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slytherinslut0 · 6 months

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MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Twenty Eight--Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

Tags: 18+, SMUT, Rough Sex, Slapping (for sexual titillation), Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasm, Overstimulation, GUNPLAY, Outdoor Sex, Gagging, Choking, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, ANGST ANGST ANGSTTTTTTT!!!!! GET THE TISSUES OUT!

FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

In the aftermath of your heartfelt confession, the ambiance shifted beneath the curtain of rain. Mattheo's initial warmth, which had enveloped the moment, began to withdraw, slowly being replaced by his usual guarded demeanor.

Tension, thick and tangible, emanated from him, as if he yearned to retract, to voice a refusal. The gaze that had once been soft, akin to melted chocolate, now bore a stark reluctance. It was as though the vulnerability you had glimpsed moments earlier had transformed into a protective shield, guarding him against the intensity of the unexpected revelation.

Undeterred, you pressed forward, defying the cooling atmosphere with a resolute step. Your hands, a gentle insistence against the encroaching frost, found their place on his face. Amidst the rhythmic percussion of springtime raindrops, your eyes held an unbroken contact, mirroring the pounding cadence of your heart. A silent gaze held him in place, allowing the weight of your words to permeate the space before you spoke again.

"Don't say anything," you whispered, the words borne on the breath of the rain-soaked air, a plea to let the unspoken emotions settle in the delicate stillness between you two. "You've said so much, Mattheo...you've shared so much with me...I don't need you to say another word...just...just listen,"

Mattheo blinked, the subtle motion accompanied by the quiet working of his throat as he swallowed. His hands, hanging at his sides, remained still as yours maintained their firm grasp on his face. An almost imperceptible nod from him prompted you to inhale sharply, capturing the breath in your lungs.

"Perhaps I lied to you..." you began, your voice soft, tender. "Perhaps I wasn't being truthful when I said I never believed in destiny...because in a way, I do...but I also believe that we are only destined to do the things we'd choose to do anyway..."

A pause ensued as you studied his countenance, your gaze tracing the scars on his skin and taking note of his perfect imperfections that shaped the essence of who he is.

"And I'd choose you, Mattheo...in a hundred fucking lifetimes, in a hundred different realities, I would choose you...every fucking time..." you declared, your grip on him intensifying. Your hands trembled, mirroring the tremor in your voice. "I don't care about your history, I don't care about any of the bad things you've done...everything you've been through has made you who you are...and I am fucking in love with who you are...every single part of you...your smart mouth, your cheeky smirk, every line and every scar..."

Drawing him nearer, you gently guided him until his forehead found solace against yours. His hands discovered the curve of your waist, pulling you into an embrace that emanated urgency, a profound need to absorb every syllable you uttered, each word a testament to the depth of emotions shared between you.

"Your skin, absent of its scars, would be like a sky without stars," you murmured, your shared breaths blending in the intimate proximity. "I didn't fall in love with you; I fucking walked into love with you--with my eyes wide open, deliberately choosing every step along the way. Everything you've revealed changes nothing, Matty...I love you, utterly and unequivocally."

A profound silence enveloped the space, and time seemed to elongate into a suspended realm, each passing moment an eternity. His eyes, a tumultuous storm of unexpressed feelings, gently fluttered closed, his lips parting as his breaths, once steady, now took on a rhythm almost akin to panting--a visceral manifestation of the emotions swirling within.

His hands, deliberate in their motion, traversed the landscape of your back, ascending with a sense of purpose. As they reached your head, his fingers, fueled by a desperate urgency, found purchase, gripping your face with a fervor that spoke volumes. In this charged atmosphere, his eyes, concealed behind closed lids, hinted at the vulnerability beneath the stoic exterior. The suspended moment begged for release, aching for the words that lingered on the precipice.

"Say it again..." his murmured request, laden with longing, reverberated through the charged air. "I just-"

"I love you," you said, the words firmer this time, your hands threading behind his head, fingers entwining in his soaked hair. "I love you..."

His jaw tensed, and he released a shaky breath--his eyelids fluttering, the grip on your skull tightening. "Again."

"I love you," you repeated, your voice gaining strength, fingers digging into his scalp as though you could force the words through. "I fucking love you, Mattheo Riddle."

Breaths intermingled, and your grips on each other surpassed the hold of any chains or restraints. In the pulsating intensity, your minds spun with a whirlwind of thoughts. Was there a sweeter arrangement than this? He gets to ask you, over and over to repeat it--while you get to tell him, over and over, that you mean it.

Your nails dug into his scalp, foreheads pressing together with an almost painful force. "I thought it would be impossible to ever find someone...to ever be with someone, when beneath my surface of composure, I'm scattered in a million different pieces--like a puzzle with missing parts..." you paused, lips softly grazing his. "But then you showed me that every piece doesn't have to be in place to create something beautiful...something real...that love can exist in the most imperfect, lost, broken people."

A guttural noise escaped him, resonating low in his throat as his fingers dug into your skin, cradling your head.

You inhaled a shallow breath before you continued, "and I promise you, my love will be just as strong, just as beautiful, whether you, too, are in a thousand pieces, or just one.”

Mattheo, completely struck silent, locked eyes with your parted lips. In perfect synchrony, your gaze met his, and in that silent exchange, there was a mere gasp of air before his mouth was on yours. The passion between your bodies ignited into an unbridled inferno, refusing any attempt at restraint. His kiss was a slippery bruise, melding madness at your skin, tongue driving into you while he inhaled through his nose. You met him, movement for movement, groaning against him, fingers folding further into his hair, thumbs tracing the tops of his ears, and he groaned against your lips before capturing them again,

The kiss was unlike any before--a fervent blaze spiraling out of control, unwilling to be subdued for even a moment longer. His lips met yours with an intensity that felt almost primal; a hungry, desperate fusion of raw emotion and longing. His hands cradled your head with a force that hinted at an uncontainable desire, making you wonder if he sought to meld your very essence. The cool droplets of rain cascaded around you, soaking your skin to the bone, but you couldn't find it in you to care.

"I need you, princess..." he whispered, parting from the kiss, his hands gliding down your back as his lips found the curve of your neck. "But you already knew that, didn't you? Pretty girl..."

Your eyelids fluttered in response, fingers tightly grasping his hair, a desperate grip that mirrored the intensity of his kisses trailing down your neck. Your lip found refuge between your teeth as his mouth explored the path of rain cascading along your skin.

"My tainted little angel," he murmured, his words a provocative caress against your ear. "Crushingly beautiful...tender like a bruise..."

His hands, firm and insistent, sought the curves of your hips, fingers grasping at the wet fabric of your dress, tugging it upwards along your thighs. "You were the first sin actually worth hurting for...had me wrapped around your little finger before you even fucking touched me..."

You throbbed, a full-body pulse, humming into him with a shudder, Mattheo's lips moved back to yours, nipping at your lower lip before sliding to your chin, following the streams on your skin as he pressed clumsy, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, falling to suck and nibble at your heartbeat. Whimpering, you nuzzled your head into his, and he responded with a sharp bite to your neck, barely-restrained, earning a squeal from your throat.

"I told myself I was fine...that I was better off alone...never needed anyone, never wanted anyone...but then you came around, and after all this fucking time, after everything I put you through...it's still you, it's you who fucking believes in me..." he murmured against your skin. “You mean so fucking much to me…and when I finally admitted to that myself, when I finally let myself feel…you made me better, and I don't mean from being my tutor...you just made me want to be better...fuck, Raven...I wanted you to look at me the way you looked at the stars...I wanted to get better grades for you…I quit drinking and drugs because I wanted to be a better man for you..."

As he lifted your dress beyond your hips, your hands eagerly joined the movement, gathering the fabric's hem and peeling it over your head. His eyes traversed over every inch of newly exposed flesh, absorbing the sight with an intensity that spoke volumes. You observed as he swiftly shed his suit jacket, stripping the soaked fabric from his frame and laying it on the ground. His hands deftly moved to undo his belt, discarding his gun in the process. Returning a firm grip on your hips, he crashed his mouth back to yours, a relentless hunger igniting the kiss.

Moaning, you writhed into his chest, and he gripped your face, nails scraping your scalp while he pulled you closer, groaning into you, leaning--you followed him, chasing his kiss until you were both on the ground; him on his back, your legs straddling him, palms planted on his chest.

"I’ve had some, then most of you...all, and then none of you..." a soft, anxious breath escaped his throat, and he swirled his tongue over yours before biting your lip and pushing you up, hands settling on your thighs, rocking you back and forth over his thick erection, covered only by the thin fabric of his boxers. "I-I can't lose you again...it's you...it's fucking always been you..."

"Oh, Gods..." your voice cracked, emotion bubbling in your chest, threatening to spill out as you rolled your hips against him. He watched you, panting in rhythm with you, and you admired him--how fucking beautiful he was--his eyes stark with need, his mouth parted in open anticipation, his muscles tensing as he gripped and squeezed you, jerking his hips into your heat. "You won't...you fucking can't..."

Rain bathed you both, rivers roaming over your curves, white cloth of your bra a dewy illusion over your breasts. His thumbs skimmed your nipples with prickles of pleasure, and you moaned, head falling back on your shoulders. As if the sound awakened something inside him, he gripped your hips, flipping the two of you around until you were on your back beneath him, lips instantly moving to your neck, sucking at your throat.

You slid your hands under his shirt, savoring the firm contours of his body. He tensed, a low groan escaping into the intimate space between you, while his hips pressed against you with a force that seemed intent on melding you with the forest floor. Your fingertips traced the hard muscles, memorizing the damp, heated feel of his skin. In his voracious pursuit, he exhibited no restraint, extracting painful hickeys from the pulse at your neck.

The heat of desire surged between your thighs, and he moved lower, marking you with unrestrained passion. Tissue yielded to the pressure of his teeth, welts blooming under the fervent touch of his lips. Anxiety flickered through your mind as visible evidence of his ardor emerged, but the soft groan escaping his chest erased any concerns. Your back arched, willingly offering more of your untamed flesh to his insistent exploration. Grateful, he bit at the swell of your tits, crimson crescents blooming, and his hands moved to your underwear as he laved at your nipple through your bra, scraping it with his teeth through the fabric.

Mattheo fumbled at your folds, two thick fingers peeling you open, assessing your slickness, teasing your entrance. "Still so fucking wet for me..." he murmured, clucking his tongue. "And in the middle of the fucking forest...you'd take my cock anywhere I wanted, hm?"

You bit your lip, trying to grind against his hand. "What can I say...watching you use that gun did something to me..."

"Naughty, naughty girl..." he leaned to your ear, thumb skating your clit--you gasped. "Weren't you ever told to stay away from the asshole, weapon wielding bad boys?"

"Perhaps," you hissed through a moan as Mattheo pushed two fingers inside you--your walls tightening around him, hips twitching, head lolling against his soaked jacket. "Though I've never been good at following orders."

Mattheo huffed. "I'd say."

His mouth consumed you with a fervor, tracing a path of rich violet marks from your chin down to your clavicle, his spit mingling with the rain. Scissoring you open, he rolled your stiff clit, rocking his wrist, curling and working your walls, his other hand palming at his erection in an attempt to pacify himself. You bucked your hips, a shivering moan escaping, and he cursed, slamming in to the knuckle.

"If I fuck you now," he muttered at your jawline, "you'll have to take all of me. Everything I give you." He bit your neck, hard, forcing a cry from your lips. "I won't be able to control myself."

Heat scorched you, and you pulsed around him in anticipation, his fingers crooking in your wet core. Thunder grumbled in the distance. "Thought I'd long proved my capability."

Mattheo purred, and bit you again, pain shooting through you. "Earlier doesn't count, we were rushing...I need to wreck this tight little cunt...I'll fuck you harder and deeper than any of those assholes could ever fucking dream of..."

You shuddered, meeting his eyes. "Do your worst."

Snarling, he leaned back onto his knees, tore his fingers from your core and stuffed them in your mouth; you whinged in surprise, working to suckle them clean. Mattheo's free hand unleashed his dick, twitching eagerly despite its thick, heavy length. He jammed his hand to the back of your throat, and you gagged before he depressed your tongue, prying open your jaw.

"You know how this works." His gaze locked onto you, and the sky seemed to ignite with lightning around him. "Beg for it."

When he released you, you gasped into the rain. "Please, fuck me."

In the blink of an eye, his hand struck you, unleashing a spray of saliva from your parted lips. "That was pathetic," he snickered. "I fucking said beg."

Your face burned--humiliation, shock, and most importantly: desire. If this is what he meant, you wanted more. "Why don't you fucking make me?"

"There's that dirty mouth..." Mattheo smirked, shifting as he reached for his gun, gripping it with his free hand while the other stroked his cock. Before you could process it, he brought the barrel toward your temple, pressing the cold, wet metal against your skull. "Last fucking chance, princess...if you don't beg for my cock I'll fuck you so hard you'll be begging for mercy instead."

A whirlwind of shame and yearning left your head spinning, the likely instigators of your brief lapse into temporary insanity. "I'm not scared of you, Riddle..."

“Oh, princess.” His smirk grew. "You should be."

Adjusting the gun, he compelled the barrel past your lips, the icy metal coating your tongue. His other hand delved into your hair, gripping your soaked strands tightly as he forcefully drove the gun deeper into your throat. Then, without warning, he broke you open, splitting your core with a deep, harsh thrust, head slamming your cervix. You cried out against the weapon, body recoiling in pain, hands moving to his hips, and he shook you in reprimand.

"Oh, no--don't fucking bother." He drove his palm into your head, his nails scratching your scalp. "No running. Take it."

Mattheo pulled out fully before ramming back into you, spearing you with his cock, your body quaking with the force of each of his violent thrusts. His breath was already ragged, furious groans pushed from his chest as he fucked deep into you. Your lungs were empty, failing to find oxygen in his onslaught, your walls squeezing his length in delight, drool spilling down your chin and mingling with the flow of rain.

"Fuck--such an insatiable little cunt..." he growled, his eyes drilling into yours, taunting you through his gaze. "It missed this cock already, didn't it?"

Another deep thrust, meeting your cervix, and you winced, groaning against the gun as you tried to nod.

"That's right...shit..." he pulled the gun from your mouth, strings of drool hanging like garland from the barrel, quickly being washed away with the rain. "My girl...my fucking beautiful, filthy girl..."

He tossed it onto the ground next to your head, drawing his hand down toward your belly, slick fingers rubbing merciless circles on the bundle of nerves in rhythm with his pistoning hips--you wailed, drooling with pleasure, assaulted with a sudden, immediate need to orgasm.

"Fucking hell, you're so tight when you're about to cum..." he groaned, punishing your pussy with hard, rapid thrusts. "Prove you can take it. Cum on this cock."

Between the attention on your clit and the size of his dick, you snapped, convulsing and trembling while your blood flooded with flames, blazing heat through your thighs and to your toes. Above you, Mattheo hissed, fucking you through it, valiantly holding off his own orgasm as yours fizzed at your flesh. When your core's pulsing slowed, he shifted, propping your calves up his shoulders before he leaned forward and clamped his palm down on your neck.

"Don't squirm, baby..." his low voice commanded, and as you whimpered, squirming beneath him, his grin deepened. His eyes, now wild and intoxicated with desire, held a promise. "I gave you fair warning."

His free hand pinched your cheeks, slowly sliding out before slamming back in and pounding your cunt, growling breath leaking from his lungs, his hold on your throat tightening. The pressure in your head only doubled the frenzy of being fucked--you wheezed, your pulse thumping in your temples, and this spurred him on, drilling you with a depraved stare as he plowed into your tight pussy again and again and again.

The rain was steam on your skin, thunder a distant noise behind the sound of slapping skin and your strangled, whimpering moans. Your walls clenched and fluttered around his throbbing dick, sore clit twitching once more with a growing demand to be sated--Mattheo grunted, tugging you closer, eyes drilling into yours.

"Open that filthy mouth."

Wincing, you complied, parting your lips as he commanded. Without hesitation, he leaned down and spat into it.

"Now swallow it. Show me."

With determination etched on your face, you managed to comply against the pressure of his massive hand. Popping your jaw apart with a grimace, you showcased your resilience, earning a smirk from him. In response, he rewarded you with a series of both painful and blissful strokes of his hips, pushing your body to its absolute limit. Your breath had vanished ages ago, your heart now a wild entity, coursing through your veins.

"Poor baby," he sneered, feign sincerity in his tone. "I think you need to cum again."

He snaked his free hand between your legs, rolling your aching clit, and you groaned--or tried to, anyway--the speed of your pulse resonating through the grip on your neck. He felt it, too, head bowing in pleasured shock as you thrummed around him, your oncoming climax massaging his thick cock with every new thrust.

"Fuck." Resolute, he rubbed you faster, watching you--in his gaze, you saw nothing but an endless, dark void of lust. "Who do you fucking belong to?"

The words barely made it out. "Y-you, Mattheo..."

His choke tightened, and your vision blurred. "Who owns this tight little pussy?"

"You--you do, Mattheo..." you gasped.

"That's right," he sneered, and swirled your nub so quickly you squealed. "Cum for me, princess..."

The force of your orgasm surged through you, blurring your vision, and you screamed, choked by his hand as every muscle below your waist convulsed in a rapturous ecstasy. Your pussy milked and squeezed his cock, but he resisted his own climax once more, sinking into you until you descended. He drank in the sight of you--eyes rolled, raindrops scattered like diamonds on your skin, your throat and chest smothered with the evidence of his possession.

"Good fucking girl...take me...take all of me," he muttered, voice low and deep in the night air. "Every single fucking inch."

Mattheo shifted again, one arm coiling under you to fist your hair, the other cranking your leg back until your knee hit your chest. Groaning with pleasure, he hammered into you, stretching you wide, filling you to the base. Soaked strands of his hair slid into his eyes, and he tossed them back, wetting his lips and fucking you deep, trapping you in his feral gaze.

"You love me." He tilted your head back with a deliberate motion. "You fucking love me."

You nodded, not a shred of hesitation. "Yes-fuck! I do!"

He swallowed, inching closer, his forehead tenderly meeting yours. "After all of it," he whispered, the words almost lost in the shared breath, "after everything..."

Your chin quivered, and the revelation about his parents cut into your heart, a painful echo of his turbulent past. It hurt, yes, but it also felt like the a groundbreaking revelation, the ending to the story which finally explained why he was the way he was. There was an undeniable understanding that surged between your hearts, a silent recognition that both of you needed love in ways only the other could provide.

Despite the turmoil, you couldn't blame him for something so deeply rooted. The man craved love as desperately as you did, neither of you ever willing to admit it. In the synergy of your souls, there existed an undeniable connection, a perfect harmony that transcended spoken words. Even in the hushed language of silence, your hearts resonated, acknowledging that there would never be two souls more perfectly suited for each other than yours.

"After everything." You wrapped your arms around him, safe when lightning crashed, rocking your hips in his pace. "No matter what."

"Fuck." He wound your hair in his fist, and wrenched your head back, tearing at your throat with his teeth, harsh thrusts pulverizing your cunt. "...I'm--fuck--I'm going to make you break again." His hand left your leg, long fingers back to stroking your tender clit. "And then I'm going to fill you up with my cum."

Senses barraged, you shrieked, overwhelmed and oversensitive. He wasn't fucking joking. You wanted mercy. "Fuck! Mattheo! Please-please-"

"No. Take it," he snarled into your ear. "Take it."

He assailed your nub, and you quailed, curling around him like a snake, shaking from the overwhelming intensity of his power, lids shut while he nipped your neck, demolished your pussy, panted hard into your ear.

"You're mine." He growled, his voice shredded raw with lust. "Mine."

"I'm yours!" You shrieked, nails digging crescents into his back. "Yours."

"Fuck-" he hissed, slamming harder, deeper. "Mine! All fucking mine..."

"Yours! Fuck!" It was all too much, too great, brain crashing into a wanton mess. "All fucking yours!"

Your body convulsed, teeth sinking into your lip, propelled through a realm of heightened sensitivity into an ecstasy that seared your skin. Gasps and incoherent pleas spilled from your lips, a desperate supplication for release, for him to unleash the crescendo that would send you soaring and screaming and cumming.

"That's it," Mattheo growled, pumping into you, folding you into his frame. "You're taking me so fucking well baby, just one more...cum for me, angel."

Your senses fractured, caught between euphoria and disbelief, and your body spasmed, climax radiating through your every fiber, a luminous burst that shattered any remnants of sanity, setting Mattheo ablaze in its wake. He groaned, grunted, burying himself to the hilt, warm cock pulsing as he poured hot cum deep into your cunt. For a moment, he didn't move, silently working to catch his breath before he pulled back, shifting onto his knees.

You fixated on him, your head weighed down, struggling to fathom the endearment he had bestowed upon you--silently endeavouring to etch every detail of this encounter into the recesses of your memory. A contented sigh escaped you, accompanied by a smile that radiated the joy swelling within your chest.

However, as you gazed at him, basking in the warmth of affection twinkling in his eyes, you noticed a flicker of something else--an abrupt shift. His thumb grazed your chin absentmindedly before he moved, working to tuck himself away. You mirrored his actions, attempting to salvage what was left of your clothing, now thoroughly drenched by the relentless rain.

Walking through the forest on your way back to the castle, the shadows of the trees played in the puddle-soaked ground, creating a surreal dance around you. Mattheo extended his hand, a silent invitation you willingly accepted. The brief connection sent a comforting warmth through you, grounding you amidst the uncertainty.

As you navigated the path, thoughts swirled like the mist around you. The night's events echoed in your mind, and a cloud of questions veiled the clarity you sought. Contemplating a potential job at the castle, you wondered about its impact on your newfound bond with Mattheo. Did you still harbour the same enthusiasm for the job amid these compelling complexities? The walk became a journey through both the tangible forest and the intricate maze of your thoughts, navigating the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

Approaching the castle, the distant melody of music embraced the night air, whispering promises of celebration within. Capturing the tune, Mattheo halted abruptly, pivoting to face you as the two of you lingered just outside the castle walls, hidden by the shadows of the night.

Your brows furrowed inquisitively as you locked eyes with him, seeking to understand the meaning behind this sudden pause. "What are you-"

"Shh." He cooed, eyes darting around.

After a brief survey of the surroundings, he fixed his eyes back on you with a newfound emotion swirling within them. Without another word, Mattheo enveloped you in a tender embrace, guiding your arms to rest on his neck as his firm hands settled on your hips. Bathed in the gentle glow of castle lights, he initiated a graceful sway to the rhythm of a slow, melodic tune that harmonized seamlessly with the rain-soaked ambiance.

In the suspended moment, your gaze locked with his, the world around you blurred as the rain continued its gentle descent, creating an intimate cocoon amidst the springtime storm. It felt perfect, a clandestine world of your own, away from the prying eyes of others.

"All those people think love's for show..." Mattheo blinked, drawing his face closer. "But I'd fucking die for you in secret."

Your breath hitched, water welling in your eyes. You quickly blinked it away, searching his face, mapping it, along with everything else from this night into memory.

"How'd I get so lucky..." you tightened your hold on him, the raindrops adding a gentle percussion to the soundtrack of the moment. "A sky full of stars, and yet you're staring at me..."

"There's no need," he murmured, directing your head to lay against his chest. "Avere lei è come avere le stelle."

Your heart leapt. "How did you-"

"Notts been teaching me," he said, and you could practically hear the smirk on his lips, the pride in his tone. "You know what I said, don't you?"

You blushed, unable to stifle your grin. "I do."

He hummed. "Tell me."

"No," you whispered, fingers digging into his neck as you shifted your head to look up at him. "I'd like to hear you say it."

His smirk grew, and he peered down at you. "To have her, is to have the stars."

“Mm,” you glimpsed his mouth, brushing your lips against his as you murmured, "E averlo, è come avere la luna." (And to have him, is to have the moon.)

His smirk blossomed into a radiant smile as he gripped your face, drawing you into a profound, messy, deep kiss. Every fiber of your being quivered under the intense surge of emotions you felt for this man--love enveloping you entirely, and whether or not he uttered the words, you could sense it--right now, ten minutes ago, and every moment in between.

All you wanted, more than anything, was that he’d hold you tight, and whisper that you’d find a way to be together. But then, his hands fell from your face, wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you back into him. With his lips pressed to your forehead, he whispered,

“I’ve never loved anything, Raven…anyone…I didn’t even know I had a heart until you made it beat.” He murmured, tightening his grip. “Now this heart belongs to you. And I’ll fucking kill every last person that tries to keep you from me…”

You shuddered, breathing him in. “We’ll make it work. We’ll figure it out.”

He hummed, nodding softly, the two of you swaying to the gentle melody, ignoring the cold rain pouring down against your bodies. You weren’t sure how long you’d stood there, minutes, maybe even hours--but as the song came to an end, switching to another, more upbeat one, you smiled, meeting his dark, gleaming eyes.

“I love you, Mattheo.”

He pressed his lips to yours. “I love you, Raven.”

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bowieandqueen11 · 4 months

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Buggy Falling In Love With You Would Include...

Request: hi there~ would it be possible to get buggy x reader headcanons of their time growing from friends to lovers? buggy is completely thrown for a loop when it comes to reader because they're polar opposites, but he grows to love how genuinely nice she is. she's able to bring out a more softer side of himself, which terrifies and frustrates him, but eventually buggy learns to accept it.

P.S. good luck on your surgery! i'll be wishing you a speedy recovery!

I genuinely love this clown way too much like Jeff Ward had no right to look as good in this role for real - also thank you so much sweetie!! I'm very nervous right now but getting back into writing such sweet requests is helping :3

Warning: slightly NSFW although nothing explicit, mentions of knives and cannons and slightly strong language!

(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @goodsirs.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Look, I love this man, but he is a full on idiot. He would not deal with these emotions well. Perhaps it was because of the thorn Shanks had left in his side that he refused to allow his heart to entrust itself into someone else's hands again: to be left disappointed once again. Perhaps, it was even the deep rooted, long-suffering repressed fear that he would lose you; the life of a pirate was an ugly one, full of bloodshed and tenuous treaties. Of a life lived from moment to moment, of foiled plans and devastating lows. There was no place for kindness, or selflessness, or care. Tenderness. The last time he had left himself concern for another flood his brain, he had been left bawling in front of Gol D. Roger's execution tower. He vowed then, he vowed that he would never allow himself to feel that weakness for another person again.

Tenderness. Yuck. Even the word still made him shiver in his boots.

And then you had to come along, and ruin every. single. one. of his incredibly well thought out plans. He was going to be King of the Pirates. He was going to kill that little Strawhat brat and take back his map to the Grand Line. And he wasn't, most definitely not, going to fall head over heels in love with you.

Speaking of, your entire relationship didn't exactly get off to a great start; during the practice for the Grand Entry of performers into the ring, Buggy was far too busy glancing his eyes sideways to notice where he was walking. He was far, far too busy trying to swipe the dopey look of his usually stony face, replacing it with a melodramatic frown as he tried to figure out, why oh why, his heart was striking his chest in tune to the marching band every time he dared steal a look in your direction. Far, far too busy growing more and more petrified about how stifling a presence you had on the tent as a whole, that this man dead-ass hit the toe of his boot off the striped edge of the ring and fell arse over teakettle into the sand. It would have maybe... *maybe* been a little less mortifying for Buggy if you hadn't rushed over to help him while he was trying to spit out grains of sand and smudged lipstick from his tongue with a disgusted splutter. The absolute derision in his curled fist as he swung his head away from your offering hand was the final blow to his already delicate pride.

You were getting in the way, and it was starting to infuriate the clamorous clown.

As soon as you would enter the tent, every crew member's head would swivel round towards you like five seesawing spotlights. Being so kind and attentive to the different members of the crew and their varying personalities: dreams, fears and wants, it seemed only natural that each member would gravitate towards you. Plus, it was an added bonus dumping their ropes and wonkily written cue cards to instead lumber over to your corner and escape Buggy's rant about the 'brightness of the spotlight being so dark it would make the sun look black!'

Since this man is genuinely such an attention hoe (mood), seeing everyone completely turn their asses to him and ignore every stamp of his foot and seething word from his curled lips would immediately set him firmly on edge. Queue the theatrical man folding his arms and huffing like a steam boat when he watches Cabaji offer you his hand to stop you from falling over some scattered wrist chains still left on the floor after the Buggy Pirates' last village destruction.

Buggy snaps everyone back to work with a brusk yell, the sound of your giggle as another member of the crew shows you how to use the red flares tipping his anger straight over into the abyss. His teeth grind harshly enough to leave a trail of dust behind his feet as he slaps the tent flaps open; he immediately flops down on one of the stacked crates by the entrance, thumping his head onto his folded arms as he tries to calm himself down. He swats everyone that comes his way away, pretending he's busy counting how many knives he has left stored away so he could bury his head into the wood and hope that no one would notice how devastated he looked.

The worst part of it all? Buggy, if he was being truly honest with himself, was unsure if he was so jealous over you stealing the spotlight, or by the way his whole body had bristled seeing you place your fingers so delicately against a palm that wasn't his.

Bless your heart, you make it a point to try and cheer him up the next chance you get, feeling so guilty about the fact that his whole face was nearly as red as his nose for the entire day, and he refused to enter the tent again. Once you're all safely back on the Big Top, you try your damn hardest to try and soften the captain to you a bit: or even better, to try and figure out why he seemed so antagonised by you. It was exceptionally hard: when you waved to him on the deck, Buggy's eyes fell as wide as saucers as he nearly fell to the ground trying to duck down behind Mohji, waddling away behind him like a duck. Or you would try and knock on his quarters' door, only to see an arm... and then a leg... and then the stupid man's grimacing head fly past the port windows and out of his room. One time, as you were heading down to the galley, you swore you heard a gaudy exhale and a sigh of relief come from one of the shaking barrels up by the railings.

This man was a tough shell to crack, but you were determined to finally win the great Pirate Buggy over.

After about three days of constantly trying, you managed to make him yell and nearly jump out of his coat up on the deck; he swivelled round when he felt a soft triple tap on his shoulder, and there you stood: hands tucked nervously behind your back, a kind smile brightening your face as you noticed him gaping at you.

'Good morning, Captain Buggy!', you swing a little from side to side, noticing the thick swallow he gave at the sound of your voice. Did he really despise you so much, that just four simple words could make the bile rise in his throat?

Inside, Buggy was burning. By all the seas, did the sound of your wind-rushing voice make him want to do nothing more than grab onto your face with an clad-iron grip and do nothing but kiss you silly until the saccharine saffron sun dawned. His gloves clenched at his sides, will-power winning out as he threw you a shit-eating grin and raised one leg comically, as if he were about to run over the edge of the ship.

'I'm a little busy right now Y/n. See?' He pointed a finger towards the ocean, and then held them up by his shoulders and shrugged.

'But-', you started, grabbing onto his collar and nearly toppling the man over with how shocked he was. 'I just wanted to ask you about your battle with the Golden Lion Pirates!'

His eyebrows raised, and his head tilted slowly to the side. 'You... you know about that?'

'Of course! That's why I joined your crew! Only a talented and clever pirate could have sailed with Gol D. Roger - that's why I respected you and your crew so much! And don't forget devilishly handsome!'

You... you respected him? Oh no. Oh no no no. This was worse than kindness. Far worse than tenderness. The words fall on short-circuiting ears: the branding pain of your fingers brushing over the bare skin on his wrist as you held tightly onto his sleeve forgotten as his brain worked overtime trying to figure out what you had just said. ...Handsome?

He cocks his head back to you, blinking rhythmically, as if he were a wound up spring toy rather than a man. But he looking at you: really looking at you for the first time. His face softened a little - the cracks finally beginning to show through his gaudy façade. As you reached up on your tippy toes to press a chaste kiss against the skull-and-crossbones lying over his left eyebrow, little could you know that no one had shown Buggy that much care since he was thirteen years old.

Oh noooo. He was falling in love with you, and it terrified him. But damn it all if he doesn't want to feel this flash of lightening strike through every nerve ending in his body every chance he got: if he didn't want to feel his breath stick in the back of his throat at the slightly sticky feel of your lips pulling away from his forehead. If he didn't want to be greedy, and steal away the flushed smile you gave him before scurrying off, hoarding it all for himself.

Buggy comes to practice his new jokes on you every chance he gets after that encounter, the feeling of being near you so addictive it almost swings round from love and back to annoyance again. He stands awkwardly at the swing door of the galley: a nervous shadow creeping around the fringes of your scintillating smile. Everyone on the crew just pretends they can't see him lmao, even when they can hear his impatient 'oh, come onnn' and 'how long does it take to eat a bologna sandwich?', moaning and muttering and spluttering from the corridor. Was it so hard for the poor man to get a minute *coincidentally* alone with you? Considering he had done nothing the last week but try and do the exact opposite oops Buggy I love you but you're a straight up histrionic dumbass-

He literally grabs people by the collar and hurls them out the door like a cannonball if they walk past him too slowly.

When he comes sliding up on the bench beside you, elbow on the table and head resting nonchalantly on his fist like a slipping squid nearly knocking itself into your torso head-first, you can't say you're too surprised by his antics. Bless, he looks so proud of himself for fooling you into thinking he was here so candidly that you can't help but giggle, which turns into rip-roaring laughs once he starts up his routine. Truth is, as he spends hours and hours telling you terrible, cheesy ass jokes, he just wants to hear your laughter. Wants to feel your knee knock against with each shake of your belly his until his whole body jolts. Wants to admire you up close, to mark down in the depths of his mind the way the corners of your eyes crinkle when you're especially happy.

He wants to outline it all in his head: memorise it, lay it out so it covered every inch and crevice and recesses of his vindictive brain. All he wanted in that moment, as you tried to choke back your laughter with a spluttering cough, was to frame the most important map he would ever find: the intricacies of you.

When he slaps his hand down on the table at a particularly rib-tickling crack, and you accidentally bring yours down to settle on top of his glove, he starts so suddenly you're worried he's going to start avoiding you again. And although he stops giggling, and although his face falls to gravely stare at your skin resting on top of the white leather, he surprises you both by twisting his hand so he could grip loosely onto the tips of your fingers. He's so embarrassed when you start knitting your pinky finger between his larger, slender one that he tucks his left hand between his knee and has to turn his head to face the wall, still trying to swallow down his pride and allow himself to indulge in that disgusting word... tenderness again.

One time, while you were pouring over some old maps the crew had stolen from a Marine base a couple of weeks ago, you absentmindedly reached over to where Buggy was sewing up his coat on the sand and began twirling the surprisingly soft strands of his hair between your fingers. Thank goodness the two of you were alone, because the uncomfortable tent that grew between his shuffling thighs, and the gasping splutters that blew out of his mouth mortified the clown to his core.

He was still getting used to all this. Just give him some time. And a whole lot of reassurance.

You're the only other person that Buggy will allow to sit on his make-shift throne. When your Captain had asked you to come help chart out a path to whichever small village you thought was best to steal restock supplies from, you imagined you'd be standing by his armrest like his right hand man does. Surprise surprise to the both of you when you end up nearly glowing, puffs of steam escaping both your ears by how maroon you both turned.

When he had faux-confidently clapped his knees and beckoned you over to him with a wave of his hand, he was only, like, 30% certain you would take him up on his offer. When you slid onto his lap, he was nearly as gobsmacked as you were. He tried, he really did - he tried to hide his curling smile and wonderstruck widening eyes behind your neck, but his warm breath grazing over your collar bone kept making you squirm. Which, of course, with each shove backwards of your hips, and well... your buttocks against his pelvis, he kept having to moan internally and grit his teeth to stop himself ripping off your clothes right there and then.

It really doesn't help that he starts tapping the heel of his boot against the floor as if to expel all of his nervous energy, making his knee bop up constantly against your inseam, making it hard for you to concentrate on anything but holding onto his forearm for dear life to try and settle yourself.

Buggy's own grip on the chair was tight enough to chip off wood when you shakily pulled the crumpled map out of your back pocket, the feeling of the back of your hand brushing innocently against his inner thigh making Buggy throw his head back and close his eye in intense concentration.

Oops, too bad you had to go back since you'd forgotten your compass; wrestling deeper into the pocket, your hand accidentally brushed over the most sensitive Buggy's crotch, making him buck his hips up and nearly sending you flying across the room.

It's when he gently places the side of his head against your cheek and reads almost absentmindedly over your shoulder, despite how hard he was pretending not to be breathlessly glancing at you through his thick lashes intently enough to burn a hole through the hull of the ship that you finally realise.

Oh. He doesn't hate me. He likes me.

His nose bumps against the edge of your Cupid's Bow, and you take a chance. You lean forward, both your breaths frozen as Buggy follows the trail of your lips until he goes almost cross-eyed, finally computing that you had just pressed a sweet kiss on his nose.

For a moment, he's stock still. He just gawks harshly at the inner seam of your bottom lip, as if lost adrift a tumultuous sea of thought. And then when I say this man pounces, I mean he pounces.

All the rest of the crew are too afraid to come in and disturb Buggy about the small three-manned boat encroaching on the horizon, though, because of the absolutely ringing, frantic noises coming out of Buggy's throne room.

Let's just say, although they were incredibly glad you brought out a softer, mushier side of their Captain, they all now had another problem on their hands: his raging protectiveness. Now, not only were they getting yelled at for messing up his entrances, they were getting honked at and prodded with his dismembered hand anytime someone dared to even look at you for a second too long.

#one piece #one piece imagine #buggy #buggy the clown #buggy imagine #buggy the clown imagine #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy headcanons #buggy the clown headcanons #opla #opla imagine #jeff ward #one piece fanfic #one piece fanfiction #one piece headcanons #buggy one piece #buggy the clown one piece

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ivoovu · 5 months

Text

Uhhhh (Diane if you see this I hope you‘re happy now)

….

Fluff

Domesticity

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The CoD Men watching you while they‘re laying on their side of the Bed, hand supporting his head.

You‘re preparing to go to Bed, putting your Hair in a protective hairstyle, changing your home clothes for your Pyjamas.

"Did you check the doors? The windows?" You ask him, sitting down on the floor, facing your mirror as you pull out your products for your Skin.

"Always" he grumbles as he gets up and walks around the bed before standing in front of you. He bends down, knees creaking as he sits next to you, his chest facing you. Grabbing your hip with one hand and your knee with the other, he turns you to face him.

You hum out, questioning his actions, before a smile stretches across your face as you see your Husband grabbing a Skincare product of yours.

"How do you use this again?" He asks you, turning the little see-through bottle around in his large hand.

The grin on your face only continues to grow "You pump it on your palm three times, rub your hands together for a few seconds and then apply it on your face."

He lets out a long hum before doing exactly as you told him to, applying the product on your face "What even is this? Feels weird…"

Your eyes scan his unfairly handsome face "Snail Mucin"

He freezes, eyes locking onto yours immediately "Snail- what? You… put what on your face??" He asks, disbelief evident in his voice.

You close your eyes, delighted by his expression "Yeah, it‘s good for hydration, helps with fine lines and promotes healing."

A small 'tsk' escapes his lips as he continues to cover your face in the product softly, gently.

"Hey don‘t 'Tsk' me. At least I am doing something for my face. You using the Sunscreen as I told you to?"

"Every single day."

You open your eyes to glare at him jokingly, his face drenched in humor and sarcasm as one corner of his mouth curls up in a grin.

"I‘m going to look 30 at 50 while you’re going to look 70 at 50."

A low laugh escapes him as he glances at you lovingly, the smirk turning into a full smile "So I‘ll get to be the Bastard with a young wife eh?"

That makes you puff out in disbelief, rolling your pair of eyes before snorting at the mental image. "If you don‘t mind people gossiping, yeah."

"Don‘t care about them, I care about you and what you think of me. So if you‘ll still love me while I look like 70 at 50, I don‘t mind the people."

Caught by surprise, you avoid his gaze as a small blush dusts your cheeks.

"Aww, cute. You getting all red on me now?"

"Shush"

A low, short giggle leaves his mouth as he presses a tender kiss to your lips "I love you."

"I know."

He raises an eyebrow at you, tilting his head.

Now it‘s your turn to snicker. Cupping his face, you bring his face closer to yours before kissing him, whispering a light "I love you too."

A huge smirk etches across his face as he kisses you back "I know."

You roll your eyes, once again, feeling warm and fuzzy. Safe, secure and loved.

"Aw, shit."

"What?"

"I got Snail mucin all over my face now."

…

It isn‘t until much later, where you’re cuddling in bed with him, all lights turned off as your legs are intertwined with each other when your eyes pop open in a sudden realization "Wait, Baby?" You whisper meekly, hoping he‘s not asleep yet.

He hums in reply, eyes still closed as his tossed arm over you pulls you in even closer.

"So if I told you that I wouldn‘t want you if you looked like 70 at 50, you‘d start using the Products I got for you?"

A long silence fills the room, stretching the minutes out as the only thing you can hear is your Husbands gentle breathing and some people talking outside.

You decide to try again "Honey?"

"How about… we continue this conversation tomorrow?"

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

A sudden thought appeared in my mushy pink organ in the middle of studying and this is the result of it.

Hope you enjoyed it and drink a Glass of water yeah?

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hype-blue-fixation · 10 days

Text

RadioStatic Week Day 3 - Jealous/Posessive - "Your Laugh is Mine" (SFW ticklefic)

All day he'd kept his claws off the Radio Demon and let him go about his daily business. Forced to watch as the object of his obsession talked to other people. Conducted business with them, made small talk, cracked jokes. He hated how they made him laugh and smile. How those people gave him what he wanted. Vox knew he could do better.

And it was worst with the ladies. Alastor was far too kind to them. To the point it made Vox sick. The only time he even felt the smallest pang of guilt over these emotions is when the lady was Rosie. He respected the deep connection the two shared. But if it be anyone else, jealousy was sure to run rampant.

As the day went on, Vox became more fidgety. His body itchy. Everything in him wanted that furry deer back home and in his arms. Evening felt like it couldn't come soon enough. He was already daydreaming of all the things he wanted to do, making the wait all the more agonizing.

“I'm back!” the door clicked open and in came Alastor. Vox was already there, offering to takr his jacket and even unlace his shoes. Dinner was ready. Jazz music played on the radio. Whatever the deer wanted was only a whim away. “I think you love me too much.” Alastor cooed as he was lead to the dinner table.

“Nope. I love you just enough.” Vox held out a cooked human hand, humming in adoration as Alastor leaned forward to nibble each finger off. A playful look coming to his face.

“You love me so much you're even hand-feeding me!”

Vox snorted at the double meaning. Such a charming sense of humor. “Speaking of loving you so much…” his voice trailed off as he lost himself in Alastor's eyes. A small nibble at his own fingers shook him out of the daze with a frightened shout. As much as he loved the other, he was still a beast to be reckoned with. A unique, dangerous, and downright gorgeous beast.

The TV headed man offered more food. Smiling as it was gingerly eaten away. “I couldn't help but watch how you interacted with everyone today. They gave you what you wanted. Satisfied you. Made you smile. Laugh.”

“Mhm. What's your point?” Alastor smacked his lips, signaling he was done with dinner. Vox wiped the blood from his mouth, losing himself in those eyes again. They were always so expressive, and right now they were full of love and interest. Wondering what fantasies had been running through that dumb box head.

They went to bed, Alastor the first to settle down and get comfortable. Vox was right at his side. Wasting no time in getting his claws on that furry belly. Scratching at it and digging in possessively. “This soft little thing? It's mine.” His voice was strong. Not accepting any sort of argument. Whatever Alastor tried to say was silenced at the feeling of a tummy kiss.

Warmth focused on the mouth area of Vox’s screen as he planted kisses at the waist line. He gently pushed up Alastor's shirt as he trailed kisses up to his belly button. Then a blue tongue projected out of his screen to draw buzzy lines around the sensitive spot.

“Vox, darling. You don't have to–”

“I want to.” A firm grip came on his sides as warm kisses and electronic licks graced that fuzzy deer belly. Alastor couldn't help but fluster at the tender care. One hand rested on the back of Vox’s head while the other came up to his mouth to hide the noise that wanted to come out. A task that became harder when the hands on his sides began lightly scratching the soft body.

Alastor was now biting into his hand. Desperate attempts to hold back noise. Vox was quick to tug it away. “I want to hear you. Are you really going to let all those other people hear your beautiful voice and laughter all day then keep it hidden from me?”

“I suppose that is unfair of me, hmm?”

“It's criminal.” Vox blew a strange, vibrating form of a raspberry square on that belly button. Tickling his claws into the sensitive sides. A loud laugh echoed in response. “See, I bet that felt good, right?”

“It does feel good to let loose and laugh.”

“Good! Because all those laughs are mine, you hear? Every sound you make tonight will be mine.” Vox stared directly into Alastor's eyes as his claws scribbled around the belly button. Small giggles ensued. “Every little whine, laugh, breath, wheeze, beg, and whatever comes in-between is mine.”

“No it's not!” Alastor playfully teased.

The claw dipped into the center of that tummy with a small electric shock. That seemed to bring the radio demon back into his place with a storm of uncontrollable laughter.

“Yes. It. Is.”

#radiostatic week 2024 #sfw tickle community #ticklefic #lee!alastor #ler!vox #possessive #my writing

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ocean-ai · 7 months

Text

I Love You ~ Yuta

I know I've been gone for a while, but I wanted to post something for Yuta's birthday. Happy birthday, my love.

Pairings: Husband! Yuta X Female Reader

Genre: Fluffy smut

Word Count: 1,102

Warnings: Soft sex, slight overstimulation, cockwarming for like a second

He kissed your lips softly before he pulled away, eyes full of love and adoration. “Are you ready?” His tip was lined up at your entrance, waiting for you to say yes. Yuta kept his body close to yours, wanting every second and touch to matter. Even after all this time you’d been with him, you were still in awe that he was yours. He was gorgeous and he treated you like you were the only woman in the world. All you ever wanted to do was give the love right back to him.

You took in his features; admiring his swollen but beautiful lips, his messy red hair that he recently dyed to see if he’d like it, and when you looked down, you were reminded of the tattoos that adorned his skin and the little piece of jewelry on his belly button. You took in every part of him, loving that you were able to say he was all yours. And yours only, as he would say. Sometimes, you’re still in shock that he’s your husband.

You leaned up and gave him a quick kiss and you nodded. “Yes,” you whispered. Yuta smiled at you and you couldn’t help but smile back. Of course, your smile soon changed when you felt him slowly push himself inside you. You gasped at the new sensation filling your body. Your face contorted from the pleasure, letting Yuta know just how good he made you feel already. Just being connected with him was enough for you.

Yuta filled you up perfectly; like your bodies were made for each other. He gave you a minute to adjust to him before he slowly began to move his hips. Yuta leaned down to kiss you as he rocked his hips against yours. You moaned softly and held him close to you. You loved it when you and Yuta would make love like this. It felt especially better since you hadn’t seen him in a while. This was long overdue.

His sweet lips were on yours before traveling to your neck, kissing you slowly along with his hips. The pleasure that Yuta was already giving you was more than you could ever describe. He knew all your spots and all the places that drove you crazy. It seemed like Yuta almost knew your body better than you did. He was so gentle with you and he always made sure you were satisfied when you’d have sex. To him, it was a way to make sure you were taken care of. He was hardly ever focused on his own pleasure. Though, you always made sure that he was satisfied.

Yuta took one of your legs and wrapped it around his waist before he moved a little bit faster inside you. You felt like you were floating from the pleasure he gave you. His pace was just right, not too fast or too slow. He pulled away from your neck and smiled at you, seeing your pleasure ridden face. He loved knowing that he was the one who could make you moan and have your body react the way it did now.

You wrapped your other leg around him and interlocked your ankles, keeping him right where you wanted him. Yuta loved being close to you and when you’d have your legs on him; he knew it was your silent way of letting him know how good he was making you feel. You reveled in the feeling of having the man you loved close to you like this. You placed your hands on the nape of his neck and pulled him down for another kiss, lingering on his lips and wanting to feel him everywhere. You felt him smile into your kiss, letting you know he was enjoying every second as much as you did.

Yuta angled his hips so that he was now hitting your spot repeatedly, making you pull away from his tender kiss to moan out loud. “Fuck, right there!” Your moans were music to Yuta’s ears, motivating him to make sure you were given the best orgasm possible. He wasn’t happy until you were.

He quickened his pace slightly and you were caught off guard, but you loved it. You knew he was getting close to his climax based on his new rhythm. Of course, all you could think of was how deep he was inside you as well as how he kept hitting that sweet spot. Your body was so sensitive that when Yuta had reached up to tweak one of your nipples you shivered. He really knew just what to do with you.

His other hand was on your hip, gripping tightly to keep you in place. You had started to squirm underneath him, and as cute as you were, he wanted you to stop moving. He held your hips down as he thrust quickly inside you. You were both getting closer to your orgasms, but Yuta had to make sure you came first.

Yutah reached down between your legs and began to rub small circles on your clit, making you moan nothing but his name and random profanities. He smirked against your skin as he went back to kissing and nibbling on your neck, stimulating every part of you. His fingers were moving in time with his thrusts and you swore you could see stars. You could feel that familiar knot in your stomach begin to unravel with each passing second. “I-I’m gonna-“

“I know. Come for me, beautiful,” his sweet words were all you needed to let go. You felt your body tense up and your toes curl as your orgasm took over. You couldn’t even make a sound because it just felt that good. It didn’t matter how many times you’d been with Yuta, he always made you come harder than the previous time. You were one lucky girl to have a man like him.

Yuta couldn't hold back anymore when he felt your walls pulse against his cock. As you came down from your high, Yuta moved his hips faster to reach his own climax, making you moan from the overstimulation that you not so secretly enjoyed. He knew it too. Yuta grabbed your hands and placed them over your head, squeezing them tightly as he came, painting your walls with his cum. He groaned and his hips began to falter as he came down from his own intense orgasm.

Yuta stilled above you before leaning down and kissing you softly. You smiled into your kiss, keeping him inside you as you lay together. “I love you, Yuta. Happy birthday,”

#Yuta X reader #Yuta Smut #NCT Smut #NCT127 Smut #Nakamoto Yuta #Yuta Nakamoto #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #NCT127 fanfic #i love him so much #i hope he had a great birthday #love of my life

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dairy-farmer · 30 days

Note

You know that annoying "redeemed by a Good Woman/redeemed by puss" troupe?

I just remembered Match :Dc

Kon's evil Clone twin. The one where they actually SUCCEEDED and he's totally down to kill Superman and is also super unstable physically etc.

But consider!

Secret Relationship! Bats are paranoid after all. Can't let our enemies or Dads know we're dating! Or fuuuuuckin.

So when the switch happens? And "Superboy" gets a nasty blow to the head that gives him spotty memory? Of COURSE his... "Best Friend"(tm) wink wink nudge nudge, is gonna take care of him. The whole team obviously knows. But no one else does.

So Match has no idea what's happening.

Has he been Made? THAT FAST? Shit, Bats really ARE something else. Better kill hi-... why is he hugging me? This... IS a hug, right? He's never had one before. It's not awful.

And so Match keeps pretending to be Kon. Slowly gets "better". Forgot a lot about Robin and their Relationship, of course, so they have to start basicly over. But isn't Rob the BEST? So patient! Hand holding. Cuddles. Tender kisses.

Hand jobs.

It blows Match's MIND. This? This is fantastic. No one tells him what to do, treats him like an animal, calls him an "it", and?? He gets all these soft touches and kisses? Robin's even talking about maybe having sex "again"!

Fuck. He is TOTALLY stealing the other clone's Life. RIP to that guy. His now.

Except? No The Fuck You Don't, Bitch(tm). Kon is actively waging a one man war against his captors. Fuck these guys. Luthor in particular. He has a boyfriend to get back too and a Usurper to curbstomp. Or fuck. Depends on how hot he is and if he's a dick. Kon DOES have a well known incest kink.

Might keep him.

But back with Match? B-be gentle with him Robin~ *bats eyelashs* *shoulder smack* they're doing the whole shebang. Cabin by a lake. Pizza and dancing. Sparkling grape juice since booze won't effect "kon" anyway.

Just? Everything Tim can think off to make it fun and memorable. He even remembered lube this time, because NOW he knows Kon is too big to take without a little help. It's like a do-over, almost.

It's ALSO the moment Match's loyalties completely fuckin switch. Ride or Die with THIS guy, specifically. [Robin has given Match: The Sex. Match will now willingly die for Robin.]

It's a literally life-changing First Time for Match and a Really Good for Tim. Laughing and tired from dancing, hands roaming each other's bodies, lazily finding what feels good. Tim sighing in pleasure, a pretty little roll of his body arching his back, as he let's his legs fall wide. Smiles at Match.

His hands still loosing hugging Match close, his kissable lips, soft in a lazy grin. The body under Match relaxed and full of trust. Touching him back. Just to feel his skin, too make him feel good too. Looking at him like he's wonderful. Like he's worth loving.

IS Loved.

Match wants to worship this. Steal it away. To hell with the world and "saving" it. He uses a brain meant for grand battle strategies, to memories every twitch and squeeze around his rocking fingers. What makes Rob feel good. What makes him feel BETTER.

Kisses his way down.

Gentle. Careful, so careful. He has so much strength.

He wishes he could suck, but doesn't trust himself. Luckily his tounge draws delight anyway. He let Rob roll them. Feels cradled, between those thighs, as Rob desperately rides his face.

Takes so much control for Rob to stop. He's shaking with it. He wants to continue so BAD. But wants Match's cock more. So Match gets passed the lube. Blindly fumbles to get ready.

He hears something, flying. Probably a plane. Not important. Robin's important. Lifts him so EASY. Feels him shudder, turned on by how easy Match moves him. They line up, and Match slides in like he's always been there. He has to let go or his grip will get too tight. Amazing. Wet, hot, soft... w-words... he can't...

And THAT'S when he gets a sharp stab to the arm with an injecter and a Smiling But PISSED, grabbed-by-the-throat-hard-enough-to-break-the-bed-frame Slam from ACTUAL Kon. Who has escaped.

And found Match in bed with his boyfriend.

The injector has the stabilizing agent they were withholding. The choke hold however? That's for him. Sup, buuuuuddy. Enjoying my boyfriend? Yeah, he DOES feel good. I would know!

Give me a reason not to kill you where you lay :)

Tim is confused as hell. Still horny. But very alarmed. Two Kons? One is clearly NOT Kon. Please tell him it's not the one he's in bed with. He does NOT want to be a cheater! Kon he would NEVER cheat! (Kon knows.)

Match... offers to switch sides? He would kill for Tim. Die for him. Is in love. Wants to be a person. Is mildly to moderately insane but can TOTALLY promise to keep a lid on his Crazy.

.....also this is kinda hot. Wanna make out? Do you think Tim would enjoy that?

Kon? Is basicly? Yyyyyep. That's a 'Me but fucked up' alright! Unfortunate. Hot though. Let's keep him. He's like one of those really, really ugly dogs you kinda can't help but falling in love with.

Tim? Still impaled on SOMEBODY'S dick and just wants to know what's going the fuck on. Face in his hands. Why is he dating this asshole? Why!? *gets smoochs* oh, right. Tim loves him.

Damn it.

Fine! Fuck it! Both of you, I GUESS, get over here. Time to live out some of those fantasies Tim's had but couldn't do with only one boyfriend. Kon! Naked! You! Name? Match. Okay, Match? Move your hips! *vigorous sex noises!!!*

And so they threesome it out! Until Tim can no longer keep up. Then Match n Kon pull on pants and blow up some bases, get pizzas, and come back for "round two". It's a great week!

Tim ends up on bedrest. Looks vaguely mauled. But with a delightfully dewy well-fucked shine~ to complexion.

-🐼🐼🐼

sex with tim getting ppl to stop being evil😍😍😍!

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

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yuseirra · 2 months

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**P3R spoilers**

Full Moon Full Life is Life and Death singing together in harmony (with Death being intrigued by the beauty of life and encouraging life to give it their all while life is determined to pull through without falter)

Color Your Night is about a moon that fell in love with a special someone and their beloved reciprocating their affection back with a kind heart

I really can't unhear this and apparently the songwriter really did say something like that along the lines(in the persona magazine there was a mention that the latter show the warmth and kindness of the moon and as for the prior, lotus juice seems to have said full moon full life has a more friendly approach towards death as compared to the original p3 in a commentary)

These songs align with ryoji and the mc's relationship and what ryoji's said about how connections are formed both ways. They have a bond and they appreciate each other. It's what their whole link was about, forging a relationship on the paths of life and accepting death as a friend. I was really looking forward to what they'd do with this character because I had a big hunch after having seen the opening sequence AND the song that went with it.. I take these as their song and it's not so wrong considering what they're supposed to symbolize, P3R's approach towards the inevitable end is much warmer and tender! I believe that's one of the main themes, if not the theme of the game. While it's unstoppable, it could also be part of what gives life more meaning and makes it more precious..

I think that's really beautiful and it's what I like seeing, it also helps when death is one of the most loving and sweetest character you get in this franchise, isn't that a pretty sight!!

When you listen to the songs with this in mind, you can see ryoji's love towards life and the protagonist's immense.. He cares for him so much-to be fair, he has always been that way-and this time the protagonist does care for him back and considers him dear. That was made more obvious not just in the songs but in reload too, mc treasures his friendship with ryoji!! I feel that's very wholesome.

#ryoji mochizuki #ryomina #persona 3 reload #persona #and I'm not saying this because I'm a shipper or sth..; it's an analysis #I genuinely believe the songs do imply these sort of message #persona 3 reload spoilers #spoilers #I ship shuyuka so hard but ryomina is so so so wholesome and I appreciate them a whole lot too #it has to do with the plot and the message as well!!!#so ryomina nation rise I say #this is your stuff-it's your song!! I can confirm #and it's my new fav songs from the franchise.. you have it SO GOOD!!#you gotta say.. ryoji loves the protags so much #he's a sweetheart #p3 reload

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xoxo-sarah · 4 months

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Let Me Show You

↝a/n: early Valentine's fic.

↝pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!reader

↝warning: slightly suggestive, Valentine's Day, kissing, lonely Steve, frustrated reader, not proofread

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Buckley, or any character from Stranger Things. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 2.1.24

As the warm sunlight filtered through the curtains, you stirred from your slumber, feeling the soft warmth of Robin's body beside you. It was Valentine's Day, and you had planned a special day for just the two of you. Gently, you brushed your fingers against Robin's cheek, inviting her to wake up with you.

As you both lazily opened your eyes, a soft smile stretched across your face. "Happy Valentine's Day." you whispered, leaning in for a tender kiss.

The start of the day was great. It wasn't until you two were in the kitchen, trying to put together breakfast that the phone rang, interrupting the intimate atmosphere.. Robin left your side to get it.

Frustration clouded your face when she made it known who was in the phone. "Steve, some of us have significant others who we celebrate Valentine's with." Her tone was playful, but you knew she secretly meant it. Every holiday started with a call from Steve. It was mostly to complain about him being single on such days. You and Robin had to invite Steve out of pity. You didn't mind it much. But Valentine's Day is the day for "lovers", not lovers and their friend.

You plucked the phone from her hand, "What do you want, Steve? Can't you see it's a special day?"

Steve's voice crackled through the line, his tone oblivious to your annoyance. "Hey, sorry to bother you, but I need Robin's help with something for work. It's kinda urgent."

You exchanged a knowing look with Robin. "Steve, listen up. Today is Valentine's Day, and Robin and I have plans. It's really not a good time for work."

Robin chimed in, her voice laced with both irritation and playfulness. "Yeah, Steve. Can't you see we're busy here? Leave us alone for a change."

Steve's tone changed, realization dawning upon him. "Oh! Oh, wow, sorry. I didn't realize it was Valentine's Day. My bad. I'll, uh, figure it out myself. Enjoy your day!"

As you hung up, Robin wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer

You smirked, leaning into her touch. "Thought you didn't care for Valentine's Day?"

Robin chuckled, her voice full of warmth and desire. "I don't. I just want to spend time with you."

You pinch her side, "How about you let me show you just how head over heels in love we can be, without all the cheesy stuff."

The rest of the day was filled with shared laughter, passionate kisses, and sweet, intimate moments that reaffirmed your love for each other. With each passing moment and bruising kiss, you both realized that Valentine's Day was simply a day to celebrate the love you had for one another, regardless of anyone else's expectations.

And in the midst of stolen glances and lingering touches, you both knew that this Valentine's Day would forever be etched in your memories as the day you affirmed that love transcends clichés and thrives on the genuine connection between two people.

At the end of the day, you did feel bad for poor, lonely Steve. So, who would it hurt if you invited him over for a movie night? It isn't third wheeling if he's invited.

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

#📼#robin buckley #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x y/n #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fluff #xoxo-sarah 🩷

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chubphoe-linkclick · 2 months

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People like to point to a lot of random scenes in Link Click to justify why ShiGuang being romantic is canon. Now, I'm not the creator of Link Click, I have no authority on the subject. So most the time, it's a "lets agree to disagree" situation.

However, there is one scene from Episode 1 that I find down-right offensive for people to point to as evidence of Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang being an item:

There is no doubt that this scene is incredibly beautiful and loving, but romance isn't what makes this scene beautiful, nor is it what makes the bond they share so touching and engaging to watch. The fact that they honest-to-God love and care about each other is.

What makes this particular scene really lovely is information we're given later in the show. Its full tenderness only clicks in hindsight once we know more about the characters and Cheng Xiaoshi's past. Specifically, when we understand more about how their powers work and the tragic fact that Xiaoshi is (effectively) an orphan.

So we need to back up a few steps.

The scene begins with us seeing Emma dreaming about her parents, and we eventually see a visual representation of how Cheng Xiaoshi is also experiencing this dream as her, taking on her feelings.

Then there's her parents leaving, metaphorical for how out of her life they are now and how much Emma misses her parents (duh).

The fun part comes from the fact that it's not Emma we see as a child at this point, but Xiaoshi. He is being left behind by his parents.

Look at this face. IT'S THE FACE OF PAIN, and for me it honestly didn't make sense why this dream was as emotionally impactful for him as it was (on my first watchthrough).

Afterwards Cheng Xiaoshi wakes up, and Lu Guang notices this. At times like this, I really appreciate the dub for localising what's being said better than the more literal subtitles (even though the dub definitely says some shit that just ain't true). The dub's word choices are:

LG: "You're up?" CXS: "I dreamt that I had spring rolls with my parents." LG: "Folks on your mind?" CXS: "Yeah, and they're on hers as well."

LG: "When you became her, you took on some of her feelings and her memories. It must be tough." CXS: "... I wonder if they'll come back."

and then Cheng Xiaoshi rolls over and starts hugging himself tightly because of the unbearable pain

It takes a hot second for Lu Guang to realise what Cheng Xiaoshi actually means by his statement, that the 'they' in question is his own parents rather than anyone in Emma's life. Naturally, Lu Guang understands that Cheng Xiaoshi is suffering immensely right now because Xiaoshi's being forced to feel the agonising hole is his life that came from the worst thing that ever happened to him.

And so, he reaches through time and space (metaphorically?) to comfort him, his all-time best friend and, yes, potential romantic partner, telling him that "It will work out, just rest." Because SWEET JESUS, WHO WOULDN'T TRY COMFORTING THEIR FRIEND IN THAT MOMENT!? WHO??

It's beautiful. It's sweet. It's loving. It shows how in-tune they are to each other and that they care about each other's well being. No macho shit here, only a wholesome connection that we are all jealous of and celebrate.

Bonus analysis: knowing Cheng Xiaoshi's emotional state at this point, his re-suffering of the pain from being separated from his parents, then makes the message from Emma's mother and his reaction to it all the more emotionally touching.

Maybe the reason he sent the reply "I miss you" wasn't even for Emma's sake in that moment, but a result of the line between his own loneliness and hers having become so blurred in that sleepy moment.

I'd just like to clarify again, if you think they're gay together: cool. If you think this scene is the reason why: not cool.

Romance isn't the highest form of love, and it's not gay or weird to love your friends. What Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang have is really beautiful, and I honestly don't think I've ever seen such a great depiction of two men who are so comfortably close to each other.

Whether their relationship is platonic or otherwise doesn't really matter here. What upsets me is the unhealthy elevation of romantic love as the most true and purest form of love over all other kinds -- that you can only care about someone this much and want them in your life ONLY if you want to marry them or something -- an idea that ends up hurting a lot of people.

Romance isn't what makes this scene beautiful, nor is it what makes the bond they share so touching and engaging to watch. The fact that they honest-to-God love and care about each other is.

#link click #shiguang dailiren #link click analysis #cheng xiaoshi #lu guang #whatever they have is lightyears ahead of human comprehension #bros that travel through time together stay together #no homo tho

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andy-15-07 · 2 months

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Movie Night

A true love Masterlist

Pairing: Rudy Pankow x reader x Drew Starkey

Summary:A movie night filled with love.

Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist | Playlist

The cozy glow of string lights illuminated the living room as Rudy , Drew , and Y/n settled onto the plush couch, a mountain of blankets and pillows surrounding them. It was one of those rare nights when their hectic schedules aligned, allowing them to indulge in a much-needed movie night together.

Y/n snuggled between Rudy and Drew, her head resting on Drew's shoulder as Rudy draped an arm around her, pulling her close. The scent of popcorn filled the air, a comforting reminder of the simple pleasures of home.

"So, what are we watching tonight?" Rudy asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Drew grinned mischievously, holding up a stack of DVDs. "I brought a few options," he said, waggling his eyebrows. "But I was thinking we could start with something classic, like 'The Princess Bride'."

Y/n's eyes lit up at the suggestion. "I love that movie!" she exclaimed, her smile infectious.

Rudy nodded in agreement, reaching for the remote. "Sounds perfect to me," he said, his voice warm with enthusiasm.

As the movie began to play, the room was filled with laughter and chatter, the familiar lines of the film bringing back fond memories of childhood. Snuggled together under the blankets, Rudy, Drew, and Y/n lost themselves in the magic of storytelling, their worries and cares melting away with each passing moment.

Halfway through the movie, Drew reached for the bowl of popcorn, his hand accidentally brushing against Y/n's. Their eyes met, a silent exchange passing between them as they shared a knowing smile. Rudy glanced between them, his heart swelling with affection at the sight of his two loves.

"Hey, no fair hogging all the popcorn," Rudy teased, reaching across Y/n to grab a handful.

Y/n giggled, swatting playfully at Rudy's hand. "There's plenty to go around," she said, her laughter infectious.

As the movie drew to a close, the room was filled with a sense of contentment, the warmth of their love wrapping around them like a cozy blanket. Drew stretched his arms overhead, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

"That was perfect," he said, his voice soft with emotion.

Rudy nodded in agreement, pressing a tender kiss to Y/n's temple. "Yeah, it really was," he said, his voice filled with love.

Y/n snuggled closer to Rudy, her heart overflowing with gratitude for the two incredible men by her side. "I'm so lucky to have you both," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Drew smiled, his eyes shining with adoration. "We're the lucky ones," he said, his voice husky with emotion.

In that moment, as they basked in the glow of the movie night serendipity, Rudy, Drew, and Y/n knew that they were exactly where they were meant to be: together, bound by a love that defied all odds and stood the test of time.

As the credits rolled, they remained entwined in each other's arms, savoring the simple joy of being together. And as they drifted off to sleep, their hearts full of love and gratitude, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, united in their love for each other.

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madaqueue · 2 months

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Dripping in Gold | Chapter 4

synopsis: finding a job was never easy, and why even bother trying after you meet satoru gojo, a man with mysterious and exorbitant wealth, who wants nothing more than to spoil you with it? the only caveat to your little arrangement is that it can never, ever, become personal.

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader [toji fushiguro x f!reader]

themes/content: non-curse modern au, sugar daddy gojo. language, fluff, angst. kissing. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.2k

a/n: toji jumpscare!

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The feeling floats around in your mind as you process the implications. Gojo didn’t pay you, and you didn’t care. No, that can’t be right, because then it would mean that you were just seeing him because you…what? Like spending time with him? Have feelings for him? Fuck no.

You told yourself - and he told you - that this was just casual. This was just a way for you to make some money while you look for a job, nothing more.

But then why do you get butterflies when you see him? Why do you find yourself laughing with him like it’s the easiest thing you’ve ever done? Why do you count down the hours until you can see him each week?

You toss your phone across the room, landing on your bed as you stand up and pace around your apartment, trying to regain some semblance of control over your emotions. Okay, sure, seeing him is nice and all, but you could live without him if you needed to, right? The question suddenly sends a pang of dread through your stomach at the idea of not getting to be with him.

Shit.

So maybe you do like to be around him, but it’s just because of the sex, right? Against your will, images of your dates flash through your mind - the two of you sitting across from each other as he teases you for not knowing how to use chopsticks, or you wiping whipped cream off his nose after he got a bit too excited about the cake you ordered to share, or the way his arms would wrap around your waist, pulling you into a hug the moment he sees you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Shit, shit, shit.

It’s okay, they’re just feelings, and you can ignore them, right? You’re strong, in control, and-

Your thoughts get cut short as you hear your phone buzz, lunging to grab it just in case it might be Gojo.

When you see his name lighting up the screen you feel your cheeks blush in excitement. Your thumb moves to answer before you have a chance to think about the way your body reacted to him calling.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he purrs, his voice low over the phone.

“Hi, Satoru,” you hum, trying to ignore how giddy you are to talk to him.

“I know I just saw you yesterday, but I just can’t seem to remember what your voice sounded like when you were moaning my name. Any chance you’d be free to refresh my memory?” he flirts.

You chuckle at his cheesy attempt at a pickup line. “I am free, but you really have to start working on those lines, that was one of your worst ones yet.”

“Mmm, I dunno, they can’t possibly be that bad if they keep working,” he taunts, and you can hear his smile through the phone. “I’ll be over in 15 minutes, don’t worry about changing or anything, you know how much I love you in those pajamas of yours.”

“Okay, ‘Toru,” you laugh softly, “See you soon.”

He hangs up and you lay back onto your bed, your heart feeling like it’s about to beat out of your chest, a mix of nervousness and excitement building inside you. It wasn’t typical to get to see him twice in one week, especially back to back like this, and you still aren’t sure what to do about your possible feelings for him.

Should you tell him? You have to, right? The worst he can say is no. Sighing, you gather your thoughts.

With a new resolution, you decide you are going to tell him. Besides, it’s honestly not that hard to believe he feels the same - the way he treats you, the way he looks at you, the way he fucks you, everything about him is so soft and tender, full of adoration and kindness. Nobody just acts like that with someone they don’t care about - right?

–

Punctual as ever, you meet him downstairs exactly 15 minutes later. As you step outside of your apartment complex, the cold morning air hits your skin through the t-shirt and shorts you slept in. Looking down, you smile, realizing it’s actually Gojo’s t-shirt that currently adorns your body.

Walking towards his car, he gets out to greet you, pulling you into the warmth of his body. The scent of his cologne hangs on his sweater as you wrap your arms around him. Placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head, he shifts his gaze down to your lips before pressing his against yours as you reach up on your toes to lean into him.

“It’s good to see you,” he whispers, pulling away for a moment to rest his forehead against yours, a sweet grin on his face.

Truthfully, he always feels like he’s smiling when he’s around you - how could he not? Everything about you brings him more joy than he’s felt in his life up to this point: your laugh, the way you tease him back when he’s being an idiot, how you treat him with a kindness he’s never known before you. He adores you so much it sometimes feels like his heart might burst, especially when he gets to see you like this. Of course he loves when you get all dressed up to go out with him - especially when he gets to see you after a date, hair messy, mascara running, legs shaking after he fucks you - but this is his favorite version of you as you stand in your pajamas, tiredness still slightly evident in your eyes, with a warm casualness he never knew he craved until you.

You pull him out of his thoughts with a whisper of his name. “Before we go anywhere, I-I need to tell you something,” you follow, voice wavering.

“Of course, anything sweetheart,” he responds softly, trying to comfort you - he’s not sure what has you nervous, but he can sense it in the way you shift in his arms.

Breaking eye contact with him, you take in a breath, trying to steady yourself under the weight of your confession. “I…I think I want more.”

“More money? Absolutely princess, name your price,” he follows immediately, raising a hand up to stroke your cheek. You are worth everything to him, and he’ll give it all if it means he gets to keep seeing you.

“No, Satoru, I mean…” you trail off, shaking your head, gaze still glued to the ground, “I mean more from us. I don’t want you to pay me anymore, I just want you.”

Gojo feels like the wind just got knocked out of him, he can’t breathe as your words cloud his mind. “W-what?” he stutters.

“I have feelings for you,” you state, finally bringing your eyes up to meet his. You feel nervous tears building along your lashes as you desperately try to steady your breathing, waiting for his answer.

In a moment, you watch emotion flash across his face - his eyebrows furrow and raise, a frown tugging at the corner of his mouth, eyes suddenly glassy as he struggles to keep them focused on you. He takes in a shaky breath, the only word leaving his mouth a soft, “Oh.”

Fuck. There it is. He doesn’t feel the same. You knew it, you knew he was too good to be true, you knew he would never care about you the way you care about him. You were so fucking stupid for letting yourself think this could be anything more; it’s your fault for forgetting what this whole arrangement was supposed to be. He told you it was casual, and you tried to change the rules. It’s all your fault. Fuck.

“I-” he stammers, trying to comfort you as he can see sadness building on your face. “I’m sorry. But you know that’s not how this works, sweetheart,” he whispers, afraid that if he raises his voice any louder it would crack from heartache. A tragic smile forms on his lips as he realizes that he’s about to lose the one thing he wants most.

As silence settles between you, the tears welling in your eyes start to slowly spill out. His thumb instinctively reaches out to wipe them away before you look down, brushing his hand away.

“Y-you’re right, I’m sorry, it was stupid,” you manage to softly choke out, breaking out of his grasp. “I-I have to go, sorry,” you turn around with your head down, trying to hide the tears spilling down your face.

Satoru freezes in shock as you run back into your apartment building. He wants to yell, beg, scream, cry, anything to make you turn around and come back into his arms. He wants to tell you he’ll be yours for eternity, that he’ll pull the stars down from the sky if it means you’ll be his. But he can’t; all he can do is stand there and watch you leave him. A single tear falls from his eyes and hits the concrete beneath him before he walks back into his car, alone. Inside, he suddenly feels himself break down, cries racking his body. How could he be so stupid? How could he let you go?

–

Back in your apartment, you land on your bed as your body shakes through sobs. You knew it was a bad idea to tell him, you knew it, but you did it anyway - why? Why did you have to go and throw away the best thing you had? God, you feel so stupid. All you can do is curl up and cry, holding yourself the way you wish Satoru would hold you.

You know you can’t see him again, you can’t text him, you can’t call him. You messed this up, and you have to live with the consequences of it. You don’t even care about the money or the food or the clothes; all you care about is him. And now, he’s gone, because of you.

–

A few months go by as you let yourself mourn the loss of Gojo’s presence in your life. You slowly work your way through the money you had accumulated and take the time to try and heal your broken heart. Eventually, you know you’ll have to move on, but it takes everything in you to not cry whenever you see something that reminds you of him. You’ve had to move all of the clothes he got you into the back corner of your closet, hiding the jewelry he got you because it “matched your eyes.” Every memory with him becomes painful, and you struggle to go anywhere because every place reminds you of him.

Finally, after numerous pathetic months, you get a notification from your bank: your rent payment bounced. You’ve finally run out of Gojo’s generosity, and now you’re back in the exact same place you were when you started this whole thing, only more emotionally damaged.

When you were with him you paused your job search, not needing one with the excess wealth that seemed to follow him everywhere. After you stopped seeing him you gave up because you just didn’t have the energy or willpower to pretend to be happy for an hour-long interview. Now, the gravity of your poor decisions weighs on you, your chest heavy as you struggle to think of a solution.

As you lay in your bed, you pull out your laptop as the memories of how everything started flood back to you. Absentmindedly, your fingers type in the name of the same website that led you to Gojo all those months ago.

This is stupid, what am I even doing? you think to yourself as your screen once again fills with pictures of older men, this time with the notable lack of the white-haired one who originally caught your attention.

Scanning the page, your thoughts start turning in your mind. I mean, I do still need the money. And maybe it could help me get over him?

Your eyes land on a dark-haired man wearing a shirt that is clearly too tight for him. You scoff, Satoru would never wear something like that. Moving to close your laptop in defeat, the thought finally registers in your mind. Why are you still comparing everyone to Gojo?

A mix of anger at yourself and at him bubbles up inside you as you reopen your computer and click on the profile of the man you just mentally insulted. Looking closer, you notice a small scar marking the corner of his mouth as you scroll through his pictures until you find one of him shirtless.

Holy shit, he’s built.

Gojo was toned and everything, but you could still wrap your arms around him if you tried, whereas this guy looked like his arms were as thick as your torso, his chest covered in muscles. You almost find yourself drooling at him as you keep scrolling until you find his name.

Bio: “Toji. 37.”

It certainly gives you less to go off of than Gojo’s, but at least he doesn’t seem as bad as the other guys on the site. What the hell, you think as you type out a message.

You: Hi Toji ❤️

It’s simple, but hopefully your pictures are enough to get his attention. Almost immediately, a message pops up below yours.

Toji: $1000 if I’m fucking you in the next 30 minutes.

Well, at least he’s straightforward.

After a bit of back and forth to confirm his address, you grab your keys and walk out of your apartment to meet him.

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gabessquishytum · 2 months

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I’ll be honest I read that last pregnant mobster dream post as being about both dream and hob being pregnant.

So…yes dream is a pregnant mobster and hob is his favorite local pub owner who is…uh…also heavily pregnant.

They’re helping each other out! There are lots of hormones to deal with and both need foot massages and it makes Hob happy to have someone else going through his pregnancy with him.

Hob calls dream when he feels his baby kick! Dream buys two of everything—one diaper bag for himself, one for hob.

And dream knows it isn’t rational but he’s so glad hob is single now because even though it’s clearly hypocritical, as Dream is also pregnant, he can’t stand the idea that hob might have someone else in his and baby robin’s lives!

They are his and orpheus’s now and no one else’s.

We love a simultaneous pregnancy!!! Hell yeah, imagine the adorable contrasts between them. Hob is in big t-shirts and stretchy maternity leggings, meanwhile Dream is still trying to squeeze into his crisp, professional suits. He's a disaster waiting to happen, and Hob definitely has to lend him a hoodie on at least one occasion when his shirt can't handle the strain any longer.

With two sets of hormones swinging all over the place, the bickering between these two is legendary. Seeing them snipping at each other, you'd think they can't stand to be in the same room. Of course that's not the case (but if Dream eats his snacks again, Hob will not be holding back his temper). If they're not affectionately arguing, then they're absolutely so obviously in love. Everyone can see it, apart from them. All the soft looks and the tenderness and the longing. Hob is constantly checking up on Dream, touching the side of his belly with a smile that's full of adoration. If anything, Dream is even more obvious in his affections for Hob. He practically acts as though they're already in a relationship, and no one has ever treated Hob with such care and dedication before.

Unfortunately they're both stupid, and convinced that it's better for everything to remain strictly platonic.

After their two sons are born, life is very frantic. Dream has moved in to Hob’s flat (he spent one night alone with newly born Orpheus and simply couldn't do it again, and who can blame him!), the babies are practically twins with only 10 days between them. It's all milk and nappies and attempting to snatch a moment of sleep. Somewhere along the line, they start sharing Hob’s bed for the few hours between feeds. Cuddling up together for comfort just feels natural. Hob cries for the first time because his body is saggy and soft and he thinks he might never go back to how he was. Dream wipes his tears and calls him beautiful, even more beautiful now that he's carried and delivered a wonderful new life. One night Dream confesses that he's terrified for the future, for Orpheus, terrified that he's going die on the job and leave his baby. Hob holds him the whole time and promises firmly that Orpheus will always be safe with him.

One day Hob kisses Dream good morning (he's sleep deprived, still practically dreaming), and Dream kisses him back. Its as simple as that, apparently. Both of them are grinning as they go about the day - too exhausted for any kind of sex, but very much looking forward to soft kisses and cuddles when the opportunity arises.

Robyn and Orpheus are lucky. One of their dads owns an Inn, with an amazing kitchen full of nice food and nice people. Their other dad has a big box full of guns and rolls of cash and other interesting things that they're not allowed to touch. Hob’s definitely the one going to "parents come and talk about what their jobs are" day at school. But Dream is the one picking the boys up in a range rover flanked by 6 body guards. Their dads are also very VERY in love. Even if it took them both a hot minute to work it out!

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw mpreg #mafia au

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sirenlulls · 1 year

Text

call it what you want → r. valdovinos

pairing — richie valdovinos x fem!reader

summary — after a cold night and shared secret insecurities, something as simple as your outfit puts richie's mind at ease.

written for this request

i want to wear his initial on a chain 'round my neck. not because he owns me, but 'cause he really knows me...

you were beautiful, richie knew that. in fact, most of the rydell student body, and anybody else with eyes, knew that. your eyes were downcast, bashfully following the cracks in the pavement of your driveway as he walked you to the door, his jacket wrapped tightly around your shoulders.

when you got to the door, you seemed to finally notice his staring, and richie felt his heart stop when you laughed at his lovestruck face. he almost didn't care that you were laughing at him. you looked at each other for a few beats more, not daring to break the sweet silence that hung between you.

but the fall chill was starting to seep into your bones, and you found yourself twisting the doorknob, snapping richie out of his daze. "i guess i should get going then." his words were hesitant as he scratched the back of his neck.

"yeah." you nodded before casting your eyes inside, seeing the lights off and realising your parents were asleep. "unless..." your words made richie spin back around to face you so fast you wouldn't be surprised if he had whiplash. "unless you want to come inside for a bit?"

"yes. mhm. absolutely." he nodded, jogging back up to the door where you stood giggling, quietly closing the door behind him and taking his hand and leading him to your room.

you kicked off your shoes and fell onto your bed, richie following suit. staring at the ceiling in comfortable quiet, your hand found his, and with a tight squeeze they rested intertwined between you both.

richie looked around your room, eyes casting over the pink ladies jacket hanging over the chair by your desk, the full bookshelves lined around the walls, the pile of books you had no other space for beside them, and finally the pinboard by your vanity and the pictures that decorated it.

it was moments like that, no matter how few and far between they were, where richie realised just how different the two of you were, and why nobody else knew about your relationship. you were popular, loved, adored, despite your proud pink lady alignments. he wasn't. it wasn't that you were ashamed of him, you don't think you ever could be, but richie knew how important your future was and hell would freeze over before he let himself be the reason you fall from grace.

"what's goin' on in that head of yours?" you asked softly, lying on your side and looking at him with a fond smile. he shook his head. "it's nothin'" you sat up straight, suddenly more concerned. "that means it's definitely something." richie sighed, sitting beside you. "c'mon, rich, talk to me." he looked at you, brows furrowed in desperation and hand gently cupping his face.

"are you really sure i'm the one you want?"

silence.

"excuse me?"

"it's just- i don't know, you could have lot more than i can give you. 'ts all i'm saying." he raised his hands in defense at your raised brows and dropped jaw.

"richie valdovinos, listen to what i'm about to say, and listen real good. i wouldn't care if elvis presley himself was knocking at my door, ready to take me to graceland, i'd still choose you. i will always choose you. i don't care what else you think i could have because i already have everything i want — everything i need. i love you, don't ever forget that."

"you really mean that?" he looked away, suddenly overwhelmed by the tenderness of your stare, you guided him to face you again. "i mean it with everything in me."

you kissed him then, slow and heartfelt, and he only wished that you could feel every sentiment he couldn't yet put into words. how, no matter how much you say you love him, he'll always insist he loves you more. and he does. ever since the day he met you, richie's heart wasn't his own, it sat locked away in your pretty ballerina jewelry box, and it would stay there forevermore.

he pulled away only when his lungs burned and he felt as if he'd die, forehead resting against yours. "i should be getting back home." you rolled your lips. "call me when you get there so i know you're okay." "of course." with one fleeting kiss and a cheeky smile, richie crept down the stairs and out the door. you flopped back into your pillows, dumb smile on your face and butterflies in your stomach.

it wasn't until long after he was gone, when he'd hung up the phone and probably gone to sleep, that you realised his t-birds jacket lay on your floor. you picked it up and set it over your vanity chair, and, with a light bulb over your head, you knew what you'd do tomorrow.

"y/n, bust a move, we're gonna be late!" cynthia yelled from outside. you stuck your head out your bedroom window, smiling at your friend, "one minute!" you looked in the mirror, tightening your ponytail and fixing your lipstick, spinning around and admiring your outfit, grinning proudly and the t-bird logo staring back at you. you practically ran down the stairs towards cynthia who wolf-whistled at richie's jacket. "when can i get me one of those?" she joked, handing you a spare helmet as you hopped onto her bike. "i'll put in a good word for you." you winked back.

when you got to the school, you could feel eyes burning into your sides and whispers buzzing through your ears. jane and olivia walked up to you two, matching smirks on their faces and excited gleams in their eyes. "so that's why he didn't have the jacket this morning." olivia mused, nudging you with her elbow as you all walked to your locker.

"does this mean you guys are, like, official official now? like, public official?" jane asked, squealing and grabbing your arm when you nodded.

"what is this?" nancy demanded, suddenly appearing at the locker beside yours. "where's the pink lady represention? there's enough t-birds to carry their own weight, they don't need to steal you too." you laughed, throwing your arm around her shoulder. "nobody's stealing me, nance. still a pink lady through and through. if it makes you feel any better, i can try get richie to wear my jacket next time."

"i'd like that!" cynthia interruped, making you all laugh. nancy failed to hide her smile. "i guess it's sort of cute." the five of you started to walk to class, gossiping and giggling over the incredulous looks you got.

"didn't know you were a thief, l/n." someone teased from behind you, you turned around to see richie smiling at you. "it's for a good cause." you turned and nodded your head slightly to the girls, telling them to go ahead and you'd catch up. "oh yeah? what would that cause be?" "fashion," you leaned closer to whisper to him, "and to show everyone i have a very handsome, very amazing boyfriend." he smiled, biting the inside of his cheek. "well, who would i be to stop such a noble mission? keep it for now. it looks good on you." you beamed and kissed his cheek, laughing at the slight stain it left behind.

"you'll look even better in mine." you winked before turning on your heel and running to catch up with the girls. "wait, what?!" he responded. "you have to return the favour yet, valdovinos!" you called over your shoulder, throwing your head back in a laugh.

richie shook his head fondly as gil came up beside him, clapping a hand down on his shoulder. "am i looking at the latest pink lady?" he teased. "shut up, man." richie laughed, shoving him off, looking down the hallway to see you laughing with Nancy once more before going to your class.

#requested ✉️#richie valdovinos x reader #grease: rise of the pink ladies x reader #grease: rise of the pink ladies #rise of the pink ladies x reader #grease x reader #cynthia zdunowski #richie valdovinos #jane facciano #olivia valdovinos #nancy nakagawa

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