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#But never gave me a clear reason
bonebabbles · 8 months
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I keep starting and abandoning posts that go into my drafts, as I try to stay tasteful about how fucking revolted this part makes me. Like, I'm legitimately unsure if the very relevant trauma I have is making me see things that aren't here
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But first we see that Star Flower is trying to ingratiate herself to the group, just after she reappears from chapter 5. Chapter 5 is about how Clear Sky is still abusive towards his son, and she comes in after stroking his ego, stressing how alone she is, and appealing to how she'll be loyal unlike his child. (She glances over at Thunder, directly implying this.)
Now in Chapter 9, she's babysitting and trying to care for Milkweed's kits (in spite of discomfort from Milkweed), taking a wet sleeping space away from the others, and pulling more than her own weight "without complaint." Putting herself through harsh sitations to prove her worth.
All while trying to appear extra attractive to Thunder, and later Clear Sky. Basically every man in power who can "protect her"
Like, am I going fucking crazy? With how we later find out that Star Flower was "promised as a mate" to One Eye's subordinate Slash, is... is that hypersexualization? One of the extremely stigmatized symptoms of sexual abuse?
She goes to find Clear Sky alone to throw herself at his paws, and he's very quickly attracted to how she promises to perfectly obey him, have no needs of her own, and finally be the perfect servant that he desires
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"I don't deserve your trust because I am dirt. I understand you because I also regret something. I'd die for you. I'll never betray you unlike those who have."
This isn't manipulation. She means this. The story is playing their romance sincerely. She's comparing "betraying" Thunder by telling her own father about an assassination ambush to Clear Sky's history of child abuse, physical assault, and murder
She believes she's on the same level as this; a monster who murdered a childhood friend in a fit of entitled rage. She was a victim of One Eye who really believes that the way her father used her means she "understands" this monster, deserves this treatment.
And Clear Sky LIKES that.
He likes that she will have COMPLETE FAITH in him. That she will follow him WITHOUT QUESTION. That she will OBEY his orders. That's fucking verbatim, that's THE TEXT!!!
WHILE HE'S STILL CRYING ABOUT "ive tried to atone every day" FOLLOWING THE LAST TWO BOOKS WHERE THE ONLY SHITTY THING HE DOESN'T DO IS MURDER INNOCENT WOMEN
Am I insane?? Am I wrong??? Am I missing something here???? Why the fuck is the fandom takeaway "haha sexy girl steals his dad." Did I read the same book
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There's always a danger of caring too much about a story, and then getting paralyzed by the need to do it justice, so it never gets written.
I've solved this problem in the past by writing stories so fast that I don't have time to get too invested, or writing stories that I'm not that attached to.
But maybe the trick is to love the story so much that I want to share it any way I can, even if it's imperfect. To feel that any version of this story is better than the story never getting written at all. To get out of my own way and stop worrying about what other people will think of my writing, or even what I think of my writing, and love the story for its own sake, love the readers enough to want to have the joy of sharing the story with them.
Maybe it'll work. Maybe it won't. But so far it feels like a much better approach.
#adventures in writing#i think inklings has finally born fruit for me#other years i've stayed far away from beloved story concepts#for just this reason#and then i mentally shelved most of those story concepts#recognizing i'd likely never write them in a way that lives up to my imagination#and that probably gave me the distance i needed to pick some of them up again#for one thing the short time frame of inklings forces me to get down to the heart of the concept to fit it into a short story#and the long development time means i've had time to figure out what the core of the concept *is*#what keeps this story lingering in my imagination; which means i know what the good parts are#and then the deadline also forces me to try to write it fast and short#because if i don't write it for inklings i likely never will#and that's a tragedy i want to avoid#having such a clear concept of the story's core#means i can put up with ugly haphazard drafts#because i know what the overall story feels like; i've had years to develop it#so instead of a bad draft proving a story's not worth writing#i *know* that the story's worth writing because it's stuck with me this long#so the ugly drafts are just the building blocks necessary to create the final product#of course the danger is that i'll put out a story and it won't be as cool outside my head#and people will hate this piece of my soul i've poured out to them#but if i love it enough maybe it'll reach that special status#where it means so much to me personally that the wider audience reaction doesn't matter#but before i worry about this i gotta write a draft first
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tobe-sogolden · 1 year
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scientia-rex · 7 months
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When I was in ninth grade I wanted to challenge what I saw as a very stupid dress code policy (not being allowed to wear spikes regardless of the size or sharpness of the spikes). My dad said to me, “What is your objective?”
He said it over and over. I contemplated that. I wanted to change an unfair dress code. What did I stand to gain? What did I stand to lose? If what I really wanted was to change the dress code, what would be my most effective potential approach? (He also gave me Discourses on the Fall of Rome by Titus Livius, Machiavelli’s magnum opus. Of course he’d already given me The Prince, Five Rings, and The Art of War.)
I ultimately printed out that phrase, coated it in Mod Podge, and clipped it to my bathroom mirror so I would look at it and think about it every day.
What is your objective?
Forget about how you feel. Ask yourself, what do you want to see happen? And then ask, how can you make it happen? Who needs to agree with you? Who has the power to implement this change? What are the points where you have leverage over them? If you use that leverage now, will you impair your ability to use it in the future? Getting what you want is about effectiveness. It is not about being an alpha or a sigma or whatever other bullshit the men’s right whiners are on about now. You won’t find any MRA talking points in Musashi, because they are not relevant.
I had no clear leverage on the dress code issue. My parents were not on the PTA; neither were any of my friend’s parents who liked me. The teachers did not care about this. Ultimately I just wore what I wanted, my patent leather collar from Hot Topic with large but flattened spikes, and I had guessed correctly—the teachers also did not care enough to discipline me.
I often see people on tumblr, mostly the very young, flail around in discourse. They don’t have an objective. They don’t know what they want to achieve, and they have never thought about strategizing and interpersonal effectiveness. No one can get everything they want by being an asshole. You must be able to work with other people, and that includes smiling when you hate them.
Read Machiavelli. Start with The Prince, but then move on to Discourses. Read Musashi’s Five Rings. Read The Art of War. They’re classics for a reason. They can’t cover all situations, but they can do more for how you think about strategizing than anything you’re getting in middle school and high school curricula.
Don’t vote third party unless you can tell me not only what your objective is but also why this action stands a meaningful chance of accomplishing it. Otherwise, back up and approach your strategy from a new angle. I don’t care how angry you are with Biden right now. He knows about it, and he is both trying to do something and not doing enough. I care about what will happen to millions of people if we have another Trump presidency. Look up Ross Perot, and learn from our past. Find your objective. If it is to stop the genocide in Palestine now, call your elected representatives now. They don’t care about emails; they care about phone calls, because they live in the past. I know this because I shadowed a lobbyist, because knowing how power works is critical to using it.
How do you think I have gotten two clinics to start including gender care in their planning?
Start small. Chip away. Keep working. Find your leverage; figure out how and when to effectively use it. Choose your battles, so that you can concentrate on the battle at hand instead of wasting your resources in many directions. Learn from the accumulated wisdom of people who spent their lives learning by doing, by making mistakes, by watching the mistakes of their enemies.
Don’t be a dickhead. Be smarter than I was at 14. Ask yourself: what is your objective?
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lxnarphase · 5 months
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━━ ❝ sweet, sticky, thick, and pretty ❞
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☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : toji wants to give you another baby
☾₊‧⁺...cw : toji fushiguro x fem!reader, smut, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, overstimulation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, rough sex, begging, smug and cocky reader, feral toji
☾₊‧⁺...a/n : this is a post from my old blog but i revamped it and i really wanted to share this again because i was really proud of it. and yes, it's another breeding kink + pregnant kink. consider it a part two, since it takes place after megumi is born
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toji never thought he’d get off on the idea of having another kid with you.
yet here he is, dick hard in his sweatpants as he thinks about you carrying his baby again...how you'd start to fill out all over again, that cute chubbiness coming back, how he'd have an excuse to dote on you whenever you complained about the simplest of things.
it starts off with how he sees you coo over megumi, calling him your sweet baby. you're such a good mother, too, it's clear you'd likely be the favorite parent to that little brat.
but god, does he find it attractive just seeing you be a mom to the kid that he gave you.
the day you ask megumi what he wants for his upcoming 4th birthday at dinner, neither one of you is prepared for the words that come out of your son's mouth.
“i want a baby sister,” he states bluntly as he chews on the steamed carrots, looking at you and toji. it was clear from how confident the little guy is that he's put a lot of thought into this.
“but, i don’t want her to look like daddy. he’s ugly, i want her to look like mommy.”
little brat. you straight up choke, trying to stop the laugh-coughs as toji looks at his son, offended. this really is his son, because who else but you and the kid he made with you could have the nerve to say shit like that to him?
“twerp, you look just like me, you realize that, right?”
megumi huffs, looking at his dad in the cutest little glare. “that’s 'cause i'm a boy, though," he explains as if it's obvious, his precious little cheeks puffed up as he stuffs more of his food in his mouth.
"my sister has to be like mommy. you’d be an ugly girl, daddy.” toji just rolls his eyes, pinching the cheeks of the mini him, ignoring his protests. as the two bicker, you think. would it...really be that bad to have another baby? you always wanted a girl, after all, and toji took such good care of you and megumi...it couldn't be that bad. “well, uhm,” you begin, catching the attention of toji, an unfamiliar smile on your face.
there's a mischievous look on your face right now, his eyes narrowing as he waits for your response. whatever you're about to say is either going to haunt him for the next few days or make him roll his eyes at you.
“i'm sure daddy and i can work something out for you, 'gumi, but let’s think of some other things, too, m'kay?” 
ah.
you went the haunting route.
ignoring the little cheer his son let out, toji can't hide the disbelieving look that crosses his face when he processes what you just said.
'daddy'?
you've said the word, sure, usually when you talk to megumi about him. but something was different about how you said it, the way you looked at him when you said it, the barely visible flutter of your eyes...a silent promise there'd definitely be a deeper conversation about it later.
the very day megumi has a sleepover with the neighbor's kid, yuuji, toji is mentally cheering. he loves his son with all his heart, he truly does, but having a toddler in bed meant limited contact with his pretty wife.
it's only been 3 days since that little comment you made and it's been on toji's mind constantly. every time he tried to bring it up with you, megumi would interrupt and toji was not being the reason his son ended up traumatized because he overheard mommy and daddy talking about making babies in the kitchen.
"bye, gumi! make sure you behave for mr. nanami, okay? have fun with yuuji," you coo as you press two kisses to your son's cheeks, snapping toji back to the present.
"see ya, kid, be good," toji says, giving a nod of acknowledgement to nanami. megumi barely says goodbye before he runs after yuuji to the car, his run a bit awkward because of his overnight backpack.
waving goodbye to nanami, you shut the door, turning to look at toji with that smile as you.
"hi, toj."
you think you're so cute, don't you?
"hey, mama."
toji can't even lie, you are. wearing his t-shirt and sweatpants? yeah, your the cutest thing he's ever laid eyes one. his hands rest on your hips, pulling you flush to his chest. fuck, you weren't even doing anything but he could already feel himself getting hard just from looking at you.
he's never been so whipped in his life.
"d'you wanna talk," you murmur lowly, your finger running over the thin silver chain on his neck. "we could go to the bedroom...and talk about the baby thing."
toji's eyes darken at the suggestion, knowing exactly what would happen the moment you both go into the bedroom. "yeah. think it's 'bout time we talked about it," he hums as he grips your wrist, tugging you to your room.
as soon you both step foot into the bedroom, toji hungrily presses your lips against his, letting out a deep groan. "had me thinkin' about knockin' you up again all fuckin' week, mama," toji sighs against your lips, tongue running over your lower lip.
"wanted to stuff you full so fucking bad."
feeling you sigh so prettily into the kiss, his doesn't hesitate to shove his tongue in your mouth, hands busying themselves as they push your (his) sweats down off your hips before guiding you back to the bed.
you knew he would get excited over your comment, but you didn't think it would be to the point where he was rutting into you as he practically devoured you, feeling your back hit the bed.
“you want to give our 'gumi a sister? wanna be a mommy again," he questions, breaking the kiss to press his forehead against yours. one of his hands slithers up under the oversized t-shirt to cup one of your tits and roughly knead it, his thumb just barely grazing over your nipple.
"wanna have another kid with big, bad toji? tsk, poor cunt missed gettin' stuffed full of cum?" 
you just hum a little breathless. your hand comes up to cup his cheek, looking from his lips back up to his eyes. he's so handsome when he's over you like this, his chain dangling right in your face.
“maaaaybe. megumi just made me think about it, 's all. you've been a good dad t' him, how could i not want to give you another one,” you coo, guiding him closer so you can press a kiss against the scar on his lip. 
“besides…”
toji grunts when he feels your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him flush against you so you can feel the thick, heaviness of his arousal through his sweatpants.
“don’t you want me to make you a daddy again, toji? c'mon, knock me up, big guy.”
after those words leave your pretty little mouth, toji is on you as he realizes that you're 100% going to give him the worse breeding kink ever.
"'m gonna fuckin' ruin you," he growls into your ear. you aren't given a second to protest before he's ripped your panties off, complaints falling on deaf ears. the tips of his fingers gently run over your puffy pussy lips, your slick wetness coating his fingers.
"fuck, mama, you're soaked already." his eyes are focused on your face as you squirm and whimper when he swirls little circles into your clit, an evil smirk on his face. "can't wait to fill you up 'til you're dripping with my cum, doll."
you can't stop your hips from trying to grind into his hand, eyes rolling back when he teased your entrance. "toji, c'mon, baby, i need you s'bad."
"baby, you know you can't take me without prep," he coos at you. he can feel how hot and slick you are, finally, finally slipping two of his fingers inside your cunt. and oh, the way you arch your back a little bit with a pleading whine of his name is so, so pretty, you're so fucking cute.
"mmn, maybe y'don't need prep, you just sucked my fingers right in," he says huskily before pressing a little kiss to the corner of your mouth. "you wanna try, mama? wanna see if you can fit my cock in you? really gonna feel that stretch, though, babe," toji warns, knowing you can't give a sensible answer when he starts pumping his fingers in and out.
when it seems like your about to answer him, the only thing that escapes your mouth is a shaky moan, his thick fingers curling to hit just the right spot inside of you that has you gushing. unable to form words, you tug on his shirt and nod frantically, just wanting to feel toji stuffing you full.
"yeah? you wanna try?" toiji pulls his fingers out of you, chuckling when you whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness. he pops his fingers in his mouth, cock throbbing at the addictive taste of your cunt on his tongue. "c'mon, we're both wearing too much, let's get you outta that shirt, ma."
you waste no time throwing the shirt off, not even giving him the chance to undress you. but once your shirt is off, you're practically ripping off his stupid black t-shirt that made his pecs look fucking delicious and those damn sweatpants and boxers that hid your prize.
as you fuss over his boxers, toji takes a moment to look at you spread out on the bed before him. you still had a bit of chub on you, tummy nice and soft and cute, just how he likes it. if he knew where his phone was, he'd take a picture of you right now; frustrated, horny, naked, and pretty. all for him.
"tojiiii, stop staring and kick off your stupid boxers, you're getting on my nerves!"
you can't even look him in the eye as you say that because you're too busy staring right at his cock, a thick bead of precum formed at the tip. the lick of your lips told him everything he needed to know, but he wasn't fucking your mouth, not tonight at least.
"what? i can't look at my own wife," he asks with a raised eyebrow, biting back a laugh when you swat at his hand that pinches one your puffy nipple. "tch, so rude, doll."
before you can snap back at him, he brushes the swollen head of his cock against your slick folds, smearing your wet over the tip. that shuts you up quickly and toji has to hold back another laugh. always so fussy until he finally gives you what you want. he's spoiled you rotten.
"toji," comes a soft whine, so soft he nearly misses it. your eyes are focused between your legs, lower lips between your teeth as he teases you with his cockhead. you huff, pushing your hand against his chest to give you enough space to shift positions, knowing exactly what would get him to stop teasing you.
once you roll over, you shift so that you're face down, ass up, you hand slipping between your thighs to spread your sticky pussy open, slick dripping down your fingers. "tojiiii, please? please, baby, stop teasing an' put a baby in me...please, hubby, give your wife what she wants."
any other whines or begs are interrupted when his hand comes down hard on your ass. he was going to give you what you wanted, what you both wanted. he was going to fuck you, fill you up with all his cum and whatever leaked out? he’d make sure to push it back in, whether with his fingers, mouth, or tip of his dick. 
when he finally pushes into you, he just lets out the most wrecked groan you’ve heard from him yet, each inch sinking into you stretching those tight walls just a bit more.
"holy shit...fuuck me, baby, too fucking tight, you're strangling my cock," he hisses, fingers digging into the fat of your hips as he gave you inch after inch.
god, just the thought of fucking you not just to feel good, but to fill you up, get you to take his seed deep inside to give him another kid? it's fucking with his head, his wife was gonna be the death of him.
both of you moan once he's all the way inside. you feel so full, his cock is too fucking big it doesn't make any sense and you genuinely think you should've let him fully prep you...but shifting your hips just a little bit has his tip pressing against something sinful. you whine and reach back to grab at one of his hands on your waist, turning to shoot him a mean glare as you demand, “stop stalling n’ knock me up, toji." 
who is he to deny what his wife asks?
using a hand to steady himself on the headboard, his hips begin to move slowly, pulling out just an inch and pushing forward again. "so tight 'n' warm..." each thrust hits deeper and more powerful than the last as toji begins to pick up speed, the thickness of his cock hitting every deep part of you.
it's almost too much, but you don't want him to stop, especially not when toji started running his mouth.
“shit, look at you, baby…takin’ it like a champ.”
now you really wish you stayed on your back, then at least you could've slapped a hand over his mouth to shut him up. you drop your head down against the mattress with a moan, starting to move your hips to match his thrusts, the room filling with the sound of skin slapping on skin.
“fuuck, c'mon, throw that ass back on me, thaaaat’s it, good girl.” 
he starts pounding into you harder when he feels you tightening up on him. the sweet moans and adorable words of “gimme more,” “baby, please,” or “s’ too good, toj,’” only pushing him to get even deeper, to get you to cum so he could stuff you full.
he coos when he sees you starting to scramble up further on the bed, away from his relentless fucking. he knows that he found that sweet spot that would have you creaming in minutes.
"tsk, you just never fuckin' learn, huh? 's always gonna be too much for you, isn't it," he huffs as his hand finds its way into your hair, tugging your head back to keep you from moving more. “hey. hey, nonono, don’t run away from it, lemme have it," he coos at you, following you up the mattress.
you never change, always swearing up and down that you wouldn't run from his cock, that you'd be able to take him. you wanted this, you wanted your precious husband to fuck another baby into you, t'give 'gumi a little sister, s’ i’m gonna give it to you.”
toji may sound like he’s still put together, but he’s just thankful you can’t see his face since yours is pressed into the pillows at the top of the bed.
you can’t see how he’s barely holding himself together, trying his hardest not to let himself go too much. the last thing he needs is to cum before you, knowing that while you wouldn’t mind, he’d be annoyed for breaking his streak.
he’s brought back into the present when you manage to turn your head a little, able to look him in the eye, and god, does he love what he sees.
your mouth is open as you moan for him, eyes lidded and focused on only him. he sees the little tears gathered in them, not quite spilling over but the fact that they’re there tells him he’s the one making you feel that good. 
“tuh-toji, ’m gonna cum, gonna cum—!”
"yeah?" hearing you moan so sweetly for him only makes toji smirk, fingers digging into your hips as he helps you meet each thrust. “gonna make a mess f'me already? poor little cunt can't handle gettin' fucked so good? mmn, shit, 's okay, baby. let go for me, mama, cum on daddy’s cock.” 
"t-tojiiiii," you shakily moan, nearly ripping the sheets as you cum suddenly. it was his voice, the way he tried to sound put together but you could hear how desperate he was to feel your pussy clamp down on him and get his cock nice and messy.
toji's deep, guttural moans mix with your cries when he unexpected is pushed over the edge, the way you desperately grinded back against him causing him to swear under his breath as he lost his pace, groaning your name as he emptied into you. it felt so hot, the pulsating warmth of his tip nudging against your cervix paired with his thick cum filling you up dizzying the both of you. 
you expect some kind of snarky comment from toji, trying to catch your breath so you could reply when he said it. but nothing comes (you have to stop yourself from laughing at the pun). you turn to look back, sighing when toji pulls out of you. usually he stayed inside, leaning down to tease you for cumming so fast...but he didn't.
something was wrong and for some reason, you felt like your pussy was in danger.
“toj…?”
he didn’t answer. he probably didn’t even hear you, not with the way he was looking so intensely at the mess between your thighs. the mess he made. toji doesn’t know what comes over him, his hands practically moving on their own as he moves you over onto your back, then moving his hands down to your sensitive hole and spreading. 
the scene in front of him just breaks him. you let out a soft whine, hips gently rolling into his hands. his eyes stay stuck between your legs—sharp and focused—as they watch the thick globs of his hot cum drip out of your hole and down onto the bed sheets.
the groan that leaves him is sinful, and once you make eye contact with him, you realize how fucked you are. he’s hard again, almost making you believe he didn’t cum if it weren’t for the creamy sheen of his cum on his throbbing dick and the hotness of his dripping out of you. before you know it, toji’s climbing over you, making sure your legs get pushed over to his shoulders as he pushes you into a mating press.
yeah.
you're fucked.
you keep making eye contact, and now that he’s so close to you, you see how crazed he looks. his eyes, completely black due to his blown pupils, have an unhinged look in them, and the half smirk on his face only makes you worry about your ability to walk the next day.
“t-toji, if you need a break to calm down, then-oh!” 
he shuts you up by pushing himself inside you, loving how your eyes cross so prettily. he has you now, you can't run away from the overstimulating feeling of him fucking you in this position. and when you feel his hands come up and lock together on your head to really keep you in place, you feel yourself gush all over his cock at the simple display of how strong he was compared to you.
you're so fucked.
all you can do is moan and cry out his name, hands grabbing whatever part of him they could reach. but he doesn't let you break eye contact, keeping you close to his face so he could see every little expression. and fuck, does he like what he sees.
“t-tojiii, t’ deep, t’ deep!”
“wan’ me t’ stop? t’ stop fuckin’ this messy hole?”
“fuck, y-you stop, and I’ll c-choke the shit out of yo-ouh!”
“that’s it, take it, take daddy’s cock, mama, lemme breed you.”
everything about this position is driving both of you crazy.
the closeness has you reeling, the way toji just cannot bring himself to break eye contact, needing to see what he was doing to you.
his thick cock is hitting deep, almost too deep, with the way each thrust of his hips causes the tip to press into the sweet spot inside you every. single. time. 
he has you for the whole day and the whole night, he's going to make sure you're stuffed entirely and doesn't plan on stopping until either you tell him you need a break or until he can't cum anymore. and even then, he doesn't think anything will be able to get him out of your cunt.
but with the way he just moaned into your mouth, thick spurts of more cum coating your insides…and the way he didn’t get soft, instead pressing you even deeper into the mattress as he began to pound into you with a groan of how much he loved your pussy…
you were sure it would be a while until he was done with you.
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all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
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filmstarved · 26 days
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i can fix him and fuck him.
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18+ [logan x female!reader]
nobody can break through logan's walls with ease like you can. and he actually lets you, welcomes it even. he needs it to breathe and when he's ready to walk out of the gifted youngsters door, there you are again.
word count: 5,737
logan sulks. he’s so devoid of love and compassion that he sulks. he’s confused most days, too. unsure of who he is and what he even wants. the people who are somehow closest to him can’t even find their way past the fire breathing dragons that guard the drawbridge to his heart. (scott jokes that he doesn’t have a heart and that the adamantium replaced it and he’s fully pumping cold, hard metal).
logan is a man who answers to himself and doesn’t give people even the slightest chance to ask him a dumb fucking question because he’s not in the fucking mood. he’s never in the mood…unless you put him in one. usually a good one.
you earn a smile from logan as easy as the sun makes it seem to rise every morning and the moon to take its place at night. it leaves the team dumfounded. they believe if you weren’t here, logan would have left a long time ago. they’re right. logan used to search high and low for any excuse to leave. he never knew where he’d go, he’d just…go. but you didn’t dare let him out of your sight. not ever since the professor had brought you to what you call home a little over a year ago now.
deep down, he wanted reasons to stay. somewhere deep inside that metal frame…he wanted things to be right again. he’d find it tiring most days to carry around his grief and anger. but you gave him reasons to stay just one more day.
“so we’re working on that thing for charles together tomorrow right?” you asked on a wednesday, standing so cutely in the threshold of his door that it was almost annoying to him.
“so we’re catching that movie downtown with ororo and hank tomorrow right? it starts at 6!” you asked on a thursday.
“heeyyy, lo…do you possibly, maybe think you could sub for scott’s morning classes tomorrow? he has a dentist appointment…,” you shyly asked on a very late sunday night. (logan heard scott’s jokes about his heart so he made you ask. logan was the only one available.)
but behind his stoic stature and intimidating glare fixed on his face accompanied by knitted brows, he’d always say yes…to you. you were his reason for staying. he knew it but would never admit it. you knew it but played the oblivious part well. and the rest of the team would gossip about it when you two weren’t around. but as long as you were here, logan has nowhere else to be.
although as of late, you’ve been busy. much busier than usual. charles has you creating plans for a mission happening soon. when you’re not teaching mutant ethics 101 to freshmen, you’re hauled up in the lab or library; sometimes darting back and forth between the two multiple times a day leaving very little time to worry about logan.
tonight, you brought your work back to your dorm. as you cleaned up a rough draft of an exit strategy, rain began to tap lightly on the window. you had lit candles littered around the room as well as grouped on your table, a small desk lamp illuminated the surface further. as you reached up to stretch your aching back muscles, you were startled by the sound of a throat clearing.
your eyes shot to the sound at your door where logan stood, leaning against the frame; arms crossed and still like he had been glued to the spot. 
“hi lo,” you say. “y’scared me, heh.” you aren’t used to logan greeting you often, especially not this late. he’s over 150 years old, of course he’s grumpy and an early bird. you’re usually the one at his door with requests and invitations to social events he assumes can be nothing short of insufferable. he sighs, his stare dropping to burn holes in the ground. “logan, are you-“
“i think i’m gonna get out of here, bub.”
those words felt like an arrow hitting the bullseye in your chest and then another splitting the first one right through the center.
“wha-what do you mean?…you’re leaving?” you asked, confusion and frustration trembling in your voice.
“it’s too hard being here.”
with that, you stood up from your chair, beelining to him. “c’mere,” you say hushed, pulling on his leather clad arm, trying to unfold them and get him out of the door frame. he doesn’t budge and you pull “the look” that you know he can’t say no to. “come sit with me please, lo.”
he unfolds his arms which allows you to grab his hands to lead him to take a load off on your bed. your bare feet pat on the hardwood floor as you quickly go back to close the door.
you walked back over to him, assessing his body language. ever since he let you use your mutation to “read him” a few months ago, you told him you’d never do it again without his permission. one gaze into his eyes and a touch of his skin and you could feel everything wracking around in his head. anxiety, rage, hate but love, pain. it was hard to feel just for a moment and your heart cracked knowing he was riddled with those feelings constantly.
but right now you couldn’t help it, he was slouched on the edge of the bed, his head dropping to rest in his large hands, and apparently ready to walk right out of the door. your powers are amplified with a touch and even more when you can look into their eyes. from a distance, you could feel a sense of unease and something else… a pressure…built up in your stomach as you surveyed your friend. it didn’t feel bad though…it felt familiar. a good familiar. you stopped reading him and did your best to shrug off the aching stomach feeling and care for your disheveled logan.
he wasn’t emotional, like ever. he hid all that, only showing you what you wanted to see; what he believed you wished him to be — happy, whatever that was. but that couldn’t’ve been farther from the truth. sure, you want him to be happy but also just whatever he wanted to feel, you wouldn’t suppress it or try to change it to fit some ideal of who people on the outside want him to be. yes, he was one of the meanest motherfuckers you had ever met but he was your mean motherfucker. (whatever that means because nothing has ever really been clear between you two).
you walked closer to him, forcing yourself in his diabolical bubble. you stood between his legs, removing his hands from his face to wrap them around your waist. you scooped your hands under his scruffy chin, pulling up to get a look into his bloodshot eyes. oh, he’d been crying.
“lo…,” you muttered. “why were you crying, wolv?” you slide a thumb across his cheek where tears had stained the skin. “why do you want to leave?”
he pulled his face away, breaking his stare with you. he dropped his head forward to rest on your stomach, wrapping his arms around your legs so his hands rested on the back of your thighs. he began to slowly rub the exposed skin of them that your very short night shorts didn’t cover. he lifted the hem of your shirt slightly to press his hot face into the soft, cool skin underneath. he hummed into it, allowing you to feel the vibration.
“logan,” you softly moaned his name under your breath. his fingers press firmly, inching closer to the crease in the skin where your ass meets thigh.
“is this okay?” he asks lowly, when he looks up for confirmation to keep going, you’re already looking down at him nodding. “say it’s okay for me to touch you like this, bub.”
“yes, keep going, logan,” you said curtly. in your voice there is a hint of need. you hadn’t been touched like this since jean’s christmas party, tipsy off spiked egg nog in the garden with a guy whose mutation was a very wet, long tongue. flirting with him seemed intriguing in the moment, but five minutes later, it rendered itself utterly useless due to user error. the sexual tension between you and logan is so potent it usually clears out a room. aside from accidental brushes of hands and quick looks at each others lips mid conversation, neither one of you has acted on it.
his hums turn to growls and soft whimpers as your hands ran through and tugged his hair. your fingers found their way to his nape, splaying out to grip the hair there in your fist. he managed to place a single kiss on the skin right above the elastic of your shorts before you pulled his head back to scrutinize his face.
“you don’t have permission to read me,” he groaned. before you could ask how he even knew that’s what you were doing he said, “you get this serious, focused look in your eyes. i can feel you in my head.”
“logan, what are we doing?” you ask, releasing his hair and stepping out of his bubble. 
his hands drop from the absence of your thighs onto his lap and his sighs frustratingly. 
“what do you mean?” he asks, admiring your body in the dim light with a semi pressing on the denim of his jeans through his boxers.
“i’m…not doing this with you…if you’re just gonna disappear from my bed before the fuckin’ sun comes up. i’m not doing this,” you said, with your hands on your hips.
he pressed his hands into his knees to push himself up to tower over you. he took two big steps forward and stood in front of you. his hand raised up to brush the back of his fingers across your cheek to cup it and rub his thumb over the warm skin. 
he pressed his lips to yours, skillfully allowing his tongue access to it. you let him. “i give you permission,” he moaned in your mouth. “read me. feel how i feel about you…how i’ve always felt about you.”
he welcomed the hesitant slip of your hands past his jacket and under his shirt, shivering and chuckling “mm, cold” into your mouth. you rested your cool touch on his hips and with his mouth obsessed with yours, you read him. 
your head dizzied instantly and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. you had never felt anything as strong as this. you could almost taste the colors in logan’s head. your heart dropped to your stomach like you were on a rollercoaster, feeling sick from adrenaline in the best ways. and then, returned that good familiar feeling. this time buried even deeper in your stomach, moving it’s way lower…and lower until logan was swallowing the noises escaping you. before you literally passed out, you dropped your hands and took back ownership of your lips and tongue. breathing heavily, you moved away from him to collect yourself.
a beat of silence followed by a heavy sigh and a “well, say something” from logan passed and you opened your mouth to speak before shutting it again.
that…was the best thing you had ever felt. no drug could compare to the euphoria that a minute of kissing logan could bring. you could practically feel yourself lubricating and your upper thighs unconsciously squeezed together as you scrambled to find thoughts.
there were none. your mind already dumb and wanting more of him…more of the feeling. your fists planted firmly on both your hips as if you were grounding yourself to the floor to avoid buckling. you eyed the ground, looked back up at him and forwarded with another heated, taking-in-each-others-breath kiss. your hands found their way to the same place gripping the hair on his nape to which he praised the tug with a moan. he supported your balance as your whines got more whiney and needy and your hands held onto him like life support.
“lay down,” he said into your kiss. it wasn’t really a command, more of a warning because he tossed you on the bed like unfolded laundry.
he stood over you as you collected yourself, darting your tongue out to taste the spit he left behind. you propped yourself up on your elbows to get a look at the man casting a shadow over you. without the sounds of pleasure exclaiming in each others mouths, your ears absorbed the comforting sound of the battering rain. a tree branch smacked the window as thunder rumbled outside.
logan took a moment to admire your presence. starting at the top, he gazed upon your hair that he associates with vanilla and roses and the times he’d touch himself wondering how it’d feel being wrapped around his hand and pulled.
as he removed his leather jacket, he took his time mentally undressing you. feeling even more pressure build in your clit, you bore your hips down into the mattress, rolling them in circles to stimulate the swollen nub. he beheld your tits, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip at the sight of your hard buds under your very thin, white tank top. he threw his heavy jacket to the side, letting it thud in a ball on the ground.
“you look so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, deeply enthralled by your scantily clad figure laid out in front of him. unable to stop staring, you could see the bulge in his pants get larger and it ridiculously turned you on. with you making eye contact with the crotch of his jeans, he effortlessly unfastened his belt buckle. the metallic buckle clanked to the floor as his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles. 
he stroked himself while he looked upon you. it was like you could read his mind, because you began to touch yourself. the twitch of his lips and darkening of his eyes validated your teasing. letting yourself drop back on the bed, you caressed your body for him. one hand occupied by cupping your tit and pinching and twisting your nipple while the other is exploring the wet spot left on your panties. not being able to handle eye-fucking you any longer, he dropped to his knees on the edge of the bed between your legs. logan hooked his arms under your knees, pulling you close which in your intoxicatingly lustful brain you found funny, so you laughed.
logan spread your thighs open so he could fit in between them to leave wet, sloppy kisses all over your skin. he nibbled here and there, earning soft hisses and hums from your parted lips.
kiss kiss nibble hiss mmm kiss hum nibble nibble bite kiss suck
he spent about a minute just doing that, leaving warm welts in his mouths wake. “i need these off of you, princess.” once he had kissed his way up to the elastic of your shorts, he snapped it. you nodded and he did the honor of pulling them down and flinging them across the room like he was opening presents on christmas morning. 
he let out an amused scoff as he ran his trembling hand down his face, caught between ecstatic disbelief at the sight of your black lace panties with little black bows adorning the seams. you mentally thanked your past self for slacking on doing laundry and only having your “special occasion” panties left to wear.
“d’you know how pretty you are,” he said. his eyes traced over every inch of you in excitement like you were artwork he stole from the louvre and made out like a bandit with.
his hand disappeared to slickly stroke himself, his mouth watering in anticipation for your taste. his chest heaves as he takes in the sight of you, studying every curve prettily laid out before him; thinking about every position he wants to see you in and every way he wants to please you. without another groan inducing thought, he lunged forward to press a kiss to your lips, his tongue demanding attention. you drink his breath like liquor becoming completely intoxicated by him. he needed this, he needed you.
“need…to taste…you,” he breathed in between kisses. with this mouth obsessed with yours, his hands caress your tits, his thumbing circles on one of the nubs while he’s pinching and pulling on the other. your head falls back and your neck rolls at the sensation, earning profanities from your pretty, swollen lips. your tit misses the hand that he proceeds to run down and up your thigh to locate the spot in your panties you were playing with a moment before. as he parts from your kiss, he’s hooked two fingers under the elastic, pulling those off swiftly.
you yelp when he pushes your torso down. you stare up at the decorative ceiling as he savors you, kissing and massaging your thick thighs. he’s enjoying playing with you as much as possible before allowing himself any pleasure. he wants your juice to cover his face…his neck…his arm…the bed…the floor too when he gets you to pop like a water balloon.
“logan…please, please,” you beg, pawing at his hair. you lift your head to watch the man between your legs taking in the sight and smell of your pretty, wet pussy. even in the dim light, he could see how much you ached for him. he not so secretly got entertainment from watching you lightly buck your hips up to his face and he would’ve let it continue but your pheromones became overwhelming for him; engulfing his head in it’s enchanting aroma.
like fresh pie on a windowsill, he was drawn into you. logan opened wide to swipe one flat tongued lick up your slit. he had one goal — to knock all sense out of you, to fully engulf you in pleasure. he wants you dumb and begging for him to stay right where he is — at the mansion and also all over you. 
logan audibly sucked and popped your clit in and out of his mouth, teasing the most sensitive bit. he’d suck and pop and then lick up your slick, repeating the act. one of his big hands reached up to cup your tit, pinching and twisting and circling. from his hair to the tit he wasn’t playing with, you clawed at whatever would ground you. being eaten by logan felt like floating above the stratosphere.
your wet soaked his beard and it only made him more horny, his cock dripping and throbbing in his fist. tasting you, inhaling you, winning pretty sounds from you, knowing he’s the one making you buck up and fuck his nose only made his appetite for you insatiable. he let go of himself to push his pointer and middle fingers into your needing pussy. you hissed and cursed. the thrill of him devouring you began to reach its peak. his fingers pumped relentlessly into you, curling them to stimulate your g-spot. moans, curses, the gushing of your wet cunt, his sucking and popping and vibrating moans mixed with the rain and thunder grumbling outside filled the dorm like mozart’s symphony no. 25.
he wanted to kiss you, so he did. with his fingers still coaxing an orgasm out of you, he shared the sweet taste. he got back on the bed with you, sliding his free hand under your back to push you up to further to see the mess you were making on the sheets.
“look at how good you’re taking my fingers,” he groaned, inching closer to your ear so you could hear his dirty language loud and clear. “you can come for me, baby.” he peppered a few kisses to your forehead, removing his hand from behind you so he could press it into your stomach. this only heightened the overwhelming wash of pleasure coursing through you.
“lo…logan, i’m-“
“fuck my fingers, baby. use them…oh that’s it…that’s it…i feel that clenching, c’mon you can do it for me. go big baby, make me happy.” his dirty mouth and sporadic clit circling and pumping in and out of you with his tireless wrist pushed you over the edge. you cowered into his neck, pulling on his white tank top and biting the salty skin below his ear as your pussy obeyed, erupting with your juices. out of breath and fucking dumb already, you could feel the wet soak the sheets under your ass.
logan pulled his fingers out of you, landing a light smack on your pussy before licking you clean off of his digits. you fell back on the bed, your arms above your head as you heaved and saw stars.
“‘m not done with you, princess.” he slid off the bed, still delighted by your taste and engulfed in your aroma.
“fuuuck,” you groaned. the pulsing lightning feeling spread throughout both legs as an effect of your rocking orgasm. logan was wicked with his tongue, a devious magician with his fingers and you were his sole audience member wondering about his tricks for sleight of hand.
he quickly tossed his tank, that had tug marks from your attempt to ground yourself, to the side, his muscles flexing under his skin. as he let your post orgasm, cock-dumb brain fog clear, he spit in his hand to fuck his fist. his saliva mixed with the pre-cum leaking from the head, he groaned and sighed heavily at the feeling of giving his dick some sort of relief. you, needy for another hit of him, propped yourself up on your elbows to watch the most delectable creature pleasure himself.
just the sight of him illuminated by candles and flashes of lightning outside as he gets off to how fucked out and dumb you look was enough to have you open up again and play with yourself. the sensitivity from your swollen nub required a delicate touch but your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. his knitted brows relaxed, eyes darting from your pretty face, to your tits, to your fingers rubbing circles where his mouth resided moments ago back to look longingly into your eyes.
“you’re gonna stay,” you said. your hand reached your mouth, your tongue swiping a lick up your middle and ring fingers, wrapping your lips around them to coat them in your saliva. “tell me you’re going to stay for me,” you elaborated. your wet fingers found your aching center.
“there’s no where else i want to be,” he answered. he paced closer to the bed where you laid, his dick basically making eye contact with you as he stopped a few inches away. “you’re mine, you know that?” he noticed your hand slow, “keep going,” he commanded. logan reached out to cup your face, tilting his head to get a look at you obeying his every request. “your face…your mouth…,” his thumb swiped across your lips as he spoke. “your body…your cunt.” he leaned down to kiss your mouth, leaving a string of spit attached to your lower lip. “your laugh…your heart,” he said kindly, his hand massaging your scalp. moans earned from his praise escaped you. “you’re all mine. is that okay with you, baby?”
you’re so bewitched by his aura and his subtle touches make your heart race so fast that you can’t do anything but try to maintain his torrid eye contact and nod.
“use your words, honey.” his thumb returned to the softness of your parted lips.
“i’m yours, logan,” you said, taking his thumb in and closing your lips around it. “if you’ll stay with me, i’ll be yours forever,” you breathed around his thumb, speaking from a mix of eager lust and the terrifying need for him to not to be an asshole, just once.
“i’m not going anywhere…i promise,” he said matter of factly before leaning back down to hungrily devour your kiss. “i need to…fuck you…now,” he cursed in between swallowing moans. 
“do what you want…i’m yours,” you said just clearly audible over the storm rumbling outside. you two shared eye contact so intense that you noticed his dick twitch from your peripheral. you took his dick in your drooling mouth, reaching up to squeeze the base of him. it twitched from the warmth, pressure and tongue swiping rhythmically around his angry, red tip. you kept yourself enveloped around his length, bobbing your head to hit your gag reflex. the added lubrication drove him crazy, his abs twitching under the toned skin of his abdomen. you moaned around him purely from the enjoyment you got out of having him stretch the corners of your mouth, feeling the sting from it. 
logan reached down with both hands to hold your head steady while he sped up thrusting into your throat. your gags and gasps for air, his praise and the storm filled the room beautifully. 
“fuuuck, baby, keep that throat open for me please,” he begged. his hands left their position to find a new one — one supporting his thrusting hips, the other petting your head. “oh, you look so fuckin’ pretty with my cock down your throat…you’re taking me so good, sweetheart.”
he pulled his dick out of your mouth to smack it on your face, complimenting how gorgeous you look. he kissed and licked the mess off of your mouth.
“mm, baby i need to know how good you feel.” with that, he rounded the bed to lay down. “c’mere, baby.” you turned around, crawling on all fours to obey him. his cock in its usual place to be, in his fist, leaks pre-cum in anticipation for you to smother it with your warm, clenching pussy.
“lay down,” he said.
“damn, yes sir,” you say, jokingly annoyed with all of his demands. you lay down next to him, your knees instinctively parting slightly. he lays on his side, resting his hand on your stomach, rubbing his large hand in flat circles.
“d’you know how long i’ve thought about this moment with you?” he asked, leaning in to kiss and suck the skin in the crook of your neck. you lustfully sighed at the sensation of his hot breath. his hand finds its way between your legs again, tickling and tapping at your slit. “i want you to read me the whole time i’m inside…can you do that?”
“are you—“
“yes i’m sure, i feel so fucking good right now and i haven’t even felt you. i want you to feel that and more,” he explains, pulling your chin in to taste the desperation on you.
before he came just from your kiss and rutting against the sheets, he hovered above you. his lips stayed attached to your chest, kissing lower and lower to suck a tit into his mouth, flicking your nipple with his tongue then biting softly on the nub. his hand disappeared from the side of your head to grab hold of his shaft, flicking his tip against your clit. his head dropped as he watched and listened to your slick coating his cock. he quickly swiped up and down your pussy trying to savor every fold and feeling. his brows furrowed, not being able to resist your warmth, he lined himself up with your hole, using his hand to guide just the tip into it.
“oh…fuck,” he groaned in excitement. he pushed in just a little more which caused you to hiss. his head shot up and eyes scanned your face for any sign of regret or unsureness. “are you okay? d’you want to stop?”
“no, baby,” you giggled, lifting your arms rest around his neck, one hand always finding a way into his dark locks. “just been a while…keep going, i’m okay.”
with your permission, he pushed in a little more. he let out a deep groan at the feeling of you stretching to form perfectly around him. you gasped, pressing a hand into his chest, feeling a similar sting to the one you felt in the corners of your mouth earlier. against his want to start thrusting his whole length into you, his went slow, watching your demeanor for cues to keep going.
“you feel…fuck…like it was made for me,” he said which caused the butterflies in you to flutter their wings even faster. “are you okay?” his chest heaved and his breath fanned your face.
“fuck me…please logan,” you said. your hands reached his hips, pushing them down onto you. without wasting another minute, he did. 
he bent your knee more to press it into your chest as his hips repeatedly slammed down hard, his balls smacking your ass. with one hand giving him better access by positioning your leg higher, the other cupped and squeezed your bouncing tit.
“oh my…fucking god,” you moaned. you had let the walls of your mutation down, allowing yourself to be flooded by not only your pleasure…but the love logan feels for you plus the absolute sheer euphoria that he was experiencing deep inside of your pussy. it coursed through your body like a steam engine leaving the station. it had felt like you had been brought to five earth shattering orgasms before the one that was bound to shake you again soon.
“you know you feel so good, look at that fuckin’ fucked out smile. can you feel it? can you feel how good you make me feel, baby? don’t stop readin’ me, princess. it’s all for you,” he praised for you to hear every word.
“holy shit…mm fuckin’…ahh!” your hands couldn’t help but find their way above your head, subconsciously reaching for the bed post for something to ground you again.
“here, baby, hold onto me.” logan grabbed your wandering wrist with his free hand, slapping your hand on his chest which you pressed into as if you were pushing him away. before your cock drunk mind could register what happened, he had flipped the two of you so you were on top. 
logan looked so fucking pretty under you. you took a second to breathe and take in the view before bending your knees to put yourself in a squatting position on his cock. you placed your hands on his heaving chest for support as you started to bounce your ass on him. ‘oh this is so fun’, the thought making you giggle in elation as you drilled down your hips, rocking them back and forth to feel him stimulate the deepest parts of you. his thumb bored into your clit, drawing circles on it. 
as you kept bouncing your wet pussy on him just how he liked, logan lifted his knees up behind you and pushed you back onto them. he moved his hand away from your clit and picked his head up to watch his dick disappear deep inside you. then, he spit. his saliva landed on your pussy and stomach. he went back to stimulating you, fully realizing how much that turned you on from the tight clench around him and the extra juice running down his ass onto the sheets under you two.
he, still playing with your clit, summoned your face closer to his with the middle and ring fingers on the other hand. once closer, he grabbed your neck to kiss your fiercely. 
“you’re my good girl, huh?”
‘mhmm’ was all you could muster with his hand around your throat and his hips still ramming his cock into your stretched out hole.
“use those words for me, baby. are…mm, fuck…you my good girl?”
“ye…sss, baby i’m your…good…oh my fucking…girl!!”
“open your mouth.” he fucking spit in it. you moaned tasting him again and feeling it on your face. “good…fuckin’ girl,” he complimented, kissing you and then squeezing your cheeks to spit on your tongue again. 
your body started to go limp and your eyes were practically glued together. you could feel the searing hot orgasm burning up inside. you could feel logan in a way that you never thought possible. everything. 
his love, his passion, his longing, his fear, his anxiety, his lust, his heart…everything was yours in this moment. high on his feelings, you let your head fall back coming undone on top of him.
“oh you’re so pretty…that’s pretty, baby, keep…fuck…use me, it’s all for you.” his words took you further and further into ecstasy. it was a really good fucking trip that you never wanted to end. the pain of his cock fucking you out and his grip clutching your skin like he’d fall off earth without doing so made you moan so intensely that not even the thunder outside could compete.
he could tell you were a few fucks away from collapsing but so was he. 
“baby…you keep clenching around me like that…i’m gonna fuckin’ fill you,” he said. you kept bouncing on it, wanting him to even feel a fraction of how he just made you feel. he closed his eyes trying to last as long as possible in the heaven that he found in you. his thumbs bore into your hips as he used them to ground himself.
“i want it, baby…fill your good girl up.” you leaned down to speak into his ear and then carry on kissing his neck, letting him claim your moans as trophies. 
“fuuuuck…fuuuck,” he moaned as his thrusting became sloppy and you weren’t bouncing as much anymore. his abs twitched again along with his face. 
SNIKT!!
you hissed at the cool metal of his claws against your skin and the feel of him throbbing severely inside you as he let himself paint your walls. you thanked him in pleased moans before falling on his chest. still semi-hard inside, he kissed the top of your head to which you looked up and he gave you a proper kiss. he let himself twitch out a few more dribbles of cum inside you before pulling his claws back in to carefully rub your back.
a few beats of silence went by as you listened to each others hastened breaths and the rain tapping the glass. 
“…i love you, logan.”
“i think you know how much i love you, baby,” he said, smugly remembering how you looked coming on his dick, further escalated by his letting you read him.
you two snuggled naked under the covers and as you laid on his chest and listened to his light snoring, you read him again. 
ease and silence…and love.
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My sister rang me today.
Ever since she was six, she's had pain in her legs, which turns into pain in her hips and back for stretches of time. She's tried for years to get a diagnosis, with absolutely no joy. As a kid they thought she had collapsed arches in her feet; then it became clear her feet were fine, but something was wrong with her tendons; and then in her 20s they just shrugged it off with a "We'll never know probably" and that was that. She keeps on top of it with daily yoga, generally, though flare ups happen periodically. If she has to pause the yoga for some reason, she fairly rapidly regresses. Currently she has plantar fascitis again, which has halted everything once more, so right now she's back into a pain slump.
Anyway, she called me today while going from Doctors to pharmacy to get the codeine they've prescribed her for it.
"I think one of my yoga moves to help the fascitis might have exacerbated the legs," she said. "Trouble is, there's never been a diagnosis. I just have to trial and error what might help."
... And I had one of those lightbulb moments, you know? My brain suddenly went "Wait hang on, this is very familiar isn't it?" and rang the bells of memory.
"Did they ever test you for fibromyalgia?" I said.
They had not. It's never been suggested, even. My sister said she'd look up the symptoms and see if it chimed, and rang off.
Fifteen minutes later, she calls back.
Turns out she got to the pharmacy and gave them the prescription. While waiting, she googled fibromyalgia symptoms and found the NHS website.
"It was like someone had written a profile of me," she tells me on the phone. "Like, spookily, scarily accurate to me, right down to the temperature regulation bit. It felt like a practical joke."
And of course, as she stood there in the pharmacy, suddenly staring at the age of forty at the apparent answer she's been trying to get since she was six years old, she burst into tears.
"Oh no!" Said the pharmacist, hurdling the counter in a single leap and scattering the queue (I am exaggerating for humorous affectation.) "Quickly! Come into our little exam room, we'll get you tissues and water!"
My sister was duly ensconced into a Safe Place, and encouraged to cry it out. It took several hiccuping minutes, but finally, she managed to calm down and get back to an Extremely Watery Smile.
"Do you want to talk about it?" the pharmacist asked sympathetically.
"It's just..." my sister said, overwhelmed and searching for words. "My whole life I've been in pain, and they've never found why..."
"Ah," said the pharmacist thoughtfully. "Have you explored fibromyalgia?"
...
"TWICE IN ONE DAY," my sister yells on the phone to me later. "HOW THE HELL HAVE TWO SEPARATE PEOPLE ON THE SAME DAY FINALLY GIVEN ME THE ANSWER, AND NEITHER OF YOU IS A DOCTOR"
Anyway she has a doctor's appointment for tomorrow to discuss it, so we'll see
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sweetnans · 2 months
Text
Chaotic fem. reader/Best friend Bakugo
"I'm ready to be a mother," you stated out of nothing.
Bakugo was obviously taken back by your comment.
"Did you see something on tiktok that made you think that?" he looked at you while you kept scrolling in your phone. "You need a partner to procreate dumbass,"
"I know I need a man to procreate, but I thought that you could help me on that one," you bit your nails, showing less interest than a rock.
He left his phone aside so he could analyze you properly if you were talking seriously or not.
"I'm not going to introduce you to my side kick, He's like twenty," he tested.
"Twenty??? I'm almost twenty eight, that's still a reasonable age gap, " you gasped because his side kick didn't look like he was twenty. You thought that he would at least be twenty-three.
"No it's not"
After almost ten years of being friends, Bakugo was so used to your shit. The time that you wanted to go surfing? He laughed at your face when you didn't make it to the ocean because you were afraid of sharks. What about the time when you wanted a hamster? He said no, but you got it anyway, so when you lost it, obviously, he gave you shit about it, but after that, he was on all four looking for your little pet in the dorms.
"Fine." That wasn't your main goal, so you let it go. "Actually, I was thinking of you doing a quick hand job in my bathroom and giving me your sperm"
The silence between the two of you couldn't be more unbearable. Bakugo's eyes twisted in your direction while his cheeks were slowly growing a clear shade of rose.
"What? No!"
He was absolutely losing it. The impact of your sayings got him standing from his seat, almost panting. You and him? In his best dreams, but you didn't need to know about his secret intentions.
"Think about it. It's a great idea." You stepped out of your couch and went to his side.
"How are you going to explain that your kid has similar features with your best friend?" he flinched when you approached him. You were so close that your scent invaded him whole.
Bakugo was trying with all his heart and mind to think logically, but you, your body next to him, and your puppy eyes were making it so hard, in both ways.
"I don't know, and I don't care, I'll run away from the country, and you'll never see us again"
You were one of the best students from UA, right after him and Yaoyorozu, but right now, he was doubting if it was just an act.
"That's so clever." he rolled his eyes at you and walked to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, hoping that you would drop the subject and hop onto another like getting a bunny or going sky diving.
"I know, right? Now go in there, do the nasty job, and I'll put it inside of me, I'll even turn my body upside down so it sticks, " you jolted in joy, missing his usual sarcasm.
He almost spilled the water from his mouth to your face.
"Who the fuck told you that?" he spated obnoxiously.
"Kaminari," you shrugged.
"Are you even listening to yourself!?"
When he thought that that couldn't get any worse, you named the only person who could make him go crazy just by opening his mouth.
"I'm desperate. It made sense when he told me"
He could believe anything at this point. He was actually thinking that he was dead because what was happening between you two was a complete nonsense.
"So you are telling me this is something you've had in mind for a while?
You simply nodded, and he stayed quiet, considering everything you said. He wasn't looking for anything serious because of you. He passed for all seven stages of grief when he realized that he was in love with you and your silliness, so he decided long ago that he wouldn't date anyone because he wasn't interested in anyone but you.
"I know that look on your face," you smiled and danced around the kitchen.
You weren't looking for anyone either. Having Bakugo as a male figure in your life left the bar very high for others to match. They didn't meet your expectations anymore like Bakugo did, always by your side, laughing at your bad jokes and giving you his hand when you most needed, buying food and cooking for you, he has even bought you flowers for half a decade on valentine's day, a large bouquet of red roses every year since then.
"I'll do it," he told you, and you jumped excited on him. He grabbed you by your thighs, catching you on the fly. "Two conditions"
"Yeah, just name it," you batted your eyes at him.
"I'll take you on a proper date first, and you won't run away with my kid, got it?"
Bakugo thought that he was only doing you a favor, but he never saw coming that it only took one date to make you fall for him in the way he always wanted.
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chuluoyi · 3 months
Text
࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 05:56 P.M 」
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this has been rotting in my drafts for like months :'D based on a suggestion idea a while back—how gojo will definitely land himself in a police station, and since i have no better fic to share yet, i'll just post this :')
a part of gojo's love entries
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everyone—or particularly, nanami—has warned you that marrying gojo satoru is going to be far from easy.
and true, less than a month since the two of you were married, he had landed himself in a police station. police station! of all places!
still, you were worried when you got the call, but when you rushed inside the place, all your worries—
“i’m telling you! i’m innocent!”
“sir, please don’t raise your voice here!”
“YOU are raising your voice against me!”
—evaporated. because… what the hell?
satoru, looking cross as if he owned the whole precinct, sat with his legs crossed high. he wore all black and his eyes was covered by that stupid blindfold. and with that haughty attitude, if someone accused him of being a suspicious person, now you would totally understand.
you were fuming as you stomped to where he was. “satoru!”
“oh?!” he turned to you with a wide grin, then to the officer in front of him, pointing at you. “look! i’ve been telling you. i have a wife— and there she is!”
the officer eyed you suspiciously as if he wanted to confirm your identity, and you huffed. “it pains me to admit that i’m his wife—”
“wha?! it ‘pains’ you?! i’m hurt!”
“—but yes, i am. officer, what do i have to do to get him out here?”
you could’ve sworn the officer gave you a look of pity. “ma’am, so we received a report that your… err, husband, was publicly harassing two students—”
you widened your eyes, turning to him accusingly. “you—!”
“i was not!” satoru fiercely interrupted, eyeing the police with clear disdain. “if i want to harass girls, shouldn’t i harass my wife first?!”
you were speechless as you shot him a look of disbelief.
“but sir, the girls said that you have been ‘leering’ at them—”
“i was just passing by! i didn’t even look at them! and when i have a wife this hot—” satoru wildly gestured at you with both hands. “what use is anything else?!”
dear lord. please give me strength. you felt like losing your head over this as you clutched your temple.
“sir, you’re being too loud!”
“i’m telling you, you’re slandering me! that’s crime too!”
this was utter chaos and you finally had enough. “both of you, just...” you breathed out— “shut up!”
both the police and your husband looked at you in surprise as you glared at them with so much ire they would have never expected out of you.
in the end, to settle this fiasco, you ended up paying the fine.
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“wifey... forgive me, please?”
satoru dejectedly followed you from behind like a sad puppy as you entered your home. “please? don’t be mad at me...”
you suddenly stopped in your tracks, before whirling to face him, squinting one eye. “you got arrested, made a fool out of yourself, and i bailed you out. so, give me three good reasons why i shouldn’t be mad at you.”
“uh, w-wait...”
“three, two—”
“i-i’m a good kisser! i let you have my body!” he blurted in panic. “and oh—while at it, i also satisfy you sooo well in bed!”
how did you end up with a clown for a husband? despite yourself, you almost laughed at his response, and satoru obviously saw it as a sign of him succeeding. and before you knew it, he leaned and pecked you in the lips.
“look at you, you just smiled!” he giddily grinned as he pulled away. “i’m right, aren’t i!?”
“ha ha...” you let out an exasperated sigh, suppressing your laugh and faint heat in your face at the same time. “satoru...”
his eyes were practically shining. “yes?!”
“you and couch. tonight.”
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yanderenightmare · 3 months
Text
Gojo Satoru
TW: implied noncon, yandere
fem reader
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The way Gojo Senpai is so obnoxious, he doesn’t understand his flirting is making you uncomfortable…
He seriously thinks he’s making you fall head over heels in love with him even when you give him nothing in return to make him think that. He just thinks you’re embarrassed and nervous, flustered by his attention, and that’s the reason you divert your gaze and bite your lip when he has you against the lockers, leaning on his hand with his shades gliding low on his nose—telling you that you have no shot becoming a sorcerer, but that you look too cute in the uniform not to give it your best try. 
“Don’t worry, just say my name, and I’ll come save you,” he’ll say. “You can be my personal assistant supervisor instead.” 
His game isn’t anything to brag about. It's more in line with bullying than flirting, but you pick up on the suggestiveness. That heated saccharine look within his blue eyes can only mean one thing if the way he plays with your hair isn’t enough of a hint already.
But his words are nothing short of derogatory, and all in all, he simply makes you feel gross—a sentiment you thought you put across, but it seems that having six eyes only makes you blind.
It takes Shoko telling him to leave the poor Kohai alone for him to finally understand that you don’t like him. And then he’s just confused and embarrassed.
And a tinge bit irritated.
Gojo knows for a fact he could make any girl want him. Even those who seem to hate him would melt if he gave them the same attention he’s been giving you. Any girl. He could have any girl, but he chose you. And you reject him?
No. He can’t accept that.
“Most girls would be grateful for my attention,” He states plainly after having tracked you down.
Your head snapped, jolting. “Gojo Senpai—” You dropped the mop in your hands with a clatter, having been deep in your own thoughts on classroom cleaning duty. You sighed as the scare settled, giving a breathy laugh, “You scared me—”
“Is that it?” he interrupted. “I scare you?”
You quirked a brow with a tilt of your head. “What?”
“Do I scare you?” he repeated, louder, posted on the threshold in a stance you’d never seen him in—stiff and squared, not his usual lazy laidbackness.
Confused, your eyes looked around as if searching for clues but came up emptyhanded, “Uhm, I don’t understand—”
“It’s a simple question,” he said, cutting you off again, this time with a step into the classroom. He talked slowly, cradling the next words, “Are you scared of me?”
Where it all came from, you hadn’t a clue. But then again, Gojo Senpai has always been rather strange. 
Were you scared of him? It’s not really something you’ve ever thought about. Sure, if you were to go one versus one with him, you’d probably piss yourself. But in a regular setting, you just found him to be as grating as the next person.
“I don’t think so?” you end up answering.
“Good. So what is it then?” His shades were low enough for his stare to skim over. Brighter than clear skies, and yet, somehow, so dark. “Why don’t you like me.”
Oh, so he’s figured it out on his own then. It’s about time. And thank fuck for it—saves you the trouble of breaking it to him yourself. Though you were still left with the unfair task of telling him why.
“Honestly, Gojo Senpai, I’m not, or well… you’re just not my type.”
Stick to the basics, is what you told yourself. There’s no need to drag this out.
“Yeah, I figured. I’m asking why,” he countered, in complete disagreement with your thought.
Still, you wanted to fight for it. “Does it really matter?”
“Yes.”
This conversation was the last thing you wanted, but it seemed the white-haired prodigy wouldn’t leave without having it.
“Well…” you started, still pondering. Maybe he’d appreciate the honesty? He’s a rather straightforward guy himself. “I mean, there’s no way you don’t already know this, but—” You picked up the broom again mid-sentence. “You’re really obnoxious.”
He took a small second before he scoffed, “So? No one else cares.”
It reminded you of arguing with someone half your age—the petty anger in an ill-thought-through comment slung at you as if it carried all the weight in the world. But what everyone else thought of him hadn’t anything to do with you—and even so, out of the people on campus, you’re certain you’re not the only one who finds his attitude unpleasant—they just don’t tell it to his face. 
You had half the mind to tell him to go get a grip, but he was still your Senpai.
“Good for you, I guess?” You weren’t really looking to fight with him, after all. “So you can flirt with literally anyone else then,” you dismiss him and go back to finish cleaning the classroom—glad to have put it all behind you. You were starting to fear he’d never leave you alone.
There’s a woosh, then the hard thunk of your back hitting the wall. Both your upper arms are gripped tight, pinned. When you open your eyes again after adjusting to the impact, you look straight up into the full view of two crisp comet blues.
“You’re mighty rude for a Kohai. You know that?”
Your head stings. You blink crookedly.
“Senpai—”
“Maybe I’ve misjudged you. D’you have anythin’ for show to back that attitude up?” It’s eerie how he says it in the same flirty fashion he would otherwise—even the look in his eyes are the same. But his grip tightens.
“I don’t want to fight—”
“No?” he cuts you off with a pout. “I could've sworn you were asking for it—all but begging for it a second ago.”
You whimper, cowering at the sudden bite in his voice.
“What’s the matter, huh? I thought you said you weren’t scared?”
Your voice comes out weak, “Please, Gojo Senpai, I—”
“Please?” he questions brightly, eyes stark and burning like a stovetop. “Yeah, that’s got a nicer ring to it—suits you better.” The smile that splits across his face is nothing short of unhinged. “But it’s not enough for me to let your disrespect slide.” He licks his lips, and a chill runs up your spine, feeling like caught prey. “Lucky you, I know exactly what price to put on it.”
His mouth devour yours the same way—pouncing like a beast would, with teeth more than lips, then a tongue. You whine as you twist—it’s more instinctive than deliberate when your knee shoots up into the unprotected space between his legs—right into that thing that was rubbing and rutting against you.
You make a run for it as he staggers back with a hiss, but you don’t make it farther than three measly steps before you’re bent over the closest desk.
His fist wrangles your hair, using it to shove you face-down against the wood—the weight of his body on top of your back with his voice raspy against your ear. “We could’ve left this with a kiss, but I don’t think it’s gonna be that easy now.”
Tears spill hotly in a panic, but no matter how much strength you put into lifting yourself up, you remain down. Sobbing, “Let go—help—”
He snickers with a hand under your skirt, spidering delicately up your thigh. “Who’re you callin’ for help, hm? I’m already here.”
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♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist
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strzlun · 2 months
Text
TRAP
// park sunghoon //
pairing: player!sunghoon x quiet!femreader
word count- 3.6k
genre/cws- fluff, slight angst, falling in love, confessions, he fell first and harder, sunghoon grows a soft spot for reader, sunghoon becomes a changed man, reader is done with sunghoon
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summary-Sunghoon didn’t realize he fell into his own trap until it was too late and he was falling in love
________________________________________________________
Sunghoon and you were the picture perfect polar opposites. He had people lined up trying to fulfill their deep desire of even getting a sliver of a chance with him.
And he thrived in this. He knew the sheer power he held so he always used it to his advantage. Everyone knew Park Sunghoon’s name like a chant and you never understood why people would crumble to his feet.
He lived a world that you wished to never get involved with.
Yet what made your world slow down is hearing his name called alongside yours.
Before you could even register what was happening, you could hear the painful drag of the chair next to you as you slowly turn to be met with the one and only, Park Sunghoon.
The infamous smile plastered on his face as his body was faced towards you. He had this demeanor that you were undeniably drawn to but forced yourself out of that daze.
“Guess we’re partners” The moment he spoke, all eyes were on you
You awkwardly nodded your head as you tried to ignore the stares burning into your entire existence and focus in front of you.
You knew there were people that would kill to be in your spot, and truthfully speaking you had no problem switching.
When Sunghoon who was waiting for some type of reaction from you received nothing, he raised an eyebrow, confused but assumed you were simply trying to comprehend how he was in front of you.
“No need to freak out or anything, it’s really me-“ Before he could even finish he sentence you raised a hand to stop him
Normally, you wouldn’t waste time even speaking to people like Sunghoon. There was no point, neither ever crossed paths before nor have you even acknowledged each other’s existence.
But now you had to bear with him until the end of the project if you wanted a good grade.
When you gave no response after shutting Sunghoon up, he could feel the embarrassment rising which was rare (a big lie).
“I look forward to working with you. I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about you” He tried to catch your attention as you seemed to focus on the lesson rather than on him
He gave a slight frown but wiped it off before having a smirk plaster onto his face. He could feel the excitement coursing through his mind and he knew exactly what it meant.
When the lesson was done, he turned expecting to see you beside him but to his shock you were already out of the classroom. He grumbled and quickly went after you.
What you thought was finally peace and no lurking eyes on you turned to ruckus around you when Sunghoon suddenly appeared next to you.
His mouth whispered right into your ear and you immediately jerked yourself away in confusion. He gave a warm smile and grabbed your bag from you to hold it.
“You walk so fast, it was hard to catch up to you” He joked and the look you gave him must’ve shown your discomfort because he awkwardly cleared his throat
You tried to grab your bag from him but before you could reach it, he moved his body and you almost lost your balance.
He was quick to catch you to make sure you didn’t fall (you were never going to fall in the first place).
You stared at him as he gave another smile but you quickly pushed him away and grabbed your bag from him before huffing out a sigh and walking away.
Of course you knew who Park Sunghoon is, but that also meant you knew the reputation surrounding him. He had people lined up for him for a reason and you weren’t going to allow yourself to fall for his trap.
As you were walking you were going to pull out your phone from your bag, but the moment you did a piece of paper fell out as well.
You tilted your head confused before reaching to pick it up soon your mouth was agape when you saw the written phone number on it.
‘My number -p.sh’
Now you didn’t want to text Sunghoon, especially with the way that he had given his number. It felt like he was treating you as someone who simply wanted to get the attention of being involved with him.
You knew deep down that was far from the truth but you had to swallow your pride for a moment as you typed his number in for a contact.
Sunghoon was in bed, lazily resting an arm over his eyes as he could feel the drowsiness take over. But right when he was going to shut his eyes, his phone pinged from a notification.
Normally, he would ignore it and deal with it whenever he had the energy to but something in him told him to check it.
He groaned before grabbing his phone seeing just who decided to text him so late at night.
He saw an unsaved number but the message attached to it made him shoot up from his bed with a slight smirk forming on his face.
: Let’s meet tomorrow to start the project
“Over here!” Sunghoon waved once he saw you, the people passing gave a weird look to him before going their way
You observed how he never truly cared about the public’s opinion on him. He knew that there would be people that praise him and people that despise him, nothing you could do about it.
But now that you were assigned a project with him you knew from the very start what it came with. You didn’t enjoy being the center of attention and having him lingering around you was quite troublesome.
“How was your morning?” He asked sweetly but you believed you saw right through it and simply ignored his question
He was taken aback from the lack of response but he nodded his head, realizing that it would take a lot more for him to slither his way into your heart.
“Let’s head in shall we?” Sunghoon opened the door for you and with the faintest ‘thank you’, he was already grinning like an idiot
He was sure that you would get caught up by him soon or later, it was only a matter of strategic timing and planning to get the job done.
“So what’s your favorite movie?” Sunghoon tried to garner your attention but you didn’t give him any, he sighed heavily after being rejected for the twentieth time
He was growing tiresome trying to get your attention on something that wasn’t something for the project.
“Uhm so what’s your favorite-“
“I heard you the first time, I am just choosing to ignore you” You finally put your pen down before looking at him which caught him off guard
He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, not expecting that (or any) reaction. The two stared at each other for a moment and for the first time ever, Sunghoon was the one to shift his gaze away.
“Let’s continue working” You softly said before picking up your pen again but as he tried to recover from the lost of the staring contest he sighed heavily
“Why don’t we take a break for now, my hand hurts from all the writing” You glanced over to Sunghoon’s paper, only to see he had only written his name on it
You glared towards him and he gave a cheeky smile which he thought would make you smile at least but nothing. You kept your stoic expression, unamused by his attempt to make you smile (you found it humorous that he failed instead).
“Is this why you’re failing the class?” Sunghoon choked on air and coughed loudly hearing your response
“How do you know that?” Sunghoon loudly whispered as he looked around making sure no one heard your remark
“You always complain about your grade in class” You stated and he sighed before embarrassingly looking away but suddenly an idea popped in his head
“So you’re paying attention to me?” He raised an eyebrow to you teasingly
“It’s hard not to when you’re so loud about it” Sunghoon’s world alongside his ego shattered hearing your rebuttal to his attempt to tease you
This is not how he planned this day to go.
Sunghoon cleared his throat loudly before picking up his pen and taking glances at his laptop before writing on the piece of paper, wishing to simply disintegrate into the universe.
You noticed his reaction and you were glad he was working but you felt bad, you didn’t mean to come off as rude, it’s just what you observed from him.
You itched to apologize, your mouth opening every now and then but nothing came out. You sighed before continuing to write on your paper, an awkward silence resting over the two of you.
“I’ll walk you home” You didn’t expect for Sunghoon to offer this especially when the rest of the evening was pure silence between the two of you
You were going to deny Sunghoon’s offer but he was quick to gather your bag along with his.
Another thing that you observed about Sunghoon was that he was stubborn but troublesome for him you were also stubborn.
“It’s okay I can make it home by myself” You tried to grab your bag from him but he was already walking away with it
If this is what Sunghoon thought could win you over, he is mistaken. You sighed annoyed but decided to not put up a fight, you were tired and just wanted to get home as quickly as possible.
As you and Sunghoon were walking to your place he tried to make small talk with you. You wanted to walk in silence but he was determined to have a decent conversation with you.
The talks were brief but you realized that there a slight shift in Sunghoon’s demeanor. It was more relaxed and gentle and maybe even a little genuine. A side you’ve never seen before from him.
But you reminded yourself this could easily be one of his antics to have you wrapped in his fingers. But before you knew it, you were already at your front doorstep.
“Thank you for walking me home” Sunghoon easily waved it off as nothing
“Also I’m sorry if what I said earlier come off as rude, it wasn’t my intention”
“Goodnight” After you finally apologized, you entered your place and closed the door behind you before he could even respond
Sunghoon stood surprised for a moment before softly letting out a genuine chuckle.
You heard a ping from your phone and when you looked at it, you found yourself letting out the smallest smile ever.
Sunghoon: It’s okay you weren’t wrong. Goodnight to you as well
From when you stepped foot onto campus, all eyes were on you again. You tried to remind yourself that this was only temporarily and soon you could go back to your old lifestyle without Sunghoon in your life.
But that moment wasn’t now because you suddenly felt a poke to your head and when you turned, you were met with Sunghoon’s cheeky smile.
“Let’s walk together” He hummed, you sighed realizing that he really wasn’t going down without a fight so you weren’t going to put up one
You nodded your head as you waited for him to catch up to you. Sunghoon smiled realizing that you’re starting to warm up to him even if it is a tiny bit.
You: Where are you?
You: We said we were meeting today to finish
You sighed as time passed by and there was no sign of Sunghoon. You scoffed to yourself realizing he left you stranded.
What did you expect, he probably left all the work for you to ensure that he can pass. You scoffed as you placed your head into yours hands before groaning loudly.
Having to do the project by yourself wasn’t something foreign to you, but you were still annoyed.
You had to pick up on his slack. You weren’t going to allow someone like Sunghoon to taint your grade because of careless actions.
You were disappointed would be an understatement. You assumed the least he could do is give you a heads up if he isn’t able to make it, but it seemed you hoped too much for the impossible.
Hours passed by and you were still engrossed in the project trying to complete it, you could feel the pure exhaustion catching up but you needed to push through.
“Bye Sunghoon” The teasing tone had a faint smirk form on Sunghoon’s face whilst waving goodbye
He pulled out his phone and saw the time, 3 am, he sighed knowing he was going to get a good nights rest the moment he landed on his bed.
He placed his phone back into his pocket and right when he turned, there he saw you through a window.
You were yet to see him but he saw how you yawned and tiredly rested your head on your arm as a pillow and closed your eyes.
That’s when it finally clicked in Sunghoon’s mind. He was supposed to meet up with you today to finish the project. He cursed at himself before entering the place you were in.
He quickly made his way over to you but you were already fast asleep. He saw your laptop open with paper scattered around.
He got too distracted that he forgot he was meeting up with you today and he knew all efforts of trying to get you warming up to him now went out the window.
He wasn’t one to care about how people perceived him but you must’ve thought he’s even more of a jerk than what you already thought he was.
Sunghoon made sure to be quiet to not disturb your sleep as he carefully sat next to you before grabbing your laptop.
He scrolled and saw that you were practically almost done with the project. The guilt that rested in stomach grew even more and began to eat him up, you picked up his slack because of his ignorance.
Sunghoon knew you wouldn’t easily forgive him and he doesn’t blame you. But the least he could do is let you sleep while he takes care of the rest.
He carefully draped his jacket over you as he noticed you were directly under an air vent. He looked for a split second longer than what he wanted to, you looked so peaceful when sleeping.
He found a faint smile growing but stopped to bring himself back to focus on finishing the project.
He grabbed a spare sticky note and a few moments later placed it next to your mousepad, before starting to type into your laptop.
Your eyes fluttered opened as you could feel a bright light hitting your face. You used your hand to cover the sunlight but noticed a jacket draped over you and you froze.
You hazily looked around and you jumped when you noticed Sunghoon asleep next to you with your laptop in front of him. You quickly grabbed your laptop to see what he had done but to your surprise you saw the project was completely finished and revised.
You don’t know when you fell asleep, let alone when he even arrived so you were shocked to wake up next to him.
You were pleased that at least the project was done, however your gaze soon caught the sticky note stuck near your mousepad.
‘I know this is the weakest way to apologize, but I am really sorry for leaving you hanging.
Rest well, I’ll take care of everything else’
You shifted your gaze onto Sunghoon but what you didn’t expect was for him to be looking at you back. Normally you would’ve reverted your eyes away but you were in some trance, an extra flutter in your heart made you realize you were falling.
But you weren’t the only one. With the sunrise setting upon you and the look you were giving him, Sunghoon found himself in utter awe of you as his heart fluttered against his chest.
That was something new.
Now Sunghoonn was wide awake in bed with you haunting his mind, he doesn’t get it. The project was long done and no matter how much he tried to distract himself, he always found his mind drifting off to you.
He didn’t have a guilty conscience anymore, you made it very clear that you had forgiven him (after much apologies) so why could he only think about you.
You and him would even text quite often (he’s the one always texting first) but even still that wasn’t enough to quench his unexplainable desire.
He doesn’t know what was taking over him, it was like he’s flipped. He was leaving his old habits behind, deciding to hit the gym more often, barely going out the way he used to, he even started to pay attention in lessons and participate in activities.
And anytime he did anything, he felt an urge to text you and let you know what he has been up to. There were times where he did text you but then there were times when he held back.
Tonight was not one of those nights, he decided to give in to the burning desire that desperately needed to get extinguished.
Sunghoon: You awake?
He impatiently watched, hoping for your response and he immediately piked when his phone pinged.
You: Why?
Sunghoon found himself smiling dumbfounded at your message, in that moment his smile slightly faltered as the realization hit him like a bucket of cold water.
Now he finally realized what the desire that burns in him meant.
Now you didn’t expect to see Sunghoon at your front doorstep, especially to catch him mid pep talk. He froze when he heard your door open and the two stared at each other for a moment before he straightened out his posture.
He awkwardly coughed at the silence, all thoughts and rationality he prepared went out the window as he just stared at you with wide eyes.
“Uh what are you doing here?” You asked him and his mind immediately went on overdrive
He continued to stay silent and stare at you. You looked around for a moment before softly nodding your head.
“Do you want to-“ Before you could even finish, Sunghoon easily cut you off
“I like you” That was more straightforward than he intended to say but he’s never confessed before, he’s new to this
You stared at Sunghoon flustered with his sudden confession, does he actually like you or is he toying with your feelings until he gets bored and moves on.
“I know this is out of nowhere and you have every right to question my intentions” He was aware of the reputation he made for himself but he was really praying it doesn’t affect him now
“But I promise you wholeheartedly that I am genuine about my words and my feelings, I really do like you”
“I’m not sure when I started to like you, but you started to consume every crevice in my mind. Everything that I did, I wondered what you would say about it”
“It was actually driving me insane because I never and I mean it ever felt that way before and I can’t lie I was nervous at first”
“I thought you would’ve brush me off after the project, that’s why I kept texting you. Something in me needed to know if there could be a possible us”
“This burning desire wouldn’t let me go from its grasp and the only way I figured to subside it was to tell you how I truly felt” Sunghoon finished his small rant and let out a heavy pant before nervously looking to see your reaction
You stared at him wide eyed as you proceed the information. The pounding of your heart clearly indicated something and you knew that very well.
With each passing second of no response from you, the more it kills him slowly.
“You like me?” Your voice was soft and this melted right through Sunghoon, how he underestimated the hold you had on him
He softly nodded his head and your heart finally exploded. All the times when your fingers fidgeted over your keyboard wanting to text him and he somehow read your mind and texted you first.
But there was a thought lingering at the back of your head. What if he was just saying this to get you to fall into the trap you couldn’t escape from.
“How come you didn’t fall for someone else?” It was too late for your mind to register that you accidentally voiced out your thought
You stumbled over your words trying to take back what you said and Sunghoon found it amusing, he made his way over to you. The loopy smile he had as he brought his mouth to your ear, his breath feathered over your ear making your body shiver.
“Because I am too busy being yours” Sunghoon whispered and those words sent a shock throughout your whole body
“Is this you crawling to me Sunghoon?” You teased and he chuckled at you response but nodded his head before facing back to you
“If you allow me, I’ll crawl back to you as many times as I have to in order to prove my feelings to you”
“Never thought, I would be the one to hear those words from you”
“Special words for a special person” Your smile began to grow and you couldn’t hold it back any longer
Seeing your smile made Sunghoon weak in his knees that he knew he had to make you smile every single day. You had Park Sunghoon wrapped around your fingers and neither expected the tables to turn.
The trap that Sunghoon had intended to have you fall into now consumed him instead of you. But truthfully speaking, he didn’t mind it because deep down he unconsciously knew he was yours from the start.
“Will you allow me take you out on a date? Promise I’ll be there maybe even before you”
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hoshifighting · 1 month
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Nerd!Seungcheol
— Synopsis: After finding Nerdy!Seungcheol crying in the corner of the locker room because his girlfriend broke up with him to be with a jock after joining in the cheerleading team, you decide to help him and do everything he wished his ex-girlfriend had done. — WC: 6.6k — WARNINGS: smut, fluff, crack, some bickering—slight enemies2lovers plot, he cries, seungcheol is not a virgin (but his ex never gave him blowjob), mentions of alcohol (beer), mentions of glow-up, reader uses short dress and mentions short skirt, oral (f. & m. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, cock riding, answering phone in the middle of the sex—voyeur?, hickeys, body fluids (cum) and cringey mentions of hands mimics (fingering/blowjob).
As you head to the dressing room to grab your things after your Friday lonely practice, the usual silence from the night is broken by a faint, muffled sound. You pause, listening intently. It’s a sniffling noise, followed by broken pants. Curiosity piqued, you follow the sound deeper into the lockers, your footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor.
Turning the corner, you find Seungcheol, huddled in a corner, hugging his knees to his chest. 
“Seungcheol? What are you doing here?” you ask, a smirk tugging at your lips. Teasing him is practically second nature to you.
His head snaps up, eyes wide and red-rimmed. “What do you want?” he snaps back, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.
You place a hand on your waist, raising an eyebrow. “I think the better question is, why are you in the women’s locker room?”
His eyes widen in realization. “Seriously?” he mutters, scrambling to his feet, the embarrassment clear on his tear-streaked face.
You roll your eyes and turn to leave. 
You wait just outside, leaning against the wall with your phone, scrolling through messages, pretending not to notice the state he’s in.
A few moments later, Seungcheol emerges, his face still blotchy from crying but now trying to pull himself together. He dries his tears on his sweatshirt, still hiccuping softly.
“Spill it,” you say, not looking up from your phone. “What happened?”
He hesitates, but he knows that on Monday, everyone will know about it. “Minji broke up with me,” he admits, his voice cracking. “She’s dating Jaehyun from the basketball team now.”
It’s a stereotype for a reason. “And you didn’t see that coming?”
Seungcheol’s face crumples again, and you immediately regret your harsh words.
But you can't help it! Jaehyun is the quintessential jock, the kind of guy who always ends up dating cheerleaders. It’s almost cliché.
Seungcheol nods continuing, looking down at his feet. “I knew she wanted more popularity, but I didn’t think she’d...”
“Look, Seungcheol, she’s not worth it if she’s willing to dump you for some jock just to boost her social status.” You shrug as you walk toward the hallway exit.
He looks up at you, eyes filled with confusion. “Why are you being nice to me?”
You shrug, slipping your phone into your bag. “I can’t let you mope around like this. It’s pathetic.”
He manages a weak smile at that. “Thanks, I guess.”
“Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll walk you back to your dorm,” you say, starting to walk again.
You leave Seungcheol at his dorm, giving him a final glance. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you need to toughen up.” 
The weekend passes in a blur of volleyball practice and social events. You don’t see Seungcheol at all, not even a glimpse. Sunday night, you find yourself at a party, scanning the crowded room. There she is—Minji, with Jaehyun, surrounded by people. They look like the picture-perfect couple, a stark contrast to the image of Seungcheol crying in the women’s locker room just two nights ago.
After the party, you head to the convenience store near the university dorms to grab a late-night snack before heading to bed. As you wander down the ramen aisle, you almost bump into someone. You look up and see Seungcheol, his face so fucking swollen and hidden under a hood.
“What the fuck happened to your face?” you whisper, startled, clutching your snacks.
He scoffs, “What do you think? Been crying all weekend.”
You furrow your brows. “Seriously? You’ve been crying the whole time?”
“What do you think?” he repeats, more bitterly this time, grabbing a pack of ramen.
You both head to the cashier, the cashier glancing curiously at Seungcheol's disheveled appearance. As you walk towards the dorm buildings, it strikes you how funny you must look together—your party dress barely covering your ass, and his baggy 'I'm not going to see anyone I know' clothes.
“Man, if you’re going to show up looking like this tomorrow, you might as well ask to leave college for real,” you say, shaking your head.
He sighs, his voice weary. “I’m not going to drop out because of her.”
“Then stop crying,” you reply, exasperated.
He snaps at you, “What do you even know about it?”
You pause in your tracks and give him a hard stare. “While you were crying your eyes out all weekend, she was giving Jaehyun head in his car, like, minutes ago,” you say, your face contorting with disgust at the memory.
His eyes open wide. “She gave him head?! What a whore. She never even gave me a blowjob.” he mutters, more to himself than to you.
You raise an eyebrow, munching on your snack. “She never did? Seriously?”
He looks even more pissed, fists clenching at his sides. “I swear! And I always—never mind…” 
“Dude, you were crying over someone who’s not even worth it,” you say, shaking your head. “She’s obviously just using Jaehyun for popularity. She’s not worth your tears.”
He kicks a pebble on the sidewalk, the anger beaming off him. “I thought she loved me.” 
“Pfft! Clearly, she didn't,” you reply, shrugging. “She’s a social climber. She’ll do whatever it takes to get to the top.”
He looks at you, grabbing a handful of your snacks “You’re right. I’m done with her.” he mutters, chewing monstrously. Seungcheol frowns, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “How did you even know about that?”
“I was at the party,” you admit with a shrug.
He glances at you, taking in your outfit and the faint smell of feminine perfume mixed with alcohol. “Now it makes sense why you smell like that and why you’re dressed like this at 11 p.m. on a Sunday,” He glances down, taking in your party dress that’s riding high.
He recalls the moment in the convenience store when you bent down to grab some Takis from the bottom shelf, your ass almost completely exposed. He had glanced, unfortunately and quickly moved to stand behind you, rolling his eyes, blocking the cashier's view, who was wide-eyed and staring. 
“Man, I gotta tell you about all the crap I had to put up with.” he begins.
You listen attentively, craving some juicy gossip to cap off your weekend. He needed to vent, and you were going to end the day with some top-tier gossip. A win-win situation.
At his dorm, Seungcheol sits on his bed, and you are plopping down on the chair, eager to hear the tea.
“Can you believe she made me cancel our anniversary dinner because she wanted to go to some stupid party instead?” he says, shaking his head.
“No way!” you exclaim, licking Takis powder off your fingers, your eyes wide with interest.
He nods, exasperated. “Yeah, and she didn’t even tell me until the last minute. I had this whole thing planned, and she just ditched me.”
“Unbelievable,” you mutter, munching on another Takis. 
“And she always made me do her assignments. I spent countless nights writing essays for her while she was out partying.” 
“She did that?” you ask, genuinely shocked.
“Yep,” he sighs, moving restlessly on his bed. “And get this—she once made me wait for three hours outside her dorm because she was ‘getting ready.’ When she finally came out, she said she didn’t feel like going out anymore.”
“That’s insane!” you gasp, shaking your head in disbelief. “She’s the worst.”
“She really is,” he agrees. “And she never wanted to do anything I liked. It was always about her and what she wanted.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “That’s because you’re too nice, Seungcheol. If it were me, I’d have shown up the next day in a mini skirt like this—” You make a gesture with your fingers, indicating something tiny, “—just to rub it in her face.”
He snorts, amused by the thought. “Yeah, well, I guess it’s different for a guy.”
“Maybe,” you reply, pausing as an idea strikes you. “Wait, do you have contact lenses? Or maybe a clipper?”
He looks confused. “What? Why?”
You step closer, gently moving his hair out of his forehead. “Because if you’re going to move on, you need a new look. Let’s start with this mess of hair.” 
He looks at you, confused. “You really think that’ll help?”
“Bro, trust me,” you say, determined. 
You walk around his room, rummaging through his things, looking for the clipper. Seungcheol sits on his bed, looking at you… Nervously. 
As you plug in the clipper, the buzzing sound fills the room. Seungcheol’s eyes widen in alarm. “You’re not going to make me bald, are you?”
You smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you remember who did the girls’ undercuts below their ponytails for last semester's game?”
His eyes light up in recognition. “That was you?”
You walk back smugly, opening your arms. “Yep, that was all me.”
As you begin cutting his hair, he starts talking again. “You know, she once told me that my glasses made me look like a nerd, and she hated it when I wore them in public.”
You roll your eyes. “Ya! That’s ridiculous. Your glasses suit you. But we can always get you contacts if you want a change.”
You skillfully give him an undercut, trimming his hair and revealing a fresh look. He looks at himself in the mirror, his forehead and thick eyebrows finally getting the attention they deserve. You help him with the contacts, and before you leave his dorm, you give him a final piece of advice.
“No sweaters,” you say firmly.
The next day, as you finish getting ready in your dorm, you hear a knock on the door. Opening it, you find Seungcheol standing there, looking surprisingly handsome in his new look.
“Look at you!” you exclaim, giving him a knowing smile and nodding for him to enter. As you finish getting ready, you ask, “What are you doing here?”
He shuffles his feet, looking a bit shy. “I don’t know, just felt weird going alone.” “You look healthy,” he says, his eyes taking in your appearance.
“Yeah, I took a bath,” you reply, deadpan. “You should try it sometime.”
He chuckles, the nervousness fading a bit. 
Together, you head towards the university building. As you walk beside him, you notice people glancing at him, some even doing double-takes. You stand proudly, shoulders squared, almost waving like a beauty queen.
As you and Seungcheol make your way down the hallway, you spot Minji in the middle of the corridor, surrounded by a group of people. Your eyes dart between her, Seungcheol, and Jaehyun, and you think to yourself that this moment is straight out of a movie. You almost wish you had popcorn to complete the scene.
You and Seungcheol walk closer, and you can see Minji's eyes light up as she spots him. She opens her mouth, probably ready to deliver some dramatic line or apology. 
But Seungcheol, simply ignores her and doesn’t give her the satisfaction of a glance. His chest puffed out slightly.
You take a fine distance from them, your jaw practically dropping in disbelief. “I can’t believe you actually did that, did you really just ignore her?” you ask, laughing.
Despite his impressive new look, Seungcheol didn’t end up mingling with the jock crowd as you might have expected. 
Instead, during recess, you spotted him from afar, sitting with his book club friends. The contrast was cute—here he was, looking like he could easily fit in with the jocks, but he chose to hang out with his old crew, surrounded by books and enthusiastic chat. He stayed true to his roots, hanging out with the people who truly mattered to him
He had the whole package—stylish haircut, fresh look, and yet, he was still the same Seungcheol. Still maintaining his original traits and habits.
The bell rings, signaling the end of classes, and you head towards the dorms, looking forward to a bit of downtime. Suddenly, you hear someone calling after you.
“Hey! Wait up!”
You turn to see Seungcheol jogging towards you, his new look making him stand out even more than before. He’s out of breath but manages a grin. “How can I show my appreciation for what you did?”
You wave him off with a smile. “You don’t need to do anything.”
He pouts, looking genuinely disappointed. “Come on, please!”
You roll your eyes, teasingly. “Calm down, nerd! Hmm, maybe just a beer or something?”
His face brightens at the suggestion. “Beer? That sounds perfect!”
You chuckle, shaking your head as you both start walking together.
As you and Seungcheol sit at a small corner table in the campus bar, nursing your beers, he takes a swig and shakes his head in disbelief.
“I can’t believe I’m drinking on a Monday,” he says, looking at his beer as if it might somehow magically make the week less mundane.
You laugh, leaning back in your chair. “Sometimes it feels like drinking just becomes a part of the routine. It’s like college fucks you up so much that you need these little escapes to keep your sanity.”
Seungcheol nods in agreement, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Yeah, it’s kind of messed up how we end up just normalizing this stuff.”
You both sip in comfortable silence for a moment before he glances at his phone, scrolling through a chat. “Oh, hey, look at this,” he says.
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s that?”
He shows you a photo on his phone. It’s from the party you were at on Sunday—Minji inside Jaehyun’s car, Minji’s head is down, clearly giving him a blowjob, and Jaehyun’s face is smug. Your face scrunches up in disgust as you look at it.
“Ugh, yeah, that’s what I saw,” you say, cringing. “I didn’t want to think about it again.”
Seungcheol sighs heavily. “It’s just... seeing that, after everything that happened, it’s like she’s moved on and I’m left here...”
You take a deep breath, considering his frustration. “Yeah, I get it. It’s a shitty situation.”
He looks at you. “You know, I never really got why she never... I mean, she never did that for me. Not that I’m complaining or anything.”
You blink, taken aback by his confession. “She has never given you a blowjob? You were serious then?”
Seungcheol nods, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah, and now seeing her do it for Jaehyun... it just feels like a slap in the face.”
You sip your beer, thinking it over. The whole situation has him worked up, and you can’t help but feel a bit sympathetic. 
“Damn, that’s rough. I can see why you’d be so pissed.”
“it’s like, she was so willing to do it with Jaehyun, but never with me,” he says, clearly frustrated.
“Well, now you know,” you say, a bit smugly. “She was obviously saving that for Jaehyun.”
He looks down at his beer, indeed annoyed. “Yeah, she was a piece of work. I guess I should have seen it coming.”
“Well, we could always find a way to have some fun and blow off steam. I’m sure there’s a way to make you forget about Minji’s bullshit.”
Seungcheol’s eyes narrow with curiosity. “Like what?”
“I’m sure we could figure something out. Maybe even something you’ve been wanting for a while.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Oh really? And what’s that?”
You lean in even closer, your voice barely a whisper. “Let’s just say, I know a thing or two about making someone forget their ex and feel a lot better. Are you interested?”
You smirk, is he acting, or he's that bad at catching hints?
He looks at you, catching the hint. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
You grin, leaning in a bit closer. “Depends on what you think I’m saying.”
He blushes slightly, his eyes meeting yours. “Careful, Y/N. You’re making it sound like you’re fishing for something specific.”
“Maybe I am. Just putting it out there.” you shrug.
“Are you serious? Stop playin' with me.”
“I'm dead serious.”
He looks at you, contemplating the offer. “You know what? Let’s do it.”
You can't quite pinpoint if it's the alcohol working its magic, loosening up inhibitions, or if it’s just the chemistry between you and Seungcheol, but his attempts at flirting are hitting all the right notes. There’s a certain charm to the way he’s leaning closer, trying to gauge your reactions with every word he says.
He takes a sip of his beer, his eyes meeting yours. “You know,” he starts, his voice a bit slurred, “I’ve always admired how you can just say whatever you want.”
You laugh softly, leaning in to match his tone. “Oh really? And what else do you admire?”
He smiles, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Well, for starters, your confidence. And the way you’re not afraid to call me out. It’s actually pretty sexy.”
The alcohol seems to be giving him a boldness you’ve never seen before. He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face a bit clumsy.
“You’re drunk,” you tease, though you can’t deny the flutter of excitement his touch brings.
“Maybe,” he admits, his gaze lingering on your lips. “But I’m not too drunk to know when something feels right.”
“Seungcheol,” you say softly, trying to keep things light but feeling a pull towards him, “are you sure you want to go down this road?”
He nods, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”
[...]
The scent of your dorm—so unmistakably you—fills Seungcheol's senses, making him harder than ever. As he stands before you, your naked form on your knees, your hand between your legs touching your throbbing clit, and the sight of you looking up at him with hunger in your eyes, it’s enough to make his head spin.
You stroke his cock with one hand, licking your lips like you’re about to devour him. 
His cheeks are flushed, maybe from the alcohol, maybe from the very embarrassment of the situation. He bites his bottom lip, eyes wide with anticipation, his cock starting to ache with need. The handjob you’re giving him is good, but it’s not nearly enough.
“Fuck, you’re so hard,” you murmur, your voice dripping with lust. You can feel his cock twitching in your hand, the head sticky with precum.
He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes glued to the sight of your hand moving up and down his shaft. 
You lean in, your tongue flicking out to taste the precum at the tip of his cock. The salty, slightly bitter taste coats your tongue, and you hum appreciatively, savoring the flavor. Seungcheol's breath hitches, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.
“Oh, fuck!” he groans, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.
You smile up at him, loving his reaction. You want this to be memorable, to engrave this moment into his mind permanently. You give the head of his cock a few teasing licks before enveloping your lips around it. 
“Holy shit, Y/N!” he groans, his voice ragged. As you slide your mouth further down, taking him deeper, his body curls inward, every muscle tensing. It’s like you’re sucking every ounce of energy from him, and he can barely stand it. Your mouth is so wet, so warm, and you look so devoted, so gorgeous.
You look up at him through your lashes, seeing the absolute ecstasy on his face. You’re dedicated, giving all of yourself to make this perfect for him. You bob your head, sucking him deeper, your cheeks hollowing with the effort. Your tongue works along his length, swirling around the tip before you take him in again.
Seungcheol’s efforts to hold back his moans crumble. “Fuck, Y/N, that feels so good,” he whimpers, his voice loaded with desperation. He grips your hair, not to control but to anchor himself, as his arms on the bed threaten to give out.
You hum around his cock, the vibrations making him shudder. You suck harder, your hand stroking the base of his shaft in beat with your mouth. You can feel him throbbing against your tongue, his neediness evident in every spasm and moan.
His moans become louder, more ragged, filling the room. The sound of his pleasure fuels your horniness, and you touch yourself more frantically, your fingers rubbing your clit in time with the movements of your mouth. You’re giving him everything, and you love the way he’s falling apart above you.
“Y/N, I’m so close,” he chokes out whiny. “I can’t… I can’t hold it…”
You look up at him, and suck him even harder, your mouth sliding up and down his length faster. You want to push him over the edge, to give him the orgasm he so desperately needs. Your hand strokes his shaft with more speed, your mouth working tirelessly.
You can't believe that Minji never gave Seungcheol a blowjob. Just the sight of his cock is almost enough to make you cum. With your hand still slick from touching yourself, you grab the base of his shaft and take him as deep as you can, sinking him down your throat. 
You hold him there for some seconds, feeling the tears from your gag reflex forming. When you pull back, you see him nearly losing his balance.
Determined to make this unforgettable, you’re willing to suck his very soul out if it means you get to see his face as he cums and hear those incredible moans from him.
Seungcheol’s body tenses, his muscles locking up as the pleasure becomes too much to bear. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he cries out.
Seungcheol’s entire body convulses, his hips jerking uncontrollably as you milk every drop from him. His eyes roll back, and he lets out a guttural moan, the sound of someone utterly lost in pleasure. You keep sucking him gently, drawing out his orgasm, until he’s left trembling and spent.
When you finally release him, Seungcheol collapses onto the bed, needing to lay down to recover. 
You laugh softly, brushing your fingers through his hair, feeling a rush of pride at the look of utter bliss on his face. His eyes flutter open, and he smiles so wide it makes your heart swell.
He sits up slightly, his hand wrapping around your throat. He grips you gently, his thumb brushing over your skin. You’re caught off guard when he leans in, not giving you just a peck, but sliding his tongue into your mouth. You thought he might find it weird after cumming in your mouth, but he does it without hesitation, moaning at the taste.
You can feel your pussy immediately dripping onto the sheets. His kiss is hungry, filled with gratitude and lingering fascination, and you kiss him back just as fervently, your hands tangling in his hair.
When you finally pull away, you both are breathing heavily.
“Damn, Y/N,” he bites his bottom lip. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”
Seungcheol's eyes roam over your body, and you can see the determination in his gaze. He wants to pay you back, to show you what he can do. Gently, he lifts you onto the bed, laying you down. He positions himself between your legs, his stomach pressed against the mattress. You hear him hiss slightly as his sensitive dick makes contact with the sheets, but his focus remains on you.
“I’ve been studying up on this, Y/N,” he says with a proud smile, like he’s presenting a perfect exam result. “Time to show you what I’ve learned.”
He starts by kissing your inner thighs, his lips soft and teasing against your skin. You shiver, your breath hitching in tension. When his mouth finally reaches your pussy, he doesn't hesitate. His tongue darts out, tasting you for the first time, and he lets out a low, appreciative hum.
“You taste so good,” he says, almost to himself, before diving in.
He licks a long, slow stripe up your slit, his tongue parting your folds and flicking over your clit. You moan, your hips twitching involuntarily. Seungcheol’s hands grip your thighs, holding you firmly in place as he starts to work his tongue with more ambition.
His tongue encircles your clit, teasing and tormenting, before he sucks it into his mouth, creating a delicious pressure that makes you gasp. He alternates between sucking and licking, his mouth hot and insistent. 
You can hear the wet sounds of his mouth on you, mingling with your moans, and it’s driving you even more soaked.
“Oh god, Seungcheol, that feels so good,” you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair, urging him on. “You’re so good at this, nerd.” you smile looking at him.
He looks up at you eyes light up at the praise. “You like that?” he asks, his voice muffled against your pussy.
“Yes, yes, don’t stop,” you plead.
He continues to be concentrated on you, his eyes sharp and focused, studying every reaction. His tongue flicks over your clit, and your hips buck against his mouth. He smiles against you, clearly pleased with your response.
Seungcheol grins and shifts slightly, bringing his fingers into play. He teases your entrance with one finger before slowly pushing it inside you, curling it just right to hit that sweet spot—finding it embarrassingly fast. You shout, your back arching off the bed.
“Fuck, Seungcheol, just like that,” you pant, your hips grinding against his face.
He adds a second finger, pumping them in and out of you while his mouth continues its assault on your clit. The combination is mind-blowing, and you can feel yourself hurtling towards the edge. His fingers twist and curl inside you, like they're calling you, pressing against your sweet spot, and your moans become louder, more desperate.
“You’re so wet,” he murmurs.. “I can feel you clenching around my fingers.”
“Don’t stop, please, don’t stop,” you beg, your thighs squeezing around his head. 
You feel a bit guilty for trapping him like this, but Seungcheol looks delighted, his thick eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he reads every reaction from your body.
He flicks his tongue over your clit in a rapid, persistent move, his fingers moving in perfect rhythm. The wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of you, combined with the slick noises from his mouth, are almost obscene, but they only heighten your arousal.
“You’re gonna make me cum,” you gasp, your voice breaking. “Don’t stop, Seungcheol, please.”
He doesn’t let up, his tongue and fingers working you with a preciseness that makes your head spin. You can feel the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, ready to snap.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, I’m cumming!” you cry out, your body shuddering violently as the orgasm rips through you.
Seungcheol keeps going, drawing out your orgasm, his fingers curling and his tongue flicking relentlessly. Your moans are loud and broken, your hips grinding against his face as you moan vulgarly, your chest rising as you soak his mouth and face. 
Your body convulses, your thighs squeezing him even tighter, and you scream his name, your voice echoing in the room. He continues to lick and finger you through it, prolonging your orgasm until you’re left shaking and breathless.
Finally, he pulls back, his face shining with your arousal, a pleased smile on his lips. “How was that?”
Your body is still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm, and all you can manage is a breathless moan, your hands smudging your face as you try to collect yourself. Seungcheol laughs softly at your reaction.
“I don’t know if I can ride you right now,” you admit, your voice shaking. “I’m still trembling.”
He smirks, a naughty glint in his eyes. “Who said anything about you riding me? I can fuck you just as good, just lay back and let me take care of you.”
The promise in his words makes you clench, and you nod, eager to feel him inside you. He positions himself between your legs, his cock hard and ready. As he lines himself up with your entrance, you can’t help but gasp at the sight of his size.
When he finally pushes inside you, the stretch is both breathless and blissful. His cock fills you completely, the sensation intensified by how wet you are. Your body welcomes him, and he slides in easily, the friction making you moan loudly.
“Oh god, Seungcheol, just like that!” you breathe out, your hands gripping his shoulders.
He lowers his head, his lips brushing against your neck as he begins to move. His kisses are surprisingly sweet for the roughness of his thrusts, and you find the contrast and incredibly hot.
Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he moans, his thrusts becoming more urgent. The bed creaks beneath you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more and more.
“Fuck me like you mean it.” you grit through your teeth. 
Seungcheol’s eyes blacken, and he grips your hips, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. You cry out, your head falling back against the pillow, your body jiggling with each strong movement.
 “I’m not stopping until you’re screaming my name,” he promises, and you know he means it.
His thrusts become relentless, each one hitting that perfect spot inside you, your eyes watering. Your moans turn into cries, your mind going blank with pleasure. You can feel your orgasm approaching, and you cling to him, needing him closer.
“Seungcheol, I’m gonna—”
The sudden sound of Seungcheol’s phone ringing startles both of you. “Fuck... no,” he mutters, pulling out of you reluctantly. You almost swallow a sob, your orgasm fading away.
"Answer it," you tell him, your voice steady despite your frustration.
He looks at the caller ID, his face contorting in disgust. "Minji," he says, showing the screen to you. You wave your hand, signaling for him to answer. He does, putting the call on speaker. The fact that he's not hiding it, that he wants you to hear, that he doesn't have a problem with it, is unexpectedly hot.
“Seungcheol?” You roll your eyes at her voice.
“Yeah?” he replies, his tone short and uninterested.
“I... I wanted to talk. Can we meet up?” she asks, her voice faltering.
You sit up silently, your mind racing. Seungcheol answers her shortly, clearly wanting to hang up. As he talks, you get an idea. You crawl over to him, your eyes locked on his as you straddle his lap, your breasts pressing against his face. 
He looks up at you, confused.
“What are you doing?” he whispers, his breath hitching.
“Seungcheol, are you listening to me?” Minji’s voice is impatient, and he can't answer.
You just smile, grabbing his cock and sliding it back inside you as his face contorts in silence, jaw slack as he looks inside your eyes. He bites his lip, trying to stifle a moan as you begin to move, slowly at first, then faster, circling your hips around him.
“Seungcheol? Are you there?” She asks, sounding more desperate now.
He tries to answer, but you start moving, slowly at first, then picking up the pace.
“Yeah, I’m here,” he replies, his voice strained. He places a hand on your hip, trying to steady you as you ride him.
“What are you doing?” her voice cuts through the tension, suspicion clear.
You moan slyly, loudly, not even needing to force it. “Oh, Seungcheol,” you purr, the sound sending a cold lick down his spine. He can't help but moan too, his resolve breaking.
Minji’s voice rises in panic. “Seungcheol, what’s going on? Who’s there with you?”
He can’t help but moan too, gripping your hips tighter. “Don’t talk to me anymore, Minji,” he says, his voice strained with pleasure.
“What the hell is happening? Who is that?!” She's furious.
Seungcheol’s hands grip your hips, his body shuddering with each thrust. “Y/N... I can’t...”
“Just a little more,” you whisper, leaning down to kiss his neck. “Let her hear how good I make you feel.”
He groans, unable to hold back any longer. “Minji, I’m fucking done with you,” he says, his voice shaking. “Don’t call me again!”
You moan again, louder this time, and Seungcheol echoes your sound, his head falling back. 
The call disconnects abruptly, but you don’t stop. 
You ride him harder, feeling him throb inside you, his body tensing as he reaches his peak.
“Y/N, I’m gonna—” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss, swallowing his moans as he comes, his release sending you over the edge as well.
Seungcheol throws the phone aside with a decisive flick of his wrist, his focus entirely on you now—not that he stopped, his mind was imploring for you every second. 
He grips your hips firmly, handling you on his lap with a possessive, almost primal passion, like you’re a fucking doll. The strength of his arms moving you on his lap, makes you gasp, and you abruptly pull away from the kiss, your hand flying to your mouth in a futile attempt to suppress your scream.
It doesn’t work. 
The sound that escapes you is raw and unfiltered—a high-pitched scream that echoes off the walls of the dorm room. You’re cumming all over his cock, your cum spilling over onto his balls and pelvis, the wetness spreading in a deliciously messy explosion.
Seungcheol’s grip tightens, his breathing ragged as he feels the lock of your orgasm. He’s fighting his own demons to keep his eyes open, the pleasure so harsh that it’s almost too much to endure. His eyes are locked on yours, and you see the struggle written all over his face.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he groans, his voice wasted with overstimulation. His moves become more desperate, desperate to feel every inch of you.
Your body shakes uncontrollably, every muscle tensed as you fight to keep your eyes open, to stay grounded in the moment. You feel the room spinning, the pleasure so intense that it’s almost blinding. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you struggle to stay upright.
You collapse against Seungcheol. He pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a protective, almost desperate grip. Despite his own wavering strength, his desire to hold and shield you is real, overshadowing any fatigue he might be feeling.
With the last of your strength, you gently pull his cock out of you, your movements sluggish. You remain close, still wrapped around him, feeling the warmth and softness of his body against yours. The sensation of his cock slipping free leaves a trail of dampness between you, your orgasms dripping onto his pelvis and the sheets beneath you.
Seungcheol shudders as he feels the wetness spreading across his skin. The soaked feeling on his pelvis, combined with the aftershocks of your orgasm, makes him groan softly. His hands are still firmly clasped around you, his chest rising and falling with each breath.
“Fuck,” he mutters, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we just did that while Minji was on the phone.”
You chuckle softly, your exhaustion making your laugh feel weak but genuine. 
Seungcheol lets out a rueful laugh. “I was trying so hard to keep it together while she was talking, and here you are, riding me like there’s no tomorrow.”
You raise an eyebrow playfully. “So, what did she hear exactly? Did she get the full experience or just a taste?”
Seungcheol grins, his cheeks flushing a bit. “Oh, she heard more than a taste. I was trying to get her off the line quickly, but with you going at it like that, I think she caught on pretty fast. She definitely knew something was up.”
“And now she’s probably going to think you’re a total jerk for just hanging up on her like that.”
“To be honest, I was so caught up in how good you were making me feel that I couldn’t even process what she was saying. All I could think about was you.”
The next morning is a whirlwind of frantic activity and poorly disguised attempts to cover up the previous night's larks. As you glance in the mirror, you notice the indicative signs of sex: red, blossoming hickeys on your neck that stubbornly refuse to be concealed. You grab your concealer and try your best to dab and blend, but the more you work, the more obvious it seems.
Seungcheol, on the other hand, is in an equally frantic state. He’s darting around his dorm room, desperately scrubbing away any remaining proof of the night before. He’s juggling a toothbrush in his mouth while trying to hide the hickeys with his hoodie. He eventually settles on a high-collared shirt that looks formal and slightly out of place for a morning class, but it gets the job done.
You rush out of your dorm, barely managing to grab your things before heading to your first class. The entire way there, you catch glimpses of yourself in shop windows and mirrors, each time cringing at how you might still look too happy, too satisfied.
Seungcheol is nearly out of breath by the time he arrives at the hallways, his face flushed—not entirely from exertion, you suspect.
“Did you manage to get rid of all the hickeys?” Seungcheol whispers walking on your side suddenly, as he tries to adjust his collar without drawing too much attention.
“Not even close,” you reply with a wry smile. “I’m basically wearing a turtleneck now, but it’s not foolproof.”
He laughs, a bit too loudly given the circumstances. “Well, at least we look like we’re going somewhere fancy. If anyone asks, just say it’s a new fashion statement.”
You snicker, shaking your head. “I don’t think that’s going to work. I’m just hoping people don’t look too closely.”
As you both ascend the stairs to your respective classes, the early morning hustle is almost forgotten when Seungcheol suddenly grabs your wrist, his eyes darting around to ensure no one is watching. 
The empty stairwell is the perfect backdrop for his next move.
Before you can react, Seungcheol leans in and steals a quick, tender peck from your lips. The unexpected kiss surprises you, and a smile instantly lights up your face. You respond with another, slightly longer kiss.
You pull back slightly, looking at him with a playful glint in your eye. “So, what about tonight?” you ask slyly.
Seungcheol’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Huh?”
You make a theatrical gesture with your hand, tracing a path up and down to your cheek, poking your cheek with your tongue, mimicking the motion of sucking him off. Your naughty movement is clear and provocative.  
Seungcheol's face flushes instantly, his eyes widening as he processes your meaning.
He bites his lip, his eyes locking onto yours with a glint of playful defiance. With a teasing smirk, he lifts his middle fingers, licking them exaggeratedly before curling them inward, making the motion unmistakably obscene.
“Something like this?” he asks, his voice sultry, his eyes never leaving yours. “Think you can handle it tonight?”
You can't help but be taken aback by Seungcheol's bold gesture, your jaw falling slack in surprise. 
“Meet me at the storage room,” you murmur, urgent. “You’re going to finger me there.”
Seungcheol’s eyes widen. “The storage room?” he repeats, his voice a quiet, thrilled whisper, his breath catching slightly.
He thinks then gives you a quick, eager nod, the hint of a smile playing at his lips.
“Sure thing,” he continues. “Can’t wait.”
A birthday one-shot to my cutie pie hahaha 29 years old—I'm crying n'shit. 😭🥺❤️
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bpmiranda · 13 days
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Uncle Logan II |l. howlett| nsfw
A/N: pure smut, uncle!logan x faux!niece reader, smut, age gap, 18+ f!reader, clit play, fingering, spitting, orgasm denial, mean!logan, dom!logan
Uncle Logan
The hell is wrong with me? Logan thought to himself the next morning as he laid awake on his bed, rubbing his hand over his face and scratching his beard in frustration. Before yesterday, he had never looked at you in that manner, but something about seeing you all grown up, dressed up so pretty, so vulnerable for him. It was like he couldn’t help himself, he needed to taste you so badly, his instincts taking over any reason he had left.
It couldn’t be as bad as he thought, you weren’t really his niece at the end of the day. Maybe, hopefully, you’d forgotten about last night and it wouldn’t come up. Logan knew that wasn’t the case when you shyly came out of your bedroom and looked at him with wide, nervous eyes. “Morning, Uncle Logan.” You said in a voice barely above a whisper.
“Hey, sweet girl,” He said, looking at you over the rim of his mug as he sipped his coffee while sitting at the kitchen table. “Have a seat.” He motioned to the chair across from him and you obediently sat down. Logan pushed a mug towards you that was filled with coffee as well and you gave him a thankful smile as you sipped it slowly. “About last night,” He started, watching you carefully as he tried to figure out how to word this for you. “I hope you understand that I’m only tough on you because that’s what your parents want and that’s clearly what you need.” You chew anxiously on your bottom lip and nod slowly, hands holding tightly onto your mug as it sits in your lap. “The sneaking out, the drinking at bars, it’s gotta stop. You can’t behave like that anymore, got it?” You nod again. Logan takes in a deep breath and clears his throat. “I shouldn’t have come onto you the way I did. It wasn’t appropriate, and I apologize.”
Your cheeks grew warm with the reminder of last night and you looked down at your mug, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. “I’m sorry, Uncle Logan.” You said, looking back up at him. “I won’t sneak out again.”
“Good.”
That was the end of that conversation.
Logan made you breakfast and then gave you a list of chores to complete while he went to work. “Everything on this list?” You ask with a mouthful of eggs and he chuckles, shaking his head as he shrugs on his coat and tucks his reading glasses into the inside breast pocket.
“I warned your dad long ago not to spoil you.” He sighed with a smirk, caressing your head and kissing your forehead before leaving the apartment. “It better all be completed before I get back.” He calls as he closes the door behind him.
With a soft groan, you finish your breakfast and wash the dishes, which is the first thing on the list, and you smile. “Okay, done with that.” You say to yourself as you cross it off and then you read the rest of the list. “Sweep the apartment, mop the kitchen, clean the bathroom, wash the windows, take out the trash.” You pout and whine, already bored and annoyed with the list until you get an idea.
“You want me to come do your chores for you?” Adam laughs over the phone.
You can’t help the smile on your lips as you’re sitting on the living room couch, twirling a strand of your hair around your finger. “Please, baby?” You whine sweetly. “If you help me, we’ll have the apartment to ourselves.” You say in a singsong voice. “My uncle won’t be home until tonight. We can fool around a little since we couldn’t meet up last night.”
It doesn’t take much more than that to convince him and he arrives at Logan’s apartment within thirty minutes. You task him with the messier chores to do while you focus on the sweeping and the windows. When you finish before him and you tell him you’re going to take a quick shower as he leaves to take the trash out.
Underneath the hot water, you touch your chest slowly, run your fingers over the spot between your breasts where your uncle had kissed and bit on you last night. The thought made you clench your thighs together and you rushed through the rest of your shower to meet Adam in your bedroom. He was lying on your bed, flipping through a book while he waited for you, and he sat up immediately when you walked in wearing just your towel. “Hey,” He smirked, standing up and walking over to you. “Are we going to, you know?” He asked as he held onto your hips.
“No,” You smirked, pushing him back softly. “You’re going to sit on the bed and watch me.” Adam smiles as he lets you push him onto the end of your bed. You pick out a pair of black lace panties and a black camisole with a lace trim on the neckline. You drop your towel and make eye contact with your boyfriend as you slip the garments on.
“You’re killing me, sweet pea.” He groans as you walk over to him, giggling while you sat on his lap and kissed him. His hands slid slowly up your thighs and you immediately started to think about Logan. Your core ached as you remembered how his hands felt as they gripped tightly onto your thighs, your hands clutched onto his shoulders, and you pushed him back so he’d lay down. “Fuck, baby.” He groaned, grabbing your ass as you rocked your hips against his crotch.
All you could think about was Logan as you kept your eyes closed and tried to imagine it was him underneath you, pawing at you, begging for you. “Uh,” You gasped, a familiar tension forming in the pit of your belly. “Oh, oh, my God!” You groaned loudly, eyes squeezed shut as you were so close.
And then your bedroom door burst open making you gasp as you jumped off your boyfriend and scrambled to the other side of the room. Logan was standing in the doorway, fuming, looking from you to Adam who was visibly nervous underneath the hard, cold gaze of the large man blocking his only way out. “You,” Logan pointed at Adam and approached him, grabbing him roughly by the front of his shirt and dragging him out of your room. “Come with me.” You moved to stop Logan until he suddenly turned to you and you froze. “You stay right here.” He said through gritted teeth before he slammed your door shut. You could hear Logan yelling, Adam stammering back a response, and then the slam of the apartment door. You jumped at the sound, the apartment seemed to quake from the force, and you quickly got into your bed where you pulled the sheets up to cover yourself.
There was heavy pacing in the living area and it suddenly stopped. You grew nervous as you heard him coming to your door, your hands trembled as you held tightly onto your blankets. The door opened and Logan walked in with a tight jaw and cold eyes. As the door slammed behind him, you found yourself sitting up a little, almost expectantly.
“You don’t know how to follow directions, do you?” He asked, loosening his tie as he watched you cower under your sheets. “I said you had to do those chores,” Logan suddenly ripped the blankets off you and you gasped softly, watching him with big, nervous eyes. “And then, to make matters worse, you sneak your little boyfriend into my apartment.” You can feel his eyes roaming over your practically naked body with his rage-filled eyes and you fold your arms shyly over yourself. “What the hell were you planning on doing in my apartment?” He suddenly grabbed your jaw tightly in his hand, squeezing your cheeks together and getting really close to your face.
You moisten your lips, stammering nervously, eyes welling with tears. “I-I-we weren’t-Uncle Logan,” You pouted, your bottom lip quivering as a tear slid down your cheek. “I promise, I wasn’t going to do anything with him. I-I’m still a virgin.”
Logan stares at you for a moment, he knows you’re telling the truth, but you still need to be punished and you look so adorable in your little tank top and matching panties. You’re a weak man, he thinks to himself as he gives in to his filthy urges. “Still a virgin, huh?” He asks, his hand leaving your jaw, knuckles tracing down your chest to your mound. With one hand, he pushes your knees apart and he feels the wet spot on the crotch of your panties. You shudder as your pussy clenches around nothing, and he feels it. “You like to play with that boy’s head, don’t you?”
You swallow hard, scared to breathe as he is so gentle with his touch, you don’t want to deter him. “I don’t do it to be mean.” You murmur, watching his index finger with which he draws small circles over your clit. You’re biting your lip painfully hard, chest heaving, gripping tightly onto the bedsheets as he watches with amusement. You’re definitely a virgin. He can smell you, your arousal, the dampness of your panties giving away just how close you previously were to reaching an orgasm.
“Sounds like you need a taste of your own medicine.”He says decidedly as he rests a knee onto the mattress and drags you to the end of it. His hands guide your thighs around his waist and he leans one hand on the bed while the other thumbs your clit slowly over your thin panties. Your eyes roll back into your head at the pressure, the filthy feeling of being touched by your uncle. He’s not your uncle, you think to yourself as you begin to enjoy it. Your thighs lock onto him, your eyebrows scrunch together as you stare up at him with your mouth agape. His lips hover over yours, not kissing you, not even attempting to as you pant quietly against his mouth, moaning lewdly underneath his large frame. You’re gripping tightly onto the edge of the mattress, tears welling in your eyes as Logan watches you nearly come undone below him and then he stops.
That famous pout forms on your lips again and a few tears roll down your cheek as you say, “Please don’t stop, Uncle Logan.” You plead, your little body shaking as he moves your panties to the side, looking at the most private part of your body in a most intimate way.
“You’re not really in a position to call the shots.” He said, focused on your cunt as it glistened from your arousal, your core pulsed in desire, and Logan wanted so badly to taste you. “I don’t know how I’m going to get you to do as you’re told.” You whined as the pads of his index and middle fingers softly caressed your clit, his lips trailing down your jaw and to your neck. “Your parents warned me you’d be a hassle, but I never imagined this behavior from you.”
“I’m sorry,” You whispered, breathing heavily as his fingers rubbed your sensitive, aching bud. His hot breath fanned over your collarbone and you wanted to feel his mouth somewhere else. “I’m so sorry, I want to be good for you.”
Logan smirked at your words as he kissed your perky breasts through your soft, thin camisole. The tip of his tongue circled around your hardened nipple, biting lightly on it through the fabric, making you whine loudly as he was being so gentle and slow and you desperately wanted him to ruin you. “You want to be good?” He asked, kneeling on the floor at the end of your bed between your thighs. You sat up on your forearms and nodded, watching him slowly pull your panties down your legs with warm cheeks. Logan stuffed your damp garment in his back pocket and he moved your thighs to rest on his shoulders. “Don’t cum.”
“Logan!” You gasped, your mouth dropping slightly as he spit on your cunt and rubbed his saliva onto your clit, watching you grow desperate the more he touched you. His other hand pressed down onto your lower belly, pinning you to the bed so you couldn’t wriggle away from him as you became overwhelmed with the tension of an oncoming release. “Please, I need to cum! Please, please!”
“No.”
Your eyes welled with fresh, hot tears and you sobbed as your held onto the tension, forcing yourself to resist the tantalizing pull of pleasure. “You’re so mean!” You complained as you fell back onto the bed, covering your face with your hands as you cried.
Logan only chuckled as he continued toying with your clit, breathing heavily against your sopping folds. The air of his breath made your cunt clench with want and the smell of your arousal was driving him crazy with lust. Logan would always hold out longer than you, however. “Punishments are supposed to be mean, sweet girl. You know you deserve it.”
“Uncle Logan,” You moaned, one hand tentatively tangling in his hair as you sat back up on your elbow. “I was thinking about you when I was with him.” You told him, breathless and aching for more. Logan’s fingers stopped moving and he looked at you with a darkness veiling his eyes. “I want you to be my first.”
No, she’s your niece, he thought to himself. She’s basically your niece, it’s wrong. “Don’t do that.” He said, his index finger tracing the rim of your core, pushing in slowly to feel at your gummy walls. “You don’t want that.”
“It’s true,” Your other hand grabbed onto his hair as well, and you sat up to press your lips to his mouth. The scratch of his beard against your chin made you moan and he kissed you back, one hand on the side of your neck as his fingers continued feeling their way into your tight core, twisting slowly to stretch you gently. “Uncle Logan, I want you to fuck me.” You mewled as you pulled him over you, lying back with his large frame hovering above you as he continued finger fucking you. His tongue intertwined with yours, grunting against your kiss as you whined for him and pushed your trembling little frame into him. His fingers were quickly coated in the creamy, white sheen of your arousal, the juices threatening to spill out of you while you whimpered against his lips, desperately grinding into his hand. “Please, please, please!” You begged, burying your face in his chest as you were, once again, so close.
“Are you on birth control?” Logan suddenly found himself asking, hoping you’d say yes, and lightly clicking his tongue when you shyly shake your head. “Then I can’t fuck you, baby.” His fingers leave your warm, sopping cunt before you reach a release for the third time and you cry softly, covering your face again as he keeps your thighs spread apart so he can spit on your abused hole, cruelly rubbing his saliva into your clit one last time.
“Please, I wanna cum so bad.” You whimpered as he pulled the sheets back over you and licked his fingers clean off.
“Maybe if you followed directions the first time you wouldn’t feel so unsatisfied now.” He said in a harsh tone as he adjusted the hard shaft in his pants while looking at you lying breathless and annoyed in your bed. “Only good girls get rewarded, sweetheart.”
You were left alone in your bedroom, quietly trying to get yourself back to the brink of orgasm while Logan stood on the other side of your door, listening intently to your muffled moans and gasps as he stroked himself with your panties around his cock. His cum stained the lace fabric as he heard you whisper his name in pleasure, whining at the thought of him, and he grunted quietly with his release. They’re ruined, you wouldn’t want them back, he told himself as he kept your underwear and slept with it balled up in his hand the whole night.
🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃
Uncle Logan III
🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @pinkanonwriting @captain039 @fictionalmen-dilflover @shybluebirdninja @virgoxfa1ry @thatweirdtheaternerd12
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satansdarlin · 2 months
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Royal flush
Gambit/Remy LeBeau x Fem!Reader
NSFW tags: Oral fem receiving, breeding kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)
Minors DNI
Word count: 3126
Not beta read so excuse any grammar mistakes
Written because of an idea from- @fandomzwriterk 💜
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Remy was like a dog caged as he watched his loving partner bouncing Jean and Scott's son on her leg as she chatted to Jean. Why did she have to look so good just doing something like bouncing a baby? He loved her, he really did. But seeing her so close with another family just... irked  him. Jealousy wasn’t a normal thing for him. But (Y/N) just looked so damn happy. He was trying not to watch, but... he couldn’t stop himself. He leaned against the wall and just... watched her. It wasn't like he was jealous of Scott or Jean for spending time with her. No, in fact it was a far different reason. He was jealous because.. it should be him and (Y/N) doing that with a kid. Gah, he was getting worked up just imagining it. Imagining her all big and pregnant with his kid, her glowing that special way only pregnant women did. Holding their kid, being a perfect mom. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts as he continued to stare.
She glanced up feeling his stare and gave him a soft smile. He was surprised that she caught him staring. He was usually better at going unnoticed. He returned her smile, albeit a bit sheepishly. Damn, he felt a bit like a middle schooler, being caught staring at his crush. He didn't need to feel sheepish he internally reminded himself they had been together for so long and his ring was decorating her finger now. Kids wasn't something they had talked about yet both anxious about the idea of having children. Being mutants and still having to fight back against the anti-mutant campaign was hard enough imagining having a little bundle of joy that was also a mutant? Terrifying. But... the thought was intoxicating. Just imagining her belly swollen with their kid. Merde, he was getting worked up by this whole chain of thought. He couldn’t help but imagine her being all motherly, holding a baby, breastfeeding. His baby. He shook his head again, trying to clear his thoughts.
She passed the baby back to Jean and made her way over to her husband.  "You've been starin pretty hard" she spoke in a teasing tone. He couldn’t resist returning the teasing tone. 
“Well, can you blame me, baby?” He eyed her up and down again, almost salivating. “You’re lookin’ pretty damn good tonight.”
She glanced down at herself in slight confusion. She was just wearing one of his older shirts and some jeans. A completely casual attire.  "You're just easily impressed, hun”
He laughed. “You’re wearing my shirt. You know how much I like seein’ you in my shirt.” He reached out, grabbing her hips and pulling her close against him. “Besides, even if you were wearin’ a potato sack, you’d still look damn good.”
She snorted a bit and kissed his cheek not minding how his scruff scratched a her lips.  "You're actin off baby. Somethin up?”
He let out a hum, pulling her in closer so she was against his chest and he could wrap his arms around her. “Just watchin’ you with the kid got me a bit worked up.” Understatement, he thought.
She looked up at him with a sense of understanding.  "Yeah? Kids huh?" She didn't sound judgemental or opposed but rather curious. 
He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers. “Yeah. They ain’t ever really been a though in my mind. But…” Damn it, he was going to have to say it out loud. “Watchin’ you with that kid… I couldn’t help but imagine you with our kid. Bein’ all… motherly. I like how you looked.”
She hummed softly at this her eyes scanning over his black and red ones. "Well i think it's only natural. We been married for a while now." She spoke gently 
He nodded, unable to deny it. “We’ve been together for a while… and yet… a baby’s never been a thought in our minds, not really. I mean, are we really prepared to be parents?” He was being honest, despite how excited he was to see the sight of his wife with a baby in her arms.
"Well.. we could start preparing if you are wanting to take that step" she gently ran her hands over his shoulders. 
His heart skipped a beat. Here she was, not outright refusing the idea, but actually considering it and preparing to talk about it. “Are you wanting this?” He had to make sure, had to make sure she didn’t just agree because it made him happy.
"Baby I've been thinkin we would have adorable kids the moment we met" she giggled softly
He chuckled, pulling her flush against him. “Damn right they’d be adorable.” He leaned down, kissing right below her ear. “Can you imagine it? Little brats runnin’ around, wreakin’ havoc?”
She hummed softly. "Oh it'd be terrible" she teased as she felt one of his hands press against her stomach absent mindedly.
He let his hand roam, imagining the flat stomach swelling with pregnancy. “You know they’d take after you. Get your cute little nose and eyes.”
"Bet they'd get your hair." She hummed running her hand through his hair to emphasize her point. 
He chuckled, enjoying the feel of her fingers running through his hair. “They’d get your temper, too. I’d almost feel bad for ‘em.” He teased her.
She rolled her eyes and her gaze trailed over her lover. "Wanna get out of here?" She spoke in a hushed tone with a quirk of her lips into a smirk
He chuckled, already knowing what she had in mind. “Thought you’d never ask.” He pressed his hips against hers, already feeling himself getting aroused by just being this close to her.
That's how they ended up back in their shared home. Clothes decorating the floor from the front door to their bedroom. The bed creaking and headboard being muffled by the pillow stuffed behind it. She was clawing at his hair as he held his post between her legs lapping at her like a starved man.
He was damn near worshiping her, holding her tight and not letting her get away. “God, sweetheart, you taste so good,” he groaned, lapping at her like she was the source of his life essence.
She was whimpering and mewling as she fisted the sheets like they were a life line. She gripped onto his hair with her other hand gently tugging as he drug his tongue across her sensitive flesh. 
He was absolutely loving the sounds she was making. He knew exactly how sensitive she was, and he knew every single trick of his tongue to drive her crazy with pleasure. He was taking his time with her, enjoying every single second, savoring how good she felt and tasted.
She gasped out, her back arching like a cat as he pushed two fingers into her. He curled his fingers inside of her, knowing exactly how to draw out that pleasure and drive her absolutely wild. “You like that, sweetheart?” He teased her, his breathing a bit labored from his own aroused state.
She nodded desperately. "Yes rem love it feels so good" she whined out in that breathy needy tone he loved to hear her speak in. A tone reserved for his ears only. 
Damn, he loved how desperate she was. How needy she was. She was his, and his alone, and he’d make sure she knew that. “I’ll make ya feel so good, baby,” he murmured, latching his lips around the sensitive flesh and sucking.
Both hands went to the sheets clawing at the silk fabrics and the plush mattress underneath. 
He groaned against her, the sounds she was making and how desperate she was getting was driving him wild. He wanted to taste every inch of her, touch every single spot that would make her cry out with pleasure. He was completely intoxicated by her, like a drug he couldn’t get enough of.
The feeling of his vibrations against her made her mewl out loudly. "fuck!" Her words sent a jolt of satisfaction through him, making him smirk against her flesh. 
“That’s it… let me hear how good I make you feel, baby.” He curled his fingers again, knowing exactly how to draw out more desperate mewls from her.
She gasped out her hips pushing up against his arm holding them down. "Close" she squeaked out in a desperate mewl.
He could feel her getting closer, could feel her getting tighter and tighter around his fingers. He wanted to bring her over the edge, wanted to hear her come completely undone with ecstasy. “Come on, baby.” He pressed down on her hip harder, still relentlessly working her towards that sweet release. “Come for me,” he murmured against her, using every trick he knew to send her careening over the edge. “I wanna hear how good you feel.”
She cried out and her muscles contracted as she came undone. Her back bucked, her entire body trembling and twitching with the intensity of her orgasm. She was completely and utterly helpless under his touch. “R-remy….!”
He groaned against her as her body trembled and shook with pleasure. He wasn’t finished yet, though. He wanted to wring out every single bit of ecstasy from her that he could. “That’s it, sweetheart, let me make you feel good,” he murmured, his fingers working her through her orgasm and overstimulating her.
Her hands, shaking from the force of her orgasm, gripped his hair pulling him away letting out a breathy chuckle hearing him whine. "Baby I'd rather get on to the main course”
He groaned as he felt her grip his hair, preventing him from continuing his ministrations. When he heard her chuckling, he let out a whine, still wanting to taste her and bring her to climax once more. But hearing her wanting the main course stirred his excitement. “You sure you don’t want another?” He smirked, his usual overconfidence on display.
"This time I wanna finish around something bigger than your fingers" she wiped his face for him wiping off the left over arousal from her. He hummed, letting his tongue run over his lips to taste her again. 
“Such an impatient wife,” he teased her, wiping his chin on the back of his hand. “You want me that badly?” He asked, already knowing exactly what her answer would be.
"You know I do, baby." She inched her legs up over his hips. Now that wouldn't do. If he wanted to properly breed her those thighs needed to be up on his shoulders.
He chuckled, moving forward and pushing her thighs up until they were resting on his shoulders, allowing him to press even closer. “Naughty thing.” He teased her, pressing his hips against hers and letting her feel how hard he was for her. “You’re pretty much begging for it now.”
"Don't make me beg baby. I just want to make you daddy" she purred up at him. She knew damn well how weak that made him. He absolutely loved hearing her call him that, and she knew exactly how to use it to her advantage. His heart was pounding in his chest, his brain already filled with the image of her with a baby in her arms, calling him daddy. 
“Jesus Christ,” he groaned, his grip on her thighs tightening. He leaned back, resting on his knees and keeping her legs up on his shoulders.  “You really want a baby that much, huh?” He asked, taking in how she looked underneath him, just at his mercy. 
"I want your baby, remy" she gazed up at him. 
Hearing her say that shot a wave of intense possessiveness through him. “You want my baby?” He repeated back to her, almost like he was processing the words himself. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” He ran his hands up to her hips, holding her in his tight grip. He pushed the tip of him into her, teasing her a bit but it was hell to not just immediately slam in. He teased them both by just barely pushing the tip inside, driving himself absolutely insane. “God, you feel so good, sweetheart,” he groaned, his eyes locked on her face as he teased her. “You want it all, don’t you?”
"Yes, baby. Please give it to me remy" she whined softly already too desperate to play their usual game of cat and mouse. 
He couldn’t resist listening to her desperate whines and pleading. “Anything you want, baby.” He leaned down, pressing as deep inside of her as he could. “You gotta tell me if this gets uncomfortable,” he told her, wanting to keep her completely comfortable and safe.
"Shut up and fill me up, Mon cher" she hissed back already too impatient to be waiting any longer.  He chuckled at her impatience, but he wasn’t going to torture either of them any longer.
 “Alright, I’ll shut up and give you exactly what you want, sweetheart.” He pulled back slowly, only to snap his hips forward and fill her completely.
 They quickly dissolved into a panting mess as the bed shook with every thrust. He was glad they had moved out of their old apartment cause they would definitely gotten a noise complaint. He was mumbling French curses between English praises, his cajun accent dripping off his tongue like it was honey. The sounds of the bed creaking, the sound of his voice cursing, and the sound of her moans filled his ears. He was absolutely drunk off of her, completely intoxicated by how she felt and how she sounded. The French slipped out before he could even realize it, his usual filter completely off. She was absolutely living for it. She loved when he would talk dirty to her in his accent and that doubled down when he spit out French like it was nothing. 
Every single time he cursed in French, her reaction would drive his excitement higher and higher. “Vous sentez si bien, mon amour,” he panted to her, pressing even deeper inside of her with every thrust. “You’re mine, sweetheart. All mine.”
"Yours" she mewled back as his tip kissed her womb with every thrust. She was clawing at the sheets like a cat in heat crying out like one too. 
He could already feel his thrusts getting a bit sloppy and desperate, his hands gripping her hips so tight he was going to leave bruises. “That’s it baby,” he growled out, losing himself more and more with every minute. “God, you don’t know how good you feel.”
She was mind dumb as what felt like her third maybe fourth orgasm rippled through her. Just like he liked her. Her climax made him shiver, feeling her walls tighten around him and send waves of ecstasy through him. “You look so beautiful when you cum for me, baby,” he groaned out, his hips still bucking against hers. “You’re gonna make me cum too if you’re not careful,” he tried to tease her, but his voice came out as a desperate, strained whisper. 
"Give it to me" she spoke through slurred words filled with pleasure and mewls. "Make me a mama" 
“God, you’re driving me crazy, sweetheart.” His words came out in a breathless hiss, trying his best to hold himself back from falling over that edge. “Beg for it.” He was cocky, he loved to hear her beg for him like that. He wanted to hear how desperate she was.
"Please remy need it! Wanna be swollen with you! Want your baby" she whined out between moans and biting her lip as her eyes rolled up into the back of her skull.
“Damn near gonna be on my knees with hearing you like that,” he groaned, giving into her words. “God, you want me to fill you up?” He knew the answer already, but he couldn’t resist asking. He wanted to hear her say it.
"Yes yes yes,” the mantra fell from her lips like a depraved woman. She practically was. The idea of her handsome husband filling her up till there was no other way she couldn't be pregnant was appealing.
He was far from being able to hold back any longer. Her words were pushing him faster and faster to the edge, driving him more and more wild. “You’re gonna have it, baby,” he panted out. “Gonna make you a mama.”
His hips snapped into hers with a force he didn't even know he was capable of. His grip on her thighs was tight enough he knew there'd be bruises later. He was desperate, completely lost in how she felt, how she sounded, how she looked underneath him with his hands holding her down. The thought of the possessive marks he was leaving on her skin only fueled his need for more. “Christ, sweetheart, I’m gonna-” he started to warn her.
She mewled out as she felt him jerk forward spurts filling her up completely even spilling out onto the sheets below them. 
He gave a guttural moan as his orgasm hit him like a freight train. “Oh God,” he panted as his hips gave little, shallow thrusts with each pulse of pleasure. “Fill you up so good,” he groaned. 
He collapsed against her, letting go of her thighs and wrapping his arms around her. He was panting against her chest, trying his best to catch his breath from how hard he had just come. “You’re going to drive me into early cardio arrest,” he chuckled weakly.
She was coming down from it herself panting as she patted his sweaty shoulder. "Love you too babe”
He chuckled, pressing a kiss between her breasts. “Love you more,” he mumbled against her skin, his brain still a little sluggish as he recovered his brain power.
When he rolled off of her finally and she cuddled up into his side not even bothering to change the sheets yet both of their legs feeling like jelly. He pulled her close against his chest, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin against her forehead. He was completely and utterly satiated at the moment, already feeling the fatigue of exertion setting in and his eyelids growing heavy.
"Think it will take?" She hummed tiredly back at him.
“It better,” he chuckled, already knowing damn well that it would work. He ran his fingers through her hair, still damp with sweat. “If you’re not pregnant after this, you’ll break my heart.”
"We will just keep trying won't we then?" She teased back.
“Damn right we will,” he said, already planning out how soon he could go again without collapsing. “Keep trying until you’re round and swollen with my baby, sweetheart.”
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contact-guy · 8 months
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I was seized with a fervor and could not rest until I illustrated one of my favorite scenes from Sherlock Holmes: the Adventure of the Devil's Foot. While Holmes and Watson take a holiday in the Cornish countryside for Holmes's health, multiple people in the nearby village are found driven mad or dead from horror. Holmes deduces a substance that was burned in their presence is to blame. With a bit of the mysterious powder and a gas lamp in hand, he proposes an experiment to Watson...
content warning for drug use!
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I'm not sure if it's supported by the canon but in my mind this is the first time Holmes ever apologies to Watson and he is so overcome with emotion that he immediately makes it weird
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"It is not for me, my dear Watson, to stand in the way of the official police force. I leave them all the evidence which I found. The poison still remained upon the talc had they the wit to find it. Now, Watson, we will light our lamp; we will, however, take the precaution to open our window to avoid the premature decease of two deserving members of society, and you will seat yourself near that open window in an armchair unless, like a sensible man, you determine to have nothing to do with the affair. Oh, you will see it out, will you? I thought I knew my Watson. This chair I will place opposite yours, so that we may be the same distance from the poison and face to face. The door we will leave ajar. Each is now in a position to watch the other and to bring the experiment to an end should the symptoms seem alarming. Is that all clear? Well, then, I take our powder--or what remains of it--from the envelope, and I lay it above the burning lamp. So! Now, Watson, let us sit down and await developments."
They were not long in coming. I had hardly settled in my chair before I was conscious of a thick, musky odour, subtle and nauseous. At the very first whiff of it my brain and my imagination were beyond all control. A thick, black cloud swirled before my eyes, and my mind told me that in this cloud, unseen as yet, but about to spring out upon my appalled senses, lurked all that was vaguely horrible, all that was monstrous and inconceivably wicked in the universe. Vague shapes swirled and swam amid the dark cloud-bank, each a menace and a warning of something coming, the advent of some unspeakable dweller upon the threshold, whose very shadow would blast my soul. A freezing horror took possession of me. I felt that my hair was rising, that my eyes were protruding, that my mouth was opened, and my tongue like leather. The turmoil within my brain was such that something must surely snap. I tried to scream and was vaguely aware of some hoarse croak which was my own voice, but distant and detached from myself. At the same moment, in some effort of escape, I broke through that cloud of despair and had a glimpse of Holmes's face, white, rigid, and drawn with horror--the very look which I had seen upon the features of the dead. It was that vision which gave me an instant of sanity and of strength. I dashed from my chair, threw my arms round Holmes, and together we lurched through the door, and an instant afterwards had thrown ourselves down upon the grass plot and were lying side by side, conscious only of the glorious sunshine which was bursting its way through the hellish cloud of terror which had girt us in. Slowly it rose from our souls like the mists from a landscape until peace and reason had returned, and we were sitting upon the grass, wiping our clammy foreheads, and looking with apprehension at each other to mark the last traces of that terrific experience which we had undergone.
"Upon my word, Watson!" said Holmes at last with an unsteady voice, "I owe you both my thanks and an apology. It was an unjustifiable experiment even for one's self, and doubly so for a friend. I am really very sorry."
"You know," I answered with some emotion, for I have never seen so much of Holmes's heart before, "that it is my greatest joy and privilege to help you."
He relapsed at once into the half-humorous, half-cynical vein which was his habitual attitude to those about him. "It would be superfluous to drive us mad, my dear Watson," said he. "A candid observer would certainly declare that we were so already before we embarked upon so wild an experiment. I confess that I never imagined that the effect could be so sudden and so severe." He dashed into the cottage, and, reappearing with the burning lamp held at full arm's length, he threw it among a bank of brambles. "We must give the room a little time to clear. I take it, Watson, that you have no longer a shadow of a doubt as to how these tragedies were produced?"
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theostrophywife · 3 months
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HEART ON MY SLEEVE
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🤍 pairing: mattheo riddle x reader.
🤍 song inspiration: friends by chase atlantic.
🤍 author's note: the duality of man. this fic serves both cute, fluffy matty and jealous, possessive mattheo.
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For his upcoming birthday, Mattheo Riddle had one simple wish: for his best friends to get along. 
It shouldn’t have been such an ordeal except for the fact that you and Theo absolutely hated each other. If it weren’t for Mattheo, the two of you would have no reason to cross paths. Theo was an arrogant, pompous, quidditch playing prick with a terrible nicotine addiction while the closest you’d come to physical exertion is carrying your weekly stack of books from the library to your dorm. 
Needless to say, you were not a fan of Theodore Nott. You thought he was a bad influence on Matty, while Theo labeled you as the buzzkill, often talking your best friend out of doing things that would either land him in detention or the infirmary. You got the feeling that Theo hated the fact that he had to share Mattheo’s attention with you. Never mind the fact that you were friends with him first. 
The origin of your friendship started long before your days at Hogwarts. The first time you met Mattheo, his father invited you and your parents over at Riddle Manor to celebrate a successful business deal between your families. Even at a young age, you remembered recognizing the coldness and distance in the Riddle household. The elder riddle, Tom Sr., was a stern and unforgiving man who kept his family under his thumb. Tom Jr. played the perfect heir; cool, calm, and collected as he stood by his father’s side. Mrs. Riddle had a severe and somber air about her that sent shivers down your spine as she flashed an empty smile at you. 
Mattheo was different from the rest. There was a warmth to him that radiated outwards, pulling you in with his cheeky dimpled smile and soft bouncing curls. He marched right up to you, bowing at the waist like he was taught to, except he nearly tripped over his feet and gave you a crooked little grin before correcting himself. 
“Hi, Y/N. I’m Mattheo, but you can call me Matt.” There was a mischievous glint in his brown eyes that you didn’t recognize as trouble until much later. “Do you want to play with me?” 
As it turns out, his definition of playing meant chasing each other through the hedge maze out on the manor grounds and absolutely dirtying up your pretty pink dress as you rolled around in the grass. You laid side by side on your backs, giggling as you tucked a flower into Mattheo’s curls. 
“You’re going to get me in trouble, you know,” you stated matter-of-factly as you rolled over on your elbows. “My dress is all dirty.” 
“Don’t worry, we can ask Tom to help us. He knows lots of spells and hexes.” He leaned in conspiratorially, holding his pinky finger out. “But you have to keep it a secret, okay? Can I trust you, Y/N?” 
You hooked your finger through his, not knowing that such a simple secret would forever solidify your friendship. “You can trust me, Matty.” 
In the years that followed, the two of you were as thick as thieves. Most days were spent at either the Riddle manor or your estate, which Mattheo tended to prefer since it provided him reprieve from his father. As of late, his parents had made it perfectly clear that he was expected to follow in his brother's footsteps. Despite it being Tom's first year at Hogwarts, he was already proving to be a gifted and talented wizard. When his father wasn't outright ignoring him, Mattheo was forced to practice hexes and spells that were beyond the knowledge of an eleven year old. Without his older brother to protect him, Mattheo felt the walls closing in in his grand yet inhospitable home.
You were the only silver lining in his otherwise dreary days. Mattheo thanked Merlin that his father allowed visits to your estate. Unlike Riddle Manor, your family home was warm, lovely, and full of life. During the summers, the two of you would venture out to the edge of your property and set up camp at the creek. The sunny days were spent swimming, climbing, and picking flowers from sunrise to sunset. On one particular day, you sat cross-legged on the picnic blanket, absentmindedly picking at the sandwich in your lap. 
Beside you, Mattheo nudged you with his knee. “What’s wrong, Y/N?”
You blinked, trying to savor the sunshine for as long as you could. “I don’t want summer to end.” 
“We’ll only be apart for a year,” Mattheo said softly, correctly guessing the cause of your apprehension. You weren’t surprised. He always seemed to know what was on your mind. “You’ll be joining me at Hogwarts before you know it. By then, I’ll be an expert so I can show you the ropes.” 
“A lot can happen in a year,” you stated. “What if you make other friends and forget about me?” 
“I might make other friends, but I’d never forget about you. You were my first friend ever. That makes you the most important.” 
You looked up and found yourself face to face with Mattheo’s earnest expression. The corners of his lips tugged upwards as he nudged you again. “Besides, you know I’m going to write to you every week. Now that I’m in the same castle as Malfoy, I can finally crack the great mystery of whether or not he bleaches his hair.” 
“There’s no way that’s natural, right? Maybe Lucius has a special shampoo or something.”
Mattheo grinned and draped an arm over your shoulder. “I don’t know, but I promise to find out for you.” 
“You’ll really write to me every week?” 
“Of course I will,” Mattheo declared, holding his pinky finger out. “You trust me, right?” 
You smiled and hooked your pinkies together. “I trust you, Matty.” 
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When the next year finally rolled around, you were so excited that you convinced your parents to take you to King’s Cross at least an hour before your departure. You hadn’t seen Mattheo since the previous summer because his family had been away on holiday in Spain, but he stayed true to his word and wrote to you every chance he got. You loved reading about the friends he’d made, the antics he got up to, and most importantly, the fascinating classes that awaited you at Hogwarts. 
As you passed through Platform 9 ¾, you were nearly knocked off your feet as Mattheo ran full force into you. He had grown much taller since you last saw him, so much so that he now towered over you as he pulled you into a bear hug. 
“Hi, Matty,” you giggled against his chest. 
“Hi, Y/N.” 
Mattheo pulled away, grinning as he tugged at your hand. “Come on, I want you to meet my friends.” 
You looked back at your parents who merely smiled at Mattheo’s excitement. To his chagrin, your best friend remembered to properly greet them and asked if you could board the train early. After much fussing, they eventually said their goodbyes and allowed you to go with Mattheo. 
The first friend that you met was Enzo. He was sweet, if not a little cheeky as he hinted that Mattheo couldn’t stop talking about you all year. Draco and Blaise needed no introduction given that your families were all fairly acquainted ever since you could remember. To your delight, Pansy was amongst the group as well. The two of you used to take ballet together, so it was a relief to have another girl to bond with. The older boys, Tom and Regulus, briefly greeted you before returning to their own cabin. 
Last, but not least, was Theodore. 
Whereas the others welcomed you with open arms, Nott was not as warm in his reception of you. The two of you clashed right off the bat. You weren’t quite sure what the root of your disagreement was. Perhaps it was his snarky comment insinuating that girls couldn’t be proper quidditch fans in reference to your Chudley Cannons scarf, perhaps it was your biting retort that he could stick his misogyny up his arse. Either way, the interaction set the tone for your strained relationship. 
Being sorted into Gryffindor only contributed to the animosity between you as well. Given the longstanding rivalry of Slytherins and Gryffindors, Theo was determined to view you as his enemy. The harder you fought, the harder Mattheo tried to repair the rift. You were the two most important people in his life and he couldn’t stand to see you two tear each other apart. 
For the most part, you tried to grin and bear it. While you couldn’t for the life of you understand how or why he was even friends with someone as unbearable as Theodore Nott, you tried to be civil for Mattheo’s sake. Tried being the key word. With Theo’s snark and your temper, the two of you became known for your infamous fights. Still, it didn’t stop your best friend from trying. 
Over the years, Mattheo concocted countless plots and schemes to get the two of you to bond. If his favorite band was playing in town, he would magically have two extra tickets to bring both you and Theo along. If there was a book release you were dying to attend, Mattheo would invite Theo along to check out the record store next door. If the castle was dead during the weekend, Mattheo would suggest a trio trip to Hogsmeade. 
As much as you cared for Mattheo, your patience only stretched so thin. Without fail, every outing that the three of you went on almost always ended in an argument between you and Theo. 
“I don’t know how you’re friends with both of us, Mattheo,” Theo joked as he gulped down his burger. “I’m fun and Y/N is —”
“Finish that sentence and I’ll stick my fork right through your hand, Nott,” you threatened with a sickly sweet smile. 
The hostility wasn’t anything new, but you supposed that after dealing with it for years and years on end, Mattheo had finally reached his breaking point. 
Your best friend pushed his plate away and sighed. “Let’s just go.” 
You nodded in agreement, gathering your things and following Mattheo’s lead. Theo trailed after, obnoxiously squeezing his way through the door of the Three Broomsticks and letting it close behind him. You yanked it open, nearly pulling the bloody thing off its hinges. 
“How very mature of you. Though I’m not surprised that you don’t know how to hold a door open for a lady.”
Theo looked back, craning his neck behind you. “As far as I’m concerned, there aren’t any ladies around. Just an infuriating little Gryffindor who can’t handle not having the last word.” 
“I’m infuriating?” You huffed, crossing your arms. “Clearly you’ve never suffered through the pleasure of your own company. Spoiler alert, the snarky arsehole bit stopped being funny in third year.” 
“Well, the uptight and bossy bitch bit wasn’t ever funny to begin with.” 
“Enough already,” Mattheo yelled. You reeled back in surprise. Usually, your best friend just let you and Theo fight it out until you both got tired of it, but he wasn’t having it tonight. “You two are the most important people in my life, but you’re acting like bloody toddlers. I’m tired of feeling like I have to choose a side, so either you two find a way to get along or risk losing me as a friend.” 
For the first time since you met him, you and Theo were both stunned into silence. Mattheo took one last look at his closest friends and marched off into the castle without a word. 
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The next day, you woke up feeling weary. You hardly slept last night given Mattheo’s ultimatum. Your best friend wasn’t the type to make declarations like that lightly, so you knew he meant it. Especially since he went straight to his dorm without coming over to watch a movie or talk late into the night like the two of you often did. 
The suspicion was all but confirmed when you sat through a particularly awkward and tense breakfast. Mattheo briefly acknowledged you with a nod, not bothering to speak as he cranked up the music on his headphones. As the Smiths crooned, you looked up at Theo who shook his head at your inquisitive glance. You knew that Mattheo had most likely given him the silent treatment last night as well. 
Despite the fact that you and Mattheo had very similar schedules, he managed to avoid you throughout the entire day. By the time the last class rolled around, you knew that he was serious about you and Theo making up. It was a hard pill to swallow. Truly, you’d rather ingest a pill the size of a hippogriff than make amends with Nott, but it wasn’t like you had a choice. You didn’t want to lose Mattheo. 
Deciding to be the bigger person, you went to the one place that you knew Theo frequented. You found him sitting alone in the Astronomy Tower, long legs dangling below him as he smoked a cigarette. Biting back a comment about the death trap pursed between his lips, you cleared your throat. 
“Mind if I sit?” 
Theo tensed as he looked up at you. He wore the sneer that he solely reserved for you, but his eyes were dull and dim. The argument with Mattheo obviously left him feeling lost as well. 
“Do I have a choice?” You glared in response, but took a deep breath to calm yourself. Theo winced. “Sorry. Force of habit. Sit, I guess.” 
Gingerly, you settled in the spot next to him. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” 
“He wouldn’t talk to me last night,” Theo confirmed as he ashed his cigarette. “Just put on his headphones and went to sleep facing the wall.” 
“He’s been avoiding me all day.” 
Theo sighed. “What are we going to do?” 
“Look,” you started, trying to muster up the strength to propose your next statement. “Obviously, we hate each other, but Mattheo’s important to me and I know he’s important to you, too. So for his sake, can’t we just put all this animosity behind us and try to get along?” 
“What exactly does getting along mean?” 
You shrugged. To be honest, you had no idea how to approach the situation, but you figured you had to start somewhere. “I don’t know. Maybe we can grab a bite to eat. Make polite small talk. Try not to strangle each other in the process.” 
“I guess I can do that,” Theo conceded. “Why don’t we go to the new pub in the village? I heard they have fried pickles.” 
You perked up. “You like pickles? I thought I was the only one.” 
“I don’t just like pickles. I love them,” Theo stated. 
“Me too,” you grinned. “Mattheo always gives me his cause he says —”
“They taste like feet,” he finished with a chuckle. 
You nodded, laughing along. “Well, what are we waiting for, then?” 
Theo watched as you stood, smoothing the front of your skirt. You offered a hand out to him, both literally and figuratively. To your surprise, Theo took the peace offering and let you pull him to his feet. 
An hour later, the two of you were squeezed into a tiny booth by the makeshift stage. The pub was lively tonight and nearly packed to the brim, thanks to the happy hour deal on their drinks and appetizers in honor of their grand opening. 
The pickles didn’t disappoint. You ate a good amount, but Theo scarfed the whole thing down like he hadn’t eaten in months. As he finished a sandwich and gulped the meal down with his second butterbeer, you gaped in surprise. 
“Honestly, where do you put it all?” 
Theo patted his stomach, which was unfairly flat and probably housed perfectly sculpted abs despite his eating habits. “I’m a growing boy. I need to eat a lot to offset the energy I expend. Especially when I’m sparring with you.” 
“Oddly enough, I’m flattered by that.” 
“You should be,” Theo quipped. “I’ve never had to put so much thought into insulting someone until I met you.” 
“I bet you were pissed when I took your crown as the sassiest and bitchiest person in our friend group.” 
“I’ve never experienced such heartbreak,” Theo said sarcastically as he placed a hand over his heart. “I mean, to be dethroned by someone who can’t even reach the top shelf in the cupboard was truly the most humbling moment of my life.” 
“Well, you shouldn’t have assumed that I knew nothing about quidditch just because I’m a girl.” 
“I was a dick for that,” Theo admitted. “But I was also twelve. I didn’t even know what misogyny meant. I thought you were describing a disease.” 
You snorted. “Well, the past is in the past. Even though I clearly won that argument, we should put it behind us.” 
Theo rolled his eyes, but clinked his butterbeer against yours. “Cheers to that, Y/N.” 
Surprisingly, you found that you and Theo had a lot more in common than you initially thought. When he wasn’t being a prick, he was actually quite nice to talk to. In a single conversation, you learned more about Theo than you had in years. The two of you possessed a knack for potions, preferred foreign literature, and shared a love for horror movies. 
As the live band went on, Theo mumbled an obscure reference to an eighties muggle band that your mum used to blast when you were younger. 
“I can’t believe they’re covering this song,” you shouted over the music. “I haven’t heard it in years.” 
Theo’s eyes widened in surprise. “You know this song?” 
“Of course I do,” you retorted. “Mattheo says I have the music taste of a divorced country club trophy wife.” 
“You and me both.” 
By the end of the night, you found plenty of common ground with the boy you once thought of as your enemy. It was quite alarming to realize that you hadn’t argued once all night and even more so when you found yourself actually enjoying Theo’s company. Maybe Mattheo was right after all. When you stopped viewing Theo as competition, he was actually not that bad. You now understood what Mattheo meant when he said that you and Theo were more alike than you cared to admit.
On the walk back to the castle, Theo pulled out a spliff but glanced at you before lighting it. “Do you mind if I smoke?” 
“Knock yourself out.” 
The moon was silver and bright against the cloudless sky as the two of you sauntered through the beaten path. You listened to Theo recount Tom’s disastrous attempts at asking Chloe out, all the while giggling to yourself because he was a bigger gossip than you and Pansy put together. 
“Don’t let Tom hear you talking about his love life,” you teased. “He’d probably feed you to his basilisk.” 
Theo grimaced. “Half of Hogwarts would weep at the loss of such a handsome face.” 
“However will we survive without your wit and charm, Nott?” 
He chuckled as he blew a ring of smoke up into the sky. You watched it float before holding your hand out. “Care to share?” 
“I didn’t know you smoked.” 
“Who do you think taught Mattheo how to roll his first blunt?” 
Theo stared in disbelief as you took the spliff, inhaling deeply. You held the smoke in your lungs effortlessly before blowing rings of smoke in quick succession. 
“Damn,” the brown haired boy exclaimed. “Who the hell are you, Y/N?”
You smirked as you tapped the joint. “Someone much cooler than you, Theo.” 
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After that night, you and Theo got on more and more. The banter and bickering was still there, but it was more playful now. Mattheo was glad to see his two best friends getting along so well. Since first year, it was all he had ever wanted. 
The days of forcing you two to hang out together was long gone. Now, you were practically as attached to the hip with Theo as you were with Mattheo. 
When Mattheo went up to the Astronomy Tower for a smoke break, he would find you sitting cross-legged across from Theo as he filled you in on the catfight between Lavender and Cho. When Mattheo visited you at the library during his free period, Theo was already there working on his History of Magic homework beside you. When Mattheo arrived at the Great Hall for assembly, he slid into the seat next to Theo as his friend craned his neck to peer at the crowd. 
“Looking for someone, mate?” 
“Yeah, Y/N said she was running late,” Theo answered distractedly. “I saved a seat for her.” 
At first, Mattheo loved the fact that you put your differences behind you and became such great friends like he always knew you would, but as time went along, your best friend noticed that you and Theo were becoming a little too close. 
On one occasion, Mattheo briefly excused himself from the common room party for a smoke only to come back to find you and Theo annihilating Draco and Blaise at butterbeer pong. He walked in right as you made the winning shot, witnessing Theo picking you up and twirling you around as Malfoy stomped off, grumbling something about an unfair play. A cheat of sorts. 
Mattheo couldn’t help but agree. Seeing you in Theo’s arms felt like cheating. The whole thing made him feel strange. It didn’t help that every time the three of you hung out, Mattheo noticed that you and Theo now had little inside jokes and references that he didn’t understand. Being jealous of his best mate was ridiculous, but yet he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that only grew stronger with each passing day. 
As you grew closer, Mattheo felt stranger. One morning, he nearly smashed his muffin to pieces when he saw you wearing Theo’s hoodie. 
“Why are you wearing that?” he asked through clenched teeth. 
You looked down in surprise as though you’d forgotten that you were wearing another man’s clothes. “Oh, I was cold so Theo let me borrow his hoodie.”
Mattheo frowned before pulling his sweater over his head. “Here, wear mine instead. It’s warmer.” 
The gesture was confusing, but you merely shrugged and exchanged Theo’s hoodie for Mattheo’s sweater. “Thanks, Matty.” 
Later that week, Mattheo found you in the stands in your usual spot before the game. He smiled when he saw his number painted on your right cheek. The brief moment of happiness was shattered when you turned and revealed that you had also painted Theo’s number on your left cheek. Mattheo nearly fell off of his broom. He was used to seeing his and only his number on you. First the hoodie, now this? 
The green monster reared its ugly head during the game itself, motivating him to play as brutally as possible. The Hufflepuffs weren’t safe from his rage and neither were his teammates. As he soared around the goalpost, he hurled the quaffle as hard as he could, fully knowing that Theo was within the ball’s radius. Thankfully for him, Theo ducked at the last second before shooting a baffled glance at his friend. Mattheo simply ignored it and kept playing. 
Despite their sweeping win, the bad mood failed to lift. Mattheo frowned as he slipped into the booth next to you, glaring at Theo’s head as the two of them sandwiched you on both sides. Across the table, the rest of the team sipped their celebratory milkshakes. 
The waitress set down a vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate milkshake in front of the three of you. Mattheo watched as you and Theo tasted your drinks before promptly taking out the straw and switching flavors. 
“Told you that you’d like strawberry more,” Theo said with a fond eye roll. 
“But vanilla sounded good.” 
“Everything sounds good at the moment, but you always go back to your favorite.” 
Mattheo clenched his jaw as you stuck your tongue out at Theo before turning towards him. “Aren’t you going to drink your milkshake, Matty?” 
“I don’t really have much of an appetite.” 
“Maybe it’s just the chocolate. Do you wanna try mine?” 
He shook his head, crossing his arms. “No, that’s Theo’s milkshake.” 
“Oh, well if you want the vanilla one instead, I can switch back.” 
Mattheo wrinkled his nose. “No thanks, Theo’s mouth has already been on it.” 
“Consider it a privilege,” Theo butted in. “Most girls and boys at this school would kill to swap spit with me.” 
“I’ll pass.” 
You cocked your head at your best friend, looking concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay, Matty?” 
He nodded rather unconvincingly. “I’m fine.”
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As weeks passed, Mattheo only grew more jealous. 
Granted, he was fully aware that he had no right to feel this way given the fact that he had practically pushed you and Theo together, but he just couldn’t help himself. The closer you grew, the more he regretted giving the two of you an ultimatum in the first place. 
Before you became friends with Theo, Mattheo never had to share you with anyone. He realized now how much he had taken it for granted. Your best friend missed the times that the two of you spent alone. He missed having you all to himself. Mattheo was determined to get it back one way or another. 
When Saturday night rolled around, Mattheo made his way up to Gryffindor Tower, glaring at anyone who balked at the sight of him on this side of the castle. After shoving McLaggen out of the way, Mattheo made his way up to the highest turret and let himself into your dorm. 
You were perched in front of the vanity table, swiping your signature cherry lip gloss on in the mirror. Mattheo made himself at home, sprawling out on your bed. He knew you had plans tonight, but he was hoping to convince you to hang out with him instead. Mattheo eyed your dress, his gaze sweeping along the red fabric like a lover’s embrace. You flushed at the intensity of his stare as his brown eyes flickered back up to your face. 
“Why can’t you hang out tonight?” Mattheo asked with a pout. “Are you going on a date? Is that why you’re leaving your best friend alone to perish?” 
You shook your head in amusement before leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t be so dramatic, Matty. I’m not going on a date. Theo and I are just checking out this new band.” 
Mattheo stiffened as you sprayed perfume on your wrists. “Why didn’t you invite me?” 
“Theo did. He said you weren’t interested in listening to country club wife music.” 
While that may be true, Mattheo would’ve gone if he knew you were coming too. “He didn’t tell me he was going with you.” 
“Probably because he knew you’d feel obligated to go,” you responded. “But it’s alright, we won’t make you suffer through it. Theo will keep the creeps away.” 
Mattheo did not like the sound of that. It was his job to watch over you, not Theo’s. Besides, he never thought of it as an obligation. Even if he wasn’t a fan of the music, he loved watching you jump around and have the time of your life. Spending time with you was the only reason why he insisted on coming to every concert. Keeping the creeps away was just an added bonus. 
Now, Theo was taking away both. The realization put him in a foul mood, but he couldn’t let it show. He wanted you to have a good time, even if it wasn’t with him. 
“Okay, but can we at least watch a movie and cuddle when you get back?” 
“We’re going to be out pretty late. I don’t want you to lose sleep because of me. I know you have a Charms exam tomorrow morning, but I promise we can have a movie night tomorrow.” 
Mattheo only nodded as you patted his curls and kissed his cheek again. He watched as you left your dorm, frowning into the mirror as he touched the two cherry gloss marks on his face. 
The kiss prints were already fading, serving as some sort of sick metaphor. 
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To your credit, you did make good on your promise on movie night. It had been a while since the two of you hung out alone, which is definitely the only reason why Mattheo felt needier and clingier than usual. While his touchiness wasn’t anything new, he seemed determined to make it obvious to those around you. Especially with Theo. 
During breakfast, Mattheo silently laid his head on your shoulder and placed your hand atop his curls. Across the table, Theo continued gnawing away at his croissant while you told him about the new horror movie that had apparently been banned in twenty countries. 
“I wanna watch it,” Mattheo mumbled as you scratched his head. 
“But you hate horror,” Theo responded. 
“So? I still want to see it.” 
“I’ll ask my mum if she can send me a copy this weekend,” you said as you playfully tugged at his curls. “We can watch it in your dorm, okay?” 
He leaned in, nuzzling against your neck. “Just the two of us?”
“Of course, Matty.” 
Mattheo brightened at that, happy with your response. Perhaps it was petty of him, but he didn’t care. He wanted to send a message. You and Theo could be friends, but he’d always be the most important person in your life. Mattheo was your person, just like you were his. 
The others were beginning to pick up on things, despite his constant denial. It was sort of a moot point anyways, given the fact that he was single handedly proving them right with his actions. Nowadays, your friends would find Mattheo lounging on your lap, wedging himself in the small space on the common room couch just so that he was next to you instead of Theo. 
Every time you went out to Hogsmeade, he’d make a point of holding your hand and carrying your bags. Mattheo would stop mid-conversation and rub your cold hands in his, blowing on your fingers because he knows how cold you get even in the heated pub. 
“Your hands are cold. Let me heat them up, princess.” 
As you blushed, Enzo would shoot Mattheo a knowing look, which he deflected by focusing all his attention on you. Even Tom made a passing comment at all the sickening nicknames Mattheo had taken to calling you lately. 
“Hi, sweetheart. Is this seat taken?” 
“Morning, love. Do you want to go for a walk with me?” 
“Here, give me your bag. I’ll carry it for you, darling.” 
Though his older brother might disagree with his methods, Mattheo was quite convinced that it was working. Until it wasn’t. 
During the last week of December, you and Theo began acting strangely. Every time he walked into a room, the two of you would fall uncharacteristically silent. When he tried to bring it up, you evaded his questions and changed the subject instead. The secrecy didn’t sit well with him. 
After the last class of the day, Mattheo usually walked with you to the library, but every time he tried to find you that week, you had all but disappeared.
“Berkshire, have you seen Y/N?” 
“Oh yeah, she left with Theo a few minutes ago. Seemed urgent.” 
“Did they say where they were going?” 
Enzo shrugged nonchalantly. “No clue, mate.” 
Frustrated, Mattheo walked away before succumbing to the urge to throttle his friend. It wasn’t Enzo’s fault that you and Theo were acting so weird. Throughout the week, Theo would be out of their dorm for hours and hours. Sometimes he wouldn’t even come back until the wee hours of the night. 
When Mattheo checked your dorm, you were also nowhere to be found. He was trying his best not to spiral, but the nagging suspicion that the two of you were hiding something from him was too big to ignore. It was all but confirmed when he caught you sneaking out of the dungeons one night. 
You poked your head out from behind a marble column, watching students pass. Clearly, you didn’t want anyone to know that you were down here. Unfortunately for you, Mattheo had already seen you. 
“What are you doing here, Y/N?” 
His voice startled you, making you jump a step back as you glanced up at him with a nervous expression. “Oh! Hi, Matty. I was just — I was just, um, walking back to my dorm.” 
“I can see that, but what were you doing in the dungeons?’ 
“Just…hanging out…”
Mattheo could feel his blood boiling. “With Theo?” 
You gulped, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, he had my book.” 
“So where is it?” 
“Where’s what?” 
“Your book.” 
“Oh,” you said softly, avoiding his gaze. It was a tell-tale sign that you weren’t being honest. You always looked away when you were lying. “I guess I forgot.” 
“You forgot the thing that you came down here for?” 
“Hm? Did you hear that?” You mumbled, despite the fact that the corridor was silent. “I think Pansy’s calling me. I gotta go, Matty. See you later!” 
Your best friend watched as you sauntered off to Salazar knows where with a frown. Confused, Mattheo walked back to his dorm and found the answer to his dreaded question. As soon as he opened the door, the familiar scent of strawberry and vanilla filled the air. Mattheo felt downright murderous. That was your perfume. He’d recognize it anywhere. 
Mattheo glared at his best friend, who was laying in bed with a book perched on his chest. He eyed the rumpled sheets and Theo’s disheveled hair while trying not to assume the worst. 
“Is that the book Y/N lent you?” 
“Huh? What book?” 
Though he wanted very much to punch his mate’s teeth in, Mattheo restrained himself. “The book she came down here to get.” 
“She wasn’t here for —” Theo closed his mouth before nodding reluctantly. “Oh, right. Yeah. This is Y/N’s book. I should — I should return it.” 
“You’re acting weird, Nott. Both of you are.” Mattheo narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What the bloody hell is going on?” 
“Blase? Yeah, be right there, mate! I’d love to stay and chat, but duty calls. See you later, man.” 
Theo hightailed it out of the dorm, responding to an imaginary summon. Y/N and Theo. Theo and Y/N. His two closest friends. Sneaking around. Lying to him. Fooling around in his dorm. Mattheo didn’t know how to feel. He was angry, he was sad, but most of all, he was hurt. His girl and his best friend? It was the ultimate betrayal. 
Never mind that Mattheo had spent the past decade denying his feelings for you. Anyone with an ounce of common sense could see that he’d been in love with you since you were children. It was clear as fucking day. 
When Friday rolled around, Mattheo decided that enough was enough. He was going to confront the two of you. After quidditch practice, he followed Theo through the castle. The git buggered off to some dark, secluded area of the school that Mattheo had never stepped foot in. He kept a safe distance, peering around the corner when he heard whispered voices. 
“I’m telling you, he’s getting suspicious,” Theo whispered frantically. “He asked why our dorm smelled like you. I didn’t know what to say, so I bolted!” 
His heart dropped when he heard you sigh in frustration. “For Merlin’s sake, Theo! You couldn’t make up an excuse?” 
“Me? You were the one who got caught sneaking out of the dungeons. It’s not like you’re an expert on stealth, either.” 
“You know I can’t lie to him,” you exclaimed. “I’ve never been able to, ever since we were little. He knows all my tells. But, Theo, he absolutely cannot find out about this!” 
Mattheo didn’t need to hear the rest. His heart had already been crushed into a thousand pieces. He couldn't believe it. The two of you were supposed to be his best friends, yet here you were keeping this terrible secret from him. 
For the rest of the night, he sulked in his room. He was in the middle of brooding while listening to the Smiths when he heard a knock. 
“Piss off!” 
“It’s me.” 
Part of him wanted to send you away, but a bigger part — the stupid, idiotic, part of him couldn’t. With a sigh, Mattheo peeled himself off the carpet and opened the door. Since the secret rendezvous with Theo, you had apparently found time to get dolled up and changed into a pretty party dress. 
Mattheo frowned and crossed his arms. “Theo’s not here.” 
You frowned, cocking your head in confusion. “I’m not here for Theo.” 
He scoffed in response. “You don’t have to lie to me anymore. I know.” 
“You know what, Matty?” 
“I know that you and Theo are…sneaking around. Lying to me. Hooking up behind my back.” 
“What on Godric’s green earth are you talking about?” 
“Don’t try to deny it. I heard you in the corridor upstairs. I’ve had my suspicions all week. The two of you have been acting weird and avoiding me. More than that, you have your own stupid little inside jokes and you take him to concerts and you share milkshakes! Those are things we used to do together, but now you’ve gone and replaced me.” 
“The only reason Theo and I became friends is because you asked us to., Mattheo.” 
“I know that!” Mattheo exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration. “I regret it so much. I wanted you to get along, but not like this. Now Theo’s making you laugh and walking you to class and doing god knows what else with you in our dorm!” 
Your features softened as you tried to reach for Mattheo, but he took a step back. “Don’t try to deny it! I know you were in here the night I caught you sneaking out of the dungeons. I could smell your perfume.” 
Realization flooded you all at once. “Are you…are you jealous, Matty?” 
Your best friend crossed his arms and huffed. “Of course I’m jealous! I don’t want you doing any of those things with Theo. You’re my best friend. Mine, not his. I had you first. I loved you first.” 
The confession stunned you into silence. You blinked, processing the information before holding your hand out. “Come.” 
Mattheo looked like he was about to argue, but you just stared at him with determination. “Just come with me, Matty. I promise it’ll all make sense in a minute.” 
The logical side of him wanted to refuse, but he knew it would be futile. Mattheo would’ve ripped his heart out of his chest if you asked him to. You were his weak spot. 
Following you out into the corridor, Mattheo staggered a few steps back as you slipped into the dark and empty common room. With a snap of your fingers, the lights came on and voices echoed in unison. 
“Happy birthday, Mattheo!” 
Startled, Mattheo blinked at the sight before him. The common room was decorated with streamers and confetti, complete with a bright birthday banner that covered nearly half the room. There were tables filled with food and drinks, all of which were his favorites. All of his friends were present, including Tom, who stood to the side with his arms crossed. The pretty blonde beside him — Chloe, the girl Theo swore his brother was in love with — elbowed Tom, who sighed and flashed Mattheo a rare smile. Now that was something he needed to revisit at a later time.
For now, one shocking revelation was enough to deal with.
“Surprise!” You exclaimed beside him as you pulled him into a hug. 
At first, he was too stunned to return the gesture, but eventually he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a bear hug. With everything going on, Mattheo nearly forgot his own birthday, but he knew that you wouldn't. You did all of this. For him. 
When you broke apart, Theo clapped him on the back. “Happy birthday, mate.” Relief washed over his friend’s face as he spoke the words. “Thank fucking Salazar that Y/N pulled this off. Hiding this from you for a week has been absolute hell.”
“So…this is what you two have been up to?” 
You nodded in confirmation. “Mhm, Theo and I spent all week planning it. We wanted everything to be perfect.” 
“But it was hard because you were being such a nosy little git,” said Theo.  
The pieces started to click together. All that secrecy between his two best friends hadn’t meant what he thought it did. “So you two aren’t…you haven’t…you’re not hooking up behind my back?”
You and Theo stared at each other in horror. 
“Ew!” Theo dramatically exclaimed. “Y/N is like my sister. You don’t hook up with your sister. That’s gross.” 
“But I thought…you were hanging out together so much and you had all these jokes and it seemed like…”
“Please,” Theo scoffed. “Anyone with half a brain cell can see that you two are clearly in love with each other.” 
“Surprised you figured it out then, Theo,” you quipped.
The brunette rolled his eyes at you before breaking out into a shit-eating grin. "Wait. Is that why you've been acting like such a twat lately? You thought I was making a move on your girl?" Theo's eyes widened as Mattheo shifted uncomfortably. "I'm right, aren't I? First of all, I'm flattered that you felt threatened by me."
"Threatened is a strong word," Mattheo countered.
"Please, you nearly took my head off with a quaffle." Theo wiggled his eyebrows. "Second of all, I'm quite frankly offended that you'd think I'd ever go for Y/N. I would never break your trust like that."
"I know, I know." Mattheo said with a sigh. "I was being stupid, but for a second I was truly convinced that something was going on between you two. I mean, you've been hanging out so much lately..."
“Matty, do you even know what we talk about when we hang out? You. It’s always about you. You were right that we both have a lot in common. We were just too stubborn to see it, but the main thing that brought us together is that we care about you so much.” 
“Well, Y/N cares for you a lot more,” Theo teased with a smirk. “She’d like to care for you all night long.”
You flushed as deep and red as your party dress. “Oh my gods. Shut up, Theo!” 
“My work here is done. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to hit on that Ravenclaw who looks like she wants absolutely nothing to do with me.” 
“Sorry about him,” you said as you turned back to Mattheo. “And sorry that we’ve been acting so shady all week. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t suspect anything.”
Mattheo chuckled. “Well, consider me surprised.” 
You wrinkled your nose in disgust. “I can’t believe you thought I was hooking up with Theo.” 
With a boyish grin, Mattheo pulled you to his side and kissed your temple. “I’m sorry, princess. Jealousy just got the best of me.” 
“There’s no need to be jealous. If it wasn’t already obvious, I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.” 
“I’m a bloody idiot.” 
“Yeah, but you’re my idiot.” 
Mattheo beamed and kissed the tip of your nose. “Thank you for doing all of this for me.” 
You smiled softly, cheeks heating as he stared at you with bright, brown eyes. “Course, Matty, I just want you to have the best birthday.” 
With a smile, Mattheo leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against your lips. There was something familiar about the gesture, like the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place. Kissing Mattheo was as natural as breathing. It felt like coming home. 
“Wish granted, princess.” 
Later that night when he blew out his candles, Mattheo didn’t bother wishing for anything. You leaned into him as he hooked his pinkie through yours, making a silent promise. Even if it took a little jealousy for him to realize it, Mattheo embraced the truth wholeheartedly. You were his person and he was yours. As the flames died out, he smiled.
Mattheo Riddle had no use for wishes now that he had you. 
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