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see-arcane · 20 hours ago

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You know the one good thing about being a pessimist?

It feels great to be proven wrong.

Bravo, Bobby Egg.

I was so happily surprised by this. This film went through a fantastic puberty between the leaked script and the screen. The main points to note:

-No, Ellen is not hot for Count Orlok. She and Thomas are 110% in love. There are even certain Harker-flavored quotes thrown in to prove as much. (Details under the cut.)

-Count Orlok is a terrifying bastard and a half. Significantly more imposing than classic Orlok’s spindly rigor mortis-stiff figure and only wearing a sliver of Dracula’s performative charm. He is a Devil-Death archetype playing a monster who operates in deceit and contracts to wring out what he wants. That and a lot of corpses.

-This film is so beautiful. No gothic touch is skipped.

In sum, I more than like this film. I love it. It isn’t perfect, because no film can be, but damn. I am so proud of this nightmare you made, Bobby Egg.

SPOILERS FOR Nosferatu (2024) BELOW

-Getting some cons out of the way. There are points where a few of the actors lean maybe a bit too heavy on the ham-and-cheese in their deliveries (I’ll not blame the kids, they’re very young, but yeesh. That’s some cartoon acting.)

Yes, the g-slur is still used; though while I wish it hadn’t appeared in Eggers’ script at all, it does make sense within the context of the setting, i.e. Thomas and the Innkeeper probably only having the one word they know, same as in Dracula. And yes, naked teenage girl-on-a-horse does happen for the vampire hunt scene. Whee.

-Now, an early pro: Eggers nixed the ‘hot teen girl tries to pickpocket Thomas’ bit, and the ‘land of phantoms and thieves’ line never happens. All that happens after Thomas wakes in the inn—post witnessing the vampire slaying in the local graveyard, mud on his shoes to prove it was real—is he discovers himself utterly alone. No people, no horse. Cue the long walk.

-Ellen doing the ‘Come to me,’ bit early on is her in adolescence. It’s revealed that her Weird Girl elements have been turned up to 11, tragic lonely past included (replete with dad threatening to send her to a madhouse), and her prayer was just for company. The psychic ping was picked up by Orlok, who took advantage, turning an isolated and desperate barely-more-than-a-kid’s wish into a ‘covenant.’

-Thomas was met not long after this, cue them being genuinely in love <3

-Knock Does Not Jerk Off On Screen. If he does, his back is to us, and Little Knock is covered with some occult tablet or suchlike while he’s doing his ritual business. Also he kills a guy in his cell. Using his teeth.

-Castle time! Thomas is greeted by a driverless carriage at a crossroads and seems to be hypnotized into stepping in. A lot of things Thomas does once in Orlok’s territory seem to very clearly have psychic puppet strings attached. That and some increasing terror on Thomas’ part. There is no warm Dracula-style welcome from Orlok when he arrives, but a terse and strange leading to the dinner table where paperwork is demanded.

- We get a glimpse of this version of the Count’s ego. Thomas calls him sir. Orlok demands Thomas address him as my lord. And then we get the bread cutting scene. Thomas’ thumb bleeds. Orlok get far too interested. His voice, a very guttural and rasping bass, turns into something closer to an animal trilling and growling. Thomas is paralyzed beside the fire; cut away as Orlok closes in.

-Ellen and Anna Harding have a bit of a Mina and Lucy deal going on at the beach. It’s sweet <3 (Prepare for pain </3)

- Orlok starts getting tricky. He 1) borrows (steals) Ellen’s locket from Thomas and 2) Tricks Thomas into signing a contract to ‘sell’ Ellen/break their marriage via a strange contract in a language Thomas can’t read, with Orlok using the prop of some gold to imply that this is merely a document in ~his native language~ to complete the property sale. Thomas signs, less for the gold than to be gone from the castle and back to Ellen…only for Orlok to insist Thomas is not well. He must stay the night.

- No mind games here. Just Thomas pleading to leave and Orlok’s parting word being that he will stay, and that he will obey his orders.

-Orlok has already chomped Thomas on the tiddy as of last night. Next night, after Thomas almost lands a blow on him in the coffin—Orlok sleeps with his Orcock out in the box, by the way, alongside several rats—Orlok wills Thomas to unlock the door he shut between them. Cue Thomas being tranced onto the bed, pounced on, and basically dry-humped by Orlok as he drinks Thomas all but dry. Thomas is left that way, only to be woken by Orlok’s wolves—he has those too!—and go clambering out the window, dropping to the river below.

-Orlok makes Ellen’s life hell. Holy fuck. The 1838 quality ‘medicine’ definitely doesn’t help—corsets for correcting posture, draining blood because there’s too much in there, binding to the bedposts to stop sleepwalking, general drugging etc etc—but FUCK. Lily-Rose Depp did a great and terrible job of reproducing shaking fits and some of the faces and sounds she made had me thinking I might choke on my own tongue. And for all the sexually provocative poses/noises that happen, every time she comes out of it it’s clear that she hates this. It’s on par with psychic rape.

-The only times we see Ellen respond positively~ to Orlok’s dream-advances is when she’s telling Thomas about the ‘marrying Death’ dream where everyone died and she was deliriously happy and then the infamous trailer line about Thomas not being able to satisfy her as Orlok can~~~

Well guess what.

Guess fucking what.

That was Orlok leaning on her brain. The same way he did to Thomas when, eventually, after the nuns rescue him and pray the plague/vampirism out and he makes it home while half-dead, he lays in bed with Ellen and gets a panic attack combined with Orlok’s image being grafted over Ellen’s face…

…a reverse of the illusion Orlok gave him in the castle, with Thomas imagining it was Ellen on top of him instead. The effect terrifies Thomas all over again and he unwittingly tosses Ellen away, I can't breathe, get off of me, get off!

-Orlok does his murder snacking. Knock, who escaped, offers to find and kill Thomas to please the Count, literally on his hands and knees. Orlok calls him a dog and backhands him, insisting Ellen must be given, not stolen.

-Orlok has already visited Ellen by this time. He presses her to keep her deal with him. She tells him, flat out, I abhor you. In response, Orlok grabs her and chucks her like a ragdoll in a rage. He fumes, telling her he will give her three nights to pledge herself to him, and in the meantime he will start killing. (RIP to Anna and her little girls, the latter of whom ORLOK KILLS IN FRONT OF HER, EATING THEIR THROATS OUT AS SHE ENTERS THEIR ROOM.)

-Before all that, he spins bullshit about Thomas ~selling her to him for mere gold~. A technical truth that Ellen, mid-Orlok spell, spits back at Thomas amid a rage, along with details that are likewise based in only a granule of reality; but which Orlok did not mention in their scene together. Things like Thomas being weak and childish, that he ‘fell into Orlok’s arms like a fainting woman.’ Interesting choice of spin there, Orlok. But whatever.

This all culminates in what is either reality or a dream or a blend of both as Thomas makes sudden desperate love to her, Ellen weirdly heady about it, telling him yes yes yes they will show Orlok their love. Cue her snapping back to full cognizance (awake? dreaming?) as her eyes and mouth spurt blood in a vision. She collapses in fear and tears as Thomas holds her. AND THEN:

-Ellen. Drops. The I am unclean line. She wants Thomas away from her, she is not worthy, she puts him in danger.

-Thomas goes full Jonathan and clings to her. Nonsense. I love you. I love you. I love you.

-V i n d i c a t i o n

-Anyway.

-Dafoe-Von Franz-Van Helsing is a kooky science occultist. Finds a book that Knock had which fills the role of highlighting Orlok as Solomonari (hey, Scholomance shout out!) and Knock as a would-be beneficiary. Also includes the ‘maiden offers her body and blood to the monster to kill it via sunrise’ bit.

-While he reads this, he does NOT actually spell any of these details out to Ellen when they have their secret mini talk about tricking Thomas into hunting for the coffin with him and Sievers. He gives her a big ~you're the only one who can save us magic maiden martyr~ pep talk, but that's it. Meanwhile, Ellen was already preparing to offer herself to save Thomas and whoever’s left in Wisborg. Not the same kind of agency as the original, but still better than I was expecting.

-Harding, Thomas’ rich friend whose wife and children got drinked to death, dies of plague in the family tomb. They burn the bodies.

-In the ruin Orlok bought, cue the iron stake slamming down as they open the coffin..! But whoops. Knock’s in the box, not Orlok. Von Franz says Ellen offering herself is the only way~ Thomas doesn’t waste time throttling him, just makes a run for their home.

-Too late, of course. Orlok is there (with a very cool homage to the original stalking shadow silhouette routine) and Ellen welcomes him. While they are both naked in bed and it’s implied that they are/or intend to have sex, the bulk of the scene centers on Orlok taking Ellen’s blood from her breast. No clear shot of the Orcock on screen for that bit—Bobby Egg saved that pleasure for the Count flashing Thomas at the castle.

-Orlok’s death throes. Are so. Fucking. Cool. Definitely up there with one of the best vampiric demises I’ve ever seen on film. No spoilers there. You’ve got to see it.

-Heartbreak o’ Clock as Thomas bursts in just as Orlok has died and as Ellen is dying under him. There’s time for them to hold hands. And then she’s gone.

-We close on Von Franz popping up with some poetic soliloquy shit and a bunch of lilacs. The final beat is an overhead shot of Ellen, the Maiden, laying under the now-skeletal Orlok, as Death. Looks almost like a painting. Unlike the implication in the leaked script, she does not look happy/at peace. Simply asleep. The End.

-Other important notes:

1) Orlok has a little combover’s worth of hair on top and mighty and powerful ‘stache. Not Dracula-white, but it is there. Finally.

2) The guy who plays Dr. Sievers has Alan Rickman’s voice. If he isn’t in opera, he should be.

3) I was too late to get a popcorn coffin box. I shall be in mourning until the New Year.

4) Bobby Egg if you can give me one more gift, let it be a deleted scene of Thomas beating Von Franz over the head with the iron stake, please and thank you <3

#Merry Christmas to meeeee #nosferatu #nosferatu 2024 #nosferatu spoilers #spoilers #robert eggers #my writing

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a1ecmcdowell · 14 hours ago

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ㅤ♡ㅤjust a little more, with [ doe!reader ] & [ clark kent ] ㅤ (18+!!)

you always beg him so pretty. tears pouring from your eyes, saliva pooled in the corners of your parted, panting lips, a glossy thin sheen of sweat coating every inch of your soft skin.

clark's thumb traces gingerly over your cheekbone, revenant touches over each part of your face that his large palms can get his fingers on. you've stilled in his lap, legs tired and going numb, pelvis sore.

"c'mon, pretty girl," he mumbles, his thumb trailing its way up to your lip, tracing across the kiss-swollen, pinkened skin. "you can take it," he leans up to nuzzle his cheek against your tearstained one, brushing your hair away from your face with his nose until his lips are against your earlobe.

your head shakes, and you sniffle softly, burying your face into the crook of his shoulder. his free hand finds its way to your thigh, tracing light, mindless shapes on the trembling muscle with his fingernail. "you can, sweet girl," clark insists, tongue tracing along the shell of your ear with his gentle words. "look at me. can you look at me when i'm talkin' to you, angel?"

his fingers trace along your jaw as he guides your head back toward him, forehead to forehead. "there she is," he whispers, just as reverent as his touch is. you're glass to him, even if you don't think it right now. he's terrified to shatter or crack you. "hi," he says with a small, breathless laugh.

"hi," you manage to choke out, your voice gone, your body spent, and clark has the audacity to look at you like he has no intention of stopping, like he'd done nothing at all so far, even though he'd brought you to a violent, trembling orgasm at least four times now. one more, he pressed earlier, when the tears prickling in the corners of your eyes had started to spill, just one more. five's lucky, isn't it?

five didn't feel lucky. five felt like overstimulation, trembling muscles, hot tears sliding down flushed cheeks.

"look how good you're doin' for me, angel," he says, his two fingers taking your chin between them and guiding your head downwards to watch as he shifted his hips, just enough to remind you that he was still buried deep in your swollen pussy. you were sore, and overwhelmed, and the feel of it is just enough to draw a whimper out of your lips. "i know it's a lot, i do, but i also know how strong my pretty girl is."

his praise is enough to relight the fire within you. a second wind, clark'd probably say; a fatal mistake, you'd probably correct.

clark's palm flattens on your thigh when you start to move again on him, slow drawn out circles of your hips, unable to lift yourself too much to properly ride him. still, even just like this, you could feel him stretching you open, even so deep within your wet heat.

his head falls back against the wood of his headboard with a hollow knock, eyes fluttering back open as he watches you through the thick black veil of his eyelashes.

"you're so good to me," he says, his words only slightly slurred through his haze of pleasure, compared to the whimpering, whining mess you were atop him, "jus' a little more, jus' like this, yeah?"

"mhm," you manage through your clenched teeth and pouted lips, letting his hand wrapped around your thigh guide you, support your weight, as your movements become more deliberate.

his lips quirk, dimples punctuating his smile in the soft skin of his cheeks. his hand on your face slips up, up, just enough to press his thumb on your bottom lip and tug it down, slipping the thick digit into your mouth. the pad of it presses ever so slightly down on your tongue, muffling every noise starting back up in the back of your throat.

clark's hips start to lift, meeting each downward grind of your pussy around him with an extra bit of gentleness that he only reserves for you. he could be rougher ─ had been rougher, earlier ─ but he never pushed more than he knew you could take. breaking you in any way was something that he'd never forgive himself for.

except... like this. when even just a couple of deep thrusts into your tight, soaked walls brought those soft sobs out of you again. "shh," he mumbles, his voice roughened with his grunts but still so, so soft for you, "just like this, baby, you're doing so good... just a little more..."

tags. @deansbeer @titsout4jackles @deansbite DO I. HAVE ANY OTHER SMALLVILLE MOOTS IDK PLSSS

doe!reader masterlist found here !

#──★ dahlia's jrnl #doe!reader #clark kent x doe!reader #clark kent #clark kent x you #clark kent x reader #smallville #smallville drabble #clark kent drabble #smallville one shot #clark kent one shot

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leona-hawthorne · 2 days ago

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And for him, that was awful enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit, you’re not wearing a bra.

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

alr here we go (i'm horny now)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

love you zoya!!!! 🫂🤍

𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍

mattheo riddle x fem reader

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

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

navigation -> masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were trapped. Absolutely trapped.

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

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

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

After all, you were friends.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And for him, that was awful enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stupid curiosity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sometimes you wanted to punch him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take off your shirt.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was going to be fun, at least.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was about to lose his mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

likes and reblogs are appreciated 🫶🏻

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

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

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle smut #smut #harry potter #my recs 💫

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lovie-bugzz · 2 days ago

Text

goodnight ┊sirius black

pairing - bsf!sirius x f!reader (first person pov)

summary - You wake up from a nightmare, not being able to sleep. So you go to your best friend Sirius for comfort. Still not being able to sleep, Sirius claims he knows the perfect way to get you to sleep…

contains - smut, soft dom!Sirius, swearing, fingering, female orgasm, dirty talk, teasing, orgasm denial(sort of)

word count - 4627

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I woke up with a start, shooting up in my bed with a gasp, my eyes shooting open as I panted heavily. My heart was racing, my body was sweating profusely, and I was shaking.

I haven’t had a nightmare this bad since I was a kid, but recently they’ve been happening more frequently as the wizarding war gets more intense. Seeing the terrifying and awful things that are happening in the world written on the daily prophet everyday has taken a toll on me.

I was scared all the time. It felt like all it took was one wrong move and my friends and I would be gone, just like that.

Once I steadied my heartbeat, I laid back down, letting out a sigh. I closed my eyes again, trying to get back to sleep, but whenever I closed my eyes, all I could see were flashes from my nightmare, all of my friends dying at the hands of the dark lord.

I sat up once more, thinking for a moment before getting out of bed, grabbing my wand, and leaving my dorm. I quickly but quietly walked down the girls dormitory stairs, and went up the boys stairs.

I found myself standing in front of the marauders dorm, after a moment I pointed my wand at the doorknob and whispered, “Alohomora.” before twisting the handle and walking in.

I was sort of surprised to see all of the boys sound asleep since usually they'd be up causing mischief, so I carefully closed and locked the door behind me.

I tiptoed over to Sirius’ bed, chuckling quietly to myself as I peaked through his curtains and saw his sleeping position. His black hair wildly strewn across his face, while he held tightly onto one of his pillows, soft snores falling from his lips.

I admired him for a moment longer before moving the curtain aside so I could reach down and nudge his shoulder. “Sirius… Sirius…” I whispered.

The boy let out a soft grumble as he stirred a bit, before his eyelids slowly fluttered open, his sleepy gaze landing on me standing over him. His brows furrowed as he let out a yawn, "What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice raspy from just waking up.

“I… I had a nightmare. I can't get back to sleep.” I told him, shifting on my feet. Sirius was the only person who knew about my nightmares, though I never spoke in detail about them, which he respected.

His sleepy expression softened when he heard my words, concern etched onto his face as he studied my expression. He had been worried about me ever since my nightmares started. Sirius sat up fully and pushed the blankets off of him, “C'mere.” He said, patting the spot next to him on the bed for me.

I smiled gratefully and instantly slipped through his curtains, and crawled under his covers, curling into his bare chest. “Thank you…” I whispered to him as he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close to his side.

He hummed in response, wrapping his other arm around me as well and holding me tightly against his chest, his chin resting on the top of my head. He pressed a delicate kiss to the top of my head while one of his hands started gently rubbing my back.

"No need to thank me, darling." He whispered softly, the nickname rolling off his tongue easily.

I felt so safe in his arms, it's been a while since we've had a sleepover together, the last time was probably in our 3rd year, which was 3 years ago as now we are in 6th year. I let out a deep breath against his chest, feeling calmer now that I was in his arms.

Sirius smiled against my hair, he knew how much I loved and craved physical affection, especially in times like these where I was upset. He started tracing patterns along my back with his fingers, enjoying the feeling of having me in his arms again after a while.

"I missed this…" He admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. I nodded my head against him with a small content smile on my face, as I mumbled, “Yeah… me too.”

He hummed softly as he continued tracing patterns on my back, occasionally moving up to run his fingers through my hair. He looked down at me, noticing how tired I looked, and pressed another kiss to the top of my head before speaking up again. "You can try and sleep if you want, darling. I'm right here."

A small yawn left my lips, as I realized how exhausted I truly was, "Okay..." I spoke, letting my eyes close as I tried to fall asleep with Sirius still holding me close.

About 5 minutes had passed, and I couldn't fall asleep. I wasn't sure exactly why, as I was so tired, but my brain wouldn't turn off. I let out a huff as my eyes opened again, my brows furrowed in frustration as all I wanted was a good night's rest.

Sirius noticed how tense my body was against his, meaning that I wasn't asleep yet. He could tell that I was frustrated and probably annoyed that I couldn't sleep. He stopped tracing patterns on my back and moved his hand to gently grip my chin, tilting my head up to look at him. "Your mind is racing, isn't it?"

I nodded in response, rolling the smallest bit out of his arms and onto my back, making his hand fall from my chin. My gaze was fixed on the ceiling as I chewed on my bottom lip, something I did when I was frustrated.

Sirius raised an eyebrow at me as he propped himself up on his elbow looking down at me. "Hey, don't do that." He said, using his other hand to gently take my lip out from between my teeth with his thumb and index finger.

My head turned to the side to look at him as he freed my lip, I gave him a small smile before sighing, "I just want to be able to sleep. This is so annoying."

My words gave Sirius an idea. He knew how to get people to go to sleep, girls specifically. It was sort of his specialty. A mind blowing orgasm or two would do it. But he had never done that with me, I was his best friend, but at the same time, he knew how much I needed rest, and this was the only way he knew how to help me.

Sirius debated in his head for a moment, if he should really do what he had in mind, for a second he almost thought it was ridiculous, but then he looked at me. He looked at how tired I was and how frustrated I seemed. That's when he decided to do it, besides it didn't have to mean anything, it was just one friend helping another.

I furrowed my brows as I watched the grin grow on his face, and just before I could question him, he leaned closer to me and whispered, "I think I know just the thing to help you sleep, darling." He said in a soft yet suggestive tone.

My cheeks turned a soft pink as he used that tone of voice on me, I knew that tone. It was the same tone he always used when he tried to seduce girls.

"What are you-" I started, but before I could finish he cut me off by slowly placing a hand on my hip and gently tugging me closer to him.

He smirked as he saw the confused and curious look on my face. He then leaned in closer to the point where his breath was hitting my ear and spoke in a low tone, so only I could hear. "Would you like me to show you?"

His tone of voice and the way his breath wafted over my ear made a shiver run down my spine, my breath catching in my throat. "Sirius..." I whispered out, gulping before continuing. "Do you really think that's a good idea?"

Sirius' smirk only widened as he noticed how flustered I got by his subtle actions and the way my voice was shaking. His hand on my hip tightened a bit. He gently nipped at my earlobe before responding, his voice was still low and seductive as he spoke.

"I think it's the only idea, darling. You need to relax and get some rest, and I know just the way to do that." He said, his hand slowly moving from my hip to my thigh, giving it a light squeeze.

I gently bit my lip again, but this time to make sure any noises didn't slip out. He was turning me on, I could already feel the wetness seeping into my panties. But still, I had doubts, no matter how much I needed it.

"What if the boys hear?" I asked, but Sirius was already pulling his wand out from under his pillow and pointing it towards his bed curtains. He quickly muttered the silencing spell, "Muffliato."

He smirked as he looked back at me, placing his wand back under his pillow, I let out a shaky breath as his hand returned to my thigh, "There. They won't hear a thing." He told me, his voice now a little smug as he continued to tease you, before his face softened, "Just say the word, and I'll stop." He spoke, looking deep into my eyes to make sure I knew he was serious.

Now I wasn't an idiot, I knew all about Sirius' sexual escapades. How could I not? He bragged about them all the time, and from the stories I've heard from all the girls he's been with, I knew he was incredible in bed. With that knowledge mixed with my desperate need to get some sleep, I didn't have the strength in me to say no, so instead the words that came out of my mouth were, "Don't stop."

Sirius let out a satisfied hum as a smirk tugged on the corner of his lips, as he heard those words leave my mouth. His hand on my thigh traveled further up, slowly making its way in between my legs, stopping when his fingers were pressed against my covered core, making my breath hitch once again.

"Good girl." Sirius mumbled softly before leaning in closer, his mouth now directly next to my ear again. "Just relax and let me take care of you, darling." He whispered into my ear, nipping at it once again before pulling away and placing a light kiss on my neck, his other hand that wasn't between my legs moving to gently grip my chin, tilting my head back a bit.

A small whimper fell from my lips, and in one quick movement, Sirius had pushed me down so my back was against the bed, while he hovered over me, his lips still attached to my neck. After a moment, he pulled away, moving both his hands to the waistband of my shorts, but he stayed like that, not moving as he questioned me with his eyes.

I gave him a short nod, but it seemed Sirius wanted more, "Words, darling. I need words." He said in a low voice, making me squirm a bit. I gulped, before speaking, "Take them off."

Sirius smirked once again, obviously loving the effect he had on me. It made his ego grow. "As you wish, darling." He responded, before slowly tugging my shorts down my legs and placing them to the side. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he stared down at me, before leaning back down to hover above me.

His lips reattached to my neck, now lightly nipping at the skin, occasionally letting out a soft growl against my skin when he found a sensitive spot that made me let out a soft sound. One of his hands slowly pulled up my shirt, his hand occasionally slipping under it to gently run his fingers over my stomach, while his other hand went back to its spot between my legs, now starting to rub small circles over my clit through my panties, making me whine in pleasure.

Sirius continued his assault on my neck, his tongue darting out occasionally to soothe over the spots that he nipped leaving small purple marks that would have to be covered up tomorrow, but right now he didn't care.

His attention was focused on finding the spots that made me whimper and whine, and once he did, he would make sure to keep his mouth in that spot as long as possible, all while his other hand continued to tease me through my panties in the most torturous way. He was enjoying every single noise that was escaping me, loving the way I was squirming and wriggling underneath him.

"You make such beautiful sounds, darling." He whispered against my skin, his lips trailing down to my collarbone as he moved my panties to the side. The boy chuckled when he felt me shiver underneath his touch.

My breath hitched in my throat as I felt the delicate touch of his finger against my soaking wet folds. "S-Sirius..." I whimpered out, as he pulled his head back to look down at me. My face was blushed, my breath coming in pants, I was already a mess.

"You’re so wet for me already.” he spoke, and as if to prove a point he let his middle finger slip right inside me, making me gasp in both pleasure and shock. He smirked down at me as he took his finger back out, spreading my slick around my folds.

My head lolled back against the pillow as more whimpers fell from my mouth. I don't think I had ever been this turned on and desperate in my life. What was even more shocking was the fact that Sirius Black, my best friend, was doing this to me, he was making me feel like this.

When Sirius saw my head fall back against the pillow, he gently grabbed my chin with his free hand and tilted my head up so my eyes locked onto his, his smirk only growing wider when he saw how flushed and desperate I looked. "Look at me." He said, his gaze was dark, full of lust while his finger dropped to my entrance again to collect more of my wetness, before trailing up to my bundle of nerves, rubbing in tight circles.

His words combined with his actions made me let out a moan as I struggled to keep my gaze on him. "Shh, I know, darling." He mumbled, as his finger continued its slow, torturous pace on my clit, wanting to drive me insane before any sort of relief. "Look at you, already trembling and whining for me, and I've barely even touched you."

He was right, I was trembling, my breaths coming in pants as my heart thundered against my chest. I was so desperate, all I wanted was a release, but he was taking his time with me. "Sirius... Please." I whimpered, looking up at him.

His dick was throbbing against his pants, straining against the material and begging for attention as he watched me squirming and moaning at his touch. But for once in his life he didn’t feel the need to give himself pleasure, tonight was about me and me only. "You want it, don’t you?" he asked, leaning down and placing a kiss against my cheek while his finger picked up its pace the smallest bit, "You want my fingers inside you?” He breathed out in question.

I let out a shaky moan as I felt him kiss my cheek and spoke to me in that low sultry voice. He was driving me insane, his words and his actions making my eyes roll back in my head, "Y-Yes." I responded, my voice was trembling as I could barely speak from the way I was shaking with pleasure. I moved my head to the side, my cheeks flushed red as I met his gaze again. I could tell that this was affecting him too, but he was being surprisingly selfless tonight.

The look on my face and the tone of my voice made his smirk grow even wider, his breathing becoming a bit unsteady the more he watched me squirm and moan from his touches.

He gently rubbed his thumb over my bottom lip, before leaning down closer so our faces were mere inches away from each other. "You look absolutely beautiful like this..." he mumbled, which made my stomach clench and my face flush. After a moment, he pulled his finger away from my pussy and brought it up to my mouth, tracing my lips with it, before whispering, "Open your mouth for me."

I did as he said, parting my lips just enough for his finger to slip in, and I wrapped my lips around it, swirling my tongue as I tasted myself. Sirius let out a shaky breath as he watched me, a small groan leaving his mouth, "Fuck..." He practically growled as he removed his finger from my mouth.

Sirius leaned back down and started to place kisses down my neck as he whispered in my ears, the low tone of his voice making me shiver under him once again. "Such a good girl, following instructions so nicely." He mumbled, the smirk never leaving his face as he gently nipped at my skin.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me right now, darling." he mumbled, his finger trailing back down my body, "But right now it's about you, and only you. Understood? Tonight is only about your pleasure."

I bit my lip, nodding my head in response as I didn't think I'd even be able to form any words at the moment. Sirius smirked at me, muttering a small, "Good." and before I could even say or do anything, he slipped two fingers inside of me, pumping them at a slow speed making me moan out.

"You're so tight, darling." he mumbled, as he picked up the pace just the smallest bit, loving the look on my face as I moaned in response. It wasn't rare to see a girl like this for him, so desperate and needy, falling apart for him, but the fact that it was me only made it even more special, but he kept that to himself. He was only doing this to help me sleep, right? He shook the thought off before it could develop further, pushing the thoughts to the back of his mind in favor of paying attention to my pleasure.

"Fuck, Sirius..." I moaned out, as he picked up his pace even more, while simultaneously circling his thumb around my clit. The feeling made my eyes roll back in my head as my hands searched around me for something to grip onto, only finding the bedsheets below me, trying to ground myself in some way as my body trembled from his touch.

"Yeah? You like your best friend's fingers?" He teased as he pumped his digits even faster, his gaze focused on my pleasure filled face. I unconsciously clenched around him from his dirty words, the action making him let out a low growl. "Answer me." He spoke, his voice husky as his fingers reached deeper inside of me, brushing right up against my g-spot.

I let out a guttural moan, "Yes! Yes, I love it!" I moaned out, feeling myself getting closer to my release, and I was sure he could tell too, with the way I was constantly squeezing around his fingers.

His smirk only grew, he was growing obsessed with hearing me moan out what he wanted to hear. If there was anything Sirius Black loved it was praise, hearing a girl tell him how good he was making her feel. But once again he had to try and shake off the weird feelings he was getting from all this. I was his best friend, but for some reason it seemed to feel like much more than that. Sirius looked down at me, watching my expression change as I grew closer and closer to my release, but he was nowhere near being done with me. He wanted to see how much he could push me.

His pace picked up, now going at such a speed that my breath was coming out in pants and my vision was going blurry, and I was so close, right on the edge of my release. Right when I was about to cum, Sirius slowed down to an achingly slow pace, his smirk growing wider as he saw the look on my face. He knew how desperate I was, he knew what I wanted.

He kept up his slow pace, his thumb gently rubbing against my clit every so often, but never enough to send me over the edge. "Come on, Sirius." I whined out, my hips squirming as I tried to make him go faster again.

"Ah, ah." He said, using his free hand to lightly grip my hip, stopping me from moving while keeping his fingers moving at their unbearably slow pace, "Patience darling. Don't be greedy." He spoke, his voice was smug, seeing the desperation on my face, knowing what I wanted, but not giving it to me just yet. He was enjoying torturing me like this, the control he had over my pleasure.

He knew exactly what he was doing to me, and he knew it was driving me crazy. I let out a frustrated groan as he continued to move his fingers at a snail's pace, my hips trying to move but his hand on my hip stopped me from doing so. I looked up at him, my eyes filled with a mix of desperation and need, silently begging him to let me cum.

Seeing the look on my face, made his heart flutter and his stomach clench. He'd never been this affected by a girl before, well at least not that he could remember. He was starting to wonder if this was a good idea, but before he could think about it too hard, one of his fingers curled up against my g-spot and his pace picked up speed. Not too much, but it was enough to send my eyes rolling back in my head, and a loud moan tore from my throat.

The sound of your moan sent a jolt straight to his cock, making him bite back a moan of his own. His eyes never left your face as he continued to move his fingers inside of you, watching your expressions change with every single touch, committing them to memory.

Still being sensitive from my stolen orgasm, it didn't take long for me to get close again. I couldn't hold back any of the moans leaving my mouth, my body was tingling with pleasure and need for release.

Sirius watched as you grew more and more desperate, and as you approached your orgasm again, he started to pick up the pace of his fingers once more. He knew you wouldn't last long this time, not after what he had just done to you.

"Are you close, darling?" he asked, his voice low and husky as he spoke into your ear. His thumb moved faster over your clit as he curled his fingers inside you.

"Yes. Yes! Please let me cum." I moaned out, practically pleading with him as I neared the edge.

His smirk only grew wider at that, he loved seeing me begging for him, begging for my release, it only fueled his ego even more. "Go on then, darling. Cum for me." he practically growled out, as his fingers moved even faster, hitting all the right spots inside me.

And once his words registered in my brain, I did, my back arching off the bed as a series of sounds left my mouth, a mix of his name and curses. My entire body shook in pure ecstasy, my vision going white for a moment as I came, hard, my legs trembling as I tried to process the intense feeling.

The look on Sirius' face was satisfied as he watched, his heart racing from seeing me get so lost in pleasure that he was giving me. His eyes were fixed on my face, taking in every single expression, every single twitch and every single moan. He was growing obsessed, watching me fall apart from his touch, he didn't understand why he was having these thoughts and feelings, and for once, Sirius Black wasn't in control of himself.

In one swift movement, he leaned down and captured my lips with his in a heated kiss, swallowing all of my moans as his fingers worked me through my orgasm. His eyes were shut tightly as his lips moved against mine, he was completely lost in the kiss, his fingers continuing to move inside me as my body trembled under his touch.

The kiss was messy and completely intoxicating, neither of us seemed to want it to end anytime soon. Sirius felt something inside him start to stir as he kissed me, something that he didn't quite understand, but he wasn't thinking properly enough to question what it was.

After another moment, he forced himself to pull his lips away from mine, but his fingers didn't stop, he only slowed down before eventually stopping, watching as I whimpered and trembled under him from the aftershocks of my orgasm. "You're so beautiful like this." he whispered, his voice soft as he pulled me into his arms.

I was still shaking as he pulled me into his arms, burying my face in the crook of his neck as I attempted to steady my breathing and slow my thudding heart. Everything was still sort of blurry from the intensity of the orgasm he had given me, I was sure this was the most powerful one I had ever experienced. "You're not so bad yourself..." I mumbled against his skin, my voice weak and shaky.

He chuckled lightly and planted a gentle kiss on top of my head, a small smirk still on his face as he thought about everything that just happened. His thoughts were racing a mile a minute as he tried to make sense of his feelings.

He laid there with me in his arms, the sound of our heavy breathing filling the room. Sirius was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he just made his best friend cum. His best friend, who he was so close with that they practically knew everything about each other, who he had never even looked at in a sexual way before.

I stayed pressed up against his chest, my eyes slowly started to flutter closed as my body relaxed against him. His heartbeat was steady and soothing next to my ear, and the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed helped to slowly calm my own frantic breathing. Soon I felt the exhaustion start to hit me, my body completely spent from everything that just happened.

Sirius smiled a little as he felt my body slowly go slack against him, my breaths becoming deep and even as I began to fall asleep. He held me close to him, continuing to place soft kisses on top of my head. He still had a million questions in his head about everything that had just happened, but his mind was too foggy from exhaustion to properly process all of them. After a moment he spoke, his voice soft and quiet.

"Goodnight, darling."

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mistressmxggot · 2 days ago

Text

Chapter 5- ✰ When I Picture You ✰

"𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴. 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻'𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗽𝘂𝗿𝗴𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗛𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝘁 𝗱𝗲𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝘀𝗲."

Tags: Physical assault, imprisonment, manipulation

~The next day started that same as yesterday, you were scared, angry, and frustrated. Staying in bed for a while seemed like a good idea. You didn't want to get up, and you didnt want to face her.

The sound of knocking felt like a boulder hitting you in the head.

"What."

Quiet followed. The door peeked open, a woman's head poking in. She opened the door wider, slowly creeping into the room.

"Ms Medarda has sent me to assist you."

If you never had to hear that goddamn name again, you'd be beyond happy and content. The woman's steps grew closer, her face coming into view. She was cute, a pair of square glasses sat on her button nose with a head of short, brown curls surrounding her round face. She smiled, placing a glass of water on the drawer to the right of you. You reluctantly sat up.

"When you have finished your breakfast, I will show you around."

You eyed her. What was Ambessa's angle with this girl? There was always something with her. She seemed nice enough.

"What's your name?"

She smiled. "My name is Vivian, but you may call me Viv."

You returned the smile and got out of bed.

"I will leave you to any private buisness. Please find me outside when you are finished."

With that she left the room, gently closing the door. Leaving this room felt like walking into another dimension. Out there, you were always on edge, waiting for Ambessa's next move. You were hungry, and you couldn't hide in here forever.

After finishing your hygiene and getting dressed, you met Vivian outside your door. On the walk to the dining room, you were constantly searching for Ambessa. Thank goodness she was elsewhere.

Vivian happily ate breakfast with you. She was good company, and she wasn't terrifying like Ambessa and Rictus were. When you both finished breakfast, she dragged you through the entire place. You saw Ambessa once, speaking to some person of importance. She gave you one glance, and nothing else.

The place was beautiful, but huge. You had to have seen ever item in existence in this place. You saw the throne room, the training area, multiple living areas and a dancing area with multiple poles. Had she made that for you? You wondered. There were only a couple rooms you couldn't go in. Her offices and two locked rooms. You didn't want to know what was behind those doors. It was none of your buisness, and you wanted to keep it that way. The library was by far your favorite. There were more books than any person needed, rows and rows of multiple genres. Lounge areas sat in different parts of the room. It seemed bigger than the entire Last Drop, maybe two of it combined. It was a brown room, sunken in and cozy. Reading every book possible in this room was the goal. The library was definitely the best room in the house.

A pause for lunch and more discovery before dinner. You saw her gardens, a large backyard that seemed to go for miles. Plants and flowers of every kind and of course multiple servants tending to them. The entire structure reflected Ms Medarda.

She was there at dinner with you. It passed by silent, and then she was gone again. You had fallen asleep that night thinking about her. You were always thinking about her.

This place wasn't too bad. You came to the library often, always getting caught in books. You read books about dragons and ways of war. You read classics and dramas. Viv was fun to be around. She was nice and a person of comfort. There was still a disconnect. There seemed to be alot of things she couldn't tell you. You understood, she was still Ambessa's servant.

You only saw Ambessa during dinner, which was usually silent. You had spoken a couple times. She would ask you if you were alright and if you were going to paint anytime soon. She actually genuinely seemed interested. Days passed, but night was always spent thinking. When night time came around, you had time to think about alot, unfortunately. She didn't force you to do anything you didn't want to do. She just...kept you. It confused you. What did she want?

You had heard noises coming from her room tonight. Surprisingly, these were the first noises you heard this past week and a half. You'd thought that she would be fucking like a rabbit. Covering your head with the pillow, you tried not to make out any words or sounds coming from the other room. She was so nasty. The warmth around around your head soon soothed you to sleep.

You woke up the next day, once again a glass of water left for you. You were annoyed today, not exactly sure why. Everything tipped off your attitude and you especially didn't want to see Ambessa. Viv was the only thing that calmed you down. She told you that Ambessa wanted you to buy something for yourself. You initially scoffed, but you wanted to get supplies for painting. She gave you some money and the two of you went to the town.

The town was nice. People were friendly, but your mind was elsewhere. All you seemed to think about was Ambessa. It didn't matter how many times Viv pulled you out of your thoughts to focus on something else. Your mind always drifted back to her.

The two of you returned a little before dinner. You passed Ambessa on the way to your room.

"What did you purchase?"

You looked up at her. "Just some art supplies."

"Is that all? No clothing or a personal item for you?"

"I didnt want to spend it all. I mean it was alot of money."

She let out a laugh.

"I suppose."

With a smile and a hm, she left you. That annoyed you. She was annoying. What did she mean I suppose? Was that not alot of money? You were just relieved she had gone. Her presence took so much energy from you.

You knew you had to talk to her and figure something out. Maybe you could offer her something. You needed to find a way home.

With a frustrated sigh, you returned to your room. Curled into the fetal position, you lay in your bed. Thoughts wandered to places you didn't want them too. You couldn't exactly figure out if you missed the brothel. You should miss it. You should miss Malik. You shouldn't be enjoying the things she gave to you. She was infuriating and so intelligent and intoxicating.

Stop it.

She was terrible and you hated her. You didn't.

This was purgatory. You wanted to hate her. You should. You should hate her and everything here. To be fair, life at the brothel wasn't great. Malik was...Malik. Zaun was your home. You assumed that's were you belonged. It didn't matter you had to sell your body and deal with Malik's abuse. Zaun was your home. Zaun was your-

"Supper is ready."

You heard Vivian's voice. A grimace crossed your face.

"Not hungry."

Vivian uncomfortably shifted on her feet. "Please. Ms Medarda awaits you."

You growled at her. "Viv.. Seriously please go away."

The door softly shut, leaving you alone again. You forced your mind to drift elsewhere. Maybe you should just leave, Malik would have to understand. Your eyes began to get heavy. They shot back open when you heard those heavy footsteps approaching your room. There was no knocking, you heard her just bust through the door. Anxiety covered your body.

"Why are you refusing to eat?"

You stayed under the covers.

"Not hungry."

She sighed loudly. "Come eat supper."

"I said I'm not hungry. Get out."

Her footsteps approached the bed. You quickly pulled the blanket off, shooting out of bed.

"Get away from me!"

She gave you a confused but stern look.

"You will eat. Address your feelings later."

Your eyebrows knotted in anger. She was beyond infuriating.

"I don't want to eat. I want to go home. Ask Malik to come get me or take me back. Something. Anything!"

She kept watching you. With wide strides, she approached. You backed up, hitting the drawer behind you. She grabbed you arm, pulling you aggressively towards her.

"What are you doing?!"

The pad of her thumb ran over the faded bruises on your arm. She sighed.

"Everything I have given you.." Her eyes met yours. "Everything I could give you, yet you still want to return to him."

Shame sat deep in you. "You don't know anything about me!" You yelled back at her, snatching your arm out of her grip. She let you.

Before you could think, your stomach and face were pressed into the bed. Ambessa bend her hard body over yours, forcing you further into the soft blankets. Her left hand pushed on your nape, her right binding yours behind your back. She leaned her head down to yours, lips brushing against your ear. Your face stuck to the furs, sweat clinging to your skin. Her hand started at the base of your scalp, working it's way down your spine. You shivered, cowering further into the bed. Ambessa tutted, letting out an exaggerated sigh.

"I think I know what your feeling. I am feeling it too. I know what you want, as do you."

You struggled under her hold, face red. "What are you talking about?! Get off of me!"

Your entire body was on edge, breath picking up. This was awful, your body responding in ways you didn't want it to.

"Get off! Get off!"

She pulled back. You layed there, your wet face still buried in the blankets.

"Come eat. I won't tell you again."

She began to make her way towards the door. You stood up. You were so angry, your entire body hot. You couldn't think. You weren't thinking. There was a half full glass of water still on the dresser.

Don't do this.

You grabbed the glass of water, launching it at her back. You had only realized what you had done when you heard the sharp shatter of the glass hitting the floor.

This was it. You were done. You thought about Malik and the brothel. About Viv and that amazing salad you had the first week. You thought about your father, God rest him. You thought about your apartment and that stray cat you saved from starving.

She would surely kill you for this. Would she give you a proper burial? Or would she throw your cold body into a ditch for wolves to eat at you? Your mouth became dry as you watched her slowly turn. First she had a blank face. Shock? Disbelief? You couldn't tell. Anger lit up in her eyes and you think you peed a little bit.

"I'm so sorry I didn't- I wasn't-"

She made her way towards you, faster than you wanted her to.

"Please I-"

Her hand grabbed your neck, the other pulling at you hair. You screamed, trying to kick and push away from her. She dragged you through the hallway.

"Rictus open the door!"

You panted, watching as she dragged you towards one of the forbidden doors. Oh god. Rictus followed, holding a pair of keys. He opened the door, a long dark staircase waiting for you. You didn't want to know what was down there. She pulled you down the stairs. The blood drained out of your face. There, in a long hallway, were multiple cells. Rictus unlocked one, opening the door for Ambessa. She threw you in, your body sliding across the floor. She entered and grabbed your hair again, bringing her face close you yours.

"Perhaps I've been to lenient with you girl. So ungrateful. Should I just take what I want?"

You cried out. "Please no I'm sorry!"

She pushed your haed into the ground, standing up and swiftly leaving the cell. You heard the door slam shut and the sound of it locking you in. Her heavy footsteps dissapearing.

You lie there, tears burning your vision. Sobs echoed threw the cell. All the things she said ran through your head. She was wrong. She was just trying to manipulate you. She was wrong. Your sobs began to quiet, your eyes getting heavy. You were exhausted. Mentally and emotionally. Of course the cold, hard floor wasn't comfortable, but you were so tired. You didn't want to think about her anymore, you couldn't. You just wanted to sleep.

You were at the brothel. Her muscular body approached you, hips swaying seductively. Her lips were parted. Her heavy, lustful eyes never left yours.

"Show me."

Her thick voice rung in your ears. You obeyed, slowly slipping off your bra. She smiled, her eyes dropping to your breasts.

"So beautiful. Proceed."

You let out a weak whimper, slowly spreading your knees apart. Her eyes trailed down to your soaked cunt. Your white underwear now all see-through. She leaned down, running her large hands over your knees, then down your thighs. She gently pushed them together. You looked at her with pleading eyes. Ambessa slowly pulled down your underwear, tossing them to the side. Her breathing stopped as she spread your knees apart. Your entire face was red and hot, the warmth of her hands sending tingles to your groin. Your breath hitched in your throat. She leaned her head down, her eyes never leaving yours. You could feel wetness on your cheeks. This was more than you ever thought it would be. Her energy was too much, your body responding to ever part of her. You gasped as her gorgeous mouth met your cunt. She watched your head fall back. Her thick tongue petting your slit before sucking your clit into her mouth. You groaned loudly, thighs closing around her head. She didn't seem to mind. You could feel your orgasm climbing quickly, breath becoming sporadic. She sucked harder, moaning into your cunt. You moaned loudly, your climax taking over your entire body. She lifted her head, staring into your eyes. You two just looked at eachother for a while. Your face was wet and flush. "Come to me little lamb." You blinked at her.

Your eyes opened, back sore from the hard floor.

"Oh my god."

Your dream came back to you. Shame and regret bit at you. Looking down, you spread your thighs. Stickiness clung to your skin. You just had a wet fucking dream about Ambessa fucking Medarda after being thrown into a cold fucking jail cell. You had been wrong. You weren't in purgatory, you were in Hell and it definitely could get worse.~

You. Always. Masterlist

This chapter whooped my ass but it was fun to write 😭 Merry Christmas.

Lmk to be added.

Taglist: @maaaaaaaaaaari , @ivorydevil , @trizxyp , @ambessaswifey , @randomstuffthatdontmakesense , @simplyxwwww , @last-dropsevi

#ambessa medarda #arcane #arcane ambessa #ambessa #ambessa league of legends #ambessa medarda x reader #ambessa x reader #ambessa smut #ambessa x you

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ninikrumbs · 3 days ago

Text

Christmas love

satoru gojo x reader. for all my girlies spending christmas alone. fluffy fluff fluff. idiots in love. established relationship. ᰍ ׅ ۫ . 🧣 ೀ

The smell of cinnamon and pine wafts through the air, as Satoru and you left the Christmas Market. His hand held yours inside his jacket pocket as you watch him talk animatedly beside you.

“I’m sure my plans can’t compare to yours,sweets!”

Satoru was just about at the end of telling you his plans for the rest of Christmas week; Babbling excitedly about his Christmas dinner with his family, a short ski trip with Suguru and Shoko on the 25th, and even a reunion dinner with some old high school friends.

It wasn’t a surprise to you, Satoru was social, friendly, abundantly popular, and the life of every party so of course everyone wanted him around.

You laugh as genuinely as you could before answering him, “Of course! I’m jam packed, I feel like Christmas caroling is the only thing I’m not doing this week.”

Lies. Well not completely, you did have a few dinners lined up with a couple of close friends, even a birthday party. The only thing was your were gonna spend Christmas Eve and Christmas day alone.

A good few of your friends were married so they spent Christmas with their families or spouses, some where taking out of the country trips and some were working on Christmas day. It was a bit depressing, you weren’t exactly expecting to spend Christmas alone.

But at least you had today, which was your date with Satoru to go around the Christmas Village. You had fun, with the dinner, the ice skating, the slow dancing under the mistletoe with Satoru stealing a kiss, and now holding hands as the both of you walked to his car under the cold winter air. It was perfect.

Satoru’s lips quirk up, “Hmm, maybe we should go caroling next year! Start a new tradition together!”

While it moves your heart to bits that he can see you still being together next year this early into your one month relationship, it still stung that you won’t be spending Christmas with him this year. You honestly thought he would ask you when he started talking about his plans a few days ago, but then he started asking about your amazing plans so you decided to fib.

This connection is new and delicate. You couldn’t ask him to drop his traditions and plans for you; plans that were made before you started dating, that was just selfish and knowing him, he probably would drop everything if he found out about your non existent plans. So you chose not too, it’ll be fine, you’ll be fine.

You playfully roll your eyes at him, “Sure, Toru. You can take some singing lessons while your at it!”

He holds a hand to his heart in offense, gasping so dramatically, “I’ll have you know that I have the voice of an angel!”

“Babe..” You clasp his free hand before exhaling, “Whoever told you that was lying.”

You made a run for it the moment the words left your lips, laughing against the icy breeze.

Barely getting 5 steps away, strong arms capture your waist from behind, lifting you off your feet. Damn his long legs. “Gotcha!”

He places you down for one second before throwing you on his shoulder and starts walking.

“Satoru, put me down!” You grasp the back of his jacket, terrified of falling onto the icy pavement.

“Nope.” He says popping the p.

“I’m gonna fall!”

“You won’t.” Reassuring you by tightening his grasp on your waist.

“At least hold me with two arms!”

“Your man is the strongest, sweets. I only need one arm to carry you.”

You snort before mumbling, “Show off..”

He slaps a hand to your butt making you jump, startled. “I heard that.”

“Good.” Which earned you another soft spank to your butt, “Satoru! stop that and put me down, people are staring.”

Though you were sure they staring at your gorgeous boyfriend.

“Not until you say that your boyfriend is the most handsome man in the world and has a voice can even bring the dead to life!”

He was absolutely ridiculous, “No way!”

“Then your gonna be up there indefinitely.” He was joking you were sure of it, but there was nothing wrong in indulging him sometimes.

“Fine, I give!”

“Yessss!” He whoops in victory.

“Can you at least put me down?” You ask meekly.

He huffs, smoky air puffing out, “So you can run away again? Not happening.”

“Wouldn’t you rather I say it your face?”You say trying to convince him which makes him hum, thinking about it.

After a moment, he gently places you back on your feet but not without pulling you flush to his chest, holding you steady.

You were a little bit dizzy from the change of position, but you could still see Satoru’s bright azure eyes staring at you expectantly.

Once again, he was absolutely ridiculous yet you gaze at him with such exasperated fondness.

You reach up and softly brush his snowy bangs away from his face, your touch creating a light blush to dust his cheeks. “My boyfriend is the most handsome man in the world.”

Its makes his eyes gleam and smug smile curve on his lips. He was so pretty, so where was the lie?

“And..” You breathe out heavily as if it took everything in you say the next few words, “He has a voice that can bring the dead back to life.”

He grins victoriously and leans down to press a peck on your nose the your lips which makes you melt, “See? that wasn’t too hard.”

“You’re lucky I love you.” You grumble but with no real spunk behind it.

He presses another soft kiss to your lips, eyes filled with so much warmth, “The luckiest.”

You were still pouting when Satoru started walking towards the car again. Your gaze landing at your intertwined hands, no longer in his pocket. Your eyes drop when the reminder that you were gonna spend Christmas away from him creeps in your mind once more.

It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.

—

“Yeah, yeah, I’m all packed.” Satoru grumbles.

Shoko was nagging him about packing correctly for their ski trip. Make sure to bring your actual ski’s idiot. Like he didn’t know that. He forgot that one time. Big deal. He could just buy another pair at the ski resort.

“Hey, Gojo. I’m kinda surprise that your coming with us this year or I at least thought you wouldn’t be coming alone.”

He sighs, throwing himself on his bed with mood dropping instantly. “I didn’t want to pull y/n from her plans.”

The fact that he wasn’t spending Christmas with her made him so depressed, he doubts he was gonna have fun on this ski trip.

He thinks he made a good job at hiding his displeasure from her. Not wanting to come off more childish that he already did. But damn it did he want to see her. The phone call from earlier was barely enough to have his fill of you..

“Huh? What plans?” Shoko’s confused voice rings from the phone.

“Y’know, dinner plans or was it a Christmas girls night with her friends that they planned a whole while ago.”

The line goes quiet for a while, “Satoru..No, she doesn’t.”

Satoru’s heart drops at the certainty on her voice, “What are you talking about?”

—

Familiar tunes of popular Christmas hits floats throughout your apartment along with the scent of newly baked gingerbread muffins cooling down on your kitchen counter.

You took as sip of your hot coco from your ugly Christmas mug as you admired the twinkling lights on your small festive tree. The sound of your fireplace crackling made everything feel more cozy.

Christmas was a holiday you always enjoyed. Especially the traditions that came with it: the pretty lights, the colorful gifts, the white snow covering the pavements and roofs, the Christmas gatherings and how everyone seems to be extra nice this time of year. Ever since you were a kid, Christmas was simply magical.

You didn’t mind spending Christmas alone. You already had the evening filled with plans on baking which you had just finished, reading, and binge watching some cheesy Christmas movies.

Still, you find your mind wandering, even the magic of the fluffy snow falling down your window pane couldn’t fend off the prickle of loneliness dripping down your heart. Not to mention snow only reminded you of a certain someone.

You let out a sad exhale before catching yourself. Shaking your head, you put you mug down your coffee table and proceeded to clap your palms on your cheeks.

It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. There’s always next year. You can be selfish then.

After pathetically comforting yourself, you sit on the sofa planning to start perusing the dozens of Christmas films on Netflix.

Hmm, The Holidate sounds interesting. Fun and quirky, something that’s not gonna make you bawl your eyes out. Perfect.

The that’s intro comes up on the screen, but a sudden hard knock on your door makes you click pause.

Who could that be? Did you order something? Its probably a neighbor who needs a wine opener.

You make your way to the door, the incessant knocking continues. “I’m coming. jeez.”

You swing the the door open. The sight that greets you makes you take a step back, your heart tumbling over itself.

There he is with his hands on his knees, gasping for air like he ran a marathon to get here. Sweat lines his forehead despite the cold air. He runs a hands through his white strands as he happily grins at you,.

“Satoru, what are you doing here?” You ask skeptically, “Shouldn’t you be on your way to your ski trip?”

You couldn’t let yourself hope that he was here for you, maybe he forgot something in your apartment.

Yet he proves you wrong when he stands up to his actual height. His face flush from the effort, closes the door behind him and tugs you flushed to his warm chest. Your senses fills with his scent and you melt. He smells like home.

He plants a soft kiss to you temple as he buries his hand in you hair, breathing you in, “You didn’t think I was gonna let you spend Christmas alone, did ya?”

Your eyes grew wide before tears start to prickle your eyelids, the gravity of spending Christmas alone somehow finally sunk in at his words, making you clasp his back in distress. You weren’t fine at all. “How did you know..?”

He lets out a breath and pulls back at bit to gaze into your eyes. “It doesn’t matter, what matters is why didn’t you tell me?”

You drop his gaze, not able to form the words. How could you tell him? That you didn’t wanna look so pathetic. That you didn’t make any plans in hindsight of wanting to spend Christmas with him. It was either a Christmas with him or no one at all.

A hand on your chin guides you back to look at him, his face so distraught it made your heart clench. “Baby, I wanted nothing more than to spend Christmas with you.”

“But your plans..”

“Fuck those plans! I don’t care about them. I wanted to cancel every single one of them just so I could spend Christmas week with you.” He cries out.

“What?”

A finger wipes a stray tear from your eyes before cupping your cheek. His starry eyes looks at you with worry and a shed of guilt, “If I made you feel like Id rather spend time with other people than my gorgeous girlfriend, then I’m doing a horrible job as your boyfriend.”

“No! It just-” Despite his assurances you still couldn’t wrap your head around it, “I couldn’t just make you drop your plans, Toru. I’d feel too bad about it.”

He caresses a thumb down your cheek in understanding, “I mean sure we could have eaten dinner with my family, but other than that I would’ve been much happier spending my week with you, pretty.”

You don’t know if you felt relieved or embarrassed. Relieved that he felt the same way or embarrassed that he found out about you non existent plans. Okay, you were both.

You cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you try to explain yourself, “I’m sorry, Toru.. Its just what we have- its just so new and I didn’t know how to go about it and..” You give resigned sigh, “I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“Oh, baby.” He coos, pulling me back to his chest. “There’s no ruining this, that would be next to impossible, especially you. If there’s anyone who has a chance of ruining this, its me. You might get sick or too annoyed with me one of these days.”

He might be joking, but you could hear the insecurity lacing his words.

“No way!” You place a kiss on his chin. “That’s impossible.”

“I’m happy you think so, pretty.”

He pulls away once more and hangs his jacket on your coat rack. Then proceeds to lead you to your living room where you had everything set, from your Christmas decorations, your muffins, the tree, to the fireplace, and the paused movie.

“And to think you were gonna have such a cozy night without me, you must really hate me.”

You roll your eyes at him dramatics, “That’s far from the truth.”

He plops himself on the sofa that were filled with cozy Christmas themed pillows and thick blankets. The image made your stomach feel warm. He was here. Satoru was here. He came for you.

Like he always does.

You feel like an idiot for doubting him. He tilts his head at you just standing there. “Come here.”

And you do. Though before you could sit beside him, he pulls you down to his lap. Your back to his chest, “There you go. Right where you belong.”

You giggle, “There’s enough space for the both of us to sit, Toru.”

“Too much space if it makes you sit away from me.” He pouts childishly, tightening his arms around your waist.

“That’s just..” You shake your head with a fond smile. He nuzzles you neck for a good while, as if trying to make up for the time your weren’t in his arms.

“Sweets, I’m sorry” He murmurs against you neck after a while making you turn your head to look at him. “For what?”

“I should have been honest from the start..” His voice tinge with regret, “I wanted to beg you to cancel your plans from the beginning but I didn’t want to be selfish.”

You smile sheepishly at him, “Yet you wanted me to be selfish?”

He blinks, “Of course, your my girlfriend. I love you more than anything.” His voice was lace with so much unfiltered love, it made your eyes sting, “You come above everything else. I want you be selfish with me.”

You furrow your eyebrows, overwhelmed by his dedication, “Toru, that’s too much..”

He merely shakes his head, “Never too much. Not when it come to you. I hope you know that.”

You maneuver yourself in his lap so that your facing him. His sparkling blue eyes twinkling under the lights. He was so pretty it almost hurt. His mere existence overwhelmed you in the best way.

Cupping his face, you move in closer, “Then you should be selfish with me too. Don’t be scared to ask more of me, Toru.”

He stares at you, eyes tracing your face as if committing every feature to memory,

“God, I love you.” He breathes out as he pulls you by the neck and closes the gap between your lips.

Your toes curl as his lips molded with yours, your arms curls around his neck pulling him closer as he angled his head to deepen the kiss.

He groans against your lips as his tongue dances with yours and you could hear the sound of your lips echoing around the living room.

He tasted like candy and cinnamon. It made your head spin and heart pound a mile a minute , your hand crawled down touch his chest to feel his heart racing as fast as yours.

Its like he couldn’t get enough as he kissed you like a man starved again, again and again.

You didn’t want it to ever stop, but there was one more thing you needed to tell him.

You pull away with his lips chasing yours, eyes in a daze making you giggle, “Toru, before I forget.”

“What?” He says, bright blue eyes still focusing on your kiss bitten lips.

You pinch his nose, hoping to make him focus. “Merry Christmas, Toru.”

He blinks and scrunches his nose, a bit of clarity seeping into him as he smiles tenderly at you, “Merry Christmas, baby. On every list I ever sent. You’re the gift I love the best.”

Merry Christmas to everyone around the world!

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julymusings · 3 days ago

Note

I just can't get the idea of soulmate!jason where you share scars out of my head. Jason is a canvas of scars. We all find them beautiful and wouldn't judge him even if we were held at gun point.

But imagine you were getting those scars at the same time he was... it would be hard. Of course you are worried about your soulmate, but when you wake up with a permanent, very purposeful J branded onto your face, can you really tell me you wouldn't be embarrassed to go outside? Afraid of meeting your soulmate who seems to be either a criminal or in a very dangerous victim situation? Would you not be even a little angry that now your face is ruined?

(I know there is makeup, but we are ignoring that for a second)

Yes, you share these scars with your soulmate and somewhere along the line you'd find peace with them. But in the moment when you look in the mirror and find an autopsy scar... I can only imagine what you would feel.

Oh, and poor Jason. He would never be able to forgive himself. He probably wouldn't even realize he has a soulmate because if you get a scar he wouldn't notice it beside all of his.

This isn't a request. I just wanted to share my thoughts and hear yours.

Oh absolutely. I’m wondering exactly how far the scarring would go— would you have burns from the explosion? Do you wake up covered in bruises from the crowbar? A bump on the bridge between your eyes from a broken nose?

I imagine you’d be pretty resentful toward the universe if you woke up with a J branded on your face and marks from injuries that aren’t yours all over your body. And finding the autopsy scar?? Grieving someone you don’t even know? How would you recover from that? Especially so young; Jason died at 15, so you’d probably be around the same age. Imagine going into school like that. Teenagers are awful. They take one look at you and assume you’re bad news, because why else would you look so roughed up? Stay away from people like that, their parents whisper through side-eyed fear. Whoever your soulmate is, you hate them at least a little bit.

And if you follow the storyline where the pit heals all of Jason’s scars from joker and before, imagine waking up one day, almost two years later, and everything’s just gone. Would it be relieving or terrifying? But then you start to get some more, different from the old ones but it’s still as if they never left. Callouses on the pads of your fingers from squeezing a phantom trigger. Slices on the tip of your ear (Jason narrowly dodged three daggers launched by a furious Damian after he accidentally stepped on Titus’ tail). Is this some kind of joke? Is your soulmate pool confined to a singular street gang that gets into the same fights every night? (Luckily open wounds are few and far between now. Maybe it’s professional fighter who finally invested in some body armor, your friend jokes.) At least there’s no branding this time. I guess whoever they are, they’re better protecting their face this time around. Either way, it doesn’t matter. You’re not sure you want anything to do with them anymore. Who’s to say someone hurt this bad is capable of not hurting you?

But he is, he’s so capable and deserving. It breaks your heart to learn the origins of those marks you stared at in the mirror, judging and hating. If you thought having those scars was hard on you, he must have felt it tenfold. You try to act like it never bothered you, but you both know it did. The look on Jason’s face when you absentmindedly mentioned you never really made friends until college because everyone saw you as unapproachable in high school— it took a full week of loving reassurances on your part and therapy sessions on his to get back to your normal.

But sharing his scars helps, even if just a little, in understanding every part of him. You understand his loneliness and fear because you felt it too. Some nights you swear you can feel the trace of a burning knife down the front of your torso, or bits of glass piercing your palms, so you know. You know that ice packs help with the ache, that aloe vera gel soothes the itching irritation from tiny cuts, and regular Hatha Yoga provides just the right stretch to loosen aching joints. He gives you a funny look when you gift him an aloe Vera plant for his windowsill, but says nothing, agreeing to take care of it when you ask him to keep it alive. One night you notice him repeatedly rubbing his red, burning palms down the front of his jeans and lead him to sit down before taking a clean knife and slicing off one of the stems, cutting it open to spread across his cuts. That silent statement of understanding, of seeing him in a way no one else does, has him welling with tears.

So, sure, having to grow up with only signs of him, not knowing who he was aside from anonymous messages on your skin was pretty difficult. But now when you trace across the bridge of his nose over the line of jagged skin, he can do it right back to you, and both of you can’t help but feel a little grateful.

I think I went a little off topic idk man I was just saying stuff but I love the idea of soulmate!jason where you get each other’s scars and that results in you feeling the same/similar but lesser symptoms of them and therefore knowing how to deal with them for him without him having to tell you🤭if someone wants to write a fic like this I will gladly read it

#can you tell from all my writings that i’m a jason nose bridge scar fanatic idk i just think it’s hot #jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #batboys #asks #robin #batman #JT🫶

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alswosofavs · 2 days ago

Text

walking in a winter wonderland

AR23

Alessia Russo x Reader

Summary: You and less go to winter wonderland

You smiled up at the taller blonde stood beside you.

"What's the grin for baby?" she smiled back at you.

"I love you Less, you know that right?" in captured by the blue orbs staring down at you. You had decided to take Less to winter wonderland this year and for the first time in what felt like forever England had an actual decent snowfall. So here you two stood staring into each other eyes outside waiting in the line to enter.

"Of course I do. I love you too. So much" She giggled and then leant down to kiss you. Even though you and the striker had been together for over a year now you still got the same butterflies in your stomach whenever her lips touched yours. You weaved your hand into hers and pulled away smiling.

"What do you want to do first?" You crossed your fingers and hoped she would steer clear from the rides. For god knows what reason the blonde seemed to love the terrifying horrific rides they had at fun fairs and popups. The god awful slingshot was her favorite and you swore on your life she would never get you on it. However, you struggle to say no to her. Your girlfriend knowing exactly which tone to use and what way to look at you to make you melt and agree to anything she said. You knew you would find your way onto that monstrosity at some point this evening but hoped to prolong the torture as long as possible.

"I was thinking we could get some marshmallows?" You finally let out a deep breath you hadn't even noticed you were holding and smiled.

"Of course, anything for my star girl" star girl was a nickname you starting using for Alessia back after the 2022 euros. You remember so clearly watching her in the final match and tearing up seeing her with her medal. From that day on the name had stuck.

"Anything?" Less smirked. Normally if the blonde smirked you'd get excited but on this occasion you knew this wasn't just an average smirk this was the look of someone who was going to get you to agree to the hellish ride before even entering Hyde park.

"Babe no." You said firmly.

"I thought you said you loved me?" she pouted. Her first tactic of the night. You knew more would come and honestly wanted to see how far you could push the striker before you doubled down.

"I do but you won't go ice skating with me!" Your one and only attempt to get what you wanted from the night ended up in an eye roll from the blonde.

"So you want me to break my leg for Christmas? Baby you know how clumsy I am!"

"I'll catch you, I'm awesome at ice skating!" you exclaimed proudly hoping the idea of her in your arms would help sway the blondes decision.

"Well I will admit I like the idea of that" she smiled, your tactics working and distracting her from the idea of the ride.

You made it to the front of the line and scanned your tickets and enter. She took your hand and pulled you over to the familiar place where you could toast marshmallows.

"I'll get them" Less smiled and quickly went to get the sticks and the marshmallows. When she returned she handed you a stick and a marshmallow. "Don't get too excited" She laughed remembering your black marshmallow from the last time you two decided to toast them. Ignoring her you stuck the marshmallow into the flamed leaving it there for a second too long until it caught fire. You pulled it out and blew on it until the fire went out and you were left with yet again another burnt marshmallow.

"Whoops" You laughed looking at the inedible thing in your hand.

"Here have mine" She smiled and pushed her stick into your face. You opened your mouth and grabbed the marshmallow off of it.

"God that tastes good thank you" You smiled and leant to kiss her, she could taste the sugar on your tongue.

You both finished up your marshmallows and thankfully you managed to make it through the rest without incinerating them.

"Where to next angel?" Less smiled at you. The blonde wrapped her hand in yours.

"Please please please can we go ice skating? Please Less I know your scared but I promise that I'm here it'll be okay I promise" You looked up to her and widened your eyes stealing her tactics hoping she would break.

"Alright fine. But you're speaking to Renee when I'm in a boot and can't play" She joked. You leant down and kissed her.

"YES THANK YOU" You shouted pulling her over to the ice skating rink.

After you two paid and you got your skates you were on the ice. Alessia clung to the railing barely moving whilst you glided next to her laughing at her.

"Come on Lessi take my hand" you laughed as you reached out your hand to try and urge her off "I promise it's better on this ice!" technically not a lie.

"I really suck at this" she sighed but took your hand nonetheless. You eased her away from the edge and for a good few seconds she stood pretty sturdy without much help needed from you. Suddenly she started wobbling so you took your arm and threaded it around her waist to keep her upright.

"You were right it is easier up here" she started to get more confident and let you let go of her waist so you could skate more freely, choosing to skate around her in little circles. You finished facing her and took her hands and started to skate backwards guiding her and speeding her pace up.

"Trust me" You smiled at her, looking over your shoulder every so often to make sure the route was clear.

"Its not that I don't but we're going very fast," she smiled.

After gaining more confidence she finally let go. As soon as she did though she went toppling to the ground.

"I knew that would happen" she said making no attempt to pull herself up instead she sat on the ice with her arms up. Reluctantly you grabbed her arm and pulled her up and helped her get steady.

“Come on stargirl lets get you onto solid ground” You laughed and led her to the end.

“Where to now stargirl?” You smiled. You knew it was time.

“Well after that horrific fail,” she winked, “can we PLEASE go on the slingshot?” She had that look on her face. The one that made you crumble in a second.

“Lesssss” you whined.

“Pretty please? I'll wash the dishes for a week” and that was it. The striker knew the one thing you hated more than that ride was doing the dishes.

“Make it two and you have a deal.” You felt quite smug

“Really babe? Fine” she kissed you gently and then you two walked over to the dreaded ride.

Finally you reach the front of the line. The feeling of regret pooled in your gut. As you sat in the chair you grabbed less’ hand hard.

“Baby I know you're scared but you're hurting me” She tried to shake away from your grasp and failed.

“ If you can force me on here you can deal with some squeezing” You said bitterly but did release just a little bit, not actually wanting to hurt the blonde.

“Take off in 3,” you felt your grip tighten again “two” lessi squeezed your hand, a small subtle movement to show she was there, “one” you inhaled sharply as the ball you two were sat in got catapulted into the air. You swore you just about passed out but you could feel the blonde next to you keeping you centred.

“ALESSIA MIA THERESA RUSSO I FUCKING HATE YOU” you screamed. The striker just giggled and squeezed your hand.

“I love you baby” You sighed knowing how much this meant to her.

Once the spins and bouncing had subsided you were finally lowered and released onto flat ground. It took a little while to gain your footing again still shaking from the ride as you clung onto the taller girls hand.

“You're so cute when you're scared angel” she laughed

“Can we head back now?” you said with a yawn tired from the long day.

“Of course” She took your hand and you two walked off to the busy tube together.

“I had the best day with you stargirl”

“I had an even better day with you love”

================================================

Hey guys!! this is my first fic I'm a bit nervous releasing it as I've not really written anything before! Enjoy

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #arsenal #alessia russo #awfc #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #woso imagine #woso fanfics

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blue-jisungs · 1 day ago

Text

ancient runes and sea creatures

summary. leehan ends up in his worst nightmare - getting the perfect student into trouble

au. hogwarts!!!! ravenclaw!reader x hufflepuff!leehan

word count. 4722 (got a lil too carried away... )

warnings , extras. leehan is intimidated by reader ?? but in a like. impressed way?? also reader is a head girl prefect!!. a slightly suggestive implication at one point but like, its misinterpreted ++ a bunch of hogwart lingo and lore (?). use od leehans real name. mention of a creature that eats humans

author's note. a biiig thank u to @slytherinshua and @gluion for pushing me out of my writers block w this one!!! and esp moni, who tbh came up w this plot!!! i hhope u like it!!! it kinda took a self-indulent route for me (ancient runes as chinese characters haha... haha... and leehan being a mid student w niche hobbies vs the perfect student yn who! shocker! likes! studying... hahah....ha.....) ANYWHO. also love u to death @l3visbby for proofreading!! where would i be w/o u atp....

also i wanted to post one last thing in 2024!!! so i hope u enjoy it and get ready bc ive been cooking <3

leehan fixed his glasses, fingers brushing against the coarse pages of his favorite book. then, he glanced at his notebook. filled from top to bottom with neat, medium sized, handwritten text. here and there were loose sketches and photographs attached with fish shaped paper clips.

the hufflepuff boy looked up at his gryffindor friends - jaehyun and woonhak. they were chatting about something loudly, the sound of their voices blending in with the noise in the corridor.

sunlight peeked from behind the windows leehan was leaning against, making him feel even more indulged in his own world.

“we’ll keep going. don’t wanna be late for potions!” jaehyun suddenly announced in his ear and ruffled his hair “see you, donghyun!”

he just smiled in return, woonhak having goodbye.

before returning to his book, he let out a small sigh and started looking at the students passing him by. a lot of friends giggling and talking, some people studying or snacking on colorful candy.

then, as if a lightning struck him, he tensed upon noticing you.

you were walking with fast pace yet not hurried one. the navy and grey colored tie rustled on the wind, your hair waving gently. a small frown was painting on your graceful features.

“what do you mean sungho is not showing up? i need everyone there” you asked, glancing at your ravenclaw friend for explanation. however, they did not have any.

“no idea, y/n! he just told me to tell you and wandered off… you have to–” they started.

“i don’t have to do anything. we have to cooperate if we want everything work out” with a scoff, you turned your gaze away and locked eyes with leehan for a mere moment.

he felt blood rushing to his cheeks, quickly glancing down at his book. you looked scary. no, intimidating.

“this thing isn’t here by accident” you gently tapped your head girl badge with pride. “let’s go to class now. i’ll catch sungho later”

leehan didn’t even realize he was holding in a breath - only when the sound of your voice faded away, he released it.

he tilted his head and smiled softly, flipped through the pages. he only stopped when he saw a detailed print of a basilisk. quite terrifying yet devilishly smart creature.

leehan closed the book and packed his belongings, slowly going towards his classroom.

“oh come on, don’t be such a loner!” riwoo’s whines reached nearby standing student’s ears, causing them to look over at the hufflepuffs. leehan cleared his throat and let out a sigh of defeat.

“fine. who else is going? you know i don’t enjoy crowded places in particular…” he started but his friend already started pushing him towards the exit.

“well you, me, jaehyun, woonhak… and, drumroll please! yes, you guessed it! two infamous slytherins, park sungho and han taesan!” riwoo grinned. leehan nodded, satisfied. that’s a perfect amount of people. “and hanbin”

“just hanbin?” leehan frowned, suspicious. riwoo smiled awkwardly, forcing his friend to move faster.

“and sohee!” riwoo hesitated.

“and…?” leehan grunted, halting in place.

“that’s all! i promise!” sanghyeok put his hand over his heart “hufflepuff’s honor!”

leehan just scoffed and followed his friend to three broomsticks. it was weekend, after all. going out with more than two people once in a while won’t hurt him, surely.

it was warm inside, the smell of delicious food hitting his nostrils. donghyun was quick to spot his friends (and their friends). lately jaehyun was detachable from sohee and hanbin.

eight butterbeers were already waiting on the table, sticking to the wood.

“you made it, woah! you have my respect!” woonhak, the youngest, joked. sungho patted the seat next to him and leehan sat down, smiling awkwardly.

“and you? shouldn’t you be on the prefect meeting or whatever?” taesan asked suddenly, sungho rolling his eyes.

“i should. but if i skip one, nothing will happen” he shrugged, reaching for his butterbeer.

“y/n seemed pretty upset about it” the words slipped out of leehan’s lips before he could realize it. everyone looked at him, a bit shocked, so he quickly added: “i heard it when she was passing me by. nothing crazy, it’s not like i talk to her or something”

the mere thought of standing near you terrified him, not to mention talking. donghyun didn’t know how sungho – or anyone, really – was doing that.

“she’s being dramatic. miss perfect… she decided to be in charge of organizing almost everything this year, at least it feels like it” sungho mumbled.

“yeah, it’s crazy how she manages to do it all. well, let’s just hope she won’t cast melfors jinx on you” jaehyun teased

“his head is as big as a pumpkin already, though” taesan snickered and was met with sungho’s fist on his shoulder.

you were sitting on the grass, crossing out the ideas that seemed foolish. the weather was cold, yet snow hasn’t fallen yet. even though it was november, you were in charge of organising events for students that are going to stay at hogwarts during christmas. you being one of them.

well, it wasn’t fully your responsibility - other prefects were supposed to help.

“stupid sungho…” you mumbled, wrapping your scarf tighter around your neck.

you looked up and adored the view in front of you. the last of leaves falling off trees, being swept by wind. here and there you could see some students but during this cold season, majority preferred to stay inside. then, you noticed a particular silhouette.

someone was squatting dangerously close to the lake.

you stood up, packing your belongings in a rush.

as you approached the reckless student, you noticed the yellow and black colors of hufflepuff. of course. you opened your mouth to scold their behavior but you heard a quiet murmur.

“hm? how did you get here, little one? you belong to the island. you couldn’t have possibly swam over here”

you leaned a bit forward and peeked over the hufflepuff student’s shoulder. he was gently reaching his pointer finger out to a bowtruckle.

the small, green creature was staring at the stranger, big brown eyes blinking slowly. it slowly meet half-way with the person’s finger.

“you’re not as shy as you friends” a low chuckle made you smile “i should get you back there… but how?”

the person rose their head up and looked around. the bowtruckle pointed at you.

“oh?” the student tilted their head and looked through their shoulder, meeting your curious gaze. you gasped, getting caught.

the guy’s eyes widened, lips tightening.

“oh” he mumbled. you frowned, his features looking somehow similar.

the hufflepuff boy stood up, acting as if he did not just hid the small creature in his pocket. he tried to walk away but you stopped him.

“hey! it’s dangerous to be out here” you cleared your throat. the guy stopped in his tracks, back facing you “do you have an idea what kind of beasts are there?”

a soft smile cracked on his lips, eyes trained on the ground.

“kelpies, grindylows, selkies… and oh, the giant squid. man, they are so…” he whispered and you were certain he thought his words didn’t reach you. yet, they did. you smiled, realizing he was probably another creature-obsessed student.

“anyway, i do appreciate your care towards this little fella. however, it would be better if hagrid took care of him” you looked at him with a straight face. the hufflepuff boy kept avoiding eye contact and failed to notice the silly bowtruckle escaping from his pocket.

the green creature ran down his pants and started making circles around you.

“i, uh… i don’t know how to hold him” you scoffed, trying to catch it.

“like this. make sure not to tug the leaf on its head…” he breathed out and caught the bowtruckle, holding it in two hands.

awkward silence fell between you two, the boy stubbornly keeping his head low.

“i’ll keep going” he mumbled and wandered off to hagrid’s hut, leaving you puzzled and somehow intrigued.

“hey, chill out” sungho nudged your shoulder, casing your fountain pen to jerk and leave a crooked line. you glared at him.

“i would if someone helped me. i still have to come up with ideas for the three last days and i need to turn them in to mcgonagall by friday” you huffed and tossed your notebook aside.

sungho puffed his cheeks and looked over at taesan for help. he just shrugged, carelessly tucking his hands into his pockets.

“don’t look at me. i’m not even a prefect” his cat-alike smirk made you even more frustrated.

“okay, well… maybe try asking some students what would they want to do?” sungho proposed, scanning your face to gauge your reaction. you let out a small huff.

“see, here we go. thanks. now i just have to ask around who’s staying…” you groaned and noted down the idea, closing your notebook. “but i’ll do that later. now i’ll go, i promised professor snape to help him clean the classroom. a reckless student just… caused a mess, so to say”

the exchanged amused looks and you raised your eyebrows.

“what?”

“nothing. have fun” sungho snorted. his gaze suddenly snapped up to someone else and he waved. you noticed three people walking up.

one of them looking similar.

“hey, myungjae, do you happen to know someone who’s staying at hogwarts during christmas?” sungho asked, leaning on the table. your fingers twitched at the sight of him almost spilling a cup of juice with his elbow.

“well, uh… our leehan and ricky, i think. and zhanghao. and hanbin, he promised to stay with them so they wouldn’t feel lonely” a boy in gryffindor uniform answered and looked at you, a wide smile painting on his lips.

“you’re staying?” taesan asked. you looked at the only hufflepuff boy in the group. so that was leehan?

“yeah” he answered shortly, purposefully averting his gaze from you.

“why–?” taesan kept asking and you just sighed.

“is there anything you would like to do? during the break. i need to organize events for students so i figured it would be the best idea to ask them personally” you crossed your arms.

everyone looked at the guy, his head tilted down and eyes glued to his shoes.

“what’s up with him?” the other gryffindor student whispered.

you waited for a moment before shaking your head. that seemed to work on the boy - he finally looked at you, shyly.

“it’s a hard question, i know. just… hit me up once you figure it out” you sent him a soft smile and went your way.

“what’s up with you? is the potion blowing up in your face still on your mind?” jaehyun laughed and nudged leehan’s shoulder.

“so that was him after all” taesan snickered.

“chill out, donghyun. y/n is really cool, don’t need to be all tensed up around her” sungho teased. leehan looked around, scanning the great hall. some people were looking their way - but that was probably nothing serious, right? just a bunch of losers, a prefect and the head girl prefect that’s an all a student.

“earth to leehan! why are you staying here?” jaehyun asked, waving his hand before the hufflepuff boy’s eyes.

a playful smile painted on leehan’s lips before he explained his reasons to his friends.

rushing through the dark hallway, you pressed your textbook closer to your chest. it was way past the curfew and you hoped flich was done with his late patrols on this side of the castle. you just happened to get too focused on ancient runes and–

“oof-!”

you felt the impact of bumping into something and almost landed on the ground when a strong hand prevented you from falling. you squeezed your eyes, the darkness not allowing you fully to recognize the stranger.

“y/n…?” his soft voice rang familiar and you glanced at his uniform. the yellow badge with a proud badger adorned his chest.

“leehan, right?” you scoffed and he helped you regain balance, taking a step back. that way, the moonlight sneaking through the windows fell on his face, highlighting his features.

he fixed his glasses, brows slightly furrowed.

“what are you doing here?” you whispered, blinking slowly. even though your prefect instincts kicked in, you were genuinely curious.

this boy had just a mysterious aura to him. always so aloof, almost distant. nowadays, you caught yourself noticing him, usually alone reading a book or doing something. something, indeed. just like when you saw him near the lake. he always seemed to be looking for some kind of creatures. you couldn’t help but wonder what he was up to.

“i… uh, i was researching” he smiled gently. his gaze was fixed on you - unlike other times. maybe he didn’t feel so shy now that the midnight darkness was surrounding you two. you thought it was cute. “and, uh… you?”

“ancient runes. they are quite relaxing to me, it’s just… i write them all over to remember how they look. once i nail that i feel like i can read them properly. but just the writing itself… is, yeah. time consuming but fun” you smiled and nudged his arm gently “let’s go together, our dorms are in the same direction”

he nodded and followed you, the quiet sound of footsteps echoing through the corridor.

“did you think about the question? it’s okay if you haven’t, i was just curious” you asked, glancing at him.

“personally, strolling around hogwarts at such hour is nice. i wouldn’t mind it if i was able to do it without the possibility of getting in trouble” he answered. you agreed.

“i haven’t thought about that. hm. maybe it’ll be possible since there’s gonna be less students. i’ll talk to mcgonagall about it” you hummed “thanks”

“and, uh, did you get it all done? like, the events” his voice was quiet. he wasn’t shy but more so, he was cautiously picking his words.

“yes but there’s not going to be much. people i asked didn’t seem interested” you sighed.

“it’s a shame, you’ve been working hard to come up with anything” leehan sent you a reassuring smile. a strange glint sparkled in his eye, some kind of sadness.

“what can i do? i guess they want to be alone, apparently” you scoffed.

“meow”

you two froze, feet glued to the floor. leehan looked at you, wide eyed.

before you could realize, he was pulling you to hide behind a column. with your head squished against his chest, you could hear his heart pounding as if it was about to rip out of his ribcage.

his hand naturally rested on your head, the soft fanning of his breath against your hair.

the sound of footsteps was coming closer and closer as you tried to think of something.

a sudden beam of light caused leehan to squint his eyes, pulling you slightly closer.

“what an absurd! not only it is after curfew, you are also… doing things that should be kept private! this place is coming to an end! who would have thought, students… of opposite-!”

“what? no! it’t not like that!” you choked out, turning around on your heel.

“mrs l/n?!” filch gasped, and mrs norris’ loud meow was almost soul ripping “out of all people! you?”

“no, it’s not like that! we just…” leehan’s voice was quiet, almost stuttering.

“yes? explain your red faces then! someone who was caught wouldn’t be such a blushing mess! dear merlin, what is going on with those youngsters nowadays!” the caretaker whined.

“we weren’t doing anything, mr filch! we just- we tried to hide! from you, it is. not from you as in… we didn’t-” you tried to explain. when you turned around to check up on the ravenclaw boy, he was indeed as red as the gryffindor representative color. his eyes were glued to the ground and you could swear you saw sweat dripping down his temple.

“detention!”

his eyes snapped up, wide as two prophecy orbs. panic written all over his face, fingers fiddling.

“it’s my fault. let’s not bring y/n into this” he spoke up, swallowing hard.

“how so? i see you two. not just you, boy” mr filch said with an attitude, picking up mrs norris. “i’m not repeating myself. detention. madam pince needs help in the library, so it’s just perfect”

“but-” leehan tried to cut in but the cat interrupted him with an aggressive hiss.

“now go! before i take points from your houses!” the caretaker tsked and you ran off, grabbing his hand. you could only hear distant murmurs “the head girl… youngsters are getting worse and worse each year…”

once out of his reach, almost at the ravenclaw dormitory, you realized you’re still holding his hand. leehan halted, gasping.

“i’m so sorry, y/n! i don’t know what’s gotten into him but i’ll do it myself. please, don’t bother–” the hufflepuff boy started rambling, avoiding your gaze. was he scared you’re angry at him?

you gently put your hand on his arm.

“hey”

leehan slowly looked into your eyes; however, just for a split second. his breath was heavy in the silence.

“it’s alright. i can handle one detention. in the library? it sounds like a pleasure to me” you huffed, trying to cheer him up. poor boy, he must’ve really felt guilty. “he got so pissed because he has never felt the touch of a woman. mr filch got jealous, that’s all”

you chuckled but leehan remained quiet. well, maybe that was a failed attempt at trying to cheer him up.

“i, uh. anyway, i’m sorry too. don’t beat yourself about it, okay?” you whispered, patting his arm. leehan’s small nod made you content. “sleep well, leehan”

he felt your hand slip off his shoulder.

maybe if he wasn’t too ashamed to look up, he would’ve noticed the way you looked back at him before entering the dormitory.

leehan was standing between the bookshelves, enjoying the smell of books. the library was quiet, thanks to the majority of students having left already. even madam pince wandered off to somewhere.

“hi”

he turned his head to the side and was shocked to see you. out of your ravenclaw uniform, at that.

“hi” he whispered and quickly returned his gaze to the book he was holding. he gulped nervously, his adam’s apple bobbing.

it was his worst nightmare, actually. bringing the all-star student into detention with him. even though the fault was technically on both sides, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. you should be resting and not…

“how’s it going?” you asked quietly, standing next to him. your back faced the bookshelf he was facing, side profiles matching.

“it’s quite pleasant, to be frank” he mumbled in response “you didn’t have to come here”

you scoffed and scanned all the books, laying in messy piles. they really needed reorganizing.

“would i really be able to call myself a student without getting in trouble even once?” you snickered, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “i told you not to worry about it, leehan”

silence fell between you two, only the sound of him flipping the pages bringing warm comfort.

“it’s donghyun, actually” he said softly with a twinge of happiness. you cocked your head and glanced at him, grabbing a random book. “leehan is a nickname that just… stayed. donghyun is my real name”

“it’s pretty” it slipped out of your lips before you could realize, so you just hung your head low and decided to think of a strategy on how to resort the books. leehan smirked and put the book he was holding on one of the shelves. to break the awkward tension you accidentally created, you cleared your throat “uh, did you take care of that bowtruckle back then?”

“bowtruckles aren’t really my thing so i took it to hagrid. he promised me to get it back to its home tree” he hummed, reaching for another book. he ran his fingers over the navy colored cover, the remaining letters of a handwritten title barely there anymore.

“so what is, then?” you asked.

even though you didn’t have to be quiet, you two kept talking softly. you couldn’t put your finger on it but maybe it was the overall atmosphere of the library. alas, you wouldn’t say you minded. it was comforting.

“sea creatures” donghyun answered with a soft sigh. did you irritate him?

“sorry. you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. i’m just curious about you” you mumbled.

your shoulders were touching and you felt his arm move now and then whenever he reached out to put away a book.

leehan hummed in deep thought, far away with his thoughts - hence, he didn’t hear you.

he never would have thought that he would be conversing with you. you were just so out of his league and intimidated him. good grades, friends with everyone… but deep down it was your organization skills. you just had it all together. despite all those side things you took care of, you still managed to find time to study. heck, you even liked it? he recalled your conversation from the hallway. what did you say about ancient runes…?

“they are quite relaxing to me, it’s just… i write them all over to remember how they look. once i nail that i feel like i can read them properly. but just the writing itself… is, yeah. time consuming but fun.”

how can one find thousands of new icons to learn, memorise and remember… relaxing. he was a bit jealous that you did it so effortlessly.

and sure, he heard you complaining about tests and exams. but you still passed with ease. unlike him, who no matter how much he studied, still barely passed.

“ouch!”

a soft thump of a book falling brought him back to life.

he leaned down to pick it up but only bumped against your forehead.

blood rushed to his cheeks out of embarrassment. but you just giggled and took the book, putting it back.

he must have been zoned out for a while because he noticed you did one of the shelves already.

you grabbed another book. it had a black cover and no title whatsoever. you started flipping pages to check what even it’s about. leehan, who was peeking through your shoulder, saw a glimpse of an interesting drawing.

“the giant squid” he placed his finger before you closed the book. you were startled a bit and looked around to meet his face quite close to yours.

yet, his brown eyes were fixated on the creature.

“do you know it’s semi-domesticated? on the chocolate frog cards its described as “the bane” of hogwarts’ students who wanted to go for a “dip in the lake”. it’s so dumb. first of all, it lives very deep in the lake, so even a small dip wouldn’t hurt. and secondly, it’s harmless. it…” he hesitated and a shy smile formed on his lips. you couldn't help but smile as well “it even allows students to feed it bread”

“really?” you asked in disbelief, turning your gaze to look at the drawing of a giant squid. donghyun’s low hum of confirmation made shivers ran down your spine.

“toast to be specific” he added and you felt a movement.

leehan stepped closer and you could feel his body almost pressing against yours, his breath softly fanning over your cheek. the hufflepuff leaned closer to read the information. right, of course.

“but you know, it must be because its magical. true giant squids, architeuthis i think, wouldn’t be able to stand our lake’s lack of salinity. and normally, it wouldn’t digest food” donghyun shrugged. you didn’t know what was happening to you - you couldn’t prevent your smile from growing. listening to him rambling about his niche sea creature interest really warmed your heart.

oh, this boy got you whipped.

“i think it’s a subspecies. like kneazles and mundane cats” leehan added, his finger tracing the black inked illustration of the squid’s tentacles.

your breath hitched. you wanted to reply, to throw a comment. but you realized you had no knowledge in this discipline, making you even more intrigued with donghyun.

“i really want to see it one day. maybe in summer. sometimes it plays with students, you know? lays out its tentacles out of the lake and just… lets the students mess with it” he tsked “hopefully…”

“i’d like to see that” you giggled. you heard a faint gasp and glanced at him. his eyes snapped back at you, as if he just realized he’s been rambling.

“i’ll take you with me, then. i planned on going at the end of the year, just before leaving for summer break” he shot you a soft smile, small crinkles forming around his eyes (and you swore your knees just went weak).

“i’m in” you grinned and gently moved his finger out of the book. then, you closed it and stood on your tiptoes to put it on the higher shelf.

however, you couldn’t reach.

“let me help you” donghyun’s tender voice once again rang from behind you.

soon enough, you felt his warm hand on your hip as he took the book from your hand and placed it for you. for a mere moment you could feel his chest pressing against your back, the smell of his cologne invading your senses like a swarm of butterflies whirling around you.

you didn't even realize when the hufflepuff boy was back in his position, putting back the rest of the books. and further on ramling about sea creatures.

“there was also a case of the giant squid helping a student that had fallen into the lake…”

sitting on a nearby bench, you were writing the ancient runes to form a sentence. actually, you were writing in your journal about today’s date with donghyun. his own notebook was laying next to you - he was afraid to get it wet.

“ah, y/n, quick! a grindylow!” he yelped and you shot to your feet, dropping your journal onto the bench. with snow crunching underneath your feet, you sprinted towards the hufflepuff boy. he had his scarf and hat on, pink nose peeking from the layers.

“how did it come here?” you asked curiously, quickly joining his side.

leehan's gloved hand grabbed yours and pointed at the quickly swimming creature. it was barely visible due to its dark color blending with the green shade of the lake but you could see its outline.

“my bet is looking for food. they like fish. or maybe it was bored. or…” donghyun hesitated, looking over at you. you shifted your gaze at him, looking at his big brown eyes hidden behind his glasses. “or… it came here for its prey!”

donghyun suddenly wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground and spinning around. you squealed, taken by a surprise.

“they don’t eat humans!” you whined when he put you down.

“uh… sure…” he chuckled and reached to the pocket of his puffy jacket. he grabbed some dried algae and threw it into the water. you moved closer to him, suddenly scared. interlocking arms with his, you snuggled onto his side.

“it eats people?” you asked quietly as you saw the creature swimming closer to the food. its head poked out of the water surface, small, black, shiny eyes looking at you before taking a bite of the algae.

leehan snickered and grabbed your chin, eyes locking with you.

“only cuties like you” he grinned and moved his yellow and black scarf out of his face. then, he leaned closer and kissed you softly. even though his lips were cold, you felt warmth spreading through your body. you smiled into the kiss and pulled him even closer by the scarf.

who would have thought that two days after the detention you’d gain the courage to ask him out.

he pulled back slightly, first looking at your lips with a smirk and then back in your eyes.

“and humans. but only the grown grindylows and that one is still a baby” he grinned. and before you could even roll your eyes, he pulled your ravenclaw-colored hat down and covered half of your face. with a giggle, he pulled you closer.

masterlist <3

taglist. @slytherinshua ,, @weird-bookworm

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getobitchs · 21 hours ago

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What You Took From Me - R. S.

✧.* content warning : angst, fluff ig?

✧.* w/c : 1.07k

✧.* n/a : nothin

✧.* tagline : @sugurus-thoughts ; (text me to be on the next tagline)

₊ ⊹🪻 ✧ ˚i

The Heian era was a time of elegance and tradition, where the beauty of the cherry blossoms mirrored the fleeting moments of happiness that mortals clung to. For you, life had once been simple, your days spent tending to the small garden by your family’s home, your nights bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. Until him.

Sukuna.

You had met him by chance — or so you had believed. A man of devastating beauty and an aura that sent chills down your spine, he was both terrifying and magnetic. Sukuna wasn’t just a man; he was a force of nature. A god among mortals, cloaked in an ever-present air of danger and power.

Yet, despite the fear he inspired, he had chosen you. Out of all the women in the land, it was you who had caught his eye. And in an act of defiance against both his nature and the world that feared him, he had married you.

At first, you had been afraid, unsure of his intentions. But Sukuna — when he wasn’t reigning over curses or instilling fear — had been a surprisingly gentle husband. He brought you rare flowers, sat beside you while you worked in the garden, and listened as you spoke of your dreams and fears. He wasn’t one to smile often, but when he did, it was like the sun breaking through a storm.

You fell in love with him, despite the warnings whispered by the wind and the shadowy aura that clung to him like a second skin. And for a time, you were happy.

But time was unkind to mortals.

Your health began to wane, your once-strong body betraying you as the years passed. You tried to hide it, to keep the growing weakness in your limbs and the ache in your chest a secret, but Sukuna knew. He always knew.

He watched helplessly as you grew weaker, his frustration manifesting in the crackle of his cursed energy. He could destroy entire villages, topple kingdoms, and command legions of curses, but he couldn’t stop the inevitable march of time. He couldn’t save you.

You died one spring morning, the scent of cherry blossoms heavy in the air. Sukuna had held you in his arms as you took your last breath, his four crimson eyes fixed on your face as though he could will you back to life.

“I’ll find you,” he had murmured, his voice breaking in a way you had never heard before. “No matter where you go, I’ll find you again.”

And then you were gone.

Centuries passed.

For years after your death, Sukuna clung to his memories of you, reliving every fleeting moment of happiness he had shared with you. He tried to forget, to bury your image beneath the blood and chaos of his reign, but no matter how much he destroyed, no matter how many lives he claimed, your face always lingered in the corners of his mind.

When he was eventually sealed, he welcomed the silence. If the world had nothing left to offer him, perhaps oblivion was the only answer.

But fate is cruel, and the threads of destiny are never truly severed.

In 2018, Sukuna awakened, dragged back into the world through forbidden sorcery. It was a strange new time, filled with loud machines, flashing lights, and a world that had forgotten his name. He should have reveled in the opportunity to spread fear and reclaim his throne, yet his mind was elsewhere.

The centuries had dulled nothing. He still thought of you. Your laughter, your touch, the way you had looked at him as though he weren’t a monster. He had lost you once, and the thought of living without you again filled him with an ache he couldn’t name.

Then, one ordinary evening, he saw you.

You were standing outside a café, bathed in the soft glow of a neon sign, your laughter carrying over the hum of the city. Time seemed to freeze. Sukuna’s crimson eyes locked onto you, his heart — something he had long believed dead — thudding painfully in his chest.

It was you.

You looked different, your modern clothes and styled hair unfamiliar, but there was no mistaking you. The shape of your smile, the way you tilted your head as you laughed — it was the same as it had been centuries ago.

For a moment, he could only stand there, staring. He had spent so long believing he would never see you again that the sight of you now felt like a dream.

You didn’t notice him at first, engrossed in your conversation with a friend. But then your eyes flickered toward him, and the world shifted.

You froze, your laughter dying in your throat as your gaze met his. There was no recognition in your eyes, but something passed between you — a spark, a faint pull that made your heart stutter.

Sukuna crossed the street without hesitation, his movements as smooth and predatory as they had been in the Heian era. He stopped in front of you, towering over you, his presence commanding your full attention.

“Can I help you?” you asked, your voice polite but wary.

His gaze softened as he took you in, his crimson eyes scanning your face for any hint of familiarity. “Do you believe in fate?” he asked, his voice low and resonant.

You blinked, startled by the question. “I… I guess?”

His lips curled into a smirk, though it lacked the malice it usually carried. “You should.”

Your friend nudged you, murmuring something about him being strange, but you didn’t move. There was something about him that felt… familiar.

“Have we met before?” you asked, your voice hesitant.

His smirk faltered for just a moment, replaced by something more vulnerable. “In another life, perhaps.”

You didn’t understand what he meant, but there was something in his gaze that made your chest ache, a strange and inexplicable feeling of loss and longing.

Sukuna didn’t press further. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to frighten you or risk losing you again. But as he turned to leave, he glanced over his shoulder. “We’ll meet again,” he said, echoing the promise you had made to him centuries ago.

You stood there, watching him disappear into the crowd, your heart heavy with an emotion you couldn’t name.

And for the first time in centuries, Sukuna felt hope.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk x you #more sukuna fluff bc why tf not #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen ryomen

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thedisc0spider · 2 days ago

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Hi I have a Spencer request🙏 maybe either reader meeting his family or Spencer meeting reader's family and they're all giving them like knowing glances and talking about how cute they are and their family think they're just like the coolest❤️❤️

Seasons Greetings

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Summary: the request BUT in honor of the holiday season I have made it Christmas

Warnings: fem!reader, Christmas?, reader has the perfect family of our dreams so… sorry..😢

Genre: fluffy Christmas :)

Point of view: 2nd person

A/n: I have decided to reappear for the holidays… I’ve missed you guys AH! Finally doing requests like I promised to a month ago…😅 lmk if I should do a part two of the next day? Could be cute idk

————————————————————————————————————

Working at Smosh is great, so is working with your boyfriend, you essentially get to hang out and play games with the person you care for the absolute most.

Being an actor was always your dream, so having a steady acting job that also allows time for auditions on the side is perfect.

However, the one downside of working at smosh with your boyfriend is that your family already has… an idea of Spencer.

Would you say that you’re embarrassed? Absolutely not, you’ve always loved his humor, it was one of your favorite things about Spencer since the moment you met. In fact, it made you fall in love with him.

This isn’t the first impression you had hoped for though, neither you nor Spencer had control over their idea of him thus far due to the fact that you both weren’t even in the room when the first impression occurred.

countless nights you had spent awake at ungodly hours watching every video with you or Spencer from the point of view of your family.

Maybe this was obsessive and absolutely insane, but you couldn’t help it. Spencer had no idea about this, and you had no intention of telling him either.

Now, Spencer was coming to meet your family properly this Christmas, which was so wonderful and exciting yet terrifying and nerve wracking.

Your mother had promised you over the phone that they hadn’t all formed an opinion on him already, but you knew better than that.

Knock, knock.

You make your way towards the door, opening it to a smiling Spencer with takeout in hand. You smile back at him, anxiety seemingly dissipating out of your being at the sight.

Later into the night, you and Spencer were curled up on the couch, eating Chinese food, which is now placed on the coffee table, and watching “Family Guy” (his choice). His hand gently ran up and down against your arm while his head nuzzled against your neck.

“Only two days until Christmas.” Spencer stated, moving to look over at you. He studied your expression, it was hard to tell what you were feeling.

You nod, “I know, are you excited to finally meet my family?” You say this in a joking tone, but a part of you is searching for a real answer.

He adjusts his glasses slightly before speaking, “well, if they’re anything like you, then no.” This lightened your mood, while also getting an eye roll out of you.

Both of your laughs echo through your apartment, you push him off of you playfully. “No- okay, okay. I’m sorry.” He laughs, pulling you back towards him.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Okay, you want my serious answer?”

You nod.

“Yes, I am excited, if not a little frightened to be completely honest.” He admits.

You shake your head, running your fingers gently through his curls. “Spence, you don’t have to be scared. My mom loves everyone and my dad pretty much thinks you’re the funniest guy alive already.”

Spencer tilts his head, “he does?“

“Yeah.”

“Has he, like… watched our videos?” You could tell this freaked Spencer out a little, one could only imagine which insane jokes he was beginning to regret.

You didn’t want to bring it up or say anything, this was supposed to be something you exclusively stressed about. You knew the second Spencer heard this he would start overthinking.

“Hey, I know that look. Stop it. Yes, they all watch the channels. They really do seem to love it, though.” You scoot closer to him, tucking your legs under you so you can face him. “You will see, my brother is just like me, they’re used to the humor.”

He still looks stunned, despite your reassurance. “Yeah, okay.”

You let out a sympathetic laugh, “aw, buddy, I promise it’s gonna go fine.” You pull his head into your chest, rubbing his back to comfort him, the last thing you wanted was for him to get into his own head.

“Why do I have to make so many misogynistic jokes?” He sigh, laughing at his own immaturity.

“They know it isn’t real, it’s very obvious. Besides, we can worry about that in a few days. For now let’s just relax.”

-time skip, Christmas Eve-

You arrived at your parents house in the evening, the chill breeze hitting your cheeks as you stepped out of your car. Your scarf was assisting in keeping your face warm, although it did not quite suffice.

Spencer, ever the gentleman, closed the car door behind you just as he had opened it before to let you out. As you made your way up the door, Spencer’s grip tightened around your hand.

You knock, this is it.

Your mother pulls the both of you in for a tight hug, something Spencer hadn’t expected by the look of his eyes widening.

“Oh, you must be Spencer! It’s so good to see you both!” She holds on for a bit too long, “don’t be shy, come in! Oh, (y/n), I have so much to tell you about your aunt Carol! Her hair is bright purple.” She looked at you like it was the most serious news she’d ever relayed.

You chuckle, looking back at Spencer. “It’s nice to see you too, mom.” You guide Spencer into the warm house.

“Thank you so much for having me, you have a lovely home.” Spencer says with a nervous smile.

“Oh, don’t be so formal! Spencer, why don’t you go into the living room, I need (y/n)’s help in the kitchen.” She begins pulling you away as you shoot your boyfriend an apologetic yet reassuring look.

Spencer was now stranded, he sat on your parent’s couch hesitantly. He didn’t want to see like he was making himself too at home. For a few minutes alone, Spencer pondered his next interactions with your family.

He was interrupted when a large man entered the room, “my boy!” Spencer looked around as to say ‘who, me?’ And once he realized he was the only one in the room he stood. “Well, I assume you’re the famous Spencer Agnew? The one dating my daughter?”

Spencer immediately swallowed, now realizing that he was meeting your father for the first time. “Oh- yes, that’s me. It’s nice to meet you.” He nodded.

Your father approached Spencer, towering over him, as most do. Spencer looked up at the man, he reached out his hand to shake. Spencer immediately reciprocated.

“Nice to meet you too, although I feel like I already have. I’ve seen the videos, you’re a funny kid.” He plops onto the couch, putting his feet up on the ottoman.

“Thank you, that means a lot.” Spencer smiles, gently sitting down on the sofa as well.

An awkward silence.

Spencer searches for something to say, anything. He hates when his mind goes blank during conversation, which never happens when he’s comfortable and with people he knows well, he is not used to this.

“So, the weather-“

“Okay, dinner is ready.”

Saved by the bell, you and your boyfriend sit around the table with your family. Your younger brother now joins you for the meal, steak and potatoes.

“This is really good, mom.” You compliment her before taking a sip of your wine. You ask your brother, “how’s school?”

“Pretty good, Jeremy finally traded me that Pokémon card I wanted.” Before you know it, him and Spencer are engaged in a thrilling conversation, ending in him promising to look at your brother’s card collection after dinner.

You can see in your father’s eyes how much he admires the fact that Spencer is entertaining this, your brother was hard to get along with so when he likes someone it’s meaningful. Not many people are willing to accommodate his special interests and demanding attitude, but Spencer had always been very patient with children… and with you.

“So, you two met through work? That’s how your grandparents met, you know. They always said ‘if you can work together without killing each other, you’re ready for marriage.’ Oh, I can just picture you walking down the aisle in that dress you cut out in that little scrap book of yours. I know, I said I wouldn’t snoop anymore but I can’t help it! Besides, it would look beautiful on you. Speaking of weddings, did you get the invitation for your cousin Linda’s engagement party? Guess who she didn’t invite? Aunt Jane! Oh, I still just have so much to tell you, but I digress. Honey, could you pass me the salt?”

The other four of you at the table exchanged glances for a moment, holding in your laughs. Your mother had always been a rambler, it was nice to get Spencer in on that family inside-joke now.

After dinner, and the Pokémon card museum, you both unloaded your luggage with the help of your father and headed upstairs toward your childhood room.

As you said goodnight to your parents, You felt a weight lift off. It’s over, and it went amazingly.

You and Spencer were alone now, you looked at each other and both sighed. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

“No, you’re right,” he brings you in for an embrace, “that went super well. Thanks for bringing me.”

“Of course, Spence. I feel closer to you now that I’ve shown you a big part of my life.” You pull away, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

“Me too, that was fun.” His gaze shifts to the room around you. “It might be hard for the both of us to fit in that twin bed though.”

You grimace, “yeah, I didn’t think about that…”

Spencer makes his way through the room, studying each surface. “What’s this? Ooo, the famous wedding scrapbook!” He smirks at you, giggling to himself.

“Spencer, put that down! I’m serious.”

#fanfiction #spencer agnew x reader #smosh cast #smosh games #spencer agnew #smosh spencer #smosh x reader #x reader #smosh pit #smosh

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squeakadeeks · 23 hours ago

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merry christmas my gift to you is telling a terrible tale since I think enough time has passed (ie over a decade) that i can tell you this without exploding.

when i was like 12 and starting out with art, i was so excited to open commissions just like a ✨real artist✨ and it being deviantart in the 2010's, within about a month i got someone asking for furry inflation fetish art. being a kid and having no sex ed, let alone the insanely specific sex ed that would be needed for me to understand what that is, i didnt flag it as inappropriate. I thought it would just be a "cool anatomy exercise like ✨real✨ artists do!" i was so ready and i took it on for 200 llamabucks or w/e the onsite currency was at the time. i did it, i drew it, whatever. well sure enough after posting it i quickly learned what furry inflation art actually was and i was mortified. being in like.....7th grade i was still terrified of sex and i was worried about my parents finding out so i took the entire sketchbook and buried it under my mattress. I lived in fear for months afterwards and felt like i deserved to be shot for falling for it and making something sinful.

the proceeding events happen in a confusing haze because my mother is an utterly puzzling woman so some suspension of disbelief is required but believe me when i say. i wish this was apocryphal. I dont know how or why, but some how some way my mom not only finds the sketchbook under my mattress, goes through the entire thing, finds the one singular offending sketch, then in a concerning mystery i will invest not a single iota of effort to solve due to the implications, immediately clocked that it was sexual fetish art. the one saving grace of a spherical wolf being niche enough that people wouldnt understand the dark deed i had done was out the window. She rips the page out, goes downstairs and parades it to the rest of the family like: "oh my god! look what ____ drew! lets all look at this! lets all look at this right now and laugh at it!" even with just this, i'm full on bursting into heavy hiccuping tears. as a kid this was the ultimate nightmare. you did something bad, you did something really bad, and your primary authority figure not only found it, but is now making sure everyone else you care about also knows the horrible shameful thing you did. except. there was something i couldnt have fathomed at the time that was about to get much, much worse.

my grandfather was dying of parkinson's at the time. when my mother took the sketch and displayed it to everyone like an auctioneer with a high ticket item, i ran out of the room sobbing so i never saw what happened to the blue inflated wolf with punk bangs. Well we all went to visit grandpa. we're all sitting around grandpa who used to be a famous local artist and was a big inspiration to me as a kid. and my mom goes "hey. ____ also wants to be an artist. Do you want to see what they drew?" and you'll never fucking guess what she pulls out of her pocket. hes barely able to turn and look over only to see that goddamn motherfucking wolf again. unlike before where i was crying so hard i couldn't breathe i remember being dead silent and stone still in shock. i dont think i blinked for 5 minutes but when i got up i threw up in the bathroom lol. I cant remember how but this time i did actually get the sketch back and i tore it to pieces and buried it in the yard. it haunted me for YEARS

but anyway now i have a memory of my mother showing my dying grandfather furry inflation art that i accidentally made when i was in middle school because i wanted a rainbow llama badge on deviantart.

#the ?? good news is although she knew (again not even attempting to unpack that) what it was no one else did #so i remember my family just being like 'why are you showing us this i dont get it'#while i was crying so hard i was about to pass out in the corner

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freakenomenon · 2 days ago

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wooly crash-outs are so much scarier than amanda crash-outs to me. like genuinely within the context of amandas entire emotional turmoil and what shes been going through for 20+ YEARS stuck with the instincts , emotional coping skills and developmental strengths of a traumatized 8 year old , her getting angry is only scary to me because we know what shes capable of when shes upset. not because she has explicitly malicious intentions. shes a child who doesn't know her own strength.

WOOLY HOWEVER.

almost nothing is confirmed about him, nothing is set and stone with him. and ( at least in the sequel ) even the slightest slip of script , does not sit well with him. not to mention that , while amanda herself openly states that she doesn't find him scary. the ENTITY is scared of an object that merely RESEMBLES him. while i don't think wooly is some big scary bully who is intentionally going out of his way to make himself appear bigger as a defense mechanism like amanda is. one thing i do think is very interesting is the fact that , amanda is never afraid announce her annoyance , frustration and downright RAGE towards the viewer when they fuck with her patience. while wooly , immediately masks his anger the moment it slips out. filtering it, and or channeling it as some kind of "this is whats best for you!" scolding. which is more terrifying to me , simply because. it also seems like he's not used to amanda not listening to him. everytime shes ever truly lashed out at him when hes trying to keep her in line, hes shocked. almost offended. and at the very most. hurt

and we've never seen him GENUINELY fed up until the storytime tape, where he was likely forced to keep it together because there was an audience. or at least someone to call out his bullshit.

something thats also noteworthy is that wooly. is not good at his job. or at least what the majority thinks his job is. hes very obviously there to keep some kind of eye on amanda. but from what it looks like he can't properly put his foot down anymore because his ( and amanda's ) emotions for the past 20 years are all coming to a gruesome bubbly front. hes always had this attitude of genuinely caring for amanda at some points , but also caring way too much about the show for it to actually be helpful. and when all of that frustration comes to a head I DO NOT WANNA BE HERE FOR IT.

holy mother of yap this is long. TLDR ; wooly is a very interesting and dynamic character and you lot would have so much more fun if you actually looked at him from a less black and white perspective and realized he can ..not be a good person while also having motivations and reasons as to why he is the way he is.

#amanda the adventurer #ata 2 #wooly the sheep #amanda the adventurer 2 #wooly ata

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watercolorfreckles · 2 days ago

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Static's Girl

This is a Secret Santa Snippet for @esperosisdoeswriting!! Merry Christmas, Esper, I hope you like it!!! Her prompt was villain dad who' loves his small child and is not afraid to kill ppl over it!

TW: Blood, violence, mention of needles

“Our target is a child?” The horror in Blythe’s voice seemed loud, even past the pound of blood pulsing in her ears.

Fellow members of the hero’s team poured into the back of the van, one strong-arming a terrified little girl. Her wrists were bound, mouth covered and tears streaking her cheeks. The child kicked and thrashed with pink-booted feet, legs dangling helplessly above the floor of the car where the hero’s sidekick kept her firmly hoisted in the air.

She looked barely older than 7.

Blythe’s protest was suitably ignored as the team shouted instructions at one another. The back doors slammed shut and the van lurched into action. Passengers plunged themselves into their seats.

“Are you crazy?” Blythe hissed. She stood only to stagger into the side window as the vehicle made a sharp turn. “This is crazy! Why are we kidnapping a child?!”

“Bosses orders,” another said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Mockingbird said “Jump” and they said, “How high?” That was just the way of things, wasn’t it? It had never concerned Blythe before–their leader was a just one.

But now…

The child’s knees were muddied and scuffed. As if she'd fallen. As if she'd run. She squealed panicked cries against the sidekick's palm.

Blythe's stomach bottomed out and pooled again with a honey-slick dread. “Who is she?”

“Static's kid,” the driver called back. Blythe caught a shiver skating through them in the corner of her eye.

“Static's ki- I must be missing something, are you crazy?” She rounded on Mockingbird's sidekick once more. “You said we were retrieving a powered weapon that could bring Static down!”

He blinked at her as if she were exceptionally slow. “That's what she is.”

Blythe shook her head, feeling an angry tremor seize her bones. “She's a little girl, is what she is.”

Blythe startled as the radio station crackled to life, flipping noisily through channels. The driver cursed and mashed at a button. Clicking on his coms device, he spoke aloud as his free hand yanked the wheel into another screechy turn.

“On our way back with the package in hand, Boss.”

Mockingbird's sidekick yelped and dropped the girl, a red welt forming on their palm where it had pressed against her mouth. The child hit the floor and scrambled on her knees to an empty corner.

The driver's eyes lit the rearview mirror. “What's–” He hissed and ripped his earpiece away from his head as it fizzled with blaring static loud enough for the rest of the van to hear. “Hey- She's interfering with our coms!”

“Probably trying to reach her father,” another in the front seat agreed. She pointedly shut the radio off as it flitted through stations of chatter and music once more.

The child’s nose was bleeding. Had it been doing that before?

“Somebody knock her out already!”

The sidekick sighed and lifted a hand. All-consuming shadows danced at his fingertips seeming to choke the air around it.

“Don't.” Blythe hurled herself in front of Static's daughter. Her eyes tingled with a familiar heat that told her they were glowing, power teeming just beneath the surface.

They stared at each other in a terse stalemate.

The sidekick’s teeth clenched.

“Listen, rookie–”

“We do not threaten children, and we certainly do not hurt them.” Blythe was proud of how steady she managed to keep her voice–firm and leaving no room for argument.

She still wanted to cry a little. How had this become her life?

Little hands grabbed at her from behind and a warm face pressed into her back. Then, a tiny sob. Blythe softened.

“You're okay, sweetpea, it's alright,” she crooned. Blythe turned to take the child gently in her arms, gathering her close in her lap. “Shh, it's alright. I won't let anyone hurt you. I promise.”

The sidekick's seething was palpable, gaze cleaving cleanly through her, but he finally sat back down.

An eternity later, they were back at the base. Blythe had smacked away any hands reaching to grab the child away from her, carrying the girl inside herself. The little one’s legs wound around her waist like a koala, bound hands clutching fistfuls of Blythe’s shirt fabric.

Blythe’s thoughts felt scattered as TV static. She moved on autopilot, only coming back to herself when the sterile-white lights of the laboratory hummed over them.

Mockingbird was there, black curls cascading freely over her shoulders and contrasting with the icy gray of her eyes. They were not particularly kind eyes, but Blythe had always thought the hero to be good, at least.

“Boss,” Blythe heard herself speak. She cleared her throat. “What exactly are we doing here? Why did we take this kid?”

Mockingbird gestured toward the lab table. “Put her there. We need her blood.”

Blythe’s eyes widened. “Her blood?”

“We are going to use her cells to create a power inhibitor for her father and a power replicator to dose myself with. When he comes to retrieve her, we inject him with it. He won’t act out when he knows we have his daughter. And with his own powers used against him, he’ll never escape again.”

Blythe’s voice came out croaky. “I think you’re putting an awful lot of faith in the self-control of the most powerful supervillain we’ve ever encountered. When we’ve taken his only child. And stabbed her with needles.”

Static’s daughter tightened around her. Blythe glanced down and murmured a soft apology against her ear.

“I don’t care,” Mockingbird snapped. It was clipped with a danger Blythe had never felt aimed at her before. It now felt like a knife against her soft underbelly, as silver and glinting as the superhero’s eyes. “We’re close. Too close to lose now. If you plan to stand in the way of that…”

She stepped closer and plucked the child out of Blythe’s arms with her own super-strength-enhanced, bionic ones. The child knew better than to thrash that time.

Blythe wondered now, nausea climbing her throat, whose blood she’d stolen to replicate that particular gift. The metal prosthetics weren’t just technology, now, were they? Blythe had never thought much of it before…

“Then you’ll have to take a time out,” the superhero finished. “Somewhere quiet where you can re-evaluate. Understand?” Her voice was a fake-chipper, then. Something Barbie-coded but full of invisible teeth.

Blythe’s powers hummed low beneath her skin, a tamed beast waiting for permission to lash out. Her fists clenched. “I really don’t think this is wise.”

“No?” Mockingbird sounded bored as she set Static’s daughter down on the table, tying a strip of elastic around the child’s forearm.

The little one jumped, blue static zapping Mockingbird’s fingers where they touched.

The superhero jerked back. “You little–”

“She’s just scared,” Blythe said, stepping between them. “I’ll do it. She’ll let me do it. Please.”

Mockingbird’s metal hand clanged into a fist. She took a long-suffering breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Get it done.” She pointed at the tray of tools on the counter. “Strap her down if you have to.”

Blythe’s hands went numb as she picked up the syringe. “Mocking–”

Their attentions snapped away as the speakers throughout the building crackled and spat. A wave of clammy dizziness flooded the room. Did the superhero feel the same sick lurch in her belly as Blythe did? The two clutched opposite ends of the counter to steady themselves.

Mockingbird whirled on the little girl. “Stop it, right now!”

Wide, terrified eyes stared back at her, but no blood oozed from her nose.

Blythe swallowed, choking down a roiling wave of nausea. She felt unsteady on her feet, light-headed and woozy. “It’s not her.”

A deep voice sounded over the intercom. “I’m coming to skin alive everyone who laid a finger on Verity. Those who merely stood by–don’t worry, I’ll fill your head with radiation so quickly you won’t even be able to choke out an apology.”

Oh no. Oh, they were so dead.

Blythe grabbed the child–Verity–and took a step toward the door.

Mockingbird blocked her. “No.”

“He’s going to kill everyone if he doesn’t get her back safely!”

Blythe tried to push her way past and Mockingbird grabbed her by the throat, cogs whirring in her bionic arm. She shoved, Blythe and Verity hurtling back into the wall.

“I said no!”

Blythe’s breath collapsed out of her lungs as her back hit the wall with a sickening crunch, drywall cracking and littering the floor around them.

Mockingbird turned to the monitor screen, making furious selections on the keyboard. Security footage of the whole base blipped to life.

They watched as Static strode into a room with the terrifying grace of an apex predator, tearing down anyone in his way. Radiation flooded his fists in a green glow as he punched through the receptionist’s chest, shifting to easily grab the next closest person and brace his hands on either side of their skull. The poor soul thrashed as blood leaked from their eyes, nose, and ears. When they were no longer moving, Static let them crumple to the floor.

The next group ran and Static bowled them down with infinitely multiplied radiowaves, hurling them from open palms as if it were nothing. The speakers filled with screams, the feedback whine behind the sound forcing Blythe to cover her ears.

Her blood iced over as in the top right frame, the supervillain looked up at the camera. His head tilted, making chilling eye contact with the lens until the screen cracked and went blank with buzzing stripes of radio static.

Verity was the only one in the compound who didn’t look afraid. She looked relieved.

Mockingbird moved for the door just as it burst open. She swung at Static with her bionic fists, missing and punching straight through the steel door instead.

Static stood on a platform of squiggling waves that lifted him off of the ground. He looked god-like. Untouchable. The impulse to run coursed through Blythe, but she stayed rooted to her spot, clutching the child to her chest. Static’s hands glowed green again as he lifted Blythe’s boss into the air. Those same up-and-down scribbles seized her, wrapping her prosthetic limbs and ripping them from her shoulders.

Mockingbird screamed.

“What did you do to my daughter?”

“Daddy!”

The villain’s attention shifted immediately. Verity wiggled free of Blythe’s arms, running to her father.

Static dropped his target as if she were a ragdoll, scooping up his daughter instead. “Verity,” he breathed. His eyes fell closed, stroking her hair, whispering tender praises and apologies into her shoulder.

The child clung to him. “Daddy.”

He pulled back to search her for injuries. “Are you hurt, darling? Tell me what they did to you.”

Though his voice was gentle for her, there was still a sharp undercurrent to it, as penetrating as the radiowaves that still leaked through the air. His eyes narrowed on her bloodied knees and the stained skin between her lip and nostril.

“I’m okay, Daddy,” Verity said, looking back at Blythe.

Her vision swam as the supervillain’s focus shifted, once more, to skewer her to her spot. A calm sort of rage stretched his posture taut as he stepped closer.

Blythe, embarrassingly, may have whimpered. Her hair stood on end, floating above her head.

Verity squirmed out of her father’s hold, jumping between them. Just as Blythe had done for her.

She held her breath.

“No, Daddy! She protected me.” Verity’s eyes took on a determined sort of gleam; valorant and unwavering.

The air around them fizzled quietly as another wave of illness rolled over Blythe.

Radiation poisoning. She wasn’t going to last much longer like this.

Static’s head tilted, looking from his daughter to the broken super behind her.

“She kept me safe,” Verity insisted, turning her head to look back at Blythe. Blythe couldn’t seem to speak. “She’s hurt. Can we take her home?”

“Verity.”

“Please?” Verity moved to Blythe’s side, taking her hand.

Despite her swimming vision, Blythe couldn’t help but smile softly at her. A powerful weapon indeed. Blythe believed she could move mountains.

Seconds passed and Blythe thought she may have passed out. Her vision stretched fuzzy and dim at the edges. Then she was being lifted from the floor, broken bones screaming their protest.

Blythe whimpered again, unable to help burying her face in the supervillain’s shirt.

His voice buzzed in her ear where it pressed against his chest.

“Stay close to me, Ver. Take my hand. We’re going home.”

#will reblog with my taglist later #im too lazy to add it rn #my writing #snippet #heroes and villains #writers of tumblr #hero x villain #writing snippet #writeblr #creative writing #fic writing #my wrtitng #writing #supervillain x hero #hero x supervillain #secret santa 2024 #secretsantasnippets2024

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