#i’d be scared he’d hate me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

freedomfireflies · 5 months

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Outlawed*

Summary: The fifth and final part to Knockout*

The one where Harry just wants to fight, and you just want to love him.

Word Count: 10k (folks...we made it!)

Content Warning: 18+, smut, blood, violence, brief use of a knife, pain kink, size kink

“Cherry?”

Instantly, your head lifts. The familiarly warm nickname sewing up the frayed seams of your heart and sending it into a tizzy.

However, instead of the handsome stranger you’ve come to miss, you find Owen. Eyebrow raised and expression curious.

With a quick clear of your throat, you pull your attention back. “What?”

“Cherry,” he repeats, nodding now toward the pastry in front of you. “Is it cherry tonight?”

You look down as well. “Oh, uh, yeah. Yup.”

“Hm.” His lips press together in thought. “I like the cherry. The way you make it, it’s…it’s sweet. But just a bit sour.”

“Yup...”

“It’s very good.”

“Thanks.”

His hands disappear into his pockets with a short nod of his head. “I know the customers really like it, too. Get comments about it all the time.”

“That’s good.”

“You could probably make it every night. If you wanted.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

There’s a bit of a tense lull now as you continue rolling the dough, and you notice Owen begin to shift just out of your peripheral. He doesn’t normally hover when you’re working, not unless he’s got something he’d like to talk about, and his lingering glances make your insides begin to itch.

So, you raise a brow, and look over. “Is something…wrong?”

“Hm? Oh, no. No, not at all,” he stammers. “I just…wanted to check in. See how you’re feeling.”

Curious, you straighten up.“Oh…why?”

“Well, I’ve just noticed how quiet you’ve been,” he explains. “And I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. Just…trying to get my work done.”

He steps closer. “I noticed your friend hasn’t been coming around as much. The sullen one, with the dark clothes and broody temper?”

And despite everything else, you can’t help but smile at the memories. “Oh, yeah, well…I don’t think he’ll be coming by anymore. Don’t worry.”

“Ah.” A brief pause. “Is it because of Jesse?”

Instantly, you lean back, pulling the rolling pin away from the counter in surprise. “What?”

“Jesse. The other boy who was in here,” he says. “The tall, snobby one in the fancy clothes? Kind of annoying?”

“I…yeah.” Your lashes flutter. “I guess, I mean. They don’t really…get along. But…it’s probably my fault, too.”

He hums to himself almost contemplatively. “You’re not back with him, are you? The Jesse one?”

“Uh…no. Why?”

“I just…I don’t like him,” he sighs, arms crossing over his apron. “I think he’s trouble, and truth be told, you don’t always look that happy when he’s around.”

And you know he’s right, although you are a little surprised that he noticed. “Oh…well, no. No, not at all.”

“Good. Good.” He nods again. “Honestly, you can do a lot better than him, darling. Especially considering everything else he’s involved in.”

Now slightly more startled, your head tilts. “What do you mean?”

“Well…you know,” he begins, moving even closer before lowering his voice. “I don’t want to talk out of turn, and I certainly don’t want to scare you, but…I imagine you already know a little of what he really does, yeah?”

And even though you should know better than to answer, and even though you have Harry’s stern voice ringing in your ear not to trust him…you nod.

“Right, well…I know how much trouble that might put you in,” he continues. “And I know that with the fighting, and the betting, and the outsourcing…I’d hate to see you get dragged down with him—”

“Wait, what? What outsourcing?”

After a quick glance around the rather empty kitchen, Owen sighs, and murmurs, “Look, I don’t know everything, but a few months ago, he approached me with a proposal. He explained about the fights, and about the betting, and said that I’d be making easy money. That it was a guaranteed win because his fighter never lost.”

And suddenly, the image of Harry in that ring – night after night, hit after hit – paints itself across the forefront of your mind. You lose your breath, chest constricting with the thought of all the pain he endures at Jesse’s hand.

“And from what I could tell, he was taking the betting outside of the fights,” he explains. “I don’t know where or to how many other people, but he was pretty confident. And truth be told, I started to wonder if he’d maybe rigged it.”

“Rigged it? How?”

He shrugs. “I’m not really sure. Maybe he was paying the other fighter to lose or maybe he was paying his fighter extra to make sure he always won. Either way, I said no, and he took his business elsewhere. I think he was afraid of getting caught.”

And it makes sense. Every little detail clicking into place as you recall that night at the match. Jesse’s threat and his insistence on Harry’s win. Harry’s refusal not to play his game.

You straighten up. “Right.”

“Look, I just…I don’t want to see you get dragged down with him,” Owen finishes softly. “You’re a good kid, and he’s…you can do better. You can do a lot better than him, and I hope you know that.”

And you do now.

“Thanks,” you murmur before placing the rolling pin down. “I know this is a bit last minute, but is there any way I might be able to leave early today? I think I need to go find him.”

“Yeah. No problem.” He checks his watch. “Joshua’s supposed to be coming in soon. I could have him cover for you if you’d like to leave now.”

“Really? Would that be all right?”

“Sure. The pies probably won’t be as good as when you make ‘em, but…” He throws you a smile and you laugh. “Do what you need to do. And if you need any help, just give me a call, okay, darling?”

Nodding quickly, you wipe your hands down the front of your apron before ripping it off. “Of course. Thank you so much, I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime.”

You’re out the diner door in under two minutes, nearly sprinting to your car as you work out a plan.

You’re almost positive that outside betting goes against the league’s rules (although you wonder if an illegal, underground fighting society even has any rules at all). But especially if it means Jesse ends up making more money on each fight than anyone else actually involved. The fighters included.

And if Jesse truly doesn’t want anyone else to know, you might have just found your loophole. A way to get him out of the picture and still keep Harry safe.

You aren’t sure where to start. Truth be told, you aren’t sure what you’ll even say. But perhaps you don’t have to say much. Perhaps you only need Jesse to know that you know, and he’ll take care of the rest.

You head for the one place you know he might be. Your heart aches to call Harry, but without an address, a last name, or a phone number, you don’t really have very many options. You can only hope that he’ll find you once this is all over.

When you finally make it into the darker part of town, your pulse begins to pound. Slamming against the sides of your ribcage as you pull up to the familiar building and park. Right beside the only other car in the lot.

It’s not until you step out that you realize who it is.

“Well, well, well,” Jesse calls with a devious smirk, exiting his vehicle as well. “What a surprise, sugarplum. Come to watch tonight’s big fight?”

You take in a brave breath and begin toward him. “No. I’m here to talk to you.”

His brow raises, but he seems relaxed. In fact, far too relaxed for your liking. “I see. And can I assume this has something to do with your little boytoy?”

“Not quite. But it does have to do with you.”

“Ah.” He grins to himself before dramatically gesturing toward the warehouse. “Then, by all means.”

So, with a shallow exhale, you oblige, trailing after him and toward the front door just as you did the other night. It’s an eerie deja-vu.

And perhaps you should feel a bit more nervous than you do, but deep down, you know him. You know that he’s lacking any real emotion or regret, and maybe, that might just give you an edge.

After typing in the passcode, he leads you inside. The once glorious space now dark and empty. Sporting nothing but the large boxing ring and the stunning chandelier.

“I’ve gotta be honest, sugarplum, I don’t know what you said to him…but it worked,” he begins as you both walk further into the room. “I’ve never seen him fight like that before.”

You purse your lips together in an effort to resist screaming at him. “Well, that’s what you wanted, right?”

“It is.” He stops near the ring and turns around, leaning on it as he studies you. “And I knew you’d come through.”

“Great. So, you’ll leave him alone now, right?”

“As long as he wins, sure.”

“You mean, as long as he makes you money.”

His arms cross now, and that smug expression makes you want to slug him. “As long as he does what he gets paid to do, then there won’t be a problem.”

“Right. And as long as you can keep outsourcing the bets.”

For the first time, he hesitates, that arrogant grin slipping ever-so-slightly as he raises his chin. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I stutter?” You step closer, and you notice him tense. “The money that you outsource to other bettors. The money that you make – that Harry makes you – on these fights every time he wins.”

His jaw ticks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“No? You wanna bet on that?”

And you don't think you've ever seen him so livid. Not even on his worst night when you were together, and your insides begin to wrench.

But before he can reply – before he can really do anything – a door opens. Allowing a rather bright stream of light into the warehouse as you and Jesse both reach up to shield your eyes.

And then...you see him.

Harry.

It takes him a moment to understand what he’s really looking at, but you catch the exact second he realizes. The way his face contorts and his fingers curl into his fist.

And you want to explain, want to take back everything you said and tell him the truth, but he’s already speaking up before you can.

“What the fuck is this?” he calls, and it’s so very angry. But he’s not talking to you.

He’s talking to Jesse.

Jesse merely rolls his shoulders back, attempting to settle back into his condescending façade. “Nothing that concerns you.”

“No?” He scoffs. It’s bitter and full of disdain. “Because anything you fucking say to her concerns me.”

Your heart skips.

Jesse, however, merely snorts to himself before glancing at you. “It’s a wonder you manage to get anything done on your own.”

Harry instantly strides closer, and you suddenly feel safer. Relieved to be near him again and desperate to feel him. To wrap yourself in his arms and never let go. To make things right.

But not once does he look in your direction. Instead keeping his focus on the man near the mat as he approaches. “Don’t fucking speak to her that way,” he nearly growls. “In fact, don’t speak to her at all.”

“Or what, hm?” The haughty cadence is back. “Do you really think you have any power outside of this ring?”

“I think I can knock your fucking teeth down your throat anywhere I goddamn please.”

“How incredibly barbaric.” Jesse’s brow cocks upwards. “Is he like this when he fucks, too?”

This question is directed at you, and no sooner has it left his mouth does Harry suddenly surge forward, grab him by the collar, and slam him back into the ring.

You gasp – or maybe you scream – before Harry removes one hand in order to send it flying straight into Jesse’s nose.

Blood is everywhere. Dripping from Jesse’s mouth, smeared across Harry’s knuckles, splattered along the concrete floor.

And you want to intervene. Want to do anything that might make you feel a little less useless, but Harry is delivering the second blow before you can decide.

“You fucking—” Punch. “—piece—” Punch. “—of shit.” Each comment is swimming in vile contempt, his expression livid and incensed.

You’ve never seen him this outraged. Didn’t even know a person could hold this much resentment, but it sends chills down your spine.

“Harry,” you murmur, taking a tentative step closer. “Harry, wait—”

“After everything you’ve fucking taken from me,” he sneers in Jesse’s face, “you wanna take her, too?”

Jesse’s only response is to suck in a large gasp for air that becomes gargled by the blood in his throat, and you feel sick.

“Harry,” you try again, grasping onto his other arm in an effort to tug him back. “Harry, wait, there’s another way—"

He brushes you off almost too easily. “And now—” Another hit, this time to Jesse’s stomach. “—you think she can save you? You think you can use her to get what you fucking want?”

He sends his busted knuckles straight into Jesse’s teeth, and your insides twist.

“Harry, stop,” you plead, yanking on him a bit harder. “I found another way, okay, please—”

“You fucking think…I’m gonna let you use her?” he seethes before pulling his arm back for the next hit. “You’re out of your goddamn mind—”

Without much thought, you suddenly rush around him, and place your hands on his chest. Wedging yourself between the two just before he can land the next strike to Jesse’s jaw.

It’s stupid and it’s impulsive and it’s rash, but it works. And it’s the only thing that seems to pull him back from that treacherous edge as his eyes find yours and his arm instantly drops.

It’s the first time he’s looked at you in days, and you want to cry. Because he’s staring at you like he’s never seen you before. Void of any emotion or understanding except for the realization that he doesn’t want to hurt you.

“Harry,” you whisper, and his name cracks from your throat. “Harry, please, I…I found another way. Okay? He…you don’t have to do this—”

“I know. I want to,” he replies, still rather hostile.

“But I don’t want you to,” you argue. “Okay, I think we can get out of this. There’s a way to get him out—”

“I don’t want a way. I want to fucking kill him.”

“Harry, you…” You suck in a quick breath and move closer, nearly gluing yourself to his tense frame. “He’s outsourcing the bets. He’s stealing money from the fights, okay, and we can get him out.”

He looks surprised for all of a minute before the look suddenly vanishes and he attempts to brush you away. “I don’t care. He deserves this.”

“Harry,” you nearly gasp, “if you do this, they’ll kill you. Okay, and I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you—”

His features soften, although he still begins to push past you. “You’ll be all right—”

“Stop, just listen—"

“Cherry,” he warns now, “get out of the way.”

“Harry, please, don’t do this. You can’t do this—"

“I don’t care. Move—”

“Harry—”

“Cherry, move—”

“I love you.”

He stops. Seems to freeze right where he stands, but you barrel on. Clutching onto his dark, familiar hoodie as though trying to grab at his heart.

“I love you,” you repeat in a strained whisper. “I love you, and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I lied, I…I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was helping, or…or doing what was best, but it wasn’t – I wasn’t. I wasn’t, and I’m sorry.”

He says nothing. Blinks. Doesn’t move.

“And I love you.” You suck in a shaky breath as the tears fight their way to your waterline. “I love you so much it makes my chest hurt, and I can’t lose you, and…and please. Please don’t do this.”

And you’ve never felt so vulnerable or afraid. And not because of his silence, but because you’ve never loved anybody the way you love him. And you’ll understand if he no longer feels the same or if he’s changed his mind. If he wants to punish you for your lie or for your attempt to say it now.

Instead…he moves to rest his hands over yours. Keeping them over his heart before dipping down…and kissing you.

And it fixes everything. Absolutely everything. Because it’s perfect and familiar and so incredibly Harry.

And you’ve missed him.

You feel an arm slowly snaking around your lower stomach, and you begin to smirk against his lips before you realize who the arm really belongs to.

It yanks you back, ripping you away from the man you love until you’re cemented against Jesse’s chest.

Something cold and sharp is settled against your throat, and you take in a quick gasp for air.

Harry attempts to remain calm as he’s forced to watch, but you can see the edges of his sanity coming loose. Jaw clenching, teeth gritting, brows furrowing. His shoulders are tense beneath his sweatshirt, his hands are balling into fists, and his head is cocking to the side like he’s debating whether or not to lunge.

Jesse merely laughs in your ear. “This is so fucking pathetic. And so goddamn cliché, sugarplum. Is this really what you want? Him?”

You squirm a bit in his hold, and Harry takes a brave step forward. But almost instantly, the blade of the knife begins to press further into the soft skin of your throat, immediately forcing Harry back with a dark scowl.

“Easy,” Jesse warns as you both go still. “Come on, now, I think you both know better than that.”

“Jess,” you pant, reaching for his wrist. “Jesse, please—”

“It’s so simple,” he continues, ignoring your attempt. “So fucking simple. Just win the match. Win the goddamn match and you get to go home."

“I don’t fucking care. Let her go,” Harry seethes. “This isn’t about her—”

“Except that it is.” Jesse’s smirk widens. “Of course it is. You wanted to leave to protect her, so you will stay to protect her. You made it about her, dear Harold. I’m only following your lead.”

Something shifts now in Harry’s expression, and it nearly ruins you. He looks…lost. So very lost and helpless. Like he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do without you.

Jesse presses his nose to the side of your cheek, and you feel the warm blood smear across your skin. “So, if you wanna take this away from me, then I have no problem returning the favor.”

The knife is pulled taut to the curve of your throat, and you hiss, making Harry’s face pale.

And when his eyes finally flitter to yours, you realize what you have to do.

“Harry,” you whisper, nodding once. Subtle enough to go unnoticed by the man behind you before you smile gently. “It’s okay.”

You’re not sure he truly understands, but you suppose it doesn’t matter. He will soon.

So, you slowly lift your arm until you can bend your elbow, only to send it flying straight back into Jesse’s stomach.

It’s not enough to really harm him. In fact, it’s hardly enough to even surprise him, but it does distract him just enough to loosen his grip on the knife. Giving you the room you need to spin around in his hold and deliver your fist to his face.

The shock of the blow seems to do more than the strike itself. But he goes stumbling back, nevertheless, and the moment his arm has dropped from your waist, Harry steps forward and rips the knife from his hand.

Once it’s in his possession, he grabs onto your wrist, and wrangles you behind him.

“Don’t ever…” he begins, stepping closer until the tip of the sharp blade can rest just beneath Jesse’s jaw, “…put your fucking hands on her…again.”

Jesse says nothing. He merely stares through his swollen eyelids and bloodstained lashes.

“You’re no longer Harry’s sponsor,” you add. “And you’re no longer a part of the league. Do whatever you have to do to get out. Or we’ll do it for you.”

Harry smirks, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so smug.

When Jesse doesn’t answer, the weapon is nudged further into his bruised skin, forcing him to suck in a sharp breath as he finally grits, “Fine.”

Satisfied with his response, Harry lowers the knife, and steps back just far enough to let Jesse slip by. And the two of you watch as he stumbles toward the door without a single glance before disappearing into the parking lot.

Leaving you both behind.

The moment he’s gone, Harry turns to you, wraps his arms around your waist, and hoists you into the air. Keeping you snug in his embrace while you squeal and fling your arms around his neck for stability.

“Oh, that’s my fucking girl,” he nearly groans, and you laugh. “M’so goddamn proud of you, baby. Never seen something so fucking hot.”

You dip down until you can nuzzle your nose with his. “Well, I learned from the best.”

“Yeah? Good.” His grin nearly splits his face. “Can I please take you home now?”

And you nod so quickly, you’re nearly dizzy.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, easy. Easy, sweet girl, deep breath. I’ve got you, yeah? Know it hurts, but it’ll be over soon.”

With a sharp exhale, you motion your head up and down, allowing Harry to pull your hand closer in order to continue dabbing the alcohol swab over the torn skin of your knuckles.

His tiny bathroom falls quiet as you sit on the edge of the sink. Him between your legs, attention trained on your bruise. And while the sensation is rather uncomfortable, you don’t think you’ve ever felt so cared for. So…fulfilled and secure.

And you realize, this is how you were always meant to feel.

With him.

“It’s gonna sting for a bit, but I’m almost done,” he promises, eyes softening when he sees your pained wince. “You’re being so good for me, Cherry, I’m so proud of you.”

You pout and it makes him chuckle. “You made it look so easy.”

“S’cause it wasn’t my first time.” He reaches for the gauze. “And we already know how I feel about pain.”

With a smirk of your own, you jut your chin toward him. “Yeah? And how are you feeling now?”

“Now?” His expression is wicked as he now leans just close enough to ghost his lips over yours. “Now…I feel fucking insatiable.”

You waste no time kissing him. In succumbing to his games and his endless teasing. You kiss him, and you don’t care if that means he wins, because you’ve never needed anyone or anything more.

And he’s so entertained by your desperation. His own bandaged hand finding your cheek as you sigh against his tongue and settle into this moment of adoration.

When he pulls back, you’re winded.

He goes back to work dressing your knuckles, wrapping the white gauze around and around until your torn skin is thoroughly protected.

And you watch him as he does this. As he sweeps his thumb gently along the ridges of your hand before bringing it to his mouth in order to leave yet another kiss.

“There,” he murmurs, trailing his lips across the fibers. “All better.”

It’s the most beautiful and romantic thing you think anyone has ever done for you, and your heart lodges in your throat. “Harry?”

“Hm?”

“…do you hate me?”

Surprised, he instantly straightens up and leans back. “What?”

“Do you…do you hate me? Because of what I did? What I said?” You attempt to ward off the influx of impending tears, but you can already feel the first one slipping free. “Do you think I’m a horrible person?”

His expression immediately drops as he reaches up to grasp onto your face once more. Thumbs brushing quickly along your warm skin as you sniffle. “Cherry…I could never hate you. Ever.”

“But maybe you should,” you whisper. “I hurt you, and I lied to you, and…and I don’t deserve you—”

“Baby,” he breathes, surging forward to press his forehead to yours in an effort to silence you. “Don’t ever fucking say that again, do you hear me? I know exactly why you did it, and I could never be mad at you for that. I was only hurt because I didn’t want to lose you. But you were only trying to protect me. I know that.”

“I said I didn’t love you,” you nearly croak. “I said I loved him. After everything you’ve done for me—”

“You had to,” he interrupts, and his understanding only hurts more. “Cherry, you had to. It was the only way, and I know that. I knew it then, too. You’ve only ever tried to protect me, and I wasn’t letting you.”

You grab onto his wrists and vow to never let go.

“And it’s not fair that you were put in that position,” he continues. “It’s not fair that you were forced to make that call, and it’s not fair that I dragged you into this. You were expected to choose between somebody you’ve known your entire life and somebody you just met. That’s not fair, and I never should have made you—”

“It wasn’t a choice,” you hiccup. “It was never a choice. It was always you.”

Those pretty pink lips pull back into the softest grin you’ve ever seen. “You were trying to save me, sweet girl. I know that, and I will never, ever hate you. I love you.”

I love you. The three best words you could ever hear, and your first sob wracks from your chest as you fling your arms around his neck to kiss him.

He kisses you back, but it’s soft. And sweet. And meant to convey exactly how he truly feels.

And it works because this is all you’ve ever wanted. Just him, and this moment, and those three words.

“Easy,” he warns through a strained breath. “Baby, careful—”

“Please,” is all you pant. “Harry, please, I can’t…I can’t wait any longer, please.”

And he nearly coos with amusement as he nuzzles his nose under your jaw in order to paint more kisses along your throat. “Can’t wait, hm? But what if I want to make this special?”

“It is. Is special—”

“Cherry,” he chuckles, “it’s all right. M’not going anywhere. We don’t have to rush, all right? S’been a long day and I don’t expect anything—”

“But I do,” you huff. “I’m ready, I want to. You’ve made me wait long enough.”

He laughs a little louder now, leaning back in order to see you. “I’m just trying to take care of you, sweet girl. We didn’t wait this long to throw it away because of him. I want this to be good for you. I want you to be sure that this is really what you want.”

And you appreciate the sentiment more than you’ll ever be able to explain. But right now, there is only one true way you want to spend the rest of this horrid day.

So, you lift your leg and hook it around his hip, pulling him back between your thighs with a pleading look.

In turn, he smirks, fingers returning to your chin with a playful squeeze. “Thought I was the insatiable one.”

“We’ll take turns,” you exhale before surging forward to kiss him again. Capturing his lips between your own and savoring the feeling you never thought you’d feel again.

And you can see his resolve crumble. Can see the way his eyes fall shut, the way his chest rises and falls beneath his dark shirt, the way his hands grasp onto your waist to keep you close.

He’s hungry. Ravenous. Losing the fight before it even begins, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Because now – now – he can have you. He can give you exactly what you want, can be exactly who he wants to be for you.

“Where do you wanna be, baby?” he asks through teasing nips to your neck. “The bed? The couch? D’you wanna go back to your apartment? Might feel more comfortable for you—”

“No, I don’t care,” you interrupt anxiously. “I don’t care, I just want you.”

He grins against your throat. “My greedy girl,” he murmurs, and your stomach flips. “Let’s go to the bed, yeah? Wanna lay you out and see you.”

And you want nothing more than to let him.

Regretfully, he pulls his lips from your skin and steps away, and you feel like you might die without him. But he’s quick to remedy this by taking your hand in order to help you hop down from the sink. Leading you out of the bathroom and through his apartment toward the bedroom.

His apartment isn’t what you expected. Although, truth be told, you didn’t know what to expect. It’s a bit bigger than yours, but there’s something…empty about it. Hollow, almost. The furniture is scarce, the colors and décor are few and far between. It doesn’t even look like anybody lives here, something he pointed out the moment you entered.

“Hardly spend any time here,” he’d said as you glanced around. “S’just a place to sleep, really. It’s never really felt like a home…until you walked through the door.”

And it was wildly cheesy, and perhaps a bit lame, but it was everything.

His bedroom doesn’t seem to be any different as he leads you inside. The walls are a dark grey, and his bedding is a similarly dark shade. He’s got one chair and one dresser. It’s quite clean, all things considered. No clothes lying on the floor or towels slung over the closet door.

It’s so very…Harry.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as your eyes flicker about the room. “Know it’s not very romantic.”

But you merely grin as you shake your head and grasp onto his hand. “Are you kidding? It’s perfect.”

His brow cocks up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You drag him toward the mattress before plopping down rather contently. “It’s so you. And I love that.”

And he only smiles before chasing after you and wrangling you into his arms.

It’s a faster dance from there. His hands and lips are everywhere they can reach. Slipping up the backs of your legs, ghosting over the curve of your hips, pulling at the zipper on your dress.

You merely settle in his embrace and allow him to take whatever he’d like. To touch and kiss each lingering thought away until all you know is him.

He’s careful but practiced. Treating you with the same adoration and gentle precision as he always has. And you’re so very thankful to feel so safe in his arms. A kind of security you weren’t sure you’d ever find in a partner the way you have him.

With anyone else you’ve ever been with, sex has always been transactional. A means to an end. This thing that you do to get off and nothing more. And despite your submissive preferences, there have been times when you truly felt powerless to your partner. Simply…there. Until they decided they no longer needed you.

But Harry…

He looks at you like your body is sacred. Like he’s undeserving of being so close to you. Of getting to touch you, hold you, feel you. Completely in-tune to every noise you make and every flutter of your lashes. Constantly on guard for your enjoyment and consent so he never goes any further than you want him to.

But you know, undoubtedly, that no matter how far he goes…it’ll never be enough.

You want his everything. His all. Anything he’s willing to offer, and you imagine you feel about as grateful as he looks to be here with him like this. To witness this kind of tender reverence.

He settles onto his back and pulls you on top. Placing you in a straddle over his waist until he can gaze up at you. “You okay, Cherry?”

You nod quickly – breathlessly – before resting your hands on his chest to brace yourself. “Just excited.”

His smile is boyish and charming, showcasing that familiar dimple that makes your cheeks warm. “Good. Want you to be.” He rubs soft circles into your hip before his brows furrow. “Y’know what I just realized?”

“Hm?”

“I still don’t know your name.”

And despite it all…you laugh. “I’ll tell you on one condition.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

You smirk. “I still want to be your Cherry.”

He chuckles as he squeezes your sides and drags you closer. “Oh, baby,” he murmurs as you dip down to kiss him. “Always.”

With a soft smile, you trail your lips from his cheek to his ear, whispering the forbidden name almost timidly.

And to your surprise, he only grins wider. “That’s beautiful, sweet girl. S’perfect, too. Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

You feel the blood rush to your face as you bury your lips against his throat and gently tug at his skin. “Okay, all right.”

“I mean it,” he insists, palm slipping around the back of your neck to tug you back out. “Cherry, you’re beautiful. I don’t say it to say it. I look at you…and I feel like I can’t breathe.”

And maybe they are just words. Maybe they’re meant to make your insides twist and make your heart swoon. To be romantic and suave.

But you believe him. Because you can see in his eye just how much he means it. Can feel it in your stomach that he’s never been as honest as he is right now.

Further proving that everything in your life…has led you to him. Every decision, every regret, every mistake. It brought you right here, to this moment, in his arms.

You don’t waste any time on replies or longing looks. You kiss him, and you resume this frantic dance, and you beg him to make things better. To ease this ache in your stomach as well as your heart.

So, he does.

Nimble fingers pull at the zipper along your side, loosening your uniform until he can guide it up and over your head. Only stopping once to whisper, “S’this okay, baby? Can I see you?”

You nod almost impatiently. “Yes, yeah. Whatever you want, promise.”

“Hm. Careful what you wish for, sweet girl,” he hums warningly. “Or I might just take you up on that.”

The moment your frame is revealed to him, he nearly groans. Allowing his hands to smooth up and down your shivering silhouette as you anxiously wait for more.

However, instead of allowing him the time to indulge in your body, you begin to tug at his sweatshirt. Silently requesting he reveal himself to you, too.

He smirks. “All right, hold on.”

He barely has a chance to sit up before you’re reaching for his hem in a desperate attempt to remove it. Making him chuckle as he grabs onto his collar before swiftly pulling it over his head.

And you nearly sigh. Because he’s so ethereal to look at. Every ridge, and tattoo, and scar. The way he breathes, the way he flexes. You can’t help but reach for him, skimming your fingers down the dips and curves of his toned chest and stomach almost reverently as a breath catches in your throat.

And he lets you. Studying you closely while you study your hand. A moment of silence passing before he mumbles, “Baby?”

“Hm?”

He reaches up to tuck a bit of hair behind your ear. “M’gonna have to stretch you a bit before we start, okay? Don’t want to hurt you.”

“Okay,” you answer almost too quickly. “That’s fine. I’m not worried.”

He seems amused. “I know you’re not, but I am. You know I’d never want to hurt you. And I just want to make sure we go at a pace you’re comfortable with.��

There’s an odd sort of fluttering in your chest as you scoot closer and slip your fingers into the curls on his neck. Stroking his roots in an attempt to soothe him. “I’m okay with any pace as long as it’s you.”

“Promise?”

You nudge your nose against his. “Promise.”

Finally, he seems satisfied. “Okay, sweet girl. Then can you lay down for me?”

You’re on your back before he can even finish the question, attempting to intertwine your fingers with his and drag him along with you.

“Cherry,” he laughs again, and the sound is like music. An orchestra of joy and infatuation that you can feel all the way down in your toes. “Can’t be that greedy, can you?”

“I can,” you pant, hips bucking up as he reaches for the silk around your waist. “Just please…”

“Please,” he repeats thoughtfully, pulling his focus to the material he’s slipping down your legs. “You really are my sweet girl, hm?”

Another nod. “Mhm.”

“Guess I have made you wait, yeah?” He discards of the delicate panties before smoothing his palm up the inside of your thigh. “Made you sit and be good?”

“Harry…”

“And you have been,” he muses, ignoring your mewling. “Been so good for me. Think I need to show you how proud I am. And apologize for being so mean to you. For making you go so long without.”

He moves to settle between your parted legs, one hand beside your head to brace himself while the other travels down the expanse of your stomach. Calming the trembling skin and leaving goosebumps behind until he reaches what he’s looking for.

He looks at your face first. Examines your expression and the flutter of your lashes. Stilling just long enough to listen to you breathe. “It’s okay, Cher. I’ve got you.”

You run your fingers through his hair and smile. “I know.”

His thumb is the first thing that finds you. Ghosting gently over your clit and down in order to prepare you. Ease you into the sensation.

You take in a satisfied inhale that melts into a whimper and he grins.

Pushing through your folds, he slows when he finds your arousal. Glancing down to see it for himself. “So warm, baby. Missed this.”

“Missed you,” you nearly whine, and he seems pleased.

The tip of his digit pushes in just far enough to tease you but not enough to satiate you. Leaving a rather hollow feeling in your stomach the moment he pulls back out.

You just about slump into the mattress. “Harry…”

“M’just trying to be gentle,” he says. “And I wanna take my time. Wanna really feel you. Remember this moment.”

Your heart swells. “How oddly sentimental of you.”

He shrugs before pushing the finger back inside. “Maybe you just bring it out of me.”

Your back instantly arches from the bed when he reaches his knuckle. And the gratified look he wears seems to worsen this untamable ache.

“There you go,” he coos. “See? One’s not so bad.”

His pace is slow to begin. Torturous in a sense, but he knows that. He wants to work you up, make you squirm. Have your pleas falling from your tongue like water from the sky.

And of course it works, it always does. You weren’t sure what else you expected, but as he continues this steady rhythm, you feel your sanity slowly begin to come undone until you only have one choice.

“Harry…Harry, please, can’t…can’t—”

“What, sweet girl? Need more?”

Your head quickly motions up and down. “Please…”

“All right.” He pulls back before going again, this time with a stretch a bit more prominent. “Know you can handle two, yeah?”

And he’s right, you can, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t nearly ruin you to do so. Because while two is decidedly much better than one, it’s still not nearly enough. And more importantly, it’s not the one thing you really need.

You pull harder on his hair while you writhe beneath him. Eyelids growing heavy as the sound of his fingers driving into your pussy grows louder. “Harry, please—”

“Shh.” He dips down and trails his lips along your cheek. “Gotta let me do this, baby. Just a bit longer, yeah?”

“Can’t…can’t wait—”

“Yes, you can.” His tone is firm but kind. Encouraging. “Know you can. Let me make you feel good.”

He begins to go faster. Thrusting into your cunt until your pulse is racing at about the same speed.

And he’s beautiful. He’s so goddamn beautiful, it makes you dizzy. Hovered over you on the bed, muscles flexing with each roll of his arm. There’s a soft glow behind his head from the light of his window, illuminating his curls like a halo.

It’s rather fitting, you realize. After all, he is your guardian angel.

“Breathe,” he instructs, kissing down the curve of your throat before finding your chest. “Almost done, yeah? Doing so good for me, look so pretty taking my fingers. Know you’re gonna be so beautiful taking my cock, hm?”

Again, he dangles the image right in front of you, only to take it away before it can fully render. “Har—”

“Shh,” he says again, mouthing at the swell of your breast that’s being pushed up out of your bra. “Gonna give you another. Want you to be still for me, okay?”

With a rather disappointed huff, you oblige, watching as he scoots back just far enough to get a better visual.

Three fingers brings you to the gates of heaven. As does that look in his eye when he sees the way your pussy stretches around the larger digits.

You can quite literally see the groan leave his body as he stares at you, lips parting in mesmerized bliss.

“You okay?” he manages to ask through a strained exhale.

“Yes,” you pant. “Can take more, I promise.”

“More, hm?”

“Yes…yes, please…”

He only hums.

Seconds go by before you’re gasping for air. Nails scraping down his scalp in desperation as he works you open. He’s incredibly focused, proud of the work he’s doing, and of the way your body bends to his will.

“There we go,” he praises softly. “Just like that. So fucking wet, sweet girl. Know it must ache.”

“It does…it does, Harry, please—”

“Got an itch you can’t scratch, yeah? Need me to reach it for you. Need me to fix it.”

“Please…”

“Almost, baby, almost.”

You feel the fourth begin to push in and you suck in a sharp breath.

He stops. “It’s okay,” he murmurs soothingly. “Gonna take me like a good girl. Already doing so good, just a little more. Relax for me.”

You do your best to obey, allowing your limbs to fall limp beside you, despite the tightening of the coil in your stomach.

Even still, it works just enough to allow him more room. Slipping in the added digit until you see stars.

The pumping is loud and driven. Truly an exercise in restraint – for both of you – as the pace begins to quicken and the noises begin to increase.

Then, he brings his other hand into play, and brushes his thumb over your clit.

And you don’t mean to – you didn’t even realize you were so close – but you cum suddenly and with a rather lewd moan that makes his eyelids flutter.

“There,” he whispers, as though entranced. “There we go, good fucking girl.”

You can’t seem to get enough air in your lungs as you come down. And Harry chooses not to help as he finally removes both hands…and begins to pull you apart.

He exposes your clit to the colder air in order to dip down and ghost his mouth across the top. Releasing a warmer breath that sends chills straight down to your toes, making you squirm rather violently.

“Har…Har—” you gasp, fisting the blanket below. “Please, can’t…can’t—”

“Just wanna look at it,” he says simply. “S’so pretty—”

“Harry,” you whimper, writhing beneath his hold. “Harry, this is mean.”

“Mean, hm?” He smirks now and you want to die. “Well, I don’t wanna be mean, baby. Wanna be good for you, just like you are for me.”

You choose to take this as a sign to continue, sitting up just enough to reach for his belt and begin to tug it undone.

He laughs now, glancing down at your frantic fumbling with a knowing grin. “Cherry—”

“No,” you huff. “No, it’s my turn.”

To your surprise, he only hums. “Go ahead, then.”

You do, yanking the belt through each loop before tossing it aside and moving for his zipper. You don’t imagine you’ve ever worked so fast or so hard for something (specifically a cock) in your life.

The moment he’s able to wrangle his dark jeans down his legs, you’re dragging him back down. Ignoring his protests and his reminder that he still has one article of clothing left.

Instead, you work on ridding yourself of your own, unhooking your bra and tossing it into the same pile as his boxers.

And now, as you both settle into your nakedness together, every imperfection on display, you realize you’ve never been more content. Because baring your heart to him was far more vulnerable than baring your skin.

And because this is where you were always meant to be.

“Okay, baby, m’gonna start slow,” he repeats yet again, and you nod. “Just tell me if you want me to stop or slow down, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nearly whine. “I will, I swear.”

“Good. And…shit, a condom, do you…do you have a preference—”

“Pill,” you pant. “I’m on the pill, just go.”

“Are you su—”

“Yes, please. I need to feel you, Harry, please…please.”

“Okay, all right.” He takes hold of your hips and positions you where he wants you before settling between your thighs. “Deep breath, okay? Just keep your eyes on me, I’ve got you.”

Another nod – quicker, more frenzied.

He takes hold of his cock and your eyes nearly roll back. It looks so beautiful in his hand. Just as stunning as you remember, and even though you never imagined you’d find one so appealing, your mouth seems to water.

Your leg hooks around his hip, subtly urging him closer, and he obliges. Giving himself a tug or two before gently trailing the tip down your aching cunt.

He moves up and down to collect a bit of your arousal before he finds your hole and slowly begins to push inside. Sinking in about half an inch before checking with you.

You nearly scream. “It’s okay. It’s okay, keep going.”

“Are you su—”

“Yes.”

His mouth curls up into a knowing grin as he continues. Allowing his cock to slip even further into your waiting pussy while your walls slowly stretch open to accommodate him.

And you’re hardly afforded the chance to enjoy this newer sensation before he suddenly dips down to kiss you. Perhaps an attempt at distraction, although it’s hardly needed. Because now you aren’t sure what to focus on, what feeling to indulge in. From his lips, to his cock, to the way your stomach nearly caves in on itself.

“Fucking shit, baby,” he groans against your tongue. “Shit, you’re so tight…feels so good—”

“I know,” you agree. “God, please don’t stop—”

“No. Never.” He sinks in a bit further and you dig your teeth into his bottom lip. “M’almost there, you still all right?”

“Yes…yeah, I’m perfect. Perfect, promise—”

“That’s my girl,” he nearly seethes before he suddenly drives forward, sheathing himself all the way.

You both still the moment he’s fully inside, his face now disappearing into your shoulder as though to brace himself.

And you wrap your arms around his shoulders in a desperate attempt not to let go. Allowing your body the time it needs to understand this new intrusion and find pleasure with it.

When it finally happens, the stars align.

“Okay,” you pant, gently scratching at his back to garner his attention. “Okay, go.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Need more, Har, please.”

He pulls his hips back and the whimper you release is almost feral. But it seems to do wonders for him, because his expression twists into something desperate, and you feel your chest implode.

He settles into a soft, slow pace. In and out, in and out, in synchronicity with your eager pants for more.

And there’s too much happening all at once. Too much to watch, too much to take pleasure in.

The curls that drip down his forehead, the way his body looks as it connects with yours, the feel of his mouth going down your chest.

He’s everywhere all at once and somehow, it’s still not enough.

“Taste so fucking good,” he mumbles, seemingly to himself. “Could taste you forever.”

He takes your tit into his mouth, tongue flicking at the pebbled skin before nipping at it gently.

You keen, arching from the bed until you nearly knock into him. “Har—”

He hums around your nipple, and you almost cry with frustration and pleasure.

Everything feels slow. Almost too slow but there’s something tender there. He’s not trying to fuck you, he’s trying to feel you. To mold your body to his and it’s rather effective. Because the way you crave him feels like heaven and hell all in the same second.

“Harry,” you whisper, practically deranged as you drag your hands down his chest. Nails tracing patterns down the tattoos across his abdomen. “Please…”

The noise he makes in response to your scratching is almost animalistic in nature, and you nearly flinch as you quickly lower your arms. Upset to have caused him any pain.

“No,” he groans, lifting up to nudge his nose under your jaw. “No, don’t stop. Keep going.”

“What?”

“Keep…shit—” His rhythm falters and you can almost feel the way his dick seems to twitch. “Keep going, s’okay. Want you to scratch me. Want you to hurt me, baby.”

And somehow, this reminder of his pain kink feels almost like a blessing. “Yeah?”

He nods faintly before attempting to resume his pace, and you happily take the lead.

Your fingers hesitantly return to his broad torso. Delicately tracing the muscles as they roll beneath your touch until you gingerly begin to press in. The sharp edge of your nails dancing across the expanse of his already torn skin.

In turn, he releases a strained noise that becomes lost beneath the grateful kisses to your collarbone. And you realize how much he truly enjoys it.

He gives you complete control of his body, of his pleasure. Because the harder you scratch at his scars, the more urgent his thrusts become. Until the sounds echoing around the room begin to echo between your ears. And the slapping of his hips into yours is inescapable.

“Feels so good, Har,” you nearly cry, lifting up just enough to kiss him quickly. “You’re so good to me. Always.”

“Shit.” His eyes about roll back before there’s a sharp snap of his cock into your eager cunt. “Always gonna take care of you. Promise—”

“I know,” you sigh. “I know, I love you.”

You say it now, and suddenly, everything changes.

It doesn’t matter if he’s heard you say it before or if he already knows because the look in his eye nearly guts you.

He’s so…happy. So incredibly happy and endlessly enchanted that he begins to grin. “You love me,” he repeats. Not a question.

You smile as well, and the sentiment seems to explode out of you. “I love you.”

And it’s perfect, this moment. This connection of two bodies and two souls into one. The way you stumbled through the dark until you found each other, and it makes sense. Everything makes sense now with him. Clarity in the truest form.

“I love you,” he echoes, and he means it. You can feel it in every thrust, every syllable, every brush of his lips against yours. “I fucking love you, Cherry—”

“Please,” you gasp, leg dropping to the bed while your arms follow suit. “Har, please—”

“Gonna cum for me again?” He begins to go faster, chasing after your orgasm. “Let me feel you around my cock, sweet girl, come on. Already feel so good—”

“Can’t…can’t—”

“Can’t what, hm? Can’t hold it?” It’s almost sadistic the way he speaks, but you know he’s merely enamored. “I know. I know, it’s okay. You can cum for me, don’t have to wait. Promise I won’t be mad.”

You aren’t sure what you’re about to do, all you know is that you never want this feeling to end. This moment, this security. You just want to touch him, and look at him, and taste him for the rest of your life.

He interrupts your silence as a request for something more, and he offers it in the form of his dominance.

He takes hold of your wrist and hoists it above your head, pinning it to the mattress before settling his weight atop your chest. Trapping you beneath him until you have no other choice but to indulge in everything he has to give.

And you do.

“Sweet little cunt is all mine, isn’t it?” he purrs, teeth nipping below your ear as his fingers intertwine with yours. Holding your hand as he keeps it caged to the bed. “Spent all this time just waiting for me, didn’t you?”

“Yes…yes, fuck, Harry—”

“You were so patient. So good.” He’s growing more determined – sloppy – and your head begins to spin. “God, but you just needed me, yeah? Needed me to make it better—”

“Better,” you repeat almost mindlessly.

“Needed me to erase him—”

“Please—”

“Leave my mark. My fucking mark—”

“Harry—”

“You were never his,” he grits, and you aren’t sure who he’s really trying to convince. “You were never fucking his, you were always mine. And he knew it—”

“Shit, I can’t…can’t—"

His other thumb moves for your clit and you feel tears fill your eyes. “Yes, you can. Know you can, baby, and you will. Always do so good for me, gonna take my cum, aren’t you—”

There’s a strain on your muscles from the way they’re being stretched above your head, but you realize there’s something satisfying about the subtle pull. And when it’s coupled with a firm pinch of the sensitive nerves between the rough pads of his fingers, you start to lose it.

“There – shit – there you go,” he inhales, glancing over your face before watching the way his cock slips in and out of your pussy. Dripping in your arousal and smearing across your thighs. “Take me, just like that. Feels so fucking good, sweet girl, keep going…keep—”

You cry out and writhe helplessly beneath him. Pulling your arms from out of his hold in order to sling them around his neck and cement yourself to his chest.

And you have no choice but to succumb to the pleasure before you feel him follow.

“Fuck—” He surges forward, burying himself in you completely, moans melting into your feverish skin as you cling to each other. “Shit…I love you. I really fucking love you, Cherry.”

You smile lazily before bringing his mouth to yours. “I love you, too.”

He kisses you. All through the moment and then some. Until the sun has disappeared and the moon has been hung between the stars.

And you know that you have never been happier than you are in this moment, right now.

Just you, and him, and a pussy full of cum.

“Darling, we've got some at table six, could you go check on ‘em?”

With a quick nod of your head, you readjust your apron, and grab the notepad Owen is sliding toward you before slipping from the kitchen.

You find the eager customers waiting just beside the counter and take their order with a charming grin and a promise to slip them some leftover pie.

The diner isn’t too busy tonight, and you’re grateful. Now that you’re on dessert duty, you spend a majority of your shifts working on new recipes and finalizing the specials for the coming week.

Truth be told, you rather enjoy this new task. It keeps your mind occupied and your thoughts from drifting.

And baking is your happy place. Your sense of calm amidst a sea of uncertainty, almost rivaling your own true source of serenity.

Harry.

Once you’ve returned to the kitchen, you sneak a glance at the clock. 12:06 A.M. He should be here soon. Probably tired. Perhaps a bit stressed. Hopefully no worse for wear than usual.

Fight nights always tend to leave you on edge. You know he’s more than capable of taking care of himself, but you can’t help but worry. It’s what you do best.

Still, you’re happy for him. Because while pies are your happy place, the boxing ring is his. He’s only ever wanted to fight – to make money, channel his anger into something good. And perhaps it’s not a sustainable lifestyle, but for right now, it’s what he wants to do.

And you respect his choice. You’ll respect any choice he makes, as long as he’s the one making it. Instead of it being made for him.

Besides, without Jesse there, you find that Harry tends to have a lot more fun. He leaves the fights with a busted lip but a bright smile, and it makes your heart swell until it feels as though there’s no more room in your chest.

Last you heard, Jesse left town. Harry refused to tell you what really went down at the club once the other members found out, but you decided that was probably for the best. No matter what fond memories you still have of your childhood friend, he’s not who he used to be. And you won’t ever be able to change that.

But for the first time in a long time…you’re okay with that.

The clock continues to tick the seconds away, and with each passing one, you grow a tad more anxious. Your guardian angel is late. At least by a few minutes, and you scurry about the diner as your thoughts race about a mile a moment.

And then, just as you’re readjusting the cake stands and tidying up the dessert display, you see it.

Your not-so-strange stranger is here.

He’s sitting in his favorite booth, fifth one down from the first row, directly next to the window.

He’s got his usual hoodie pulled over his head, obscuring any view of his face. His clothes are dark and seem to cover nearly every inch of his skin. His knuckles are wrapped in that familiar, white gauze, and are stained with streaks of red.

But he’s looking down. Staring at the menu on the table as though he doesn’t order the exact same thing every time.

And you grin wider than you have all day.

“Hi, Cherry,” he calls the moment his head lifts, allowing you a better look at his stunningly damaged face as you scurry closer. “Missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” you nearly giggle, slipping off your apron before sliding into the seat across from him. “How was it?”

“Easy,” he snorts, but there’s a sparkle in his eye. “And I have good news.”

“Oh?”

“M’off for the next few days. Thought you could come over…and not leave.”

You laugh as you reach across the table to take his hand in yours. “I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah? Good.” He glances down at your interlocked fingers almost fondly. “Hey, you know what I just realized?”

“What?”

Now, a mischievous expression begins to form. “I never introduced myself.”

And for some reason…you can’t help but laugh.

“So,” he begins, rather charmingly as he raises your hand in order to shake it formally, “hi.”

And you really fucking love him.

“I’m Harry Styles.”

I CAN'T BELIEVE WE'RE AT THE END!! This has been such a fun story, and SUCH a wild ride that I feel very lucky to have gotten to take with so many incredibly wonderful people!!

Thank you so much to everyone who's followed along and left the nicest comments or notes!! I cannot tell you what it means to me!!

Harry and Cherry will def be back for extras soon, but until then...I love you 🥹♥️ Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Previous Part:

~ Uppercut*

~ Full Knockout Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

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amaranthineghost · 6 months

Text

| 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐒. ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairing: lando norris x reader

ꕥ summary: you don't want him to go

ꕥ author note: first imagine :3 it's been sitting in my drafts for months because I was too scared to post but reading it back, it low-key eats.

“COME ON DARLING…you’ve got to let me go…” lando’s voice muffled softly against the skin of my neck, a chuckle escaping his lips and the vibrations sent butterflies fluttering through my body.

the belgian grand prix had finished days ago, and lando was eager to get back to his flat in the uk for summer break. despite my adamant protests, we flew out the very next morning and was happily greeted by max fewtrell when we’d arrived.

days later, lando’s trainer insisted on getting some training done, he wouldn't be gone for long, i knew it well

but still not wanting him to leave, i clung to him, shrouding him in my arms to prevent him from leaving. i reached around his neck, standing on the tips of my toes to haul him down to meet my height and suffocate him in my embrace. his head naturally fell between the crevice of my neck, chuckling lowly when i did so.

his breath fanned across my neck like warm winds in autumn, goosebumps forming on my skin.

i hate the effect he has on me.

yet i’d continue to hold him captive, his body heat radiating onto to me like a heated blanket. his hands placed firmly on my waist, his thumb dragging across the exposed skin, the result of my shirt riding up. his finger occasionally disappearing under the fabric.

the way he held me…

“baby…” his voice was slightly hoarse, unnecessarily dragging out the ‘y’ as he spoke lowly. his fingers pressed tighter against my exposed waist in a pulsating manner.

god, the way he spoke to me…

“don't go…” i muttered against the soft fabric of his hoodie he wore to combat the cool air and soft sprinkling of rain drops. my voice was muffled, almost lost in the layers of his clothes.

i slowly inhaled after i spoke, taking in his faded cologne that resided on his hoodie. it was like a drug and i couldn't get enough.

“i've got to…” he reiterated with an amused tone, but made no effort to be the first to let go, “i’ll be back later…”

i groaned faintly into his hoodie, my arms firmly looped around his nape loosened gradually. i lifted my head from the spot on his hoodie, which prompted him to pull his head away.

his soft curls grazed across my neck, emanating a soft ticklish sensation through my skin. his hands remained by my sides as his body pulled away from mine. the comfort of having him quickly dissipated and i was left with the abnormally cold air to keep me company.

the last touch of warmth i had from him left as he’d removed his hands from my waist, though quickly replacing it on my chin.

his hand pushed against the underside of my chin, making me meet his gaze as he looked down on me. his green eyes were enthralling.

oh how I love his eyes.

my pupils dilated as i stared into his, and i was stuck in his half-lidded gaze. my eyes flickered when i had realized his forehead had come to rest against mine. his finger brushed against the side of my face, inciting a sharp inhale as he tucked loose strands of hair behind my ear.

his forehead was warm against mine, the warmth i so desperately craved from him. His nose bumped against mine softly, heat spreading across my face as i felt his breath pan across my face.

his lips ghosted over mine. it was a slight contact but not enough.

i needed more.

and as i watched his tired eyes continuously as they glanced from my dilated eyes down to my irritated lips when his lips began to press against mine.

the contact i needed, that I craved from him…I finally had as his lips pressed mine, taking his time as he moved against me.

the comfort of his body returned to me again, like it'd never even left. his hand tangled in my hair as he pushed me closer to him. his other hand traced along my jaw before resting by my ear.

he felt like sitting by a fireplace, watching the flames flicker and ashes fly as you sat by on the floor.

he felt like home.

and as his lips moved against mine, i feel a fire igniting in my chest, as it always did, and my lips sting softly. a curse of biting them regularly.

though the sting of having his lips against mine is an odd comfort, it's a mere familiarity that brings content.

the moment feels like it lasts forever, like it could last forever, and it would if we allowed it to

but when he pulls away, the warmth, the contact, the comfort i desperately crave from him, had quickly went with it. as if i never had it to begin with.

he paused for a second, taking in a breath before leaning in again, but this time only connecting our lips for a short second.

and then i was craving warmth and homeliness i already had as his body remained on mine but knowing it was coming to an end.

he chuckled softly, the ghostly vibrations fell over my lips as he pulled away, pursing his lips to hide his toothy smile.

“i’ll be back, you know i will…” he muttered , his eyes transfixed on his hand, running my hair between the pads of his fingers. he pulled away, the lack of heat caused goosebumps to arise across my skin.

it was like throwing a heated blanket off your body, except i didn't want him to go.

home is where he is.

“bye darling…”

I'm not home when he isn't here.

#formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 #mclaren #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #fluff #lando imagine #lando x reader

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starstruckmiraclekitty · 6 months

Text

Simon’s heart was hammering in his chest, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Was this real? Was he dreaming?

He’d just gotten home, just a bit before he knew you’d be home yourself- when he found something on the table that had his entire world shift on its axis.

In his trembling hands, he held a picture of an ultrasound. He honestly didn’t think much of it at first, until he saw your name printed in bold white letters at the bottom of the photo. The photo which was just taken this morning.

Simon truly didn’t know what to think. So many emotions were swirling around in his head. Confusion, excitement, anxiousness.. he couldn’t firmly grasp any of them. Did he deserve to be a dad? Would he even be a good one?

He’d had such a shit childhood, his own father causing so much of Simon’s turmoil, that he truly never believed he could have a family of his own. Was this something that you truly wanted with him?

“Simon, baby I’m home.” You called, making your way into the house. Your voice brought Simon out of his thoughts, but his eyes remained glued to the photo in his hand.

“Y/N?” Simon asked, his voice came out barely above a whisper. He held the picture out to you, his hands still shaking as his eyes looked up at you.

Your stomach churned when your eyes landed on the ultrasound picture in Simon’s hands. You had planned to tell him, you truly did. You were trying to think of the best way to broach the subject, as having a child was not something that the two of you had ever discussed. “Simon, I can explain.”

“How long have you known?” Simon’s eyes bore into yours as he spoke, and you could see tears beginning to form in them.

“I just found out the other day. It was a routine visit at the doctors, I honestly had no idea. I was planning on telling you Si, I really was. I just… I didn’t know how.” Your bottom lip trembled as you forced the words out, your eyes drifting to your hands, not able to look your boyfriend in the eye. “Please don’t hate me.”

“Hate you?” Simon asked incredulously. He set the picture down gently on the table, before making his way to you. His hands cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him once more. “I could never, ever hate you. Not ever, do you understand me?”

You nodded, as tears began to pour from your eyes. “I’m scared, Simon. This isn’t something we’ve ever talked about. I didn’t know how you’d feel and I… I didn’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden, and will never be a burden. I chose this life with you, and all that comes with it.” He said, his fingers wiping away the tears that fell down your cheeks. “We are in this together, kid. You and me. That was the deal the second I put that ring on your finger.”

“You want this? You want a kid with me?” You asked, your heart stilling slightly as you waited for his response.

Simon engulfed you in a tight hug, his chest heaving with silent sobs. “You have no fucking idea how much I want this. I never thought I’d ever have a family, but I am so goddamned grateful that you’ve given me one.”

He held you like that for some time, before getting down on both knees in front of you, his face at the same height as your belly.

“I promise you.” He started, his eyes leaving yours to look at your growing tummy. “Both of you. That I will try to be the father I never had. I want to give you the family, the life that you so deserve.”

Your heart melted at his words, hot tears streaming down your face as you cradled his cheek in your hand. “Simon, you already have. You’re going to be the best damn father there is.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, Simon laid in bed with his head laying softly on your belly. Your quiet deep breaths soothed his racing thoughts, drawing a smile to Simon’s lips.

His mind filled with thoughts of your future- your belly growing with HIS child, the little one learning their first word, chasing them around the house once they learned to walk, all the family trips he’d take you guys on- the ones he never got to go on as a kid….

He knew you’d make the best damned parent, and he swore to the stars above he’d be the dad he’d always wanted as a kid. He’d be a good man, a family man. He’d finally have the family he never knew he wanted.

Yeah…Simon Riley couldn’t fucking wait to be a father.

#simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #ghost mw2

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cosmosis · 11 months

Text

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - touchy touchy

modern ceo au! thinking about how miguel touches you so often around the office that a random guy decides to do something about it

You and Miguel don’t share a workplace. He’d end up being your boss anyway, and as much as you love spending time with him, it’s not good to have a partner that also gives you your paycheck. (Plus, distance can equal longing.)

Miguel constantly insist that you stay at home, and that he’d provide you with everything you could ask for but... feminism???( /j ) You have your own job conveniently down the street from Miguel’s office; it’s more of a hobby than it really is a job, but it gets you money.

The whole building knows you as “Miguel’s Wife”; you visit often. Sometimes your visits are a surprise, others it’s when you have nothing to do so you just hang by Miguel all day. You’re blessed with free food from the cafeteria, plus the gym. It’s fun to watch Miguel work out.

Though, today was... funny.

Whenever Miguel thinks you guys are alone, he’s touchy. However, to Miguel, “alone” is just being in a room with less than 6 people in it. So, needless to say, his employees have seen things.

You’re just so pretty, so cute to him, he can’t help but just worm his way over to you whenever in sight.

Things along the lines of kisses, waist grabbing, thigh grabbing, hugs, back hugs, and even ass-slapping are a common sight to see when you’re around the office. Miguel truly, genuinely believes that he’s being sly, but that’s probably because everyone’s too scared/nice to say anything about it. Perks of being a CEO.

No one really tells the new recruits about it though, it’s just a you-see-it-and-get-used-to-it type of thing.

So imagine your surprise when someone in the office pulls you aside one day and asks if Miguel is sexually assaulting you.

Miguel’s been lingering his hands all over you today in particular, boldly sliding his big hand down towards your ass. You elbow him a little when he gets too close though, especially around a few people.

“¿Por favor, querida?“ He whines, slithering his hand back onto you.

“Oh my gosh, Miguel, no. Wait until we’re out of work.“

All is well, but Miguel has to tend to a few things, so you take it upon yourself to take a break at the cafeteria. Might as well bring him a drink while you’re at it.

Halfway through your walk there, some guy you’ve seen around taps on your shoulder and pulls you aside. He’s relatively young, has this assertive look to him. Among the quirky pins on his shirt pocket, you find an ID card labeled “INTERN.”

The worry on his own face makes you a little anxious.

“Ma’am, are you okay?“ He asks, meeting his eyes with yours. He looks serious, peering from left to right as if a secret was being exchanged.

“Uh- yeah, what do you mean?“

His voice is low, almost a whisper. “Girl, I’ve seen Miguel grope you... do you want me to call the police? I have a video right here as pr-“

A gust of relief washes over you, and you almost start to laugh. You watch as the guy starts to pull up his phone, before you stop him.

“Oh, no no no, it’s okay!“ You exclaim. “Miguel’s my husband, he’s just clingy!“

The man raises an eyebrow, concern lacing his voice. “You aren’t just saying that, right? Like, you’re really okay?”

“Yes, don’t worry. If he was actually bothering me, then I’d tell him.“ You chuckle, just to ease up the serious air a little bit.

“Ah, well if you say so... If anything happens, just let me know.“ He says.

“Yeah, thank you for the concern, though.“ You smile, and he smiles back, walking away around the corner where you assume he came from.

With a little laugh, you continue your walk towards the cafeteria, thinking deeply about the interaction. It might be time for you to tell Miguel to stop touching you often around the office, as much as you enjoy it. He’d hate despise it though.

If it weren’t for you being around so often, work life might not be as pleasant for his employees. You don’t think Miguel truly notices, but he starts getting huffy and puffy when you aren’t around to see him; people get a little more scared of him when he has this scowl on his face.

“Who was that?“

You violently flinch, yelping out loud. In one swift motion, you swerve around, your heartbeat only easing down when you realize it’s just Miguel.

“Miguel, honey, you gotta stop scaring me.“

“...Sorry. Who was that?“ He asks, obvious curiosity in his voice. Almost like it was muscle memory, he slips both hands onto your sides, reminding you of the topic at hand. (literally lmao)

“Just some guy... you know what he asked me, though?“

“If it was on a date he’s getting fired.“ Miguel promises darkly, squeezing at the fat of your sides.

“No, Miguel. He asked if you were assaulting me. Even asked me if he wanted me to call the police.“

“Assaulting?“

“Yeah, because you keep on doing things like this-“ You place your hands on his. “- to me every time I visit!“

Like a guilty puppy, Miguel pouts to the side, reluctantly slipping his hands away from you. It takes you everything not to laugh at him as he grumbles to himself, that signature scowl building onto his face.

“It’s fine, Miguel. You can still touch me. Just tone it down a bit when we’re around people, yeah?“

Miguel nods, slowly inching his fingers towards your hands. “Yeah. M’sorry.”

“Miguel, it’s fine. It’s not like I hate it, it might just be uncomfortable for your employees.“

Miguel sighs, dipping down his head to rest on your shoulder. He catches a whiff of your body wash, sweet and comforting. You giggle, a sound that Miguel would kill to hear for everyday of his life. You slide your own hands over onto his broad back, tracing your fingers against the muscle through his shirt.

“I just... I think I love you too much.“ He mumbles, and your ears almost strain to hear it.

“Awh, you know I love you too.“ You sweetly reply, squeezing him into a tight hug. He’s so darling, compressing you tight against him.

“Just let me have this, and I’ll leave you be for a bit, hm?“ Miguel mutters into your ear, indulgently smoothing his big hands over your little back. Chills run up your spine when he presses a smooch to your ear.

“Yeah, we’ll see how long that’ll last...“ You chuckle, letting him do what he wants for the time being.

It takes Miguel longer than he really should to let you go, adoration clearly written on his face as he detaches his arms from you.

“You wanna grab coffee with me before you have to go back?“ You ask, beaming at Miguel with a natural smile.

Miguel doesn’t know what to do with himself. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You break off into a walk through the hallway, and Miguel has to remind himself every minute or so to keep his hands off.

. . .

It didn’t work.

Already in line for coffee, Miguel’s chin rests on top of your head, acting as if the previous conversation was entirely wiped clean from his memory.

You sigh, knowingly speaking to the barista as if you didn’t have a 6′9 CEO strapped to your back like a koala.

“Baby, what did we say?“

“Sorry...“

miguel is 6′9 because i said so and because of this tiktok

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #atsv #atsv miguel o'hara #spiderman #spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #x reader #reader insert #fluff #romance #ceo au #cosmosis-writes ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

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roseychains · 2 months

Note

jjk men sorted into whether their doms or subs in bed?

Dom or sub? ~

A/n: there all switches okay so I can write anyone for anything BUT if I had to pick one this is how I’d sort em ;) oh and I’ll write for demon slayer now!

C/w: written by a minor!

Choso is a sub. He’s so pathetic. Firstly, he’s so inexperienced he literally couldn’t be on top if he tried. He doesn’t know anything about sex so he needs you to guide him through it. Not to mention, he’s also often scared of accidentally hurting you if he were to try to dom you in any sort of way. The human body is fragile, not at all like his body. He also just has such a soft and sweet nature to him, he doesn’t want to feel like he’s controlling you. Rather, he loves it when you take the lead, tell him exactly what to do, or use him for your own pleasure. It’s what works best for him. He’s so whiny too, sounds like a slut in bed.

You had him laid down on your shared bed, riding him while your hands rest on his neck for support, occasionally applying pressure.“H-hngh!~ don’t stop ahh!~” he whines, and you bounce up and down on him, sliding his member in and out of your cunt, taking him in fully then lifting up. “Yea? You like it when I use you?” teased, but with you riding on his sensitive cock, overstimulating him with penetration alone he can’t muster a response. Only letting out little pleas and cry’s, pathetic moans.

Gojo is a switch. Let me be clear, gojo loves the thrill of sex, and also loves to make his partner feel good. On one hand, he loves teasing you, making you cry on his cock. He’s so mean, giving you small touches until your begging him. He likes to get you worked up then overstimulate you. But on the other, he loves it when you use him for your own pleasure, when you either milk his cock for all he’s worth, when you edge him, or when you get the strap on and pound his ass. He’s down for anything, really, which makes him the most switchy switch out there. He would definitely switch roles in the same fuck session too.

You’d have his hands tied up to the head board, a gag stuffed in his mouth as you palmed and teased his cock, spitting on it and giving it a few rough strokes, bringing him close to that edge just to deny him again for what seemed like hours. His drool was running down his chin and tears wheedled up in the corners of his eyes, begging you to let him cum. You were so focused on his cock, you didn’t realize he had torn the rope binding his hands and tossed the gag across the room. He was quick to sit up and flip you over, aligning his cock with your hole. “Did you have fun teasing me baby? Let’s see how you like it.”

Nanami is a switch. Normally he is a dom because he loves giving. He likes bringing you too your high, without you having to lift a finger. Along side the occasional rough fuck you get when you act like a brat or when he’s releasing his stress on your poor cunt. However, sometimes he’s just really exhausted and wants to lay back, and let you use him to get off. He also hates to admit it but he secretly loves it when you are a little mean and rough. He’s so used to being the scary one, with how he’d built, so it’s a nice change of pace for him.

“Agh!~ kento so deep!” He was fucking into you in a matting press, bringing his hand down to press on the spot where his cock made your stomach bulge. “You feel that baby? I feel it too. Your doing so well for me.” He says the gentlest words while his pace is anything but gentle, manhandling your body and thrusting slow and deep, making you feel and take. Every inch. It didn’t take much longer till he came inside you, pumping you full of his cum. He pulled out and laid back, but you weren’t done yet. You crawled on top of him, and slowly slid down on him. “Gonna use me princess? G-go ahead. O-oh!~” you started bouncing up and down on him quickly, running your hands down to hold onto his shoulders. “You can keep goin right? Just lay back and let me take it from here.”

Sukuna is a dom. He’s the king of curses and full of pride and arrogance, of course he needs his power and dominant presence to follow him everywhere including the bedroom. The idea of being submissive to anyone, especially the one who’s role is to be submissive to HIM is utterly humiliating. If you ever suggest the idea he would absolutely punish you for it. It’s much more natural for him to take control, and have power over his partner in bed, have them bend and fold for him and him alone.

On all fours and a tight grip on your neck, he was using as leverage to pound into you with a ruthless pace. His words were mean, “take it, fucking take it. Yes just like that,” and his hands were mean, one choking you and pulling your back on his cock with the other gripping your waist and occasionally slapping your ass hard enough to leave red marks. But nothing was as mean as his pace, fucking into your body using you for his own pleasure, tip kissing your cervix threatening to spill his cum inside you.

Geto is a dom. Similar to Nanami, he loved to give, and equal amount of soft and rough treatment. Unlike Nanami, however, he is NEVER too tired to take control. He needs control in every aspect of his life, it helps him get is way so naturally he enjoys calling the shots in bed. Further, he is very much into bdsm and power play, so being in a dominant role absolutely gets him going. If you ever suggest to be on top, he won’t be mad or anything he will just decline with a condescending smile on his face. You and him both know you couldn’t even if you tried.

Your body was tied up in full shibari, red ropes suspending you from strong hocks on the ceiling, your legs forced open and at his mercy. He took his time just marveling at his work, admiring the knots and loops he crafted around your body, and finally taking a few careful steps forward and caressing your thigh, inching closer and closer to where you needed him the most. “Quit teasing! Touch me already!” His hand stopped in his tracks and he gripped your thigh with a stern, rough hand. “Watch that mouth. Be patient and you’ll get what you want. Keep up the attitude and I’ll gag your slutty mouth.”

Toji is a dom. He’s just, so big. It’s nearly physical impossible for you to exert any amount of control over him. He’s so muscular and tall, even if your bulky your just not as bulky as him. Further, his heavenly restriction makes controlling him even more impossible, as he has god like physical prowess. You are just a girl, of course you can’t even dream of trying to take the lead. It’s okay though he thinks it’s cute. If you ever floated the idea, he would be like. “Yea, okay. Let’s see you try.” You did not try.

He held you up, and was fucking you against the wall of the shower, not water dripping down your bodies. “Pussy’s gripping me so fuckin tight, you holding up okay princess.” With the way his cock is drilling to you, you can hardly make out any verbal response, nails dragging along his back, cracked moans slipping out your lips. “Hmmm? What’s that? Can’t hear ya sweets. Use your big girl words.” He teased, splitting you open with his massive cock, your smaller frame hardly taking in his girth and length.

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moonstruckme · 25 days

Note

can i request a reader who can’t admit she’s upset with one the marauders (or all)? like refuses to cry…only if you’re comfortable of course. thank you :)

Thank you for requesting gorgeous!

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

The smell of smoke coming from the kitchen is the first sign that Sirius has tipped over from resentment into remorse.

“Jesus,” you open the front door on your way into the kitchen, eyes watering, “what are you doing?”

“I was trying to make rice,” he says, fanning desperately over your pressure cooker, “but I think I’ve fucked it.”

“Do you think so?” Any other day you’d both grin at the harmless snark, but now Sirius’ expression pinches and you think your own must look the same, your tone more biting than you meant for it to be. “It’s fine, it’ll be fine once it airs out. Help me with the windows?”

Sirius acts like it’s a competition, opening three windows before you’ve finished two and looking at you like he’s expecting a pat on the head for it. You try to give him a smile, and his expression clouds over.

“Sorry,” he says, voice not quite cool but oddly remote, “the idea was to surprise you with dinner, and I’ve broken your rice thingy instead.”

“It’s not broken,” you reassure him. “I’m sure it’ll be fine once I clean it out. Why were you trying to make dinner?”

Sirius grimaces. It’s a full body motion, his eyebrows hooking in the middle while the muscles in his forearms shift uncomfortably and his shoulders migrate upward. “Sort of a shitty attempt at an olive branch, I guess.”

Some of the smoke has cleared, and you brave the kitchen. “I don’t need an olive branch,” you say. “If you say we’re good, we’re good.”

“Don’t do that.” He follows you into the kitchen. “I can tell you’re upset, just because—” Sirius hisses when you take the bowl out of the pressure cooker, transferring it swiftly to the sink “—fuck, baby, don’t burn yourself. Let me take care of that later.”

“I’d rather handle it now,” you say, turning on the faucet. “I’m just letting it soak anyway.”

“I’m trying to handle this.” Sturdy hands wrap around your shoulders, turning you to face your boyfriend. He looks at you steadily. “Don’t pretend you’re not angry with me, because I know that you are.”

A spark of annoyance tingles up your spine as you shrug, reaching behind you to turn off the faucet. “I’m not.”

“Can you stop trying to make me feel like an idiot? I know you. You’ve been all stiff since last night.”

“You were angry last night. Not me.”

“Yeah, well it seems to have caught on.”

You turn away from him and back towards the sink, swishing your hand in the cold water of the bowl to dislodge the charred rice sticking to the bottom. You don’t know where Sirius gets off, acting like you’re holding a grudge when he’s the one who shouted at you last night. Your phone had died while you were out with friends. That was all that had happened. You didn’t think anything of it, because Sirius, the only person who would really worry about not being able to reach you, knew you were out and that you’d be home late.

But when you had gotten home, he’d been furious. Gone on and on about how he’d been trying to get a response from you all night, and how dangerous it was to get drunk when you couldn’t call anyone (nevermind that you’d been with your friends), and how freaked out he’d been. He wouldn’t listen to you. He’d only wanted to yell and rage, and make you sit in your heels on the couch while he did it. He’d even seemed like he might be tearing up a couple of times. And you hated to think of him being scared for you, but since when was it your responsibility to answer every time he called? He knew you were with your friends. You hadn’t asked him to check in on you.

He’d gone to bed still fuming and you’d stayed on the couch rather than try to sleep in a hostile bed. Now, inexplicably, his tune seems to have changed.

“So,” Sirius sighs, “this is you not mad, huh?”

“Yup.” You scrub at the bowl with your fingernails.

“I just want a chance to apologize.”

“You can if it’ll make you feel better, but I don’t need it.”

“Why can’t you just admit it?”

“Because I’m not the one who gets pissy about stupid things.” You dislodge a chunk of rice and your hand slips across the bowl, splashing water onto your shirt. “That’s you.”

There’s a second of dense, oppressive silence. When Sirius breaches it, you can hear the smirk in his voice. “There’s my girl. Tell me about the stupid things I got pissy about, would you?”

“It’s nothing.”

“No, it’s not. It wasn’t nothing to me, and clearly it wasn’t to you either. Go on, doll.”

“I don’t want to argue with you.”

“Sure you do.”

“Why do you want to fight so bad?”

“Because,” Sirius says, and you can hear him moving behind you, can all but see him leaning against the counter, the picture of insouciance, “I think you need to get it out of your system.”

You scrub harder at the bowl. Blackened bits of rice float to the top of the water. “Like you do?”

A pause. His voice softens. “It’s not always a good thing. I shouldn’t have shouted at you, last night.” Something in your chest tightens painfully at this new gentle tone. “I’m sorry. I let my temper get the better of me. I was just worried about you.”

“I don’t think that’s my fault,” you say, managing to sound mostly normal. You dump out the contents of the bowl, filling it again with warmer water. “My phone was dead, and I was with my friends. I didn’t need you to worry about me.”

“I just do, when I know you’ve all been drinking, and I can’t talk to you to know you’re okay…” Sirius takes in a breath, breaking your heart with how it sounds like he’s trying to steady himself. “But you’re right, okay? It wasn’t fair.”

“I didn’t know I was coming home to be shouted at.” This time, your voice betrays you, a pitchiness that makes you go quiet fast. You hear Sirius move.

“Sweetheart?” he asks softly. There’s a touch at your elbow. “I’m sorry, baby, please look at me.”

You don’t want to, but you don’t want your embarrassment interpreted as ire. You take a quiet breath before pivoting from the sink. Sirius’ eyes are waiting, sad and fretful as they probe at yours.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, impossibly quieter, and runs his fingers from your elbow up the back of your arm. “It wasn’t your fault, I wasn’t being fair. I shouldn’t have shouted at you.”

You press your lips together, hard. His eyebrows hook up in the middle.

“You can cry, sweet thing. It’s okay.” You shake your head mutely, blinking, and Sirius makes a terribly lovely cooing sound, snaking an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. You hug him back as the first hot tear rolls down your cheek. “Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Your shoulders jump with a stilted, poorly repressed sob, his grip on you tightening. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby. My temper tantrum really did a number on you, huh?”

You laugh wetly. “Guess so,” you squeak. “Sorry.”

“If you apologize for this, I may shout at you again,” he warns fondly. “You haven’t done anything wrong, lovely girl. Just let it out, if you need to.”

You know that’s not easy for Sirius to say. Know he’s likely close to tears himself, from how agitated seeing other people cry makes him. You appreciate the offer.

You fall into a silence less heavy than any that’s suffocated your home since last night, broken up only by the steady, quiet thumping of Sirius patting your back and the intermittent smooching sounds as he kisses your shoulder or your cheek or the side of your neck. You stand still in your smoky kitchen, wetting your boyfriend’s shoulder with tears and snot, and he lets you.

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gay-dorito-dust · 12 days

Note

Hi!! could I request Argenti, Boothill and Jing Yuan when someone tries to flirt with their s/o? I absolutely adore your writing btw!! Hope you're doing good!!

Boothill

Has a bullet with their name written on it and it was in times like theses where he wishes his shit hadn’t been tampered with, just so he could curse the bastard out for merely brushing shoulders either you.

Words such as:

Mother fudger

Heck

And Gosh darn it

Weren’t exactly going to scare the person flirting with you off with their tail between their legs but threatening to shot them would. However after the person had scampered off, Boothill would be subjected to you scolding him about threatening people for simply flirting with you, when there were other ways to do so without the inclusion of unnecessary violence.

Boothill can’t help it! He hates it when people flirt with his darling and he isn’t one for sharing you either, he’d much rather hog all of your time and attention for himself! You were his partner! Not everyone else’s!

‘Boothill.’ You said warningly.

‘What?’ He said as he tugged you into his side, keeping his arm at your waist possessively. ‘He was getting a little too cosy and I had to remind that fudging idiot to keep his hands to himself.’ He adds with a smirk, stealing a kiss from your lips.

His jealously stems from his own hatred towards his metal body, you could find someone else who could feel you in your entirety beyond from their face and head, unlike him.

‘I get that and I thank you for running them off, but you know you don’t have to worry about me looking at anyone else.’ You reassured him as you held his face in your hands and watched as his smile falters and his featured relaxed into your touch. ‘You’re all I want, you’re all i’ll ever need regardless of your inability to physically feel.’ You then pressed your forehead against his, feeling him push himself further against you in a selfish need to feel you. ‘You’re my handsome, handsome cowboy.’ You whispered.

‘I am your handsome, handsome cowboy.’ He muttered under his breath.

Argenti

He’s not jealous in the slightest.

He’s the most trusting in the strength of your relationship and you to even allow for an ounce of doubt to permeate his thoughts.

If anything he’d agree with everything the person was saying about you while adding onto it, making the person feel as though their attempts at flirting with you were useless, especially when the cherry haired knight beside you was casually waxing poetry on your ethereal beauty.

‘Indeed they are a beauty to behold indeed.’ He’d say as he knelt before you and held your hands in his all the while making sure his eyes remained glued on you as he spoke. ‘I’d kneel before their alter for the rest of eternity if it meant achieving the impossible and catching their gaze, they truly are my reason for breathing, the reason I see beauty whenever I travel, as they are the true beauty I have been seeking for my whole life.’ He finishes by kissing the back of your hands softly, his thumbs caressing the skin there as though they were porcelain.

The person who was flirting with you left not long after because how could they compare with that?!

All they said was that you were cute and Argenti took that and made you come across as though you were a deity lost to time, finally having been found after so long.

They knew they couldn’t win and left for easier people to pull their mediocre pick up lines on.

Argenti is your Gomez, you are his Morticia. There was no one getting between you two because the love you had was stronger than most.

Jealousy doesn’t exist when you actually trust someone whom you claim is half of your own soul.

Jing yuan

He finds the face they make upon realising who’s s/o they’ve been flirting with particularly funny to be even remotely jealous.

Not to say that he doesn’t get jealous, he does but it’s not nearly as evident. He’s self assured in his relationship with you that he didn’t even think of the person flirting with you as a threat even in the slightest.

‘I’m sorry to interrupt your riveting conversation but I’d like my partner back now.’ He’d say as he stood behind the person flirting with you.

‘Look buddy I found them,’ the person looked behind them, and upon realising who was behind them, the words of annoyance were quickly discarded as they could only stare at a smiling Jing Yuan, ‘first…’

Jing yuan raised his brows as the Cheshire smile on his lips only grew at the evident regret across their face. ‘Hmmm? Cat got your tongue? You seem a bit pale, maybe you should go sit down and rest.’ He suggested and watched in amusement as the person didn’t fight back, but instead wordlessly followed his instruction and walked away for you both to go somewhere else.

‘You’re having too much fun with this.’ You’d tell Jing Yuan as he placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you out of the establishment.

‘What can I say, their expressions may be the same every time but that doesn’t stop them from being more humorous than the last.’ He replies with a chuckle as he presses a tender kiss to your forehead. ‘However I cannot blame them for finding you as appealing as I do if they’re so desperate as to flirt for your attention.’ He adds and you huff and crossed your arms. ‘As if you were any different.’

Jing yuan raised his brows, silently telling you to continue.

‘When you wanted my attention, you would sit next to me and rest your head on my shoulder before falling asleep.’ You added and Jing yuan chuckles. ‘I didn’t-‘

‘All. The. Time.’ You cut him off, emphasising each word that left your mouth. ‘Yangqing told me that you only did that to me, no one else got that special treatment from the all mighty general.’ You smirked at Jing Yuan who muttered a soft ‘Yangqing.’ under his breath as you held onto his side. ‘It doesn’t matter now because I thought it was extremely cute.’ You reassured him with a kiss to the cheek as you both walked home, tucked closely against one another, the events that happened prior having completely been forgotten as you reminisced the past.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr imagines #hsr imagine #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #Honkai star rail imagine #Honkai star rail imagines #hsr boothill x reader #hsr jing yuan x reader #hsr argenti x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan imagine #jjng yuan imagines #argenti x reader #Argenti imagine #Argenti imagines #boothill x reader #boothill imagine #boothill imagines

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estrellami-1 · 10 months

Text

If I Should Stay

Holy shit, y’all are insane. My tag list is over a HUNDRED (wtf y’all I’m kissing every single one of you on the forehead it was EIGHT before this) and the first part got over 800 notes in 24 hours. I love y’all 😂 With that being said though, Tumblr only allows for 50 mentions per post. So I’m drafting another post with the other 50-odd mentions that I’ll link this to. Unfortunately I’m not willing to make more than two posts, meaning my tag list is officially CLOSED. I’m so sorry, y’all, please know I love every single one of you SO much!! If you’d like to follow along and didn’t make it onto the taglist, go ahead and follow the ‘#if I should stay’ tag. I’ll make sure to use this tag for every update! Thank you all SO SO MUCH!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ and if you want to be dropped from the taglist, that’s fine too; just let me know! ❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Steve is terrified.

Honestly, after the Russians and the Upside Down and everything else, Steve thought he’d never be scared again.

Then he woke up in school in 1984.

He looks around, wide-eyed, only to stop when Tommy and Carol look at him weirdly. “Uh, Steve?” Carol asks. “You look like you’re about to puke.”

Full of tact, just like always. He shakes off the feeling of wrong crawling on his skin and smiles at her. “I’m fine,” he says, when nothing could be further from the truth.

She opens her mouth to respond. Steve breathes a sigh of relief when the bell goes off, only for him to realize he has no idea where he’s going.

Thank God for Carol, apparently, because she throws her head back with a groan. “Math,” she complains. “I hate math.”

Steve feels a zing of recognition dart through him. He had English while she was in math. They used to complain about it between classes.

He feels excited when he realizes Robin will be in this class, then just as suddenly excitement turns to nausea when he realizes she might not remember him.

He walks into class, trying to keep his hopes down, and briefly makes eye contact with her.

She’s doodling in a notebook, looking around the room. Their eyes meet.

Robin’s pencil lead snaps.

Steve freezes.

He opens his mouth, he’s not sure for what, but she shakes her head slightly.

She stands and makes her way towards him before her eyes flutter back in her head and she drops.

She would’ve fallen on the ground if he hadn’t caught her. Whispers start up, enough to get the teacher to look up. “Mr. Harrington,” she says. “I’m not sure what dance moves you think you’re trying, but I will remind you this is an English classroom.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says. “Um. She passed out. I think I should probably take her to the nurse.”

She leans over her desk to peer first at Steve, then at Robin, who still has her eyes closed. “Very well,” she says. “I’ll give you a hall pass. Please ensure she returns once her little spell has worn off.”

He nods, shifts Robin completely into his arms, and walks out of the classroom.

He walks down the hallway and stops by an empty classroom, darting in when nobody’s looking. “Robs,” he chokes, and her arms are around his neck and now he’s choking for an entirely different reason.

She’s shaking, and he feels hot tears land on his shoulder, and he knows she feels the same from his tears. “I thought-”

“I know,” Steve whispers. “I thought the same. I woke up and I was with Tommy and Carol again and I didn’t know what was going on and I was terrified you weren’t gonna remember me.”

“Jesus,” she says. She’s laughing a little, through her tears. “Imagine how I felt, waking up in Mrs. Click’s class. Thought I’d had a weird fever dream. Then you walked in, and…”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Jesus, Robs, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Right back atcha, Dingus,” she whispers, which really just makes his tears start all over again. “Who else do you think knows?”

Steve sighs. “I don’t know. And other than asking them, and risking getting sent to a padded room…”

“Yeah.” Robin sighs.

“Oh, fuck,” Steve says, tensing up.

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m still with Nancy.”

I tried to tag everyone who wanted it… I’m so sorry if I missed you! Once again I’m so sorry about closing the taglist. Thank you for understanding! ❤️

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @local-writers-corner @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

@paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry

Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @little-gae-shit

Me @ all of you:

#if I should stay #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #platonic stobin #robin buckley #we gonna see Nancy pretty soon here #also Jonathan #maybe #also I have no idea how the timeline works #starambles

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aliaology · 3 months

Text

WORK SONG

summary: jacks mind runs constantly, and you’re the reason

small a/n: per usual, readers looks wont be described, so reader can look however you want ♡ , does get slightly sensual! not tagging ppl for this one bc i forgot my taglist and im sleepy

pairings: jack hughes x fem!reader

not doing my tags bc im too lazy for this rn

boys workin’ on empty, is that the kinda way to face the burning heat? i just think about my baby. im so full of love i could barely eat

being in love was a full time job, and jack had no complaints. he loved being in love because it meant waking up next to you. it meant he was able to touch you, to feel you, to be with you. oh— how he loved it. he didn’t care if he was at practice, just thinking about you, because you were his motivator. he didn’t need drinks or food or sleep to play, just you.

you brought him the strength he craved, you were his number one fan. the one who supported him through thick and thin even when he was wrong. the one who held their hand out, so he could grab it and begin to climb. you were such an angel.

there’s nothing sweeter than my baby. i’d never want once from the cherry tree. ‘cause my baby’s sweet as can be. she’d give me toothaches just from kissin’ me.

your kisses were sweet. the way you’d pepper them against his skin, over and over and over again, made him fall deeply. you were his muse and your sound was so pretty. the way your mouth would drop open, noises escaping it. oh how you were so beautiful.

your lips tasted like cherries, a favorite fruit that he began liking the second his tongue met with the flavor of you. the flavor would linger, no matter what lips he kissed.

the feeling of your fingers on his face, or his lips, anywhere on his body, was like heaven. giving into you like a drug— he was addicted. he loved your touch, no matter if it was gentle, or the scratches you’d leave on his back. he yearned for more.

and i was burning up a fever. i didn’t care much how long i lived. i swear i thought i dreamed her. she never asked me once about the wrong i did.

jack hated being sick just because of the feeling. the feeling of a stuffy nose, a headache, the cough. all of it. but you somehow made it good. the way you would take care of him, pressing a cold cloth to his forehead when he had a fever. or when you’d make soup from scratch, your grandmas recipe that you keep a secret.

you were too good to be true. you were the embodiment of perfect in jacks eyes. everything about you. from how you spoke and how your tone was always gentle — to how you felt inside and out. every time you grip jacks hand hard— he swears he’s dreaming. you can’t be real. you were ethereal.

my babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done. if the lord dont forgive me, i’d still have my baby and my babe would have me.

jack didn’t like you worrying. he hated it, hated how you would get so scared that he would leave to go back to an ex. how you thought you were nothing compared to them— but you were so much more. you were his everything. the one who kept him going. you were his sun, he revolved around you. he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“baby— what if they ever want you back? they’re so pretty.”

“oh baby, they could never compare to you.”

he didn’t care what he’d have to do, but he’d do it all for you to stay happy. in his eyes, you hung the universe. you were his universe.

when i was kissing on my baby, and she put her love down soft and sweet. in the low lamp light i was free. heaven and hell were words to me.

being able to press slow kisses to your neck and shoulders were his favorite things to do. or watching your soft body rock gently with his as your sweet love lit him up. you made jack forget everything in the world no matter where you were. you made jack forget everything else just by talking to him.

skin on skin, heavy breathing, sloppy kisses, it was all sweet. it was all you, you and your love. no time with him was for the hell of it. all of it was love, pure and desirable.

when my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. no grave can hold my body down, ill crawl home to her.

love. jack loved being in love. he hated the saying ‘til death do us part’ and it wasn’t because he didn’t believe it. he hated it because it would never apply to him. he wanted a saying that would be one he could hold onto forever, just like your hand. he wouldn’t part ways with you once death decided to take over.

no— he’d hold you the entire time. he’d be with you no matter where you were. he’d wait until you two met again— and then he’d take you to another universe because in every one of them, you were soulmates.

jack would not let a grave, or death, part you two. he would hold onto you whether it be with one hand, or with his heart.

#hockey #jack hughes #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #new jersey #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #jack hughes imagine #jh86 #jhughes #jhugh #jhugh86 #hughes

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seravphs · 11 months

Text

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — TEEN DAD! GOJO SATORU x FEM READER

The Zenins want Megumi. Gojo isn’t having it.

wc — 1.7k

tags — one suggestive line after “those girls are better off without you” if you want to avoid it, set after 棠, part of teen dad gojoverse, in which you and Gojo raise Megumi together

Gojo’s been in the doghouse since last night. Not literally, obviously - though he might have preferred it if you were there with him, at least. He’d take anything over being kicked out of your shared bedroom and being forced to sleep on the couch.

If you had it your way, you’d prolong his punishment, but you can’t. Not when, as he told you last night, the Zenins are coming today to wrest Megumi from your custody.

Fat chance.

You’d die before you let that happen.

Gojo’s not too keen on either of those outcomes. For the first time in his life, he’s taking the pacifist’s route and talking it out, though you’re sure his version of talking involves more insults than most people’s.

He thought about simply having it out with the elders, but it’s not worth it. Not when he has a plan for the future of Jujutsu Society. Not when he has you, Megumi, and Tsumiki. He’s playing the long game. He can’t afford to screw it up now.

Being a family man really has ruined him.

Zenin Keiko is a tall woman with a severe black bob and the characteristic Zenin look of perpetual contempt. She’s Naoya’s cousin, alright.

“Twice-removed,” Gojo whispers to you. “Or illegitimate. Something like that, I can’t remember.”

“Shut up,” you whisper back out of the corner of your mouth. “She’s going to hear you.”

Welcoming a Zenin into your home feels like blasphemy, though you suppose Gojo is the closest thing Jujutsu society has to a god.

Gojo’s unimpressed by her, mostly because he feels like the Zenins are mocking him. It’s not like anyone can take him on, but to send someone who has no battle capabilities feels like an insult.

Keiko is an auxiliary manager with no cursed technique to speak of besides a weak barrier. It’s a wonder she has the nerve to speak to Gojo. The Zenins truly did not care about her if they sent her as the proxy to undermine your roles as the Fushiguro children’s guardians. In fact, you suspect that’s the precise reason she was chosen - because she’s expendable.

Keiko, to her credit, shows no sign of fear.

“I’d like to meet the children, Mr. Gojo. It’ll give me a good grasp of what the situation is.”

“Hell no,” Gojo outright laughs in her face. “I’m not letting a Zenin near my brats. Your-“

“Gojo.” You squeeze his knee. Cooperate.

“I’ll go get them,” he says begrudgingly.

The two of you sandwich the children between you on the couch. Tsumiki sits on Gojo’s left. Megumi sits on your right. That way, the two that are most likely to fight are separated. It’s a strategized united front.

“Megumi, do you like your guardians? Do you like staying here?”

Megumi looks at you. You smile at him encouragingly - and there Keiko goes, scribbling away in her notebook. She’s probably saying something about how Megumi is so scared of you he won’t answer the question unless you give him permission.

“Are you sure? Forgive me, but Gojo seems a little…immature for a parent.”

A direct attack right out of the gates. Gojo objects to this very accurate assessment of his character.

“He’s fine, I guess,” Megumi says. There’s more scribbling. You’re starting to hate the sound of pen on paper. “I like-“

He looks at you. There’s a tiny blush on his cheeks, just the faintest hint of red. More quietly, he says, “It’s fine, cause she takes care of us.”

Gojo stares at him, slack-jawed. “Are you kidding me? You are one ungrateful brat. Who found you? Who took you in?”

Tsumiki chimes in, “We like Gojo a lot too! He’s fun.”

Keiko ignores her completely, focusing on Megumi instead. Your distaste for her grows.

“Would you say that Gojo has an active role in taking care of you?”

“Why aren’t you asking Tsumiki anything?” Megumi interrupts. “Her opinion’s important too.”

Keiko gives him a strained smile. Gojo reaches behind Tsumiki on the couch to ruffle Megumi’s hair. He only tolerates this for five seconds before he shakes his head to get him off.

“He loves me,” Gojo says.

“I have Stockholm syndrome,” Megumi says. ‘Help,’ he mouthes.

“He’s joking,” Tsumiki says nervously.

You’ve given up on making them behave. It’s just not happening.

Keiko seems to have given up too. Rather than continue prodding Megumi, she turns to Gojo.

“How often are you home?”

“Basically every day,” Gojo lies. He does try his best, but it’s more like every other day. Such is the fate of the strongest sorcerer.

“Don’t want my baby all alone, poor little thing.”

He catches your look and cackles. “No, the other one. My other baby,” and the kiss he presses to your knuckles is so tender it melts your heart.

Keiko makes an uncomfortable expression. “Please try to stay focused, Mr. Gojo.”

Megumi gags loudly. Tsumiki pinches his arm to get him to shut up and he yelps. Keiko narrows her eyes and makes another note.

“I understand how Gojo might take responsibility for the children,” Keiko says, directing her attention to you, “but how did you come into the picture. Are you a girlfriend-“

“Wife,” Gojo interjects.

Keiko’s entire body does an approximation of what it would look if a human had a screenshot function.

“Aren’t you children?”

You don’t like Keiko at all, but you respect the balls it takes to talk to Gojo like that. All the Zenins seem to have that death wish of wanting to mouth off to the strongest. Maybe it’s a genetic thing.

Gojo shrugs. “If I’m old enough for the missions you send me on, I’m old enough to take care of kids, right? How hard can it be?”

You pinch his thigh. “Gojo.”

“What? It is easy. You just give them a bunch of lollipops and call it a day.”

Keiko’s writing is now background noise to you. “Are you still doing that? I told you-“

“It’s fine! All kids need sugar to grow. I had a sweet tooth when I was their age.”

“And that’s probably the reason why you still have one now! Except it’s rotting your teeth-“

“It’s not-“

“It is!”

“Don’t be so uptight!”

“How does it look if I’m always saying no to him and you’re always saying yes? It isn’t fair, Satoru. Parenting has to be a team effort.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you playing good cop, bad cop with him!”

“Have you gone insane? We went over this! He likes you more than me! There is no good cop, bad cop when he just takes your side every single time.”

“Excuse me,” Keiko says. She’s somehow managed to look a complex combination of perplexed, annoyed, and satisfied. “Please take care of your lovers’ tiffs outside of this interview. I will say that this doesn’t seem like an environment particularly conducive to raising children, however.”

“What do you know?” Gojo says rudely. “The only reason you’re even doing this interview is because I’m letting you.”

Normally, you would tell him off, but in front of the Zenins? You’re a united front. You place a hand on his forearm and look down your nose at the woman in front of you as best as you can when she’s taller than most people you meet.

“I think you’ve overstayed your welcome,” you say.

“You agreed to an interview,” she says.

“An interview, not an inquisition.”

“You can’t refuse a request from the elders without consequences,” she says, as patiently as she would speak to a child. It’s condescending.

“Are you threatening my wife?”

When you look to your side, Gojo’s face is shadowed. His eyes are storm dark and frightening. Keiko can’t hide her visceral reaction.

She forgets her coat on her way out, she’s in such a hurry to leave. Gojo takes it and disappears.

While he’s away, you let Megumi and Tsumiki return to their rooms. They’re muttering amongst themselves, but you don’t pry. Children need their space, too. You’ll talk to them about it later.

He’s back within a minute.

“What did you do with it?” You’re bracing yourself for the answer.

“I just sent a message,” he says, as cheerily as if nothing had happened. “Think we passed that?”

“Gojo, I think that’s the first test you’ve ever failed. Did you see the way she was writing during the last twenty minutes? And Megumi and Tsumiki! Every time they said something, she made a face!”

Gojo shrugs, still so certain of his place in the hierarchy. One day, the elders will get tired of him throwing his weight around like Jujutsu’s one and only tyrant, but not someday soon if they want to keep their heads.

“It’s fine,” he says. “I’m not going to make Megumi and Tsumiki act like repressed little puppet children just so that they can find some way to snipe them out from under us anyways. Who knows, maybe we’ll teach the Zenins a thing or two about healthy child raising. I hear they have two girls now. One of them has no cursed energy. Should we kidnap some more children?”

“Like you know anything about healthy parenting,” you snark. “Those girls are better off without you.”

“Does being mean to me get you off or something?”

“Do you want to find out?”

“I would love to,” he purrs, sliding a hand under your shirt just so slightly so his nails prick at your lower stomach. You grab his wrist.

“Sorry,” you say, your stomach churning at the joke gone wrong. “I can’t.”

He stops immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“I just- They want Megumi badly enough to go to the higher ups. I know what they do to their children. I can’t let him go there, Satoru. I can’t.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“I can’t stop thinking about those girls.”

“Come here,” he says.

You lean closer to him. He lifts his arm so easily, without thinking. When you slide under it, you fit into him perfectly.

Now that you’re safely tucked under his arm, you feel sheltered from anything that could happen. “I don’t want to give the kids to the Zenins. They’re monsters. And they would make monsters out of them.”

“That’s only if they take them away,” Gojo says, his smile fanged and vicious.

“And if they do?”

“I hope they try.”

You trust him.

You know he’ll keep his word. If Gojo says Megumi and Tsumiki won’t be going to the Zenins as long as he’s alive, then they won’t be going at all.

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 2 months

Note

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMMAb4KUo/

Smut w biker Ethan Landry ?!

Hi💕 I hope you like it! I got out of the hang of writing over the last few days so I might go back and make a few changes once i re-read over this at some point lmao

Roll Up - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This Contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: Your boyfriend's new hobby scares you, but he shows you it isn't that bad.

Contains: Oral(f receiving), p in v, rough-ish sex.

A/N: We're going to pretend that this isn't based off of the photoshopped pics of Jack lmao. If this sucks, don't let me know. I'm sensitive👉👈

When your boyfriend mentioned getting his motorcycle license, you thought he was crazy. You even created a power point presentation, showing him how dumb of an idea it was. He just rolled his eyes every time you made a good point, because he knew it was what he was going to do regardless.

“You aren’t going to break up with me if I get a bike, are you?” he asked, putting on his shoes as he got ready to go take the driving test. “I think it’d be a lot of fun to have one.”

“It’d take a lot more for me to break up with you…but what if something happens to you? I’d just be worried the whole time you were out,” you sighed, getting a little anxious.

You heard a knock on the door, as Ethan walked away from you to answer it. You took a deep breath when Chad walked in, carrying his extra helmet for Ethan.

“Why’d you have to corrupt my sweet boyfriend?” you asked, as Chad smiled at you.

“I think you’ll like it…Tara does,” he said, smirking at Ethan as he handed him the helmet.

“Yeah, what if I get one and you can’t keep your hands off me?” Ethan asked, cocking his eyebrow as he looked at you. “I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah, and I’d not like to hear the sound of your eulogy being spoken,” you said, as Ethan scoffed.

“You’re so overdramatic,” he said, walking over to kiss you. He placed a kiss to the tip of your nose, your lips, and your forehead before he pulled away. “I love you, baby. Wish me luck.”

“I love you, too,” you said, as both boys walked to the door. Ethan stood in the doorway for a minute, waiting for you to hear the other thing he needed you to say. “Fuck it, fine. Good luck. Please, just be careful.”

“I will, babe,” he said, chuckling as he walked out.

One thing about Ethan was that the second he got an idea in his head, you knew he was going to stop at nothing to get what he wanted. This was by far the scariest thing he’d ever wanted to do, and you’d done nothing but panic whenever you thought about it.

It all started when Chad brought Ethan to his friend’s garage, and they were talking about Chad getting his license. At first you laughed it off, thinking it was about Ethan wanting to have more in common with his best friend, but once you saw him browsing for bikes online, you realized how serious he was about it.

Once he got his learners, he started to spend more time with Chad and his friend. He’d lay in bed with you until you fell asleep, then sneak out of the bed once he’d get the text from Chad that he was outside. You hated it when you’d roll over and he wasn’t beside you, but you wanted him to practice when there were a lot less cars on the road.

He was always in the best mood when he’d come back home, still feeling the adrenaline. He tried to be quiet when he snuck back in, but you always woke up. You’d jump out of bed once you heard the shower cut on, strip off your clothes, and join him in the steamy bathroom. He’d tell you all the things he did and new stuff he learned as you sleepily listened, but it always ended in the hottest shower sex you’d ever had.

You kept checking the time on your phone, wondering what was taking Ethan so long to get back home. It’d been a few hours, and you were trying to prepare yourself. As worried as you were for him to get his license, you knew you’d be excited for him. But the possibility of him not getting it worried you more than if he did. You knew how much he wanted it, and you knew he’d be upset if he didn’t get it.

Once you saw Ethan’s name and picture flash across your phone screen, you quickly answered the call.

“Hey, babe,” you said, “How’d it go?”

You heard traffic passing him and sirens off in the distance.

“Come outside, I want to show you something.” You could hear the happiness in his voice, and you kind of had a hunch about what your boyfriend had done. Once you made your way down the stairs of your apartment complex and saw him standing there, a helmet under his arm and the matte black bike behind him, you didn’t know how to feel.

“I guess you passed,” you said, your eyes squinting as the early afternoon sunlight hit them just right. “I’m proud of you, baby.”

“I can still tell you’re mad,” he teased, as he leaned down to kiss you. “but thank you.”

“This is yours, isn’t it?” you asked, as he tried to fight off the excited smile.

“Yeah, I hope you don’t hate me because I didn’t talk to you about it first,” he said, reaching around and grabbing the extra helmet off the bike seat. “I want you to go on a ride with me.”

“Absolutely not,” you said, his smile dropping at your words. “Not right now, can we go out later tonight? I’m a little scared and I’d feel better if I didn’t feel like we were going to get hit.”

“Of course,” he said, his smile appearing on his lips again. “I think you’ll love it.”

“Whatever you say,” you said, as he grabbed your hand and led you inside.

As it got darker outside, Ethan got more excited. He knew how close he was to taking you out to see what made him almost as happy as you do. As much as you were freaking out, you knew he’d never put you in danger, and you really wanted to know what the big deal was.

“Okay,” Ethan said, as you slipped your hoodie over your head. “Just a few quick things…I know it’s a little scary, but you need to lean into any turns we take. Don’t ever let go of me and sit as close to me as you can.”

“If we lean, won’t you lose control?” you questioned, as he shook his head.

“We’re not doing anything crazy so don’t think I’m going to take you on any super curvy roads…but if you stay upright when we need to lean, that could cause me to lose control.”

“Okay,” you sighed, as he handed you the helmet.

He looked you over to make sure nothing on you was loose fitting and made sure your helmet was good before he slung his leg over the bike.

“You coming?” he asked, his hand reaching out to help you on.

“There’s not a lot of room back here,” you said, as he slid his helmet over his head.

“I already told you, just hold on to me, and stay as close as you can. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said, his words a little muffled. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you said, as he started the bike. Your arms tightly wrapped around him, his hand rubbing against your thigh to let you know he had you before he pulled off.

He took you on a few of the streets he first learned how to drive on, not wanting to freak you out too much. Once you came to a stop light, he started to yell over the hum of the bike.

“You okay?” he asked, his hand moving to rub against your thigh again.

“Yeah, you aren’t going very fast, though,” you yelled back, as he started to laugh to himself.

“You want me to go faster?” he asked, “I just didn’t want to scare you.”

“You can go faster, just don’t kill us,” you said, as the light turned green.

He revved the engine before he sped off, going significantly faster than he did before. You didn’t feel scared though, you were…turned on? You weren’t sure if it was the vibrations coming from the bike, or how hot your boyfriend was at that moment, but you knew you were going to jump him as soon as the two of you got back home.

He started to drive out of the city, taking you to one of the back roads he’d always pull off at with his friends. He stopped in the gravel area and helped you off the bike before he got off.

“Was that too much?” he asked, pulling the helmet off of his head. You quickly pulled yours off, mumbling a “No” as you stood on your tippy toes to kiss him. Your hands went up to his curls as his tongue brushed against your bottom lip to deepen the kiss. You stood there making out, the only light coming from the full moon and the glow of the headlights.

“We need to go home soon,” you said against his lips, “I understand why you always want sex after your late-night rides.”

“We’ll head home soon babe,” he said, his hand reaching down to squeeze your ass as he pulled you closer. “Or…we could do it right here.”

“I know this is a back road, but someone could still see us,” you said, glancing at the road for any other cars off in the distance.

“So what?” he asked, as his lips moved to your neck.

He pulled away once he heard the familiar loud hum heading up the road, slowing down a little once it got closer to where you and Ethan were.

“Is that Chad?” you asked, as Ethan nodded.

“Tara’s with him,” he said, noticing her tiny frame tightly clinging to him. “Good think I didn’t get you naked yet,” he laughed a little, thinking about how awkward that would’ve been.

“You know how I am when I want sex and I don’t get it,” you said, giving him a warning look. “Please don’t get caught up in talking for too long.”

“I won’t, babe,” he said, as Chad pulled in and took his helmet off.

“She didn’t kill you!” Chad yelled, as you rolled your eyes.

Ethan walked up to him as you walked over to Tara. She had the biggest smile on her face when she saw you standing there.

“Ahh! We can go on late night rides together, now!” she said, pulling you into a hug. “Isn’t this fun?”

“Yeah, I thought it was going to be scary,” you said, glancing over to Ethan to see him smiling at you. “Now I just have to convince him to take me home soon.”

“I get it, I feel the same way,” she said, picking up on your suggestiveness.

When Ethan walked around to you, he looked a little nervous as Chad motioned for Tara to get back on the bike.

“I hope you don’t mind, but Chad wants to ride around for a little bit. There’s this straight, flat road near here that we like to go way faster than we should, but if you’d rather go home, we can.”

“As long as we go home soon, I’m fine with it,” you said, as Ethan started to smile.

“Put your helmet back on,” he said, walking you back over to his bike.

He slid his over his head and helped you get on the back before he started it again and took off. You got a little confused once you hit a certain point in the road. Chad and Ethan both came to a stop on opposite sides, as you felt his hand grip your thigh.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, the question making you nervous as Chad gave him a thumbs up.

“Yeah,” you yelled, as he said, “Hold on tight.”

He revved the engine again before taking off, going way faster than he’d gone before, at least while you were on the back. The way you were rested against Ethan made it easy for you to see that Chad was keeping pace with him before he dropped a gear and flew past Ethan. Ethan did the same, your grip on him getting even tighter as you felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins. He quickly caught back up to Chad and passed him before he started to slow down a little.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, once he came to a stop and your grip on him relaxed.

“If you don’t take me home and fuck me, I’m not going to be okay,” you said, as Chad pulled up beside you and pulled his helmet off.

“Fuck, that thing’s fast,” he said, as Ethan pulled his helmet off.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect it. We were going over a hundred,” Ethan said, your eyes going wide as you listened to him speak. “I’m going to take her home.”

“You coming back out later?” Chad asked, as Ethan shook his head.

“No, I have other plans,” he said, as Chad nodded.

“You guys have fun. Don’t be an idiot,” Chad said, putting his helmet back on before speeding off.

“Over a hundred?!” you yelled, as Ethan started to laugh.

“Yeah, and I wasn’t going as fast as I could’ve,” he said, putting his helmet back on. “Let’s get you home.”

As soon as he got you home, you both were so needy. Various clothing items were scattered across your apartment, from the front door to the bedroom you shared with Ethan. He wasted no time, burying his head in between your thighs as soon as he pushed you back on your bed. Your fingers ran through his curls as soft moans slipped past your lips. His hands were kneading at your thighs as his tongue swirled around your sensitive clit.

“Use your fingers, babe,” you gasped out, as he suckled on your clit. He did what you said, sliding two of his fingers into your soaked, dripping pussy with ease. “Fuck, just like that.”

“Did being on the back of my bike turn you on that much?” he asked, his eyes boring into yours as he curved his fingers to brush against that spongy spot inside of you. “Yes,” you said, letting out a low moan. “You were just so fucking hot.”

His mouth went back to your clit as you tugged at his curls, the sounds of him fucking you with his fingers and your moans filling the room. His free hand was roaming your body, from your thighs up to your breasts. Once he started to pinch one of your nipples, you felt that familiar feeling starting to build inside of you.

Ethan knew you were close. Your legs were starting to shake as his fingers moved against your g-spot faster. He sucked your clit into his mouth, hard. Your back arched up off the bed as you pulled his hair so hard that it hurt. He didn’t let up though.

You let out a whimper as the feeling washed over you, your pussy fluttering around his fingers. He gently lapped at your clit until you started to come down from your high.

The grip you had on his hair relaxed as he sat up to look at you, his mouth coated in your arousal.

“Do I still have hair?” he asked, running his fingers through his curls. His scalp was so sensitive that he winced when he touched it.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you mumbled, as your breathing started to get a little more regular.

“It’s worth it if I made you cum that hard,” he said, smiling at you. “I loved having you on the back of my bike. It’s like you weren’t scared at all.”

“I wasn’t. I trust you.”

As much as Ethan loved watching your face when he fucked you, he wanted to be as deep as he could inside your warm, wet pussy. He positioned you so your ass was sticking up in the air for him as the side of your face rested against the cool comforter.

“So fucking perfect,” he said, rubbing the tip of his cock over your wet folds. “You ready, baby?”

“Yes,” you said, as he started to inch himself inside of you. The slight burning feeling as he stretched you out made you gasp, his hand roaming over your lower back as his hip bones met the curve of your ass.

He started out with slow thrusts, still giving you time to adjust. Once you whined out to let him know you wanted more, he moved faster. You heard the soft slapping of his skin against yours as the head of his cock hit that special spot inside of you. You glanced back to see him watching his cock disappear inside your pussy, slide himself out, head and all, before he started to pound into you.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, your eyes still on him as your hands grabbed at the sheets.

He looked up to watch your body as you started to roll your hips back, meeting his thrusts. His cheeks were red as his mouth hung open, a few of his curls sticking to his forehead. One of his hands tightly held your hip as his other hand reached around brushing against your lower stomach. You soon felt two of his fingers strumming against your clit, your moans getting louder by the second.

“Harder,” you whimpered, a smirk playing on his lips as he started to mercilessly pound into your pussy.

“That’s it, baby. You take it so fucking well,” he said, some of his words getting broken by the random grunts slipping past his lips.

Once he put the right amount of pressure on your clit and started to roll his fingers in circles, you felt your body start to tense up, your orgasm sneaking up on you. You were a whimpering mess as the slapping sounds got louder, echoing off the walls. He was getting close, but he was trying so hard to fight it.

He watched your fists ball up in the fitted sheet, pulling it lose as you cried out. Your pussy was squeezing him so tight that his thrusts started to falter.

“Where do you want it?” he rushed out, but you couldn’t form words, completely fucked out.

He slid out of you, releasing his hot cum all over your ass and lower back. His hand ran through his sweaty hair before he flopped down on the bed beside you. Your hips started to relax as you eased the lower half of your body to lay flat across the bed.

“Jesus,” he sighed, catching his breath. “That was amazing.”

“Was it as good as the shower sex?” you asked, smiling as you turned your head to face him.

“Well, we do still need to shower…”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut #smut

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mrsriddlenott · 7 months

Text

~ Caught VI ~

Mattheo Riddle x fem!Reader

[masterlist][last part]

This is gonna be Christmas centered(gift giving and such)even though it’s almost Halloween😭🤷‍♀️thought it was cute.

I’m sorry if this is a bit long, I’m tryna get in some real plot with this chapter🤞🥰

Warnings: A Lil Angst(in the beginning), VeryFluffy,SweetSmut,Unprotected PinV, DaddyKink. Sex Toys Mentioned&Alludes to Bondage(future pt😉)

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be in here?” Mattheo asked in a hushed whisper as you pushed the heavy door of your manor’s library shut behind you both.

“I’m the only one who ever comes in here, they won’t even hear us talking all the way in the back.” You sighed out, the ball had just ended and your father had unsurprisingly pulled your mother into his study, likely to “brief” her on his plans.

“I know I should have told you ages ago and it was wrong of me to keep it from you….and all of our friends. But I just couldn’t, I couldn’t even form the words to tell you he was a Death Eater, let alone what he’s been planning since….he went into hiding.” Mattheo listened to your hushed words intently, wincing slightly at your mention of his father as you led him to a small leather loveseat in the far back corner of the large, dusty library.

“I knew I’d tell you eventually….I guess I just got so caught up in everything else that I never decided to try. Or maybe I was just too scared you’d never talk to me again. Honestly I don’t know.” You shook your head as you sat on the cold leather, Mattheo remained hovering, standing in front of you as you avoided his eyes.

“I had a half-brother, Will. He died before I was born in the First Wizarding War. My dad tried to run with his first wife, so his wife and son were killed. He married my mom for the money that marrying into my grandfather’s family promised, and then had me to make sure he got the inheritance.” You didn’t notice when you started crying or when Mattheo joined you on the seat to comfort you. The story was clear in your mind as though it happened to you, you grew up under your fathers hatred, and knew every small detail of his obsession.

Your father was one of very few people who knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the Dark Lord did not die on Halloween of ‘81, and when he inevitably came back to power almost 3 years ago, it all was meant to fall into action. Your father played the dutiful follower as he weaseled his way into his inner circle. Your mother was to play the innocent housewife as she absorbed all information from the wives and husbands of the other Death Eaters. And you….you were to get their children to tell you anything they knew of their parents assignments. However, you threw a wrench in that plan before it even began, you’d never hurt your friends, and once you started dating Mattheo it was solidified.

And your father hated you for it.

It only took one year at Hogwarts for your love of your friends to overpower your love for your father. You fed him lies and misinformation or avoided home all together, but somehow could never come out and tell your friends why you introduced yourself to them in the first place. By the time you realized you should have, they were your new family, you couldn’t imagine them turning around and hating you just because of this mistake. So whether consciously or not you weren’t sure, but you hid it, for almost 6 years, you hid it. Even as your father approached his goal, even knowing all of their families would be caught in the crossfire when he succeeded.

“You don’t need to tell me it all tonight,” Mattheo whispered in a small voice nothing like his usual cocky tone. Your bloodshot eyes met his in a pleading look as you tried to speak.

“No I do, I….I should have told you years ago, I should have told all of you years ago.” Mattheo was a smart person, he’d already guessed what your role in this was, and considering him and his father were still very much alive, he also guessed you didn’t quite play the role you were given correctly. Despite the pit in his stomach about what he’s going to have to do to protect you, he was soaring over your loyalty. The fact that you were here in front of him, and not in your fathers study, had his heart hammering in his chest. If he hadn’t already planned to marry you, he certainly would have decided to right here.

“No Gorgeous, you really don’t….I think….I think I already know.” He sighed with a soft smile as he took your chin in his thumb and forefinger, turning you to look at him with your bloodshot, teary eyes. Mattheo delicately brought the thumb of his other hand to wipe your tears away, like you were a piece of art he was preserving. His lips followed suit, pampering light kisses down both your cheeks as he whisperered, “It’s okay y/n, I know and I’m still here, I’m always going to be here.”

Your body practically fell into him as you collapsed into sobs of gratitude and relief. Mattheo’s arms wrapped around you as though it was what they were made to do, pulling you into his lap as he settled into the loveseat further. He let you sob into his neck, brushing tangles from your hair with his fingers and speaking softly of your future together in your ear until you were silently breathing deeply and lightly snoring into him.

“You’re safe Baby, you’ll never have to come back here I promise you that.” Mattheo listened to your breathing deepen as you fell into a dreamless sleep in his arms, but continued to speak, “You’re the only part of this world that matters Darling,” He nuzzled his nose into your hair as his eyelids fell, content right here with you, “I will let it all burn just for you my beautiful Angel” He let out a deep sigh as though finally stripping himself of a great burden on his shoulders, “You’re all that matters to me,” His fingers curled into you hair deeper as his hand on your waist pulled your sleeping form in closer in a protective hold.

He stayed holding you for what felt like an eternity while so short at the same time before gently rising with you in his arms, carrying you bridal style as he maneuvered through the dusty bookshelves to the door. He found your room easily, he’d been there before as a child, you and the rest of the boys had spent practically all of Winter, Spring, and Summer Holiday your First Year there. He’d never understood why you’d never invited them again, but now he saw it clearly as a form of protection. Your father likely loved the idea of the sons of all of Voldemorts best followers, and his own son, coming around his manor with their guards down.

It was much different now, the large circular bed in front of the arched window was now covered in shades of red with black pillows instead of the purples he’d remembered from years ago. The vanity directly across the bed was new as well, it’s large mirror sparkled with the reflection of the stars behind the headboard of your bed as he placed you on it. He swore you looked like a princess, the color of your dress clashing with the bed only drawing his attention to you more while he retreated to remove your heels, struggling to unclip them before tossing them aside with a huff of annoyance.

You stirred slightly as he untied the strings on the back of your dress and began softly pulling it down. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with it so just draped it across a fuzzy chair in the corner with a shrug before ridding himself of his tie, suit jacket, and pants. He unbuttoned his shirt as he crawled slowly onto the bed behind you, trying his hardest to let you sleep while attempting to get his shirt on over your arms. You woke up only for a second, allowing him to slip you into his shirt as you voiced your annoyance in a few grumbled sentences before slipping back into your dreams, snuggling into his scent and giving him a warm feeling in his chest.

He found it easy to fall into a dreamless sleep, something he was never used to until you were a constant in his life. Under your blankets surrounded by your scent, he felt safe, he felt you were safe, he pulled you into his chest with a content sigh. He’d been waiting weeks to sleep beside you again, and he didn’t plan to be sleeping alone anytime soon.

The next morning Mattheo woke you with kisses to your neck and face, allowing you to adjust to the early morning light before ushering you to get dressed and ready to go. “We’re going back to Hogwarts….or anywhere you want…” Just not here, he thought, wanting more than anything to have you out of this house before your father even realized he planned to.

Repacking your trunk was much faster with Mattheo grabbing things and throwing them in before yanking it up and escorting you out of your own house. Before you recognized what was happening you were being Apparated to right outside the Hogwarts grounds and tugged through a tunnel you had no idea existed.

“Matty what is this?” The tunnel was cramped, barley enough space for the both of you as he guided you around as though he’d been there before.

“It’s a tunnel he made when he went here, not even Harry or the Weasleys know about it so we’ll be safe in here while we get back to the castle.” You didn’t need to ask who he meant by he and you definitely didn’t need to ask why he seemed to know it like the back of his hand.

“Oh” Your voice was small and meek as you started to realize he was keeping things from you too, you didn’t know whether to feel relieved that you weren’t the only one keeping secrets or worried about what he felt was too dangerous to inform you about. You knew he had unavoidable meetings with his father, you knew he had to do things to stay alive and you didn’t blame him, but it hurt you to think about the fact that you’d never really thought about what must be happening.

You’d seen his scars and fresh wounds every month, but he’d always say he had it under control and for some reason you always listened. A part if you wanted to know everything right then, while the other, much larger part, was wishing you’d run away with Mattheo when you had the chance.

After what felt like hours you emerged from behind a statue in a dimly lit corridor somewhere in the dungeons. Mattheo took your hand like it was second nature, allowing your trunk to float along behind him while escorting you to his dorm. The corridors were empty and cold, most of the remaining student body gone on holiday, the castle that used to bring comfort to generations of young witches and wizards, now held a lingering sense of danger, like something wrong was hiding just behind the corner.

And as you watched Mattheo’s focused eyes, clenched jaw, and possessive hand, you thought there just might be.

~~~~

Christmas at Hogwarts was always worth looking forward to, it gave even the most damaged of us a chance to let loose. But as you looked around the Slytherin Common room, realizing it was almost midnight on December 24th and not a single person seemed to care, you decided that just for the next 24 hours, there wasn’t a single thing wrong. You would tell everyone the truth on the 26th and everything would be okay. You were sure of it.

Even if it was just you and Mattheo, you were celebrating Christmas like you did every year. Huddled up in the boys dorm, drinking spiked hot chocolate, fighting over the best Christmas songs, and giving each other presents.

Mattheo wasn’t shocked to see you sauntering through his door with a bottle of firewhiskey and wrapped boxes as you had for the past 5 years. His heart sank slightly as he watched your eyes swivel around the un-decorated and empty dorm room.

“Wh-,” They had decorated their dorm room every year, at first it started with you bringing them little ornaments from a village by your manor your first Christmas together. By your second Christmas, Mattheo took it upon himself to buy a miniature Christmas tree. A memory you could never forget, a chilly December evening organizing only 5 ornaments along it. Arguing slightly all the way until Mattheo told the boys to just listen to you. It was one of the first moments you even realized you liked the curly headed boy.

From that year on, every member of the friend group was ensured to get at least one gift, a new ornament for the dorm tree. Which was still stuffed in it’s box under Mattheo’s nightstand. Mattheo followed your eyes to it and sighed, “I’m sorry Baby, I completely forgot to decorate this year and all the boys got an owl to come home so I did-“

“It’s okay Matty,” You gave him a soft smile as you set your bottle and packages on his bed and took your seat beside them.

“I’ll set it up now and we can decorate it together, Enzo and Blaise left some gifts behind so w-“ He stopped abruptly as you flopped backward further onto his bed with an exaggerated sigh.

“What a shame, all of your dorm mates gone and no way to be caught in the act, the horror,” You giggled slightly as your sarcasm began to settle in his mind and a smile tugged on his lip.

“Don’t act like you don’t absolutely love when we’re almost caught, I can feel how you clench around me Princess,” He stalked towards you as he leant himself against the bedposts at the end of the frame, eyeing the way you bit back a laugh and sat yourself up on your elbows.

“Okay Mr. “Scream My Name,” Your voice held an unusual mix of teasing and dominance that Mattheo wasn’t quite used to as you swayed your leg and watched while his tongue subconsciously wet his lips.

“Mmm, don’t tempt me Princess. I wanted to open presents first.” He faked a pout, watching your skirt slide up your moving thigh as your fingers moved to slowly unbutton your shirt.

“Am I not a present fit to be unwrapped Mr.Riddle?” You teased as you licked across you teeth and played at the second button on your shirt. Mattheo groaned from deep in his chest as his head fell backwards, his jaw clenched as he tried to collect himself.

“Baby, I have a plan and if you call me that again you’re gonna miss out. You don’t wanna miss out do you Gorgeous?” His eyes met yours, the dark spark you knew meant he was in control having you bite at your smile and shake your head, still slightly playing with the buttons on your shirt.

“Good girl, now come here,” Mattheo suddenly pushed off the bedposts and motioned for you to follow with a wiggle of two of his fingers.

“I thought I’d have to give these to you late but since you’re here,” Mattheo sighed happily as he pulled out a trunk from under his bed, “Sit on the edge….now.” You were slightly confused but after a second followed his orders, swaying your feet and waiting patiently as he unlocked the trunk with two loud clicks.

“Your first set,” You narrowed your eyes at him as he set two neatly wrapped black boxes beside you, both tied with a red bow. “First….set?” Mattheo only nodded his head with a happy little smile before urging you to open them with his outstretched hands. The first and smallest was expected, a delicate glass snowflake ornament hanging from a silver ribbon.

“Perfect, I can hang it on the tree when it’s set up,” You said happily as you gently set it back in it’s box, “Actually that’s gonna be the first to go on our tree.” Mattheo interjected, making you giggle up at him before realizing he was entirely serious.

“It may collect some dust while I find the perfect cottage for you,” He said with a wave of his hands, “but that’s the first place it’s going, nowhere else”

“Okay Matty, it’s decided,” You laughed as you grabbed at your, significantly less neat, golden wrapped package. Mattheo’s hand dramatically shot to his chest as his mouth dropped open, “For me?” he gasped sarcastically, ripping it from your hands as he opened it.

“Oh fuck Baby, is this the one we saw in Diagon Alley?” Mattheo’s voice was filled with excitement you rarely got to hear as he pulled out the thick silver ring with a snake tangled around the front. He haphazardly shoved it on each of his fingers before ultimately settling on his right pointer finger.

“How does it look Gorgeous?” He held up his pointer and middle finger, letting the others fall beside them as he watched you bite at your lip. “Can’t wait to find out what it’ll look like halfway inside of you…mm” He seemed to be in his own world as he eyed the ring, fitting perfectly with the other two he already wore on that hand, before shaking his head slightly, “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, your turn again.”

You shook your head, blinking rapidly with a shocked smile before reaching for the next box, his eyes lighting up to follow as though he’d just remembered what was hidden behind the wrapping paper. It was was longer and thinner than the last box, opening on a hinge to reveal a golden necklace with a heart shaped ruby dangling in the middle.

“Gods Matty….” You whispered, feeling across the necklace delicately with your fingertips. “It’s beautiful,”

“Can I put it on for you Princess?” Mattheo asked as he crawled on the bed around you, reaching for the necklace before you could answer. Clasping it quickly and leaving a kiss on the base of your neck, whispering with a confident smirk, “It has my initials carved in the middle of the heart.”

You chuckled as you felt at the pendent hanging between your collarbones, grabbing at the next package while Mattheo began kissing up and down the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as his breath fanned against your cold skin. You turned in his arms, handing him his hext gift with a smile. “And here’s your ornament,” Mattheo gasped as though he was offended, snatching the package mumbling, “Don’t ruin my surprise Baby,”

“I get you one every year, besides you don’t know what’s on it, now open it,” He huffed while ripping at the messily placed tape, halting slightly, staring down at a handmade ornament in the shape of a gingerbread house. A moving picture of you and him from almost two years ago sat where the door would have been, a picture that was taken only days after he realized he was madly in love with you, something he wasn’t sure you knew. Making it ten times better.

“I’ve changed my mind, your snowflake will be the second ornament on our tree.” His gaze met yours as a smile grew on his face, laughing while gently placing it into it’s box and leaning back to set it on his nightstand. “I wanna open my last one before you get more.”

Mattheo’s voice was stern and matter of factly, taking his last present from beside you as you nervously chewed the insides of your cheek. He wasted no time ripping into it, looking between you and the box as his brows bunched together, delicately pulling out a silk red tie, “Now, no offense Darling, but red isn’t really my color,”

“No….but it is mine.” Mattheo watched as you bit your lip before looking back at the box, realization settling in as he clutched the tie hard in his hand, closing his eyes as he groaned slightly.

“You know they say great minds think alike….” He spoke after a second of gathering himself, kissing your cheek before slipping off the bed and reaching back into the trunk, retreating with two larger wrapped boxes.

“This one first,” He all but shoved the box at you, watching you intently as he bounced in front of you. You slowly unwrapped the box, delicately removing each piece of tape as Mattheo narrowed his eyes at you threateningly. “I’m gonna open it myself if you don’t hurry up.”

“Okay okay” You giggled, tearing through the rest of the paper and throwing off the lid of a deep red box. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared down at its contents, a black blindfold neatly wrapped around a set of fuzzy handcuffs, a vibrator, and a collar on a chain. Your face burned as you looked up to a now very nervous Mattheo.

“Is it too much? Do you not like the idea? We can just move on to the next one if-“ He rambled as you looked up at him with a smile, reaching into the box as he spoke.

“Is this a remote Mattheo?” You asked teasingly, biting your lip at Mattheo’s sigh of relief from your demeanor. “Hell yeah it is Baby, that’s more for me though,” He was immediately back to his regular cocky self as he snatched the remote and slipped it into his pocket.

“Saved the best for last.” Mattheo sighed, handing you the largest of the four and watching you intently. He knew exactly which would he your favorite, and knew exactly which one to save for last. You smiled brightly up to him as you pulled out the red, loose weight thigh length dress from it’s box.

“Matty! I love it, thank you,” You practically screamed as you jumped up to hug him, laughing as he lifted you up by your waist. He chuckled in your ear, wrapping your legs around him, pulling you back to look at your face.

“Anything for you Gorgeous,” He said breathlessly as he smashed his lips into yours in a passionate kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs while his tongue began exploring your mouth immediately.

“Fucking hell I love you, you’re the best thing to ever happen to me ya know that,” He growled, kissing down your neck, nipping at it aggressively as he mindlessly cleared the bed of presents, papers, and boxes before laying you down softly and crawling up your body to meet your lips again. Mattheo quickly rid himself of his shirt, pulling at yours as you slid your skirt and panties off, Mattheo cursed as he jumped from the bed to shove his sweats and boxers off. Tripping over them in a rush to join you back on the bed, falling on you slightly as you fell into a fit of laughter.

“Yeah yeah whatever, come here,” He huffed, pulling your face in to an aggressive kiss. He nipped at your lips and battled your tongue with his, your teeth knocking together as you breathed heavily into each other’s mouths. His hands trailed slowly down your sides, stopping at your hips to tug you forward, plowing into without warning, a whine of a moan fell from you as Mattheo sighed and fell into you, holding himself up on his forearms as he began softly fucking into you.

Mattheo’s lips trailed along your shoulder, stoping only to moan as you circled your hips to his slow thrusts. Your fingers found themselves tangled his hair, tugging slightly as the others trailed down his toned back with a teasing scratch. He groaned in your ear, picking up his pace only slightly as he rocked his hips into yours. He lifted his head to meet your eyes as you clenched around him, steadying himself with a hand on your hip, increasing his pace further as he watched your head fall back with a moan of appreciation.

Mattheo felt himself twitch inside you as your nails dug into his back and tugged at his hair, he wasn’t gonna last long after not having you for weeks, but he wanted you to come first. He slowed himself down to an agonizingly slow pace as you whined under him, he balanced himself on a hand beside your head as he brushed his free hand from your hip down your thigh before suddenly bringing it to rush fast circles onto your clit. Picking up his pace and falling back into your neck, licking a stripe from the base of your neck to your ear, whisperering against it’s shell as you shivered, “You like that Princess? Do you like being fucked after I spoil you?”

All you could do to respond was nod weakly as he groaned against your bruised neck, “Do you like it when Daddy treats you like a Princess?” For a second Mattheo stalled, as though he didn’t mean to let the name slip, but quickly picked up his pace as you wiggled below him with a whine of “Yes”

He looked down at you with a wild, daring smile as his eyes darkened further, “Yes what?” He growled, thrusting into you harder as you tried to speak, jumbling your words as you began to lose focus.

“Daddy, ye- Oh fuck, Yes Dadd-“ Mattheo cut you off with a wicked smile as he ruthlessly pounded into you, you were shaking with the bed as his thrusts became irregular and his fingers slowed. Your head felt dizzy as you clamped around him, feeling his cum spill inside you sending you over the edge as you screamed his name.

You came together as Mattheo collapsed on top of you. “That’s much better than our past Christmas traditions,” You sighed in a breathless voice as Mattheo’s arms snaked around your naked waist, cuddling you into him while still inside.

“I love you, and I plan to spend every Christmas I have left with you,” Mattheo whispered in a suddenly very serious tone.

~~~~

Caught VII

I hope this Isn’t weird or anything because I absolutely love it🥰🥰

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