#this ask made me laugh so hard. I KNEW it was coming I could feel it in my bones

[cherryxbooo]

Chosen

Summary: You feel dragged around by Oscar, always sidelined in favor of his friend group with no say in their or his plans. But what happens when the bucket finally overflows?

Note: Hey everyone I'm back, and this time with the long-awaited Oscar fic. I just wanted to let all of you know that the second semester of uni has started, so I want to apologize in advance for my inactivity. I hope you enjoy this one! 🌸

Reader x Oscar Piastri

Genre: fluff/angst

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and the sun was just starting to dip behind the clouds, casting a soft glow through the windows.

Oscar and I were sprawled out on the couch, his arm wrapped around me, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my arm.

The TV was on, but neither of us was paying much attention to it. We were content, enjoying the stillness of the moment, the quiet of our own little world.

"I’m glad we’re finally having a day to ourselves," Oscar murmured, his voice low and warm, sending a shiver down my spine.

He tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear, his touch so gentle it almost felt like a caress.

"Me too," I whispered, leaning into him, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the soft musk of his skin.

"It feels like it’s been forever."

His laugh rumbled through his chest.

"I know. Feels like we’ve barely had time to just... be."

We sat in silence for a moment, the kind of comfortable silence that only comes from being with someone you truly care about.

I felt safe here with him, like I could stay wrapped in this moment forever, untouched by the outside world.

It was these small, quiet moments that made everything feel okay.

Oscar shifted slightly, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at me.

"Hey babe, so, my friends are meeting up later. You know Jack and the others—"

I blinked up at him, already sensing where this was going.

"We’re going to meet up with them?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light, but it was a little harder than usual.

"Yeah, just for a drink," he said, his expression brightening, clearly excited about it.

"You’ll come, right?"

I smiled, but it was more of a reflex than anything.

"Sure, of course."

Oscar didn’t seem to notice my hesitation.

"Awesome. I know everyone will be happy to see you."

He leaned in to kiss my forehead, and I held my breath for just a second, trying to push down the tightness that had suddenly crept into my chest.

But I couldn’t help it. Inside, I felt... different.

I should’ve been excited, right? After all, meeting up with friends was supposed to be a good thing.

It was supposed to be something I looked forward to.

But instead, there was this nagging feeling in the back of my mind, a knot tightening in my stomach.

The truth was, I didn’t feel like I was part of his world when we went out with his friends.

Not really. Not like I belonged, at least. They weren’t unkind, it was just like I was an outsider.

I tried to insert myself into conversations, but they always slipped back into their own comfortable rhythm, talking about racing, about sim racing, about things I just didn’t have the same connection to.

I wasn’t part of that world, and no matter how hard I tried, I could never quite bridge the gap.

And it always seemed like they didn't want me to be part of their conversations either.

But I couldn’t tell Oscar that. He loved his friends. And I loved him.

So I went along with it, even though it made me feel more like an accessory than a partner sometimes.

I didn’t want to disappoint him. I didn’t want to be the girlfriend who said no when he asked her to join him.

I didn’t want to be the one who got in the way of his friendships. If I didn’t go, they’d talk behind my back.

I knew they would. And I didn’t want to be that girl. The one who held him back or made him feel like he had to choose.

So I smiled, nodded, and said, "Sure, of course," even if it wasn’t how I felt.

Oscar’s voice broke through my thoughts. "You’re quiet. Everything okay?"

I blinked up at him, forcing my smile to stay in place. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking."

He smiled back, completely unaware of the turmoil inside me.

"Alright, then. I’m looking forward to it."

I nodded, but my thoughts wandered again. There was always this underlying feeling that I wasn’t really meant to be there.

When Oscar wasn’t around, I could feel the silence in the air, like I was standing on the outside of their inside jokes, and no matter how much I tried to join in, it was always just a little too late.

It was easier when Oscar was right there beside me, talking to me, pulling me into the conversation.

But the second he was distracted, even for a moment, it was like I was invisible.

And no one noticed. Not even him. It was like only his friends existed and I didn't have any.

The worst part? It wasn’t just this one time.

It was every time. It was a routine, something that was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

I had tried. God, I had tried so many times to get him to come out with my friends.

Tried to bring it up casually, to suggest that maybe, just maybe, I could spend time with my own group for a change.

But it always got brushed off, like my friends didn’t really matter as much.

"Oh, babe, I thought you wanted to hang out with me," he’d say,

always with that playful grin, as if the suggestion that I might want a night out with my friends was absurd.

"Come on, you don’t want to miss out on the guys." And before I could even reply, he'd already be dragging me into some new conversation with his friends or making plans for something with them.

At first, I thought maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe one night with his friends wouldn’t hurt.

But then it happened again. And again.

And each time, my attempt to spend time with my own friends was met with that same dismissive ease, as if it wasn’t even an option.

I couldn’t tell him how much it stung. I didn’t want to cause tension or make him feel bad.

He was just... excited to be with his friends. And I was happy for him, really, I was.

But the more I gave in, the more I realized how much I was missing out on my own life, my own connections.

But I could never say it. Not out loud. Because I didn’t want to disappoint him.

I didn’t want him to think I didn’t care about his friendships, or worse—be seen as the girlfriend who couldn’t handle being around his friends.

I kept telling myself I was being unreasonable, that it was normal to spend so much time with his group. But deep down, I knew I was giving up something of myself every time.

And still, I went along with it. Like I always did.

"Alright, I’ll get ready," I said, trying to shake off the unease that had settled in my chest.

"Let’s go meet them."

Oscar grinned, clearly happy to see me gearing up for the night.

"I knew you’d come through," he said, giving me a quick, playful kiss on the cheek.

I returned his smile, but inside, I was already bracing myself for the evening.

For the smiles and the jokes, for the moments where I’d try to laugh along, to fit in, to make it through the night without feeling like I was losing myself a little more with each passing second.

I could do this. For him. Always for him.

But as I stepped into the bedroom to change, I couldn’t help but sigh.

Oscar and I arrived at the pub just as the evening sky darkened, the neon signs casting a warm glow against the wet pavement.

The usual buzz of London nightlife was already in full swing, and I could feel the energy in the air, but it felt so far removed from me.

I could hear the laughter and chatter before we even stepped inside.

Oscar grinned, pulling me by the hand toward the door, and I followed him through the dimly lit space, the noise growing louder with each step.

Inside, the group was already gathered around a corner booth, half of them already in animated conversation.

Mark waved enthusiastically when he saw us, and Max glanced up from his phone with a nod.

The others—Jake, Sam, and Alex—were busy talking, their voices overlapping in that easy camaraderie they all shared.

Oscar, being Oscar, was immediately pulled into the conversation, his friends already excitedly discussing whatever they were talking about.

Probably something related to their latest weekend plans or their favorite shows.

He easily fell into the rhythm of their group, nodding along and laughing, without even sparing a glance at me.

It felt like I was invisible, sitting on the edge of this conversation I didn’t quite belong to.

"Hey, Y/n!" Mark said with a grin, leaning over to give me a fist bump.

"How’s it going?"

"Good, good," I mumbled, trying to smile. "Just... chilling."

I took the seat beside Oscar, settling into the booth but immediately feeling the weight of the conversation happening around me.

Oscar was already in a deep conversation with Mark and Max, nodding along and laughing at something one of them had said.

His arm was draped over the back of my chair, but he wasn’t really looking at me.

His attention was all on them. And for some reason, tonight, it felt more obvious than usual.

I glanced at the table, at the half-empty drinks, the clinking of glasses as the guys cheered each other on.

And there I was, on the edge of it all, nursing my drink, my eyes flickering around the room but never really landing anywhere.

Tonight, I wasn’t even trying to engage anymore. It felt pointless.

I wasn’t sure if I had given up or if I was just... tired.

Tired of trying to fit into a space that didn’t feel like mine.

At some point, the conversation shifted, and I overheard Mark suggesting that they should all go snowboarding for the weekend.

The thought of a weekend away, filled with snow and action, was enough to make their voices rise a little louder, their enthusiasm palpable.

But what caught my attention wasn’t the idea itself—it was how quickly Oscar jumped on board.

"Yeah, that sounds awesome," he said, nodding without missing a beat.

"We can go that weekend. It’s perfect."

And just like that, the plan was made.

Everyone agreed, and the group easily fell into the flow of arranging details.

But what made my chest tighten was how Oscar didn’t even hesitate.

Not even a moment's thought. He was already locked in with them.

But worse—he didn’t even ask me.

He didn’t even look at me to see if I had plans or if I had something I wanted to do.

He just assumed, and what hit me harder was when he added, without a second thought, "Y/n will come with us, too."

Like I was an afterthought. Like my opinion didn’t even matter.

I froze, my stomach twisting.

That weekend was the same weekend I had planned to hang out with my own friends.

The same friends I hadn’t seen in forever, the ones I was constantly sidelining to go to Oscar’s hangouts.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like Oscar’s friends—I did, in my own way.

But the more this happened, the more I realized just how much I missed my own group.

I missed their jokes, the way we could just talk about anything and everything without the weight of racing and sim setups hovering over us.

I missed me—the version of myself that wasn’t always Oscar’s girlfriend, the one who had her own life too.

I was getting tired of always saying "yes," of always being the one who dropped whatever I had planned to follow him into his world.

But when I looked at Oscar, when I saw how excited he was to go snowboarding with his friends, I knew he wouldn’t understand.

He wouldn’t get why it bothered me that he didn’t ask, that he just assumed I’d follow him wherever he went.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. I needed to say something.

I should say something.

"Hey, Osc," I started, my voice just a little too tight.

"I had plans that weekend, actually... with my friends."

He didn’t even look at me.

He was still talking to Mark, leaning forward, already discussing the finer points of the snowboarding trip.

"Oh, you’ll be fine," he said with a wave of his hand. "It’ll be fun. Everyone’s going, right?"

He didn’t hear me. Didn’t even try to.

He just waved me off, like my plans didn’t matter.

I opened my mouth to say something, to try again, but before I could, Oscar’s attention was already back on Mark, and he was talking to Max about which resort to go to.

I felt the words catch in my throat, lost amidst the noise, as he dismissed me without even realizing it.

"Just wait, okay?" Oscar added his voice light, distracted.

"We’ll talk about it later, but let’s figure this out first."

And just like that, the conversation moved on.

I closed my mouth, my shoulders sinking.

I could feel the old familiar wave of frustration building up inside me, usually, I would just bite my tongue and swallow my pride.

But this time, something inside me snapped.

I was fed up. This was the last straw.

It wasn’t just the snowboarding weekend—it was everything.

The constant pushing aside of my feelings, my plans, my life outside of his world.

The way he always assumed my presence without ever considering what I wanted.

The way he took me for granted, not even realizing how much it hurt.

I couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine.

I couldn’t keep swallowing my frustration just to keep the peace.

I didn’t want to be the girlfriend who was always there, who always said yes, who always smiled and nodded.

I was done.

Done pretending.

Done sacrificing my own happiness for his.

Done being an afterthought in my own relationship.

It was time for me to finally say something.

After hours of the guys planning their trip, talking and laughing— it was finally time to wrap it up.

I couldn't be more relieved but there was still one thing on my mind and that was confronting Oscar.

We sat in the car as Oscar drove us back home.

The car ride home was silent.

Oscar drove with his usual relaxed demeanor, one hand on the wheel, the other resting absentmindedly on my thigh.

Usually, that gesture made my heart flutter, but tonight it felt more like a formality, a habit.

Something that no longer had the warmth it used to.

I stared out the window, watching the blur of city lights pass by.

My jaw was clenched so tightly I was starting to feel the ache in my teeth, but I didn’t care.

The frustration, the hurt, all of it was bubbling up inside me.

I knew I couldn’t go to bed tonight without getting it out. I had to say something.

So I did.

“Oscar.”

He hummed in response, eyes focused on the road ahead, his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel.

I hesitated, just for a moment.

But the frustration couldn’t be contained anymore.

“Why do we always hang out with your friends?”

His brow furrowed, and his eyes flicked toward me briefly before returning to the road.

“What do you mean love?”

I turned in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest, fighting the tightening in my throat.

“I mean every single time we go out, it’s always with your group. I never get to see my friends. You never let me make plans with them. Just yours.”

My voice wavered a little. “I always have to tag along.”

Oscar’s grip on the wheel tightened slightly, and he sighed. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” I said, my voice sharp.

“You always say ‘next time,’ but next time never comes. And when I bring it up, it’s like I’m asking for the world. I sit there with your friends, feeling like I don’t even exist, and you’re too busy to notice.”

His eyes flicked to me again, then back to the road.

“Y/n, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

I blinked, stunned by his response. “Are you serious?”

“What?” He shot me a quick look, confusion flickering in his eyes.

“You’re acting like I’m forcing you.”

“You do force me, Oscar,” I snapped, my voice rising.

“You never ask. You just expect me to go along with whatever you’re doing. And the one time I try to suggest something for me—something with my friends—you brush it off, or you convince me I don’t need them.”

My eyes stung with frustration.

“I’m not your accessory, Oscar. I’m not just supposed to be there when it’s convenient for you.”

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair.

“That’s not how it is. You’re making this into something it’s not.”

I shook my head, eyes staring out the window.

“Then explain it to me. Explain why it’s always you and your friends. Why it’s always your plans, your world, and I’m just... here. When’s the last time we did something you didn’t drag me into?”

There was a long pause, the only sound the hum of the tires against the road.

Oscar’s jaw clenched, and I could feel the shift in his energy like he was gearing up to defend himself. But nothing came.

Finally, he let out a frustrated sigh.

“You’re being selfish, Y/n. I don’t ask you to come every time. If you didn’t want to, you could just... not come. But you don’t, so don’t act like I’m forcing you to be there.”

My stomach dropped. “Excuse me?”

“I’m serious,” he said, voice tight.

“Why do you care so much? It’s not like they don’t like you.”

“That’s not the point, Oscar!” I practically shouted.

“The point is, you don’t make the same effort for me! You know, the person you’re supposed to care about? I follow you around like some lost puppy. I sit through conversations I don’t even understand, I pretend everything is fine, and every time I try to tell you how I feel, it’s like you don’t hear me. You don’t see me. It’s always about your plans, your life.”

Oscar glanced at me, his grip tightening on the steering wheel, a vein popping in his neck.

“I’m not saying it’s perfect. But it’s not like I’m ignoring you, Y/n.”

“Then why do I feel so damn invisible?” I shot back, my voice trembling now.

“I’m not asking for the world. I’m just asking for a little bit of effort. Just a little bit of balance, maybe, where my life matters too.”

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, his voice dropping with a sigh.

“God, Y/n, it’s not a big deal. I don’t understand why you’re making this such a huge issue.”

“Not a big deal?” I let out a bitter laugh.

“You don’t get it. You never get it.”

Oscar’s frustration boiled over.

“You’re being unreasonable. I can’t change everything just because you’re suddenly upset about it. You're such a drama queen.”

His words stung, but I wasn’t backing down. I was done pretending.

I was done giving in.

“No, you can’t change everything overnight, Oscar. But you can start by acknowledging that I’m not just here for your convenience. I’m not just your plus-one to every single thing. I’m me. And I have my own life, my own friends, and I need you to care about that, too.”

Silence stretched between us, heavy and thick. Oscar’s jaw was clenched, his knuckles white against the wheel.

The air was thick with the weight of our words, of all the things we’d said that hadn’t been said before.

He didn’t respond at first. Just kept his eyes on the road, the car humming beneath us.

And I could feel the tension in the car, the space between us growing wider, like a chasm I wasn’t sure we could cross.

But I wasn’t going to back down.

“I’m not asking for everything, Oscar,” I whispered, almost to myself.

“I’m just asking to not feel like I’m invisible anymore.”

Neither of us spoke for the rest of the drive.

The night felt colder than it had before.

The drive home felt endless.

By the time we pulled up to our apartment building, the weight of everything hung thick in the air between us.

Oscar turned off the engine, his hand moving from the wheel to rest at his side, but he didn’t look at me.

He didn’t say anything.

The silence was louder than the car’s engine had ever been.

I sat there for a moment, my heart racing, my mind buzzing. I had hoped he would say something, anything.

An apology, an explanation. But he didn’t.

He didn’t even seem to want to acknowledge the fight we’d just had, the frustration and hurt I’d tried to lay out for him.

I wasn’t going to let this fester. Not again.

I took a deep breath, unclipping my seatbelt. Oscar still hadn’t moved, still hadn’t looked at me.

I reached for my bag, not even bothering to look his way.

His silence felt like the final nail in the coffin.

“I’m going to my best friend’s,” I said, my voice steady but cold.

Oscar’s gaze flickered toward me briefly, but his lips stayed pressed together, the weight of his pride holding him back from speaking.

I didn’t need to hear him say it; I already knew.

He was too stubborn, too set in his ways to admit he’d messed up.

I didn’t look back.

I grabbed my things and slammed the door behind me, making my way away from him.

It was truly a blessing that my bestie only lived 10 minutes away from us.

So I started walking, not even glancing back as I didn't want to see him anymore.

I didn’t know if I was more angry or heartbroken.

I should have known.

Oscar had always been more about his pride than admitting his wrongs.

He wouldn’t change, not now, not when I needed him to.

When I finally arrived at my best friend’s place, I knocked on the door with urgency.

As soon as she saw me, she opened it wide, pulling me inside without a word.

I collapsed into her arms, my body shaking as the tears I had been holding back for so long finally broke free.

“Hey, hey,” she murmured, her voice full of concern.

“What happened? What’s wrong?”

“I… I don’t even know where to start,” I sobbed, wiping my eyes.

“It’s Oscar. He doesn’t… he doesn’t listen. I’m not important to him, not the way he’s important to me.”

Her expression softened, and she guided me to the couch, sitting beside me.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I began to pour everything out.

“I feel like I’m just... a shadow in his life. I don’t exist in the way he does with his friends. We’re always with his group, and my friends are pushed aside. Every time I try to make plans, he shuts them down. And tonight… tonight, it was the last straw. I tried to tell him, but he just didn’t get it. He didn’t care. He just sat there, not even apologizing or acknowledging how hurt I was. I... I’m so tired of being invisible.”

She listened intently, not interrupting me, just offering a comforting presence as I vented.

When I finally fell silent, she pulled me into a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n,” she whispered.

“You don’t deserve to feel like that. You’re worth so much more than how he’s treating you.”

I closed my eyes, letting myself relax in her arms for a moment.

I wasn’t ready to be okay, but at least here, I didn’t feel alone.

After a long while, she pulled back slightly, her gaze soft but serious.

“You know... everyone has missed you. We’ve all been wondering why you’ve been so distant lately. We haven’t seen you in forever. It’s like you’ve disappeared, and no one knew what to say.”

I sniffled, guilt crashing over me.

“I didn’t mean to shut everyone out. I just… I don’t know. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I’ve been so wrapped up in him. I should’ve been better.”

She shook her head, her expression softening.

“You don’t have to apologize for that. But you do need to come out with us tomorrow. You need to make it up to yourself, too. And to us. We miss you, Y/n. You need to have fun again, and be around people who actually appreciate you for you.”

I wiped my eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

“You’re right. I’ve been so caught up in all of this that I forgot how to just... live. Yeah, I’ll go out tomorrow. I think I need it.”

She smiled warmly.

“Good. It’s time to get back to the things that make you happy. And if Oscar isn’t seeing that right now, then maybe it’s time for you to remind yourself of what really matters.”

I nodded, feeling a weight lifting off my shoulders.

I wasn’t okay yet, but for the first time tonight, I felt like maybe I could be.

I wasn’t alone in this. And tomorrow—tomorrow, I would take a step back into my own world. For me.

As we talked about the plans for tomorrow, I could feel the tension in my chest easing, replaced by a tiny flicker of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, I could start finding my way back to who I was before all of this.

Maybe it was time to stop losing myself.

A few weeks had passed, and I could feel myself slowly beginning to piece my life back together.

It wasn’t easy, but with the help of my best friend and some distance from Oscar, I was starting to remember who I was.

I was going out with my friends again, laughing and enjoying moments I had let slip away.

I even started picking up some old hobbies I had abandoned—reading, painting, and just spending time on myself.

I had a sense of peace that had been missing for a while.

But, despite all that, there was still something—or rather, someone—missing.

Oscar.

He’d tried reaching out to me multiple times, sending texts, calling, but I wasn’t ready to face him, not yet.

I couldn’t just pick up where we left off.

Not without feeling like I was compromising a part of myself again.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was always there, lingering on the edge of my thoughts, no matter how hard I tried to focus on myself.

I tried not to think about him too much.

One afternoon, I was standing in the grocery store, trying to figure out if I was in the mood for pasta or a salad for dinner, when I turned a corner and nearly ran into someone.

“Oof!” I exclaimed, stumbling back a bit.

I looked up, ready to apologize, but then my words caught in my throat.

It was Oscar.

For a moment, neither of us moved. I was frozen, staring at him, and he was doing the same.

He looked… different. Tired, maybe? But still, unmistakably him.

The way his eyes locked onto mine, the way he hesitated for just a second as if he was unsure how to approach me after everything.

It hit me harder than I expected.

“Y/n,” he said quietly, breaking the silence.

“Hey. Uh… wow. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

I forced a smile, though it didn’t reach my eyes.

“Yeah. Small world, huh?”

We both stood there for a beat, unsure of what to say next.

I could feel the tension in the air, thick with the unspoken words between us.

“How… how have you been?” he asked, his voice tentative, like he was testing the waters.

“I’m good,” I said, my tone a little stiff.

“Just been… figuring things out, you know?”

His eyes softened, and he looked like he wanted to say something more, but then I spoke again, cutting him off.

“What about that snowboarding trip? Didn’t you and your friends plan that?” I asked, my voice holding a bit more edge than I meant.

Oscar’s expression faltered, his gaze dropping for a moment.

When he met my eyes again, there was guilt written all over his face.

“I didn’t go,” he said quietly, almost as if it was a confession.

“I felt… I don’t know. I felt guilty. About everything. How I treated you. The way I didn’t listen.”

His words caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to respond.

He hadn’t gone? I hadn’t expected that.

But then again, I couldn’t tell if it was because he truly felt bad or if it was more out of obligation.

I didn’t know if I was ready to hear more.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

“We can’t have this conversation here,” I said, glancing around at the busy store.

I wasn’t ready to talk in front of strangers, especially not with all the emotion bubbling just under the surface.

Oscar nodded, clearly understanding.

“I get it. Um... we could talk at our- I mean my place? If you’re up for it.”

I hesitated. My first instinct was to say no, to walk away and continue living my life without him.

But something about his tone—something about the way he looked at me—made me pause.

“I… I need to think about it first,” I said, my voice softer this time.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

“I understand,” he replied, his voice low.

“Take your time. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

We stood there for a moment, neither of us moving.

It felt like the world had stopped for just a second, and I had to remind myself that we couldn’t go back to the way things were.

But then, with one last look, I turned and walked away, leaving him standing in the middle of the aisle.

When I arrived back at my best friend’s place, I was still in a daze.

I walked into the living room, where she was sitting on the couch, and collapsed next to her.

“Hey, what’s up?” she asked, looking up from her phone.

But as soon as she saw my face, her eyes softened with concern. “Wait. What happened?”

I let out a shaky breath, the weight of the encounter with Oscar finally hitting me.

“I ran into him. In the store. We… we talked.”

She raised an eyebrow, sitting up straighter.

“And? What happened?”

I recounted everything—the awkwardness, his apology, the way he hadn’t gone on the trip, the way he still seemed so... unsure of what to do with me.

I told her how he asked if we could talk later, and how I had told him I needed time to think about it.

When I finished, she sat quietly for a moment, processing.

“So, what do you think? Do you want to talk to him?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“I’m still so confused. Part of me wants to just leave it behind, but another part of me… I don’t know. I think he really does feel bad. He didn’t go on the trip because of me.”

She nodded slowly, considering my words.

“Y/n, you have to do what feels right for you. But, maybe, just hear him out? I know how much he loves you. And if he’s changed, if he’s willing to try, maybe it’s worth it.”

I let her words sit in the air for a moment, and they resonated in ways I hadn’t expected.

She was right. I needed to make the decision for myself—not based on fear, or anger, but on what I truly wanted.

“Okay,” I said, my voice a little steadier now.

“I’ll think about it. I’ll hear him out. But I’m not going back unless I know things are different.”

She smiled, a glint of understanding in her eyes.

“You’re strong, Y/n. Do what’s best for you. You deserve that.”

I nodded, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders.

Tomorrow, I would take that step.

Whatever happened after that, at least I knew I was doing it for me.

And if Oscar was willing to change, then maybe we could find a way forward.

The next day, after spending the night talking with my best friend and sorting through my feelings, I knew what I had to do.

I couldn’t keep avoiding the conversation with Oscar, not if I ever wanted closure—or if there was even a chance at rebuilding what we once had.

It wasn’t going to be easy, and I wasn’t going to go easy on him.

But I owed it to myself to at least hear him out, to see if he was really ready to change, or if he was just another disappointment I’d have to swallow.

I arrived at his place in the late afternoon, my nerves tangled in my stomach like a thousand knots.

I stood in front of his door for a long moment, my hand hovering over the doorbell.

I hadn’t been here in weeks, and it felt strange—like I didn’t belong in this space anymore.

But I pressed the button anyway, and soon enough, I heard the sound of footsteps approaching from the other side.

I stood there for a moment, after he opened the door, taking him in.

His eyes widened in shock, his mouth parting like he couldn’t believe I was actually standing there.

But I wasn’t about to let him off the hook so easily.

“You came,” he said, a mix of surprise and something else—hope, maybe.

But I wasn’t about to let that sway me.

I nodded, stepping inside, and closed the door behind me with a soft click.

We stood in silence for a few seconds, an awkwardness hanging between us, but I wasn’t about to give in to it.

Not tonight.

I folded my arms across my chest, my posture stiff but determined.

“Yeah. I came. But don’t get too comfortable, Oscar. I’m not here to joke around. We need to talk.”

His eyes flickered, but he didn’t interrupt. Good.

He knew I wasn’t messing around. We both made our way to the couch, and when I sat down, he hesitated for just a second before sitting across from me.

The tension was palpable.

I could feel the familiar walls between us, the ones that had started to form before I even realized they were there.

I stared at him, holding his gaze with a quiet intensity.

“So. You’ve had time to think. I hope.”

Oscar shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the weight of the situation.

But that wasn’t my problem anymore.

“Y/n, I... I didn’t know how to start. I’m sorry for what I did. I know I messed up.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Sorry? Is that all you’ve got?”

His eyes widened. “What do you mean? I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I didn’t care about his apology. I needed to know why he acted like he didn’t give a damn about me.

It wasn’t just about what he did—it was about how he never listened, never even saw how I was feeling. And that? That was unforgivable.

“You’re sorry?” I repeated, my voice dripping with disbelief.

“Really? Oscar, you’ve said that so many times, but you never change. Do you know why? Because you think that saying sorry is enough. You think you can just say the words and expect me to forget how you treated me. But it’s not enough. Not anymore. Not after everything.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but I didn’t let him.

“You dragged me to hangouts with your friends, never once asking if I was comfortable. You assumed I was fine when I was literally choking on my discomfort, just sitting there, trying not to be invisible. I tried to make it work, Oscar. I really did. I made the effort to be part of your world, even though it never felt like I belonged there. But when I tried to introduce you to my friends? You dismissed it. Over and over again.”

Oscar’s face softened, and for the first time, I saw the guilt settle in his eyes.

He opened his mouth again, but I cut him off.

“No, listen. You don’t get to just apologize and think that’s it,” I continued, my voice firm, unrelenting.

“I gave up my time for you. I sacrificed things that mattered to me, and you never even bothered to try and meet me halfway. When I tried to tell you how I was feeling, you brushed it off like it didn’t matter. It was never about me, Oscar. It was always about you, and that... that’s what broke me.”

His gaze dropped to the floor, shame painting his features. I could see how much it was hurting him to hear this, but that didn’t matter.

He needed to hear it. He needed to understand exactly how much he’d messed up.

“I want to believe you, Oscar. I really do,” I went on, my voice softer now, but no less strong.

“But you’ve got to do better. I’m not some backup plan that you can string along when it’s convenient for you. I’m not going to be okay with you shutting me out and only letting me into your world when you feel like it. I need to see that you’re willing to change. I need to see that I matter to you.”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and guilt mixing in his expression.

“I do care about you, Y/n. I never meant to make you feel that way. I was just... I was caught up in my own thing, and I didn’t notice how much I was neglecting you. I get it now. I understand. I’m sorry.”

I shook my head, unwilling to let him off the hook that easily.

“Sorry isn’t going to fix everything. You can’t just say ‘I’m sorry’ and think that erases the hurt. You have to show me that you mean it, that you’re actually going to put in the work. And no, I’m not just talking about saying the right things. I want to see it. I want to see actions. I want to see you make my world as important as yours. I want to feel like I matter, too. Like I’m chosen, not just tolerated.”

Oscar looked at me for a long time, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the right words.

I could tell he was genuinely sorry, but he also needed to do a hell of a lot more than apologize.

“I understand,” he said finally, his voice thick with emotion.

“I’ve been selfish. I’ve been an idiot. I’ll do better. I’ll show you. I’ll prove it. I don’t want to lose you, Y/n.”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my emotions.

“You’ve got one chance, Oscar. One. If you really want this, you’re going to have to fight for it. And I’m not going to make it easy for you.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.

“I’ll fight for you. I swear I will. I don’t want to lose what we had.”

I stared at him for another moment, weighing his words. This wasn’t going to be easy.

It wasn’t going to be a quick fix, but something in me—something deep inside—felt a flicker of hope.

“Alright,” I said finally, my voice a little more calm now.

“We’ll try again. But it’s on my terms. You have to show me that you can be the partner I deserve. No more half-assed efforts.”

He nodded quickly, relief flooding his face. “I will. I swear.”

I looked at him, trying to read him.

After everything, after all the hurt, there was a part of me that wanted to believe he’d actually changed.

I wasn’t sure if I was ready to open my heart completely again, but I was willing to give him the chance to prove himself.

“I’m not going to wait around forever, Oscar,” I added, my voice steady.

“If you screw this up again, I’m out. No second chances.”

“I understand,” he said softly.

“And I’ll do everything I can to make sure I don’t mess it up.”

We sat there, in that tense silence, for a few moments.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t even close.

But for the first time in a while, I felt like we had a chance.

Maybe that was enough—for now.

The next few days with Oscar were... different.

I wasn’t expecting everything to change overnight, but I could see that he was genuinely trying.

It wasn’t just about words anymore; he was backing them up with actions..

And little by little, I started to see the man I had fallen for, the one who cared about me as much as I cared about him.

The first time I noticed it was when I came home from work one evening to find the apartment filled with the smell of my favorite dinner.

Oscar was in the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up, humming softly to himself as he cooked.

“You didn’t have to do this,” I said, leaning against the doorframe, watching him with a soft smile.

He turned around with a grin, his face lighting up when he saw me.

“I know, but I wanted to. I’ve been thinking a lot about everything we talked about, and... I want to show you that I can do better. So, I thought I’d start with cooking your favorite meal.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You sure you didn’t burn anything?”

“Not this time,” he said, giving me a teasing wink.

“I’m learning. Slowly.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

It was little things like this, him taking the time to make something for me, that made me realize he wasn’t just doing it to make up for what happened.

He was doing it because he wanted to.

Because he was present.

Another evening, we were sitting on the couch watching a movie, and Oscar—without being asked—grabbed my favorite blanket and draped it over me, making sure I was cozy.

It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it was thoughtful.

It was him, paying attention to what made me feel comfortable and cared for.

And then came the first big test.

Oscar’s friends invited us out for drinks, and usually, it would have been a given.

He would have agreed without even asking me what I wanted to do.

But this time, as he was texting them back, he turned to me, his expression serious.

“Hey love,” he said, his voice soft but sincere.

“My friends are asking if we want to go out tonight, but I wanted to check with you first. Do you have any plans? What do you want to do?”

I blinked, surprised. “Wait, you’re asking me?”

He nodded, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

“Yeah, I want to make sure you’re happy too. So, if you want to do something else tonight, we can. I don’t want to just drag you along with them if you’d rather spend time with me.”

My heart melted. It was such a simple question, but it meant everything. smh the bare minimum.

He was considering me, truly thinking about what I wanted for once.

It was the moment I realized he had changed—he wasn’t just saying the right things anymore; he was actually acting on them.

I smiled, feeling the warmth in my chest spread.

“Well, actually, I’ve been wanting to go to that new café downtown. We could grab a coffee and walk around a bit, if you’re up for it.”

Oscar’s face broke into a grin, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness.

“That sounds perfect. Let’s do it.”

As we got ready to leave, he grabbed my hand, squeezing it gently, as if to remind me that he was here, with me.

I wasn’t just an afterthought anymore; I was chosen. And for the first time in a long time, I felt like we were in this together.

The evening was exactly what I needed—a quiet, peaceful time with Oscar.

No distractions, no pressure. Just us, enjoying each other’s company.

And as we walked hand in hand down the street, I realized that I had never felt more at ease with him.

The old Oscar, the one who would disappear into his world without a second thought, was gone.

And in his place, there was someone who truly cared about us, about building something that could last.

I knew it wasn’t perfect, and there would still be bumps along the way, but as we shared a quiet laugh and a moment of ease, I couldn’t help but believe that we were getting there.

That night, as we walked back home, he pulled me closer, his arm around my waist.

“I’m really glad we did this,” he said quietly, his breath warm against my ear.

“Me too,” I replied, looking up at him with a smile.

“I think this is the start of something really good.”

And for the first time in a long time, I truly believed it.

The end

[amourquinn]

𝐋𝐃𝐑 ; quinn hughes ( drabble ) 𝟏𝟖+

pairing : boyfriend!quinn x fem!reader wc. 622

genre : fluff, smut long distance relationship warnings : phone sex, cuss words

summary : separated by distance, you and quinn share an intimate charged phone call, expressing your longing for each other

「 author’s note 」 this is my first time writing smut im in heat Help

you lay in bed, the soft sheets cool against your heated skin, the glow of your phone screen illuminating your face in the dim light of your bedroom. quinn was propped against his headboard, shirtless, his hair tousled from his restless hands running through it. his eyes were dark, his expression unreadable as he watched you.

“i can’t stop thinking about you,” quinn murmured, his voice rough, thick with something you knew all too well.

you swallowed, shifting against the pillows. “yeah?”

he nodded. “every night. i hate sleeping without you.”

your lips parted, your pulse quickening. “me too, baby.”

quinn exhaled sharply, his gaze dragging over the screen, taking you in. the strap of your satin camisole had slipped off your shoulder, exposing the smooth curve of your collarbone. your hair was a little messy from tossing and turning, your lips slightly swollen from biting them.

“you look so fucking good right now,” he muttered, his voice lower now. “wish i could touch you.”

you let out a soft breath, warmth curling in your stomach. “tell me how you’d touch me.”

quinn’s jaw clenched, his eyes flickering with heat. “you sure, sweetness?”

you nodded, fingers grazing your stomach, teasing yourself with the anticipation of what was to come. “yeah.”

quinn let out a slow exhale. “i’d start by kissing you, real slow,” he murmured. “dragging my lips down your neck, sucking just enough to make you whimper for me.”

you swallowed hard, your thighs pressing together. “you know i would.”

he smirked, his voice dropping lower. “then i’d take my time undressing you. i’d lay you down and run my hands all over that pretty body of yours, make you shiver.”

a soft whimper escaped your lips, and quinn groaned in response.

“are you touching yourself, baby?” he asked, his voice thick.

you bit your lip, letting your fingers dip beneath the covers. “mhm.”

quinn let out a low, needy sound. “fuck. let me see you.”

you hesitated for half a second before tilting the phone slightly, just enough for him to see the way your fingers traced slow, teasing patterns over your skin. quinn’s breath hitched, his grip on the phone tightening.

“y/n…” his voice was strained.

“show me, too,” you whispered.

quinn adjusted his phone just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the way his hand moved over his stomach, lower, his muscles tensing beneath his touch.

the tension crackled between you, your breaths coming heavier, softer moans spilling into the quiet night as you guided each other through the distance. quinn’s voice was raw, rough, laced with need as he whispered exactly what he would be doing if he were there, how good he’d make you feel.

your pleasure built with every word, every sound he made, until the heat inside you became unbearable. “quinn,” you whimpered, teetering on the edge.

“let go, sweetness,” he murmured. “come for me.”

your body arched, waves of pleasure crashing over you, and you barely registered quinn groaning your name as he followed right after.

the only sound left between you was your uneven breathing.

after a moment, quinn chuckled, running a hand through his damp curls. “i think i need a flight first thing in the morning.”

you let out a breathless laugh. “you say that every time.”

“yeah, well,” he smirked, “one of these times, i’m not gonna be joking.”

you smiled, eyes heavy with exhaustion but heart full. “i hope not.”

quinn’s expression softened, his voice turning gentle. “go to sleep, baby. i’ll stay on the phone.”

“promise?” you murmured, already drifting.

“always, sweetness.”

and with that, you fell asleep to the sound of quinn’s breathing, feeling closer to him than ever.

© amourquinn

[greengoblinswifey]

The Deal

pairing— nerd!luigi x popular!bitchy!reader

summary— Luigi was the nerd who always had his eyes on you, the popular girl who was way out of his league. You made a habit of teasing him for it and he never knew he could have a chance with him until you made a deal. If he got you an A on your assignment, you'd let him take you on a date. Based on this request.

warnings— praise kink, oral(m,f), fingering, praise kink, slight sub!luigi, hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare, fluff.

a/n— Luigi’s website for updates!

Luigi had always stared, it was impossible not to notice those piercing eyes lingering on you in lectures, even in the library. He was subtle about it, but you knew. He wasn’t like the frat guys or the football players you used to date, and he knew that too. No matter how deep his crush ran, he never thought he’d stand a chance.

So, you gave him one, for fun. It started small, teasing him whenever you caught him looking. A slow smirk, a roll of your eyes. Then it escalated, leaning in close just to watch him stammer, calling on him just to hear him scramble for an answer. Your little entourage found it hilarious. But the best part? Making him do your assignments.

“I could help you study instead,” he had suggested once, trying so hard to sound confident.

“Why the fuck would I study when I have you?”

And like everyone else in this school, he fell to his knees for you. No questions asked.

The last assignment had been brutal, and you’d made him an offer just to amuse yourself. “If I get above a 90, I’ll let you take me on a date,” you had smirked, watching his face light up like you’d just handed him the moon. Cute.

And, well, he was. Not just in the typical nerdy way, but genuinely. Dark curls, sharp jaw, broad shoulders that you knew hid something impressive under those hoodies.

All week, you kept up the act, teasing him relentlessly. Your friends joined in, laughing, asking if he really thought he stood a chance. He never had an answer. Maybe he didn’t believe it himself.

Then the grade came back. 98%.

You were shocked—actually shocked. You turned to him, eyes wide, before practically throwing yourself into his lap, squealing. “Oh my God, Lulu! You’re a genius!” Your lips pressed to his cheek in an impulsive kiss, even using the nickname you had given him and when you pulled back, his face was bright red, completely frozen.

You got up, laughing in his face.

“S-so, does this mean I get to take you on that date?” he stuttered.

You paused, tilting your head, really looking at him. You’d been so busy playing with him that you hadn’t noticed just how attractive he really was.

“Yeah,” you said, surprising yourself. “You can.”

And the way his breath hitched? Worth every second.

A couple days later, he was at your door to pick you up, but honestly? He still couldn’t believe this was happening.

You, the popular girl everyone wanted , the one who always had something snarky to say—had actually agreed to go out with him. And now, you stood in front of him, looking so effortlessly gorgeous that it made his chest feel tight.

“Still staring, Lulu?” you teased, stepping outside, the smirk on your lips and the way the nickname rolled off your tongue making his head spin.

He exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he opened the car door for you. “Guess I can’t help myself.”

You slid in, watching him as he walked around to the driver’s side. Even when you weren’t messing with him, there was something about you that made him feel unsteady in a way he liked more than he wanted to admit.

“Didn’t think you’d actually come,” you joked.

He shot you a glance, shifting into drive. “What, you thought I’d back out?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time a guy chickened out around me,” you shrugged.

“Yeah, well. I’m not like them,” he scoffed.

You grinned. “No, you’re not.”

And for the first time all night, you were the one staring.

Luigi was a proper gentleman all night. From the moment he picked you up, he was attentive, opening doors, pulling out your chair, complimenting you like you were the most breathtaking thing he'd ever seen. “You look beautiful,” he said softly, as his gaze lingered on you from across the table.

And for the first time, you actually talked. Really talked. It took effort on his part, his usual nervousness was there, but he pushed through, and you realized just how intelligent he was. Thoughtful, passionate, with so much more to offer than just the schoolwork you made him do.

Meanwhile, the wine had left a pleasant buzz in your veins, making everything a little hazier, a little bolder. And Luigi, he looked good, really good. That sharp jaw, the way his tie hung slightly loose now, how his dark curls made him so much more attractive, when he leaned forward, elbows on the table, talking about something that made his eyes light up.

By the time he drove you home, you could feel the buzz of the alcohol mixing with something else entirely. He had given you his jacket, paid the bill without hesitation, and now, on the drive back, he was rambling.

“I had such a great time tonight,” he said, gripping the wheel a little too tightly. “Thank you f-for actually going out with me. I mean, I know you could’ve bailed, and I wouldn’t have blamed you, but you didn’t, and—God, you are just—stunning. Like, I still can’t believe—”

You cut him off mid sentence, leaning over and pressing your lips to his. He gasped into it, shocked, but you could feel how quickly he melted, his hands twitching as if he didn’t know what to do with them.

By the time you pulled back, he was breathless.

“Are you d-drunk?” he stammered, eyes darting across your face.

“Why? Was that a sloppy, drunk kiss?” you smirked.

“No—God, no, it was amazing, but—” His face was burning. “Why would you ever kiss me?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing his tie and tugging him toward the door. “Because I want you.”

You barely heard his shaky inhale before you pulled him inside, locking the door behind you.

Then, his lips were on yours again, this time, with more desperation, more hunger. His hands hovered, uncertain, but you could feel the way he shivered when you tangled your fingers in his curls.

And when he let out the softest, most helpless whimper? It made your pussy clench around nothing.

Luigi’s breath hitched as he took in the sight of you, shedding your dress only leaving you in lingerie, his wide eyes raking over your figure. He had always thought you were stunning, but this left him speechless.

“You— you’re gorgeous,” he murmured, almost in awe, his hands hesitating before resting on your waist.

You smirked, amused by his reaction. “Cat got your tongue, handsome?”

He swallowed hard, shaking his head. “No, I just, I never thought I’d ever—” He cut himself off, choosing instead to trail his fingers over your skin.

His admiration sent a rush straight to your pussy and when he finally gathered himself enough to kneel, shift your underwear, kiss your clit and murmur soft praises against you, you felt something shift. It wasn’t just the usual teasing, the push and pull you were so used to, it was something more.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered as he ravished your pussy. “So beautiful, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

Your fingers tangled in his dark curls, pulling him into your pussy, his nose nudging your pelvis.

“Is this okay?” he asked breathless, fingers circling your leaking hole.

You nodded frantically, bucking your hips, needing more.

His tongue lapped at your juices and he slipped a finger inside you, curling, like he was trying to memorize your walls. No one had ever been so focused on your pleasure.

“Fuck, Lu, you’re so good at this,” you moaned, hands gripping his hair.

Your praises willed him on and he hooked a hand under you, tilting your body upwards as his lips engulfed your clit and his finger thrusted inside you.

“Just like that, I’m about to—” Your words were cut off by your own scream and an intense orgasm washing over you. Luigi carried you through it, slurping up your juices as your entire body convulsed.

“You taste better than anything I’ve ever had in my mouth,” he panted, finally sitting up, lips glistening.

You smirked, pulling him into a sloppy kiss. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him on top of you. His cock was practically bulging out of his pants and you flipped him over, undoing his belt and pulling down his bottoms.

As his cock sprang free, you couldn’t help the audible gasp that left your lips. Luigi was huge.

Now, it was your time to stutter. “Y-you’re so big.”

He was thick, long, veiny and hard. It almost looked painful. Hesitantly, you took ahold of him, your hand barely able to go around it.

“Really?” he asked, shooting you a curious glance. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“That’s the least of my worries. Fuck, I want it to hurt,” you said, practically drooling as you stared down at his cock.

His breathing grew heavier, body practically shaking as you held his cock in your hand. But then, you let go of him, a smirk playing on your lips as you trailed your fingers down his chest after you ripped his shirt off, the buttons flying everywhere, feeling the way his muscles tensed under your touch. He was already breathless, watching you with wide, eager eyes, his hands gripping the sheets like he was bracing himself.

“You’re so easy to tease,” you murmured, tilting your head as you let your fingers ghost over his abs. He was built like a Greek God. “So worked up already, huh?”

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You, you’re just—” He cut himself off with a sharp inhale when you licked his shaft, the warmth of your breath making him shiver.

His reaction only made you want to push him further. You placed a lingering kiss to his tip, feeling the way his cock twitched beneath you. “I haven’t even started, and you’re already falling apart,” you teased.

A whimper slipped past his lips, and he squeezed his eyes shut, his hands fisting the sheets even tighter as your lips wrapped around his tip. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

That sent a thrill through you. The way he was unraveling so easily, the way his breath hitched with every tiny movement, it boosted your ego.

When you finally took him down your throat, all the tension built up in him melted into a broken moan. His fingers trembled as they reached for you, barely managing to grip your shoulder as if he needed to ground himself.

“Feels so good,” he breathed, his voice laced with disbelief, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “You’re—God, you’re amazing.”

His praise came in soft, desperate gasps, each one more raw than the last, and it only spurred you on. Every shaky breath, every whispered compliment, every helpless sound he made, it was enough to keep you bobbing your head steadily.

The way your tongue swirled as you took him into your throat, the way his pre cum and your salvia dripped down your chin, the way your eyes watered and the way your mouth stretched wide to accommodate his size had him whimpering so loudly.

“F-fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m gonna last,” he managed to croak out, cock throbbing in your mouth.

You hummed around his cock, bobbing your head and massaging his balls as he bucked his hips, his entire body trembling. Your lips wrapped around the tip, suckling as you stroked his shaft and his hot load shot down your throat.

“Fuck. Thank you, thank you so much,” he moaned, toes curling as ropes of his cum coated your tongue.

You seductively shed yourself of your lingerie, your body bare as you climbed on top of him. He stared at you like you were a masterpiece, breathing heavy and his cock still hard. You took ahold of him, dragging the tip along your folds.

“You’re always such a tease,” he whined.

A primal sound left his lips as you sank down onto his cock, your nails digging into his chest. The air was knocked out of your lungs as took every inch.

“You feel so good. Oh my God,” he whimpered, hands resting on your hips.

After you finally adjusted to his size though it still felt like you were being ripped apart, you lifted yourself up and began bouncing on his cock. Your hands were flat on his pecs, your ass slamming down on him as you rode him like your life depended on it.

His whimpers went straight to your pussy, the sound like music to your ears as you circled your hips and moved back and forth. Every movement felt like he was brushing against your cervix.

His eyes averted between your tits and your wet pussy gripping his cock. “You look so beautiful riding me like that.”

A smirk was on your lips and you lifted yourself even higher, slamming yourself back down and making the entire bed shake as you bounced.

“Rub my clit,” you cried out, feeling your orgasm approach.

Without missing a beat, he began rubbing your clit in harsh circles as you moved back and forth. He felt like he would black out, the sheer pleasure and how good you felt almost too much. You wrapped your hand around his throat, the action making his cock twitch and you knew he was close.

“Cum with me Lu. Cum inside me, you deserve it,” you panted, bouncing wildly.

He wrapped his arms around you and you fell on top of him, your entire body shaking, your pussy clamping tightly around him as you squirted on his raw cock. The rush of liquid sent him over the edge and as you came, you felt him cum deep inside you, his warm, sticky load filling you up.

You lay on top of him, still catching your breath. Luigi was staring at the ceiling, chest rising and falling as he tried to gather himself. Then, he looked at you as you looked up, eyes soft, admiration written all over his face.

“You’re absolutely breathtaking,” he murmured.

You smirked, but there was something tender behind it. “Yeah? You weren’t so bad yourself.”

His face flushed, and he looked away for a second, running a hand through his curls. “Seriously, that was amazing. I don’t even know what to say.”

You rolled onto your side, propping yourself up on one elbow as you traced your finger on his arm. “You don’t have to say anything.” Then, quieter, “Just hold me.”

Luigi blinked, like he wasn’t expecting that. He’d seen you confident, untouchable—but never like this.

Without a word, he pulled you against his chest, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You exhaled, melting into him, letting yourself get lost in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

For the rest of the weekend, he took you out on more dates—dinners, late night drives and movies. And each night ended the same way, his cock inside you, bodies and hearts growing more in sync.

But eventually, the weekend came to an end, and it was time to go back to school.

As you and Luigi walked through campus, hand in hand, the stares were unavoidable. People whispered, eyes wide with shock, questioning how he managed to end up with you. But Luigi didn’t care. Not when he had you beside him.

And you didn’t care either.

He was yours. And everyone else would just have to fall in line. You were the it couple now.

[red5tars]

all that remains, pt.1

ghost x reader; past ghoap.

cw: major character death, alcohol + drinking, simon is grieving and he is NOT happy

it was no surprise johnny would be forced into an early retirement. simon planned to follow him, hell, he would follow him to ends of the earth if johnny so much as hinted at it. but that wasn't the case, not this time.

or after going no contact for nearly two decades, simon riley gets the closure he's always needed with his sergeant. or rather, an extension of him.

he can hardly remember what happened.

(-security had to escort simon out of the hospital. yank him away from johnny as he yelled, cursed, told his mother that she could go fuck herself up the ass with the cross she carries in her bag-)

-the past a blur, smudged by time.

still, betrayal sticks to the back of his tongue like a bitter aftertaste. the feeling apart of him forever.

the day that johnny got shot, two matching holes were made: one ingrained into soap's head, the other in ghost's heart. time healed one while growing the other, the correlation negative. never crossing.

until now.

he reads the article over and over again, eyes darting all over the page.

local veteran. wife. daughter. car crash. multiple injuries. dead.

dead.

dead.

dead-

simon chucks his phone across the room, device shattering upon impact.

he shouldn't have asked price for more details, knowing his captain would never have spared him. then again, the last time simon talked with price was nearly a month ago, both men preferring to talk in person. unfortunately, this message couldn't wait.

according to elisabeth kübler-ross, simon should be in denial. shaking his head frantically, muttering 'no no no no no', tugging his hair and screaming till his lungs give out. yet, the first emotion that his apathetic brain can register is regret-

-days spent quietly in the woods, vows and toasts, an honest conversation, all lost when the text he's gone appeared on his screen only thirty minutes prior.

memories never created bounce around in his head, plaguing him. a ghost being haunted, how hilarious.

even when johnny was cut out from simon'a life, at the very least he knew he was still there. living and breathing, enjoying life with someone who wasn't him.

wasn't simon.

before he can spiral even further, his phone buzzes. a miracle, considering how hard he threw it. a part of him wants to break his phone, unable to cement this new reality (denial, maybe miss ross knew a thing or two).

but he's already walking, bending down to pick up the small device. his thumb hits the answer button before he can throw it again.

"i should've called first," price says, voice filled with sympathy, shielding his own grief. even decades later, his captain continues to put on a strong front. typical, but not unwelcomed.

a million responses run through simon's head; "yes, you should've", "it wouldn't have made a difference".

“you never should’ve told me. should’ve let me die an ignorance.”

"..'s fine," simon mumbles, eyes drifting down to the floor.

there's an uncomfortable silence that comes from the other end of the line. for a man who can figure out when the enemy is about to take their next breath, he's shit when it comes to comfort.

price sighs, "'s not, but not much we can do 'bout it now, huh?" he tacks on a humorless laugh at the end, which could be mistaken for another exasperated sigh.

he's right. there isn't much they can do about now. simon doesnt't even want to do anything. if he had to do something, gun to his head, he'd just pull the trigger himself and hope johnny is wherever he ends up (a low probability really. johnny believed in god and the only man simon worshipped was him).

"listen, simon," price's voice pulls him out of his thoughts, forcing him back to the present. the one where johnny is dead, "i didn't just call to talk about… him.

"they're gonna be 'osting a funeral, 'bout a week from now," he continues, simon taking every detail with a gram of salt, "gonna be in his hometown. i've been in contact with his mum considerin' the lad," (a weird word to describe him, but it makes sense. john has always been like a father figure to them all, offering guidance even outside of the trenches), "won't have a regular funeral."

a neatly folded flag, gunshots that echo of missions from years ago, and the husk of the strongest man he knows.

well, knew.

"figures," simon replies, despondent. it seems price catches on, another breath leaving him heavily, "look, i know you two weren't on the best of terms after the.. incident, but i do know that if he wanted anyone to see him off. it would be you," there's a slight rustle on price's end, a barely audible john..? reaching simon's end. price huffs, but it's filled with warmth, "woke up the missus.. listen, i'll talk to you again when everything is finalized just.. don't do anything you'd regret, simon."

it takes simon three minutes to respond, not realizing what john said wasn't a suggestion but rather an order (some things don't change, huh?).

"..yes, sir," and simon can hear the smile in his tone when john tells him 'good night'.

he didn't realize it till price left him in the static silence of his home flat, but simon didn't move a single inch during the entirety of the call. a strange superstition he had when he was younger, that if he didn't move, nothing would change. it didn't work of course. staying huddled in a corner didn't stop his father from seeking him out and beating him and his mother.

staying buried in the trenches didn't stop the enemy from firing at him.

and staying rooted in this one spot didn't change the fact that johnny mactavish was a dead man.

so much for some things not changing…

he thinks of what to do next. price ordered him to not do something he would regret, his to-do list quickly dwindling down to two options:

a) go to the funeral.

b) or don't.

to others it's an easy choice, but to simon? this would be facing the truth head first. face first.

johnny, expression contorted into something peaceful, telling a silent story of a man who lived a long fruitful life.

still, no amount of blush could hide the fact it's a corpse he'll be reuniting with.

it could do him more good than harm but what if it doesn't? what if it's then he truly snaps, impales himself on one of the many flower stands he knows will be there, removing himself only to drag his bleeding body towards his one true love.

splayed out like romeo over juliet except this isn't some shakespearean tale, star-crossed lovers and theatrical english. no, this is his reality, his purgatory made into actuality.

all that's left is to make a decision. stay or go? face the truth or don't?

it circles his head like an ugly carousel with a discordant tune, that is till his eyes land on a an unopened bottle of whiskey he got from america.

johnny had insisted on buying it when they were in the states for a mission. "we'll share it whin we git back to th' stead, lt. treat fur a jab weel done."

(they never opened it, that operation being dubbed 'the incident', followed by silence from both ends)

better late then never, simon thinks, skulking towards the bottle. the cap comes off with ease, simon swiping some dust around the spout. there's glasses somewhere in his shitty flat, a set that's engraved with their initials.

he settles on drinking straight from the source.

[chrissssssmut]

Could you write a han sohee x male reader story that’s slice of life/realistic? Thank you!

Almost, Always.

Han So-hee x Male Reader

AN: Felt really sad today so i decided to make this request. I actually finished 3 stories but will upload if i feel like it hehe. ♥️

Seoul in winter always felt like a memory—soft, fleeting, and cold in a way that seeped into your bones if you let it. The city pulsed with neon signs and the chatter of people slipping into warm cafés, the scent of roasted chestnuts lingering in the air.

You weren’t sure why you agreed to meet her.

Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was nostalgia. Or maybe, deep down, you always knew you’d say yes.

Han So-hee.

She was waiting by the café window when you arrived, a wool coat draped over her shoulders, her hair tucked neatly behind one ear. You used to tease her about that, how she always had to make sure at least one side of her face was showing. She once told you it was a habit from childhood, something about being called "too pretty to hide." You remember laughing, telling her she was ridiculous, and she had smiled—that rare, unguarded smile that made you forget how to breathe.

That was years ago.

Now, she looked up, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. There was a flicker of something—recognition, hesitation, maybe even relief. But it was gone before you could name it.

"You're late," she murmured as you slid into the seat across from her.

"You asked me to come last minute," you countered, shaking the cold from your jacket.

A ghost of a smile. "Still bad at taking responsibility, I see."

You wanted to say, And you still love pushing my buttons. But instead, you exhaled a quiet laugh, the warmth of the café barely reaching the spaces in you that still ached.

The conversation started carefully, like tiptoeing across a frozen lake. She asked about your work. You asked about hers. She told you about Paris—how she got lost in Montmartre, how she missed Korean food so much she cried over an overpriced bowl of instant ramen. You told her about your new apartment, how it didn’t feel like home yet.

There were moments when it almost felt normal, like no time had passed at all. But the silences stretched longer between words, settling between you like the weight of everything unspoken.

"So why did you ask me to meet you?" you finally asked.

She hesitated, fingers tracing the rim of her cup. Then, softly—"I just wanted to see if it still hurt."

Your breath caught.

You swallowed hard. "Does it?"

She looked up then, and you wished she hadn’t. Because her eyes held everything—the quiet ache, the regret, the love that never fully left.

"A little," she admitted. "But not in the way I thought it would."

"How did you think it would?"

She exhaled, her breath fogging the window beside her. "I thought it would feel like reopening a wound. But it's not like that. It’s more like…" She searched for the words. "More like pressing on an old bruise, just to see if it’s still there."

Your fingers curled around your cup. Yeah. You knew exactly what she meant.

Outside, the first snowfall of the season had begun, tiny white specks drifting down under the glow of streetlights. People walked by, some alone, some huddled together, their laughter muffled by the glass.

"I loved you," she said suddenly.

Your heart clenched. "I know."

"And you loved me."

You nodded, because there was no point in denying it. "Yeah."

She smiled, but it was a sad kind of smile, the kind you give when you've already made peace with something. "We were good once, weren’t we?"

You felt your throat tighten. We were everything. But instead, you just whispered, "Yeah."

She reached across the table then, hesitating for only a second before her fingers brushed against yours. Her touch was warm. Familiar. It sent a thousand memories rushing back—lazy Sunday mornings, the way she’d laugh when you kissed the tip of her nose, the quiet comfort of just existing together.

And then, just as quickly, she pulled away.

"I should go," she said, reaching for her coat.

You nodded, though every part of you wanted to say, Stay. Just a little longer.

She stood, wrapping the scarf around her neck. For a moment, she just looked at you, like she was memorizing the moment, the version of you that existed here, now.

"Take care," she murmured.

And then she was gone, disappearing into the city, her footsteps swallowed by the snow.

You sat there for a while, staring at the empty chair across from you, the warmth of her lingering in the space between your fingers.

Outside, the snow kept falling.

Some things melted away.

Some things stayed.

BRO THIS SHIT MADE ME SAD NGL T_T

[burningembers91]

Dinner for Two - Ryu Su-Yeol/K x Fem!Reader

tagging: @sky-forts-and-burning-citadels Follow up piece to:

Chalk and Cheese I'll Bring You Flowers

Synopsis: Forced to attend the date that K arranged with you, Su-Yeol is determined to break things off for good. But the more time he spends with you, the more he realises why K likes you so much.

A/N: The ending of this fic is based on this ask

Ryu Su-Yeol had resigned himself to a life with K long ago. He was mostly used to his antics by now; he could handle the childish arguments, could deal with his alter ego’s insatiable and sometimes insane lust for justice, but this time he had gone too far. He hadn’t found out about the date until it was too late, K making sure to leave a sticky note somewhere Su-Yeol wouldn’t notice until he returned from work. It was hidden under one of his dumbbells, scrawled in K’s handwriting: We’ve got dinner plans tonight with the beautiful girl next door at 8pm. Don’t be a dick!

If Su-Yeol could have punched K, he would have. He knew he’d fronted last night, had begged him to explain everything that had gone on, but K was being tight lipped, and now he knew why. “We cannot go for dinner with her,” Su-Yeol sighd, “I’m going to cancel.” “You can’t cancel!” K cried, “She’ll be devastated. We really hit it off last night; I think it might be love.”

Su-Yeol could feel the migraine starting to form, the dull, throbbing pulse right in the centre of his forehead. “It’s not love,” Su-Yeol sighed, “It’s… pointless. I’ll just go over and break the news to her gently. I’m sure she’ll understand.” He could feel K trying to front, could feel his other personality sinking his fingers into the very core of their shared brain, desperate to take over. But Su-Yeol wasn’t having it; K had gone too far this time, and someone needed to maintain order. Yes, cancelling a date 30 minutes before it was due to start would make him look like a bit of a prick, but he’d never had a problem being the bad guy before. If things got bad, he could always move. It wouldn’t be the first time Su-Yeol had had to relocate after pissing off a woman.

He knocked on your door, piecing together some bullshit excuse about why he couldn’t attend. His body tensed, automatically anticipating the slap he was sure to receive, but then you opened the door and Su-Yeol forgot how to speak.

You were a vision in a burgundy off the shoulder dress, your makeup soft and glowing. Your perfume smelled like orange blossom and honeysuckle, and for a split-second Su-Yeol understood completely why K was so head over heels for you. “K! You’re early,” you smiled, “come in!” K? Why the hell were you calling him K? Su-Yeol made a mental note to have a serious word with his troublesome friend. “It’s uh… It’s Su-Yeol,” he corrected you, laughing awkwardly as he looked around your place. It was nice, the space enveloping him in a warm, cozy hug. Your apartment felt like home, unlike his place which was devoid of anything other than basic furniture and eye-wateringly expensive art.  

“Really?” you looked at him confused. “Yesterday you told me to call you K.” “Right!” Su-Yeol laughed again; why the hell couldn’t he stop laughing? “It’s just… I prefer Su-Yeol.” You looked at him like he was crazy, your brows furrowed as you took him in. He was dressed in muted colours today, his beige two-piece suit and cream turtleneck so far removed from the crazy leopard print number he had on the night before. “If I didn’t know better,” you smiled, popping the cork on a bottle of wine. “I’d say you were two different people.”

Su-Yeol laughed again, loud and brash as he figured out how to respond. He had two options; make himself look crazy or make himself look like an asshole. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he snorted, “no one can be two people.” You handed him a glass of wine, your eyes scanning his chiselled features. This man was such an enigma; no matter how hard you tried you just couldn’t figure him out. There was no way the man standing in front of you now was the same man who fixed your boiler last night. Everything about him was different, from the way he dressed, to the way he carried himself. “If you insist,” you winked. “Make yourself at home. I need to finish getting ready.”

As you headed into your bedroom to finish up, Su-Yeol took a seat on your sofa. It was a plush, cream number, the cushions caressing his body as he sank down into the soft material. Your living room smelled like lavender, the soft glow of your table lamp instantly relaxing him. There were photos of you and your friends dotted around the space, and Su-Yeol was finding it hard to ignore how gorgeous you were. He felt instantly at ease in your home, a far cry from how he felt in his own apartment. He could definitely see why K was so drawn to you, but Su-Yeol simply couldn’t allow this to continue. He was too fucked up for someone as good as you. He let his head fall back into the soft cushions, taking a sip of wine as he examined the titles on your bookshelf. You had good taste, and that only served to annoy him more. From everything he’d seen so far, you were his dream girl.

“Ready,” you smiled, coming back into the living room. Su-Yeol could only stare, once again completely dumbfounded by you. He’d always known you were pretty, but tonight you’d taken his breath and words away. It was going to be harder to end things than he originally thought. He’d treat you to a nice dinner, and then he’d cut you loose.

K had done the honours of booking a shockingly expensive restaurant, much to Su-Yeol’s pain. Your table was right by the window, on the top floor, with the most stunning views of the Seoul skyline. Even he had to admit, it was incredibly romantic. It was just too bad it wasn’t going to last. After placing your order, you sat back and chatted, and Su-Yeol tried to so hard to find a fault with you, one tiny downside to your perfection that he could use as an excuse to run away. But there was nothing. You were intelligent, witty, hilariously funny and as beautiful inside as you were outside. Time seemed to stand still, and you barely noticed the other diners leaving, didn’t realise the waiters were all patiently waiting for you to pay your bill and leave so they could close for the night.

As Su-Yeol reluctantly walked you home, he was forced to admit that K had got it right. You were simply perfect in every way. He wanted to invite you in, to peel that burgundy dress from your body and fuck you until you screamed his name. But he couldn’t do that to K. His alter ego may have been an extension of himself, but K was still like a brother to him. If K didn’t love you, it would have been fine; but Su-Yeol knew how much he cared for you and he didn’t want to hurt him by taking advantage of you. He also knew that K was desperate for him to care about you too. But there was too much baggage on Su-Yeol’s side, too much anger and hurt, too much bitterness in his heart.

“I had a lovely time tonight,” you said, arriving back at your door. You stood on your tiptoes, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight… K and Su-Yeol.” You left him standing there dumbstruck long after you’d closed the door. For the first time in his life, both of his personalities had been recognised. He wasn’t sure how you knew, but you did.

Su-Yeol lay in bed that night, bickering back and forth with K as he usually did. “She knows about us both!” K cried, “this is incredible! She’s incredible!” Su-Yeol rolled over, pulling his pillow over his ears to block out his overly enthusiastic other-half. “She is,” he agreed, “but we can’t be with her.” “Why?” He could feel K’s disappointment, could feel the ache in their shared heart. “She makes us happy. She makes you happy, and nothing does that.” “You know why,” Su-Yeol snapped. “I can’t be with anyone… Me and people, we don’t mix.”

Su-Yeol could feel the hurt and anger welling inside of him, could feel K’s frustration mixing with his own pain. “You could be with her,” K whispered sadly. “We both could.” Su-Yeol admired K’s positivity, but yet again he was forced to be the pragmatic one. How would you cope, being in a relationship with a person who had split personalities? What would your friends and family think? People would make fun of you, would call you crazy and Su-Yeol didn’t want that. It was hard enough that people thought he was insane; he didn’t want you tainted with the same brush.

And yet, he found himself picturing life with you and K, the three of you in your cozy, lavender-scented apartment. In an ideal world, the three of you would be happy.

In an ideal world, Su-Yeol and K would love you, together. But would you love both of them?

[starset21]

Miss Possessive

Did I just write a Lando fic? Yes, yes I did. Based slightly of Tate McRae's song Miss Possessive.

Standard disclaimer: I do not consent to the posting, translating, or publishing of my work to any 3rd party site, the only place it may currently be found is on tumblr.

She watched as Lando leaned casually against the bar, his laugh ringing out over the crowd. It was one of those nights where everything seemed perfect—the city lights casting a warm glow, the music pulsing through the air, and Lando, always the center of attention, smiling like he had no care in the world. They’d been friends for months, the kind of friendship where you know each other’s quirks, jokes, and dreams, but somewhere along the way, something shifted. Maybe it was the way he looked at her when they joked around or the soft touches when he’d reassure her after a bad day. She wasn’t sure when, but she knew she fell for him. Hard. And watching him now, her heart squeezed a little tighter.

A model—tall, gorgeous, and all curves—was eyeing him from across the room, the corners of her red lips curling into an inviting smile. She tossed her hair back, making sure her gaze lingered a little too long on him. She could feel her stomach tighten as she approached him, her steps slow and calculated. “Lando,” she purred, her voice smooth like velvet. “It’s so nice to see you out tonight.” She made note of the way Lando smiled at her—polite, distant, but still… he didn’t push her away. He was too polite, too kind to be rude. Her fingers tightened around her glass, and she felt a cold surge of jealousy wash over her. She had never realized how possessive she could feel. The model leaned closer, laughing at something he said, her fingers brushing his arm lightly. She bit her lip, trying to hold back the wave of frustration.

What was she supposed to do with this feeling? She’d always been the quiet one, the one who didn’t make scenes. But tonight, she couldn’t stop it. She couldn’t let her think she had any chance. Without even realizing it, she stood up, walking over to them. She could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears. “Hey, Lando,” she said, her voice a little sharper than usual. His head snapped toward her, a flash of relief crossing his face when he saw her. “Can I steal you away from the her for a moment,” she asked. Lando’s smile softened, and he excused himself from the model, his eyes flickering to her with curiosity.

The model, clearly irritated, gave him a final glance before turning away, leaving them standing there. “I thought you were going to let me have a little fun tonight,” Lando teased as she grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the crowd. “She was undressing you with her eyes. And I don’t share,” she replied boldly but quietly, not looking him in the eye, the possessiveness bubbling up inside was unmistakable. She could feel the heat of the crowded bar pressing in on her, the chatter around them growing louder as people danced and laughed. But all she could focus on was Lando—his tousled hair, the glint of mischief in his eyes, and the lingering warmth of his hand as she held onto it a little too tightly.

As we moved away, the crowd seemed to part, and she couldn’t help but notice how many eyes followed him. He had this effortless charm, the kind of charisma that made people flock to him without even trying. She hated that, but she also loved it, too. For a moment, Lando didn’t say anything. He just followed her until he deemed the area of the club good enough and stopped, forcing her to look at him. His hand came up and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “I never thought you’d be the jealous type,” Lando chuckled, stepping closer to her. “Maybe I’m not,” she muttered, glancing up at him. “But I think I am when it comes to you.” His expression softened, and there was something in his eyes—a tenderness, an understanding. “Well, lucky for you,” he said with a smirk, “I don’t plan on sharing either.” 

She felt the words settle between them, the vulnerability in both of them suddenly palpable. She took in a shaky breath, unsure of how to respond, but in that moment, everything felt clearer. Lando smiled, a gentle, reassuring grin, and it made her heart flutter, as if the world had shifted to just the two of them. "You're mine, didn’t you know?" he said with a teasing smirk, but his eyes were softer, his tone different—more serious than it had ever been before. She blinked, her breath catching in her throat. “I think I’m okay with that,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando leaned in, his face inches from hers, and for a split second, everything around them seemed to fade. The music, the crowd, even the tension—it all vanished. He leaned in just enough to brush his lips against hers, a quick kiss, the simple gesture sending a wave of warmth through her chest. "You don't have to fight for me, you know," he murmured, his lips brushing her forehead next as he pulled back just slightly to meet her gaze. "I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” 

[alittlegiraffe]

Could you write where reader gets jealous over Em and a former female artist getting a bit close while recording a music video, or like in the studio and bonding (whichever you prefer) and he tries to reassure reader that nothing is going on between him and the girl, but reader is pretty sure she likes him, tysm 💗💗💗

Title: Insecure

A/N: I feel like this is terrible, but it's what I could come up with...

You had always known what you signed up for when you married Marshall. The fame, the long nights at the studio, and the constant stream of women in the industry who admired him—some a little too much. You trusted him, but sometimes, you couldn't help but feel like you weren’t enough.

Which was exactly why you were currently sitting in the corner of the studio, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest as Marshall and a former artist he used to work with, a singer named Vanessa, laughed together. She was beautiful, confident, and effortlessly charming—everything you sometimes wished you could be. And the way she leaned just a little too close to him, the way she seemed to light up at his attention, made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

Your mind started running wild with thoughts you didn’t want to entertain. What if Marshall wanted someone like Vanessa? Someone who didn’t second-guess themselves, who fit into his world so easily? You hated feeling this way, but it was like a voice in the back of your mind kept whispering that you weren’t enough—that eventually, he’d realize it, too. That one day, he’d grow tired of reassuring you, tired of your insecurities, and finally see what someone like her had to offer. The thought made your throat tighten, your hands fidgeting restlessly in your lap.

Marshall must have noticed the way you were picking at the hem of your sweater, staring at the floor instead of joining the conversation, because as soon as Vanessa stepped away to talk to one of the producers, he made his way over to you.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, concern replacing the lightheartedness he’d had just moments ago.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, though you knew you sounded anything but.

He frowned, tilting his head. “Come on, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

You hesitated, chewing on your lip before whispering, “She likes you.”

Marshall blinked, then sighed. “What? Vanessa?”

You nodded, keeping your gaze on the floor. “She’s all over you, Marshall. And I don’t blame her, I mean… look at you. You’re—” You swallowed, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re incredible.”

His brows furrowed, and he crouched down slightly so he could meet your eyes. “Hey, hey. Look at me.” When you finally lifted your gaze, his expression was serious. “I don’t see her like that. I don’t see anyone like that—except you.”

You tried to smile, but it wavered. “Doesn’t mean she doesn’t see you that way.”

He sighed, reaching out to take your hands in his. “I don’t care how she sees me. I care about how you feel.”

You swallowed hard, your insecurities pressing down on you like a weight. “I just… I don’t like feeling like I have to compete for you.”

His face softened as he squeezed your hands. “Baby, you don’t. You never have to. You’re my wife. You’re the one I come home to, the one I love. No one else even comes close.”

Your heart clenched at his words, but that little voice in the back of your mind still nagged at you. “But what if… what if one day you wake up and realize I’m not enough? That I’m too insecure, too emotional?”

Marshall’s expression turned even softer, and he gently cupped your face. “That’s never gonna happen. I love you—all of you. The way you overthink, the way you care, the way you love me. I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

Your eyes stung slightly, but the warmth of his touch helped ease some of the doubt weighing on you. “Promise?”

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “I swear.”

You exhaled, finally allowing yourself to lean into him. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close, and for the first time that night, you felt like you could breathe again.

Marshall leaned down to whisper, “Wanna get outta here? We can finish the night somewhere a little more… private.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “You’re lucky you’re sweet.”

He smirked. “I know.”

And just like that, the tension melted away, leaving only the undeniable love between you. Vanessa might have admired Marshall, but at the end of the day, he was yours—and that was all that mattered.

[reikafanfic]

Includes: Minor pet play, cunnilingus, Sub!Anton with Dom!reader

Very self indulgent, Also my first time writing smut✋🏼

Multiple typos and no sense of grammar, I refuse to proof read more than once.

Anton had never pegged himself as the type of guy who'd be into getting dommed, truthfully he hadn't thought about his sexual preferences that much. He knew he liked it when women were direct with him about what they wanted, he's way too shy to ask upfront, but aside from that he always filled the more "Dominant" role during sex...that is until he met you.

He isn't really sure how he ended up here, in your room, on the floor. He's completely naked and his torso is tied up with shibari, it isn't restricting any of his limbs so he can move freely, it's just there for the aesthetics. Since they "accentuate his sexy muscles" as you'd put it. The shibari is by far the least embarrassing thing you've got him wearing, he's supporting a collar, no not a choker, a fucking dog collar, and on top of that you made him wear dog ears.

Well, he likes to think you "made him" but if Anton is being honest with himself, he knows exactly how he ended up here. He's here because he wants to be, because he craves this....craves you.

What makes this situation even more humiliating is that he's the only one naked, you took off your coat and unbuttoned a few buttons on your top but aside from that you were completely clothed. You've got this shit eating grin on your face, face full of glee, you know he's wrapped around your little finger and if he wasn't so in love with you he'd say you were full of yourself.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of you staring at him with that hungry look in your eyes, you say something.

"Crawl to me. like a good dog." Anton's eyes widen at your words, He looks offended you would even suggest that.

"Just because I put this on for you doesn't mean I'm actually gonna-" Anton trails off as he sees you get up from your position on the bed, closing the distance between you two. Before he can say anything he feels a sharp sting across his cheek....you slapped him, you actually fucking slapped him. His breath hitches in his throat and he closes his eyes, instinctively savoring the stinging feeling on his cheek.

"Aw did that turn you on? That must be embarrassing" His cheeks are red as he looks down at his cock, he's dripping precum onto your floor and he's hard as a rock. The humiliation just turns him on more.

"Fuck- okay fine I am. i just-...." He looks up at you, his eyes pleading. "what do you want me to do?"

You sit back down on the bed, using your hand to beckon him over. He reluctantly starts crawling towards you, his ears and cheeks burning from embarrassment as he tries to ignore how much this is turning him on.

He looks up at you with a sad attempt at a glare, it hardly feels threatening when he's wearing dog ears and crawling around.

".....I could get you a tail too, like with a butt plug-"

"No." He says cutting you off

You laugh at how serious he looks. "okay okay fine, one thing at a time"

You pull up your skirt, pulling down your panties, smiling at how his eyes immediately glue themself to in-between your thighs. You hook one of your legs above his shoulder as he comes closer, his face resting against your lower thigh.

"Go on. Be good for me" Anton doesn't need to be told twice, his lips attaching themselves to your inner thigh, eagerly kissing their way up. His hands find their way to your hips, eagerly pulling you closer, you consider reprimanding him for not asking permission but it's hard to tell him no when he looks so wanting.

His lips finally find your cunt, he leaves a small peck on your clit before he's diving in, his face buried between your legs. Despite his earlier protests Anton seems to have no reservations about acting like a dog now, he laps you up like a mutt eating his first meal in days. You decide not to comment, your words would get stuck in your throat if you tried.

You reach down to tug at his hair, pulling him towards where you need him, he's being too messy. Thankfully he gets the message, taking a deep breath before his tongue is being pushed inside you and he's angling his nose right against your clit. You moan at the feeling, your brain feels all fuzzy from the pleasure.

He uses his hands to guide you to grind against his face, he moans into your pussy making you wrap your thighs around his face. It ends with you half riding his face as you cum all over it, using your hand that isn't occupied with pulling his hair to cover your moans.

Anton pulls back, the bottom half of his face is wet from eating you out and his cheeks are flushed. His eyes look unfocused and hazy while his lips are swollen pink, he looks gorgeous. You instinctively reach down to help him get off too only to find that he already came,...from eating you out.

"....You're really into this, huh?"

"Shut up."

Puppy boy Anton, my beloved. Had this idea floating around in my head for a while, not sure if I executed it well but I had fun writing it.

[fashionteahouse]

Somthing like LSD

Like reader loves quickies but embry not so much cause he likes to take his time w/ reader and so when reader is wanting sum she kinda looks to Paul cause Rachel told her Paul loves quickies too and so throughout the day reader is just missing and so is Paul but Rachel and embry know where they r

okie dokie ! hope you enjoy :)

AN: for those who want to check out l$d

pink diamond - paul x reader

Embry was hesitant. Usually, he was open to things. Things except for this. He looked at you with pleading eyes.

“Can we just wait until we’re at home. In our bed?”

“We always do that.” you whisper.

“I know but…” he sighs softly and you caress his cheek.

He stands up from sitting on the bathtub, making you get off from straddling him.

“I like to take my time with you, Y/N. It feels like a waste when it’s quick like this.”

You breathe out a quiet laugh with a kiss on his forehead, “You and that head.”

“I’m serious. It’s better like that. Slow. Sensual. Taking our time.” he says quietly as he kisses your hands.

“I know.” you say quietly.

The time that he did give in to a quickie, he felt like he was rushing. He doesn’t like to rush. He preferred long and slow strokes to have you whine and beg. Not the fast and hard strokes that made you lost for words.

You both come back to where the rest of the pack was watching a movie and sit back down on the couch.

At night, Rachel called. The conversation was playful until sex was brought up. It was normal for you two. Especially without Embry and Paul around.

“What do you mean he didn’t want to? Paul would’ve made something happen. Paul loves them.” Rachel chuckled.

“He just likes to take his time.” you say. You liked it, but you wanted that hard friction, the edge.

Rachel yawned loudly over the phone. You chuckle.

“You need help. I would be a terrible friend to let you not meet your needs.”

“Rachel, stop it.” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“I’m serious. Look, Paul rarely does slow but a quick stop in the bathroom? The spare bedroom?” she sighs snappily.

“So, you’re giving me ideas now?” you say into the phone.

“I’m just saying…Look, would you feel comfortable with doing something like that? With Paul?”

You think for a moment. He wasn’t bad looking, you were sure he knew what he was doing .

“Yeah. Just as long as it’s alright with both you and him.”

“Oh, that’s easy.” she says and you hear the smile in her tone.

A few days fly past and you honestly forget about the conversation.

Embry lays next to you after your climax has reached to an all time high.

“So…I have something to ask you.”

“What is it?” you ask as you blink at the last bit of stars that were dancing in your eyes.

“I know that you’re into quickies. If I knew someone who did to and I told you I had no problem with you fulfilling that, would you be alright with that?”

“Um…Sure just as long as it’s alright with you and that person.” you say and your mind immediately goes to Rachel and Paul.

“Don’t kill me but I’m serious…Paul.”

“Oh.”

He turns to you, “If you’re not comfortable-“

“No, no. It’s just that…Rachel suggested it and I didn’t really think…”

“Well, she talked to him…Hes alright with it. It’s alright with me.”

“It’s alright with her…”

“Is it alright with you?”

Your breath is even now, “It’s alright with me.”

The glances made your stomach jump. You stuttered out a hi to Paul as you all were over Sam and Emily’s. Spending the day together. Some of the pack weren’t there yet.

Emily made lunch. Rachel and Embry wanted to wait for the others while you and Paul sat at the table to eat. Sitting next to each other.

He could smell your arousal, he decided to keep a hand on your thigh. You had a hard time bringing the shaky hand that held your utensil to your mouth. You set it back down on your plate.

You swallow as his hand reached higher. You try to take a drink from your cup. His finger brushed your underwear. Water spills on your shirt.

“Damn.” you mutter.

“Oh, Y/N, I have an extra shirt you can get out of my bedroom. Paul do you mind showing her where it is?”

“Yeah.” he says and scoots his chair back. You’re still seated.

With a smirk he says, “Come on, Y/N. You’re wet.”

You slowly rise as Emily’s back is turned as she makes Sam a plate of food.

You follow him and before you could go into Emily’s bedroom, you pulled into the spare room instead.

You both were breathing heavily.

Two hands were firmly on the bed as your legs were already wobbly. Nothing even happened, but it was the anticipation.

The soft zip of the zipper was heard and you turn your head. His hand makes your head turn back ahead. His warm hands shoved your underwear down to your ankles.

You shakily breathe out as the tip of himself brushed against your soaked entrance. You grew excited and he covered your mouth with his large hand as you sigh out as he entered himself.

“Are you okay Y/N?” you heard Emily ask through the door.

You keep your eyes squeezed shut. He slowly removed his hand from your mouth. Your body is still moving forwards and backwards against him.

“Y-yes.” you say before groaning quietly. His grip is firmly deeply in your hips as your body rocked against his. You cover your mouth, even biting your palm as you try to keep quiet. It was killing you. You wanted to be loud, moan out, and whine out to how good it felt. But you couldn’t. He seemed to get more excited. More harder. You felt every inch come in and out and it was driving you a bit mad.

“Well, I saved you some cookies. The boys destroyed the batch I made.”

“T-thanks.” you say and prayed that she went away.

You quietly grunted as you gripped the sheets harder and your face was now on the bed before his grunt was in your ear before he pulled out of you.

“I was afraid this shirt wouldn’t look right on me.” you say to Emily. She laughs, “Y/N, you’re okay. Here.”

She hands you a plate of cookies that she indeed set aside for you. You ate since you worked up an appetite, Paul steals a cookie off of your plate.

Embry comes in from the backyard and taps Paul’s shoulder and Paul slips out to join the others playing a football match.

After helping Emily with cooking, she asked if you could get ice from the garage deep freezer. You nod as she fell into conversation with another imprint.

You’re bent over as you try to pull the heavy bag out but you feel hands on your hips. You turn and Paul is staring dead at you.

“Again?” you whisper.

He doesn’t say anything. Tugging you away from the freezer so he could shut it. Lifting you from under your underarms, you’re placed right on top.

You hold onto him tight but it was hard to keep the noises from spilling out. As he thrusted with deep control, he kept his mouth on yours so you wouldn’t give up the spot of you two.

Thrusting his hips forward, his hands gripped your thighs and back to keep you close. Your legs were firmly around his waist. The deep freezer rocked slightly as you two went hard. He felt so good and you felt so full and the fast friction just made everything so much better.

You set the big bag of ice on the counter and use something to break up the ice.

Emily walks in and opens the refrigerator, she groans to herself.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Totally forgot…I told you to get ice and we have no drinks to ice.” she says with a shake of her head.

“That’s okay. I’ll go. I want to get air anyway.” you tell her.

She smiles, “Thanks so much.”

The door closed behind you as you walked outside before you heard the door close again. You turn around and Paul is walking, coming right behind you.

In the home, Sam comes out of the bathroom, he looks around the home.

“Where’s Paul and Y/N?”

“Store. They’ll be back.” Rachel says not taking her eyes off the tv.

You both get into the car. You actually think he’s driving to the store, only to pull to a stop in an empty space.

“Paul?”

“We’re just going to go in the backseat. I’m tired of us being quiet.” he says with a jerk of his head. He opens his car door and you immediately follow.

You sat shyly in the backseat and he sits back in the seat, shoving his shorts down, letting himself spring out. He takes your arm and have you straddle him.

Your gasps weren’t muffled. His hands were firmly on your breasts as you bounced on him. The tingles in your face and in your body seemed to explode. You place a hand on the window as you moan out to continue to take in his hardened flesh in your pink diamond.

It felt good to not be quiet, to be this vocal. To hear Paul’s encouraging grunts and words. He went hard. You went hard. It was dark but a streetlight reflected the quickie that you both were enjoying. The car rocking, both out of breath, and the shine of sweat was plastered on the lower part of both bodies.

“Why are you walking like that?” Jacob asks as sees you set a bottle of soda on the counter.

“Why does your face look like that?” Paul says to him before taking his cup full of soda in the living room. Jacob follows him to get his insult off of his chest.

Embry emerges as you gave him a cup of something to drink.

He brings you close, a hand around your waist as he peaked down at you, “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” you whisper, “How about you?”

“I’m fine.” he says. He takes a sip before he extends his cup to you. You take it and drink some before handing it back to him.

“You ready to go home?” he asks you. You nod with a small smile. Trying to walk on noodle legs, Embry chuckles quietly as he picks you up bridal style. You both make the journey back home.

[anxiouswildfire]

wait, are you still taking fanfiction prompts? if so, I'd love a fic where arthur notices how bulked out and super mature looking merlin had got by the end. like... when you see someone every day you don't always notice those sorts of changes until something happens and it all hits you at once. and I imagine arthur would have Feelings about it. I feel like you'd kill it <3

I am still taking fanfic prompts!

As to gay panic Arthur at Merlin’s awesomeness.. it sounds awesome. Here’s a little thing I wrote. I’ll let you know if I turn it into a longer fic or the like.

The thing about seeing someone every day is that you don’t notice the little changes. Well, even big changes are hard to notice when they come in the form of gradual change.

Arthur had been making fun of his scrawny little servant for years now. 10 years in fact. He’s seen that same servant grow in height as well as character. And vice versa.

Arthur himself had grown into his swordsmanship. He had the honour and true courage to go with his fast acting fighting.

And it wasn’t like he missed all the change that happened to his friend. He grew at least an inch and learned a lot about politics.

Arthur prided himself on his observation skills. Others would say he’s blind as a bat off the training grounds, though. He could sense a bandit coming from a mile away, but many made fun of him behind his back for the obvious lack of awareness of Merlin’s love for him.

So of course, he didn’t think that he missed anything about Merlin. He watched his manservant all the time. Not in like.. a creepy way. And no, gwaine, not in a lovesick way either.. definitely not.

But despite all that, arthur had to admit that there were a few times in his life where there were things he did not notice.

The first was on some random day in late spring. Arthur was training when he got the bright idea to put merlin in some armour and onto the training field.

“Alright, merlin, all you got to do it hold out the sword and try not to die.” Arthur instructed, trying not to laugh. “I’ll correct you on your form as you fight Lancelot.”

Lancelot looked up from where he was standing. “Me?”

“I trust you to go easy in him, the poor man.”

“Hey I’m not that useless!” Merlin insisted, standing there holding the wooden sword in front of him in surprisedly good form.

“Of course you’re not, Merlin.” Lancelot said easily.

The two fought. Lancelot went easy on him, yes, but merlin was not too bad. Lancelot was one of the best and yet even he was working up a sweat.

Soon Merlin threw off his helmet, “it’s way too hot for this.”

“Come on merlin.” Teased Arthur, “no bandit will wait for you to take off your helmet!”

“Okay, yeah whatever.” He got back into action

Despite Merlin’s decent attempt, Lancelot soon got the upper hand.

Merlin pulled off his chain mail and then his shirt.

Arthur’s protests died when he saw Merlin. It wasn’t the first time he saw the other man shirtless, but this time seemed a bit different. Sweat drew his eyes lower and he had to pull himself away. Merlin wasn’t the skinny guy of 18 anymore. He had filled out over the years, with chores and with good food, he was no longer scrawny. Arthur gaped at the other man. When did his best friend become.. hot? The scars of battle covered the man’s chest, running down. Some were obviously deep wounds that healed over time, others newer.

“Whatcha looking at, sire?”

“..Where did you learn to fight?” Arthur asked after a slightly too long pause.

“You taught me.”

“Oh.” After one last glance at his best friend’s torso, he threw his shirt back at him. “You have chores to do, Merlin.”

Merlin was handsome, when did that happen?

Then of course, there was the time when Arthur asked for advice and merlin gave some really sage answer and Arthur later that night panicked.

Since when was my merlin.. wise? Since always right?

But then he remembered how serious he looked and how mature he took the topic. He realized that merlin actually knew when it was tiem to joke amc when it was time to be serious. And, man, was his serious face hot. Wait what?

Merlin was smart and mature and wise, when did that happen?

Then there was the time when merlin was making fun of him.

“Arthur, you cabbagehead.” Merlin was saying, completely normal thing for him to say so why it struck Arthur was a mystery

He looks so.. cute. Wait. Arthur stopped his thoughts. No way did he just think merlin was cute for calling him a cabbagehead. That was so uniquely Merlin. And oh my goddesses.. he’s in love. he’s so in love with his own best friend and he didn’t even notice.

“Hello, earth to Arthur? Heh earth arthur earth arthur.” Merlin snorted. “Almost rhymes.”

“You are so stupid and I am so madly in love with you.”

Merlin blinked, turning red. “What?

[grumpyghostdoodles]

genuine question how the fuck are they supposed to get them grandchildren

do the kids just materialize out of thin air

what

＊ *☆ · 。MonsterMagic MPreg, I Guess ＊ * ☆ · 。 ☆

Theres not enough vodka in the world to make me try to figure out the logistics of it, and im 100% sure that theres already hundreds of PregnantSans fics that have it figured it out. But since i never read any SansxWhoever fics, Im going to say that its thanks to monsters souls/magic.

Monsters are born out of love, right? So im just going to take that info and run with it XD

[mrsriddlenott]

~Teach Me, Please~

Bsf!JJ Maybank x Innocent!Reader

Warnings: oral(m&f receiving), bit of a handjob, praise kink, spit kink, innocent reader but she’s lowkey in control, reader kinda gets bullied in the beginning but not directly. Not proofread.

{masterlist} • {PART TWO)

————

“She’s like their little sister,” you heard the kook girl you didn’t recognize laugh as she spoke about you, “She follows them around like a groupie, JJ most of all. It’s like she doesn’t know what to do with what she has, I would be flirting non-stop if I was with him as much as she is. JJ is absolutely delicious.”

“I think they’ll always be just friends,” her equally annoying friend giggles, the pair clearly not noticing you behind them or simply not caring, “I mean look at how innocent she is, I doubt she would know how to please him if she had the chance. She has literally never had a boyfriend, she probably has never given head in her life and JJ gets around a lot he has plenty of better options. Hell he probably doesn’t pay enough attention to even notice her raging crush on him anyway. You should definitely go for it tonight, I’ve heard he’s good.”

You huffed, stomping off back towards the couch you had left JJ on. What annoyed you the most wasn’t the shit talking, you knew people talked, especially kooks who somehow had nothing better to do. What hurt was the accuracy. Despite being the same age as your fellow pogues, and knowing JJ and JB since the third grade, you were still very much innocent. Especially when compared to your ragtag group of friends.

You knew they didn’t mind, they all loved you no matter what. Kie helped you as much as she could but it was pointless, you just didn’t know how to be as laid back as them. You had fun and loved to party as much as they did, but you still preferred a nice night in with a movie. And while part of you used to worry you held them back, they made sure you knew you could always come to them. So when you saw JJ wave you back over with a questioning look in his eyes you knew you could ask him to help you with anything.

And your crush on him had totally and absolutely nothing to do with that decision.

“Will you teach me how to give a blowjob?” You blurt out, dropping onto the couch infront of JJ’s outstretched arm as though everything was normal. He gagged on the gulp of beer he’d just taken before looking to you with wide eyes, trying to decipher if he heard you properly.

“What’d you jus’ say?” His voice was breathless as he wiped his face of spilt beer, your eyes tracing the droplets that escaped down his neck.

“I want you to teach me how to give good head.” You stated, stretching the words to make your intentions clear. You watched JJ’s eyes bounce between your eyes and lips, the gears in his brain working overtime to decide if you were joking or not.

“Like- uh.” JJ starts, his voice strained while he needlessly wipes his mouth again, spreading his legs on the coach and making room for himself and letting his knee touch yours, “Like on what though.” He arches his eyebrow to look at you, not wanting to be presumptuous but wanting nothing more than to help you directly.

JJ would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about you like that a million times. He wanted you, he just never admitted it out loud because he thought you deserved better. He messed around and acted out while you and John B cleaned up after him but over the years he started to notice a distinct difference in his feelings for Jonh B compared to those he had for you. However, he decided long ago he wouldn’t act on any of them unless you did first, he couldn’t risk ruining you because you were just so good.

“On you Jay, come on don’t make me feel weird about it.” The whining tone of your voice makes JJ bite his lip, unsure if this was ethical. JB would surely frown upon this and Kie would probably kill him for corrupting you. But he was having a hard time fighting the urge now as you looked up to him with pleading eyes.

“Well I don’t wanna take advantage of you or anything, y’know?” He stutters over his words slightly as he fumbles to find anything to say, making you giggle in that way he loves so much. You had never once seen JJ flustered or worried about a girl asking to suck him off and you honestly couldn’t believe it was you who got that honor.

“But I asked you to show me JJ, I want you to teach me.” You beg him, turning your body on the couch to face him fully, placing a hand on his exposed bicep.

And his resolve snapped.

He tossed his half full beer can aside as he stood, not caring where it landed. His hand took your own hand, gently but assertively pulling you up with him. He held onto you tightly, not wanting to lose you while weaving through the crowd in the Chateau making the way to the bedroom he made his. You caught sight of the first kook girl in passing, noticing the way she tried to catch JJ’s eyes only to be ignored. Her face contorted in surprise and disgust while you laughed softly before JJ was yanking you into his room and locking the door behind you both.

“C’mere,” JJ instructed, waving two fingers towards him. When you turn to him he’s facing away from you, grabbing a pillow from the top of his bed and tossing it on the floor at his feet. The bed creeks from his weight flopping onto it, manspreading while watching your slightly shocked and confused face, unable to hide his smile. “Come on, y’wanna learn or not.”

Your legs carry you to him, anxiously messing with the hem of your dress now that you can make out the bulge in his shorts. “Are you sure you want to do this?” His voice draws your gaze back to his and you can see the excitement whirling behind his blue eyes dropping you to your knees carefully, leaning into the comfort of his pillow.

“Thanks for the pillow,” You whisper, locking eyes with him from between his legs, “I didn’t know guys did that, I’ve never seen it in the porn I watch.”

“You watch porn?! Oh my god this keeps gettin’ better.” JJ groans with a smile, knocking his head back and letting you watch his adam’s apple bob, “I’ve never done it before, I just didn’t want you to bruise your knees.”

“Good to know I’m special.” You laugh awkwardly, wiggling with excited and nervous energy where you leant before him. He released an airy laugh above you, looking down at you again, his pupils dilated.

“You have no idea,” JJ’s voice was breathless and his words caught in his throat slightly, “Do you wanna get started on our lesson Princess?” JJ asked teasingly, running his fingers down your warm cheek, stopping to lift your head up by your chin. You nodded, shell shocked as you stare up at him unable to force your mouth to form words.

“I need you to tell me,” He whispered, leaning forward slowly until his lips ghost against yours, “If I’m going to finally corrupt you I need you to ask Cupcake.” Your eyes fluttered shut, taking in his scent as your heart rapped against your ribcage.

“I want you Jay….T-to teach me, please.” Your eyes flick open just in time to catch a wicked grin spread across his face before your cheeks were cupped in his warm palms, tugging your lips into his in a heated kiss. Your sighs mingle together, finally exploring what you both silently desired for so long. His tongue danced across your bottom lip asking for entrance as you gasped letting his tongue fight yours, forcing a moan from you that vibrated against his lips. He pulled away slowly, spit connecting you for a second before you’re licking your lips subconsciously. JJ observes your furrowed eyebrows and the redness flooding over your skin as your eyes stay closed in obvious pleasure.

“Still with me Gorgeous?” JJ asks, tapping your cheeks lightly, smiling excitedly as he watches you look up at him. His painfully hard erection rubbed against the zipper of his shorts as he adjusts his hips. Leaning back and resting his weight on his forearms, his crotch looming in front of you, your wide eyes telling him you have no clue how to start this. “Put your hands on my knees,” He instructs, shivering under your touch when you listen immediately, your cool hands resting against his steadily warming skin, “Good girl, now I want you to slowly move them up, like you’re not sure you want to take my pants off yet, tease me y’know?”

Your breath hitches at his praise, and he notices. You whimper as you try and follow his instructions drifting your hands across his broad thighs and letting your fingers tease under the fabric of his shorts, “You like being my good girl don’t you?” He asks, his voice teasing only slightly, his breathy voice making your thighs clench, rubbing them together desperate for friction.

“Yes, I do,” His eyes immediately catch onto the movement of your thighs, biting his lip while he watches you wiggle in front of him. He twitches in his shorts at the thought of you getting off to his pleasure, moaning loudly when he takes your hand in his pressing your palm directly into his bulge. Using his larger hand to move yours to perfectly cup around him and uses your palm moving it against his shaft as he swallows, desperately trying to collect himself.

“K-keep doing that until you’re ready,” He sighs, letting you continue at your own pace, moving his hand up to your hair to fix it, not wanting it to fall into your face as he watched your features for signs of distress, “When you want to unbuckle my belt and-“ He gasps cutting off his sentence when your fingers immediately jump to hastily undo his belt. Your shaking hands struggle for a few awkward seconds before you’re tugging his shorts down his thighs exposing his black boxers. JJ lifts his hips to let you discard his shorts fully, tossing them aside as you stare into his eyes triumphantly, “Good girl.”

Your wide smile as your hands tease their way back up his naked thighs just as he taught you has him reeling, practically shaking with excitement. “You like being praised, don’t you Mama?” He asks, tugging his lip between his teeth when your fingers find his cock again. He tugs your hand upward, moaning when he presses your hand into his tip, stopping your movements entirely until you respond.

“Yes Jay.” You whine, your tone impatient as you wiggle your hand under his, making him release a breathy moan laced with a laugh as he releases your hand, letting it continue it’s excited exploration of him. Your free hand started to sneak it’s way up his body, making him jolt forward as your cold hand found it’s way into his shirt.

“Who do you wanna learn this for?” JJ blurts out, not entirely wanting to hear the answer as he tugs his shirt over his head impatiently. Closing his eyes as your nails dig their way back down his chest, part of him wondering how you knew he’d like that.

“Myself.” JJ feels the smile grow back on his face, relief flooding his body as he opens his eyes, locking onto your wide gaze looking up to him expectantly. You want his instructions, and he wants to draw this out.

“So there’s no one in that precious mind of yours right now?” He asks, letting his eyes fall down your face, gazing at your wet lips before eyeing your cleavage and wiggling hips. Trying to suppress that part of him that wants you to stay here like this forever.

“Well,” You giggle, palming him through his boxers just over his tip, loving the way his head falls back with a moan when you apply more pressure, “Right now I have you on my mind Jay.”

“Fuck, you have no idea what that does to me,” He smiles towards the ceiling, imagining all the times he came in his hand to this exact scenario, “I thought you were too good for me, why’d ya ask me?”

“Some girls at the party were talking about me, calling me your groupie and saying I wouldn’t know what to do with you if you ever gave me the chance, and I really wanted a chance.” You sigh, drifting your hand down his toned abs to tease the elastic of his underwear, letting it snap against his skin as your excited eyes find his again.

“Oh Princess,” he cooed caressing your cheek, “You have always had the chance. You were the first girl I ever imagined doing this for me.” His eyes went wide when he realized what he had said, almost backtracking before you interrupted him to speak.

“Good, because I can’t imagine anyone else teaching me, I trust you, I want it to be you.” You state simply, locking your eyes in his gaze and taking not of the hitch in his breath. In a spurt of confidence you’re tugging his boxers down his thighs, eyeing his thick, throbbing cock as it bounces free, eyes meeting his again in a beg, “Tell me what to do Jay.”

“First give the tip a kiss Baby,” You do as your told, touching your lips against his hot, red tip as it leaks precum onto your lips, “Mmm, fuck now get your tongue nice and wet and lick up the middle, when it feels right slide my tip against your tongue n’suck on it like those Cherry suckers you’re always begin’ me for.”

You laugh, suddenly feeling more and more confident as you watch him come undone above you. “Is that what you want Jay? Or are you goin’ easy on me?”

“If you think you can take me in one go do it Princess, but don’t think I’m pressuring you,” He sighed, watching your tongue wet the side of his pulsing cock, “I want you to go at the pace you’re comfortable with.”

You smile up at him as you separate from him, letting spit coat your tongue before moving to lick up the prominent vein popping out of the other side of his cock. He groans above you, subconsciously moving his hips closer to your mouth in uncontrollable excitement. As your lips caress against his red, leaking tip you slowly let spit drip from your lips onto him, watching as it drips down him and pools in the bit of trimmed hair at his base. His eyes pop from his head when you bring your hand up to spread your saliva over him, pumping your hand slowly and twisting it like you’d seen in videos. You watched his furrowed eyebrows, buying yourself time to work up enough spit in your mouth to take him fully. His lips tug into his teeth as his hips stutter upward into your hand.

“Where did you learn to do that?” JJ gasps, stuttering and twitching in your wet hand.

“Porn.” Your sickly sweet voice has him moaning and tugging at your hair, forcing you’re eyes up to his.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He states before slamming his lips into yours, moving you back by your hair wrapped around his fist. You gape up at him wide mouthed, your hand speeding up when his eyes bounce between your open, drooling mouth and your blown out eyes as though asking for permission. You nod your head to him, not sure what he wanted to do but okay with it nonetheless. His free hand jumped to your chin, tugging your mouth open wider before leaning down and spitting directly onto your tongue. Rolling your eyes into the back of your head as you moan you shiver in front of him at the feeling of his spit mixing with yours, unknowingly helping you in your previous goal.

JJ chuckles at your reaction, moaning slightly when your hand speeds up again. You savior the feeling of his spit in your mouth for a second, your eyes latching onto his as you smile wickedly. JJ only takes a second’s pause before his eyed widen watching your mouth dip lower, his fingers subconsciously tightening in your hair, moving his other to grip the bed and ground himself. Breath fills your lungs from your nose, prepping yourself before teasing his tip with your tongue for only a second before you slowly slide him into your mouth. His hips jolt forward subconsciously, shuddering breathlessly when your eyes meet his over your lashes again. JJ curses under his breath, watching you take almost every inch of him in one go, sliding your head down his shaft, resting your hand at his base when you can’t fit anymore.

JJ moans loudly when you swallow around him, jerking his hips into you desperately trying to control himself, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you cut him off quickly, shoving your head as far down as you can go, feeling his tip twitching in the back of your throat as you gag around him. You pop your head up, dragging your tongue against the underside of his shaft, moaning at his taste and sending vibrations through him. You suckle on his tip, preparing yourself as you gasp for breath around him. You start to bob your head up and down him, swirling your tongue as you go dropping low enough to feel his pubes tickle your cheeks, his hands moving to the back of your head to tug your hair into his fingers.

“You’re a natural,” JJ sighs, “Feel like imma cum already Gorgeous, fuck.” Gazing up at him you watch his eyes try and stay open, try to maintain eye contact until they flutter shut when the tip of your tongue grazes his ballsack unintentionally. JJ subconsciously pushes your head down, pulling a moan from you as he groans into his bitten lip, hooded eyes watching you intently now as he tugs you off of him with a pop. His hand stays in your hair, his eyes watching the way your spit dribbles down your chin, mixing with your lipstick and contrasting the black mascara running down you cheeks.

“I want you to try something, but only if you’re comfortable okay?” You nod to him desperately, ignoring the fact that your hair’s probably a mess in his hand, “Flatten out your tongue f’me,” His voice was demanding but soft still, a side of him you had never seen before beginning to come forward, “Yea, good girl just like that,” He says as he watches you stick your tongue out for him, spit dripping down the middle and directly onto is erect cock, “Now lean down and suck on my balls Sweetheart.” Your eyes went wide watching how he bobbed infront of your face. “If you don’t want to that-“

A shiver runs down his spine and directly into his rock hard cock when your warm tongue drags against his heavy sack before you suck one into your mouth, his hand tugs into your hair harder instinctively as he shudders. His shaft twitches against your face, your tongue swirlly against his salty flesh, tugging off him with a pop. You look up to him, makeup dyed spit dripping off your chin and down your chest, “Like that?”

“Yes yes just like that,” He gasps, desperation laced in his tone, immediately making you drop your head back. Sucking his other tight ball into your mouth, swirling your tongue while he shakes you slowly move your hand that was supporting your weight on his knee under your dress, circling your clothed clit with two fingers. Moaning around him as your eyes flutter shut feeling the wet patch seeping through your underwear.

“Open your eyes and look at me,” JJ growls when he catches your hands movement, his hand caress your face gently contrasting his hard tone. Despite wanting to listen your eyes stay shut as you speed up your fingers movement, “Thought you said you liked being a good girl, now listen to me.”

Letting your eyes flicker open you feel your cheeks heating up even more when you catch his gaze. His blue eyes only egg you on further, your fingers speeding up subconsciously while he stares at you with a smile. Breathing through your nose you continue your mouths exploration of him, popping your mouth off of his flesh only to immediately suck his tip into your mouth again. JJ’s hand tugs your hair into a ponytail as you bob your mouth on him, his tip hitting your throat each time making you gag and moan on him. The vibrations of your noises make his hips jolt uncontrollably, his body and dick twitching together as your spit pools on his groin and slips down his thighs.

He releases a loud needy groan when you force your mouth off him, his hand falling from your hair and clutching the blanket below him, mumbling incoherently while trying to ask why you stopped. He whines loudly gasping and gripping the bed so hard his knuckles turn white when you drag your wet tongue from the middle of his ballsack directly to his tip. Moaning when he twitched against your face, sucking him into your mouth while you eye his adam’s apple bobbing. Sensing he was close you stop your fingers with a whine around him, moving in order to move your hands to support yourself on his knees as you suck your cheeks in. You drag your mouth down his shaft and JJ whimpers, shoving his hand into your hair and tugging as he cums down your throat, filling your mouth as you moan.

“Fuck I’m so sorry, I didn’t have time to warn you, do you need’ta spit?” He asks, trying to ignore the tingle running down his spine at the sight of his cum dribbling past your lips.

“It’s okay,” You state simply licking your lips clean, the sweet tone in your voice not changing despite the more than inappropriate circumstances, “Your cum tastes so good Jay, look I swallowed it already.” You stick your tongue out to him, showing what little residue remains as he groans above you again.

“If you need anymore lessons, you can always, and i mean always, come to Papa Jay.” His breathless voice makes you laugh as you hop up to sit next to him on the bed.

“Do you wanna take my virginity too.” The burst of confidence making him cum gave you almost wears off at the look of shock that grows onto JJ’s face.

“Damn Mama, you are so fucking bold tonight, you have no clue how many times I have imagined you asking me that.” He smiles at you, his large ring clad hand gripping your thigh as it sits beside him, “Wanna tell me how long you have been fantasizing about your best friend poppin’ your cherry?”

“Forever.”

“Mmmhmm, that’s what I wanted to hear.” JJ groans, pulling your thighs apart and shoving you backwards letting your dress ride up. He rolls over you, settling over you where you lay on his bed, framing your face with his arms. “I think it’s your turn right now though don’t you?” Shivers run down your spine at his tone, subconsciously trying to rub your thighs together earning a teasing laugh from JJ. You brace yourself on his waste, tugging him closer to you as his lips crash into yours, tongues immediately starting to fight for dominance only for him to win with a groan.

“We should save your first time until there’s not a dozen people right outside the door.” Lowering his voice to a whisper as he lightly digs his hips into you, “And I think we need to have a conversation before we….move forward.” Letting his lips graze your neck as he keeps going he smiles at your gasps of appreciation, “But don’t think I don’t really, really want to right now.”

JJ’s teeth tug at the spaghetti strap string of your dress as he crawls lower down your body, letting it snap back against your skin with a sigh, “You’re so fucking gorgeous, so perfect I can’t even look at you sometimes.” The warm feeling of his tongue against your collar bone has you bucking against him desperately, hissing when his teeth nip at the exposed flesh of your breast.

“I love when you wear this dress,” JJ moans against your skin, his head falling low enough to push his face into your chest for a few seconds, wiggling it around dramatically, making you laugh before be continues his decent, “I don’t wanna take it off.” He groans, biting at your flesh through the fabric.

“Then don’t.” You say breathlessly, smiling down to him as you tangle your fingers into his hair. He smiles back to you, quickly pushing himself down the bed the rest of the way so he was face to face with your exposed thighs. With a quick flick of his wrists he flips the hem of your dress up, exposing your damp matching underwear.

“You matched your underwear to your outfit? That’s so cute.” JJ groans, dipping his head to bite at the flesh of your thigh as his hands slowly work their way up your thighs. He pulls back, watching intently as he slips his fingers past the lace hem of your underwear, tugging them down as you lift your hips to help. You watch him as he tosses your underwear behind him, his eyes meeting yours for a second seeking consent as he shoves your thighs further apart, putting you completely on display for him. JJ licks his lips as he eyes you, moving his hands slowly under and around your thighs resting them on his shoulders before shoving your hips down with his large palms. He groans loudly as he bites into the flesh of your thigh beside him, slowly licking his way to your center and leaving a wet trail behind.

His hands hold your hips down hard as they jolt upward with your moan and laughs into you happily. Eyeing the way your head falls back, your chest rising and fallen he quickly speeds up his tongues pursuit of your clit. Watching you as one hand hangs above your head and the other plays with his hair, JJ can’t think of anything that looks better.

“Oh my god,” You yell, the feeling of his tongue flattening against you, slowly licking back and forth over your clit before quickly sucking it into his mouth. You scream a moan at the sensation, tugging at JJ’s hair aggressively not caring if anyone outside the door can hear your pleasure. “Do that again Jay.” JJ’s lips pop off of you into a smile, his lips glistening with your release before he drops his head back into you. Flicking his tongue aggressively against you as he licks up your slit, groaning at the feeling of your nails against his scalp when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. JJ can feel himself growing hard against the blanket at your taste, your shaking legs egging him on as your release quickly approaches.

The feeling of JJ’s tongue prodding at your entrance as you clench on nothing has the tightening feeling in your abdomen worsening, making you whine and wiggle your hips subconsciously. The grip of JJ’s hands on your hip tightens, his nails digging into your flesh as he grinds himself into the mattress at your excitement. He plunges his tongue into you, collecting your juices on his tongue with a desperate groan, his eyes flickering shut as he moves to flick his tongue against your puffy clit again. JJ pulls back quickly making you whine and tug at his hair, trying to shove him back into you and forcing a wicked laugh from him as he spits directly onto you and dives back in. You shudder when he starts to lap against you wildly, your hips jolting and your back arching, your hands tugs on his hair harder as you cum, the almost painful band in your abdomen breaking in a euphoric release. Moaning so loudly you know for sure anyone close enough to the door could hear but you didn’t care as you came undone on your best friend’s tongue, breath shaking as your body twitches.

JJ’s tongue slows, pushing himself up to get a better look at your post orgasm face, your eyes unfocused and your mouth open in gasping breaths. He slowly crawls up your body, smiling in your face and you smile back at him the best your can, he groans at the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your hair sticking to your forehead as he smash his lips into you. The taste of yourself lingers on his tongue as you both moan into each other.

——————

I might wanna do a part 2 of this for their first time, would anyone be interested in that?

PART TWO: Another Lesson?

[ds-angel1]

Bunny - brotherly love

cw: SMUT(18+), incest, piv sex, dubcon, hand job, finger sucking, nipple/titties play, reader being pervy and sneaking into Rafe´s room while he´s sleeping, age gap(18 and 25), DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT!!

wc: ~ 1,6k

a/n: first post and first fic, pls dont cancel me... yay

You knew it was vile, you knew it was dark and twisted.

You tried to stop—oh, how you tried--wrestling with shadows in your mind, drowning your thoughts in the shallow pools of distraction.

But they rose like whispers through the flood, unyielding, unrelenting. No, it didn’t work. It never did.

You still bit your lip every time he was shirtless. Your chest still flushed every time he was in your near vicinity. You still imagined him every time you reached your nimble fingers into your cotton panties.

Rafe.

Your brother.

It all started because of a simple joke. One that your friends made.

“Stop, oh my god, your brother is so hot, I’d let him hit so hard,” your best friend giggled as she munched on the popcorn you had cooked up for all 4 of you for movie night.

“Oh, hell yes!” Interjected another of your friends, her voice enthusiastic, “I would let him hit even if I was his sister!”

The living room erupted in giggles before they disappeared and the girls surrounding you focused their attention on the movie again.

Your attention stayed on the topic prior though. On him. Like any human mind would, your thoughts conjured up a realistic third-person image of your big brother fucking you. But what your mind did that not any human mind would do, was like the idea. Your eyes stared at the floor as you pictured the feeling, the view, the sounds. You clenched your thighs and bit your bottom lip—

“Hey, watcha nerds doin’?” He asked with a smirk as he appeared from behind, clad in only sweatpants.

You felt your cheeks flush at the realization of what you had been fantasizing about.

“Nothing, just watching a movie,” you muttered.

“Gee, no need to be so cold, bunny,” he laughed as he ruffled your hair. Bunny was a nickname he came up with for you. When you were 3 years old you just loved hopping around so 10-year-old Rafe decided to call you Bunny. It stuck. He perpetually calls you Bunny even now, 15 years later when you wouldn’t call yourself much of a hopper.

You had always been close. He was a great big brother, protective, and kind, always played with you when your parents were too busy. When you had a nightmare as a kid, you wouldn’t come rushing to your parent’s room, no, you´d sprinted to Rafe’s.

Innocent nights where he comforted you to sleep in his bed. But now you were imagining being in his bed again, but not him comforting you; him fucking you relentlessly. Nothing innocent about that.

Right now you were tossing and turning in your pink, fluffy sheets. You had rutted against a pillow for almost an hour, trying to block out his face but it just kept coming, then you rubbed your aching clothed core for what seemed like an eternity but the need and desperation never subsided.

The need and desperation for your brother.

When you threw your head to the side and saw that the purple, flower-decorated clock on your wall read 2 A.M., you just couldn’t take it anymore. You threw your blanket off of your body, yanking your legs to the side of your bed and then your body to stand.

With as much sneakiness and smoothness as you could conjure up, you slipped out of your bedroom, the patter of your feet fon the firm grey carpet in the hall sounding like church bells in your ears.

Right before the end of the hall, you turned your body left, finding yourself face to face with Rafe’s room. “KEEP OUT” stood in bold messy letters on a burgundy sign hung on the door.

Your parents never really paid much attention to it and just stormed in whenever they wanted. He was a 25-year-old still living with his parents, who could blame them for ignoring his rules?

Your fingers played with the hem of your nightgown nervously before you lifted one of your hands to slowly push down the door handle and crack the door open.

The small creak that came from the wood moving made you cringe in fear. Once the space was wide enough for you to fit, you entered his room.

There he was, lying sprawled out on his black satin bed cover, hair unruly and spiked. His body lay wide and stretched out on the mattress, his boxers the only thing covering him. His blanket lay on the ground as it seemed to always after he slept, even as a kid he did backflips and dances in his slumber.

The thoughts in your mind that screamed that this was wrong were drowned out by the sight of the slight bulge in his boxers.

You knew it was wrong. So so wrong. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

You climbed onto the bed, crawling towards where he lay. He looked cute like this, snoring ever so slightly and a tiny bit of drool accumulating in the corner of his mouth.

Anxiously you moved on top of him, making sure to not let a single fiber of your legs or arms touch him.

After you had hyped yourself up enough to do it, you leaned back, letting your ass hit his thighs in a gentle fluid motion and your hands find his chest.

A moment of silence overtook the room and once you were sure he was still asleep you started moving again. Your hands found their way to his boxers, gripping the elastic band at the top and then without a single bit of haste pulling it down. Your hips lifted off of him and you dragged the plaid material all the way down to his shins and calves.

He stirred a bit, the cold air hitting his now bare crotch waking him a bit but he quickly settled into sleep again.

When you were extremely sure he was out cold again you finally let your eyes travel down. His half-hard cock, pretty and pink, barely at its full length and potential, and yet still managed to make you softly whimper out loud.

With a shaky hand, you reached forward, wrapping your small fingers around his thick base and pumping a few times. You weren’t a stranger to this, but this felt different. And no, not because he was your brother and it felt wrong. No, it felt right. Perfect.

A groan fell from his lips and he twisted his upper body, eyes squeezing shut even more tightly. At the sudden noise and movement, you immediately pulled your hand back, eyes widening in fear and worry.

In a desperate attempt to flee the scene, you kneeled up fully, accidentally brushing one of your plush tights against his tip.

It seemed that that was the only sensation left to wake him as a moment later you found yourself staring straight into your brother’s icy blue eyes.

His gaze left yours as he gained consciousness, pupils flicking around and taking in everything.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” He whisper-shouted, confusion, anger and something else you hoped was desire present on his features.

“Um…” Your brain was frozen, all you could do was stare at him in horror as you knelt over him.

“You’re my fucking sister! And you’re 18! We could get fucking arrested! Me especially, you—“ he cut off before he could finish that thought as he saw your eyes watering.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” he half ordered, half reassured, “Bunny, it’s gonna be okay. This never happened, okay? Go back to your room and—“ yet again he didn’t finish his sentence. This time it was because he had gripped your hips, hoping to lift you off of him, but instead, he accidentally brushed your nightdress up a bit and revealed your naked sex to him.

“Fuuuuck,” he groaned, “God, Bunny…”

Nothing happened for a few seconds, silence and stillness taking over the bedroom. Then without warning he grasped your hips even tighter and sank you onto his thick, throbbing cock, causing you to moan and whimper out loudly.

Quickly, Rafe’s hand shot up, stuffing three fingers into your mouth to shut you up.

“Shh, Bunny, don’t want mommy and daddy hearing you now, do we?” His voice whispered sharply between heavy panted breaths.

You rolled your hips, gagging on his fingers as they roughly probed down your throat.

“Fuck, such a little slut for your big brother, huh Bunny?” He tantalized, hissing as you started bouncing up and down on his cock.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, his blunt tip hitting that perfect spot on your cervix every damn time. When he forced your dress down your shoulders and took one of your rosy pink buds into his mouth you felt as if your eyes could do a whole 360-degree spin.

You were sure the scene looked vulgar, a big brother letting his barely legal sister ride him, his mouth vigorously sucking, nipping, and lavishing her nipples, his fingers in her mouth to shut her up, drool running down the corners of her mouth and right into his own at your breasts. It was disgusting. Perfect.

It wasn’t long before you were choking and sputtering around his fingers that you were going to come, snapping your hips up and down faster and faster.

“Come for me, Bunny, be a good little sister, and come for your big brother.”

His words pushed you to your limit, clenching around his pipe unbelievably tight and coming. The feeling of your wet warmth snug around him made him quickly follow, shooting his load into you.

After a few more rolls of your hips, you had both come down from your highs and Rafe had removed his digits from your mouth. The room was filled with breathless pants and quiet shuffling now and then.

Finally, Rafe spoke up, his voice silent yet it spoke volumes of what he was feeling.

“Fuck.”

[v6quewrlds]

❝ love language, j. burrow. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: joe burrow was made to be a husband. your honeymoon is proof enough that loving you is his love language.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: inspired by a couple of anon requests! another addition to the joe can't shut up when he's in love agenda. no real plot, no real substance. took me a solid month to write this so i tried to incorporate as many reqs as i could <3

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, sexual content, excessive usage of husband and wife/mr. and mrs., breeding kink, reader mentions ovulating, massage, cheesy dialogue, oral sex (fem receiving), mention of butt stuff but no actual butt stuff, backshots!!, mirror sex, praise kink if you squint.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x wife!reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 8k.

In the bustling backroom of the grand ballroom, you stood tall and radiant, your brown eyes sparkling with a blend of excitement and exhaustion. The scent of your bouquet of baby breaths filled the small space, mingling with the faint aroma of Joe's cologne. You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the wedding gown you had spent months choosing.

Joe, dressed sharply in his tuxedo, leaned against the wall with his arms folded, his blue eyes dancing with amusement as he watched you fidget with your dress. "You look like you're about to jump out of your skin," he said, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

You rolled your eyes, a laugh bubbling up from your chest. "You have no idea," you replied, your voice filled with energy. "I've been holding it together for hours, and now all I want to do is kick off these heels and dance like a lunatic."

Joe chuckled, his sarcasm giving way to affection as he stepped closer to you. He reached out and took your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gentle caress. "Well, Mrs. Burrow," he began, his voice low and teasing, "once we make our grand entrance, the dance floor is all yours."

Your eyes lit up at the sound of your new title, a grin spreading across your face. "And what will Mr. Burrow be doing?" you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Joe shrugged, his own smile growing. "Probably tripping over my own two feet. You know I'm more of a 'sway and hope nobody notices' kind of dancer."

"Not tonight, Joey." You said with a mischievous glint in your eye. "Tonight, you're dancing with me like you mean it."

Joe feigned a dramatic sigh, but the joy in his eyes was unmistakable. "Fine," he drew out the vowels, rolling his eyes playfully despite the unmistakable grin that was spreading across his face. "But only if you promise not to laugh when I get a few drinks in me."

Your laugh was music to Joe's ears, and he felt his own tension start to unwind. "Deal," you said, leaning in to kiss him lightly. The kiss was chaste, but it carried the promise of a million more to come, each one more passionate than the last.

The door to the room swung open and in barged a rush of laughter and chatter as your wedding party piled in. "Alright, Mr. & Mrs. Burrow," your wedding planner called out, her voice a mix of hurry and delight. "It's showtime!"

-

"You're up to something," Joe murmured, catching the mischievous glint in your eyes as you sauntered into the hotel room. The evening air clung to your skin, carrying the faint scent of your wedding flowers with you. He was lounging on the plush bed, scrolling through his phone, his muscular form stretched out in the white cotton pajamas that matched your own.

"Me? I'm not up to anything," you retorted, your laughter twinkling in the quiet space. The sight of you made Joe's heart stumble, the way you filled out those pajamas like they were tailored just for you—they were. He knew that look, though. The way you bit your lower lip and your hips swayed just so. You had something on your mind, and it sure as hell wasn't sleep.

Joe set his phone aside, settling deeper into the pillows. "You're smiling too hard for it to be nothing," he said, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

You prowled closer, your smile deepening with the grin that spread across your face. "Maybe I'm just happy to see my husband," you said, your voice a purr that sent a shiver down Joe's spine. "My shiny, new husband."

He knew better.

That glint in your eye was the same one you had before you tackled him into bed back home. Before he could say anything else, you straddled him, your thighs pressing into his hips, palms pressing him into the hotel bedsheets eagerly.

"Your wife is ovulating, Mr. Burrow," you whispered into his ear, your hot breath tickling his neck. Joe couldn't help but laugh, his hands instinctively reaching to grip your waist.

"And that means?" Joe replied, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through your body. Despite his amusement, there was a flicker of interest in his eyes.

"It means I want you to do something about it," you said, your voice dropping to a seductive whisper. You began to rock your hips against him, the friction making you wetter by the second. Joe's laughter died in his throat, and he stared up at you, his eyes darkening. 

"I know how much you love it when I'm like this," you cooed, your hands sliding under his shirt to trace the contours of his solid upper body.

"Is that so?" Joe said, his voice thick with amusement. He couldn't deny that there was something about you at your most aroused that made his heart skip a beat. It had become a secret little card between the two of you, one that you loved to play when you knew he was at his most susceptible.

"Mmhmm," you murmured, your teeth grazing his earlobe. "Remember that time you said I smell like heaven when I'm ovulating?"

Joe couldn't help the smirk that tugged at his lips. "I might have said something like that," he admitted, his voice a low, playful rumble.

You leaned in closer, your breath hot against his skin. "Well, heaven's calling," you said, your hips moving in a slow, deliberate circle that made Joe's eyes roll back in his head.

"You're going to be the death of me, woman," he groaned, his hands tightening around your waist as you continued her delicate torture.

Your grin grew wider, your brown eyes gleaming with mischief. "Is that a 'yes'? You’re not too tired?" you asked, your voice dripping with sweet seduction.

"It's definitely a 'yes', sweetheart. I could never be too tired for you," Joe managed, his breath hitching as your hips continued their mesmerizing dance. He pushed your pajama shorts aside, the gold wedding band glittering against his skin as his fingers moved to reveal your slick folds.

"But you better be quiet," he warned, glancing over at the walls that separated them from your parents' rooms on either side. "I don't think they need to know what we're up to over here."

“It’s our wedding night, baby. I think our parents would hope we'd be having dirty marital sex on our wedding night,” you giggled, the sound light and airy, as you leaned down to kiss him. "They want grandbabies and this is how it happens."

Your tongue slipped into his mouth, tasting like mint and a hint of the champagne you had picked out for the reception. The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, until Joe couldn't take it anymore. He flipped you onto your back, his body covering yours, his cock pressing against your heat.

"You're so wet," he murmured, his voice filled with wonder and lust.

"Told you," you said, your voice a smug whisper. You reached down to stroke him through his pants, feeling him twitch against your palm. "You always get me like this."

Joe chuckled, his blue eyes sparkling with desire. "So it’s not just the multi-million dollar fortune now in your name?" he murmured, kissing you deeply.

"We can't have you waking up the whole floor." He pulled your pajama shorts down before throwing them over his shoulder to discard them. Your laughter was muffled against his neck as he positioned himself between your legs.

He slid into you with a groan, the feeling of your tight warmth around him making him forget about the walls that were a little too thin. Your nails dug into his back as he began to move, slow at first, savoring every inch of you.

"Fuck," you breathed, your eyes squeezed shut. "You feel so good."

Joe's teeth sank into your shoulder to keep his own moans quiet. "You're so wet, baby," he murmured, his voice strained. "So, so wet."

"I can't help it," you panted, your legs wrapping around him. "You looked so good out there, all husband-y and...fuck, Joe, right there."

Joe chuckled against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he hit your sweet spot with precision. He knew exactly how to make you squirm. He loved it when you lost control, when you forgot about the world around you and just focused on the pleasure he was giving you.

"I’m so thankful you’re mine," he whispered, his hips driving into you with increasing force. The headboard hit the wall with a muffled thump that made you both giggle, despite the intensity of the moment. You wrapped your arms around Joe's neck, your nails lightly raking his scalp as you pulled him closer, silently begging for more.

Joe's breath was hot against your neck as he murmured, "You're so fucking tight."

The words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but moan a little louder. "Shh," Joe said, a hint of laughter in his voice as he pressed a finger to your lips. "These walls are so thin."

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your breath hitched when Joe reached over to grab a pillow. He slammed it over your face, muffling your laughter. "Not helping," you mumbled into the softness.

He threw the pillow aside with a laugh and slid his thumb into your mouth instead, your teeth grazing the pad as you tried to keep your noises down. It was a struggle, especially as he found his rhythm and your moans grew more insistent. The scent of your arousal filled the air, and Joe couldn't resist the urge to bury his nose in your neck, inhaling deeply. It was like a drug, making his cock throb even more.

"So good. My wife’s so tight, squeezing her husband’s cock so well, like she was fuckin' made for it," he groaned, his fingers tightening in your hair as he held you in place. Your eyes were squeezed shut, your body arching up to meet his every thrust. The quiet room was filled with the slick sounds of skin on skin, your harsh breathing, and the occasional muffled curse.

"You're so...so...oh, fuck, Joey," you managed, your words barely audible around his fingers. Your legs trembled, your body poised on the edge of release.

Joe couldn't hold back his own groans any longer. He knew he was pushing your buttons, and the way you squirmed beneath him was all the encouragement he needed. "I know, baby," he murmured, his voice a mix of affection and lust. "You're close, aren't you?"

You nodded, your eyes squeezed shut as Joe picked up the pace. You were close, so close, but he wasn't done with you yet. He pulled his thumb from your mouth and slammed into you harshly, his balls slapping against your ass. The sound was obscene, but Joe couldn't bring himself to care. All he could focus on was the feel of your tight pussy clamping down around him, your walls pulsing with each thrust.

Your eyes snapped open, and you looked up at Joe with a mix of love and pure desire. "Don't stop," you begged, your voice a breathy whisper. "Please, Joe, don't stop."

"Never," Joe promised, his voice a gruff growl. He thrust deeper, feeling your muscles tighten around him. He knew you were close, and the thought of you coming apart under him was all he needed to fall over the edge. He reached down to rub your clit in tight circles, his fingers slipping and sliding in your wetness. "I'm gonna fill this sweet pussy up. Make my wife happy like I vowed. Might even make you a mama." he murmured, his voice low and guttural.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, your breath coming in short gasps. The pressure was building, coiling in your stomach, threatening to break free. You nodded, your hips bucking up to meet his. "Please, Joe," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need it."

With a powerful thrust, Joe gave you what you craved. Your eyes snapped open, and you bit down on your lip to keep from screaming. He didn't stop, though, his strokes growing faster and more erratic.

"That's it, baby. Keep squeezing me, just like that. Gonna make you feel real good, sweetheart. Get you all nice and warm with my cum, huh?" Joe's voice was a gruff whisper in your ear as you rode the waves of pleasure. 

“Is that what you want?” His words were like gasoline on a fire, sending sparks of arousal through your body. You could feel him thicken inside you, his breaths growing harsher with each thrust. “You want me to give you a baby?”

Your eyes squeezed shut as you nodded, your hips moving in time with Joe's. The room was a whirlwind of sensations, the scent of your sex mingling with the faint ocean breeze that slipped through the open balcony doors. The sound of the waves outside seemed to echo the rhythm of your lovemaking, a steady movement building up to a crescendo.

"Oh, Joe," you breathed, your voice strained. "Fuck, yes. Yes."

Your eyes met, and Joe saw the desperation in them, the need for release that mirrored his own. He leaned down, his mouth claiming yours in a fierce kiss as he slammed into you, giving you everything he had. Your nails dug into his back, your body writhing beneath his. And then you were there, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave, your inner muscles clenching down around his cock in a spasm of pleasure. He spilled over the edge at the same time, filling you with his hot, thick spend. You both froze for a moment, the room silent except for the harsh sounds of your panting.

"Holy shit," Joe breathed, collapsing onto you with a satisfied groan. His chest heaved with each breath, his heart racing in his ears. The feel of you, warm and wet around him, was heavenly. He kissed your neck, your skin salty with a sheen of sweat.

You chuckled, the vibrations traveling through Joe's body. "You're such a romantic," you teased. "Now get off, you're 20 pounds heavier than normal."

"Nah, gotta make sure it all stays inside, you know?" Joe quipped, his voice muffled by your shoulder. He didn't move, enjoying the feeling of your body still quivering with the aftershocks of your climax. You giggled, your breath warm against his neck.

"You're ridiculous," you murmured, your voice still shaky with pleasure. Joe's laughter rumbled against your skin, his body a delicious weight that you didn't want to shift just yet. The two of you lay there, tangled in the sheets, your hearts racing in sync.

"There's no way they didn't hear something," you said, your voice a mix of exasperation and amusement. You could feel Joe's cock still twitching inside you, the evidence of his release seeping out to wet the bed between your legs.

"Your mom's been talking nonstop about a grandchild. I think she'll appreciate the knowledge that we're working on it right away," Joe replied with a lazy grin, not bothering to move. You playfully slapped his ass, making him yelp.

"Get off, you're crushing me," you giggled, pushing at Joe's shoulder. He chuckled, rolling off you and flopping onto his back. His cock slipped out with a wet sound, and you couldn't help but stare at the mess you had made. You felt a warm trickle of his cum slide out of you and trickle down your thigh.

Joe glanced over and grinned. "Looks like we've got a little cleanup on aisle five," he said, gesturing to the wet spot on the bed.

You threw a pillow at him, which he caught with ease. "You're so annoying," you said, your voice filled with affection. "If you're gonna be into this breeding kink thing, you're gonna have to help clean me up after."

Joe sat up, his chest heaving from the exertion. "Fair enough," he said, tossing the pillow back at you. "Can I lick you clean?" he offered with a waggle of his eyebrows, his voice filled with mischief.

You rolled your eyes, but the heat in your gaze betrayed your arousal. "Perv," you murmured, a smirk playing on your lips.

Joe shrugged, unabashed. "What? Is that a yes?" He leaned over to nip at your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. Despite the teasing, there was a genuine question in his voice, his breath hot against your skin.

"Not today, playboy," you said, swatting Joe's hand away as he reached for your still-sensitive folds. "But I'll keep it in mind for later."

You slithered out of bed, the dampness between your legs leaving a stain on the sheet. "For now, I'm going to take a shower before your mom starts knocking on the door wondering if we're okay."

Joe watched your retreating form with a lazy smile, his eyes lingering on your round, firm ass as you disappeared into the en suite bathroom. "Without me?" he called after you, pouting as he feigned disappointment in his voice.

When you looked at him over your shoulder, a smile pulling at your lips, he leaped out of bed. His cock was still half-hard as he chased after you, his playfulness evident in every step.

-

You stretched your limbs against the crisp, white villa sheets. You blinked your brown eyes open to the early morning sun peeking through the luxurious curtains, hinting at the promise of a new day. Next to you, Joe lay still, his chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of sleep. His dirty blonde hair was a mess, a heartwarming contrast to his usually meticulous grooming.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight of the man who was now your husband. Your first days as a married couple had been filled with passion and laughter, and you were eager to start this new chapter of your life together.

Your private plane ride had been nothing short of a dream. The thrilling rush of flying high above the clouds, sipping champagne, and even sneaking away to join the mile-high club in the spacious bathroom.

As you slipped out of bed, the soft carpet whispered a greeting beneath your bare feet. You padded over to the floor-to-ceiling window, taking in the breathtaking view of the tropical paradise that stretched out before you. The sea was a canvas of azure, blending into the horizon where the sun had just begun to paint streaks of gold and pink. It was the perfect setting for a honeymoon, and you couldn't have been more grateful for Joe's thoughtful surprise.

As you continued to gaze at the view, you felt Joe's arms snake around your waist from behind. He pulled you into his embrace, pressing a soft kiss to the nape of your neck. "Good morning, Mrs. Burrow," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep and a hint of pride. You giggled, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

"Good morning, Mr. Burrow," you replied, leaning into his touch. "I can't believe we're actually here." You twisted around in his arms, your smile widening as you met his gaze. Joe's blue eyes sparkled with love as he said, "I know what you mean. I had to pinch myself during the flight to make sure it wasn't just a dream."

"Was that before or after we christened the plane's bathroom?" You quipped, your eyes dancing with mischief. Joe chuckled, his arms tightening around you as you shared the intimate memory.

"Before," he said, his voice low and playful. "But I'm sure we can make some more memories today if you're up for it."

You decided to shower together, the warm water cascading over your bodies as you soaped each other up. The sensual act of washing each other had become a morning ritual for you, a gentle reminder of your love and devotion. As you stepped out, Joe couldn't resist smacking your ass playfully, making you yelp in surprise. You shot him a mock glare, which quickly melted into a grin as you grabbed a towel and dried off.

Dressing in your swimwear, you headed down to breakfast. The hotel had laid out a spread that could feed a small army, but you kept it simple: avocado eggs benedict for you and an omelet for him, a side of crispy bacon for you both. You sat by the pool, sipping on tropical smoothies, the gentle sound of the waves in the distance setting the mood for the day ahead. You felt your excitement build as you listened to Joe recount the plans he had made for your day.

Your midday snorkeling adventure was nothing short of magical. The crystal-clear waters revealed a vibrant underwater world of coral reefs and a rainbow of fish. You couldn't help but cling to Joe's arm in amazement as you floated above the aquatic wonderland. His constant, nerdy stream of ocean facts kept you laughing. You held hands underwater, your wedding rings glinting in the sunlight that pierced through the surface, a symbolic declaration of your commitment to each other.

-

"You're so sunburnt," you teased, your eyes sparkling with mirth as you traced your finger across Joe's pink shoulder. Your own skin, kissed by the sun, had a warm glow that contrasted with the vibrant, floral-printed sundress that clung deliciously to your curves like a second skin.

Joe groaned dramatically, his fair complexion suffering from the tropical heat more than your naturally darker skin. "You think that's funny?" he shot back, though his smile gave away his playful annoyance.

You had spent the entire day snorkeling in the crystal waters and lounging under the palm trees, and Joe in all his stubbornness had decided against sunscreen, claiming it would be nice to get a "tan" in. Needless to say, the Caribbean sun had been less than kind to his poor, Midwestern pale skin. You had been more fortunate, your skin a beautiful canvas of brown with the hint of a shimmer from your coconut-scented sunscreen.

"It's hilarious, actually," you said, leaning in to kiss his burnt nose. "Come on. We can grab some aloe from the gift shop for your poor, crispy skin."

Joe rolled his eyes, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Oh, the joys of being married to a smartass," he murmured, pulling you closer to his side. Your hand splayed across his chest, ring catching the golden sunlight as he pressed a fleeting kiss to your temple.

"You love this smart ass," you quipped back, gasping with surprise as Joe's left hand reached down to smooth over the fabric covering your ass.

"I do love this ass," Joe murmured lowly, delivering a full-handed squeeze to each of your cheeks. "No lie."

After retrieving the aloe from the gift shop, you retreated to your luxurious villa. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, casting a warm, romantic light over the plush California king-sized bed and the floor-to-ceiling windows that revealed the stunning view of the ocean. You carefully applied the cool aloe vera gel to Joe's sun-bitten skin, your gentle touch offering a sweet respite from the sting.

Joe's eyes fluttered shut as you worked your way down his back, your fingers tracing the contours of his muscles, which had been honed from countless hours in the gym and on the field. He could feel the tension of the day melting away under your touch.

"I'm sorry, baby," you hummed softly as Joe hissed when you reached a particularly tender spot. "I know it stings."

"It's okay," Joe managed through gritted teeth, his eyes still closed. "Guess I'll have to stay out of the sun tomorrow."

You chuckled, your hands continuing their soothing dance across his skin. "I can't imagine that happening. It's so beautiful out there," you said, glancing out at the horizon where the sun was dipping below the waves.

"Just means I get to stay in bed with you all day," Joe murmured, his voice thick with innuendo. He turned his head from his spot on his stomach, looking at you over his shoulder with a smoldering gaze.

Your laughter turned into a knowing smile, and you leaned in to kiss the back of his neck. "Is that a promise?" you asked, your voice dropping to a whisper that sent shivers down his spine.

Joe's gaze met yours in the reflection of the large, ornate mirror on the opposite wall. "I'm a man who takes his vows seriously," he replied, his voice low and gruff with desire. Your eyes darkened with anticipation as you set the aloe aside, replacing it with a bottle of massage oil. You climbed back onto the bed, straddling his back with the bottle balanced delicately in your hand.

"Let's see if we can make this feel a little better," you said, your tone a mix of sweetness and conspiracy. You began to work the oil into his shoulders, your soft, skilled hands kneading out the knots that had formed from a full day of swimming and sun.

Joe groaned in pleasure, his eyes still locked on yours in the mirror. "You're a miracle worker," he murmured, feeling the heat of the oil and your touch seep into his sore muscles.

You grinned, your eyes glued to his baby blues. "Just doing my wifey duties," you said, your voice dripping with sweetness. You continued to massage him, your hands moving in slow, firm circles that grew increasingly sensual as you worked your way down his back.

Joe felt his body responding to your touch, his muscles relaxing and his skin prickling with goosebumps. "Is this part of the standard honeymoon package?" he managed to ask, his voice strained.

You giggled, your hands sliding lower, dangerously close to the waistband of his swim trunks. "Oh, this is a special upgrade," you whispered, your breath hot against his ear as you leaned forward to press your chest to his back. "Just for my favorite man."

Your thumbs dipped beneath the fabric, tracing the waistline of his trunks and sending a jolt of electricity through his body. He bit his lip, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. "What else does this upgrade include?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

"Well," you began, your hands moving to the back of his trunks, "It's a full-service deal. I'll take care of every inch of you." You tugged the material down, exposing his firm, sun-neglected ass. His skin was tight and pale, practically begging for the warmth of your palms.

With a devilish smirk, you started to massage the oil into his ass, your touch feather-light at first, teasing him with the promise of more. Joe's breath hitched, his body tensing under your touch. You leaned down, your chest brushing against his back as you kissed the top of his shoulder. "Do you like that?" you whispered, your breath hot on his skin.

Joe's only response was a nod, his eyes squeezed shut in focus. You chuckled, your hands growing bolder, kneading his cheeks with a firmness that made him moan. Your fingers danced closer to his crack, and you could feel his arousal growing against your thigh.

"Just keep that finger to yourself, missy," Joe warned playfully, his voice strained with pleasure. Your disappointed groan was like music to his ears, and he felt his cock twitch against the mattress at the sound.

Your response was to give his right cheek a gentle smack, the sound echoing through the room. "One of these days, I'll get what I want," you teased, your hands leaving their spot on his ass to work at his shoulders once more. The warmth from your touch seeped into Joe's bones, and he couldn't help but let out a low moan.

"One of these days," he echoed, his voice thick with desire, "but not today." You knew he was enjoying the anticipation, the buildup of pleasure that you so skillfully crafted. You leaned in closer, your breasts pressing into his back again as you whispered a command into his ear to flip over.

With a groan, Joe obeyed, his cock standing at full attention underneath his swim trunks as he lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling fan that lazily spun above you. You took in the sight of your husband, your eyes lingering on the trail of hair that led from his navel to his groin, the faintest dusting of sun freckles across his shoulders, and the way his chest stood proud and firm. You couldn't help but feel a surge of pride knowing that this man, this powerful, successful man, was all yours.

Straddling his hips, you leaned over to kiss him, your oiled hands sliding over his chest. Your kisses grew more heated, Joe's hands coming up to grip your ass firmly, now his turn to kneed your flesh. You felt his cock throb against your inner thigh and you broke away, breathless. "Someone's eager," you teased, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

"You have no idea," Joe murmured, his voice breaking with surprise as you playfully pinched his nipples. You straightened your back as you sat up, your crotch slotted perfectly over his erection. Your manicured nails trailed down his stomach, the cool metal of your wedding ring sending goosebumps skittering across his skin. Joe's hands moved to your waist, his thumbs playing with the soft material of your dress. His blue eyes blazed with need as he took in your beauty, the way your tits strained against the fabric, the curve of your hips, the shadow between your thighs that promised heaven.

"You should wear these dresses more often," Joe said, his voice strained as you ground your hips against his. The dresses in question had been a staple to your honeymoon wardrobe, all thin straps and flowing in every color under the rainbow. You leaned back, arching your spine, giving him a better view of your body.

"You like them? Maybe I'll start wearing them to your games," you quipped, your eyes dancing with mischief. Joe's grip tightened on your waist, his mind racing with the thought of you in this dress, teasing him in front of the cameras. He could picture your figure amplified on national television as the color commentators declared you as his wife, your new last name rolling off their tongues easily.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Joe chuckled, his thumbs stroking your hips as he fought to keep his cool. "No way are you distracting my focus like that."

You giggled, your hands sliding down to grip the bulge of his dick through the fabric of his trunks. "But you'd love it," you whispered, your teeth grazing his earlobe. "Imagine every time you looked over at the sidelines and saw me sitting there, you'd know exactly what's waiting for you after the game."

Joe's eyes rolled back in his head as you squeezed him lightly, his hips bucking involuntarily. "I don't think I'd be able to play," he managed to murmur, his voice tight with need. "I'd spend the whole game thinking about tearing that dress off you. And I don't think I'd be the only one thinking that."

You laughed, your grip tightening on Joe's cock. "We wouldn't want that," you said, your voice a sweet purr. You sat up straight, your oiled hands sliding down your thighs to rest on Joe's. "But you can take it off me now."

He took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring with lust as he sat up and reached for the hem of the sundress. His eyes were trained on your exposed skin as he tugged the dress up over your head. He threw the thin fabric to the side, leaving you perched pretty on his lap. The ruched, bridal white string bikini you had been wearing underneath the dress contrasted beautifully against your shimmering skin.

"You're so beautiful," Joe murmured, his voice filled with awe. His eyes roamed over your body, taking in the fullness of your breasts, and the way your stomach dipped before flaring out into your hips. You leaned into him, your heart racing as his hands found the strings of your bikini top.

With a swift pull, the fabric gave way and your breasts spilled out, bouncing slightly with the movement. Joe's mouth watered as he reached out, cupping one in his hand, his thumb brushing over the hardened nipple. You gasped, arching into his touch. The coolness of the room washed over your bare skin, making you feel even more exposed and alive.

Joe's eyes never left yours as he leaned in to capture your nipple between his teeth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. Your breath hitched, your hands tangling in his hair as you held him to your skin. He kissed and nipped at one peak before moving on to the other, his mouth and teeth teasing you until you were squirming in his lap.

Your hips rocked against him, your pussy slick and hot through the fabric of your bikini bottoms. Joe's cock strained against the confines of his trunks, desperate for release. He reached up, his fingers undoing the strings of your bottoms, and with a firm tug, they too gave way. Your body was laid bare before him, your skin glistening with tanning oil and the light sheen of arousal.

"Your turn," you murmured, your voice thick with desire. You pushed at Joe's shoulders, urging him to lie back on the bed. He did so willingly, his cock bobbing free as you slid his trunks down his legs. Your eyes were glued to his cock, your mouth watering at the sight of his thick, veined shaft.

Without a word, Joe lay back on the bed, his cock standing proud and eager against his stomach. You took a moment to appreciate the view, your eyes drinking in every inch of him. He was perfection personified, and you felt a thrill knowing you were the one who got to claim him.

"Let me taste you, sweetheart," Joe whispered, his voice husky with need as he maneuvered your back to fall against the crisp, white sheets. Your eyes widened in surprise but you didn't resist, your legs falling open to give him access to your slick folds. He kissed and nibbled at your inner thighs, his tongue tracing the path to your core as you squirmed with anticipation. His hands ran up the sides of your thighs, gently caressing the skin before moving them to rest on his shoulders, giving him the perfect angle to dive in.

Your breath caught in your throat as his tongue parted you, tasting your sweetness. You could feel his breath hot against your pussy, sending shivers down your spine. Joe took his time, savoring your flavor, exploring every inch of you with a hunger that made your toes curl. Your grip on the sheets tightened as Joe's tongue swirled around your clit and flattened against your folds, the pressure building until you could hardly stand it.

He knew exactly how to drive you wild. With each flick of his tongue, you felt yourself inch closer to the precipice of ecstasy. "Joe," you breathed weakly, your voice trembling with desire. "I'm gonna come."

He chuckled against you, the vibration sending a fresh wave of pleasure through your core. "That's the plan, babe," he murmured, his voice muffled by the wetness of your pussy. He picked up the pace, his tongue dancing and flicking in a way that made your hips buck and your breath hitch. You threw your head back, short, strangled breaths leaving your mouth as your eyes squeezed shut, Joe's mouth worked you into a frenzy.

The room filled with the sound of your moans and the wet, sloppy noises of Joe's enthusiastic indulgence mixing in with your glistening arousal. He was relentless, his tongue probing and lapping until you were sure you couldn't take anymore. You felt your orgasm building, a coil of tension in your belly that grew tighter and tighter with each pass of his tongue.

"Oh god, Joe," you panted, your hips rising to meet his mouth. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, grinding your pussy against his face. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he feasted on your sweetness. You could feel the pressure building, the heat coiling in your core, ready to explode.

And then it did. With a moan that echoed through the villa, your body convulsed as waves of pleasure washed over you. Your muscles tightened around Joe's tongue, your juices flooding his mouth as you came harder than you ever had before. Joe groaned in satisfaction, his own arousal reaching new heights as he drank you in. He didn't stop until you were trembling and panting, your body a puddle of boneless bliss beneath him.

Your eyes slowly opened, and you looked down at Joe, your face warm and your chest heaving. "Damn, baby," you breathed, a lazy smile playing on your lips. "I knew you were a munch but that was… wow."

Joe looked up at you with a grin, his face shiny with her arousal. "I was face first in my wife's pussy, couldn't help it," he said, his voice filled with a cocky confidence that made your heart race even faster. He kissed his way back up your body, leaving a trail of heat and wetness in his wake. When he reached your mouth, you tasted yourself on his lips, a heady mix of salt and sweet that only heightened your desire.

Your kiss grew more intense, your tongues dancing together in a rhythm that mirrored the pulsing need between your legs. Joe reached up, cupping your breasts in his hands, his thumbs playing with your still-sensitive nipples. You moaned into his mouth, your hips lifting to meet his.

"Face the mirror, gonna take you from the back," Joe murmured against your neck, his breath hot and ragged. You eagerly complied, turning to face the mirror and scooting closer to the edge of the bed. Your heart thundered in your chest as you watched Joe's reflection, his muscles rippling as he moved behind you.

He slid his hand down your spine, sending shivers through your body, and gripped your waist, pulling you closer to his body. You felt the tip of his cock at your entrance, and you couldn't help but whimper with anticipation. The position was rare for you two, usually reserved for moments when Joe was feeling particularly possessive. Your eyes locked onto his in the mirror, and you watched as he lined himself up, his hand guiding his shaft to your awaiting heat.

With one smooth, powerful thrust, he filled you, making you moan out with a mix of pleasure and surprise. The angle was new, and it hit you in just the right way, making your pussy clench around him. Joe groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as he took in the sight of his cock disappearing into your wetness. Your body was a work of art, and he couldn't get enough of watching you react to his touch.

He began to move, his hips sliding in and out of you with a rhythm that grew more intense with each stroke. Your breasts bounced with the motion, your hands straining to grip the sheets as you watched Joe's reflection in the mirror. His eyes were hooded with desire, his teeth bared in a feral grimace as he claimed your body.

Your walls stretched around him, your body adjusting to the new sensation of being taken from behind. Your breaths grew shorter, your moans growing louder with each thrust. Joe's grip on your waist tightened, his strokes deep and demanding as he watched you in the mirror. The sight of your face contorted in pleasure, your dark hair splayed across the pillows, and your body writhing under his, only spurred him on.

"You like that?" he growled, his voice low and possessive. You could only nod, your mouth forming silent words as you struggled to keep up with the overwhelming sensations. Joe's hand reached around to find your clit, his thumb pressing down in a steady, insistent rhythm that matched his thrusts.

"Yes, Joey, I fucking love it," you gasped, your eyes watching him move in the mirror. Your voice was a mix of desperation and pleasure, the words barely recognizable through your moans. His thumb circled your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to send sparks of sensation through your body.

"I'm so lucky to have you," Joe murmured, your eyes glazed with pleasure as Joe's cock filled you completely. His hand slid down to cup your ass, his fingers digging in as he pulled you back into each thrust. The angle was exquisite, hitting all the right spots, and you knew this was going to be one of those moments that would be forever etched into your mind.

"You're everything I've ever wanted," you managed to pant, your body jolting with each impact of his hips slamming into you. Your inner walls quivered around him, your pussy greedily sucking him in deeper.

"I promise I'll spend every day of the rest of our lives making you feel like this," Joe groaned, his words punctuated by his relentless pounding. You could feel the tension coiling tighter within you, the promise of another earth-shattering orgasm just out of reach.

Your eyes remained locked with his in the mirror, the connection between you two more intense than ever. Your breathing grew ragged, your moans echoing off the walls as Joe picked up his pace. Each thrust was deeper, harder, more demanding, and you could feel yourself climbing toward the peak.

Suddenly, Joe leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back as one arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly against him. The other arm fell forward, caging your body in as his hand settled over yours, fingers intertwined, rings nudging against each other. Your chest collapsed, your nipples tightening as you grazed the coolness of the mattress. He whispered sweet, dirty nothings into your ear, his breath hot and ragged, sending shivers down your spine.

"I want to see you come, baby," Joe panted, his thrusts growing more erratic. "Go ahead, baby. Let go for me."

You felt your orgasm building, the pressure in your core growing stronger with each word. Your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to hold back the inevitable. But Joe's touch was too much. He knew just what you needed, and as his thumb circled your clit faster and his cock pounded into you harder, you couldn't resist anymore.

Your body tightened around him, your muscles clenching as you came, your walls pulsing with pleasure. You whimpered his name weakly, your body bucking wildly under his. Joe's eyes watched as you lost control, feeling your pussy grip him as you spilled over the edge. His own orgasm followed close behind, his cum spurting into you with a force that made you both groan.

Your bodies remained connected for a moment, both panting heavily, the sound of your mingled breaths the only noise in the quiet room. You felt Joe's cock soften inside you, and you leaned back into his chest, your body still trembling from the intensity of your lovemaking.

"I don't know if I can move," you murmured, your voice shaky with the aftermath of pleasure. Joe chuckled, kissing your shoulder before gently withdrawing and rolling over to your side. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around your waist as you both stared at your reflections in the mirror.

"I love you so much, you know that?" Joe murmured into your ear, his breath still coming in pants as he held you close. Your head rested on his chest, your breathing finally starting to even out. You nodded, a content smile playing on your lips.

"I would hope so, you married me last week. You better love me," you replied, your voice teasing but filled with affection as you cuddled closer to Joe, your hand resting on his chest. You could feel the steady thump of his heart, a reminder of the passion you just shared.

The two of you lay there for a few moments, the sweat cooling on your bodies as the tropical breeze gently caressed your skin. You turned your head, your eyes meeting Joe's in the mirror. His gaze was warm, a soft smile playing on his lips as he stroked your hair.

"I think that's only the second time we've had sex in this bed," Joe said, his voice a low rumble against your ear.

You chuckled, your eyes fluttering shut as you nestled into his warmth. "It's not my fault you can't keep it in your pants long enough to make it to the bed, Burrow," you teased, feeling the warmth of his skin against your cheek.

"What's the point of a villa on a quiet island if we're not going to use every surface?" Joe replied with a smirk, his fingers tracing lazy circles into the skin of your lower back. You laughed, the sound vibrating against his chest as you rolled over to face him fully. His cock twitched helplessly as he watched you, the sight of your sated smile and glowing skin making him want you all over again.

But he knew you needed a break. And so, you lay together, your bodies entwined in a mess of limbs and damp sheets. Your hand found its way to his chest, playing with the light dusting of hair that trailed down to his stomach. You traced the path with your fingertip, watching his abs contract with each breath he took.

"What do you think your love language is?" you asked, your voice lazy and content. You traced the contours of Joe's chest with your finger, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your touch.

Joe smiled, his hand moving downward to squeeze your ass playfully. "I'd say my love language is definitely making you happy, especially when it involves me fucking you just the way you like it," he said, his voice filled with pride. You snorted, swatting his chest lightly. "Okay, in all seriousness, I think it's quality time. Nothing makes me happier than being close to you."

Your expression softened, your eyes shining with affection. "Mine's definitely words of affirmation," you murmured, your hand sliding up to caress his cheek. "I love it when you tell me how much you love me, how beautiful I am, how you chose me."

Joe leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'll never run out of ways to tell you that," he promised, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "I guess I like that too. Hearing that I'm doing right by you. That you're happy. That I'm enough."

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his vulnerable admission. "You are," you said, your voice firm. "More than enough. And I'll never get tired of telling you that." You leaned in to kiss him softly, the sweetness of the moment lingering between the two of you as your bodies settled.

"You wanna know something cool?" Joe hummed, pulling away from the kiss with a playful grin. You hummed in question, your eyes beginning to hood from the sleepiness that was slowly creeping in. "I'm your husband," he whispered, his voice filled with wonder and a hint of disbelief.

"I'm aware," you said with a roll of your eyes, though the smile on your face gave away the joy you felt at the reminder. "But you know what's even cooler than that?"

"What's cooler than being your husband?" Joe asked, his grin widening as he propped himself up on an elbow. His eyes searched yours, eager to hear your response.

"Cooler than that?" you teased, your voice playful. "I'm your wife. That's pretty cool."

Joe chuckled, his hand sliding up to squeeze your hand. "I guess it's a tie then," he conceded. Your smile grew as you watched the love dance in Joe's eyes, feeling it deep in your soul. You were married, and it was still so surreal. The last week had been a whirlwind of emotions, but this moment right here, with Joe's arms around you and the sound of your mingled breaths, was pure bliss.

The room was quiet except for the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore. Your eyes grew heavy, the exhaustion of the day catching up to you. You snuggled impossibly closer to Joe, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. He was your home, your sanctuary, and you never wanted to leave this tropical paradise.

[leona-hawthorne]

LEONA-HAWTHORNE’S FICMAS

december 15th. mattheo riddle — slow down!

mattheo riddle x fem reader

summary ; mattheo’s got a little crush on you, but you keep running away every time he tries talking to you! words ; 3.9k warnings ; smut, unprotected p in v, fingering, creampie, spanking, mentions of blood

navigation ficmas masterlist

The corridor was unnervingly quiet, save for the occasional shuffle of parchment or the faint scrape of shoes against stone. You hugged your books tightly to your chest, trying to make yourself invisible as you hurried toward the sanctuary of the library. The cold December air seeping through the ancient castle walls bit at your skin, but it wasn’t nearly as alarming as the warmth you suddenly felt—someone approaching from behind.

“Hi.”

His voice slid into your awareness before you even heard the sound of his footsteps, sending your heart skittering like a startled bird. Turning your head slightly, you caught sight of him—dark curls falling into his eyes, his signature Slytherin tie loosened at his throat, and that grin. The grin that made your chest feel too tight and your thoughts scatter like spilled ink.

Your first instinct, as always, was to flee.

Before he could say more, you ducked your head and pivoted on your heel, muttering something about being late to the library. 

“Oh, no, you don’t.” His hand was warm and firm around your wrist, stopping you mid-flight. He turned you gently to face him, his dark eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your cheeks burn. “Would you please stop running away from me? It’s worrying me, you know. The way you look like you’ve seen a ghost every time I’m around.”

You didn’t dare meet his eyes. Not yet. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the traitorous flush that gave away just how much he affected you. “I’m not running,” you mumbled, though the evidence was damning.

“Oh, come on.” He laughed, soft and incredulous. “You bolt every time I so much as look at you. Do you have any idea how hard it is to catch up with you? You’re like—like a mouse slipping through cracks.”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out at first. He tilted his head, the faintest frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t bite, you know. Not unless you ask.” 

His teasing tone made your stomach flip. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, dropping your gaze to the floor.

“Don’t be,” he said softly, his grip on your wrist loosening but not letting go entirely. “I just—look, you know I’m not going to hurt you, right?”

“I-I know,” you stammered, and it was true. He wasn’t threatening to you, not even close. But that didn’t make the rapid thudding of your heart any less overwhelming. 

His brow furrowed slightly. “Then what is it?” His voice dropped, quieter now, as if he was trying not to spook you. “Am I too much? Too… loud? Intense? I can tone it down if that’s what you need.”

The earnestness in his voice nearly unraveled you. You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault—that it was you, and your inability to handle the way he seemed to draw everyone’s attention with effortless charm. The way he smiled like he knew every secret in the world. The way his presence made you feel like you were standing too close to the sun.

“I—” You bit your lip, scrambling for an excuse, any excuse, but your brain seemed to be short-circuiting under his gaze. “I’m just...not used to people like you.”

“People like me?” His eyebrows lifted, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a half-smile. “What does that mean?”

“You know.” You waved your free hand vaguely, avoiding his eyes again. “Confident. Charming.”

“Ah.” He let out a low chuckle, the sound warm and rich, wrapping around you like a blanket. “So, what? You’re allergic to confidence?”

“No! I just—” You huffed, flustered, and Mattheo’s grin widened.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?” he said, and your stomach flipped violently.

“I am not,” you mumbled, heat rising to your cheeks.

“You are,” he insisted, his tone teasing but gentle. “And I’m not saying that to make you run away again, by the way. I’d really prefer it if you didn’t.”

You glanced up at him then, your heart doing somersaults at the soft, hopeful look in his eyes. And for a moment, you thought maybe you could do this—stay, talk to him, let yourself believe that someone like Mattheo Riddle could actually like someone like you.

But instead, you mumbled something incoherent and, in a sudden burst of courage—or cowardice—twisted out of his grasp and darted down the hallway.

“Wait—! Oh, come on! Slow down!” His exasperated laugh echoed behind you, followed by his voice, playful but resigned. “You’re killing me, you know that?”

Oh, but you weren’t getting away that easily.  

Because by some twist of fate—or Mattheo’s uncanny ability to be everywhere you didn’t want him to be—you found yourself crossing paths with him again that very afternoon. And this time, there was no escaping.  

The hospital wing was quiet, the kind of quiet that wrapped itself around you like a blanket, broken only by the soft clink of glass vials as you worked. You were perched at Madame Pomfrey’s desk, carefully restocking rows of remedies, when the heavy wooden door creaked open.  

You didn’t look up at first, assuming it was Madame Pomfrey returning from her rounds. But then you heard the familiar drawl.  

“Madame Pomfrey, I—oh.”  

Your hand froze mid-reach for a jar of bruise balm. Your stomach plummeted. You knew that voice.  

You froze, your hand stilling mid-reach for a jar of essence of murtlap. Slowly, as though moving too quickly might summon some greater disaster, you turned your head toward the door.

There he was.

Mattheo Riddle, leaning casually against the doorframe, one arm tucked against his side, the other pressed lightly to his jaw where a streak of blood stood out against his pale skin. His shirt was untucked, his tie gone, and his dark curls were just messy enough to make him look infuriatingly perfect.  

Your heart started to pound, the air in your lungs thinning to a whisper. “You,” you said before you could stop yourself, the word barely louder than a squeak.  

Mattheo grinned, even as he winced slightly, straightening from the doorframe. “Me,” he echoed.

You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the desk as if it might keep you grounded. “What... what happened?”  

“I fell,” he said simply, though the smirk on his lips made it impossible to believe him.

“You fell,” you repeated flatly, crossing your arms.

He nodded solemnly, though there was nothing solemn about the way his eyes flicked over you, taking in the rolled-up sleeves of your uniform and the faint smudge of ink on your wrist from earlier. “Tragic, I know. But lucky me—I’ve landed in the most capable hands.”

Your cheeks burned, and you immediately dropped your gaze, fussing with the nearest jar of ointment to avoid his eyes. “Madame Pomfrey isn’t here,” you mumbled. “I’m just helping... for now.”  

“Oh, I don’t mind,” he said, moving toward one of the hospital beds. “I think I like the idea of you taking care of me.”  

Your fingers fumbled, nearly knocking over a bottle of murtlap essence. “Sit,” you said quickly, pointing to the bed without looking at him. “You need to sit so I can... um... look at that.”  

He chuckled softly but complied, settling onto the edge of the bed. “As you wish.”  

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you grabbed a cloth and some antiseptic. But when you turned back, he wasn’t sitting anymore. He was standing again, closer now—too close, that lazy grin still firmly in place.

Your breath caught. “You—what are you doing?”  

“Stretching my legs,” he said easily, his voice low and warm.  

“You’re supposed to be resting,” you said, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to sound firm. “You’re injured—”  

“It’s nothing,” he said, his grin widening as he leaned against the desk, his dark eyes fixed on you. “I’m not that fragile, you know.”  

“But—”  

“Do I make you nervous?” he interrupted, tilting his head slightly, his curls falling into his eyes.  

You immediately shook your head, even though you could feel the heat crawling up your neck. “N-no. I mean—why would you think that?”  

“Because you’re practically shaking,” he said, his tone softer now, though no less teasing. “And because you keep looking anywhere but at me.”  

Your eyes flicked up to his for a fraction of a second before dropping back down to the floor. “I’m not... I mean, I just—”  

“You’re adorable,” he said, and the warmth in his voice made your pulse race.  

You froze, your fingers tightening on the cloth in your hands. “I should clean your cut,” you mumbled, stepping back toward him.  

But before you could reach him, he moved again, his hands finding the edge of the table on either side of you, caging you in.  

“Mattheo—”  

“I’m not going anywhere this time,” he said softly, his voice barely more than a murmur. His dark eyes held yours, the intensity in them stealing the words right out of your throat. “So stop running.”  

His face was so close now, the warmth of his breath ghosting across your cheek, making your skin tingle. You could see the individual lashes framing those mesmerizing eyes, the slight curve of his lips, the way his teeth nipped gently at his lower lip...

"Come on," you muttered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. You lifted the antiseptic in your hand. "Just... please let me help you."

It sounded weak, pathetic even, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

For a long moment, he simply looked at you, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he stepped back, giving you space to breathe again.

"You're right," he said, his voice a little rougher than usual. "Thank you."

He sat back down on the bed, his posture a bit less casual now, more tense. He looked up at you through his lashes, his gaze softer than before.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you. I just..." He paused, seeming to struggle for the right words. "I like you, Y/N. A lot. And sometimes I forget myself around you."

You blinked rapidly, processing his words. "You... really?" you asked softly, hardly daring to believe it. Slowly, hesitantly, you took a step closer, drawn to him despite your nerves.

"Yes, really," he confirmed, his voice low and sincere. As you drew near, he reached out, his large hands coming to rest on your hips. In one smooth motion, he pulled you down onto his lap, his strong arms wrapping around your waist to steady you.

You gasped, your hands flying up to press against his chest. You could feel the firm muscles beneath his shirt, the rapid thud of his heartbeat. Your own heart raced in response, your cheeks flaming with heat.

He smiled softly, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your hip bones as he held you close. "There," he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Isn't this better?"

You squirmed slightly in his lap, hyper-aware of every point where your bodies touched. "I... I don't know if this is a good idea," you whispered, even as your traitorous body melted into his embrace. Your hands slid up his chest to loop around his neck, fingers tangling in the soft curls at his nape.

He chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating through you. "Why not? We're alone, aren't we?" His hands slid up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts through your blouse. "No one has to know..."

He leaned in, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat. "Let me take care of you," he breathed against your skin, his other hand sliding down to palm your ass. "I promise I'll make it feel good."

You whimpered softly as his lips and tongue worked magic on your sensitive skin, your head lolling back to give him better access. But as he kissed lower, you suddenly felt something wet and sticky on your throat–his cut.

"Wait," you gasped, pulling back slightly. You brought a hand up to your neck, your fingers coming away streaked with blood. "You're still bleeding, Mattheo. We should clean that first before... before anything else happens."

He paused, looking up at you with lust-darkened eyes. A slow, amused grin spread across his face. "You think I give a fuck about that right now?" he muttered, pulling you flush against him again. "Don't worry about that."

His hand fisted in your hair, tugging your head back as he attacked your throat with renewed fervor, licking and sucking at the bloodied skin. 

"M-Mattheo," you whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders. "We shouldn't... not here..."

Even as you protested weakly, your hips started to move of their own accord, grinding down against the growing hardness you could feel pressing against your thighs. The friction sent sparks of pleasure shooting through you, making your head spin.

He groaned into your neck, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and into yours. His hands tightened on your hips, encouraging your movements as he rocked up against you.

"Oh, fuck. You're not as innocent as you pretend to be, huh?" he noted, his voice rough with desire.

In one fluid motion, he lifted you off his lap, rising from the bed as you stumbled back. His hands roamed possessively, sliding from your waist to the curve of your lower back before trailing up to cup the soft swell of your tits. His touch was rough and insistent, squeezing and kneading as if he couldn't get enough of you. 

Before you could catch your breath, he turned you around, his firm grip guiding you into place. His hand pressed against the small of your back, a silent command that sent heat pooling in your belly as you bent forward, your chest and palms flattening against the bed.

You felt the air shift around you, cool and heady against your heated skin, as Mattheo's fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt. He dragged it up slowly, deliberately, his movements measured, as though savoring every inch of you revealed to him.  

"Running from me, again and again," he muttered, his voice dark and edged with amusement. "And now look at you. Right where I’ve always wanted you."  

Your breath caught, shame and desire tangling in your chest. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond—not when his hands curled under the waistband of your panties, dragging them down the curve of your thighs in one slow, tantalizing motion.  

"Mattheo," you whispered, your voice trembling, barely audible above the pounding of your own heart.  

His low laugh sent shivers through you. "Finally saying my name. Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear that? And not just in your shy little apologies."  

Your knees nearly buckled as his fingers teased the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, tracing lazy circles closer and closer to where you ached for him. He let the silence hang, heavy and charged, before looping his arm around your front. 

"Cute,” he murmured. "You’ve spent weeks avoiding me, playing coy. But I think you’ve wanted this just as much as I have. Haven’t you?"  

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t think—only gasp as his fingers found your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that sent sparks skittering up your spine.  

"Answer me," he demanded, his tone soft but unyielding. "I want to hear you say it."  

Your nails dug into the bedspread, and you shook your head, overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch. "I-I don’t…"  

"Don’t what?" His fingers curled around the back of your neck, squeezing lightly. "Don’t want me? Don’t need this? Say it, sweetheart, because your body’s telling me a very different story."  

You whimpered, the heat pooling between your thighs making it impossible to deny him—or yourself. "I…I want you," you finally choked out, your voice so quiet you weren’t sure he’d heard.  

But he did.  

"Good girl," he praised, the words dripping with satisfaction. His movements quickened, drawing tight, delicious circles that had your legs trembling. "See? That wasn’t so hard, was it? All you had to do was stop running."  

A soft gasp escaped your lips as his hand slid down from your neck, tracing the curve of your hip before gripping your ass firmly. His other hand left your front, joining its twin to knead and grope the plush flesh, his thumbs digging in with a possessive hunger that made heat bloom low in your belly again.  

“You’re perfect here,” he mused, his voice a deep hum as he spread your cheeks apart, his touch maddeningly deliberate. “Bent over for me like this. Made for me, aren’t you?”  

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the whimper that threatened to escape, but Mattheo didn’t miss it. He laughed softly, the sound dripping with smug satisfaction.  

“Don’t hold back now,” he coaxed, his hands trailing up and down the back of your thighs, lingering just long enough to tease but not satisfy. “I want to hear every little sound you make for me.”  

You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could form a word, his palm landed on your ass with a sharp smack—not hard enough to hurt too much, but enough to send a jolt of heat straight through you.  

“Mattheo!”  

“There it is,” he purred, his hands smoothing over the spot he’d just struck, his touch soothing and warm. “You sound so fucking sweet when you say my name like that.”  

Before you could respond, you felt the hard press of his length against you, separated only by the fabric of his trousers. He rolled his hips, letting you feel the full weight of him, and your knees buckled slightly at the realization of just how much he wanted you.  

“You feel that?” he murmured, his lips brushing the back of your neck as he reached down to unbuckle his belt. The soft clink of metal was almost drowned out by the pounding of your heart. “That’s what you do to me. Every time you run, every time you look at me with those shy little glances—you drive me fucking insane.”  

The ruffling of fabric being lowered was too hard to ignore, and you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing back over your shoulder. The sight of him—breathing heavily, his cock thick and hard, standing proudly against the taut muscles of his stomach—sent a wave of heat washing over you.  

“Eyes front,” he ordered, his voice rough with arousal. When you didn’t obey fast enough, his hand came down on your ass again, the sharp sting making you gasp. “Now.”  

You did as he said, pressing your forehead into the bedspread as his hands roamed over you again, his touch both reverent and demanding. One hand slipped between your thighs, spreading you open, while the other gripped your hip, holding you steady.  

“God, you’re so wet for me,” he groaned, his fingers sliding through your slick folds. He teased your entrance with the tip of one finger before pushing inside, curling it just enough to make you arch back against him.  

“You like that?” he asked, his voice laced with a dark kind of affection as he added another finger, stretching you slowly. “I can feel how tight you are. So perfect. So ready for me.”  

Your answer was a broken moan, your body moving instinctively against his hand.  

“Shit,” he breathed, pulling his fingers out only to replace them with the blunt head of his cock, teasing your entrance with maddening slowness. “You’re gonna ruin me, you know that?”  

The stretch of him entering you was almost too much, but the way he worked you—inch by agonizing inch, his hands gripping your hips to keep you still—sent a wave of pleasure through you that made your toes curl.  

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice a husky growl as he bottomed out, filling you completely. He stayed there for a moment, his breathing ragged, his hands running over the curve of your back and the swell of your ass. “You feel so fucking good, baby. So tight, so perfect. Tell me how it feels.”  

“Good,” you managed, your voice barely more than a whisper. “So good.”  

“Yeah?” He pulled back slowly, leaving only the tip of his cock inside you before snapping his hips forward again with a deep thrust, filling you completely. You gasped, your body jerking forward at the force, but he didn’t give you a moment to adjust. He set a slow, measured pace, his thrusts deep but deliberate, pulling out and pushing back into you with an almost agonizing slowness that made your heart race. “You like it when I fill you up like this? When I make you mine?”  

Your only response was a strangled moan, your fingers clutching the sheets as he sped up his rhythm, each thrust driving you closer to the edge.  

His hand left your hip, sliding down to your front to brush your clit with just the right amount of pressure. "God, you’re perfect," he muttered, his voice rough as he continued to slide in and out of you, each stroke a slow burn. "I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone like I want you right now."

The pressure inside you was building, slow and steady, like the tightening of a coil. You could feel every inch of him, each thrust dragging out the pleasure until it was almost unbearable. You clenched around him, urging him deeper, and he groaned in response, his grip tightening on your hips as he pushed you harder into the bed.

“You’re fucking incredible,” he breathed, his voice rough and full of need. His thrusts picked up, faster now, more urgent, but still controlled, as if he wanted to drag this out as long as possible. “You feel so fucking good, so warm and tight around me. Don’t hold back. I want to hear you.”

Your hands gripped the sheets, nails digging into the fabric as the pleasure mounted. He hit that sweet spot inside you with every thrust, driving you mad with the sensation, and you couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped your lips.

“Please…” you gasped, not sure if you were begging for more or for him to take you faster. It didn’t matter. You just needed him. 

Mattheo smirked, his fingers still pressing against your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "You want it faster? You want me to make you come on my cock?"  

You nodded, desperate for more. “Yes, please…”

“That’s what I thought,” he rasped, his thrusts quickening as he slammed into you with abandon. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with the low groans escaping both of you.  

With one final, devastating thrust, you shattered, your release crashing over you like a tidal wave. Mattheo wasn’t far behind, his rhythm growing erratic as he buried himself deep inside you, groaning your name as he followed you over the edge.  

For a moment, the world was nothing but the sound of your ragged breaths and the heat of his body against yours. Then, slowly, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.  

“You’re not running from me again,” he murmured, his voice a quiet promise. “Not now. Not ever.” 

​​ficmas taglist: @winnie1emon @ur-local-wizard @satosugu4-ever @ankoluvs @superstargirll @slytherin-princess-x @abeoavita @mattheoriddle101 @georgiastars13 @smoooore @mattheoriddles-sluttt @2dloveshp @mattysprincess @catching-fire-in-the-wind @revesephemeres @esmerai-artemis @clar2aa @iamaconfusedpan

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