest parts of the river are over 10 km apart!!

this shit is really serious and i am trying not to think about it because we have a different kind of problem to worry about down south but it's really terrifying when I stop to think about it. you already know the climate crisis is real and the effects are beyond preventable now (we're past global warming, get used to calling it "global boiling"). we'll be switching strategies to damage control from now on and like, this is what it's come to.

I don't like to be alarmist but it's hard not to be alarmed. I'm sorry that I can't end this post with very clear intructions on how people overseas can help, there really isn't much to do except hope the water level rises soon, maybe pray if you believe in something. in that regard we just have to keep pressing for change at a global level; local conditions only would not, COULD NOT be causing this - the amazon river is a CONTINENTAL body of water, it spans across multiple countries. so my advice is spread the word, let your representatives know that you're worried and you want change towards sustainability, degrowth and reduced carbon emissions, support your local NGOs, maybe join a cause, I don't know? I recommend reading on ecological and feminist economics though

however, I know you can help the affected riverine families by donating to organizations dedicated to helping the region. keep in mind a single US dollar, pound or euro is worth over 5x more in our currency so anything you donate at all will certainly help those affected.

FAS - Sustainable Amazon Fundation

Idesam - Sustainable Developent and Preservation Institute of Amazonas

Greenpeace Brasil - I know Greenpeace isn't the best but they're one of the few options I can think of that have a bridge to the international world and they are helping directly

There are a lot of other smaller/local NGOs but I'm not sure how you could donate to them from overseas, I'll leave some of them here anyway:

Projeto Gari

Caritás Brasileira

If you know any other organizations please link them, I'll be sure to reblog though my reach isn't a lot

thank you so much for reading this to the end, don't feel obligated to share but please do if you can! even if you just read up to here it means a lot to me that someone out there knows

also as an afterthought, I wanted to expand on why I think this hasn't made big news yet: because unlike the case of the 2020 forest fires, other countries have to hold themselves accountable when looking at this situation. while in 2020 it was easier to pretend the fires were all our fault and people were talking about taking the amazon away from us like they wouldn't do much worse. global superpowers have no more forests to speak of so I guess they've been eyeing what latin america still has. so like this bit of the post is just to say if you're thinking of saying anything of the sort, maybe think of what your own country has done to contribute to this instead of blaming brazil exclusively and saying the amazon should be protected by force or whatever

[meowmeowriley]

Gaz has noticed something.

Soap's hand is black. More specifically, the pad of his middle finger on his right hand, and the sides of his ring and pointer fingers are also stained.

He knows it's staining, as he's watched the other Sergeant wash his hands numerous times. An inky black has settled into the divots of his fingerprints and refuses to wash out.

It's been weeks, with no sign of lessening. Gaz has deduced that the blackness on Soap's ring and pinter fingers is transfer from the middle, but what could it be?

Not oil, Soap isn't permitted anywhere near the motor pool, not anymore. And he uses the same gun oil as Gaz himself, and as Gaz's fingers aren't turning, that can't be it.

Finally his curiosity gets the best of him, and as the whole team was in the rec room, Gaz broke.

"What's all over your hand? For a man named Soap, doesn't look like you use it much." Teasing was innate, he couldn't help it.

Soap had been drawing in his journal, Gaz couldn't see what. The other man looked up from his work, confused. Gaz held up his own right hand, tapping his thumb to his middle finger a few times, until Soap looked down to the hand gripping his pencil.

A wolfish grin spread across Soap's fa as he spoke. "My hands look like this," he held up the stained hand, wiggling the digits in question. "So his face can look like that." He pointed to Ghost, why was sat with his balaclava on the table beside him, sipping his tea as he read the paper.

Ghost froze for just a moment, cup to his lips, before setting it down and slumping back in his chair. He sighed heavily, and closed his eyes. His eyes which were covered in eye black. "Fuckin' hell Soap, shut up." The Lieutenant muttered, before going back to reading and ignoring everyone else in the room.

Soap was doing Ghost's eye black? Scandelous. They might as well be snoggin' in public.

Anybody else remember that stupid trend of guys taking pictures of their hands all dirty and their girlfriends/wives hands all clean with that quote? (Well, I tweaked it a bit, face instead of hands. Whatever.) It was dumb as fuck, and Soap would love it.

[littlelamy]

with rafe

a/n: SPOILER for S4; rafe x pogue!reader; if you haven’t seen s4 yet and don’t want spoilers please do not read it !!! i wanted to post it tomorrow but i love it so much so I’m posting today!

proposal with rafe

The sun casts a golden glow across the water as Barry’s boat floats in the middle of the water while a determined rafe zooms on his jetski to shore. He swings a leg off the jet ski, wading through the shallow waves as he makes his way to where you’re sitting under a tree, your gaze meeting his. There’s something different in his eyes—a softness, maybe even a hint of vulnerability, and you feel your pulse quicken as he reaches for your hand, his grip warm and gentle.

“Come sit with me,” he murmurs, his voice low but steady, leading you to a spot beneath the shade. His expression is so uncharacteristically tender, it leaves you feeling both anxious and curious. He takes a deep breath, as if summoning the courage for something important.

“Before I... before I take off, I wanted to say something,” he says, his eyes searching yours, his tone holding a weight that makes your heart race. Confused but drawn in, you nod, watching as he sinks down on one knee before you, reaching into his pocket to pull out a beautiful diamond ring. The delicate silver band catches the light, and you see his hand tremble slightly as he holds it out, a touch of vulnerability showing through.

“It was my mom’s,” he says quietly, his voice filled with a softness that you rarely hear. "Been in the family forever, so I know that's some Kook bullshit, but I..." His gaze holds yours, a gentle warmth shining through. “I just wanted to you to have it, before I...I left, so you know that we're real.”

Your heart swells, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his eyes and the gesture that feels so intimate, so unexpected. You nod, a smile breaking across your face, and the weight of his love wraps around you as he slides the ring onto your finger with a tenderness that takes your breath away.

Your heart still pumping fast at his words as warmth spreads through you as he steps forward and sweeps you into his arms, holding you close as his lips find yours. His kiss is deep and passionate, filled with longing and the intensity he’s been holding back. He groans softly, pressing you closer, and you feel the weight of his emotions as you loop your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. He pulls you deeper into the kiss, as if it’s his way of saying everything he can’t put into words.

He pulls away smiling at your now heavy finger, his thumb brushing over your hand before he reaches into his pocket again and pulls out his keys. He holds them out to you, his fingers brushing yours as he places them into your palm.

“I want you…” he starts, his voice husky with feeling, “…I want you to quit your job, and I want…I want you to move in with me.” He pulls you in again with a even more passionate (if it’s even possible) kiss that makes your knees buckle. "Now we got that sorted," Rafe says laughing with the biggest smile as he pulls away from the kiss.

“I’ll be back in a few weeks, all right? Here. Stay at my…..Stay at our place.” He presses the keys into your hand with a firm but gentle insistence. As he pulls back his hands, he rests his forehead against yours, smiling, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I love you,” he says softly, pressing a final kiss to your forehead, then lips before stepping away. He pauses, looking back at you one last time, his eyes holding a promise, a warmth that leaves you feeling like the luckiest person in the world as he steps back onto his jet ski.

As he starts up the engine and disappears across the water, you’re left with the keys, the ring, and the weight of his words—feeling the love and commitment he’s offering, and the life he wants to build with you.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @wniektty

[hoshifighting]

    cold hearted!jeonghan + virginity loss

— after the rumors spread about Jeonghan, the coldest guy in the university, having the biggest crush on you, you ask him to be your first.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, virginity loss, oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, begging, protected sex.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

it feels almost too easy.

you’ve spent years skirting around the idea, dropping hints here and there to guys you thought could be good enough, but somehow it never worked out. none of them felt right—not that it was about romance, but the hesitation always lingered when it came down to it. maybe it was nerves, maybe it was the wrong guys, but the frustration built up to the point where you just wanted to get it over with.

and then there’s jeonghan.

the guy everyone whispers about, cold-hearted, unapproachable, but with a reputation that’s impossible to ignore. girls gossiping in between lectures, bathrooms filled with whispers of him being distant yet insanely attractive. and somewhere along the line, you heard it—the rumor that he had the fattest crush on you.

the thought of it festered in your mind for weeks. yo know him, a few polite exchanges, some assignments you did together, pairing up on p.e... there’s a confidence in your gut that he’ll say yes.

you hadn’t planned on showing up at his dorm unannounced, yet here you are, standing outside jeonghan’s door with a racing heart and sweaty palms. knocking felt surreal, like a dream you might regret later, but you do it anyway because you’re desperate. a familiar, twisted excitement coils low in your stomach when you hear footsteps, and the door swings open to reveal jeonghan—leaning against the frame, as nonchalant as ever.

“what’s up?” he asks, eyes scanning your face like he’s trying to read your thoughts. the casualness in his voice makes you almost forget why you’re here. almost.

“can i come in?” you stammer.

he steps aside without a word, allowing you to slip past him into the small room. his dorm smells faintly of laundry detergent and something minty. it’s tidy, too—unexpectedly so.

“this is new,” he says, sitting on the edge of his bed, arms folded, watching you. “you showing up here and all.”

you laugh nervously, wringing your hands as you stand awkwardly in the middle of the room. “yeah, well… i’ve been thinking.”

his eyebrow quirks up, like he’s daring you to keep going. but you hesitate, biting your lip, trying to find the right words. you’ve played this conversation out in your head a thousand times, but now, under his steady gaze, everything feels impossible to say.

he tilts his head. “you’re not here to ask me about the assignment, are you?”

“no,” you blurt, suddenly sitting down on the chair next to his bed. you can’t meet his eyes. “it’s… something else.”

silence stretches between you. jeonghan waits, patient, but there’s something flickering in his expression now—curiosity, maybe.

you take a deep breath, your voice shaky but determined. “i want you to be my first.”

his eyes widen, and for the first time, jeonghan looks genuinely caught off guard. “what?”

“i… i want to lose my virginity.” you blurt out, no point in dancing around it anymore. you’ve been holding onto this for years, and you’re tired. tired of hearing your friends share their stories, tired of feeling left behind.

“you want me to do it?” he shakes his head, leaning back on his elbows, processing your words. “so what, you just wanna pop your cherry and bounce?”

“no!” you shake your head quickly, heart pounding as you try to explain. “i just… i don’t want my first time to be with some asshole. everyone else would treat me like a joke. but you… you wouldn’t, right?” your voice is small, and you hate how vulnerable you sound, but it’s true. jeonghan might have a reputation, but he’s never been cruel.

he closes his eyes, tipping his head back against the wall. inside, you can tell he’s thrilled—maybe he’s been dreaming about this. but the mask he wears is cold, detached, like he’s doing you a favor.

“you’re serious?” he asks, voice low.

“yeah,” you whisper.

he doesn’t move for a moment, just staring at you, like he’s deciding whether or not to believe you. then, slowly, he leans in, his face inches from yours. his breath is warm, and your heart skips a beat. it’s almost too much to handle, and you blink up at him, your voice a nervous squeak.

“are you… are you gonna kiss me?”

jeonghan furrows his brow, like it’s the dumbest question he’s ever heard. “what, you thought i was just gonna—” he stops, and you see the slightest flicker of a smile. “—get straight to it?”

you shrink into yourself a little, cheeks burning. “maybe?”

he chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that makes your stomach twist. “nah, you’re way too cute for that.”

before you can respond, his lips are on yours—wet, sloppy, and everything you didn’t expect. there’s no rush, no hurried fumbling. just him, kissing you slow and deep, making sure you feel everything. his hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as you melt into the kiss, your body buzzing.

then, he takes your hand, guiding it down to his lap, pressing it against the hard length straining through his sweatpants. you freeze, your breath hitching at the sudden contact.

“feel that?” he murmurs against your lips, voice husky. “that’s going inside you.. do you think you can take it.”

your fingers curl around him instinctively, squeezing just enough to make him groan softly. “i can.” you bite your lip.

“still sure about this?” he asks, his breath heavy.

you nod.

jeonghan's hands are all over you, moving so effortlessly, and before you know it, your clothes are off, tossed somewhere in the room. he’s slow, but it’s not the kind of slow that makes you feel exposed—more like he’s savoring the moment, taking his time like he’s got all night. and maybe he does.

when he spreads your legs, the sudden awareness of what’s happening, of how vulnerable you are, hits you. you instinctively cover your face with your hands, but you can still feel his eyes on you, taking in every inch of your body.

“cute,” he murmurs. “you hiding from me now?”

your breath catches in your throat, but you peek through your fingers to see him smirking, looking like he’s in complete control. and maybe that’s what makes it less terrifying—he’s not rushing. he’s not judging. he’s just... there.

when his head dips between your thighs, you tense, unsure of what to expect. your heart races, and you let out a shaky breath as his mouth hovers over you, his warm breath ghosting over your already wet folds. then he licks, slow and slick, and you almost orgasm there, the warm tongue on your clit making your eyes slightly roll back.

“fuck,” you gasp, your hands clutching the sheets beside you, your face burning.

he pulls back slightly, lips glistening, his eyes locking with yours. “relax,” he says. “we’ve barely started.”

and then his tongue is back, sliding through every fold, licking with a patience that’s almost agonizing. he’s focused, making sure you feel everything—every lick, every brush of his lips, every soft kiss to your inner thigh between his slow, sensual movements.

your chest heaves as you try to process the sensations, but it’s overwhelming. this is what you’ve been missing out on all these years? the thought is almost laughable now, especially when he sucks on your clit, gently at first, then harder, leaving it swollen and pulsing.

“oh my god,” you cry out, the sound escaping you before you can stop it.

jeonghan grins against you, winking naughty, and as if to rub it in, he gives your clit a playful suck, sending you squealing. he looks up at you, still grinning. “you like that?”

you don’t even answer, can’t answer, because your brain is too fogged up. you can’t think, can barely breathe, and he hasn’t even started properly yet.

his hand travels down between your legs, and he presses a finger against your slick entrance, not pushing in just yet, just applying pressure, teasing. “have you ever had your little fingers here?” he asks curious.

your face burns at his words, but you nod “just one finger,” you admit, shy and sly, like a secret you’re embarrassed to reveal.

the way you say it—so sweet, so unsure—makes him throb inside his sweatpants. he exhales heavily, eyes darkening as he pushes his finger inside, just the tip at first, slowly. “just one, hmm?”

you bite your lip, nodding as he slides the rest of his finger in. the sensation is new, unfamiliar, but not uncomfortable, his finger is a bit longer than yours. he’s careful, attentive even, and that’s what makes you relax into the feeling.

“you’re so tight,” he mutters as he adds a second finger, stretching you out even more. you wince slightly at the stretch, but the way he curls his fingers inside you, scissoring them slowly, almost instantly makes the discomfort melt.

your hips buck instinctively as he works you open, his movements precise, his eyes fixed on you like he’s studying every reaction. “how’s that feel?”

“good,” you breathe, the word slipping out before you can stop it.

he chuckles softly, his free hand moving up to caress your thigh as his fingers pump in and out of you, his pace maddeningly slow. “you’re getting impatient, aren’t you?”

you whine in response, your voice shaky. “take your clothes off,” you mumble, your neediness evident in your tone.

jeonghan pauses, amusement flickering in his eyes. “hmm? what’s that?”

“take them off,” you repeat, a little more urgent this time, your voice coming out in a needy whine.

he grins, leaning over you, his face inches from yours. “patience, baby,” he says, his voice soft, but there’s a teasing edge to it. “you really wanna see me naked that bad?”

you nod, shameless now, your body craving the sight of him, the feeling of him against you. he’s been teasing you for too long, and it’s driving you insane.

“just wait a little longer,” he says, his tone mock-sulky, like he’s the one being deprived. but there’s a smile playing on his lips, and you can tell he’s enjoying this, the way you’re practically begging for him.

his fingers curl inside you again, hitting a spot that has you arching off the bed, a soft moan escaping your lips. “you’re so cute like this,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh as he works a third finger inside you, stretching you even more.

you whimper at the new stretch, your body trembling, but it’s the good kind of overwhelming now. the kind that has you clenching around him, needing more.

“jeonghan...” you whisper, your voice breathless, desperate.

he smirks, his thumb brushing over your clit as he scissoring his fingers inside you, spreading you open. “i love seeing you like this,” he murmurs. “all wet for me, begging like that.”

you don’t even care how wrecked you sound when you plead, “please, jeonghan. take them off.”

he laughs softly, shaking his head. “soon,” he says, his voice dripping with promise. “just let me enjoy this a little more.”

jeonghan keeps his fingers inside you, watching every twitch of your body as you clench around him, so tight he almost groans himself. you’re so close, it’s written all over your face, but you don’t even seem to notice it—lost somewhere, breathing heavily but not quite there yet. and he’s not about to let you drift off when you’re so close to cum.

“mm, baby,” he murmurs, his fingers moving just a little faster, curling them in that spot he’s already learned by heart. “you don’t even know, do you?”

you blink, dazed, barely processing his words, but then you feel his lips on your nipple—a soft peck at first, then a sharp bite that has you gasping, your hips jerking against his hand.

“there you are,” he smirks, teeth grazing over your sensitive skin as he feels you clench around his fingers again, tighter this time. “you were drifting away, but i need you right here with me. focus.”

your body reacts instantly, the tension building again, winding tighter and tighter until you can’t hold back anymore. his fingers pump in and out, wet and slick with your dampness, and the obscene sound of it fills the room as he brings you right to the edge.

“fuck, jeonghan—” your voice is shaky, barely holding it together as your hips start moving on their own, grinding down onto his hand. you’re not even sure when it happens, but suddenly, the tight coil inside you snaps, and you’re coming hard around his fingers, your body tensing, then releasing all at once.

“oh my god,” you cry out, your back arching off the bed as you orgasm, wet and messy. you’re so slick that his fingers slide easily in and out, coated in the creamy evidence of your cum. jeonghan’s eyes are glued to you, watching the way your body trembles, how soaked you are, and the satisfied smirk on his face says it all.

“so fucking wet,” he murmurs, almost like he’s talking to himself, fingers still buried deep inside you. he slows down his movements, letting you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm, his thumb brushing lazily over your clit. “you didn’t even realize how close you were, huh?”

you shake your head, still trying to catch your breath, your mind foggy from the bliss.

he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your thigh, his eyes flicking up to yours. “wanna see me take it all off now?” he teases, pulling his fingers out slowly, letting you feel every inch of them as they slip free. your breath hitches, still sensitive, but you nod eagerly, the post-orgasmic haze making you a little desperate.

“please,” you whisper, your voice a little hoarse, but the need is clear.

he grins, sitting up and tugging his shirt off halfway, but he pauses, eyes scanning the room. “wait a second,” he says, a bit too casual, as he starts searching around for something.

“what are you doing?” you ask, frustration creeping into your voice. he’s making you wait, again, and you’re about to protest when he holds up a condom, waving it in front of you with a satisfied smirk.

“can’t forget this,” he says, climbing back onto the bed.

you roll your eyes, still breathless, but your gaze drops to his chest as he slides the shirt the rest of the way off. his hand runs slowly down his chest, over his belly, and lower still to the waistband of his sweatpants.

“calm down,” he teases, his voice sweet, noticing the way your eyes are locked on his every move. “i’m not going anywhere.”

your breath hitches as he pulls his pants and boxers down, finally revealing himself to you. his cock is hard, flushed, and slick with precum, and you can’t stop yourself from staring.

“fuck, you’re pretty,” you mutter under your breath, barely aware you said it out loud until you see the way his lips curl into a grin.

“you’re the pretty one,” he counters, his voice soft as he strokes himself once, twice, before rolling the condom on. his eyes flick up to yours again, playful but with a hint of seriousness. “ready?”

you nod, your body buzzing as he lines himself up with your entrance. he slides the tip inside, and you both groan at the contact. it’s slow at first, his cock pushing into you inch by inch, and you can feel the stretch, how full he’s making you feel already.

but then, right when he’s halfway in, you gasp, “wait—stop.”

he freezes instantly, his eyes searching your face. “you okay?”

instead of answering, your hand slips between your bodies, wrapping around the base of his cock. the sudden contact makes him shudder, and he squeezes his eyes shut, groaning low in his throat. you give him a little shake, feeling the hardness of him pulsing in your hand, then slowly start guiding him deeper inside you.

you guide him in slowly, inch by inch, until your hand has nowhere else to go, and he's buried completely inside you, balls deep. you’re panting, your body adjusting to the size of him, and when you pout your lips for a kiss, jeonghan leans in without hesitation, pressing his lips to yours, swallowing the little scoff you let out between moans. the sensation of him stretching you so perfectly has your head spinning.

he pulls back slightly, eyes glued to yours as he starts moving, his hips rolling in slow thrusts. it’s a sharp sting at first, but nowhere near as painful as you expected, and the more he moves, the more that sting fades, replaced by a growing heat that makes your breath catch in your throat.

you don’t even notice the way your lips curl into the nastiest grin, like you finally got what you’ve been wanting, and you’re enjoying every second of it. jeonghan sees it though, sees the way your expression shifts from tentative to pure satisfaction, and it drives him fucking wild. his steady thrusts falter for a second, and he has to bite down on the inside of his cheek to keep himself in check.

“fuck,” he breathes, his voice shaky as he watches you. “you look like you’re having the time of your life right now.”

you moan in response, not even trying to hide it anymore. “i am.”

that’s all the encouragement he needs. his thrusts pick up, sharper now, deeper, and with each roll of his hips, his balls slap against your ass. the bed squeaks in time with his movements, but you barely notice, too caught up in the pleasure. your moans spill out freely, louder and more unrestrained, each one sending a jolt straight to his gut.

jeonghan’s losing it, the sight of you, the sound of you—it’s gonna replay in his mind for days, haunting him like a ghost, but right now, he’s not thinking about that. right now, all he can focus on is the way your body feels underneath him, how you seem to want this just as much as he does. his hips move faster, thrusts sharper and more purposeful, and fuck, you’re taking it all so well.

“god, you—” he groans, his voice strained. “you feel so fucking good. you don’t even know.”

his pace quickens, his hips rolling harder, and you gasp, your body arching up to meet him halfway. he’s hitting all the right spots now, and your moans turn into desperate little cries, your fingers gripping the sheets as you lose yourself in the feeling.

he notices how much you like it—how your body responds to every sharp thrust, how your moans get louder, and that nasty smile on your face only grows. it’s too much for him, but he tries to bury the overwhelming need down in his gut, focusing on fucking you just right.

but even then, he can’t help it—the more you react, the more he loses control, his hips working in sharper, stronger thrusts, the rhythm getting rougher as he chases that perfect high for both of you.

“you like that?” he asks, his voice rough, but the way your body clenches around him is answer enough.

he can’t help but smirk at your desperate little gasps. each thrust brings a little more pleasure, and your nails dig into his back, urging him on as you match his pace.

“more,” you whimper, the need spilling from your lips like a prayer. “please, jeonghan, don’t stop.”

he chuckles, making your heart race. “as if I could,” he replies, picking up the pace even more. you feel that familiar heat pooling deep inside you again.

he can’t help but lean down, pressing a kiss to your neck as he continues to rock into you, relishing in every little sound that escapes your mouth.

“that’s it,” he murmurs against your skin, his breath hot. “let me hear you.”

your moans grow louder, echoing off the walls as you feel the pressure building within you again. your body thrums with need as you claw at him, the sensation of him filling you completely making everything else fade away. you’re lost in him, in this moment, and nothing else matters.

“i’m so close,” you manage to gasp, your words barely coherent as your hips start moving on their own, desperate for that release.

jeonghan feels it, too—your body tightening around him, the way you’re pushing back against him, and it drives him crazy. he grips your hips tighter, controlling your movements, thrusting deeper, harder, pushing you right to the edge.

“cum pretty, cum f’me,” he urges sultry, and you can feel that heat building to a boiling point.

“jeonghan—” your voice breaks, and just like that, you’re falling, you’re gripping him tightly, your body spasming as you cum, crying out his name as everything blurs into a haze.

“that’s it, baby,” he groans, his own pleasure rising as he watches you unravel beneath him. “so fucking beautiful.”

the way your body squeezes him as you ride out your orgasm sends him over the edge, and he follows you, thrusting harder as he lets go, filling the condom as you both collapse.

you both lie there for a moment, breathless, the only sounds filling the room are your mingled breaths and the soft creaking of the bed. jeonghan brushes a strand of hair away from your face, a lazy grin spreading across his lips as he looks down at you.

“so, do I get to be the one who pops that cherry again sometime?”

“if you’re lucky,” you tease bakc, but deep down, you know you’re both hooked, and this was just the beginning.

[artytaeh]

as promised, here's a treat for my mattheo riddle girlies ‹3 i hope you like it and feels ?? canon ?? because i honestly think that this is sooo matt coded. anyways! tysm for all the love and support. 🌷

warnings : obvious explicit mentions of sexual content, meant for +18 readers; read at your own risk.

’⭑ 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 : 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌.﹙★﹚

﹙★﹚ in one word, mattheo riddle is messy. that's the way that mattheo loves the most: messy, passionate, nasty, almost impulsive. a mess of feelings and urges alone.

despite seeking for his own pleasure, mattheo prides himself as someone who can satisfy both himself and his partner.

WHEN EATING YOU OUT, mattheo doesn't hold back. incapable of sticking to something for a long moment, he's a mess— running his flat tongue between your lips, then kissing your nub with a loud wet sound; mattheo doesn't care at all if the lewd sound of his lips and mouth on you rival your own moans. he's here to ravish you, so take it without complains, yeah?

more often than not, mattheo is one to use both his fingers and mouth. languidly kissing your core, almost messily making out with your clit, mattheo stretches you out with his fingers, scissoring the tight walls before curling upwards— you swear that each time he does this, you can feel him smirking against your sensitive skin.

empty bedroom, broom closet, locker rooms aftee quidditch practice; mattheo riddle doesn't give a flying fuck.

he's loud and vocal, deal with it. what's there to be embarrassed about? let the whole school know how much mattheo loves to drop to his knees for his girl.

honorable mention that no one has the balls to make a clownery comment about it. mattheo sent assholes with broken noses to the infirmary wing for much less.

mattheo isn't one to spread your legs while eating you out. he wouldn't make your legs tired right in the beginning— the slytherin needs them strong, not sore, to keep up with the way he'll manhandle you afterwards.

besides, mattheo is insanely addicted to the feeling of your thighs clenching around his head, making him feel the warm and smooth skin of those inner thighs almost suffocate him, from his place between your legs.

non ironically jokes about that being the most heavenly way to die. mentioned it once during a conversation with his friends— about dying like this. with honor—, his smug expression deeply contrasting with your embarrassed one.

whenever possible, nevermind if he's having you sat on a desk, chair, or standing up against a wall with him on his knees for you— mattheo finds a way to have one hand pleasuring you, in sync with his eager tongue, and the other sneakily on your chest.

his fingers barely give attention to your nipples; he's so not sorry, but there's no way that mattheo can help himself— his hand cups your bare breast, yanking the bothersome bra downwards or pushing it upwards, anything to have his palm on that soft skin that drives him insane.

groaning, with his face buried in your middle, mattheo squeezes your chest with a greedy touch. damn right that all of you belongs to him.

﹙★﹚ : SOME KINKS OF HIS, might include:

⋆ spitting : mattheo has heard and ignored comments that refer to this as something disgusting; he can't help it— to him, this is so hot. definitely has a thing for spitting inside your mouth, whenever you're facing him, underneath his heavy body. would also spit on your core before being inside you, or eating you out. prefers to be the one giving, instead of receiving; even so, mattheo would find it hot if you did so on his cock, before giving him a handjob or using your mouth.

⋆ biting : all i say is, good luck. mattheo riddle can't properly put it into words, however, his love for bodies who look a bit more chubby, where his hands can grab and squeeze, are also enthralling to him because there's a lot of room to bite. thighs? he'll spend a long time there, even if mattheo doesn't have the intention to take it further— he just likes the feeling of your skin inside his mouth, biting into it! neck too, which can be a nuisance sometimes; you never know if mattheo is burying his face on the crook of your neck because he's sleepy or in the mood of creating more bruises there. hard bites. like, the ones that hurt like a bruise after a few days.

⋆ choking : this man loves to have a hand around your neck, as if it is a collar that dictates his ownership over you. his hand there, fingers curling around the skin of your neck that he positively filled with bruises, so easily cups your jaw, keeping your face on his direction, facing him. this same hand is the one that is quick to slap your face a couple of times, hitting your cheek with his fingertips— enough to make it sting for brief seconds, not really bruising your face.

well, the same can't be said about your hips, thighs and ass. mattheo doesn't hold back there.

⋆ anal : would do his best to convince, or at least tempt you into trying it once with you. even so, should you not feel comfortable with it, mattheo would happily hold on to what he can do instead— if your limit are plugs, and you accept to wear it sometimes, mattheo is already over the moon.

hungrily licks over it while using his fingers on you, his wet muscle feeling the skin of your rim and the cold metal of your plug, pressuring his fingers on it. would want to do it in positions that gives him a good vision of the plug inside you, thumbs brushing over the skin of your asscheeks and the toy deep inside your other hole. it drives him crazy.

however! if even plugs aren't something that you'd feel comfortable with or want to try, mattheo accepts that he wasn't able to make the idea tempting for you. and, like a good loser— which doesn't apply to quidditch— mattheo will be more than happy with what he can get. which means, leaving a mess of handprints, finger marks, vicious bites and hickeys on your asscheeks.

⋆ not a rope bunny : even though being tied up or doing so to his partner is something that some people view as, well, something to spice up a relationship— mattheo doesn't perceive it that way at all. even the thought of having you tied up isn't charming to him; if anything, mattheo might pin down your wrists with his hand for a moment, but that's as far as it goes, with restricting touches; because mattheo, too, loves the feeling of your hands on him.

and let me tell you: this man would hate being tied up. what do you mean he can't touch you? mattheo can promise to hold back from thrusting up or switching positions, to be in control— but please don't prevent him from touching you. mattheo would look at you so genuinely sad, that he can't cup your chest or feel the skin of your thighs, much less get your ass squeezed by his greedy, warm hands. :(

⋆ biggest victim of cockwarming : no, not even for a bet. mattheo wouldn't be able to resist the temptation. for starters, why would he entertain the idea of not moving at all? mattheo is all too starved and hungry for you to be still; he might hold on for a few moments just to satisfy your requests, but ultimately, his patience will run out and he'll show you how it's a hundred times better to do something about it.

⋆ ¹overstimulation : believe it or not, mattheo wouldn't purposefully overstimulate his partner. however, when intentional, only happens if mattheo wants to prove a point, usually fueld by jealousy— because whatever guy you were laughing with, couldn't possibly making you tremble and fall apart on his arms like this, right? and yet, mattheo might also be tempted to use this as a punishment for bratty behavior.

⋆ ²edging : rarely ever does this to his partner; mattheo enjoys bringing pleasure to you, not finding satisfaction on depriving you from an orgasm if he's got you so close, so high for his touch alone. rather than torturing you, mattheo finds more enjoyment on the sight of having you coming undone on his fingers, tongue, or cock. coaxes and encourages you to do so as well, having little to no care over clothes, sheets or surfaces getting wet.

HOWEVER, mattheo is one to dealy his own release. mattheo riddle is addicted to the feeling of pleasure given by you; your hands, mouth, the feeling of slipping inside you— mattheo never wants it to end.

strategically finds ways to last longer with you, by switching positions, giving him a few seconds to calm down, if he feels like he's almost there. won't ever leave you unsatisfied; even if he finishes before you, and can't go on, then mattheo is more than happy to make you come in another way.

⋆ experimentalist : mattheo let's you do anything and everything to him— leaving little room to things that he would never be tempted to try out. is there something you want to try? perhaps a new kink in the list? he's all for it, like a puppy trailing right behind you.

so you want to use him like a toy? suit yourself; mattheo is already on the process of stripping out his clothes, moving to lay down on the bed. something more risky? his fingers intertwine with yours, that devilish mind of his already thinking about time, place, and what he'd love to do with you. unironically, mattheo riddle would even let you put a bow on it, if you so much as asked him to do it. there's practically nothing that he shies away from doing with you.

⋆ blood / knife play : listen. if mattheo's kinks were to be explain with an iceberg, this one would be on the bottom of it. mattheo knows how bad this sounds— that the sight of blood can spark some worse assumptions about him, that are already as bad as they can get. even worse if he explains how charming it sounds for him, how it gets him hot and bothered, the idea of carving his initials on that pretty smooth skin of yours.

m.r. two letters, ones that he traces in random trees around school, when he's feeling bored of his friends' conversation. m.r., easy to write, due to previous practice.

it's a terribly territorial, even possessive craving of his; mattheo riddle can't excuse that urge that resonates deeply within him. and if you indulge this fantasy of his, or ask to do the same to him? mattheo wouldn't live for the embarrassment of how hard that would instantly get him.

﹙★﹚: FAVORITE POSITIONS. .ᐟ

⋆ REVERSE COWGIRL is a favorite of his, specifically for the heavenly sight of you, watching you struggle as he relaxes against the mattress. enjoying the show, his eyes darken as he watches you struggle to bounce on his shaft— feeling, admiring each time that your ass harshly meets the skin of his groin, prominent with each movement of your hips. no doubts that mattheo will smack your ass if your rhythm falters even for a second.

⋆ PRONE BONE, as soon as mattheo gets you as comfortable as you can get. fixing a pillow under your hips to make it easier for the two of you— not only getting you to arch your back, presenting your rear to him, but also to improve your comfort before he takes it all on you.

⋆ AGAINST A WALL works all too well for mattheo, as someone who prides himself on his strength and muscles, having a build that allows those obvious lines marking his four pack abs.

( mattheo would die right there and then, if you ever used them. as in, giving up on using any pillows to rub and grind against him instead, letting mattheo feel how wet he gets you over his firm skin. would have the best smoke of his life as he watches you, murmuring praises and encouraging you to use him as a toy. )

(...) ⋆ not just in bed, but in general— mattheo riddle loves displaying how strong he is; how much weight he can take and strength he has. the first he showcases with you on his arms; the latter he wordlessly brags with each dislocated jaw that comes from his doing. so carrying you and lifting you off the floor is a favorite, almost instinctive, action for mattheo.

sometimes he's so into this, that he won't seek for a surface— not even a bloody desk, much less the comfort of a sofa or bed— pinning you against the wall. his hands lower down your body, feeling the curve of your waist, giving a greedy squeeze to your bottom, until his hands settle for the back of your thighs, easily hoisting you up from the floor. it's nothing for mattheo to have you in this position for a while— he's bloody thankful for it. his hands greedily squeeze the skin at hand, pressing himself between your legs, grinding your middle with his bulge.

⋆ not really a position itself, but mattheo goes INSANE for DRY HUMPING. this man loves nasty, messy sex; creaming his pants as you grind on his clothed bulge, feeling you getting wetter and wetter until your underwear becomes a mess on top of him— it gets mattheo every. single. time.

﹙★﹚: PREFERRED PLACES. .ᐟ

the privacy of a bedroom is one that mattheo can't ignore, or deny, given his previous experiences. doesn't really mind if the two of you do it in yours, or his dorm— however, mattheo has a slight preference for his dorm room, because he knows where to find what he needs, which drawer, which nightstand, reaching for it blindly.

HOWEVER, mattheo isn't one to pass an opportunity, and being one to indulge his desire and need over you, passing by as an exhibitionist isn't something that mattheo is scared to do.

⋆ locker rooms, specifically right after practice or a quidditch match. if mattheo had to choose a place, then he wouldn't need to think a lot about this one. as someone who has a lot of pent up energy, there's something about him being all sweaty from giving his all as slytherin's beater, then riding the adrenaline off on — in — you.

⋆ ... bonus points if it happens inside a shower stall, the two of you hidden by a single curtain, moans and groans muffled by the sound of water falling down your bodies.

⋆ empty classrooms, strategically used during key moments of day or nightime, when there's the reassurance that it won't be used anytime soon in the next couple of hours. mostly during meal time, given that even professors would be too busy on the other side of the castle. there's something about bending you over an abandoned desk or getting you sat up on the currently unused professor's desk, for mattheo— he can't exactly say if it's about the thrill of breaking unwritten rules, or the way it somehow challenges their authority.

⋆ broom closets, which mattheo would preferably only use for the sake of a make out, during those days that your routines don't seem to match, for some cruel reason. if he misses you too much, separated due to different classes, different schedules, mattheo will steal you for a few minutes to get much deserved kisses. aching for the feeling of his skin against his again. however, it rarely develops into sex— the most it might get to, is giving him a blowjob or mattheo using his fingers on you; otherwise, broom closets are too tiny, too uncomfortable for more.

which mattheo had to accept, after almost getting caught because in the middle of his enthusiasm, mattheo knocked off a few brooms on the floor.

﹙★﹚ MORE RANDOM HEADCANONS :

if you asked him whether mattheo prefers ass or boobs, he'd say that HE CHOOSES BOTH. now, if you pressured him into choosing just one— mattheo seriously takes long minutes to decide. full on blank stare into nothingness, barely blinking as his mind uses all of his concentration to do the mathematics of which part of your body he prefers. after long minutes of indecision, chooses your ass, almost mourning it, as if mattheo would wake up to never stare at your chest again.

THE TYPE OF SLAP YOUR ASS AT ANY GIVEN CHANCE. mattheo riddle loses his life, but never a joke. mattheo riddle might be yelled at by you, but won't miss the opportunity to indulge that guilty pleasure of landing a smack on your ass.

TALKS YOU THROUGH IT. doesn't shut up for the life of him; vocal, because he wants you to know how good you make him feel, and would love it if you do the same.

would learn HOW TO BE GENTLE now that he's dating, given that mattheo loses himself to the intense feelings of craving and desiring you. you blink, and suddenly mattheo is carrying you to the bed, about to remove your shirt and already on his third hickey.

SO INTO THE IDEA OF BEING SLAPPED. initially, mattheo thinks that he'd be fucking pissed if a girl dared to lay a hand on him — he can sent bigger assholes flying through the astronomy tower, who the hell are you to hit him, chipmunk? — but then. then he gets a slap from you.

dark eyes become wide, staring at a spot on the floor as his face barely moves to the side, feeling the tingle of a slight pain on his cheek. mattheo looks back to you; instead of yelling at you or being pissed at what you did—

he's horny. seriously, mattheo might find reasons to make you angry at him, so that he can marvel at how hot you look while you're furious at him, craving another slap like a bloody giggling teenager.

RARELY ACTS SUBMISSIVE, yet would let you take control if you wanted to be the one leading this time. however, mattheo has the hardest time to keep his hands to himself, or be the one to set the pace.

⋆ wouldn't tell a soul, but he jerks off the most at the memory of that time you rode him, and while bouncing on his cock, your hand hit his cheek, giving him a slap for trying to hurry the pace. you could swear you saw his pupils dilate.

doesn't mind for QUICKIES, AND HONESTLY LIKES THEM ALL THE SAME. there's something about being hidden by your skirt, and pulling your panties to the side, only to know that he's probably dripping right to that soft fabric, preventing it from lewdly trailing down your thighs. call him a pervert— mattheo is just a man with some territorial issues.

and that's probably why MATTHEO THINKS THAT IT'S SO ATTRACTIVE to still have some clothes on. he's obsessed for the sight of your body, at any given chance, and yet— ripping most of the buttons from your shirt, clothes are pushed and pulled up, down or to the side. your bra is tugged upwards so that his mouth can tease the now bare chest, fingers already on their way to lift your skirt and pull your underwear to the side. mattheo craves the sight of you so desperate for him, the same way that he's desperate for you too, both not wanting to wait any moment longer.

A WHORE FOR TOUCHES ON HIS HAIR AND SCALP. mattheo didn't care much for his hair before, until the curly shape of his dark hair became pretty to his eyes, and wanted to take the chance of such genetics to make himself look handsome. with that said, mattheo riddle wants to leave your bed with a mess of a hair— from tugging, pulling, pushing, having your fingers running through it, or massages, rubs on his scalp. having your nails scratching (not painfully. have mercy?!) on his scalp makes this man whimper.

speaking of things that make mattheo riddle whimper: KISS OR LICK OVER THE SCARS ON HIS CHEST, and you'll see how much of a mess he'll be under your lips. the skin there is so sensible, not to mention how intimate it feels, to have his previous injuries being the center of your attention, pampered and kissed so gently.

GOES INSANE IF YOU TRACE his v-lines with your tongue. literally has to grip something to hold back.

﹙★﹚ ANGRY SEX, is something that once in a while, mattheo would like to have with his partner.

mattheo is amused at the sight of his partner angry at something, whenever it doesn't root from a confrontation with mattheo that got him annoyed as well.

the argument would escalate until he's almost yelling at your face— the moment your noses almost brush together, so close, with anger radiating from both of you— mattheo loses it and shuts you up with a kiss, putting an end to the argument. after this first heated kiss, mattheo pulls away, staring into your eyes for any hint that you are too angry to kiss him, or if you don't want him to touch you / continue what you were doing.

it's hard to insist on keeping up the argument given that between yelling at each other for another ten minutes, or having him roughly thrusting into that spot that makes you see stars— well, usually, you choose the latter.

becomes missionary if the argument continues, nevermind how the pleasure makes his mind dazed with foggy thoughts. it's doggy with his hand on the back of your head, pushing your face to bury on the mattress or the comfort of a pillow, whenever mattheo can't deal with your attitude, or has had enough of the argument. doggy it is, when it's to shut you up.

even if the argument still gnaws an ugly feeling inside yours or his mind, mattheo will pull you closer to him anyways, head over his heart, fingers running through your hair. a silent way to reassure you, and mostly himself, that it'll be okay, and a fight isn't what's going to separate the two of you.

it's a terrible terrible idea to tease mattheo by keeping your underwear on. oh, so you think it's funny to grind on him with those panties of yours? that's so funny, that mattheo will rip them too. during those days that he's too dizzy with need for you, you can anticipate grief over the underwear you're wearing. and mattheo is not apologetic at all— he keeps all of these conquered prizes on the last drawer of his desk. throwing those panties away? no, no. mattheo has a better use for them.

should anyone ever touch them or find out his dirty secret, mattheo might just be tempted to break someone's fingers. what? those are his and your panties! comunism! only between the two of you!

this man has no money left for cigarettes; mattheo will be begging theodore to share them with him, because guess what! he does have to pay for property damages.

which means, giving you money for each damaged underwear from his impatient, greedy hands. sometimes, going out to hogsmeade involves shopping for more underwear— this, while mattheo is just outside the store, smoking a cigarette as he waits for you.

he'd tell his friends that it's because he wouldn't be caught inside a lingerie store. the truth is that you have forbidden mattheo from entering one with you— this man is a tall child. a tall, menacing child.

panties would be flying, his hands would cup bras and say in a way too loud tone that: 'babe! these are your size! trust my hands, i know how your pretty tits feel like.'

worse than that, mattheo would try to speed up the process. such a thing means that he'd have a pair of panties hanging on his index finger —imagine the tiniest piece of cloth, in the most vibrant, awful tone possible— as he yells: 'princess, what about these?' with the stupidest smile because mattheo thinks that he's really funny.

so, yeah. no shopping together for underwear and lingeries. mattheo is on timeout from those.

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷