#my cat sat at the door waiting for me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

crepezinhos · 2 months ago

Text

A Dream Come True

POV: Your favorite character’s banner, Wanderer, is about to come out in a few minutes, and, to contain your excitement for his launch, you decided to begin praying for him to ‘come home’. You’ve been now doing that for the past 5 minutes now while waiting for his splash art to appear in the game’s banners, but you suddenly hear knocks on your door, and the person behind it was a weird ‘cosplayer’.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a NSFW piece

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Contains: Degradation, praising, usage of toys, edging, overstimulation, slight bruising, power-play and oral/anal sex.

“Scara, please come home… Scara, please come home…” You recited that phrase over and over nonstop, each time making your volume become slightly louder than before due to your comfort in the room.

Your fingers were twirling around each other, your hands fisting against each other tighter and tighter, your forehead resting at the tip of your risen thumbs and your eyes using all their strength to keep themselves closed shut and not let your excitement take over you…

Uuuuuuuggghhhhhh!!!

How much longer do you have to wait for?! Can’t he just launch in the game already?! Why does Hoyoverse have to be so perfectionist about when they launch things in the game?! You’ve been procrastinating your duties for the past hour now just for this occasion!

You couldn’t help but open your eyes due to your overwhelming impatience and they immediately aimed at your screen in search of the current banner’s timer.

2 minutes left

Oh!

Ok! It isn’t that bad! Your praying has really helped time run faster, didn’t it?!

You smiled in joy, quickly switching the way you were sat in your gaming chair to one where you were kneeling at it, making your prayers more determined and realistic.

Scara, please come home…

Scara, please come home.

Scara, please come home!

SCARA, PLEASE COME-

Knock knock

Your whole body shivered in shock when you heard such triggering and recognizable noise, making you immediately wake up from your little fantasy.

For God’s sake! Who the heck could it be?! Can’t you enjoy a moment of excitement and joy by yourself for a single minute?!

You forced yourself to participate in reality instead of isolating yourself because of a screen, and got up from your chair to walk up to your dorm’s door, sighing in agony of killing a bit of your mood off.

It would really piss you off if the person behind it was simply someone making propaganda of some stupid, small project, instead of your roommate.

You gently grabbed and pushed the door’s handle down, opening it normally just like any other time.

“God, you really were determined to call my attention, weren’t you?! I’ve never heard any of my fans think this loud about me my entire life! Congratulations, woman, you have summoned me!” The man that was standing immediately begun scolding you as soon as your eyes were making contact, waving and gesturing his hands around to make his irony more obvious, ending his speech with them at his hips.

But you didn’t want, and couldn’t, say anything back in response, because you were too dumbfounded by the man’s appearance.

Why was the person knocking on your door… cosplaying… and acting like Wanderer?

“Hello? Woman on Earth? Cat got your tongue?” He leaned his body down to reach your eye level and brought a hand close to it, just to wave it side-by-side and snap his fingers repeatedly in an annoying manner.

“Who the fuck are you?” You had finally managed to process the information that was given to you, which caused ‘Wanderer’ to immediately sigh in boredom.

“Oh, please, don’t tell me you’re the kind of fan who pretends to be all innocent and unaware of what Genshin Impact even is in the first place...” He rose his body up again and crossed his arms while scolding your attitude.

“What are you talking about..? I’m not—!” You scoffed at what he said about you, but as soon as you remembered again that you were talking to some random, crazy cosplayer of your college, that probably had to stalk you to find out you played Genshin Impact, and that you had a duty to do, you stopped trying to defend yourself, and changed topics. “You know what? Just get out of my dorm, please.” You told the man while using a hand to push the door back to its place frenetically, trying to make him unable to react due to the lack of time.

"Wow, wow, wow, young lady!” You felt the door stiffen at one specific spot before it was fully closed, leaving a small gap between the interior and exterior of your apartment.

Your eyes widened in shock with the man’s audacity and strength, and immediately looked down to see what had happened with your door. ‘Wanderer’ had stomped his foot forward before you could shut the door, serving as an obstacle for the door to not be smacked in his face.

“Is this how you treat your favorite character after he makes the effort of coming all the way from another universe just to check on you?” You could see his eye showing up between that gap, trying to keep making eye contact with you.

“Are you insane?!” You screamed at him, trying to push the door shut with your both palms now, but it didn’t seem to affect him minimally.

You heard him sigh loudly in boredom again, and this time he sneaked his hand through the gap. Instead of doing something physical or harmful to your or your door, it actually did something that made your jaw drop.

An orb.

And not just any orb.

It was an orb that perfectly resembled how Wanderer used his Anemo powers in Genshin. It was a vertex with a black center and Anemo-colored, wind-like, effects around it. Something that also called your attention were the shiny flying wristbands around his wrists, spinning according to how intensely he used his powers.

It was jaw-dropping enough for you to accidentally drop your grip from the door, which finally made the man successful in opening it. Unlike what you would expected from a maniacal cosplayer or the actual Wanderer from Genshin Impact, he simply walked in and closed the door gently, crossing his arms later while staring at your dumbfounded face.

“Was that enough proof? Or do you need me to open a portal, bring to you Tevyat and talk to Nahida to believe that I’m the one and only Wanderer from Genshin Impact?” He asked while walking around your room like he owned it.

“I…” You couldn’t even mumble an answer to everything you had just witnessed.

This had to be some sort of dark joke being done with you, isn’t it?!

“Cat got your tongue again?!“ He turned around just scold you again while directly staring at you, but he frowned his eyebrows right after and put a hand on his chin to think. “Perhaps I wronged the address…” He mumbled quietly, his head frenetically looking at many corners of your room in search of something.

When he saw your computer, whose screen had turned black due to the lack of movement in the mouse, he rushed to it and sat on your chair, his back leaning in a very unhealthy angle. He quickly shook the mouse to turn it on again, meeting his own face stamped at the screen.

“This computer is yours, isn’t it?” Despite your lack of answer to his question, he simply took your silence as an ‘yes’. “Ok, you’ve saved more than 200 wishes… which I’m guessing is for me…” He mumbled to himself, showing a little bit of his ego, while pressing ‘Esc’ with a finger twice.

His eyes widened a little bit when he met the game’s menu and he immediately leaned his body up again with a big, proud smirk in his face.

“Aha! So you are a fan of mine, and a proud one!” He put his hands in the sides of your computer and spun it until the computer’s screen was visible to your eyes.

(Yes that’s my UID. Yes I had to change my name and bio to that for the sake of this fanfic.)

Your cheeks flushed.

How come you’ve never realized how embarrassing this description was?!

“H-Hey! That was a joke I did with my friends!” You ran towards him, trying to stop him from looking at anything else at your game’s account.

“A joke?! Alright then, bet.” He put a hand in front of your chest to hold your body in place, also grabbing on a wrist to make you watch him messing around with your computer.

With his other hand on your keyboard, he pressed Alt+Tab with his thumb and index, immediately landing at Google. You were thankfully not doing anything weird at the moment, after all, all he met on the screen was homework, but that didn’t seem to be what he was looking for.

“You named your AO3 tab ‘Calculator’?! Really?! That’s pathetic!” He pointed directly at the AO3 tab in your favorited pages until the tip of his finger was putting pressure on it, causing you to flush. “What else do we have here..? AO3, Wattpad, Tumblr… oh? I don’t recognize this one.” He clicked at the very last tab, which made you gasp in embarrassment.

“W-Wait, no! Don’t click on tha—!”

AzeruOfficial

The name immediately popped in big, orange letters as soon as his finger pressed on the left side of your mouse, causing him to explode in laugher.

“Azeru?! You listen to this guy’s ASMRs?! Oh, please, why did I even doubt this was the wrong address? The Nahida profile picture was enough to tell that you were a fan of mine. Do you think that’d bring you luck?” He finally rose from your chair and walked close to you while sitting for an answer.

But once again, you couldn’t answer. It would be really embarrassing to admit to your favorite fictional character that you were doing multiple mini rituals to attack more luck in your pulls.

“You know what, Y/N woman? I’ll tell you a secret… we, playable characters of gacha games actually have the powers to choose who wins and who loses 50/50. Nahida chose who won her 50/50s, Cyno chose who won his 50/50s… and I’m about to do the same now with all the desperate people that want me in their accounts, including you! But the thing is… you know how I am, don’t you? I’m gonna judge every little detail about the people who are wishing for me. That means you’re up to judged too! But… I’m gonna give you a personal chance to win my 50/50s… with a deal.” He rose his hands until they landed on your shoulders, massaging them slowly and got closer to your ear with a big smirk on his lips. “I’m gonna get rid of your sexual frustrations, and you’ll get rid of mine.” He initiated, immediately making your eyes widen again.

“WHAT—?!” You tried protesting, but he immediately moved a down to smack your mouth shut.

“We’re gonna have sex, and every orgasm either one of us have, we’ll do a ten-pull! That’ll happen until you finally get the luck of pulling a five-star, which will be around 7 or 8 rounds. There, I’ll be finally judging whether you should win me or not based on how well you satisfy me. If you fail to win the 50/50, then I’ll guess you’ll be owing me another 9 rounds with a total of 18 rounds…” His cheeks grew pink while he explained his idea, his smirk becoming more sadistic and horny within every second.

You pushed his hand away from your mouth while shaking your head side-to-side too in denial and still keeping your fingers around his worst to make sure he wasn’t going to make anything else to you or your home.

“No! You can’t just barge in my apartment, invade my privacy, and then ask me to have se with you?! I don’t care if you are the real Wanderer or not, this is too much for me!” You screamed at him, but it wasn’t enough for his confidence to die.

“Oh, Y/N, Y/N…” One of his hands moved to your face to hold and caress your cheek. “It’s obvious that you daydream about having sex with me, you’re no innocent woman. Nobody uses AO3 to read SFW shit or listens to Azeru for his SFW audios...” He shook his hand away from your grip and put it on his chest.

You watched his fingers teasingly rub his chest, making your fingers beg for them to be there, until they were at his shoulders, where he slowly pushed his white kimono away from his shoulder, revealing the black-transparent suit he wore under it in a way that made your stomach ache with butterflies.

“I’m the dick you want to proudly ride in that profile description, Y/N.” His forehead slowly leaned closer to yours until they were touching, causing your noses to touch each other next too, and finally… your lips were sealed together.

10 wishes:

Wanderer decided to begin his little game by making you do exactly what your description said: riding him. So, now he was sat lazily at your chair, legs spread, but still with most of his clothes on, while you were hopping up and down on his dick, naked, like you were addicted to it.

“Such a cute little fan… using all your strength to accomplish your sexual need of fucking your favorite fictional character…” Wanderer praised you while giggling in appreciation, deciding to move a hand to pinch your nipple playfully, causing you to scream in the spot.

“AAaaaaAHhh~! Fuck, Scara~!” You arched your back and scratched your nails on his shoulders to contain the pleasure he gave you with his touch.

He giggled again, and moved his other hand to your thigh, squeezing it while trying to also use it to pull you closer to him.

“Why are you arching away from me? You’re supposed to be be enjoying me! Come on…” His husky, dominant voice made you immediately push yourself at his direction until your head landed right between his neck and shoulders.

God, almighty.

Now you wouldn’t leave that position even if a teacher banged on your door with your test’s grades on their hands. Such an intimate position was making your pussy gush around his cock.

Your entire body was swirled with his, which meant that every part of your body touching a part of his body. Your legs spread apart, attempting to hug his waist, your arms moving to his back to feel and scratch his every cell, your mouth drooling on his skin…

You were like some true parasite.

“Oh, God! Oh, God!” The ecstasy of sex was numbing your mind into exactly what Wanderer wanted, a cock-hungry slut.

“Good girl… you’re doing really well…” His hand in your thigh rolled down until he was making contact with your ass, proceeding to tap one of the buttocks repeatedly. “You’re really fucking soaked, aren’t you? God, I’ve never heard a pussy doing such mushy noises…” He took advantage of how your head was positioned under him to whisper directly in your ear, making you shiver due to his teasing tone.

“It’s too much! Too much!” You whimpered pathetically, but Wanderer simply ignored and denied you and kept his hands where they were, refusing to help you in the slightest.

“Is my cock making you feel this good, hum?” He threw his head back in the chair, enjoying his peace in that position.

“Ah, yes! I can’t even… believe I’m actually fucking with you..!” Your arms moved upwards to hug his neck in pure need of more words coming out of his mouth.

“Worthless little whore… unwilling to fuck anyone in this enormous school to keep your pussy for a drawing you only see in your screen… I like the dedication, tho, don’t get me wrong~.” He unexpectedly slapped your buttock as an aggressive way to praise and degrade you.

Your walls clenched around him when he did that, causing a deep groan to echo in his throat.

“Oh-ho? Looks like I’m dealing with a masochist! I wonder how else you’re gonna impress me…” He teased you in the ear again.

“I think I’m gonna…” You couldn’t even finish a sentence due to the overstimulation, rubbing your face against his shoulder in worship for the man you were giving yourself to.

“You’re gonna cum? Own… what a cute little kitten… I wish I could help you with that…” He kept his body unmoved in pure laziness of helping you reach an orgasm, leaving you to do all the effort on your own.

You unfortunately needed to push yourself away from him to hop faster and preciser at his cock. Wanderer’s eyes glowed in joy miring at how your sexes were intertwined with each other like they were made for each other, specifically smirking at how his cock was glistened with your arousal.

Your hands instinctively rolled down until your fingers were threaded with his. Just like all the AO3 fanfictions described him to be, his whole body felt soft like pillows, but cold as ice, so his fingers were causing you to feel even more stimulated. You gripped them like you’d die if you ever let go, while he stared up and down at your bouncing body with a perverted smirk that only seemed to grow more and more. You couldn’t believe you were actually riding the cock of favorite fictional character. All you intended to do tonight was simply pulling for him and his weapon, but not plans have changed… for good.

And finally, the aching bulge growing in your womb had finally reached a peak of anticipation and blew all the way down to Wanderer’s cock, which you left perfectly placed at your g-spot, bullying it while your orgasm came down like an angry river. Your whole body trembled and shivered with the orgasm, saliva pooling your mouth.

“My, my…” Wanderer finally decided to move his body, and hooked his sandals in the floor to pull and roll the chair closer to the table where your computer was lying at. “Let’s see if that orgasm is worth an early pity to Hoyoverse…” He moved a hand to pat your head while the other moved to your mouse. “Look at it.” He fisted your hair right and angled it until at least one of your eyes could mire the screen.

The clicker was already resting at the ‘Ten Pull’ option, and he gave himself some seconds before clicking it.

✧ ✦ ✧

You sighed in broken expectation.

“Well… seems like we have some more rounds to go for, don’t we? Hey, at least you got a Faruzan! Perhaps she’s liking to see your determination in pleasing me… the man she was made for.”

20 Pulls:

You never thought you’d find yourself screaming so loud and shameless because of the precision of a man’s thrusts, especially because you knew there would be complaints about it tomorrow.

Shy, quiet, little Y/N being slammed against her own walls by an unreal man. Could it be any more pathetic?

“You seem to be really enjoying this, aren’t you? You even lost sense of your surroundings! You’re between hundreds of dorms, where everyone is quiet and asleep at this time, yet, you still keep screaming like a dog in heat because of the most basic pounding I could ever do to you.” Wanderer pulled your hair from behind using a hand, forcing you to arch your body even more than it already was, while the other one was being used to lock your wrists behind your back together.

Your hands were scratching the concrete walls you were being pushed against so deeply that you could swear you could break it at any moment.

“Or is that… you want people to know you’re being pounded like a whore in here..?” He giggled at that possibility sadistically, enjoying how fucked-out your face already was.

He suddenly pushed your head against the wall again.

“Let me test it, if you may…” His thrusts became faster, bullying your g-spot in a way that made your eyes roll up until you could see starts.

“Tell me, Y/N, are you enjoying being pounded like a fuck-toy by your favorite character, hum?” He leaned down so he could bite your ear while whispering inside it at such a teasing tone.

He grunted right after making it due to your pussy clenching around his cock once again.

“Aahhhh!! Yes! Yes, I am!” You confessed it shamelessly. It really didn’t matter if anyone could hear you screaming. You were usually a victim of these love-making noises, so, now it was your time to make those horny neighbors animals feel your pain.

“Fucking proud slut… Do you think your parents would like to know their daughter is fucking with a pixel?” He continued his degradation. “That their daughter is being used as a cock-sleeve for me while you won’t even get the opportunity to cum?” That line made your eyes widen in shock and slight fear, which made his smile grow in arousal.

“I… won’t..?” You could barely finish your sentence, but it wasn’t necessary for Wanderer, he could understand it all.

“Duh! I’m the one in control of everything in here! You’ll just accept everything that I give you, and I know you’ll enjoy every single second of it because it’s me who’s doing it! The 6th Fatui Harbinger… a puppet created by the almighty Electro Archon… a man who barely has any empathy in his heart…” He pushed the side of your head harder against the wall. “Now, hold your hat, missy! I’m about to cum and I don’t want you to waste a single drop of me, ok?” He talked to you in a sweet, ironic voice, trying to comfort you for the moment that was about to come, when the truth was that he was desperate to see you suffering.

But, finally, he stopped talking and degrading you to focus entirely on his cock bullying your cervix, ravishing your inside like a mush entirely for his pleasure.

Finally, Wanderer punched his cock shut against your cervix, beginning to blow all of his cum inside your womb. He didn’t dare let any of your body to move so you’d take every drop of him in. You screamed due to the slight burn in your womb that his orgasm caused that only fueled Wanderer’s pleasure while spasming.

“Good fucking girl…” He grunted with a deep voice while his dick still spilled thick ropes of cum inside you.

Finally, when it was over, he let your wrists and head go. You rested both parts against the wall, seeing how your wrists were now marked in red because of his gri on them.

He pulled out of you after a few seconds enjoying your warmth surrounding him so passionately. He couldn’t believe he was finding himself so addicted to the feeling of your puffy pussy, so a few butterflies kicked his stomach feeling how your flesh was swollen in arousal, and how its tone had turned into a light pink due to all the movement that has been happening to it.

“Come here, princess…” You felt his hands pull you backwards, quickly turning you over and lifting you up in the air, holding you princess-style while walking around the room.

He walked towards your computer again, your eyes meeting the wishing screen again.

“Go ahead…” He whispered in your ear, influencing one of your resting arms to immediately act in obedience.

Your trembling hand rested on top of the mouse, which was still landed on the 10-Pull button, and you clicked the left side of it.

✧ ✦ ✧

Wanderer giggled at the purple meteor shining at the screen, and even more when you managed to reach the top of the screen and click “Skip”, only to find out there wasn’t even a Faruzan.

“I’m very sorry for that…”

30 Pulls:

“Now, I wasn’t expecting you to accept such an inhumane treatment. When you find a real man to love and care for, are you willing to sell your dignity like this to him?” Wanderer asked while staring at your face like he wasn’t jacking off to you in the most embarrassing position you could ever find yourself in.

Wanderer had mysteriously pulled out two cuffs and a vibrator from nowhere. The cuffs were being used to lock your legs upside down, against your bed’s corner pillars, while he forced your hands to work on your nipples, pinching and squeezing them. While the vibrator was being used to fuck your pussy nonstop, with the extra tease of the vibrations. You didn’t even know your legs could be pulled away from their original position this much, but now, your pussy was entirely exposed to Wanderer with no obstacles, and with no chance of possibly containing that tortuous pleasure that was numbing your mind again.

“I… I..!” You couldn’t answer such an humiliating question.

“Of course you are. It’s written all over your pathetic face.” He suddenly leaned down closer to your face, simply to slap across your pussy hard, causing your legs to shiver, but the way the cuffs prohibited them from reacting too much, making loud metal noises, amused his eyes and ears. “Haha… you really enjoy this sort of treatment, don’t you? I might just take even more advantage of it as well…” You felt his fingers trace all the way down from your bellybutton to your clit, where he meanly pinched it using two fingers.

“NghAaaAHHHh?! Fuck, Wanderer, pleeeeasee!” You whimpered and screamed while a few forming tears glistened your exhausted eyes, and your hips and legs tried to contain the amount of overwhelming pleasure again.

Wanderer smiled like a maniac at the scene.

“What a lovely scene…” He looked down at your pussy, admiring the view of the vibrator thrusting you tortuously at a slow, medium force. “You know what? No need to torture your poor nipples anymore. Use your hands on my dick and worship me, you whore.” He grabbed your right wrist with his other hand and placed your hand right at his tip.

“I don’t know how to… do this…” You whimpered, begging for some mercy, but he simply sighed in boredom in response.

“How many times have you ever even slept with a man, huh? You never did a handjob your entire life?” He scoffed at you. But thankfully, he moved the same hand that was on your clit and placed it perfectly on top of it, and shaped it in a way that perfectly made your fingers hold his cock.

He started to stroke both your hands up and down, trying to guide you into the basic steps of it.

“This is mostly how to stroke a dick, now use your pretty mouth and praise me, bitch.” He guided you with a softer voice, a little merciful at your situation.

You sighed in relief when you felt clit relaxing from all the pain and overstimulation, which immediately called his attention.

“Oh, you think I’m being merciful?” He giggled at you, impeding you from even starting to think about a praise for him, and used his free hand to grab the vibrator’s controller again.

“Force: Maximum… Speed: Medium.” He repeated the adjusts he did to the vibrator according to how his thumb pushed the sliders of it.

Your head rolled backwards in agony of the vibrations being rougher inside you, reaching even deeper parts of your body at a faster pace. More tears rolled down at your face, and your grip tightened around his length instinctively.

“Hummmm… that’s it…” He licked his lips in satisfaction of what he was doing to you while running his other hand in your head playfully. “Keep jacking me off just like that until I cum again.” He took his hand away from yours, now leaving you without any sort of guidance.

But you kept going for it. Although your body was barely keeping up with the vibrator’s effects on you, your mind insisted on reaching both your and his orgasm like it was your only mission in your life, after all, it was your favorite character who you were fucking with.

“Faster, slut. I’m close.” He managed to step a little closer to you so you could stroke him faster, although his knees and legs were already being limited by your bed.

You swallowed all that pooled saliva in your mouth down, trying to stabilize yourself better and focus on achieving both your orgasms. Your clit was also slightly throbbing, slowly growing the amount and intensity of your soon-to-come orgasm.

Wanderer’s cock was slowly leaking pre-cum out of his tip, lubricating your fingers with the help of your own liquids that remained glistened around him. It facilitated your handjob, and it felt even better to Wanderer. To make his orgasm faster, you suddenly had the idea of letting most of your fingers go, only leaving your thumb and your index to do the stroking. You also made sure the size of the circle you did barely fit his length, making the experience slightly painful to him for squeezing him hard, but also suffocating his orgasm to come out as soon as possible. It’s like your fingers were tying to purposefully pump cum out of him.

“You freaking…” Wanderer’s degradations were fortunately being overshadowed by his own pleasure. “It looks like you’ll die without this…” He giggled at your pathetic face. “Don’t worry… it’s about to come. Are you cumming too?” His voice changed to a softer one again.

“Yes, yes! I am, I am!” You screamed in anticipation, enjoying the sensation of vibrator farming an orgasm from you just more and more, quicker than any dick you’ve ever taken.

“Own… that’s too bad.” He suddenly moved a hand down to the vibrator and ripped it away from your hole in a single move.

You screamed in agony feeling your womb ache in pain from the torture of being unfulfilled, trying to reach anything to cum. You desperately tried to reach a hand to your clit, but Wanderer immediately reacted and held it in place with a hand before you could reach it.

“Nuh-uh…” That was the last thing you heard from him before a sudden load of cum started spasming all over your face and chest while Wanderer giggled and moaned in appreciation and fulfilled pleasure.

Even if you were mad for not being allowed to cum, your hand couldn’t help but keep doing its job, even when he was already cumming, or if he had denied you so meanly.

“You look beautiful with cum thrown all around your face like a porn star…” He fisted his length and aimed it better on your face, just to make sure no drop would be thrown in the sheets or pillow. “Pathetic.” His eyebrows frowned, trying to focus his eyes entirely on you. “Are you enjoying having your favorite character cumming around you like some worthless cock-sleeve, hum?” He slapped your hands away from his length and proceeded to guard his dick back to his pants again and begun walking away from you, no matter how needy you were.

Your eyes followed his figure, meeting him leaning down at your table and messing with your computer again.

“I guess I do…” You answered him question.

“Pft… you weren’t actually supposed to answer it, but I’m glad you love me this much. Let’s see if Hoyoverse recognizes your love for me, tho!” He moved to a farther corner, allowing your eyes to mire the screen better as he clicked in the same 10-Pull button.

✧ ✦ ✧

“Tsk, tsk, tsk…” Wanderer crossed his arms and clicked the ‘Skip’ button at the top-corner of your screen before the wishing animation was even done. “Hey, at least Faruzan is watching us! She says you’re deserving of me.” He suddenly turned to you to make that comment.

“Faruzan is… what..?” Your eyes widened a little.

“She can watch us! Gorou and Yanfei can watch us too, actually. Want to say ‘hi’ to her?” He begun walking closer to you again.

“N-No..?!” You immediately nodded your head side-to-side, trying to somehow turn your body away from him, if their perspective came from his eyes.

“Ok, ok! Chill…”

40 Pulls:

“I think I should begin doing to every fan I visit, you know? God, my dick is fucking pulsating because of this shit.” Wanderer said between many deep grunts, arching his head all the way up to the roof while he rolled his feet in the floor.

He was now making you suck his cock while he peacefully sat on your chair, and you were knelt down, still with all that cum spat around your face and the vibrator shoved down at your pussy but in a lower setting. He also made sure to cuff your wrists together behind your back to make sure you had no control over your own pleasure, and just focused on him, no matter how bad the torture was affecting you.

“Sucking me so well… You’re a natural one, aren’t you? You’re just a little smarter for not selling yourself as the whore that you are. But honestly, what could be better than a slutty nerd for a straight man?” Wanderer patted your head with delight, but at the same time still pushing and pulling it up and down on his cock, making you do your job exactly how he likes it.

You were struggling to not choke or gag on his cock, but it was hard, especially when he was looking forward to push all of himself inside you. Luckily, he was being more merciful, for some reason, and you wouldn’t say ‘no’ to it, especially when you believed he would deny your orgasm again.

“This is getting a little boring… should I torture your poor pussy a little bit more..?” He suddenly used the same hand that patted you to pull your hair back, forcing you to do eye-contact with him. “Poor you… can’t even say a word to my question… I guess I’ll just guess that you’d like to say ‘yes’ because you’re a horny slut who’s love to be sucking my cock.” He moved his other hand and grabbed in the controller that was resting in the arm-rest.

When he officially slid the ‘Speed’ option to the right, meaning it has increased, you couldn’t help but open your jaw even wider to let a scream out in satisfaction, but it led you to gag on him right after.

“Good girl… not even daring to pull your mouth away from my cock even if it’s making it harder for you to breathe...” Instead of typically patting your head in praise, he tapped your right cheek with his palm a couple of times, with a strength that made your skin slightly sting, but not enough to make you complain about it. “I might even let you cum…” He angled his head, trying to admire the view of he had of your wet lips wrapping around him, cleaning the stains that were left by you previously, while also trying to act like he was feeling bad for your situation.

Deep down, Wanderer didn’t really care. As long as he got to fill your mouth with his cum and to watch you quiver because of it, he would edge you and fuck you however he liked.

“Prepared, my little proud fan?” His grip in your hair tightened as he stared deep down at your exhausted eyes.

You nodded and tried to relax your jaw for him to fuck your mouth as he desired. It was hurting, anyway, so it felt good to have a reason to do it without being degraded for it.

Wanderer stood up when he felt your teeth piercing his cock with less strength, knowing that would be the perfect position and occasion for him to fuck your throat.

He started thrusting you, and his hips immediately begun crashing against yours erratically, causing a few drops of saliva to gush from your mouth due to how overworked you were. You still could muffle a few moans from the stimulus in your clit and accept his dominance, which Wanderer deeply appreciated, while he allowed his head to angle in direction of the roof, and his own grunts and moans fill the room shamelessly.

“Don’t fucking swallow everything immediately, you hear me?” He took out some of his frustration on you, and you nodded to his order immediately.

With no sort of warning, Wanderer suddenly pushed and locked his entire length shoved down your throat, reaching the deepest he could, which caused you immediately gag. It was even harder now that he was also spilling thick ropes of cum around that overwhelmed your mouth so much, but you couldn’t get rid of them, or else your pussy was going to be a victim of lots of torture.

Wan while he orgasmed, Wanderer pulled and pushed his cock in and out a few times to make sure every corner of your velvety mouth had a little bit of him while he smirked at the roof in ecstasy.

After a final thrust and blow of cum, he pulled out, causing a ‘pop’ sound to come out from your moth, and a few saliva strings to connect your lips to his cock. He leaned his head down to you again and pulled your head upwards to meet his eyes. Luckily, your jaw had been so abused that it remained dropped even when he pulled out, meaning that he wouldn’t need to order you to open it and show the mess he had done in there.

“I hin I onna—” You tried warning him about your coming orgasm, trying your best to not close your lips together, but Wanderer didn’t seem to care, only focusing his eyes in your fucked-out mouth.

“Shh, shh, shh.” He kneeled down in front of you and used a hand to hold you by your cheeks, forcing your mouth locked open while he inspected it.

Wanderer couldn’t help but giggle at the mess he did on you, 100% satisfied with his own work.

“Pathetic fucking slut…” For some reason, Wanderer let go of your jaw for a quick moment just give your left cheek a quick smack with his palm, but before your head could recoil, he hooked your cheeks again back to their place. “Don’t you dare cum without my permission, whore. Now, swallow.” You slowly closed your mouth and sucked all the cum and saliva that pooled in the meantime down to your tongue, and you finally pushed it all in, trying to make it as visible as possible to him.

Wanderer licked his lips when he watched that bulge of cum run down your throat.

“Good girl.” He finally rose his knees up again, beginning to walk towards the computer.

Your toes curled while you tried your best to contain your coming orgasm, but your position really wasn’t on favor of that. But you insisted on that, anyway.

Wanderer held your mouse and turned back to stare at you while he pulled in his own banner. It was lovely for him to watch you worming in the floor while being edged by both a vibrator and a screen.

“Aaaaannnd…” He clicked the mouse gently.

✧ ✦ ✧

“My, my… today is not really your day, is it?”

“Scara, I can’t hold it anymore!” You whimpered for his mercy, your head curling down until your forehead was rubbing against the floor.

“Tch… can’t even get a grip of yourself.” He pulled out the controller from his shorts and slid both options of it to the left, setting both the force and speed to zero.

You couldn’t help but tear down a little bit, feeling that precious peak of pleasure flow away from your womb, while you could hear Wanderer hum a giggle in his throat in pure sadistic arousal of denying you.

50 Pulls:

Finally, your pussy wasn’t being degraded or neglected anymore.

“Holy shit, Scara! You’re gonna break me!” Your back arched against the bed, your head restless in the pillow, and your hands trying their best to push Wanderer’s tongue against your swollen clit.

“Was that supposed to be a bad thing?” His eyes angled up to meet yours, trying to contain a giggle to focus on licking your clit.

Wanderer was the one giving you a blowjob now. His mouth doing wonders in your clit and his middle and index fingers thrusting your swollen pussy in a quick, tortuous pace.

“Please, slow down!” You whimpered loudly but neither his tongue or fingers obliged to your pleas.

“Why?” He initiated, but paused to make sure your clit’s stimulation would not die. “I thought you wanted an orgasm…” His tongue’s tip immediately begun circling your clit to every limit it could reach, causing your thighs to tremble and hug his head tighter against their fluffiness while your mouth screamed high-pitch. “Fuck, your thighs are so soft… How come I haven’t messed with them yet?” You saw his other free arm circling your entire thigh, using his fingers to caress and squeeze it as he wished. “Fuck…” Wanderer moaned.

Before you could enjoy too much of his soft fingers in your thighs, Wanderer suddenly pulled a move that you weren’t expecting to happen. You felt him pull out his middle finger from you but keep his index finger, curling it upward and beginning to rub the tip of finger at your g-spot.

The scream that came out of your throat was feral. You had no idea such level of pleasure was even possible at the first place.

“Here it is…” You heard him groan like a hungry predator when he saw how you reacted to that, and proceeded to keep bullying that spot.

And of course, as soon as he stopped talking, he immediately placed his tongue back to your clit, teasing the most sensitive spots in your body mercilessly, chasing that orgasm like his life depended on it too.

Your hands were threading in the deepest roots of his indigo hair and you were sure you’d have a sore throat the next morning. Loud moans just couldn’t stop escaping your pretty lips, all of them reaching Wanderer’s ears like music. He was loving every second of that round of sex, especially being squeezed by your thighs.

“Oh my God!” You couldn’t hold it back when he started sucking your clit again, and your chest rose upwards in a blink, now sitting on the bed.

It gave you more power, and you definitely used the advantage to try grinding your pussy against his head harder.

“I’m close! I’m so close! Please don’t edge me again! Please, please, please!” You tried your best to lock your thighs around him with a strength that he wouldn’t manage to get rid off, but Wanderer didn’t feel slightly threatened by it.

He was going to make sure you orgasmed a river of cum around him. After all, it would be natural of you to cum hard due to all the edging he had done to you.

“Tease your nipples. It’ll help.” He ordered with a more serious tone, truly focusing his mouth and fingers into their objective.

A hand of yours slid upwards and begun touching your breasts exactly how you like it. The other hand obviously remained at the back of his head. Wanderer grunted in pleasure with the newest view he had of you sitting above of him, his bricked dick pushing his pants to get out of them, aching and trembling in need to get inside a hole as soon as possible.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You curled your body when the heat from pinching your nipples and squeezing your breasts started fueling the pleasure your clit felt.

It really didn’t take seconds until that building climax of yours was finally released by your womb, freeing your pussy from all that previous edging. You threw your body back at the bed, spasming in the sheets, but your hand kept pushing his head against your flesh forcefully, trying to make him take in every single string of cum of that heavy orgasm. Wanderer decided to oblige to you and your personal wish of cumming inside his mouth and moved his mouth down to your hole and pushed his tongue in, while pulling out his finger out of you.

Just like you previously did, Wanderer kept his mouth ready and open to receive every drop of cum that ran down to your tongue. Thankfully, you tasted bitter, which is his favorite kind of flavor, so he really didn’t mind the enormous loads of cum that ran down, licking and swallowing them all like a meal. His hands kept caressing your thighs, trying to keep stimulating you and your body to explode all that cum in your womb down his mouth and liberate some storage for the next rounds.

Your whole body melted down as soon as it was over, and Wanderer finally rose his head up again.

“You have a wonderful taste, dear.” He praised while swallowing the final drops of cum that hadn’t gone down to his throat yet.

Wanderer proceeded to get out of the bed, and once again walk to the computer like he hasn’t just fucked your brains out.

While whistling a melody, he clicked the ‘10-Pull’ button another time.

✧ ✦ ✧

“Still nothing… what pity are you on right now? I forgot to check that before beginning pulling.” He turned his head to you, staring at you aloof.

“I think… I think I was at 10 pulls before…” You mumbled an answer while you regained some consciousness. Having such a heavy orgasm had really exhausted your brain at the moment.

“Then we have approximately two rounds left if I believe you deserve to win your 50/50.” He begun walking to you again with a smirk already growing in his lips and his hand undoing his pants another time.

60 Pulls:

“Such a fucking receptive pussy you have..!” He grunted while trying his best to cage his moans in the back of his throat, his voice sounding husky and exhausted.

You left him really hungry when he decided to be nice to you and suck your pussy dry. When he was fingering your g-spot, all that ran in his mind was the imagery of his cock doing that to you instead, so that’s exactly what he decided to do. Fuck you in a mating press.

Down at your cervix, the tip of cock punched the depths of your pussy nonstop, his words suddenly becoming hungrier and greedier for you. It didn’t surprise you that Wanderer had a slight kink in breeding and just rough sex over all.

“You’re gonna take every drop of me inside again, okay? I bet it’d make you happy to be fucking pregnant with my babies, wouldn’t it, you fucking whore?” He endlessly pounded your g-spot, talking and acting like he wasn’t panting and sweating like a nasty dog.

Wanderer chuckled miring down at your fucked-out face, panting and drooling with his forceful thrusts, but still doing his best to not slow down.

“Such a cute little doll…” He praised you, but his tone made it sound more like a degradation. “Nahida was right when she let you win her 50/50… You were a dedicated fan to this game… and to me.” He giggled as he thought of all those little efforts you were doing to ‘attract luck’ for your wishes on him.

Wanderer’s hands, who were busy pressing your legs against the sheet, tightened around them, slightly scratching your skin. It caused you to hiss and look away from him, which he seemed to immediately repel.

“No, no, dear… keep your pretty eyes on me.” You decided to comply to his sweet, serious tone, but his indigo eyes, glistening and shining in arousal, were applying a lot of pressure on you and your performance, causing your cheeks to flush and your eyes to flick away from his a few times. “Now you’re embarrassed, hum? No need to be, dear… don’t you think I’ve seen it all already? All your intimacy? All the times this pretty pussy of yours clenched around me because of the most inhumane treatment, hum?” Wanderer approached his face to yours, your foreheads and noses rubbing against each other.

You swallowed some saliva down, trying to somehow gather courage to stare at his eyes in agreement with his words. It worked, but if you could turn your face away for the rest of it, you definitely would. You couldn’t believe Wanderer was that incited and determined to make you stare at him while having sex. Did he really find you sexy in this state? Pretty? Or hot? You couldn’t help but be embarrassed.

It didn’t matter. Something else was teasing you and taking your attention away at the moment. Your lips would sometimes touch his by accident every time he smacked his hips down against yours. It was making you go insane. You really wanted to kiss him and learn how does Wanderer from Genshin Impact kiss, but you had no idea if he’d accept it or if this was a good moment for it… Even if you couldn’t decide whether you did or did not go for it, your lips couldn’t help but grind against his every time they touched, and he obviously noticed.

“You want to kiss me, hum? I can see you trying to reach me every time we touch… Unfortunately I only do favors for people if they ask me very kindly, using the magic words… or making them beg for it…” He looked at you with shining eyes, already creating big expectations.

“Please, please, please..! Let me kiss you! At least once! Just once!” You whined while directly staring at his eyes like he desires, which was making him extremely passionate about you, his balls burning and yearning for more of that eager submission of yours.

“Good fucking girl…” His voice was hoarse and husky with how overwhelmingly good you were making him feel.

It was making him obsessed with the idea chasing a double orgasm.

“Are you close?” He asked while intensifying his pace.

“Yes… please let me cum this time with you!” You begged to him, which made his smirk grow in arousal.

“You want to cum with me, hum?” He looked forward to make you say even more pathetic things.

“Please..!” You whimpered while his cock poked your g-spots and wet slap noises from your hips surrounded the room.

“You know what? I’m gonna let you do that just because I want to make sure every little sperm of mine swims to your fucking womb.” The way his eyes widened and stared at the deepest corners of yours seemed to aroused your pussy even more. “Are you ready?”

“Yes!” You screamed while feeling your womb build just more and more anticipation.

And with a final pump of his cock, the both of your cores started spasming cum another time. You and him were grunting and scratching each other as if you were both going to pass out. Obviously Wanderer tried to maintain his posture to pose as this unbeatable, untouchable man to you, but you knew those thick loads of cum being ejaculated on you were all proof that he was loving every single second of those rounds of animalistic sex. And you simply let yourself tremble and worm under him, knowing it was something lovely to him.

When you two were finally done spilling cum at each other, Wanderer finally looked down at where you two were connected and begun pulling his dick out very slowly. He admired watching his cock making such wet, slimy noises due to its contact with your pussy, even if he was moving the slowest pace ever, revealing itself to be all creamy and lubricated the more he pulled out.

“Let’s see if this is finally it…” Wanderer stroked his cock a few times knelt down in your bed before jumping out of it to excitedly walk to your computer another time.

Click.

✧ ✦ ✧

“What a shame…” He punctuated every syllable of his sentence, trying to make it as obvious as possible that he was actually happy about the fact that you didn’t get any Five-Star pull yet. “At least you got two Faruzan copies for two orgasms…” He giggled at the final results of the pull.

70 Pulls:

Wanderer was genuinely more thoughtful and caring in this round, especially because the both of you believed it would be the last one. He decided to service your eyes and finally become entirely naked. It wasn’t anything jaw-dropping, but you did like the few Anemo-colored tattoos he had around his body, especially the one behind his neck, symbolizing his true identity.

You two were back to the bed again, but this time he was thrusting you sideways, while you simply laid down and tried to reach your hands in his body and feel his soft skin.

“You know…” Since he was fucking you nice and slow this time, you could finally have proper conversations with him. “What the heck did you mean with ‘Kabukimono and the Balladeer will cease to exist.’ in the trailer? Does that have anything to do with your redesign and your new name? It doesn’t look 100% good in my opinion, but what can I do about it..? I wish Hoyo had given you a better design…” Wanderer scoffed at that last sentence.

“As soon as you play the new mission, you’ll find it why, and you’ll regret those words a lot. Do you even have any idea of why I became a Harbinger in the first place? ” He whispered right at your ear while one of his hands squeezed a breast of yours gently.

His mouth was softly biting your neck, trying to get a taste of your skin with it and his hands too. His whole body was trying its best to wrap and feel yours, showing a romantic side you’d never expect from him.

You wondered if he ever made his way under another character’s pants… or other fans…

You hated that possibility. You were enjoying this intimate moment with him and daydreaming with the possibility of him being yours and yours only.

“No idea, Scara…” You tried rolling your body in his direction, trying to be closer to him.

“I won’t give you any spoilers…” Wanderer didn’t do anything about your need for his affection and closure, tho.

Perhaps it was still fun for him to deny you even in moments where kinks weren’t involved.

“You feel so good…” You decided to praise him, a hand of yours raising to caress his head while he sucked your neck like a vampire.

“You feel great too.” He pressed many smooches at your cheek and neck while you two shared compliments. “It even has me praying for you to not get a five star in the next pulls… Perhaps I can also make you lose 50/50 purposefully just to keep my dick in this pussy of yours for a little longer.” His voice has husky, moaning and grunting at how your gushy pussy was making a mess of him down there.

Wanderer gave a few glances down at your connected crotches, admiring your curves in the way, but wanting to admire the lovemaking scenario down there. Your gummy walls letting him slide in and out so easily, gushing some liquids all the way down to his balls due to the overstimulation, your sweaty skin rubbing against his... And now his hands were 100% addicted to your thighs. Even if he needed to occupy a hand to hold one of your legs up, he took the opportunity to play with them too, brushing the tips of all his fingers up and down your skin.

It was so stimulating to have him teasing so many parts of your body at the same time, you couldn’t help but begin whimpering again, desiring for more.

“Faster! Please!” Your desperate immediately made Wanderer react to it.

It felt like his dick naturally started going faster just for the sake of hearing you whine his name and desperate orders while his balls became heavier in weight.

“You’re gonna cum already, hum?” Wanderer chuckled in your ear, gently biting its lobe afterwards jokingly.

“Y-Yes! I can feel it coming soon!” Your hand desperately tried to reach his hips, trying to somehow make them go faster.

“Me too, dear… So, make sure to cum it all around me, ok? The same way I’ll be cumming it all around you too.” Wanderer suddenly jumped from his spot and pushed your shoulder until your back was turned to him, thrusting you from behind now while your face drowned in the pillow.

You weakly nodded, your hands gripping on the sheets for dear life as Wanderer’s pace increased erratically. You obviously took the opportunity to increase the volume of your pretty moans.

Seeing your body so arched for him was a view he’d love to watch for hours, especially since it helped his thrusts becoming more precise against your sensitive spots. He spent this whole finale staring at the wet mess you were making of his cock once again, enjoying it as if you were praising him with your voice.

No matter how repetitive they were, once again, your orgasm was breathtaking. Although you enjoyed the idea of being degraded by a man you adore so much, being loved and praised by him felt even better. It explained why it really didn’t take long for you to cum again. Meanwhile you trembled and screamed against the pillow, Wanderer kept thrusting you in that same tortuous pace since he hadn’t reached his own climax yet. At least he deeply enjoyed watching you taking all of him inside even if you were busy being so overwhelmed by your own body wasting all that peaked pleasure. He could now see a few ropes of your cum splashed around his length, truly making your already gummy walls a true mush for him to abuse.

“Good girl… I’m close…” He warned you with a husky groan, and you couldn’t help but try spreading your legs and arching your back even further for him, in arousal of hearing his noises and feeling his cock punching your insides accompanied by wet, splashy noises coming his hips crashing yours.

In a few seconds, Wanderer finally started orgasming too. While squeezing your fluffy buttocks, his tip trembled and ached while pumping his pleasure out of itself. Your body took him all in like it has already been accustomed with it. It didn’t really hurt, and it felt to feel him claiming the deepest parts of your insides all to himself.

Wanderer giggled.

“Did you enjoy this? Taking my semen inside your pretty cunt?” Wanderer leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I… I did.” At this point, you were too cock-drunk to care if anyone would hear your pathetic self-degradation, your stupid screams or if your roommate would arrive home with such a pornographic scene happening.

You were happy that you had so many rounds of sex with your favorite character of your entire life.

“Good! You know your place!” The irony in his tone while his hand roamed around your body made you giggle.

You felt his hands stop at your shoulders, pulling you up from behind. After a few other tricks, he had on his arms, carrying you around princess-style once again.

“Go on. You do it.” He said as he walked close enough to your computer’s screen and sat himself on your chair, still with you on top of his naked lap. “I’m tired. Even if you don’t get a Five Star right now, I have no gas anymore anyway…” He arched his head against your chair’s pillow while waiting for you to finally reach ‘pity’.

Your shaking fingers reached your mouse.

You accidentally shook it away from the button you couldn’t wait to click, making you shake you head and focus, trying to act less lazily, desperately desiring to see what would be the results of all your efforts.

Click.

Your eyes widened.

“Oh-ho?” Wanderer’s attention was brought back to the screen seeing the golden sparkle shining around it.

Your hand froze in place as the first result of your pulls popped with a flash in your screen.

A 3-Star weapon.

You didn’t bother reading its name.

You slowly clicked the screen one-by-one, waiting for every animation of every weapon to load before advancing.

In the final clicks, finally, the big, golden, splash art finally popped.

It was him.

“Congratulations.” Wanderer giggled, tapping and patting the top of your head as if he hadn’t just controlled that.

“You…” You couldn’t even express all that joy you had been stocking for this moment. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” You couldn’t help but hug his neck passionately, which made his a smirk did and become grumpy expression instead.

That was it!

Your objective in the game was finally over!

Wanderer was yours!

“Ok, ok… no need to keep throwing yourself on me!” He rose his hands upwards, trying to avoid touching you while you simply rubbed yourself against him in pure joy of finally achieving your main mission in the game.

“I’m so happy!! Thank you so, so, so, so, so much!” You immediately let him go when he asked for it, and you threw yourself in the table, beginning to print the screen in front of you.

“I would do Weapon Banner round too, but unfortunately…” He paused for a beat. “It’s time to wake up.”

“What?” You expressed your confusion, taking a glance back at him.

“Y/N? Hello?” Those words didn’t match his previous ones, which just made you even more confused. You didn’t recognize that tone on him… but in someone else.

In a blink, all that world disappeared, and your body teleported from Wanderer’s lap to your bed again.

“Oh, God! I thought you were dead!” Your roommate made a ‘phew’ noise when she finally saw your eyes awaken at her perspective.

“W-Wh…” You rose your chest and looked around.

“Weird dream again?” She asked, leaning away from the bed to let you get up.

It was all… a dream..?

“Y-Yeah…” You awkwardly jumped out from your bed, immediately walked to your table, seeing your current main character idling probably for the twentieth time.

The Wish button had a red exclamation mark on it.

The Character button had no exclamation mark on it.

You clicked on it.

Wanderer’s banner was there, and it’s been 2 hours since he arrived in the game according to the timer.

Oh.

It was really all a dream?! All that pleasure and romance was just your brain helping you relieve your sexual needs?! Your romantic fantasies?! Well… you couldn’t deny you were a little thankful for it. The scenario you just lived was something many of his fans would kill for.

Before you could even think about actually pulling for him now, an e-mail notification in the game popped right at center-top of the screen with a little notification sound accompanied, contrasting the screen’s light blue background with its gray tone.

You pressed the ‘Esc’ key in your keyboard twice and quickly reached the e-mail option at the left bottom-corner of the screen. At least you’d get some gems for—

Wait…

What is this e-mail?

It doesn’t have a gem icon, or any item at all. It was just… a message? Coming from… ‘You Know Who’..?

You swallowed saliva while clicking the e-mail.

From: You Know Who

Good luck on the Weapon Banner, and good luck with the new mission too. ;)

(I seriously recommend you have a handkerchief while doing it.)

Taglist: @hitomisuzuya @kindofshyent @shyentsfoundherink @amoyanderes @the-stinky-winky @goofy-ego @bigmantiddys @alatusorrow @luminieee

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it <3

727 notes · View notes

thelostconsultant · 6 months ago

Text

Wanna be my part-time cat?

pairing: Max Verstappen x shifter!reader

summary: You can turn into a cat and spent a really nice day as one in Monaco. Until some maniac picked you up and took you home, that is.

part two

It wasn't your fault. No, really, it wasn't. You were minding your own business, wandering around the streets of Monaco as a cat, occasionally begging for pets, and enjoying the view from the side of the road, watching as luxury cars kept passing by. It was a good day. Relaxing.

But then this idiot appeared, for some reason assuming you were planning to jump in front of a car, and he didn't hesitate to pick you up. “You shouldn't be hanging out here, it's dangerous,” he cooed as he scratched your ear.

It was nice, all right, but being held without waiting for you to decide whether or not you wanted it was too much. You tried to twist your body to escape, but he only adjusted his grip to keep you there in his arms. You watched him with your ears pushed back, but he only smiled.

“You don't have a collar. Who would let such a beautiful ragdoll out without one? You must be a stray,” he added, clearly thinking about something that you had a feeling you wouldn’t like. “All right, you're coming with me. I'm sure you'll get along with my cats.”

He carried you to his car and gently put you on the passenger seat, and even as he drove, he kept glancing over at you with that stupid smile on his face. When he reached out to touch you, you hissed at him and backed away, hoping this would make him understand that you didn't want to be there.

He kept talking to you in a hushed tone to calm you down, as if you were a little kid, and it became a lot more effective when you didn't hear the engine of his car running in the background anymore. You became sleepy and couldn't hold back a yawn, but that only made him chuckle before grabbing you and taking you up to his home.

“You'll stay in my bedroom for a while, just until the others get used to having you around,” he explained over the meowing of his other cats. “It's okay, you'll get to know her, don't freak out,” he then told the other two.

All you could do was play along for now. It was Saturday afternoon, you only had to work on Monday, so hopefully you'd get the chance to sneak out before that. Once he put you on his bed, he sat down and waited for you to make the first move. You didn't want to do that, so you just kept staring at him, hoping he would get the message and leave you alone.

He didn't. Well, he did leave for a few minutes at the time, but he always returned before you could do anything about your situation. Late at night he put his handheld console aside and lay down in bed, patting the mattress next to him in an attempt to convince you to move over to him.

But you didn't move, you simply sat there in the armchair next to the bed and watched him with a judging look in your blue eyes. He looked over at you every now and then, but eventually he let out a long sigh and said, “Please, stop staring at me like that.”

For a short while you kept watching him, but then you let it go and curled up to sleep. Sometime in the middle of the night you jumped over to the bed and took a closer look at him. He was familiar, but you couldn't remember where you had met him. Either way, he smelled good. And he was warm. And there was a little empty space on the left side of the bed next to him that was the perfect size for you.

Though you felt the bed shift in the morning, you were too lazy to open your eyes. If he wanted to leave, he could, it was his place, and right now you were way too comfortable to care. But when you realized he had been away for a little too long compared to the day before, you decided to move closer to the door to eavesdrop.

No sounds were coming from outside. Maybe he left. Maybe this was your chance to get away. Knowing opening doors and dealing with locks would be a little difficult as a cat, you shifted back into your human form. Before you went anywhere, you decided to raid his walk-in closet and look for something to wear.

You weren't a big sports fan, but thanks to a friend who was a die-hard Red Bull Racing fan, you recognized their merch right away. Why did he have multiple t-shirts? You rolled your eyes, but still decided to steal one of those–at least you could hand it over to your friend–before moving on to find some shorts or sweatpants.

The biggest obstacle turned out to be waiting right outside the bedroom door; his other cats. When you opened it to leave the room, they immediately raced there and kept hissing at you, convincing you that maybe you shouldn't force leaving on your own. You didn't want to reveal your secret, but those damn idiots didn't give you another choice.

So you lay down on the bed and waited for the man of the house to return. Your sense of smell was weaker as a human, but you still recognized that familiar musky scent of his that was all over the pillow. It was surprisingly nice, you could've slept pretty well here if you were about to let that happen.

Another two hours passed before you finally heard the front door close, and you sat on the edge of the bed to wait for him. A very small, but very loud part of you couldn't wait to see him again. You tried to shut it up, you tried to remind yourself that he quite literally kidnapped you, but this little voice kept telling you that he thought you were just a normal cat.

“What the hell are you doing in my bedroom? And why are you in my clothes?” you heard his annoyed voice the moment he entered the room.

He wasn't freaked out, if anything, he was annoyed. Did it happen often? Did random women show up in his home every now and then? Rolling your eyes, you shrugged then pointed a finger at him.

“You were the one who locked me up here,” you told him.

The man took a threatening step forward, his phone already in his hand. “I most definitely didn't. And where's my cat?” he asked as he looked around to see if you were hiding somewhere.

With a sigh, you stood up and walked over to him. “Right in front of you. And by the way, I wasn't planning to jump in front of those cars, I was perfectly happy where I was. Oh, and I was staring at you from the armchair because I didn't trust you,” you informed him with a cheeky grin.

It took him a few seconds to comprehend your words. At first he didn't seem to believe you, but then he gulped and nodded. “Okay, let's say I believe you. How?” he asked with his hands on his hips.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“I won't tell you. I can't.”

Letting out a frustrated groan, he gently grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled you closer. “So you're telling me that I found a gorgeous cat that I can't keep?” You nodded, although this close proximity put some strange ideas in your head that you tried to push aside for now. “Too bad, I slept so well once you curled up next to me.”

You tilted your head to the side as you watched him. Was he flirting with you? Well, he sure wasn't wasting his time. “I don't even know who you are,” you informed him.

He looked genuinely surprised. “You don't?” You shook your head in response. “I'm Max. Three-time Formula 1 world champion, but who's counting,” he added with a laugh. Realization probably became visible on your face, because his smile grew even wider. “So you've heard about me.”

Nodding, you tried to look anywhere but into those stupid blue eyes. “My friend's a big fan.”

“Then keep the shirt. Not everyone has one of these. And it also looks good on you,” he added, making you clear your throat. It wasn't good, he knew perfectly well how to get under your skin. “But seriously, I want my cat back.”

“I have a life with responsibilities, I can't be a full-time cat,” you told him with a laugh.

“Then be my part-time cat. Do whatever you want during the day, then come here and be my cat for the night,” he suggested.

You looked at the door over his shoulder where you saw a glimpse of one of the cats. “Your other cats hate me. I couldn't even leave your bedroom,” you said with a pout.

Max turned back to look at the criminals in question. “It'll be fine,” he said when he turned back to you.

But you didn't look convinced, and your words confirmed that when you pushed his hands away and took a step back from him. “I should go. I'll get your clothes cleaned and return them as soon as I can,” you promised.

“No need. But think about my offer.” You nodded, then pointed at the door as you took a hesitant step towards it. “Right, the cats. Come with me, they'll leave you alone if I'm there.”

He took your hand on the way to the front door, and it was getting harder and harder to convince yourself it was bad. Because it wasn't. It was nice. And you couldn't deny that last night you slept pretty well next to him. It was comfortable. Being near him was comfortable.

Fuck.

You were actually beginning to consider his offer.

#i'm sorry #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

1K notes · View notes

cherryredcheol · 7 months ago

Text

"baby"

tldr: all the way seungcheol uses your nickname a/n: this has been written and waiting to be posted forEVER but i'm finally ready (i am down horrific for this man)

seungcheol x reader fluff wc: 1k

reprimands: to make sure you know he's yours

“baby.” his tone is firm, controlling. he thought it would be a good idea to invite you to his shoot today, thinking you'd like to see him in the expensive clothes he was always put in for cover shoots. what he didn’t account for was you pouting over the friendly makeup artist assigned to him for the day.

“don’t pout. you know i only have eyes for you.” he was trying to reason with you but his patience was wearing thin. you were being difficult on purpose and he couldn’t really do anything about it given the need to protect his image and act as professional as possible. you just huffed, frown settling deeper on your face.

“you’re being a little unreasonable,” based on the look you gave him that was the completely wrong thing to say to you. he turned when he heard them call for him from set. it was time to shine. he walked over to where you sat, bending down to meet your eyes, “if you’re good for the rest of the day i’ll reward you when we get home, baby.”

whines: when he doesn’t have your attention

“baby,” he could hear the pathetic tone in his voice but he just couldn’t help it. he’d had a long day of meetings and listening to presentations, the only thing keeping him going was knowing that you would be waiting at home for him when it was all over. you’d look at him with your soft eyes and dote on him all weekend, just how he liked. now here he was, waiting to be coddled and you were too busy giggling at your phone to spare him a glance.

“what could be so entertaining on the phone that you can’t spend time with me?” he was laying it on thick but he was desperate at this point, especially when his question was only answered by another tittering laugh that was still not directed at him. at this point, he was fed up. he craned his neck to see what had you all giggly.

“oh my god. you’re kidding me!” he couldn’t believe his eyes. playing on your phone was an edit of him from the most recent gose episode. the clip wasn’t even his best moment in the episode, but he did look quite handsome that day so he can’t blame you for watching. he still really wanted to be fussed over, “seriously, put your phone down. i’m much cuter in person, baby.”

cat-calls: as you walk by in his favorite dress

“baby!” he called out to you, dragging out the ‘y’ sound. you paused, stopping in the middle of the bedroom as you crossed from the closet to the ensuite bathroom. he was seated on the bed, tying his shoelaces when he caught sight of you in the soft pink sundress he loved so much. you looked at him with big, curious eyes, wondering why he had stopped you in the middle of getting ready for your date in the park.

“spin for me.” he got up from the bed and reached for your hand. he held it up, above your head and twirled you in a circle, eyes taking in every inch of you. he was excited to have a picnic with you but now he was considering scrapping the whole thing to stay behind. seeing you in a sundress always did something to him.

“you’re so beautiful,” he was full of compliments, making sure you knew exactly how beautiful he thought you were. he considered himself a lucky man every day he got to spend with you. he supposed his desire for you could wait a few hours. he should spoil you rotten with a date in the park, before spoiling you in bed. “sure you really want to go out, baby?”

admires: because he’s proud of you

“baby,” his voice is soft, eyes even softer as he cups your face. he’d just gotten home from his schedule and you’d greeted him at the door, immediately sharing the news of your promotion with him. it was a small, mostly lateral move, with a tiny raise but you were still excited to share the news with him. he kisses you deeply, trying to convey his pride to you wordlessly.

“i should tell my mom. she’s going to be so happy for you.” this made you blush. you knew he’d be proud but you didn’t really expect him to be so happy that he’d want to tell everyone. it wasn’t even a big deal. you begged him not to call his mom right that moment and instead conceded to a spontaneous celebratory dinner at your favorite restaurant.

“i’m so proud of you,” this was now the sixth time he told you this since you shared the news with him, the second on the car ride to the restaurant. you blushed every time he said it, and had asked him to stop, to which he refused. in fact, he had doubled down. he threatened to have a cake brought to the table at dinner if you tried to silence him again. at a red light, he fished his phone out of his pocket, handing it over to you, “call my mom, for real. i want us to share the news with her. she’s going to be so proud, baby.”

barks: on accident

“baby!” the name came out harsh, frustrated. you’d never heard it that way before; this time, it wasn’t even directed at you. the dressing room fell silent and you watched the blush creep up his neck. the boys were never going to let him live this down. he turned from you, the conversation you were having before he went on stage now gone from his mind.

“sorry, i meant to say ‘seungkwan’”. he was trying to save the situation but it was awkward. not only had he tried to reprimand his members but he’s accidentally used your name to do it, embarrassing himself in front of his members, staff, and you. what was once a bustling hub of movement and concert preparation came to a screeching, uncomfortable halt at his faux pas.

“we know you like seungkwan, but we didn't know you liked him that much, hyung.” jeonghan broke the tension saving his leader and ushering in some polite laughter. the commotion slowly began again and he turned back to you. his face looked normal, probably due to the makeup, but his neck was bright red. he was flustered, “they’re never going to let this go, baby.”

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #svt #seventeen fluff #svthub #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #seventeen seungcheol #seungcheol imagine #choi seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol fluff

2K notes · View notes

luminiamore · 9 months ago

Text

SOUL, PT.2

basketball player ony x black spiritual reader

first part here.

warnings: bomb dick, vibrating panties (idea came to me last minute)

masterlist

The day finally arrived. The man you had been crushing on for months— the man who sucked the soul out of pussy just two days ago— was taking you out on a date. Your nerves were racking up, your breathing heavy as you stared at yourself in your mirror. The scent of lavender and the burning blunt you just rolled are lingering in your nostrils. It was 5 p.m., 30 minutes before Ony told you he was coming with your outfit.

You were stuck in the mirror, fixing the baby hairs on your ginger wig as you took another hit. Your head was being hit pretty hard by the effects of the marijuana. Your gold and stone bracelets jiggled around with every movement you made. Why were you so nervous? This is the same man that slobbered over your clit on your clit appallingly not too long ago. So, why were you so nervous? You jumped when you heard a ding coming from your phone.

“omw mama.”

Another hit. You read the text without even clicking on the message, and if Ony was the type of nigga to go 50 on a 20 road, you had about 10 minutes before he came knocking on your door. You quickly wrap a pink silk robe from one of your hangers on your body, not putting on panties because you have a gut feeling. You already showered, already lathered your body in your strawberry body milk. Your light makeup sat perfectly against your skin, your lips brown and glossed.

The only thing left for you to do was to spray a bit of your Kayali Sugar Candy perfume, and after the final spritz, you heard a light knocking sound coming from outside your room. Your heart is beating ten times faster— he didn’t even tell you he was outside. Another hit, and you ash it out outside your window.

Your feet could barely be heard on the ground as you rushed to open the door and shit. Seeing Ony outside of his usual attire was doing more to you than you cared to admit. He was in a white dress shirt and black suit pants— all dressed up for the date he was taking you on. His hair was freshly cut, the first two buttons on his shirt were loose, and he had a freshly ripened hibiscus bouquet in his right hand and a medium-sized bag on his left. How did he know those were my favorite flowers?

“Heard you tell that girl you always with that you really liked these.” He smirks a bit when your eyes widen in realization that you said your thoughts out loud. You grab the flowers from his grasp, fingers burning when you accidentally graze his hand, and mutter a small, “Thank you, they’re beautiful. Come in, Ony.”

His aura alone was so potent, so calm and safe, and inside, you knew your spirit guides were probably cheering you on. Your cat’s immediate approach to him, rubbing its head on his legs, was a sign that you made the right choice. Waiting for him to pet her, she plopped down on the floor, and unsurprisingly, Ony crouched down to honor her wishes.

You wanted him to take you now, but you knew Ony was a man of his word. He wouldn’t fuck you until after tonight. You just had to wait until after tonight. You glance up to where a regular clock is hanging above your door.

5:25.

..Waiting until after tonight suddenly seemed like forever.

“Not as beautiful as you. You smoking in here?” The smell of it was immediately detected when you opened the door. He smiled internally because he was waiting outside your apartment in his Hellcat while he texted you and lit his own joint. You really were meant for each other.

Ony thought you looked good enough to eat. Again. Nothing but a thin robe on you, accentuating your curves and showing a slight peak of your voluptuous brown tits. Flashes of you moaning his name and bucking your hips wildly onto his tongue started slipping into his mind— would it really be wrong to taste you again?

Your pretty voice breaks him out his thoughts, “Yea, you want a hit? Or two?” You release a chuckle, the sound making the tall man shiver a bit. He takes a deep breath— patience. He has to have patience. You’ll be moaning his name soon enough.

“Nah, was smoking before I got here. Here, mama.” He hands you the bag he was holding after you got done putting the flowers on your kitchen counter. You were a bit.. skeptical when Ony asked if he could dress you for tonight, worried that he might choose an outfit that you wouldn’t like.

What you didn’t know is that Ony observed you. Studied your peculiarities and the way you dressed when you walked up into Econ, he wouldn’t have asked such a question otherwise. He had precise knowledge of what to give you, and it was evident when you took the bag from him and found an exquisite crochet skirt set.

The skirt ended with shades of light to a deep royal purple, and the top had no straps. Flower patterns were all over it. There was also a pair of shoes, white mini heels with thin straps. And when you reached the bottom of the bag, you saw panties, purple, and flower patterns all over it, too.

“Ony, this is- It’s gorgeous. I-”

He kisses your cheek and gently pushes the items to your chest, “Go put ’em on. Reservation’s at 6:30.”

You giggle and nod, rushing to your room on your tiptoes. In your living room, Ony is waiting for you, lying down on your comfortable couch and petting your cat after she jumps onto his lap. He has reason to believe that you two wouldn’t make it outside if he came inside your room with you.

You take your time, slowly putting each piece on to not stretch the crochet material. Your last step was the panties, and you couldn’t help but feel that they were slightly heavier than any of the panties you owned. You’re about to examine it a little more, but you stop short when you hear Ony’s voice: “You ready, mama?”

Any confusion about the panties was long gone after you put them on, following the heels. After spritzing your perfume one more time, you grab your keys and head out the door, Ony following closely behind you.

It was a peaceful ride to wherever Ony was taking you, with only soft Brent Faiyaz music playing in the background and the light-burning sound of the half-finished joint he offered you. At every red light stop, you would let him take the hit until both of you finished it.

He parked his car in front of a garden-like spot just before you ashed it out, just in time. You are about to reach your hand to open your door but fall short when you hear a click!

“You should know better.” Was all he said before he got out of the driver’s seat and got to your side. As he opens the door for you, he grabs your hand to guide you out and leads you to a person who is ready to seat you both. Hand in yours the entire time. “Reservation for Onyankopon, please.”

The man gives a smile and gestures for you both to follow him. It would be an understatement to describe how beautiful the area was when you surveyed it. It was like a restaurant in a garden of flowers. You are led by the person to a table surrounded by grass and daises, with occasional butterflies flying around you.

“How did you even find this place?” You ask in complete awe. Ony spent a while trying to find a place he knew you would like. You didn’t seem like the type of person to like classy restaurants, and he definitely didn’t want to take you to some low-end place. He wanted to find something that resembled you. A place where you would feel completely comfortable.

And well, when you sat down, and a white butterfly made its way onto your awaiting finger... Ony couldn’t help but think he made the right choice. You look like a goddess. An ethereal being that was all his. “I drove by it one time, and it reminded me of you. You like it?”

He hoped you did. The expression on your face wasn’t telling him enough. He wanted to hear the words come out of your mouth, or else he would drown in his anxiety. All he wanted to do was please you.

“I love it, Ony.” A bright smile graced your face. You never looked more pretty— aside from when you made those gorgeous faces when he was pleasuring you.

A server came to take your order, Ony ordering for himself before the woman turned to you,

“And for you, miss?”

“Could I please have the-” The sensation of intense pressure vibrating on your clit causes you to stop your sentence with a faint gasp. Both of your hands are gripping the table to provide support.

“Miss? Are you okay?”

“You good, mama?” You look up when Ony questions and catch the faux concern in his eyes, his lips twitching up a bit as he almost fails to contain his smile. This was his doing. You knew those panties were different. And you seriously should’ve questioned why he bought you a pair anyway. Fuck it felt so good.

You steady your voice so you don’t stutter when you speak up, “… I’m okay. Could... I have the-the Shrimp Fried Rice, p-please.”

You curse yourself internally when you stumble upon your words. You observe as she reluctantly nods and accepts your order. You would’ve flushed your head down in embarrassment, but in your defense, you had a vibrator going at full speed on your clit. Fuck whatever she was thinking about you right now.

The minute she walks away from the table, you give Ony the meanest glare you could muster— which, to him, wasn’t doing much. In retaliation, he just turned the vibration up, causing you to yelp silently.

“Ony! W-why?” You whimper out as quietly as you can so as not to raise attention from the people around you. He just shakes his head, amused at how weak he could get you.

“You look so pretty like this, mama. Enjoy yourself, hm? You deserve it.”

He couldn’t get his mind off the events that occurred when you came to his dorm. Could you even blame him? For wanting to see more of those pretty faces you make. For wanting to eat you whole again.

He realized he couldn’t outright finger you in a public setting, not here anyway. He didn’t want to wait to fuck you so he could witness you fall apart like you did last time. He longs for you with a strong desire. Even 72 hours later, the flavor of your juices is still lingering on his tongue. “But-”

“Shh. Just try not to get too loud, yeah? Don’t want anyone else seeing those gorgeous faces you make.”

Squeezing your thighs together, your head falls back against your chair. This goes on for a good while, Ony just staring at you, biting your lips to stop the moans bottling in your throat from getting too loud. He watches as your pretty lashes flutter open and close while your eyes roll in the back of your head.

You rub your lower hips against the chair subtly in quick, fast motions to stave off your impending orgasm. Light gasps released from your throat when you feel a burning sensation in your abdomen. Just when you start feeling like the dam is about to burst and ruin the only thing that holds you up right now, everything comes to an end.

The vibration, your rubbing— nothing but your ears buzzing can be heard until you finally register what just happened. You don’t have time to dwell on it much because your waiter comes back with what you both ordered.

“Would you like some water, miss?” And this time, Ony grants you the mercy of answering for you, ears still buzzing and clit still twitching because of your ruined orgasm.

“She would, please.” When the waiter walks away from your table, Ony almost cracks under the pleading look you give him. He can’t believe it took him this long to ask you out. What if someone got to you before him? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

Your soft and crackling voice reaches his ears, “Please, Ony. Let me-”

“Eat your food, mama. I said enjoy yourself, never said you could cum.”

Giving him a pout is all you can do, and his tone indicates that this is not a subject for discussion. The rest of the night went surprisingly well. The conversation was full of rich details about both of you. Only told you many stories about him, how he got to be a basketball player, and how it was a dream of his since he was a toddler. In return, you told him how you even started your spiritual journey, spoke about your childhood even because you were just so comfortable around him.

He didn’t turn back on the vibrator for the remainder of the evening, only listening to the sweet melody of your voice whenever you said something or laughed at something he said. It seemed like you hadn’t been here for that long when the bill came. You were truly in the present moment with Ony, so you lost all sense of time. But you caught a glance at your phone— 9:30.

Damn. It’s already been three hours? Ony takes out his wallet and pulls out some cash. He gently grabs your hand to pull you out of your chair so that you and he can leave together. Before you know it, you both are on your way back to your apartment. What catches you off guard is the intense vibration from the restaurant coming back, causing you to let out a loud moan in his passenger seat. Your passenger seat after tonight, if he was being honest.

Your body thrashes against the seat belt, hips bucking wildly because you are still so horny after being left on the edge like that. “F-Fuck!”

He pretends to be unfazed, his eyes still focused on the road as you release the honey moans contained in his car.

“Can you hold it f’me? You’re almost home, mama. I’ll make you cum as much as you want when we get there.”

He must like torturing you. That’s the only explanation. At his words, you don’t think you ever worked harder to stave off an orgasm in your life. The pressure feels so good, your body bubbling with heat and the pleasure being felt in every corner. You wail when the vibrator hits a particular spot on your clit due to your hips rapidly shaking and moving.

Your breathing starts to become erratic as you release light hiccups. Your efforts to not cum are so intense that tears are falling from your brown eyes. Why was it taking so long to get home?

“I n-need to.. cum. Please!”

How do you do that? Look so divine while your pussy is being overstimulated? He almost wants to let you have cum because you look so pretty while trying to beg for him. But then he thinks about how he doesn’t want you finishing on anything other than the massive tent in his pants, and he figures— you can wait a bit. He’s pulling up in your garage anyway, and he wasn’t going to fuck you in his car for your first time together.

Your heavy breathing and the sudden slam of Ony’s door are all that remains in the car when he puts it in park. He opens your door and swiftly holds you in a bridal style to your apartment number. He presses light kisses to your cheek, his tatted hand rubbing gently on your wide hips.

He doesn’t wait a second to devour your lips once you open your door, your moans being muffled by the sheer force of the kiss. His lips were soft and sweet against yours, fitting perfectly as your lip gloss was smeared onto him. Still in his hold, you weakly point to the direction of your room, which he follows wordlessly. Heels are long gone, and been thrown in the hall amid your make-out session.

He plops you down on your mattress, and you don’t hesitate to yank him down towards you into another brutal make-out session, your smooth legs encircling his waist. You gasp when he firmly squeezes the fat of your tits, allowing him to dip his tongue into yours, deepening the kiss.

Fuck, you wanted him so bad. Your skirt rises, and soon, there’s nothing but his pants and your panties separating the two of you. Ony was unusually big.. you knew this when you first saw his print at his dorm. And right now, as he was fumbling to take his belt off, your mind was scrambling, trying to figure out how you were going to fit all of him inside of you.

All thoughts went out the window when he ripped your damp panties off in one go and immediately started playing with the obscene amount of slick that’s been gathering ever since he came to pick you up. Your cute sounds are heaven to him.

His deep voice whispers in your ear, “You’re so wet, baby. Don’t need me to prep you, right?”

His fingers are moving rapidly against your clit, as he is awestruck by how his hands keep slipping off out of rhythm due to your wetness. Or maybe he was already drunk on you, desperate to split your pussy apart on his cock. His pants aren’t even entirely off before he’s fisting his fat cock out of his boxers and slapping his brown tip right on your pussy lips, creating wet squelching sounds.

“Could just slip right in with how you’re leaking all over your sheets. You gonna take it, mama?”

And he was right. Your wetness was creating a dark stain on your bed, likely gonna start seeping into the mattress. You sneak a glance down at Ony’s ministrations, and you immediately try to move your hips away. This man was dead-ass walking around with a third leg. It was so big, it actually scared you. How the fuck was that supposed to fit inside of you? Even your last fling wasn’t this hung.

He immediately pulled your hips back towards him, refusing to let you run away from the deep fucking he’s been craving to give you. “Don’t do that. Take it f’me, baby. Please?”

You whimper, his pleading tone getting you even more wetter. “O-Ony.. you’re too b-big! I can’t- Ooo fuck.”

You didn’t have time to finish your sentence before he sank his length past your tight walls, making you feel every inch of him. Fuck, he was so deep, and he almost wanted to cum right there. He looks down at you and shit.

You never looked more beautiful, as he said. Your mouth is constructed into a lovely “o” shape, and your eyes roll back so deep into your skull he can see your white eye sockets. You were drooling, the feeling of his dick inside of you simply too much for your tiny brain to handle. He wasn’t gonna last long.

Your wet cunt was so stretched out, and Ony didn’t even give you a second to relax before he started feeding you deep, harsh strokes. You could do nothing but let tears fall from your eyes and wail his name so loud you’re sure you’ll probably get a noise complaint from your neighbors.

“Gorgeous. Such a good girl taking my dick like this, you love it baby? Talk to me, mama.” He pleads as his face is buried in the crook of your sweat-filled neck, the feeling of your pussy being better than he ever imagined. Than he ever dreamed of. The sounds you both were making were so lewd, so nasty. But it was bringing you much closer to splashing all over his disheveled dress shirt.

“So-so good, Ony! L-Love it s’much.” Your pretty cries make him groan loudly against you; you can feel it vibrating against your chest. Your mind is blanking, and the fire in your stomach that you felt twice today is coming back, only much stronger. Your already overstimulated clit is causing it to come much faster.

With every thrust he gives you, you give Ony a beautiful yelp. And he could only watch your face contort as you struggle to find something to hold on to, to ground you. You’re a bit dense if you think he would let you do anything other than feel every spec of what he gave you. He grasps both of your hands with only one of his hands and presses them above your head.

“Pussy’s so damn good, shit. M’gonna cum. Where you want it, mama?”

And you respond to him so eagerly, choking on your spit when he presses down on your stomach, his bulge being prominently displayed every time he thrusts in and out of you.

“Ahhh! M-me too! Inside, Ony. P-Please Ony, cum in m-me.”

He can’t say no to you, not when you beg him to fill you up with tears like that. The final straw for you was when he forced his tongue into your panting mouth again, swallowing every gasp and moan that managed to fall past your lips. You make a sudden and unwarranted shriek against his mouth, and your pussy splashes all over him.

He groans as you babble his name repeatedly, allowing salty tears to flow freely down your cheeks. Your body twitches as your pussy creams and squeezes tightly around him, and that’s enough for Ony to shiver as his cum spurts past your womb. He should have slowed down or stopped because now you both feel overstimulated.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop thrusting his hips rapidly against you, the feeling of you squirting on his dick quickly becoming something he wanted more of. He needs you to do that again. He needs you to spray your sweet juices so hard it reaches his face. Your chest is heaving as you try to wriggle your hands out of Ony’s grasp to slow him down. Your attempt doesn’t do much but make him tighten his grip on you,

“Give me another one, mama. Come on, just one more, baby.” And by the look on his face, even you can tell it wasn’t just going to be one more. You were in for a long night.

#onyankopon x black y/n #ony x black reader #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #ony x y/n #onyankopon x black reader smut #onyankopon smut #onyankapon #onyankopon fluff #onyankopon x you #aot x black y/n #aot x reader #aot smut

2K notes · View notes

iamnotoriginalphil · 2 months ago

Text

Mommy Dearest (Agatha Harkness x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Parent/teacher evening isn't meant to make you want to get to know your student's mother better, but Mrs Harkness is force of nature and you're weak under the force of her flirting.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption

Tags: @sasheemo @buttercandy16 @chlondykebar @midnight-lestrange @babybeeelle @dontsblameme

You glanced up from your class list, a smile painted on your face, the fatigue you were feeling pressing against the back of your eyes. One more interview and then you were done for the night. You just had to make it through and then you could go home and curl up in bed, sleeping until well into the morning of your Saturday.

Mrs Scratch was not a parent you’d had much to do with. Nicky was, for the most part, a delight. You hadn’t had to call home or chase down a parent to share concerns. Hell, you hadn’t ever had to send the kid home sick. He was your easiest student, and as such, you’d had no reason to meet with his parents.

Unlike plenty of the other kids in your class.

So when the knock sounded on your door, your final meeting for the night, you looked up with interest. Your smile was brittle, hiding how tired you were, but still, the curiosity curled like a purring cat in your chest.

Mrs Scratch didn’t bother waiting for you to call for her to enter, strutting through your door and immediately making your mouth grow dry. Shooting to your feet, your hand knocked the water bottle from your desk. The loud clatter rang in your ears and you felt your cheeks heat, eyes widening. Ducking down, you scrabbled for it, doing your best to take a deep breath in and calm your racing heart.

Popping back up, red lips were pulled into an amused smirk, blue eyes twinkling as she watched you stand up straight. You let your eyes sweep over her, that same sense of breathlessness removing all thoughts from your head. Purple dress pants highlighting long legs, a white shirt open at the collar, one hand resting in her pocket, heeled boots putting her just taller than you, it would be easy to believe Mrs Scratch was the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen.

“Hi, sorry about that. I’m a total klutz,” you said, placing the bottle back on your desk out of reach when you sat back down.

“Don’t worry about it, hon,” she said, her voice a low register that had goosebumps erupting over your skin.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Scratch,” you said, holding a hand out to her.

“Harkness,” she said as her palm slid along yours.

“Sorry?”

You were so distracted by the feeling of her warm skin against yours you weren’t sure you’d understand what she was saying.

“My surname is Harkness, not Scratch,” she said.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” you said, your cheeks heating again.

“Don’t worry about it, hon. You’re not the first,” she said with a small laugh.

Her hand squeezed yours before she let you go. What was wrong with you? You’d never been like this around one of your student’s parents. Something had to be going wrong. It couldn’t just be that she was gorgeous. Although she was. Fuck, you were still standing and she was staring at you and you knew you were meant to be doing something but staring into her face you couldn’t figure out what it was. Her lips pulled up into a smile again.

“Should we get started?” she asked.

“Yes!” You cringed at how loud your voice came out, “unless we’re waiting for… Nicky’s other parent?”

Your eyes darted down to see if she had a wedding ring. Her left hand was still in her pocket, giving you no indication. Not that it should matter. She was a parent, not a woman you were trying to pick up at a bar.

“No, no one else. I’m afraid it’s just me and Nicky,” she laughed.

“Oh, great.” You cringed again, “uh… have a seat.”

You fell into your own seat as she much more gracefully lowered into hers. You stared across at her, cataloguing her features, wondering what she’d look like in the morning sunlight. Shaking your head, you looked down at your notes.

“Right, Nicky…” You tried to gather your thoughts, “he’s a great kid. Super engaged, always willing to help other students, doesn’t cause me any trouble. He’s a delight to have in class.”

“Oh god,” she laughed, “if I have to read that one more time on his report cards I’m going to have to wonder if he’s mine at all.”

“You weren’t?” you asked, but just from the tilt of her lips you knew she was nothing but trouble.

“I spent more time in detention than in class,” she said, those blue eyes twinkling.

“Naughty girl,” you said then immediately choked on your own spit.

Your eyes widened and your cheeks were hot enough to fry and egg on. Her lips pulled up into a smirk and she lent back in her seat.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, “that was so inappropriate. It’s been a long day but that’s no excuse.”

“Don’t worry about it, hon,” she said, but her eyes were trailing over you in a way that had you shivering.

“Look, I have no concerns about Nicky. He’s tracking well and seems happy so unless you have any questions…” you trailed off with a small shrug, “you should be very proud of him.”

“Oh I am.” Her grin turned from something that had your skin aflame to one full of pride, “he’s the greatest thing I’ve done with my life.”

“It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Harkness,” you said, raising from your chair.

She grasped your hand again, her skin still so warm against yours. Her touch lingered, those eyes burning where they landed on you. Your lips parted and for the first time in a long time you felt out of control.

And then her hand was back at her side and she was sweeping out of the room. Standing behind your desk, you stared after her, long after the doorway emptied. You shook your head, sinking back into your chair.

Mrs Harkness was a tornado that could so easily tear your life apart.

Saturday night a couple of weeks later found you sitting at a bar, nursing a cocktail, doing your best to push the enigmatic woman from your mind. You’d been thinking about her too much since that parent teacher interview. She came to you in dreams, leaving you wanting, gasping, a throbbing between your legs.

You’d begun hanging around in the morning and afternoon, hoping to see her when she picked up Nicky. All you wanted was a glimpse, hoping that your memory was overblowing her beauty. You’d been tired, exhausted, it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility that you’d been in an altered mental state and she wasn’t as captivating as you’d found her. If you could just see her, you might be able to stop thinking about her so much. You just needed the proof to put your obsession to rest.

Or, perhaps, what you needed was to find someone else. Hence why you were at the bar, alone, on a Saturday night when you could have been at home doing anything else more enjoyable than putting yourself out there. It was not going well if your single nursed cocktail was anything to go by.

A warm shoulder brushed against yours as someone settled into the stool beside yours. You didn’t bother sparing them a glance. Staring at the bottom of your glass, having had no success, you were in the middle of considering going home. You hadn’t so much as approached a woman, each one compared to Mrs Harkness and each one found wanting.

Yeah, you were so fucked.

Sighing, you pushed the glass away from you, half drunk and not worth your time. You’d get more from going home and indulging in your fantasies than sitting here, dejected and alone.

“I’m concerned about ordering a drink if the way you’re looking at yours is anything to go by. It looks like it’s personally offended you.”

You stiffened. That voice, so familiar, couldn’t have followed you to this bar. There was no chance that of all the bars you could visit, she would happened to stumble in to the very one you’d chosen. Turning your head, you felt your heart skip a beat.

Mrs Harkness had found you.

“Oh, uh.” You felt yourself begin to slip off your stool, “no, it’s fine.”

Righting yourself, you reached out to the glass again, taking a drink from it just to prove it. Lips pulled up into a smirk as blue eyes darkened, focusing on your mouth. You shivered, inhaling sharply. Your cocktail burned as it went down the wrong way and you coughed, not able to stop yourself, tears blurring your vision.

A warm hand landed on your back, rubbing a soothing circle into your back. Pressing a hand to your face, mortified, you tried to take a few deep breaths. It was typical that the first time you saw the object of your desires you ended up choking on your drink. Something about her turned your brain to mush and you stopped being able to function like a person.

“Deep breath, hon,” she murmured, close to you to be heard over the sound of the bar, “there you go.”

“Sorry,” you gasped.

“No need to apologise to me. It’s not my drink you’re giving such a shocking review,” she said, an undercurrent of laughter in her voice.

You brushed the tears away, the mortification of the moment making you wonder if you could make the ground swallow you up with just a thought. Her hand was still between your shoulder blades, resting against your bare skin exposed by the cute top you’d thrown on in the hopes of snagging someone’s attention. You found yourself leaning into her touch, not able to stop yourself.

“It’s not as bad as I’m making it seem,” you managed to say.

“That’s a relief,” she said, “although you’ve been nursing it for a while.”

“I have?”

She hummed, drawing closer to you. You froze, surrounded by her. Long fingers plucked the glass from your grip, swirling the liquid inside. She took a slow drink from it, maintaining eye contact with you. Your lips parted, mouth growing dry, watching her with such a strong sense of yearning you felt like someone had grasped your heart and given it a sharp tug.

“So is this where I can expect to find my son’s teacher every Saturday night?” she asked, placing the glass down.

You shook your head, still not able to form words. Not when her palm was burning into your skin and her perfume was invading your nose. She was everywhere, overwhelming you so easily you weren’t sure she was even aware she was doing it. Her lips pulled up into a smirk.

“Just looking for a place to drink?” she asked.

“I guess,” you said, voice small.

“Or were you hoping to meet someone?”

She raised her eyebrow and your skin heated. You wondered if it was possible to die from embarrassment, on the brink of it already. Her fingertips trailed over your spine until her hand was on the small of your back before sliding around your waist.

“The question is, were you looking for a single night of abandon or something longer term?” she asked, her voice husky, making you shiver. There was no way she wouldn’t notice with how close she was.

“I…” You didn’t have words for this exact scenario.

“You…?” she prompted.

Oh god, she was so close. You could see all the colours in her eyes. You could feel her breath against your skin. You could kiss her if you only lent forward a few inches.

“Tell me,” she hummed, “what are the ethical implications of seeing one of your students’ parents?”

Your breath stuttered in your chest. That was not something you thought she would be asking you. It was meant to be a one sided feeling, your going crazy over a parent, not reciprocated and getting your heart racing and your hope building. You found yourself leaning towards her.

“I suppose as long as it doesn’t affect the student… it shouldn’t matter,” you said.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” she said.

“You were?” There was that hope again.

“I must admit I left our meeting feeling rather enamoured with you. When I saw you sitting here alone, it felt like divine intervention,” she said.

“Oh,” was all you managed to come up with.

“Of course, if you’re uninterested…”

She moved back from you.

“No.” Your hand landed on hers, holding her in place.

Blue eyes turned to you and the twinkle was unmistakable. She knew what she was doing, and she was doing it well.

“I am,” you said, “interested, that is.”

She considered you a moment, gaze sweeping over you. Trembling, you let her look, almost displaying yourself for her. When the blue of her eyes darkened, a rush of heat went through you. Her eyes lingered on the cleavage you had on display. Your back arched, offering yourself to her. The low chuckle she gave only made your fingers tighten on her hand.

“Shall we find somewhere more private?” she asked, voice low and dangerous, making promises of what was to come.

“Yes,” you said, already standing.

Her hand on the small of your back guided you through the crowd, directing you to the exit. You went easily, willing to follow her anywhere if it meant you could taste her. You wanted to feel her skin against yours, to know what her weight in your lap felt like, to hear the noises she would make when you were knuckles deep in her. You’d been thinking about it so much since your meeting with her, exactly what it would be like to have her.

Her hand slid to your hip as the cold air nipped at your skin. Without the crowd you could take a deep breath in, focused on the way her warmth bled through to you. Following her around the corner, the hand on your hip guided you until your back was pressed to the rough bricks of the building. She stepped into your personal space, her other hand resting beside your waist, caging you in.

“You’ve been driving me crazy for weeks now,” she murmured, lips brushing over the skin of your jaw as she lent forward, breath ghosting over your skin, “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.”

“You haven’t?” you asked in a whisper, itching to touch her.

“Is that really so surprising, hon? When everything about you makes me want to sink my teeth into you?” she asked, a low growl against your ear.

“Then go ahead and do it.”

You grasped her face, dragging her into a searing kiss. Your fingers buried themselves in the hair at the nape of her neck as her tongue licked along your lower lip. You whimpered, pressing closer to her, kissing her deeper. Her teeth sunk in, doing what she’d threatened, making you moan, muffled in her mouth.

With the hand on your hip, she pinned you against the wall, growling when you dragged her closer. Your fingers in her hair were tugging, wanting her pressed against you, wanting no amount of space between the two of you, wanting her skin against yours. She tasted like whiskey, turning your heady hazy.

When you’d spent all those hours fantasising about her, it had never been like this. This was intense, burning through you, leaving you desperate and gasping, wanting more, needing her in ways you’d never felt before. No one had made you feel so out of control. You certainly hadn’t expected to like that feeling so much.

No one had made you want to submit to them so quickly.

You gasped as her lips travelled down your throat, head tipping back against the brick wall. Her tongue on you skin was turning you dizzy.

“Mrs Harkness,” you gasped.

“Agatha,” she murmured into your skin.

“What?” Your fingers tightened in her hair.

“My name. I think we’re a bit past such formalities,” she replied before her teeth sunk into your skin.

The noise you made was embarrassing, needy and desperate and whining. But the noise she made had you pressing your thighs together, the deep throbbing stealing your breath. Your fingers scrabbled against her back, trying to pull her closer, not sure that was possible, but needing her so much you thought you’d combust if you didn’t have her.

Her lips landed back on yours, muffling your mewling. One of her legs slipped between yours. You were gasping into her mouth, hips pressing down against her thigh, seeking out the friction you so desperately wanted.

A loud ringing startled you. She nipped at your lower lip before drawing away. Her hand went to the back pocket of her jeans, pulling out her phone, a look of concern flashing over her face.

“Kate, what’s wrong?” she asked the moment she accepted the call.

She listened for a moment before she sighed, eyes closing for a moment.

“I’ll be right there,” she said, “tell him I’ll be home soon.”

She hung up with a deep sigh before turning to look at you. You weren’t sure what she saw, but she reached out, thumb running along your lower lip, eyes darkening once again.

“I’m so sorry, hon, but that was my baby sitter. Nicky is sick and wants me to come home,” she said.

“Of course you’ve got to go,” you said, not even thinking about it. Her son needed her.

“I should have known you’d understand,” she said, voice soft, almost fond, “can I take you out some time? Somewhere nicer than this alley?”

“Yes,” you said, so fast there was no playing it cool.

She chuckled, leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to your lips.

“I’ll call you,” she said.

You fell back against the wall, watching her walk away from you. Those jeans were doing good work, and even with the cold water of her sick son, you wanted to get your hands on her ass in them. She glanced over her shoulder, finding you still watching. The wink she shot in your direction had your heart skipping a beat.

Agatha Harkness was definitely going to tear your life apart and you were going to enjoy every second of it.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #agatha all along #aaa week #agatha harkness imagine

571 notes · View notes

motthe · 2 months ago

Note

more young silco 🙏 still with the high energy reader like the last one but make them smooch 😈 if you don't mind gender neutral terms 🙏

not a lot of chaotic energy in this one but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!!

You and your scouts should’ve been back an hour ago. It was a short, simple mission to grab some information and get out without no one knowing any better.

Felicia had wanted to lead, but her belly had begun to swell and with it everyone’s worries. You’d stepped up before anyone could argue.

“Quit pacing. You’re wearing my floors down,” Vander called, no better with his nerves. He’d been drying the same glass for the last ten minutes. That and the bar was closed.

The Last Drop was rarely closed.

“They’re late,” Silco spat, long strands of his hair coming loose from his bun as his hand passed over his head. “Something’s wrong.”

“Give it time.” Vander eyed the door, waiting for someone to walk in with news. “Might just be held up.”

Silco sat with a huff, weighing the tension of his temples into cool-tipped fingers. “I should have gone.”

Before Vander could respond, the bar doors slammed open. Two of your men had your arms slung over their shoulders, carrying you in

“What happened?” Silco called as Vander cleared the bar top. You were dropped there, face twisted in pain.

“Just a leg injury. I’m fine.” Each syllable was ground through your teeth.

“They baited the guards so we could escape,” one of the scouts explained.

“I made it back to the meeting point, didn’t I?” you grumbled before your head jerked up. Vander shredded the pants over your injury, ripping them off to reveal the damage.

“Gonna need stitches,” he said, pulling the rag he’d been using for the clean glasses from his shoulder. You didn’t get a warning as he shoved it into your mouth. “Bite that. You lot, hold them down.”

The scouts were on your legs, which left Silco to grab your arms. Your nostrils flared as your eyes met, looking about as pissed as a cat after a dunk into the toxic lake.

“I’ll lecture you later,” he said as he heard a bottle uncork. His grip tightened over your wrists as he weighed you down, getting close to your face so he encompassed your vision. “Keep your eyes on me, pet.”

The moment the disinfectant hit your leg, your eyes ripped wide. Everyone strained as you thrashed, Silco most of all as you tried to buck up and pull away. Expletives filled the room—all from the ones over you since you were screaming through the gag.

By the time you stopped fighting and Vander finished, all of them were exhausted.

“Too fuckin’ strong,” Vander sighed, tying off the bandage. “That’s why you get into to so much trouble.”

He pulled the gag from your lips and you spat to your right, eyes dull. “I’ll get you back for that shit. That hurt.”

“Then stop gettin’ injured.”

“Leave lecture to Silco, yeah?” you scoffed.

“Still biting,” he chuckled, waving a hand to the scouts. “C’mon, lads. Let’s hear that information over some of the good stuff, aye?”

Their shoulders collapsed in relief. You just sighed, Silco’s hand going to your back to help you sit up and slide off onto your good leg.

“That doesn’t include you,” he said, low. “I’m taking you home.”

“Ever the gentleman, Sil.” You made a sound that had his heart wincing as you fell into his side. “Yeah…home sounds nice.”

Out in the rot-tinged air, you’re quiet and tame. Everything that you aren’t.

“Speak your mind,” he said when the silence began to drowned him. “Talk to me.”

You shook your head. “Just tired.”

“I’ve seen you tired,” he hummed, his arm tightening around your waist. “You become delirious, not thoughtful.”

“Maybe I’m thinking deliriously,” you grumbled. The two of you walked another block, tense despite being so close. He was used to you melting into him when he allowed his space to be encroached upon. The warmth of your body against his felt so distant.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking,” he admitted, “but it’s just me, pet.”

Your face fell, eyes screwing shut. He feared your pain had come back for a vengeance before you sniffed and brought your hand up to wipe at your eyes.

In the years Silco has known you, he rarely ever saw you cry and now it was twice in his one day. All he could think to do was draw you into his arms, cradling your head into his neck as you sobbed quietly. Your home was just around the corner, but he couldn’t find it in himself to drag you there like this.

“Sorry,” you choked out.

“Don’t start that,” he said, shaking his head when you pulled yours back, avoiding his eyes. “You never need apologize. Not over something like this.”

“I am, though, for worrying you,” you whispered, limping along until you two finally made it to your door. “Should’ve been more careful.”

“You made it back alive. That’s all I ask.”

“I almost didn’t.”

He met your gaze, eyes rimmed pink as he led you inside. The two of you sunk into your couch.

“Tell me.”

“I got the guards split up,” you explained, head back on his shoulder, “thought I was in the clear and one clipped me, caught up. Had all of a second when he pointed that gun at me. Thought that was it.”

“You were scared,” he stated. “It’s natural.”

“I was,” you agreed, “but that’s not why I’m upset.”

He didn’t push you. He merely kept to your side, the arm still wrapped around you rubbing your side.

“I waited for that bullet,” you whispered, hoarse, “and the only thing I thought about was you when it went off. Bastard ran out of ammo, and I realized how tired I am of dancing around. I’m not subtle, but I wasn’t about to die before…”

You sighed and sat up, groaning as you grabbed your leg.

“Easy,” he said losing all breath as your hands went to his face, cupping his jaw.

“I love you,” you said. “I didn’t wanna go anywhere before I told you that, at least.”

He knew. He’d doubted it since the moment you begun showing interest, but he was more than aware of his own feelings. Love could be so fickle—he saw the end of it, the mess, the newness. He convinced himself the love of his friends was all he’d ever need. Having you someway in his life was all he wanted.

“It won’t change anything,” you promised, hands falling as you turned in on yourself. “You don’t have to say—“

A puff of a laugh strayed from his lips before his pulled you back by your waist, his free hand locking your head in place as he pressed his lips to yours. You didn’t hesitate to return the sentiment, hands falling over his back—melding as close as you could without moving your leg.

When he withdrew, you chased. He pecked your lips once, chuckling when you mumbled his name, almost a whine.

“I adore you, pet,” he whispered, “never doubt that.”

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane x y/n #young!silco #young!silco x reader #silco x reader #silco x you #silco x y/n #arcane drabbles #arcane oneshots #arcane fanfic #arcane fic #masterlist #arcane content

427 notes · View notes

the-fiction-witch · 6 months ago

Text

Our Secret

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Gwayne Hightower Couple - Gwayne X Reader (Uncle x Niece) Reader - Y/n Targaryen (Daughter of Alicent and Viserys) Rating - 18+ nudity/ stripping/ incest / c tasting / licking / finger fucking / fingering / Word Count - 1863

Requested-

oh, btw, would you consider writing some smut for Ser Gwayne Hightower, or isn't a character that you fancy enough for that? your writing is so good!

Y/n had waited in the courtyard as soon as word reached her of his arrival in the city, she watched as his men made their way in, horses galloping across the stone. She softly smiled when she met eyes with her uncle Gwayne Hightower as he climbed from his horse and fixed his hair. She adjusted her long green gown holding it in hand as she made her way over and bowed as she reached him "My lord,"

Gwayne chuckled, watching Y/n come over to him, waving his hand in dismissal at her bow. “No need to be so formal, my little bird."

"Forgive me, so much has changed these last few months. I find myself meery bowing to everyone just for simplicity's sake," she answered her tone shy and sheepish,

"I'm afraid if you continue that habit I'll have to give you a few extra lessons on how not to be so proper. Your face may get stuck in a permanent state of bowing."

"Perhaps," she blushed, "Shall I show you to your chambers uncle? I can have them bring you supper? Or would you rather attend to a visit with the queen regent?"

"I can imagine that Alicent will busy at this moment with all her duties. I shall see her after supper, a good meal after a long ride always has a way of making things more bearable."

Y/n nodded and turned to lead the way inside the keep, she led him through the corridors before finally to his chambers. Gwayne nodded as he stepped into his temporary chambers, following Y/n inside. He sat on the bed, taking off his riding boots and stretching out with a soft groan, the bed beneath him being far more comfortable than the leather of his seat that he just spent gods knows how long riding on.

"Last I had heard my mother was taken to prayer, she does so at this hour daily accompanied by none other than her sworn sword."

Gwayne raised a brow at the mention of Alicent's sworn sword, "Ser Criston, I presume. They are practically tied at the hip, that's for sure..."

"she insists, for her protection in these tender days,"

Gwayne leaned back on his bed, arms behind his head. "I wouldn't be surprised if she has more than just protection on her mind whenever she is with her sworn shield."

“Perhaps…”

Gwayne lifted a brow, smirking at her. He rolled over onto his side, leaning on his elbow as he looked at her. One could imagine it was similar to the look a cat might give a mouse, a little bit of mischief sparkling in his eyes. "Does my little niece have something going on in that head of hers? Some juicy gossip to tell her old uncle perhaps?"

“No, No… she is simply very busy, I hardly much see her these days.”

Gwayne sat up on his bed, patting the blanket next to him with a sympathetic smile on his face. "She's the queen regent now, she's going to be busy, especially in these times. But she's your mother, don't be afraid to knock on her door and demand her company."

"I so often find her in the company of my siblings..." Y/n said as she came sitting beside him smoothing her dress as she sat, "It is sinful of me? to be envious?"

Gwayne wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. He squeezed tightly, letting his smile grow once more. "Of course, it isn't. I may be a knight, but I'm not so virtuous to deny that I have sinful thoughts now and then. It would be natural for you to want your mother's alone attention after she's spent years focusing it on your other siblings." Gwayne paused for a moment, squeezing her one more time before continuing to speak, eyes studying her face carefully. “Though, my little bird… I must ask. Do these envious thoughts extend past your mother when it comes to those siblings of yours?”

"How so?"

"Well, sometimes one can’t help but compare themselves to their siblings. Do you? Perhaps even envy them for anything that they may have and you do not?"

"No uncle, I am content. Merely lonely I expect,"

Gwayne hummed, watching her carefully, expression thoughtful for a moment. He nodded in understanding of her words before smiling once more, “Well, you won’t be lonely now that I’m here.”

"I suppose not, may I ask of your travels? and of my little brother Daeron?"

Gwayne let his smile grow at the mention of Daeron, the boy was a favorite of his, after all. He sat up a little straighter, "He’s growing up quickly. Very sharp with a blade already, I don’t have a doubt in my mind that he will surpass me in skill one day. I also wouldn’t be surprised if he manages to get even taller than me as well, gods know that the boy will shoot up like a weed." Gwayne chuckled, rubbing his chin as he continued in thought. He turned to look down at Y/n, taking in her own appearance before speaking once more, voice amused. "He definitely got the good look, too, I’d say. Much better than what I myself was cursed with. And he certainly got that Targaryen look to him, you can’t deny that. He's going to be quite the catch to any young lady that catches his eye..."

“Sometimes… I wish…”

Gwayne’s smile faded once he heard the tone in her voice, a frown starting to form on his face. He furrowed his brows, studying her expression closely. "Wish what, little bird?"

"sometimes I wish mother had sent me away, instead of daeron. or as well as. There are days I ponder over what joys I may have if I was at Oldtown with you,"

A look of surprise flashed across Gwayne’s face. He let out a quiet sigh as he pulled Y/n close, wrapping both arms around her and resting his chin gently on top of her head. They were silent for a moment before he spoke, voice quiet but still with a hint of concern. “I didn’t know you felt like that, little bird… Have you ever asked her why she sent Daeron and not you?”

"No, but I can assume,"

“And would you care to share your assumption?”

"Aegon is king. Heleana his queen. Mother would never send Aemond away she worries to much for him. So she sends away Daeron her little boy she has hopes and ambitions for."

Gwayne hummed, considering the validity of her words. He couldn’t help himself from reaching out and ruffling her hair again, “And there’s no hope and ambition for you, my little bird? Your mother has placed no expectations for you?”

"My mother plans to sell me off, to whatever lord bids highest when the war begins." Y/n answered, “Whichever lord offers the most men,”

Gwayne’s eyes widened slightly as she spoke. He paused for a moment, processing the words that she just spoke., his eyes hardening as anger began to bubble inside him. “Surely it can’t be that bad. Has Alicent actually spoken of that in front of you?”

"she says as her unmarried daughter... it is my duty,"

Gwayne didn’t say anything at first, clenching his jaw as he ground his teeth in anger. After a few moments passed, he spoke up again, voice somewhat quiet but with a clear hint of anger. “Alicent shouldn’t send you to some lord to be sold to, like she’s sending a piece of furniture. You are a Hightower, little bird. One of us. She has no right to treat you like some kind of cattle that she can barter and trade as she pleases.” Gwayne took a breath before continuing to speak, forcing himself to calm down some. He reached over and grabbed Y/n’s chin, gently tilting her head up so he could look into her eyes. His voice was softer now, but there was still a slight trace of anger in his tone. “She has no right… I won’t let anyone treat you like that. I won’t let Alicent sell you off to any lord that bids high. I’ll fight tooth and nail to make sure Alicent doesn’t do that to you, little bird.”

"Thank you, uncle," she briefly smiled, the first real smile he had seen since his arrival

Seeing her smile seemed to calm Gwayne a bit more, his shoulders relaxing and his jaw unclenching as a small smile formed on his face as well. He let go of her chin, gently ruffling her hair once more. “There we go, much better than that pitiful frown I saw earlier. No more talk about Alicent intending to sell you off to some lord. I won’t have it.”

After a while of the sweet embrace Y/n spoke once more, “Uncle?”

Another hum left Gwayne’s mouth, looking down at her with an eyebrow raised. “Yes, little bird?”

“You… have been gone so long,”

Gwayne let his smile grow after her words, nodding his head. “You’re right… I can’t believe it’s been this long. My, hasn’t it been almost four years now?”

"Do you think... I am too old now for 'secrets'?" she whispered

“Too old for secrets? Never.” he smiled,, “Why do you ask that, little bird?”

"One of... our little secrets?" she hinted

Gwayne’s lip twitched upward in a mixture of amusement and curiosity. His smile turned a little wicked, “One of… our little secrets?”

she nodded blushing a little

“Never my little bird,” He cooed, “Would you perhaps like to-”

“Yes please,” she softly giggled and checked the door to make sure no one was around to see them before she closed the gap and pressed her lips to his as they had so many times throughout her life

He let a soft laugh escape his mouth when her lips made contact with his, one of his hands finding purchase on the back of her head and he leaned into the kiss.

The kiss lasted for a few seconds, Gwayne wrapping one of his arms around her and pulling her a bit closer to him as the kiss continued for a bit before he pulled away just enough that their lips were still millimetres apart, but there was just enough there that he could look into her eyes. “… we can’t have anyone finding out about this, now can we, my little bird?”

she shook her head "No..."

A soft chuckle left his mouth as he studied her face once again, that smirk never leaving his face as he spoke. “No, we cannot have anyone finding out. It is a secret that we have to keep. You got that, little bird? This is just between us, okay?”

"If I promise... do I get more?"

The smirk on Gwayne’s face deepened, his eyes flashing with amusement as he chuckled softly and nodded his head. “If you promise, then I’ll give you more.”

"I promise," she nodded excitedly

A soft chuckle left his mouth at her excitement, a brief moment of silence passing before he spoke once more. “Good girl…” He smirked one of his hands gently tilting her chin up some before he leaned forward and planted a kiss on her lips once more, the kiss grew deeper and more intense until he pushed her down on his bed, "You remember little bird? Our secret?"

She nodded giggling softly in excitement,

He scoffed a chuckle and bit his bottom lip, He grasped the hem of her gown and swiftly pushed it up around her waist, revealing her underdress and stockings, "So sweet and proper," he cooed as he pushed the underdress up to her thighs to the top of her stockings, grabbing under her thighs and forcing them up until her knees where completely up, "Always have been, haven't you. You're really growing into the title... of princess," he smirked, running his nose over the tender skin at the top of her stockings,

"You think so?"

"I know so," he smirked, "But... you'll always be my little bird," he growled, his eyes meeting hers before he pealed her stocking down her leg and tossed it onto the floor, the other soon followed and he peppered kisses from her ankle all the way to her thighs, "You know y/n, I have been travelling for so long, I think I need a good meal." He growled, before she even had a chance to respond he forced her to dress and underdress up to her waist,

She softly and playfully squealed as he exposed her already trembling cunt,

"Shhh." He reminds her as he sits up with a predatory smile as he looks down at her, laid on his bed her hair cascading around her, her dress up around her waist and her legs up and apart offering herself to him so willingly, "Wouldn't you agree? that your old uncle needs something delicious?" He growled as his hand moved to rub across her tender lips, gliding his fingers over her wetness, he rubbed her clit with a sly clockwise circle before sliding his fingers down to push his index and middle finger inside her,

"Ah!" She gasped her hips bucking upwards, her feet attempting to squirm against the sheets as hie fingers so delicately fucked her, as Gwayne loomed over her with a sly sadistic smile, she tried to be quiet but the moans fell from her lips like a waterfall,

Gwanye pulled his hand back and licked his fingers clean, "Ummm just as delicious as I remember," He growled, pinning her hips down to the bed and grabbing her thighs holding them apart as he moved closer and blew across her arching clit, "Now... I am so very hungry from my ride, that little taste has only made me feel worse." He smirked, "So you know what that means?"

"you... you must..." She trembled with excitement,

"Humm I must feast little bird," He purred before burning his head between her legs...

639 notes · View notes

birdiewritessometimes · 3 months ago

Note

ellooo I love your writing smm and I was hoping I could request a Mattheo riddle or Theo Nott x hufflepuff reader (which ever you decide) I feel like you can create a cute fluffy story with either of them being so soft for the reader (or whatever direction you want to take this towards)ㅤ ᵕ̈

Magical Matchmaker

A/N: Hii! Thank you so much for reading my writing and liking it <3 I’m sorry for the wait, I actually started this one before you sent in the request and it fit perfectly together. I’m sorry you had to wait so long for it though but I hope I’m making up for it in length! I shit you not, Archie is based on my cat and he loved toe bean massage! Also I promise I don’t hate Draco he’s just a perfect character to show how the slytherin boys values people I guess. Also, also, Slytherin boys + astronomy tower = <3 Btw its always Cormac who is an annoying ass…

Archie is my first cute little oc, he might make appearances later on in other stories since i love him so much <3

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!reader

Themes/warnings: Fluff, fighting, blood, smoking, that’s all I could think of, please let me know if there’s more

Word count: 7500-ish

Please do not copy or translate my work!

The soft rumble of the train could be heard as you walked through the train corridor. You were holding your cat, Archimedes, in your arms. The black cat was comfortably asleep as you searched the compartments for your friends, Hannah Abbott and Megan Jones. The train had just left the station around five minutes ago, yet you can’t seem to find your friends anywhere. Archimedes awoke when you stopped at one compartment to peer inside for your friends. Inside sat a group of boys, known for starting fights, talking back to teachers and just being trouble in general, most students were wary of them. They were in your year, all in Slytherin. In your time at Hogwarts, you had managed to stay clear of their radar. That all came to change the moment Archimedes jumped out of your arms and sneaked into the loud boys’ compartment. Your blood ran cold when you saw him jump up in one of the boys’ lap. You prepared yourself to go in there to apologise but you stopped when you saw how the curly haired boy gently petted Archimedes’ head, a smile on his face.

“Oi, where did that cat come from?” One of the boys, you recognised him as Blaise Zabini, he was known as a flirt, asked. The boy who held your cat in his lap was Mattheo Riddle, he was known as the intimidating, scary boy most people feared. The other two boys were Theodore Nott, the quiet one, and Lorenzo Berkshire, the sweet one in the group. You saw how Lorenzo leaned over to pet Archimedes.

“He is so cute.” He said as he also petted your cat. You saw how Mattheo swatted his hand away a playful frown on his face.

“Hey, he came to me, back of Enzo.” You heard him mutter irritably before continuing to pet Archimedes’ head gently. The scene in front of you made you smile; it almost made you forget who you were staring at. They looked so innocent as they surveyed Archimedes. Mattheo had a soft smile on his face while Lorenzo had a mischievous one, continuously trying to pet him. Theodore was chuckling at the scene while Blaise was grinning widely. Realising the situation you gently knocked on the door before sliding it open so you could stand in the doorway. All four boys snapped their eyes towards you, tearing their eyes from your cat. You cleared your throat awkwardly.

“Hi, uh, I’m sorry, Archimedes, my cat sneaked in here…” You trailed off, feeling more awkward by the second as they just stared at you, Mattheo still petting your very content cat’s head.

“Y/n, right? I didn’t know you had a cat.” Theodore cleared his throat, his eyebrows furrowed. You let out an awkward chuckle, the whole situation made you feel out of place. Like you had intruded and, in some way, you suppose you did. But you didn’t want to lose Archimedes on the train, he was a pain to find again, since he was deaf.

“Yep, since first year.” You confirmed, you could feel an amused smile make its way to your face at the awkward situation. They were looking at you like they have never seen you before, or like you were some sort of alien. Your eyes travelled to the curly haired boy who you’re your cat. He looked like he would rather die than to let you have Archimedes back.

“Y/n? You’re a Hufflepuff right?” Lorenzo asked, giving you a kind smile, probably trying to ease the weird atmosphere, which you returned.

“Yep, also since first year.” You chuckled, making him chuckle too. You saw that the rest of the group smiled at you too, except for Mattheo.

“How do we know you’re telling the truth that he really is yours?” Mattheo asked suspiciously, you let out a chuckle again at him. His eyebrow shifted upwards as he gave you a suspecting look. You nodded at your cat’s collar.

“Check his collar, his name, my name and my address are on there.” You said, now feeling amused at the situation. It seemed like Mattheo was trying to stall giving him back to you. You saw how Mattheo gently checked the tag on Archimedes’ collar, a frown on his face.

“Archimedes, y/n l/n, 71 The Green, London.” He mumbled, a sulking look on his face, this made you let out a giggle. Deciding to tune in with your kindness, that Hufflepuffs valued so much, you decided to let him cuddle Archimedes for the train ride.

“You’re welcome to cuddle him if you’d like, but do you mind if I sit then? I don’t want to lose him.” You said, but you realised your mistake as the words left your mouth. Mattheos eyebrows shot up in a questioning manner.

“No, wait, I didn’t mean that I don’t trust you with him, it’s just that he is, uh, deaf, so I don’t want to leave him on the train.” You rambled, feeling more embarrassed by the second. Mattheo’s face went back to normal, as he didn’t bother to answer you. You saw how Lorenzo and Theodore made space for you to sit next to them, to which you smiled and sat down. You saw how Mattheo lifted your cat, so they were face to face, Archimedes purring loudly.

“So, you’re deaf huh? And you have a silly name.” He muttered to your cat.

“Hey, my son doesn’t have a silly name! It’s cute.” You said defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest. This made the group chuckle and Mattheo to look past Archimedes and at you, an eyebrow raised in mock questioning.

“Damn, I didn’t know that you were a MILF, y/n.” Blaise said, a smirk on his face.

“Yeah- wait- I- no, what?” You stuttered out, completely taken aback by his comment. Mattheo let your cat back down on his lap before he whacked Blaise over the back of the head with a loud ‘smack’.

“Behave.” He muttered irritably.

“Don’t mind Blaise, his mum dropped him on his head when he was a baby.” Theodore mumbled from beside Lorenzo on the stuffy train seat that you now shared. You gave him a grateful smile as a reply before letting out a short laugh at his comment.

“Where did the name Archimedes come from anyways?” Mattheo asked nonchalantly, the question made a blush rise on your cheeks.

“Oh, my favourite film when I was little was the muggle film about king Arthur, it’s called the sword in the stone. Well, Merlin’s owl was called Archimedes in the movie, and I thought it was cute.” You explained which earned you a chuckle from the group.

“So not even like from the famous muggle guy? But like from a film?” Lorenzo said, a teasing tone in his voice. The question made you let out an embarrassed chuckle.

“Well, I was never into maths when I was little, just magic I guess, I failed maths every year I had to take it in muggle school.” You shrugged, not even thinking about the confession you just made.

“So, you’re muggleborn?” Theodore asked lightly, but the question was loaded, considering what some people, mostly Slytherins, thought about muggleborns. You felt slightly nervous due to the fact that you know whose son sat in front of you. Now you have never heard him utter as much as one bad word against muggleborns, but he did surround himself with pureblood wizards.

“Uh, yeah, that a problem?” You asked, suspicion in your voice at the question. Theodore must have realised his mistake because his eyes widened in panic.

“Wait, no, of course not, we don’t care, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean the question like that.” He apologised.

“Don’t worry, we’re not like Malfoy, we don’t care who your family is.” Lorenzo added, a gentle smile on his face. You looked at Blaise and Mattheo who nodded, a gentle expression on Mattheo’s face. It took you aback at first before a small smile broke out on your face.

“Good, because I think we will see a lot more of each other.” You said, brightness back in your voice. The boys gave you a look of confusion.

“Because Archimedes obviously likes you.” You said as a matter of fact, an answer to their questioning looks. They let out a chuckle and hummed in agreement. The boys then started talking about their summers on the ride back to school. They discussed what they did during summer and the excitement for the quidditch season to begin. At one point Blaise asked you to switch places, Lorenzo and Theodore was going to show him pictures from the national quidditch match that they went to during the summer. As you sat next to Mattheo you could feel his cologne hit your nose, he smelled rich with a hint of cigarettes and mint. Archimedes was asleep on his lap, but when you sat down your cat stretched out, so he was laying on his side and had one paw on your leg. With a small smile you massaged his paw. You heard Mattheo let out a chuckle making you look up at him. He was looking at your cat, amusement in his eyes.

“He is really something isn’t he?” He muttered as he stroked the sleek black fur on Archimedes side. His silver rings contrasting against the dark fur on your cat.

“He is the best.” You answered softly as your eyes shifted from his face to his warm brown eyes. You had never really realised how attractive he was before. But when he had this soft half smile on his face and that soft look in his eyes when he looked at Archimedes made you realise why half the female population at school have or at least have had a crush on him. His eyes snapped to yours as you were studying his face. A crease appeared between his eyebrows as he surveyed you.

“You’re not scared of me.” It wasn’t a question. His statement made you smile, because if someone asked you how you felt about Mattheo before this you would’ve said that he made you nervous at least. But now he didn’t. You shook your head at his question.

“Why, should I be?” You asked in a teasing voice. You saw a teasing smile, an actual full smile, make its way onto his face.

“I don’t think so, but then that wouldn’t go with the whole 'scary aura' I have going on.” He answered with a small chuckle. He did quotation marks around the two words most of the student body used to describe him. You could feel a grin break out on your face at his smile.

“So, he can smile.” You teased, what gave you the confidence you don’t know, maybe it was the relaxed atmosphere in his group of friends or was it just the fact that he smiled at you. It was a testament to the fact that he wasn’t always scary or serious.

“Shut up.” He muttered as he tried to supress his smile, but to no avail.

“Oh, I’m afraid I can’t do that. You’ll notice if you get to know me that I am a yapper, I yap about everything.” You beamed up at him. He let out a chuckle at that.

“Really, about everything huh?” He asked, a smirk on his face to which you let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, everything, like the fact that cats are obviously so much better than owls, and that quidditch is a weird sport and that my favourite colour is copper, that my favourite condiment is ketchup, and, oh you’re laughing at me, but I can go on all night.” You giggled as Mattheo let out a chuckle at your ramble.

“Wait, you think quidditch is weird?” He realised what you had rambled about, you nodded at his question.

“Why?” he asked, a puzzled look on his face. The two of you were so engrossed in your conversation that you stopped noticing what the others talked about, they had switched their topic to the two of you.

“What do you recon? I think he likes her.” Blaise muttered to Lorenzo who was sitting in the middle.

“She obviously likes him, look at how she is looking at him.” Lorenzo added.

“Do you think the cat knows something about this, I mean he led her to him in the first place?” Theodore asked suspiciously. At that moment Archimedes lifted his head from Mattheo’s hand, just as if he had heard him, and blinked slowly at the three boys on the seat opposite him.

“No fucking way.” Blaise said to which Lorenzo and Theodore nodded stunned.

“What’s not weird about quidditch?” You asked at the same time as the conversation between the other took place.

“What’s weird about it?” Mattheo countered.

“It’s a sport you play on broomsticks, it has no time limit, you beat balls at each other, come on Mattheo, you have to admit that that’s weird.” You gestured as you tried to get your point across.

“Oh, I think that’s perfectly normal.” He argued which made you let out a laugh.

“You’re only saying that for the arguments sake.” You said with a laugh, Mattheo let out a laugh of his own at this.

“Are we having our first argument as friends?” He asked, a teasing note in his voice.

“Hmm, I don’t know, are we friends?” You teased back. Mattheo reacted to this by placing his hand over where his heart is, in mock hurt.

“You wound me, love.” You felt a blush rise to your cheeks in record time at the nickname.

“I- uh, what?” You let out in your flustered state as your eyes shifted from his to your cat that still laid in his lap. You felt a finger poke your cheek.

“You’re cute when you blush, princess.” He said, really stressing the princess-part. You swatted his finger away, despite your flustered state.

“Oh, shut up Mattheo.” You laughed and what you didn’t see, but the three boys opposite you in the compartment noticed was the gentle smile on Mattheo’s face as he watched you laugh. It was softer than it usually was. The cold stare and frown that his face usually consisted of were replaced by a soft smile and gentle eyes. The same look he had when he saw Archimedes for the first time just hours ago. Time went by quickly on the Hogwarts express and before you knew it you found yourself on the platform moving along with the boys towards the carriages. As you walked, Archimedes in your arms once again, you tried looking for your two friends. You couldn’t see them anywhere on the platform. You felt an arm around your body as you walked, you looked to the side and found Mattheo by your side, leading you through the crowd to follow his friends.

“Come on, you can find your friends at the castle, when there isn’t that much chaos.” He muttered in your ear. You felt the blush rise to your cheeks once again, this time because of his proximity. Before you knew it you reached the carriages and you felt Mattheo’s warm hand on your back as you climbed up the small steps, Archimedes still in your arms. You felt hot, despite the cold evening air that swept around you.

“You okay y/n?” Theodore asked when he saw your face. The carriage started moving towards the castle after Mattheo had entered.

“Yeah, you look a bit red, are you cold?” Lorenzo asked, genuine concern on his face. If he only knew that you were feeling everything but cold. You dared to take a peak at Mattheo who was wearing a small smirk on his face.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You cleared your throat and directed a grateful smile at Theodore and Lorenzo before directing a glare at Mattheo, who sent you a wink in return. The rest of the ride up to the castle consisted of the boys talking loudly with each other. Playful insults and banter were thrown around along with the occasional joke which made the atmosphere lively and fun. As the carriage came to a stop before the entrance the boys all got out. When it was your turn you saw that Mattheo was standing by the entrance, ready to help you down. You sent him a grateful smile but before you could even as much as take a step down, he had grabbed you around the waist and swiftly lifted you down to the ground leaving you speechless. You could hear how the others tried to keep in their laughter as they saw your stunned face.

“I- they- they should call you the flirty one, not Blaise!” You let out when you came back to your senses, this was the thing that made the others burst out laughing, Mattheo full on grinning at you.

“What? I’m just being friendly.” Mattheo said innocently making you roll your eyes playfully.

“Oh, shut up, darling.” You said the pet name sarcastically before you slowly started to make your way into the castle, leaving the boys outside.

“See you later, love!” Mattheo shouted after you, a grin on his face, his friends still chuckling. When you entered the castle, you let Archimedes go to do some exploring, knowing that he will always be in your bed by night. You entered the great hall and saw the usual enchanted ceiling that hovered over the four house tables. The Hufflepuff one was one of the tables in the middle, next to the Slytherin table on the left and the Ravenclaw table on the right. Right next to the Ravenclaw table was the Gryffindor table. You found your friends; they were seated in the middle of the table. You ran over to them with excitement as they stood up and embraced you in a group hug. Hannah was on the Hufflepuff quidditch team as you and Megan chose to focus more on your academics. Not that Hannah wasn’t good in school, she was brilliant, she just chose to focus more on sports. The three of you sat down and caught up with each other, about how your summers were and what subjects you were excited about. After the sorting you talked, laughed and ate with your friends, completely forgetting to fill them in on your train ride here. With your bellies full you and your friends made your way down to the Hufflepuff common room and to your dorms. You were quiet with tiredness as you got ready for bed. You were out before your head even hit the pillow, Archimedes comfortably asleep on the extra pillow on your bed by your head.

The first day back went by quickly and before you knew it you were doing your homework in the great hall with Hannah and Megan as you waited for dinner. Archimedes were sitting on the bench next to you, extremely interested in the movements of your quill. You were working on an essay for defence against the dark arts, two rolls of parchment on how to identify and protect yourself from a kelpie, a water demon who looks like a horse. While you were thinking of how to write your next paragraph you looked up from your work. Your eyes searched the room, like they seemed to do automatically since you’ve been back, until they met the copper brown eyes of Mattheo. You have found yourself looking for him in every room you entered since you met him. You sat there looking at each other for a moment. You sent him a soft smile, which he replied with one of his soft looks. You felt a blush rise to your cheek as you broke your eye contact, just after you saw the slight smirk on his face. It seemed like Archimedes noticed Mattheo too, because with a sound that sounded like a pigeon he jumped off the bench and dashed over to Mattheo and his friends. You smiled when you saw how your cat head butted Mattheo’s arm, begging for attention. You saw how Mattheo smiled and lifted your cat up on the table so he could pet him easier while he talked to his friends. Archimedes looked at you for a long while before curling up in front of Mattheo.

Over the next couple of days you noticed that whenever Mattheo was close by Archimedes would run to him, begging for attention. All while staring at you. You assumed it was because he really liked the boy, but you couldn’t lie, it hurt a little that the cat you nursed since he was a kitten chose a boy he had just met over you. It was Friday night, after dinner, you were relaxing in your dorm when your cat tried to get you to follow him, so you did. Archimedes was walking hurriedly along the corridors of the castle. He was leading you up multiple stairs, through passageways and along corridors. Soon enough you found yourself at the foot of the stairs that led up to the astronomy tower. You looked suspiciously at your cat who had started to climb the stairs.

“Archie, are you sure about this? It feels like you’re trying to trick me.” You muttered but started to walk up the stairs anyway. You followed your cat up the stairs in silence but when you neared the top Archimedes started running up the stairs.

“Archie, wait!” You shouted, as if he could hear you. When you reached the top of the stairs you stopped. There was Mattheo standing by the rail, curls windswept, looking cozy in a sweater and your cat was stroking his body along his legs. Mattheo was smoking a cigarette as he looked at your cat stunned, before shifting his eyes to you.

“How did he know I was here?” He asked you, confusion in his voice. You looked at him bewildered.

“I have no idea; he dragged me out of my dorm for this.” You said, confusion in your voice too. Mattheo beckoned you to come closer and your body moved before you could think.

“Could you hold this for me?” He asked as he stuck his cigarette out for you to hold. You took it awkwardly and held it between your index and thumb as Mattheo removed his sweatshirt. You saw how he folded up the material and placed it by the castle wall. In an instant Archimedes was lying on it, looking extremely content. You felt a soft smile form on your face when you watched how the boy cared for your cat.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You said softly as you stared at the boy in front of you. He let out a chuckle as he took his cigarette back.

“I take it that you don’t know that your cat seems to be obsessed with my sweaters, I’ve found him in my sweatshirt drawer like three times this week.” He said with a chuckle. You let out a startled laugh

“What? No, I didn’t know, I’m so sorry Mattheo, I don’t know what has gotten into him.” You said apologetically. Mattheo waved your apology away.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m quite fond of him.” He admitted.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed…” You muttered, reminded of the fact that your cat seemed to have a new favourite person. Mattheo raised an eyebrow as he took a drag of his cigarette, a silent question in the air.

“It’s just, he seems to be obsessed with you, and it hurts because I was the one who fed him with a bottle when he was a kitten.” You let out with a pout. Mattheo let out a laugh before throwing his arm over your shoulders, dragging you into him. You didn’t register what was happening as he squeezed you, sort of like a half hug, but with your face in his chest. His warmth surrounded you along with the scent of his cologne mixed with the smoke from the cigarette.

“I’m sure he loves you the most, you’re still his mum you know.” Mattheo said softly, his arm still around your shoulders, holding you close. You looked up at him with big eyes, he had a small smirk on his handsome face as he took another drag of the cigarette. Your eyes travelled down to his hand and then down his exposed arm. That’s when you noticed the goosebumps on his skin and your eyes snapped back to his.

“Is the reason why you’re holding me like this because you’re cold?” You asked suspiciously. Mattheo let out a startled chuckle.

“What, no? You looked cold, so I thought you would like a hug.” He said, his voice slightly higher than his usual smooth voice.

“Liar!” You said, a laugh escaping you as you pointed an accusing finger at him. He put out his cigarette, tossing the butt over the railing before letting both of his hands find your waist inside the zip up hoodie you were wearing while letting out a chuckle.

“I’m not! Now you seemed to enjoy this last time.” He said, his voice smooth as he looked straight in your eyes. He was obviously hinting at when he ‘helped’ you down from the carriage, you were determined to not fold this time.

“Don’t try to deflect this to me, Mattheo.” You said, a grin on your face, you saw how a smile appeared on his face too. Your hands found their place on his chest as the two of you stood there, smiling at each other. If you thought about it, it was kind of weird, you had only known each other for a week, but then again you have been classmates since first year so maybe it wasn’t that weird that you now stood here, in his embrace, staring up in his beautiful copper-like eyes.

“You know, Theo said something that sounded something along the ramblings of a mad man the other day when we found Archimedes in my room.” He said lowly, careful not to ruin the moment.

“What did he say?” You breathed out.

“He said that your cat was trying to get us together.” He mumbled, his eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips briefly. Your breath got caught in your throat for a moment, before his eyes met yours again.

“You’re right, he did sound like a mad man.” You mumbled back, your own eyes wandering his beautiful face. Because if you had to describe him with one word it had to be beautiful. Your eyes wandered from his eyes to the scar on his nose, to his pink lips, to his jaw, back to his eyes, paying extra attention to the scar that ran across his eyebrow. You felt breathless as the wind carried his cologne to your nose, the smell of cigarettes intensified from the one he just had. You felt how his hand traced shapes on your back, right over the fabric of your sleepshirt and you thought your brain stopped working for a moment.

“Theo didn’t sound like a mad man, Theo was right.” The voice of none other than Theodore broke the spell between the two of you, both of you jumped back, as if you were burned, “Please tell me that you guys saw that?” Theo asked Lorenzo and Blaise who was standing beside him at the top of the stairs.

“Yep.” Lorenzo said.

“Clear as day.” Blaise added before looking around, “And look, Archimedes is here, what a coincidence.” He added sarcastically.

“You guys sound very paranoid; he is just a normal cat.” You said with a laugh, after you had collected yourself from what ever had been going on with you and Mattheo. You leaned against the cold railing on the astronomy tower.

“You don’t think it’s a little weird how obsessed he is with Mattheo?” Lorenzo asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Hey, what do I know, maybe he likes his energy, or I don’t know, his cologne maybe, it is good by the way,” you added, nodding to Mattheo who chuckled, “or he is just a weird cat who makes weird decisions.” You shrugged. The three boys looked at you for a moment in silence.

“Nah!” They all let out making you giggle.

“So, you would rather believe that he is some magical matchmaker?” You asked, disbelief mixed with amusement laced your voice. You heard Mattheo chuckle from beside you. The response consisted of various agreeing mumbles.

“So, what were you two doing before we came here?” Blaise asked while wiggling his eyebrows at the two of you. You felt a blush rise to your cheeks in embarrassment, because what were you doing? What would’ve happened if you weren’t interrupted? The thoughts made your blush intensify.

“I- we- we were, uh… oh look at the time, I got to get to bed, we have class tomorrow.” You rambled while going to pick up Archimedes and get out of there, the embarrassment filling you up. You heard chuckles and when you turned to walk away you came face to chest with Mattheo.

“Now where are you going, princess?” He asked, a teasing smirk on his face.

“Uh, to bed?” It came out like a question more than an answer.

“I bet Mattheo would die to join her.” You heard Blaise mutter to the others who burst out in quiet laughter. If Mattheo heard him, he didn’t let on. You bit your lower lip, as an attempt to stifle the embarrassment but also the giddiness you were feeling.

“Darling, it’s Friday, we don’t have class tomorrow.” He said slowly, his smirk growing into a whole grin when he saw that it dawned on you. You heard the others chuckling loudly at you, making you send a glare at them. They stopped laughing as they put their hands up in mock surrender. You nodded at Mattheo and put Archimedes down on Mattheo’s sweatshirt again. You ended up staying with them for a while, after the embarrassment subdued. You noticed that if you weren’t counting Mattheo, you had the most in common with Theo. Despite him thinking that your cat was some magical match maker. They were all really funny and you were really grateful for being able to see this side of them. You and Theo would gang up on Mattheo, poking fun at him through the night, Enzo and Blaise joining in from time to time. After a couple of hours, you started to feel tired, Archimedes had moved from the spot in Mattheo’s sweater to your lap, making you feel loved by your cat again. Mattheo bumped your shoulder when you stifled your like 10th yawn for the evening. You looked at him with a small smile before looking around at the others.

“I’m sorry boys, I’m too tired,” you yawned, “I’m going to bed.” You said with a sleepy smile on your face. They nodded understandingly. You stood up, Archimedes was asleep in your arms, like usual. The boys all said their various ‘good nights’ to you, but Mattheo rose to his feet and followed you to the stairs. You stopped at the top of the stairs.

“You don’t have to walk me back, I’ll manage.” You smiled at the boy before you as you placed what you thought to be a grateful hand on his arm. Mattheo looked like he wanted to say something, balling his hand into a fist before releasing it again and again. You furrowed your eyebrows in concern.

“Are you okay, Mattheo?” You asked gently. He let out a breath before looking you directly in the eye.

“Yeah,” he let out another breath, “just get back safe, okay?” He said before letting his hand brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His hand rested on the side of you neck before he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, right by your hairline. You think your brain stopped working and your heart went into overdrive. You stared at him with wide eyes, a blush dusting your cheeks from his actions. He was watching you intently for any sign of discomfort. His large, warm hand, calloused from quidditch, was still resting on the side of your neck. He could no doubt feel your rapid pulse. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you finally came to it. You gave him a small smile.

“Yeah, good night.” You let out softly, the smile still on your face. You noticed that a similar smile made its way onto his face as well as he muttered a ‘good night’ back before you started to descend the stairs and make your way back to your dorm. You fell asleep thinking of him, Archimedes sleeping soundly on the pillow next to you. Over the next couple of weeks you realised that the feelings you had for Mattheo weren’t exactly as platonic as you thought they were in the beginning. You had started to hang out with the notorious boys more. You realised that you had developed a crush on the boy one night when the two of you were hanging out in the astronomy tower. The others hadn’t shown up yet, Archimedes were sleeping on the extra sweater Mattheo had brought for him, and you were sitting next to each other, shoulders touching, as he smoked his cigarette. You were joking about Cormac McLaggen, the older Gryffindor had a pompous air about him which the two of you found hilarious.

“And he thinks he’s so much better than everyone, god, I hate him.” Mattheo laughed to which you were laughing along.

“Also, that he totally turns into a douche if you reject him.” You gossiped.

“Really?” Mattheo asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, he asked my friend Megan out last year, she very politely declined, and he called her a bitch and stormed off.” You explained. You saw how Mattheo looked at you with a look between disbelief and irritation.

“He is such a tool, I wish I had a reason to kick his ass.” Mattheo muttered irritably. You let out a chuckle and turned your body fully to him, grabbing his face between your hands, slightly squishing it. His face made you let out a giggle.

“Hey, no need to fight him when you’re already better than him.” You giggled before letting go of his face. You saw a small smile on his face before he took another drag of his cigarette. This was the moment you realised, you liked him more than a friend. Little did you know that about a week after this Mattheo had gotten a reason to kick Cormac’s ass. You were walking with Hannah and Megan to lunch, it was a Friday, now early November. The castle was chilly, and the grounds wet from all the rain. Hufflepuff had beaten Ravenclaw in the first quidditch match a couple of weeks ago. Archimedes had found you while you were walking, and you had scoped your cat up in your arms. When you rounded a corner and into another corridor Cormac stopped you.

“Hi, y/n, do you have a second?” He had asked.

“Yeah,” you turned to your friends, “I’ll see you guys in lunch.” You told them, you assumed he wanted help with herbology, since you had a particular knack for the subject. You turned to Cormac with a smile but before you could say anything Archimedes leapt out of your arms and dashed around the corner you just came from.

“How can I help you, Cormac?” You asked kindly, even if you’d just made fun of him with Mattheo some time ago. He stepped closer to you, closer than comfortable. His strong, overpowering cologne hit your nose, almost making you sneeze.

“What do you say, how about a date? I can take you to Hogsmeade before taking you back to my dorm.” He wiggled his eyebrows. You tried your best not to make a face at his sleazy attempt at asking you out on a date.

“No, I’m sorry Cormac-”

“Come on, it will be worth your while, I’ve heard I’m a very good date.” He pressed on, stepping even closer to you, making your take a step back.

“She said no.” The voice of Mattheo startled you. He was staring Cormac down, his look dangerous. By his feet was no other than Archimedes. You scoped you cat up agian as you shifted your attention back to the tense situation before you. Mattheo looked scary, almost dangerous like this. His fist clenched, his eyes focused on Cormac, like he was some prey, he was clenching and unclenching his jaw.

“Look man,” Cormac lightly clapped Mattheo on his arm before continuing, “this has nothing to do with you, so how about you move along, huh?” what a brave man, you thought because Mattheo’s whole face darkened at this.

“What’s so hard to understand about the word ‘no’?” Mattheo asked, his voice cold and hard. You heard footsteps round the corner and cast a quick look behind you. It was Blaise, Theo and Enzo. It made you feel a bit better. You gently placed a hand on Mattheo’s arm, trying to diffuse the tense situation.

“Come on, Mattheo, let’s just go.” You said softly before turning to Cormac, “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.” You said with the kindest voice you could muster. Then you heard it, it made your blood run cold. Cormac had muttered something under his breath right before straightening up. Mattheo heard it too.

“What did you say?” He asked, anger clear in his voice. Cormac, who wasn’t known for his superior intellect, repeated what he said, louder this time.

“Whatever, who wants a mudblood anyways.” He said, a smug smirk on his face. You felt tears prickle in the corner of your eyes. You hadn’t been called that in a long time. You felt a hand grab your arm, pulling you away from Mattheo, it was Theo. Tears were slipping down your cheeks silently. He rubbed your back in a comforting manner.

“You’re okay, come here, I’m sure Mattheo don’t want you to see this.” He said gently while leading you around the corner and placed himself in your way. The last thing you had seen was how Mattheo had frozen, presumably in anger. Then you heard a thud and a sickening crack. Someone had punched someone. Your eyes widened in panic as you looked up at Theo. Archimedes tried stroking your hand with his head to give you some comfort. Theo looked out from behind the corner.

“Don’t worry y/n, Mattheo is fine, he usually is.” Theo said, reassuringly while you could hear thuds and grunts repeatedly. You felt sick to your stomach with worry, and you tried to comfort yourself by hugging Archimedes closer, he made his usual pigeon sound before he headbutted your face in affection, also effectively drying your tears in the process. Theo let out a small chuckle.

“Will you believe me now that he is some magical match maker? He came and found us and led us here.” You knew Theo just tried to get your mind of the fight that was happening on the other side of the wall, but you let him.

“He did?” You asked softly as you looked into the yellow eyes of your cat.

“Yeah, he sounded panicked as well, I’ve never heard him meow so loud before.” Theo said also looking at your cat. Before you could talk further about the subject the thuds and groans had stopped and Mattheo came around the corner, a frantic look in his eyes. Your eyes searched his frame for injuries, a small cut on his lip and one larger on his eyebrow. He grabbed your face gently, his knuckles bloody and bruised.

“Are you okay, love? Did he hurt you?” He asked, worry evident in his voice. You saw in the corner of your eye how Theo slowly backed away and went around the corner, presumably joining Enzo and Blaise to give you some privacy. You looked at Mattheo a small frown on your face.

“You’re hurt.” You said softly to which Mattheo let out a huff like chuckle.

“That’s not what I asked, darling, are you hurt?” He asked, his voice gentle, but stressing the ‘you’. You shook your head as an answer to his question.

“But you are.” You said, stubbornly, “and is Cormac…” You trailed off.

“I’m fine and he is fine, well, bruised, but fine I guess.” He said, finally giving in. You let out a breath of relief.

“Let’s clean you up.” You said softly before dragging him into the girl’s bathroom that was just down the corridor.

“You know this is the girl’s bathroom, right?” He said suspiciously as you wetted some paper to clean up his cuts.

“Yeah, and I’m a girl.” You said as if it was obvious. Archimedes, who you had let down to wet the paper was sitting and watching the two of you on one of the sinks. Mattheo let out a chuckle. You gently dabbed at the cut in his eyebrow. Your other hand was resting on his shoulder. You felt his hands rest on your waist, just like that time in the astronomy tower. Your eyes looked over his face as you cleaned his cut.

“That was a very stupid thing to do, Mattheo.” You mumbled softly, you felt how he let out a huff like chuckle again, the sound echoing on the tiled walls of the bathroom.

“No one will ever get away with calling you shit like that. Now he and everyone else know that you’re off limits.” He muttered, some anger still left in his voice. You stopped what you were doing and looked, really looked, at him. His jaw was still tense, those copper-brown eyes that you liked so much still had shadows in them. You put down the damp paper on the edge of the sink before gently cupping his face in your hands.

“Hey, I’m fine, you’re fine, mostly. Thank you, for what you did, I just don’t like seeing you hurt.” You said softly, your thumbs gently stroking his cheekbones. His eyes immediately softened as they met yours. His hands squeezed your waist in an affectionate manner, the butterflies in your stomach running wild. He was looking at you intently, his Bambi eyes scanning your face, quickly stopping at your lips before returning to your eyes.

“To be honest I saw red the moment I saw him so close to you but when he said that,” He paused, closing his eyes as if he was remembering something painful, “I wanted to rip him apart. I don’t think I have a right to say you’re off limits to others, you’re not even mine, but I couldn’t stop myself from threaten him to stay away.” You had no idea where his honesty came from, but his admission made a gentle smile appear on your face.

“What?” He asked, when he saw your smile. You felt brave enough to snake your hands around his neck as you stood on the tips of your toes.

“But I am yours Mattheo, I’ve been for a while.” You mumbled lowly your own eyes flickering to his pink lips, the bottom one having a cut from the fight that had just happened.

“What?” He breathed out, his hands squeezing your waist once again as he simultaneously pulled you closer, so that you were flush against him. You nodded, a big smile on your face.

“Fuck, princess, you can’t just say shit like that and not expect me to kiss you.” He muttered, his face now considerably closer. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, you could count each individual eye-lash on his eyes from how close you were.

“Maybe I want you to.” You muttered before you closed the gap between the two of you. He kissed you back immediately. The kiss was slow and passionate and tasted slightly like iron as your hands gently raked through his hair. His hands ran over your back and waist, exploring every curve before finding their place low on your hips. His lips were soft and gentle as he tried to convey every feeling he had towards you through the kiss. You gently pulled on his hair, earing a groan from him, making you smile into the kiss. Finally, you had to break apart for air, but your faces stayed close.

“Does this mean I get to threaten people to stay away from you?” You asked teasingly, once you caught your breath from the kiss. Mattheo let out a chuckle before nodding. But before either of you could say or do anything else, the familiar sound of Archimedes could be heard. He walked over to you and headbutted both of you in affection. You let out a chuckle.

“You know what, I recon Theo was right about him.” Mattheo said with a chuckle before kissing you again.

#harry potter #slytherin boys #x reader #fan fiction #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x hufflepuff!reader #slytherin x hufflepuff #hufflepuff reader #fluff #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you

415 notes · View notes

e-nonsense · 4 months ago

Note

Congrats on getting 2k followers!

I would like to request hydrangea (srry if I got it wrong, my memory sucks) + string + "wish you loved me just as much as you loved her (kory)" !

LOVER OF NOT MINE

pairing. dick grayson x reader

warning. angst

prompts used. “wish you loved me just as much as you loved her.”

you could see the difference in the way he looked at you and her. dick could try to deny it, promise you that he and kory were done, but god you could see through him. the stupid looks of pity that his friends sent your way.

and that’s when the doubts started forming in your mind. how could you compare to her. kory was a princess, from another planet. an alien princess and you… you were just you.

a normal person, who lives a normal life. no vigilante tendencies, you had your load of trauma but who doesn’t?

was it you? were you too boring for him? too normal?

this “outing” as he’d called it had confirmed everything you were feeling. he’d dragged you along against your will, you hadn’t wanted to come to this stupid vigilante/superhero/anti-hero get together at some bar.

the second you’d arrived he kissed your cheek to make his way to kory, her eyes lit up at the sight of him as they hugged, his hands lingering on her hips a lot longer than they ever did yours.

what were you going to do now? you didn’t know anyone here, so you sat at the free spot at the end of the bar, alone and disappointed. it’d been half an hour now, and he hadn’t even spared a glance in your direction yet, too busy listening to whatever stupid nonsense was coming out of kory’s mouth.

honestly you looked too pretty to be left behind like this, you wanted to just go home. you didn’t have the car keys though, dick insisted that he drive the two of you there.

maybe that was his plan, keep you trapped here, watching him and kory so you’d know where you stood in this relationship. you felt that lump in your throat get heavier, you couldn’t walk home. not in fucking bludhaven, this place was nearly as bad as gotham — wait, they’re leaving.

together?

you froze in your seat as they walked past the bar, he’d forgotten you were here, you could tell by the way his eyes focused on her completely.

you should’ve stayed home. guess you’re gonna be walking home after all.

people didn’t pay you any mind as you slipped past them and out onto the chilly streets where you could catch a glimpse of dick’s car speeding away from the bar.

you felt sick. scared and sick. bag clutched as you walked tensely, head low to avoid anyone’s gaze. the dark made the city look a little peaceful, but everyone knew that was far beyond the truth.

you distantly hear a few whistles calling out to you but those men make no move to pursue you either. so you kept walking until you reach the entrance of you apartment building, you stepped in as quickly as you could, pressing the elevator button a few times, impatiently.

the door dinged as it opened, you shivered as you stepped in, pressing the button of the floor you lived on, it was times like this you were glad you hadn’t moved in with dick.

you didn’t bother changing when you crawled into bed, kicking your heels off at the door, greeted by your cat meowing at you and following you to bed.

at least someone was acknowledging you, your little companion jumped up onto the bed, taking the side dick usually would most nights with a purr as he tried to get as close to you as possible.

you couldn’t hold it back anymore, silent tears falling down your cheeks as you curled up. eventually, sometime past 11pm you passed out. you had exhausted all your tears and just given up.

it’s only at 1am that dick comes looking for you. his key to your place jingled softly enough to not stir you as he opened the door, barging through and going straight for your bedroom, the noise startling both you and your cat awake.

you let out a noise something between a scream and a cry and your cat hisses as the sight of dick. he’d never liked your ‘boyfriend’ in the first place, maybe you should’ve trusted his instincts.

“sweetheart, i’m so sorry.”

the apology is the first thing that slipped from his tongue and it all came back to you.

“i lost track of time and—”

“where were you?” you ask, throat sore from your crying, he could see the dried tear stains on your cheeks and he knew he’d messed up past what was forgivable.

he’d left you alone, in a room of strangers with no way home.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, eyes dropping to the floor and you notice the disheveled way his hair sat, collar covered in the same shade of lipstick kory had been wearing, and if you looked close enough there’d be a matching stain on his lips.

you didn’t need this. “get out.”

you gave him no time to argue, standing up and shoving a box of his stuff into his arms. things you’d collected in your state of sad anger, the box contained his clothes, random little trinkets he’d brought along, gifts he’d brought you — never anything expensive just stuffed animals and cards.

“can’t we talk about this?” he pleaded and failed as shoved him further.

“no, if you want kory so badly. then have her, but don’t drag me along to play the fool.”

he winces at your retort, shame settling in his bones.

“is it me?” you cant help but ask, “why can’t you love me as much as you love her? wish you loved me just as much as you love her.”

he’s starting to really wish he’d left the first time you asked — told him to.

“you’re perfect,” he whispers, “but she… me and her, we..”

“just leave, i don’t want to see you again, dick.”

he doesn’t fight it, he doesn’t have the right anymore does he. his heart sinks when he closes your bedroom door behind him and he can hear the way you break down, trying to keep quiet.

you deserved to know but he’d never tell you, it was never real. you and him, you were just a sweet innocent girl he was using to get his ex back, and it worked. now he’ll move on and leave you to suffer the consequences.

#dick grayson x reader #[📮] asks #enzo writes [📝]#dick grayson #dick grayson angst #nightwing x reader #dick grayson x reader angst #2k followers celebration

643 notes · View notes

hyuny-bunny · 3 days ago

Text

seasons // series

summary: your bestfriend minho just wants you to see desperately in love he is with you

warnings: mentions of sex, past relationships, omegaverse mentions of heat and knots

part i • part iii here

Upon entering your apartment, you make a beeline for the couch plopping down, letting your mind run over everything that had happened. Your last ‘heat’ cycle had been several months ago and you feared what havoc the next cycle would wreck on your body if you didn’t find an alpha who met the basic standards of human decency. Too many guys you had met either by a friend of a friend or via omega finder apps lead to complete and total assholes who had little regard for how a heat cycle made you feel or in worst cases, those who had weird kinks with subservient omegas kneeling at their every whim. You grimaced remembering the one guy who insisted you wear a collar and leash for him… on the first date. Turning over on the couch screaming at the pillow beneath you.

Eventually, you found some strength to sleep in your bed. A quick nap turned into 5 hours, only waking at the buzzing of your phone.

“Hello?”

“Feeling any better?” Minho’s sweet voice echoed through the phone, “Did I wake you up?”

“Feeling better and yes but… my nap was much deeper then I anticipated.”

“Ah sorry, safe to assume you haven’t eaten yet?” Your stomach growled at the question.

“You would be right,” Swinging your legs over the bed to head for the bathroom.

“I have about an hour left in my shift, I’ll come by with food and we can watch a movie yeah?”

Your heart swooned at the idea, you keep your voice level as you respond.

“That sounds amazing, can you get Italian from that place across the street from you?”

“Of course, the usual?”

“Yes, please, I love you, you’re my best friend in the whole world.”

He lets a soft chuckle as he mutters an ‘I know’ before telling you he’d be there in an hour or so. It gave you enough time to settle in for a bath, deep scrubbing your skin, hair, and face till you felt smooth again. You took the time to comb out your hair, picking out a set of clothes for your movie night with Minho because undoubtedly, you always fell asleep together on the couch. He always ended up staying the night but subconsciously you felt more inclined to look nice? No that would be ridiculous, for him to suddenly change his perspective of you because what? You put on the cute black cat patterned pajama shorts that he got you for Christmas accompanied by the matching cat paw socks and the sweater he left out your place one night that you had taken hostage of claiming as your own since it smelled like him…

There’s a gentle knock at the door indicating Minho was here, you open the door to see him wearing a black knit sweater and grey sweats holding a bag of take out. You could see the faintest out line of his c-

“I got your favorite, Carbonara with a Shirley Temple soda, where should I set it down?” He asked as he walked in.

“Coffee table is good, let me grab my laptop,” You said rushing out of the living room into your bedroom to grab the laptop along with a plethora of blankets and pillows.

He waited till you left the room before grabbing the hoodie by your door and rubbing his scent glands all over it. Along with the blanket and pillows set on the couch, he knew that If you even dared to bring someone home tomorrow night, they’d have to work past his scent and mark on every fabric of your place first. He sat down smugly opening the bag of food as you returned oblivious to what he had done in the few moments you were gone. He takes in your appearance, and the clothes you’re wearing, everything is from him, he hides his smirk as you take your place beside him. He watches the way your nose twitches as you take one of the blankets he had just rubbed himself all over.

“Jesus, Minho, did you just run ten miles? All I can smell is you…”

“Ah sorry must’ve been from carrying all the shipments in today, do you want to crack a window?”

“No it’s okay, I don’t mind…”

You really didn’t mind, his scent was warm like vanilla and cinnamon but grounded in something earthy like sandalwood. It brought you a sense of comfort and peace, always making you forget anything you had on your mind allowing you to only be consumed by him and his presence.

The two of you eat, talking about his work and the upcoming classes you had for your master's program. He was a dance major and you were an English literature major, just two people with a love of the arts in different ways. You spent the night watching comedy movies, Minho’s pick, they weren’t his favorite but he loved to hear your loud cackle or the snorts or when you were tired the soft giggles that shook your shoulders. Eventually, you found yourselves entangled in each other on the couch, he laid back bringing you into his arms with your head laid on his chest, when he knew you were asleep based on the soft snores, he rubbed his scent glad into your hair knowing the slightest wind would waft the smell. He should just get off his chest now and profess his undying love, how he’s been in love with you since you two were twelve but he couldn’t in fear he’d lose an entire friendship over it. Rather having you in his life as a friend then not at all was a deep fear of his. But, so was losing you to someone else…

part iii here

#skz smut #skz scenarios #skz hard thoughts #skz imagines #skz x you #skz x reader #hyunjin x reader #leeknow x reader #lee know scenarios #lee know oneshot #lee know x you #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know imagines

336 notes · View notes

whoskimii · 7 months ago

Text

megumi my beloved <3 feel free to send requests!!

⋆౨ৎ˚ notes > megumi x you. fluff!! 'gumi is sick so you take care of him <3 grumpy cat as usual. tell me if i missed anything!! ^^ ౨ৎ warning : you may have butterflies in your belly while reading this!! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

megumi felt weird and he didn't like that. he had been having migraines and had the need to throw up. he was sick.

he hated being sick. of course, who liked feeling bad ? he knew he was going to take care of himself without telling anyone because he hated other people helping him. he didn't need anyone. he had himself, and that was enough for him.

but of course, you were here. and he knew you'd eventually notice his state at some point or another. you'd want to help him. megumi would be lying if he said he didn't want your help. you were the only one he'd accept help from.

but he also didn't want you to get sick, so God forbid you being in the same room as his sick ass. he'd rather be sick twice in a row than contaminating you.

when the door to his bedroom creaked open, he internally cringed. he knew it was you. "hi, 'gumi," you greeted with a little smile on your face. "i—" you stopped as you noticed him, still in bed at two p.m.

you instantly knew something was wrong. megumi ? still in bed ? at two p.m. ? yeah, no, something was definitely wrong.

you approached him, and megumi cringed for the second time. "don't." he murmured. "don't. you'll get sick." your eyes slightly widened. "oh, you're sick... wait."

he frowned as you approached despite him advising you otherwise. you sat beside him and leaned closer. when megumi felt your lips on his warm forehead, he let out a sigh. "i told you not to approach."

you couldn't help but roll your eyes. "i know. i heard, m'not deaf." at your words, megumi scoffed. "yeah ? why did you still approach, then ?" his question was dumb. like, really dumb. "you're sick and you think i'm not gonna take care of you ? silly."

despite his grumpiness, multiplied because of his state, he didn't stop the little smile that pulled at the corner of his lips. he didn't want to. "yeah, i may be silly. but you're even sillier."

you smiled. "maybe. but you love me." megumi scoffed. "i do."

yeah, perhaps he actually needed someone. you.

i need him bark barK (,,>ヮ<,,)!

⋆˚࿔ kimi 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

659 notes · View notes

macfrog · 1 year ago

Text

sweet child o' mine | pt. i

purely just some fun and games putting big grumpy joel miller slap bang in the middle of a romcom. i hope you guys enjoy. dedicated to big sis @mrsmando, who is the light of my life, let herself be completely swept away by this idea into unhinged, whimsical mania with me, and who inspired so many lil details for this story. love u, zhort x

pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader

summary: you strike up a deal to attend a wedding with your neighbor as his date. what could go wrong?

warnings: age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), grumpy!joel initially finds reader mildly infuriating, cursing, alcohol consumption, discussion of a car accident (non-graphic) & dead parents, softdom!joel as per, fingering, handjob, comeplay, spitting, drunk unprotected one night stand, creampie, praise kink, one mention of nausea (but nothing happens, my little emetophobic angels), someone falls pregnant and it's not joel miller i'll tell you that much. honk if you love cats!!!

word count: 9.8k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🩵

It’s just gone seven on a Saturday night when his knuckles rap on your door.

The sun casts tall, angled shapes on your living room wall. Lights the pages before you in a glow of tangerine. Refracts through the glass tumbler on your coffee table and bleeds the amber liquid onto the pale wood surface. Everything lit in some variation of gold, everything bowing its head quietly as the day begins to turn its back.

The house is still. The world feels still, as though transitioning. Like you’re sat in a waiting room, leg bouncing, anticipating something you don’t know to look for yet.

Perfect, comfortable, still – until he’s on your porch. And he knocks again.

You snap your book shut and slide it across the table, nudging the heavy glass. The ice clinks, irritated.

“You mind fastenin’ your…delicates to your clothesline a little better?”

His voice shoulders its way into your hallway before you’ve even pulled the door back enough to see him. Not that you need to see him to know who it is. You’ve lived in Austin three years now and met only one person with a voice as low and toneless as Joel Miller’s. Slung in sarcasm, dripping with disdain. All that.

You cross your arms and slant against the doorframe, unable to mask your amusement. “Excuse me?”

He answers by lifting his left hand. From his pointer finger hang a tiny pair of white panties, lace pattern fluttering in the late summer breeze. You glance over his shoulder as you steal them from his grasp, balling them in your fist.

“Uhuh. They were sitting on my back lawn. I have company tonight, y’know. I can’t have women’s underwear just – lyin’ in my damn yard.”

Your head tilts. Ears prick. “Company? You hostin’ somethin’?”

His shoulders drop with a sigh. “No. I am not hostin’ anythin’.”

“Good. ‘cause I’d want an invite.”

“If I were hostin’, you’d be the last person I would invite. And you know that.”

“Ouch,” you pout, “that hurts, Miller. I watered your plants while you were off visiting your brother last month. They woulda died without me there.”

“And I am grateful to you,” Joel grumbles, “but that doesn’t mean I need those anywhere in view of my kitchen window.” He throws a pointed finger to your elbow, where your panties sit scrunched in your fist.

You look down to the froth of frill spilling between your knuckles, and back up to his dark features – his glower casting a shadow over the hazel eyes and deepening the creases between his brows. You smirk, a realization dawning.

Company – that he doesn’t want seeing a pair of someone else’s underwear.

“You have a date.”

Joel’s tongue flicks across the inside of his cheek. He glances over his shoulder and speaks through his teeth. “No, not a date,” he quietly tells the street.

“But you have a lady comin’ over. Or at least – someone you don’t want seeing these.” You unfold your arms and twirl your fist. The gentle wind lifts the lace.

He grunts. A low hmph. Agreement, you think.

“Sounds like a date.”

He hisses, “’s not a date.”

Your stare doesn’t slip from his. Not when his brows tighten, not when his jaw does, too. Not even when he sucks a breath between gritted teeth. Your smile widens.

Finally, with a sigh, he concedes. “It’s…it’s somebody Tommy ‘n Maria are tryna set me up with. Alright?”

“So – a date.”

“If you don’t –” Joel’s head flicks over to his own driveway at the same time his hand lifts, a pointed gesture you read as – shut the fuck up. “We’re just having a few drinks. Just – hangin’ out.”

“Just hangin’ out,” you repeat, eyes widening. “One-on-one. With some woman who – Wait, Tommy’s in Wyoming. How the hell do he and his wife know someone way the hell down here?”

“From before they moved. And – Maria ain’t his wife. Yet. They’re getting married next month.”

Suddenly the sun reappears over the dark horizon. The evening begins to clear up, make sense again. You lift your chin, nodding.

“Right, right. So, she gonna be your plus one, or…?”

The understanding raises his heckles again. Exasperated, he asks, “How many damn questions are you gonna –? I’m only here to – to return your –” He nods once more to the pale fabric in your hand.

A laugh shoots from your nostrils. “What’s the matter? You don’t like – whatever her name is?”

“Laura.”

“Laura,” you breathe.

“And there ain’t nothin’ wrong with her. She just – she…”

“She…?”

“She has, like, five cats, and it’s just…hair, everywhere. And at their engagement party, she spilled an entire margarita down me. Right down my –” He sweeps a hand down his front, balling his fists again once they reach the hem of his shirt.

Your lips turn, amused. “Five cats. Cat lady Laura. Well. Have fun, I guess. Thanks for these.”

He acknowledges your raised fist with a bashful glance. He’s already halfway down your front steps when he says, “Keep an eye on your laundry from now on,” and strides off back to his own place.

Joel has lived here his whole life. In Austin. You’ve no idea when he moved in next door, just that he was here when you did. You don’t know much about him at all – the fact he even filled you in enough to tell you about his date is shocking enough.

The day you first arrived, U-Haul truck squealing to a halt by the curb, he found himself unlucky enough to be stood in his front yard watering the blond patches of his grass. He saw you struggling to open the rear door of the truck, and with a grumble and a glance across the street for a more eager rescuer, he tossed his hose and came over to help.

He unclicked the heavy latch and pushed the door up with enough ease to put you to shame. And he seemed to feel some obligation when he saw the mass of belongings stuffed in the back, to help you unload them. Didn’t seem overjoyed by the thought, mind you, what with the sigh he let slip when you hopped up and held out the first box.

He indulged you for no more than one hour. Answered every question you had about the neighborhood, dodged every one about himself. He told you about the couple across the street with the newborn baby, told you about your neighbor on the other side who pretends to garden just so she can snoop on everyone else’s business. And as soon as the last box thudded down on your gleaming living room floor, he nodded, and paced back over to his own property.

He's a good guy. You know this much. He’s a dick to you most days, but he’s honest, and he’s kind when you catch him in the right light. He takes deliveries for you when you’re not home; he once drove Diane to the vets when she showed up on his doorstep in the dead of night, Fred the Jack Russell ailing in her arms.

He’s observant. Noticed just this summer the three different plumbers who showed up to your house in the space of two days, and came over as the third guy was leaving – his shining bald head low between his shoulders.

‘s the matter? Joel asked, watching the navy overalls sink into the rusted vehicle.

Kitchen sink’s leakin’. Fuckin’ – nobody can fix it.

He shouldered you out of the way with his then-trademark sigh and left twenty minutes later, your kitchen finally free of the dripdripdrip you’d been plagued with for a week straight.

He’s good. He’s a good neighbor. But, man, is he private.

You’ve never seen the inside of his place. His body blocks it anytime you’re on his doorstep. He has a brother, you know that – though, only since last month, when he asked you to keep an eye on his garden – and you know, now, that the brother is getting married.

You know that he likes country music, know he plays guitar – accidentally. You heard him one day in the spring, when he left his window open and you were lounging by your pool. When he looked out and noticed how you’d angled your sunbed to listen, really listen, he slammed it shut.

You know he’s single and childless and has been for at least the three years you’ve lived next door to him.

You know little fucking else.

The words on the curled pages seep into one another. You’re staring through the book now back in your hands, the shape of your living room blurring around you: the brick fireplace, the still, red light of the TV. The lulling sway of the sheer curtains, pushed like the tides by the air through the open window.

You cross your ankles on the coffee table. Your lips purse. Tongue dabs at the smoky-sweet singe of whiskey on the flesh of your cheeks. From here, you can see the street outside Joel’s house. If – when – Laura pulls up, you’ll know. And you’ll be here to watch. Survey. Observe.

See what kind of woman a guy like Joel Miller takes to his brother’s wedding.

It’s nine fifty-two when she eventually leaves.

She’s been in there two hours and seventeen minutes. Her car – a kind of rotten green Chevrolet with one tail light out – sits patiently out front, like even it can’t wait to help her fucking disappear.

You’re hoisting a swollen black bag down your drive when his porch light flickers on and his front door opens. The glossy plastic exhales as it slumps against the trashcan. You dust your hands. Joel hasn’t noticed you yet.

“…so nice gettin’ to properly know you,” Laura’s crooning, sidestepping as Joel walks calmly down to her car. Ushering her. You hold back a laugh.

“Thanks for comin’,” he says, his voice falling flat in the windless evening. He’s a step ahead of her, like a parent leading their child away from the park. She’s still babbling about his six-string.

“Maybe next time I can hear a little somethin’…” she says, and you know from the way he halts that Joel hears the same questioning tone you do, the way somethin’ curls up at its end.

“Maybe,” he says, curtly. His words curl down. And then nothing else, and Laura – who, now that she’s a little closer, stood on the curb by her car door, you notice has sweeping golden hair which flicks away from her plump cheeks, and bright eyes which dazzle in the dusky glow – is forced to cough up one last chance.

“I gave you my number,” she says, then, “I didn’t get yours?” and this time, it’s definitely a question.

Joel pretends to pat down his pockets. “I musta left my phone in the house.”

You can’t help it. A scoff bursts from your lips. But he still doesn’t look over.

“Well,” Laura tugs on the handle, “thank you for a lovely evenin’. I’ll hear from ya.”

Joel smiles but puts a hand on the door, like he might slam it shut for her if she tried to backtrack. But she doesn’t. She swings both legs in, pulls it closed, and the engine spurts to life.

As she pulls off, Chevrolet jolting a little, you notice the bright yellow bumper sticker plastered squint beneath the license plate. You walk silently over to Joel, grass prickly under your socks.

“Honk If You Love…Cats,” you murmur, shoulder brushing off his bicep.

He sniffs. Tightens the grip his arms have on his chest. His eyes are fixed on the one red light, slowly shrinking into the distance. “Don’t even.”

“Good date?”

“I said don’t.”

“She talk much about her cats?”

“Goodnight.”

“Did you ask their names, at least?”

He’s backing up, crossing the dark lawn towards his front steps. He looks you up and down, his lips a flat line. Your sweat shorts. Your bare legs. The tight vest top molded around your breasts. His eyes shoot back up. “No more questions. No more pesterin’ me.”

“Nothin’ about the cats? Seriously, dude?” You lift your arms, grinning after his dark figure, swaggering up the porch steps.

Joel ignores you. He disappears through his front door and the light is snuffed. You slink back up to your house, grateful for the blanket of darkness covering the skip in your step.

Eleven hours later, you’re stood in front of your bedroom mirror.

The day melts against your window. Brilliant blue sky, cradling soft puffs of snow-white clouds. Crows on Diane’s roof cawing, slowly yellowing trees rustling. The bright, hot square across your front where the sun forces her way in.

You turn, taking the loose hem of your sleepshirt in your fingers, and pull it over your body, tossing it to the foot of the bed as you examine the pattern of colors hanging from inside your closet.

You take them one by one, tug them free, slot them back in. Eventually you settle for a gray hoodie, cropped and loose. As you haul it from its hanger, there’s a whine from the wooden cabinet. A squeal. The top shelf rips from either side, dropping to the closet floor and taking the pole with it.

“What the f–? You gotta be fucking kidding me,” you growl, stepping forward to run your fingers along the splintered wood where the nails have ripped themselves free. Four black holes, jagged insides of the closet pricking your fingertips.

The crumple of clothes and hangers sulks up at you pathetically. You fall back onto your bed with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. The fan whirs slowly, scooping your gaze and throwing it in lazy circles.

The closet was old, anyways. Was here when you moved. It’s probably about time you had some new ones built. But fuck, that’s gonna cost. Ripping the old ones out, building them from scratch. The fan pulls your eyes back around to twelve o’clock.

Joel’s a contractor. He could do ‘em. Might give you a discounted rate, too, for all the times you move his newspaper from his front lawn to his doorstep for him. Either that, or he’d want something in return. And what handy skills do you have? You once knitted a scarf for you grandma for Christmas. Maybe not Joel’s thing. You can cook mac ‘n cheese – though one lousy meal isn’t payment enough for an entire wall of solid wood, two panes of glass and two days’ labor.

A favor, maybe. An IOU. What the fuck kinda favor does Joel Miller need–?

You’re hopping over the tiny burst of hedge between his yard and yours before the thought is finished, bending to scoop his newspaper up and slotting it under your arm. He answers just as you lift your fist to pound on his door for a second time.

You slap the rolled paper into his chest. “I have an idea.”

He squints at you in the summer light. “Wh–? Didn’t I tell you not to p–?”

“I’ll be your date.”

Joel blinks.

“I’ll be your date,” you repeat. “I got a wardrobe needs replacing. You do it, for free, and I’ll be your date.”

“Your wardrobe?”

“Crapped out on me this mornin’. I don’t want to pay for some stranger who’ll overcharge me ‘n do a half-assed job. Fix it, ‘n you don’t have to take cat lady Laura to Tommy’s wedding. And you can fix my kitchen sink, too.”

“I already fixed your kitchen sink.”

“It’s back at it. Drippin’ all through the damn night. Drip drip drip –”

“Alright.” Joel’s palm is up again. He does that a lot when he’s talking to you. “Alright. Wardrobe ‘n sink.”

“We have a deal?” you ask, extending your hand.

His chest fills with a thoughtful breath. His eyes scan you up and down, lingering somewhere a little lower than your jaw for a second. And then, the heavy weight of his palm against yours. The tightening of his fingers around your wrist. One sure shake.

Deal.

Two weeks before the wedding, you’re at Joel’s door again.

He’s in a black tee, dark sweatpants slung low on his hips. His hair is damp, fringe still dripping onto his forehead. He runs a hand through the gray-singed brown and stares at the tangle of fabric slung over your arm. “The hell is this?”

“Do you know what you’re wearin’?”

His eyes roll up to meet yours. “Do I know what I’m wearin’?”

You nod. “You’re the best man. Guessing Tommy has you covered?”

“Black suit,” he says, after a beat.

“That’s it? He ain’t got no theme?”

Joel’s head cocks. “I don’t do themes.”

You roll your eyes, ducking under his arm fixed against the doorpost. He manages three words of protest and then shuts the door in resignation, turning to watch as you take his stairs two at a time.

“You are so damn annoyin’, you know that?” his voice echoes behind you.

“You want this date or not, Miller?” you call over your shoulder, following the route through the identical house to your own bedroom – thankful when you nudge the door and it opens to reveal his bland, colorless decor. “Very…gray,” you note, feeling the shadow of him over your shoulder.

You throw the dresses down on his bed, satin and lace and pink and green swimming between one another on his sheets.

“I’m not wearin’ a dress.”

You glower at him. “Ha. We have to match.”

He rubs the towel against the back of his head, drying the dark hair. “Match how?”

“Y’know, your suit ‘n my dress. If I’m your date, we have to match.”

“Already told you. I’m wearin’ a black suit.”

“Right. But, like – what color tie? And can it be any of these colors?” You hold your hands out, surfing over the sea of shades. “Maybe,” you lift your eyebrows, eyes darting to the pale teal color, “this one?”

Joel entertains you for all of five seconds, lifting his cheeks in a false grin before they deflate. “No. Black.”

“Joel.”

He slings the towel over his folded arms, and looks at you plainly. “Black,” he says again, in a tone of voice which sounds something like a door being slammed shut.

Your eyes thin, and you gather your dresses up in one swipe. “Can you just –? Will you make sure that you match my corsage, at least?”

“Why the hell are you so hung up on this?”

“I’m not. I’m just tryna make it believable. You turned down cat lady Laura, this is what you get.”

He sighs, tossing the towel over to his laundry basket. “I will make sure I match your corsage. Happy?”

“Happy. Are you ready?”

“Give me five minutes.”

You huff, head rolling back. “You are so prima-donna, Joel Miller.”

With a sarcastic chuckle, he shoves you out of his bedroom to get dressed. You saunter down his stairs, drinking in every detail of his home as though it’s the only chance you’ll get to see it.

It probably is, when you think about it. You don’t imagine he’ll be inviting you over for drinks anytime soon.

Your eyes move along the wall as you slowly thump down his stairs, thrown from framed photo to framed photo – a black and white photo of a man with a tousle-haired boy on his lap, the kid’s tongue sticking from the corner of his mouth as he wraps his small hand around the neck of a guitar; an out-of-focus Christmas photo, a family of four sat in front of a million multicolored orbs dotted along the branches of a tree; a kid with skinned knees crouched by a German shepherd, his lanky arms hooked around the dog’s thick neck.

One brown suede jacket hangs from a coat peg at the bottom, Joel’s boots sat loose and unlaced beneath. A dark blue blanket draped over the back of his couch. A painting of a moose over his fireplace. Shelves lining one entire wall decorated with carved-wood animals, with more photographs of times gone and memories made, with books and DVDs that lend your fingertip with a heap of white dust as you drag it across their spines.

Enough to paint a picture, not quite enough to show you the colors. The tones, the depth. Despite your best efforts, the man remains a mystery. You settle with the fact he will never be fully revealed.

The creak of his stairs turns your attention from the guitar on the wall around to his tall figure, fixing the collar of the loose flannel over his shoulders.

“You ready?” Joel asks, bending with a groan to reach for his boots.

“Yep,” you reply, leaning forward to glance into his kitchen while his head’s down. The most you manage to observe are the light drapes, the sunlight shooting through and bouncing off of a white-topped island.

“’s go,” he says, keys dangling from his finger.

It takes twenty minutes to drive to Home Depot.

You chitter in Joel’s ear the entire time, reading from his handwritten list of measurements and supplies needed for your new closet. ‘n how do you know this is all enough? Because I know. What if you get started and it’s not? I won’t; it’s enough. You sound so sure. That’s ‘cause I’ve done it before, kid. You take many closetless girls out on fake wedding dates, Joel?

“What’s our story, then?” you ask in the store, fiddling with hanging packets of door hinges while Joel reads thrice over his note. Your hand dives into the bag of M&M’s he begrudgingly bought you at a gas station on the way.

“Our story?” he mumbles back, the words slipping under the mental math you can see going on behind his eyes.

“Like, when people ask how we met. What’s our meet-cute? Both reached for the same door hinge, our hands touched and lit aflame? That kinda thing?”

He doesn’t laugh. Your smile dampens instantly. You kick his boot. “Joel.”

“’sec,” he frowns, “I’m focusing.”

You lean close, pushing on your toes to study the folded slip. His scrawled numbers, the pencil lines blunt and smudged in the creases of the paper.

“Twentytwofortysixeightyninetyfivesixhundredelevenfourtwelvenineteen–”

Joel’s lips seep a maddened sigh; he glances down the aisle like a store attendant might separate you from him if he demanded with enough passion, or maybe if he slipped them a twenty.

“Do you mind?” he barks, his expression a brick wall for your giggles to fall flat to the floor against.

“Home Depot’s your stomping ground. Why the hell do I gotta come watch you pick hinges and timber?”

“Because it’s your damn closet I’m fittin’. Just –” he swipes two packets from their peg, tossing them into the shopping cart, “– come on.”

Joel makes off down the muck-colored floor, the overhead lights reflecting harshly in the shiny surface. The front right wheel of the cart trembles as it rolls, nervously leading the two of you down an aisle lined with cylinder tins and pamphlets on Choosing the right finish.

“So, are your parents gonna be at this wedding?” you ask, taking the cart from Joel’s hands when he drifts off to study a shelf of wood varnish.

His jaw turns towards you, and then back to the tin in his hand. “Yeah. Why?”

“Do I get to meet ‘em?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on. You’re not gonna introduce your date to your mom and dad?”

He scoffs, stealing a handful of candy. “My fake date?”

“They don’t know that. Let me meet Mr. and Mrs. Miller.”

He holds two tins up, offering them to you like answer to your question. “Matt or gloss? Guess it don’t really matter if I’m painting ‘em after.”

“Stop fuckin’ ignoring me. I hate when you do that.”

He leans in close, lowering the matt varnish into the cart. “You think I’m gonna introduce you ‘n your potty mouth to my mom?”

You smirk, eyes narrow. “Dick.”

“Funny. What color paint you want? You said something about duck egg?”

“Planning on repainting my room that color, yeah. Hey, you could –”

He swats your pointed finger away, taking the cart back. “We shook on new wardrobe. No changin’ the deal,” he mutters, wandering over to the rainbow of paint tins on the opposite side of the aisle.

You follow him over, eyes moving from blue over to green, the tins plastered with the fake smiles of families and fluffy pet dogs on the front. “Where are your mom and dad from?” you ask.

“Austin,” he replies, eyes squinting to read the small print on the back of one vibrant shade. You shake your head and guide his wrist back to the shelf, where he obediently sets the heavy tin back. “Never known anywhere else,” he adds. “What about you? Where’s Mr. and Mrs. Potty Mouth?”

“Uh,” you swipe at your nose awkwardly, “they’re up in Allandale. That’s where I grew up.”

“That so? I got a cousin who used to live that way. Used to take my bike up every Saturday. He lived right by this old car shop, all these old classics they used to fix up ‘n resell.”

“Yeah,” you say, “right next to the cemetery, right?”

“That’s the one,” Joel says, lifting paint tins to the light and setting them down again. “They live nearby?”

Your breathing shifts, starts to claw its way up your throat. Your chest heats, skin lighting with an irritating anxiety. “They’re, um,” you gulp, “they’re in the cemetery.”

Joel pauses, letting the tin slip from his grasp with an echoing thud against the wooden shelf which reverberates in your ears a second too long. “Oh,” he says, set on your expression.

“It’s okay – I don’t mind. It’s – it was a car accident, back when I was eight. I wasn’t in it, or anything. I grew up with my grandma. Really, Joel, I don’t mind,” you add, when his face falls and he begins to apologize.

“I had no idea,” he says, and you break the eye contact before you break a fucking sweat.

“’s all good,” you murmur, lifting paint tins of your own now, focusing on deblurring your glossy vision, “I got to buy a big house with the money they left.”

It thaws him a little. He snorts, and taps the lid of the tin you’re holding. “That one’s nice. You, uh – you okay?”

You finally turn back, the world clearer, colors no longer bleeding into one another through sharp tears. “Yeah. I’m fine. We got everything?”

Joel nods, and wheels the cart around. “You can meet her, if you want. My mom. She’s a little full on, but I reckon you can handle her.”

You smile, following him down the aisle.

A month after he delivered your underwear back to you, you’re back on Joel’s doorstep.

Your hand flicks nervously at your side as you wait for him to answer, petals of your corsage quivering. The clip of his footsteps echoes down the stairs, a deep sound growing louder and louder until the door clinks open and you’re separated only by air.

Joel’s eyes scan down your body at the same time yours scan down his. Black suit, sure enough, just without the jacket, and with his tie slung around his loose collar. You both freeze when your eyes meet again, your lips silently forming the shape of an avalanche of words that refuse to sound until Joel’s do.

“Wow, you –”

“– look great, I –”

“– nice dress, is that –? Sorry –”

“– no, I’m sorry, you were – sorry.” A laugh pushes from your throat. “You look – you look good. Scrub up well, ‘n all that.”

“You too. You – Yeah. That’s a nice color, after all. You suit it.” His eyes linger on your chest, your breasts draped in lustrous silk, decorated with the glint of golden jewelry. You notice.

“Thanks. After all?” You snort, and Joel’s exterior seems to crack a little.

He steps back, ushering you in. “Alright,” he says, taking the tote with your change of clothes from your wrist. He watches across the street as you step over the threshold, his fingertips light on your back as you pass by, like little shocks of lightning up your spine. “You know what I meant.”

Your dress swishes around your ankles, your heels clicking along his varnished floor. Your arms lock around your torso, holding your pashmina in place while Joel totters around, tossing his jacket over his shoulders. His shirt stretches from his tight waistband, fabric flattening against his tummy. Your eyes shoot north again when he speaks.

“You mind doin’ my tie? It’ll end up squint if I do.”

“Sure,” you reply, stepping forward.

He buttons the top of his shirt and lifts his chin, staring at the wall behind you as you tug on the black fabric, the silk slipping through your fingers. You steal glances at the trim of his beard, his pink lips beneath the dark bristles; the slope of his nose, the lines on his worn skin.

He’s rough around the edges, sure, a man in his late forties. But there’s something soft about him, something familiar and…comfortable. The pages of a used sketchbook, the lived-in material of a favorite dress.

You pull the knot higher until it’s sitting in the notch below his Adam’s apple, smoothing it down and giving his chest a light pat before stepping back again.

“Thanks, darlin’,” he mumbles, and a spark lights in your chest. “Oh,” he says, holding a finger up and disappearing into the kitchen. He returns with a little white box, holding it out for you to see.

Your cheeks swell, eyes flitting up to acknowledge the proud look on his face. “Very nice. Good job.”

“You can do the honors,” Joel says, handing you the boutonniere by the stem.

You pin it through his lapel, straightening it with a focused glance. Joel’s eyes are on you, watching the flutter of your eyelashes, the tilt of your head. “There,” you whisper, leaning back.

He extends his elbow, something of a smile on his lips. You don’t see it often. It beckons a mirrored expression.

Arm in arm, Joel leads you out to the truck, where he helps you up and waits for you to scoop your dress into the footwell before closing the door. You watch patiently as he locks the front door, slings both your bags over his shoulder and jogs back to the truck, tossing them in the backseat before joining you in the front.

“How come he didn’t send a limousine? Or a Jag, or somethin’?”

“You think we’re made a’ money?” Joel asks, smirking.

You return the smile, wrapping your shawl over your body. “Can I pick the music?” you ask, earnestly, a tinge of sweetness to your voice.

Joel glances over again, reaches behind your headrest to reverse out of the drive. He runs his tongue along his top teeth. “No,” he says.

Three hours later, Tommy and Maria are married.

The wedding is…big. Joel’s family is big. The venue – a rustic hotel suite, fairy lights draped from the rafters, blooming flowers sprouting from crystal vases, lace tablecloths and tied chair cushions and wax dripping from thick, naked candles – is big.

Joel’s been good about it – that friendly neighbor you see all too little has been kicked into high gear. He delivered you by hand straight to his mom – a small woman with silver hair neatly twisted into an updo at the back of her head – who took your hand and held it tightly all the way to your seats.

Kind and warm, she asked where you were from, how you met Joel, how long you’d been dating. She offered you some tissues before the ceremony started, then winked and nodded in Joel’s direction as the bridesmaids swept down the aisle.

You lingered behind the photographer while he took photos of the wedding party, instructing them to shuffle a little closer, that’s it; ma’am, with the red hair, lower your bouquet a little; alright, now, everyone: big smiles!

You worried that Joel had kept the same placated smile frozen on his face for so long that it might never melt away, might never return to the stoic scowl you’re so used to seeing on him. You didn’t even realize you were staring at him, until he waved you down, flicked his hand, and beckoned you over to the group.

You hesitated. I don’t know if I –

Get over here, girl, Tommy had called, grinning alongside his big brother.

The two Millers slotted you in like a jigsaw piece between their bodies, two arms wrapped around your back – Tommy’s, loose on your shoulders, and Joel’s, tight around your waist. He held you close, squeezing you into his side while the photographer praised the party and snapped photo after photo, the flash burning into your eyes by the time he clapped his hands and thanked you all for your patience.

Drink? Joel had asked, and you’d responded with one thumb up, the other massaging your eyelids. He squeezed your shoulder and disappeared into the crowd of bodies.

He’s still over there – by the bar, a wooden structure draped in ivy and studded by steel bolts. His beer in one hand and your wine in the other. A lean, poised figure stood opposite him – her dress a royal purple, her hair a wave of brown spilling over her bare shoulders.

She’s beautiful – a striking charm which draws your eye to her like an arrow directly through the sea of bodies between here and there. Her languid movements, the slow roll of her neck to sweep the hair from one side of her body to the other.

Her head falls back in laugher, her bejeweled hand falls softly on his arm. Your throat closes sharply. Joel nods, angling as if to make off, but she holds onto him and leans in. He laughs, then, at whatever her full lips whisper into his ear, and he finally breaks off from her and returns to you.

He pushes the glass by its base across the smooth tablecloth. Your fingers brush over one another as you trade, the stem sitting between your index and middle. He’s warm, his knuckles kissing yours.

“How was it, then, talkin’ to my mom?” Joel asks.

You smile, propping your chin on the heel of your palm. “I like her. She’s funny.” And then, when he tosses his head in response, “Who were you talkin’ to?”

Joel follows your eyeline over to the woman in the purple dress. The glint of white crystal on her neck. The drama of dark hair on pale skin. “Uh,” he wanders around your back to his chair, “we used to work together.”

Your nails tap against the glass. “Oh, yeah?”

He sniffs. Doesn’t meet your eye. “Yep.”

“You were talking to her for a long time.”

He watches a blue orb dance over your head on the wall, a spot of light from the disco ball over the dancefloor. “Lotta memories.”

“Why won’t you look at me?”

His eyes plummet. Fall from the string bulbs straight to your face, sparkling in the rainbow lights. “You want me to look at you? There.”

You grin. “’s better. If you stare up there long enough, they might stick.”

“Safer to have ‘em stuck on you, is it?”

“Mhm,” your voice echoes around the curve of your wine glass, “better view. So, who is she?”

Joel shifts uncomfortably. He twirls the bottle in his fingers. “We…we were together for some time. A few years.”

“An ex,” you muse, stain of lipstick left on the rim of your glass. “How many years?”

“Eight.”

You almost choke on your drink. “Eight – eight years?”

Joel nods, waiting for you to catch your breath. Expression never changing. Bottle still twirling. “Haven’t seen her in a while. We were just catchin’ up.”

“Eight fucking years. Why the fuck aren’t you married?”

He scoffs. “That’s a fifth-date question.” He lifts the bottle to his lips, tongue pushes against the glass.

“I don’t need five fuckin’ wardrobes,” you quip, and he laughs. Like, genuinely laughs. His head tips back, his teeth show. Your chest swells, confidence and relief blooming there. She didn’t make him laugh like that – not from where you were watching.

It becomes something of a mission in the back of your mind – tallying up how many times you can make his chest shudder, his shoulders jerk. How many times he leans in closer and repeats whatever you said, eyes closing over and hand hitting his thigh. How many times he looks at you and your stomach flutters, the blood cartwheels through your veins, the bones of your ribcage readjust and make room for the swelling of your heart.

Within four rounds, you’ve lost count.

The thudding beat of the music muffles in your drunken ears, like it’s coming from the next room. Your gaze fixes on the vase in the center of the table, the bouquet spilling over the glass. The wide burst of speckled lilies, the humble blush of tulips between. The colors soften and blur the longer you stare at them.

The jerk of Joel’s shoulders stirs you from your daydream. That’s one more.

“What?” you ask, head rolling to look over to him.

“You still in there?” he asks, one word slurring into the next like waves lapping.

You scoff, looking back to the pink flowers. “You know who has tulips?” you ask him.

He lifts his eyebrows. Who?

“Alice.”

“Brown?”

Your head nods heavily. “One time, she was out getting her mail, and I had just pulled up in my car on the phone to my best friend – he’d just broken up with his girlfriend, it was a whole thing…” You bat your hand. “Anyway. She pretended to tend to her tulips for forty-five minutes while I sat talkin’ to him in the driveway.”

Joel’s head tilts back with a burst of laughter. “She hear every word?”

“Every – damn – word. Stood by the fence listenin’.”

“That woman is som’ else,” Joel says, shaking his head. He stares down at the bottle between his fingers. His thumbs play with the curled corner of the label. “Didn’t I warn you about her?”

“Mhm.” You smile, realizing he has the same memory that you do, locked up somewhere in his mind. The sweat running down his temple, the dark patch between his shoulder blades. His hands gripping the heavier boxes, leaving you to carry the linen, the base of a lamp. Nodding as he wandered back over to his own porch, calling back for you to Holler if you need anythin’.

The high squeal of the Sweet Child O’ Mine intro snaps you back to the wedding reception. Tommy and Maria are playing air guitar on the dancefloor over Joel’s shoulder. You unstick your gaze from his white shirt, unsure how long you’ve been fucking staring.

Joel sits forward, drags his chair across the polished floor closer to you. He fixes the strap on your dress, untwisting it before settling back again. Your eyes follow his fingers as they leave your shoulder and sit back on the curve of his thigh, lifting when his voice breaks through to your eardrums.

“What room number did you say you were, again?”

Your shoulders roll. “Thirty-four, I think.”

Joel nods. Points to himself. “Thirty-six.” And then he glances over his shoulder, watches as Tommy kneels before Maria and rocks his head, his messy mop of hair tossed across his shoulders. The older Miller brother turns back. “Think they’ll miss us if we call it a night?”

“We’re callin’ it a night?”

“Figure if I’m headin’ off then you won’t wanna be sat here by yourself,” Joel says, and he’s right. He stands up, sets the half-empty bottle on the tablecloth and stares down at you. “I’m callin’ it a night,” he tells you. “You comin’?”

The colors in the room spin like the reels of a slot machine. Your fingers sit lightly in his outstretched palm, and you pull yourself up alongside him.

“’s a good girl,” he mutters, looking over your shoulder to the doorway, and your eyes sober up long enough to catch the flicker in his eye.

You totter along the hallway, arm in arm, anchoring yourselves together. Whichever way one sways, the other inevitably follows. You’re laughing, and Joel’s hushing you, warning that there are folks tryna – tryna sleep, we’re in a fancy place, hey, da-rlin’, no – you gotta shhhut up.

“Great party,” you decide, finally docking against your door.

“Yeah,” Joel agrees, leaning a little on the wall. The gentle glow of the hallway lights him perfectly; the strong angle of his jaw, the curve of his cheekbones. The hazel pools that make up his irises, the swollen circles of black in the middle. And the twinkle in them, like the moon reflecting on dark water, every time his gaze lifts to you.

He’s different tonight. Maybe it’s the alcohol. The way it colors everything in a peachy film, all objects softened and rosy and shapeless. But he feels different, too. You suddenly realize, shoulder pressed hard against the cold doorframe, that you’ve never touched one another more than you have today. His elbow in yours, his arm around your waist, his hand through yours as you danced together.

“Are you tired?” you ask, head rolling.

“Tired? No. Drunk, yeah. Not tired.” He laughs again. It’s infectious.

“You wanna come inside?” you ask, words leaping from your giggle.

He takes ten seconds to consider it. Slumps into the wall, steadied only by his forearm pushing him back upright. His watch face catches the light behind him.

“Yeah. Fuck yeah, I do.”

Your hand fumbles in your clutch for the keycard, swiping the handle and pushing down heavily. You spill into the dark room, light sneaking in from the sconce outside your window, and spin back to face him, his hand locked tight with yours.

Joel follows you slowly as you back towards the bed, kicking your heels off and tripping over the skirt of your dress. When your legs hit the plush mattress, his body leans into yours. Your lips ghost across his, your words pushing them apart one by one.

“This ain’t – part of the – agreement,” you murmur, the coarse hair of his beard scratching your chin. You pull apart his tie, loosening the knot.

“Changed my mind,” he replies, collapsing on top of you on the bed.

Your head rolls back when his lips suck into your neck. You wrestle with his belt, with the waist of his suit trousers. “No changin’ the deal, remember?”

“Tell me to stop.”

If you had any intention of answering him, your body overrides it. Words lassoed and dragged back down where they came from, your throat opening only to gasp when Joel’s teeth graze the flesh of your breast. His fingers tug on the straps of your dress, letting them fall from your shoulders until your chest sits exposed.

He drags his tongue along your skin, dipping between your tits while his hands massage them, fingers pinching your nipples. Your back lifts and his hands move beneath, following the curve of your spine to where your dress pools loose around your waist. He pushes down, slinking the smooth fabric from your body.

“You fuckin’…” He clicks his teeth, laughing behind them. Another flush of heat washes over your skin.

You giggle, bending your knees to cover the lace panties he knows all too fucking well. Joel stops you, pushes your legs back down with two heavy hands.

“Don’t get shy now, baby,” he murmurs, opening your body up again. “You were so happy about me seein’ ‘em a few weeks ago, no?”

“’s different,” you reply, tang of alcohol fueling your words, “now I just want you to take them off me.”

He cocks his head, drinking every word you’re handing over like it’s water from an oasis. “Such a dirty girl, ain’t you?”

You pull him closer by the collar and line your mouth against his, the tip of your tongue wetting the inside of his lips. “You got no fucking idea,” you whisper, whipping the shirt from his torso.

Joel growls, flipping you over and pulling you by the shoulders flush against his chest. You hook an arm around his neck, turn to grant him access to your lips. He kisses you like a starved animal, savoring every taste, teeth nipping at your tingling lips.

His hand curves around your hips, pushing beneath your underwear to cup your mound, middle finger pushing on the spongey hood of your clit. Your head falls limp against his collarbone, back arching as Joel holds you steady with an arm around your waist.

“’s alright, baby,” he coos, his tongue licking the shell of your ear. “I’m gonna take good care of ya. Gonna give you what you need, alright?”

A strangled moan unravels across your tongue, echoing into Joel’s mouth. Your hips begin to gyrate, meeting the rhythm of his hand, his finger massaging rough circles into your clit. He smirks, peeling the panties down your thighs.

“Attagirl,” he breathes, “you want it bad, huh? Gettin’ so worked up so fast. Here.”

He removes his hand from between your legs, ignoring your moan of protest and replacing it with two fingers on your bottom lip. “Open,” he instructs, and you obey like a fucking dog. He slips them in, thick and heavy, and waits for you to coat them with your wine-stained tongue.

Joel pushes down, forcing a muffled gag from your throat which lifts the corners of his mouth. He shakes his head lightly, whispering, “You got it, ‘s okay.”

A thread of saliva strings between his fingers and your lips when he lowers his hand again, trailing his fingers through your folds until he’s dancing along the seam of your cunt. You jolt forward; Joel hauls you back.

“Just fucking – do it,” you whimper, your walls clenching around nothing.

He holds his fingers together, curling and inserting them in a painfully slow motion. Your knees widen on the mattress, body sinking down by instinct to meet his fist, to feel his thick fingers and wide knuckles as deep as they’ll go.

You gasp when Joel begins hooking them inside you, nudging against your walls like your heartbeat against your clit. Your hand lowers, slipping beneath his loose waistband, beneath the elastic of his boxers and around his already solid cock.

Joel groans, fucking you harder on his hand. “Fuck, just like that, baby. You feel what you do to me?”

“Uhuh,” you reply, voice wanton and broken.

You squeeze him, your fist moving up and down, his warm skin following the movements of your tight grip. His tip is already soaked, precome staining his underwear, dribbling down your thumb.

Joel uses his free hand to shove his pants down, crumpling on the floor at his feet when they free his cock. You carve your mouth around his, the two of you exchanging breath and flicking your tongues together as you fuck one another’s hands, the room slowly filling with the hot, muggy smell of sex.

Joel’s the first to cave. With a jerk of his hips, he takes you by the wrist and frees himself from your clutches.

“You’re gonna make me come, darlin’,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers from your cunt.

“That’s kinda the point here,” you reply, teeth bumping into his in a grin.

Joel shakes his head, lifting his hand, glistening with your arousal. “Gotta feel this fucking pussy first.”

You smile, parting your lips for him for the second time, suckling on his fingers and licking them clean of your own salty slick. His cock draws sticky trails on the seam of your thigh.

“Yeah,” Joel breathes, eyes fixed on the place where you close around him, “that good, baby? You gonna let me taste you?”

You release his fingers and he pulls you in, tongue slipping against yours with a groan which vibrates against your jaw. When your lips part, you hold your mouth open, your tongue sat on your bottom lip.

Joel reacts instantly, collecting a bead of saliva in front of his teeth and letting it drop into your mouth. You moan and swallow it, a cocktail of beer and whiskey and slick. Joel watches as you lick your lips, the stained-pink coated in a thick, white shine.

“Alright,” he says, letting you fall forward onto the bed. He jacks himself a few times, spitting into his hand and using it to coat his cock.

“Want you to come in it,” you whine, wiggling your ass for him as he lines up at your slit. You can feel the arousal gathered on his tip, dripping down your cunt.

“Yeah, baby,” Joel growls, a smirk on his lips as he watches himself slowly disappear inside you. And then –

You both fall silent, mouths hanging wide open as you each feel the width of his cock and the tightness of your cunt. The way your body opens up to accommodate his size, the direct pain and ethereal pleasure of Joel pushing into you.

“Fuck,” he groans, your pussy drawing him in with a sweet, wet sound. “Been thinkin’ about this all fuckin’ day, baby. So damn gorgeous in that dress.”

You slowly move your hips back to meet him at the base of his cock; dark, trimmed hair bristling against your lips. Joel’s hands lock around your waist, holding you steady with his entirety buried inside, letting you adjust to him.

He’s so fucking big, so wide and deep that your breath tears rugged from your lungs, barreling up your windpipe. Your walls squeeze tight as he pulls out like your body refuses to let him go, like your cells understand better than you do that you were made for this – made for him. Like the only place in the world that he belongs, is somewhere deep inside you.

So big that it hurts, each time he fills you up and stretches you wide open. The pain an eye-rolling, lung-closing, limb-shaking sensation.

Your elbows give, falling chest-first onto the mattress while Joel fucks you hard, his hands gripping your hips. Your cheek and breasts flat against the sheets, your back arched. He slams into you, edging you closer and closer with each meeting of his warm skin against yours, each sopping slap of come and saliva.

The mattress shifts above your head, two valleys where his palms push down heavily, then the weight of his body at the back of your thighs. He towers over you, hips hammering so hard that you’re forced to hook your fingers around his wrists just to stay on the same fucking planet.

“Gonna – fuckin’ – come – baby,” he spits, his jaw locked tight. “You want it in this little pussy? You think she can take it all?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, the edges of your words rounded by the silk sheets. “Joel, I – fuck –”

“Yeah, she can,” he agrees, playing with the hair spilling across your shoulders and taking it in a fistful.

The hazy drunken blur begins to turn over in favor of something sharper, something electric pulsing through your veins. Every part of your body alive, everything rising to meet the same high, the same release. You cling onto him, body beginning to melt beneath his.

Joel’s lips press between your shoulder blades. “Don’t fight it, baby, let go. I got you.”

You moan his name in one last pathetic attempt before the world whitens. You clench around him as a deafening orgasm shocks through your body, curling your back and forcing your nails deep into Joel’s wrists.

“Fuck, baby, fuck me,” Joel gasps. He slams into you one final time before you feel the staggered pump of his come flooding between your walls. “Ahh,” he groans, pushing apart your ass cheeks to watch the trickle seep from your cunt. “Good fucking girl. Take it, baby. That’s my girl.”

He turns you over onto your back and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him against your body as he thrusts into you again, tenderly pushing his spend deeper inside. It draws a strained moan from your throat.

“’s alright,” he coos, hips slowing against yours, “just feel it, baby. You feel how deep I am?”

“Uhuh,” you cry, nails digging into his skin, damp with sweat.

“So fuckin’ full of me,” he says, more to himself, before collapsing alongside you, holding your thigh on his hip, his tip still sheathed inside you.

You lie like that for a while, listening to the distant hum of music from downstairs, the party still raving in the belly of the hotel while you two lay in content bliss somewhere in its ribcage. Tracing one another’s features, learning the lines on Joel’s face, the flecks of gray in his eyebrows – all the parts you’re never close nor brave enough to get to know.

His right hand massages your plush waist, his left arm a pillow to rest your heavy, dizzy, drunk head on.

“I wanna do it again,” you whisper, the words sneaking out between heavy breaths.

Joel nods. His bottom lip sticks with sweat to yours. His hips push a little neater into you. “I wanna do it again, too.”

“I wanna do it all night.”

He hasn’t stopped nodding. He shrugs, tightens his grip around your shoulders, and tilts his head. “Then let’s do it all fucking night,” he says, and his lips slam back into yours.

The morning after the wedding, Joel drives you home. The truck soars down the highway, the two of you an uncomfortable distance apart. The same sobering distance you’ve kept all morning – the unreal aftermath of sex.

The rolling waves of bedsheets between your bodies; the sun sifting her long fingers through his hair as she peered through the curtains. The way you’d silently pushed yourself from the mattress, fragmenting your movements and allowing the spring to dip a fraction at a time so not to wake him. The spongey feel of the hotel carpet under the balls of your feet as you’d tottered to the bathroom. The sharp shot of the lock sliding into place, echoing like a bullet.

He waited until you finished showering to get ready himself. Sat on the edge of the bed patiently and watched your shadow beneath the door, the to-and-fro of your silhouette breaking the sliver of golden light as you dressed your sticky body. When you pulled on the metal lock again, he was sat on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees, pinching the bridge of his nose. His bare shoulders were curved, and tanned. You blinked twice to store the image and turned away as he stood.

He says he feels hungover. You say you do, too. It’s the closest you come to talking about it. You hop out of the truck in his drive, your tote bag hooked on your shoulder. The canvas gnawing at the silk inside. Joel tells you he’ll see his end of the deal through in a couple weeks.

“Real busy with work,” he mutters apologetically, his wrists still balancing on the steering wheel.

“That’s good,” you tell him, nodding. “I ain’t in any rush. I know where you live, so.”

A relieved laugh pushes from his lips. “I will get to it,” he assures you.

You shrug casually. “Whenever, Joel.”

You don’t talk for a few days. A few days bleeds into three weeks. You find yourself stood by his front tires, throwing his newspaper onto the porch and scampering when it lands. The noise like a bomb dropping.

Slowly, as the month draws on, you become braver and braver – daring closer and closer to his front door, until you’re back to marching up the steps like you own the place, depositing the roll on his doormat. Rubbing your thumbs against your fingers to feel the ink like satin.

The door cracks open as you make your way back down his steps one bright morning.

“Hey, kid,” Joel murmurs, reaching down for the paper with a groan.

“Hey.”

“You doin’ okay?” he asks, leaning his forearm against the door.

Your head tilts back and forth, your hand lifting to shield your eyes from the sun. “Think I ate som’ bad, maybe. Weird stomach this mornin’.”

Joel’s chin angles. “Hope it ain’t contagious. Was thinkin’ I could get that closet started for you, maybe tomorrow?”

The offer takes you off guard. You buffer for a few seconds before answering, “Sure. Sure, just, uh – just come over whenever, I guess.”

“Nine work for you?”

You nod. “Nine’s good. See ya then.”

It’s something like nine when you find out.

You wake feeling groggy. Tired, sluggish. A heavy ache pulling on your breasts as you rise from bed, tender and swollen. You stand in the bathroom, milky morning light filtering in through the doorway, and your stomach lurches. Waves of nausea deep in your belly, rocking back and forth, swirling and spiraling.

You’ve a box under your sink. It makes sense. Before Joel was some date from Hinge, who fucked you against the wall of his living room and who snored so loud that you left before the sun came up. Negative. Like always.

But it never hurts to be sure.

The pack tears like it’s liquid in your hands. Peels back to reveal the plastic white test, the bubblegum pink cap – like it’s something fun and sweet to place the direction of your future into this little device. A clinical compass needle.

Three to five minutes. You set it down on the counter and drag yourself back through to your room, lifting your bedsheets, tucking them under the mattress, heaving your pillows back into place against the headboard. An uncomfortable heat boiling under the surface of your skin, a prickle of sweat clinging to the nape of your neck.

A sickly taste harboring on your tongue, you pad back to the bathroom and swipe the test up. Your eyes scan past the result window to the counter as you reach for your toothbrush – and then snap abruptly back to the tiny oval. Your outstretched hand freezes in midair. There’s no fucking w–

Your arm swings back to reach for the light cord. The bulb hesitates – flickers, like it’s unsure whether to reveal the truth to you. It knows something you don’t. It’s seen something it doesn’t want to show you. You stare at the pregnancy test.

Two little pink lines stare back. And Joel knocks at your door.

#forgive me for it not being clm or sof #they're coming very soon i promise #this was too fun an idea not to chase #i have the attention span of my labrador retrievers (nil)#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #macfrog #neighbor!joel miller #neighbor!joel #babydaddy!joel miller

3K notes · View notes