#that second to last gif of him taunting

[ratatatastic]

the beautiful scenes of men who are getting way too competitive over a children's game part 489

washington capitals @ florida panthers | 11.25.24 (x)

[suni-writings]

Stop hating me.

jude bellingham x fem!reader

wc: 2.1k

+18!! mdni

(content warning: smut, fingering, unprotected sex [have safe sex pls])

ps: it's been a while since i wrote smut pls be nice about it

“Bellingham, we shouldn’t-”

“Save your regret for later, princess,” he cut her off, quickly finding her lips into a sloppy kiss.

Pinned against the wall, with his muscular body pressed against hers, she knew salvation wouldn’t come. There was no god, no force of the nature that could stop what was bound to happen. That could stop them.

“We both are going to regret this,” she mumbled between the kiss, her voice hoarse and low, panting. Why was she even trying to deny it?

“Jesus, princess. Can you shut your fucking mouth for a second?” He asked with a small smirk, his breath sparse. “So feisty. Always wanting to have the last word, always wanting to control everything…”

As the taunting words left Jude’s mouth, his right hand started moving slowly. From her neck to her collarbones, to the valley of her breasts, to her lower belly, applying just enough pressure to hear her pant once again. To hear her losing control, losing her morals and everything she had ever believed happened between them.

“Let it go,” he whispered in her ear, his plump lips brushing against her ear and gently biting her earlobe. “Let it go, doll. Let me take care of you.”

Everything was a mess. This wasn’t the moment nor the place for this to happen. She wasn’t even supposed to do as much as look at him. But something about his unbuttoned social shirt and his now wrinkled suit, the intoxicating smell of his expensive cologne and that goddamn smirk of his made her brain stop working, being guided by something so primal that she had yet to understand.

“It’s- a fucking club bathroom. Anyone could come in-”

Jude just groaned, annoyed and frustrated. He knew he had chosen the only woman who wouldn’t want to take him tonight – but he also knew that was merely a façade. If she thought he didn’t notice her lingering stares, the way she’d hold her breath next to him whenever she was slightly caught by surprise and the desire in her eyes, she was so wrong.

“Let them fucking come. They’ll see me and leave in the same instant. I don’t fucking care if there’ll be headlines about my behavior tomorrow.” He said, staring into her eyes, his tone firm. “Let me take care of you. Know you need it. See right through you, princess.”

She opened her mouth to come with a smart retort, but he was quicker. Jude’s hands went to the back of her thighs, suddenly pulling her and lifting her of the ground with ease. Guiding her to the sink countertop and gently placing her there – perhaps the only gentle act he had and would have throughout the night.

“The more you talk, the more I’ll want to shut you up,” he warned her with a husky tone, his finger under her chin to make sure she was looking at him. “And that’ll just make me tease you more and not give you what you want.”

She gulped and gave him a small nod. She’d never say it out loud, she’d never give him the pleasure of agreeing with him. So difficult, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. After all, he was more than pleased with the challenge of making her scream his name to prove otherwise.

“Good,” he said, his thumb tracing her bottom lip as she looked at him. Uncertainty, desire and frustration placed behind her eyelids. He could see all of that. “You’re so pretty. So desirable,” he whispered, his mouth so close to hers that she could feel his breath. “Wouldn’t want you spending the night with anyone else. It’d fucking kill me, princess.”

She barely remembered how they ended up in that bathroom. How they went from barely looking at each other to this closeness in the span of a few hours. She knew she had drunk as much as him – they wouldn’t be there otherwise. Not when they’ve always claimed to hate each other. If they were in their right minds, they wouldn’t even be in the same room.

She remembered having a man hitting on her as she drank. He was attractive, for sure, but nothing that would make her give him any attention. She remembered smoking her strawberry mango vape when Jude abruptly took it out of her hand when he wasn’t even that close a few moments before. His tight grip on her wrist, not enough to hurt her, but enough to keep it there, guiding her away from the man, was something she couldn’t forget.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She asked him with annoyance as he guided them to a more secluded spot. God, she hated admitting it, but he looked so good in formal clothes.

“Taking you away from that fucking douchebag that was eating you with his eyes,” he retorted, the anger clear in his tone as he gave her back her vape. She quickly put it in her purse. “You have to stop smoking that crap, as well.”

“I’m sorry, but since when did you feel entitle to control my life in any way whatsoever?” She asked with a sarcastic smile, annoyed at his attitude.

“If you think, for a second, I’d let you leave the club with that guy, with someone that’s not even close to your level-” he stopped once he realized what had said. He licked his lips and sighed, his hands resting on his waist as she looked at him with confusion.

“Who would be close to my level, then?” She asked with crossed arms, tilting her head.

Jude just gave her a small, cocky grin that he always carried with him. Thank God for his drinks, because only then he’d have the courage to retort her so easily.

“Who do you think, princess?”

After that, it was all blurry. A mix of tongues against each other, the taste of his strong drinks, his cologne, his hands pulling her closer. The anger, the frustration, the desire – until stumbling upon the bathroom because they had no other choice when lust controlled them so easily.

The feeling of the cold tiles of the countertop and Bellingham’s confession brought her back to the moment, looking into his eyes.

“I wasn’t going to leave the club with him,” she said, her eyes falling to his mouth. So, so close that she could reminisce the taste of it. “I wasn’t going to leave the club with anyone.”

Jude seemed rather pleased by her reply, his body finding a way to be even closer to hers. Despite always trying to say they hated each other; it was always the same – like magnets being drawn. All they had been doing, this whole time, was prolongating the inevitable. He was fucking tired of it.

“Good,” he whispered, his hand slowly travelling to the insides of her thighs, dangerously close to her warmth. She held back a whimper and he grinned at the sight. It was almost as if she was already coming undone from a single movement. “Wouldn’t want anyone but me to have the privilege.”

She looked up at Jude, suddenly realizing how big he was, how easily he was towering her and she could barely see past his long shoulders. With a sudden movement, her arms were now resting on his shoulders, caressing them.

“Need you to say it’s mine, darling. Would you do that for me, hm?” He whispered in her ear, expecting a tantrum, some remark to show how bratty she was. But his fingers were too close to her core for her to even come up with something that smart.

“That what is yours?,” was the best she could come up with, acting innocent despite the way her voice cracked.

Jude, in response, only looked deeply into her eyes as he pressed two fingers to her covered warmth, feeling the damp that was formed.

“That this is mine.” He spoke lowly, pressing his fingers even harder, earning a gasp from her as her eyelids shut, as if she was still trying to hold herself back. To gather some self-control.

“It’s yours,” she whispered. Jude thought about demanding her to speak louder, but it was already so much than he ever expected her to say.

His middle finger tossed her underclothing to the side, his index finger already moving over to her clits with enough pressure, in slow, circle motions.

“Already so wet, princess. All that denial and for what?” Bellingham chuckled lowly, almost as if as taunting her, as if his own underwear wasn’t feeling extremely tight. “Tell me what you want.”

She sighed. She had been holding back for so long that she decided that it wasn’t time to play around anymore.

“Want you to fuck me,” she said, looking into his deep brown eyes in a silent plea.

And how could he ever deny her anything when she was looking at him like that?

He inserted two digits into her core, moving them around her walls, trying to know which spot pleasured her the most just from the way she had to shut her eyelids strongly. She felt so warm and looked so desperate that the bulge in his pants became even more apparent, if that was possible.

“I wish I could just slam myself into you right now,” he whispered in her ear as his fingers began to distance from each other inside her, scissoring her slowly as she gasped. “But I need to get you prepped. Don’t want to hurt you that much.”

When Jude said, her eyes fell to the prominent bulge, realizing how big he actually was and whimpering just from imagining. He chuckled against her ear as she clenched around his fingers, knowing exactly what went on inside her head.

After realizing she was almost about to cum on his fingers, Jude took them off her and she whimpered again at the sudden emptiness. He sucked his fingers as the other hand undid his belt in a single, quick motion. She rushed to help to unbutton his pants, and even more eagerly to help him take his underwear off just enough so his cock would jump out.

As it sprung out, she watched it in all its rigidness. It was bigger than she expected, and his tip was already leaking with precum. It hit her, then, that Jude was just as vulnerable and desperate as she was.

Her hand quickly grabbed his cock, moving slowly and spreading his precum around it so her movements came with more ease. To his own surprise, he moaned, not being able to hold back anymore.

Jude gripped around her wrist, taking her hand away from his member and lining his hips with her entrance. His tip teased her once, twice, threatening to finally go inside her. Eager and impatient, she moved her hips, so he was finally inside her.

He moved slowly as she felt like she was burning from inside out, having a hard time adjusting to his size. As he finally bottomed inside her, Jude gave her some time to get used to it. When she gave him a small nod, that’s when he started moving.

“Shit,” he mumbled in her ear, trying his best to not go too hard. She clenched around him, whimpering and moaning, not bothering anymore to hide a single sound. It was driving him insane. “You feel so, so good.”

“Jude,” she called him out, her eyes closed. He thought it was the prettiest sight he had ever seen – her hair all messy, her dress wrinkled, panting and desperate. If he wasn’t in the same state, he would be taunting her. Usually, that was how he was. But, for some reason, it was different with her. He needed to be inside her.

He didn’t even realize when exactly his thrusts became harder and erratically. He only knew that because she was moaning his name more often, louder.

When he accidentally hit her sweet spot, she saw stars behind her eyes, arching her back and rolling her eyes. God, if she had more of this, she would drool. She couldn’t think – not at all, not when he was slamming into her walls like that.

“Jude, I’m-” she clenched tightly around him, and he moaned.

“I know, baby,” he was panting as well. He needed to make her cum, and perhaps, more desperately, to cum. He didn’t know for how long he could handle it. “Cum for me, princess. You’ve been such a good girl, taking my cock so well. Cum.”

It felt more like he was ordering than praising, but, as soon as she came, he spilled inside her walls.

“Fuck,” Jude said, trying his best to grab for air as his head fell to her shoulders. She caressed him softly. Even though they were both a mess and could barely breathe, he chuckled from her act. Smirking, he looked at her and said: “Was that all I needed to do for you to stop hating me?”

[incognit0slut]

Doctor Reid

PART 2 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Established Relationship Your boyfriend finally agrees to indulge in your fantasy by playing a very different kind of doctor, but on his own terms.

Content: (18+) 4k, roleplay, lingerie, finger sucking, nipple play, fingering, female oral, edging, soft!dom as per usual and him being what you guys like to call ‘a little shit’ a/n: season 12 Spencer can stay between my thighs all day every day. also, i have no knowledge on any medical terms this is just ✨vibes✨

10:34 AM

The box was heavier than you’d expected. It had been weeks since you’d ordered it—weeks of wondering if this would even get here without some awkward explanation. You’d agonized over every little detail, scrolling through pages of different costumes, wondering which stethoscope looked the most real.

And now it was finally here.

You didn’t waste a second. Your fingers worked quickly, ripping through the tape and cardboard until the contents spilled out. A crisp, folded white coat with perfectly pressed lapels and a stethoscope. And it was a real one, with cool metal tubing that felt heavy and authentic in your hand. Everything looked even better than you’d imagined.

You barely took the time to fold back the box flaps before hurrying to the next room, where your boyfriend sat comfortably on the couch, idly thumbing through a book.

“Spencer!” Your voice practically sang in excitement. “It’s here!”

He glanced up and lowered his book. "What's here?"

You grinned, bouncing on your toes as you closed the distance between you. "The doctor is officially in," you declared, holding up the white coat like a trophy, the stethoscope dangling from your other hand.

You watched as realization dawned across his face as he blinked a few times, processing the items in your hands, before letting out a soft, amused huff.

"Wow," he said slowly. "You really went all out."

"Of course I did,” you affirmed, grinning from ear to ear as you held the coat up to his chest, sizing him up as though he were already playing the part. “And it’s perfect.”

He leaned back into the couch, trying to put some distance between him and your infectious enthusiasm. “You know I’m not much of an actor.”

“Baby,” you drawled out, emphasizing the pet name with that affectionate tone you knew worked like a charm on him. It was the same sweet voice you used when you wanted something, the kind that could coax just about anything from him. “You’re not trying to win the Oscars, it’s sex. I promise you’ll like it.”

He shook his head like he was the most put-upon boyfriend in the world, letting out a mock sigh of exasperation, though the faint smile playing at the corners of his lips betrayed him. He closed his book and set it aside.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” he said at last, dragging the word out as though it physically pained him to say it. “If we do this on my own terms.”

“Your own terms? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll see. And,” he reached out, pinching the collar of the coat between his fingers. “I’m not wearing that.”

You pouted. “What, you don’t want to look like a real doctor?”

“I think I can pull it off without the costume.” He flashed you a smile. “I’m technically still a doctor.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “Your multiple doctorates don’t exactly qualify you for this, Doctor Reid.”

“I thought having six degrees would be enough for anything.”

“Too bad none of them is needed now,” you shot back, poking a finger at his chest playfully. “The role I’m thinking of requires a different kind of expertise. More…” You paused, pretending to mull it over, “Hands-on. Less theoretical.”

The laugh he let out was short and incredulous, his eyebrows raising as if he couldn’t believe your persistence. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

You sighed dramatically. “Babyyyy.”

“You know, one of these days that tone isn’t going to work on me.”

“Oh, please, you love it,” you taunted, leaning in closer. “And don’t act like you’re not curious about this.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, and you could practically see the wheels turning in his head, weighing the pros and cons, debating just how far he’d let you push him. And then there it was, that spark in his eyes. Faint but undeniable—the one that told you he was already half convinced, even if he pretended otherwise.

“Alright, fine,” he finally conceded. “I’ll play along.”

The grin you wore was at least a mile wide as you shoved the stethoscope into his hand.

1:52 PM

“Okay. I’m ready.”

Spencer looked up from his stack of papers, and as soon as he saw you standing there, dressed in nothing but lacy lingerie that clung to every curve, his mouth fell open. He blinked, trying to process the sight. Because yes, while you looked incredibly sexy, he was still baffled.

“Since when does a patient wear... that?"

You stepped closer, letting his eyes follow your every move as you shrugged with a hint of feigned innocence in your smile. "Well, I thought I'd save you some time, you know? Make it easier for your examination."

"Mm-hmm," he hummed thoughtfully, tapping a finger against his desk. "I'm not so sure this is standard procedure. I think you might be bending the rules here."

"Maybe. But I'm sure Doctor Reid can make a special exception, right?“

You shifted slightly, arching your back just enough to draw his attention. His eyes dropped to your chest, and for a moment, his breath caught in his throat as he noticed the way your nipples strained against the sheer, barely-there fabric of your lingerie. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to suppress a smile, but it broke through anyway. A slow, knowing grin spread across his face.

“Of course,” he finally replied. “I think I can be persuaded.”

With that, he leaned forward, sweeping his documents to the side in one smooth motion, before patting the now-cleared space on the desk in front of him.

“Take a seat, Miss,” he said, his voice turning low and authoritative that lit a spark of excitement inside you. “Let’s get started.”

You bit your bottom lip, fighting back a grin as the cool wood of the desk pressed against the backs of your thighs. You watched Spencer stand up and slip between your legs, his hands finding your knees and spreading them just enough to close the distance until the heat of his body was flushed against yours.

“So, tell me,” he started, his voice lowering as he fell into the role. “What seems to be the problem today?”

A flutter of nerves danced in your stomach, and suddenly you were very aware of what was happening. You’d initiated this—had begged for it, even—but it was something entirely different now that Spencer was towering over you. The confidence you’d felt earlier wavered for just a moment as his palms ran slowly up your thighs.

“I, uh,” your voice faltering slightly as his hands continued their slow journey. “I… I haven’t been feeling well.”

His fingers brushed lightly against the frills of your lingerie, teasing the lace between his fingers as he maintained eye contact. “Any symptoms I should know about? Dizziness? Shortness of breath?”

You nodded, heart pounding in your chest as his thumb traced small circles over the fabric. “All of the above.”

“I see.” His eyes flickered down to your lips. “Can you open your mouth for me?”

Slowly, you parted your lips, and the moment you did, Spencer’s hand came up to your chin. He tilted your head back gently, exposing the graceful line of your throat.

“I’m going to run a few tests now.” He paused, his thumb brushing lightly over your bottom lip. “It might feel intense, but I need you to stay relaxed and follow my instructions. Can you do that, Miss?”

You nodded as best as you could, mouth still open, and he gave you a small, approving smile.

“Stick your tongue out for me, just a little bit.”

You followed his instructions, extending your tongue just far enough to meet his touch. His eyes gleamed with focus as he brought his thumb to your mouth, pressing it lightly against your tongue.

“Hm,” he hummed, his eyes still fixed on your mouth like he was about to make a serious diagnosis. “I think I might be starting to see the problem here. But I need to check one more thing. Can you close your mouth around my finger?”

You complied, your lips wrapping around his thumb, feeling the rough pad of it pressing down on your tongue.

“Good,” he sighed, the approval in his voice like a reward in itself. “Now try giving it a gentle suck.”

You could feel the tension rising in you. Your cheeks hollowed as you did what he asked, and you couldn’t help but think back to the hesitation in his voice earlier, the way he’d claimed he wasn’t sure about this, that he wasn’t good at playing roles. You would’ve laughed if your mouth wasn’t occupied.

But you were an obedient patient, after all. You started sucking lightly, feeling the weight of his thumb resting against your tongue. There was something undeniably arousing about how he watched you, eyes heavy with focus, and that steady weight of his finger as he pretended to assess your reaction.

The first rush of arousal made itself known between your legs. You gradually increased the pressure, and before you knew it, you were bobbing your head. But just as you fell into a steady rhythm, his hand tightened on your chin to stop you.

“Just as I suspected,” he murmured after a moment, pulling his thumb away slightly to speak. “You’re suffering from an acute sensitivity.”

You swallowed, eyes wide as you played along, trying to keep your composure despite the heat pooling low in your stomach. “Is… is that serious?”

“I’ll need to do a further examination to understand the extent of your condition,” he mused, his eyes flickering between your face and your body as if assessing you before he straightened up slightly. “Let’s check your vitals now.”

He reached behind you, fingers brushing your lower back as he grabbed the stethoscope that had been sitting on the desk all day, the one you’d practically begged him to use. His expression turned serious, as though he were truly diagnosing you, and he leaned in close, pressing the flat side of the stethoscope against the pulse point on your neck.

“Deep breaths,” he instructed softly. You inhaled sharply, feeling the tension coil tighter in your chest as the cool metal made contact with your skin. “Your heart rate is definitely elevated.”

He moved the stethoscope lower, brushing it along your collarbone, before pressing it just above your heart. You felt the thump, thump, thump of your pulse echo through the metal.

“Definitely fast,” he noted. “We might need to find out what’s causing such a reaction.”

And before you could respond, without warning, he moved the stethoscope lower, pressing the cold metal against your nipple. You let out a soft, involuntary moan as the sensation caught you off guard.

“Ah,” he muttered, tilting his head as if he were genuinely analyzing your response, his thumb grazing the lace-covered peak around the stethoscope. “I think we’ve found one of the pressure points.”

You watched as his fingers trailed up to the edge of your lingerie, dragging his knuckles along the lace before he tugged the fabric down, letting your breast spill free. Without a word, he pressed the stethoscope directly against your bare nipple. The sudden contact made you jolt, your back arching as a quiet whimper slipped from your lips, and your nipple hardened instantly under the cold metal.

“Heightened sensitivity to stimuli.” He moved the stethoscope in small circles. “Very, very responsive.”

His eyes flickered down as he used his free hand to tug down the other side of your lingerie, exposing your other breast. You tried to keep your cool, tried to pretend like his touch wasn’t turning you inside out, but it was getting harder by the second. And God, he knew it. The way he played with your other nipple, rolling it slowly between his thumb and forefinger like he had all the time in the world, was enough to make your thoughts scatter.

You tried so hard to keep your composure, but then he gently pinched and tugged on your sensitive nub, and a soft, breathy whine escaped your lips before you could stop it. With a satisfied grin, he pulled away.

You blinked, momentarily dazed. “What—?” you breathed out. “Why did you stop?”

“Medical procedure,” he said simply, his tone so casual it almost made you forget the heat of his touch moments earlier. “It’s important to give the patient time to stabilize.”

You shot him a bewildered, almost exasperated look that said are you serious right now? But he just smiled that slow, self-assured smile of his. He was clearly enjoying this far too much.

“We’re doing this my way, remember?”

You huffed in mock annoyance. “Really? That’s how we’re playing this?”

He brushed his lips on your shoulder. “That’s how we’re playing."

5:22 PM

“Doctor Reid?”

Spencer glanced up from where he was pouring himself a cup of coffee. He raised an eyebrow, casually stirring a hefty amount of sugar, the spoon clinking softly against the mug. “Hmm?”

The coolness of the counter pressed against your back as you watched him. “I think it’s getting worse.”

He didn’t say anything right away, just let his gaze rake over you, taking note of the way the thin fabric of your lingerie clung to your skin.

“Worse, how?” he finally asked, setting his mug down.

“It’s… spreading.”

“Spreading?” He mused. “Where, exactly?”

“Everywhere.” Your fingers nervously toyed with the hem of your lingerie, lifting it just enough to show a glimpse of bare skin beneath. “I really need your help, Doctor.”

His eyes immediately zeroed in on the sliver of skin you revealed. You watched as the realization flashed across his face. The corner of his mouth twitched as though he was fighting back a satisfied smirk, and you knew then that he’d taken the bait—he had to confirm just how bare you really were.

“Come here,” he ordered softly. He stepped back from the counter just enough to make space. “If it’s spreading, I have to conduct a full-body assessment.”

You slowly made your way to him with shaky legs.

“Up,” he instructed, giving the counter a gentle pat before letting his hands settle on your hips. “Sit.”

The cool marble touched the backs of your thighs as you hoisted yourself up. Then, without warning, Spencer’s hands were on your legs. He grabbed your calves, and before you could even catch your breath, he maneuvered your knees apart, placing the palms of your feet flat onto the countertop.

His eyes dropped between your legs, and the sight of you completely bare, your pussy lips glistening under the dim light, confirmed what he’d suspected. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip as he took in every detail, the way you were flushed, open, and dripping.

“Is there a reason,” he began slowly, his voice dropping to that dangerously soft, detached tone. “Why you’re not wearing anything underneath?”

“I… I thought it might make the examination easier.”

He smiled. “How considerate.”

Then with painstaking slowness, Spencer used both thumbs to part your folds, spreading you open completely to his gaze. It was almost clinical, the way he did it, as if he were studying you like some fascinating experiment. And it was working. You could feel the heat of embarrassment rushing in your veins. God, he had you spread open like this in your kitchen counter, and all you could think was how absolutely shameless this was.

He took his time, of course. Because why wouldn’t he? Spencer Reid didn’t rush experiments. No, he would spend all the time in the world analyzing, learning, committing every detail to memory. And right now, that focus was on you. He dragged his fingertips through your arousal, spreading it leisurely over your folds like he was testing its consistency, as if that slick heat was something he could measure and quantify.

And all you could do was hold your breath.

“I have to say,” he started again, his voice low and taunting as his fingers slid back and forth slowly, grazing just over your entrance without actually dipping inside. “You’re overly lubricated. Are you always like this?”

You exhaled a long breath, trying to steady the rapid rhythm of your heart. “Y-Yes.”

Spencer's smile deepened, his gaze never leaving your face as he pressed just a bit harder, testing your reaction. “Interesting. Do you get this wet from just a little touch, or does it have to be… more?”

“J-Just a little,” you admitted, hips instinctively shifting toward his fingers.

“Mmm,” he hummed approvingly, and finally—finally—he let his finger slide just inside your entrance, only to stop right there, buried to the first knuckle. He didn’t move any further. “Is that all it takes? Or do you need more to truly feel the effects?”

“I...” You let out a whimper when his finger twitched inside you. "M-More."

“And how much more, exactly? One finger? Two?”

“Two,” you gasped, every coherent thought slipping away under his touch. “Two… Doctor.”

A satisfied smile tugged at his lips, and without another word, he obliged, slipping a second finger inside you. The stretch made you bite back a moan as you felt every inch of him dragging against your inner walls. You couldn’t help the way your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers, pulling him deeper as your slick arousal coated every thrust.

“You’re even more responsive than I thought,” he noted, adjusting his angle to brush against that sensitive spot inside you. “Your partner must enjoy this… a lot.”

He was playing his role all too well. Your fingers gripped the edge of the counter as his speed picked up. "He... He does," you breathed out. "He—he loves it."

Spencer hummed thoughtfully. "Good," he said softly, almost as if to himself. "Because this is a very special condition that requires a great deal of attention. And I'm sure that you need all the attention you can get, don't you?"

“Yes,” you sighed, nodding frantically as the pleasure built in steady waves. “I… I need it.”

"I thought so. Patients with your symptoms typically respond very well to intensive treatment."

With that, his fingers began to thrust deeper, faster, harder. The sensation of his long fingers stretching you had you moaning as you felt every drag, every inch while he continued to work you open. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more intense, he pressed a thumb firmly against your clit.

“Oh, fuck.”

He circled your swollen nub in slow, delicious patterns, and your body clenched around his fingers. This was it. You could feel it. The way your pulse pounded in your ears, the heat pooling deep in your core, every sensation building higher and higher. You could feel that sweet, sweet edge approaching, so close you could practically taste it—

And then he stopped.

Everything. Stopped.

“Spencer!”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t rush to soothe the ache in your body. He simply slid his fingers out of you, leaving you clenching around nothing.

“Open your mouth.”

You parted your lips, and he slipped his fingers inside, letting you taste yourself. The mix of your own slick and the heat of his skin made you moan softly, your tongue swirling around his fingers

“You see, you can be very responsive,” he commented in a low, measured tone. “But I think we should take a break, rushing the treatment would only compromise the results.”

He said it like it was the most reasonable thing in the world, like he wasn’t purposefully doing this to drive you insane. You wanted to laugh, and you did. But it was a defeated, breathless sort of laugh around his fingers, because you knew the man settled between your thighs still held all the power over you.

08:56 PM

“Babe?”

He laughed softly, not even glancing up from the book he was reading. “No more Doctor?”

You ignored the amusement in his voice as you walked up to the bed where he lay sprawled out, so casually composed, flipping another page like he hadn’t spent the entire day driving you mad. You reached the edge of the mattress, shadow casting over him, and his eyes finally flicked up to meet yours.

“I wanna cum.”

Spencer’s smile widened, the kind that made your stomach flip with both excitement and irritation, and he placed the book down beside him. His hand reached out lazily to brush your thigh.

“Yeah?” he drawled, tilting his head to the side. “Does my sweet girl want to be taken care of?”

You nodded eagerly. “Please.”

“Well, I do like it when you ask nicely,” he muttered, one hand sliding up to grip your waist. “And you’ve been very patient all day.”

“I have.”

“I think you deserve it.”

“I do.”

He let out an amused laugh. “Alright, lay down on the bed.”

You didn’t hesitate. You quickly shifted, lying back against the pillows. Spencer’s hands were on you immediately, gripping your thighs and dragging you toward the edge of the mattress. The room spun for a moment when he settled onto his knees. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, his fingers squeezing your calf as he pressed a soft, teasing kiss against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“Comfortable?”

You nodded, and just as the breath left your lungs, his fingers brushed against the slick, wet folds of your pussy. He traced the outline of your lips gently, gathering the moisture that had been building all day.

“Poor baby,” he cooed sympathetically, his breath ghosting over your wetness. And just when you thought you couldn’t take another moment of teasing, he pressed his tongue flat against you and licked a long strip from your entrance to your clit.

A desperate whine escaped your lips. “Please…”

Spencer didn’t miss a beat. He licked another long, languid strip to your clit, swirling his tongue around it before flattening it again, dragging slowly just to savor the way you trembled beneath him. One of his hands gripped your thigh firmly, keeping your leg steady over his shoulder, while the other slid underneath, lifting your hips closer to his mouth.

And when he finally wrapped his lips around your clit again, pulling it into his mouth with a gentle suck, a choked moan tore from your throat.

“Spencer,” you whimpered. “Oh god…”

The vibration of his low groan reverberated through you. His fingers gripped your thighs tightly, holding you open and pinned beneath him. You weren’t sure what was more overwhelming. The sensation of his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit or the wet, obscene sounds of him slurping against your soaked folds. Either way, it was driving you wild, pushing you closer and closer to that edge where everything blurred and all you could do was feel.

And then his tongue shifted, dipping lower to probe your entrance. He pushed inside, exploring, seeking, like he was determined to reach every possible inch of you. And damn it, it felt like he could. Each thrust and twist of his tongue sent a surge of delicious heat through your body, and you couldn’t help the way your thighs trembled against his shoulders, squeezing him tighter.

You could barely breathe as the tension coiled tighter, so fucking tight you thought you might snap. And he knew it—he could feel it, the way your walls clenched around his tongue, the way your thighs trembled against his shoulders. And still, he didn’t let up, thrusting his tongue into you deeper, faster, while his nose rubbed insistently against your clit.

He kept going, over and over, tasting you like you were the only thing that could satisfy his hunger. It was too much and yet not enough, and soon you couldn’t stop the desperate chant of his name spilling from your lips. You weren’t even sure what you were pleading for anymore—more? mercy?—all you knew was that you on the brink of falling apart.

One last stroke was enough to shatter you completely.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly you came, but with the way he was working you over, you didn’t stand a chance. The moment you felt yourself tip over, everything broke—your body tensed, your back arched sharply off the bed, and a loud moan tore from your lips. It was like your body had a mind of its own, hips grinding desperately against his mouth as if seeking every last bit of friction you could steal.

And when you finally came down, you were a breathless, panting mess. Spencer gave your clit one final, teasing suck, before he pulled back. He crawled up your body, hands sliding up your sides to push your lingerie higher. Gentle, warm kisses tickled your stomach as he threw you a smug look that only he could pull off.

“How was that,” he murmured, pausing to kiss just beneath your ribs. “For your little fantasy?”

Mind-blowing. Intense. Better than I imagined.

“Well,” you managed to say, fingers tangling into his hair. “If that’s how you plan on treating me, Doctor, I might just have to get sick more often.”

Spencer’s lips curved into a knowing smirk against your skin, and he nipped gently at your side.

“I think it’s best for you to do a regular check-up, then,” he teased, letting his lips ghost over your skin as he crawled further up, settling his body over yours. “Doctor’s orders.”

You couldn’t stop the soft, breathless laugh that escaped your lips as you pulled him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his mouth.

You’d be more than happy to comply.

[moonlight-prose]

I saw that prompt list you reblogged and so if you’re looking for logan ideas i really liked:

10) finding their partner’s sex toy/toys and making them play with it in front of them

Love your fics btw too!!! 💜💜

hunger

a/n: oh my brain went to mush at this one. like actively i've lost brain cells and am currently scrounging to find more. this is basically me being a horny bitch for this man. (possibly cause i'm ovulating). but that's okay. we're all here to do the exact same thing!

summary: things are set into motion the second logan opens your drawer. suddenly you find yourself the center of a show with only one audience member.

word count: 1.7k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, mutual masturbation, overstimulation, hints at oral (f receiving), cigar smoking, voyeurism, dirty talk, he's so filthy i blushed writing this.

Accidental was far from the word he'd use to describe the current situation. He'd rather say it was intentional. At least that's what it felt like when you sent him to your drawer for a pair of clean boxers you stole from him in the first few weeks of dating. Logan was used to the act. Finding his flannels strewn throughout your closet—his leather jacket draped across the foot of your bed like a fancy throw blanket.

He felt it before he saw it. The soft silicone feel of something small—an uninteresting object he normally would have overlooked. He pushed it out of the way at first, mistaking it entirely for the little portable charger you usually keep by the bed.

Only for it to roll to the side, the button hitting the drawer. A loud buzz drew his attention close within seconds. His hand grasping the small vibrator and flicking it off with a smirk. A look he wore when the choice to fuck you into the mattress solidified in his mind.

"Hey what's taking so long?" You stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel—water droplets streaming off your naked body, forming a small puddle on the hardwood floors of your shared bedroom.

He close his fist around the small device when he stood, holding the clothes you were waiting for. Logan watched you smile, reach for his hand, and stop short as his other palm opened—revealing the black little toy you only kept for emergencies.

For nights when he was called on a mission that might land them in deep waters for days on end. You never minded—it was part of the job after all—but telling Logan that you fucked yourself in your spare time to ease the thoughts of him that plagues you...wasn't an easy conversation to have. Yet there it was. Staring directly at you; taunting you with the knowledge that he found it before you could locate a better hiding spot.

"Got somethin' to tell me bub?"

Your mouth dried at the sight of his grin—nostrils flaring as your scent sharpened in the air. Thicker than before; the tell tale sign that you weren't angry or irritated. But interested in where he might take this.

Before you could snatch it from his hands, he tossed the clothes back into the still open drawer. His smile on deepening at the sight of your swallow—the steady thrum of your heart now a quick flutter under your chest. There was no hiding how you felt with him. Not when he was so in tune with your body it nearly scared you.

He could smell the pool of slick that began to form in between your clenched thighs. The sharp breath you sucked in giving him enough confirmation to keep going. You wanted this—him. And though he could never understand why, he rarely questioned it.

So he nodded towards the bed, dragging the chair you kept at your desk over to sit a foot away from where you were perched. Your hand still clutching the towel and eyes stuck on the vibrator in his hold.

Logan lowered himself with a sigh—legs spread and body relaxed as your eyes trailed down his stomach to the thick expanse of his thighs. Last night you were perched on one, reduced to a whiny moaning mess as he dragged you along the rough denim. Watching you work yourself into a high that left you immobile.

His head tilted, gaze dragging down your body, tongue swiping out to wet his bottom lip. "You aren't gonna need the towel bub," he rasped.

"I don't know what we're doing."

"Don't you trust me?" You nodded quicker than you expected. "Then drop it and spread those pretty legs for your old man."

A soft whimper barely legible above your gasp echoed in the room. Logan heard it as if you pressed it directly to his ear. You scooted back on the bed, the towel now forgotten and dropped to the floor. He shifted at the sight of your feet pushed against the soft comforter, your cunt on full display for him to view.

"There we go," he murmured.

Your hand slipped down, sliding through your slick for barely a second before he was clicking his tongue. "That's not what I want."

"B-but you said-"

"I said spread 'em. Not touch your pretty little clit."

"Logan," you breathed, fighting the pull that demanded you find some sort of relief. Even if that came in the form of your own touch.

He merely lounged in the chair, smiling at how you battled with yourself in order to be good for him. Oh how he loved the sight of your brows pulled together—need eating away at the very core of your body. If he was a better man he'd let you choose what to do.

He'd follow your lead.

But that remained something he never excelled at.

"Don't worry. She'll get the attention she needs." He leaned over you, placing the familiar device between your breasts—a kiss quickly snuck against your nipple that peaked under the wet heat of his mouth. "I'm real interested in how you use this sweetheart. Show me?"

The breath escaped you with a punch to your stomach as he settled back in his previous spot. You glanced at him—heat spilling beneath your cheeks—and felt a wave of slick drip down to the bed at the sight of him pulling a cigar free. He cut the end off, stuck it between his teeth, and flicked the lighter on with practiced ease.

This was a show and he remained the only audience member.

"Go on," he mumbled, smoke unfurling past his lips. "Be a good girl."

With a shaky breath, you gingerly picked up the vibrator and turned it on. This was second nature to you now. Laying in bed with your legs spread as you listened to the buzzing sound that would bring you your desired orgasm. You'd been here before. You would no doubt be here again.

Only this time Logan paid attention to every minuscule movement. He clung to the way you slid your hand down and pressed the end of it to the very top of your clit. Almost as if you were the best fucking program he had the privilege to watch.

Instead of the rush of sweaty embarrassment you almost expected. You were greeted with a boost of pride at the sound of his harsh groan. The chair creaking under his weight as he shuffled to find some relief for his growing cock.

"How's it feel bub?" he breathed, inhaling another drag from his cigar.

You sighed, high pitched and needy. "Good."

"Yeah?" He shifted again when you slid the vibrator through the lips of your cunt, a moan spilling past your parted lips. "Fuck. You normally take your time with it?"

Nodding, you dragged it back up to your clit, teasing yourself with small circles. "F-Feels better like this."

That familiar tug in your gut began to grow the longer you held it against yourself, building quicker than before. You knew it was on account of him watching you. Licking his lips and white knuckling his cigar to keep from sliding his tongue through your slick. You had half a mind to beg him. To see if you could get him to break.

The minute you slipped it down further and plunged it into your tight walls was enough for him. He snapped with a feral grunt. His hands working the belt buckle of his jeans—a whisper of his zipper being tugged down—before his cock sprang free. The tip red and shiny with precum.

You moaned at the sight, legs trembling as you pumped the vibrator clumsily into your cunt. "Touch yourself," you gasped, stomach going taut. "Please. Need to see you baby."

"Fuck sweetheart. Gonna make me cum like a fuckin' teenager." He spit loudly into his palm, slicking up his cock with a heady moan.

"P-Pretty," you slurred.

"Look whose talkin'," he huffed. The cigar now clamped between his teeth.

The intensity of his gaze only grew when you replaced the device with two of your fingers. Rapidly working them in tandem with the buzzing on your swollen clit. Sparks shot down your spine, heat clamping tight around your stomach. What time you thought remained now worked its way to an eviscerating crescendo.

"Your creamin' around your fingers bub," he grunted, the wet slap of his hand blending with the echo of your cunt. "Want to lick you clean after this."

Your walls fluttered, heart leaping to your throat. "Can I suck your cock?"

A ragged moan filled the empty spaces that lay between. "Can't say no to you."

"Logan," you mewled. "'M gonna-"

He snarled, abruptly sitting forward, hand still working his cock in rapid strokes. "C'mon. Cum for me. Give me a show."

The string holding you together broke in two, flooding your body with bliss and turning your vision blurry. His name was a broken cry torn from your throat—hips canting up into your touch as you pushed the vibrator harder against your clit. Until the pleasure began to seep into pain. A whimper echoed in the room when you pulled away, legs falling to dangle off the bed—body now entirely spent.

The soft press of his lips against your knee jolted you slightly; the nerves under your skin still sensitive. He dropped to the floor, eyes latched onto the way your entrance fluttered, cum now forming a mess between your thighs.

"Made such a pretty mess for me bub."

You sighed, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips. "You like it?"

Wet open mouth kisses trailed along your inner thigh, his nose pressed to the curls above your center. "I fuckin' love it," he sighed, inhaling your heady scent with a groan.

"It's yours."

You gasped when his tongue slid along your cunt, thumbs spreading you to reach every fucking inch. "Yes it is." He pressed a kiss to each lip, sucking them into his mouth as if he was kissing you. "All fuckin' mine."

[an-idyllic-novelist]

Ken "Okarun" Takakura relationship headcanons

warnings: established relationship, fem!reader, tooth-rooting fluff, spoilers up to episode 8 in the anime.

divider by @cafekitsune

Ken “Okarun” Takakura is a socially awkward guy with an all-consuming interest in anything related to the supernatural, especially cryptids and aliens. Some people may think he is too much to handle because he’s a nerd or his appearance is a little off-putting, but he’s used to that after being bullied throughout elementary and middle school. He can handle the taunting, the jeers. It’s nothing new to him.

But when he hears a nasty rumor being spread around school about you, his precious girlfriend? Momo is going to have a hard time keeping him calm and will definitely drag you away from class as a last resort to revert the transformation into his yokai form. Good luck with handling an extremely overprotective boyfriend, especially if you unintentionally get caught in the crossfire of whichever ghost or alien are targeting him for his reproductive organs.

He doesn’t know why everyone is after his junk, so please do not ask him that question.

You are important to Okarun, so his happiness is your happiness. He’s not really a person who would do over-the-top gestures just to make you smile, though he shows his affection for you in the small things like leaving little snacks on your assigned desk or waiting to walk home with you once classes are over for the day.

Physical intimacy with him is going to be like a slow-burn in those romance novels, so please respect his boundaries and decision to relish in the feeling of your interlocked fingers or sharing kisses on the cheek before going into the heavier stuff. He’s shy and wants to do things the right way, even when every relationship is different for everyone. If you start something instead of him for a change? His face will resemble a ripe cherry, and smoke will come out of his ears before squeaking in embarrassment.

Cuddles? Definitely possible, but much further down the road once he gets more comfortable in the relationship.

He’s the guy who doesn’t mind doing an X-Files or horror movie marathon on the couch with you and it counts as a date. Any time with you is precious.

You have a part-time job? No worries, he’ll be more than happy to wait until you get off if you’re working late to walk you home!

Okarun trusts you, and he hopes you will trust him. Communication is also key, so if there is something bothering you, please tell him. He won’t know unless you say something, and you avoiding or giving him the silent treatment will have him second-guessing and thinking he really isn’t good enough for you. He’s a green flag. Seriously, talk to the guy if you got troubles on your mind. He will listen and not judge you.

Remember what happened when Aira tried to kiss him in the school courtyard during lunch and he pushed her away? He did it once, and will gladly do it again to her, to any girl who tries to make a move on him because he doesn’t want them. He wants only you.

Treasure this cinnamon roll and treat him like the amazing person he is, because there is no other guy around who would fight yokai and aliens to protect you like Ken Takakura.

Taglist: @hoodiepandaninja16 @napbatata @silverklaus @karai-frost @anonymity-222 @melodiblues @myduality @cumbersome-robes @taesy-miranda-lee @osarumi @satorousgf @theofficialfem @sadprimrose @miaurieee @bumblebeebutter @shidousprincess @minnie-1-3 @cherie-soup @kazudare @sleep-all-day-everyday @decay-1 @justamegafan @bdudette @skwunkler

[floatyflowers]

Dark! House Of The Dragon x Game of Thrones! Reader|Part 3

<<< Part 2

Jacaerys is in love with the idea of being a father.

In fact he took Aemma riding on the back of Vermax right after she was born just like his great grandmother Alyssa did with Viserys, just for excitement.

Rhaenyra, loves Aemma and teared up when you named the baby after her mother, she even thought about wedding Aegon III to her when they reached adulthood.

After arriving to King's Landing, the first thing you see is Aemond training while you stand beside Jace and Luke watching him, as you hold your sleeping daughter in your arms.

Jacearys felt jealous on how Aemond took away your attention.

Despite, the real reason why you are impressed by Aemond's skills, is because it reminded you of your uncle/father Jaime, you always loved to watch him train.

While training Aemond notices you and stops, eyeing you and the baby intensely which made you uncomfortable.

All Aemond could feel was anger and jealousy, because you were supposed to be his.

When Vaemond arrives, you prepare yourself and your daughter, you show up dressed in the colors of House Velaryon.

"Vaemond has forgotten that Lady Rhaenys descends from the house Baratheon on her mother's side, Also my daughter, princess Aemma..."

You stand in the middle of the throne room, holding your daughter up proudly for everyone to see her white hair and purple eyes.

Even if you and Jace are the children of Harwin Strong, but your daughter inherited Rhaenyra's appearance, your mother's genes skipped a generation.

Vaemond, decided to insult you and call you and your mother 'whores' as you return back to your husband and mother's side.

Of course, in a spin of seconds, Daemon sliced the Velaryon's man head in half, as Jacaerys blocked yours and Aemma's view.

However, Jace was smirking, happy at what his stepfather did.

Later that day at the feast, Jace and Luke made a promise to you that they would behave and ignore whatever Aemond and Aegon say.

When Jace asked to dance with you at the feast, you objected, insisting on him dancing with Helaena instead.

Aegon and Aemond thought that your marriage wasn't the best with your twin due to how you turned Jace down.

Things escalated when the pig gets placed on the table and Luke whispers a joke in your ear at the exact moment, making you laugh.

Even though the joke wasn't about Aemond, but Luke knew exactly what he was doing as he smirked at his uncle...taunting him.

"Final tribute, to the health of my nephews, Jace, Luke, and Joffrey, each of them handsome, wise...and Strong"

Before Jace and Luke could even think about getting angry, you raise a glass with a huge smile on your face.

"Indeed, Uncle, we are strong afterall, my brothers and I descend from the two purest Valyrian houses, Targaryen and Velaryon, my mother is also the heir to the seven kingdoms"

Your grandfather Tywin taught you how to act wisely in such situations.

Aemond wished to speak more, but one look from Daemon was enough to let him know that you are a red line.

However, Aemond only gave you one last stare, as if to make a promise.

A promise where he will have you as a wife.

Part 4>>>

[shotmrmiller]

A/N: I simply had to join on writing for John 'just the tip' MacTavish so. Here goes. Unedited, its horny its explicit yall know the deal. It was supposed to be a drabble and i got completely carried away. got me out the writing slump tho. any mistakes please ignore. CBF!Johnny because I say so.

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader

WC: 1.6K

Flipping through Netflix, you hear a rapt at the door. You turn to look at your dad, who gets up quickly as if expecting someone. 

“Johnny, my boy! I’m glad you could make it! Had me thinking you forgot all about us. Come on in!” Your dad pulls Johnny in for an affectionate embrace that he returns immediately.

“Och, yer aff yer heid! As if I could ever forget my second family!” Giving your dad a final pat on the back, Johnny steps back. “Now where’s my girl?” 

Lifting the hand holding the remote, you call out. “Present!” 

Johnny almost trips over the coffee table, rushing to you. He doesn’t wait for you to stand up, just snatches your wrist and lifts you for a hug— your socked feet dangling by his shins. With his strong arms wrapped around you, he pulls you close, nuzzling his face against your neck. “Missed ye, bonnie,” he murmurs, “missed ye so much.” 

As you exhale a wheezy breath, you tell him, “I love you too, Johnny, but I can’t breathe.” One last squeeze, and a squealed “Johnny!” he finally relents, setting you down. 

Hands resting on your shoulders, his striking blue eyes lock onto your face, flicking across your features, as if he was re-memorizing what you look like. His intense gaze rushes blood to your cheeks, but don’t shrink under it. It wouldn’t be the first time your best friend teases you like this. “Somethin’ on my face, Johnny boy?” and bat your lashes at him, “I know I’m staggering to look at, but now you’re just being shameless.” 

He lets out a huff, a small smirk gracing his lips, and mumbles, “Don’t I know it.” Your taunting smile falls off your face at that. What? Before you can even ask him what he means by that, your dad calls him into the kitchen. 

“Johnny! Come get a beer, it’s about to be movie time!” Without breaking eye contact, he answers him, “Aye! Comin’!’ and with a finger tap to the underside of your chin, walks away. Heart pounding against your chest, you head towards your bedroom to get a blanket, hoping the little walk calms the butterflies in your stomach. 

What?

The movie is playing, and Johnny is curled up behind you on the reclined sofa, roughened palm resting on your thigh, occasionally squeezing it. You’re mortified at the slight arousal you’re feeling just at being caressed by Johnny. Johnny. Your best friend. Who has consistently had girlfriends, who will never look at you that way. You’ve never thought of him that way either, granted, but that’s what makes this so embarrassing. Maybe you’re ovulating, biology simply reacting in the presence of a virile male, or something. 

And then you feel the unmistakable bulge of his stiffening cock, faintly pressing against your arse. Gods. Heat radiating off of your face, you bite your lip and try to discreetly wiggle away, for his sake and yours. However, Johnny seems to disagree with your thoughts because he moves his hand from your thigh to grab your hips in a bruising grip, fingers digging into your hipbones, forcing you to be still.

He leans into your ear, warm breath tickling your cheek and softly whispers, “Dinnae move, hen,” and sluggishly starts to rock his hips, erection now firmly rubbing against your sleeping shorts. Johnny’s movements are imperceptible, nonexistent underneath your blanket. Not that it would matter, because the movie is reaching its climax, and all eyes are glued to the screen.

But your mind is solely focused on Johnny— the heat of his hands scorching against your skin, his prominent length hidden underneath his pajama bottoms grinding on you. 

“Lift yer leg a wee bit, hen.” Keeping a watchful gaze on your parents, you silently plead that they won’t notice as you hide your compliance under the guise of trying to make yourself comfortable. Once settled, you lowered your leg and had to bite your tongue with force, to keep the moan from slithering out of your throat. 

His cock, bare, right in between your thighs. Like warm velvet wrapped around steel, thick, heavy, tip pushing against your core with every minute thrust. Johnny moves even closer, arm tight around your waist, hand sliding into your bottoms, heading straight towards your soaked, swollen clit to rub feather-light delectable circles on it.

“I’m gonna stick just the tip in, a’right? I swear,” he says in a hushed tone, as he pulls back to lower the waistband of your shorts to rest on your upper thighs, “just,” he thrusts once, “the”, again, “tip.” and his leaking head slips into your hole— pushing it in until your walls flutter around it. 

“Ye feel incredible, squeeze that tight pus—” your dripping cunt cuts him off, drawing out a hiss of surprise from him. His subdued voice in your ear is so seductive, so bewitching, that you can’t help but clench around him. 

For most of the movie, Johnny languidly thrusts into you, truly keeping to his word. Just the tip— teasing you, making you drip onto the sofa, muted squishy, gooey noises coming from under your blanket, and you couldn’t be bothered by any of it. Flared, ridged head catching on your slippery lips with every drag of his cock. You’re drooling on your hand that covers your mouth beneath the snug blanket— struggling to hold back the mewls and whimpers threatening to escape. 

All of a sudden, Johnny mutters, “The movie’s about ta end, close yer eyes and keep completely still. Stabilize and deepen yer breathin’, hen.” Without hesitation, you do as he says, body going limp in compliance, the only tell-tale sign of your excitability being the rapid pulsing of your jugular on the delicate skin of your neck. 

The TV is turned off, and the living room goes completely silent, apart from the deafening sound of blood rushing in your ears. Johnny behind you feigns quiet snoring, so believable that if it wasn’t for his throbbing cock still at your entrance, you’d think he actually fell asleep.

Your dad’s poor imitation of a whisper cuts through the quiet. 

“They’re asleep, let’s just leave them here.” Footsteps shuffle as they tip-toe around you both, and as they get farther away, Johnny slowly moves his hand to cover yours, truly weighing down on it. The instant their door clicks shut, he uses his other hand to pick up your leg and throw it over your shoulder, and thrusts hard, deep, until his bollocks are flush against your arse. Your nails claw at the hand over your mouth as you scream, your gummy walls stretching against his assault— a burn so exquisite, pleasure teetering on the edge of pain, achingly delicious, it sends tendrils of ecstasy directly into your veins.

He lets out a guttural moan, one only you could hear, private, intimate. “It’s about time ye let me have this sweet pussy, hen.” One vicious thrust that punches the air from your lungs and rattles the sofa, and then another, when he finally speaks again. “Fuck, we hae ta do this when we are nae restricted, hm?” His hips start a slow rhythm, long, unhurried undulating thrusts, and every time he bottoms out, he grinds his pubic bone on your clit, the tip of his cock giving your cervix a lewd kiss. Every time he reaches the entrance of your womb, it feels like he wants to go in further, to go past the dead end, and your cock drunk mind only thinks about how you want him to do it, too. 

“Yer slobberin’ all over my hand, hen. S’that good, is it? Oooh, I ken it is. Only the best fer my girl, hm?” He hisses through clenched teeth, “I’m fuckin’ close. Come f’me. I’m not comin’ until ye cover my cock with yer cream, leave a white ring at the base.” His hips have been moving at the same exact speed he started at, not a stutter in his pattern. As if him fucking you into a puddle of arousal wasn’t taxing on his part. 

Then he does something different, something that threatens to snap that coil in your lower tummy, and along with it your sanity. He starts giving shallow thrusts, never pulling out more than halfway, and makes sure to rub against your clit, giving you that heavenly friction you need. It has you delirious, fervent, and you start moving your own hips, uncaring of how you must look.

Johnny moves his thumb down to your nub, drawing tight, precise, merciless circles on it, and you are thrown over the edge— more like kicked off by a spartan kick from how gut-wrenching your orgasm is ripped from you. Your pleasure is so acute, so powerful that there are needle-like pricks on the shell of your ears. Your body shakes underneath Johnny, pussy throbbing and pulsing with the aftershocks of your blinding climax. 

Drool escapes under Johnny’s palm, dripping down your cheeks and into your hair as you fall back, going completely limp, utterly spent. Finally getting back some coherency, you realize that Johnny’s gone soft inside of you, also drained, as he catches his breath holding himself over you. He removes his hand, uncaring that it’s sticky with your spit, and noses your cheekbone, nudging you to slant his lips over yours, curling his tongue against yours. He swallows the pathetic mewl you let out and presses one final kiss onto your lips. 

“I’ve missed ye, hen. I’m so happy to be here, with ye. Let’s move to your bedroom, and in 10 minutes, I’ll give ye a proper fuckin’.” 

Your eyes close shut as you let out a resigned but elated sigh. 

“I love you too, Johnny.” 

@rookiesbookies and forgive the tag but i had you in mind too @brewed-pangolin ill never do it again unprompted

part 2

[mommynott]

White Christmas

12 Days of Dickmas - Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: A cozy December evening staying in with your boyfriend leads to loads of fun together, this year will in fact be a white Christmas.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, chars 18+, modern AU, bf!theo, dom!theo, PIV, breeding kink, rough sex, creampie(s), degrading, slight spitting, spanking, dirty talk, breeding, praising, multiple orgasms, Theodore Nott filling you up but this time he’s your dominant boyfriend

“Agh— Fuck- I’m gonna fill up that pretty little pussy-“

Through his panting, Theodore was pounding into you like a madman. One of his strong hands squeezed both of your cheeks together, forcing your eyes to his. The other gripping onto his headboard for support.

“P-please— creampie me!” Moaning as you felt the pleasure soaring within you, Theo seemed to go even faster. His bicep muscles tensing up with each thrust, and his veins nearly popping out from under his skin from the intense pump.

Suddenly, his body jolted, letting out a deep guttural growl. His hot sticky cum spilled deep inside of you, the tip of his cock rubbing right against the crevice of your cervix. You could feel the way his dick twitched between your tightened walls.

“Fuuuuck— I love it when you cum inside of me…” Both of your breathing haggard now, your gaze flickered between one another. Theo slowly sat up but kept his throbbing cock shoved inside of you. His glistening seed spilling out of the sides of your pussy.

The most satisfied yet smug smirk danced across Theodore’s face. “I know you do…You little slut— My little cum slut…” Speaking through his heaves, a sea of giggles escaped your reddened lips.

Inhaling sharply through his teeth, he began to slowly pump in and out of you again. Looking down at the sight of your swollen cunt and his oozing cum. “I’m not stopping— F-fuck- Your pussy feels too good, amore” Your eyes sparkled with desire, nodding your head.

“Don’t— Keep fucking me, baby…Breed me…I’m begging-“

Breathing out your words, they dripped from your lips ever so seductively. Causing excitement to course throughout Theo. “Is that what you want, huh? Want me to fuckin’ breed you? Get you pregnant?”

He taunted you. Teased you. Just as he got a firm grip on your thighs, slightly lifting your hips. “—Mhmmm- Keep cummin’ in me…” As soon as you gave him the go-ahead, Theo’s eyes darkened with desire. Slamming his soaked cock forcefully once again

The bed frame was squeaking, hearing the way the legs of the bed seemed to scratch along the floor from how hard he was fucking you. The aggression was skyrocketing by the second. Fuck were you loving this.

“All night— All fuckin’ night I’m giving you all of my cum, amore…You’re taking every last drop-“

Sweat beaded down Theo’s forehead, causing his unruly messy locks to cling to his skin, his chest glistening through each plow. Your wailing moans bounced off of the walls. “Y-yes! Give me that cum— Fuck! I’m so close!”

Constantly shifting your head from side to side, whining through the bliss that grew with each thrust. Theo’s ocean gaze burned down at your leaky little slit. “Let’s get ya’ even wetter, amore-“ With that, he spat down on your pussy.

Taking one of his hands, his fingers swirled his spit and previous cum together over your clit. “I-I— Theo! Fuck-“ Letting go, your body quivered with a relishable orgasm. Clawing down Theo’s biceps, leaving your scratch marks as you did.

“Feels good, doesn’t it— Fuck- You look so sexy cummin’ on my cock, Cara Mia- Fuck— Fuck!” Theo started to frantically drive into you, so much so that he took his silver chain that dangled around his neck, placing it between his teeth.

“Imma breed that perfect little pussy— Fuck I’m gonna cum-“

Mumbling through the metal chain, his cock jerked between your clenched walls. His load spurting deep inside of you, both of you hitting climax nearly at the same exact time. Your glossed-over gaze fluttering up to Theodore’s.

Yet again, He slowly rolled his cock into your used cunt. Dropping the silver from between his teeth, His body was still slightly shaky from the sensitivity.

“I’m not fuckin’ done— Cazzo- You feel so good..” He groaned, wrapping his arms around you, swiftly plopping down to his back and having you straddle him.

Now on top of your boyfriend, you waved your Lucious locks down your back. Starting to slowly bounce yourself up his massive length. “You feel even better, baby— I love your cum…” With a whimper, your nails dug into Theo’s pecks, propping yourself up.

—Smack! Swatting down a heavy palm to your ass before firmly grasping it with both hands, Theodore helped guide you. “Dio Mio…You’re a goddess— Keep fuckin’ me like that, amore-“ Growling his vulgar yet sweet words you moved yourself even faster.

“Cazzo— I love breeding this cunt- Filling you up like a dirty little slut- my personal cum toy…”

Biting your bottom lip, your wetness gripped tightly around Theo’s length with each stroke. Your tits bouncing with you had Theo’s eyes burning into them. “Gods— Baby…”

The babbling mess of you could hardly even make out audible words let alone form sentences. Purely focused on the pleasure between the two of you. “That’s it, Cara…Ride the cum out of me-“

Theo popped into you even more, helping you with each thrust. You swore you could feel him in your damn stomach at this point. Your cervix surely taking a beating. His two previous loads swishing within your pussy.

The sensation of it all was only turning you on more so, feeling your eyes start to roll into the back of your head. “How good does it feel, amore?- hm? How good does it feel with all my loads inside of you? Tell me…Use your words”

Those raunchy aspect of it made you shudder, your skin erupting with goosebumps. “S-so good—No- Amazing…So amazing-“ Theo’s hard hand came down on your ass a few more times. Feeling the stinging redness bloom across your cheeks.

“You want my cum inside of you?— Beg for it- Beg for my nut. C‘mon now..”

His domineering tone had you weak in the knees, knowing you were close to another euphoric climax as well. Just the thought he’d cum inside of you a third time had you feeling hot.

Cursing under your breath, you furrowed your brows to spit out what he wanted. “Please— God! Please fill me up..Please breed me! P-please…I’m beggin’- Please!” Driveling from your lips, Theo found the mess of you all too amusing. All too sexy

“My girl wants to be bred again hm? Such a greedy little cum slut— Don’t worry…I got plenty for you-“

Igniting something deep inside of you, Theo bounced you even harder, taking control and thrusting himself into your juicy slit. “I- Please- Fuck!” Moans now turning into screams of pleasure, you were on the brink of yet another orgasm.

“Cum with me, Cara Mia- Cum as I breed you-“ He panted, drilling in your aching pussy even harder before you both spilled over the edge. Theo’s third load shot out between your own climax, your cries heard around the entire bedroom.

Collapsing down on your boyfriend, he gently stroked his knuckles down your spine. Both of you left reeling and catching your breaths together. “sei tutto per me, amore-“ Theo heaved before slapping loving kisses along the side of your neck.

A lazy and tired smile tugged on your lips, his drained cock still snuggly sitting inside of you. Theo continued rubbing down your back ever so softly.

The dim Christmas string lights hanging in your bedroom now creating a cozy feel. Before you knew it, the both of you drifted off into a deep sleep, still plastered together from the intense sex.

On the third day of Christmas…We’re getting a few yummy and delicious pies hehe🥧🎁

Definitely go check out @nottsangel, @nottswitch, and @slytherinslut0 for more smutty Xmas content❄️

Dividers linked in my masterlist🌙

I love you all bunches 💋

[theostrophywife]

chicken noodle soup.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader

song inspiration: is it really so strange? by the smiths

author's note: just a soft fluffy comfort fic cause i've been thinking about matty lately and i needed cheering up after the end of kwaf. let's all laugh at the fact that i set a 1k limit on this fic only to fail miserably lmao 😭

Mattheo Riddle was not a fan of Mondays. 

Most of the time, Mattheo spent the first day of the week nursing a hangover and getting higher than a hippogriff at the Astronomy Tower with his friends to achieve equilibrium. The only thing he looked forward to every week was the prospect of riling you up in class. To be fair, it didn’t take much to get under your skin. Being himself seemed to do the trick. 

As he walked through the castle halls, Mattheo smiled to himself as he plotted out all the different ways he could provoke you on this dreadful day. For some sick and twisted reason, he reveled in the fact that only he could manage to rouse such a violent reaction out of you. There was something satisfying about the way your eyes blazed, your rosy cheeks tinged with heat as you told him off.

Maybe he'd flirt with you today. Tell you how good you looked in your short little skirt. Watch as you turned as red as the tie around your neck. His pretty little Gryffindor good girl. In Mattheo's mind, you were his to tease and taunt.

With his usual swagger, Mattheo sauntered into Advanced Transfiguration fully prepared to test out his new tactics on his nemesis, but you were nowhere to be found. 

At first, he figured that you were just running late. Throughout the duration of your rivalry, Mattheo had never once witnessed you skip class. He would’ve bet his entire cigarette supply that you’ve had perfect attendance since first year. When Professor McGonagall started the lesson and you were still missing in action, Mattheo was understandably concerned. 

The uneasy feeling in his stomach didn’t mean that he was worried about you though. This was purely about mutual benefit. Mattheo couldn’t very well have his Transfigurations partner skipping out on lessons. Even though he regularly did so himself. But still, that was different. Everyone knew he was a delinquent. You, on the other hand, were anything but. Until today, you’ve probably never missed a class in your life. 

Mattheo waited. Surprisingly, the two of you had the majority of your classes together. All of which dragged more than usual since you weren’t there to yell at him for dicking around. When you still hadn't turned up for Charms or Herbology, he became convinced that something was horribly wrong. Missing one lesson was alarming, but three in a row? That was entirely out of character for you. 

When Professor Sprout finally dismissed the class, Mattheo sauntered over to Granger’s desk. As always, she was surrounded by her two dimwit friends who immediately tensed the second he loomed near. Potter and Weasley shot him matching menacing glares, but Mattheo ignored them entirely. 

“Granger,” he drawled, leaning against the wooden desk. “Care to tell me where my partner’s been all day?” 

The Gryffindor girl appeared a bit perturbed by the question. “Why do you want to know where Y/N is?” 

Mattheo sighed in exasperation and produced the set of notes he’d taken during class. A first for him. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually listened to an entire lesson, let alone take notes, but he knew that you would have a million questions for him when you returned. The notes were his way of saving himself from your relentless interrogation. 

“Figured the little know-it-all would want my notes.” 

“Y/N is feeling a bit under the weather,” Hermione said cautiously. “I can take the notes to her if you’d like.” 

“No.” Mattheo declared rather suddenly. He cleared his throat and attempted to smooth over the sharp response. “No, McGonagall tasked me with it. I don’t want her docking points from my house when she finds out that you did my dirty work for me.”

Hermione raised a brow. “Sure.” The quirk of her mouth told Mattheo that she wasn’t convinced by his excuse. “Well, Y/N is resting up in the tower if you fancy a visit.” 

After a quick detour to the kitchens, Mattheo made his way over to Gryffindor tower. It was surprisingly easy to gain access to the lion’s den. He simply threatened a third year to let him in and got on with it. They truly needed to upgrade their security measures. One glare was all it took for Creevey to crumble and cave. 

With a satisfied smirk, Mattheo walked past the gaudy common room. For Salazar's sake, hadn't the Gryffindors ever heard of subtlety? The decor consisted solely of crimson and gold and the furnishings looked like something out of that muggle show his nan loved to watch—Antiques Roadshow. Antique was right. The worn out couch that he passed looked older than him.

Merlin, now he was starting to sound like Malfoy. Mattheo hurried along before he caught the urge to fold origami notes and chuck it at Potter's head. Fortunately for him, the place was devoid of the Chosen One or anyone for that matter.

By now, his fellow classmates were all in the Great Hall eating dinner, which he was thankful for. It was no secret that Mattheo’s presence wouldn’t be welcome here and he wasn’t really in the mood to fight his way through the Gryffindors just to deliver a note from the kindness of his black heart. Thank Salazar that there wasn’t a single soul in the tower to bicker with. Until he reached your dorm, of course. 

The relationship between the two of you was volatile to say the least. Despite Mattheo’s reputation, you weren’t shy about telling him off. When you were first assigned as partners, Mattheo had fully intended to let you do all the work while he skipped class to smoke, but he quickly realized that this would not be the case. You hunted him down at his hideout in the Astronomy Tower and discovered him blissfully sharing some premium grade mirthroot with Theo and Draco. When you found him, you were so angry that you dragged him by the ear all the way to the library, much to the amusement of his friends. Needless to say, Mattheo never missed a study session again. 

In a way, Mattheo admired you for it. Aside from his friends, everyone in the castle feared him. It was sort of refreshing to have someone call him out on his shit. Especially if that someone was a funny, feisty, ferocious Gryffindor who he enjoyed pestering every chance that he got. Mattheo always did have a penchant for girls with an attitude problem. 

Even as he knocked on your door, the Slytherin boy couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when he heard you grumbling from the other side. 

“Oh, for Godric’s fucking sake, what is it now?” 

The door swung open, revealing a very pissed off Y/N. Clad in striped pajamas and fuzzy bunny slippers, you placed a hand on your hip and frowned. Even in the throes of sickness, you still somehow managed to inject venom in your glare. Mattheo grinned like an idiot. 

“Nice slippers, princess.” 

You huffed, crossing your arms. “What do you want, Riddle?” 

“To make sure my partner doesn’t slack.” He waved his set of notes around. “Don’t think your sickness excuses you from studying.”

“This is payback for making you revise with me after you fell off your broom and broke your arm, isn’t it?” 

Mattheo cringed as he recalled the quidditch accident that sent him to the infirmary for a week. In true Y/N fashion, you were sitting by his bedside with a stack of books in your lap the second he woke up. Madam Pomfrey hadn't even put his arm in a sling yet before you were drilling him on proper spell enunciation and wand movements.

“You terrorized the infirmary with your mnemonics,” Mattheo said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s my turn now. This is sweet revenge, Y/N.” 

You squinted at his barely legible handwriting. “I’m just surprised you took your head out of your arse long enough to take notes.” 

“Glad to see that illness hasn’t lessened your bite. If anything, those teeth seem a little sharper than usual.” He leaned against the doorframe and smiled down at you. “Feeling a bit feral, princess?” 

“Why don’t you come a little closer and find out?” you quipped, baring your teeth at the aggravating boy. 

The gesture appeared intimidating for a full second until you sniffled and launched into a coughing fit, which made Mattheo frown. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Of course I am. I regularly cough my lungs out on nosy Slytherins whose sole purpose of existence is to make my life a living hell.”

He pressed the back of his hand against your forehead. The way his brow furrowed strangely resembled concern. Mattheo trained his chocolate brown eyes on you, examining the rosiness of your cheeks and the slight pinch of discomfort in your features.

"You're burning up." Mattheo's hand dropped from your forehead to the side of your neck. He pressed his fingers against your pulse point, feeling the erratic beating of your heart underneath his touch. It was strangely intimate. "You have an elevated heart rate."

You flushed and swatted his hand away. "Well, yes. That usually happens when one is ill."

"Come on, you should sit down."

"Don't tell me what to do, Riddle."

Mattheo rolled his eyes before dragging you by the elbow. Your protests fell on deaf ears as he barged his way into your dorm and walked you over to the bed. You watched as he pulled up a chair next to you before rifling through the contents of his backpack. Out of the sordid mess of his belongings, Mattheo produced a small container of soup. With a flick of his wand, he conjured a spoon. 

“Here, have some of this. It should help.”

As soon as he pried the lid open, the heavenly smell of chicken noodle soup filled your senses. Mattheo scooped up an equal amount of soup and noodle and blew on it to cool it down before tilting it towards you. The sight of him offering you food like you were some helpless toddler was only slightly insulting. You swore to Godric that if Mattheo started making airplane sounds, you’d strangle the bloody twat.

 “I can feed myself, you know.” 

“Just eat the damn soup, Y/N.” 

You rolled your eyes in return, but obliged nonetheless. Despite the source, you could never resist comfort food.

“Chicken noodle soup?” 

As soon as you tasted it, you knew that it wasn’t just soup. It was your favorite soup. The very same one that Winky made every third Wednesday of the month. You knew because you looked forward to it every time. It was even marked on your calendar. That’s how much you liked it. 

Mattheo nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I know it’s your favorite so I bribed Winky to make some.” 

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “How do you know it’s my favorite?” 

For once in his life, Mattheo looked utterly uncomfortable. He averted his gaze and busied himself by stirring through the carrots and celery. “You, uh, mentioned it in class once.” 

You couldn’t help but smile. Maybe it was the fever talking, but you thought that was sweet. “You remembered that?” 

Mattheo looked up, a stray curl kissing the tops of his cheekbones as he met your gaze. The shy smile on his face was alarmingly endearing. Sometimes when you looked at those angelic curls and stupid big, brown eyes, you forgot that you were supposed to loathe him. “Of course. It’s my favorite too.” 

You chuckled, sniffling a little. “It’s like a hug in a cup, right?” 

The curly headed boy nodded. “It totally is.” 

After you finished the soup, you expected Mattheo to take his leave. Instead, he inspected the vials of potions laying out on your night stand. He read through every label, frowning a little. 

“You should really have some pepperup potion in here.” Mattheo remarked as he arranged the vials one by one. “Are you sure this dose is potent enough? Maybe you should ask them to brew something stronger.” 

“Pomfrey prescribed them herself. No offense, but I think I’ll take her years of healing experience over your expert opinion.” Mattheo gasped rather dramatically, which made you chuckle. “As much as I appreciate the notes and the soup, I don't think it's wise for you to stick around. I’m feeling a bit better, but I might still be contagious.” 

Mattheo shrugged. “It’s alright, I’m not scared of a little cold. Besides, I still have to go over the Transfiguration assignment with you.” 

“Aren’t you worried that I’ll get you sick?” 

“Not really,” he said, waving off your concern. “I know you’re going to pester me about everything you missed in class, so I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone.” 

To your surprise, Mattheo’s notes were extremely detailed.  It was a bit hard to read given his boyish scrawl, but with a little help in translation, you were making great progress in becoming fluent in Riddle. The more Mattheo explained the concepts and ideas that were discussed in each class, the more baffled you were. You've always known that he was smarter than he let on, but this was borderline impressive.

“How do you know all of that?” 

“I asked.”

“You asked?” Mattheo stared blankly at your surprised expression. “You never ask questions in class.” 

“I never had to since you're always there interrogating the professor like the little know-it-all that you are. Thanks to your absence, I had to fill your role in class today.”

You grinned. It grew wider and wider, spreading until your cheeks hurt. Mattheo glared at your joyous expression. “What? What’s that shit eating little grin for?” 

“You missed me.”

Color flooded Mattheo’s cheeks. You were surprised to find how well crimson suited him. It was almost the exact shade of your house colors. “Don’t be ridiculous—”

“Riddle, you asked questions in class. You took notes for me. You brought me chicken noodle soup." Mattheo flushed as you pointed out the obvious. "You totally missed me.” 

“If you tell anyone, I’ll hex you.” 

“Admit it, Mattheo. Your day was utterly dull without me.” 

Mattheo rolled his eyes, sighing in defeat. “Fine, you’ve got me. I was bored out of my mind without you around. How else am I supposed to pass the time if you’re not there for me to argue with?” 

“There’s plenty of other people in the castle that you could bicker with.”

“Yeah, but they’re not you.” 

He seemed a little shocked by his own statement, but he didn't try to retract it. In fact, Mattheo almost seemed resigned to it.

“Careful, Riddle. It almost sounds like you have a crush on me.” 

“I’d have to be a bloody idiot to fall for a girl who absolutely despises me.” 

“That wasn’t a denial, you know.” 

He pinched the bridge of his nose like the very idea of it vexed him, but you caught the little smile he hid beneath his fingers. Mattheo snatched the notes from your hands. “Focus on the lesson, will you?” He grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth. “I can’t believe I’ve just said that. Look at what you’re doing to me, Y/N.” 

“You’ll live, Riddle.” You poked a section of his notes that you hadn’t quite deciphered. “Now what in the bloody hell is the Gobstopper Ruffian?” 

“The Goblin Rebellion. Merlin, my handwriting isn't that bad.” 

“Are you kidding? A kindergartner writes more legibly than this.” 

The hours passed while you bickered and bantered. You hated to admit it, but you missed arguing with him too. Laying in bed all day had you positively bored, but yet time passed within the blink of an eye as you went back and forth with Mattheo. Somewhere between discussing the possibility of Longbottom running an underground exotic plant ring and arguing over the best Smiths song, the sun had set over the horizon. Mattheo rubbed his eyes and yawned. 

“You look knackered, Riddle,” you teased, patting the spot beside you. “Do you want to lie down for a bit?”

Chocolate brown eyes widened at you. “Lie down? With you? On your bed?” 

“Yes, that’s typically how people do it.” You smirked as he shot you an apprehensive look. “Unless you’re too scared.”’

Never one to back down from a challenge, Mattheo lifted the covers and gestured for you to make room. “Scoot over, then.” 

The jest seemed to have backfired on you because now Mattheo was crawling into bed and making himself completely at home. All the apprehension from earlier melted as he pulled you against him, his chest pressed against your back as he nuzzled into the crook of your shoulder. You stifled a giggle as Mattheo released a satisfied little sigh. 

Mattheo wrapped his arms around you until you were covered in the scent of amber, cinnamon, and leather. You never expected to unearth the fact that Mattheo Riddle was a great cuddler, but yet here you were, reaping the benefits of this newfound revelation. He slipped his fingers through yours and nuzzled closer. 

"Who would've known that Mattheo Riddle was such a great cuddler?"

"If you tell anyone—"

"You'll hex me. Put a curse on my family. Set my possessions on fire. Yes, I know, Riddle. You keep threatening me, but you never follow through. I'm starting to think that you're losing your touch."

Mattheo squeezed your hip before twining your legs together. "I wouldn't test me, Y/N. You're in a very vulnerable position right now."

You chuckled as he scooted even closer. "Maybe, but you won't do anything."

"Why's that, princess?"

"You like me too much," you retorted, chuckling as Mattheo buried his face in your hair. "One day without me and you're already a needy mess."

"You infuriate me," Mattheo whispered against your ear. "But you're also the best part of my day. I couldn't imagine fighting with anyone else but you, my dear nemesis."

"I totally loathe you, Mattheo Riddle."

He chuckled as you snuggled into him. "I loathe you too, Y/N Y/L/N."

The irony of the statement contrasted with how tangled up you were wasn't lost on you. For two people who supposedly hated each other, cuddling with your enemy had never felt so right. The steady beat of Mattheo's heart lulled you towards sleep. You were slowly succumbing to its hypnotic lullaby until Mattheo's voice broke through the silence.

“Y/N?” He murmured against your hair.

You shifted, your eyes feeling heavy as his warmth enveloped you. “Hmm?” 

Mattheo’s voice was low and gravelly, flowing like honey in your ears. “This is nice.” 

You smiled against the pillow, staring at your intertwined fingers. “Better than chicken noodle soup?” 

You felt him grin against your skin before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on your temple. “Way better than soup.” 

TAGLIST

@annaisabookworm @bubybubsters @criesinlies @niktwazny303 @therealallisonspear @athenalikethegoddess @clairesjointshurt @vixzwrites @elle4404

[jaylaxies]

ENHYPEN REACTION: to you being in the rival house at Hogwarts

PAIRING: enhypen hyung line x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, slytherin!hee with gryffindor!reader, slytherin!jay with hufflepuff!reader, ravenclaw!jake with gryffindor!reader, gryffindor!sunghoon with slytherin!reader

WC: 4.7k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, my loves <3 this was requested by my anonnie here and i loved writing about enha and hogwarts omg! all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33

Slytherin!Heeseung x Gryffindor!reader

Trope: Headboy x Headgirl

Heeseung was beyond elated when he got his letter back at the manor, stating how he had become the head boy of Hogwarts. His family of pure bloods were even prouder, however, his cocky smirk dropped the second he met with the entirety of the prefectorial board at the Hogwarts express, prefect compartment to be precise.

Seeing you standing there with the batch stating ‘head girl’ was not something he wanted to see, not when you were someone who came from a non wizarding background, someone who was in Gryffindor.

How could they make you the head girl? How could they think he’d be willing to spend his time working with you of all people. His hatred for your likes was visible from day one, his taunts and threats didn’t bother you, and that’s exactly what bothered him. The urge to make your life living hell was his motto more or less, even more so this year.

“It’s absurd, man. Let her be now, it’s our last year here for Godric’s sake,” Jay huffed out, irritated that Heeseung couldn’t shut up about the new Gryffindor quidditch captain giving you too much attention despite your blood status.

“It doesn’t fucking matter, why do people like her anyway? What happened to keeping the muggles away from the likes of us?” He gritted his teeth, accidentally stabbing the piece of chicken too hard with his fork at dinner. The sight of you snuggling close to the said captain infuriated him more than he let on.

“Well, she’s not a muggle if she can do magic, and extraordinarily well at that,” Jay offered, having done with Heeseung being a dimwit and not realizing the truth behind his anger.

“Wow, thanks for the support, mate,” Heeseung rolled his eyes, looking back at you again.

He’d make sure to wipe that smile off of your face while taking rounds later—at least that’s what he promised himself. Taking rounds was probably the time he looked forward to the most, given that it was the perfect time to criticize and show hatred towards you.

However, the second you meet up at the staircase, telling him to divide areas since you do not wish to work with him anymore, he loses it. He completely loses it, scoffing and grabbing your wrist, pulling you into the room of requirement right behind you.

“What the fuck—” you tried to scream, but he was quick to cover your mouth with his hand.

“What? Can’t even look my way now that you have a quidditch captain chasing you around?” He scoffs, eyes full of hatred, the kind you had never seen before and it made you scoff.

“Well, newsflash, Lee. I never wanted to look your way from the very start. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s you who’s clearly obsessed with me,” you seethed out, not caring about the proximity despite your breathing getting heavier.

“Ah? Me obsessed with the likes of you? Don’t flatter yourself, darling,” he said, tone almost challenging, his hold on your wrist tight, just like the hand that was grabbing your waist now, making you gulp but not back down.

“So, it shouldn’t matter to you if I snog my quidditch captain, or more,” you whispered with a smug smile, feeling his hand squeezing your waist tighter.

“You cannot do that,” he warned.

“Oh but I did—”

You couldn’t finish your statement and nor could Heeseung control his actions anymore, pressing you up against the wall and shoving his tongue down your throat, kissing you in the messiest way he could muster to mush out all the sane thoughts coming his way.

This was the sanest he had felt in ages.

“You’re fucking mine,” he groaned against your lips.

“No, fuck I’m not,” you smirked, testing him further, loving how he had finally given in to the truth—that he wanted you.

The room of requirement was sly, preparing a bed as he pushed you on it, getting on top of you while getting rid of his robes, “oh, babe, I’ll show you who you belong to.”

“Took you way too long, Lee,” you chuckled, gasping the second he pushed your panties aside, feeling your wetness on his fingers with a smirk.

“Been waiting, eh?” He asked, cocky as he pushed two fingers in with ease, your back arching as you moaned.

“Talk about yourself,” you smirked, pulling him into another rough kiss, messy of all sorts as he sucked on your tongue, pumping his own cock by lubricating it with your wetness.

He wasted no time, in aligning himself to your entrance, pushing his cock in one go to bottom out, groaning at the tightness that squeezed him, thrusting almost instantly when he saw nothing but pleasure on your face with a promise to claim you his.

“Fuck, I knew you’d make a perfect whore, always so desperate for my attention,” he groaned, snapping his hips to yours, the noise resonating the room.

“You can’t even thrust properly, ah—” he sped up to shut your mouth, your toes curling as you held on to him for support, chanting his name like a mantra the whole time as he proved just how much and how well he can fuck you.

All night.

Slytherin!Jay x Hufflepuff!reader

Trope: Animagi Jay

It took him a lot of patience.

In fact, it took everyone in his friend group a lot of patience to keep their mouths shut for a whole month, a single mandrake leaf resting in their mouths. However, they wanted to do something iconic, which would be—turning into an animagus to cause trouble whilst being unregistered at that. The whole process was tedious.

Jay was losing his last bit of sanity, watching you smiling softly and being kind to others, which was a usual thing per se.

The only problem was how he couldn’t verbally bother you.

It was known to be his favourite pastime, inserting himself in your life and bothering you for existing.

Why? Because that’s what he should do, being a slytherin. He had a personality he needed to live up to, and he knew hell would break if anyone as much as gets a hint about Jay’s infatuation with you.

The solution? To make sure he says the meanest things so he wouldn’t have to see your smile. You don’t get why he’s mean to you. His hatred goes as far as it concerns you, and you’ve never seen him calling anyone else names but you.

So, seeing you being happy and not once thinking about him since he put the leaf in his mouth had his blood boiling, especially when you agreed to attend Slughorn’s party with a random ravenclaw boy. The same party he was gonna ask you to attend with him—or bully you into attending with him, but the smile on your face gets him mad.

He scoffed, ignoring the whole situation and focusing on the transformation process, completely missing the look of sadness on your face when he left without even acknowledging your presence, his mind deep in different thoughts.

Of course you’d be happy without him.

However, the success in becoming an animagi had him smiling. He was a big black cat—a royal panther, while his other friends turned into a bird and a dog.

He went out to explore the place in his animal form, getting out of Hogwarts castle to visit the black lake, not once thinking that he would find you here at night.

Your back looked peaceful as you stared at the lake, and he was silent as he made his way towards you, almost scaring you the second you saw a black panther settling down next to you, a gasp leaving your mouth as your eyes shined under the moonlight.

“Hi, I’ve never seen you around before,” you spoke up, fascinated, extending your hand to stroke his fur.

Jay didn’t expect this, and he knew he didn’t have to pretend in this form, making him purr with pleasure as you gently caressed him. He was a cat after all. The warmth of your kindness was driving him crazy, he so desperately wanted you to like him back, but he knew you wouldn’t.

It became a routine for him to sneak out to meet you at night in his animal form, and he adored how you shared all your secrets with an animal, talking to him, letting him rest his head on your lap and as far as kissing his head in adoration.

He was in love with you.

He loved how you welcomed him with a pretty smile, the same smile which he wipes off your face in his human form.

Everything was going smoothly, to the point Jay had even started staring at you between classes, not being as rude as he used to be before and you never hesitated on smiling back at him, ever so kind. He wanted to talk to you, face to face, and confess.

However, that plan went down the drain. The same Ravenclaw boy was seen standing close to you, a conjured flower in his hand which he presented to you with a wide smile while Jay watched it unfold with the nastiest scowl on his face.

So being petty, Jay practically shoved you out of the way, not looking back even after hearing a little “ouch” coming from your direction as you stumbled, ignoring when you called out his name, rather proceeding to the next class.

He didn’t see you there, and he tried not to act affected by your absence, assuming that you’d have gone with the other guy, relaxing when he saw you in potions class again, his eyes never leaving your face which looked distressed. Especially after you took a sniff of the amortentia, the love potion.

His heart lurched, wondering if you smelled the other guy. And in his case, he knew he was doomed the second he took a sniff and instantly smelled of your body lotion and your favourite delicacy. His eyes met yours that very second and he had to gulp, looking elsewhere to pretend that he was fine.

That night, with a heavy heart, he sat down next to you in his animagi form yet again, this time he found you at the astronomy tower, a bandage around your arm.

“Hey, love,” you welcomed the black panther, “it’s such a pretty night,” you sighed dreamily, petting the panther next to you.

“You mind if I talk?” You asked, chuckling when the panther nodded as if he understood what you meant, “I don’t understand boys. I really like this guy but he’s been mean to me to see. It’s pathetic, isn’t it? That I smelled him in the love potion and he’s the reason why I stumbled and hurt my arm—I just can’t help it, I wish Jay would like me back but he doesn’t even look my way without wanting to look away or just comment about how I’m just a weak Hufflepuff girl,” you mumbled, not focusing on how the panther had stood up all of a sudden.

Jay’s heart thumped, he wasn’t sure if he heard it right, but it was too much, he couldn’t wait anymore.

He transformed back into his human form right there, your eyes widening as you opened your mouth to scream, which he put a hand over to muffle your voices.

“That—that was you!” You whisper-yelled, shoving him away.

“Did you mean it?” He asked, grabbing your wrist which made you lean against the wall, “that you like me?”

You could barely breathe, biting your lip as you nodded, “I know you hate me—”

“Oh, you know nothing, baby,” he chuckled, grabbing your nape and pulling you into a kiss, making your eyes widen before he pulled you even closer, making you kiss him back eventually, getting fervent with your actions.

“Fuck, I like you so much. It was you who I smelled, in the love potion, I mean. I’m sorry for being an asshole, I never knew how to handle feeling this way for you,” he apologized, cutting the kiss and leaning his forehead against yours.

Instead of replying, you pulled him into another kiss, letting his hands wander all over your body, his self control leaving his body. He knew he had you now, and he knew he wouldn’t be letting go, especially after the little whimpers leaving your mouth the second he started kissing your neck after leaving your lips all swollen.

You were too sensitive, too forgiving.

Rubbing your thighs together didn’t help either, but the second he squeezed your bare thigh, you knew you were gone. It was the ideal place for you both to be doing this, but stopping wasn’t an option, not when he was so passionately marking you just after you told him you rejected the other boy.

Spreading your legs was easy, asking you to be a good girl and keep your voices at bay was even easier for Jay, and you obliged, your eyes rolling back as he lapped at your cunt, licking big stripes while fucking your cunt with his fingers, trying to be gentle but you were too pent up to ask him to go slower, only urging him to move faster.

That’s how you spent your night, he took you to his chamber, kicking everyone out shamelessly to fuck you into the mattress, his cock not having enough of you and your pussy clenching him, trying to hold him in for as long as you could before you both reached your high.

He knew he fucked up before but now that he actually had you in his arms, he knew he was going to cherish you forever.

Ravenclaw!Jake x Gryffindor!reader

Trope: Yule ball, fake dating

Jake was loved by everyone and he basked in the warmth of it. Being good in academics came naturally to him, he was a Ravenclaw after all. Adding to it, he was selected to represent Hogwarts at the triwizard championship, his fame and name more glorious than ever these days.

The problem? He had everyone’s attention but the girl who he claimed to have a tiny crush on.

He wanted to ask her to be his date for the Yule ball, however, the chances were slim as another Gryffindor boy named Heeseung, asked her right before Jake could even call out her name.

Jake wasn’t the only one suffering. You stood there beside him, watching the scene unfold with the same wrath in your eyes.

You wanted to go to the ball with Heeseung.

“Tough luck?” Jake asked, not sparing you a glance as you both watched him from a distance as they hugged gleefully.

“Talk about yourself, champ,” you crossed your arms, “she didn’t even think twice before saying yes,” you commented, jaw clenching, “she’s gonna get her heart broken, he’s gonna turn her into a situationship too.”

“What? We have to warn her,” Jake spoke, eyes widening.

“Oh, I tried, but she actually really likes Heeseung,” you huffed, “and here I thought I meant something to him.”

“Go with me,” Jake breathed out, finally looking your way, taking your beauty in.

“What?” You exclaimed, turning your head to look his way too.

He was beautiful, there’s no denying him. His hair was a bit on the messier side, lips pink and swollen from biting (he was nervous), and eyes full of hope.

“To make Heeseung jealous, of course!” He defended his statement and your eyes widened in understanding.

“Oh,” you let out, “so we’re doing all this fake dating thing, now?” You teased him, loving how his cheeks got redder but he only stepped closer, shrugging.

“We’ll have fun, you’ll get to be with the triwizard champion, it’s a win-win for you,” he offered, smirking and you smiled humorously.

“Sure,” you agreed, not paying attention to Heeseung who witnessed this interaction of yours.

It was easy to keep up with him, the rumours of you two being together spread like wildfire, especially with the Yule ball coming up, which only favoured you, granted that Heeseung had tried to approach you several times but Jake hadn’t left your side at all.

In fact, you were scared how easy it was to be in his company, “she wanted me to teach her how to ride the broom,” Jake had told you once, and he was one heck of a flyer, despite him not being in the team.

Naturally, you offered him to teach you that instead, watching how his eyes lit up and he nodded. Something about Jake was endearing to you—like how he helped you ride the broom with him sitting behind you. It felt real, too romantic the way he held on to you, smiling as he pointed out the various spots you could see from the height.

And you knew he felt it too, his heart pumping out of his chest as you rested your back against him.

It felt too real to him when you got him a tie that matched the colour of your dress, asking him to match with you, and he realized he had stopped thinking about the other girl completely as he helped you around with studies and you helped him feel alive.

Somewhere along the lines, you had forgotten that it was all fake, simply because it felt real to the both of you. The hand holding, the snuggling closer, the soft smiles on your faces, none of it was fake.

It didn’t hit you till you were on your way to meet Jake, only to find the other girl already talking to him in a corner, your jaw clenched at the sight of them talking about something you couldn’t make out from this distance. Your mind wasn’t sane as you stepped back and rushed to your own room, wondering if they had gotten together.

You knew it could very well be a misunderstanding, yet you didn’t do anything about it, especially when Jake didn’t come to meet you at all today.

You were slightly heartbroken as you woke up the next day, everyone seemed happy to the point they couldn’t stop talking about the Yule ball tonight, doing their hair and skincare already and you tried to join them, knowing that you can’t run away from it no matter what the situation would be.

Now, clad in your gown, you most certainly did feel better, looking in the mirror to find the prettiest version of yourself, you felt beautiful as you walked down the stairs, smiling gently when you found Jake waiting for you by the stairs.

His breathing hitched the second he saw you, eyes twinkling as he took you in, heart beating faster when you stood in front of him. It was magical how he took your hand, kissing your knuckles gently, “you look beautiful,” he whispered, your face heating up at the compliment.

So, you postponed asking him about the other girl, focusing solely on him as you were called for the first dance with Jake—the Hogwarts champion. He treated you well, he looked like the prettiest man alive, pulling you closer and dancing with you like he meant it when the rock band came out, but after a while, you stopped, pulling him out when he got you drinks to talk by some secluded area—a classroom nearby.

“I saw you guys talking,” you told him, admitting how you would be okay if he leaves you now and he how doesn’t need to put up this act anymore, making his heart lurch, “fuck—no! I asked her to stay away because,” he gulped as he met your eyes, “because I like you, not her.”

Everything felt rushed after, his lips on yours, your fingers in his hair, bodies pressed against one another as he messed up your lipstick, “I like you so much,” he kept mumbling between the kisses, lips trailing down to mark your neck.

He knew what he had to do—kiss every inch of you till you understood the depth of his words. He wants you so genuinely it makes your heart beat faster, his eyes full of earnestness as he comes up to kiss you again, but more than that, he wants to taste you, give you the pleasure you deserve.

Getting down on his knees was easy for him, getting under your gown even easier. You breathed in deeply when you felt him burying his nose in your pussy, pushing your panties aside to lick a stripe of your cunt, leaving a small kiss on your clit right after.

His movements were slow and calm, his hold on your thighs tight as he devoured you, seeming as if he’d be hungry for ages. You could have sworn you never felt this way before, gripping the table you were leaning against tightly, you tried your best not to fall down with how your knees were getting weaker by the second as his tongue was pushing around much faster than before.

“Jake—” you gasped, seeing stars as you finally came undone, your whole body felt as if it was on fire but Jake was just getting started with you.

Getting out, he looked more disheveled than ever, taking your hand and making you feel his hardened cock, “see what you do to me, baby,” he whispered, pulling you into another kiss, unzipping your dress as you cried about how much you need him.

Soon, your dress was on the ground and his body was connected with yours in a slow rhythm, full of lazy kisses and smiles, your face hidden in his neck as you bit him to conceal your moans when he hit that one spot which had your whole body weak.

You looked so beautiful, it made him lose his control, the sight itself had him twitching with the need to fill you up.

When you kissed him again, he finally let go, loving each second of it, knowing that you were truly his now.

Gryffindor!Sunghoon x Slytherin!reader

Trope: quidditch players, enemies to fwb

“Gryffindor! Gryffindor! Gryffindor!”

“Slytherin! Slytherin! Slytherin!”

The chants were loud, the crowd going wild at the sight of you and Sunghoon circling around each other before the game—something you always did as a challenge. It most certainly didn’t help that you were on par with each other, both chasers for your respective houses.

Watching you guys bicker was something everyone enjoyed, especially when it was about your houses and their reputations.

“You better watch out, Park,” you smirked, taking your position, “Slytherin is taking the win today,” you sang, watching his smirk grow.

“In your dreams, darling,” he whispered, winking at your right as the whistle blew.

The chants were loud and so was your motivation as you grabbed the Quaffle, successfully throwing it in one of the hoops as the crowd cheered. Watching Sunghoon scowl was a sweet treat, especially when you winked at him, passing by with the quaffle again.

The game continued for a while, your house leading by thirty points, much to Sunghoon’s dismay. You were having more fun teasing him rather than playing the actual game.

However, the second the snitch was caught by your seeker, Sunghoon got hit by a bludger, falling off his broom. You should have been celebrating his downfall (pun intended) yet you couldn’t help but worry, eyeing his figure while your team celebrated their win.

It was out of character for you to visit him in the hospital wing, but you did it, showing up with the pudding he liked—and you had no clue why you knew it. He was surprised to see it, looking away with a scoff, “why are you here, huh? To boast about your win?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes, “I came here to see if you were doing well but seeing as you can still work that mouth of yours, I’ll just assume it’s alright,” you huffed, leaving the pudding behind. Sunghoon gulped, watching you leave the hospital wing with a huff before eyeing the pudding and eating it, a sudden warmth spreading in his chest.

The bickering worsened since that day, because you had to overcome the fact that you showed care to him, your friends telling you to fuck the sexual tension out—which you won’t do even in your wildest dreams.

Sunghoon was just as furious cause he couldn’t stop thinking about you showing up at the hospital wing just to visit him, his taunts and that smirk annoying you more than ever now, you just wanted to punch him, or shut him up. It didn’t help that he looked awfully attractive with that smirk of his.

Fighting even during the dinner time was getting on everyone’s nerves, to the point you had to go to detention for pulling pranks on each other.

To diffuse this tension, he met you before the next quidditch match you had against him, “oh, ready to have your ass beat, Park?” You asked him with a mock smile.

“We’ll see who gets their ass beat, darling,” he spoke, invading your personal space by whispering in your ear, “let’s make a bet, if I win then I get to fuck you tonight.”

“What the fuck, Park?” You asked, eyes widened.

“You want it too, baby.” He says, a lazy smirk playing on his face, “besides, I won’t bother you ever again if I lose. So, do we have a deal?”

The deal was too tempting, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the fact that you’ll, (1) either be ignored by him or (2) have sex with him.

You grabbed his hand, shaking it with no aim whatsoever, you felt too lost but also determined to put up a good game.

However your mind was busy imagining his lips on yours, the smirk still present on his face, and that’s how you barely put the Quaffle in through the hoops while Sunghoon played with more energy than ever, awfully determined to win the match—win you.

The verdict? He won.

And as lost as you felt, you weren’t sad about it, in fact you were staring at Hoon who was celebrating, his eyes still on yours with that stupid smirk on his face which clearly said: you’re mine for the night.

Being in his room was crazy, the fact that he had successfully pushed out all his roomies was even crazier.

“Not fighting back anymore, kitten?” He raised his brows, his features looking sharper up close now that he had you under him, his weight on you barely giving you any space to move, his scent only driving you crazier.

“You’re the one who gave up, Park,” you finally whispered, pulling him closer by the collar with your usual expression full of mock, your finger tracing his jawline, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, “you proposed the idea of fucking me—been thinking about me then?”

His fingers traced the curve of your neck, trailing down till he settled on grabbing your waist, “what if I have? What if I wanna see you shut the fuck up when I make you cry on my cock?”

“I’d like to see you try,” you chuckled, pushing your knee up to caress against his crotch, making him hiss.

It didn’t take him any longer to practically rip off your robes, attaching his mouth to your nipples, flicking them with his tongue as he cupped your cunt as a warning to shut your mouth, but you couldn’t let him win, opening your mouth to mock him again, only to have his tongue shoved down your throat, his fingers kneading your flesh, rubbing your wetness with all his strength to have you whimpering under him.

“I hate you so much, Park,” you mumbled, breathless.

“Feeling’s mutual, kitten,” he groaned right beside your ear, finger fucking you now as his thumb worked your clit roughly, yet giving you the kind of pleasure you never thought you’d receive.

You feel hot as the guy you hate makes you moan uncontrollably, stopping right before you were about to reach your high with his same stupidly attractive smirk when you whined out of desperation.

“What’s the hurry, kitten? We’ve got all night.”

© jaylaxies | tumblr

[melobin]

cockwarming with riize ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

minors dni. @cupidslovearrows hehe enjoy <3

shotaro

shotaro can handle cockwarming, but he doesn’t necessarily like it. he has to be in the mood for it and the majority of the time he isn’t. he likes to be able to move when he’s inside of you, wants to be able to fuck you instead of sitting still. there are the rare occasions he likes it and those tend to be after sex, especially when he’s had a more tiring, draining day. the thought of curling up with you, fucking you slowly whilst making out and then falling asleep being stuffed inside of you is a dream to him. plus, you both wake up needing one another again after so the thinks that’s an added bonus. if you tried to tease him with it, he’d entertain you for a while. letting you play with him until he cannot do it anymore, wouldn’t be afraid to beg quietly in your ear, sweet talking you in a whiny voice about how good you feel when you’re sucking in his cock and how hard you make him cum. knows exactly what to say to you to get you to ride him the way he wants.

eunseok

eunseok would be horrible, to you at least. he has the self restraint to sit with you on his cock for hours, and he’ll do so until you break and beg for him to fuck too. cockwarming isn’t a gentle nor comforting thing with eunseok, it’s borderline a punishment. he just wants to see how long you can last with him stuffed inside of you, stilled. it doesn’t stop when you beg for him to fuck you either, he won’t touch you properly until he’s taunted you. needs to tease you about being so desperate that you have to beg for him to fuck you, so cock hungry that all you can think about is being used by him and filled with him cum. makes sure to say it all lowly in your ear whilst holding you down on his cock, maybe sneaking a hand down to rub slow circles on your clit whilst he does so. makes you fuck yourself on his cock after since you were so needy for it.

sungchan

sungchan cannot handle it at all. he tries, he really does try, but he can’t. whether it’s before or after sex, just the feeling of your warm cunt squeezing around his cock turns him on far too much for him to be able to simply just sit still. if it’s you teasing him, he ends up whining into your neck about how and he needs you to move, needs to feel you fucking yourself on his cock more than anything and he wouldn’t be afraid of begging for it. whines when you tease him about not being able to last too, he’s too sensitive about it. if it’s him teasing you, it won’t last more than thirty seconds even if he’s trying his hardest. he’s just so obsessed with how you feel wrapped around him that he needs to fuck you, ends up fucking you with his head buried in your neck and his fingers gripping the sheets beside your head. usually ends up cumming more than one during those nights too.

wonbin

wonbin is a hit or miss, mainly a miss. whilst he can last, he cannot last long. he tries his hardest but he fails, his will power is not strong enough to deal with you being still whilst hugging his cock. it gets worse if you move at all, any sudden movement has his hands digging into your waist and his heart rate picking up. he’d be letting out shaky breaths whilst he tries to calm himself down but ultimately it fails, would end up fucking you on his cock whilst basking in the way your cunt sobs around his cock. those would be the nights where he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back from completely ruining you, just needs to hear you crying out again and again about how good he makes you. if you were to cockwarm him, then he’d be a complete wreck. any form of eye contact would ruin him, if you kissed him then he’d end up whimpering into the kiss, begging quietly with little pleads for you to do something, anything. gets so sweet and thankful when you do, whimpering about how good you feel whilst you milk him with your cunt.

seunghan

seunghan actually adores cockwarming, it’s one of his favourite things to do with you. he’s quite good at separating cockwarming from sex and he often sees it as an act of comfort rather than an act of pleasure or teasing. he just thinks there’s nothing more comforting than laying with you, being able to feel each and every inch of you, inside and out. wants your bare body pressed against his, with your hands on his skin and his cock pressed deep inside of you. despite the comfort of it, he does find it incredibly endearing if you do end up getting needy from it and he’s always happy to fuck you. thrusting slowly up into you whilst keeping you pressed against him and whispering sweet things to you. he’ll want to continue cockwarming after you’ve had sex, just can’t bare to not feel you wrapped around him.

sohee

sohee is a wreck from start to finish. to him, cockwarming is a punishment he absolutely doesn’t want to receive. he likes to think he’s a well mannered, put together man but cockwarming changes all of that. he just can’t do it, the moment he sinks into your heat all he wants to do is pull out and sink back in over and over again, the idea of pushing into you and not moving bothers him deeply. he’s tried it with you before, purely out of curiosity, and he hated it. he blames you, your cunt is just far too tempting for him to be able to keep still when inside of you. it’s just so wet and warm and inviting that he needs to be able to fuck you as soon as he’s pushing into you and he just cannot stay still. his impatience is endearing in a way, especially because of how flushed and pouty he gets when you don’t move.

anton

anton actually has a lot of self restraint and will power, years of swimming taught him how to control his body and it’s incredibly useful in all situations. however, being stuffed inside your cunt and being unable to move is not one of them. cockwarming came about because you wanted to play a game to see who could go the longest without moving and anton wanted to entertain you, he also really wanted to win, he just underestimated his ability to be able to hold himself back when it comes to you. hint, he lost. he did find there to be some aspects of comfort and a lot of warmth with it, but he feeling of his cock throbbing with your walls tightly hugging him overpowered the comfort a lot and made it almost painful for him. if he’s hard to the point it hurts, then he knows he needs to fuck you and that’s how he ended up during cockwarming.

[johnbrand]

Runner's Gas

“Well if it isn’t our little Spark!” Brick playfully taunted, twisting around the black cap on his head. “Looking to catch up to the big leagues?”

Aaron rolled his eyes, continuing to stretch out his toned, limber legs. “What, are you afraid I’m going to catch up to your varsity team?”

Brick smirked. “You wouldn’t dare.” As captain, and the fastest runner on the team, the college senior was proud of his position on top.

“Maybe I would,” Aaron’s smile held that youthful glow all overachievers had. Although he was only a sophomore, he had been sweeping competitions left and right. No one was able to beat him and his “spark of energy” that was always reserved for the last second, hence his nickname.

“What do you say we put it to the test?” Brick prompted, his lithe frame already warmed up after a few quick laps. Besides being a bit taller than Aaron, their runner’s builds were almost identical. 

“If you’re willing to lose,” Aaron cockily replied, enjoying the friendly competition. He could feel the build of adrenaline slowly pumping throughout his veins. A brisk wind was lightly pushing against them, tickling their bare skin. “Mind if I lunge once or twice?”

“Not at all,” Brick remarked, taking his place a few steps behind. “Gives me a chance to take in your backside, seeing as I won't have the pleasure of viewing it again.”

Aaron followed through with his final stretches, feeling his slim muscles flex and retract appropriately. He was excited for this challenge, pleasantly daunted to be taking on his school’s top champ. Their times had been fairly similar, but being in different leagues had meant the two had never been able to compete.

Getting lost in his own head, Aaron did not realize his bowels were rapidly processing information. His body was inappropriately following through with hereditary protocols, having accidentally registered Brick as a threat. Finishing his final lunge, Aaron registered the dreadful rippling in his stomach. But at that point, there was no stopping what was coming next. Aaron’s excitement immediately twisted into fear.

“Watch out!”

PPPPHHHRRTTTT!

Brick had no time to prepare as a massive fart cloud was carried downwind directly into his face. The flatulence bombarded him, its odorous vapors blinding him temporarily and knocking him onto his flat bottom. Aaron immediately rushed in, desperately searching for a way to reverse what had been done. Luckily no one had seen the incident, as the chemical reaction that was about to ensue was–as far as Aaron knew–unreversable.

Brick was sitting back comfortably, dazed and desensitized by the prey’s natural defense. Aaron had accidentally attacked the college senior with runner’s gas. An evolutionary condition, runner’s gas was a fumigation technique used by “weaker” species to protect themselves against predators. The flatulence released altered the predator’s abilities, rendering them bulkier, slower, and dumber, allowing the prey to flee. It was a genetic trait that should have eroded away with evolution, particularly as humans grew more alike. But some were still left with the condition, making its activation incredibly rare and almost always unintentional.

Aaron watched helplessly as Brick’s skin began to ripple. The track star’s body expanded in size, growing taller, longer, and larger. Muscle exploded across his frame, destroying the slim physique by covering it in layer after layer of pure-grade beef. Rounded arms led into broader shoulders, pillowy pecs led straight down to a thicker pack of eight abdominals. Thighs bulked into true haunches, feet so large that their width would prevent them from travelling quickly without the risk of tripping.

As Brick’s buttocks and pouch inflated, Aaron’s eyes trailed up along his victim's body, following the swarm of hair that swiftly painted itself along the surface of skin. He could do nothing as Brick’s jaw cracked into a square shape, as his forehead pushed itself a bit farther out, or as the twinkle of intelligence was dimmed in his eyes. As quick as it had come, the chemical reaction rapidly subsided, leaving behind a new dumb jock in its wake.

“Hey…” Aaron cautiously poked, the college senior now twice his size. He knew they would have to move before anyone saw them. There was one person in particular that he feared.  “Come on, we need to get you out of here before-”

“McNeal!” 

The coach’s gruff shout sent a shiver under Aaron’s skin. He was too late.

“What is this, your fifth one?” The coach was shaking his head as he approached. “It’s one thing to be gassing the competition, but your own team?” 

“It…it was an accident,” Aaron stared at his own feet, embarrassed.

The coach huffed, “Who was it this time?” The affected party was still sitting on the ground, brainwashed and stretching his new muscles slowly. “McNeal…is this my captain?!”

Aaron said nothing. They both watched as the dumb jock began to take in his surroundings.

“Brock,” the coach provided the former captain with a new name. “What are you doing on the track? Football practice takes place on the other side of the complex.

Brock took a moment to process this. “Oh right...." his chuckle was lifeless. “Huhuhuh…I can be so stupid sometimes.” Aaron and the coach simply observed as Brock accepted this new reality.

“Luckily for you,” the coach sighed. “We needed a few more boys on the football team.”

[blacknailsandheartbreak]

Part 2 to how the group cannot fathom how you and Zuko are so close with your angel of a self and Zuko being... well, Zuko

AN: OKAY! Look at me go, coming out with a part two. I think I might do a part two to some previous pieces of mine but we will see.

SO this is a part two, so you can read the first one here, it will give some context clues into this second part of the story (but can probably be read solo) : Part 1

Any who, ~2300 word count, enjoy :)

KIDDIE FREE ZONE

Good Friends

That's all you guys were. Good Friends. Zuko kept telling himself he had no reason to be so bothered by that statement, but he was. He didn't want to be just good friends, but you had given a better answer then he would have in your position. But now the Gaang has been flying for the past couple days and has given him lots of time for thinking. Especially having you for the majority of the time sitting with him leaning against his arm, grazing legs, as you were not shy to the general touch. You always seemed to start up the conversations with him, your way of speech held him in interest, but as already known, he never said much back, but always was happy to listen.

But ever since that last night of camp a few days ago he cannot let the thought go. Good Friends. He knew that the talks you two have, the moments you both cherish, and the secrets you two shared was enough of a connection to be more than just good friends, or at least in his mind it was. You two were absolutely glued to the hip, and seemed to be together, just without the title. Zuko was fine with no title, he would rather the group didn't know but for you two to have that clarity is what he was craving. He knew there were other things that were more important at the moment but it couldn't calm down in his mind. He had to know, he wanted to be together. Even if that became another secret you both shared he would gladly add it to the pile.

As the afternoon began to fall fast on the fourth day of travel, the Gaang was running low on rations and decided to hit the next market in the upcoming town. Upon arrival, Aang and Sokka grabbed Zuko to tackle their list as Katara and Toph grabbed you to get the remaining items. Zuko was hoping to buddy up with you but it would have to wait. As the group divided and conquered, Sokka was getting very nosy with Zuko about a certain someone. Zuko ignored all of his questions or what felt like more accusations. Meanwhile the girls had finished with their tasks and Toph had somehow gotten into a gambling match with the remaining money they had and won every time. You stood back leaning against a nearby wall smiling, not wanting anything to do with the situation but you weren't going to interfere either. You feel a brush against your shoulder and look up to see Zuko, you smile and greet Aang and Sokka. You ask how their huntings went and they all agreed it had gone well. Zuko looked at you and asked if Toph and Katara were seriously gambling the little money they had left. You laughed and were about to answer but before you could Toph came over with a large bag and tossed it at Zuko. He caught it effortlessly, and it jingled heavily. All of the boys eyes widened, and Toph said "We will be sleeping well tonight thanks to yours truly."

The Gaang walked around the town as the night grew darker and the many street lamps glowed near and far, Zuko's mind still buzzing with the taunting thought of good friends. Maybe he was over thinking it and there was already an unspoken agreement you two were together? Or was he being weird and obsessive? Or maybe you had a completely different view on all of it? Or maybe-

His thoughts were cut off by you linking your arm through his and pointing out the beautiful lights, from the shops, to concessions, to the fountains, to the groups of lively people. He looked down at you and for the first time, he wasn't really listening to you. He just looked at you, looked at your smile as if you knew this moment was made just for you. He would forever be in awe at how effortlessly you spoke as if you had already rehearsed it one hundred times. He feels your genuine happiness and spirit in your eyes as you look up at him and he wonders how you hold such grace through everything. All his thoughts left his mind as he looked at you and thought, yeah, that is my girl.

Once the Gaang decided to call it a night, you all looked for an Inn to stay at for the night. There was not much of an option in the small town, so you all entered the closest place and the lady at the front desk greeted you all with a warm smile. Aang went to talk with the lady and brought back a handful of keys. Everyone was confused as he handed everyone their own key and explained that they only had single rooms left for the night. Nobody really complained as everyone seemed they could use some time to themselves. Everyone shuffled into their rooms with quick goodnights, but before Zuko walked through his door, he looked over his shoulder at your direction, and there you were. Walking into your room and almost as if you felt his eyes you looked over your shoulder and stopped for a moment, you smiled at Zuko and gave a small wave of goodnight before stepping into your room and closing the door. Zuko's eyes stayed on your room for a moment longer, before a small tap on his shoulder made him spin around. It was Katara. Zuko was lost for words. Katara smiled and whispered "I won't tell, not that is isn't already so obvious, but you should really talk to her." Before Zuko could respond to her she waved goodnight and walked into her room. He stood in the hallway like a man who was shot and was too afraid to move. He looked back at your door, he felt the longing in every part of his being to just go and knock on your door and say everything he has been thinking just like you do. How you so effortlessly say exactly what you're thinking, that is what he wanted to do. He wanted to tell you what it meant to him to have someone like you become so close to someone like him. He wanted to tell you that the secrets you both shared with each other meant the world to him and he would take them to his very grave if you wished so. He wanted to tell you that every time you smiled it felt like it was for him and him only. But he didn't. He walked back into his room and shut the door.

Zuko got ready for bed and laid down for a few minutes, he tossed and turned and his chest felt so heavy. He let out a sigh as he laid on his back and placed a hand on his chest with the other one behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling. Zuko let out a small grunt of frustration when he got up, deciding to go get some water. He grabbed the bucket from the small table in the room and walked towards the door. Zuko grabbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation and pulled his hand down his face, he went and opened the door and to his complete shock, there you stood. You looked almost as surprised as he did. You both stood in silence for a moment, and for the first time, Zuko spoke first. He asked if you were alright, because the last thing he expected was for you to be standing at his door in the middle of the night. You replied softly, saying you were ok, just had a lot on your mind. You noticed Zuko holding the bucket for water and offered to go with him to fetch some, he agreed. This time you both walked in silence to retrieve the water and walked in silence back to the rooms. You both came to stand outside Zuko's room and he asked if you were sure you were ok, and you replied that you were, probably just over tired. Zuko looked at you and asked you if you wanted to come into his room. You smiled softly and insisted you didn't want to intrude. He didn't respond and just motioned you inside, you accepted and walked in, Zuko shut the door behind you.

Zuko grabbed the ladle and poured you some water while you sat on the bed, he handed you the cup. You smiled and thanked him as you grabbed the cup and took a sip. Zuko sits next to you and rests his elbows on his thighs and looks down between his knees to the floor, he's not sure how he wants to go about tonight. He has no idea where to start, no idea how to talk or truly express his thoughts. He worries about sounding like a bumbling fool compared to your angelic soft spoken way of words. But before he could think further, the bed shifted and you were now directly beside Zuko with your head leaning on his shoulder. He looked up and he knew he wanted this, he wanted to be the one to call you his. He wanted to be by your side every step of the way and watch you regain the pride of being a fire bender. He wanted to have you by his side helping him with the path of change after the comet, and he didn't want to do it as good friends, he wanted to do it together. Zuko took in a deep breath, and asked "Do you really think we are just good friends?" and without a breath missed you replied "I knew your ears were on fire that night." you sat up with that comment, Zuko smirked and chuckled, you two were very close now, mere inches from each other's faces. "But no..." you replied, "I don't think we are just good friends, do you?" Zuko looked into your eyes, they seemed to shimmer the most beautiful shade of amber even with the liminal lighting in the room. "I don't think so either." He replied. Zuko saw your eyes dart to his lips and back to his eyes but the second your gaze connected back with his, he was already pulling you into a kiss. He put his hand just under your ear, along your jaw, pulling you in gently, as if giving you an option to back out. But you didn't, you leaned in and placed your hand on his arm and you kissed deep. Zuko lavished in this moment and if there was any way he could pull you in even closer he would. You pulled away first and looked at Zuko, he looked at you with so many emotions, "We are together." he stated. You smiled so wide and nodded, for the first time you were speechless and practically tackled Zuko to the bed, kissing him so deeply while he gladly reciprocated with the same action. You were straddling Zuko as he effortlessly flipped you over on the bed so he was now on top, you placed both your hands on his jaw and leaned up to give him a small kiss and then laid back down. "Would you stay with me tonight?" Zuko asked, you smiled, "Of course I will, I thought you'd never ask." Zuko rolls his eyes and leans down for a kiss but you halt his actions by asking, "What about the others, they will see me leaving your-" Zuko cuts you off with a soft kiss and after responds "I don't care, they can make their own assumptions." You smile so happily and nod your head, "But, they are going to ask questions-" you started but again Zuko cut you off before you can overthink, "So answer them however you want to, however you feel is right." He leans down and kisses you so romantically, and moves to your cheek, and down to your jaw, and making his way to your neck, you let out the smallest gasp. You could feel tingles all throughout your body, from your fingertips to your toes. This was the moment you were both waiting for, Zuko knew this is what he wanted, he wanted you now, tomorrow, the day after that, the months that follow and the years to come. You were his as much he was yours. He gave himself to you that night as you gave yourself to him. Both vulnerable to one another, savouring each movement, each touch, every breath you both shared. The night was exactly what you both wanted, it was what you both needed.

The next morning Zuko woke up with you laying on his chest and his arms wrapped around you. Both of you spent the morning getting ready and just smiling at each other, no lingering feeling or questions of what ifs. You could both just be together.

It was time to check out and continue the journey, so you both gathered all your belongings and walked to the door. You both stopped and you looked at Zuko, "They are going to ask." you stated, and Zuko looked right back at you, "Then answer." he replied. He opened the door and the Gaang was waiting in the hall. Katara was the first to see you both exit and she tried to hide her smile with a polite hand, the others turned to look and were caught a blank. Zuko shut the door with you standing by his side. You greeted everyone and you both walked towards the group, "What are you all staring at, let's head out." Zuko said so nonchalantly, everyone stood in silence for a second longer and proceeded on like nothing happened.

[dreamlandcreations]

In your honour

Feyd-Rautha x Reader

Summary: Feyd tricks you into engagement...

Warnings: implied Atreides!Reader (bc I can't help but ship that ship most) = enemies to lovers (to be), Reader is a bit of a judgy little grump, harassment, misogyny, fight to the death, Feyd is a smitten sneaky little menace, made up Harkonnen customs, hints of angst here and there

🖤 special thank you to @stopeatread and @kasagia for the comments that kept me going 🖤

~ 1,8K words

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The celebration for eliminating the Fremen threat was planned to last for a week. You had more than enough of it on the first day though, of the party, of the people, of the black and white planet altogether. You wanted to leave but that would be an insult to the Harkonnens, the hosts of the event, and the fragile peace between your families couldn't take a blow like that.

The Baron was gracious enough to give your family the credit that was due for this achievement, and as one of the honoured guests, you had to be present for all of these nights of celebration, form start to end.

The smalltalk bored you to death, the men were looking at you like meat, and the way the Baron treated the servants made you sick. No, scratch that, the Baron made you sick.

The only remotely good thing was surprising to say the least. The na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, who shared your feelings towards the gathered nobles and who proved to be not just an excellent company for your brooding through most of the days you've had to spend here so far but his presence also scared away the men who wanted to try to make a decent or indecent proposition to you.

When you mentioned the offers you received Feyd became irritated but his slightly teasing and a bit accusatory questioning of your too high standards covered up the real reason behind his increasing anger. He didn't want anyone else to even have a chance to have you. It was only the third day of knowing you but he knew he will not be able to let you go. His initial amusement and fascination quickly became an unstoppable obsession and you had no idea.

Not even when the conversation went as far as him trying to convince you that you should take a chance with someone sooner or later and you might have a say in the matter unlike most noble ladies. Your answer stayed with him for the next few days.

"I have no illusions, I know there's no such thing as a perfect match but I want someone who will not try to change me, who I can trust just as much as they can trust me. Someone who would care for me even if love is not an option, someone who could be gentle with me."

That did not help with his anger. He knew it was not your intention but you basically told him that he had no chance. Trust? Care? Kindness? That was everything you can't find in his family. Feyd-Rautha was very well aware he was not right for you but no matter what the tiny little voice of what's left of his conscience told him, he couldn't let you go.

The opportunity came on the second to last day of the celebrations. He had other obligations, so you were left alone to mingle. Feyd kept an eye on you but he didn't notice the Harkonnen general approach you until you made a scene.

The general fell on his knees from the force of your hit that also broke his nose. He quickly recovered though, standing up in a quick motion, stepping into your personal space once again as he threatened you.

"You will pay for that," he said as he tried to grab you again but you stepped back, kicking him in the knee, making him stumble again.

"Try to put your hands on me again and I will end you," you practically growled your response but it only elicited a mocking laugh from the entitled man.

"If you want a fight, little witch, name your champion," he taunted as he straightened once again.

"I can fight my own battles." You declared with your head held high, not letting this excuse of a man making you feel small under his towering height.

The fool tutted at you like you were an ignorant child. "Not here, you can't."

Before you could respond a now familiar, oddly rough and soft voice declared, "I will fight for her."

The gasps across the room were followed by eerie silence. The natives of this planet knew what that meant, the na-Baron was not from your family or in your servitude, therefore, according to thier law his offer changed the challenge and now the price was much higher than the question of your honour.

He descended down the stairs from where he was talking with his uncle and some other nobles not a minute ago. It was a slow, predatory display of movement that made you shiver.

Feyd stopped in front of you but didn't take his eyes off the general until the man confirmed the acceptance of the challenge with a nod. The foul man had the audacity to grin at you with a dark intention of what he will do if he wins.

You look away from that as the na-Baron finally turns to you. His expression is unreadable as he studies you in silence.

"Why?" you finally ask.

His lips pull to a smile but he stops it as he leans in to be level with your downcast eyes. "Why not?"

You clench your fists, insisting,"I am perfectly capable of fighting."

"As he said, that's not how things work here." He bent down until his lips brushed the shell of your ear, making you shiver for an entirely different reason as he whispered, "Maybe you can give me a private demonstration later?"

You huffed, pushing at him by a hand on his chest. He let you but he caught your hand and kept it there, right above his heart as he looked down at you with an unsettling smile glinting in his eyes.

"Show me your blade," he orders, finally letting go of your hand but holding your gaze captive with his.

You take in a shuddering breath as you reply, "I don't know what you're talking about. We were searched for weapons..."

He cuts you off with an amused and accusing look, his brows, or rather where they would be raise in a mocking but expectant move as his drags his gaze slowly over your face and neck, right to the place where your breasts are straining against your dress' corset with each heavy breath.

Your lips part in surprise and that makes him look up, mesmerised for a second before he delivers a more impatient form of that taunting look. Clenching your jaw, you look away for a second, a half shake of your head at this situation is all you can afford. Then you reach into the front of your dress, pulling out the hidden blade and hand it to him.

Fey studies the intricate design of the sheath of the weapon before pulling the blade out, testing the edge against his fingertips. His full lips turn up in a satisfied smile and you are about to comment on it when he presses the sheath to your lips, stunning you once again.

He keeps the light smile as he moves your right hand again to grab the item, his hold sliding from your hand to your wrist as he guides your moves, settling the piece above your heart, making you cross your arm across your chest.

Your heart is beating at an insane beat as you eye him with suspicion, very deep down realising what is about to happen.

"Why are you doing this?" you whisper, scared to even make the question, let alone hear the answer.

He grins at you, saying, "Don't worry, I will collect my reward after I dealt with him."

With that he stepped back, putting your blade to his lips and mimicking the gesture he made you perform, then he walked away from you to go back to the podium where his opponent was already waiting for him.

They stood at a few feet from each other, in fighting stance, ready to attack the moment the Baron would let them.

The fight would have been quick but Feyd had other plans.

It was plain to see that the na-Baron was a far better fighter. And given the stories, you know the general must have seen the younger man fight in the arena before so you concluded that he indeed was an utter fool.

You stood there where he left you, surrounded by the morbidly fascinated audience that was witnessing his display. Because that's what it was a show put on for everyone to see.

Yes, he wanted to make the bastard suffer but it was more than that. This will be an example of what happens when someone tries to take away what is his, and all the while it is a chance to show his true power over a real opponent. So Feyd attacked, cut and then retreated to observe the man then he repeated the process. Again and again, until the general couldn't stand. Then Feyd-Rautha cut his throat with a swift move as the defeated man was kneeling before him.

The Baron laughed and spoke to the room, announcing that his nephew just won a wife and everyone was staring at you with disbelief while Feyd-Rautha was basking in his victory. You didn't hear or see any of it though, your focus solely on him, already knowing your fate without anyone telling you.

The next thing you knew the na-Baron was marching towards you and he grabbed you by your nape, pulling you into a forceful kiss. His lips pressing on yours, teeth biting into your lower lip, probably drawing blood as he demanded your surrounder. You gasped at the pain, granting him his wish of you opening up to him and he didn't hesitate to deepen the kiss, claiming you publicly while your knees wobbled and you were holding onto him for dear life.

When he finally leaned back, he was smiling as he cupped your cheek with his free hand. "Aren't you going to congratulate me, my lovely bride?"

"Why? You already claimed your reward." Your answer was filled with anger but he didn't mind, he will make you forgive him, he was sure of it. But he couldn't help himself with a little more teasing because he liked to see that fire in your eyes.

"Not yet, my darling. Although if you can't wait for the wedding night, I wouldn't be against it."

You scoff and look away, your gaze finding your father and his mentat discretely arguing then looking back at you. They answer your silent question with a sorrowful expression and your father lightly shakes his head, meaning there is no way to avoid this.

Witnessing the exchange, Feyd clenches his jaw, and he roughly grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"No!" he quietly growls through his teeth. "You are mine."

With that, he closes the distance between you again, this time kissing you longer and in a much more gentle manner despite his anger at your reaction. It's a promise that he hopes you understand. For you, he will try.

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[sarahscribbles]

𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟗𝟕𝟒

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐠𝐞

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Both hands slam onto the wooden headboard with such force that the entire bed frame seems to shake, and through half lidded eyes you watch your knuckles change colour against the wood. It isn’t the first time you’ve assaulted the bed frame this evening, and with the way Loki’s tongue is skillfully sliding through your cunt while you straddle his face, it won’t be the last. 

His quiet hum of satisfaction floats up from between your thighs, and the soft vibrations are enough to have you flutter wildly around him. You chance a glimpse down at the god who’s been lying between your legs for the past half hour, moaning softly at the gloriously debauched sight that meets your eyes. 

Loki is lying contentedly among the pile of pillows on your bed, ink black curls fanned out around him and a pretty pink blush staining his cheeks while he pleasures you. Elegant fingers are curled tightly around your thighs to hold you in place, gripping you so tightly that you anticipate a tiny line of bruises will form by the morning. 

He’s a work of art, really. 

“You are fucking gorgeous.” You can’t help but praise him, because there’s no sight on Earth comparable to Loki’s head between your legs. His answering deep hum sends a sharp ripple of pleasure twisting through your core, pulling a satisfied groan from your parted lips in its wake.  

It’s impossible to tear your eyes from him as he lies between your legs. Each sinful swirl of his tongue and appreciative moan goes straight to your head, but then he moves his head just enough for you to catch the shine of your own arousal coating the tip of his nose and upper lip. That alone is almost enough to send you into orbit, that is, until Loki’s eyes lock with yours and he licks a long, slow line along the length of your cunt, pulling you as close to his mouth as he physically can. 

It feels so good, so blindingly good, that for a second you’re unable to speak, unable to do anything but drown in the warm, wet feel of Loki’s tongue.

Your hands curl tighter around the headboard, but you don’t take your eyes of Loki for even a second. “Fucking…menace!” you cry out, only to feel him smile against your cunt as he returns to teasing and taunting. “Loki, I - fuck!” Whatever you were about to say is swiftly lost when he then dips that skilled tongue inside you. 

All you can manage is a strangled whimper while he fucks you with his tongue. He’s expertly building you towards the edge, in the gloriously depraved way that only he can, and you send up an unending stream of thanks to the universe that this god loves you.

Because no one before him has ever been so attuned to your pleasure, or so eager to ceaselessly place it before their own. 

“Nothing arouses me more than pleasuring you, dove.” He had said little over half an hour ago, silencing your objections as he had coaxed you over his face. 

That beautiful face is now peering up at you with reverence, as though he’s ached to worship you all his life and tonight you’ve granted his every wish. His tongue laps at your cunt with something close to desperation and, not five minutes later, you feel his hands slide along your thighs to grip your hips, clamping you firmly against his face to give his undivided attention to your clit. 

You clench wildly on top of him, beginning to rock your hips in an attempt to chase the release that’s building like a storm in your core. “Fuck, Loki, keep doing that! Please, please, please!” you plead with him. 

The coil in your core is twisted tight and about to snap, promising a blinding release. It’s glittering before you like a new star - all you need is that wickedly talented tongue.  

Curses and pleas continue to fall like spring rain from your lips, and Loki is the ever benevolent god. Before long, your climax crashes down around you with such force it rips the breath from your lungs. Tiny stars dance at the edges of your eyes and you grind wildly against your lover's face. 

Loki watches you intently, his eyes sparkling as you come undone for him. You make sure to cry out his name as soon as you’re able, letting everyone in a ten mile radius know that every part of you belongs to him. 

Your thighs are trembling on each side of Loki’s head, your heartbeat a pounding drum in your chest. You’re panting as you come down off your high, basking happily in the golden afterglow of your orgasm…

But then you realise that Loki’s tongue is still buried in your sensitive cunt.

“Mpmh, Loki…too much,” you whimper, trying to lift off his face. 

Loki’s hands only curl tighter around your hips, refusing to grant even a seconds reprieve. You squirm on top of him, because the sensitivity really is too much, but a soft warmth in your wrists acts as a momentary distraction. 

Glancing up, you see the deep green ribbons that are now tying your wrists to the headboard, effectively immobilising you and leaving no option but to remain where you are. 

You feel Loki smirk between your thighs and the mischief that’s dancing in his eyes only confirms how absolutely fucked you are. “Please…no more…,” you plead weakly, but his sinful tongue remains deep in your cunt. 

Within seconds, the beginnings of another orgasm are fizzling in your core and, through the heavy haze that’s settled over your shoulders, you vaguely remember Loki’s delicious promise from earlier in the evening, only now you can see it for what it was: a threat. 

“I won’t stop, darling. You have my word.”

[rafedaddy01]

rafe fucking the Bev cart girl and recording it for black mail

love your work 🥰

-

You drove the little golf cart around the entire course, making your usual stops, greeting customers, and taking their drink orders. You flashed your pearly whites and bent over just the right way in that mini skirt, hoping for extra tips. Your last group of players was particularly annoying: Rafe Cameron and his friends Topper and Kelce. The trio were regulars at the club, and you had the displeasure of being their bev girl nearly every time. Rafe, in particular, was an asshole—one of those guys who spends daddy’s money without a care for anyone else’s enjoyment. You’d never admit it, especially to him, but he was as gorgeous as he was insufferable. The other two weren’t as bad as Rafe. They’d throw out comments, but only after Rafe did, almost like they were trying to win his approval.

You drove the little wagon over to their usual spot, offering your greeting with a practiced smile—though this time, you flashed a little less of it, just enough to still earn the tips you desperately needed. As expected, they ordered the usual: two beers and a whiskey for Rafe. You bent down into the cooler to grab the beers, the cool air hitting your face as you heard a whistle from behind you. You turned around, finding Rafe standing there with a golf club positioned behind his neck, his arms gripping the metal ends as his biceps flexed against the fabric of his shirt. The sight made your legs clench involuntarily, and for a split second, you couldn’t help but imagine how effortlessly he could pick you up and toss you around, no problem at all.

He took a step closer, his eyes roaming your body like a man starved. “Lookin’ good, princess,” he murmured, his voice laced with lust. You rolled your eyes, annoyed but not surprised, handing him his drink before turning to walk toward the boys behind him. As you approached them, you handed off their beers, exchanging a polite smile with Topper and Kelce. You could hear them chuckling quietly, no doubt feeding off Rafe’s energy. When you turned back, you found Rafe leaning casually against your cart, his smile almost charming for a moment. His eyes lit up when he spotted you, a glint of amusement in them. You couldn’t help but feel a slight flutter in your chest, but then you remembered exactly who you were dealing with. With a sigh, you walked back to the cart, preparing to take off. “That’s right, keep walking, princess,” Rafe called out, his tone cocky, but his eyes following closely. You didn’t respond, hopping into the seat and starting the engine, ready to leave the group behind. But then, just as you were about to pull away, you heard him again, “when are you gonna let me taste that pussy of yours, y/n?” The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and before you could fully process them, you felt the warmth of his breath on your neck your head felt dizzy as you realized how close he was, his voice low and taunting, practically breathing down your neck as he leaned over the cart. His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. The scent of his cologne, that signature mix of sandalwood and whiskey, flooded your space, making it hard to think straight. You didn’t even know how to respond, your body tensing as you fought to regain your composure.

“Gonna let me do it right now?” Rafe smirked, clearly enjoying the shock on your face. He’d always made those flirty little comments, teasing you about how you made his drink or how you looked in that uniform. But this was different—he’s never come on this strong before. The sudden directness made your heart race, and to your dismay, a tingle shot through your core. You hated that you craved more of it.You nodded slowly, unsure of what the hell you were getting yourself into, but feeling a pull toward him that you couldn’t deny. Rafe tsked in mock disappointment, but there was no hiding the amusement in his eyes. He threw his golf club back toward his friends with a casual flick of his wrist, informing them he’d be right back. Without missing a beat, he slid into the empty seat beside you. The engine hummed to life as you started to drive away, your mind spinning, not entirely sure if you were making the right decision—or if you even cared anymore.

Next thing you knew you were parked off not to far from topper and Kelce, it wasn’t exactly a secluded spot. Just an area with some trees and tall grass. Anyone could walk buy and see you shamelessly bent over the seat to your cart, skirt covering the way Rafes cock pushed in and out of your sticky folds, teasing the poor hole he’d been abusing for 10 minutes straight.

Rafe made to his promise and ate you out like a mad man, before. shoving his tongue inside you and sucking all the liquids you had to give him. He made you see stars with the way his tongue danced on your clit, licking and sucking. Pulling away when you came all over his face and licking his lips like he had just sucked a lollipop.

You thought that was as good as it was gonna get until he flipped you over and shoved his cock inside you. His tip hitting your g-spot instantly. His palms coming to the front of you and pushing the flimsy top you had on to grope at your breasts.

“Such a pretty whore” flipped the little skirt up and swatted your ass, watching as the skin jiggled. “Takin my cock right here out in the open, where anyone could see” he smacked the skin again, watching it turn red and groaning when you moaned in pain. “Why don’t you turn around and say hi to the camera, baby. Wanna make sure I get the good shot of your fucked out face” the sentence makes all the pleasure dissipate as you look over your shoulder to see his phone camera pointed right at you. “Just a little reminder that I own you. Ever refuse me again and the whole island will see what a slut you really are”

He thrusted his hips faster, chasing his own high and forgetting completely about you as you hugged the seat you were pressed against and covered your mouth so he wouldn’t hear you moan, your tears spilling down your cheeks as you realized you now belonged to rafe Cameron and this was his plan all along. You fell right into his trap.

Taglist

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