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#viens the better
feline-evil · 2 months
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Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease i'm so tired of this experience happening to me
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speaching · 1 year
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I don't think people play with healing factors enough. Like yeah, enhanced healing is cool and healing quickly is convenient. But even if you heal fast you can still heal wrong.
Like heroes having to quickly leave fights so they can splint broken limbs before they heal incorrectly. Or situations where they couldn't and have issues because of it
Getting shrapnel stuck in your body because your skin knitted over it too fast
Or having chronic pain and limited motion in one arm from a broken arm that couldn't get the attention it needed soon enough
Just think of characters begging for the villian to let go so they can fix the potential issue.
Right? Or alternatively, the villian is the one begging. Like they know they're evil and shouldn't be forgiven but the thought of something bad happening that could horribly effect the rest of their life still scares them.
Also a good possible form of torture. Breaking, healing, breaking, healing incorrectly, breaking again, and the cycle just continues.
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cparti-mkiki · 1 year
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where in the cultural sensitivity discourse does les lacs du connemara rank
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winterslibrary · 2 months
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oh what a way to name a fic
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theostrophywife · 8 months
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focus on me.
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pairing: mattheo riddle x reader request: I NEED MATHEO OR THEODORE X FEM READER AND SHE JUST LOVES HIS HANDS AND ARM VIENS AND SHE WALKS INTO HIS DORM AND IS GOBSMAKED TO SEE HIS ABS AND SHE WANTS TO RIDE THEM AND SHES JUST SO OBSESSED AND THINKS HES THE HOTTEST MAN IN THE PLANET- AND SHE FOLDS LIKE A PRETZEL WHEN HE GIVES HER THOSE EYES- JESUS IM A CATHOLIC BUT THEO AND MATTHEO COULD BE MY NEW RELIGION- author's note: big thanks to @writingsbychlo for listening to me rant about this man in her inbox. posting this now so she can wake up to her mans. the way that i would fold for mattheo so fast (theo look away). anyways, enjoy this purely smutty fic 😮‍💨
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You were supposed to be studying. 
When you came into his dorm, you specifically told Mattheo not to interrupt you under any circumstances. Usually, you preferred the library but some prat had accidentally set off a dung bomb, which meant closure until further notice. 
You tried studying in your dorm, but your fellow housemates decided that there was no better time to throw a back to school bash in the common room than the night before your Ancient Runes exam. Harry and Ron, who shared the same class, appeared completely unbothered as they chugged firewhisky straight from the bottle. 
Your roommate Hermione was long gone. Probably holed up somewhere in the dungeons with Draco. You followed your friend’s cue and snuck into your boyfriend’s dorm, narrowly avoiding Filch. It never seemed fair that the Slytherins got individual rooms, but tonight you had never been more thankful for it. 
Mattheo had set up a whole battle station for you on his desk. There were fresh ink pots, newly sharpened quills, and blank parchment waiting for you when you arrived. After kissing your sweet and considerate boyfriend, you went straight to work. 
By the time midnight struck, the parchment was filled with glowing runes, making your ink stained hands cramp from drawing out the symbols over and over again. To Mattheo’s credit, he kept to himself and read quietly on his bed while you studied. 
You were so engrossed in the material that you barely registered him kissing you on the cheek before leaving to take a shower. That little mistake cost you because as soon as he walked back into his dorm with nothing but a towel on, you nearly spilled fresh ink all over yourself. 
Water trickled down Mattheo’s chest, the little droplets snaking through his perfectly chiseled abs only to disappear beyond his v lines, which pointed like an arrow to what you knew was hiding underneath that towel. 
The fabric hung dangerously low on his hips as he walked over to his dresser to pick out something to wear. You watched with rapt attention as he braced himself against the wood, those delicious, juicy veins protruding from his forearms and nearly making you dizzy with desire. 
Finally, Mattheo turned. The silence had caught his attention and he smirked when he saw you ogling him. 
“See something you like, pretty girl?”
You flushed. “Just got a little distracted.”
Mattheo’s grin grew. He sauntered over to you, leaning over so that he had you caged against the desk. 
“Oh?” he asked, his voice low and husky and absolutely fucking sexy. “Maybe it’s time for a break then. You’ve been such a good girl studying so hard all night. I think you deserve a reward, my love.” 
Your breath hitched as Mattheo’s lips grazed yours. He tilted your chin up, giving you a perfect view of those brown eyes. Then he gave you the look and you knew you were done for. 
It was a look that said he wanted to devour every inch of you until you couldn’t even recall your own name. You gave in. Of course you gave in. How could you not?
“Maybe for a second…”
Mattheo took the opening. One arm snaked around your waist, bringing you up with him as he pressed you against the desk. His other arm crept up your back until he reached the nape of your neck, fisting your hair through his fingers as he kissed you roughly. 
“Do you even know how fucking sexy you are, princess? My smart schoolgirl in her tiny little skirt.” 
Mattheo carefully moved your studying materials aside before picking you up and setting you down on the table. He gripped the top of your thighs and brought you to the edge while sliding his tongue against yours. You whimpered as he grinded against you, showing you exactly how hard he was underneath the towel.
“Been thinking about bending you over this table all night,” Mattheo whispered in your ear. His hand climbed higher up your thigh and you felt your body instantly respond to his touch. “Bet you’re soaking wet for me already, aren’t you angel?”
You moaned as he toyed with the waistband of your panties. “Matty, please.” 
Your boyfriend smiled at your nickname for him, knowing that he had you right where he wanted you. “What is it that you want, darling?”
“Touch me. Please.” 
Mattheo smirked as he tugged your panties off. His lust filled gaze drank you in as he dragged two fingers through your slick folds. 
“Fuck. You’re so wet. Is this all for me, princess?”
“Mhm,” you mumbled, nipping at his neck. “It’s not fair. You play dirty, Matty. You can’t just walk in here with nothing but a towel on.” 
“Why not, angel?”
You sighed, tracing the hard planes of his chest. His muscles flexed under your fingertips as you gently raked your nails against his six pack. “Because you’re sexy and I can’t help myself.” 
Mattheo chuckled darkly, plunging two fingers in your pussy. You bucked against his hand, watching in stunned silence as he withdrew it only to stick his middle and pointer finger into his mouth. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he tasted you on him. 
“This is exactly what I mean,” you whined. “For Godric’s fucking sake, how am I supposed to concentrate after that?”
“Maybe we can compromise, angel.” He shuffled through your parchments and stuck one to the wall. “I’m going to trace the runes inside of you and if you get them all right, then I’ll give you your reward.”
You swallowed thickly and nodded. Mattheo grinned before giving you a quick peck. “Pay attention, sweetheart.” 
His fingers dipped through your folds once more and you gripped his arm, fighting the moan from escaping your lips. Mattheo curled his fingers inside of you, drawing a familiar shape. 
“Urus,” you said in a breathy voice. “It means strength.”
“That’s right, angel.” He shifted as you ran your hands down his arms. You could feel his veins throbbing underneath your palm as he fingered you. “Don’t get distracted now. I know how much you love my hands. I promise they’ll be wrapped around your throat by the end of the night if you get all these right. Now focus.”
You nodded, eyes fluttering close as he traced another rune. “Algiz,” you answered. “For protection.” 
“Hot and smart,” Mattheo announced proudly. “How’d I get so lucky?”
His lips grazed yours and you willingly parted for him, fluttering around his fingers as his tongue slid into your mouth. He pumped his digits inside of you, teasing and taunting. 
“Let’s try something harder, princess.” 
Mattheo’s skillful fingers prodded against your walls, sketching a complicated shape. You closed your eyes and focused. It was a tricky one, but you remembered the cris cross pattern. 
“Inguz,” you said decidedly. “Fertility.” 
“That’s right,” Mattheo said with a smile. “You're doing so well, sweetheart. One more and you can have anything you want.” 
“Anything?” you asked with a small smile.
“Whatever that devious little mind of yours desires, my love.” 
“Okay,” you replied. “I’m ready, then.”
Your boyfriend nodded, staring right into your eyes as he marked the last and final rune. It was an effort not to get lost in those warm, brown eyes. But you steeled yourself, determined to claim your prize.
“Rerth. For luck.”
“Good girl,” Mattheo said with a smirk. “Fitting since you’re getting lucky tonight, angel. Where should we start?” 
You bit your lip, cocking your head at him. It was nearly an impossible choice. You wanted to kiss him. Bite him. Lick him. All of the above and more. 
But there was one thing that stood out from all the other deliciously sinful choices. You pressed your palm against his abs and grinned. 
“I want to ride your abs.”
Mattheo’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected it, but fuck he was so down. He would’ve given you anything with the way you were looking at him right now. 
“You never fail to surprise me,” he said fondly. “Well come on then, let’s make your filthy little fantasy a reality.” 
In one smooth move, he lifted you off the table and deposited you on top of his bed. Mattheo reclined against the headboard and watched with hungry eyes as you straddled his stomach. He smiled as you slipped the tie off your neck and looped it around him. 
It was a simple move, but so fucking sexy and possessive at the same time. You were claiming him. Mattheo was yours and you were his. You belonged to one another—mind, body, and soul. 
Mattheo trailed kisses down your neck and throat, leaving marks on your skin as his deft fingers made quick work of the first few buttons on your blouse. He leaned back and admired his work, his hands gripping your hips while you grinded your soaking wet sex against his muscles. 
He didn’t think it would feel this good. There was something about you using his body to get yourself off that fucking turned him on like no other. Mattheo lifted your skirt up, fisting the fabric in his hands and watching as you coated him with your arousal. 
The little whimpers you were making sounded like music to his ears. “My good little slut,” he said, squeezing your tits as you rode him with reckless abandon. “You’re so fucking filthy, baby. Using me to get yourself off. I’m just your fuck toy aren’t I princess?”
“So good,” you murmured. “You feel so good, Matty.”
The desperation in your voice set him off. He gripped your hips hard enough to bruise and bucked forward, smirking in satisfaction when you moaned. The ridges of his abs rubbed against your clit, providing the perfect amount of pressure to the sensitive area. 
“Keep riding me,” he said in a low, rough voice. “Just like that, angel. Such a good girl for me.”
You closed your eyes, lost to the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Mattheo gripped your chin, his voice rough around the edges as he spoke. “Open your eyes, darling. I want to watch you cum.”
His rich brown eyes pinned you in place, drinking in every detail. That sexy smirk curved against his lips as he hooked his arms behind his head, admiring the view of his girl riding him. 
“Look at you, baby. You’re making such a fucking mess. Such an innocent face, but you turn into a filthy whore when you’re with me.” 
“Only for you, Mattheo.” 
“Damn fucking right,” he said, sliding his hands under your skirt to rub at your clit. 
You bucked against him, riding out the high. Heat exploded in your core and seeped into your veins. Mattheo kissed you roughly, staking his claim on you as he devoured your moans. 
“That’s it, princess. Cum for me, pretty girl.”
The orgasm felt like a lightning strike. It hit you all at once, making your walls spasm as you came all over Mattheo’s abs. He cursed when he felt you soaking him through, utterly turned on by the mess that you’ve made. Mattheo had never been harder in his life. 
Your boyfriend peppered kisses on your face, pulling you taut to him as you came down from the high. Mattheo brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, tilting your chin up so he could press his lips against yours. He groaned and held your hips down, grinding his boner against your ass. 
“I’m not done making you cum, princess. You’ve got one more in you, don’t you angel?” 
As sensitive as you were, your pussy throbbed at his words. When it came to Mattheo, you could never really get enough. 
“I thought I only got one reward. You’re spoiling me, Matty.” 
“There’s no question about it. You’re my spoiled rotten little princess. But this reward isn’t for you, it’s for me.” He smacked your ass, gesturing for you to get up. “Now come on, angel. I was serious about that desk.” 
He smirked as he walked you back to his desk, his hands disappearing underneath your skirt as he massaged your ass. Mattheo kissed you roughly before he flipped you over, bending you on the desk so you were face down and ass up. He flipped your skirt up, hissing when he found you soaking wet again.
“You just can’t help yourself can you, princess?” He pumped himself in his hand before sliding the tip of his cock along your folds. “Gods, you’re fucking wet. Are you ready, baby?” 
You whimpered, rocking your hips against him for more friction. Mattheo held you in place, fisting your hair in his hands. 
“Use your words, darling. I want to hear you beg like the good little slut that you are.” 
“Please, Matty,” you whined. “I need you so badly that it hurts.” 
He kissed the base of your spine, grinning as he eased his length inside of you. Still sensitive from your last orgasm, you gripped the edges of the table as Mattheo buried his cock within your walls. Your legs felt like they were going to give out any minute, but he kept you upright, cursing when he felt how wet and tight you were. 
“Fuck,” he grunted as he thrust into you slowly. Mattheo gripped you from behind, picking up the pace. Your pussy clenched around him like a vice. “Gods, pussy’s so good baby. You’re doing so well. Taking all of me like my perfect little whore.” 
Mattheo fucking adored the way you blushed at his filthy words. He leaned over, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss as he fucked you into the table. He thought he was going to pass the fuck out when you grinded back into him, meeting his movements to take more and more of him. Mattheo leaned over and shielded your head from the wall, making sure you were protected as the table shook underneath you. 
The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with your breathy little moans was enough to send him over the edge, but he wanted to make good on his promise. Mattheo always put his girl first. The boys were right. He might be just a little bit pussy whipped. 
Even without the sex, you could’ve asked Mattheo to kill for you and he would’ve done so without question. 
“I fucking love you, darling. I’d kill for you. I’d die for you,” he said, every word laced with conviction. “Forever and always.” 
“I love you too, Matty. Forever and always.” 
He kissed your cheek, the action surprisingly soft compared to how rough the sex was. You felt like you could’ve melted onto the floor. 
“Cum with me, my love.” 
Mattheo wrapped his arms around you as that familiar heat spread burned in your core. He held you as the orgasm rocked through your body, sharing in the euphoric high while the two of you finished together. His grip around you only tightened, hugging you from behind while he slowly pulled out. You were barely keeping upright as it was, your legs threatening to give out under you. 
Without a word, your boyfriend scooped you into his arms and brought you back to bed. He cradled you against him, whispering praises and encouragement while stroking your hair. 
“You did so well, baby. I’m so proud of you for remembering all those runes. You’re gonna ace your exam tomorrow.” 
“You really think so, Matty?” You snuggled against him, burying your head in the crook of his neck. Mattheo stroked your back and placed a kiss on your temple. 
“I know so, darling. You have no idea how proud I am for having such a smart girlfriend. I love bragging about you to our friends.” 
You flushed. “Well, I couldn’t have done it all on my own. I had some help from my smart, sweet, and sexy study partner.
Mattheo grinned and kissed you gently. “Glad to be of service, my love.” 
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taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468
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agirlsguidetolove · 8 months
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I NEED MATHEO OR THEODORE X FEM READER AND SHE JUST LOVES HIS HANDS AND ARM VIENS AND SHE WALKS INTO HIS DORM AND IS GOBSMAKED TO SEE HIS ABS
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pairings: theodore nott x reader
word count: 0.9k
summary: ^^
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You feel safe. Your head rests in Theo’s lap, staring up at his handsome face as he reads, a hand massaging your scalp unconsciously.
Your gaze wanders down his arms, pursing your lips when you notice the veins that flow down his arms into his hands, watching as his huge hands delicately flip a page.
It’s hard to suppress a giggle, and you don’t, thinking about your man, mister mean Theodore Nott being gentle with a book, but nearly as gentle as he is with you.
It’s seductive, his loveliness, his kindness, his softness, but so is the way he looks down at you, eyes curious as he silently asks what your giggling about. You shrug up at him, but his hand leaves your hair and you from, sitting up from your spot on his bed, and turning to look at him over your shoulder.
“What’s up, babe?” you ask, watching as he crinkles the corner of his book page to mark where he left off. You cringe. Maybe he’s not the gentlest.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he starts, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips, you pull away, he chases after your lips, muttering, “Quidditch.”
You roll your eyes, pulling away from his second kiss. You had already forgotten about his quidditch practice even though he was already in his practice jersey.
You groan, throwing yourself into his pillows. “Why, Lord, why must you do this to me?” you yell into his pillow. You can hear him chuckle.
“I’ll be back soon, hun,” he assures, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Two hours at most.”
“Two hours,” you groan again, letting your head fall into his chest. You can feel his abs underneath his thin shirt. Your mouth waters.
He pats your hair, smoothing it down before slowly backing away, off his bed. “I know,” he groans. He stands up, eyes never leaving you as he backs to his door. “I’ll be as fast as I can. Okay, sweetheart?”
“You better be.” You hum, watching him slip out the door.
The next hour is the most boring hour of your life. You mindlessly looked through Theo’s book that he left on his bed, reading his beautiful annotation, but he’s a quiet guy, his annotation are drawn down to simple cursive words with vocab you can hardly understand.
Boredom brings you back to your dorm, lying in bed, listening to Pansy draw onto her hopeless crush on Luna Lovegood. It’s entertaining, much more entertaining then sitting around and doing nothing. It’s when she leaves it get boring again, and you find your way back to Theo’s dorm.
Without a second though, you shove the door open, welcoming yourself inside.
You flush when your eyes land on Theo, his back to you, bent slightly as he stared down at his bed, completely bare from the waist up.
“Shit,” you say under your breath, hopelessly staring at your boyfriends back, unable to move.
He’s toned, the muscles in his back stare at you and you can see triceps flex at you as he holds his jersey. His veins are more prominent in his arms as he runs a hand through his sweaty hair. He’s glistening like a greek god.
“You’re shirtless,” you breathe, still standing in the doorway of his dorm. The words come out as an exclaim, and you’re embarrassed and incredibly flustered.
He turns around and your greeted with Theodore’s abs. Your mouth gapes, and you can feel your own drool forming in your mouth. You feel hot all over.
Theo smiles at the sight of you, his green quidditch jersey still in his hand, the silky material practically melts in his big hands and all of a sudden it’s hard to look away, but you manage, meeting his eyes.
“Hey, honey,” he smiles, walking up to you and grabbing you by your forearms to pull you inside his dorm and close the door. He stays close, his body heat radiating off him as you try to look him in the eyes and settle your uneven breaths.
“I didn’t know where you went,” he chuckles, looking down at you with a loving expression in his eyes. “I was beginning to get worried.”
“Worried?” you choke out, still frazzled. “Why would you be worried?”
Theo hums, pulling you as he walks backwards to his bed. He sits, pulling you between his legs so he can look up at you, his hands resting on you hips. He leans forward and kisses your belly. You can see the muscles of his back. Fuck, he was hot.
“Didn’t know where my girl was,” he shrugged, resting his chin on your belly and gazing up at you. He smiles, leaning back to fully look at you.
“I’m here,” you mutter, anxiously nibbling on your lip.
It’s so, so hard to breath. Your hands drift to his abs, feeling them tense beneath your touch. They drift downwards, until you can see the label of his boxers where they peak out under his pants. You take your hands away, Theo groans.
“And I’m so glad,” he pants. “But why don’t you come a little close?”
You yelp when he pulls you onto the bed, pushing you underneath him so he was towering over you. Under him, you can see the sharp curve of his jawline and his sweaty muscles just before he plops down on you, bearing his head in your chest and leaving little kisses. He sighs into your skin. “That’s better.”
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again, not proofread i’m lazy and imperfect but here you go! hope you like it @annaisabookworm! 🧸🫶🫀
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sureallavnder · 4 months
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18+ mdni
Theodore - Theodore Nott
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mine part 2 - SMUT ALL THE SMUT
song partially inspired - daddy issued by the nieghbourhood
warnings - oral (f recieving), hand on neck, theo holding your wrists, dom!theo, a little aftercare, slaps on ass/thigh
You were his baby girl and he wouldn't let you forget it, so frail. He loved the control he had over you.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Dragging you into his dorm room with a force only Theo could possess. He locked the door behind you while spinning you round to hold you against his hips.
Trailing his hands with prominent viens between your perky breasts and down your stomach he gripped at your body randomly as a little reminder.
You were aching for his touch, honestly thinking you've never been this desperate in your life. He knew this and made it very clear he wasn't going to be quick.
Theo loved teasing, he especially loved when you used his full name. 'Theodore' was what he always wanted to be called while he was fucking your brains out or 'treating you' as he called it.
''Now i think its very imortant that i remind you who the fuck you belong to, isn't that right little girl'' he smirked ferociously.
Theo knew exacatly what turned you on, he knew you better than anyone else. Inside and out (literally).
The love of your life suddenly threw you onto his dorm bed. You gripped at the sheets with anticipation, not knowing what he was going to do next.
But you should've guessed...
Theo rushly pulled you to the edge of the bed, putting your legs over his muscular shoulders. Ripping your panties apart with all the determination in the world. He ploughed his face into your dripping pussy, licking and sucking messily. The one way Theo loved to make you cum was eating you out, your juices covering his tongue. Maybe he'd add some fingering if he was feeling generous (which wasn't very often).
''Theo... please'' you begged him to make you cum.
Stopping, with a harsh slap to your upper thigh. ''Excuse you. What do you call me?'' He wasn't going to keep going until you understood he wasn't playing this time.
''Theodore'' you whimpered.
Putting his face back on your cunt ''Better'' he mastered.
Theo let go of your pussy which was in desprate need of his touch. Turning you over and pulling you onto your knees, face down, he pulled your hands behind your back as he knows you move too much.
With his other hand he undid his belt and slowly pulled it out of the loops on his black jeans. Placing it beside you where you could see it 'just in case'.
''Theodore stop teasing'' you had never been this in need of him and his teasing wasn't helping.
''Not a chance baby'' he laughed at your desperation.
Moving onto his jeans which fit perfectly round his body, he embarrassingly struggled to undo the button and zip with just one hand. But he wasn't going to let you know that.
Eventually he manged, pulling his jeans down to his knees. He grabbed his thick shaft and teased your opening with just the tip.
''THEO'' you screamed at him.
A fast and hard slap reaches your ass. ''Do i have to remind you every fucking time?''
''No sorry... Theodore i need you.'' you didn't know how to get him to fuck you faster.
He leant forward and snuck a hand round your neck nibbling your ear lobe.
''Beg me'' he whispered in your ear, slightly moaning.
You started begging in every way you knew how, moaning and squirming (which he put a stop to quickly). He let you beg for a couple minutes before slowly pushing deep inside.
He started pounding slow and steading but speeding up quickly.
His pounding lasting, still grabbing your neck.
With a couple slaps and grabs to your ass with his free hand, it didn't take you long to reach your climax...
Theo could tell you were close and, wanting to cum with you, he decided he would let you cum today.
''Cum with me'' Theo was demading more than anything.
With some moans and a bit more fucking, you came together, moans intertwined. Theo moaning, and spilling out some 'fucks' and 'shits', directly in your ear as he hadn't left your side. Hand still on your neck.
He released his hand from your neck, pushing himself up, and slowly pulled out as you were super sensitive. You collapsed on the bed and Theo snuggled up to your side hand around your chest cupping your face stroking gently.
''You did so good baby'' he smiles as he says this.
You cuddled like this for the rest of the evening before fianlly getting up to change into pyjamas. You stayed in Theo's dorm that night cuddling while he said sweet nothing to you as you fell asleep.
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yandere-daydreams · 6 months
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Title: Gorefest.
Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader (Jujutsu Kaisen).
Word Count: 1.3k.
TW: Gore, Blood, Major Character Death (Reader Is Fine), Implied Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Touching, Prolonged Stalking, and Delusional Behavior.
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You found his latest gift on your doorstep.
It was a heart, this time – deflated but otherwise fully intact, blue viens still visible against pink flesh. A small puddle of blood and other gelatinous viscera surrounded it, but you ignored that in favor of wrapping the disembodied organ in your cardigan and unlocking the door to your apartment, too exhausted to fumble with your keys and too worn down to pretend you still thought you could get away from him on your own. His present was dropped into the ever-bubbling vat of crimson slurry you used to boil down his gifts until they’d been reduced to a less incriminating state, your shoes kicked off and left by the door. You didn’t bother turning on any lights. You were home, but you didn’t want to let yourself acknowledge that until he was gone.
You found Gojo in his usual spot; on the floor of your bedroom, his hands still stained red and one of your threadbare sleepshirts crumpled at his side, the dark material stained with something white and awful. That made two articles of clothing ruined, tonight. A few months ago, when the most he ever brought you was a half-beaten bouquet of roses and a list of questions for the strange man whose favorite place in the world seemed to be your living room, you would’ve been tempted to demand that he pay for the damages. You’d learned better than to imply you wanted anything from him, since then.
He was lying on his side, toying with something large and vaguely circular, his grin that of a cat dropping a slaughtered mouse at its owner’s feet. He was surrounded by more of his ‘presents’ – the disembodied organs of whatever poor criminal or curse user he’d taken it upon himself to dissect. You were glad you’d kept the lights off. You could see the outline of small intestine strung along the walls, assorted gore left in carefully considered piles wherever Gojo deemed it necessary. It’d take hours to clean up, after he left. Demanding that he help would only give him the impression that you wanted to spend time with him, and you weren’t going to make that mistake twice.
You moved to speak, but as always, he just had to be the center of attention. It was like he couldn’t imagine a world where you might’ve done anything but focus on him. “Welcome home,” he half-sung, pushing himself up and pulling his oblong, mishappen keepsake into his lap. “Do you want to start with dinner, or should I run you a hot bath? Or, if you want, you could always have a little of me—”
“Shut the fuck up.” And then, pointing in the general direction of your front door, “Get out.”
“So cold, babe. And after I went through all that trouble to set this up.” The coppery stench was starting to get to you. You could only pray the neighbors wouldn’t notice, or that you’d be able to think of a feasible enough excuse by the time they did. “I got hurt for you, too.” He held up a hand, gesturing towards the faintest, shallowest cut on his cheek. “Aren’t you going to dote on me? You know, like you used to – after you found me in that alley and bandaged my wounds. What was the first thing you said to me? That I was too pretty to bleed to death alone?”
You didn’t encourage him with a response, only crossing your arms over your chest and deepening your scowl. “Get out,” you repeated. “I don’t want you here.”
His grin only broadened. “If you keep saying things like that, I might start to think you’re trying to get me to leave.” Exasperation bled into your agitated expression, and Gojo let out a bark of a laugh. “Look, I know you like to play shy, but I’d really like it if we could use tonight for us. We could watch a movie, or—”
You let out a frustrated groan, dragging your hands over your face. “You know what? Fine. If you want to be here so badly, then stay.” You shut your eyes, standing a little taller. “I’m getting out of here.”
“Running off to spend the night with another man? Ah, what a cold-hearted temptress I’ve fallen for.”
“Oh, I’m going to do more than just spend the night with him.” You really should’ve shut your mouth. You should’ve bitten your tongue, swallowed your pride, refused to tell him anything save for the fact that you weren’t going to stay here any longer. But, the blood in the air was getting to you and you could still feel the cold flesh of the heart against your palm and you needed to get away, and you needed Gojo to know you were never coming back. “I met someone – a sorcerer. He knows you’ve been stalking me, and he offered to help.” You flashed him a grin, almost as awful as his own. “His name is Nanami, and he’s strong enough to keep me safe from people like you.”
You waited for him to laugh, to say he didn’t believe you, or better yet, to get angry, to feel a fraction of the dread and the rage he’d forced onto you. When he didn’t say anything, didn’t scream or yell or gloat, you opened your eyes. He was still staring, but his smile was softer, his eyes half-lidded in a way that could only mean something bad. “Oh, baby,” he started, his voice dripping with faux sympathy. “Whose heart do you think I went through so much trouble to bring you?”
A pebble threatening to slip off of its cliffside; two ends of a torn wire, a hair’s width away from connecting. Whatever he was trying to tell you, you just couldn’t seem to process it. “What?”
“Right. I’m sorry, sweetheart – that’s on me,” Gojo chuckled. “You were always more of a visual learner.”
The object in his lap was taken up and rolled towards you, coming to a teetering stop at your feet, where the residual light from the hall could illuminate it properly. In a daze, you dropped your gaze to it, allowed yourself to recognize blonde hair, razor-sharp cheekbones, and glassy brown eyes staring lifelessly back at you. There was a dark bruise on his jawline, paled by blood loss, and the mangled stump that used to be his neck was encircled by ragged flesh, as if it’d been torn from his shoulders. Despite everything, his mouth was closed, lips still pressed into a thin frown. As if he didn’t have time to so much as scream before Gojo got to him.
You must’ve passed out. One second, you were staring down at the disembodied head of your savior, and the next, you were on the floor, lying limp and breathless as Nanami’s blood formed a puddle underneath you. Gojo was already at your side, hauling you up and against his chest. You felt his arms around you, then plush of your mattress against your back. You were aware, distantly, that he was straddling you, that his mouth was pressing into the dip of your shoulder, then the curve of your throat. “It’s alright,” he muttered, his voice partially muttered by his closeness. “Why don’t you come stay with me for a while, after this? I’ve got a room ready for you back at my place and everything.”
He didn’t wait for an answer. Straightening his back, he let his lips crash into yours – his kiss lingering and deep and filthy. By the time he pulled away, he’d drunk the air from your lungs and frozen the blood in your veins, leaving you as empty and as lifeless as one of his gifts.
You thought, idly, of the heart being reduced to viscera in your kitchen, and wondered if you should’ve held onto it for just a few minutes longer.
“I’ll be able to spoil you properly, once I’ve got you where you’re supposed to be.”
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faintedlcve · 8 months
Note
LUCY BESTIE I GOT A FIC IDEA THE READER ABSOLUTELY JAW DROPPED SHOCKED LIKE REALLY REALLY SHOCKED WHEN SHE SEES MATTHEO TAKE HIS SHIRT OFF AND SHES HIS ABS, ARM VIENS, HANDS- AND SHE FOLDS LIKE A TACO-
Red Wine
Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader
Warnings: cursing, kissing lmk if there are anymore
Summary: where your best friend, Pansy, "accidentally" spills wine on Mattheo at a Slytherin Party and volunteers you to help him clean up.
Hope this is to your liking 💕
Reader is Slytherin x the divider is by @firefly-graphics xx check them out for more!! This is their post with the dividers x
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You entered the Great Hall and walked up to the Slytherin table. The table was filled with chatters about the Slytherin Party happening this very evening. Your head was kinda hurting so you decided not to go. Until...
"Y/n darling! You can't turn down an invitation to a party! Especially not a Slytherin one!" Pansy said appalled at your decision as you sat in your dorm.
"Pansy my head is throbbing." You replied trying to convince her.
"No way. You are going to that party. Mattheo will be there! And I know how much you like him." Pansy said far too loud.
"Louder Pansy. I don't think they heard you over at the boys dorms." You said irritated at the fact that she spilled your secret.
"Sorry." She muttered slightly taken aback. "Please come! I promise I'll make it worth you while."
"Ok fine. Wait what do you mean?" You asked.
"You'll see." She smirked to herself.
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You got into a green body fitting dress, exaggerating your curves. You had to admit you looked stunning. You paired it with black heels that Pansy let you borrow and silver snake earrings as well as a necklace. You had your hair in a bun with a few strands out at the front which you curled.
"Wow! Darling you look amazing!" Pansy said as she saw you all ready.
"Thanks!" You replied smiling at her.
As you and Pansy walked down the stairs, your friends stared at you in shock. One of them being Mattheo.
Pansy was daring so her response didn't shock you.
"I know we're hot but you might want to close your mouth before your jaw falls off." She said making you chuckle and lightly smack her arm.
"Pansy!" You exclaimed as you giggled.
"You look nice." Mattheo complemented you.
"just nice?" You joked.
"I mean, very nice. Like gorgeous i-" Mattheo said flustered.
"I'm joking. You don't look too bad yourself. Turns out you clean up way better than I expected.". You cut him off before he had a crisis. He softly smiled at you as you noticed he was... blushing?
You and your friends sat in the back corner of the room as you usually did. None of you were heavily into the dancing and the lights. You were just there for the alcohol.
You and Pansy went to grab drinks. Pansy got red wine which you found weird since she never was fond of it.
"I didn't know you liked red wine." You said.
"Does the job." She replied.
"Wh-" you began.
"Careful, your drinks gonna fall!" Pansy exclaimed as she saw you tilting your glass unconciously.
"Oh shit! Thanks." You replied.
You walked back to the table where your friends were sat. You saw Pansy pull a face as she gulped down the wine. You sat down next to Mattheo. As she went to take the seat next to you, she tripped due to the table leg and spilled her red wine all over Mattheo's white suit.
"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" Pansy exclaimed.
Mattheo took a deep breath before responding.
"It's fine." He muttered. "Unfortunately all my white shirts have just been washed so I don't have any spare."
You stared at Pansy in disbelief refusing to believe it was an accident. You saw right through her little facade. Pansy gave you a look to say something, but in that moment you had no idea what to say.
"Y/n has some spare oversized shirts she could lend you?" Pansy suggested. "Don't you y/n?" She nudged.
"Uh... yeah yeah! I have some spare oversized shirts, if you can just follow me to my dorm." You said realising Pansy's endeavour.
"No it's fine I don't want to bother you." Mattheo replied.
"Don't worry about it!" You said. Mattheo gave in and followed you to your dorm.
You took a towel and wiped off the red wine before reaching in to your cupboard and grabbing the shirt.
As you turned around you saw Mattheo unbuttoning his shirt and your jaw dropped. You almost dropped the shirt in your hands on the floor.
His abs, his arms and his hands were perfect. He was perfect.
"I know I'm hot but you might want to close your mouth before your jaw falls off." Mattheo repeated Pansy's exact words, smirking as he did so.
"Sorry I- I should probably turn around." You said flustered.
"No, I don't mind. Unless you do, that is?" Mattheo questioned.
"Looking at those abs? Fuck no, I don't." You said half joking as you turned around still blushing. He chuckled.
When Mattheo was fully dressed you suggested that you both go down back to the party before anyone got suspicious.
"Will they be wrong?" He asked.
"What do you-" you started. Before you could finish your sentence his lips were on yours. The moment was surreal and you wished it would last forever.
Fucking Pansy and her red wine.
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poeticallyspiteful · 9 months
Note
Hi there.
Maybe a newt x f reader where reader its a healer ( doctor) . reader was a friend of theseus and they were working on a case from the Ministry of magic. Thank you so much ❤️
kiss it better
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newt scamander x reader
fluff (making out)
cw: unedited, blood, a lil bit of ~suggestiveness~/(okay a lot a bit of suggestiveness i write like a romance novelist sometimes lol sorry not sorry), making out, newt is ripped and hot as hell
summary: newt gets injured and theseus knows the perfect person to kiss it better.
notes: thank you so much for the request love!!! i wasn’t sure exactly what you were looking for with this one so i just used my imagination so i do hope you like it. feel free to request something more if you don’t though :))
16+ please!!
“theseus, this is ridiculous, let go of me.”
it was a small cut, just a little one. a small mishap with alone of his creatures, that was all. such a tiny little ailment.
“it is bleeding profusely and goes all the way across your stomach, newt!” theseus exclaimed, pulling his brothers coat sleeve like a child dragging their parents through a candy store. “she’s very nice, you know that.”
oh, newt knew you were nice— that was the problem. you were so nice, so pretty, so incredibly everything that newt could hardly bare it. years and years of friendship with you and he could hardly even contain his joy at the sound of your laugh, at the mere sight of you. it made it hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to exist when all he could focus on was you.
“you’re working a case, theseus,” newt sighed, allowing his brother to pull him up the stairs to your apartment. “she’s probably reviewing files or something, it would be rude to interrupt her work.”
but the scamander brothers were already outside your door, and theseus was already knocking. before newt could brace himself for the wave of love sickness that would inevitably hit him the second he saw you, the door swung open and there you were; nice, pretty, perfect.
“hi newt, theseus,” you greeted, chest heaving (you may have ran across the apartment the second you’d heard their voices coming down the hall) “what can i— oh merlin’s beard.”
newt looked down, unsurprised to see the blood had seeped through his white shirt. he gave you a lopsided smile and you rolled your eyes, a pitiful attempt to avoid eye contact with the boyish man before you.
“come inside.”
theseus all but shoved newt inside, already straightening out his suit and brushing the left over floo powder off of his shirt. he looked up to you and his brother, unphased by the confused look on your faces.
“well, i best be off.”
you gawked at him. “your— your not going to stay?” you asked. he shook his head. “theseus! your brother is injured and you’re leaving?”
“we have a case!”
“it’s really okay,” newt said, bashfully, suddenly reminding you of the reason they were there.
scoffing, you turned back to newt, waving your friend off. “workaholic,” you murdered as you began searching for your emergency bandage kit.
and with that, theseus shut the door— but not before sending his brother a mischievous wink. newt felt a shiver down his spine.
sneaky bastard.
you finally found the small red box, pulling it open and rifling through it for a disinfectant and some gaws, as well as a mini suture kit.
glancing up at newt through your eyelashes, you hummed expectantly. “shirt off,” you ordered, some foreign sort of confidence surging through you.
newt swore all the brain cells left his mind. “pardon?” he chocked, suddenly not too concerned with his injuries.
“i can’t exactly fix you through the shirt. now c’mon, we don’t have all day,” you explained.
quickly, newt obeyed, shedding his baggy coat and undoing the bloodied buttons. very quickly, he felt exposed, but the bashful look on your face made him feel more smug than anything.
you had never seen newt shirtless before now, but my lord, did you wish the sight to be engraved in your mind till the day you died. you could see the viens that traveled up his tanned arms, and as shocked to see his biceps had been rather toned under that jacket all this time. his freckles spanned all down his chest and arms as well, dancing around the thin scars across him.
for a man so cute and clever, he was sure an enthralling sight to see.
clearing your throat, you finally looked down at the wound intently, relieved to see it didn’t look like too hard of a fix. with some shallow sutures and cleaning, he’d be better in no time.
“not too bad,” you murmured without thinking, entire body going cold at the implication. shit. the clever smile on newts face grew. “i— i meant the cut isn’t too bad, doesn’t look, y’know, infected.”
“good,” newt agreed, leaning back on his arms. his abdomen tensed at the movement and he hissed at the pain. “ouch.”
before you could look at him too closely, or think too much apparently, you knealt down infront of him. however, as he opened his legs to allow you space between them, you realized the predicament you’d put yourself in.
holy fucking shit.
you looked up hesitantly, feeling your heart race at the way newt looked down at you; nervous and kind, like he was just as surprised by your position as you were.
“this might sting a little,” you announced, trying to redirect his (and yours) attention back to the real reason you were on your knees.
carefully, you wiped the cotton pad across the cut, cleaning up the blood around the wound. newt hissed again, hands gripping the blanket laid across your couch. you had to will yourself to keep your eyes on the wound.
“almost done,” you reassured, finally looking up to see newts eyes screwed shut in pain. quickly, you dabbed at the far end of the wound, bringing your hands down quickly. “all done.”
newt sighed in relief, swallowing roughly. he glanced down to his stomach, feeling his head buzz as you looked back up at him. “whatcha thinking, doc?” he teased.
you could’ve died at the irony. you could not tell him what you were thinking right now.
“well, it’ll only need a few stitches at the edges there on the left, but it should be fine otherwise. just some bandages and you’ll be good,” you answered.
“no magic?” he asked.
“sadly, my regulations to do these sorts of healing charms only spans as far as britain,” you replied. “i’m working on getting the papers here in the states, but for now, just my handy work.”
newt smiled, another grin which made you weak in the knees. “your handy work is quite good.”
you ignored the heat in your face from the praise as you began you sutures. you felt newt shiver under your hands as they fluttered across his stomach, tracing the stitches and looking for any imperfections. finally satisfied with the stitching, you taped some bandages across them, and stood up once you were done. three easy steps, and nothing went wrong—
as you took a step back, you stumbled over the edge of your rug, fumbling backwards as you tried to regain your balance. before you realized what had happened, you felt newts hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you forward.
and forward was onto his lap.
you had spoken too soon.
you caught yourself with a tight grip on his bare shoulders, the skin soft and hot under your hands. your face was barely an inch from his, and your eyes met his in a brief moment of panic.
“s-sorry, i just didn’t want you to hit your head on the coffee table,” newt whispered, eyes darting form your eyes to your lips and back again nervously. he seemed very regretful of his action at first, but he didn’t budge to move you off of him, hands gripping the flesh around your hips.
“t-thank you,” you stammered, gathering all your strength not to squirm in his arms, your heart beating faster than your blood could pump.
newts eyes found yours again, thumbs making small circles in your hip bone. “have i ever told you that you’re very pretty?” the low rasp of his voice could’ve made you faint on any ordinary day, but given that you were practically straddling him, nothing could’ve made you more lightheaded. “especially up so close.”
“newt,” you whispered.
“what, love?”
“please kiss me.”
newt closed the gap without a second thought, kissing you gently. his lips were soft, but needy, pulling away and coming back for more over and over and over again. his hands traveled from your hips all the way up to your head, resting on your jaw. you moved your hands up his neck, playing with the curls on the nape.
you whined as he pulled away entirely, pulling him impossibly closer to yourself. “why’d you stop?”
“isn’t there a rule about strenuous activities post surgery?” he teased, laughing as he pressed another kiss to your lips briefly; he had waited too long to do this and he didn’t wanna stop now. “making out seems pretty strenuous to me.”
“i’ll kiss it better.”
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sthavoc · 2 months
Text
౨ৎ🎞️ 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 | ENZO VOGRINCIC
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𖥔 ࣪˖ pairing: enzo x actress!reader
𖥔 ࣪˖ summary: you and Enzo are in the same event, meeting each other for the first time, and of course the paparazzi wanted a few shots with you both. Which later led to conversations between the two of you.
𖥔 ࣪˖ warnings: none
𖥔 ࣪˖ note: he looks rlly good in that pic doesn’t he.. but apart from that I hope u guys enjoy this. this is in spanglish bc I just think the dialogue in spanish fits the guys better. also I’m not rlly good with writing imagines. this would be like my first time I publish one so I’m sorry if it’s ass lol. btw i’m sorry if I get anything wrong i’m not uruguayan or argentinian, but I do speak spanish.
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Enzo couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. It’s not that he had staring problems it’s just that you looked amazing and he just couldn’t believe he was in the same place as you. It was an important event and you both were lucky to find yourselves in the same place.
“Ya dale ve a presentarte boludo.” Juani stood next to Enzo. He had partially slapped Enzo on the back of his head making him snap from his gaze. “¿O te le vas a quedar viendo como loco todo el evento?”
“Callate” Enzo laughs as he glances your way. The cameras flashed on you as you posed and smiled for the pictures. You looked gorgeous.
“No en serio. O te presentas vos o lo hacemos nosotros.” Fran’s voice made both of the boys heads turn his way.
“No me va a pelar.”
“Yo creo que ya lo hizo. Mira.” Juani chuckles racing his brows as he darted at Enzo.
Juani had seen you staring their way with a feeble smile painted on your tinted lips. They all payed attention to how you looked forward to the cameras, giving them all a smile with a wave as you walked the opposite direction.
“No, no. Que viene acá.” Enzo panics. “Que hago.”
“Presentate.” Matias gives him a dull push.
By the time you had reached them, the guys stepped away and began to make their own conversation, leaving Enzo and you alone. Enzo turned around to the guys. He just hoped he wouldn’t mess anything up. After all, it was his first time meeting you.
“Hola mucho gusto, Y/N L/N. Te vi desde lejos y quise venir a saludar y a decirte que vi la Sociedad de la Nieve, y debo decir que me encantó.” You gush with a small smile as you hold your eyes on the man. You extended out your hand for him to shake. Which he did, but he also gave you a small kiss on the cheek. You hoped your lipstick didn’t leave a kiss print.
“Enzo Vogrincic. Muchas gracias. Es un gusto conocer a gran estrella como vos. yo soy un gran fan tuyo y.. te ves muy hermosa.” He was trying so hard not to seem like an idiot right now.
“Ay que lindo. Gracias.” Your lips carved a smile at his praise. You yourself made an effort not to blush. “Tú también te ves guapo.”
“Guys! Look this way!” A paparazzi called for your attention.
“¿Te gustaría tomarte algunas fotos conmigo?” You request motioning towards the cameras.
“Sí , sí. Claro.” He gestures for you to follow first. He somewhat helps you fix your dress as you walk away. As you both find your pose his hand lands on your lower bare back. And of course as the gentleman he is he instantly withdrew his hand. “Perdona.”
you let out a small chuckle telling him it was okay. He partially thought twice but he placed it back in its place when he felt your own hand on his back. Enzo just wanted you to feel comfortable around him. As he didn’t want to weird you out on your first meeting.
“You guys look amazing together!” A paparazzi exclaimed trying to get as many pictures concurrently.
“Hm, creo que les encantamos a los paparazzi” Enzo jokes making you look up at him with a smile. There will absolutely be pictures of that pose.
“Al parecer sí.”
“Vamos, si queres te puedo presentar a los chicos.” Enzo’s hand rested inside the pocket of his dressing pants in a nervous manner.
You of course agreed with a hum, stepping away from the center and walking towards where the rest of the cast was. Enzo tried on guiding you while he motioned the guys with his hands to walk over.
“Chicos, Y/N. Y/N estos son Matias, Juani, Fran, y Agustín.”
“Mucho gusto.” You greet each of the boys. “Buen trabajo que hicieron en la película.”
“Muchas gracias.” They all reply in unison.
“Sos una actriz increíble me veo todas tus películas.” Juani comments making you give him a warm smile, and bringing your hand to your heart.
“Ayy re lindo.”
“Bueno pero y si entramos ya? Cómo que tanto flash me está mareando.” Matias’ eyes shoot a double blink. He also brought his hand to his right temple giving it a small massage.
“Concuerdo.” Enzo nods.
Everyone walked inside the event. First thing that met the group were the LED lights that colored the room and the huge amount of tables that had glasses and champagne on them. Not to forget the decorations. Every single one of you turned your heads to admire the whole room. Enzo who didn’t waist no time hurried himself to pull up a chair for you. That made you release a smile.
“Gracias.”
He himself sat next to you as the boys filled around some of the seats around the table. Juani grabbed the bottle of champagne making a foolish face towards Fran, creating a bit of laughter between the two. Matias and Agustin didn’t last in joining their conversation, and also in taking silly pictures of each other.
“Entonces, Enzo. Cuéntame de ti.” You tried to make a conversation to reduce the quietness between the two.
“Uff.” He raised his brows letting out a chuckle. “Que no se puede saber ya.” He comments making the two of you laugh, you yourself racing a brow tilting your head to the side for a split second. “Pero pues tengo 30 años. Me fascina el teatro. Me encanta tomar fotos, la música”
“Wow. Tenemos cositas en común eh.” He looks at you with a warm smile and a glint in his eyes from the small nudge you gave him. “me encanta la fotografía, también me gusta el teatro y amo la música. Tengo un record player y me encantaría poder ir a una disquera y comprar más discos. Y debo de mencionar que nunca me vas a cachar sin mis audífonos en mis días libres.” A small chuckle escapes from Enzo’s lips at your remark.
“Ese soy yo con la fotografía. Voy a todos lados con mi cámara.” He motions towards his camera, which you hadn’t even noticed. “Si queres podemos ir a una disquera que vi por ahí cuando me estaba paseando.”
“¿Me estás invitando a salir?” A playful smile crept upon your covered lips as you watched how a nervous look arose on his face.
“Bueno.. como amigos obviamente.” He quickly adds.
“Te estoy jodiendo. Claro que podemos ir.” He laughs in relief as he sets his arm on the table staring at the ground. “Sirve de que tomas algunas fotos” You add motioning towards his camera.
“¿Me darías tu número entonces?”
You watched how Enzo took out his phone from his pocket, unlocking it before setting it between the two of you. Your hand reaches for the phone, giving him a small glance with a slight smile. You start to look for the contacts app before you began on typing your number in his phone.
“toma. no me nombres nada malo por favor.” You joke as you watched him create your contact.
“para nada, linda. No quiero que me odies.”
Enzo was starting to come out of his shell, letting out a pet name was somehow a small way of him showing he was getting comfortable around you. He just hoped it didn’t mean too much for you to shut him out. On the contrary though.
You softly giggled and somewhat blushed at the pet name. “odiarte no creo.” His eyes turned their all divided attention to you as he finished his typing and locked his phone again before placing it back into his pocket.
“Pues espero que me podas responder el mensajito.” He murmured as he got closer to you for you to be able to hear him.
“Por supuesto que te contestaré.” You point towards him. “Me encantaría ir a esa disquera y si se puede me puedes tomar algunas fotitos.” He smiles as he receives the silly wink you gave him.
“Claro. Sí. Sería un gusto.” He rests his hand on his chest. “Si queres te enseño algunas que tengo en mi celular.” You nod liking the idea as he takes out his phone again looking for his gallery and the folder where he kept all of his pictures.
“Podes deslizar a la izquierda.” He gives you his phone which already had the first picture set.
“Oh wow.” You were amazed by the simple yet amazing quality pictures he has taken. Some were of cats, buildings, him in black and white. “Son hermosas Enzo. Si no la hubieras echo de actor la hubieras echo de fotógrafo.” You laughed along with him.
“Es algo simple. Es uno de mis hobbies.” He murmurs next to you as he also looked at the pictures.
“Pues eres muy talentoso, de verdad.” You place your hand on his shoulder, your eyes leaving the picture with a light smile as Enzo didn’t tear his eyes off you.
“Y/N! oh my God here you are!” you recognized the voice making you look behind you, and Enzo finally looking somewhere that wasn’t your face.
You found the person the voice belonged to. “Oh, Maddie. Hi.” You chuckled. “I’m sorry I got a little distracted.” You turn to look at Enzo and then the boys.
Maddie’s eyes scanned the whole table as her strawberry tinted lips were opened a jar with a smile. “Hi. Madelyn Cline.” She greeted as everyone waved at her. Her eyes went back to you as she gave you a smile with a knowing look. “It’s okay you can totally stay here. I don’t mind.”
You looked at Maddie then back at the boys and at Enzo. He was quick to speak. “Te podes ir si queres. No hay problema.” He shrugged and the guys filled in into his request.
“Bueno. Disculpen. Pero fue un gusto conocerlos a todos y ojalá podamos un día volvernos a ver.” Each one of the guys got up from their seat and kissed you goodbye as they agreed with you, including Enzo. “Enzo un gusto.” Your hand rested on his arm for support and his on your waist as you leaned in to kiss his cheek.
“Un gusto linda.” He decided to use the pet name again for a last time tonight.
You turned your back on their table leaving with Maddie as a small smile stayed on your lips. You did hope to see all of them again, especially Enzo. There was something about his vibe and talking to him that made you feel at peace. Like you enjoyed his company.
And you honestly couldn’t wait to get his message.
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tarjapearce · 8 months
Note
dancing to sexy latin pop or reggaeton music with miguel. he's got two left feet and slight rhythm but he's also very turned on by you 🤭
Another Pre-Soccer Family and how they keep flirting? Yes. 🤭
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Couldn't help but imagine this with these songs 🤭
Even though the little outing after soccer game you had invited Miguel to was success, your wallet surely suffered some damage.
The man ate. He was kinda quiet mostly of the time, but surely enjoyed the food you had treated him with. You were just taking mental notes of what he liked and what not. The spicier the better, definitely a Horchata team man, and of course, a carne asada man. The conversation was sparse, but it was nice. You were as nervous as he was, didn't actually think that he would accept.
He loved meat. And once you finished you drove him home. He ended up 'telling' you about this upcoming party at Peter's to celebrate MJ's birthday.
"If you wanna come, though."
"Are you... inviting me?" You gave him a smug smile and he just cleared his throat and shrugged.
"I'm just telling you."
You pursed your lips, smile fading.
"Oh... okay. I might go. "
"Might?"
"Hmm." You parked outside his home, "Not sure if I can make it that day. But let me see what I can do"
-----
Miguel gave Peter's house entrance subtle glances here and there. He was busy with the food, Peter had asked him for the details of your date which, he plainly just shrugged off as a normal outing.
"Did you invite her to the party?" Jess spoke
"I told her about it." He frowned at the disappointment in Peter's and Jess, even Gabriel's face.
"Telling is not the same as inviting! It's the etiquette rule to invite someone, when you want to see them again that is. No wonder she looked kinda bummed out."
"Yo tampoco vendría si me lo dijeran así." (I wouldn't come either if I'd get told like that)
His deep red eyes glared at his brother's comment.
"Si viene, mínimo baila con ella." (If she shows up, the least you can do is to dance with her.)
"Okay, okay. Leave the guy alone. He hasn't dated someone in ages. But yeah, you're a dumbass. C'mon." He offered a beer, Miguel took a long swig of it.
------
He didn't had your phone and certainly approaching Jess was out of the equation. She'd tease him to no end before anything. Party had started two hours ago, and still no signs of you.
He rubbed his face, deep in thought on how he had possibly screwed it up as he nursed his Horchata glass in the kitchen. He was preparing an extra plate of food when your voice echoed through the entrance.
"I'm so sorry for the delay! Got too carried away picking a gift" You hugged MJ.
"You hungry?" Jessica spoke as your voices approached. His grip on the spoon tightened.
"Ah, don't worry. Kinda ate in my way back. Maybe later."
Your eyes met his. His jaw tightened and you just gave him a little smile and a wave before disappearing back with Jessica.
Awkward.
----
You had been dancing the last few songs in a row with Jessica and MJ, he just watched you from afar. You had rejected a couple of men that had asked you to dance.
"He keeps staring" Jessica mumbled and you shrugged.
"Can't do everything myself. Besides, correct me if I'm wrong, but he doesn't seem too keen in making an advance either"
"You kidding? He's been staring holes at the door waiting for you to come." MJ whispered at your ear.
"He's just... shy I guess?"
The music was a bit upbeat, the lights were down, you refreshed yourself before going back again at the dance floor. You saw him across the room, bored out of his mind, and taking swigs of his beer that was warm at this point.
He nearly choked as you approached him.
"Let's go"
You offered your hand and he looked away.
"No puedo bailar" (Can't dance)
"No te preocupes. Yo tampoco pero te enseño" (Don't worry, Me neither but I'll teach you.)
He took a last swig of his beer and stood. He didn't know if it was the alcohol or it was the whole thing that was about to happen that made his ears warmer. The beat changed into something more slow and mellow. A bachata.
You giggled as you stood before him.
"Now what?"
"We are supposed to get closer"
He crushed your heeled foot with his boots
"Sorry... fuck." He rubbed his neck awkwardly.
"Relax, it's fine. It happens alot."
One of your hands went around the small of his waist as he took your hand. Delicate and small snuggled against his calloused and big one.
His heart skipped a beat when you guided his other hand on your waist.
"Right"
"Bachata is easy. It's just swaying your hips left and right. It's the easiest dance" You stepped closer, and moved with the beat. He could feel your curves moving. His feet followed. Clumsy, step dances were enough to make you laugh. He frowned.
"Perdón, perdón. Ya, no me voy a reír" (Sorry sorry, Ok. I won't laugh)
"Suelta esas caderas, mano" (Let those hips go, man)
Your hands went to his hips, and moved them.
"One, two" Your hips swayed to accentuate the little whip move at the end of the second step. He gulped.
"Eso, Miguel!"
You clapped softly, he just chuckled.
"Now, just do that to the left and right and that's it."
"Really?" He took your hand in his again and placed the other one on your lower back.
"Yeah." Your lips stretched in a bashful smile.
For once you were glad the lights were down as you danced. You still could see him. And of course still could feel his feet crushing yours. People stared your way, but neither of you cared, too focused in teaching eachother things as you laughed out of nervousness.
The song changed, into something more Sultry, yet danceable.
That was definitely one of Gabriel's songs.
"I don't know how to dance this one, does the previous dance moves apply to this one too?"
His technicism in speaking was plain endearing to you. You giggled at his pouty face.
"Not really, but if you feel comfortable with-"
"Enséñame, pues." (Teach me, then)
That shut you giggle off. He smirked.
"Estás seguro?" (You sure?)
He shrugged and crossed his arms on his chest.
"We're already making a fool of ourselves, so..."
"Me gusta tu entusiasmo, Dracula" (I like your eagerness)
"Qué te digo, me gusta aprender." (What can I tell you. I like learning.).
You slapped his chest playfully then took his hand and guided him to a wall, like many other people around. His hands were on your waist again, and this time yours rested on his neck. The lyrics of the second song only added a little sizzle to the mood.
Imagínate en mi cuarto
Comiéndote a besos
Your body swayed, it took a little for him to get your rhythm. And it was almost intoxicating for him, borderline overwhelming. The closeness of your bodies didn't help, the lyrics of the song only made his eyes to stop at you lips, Your fingers had ended up entwined, and certainly that little red dress you wore didn't help the upcoming override in his system. The song was over, but it didn't matter.
One of your hands caressed his nape and he shuddered, you bit your lip, he inched closer to your face. Nails raking softly the exposed part of his skin underneath his neck, his breath fanned over your lips. But one finger stopped him, said finger separated your lips from his.
"Nuh uh. No me invitaste, recuerdas? " (You didn't invite me, remember?)
With a smirk you separated your body from his. His eyes blinked, trying to process what was happening
"Thanks for the dance" You smiled oh so sweetly before disappearing into the kitchen, leaving him there, a flustered mess. Mind was in 404 error.
Dios mío...
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greatdenimbeast · 10 days
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Diamond castle au- Mephiles as Lydia! The muse of Music, Tragedy and Eloquence
He’s a god, born on Olympus, chosen to be Apollos first muse, due to his prolific musical talents and understanding of tragic stories. Mephiles graciously accepted his position as well as his twin flutes
To him, to be a muse is to be the example, the authority, to have the final say over what people can and can’t do with their art, down to the style and expression.
Mortals were simple creatures, with fickle emotions that easily led them astray. They needed guidance, direction, the ability to create was gifted onto them and they needed to use that gift properly. (More accurately how he deemed it being used properly)
He was content in his care for the diamond castle and the way he ran things… but then Apollo chose another muse. A demigod. A descendant of an underworld god, gifted with full godhood in order to carry out his duties.
Mephiles wasn’t… fond of this decision, working with a mortal isn’t something he had ever foreseen and he didn’t think that this mortal would be capable of taking on these responsibilities. But he chose not to argue with the authority of lord Apollo and welcome the godling into his ranks as a fellow muse. He could be taught the proper ways after-all and, even when he was a mortal, the blood of a god still ran through his viens, this was about a century before Apollo introduces them to another chosen muse.
This one a pure mortal, not even a lick of godly blood in him and yet he was chosen.
Mephiles was completely baffled and infuriated by this decision but held his tongue, something that was hard to do when this… former-mortal was the most ungrateful one he’d ever seen, having as much snark as he had audacity as he clearly did not wish for this decision either
Everything Mephiles told him to do, he did the exact opposite! And if that wasn’t enough! He slacked in his duties! The mortals engaging in his art just did whatever they wanted and interpreted his aspects however they wanted and he just let them! In fact he actively encouraged it! Going down to the mortal realm, in mortal disguise to interact with them. And then, for some ungodly reason, the second muse (who had previously been butting heads with this new muse as well) followed his example!!! It was infuriating, especially when the two started to creating music, and doing whatever the heck they wanted with it! Starting to insist that he could lighten up cuz he didn’t actually have the authority on what people created
The final straw was when the two of them created music that in turn created a little godling (literally, they made a song an poof! Baby!) and the god Apollo proposed that the child train to be a muse
Mephilis wouldn’t stand for this anymore, they didn’t deserve to hold their positions so if they didn’t do things his then he’d take care of all the arts himself! But he knew he couldn’t exactly do anything, his fellow muses, though tainted by their former mortality, were just as powerful as he was. So he ventured down to Tartarus for something give an edge, he found the dark power he was looking for, as well as the dragon, iblis.
So he conspired to take over while tensions rose with the other two muses, what he needed was the instruments to have full control but for people to believe his authority he had to let those two ruin their own image to make him look better by comparison and ruining their harmony to make them more susceptible to his powers
But then Silver found out, told the other muses about him wanting to take over and they hid the castle and their instruments. The two muses tried to confront him and stop him but he quickly put a stop to that, they won’t be doing anything without his say so anytime soon… but the little apprentice got away, seemingly disappearing into thin air. Meph had a hunch that he knew the whereabouts but there was no sign of
His powers still only extended over his domain, so he still needed those instruments… but no matter, he was in charge and he was immortal, he had millennia to wait and there were only so many places that child could hide
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bosbas · 10 days
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Chapter 7: something gave you the nerve to touch my hand
series masterlist previous part || next part
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pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 3.4k words
Warnings: period-typical gender roles, a small part of the dialogue is in Spanish, idiots in love-ish moments (maybe idiots in non-hate?)
Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?
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June 1, 1816 – A few whispers have been floating around about Lord Arthur Barlow’s whereabouts following his escapade with Miss Barrington at the Bridgerton ball, but this author must sadly say that she has no credible information on the subject. The Duke has likely paid his staff handsomely to avoid any news reaching the curious ears of the ton, much to our disappointment. While propriety suggests that his wedding plans to Miss Barrington should be in full swing, Lord Barlow is not particularly known for his propriety, and therefore we cannot assume anything.
Among other Montclair-related news, two of the Count’s children arrived in London yesterday: Lord Philippe Montclair IV and Lady Isabelle de la Torre, accompanied by their respective spouses and children. Is this unexpected gathering somehow linked to Lady Y/N's recent entanglement in scandal, or is it merely a coincidental family reunion?
You wrung your hands nervously in your carriage bound for Hyde Park, not quite able to sit still. Beside you sat Leonor, Philippe's wife, while your sisters, sitting opposite from you, observed your anxious demeanor with growing impatience. Isabelle, in particular, seemed annoyed by your restless gestures, her irritation palpable in the air.
“Y/N, for heaven's sake, it’s not like you’ve been compromised in any way!” said Isabelle, exasperated. “You’ll find someone else, and the Duke’s betrayal will be but a distant memory.”
It was easy for her to say; after all, her own search for a husband had been nothing short of a fairy tale. Unlike the rest of your siblings, Isabelle had had a love match from the beginning, and it only made it easier that Carlos, her now-husband, had strong ties to the royal family. Though her love story had been one for the ages, the fact that it had happened so easily was making her quite unsympathetic to your loss of a Duke you weren’t even properly interested in. 
“I might as well have been! Lady Whistledown is still mentioning my involvement in the scandal, and your presence isn’t helping.” You thanked the universe that your mother was on another carriage with Louis, Carlos, and Philippe, and hadn’t heard you being rude toward your sister.
"And why should we care about the musings of this Lady Whistledown?" retorted Isabelle with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“These English people treat that gossip column like gospel,” said Charlotte, crinkling her nose in disdain. “Though I dare say, Y/N, your predicament isn't as dire as you're painting it," she added, casting you a knowing glance.
"You two can afford to be cavalier about it, being safely married," you sighed, feeling defeated, and turned your gaze back out the window.
As your carriage rolled into the park, Leonor leaned in, placing her hand over yours. “No te preocupes, cariño,” she whispered reassuringly, so only you could hear (Don’t worry, sweetheart). “En todo caso, te vienes a España con tu hermano y conmigo” (In any case, you can come to Spain with your brother and me).
You smiled at her, resigned, but grateful for her offer. As you surveyed the bustling crowd outside, predominantly comprised of eligible men, the allure of Spain beckoned. It would certainly have better weather than London. And at least there was no Lady Whistledown in Salamanca. Though with the seemingly endless sources the woman had, you wouldn’t doubt her abilities to follow you there, too.
Stepping down from your carriage and walking toward the crowd of people in the park, you made eye contact with one of the gentlemen who had called on you yesterday. Though his poem had nearly put you to sleep, you smiled politely anyway. Perhaps he would be the first to talk to you today and ask for a turn about the park, and you would be able to finally relax in the knowledge that at least one person was still interested in you.
Though you hadn’t seen or heard from Lord Barlow since the Bridgerton ball, he still lingered in your mind. He ended up being just like any other man, you thought, annoyed. You hadn’t necessarily expected him to be the picture of attentiveness and love, especially not when you had only known each other a little over a month, but it was still disappointing to see how it had all turned out. 
"Lady Montclair," a voice interjected, drawing your attention to your right. Startled, you turned to see Colin Bridgerton, sporting an uncharacteristically earnest smile.
“Mr. Bridgerton?” you inquired. 
You had thought your dance two nights prior had been a one-time event, a small courtesy on his part, for Eloise, so you didn’t look a complete fool upon your re-entry to society. So why was he here now? Had he come here to resume tormenting you? You weren’t quite sure you had the energy for that today, already feeling the familiar flutter of nerves as you thought about how many men you would have to impress and the intense scrutiny you would face from the rest of the ton.
“Would you care for a promenade?” his voice, a gentle invitation, broke through your thoughts.
“A prom- What?” you said lowly, careful that no one would hear you. “You already danced with me once, and it was more than enough,” you assured him. 
Colin was fighting an internal battle. He was torn between still being absolutely enchanted by you after one dance, and the larger part of him that was annoyed that you apparently didn’t want to speak with him today. Yet, true to form, Colin’s more combative side won out.  
“Well, I don’t particularly see gentlemen lining up to speak with you today, so I rather think you might need some more help,” he shot back. 
You felt your face flush as you gasped in offense. “That is so patronizing. I’ve barely been here three seconds! I hardly think that amount of time is indicative of whether any suitors would like to speak with me today.”
It was true; Colin had rushed to greet you moments after you had stepped down from your carriage. But aside from the fact that he was embarrassed by his eagerness and trying to cover it up, he was not about to let up, not against you. 
“Do you think, for once in your life, you could engage with me without throwing a fit?” he asked you, anger seeping into his words. 
You were speechless, your eyes wide as you stared at him. Your instinct would have been to get mad at him, but unfortunately, he was right. You were struggling to let yourself be vulnerable with Colin, never mind how good of a time you had had dancing with him. But you were too stubborn to accept his offer to walk with him. You simply stared at him, your eyes swimming with uncertainty, and silently willed him to keep pushing you to accept his help. It was the only way you would allow yourself to do it, and you were relieved when he held out his arm for you to take.
“Come along,” he said, rolling his eyes. “For both our sakes, we should just walk to avoid a scene.”
“Very well, then,” you relented, slipping your hand into the crook of his elbow. You were momentarily distracted by the feeling of his arm beneath your touch. It lit a fire inside of you that you weren’t familiar with, and you suddenly found yourself out of breath. 
“My sister can chaperone,” he suggested, gently guiding you toward where his family was situated. 
You could only nod dumbly in response, the flutters in your lower abdomen only growing stronger when he placed his hand over yours. Vaguely registering Daphne and Simon waving at you, you smiled and greeted them, grateful to have something else to focus on that wasn't Mr. Bridgerton's very well-sculpted arms. 
As you began to stroll, the Bassets a few paces behind you, you felt that your voice was stable enough to begin a conversation. “So, Mr. Bridgerton, indulge my curiosity and tell me more about your travels. Have you ever been lost at sea?”
Colin smiled at you, unable to hold back his fondness for you once again, and his breath was stolen from his lips as he made eye contact with you. You looked back eagerly, staring straight into him, and he was momentarily speechless. But you blinked, indicating that you were still awaiting a response, and he realized he had forgotten himself once again in your presence, an alarmingly increasing trend. 
After clearing his throat, Colin answered, “A few times, yes. Most unfortunate was the time we became lost in the twilight hours when it was freezing out, but the stars proved an exceptionally useful tool in helping us find our way.”
“The stars?” you asked, curious. Could it be that you and Colin had yet another thing in common? It was hard to parse who he had been with you the past few days with the man you had a rivalry with practically from the moment you arrived in England. Who was the real Colin?
“Yes, indeed,” affirmed Colin, his voice revealing a hint of excitement. “They’re actually quite a useful tool. Regardless of our whereabouts, we look at the same constellations, albeit from differing vantage points. For instance, if you look up at the sky any of these nights, and you see three stars close together arranged in a line, that’s-”
“Orion’s belt,” you finished for him, your voice soft. Then, seeing his amused, and admittedly curious, smile, you explained, “My governess used to take me outside at night, even in the winter, so I could look at the stars. I know a fair few constellations, and I always like to know which ones are visible to me.”
Colin shook his head in wonder. The universe was a cruel thing, to make you so perfectly suited to him and make you hate him more than you hated, apparently, anyone or anything else. But it wasn’t like he liked you any better, he reasoned.
“I’d wager you’d be a wonderful navigator, then,” he said. “I’m certain you’d never get lost in treacherous waters.” He had to physically bite his tongue to keep from suggesting that you go with him on his next trip around the world. 
You hummed softly in response. It never quite felt like you had a grip on where you were going. Usually, you just felt like you were groping around in the dark, desperately trying to find the right way to go. 
The promenade stretched on longer than anticipated, with both of you engaging in pleasant conversation throughout, and more than a few stolen glances. It was a shock, really, when Daphne cleared her throat politely behind you and Colin. You suddenly realized that you and Colin had been walking together for longer than was typically appropriate. 
“It might be time for Lady Montclair to promenade with someone else,” she suggested gently, a sympathetic smile on her face as she looked at Colin's crestfallen face. Turning away from you, she leaned over and whispered something unintelligible to Simon as the pair walked away back toward the rest of the Bridgertons, allowing you and Colin a few moments of privacy.
“Thank you,” you smiled at him, finding yourself slightly disappointed that your time together was ending. “I’m not quite sure I would have needed your saving again, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”
Suddenly, you noticed a piece of lint on the lapel of Colin’s jacket. You reached over, almost instinctively, and picked it off. Your fingers barely grazed his chest, and his words caught in his throat as he saw your hand reach toward his chest in slow motion. 
The two of you stood still, staring at each other for what felt like an eternity, one of your hands still extended toward him. Realizing your actions necessitated an explanation, you hurriedly brought your hand back to your side again and averted your gaze, avoiding eye contact with Colin.
“Lint,” you explained awkwardly. “On your coat.”
Oh, how could you have done something so brash? And in such a public setting, too, you scolded yourself. 
“I-Th-Well, I-Thank you, Lady Montclair,” Colin stuttered out, his brain short-circuiting from your intimate gesture. But you were already walking away, fists clenched at your sides as he saw you walking back to your family. 
Once more, you were intercepted by what could only be described as a horde of men vying for your favor. But, just like two nights prior, all Colin could feel was a pleasant warmth spreading through him as he watched you walk away, your laughter ringing like music in his ears. 
He knew what that was like now. To have you genuinely laugh at something he said. And it was different from how you were with these men. Even different from how you had been with the Duke. His heart warmed when he realized he had something of you that no one else did, and he wanted to bottle up your laugh and keep it in his breast pocket, forever a reminder of you near his heart.
A short distance away, Carlos observed with amusement as Colin stood there, seemingly transfixed by your departure. Standing beside him was Leonor, who had also been privy to the entire spectacle. The two often found themselves together during family outings, enjoying speaking in Spanish for a change. 
“La ama,” Carlos said to Leonor, his tone tinged with amusement at Colin's evident infatuation (He loves her).
Suppressing a chuckle, Leonor discreetly cleared her throat. “Y cuanto tiempo crees que será hasta que se de cuenta?” she quipped in response (And how long do you think it'll be until he realizes?).
---
In the late afternoon, you found yourself seated by the pianoforte, the pleasant notes of your scales filling the room. Across from you, your mother quietly engrossed herself in a book, while Isabelle diligently worked on her needlepoint. Suddenly, the tranquil atmosphere of your sitting room was disrupted as your butler made an unexpected entrance. 
“Lady Montclair, a visitor,” he said politely, bowing slightly. 
Your fingers stopped playing and you looked toward your mother, who had a questioning look on her face. 
“I hadn’t been expecting anyone. And at this hour? Is everything alright?” she asked the butler. 
His face flushed slightly. “My apologies, I meant Lady Y/N Montclair,” he corrected himself. “It’s the Duke.”
But he barely had time to announce your visitor before Lord Barlow strode into your sitting room, hair disheveled and bags under his eyes. He looked positively ghastly, and you wouldn’t have doubted it if he told you he hadn’t slept in a week. 
He was panting and slightly sweaty, clearly having rushed over to your home for some unknown reason, when he took off his hat and crouched next to the pianoforte bench.
“Forgive me,” he addressed the other women in the room. Then, turning back to you, he roughly grasped your hand, placing a wet kiss on the back of it. You slightly cringed in disgust, not particularly wanting this man anywhere near you.
“Y/N, my darling, I am so terribly sorry for what happened at the Bridgerton ball. It was unforgivable. Except that you must forgive me!” he pleaded, voice full of desperation.
You were utterly confused, and more than a little angry. Who did this man think he was, barging into your home at this hour and demanding forgiveness? You shared a look with your mother, who looked equally as scandalized. 
“Lord Bar-” you started, but before you could finish, he interrupted you, grasping your hand even tighter.
“No! Not Lord Barlow. Arthur. Your Arthur. It’s me; I’m here. What happened with Miss Barrington was a foolish mistake, and it will never happen again. Marry me, Y/N. Marry me and make me the happiest man in all of Mayfair. In all of England, even. Please,” he begged. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Leonor leaving the room quietly, and your stomach churned uncomfortably at the idea of having to face this man on your own. You breathed deeply, calming yourself with the thought that your mother remained in the room before you addressed Lord Barlow. 
“I don’t understand,” you said, shaking your head. “What of Miss Barrington? She will be ruined if you do not marry her.”
He scoffed, throwing his head back and shaking his head in annoyance. “What of her? She is not as important to me as you are,” he said lowly. “I do not have with her what I have with you. I need you, Y/N. Please marry me.”
Letting the anger that had been slowly bubbling inside you take over, you snatched your hand out of his grip and stood up, towering over him. “Are you quite finished? You are completely unbelievable. I will not marry you, your Grace, and it is egregious that you would even suggest it. Do you truly have so little respect for Miss Barlow that you would leave her, ruined, as you married someone else? Do you truly think so lowly of me that you thought I would say yes?”
“Barlow, take your leave,” came a commanding voice from the doorway before the Duke could respond to you. 
With a surge of relief, you caught sight of Louis and Philippe standing firm with Leonor at their side, their expressions firm and determined, while she was looking anxiously between you and Lord Barlow. 
But the Duke was relentless, his desperation palpable as he pleaded his case, his words brimming with urgency. He stood up from where he had been kneeling and turned to face your brothers. "You don’t understand. I must marry your sister. I must!"
“I believe my brother asked you to take your leave, your Grace,” said Philippe, voice cold and cutting. “Louis, if you could be so kind as to escort Lord Barlow out.”  
Louis wasted no time, roughly grabbing Barlow’s arm and dragging him away from you as the man protested profusely. But your brother wasn’t going to let him hurt you again. It was bad enough that he had already done it once, but Louis would rather come to blows right now in your home than let the Duke stand in your presence for another second.
As Louis ushered Lord Barlow out of your sitting room, Philippe placed a protective hand in front of Leonor and pulled her behind him. Ensuring his wife’s safety, he turned to you, a concerned expression on his face.
“Y/N, are you alright?”
But you didn’t have time to answer, your father storming into the room with fury in his eyes.
“Was that Barlow I saw in the hall? Can someone give me an explanation?" he demanded, his gaze fixed on your stricken expression.
Your voice trembled as you confessed, still reeling from the shock of the encounter. "He asked me to marry him," you admitted, the words hanging heavily in the air. 
“She said no, of course. And put him in his place,” your mother added, eyes wide and fixed on the doorway still. It seemed that Lord Barlow’s unexpected appearance had been an unwelcome shock for her, too.
Your father placed his hands on his hips, staring at the two of you in disbelief. “Well done,” he finally conceded after a few moments of silence. 
You nodded meekly in response, not quite feeling anything right at this minute. 
“He is not worthy of you, Y/N. A title and fortune are important, of course, but so is honor. And he clearly has none,” said your father, disgust clear in his voice.
You’d heard this speech a million times, but this time the words rang loudly in your ears. A title and fortune are important, his words echoed in your mind. It was what your father always said, but this time you couldn’t help thinking: Colin Bridgerton, whom you had developed an inexplicable fondness for, possessed neither title nor fortune.
But as quickly as the doubt arose, you cast it aside. You reminded yourself firmly that Colin was not the sort of man a Montclair could marry. The reality was stark, and you refused to entertain the notion that such a match could ever be possible. You weren’t even sure that you liked the man, why were you thinking of marrying him?
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libraryraccoon · 2 months
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I saw the Floyd request and I thought of rook hunt in hasbin hotel.
Rip Alastor his privacy he now became the hunted the both speaking French .
Imagine rook talking about angel dust his inner beauty is making him feel loved every day saying something positive.
And Charlie and vaggie getting put on romantic dates by rook and lucifer and rook seeing them ta about how beautiful love is.
Gender : GN
Pronouns : no real pronouns used(sometimes they/them)
Character : Alastor, general headcanon
Message from Raccoon : I was also thinking of a rook!reader while writing the Floyd!Reader tbh.
TW : ROOK!READER, a little suggestive
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The Demon Of Hunt, a very strong overlord who knows everything about everyone. A predator whose prey are doomed to die.
They aren't a demon you want to mess with, you don't want to be their prey.
In their lifetime a very famous hunter living in a small village, in their death The Demon Of Hunt, the hunter everyone is afraid of.
Alastor
He met you when he was still killing overlords.
“Now, isn’t that a rather crude way of killing ?” You asked behind him.
How long have you been behind Alastor ? He has no idea.
“Oh ! And what a beautiful deer tail you have there ! C'est magnifique !” You say, touching Alastor's deer tail; ignoring the fact that you had just seen him kill an overlord.
He straight up hated you.
But he also found you interesting, especially when you could see through all his attacks.
Boring, but entertaining.
After that, you didn't let him go.
You followed him, stalking him, wherever he went.
Like a predator with its prey, observing it before killing it.
When he left for 7 years, he finally thought he had lost you…
You followed him.
For 7 fucking years he had to stay with you.
Even 8V>× didn't want to make a contract with you after seeing how weird you were.
Not to mention all the times you talked about love…
*add a disgusted Alastor*
You interfered in his life and never left, even though he tried to reject you.
And let's not even talk about your strange comments…
"Oh ! I wonder what red deer would taste like for dinner ! Or maybe a red wendigo ! Qu'en pense tu, Alastor ?"
“Red deer ?” *remembers that he is, technically, some sort of red deer/wendigo as a demon.* "Ha ha ! Stay 100km/h away from me."
When you arrived at the hotel, Alastor finally felt free ! After all his years of being the stolkant, you finally left him alone !
Well, not always, after all you would never leave your prey friend alone for too long, but you weren't with him all the time.
Alastor won't lie, not being with you 24/7 after so long was weird…
He finally had privacy-
100% complained to Rosie about you.
“And they never gave me space !” -Alastor
"Really ?" -Rosie
"Well, I'll give him some time alone. For the bathroom." -Rook!Reader, arriving out of nowhere behind Alastor.
Although Alastor considers you as a menace, there are times when he is grateful to you and to be your friend.
Like those rare times of weakness, when you helped him feel better, reassured him. It was the rare times he was grateful to have you as a friend.
I just know that when you want to talk about something private/you don't want others to hear you, you speak French.
Although sometimes you just do it to piss off other people.
"Mon cher cerf préférer ! Al' ! Je viens de découvrir quelque chose sur Vox, tu vas pas y croire !"
"Je vais préparer le thé, après tu me racontera."
You turn all Overlord meetings from boring to interesting meetings.
During meetings, you had the habit of telling everyone's secrets (except Alastor's secrets, bestie privilege), and always the most interesting ! Like this time you said you saw Carmilla decapitate an exterminator !
*After the song Respectless.* "Actually, mes chers amis, it is possible, or not, that I saw Carmilla decapitate an exterminator with her shoes. C'était un combat splendide !"
General Headcanon
You don't let anyone have privacy.
They know it, but they can't say anything.
Angel Dust suffered the most of that, he saw you during one of his shoots watching him in the shadows.. It was terrifying.
“Just try to be sexy.” -Valentino looking at Angel Dust during a shoot.
"Oh, mais mon cher, he's sexy enough like this ! Take off the underwear and people will love it !" -Rook!Reader behind Valentino, coming out of nowhere.
"MOTHERFUCKER-" *Add Valentino's scream of terror.*
You comforted Angel after each shoot, cheering him up in a more or less suspicious ways.
You call Angel Dust by his real name, Anthony. You are the only one in the hotel who knows his real name and calls him like that.
Angel Dust is sort of happy that someone thinks of him as Anthony and not Angel Dust.
Valentino hates you, as do all Vees and all the demons.
Lucifer found you weird the first time he meet you, and knowing your reputation, it was normal, but in the end you got along really well.
You 🤝 Lucifer = make Charlie and Vaggie have romantic dates by candlelight.
“Ah, youthful love ! Que c'est beau !”
“I miss the love of youth..” (in a dramatically way)
Did I mention that you and Lucifer are and always will be drama queens ?
You and Lucifer are just THAT bestie duo that everyone wants to be.
I can so see you having these dinners for two in fancy restaurants while being platonic. You say the most romantic things, speaking in French, and Lucifer joins you in those moments, doing the same.
"Oh, mon chéri, you look beautiful tonight ! Even more brilliant than usual !"
"Oh, I should be the one to tell you that ! You look beyond stunning tonight in that costume !"
You are trending on the networks.
Every. Fucking. Days.
On the networks, there are 3 teams; those who ship Lucifer x Rook!Reader, those who ship Alastor x Rook!Reader, and those who say you are a hopelessromantic and/or aromantic.
They have hilarious debates that you love to join for just fuck all and everyone.
"Well, it's true that Monsieur Alastor is quite handsome, but Lucifer ? Oh, je ne sais même pas ou commencer a son sujet !" -Rook!Reader on the networks screwing up between the teams, always changing the place between Lucifer and Alastor.
You are a star in all the circles of hell fr.
One day, Charlie asked you if you were dating her father after seeing what you were doing/writing on internet.
You answered some shit like "As much as I would love to be with him, je ne pourrais qu'en rêver. He is far too good and handsome man for a simple sinner like me."
Vaggie doesn't trust you, not in a million of eons.
Sir Pentious asked if you had a death wish after he saw you touch Alastor's deer ears…
"Oh, to die by the hand of such a magnifique et servant gentleman ! What an honor that would be !"
Sir Pentious has never seen Alastor back away from someone so fast before-
Niffty like you. You regularly complimented her on her work and her beauty.
Husk, on the contrary, doesn't like you.
He had to endure you and Alastor's shit for too long, 7 years without both of you wasn't enough.
You intrude into people's intimate moments.
And by people, I mean Husk and Anthony.
Imagine Husk and Angel Dust, just being quietly alone, a super romantic moment, and then, you pop in between the two…
But sometimes when you compliment them (one time per day), they like you.
I like to think that the Tik Tok hell version is like the one of the living, with people doing random ship. And Rook!Reader live for that.
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papuhater · 8 months
Text
EARFQUAKE
┊ ˚➶ 。˚a/n: i'm fixiated. this is short because this is kind of them getting to know eachother ┊ ˚➶ 。˚ cw: reader knows spanish ┊ ˚➶ 。˚ pairing: miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader
in which miguel o'hara falls in love with a married woman, married to his variant.
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"so this is awkward"
"shut up parker" he spat out "what did you say?"
"y-you can't be-" she stepped away "miguel? why do you look like him, this doesn't make sense, i-"
"why did you call me cariño? huh?" miguel was aggravating
"y-you look exactly like my husband!" she was walking in circles, she had taken her phone out, and seemed to be searching for something
"look, ninety nine, that's not a good pickup line, so-" before he can talk, she climbs to his platform and showed him her phone
"no, i'm married, you look like my husband!" she showed him a picture, a picture of her, being kissed on the cheek
by him
miguel stares and then looks away
"i see."
"yeah, in my dimension i'm married to miguel b o'hara."
"oh." peter said and mayday babbled, he held her up "mayday took a dump, i gotta change her, goodbye." he ran with mayday in his hands, while the two of them just stood there.
"yeah."
"so i'm married in your dimension?"
"yes."
"to you?"
"mhm" she nodded, clearly annoyed
"¿qué vi en tí?"
"that's rude."
"you were too."
"because you were first, estupido." he rolled his eyes and shook his head
"anyways, look, ninety nine, i want you to join this society."
"why should i?"
he sighed loudly and massaged his temple, then he faced you
"look, we keep the multiverse in check, and we are a spider society, we fight anomalies, and we keep dimensions from dissapearing."
she took her mask of, revealing her face, and she stared at miguel with serious eyes
"what if i want to destroy the multiverse?" he visibly stiffened "just kidding."
"you better." he huffed while glaring, he grabbed a gizmo from the table and threw it to her direction, she quickly caught it and eyed it curiously, her lips tightening into a straight line as she cocked her head
"so... do i put this on my wrist?"
"no" he stared at her with full on seriousness "you place it on your neck, even though the gizmo looks like a watch" he huffed "of course you put it on your wrist."
"damn you don't need to be sarcastic"
"i have to be when i'm surrounded with pendejos."
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"are you a fucking imbecil?"
"no, but you on the other hand, possibly"
"i told you empanadas de carne" he got closer, as if he was explaining to a little kid "not empanadas mixtas."
miguel had sent you to the cafeteria to get empanadas de carne, it had been a few months since you had joined, but you always ignored his wishes, it was hard to see him in a serious light, mostly because he has the face of your husband, it was very hard at first, your tongue slipping and calling him amor, cariño, etc., at first it bothered him, a lot, but then he got used to it.
"but you like empanadas mixtas-"
"warm, freshly baked ones, not cold freezing ones!" he growled, he turned away while muttering 'ya no puedo más' repeatedly.
"didn't you mami taught you to not be picky?" she swung towards him, with the carton in hand, she got closer to him "or did your mami feed you, until you were 10?" she cooed while grabbing an empanada
"aquí viene el avioncito~" she said in a sing-song voice, she made airplane sounds and lifted the empanada to his lips, they lightly touched them, he had a scowling face, and he pushed her gently with his arm.
"stop it" he scowled, while turning away, but you did the same
"oh c'mon" you pushed the empanada against his lips again
"¡parala!" he roared, expecting you to cower away, but you didn't, you shrugged and left the carton with the empanadas in his desk
"you better eat them or i swear-"
"ya, ya, lo hare." miguel shrugged you off
she took one empanada and left
"i'm clocking off, amor!"
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your home was comfy, a nice apartment in the city of york nueva, you always made sure to check the windows, to see if miguel, well, your miguel, had arrived.
he hadn't, it was still afternoon, and he was at work. so she quickly dipped in one of the windows and took her mask off, she took a deep breath. and her routine began, she went to her room, changed into civilian clothes, and began cooking, possibly some caldito, and as she boiled the chicken, her phone rang.
"yes?"
'hola mi amor' miguel's sweet voice filled the speaker, and she smiled, this was her miguelito, not her boss.
"hey, how are you? how's work?" she asked,
'boring as always" he chuckled "so i called you to tell you that i'm not gonna make to dinner" her smile dropped "some co workers invited me to get some drinks"
"i could come" she offered, her miguel had started to drift away, as if there was a wall between them. there was a pregnant pause, filled with tension "that was stupid, you know, you can go, you don't need to ask for permission, have a nice night."
"okay, love you"
"...love you"
she hanged up and left the phone on the counter. she sighed and massaged her temples.
her and miguel were having a rough patch, it possibly began when she stated that she wanted kids, a lot.
miguel didn’t like children, and it created a big argument, harmful things were said, and a barrier was created between them
she sighed, went to her room and laid down, staring holes into the ceiling, the lone feeling crawled into her skin, and she felt cold.
“mierda” she mumbled and turned around, hugging herself.
it was going to be a long night
series list
translations:
"¿qué vi en tí?" =what did I saw in you?
amor, cariño = love, sweetie
párala= stop it
ya, ya, lo haré = okay, okay, I’ll do i
'hola mi amor' = hi mi love
caldito = soup
mierda= shit
taglist
@simeon-lovergirl
@allysunny
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