#so i had to go in and press it down with my fingers first

[pathologicalreid]

christmas (baby please come home) | s.r.

in which Spencer isn't home to put his kids to bed on Christmas Eve, but they wake up to a surprise on Christmas morning

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: spencer's first post prison christmas, frankensteined the plot of "surface tension", the same family as "here with me", crying, christmas word count: 3.19k a/n: merry christmas!! this is kinda like my gift to you, mostly since it's been sitting in my brain for forever!!!!!!! i love u all! also happy first day of hanukkah if you celebrate <33

“But Daddy’s not home,” your daughter whimpered as she shuffled under her covers, she looked up at you with wide, curious eyes.

You carefully smoothed out the top of her floral comforter, “I know, baby,” you whispered, reaching up to pinch her cheek affectionately. You’d let them stay up late to watch the Santa tracker, but eventually, Finn fell asleep on you, and Livvy’s yawns were enough to convince you that it was bedtime. “You still have to go to sleep. Santa will come whether Daddy’s home or not, and we’ll just do the gifts from Mommy and Daddy when he gets back.”

At three years old, Olivia was beginning to understand Spencer being gone the same way Eleanor did; she knew his absence was entirely out of her control, and that didn’t sit well with your middle child. You knew you had gotten incredibly lucky when Spencer had been home for Finn’s birthday and Livvy’s had fallen during his sabbatical, but you also knew that you were due for a missed holiday, you just wished it could’ve been Thanksgiving or New Year’s.

You kissed her forehead before leaving, making sure to leave the door open a crack so the monsters wouldn’t get her before you went to Nell’s room. “Hey, honey,” you whispered, closing your eldest’s door behind you before going to sit on the edge of her bed. She had her own Christmas tree set up in the corner of the room, the artificial purple tree providing the glow that her nightlight normally would. “Are you ready for bed?”

Nell was lying on top of her covers, staring at her still ceiling fan as she ignored your question. While Livvy was just starting to understand what it meant when Spencer was gone, Nell understood it best, and she had for years now. She’d understood when Spencer was in prison, and she understood that he was missing Christmas now.

Slowly, you laid down next to your daughter, propping your head up on the bed and smoothing her hair back. “It’s still Christmas,” you tried to reassure her, but part of you knew that it was a thankless effort, there was nothing you could tell her that would fix her father’s absence. “We can call Dad in the morning while we open presents,” you offered, hoping she’d appreciate you coming halfway. “If he’s not busy, maybe we can video chat, and you can show him everything Santa brought you.”

“It’s not the same,” she told you, furrowing her brows and turning away from you on the bed.

Sighing, you pressed a kiss to the back of her head, “I know, Nellie. I know it’s not fair that he doesn’t get to be here for Christmas, but Daddy will come back.” There was a sense of urgency in your voice; you were afraid that if your five-year-old lost the joy in Christmas, you’d somehow failed her as a mother. “He’ll be home for your birthday, I promise,” you whispered.

“You can’t promise,” she reminded you, knowing that you and Spencer were generally very specific about your promises, leaning toward the ‘I promise I’ll try’ variety.

You hummed in response, “I’d pinky promise you that. Dad will be home for your birthday.” You held up your pinky finger, waiting for her to roll over and reciprocate.

Eleanor rolled over, holding up her pinky finger while brown eyes watched you apprehensively, “Okay,” she breathed, hooking your fingers together and kissing them.

As soon as Spencer told you about the bureau’s contingency to him returning to the BAU, you’d done the math. Eleanor’s sixth birthday would fall near the beginning of his next sabbatical, so you didn’t hesitate to make this promise. “It’s time for bed, my girl,” you whispered, smiling at her softly as she pulled the sleeves of her Christmas pajamas over her hands. “Santa can’t come if you’re not asleep,” you reminded her, sitting up on the bed and getting up, tucking her purple comforter under her chin before you made your final stop of the night.

You’d brought Finn to his room before getting the girls settled, but now that you knew they were alright, you came back to his room. The white noise machine was going, and he was fast asleep in his crib. His pacifier, which you were trying to wean him off of, had fallen from his mouth and onto the sheets, so you set it to the side. To you, the second Christmas was always more exciting than the first, now that he was fourteen months old, he had the dexterity to help open presents.

Ruffling his hair, you kissed him goodnight, just like you’d done with the girls, and you left his room, closing the door so that no one would disturb the light-sleeping baby.

There was a late night ahead of you, but first, you settled yourself onto the couch in the living room and pulled out your phone. Upon opening your messages with Spencer, you couldn’t help but be disappointed to find that there was nothing unread. You thought about sending him a text telling him that you all miss him but eventually decided against it. You didn’t want to make him feel guilty. At least, no more guilty than he likely already did.

You turned on the TV, quietly playing a Christmas movie as you began the festivities. All of the gifts had been expertly hidden in the master bedroom, split between being shoved under your bed and in your closet, but a new playhouse for the girls had been dropped off earlier. It was too big for your room, so your parents had stored it in their basement in the interim.

That would be a struggle to bring in from the garage, so you decided to start small, pulling all of the kids’ stockings from their hooks and laying them out on the floor before going upstairs to get the stuffers.

With the movie playing, you filled the stockings with treats and little toys. A few times you imagined your phone buzzing, but each time there was nothing on the screen. The loneliness started to set in as you rehung the stockings, making sure the kids’ names faced forward above the fireplace.

This wasn’t your first Christmas alone, Spencer had been in Idaho for Olivia’s first Christmas, but neither of the girls remembered it.

They’d remember this one, you thought to yourself, walking back up the stairs to grab a load of boxes. Thankfully, they were already wrapped, but you did have to avoid getting ribbon in your mouth as you carried the armful of gifts down the stairs.

Masterfully, you adjusted them beneath the tree, trying to visualize where they’d all end up in the end as you heard something distantly, but you brushed it off as someone leaving your neighbor’s holiday party. You stood up, wiping your hands on your pajamas as you evaluated your handiwork, shrugging before you turned around for the next load, “Oh,” you breathed, watching the handle on the door from the garage turn.

The door opened slowly, revealing your husband on the other side, his black peacoat draped over his arm and purple scarf looped around his neck. He hooked his car keys on the key hook before he noticed you, brown eyes finding your pajama-clad figure. His lopsided smile was all-knowing as always, he knew he had surprised you. In fact, it had been his goal.

You remained exactly where you were, watching him from the den as he put his shoes away and hung up his outerwear. It was almost as if you’d convinced yourself he was a mirage, and any sudden movements would cause his visage to dissipate. “Hey,” Spencer said, cocking his head at you as if he were confused why you hadn’t come any closer to him. He peeked around you to look at the tree, “Did the kids get to bed okay?”

Instead of answering him, your body naturally responded to what seemed like the miraculous appearance of your husband by producing tears. At first, they just welled along your lash line, but as they started to fall, you buried your face in your hands.

Spencer was there, not only in the house but also taking the initiative to approach you, he wrapped his arms around your torso, taking your tearful form under his care, “Is everything alright?” He asked, slowly dragging his hand up and down your spine, humming as you reciprocated his embrace and pressed your face into his shirt, drying your eyes and taking in the moment.

“Everything is wonderful,” you responded, your voice muffled by his shirt. He smelled like stale dark roast and the jet, but you were too relieved by his arrival to truly mind.

Tightening his grip briefly, he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “Right, well. You’re crying, so I had to make sure,” he murmured, swaying gently to the music coming from the film.

You loosed a breath of relief, “I can’t believe you’re here. The kids were miserable at bedtime, Nell wouldn’t even talk to me until I told her you’ll be home for her birthday,” you informed him, keeping your arms wrapped firmly around him while you tipped your head back to see him.

Spencer nodded in understanding, reaching up a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “We made the arrest at eight and wrapped up around nine. Somehow, Emily convinced the pilot to leave in the middle of the night, and we were on the jet by ten. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve spent holidays in worse places, but I’d rather be here with you than in Milwaukee.”

“I will kiss Emily Prentiss on the mouth,” you told him candidly.

He raised his brows curiously, “Mhm, and what about me?”

Grinning, you pushed up on your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his, an amalgamation of a welcome home and a Merry Christmas kiss, but you pulled away before you could get carried away. “Merry Christmas, Spencer Reid, we have work to do,” you told him, taking on a mock seriousness as you nodded your head toward the Christmas tree, which only had a fraction of your kids’ gifts beneath it.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” Spencer reciprocated, pressing one more kiss to your lips, “Let’s get started.”

Spinning out of his grip, you found you had much more pep in your step with his arrival, beaming as the two of you went through the house as quietly as possible, gathering the gifts for the kids without rousing any suspicion. Even grabbing the playhouse from the garage didn’t seem like as much of a task with him around.

You adjusted the stockings as it neared two in the morning, Spencer returned from upstairs with the last few gifts, having changed his clothes into pajamas that neatly matched yours—a family set that was a gift from your Penelope. “They look great,” Spencer assured you, pushing his glasses up on his nose as he stood back, admiring your handiwork.

Walking backward until your back was against your chest, you tilted your head to the side, appraising the mountain of gifts beneath the tree, “Do you think we went overboard this year?” Between the gifts from Santa and the gifts from the two of you, the heap was rather intimidating.

“No,” Spencer answered, “bigger kids, bigger gifts.” He put his arms around your waist, resting his chin on top of your head, “besides, they’re good kids.”

You hummed in response, leaning into him ever so slightly. Part of you felt like Spencer was still experiencing guilt surrounding the three months he spent away from you and the kids while he was in prison. No amount of time at home or therapy would ever absolve him of that guilt, but it never hurt to try, “Hey,” you whispered up to him, “I got you something.”

He frowned down at you, “I thought we said no gifts this year?”

Scoffing, you walked over to the home office, “We say that every year and neither of us ever stick to it, so go get whatever it is you got for me.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, but even so, he made his way upstairs to where you knew a gift was hiding in his bedside table. Upon his return, he faltered at the large box you’d placed on the coffee table and held up the small box in his hands; you beamed at him as he eyed the behemoth of a present.

He handed you the smaller box, instinctively, you admired the wrapping before starting to open it, recognizing the jewelry box before you had even discarded your wrapping paper. “Oh, Spence,” you said, looking at the necklace in the box, a dainty chain with five small gemstones on it. His birthstone and yours, followed by Nell’s amethyst, Livvy’s sapphire, and Finn’s tourmaline all strung next to each other, “it’s perfect,” you told him, lightly touching the gems with your fingertips. You’d mentioned wishing you had an everyday necklace a few weeks ago while getting ready, and he must’ve been listening more attentively than you’d thought.

Finally, you had him open his gift, and he was entirely speechless as he opened the cardboard flaps. His mouth gaped as he lifted one of the books in his hand, the title and edition identical to one that had been previously ruined in your house. “Fuck,” he cursed, looking from you to the books and back again.

You shrugged, “It’s not all of them, but a pretty good amount of them. Some of those editions are proving difficult to recover, but I’ve—” You’re cut off, startled by Spencer pressing his lips to yours. “I’m still looking for some,” you said breathlessly once he pulled away.

Spencer seemed unsure of what to do with himself; you’d managed to find replacements for three-fourths of the books that had previously been burned by an accidental fire set earlier this year. The only time your marriage had ever been on the rocks was when Diana lived with you, but even then, you’d been planning this surprise. “You are…” Spencer started, uncharacteristically at a loss for words, “This is incredible,” he told you, shaking his head in disbelief, setting the book down in the box and nearly tackling you in a hug.

Laughing, you buried your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound, “I love you,” you murmured to him, his body now next to yours on the couch.

“I love you too,” he said, looking at you with glassy eyes. “Wow,” he said, sniffling, “I need to get you something else. A necklace isn’t enough,” he told you, likely already thinking of options for addendums.

You shook your head, “Trust me when I tell you that your being here is worth all of the rare books in the world to me,” you reassured him, running your fingers through his hair. Humming, you adjusted your head on the pillow, “Are you gonna fall asleep like this?”

He nodded, “If you keep playing with my hair like that. How long do you think we have until they wake up?” He asked, keeping his eyes closed while you peeked over him to check the time.

Last year, Finn had woken up the whole house on Christmas Day at four in the morning, and seeing as it was nearing three, you wondered if it was worth sleeping at all. You continued combing through Spencer’s hair, “Do you want to go upstairs?”

“This is a really great couch,” he mumbled, already falling asleep on the couch, leading you to grab the blanket that was thrown over the back and haphazardly drape it over the two of you.

Unfortunately, it felt like you’d gotten no sleep at all when you heard the first stirring upstairs, “Mommy,” Olivia called out, which would likely wake up Finn and Nell.

You got up from the couch, waking up Spencer in the process. Your poor husband, who was probably already running on little sleep, got up and folded the blanket you had been using, returning it to its home while you went upstairs to get the kids.

Livvy’s eyes went wide when she saw you come from downstairs, “Did Santa come?” She asked you, nearly bouncing with excitement.

As you expected, the door to Eleanor’s room swung open, revealing your sleep-deprived five-year-old in her rumpled pajamas, “Yes, Santa brought gifts for everyone,” you answered, ruffling her hair before going into Finn’s room, hoping to wake him gently before the voices did a less delicate job. “Hi buddy,” you whispered, looking back to see the girls gathered at the door, completely unaware that their dad was waiting for them downstairs. “Merry Christmas,” you said softly, his scrunched face not processing what you were saying, but happy to see you, nonetheless.

You picked him up from the crib and herded the girls to the stairs, letting them lead the way down while you carried the baby. Right behind them, you watched the realization dawn on their faces as soon as they caught sight of Spencer, “Daddy!” Nell shouted, leading her little sister as they ran to him.

Laughing lightly, you let a squirming Finn down, running to Spencer in the same way the girls just had. From a distance, you watched as all three of your kids entirely bypassed the gifts under the tree and on the mantle and went straight to what was more important—their father was home for Christmas.

Spencer crouched down to get Finn, and at the same time, Livvy jumped in excitement, leaving Spencer falling backward and sitting on the ground while the kids formed a less-than-graceful dog pile on the floor. You took that as your cue to join in on the festivities, kneeling on the floor next to the familial pile, uncontrollable giggles emanated from everyone involved.

You wrangled the two littles in your arms, giving each of them dozens of kisses and receiving more laughter in return as Eleanor settled down. Your eldest took her moment of alone time and laid her head on Spencer’s chest, the grin on her face overtook the rest of her face, “Best Christmas ever,” she whispered before rolling off of him, Spencer instinctively lifting his hand so she doesn’t hit her head on the leg of the coffee table.

Nellie sat up giving you a toothy grin, sticking her tongue through where she was missing a front tooth. Everyone took notice of Olivia pointing at the tree, her mouth shaped like an “o” in awe, “Can we open that one?” She asked, pointing to the largest present in the stack—which, of course, had her name on it.

“Stockings first,” Spencer said, leading to a pout from your middle child, but it was quickly wiped away when he kissed the crown of her head. Your husband got up first, taking Finn from where he was tucked into your side, and set him on his hip, “Okay, who wants their stocking?”

Everyone’s hand went up—including yours.

[elliee3e]

‘primal needs’

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ logan howlett x f! reader

thinking about logan in heat/with ruts x reader who’s ovulating … ohhh my god !!

content warnings ;

piv, size difference, heat/ruts, dubious consent but it’s very slight okay mentions of breeding kink but not really ?? it’s just cumming inside but it’s implied guys

author’s note ;

guys, i’m going through a slight writer’s block urgh . but it’s christmas & so i came up with this little idea !! merry christmas to everyone & hopefully i can also get something out before or shortly after new years <33 MWAH!

the air between you two is thick and heavy as logan’s cock stretches you to the hilt like nothing else.

the sloppy mess and smell of pure, primal driven need also clings to the air — as well as the lewd, squelching sounds of him pounding into you: pulling delicious moans from both your bodies.

even after going like this for more times than you can count, both you and logan are anything but tired. and the reason for that?

logan’s in heat. all you could feel all week was him pressing up against you, whether from behind or in front, anywhere, anytime — just trying to get some friction. and as much as it pained you to shove him away each and every time, you didn’t want to risk anything in public.

however when he gets you to himself in his room, you two are all over eachother like rabid animals. he’s biting at your neck, big hands pulling at your clothes and nearly tearing them apart; not that you cared — all you wanted was to get dicked down, as your sex drive had spiked all week too.

and logan could tell. his already heightened senses only peaked when he was in heat: causing him to sniff you out from far away even, the sweet scent of your pussy dripping for him was enough to drive him to find you no matter where you were. and when he did, best believe he’ll drag you somewhere just to toy with your pussy.

“ah, look at her. always a sloppy mess for me, ain’ she?” he’d tease, lips hovering right over your neck as his hand had started to make it’s descent to slip into your panties, fingers already dragging lazy circles over your clit.

it was always a messy combination.

even in the mornings, when logan would wake up first, he’d notice you still asleep and slot his knee between your thighs and up your little short nightdress — nudging you awake by rubbing his knee against your clit through your already damp panties. by the time you’d wake up, you’d feel his warm cock already pressing against your folds, wake up to the sight of him on top of you, his arms pressed on either side of your pillow. “this okay, doll? m’ sorry, i couldn’t wait..” he’d grunt, voice still rough and tired, but you nodded in silent agreement — needing this just as much as him and feeling as he then sunk his cock into your wet, eager walls no problem — a groan leaving both him and you.

when you would wake up first, it was a little different, as you’d find yourself spreading your thighs to get onto his with a little whine. you rocked your hips against his thigh needily, awaking the man easily. he’d wake up to feel your heat rubbing up against his thigh.

“mm.. well look at my pretty princess, grindin’ like a lil puppy all over me—..” his tired voice would finally speak up as he registered the situation in his mind, his cock already starting to strain against his boxers. it made you whine for more, as his big hand shamelessly pulled your hand onto him to palm his cock — the beginning of a morning you two knew would last all afternoon.

and when i mean anytime, anywhere, i mean it. the man’s practically a dog, a dog in heat if you may. he’s absolutely rabid when in heat and will look for any excuse to get you someplace private just to get some release.

sometimes, you feel like you can barely keep up, with the way he’s manhandling you and shifting your position so he can get the best friction on his cock — for example, you could be on your back and this man, with his godforsaken huge hands, will shamelessly turn you onto your stomach and hold your head down against the pillow, slipping into your sweet pussy from behind to slam his cock against that spot he knows has you seeing stars, from the way your words turn into jumbled whines and moans.

and from that, he could also easily turn you back over into a mating press. his favorite. he’d most likely be like that for a while, until he empties his cum into you and has you doing the same all over his cock, before sitting back and starting to pull you onto his lap to ride him for another orgasm, a repeat of all week all over again.

[madamechrissy]

♔ Silent Serenades ♔

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Duke Satoru Gojo x Duchess Reader

♔ Content/Warnings: Explicit sexual content, dirty talk, breeding kink, spitting, Satoru calls reader 'slut during sex, some nipple biting, cum play, mostly cute and fluffy (believe it or NOT) Oral (f recieving) mentions of jealousy and past angst

♔ Word count: this chap: 11.2k

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you at all, leaving you a crying mess on your wedding night, alone. Now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage that destroys you from within. Royal AU, Cruel Duke Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Gojo is awful in this. You'll hate Satoru, warning you now. HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you

A/N- I go into Gojo's pov but don't divide them! I hope the style if that is okay. <3 Comments and Reblogs vert=y appreciated if you enjoy

Part Thirteen ♔ Masterlist ♔ Playlist

Part Fourteen - The King's Ball

“Fuck this.” Satoru grumbles, you’re arm in arm with him as you both are descending the grand steps down into the opulent ballroom. You giggle a bit behind your white silk glove, he smirks at you.

“Fuck this indeed.” You agree softly, he leans down then, lips just a breath from yours.

“I love that dirty mouth of yours.”

“Mmm, do you now?” Your eyes meet.

“Should I show you how much?” He whispers, and for a moment it’s as if everything in the grand room fades but him.

It’s just you and your Duke, cussing about the party ahead of you, his gaze and words making you flush under the glimmering chandeliers above, highlighting the silver glint of your dress, and the bright white suit Satoru wears tonight. He takes one of your gloved hands, pressing a kiss to the back of it, you exhale when his lips are hovering just above yours.

“You’d kiss me on the lips, in front of all these people?” You tease, he chuckles then, cupping your face.

“I’d do a lot more than that, bury my face under your skirts. Ah, look at you, thoughts driving you to blush?” You take a breath and look around, seeing hundreds of eyes on both of you.

“They’re talking about us, Toru.” He peeks and waves a hand dismissively, setting to walk with you again.

“Saying how beautiful you are.”

“How handsome you are.”

“We’ve gotten sappy, haven’t we?” You grin.

“Positively smushy.” Now Satoru grins.

“Smushy!? Is that a word?”

“It is indeed! Oh Satoru I just want to keep this happiness, not…” You trail off as you both start to greet people now, and you see her, Adelia.

Many people look back and forth from you to her, and now you know a lot more, more than you ever wished to. Satoru feels you tense next to him, a calming hand on the small of your back, fingers brushing up and down. He’s disgusted seeing her, how one person can look like you but be fucking horrible is still unknown to him, but now you have figured it out.

Adelia is your cousin, thank god she’s not a sister, Satoru had a panic attack when you had done some digging. She is your mother’s little sister’s child, one that they had sent off to Scotland, and no one heard of again essentially. Adelia making her own way here is through her own feats, it seemed she did not even come to England until she was an adult.

So you are… related.

You had a feeling of course, it was too uncanny not to, but hearing it from your staff, a staff that basically raised you, cinched it all in. Of course they had been sworn to secrecy, but they had no problem telling you once you explained your situation. It is better than what you thought, what if she was a sister, you felt sick just thinking of that, this was quite tangled enough.

“I still can’t believe it all.” Satoru says, shaking his head. “Oh if I just met you first, you know it would have saved many, many problems.”

“I was rather young then, hmm? How long ago was it?”

“It was a good six years ago when I met her. I suppose you are a little younger than me, am I an old lecher to you!?” He teases, acting affronted.

“Shut it, you're twenty seven, you’re not much older. You still look like a college boy in leading strings.”

“Take that back, insolent little brat.”

“Make me.” You stick your tongue out at him, making his blue eyes glitter, when he looks over your shoulder now and pauses, scowling, his entire mood shifts then as you feel a gaze burning your back. “On no, what is it?”

You look behind you then, to see the King headed straight towards you, him and Adelia challenging the fresh new bliss Satoru and you have is brutal to handle. Every time you think that Satoru and you are so happy finally, there is Nanami in the street seeing you both, there’s one of Satoru’s exes, but now it’s a King, who oddly has his sights on you.

And your…. cousin… ugh.

“Look at you.” King Sukuna’s husky voice says your name softly over the music floating around you all, a cacophony of whispers, giggles, music and heels on the floor. And not only that, but he says your first name, making Satoru positively seethe behind you.

“Your Majesty.” You greet cooly.

“Aren’t you the prettiest thing here.” He murmurs, eyes raking and taking far too many liberties. He then takes your gloved hand and kisses it.

“Certainly not, your Majesty. But thank you.” You politely curtsey, people onlook with little smiles, at the diamond of the season and the King with his attentions on her, you hear their whispers and feel their gazes.

Even married women could not necessarily turn a King down, it was notoriously known, many Kings could have whomever they wanted, and the men had to handle it, even a powerful man such as Duke Gojo. However, you still cannot fathom why he wants to go so far, he is certainly attractive, and a King.

What is he playing at?

“May I have the honor of a dance, Duchess?” He murmurs, eyes glinting a crimson as he smirks on his tanned face, wearing an opulent velvet brocade tonight, he certainly was swooned over.

You look at Satoru, there’s nothing you both can do outwardly, he gives you a little nod, hands clenched into fists at his sides, as he watches the King of England take his wife onto the dance floor. He snatches up two glasses of champagne from a butler walking, downing them in two gulps, looking at his surprised face, his mouth dropped open to Satoru’s amusement.

“Fuck something stronger, please. I know the King has to have some good whiskey” Satoru then hands him several notes, and the butler nods eagerly.

“Right away, your Grace!” He runs off, and soon Satoru is given a glass of whiskey, he sighs, sipping it and watching you over the crystal glass.

“Keep em coming.” The butler bobs his head eagerly.

Satoru is watching you twirl in King Sukuna’s arms, Sukuna’s big hand taking over your little back, pressing you far too close, his other hand encapsulating yours, he’s grinning lewdly down at you, you’re maintaining a smile for appearances. Satoru can tell, it’s not a true smile, something he sees so much more these days, something that captures his heart and soul.

Seeing you smile so sleepy at him in the morning, when you’re in his arms. It’s the sweetest thing in the world, your little giggles when he kisses on your neck, your sassy grin when you find some new ticklish spot of his, and torture him then with your discovery. You are so very beautiful when you truly smile, how it brightens the entire room.

This is that ‘perfect Duchess smile’ of yours.

Satoru falls deeper every fucking day for you, so deep it aches, gnawing at his stomach at the thought of ever losing you, he feels he does not even deserve you, and that at any point you’ll come to your senses. He has just started to get comfortable with the thought that you chose him, when the King and Adelia have come to fuck with both of you.

“Speak of the witch.” He grumbles, when she steps up to him, hand on his shoulder, he shrugs it off.

“Care for a dance, your Grace?” She rolls the words off her tongue, shifting her hips from side to side and batting her lashes.

Satoru scoffs. “Oh, fuck no.”

She glares up at him, it’s nothing like your glare, that feisty little way you set your chin, purse your lips, how your pretty eyes narrow and you decimate him the way only you can. No, this is just her… being Adelia, being the woman who destroyed him, made him so afraid to be vulnerable with you, so sure you’d rip his heart out, especially once he started feeling so much.

He knew it that night of the masquerade, seeing you with your baker… or as his still sore ribs remind him… boxer boyfriend you had. Seeing him touch you, it had awakened something insane in him that night, when he’d been with you in the hallway, when he’d pressed against you, held you and fucking cried, and you had cried right with him, hadn’t you?

You both knew then, that there was something there with you both, something he was destroying completely before it could even begin, and pushing you to help him destroy it. When he’d begged to taste you again, fuck he was pathetic for you, but you’d let him. Though when he’d truly drunk you up in that carriage, after that night at your parents?

You ended him.

He’s so enamored with you dancing, with aching to punch a damn King in the face, he can blissfully ignore this pest of a woman next to him. Satoru sees him dip you over his arm, watches the hair you have coiled in those pretty little ringlets fall over his arm, he swoops you low and then picks you back up in his arms, spinning you slowly to the awws of the room.

Satoru wants to rip his fucking hands off.

“You’re still here?” Satoru finally acknowledges the annoying pest next to him, she pouts up at him, batting long lashes.

“You do know he can have her if he wants?”

“What do you care? And she doesn’t want to.”

“You’ve always been foolish, Satoru. But you know, sometimes I think to myself, I should have only been with you.” Satoru glares down at her now, raising a thing white brow, looking at the spitting image of you trying to fuck with him.

“Shouldn’t have fucked my dad, or all the other men?” She has enough grace to look down for a moment, before stepping closer.

“I’ll explain more if we were to have a moment alone, about your father, about everything.”

“I have no desire to be near you. Go find some dick to hop on, you were quite good at that I suppose. She is much better though.”

“You’re petty and lying, as if her prissy ass is some wild thing in the bedroom, can she even handle how freaky you are?”

Satoru snorts. “I’m exceedingly pleased with her. You’re mad you did not get any of that wealth from your mother, a noble, aren’t you?” She gasps, and he chuckles. “Yes we know, you’re her cousin.”

“How on-”

“Will you go?” Satoru watches as the dance ends, and the King is leading you away from the crowd, his eyes narrow as you look back over your shoulders at them both.

“Oh look, a private moment with the King. And… well Satoru, he is quite skilled in the bed, not as eager as you though, something to be said for that.” Satoru grips her wrist now, as she has a hand on his arm, she gasps just a bit.

“I assure you I’m no virgin any longer, as you enjoyed bragging to my wife, as if she cares.”

“Odd one cousin took your virginity, and you took hers.” Satoru tenses then, and Adelia laughs, a nasty little laugh. “Oh you didn’t! Oh poor Satoru, you’re just not her first pick are you?”

“You have no idea of what you fucking speak of.” Satoru lets her wrist go, wondering where you are, he starts walking through the crowds of people, wishing he could shove everyone out of his way and not have to make stupid polite fucking conversation.

He trusts you, he does, but he doesn’t trust that King, you’re still young and sweet, and he does not want him manipulating you, pressuring you. Adelia trails behind him, he contemplates knocking her out, he’s not above it truly, but he holds himself in, walking by the crowned jewel room, seeing Sukuna behind you, his hands on your waist.

Adelia yanks him into the next room, shutting the door, and he finally snaps, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. “What the fuck is your end game here? How do you get a King to go along with it?”

“I love this rough side of you, Satoru.” She cooes, fingers trailing down his chest, he smacks them off, backing away, fury rising in his chest.

“I swear to god if you touch me once more, I am not yours to touch, or to manipulate anymore.” She shakes her head at him, sighing and slipping down her sleeves, then more, he stops her. “I have no interest in you.”

“None at all? Seems like you needed my copy to be satisfied.”

“She is everything you could never be.”

“And what is she doing in that room, Satoru, is he touching her?” She whispers, taking his hand as she slips her bodice so low her breasts are revealed, her nipples taut, he looks away at the ceiling, rage making him sick. “What would you do, if he fucked her, hmm?”

“I’d be fucking sick and furious, but I sure won’t be doing a goddamn thing with you, nor any woman.” He yanks his hand back, turning away. “Cover yourself up, stop embarrassing yourself, dear god.”

“Would you let her have her way with anyone?”

“She will not.”

“So explain the virginity?”

“As if it’s your business. Dear god you make a man want to slap you across a room, I hope you know I’m no gentleman.” He turns back, thankfully she’s covered up, her arms crossed. “Give it, what is your game?”

“Ever think I want you back, Satoru? Ever think that I regret everything?” She blinks back tears, he rolls his eyes, they’re unmoving and unbelievable.

“What do you suddenly wish to be my wife? You can never be, fuck you had your stupid chance then, I would have moved mountains for you.” The pain sets in, the torture she put him through. He’s just finally starting to feel like him again, like Satoru Gojo, after years and goddamn years of being a whore, a cruel man.

“Perhaps a mistress, anything to have you back Satoru.” He shoves her off him again, as she steps closer, putting her hands on his chest, looking at him with eyes that he thought he loved, but he feels nothing but contempt. “I miss you, truly miss you, miss everything you did to me, how I felt.”

She’s brushing her fingers across his cheek, making his skin crawl. “I’ll never have a mistress, and I’ll never leave her.”

“For what, what is so special about her? I expected you to jump on this, do you know how in love with me you were? I’ve never felt it since, and I never will again.” She’s crying now, and he cares not, he just wants to get you before Sukuna has hands on you, he does not know his motivations still.

“You will not feel love because you’re a horrible person. And guess what, Adelia?”

“Wh-what?”

“You made me just like you.” He whispers, hands in his pockets, bending down so that they are just an inch apart. “I was a horrible man, I was fucking women right in front of her, I was shit to her. Fuck I was perhaps worse than you, took all my anger out from being with you on her. She shouldn’t even talk to me, yet she chose me, and you nor anyone will ever make me fuck up again.”

She blinks a bit, taking a breath, looking away then. “Satoru I am sorry for what I did, your father promised me a place in society, it was something even you could not offer truly.”

Satoru laughs without humor. “Expect me to feel sorry for you?”

She gasps. “I was from no wealth like you, like your Duchess, despite being from nobility. I had nothing, I earned my place.”

“By sleeping with men? You did not earn a goddamn thing. She earns her place when she is by my side, helping villages, when she listens to me, when she was honest with me, when she gave me a chance I did not deserve. You have not earned anything you have, including whatever you’re doing with the King. You’re nothing Adelia, worse than nothing actually.”

She smacks him hard across the cheek then, the sound echoes in the room, Satoru does not flinch. “You’ve become so cruel, where is the sweet Satoru that I once knew!?”

Meanwhile

“This is the crown and scepter, go on, touch it.” Sukuna says, hard body behind yours, taking one of your hands and putting it on the shimmering gold crown, you hesitate, hating the nearness, hating that sad look you saw on Satoru’s face, making you worry for him and what Adelia would say.

Would she get to him again? Would he be able to stand firm and ignore the lies she spins? Those are your true worries, not if Satoru would stray, in your heart you know he would not, in your heart you know you are his, and he is yours. But you do know the effect and change she had on him in such a short time, and worry her poison will seep into his brain.

“These look heavy, your Majesty.” You manage to say, some small talk to perhaps ease the tension.

“Sukuna.” His voice is deep, his hands slipping against you.

“Your Majesty.” You turn and look up at him, he’s grinning looking wicked, fingers brushing up and down your bare arm. “You are too bold, even for a King.”

“I simply do not mince words, write stupid fucking poems, I say what I want, and I get everything I want.”

“Not me.”

“No?” You shake your head.

“I mean no disrespect, but my heart is spoken for.” He hums quietly, hands trailing up to your shoulders, the backs of his fingers against your collarbone, watching goosebumps rise at the contact.

“Your body is spoken for as well?” He asks huskily, eyeing your decolletage hungrily, your fists clench, breasts rising and falling as you struggle to maintain your composure.

“My body is indeed spoken for, your Majesty.” He smirks just a bit, another hand pressing against your waist, pulling you gently to him.

“Have a night with me, let me show you things your pretty boy Duke could never, I see it in you, the desire to be filled everywhere, hmm? Desire to have your pretty neck choked, have these bitten and bruised.” He dares to brush his fingers against your breasts. “Oh if you were mine you’d have so many marks you wouldn’t wear this, so sore you wouldn’t walk.”

He leans so close, his lips a breath from yours, you pull your head back, jaw setting. “Your Majesty, I’m afraid I have marks all over, just not where you can see. And the ones you could? I cover up.” You say with a pretty smile, he chuckles, tilting your chin up to look into his eyes.

“I see I read you well then, that fire in your eyes, bet you’re fucking insatiable.” You resist the urge to roll your eyes, his thumb brushes over your lower lip, making you want to recoil.

“I am indeed with my husband. Sukuna, can I be frank with you?”

“Ah, you say my name?”

“Listen, I get it, you’re handsome, you get what you want, you’re a King… hard to resist.”

He grins. “You think I’m handsome, huh?” He has a self satisfied smirk you try to not roll your eyes at.

“Oh god. Yes, of course you are, thus, you can have anyone you wish, including my cousin.”

“Ah, figured that out?”

“I did. And I know this is some game between you both, what has she done to make you try this hard at me? What agreement do you have?” You cross your arms, stepping back, and Sukuna laughs then, throwing his head back, booming laughter reigning in the empty room.

“She simply expressed wanting to try with your Duke again, I figured fuck it, some amusement because god the life of a King is so boring now. Oh to be a king in the war of the roses, or something better than this. Stupid balls and operas, and idle fucking gossip. I found the idea entertaining, so I brought her.”

You blink in confusion, it’s all for fun!? “So why me? Am I just some distraction so she can get Satoru?”

“No, actually. This is where you’re confused, Duchess.” He grabs you by your waist now, pulling you against him. “I am not trying to have you for some game with her, I saw you and just fucking wanted you. Badly, too.”

“Not for a game? I do not believe you.”

He shakes his head, gaze dropping you your lips, your hands go to his chest, pressing for him to back away, but he does not budge. “Do you really not know the effect you have? Did he do that much damage?”

You blink back tears then, looking away, Sukuna takes the opportunity to kiss down the side of your neck, hot messy kisses, you’re pushing at him but the man is made of brick it seems, casually holding you too close. His lips go up to your ear, hot breath tickling it, making you shiver.

“I heard the rumors, I must wonder how or why he wouldn’t want you, even if you look like her. Did he make you think so little of yourself?” You hate it, the memories he is stirring, the feelings he’s making you feel, when he takes your face so possessive in his big hand, while the other presses into your lower back.

“It is none of your business, Sukuna. None. What me and my husband went through is our business.” You hear your voice breaking, feeling such anger at how he can so easily bring those memories back.

Sukuna clicks his tongue, thumb brushing over your fluttering pulse, you can feel your chest tightening under the stress of it, of being against him, when all you want is Satoru, all you need is Satoru. You do not want to think of how cruel he was at the beginning, because those memories take you to a dark, dark place, one you never wish to visit again.

“I could make you feel so good, like you deserve. It’s not just your gorgeous little body or pretty face…” His hands trail lewdly down your curves, thumb brushing over your nipple, your hands clenched into fists, breath coming quicker. “It’s your fire, burning so hot, fuck I’d love to feel it.”

“Watch that you do not get burned by it.” You whisper in response, he smirks, so cocky and arrogant, you itch to smack him.

“I’d get burned if it meant a moment with you, and no I do not do this, and I do not do it as a game. Do you not wish to feel like a Queen?” He murmurs, you shake your head. “Oh no? Well, do you think he’ll resist her charms, stay so loyal?”

“If he does not I… I cannot think of that.” He’s playing you, making you think of things you want to shove down, you refuse to do so, shaking your head more firmly now. “I will not think of it.”

“Ah, so let me show you what you’re missing, then Duchess, so you know what you turn down.” He slams his lips against yours, you shove at him again, but he drags you against him, mouth hot and open, tongue trying to get past your sealed lips, pressing deeper until he’s reached his goal, moaning.

Sukuna’s kiss is brutal, passionate and fervent, his hands gripping your ass, dragging you against him. You take a breath, turning your head, for him to turn it back, eyes glinting in the dark, brows raised, his lips parted. You try to step back, but he’s kissing you again, hands sliding up your skirts, up your thighs, and you bite his lower lip then, shoving him.

He chuckles, looking at how hard you bit, lip bleeding just a drop, which he licks. “You are fiery, fuck do you not know what I’d do with you?” He cups your face again, you glare up at him, fucking furious.

“You won’t ever have me. Guess what, even a King does not get whatever he wants, hmm?” You say now, shoving at the brick wall of a man again, he shakes his head with a smirk.

“I can tell you’re excited, I can feel it, see it written all over you.”

“I am furious, is what I am. You will not touch me again.”

“Oh?” He brushes your hair back, and you do it then, you haul off and smack the king of fucking england right in his arrogant face.

Shit.

Meanwhile.

“You changed me with your games.” Satoru retorts to Adelia, just moments before. “Now go fuck off to France, or anywhere, as long as I don’t have to see you again.” Satoru hears a smack echo in the next room, smirking and wondering if his wife just hit the King of England. “That’s my girl.”

“Your girl!?”

Satoru strides past her, as you stride out on the King that you just slapped, and both of you see each other then, in the hall. His cheek reddened from Adelia, your hand stinging from smacking Sukuna, and you damn near burst into tears as you both look at each other. He’s breathing heavily, you’re breathing in short little pants, striding to each other then.

Satoru picks you up in his arms, hugging you so tightly, putting you down and cupping your face, studying you carefully, you feel so good in his arms. “Are you all right, baby?”

You nod quickly. “I may have smacked the King.”

He grins, melting you, but you see it too, the glimmer in his baby blues. “I heard, fuck that turned me on.”

You giggle, insanely, as King Sukuna and bitch A0delia watch you both. “You’re fucking insane, you know that?”

“You fucking love how insane I am, hmm?” You nod, and he’s looking at Sukuna now behind you, before seeing your lips, slightly swollen and reddened, then you see Adelia, her bodice slightly askew, sleeve completely down.

“Did she try to…”

“Did he kiss you!?”

You both nod at your simultaneous questions, then Satoru glares at King Sukuna, and you glare at Adelia, then you both look back at each other in a silent agreement, before you step over to Adelia, who surprisingly has dried tears on her cheeks as she looks at you. You cross your arms, shaking your head as you near her, and as Satoru nears the King.

“Leave him out of your games, he doesn't want you anymore.” Your words just anger her, she steps up to you, shoving at you, you laugh then, back-handing her right in the face as if on instinct.

“You bitch!”

Sukuna and Satoru grin at you, before Satoru scowls at him, and Adelia cups her face in shock. “Do not touch my husband again, is it clear, cousin?”

“You two psychos deserve each other.” She grumbles then, as Satoru shoves the King against a wall, hands on either side of him, Sukuna just smirks.

“Going to hit a King, pretty boy?”

“Pretty boy here would love to break every one of your fingers, one by one for touching her. You do not come near her again, I don’t care who you are. She is my wife. Mine.” Sukuna sighs, patting Satoru on the shoulder then, surprising all three of you in the empty hall.

“A hell of a wife you have. Don’t fuck that one up, because I think she kind of likes me.” You snort, shaking your head as Satoru steps back, glaring.

“I gave you no such impression.” He walks to you then, tilting up your chin and sighing.

“What a shame. These lips… ah well.” He saunters off, with Adelia shouting at him, waving her arms around.

“Her lips are better than mine!? Excuse me!” You and Satoru snort and shake your heads, he comes to hold you from behind, pressing you against him, kissing your cheek. You lean back against him.

“You think they are done?” You ask softly, he exhales, pulling you even closer, before turning you to him, walking forward until you’re pressed against the wall, hands pressing against your waist, hands you crave, hands you love.

“They better be. I’ll kiss every fucking memory of him out of your head.” You whine out softly, and Satoru kisses you boldly, right against that wall, cupping your face, kissing you over and over and over.

You get dizzy from it, from his nipping at your lips, from his tongue delving in your mouth, drinking your soft cries, your body reacts quickly, you feel that heat pool in your tummy, spreading between your thighs. Your own hands slide up to wrap around his neck, fingers interlocking as you tiptoe.

“I love you so much.” He whispers, desperately, you gulp, nodding quickly, uncaring if anyone saw you both.

You’re married, let them see.

“I love you, Satoru. Are you all right? Was she…”

“She means nothing. No one means fucking anything but you.” You’re melting now, as he’s shaking while he holds you, hand enwrapping in the back of your hair at the nape of your neck.

You drown in him, as your breaths mingle, as his forehead rests on yours, your eyes shut as you feel him, as the love hums through you, your entire being. “Satoru, I need you.” You whisper.

“I need you.” He hums softly. “I need out of this damned palace.”

“Let us leave.” Satoru and you rush through the ball, you’re both breathless by the time you await outside for your carriage, in the dark, chilly night you shiver just a bit, Satoru pulls you against him, warming you. “I’ll never let someone touch you.”

“I don’t want anyone to. I totally smacked him hard.”

“And you backhanded her.” You both laugh, you’re certainly both insane, aren’t you? But none of that matters, not when you have this, when you know you both can get through it all.

“My hand hurts.” He takes off your gloves then, kissing the back of your hands gently, smirking as he runs a thumb over the back of your knuckles.

“I bet it does. Tell me this wasn’t learned from the baker.”

“No! Self taught.” He snorts, and soon you’re both nestled against the carriage, and you’re pulled onto his lap, moaning as your lips meet again and again, he pulls back for a breath, as do you. “I’m so glad she did not get to you.”

“She tried her best. And you?” He asks, fingertips brushing up the line of your jaw delicately.

“He tried his best as well. Apparently, he was not part of her scheme truly? He just desired me and also wanted amusement.”

“Of course he desires you. Who doesn’t? Have to fight off a King, my best friend and a goddamn baker.” You giggle, shaking your head at him, smacking kisses along his flushed cheeks.

“Not your friend truly!”

“Mmm, debatable. Everyone wants you, but I have you.”

“Everyone wants you, Satoru. And yet I have you.”

He cups your face. “All I even fucking see is you.”

“Satoru…” You’re kissing him again, desperately, he kisses you senseless, you feel it, the desire spreading even more, wanting to be claimed by him, as he desires to mark you his.

“You’re all mine, Princess, hmm?” Satoru murmurs, slipping up your skirts, fingers darting across your garters delicately, you cry out softly, head falling back, hair falling as he starts pressing his lips against your throat.

“All yours- mmm!” Your hands enwrap in his silky hair as the carriage gently rocks you both, you feel his hard length pressing against your heat. His tongue trailing a line up a vein he sees on your throat, all the way up to your ear, his breath tickling you as you roll your hips.

His hands press into your hips, thumbs against your pelvis, pulling you even harder on him, you feel your cunt soaking his trousers, bare under your skirts, he feels himself stiffening painfully, straining against them. His tongue darts to trace your earlobe, he makes that little whimper sound as you roll on him, feeling your cunt soaking through.

“No one can ever have you, no one can take you from me.” Duke Gojo’s words are husky, desperate, one finger finding your clit and rolling in circles, your eyelashes flutter as your hips arch, his other hand cups your face. “No one.”

You’re looking at his glittering blue eyes in the dark carriage, hands slipping across his broad shoulders over his tail coat, staring into eyes you love, you adore. “No one can ever have me. It’s only you, Satoru.”

He moans now, slamming his lips on yours, the kiss is desperate and messy, much like the two of you together. You’re not perfect, far from it, you’re both a mess, you’re both as insane as this desire that pulls you, that irrevocably ties you together, as insane as the hungry kiss is. Your tongues are dripping saliva, your lips are bruising, your hands are everywhere.

You can never get enough of him.

He can never get enough of you.

“That’s it, Princess, cum for me.” He orders softly, in that husky fucking voice, and he drinks your cries when you start gushing where he’s flicking your clit faster and faster, shaking your head. He scowls. “You disobey me, hmm brat?”

“Wanna cum with you in me.” You murmur, he groans then, hastily pulling back, you eagerly help him undo his belt, unbutton his trousers, his cock springing free, you press your thumb against the slit that’s oozing pretty pearls of precum. “You’re so pretty Satoru.”

“You’re pretty, Duchess. Especially riding my cock.” He slides his tip against you while you brace yourself on his shoulders, he watches your brows go together, your mouth open in a little O, watches your eyes dilate. “Fuck you’re so pretty when you’re cock thirsty.”

“Cock thirsty!? You… know… I… please!” He smirks now, the little shithead you’re more used to, but there is something so different now.

You both are so in love you cannot see or think of anything but being together, and fuck if tonight hadn’t made you both crave it more. You, craving him to fill you up, and him, craving to pump himself in you, to leave you so full of him there’s nothing but him. But there is nothing but Satoru to you, his eyes hungrily watching you, while he’s pecking kisses on your breasts.

You’re sinking down on him, the stretch burning so delicious, the carriage jostles you just a bit, and you sink further than you intended, earning your gasp and his groan, he bites at your breasts, hands sinking you fully now. You don’t ever take this much so quickly, your velvety walls are spasming around his cock as you try to loosen up, he can’t take how tight you are.

“Can’t hold back, Princess, you feel too good.” He murmurs, apologetically, you just roll your hips, eating up those snowy lashes fluttering.

“Then don’t hold back, Duke.” He moans at that, lifting your hips and pounding up into your cunt now, you’re crying out so loud in the dark night, while you all head home slowly over cobblestone streets, and he’s pumping you so full. “Toru!”

“Pussy is fuckin made for me, hmm?” He’s mumbling, nonsensical, fucking up into you so hard, you’re trembling as you take him, feeling his tip bruise your cervix, and you’re close, so close.

You just nod weakly as he watches you, his eyes dark and hungry, as he guides your hips to move in time with his thrusts. The slap of skin on skin echoes in the enclosed space, mixed with your soft cries and his deep moans. One of Satoru’s hands moves to your neck, his thumb resting gently on your pulse point, feeling the rapid beat as he squeezes gently.

“Look at me when you cum for me, Duchess. I want to see those beautiful eyes roll back in pleasure, just for me.” His voice is a low growl, a quiet demand, you struggle to focus, feeling the pressure coil in your tummy.

You lock eyes with him, feeling the connection between you grow stronger with each passing second, the passion and the love that abounds and grows every day, somehow even the dirtiest words that spill from his mouth are sweet. Pretty little slut is sweet to your ears, the squishing of your wetness on his cock is beautiful especially when your husband looks at you like this.

Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave then, spreading all over your body, your cries echoing loudly while one of his hands squeezes your throat, watching you fall apart all over him. Your walls are convulsing around his cock, you’re barely able to hold yourself up anymore.

“Mine, mine, mine.” He grunts with every thrust, releasing your throat now, you nod quickly, gasping for a greedy breath.

“Y-yours.” You whisper, he needs it, and you need this, after everything to know who you belong to, and who he belongs to.

The grip on your hips tightening, his beautiful eyes never leaving yours, when you feel him thickening, hear the catch in his breath, the crease between his brows, you know he’s close. You press his back against the velvet carriage seat, taking a breath and rocking up and down his length again, he lets you take control, watching you hungrily.

“God, fucking look at you.” You feel your cheeks heat up at his praise, as his hands press against your stays, the fabric marking your skin, as he watches you with a lidded gaze.

“W-want you to cum for me, Toru. Please.” Your plea earns his lips slamming on yours, and he pins you down fully on his entire length, groaning into your mouth as he finds his release.

His hot spurts of cum fill you, and his throbbing cock edges you again, you’re falling with him, hopelessly into him in the little carriage, arms wrapping around your waist as he keeps pumping his cum deeper. You feel tears falling on your cheeks, legs shaking as you ride him slower and slower, as he fucks you both through the aftershocks and you’re both trembling messes.

“How are you so sexy? What you do to me?” He murmurs now, you giggle a bit, breathless, he eases out of your sore cunt, your cum and his dripping out of your little hole and onto him.

“What you do to me. Having me act so wanton and scandalous.” You tease, he chuckles a bit, sighing and cupping your face with two hands.

“Do you know what I wish, Duchess?”

“What is it, Satoru?” You both adjust yourselves somewhat, he turns you so you are sideways in his lap, pressing kisses all over your face.

“That we could redo our wedding. That I could… fix it.” You hear the emotions in his throat, you sigh, nodding then. “That you didn’t hate that night, that you weren’t crying on the fucking floor.”

“Satoru we are so far past it-”

“It does not matter, I will hate myself for it forever.”

You take his hand, pressing a kiss on the back of his knuckles, feeling emotions capture your heart. “We need not think on it, I do not hold any resentment any longer in my heart.”

“I want to do it over. I want a true wedding, I want a honeymoon… I want so much more for you than I gave.” You feel his heart racing under your palm as it rests on his chest over his dress shirt. You watch the man you adore have to handle what he has done, and all you can do is try to reassure him you do not hold anything against him, but he has to live with it.

“Do not endlessly punish yourself, I want us to be happy.” He exhales, shaking his head, hand stroking your back gently.

“This will help me, please agree to it.”

“Agree to what exactly, Satoru? What do you need?”

“I want to marry you because we want to, not because we were forced to, even though lord knows I couldn’t be happier I am with you. I want it for us, and us only. I want to carry you over that threshold, in my fucking arms. I want to make love to you on our wedding night, and have you fall asleep in my bed, and wake you up licking and kissing every inch.” His voice gets more hoarse with every word, and your heart is racing, your chest rising and falling with each breath.

“Satoru…”

“No, Princess, I need this. I need you to feel desired and loved like you were supposed to, like I should have.” He swipes tears that fall down your cheeks, you feel like you’re spinning, like you’re dizzy, like you’re in a dream.

“We have it now, I feel your love now. I feel it burning for me, as I burn for you, I feel you everywhere.” He gulps, adam’s apple bobbing.

“I know you do, but I need to show you what I should have given you, fuck what you deserve. You deserved to be happy that night, looking so beautiful, so hopeful just for me to crush you.” You’re sobbing now, as the pain sinks in, it’s almost as if you cannot imagine Satoru did it.

“I want to pretend it did not happen.” He shakes his head.

“It did happen, I did those things. I need to right them, to do it all over, to take you far the fuck away from here, somewhere beautiful, fuck you on every surface and feed you and pamper you. Like the Princess you are to me.” His words make you dizzy, images flitting your mind.

“You already make me feel that way, I swear you do.” You murmur, he takes your hand then, thumbing the pearls of the ring on your delicate finger.

“I want to marry you again, it can be just us two. But I want it, and I need it, to take you away and give you everything, to make it special for you. You deserve that and more. Let me show you my love, please, marry me because you want to, because I want you to. Because I love you so deeply it kills me, because I cannot imagine a life without you.”

“Oh, Satoru!” You are a sobbing mess now, kissing him over and over, nodding and sniffling as he holds you to him, so tightly you cannot breathe, you’re nodding weakly, and he’s smiling against your lips then.

“Will you marry me, Duchess? Truly marry me this time?” He whispers, you feel it, the love and devotion humming through every inch of your body.

“I will marry you, Duke Gojo.” He kisses you deeply, and soon the carriage comes to a halt, but you all stay there, laughing through your tears, he’s brushing your hair back, sighing and shaking his head.

“I do not deserve you.” You shake your head.

“You do deserve me, you deserve love, you deserve it all. You are not who you were, and you know I loved you even then.” You say, his full lips turn up at the corners as he gazes at you lovingly.

“I was an ass.” You giggle a bit, breathless.

“You still are a bit.”

“Excuse me?” He raises a brow, you keep giggle. “I’ll have to punish you for that. Oh, you’re far too excited.”

You bite your lip, hugging him and burying your face against his neck. “When is this wedding, hmm?”

“I will set to plan something very soon, I also will have us go to my estate in Scotland.”

“I’ve never been!”

“No? It’s beautiful. I’ll make everything right this time, I swear it.” You lean back, looking into his glistening eyes, feeling his breaths against your lips.

“We do not have to do this, but I also would love to. I have wondered, how would a true wedding night have been? If you were… my first. I wish so badly that things did not happen as they did, but then… were they meant to?”

“I was never meant to be so cruel.” He says, and you feel his anguish.

“I say let us not look upon the past, perhaps a new wedding would be a way for a fresh start. I daresay I’m rather excited.”

“God I love you.” You’re soon in his arms, he’s carrying you inside, kissing you over and over, the staff including Nan is smiling at you all as he carries you up the winding stairs. “I could hold you forever.”

“I could stay in your arms forever.” Satoru soon has you in a bath, he’s gently washing your hair, fingers pressing against your scalp, earning your sigh of happiness as he does. “Satoru…”

“Hmm?”

“I never want this to end. Us, together, so happy. Promise me, promise me nothing will tear us apart again.” You whisper, emotions making you choke up, he frowns then, cupping your face, seeing the tears glimmering as the hot water gently runs over your skin.

“Why are you saying this? Are you… do you doubt me because…” You hear the worry in his voice.

“No, no. I do not doubt you but I fear things. I fear it will all be over, and I love you so much I’ll be left with nothing.” His sweet touches and kisses melt you, you feel the anxiety lessen bit by bit.

“Breathe, please.” He orders softly, you take a breath, nodding carefully. “I will never leave you, I will never make such foolish mistakes again, I will be with you until I take my last breath, do you understand?”

You sob softly as you both kiss, as you turn and straddle him, and the water is sloshing around you both, your hands dripping down as you cup his face, as you slide your fingers through his wet, silky locks. Staring into a face that you adore, his intense gaze and tight grip reassuring you as his words sink in.

Until your last breath.

“I will be with you until then, I will be with you after, there is no me without you anymore.” He places his hand on your beating heart, feeling it flutter just for him, looking at your perfect breasts rising and falling, glistening from the water, making him so hungry again for you.

When isn’t he?

Your words of love melt him, but he’s also a man, and a man that is helpless and hopelessly turned on by his pretty wife. “Keep looking at me like that and I’m putting more cum in you.” You gasp, earning his chuckle. “You like that idea, hmm?”

“I’m sore, you fiend.”

“Your stamina…”

“Oh fuck you!” He sighs, tilting his head back as you study his perfect features, so happy for once everything else is just a whisper. “I love you.”

“And I, you.”

One Week Later

The rays of sunlight flit in, you feel it, Satoru’s firm lips on your neck, his hand splaying your tummy, you whine out and arch your back, earning his groan. He presses you on your back then, kissing across your chest, down to your breasts, shifting your thin silk chemise down to lap at one of your sensitive nipples. You cry out at it, hands entwining in his hair.

“Oh, Satoru… mmm! They hurt.” He chuckles, nipping one, it hurts so much it feels good, then he’s turned his attention to the other, and you wince in slight pain again, they’re aching. “Ah!”

“Do they really hurt that badly? You’re not due for monthlies are you.” He keeps kissing down your body, slipping the chemise to reveal every little inch of you, as you gasp and arch your back.

“No, not for a week or so. It’s so strange… oh that feels so good, though, please…” You’re whining as he plays with them more, you could almost orgasm from just his touch on your nipples, cunt dripping wet. The silk moves gently across your skin, a whisper in the quiet morning.

The lights play on the planes of his face, the way his hair falls just so, the way his eyes lock on yours as he laps at your nipple again, in slow circles, one hand bracing himself as the other squishes a breast in his grip. It hurts again, you’re jerking just a bit at it, nipples pronounced and ready for him.

“Well I like this, you all sensitive.” He teases, grinning so sexy, you feel your cheeks heat up at it.

“You like to hurt me a bit, hmm?” You challenge, whispering, Satoru leans back down, sucking a peak into his mouth, harder, his cheeks hollowing as he does, you scream out at the sensation now, when his teeth press against your areola, and the sensations spread everywhere. “F-fuck, it h-hurts…”

“Good or bad, slutty Duchess?” He asks, going to your other peak, repeating the bite of his sharp teeth, making your tummy clench, you grind on his thigh eagerly. “Fuck feel how wet you are.”

You can’t speak, the pain and pleasure so blinding, he removes his mouth from where he’s sucked your nipple until it’s all puffy and glistening from his saliva, pressing his bare thigh up against you more. You’re dripping down his leg, clit so sensitive it rivals your nipples, he starts kissing lower now, your tummy, soft kisses at first then he’s biting you.

Across your ribs, the underside of your breasts, sucking and biting and lapping you up everywhere, making you a pathetic writhing mess for him. You’re so beautiful in the soft light of the morning, in his bed, covered in his marks, your eyes dilated in pleasure, lashes casting shadows on your precious face, a face he sees every time he shuts his eyes.

God he can’t wait to marry you, truly marry you.

He’s picturing doing this in Scotland now, perhaps on some rolling green hill, your legs spread and hair splayed on some plaid, fuck he’s so ready for it, he’s mostly got it planned out, he only hopes you’ll enjoy it, he hopes it’s something beautiful, like you deserve. He’s looking up at you as he glides your chemise down your body completely, leaving you bare for his eyes to feast on.

He drinks in every line and curve of your perfect body, your smooth skin that he presses his lips against, feeling every muscle tense as he kisses even lower, as his hands press into your hips. He inhales your sweet scent, teeth nibbling your inner thighs, enjoying the glittery bite marks he’s leaving like a trail.

Satoru gets down to your dripping wet lips of your pretty pussy, he teases his finger tip at your entrance, earning your little hole drooling all down his hand, he exhales at it. “I’ve barely touched her and she’s this wet?”

“Sensitive too.” You breathe out, every little breath of his makes you jerk, even his smirk against your thighs have you pouring out, honeyed arousal making your cunt glisten. “S-Satoru…”

“Need something, Princess?” He teases, smirking up at you, his blue eyes darkening when he presses a kiss against your clit, your body jerks as desire floods through you.

“Need you.” He moans, swiping his tongue up your slit, string of saliva and your slick dripping from his tongue, your hands enwrap in his silken white hair, crying out at the sensation. “Toru, need you in me.”

“In a minute, you taste so good. Fuck you’re dripping.” He huffs in wonder, looking at his fingers coated in you, rolling them together and then slipping two fingers in your soppy little cunt, the stretch and pressure so much you’re screaming now, as his fingers press on your spot. “That’s it, fucking feel you, s’wet for me, f-fuck.”

You hear it, his fingers playing you, you’re stupid wet it’s ridiculous, his free hand slips up to grip one of your breasts again, you’re arching up off the bed, whining out at how good it feels, his tongue swirling right along with his fingers pumping. It’s too much, you fall apart so easily for him, completely unraveling, as he drinks you up, slipping his fingers out.

You pulse around nothing when he sucks you off his fingers, white lashes fluttering, then he’s kissing you, you’re lapping your sweetness off him. In the quiet morning it’s you whining into his lips, when he flips you over, laying you on your tummy, prone over you now. You’re trembling as he wraps one hand around your throat, your eyes rolling back in your skull.

“S’good, T-Toru, ah!” Your head falls back, exposing more of your throat when his leaky tip is running his precum up and down your clit, you’re trembling as he holds you, his long fingers wrap around your throat fully.

“You love it, don’t you? Me choking your pretty neck.” He murmurs, you weakly nod, ass arching up enough to allow his tip to enter your cunt, bit by bit, sinking into your eager hole.

“I love it.” You whisper, he squeezes your throat tighter, breathy moan in your ear, fucking you so deep you feel him everywhere. “Ngh!”

You’re crying out as he begins fucking into you, one hand brutally squeezing your hip, the other, squeezing your throat, you’re fading so dizzy and weak for him, velvety walls fluttering around his length. Satoru feels you squeezing him like a fucking vise, you feel him so deep, in your tummy, everywhere. Satoru’s tip hits your cervix then, he rolls his hips, and you fall apart under him.

“Fucking feel you, god you’re so tight Princess.” Your answer is a whimper, cumming all over his length, dripping down on the sheets below. “So wet feel that cunt gripping me, f-fuck.”

Satoru’s voice is desperate, his hand squeezing even harder, your vision blackening and glitter sparkling your vision when he lets you go, turning your chin to him, lips slamming on yours. Your moans are drunk by him, he wraps an arm around your waist, dragging your hips back on his length again.

“Satoru!” You’re crying out his name, voice hoarse, he rolls his hips again, the ridge of his tip brushing on your spot, sending you fucking reeling again. Your cunt is so loud with how wet she is, skin smacking in the quiet of the morning.

“That’s it, lemme feel you, gonna fuck you s’good baby.” Satoru’s nipping on your ear, then your neck, bending over you, taking over your every sense. You gasp and cry out, while he picks up your hips, finger finding your clit and rolling. “There you go, slutty cunt pouring all over the bed, huh?”

“F-fuck you, Toru.” He chuckles before crying out, as you tighten your cunt up around him, laughing breathless when he whimpers. “Too tight?”

“Slutty brat.” He huffs, the words just urging you, when he’s flipped you to your back again, cock lining up with your entrance, shoving deep inside you again, you feel your body tingling fucking everywhere when you clamp down on him again, and he scowls at you. “Loosen up, fuck.”

“Hmm? Wh-what do you mean- ah!” Satoru sinks fully in, stuffing you so full, stretching you out while he squishes your breasts in his hand again, smiling fucking devious at you. “Ah! Fucking hurts!”

“Aw poor baby can’t take it?” He huffs, challenging you, your hips lift, and he uses the movement to pull almost all the way out.

“N-no!”

He grins, then thrusts inside to the hilt, your eyes roll back, and he’s grinning now, so smug. “So much for your talk, huh?”

You just whine, biting down on your lip, your body so sensitive now, the pleasure so intense you’re shaking, your nails digging into his shoulders, he snaps those slender hips forward, slapping his pelvis against yours, you feel it in your stomach, he’s fucking you so deep, feel him everywhere, inside you, around you. He moans and cups your face, bracing himself on his elbows.

“Gonna fuck your mind up, Duchess.” He huffs, eyes bright as his grin is psychotic, but it just makes you wetter, weaker for him. “All mine, every fucking bit of you, isn’t it?” You nod weakly, pussy aching already, but he’s clearly not done, not even close, fucking you into another orgasm that has you a mess.

“Y-yes, Toru. S’all yours.” Your words are slurred, when he’s easing back, tilting your mouth open, his saliva dripping in it. Your eyes cross as your tongue hangs out, opening for his spit, his drool, and you gasp when he slams his cock so deep, big hands pressing your thighs so far apart they ache.

Satoru wants to own you, every bit of you, looking down at the fucked out mess you are under him.

His perfect Duchess, his little princess has his spit in her open mouth, her dilated eyes keep crossing and rolling. He feels those walls clutching his cock, trying to milk him for everything he’s god, he has to pull back, gasping, he doesn’t want it to end yet, he needs his Princess a fucking mess.

Satoru pulls back, up on his knees, lifting your ass up to sink deep, your head pressing back into the pillows as you swallow his spit. “Can your pretty tits handle anything right now?”

“Th-they’re so s-sensitive- ah! B-but…. yes please.” He’s bent over you, his back arching up, tongue back on them, sucking them rough. Your hands sink into his skin on his back, nails pressing in, leaving marks while he slowly pumps into your cunt again and again.

“Perfect tits, fuckin perfect body.” You melt, blinking back tears, usually in the mornings it’s some lazy sex, him cuddling you, this is insane, this is after a fight sex, it’s after a night at the ball sex, that consuming mind fucking he’s doing, along with praising every bit of you. “Those eyes, fuck.”

“You’re t-too much.” You manage, he chuckles, breathless, stroking a tear from your cheek, easing his pace finally.

“Sore, baby?” He’s smirking, teasing you.

“It’s so much. So big.” He moans at that. “Too deep, so full.”

“Yeah so full of me?” You nod weakly, his hand presses on the bulge he’s making in your tummy, fucking slower and slower, it’s so intimate and feels so good, you feel your skin slick with sweat now, feel yourself falling off the edge of the earth, clinging to the man that makes you descend into madness.

“Full, so full. You’re everywhere Toru.” Your eyes both lock then, you stare into those blue swirling storms, his pupils blown out, as he hovers over you, your leg over his arm now, leaky tip prodding your cervix. Your sensitive breasts are heaving with every breath you take, small and shaky.

“You’re everywhere, every time I close my eyes, or open them, I want to fucking see your pretty face, pretty body.” You do cry then, it’s too much. You feel so emotional lately, especially when the man you love is working you, is cupping your face, at one moment rough and brutal, at another so slow and sweet.

“Cum in me, please, Toru.” You beg, your voice a breathy cry.

His brows furrow together, his snowy lashes lowering, he moans then, capturing your lips in another breathtaking kiss. “Only if you cum first, want your slutty cunt to milk me dry.”

You whine out, when he slips his hand down, your foot is pressed against his shoulder, his strong muscles rolling when he fucks you hard now, and just like that, you’re coming again, your cunt tightening around his cock, your body writhing underneath him as you let out strangled cries. You feel the tears pouring from pleasure and the overwhelming person that is Satoru Gojo.

“There she is, fuck. Good little Princess.” He cooes, but you hear it, his hitch in his breath, the catch in his voice, he pumps quickly then, chasing his release, and then practically cries out in his own whimper when he starts cumming, kissing your neck then biting you as he rolls his hips.

“Toru- f-fuck!” You whine out, in between sobs, when his cum is pumping up into your pussy, filling you so fucking full.

“Gonna put so many babies in you, huh?” You weakly nod, tears sticky and hot on your cheeks, when he cups your face, his cock throbbing. “You’ll look so fucking beautiful full with me.”

“Toru you’re fucking my head up and it’s the morning.” You whisper, he chuckles then, swiping tears from your cheeks. “Psychotic Duke.”

“Slutty Duchess. Mmm.” You’re pulsing around him, you’re both so sensitive, when he eases out you tremble at it, your cunt dripping his cum out, so deliciously fucking sore. He shoves two fingers in your sloppy cunt then, and watches you writhe and your eyes flutter shut.

“Sadistic ass Duke.” You whine out, he laughs softly, kissing your forehead sweetly like he’s not fingering his cum back inside you.

“No, I just want you to be full of cum for tonight. Think I’ll need to put a few more in before this dance we’re going to.” You exhale, shaking your head, when he pumps again, the squishy mess of your cunt utterly lewd.

“A few more!?” You demand, narrowing your eyes, he grins.

“There she is, my mean little Duchess. Fucking love that look.”

“The ‘I’ll kill you’ look?”

“Oh yes. Mmm, don’t you want a baby anyway? How will you have one if you waste all my seed like this? Tsk tsk.” Satoru shoves his fingers so deep, you’re pulsing around his fingers again, feeling him harden against your inner thigh, cock sticky and hot.

“S’not how it works, you just love torturing me. Ngh!” He smiles against your lips, kissing you over and over.

“I do love to abuse your pretty cunt, watch that gorgeous face as I drive you fucking crazy.”

“Sadistic.”

“You’re masochistic.”

“To be with you? Yes.”

He glares now, and you’re giggling. “You little fucking brat.”

“What- ah!” Satoru’s smacked your pussy now, your thighs tremble.

“And you like it, don’t you?”

“Fuck you. Yes.” He snorts once more, kissing you as he hits your spot again, when suddenly your tummy tenses too much, and you wince a bit at it. “Satoru… it really is too much.”

“Are you too weak?” He taunts, but your tummy really hurts suddenly, you shake your head and he pulls back. “Too much, Princess?”

“N-no. Something… I feel…” You exhale, trying to breathe.

“Is it your asthma? I’ll fetch a doctor.” He says softly, the concern clear in his voice and on his features.

“No, Toru not at all. It’s… my tummy.” You wince again, turning away from him and exhaling. “It’s so tense and I feel almost sick.”

“Did I do too much?” You shake your head again, he kisses your bare shoulders, hands gently running along your back. “I don’t want you sick for the wedding.”

“I won’t be, promise. We have a week. Um, could you tell Nan to make me something to eat maybe? I feel hungry and sick?” He frowns, then nods, pecking a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll go have her make something for you.” You smile gratefully, you both clean up, then you sit up in the bed, as the wave of nausea passes, you shake your hands and try to exhale, to focus.

Soon Nan is in your room, with your coffee and some delectable muffins, they look mouth watering then. She looks at you with a small smile. “Is everything alright Duchess?”

“I believe so. I got a little queasy, oh these look so delectable!” You inhale the muffin and smell the sugar and blueberry.

“Your favorite, Duchess. Now, take a bite.” You are starving, and nauseous, it’s an odd combination, but the food is helping somehow, coating your tummy as you nibble more and more.

“Nan, could I ask you something personal?” You murmur, as you practically devour the muffin and reach for another.

“Of course, my love. You have quite an appetite, it’s so nice to see.” You flush a bit.

“I do seem to be ravenous, hmm?” You lick sugar off a finger, sipping on the coffee now.

“It’s part of being a newlywed. Which… you will be again I see.”

Marrying Satoru.

Truly marrying him.

Yes, you all are together, but this? You cannot wait.

“Indeed, I agree. But Nan… it’s personal.” You whisper, leaning close, Nan bobs her head, leaning in. “My nipples hurt so bad, my breasts ache. I am a little worried because I’m not due for monthlies. Have you ever felt this?”

She pauses then, smiling, shaking her head. “I should have guessed.”

“Guessed what, Nan?” You tilt your head curiously, and she shocks you then, touching your tummy over your blue silk wrapper you’re wearing.

“You’re glowing, you have an appetite, your… ahem…” She eyes your bosoms, fuller than usual you notice. “They hurt. That’s all signs of being with child.”

You falter then, gasping, putting your hand on hers over your tummy. “W-with child? I… are you sure?”

Satoru walks in then, grinning at you both, before he sees her hand on your tummy, his eyes dart back and forth, where Nan is touching you. He gulps then, shaking his head, lips opening then closing, just to repeat the action, lashes blinking rapidly, as if he’s putting it all together.

You turn to him, taking his hand now. “Satoru, it's just a guess, we do not surely know yet… but…”

His mouth opens and closes once more, his eyelids lowered as they stare at where your tummy is, reaching out and touching it now, placing a hand over you. “Are you…”

You nod just a bit, feeling the swelling of happiness, along with some apprehension for how Satoru would feel. Was it just talk? Would this be too much for him? You all are just starting to have this uninterrupted bliss, this perfect morning, and though you want this so badly, you want him ready.

“Are you…” He keeps trailing off, stepping closer now, Nan watches you both with a little smile. “Pregnant?”

A/N- This is very smushy and happy, yes I know this was angst but I write Happy Ever After stories only. I am working on Nanami's side story if you wish to be tagged in that plz lmk! Tysm for those who still read this, I know it's going LONG and it's a lot. I love you all bc this has become my favorite project I've written so far!

TagList: @kalopsia-flaneur @bunheadusa @7thsthings @disilluzions  @antisocialinlw @Sukunassfinger @lelsforlino @heeknow @muvasuperior @prince-wyiilder @lavender-hvze @ssetsuka  @labelt-san  @sadmonke @philiatothephobia @ambiguouslady42 @stromynight @dreamygirli3 @jjknanamin @jazlenekasi @victoriaaaa00 @wuvnada @nanasukii28 @sw3etnena @dark-agate @tamaki-simp @yuuuumii @givluv2tyy @airandyeah @sw3etnena @webshooterrr9 @miizuzu @thikcems @erensblackwife @murayamayoshiki-lovergurl @blue-musingss @huuuhwhaat @valleydoli @makingtimemine @saccharinesatoru @sunnyviewsblog @nanananananaiknow

[gurugirl]

Quiet Xmas Morning blurb | bfd!harry

⋆꙳•❅‧ ☃️‧❆ ₊⋆

Summary: Your heart is full and you have so much to be thankful for on Christmas.

A/n: I know it's not very long but there's a lot of new things in this one. If you haven't already, I'd suggest reading the previous part before you read this.

Word Count: 1,507

Warning: soft fluffy cuteness - no warnings!

best friend's dad!harry masterlist

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

The house was warm and quiet as you sat in the glider chair with your newborn in your arms. She was falling asleep slowly. She'd suckle and then her eyes would lull shut before she'd startle herself awake and start to pull at your nipple like a ravenous animal again. You smiled and smoothed your fingers over the soft hair on her head. It'd only been a week and a half since she was born but you already felt like she was your everything. It surprised you how deeply you already loved her.

Elara came a little early but you were ready for her. Harry said she wanted to make it in time for Christmas. She had to be monitored for a few extra days but she was healthy and she was perfect.

You saw the glow from the Christmas tree lights filtering into her room from downstairs and then heard a little rustling. Harry must have also been up. He was sleeping when you got up to feed the baby but he often would wake up when you'd get up. It was still something to get used to. You were more exhausted than you'd ever been in your life but maybe that explained why you were so deliriously in love with her.

Her suckling grew weak again, little eyes closed, and then… she was fast asleep. After waiting a few minutes, just in case, you carefully and gently got up from the chair and tiptoed to her crib to lower her down all without waking her.

She was perfect. Yes. That was true. But she was easy to wake and she'd cry for hours if she was woken up before she was ready.

Harry stood behind you and placed a hand on your shoulder as he looked down at your little creation with you. He knew better than to even whisper so you both just smiled at one another before quietly padding out of her room and closing the door behind you.

Your body was still sore. You knew it would take time to get back to feeling like yourself. Even walking downstairs felt like something was going to knock loose and fall out of your body. Harry held your hand.

"Merry Christmas, Mama," he kissed your lips softly when you got to the first floor.

The living room was dark except for the soft golden lights wrapped around the faux Christmas tree. You preferred a real one normally but it was too much work that year. Plus the smell bothered you when you and Harry had gone to check out the tree farm weeks earlier.

"Got your gift under the tree," he motioned.

You looked under the tree to see one small box with a bow. You hadn't wrapped any of Harry's and they were all tucked away, hidden in the closet in the basement.

"I didn't wrap yours. I'm sorry," you reached up to cup his face and he brought an arm around your back.

"You already gave me the best present I could ever ask for."

You grinned, "That I did. But you played a major role in that gift. So technically I could consider that a gift from you as well."

He grinned and pressed his lips to yours, "I'd say my role was very minor. All I had to do was get off a few times. You did all the hard work. All the stuff that counts."

A laugh puffed from your lips, "Okay. That I agree with."

You smelled coffee suddenly and realized Harry was making a pot.

"Decaf." He raised his brows at you. You were staying away from caffeine since you were breastfeeding. The doctor said you could have a little bit every day but Elara was fussy enough as it was. The last thing you wanted was a grouchy, angry baby hocked up on traces of caffeine.

"My mouth is watering," you spoke with a smile.

"Why don't you sit down and I'll get your coffee. Then we can open up your Christmas present."

Harry frothed a little milk for you while he took his coffee black. Even he was drinking decaf when he could have just had regular. He walked back into the living quietly, two steaming mugs in hand before handing you yours and sitting his down on the coffee table.

You took a sip as he reached under the tree to pull out the small red box. It had a small golden ribbon tied around it.

"What is it?" You held your palm out as he placed the box down into your hand.

"Well, you have to open it up first."

Taking another quick sip of your coffee before you leaned forward to place the ceramic mug down you looked at Harry with a big grin. The glittering lights from the tree were twinkling off his eyes as he looked down at the box and then up at your face.

You pulled at the ribbon and then paused when he sat up, about to push himself off the cushion, "What are you doing?"

He swallowed and you noticed that he suddenly seemed nervous, anxious. He shook his head and shrugged, "Nothing. Was just getting comfortable is all."

You squinted at him as he looked down at your hand. Then it was your turn for the nerves to take over. You couldn't be sure what was in the box but something told you that it was going to change everything. You knew Harry very well and his sudden excitement had your heart pounding in your chest. And given the size of the box…

"Harry…" you blinked your eyes and placed your hand over the lid as you swallowed.

"Just open it, baby. See what it is." He was still sitting at the edge of the cushion, watching you as you pulled the lid off. Inside was another, smaller box—a jewelry box.

You inhaled and looked up at him. He wore a soft smile on his face as he tensed his arms, like he was about to spring from the couch.

The moment you placed your fingers on the velvet-hinged top to lift it, he pushed himself onto his knees and scooted in between your thighs as the beautiful little shining diamond glinted from inside the box. A ring. But not just any ring.

He waited for a beat, his eyes on yours as your jaw dropped and you covered your mouth before looking at him in surprise.

Harry took the ring out of the box and held it between his thumb and pointer finger, "I love you. I want forever with you, Y/n. I know we're not in a rush but I couldn't wait another moment to put a ring on your finger. Tell the whole world you're mine."

You gasped out a quiet sob and just as he was about to continue you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his neck to kiss him hard. You never imagined that you'd cry when he finally proposed but of course, your hormones were all out of whack and you'd been finding yourself crying for the smallest things lately.

He laughed when you pecked kisses over his cheek, "Yes, Harry…"

"Baby, I didn't even finish th—"

You smushed your lips over his again, swallowing his words as he pulled you into his arms until you were in his lap on the floor between the couch and the coffee table.

"I love you, Harry…" You smeared your lips down to his jaw and he chuckled quietly.

"Gonna put it on?"

Pulling away from him, you looked down at his hand and spread your fingers out for him to slip the ring onto your finger. It was dainty and perfect—one small diamond at the top, set in white gold. You held your hand up, and you admired the way it looked on your hand for a moment.

Harry wrapped his big palm around yours and pulled your hand up to his mouth, "That's a yes? You'll marry me?"

You sputtered a laugh and nodded, "Of course I will."

He kissed your knuckles and grinned at you before you pulled your hand away and wrapped your arms around his neck to squeeze him tight. Harry tucked his face into your hair and put his arms around your back.

It was going to be the best Christmas day ever. Fae would be coming by for a couple of hours and then your parents later in the evening. Telling everyone you were finally engaged would be exciting but the best part was that you and Harry had the most precious gift lying upstairs sleeping already.

You placed your hand over his chest and ran your nose against his, "I'm so happy, Harry. I love you so much."

He shifted his legs and ran a big palm up your back, "That's all I want, for you to be happy, Y/n."

Harry got exactly what he wanted because you'd never been as happy as you were in that moment.

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[leona-hawthorne]

okay i have been waiting for this on the edge of my seat and i'm so fucking grateful that i finally got to sit down and read it (alone, of course, because my reactions were quite literally animalistic)

let me also add that the warnings themselves had me fucking moaning—alright now let's get into this!!

zoya, your writing truly has me in complete awe. "english is not my first language" okay and it appears that that literally does not matter at all because this??? this was a goddamn masterpiece.

(apologies in advance bc this is going to be an extremely long reblog)

He was insane. Truly insane. Almost unhinged. Mattheo Riddle was the definition of impulsive thoughts turned into reckless actions, actions that always led him to trouble. He was raw, magnetic, and dangerously unpredictable, the kind of person who attracted attention without even trying.

okay, but this right here??? the way you captured mattheo's essence so perfectly, i’m obsessed. like, he’s not just reckless—he’s raw and magnetic, and that’s such a powerful way to describe someone who’s constantly teetering on the edge of chaos. it’s like you reached into his chaotic little soul and pulled out the perfect words. it’s giving “force of nature,” and the way you wrote it feels so vivid and alive, like i can see him and feel the tension he carries everywhere he goes. your writing is so sharp and evocative, i can’t stop rereading this bit.

He didn’t just attract trouble; he craved it, needed it like it was the only thing keeping him seen.

the truth was different: he thrived on attention, bad or good, as if he needed it to keep himself whole.

my babyyy, he craves trouble like it’s the only way he can feel noticed. it’s like he’s reduced his own worth to just being seen and perceived by others, even if it means chaos. love how you captured that desperation in such a short line.

every corner seemed like an unsettling, cavernous form that resembled a muggle abandoned cathedral. It felt sacred in a weird twisted way, as if it were built to bear the weight of sinful actions that were too heavy to confess elsewhere.

how do you set the tone so well?!? the imagery is wildly vivid—i can almost feel the heaviness of the space, like it’s got its own dark history!!

The only thing he knew for sure was that you almost had him entirely.

And for him, that was awful enough.

oh this killed me—the tension between wanting something and being terrified of it. mattheo’s vulnerability here is chef's kiss, showing how much he's fighting against his feelings, even when he’s almost lost to them. such a perfect snapshot of their dynamic.

He never quite understood why his heart raced when he was in your presence, as if it might break through his ribs, his flesh, and fall directly into your palms, fully out of his power. At times he couldn't help but press his hand against his own chest, trying to stop it, trying to hold it back, but it only frustrated him further.

Nevertheless, there were times when he nearly wished his heart would simply give way and land in your hands so you could do with it whatever you pleased, whether that meant crushing it entirely or holding it tenderly between your fingers.

okay i am genuinely so in love with this whole part, i had to reread it like 3 times 😵‍💫 the internal conflict is so palpable—like, he’s torn between wanting to control something that’s clearly already beyond his grasp, but also secretly wishing to surrender to the one person who can break him. the image of him physically pressing down on his chest to stop it??? i am actually crying, zoya. ugh, and the fact that he doesn't care whether he'd be hurt or cared for—he just wants her, FUCK he is obsessed.

This ritual, this moment—it was his, only his. Yet, for some reason, he felt a twisted satisfaction knowing he was going to share it with you.

AHDHSFG his possessive ass actually enjoying sharing something??? aw he likes her 😚🤗

Mattheo let out a low, almost manic laugh as his gaze remained fixed on the blade in his hand.

the way he kept laughing like a fucking maniac throughout the entirety of this fic OMG i can almost hear it in my head, he's so fucking hot.

his grip tightening around your hand, not to soothe you, but to remind himself you were still there

I'M BLUSHING, idk if he's doing that solely because of the ritual but either way, the fact that he wants to reassure himself that she didn't go anywhere is making my heart squeeze in my chest 🥹

Mattheo chuckled dryly, releasing your hand to stop you from gripping it, from finding any comfort in his presence.

BITCH??!?! YOU ASSHOLE, hold my hand i'm scared ☹️

He was an insensitive prick, but dear god, he was a beautiful one. 

this is so true—HE'S FUCKING MEAN, but i genuinely have never seen a more angelic man 😭🪽

Shit, you’re not wearing a bra.

Mattheo swore the zipper on his pants was going to break any second.

alr here we go (i'm horny now)

Without a word he reached up and tugged his shirt over his head, casting it aside without care.

well shit, now we're both hard, mattheo!! 🤜💥🤛 (i am drooling at the thought of this rn)

Your bare chests were almost touching, the air thick with tension, your hard nipples brushing just slightly against his skin.

no, you actually don't understand—this is so intimate, i can just imagine the silence and the only sound being their heavy ass breathing, its so 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 also i think i would lose my mind if my nips were like JUST BARELY brushing against him, what a tease

With a deep breath, you pressed the blade to your palm, hissing softly as the edge cut into your skin, making you feel even more bare and open than you already did.

idk if you've seen stranger things but this is making me think of when nancy and jonathan did the same exact thing and cut their palms. that scene and the matching scars and just them in general is so dear to me, so this is making me feel so many things rn

Without warning, his lips pressed against the spot, his tongue tracing the blood.

“It’s so sweet,” he murmured, his teeth grazing the skin of your neck, the crimson of your blood staining them as he pulled you closer, pressing you against him in a way that felt almost inhuman. “So fucking sweet.”

okay mr vampire!! (this is so fucking hot i am literally struggling to function rn and i am lucky i didn't read this during ovulation 🙂‍↕️)

Mattheo chuckled in satisfaction, bringing his bloodied hand to your stomach, the crimson spreading across your exposed skin like a mark. “You like it, don’t you?”

MY JAW DROPPED PLEASE OH MY GOD, HIM SPREADING THE COLD BLOOD ON HER STOMACH?? I CAN IMAGINE MYSELF JERKING AWAY OMF YES DADDY I LOVE IT

Mattheo chuckled again against your throat, his teeth sinking into the spot once more, making you moan. He mimicked the sound...

i'm being so serious, this part will live on in my brain forever. him MIMICKING/MOCKING HER MOAN??? HE'S SO MEAN AND COCKY HOLY FUCK THAT WAS SO HOT

he guided your hand to your neck, then down to your breasts, trailing the blood like a map. Before you could react to the sting of your hard nipple pressing against the cut, Mattheo moved faster, pulling your nipple—now smeared with your own blood—into his mouth. 

spreading her own blood all over her body just so he can lick it off, oml can you spread my legs open next, mattheo? 😇 (jk, they're already spread)

The way his hands pushed your now bloody breasts together enough for his head to dive between them as he continued to whisper praises, words of hunger.

“Your tits…”Mattheo moaned even louder, dragging a moan from your lips in response. Fuck, he was so close.

first, AJDGHFDJHDRFGJHAFGHJSRGFJHSRF him pressing her tits together just to SHOVE HIS FACE IN BETWEEN oh he's so down bad 🤭 also the "your tits..." BOY. he was so cocky and degrading before—now he's all pathetic and obsessing over her tits? ah, just what I love to see 😮‍💨

“Open your mouth,” he commanded, an order you immediately understood. You obeyed without hesitation, and before you could react, he spat into your mouth and thrust his tongue inside, kissing you deeply.

yes sir please spit in my mouth (he's so nasty and disgusting and i fucking love him for it)

You could feel Mattheo’s cheeks pressed against your thighs as he buried himself in your pussy, suffocating himself in your scent and taste. He mentally begged some higher power to let him one day die like this...

YES PLEASE LET ME SUFFOCATE YOU BETWEEN MY LEGS MATTY PLS 🙏 "let him one day die like this" he is so obsessed god i love this so much

“Such a pretty one you are,” he muttered, his words slurring into the juices of your cunt.

THE WAY HE CAN'T TEAR HIS FACE AWAY EVEN JUST FOR A MOMENT TO SPEAK AJDGSGDFHSDFG i would actually be dying at all the praise

clearly, i got a little carried away with this reblog (this is literally the longest reblog i’ve ever made 🧍🏻‍♀️), but what can i say? this was 6.3k words of art and i had to include all my favorite parts 🤷‍♀️🙂‍↕️

love you zoya!!!! 🫂🤍

𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍

mattheo riddle x fem reader

SUMMARY. in which mattheo seeks power and needs your help to perform a blood ritual. WORDS. +6.3K. english is not my first language.

WARNINGS. smut, mdni, porn w//plot, mean mattheo, aged up characters, friends to fuck buddies, blood play, blood kink, cuts, spitting, nipple sucking, oral sex f!receiving, pussy drunk mattheo, handjob, dirty talk, biting, marking.

navigation -> masterlist

He was insane. Truly insane. Almost unhinged. Mattheo Riddle was the definition of impulsive thoughts turned into reckless actions, actions that always led him to trouble. He was raw, magnetic, and dangerously unpredictable, the kind of person who attracted attention without even trying. Every move he made, every word he spoke, every breath he took was saturated with confidence and superiority.

He didn’t just attract trouble; he craved it, needed it like it was the only thing keeping him seen.

Mattheo was like a storm no one could outrun, an enigma without resolution, and that was exactly what made him so intoxicating. There was something in his presence that pulled people toward him, whether in admiration or fear, and no one could quite decide if it was for better or worse. He wasn’t just hard to ignore; he was impossible to overlook. He demanded attention simply by existing, and it was maddening, the way he could dominate a room with nothing more than a simple glance.

It could have been for a lot of reasons. Maybe it was the way he acted like he didn’t have a care in the world, the sharp, biting comments he always seemed to have ready, words that stuck like blood on stone.Or maybe it was the fights, the way he seemed to throw himself into them too often, always coming out with the same satisfied expression. After all, he was the only son of the Dark Lord, and that alone was enough to draw all kinds of attention.

Whatever was the reason, chaos seemed to follow him everywhere, like he thrived on it. Perhaps he didn’t care at all. No outsider really knew, and no one ever tried to figure him out. Nobody had the courage to do so.

Either way, there were always whispers about him, cruel rumors about his personality and massive ego, some saying he was just like his father, or maybe even a darker version of him, while others came from students eager to get close in obscene ways, hoping to spend a night with their bodies tangled in his. 

Yet Mattheo didn’t show that he cared, always pretending to be focused on his own goals, moving through the chaos unshaken and unbothered, though deep down, the truth was different: he thrived on attention, bad or good, as if he needed it to keep himself whole.

But you had seen enough to know the truth. He was cruel, ruthless, and everything people whispered about him, perhaps even worse. And yet, here you were, trapped in his chaos, each moment with him drawing you deeper into the darkness.

You were trapped. Absolutely trapped.

Perhaps it was in the way he looked at you, his deep brown eyes burning with an intensity that stole your breath away, leaving you struggling to keep your heart from racing, as if he saw something inside of you that you weren’t capable of seeing. Or maybe it was the way his words stayed in your mind long after they were spoken, carving their way into your thoughts like a knife you didn’t want to pull out, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were already in too deep.

If you thought about it more, you didn’t know what had brought you here. The main factor to why you were so attracted to an ongoing fire.

Could be the adrenaline from his strange proposal, or the way you couldn’t stop thinking about him, his presence always glued to your mind. Could also be the need to be near him, the way your body moved toward his as if it had no will of its own, or perhaps it was the way he seemed to control your heart in a way you couldn’t even understand. It was twisted, even a little scary, but neither of you cared.

After all, you were friends.

You didn’t know when it stopped feeling like curiosity—just a lingering thought— but the doubt never really went away. Instead it became prominent, tight in your chest whenever he was around. There was something darker about him, something dangerous in the way he lived recklessly, only focused on his own desires, how he thrived on the attention he got, pulling you deeper without even trying.

And now, standing there, you couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever came next, there was no turning back. No escape.

The Room of Requirement was cloaked in dark shadows, the silence broken only by the faint hiss of flickering candles. Their soft, wavering light offered a fragile sense of comfort, though it did little to ease the tension hanging in the air. The atmosphere was thick and heavy, saturated with the acrid tang of burning incense and something darker, almost unspoken.

Torchlight flickered across the cold stone walls, making jagged patterns that twisted and stretched with each almost shiny flicker. That night, the requirement room felt weird, unlike the form other students seemed to used—every corner seemed like an unsettling, cavernous form that resembled a muggle abandoned cathedral. It felt sacred in a weird twisted way, as if it were built to bear the weight of sinful actions that were too heavy to confess elsewhere.

The faint metallic scent in the air lingered, sharp and heavy, mixed with something even more heavy, felt almost like a warning. On the stone floor, crude runes spiraled out in precise, jagged lines, their edges glowing faintly as though alive and energetic, pulsing in time with the biting silence as if they were watching, waiting to know what was about to take place.

In the center of it all stood Mattheo Riddle, the one person who seemed to take up every space in your mind, his dark robes draping loosely over his strong frame, giving him an effortless air of power, his features, defined and almost angelic, partially hidden by his messy curls that always fell into his pretty eyes.

The flickering torchlight danced off his hair with every movement, making it seem almost alive; there was something strange about how his appearance seemed almost angelic, yet you knew Mattheo’s true personality, making him all the more dangerous, like a trap just waiting for you to step in.

He could look still, even controlled, but there was nothing controlled about this. Nothing about him was controlled.

Mattheo looked at the dagger in his hands, his gaze drifting over the blade, but it wasn’t the dagger that had his attention. It was you. Your eyes were on him, and it felt like he was being torn apart with just that look. It wasn’t like the attention he was used to—no fear or admiration in it.

No, this was different. It was more like an assessment. The weight of your gaze was almost suffocating, as if you were digging into him, getting under his skin in a way that made him feel stupidly exposed and making him feel a strange sensation tighten in his chest, choking his throat in ways he couldn’t understand, and he hated it.

He hated how you made him feel like this—torn between wanting to get closer and wanting to run away from that. And even if it was good or bad; neither mattered. He didn’t want to know. The only thing he knew for sure was that you almost had him entirely.

And for him, that was awful enough.

He never quite understood why his heart raced when he was in your presence, as if it might break through his ribs, his flesh, and fall directly into your palms, fully out of his power. At times he couldn't help but press his hand against his own chest, trying to stop it, trying to hold it back, but it only frustrated him further.

Nevertheless, there were times when he nearly wished his heart would simply give way and land in your hands so you could do with it whatever you pleased, whether that meant crushing it entirely or holding it tenderly between your fingers. He wasn't certain which would provide him with greater comfort, but he was certain that if you gave him that satisfaction, he will never be the same again.

Mattheo sighed and shook his head rapidly, making a dramatic gesture as he attempted to avoid your concentrated, evaluating stare on him once more. He concentrated on the tiny silver dagger in his hand, trying not to hold it too firmly in his palm, but nothing could take away the sensation, and even if it didn't cause him any discomfort, the pressure that made it was obvious.

He let out another sigh, this time frustrated, rubbing his forehead, but couldn’t help releasing another, this time a relieved one, when he saw your attention shift to the two circles drawn around him, almost like some kind of illustration, and he couldn’t help but smirk knowingly as he noticed the change in your expression; at the confusion in your eyes and at your furrowed brows as you tried to make sense of the strange symbols, carefully etched inside the circles on the floor.

Mattheo looked away, quickly shifting his focus to the symbol at his feet. In comparison with the other symbols, this one was far more complex, with each line and curve being meticulous and precise. As he raised his chin in satisfaction with what he did, Mattheo couldn't help but widen his smirk into a full grin, an equal amount of pride and arrogance coming across his expression.

This ritual, this moment—it was his, only his. Yet, for some reason, he felt a twisted satisfaction knowing he was going to share it with you. Even though you were there not completely voluntarily, you still had a place in it, whether you liked it or not. 

This time, it was Mattheo who looked at you with an intense, almost predatory gaze, his hand tightening once more around the blade in his palm as he kept his eyes on you. He was already preparing to take the first step toward the power he would gain from what you two were about to do. All he needed was your final confirmation and for you to step into the middle of the circle with him.

“Are you ready for this?” His voice broke the silence, low and almost a purr, making you look up at him. Ready? Fuck no. In fact, you were terrified. Every part of you screamed to run, to get as far away from this room and this stupid ritual as possible. But your body didn’t listen to your brain. Your heart didn’t either. Instead, you stayed still, frozen, your eyes locked with his own, already filled with amusement and something darker, like a challenge. 

You knew this was stupid. Hell, it was almost suicidal. A ritual to give him more power, cutting your own hand, spilling your blood, mixing it with his just to make him stronger. It was madness. More than that, even.

But then again, a part of you wanted it. A part of you wanted to leave a piece of yourself with him, to bind yourself to him in some twisted way. And for some fucked-up reason, you craved that. You wanted to be marked by him, to have a part of you inside him forever. Mattheo had already carved his mark into your mind, into the darkest corners of your heart, and now you wanted to do the same.

Stupid curiosity.

“Well?” Mattheo asked again, his voice dripping with amusement, though you could hear the faint edge of annoyance creeping in. He tried to hold onto his usual confident, relaxed demeanor, but it was slipping. “What’s it gonna be?” The same damn question. You wouldn’t be stupid enough to make him ask a third time. 

“I…” You paused, your voice cracking, and you couldn’t help but curse yourself under your breath as you felt his gaze digging into you, waiting for the answer he wanted. “I think I’m ready,” you finally said, taking a step forward, ignoring the part of you screaming to get the hell out of there. Yet your body moved faster than your mind, and before you knew it, you took an unconscious step closer to him, making his eyebrow quirk in amusement. 

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, his smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You think?” he repeated, his voice thick with mockery. He almost laughed; if it were not for the situation you two were in.

“Fuck—” you hissed under your breath, cursing yourself again, and Mattheo’s smirk stretched wider. “I’m ready.” You corrected yourself, the words tasting wrong. “I’m ready,” you said again, this time to convince yourself more than him.

Mattheo let out a low, almost manic laugh as his gaze remained fixed on the blade in his hand. The sound sent an unexpected shiver down your spine, and your cheeks flushed as his voice echoed in your ears. When he looked back at you, his eyes were softer than before, though the usual intensity remained, as if he was offering something that, despite not being comfort, somehow left you feeling relieved in a way.

He stretched his hand towards you, his voice calmer than before but still firm. “Let’s go. The sooner we start, the sooner this thing is going to end.” The sooner he would have control. Mattheo called you again, and you let out a soft sigh before taking that first step.

Each step you took was filled with hesitation, but your body didn’t seem to care. It moved toward the circle, fighting the doubt gnawing on your mind. When you finally stepped inside, you couldn’t hold back a small sigh as your hand found Mattheo’s. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, your cheeks flushing as you saw the same smirk on his lips, the reaction causing a tug on your heart. He didn’t need to say anything; you could feel how much he enjoyed this, how much he knew the effect he had on you.

Sometimes you wanted to punch him. 

As soon as you took his hand, Mattheo’s confidence wavered slightly; his heart pounded just by your touch. However, he couldn’t hide the dark amusement in his eyes as he watched your flushed cheeks and how your body betrayed you. It was too easy.

“This,” he said, gesturing to the intricate runes carved into the floor with the tip of his dagger, his grip tightening around your hand, not to soothe you, but to remind himself you were still there. “It’s going to hurt like hell.” He said it with such ease, as if the pain and the blood were just a minor part. You swallowed hard, the confirmation of what you already knew settling deep in your stomach. “At least for you,” he added with an eyebrow raised, his voice laced with amusement.

His words weren’t reassuring at all—not that you expected them to be. He didn’t care about calming you or making this easier to bear. That wasn’t his style, and it never had been. Mattheo thrived in chaos, in mess, and he wanted you to feel every bit of it. He wanted to pull you into the madness, to push you until you struggled to keep yourself together.

“You’re not exactly helping me calm down, you know?” you said through gritted teeth, barely stopping yourself from telling him to go fuck himself. 

Mattheo chuckled dryly, releasing your hand to stop you from gripping it, from finding any comfort in his presence. “Glad to know, sweetheart.” He said casually, like it didn’t matter at all. “But who said I want you to calm down?” he murmured, and you might have thought he was joking if it weren’t for the fact that you had known him for years.

You scoffed at his lack of sympathy. It wasn’t surprising, though; his attitude was one of the things that drew you to him, even if it wasn’t exactly healthy. You watched as he lit more candles, the flame dancing with every step he took, highlighting the sharp lines of his features. He was an insensitive prick, but dear god, he was a beautiful one. 

After a few seconds, Mattheo stood up, still holding the dagger in his hand. He glanced at you, and for a brief moment, something in his gaze made his heartbeat almost thud down his ribs. He took a few steps toward you, and your eyes met. His dark eyes were intense, unreadable, and the weight of the air between you made your stomach twist. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and steady, with a hint of mischief in his tone. The corner of his mouth twitched, the excitement creeping slowly.

“Take off your shirt.”

You blinked, shocked, and for a few seconds, all your fear vanished. “Excuse me?!”

Mattheo observed you, almost as if he were stripping you bare. “Your shirt,” he repeated, his tone annoyingly dismissive. He spun the dagger in his palm with flawless precision, taking a step closer as if your hesitancy pleased him. “Take it off,” he said almost coolly, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.

You crossed your arms, feeling your heart race as your face flushed with heat. “And why, exactly, do I need to do that?” You snapped, your voice sharp. You had fantasized a thousand times about Mattheo asking you to do this, but you never imagined it would actually happen, especially not now, in this situation. 

“For the ritual,” he said simply, tilting his head and giving you a smirk that bordered on taunting, as though the answer should’ve been obvious. “I need access to your skin, sweetheart. The magic won’t work otherwise.” His words were smooth, but you couldn’t shake the feeling they held a hint of mockery.

You hesitated, studying him closely. There was something about his response that didn’t sit right, too casual in a way that felt almost taunting, like he wasn’t being completely honest. “You’re making that up,” you said flatly, letting your arms drop to your sides, your eyes narrowing as you searched on his face for a sign of truth. 

His smirk widened, and he continued to twirl the dagger between his fingers, his eyes locked on you. The sight of your flushed cheeks only seemed to make him think with his other head. “Am I?” He took another step closer. 

“Please, Mattheo, I know that’s bullshit!” you spat out, trying to ignore how his smug expression made your skin heat, though particularly of you couldn’t help but consider it.

Mattheo let out a low chuckle, stepping closer, the tension between you nearly unbearable. His voice dipped, rough and almost deliberate, as his dark eyes shamelessly trailed down your body before locking onto yours again.

“Alright,” he murmured, a smile laying wickedly on his lips. “Maybe it’s not entirely necessary. But it helps. A lot.”

The dagger moved lazily in his hand, the sharp edge skimming his palm without cutting his palm. His gaze never left you, steady and intense, like a predator watching its prey. “And we both know you want this to work out, don’t we, sweetheart?” 

Your breath hitched in your throat at his words, a truth you hated to admit even to yourself. You wanted him to notice you—really notice you—the way his gaze seemed to strip you bare, peeling back layers you didn’t even realize you had. But the sharp flare of anger clawed its way up your chest, tangling with the strange pull he always seemed to have over you, leaving you somewhere between furious and helpless.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, shaking your head, the disappointment cutting deeper than you wanted to admit. You weren’t sure if it was aimed at him or at yourself for falling into this moment—this trap. Probably both. 

“And yet,” he said, taking another step toward you, “here you are.” He mocked you, making you bite your tongue to stop yourself from telling him to fuck off. 

The space between you two was basically nonexistent now, and Mattheo fucking hated it. Hated that it was him moving closer, like he couldn’t help himself. Hated how his body had a mind of its own, reacting to you in ways that made him feel like an idiot. The thought of you, without your shirt, without anything, was driving him insane, his imagination running wild no matter how much he tried to shove it down.

Fuck. He could already feel the strain in his pants, his cock pressing uncomfortably against the fabric. It pissed him off—how easily you got under his skin, how fucking hard it was to keep his cool around you. 

“Fine,” you bit out, your voice rougher than you felt, and Mattheo’s smile twisted with satisfaction, practically waiting for you to do it. You exhaled sharply, trying to ignore the way his eyes were glued to you. Your fingers lingered at the hem of your shirt, heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to find the guts to go through with it. 

Mattheo’s smirk only deepened, his eyes never leaving you, and for a moment, it felt like he was inside your head, reading you like a damn book. His gaze dropped low, just enough to make your skin prickle with awareness. You seemed so fucking soft. “Need help?” he asked, voice dripping with mockery. 

“Shut up, Mattheo” you snapped, yanking the fabric over your head in one swift motion, a shiver running through your whole body. Shit, you’re not wearing a bra.

The second the shirt left your body, the air felt heavier, but you felt the coldness against your exposed skin and nipples. Mattheo’s expression shifted, his smirk slipping for a moment as his eyes scanned over you, taking in more than you were prepared to show. You cursed yourself for not wearing a bra under the thin fabric, your chest bare under the dim torchlight and his searing gaze. Mattheo swore the zipper on his pants was going to break any second.

You couldn't help but feel trapped by his piercing stare as his eyes remained on you, shamelessly tracing your hard nipples. He seemed oblivious; nonetheless, his eyes burned with need as his mind wandered, thinking about the taste of his tongue on your nipples, sucking and biting until all you could think about was the feel of his wet tongue. He held the dagger tightly, only reacting when the blade cut into his flesh.

“Well,” he began, attempting to put the thoughts flowing through his head to the back of his mind, his voice rougher than before, “guess you were more ready than we thought.” He mocked you again, but it seemed like he was also mocking himself.

You could feel your cheeks burning, a mix of anger and something else boiling inside you. You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to block him out, but the moment you saw the way Mattheo’s eyes were fixed on you filled with desire, your hands fell to your sides, betraying your own brain. You wanted this. You wanted him to see you, to really see you.

But as you realized you were staring at him in the same way, you quickly shook your head, trying to push down the desire and need, force some control back into your own voice. “Just get on with it,” you ‘snapped’, trying to hide how much it stung, how much you craved that attention. 

Mattheo’s smirk returned, but this time it was sharper, full with devilment. He took another step toward you, his eyes never leaving yours, and gestured toward the circle with a lazy flick of his hand. “As you wish.”

His expression didn’t shift, his confidence simmering just below the surface as he stepped even closer to you, trying not to look at your bare chest. His eyes flickered to the symbols on the ground, their faint glow reflecting in the depths of his gaze. Without a word he reached up and tugged his shirt over his head, casting it aside without care. He didn’t look at you but still waited for your reaction. You had already drawn one from him—only fair if he returned the favor, right?

You, on the other hand, swallowed hard, your gaze shamelessly tracing the lines of his abdomen and bare, muscular chest. The candles and torchlight cast sharp shadows across the scars etched into his skin, and you held your breath without meaning to. When he glanced forward slightly, his eyes still on the ground as he did so, he had to stifle a chuckle at the sight of your clenched fists, trying to control yourself.

This was going to be fun, at least.

For a brief moment, neither of you spoke or moved. The silence stretched thin, both of you consumed by the same thoughts, the same dirty images racing through your minds. Your chests rose and fell heavily, both of you struggling to regain a normal breath. It was fucking madness. 

Mattheo quickly composed himself, standing at the point of the small symbol on the ground, making sure you mirrored his position on the opposite side. Your bare chests were almost touching, the air thick with tension, your hard nipples brushing just slightly against his skin. He gave a low sigh, words slipping from his lips in a language you couldn’t understand, his voice deep and commanding.

As soon as the words left his mouth, the symbols on the floor pulsed to life, glowing with an eerie light, while the candle flames flickered wildly, as though responding to his words. 

He looked at the dagger in his hand, a proud glint in his eyes before letting his gaze drift up to your face. His eyes lingered on your features, the softness of your eyes, the way your lips parted just enough to drive him insane. He almost couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to touch you, but he stayed still, his jaw tight. “Are you ready?” he asked, his lips moving without sound. “I am,” you mouthed back, the hesitation in your eyes impossible to miss. But he ignored it, choosing to focus on the way you stood there—no turning back now, and honestly? He didn’t want you to cover up. 

Mattheo gripped the dagger with steady hands, his brown eyes flickering briefly to the runes as if making sure everything was aligned. Without a second thought, he pressed the sharp blade to his palm, slicing through the skin with quick, practiced precision. The blood surged from the cut, dripping thick and dark onto the glowing runes below. They reacted violently, flaring brighter, more alive, as if the blood was feeding the symbols, feeding him. 

You held your breath, knowing you were next. But you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at the ground, watching his blood drip onto the floor beneath both of your feet.

After a few seconds, he lifted his chin, pride in his eyes, his curls moving like the magic around the circles. He grabbed your hand without a word, pressing the dagger into your palm, his gaze never leaving yours. He was waiting, daring you to cut yourself just like he had. 

You felt his blood drip onto your wrist, the warmth of it sending a jolt through your veins. As the dagger pressed into your palm, a breath caught in your throat. The weight of the blade was more than you expected, and for a moment, your eyes lingered on the crimson stains left by Mattheo’s cut, almost hypnotic, tempting you.

Your heart quickened, your pulse echoing in your ears. You hesitated—for a moment. His eyes found you once again, a look that urged you to continue. The hesitation lingering in your heart suddenly dispersed; you wanted nothing but to mark him as yours.

With a deep breath, you pressed the blade to your palm, hissing softly as the edge cut into your skin, making you feel even more bare and open than you already did. The pain was sharp, fleeting, quickly replaced by the blood spilling down your skin, as the runes reacted violently to your action, their glow flaring in response. 

It was instantaneous. The moment your blood touched the floor, the room seemed to exhale, the light flaring brighter and the air humming with a charged, almost electric energy as the ritual began. But the reaction was brief, for Mattheo’s focus shifted.

Mattheo’s gaze was fixed on the cut on your hand, his eyes wide and unblinking, as if he was mesmerized by the crimson blood streaks trailing down your wrist, mingling with his the drops of his blood already on your skin. His jaw clenched, and you swore you saw him swallow hard as he continued to look, his chest rising and falling with a depth of intensity you’d never seen in him before. 

“Mattheo?” You called softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your heartbeat quickening against your bare chest. Yet, it was enough to break his attention.

His eyes naturally met yours once again, vulnerability flickering in his gaze, though the rest of his expression remained unreadable, like a contrast to the hunger simmering beneath. But Mattheo didn't step back. Instead, his calloused fingers brushed against the blood on your wrist, smearing it slightly. The contact sent a jolt through you, and for a moment, neither of you remembered how to breathe.

“Mattheo…” you called out again, but this time it was almost a plea for him not to stop. He obeyed your unspoken request, his fingers tracing your skin as if exploring new territory, so gently that it almost made you forget the lingering sting in your hand. 

Mattheo’s hands moved deliberately, spreading the blood from the deep cut on your hand. He seemed oblivious to the matching wound on his own skin as he dragged the crimson trail up to your neck, smearing it across your skin. Without warning, his lips pressed against the spot, his tongue tracing the blood. He let out a low groan at the taste, and you couldn’t suppress your own when you felt the warmth of his tongue against you. 

“It’s so sweet,” he murmured, his teeth grazing the skin of your neck, the crimson of your blood staining them as he pulled you closer, pressing you against him in a way that felt almost inhuman. “So fucking sweet.” His teeth continued to drag along your skin, while his hand slid down your arm, seeking more of your blood. His fingers tightened around your palm, squeezing to draw out more of the liquid, making you groan in a mix of pain and pleasure as the burn surged through you. 

“Shhh, it’s okay, sweetheart,” Mattheo whispered, biting your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin painfully. He didn’t care about the grunt of pain that escaped your lips, not when more blood joined the one already staining your throat. Right after his first bite, you moaned, your thighs rubbing together in an attempt to ease the wetness in your cunt. 

Mattheo chuckled in satisfaction, bringing his bloodied hand to your stomach, the crimson spreading across your exposed skin like a mark. “You like it, don’t you?” he murmured against your throat, pressing his lips to the marks he had left with his teeth. But when he noticed you hadn’t answered, he bit your neck harder than before and squeezed your stomach, causing more blood to spread across the area. 

You swallowed hard, locking eyes with him as you tried to form a sentence, but the only words that escaped your lips were a barely audible, “Yes, fucking yes,” which only made him laugh harder. He tightened his grip on your skin, sending a sharp sting through your own body. 

“Of course you do… such a fucking slut,” Mattheo chuckled again against your throat, his teeth sinking into the spot once more, making you moan. He mimicked the sound, feeling his pants tighten around his cock as he tasted your blood again on his teeth. His tongue throbbed with desire, savoring the metallic taste. Holy shit, he could cum just from the taste of your blood. “But you taste so damn good.” 

He seemed to have completely forgotten the ritual, and you, too, had let it slip away. You didn’t want to remember, not when his blood stained your skin, not when your own blood marked him, and not when his mark lingered on you. 

Mattheo pulled back slightly, looking at your state and the way your plush lips were parted as you stared at him, your eyes filled with the same desire he showed. 

Without warning, Mattheo grabbed your cut hand with the one resting on your stomach, his blood mingling with yours as he guided your hand to your neck, then down to your breasts, trailing the blood like a map. Before you could react to the sting of your hard nipple pressing against the cut, Mattheo moved faster, pulling your nipple—now smeared with your own blood—into his mouth. 

You let out a loud moan as you felt his tongue teasing the tips of your bloodied breasts, the taste of your blood on his tongue making him swirl around your breast more eagerly. The sensation only made him harder beneath his robes, each moan of his growing louder as he savored the taste of you. 

You were lost in the pleasure of his mouth, concentrated with the way his tongue lapped like a hungry animal. The way his hands pushed your now bloody breasts together enough for his head to dive between them as he continued to whisper praises, words of hunger. You didn’t hear nothing but the sounds of his mouth nor saw how he desperately reached for release, your body causing him to react out of character.

“Fuck...” he murmured, his hand releasing the softness of your skin as he reached down towards his pants. Fast, uncoordinated, he released his cock from the restraints, his bloody hands wrapping around his cock that dripped with precum. His movements grew faster, driven by the growing intensity of the taste of blood on his tongue.

You looked down, catching a glimpse through the small crease of his neck as he dragged his palm over his hard cock while sucking on your nipples. You couldn’t help but moan louder, your bloody hand gripping his shoulders as you tried to ignore how your body was responding—the wetness between your legs that you knew he could feel. 

“Your tits…”Mattheo moaned even louder, dragging a moan from your lips in response. Fuck, he was so close.

“Fuck, your blood tastes so fucking good.” He moaned louder, and as he sucked harder on your nipples, his mouth closing around the bud tighter. Your chest was now covered in his bites, the marks of Mattheo Riddle, almost like a sign of ownership. Your body quivered against his hold, rubbing pathetically against him as you felt the tingle flutter in your stomach. You were close, lost in the daze, you had no idea whether it was from pleasure or the lost of blood—or both. You were desperately clinging to his shoulders, his name falling from your lips like a spell.

The hold on his length tightened in his hand, and he came instantly. Another hoarse moan escaped his throat, and he pulled away from your chest for a moment, gasping for air. You gripped onto his shoulders once more, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. So sudden, so quick you fell against his hold as your body convulsed with pleasure.

Mattheo leaned against you, allowing himself a moment to relax. But when he noticed the blood still running down your throat from where he had placed your hand, he couldn’t help but let out a growl. He yanked your hair back harshly, making you gasp and exposing your throat, your scream barely escaping as he did so. 

“Mattheo…!” You tried to speak, but he didn’t care; he never did. He only pushed you further against him, your nipples pressed against his bare chest as he licked your throat, letting out another groan as he tasted the metallic flavor again. His tongue traced the line of your throat, dragging the blood up to your chin, before he licked it off obscenely, making you sigh at the sensation. 

Mattheo’s hand in your hair tightened, and in one swift motion, he turned you onto your back, pulling your hair even harder as your back arched against him. “Open your mouth,” he commanded, an order you immediately understood. You obeyed without hesitation, and before you could react, he spat into your mouth and thrust his tongue inside, kissing you deeply.

The kiss was rough and erotic, the fire burning from the inside making it impossible to avoid it. You could taste your own blood on his tongue, and it only made your cunt wetter, the intensity overwhelming. It was too much—more than you’d ever imagined.

You had pictured moments like this, where you and Mattheo would kiss, tasting each other’s tongues, but this was different. It wasn’t the fantasy you had dreamed of; it was raw, wild, and rougher than anything you could have ever anticipated. His teeth clashed with yours, and your tongue tangled with his, as he unleashed his most primal side. He was giving you a taste of the part of you he had consumed, and you were trapped, just as you always would be.

You didn’t care about the pain in your scalp, only the hand that held you.

Mattheo’s hands were rough, touching everything he could. His mouth marking you over and over as he swallowed every small noise you released. He was warm, too warm, a sting feeling in your mouth as he sucked and bit into your lips, the softness of your skin tethering as his mouth was once again filled with the sweetness of your blood.

He was about to lose his mind.

Mattheo sighed against your now split lip, “Stop me… Tell me to stop, and I will.” He wouldn’t; you both knew it.

You held him against you tighter; you were already too deep into him—all you wanted was to devour him, mark him enough to show everyone he belonged to you, only you. You wanted to inflict a pain he would never forget, a pain similar to the pain he caused you, so you did. Your hands wrapped around his neck, your mouth tracing his lips, then his cheeks, then suddenly the warmth of his neck. Mattheo gripped you hard; he made no sudden movement, anxiously awaiting your motive. You bit into his neck, sucking the flushed skin as your teeth marked him with the same strength he did to you. 

Another soft flow came into your mouth, you gasped, the metallic taste odd in your mouth but enough to send your heart thundering.

Mattheo whimpered, his dominant facade slipping as he sickly enjoyed the way you took control. You were so sweet, so delicate—you were completely the opposite. The idea he corrupted you twisted a sick, powerful thought in his brain. You were his. 

Your tongue reached towards his mouth again, finding yourself eye to eye with the man you wanted nothing more than to control. “Don’t ever stop; I need you.”

Mattheo grinned, his lips bloody, his brown eyes becoming dark as he suddenly pushed you towards the runes that glowed against your body. The symbols glowed, vibrating with the blood that dripped onto it. As he stood over you, he wished to capture the moment forever. You looked so fucking pretty.

He leaned over, his knees staining with the blood smeared against the cold tiles. His fingers moved quickly, desperately. He watched as your body spoke to him, reacting to every touch. Your breasts covered in his marks, his blood and yours on them that caused his cock to twitch violently.

He wanted more than the taste of your breasts; he wanted to taste the juices that gathered in the silk of your panties. He wanted to feel the way your cunt twitched and throbbed against his mouth, and damn, did he want nothing more than to have you fuck yourself on his tongue. The sweetest angel from Hogwarts all displayed for him, to hell with the ritual; now he just wanted to swallow you whole. 

Without warning, he hoisted your legs onto his shoulders with an almost violent urgency, a deep moan escaping his lips as he leaned closer to your wet pussy. The intoxicating scent filled his senses, making his bloodied hand tighten around your thigh, gripping it as if commanding you to choke him; a command you had no intention of disobeying.

Mattheo looked at your face, the dried blood around your parted lips, your cheeks flushed from everything he was doing to you, and your dilated pupils watching him anxiously. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, and you instantly bit your lip. Fuck, he was about to get hard again. 

“Please, I need you, Mattheo,” you begged, rubbing your hips desperately, trying to get closer to his flushed face. You needed his mouth, and he was more than willing to be a good friend and give you exactly what you wanted. 

“No need to beg like a slut, sweetheart,” he said, moving closer to your pulsing cunt, the light from the dunes making your wetness glisten even more. You held your breath as his warm breath ghosted over your slick folds. “I’m eager to give you what you want,” he murmured, leaning even closer, his nose brushing against your arousal as he took in your scent. Just as you were about to beg him to do something, his tongue was quicker—teasing, tasting, and finally giving in to the need to lick you.

Mattheo followed his instincts and hunger, his palms gripping your thighs even tighter, leaving bloodstained marks on your skin just as he had on the rest of your body. The sting of his own cut burned with the pressure, but he didn’t stop, sliding his hands to your hips as his tongue moved swiftly against your folds, savoring and memorizing every inch of you.

You could feel Mattheo’s cheeks pressed against your thighs as he buried himself in your pussy, suffocating himself in your scent and taste. He mentally begged some higher power to let him one day die like this—only after his hunger was completely satisfied. Your back arched, heat swirling in your stomach as Mattheo licked your pussy with reckless desperation.

He was ravenous, savoring every part of you, and when your nails dug into his scalp, he let out another growl, pushing himself even deeper between your legs, making you moan even louder.

“Fucking yes, sweetheart,” he murmured against your pussy, sucking harder as your cries of pleasure filled the room. “Keep moaning like a slut, keep saying my name.” He bit down on your flesh, making you moan even louder, your legs trembling around him. He chuckled darkly, the vibrations of his laughter sending shocks through your body and making you cry out even more.

Fuck the ritual, fuck the power—the only power he craved was the power he held over you.

“Mattheo,” you moaned even louder, rocking your hips against his face as your fingers tangled in his hair, pushing him closer. “Right there, oh my—!” you cried out, feeling him lose himself between your legs, consumed by his thoughts and the blood still staining his lips.

Mattheo’s fast, steady movements continued, his almost feral tongue lapping at your cunt as his hands roamed your body. He could feel his cock harden at the sound of your sweet moans. Fuck, the taste of your blood mingled with your arousal was divine—almost too much for him to bear. 

He continued kissing your clit, desperate to savor your full taste, his tongue messily exploring your folds, drinking in every drop he could. All you felt in the moment was him. The sounds muffled as if underwater. Your fingers dug into his scalp, causing him to flick his tongue against your bud faster, his fingers circling it, his grin plastered with pride as he heard you cry loudly.

“Such a pretty one you are,” he muttered, his words slurring into the juices of your cunt.

You only released a jumble of words, your bare back arching as you squirmed beneath him. You were on the edge, and you could feel it—both of you could. The anticipation was electric, and you were both eager for the release. All he wanted was to make you cum.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured against your folds, the scent of your cunt making him dizzy. “Come for me.” No sooner had the words left his mouth than you let out a final scream, the orgasm hitting you hard as your body arched, feeling your cum dripping from your pussy.

Mattheo groaned against your cunt once more, lapping at your release as he lost himself in your flavor. Quickly, he grabbed your cut hand, spreading its blood over your pussy to mix with the cum. When he felt it was enough, he ran his tongue over your folds, savoring the metallic taste of blood combined with the sweet remnants of your orgasm, only stopping when not a drop remained, and you pushed him away.

The runes still flickered on the ground, glowing brighter with the smell of your release in the air. Blood stained both your bodies, marking each other, marking the new connection between you that neither of you wanted to escape. Mattheo stood there, watching you, his brown eyes observing, shining with pride watching your state. His eyes traced the blood on your skin, lingering on the cut on your hand, before meeting your eyes again. 

“We didn’t finish the ritual,” you managed to say, your voice soft, timid once again compared to the wildness you held as you let Mattheo control you, your body still shaking from one of the best orgasms you ever experienced.

Mattheo’s smirk grew, just a little as he continued to look at the mess he had done. “It’s fine, sweetheart. We can always try again.”

He was right; after all, friends helped each other.

© 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚝₂₀₂₄ — 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎.

— please be nice, it’s 4 am it probably has some mistakes!

likes and reblogs are appreciated 🫶🏻

also a big thank you for my favorite beta readers @earth4angels & @astrxq , without them i couldn’t write all this!! i love you both off you forever

venting: sometimes, i hate english because my hard lines in portuguese don’t make sense and seem so repetitive :(

[luvleyshif4]

rafe x reader.... she's touchstarved. Maybe size/height difference. Just the wonderful feeling of him being the protector (and 'provider'). They've only been dating for a little while but he figures out that her love language is physical touch. And she's so surprised bc she isn't used to receiving love. Prob a bad family setting... thanks, love <33

JUST HOLD ME

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mention of family issues, emotional vulnerability, emotional repression, medium angst turned into fluff, reader is touch starved, implied toxic family dynamics, reader might have body dysmorphia (N/A).

Word count: 1.22k words

Authors note: heyy bb!! Tysmmm for requesting this!!! I already had something like that sitting in my drafts so I thought I’d just add some changes to suit your idea🤞🏽🤞🏽🤞🏽honestly your idea made it sooo soo much better!! HOPE YOU LIKE IT CAUSE I KNOW I DO💗💗 (also I didn’t proof read this so let me know if there’s any grammar mistakes😝😝)

The night was quiet, the kind of stillness that felt heavy yet comforting. Rafe’s truck hummed softly beneath you, the glow of the dashboard lights casting faint shadows across his face.

He had picked you up an hour ago, like he always did when your texts grew short and vague, as though he could sense the things you didn’t say. The roads were empty, a blur of dim streetlights and the occasional flicker of passing headlights.

You sat in the passenger seat, curled slightly toward the door, your oversized hoodie swallowing you whole. Rafe’s hand rested on the gear shift, his fingers drumming a slow rhythm as the faint hum of music played in the background.

He wasn’t saying much tonight, giving you space like he always did, but you could feel his eyes flick toward you now and then, studying you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he finally asked, his voice breaking the silence but staying soft.

You didn’t answer right away, your fingers playing with the strings of your hoodie. The truth was, you didn’t know how to talk about it—the way your chest felt tight every time you thought about home, the way your family’s sharp words had a way of cutting deeper than they should. It wasn’t new, but it felt heavier lately, like you were dragging something you couldn’t shake off.

“I’m fine,” you said, the words automatic and hollow.

Rafe glanced at you again, his jaw tightening slightly. He didn’t press, though. He never did. Instead, his hand shifted, brushing lightly against your knee before returning to the gear shift. It was such a small gesture, but it made your throat tighten. You turned your head, staring out the window, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way your hands were trembling slightly.

The silence stretched on, comfortable for him, suffocating for you. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Rafe—you did, more than you’d ever thought possible for someone you’d only been with for a few months. It was just that you didn’t know how to let someone in like this. You didn’t know how to let yourself be seen, not when you’d spent so long trying to shrink yourself down, to take up less space.

Rafe, of course, noticed everything.

He didn’t say anything at first, but you felt the shift when he slowed the truck down, pulling over to the side of the road. The engine idled softly as he put the truck in park, turning to face you fully. His brows were drawn together, his blue eyes searching yours in the dim light.

“Talk to me,” he said, his voice low but steady.

Your chest tightened again, and you shook your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s nothing,” you muttered, barely meeting his gaze. “Just a long day.”

Rafe let out a soft, disbelieving huff, leaning back slightly. He didn’t look frustrated, just… concerned. And that concern was somehow worse, more overwhelming than if he’d been annoyed.

“Come on,” he said, his tone lighter but still holding that edge of care. “You don’t get this quiet unless something’s really messing with you. I’m not going anywhere, so you might as well tell me.”

The weight of his words hit you harder than you expected. You glanced at him, your lips parting as if to say something, but the words stuck in your throat. Rafe’s gaze softened even further, and without thinking, he reached over, his hand hesitating for a moment before he grazed the back of his fingers against your cheek. The touch was featherlight, and yet it sent a shiver through you. You didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned into it, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment as if savoring the warmth.

Rafe stilled, watching you as though you were the only thing in the world that mattered. His hand lingered there, his knuckles brushing over your skin softly, reverently. “You’re allowed to let me in,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath hitched at his words, but you didn’t pull back. Instead, you let yourself lean into his hand fully, your head tilting slightly as though you didn’t want him to stop. His thumb shifted, lightly grazing your chin, and your eyes opened just in time to catch the way his gaze flicked down to your lips.

It wasn’t rushed or sudden. His movements were deliberate, careful, giving you every chance to stop him. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. When his lips finally met yours, it was soft and slow, like a promise. He kissed you with a tenderness that made your chest ache, his hand still cradling your face as though he couldn’t bear to let go.

Your body melted into his touch, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt to steady yourself. The kiss deepened slightly, but it stayed unhurried, every movement of his lips against yours making you feel like you were coming undone in the best possible way.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his thumb brushing gently over your chin. He didn’t say anything at first, just looked at you, his blue eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name but felt down to your core.

“You don’t have to tell me everything right now,” he said, his voice low and steady. “But I need you to know that you’re not alone. Not with me.”

Your chest ached at his words, and you opened your eyes, meeting his. There was no judgment there, no expectation. Just him, just Rafe, offering you something you didn’t know how to accept but desperately wanted to.

Your lips parted like you might say something, but no words came. Instead, you let out a shaky breath and leaned into him again, resting your head on his shoulder this time. His arms wrapped around you without hesitation, holding you tightly, protectively, as though shielding you from all the things you couldn’t put into words.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself be held. Safe, warm, and, for once, not alone.

[1425fivefive]

the people yearn for virginity landoscar (from the kink prompt ask)

“This is your first time, yeah?”

Oscar sort of wants to laugh. Remind Lando that they fucked last night, that Lando shoved him over the desk in their hotel room and fucked Oscar until he was coming all over the lacquered wood, his cock trapped between his stomach and the smooth surface. They’d cleaned it up after, but Oscar reckons you could probably still see a stain if you looked closely.

But Lando’s looking up at him with a breathless expression and Oscar can tell how much this turns him on. The idea of being the first one to have Oscar like this. 

Oscar wonders how much of it’s some twisted little power play on Lando’s part, a shitty attempt to erase what Oscar told him about Mark. And, like, Oscar had fucked girls before Mark. He hadn’t even been a virgin, technically, but Lando had still been pissy about it for days. Only seemed to get over it when Oscar let Lando fuck him bare for the first time.

But Mark’s been around the paddock more lately and Oscar wonders if maybe Lando needs this. Needs to feel like Oscar’s choosing him. Like whatever was going on between Mark and Oscar didn’t just end because Mark finally felt bad about fucking his twenty-two-year-old mentee while he had a wife and kids at home.

Oscar spreads his legs a bit and says, “Yeah, uh, it’s my first time.”

Lando’s eyes go desperate and dark at that, and he turns his head to the side, sucking a mark into Oscar’s thigh.

Oscar can’t hold back a moan, hips hitching toward Lando, silently begging for his fingers. Would a virgin do that? Probably not, Oscar thinks, but it doesn’t matter when Lando’s grabbing the lube and squirting some onto his hand, bringing his fingers down to rub gentle circles over Oscar’s rim.

“Fuck, Osc,” Lando murmurs, eyes dragging up Oscar’s body to land on Oscar’s face. “Feel so fucking tight.”

Oscar whimpers at that. It’s not an act, not when Lando’s telling Oscar how tight he is in this low voice Lando only uses when Lando’s out of his mind with need.

“You like hearing that?” Lando asks. He dips the tip of one finger into Oscar, just the hint of a stretch. “Like hearing how good you’ll feel around my cock?”

Oscar whines, nods.

“Gonna open you up with my fingers, yeah?” Lando asks, pressing his finger a little deeper. “Get you all nice and wet and open for my cock.”

“Fuck, Lando,” Oscar moans. “God, that’s—” He trails off as Lando pushes his finger in, immediately crooking up, dragging over Oscar’s prostate.

Oscar’s back arches off the bed, fingers scrabbling at the sheets.

Lando grins. “That’s the spot, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Oscar pants, grinding back against Lando’s fingers. “Yeah, I—fuck.”

“Anyone ever touched you here?” Lando asks idly, like he’s not fingering Oscar open, driving Oscar out of his mind with need. “Reckon you had no idea how much you like being touched like this.”

Oscar whimpers and shakes his head, frantic. It almost feels like the truth.

Oscar’s always liked having his ass played with but it feels like no one’s ever touched him there before. Everything feels so incredibly heightened, like maybe his body’s convinced itself that this really is his first time. That his first time wasn’t at Mark’s shitty rented flat in Monaco.

This would’ve been better, Oscar thinks. With the way Lando always pays such close attention to him, to how his body’s reacting, to whether something feels good. Oscar can’t help but think that would’ve been nice. Nicer at least than whatever the fuck Mark did. Pressed Oscar down onto the bed and told him to relax in that gruff voice of his that doesn’t leave any room for argument.

“Gonna give you another,” Lando murmurs. He bends down to press a kiss to Oscar’s stomach and adds, “Okay?”

Oscar’s not sure why he feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. But he nods, whimpering at the feeling of Lando pushing another finger into him.

“Good, Osc,” Lando says softly, starting to fuck his fingers in and out of Oscar, still gentle, so fucking gentle.

When Lando presses a third finger to Oscar’s rim, Oscar must make some noise of discomfort because Lando retreats immediately, pressing a soft kiss to Oscar’s stomach. He ducks his head down and licks over the head of Oscar’s cock, grinning when Oscar lets out a shocked moan.

“Fuck, baby,” Lando breathes, staring up at Oscar with something that looks like awe. “Has anyone ever sucked your cock before?”

Oscar whimpers, shakes his head. It doesn’t feel like a lie.

“Fucking hell,” Lando says, letting out a delirious laugh. “I get to be the first to taste you?”

“Yeah,” Oscar whines, voice high and choked. “Wanted you to be my first.”

“Jesus, I—” Lando doesn’t finish his sentence, just leans down and suck Oscar cock into his mouth, moaning around Oscar’s cock.

Oscar keens, head thrashing to the side, hand flying down to Lando’s curls, desperate to ground himself. But Lando knows exactly how to suck Oscar’s cock, knows that wrapping a loose fist around the base and sliding it in sync with his mouth will have Oscar right on the edge in no time at all. Lando’s showy about it, flashing his eyes up to Oscar’s, grinning around Oscar’s cock, dragging his pink tongue up the length and suckling at the head. It makes Oscar feel insane, makes Oscar worry he might come before Lando even gets his cock in him.

Oscar’s so caught up in it that he almost doesn’t notice Lando pressing a third finger into him, only figures it out when his rim tries to tighten and can’t, stretched too wide around Lando’s thick fingers.

Lando seems to notice Oscar’s rim fluttering uselessly because he pulls off Oscar’s cock with a groan, staring down at where his fingers are disappearing into Oscar.

“God,” Lando moans, fucking his fingers into Oscar, watching Oscar’s rim stretch.

Oscar flushes under the attention, humiliated and turned on by the idea of Lando staring at him there.

“Don’t,” Oscar pleads, thighs trying to close, stopped by Lando’s body between them.

“Why?” Lando asks, still watching his fingers fuck into Oscar, fingers hitting Oscar’s prostate each time. “You’re so pretty down here.”

Oscar lets out a strangled noise, toes curling, fingers tightening on the sheets, body drawing tight tight tight. He doesn’t realize he’s going to come before it’s already happening, his orgasm spilling out of him like he’s letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He’s letting out these awful, shuddering moans, staring down at his cock with a shocked expression as he keeps spurting across his stomach.

Lando lets out a desperate noise but he works Oscar through it, keeps his fingers pressed against Oscar’s prostate, thrusting steadily as Oscar keeps coming.

As Oscar finally stops coming, he slumps against the bed, thighs splaying open, chest heaving.

“Jesus,” Lando breathes, fingers still buried inside Oscar.

Oscar can’t look at him, suddenly, horribly humiliated by how easily he came. He tosses his arms over his eyes, inhaling a shaky breath.

But he feels something wet dragging over his stomach and he has to lift his arms up, looking down to find Lando licking over his stomach, lapping up his come.

“Fuck, Lando,” Oscar breathes. “You don’t—m’sorry.”

Lando pulls off, frowning. “Why’re you sorry?”

“Just like—for coming so early,” Oscar says, flushing at having to say it out loud.

Lando snorts. “All good.” He presses another kiss to Oscar’s stomach, before propping his chin there, smirking up at Oscar. “Guess you really are a virgin.”

Oscar wants to be annoyed but all he can do is let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head.

“Plus, like, we’re young,” Lando says with a shrug. “Reckon you can go again. Still need to, like, officially deflower you and all.”

Oscar’s about to say something, but Lando’s shuffling back down to lick over Oscar’s softening cock, eyes crinkling when Oscar lets out a high, desperate whimper.

[rosemariiaa]

00 ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ

𐙚—pairing: Paige x Azzi

𐙚—rosie’s note: merry xmas my lovelies, this is my gift to you! happy reading lovelies 💌

𐙚—links: rosie’s bookshelf, rewind my heart masterlist

𐙚—themes: time travel, angst (kinda)

𐙚— taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @juspeaks @sierrale8ne @bueckersbitch @pboogerswbb @lupinqs @makethemhoesmad @imaginespazzi @d3arapril @guesswhoitsn @xxloveralways14 @ashortyluvsports

enjoy!!!

The apartment is too quiet without her.

It’s been hours since Azzi left, her pink bonnet stuffed into her purse, the overnight bag she’d packed slung over her shoulder. She didn’t look back when she closed the door behind her, and Paige didn’t stop her.

Not this time.

Paige leans against the kitchen counter, staring blankly at the half-empty bottle of water in her hand. The sun is setting, painting the skyline outside her window in muted oranges and purples, but she barely notices. The air in the apartment feels heavy, suffocating in its silence.

Her knee aches from today’s workout—a reminder of the game she has in two days. She should be focused on that, but her mind is miles away.

Back to Azzi. Back to their argument.

The fight wasn’t about anything major. None of them ever were. But it was loud. Ugly. The kind of argument that feels like it’s about everything and nothing all at once.

“You don’t even try anymore, Paige!” Azzi’s voice had cracked with frustration, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “You’re so scared of—of whatever this is that you’re ruining it before it can even work.”

“And you’re not?” Paige had snapped back, her voice sharp and cutting. “You’re the one with one foot out the door every time things get hard.”

Azzi had gone quiet then, her lips pressing into a thin line. It was the kind of silence that made Paige want to take it all back, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

Instead, Azzi had turned on her heel, grabbed her things, and left.

That was three hours ago.

Paige swallows hard, setting the water bottle down on the counter. Her phone buzzes on the island, but she doesn’t check it. It’s probably her coach or a teammate, someone reminding her of the life she’s supposed to be living.

But all Paige can think about is the pink bonnet Azzi left behind. The one she’s worn every night since they were 19 and sharing cramped student apartments in Connecticut.

How did it get to this? How did they go from late-night talks in Paige’s dorm room to this endless cycle of arguing and leaving?

Paige sighs, running a hand through her hair as she drags herself toward the bedroom. Maybe Azzi just needs time to cool off. Maybe this is one of those fights they’ll laugh about later, the way they always used to.

She doesn’t even bother turning on the lights as she collapses onto the bed, burying her face in the purple blanket Azzi gave her their first Christmas together.

It still smells like her.

Paige closes her eyes, exhaustion pulling her under.

—

When I wake up, something feels… wrong.

It’s the light that hits my face first, warm and bright and all wrong for my LA apartment. Then it’s the smell—not Azzi’s perfume or the lavender candle that I keep on the dresser, but something familiar and distant.

My eyes blink open, and for a moment, I can’t seem to breathe.

This can’t be happening.

I blink again, but nothing changes. I stare at the spinning bookshelf, the neatly stacked trophies, the PS5 humming quietly on the dresser—it’s all there. The TV mounted on the wall shows the home screen I haven’t seen in years. My purple sheets are a little wrinkled, the fluffy blanket half spilling onto the floor, but it still smells like fabric softener and familiarity.

My eyes catch on the vanity across the room, where Azzi’s pink bonnet and my Bible sit side by side. My heart clenches. She always left them there.

My fingers dig into the mattress as I sit up, my knee protesting the sudden movement. This isn’t my apartment in Los Angeles. This isn’t my life now. This is… this is my senior-year room at UConn.

The student apartment. The one I shared with Azzi, Nika, Jana, and Ice.

I force myself to stand, even as my chest feels like it’s caving in. The layout of the room is burned into my memory, down to the picture frame sitting on Azzi’s side of the vanity. The photo is of the two of us, taken back when things between us were still too undefined to explain.

The blanket she likes to steal is still folded at the foot of my bed. Her favorite UConn hoodie is draped over my beanbag. A pair of her sneakers sits in the corner, her name written in small letters on the tongue.

Her stuff is scattered everywhere, like it always was, because we spent most nights sleeping in my room instead of hers.

I look around, desperate for an answer. For anything that will tell me this isn’t real.

But it is.

It’s all exactly as I left it in 2025. My senior year.

The year I ruined everything.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I grab it like it might give me an explanation.

October 12, 2024.

I nearly drop it. My hands are shaking as I swipe to my texts.

azzi: workout in 20 paigey, be ready when i get there

nika: tell Ice if she clogs the sink again with her hair, I’m moving out.

My breath catches in my throat. I read the texts again, trying to make sense of it, but they feel too familiar. Too real. My hands drop to my sides as the phone slips from my grasp.

This doesn’t make sense.

I glance toward Azzi’s bed. I was always glad my room was the only one with a spare bed, her bed was perfectly made like always. Her per led lights cast a soft glow over the walls, and the scent of her body lotion lingers in the air.

Memories rush back like a punch to the gut. The year we tried to be “just friends.” The year we failed. The year I let fear ruin everything we had.

I drag myself into the kitchen, needing space to think. The student apartment is quiet, but it feels like a time capsule. Jana’s mismatched sneakers are by the door. Nika’s pink Hydro Flask sits on the counter. Ice’s protein shake blender is still sitting in the sink.

Everything is exactly as it was.

But why? Why now? Why this year?

I stare out the window, the view of campus just as I remember. The ache in my knee pulls me back to reality. I know this feeling. I know this time.

I press my hands against the counter, gripping it tightly as the realization sinks in.

I’m back. Back in my senior year. Back in the year Azzi and I were finally supposed to get it right.

And I have no idea why.

My phone buzzes again on the counter.

azzi: coffee or no? answer my texts don’t be weird

Her name on my screen feels like a lifeline and a weight all at once.

This was the year it all fell apart.

But maybe, just maybe, it’s also the year I can put it back together.

———

𐙚— rosie’s note: okay psa, the chapters for this series should take too long to post, as i mentioned before i really do like this plot and it’s good for me to work with so you should’ve have to wait too long :) also hope u enjoyed muah!

[quarterlifekitty]

Moth girl getting into that state with nesting, being tired, her belly hurts and she's just acting off.

König already knows it's the time of the year when she lays eggs. But some time passed, and she still didn't get better. Still didn't come out of the pillow nest.

When he's checking up on her, her belly is round and swollen, but the eggs are not coming out..

König having to help her out. Carefully pressing down on her belly, rubbing her little pussy to stimulate her and trick into finally letting the eggs go.

(I made that up, it lives in my head rent free.)

cw: egg laying stuff, overstim

König’s heart aches when he looks down at you, squirming and sluggish all at once, the distention of your belly obvious. His precious mottechen, so uncomfortable and full.

The only struggle he experienced was internal as he pulled you from your nest of blankets and pillows, your usual pips and chirps replaced exhausted whines.

He’d been warned that this could happen. That sometimes hybrids have trouble expressing, especially if the eggs are unfertilized.

He’d gotten you into bed, your back to his stomach with your legs spread and ankles hooked over his thighs.

One of König’s massive hands is splayed over your abdomen, cupped to create a bit more pressure from his gathered fingertips as he rubs ellipses over you.

Your hands grip weakly at his forearm as he tries to stimulate you. You look up at him with barely formed tears gathering at your waterline from how long and tiring this process has been, keeping you exhausted and restless at once.

“Ich werde es besser machen, liebling, I promise,” he coos, shifting his legs to spread you a little better. It feels… a bit wrong to be touching you this way when you’re not well. Like he’s taking advantage, even though he knows it’s the least invasive way to help you. It doesn’t help that you can definitely feel him hard against your back.

His touches start feather-light on your clit, flicking and rubbing to try to spur your inner muscles into making the necessary contractions. His petting and stroking gets heavier, until your hips are twitching and your eyes clench shut with the strain as you pass the first egg in your clutch.

König lets out a breath he’d had no idea he was holding as the cream colored egg slips onto the towel beneath you. It’s a little bigger than the ones in your last clutch had been, which is probably what caused the issue, if he had to guess. His poor little siedenmotte.

The ones after the first come much easier, thank god. He wasn’t sure he could handle seeing your face twisted in pain much more than he already had.

He grinds his teeth, sick with guilt when you thrash against him with what must be the last of your strength— your legs twitching as you try to free yourself from his hold, from the overstimulation. But he has to make sure you’re not holding onto anything, so he keeps you pinned, pressing down on your belly while two of his fingers find a home inside of your sore cunt. He makes you cum, finally, and heaves a sigh of relief when you don’t produce anything more.

Your eggs, which he typically finds laid in an array with almost mathematical precision, sit in a sticky pile on the towel. Not quite as many as usual, but noticeably more girthy, not as uniform either. He hoped it didn’t mean you were sick.

He puts the towel off to the side to be dealt with later, focusing on untangling your legs. He lays with you on his chest, and he starts to hum an old song he remembers from his childhood so you can feel the rumble in his chest. He doesn’t have the deepest voice, but it seems to do well enough for you, relaxing you enough to let your eyes close.

When he feels you’re recovered enough that he feels he can leave you alone to rest, he’ll dig out a flashlight from his dresser to shine through each of your eggs, just like always, just to make sure there’s nothing in them before they’re returned to you.

Hopefully you’d be back to your usual self tomorrow. He isn’t sure how much more of this his heart can take.

[thedemises]

——— COLD HANDS。 ★ sunday.

note; I don't think I wrote my boy sunday good enough to the canon..... anyways I took inspiration from the fact that my hands r always cold so why not 😈 (I totally didn't take a week to finish this hahahahah this turned out a lot longer than I expected,,,, over 2k.... 😦)

tagging; @aventurineswife :3

you could've barely noticed it at first, but the tips of your fingers were slowly growing numb as time passes, likely due to the cold humidity in the room. however, you hardly care, letting yourself sink into the serene stillness in the party car of the astral express.

it had always been a normal occurrence for your hands to feel much colder than anyone else's, and it was a bother at times when you would unintentionally graze your own hand against a part of your body — however, you managed to find a small advantage in it; often pressing your icy fingers against your friends' necks as a small, playful prank.

you can remember the priceless expressions on your fellow express members' faces whenever you pull such an act on them without their awareness and the thought of it barely makes you chuckle to yourself on any occasion. heh, the corner of your lips quirk up into a sly smirk without your intentions.

though you wouldn't recommend doing that to the conductor of the train...

pointer fingers lightly tap on each other with hands clasped together, you stay seated with legs crossed as your eyes occasionally scan the room carefully for a potential candidate to interact with. member or guest, you just want to talk to pass the time. (shush isn't really fun to converse with, in your opinion; other than those jokes, he's a gentleman but not quite interesting enough in your eyes. though you're curious about shush's creator; the one who made the mixologist).

the top of your shoe taps against the polished floor, in a steady rhythm made up by your mind — or coming from a song you had in your mind for a while now — while you eventually spot your victim possible conversationist.

a young man standing at the farthest corner of the cart, in a bicolored tailcoat and small wings behind his ears which are of similar tone to his muted blue hair as a golden halo floats behind the head. they flap and twitch from time to time and he is merely unbothered by the silence in the area (besides the sound of glass cups clinking from shush cleaning them and that lady in a purple veil looking over some tarot cards floating in her hands), the halovian simply stares about at the space outside the cabin with a sort of... longing look in his eyes.

...

ah, sunday — former head of the oak family and older brother of the interastral famous idol; robin. honestly; you weren't really involved in the whole penacony catastrophe since you, alongside dan heng, decided to stay behind in the express until you made the decision to go and went along with the archivist (and a certain galaxy ranger who was practically hijacking the parlor car, and with a gun pointed at the reserved train guardian no less) and then assisting the others in taking down that damned giant mechanical monstrosity and that damned giant mechanical monstrosity's sea angel-looking things.

and now with that event taken care of and calming down, it's a bit of a surprise when the guy who tried to basically kill the other astral express members aboards the same train that railed him over a couple times and is now trying to redeem himself from the goal where he tried to turn everyone's dream into a complacent bliss by taking everyone's free will & future in the process.

instead of the one who (though, unintentionally) almost ascended to aeonhood, sunday is reduced to a mere passenger on the express train you too aboard on. what a life turning of events.

and with the idea of spooking him as well settles at the top of your mind.

the mischievous thought solidifies, and your eyes gleam with a subtle spark of excitement. sunday seems like the perfect target — a mix of composed and distant, a far cry from the usual express members who might anticipate your pranks by now; considering how long it has been since you've been a member.

your cold fingers itch with anticipation, the chill now feels like an asset rather than a hindrance — and it feels like the oh-so perfect moment to do so.

you rise from your seat slowly, careful not to make a sound that would alert him to your approach, as your steps are light, muffled by the carpeted floor of the party car. the young halovian seems deeply engrossed in the view beyond the window, the distant in his gaze making you almost reconsider — just for half a second. however, the faint smirk creeping up onto your lips reminds you of your current goal.

and who are you to shy away so quickly from an itching opportunity to fill your satisfaction?

as you inch closer behind with the quietest of steps, his ear wings twitch slightly, making you pause your movements. they’re... quite delicate up close than you realized, the translucent blue edges of each pale feather shimmering faintly and you were almost distracted by them. almost.

why yes, you were curious about his halovian features but now's not the time to ponder, you...

with deft fingers, you gently brush aside a curtain of his muted blue hair, exposing the nape of his neck. it's quite warmer than you expected — soft, almost inviting — and, while at the back of your mind you were a bit baffled how sunday barely even noticed what you were doing, it takes every ounce of self-control not to giggle at the thought of what’s about to happen.

“ah, what’s the point of hesitation now?” you mutter under your breath before plunging your frozen-like fingers onto the bare skin of his neck—

—the reaction you got was instantaneous. sunday’s breath hitches audibly and a low, startled gasp escapes his lips as his entire body jolts from the sudden, icy shock at the nape of his neck; his posture was rigid as if struck by lightning as his ear wings snap open instinctively, flaring out like a startled bird's — the sharp motion sends a soft, fleeting breeze through the air, ruffling your hair slightly.

“by the stars—!” he gasps, eyes wide and glimmering like fractured glass as a hand flies up to cover the assaulted area as if to guard it from another ambush from your shenanigans. his intriguing golden halo hovering behind his head wavers slightly, tilting as though reflecting his momentary loss of composure, and his cheeks flushed a light peachy red from the heat of surprise.

the young man spins around after a small beat of silence with a sharp intake of breath, his expression a mix of shock and confusion, the serene mask he wore moments ago completely shattered.

your hands had already retracted when sunday covered the back of his own neck, and you can't help the laughter that spills out of you; unrestrained and shameless.

“wo—ow!” you manage between bouts of mirth, a hand barely covers your mouth to partially drown out half the noise you were making within the usually quiet cart. “that... that was... absolutely priceless, sunday...!” your voice wavers and slightly cracks at the end of your sentence, still carried by the remnants of your laughter; the amusement from the entire situation clearly written all over your face.

for a moment, he just stares at you, caught between the bewilderment and indignation of your little prank... then, his brows knit together in a way that’s almost endearing, and his lips press into a tight line. “what… was that for?” his careful voice carries the faintest tremor, as though he’s still recovering from the shock of the chill.

eventually, you've recovered from your little laughing fit enough to answer sunday properly this time, as a hand of yours reached up to wipe off a small tear from your eyes. “oh, come on,” you lightly tease, leaning against a nearby chair with a smug grin. “you were just.. idly standing over there, looking all broody and mysterious; I couldn’t resist.”

sunday exhales sharply, visibly trying to collect himself. his wings fold back into place with a soft rustle, and his hand lingers protectively over his neck before letting it hang by his side.

“I was merely... thinking.”

“hm? about what?” asked you while tilting your head.

the halovian hesitates as the faint blush lingering on his cheeks gradually fades, leaving his complexion noticeably paler. “nothing that concerns you.”

“huh, is that so?” you drawl, tapping your chin as if in deep thought. “perhaps I have just found a new mystery to solve — cracking sunday’s enigmatic shell.”

“i— don’t even think about it,” he mutters, though there’s a flicker of something in his tone — a hint of amusement, perhaps? the left wing behind his ear twitches subtly before steadying behind him, but the slight folding of both ear wings toward his face betrays his embarrassment.

amused by his actions, you chuckle to yourself again and fold your arms over your chest. “you’ll have to lighten up eventually, y’know sunny. can’t stay all reserved and quiet forever.”

“don't—” sunday abruptly stops himself, then he sighs in exasperation of your antics. “you’re insufferable. but please refrain from calling me that in the future.”

“and you’re fun to mess with.” you flash him a cheeky smirk, already contemplating your next move. after all, what’s life aboard the astral express without a little bit of mischief?

“also, why not? but, however, if that's what you want...”

as sunday just turns away to the side just a bit, you straighten up your posture, still all smiley and smirking whatnot. you can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment; breaking through the usually quiet halovian's composure felt like a minor victory in itself. the quiet hum of the astral express fills the air again as the moment between you fades into the serene stillness of the party car.

still, something about the faint blush lingering on sunday’s cheeks keeps tugging at your thoughts. veneath the cool exterior and formal demeanor lies a person who, much like everyone else aboard this train, carries their own scars and stories. you might be good at teasing and poking a bit here and there, but you’re not oblivious to the weight he seems to bear — especially with what happened in the recent events.

the mood shifts slightly as you observe him quietly — he has resumed gazing out the window, though his expression is much softer now, his wings no longer bristling but relaxed. the golden halo behind him stabilizes, the light coming from the lights inside the party cart casting a faint glow that makes him look almost ethereal.

“you know,” you say, breaking the silence. sunday still gazes into the galaxy beyond the window but he secretly listens to whatever you're about to say. “I’m not always about pranks — however, if you ever feel like talking about whatever’s on your mind, I can lend you an ear too.”

the young man turns his head toward you, his brows raise up a little in mild surprise. for a moment, he seems to study you, as if trying to gauge your sincerity — finally, he exhales, and a small, almost imperceptible smile touches his lips.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

the response is brief but carries a surprising warmth that wasn’t there before. you nod in response, satisfied, and let the quietness stretch out again. maybe there’s more to sunday than meets the eye, and perhaps, in time, he’ll let you see a little more of what lies beneath his enigmatic exterior in the near future of trailblazing expeditions.

the sliding doors to the party car slide open suddenly, and ever-so bubbly march 7th bounces in as her ever-cheerful energy fills the space of the previous serene atmosphere. “hey! what’s going on in here? did I miss something fun?”

you almost can’t resist glancing at sunday with a small mischievous glint in your eye, the latter in question softly groans and shakes his head to himself.

“oh, really nothing much. I was merely giving our newest passenger a warm welcome.”

the bubblegum-haired girl glances between the two of you, a bit curious what the two of you were doing a bit earlier. “huh.. really though? because it looks like you were up to no good again.”

“awh— wait, me? never,” you tilt your head slightly as your voice takes on an exaggerated tone of mock-innocence. behind you, sunday exhales sharply and his eyes narrow as he pinches the bridge of his nose. march 7th crosses her arms, arching a brow before both of them briefly exchange a shared look — one that speaks volumes about their exasperation.

as the conversation shifts to lighter topics, the laughter and camaraderie in the room slowly build, filling the once-quiet space with warmth and life. even the young halovian seems to ease into the dynamic, his reserved nature softening just a bit as he listens to the banter around him.

in this moment, you realize that life aboard the astral express isn’t just about the journeys or the destinations — it’s about the people you share them with, the stories you create, and the bonds you forge along the way.

and as the stars continue to streak past outside into the milky way, you can’t help but feel that this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

© thedemises 2024. all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, copy, or feed my written works to ai.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Sweet Dreams.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

blurb masterlist.

in which, its christmas eve, and harry is tucking his daughter into bed, just like he does every night.

word count - 800.

Bed time had always been Harry’s thing.

Every night, after his wife would give there daughter a bath, he would be the one to get her to sleep, she claimed he had the magic touch, whenever she would be unsettled as a baby, his hands running through her hair would instantly soothe her into a soft sleep.

It was Christmas Eve.

And this was the first year she was properly going to understand what Christmas was.

The nursery is filled with the soft glow of the nightlight, and Harry sits in the rocking chair, his little girl curled in his arms.

Her damp curls are pressed against his chest, her tiny fingers clutching at his shirt. She’s cozy in her sleep sack, but her wide eyes sparkle with excitement, far from ready to close.

“Dada,” she whispers, her voice soft and slightly garbled, still touched with the babyish lilt of her words. “Santa comin’, wight?”

Harry smiles down at her, brushing a stray curl away from her forehead. “He is, love, but only if little girls go to sleep. That’s the rule, you know.”

She shakes her head, her pout exaggerated and dramatic.

“No sweep,” she declares firmly. “I wait fow him.”

“Not even a little bit tired?” Harry teases gently, tilting his head as he rocks her.

“Nuh-uh.” She shakes her head again, her curls bouncing slightly. “I see Santa. He gonna bwing pwesents.”

Harry chuckles softly, his heart swelling at the sight of her determined little face. “He is, but Santa’s very sneaky, you know. He only comes when everyone’s fast asleep. If he thinks you’re awake, he might skip this house altogether.”

Her eyes grow wide at his words, her tiny mouth forming a surprised “O.”

“Nooooo,” she whines, clutching his shirt tighter. “No skip my house, Daddy! I be good!”

“You’ve been very good,” Harry reassures her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But he still needs you to go to sleep. That’s the rule.”

“You want your bottle, love?” he asks softly, his voice low and tender.

She perks up immediately, nodding her head eagerly, her curls bouncing with the motion.

“Baba, pwease,” she says, her small voice filled with enthusiasm, as though it’s the most exciting thing in the world.

“Alright, m’darling,” Harry says, reaching for the bottle on the table beside the rocking chair. He holds it up to her lips, even though she’s perfectly capable of holding it herself.

But this is their ritual, his way of making her feel small and safe, and she leans into him without protest, her hands lightly brushing his as he steadies the bottle for her.

She takes slow, content sips, her eyes fluttering as the warmth and familiarity of the moment begin to lull her closer to sleep.

Harry watches her lovingly, his free hand gently stroking her hair, smoothing the damp curls against her head.

“You’re my clever girl, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice soft and melodic. “Santa’s going to be so proud of you this year. So many presents waiting just for you under the tree.”

She hums softly around the bottle, her eyelids starting to droop, but she fights it, her little fingers reaching for his shirt as if to keep herself grounded in the moment.

“You’re safe, m’love,” Harry whispers, his voice warm and reassuring. He begins to hum a soft tune, the familiar notes of her favorite lullaby wrapping around the room like a gentle embrace.

As the hum turns into words, his voice fills the quiet space, tender and soothing.

“Sleep, my baby, close your eyes,

Santa’s magic fills the skies.

Dream of reindeer, dream of snow,

Christmas morning’s not far to go…”

That was the words his dad used to say to him as a child and so it was only right he repeated the same ones to his children.

Her body relaxes completely against his chest, the bottle slipping from her lips as her breathing evens out.

Harry smiles, his heart swelling as he watches her drift off, so small and peaceful in his arms.

Carefully, he sets the bottle aside and cradles her closer, rocking her gently as he continues to hum.

“Sweet dreams, m’darling,” he whispers, pressing a final kiss to her forehead.

He stands slowly, his movements practiced and deliberate, and lays her in the crib that, for now, still feels like the right place for her.

Pulling the blanket up to her chin, he lingers for a moment, watching her sleep before softly padding out of the room.

[jhdyuiee]

Christmas After Hours

✮ pairing: fiance!jaehyun x fem!reader

✮ warnings/tags: smut!, 69, multiple positions/orgasms, protected sex, tit/breast play, kissing/making out, dirty talk, pet-names/name-calling, cursing, fluff (cute :/), explicit content minors dni!

✮ w.c: 1.8k

✮ a.n: PART 2 of be there for me.

con't -> hi, jiji back! today is a special day! today makes 1 year since i released my first fic (link up above) & so to commemorate that, i've brought to u a part 2, yay! hope u can all enjoy this one, as well as enjoy your Christmas for those of u who celebrate! love u all <33

12. 26

Fuck. 

What time is it?

1 a.m? 2 a.m? 5 a.m?

How long have we been going at it?

It’s the morning after Christmas, the morning after your long-termed boyfriend, Jaehyun, asked you to marry him. It was a joyous occasion, so joyous that you two had to celebrate back here in the suite he managed to book.

When you arrived it was lit up by a fake-candled pathway and rose petals that were scattered that led to the massive bedroom. In there awaited balloons, a rose-petaled heart on the bed, and balloons with your and his initial. It was sort of cliche, but cute.

Yet the cute set-up didn’t last long, you were glad you were able to manage to snap a picture before he had you on the bed, in whatever position he desired.

Honestly, you two were going at it like a pair of animals in heat. No compliments though, you loved it when this side of Jaehyun popped out, a 180 from his innocent and gentle facade.

And now he had you where he wanted you all night. Your sweet, sensitive cunt against his mouth, and his–still–hardened member touching your soft lips.

You kissed along his shaft, using one of your hands to rub his leaking tip. You spread his cum along his cock before licking it right off. He groaned against your pussy lips, darting his tongue out to tease your pulsing hole.

Your own tongue worked its way along his cock, to his leaking tip. You swirl your tongue around it, using the tip of your tongue to lick along his tip’s slit. The sensation of his moans vibrating against your clit.

He bit on your clit gently before tugging on it with only his lips. After playing and teasing your clit, he lets go, working his lips to kiss down your pussy lips. When they’ve arrived at their desired destination, he uses his thumbs to open your lips right up. Jaehyun licks his lips as he’s about to devour you; devour your sweet juices.

When you begin to sink down his cock, your eyes begin to water. You try breathing, inhaling oxygen as you take him in more and more. You could feel as his tip reached the back of your throat, an indication you need an inch or two more before he’s fully within you.

Your moans against his cock don’t stop during this whole ordeal when you feel his tongue dive inside you. You could feel as it presses against your gummy walls in an attempt to stretch you out, only for you to squeeze right back up.

Once you feel he’s all in, you take a couple seconds to a minute accommodating before you start bobbing your head along his cock. You keep it slow and steady, wanting to savor the moment.

Yet on the other hand, Jaehyun wanted you to cum all over him now. He wanted a taste of you, he was a thirsty man, growing dehydrated. And a simple cure of your juices to save him from dying.

He works his tongue faster inside you, slurping and squelching noises bouncing off the walls as he devours you. Though to your surprise, he takes his tongue out leaving you to whine against his shaft.

“Go faster on me baby, if not I’m not letting ya’ cum,” he says in a sultry tone.

You wasted no time, you worked your mouth faster against his shaft, managing to pick up on the small “good girl” comment Jaehyun said before he dove back inside. He worked faster, each stroke against your walls better than the one before. He teased you cunt inside, and managed to use a finger to rub your clit.

You don’t even notice as you begin grinding against his face, wanting his tongue to delve in deeper and deeper. You could feel it, feel as if you're about to gush against him face.

You pick up your pace too, bringing your hands into the mix to fondle his balls before helping your mouth move along his shaft. As you alternate between the two, you feel him twitch inside you, indicating he was about to cum as well.

You two worked your ways faster and faster, bringing one another closer and closer to each other’s highs. And with a pinch to your clit and swirling of your tongue along his tip, you two came. Your sweet juices adorning the entirety of Jaehyun’s face, and his cum coating the insides of your mouth a pretty white.

You made sure all of his cum was inside you, even the bit that managed to slip past your lips, before you swallowed it. Feeling satisfied.

He, too, felt satisfied as he licked up every drop. Jaehyun can’t contain the noises coming out of his mouth as he gets a taste of you more and more. Your pussy was just too perfect, made just for him. And as he finishes getting the last drops, you shift positions.

“Scoot up a bit Jaehyun, against the headboard,” you say, breathlessly.

He doesn’t hesitate, moving all the way back until he hits the headboard. And he watches and you crawl to him, so hot. He wouldn’t dare tear his eyes off you. He watches as you get place your legs on either side of him.

“Could you go a little further down?” you asked.

And he does until his head hits the headboard. Perfect, you thought.

You shift downward a bit as well, until his cock rubs along your cunt. You throw your head back, a moan escaping your lips as you continue grinding yourself on his cock. You wait for it to harden before grabbing another condom to slip on his cock. Rubbing yourself once more to coat him, you lift yourself up a bit before sinking right onto his cock.

“Shit, feels so good baby,” Jaehyun groans as he feels your cunt on him again.

When he’s all in, you move up and down on his cock. Your hands resting on his chest as a means of guidance as you continue moving inside him. You bite your lips as you feel it kiss your g-spot with every thrust. Yet, you couldn’t keep up with this pace for long. Your moves slowed and Jaehyun noticed it too.

“Need some help baby?” he says as he grips onto your hips, ready to control.

You don’t respond, nodding your head as you lay down onto his chest. “Don’t worry I got you,” he whispers into your ear before gripping onto your ass so he could slide out before thrusting himself back in.

“Oh god!” you moaned in delight.

Jaehyun thrusts into you at an inhuman pace, his stamina still strong. The slapping of skin echoing in the room, mushing together with your moans. Your back aches and arms wrap around him as he fucks himself into you.

“S- Stop,” you moan, capturing his attention. He locks eyes with you, faces only centimeters apart. His thrusting slowed and you take the opportunity to lift yourself back up. Jaeyun joins you, eyes not breaking from yours.

“To- Together,” you say before helping in fucking yourself onto his cock as he tried doing the same. He admires you, taking you in and taking in the way your tits bounced with every thrust. He bows his head down, taking one of your tits into his mouth. He licks your nipple, sucking on it before turning his attention to your bud.

You clench around him, moans turning into pants as you continued fucking yourself on him. And once he lets go of your tit with a pop, focusing on your mouth next. He kisses you with much desire and lust, fighting his tongue with yours before parting from you the same time he feels himself reaching.

“Cum together?” he asks in more of a whisper.

“Y-Yes,” you softly moaned.

And with one rough thrust from Jaehyun’s side you both came, collapsing into him. He holds you close, holds you tight almost as if someone would take you away.  And just then Jaehyun gets you on your stomach, lifting your hips up so your ass is sticking in the air.

The cool air replaces where his cock was before, and you hear the ripping of another condom. Jaehyun rubs his cock on your ass, placing both hands on your hips as he then sinks his cock inside you again.

You were still sensitive from your other orgasm, and the many from before, that you almost came right then and there. You hold off for a while longer, mind going crazy from the way Jaehyun’s cock kissed your cervix.

“How do you always feel so good,” Jaehyun says, loving the way you're still pulsating around him.

His hands touch the skin of your ass, groping the flesh before slapping it with his hands. You arch your back even more, clenching like crazy around him.

Slap. Slap. Slap

“My sweet girl loves getting her ass slapped, right? Loves it when she gets treated like a slut?”

“Y-Yes! Oh, fuck, yes Jae- your… your slut, only yours,” you moan, words unable to formulate in your brain with every rough thrust he gives to you.

You’re nearly knocked out, seeing stars in your eyes. You lose control over your body, feeling as it lets go around his cock for another time tonight. You cum with incoherent phrases, curse words flying through the air as Jaehyun gives you yet another satisfying release.

Jaehyun doesn’t stop as you cum on him, he fucks you through it as he wants to meet his own high. Yet lucky him, with the view in front of him: your back arching beautifully, ass red with his hand prints, and the mutters of his name coming from your mouth, he cums into the condom once more.

He takes his cock out, slipping the condom off and tying it before tossing it to the bin beside the bed. He turns to find the box of condoms gone, the whole pack. He mutters a small, “fuck” under his breath. He truly was a wild animal, a predator.

As he then turns to you he sees you passed out, exhausted from tonight– the night he passionately devoured you. A dimpled-smile touches his lips as he inches towards you. He gently moves your body to lay against his. He admires your beauty, how was it that you glowed even more now?

You were his favorite everything– person, place, song, smile, laugh, color, flower, food, hobby, the list goes on. And to think he’d now be able to spend the rest of his life with you, together until you two are grey and old, feels like a dream come true. You were always going to be his lover, in this life, his past life, and the next life.

His hand takes a hold of yours, he sees as the diamond ring, the engagement ring, illuminates through the night light. He kisses your ring, eyes coming to shut. And before they manage to close he whispers…

“I love you, my wife.”

© jhdyuiee

2024. 12. 24

final a.n: merry christmas! now that a year has passed, i can't wait for what the future has in store for this blog <33. thank u for giving me the strength to write, i love u all so dearly <33

[little-jana]

"Christmas With The Hotchner Boys"

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: kissing, mentions of being alone, being called a "good girl", Jack being the cutest little Christmas elf

Words: 1.65k

Summary: Nobody should be alone on Christmas, the Hotchners make sure of that!

a/n: This is for anyone that feels lonely during the holidays! Merry Christmas! xo

Christmas wasn’t supposed to feel this lonely.

I stared at the blinking lights of my tiny tree, tucked into the corner of my living room. The scent of pine lingered faintly, but the holiday spirit hadn’t quite settled over me. It was my first Christmas in years spent away from my family, a choice born out of necessity rather than desire. A looming work deadline and a snowstorm that canceled flights had left me here—alone, or so I thought.

My phone buzzed on the counter, drawing me out of my thoughts.

Hotch.

Seeing his name flash on my screen made my heart flutter, a reaction I’d grown used to over the months. Aaron Hotchner had a way of showing up exactly when I needed him, even if he didn’t realize it.

I picked up the phone, trying to keep my voice steady. “Hotch, hey. What’s up?”

“Hi,” he said, his deep voice warm and familiar. “I just wanted to check in. I know you said you weren’t going home for Christmas. How are you holding up?”

I smiled softly, even though he couldn’t see it. “I’m fine. Just a little... quiet around here.”

There was a pause, the kind of comfortable silence I’d grown to appreciate with him. “I thought that might be the case,” he said finally. “That’s why I’m outside your building.”

I blinked, certain I’d misheard him. “You’re... what?”

“Outside,” he repeated, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Can you buzz me in?”

I hurried to the intercom, my heart pounding as I pressed the button. A few moments later, there was a soft knock at my door.

When I opened it, there he was, standing in the hallway with a small wrapped package in one hand and a faint smile on his face. But he wasn’t alone.

“Hi,” he said, stepping inside with Jack close behind him, clutching a box of cookies.

“Hi,” I said, my eyes flicking between the two of them. “What are you... what are you doing here?”

“Well, Jack and I were making cookies, and we realized we might’ve made too many,” Aaron said, his tone so casual it almost made me laugh. “And I didn’t want you to spend Christmas Eve alone.”

Jack grinned up at me, his cheeks pink from the cold. “Dad said we should come over because Christmas is better with friends.”

I felt a lump rise in my throat as I knelt down to Jack’s level. “Is that so?”

He nodded earnestly. “And we brought the good cookies! Not the burnt ones.”

I laughed softly, ruffling his hair. “Well, thank you for sharing. I’m honored.”

Aaron cleared his throat, holding out the wrapped package. “And this is for you.”

I took it carefully, my fingers brushing against his for a brief moment. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to,” he said simply.

I unwrapped the package slowly, revealing a leather-bound journal with a sleek, elegant design. It was beautiful, thoughtful, and so unmistakably him.

“You mentioned wanting to start journaling,” he said, almost shyly. “I thought this might help.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I blinked them away quickly. “Aaron, this is perfect. Thank you.”

Jack tugged on my sleeve, holding up the box. “Do you have a tree? We could put cookies under it for Santa.”

I glanced at Aaron, who gave me a small shrug and a smile. “What do you think?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” I said, leading Jack into the living room where my modest little tree stood.

Jack immediately set to work arranging cookies on a plate while I grabbed mugs for hot chocolate. Aaron followed me into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as I worked.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” I said, my voice soft.

He shrugged, his gaze warm and steady. “It didn’t feel right, leaving you alone tonight.”

“Still,” I said, meeting his eyes. “Thank you. It means a lot.”

He smiled then, that rare, genuine smile that made my heart ache in the best way. “You don’t have to thank me.”

When we returned to the living room, Jack was carefully inspecting the tree, his head tilted as he studied the decorations.

“It’s pretty,” he said, turning to me with a grin. “But it needs one more thing.”

“Oh?” I asked, crouching down beside him. “What’s that?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small star ornament, holding it up proudly. “We made this at school. Can I put it on?”

“Of course,” I said, helping him find the perfect spot near the top.

As Jack admired his handiwork, Aaron stepped closer, his arm brushing against mine. The warmth of his presence was grounding, and I felt myself relax in a way I hadn’t all night.

“Looks perfect,” Aaron said, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

I turned to look at him, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of us. His eyes were soft, full of something unspoken, and the air between us felt charged in a way that made my pulse quicken.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly.

His hand brushed against mine, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down my spine. “Merry Christmas,” he said, his tone warm and intimate.

Jack’s voice broke the moment, calling out from across the room. “Can we watch a movie?”

Aaron chuckled, stepping back. “What do you think?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” I said, my voice steadier now.

We spent the rest of the evening curled up on the couch, Jack nestled between us as we watched his favorite Christmas movie. His laughter filled the room, and for the first time in days, I felt a true sense of peace.

When the movie ended, Jack had fallen asleep, his head resting against Aaron’s shoulder. I helped Aaron tuck him into the spare bedroom, and as we stood in the doorway, watching Jack sleep, I felt a wave of emotion I couldn’t quite put into words.

“He’s amazing,” I said softly.

Aaron nodded, his expression tender as he looked at his son. “He is.”

We returned to the living room, and as I started tidying up, Aaron caught my wrist, stopping me.

“Leave it,” he said, his voice low.

I turned to face him, my breath catching at the intensity in his eyes.

“Aaron...”

He stepped closer, his hand still holding mine. “You don’t have to do everything alone, you know.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “I’m not used to... this.”

“Letting someone in?” he asked, his tone gentle but firm.

I nodded, unable to find the words.

He smiled softly, his other hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from my face. “You’re doing a good job,” he murmured. “Better than you realize.”

The warmth in his voice made my chest tighten, and I felt my cheeks heat.

“Good girl,” he said, his thumb brushing against my cheek.

The words hit me like a bolt of lightning, and I felt my knees go weak. His gaze held mine, steady and unwavering, and I realized there was no hiding how much those words affected me.

“Aaron,” I whispered, my voice shaky.

He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my forehead. “You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Tears filled my eyes, and I reached up, wrapping my arms around him. His embrace was strong, reassuring, and I felt myself relax against him completely.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my temple.

“Merry Christmas,” I said softly, my heart full to bursting.

[user1smvtysturniolo]

"Quiet" night | Chris Sturniolo

Pairing: dom!Chris x sub!Reader

Summary: you had a crush on Chris since you became friends with him in middle school. One night, of winter break. You decided to have a come over at the triplets house with some friends. This was pretty usual, because you hung out with them almost everyday. But this time, you wanted to watch a movie. Well, turned out you and Chris went out for some "fresh air" and somehow you guys ended up...

Trigger Warning: unprotected sex, praise kink, nipple playing, p in v, pet names, semi-public sex

It was a chilly winter evening when me and Nick decided to spend a cozy night in with his brothers, Chris and Matt and couple close friends. You guys settled onto the plush couch in the living room, blankets draped over our laps as Nick popped in a Christmasy movie. As the opening credits rolled, you unconsciously snuggled closer to Chris, feeling his warm body press against yours.

The first act of the film played out uneventfully, with the occasional laugh and whispered remark exchanged between me and Nick, and some other people. Matt, however, seemed to be struggling to stay awake, his head nodding forward every few minutes. Matt, after half an hour of the movie, Matt had succumbed to sleep, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath his hoodie. We decided to pause the movie for a break, Nick and a friend went to the kitchen grabbing more snacks and the other friend went to the bathroom. While Matt went to his room to sleep.

I was left alone with Chris. Finding myself growing increasingly aroused, by having him by my side. I squeezed your thighs together, seeking some friction to alleviate the throbbing ache between your legs while thinking about an excuse to leave this uncomfortable situation. Unbeknownst to me, Chris noticed the subtle movement and the flush spreading across your cheeks. He turned to face you, a subtle smile on his face.

"Y/n, do you wanna go out and have some fresh air. I feel like you're kind of nervous." He said as he checked your face to understand your expressions. "Oh! Totally. I'll go, I-I'm okay" I said nervously avoiding his eyes, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "I will go too" he said as he put a hand on top of my shoulder trying to calm me down. I finally got courage to look up at his blue eyes and we both left the house, going to a private park near by.

We sat on a bench and he took my chin, tilting my head up to look at him. "Come on, y/n. Do you think I don't notice?" He said as he licked his lips. "W-what?" I asked way too nervous to express my feelings to him. "Do you think I don't notice this". He quickly said as he finally kissed me. I got on top of him in the bench and started kissing him back. His fingers began to wander, tracing the curves of your breasts through the thin fabric of my sweater.

"You're so cute when you get turned on," Chris murmured against my lips. His hot breath sending shivers to my spine. He tweaked and twisted your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. I bit back a moan, not wanting anyone near the park to hear us. Chris's hands grew bolder, sliding under my sweatshirt to cup my bare breasts. He kneaded them gently, rolling the sensitive peaks between his thumbs and forefingers.

My breathing quickened, and a dampness began to form between your legs. Chris seemed to sense my arousal, his touch becoming more insistent. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your jeans and tugged, urging you to stand up. With a dazed look in your eyes, you complied, letting him strip off your pants and underwear in one swift motion.

Chris laid you back down on the bench, his gaze devouring the sight of your naked body. He knelt between your spread legs, he bit his lip holding back a groan . "Damn, you're so hot," he purred, leaning in to lick a slow trail up your inner thigh.

Your hips bucked involuntarily at the contact, a soft whimper escaping your lips. Chris chuckled, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. He reached the apex of your thighs and circled your clit with the tip of his tongue, savoring your taste. Chris's ministrations soon became too much to bear, and you found yourself writhing beneath his skilled mouth. Just as you thought you couldn't take anymore, he abruptly pulled away, leaving you panting and aching for more.

Before you could protest, Chris flipped you over onto your hands and knees, positioning himself behind you. He gave your ass a firm squeeze, and a few strokes to his dick. And then pressed the swollen head of his cock against your dripping entrance. With a single, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside you. A loud moan tore from your throat, muffled by your hand clamped over your mouth. The sensation of being filled so completely was overwhelming, and you fought to stifle further noises that might awake the whole neighborhood around the park.

Chris's grip on your hip tightened as he began to move, his thick shaft pistoning in and out of your clenching heat. "Fuck, you're so tight" Chris groaned, his pace increasing as he drove deeper into your willing body. You could only manage to respond with low gasps and whimpers, your mind consumed by the intense pleasure coursing through your veins.

Chris's praise only served to heighten your arousal. "Y'doing so well, y'moans sound so sexy. Fuck" he praised with low groans, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust. His words sparked a new wave of desire within you, and you pushed back against him, meeting his strokes with equal fervor. The sound of skin slapping against skin was loud in the silent park, mingling with your muffled moans and Chris's grunts of pleasure.

As Chris's thrusts grew more erratic, you could tell he was close to climax. "Gonna fill you up, m'love..." He warned, his voice strained with impending release. You braced yourself for the onslaught, your inner walls fluttering around his pulsing shaft. With a final, brutal thrust, Chris buried himself to the hilt and held still, his cock throbbing inside you. A guttural roar escaped his lips as he came undone, his hot seed spilling deep into your womb.

The sensation of his warmth flooding your depths triggered your own orgasm, and you cried out silently as a gush of fluid erupted from your core. The intensity of your climax caught both you and Chris by surprise, and you collapsed forward onto the bench, spent and trembling.

For a moment, the only sounds were your ragged breathing. Then, Chris's arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a tender embrace as he peppered your neck with gentle kisses. Seconds later, I put back my panties and jeans. I sat down besides Chris in the bench, too shy to even look at him in the eyes. Chris after a few minutes finally broke the silence.

"God, so... you're really into me?" He asked as he stared into the sky while thinking about everything that happened in the last 20 minutes. I looked at him, grabbing his cheek, being centimeters away from him. "Chris, I've loved you since middle school" I bit my lip. He got closer and finally kissed me fully.

When we got back, we were holding hands and really close together. Everyone in the room turned to look at us. They knew my crush on him, and now they know we're in a relationship after all these years. "Y'all are back, we got really worried for you, guys. Didn't even pick up the phone, and now that I see you guys like this I don't even want to know what happened" Nick said jokingly as everyone chuckled at his comment.

Should I do part 2? Comment ideas down below about what the part 2 could be!!

Divider by: @bernardsbendystraws. Taglist: @ccxsturns @xoxo4chrisss @madisonb44r @courta13 @kenzieeluby @mattsfavginger @luvs4chrs

[lovie-bugzz]

goodnight ┊sirius black

pairing - bsf!sirius x f!reader (first person pov)

summary - You wake up from a nightmare, not being able to sleep. So you go to your best friend Sirius for comfort. Still not being able to sleep, Sirius claims he knows the perfect way to get you to sleep…

contains - smut, soft dom!Sirius, swearing, fingering, female orgasm, dirty talk, teasing, orgasm denial(sort of)

word count - 4627

✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

I woke up with a start, shooting up in my bed with a gasp, my eyes shooting open as I panted heavily. My heart was racing, my body was sweating profusely, and I was shaking.

I haven’t had a nightmare this bad since I was a kid, but recently they’ve been happening more frequently as the wizarding war gets more intense. Seeing the terrifying and awful things that are happening in the world written on the daily prophet everyday has taken a toll on me.

I was scared all the time. It felt like all it took was one wrong move and my friends and I would be gone, just like that.

Once I steadied my heartbeat, I laid back down, letting out a sigh. I closed my eyes again, trying to get back to sleep, but whenever I closed my eyes, all I could see were flashes from my nightmare, all of my friends dying at the hands of the dark lord.

I sat up once more, thinking for a moment before getting out of bed, grabbing my wand, and leaving my dorm. I quickly but quietly walked down the girls dormitory stairs, and went up the boys stairs.

I found myself standing in front of the marauders dorm, after a moment I pointed my wand at the doorknob and whispered, “Alohomora.” before twisting the handle and walking in.

I was sort of surprised to see all of the boys sound asleep since usually they'd be up causing mischief, so I carefully closed and locked the door behind me.

I tiptoed over to Sirius’ bed, chuckling quietly to myself as I peaked through his curtains and saw his sleeping position. His black hair wildly strewn across his face, while he held tightly onto one of his pillows, soft snores falling from his lips.

I admired him for a moment longer before moving the curtain aside so I could reach down and nudge his shoulder. “Sirius… Sirius…” I whispered.

The boy let out a soft grumble as he stirred a bit, before his eyelids slowly fluttered open, his sleepy gaze landing on me standing over him. His brows furrowed as he let out a yawn, "What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice raspy from just waking up.

“I… I had a nightmare. I can't get back to sleep.” I told him, shifting on my feet. Sirius was the only person who knew about my nightmares, though I never spoke in detail about them, which he respected.

His sleepy expression softened when he heard my words, concern etched onto his face as he studied my expression. He had been worried about me ever since my nightmares started. Sirius sat up fully and pushed the blankets off of him, “C'mere.” He said, patting the spot next to him on the bed for me.

I smiled gratefully and instantly slipped through his curtains, and crawled under his covers, curling into his bare chest. “Thank you…” I whispered to him as he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close to his side.

He hummed in response, wrapping his other arm around me as well and holding me tightly against his chest, his chin resting on the top of my head. He pressed a delicate kiss to the top of my head while one of his hands started gently rubbing my back.

"No need to thank me, darling." He whispered softly, the nickname rolling off his tongue easily.

I felt so safe in his arms, it's been a while since we've had a sleepover together, the last time was probably in our 3rd year, which was 3 years ago as now we are in 6th year. I let out a deep breath against his chest, feeling calmer now that I was in his arms.

Sirius smiled against my hair, he knew how much I loved and craved physical affection, especially in times like these where I was upset. He started tracing patterns along my back with his fingers, enjoying the feeling of having me in his arms again after a while.

"I missed this…" He admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. I nodded my head against him with a small content smile on my face, as I mumbled, “Yeah… me too.”

He hummed softly as he continued tracing patterns on my back, occasionally moving up to run his fingers through my hair. He looked down at me, noticing how tired I looked, and pressed another kiss to the top of my head before speaking up again. "You can try and sleep if you want, darling. I'm right here."

A small yawn left my lips, as I realized how exhausted I truly was, "Okay..." I spoke, letting my eyes close as I tried to fall asleep with Sirius still holding me close.

About 5 minutes had passed, and I couldn't fall asleep. I wasn't sure exactly why, as I was so tired, but my brain wouldn't turn off. I let out a huff as my eyes opened again, my brows furrowed in frustration as all I wanted was a good night's rest.

Sirius noticed how tense my body was against his, meaning that I wasn't asleep yet. He could tell that I was frustrated and probably annoyed that I couldn't sleep. He stopped tracing patterns on my back and moved his hand to gently grip my chin, tilting my head up to look at him. "Your mind is racing, isn't it?"

I nodded in response, rolling the smallest bit out of his arms and onto my back, making his hand fall from my chin. My gaze was fixed on the ceiling as I chewed on my bottom lip, something I did when I was frustrated.

Sirius raised an eyebrow at me as he propped himself up on his elbow looking down at me. "Hey, don't do that." He said, using his other hand to gently take my lip out from between my teeth with his thumb and index finger.

My head turned to the side to look at him as he freed my lip, I gave him a small smile before sighing, "I just want to be able to sleep. This is so annoying."

My words gave Sirius an idea. He knew how to get people to go to sleep, girls specifically. It was sort of his specialty. A mind blowing orgasm or two would do it. But he had never done that with me, I was his best friend, but at the same time, he knew how much I needed rest, and this was the only way he knew how to help me.

Sirius debated in his head for a moment, if he should really do what he had in mind, for a second he almost thought it was ridiculous, but then he looked at me. He looked at how tired I was and how frustrated I seemed. That's when he decided to do it, besides it didn't have to mean anything, it was just one friend helping another.

I furrowed my brows as I watched the grin grow on his face, and just before I could question him, he leaned closer to me and whispered, "I think I know just the thing to help you sleep, darling." He said in a soft yet suggestive tone.

My cheeks turned a soft pink as he used that tone of voice on me, I knew that tone. It was the same tone he always used when he tried to seduce girls.

"What are you-" I started, but before I could finish he cut me off by slowly placing a hand on my hip and gently tugging me closer to him.

He smirked as he saw the confused and curious look on my face. He then leaned in closer to the point where his breath was hitting my ear and spoke in a low tone, so only I could hear. "Would you like me to show you?"

His tone of voice and the way his breath wafted over my ear made a shiver run down my spine, my breath catching in my throat. "Sirius..." I whispered out, gulping before continuing. "Do you really think that's a good idea?"

Sirius' smirk only widened as he noticed how flustered I got by his subtle actions and the way my voice was shaking. His hand on my hip tightened a bit. He gently nipped at my earlobe before responding, his voice was still low and seductive as he spoke.

"I think it's the only idea, darling. You need to relax and get some rest, and I know just the way to do that." He said, his hand slowly moving from my hip to my thigh, giving it a light squeeze.

I gently bit my lip again, but this time to make sure any noises didn't slip out. He was turning me on, I could already feel the wetness seeping into my panties. But still, I had doubts, no matter how much I needed it.

"What if the boys hear?" I asked, but Sirius was already pulling his wand out from under his pillow and pointing it towards his bed curtains. He quickly muttered the silencing spell, "Muffliato."

He smirked as he looked back at me, placing his wand back under his pillow, I let out a shaky breath as his hand returned to my thigh, "There. They won't hear a thing." He told me, his voice now a little smug as he continued to tease you, before his face softened, "Just say the word, and I'll stop." He spoke, looking deep into my eyes to make sure I knew he was serious.

Now I wasn't an idiot, I knew all about Sirius' sexual escapades. How could I not? He bragged about them all the time, and from the stories I've heard from all the girls he's been with, I knew he was incredible in bed. With that knowledge mixed with my desperate need to get some sleep, I didn't have the strength in me to say no, so instead the words that came out of my mouth were, "Don't stop."

Sirius let out a satisfied hum as a smirk tugged on the corner of his lips, as he heard those words leave my mouth. His hand on my thigh traveled further up, slowly making its way in between my legs, stopping when his fingers were pressed against my covered core, making my breath hitch once again.

"Good girl." Sirius mumbled softly before leaning in closer, his mouth now directly next to my ear again. "Just relax and let me take care of you, darling." He whispered into my ear, nipping at it once again before pulling away and placing a light kiss on my neck, his other hand that wasn't between my legs moving to gently grip my chin, tilting my head back a bit.

A small whimper fell from my lips, and in one quick movement, Sirius had pushed me down so my back was against the bed, while he hovered over me, his lips still attached to my neck. After a moment, he pulled away, moving both his hands to the waistband of my shorts, but he stayed like that, not moving as he questioned me with his eyes.

I gave him a short nod, but it seemed Sirius wanted more, "Words, darling. I need words." He said in a low voice, making me squirm a bit. I gulped, before speaking, "Take them off."

Sirius smirked once again, obviously loving the effect he had on me. It made his ego grow. "As you wish, darling." He responded, before slowly tugging my shorts down my legs and placing them to the side. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he stared down at me, before leaning back down to hover above me.

His lips reattached to my neck, now lightly nipping at the skin, occasionally letting out a soft growl against my skin when he found a sensitive spot that made me let out a soft sound. One of his hands slowly pulled up my shirt, his hand occasionally slipping under it to gently run his fingers over my stomach, while his other hand went back to its spot between my legs, now starting to rub small circles over my clit through my panties, making me whine in pleasure.

Sirius continued his assault on my neck, his tongue darting out occasionally to soothe over the spots that he nipped leaving small purple marks that would have to be covered up tomorrow, but right now he didn't care.

His attention was focused on finding the spots that made me whimper and whine, and once he did, he would make sure to keep his mouth in that spot as long as possible, all while his other hand continued to tease me through my panties in the most torturous way. He was enjoying every single noise that was escaping me, loving the way I was squirming and wriggling underneath him.

"You make such beautiful sounds, darling." He whispered against my skin, his lips trailing down to my collarbone as he moved my panties to the side. The boy chuckled when he felt me shiver underneath his touch.

My breath hitched in my throat as I felt the delicate touch of his finger against my soaking wet folds. "S-Sirius..." I whimpered out, as he pulled his head back to look down at me. My face was blushed, my breath coming in pants, I was already a mess.

"You’re so wet for me already.” he spoke, and as if to prove a point he let his middle finger slip right inside me, making me gasp in both pleasure and shock. He smirked down at me as he took his finger back out, spreading my slick around my folds.

My head lolled back against the pillow as more whimpers fell from my mouth. I don't think I had ever been this turned on and desperate in my life. What was even more shocking was the fact that Sirius Black, my best friend, was doing this to me, he was making me feel like this.

When Sirius saw my head fall back against the pillow, he gently grabbed my chin with his free hand and tilted my head up so my eyes locked onto his, his smirk only growing wider when he saw how flushed and desperate I looked. "Look at me." He said, his gaze was dark, full of lust while his finger dropped to my entrance again to collect more of my wetness, before trailing up to my bundle of nerves, rubbing in tight circles.

His words combined with his actions made me let out a moan as I struggled to keep my gaze on him. "Shh, I know, darling." He mumbled, as his finger continued its slow, torturous pace on my clit, wanting to drive me insane before any sort of relief. "Look at you, already trembling and whining for me, and I've barely even touched you."

He was right, I was trembling, my breaths coming in pants as my heart thundered against my chest. I was so desperate, all I wanted was a release, but he was taking his time with me. "Sirius... Please." I whimpered, looking up at him.

His dick was throbbing against his pants, straining against the material and begging for attention as he watched me squirming and moaning at his touch. But for once in his life he didn’t feel the need to give himself pleasure, tonight was about me and me only. "You want it, don’t you?" he asked, leaning down and placing a kiss against my cheek while his finger picked up its pace the smallest bit, "You want my fingers inside you?” He breathed out in question.

I let out a shaky moan as I felt him kiss my cheek and spoke to me in that low sultry voice. He was driving me insane, his words and his actions making my eyes roll back in my head, "Y-Yes." I responded, my voice was trembling as I could barely speak from the way I was shaking with pleasure. I moved my head to the side, my cheeks flushed red as I met his gaze again. I could tell that this was affecting him too, but he was being surprisingly selfless tonight.

The look on my face and the tone of my voice made his smirk grow even wider, his breathing becoming a bit unsteady the more he watched me squirm and moan from his touches.

He gently rubbed his thumb over my bottom lip, before leaning down closer so our faces were mere inches away from each other. "You look absolutely beautiful like this..." he mumbled, which made my stomach clench and my face flush. After a moment, he pulled his finger away from my pussy and brought it up to my mouth, tracing my lips with it, before whispering, "Open your mouth for me."

I did as he said, parting my lips just enough for his finger to slip in, and I wrapped my lips around it, swirling my tongue as I tasted myself. Sirius let out a shaky breath as he watched me, a small groan leaving his mouth, "Fuck..." He practically growled as he removed his finger from my mouth.

Sirius leaned back down and started to place kisses down my neck as he whispered in my ears, the low tone of his voice making me shiver under him once again. "Such a good girl, following instructions so nicely." He mumbled, the smirk never leaving his face as he gently nipped at my skin.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me right now, darling." he mumbled, his finger trailing back down my body, "But right now it's about you, and only you. Understood? Tonight is only about your pleasure."

I bit my lip, nodding my head in response as I didn't think I'd even be able to form any words at the moment. Sirius smirked at me, muttering a small, "Good." and before I could even say or do anything, he slipped two fingers inside of me, pumping them at a slow speed making me moan out.

"You're so tight, darling." he mumbled, as he picked up the pace just the smallest bit, loving the look on my face as I moaned in response. It wasn't rare to see a girl like this for him, so desperate and needy, falling apart for him, but the fact that it was me only made it even more special, but he kept that to himself. He was only doing this to help me sleep, right? He shook the thought off before it could develop further, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind in favor of paying attention to my pleasure.

"Fuck, Sirius..." I moaned out, as he picked up his pace even more, while simultaneously circling his thumb around my clit. The feeling made my eyes roll back in my head as my hands searched around me for something to grip onto, only finding the bedsheets below me, trying to ground myself in some way as my body trembled from his touch.

"Yeah? You like your best friend's fingers?" He teased as he pumped his digits even faster, his gaze focused on my pleasure filled face. I unconsciously clenched around him from his dirty words, the action making him let out a low growl. "Answer me." He spoke, his voice husky as his fingers reached deeper inside of me, brushing right up against my g-spot.

I let out a guttural moan, "Yes! Yes, I love it!" I moaned out, feeling myself getting closer to my release, and I was sure he could tell too, with the way I was constantly squeezing around his fingers.

His smirk only grew, he was growing obsessed with hearing me moan out what he wanted to hear. If there was anything Sirius Black loved it was praise, hearing a girl tell him how good he was making her feel. But once again he had to try and shake off the weird feelings he was getting from all this. I was his best friend, but for some reason it seemed to feel like much more than that. Sirius looked down at me, watching my expression change as I grew closer and closer to my release, but he was nowhere near being done with me. He wanted to see how much he could push me.

His pace picked up, now going at such a speed that my breath was coming out in pants and my vision was going blurry, and I was so close, right on the edge of my release. Right when I was about to cum, Sirius slowed down to an achingly slow pace, his smirk growing wider as he saw the look on my face. He knew how desperate I was, he knew what I wanted.

He kept up his slow pace, his thumb gently rubbing against my clit every so often, but never enough to send me over the edge. "Come on, Sirius." I whined out, my hips squirming as I tried to make him go faster again.

"Ah, ah." He said, using his free hand to lightly grip my hip, stopping me from moving while keeping his fingers moving at their unbearably slow pace, "Patience darling. Don't be greedy." He spoke, his voice was smug, seeing the desperation on my face, knowing what I wanted, but not giving it to me just yet. He was enjoying torturing me like this, the control he had over my pleasure.

He knew exactly what he was doing to me, and he knew it was driving me crazy. I let out a frustrated groan as he continued to move his fingers at a snail's pace, my hips trying to move but his hand on my hip stopped me from doing so. I looked up at him, my eyes filled with a mix of desperation and need, silently begging him to let me cum.

Seeing the look on my face, made his heart flutter and his stomach clench. He'd never been this affected by a girl before, well at least not that he could remember. He was starting to wonder if this was a good idea, but before he could think about it too hard, one of his fingers curled up against my g-spot and his pace picked up speed. Not too much, but it was enough to send my eyes rolling back in my head, and a loud moan tore from my throat.

The sound of your moan sent a jolt straight to his cock, making him bite back a moan of his own. His eyes never left your face as he continued to move his fingers inside of you, watching your expressions change with every single touch, committing them to memory.

Still being sensitive from my stolen orgasm, it didn't take long for me to get close again. I couldn't hold back any of the moans leaving my mouth, my body was tingling with pleasure and need for release.

Sirius watched as you grew more and more desperate, and as you approached your orgasm again, he started to pick up the pace of his fingers once more. He knew you wouldn't last long this time, not after what he had just done to you.

"Are you close, darling?" he asked, his voice low and husky as he spoke into your ear. His thumb moved faster over your clit as he curled his fingers inside you.

"Yes. Yes! Please let me cum." I moaned out, practically pleading with him as I neared the edge.

His smirk only grew wider at that, he loved seeing me begging for him, begging for my release, it only fueled his ego even more. "Go on then, darling. Cum for me." he practically growled out, as his fingers moved even faster, hitting all the right spots inside me.

And once his words registered in my brain, I did, my back arching off the bed as a series of sounds left my mouth, a mix of his name and curses. My entire body shook in pure ecstasy, my vision going white for a moment as I came, hard, my legs trembling as I tried to process the intense feeling.

The look on Sirius' face was satisfied as he watched, his heart racing from seeing me get so lost in pleasure that he was giving me. His eyes were fixed on my face, taking in every single expression, every single twitch and every single moan. He was growing obsessed, watching me fall apart from his touch, he didn't understand why he was having these thoughts and feelings, and for once, Sirius Black wasn't in control of himself.

In one swift movement, he leaned down and captured my lips with his in a heated kiss, swallowing all of my moans as his fingers worked me through my orgasm. His eyes were shut tightly as his lips moved against mine, he was completely lost in the kiss, his fingers continuing to move inside me as my body trembled under his touch.

The kiss was messy and completely intoxicating, neither of us seemed to want it to end anytime soon. Sirius felt something inside him start to stir as he kissed me, something that he didn't quite understand, but he wasn't thinking properly enough to question what it was.

After another moment, he forced himself to pull his lips away from mine, but his fingers didn't stop, he only slowed down before eventually stopping, watching as I whimpered and trembled under him from the aftershocks of my orgasm. "You're so beautiful like this." he whispered, his voice soft as he pulled me into his arms.

I was still shaking as he pulled me into his arms, burying my face in the crook of his neck as I attempted to steady my breathing and slow my thudding heart. Everything was still sort of blurry from the intensity of the orgasm he had given me, I was sure this was the most powerful one I had ever experienced. "You're not so bad yourself..." I mumbled against his skin, my voice weak and shaky.

He chuckled lightly and planted a gentle kiss on top of my head, a small smirk still on his face as he thought about everything that just happened. His thoughts were racing a mile a minute as he tried to make sense of his feelings.

He laid there with me in his arms, the sound of our heavy breathing filling the room. Sirius was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he just made his best friend cum. His best friend, who he was so close with that they practically knew everything about each other, who he had never even looked at in a sexual way before.

I stayed pressed up against his chest, my eyes slowly started to flutter closed as my body relaxed against him. His heartbeat was steady and soothing next to my ear, and the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed helped to slowly calm my own frantic breathing. Soon I felt the exhaustion start to hit me, my body completely spent from everything that just happened.

Sirius smiled a little as he felt my body slowly go slack against him, my breaths becoming deep and even as I began to fall asleep. He held me close to him, continuing to place soft kisses on top of my head. He still had a million questions in his head about everything that had just happened, but his mind was too foggy from exhaustion to properly process all of them. After a moment he spoke, his voice soft and quiet.

"Goodnight, darling."

✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

masterlist

[gurugirl]

A Good Boy Xmas Blurb

A Good Boy Masterlist

Summary: Y/n gets Harry a special xmas gift and she helps him get acquainted with it.

Word Count: 1,658

Warning: smut, assisted masterbation, use of toy, age gap

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"What is this?" Harry looked at Y/n, a surprised smile on his face after he'd opened one of the gifts she got him. He knew exactly what he was looking at.

"Something to use when I'm not here. You can pretend it's me."

The small tabletop Christmas tree in the corner lit up the space of his dorm room while they had a pine-scented candle burning on his bedside table.

He turned the fleshlight over in his hands and eyed the opening where it looked like part of the female anatomy—sort of. "Looks nothing like yours."

She laughed, "Well it's not supposed to. Just something to have fun with when I'm not here."

He grinned and looked down at it, fingers pressing over the soft material, "Very thoughtful. Wished it looked more like you, though. Gonna be weird sticking myself in this and trying to pretend it's you when it looks like…" he laughed, "Well, I don't know who it looks like."

Y/n climbed to her knees and kissed his mouth softly, "Let's play with it now. I'll help you with it that way next time you use it alone you'll remember that I was here the first time you fucked it."

He swallowed and groaned, "But what if I just want to fuck you instead."

"Well, we can do that later, can't we? I'm here all weekend with you. Let me try this out on you. Want to see how it looks." She grasped the toy in her hand and kissed her way down his neck.

Y/n and Harry would be spending Christmas together in his dorm. She didn't want to be in that big house with Leo while he had Parker over. She wasn't jealous, it was just an awkward setup. Plus Parker didn't like Y/n being there when she was.

All the better for Y/n really. She could just spend more time with Harry. Leo told her that he'd rent her a condo in the city after the New Year. He was feeling guilty for the whole Parker thing. She wondered what he'd think if he knew she was fucking his son.

They'd cross that bridge when they got to it.

Harry was already hard. Of course, he was. Any talk of sex with Y/n and he was raring to go almost immediately. With her mouth still pressed to his, she pushed him down, his back hitting the mattress as she reached over him and worked at his button.

His big, solid prick was so nice and warm in her hand once she pulled it out of his boxers. She'd slid his jeans down to his thighs and then brought the rest down with it so she could take him in her palm.

He gasped a laugh, "Hands are cold."

Y/n moaned as she kissed his neck and stroked him, "And your cock is gonna warm them right up."

Y/n slid her hand up and down his shaft slowly as she kissed his neck. By the time her hand was all warm, he was softly bucking his hips and moaning desperately.

"You ready to get your big cock fucked by my little present?"

He panted as he nodded, eyelids drooped as he rocked into her hand, "Okay but I want you more."

She grinned at him as she shifted and reached for the lube that she'd bought with the toy. Harry watched her get the silicone slippery for him, sliding her finger all around before she smeared the rest down his length, "You can have me all weekend. Right now, I want to see how good this feels on you. Want to watch you come."

Pulling his pants and boxers the rest of the way off his legs she lowered down to kiss at the top of his thigh and tease her lips close to his dick, her breath warming his base before she sat up and settled between his thighs, fleshlight in hand.

"You're such a good boy for me. Bend your legs a little more so you have enough leverage to thrust into it, okay?"

Harry did what she said, planting his feet flat and bending at the knees as she slowly pushed the opening of the toy over his tip. Right away he bucked upward to stuff the toy full but she pulled it upward and tsk'd at him, "Hold on. Let me get you all warmed up first, then you can go to down. Feel that?"

He grasped the blankets in his hand as she pressed it only over his tip, sliding it up and down in smooth strokes slowly.

"Fuck…" he groaned.

"Mmhmm… It's good, isn't it? Knew you'd like it."

He breathed out, "Yeah. But you're better…"

She grinned as she pushed the fleshlight down his cock further, "I know I am. Nothing beats a real, live, warm pussy."

Harry's thick shaft disappeared into the sleeve as she stroked him, the lube gushing as she fucked him with it. But when she finally pressed it all the way down to his base his tip came out the other end. His pink, mushroomed head looked so sweet, she couldn't help but lean down and kiss it, wrapping her lips just over the very tip before she sat back and continued working the toy over him.

Harry coughed out a moan as he looked from his girlfriend to the toy that was wrapped around his dick.

"You can fuck into it now. I'll keep my hand here to hold it steady."

His jaw was slack as he began rutting up. She loved watching how he did it. Sliding his thick shaft up and down, the tip poking out the back end before he'd draw it back in and feel the slippery silicone wrapped around him.

Harry watched the sleeve as he plunged into it and then looked up at Y/n with a moan. He wanted to be inside of her, not some plastic toy. Sure, the fleshlight felt good on him but Y/n's pussy was warm and the way she wet him and squeezed around him couldn't be replicated. There was no comparison.

He inhaled through his teeth when he fucked up again, his tip poking through as he throbbed and leaked a bead of precome. He worked his hips up and down, thigh muscles and glutes flexing, his balls pressing into the plastic edge of the toy.

Y/n moaned as she watched how filthy the scene was. Bulbous pink, lube-smeared crown pressed through the end as his abs flexed. His cheeks were heated, and his parted lips were puffy and pink as he arched his brows together and breathed out studdered breaths, his eyes on hers.

"Look at you. Barely fit in this little thing. Kind of a snug fit isn't it, baby?"

He groaned, his throat bobbing as he thrust up and reached for her hand, "Let me put it in you. Please."

She bit her lip and squeezed his hand, "Mmm… Just imagine it's me, Harry."

Y/n pulled her sweater upward and peeled it off her head before unplucking her bra hook to expose her tits to him. She placed her hand back on the toy to keep it in place as she leaned over him, breasts wobbling softly.

He moaned loudly as he watched her pretty breasts and tried his hardest to imagine he was fucking into her, to imagine she was on top of him with her warm pussy encasing his length. The bed springs under him bounced gently as he rocked his hips upward.

"Ooh… Fuck, you're so good. Getting me all wet just watching this."

He grabbed a palmful of her breast and squeezed as he clenched his teeth, nostrils flaring as he edged toward his release. His heart was fluttering so fast in his chest as he set his gaze on Y/n's, plunging his cock through the silicone and gasping as he began to twitch and his balls tightened.

A shaky breath fell from his chest as he reached for the back of her neck and pulled her down to kiss him. He moaned into her mouth as he began to come, a small spurt of sperm hit her tummy as he swung his hips upward and released, most of his come dripping down to his stomach.

Y/n moaned with him, sliding her tongue against his. Harry's heart hammered in his chest and he stilled his thrusts. He'd come so fast, it was pathetic. But he could always be vulnerable in front of Y/n without worry. She never made fun of him for it. Instead, he seemed to imagine that she kind of liked it.

And she did. It was quite flattering how worked up he'd get with her. To Y/n, it was a compliment.

"I take you liked your Christmas gift." She looked down at him, her palm cupping his cheek.

His chest was still heaving as he opened his eyes and nodded, cum all over his low tummy, "That was good. But I still like you better."

She bit her lip and pulled the toy from his dick, making him shiver, "Yeah? You think you can handle another round right now? Watching that got me all wound up."

The thing about Harry was, that he could often go twice in a row. Sometimes he'd come quite fast (he'd get too excited) and if she wasn't quite done she'd keep going and soon enough, Harry'd be right back in it, fucking another load into her after she finally came.

He panted and licked his lips as he pulled at her, "You know I can."

She pulled her jeans off and smiled at him before straddling his hips. He was still all messy as she stroked him gently, "Mmm… still hard for me too. Looks like it's gonna be a Merry Christmas for both of us."

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