#show him respect for his space and he will love you for it

[yassbishimvintage]

Hold Me Close

Warnings: Smut, Fluffy fluff, Mentions of Loss.

Word Count: 9.6k

MDNI! Read at your own risk. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.

A/N: I got a little carried away with this but I hope y'all like it. And thank y'all for the love and support.

Today was the day he was coming back from Shelby Springs. He told her bits and pieces of the story, but the one that she knew hurt the most was that he lost Mike. His cousin that he loved like a brother. 

When he gets home Imani sees the truck he was supposed to buy with his cousin. She rushes outside. “Babe! Babe!” She says to him as he pulls in the driveway. 

He looked broken. When he steps out the truck she notices his arms has bruises and he has a hospital band on his arm. “T? What happened?” She asks. “Too much to talk about, I just want you.” He says wrapping her in a hug.

He’s clearly overwhelmed by everything, and in this moment, he’s seeking solace and comfort from Imani rather than diving into the details. His hug is a way of finding temporary escape from the chaos, a need for closeness and reassurance in the face of everything that’s happened.

Imani felt the weight of his pain in that moment, understanding that he’s not ready to share everything yet, but also feeling the need to be there for him—whether that means offering support or giving him space to heal.

She nods and leads him into their house. He looks around their kitchen. Thanks to the Vet loan that helped them build their house. This was something he gifted her after he got out the Marines. She sits him down in the kitchen to tend to his wounds. 

As Terry looks around, the weight of the moment might hit him. This house is a reflection of the life they both wanted, and now, with everything that has happened, it might feel like a bittersweet reminder of what was supposed to be. Imani leading him to the kitchen shows her nurturing side—she’s not just comforting him emotionally but making sure he’s physically okay as well.

Once seated, there’s a quiet intimacy to this moment. Imani is probably waiting for him to open up at his own pace, giving him the space to breathe and gather himself. She might be worried but is likely holding off on asking too many questions, understanding that Terry needs time to process.

Imani’s soft, reassuring words—“You know you can talk when you’re ready, baby”—are exactly the kind of support Terry needs in this moment. She’s offering him a safe space to open up without pressure, letting him know that she’s there for him whenever he’s ready to share. Her tone is lsoothing, a reminder that she’s not going anywhere, and that he doesn’t have to face this burden alone.

Terry’s response, “I know,” in a voice barely above a whisper, shows just how much he’s holding inside. There’s an acknowledgment that he’s aware of Imani’s support, but he’s not ready to fully open up just yet. His whisper suggests the emotional weight is still too heavy for him to voice out loud. It’s clear that Terry feels the depth of the situation, and even though he appreciates Imani’s presence, he’s still processing everything on his own terms.

In this quiet exchange, there’s an understanding between them: Terry needs time, but he also knows that when he’s ready, Imani will be there to listen. The moment feels fragile but intimate, as if both are waiting for the right time for Terry to truly open up.

After patching him up, Imani sitting with Terry in silence speaks volumes about her understanding of what he needs in that moment. She doesn't try to force conversation; instead, she lets the silence settle between them, providing the space he needs to process everything. Her quiet presence speaks to her deep respect for his emotional state—she knows that sometimes, words aren't necessary. Just being there is enough.

For Terry, the silence may feel heavy at first, but it could also provide a comforting sense of relief. Being with Imani, without pressure, allows him to start grappling with his emotions in a way that feels safe. It’s as though she’s telling him that he doesn’t have to have it all figured out right now.

Terry’s quiet request, “Baby. Can you just come to bed with me?” feels like a longing for comfort and closeness rather than anything more. It’s a subtle but powerful way for him to ask for her support—he doesn’t need to talk, he just needs to be near her, to find some sense of peace in her presence after everything that’s happened.

Imani nodding without hesitation is a silent affirmation that she’s there for him, ready to be the steady presence he needs. It shows her understanding that sometimes the best way to heal is to simply be with someone, no words necessary.

As they head to bed together, the atmosphere could shift into something more tender. There’s no pressure for conversation or for Terry to reveal everything. The act of simply being together in bed could be a safe haven for both of them, a shared space to heal, even in silence.

Whenever something heavy was on his mind he would be the little spoon to her. Him being 6’3 and her being 5’2 was a stark contrast. When they got in bed he rested his head on her chest while he wrapped his arms around her. 

Imani’s gentle touch, tracing circles on Terry’s bare back, is a soothing and intimate gesture. It’s her way of grounding him without the need for words—showing her support through the simple act of physical comfort. Feeling his breathing, steady and deep, might allow her to sense that, while he’s still carrying a lot, he’s finding some peace in her presence. The touch on his back can be both a source of reassurance for Terry and a way for Imani to stay connected to him emotionally without pressuring him to speak.

Her decision not to pry shows her deep respect for Terry’s need for space. She understands that, when he's ready, he’ll talk, but right now, she’s content just being there with him. There’s something incredibly tender about this moment, where the silence and physical closeness speak louder than words ever could.

Imani’s kiss on Terry’s head is a quiet, tender expression of love and reassurance, a gentle way to seal the moment of peace between them. Her whispered words, “You don’t know how much I love you,” are filled with deep affection and the weight of everything they’ve been through together. In that quiet moment, she’s offering him a reminder of her unwavering support, even if he’s still processing everything on his own terms.

As she kisses him and speaks those words, Imani is likely feeling a mix of emotions—concern for what Terry’s carrying, gratitude for their connection, and maybe a touch of sadness that he’s still holding so much inside. But in the stillness of the night, her love for him is the one thing that remains constant and unspoken, offering him the strength to face whatever comes next.

Terry, with his breathing steady and slow, has found some respite in her arms. Her presence is the kind of peace he needs in that moment. It’s as if her love is a quiet anchor in the storm of everything he’s been through.

Soon she falls asleep herself. She somehow some way fell asleep on his chest. His arms made it's way to her waist. 

The soft rays of sunlight gently filtered through the window, slowly pulling Imani from her sleep. She blinked a few times, still feeling the warmth of Terry's body pressed against hers, but as she stretched out her arms, she felt the absence of her favorite pillow—him. The space beside her was empty, and for a moment, a small pang of longing settled in her chest.

Imani’s eyes drifted around their bedroom, still a little groggy from sleep. She smiled softly as her gaze landed on an old Marine Corps t-shirt of Terry’s, draped across the back of a chair. The familiar dark green fabric, faded from years of wear, had the bold letters "MCMAP" printed on it, a reminder of Terry’s time as a Martial Arts Instructor in the Marines. It was one of her favorite shirts to wear when he wasn’t around—it smelled like him, like home, like the comfort of his steady presence.

She pushed herself up from the bed, stretching once more, her muscles still a little stiff, but grateful for the rest. The house was quiet—too quiet without Terry in it. The sound of the coffee maker percolating in the kitchen was the only noise filling the space. She slipped on his shirt, feeling its softness against her skin, and it instantly put her at ease.

Imani loved how it fit her—oversized, comfortable, and a constant reminder of the man she adored. The shirt was a piece of his past, a link to the man he had been before they met, but it had also become part of her daily routine, something she’d wear in the mornings when he wasn’t there, a little piece of him that kept her close to him even when they were apart.

As she walked to the kitchen, the smell of coffee filled the air, and she couldn’t help but smile. She knew Terry was probably already awake, taking care of something or working on his thoughts. Despite his silence about the past few days, Imani knew he was fighting his own battles. She could see it in the way he moved—slow, deliberate—and the way his eyes would sometimes darken with things he couldn’t yet talk about.

She set the coffee pot to brew a fresh pot and leaned against the counter, her fingers gently tracing the edge of the countertop. The sunlight coming through the window illuminated the room in a warm, golden hue, and she let the peace of the moment sink in.

As she waited, she glanced down at the shirt she wore again, her thoughts turning inward. It wasn’t just a shirt. It was a piece of Terry she held close when she missed him, a way to connect with the man who had made her heart feel whole.

A soft rustling noise interrupted her reverie, and she turned just in time to see Terry entering the kitchen. His eyes softened when he saw her wearing the shirt. “You always steal my best clothes,” he teased with a smirk.

Imani smiled warmly, her heart fluttering at the sight of him standing there. “I can’t help it. I love how it feels... like having you here even when you’re not.”

Terry walked toward her, his movements slow but steady. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering as they always did when he was close. “You know,” he said softly, “I don’t think there’s ever been a time when I didn’t want to be here with you.”

Imani’s heart skipped a beat. She had heard him say things like this before, but hearing it now, after everything they’d been through, still had the same effect. Her hand reached up to touch his chest, resting there as she met his eyes. “I know, baby. I just need you to talk to me when you're ready, okay?”

Terry nodded, his lips pressing into a firm line as he gazed down at her. “I will,” he promised, his voice quiet but sincere.

The air between them was thick with unspoken words, but for the first time in days, Imani felt the shift. She knew they were moving toward healing, toward understanding. And though they still had a long way to go, she felt a sense of peace in that moment, in the familiarity of the shirt, the warmth of their home, and the love they shared.

“Thank you for last night Imani.” He says softly.

Imani looked up at him, her heart swelling with tenderness at the sincerity in his voice. She had always known how deeply Terry cared for her, but hearing him express it so openly, especially after everything he'd been through, felt like a balm to her soul. She smiled, reaching up to cup his face gently in her hands.

“No need to thank me, babe,” she whispered, her thumb brushing over the stubble on his jaw. “You don’t have to thank me for loving you.”

Terry leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly as if savoring the moment. “It’s not just about love,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s about you being there when I didn’t know how to be there for myself. Last night... it meant everything.”

Imani’s heart ached with the weight of his words. She had always seen him as strong—unshakable even—but in this moment, she understood the depth of his vulnerability. They had both been through a lot, but their bond was something that couldn’t be broken by the hardships they faced. She pulled him in for a soft kiss on the lips, a silent reassurance that she was there for him, always.

“I’ll always be here, Terry,” she whispered against his lips, her voice filled with conviction. “No matter what.”

He exhaled a shaky breath, his hands coming to rest on her waist, pulling her closer. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m not taking this for granted, Imani. I swear I’ll do better... I’ll be the man you deserve.”

Imani’s eyes softened as she looked up at him, her hands gently caressing the back of his neck. “You already are, Terry. You always have been.”

Terry’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift. There was no need for grand gestures or more words—just the simple comfort of knowing that they had each other, no matter what the future held.

Imani smiled up at him, the sun shining through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow on their quiet, intimate moment. “Let’s just take things one step at a time,” she said. “We don’t need to have it all figured out right now.”

Terry nodded, his lips curling into a small smile. “One step at a time,” he echoed, pulling her into a hug.

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, letting the world outside fade away. With every beat of his heart against hers, Imani knew that no matter what challenges came their way, they would face them together, just as they always had.

“Tell me what you want to do today.” He says. 

Imani looked up at Terry, her smile playful as she tilted her head slightly, considering his question. She loved that he was trying to take her mind off things, especially after the weight of everything they’d both been through.

“Well,” she started, letting the words hang in the air for a moment as she moved closer to him, “I think I’m in the mood for something... low-key today. Maybe we could start by grabbing some coffee, take a walk, just... get out of the house for a bit.”

Terry raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Sounds like a good plan. Coffee first, though?”

“Definitely coffee,” Imani agreed with a laugh. “And I think we could use a little break from everything. Maybe some time away from the house would do us good.”

Terry’s expression softened, a quiet understanding in his eyes. He knew that sometimes the best thing for both of them was to step away from their daily routine and just enjoy each other’s company, free from the weight of their responsibilities or past struggles.

“Alright,” he said with a nod, his hands resting on her hips as he pulled her closer for a brief kiss. “Let’s do it. Coffee, a walk... and maybe some quiet time afterward. Just us.”

Imani grinned, her heart lightening at the thought of a peaceful day spent with him. “Exactly what I need. We’ll leave everything behind for a few hours.”

As they finished getting ready, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief—today wasn’t about tackling the weight of the world. Today was about them, about reconnecting in simple ways. A warm coffee in their hands, the cool air of the day around them, and the comfort of each other’s presence.

“Let’s go,” Imani said, taking his hand and leading him toward the door. “I think today is going to be a good one.”

As Terry and Imani stepped out of their home, the fresh air of the morning seemed to wash over them, offering a moment of peace that both of them needed. The streets were quiet, with only the soft rustling of the trees in the breeze and the distant hum of the city waking up. It was a perfect contrast to the chaos they had both been dealing with recently.

Imani, sensing that Terry was taking it all in, walked beside him in comfortable silence. She loved these moments with him—the ones where words weren’t necessary, where just being together was enough to feel grounded.

Terry took a deep breath, his broad shoulders relaxing as the tension from the past few days seemed to slowly melt away. The simple act of walking alongside Imani, the rhythmic motion of their steps in sync, gave him a sense of calm he hadn’t realized he was missing.

“So,” Imani finally broke the silence, her voice soft but teasing, “anything on your mind? Or are you just enjoying the peace and quiet?”

Terry glanced at her, his lips curving into a small, appreciative smile. “Just... taking it all in. I needed this. You’re right. Sometimes, just walking with you and being outside helps me clear my head.”

Imani nodded, squeezing his hand lightly. “I get that. Sometimes it’s the simplest things that help, you know? It doesn’t have to be anything big.”

They walked in comfortable silence for a few more moments, the sound of their footsteps accompanying the natural beauty around them. Terry felt the weight in his chest start to lift with each step. With every passing block, the rest of the world seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of them in this peaceful moment.

Imani glanced up at him, noticing the calmness that had returned to his face. “You look more relaxed,” she observed. “This was a good idea.”

Terry looked down at her, his expression sincere. “Yeah. It really was. I’m glad you suggested it.”

They continued walking, their connection deepening with each step. For the first time in a while, Terry felt like he was truly present, like everything he’d been through, everything he was still carrying, could take a backseat for a while.

It was moments like this—when the world felt still, when they didn’t have to talk about the past or the future—that made him realize just how much Imani meant to him. She was his anchor, the one person who could always pull him back from the edge, reminding him of the simple joys of life.

After a while, they came to a small park, where they found a bench to sit and continue their quiet day. Terry leaned back, his arm resting around Imani’s shoulders as she nestled into his side.

“I needed this more than I realized,” he said softly, his voice full of gratitude. “Thank you for bringing me out here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Imani looked up at him, her eyes full of warmth. “You’ll never have to find out,” she said simply, her hand gently resting on his chest. “I’m always here.”

They sat together, watching the world pass by, knowing that no matter what came next, they would face it hand in hand. The peace of the moment wrapped around them, offering both of them a rare kind of clarity and quiet—a reminder that, sometimes, taking it slow and being together was exactly what they needed.

He glanced over at her. “Someone looks like they went up a bra size.” He smirks. He always joked about her gaining happy weight with him.

Imani laughed softly at Terry’s teasing comment, her eyes narrowing playfully as she bumped her shoulder against his. “Oh, really?” she replied, her tone light but with a hint of sass. “Well, maybe I’m just finally learning to enjoy all those home-cooked meals you keep feeding me.”

Terry chuckled, his hand gently squeezing hers. He loved how she didn’t take his teasing too seriously. It was one of the many things he adored about her—her ability to laugh at herself, and the way she always made him feel like everything he said, even in jest, was just part of their dynamic.

“I can’t help it,” he continued, his smirk widening. “You make it too easy to spoil you. And hey, a little extra weight never hurt anyone, especially when it comes to you.” He gave her a wink, clearly enjoying the playful back-and-forth between them.

Imani rolled her eyes, though there was a softness to her smile as she leaned into him more. “I swear, you always know how to make me laugh,” she said, shaking her head but not without affection. “But for the record, I think you’re the one who’s gaining a little ‘happy weight,’ too.”

Terry raised an eyebrow, his grin turning mischievous. “Oh, you think so? You really wanna go there?”

Imani’s lips curled into a smirk. “Hey, someone’s been living pretty well lately. I’m not saying it’s all the late-night snacks, but... maybe it’s time to hit the gym together?”

Terry laughed again, the sound light and carefree. “Oh, now you want to get all healthy on me?” He teased, nudging her playfully with his elbow. “I thought we were enjoying all that food together. What happened to that?”

“I’m all for enjoying things, Terry, but I’m just saying...” She shrugged, a sly smile on her lips. “Maybe a little balance wouldn’t hurt.”

He sighed dramatically, but there was warmth in his eyes as he looked at her. “Alright, alright. Maybe we can start tomorrow. But for now, let’s just enjoy this, yeah? No need to worry about the gym today.”

Imani agreed with a soft chuckle, her hand resting on his chest. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

The two of them continued their walk, their light-hearted teasing a comfortable rhythm that kept the mood easy and carefree. It was these moments, where they could laugh together and share little jokes, that made their relationship feel like home—perfectly imperfect, but always real.

“But seriously. What size cup is my beautiful girlfriend?” He asks.

Imani raised an eyebrow at Terry's bold question, her lips curling into a playful smile. She’d heard him tease her about her appearance countless times before, but this felt like one of his more direct comments. She couldn’t help but laugh, her voice light and teasing.

“Oh, so now we’re talking cup sizes, huh?” she replied, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “You’re really asking that now, huh, after everything we’ve been through?”

Terry gave her a cocky grin, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I mean, I’m just curious. You look even more gorgeous than usual, so I thought I’d ask.”

Imani rolled her eyes but her smile widened as she nudged him with her elbow. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, still grinning. “But if you must know, I’m not telling you. You’re the one who’s always staring anyway.”

Terry laughed, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Hey, I can’t help it. I admire the whole package.” He winked at her, giving her a playful kiss on the cheek. “Just curious if it’s my cooking or your natural beauty that’s making you even more irresistible.”

Imani shook her head, the warmth in her chest growing. “You’re something else, Terry. But don’t think you’re getting away with that one. I’m keeping that secret.”

Terry grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Fair enough, babe. But I’ll just keep appreciating the view in my own way, then.”

She laughed again, shaking her head in amusement. “You’re impossible, but that’s why I love you.”

With that, the playful teasing between them continued as they walked, a shared sense of humor making everything feel light and easy. It was these moments that strengthened their bond, where jokes and laughter kept them connected, no matter what else was going on in their lives.

“The first thing I noticed was damn my girl thick in the ass and thighs. I’m lucky.” He smirks

Imani’s eyes widened at Terry’s blunt compliment, but she couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from her chest. It was the kind of honesty he always carried with him, the kind that made her love him even more. She shot him a side-eye, trying to mask her smile as she shook her head.

“Damn, you really just gonna say that out loud?” she teased, poking him in the ribs. “You trying to get me all embarrassed in the middle of the street?”

Terry only smirked wider, his arm casually draped over her shoulder as they continued walking. “I’m just saying, I’m lucky as hell,” he replied with that easy confidence of his. “You know it, I know it. That’s just the truth.”

Imani rolled her eyes but the blush creeping onto her cheeks gave her away. She couldn’t deny that she loved how openly he appreciated her. It was something she hadn’t experienced much in the past—being loved without hesitation, without games.

“Well, I’m not complaining either,” she shot back, her voice turning playful as she leaned closer into him. “You’re lucky I even put up with you, Mr. ‘Thick in the Ass and Thighs.’”

Terry laughed, the sound deep and genuine. “Oh, I know. But trust me, I’d be a fool not to appreciate it,” he said, pulling her closer by the waist. “I’m not just talking about your curves, either. You’re beautiful all the way around, inside and out.”

Imani’s heart softened, the teasing moment turning into something tender. She met his gaze and smiled warmly, her voice quieter now. “I know, baby. I love you too.”

Terry kissed the top of her head, his hand gently resting on her back. “Good, ‘cause I’m lucky to have you.”

They continued walking, the easy banter and genuine affection between them making the moment feel perfect. Every exchange, whether playful or serious, was a reminder of how deep their bond ran, and it was clear that no matter what happened, they’d always have each other.

When they arrived home, the quiet of their house enveloped them, a welcome contrast to the noise and rush of the outside world. Terry slipped off his shoes at the door, letting out a long breath as he stretched his shoulders, the weight of the day lifting with each movement. He made his way to the couch, sinking into the soft cushions, finally feeling like he could truly relax.

As Imani disappeared into their shared bedroom to change, Terry took a moment to himself, the events of the past day running through his mind. He felt the lingering ache in his muscles, a reminder of his injuries, but it was nothing compared to the weight that had been on his heart. The conversation with Imani, the comfort of their time together—it was the balm he needed to heal.

He reached for the remote and flicked on the TV, though he wasn’t really paying attention to it. His thoughts kept drifting back to Imani. He loved her with everything he had, and in moments like this, when it was just the two of them, everything felt right.

Imani reappeared from the bedroom a few minutes later, now in a simple pair of sweatpants and one of Terry’s old t-shirts. The sight of her in his shirt always brought a soft smile to his face, as if she belonged to him in the most intimate way possible. Her hair was a little messy from taking it out of the bun, and her eyes were warm, soft, the way they always were when she was with him.

She walked over to him, her movements graceful, and gently sat down beside him on the couch. "Feeling better?" she asked, her voice quiet, a mix of care and curiosity.

Terry smiled, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "Yeah. A lot better. I just needed some time with you," he admitted, his voice low, almost reverent.

Imani leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as she wrapped an arm around his waist. "I’m glad. I hate seeing you like that," she murmured, her fingers tracing light patterns on his chest. "You know I’m always here, right? For whatever you need."

He nodded, holding her close, his fingers lightly brushing through her hair. "I know. And I love you for it. You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more."

There was a comfortable silence between them for a moment, just the soft sounds of the TV in the background and their steady breathing. Terry let his head fall back against the couch, feeling a deep sense of peace settle over him. His arm wrapped around Imani, pulling her even closer, as if he could hold onto this feeling forever.

"Thank you," he whispered after a while. "For being here with me. For making everything better."

Imani smiled, lifting her head to meet his gaze. "You’re welcome, baby. You don’t ever have to thank me for that."

Terry kissed her forehead, his heart full. They didn’t need words for this; just being together was enough.

Imani settled more comfortably on the couch, stretching her legs out and resting her feet in Terry’s lap. She was still scrolling through her phone, occasionally pausing to read something or reply to a text, her fingers moving fluidly over the screen. The soft glow of the phone illuminated her face, and Terry couldn’t help but watch her, the familiarity of her presence bringing a calm over him.

He absently stroked the top of her feet with his fingers, a small gesture that brought him peace. It was a quiet, intimate moment—just the two of them, unwinding together after the chaos of the day.

Terry flipped through the TV channels without much interest. The images on the screen didn’t really grab his attention, but it felt comforting to just have the noise in the background. His mind kept wandering back to the past few days, to the weight he’d carried, but now, with Imani here beside him, he felt like he could finally breathe again.

Imani glanced up at him, catching his gaze for a moment before returning her attention to her phone. She could tell he was lost in thought, and she wasn’t sure if it was something she should press him about or just let him work through it in his own time.

"You’re awfully quiet," she remarked softly, her voice teasing but gentle. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Terry let out a small sigh, his fingers pausing as he traced circles on the soles of her feet. "Just thinking. About everything and nothing, I guess," he admitted, his voice low.

Imani smiled softly and shifted, resting her phone down on the coffee table and giving him her full attention. "Want to talk about it?"

He shook his head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Not really. Just… glad to be here with you."

Her eyes softened, and she sat up slightly, resting a hand on his chest. "I’m glad to be here with you too, Terry. We don’t always have to talk about everything. Sometimes just being here is enough."

Terry’s hand slid up to cup her face gently, his thumb brushing over her cheek as he leaned in to kiss her forehead. "Yeah, it is."

The moment stretched on, comfortable and peaceful, as they settled into each other's company. The world outside faded away, and for this moment, it was just the two of them, together, in their little bubble of quiet.

Imani stretched as she stood up from the couch, her body feeling the weight of the day. She gave Terry a playful smile as she walked toward their shared bedroom, her steps light as she headed toward the bed. The soft glow from the bedside lamp cast a warm, inviting light over the room.

As she pulled back the covers, she let out a long yawn, her arms reaching above her head as she stretched. The yawn seemed to echo the exhaustion she hadn’t even realized was creeping in. The past few days had been heavy, and now, in the quiet comfort of their room, it felt like the tension was finally starting to leave her body.

Imani slipped off her sweatpants, deciding to change into something more comfortable for the night, knowing it would be the last thing they’d do before resting. She ran her fingers through her hair, gathering it into a loose ponytail, and then pulled on one of Terry’s old t-shirts—one that had become her favorite to sleep in. The soft fabric, the familiar scent of him, it always made her feel close to him, even when they were drifting off to sleep.

She turned back toward the bed, her body a little sore from the long day, but also feeling a sense of calm that she couldn’t shake. Terry had come back to her, and for now, everything felt right.

When she crawled into bed, she snuggled into the covers, turning onto her side to face him. Her eyes studied him as he sat on the edge of the bed, probably lost in his thoughts again.

“Hey,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Come here.”

Terry glanced over at her, the exhaustion of the day evident on his face. He stood slowly, stretching his back before walking over to the bed. He slipped in beside her, his arm naturally finding its way around her waist as he pulled her close. They settled into the familiar rhythm of their shared space, their bodies fitting together as if they had been made for this moment.

Imani let out another contented sigh, her eyes closing as she rested her head against his chest. It had been a long day, but this felt like home—the two of them together, safe and at peace.

"Love you," Terry mumbled into her hair, his voice drowsy.

"I love you too," Imani murmured back, her fingers lightly tracing over his arm.

And with that, they drifted off into the quiet of the night, the weight of the world outside their door feeling just a little lighter with each breath they took together.

Imani's eyes fluttered open in the morning to the sound of her phone ringing. She groaned softly, burrowing further into Terry’s embrace, savoring the warmth of his strong, muscular arms around her. His embrace always made her feel safe, as if nothing in the world could touch her when he was close.

But the ringing phone persisted, and she finally pulled herself away from his chest with a reluctant sigh. She reached over and grabbed the phone from the nightstand, her eyes squinting as she checked the caller ID. It was work—of course. She could never seem to get a break, especially when she wanted nothing more than to stay wrapped in Terry’s arms and forget about everything else.

Imani silently cursed under her breath, but she answered the call anyway, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice. “Hello?”

Terry, still half-asleep, pulled himself up on his elbows, watching her from the bed as she took the call. He could see the way she shifted, the slight tension in her posture when it was work calling. He knew how much she hated it, especially when it interrupted their mornings together.

“Imani, I’m sorry to bother you so early,” the voice on the other end said. “But we’ve got a situation here. Can you come in? We need your input.”

Imani rubbed her forehead, already feeling the weight of the conversation. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in about an hour,” she replied, trying to sound more professional than she felt. She ended the call, her fingers lingering on the screen for a moment before she tossed the phone back onto the nightstand with a frustrated sigh.

Terry sat up fully now, his brow furrowed. He knew how hard it was for Imani to balance everything—her work, their relationship, and everything else. He could see it in the way her shoulders tensed when something like this happened. He didn’t want her to have to deal with it, especially not on a morning like this when everything had felt so peaceful.

“Babe, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” he said softly, his voice hoarse from sleep. He reached over and gently stroked her arm, his touch meant to reassure her.

Imani smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I have to. You know how it is.” She didn’t want to burden him with her work troubles, but it was part of her life. She’d never be able to turn it off completely. Not while she was still in the thick of it.

Terry sighed, not liking it one bit, but understanding her sense of responsibility. “If you need anything, you know I’ve got your back, right?” he said, his eyes meeting hers with unspoken support. “You don’t have to do it all on your own.”

Imani nodded, her heart swelling with affection for him. He was always her rock, the one she could count on no matter what. But sometimes, it still felt like she had to carry the weight of everything herself.

“I know,” she said, her voice soft but grateful. “Thanks, Terry.”

With a final kiss on his lips, she stood up from the bed and moved toward the closet. She knew she had to get ready, but she could already feel the heaviness of the day settling in. Terry’s gaze followed her as she began to change into something more presentable, his thoughts drifting back to what had happened the day before—the weight of everything that had been on his mind. But he pushed it aside for now. Right now, his focus was on Imani.

At her desk, Imani sat back in her chair with a long, deep sigh. The weight of the morning hung on her shoulders as she tried to focus on the work in front of her, but her mind kept drifting back to Terry. She glanced around her office, taking in the familiar surroundings, but there was only one thing that really caught her eye: a picture on the corner of her desk.

It was her favorite photo of the two of them—a moment from their trip to Disney. In it, Terry stood with his lips gently pressed against her forehead, his strong bicep practically taking up the entire side of the picture. She smiled at the memory. He had always been protective of her in such a comforting, effortless way, and that moment, captured in time, had reminded her of everything she loved about him.

Imani picked up the photo frame, her fingers tracing the edge of the glass. She could almost feel the warmth of Terry’s embrace again, the way his arms had felt around her as they wandered through the park, laughing at the silliest things. It was one of those rare, perfect days when everything seemed to fall into place.

As she stared at the picture, the weight of the phone call from earlier began to resurface. There was a sense of duty that she couldn’t ignore, no matter how much she wanted to. But at the same time, the photo reminded her of the life she was building with Terry, of the support he always offered, even when she felt like she was carrying the world on her shoulders.

“Why can’t every day be like that?” she muttered to herself, setting the frame back down on the desk.

But the reality of her responsibilities wasn’t going to wait. She could feel the pull of work demanding her attention, and she couldn’t ignore the fact that there were lives depending on her input. She let out another sigh, this time with more resolve, and shifted her focus to the task at hand.

Just before she dove back into her work, Imani took a moment to close her eyes and think of Terry. She didn’t need to see him right now to feel his presence. It was there, in everything she did. She knew, without a doubt, that he was her rock—the one person who would never let her fall, no matter how heavy the world felt.

With a deep breath, she turned her attention to her computer screen, putting the personal distractions aside for a moment. But in the back of her mind, she knew she would be counting down the hours until she could see Terry again, find solace in his arms, and steal back some of those small moments of peace.

As the day dragged on, Imani found herself losing track of time. The calls, emails, and never-ending meetings seemed to blur together. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Terry, to the peacefulness of the morning before everything had to be put on hold. But now, sitting at her desk, she couldn’t shake the exhaustion that had begun to settle in her bones.

Her phone buzzed, cutting through the monotony of the office. She glanced down and saw Terry’s name lighting up the screen. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she unlocked her phone.

“What’s for dinner tonight? I’m thinking something simple, but I’ll make it good. How’s your day going?”

Imani chuckled softly, his familiar voice even in text making her feel a little lighter. It was exactly what she needed—a reminder of her life outside of the office. She quickly typed back, trying to keep the conversation casual despite the stress of her day.

“It’s dragging on. I swear, time moves slower when I’m stuck in here. But I’m looking forward to dinner. You’re the best at making the simple things feel special.”

She hit send, feeling the weight of the workday slowly lifting off her shoulders, replaced by the warmth of anticipation. She didn't know what Terry had planned for dinner, but just the thought of him taking care of her, of them sitting down together at the end of the day, made her feel grounded.

A few moments later, his reply came through:

“I’ve got us covered. Just relax when you get home, babe. You’ve earned it.”

Imani smiled, feeling a flutter of affection for him. He always knew how to make her feel seen, even when she was buried under piles of work. She glanced at the clock, realizing the day was almost over. Her energy had been drained, but knowing Terry would be there when she got home filled her with a sense of calm she hadn’t realized she was missing.

“I’ll be home soon. Can't wait to see you.”

She placed her phone down, taking a moment to breathe. The stress of the day hadn’t fully disappeared, but now, with the thought of Terry waiting for her, it didn’t seem quite as heavy.

-

As Imani stepped through the front door, the familiar scent of garlic, herbs, and rich tomato sauce filled the air. Her senses immediately relaxed, and her stomach growled in response. She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply—lasagna. Terry knew exactly how to comfort her after a long day.

She slipped off her shoes and made her way to the kitchen, where she found him standing by the stove, the oven door open and the lasagna just about ready. Terry, wearing a faded T-shirt and his usual relaxed jeans, was humming softly to himself as he prepared the final touches.

Imani leaned against the doorframe, watching him for a moment. The sight of him always grounded her. The way he moved, calm and steady, even in the kitchen, was just one of the many things she adored about him. And tonight, he was making her favorite dish—he always pulled out all the stops when he knew she'd had a hard day.

Terry looked up, a soft smile forming on his face when he saw her. "Welcome home, baby," he said, his voice warm and full of affection. "Lasagna’s almost ready."

Imani couldn’t help but smile back as she walked toward him, reaching up to kiss his cheek. "You’re the best," she murmured, her hands finding his waist as she settled against him. "This smells incredible."

He chuckled softly, pulling her in for a brief hug before letting her go. "Figured you’d need some comfort food," he said, his eyes softening as they met hers. "I know how much you love it."

She leaned back slightly, looking up at him, her gaze softening with a mix of appreciation and love. "You always know just what I need," she said quietly, her fingers tracing the lines of his shirt.

Terry smiled, brushing a lock of hair from her face. "I just want you to feel good. You deserve it after the kind of day you’ve had."

Imani felt a warmth spread through her chest. She was lucky—lucky to have him by her side, always ready to care for her in ways big and small. "I feel good now," she said softly, her lips curving into a smile.

He stepped back toward the oven, pulling the lasagna out and setting it on the counter to cool. "Dinner’s served. I’ll get us some wine."

Imani pulled out a chair at the kitchen table, settling into it as she watched Terry move about. The simple, comforting normalcy of the moment was exactly what she needed. After everything that had been on her mind today, this felt like home—Terry, the food, the quiet after a busy day.

When he returned with two glasses of wine, he set one in front of her before taking a seat across from her. They exchanged a quiet, knowing look, the kind of look that passed between them after years of being together. She lifted her glass in a small toast. "To us," she said softly.

Terry clinked his glass against hers. "To us," he agreed, his voice low and full of meaning.

The rest of the evening passed by peacefully as they enjoyed their meal, the quiet hum of conversation and laughter filling the room. Imani let herself unwind, the weight of the day slowly lifting as she soaked in the comfort of Terry’s presence.

After finishing their meal, the warmth of the evening lingered in the air as Imani moved toward the living room. Terry was already on the couch, casually reclined and looking more relaxed than he had in days. The easygoing comfort of their home was just what he needed, and she couldn’t help but smile as she walked over to him.

Imani moved in closer, feeling the subtle pull between them. Without saying a word, she straddled his lap, settling herself comfortably against him. The contact was familiar and reassuring. Terry’s eyes softened as he met her gaze, a small, amused smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Well, hello there,” he said, his voice low and warm, clearly enjoying the closeness between them.

Imani smirked and leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “I thought I’d come keep you company.” Her hands gently rested on his shoulders, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath her touch. She could tell he was enjoying the way they fit together—his big, solid frame supporting her as she straddled him.

Terry’s hands slid down to her waist, pulling her in just a little closer. His smile deepened as he looked at her, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her back. “You always know how to make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world,” he said softly, his voice thick with affection.

Imani grinned, feeling a flutter of warmth in her chest. “You’re pretty lucky,” she teased, before capturing his lips in a slow, lingering kiss. It was soft at first, their lips barely grazing, savoring the comfort of being so close.

Terry’s hands tightened around her waist, deepening the kiss, his lips moving against hers with a mix of passion and tenderness. As they kissed, Imani felt all the stress of the day melt away. There was something so grounding about being with him, about the way he always seemed to know exactly what she needed—whether it was a comforting dinner or the quiet intimacy they shared now.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, she rested her forehead against his. “I missed you today,” she whispered, her voice quiet, filled with the weight of her emotions.

“I missed you too,” he murmured back, his thumb lightly caressing her cheek. “You know I can’t stand being apart from you.”

Imani smiled softly, leaning in to kiss him again. This was their moment, a space where everything else in the world faded away, leaving just the two of them—together, as they always were.

Imani deepened the kiss, her lips moving with a sense of urgency, feeling the tension that had been building between them all day. She pulled back for a moment, her eyes searching his before she slowly began to tug at the hem of his shirt. There was a familiar pull between them, a silent understanding of how they both needed this closeness, this connection.

Terry’s hands moved to help her, lifting his arms so she could pull the shirt off with ease. As she slid it over his head, she couldn’t help but admire the sight of his strong, sculpted chest. The muscles that had always impressed her now seemed even more alluring, and she couldn’t resist running her fingers lightly across his skin, feeling the heat of his body.

Terry’s breath hitched slightly at her touch, his hands sliding down her back as she moved closer to him. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he said, his voice a mix of admiration and desire.

Imani smiled, her lips brushing against his as she leaned in again. “I know,” she whispered, her hands sliding to the waistband of his sweatpants. She paused for just a moment, savoring the intensity of the moment, before she slowly began to remove them, leaving him in just his boxers.

Terry’s hands moved to her shirt, the desire in his eyes clear. He helped her take it off, his lips brushing along her jawline, savoring the warmth of her skin. “You’re perfect,” he murmured as his lips found her neck, planting soft, lingering kisses along the sensitive skin there.

Imani let out a soft sigh, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him back up to kiss him again. This kiss was different—deeper, more intense—as if the both of them had been holding back for too long and now the floodgates had opened. She pressed her body closer to his, feeling the heat of his skin against hers, the intensity of their connection growing with each passing second.

Terry’s hands were steady, guiding hers to the waistband of his sweats as his voice dropped to a low, heated whisper. The intensity in his eyes made it clear how much he wanted her, how he craved this moment with her. His fingers lightly brushed against hers, urging her forward, while his lips hovered just above her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Imani’s heart raced at the sound of his voice. She could feel the same anticipation swirling between them, the way their bodies responded to each other’s touch. Her fingers moved to the waistband of his sweats, hesitating for just a moment, before she met his gaze.

Her eyes locked onto his, filled with desire and an unspoken understanding. “I want you,” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat. She let her hands slide into the waistband of his sweats, her fingertips grazing his skin as she slowly pulled them down, taking her time, savoring the tension that built between them with every small movement.

As she worked, Terry’s hands slid to her waist, guiding her back down to his lap. His lips found hers once more, gentle but urgent, as if time had slowed and they had all the space in the world to explore one another. His touch was tender yet firm, his hands tracing the curve of her back before moving to her thighs, pulling her closer, if that was even possible.

“I’m yours,” he said softly between kisses, the words a promise and a plea, all wrapped into one.

Imani leaned into him, her fingers still teasing the waistband of his sweats, before finally pushing them down and off. She couldn’t resist trailing her fingers over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under her touch. She felt safe, secure, and loved in his arms, and as their connection deepened, the world outside of them faded away.

Terry’s breath hitched as Imani lowered his sweats, his body reacting to the closeness of hers, to the intimate moment they were sharing. He looked at her, his expression soft but full of longing.

"Babe..." she said softly, her voice laced with affection and something deeper, a hunger that matched his own.

He reached for her, his hands brushing against her sides as he pulled her closer, his lips brushing over her forehead before trailing down to her lips. "You don’t know how badly I want you," he murmured, his voice rough but filled with love and passion.

Imani felt the weight of his words, her own desire for him reflecting in her gaze. She let her hands roam over his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath her touch. She knew exactly what he needed, what they both needed, and without hesitation, she let her lips meet his again, this time with more urgency, as if they both had been waiting for this moment far too long.

Terry responded instantly, his hands finding her hips and pulling her closer to him, pressing her body against his. The contact was electric, and for a moment, all they could feel was the heat between them, the way their bodies fit together so perfectly.

He pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against hers, breathing heavily. "I love you so much, Imani. You’re everything to me," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Imani smiled softly, tracing the outline of his jaw with her fingers. "I love you too, Terry. More than you know," she whispered back, before leaning in to kiss him once more, letting their connection deepen further.

Terry’s hands settled at the waistband of Imani’s pajama pants, his fingers brushing the soft fabric as he looked up at her, his gaze filled with a mixture of love and desire. The room seemed to quiet around them, leaving only the sound of their breathing as they shared this intimate space.

Imani met his gaze, her own eyes dark with longing. She could feel the heat between them, an unspoken understanding passing between them as he slowly began to slip the pants off her hips. His touch was gentle, yet there was an undeniable urgency in the way he moved, a sense that they had both been waiting for this moment for too long.

She helped him, lifting her hips slightly to allow him to pull them down, and as the fabric slid off her body, her bare skin brushed against his, sending a shiver through her.

Terry paused for a moment, his hands resting on her bare thighs as he looked at her, his breath shaky. "You’re beautiful, Imani. Absolutely perfect," he whispered, his voice low and filled with awe.

Imani smiled softly, her hands reaching up to run through his hair, her fingers gently tugging him closer. "I’m yours, Terry. Always have been, always will be," she whispered back, her voice full of love and trust.

With that, Terry leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was as tender as it was passionate. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her close as their bodies pressed together. In that moment, there was no past, no future—just the here and now, the two of them wrapped up in each other.

He gently leaned her back into the pillows, leaving a trail of wet kisses down her body. She inhaled at the sensation. “Tonight, I’m going to make you scream my name.” he says as he makes his way down.

True to word he kept his promise. 

The next morning, Imani woke up with a contented sigh, the warmth of Terry's body still radiating against hers. She could feel the tenderness in her muscles, a reminder of the passion they had shared the night before. Her body was sore, but in the best possible way, a familiar feeling she had come to associate with their most intimate moments together.

Terry was still asleep, his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close. His steady breathing and the comforting weight of his arm made her feel safe, loved, and cherished. She couldn't help but smile as she traced a finger along his arm, her thoughts drifting back to the night they had just shared.

She felt a wave of affection for him, a deep love that ran so much deeper than the physical. Terry was her rock, the person who had stood by her side through thick and thin, and even on mornings like this, when she was sore and exhausted, she felt nothing but gratitude for the man in her life.

Imani shifted slightly, careful not to disturb him, and snuggled deeper into his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat lull her back into a peaceful moment of quiet intimacy.

Tags 🏷️ :

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayaesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @kimuzostar @notpradagurl7

[oaksgrove]

Lego Legends: Moving Day Shenanigans

pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x female!reader

synopsis: Moving day becomes a hilarious adventure as you and Johnny settle into your new shared apartment. From mismatched mugs to Lego Batman keychains (because no duo is complete without Fairy Batman), the two of you navigate unpacking chaos, late-night laughs, and all the quirky moments that make a house a home.

word count: 728

warnings: None, just pure fluff and banter!

The day had finally come. After weeks of planning, packing, and —in Soap’s case— procrastinating, you and Johnny were officially moving into your shared apartment. The place wasn’t fancy, but it had a charm that made it feel just right—wooden floors with a few creaks, tall windows that let in golden streams of sunlight, and a kitchen that Soap had declared perfect for “takeout storage and the occasional tea.”

The spark of your moving adventure began during a late-night snack run. While Johnny debated the merits of salted versus sweet popcorn, something caught your eye—a pair of Lego Batman keychains hanging from a rack by the register. One was the quintessential brooding Batman, and the other? Fairy Batman—complete with a glittery pink tutu and wand.

“Johnny,” you said, holding them up with a grin, “it’s us.”

He squinted at the packaging before breaking into a laugh so loud it turned heads. “Aye, it is! But I’m obviously the cool one.” He gestured to the standard Batman.

“Nope, you’re totally Fairy Batman,” you countered, flipping the packaging for emphasis.

He gave you a mock-offended look, but didn’t stop you when you tossed them into the basket. Later that night, the keychains found their way to your respective keys—Batman for you, Fairy Batman for Soap. He grumbled about hiding his, but you caught him sneaking proud glances at it whenever he thought you weren’t looking.

The next day, you arrived at the apartment, arms laden with boxes, to find Soap standing in the middle of the space, arms spread wide like a showman on stage.

“Welcome to Casa Soap-and-Bonnie!” he declared, his voice echoing dramatically off the bare walls.

“Please tell me that’s not what we’re calling it,” you said, dragging in another box.

He winked. “We’ll workshop it.”

The place was still empty except for a few scattered boxes, and Soap immediately dove into the unpacking with all the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning.

“Right, where’s the kettle?” he asked, rummaging through a box. “Can’t make this place official without a proper cuppa.”

Unpacking quickly became a series of challenges.

“Okay,” Soap said, hands on his hips, surveying the mountain of boxes like it was an enemy stronghold. “We need a system.”

“We have a system,” you replied, setting down another box with a huff. “You open a box, and then you unpack it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” you shot back, tossing him a wink.

The first box he grabbed turned out to be one of his, a chaotic jumble of mismatched mugs and plates.

“Bloody Christ, Johnny,” you laughed, pulling out a chipped coffee mug that proudly declared World’s Okayest Dad. “We’re going to need to buy real dishware at some point.”

“Real dishware’s overrated,” he said, holding up a plate shaped like a fish. “Look at this wee beauty!”

The keychains quickly became a symbol of your chaotic duo, showing up everywhere. They dangled from keys, bag zippers, and, occasionally, Soap’s tactical vest.

One day, during a mission briefing, Soap reached into his chest rig for a pen and instead pulled out Fairy Batman.

“Oi!” he exclaimed, holding it up like a piece of contraband. The room erupted in laughter, and even Ghost let out a rare chuckle.

“Never leave your fairy behind,” you teased later, smirking at him across the mess hall.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered, though the grin on his face betrayed him.

Back at the apartment, the unpacking turned into a kind of dance—arguments about organization turning into fits of laughter, shared stories filling the empty rooms with warmth.

By the end of the day, the place was far from fully unpacked, but it was already starting to feel like home. You collapsed onto the couch—a secondhand find that still smelled faintly of lavender air freshener—and let out a satisfied sigh.

Soap flopped down beside you, his arm draped lazily over the backrest.

“You know,” he said, gazing around the room, “I think Casa Soap-and-Bonnie has a nice ring to it.”

You groaned, nudging him with your elbow. “We’re not calling it that.”

He grinned, twirling the Fairy Batman keychain between his fingers. “We’ll see.”

And as the last light of the day filtered through the windows, you realized that whatever you called it, this place already felt like the start of something wonderful.

[obito-in-disguise]

Hi there!! I absolutely adore your headcanons and scenarios with the hashiras. Could I possibly request how the hashiras navigate a relationship with a partner who struggles heavily with dissociation? 🥺

Hello anon! sorry this is coming late, I've been taking my time with this since it's a really emotionally packed prompt. Dissociative disorders are a spectrum, so I did a different one for each Hashira. I hope you like it!

| How they deal with a dissociative partner |

Featuring: Tomioka Giyuu, Shinazugawa Sanemi, Iguro Obanai, Kyojuro Rengoku, Gyomei Himejima, and Uzui Tengen.

Tomioka Giyuu: Depersonalization/Derealization Disorder

He wasn't quite sure what was happening at first, so he decided to sit back for a while an observe you before reaching a conclusion.

After doing his research, the pieces all came together. The way you always zone out, movements slowing, never fully being present in a conversation, you were feeling detached from your environment.

He senses it's something you don't want to talk about instead and finds quiet, thoughtful ways to support you through his actions.

He's not big on physical touch (or so he says) but will slide his hand across the table to gently intertwine his fingers with yours when he notices you've slipped into one of your episodes.

The simple gesture grounds you back in reality, giving you something to focus on something instead of your wandering thoughts. He would strike up further conversation, engaging you more.

"Want to go for a walk..."

Shinazugawa Sanemi: Dissociative Amnesia

By his nature, Sanemi’s initial reaction to your forgetfulness was frustration. He’d grow irritated, wondering why you couldn’t remember things you should’ve had no trouble recalling.

When you do however explain how you feel in a jumble of words and emotions, it clicks for him that you may be struggling with something.

He cares for you after all, so his approach changes.

“It’s okay if you don’t remember,” he’ll say, keeping his tone gentle but firm.

He starts jotting down shared moments in a notebook, handing it to you when you feel lost.

“See? This is us,” he says, showing you drawings of memories you’ve forgotten but can now hold onto.

You start looking forward to his little drawings, the terrible scribbles becoming a lifeline, offering comfort and reassurance in your blank spaces.

Iguro Obanai: Post-Traumatic Dissociation

Obanai is well aware of the things that you've been through and how they often plague you so much, you wish to escape reality.

He's fiercely protective of you because of this, absolutely ripping apart anybody that dares to poke fun at you or make you feel bad because of this.

He's there for you throughout all your episodes, handling them with the utmost care and observance.

When your triggers pull you into vivid flashbacks, leaving you frozen and disconnected from the present, Obanai notices the tension in your body and the way your breathing changes during these moments.

He keeps his distance at first, speaking softly to let you know he’s near, so as not to startle you. Kaburamaru often plays a pivotal role, curling against you to offer a grounding sensation.

“You’re safe now,” Obanai murmurs, his voice steady. He helps you find the present again with patience and quiet reassurance, ensuring you never feel rushed or cornered.

Kyojuro Rengoku: Dissociative Identity Disorder

In the midst of your struggles, one thing is for sure. Kyojuro absolutely loves.

Living with multiple distinct identities, you often feel overwhelmed by the transitions and the uncertainty they bring. You're worried at first that this would scare him away, but in true Kyojuro fashion, he surprises you pleasantly.

Kyojuro embraces all parts of you with his trademark enthusiasm, learning the names and needs of each identity with respect and care.

When you’re struggling with confusion or distress, he’s a grounding force.

“I’m here for all of you,” he says warmly, his gaze unwavering. Kyojuro ensures each identity feels valued, creating a safe environment where you can exist fully without fear of judgment.

Gyomei Himejima: Dissociative Trance Disorder

For obvious reasons, Gyomei is extremely observant of any shift or slight change in your behaviour.

So he becomes concerned when he notices that for some time at a stretch, you don't respond to him or any stimuli for the matter, don't move and in the most extreme cases, lose consciousness.

His enquiry into your these symptoms lead him to your disorder. He learns everything he possibly can about it, its symptoms and what he can do to help.

The next time you slip into a trance-like state, unable to move or speak, as though you’re frozen in time, Gyomei notices this immediately and springs into action.

He carefully moves you into his arms, ensuring you don't get hurt if you lose consciousness or suddenly come to.

“Breathe with me,” he says softly, his hands caressing your skin softly.

He never rushes you, sitting with you in silence until you’re ready to return. Gyomei’s hold creates a safe space for you to process and reconnect, his presence alone a grounding force in your moments of stillness.

Uzui Tengen: Fugue States

He always sleeps with his arms wrapped around you, like a python suffocating its meal.

So when he wakes in the middle of the night with you not in his arms, and quite frankly nowhere to be found, he panics.

He searches the house first then its environ where eventually finds you in the woods, looking utterly confused with no memory of how you got there.

He embraces you and takes you home, keeping an eye on you with extra concern.

Tengen’s initial concern shifts to proactive care as he learns to navigate these episodes with you.

He keeps a bright scarf or bracelet with your name embroidered on it to help others return you home if needed.

“You’ve had another grand adventure,” he’ll say with a teasing grin once you’re back home safe and sound, his humor never masking his genuine concern.

Tengen ensures you feel safe, no matter how far you wander, grounding you in his love and constant devotion.

Dissociative disorders aren't limited to the ones here, there are tons and tons more.

That being said, I thoroughly enjoyed writing this, everybody say thank you anon for requesting this. Also, I wrote a poem a while back that captures the experience of the Giyuu one for anyone interested.

Enjoyed the story? check out more of my other Demon slayer fics and more stories! Requests are open! and don't forget to like, reblog or leave a comment pookie♡

[oreo-creampie]

I love my cat’s little purring chirp, he wants to make those high pitched short chirps but he wants to purr so it becomes a soft little rumbling loud purr with random burst of shrill chirping. Occasionally you'll see his little chunky self take a deep breath and get bigger like a puffer fish. It's because he is using every ounce of power in his fuzzy cat body to scream for as long as he can

Then if you come close he head buts you and bites your cheek then head buts again. All the while purring and chirping into between head butting and biting. He tries to bite softly but he gets excited. Bumping his head first tends to confuse him enough that he doesn't bite but purrs happy to have your forehead booping his

[bataddictedloony]

it’s also giving klance circa 2018, people were so desperate for klance to be canon they were legit stalking people on the show. Jayvik shippers aren’t there yet but i’m a tumblr oldie and… i’m Seeing Signs, is what I’m saying.

Mostly, Linke just seems like a guy desperately defending his own writing choices (which he has a right to do, giving people are forgetting their manners as soon as they’re on social media and HE CANNOT CHANGE NOW BTW - on top of it being really lame if they made jayvik canon post-canon, like a certain terf twitter witch). The only real argument I can give against him is if he wanted to write ace rep, they didn’t succeed. Unfortunately, ace rep can’t be ambiguous in writing. Not yet, we’re not there yet. That shit needs to be identified out loud in the show. But I don’t really think that was his angle from the beginning. Dude just wanted to write love that’s not romantic and not familial, but still so strong and intense that it put everything in danger and saved everyone. That’s a Good Thing. If only to remind people that friendships are relationships you need to take seriously and need to stop underestimating, both in fandom spaces and real life. The closest thing in media that I can think coming close to doing smthn similar is Hiccup and Toothless, or Pacific Rim.

I think people are just upset their ship refuses to be canon. The arguments people have are really childish, the incessant need for everything to be romantic and canon is unbelievably childish. It’s homophobic? Bruh, you just watched a show where lesbians ate each other out, on a massively popular animated series. That’s revolutionary. That’s literally never been done before. An animated series where being queer isn’t necessary for the story, and yet it’s fucking everywhere, no way to deny it, and you’re pissed cus Your ship is only ambiguously canon, and the writers want to keep being vague about it? Grow the fuck up, eat the food you were given and sit down so you can inevitably get upset at the next show that tries to do something different and interesting, instead of pandering to an audience that has not an ounce of respect for audiovisual media and their artists. It’s absolutely disgusting.

Okay, so apparently the reason people think one of the showrunners is homophobic is that stuff I just shared about Viktor being Ace and him and Jayce being written as loving each other platonically.

Apparently they think that's only to shut up shippers; because it's impossible that a character was intentionally written as Ace and not communicated well enough, and also people can't love someone unless it's romantic

I'm not the only one who finds a tad uncomfortable that claiming a character is ace and a relationship is meant to be platonic not romantic is seen as homophobia? Right

In a show with other canonical queer characters

[itsalwaysdark]

i wish there was a way for me to likeee. semi change this one thingin this one mod. but 1 im not a modder 2 i feel like thats disrespectful. i just want sort of an inbetween between the game and this mod but that is not a thing that exist... sigh

[kitten4sannie]

antithesis

pairing: peter parker/venom! yunho x gf! reader

genre: spider man au, smut

summary: your boyfriend is going through a phase.

w.c: 3.3k (porn with a microscopic amount of plot)

warnings: dom! yunho, sub! reader, venom should have his own warning bc bro is NASTYY (so is yuyu 🤝🏻), partial mind manipulation? on yunho’s part? bc venom is in his head? idk, praise/degradation, pet names/name calling, teasing, fingering, hand kink….,, SIZE KINK., manhandling, pussy eating, tongue kink, raw feral sex (doggy + missionary), bro has a monster cock, also monster fucking!! bc venom takes over <3, cum eating, breeding kink, bulge kink, dacryphilia, mind break, record breaking creampie

a/n: listen …….i LOVE venom, the things i would let venom do to me would set humanity back at least fifty years. NOW VENOM YUNHO ON THE OTHER HAND,, oh boy. boyyyy oh boy. i don’t think i have to explain myself when it comes to that combination bc this fic speaks for itself lol. are you curious now? why don’t you give it a peek then, hm? (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ and then lemme know what you thought of it pretty please? <3

song rec: new woman - lisa feat. rosalía (get it bc he’s a new man - bc of venom - 😼)

fictober 2024

“And just where have you been, Jeong Yunho?” you asked your boyfriend in a more teasing manner than anything, once he snuck in past the sliding glass door of the balcony, getting up from the couch you were waiting restlessly on. When he stood there silently just looking at you through the white eye shaped sections of his mask, you pouted, nervously wrapping a lock of hair around your finger. “Just be honest with me and I won’t be mad, okay?” 

Despite the lack of sleep, you were ready for him this time. He wasn’t about to casually sneak in or out of the house another night that week without you catching him. Usually, you wouldn’t have been concerned because you were used to him being gone when there was crime taking place or a super villain that needed to be brought to justice, but recently…your boyfriend was acting strange. He was starting to become moody and secretive, opting to brush you off when you asked him about it. Yunho had even taken up using substances in his free time, finding him drunk or high off his ass in the apartment when you got home from work. The final straw was when you came home one night to find him in the kitchen with freshly dyed hair and new piercings he had given himself, a few empty boxes of black hair dye and bloody safety pins laying haphazardly on the kitchen counter. 

Yunho took off his mask and rubbed at his eyes like he was tired, leaving a bit of smeared eyeliner underneath them, before shoving his hands into the pockets of his frayed jacket, the one that was slightly zipped just enough to cover his iconic red suit. 

“She knows about us,” said the annoying parasite that had just recently made a home inside him. “We should eat her.”

“No, I’m not doing that,” Yunho grumbled, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

You walked up to him, gently putting a hand on his chest. “Yun, I just wanna know where you were at, that’s all. You know I respect your space,” you murmured, your pout growing slightly, your eyebrows upturned with concern. 

“She’s looking at us with those big round eyes again, Yunho,” Venom told his host, letting out a disgusting groan only he could hear. “It’s gonna make us hard. If we’re not going to eat her, let’s fuck her, at least.” 

“Mingi asked me to take care of some douchebags that had been causing trouble at that new club he works at. That’s all, baby,” Yunho replied softly, reaching down to press the back of his hand against your cheek, before cupping it. He noticed the teary look inside your doe eyes. “Hey, are you okay?” 

You nuzzled into his big warm hand, before reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck to hold your boyfriend close. “I’m fine…I’ve just been worried about you, Yun. You’ve been acting a bit…different.” 

“Let’s show her just how different we’ve become, Yunho,” Venom egged him on, knowing Yunho could feel just how much he wanted to break through the barrier of his host’s mind and take control. “She’ll love it.”

How could he possibly explain to you that he was always in a never ending battle with a frightening otherworldly parasite that had found its way inside of him? You would be so scared and disgusted, you’d probably never trust him again. He couldn’t risk losing you, not when you were his only anchor to the normal life he desperately craved, and the first person he’s ever felt this strongly about. 

“I’m just going through a phase, I think,” Yunho expressed wholeheartedly, resting his hands around your waist, his thumbs slightly pressing into your hip bones through your sleep shirt, feeling just how delicate you truly were. You were so small compared to him, practically swimming in one of his band t-shirts that you regularly wore to bed; you were so tiny and cute, and…”Malleable,” Venom finished. Yunho couldn’t tell if the parasite was influencing all of his thoughts or if he was just that perverted. 

“Do you wanna talk about it, Yun?” You pressed yourself closer to Yunho, feeling his large hands enclose around your small waist, making you feel a bit dizzy. When he shook his head, you tilted yours, wondering if what you felt pushing against your middle was exactly what you thought it was. “Or, do you want to take me to bed?” 

It had felt like forever since Yunho had touched you, kissed you even. You had almost forgotten what it was like to feel him inside you, filling you up over and over again until his love spilled out. Just the thought alone made your body begin to overheat. Was it wrong of you to take his simple answer at face value? Should you have pushed the issue, instead of letting him push you back into the wall of the hallway? You weren’t sure, but you were just grateful that your boyfriend still wanted you like this. 

“Did punching those guys at the club make you this horny?” you asked playfully, a sudden shiver of pleasure shooting up your spine when Yunho’s warm hands snaked up underneath your shirt and began groping at your tits.

“So horny,” Yunho joked back, a shaky exhale escaping his bobbing throat as he swallowed. 

 “Nnngh, I didn’t know fighting crime did it for you, Yun.” 

“Knowing I’m already getting your little pussy wet just from this is what’s doing it for me, baby,” he whispered into your ear, having to practically lower himself to your height just to do so, able to clearly hear the breathless moan that left your lips. Yunho was already breathing hard, his mind swimming with constant racing thoughts that all pertained to his pretty little girlfriend and what he was going to do to you, squishing your soft flesh in between his slender fingers, using his thumbs to rub your hardening nipples in teasing circles. 

It had felt like eternity since Yunho had allowed himself to feel you underneath his touch, to even simply look at you with unbridled lust. He wanted to see all of you, witness the way you completely opened yourself up to him. It was driving him insane. Was it selfish of him to give into temptation when there was something else living inside him? Something that he knew was taking even more pleasure in this than he was? He wasn’t exactly sure, but he knew it was far too late to stop now. 

“Let us see her tits, Yunho, they feel so nice inside our hands, we need to see,” Venom demanded, desperately shaking the bars of his figurative cage. 

When Yunho tugged your shirt up and over your tits, your gasp became muffled, your eyes widening as he stuffed the hem of the shirt into your mouth. You were going to close your legs to keep your arousal from spilling down your thighs, but your eager boyfriend pushed his larger one in between them. 

“You’re so pretty, angel,” Yunho cooed softly, admiring the way you began to grind your cunt against his thigh, despite the sheepish expression you offered him, a bit of drool escaping the corner of his mouth from witnessing such a display of pure desperation. “Look at you go…rubbing yourself all over my thigh like a horny little slut.” 

“N-not a slut,” you whimpered softly, his insult causing a fresh wave of slick to leak out onto Yunho’s torn jeans. “Just need you, Yuyu.” 

“Her breeding hole needs to be trained to handle my size. Do it now,” Venom growled into Yunho’s mind, growing more and more demanding by the second, very aware that his host was starting to lose control of himself. 

“Yeah? How about this?” Yunho pulled your panties to the side so that he could watch as your greedy cunt swallowed up one of his long, bony fingers to the knuckle. “Is that enough, baby?” 

“I meant with your human sized cock, you insufferable prick,” Venom chided, simply not understanding the pleasurable benefits that prolonged foreplay could offer being the inhibited hothead that he was. 

Something about the way Yunho was taking his time with unraveling you, the way he was drinking in the sight of your bare body with pure lust inside his dilated eyes, all while he had one of his digits plunged inside you. It made you pulse and squeeze around it. “F-full.”  

“But I barely fit one finger inside you, sweetheart. What’ll happen if I put another?” Yunho suddenly tugged your borrowed t-shirt up and over your head, leaning in close to your face to catch the way your breath hitched as soon as he slipped another finger inside, curling them just enough to hit your sweet spot each time he finger-fucked you, earning a few whiny moans from his beloved girlfriend. “Oh, that’s right. You turn into my little sex toy, don’t you?” 

“Y-esss, Yuyu, just for you, fuck,” you cried out, hooking your arms around his neck to keep yourself from completely melting into the floor. 

“That’s a good girl,” he groaned into your ear, quickly stuffing his thick digits into you, unable to get Venom’s ungodly thoughts out of his head all the while, unable to keep himself from shoving a third finger into you, your slick walls pulsating around him. “You think you’re feeling full now…just wait till my cock’s inside you.”

Gasping, your nails dug into his back through his clothes. “Oh my god, Yunho, give it to me, please, please, please,” you whined breathlessly into his neck, trembling in his arms as overwhelming pleasure washed over you. “N-need your cock in me.” 

“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re already begging to be fucked like that. I almost forgot how much of a needy little slut you are when you need cock. You like the thought of me stretching out your little pussy that much, huh?” He smiled against your heated skin when you whimpered and nodded eagerly, not allowing you to witness the brief moment his eyes turned completely black. “I just might split you open.” 

You almost didn’t recognize your boyfriend when he tossed you onto your shared bed like you weighed close to nothing, and you certainly didn’t recognize him when he manipulated your limbs until you were laying with your head down against the mattress and your ass up in the air. Usually, he wanted to do missionary, so that he could kiss and look at you when you both came undone, but now, now he had you in a position that was apparently ‘perfect for breeding’, or at least, that’s what you thought you had heard him mumbling about from behind you. 

“Now’s the time, human. We must show her how great we are,” the alien reminded Yunho, delighted that his black parasitic poison was now making its way through his host’s veins, showing up from underneath his milky skin. It was changing him in ways that would most definitely benefit all three of you. 

Yunho squeezed his large hands into the sides of your ass and spread it open, hyper focused on your dripping cunt and how it struggled to accommodate his obscene size. “Poor baby’s so tiny, my little princess can barely take me inside her pretty cunt,” he sighed, pulling out just enough to send a few strands of spit onto his own cock, lubing up the base of it and pushing back in, a shiver of pleasure shooting up his spine as soon as he heard the broken cry that left your drooling mouth. “Looks like we’re going to have to break you in.” 

You felt like you were losing your mind. Your boyfriend had just barely bottomed out inside of you and you were already about to cream yourself. And, it might’ve been the cock drunk state you were in, but you swore to god that his dick got bigger. It felt like it was kissing your cervix already and he hadn’t even moved yet. Not to mention, it felt so hot inside you, and there was so much pre-cum coating your walls, you almost thought he had came prematurely, but he would’ve been asleep and snoring away already if he did. 

Yunho violently interrupted your train of thought by slamming his hips forward, letting out a deep, long groan as though he were experiencing euphoria. He grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back, tucking them together so that he could hold them both with one large hand, and quickly got to work, yanking you back onto his cock, using you like his own personal sex doll. “That’s fucking it, isn’t it, angel? You like that? You fucking like that?” 

“Yeah, fuck me,” you moaned back, realizing this ‘phase’ of Yunho’s was one of the best things that could’ve ever happened to the both of you, previously unaware that something this rough, something this animalistic, could feel as good as it did. 

“She’s ours, she’s ours, Yunho, fuck, we’re going to cum inside her,” Venom blissfully announced into Yunho’s head, fully taking over his host in that very instant, gracing Yunho with the symbiote’s much more endowed features. 

It was then that you let out a sudden gasp, the air that quickly filled your lungs leaving as a wavering moan of pleasure instead. It was almost as if Yunho’s cock had grown twice in size. You didn’t even know how that was possible, but you were too lost in the moment to question it. “So big, it’s so fucking big, Yunho, nnnngh, it’s gonna break me,” you exhaled, quickly pulling at the sheets once he gifted you partial physical autonomy, your eyes beginning to disappear underneath your eyelashes. 

“That’s right, pretty girl, and you’re going to keep taking it all, even after I’m done impregnating you,” Yunho agreed huskily, bending over you until his overheated body pressed into your shoulders and back, his long fingers curling around the softness of your hips. Just as his never ending seed spilled into you and made its way into your womb, Yunho dragged his long tongue up in between your straining shoulder blades and along your neck, savoring your flavor. He truly wanted to eat you, unable to stop drooling, but the annoying mortal he shared this body with wouldn’t let him. Venom figured he would have to settle for the next best thing.  

You didn’t even have a chance to finish shaking, let alone take a breath, before you were being lifted up and lowered back down onto your boyfriend’s face, your cunt fitting snugly between the curves of Yunho’s lips and nose. Just as he lapped at your extremely sensitive clit and slit, you couldn’t help but jolt away, his forearms suddenly locking tightly around your middle. “O-oh…!” 

“Hold still. Need a taste of this pretty cunt,” Yunho growled under his breath, angling his head back and opening his mouth wide enough so that he could explore the entirety of your used cunt, licking and drinking up the mixed arousal that spilled out of you to his heart’s content.

“Y-yunhooo,” you whined pathetically, reaching forward to hold onto the headboard to keep yourself from passing out from the pleasure that was overloading your mind, looking down to watch how he eagerly nosed at your clit. “Fuck, i’ll cum again…” 

“Then, do it, princess.” Just as he swallowed down more of your wetness, he realized it wasn’t enough, unable to keep himself from sliding the entirety of his tongue inside you, feeling you clench around the base of it. 

“Oh my god, your tongue, it’s so–haaaah,” you reacted breathlessly, digging your nails into the wood of the headboard, the longer his serpent-like tongue slithered in and out of you so seamlessly, unable to fully understand how any of this was possible. When the thickest part of his appendage rubbed at your g-spot, you saw white around your vision, your ears ringing, unable to hear the filthy slurping sounds Yunho was making underneath you as he drank up your squirt. 

When you came to, you were back underneath Yunho, in the missionary position he loved so much, yet this time it was profoundly different. His eyes were as dark as his freshly dyed hair, one corner of his mouth split open, inviting a myriad of long, serrated fangs, all while black wispy tendrils clung onto one side of his face like a second skin. You realized too late why Yunho was acting so out of character, and that you were never actually alone with him the past few weeks. You had an uninvited guest, an alien symbiote known as Venom, to be exact — and here you were, face to face with him, his disgustingly oversized cock stretching you wide open.

“Oh god, you’re actually going to split me open, what the fuck,” you gasped sharply, clutching the sides of Yunho’s cheeks, your fingers tugging at the ends of his sweaty hair. 

“Silly human, as much as we’d enjoy seeing that, you won’t split apart. You have a prime body for breeding, didn’t you know?” he chuckled darkly in a two-toned voice, pressing his hand down into your abdomen to feel the sheer size of himself protruding through your lower belly each time his hips routinely smacked into yours. “We knew Spider-man’s pretty little girlfriend would make a perfect host for our offspring. Just look at you, you’re taking us so well.” 

You didn’t know what was going to break your mind first, the fact that you were essentially being used as a breeding tool for an alien that would take great pleasure in swallowing you whole, or the fact that your cunt was eagerly swallowing up something so absurdly large, its heavy girth and width stretching you so wide, it felt as though you would fall apart at any given time. Despite the insanity of it all, your body and mind welcomed it, creaming yourself on his alien cock. 

“Good girlll,” Yunho praised, letting his long slimy tongue slip out to lick up the side of your cheek until he tasted the salt from the tears that fell down your face. He fully sheathed himself inside you one last time, before his large hands cemented around your waist, holding you completely still as his hot load joined the other one he had previously fucked into you, his heavy breaths warming the skin of your neck. “That’s it, princess, take it all, just like that…” 

You could hardly breathe, let alone move, simply laying still in your boyfriend’s arms, taking everything he gave you, as wave after wave of cum coated the insides of your aching cunt and flooded womb, some of it spilling down the insides of your legs and dripping onto the stained sheets below. It felt so good to be filled up in such a way that you came again without direct stimulation, letting out a broken cry, before Yunho silenced you with a kiss. 

When you opened your teary eyes, your boyfriend’s previously monstrous traits were gone, instead replaced with his usual soft, flushed features that you adored so much. You watched him open and close his mouth, as if he didn’t know what to say. You pressed another kiss to his lips, gently running your fingers through his hair. “Should we go to the drugstore to get Plan B?”

Yunho gave you a goofy, though apologetic smile, leaning his face into your neck to give it a few kisses. He pulled himself back up to face you, his eyebrows upturned. “D-do you think it would work on an alien symbiote?” 

You patted his head, knowing what you signed up for when you decided to date the Spider-man, figuring one of his superhero friends would have a solution for the both of you. You gave him a soft smile, happy when he returned it. “If not, let’s get a refund.” 

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

fictober taglist: @littlefireball @crazylittlebisexual @luvbit3z @hwasbbyg @ane102 @linearities @hoe4yunho @tearfulsparks78 @sunkislove @binniesbabe @peelingpaint-heavyheart @prodsh00ky @dawn-iscozy @peachyy-jooniee @sunwoosbaby @screaming4san @cowgirlkller @markleecankickme @comicnerd557 @stay-thing-things @Alexxbear69 @kpopandthings @dekyepunn @m4m4-s4m4

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[depvotee]

I have so much thoughts about GhostMace, I'm going to explode.

[peachigummi]

is that right? ☏ mattheo riddle.

summary: both your parents had set up an arranged marriage. you both simply tolerated it for the most part, as it really was in the best interest for your respective families. over the year, you started to really develop feelings for each other - especially in wanting to expand the family name.

pairing: mattheo x fem! reader

warnings: jealousy, smut like literal major baby making so there is unprotected p in v and creampie, so breeding!kink, oral sex (giving and receiving), fingering, choking, gagging, slight bondage, almost public but not really?, cock warming... maybe slight daddy/mommy stuff naturally?. i think that's pretty much it fluff at the end. he is rough but talks you through it, praise!kink.

note: this is my first time ever writing smut...omg i almost didnt finish writing this LOL i had to stop midway then I had the post clarity and that shameful feeling HAHAHAH

word count: 7.5k

(slightly not really proofread...again)

reblogs & comments are appreciated! i hope you have fun!! tell me what you think!

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Both your parents had set up an arranged marriage for after you and Mattheo graduated from Hogwarts. You've been married for over a year now, living in a manor that housed both families. There was definitely some tension occurring, recently you’ve both started to further develop feelings. At first you tolerated your union as his family wanted to continue with a strong and pure bloodline, and your family simply wanted protection. 

You were sitting at your vanity, brushing your hair when Mattheo walked out of the bathroom with wet hair and a towel around his waist. He gave you a smug look, heading to the walk-in closet, dropping the towel and slipping on his underwear, his back turned to you. You wouldn’t help but press your thighs together at the sight of him, you quickly return to brush the knots from your hair. 

From the vanity mirror you look at his chiseled back muscles. He still looks as good as the first day you met him. You had the luck on your side for that, at least the partner in your arranged marriage was good looking…yet you craved having a chance to fall in love organically. You could count on a single hand how many times you and Mattheo had been physically intimate. 

Mattheo put on a shirt and grey sweats, shit, before walking out of the closet to approach you. “I’ve heard from your parents that you’ve been talking to another guy at work?” he says calmly but firmly.

You thought about it for a second, “Charlie? Yeah, he’s in training.” After graduating Hogwarts you were able to quickly land a job with the M.O.M. while mattheo stuck with DAD…aka the family…business. I moved on to rub body oil on my legs and arms, not looking at him.

He tried to not pay any attention to you as you moved your hands in tight little circles. Mattheo would love a good massage right about now too, he took a step back and sat on his side of the massive bed, “and what do you talk to him about?”

“I mean,” you scoff at him, “Mattheo, it’s just training protocols. Showing him around the work area, how to do things, where things are at. Not much else to it than that.”

He clenched his jaw, he couldn’t deny that he had an attraction to you, but he always told himself to ignore it, “that’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it.” You stood up from the vanity, clicking closed the boy oil. Setting it down where it belonged, you enjoyed having a tidy space. You sat on your side of the bed.

He looked at the way your hips swayed in your night dress as you walked to your side. You turned your head to look back at him. He looked so tense, “I hope you’re not lying.”

You stayed quiet, of course he wouldn’t trust me. You had never given him a reason not to even before the start of this arrangement, so it annoyed you when he doubted you. That might just be his nature though. You slid into the satin bed sheets, they were nice and cool to the touch, much needed after a long day at work. You turned your bedside lamp off, encasing your both in darkness. Mattheo laid beside you, he usually took to his side, but tonight he was feeling a bit off so he wanted to be close to you. Not making physical contact but enough to where you notice his warm body. 

You kept your eyes open, your back turned away from him, what was he doing? He never slept so close to you. After a long period of silence you spoke up, feeling brave because it was dark. You wouldn’t see his expression and he wouldn’t see yours, “are you jealous, Mattheo?”

He sneered at the question, as if the idea of him being jealous was a crime, “of course not. I’m just concerned that you’re doing something you shouldn’t be.” There was a small hint of jealousy in his voice, he hated to admit it but he didn’t like the idea of you with another man.

“I might have not had a choice, but I don’t plan to step out of this marriage. You have nothing to worry about.” You tried to scoot closer to the edge of the bed, trying to build distance from him, “I wish I could say the same with you…and your assistant.”

His face looked offended, but you couldn't see it, you could hear it in his voice, trying to keep it cool. “My assistant? You’re the only one that is allowed in my office.”

“That’s not what Draco told me.” Mattheo was able to recruit Draco back into the business. Draco was nice to you, he was like a brother figure. Your families were close. They would have arranged a marriage with him instead, but his mother decided against it. She believed in falling in love, and making the choice Draco’s. “He warned me to never let you go on any work trips or work late over time. He doesn’t trust your assistant. Draco told me she wants to take any opportunity to have you alone, where no one can see you two.”

Mattheo gritted his teeth as he listened to you. He didn’t appreciate that Draco was telling you things about him, in fact was pissed. He sat up in bed, turning on his bedside lamp. He looked at you with furious eyes, “Draco has no idea what he’s talking about. My work assistant wouldn’t do such things!” That was a lie and he knew it.

“I trust Draco. Don’t you speak ill of him. Why are you defending her?! YOU’RE the one who should be telling me that you wouldn’t do such things with her!” You couldn’t help your own jealousy come forth, you nearly fell off the bed.

He grabbed your arm to pull you back on the bed. Mattheo spoke with a calm and firm voice, “you have my word that I have never, nor will i ever, do such things with my assistant. No other woman can have me the way you do.” He admitted with a smirk, grabbing your chin and lifting it up so your gaze would be on him only.

You didn’t thank him for catching you, but you were glad he did. You lost your concentration for a split second at his admission. You regained yourself, “fire her then.”

He laughed at your demand, “fire my assistant?” A wicked thought passed through it. He could use this to his advantage to make you feel jealous, test the water on how you felt about him, “Why would I do that? She helps me.”

You crossed your arms, “you have three choices.” You count up with your fingers, “You either fire her. Let me choose an assistant for yourself. Or you hire me to be your new assistant.”

He raised his eyebrow at your offers, but still kept his cool, He didn’t want to show how turned on he was by how demanding you were being at the moment, “you’re giving me an ultimatum…” he smirked slightly, “and you think I’ll just do as you demand?”

“You better mattheo. If you don’t want to take it for purely my sake, do it for your bloodline.” I rolled my eyes. Fighting back the blush, thinking one day I will carry his child. 

He groaned at the mention of the family purity, “is that right?” he said in a frustrated tone, “you know as well as I do that this marriage is a duty to our families.” He sighed. “Very well, i’ll take you up on your offer, be my new assistant.”

Your eyes grew wide. You didn’t actually expect him to take that choice, far as you could tell he enjoyed being away from you even if it was at work. “I’ll call my work in the morning. See? Not so bad that I was training Charlie, he can take my place.” You tried to read his face before laying back down, this time closer to the center of the bed.

He turned off his lamp again, “let it be done. But remember, as my new assistant, I won't go easy on you.” He teased, there was a small smile on his face he couldn’t straighten out.

You reached out to pinch his ear, “don’t let it get to your head. I’m still your equal as your wife. Don’t forget about that.” You turned your back to him once again, closing your eyes.

His smile only got bigger at how fierce you were being, he must have struck a chord. He has never seen you so jealous. “Yes, yes… of course my love.” he mocked in a quiet voice as he inched closer to you, laying by your side. Not making much contact, but enough to tease you. You rolled your eyes, he only ever used pet names to tease you. You wanted them to mean something. You remembered the way he came out of the shower, you thought about his wide shoulders, his collar bones.. You scoot your ass closer to his hips. Two can play at that game.

Mattheo’s breath hitched, “what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m trying to sleep. Goodnight.”

He was so close to snapping at you, but he didn’t want to take the bait, “night.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next morning you woke up early to call and explain why you were leaving the ministry. You had to come up with a solid unsuspecting excuse. Mattheo’s family would not be too happy with it, being their spy and all, but if it meant my marriage could be successful, so be it. 

You were at the dining room table, it was empty. Everyone in the manor wouldn’t wake up for another half hour or so. Yet there was Mattheo in his black suit, “morning.” He found it amusing you were already ready for the day. He looked you up and down, a wave of lust surged through him. He thought you looked quite lovely, he almost said it outloud but resisted the urge.

“Good morning Mr. Riddle, sir.” You stood up, pulling his seat out. You rolled my eyes, but smiled sweetly at him, “I’m ready for my first day.”

He chuckled softly at how polite you were being, “are you now? And what are you looking forward to most today?”

One of the maids came by to set mattheo’s breakfast down. I smiled at her and waited until she left before continuing, “Sir, I'm looking forward to you firing your current assistant… in front of me.” You batted your lashes at him. Knowing you were going to meet her for the first and last time, you took extra care in how you looked.

“You really want to witness her losing her job, don't you?” He bit the corner of his mouth. 

“She should have watched the way she was acting with you, if she really cared about her job security.” Our blended family began to slowly trickle into the dining room, you laid a hand on Mattheo’s shoulder. you kissed his head. We made the appearance of a blissful marriage around them, not wanting a rift to occur between the families, “I'll meet you at the car in 15, darling.”

He tried his hardest to maintain his facade as you kissed him and left. He again watched you walk away, your perfect figure made his body tingle with desire once more. He excused himself from the table.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Mattheo turned the car off and unbuckled his seatbelt first to get out so he could open your door, “are you ready, my dear?” he questioned though he knew the answer. He didn’t think there would be any hesitation from you in regards to what was about to happen.

You nodded, straightening out your skirt. You followed him into the building. You felt uneasy to be around so many people who have caused harm and were plotting to do more. At least your family was safe, as long as you were with the Riddles.

Mattheo noticed and held your hand as he led you to his office, “Nothing is going to happen to you.” He offered you a chair in front of his desk before going around to sit at the main chair.

You couldn’t help but smile, you let it drop just as quick too. It’s all just part of the agreement. If something were to happen to you, poof~ there goes the bloodline. 

“Good morning, Mattheo.” A woman with a sickly sweet, sickly high pitched voice said with the entry.

He gave her a brief glimpse, he could already tell he would get a headache. His assistant was wearing a tight fitting top with a ridiculously short skirt, she was pouring him a cup of coffee.

You watched as his eyes followed her, gripping tightly at the chair’s arm. Draco was right, no one in their right mind would think of dressing that skimpy for work, if they were truly just there to get shit done. “It’s Mr. Riddle to you.” You said taking your left hand to your chin, making sure your wedding ring was up and front ready to gawk at.

Mattheo looked at you, he loved the way your demeanor was changing. He could see the jealous and possessive energy oozing off of you. He found it quite intriguing, a part of him wanted to test your limits. He reached out to accept the cup of coffee from his assistant, “is it just like how I like it?” “Yes Mr. Riddle. Just how you like it” she said, leaning over to him, finishing the stir. This made her skirt even tighter and her breasts were there to peep into.

You stared at Mattheo hard, expecting him to say something to the woman. He felt you, he had to admit he also was quite displeased at how his assistant behaved around him, but it was all fun and game.

“Now, what do I have scheduled for today?”

Before the woman could answer you interrupted. “I know one thing you have scheduled, Mattheo.” You tapped your foot. You needed her gone. Now. Draco - you’ll have to thank him at the next dinner party. You should have done something sooner. You can’t believe your husband was letting this slut work around him, dictating what he did by the hour.

Mattheo’s eyebrows slightly rose in surprise, he was a bit caught off guard at your interruption. He was so amused by how impatient you had become.

“Well we do have a meeting to go with the Boyles in an hour, can this wait?” His assistant said puffing her chest out to make it appear larger. You hated that she said we instead of you. That bitch. You got up from your seat, going around the desk to stand behind Mattheo. You snaked both arms over his shoulders and down his chest.

He held back a groan as your soft touch distracted his thoughts for a moment. He loved that you were making it clear he was yours. He snapped out of it when he remembered he was still in the presence of his assistant so he looked back at her, all the mock gone from his voice, “i’ll be quick… You’re fired. You're no longer needed here.”

The blood drained out of the woman’s face, her shoulder’s immediately fell. You gave her a fake condolences look.

“W-wuh why? What did I do? Is this because of the office party last week? It won’t happen again, it was wildly inappropriate.” She composed herself, taking a stab at you with the last portion. You brought your hands to Mattheo’s shoulders and squeezed hard slowly, as to not bring attention to the action.

His eyes darkened, “You knew the rules. My father specifically told you when you started not to try anything with me. But even after making it clear, you still chose to try and make a move on me at my own party.” His voice was deep, hiding the amusement that lay underneath.

Even though you hated the confession, you couldn't help but appreciate Mattheo’s honesty. You lessened the grip on his shoulders, rubbing out the part you dug in your nails as a way of saying thank you.

“I was so drunk Mr. Riddle. I’m terribly sorry. I really need this job. I thought you were needing something else…I thought you weren’t getting pleased right. Mattheo, I'm sorry don’t fire me.” You wanted to scream as she pleaded. You can hear the poison off the back of her tongue. Seriously, that Bitch! With that comment you returned to dig your nails into Mattheo.

“My needs are none of your concern.” Mattheo spat at her, but she was right. He has been craving a certain kind of touch for far too long now. He did enjoy a good begging, no matter who it came from, but he wasn’t going to go against his marriage. 

You felt him hold your left hand, flipping it so that both the back of your hands were facing the woman, he was showing your matching rings, “I am perfectly happy in my marriage.” You couldn’t help but wonder if he meant that, or if it was just for show. I was happy too wasn’t I?

The woman looked at your hands that were pressed together, despite her disappointment, she knew there was nothing she could do so she bit her tongue and nodded in response. You watched her every movement, as she collected herself. She still didn’t bother pulling down her skirt or buttoning up her shirt, it was as if she still wanted Mattheo to see what he would have missed out on. To leave this image with him as a parting gift.

He simply stared at the clock, “you have three minutes to collect your things before security arrives to escort you out of the building. Do not leave anything behind because it will be incinerated. My father will deal with your severance…if he gives you anything. Especially after I tell him why I had to fire you.”

She turned to the door, stole a glance back at Mattheo, and left the room. You stayed put behind Mattheo. You didn’t want him to see your face just yet. You needed to cool down. 

He groaned loudly and leaned back into your touch, rubbing a hand over his face, “I don’t even know why I kept her for so long. She wasn’t even that good at her job” he smirked, still wanting to test you.

“Don’t play stupid, I know I won't. Clearly there was something going on!” You scoffed, “to think you were getting so mad at Draco for warning me!”

He took your hand pulling you over to sit on his lap, “there was absolutely nothing going on. I didn’t ask her for anything outside of work related things. I would have never let her touch me, she thought I was unhappy in our marriage.”

“Why would she think you were unhappy hmm? Why was she assuming, let’s be honest, she assumed correctly that you weren’t getting needs met. How were you acting with her, tell me now.” You couldn’t help but feel like a little girl on his lap, a little girl who was throwing a tantrum for not wanting to share a beloved stuffed animal.

He rested his chin on your shoulder as he spoke into your ear, “it was probably because I was often short tempered with her, but I promise it was mostly due to her not doing her job correctly.” His lips brushed against your neck.

Yeah that kind of sounds like Mattheo, he liked things done a certain way, and he didn’t like when it veered off the track. But then again, even in school he was a massive flirt. So how much was the tension between the two due to his short temper and how much was his charm? 

“She’s not worth even a moment of your thought.” He mumbled against your ear, sending a shiver down to your core. He placed a gentle kiss right under your jaw. His hands ran down your thighs, squeezing ever so lightly.

You let out a faint moan, “Mattheo…” You couldn’t remember exactly the last time you were like this, it was very rare. While in school, you remembered how everyone wanted him. He allowed them to play games with him, he loved to toy with them too. But the girls knew, they ultimately knew they had no chance ending up with him. Our arranged marriage wasn’t a secret. 

He continued to press kisses over your neck, occasionally nipping and sucking gently on your skin, enjoying the way your body responded to his touch. He grabbed one leg and forced you to face him, your knees now on either side of his thighs, straddling him. He then wordlessly cast a spell on the door with his wand, so it wouldn’t be opened. He didn’t even look at the door, he didn’t need to carefully aim. You could feel your core getting embarrassingly wet at the simple gesture. “Mattheo, we shouldn’t..” you panted. 

“Maybe you’re right…” He responded, though he didn’t stop his ministrations. He captured your lips with his, kissing you hungrily as he pressed his body against yours. His hands exploring over your body. 

You let your hands go up the back of his neck, tugging at his dark curls. They were so soft and velvety. Fuck. He felt so good, you could feel him press against yourself. You forgot how big he was, you wanted to just dry hump him to feel satisfied with yourself right now. You couldn’t bring yourself to it, you tried to speak between his hasty sloppy kisses, “Matty…you do have a meeting soon.”

He loosened his grip ever so slightly, “then do your job. and cancel. it.” He said through gritted teeth, planting kisses on your collarbone. Without looking he pulled his phone closer to you. He hoped you would make the right choice.

You nodded shifting in his lap, earning a groan. What a start to my new job. “What’s the extension to Boyle’s assistant?” You grabbed the receiver trying to hold it and keep your breath steady. Mattheo whispered it against your ear lobe. You grew impatient once more as you continued to hear it ring on the other end. C’mon answer.

“Hello, how may I direct your call?”

“Hi um” you looked down at Mattheo’s sweet brown eyes that were following you, pleading with yours, you tried to get him to pause with his lip exploration for a second, “I’m Mr. Riddles’ new assistant - we..I..we..sorry he needs to” damn ..girl I NEED TO! Mattheo muffled his own giggle with his hand. Enjoying how you kept messing up, obviously your mind has started to get clouded.

“Y/N/N?” The woman on the other receiver said, your old nickname from school.

“Oh my god, Daphne? Hey! I didn’t recognize your voice…!”

He watched you with slight amusement.

Daphne started to ramble on about how she started at this job, on any other day you would have totally loved to entertain her and catch up. You got along very well, but you cut her off as she explained, “um Daphne, we should go out for some coffee soon, we can talk then. It’s just that Mattheo needs the meeting with the Boyles rescheduled.”

“Oh..okay..is everything alright? It was an important meeting…”

Not as important as this.

“Everything is fine, is there a different time we can meet? Push it back a couple more hours?” You looked over at his schedule that his previous slut of an assistant left. You both ended up agreeing on a later time, you quickly thanked her and said goodbye. You clicked the receiver down, putting the do not disturb on for good measure too. 

“Where were we?” you shyly said, looking at his eyes that were gleaming with desire and excitement.

“I was thinking we could restart from here..” He readjusted you back on his lap, slipping a hand under your skirt skimming along the line of your panty. 

You missed his touch, his hands could sometimes be so cold to the touch that they felt like they left a burning trail. He pulled back slightly, picking you up by your ass to set you down on the edge of his desk. He used his hands to open your legs wider, ever so gently “Is it okay if I touch you right here?” you were already nodding before he finished, “Use your words with me. Do you want me to touch you here?” He padded his thumb against your core, still over your panties. “Yes Mattheo, please please touch me.” 

“That’s my girl.” He smiled proudly, he could already feel the want and need pouring off of you, and it was driving him equally if not more insane. He pushed your skirt up higher, revealing yourself to him. Ran his hands over your hips massaging them as you had done the night before. They felt so soft and squishy. 

You couldn’t help but throw your head back, leaning on your forearms. You moved your head forward to look at him when he retracted his hands. He had sat back down in his chair, admiring how he had you. You felt like you were under a microscope, to be so exposed. You tried pressing your legs back together.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, “don’t hide. Let me see you.” he pushed your knees back apart to regain his view. He pulled your dominant hand forward, he also leaned forward so you could touch the side of his face, “show me how you please yourself.” He watched with a hungry expression, clearly enjoying how you blushed and got flustered. Mattheo gently rubbed his thumb along your burning cheek softly, then traced it against your bottom lip asking for entry, “there’s no need to be shy with me, my love.” His voice was sweet and soft, “I promise I wont judge you, you are my wife after all.”

You let his thumb go into your mouth. You sucked on it, not once breaking eye contact, “shit y/n, that’s my pretty princess.” with his free hand he slid underneath his own pants and readjusted himself into a comfortable position. He took your dominant hand once more, putting it over your core. “Show me.”

You hesitated again to make a move on yourself, Mattheo pulled his thumb out of your mouth so he could wrap his hand around your neck, “don’t make me say it again.”

Oh my shit. “Sorry” you managed to choke out through his alternating grip intensity. You went over your panties to play yourself. You were so wet. Your hand was shaking with nerves as you rubbed over your entrance, letting your slick arousal coat them before moving them between your folds and finally at your clit. Mattheo was looking down at your movements. The hand that wasn’t around your neck, he helped by holding your panties out of the way, “so pretty, you’re glistening.”

“You..you have this effect on me Matty. This is all for you.”

“Good, you’re mine.” He choked you hard then lessened it once more, “and i'm yours.” He kissed you again before watching you play with yourself. You kept rubbing your clit for him. He let go of your neck, you felt your blood rush back to your brain. Mattheo unbuttoned your top, unclasped your bra and started to play with your breasts. Alternating and teasing each nipple. “So perfect.” He grinned against your nipples, biting it and blowing cool air on it. You yelped and he covered your mouth, “shhh.” He unlatched himself from you and sat down. He rubbed himself through his pants before undoing his belt. His eyes never left your wet core, it was purring for him.

He let out a small sign, laughing. You felt insecure for a split second, “what?”

“Nothing..you’re just doing..it wrong”

“Huh?”

“Here let me help you, princess. I’ll show you how I'd do it.” he moved his chair closer, moving your hand away. He just rubbed the middle and ring finger along your heat, it grant him a moan, “y/n, as much as I love hearing you like this. You’ve gotta stay quiet.”

You bit your lip hard, “I’ll try Mattheo but..”

“None of that, you must do as I say.” he gently inserted one finger inside you, curling it up against your wall. You moaned louder. He whipped his single digit out, “you’re so needy, even with a single finger? Sweet Salazar, what am I going to do with you? You’re hopeless.” He let out a haughty laugh.

“Baby..please.” You watched him stand up, taking his belt off the loops of his pants. You thought he was finally doing to give you what you wanted most, but instead he just wrapped it around your head, tightening it around your mouth, closing it.

“I’m really sorry I have to do this baby girl, but you just wont keep your mouth shut.” He wasn’t a bit sorry, you can tell by how he looked down at the sight of you. He was actually quite pleased. He gave you a kiss on the forehead, it was a sharp contrast to the leather belt wrapped around your mouth. Seeing you like this was beyond his wildest dreams, gagged before him. Mattheo sat back down continuing where he left off, but this time he inserted two of his fingers. He didn’t allow you to adjust to them. The belt indeed muted your cry. It hurt, you didn’t dare use two of your own fingers on yourself, and here he was with hands that were twice the size of yours.

“You’re doing so well for me, princess.” He whispered, inserting his fingers all the way and pulling them out the same. You felt a tear running down your cheek. He began to rhythmically curve them when they were inside you. The pain was quickly subdued with pleasure. You laid back on the desk arching yourself so he could go in deeper, “so now you want more huh?”

Still fingering you, he went back to suck on your nipples. He towered over you, you shook your head, “what is it?” He looked at your concern. You looked at his fully clothed body, wrapping your hand around his tie. You were naked, apart from your skirt, but it was so bunched up at your hips it didn’t matter. You couldn’t  be the only one bare right now, you want to see his body, “how are you still bossy with your mouth shut?” He laughed, pushing your hand away, “news flash, I’m your boss now. You don’t tell me what to do.”

Despite his words, he did take off his tie first, wrapping it around your wrists, goddammit, before taking off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt only half way. You could look at his chest that was peaking. You felt yourself drool against the belt.

He sat back down and continued to finger you relentlessly. He pulled out and tasted his fingers, “too bad you’re gagged. I would have liked you to taste yourself. At least I have your cunt to myself.” he welcomed himself into you again. He slowly ran his warm tongue up your slit, stopping at your clit. He did this a couple of times. It was so agonizing. Your eyes were bobbing around unable to stay open. With your hands tied you were still able to hold his head down to stop and focus on your clit.

Mattheo would have swatted your hands away, but he needed your touch as well. He wanted to make you feel amazing, he wanted you to forget your name and only respond to “wife”. But god did he also just want to already bury his cock deep inside you to feel some relief. He needed to be patient.

Your breath began to get shallow and unsteady. He groaned against your clit, your pussy was repeatedly clenching around his fingers, indicating you were close. 

His lips curled devilishly, he was thinking about denying your orgasm. He only wanted you to cum on his cock and nothing else. The only reason why he didn’t is because he loved the taste of you too much to stop, “you can do it, doll. Come for me let me taste it.”

You began to shake and grab a fist full of curls as you came. He gradually slowed down, helping you ride out your orgasm. You felt so relaxed.

He looked so full of himself. He pulled his face away from you, his lips were red and swollen from his own work. Mattheo held up his right hand, the one that was fingering you, you could see the wetness on it. 

With his clean hand he pulled down his pants and underwear in one quick motion. Rubbing his cock with his right hand, letting your cum wet it. He used two fingers to beacon you over, before he realized you couldn’t move.  He left your wrists still tied, and pulled you forward onto your feet. “Look me in the eye, princess. Do you promise to be quiet now?” 

You could only nod. That was enough for him, because he had other plans to occupy your mouth. He removed the belt around your mouth. With your still bonded hands you wiped the spit around your mouth, “God, damn.”

He laughed, “I don't remember being called God before, but you can't continue with its use.” 

Before you could reply with something snarky, he pushed you down onto your knees and had the tip of his cock at your lips, “Sorry, I can’t actually trust you to be quiet, so open wide and take it.”

You obeyed. Though you could only take nearly half of it before it started your gag reflex, “i love that sound baby,” he signed, “is it too big for you?” He didn’t really care for an answer, of course it was. It would have just inflated his ego more. 

“C’mon and let me in more.” slobber just kept going down your chin and onto your breasts. He bucked his hips at the sight, “you’re so fucking pretty.” Mattheo gathered your hair into two bunches, using them as handlebars. He was straight throat fucking you at this point. You began to feel faint, and he saw it too, so he pulled his cock all the way out allowing you to breathe. “You’re doing so good.” He kissed you on the lips, using his shirt to help clean your chin.

You were just about to say thank you when he reinserted his cock into your mouth. You pull your head back and he actually allows you. With your bound hands you stroke the portion of his cock that you couldn’t take in, pumping it. Admiring the veins running down it . You wrap your lips around his lip, swirling your tongue around. His precum was like a classified drug to you, it was so delicious. You kept at your pace wanting more to come out, “you’re obsessed” Mattheo pointed out thrilled.

“Talk to me, love” He touched your ear lobe. 

You spoke to him with his cock still in your mouth, so it slurred your speech, “yob ase s’ gob.” 

He chuckled but groaned with the vibrations your voice made, “what was that?”

You stopped sucking, “you taste so good!” you smile at him. This brought him to his knees, literally he kneeled beside you, he removed the tie around your wrists rubbing them for you. Both your eyes are on the same level now.

“You really are beautiful.” He said causing you to blush. “Don’t turn all shy on me now, princess.” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear in a soft gesture. “We’re far from being shy with each other right now.” Mattheo kissed you.

“I just like hearing you say that, my king.”

With a voice filled with affectionate warmth, “when you call me that it makes me want to keep you by my side forever, my precious princess.” He began to kiss you harder, “I want to keep you forever.” He pushed his soft side out of the way and pushed you onto your knees in front of him You arched your back so your ass was in the air, “this is what you fucking teased me with last night.”

You laughed, “yeah I know.”

“So you wanted this bad huh?”

“Yess Matty I want you.” 

He admired the scene in front of him. He kneaded your ass, biting it and making your cry again. “Don’t make me use the belt again.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll be quiet now.” You cupped your own mouth. You saw his jacket on the floor and took it under your head.

“You’re so obedient, it's very good. How haven’t I bred you sooner? I want you pregnant with the next Riddle heir.” He ran a hand slowly over your back, gently but possessively.

“I have actually been thinking the same thing. My body is ready for your seed, im..im ready for it.”

When you agreed with his wish it only made something in him pop, something shifted in Mattheo’s eyes. The hunger and desire growing. 

He spat out at your spread exposed pussy, as if it wasn’t already sopping wet. He just liked the idea of having his bodily fluids in you. He rubbed his full length on the outside of your slit, teasing you, “you think your tiny pussy can take my cock better than your mouth?”

Shit…actually that was an honest question. The few times you tried already, you were only able to take in 3/4th of his length before tearing and asking him to stop. Plus you both haven’t fucked in a long while, “Matty, I’ll try by best…” you sounded a little uneased. 

He pulls on your arm turning you to look behind at him, “We don't have to rush this. But I promise i’ll make it good for you if you let me. You’re my wife and you will be the mother of my children soon enough.” He let go of you, bending over to kiss your shoulder blades, biting them roughly before going to your ear, “I’ll try to take it slow, but I really need you to take all of me in, darling. I need my seed to make it directly into your womb. I don’t want it to possibly drip out. You can do it.”

You moaned at his words of encouragement, you will try your best. He continued to stroke your hair, “listen to me: you’re my everything. And I won't let you get hurt, okay?” He kissed your temple, “if it is too unbearable, just tell me and I'll stop. Nothing is more important to me than your comfort and trust…but I do want you to give me a baby. A couple of them.” He laughed like his usual self, “so please try hard to take me like a good girl.” 

You pulled at his hair harshly, “just fuck me Riddle.” with that he slapped your ass leaving a red welt in the shape of his hand and squeezing it to lengthen the pain, “atta girl”. He finger fucked you a little bit more before realigning the tip of his dick to your hole. 

You closed your eyes, and he began to press into you. It wasn't so bad, actually it already felt amaz - -- okay nevermind. He felt you squeeze around him, and he stopped to reassess the situation, “please princess, let me in.”

“Matty I don’t…I dont think I can” you gripped onto his jacket for dear life.

“You can and you will.” He reached over to rub your clit, it helped relax you and he kept sinking deeper and deeper in you. You bit the jacket. It was a crazy mix of pain and pleasure.

“There we go.” he was satisfied, he was finally balls deep inside you, “see I knew you could do it.” He stayed still trying to let your pussy try to adjust around him, “you’re so fucking tight. Actually, I was having second thoughts, but here we are.” He said proudly kissing your neck from behind.

“You’re so fucking huge Mattheo, you’re too good to me.” 

“I adore you” he whispered, “there’s no one else like you. You’re…you’re the love of my life. Both our parents saw that before we did. They knew we were meant for each other when they arranged our marriage.” He groaned as you squeezed him purposefully this time.

“I love you Mattheo. I do.” You manage, your words felt true to each other. With a tender grip he starts  to move his hips slowly away from you only to slam back in. Watching your face for any sign you wanted him to stop but all he got was a smile and, “I’ll give you as many children as you want.”

Without proper warning he quickened his pace holding you face down to the floor. You closed your eyes tightly, locking your jaw. You inhaled his smell through his jacket. Pain was being replaced with a pleasurable numbness. Your brain was going utterly stupid, “make me pregnant Mattheo. Let me make you into a proper daddy.” 

He chuckled at that, “fucking take my dick then. I’ll make you the most beautiful mommy there is. You're such a good wife and I know you’ll be the best mother to my children.”

Mattheo pressed his hand just under your belly button, he took one of your hands and pressed it there with you, “can you feel my cock, darling? You can feel it through your tummy.”

“Yes I can. I feel so full.” You moan.

His grunt and thrusts began to get sloppy, his balls slapping against your clit. It made you roll your eyes behind your head, “princess, I think…” 

“Me too, let's cum together. Let's mix ourselves more.” You raised your ass higher, tilting it ignoring the back pain you were getting.

“I’m going to fill you up even more,” he whimpered, his voice faltering as if he was about to cry, “don't let anything drip out. Take it all in okay?” You nodded, holding your head up and twisting it so uncomfortably around to the side so you can watch him release himself into you. What a sight for sore eyes. 

His curls were plastered onto his forehead with sweat, his cheeks were flushed. Mattheo’s eyes looked back at your eyes with a longing you haven't seen before, “I love you Y/N. thank you thank you thank you.” He began to repeat, as he shot a large load into you. He was right, you could feel your tummy grow already. You followed shortly after, squeezing and milking his cock out more.

His breath was coming out in ragged gasps as he came down from his climax. His body was trembling, but he held you tightly. His face buried in the crook of your neck, “that was incredible.” He looked at you with adoration and contentment, “you’ve given me everything i’ve ever wanted. Thank you.”

“Thank you for choosing me after all.”

Mattheo was about to pull out, but you didn’t allow him. You pulled at his shirt, making him spoon you on the floor. You wanted to warm his cock, but also use it to continue plugging in his cum inside of you, to be marinated. You told him this too, and he flushed, “hey you said we wouldn’t be getting shy with each other, it’s too late for that.” He laughed making his dick still twitch inside you, you let out a moan. He grinned mischievously. You gave him an uncertain look.

Mattheo looked at the clock “yeah we should probably just move the meeting to a different day.”

“Do I really have to call it in again?”

“Yes yes you do, you’re my new assistant remember?” 

“Yeah and soon to be the mother of your children too.”

He wrapped his arms around you in a loving embrace. “I promise to take care of you and our little ones,” he said with sincerity, “You’ll be the most beautiful, loving mother, and I'll support you every step of the way.”

He tugged on the phone’s cord, pulling it so that it drops on the floor beside the two of you, “go on call again. Move it for next week.” He starts kissing your jaw again, moving his hips and slithering his hand back to your clit, “I hope you didn’t think we were finished, I think I can give you more of my cum to hold.”

“Mattheo…” 

[luvsupa]

a/n two posts in one day… ruh roh… (I miss gojo </3)

ex!satoru who doesn’t really understand the concept of being an ex. he just thinks you want a break from him. but permanently separated? hell no, he could never understand that.

“‘toru… things aren’t gonna work out between us,” you begin as he sits in front of you at your dinner table in your shared apartment. he looks at you with no emotion, as if you didn’t just end things. “we’re growing in separate ways, and i feel i would only—satoru.”

you could scream at him—he’s not paying attention, scrolling on his phone instead. he shows you the order he placed for dinner, coming in twenty minutes. of course, he bought your favorite.

“satoru, can you please be serious for one minute?” you huff, clearly annoyed that he’s not listening while he’s purchasing things he knows will make you swoon.

“i am serious,” he says, placing his phone down to observe your breathtaking features.

“you weren’t even listening,” you say, crossing your arms as you slouch in the seat.

“baby, of course i’m listening—you’re crazy if you think i’m leaving you,” he coos condescendingly, and you roll your eyes.

ex!satoru who, in fact, respected your decision and gave you your personal space, not exactly broken up in his eyes, just a temporary break.

ex!satoru who stays over at suguru’s place for a few months, whining every day and night about how he missed being in your arms.

“i miss her,” gojo says as he pets geto’s cat, miyu, while geto himself groans as he cleans his apartment.

“can you at least help out and stop whining like a bitch,” geto says, adjusting the pillows neatly on his couch. this only causes gojo to frown and embrace miyu in a tight hug, nuzzling his face in her soft fur as she tries to get away from his grasp.

“and let go of miyu, she doesn’t want you holding her.”

ex!satoru who continues to send you money, always sending you hundreds and hundreds of dollars for food, shopping, and especially paying for your necessities. he doesn’t care that you work for yourself—you’re still his baby, and he loves spoiling you. his money is your money.

unknown number sent $500! —go get some food, baby~ ♡

unknown number sent $600! —please unblock me on insta

unknown number sent $300! —i love u, mama

ex!satoru who chokes on his breakfast when shoko says you’re going on a date. gojo, never in his life, was speechless, and that really creeped out shoko and geto.

“satoru… are you good?” geto asks concernedly—even miyu jumps on gojo’s lap, sensing a difference in his character.

“yeah, i’m good…” he says calmly, placing down his utensils to pet miyu’s soft fur.

ex!satoru who does a little investigating of who this mysterious man is, finding his identity within ten minutes. he scoffs when he finds his social media—he’s nowhere near as handsome as he is. what do you see in him?

ex!satoru who sits comfortably in the luxurious restaurant where you and the mysterious man planned to go. little did you know, gojo texted the man, telling him that you’re married.

“aiko?” gojo hears a soft voice call as he turns to look at you. your eyes widen when you see gojo. this has to be some kind of joke—he is fucking crazy. you turn around, going back to the entrance, but gojo grabs your wrist.

“no, no, no, baby, please let me talk,” he pleads, and you fold from the way he calls you baby. oh, how you loved and missed the way he called you baby and claimed you as his own.

he guides you to the chair in front of him as he holds your hand, your pretty acrylics grazing his hands. he loved the way you looked well put together, his baby doll.

“my love, i promise to leave you,” he says, rubbing small circles on your hand. your heart pangs at his confession. “i just want to know how you’re doing.”

“i-i miss you so much,” you say. gojo feels like he’s hallucinating at what you just said. “shoko told me you were having a date today, and i felt so jealous—” you stammer, and gojo blinks multiple times, stunned at what you’re saying.

“this guy aiko asked me on a date, and i wanted to make you jealous,” you continue, frowning at being confused with your emotions. but gojo, on the other hand, is putting two and two together.

“give me your phone,” he sternly says. you stare at him in confusion, but you oblige, taking out your phone from your purse and handing it to him. gojo smiles as your lockscreen is still a baby photo of him. he unlocks your phone—the password still the same, his birthday.

“i was meaning to change the lockscreen,” you quickly state, not trying to look like a weirdo in front of him.

gojo goes into your contacts and clicks aiko’s contact information, calling the number. multiple rings go by, and the man on the other line picks up.

“hello—”

“shoko, i know this is you.”

you look at him and your phone in horror. shoko set you guys up by making a fake number to make you go on a date with ‘aiko’ but really you’d be with gojo.

“ahh, did my plan work? both of you kept whining about each other—it was infuriating. i had to do something,” she says on the other line, gojo clearly hearing geto’s giggles in the background.

“don’t ever do this again,” gojo says as he hangs up the phone. the two of you burst out in laughter, but for you, it’s more embarrassing that you were flirting with shoko through texts!

fiancé!satoru who proposed to you a few weeks later, he’s beyond happy to be in the arms of his baby again <3

[cloudwisp]

✮ sylus x wife!reader (2)

contents: tooth-rotting fluff. arranged marriage au. sylus as your sweet and doting husband who's simply in love with you and anything that you do. 1.5k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ thank you for everyone's patience who requested a part two!! I truly hope this meets your expectations <3

part one here. ꒱

⭒ You’re an early bird married to a night owl. After gradually moving your belongings into Sylus’ master bedroom, your different sleeping schedules were made acutely aware. His day is just beginning when you’re heading to bed and he’s more or less mentally retired after a long night of business dealings and meetings when your body decidedly rises with the first rays of light at dawn. Because of this, you both compromise to meet somewhere in the middle—Sylus sweetly tucks you in later than your usual bedtime and leaves only when you’d fallen asleep, and you snuggle with him in the mornings until the very last minute and you’re forced to get ready for the working day. However, his sleeping patterns are more on the irregular side and he’ll check in on you when he’s supposed to be resting.

⭒ When Luke and Kieran witness you and Sylus bid each other with a goodbye kiss—an affectionate and wholesome display between lovers as your husband sees you off to work at the front door, they are stunned and lose it from the sidelines at the budding romance. “Wait, what just happened?” “Was there a development while we were gone?” The crow twins would share glances and decipher the scene before them together. They both have been rooting for you and their boss since day one, and they marvel at the way you both are completely smitten with each other. As though you two are like newlyweds who can't get enough of your shared love, unwilling to separate just yet even as you slowly step away from Sylus.

⭒ His touch linger with purpose to hold onto every last part of you and his hands move from your waist and slide down your arms to hold your hands until his fingers curl slightly and mourn the loss of your warmth when he eventually has to let you go. When Sylus watches your figure disappear and return back inside his home he receives a thumbs up and pending double high fives respectively from his two henchmen. He walks past them and ignores their antics by giving them orders, but Luke doesn’t leave his brother hanging and celebrates that their boss is officially and undeniably in love.

⭒ Anniversaries were an unexpected thing to celebrate with Sylus—along with holidays and birthdays. You were caught by surprise when you received a gorgeous dress and pearls inside a pretty wrapped box adorned with ribbons after being married to Sylus for three months. You weren’t quite romantically involved with him at that point and went along with what he planned for the evening, and you had a feeling it wasn’t just a performance for the public at an upscale restaurant but he genuinely wanted to make this night special for you. Then something in the air shifted and became sweeter and you suppose you wanted to start making the smaller things in life count. Even if there wasn’t a particular milestone coming up, you decide to make one up yourself. After all, there’s a true saying that the secret to marriage is keeping it fresh and interesting.

⭒ With the help of the cute twins, they set up a cozy tent in the verdant space of the garden meanwhile you decorate fairy lights all around in swooping arcs and tight lines, arrange pillows and blankets inside, and place a deck of kitty cards in the center. After everything is where you need it to be, you show the boys your gratitude and send them away as you work on the finishing touches. You gather the plate of chocolate-covered strawberries and two glasses for the red wine when suddenly your husband sneaks up from behind you and wrap himself around you, inquiring about how the twins wanted him to come find you… Oh those cheeky little things. Well, never mind them. “Don’t tell me that you forgot what today is. Happy 300 days since our first kiss, baby.” You admit that it may come off as a little silly and no one’s truly keeping count, but you simply wanted to do something nice for him.

⭒ Sylus never passes up an opportunity to take care of his darling wife. Even if that means going along with your unusual ideas like you suggesting to borrow his dress shoes after the auction show was over. He throws you a puzzled look followed by a bemuse chuckle, and he supposes he could oblige if that’s what you really wanted. You explain to him that being well dressed from head to toe to match his outfit came at the price of your painfully, aching feet. And he can’t resist giving into your demands when you ask with such adorable little pouts. There are more practical methods to go about the situation, but he certainly loves humoring you even if things don't work out the way you thought they would.

⭒ Sylus leads you to a nearby bench and gestures for you to have a seat while he removes his shoes and bends down on one knee before you, unworried about dirtying his expensive trousers. He works diligently to undo the straps around your ankles and place your heels aside to focus on slipping his shoes onto your feet. “Well, you look quite fetching in my shoes. Now shall we continue our walk or do you have any more requests to make?” He helps you straighten yourself as he returns to his normal height. You huff and make a discontent noise when you almost trip over your own two feet trying to take a step forward in your (his) much too large and too spacious shoes. “Actually, these won’t do. I changed my mind, I want my heels back.”

⭒ Sylus chuckles at your hopeless attempt, his hand going on your hip to keep you from toppling over and accidentally hurting yourself. “Ah, it appears my shoes are too big for you, kitten. You say you want your heels back, hm?” He kneels before you once more as he retrieves your pair of heels, his fingers brushing along the underside of your leg and he carefully tugs them back on your feet. He gives your ankle a gentle squeeze as he finishes securing the straps, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. "There, I hope you're satisfied now, my sweet wife." His arm then goes around your waist and he effortlessly lifts you off the ground without so much as a warning. He smirks at your precious reaction, your body flushed against his meanwhile your arms encircle his neck for balance. “Why don’t I just carry you the rest of the way instead?”

⭒ You’re snuggled up against Sylus’ chest as you bring a concern to his attention one night. “What happens when our arrangement comes to an end?” The main reason you agreed to marry him in the first place is because it was a contract marriage with a specific time frame of five years that you’d have to spend with him. And you realize that with everything he does, he’s always been considerate of you as a whole even with how he drafted this contract knowing that it could end at his own expense. He provided you with a means of freeing yourself from him if you for whatever reason wished to no longer continue your marriage with him after the term ends. The choice is left entirely up to you because he never wanted you to feel trapped but he won’t make it easy for you. “If I decided to leave, you’d really let me go?”

⭒ Sylus hesitates for a moment, his gaze fixed on you and he seems to be thinking about something as his expression grows serious. “You always know how to ask the tough questions, don’t you sweetie?” After a moment, he lets out a small sigh and nods. “…Yes. Technically, you’ll be free to go. I won’t stop you if you truly want to leave.” Another sigh escapes him, yet his voice remains soft and sincere and he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and his palm cradles your cheek. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to stay. What do you want to happen when the contract ends, darling?”

⭒ You mull over your thoughts, teasing him with a pensive look as you purposely drag on the seconds. “Since you’re leaving it up to me, I think… I want to renew our vows at the five-year mark. How’s that sound?” A surprise and slight disbelief flit across his face at the same moment his countenance softens at your affirmation. “You want to renew our vows?” You offer him a demure nod with your sweet smile and he gently takes your hand in his, bringing it to his face and laying a kiss against your knuckles. “Then it’s settled. I would be honored to renew our vows when the time comes. There will be no more contracts or strings attached. We’ll be bound by our love and our love only.”

[robo-writing]

NSFW Alphabet - Logan Howlett Edition

Pairing: Logan Howlett/Reader Warnings: AFAB pronouns, breeding mention, pet names, bodily fluids, p in v actions, no protection, overall horniness, 18+ MDNI. Author's Note: This man is renting space in my synapses, send help.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He is so gentle with you, it almost makes you feel like you’re made out of glass. He prefers to hold you close once you’re thoroughly satisfied, enjoying how your body folds into him to be as close as possible.

If you ask him for water and snacks he’s gone within the second, bringing you whatever you need, and then immediately putting you back on his lap so he can feed you. Don’t argue with him on this, he won’t take no for an answer.

You collapse against the sheets with a sigh, legs still shaky from Logan’s excellent bedside service. You’re practically boneless when he pulls you onto his chest, the dark hair tickling your cheek as he cages you in his embrace.

“Logan, I’m sweaty—“

“Do I look like I give a damn princess?” He grumbles, his hands reaching down to smooth over your hair. “Just let me take care of you, alright?”

Your whining is just for show and he knows this, a small part of you feeling guilty because he always treats you with such respect. He’s not sure what kind of assholes you’ve been dating before but he’s damn certain he’ll be the one to teach you how you should be treated.

You melt in his arms, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of his large hands running down your back. His voice cuts through the silence, far more gentle than you’re used to. 

“Need anything else doll?” He asks, to which you shake your head. 

No, tonight you just need him. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’s an all around man, asking him that is like asking a man to choose between air and food to survive.

He loves playing with your tits, loves biting at the swell of your breasts before sucking on them, loves burying his face in the valley of them—

He loves using your thighs as an anchor when he eats your pussy, rolling his eyes when they squeeze around his head—

He loves the sight of your ass bouncing back when he fucks you into the mattress, the sound of your combined hips ringing loudly in his head—

He really just loves you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It only took one time for him to be utterly addicted to your pussy. He refuses to cum anywhere that isn’t inside you at least once, just the sight of it falling from your abuser cunt has him going back for seconds. The sloppy sound of your juices and his cum as he thrusts into you is like asmr.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Masochist to the extreme. You kind of had a feeling with the way he shrugs off pain but you didn’t know how bad it was until you scratched him just a bit too hard while getting your guts rearranged. 

Your nails dig into the meat of his arms, a deep-seated groan erupting from the back of his throat at the feeling. Immediately you look down to see the angry red marks left behind that heal within seconds, an apology on your lips interrupted by his voice growling in your ear.

“Do that again.”

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

The man is over two hundred years old, he lays down pipe like a master plumber. Knows all your spots better than you do, knows exactly what gets you going because he can practically taste the arousal in the air. Those senses of his are no joke.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary so he can see your face, doggystyle so he can fuck a hole into the mattress and breed you. 

Prefers missionary normally if only for the fact that when he puts even half his full weight on your body you’re forced to lie there and take it, unable to so much as squirm while he fucks you within an inch of your life. Enjoys doggy when the beast inside needs to scratch a particular itch that only seeing you ass up with cum dripping down your thighs can reach.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

A wholesome 50/50 of being love-struck and horny, he has his moments of laughter but they’re almost always immediately followed by pure lust. You’d think he’d be super serious all the time but he’s surprisingly gentle. He prefers to watch you enjoy yourself, he’s much more of a service top in that regard.

Want him to eat you out until you’re pushing his head away? Want him to fuck you nice and slow, keeping you right on the edge? Whatever your flavor is, he’s down for a taste.

That’s not to say he doesn’t have his rough moments as well. It’s very easy for him to lose himself so he tries not to go overboard for your safety, but if you ask him to let loose he’s not going easy on you. Just remember when you wake up unable to walk that you asked for this.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Not groomed at all, just an overall hairy man. He’s got the prettiest happy trail from his navel to his dick that makes his eyes roll when you drag your nails across it. If it made you uncomfortable he’d make an effort to trim.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Very intimate, wants you to know just how much you mean to him. Even when he’s being rough with you he makes sure that your comfort is priority. Talks you through it.

You’re face down, ass up, just the way he likes it. Your thighs tremble with the aftershocks of your orgasm, pussy practically drooling for him as your slick dribbles down the plushness of them.

It’s a sight that Logan could never get tired of. 

His fingers rub soothing circles around your sensitive clit, gathering your wetness between two fingers and listening to your breath hitch when he replaces them with his cock, lightly prodding at your entrance.

“How we feelin’ princess?” He asks, coating his length with your juices. 

You mumble praise into the pillow, and sure he can hear it with his enhanced senses, but that’s not the point—he wants you loud and clear.

Gently he lifts you off the bed, a strong arm around your waist as he rocks himself between your swollen folds, lips trailing at your ear as your head rolls back.

“Come on doll, I need to be able to hear you,” he breathes. “Tell me what you want.”

Your hands grab at his arm, a desperate whine on your lips. “Fuck me, please.”

His chuckle reverberates in your ear. “That’s my girl.”

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When he was younger and still learning how to fight his animal instincts, absolutely. Nowadays he doesn’t really think about it, but occasionally Logan will struggle with keeping his thoughts off of you, especially when you’re wearing something nice and he doesn’t have the time to drag you back to the bedroom. 

He’d prefer if you were the one touching him, but his hand will do for now, if at the very least to hold him over until you get home.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise - Like mentioned before, adores talking you through it. Favorite nicknames for you are princess, baby, and sweetheart, and his voice in your ear is like heaven.

Pain Kink - BIG masochist. Use him like a scratching post, he loves it. He’ll never admit it but if you bite his lip hard enough to bleed he’ll moan like a whore.

Primal Play - Come on now, the man is an animal at the best of times and downright feral at the worst. This extends beyond the bedroom too, he’s very protective of his mate girlfriend and would move mountains for her.

Breeding - This is an extension of his primal play, he adores filling you up with his cum, whether or not you get pregnant. Something about the sight of it just screams at him like a claim that only he can give you. It’s his cum that paints your pussy, and no one else gets to have that honor.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Ideally the bedroom but he’s one of those people that couldn’t care less, if he wants you he wants you. It’s going to be up to you to be the voice of reason, and if that fails? Better learn to keep your volume down.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Domestic acts, making him feel like a normal man rather than the weapon the world wants him to be. 

Making him breakfast? His hands are playing with your hips the whole time, whispering sweet nothings against the skin of your neck, swaying to the imaginary rhythm he sets. Cleaning the countertops? He drapes his wide frame across your back, pinning you to the cold granite while he tells you how good your ass looks in your pants, heavy hands making it known just how much he appreciates your attire. Bring him breakfast in bed in nothing but an apron? He’s pulling you into the sheets and not letting you go until you’re screaming his name.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

As much as a masochist he is, the last thing he’d ever do is hurt you. The most you could ever convince him to do is manhandling you or spanking, but the moment he senses anything but enjoyment he’s on his knees apologizing.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Y’all remember what Doja Cat said about big noses? 

If he passes out between your legs he’ll die smiling, if he makes you pass out then he’s never going to let you hear the end of it. Very likely to overstimulate you until you’re pushing him off you, only to pin your hips down and keep on going. Enjoys palming your thighs and burying his face as far into your pussy as he can, his philosophy is if you can still speak he’s not doing well enough.

As for him, he becomes so submissive when you suck him off. It’s the only time he’s guaranteed to let you take the reins, he prefers watching you work rather than taking over. Tucks your hair back, strokes your head, whispers how good you make him feel and how your mouth feels like heaven. When he cums he’ll ask you to open your mouth before swallowing and the sight of your cum-stained lips gets him hard like nothing else.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Normally very sensual, can easily change with the drop of a hat. Long, deep strokes that reach all the right places and make you see stars. Massive service top vibes, one of those lovers that always knows what you need at the moment (he totally can’t hear your heart pounding in your chest, no sir.)

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yes, and proud to admit it too. Always promises that he’ll be quick, but it never is. He can’t help it, y’know? You make him feel too good.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes, but the catch is you have to tell him. You can throw him every hint in the world but he won’t so much as touch you until you use your words. Logan likes hearing how desperate you are, he’s a bit mean like that.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Why would you ever bother asking that? His limit is when you decide to tap out, if even that. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Didn’t really understand and thought you were insulting him at first by offering to use toys in the bedroom. It wasn’t until you gave him a show that he realized just how much he was missing before.

If anything, he doesn’t feel the need to use them on you, but loves watching you use them on yourself.

The small toy buzzes in your hand, the sound of it ringing loudly in the four walls you call a bedroom. Soft sighs accentuated by needy whines, baby pink sheets snaking around your soft thighs, the muffled sounds of your moans when you bite your lip—

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Logan says, mesmerized at the view, eyes glued to where the vibrator meets your swollen clit. He palms at the tent in his jeans, cock twitching when your back arches off the bed with a cry of his name.

He can fucking smell it—your arousal, your need—it makes him drunk, intoxicated off your pleasure. It makes his throat go dry, makes him want to crawl over you and keep you locked beneath him, greedily wringing out every last bit of it.

Your voice cuts through the fog of carnality, a gentle distraction from the beast that threatens to break loose with every passing second.

“Enjoying the view?”

He can only bring himself to nod.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s such a fucking tease it’s unreal, but he’s also very impatient. It leads to moments where you’ve been edged for so long that tears are brimming your eyes, and when you look at him with those puppy-dog eyes he can’t bring himself to hold off any longer, all previous plans discarded in favor of folding you in half and exposing your puffy cunt to his hungry gaze.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He gets louder and louder the longer you go on as his animal side overpowers him. He’s no stranger to noise but when he’s deep inside you he can’t help but resort to grunts and growls of your name, makes it known just how good you feel wrapped around his cock.

I personally like the idea that because of his mutation he follows mating rituals like real wolverines do, so if you’re into that he’s extra loud during mating season, to the point that he has to bury his face into your neck or else the whole building will hear him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Likes it when you wear his clothes because they smell like you afterward. Encourages you to do so, and maybe hides your shirts during laundry day as an excuse (but he’ll never admit it.) When you’re not around he’ll even hold the fabric to his nose and take a deep inhale, imagining it was you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

As mentioned before, an overall hairy man. Strong muscles with a healthy layer of fat, likes to laugh at you when you bury your face between his tits because they’re nice and soft.

When it comes to his dick he leaves nothing to be desired—it’s heavy, like real heavy. Nice and girthy with a fat tip that makes your breath catch in your chest every time he glides it in, the slap of his balls against your ass soon following suit. A nice pretty pink with a couple of veins running throughout.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Always when he’s around you, but trained enough to know there’s a time and place. If he had his way you’d never leave his house, but that’s also his protective nature talking.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Likes watch you fall asleep first to make sure you’re safe and sound—a bit paranoid and overprotective in that sense, but he can’t really help it. You’re the best thing that’s happened to him, so it calms him down to know that you’re not going anywhere. Once he’s sure you’re alright he’ll go to sleep, preferably with you on his chest.

[slytherinslut0]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 4th — virginity loss / corruption kink.

PART ONE | kinktober masterlist. | 2024.

pairing: mattheo riddle x berkshires!sister

summary: mattheo’s conscience can only hold him back for so long.

warnings: 18+, hogwarts uni (putting this even tho it’s obvious), jealous mattheo, flirting, tension tension tension, “we can’t do this” type of vibe, “your brother is right over there” type of vibe. bestfriends lil sister trope. part one of two.

Morality—what is it, really? How is it measured? Is it a linear scale? Could someone be morally sound yet sometimes make an exception when the situation called for it?

Perhaps it's subjective. Anything that falls outside of the law, that is.

Mattheo forced a breath from his lungs, the drink in his hand was tasteless, some watered-down excuse for a cocktail. But that didn't matter, not really—what mattered was the way you kept laughing, the way your hand lingered a second too long on that random bastard's sleeve. The sight made something concerning coil tight in his chest, but he stayed where he was, back against the wall, sucking down drinks like he'd been tasked to it.

God, this was stupid. Morality. Right and wrong. He knew the difference, of course he did. Just because he was a Riddle didn't make him a monster. Not yet, anyway. But that line, the one between you and him—the one drawn so clearly in the sand—was practically mocking him with its absolutes and daring him to cross it. Forbidden, off-limits, the one thing he shouldn't want.

His best friend's little sister. The good girl. A virgin, no less.

"Riddle—you coming?"

Mattheo's head jerked slightly, but his mind was miles away.

He waved a hand. "I'll catch up in a bit.”

Malfoy and Zabini nodded, slipping into the night, leaving him behind in the dim, crowded ballroom. Spring dance. Hours past dusk. He didn't even know why he was still there. Normally, he was long gone before the clock struck twelve, but tonight the room pulsed with bodies and the music hummed under his skin. His drink was half-forgotten in his hand, and his gaze was fixed on a group across the room.

Or, more specifically, on you.

You were standing, black dress to your mid-thighs, half-listening to boys from your year drone on about quidditch tryouts and the usual chatter that filled the space between your breaths. But your eyes—your eyes weren't on them. You were looking at him. A soft smirk tugging at the corners of your lips, like you knew something he didn't.

His heart kicked against his ribs. Where was that line again?

You winked, and he sipped his drink. He'd always said bad decisions made good stories—but even if this (unnameable thing between you) was a story worth telling, the people to hear it would be few.

The tension grew suffocating and he finally looked away. You took that as a win, but you weren't about to let the game end there—not after you noted the tense of his fingers around his cup. You excused yourself from the group, your body moving through the crowd like water, fluid and unhurried, weaving your way toward him.

You knew the line well, the one Mattheo pretended so hard to respect. Restraint wasn't his nature—it never had been, not in the decade you'd watched him take whatever he wanted without a second thought. He wasn't made for holding back, and it showed every now and then—every time his lips crashed against yours in some hidden corner, whispering confessions of how badly he wanted more, how he ached for what he couldn't have.

You loved pushing him to that point. You loved knowing how bad he wanted you. Your brother would lose his mind if he found out. But that didn't matter, not even a little. Not when Mattheo looked at you like that.

"Having fun?" He asked upon your approach, his voice a shade too flat.

"A little." You leaned against the wall beside him, close enough that he could feel the warmth of your skin, your presence seeping into the space between you. "What about you? You seem a bit...tense."

"Tense." The word came out bland, barely audible, and he took a slow sip of his drink, like he needed it just to find his voice. "Why would I be tense?"

You wet your lips, slow, deliberate, studying him with that sidelong glance that made his pulse skip. His jaw tightened, and his eyes—those beautiful, dangerous brown eyes—scanned the room with something too close to desperation.

"Good question." You tilted your head, gaze playful, curious, like you were dissecting him right there in the half-light. "Maybe it's because you've been watching me like a hawk. Like you're waiting for me to do something...wrong."

"Maybe I'm just looking out for you," he muttered, his gaze sliding to your brother across the room, lips locked with some brunette. Mattheo's eyes flickered back to you, just for a moment. "Your brother's a little...busy, after all."

You raised an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into an amused, almost wicked smile. "Ah, so that's it. You're just being my big, overprotective babysitter."

"I don't need to babysit you," he grumbled, though his gaze betrayed him, darting over to the group of boys you'd been talking to. "Just keeping an eye on the company you keep."

It was almost amusing—the way Mattheo stood there, sizing up your guy friends like they were targets in a lineup, probably mentally noting who he'd hit first if any of them dared to step out of line. He was different tonight—and you could have brushed it off, could have let that flicker of vulnerability slide, but that wasn't how this game was played. Not with him. Not with you. There was no room for naivety here.

You turned to face him now, full-on, shoulder resting against the wall as you raised a hand, fingers brushing lightly up his arm.

"Keeping an eye," you repeated as you traced the hard line of his shoulder, then down, lower, over his chest. "Ever my hero, Mattheo Riddle."

When your fingers grazed his abdomen, his breath caught and he grabbed your wrist—hard—the suddenness of it making you gasp. Then, he turned to face you, and his gaze finally met yours—really met yours—for the first time since you'd crossed the room.

"Don't." His voice was low, strained, like he was fighting himself as much as you.

Your eyes widened in mock surprise, that innocent look you'd perfected like a sport. You wore it like a halo you knew you didn't deserve.

"Don't...what?" You damn-well knew what.

His grip tightened, just enough for you to feel the heat of it, pulling you closer, so close you could feel the tension radiating off him. He wet his lips, and you melted—remembering how it felt to kiss them.

"Don't play games with me." He said. "Not tonight."

The warning was clear, but instead of pulling away—heeding his words and letting that heat simmer down—you leaned closer, defying every unspoken rule. The thrill shot up your spine, into your brain, turning everything hazy, electric. You were drunk on it.

"Why not?" Your free hand traced up his other arm and his gaze followed the movement, lips parting ever so slightly. "...afraid you'll lose?"

Before you knew what was happening, he had you spun around—so fast you barely registered the movement before your back hit the cold stone wall. His drink found the table beside him, his focus entirely on you.

"Don't to this to me. Not here," he whispered. "Your brother is right over there."

You glanced toward Enzo, still too preoccupied with the brunette to notice a thing.

"He's a little distracted, don't you think?" Your fingers on your free hand resumed their path, this time up toward his collarbone. But his other hand found them, too. You looked down. Two large hands, wrapped tight around your wrists, like he could stop the fire running through your veins if he just held on hard enough. Your thighs shook. "Gods, you really are tense tonight, aren't you?"

Mattheo's eyes narrowed, two embers gleaming in the night— his lips twitching in a way that made your pulse stutter. There was need in him now, a raw, visceral energy that vibrated between you. Untethered.

He leaned in, closer, his breath brushing against your skin. "You're impossible."

"Impossible..." you echoed, the space between you shrinking with every second. There was no choice in it. It was magnetic, inevitable. He leaned closer, and you—against all reason—matched him, drawn by a force you couldn't name. "Impossible to...resist, Matty?"

Your lips were so close, you could almost taste the flavours lingering on his breath. The heat of him drew you in like gravity, pulling you into that dangerous space where everything blurred—boundaries, rules, reason. His eyes flickered down to your mouth, his tongue darting out to wet his lips in a way that felt instinctive—

And then, the world snapped back.

Cheering—loud, raucous—followed by the sharp crack of glass splintering against the floor. It cut through the moment, pulling you both back to reality. Mattheo's gaze jerked toward the sound, and in an instant he took a step back, his hands releasing your wrists like you'd burned him—like you were the danger here, a fire he'd gotten too close to.

"We can't," he whispered, and it sliced through you. It hit harder than the crash of glass, harder than the noise around you. "You don't want this. I promise you don't."

You stared at him. You knew what he meant, what he was trying to say, the warning etched in every tense line of his body. The two of you had been over this before. You knew Mattheo Riddle was not the man who would love you, not the man who would stay, who you'd call your forever. You weren't that naive. You weren't looking for forever—you just wanted a beginning. A first. A first that would teach you the edge of desire, with someone who knew what to do.

Someone experienced.

"I do," you whispered, barely holding steady under the weight of it all—the realization that you'd almost kissed him, right here, where anyone could've seen, where your brother wasn't far. "More than anything, I do."

His jaw clenched, that flicker in his eyes darkening. He ran a hand through his hair, curls falling messily back into place, his face twisted in thought, already calculating the fallout, already seeing the inevitable consequences.

"Your brother will kill me," he muttered. "He'll kill you."

"He’s not my dad, Mattheo. I’m an adult. He doesn't have to know." The words came out firm, too firm for how fast your heart was beating. You didn't dare move closer, but the tension between you was still electric, still alive. "No one except us."

For a heartbeat, his eyes locked onto yours, and you felt it—that gravity pulling you both back to the brink. It was visible—the weight of his indecision, the way he was measuring the risk, the pull of you against the walls he was trying to keep intact. It'd been months of this. You were relentless. His scowl deepened, but he didn't pull away. He let the silence stretch, your words simmering between you like a match lit, waiting to catch fire.

And then, a nod.

Barely there, just a sharp dip of his head, almost as if he didn't want to acknowledge it himself. You couldn't tell if it was for you, or some silent permission he was giving himself, a final surrender to the pull that neither of you could fight.

"Room of Requirement," he said, vibrating with the tension that still hummed in the air. "Ten minutes."

Your stomach leapt into your throat, every bone in your body suddenly weak. After a moment that felt as though it went on forever, you nodded, and he took another step back.

"Ten minutes." You repeated.

"Ten minutes." He confirmed, before turning and heading out of the ballroom.

[kalims]

he's a ten but he...

premise. sometimes certain bad habits of theirs make their overall rating just a tad bit lower—besides the fact that they keep doing it.

characters. dorm leaders

content. gender neutral reader

malleus (doesn't have a sense of space)

"look beastie, that flower is a native of ours,"

"I agree mal, but I didn't think you taking up the entirety of my seat will make me see it better,"

he blinks, then shrugs.

like i said, has NO sense of space.

if an average person would make an excuse to constantly be in physical contact with who they admire, then malleus is the complete opposite. well, not entirely but he doesn't even bother to construct an explanation as to why he's literally sat over your seat when you coincidentally get put in a table together.

if you start questioning him about it the most you'll get in a very outright 'because he wanted to.' it's not even one of those sarcastic replies he's 100% serious!

cause he believes there's no use in lying about things to be honest.. to further emphasize that, if he ever acts like he does hold fondness for you that surpasses the platonic meter but doesn't mention it he probably hasn't realized yet.

if he did he'd already walk over and bluntly tell you about it.

(I wish I could be that unbothered.)

lilia thinks it's the cutest thing though. you swear you see flashes of light for a split second from the ceiling but when you look up there's only a suspicious swinging chandelier.

^ totally has his own album full of pictures.

if malleus ever discovers it he won't even be disturbed, probably would ask for a copy 💯

since human lives, and their bodies are so fragile he'd taken it upon himself to protect you from harm. even if it means trailing behind you everywhere way too close for comfort, or standing a bees wing away.

while he is respectful most of the time, he's encouraged if you don't comment. if anything, he seems pleased you dont seem to be bothered! (and it'll get harder to tell him to stop when he's so happy the more you let it happen..)

"child of man, have you slept?"

*starts leaning his body forward, to squint at your eyes.* practically right in front of your face.

"WTF."

not even a warning or anything! but atleast he's concerned?

idia (won't even show up for anything and insists a 'virtual' date is better.')

user: where tf r u??

ghoul666: WDYM? at the dorm?

user: IVE BEEN WAITING HERE FOR 20 MINUTES

unintentionally stood you up 💀

you literally have to tell him that you're waiting for him to arrive at the specified area you discussed where your date would take place but would end up vastly irritated when he questions if you guys even did.

ghoul666: we do??

user: I'm taking my minecraft bed away from urs.

ghoul666: NO PLS

ghoul666: HELLO????

next time you log in minecraft it's probably because he begged you to play, you WILL end up seeing some kind of structure that probably took days to make. that's not even the entire thing cause the inside is entirely decorated to your taste.

in short: he constructed some kind of venue for a wedding.. even changed his skin to wear a tuxedo 😭

though he has sparked your pettiness, hence the ignoring him period. even you have got to admit that it's freaking adorable...

big sign, emphasis on please: Im sorry pls put ur minecraft bed back I can't sleep w/o u and I have to wait entire days for it to turn into morning :(

with what he's built you're sure it's 65% true.

if you do end up forgiving him, few weeks later attempting to schedule another date will only end up in naught.

ghoul666: can we not go there

user: 😐

user: you are testing my patience love

ghoul666: 😓 (he is screeching about the term of endearment part btw KABSJAJSAJA ortho would enter his room very concerned.)

ghoul666: how abt

ghoul666: mimic together? call

user: sighs

user: I'm only agreeing cause I want to spend time with you

queue more screeching from his end that you're completely oblivious to.

the only screeching you're gonna hear though is when you guys do get into call as you play, and it's mainly out of terror when his soul gets sent to the void ascending when the entity pops out of a corner and starts chasing him.

"I GOT THIS. ILL CARRY U THIS IS FINE" *screams again* but really wants to impress you so he pushes through.

unsurprisingly does carry you.

asks to match avatars right after (idia love languange)

vil (frets over you way too much.)

"vil, did you see the chocolate in the freezer?"

"oh, that? I noticed that you've already gone through the ideal number of bars this week so I took it upon myself to make sure you don't go sick on me,"

"I love you but please give it back—"

"I love you too, and no."

disclaimer: he does this for your own good 😜 (average mom excuse.)

looks out for you more than he does for his own dorm residents. everyone is wondering where he ran off to after class, especially since he's the one that scheduled the pomefiore meeting every fridays!

and to think he was the one getting irritated over the more newer first years for being late..

*shows up literally half an hour in*

why you ask? you simply shouldn't have texted him about abandoning your daily walk together through the gardens in favor of catching sleep since you called in sick (you're suspicious if crewel really did go in to check for proof, and not concern.)

vil's really feeling the absolute regret of not checking his phone during classes.. well, he only saw the message which was coincidentally sent like somehow ONE minute after the lecture started and he's only seeing it 59 minutes later.

oh you poor thing!! though the lunch break is short, he has about 5 minutes for a trip to the mirror chamber..

you'd think the 'seen' icon below your message was a weird omen for something you're not sure but it must be doom cause vil is right at the front porch of your crappy dorm. at his own expense?! looking more disheveled than you've seen him before.

if a few stray hairs was disheveled at all. more importantly, he still looked drop dead gorgeous!

you probably looked quite terrible with the blanket draped around your shoulders looking like you just crawled out of your grave, because he looked absolutely mortified at your state.

"oh great sevens.." he looked like he was faint, huffing and fanning himself with his hand. "look at you, why didn't you tell me sooner, darling?"

you blink, swallowing to make your throat less dry but your voice still comes out raspy. "I did, like an hour ago—" without your invitation whatsoever, he steps in. promptly shutting the door behind him (which surprisingly still stands sturdy.)

vil takes a hold of your shoulders before reaching his hands upwards to tilt your face around. "you should have sent earlier," he says. you keep in the comment that you were sleeping during it, and you told him about it during second period so.. "your face is so pale."

you sigh.

"yeah, I just saw. I know, I look hideous right now."

vil frowns at you, stopping to angle your face at him. "don't ever say that. I always find you beautiful even if you are.." he glances at you from face to toe, then back up. "sickly."

"... I feel offended."

"hmph, shush now. let me draw you a bath then I know something that will boost your system."

after much coaxing in his end, you reluctantly take a warm bath in the hopefully hygienic bathroom. true to his word, vil did... concoct something. though it looked pretty the random steam that flew from it was really suspicious.

the residents don't dare to question, except rook of course. who already knew what transpired! :)

epel: 😃 (atleast vil wasn't around.)

"roi du poison~ tell me, tell me! is the trickster well? have you cured them with your love?"

"rook, you have 5 seconds to get out of my face."

rook giggles away.

kalim (thinks money will buy anything, including your forgiveness.)

"here!" there's a suspiciously bright smile on his face as he hands you.. some keys?

you deadpan, jingling it in your hands. it weighs heavy than the average, probably because of the fact that it's literally made of gold. "... kalim what is this?" you emit a sigh, from suspicion and concern.

"a gift!"

"wait why does it say lot 111--"

as you can already, that was an actual, literal house. which you imagine would probably be a lots more grand, and new compared to your old baby ramshackle.

but you do love it despite it's love for falling apart at the most inconvenient of times..

fighting with kalim was rare but it was hard to even argue with him because the notion of disagreements are so bizarre to him that he unintentionally doesn't treat you seriously with your concerns, accidentally downplaying them aaaand now you're upset.

after the ranting to jamil about how you must be busy with a lot, since you haven't even talked to him in the past 2 days. all it took was a side glance to his friend in denial and jamil immediately knew.

"what do you mean they're mad!? D:"

"just.. go apologize, I don't want to get caught up in this."

if his definition of an apology is buying you an entire house...

( ^ it is btw.)

kalim really doesn't mean any harm. he just really wants to sate whatever anger you held for him <- maybe he's overthinking it but it's kalim so he's 99% sure it's his fault! even though it hasn't even been confirmed from your end he'd probably accept it whole heartedly.

he wanted you to talk to him again so badly that he wouldn’t mind showering you with houses... since your living situation doesn't live up to your kindness (sorry ramshackle love u xx)

you know what. he wouldn't even notice he's the reason you're upset at first even though he's been asking around on who put you in that mood. despite himself being the perpetrator but he didn't really know that did he?

the only reason he does is because he assumed you were just because you avoided him like some sort of.. cockroach! (he dislikes those.) and he couldn't take it anymore.

was probably 1 sec away from barging into your dorm which wouldn't take a lot of effort since one ram to the door would probably break it.

bless jamil for jailing all the carpets so kalim doesn't find them.

even if said carpets fling him off when he's riding them.

"kalim, why would you buy a literal house... and you also got a rare address paid--"

"for them! ;D"

"... you do know they'd be more offended by the fact that you'd try to replace that.., ahem. dorm, right?"

"oh... should I buy them a vehicle then?"

you only promise to forgive him once he takes back the keys, and the house entirely...

(grim begged you to keep it, 'house for him apparently.')

azul (keeps trying to offer you discounts thinking it's a good excuse to have you over.)

"I assure you. you'll find no deal better than this."

"I'm not even that hungry for sea food, actually I'm craving some--"

"you're in luck then! ahem, it's 26% off due to a special event for today."

pro tip: keep insisting to eat at other places cause he's gonna keep increasing the discount by 2% until you eventually relent. once, you made him go to the point of 75% off, it's almost hilarious if not for the fact it only worked once.

now he won't go last 50!

ahem. if you look closely you can almost spot tiny cracks accumulating with each denial you respond with, and each increase of his discount. he's grown to be wary about the bullshit 'lucky' promos you just happen to stumble on.

last time you did he practically lost a week's worth of the presumed income he's predicted cause you actually went around and told your first year friends about it... who.. in turn told some, other friends of theirs about it and you could guess.

love must hurt.. and unfortunately it's his wallet wailing.

but azul is not so easily swayed by this! for you have swayed him first! *wink wonk*

but azul has another trick up his sleeve... keeping on roping jade and floyd into it; whom are far too enthusiastic cause finally— something fun to do! someone to bother! not only have you got the most stubborn octopus having frequent suspicious 'deals' but here are his equally suspicious lackeys.

who keeps.. talking about fried octopus..

yeah, you're not sure if preaching about azul’s species is the job they were assigned.

they're fairly easy to point in the right direction anyways. the tweels have always associated you with the word 'fun' so just a little, friendly suggestion from and they were off to their merry way. mortifying every single person you come across with their sudden attachment.

one of their tricks? following you around. and just somehow, every single place you enter is just mysteriously full even though you peered inside and there was like 7 tables empty. what are they hosting? ghosts? spirits?

...

they do look like they've seen some though..

jade rn: "a shame indeed, you must be hungry. why don't we escort you back to monstro lounge?" :)

long story short you can't even reply cause the sleek eel is already guiding you around by the use of his hands on your shoulders. just to make sure you don't stray away from the destination, he says.

"didn't you say that yesterday's promo was like, a one day thing?" you quirk a brow, and you almost fool yourself into thinking he flinched.

azul clears his throat. "well—today is.. the month before you've graced octavinelle with your assistance—"

he praises himself for his quick thinking.

COME ON! it doesn't matter if you're sick of eating stir fried shrimp, or the butter one, or every single dish they serve that includes shrimp! (also do not mention that you ate somewhere else before you just decide to visit his dorm because that establishment just mysteriously got filed a non-legal business report.)

then you've got floyd chasing you around with a fork. which is more terrifying because he's holding it in a notion that would seem like he'd just stab down at you when he catches up with your little goose chase.

it's just.. you're not sure if your stomach could take another bite of the poor food he stabbed into, and is now chasing you around with.

you screech. "JADE PLEASE."

the man shrugs. "it's a free taste."

"AZUL."

"... only on a condition of course."

frankly. it took all the balls he had to actually sputter out the most simplest sentence ever, cause during the time he rehearsed that in front of his mirror it just plagued him with embarrassment but he's getting desperate.

'I'd like to take you out to dinner, somewhere else of course.'

actually, maybe obliterating any possible craving for the food of his lounge just might've been part of his plans to ask you out..?

leona (prevents you from actually being productive via dragging you down to 'nap' every. single. time.)

"I will literally fail if you don't let go of me right now."

"hmph. so what? it's not like failing a grade killed anyone."

"leona just because you've lived through a lot of fails doesn't mean I have to, we're not all rich enough to not finish school."

to which he'd retaliate that all you'd need is to marry him and you'd be set for life.

there is no winning an argument with leona when it comes to his naps. if he states that you're to be next to him as he sleeps, its final. no buts, no retaliations, cause apparently they're all invalid according to him even if you drag him to court.

rhetorically of course, that if its a comical court scene his only statements are; 'well you're wrong', 'who cares', and 'i dont care'. one way or another he's still gonna win you over and now you're fit snugly in his arms, lamenting.

and if crowley chastises you for not doing the errands (via leona's common interference.) the only thing you need to honestly do is to complain to leona about it and suddenly crowley has the kindness to forgive you for your 'laziness' then says something about enjoying your time together?

leona's work no doubt.

you suppose he does has its perks. even if most of it isn't exactly ideal.

if you're being smart then you should give him an ultimatum or something, or bribe him. but... that really has no guarantee to work either cause you're ending up defeated, or just defeated and flustered since he's somehow unconsciously flirty.

at the end of the day you can't really hate him cause the following day you find out he sent an already sleep deprived ruggie to do your work. 'so you can shut your fussing up and let me enjoy you.' he says, and you quote.

it goes something like;

"if i finish my work i'll stick by you all day."

a stready flow of confidence keeps your voice firm as you glower down at the blank-faced leona sat on the grass. he merely tilts his head, raising a brow at you and seemingly pondering from the way his eyes fly to the sky.

you'd think that maybe your plan actually worked but he merely grunts and flops backwards, holding the back of his head with his palms as he laid. and! he ignores you.

...this little greedy man... "why should i care whether or not you finish your work?" he huffs, like the evil, arrogant spawn he is but you can't really defend yourself cause said evil spawn bewitched you so much that you actually still like him.

"because you care about me?"

"...fine," he scowls, releasing a breath you'd mistake for irritation. "then, do you really think i need you to finish your work when i can just keep you right here?"

you sulk. "i'll do anything you want?"

he deadpans as if you said something stupid. "i don't need you to anything else but sit still and be pretty."

...

...

see what i mean about him eventually winning you over? yeah.

next morning there's a rebellion in savanaclaw about overworked residents and ruggie is the head of them.

"he said that he doesn't need you today." <- ruggie, steering you away.

"really?" <- you, confused

riddle (overthinks TOO HARD.)

“I'm just a little busy.”

“I understand,” riddle says.

“I'm just a little busy.” he understands.

“a little busy.” its just… a small thought…

“I'm just busy.” his mind is a hazard at this point. 

for someone as supposedly maintained as riddle—you'd think his mind is as composed as it is organized. like the pens you'd perfectly align in correlation to order of colors, or the neat pile of clothing folded neatly, tucked in some corner in your closet that is farther in since it's used less.

that's just how he is, or at least seems to be. a bundle of organized thoughts, every thought connected to another. a mind too clean to be going on haywire (when he isn't in a particular mood, that is.)

you're just busy. he thinks. you said it yourself, with that agonizingly nice smile that must be sprinkled with some kind of spell from the way it just eradicated all the protests in his throat upon sight. he isn't one to question it, he wants to help but not if you don't ask.

he can only stare with resigned acceptance at your insomnia induced eyes.

but when the curtain of darkness befalls night raven college, even in the comfort of heartslabyul is he still thinking about that thought–and he can’t help but wonder; why exactly are you busy? its not that he’s suddenly hyper aware of your lack of presence since you’ve been attached to the hip the previous week and now you’re just.

…busy…

riddle likes to think of himself as a level-headed, private person. like the boy he raised himself to be and therefore proud of. but its way past 10AM. which is usually the time he sleeps, and let me tell you that he’s never once broke the cycle for years. yet here he is, a frown of frustration present on his face as he wills his mind to sleep.

somehow closing his eyes felt forced, he immediately snapped them open once his mind decides to conjure an image of you even in the darkness his lids offers.

“THIS IS ABSURD.”

and the yell promptly woke up the entire dorm from the ferocity of his scream. (and of course gave them the flashback of their year.)

that night was one of the worst he’s ever had because he woke up with red rimmed eyes and a pounding headache that ensured his bad mood the rest of the day.

everyone noted to steer clear.

and he unknowingly steered clear of yours since you were ‘busy.’

“why are you sulking?” a voice queried, spoken as though they were eating something as they asked. a reprimand rises in his throat, but it all just dies down once his sharp eyes settle on you, slipping into the seat in front of him then raising a brow and the traces of irritation practically evaporates from his eyes.

he feels the need to cough–so he does. “i’m– i’m not.” he clears his throat, avoiding your eyes but still sneaking in glances, something he notes is that you’re still looking everytime he does. (and boring an unimpressed face because he knows you don’t believe him at all.)

guilt rises in his mind, because he feels a slither of annoyance and its the presence of pettiness that bothers him. riddle knows you’re not at fault, just his mind at convincing that you just somehow decided in the span of a day that you might not like him anymore–so he can’t help the bite. 

“why are you here?” a glance not intended to look mean.

“i thought you were busy.” he adds.

your brows raise, he spots your teeth holding your lips back from showing your grin and he feels warm. “what?” he hisses defensively, despite you not even having replied to him yet.

he leans backwards, straightening up in his seat when your chin leans forward, resting on your intertwined fingers. you flash him a smile. 

“mr. rosehearts, are you perhaps… sulking because i’m busy?”

“no!”

silence.

“no.” he repeats, weaker.

“well,” you continue, beaming. “i heard from ace that you were awake the entire night, and that you kept him awake too. are you alright?” 

he sputters. “it wasn’t because of you!”

you snort. “i didn’t even say anything about me.”

so you incline to following riddle around, poking fun at him and still trailing after the seemingly enraged red head because despite his angry protests, demanding you to go away because you’re annoying he keeps glancing back to see if you’ll follow,

so cute…….

[kateschi]

same book, different chapters

synopsis: an ordinary evening takes a turn when katsuki expresses what you've always known but never expected to hear.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

being with katsuki is a lesson in unspoken understanding. you knew who he is long before you started dating him—loud, brash, and not the type to share his feelings openly.

but it didn’t take long to realize there’s so much more to him than that. his love is quiet, reserved, and shown in the details:

how he pulls you out of the way of a passing car, or how he remembers the smallest things, like your favorite kind of tea or that you prefer your coffee without sugar.

and that is enough for you. mostly.

you didn’t expect him to be the kind of boyfriend who says "I love you" with ease. katsuki isn’t like that. it isn’t something you hold against him either.

but every now and then, a small part of you wonders what it would be like to hear him say it—to hear those three words slip past his lips in the same way they had from yours.

you say it first, a quiet “I love you” in the middle of a peaceful night when the world outside feels still.

his response comes in the shape of hugging you tighter, securing you in his arms. however, he doesn’t say it back, and you don’t expect him to. you don’t need him to.

still, there are times when you find yourself holding your breath, wondering if one day he’ll actually verbalize it.

it isn’t that you doubt his feelings. katsuki isn’t one to waste time on things or people he doesn’t care about.

you know how much he cares by the way he silently takes care of you, always putting you first in his own way, even when his words are rough around the edges.

it’s just that sometimes, words have a way of making things feel more real.

tonight is one of those easy evenings you cherish—one where you don’t have to think too much about anything. the two of you are in your kitchen, making dinner together, though “together” is generous.

you’re doing most of the work while katsuki stands next to you, arms crossed, casting a critical eye over everything you do.

“you’re putting too much salt,” he says, the frown on his face making you smile.

“pretty sure this is the exact amount the recipe says to use,” you reply, amused at how serious he always gets when it comes to food.

“tch, that recipe’s wrong. I could’ve made this better with my eyes closed.”

“then why don’t you?” you tease, turning your head to glance at him. his gaze is sharp as usual, but the small curve in the corner of his lips betrays him.

“maybe I’ll cook next time,” he grumbles, looking away like the very idea of giving in bothers him.

you laugh softly, enjoying the banter. this is something you love about him—how even in these simple moments, his presence fills the space with a sense of ease.

there’s no pressure to be anything other than yourselves, even when his blunt honesty clashes with your more relaxed approach.

as you stir the pot, you can’t help but let your thoughts wander back to the three words. you know katsuki isn’t the type to say things until he’s ready, and you respect that.

but part of you is curious—would it ever come naturally to him, or would it always be something unspoken between the two of you?

still, as you stand there, the warmth of his steady presence beside you, you realize that maybe you’re okay with it remaining unspoken. katsuki shows his love in ways that don’t need words to validate them.

and then, without warning, you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. you freeze for a moment, caught off-guard.

“katsuki?” you ask, your voice soft, as you lean into him instinctively.

he doesn’t answer right away, just holds you there. his touch isn’t hesitant, but it is different from the usual casual touches you’ve grown used to.

“you’re annoying sometimes,” he mutters, voice low in your ear.

you chuckle, relaxing further into his hold. “I know.”

there’s silence for a beat, and then: “but I love you anyway, idiot.”

you blink, unsure if you’ve heard him correctly. you turn your head slightly, trying to see his face, but he buries it against your neck, hiding his expression. “did you just—?”

“don’t make a big deal out of it,” he mumbles, voice suddenly gruff, though you can hear the embarrassment beneath the words.

a smile breaks across your face, warmth spreading through your chest. you didn’t expect it, but that makes it all the more special. he isn’t saying it because the moment demands it.

he isn’t saying it because you’re waiting. he says it because he wants to, because he feels it.

“I’m not,” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably as your happiness bubbles up in your voice. “but…I love you too.”

you feel his grip tighten around you and a kiss pressed to your shoulder.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[iceonneo]

eater 101 ; l.hc

haechan x fem! reader summary: so called enemy haechan eats u out (like a pro😓 warnings : [ smut ] pussy eating (like that’s it😭), pet names. !! mdni ¡¡

im looking for a eater baby ima tell da truthh

❦₊࿐

“oh lord.”

lee haechan was truly a shameless motherfucker. you didn’t even realize how and why you let your so called enemy get into your pants. once upon a time you held true spite for him, dreadfully catching his gaze in the hallway as he drove you round crazy the entire day.

some girls would label you lucky and you’d simply scoff at the statement but you were starting to believe them you fear, for this man ate pussy like a starved bear godamn.

it all started when that old hag mrs. linda assigned him as your lab partner for the respective year.

for sure he didn’t stop with his flirtatious tactics as you struggled to get your experiments done in the lab. would stare at your chest like a literal pervert everytime you bent to our the chemical and you didn’t even fucking mind it.

then came his texts, and more texts and more texts and more… and your foolish ass had to reply him.

then came the going over to his place to get your chemistry notes done and let’s just say he grabbed your face as soon as you entered and showed you bed chemistry instead.

and like a fool captivated by his dick you reluctantly kept coming back to him.

all because of fucking linda.

which leads you where you are today, in the locker room. pulled by him into this cramped room before class started saying it would take a few five minutes but it’s been fifteen now and you’ve been moaning against the shelf with your skirt flushed over and panties down to your knees.

both his arms caged from behind around your thighs to keep you in place as he dug his face deeper between your legs.

his mouth was a machine. the way his muscular tongue dragged over your folds and dug into your hole you thought you were going to make the boy go bald the way you were pulling his hair.

“are you going to cum in my mouth baby?” haechan pulled out, looking at you with his bambi eyes that drove you feral you thought you were about to bust.

“yeah” you sighed as he smiled, “come over my tongue.” and before you knew it your eyes were rolling back again. back arched as the sensation grew unbearable. the erotic noises erupting from the space between his mouth and your core lighting a fire within you.

his mouth kissing everywhere around your wet folds and the thread begin to snap. the shame stripped off your body once you felt your bud being sucked by his plump lips as you moaned out loud.

the view of his tongue repeatedly meeting your clit and coated with slick all over made the sensation only grow stronger.

“fuck, you’re so good.”

the way his warm mouth latched over your open pussy as his tongue glided over your cunt round and round over and over again. the way he moaned against your clit loudly sending vibrations right up your system made you moan twice as more.

he ate pussy so well it was admirable.

your own moans and squeals blurring out to your ears as your growing orgasm clouded your mind. your grip over his head tightened and you pulled him towards yourself as his nose and tongue made your pleasure skyrocket.

and when he pulled you closer by your knees and sucked harder you gasped and knew it was end as you came all over his mouth undone, urging him to let go once you felt him sucking again.

with a sigh, he looked up at you from his lashes. face flushed, wet and gaze all drowsy.

“need more of your sweet pussy baby, think you can take this cock too?”

oh linda, I fucking love you.

an original iceonneo work.