#oliver wood x fem!reader

[pappydaddy]

the tales of the infatuated (o.w.)

a/n: i am back and (hopefully) ready to write lovelies!

tv show/movie: harry potter

pairing: oliver wood x fem!shy!gyffindor!reader

requested

part one - there are parallels so read this one first please!

description: tales of oliver and y/n's relationship following the events of the woes of the highly overdramatic

warning: the reader is shy and beats herself up about it (slightly). please, as a shy person myself, never think being shy is bad or wrong in any way. being shy is 100% okay!

note: reader wears a lot of scarves and uses them to kind of hide when embarrassed.

taglist: @just-here-to-escape-reality | @rottenstyx | @boxofsilentwords | @badass-yn | @onyourgoddamnleft | @rootbeerfaygo | @i-always-come-back-xoxo | @spring-picnics | @lonely-simp | @slytherinambitiouss

a line through your user means i could not tag you for whatever reason! if you possibly changed your user, let me know and i will fix it on my taglist

masterlist | taglist | navigation

-not my gif -

  The air was filled with a sort of muddy smell. The kind of smell only found enjoyable since it meant spring was attacking the bitter cold, thawing the ground and bringing life back to the rather lifeless hills of Scotland. Oliver never really noticed the beauty within the changing of the seasons, all he noticed was that one day the scenery looked one way and the next it was different. Now, as he sat there, a warm cup of tea between his large, rough hands, listening to Y/N’s soft and naturally quiet voice talk about the changes in the season, he finally realized it was more than just disappearing snow or dying leaves. 

  “And look there, you see the small buds on that tree right outside the shop,” Y/N gasped quietly, her arm shooting out to point to the tree that was once sagging under the weight of the snow. “Look how small, but in a few weeks time, those will be beautifully coloured, large leaves full of life.” She hummed, hand nestling back on her own teacup. 

  Oliver looked from the window, towards her, eyes flicking over her face as she stared out the window in sheer amazement. Suddenly, the stubborn and slightly obsessed Gryffindor Quidditch Captain that normally oozes self-confidence and never does anything at leisure, found himself slowing down and enjoying it. Enjoying the seconds ticking by when he wasn’t working on plays. Enjoying the hours he has spent just looking at nature (and Y/N) and listening to her. Her voice was a little shaky and quiet, but it was the most beautiful sound to him. Even better than the sound of the crowd cheering whenever the Gryffindor team won another game. 

  Even in the moments of silence as she just existed, sipping her tea as she basked in his company. For someone who was so used to hanging around rambunctious and loud Quidditch players, he never thought silence and stillness could be so welcoming. Sure, being friends with Percy, he found himself surrounded by silence as Percy read in his presence, but Oliver would always do his own thing. It was never silent because his head was always busy and loud. Now, with Y/N, his brain was quiet. It was kind of comforting. 

  “Reckon we should make a quick trip to Honeydukes before it gets busy?” Oliver asked gently, not to startle her as he pulled her from her thoughts. A smile stretched onto her face, soft eyes sparking at him in the late afternoon spring sun. There was a sweet spot to visit the popular candy store. He had never thought of it before, he always just went to Honeydukes. It wasn’t until their relationship hit the four month mark that he noticed. 

  They had been out strolling around Hogsmeade. It was relatively quiet along the cobblestone streets as they walked in comfortable silence, Y/N’s eyes seeming to admire the world around them in awe - as if this was her first time in Hogsmeade. Oliver found his eyes glued to the corners, watching her, his heart thumping in a way that both calmed him and scared him. The noise of the rambunctious groups pooling in and out of Honeydukes made her stutter in her steps, her body stiffening as her eyes shifted to the large crowd. 

  His own eyes shifting from her, he observed the ruckus without panic, but it was obvious she was. As they slowly sauntered closer to the mass of people, her body seemed to become more stiff, her pace slowing. “Hey, how about we just sit on this bench here? I kinda want to just sit without for a little bit.” Oliver suggested, gesturing to a bench that sat not far from them. 

  She looked at it, open-mouthed, before looking back at Oliver. “But it’s covered in snow,” She blinked up at him. Oliver shrugged, walking over to it. She followed easily, their joined hands keeping them attached. “Are you sure, Oliver? I don’t want to make you sit out in the cold.” She pointed out. She knew he was just doing it because she was nervous around crowds and the possibility of a forced conversation..  

  “It’s early March, it’s starting to warm up,” He brushed her off. There was a nip in the air, but it was just enough to tinge the end of one's nose red. Part of him found this an added bonus because despite the scarf she kept nuzzling her face in, Y/N’s cheeks and nose would have that slight discoloration he loved so much. Sometimes he had to search for it, but it was there and he found it adorable. With his free hand, he brushed partially melted snow off the bench. “You can sit on my lap if you’re comfortable, I don’t want your pants to get wet.” He settled himself onto the bench, their hands still connected as she stood there apprehensively. 

  “You know, I am okay with going into Honeydukes, as long as you’re with me I can handle the crowd-” She was cut off by his hand leaving hers, his arms quickly wrapping around her waist to pull her down onto his lap. She squeaked out in shock, eyes widened. “Oliver! Warning would have been nice, you scared me!” She gasped despite the fact she seemed to melt into him. 

  “Sorry, Love,” He smiled, resting his chin on her shoulder. “But I wasn’t going to let you drag me into Honeydukes and sacrifice your comfort just because you think I am cold,” He pressed his lips to her cheek as she unburied her face from her scarf. “We’ll wait until it starts to calm down.” 

  “Well,” She hummed, trying to uncover her watch from under her coat and mittens. Oliver helped, rolling her oversized, knitted mitten down slightly, revealing the watch she always wore. “It usually calms down at forty after the hour, it’s the quietest part aside from just before close-”

  “Which isn’t an option because you don’t want the workers to think you’re ignorant coming into a shop five minutes before closing,” He finished for her. She looked into his eyes, the smile that was covered by her scarf evident through the gleam in her eyes. “We’ll wait five minutes then go in. Then, we can go to the Three Broomsticks because at that time, usually the Twins will be pulling off some sort of stunt outside of Zokos.” 

____

  Y/N never thought of the Quidditch Pitch as a sanctuary for her to escape to. It was usually always loud in some way - or she thought it was. Boy, was she wrong. Before she met Oliver, she much preferred to avoid attention and noise. it was out of her comfort zone to be in fast paced social environments - such as Quidditch games. Oftentimes, she was usually found lounging in quiet areas of Hogwarts, but obviously, since dating Oliver, she frequented the Pitch more often. Either while he was practicing (team or alone) or while he was playing. More recently, she could be spotted under Oliver’s arm while he sat in the crowd watching the other team’s games. 

  Now, even when they didn’t make appearances at other games, their usual spot was always open. It was now known as Oliver and Y/N’s spots. Oliver had scouted them out once. Situated right at the top of the bleachers, Oliver had found a sweet spot where Y/N wouldn’t feel overwhelmed by over-eager people screaming. Sitting right next to the stairs, she could quickly escape if needed. When they were practicing, she sat in the front, her book carefully balanced on the edge of the railing. 

  Right now, she sat in her normal spot, the fall breeze whispering around her. Her large eyes were locked on Oliver as his brown eyes quickly moved around the pitch, watching everything with his incredible perceptive eyes. He always amazed her with his attention to detail - most likely from being such a good keeper. He noticed everything. He could sometimes spot the snitch before any of the Seekers. 

  “Hey, Y/N,” She blinked as she was startled by someone talking to her. Eyes searching the crowd in front of her, she spotted Seamus, his face painted in Gryffindor colours, a lion’s mane around his face. “Did Oliver tell you anything about his strategy in this game? Those nasty snakes are neck and neck with us! What is going through his head?” Seamus’ Irish accent got thicker and thicker as he got riled up. 

  She squeaked, face heating up as she felt a few people looking at her - also questioning the same thing. One thing about dating the captain, people had lots of questions and were upset when they were losing or had the possibility of falling behind in the game. “I-I’m not-” She swallowed thickly, pulling the scarf she wore up around her face, trying to hide within it. “Um, I don’t really, uh-” She licked her lips, a little bit of fuzz from the scarf falling catching on her lips and tongue. “No, he didn’t.” She answered, making everybody look away from her. 

  Sinking into her seat, her back against the wall, she let out a breath. Her eyes fluttered closed as she cursed herself. ‘I couldn’t even answer a simple question! Stupid. Godric!’ She beat herself up before she let her eyes open at the sound of a shrill whistle. Instantly, her eyes met Oliver’s brown eyes. They were consumed by concern and a little bit of anger, but she knew it was directed to the people who made her uncomfortable. 

  “Gryffindor wins with Harry Potter catching the snitch! Starting off the season strong!” Lee’s voice boomed through the sound system, causing the stands to erupt in cheers (aside from the Slytherins who sneered at everyone as per usual). She could feel Oliver’s eyes on her as she stood, pulling the scarf down to show him her beaming smile. Sending him a thumbs up, she turned and made her way down the stairs. 

  She knew he would be waiting impatiently on the pitch right next to the tunnel he knew she would emerge from. “You won!” She exclaimed. Even in celebration, her voice was soft and quiet, but her face glowed in a way that far outweighed any form of vocalization. Without a second thought, she launched herself into his arms, legs and arms wrapping around him as his wrapped around her waist. Flush against each other, their faces buried within each other’s necks, they simply stayed like that. Oliver rocked them slightly, hands gripping each other’s clothes. They held each other in the most innocently desperate way, celebrating by feeling each other’s energies. 

  “Are you okay? They shouldn’t have been questioning you like that,” Oliver whispered into her hair, his breath tickling her neck slightly. She squealed, barely pulling away at the feeling. She could feel a slight smile stretching onto Oliver’s face at the reaction, but he turned serious a second later. “Reckon I need to make it clear that they can’t do that again.” 

  “It’s fine, Oliver-” She pulled away from him, hands coming up to cup his face. They couldn’t hear the wolf-whistles from the Weasley Twins (well, Y/N didn’t but Oliver did and instantly knew they were going to be in for a rough next practice). She took a look at his serious face, knowing she wasn’t going to convince him not to teach them a lesson. “Fine, but intimidating stares and empty threats only.” She told him sincerely. 

  “Fine by me.” He agreed, leaning in to press his lips to hers. She blushed furiously, all too aware of people looking at them, but she leaned into the kiss anyway - too desperate for a kiss to care (care enough to stop kissing him, but she knew she would be thinking about people watching once his lips left hers). 

____

  “It is blistering cold out Oliver, my fingers are about to fall off, where are we going?” Y/N questioned, her voice muffled by her scarf. He looked down at her, seeing her eyes securely behind the blindfold, both her hands gripping his arm the best they could with her oversized mittens. 

  “You will see in a minute.” He simply told her, making her huff. 

  “I don’t like surprises, Oliver.” She pouted, wiggling her face free from her scarf in order to show him the pout on her red tinged lips. She had a barely noticeable shade of lipstick on, wearing it specifically since it is her one-year anniversary with Oliver today. They were dressed nicely. Both had a pair of jeans and a warm sweater under their layers of winter wear. 

  “I know, Love, but you will like this one, I promise,” He reassured her, pressing a kiss to her hat-covered temple sweetly. She hummed, resting her head against Oliver’s bicep as he led her towards their destination, following in blindly. Looking down at her more as they slowly walked, he couldn’t help but let warmth bloom in his chest. Something about her snuggling into him as he led her to someplace, allowing him to lead her blindly. The amount of trust this showed she had in him warmed him against the bitter cold they walked in. “Okay, Love, we’re here.” 

  He could barely contain his smile as he gently pried her hands off him, walking behind her to untie the blindfold. “You took me to Greenhouse?” She questioned, eyes scanning the Greenhouse that stood in front of them.

  “Not any Greenhouse,” He exclaimed, carefully shuffling past her as they stood on a patch of ice. He pulled the small bit of cloth that covered the number on the door. Revealing the number one. “Greenhouse One! The Greenhouse I confessed my feelings to you in a year ago to this date. Even down to the hour!” He beamed as he opened the door for her. A blast of heat greeted them as he guided her into the room, a hand on her lower back to make sure she didn’t slip on the ice. 

  Her mouth fell open, looking around in amazement. The plants and tables that usually cluttered the center of the Greenhouse were pushed to the side, leaving space for a blanket and pillows to be laid out on the floor. Floating candles provided a flickering and a glowing amber light - the only light that illuminated the area aside from the winter sun that broke through the dirty windows on the Greenhouse in mini spotlights, dust swirling and dancing in them. 

  Turning around, Oliver closed the door, sealing the heat in the Greenhouse - the heating spell working brilliantly. When he turned around, he found his breath leaving him at the sight before him. She slowly walked further into the Greenhouse, eyes dancing around in amazement as she peeled her winter clothes off, starting with her hat and scarf. The golden rays hit her, illuminating her as if she were a work of art - just like they did a year ago at this time. As she pulled her mittens off, she reached out, touching the plant with the softest, most caring touch. Humming, she let the leaf of the plant go before dropping everything including her coat to the ground. 

  “This is beautiful, Oliver. I love it,” She whispered, looking back at him, eyes meeting his eyes in a zing like jolt, bringing him from his daze. He wanted to say the cliche line of ‘breathtakingly beautiful’ as he looked at her, but he was too taken by her standing there. All he could really do was stride towards her. ““Um, Oliver,” She whispered in a shaky voice as he didn’t say anything back to her, but his eyes were set with intent. “A-are you going to say something-” 

  She was cut off by his lips falling upon hers, his hands resting on her waist. They stumbled slightly from the force of his lips, but his hands gripped onto her waist, steadying them as her hands reached up to cup his cheeks, her lips moving with his in a sweet kiss. All their kisses were sweet. Innocent but rough (that thanks to Oliver’s need to show her how much he loved her). They stood there, lips locked in among the variety of beautifully growing plants, the smell of fresh soil and the fragrant tropical plants in the back corner of the Greenhouse - absorbed each other’s energies like the leaves of a plant absorbing sunlight; warm and energising. 

  “I love you.” He spoke against her lips before connecting their lips together. He was shocked when her hands were pushing his face away from hers, unable to pull herself away from the kiss due to him holding her flush against him, her back arching slightly.

  “I love you too, Oliver. So much.” She confessed to him, her wide eyes staring into his eyes, sparks exploding in her stomach as their eyes whispered heartwarming love between each other. And just like that, they both knew that the tales they would be telling until their last breaths would be tales of the infatuated, but Percy probably already knew that when he told Oliver everything that day.

[leaawrites]

Shower Secret

Oliver Wood x fem!Hufflepuff!reader

Words: 0,7k

Warnings: making out, indication of sex, Harry getting pushed off his broom(?), indication of nudity, grammar mistakes (maybe? English isn't my first language)

Materlist

There wouldn't be any reason to keep the relationship between a Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff a secret. If the Hufflepuff wasn't the shame of an all Slytherin family. So, Oliver Wood had to keep his relationship extra secret with the outsider girl.

With her reputation and the things that happened to her, Y/n couldn't be less worth to her parents. But with You-know-who being out and about, even her dissapointed parents didn't want her to get into it too much. So they kept an eye on her and made sure someone always watched what she was doing. If her parents found out she was dating some gryffindor, y/n didn't want to challenge someone and guess what they would do to Oliver.

After the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff, Oliver let himself ignore everyone that tried to come near him. That also counted for her.

When Y/n tried to make him talk to her, he only pushed her off and walked past her into a direction she couldn't see from the people that were running in her vision.

Harry was just being thrown off his broom by a dementor and now everyone needed to know what was going on with him, immediatly.

Y/n made her way to the Hospital Wing, pushing past the people who gave her dirty looks in the process or even yelling at her to get out. Fred and George apeared at the door, wanting to tell the others off when their eyes found Y/n's e/c one's.

"He's in the washingrooms," George called out to her, knowing who she truly cared for more.

Y/n rolled her eyes when she had to push past the ever growing crowed again. She made her way to the washingrooms, ignoring the eyes she felt on her as she past through the halls of Hogwarts.

The air was cold and in the process of almost freezing to death (or at least feeling like she will), Y/n opened the door without knocking. No one else was in there without Oliver.

"Olli?" She called out for him. The water stopped spilling and Y/n could hear the defeated and disappointed sigh leaving hef boyfriend's lips.

"Go away," He told her. "I'm not in the mood to talk about what happened."

Y/n slowly stripped off her shirt and trousers, only left in her underware, when she heard the shower being turned on again. She opened the shower curtain that hit Oliver and peeked inside. Oliver was leaning with his head against the wall, his eyes not darting in her direction, but instead they were focused on the crowd.

"We still lost," He said. "It's so unfair. Harry should've just got that snitch and then we would've won and still have a chance for the Quidditch cup."

Y/n touched his spine with her nose, leaning into his body. "You know it's not that easy. You know that better than anyone. And you still have a chance on the Quidditch Cup." She argued.

"But-" He stopped, not knowing what he wanted to argue himself.

"It's gonna be alright," She assured him, making him sigh again, but this time in relief. He always had someone who supported him. He knew that now better than ever.

"What if someone walks in?"

Y/n thought for a minute, would her answer scare him off? "I don't care," she whispered, kissing just below his ear and leaving small pecks down his neck. "They will probably out before noticing who it is anyway." Both laughed at that.

Oliver turned around, his hands holding her hips, while hers laid on his chest, drawing small shapes on his skin. "You make me go crazy."

"Oh yeah?" She asks teasingly, her toungue pulled between her teeth.

"Extremly." He kisses her, deeply devouring the taste of her lips. "I actually just train this hard for Quidditch to impress you." He breaks the kiss.

"Liar." Y/n answers without hesitation.

"I've got caught," He inhales sharply as her hands traveled lower with each word he spoke.

"You make me go crazy as well," She answeres, pulling him into another hot kiss.

The steam of the shower made the tension between them grow more lustful.

"Do you wanna continue this here or somewhere more private?" Y/n asked, pulling away and almost slipping from the water under her feet. Oliver held her steady and laughed as she straightend up again. "And not so slippery," She added.

[sparkling-ariaria]

That time of the month... (BTS, HP, Stranger Things fics)

Stories to hopefully give you a bit of comfort when you're on your period.

Updated: 14.04.2024

HARRY POTTER

The Good, The Bad, & The Chocolate by jackie5656 - James Potter x gf!Reader

A Gentleman by robynlilyblack - Sirius Black x gf!Reader

Warm baths and raspberry teas by letterstotheflre - Sirius Black x gf!Reader

Cramps by robynlilyblack - James Potter x friend!Reader

Red and white sheets by padf00ts-l0ver - James Potter x gf!Reader

Our brave girl by - poly!Marauders x gf!Reader

His sweet girl by - Oliver Wood x gf!Reader

Rainy night by magicchai - Draco Malfoy x gf!Reader

Period and the full moon by theemporium - Remus x gf!Reader

The boys help when you're having period cramps by moonstruckme - poly!Marauders x gf!Reader

BTS

BTS Reacts: Their S/O has bad period pains by yoongisleftshoulder

BTS Headcanon - Buying you period products by namjooning-to-the-moon

Boyfriend Taehyung by eoieopda

STRANGER THINGS

TLC by queerpumpkinnn - Steve x Reader Reader has to cancel a date due to period sickness, but Steve’s happy to keep them company anyway.

You being in pain headcanon by forevermoreharrington - Steve x gf!Reader

That Time of the Month by forever-rogue - Steve x gf!Reader

Banished by joejoequinnquinn - Eddie x gf!Reader

Monthly Blues by cinemabean - Eddie x gf!Reader Eddie takes care of reader when she has period pains.

[sawyer-is-not-my-name]

Requested: Oliver Wood x Fem! Reader

request: Oliver wood x Fem reader whos the captain of the Ravenclaw quidditch team. Who’s secretly together but have a rival going on for show.

You zipped towards the hoops throwing the quaffle right past the keepers head and straight through the hoop. Making a quip at him as you flew back towards your teammates. The quaffle was back in your hands within a few minutes, you and your chasers making your way back towards the Gryffindor keeper.

You kept your eyes on him racing towards to hoops, before passing the quaffle off to a teammate to which they scored. A successful fake out. A groan came out of the keepers mouth as he formed some comment about how you could have never made the shot on your own.

By the end of the match you had a huge smile on your face, whilst Oliver was frowning and his whole face had gone red. You had managed to get on his nerves distracting him with your comments most of the time. His teammates getting too distracted by the ongoing feud and chiming in to bother their captain to notice the Ravenclaw seeker catching the snitch.

You flew down to the field, dismounting quickly. “And to think we went easy on you.” a smirk graced your lips as you spoke. Oliver remained stone faced, as you approached. “Big talk for someone who almost fell off her broom.” You narrowed your eyes at him, “Maybe if you spent more time paying attention to the game and not admiring me, Gryffindor would have won.”

You watched as his face went red, a smirk once again playing at your lips, “thats not what I-” you cut him off, “Isn’t it.” the words weren’t a question rather a statement.

By now the rest of both of your teams had cleared off the pitch. Oliver looked around before placing a kiss to your lips. “So you’re not upset at me beating you anymore?” He let a laugh, “Did I say that?” He jokingly narrowed his eyes at you, before you both let out a laugh. “How long do you think it’ll be until you they all figure it out?” you asked smiling at your boyfriend, “Probably not too much longer, Fred and George probably already know saw them collecting galleons the other day.”

You smiled at the boy, “They already said I’m going soft.” You smirked at him, “are you?” He went red again, only solidifying the answer you knew. Oliver offered you a hand, before pulling you off the pitch ready to continue with the day.

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

REQUESTS - IDEAS

if you have seen some of my lastest posts. you would notice that they are George weasley.

if you want to request something please feel free! because i need ideas.

but they don't just have to be for George!

other people i'm willing to write for are

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Oliver Wood

young or old marauders (Remus, Sirius and James)

Mattheo Riddle

Charlie Weasley

If you want to request anybody other than that I'll most definitely do my best to do it

either way, I'll try my best to do it as soon as possible.

I do x fem!reader but if you request male! or Gn! reader I will definitely do it.

[saltburnedme]

My requests are open! Message/comment to be added to the tag list!

Paring: Oliver Quick x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3520

Summary: You’d only been visiting family at Saltburn for a few weeks, but this time you couldn’t shift the feeling of something or someone watching you.

Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), choking, stalking? Kind of?, two way mirrors, vague horror ish themes, dubious consent, generally fucked up smut overall

Writers note: Hi friends! This is my first Oliver fic, I’m planning on writing more so let me know if you have any requests. I’ve only seen the film once so I apologise if my writing of him isn’t quite right yet.. just read his parts with his accent and I think it works! Please share, comment, like and all of those good things 💕💕

Part 2

21 days, almost a full month, that’s how long it had taken you to get to grips with the enormity of Saltburn. Most of that time had been spent mistakenly walking into a linen closet which supplied one of the many bedrooms believing it was the entrance to your room. You’d even drawn yourself a map by this point and somehow, you still managed to get lost, the house was almost as much of a maze as the actual maze in the garden was. You had checked off your room, all of the shared spaces and most of the other bedrooms, inhabited or otherwise, all marked down perfectly on your little map. There was only one wing of the house which you were not allowed into, Elsbeth called it the ‘bachelor pad’ something you know Felix would have at the very least groaned at. He’d been sharing this space with his guest, another student named Oliver. He was quiet, a bit of a mystery overall but from that you assessed that he was a man who liked his privacy, making you chalk up their reluctance to have you in that space no more than a matter of comfort. A comfort you wish that you could say you felt also.

You visited Saltburn many times as a child, the family themselves were distant relatives of yours which is why you always summered there when your parents were away on business. You’d never felt uncomfortable there before, but this time something was different even though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Maybe it was the heat getting to you, maybe it was the ever changing list of house guests that visited or the way that it seemed the eyes on the paintings of long dead aristocracy seemed to follow you around the room. Something had changed, if only you could put your finger on it.. or a toe.. maybe even an out stretched palm if you felt confident enough, anything to make this restlessness end. Every night that you laid in bed, you felt something, someone, watching you. You had checked, you’d opened every door, searched every shelf and wandered into every linen closet in the vicinity of your room and every time, nothing. Your well drawn map granting you no ease of mind, even with all of the labels you’d added to it over the last few weeks. The constant tossing and turning ceased only by one saving grace, you’d remembered to pack your vibrator.

Every night like clockwork your little buzzing friend would find the tingling mound between your legs, slipping in and out seamlessly like always, making you cum within a few minutes. That was until tonight, maybe you should have expected it. 21 days in a row of usage, the batteries were sure to go flat at some point, you just didn’t think it would be so soon. Placing it into the draw of the bedside table you go back to the constant pacing feeling in your mind as you attempted to sleep. The watching feeling was back, the hairs on your arms standing up, the feeling of the familiar prickling at the back of your neck as if something dangerous was approaching from the shadows. But sleep finally took you, once again.

The sound of knuckles tapping against the wood of the door early every morning tore you from your sleep, a much needed sleep. The curtains being torn open and the light hitting your face remind you of where you are almost immediately, at least this time with the maids in your room you knew who was watching you. ‘Breakfast is ready’ she says as she leaves the room as promptly as she arrived, off to wake another of the Saltburn family without a doubt. Crawling out of bed in your white night dress, you throw on a matching robe over the top, fumbling your slippers on, briefly checking your reflection in the full length mirror mounted to the wall across from your bed before wandering down the long halls to the breakfast table. Taking your usual seat you notice no one else has awoken yet, your tired eyes settling on the food in front of you, you almost fall asleep sitting up eating. The exhaustion of the last few days finally catching up with you. ‘You looked frustrated last night’ a low voice utters quietly a few seats across from you, the low muttering making you jump out of your skin with shock.

‘Excuse me?’ You question, a puzzled look on your face which could have been mistaken for anger, your words coming out harsher than you expected. You see the man across from you almost retreat into himself, he’d barely uttered a word to you in the last 21 days and now this? Your mind immediately flashing back to your frustration at your vibrator unceremoniously dying on you, surely that isn’t what he refers to tho.. right? ‘Oh Oliver, I’m sorry, I’m so tired that came out poorly. what do you mean?’ You question, making Oliver un tense slightly.

‘I saw you looking for something last night’ he begins. ‘Anything I can help with?’ He questions.

‘Oh, That. I was just trying to get a better lay of the land. Every time i visit I swear this place is rearranged, it’s like a new house every time.’ You reply.

‘Sure, that must have been it’ he replies, no follow up, nothing. Although it was more of a conversation than you’d managed with him this whole time, you expected maybe something else would have come from this. He could have offered to help you, anything. Although you hadn’t spoken that much you’d find it hard to argue that you hadn’t developed a little crush on him, his dark hair in contrast with his piercing blue eyes, surely that would make any girl swoon.

Just as you finally thought of something to say, the thought of offering him an invitation to explore the mansion with you to further expand your map, the rest of the family arrived, keen to discuss plans for the day. Your hopes of getting to know Oliver better shattered once again.

You continued your day like normal, a dip in the pool, a little bit of reading, another trip to a random room to expand the map and eventually dinner and straight to bed.

Once again you were kept up, tonight you indulged in wine a little bit more than usual, the knowledge of the lack of batteries to fuel your only release weighing heavy on your mind.

Crawling into bed you listen to the creaking of the wooden floorboards in the hallway, the sound of the old house almost swaying in the breeze as if that were possible. You try to ignore the familiar ache between your thighs as you long for sleep subtly grinding against the palm of your hand as you crave the release you know you can’t have. The feeling growing stronger and your movements becoming more unsubtle as you move the covers off of you, the fabric of your night dress pooling up around your hips as you grind, longing for that familiar feeling. ‘Ugh, fuck sake’ you groan, it’s of no use. You roll over frustratedly, your face buried in pillows as you let out a silent scream. That’s when you hear it, the floorboards creaking, the sound too loud to be from the hallway and it wasn’t just creaking this time, footsteps. But it couldn’t be, you’d locked the door to your room, the only other way in was through the window which you had ensured was locked.

‘Hello?’ You ask tentatively, sitting bolt upright in bed at this point. You weren’t sure if you prayed for an answer or not, at least if there were an answer you’d know for certain that you weren’t alone. But no answer came.

2:41am, you’d checked the clock at least 20 times by now every time you had almost drifted to sleep another creak on the floorboards would tare you from your dreams. It sounded almost as if they were getting closer, they’d began earlier by your mirror and by now they were approaching the head of the bed. Sometimes you even thought you could feel something touching you, lightly re arranging the way your hair fell on the pillow, or something lightly tugging at the blanket that covered your body. But this time you felt it for sure.

The weight on the bed shifted, while you lay in the middle, the bed dipped on the side, the unmistakeable feeling of someone sitting at the side of the bed. Another second and you felt it, a hand on your ankle wrapped tight. Terrified you sit, unable to move. You never imagined this is how you’d be in this position, you’d scream and fight when you’d imagined this scenario previously but you were wrong, so wrong. You lay there silently, only when you felt the grip on your ankle tighten did you even let on that you were awake as you were harshly dragged down the bed, now splayed out in the middle. Before you could scream a hand smacks over your mouth with a slap, silencing any sound that could have come out of you.

‘What were you thinking about?’ A voice in the dark asks, an accent of some sort laced in his words surely belonging to the owner of the strong hands currently pinning you against the bed. ‘Who were you thinking about?’ The voice continues, more demanding this time as the accent becomes clearer, Oliver? Surely not. The sweet, quiet man who sits across from you silenced by his own nervousness every breakfast, it can’t be him. You try to answer, your words muffled by the hand over your mouth, although you’re sure it would be less of an answer and more of a demanding to get out of your room.

‘Was it me? Tell me it was me.’ He demands, his hand dropping from your mouth to your throat, wrapped around tightly grasping at the column of your neck.

‘I-I Uhm’ your reply coming out as nonsense. He was right, you had been thinking of him. You’d seen his physique while sunbathing, sneaking a glance when you believed no one would notice. But now with his hand wrapped around your neck and his body pressing into yours your mind was blank.

‘Answer me’ he demands, hand tightening as his face grows ever closer to yours. At this distance you swear you can almost see the moonlight shining through the window reflecting off of his blue eyes, glimmering at you.

‘You.. it was you’ you stutter out quietly, your words shocking even you as they come out breathy and quiet.

‘What a good girl you’ve been for me’ he says, his grip loosening on your throat as he glides his index finger down your cheek.

‘Bu-but how did you.. where.. what’ you question, a full sentence becoming too much for your brain to handle, but the man on top of you seems to have gotten the gist of your line of questioning.

‘I’ve been watching you’ he replies. ‘You and your little map. Wandering around like you own the place’ his words laced with venom. ‘I’ll admit you did make it harder for me. You thought you were so smart checking everywhere, you never bothered to check within your own room’. He continues as your eyes fight with the dark, darting around every corner of the room. That’s when you spot it, the light reflecting off of the mirror slightly wrong, it was almost as if the glass was rippling, the reflection always seeming a little off, it was a two way mirror. From the spot where it was mounted on the wall, you realised that it was pushed slightly further than usual, the story all making sense in your mind suddenly. You hadn’t been imaging things, you had heard footsteps inside the room, someone was watching you, Oliver.

‘Our rooms share a serving corridor as these old houses do sometimes’ he says as if it was an obvious fact, something everyone would know. He could see a million questions whirling behind your eyes, snapping you out of your thoughts as his soft fingers against your cheek suddenly turn into a slap, grasping your face turning your lips into a pout. ‘Now, I know what you do to sleep and I took the liberty of removing the batteries from your useless little toy there’ he sneers at you, you can almost feel his smirk against your lips as he comes in closer. This was nothing like the man you had vaguely come to know over the last few weeks, he was mean, cruel even and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you admitted that you liked it, you loved this version of Oliver. ‘I thought, just maybe if you’d get impatient enough you’d come to me yourself. But the little miss never came’ he continues, finding himself amusing at his own pun. ‘So I came to you’ putting extra emphasis on his words to make a point as to almost poke at you. ‘Now, I can either leave and go back to my room or I can help you with your predicament. Would you like that?’ He questions, still holding your face in his hands ensuring you look straight into his eyes as your head nods, partially guided by Oliver’s hand moving your face for you. ‘Good girl’ he places a light peck onto your lips. ‘The former was never really an option anyway, did you really think I could leave all this now that I have you here?’ His question sounding more like a statement, he didn’t care about your answer, he decided you belonged to him the moment he stepped into the room. His hand slips from your face, grasping your throat once more before climbing further onto the bed, throwing the covers off of you and pushing your night dress up.

He sighs, the view of you almost making him cum on the spot. Oliver never imagined he’d actually do it, sure he’d thought of the thousand ways he could take you, he wanted to bend you over and fuck your brains out over the breakfast table every morning for the last month and now, in this single sigh he released a months worth of frustration. His desperate hands kneading at the supple flesh of your thighs, roaming up to where he was at his most desperate for you. The moment the pad of his thumb pressed against your clit a jolt of electricity raced through your body, moving you with a shocked flinch against the bed. His eyes bore into yours as if almost warning you to stay still, a warning you would absolutely heed. His eyes transfixed on yours as his thumb swirled around your sensitive nub, gathering slick from your entrance just to return to your clit, your climax building from the moment he touched you. You were almost there, your peak was in sight you could feel it building when he tore his hand from you. A smirk pressed against his lips as he bent down to kiss you, he was proud, he ruined your orgasm and he was proud of it. Just as you settled into the lack of his touch, his lips hovering against yours he plunged his fingers into you, without warning a loud gasp leaving your lips. You knew you’d fucked up the moment the sound left your mouth, his fingers being pulled from you once more.

‘Good girls stay quiet, do you understand me? We wouldn’t want the rest of them finding out how much of a whore you are now would we?’ He sneers, your heart rate increasing as you nod your head again. ‘Such a good girl for me. I’ll make sure to reward you, just stay quiet for me’ he continues, his words softer this time as his fingers return to your warm, wet entrance.

It was harder to stay quiet than you expected. His pace was relentless and now as he kissed down your body, your night dress torn from you and the remaining scrap of fabric now discarded to the floor, the want to moan for him was overwhelming. This was only made worse when his lips wrapped around your sensitive mound. His tongue and fingers moving at the same time, sucking on your most sensitive parts like a man starved. He was desperate for you and now, you were for him. You couldn’t resist it and he could tell, your climax was imminent as you rocked your hips against his mouth. From watching you he knew that you covered your mouth with your hand or bit down onto your fist when you came in an attempt to muffle the sounds. To compensate for this, at the moment your shaking orgasm rippled through your body he shoved his fingers into your mouth, the taste of your own juices heavy on your tongue as he suckled and licked you through your peak, his eyes still fixed on yours.

You thought that was it, he said he wanted to help you and he had, you’d half expected him to leave when he tore his own shirt over his head, pushing his boxers down his thighs as he pushes your legs further open with the weight of his own body. With one hand next to your head and his other white knuckle grasping his cock he glided his length through the slick of your pussy. His lustful gaze had left yours now, favouring watching his tip spread you wide for him. Just as your eyes left his face to watch the sight between your legs you were interrupted. ‘Look at me’ he demands ‘I want to see the look on your face when I split you open’ his words being of continuous shock to you, where had your quiet kind man gone?

Although you’d hate to say he was correct, he was. Even with your drenched hole and your legs spread wide for him the burn as he entered you was real. He was unbelievably thick and long, his length impaling you again and again as he begins thrusting into you relentlessly. He was as desperate for release as you were, maybe you should have known, your sweet man in his full right mind would surely never break into your room and do this to you if he wasn’t desperate you reassured yourself. This can’t be the real him after all, it had to be an act.

These thoughts stayed with you for merely seconds as your eyes rejoined his as they flutter open, your mouth hanging open in a silent moan just like his. As if you could both feel the sound about to release your lips came crashing together, muffling the sound of your joint moans as his tongue slips into your month. It was a dirty, sinful act and you loved every second of it. You’d never felt this desperate for anyone in your life. You wanted him to cum inside you, breed you and make you his.

‘Once I cum inside you, you’re mine. Do you understand? I fucking own you’ he says, making you question if he has a future in a career in mind reading. He doesn’t wait for an answer taking the feeling of your walls tightening around his length as the only reply he would ever need again.

His pace quickens his body pressed against yours as his hand clasps over your mouth silencing you, your head held still as he glares into your eyes. You can feel it, his climax nearing, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more erratic as he breaks his own rule, groaning loudly into your kiss as he cums within you, his liquid filling you to the brim. The sound reverberates against the walls, someone must have heard that you think as he continues to fill you up. Just as you think he’d stopped, almost possessively he begins to move again. The feeling overwhelming both of your senses as he fucks his cum further into you before pulling out and repeating the same process with his fingers, watching a little bit trickle out before pushing it back inside you once more.

‘You’ll keep this inside you, you understand? You don’t get to clean yourself up’ he demands. ‘You’ll be a good girl for me tomorrow, at 10pm sharp you’ll get into the bath across the hall and wait for me. Got it?’ His demands continue as he places one last harsh kiss onto your lips, your eyes flickering closed for only a second, re opening when your kiss has parted. Just like that he was gone. His clothes, every part of him had left you almost without a trace. Your night dress torn on the floor you ponder how you’ll explain that to the maids in the morning as they’ll have to fix it. You cover yourself with the blanket again, your head pressed against the pillow as you finally go to sleep, the best you’ve slept in 21 days.

Part 2

Message to be added to the tag list! - current tag list: @idontevenknow1359

[livlaughloveluke]

underwater moments w/ Poseidon!reader x Luke

𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗡 - 𝗟.𝗖

daughter of poseidon! reader x luke castellan 🪸

[headcannons]

summary: you’re dating the famous hermes boy 💘

warnings: no betrayal luke 🥳, percy is a lil bro, fem reader, not all of these are underwater moments

a/n- i’m back for now guys!!

sneaking out for starlit swims !!

you and luke spend your nights secretly swimming under the dark waters of camp half-blood, while the moon grazes the surface and turns the black depths glittery. you and him try to remain quiet, but how could you resist laughter when he almost accidentally drowned, twice?!

the famous underwater kisses <3

with little privacy at the kid-filled camp, you and luke rarely found moments alone. all you had time for were sneaky, quick kisses in between planned activities. as a child of poseidon, you found a way to solve this intimate problem—underwater kisses. creating an air bubble under the lake allowed for a moment with no curious glances—at least from most. (the fishies and a certain pesky brother often interrupt)

going pearl diving!

luke likes to sunbathe in the gleaming sun, resting on the docks while you splash around in the blue lake. you dive down deep, searching for the prettiest pearls underwater and placing him on the wood surface next to him. this could go on for hours, you entertained by the adventure and luke just happy to be in your presence. the next day, luke graciously gifted you a gorgeous necklace made with the pearls you excavated.

surfing and paddle boarding 🏄‍♀️

while the calm waters don’t offer many waves, every once in a while you like to manipulate the liquid so you can surf. not to mention, you love to instruct luke, too. he’s not the best, but he’s willing to give anything a try. (if we’re being honest, he hates it. he hates constantly falling off the board and sharply coming into contact with the water, but he’d do anything if it meant you were happy.)

in contrast, he loves to paddle board with you. it’s more gentle, and he can actually talk to you while in the water.

the olive theory! (but with cherries)

definitelyyyy the type of guy to pretend he doesn’t like cherries just because he knows you love them more. every morning at breakfast, he slides you his small fruit cup with only the cherries remaining, and you eat it up every time. unbeknownst to you, he’s only doing this to see you smile. he loves the way your lips curl up into a smile when you eat them, the juices staining your lips with a shade of red. he would give up anything to see you smile like that. 

carrying a waterproof digital camera around 📸

he loves loves LOVES to take photos of you! whether your swimming in the lake or picking strawberries in the fields, he’s by your side with the camera directed towards you. he’s the number one candid picture taker! and when you ask why, he usually presents you with some dumb excuse or pickup line to conceal the fact that he’s totally whipped for you. 

“ew, stoppp! i look so bad right now! why do you like taking so many photos anyway?”

“dunno. you’re the subject of all my dreams, sweetheart.”

late night beach bonfires

singing, laughing, and cuddling by the warmth of a campfire with all your friends is a weekly occurrence for you and luke. it feels like you’re both just normal teens, living life with no fear of monsters attacking or angry greek gods. plus, he makes BOMB s’mores. 

CHAOTIC game nights with percy 

attempting to play charades with your little brother, but overall he just gets mad and rage quits because you couldn’t guess the word. oh, and we can’t forget the craziest uno nights. you and percy arguing over the rules while luke just stands awkwardly in the corner.

“you can’t place a draw two on a draw four! it doesn��t work that way!”

“yes you can!! suck it up and draw your six cards!”

“uh, guys…? 🧍‍♂️”

the annual cabin decoration contest ! (yes, i made this up)

when that time rolls around, you and percy are DETERMINED to have the best cabin. you hang up seashells, scatter around the prettiest dried coral on shelves, and buy fairy lights for a cozy atmosphere. luke watches from afar as you and percy playfully argue whether a lana del rey poster would “fit the theme.” to be fair, it was a tunnel under OCEAN blvd poster.

[luke masterlist] ★ [request here] ★ [poseidon moodboard]

[firstfirerebel]

𝕳𝖎𝖘

Sumary: Tom Riddle is obsessed with reader and won't tolerate her being somewhere else than his side (Reader is against the hate on Muggles or Muggle-Born wizards)

Pairing: yandere Adult!Tom Riddle/Voldemort x fem! reader

Warnings: Dark content, obsession, mention of the three Unforgivable Curses, implied kidnapping, death, yandere, toxic behavior

Time: First Wizarding War (meaning Voldemort/Tom is still a normal man)

English is not my native language!

I DO NOT SUPPORT OR ROMANTICIZE YANDERE BEHAVIOR!!!

"Why won't you just understand that all I want to do is create a new world, a better one. One were you, and I will rule together!"

"But I don't want that! In fact, I don't even want to be near you! I'll never join you nor support you. Just give up already and let me free!"

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

It was another day in the Malfoy Manor where you were captured by none other than the dark lord himself. And another day, where you just hoped to escape or die. Sounds harsh? Listen to your story first...

You have known Tom since your Hogwarts time. You weren't in the same house but in the same year, and even though you weren't close, you did happen to have some lessons together. Never you would've considered him a friend. He was just a classmate who sometimes helped you with potions, and in your free time, you sometimes met him in the libary by coincidence, but that was it.

Yeah, you did find him attractive, but you would have never thought to date him or something like that. After all, he always wanted to be alone and didn't like company. You also preferred being alone, to be honest. Still, he somehow scared you from the beginning. His eyes hold no emotions, but in his actions and his aura, all you felt or saw was pure hate. Tom didn't talk about his past, but he didn't have to for you to figure out that it must have been no good one.

Once you were in sixth grade, attacks on muggle-born students happened, and in the end, Myrtle, who was a friend of yours, was killed.

Yeah, she was very difficult , but she didn't mean any harm towards anyone. Besides that, she was bullied by so many students that you just felt pity for her. You were also bullied in your first years at hogwarts until the students stopped out of nowhere. Since then, you have had problems with being social. Most people who were close with you ended up using you for their own benefits or saw you as their therapist or something like that.

Okay, Myrtle was known for being over sensitive, but still, if people knew she would cry because of mean comments, then why make them? She was in her third year when she died, and she only flew to the girls' toilet because Olive Hornby made fun of her again, which made you more sad about her death. It's not like she chose to have glasses. What was wrong with some people?

In the end, Riddle accused Hagird of being responsible for her death. Only you and Proffesor Dumbledore were convinced that it couldn't have been Hagrid. He was way too nice and kind-hearted for such a terrible crime as murder. Though you didn't think it was Tom either.

But it didn't matter. Hagrid was suspended, and that was the end of it.

Since that time, you didn't trust Tom Riddle anymore. He was the one who made everyone believe that Hagird was guilty. And somehow, since the incident, Tom's aura has become even more intimidating and dark. At least that's how it felt to you...

Once you graduated, you didn't hear of him again, which didn't bother you at all. You lived a peaceful life for a long time. You loved your job. You had true friends. You could do your hobbies. And sometimes you even went on a few dates.

But, if it would have stayed that way, you wouldn't be at Voldemorts' side against your will, would you?

The day that ruined your life was a rainy day. It wasn't too cold nor too warm, so you decided to take a walk in the nearby woods. You loved to spend your time there. All the creatures and plants fascinated you every time without fail. Sometimes, you even saw unicorns, which felt like a miracle everytime Besides, it was one of the last peaceful places left.

War would soon come. It was only a matter of time. Everybody knew that. Maybe you only had two months left, or you still got two years. No one knew except the ones on Voldemorts side.

At that time, you only knew that 'The Dark Lord' was a user of the dark arts. And he hated Muggles and Muggle-Borns. Which was enough for you to despite him. Dark magic was never something you approved, and you didn't care about the blood status of anyone. What mattered to you was always the person.

Usually, the woods were filled with life and joy, but that day was different. The forest looked intimidating from the outside, and you even thought about going back home.

Sadly, you didn't listen to your inner voice. But, it wouldn't have changed your fate...

Once you entered it, you didn't hear the happy cheers of the birds like always. And you didn't see any nifflers running by or other creatures in general. Something was definitely wrong.

But you continued to walk, which would soon turn out to be a fatal mistake. As soon as you reached the river, that was in the forest, you realized why everything was so different than usual.

Death Eaters had chased and killed a Muggle-Born witch with her family. They were on a camping trip, as you could tell from the scenery. But there was still a girl, most likely two or three years old, still alive.

Without a second thought, you hid behind a big tree and some bushes around it.

It seemed like the Death Eaters didn't know what to do with her. Maybe she wasn't part of the plan? At first, you thought that this was not an important mission for them, but then you saw Bellatrix. She was very well known as Voldemorts' right hand. She personally learned dark magic from him and was definitely the most loyal Death Eater there ever was. So this must be a really important matter.

You couldn't stand her guts and wanted nothing more than to just slap her even if you didn't know her in person. Dark magic wasn't something you supported. But still, you couldn't deny that she was dangerous and powerful. Her madness didn't lower that fact.

Since dying wasn't on your to-do lost today, you ran away as fast as you could. Since they were arguing so loud, they didn't hear you. Of course, you wanted to help the little girl, but it was simply impossible to get her without getting caught. And against a whole troup of Death Eaters with one being BELLATRIX, you didn't stand a chance.

But luck wasn't on your side...

As you ran away from the horrible scene, you ran into a Death Eater. They wore their typical black clothes and their mask was on, so you didn't see who it was.

Before you could grab your wand, you heard an angry mumbled 'stupor'. You fell onto the ground and blacked out.

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

When you awoke, you didn't dare to open your eyes. After all, you got caught by a death eater, so you being alive was a miracle. You didn't hear any voices around you. It also wasn't cold and wet around you, so being locked up in a cellar wasn't the case as well...

Beneath you was a comfortable mattress. It was soft and made you want to fall asleep on it. But what the hell was this all about?!

If you're caught by the bad guys, you normally don't wake up in a soft bed. Did they bring you back home? No, that would be too risky. Maybe they wanted some information, but you weren't really someone well known in the wizarding world.

Patiently, you waited a few more minutes, but still not even the slightest noise. So you opened your eyes.

You were in a dark room. The main colors were black and dark green. Black wardrobes and black walls. The bed was made of black wood, but the sheets were dark green, the big carpet on the floor as well. No one was with you in this room. Desperately, you wanted to know where you were. From the colors, you would have guessed that it was a Slytherin Dormitory in Hogwarts. But kidnappers don't bring you to your old school!

Scared you inspected the room once again. Nothing was familiar...

You took a deep breath and stood up. If you would die, fine, but as long as you had the slightest chance of escape you would take it.

The carpet felt also really expensive beneath your feet. By the way, your kidnappers were so nice to pull off your shoes before laying you into bed...

Everything in this room seemed to be just made for this specific room. Which frightened you even more.

Suddenly, the door was opened, and you saw a pretty woman (walking down the street 🤣) in the doorframe. She was slim and tall, had long blonde hair that was tied up in a bun. Her tight dress was rose gold with a black cloak over it. All in all, she looked like a wealthy woman. Her face was pretty as well, but she looked like she got a dung under her nose. Weird.

"Get up and follow me, My Lady," her cold and clear voice told you.

"Uhm, I'm not your Lad -" but she was already on her way to your goal. You had no clue where it was, but following her was better than sitting around, right?

"I know this must be really confusing, but our Lord will explain it to all of us soon. I was just told to get you and call you that. Now, please, don't make this harder for us than it already is,"

You managed to catch up to her. Now you also saw that her eyes were ice blue. Matching her cold voice.

"Who are you?" you asked softly. Kowing her name could be a good hint to where you were.

"Narcissa Black, soon to be Narcissa Malfoy," the woman didn't look at you for one second, her eyes were focused on the walls. So you were still in the claws of the death eaters. Family Black was well known for their puryity, not a family you would have gotten along with.

The corridor was huge by the way. Dark colors still dominating. Only the chandelier was white. Did this belong to one person or was it the headquarters of Voldemort and his minions or what? Instead of getting awnsers you only got more questions as you walked after Narcissa.

Downstairs. A few steps upstairs again. Left. Left again. Right. Straight forward. The second right.

Was this a house or a Labyrinth?! How were you supposed to find your way in here? You even got lost in Digeon Ally!

But after what felt like an internity, you both reached a large black table, people gathered around it. A tall man stood up from his chair as he heard you two enter. As he turned around, you saw your old classmate Tom Riddle, but if he was here, he wouldn't help you. If he became a death eater, he was behind after everything you swore to fight. He wasn't an ally or a friend anymore. He was a danger and a threat to you and many innocent people who weren't here.

You tried to hide behind Narcissa. After all, she was the only person who seemed at least a little trustworthy, and she was another woman. Maybe she knew how unsafe you felt because mostly men were in this room. The only other woman was a mad Bellatrix, never ever you would trust her.

"Ah, there they are. Come in, " Tom spoke. His voice had changed, and it was more intimidating than it was before.

You didn't move an inch, but Narcissa started to move forward. Being all alone without someone to hide behind was more scarry, so you followed her, but you were still behind her.

"Oh no, don't be afraid. No one here will even dare to glare at you, my dear. They knew the punishment would be worse than death," You couldn't recognize Tom anymore. The hate in his presence, his voice, his appearance, everything scared you. Back in school, you didn't fear him, at least not for his house or his roots. Just because he was a Slytherin, it didn't mean that he was evil, but now? His opinions were completely different than yours, and this was not a stupid novel of the stereotype enemies to lovers cause he was just plain and simple wrong with his thoughts on muggleborn or muggles in general.

[Funfact: I don't get the hype on this topic, see, for being autistic I got bullied for many years and than reading a story about two people hating each other's guts and than falling for each other just feels wrong for me, you can read whatever you want ofc, this was just my unpopular opinion]

Still, you hid behind Narcissa, but as she tried to go towards a man with long blonde hair and her crazy sister, you felt completely defenseless. The only person you used to know seemed to be the head of everything here, and Narcissa wasn't at your side anymore. Sadly, Tom saw your fear. He went towards you and pulled you in an unwanted hug. Softly, he petted your hair and whispered sweet nothings. As soon as this horror hug ended, he smiled at you and turned towards the others.

"If anything should happen to her, everyone will be held responsible! You know the punishment, now go! We are done here!" As the last word fell, everyone disapparated, and only you and him were left.

And then you realized it. If he could order the death eaters around, he must be the dark lord himself. Tom Riddle, your old classmate, was Voldemort.

You backed away from him but regretted it soon. Tom didn't take rejection good...

"Why are you scared? I won't harm you. In fact, I am the one who has kept you safe since I saw you!"

"Are you mad?!" You yelled back into his already mad face. Wrong choice again. In full rage he stormed through the room and kicked everything in his way. Chairs and even the whole table practically flew through the room.

"Who protected you from those bullies back in Hogwarts?! Who kept you safe from all filthy boys who just wanted to break your heart?! Who killed the mudblood Myrtle so you were safe from her?!"

So Dumbledore was right... Tom opened the chamber of secrets all those years ago. And killed your friend.

"Myrtle was my friend! I never asked for your personal protection, Tom!"

Somehow that calmed him down! Yep, that man was a complete psychopath...

"But you didn't have to, my dear", he ran towards you and cupped your cheek while looking into your eyes.

"Keeping you safe will always be my priority. I loved you the moment I laid eyes on you and I knew that I would always protect you. Look around, here in our mansion you will always be safe. No one will ever harm you again. We'll be safe here! After I've won this war you and I can live here in peace. Just imagine it, I'll make us so many horcruxes that we won't ever die. Here we will raise our kids and they'll never go through the pain of being an orphan like I was", pain and hate was in his voice at the simple thought of 'death' and 'orphan'. But having a family with this insane man? Hell nah, you'd flee the moment you got the chance!

"I know now this is scary for you, and you might think of escaping, but this whole mansion is surrounded by death eaters, the moment you even think of fleeing you'll be brought to your room and trust me, I know how to punish or torture someone so that no mistace will ever happen again",

And that's how you ended up here. Behind you was the man that claimed to love you fast asleep. Yet he was the one who made you go through all of this. Most traumas you had were because of his action. If this was love, than you could already drown in it.

You had no idea if you could ever escape or if even the try of escaping was a good idea. This man wasn't well known for his kindness or his patience.

Maybe playing along would make it easier, but would your mental health take that well? Or would that make him do worse things 'out of love'?

Still, you rethought your first actions towards Tom, trying to figure out what made his obsession start. Was it your look? Your hairstyle? Your body language?

Or was it just being unlucky?

[i314flix]

LOVE CARD !

— oliver wood x fem!reader | the one where getting under the skin of the gryffindor quidditch captain, oliver wood, is your favorite hobby.

( 717 words ) pg-15; fluff, established relationship au; ft. ravenclaw!reader, quidditch captain!reader; unedited

“Unbelievable,” Oliver Wood mutters as he spots you and the whole Ravenclaw Quidditch team already flying around the pitch. The sun is only about to rise, the fog surrounding the place just starting to clear, and he’s becoming more annoyed at the fact that not only are your team stealing their time, but even managed to be here earlier than they are.

What makes it worse is that he knows that he’s the first one who reserved it for training since the match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw is fast approaching. And to further add to that, he particularly remembers reminding you that you better not take over any of the days he intends to let his team practice when he (stupidly) showed you his timetable for classes and Quidditch sessions.

“____!” He shouts your name, and upon hearing it from below, you look at him, a smirk automatically making its way on your lips.

“Let’s take a short break, everyone!” you instruct your team, flying down then and dropping down right in front of Oliver. “Good morning, Captain Wood. Fancy seeing you here.”

The formality triggers Oliver’s annoyance even more, but for the rest of the Gryffindor team who remain standing behind him, it brings them to hide their snickers and amused expressions.

After all, they—and pretty much the whole student body—are quite aware that you and Oliver have been dating for almost two years now, and this thing happening right here is just one of your schemes to playfully get on your competitive boyfriend’s nerves.

“____,” Oliver says your name again with a sigh this time, voice not daring to go a volume higher now that you’re near despite the situation, “please tell me why the bloody hell are you and your team on this pitch this morning?”

You put on your best innocent expression. “Well, we’re training, of course.”

“Yes, but I can specifically recall that I booked this pitch for the whole day. So, it’s a great wonder to me why I’m seeing you Ravenclaws here.”

“Hm, are you sure you booked it the whole day though? From the schedule that you showed me, it says there that it starts at 9AM, which is…” you glance at your wristwatch, “two hours from now. Meaning until then—”

“You have the freedom to use the pitch,” Oliver deadpans.

You grin. “Exactly, my love. You and your team can certainly wait, right? Though I’d appreciate it if you don’t hang around here while we’re playing. I might accuse you of stealing our strategy.”

“Strategy? Didn’t know you had one when we take into account the way you play.”

“Well, considering I’ve already won two games against you, maybe apparently not having a strategy might work on Gryffindor too.”

“One game was won by default.”

“And the other one?”

“Pure luck, of course.”

You laugh, and Oliver’s lips twitch, like he’s suppressing to do the same just to commit to the act he’s doing.

“Can we head to the Great Hall first for breakfast, Wood?” A Weasley twin pipes in amidst your impromptu staring contest with your boyfriend, causing Oliver to glance behind him and nod reluctantly.

“Fine. The rest of you can go get breakfast. But we meet here at exactly 9AM. Got it?”

The team says a chorus of yes and proceeds on walking back to the direction of the castle. Oliver, however, stays in his spot and raises his eyebrows at you, the mask of annoyance seen on his face a while ago seemingly gone now.

“What?” you ask, still with that teasing grin of yours.

“You promised.”

“I didn’t promise anything.”

“You told me you weren’t going to steal any of my days for Quidditch practices.”

“Technically, I’m not stealing as it is not your time yet.”

“Always such a smartass.”

“That’s what you get for dating a Ravenclaw,” you say, mounting your broom before giving him a quick kiss on the mouth and dashing back upwards where your other members are already zooming around.

Oliver shakes his head in disbelief; it’s unfair how you can get away with shenanigans that he typically would curse another team for. “I expect the pitch to be empty by 8:55, alright?” he bellows, just so you can hear him from where you’re situated.

“Aye, aye, Captain!”

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

can you do leo valdez x hades fem reader pleasee

⋆⭒˚.⋆ leo valdez x daughter of hades! reader hcs

content: leo valdez x daughter of hades! reader hcs warning: none! (lies tiny angst at the end my bad) authors note: yall need to ban me from listen to sad music while i write bc i ruin whole ass hcs by making em sad at the end BLAME PHOEBE BRIDGERS AND MITSKI THIS IS NOT MY FAULT YALL I WILL NOT TAKE THE BLAME did i put the music on?? yes. did i also know this would happen?? yes. BUT IM JUST A GIRL IN THE WORLD STFU-

leo would tell anyone who listened that you guys were fated to fall in love

you always roll your eyes but let him list off all his reasons why he believes this

firstly, you guys met purely by chance

you'd been walking around in the woods, having sensed some interesting bones there earlier and wanting to dig them up and hear their story

leo been running from the stoll's after a wonderful prank, which sent him hurling through the bones you'd just managed to reconstruct from the ground

"hey! i just got mr. cain here back together and then you come running through him like you own the place," you huffed before continuing to lay into leo, who looked up at you with borderline heart eyes

you were yelling at him and he was falling in love

you forced him to help you collected his phalanges and pelvis and leo did so without needing to be told twice, wanting to spend more time with death's daughter

from that moment forwards, you had two shadows, one which spewed constant pick up lines and jokes

nico was not happy, purposefully making sure to uproot bones in places that leo walked often, leading the boy to trip a lot

sadly, this backfired on nico, as you were always there to catch leo and rebury the bones

nico also tried knocking some sense into you by forcing you to admit to your father that you had a crush on some boy

but, once more, this only solidified your feelings as persephone had been in the underworld and squealed with joy at the reveal before dragging you off to a girl's night

it was a night filled with cosmo magazines and face masks and flirting techniques and the trading of lip glosses

nico gave up after that, in fear that he'd just push you two closer together

leo always bragged that it was fates work getting you together, but you always believe it to be nico's attempts to keep you apart

anyways, following you girl's night with persephone, you figured you had enough tools to get the guy

but before you even had the chance to apply your new lip gloss, leo dragged you to where you first met and was asking to be your boyfriend

you agreed but whined about not being able to ask first

and, as an olive branch for nico, leo made him some silver skull themed jewelry, which nico took with a glare and nod

that was the closest leo got to acceptance from the boy but he took it

you gift leo little trinkets that the dead gift to you, thing you think he'd like

a pocket watch from a 1950s boat conductor, a ring from a danish seamstress, a cog from the titanic that one of the passengers stole with his dying breaths

he proudly displayed it all on a shelf above his work bench, sometimes leaning back in his chair and staring up at it to get inspiration

and one night, while you were sitting on the couch in bunker nine, while leo worked and you cuddled into one of his sweaters, you reached over and traced your fingers over the photo of him and his mom

"...she's in elysium," you whispered, fingers ghosting over the photo and eyes locked onto her own

leo turned in his chair, face scrunched up as he wasn't entirely sure he heard you. and he wanted to make sure he heard you correctly.

"what?"

"your mom. she made it. she...she's waiting for you, leo. she's so, so proud, gods you can feel it, come here," you replied, heaving breaths as you felt it course through you, jumping you and rushing to him, shoving your hands against any part of his skin you could reach

he could feel it, your typically cold skin was burning up, warm and thudding and leo could swear he could smell his mother's natural smell of grease and her tamales that she always made for his birthday

"you're the best thing she ever made. she has no regrets, not a single one. the love she has for you is...it's so strong, leo. even my father can't kill something like that," you whispered, sliding your hands against his skin as to keep the contact, to allow him to grasp onto the feeling for longer

leo's hands grabbed your wrists, guiding your hands over his shoulder to his back before he tugged you into his chest, pulling you into a suffocatingly tight hug

you splayed your hands wide over his back, spreading the feeling to anywhere you could reach as he cried into the crook of your neck

he was muttering in spanish, pieces you've picked up here and there, translating into words like 'grateful' and 'love' and 'miss you' and 'mom'

and while you were growing exhausted from effort to use your powers, you refused to quit, knowing he needed and deserved this

soon after, leo pulled your hands from him, worry covering his tear streaked face

"oh, my sweet girl," he whispered as you slumped against him

without a second thought, he picked you up and laid you down on the couch, knowing you needed rest after that

he could tell you were already asleep from the soft fluttery breaths that left your mouth

he kept one of your hands held between both of his, no longer feeling his mother's love but something different

something similar though, the strength behind it nearly as strong

"thank you," he whispered against your skin before pressing a kiss to your temple

and then he said a silent thanks to whoever sent him you, whoever sent him barreling through your bones that fated day, whoever made nico want to break them apart, whoever had persephone home when you revealed your crush on the boy

he'd thank whoever would listen for the daughter of death, for he would never stop being grateful for her.

[poursomesunaonme]

living room mural

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: what could be more innocent than a home reno with your partner gojo satoru?

word count: 12k of unadulterated filth

author’s note: rewrote my debut piece on this blog :') i will never recover lmao

content/warnings: minors dni, established relationship w/ satoru; about a gazillion pet names (love, sweets, baby/babe, princess, darling, sweetheart, pretty girl), oral (fem receiving), fingering, dacryphilia, choking, teasing, a microscopic speck of angst, praising (good girl), degradation (cumslut), lots of spit, body painting (with actual paint), does that count as exhibitionism if it’s plastered on the walls, reader is blindfolded, biting, breeding kink, daddy kink, multiple creampies, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, edging, squirting, v rough, a sprinkle of fluff, gojo antagonizing poor nanami

(we’re gonna pretend that this paint is non-toxic and won’t permanently damage skin pls ignore how down despicable i am for this concept🥺😭)

The pungent scent of fresh paint and sawdust flooded your nostrils as you rolled the first coat of paint over the primed walls.   The first stroke of beautiful white paint against the shit brown left you nearly breathless.  You wanted to sit down and marvel at this step of progress, but the satisfaction of even a single stroke had you craving the finished product.

Before you got back to work, you closed your eyes, listening to the sound of Satoru working outside.  He was sanding down the wood to build a bookshelf in the living room.  The drone of the sander starting and stopping would provide a good rhythm for your work.  A smile rose to your face as you heard him talking to himself in the same animated manner that he would use in speaking to other people.  You sighed, looking back to the wall you had to tackle.

In a frenzy, you went to work, the roller gliding over the wall with ease.  The streaks of paint turned into even blotches of beautiful white, which after countless minutes of aching-inducing labor, was a finished work of a completely white wall.  You stood back, setting down the roller.  Your fingers nimbly massaged your shoulder as you swung it around a bit to get out the cramps.

You had two more walls of white to do before you started on the last wall that you and Satoru had agreed to paint an olive green.  The accent wall also happened to have the fireplace on it, which you were going to leave for last with how tedious the work would be.  You went to the kitchen to grab a drink, deciding to make one for Satoru as well.  Admiring the wall once again, you passed through the living room and looked out the screen door, seeing him hard at work.  The sweat glistened brightly on his forehead, accentuating his face that was contorted in focus on his task.

You kicked open the door, laughing at his face brightening when he saw you with his refreshment.  He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the bottom hem of his tank top, revealing his toned abs.  You sighed, content, as he left his work to sit on the steps with you, groaning as his butt hit the cement.  He lifted the goggles that he was wearing, setting them on his forehead.  You handed him his drink wordlessly, watching his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped down the water.

Together, you looked out into the yard, which was ablaze with the light of the afternoon sun.  It was the point in the day where the sun seemed to shine the brightest before the hue changed with the golden hour.  The stacks of supplies littering the grass were the only indications that the two of you were in the middle of a home renovation.  Satoru’s work station was meticulously set up in his own specific way to make his tasks easier.  You found the organized chaos endearing.

You set your cup down next to you after taking a sip, wiping the condensation of the glass off on your jeans.  Flecks of paint littered them right down to the cuffs.  Surprised, you pulled out the hem of your cami, seeing that you had also somehow gotten paint splattered on the front of it as well.  You surmised that you had made the right decision to wear clothes you didn’t care too much about.  Sighing, you picked up your glass once again, gulping down water to satiate your thirst.

“I have two more white walls to do, then it’s onto the fireplace wall,” you told him.  You leaned into him and found that the dewiness of the sweat on your arms made them nearly stick together.  He didn’t respond.  His lips were locked onto the glass as he downed the water like it would be his last drop.  You nudged him with your elbow.  You wanted to know how his work was coming along.  He finished his water with a dramatic “ahh,” setting down the empty cup next to him.

“I have a lot more wood to sand down,” he commented, gesturing to the stack he had next to his workbench.  “I did not think this through.  Do you still want a bookshelf?  I think that maybe we could do without it.”

You chuckled and rested your head on his shoulder briefly.  “Yes, ‘Toru, I want one.  But we can always just buy one from Ikea.”  You blinked innocently, yet a smirk toyed with the corners of your lips.  “But I at least thought that the best would be able to finish a simple bookshelf.  Guess I was wrong.”

You hoped that the mocking statement would injure his pride enough to spur him to finish the task.

The corners of his mouth turned into a frown, lost in thought for a moment.  Then, he jolted upwards with a newfound fervor.  You chuckled to yourself at how easily he played right along into your hands.  “I’ll finish it!”

Planting a quick kiss on your lips, he sprinted back to his work, grunting as he picked up another board and set it on the table.  The sander turned on, Satoru guiding its movements with ease, muscles rippling in the afternoon sun.  You watched for a bit, sipping your water as you watched the sweat begin to seep through through his tank with his added effort.  The sawdust that flew from the wood stuck to his skin.

After a few more minutes, your drink was finished.  You set your hands on your knees, grunting as you stood up.  You had hoped that the work wouldn’t make you too sore.  The burning spots targeted by your repetitive motions said otherwise.  Satoru noticed you taking your leave.  You waved to him, which in response, he winked, gritting his teeth as he held the sander in place.  You plucked the empty cups from the step and entered the house once again.  You set them in the kitchen, then got back to work on the next wall.

The painting was easier as you got into a steady rhythm, even switching hands on occasion when your arm started to wear out.  The work was repetitive and calming; letting out a gruff laugh, you considered switching jobs to become a painter.  It was exponentially less stressful than teaching.  With a sigh, you stood back, realizing that in your reverie, you had finished the last two walls, both of which didn’t have anything that you had to paint around, making them easy to finish without incident.

You smiled to yourself, wondering how Satoru was doing with his work.  He had been so excited when he came up with the idea (it was more your putting the idea into his head and him taking the credit for it) of building a bookshelf for you, a light tone that contributed to the peaceful atmosphere of the living room.  You knew it would be the perfect piece that you two had been looking for to complete the layout.

You sat down next to the can of green paint, prying it open and then dumping a healthy amount into the pan.  You picked up the other roller, watching as it soaked up the pretty olive hue.  Staring intently at the wall you had to tackle, the only thing you had to worry about was the fireplace, which you were still picking out a color for.  Pieces of your hair tumbled into your eyes.  You brushed them away, quickly deciding that you were going to worry about painting the wall directly next to the fireplace at the end of your work.  

Halfway thorugh the wall, you thought that being a professional painter would definitely be a viable side job, seeing as you were now working efficiently and had ascertained easy tricks to make the work seamless.  After you had finished the unblocked parts of the wall, you started at the bottom of the fireplace with a new, smaller brush, carefully tracing next to the painter’s tape.  Both sides were finished quickly enough, only leaving the top of the mantle to tackle.

The fresh paint smell had attached itself to your body, your nose not even used to it after the seeming hours you had spent applying it to the walls.  Standing on your tiptoes, you attempted to reach and stroke the paint blindly across the back edge of the mantle.  No matter where you stood, you couldn’t see over the edge, and you certainly didn’t want to use a roller and get more on there than you needed.  Sighing with frustration, you set down the brush on the pan.  You straightened up, hands on your hips, trying to figure out another way to tackle the situation.

“Only you can make painting look this good,” Satoru commented from behind you.  You whirled around, seeing him leaning against the doorframe, covered in sawdust, arms crossed over his chest.  His goggles were up against his hairline, pushing the hair up at a funny angle.  You smiled and sauntered over to him.  He whistled at your sultry approach and planted a kiss on your lips when you reached him.

“‘Toru,” you started sweetly, trailing a finger down his chest, “now that you’re here, would you be a doll for me and paint the spots above the mantle?  I can’t reach.”

He stooped down, pressing a kiss into your damp forehead.  “Of course, love.”

You clapped your hands, spinning back around and beginning a trot back to the fireplace.  Satoru kept pace with you easily with long strides.  You squealed as one of his large hands collided with your ass.  You cast a glance at him, seeing the devilish grin at the satisfying sound.

He plucked the brush from the pan, dabbling a bit to get more on the bristles.  With ease, he stood at the mantle, not even having to stand on his tiptoes to see what he was doing.  You watched with arms crossed as he set long strokes across the base.  His back muscles pulled taut and released with grace with his movements, the sparkling of his sweat glistening with the setting sun filtering in through the windows.

The sawdust sprinkled across his body began to fall off as his sweat dried, adding a certain kind of magic that only he could embody.  It was almost like special effects.  It looked like a hazy dream with the glimmer of sweat and the perfectly orange light.  He applied a few more strokes, then let his hand fall to his side, examining his work.  Once he deemed it presentable, he turned back to you with an endearing smile gracing his lips.

You quietly padded over to him, feeling like you were floating on air in the approach.  In turn, he glided over to you, eyes wandering up and down your body from under his snowy eyelashes.  You bit your lip with a cheeky smile.  His eyes narrowed reflexively like a hunter’s.  Without warning, he lunged forward, brush extended.  You squealed and tried to recoil, but your reflexes weren’t fast enough for the huge streak of paint he spread down your shirt.

You looked down at it, then back up at him.  “Satoru!”

He let out a laugh, tossing the brush to the side, not bothering to look as it clattered over the covered floors.  “Sorry, couldn’t say ‘no’ to those thoughts.”

You charged at him with your arms extended to swat playfully at him.  He grabbed your biceps with an iron grip and pulled you close to subdue you.  It worked, but not before you squirmed in his embrace, making sure his shirt was covered in paint as well.

After you had stopped moving, his grip loosened and he pulled back, examining your shirt with a mock concern.  He tugged at the hem, seeing that what was once a stripe of paint had spread to cover the whole front of your shirt during the tussle.

“Hun, I think your shirt is ruined,” he commented, corners of his mouth turning up at the sight of your indignation.  He stooped down so close that his lips were brushing your ear.  “Think you should get rid of it now.”

You decided to take his comment literally (how he intended).  You shoved him playfully, pulling it off over your head, revealing your bare chest.  His jaw dropped as he tried to croak out a response to your actions, but you beat him to the punch.

“Guess I had no choice but to take it off,” you murmured.  Your eyes flickered down to his shirt and back up to how his jaw tightened.  He took the cue, slightly fumbling with the hem, but he didn’t any move to remove it.  You took a step toward him, your heart beginning to race.  The afternoon air wasn’t nearly cold enough to make your nipples hard, but the sight of Satoru sure was.  The golden light shining through the windows made him look like an angel with the way it illuminated the dust around him and the sweat still shining on his skin.

“I think that would apply to you too, ‘Toru.”  You closed the gap with another step as you reached for the bottom of his shirt.  He continued a forward movement, pressing his whole front against you.  The friction of your nipples rubbing against his shirt ignited a heat between your legs.

“‘Mkay.”  He lifted a hand to gently stroke your cheek.  His thumb rubbed roughly against the skin before he pulled it back to show you the paint on his finger.  You swatted his hand away, forcing his attention onto you.  “Take it off then.”

A smile rose to your lips as you obliged happily, nimbly tugging his shirt up to reveal his chiseled abdomen.  The sight never failed to take your breath away.  You let your fingers skim over his muscles as you pulled his shirt up over his body.  His arms lifted gracefully to make your job easier, and after throwing it to the side, he was bare chested.

Before you could lift your eyes to meet his, his lips met yours gently.  A tiny moan escaped you at the silky softness of his.  Your hands found his arms and you gave them a satisfying squeeze.  The muscles rippled in response to your touch.  Your fingers skimmed up and down over his skin, eliciting heavy breaths from Satoru.  

After just a few moments, your fingers felt raw.  With a start, you realized that the bumps on Satoru’s skin were clumps of sawdust clumped together by sweat.  It made things difficult, as it seemed to be everywhere and was rough on your fingertips.  You started to dust him off, ignoring how the grainy flecks stuck between your fingers.

He pushed you backwards, hands beginning to wander as his tongue swiped over your bottom lip.  You opened your mouth in response, letting out another moan – this one louder than the first – as his hands wound around to your backside, giving your ass a solid squeeze, a cheek in each hand.

You opened your eyes to see his reaction at the sound you had made - the looks of which you were not in the least disappointed by.  Satoru’s eyes widened with surprise, then narrowed as his pupils blew out.  Any sense of reservation with you was gone as soon as the vibrations left your throat.  Half pushing, half carrying you, your bodies collided with the fireplace wall.

The wet paint stuck to your skin, the scent once again invading your nostrils after the sappy sweetness of Satoru’s had taken over your senses for those brief moments.  You pulled away from the kiss, chest heaving.  Satoru gave you a questioning glance before diving down to plant open mouthed kisses on your neck.  Your hands met his hair, lightly pushing him away, but he didn’t pay much attention to your efforts.

“‘Toru, t-the paint’s still wet,” you squeaked as he sucked on the skin.  He mumbled something against your neck before biting it lightly, tugging it between his teeth.  The heat between your legs blazed even more intensely at Satoru’s tunnel vision.  His passion was just too much to ignore.  A feral groan left your lips as that one action sealed the wet walls’ fate for the night.  

“Fuck it,” you sighed.  Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.  Lips collided again as he took full advantage of your abandon, wrapping you up in his arms completely.  He squeezed you tightly.  Your chest flattened against his.  His tongue was warm in your mouth.  With a low moan, his fingers looped through the belt loops of your jeans, tugging you directly to where the tent in his pants was.  A gasp passed between your mouths at the friction.

The moment seemed to spark something within him as he pulled back from your mouth.  You pouted, trying to stand on your tiptoes to reach his again.  Your fingers danced across his shoulders.  He towered over you, eyes darkened with lust.

“Open your mouth,” he commanded, pulling on your loops to emphasize his words.  Your response was immediate, obeying him fully, sticking out your tongue slightly.  His hands untangled from your belt loops, ghosting over the skin of your chest up to your throat.  One hand tightened around it while the other stroked your cheek lovingly.  You blinked rapidly, waiting for him to do anything else.

It wasn’t much longer, as he had paused for a minute to gather spit in his mouth.  Pursing his lips, he parted them slightly, letting a dribble of spit through them.  Not faltering in your pose, you let it hit your tongue, watching intently as the rest of the warm liquid left his lips.  Once he had finished, he gave your throat a light squeeze.  A signal to swallow.  You obliged, taking it in full and giving him a sultry smile afterwards.

“God, you’re so hot,” he growled, your lips meeting once again.  His hands left their position and wrapped around your waist once again, pulling you closer to him.  As he pried you off the wall, your nipples perked at the cold hitting your back.  It was accompanied by the strange tightness of the paint beginning to dry on it.  

It wasn’t long before he slammed you against the far wall.  At least, you thought it was.  You were so disoriented already from Satoru’s intense onslaught of passionate kisses, but you didn’t care.  One wall was already ruined, what was the hurt in fucking up the others?

The kissing was fierce, passionate.  You both fought for dominance, though it was always Satoru who won out in the end, even when you decided to take control and pin him against the wall instead (which, in any case, you knew he enjoyed).  Over and over you turned, covering every inch of the wall with your bodies.

It seemed that Satoru shared the same mentality, as the process repeated itself again and again until you pulled back to catch your breath.  You glanced around, and a laugh escaped your lips.  Satoru sighed, following your eyeline until a guffaw left his lungs as well.  The surveillance led us to the discovery that the initial makeout had left your entire backside (ass included) covered in green paint; this in turn, with Satoru’s slamming you against the far wall, had led to your ass displayed on every inch of it.

“Well, that was something I didn’t expect to ever see on the wall of a house,” you commented, bumping into your lover.  He chuckled, planting a kiss on your temple.  His arm wrapped around your waist, the warmth of his body sending a shiver through you.

“I personally love the view.”  To emphasize his point, he grabbed your ass and squeezed it, leaving his hand covered in paint.  “I think it’s missing something, though.”

“And what’s that?”  You looked at him, seeing the usual devilish grin spread across his face.  He didn’t even have to see your face to recognize the quizzical look that you would give him when he had one of his crazy ideas.

“Well, two things.”  He held up two fingers to you like you didn’t know how to count.  “First of all, I want your bare ass there, so take off your jeans.  Second, mine isn’t there!”

You laughed, the sound echoing throughout the empty room.  “What are we gonna do, slather paint all over your ass and have you stamp the walls?”

“Yeah?  What else?”  His nonchalant tone drew a giggle from you.  Your eyes widened with glee, not expecting him to have been serious at all.  He turned to you, face brightening at your enthusiasm.

“Oh, this is gonna be golden!” you smirked, getting the paint roller and the pans of paint.  Together, you stripped down bare, throwing your pants in a pile where your shirts were.  Because your prints were already there, Satoru was adamant about getting painted first.  Indulging him, you knelt on the ground, prying open an extra can of paint that you had bought in the hopes of finding a use for it.  The pretty lilac color poured out into your spare paint tray.  Satoru giggled in delight as you soaked the roller and gestured for him to turn around.

“Okay, it’s gonna be cold,” you warned, not hesitating to start to roll the paint on the back of his thighs and over his ass.  He squealed like a schoolgirl, wincing at the temperature on his sensitive skin.  “Chill out!  You’ve faced worse than this, you baby.”

He didn’t say anything, but stilled his body as you put more than was needed on his skin.  After you covered him with a copious amount, you tapped on his calf.  “I think you’re good to try.”

“Ooh, I can’t wait to see!”  He ran over to the wall and leaned against it, making sure his legs were flat against it as well.  He gave you a dramatic look, crossing his arms to emphasize his mock impatience.  Lifting his arm to check his imaginary watch, he sighed.

A soft smile rose to your lips, watching his theatrics.  The golden light filtering in through the window illuminated him beautifully.  The sawdust was almost completely shaken from his skin, as was a result of your fierce kissing earlier; however, a few motes still unstuck themselves from him and drifted away, looking like little fireflies in the dazzling glow.

He sparkled like Christmas lights, standing there so nonchalantly, yet looking like a Renoir.  The shadows cast by his handsome features cut so deep against his skin, the crests and valleys of his toned muscles like a landscape you felt like you had yet to explore.  Eyes widening, you shook your head to bring yourself from your staring.

“I don’t think it would take that long for it to settle,” you told him with a knowing smile.  “Hop off and let’s see it.”

His eyes widened at the odd sensation as he pulled away from the wall.  You gasped, seeing the stamp of his ass.  You knew it was going to be hilarious, but the imprint of his ass seeming to hover over the backs of his thighs in the middle of the wall sent you into a fit of laughter.  His laughter soon followed when he saw the shapes.

Your stomach began to ache as you laid down on the ground, still in throes of giggles.  Satoru came and sat down next to you, petting your head, watching you chuckle at the scene.

“Isn’t it just a work of art?” he commented.  You rolled your eyes, sitting up and getting your own paint tray with the olive green still sitting inside of it.  You stood up, turning and gesturing to the tools.

“My turn!” you sang, swiveling your hips.  Without fail, Satoru’s hands cupped the bottom of your ass, lifting and shaking it.  You craned your neck to see him watching it jiggle in wonder.  With a sigh, you turned back around, waiting for him to roll paint onto it.  Without warning, his teeth sunk into the fleshy skin.  

“What the fuck!” you yelped, whirling around to flick him in the forehead.  His teeth flashed into a grin as he narrowly avoided your fingers, picking up the roller instead.  “God, you’re insufferable.”

“What?  I just couldn’t help myself.”  His sweet tone threatened to make your teeth rot.  While it hurt at first, the pleasure of it was beginning to hit as the irritated skin began to heat up.  You shifted uncomfortably, not exactly wanting to ask him to do it again, but wanting it all the same.

“Just paint my ass.”

“Now that’s a sentence I’d never thought I’d hear coming out of your mouth,” he snickered, not even warning you that he was going to start.  You sucked in a breath at the cool feeling on your bare skin, not wanting to show your discomfort as much as he did.  The coolness felt wonderful on the spot where he bit you.  He finished in a few seconds, the foreign sensation ceasing as quickly as it began.

You ran over to where he stamped the wall and sat against it.  The height difference made you giggle as you imagined the print of your ass barely level with his thighs.  After a few seconds, you pulled back, grimacing at the sticky sensation.  You turned around and slapped a hand over your mouth, seeing the plumpness of your ass on the wall.

“We should frame that and put it in the Louvre,” Satoru joked, coming up beside you and wrapping an arm around you.  You turned to him, pulling closer, your chests pressed against each other.  Your mouth was slightly ajar, not even wanting to say anything to him.  You were both naked, and you wanted him.

When he looked down and saw your expression, he licked his lips hungrily before your lips collided.  The kiss deepened without hesitation, with Satoru’s tongue slipping into your mouth.  His arms enveloped you easily, pulling you closer, roaming all over your bare back.  The gentle skim of his fingers sent shivers down your spine.  He tilted his head down slightly, breaking the contact of your lips enough to leave your foreheads pressed together.  Your eyes met as heavy pants passed between your lungs.

“Lay down, sweets,” he murmured, cupping your face in his hands.  You nodded and obeyed without a word, the tarp crinkling underneath you.  A low whistle escaped his lips as you spread your legs for him, the cool air hitting the heat gathered between your thighs.  He crouched down, marveling at the view before moving in closer.  As he crawled to settle between your legs, something other than the tarp crinkled.  

Your eyes widened as you looked to the source of the sound, finding that Satoru had accidentally placed his hand into the lilac paint.  You opened your mouth to protest as Satoru shrugged and proceeded to continue his approach, but he held his clean hand up to his lips.

“Let me paint you, baby,” he murmured.  You swear he could’ve slid inside then and there because his statement nearly made you gush.  His soft white hair tickled your inner thighs as he reached his journey’s end.  He looped his arms around your thighs, his left hand smearing wet paint all over your leg. 

The slippery sensation felt amazing as he squeezed and massaged them, planting kisses on the sensitive skin of your thighs that made your pussy flutter.  He sighed, hot breath tickling the needy skin, before licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit.  You moaned, arching your back at the contact.  You reached down, tangling your fingers in his hair to hold on for dear life.  He chuckled lowly, his painted hand untangling from your leg.  He watched, beginning to suck on your clit, as his hand snaked up your body, leaving a trail of lilac paint.  

Satoru’s huge hand kneaded your tit, leaving a handprint to mark his territory.  You squirmed in his grasp, the chilly paint causing your nipples to pebble into peaks.  He pinched one as he buried his face in your pussy, picking up the pace.  Even in the haze his fervor cast upon you, the exaggerated movements of his hands smearing paint all over your torso grounded you in the moment.

You pulled him closer by the hair, moans spilling from your lips.  Even with your eyes squeezed shut, you could imagine everything that he was doing with the heightened senses that your arousal gifted you with.  His other arm unwound itself from your leg and trailed up your torso, arriving at your mouth.

“Open up, princess,” he cooed against your pussy, causing you to squirm against the vibration of his voice.  You did as you were told and he didn’t hesitate to slip his pointer and middle finger inside.  You hollowed out your cheeks, sucking obediently, swirling your tongue around his fingers to coat them with your saliva before he pulled them out.

“Good girl.”  Your eyes widened as he spread his digits apart, watching the trails of spit that webbed his fingers with a lustful gaze.  He briefly rubbed them on your clit, then swiftly plunged them into your cunt.  You cried out as he curled them upwards, finding the spot he knew so well.  He swirled them around a bit, finding a good rhythm and watching you wriggle before gracing your clit with his mouth once again.

The second he resumed his work, you could already feel yourself getting close.  You couldn’t help that each exhale was an obnoxious moan; Satoru knew your body better than you did.  The slurping sounds that came from between your legs could’ve made a nun blush as he worked his hardest to bring you to a climax.

The heat spread everywhere on your body as the complementarity of Satoru’s rhythmic fingering and incessant tonguing worked together to stimulate you.  Your legs began to shake as your eyes rolled back into your head.  Your fingers pulled harder on his hair, telling him to keep it up because you couldn’t form the words with your own mouth.

“You’re close, hm?” he purred, scissoring his fingers against your velvet walls.  You squeezed your thighs together, trapping him.

“Mmhm,” you managed to squeak out.  Without a word, he resumed his speed, your pussy throbbing against his mouth.  Pulsing muscles constricted and loosened rapidly as they sucked his fingers deeper into your cunt.  The intensifying loudness of your moans sung of the quick approach to your orgasm.

“Cum for me, darling,” he egged you on, watching in satisfaction as you unraveled before him.  You cried out, legs seizing up as the orgasm hit you like a freight train.  He continued his onslaught, mouth and hand working to keep the stimulation going, while his other hand was still massaging your breast.

The waves of pleasure began to ebb away, and the stars cleared from your vision.  You sighed happily, massaging Satoru’s scalp as he slowed his pace.  Your body jerked occasionally, still in the throes of the ebbing orgasm.  He picked his head up, planting kisses up your abdomen, settling on the breast that he hadn’t covered in paint.  His other hand remained in your cunt, still massaging your g-spot.  His thumb roved your clit in lieu of his mouth.  Your head spun as he tongued and sucked on your nipple, setting off fireworks all over your body.  

“S’toru,” you whined, “kiss me… please?”

He released your nipple with a soft pop, teeth flashing in a luminous smile.  “I love it when you beg for me,” he murmured, twisting his fingers deliciously.  The buttery smoothness of his lips brushed against yours, fueling the flames in your belly.  You melted into him, pliable as putty as he worked you into another climb up the mountain of pleasure.  

“Ngh, fuck!” you choked out as your head rolled back, gripping his shoulders.  Your moans were quickly muffled by his mouth on yours, enveloping the soft tissue and every sound that came from it.  His lips were impossibly smooth, contradicting the roughness of his fingers that rolled within you.  Satoru’s teeth bit and tugged on your bottom lip, before parting your lips with his tongue and gently sliding it inside your mouth.  His face pulled away, watching your expression contort with neediness.  The paint drying on his spare hand, he reached past your head, fumbling with his clothes.

You opened your mouth to ask what he was doing, but it quickly snapped shut when you saw his blindfold dangling from his hand.  The grin on his face was telling of what he was going to say, and you were more than eager to agree.  Before you knew it, Satoru was slipping the blindfold over your head, settling it gently over your eyes, surprisingly all while still keeping a steady rhythm massaging your g-spot.

“You doin’ okay, sweetheart?” Satoru’s voice showered down on you from his position above.  You could hear the smile in his tone at the sight of you splayed out underneath him, completely at his mercy.  The thought made you nearly gush.

“Uh-huh, ‘Toru,” you moaned sweetly, relishing in the warmth of his body on yours.  The brush of his lips on your mouth nearly made you jump out of your skin, but you soon dissolved into the contact as his tongue slid inside of your mouth.  He threatened to swallow you whole, your tongues intertwining like snakes, salia mixing sloppily.

“Can you take another, pretty girl?”  Satoru’s lips left yours and whispered the question directly into your ear.  The ghost of his breath brushed against sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine.  A whimper escaped you, but you nodded, clinging to his shoulders.  He didn’t hesitate to plunge an extra finger into your cunt, letting your walls assimilate to the stretch.  He spread his fingers wide within you, eliciting a cry from your lips.

“So much,” you mumbled, the familiar feeling of the tears prickling in the bridge of your nose as you struggled to take his three fingers.  Despite your whimpering, he continued, relentlessly curling his long fingers to tickle the spot that ruined you every time.  As he continued gently pumping his digits into you, your walls assimilated to the girth.

“Helpin’ you get ready for the main show.”  The smile was evident in his voice as he planted a kiss on your open mouth, ignoring your eyebrows knitting together, ignoring the trembling of your entire body, but especially ignoring your knees weakly struggling to come together, blocked by his hips lodged between them.  

The alien chill of paint covered the skin of your throat as his hand wrapped around it, gently squeezing. Your head began to pound with each beat of your heart.  After a few more moments of his fingers dexterously massaging the soft skin of your neck, his hand traveled upwards, grabbing the sides of your face and squishing them together.

“Open up for me, darling,” he purred.  You didn’t need to see to feel brilliant blue eyes, darkened with lust, as they pierced through you.  Your mouth went dry as you forced it open.  Your tongue protruded, waiting for what you knew was to come.  His finger brushed against your cheek as he pushed the blindfold up slightly, allowing you to watch the scene that unfolded.  Without fail, Satoru stuck out his own tongue, watching lazily as the spit he gathered dropped from one mouth to another.

The fire in your belly exploded at the feral gleam in his eyes, at the renewed ferocity that he plunged his fingers into your cunt, at the tantalizing movement of his thumb on your clit.  A gurgle escaped your lips at a particularly potent movement within you that zapped like electricity throughout your veins.   Your nails dug into his skin as you fought to keep your head from spinning off.

“Uh-uh,” Satoru tsked, shaking your head back and forth easily to emphasize his words.  You hadn’t even realized that your mouth snapped shut.  “Don’t swallow yet.”

A tear slipped from your bleary eyes, rolling down your cheek.  His lips were on your face in an instant, kissing the wetness away.  Your lips trembled, along with your whole body, as Satoru’s digits wreaked havoc within your velvet walls.  The fire in your belly spread throughout your limbs, rendering you a shaking mess as your orgasm came barrelling at you.

“S’toru?” you mewled, drool spilling from the corner of your mouth.  He fixed his attention on you without words, eyes gleaming at you as they watched you struggle to string sounds together.  “Can I swallow now?”

The question must’ve sounded so silly with the amount of spit impeding your speech, but Satoru only gently kissed your forehead, his voice rumbling against you.  “Of course, princess.”

As the warm, slightly sweet liquid descended down your throat, one of your hands ceased gripping his shoulder like a lifeline and fumbled around the tarp.  You could feel his eyes looking inquisitively at you, but you ignored it as your hand found what you wanted.  The gooey viscosity of the olive paint coated your hand.  As you removed your hand from the tray, the excess paint dripped off, splattering onto the tarp.  The foreign feeling of skin through the barrier of paint met your hand as you placed it on the back of Satoru’s neck, pulling him closer to you.

Your lips met his ear, the pungent scent of the fresh paint flooding your nose once again at the proximity.  “Can I cum, ‘Toru?  ‘M close, babe.”

With a kiss to your neck, he removed his dexterous digits.  You cried out, surprised by the empty feeling, missing the stimulation both inside and out of you.  Looking down, you saw that Satoru had simultaneously begun to line himself with your entrance.  Your eyes widened as you saw what you had been hoping for, biting your lip in excitement.  His body twisted slightly as he reached for something behind him.

“You ready?”

He already knew the answer.  A cheeky smile lit up his face, telling you everything you needed to know.  His ego needed to be stroked.  You needed to be filled.  Mutual interests.

You shoved those thoughts out of your head, filling them with your desire for Satoru and Satoru alone.  You had chosen each other, claimed the other for yourselves.  Passion filled the air around you - had already begun to seep through the walls of the house as you made it your own.

You nibbled on your lower lip, blinking your eyes like a doe.  He softened seeing your expression, leaning down lower so that the hair that cascaded down tickled your forehead.

“Yes, baby.” 

His thick cock plunged into your weeping cunt all while he wrapped his freshly painted hand around your throat.  A struggling moan left your lips as your body attempted to become accustomed to both feelings, but the overwhelming intensity of being stretched by his cock and being painted as his property sent your head spinning.

The blindfold slipped down over your eyes once again at Satoru’s slow but powerful thrusts, leaving you dazed.  The tarp beneath you crinkled loudly at your movements, but you paid it no mind.  His pace halted for a second, then resumed as his other hand joined in on the Pollock that was your body.  His other hand remained gripping your throat as the freshly coated member roamed your body, coating it in the beautiful lilac paint.

You fumbled blindly for your paint tray, your wandering hands finally finding purchase once you gripped the plastic.  You pulled it closer to yourself and plunged your hands into the cool liquid, not caring that paint was dripping everywhere - down your arms, onto the tarp.  They slunk over Satoru’s body, coating him in the beautiful olive hue.  As much as you wanted to see the art you were making, you also loved that it would be a surprise when he let you take off the blindfold.

The tip of Satoru’s dick knocked against your cervix as he picked up his pace, his cock beginning to twitch within you.  You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, holding him closer to you.  He tweaked your nipples, face buried in the crook of your neck as your neediness brought him closer to his high.  You wrapped your legs around his waist, hoisting yourself up off the ground for him to get a better angle.

“Ah, fuck,” he panted into the sensitive skin of your neck, “you’re killin’ me, babe.”

You only smiled, tilting your head back at the way his hips rutted against yours, at the way he rubbed against your clit so deliciously, at the way his balls slapped against the crease of your ass, dripping with the juices that flowed from you.  His tip nuzzled so perfectly inside that it brought tears to your eyes.  Your walls had stretched to accommodate his huge length, squeezing him so nicely.

The coil in your center needed to be unraveled.  Moans poured from your lips as you used the leverage you had wrapped around him to feebly fuck him back, eliciting a string of curses falling from his mouth.  Your tongues intertwined sloppily, ministrations pouring from mouth to mouth as you both approached your high.

“C-cum with me?” you panted against Satoru’s moist mouth.  He only managed to get out a grunt as you felt him jump inside you once again.  He fucked you hard and fast, breath nearly flaming in your mouth.  Your wet hands roamed all over his body, quickly followed by your nails digging into his soft skin as fireworks exploded within you.  Without warning, your orgasm hit harder than you expected, eliciting an obnoxious moan from your lungs as you held him impossibly close, squeezed him impossibly tighter.

That was all he needed as he came inside you, shuddering breath spewing against the soft skin of your chest as he planted open mouthed kisses against the unpainted inches of your breasts (at least, you hoped that he wasn’t ingesting paint).  Your walls continued to contract, milking him dry as you felt him spilling in you, opting to paint your inner walls instead of the living room.

Your body convulsed with the power of the orgasm, your legs falling limp to the tarp, unable to hold themselves up anymore.  His dick slipped out of you as your ass hit the ground, the empty feeling drawing a cry from your lips.  You lay there, panting, feeling his cum leak out of you.

Satoru nestled into you, weighing on you like a security blanket, as you both recovered from your highs.  Your fingers tangled in his hair, relishing in the movement of his chest against yours, nothing separating you as you lay tangled on the floor of your living room, in your house, in the new chapter of your lives beginning.  You pressed a kiss into his hair, letting out a content sigh.

You wanted to stay like this forever.  To remain in the arms of your lover, on the floor of the living room in your new home.  To freeze this moment where he was all yours, when his mind was only on you, on you both, and nothing else.  You knew that eventually you would both go back to work, he would go on amazing and dangerous missions, and you would be left alone in the empty house, waiting for him to come back.  But, at least you would have this memory - you would know that you were his and he was yours.

“Let’s go on a field trip!” Satoru giggled, jolting you from your peaceful reverie.  Your hands flew to coat themselves in paint, as you knew that he was moving you away from the tray - and you wanted to continue with your game.  His arms wrapped you up and lifted you.  Your nipples perked at the cool air on your back.  Paint and cum dripped off your body as you wrapped your legs around his torso, squeaking at the slightest brush of his abs against your clit.  In no time, you hit a wall.  Satoru’s hands were on your ass in an instant, lowering you to sink down onto his dick.

A cry escaped your lips as you felt like being split in two all over again, your cum leaking all over him from your last orgasm.  A shudder rocked through your body as a breath hissed out of you.  Nails burrowed into skin feebly to counteract the pain of his girth stretching you.

His fingers dug into the supple flesh of your ass, painting it with his lilac liquid as he easily suspended you against the wall.  You felt the damp paint begin to streak across the wall as he bounced you up and down on his cock, his face buried in your neck, gently kissing and biting the sensitive skin.

The prickly feeling of tears in your nose rose to a peak as your clit dragged against his front.  Swollen from overstimulation, it throbbed weakly, your cunt weeping at the painful pleasure.  Tears began to stain the blindfold as they fell from your eyes, just barely leaking out from underneath to streak down your cheeks.  You sniffled, clinging to Satoru’s broad shoulders.

At the sound, a chill hit your neck as Satoru removed his face.  His lips were pressing to your cheeks instantly, kissing the tears away once again.  Warmth spread all over your body, being wrapped up in the arms of the sun itself.

“Oh, princess,” he muttered, still peppering kisses over your face even though the tears were gone.  “Don’t cry!  Look how well you’re taking my cock.  You’re being so, so good for me.”

You mustered up a smile at his praises as his lips collided with yours once again.  Pressing your back against the wall, you angled your body so that you were able to grind in circles on him.  The overstimulation zapped within you every few strokes, but it was beginning to ebb away at the rising crest of pleasure.

“Fuck, just like that, baby,” Satoru groaned, beginning to rut into you faster.  By now, all of his cum had leaked out of you, splattering distastefully onto the floor.  He seemed to notice the sound at the same time you did, as it fueled him further.

“Maybe that attempt might not’ve gotten you pregnant,” he hissed into your ear, self control beginning to dissipate.  “Maybe I should fuck another baby into you, hm?”

“Uh-huh,” was all you managed to force out at the ferocity in which he began railing into you.  His energy never failed to amaze you, and never failed to pleasure you.  One of your hands flew to the wall to steady yourself, smearing paint all over it in the process.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s see you pumped full of cum again, baby.  Is that what you want?  Want me to cum in you again?”

His actions were nothing short of animalistic as he pushed, pressed, pinched every inch of your body, beginning to nip at the skin of your neck as he began to lose control.  Your feeble mind could barely keep up with his physical and spoken output.  Your eyes squeezed shut under the blindfold, then opened, seeing nothing.

“Yes, please, ‘Toru.”  Your breathing came in gasps as your high drew nearer.  You could see stars in the corner of your vision as the coil in your belly threatened to unravel, spilling honey from your sex at every thrust.

“Please what?”  The teasing tone of his voice was a poor cover up at the desire for you to satisfy him, to play into his fantasy that he wanted - no, needed - to make a reality.

“Please - ngh!” you couldn’t finish the sentence.  Your mind was fogging up, halting all mental processes.  All you could think about was his cock drilling into you, your walls weakly squeezing to keep up with his pace.  His lips pressed against your chest, tasting the salt that covered your skin.

“Say it, baby.”  The softness of his voice soothingly flowed over your ears, gently caressed you and carried you to the precipice of your orgasm.  You drew a deep breath, forcing your brain to put together sounds.

“Please… let me make you a daddy!”

The words tumbled from your lips like prayers, falling on the ears of a sympathetic god, who showed mercy by pounding into your sopping pussy.  Your lover, althought he was the one who physically dominated you, was easily emotionally bent to your will like a spring sapling.  His pace faltered slightly, then picked up with a new vigor as he processed your request.

“Oh, that… that’s my girl!” he forced out, cock twitching uncontrollably within you.  One of his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you up, while the other reached to grab your throat.  At the stimulation of the sensitive skin, he pushed you over the edge of your orgasm.  You came together for the second time, mixing his seed with your juices once again as they both ran down your thighs, spilling onto his cock.

The cries that came from your lips could’ve made the neighbors call the cops.  You clung to each other, suspended in a mindblowing orgasm, his hips erratically slapping against yours.  Hot breath mixed between your mouths as your lips collided, soft moans expelled between the both of them.  You were so close - your breaths were mixing, you couldn’t tell where his body ended and yours began, you were truly one.

“I love dragging you around like my little braindead cumslut,” Satoru whispered into your ear.  Your eyebrows furrowed at his unprovoked statement, but you couldn’t help that his words made your walls clench around him.

All of a sudden, his arms disappeared, and you were supported by nothing.  Struggling to find your bearings, being blindfolded, you flailed wildly.  Satoru’s laughter drew a smile from your own lips as he caught you again and set you down, letting you find your footing.  

You wanted to slap at him for teasing you, but your brain was still recovering, still searching your other senses to make sense of your reality.  Before you could string two thoughts together, his hand was on the small of your back, guiding you a few paces away.  Without warning, he pushed you over, sending you slamming nearly face first into a wall.

“Fuck!  ‘Toru, that hurt!”  Your whines fell on deaf ears as he spread your ass, whistling at the sight of the cum dripping down between your thighs.  Your hands flew to brace yourself on the wall as he began ramming into you once again, slipping in without incident.  His hands slid down your arms, coating them in paint.  They finally found purchase as they reached your hands, intertwining with your fingers and raising them far up over your head.

As much as you struggled against him, you were powerless to tear your hands from his grasp.  His cock slid in and out of you seamlessly, coated with the results of… how many orgasms?  Five?  You didn’t know, you lost count.  Satoru peppered your shoulders, the grooved blades of your back, the nape of your neck, with kisses, eliciting soft moans from your mouth in opposition to the jarring ones that occurred if he thrusted into you, hitting a certain point that made your body twitch.

His hands released yours and they fell to your eye level, resuming their position in holding you up against the wall.  Right after you had righted yourself, had steady footing, was about to fuck him back, he surprised you with slaps to your ass.  The paint dulled them, the wet slapping sound echoing throughout the living room.

You turned to look at him, sneakily pushing up the blindfold with a free hand, to take in the sight, watching as he, tongue sticking out of his lips in focus, reared back, hand dripping with paint.  The cold sting of his palm met the sensitive skin of your ass as he cocked his arm back for another hit in quick succession, almost making a drumbeat of spanking your ass.  The movement was carefree, as if he was swatting an annoying bug away from him.

Paint covered his front, the lilac and olive and white all mixing together to make a swirl of beauty.  It mesmerized you, the way it clung to his body, emphasizing and complimenting his stunning figure, the valleys of his abdominals, the rugged landscape of his muscles.

You turned back to the wall, the blindfold slipping over your eyes once again.  They squeezed shut as he ceased, obviously pleased with how the lilac paint melted in with the redness of the plowed skin.  He grabbed your ass in his ginormous hands, gently massaging it, spreading and closing it, using the cheeks in ways that took both he and you to new heights of pleasure.  

“Definitely think,” he panted, lips against your ear, “that we need to frame your ass.”

Before you could even open your mouth to answer, your hands were in his once again, but he twisted your arms around to your back.  He looped an arm through yours, settling the lock at the crooks of your elbows, decommissioning your movements once again.  Your hands opened and snapped shut, grasping as nothing as his thrusts intensified.

His other hand, still damp with paint, roamed over your breasts, massaging and pinching the bare skin.  They had been previously coated, but knowing how meticulous Satoru could be, he made sure they were absolutely slathered in copious amounts of his paint.

He pressed you into the wall again, and you felt the paint stick to the surface in the shape of your breasts.  Your cheeks flamed at the thought of your entire body painted across the living room walls.  But you knew that Satoru loved it, that he would be drooling over it until you decided to paint over the walls and adjust the hues to match the aesthetic that you were aiming for.

With his free hand finished with creating art out of your breasts, it traveled north, finding purchase around your neck like a piece of jewelry you’d always worn.  He squeezed lightly and tilted your head back, just barely restricting your airway enough for your breath to come in rasps.

“Open up, darling.”

Like a robot, your jaw dropped and your tongue shot out, waiting for the familiar feeling of his spit.  He didn’t leave you waiting long, as almost as soon as you obeyed him, his saliva was dribbling down onto your taste buds.  You smiled lightly at the feeling, loving the fact that you could share this moment and label it as intimate.

“Swallow.”

Your pussy fluttered around his length, eager to obey.  A sigh escaped his lips as he watched your throat bob with the odd angle that it was working against.  He planted a sweet kiss to your lips, his nose brushing against your chin.  The contact was lost, then found again as he nuzzled his face against your neck for a moment, before pulling away again.

“Open.”  His command seemed desperate, like it was the only thing keeping him from stepping off a ledge.  As much as you wanted to make fun of his theatrics, your mouth snapped open, eager to have another part of him in you.  He wasted no time, coating your tongue with his saliva.

“Now wait.”

The only thing you could do was whine as your jaw began to ache from holding your mouth open for so long.  He released his hold on your throat, but in true Gojo fashion, wasted no time in executing his next movement.  He swiftly looped an arm under your left leg, pulling it upwards until you felt like your hips would split in half.  You squealed in discomfort, drool spilling from the corners of your lips, your body being bent a million different ways.  For the first time in the afternoon, Satoru relented, releasing your arms.

Your hands tangled in his hair as he bit into the soft skin of your neck, of your shoulders, back pressed against his chest.  His dick, at this new angle, hit your sweet spot more perfect than before, if that was even possible.  He went deeper, you squeezed him tighter, you were closer.

He thrusted into you, the tempo threatening to cast you into nothingness.  With each movement you were pressed harder and harder into the wall, the paint sticking to the surface.  It ached to pull you in, to suck you into the wall, to the white paint that was still drying, now mixing with the two hues that Satoru and you decorated each other with.

“One more, baby,” he cooed against the flaming skin of your shoulder.  “L-lemme cum… one more time… in you.”

“Anytime, ‘Toru,” you teased, but the playful lilt in your voice was lost as he didn’t hesitate to shoot inside of you.  You squealed at the way his cock jumped in you, knocking against the spot that was your downfall.  His balls slapped against your clit, shoving you over the edge of an orgasm you didn’t know you were approaching.

You toes curled and cracked at the force in which the crest of pleasure hit you.  Your legs gave way and you lost control of yourself for a moment, the drool you had been holding in your mouth spilling like a waterfall over your bruised lips.  Satoru was quick to catch you, laughing at your frailty, which for once, you didn’t mind.

His lips were on your face, kissing and licking away the spit that had escaped the trap of your mouth.  He supported you in a way you didn’t think you’d ever need, but surprisingly, you didn’t mind relying on someone for help.  A warmness spread in your chest at the affirmation that you truly loved him - you loved him enough to not complain at him holding your drool-soaked and cumstained body limp in his arms.

“God, you are just so full of cum, aren’t you, baby?” Satoru purred into your hair, stroking it gently.  You could only muster a weak “mmhm,” your body still shaking from the overstimulation and the last orgasm he unleashed on you.  “Well, are you gonna let me taste?”

You didn’t have time to answer before he scooped you up in his arms, giving you the vivid sensation of flying.  A coolness met your ass as he set you down on what you could only assume was the mantle of the fireplace.  He spread your legs apart, ignoring the fact that they attempted to squeeze together to protect your weeping cunt from being stimulated further.

“S-satoru,” you winced, “I’m sensitive!”

It was no matter to him, however.  He pulled your bottom slightly forward, so that your ass was teetering on the edge of the tile, giving him better access to your aching center.  A loud cry escaped your lips as he gave your swollen clit a few soft licks.

You whimpered, your thighs trembling around him as he sucked on your impossibly sensitive bud.  Your hands tangled in his hair, the gummy paint clinging to it and clumping it together.  After a few more moments of relentless stimulation, he seemed to ease up, giving way to softer movements against your weeping cunt.

“You should see yourself,” Satoru muttered against you.  “Sitting like a queen.”

Perched like royalty on the furnishing that had given you enough trouble to start this whole session in the first place.  You chuckled at the thought of it, at the sight of your past selves wrestling to coat each other in paint what seemed like days ago.  It was fitting to end your love making where it began, fitting to christen your house to be yours.

“Hah,” you breathed, “I can only imagine the sight.”

A sigh escaped his lips, the hot breath on your sensitive center making your legs twinge.  His hands gently squeezed your thighs, each press planting flowers across your skin.  The soft tufts of his hair tickled the inside of your legs as he nuzzled impossibly closer to your cunt.

“Spit in my mouth.”  His request couldn’t have been more foreign, but you tried your best anyway.  You leaned over, assuming that your trajectory would be right, or that he would make it work.  Gathering the saliva in your mouth, you let it fall from your lips.  A chuckle came from beneath you, so you assumed your aim was okay.

Your mixed spit was spewed from Satoru’s mouth as he spit it onto your already dripping cunt, the liquid leaking down between your asscheeks.  You gasped at the sensation, beginning to lose feeling in your toes as another orgasm approached.  Your eyes shut tight, but even with the blindfold, fireworks still exploded in your vision.

You were definitely not going to be able to walk for a few days.

The thought drew a bitter laugh from your lips that was quickly cut short by Satoru’s dexterous tongue flicking across your clit.  Your teeth sunk so deep into your bottom lip that the skin threatened to tear.  At his relentless pace, your muscles pulled impossibly tense, taut, as you sat, rigid, teeth bared as ungodly sounds poured from your mouth.

And then, he would soften.  Pull back and kiss and lick the inside of your thighs, place love bites, suckle on the warm skin to leave marks you would marvel at for days.  He’d massage the tender skin, draw patterns with the remaining paint.  He’d study you like a scholar, memorizing the view of your exposed throat as your head tilted back, mouth open as moans spilled forth.

It was a cycle that he continued, pressing you further to your orgasm, then relenting to give you a break.  Over and over again, never stopping, like you were the shore and he was the tide, pressing in and pulling away, constant, always present.

After what seemed like hours of edging, you were finally on the precipice of what you actually hoped was your last orgasm.  Your body couldn’t take much more, as you probably would stroke out or something else that was equally disastrous, but it would be something that would elicit an awkward urgent care visit.

“Satoru…” you whispered, not even needing to finish your sentence.

“One more time, love.  Cum for me.”

The affirmation was all you needed before you gushed all over his face.  His gasp of surprise was cut short as he dove right back in, ignoring the waterworks.  Your entire body shook with the force of your orgasm, sending your hands flying everywhere - into his hair, gripping the mantle, smearing paint all over the wall behind you.

But nothing was enough to ground you as you cut the tether and drifted off into space.  Your body floated, suspended at the force of this orgasm.  You could barely feel Satoru’s warmth between your legs as the buzzing took over your entire body, your skin flaming with pleasure as you feebly grinded on his tongue.

Your pussy throbbed, achingly swollen at the multiple orgasms Satoru had guided you to.  As this last one ebbed, he wrapped his arms tenderly around you, lifting you from the throne he had placed you on.  He planted kisses on your head, on your forehead, on your cheeks as he carried you bridal style across the room, then gently plopped down on the ground.

You remained nestled between his legs, your fingers intertwined as you sat together, relishing in the closeness of each other.  His mind-numbingly warm skin was pressed against yours, sending sparks firing off all across your body.  After a few more moments of blissful silence, Satoru cleared his throat.

“Are you ready for the grand reveal?”  His smile broke through the phrase like a sunbeam.  You nodded, not feeling like using your voice.  His dexterous fingers hooked under the blindfold as you shut your eyes tight, not wanting to hurt your eyes by immediately exposing them to the light.

After a few more moments, your eyes creaked open, blinking to clear away the crusty remains of tears and to focus on the sight that presented itself to you.  The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the world cast into an eerie twilight that was simply magical.  It was the perfect lighting to behold the mural that you created in your living room.

Streaks of paint covered the walls, most of them completely indiscernible as to what part of the body they were made by, except for a few, such as your ass prints and the plumpness of your breasts.  Heat rose to your cheeks at the sight of such an abstract portrayal of art, and how breathtakingly beautiful it was.  You sunk further into Satoru, insanely grateful at his stupid antics and what they spiraled into.

“I guess I have to restart my paint job, huh?” you nudged him with your elbow, the gooey, sweaty skin sticking together.  You tilted your head up, observing his reaction.  Satoru furrowed his brows, his hair falling into his face in green clumps.

“I don’t know…” he trailed off, flashing an award-winning smile.  “I kinda like it!”

He was right.  The messy pieces of your love were growing on you as you studied them further.  It was pure art, pure passion, splayed across the walls of your home.  The handprints, clinging to nothingness in the hopes of being steadied.  The smears, results of loving and pleasurable thrusts.  The asscheeks, of course, the lovers who facilitated the beautiful creation.

A calm settled on you like nothing you had ever felt before.  A sense of security folded in around you as you lay in your lover’s arms, proudly surveying what you had made together.  You closed your eyes in bliss, relishing in the warmth and peace.

Wait…

Your heart fell to your ass at an intrusive, yet irrevocably important fact.  Eyes widening, you shot up, ignoring the chills that spread throughout your body in the absence of Satoru’s warm skin pressed against you.

“Shit!” you gasped, the detail that you had glossed over for the entire afternoon expanding to take up the entirety of your mind.  “Kento’ll be here in an hour.”

Satoru laughed at your scrambling to pick up your clothes and throw them in a basket, trying your best to tidy up the living room.  You put the paint together in a neat fashion; you smoothed the tarp, ignoring the imprints of your bodies and the paint smears that littered it; you also did your best to avert your gaze from the numerous pools of cum that were scattered across the floor.  Your eyes widened in horror at the thing that you were just marveling at - the one thing you couldn’t hide from your best friend.

The living room walls, like a subdued pornographic mural, stared back at you.  The tarp crackled as your lover stood.  You looked at Satoru, your eyes big as saucers.  He smiled gently, taking your hands in his and pulling you closer to him, placing them on his chest.  

“There’s nothing we can do to fix it, so let’s just get cleaned up, alright?”  His arms wrapped around you, snuggling you to his chest.  You sighed, turning your head to the side to hear his heart thumping.  He planted a kiss on the top of your head.

“Okay,” you murmured, then peered up at him with a devilish grin, “but only if you join me.”

“That was implied!”

Once you had gone for another round and managed to scrape the paint off of your bodies, you were ready for the dinner that Kento was bringing.  Earlier that day, he had offered to bring you food to celebrate the end of the first day of home renovation - which you eagerly accepted.  Pizza was easy to clean up, and a viable way to recharge, so that was an easy decision to make.

A knock on the door sounded as soon as you were making your way down the stairs.  Satoru took off in a sprint, reaching the front door in just a few strides.  He threw it open, spreading his arms wide for a hug.  You hung back, trying to avert your gaze from your living room mural.

“Nanamin!” he yelled, embracing his friend despite the boxes of pizzas he was carrying.  Kento’s eyes narrowed as he struggled to keep his balance at Satoru’s enthused greeting.

“Careful, Gojo!” the tall man growled, pushing Satoru away to keep the boxes from tumbling all across your porch.  You laughed at their interaction, catching up to them and taking the boxes from Kento.

“How are you?” he asked, silently thanking you for taking his burden, but ignoring the fact that you left him with a bigger one instead.  A playful smile toyed with your lips as a strand of wet hair fell into your face.

“Tired, but glad to have one day down,” you admitted, turning and leading the way to the kitchen.  Satoru tsked as you set down the boxes of pizza on the kitchen table.  You whirled around to face him, setting your hands on your hips.

“Now, darling,” he began, voice chiding, as if speaking to a child, “you know you aren’t supposed to eat in the kitchen until the renovations are finished.”

Your heart fell into your stomach when you saw the expression on Satoru’s face.  He was an absolute menace, looking to antagonize you in any way he could; however, you thought this ploy was geared more towards Kento’s discomfort.  You gritted your teeth and decided to do your best to gear the conversation in a way that you wouldn’t have to expose your deeds.  Blinking innocently, you fixed your mouth into a smile, trying not to look pained.

“What?”

“Yeah,” Kento agreed, walking to the table to grab the boxes of pizza, not knowing that he was playing directly into Satoru’s sick idea of a joke, “I actually heard that’s bad luck.”

You wanted to slap your palm into your forehead.  As smart as Nanami was, he was almost always stroking Gojo’s ego whether he knew it, liked it, or not.  You fired a glance at Satoru, pleading for him to not go through with this antagonizing, but he ignored you.

“Bad luck!” Satoru gasped dramatically, eyes widening as he wiggled his brows at you.  A sigh escaped your lips as you cast him a warning glare instead.  This, also, was a fruitless effort.  Satoru was dead set on torturing his best friend.

“So where the hell are we supposed to eat?” you shot at Satoru, not even bothering to look at him anymore as you shuffled towards the two towering men.  Your grip had tightened, your nails digging into your palms. 

“Uh, I dunno, the living room?”

“Satoru…”  The tone in your voice would make a child cry.  You trotted to the cabinet to scoop up paper plates and napkins to intercept him before he made another move to expose your afternoon.  

“No, I wanna see it!” Nanami insisted, picking up the pizza boxes.  The doors slammed shut behind you as you whirled around, seeing Satoru’s sly glance.  You wanted to wipe the smile off his face.  “Didn’t you say you were gonna paint it today?”

Satoru gently led him to the living room.  You tried to catch up with them, but the tall men had long strides. Your head was screaming for him to stop, but you didn’t want to draw attention to yourself and make matters worse.

“Yes but-“

You were too late; Kento and Satoru had already entered the living room.  The boxes of pizza clattered to the floor as Nanami ripped off his glasses, eyes widening in horror at the sight of your bodies sloppily painted on the wall.

“What in the fuck happened here?!”

© all work belongs to poursomesunaonme. do not copy and repost.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Any Time You’re Ready

After another lousy date, Oliver’s parents remind him that love might be closer than he expects.

Oliver Wood x Fem!Reader

1.7k words

Warnings: none, fluff, kissing, embarrassing parents

A/N: Inspired by the Shawn Mendes song “When You’re Ready” because I’m obsessed with “What if my dad is right/When he says that you're the one”

~

“Goodnight, Oliver.”

“G’night, Casey.”

The girl stepped into the green flames in the Wood family fireplace, called out her address, and was gone. As soon as the flames resumed their usual orange tint, Oliver turned around and strolled into the kitchen. He found his parents, sharing a slice of cake and sipping tea. Their heads snapped up as he walked in.

“So, what’d you guys think?” Oliver grinned as his parents.

“She seemed nice,” his mom answered with a shrug.

His dad nodded. “Yeah, Cadie seems like a nice girl.”

Oliver’s face fell. “Casey, Dad. Her name’s Casey.”

“Right, right.” His dad took a sip of tea, clearly not embarrassed by his mistake. “But what about-”

“Dad, stop,” Oliver groaned. He already knew what his dad was going to say; he said it every time Oliver showed interest in a new girl.

You and Oliver grew up next door to each other and had been best friends from the time you could walk. Going to Hogwarts only brought you closer together, with all the time you spent together both in and out of the classroom, practically attached at the hip. And both of your parents had been convinced for years that the two of you belonged together.

Oliver’s dad held up his hands in defense. “’m just saying, son. I don’t know why you bother going out with these other girls. You’ve already got a great girl right next door. You’ve been friends since you were born. And everyone knows a friendship like that is the foundation of a solid relationship. Just look at me and your mother.”

“Dad,” Oliver said slowly. “You asked Mum out on your very first day at Hogwarts.”

“Yeah, and we were friends for the whole trip on the Hogwarts Express before that. Good foundation, like I said.”

“Right.” Oliver grabbed a tin of biscuits from the counter. “Well, ’m heading to bed. See you in the morning.” He waved at his parents and headed upstairs, taking the steps two at a time.

He should have been more surprised to find you lying on his bed, reading a book.

“How was your date?” you asked casually, eyes still on your book as he closed the door behind him.

“Fine,” he answered, crossing the room to close the window you had climbed through. He lied down next to you and opened the tin.

You took a cookie and shoved it in your mouth. “What do we think? Potential girlfriend?”

Oliver shrugged, helping himself to a cookie. “Probably not,” he admitted.

“It’s just as well,” you said, closing your book and tossing it on his nightstand. “She’s a bit of a dolt, if you ask me.”

A snort flew out of Oliver’s nose. “I don’t remember asking you.”

You elbowed him. “Well, you should’ve. I could’ve saved you a night of ‘Oh Oliver, you’re soooo funny, let me grab your muscles.’” You let out a fake high-pitched giggle and squeezed Oliver’s arm.

He warmed at your touch. No matter how hard he tried to fight it, he had finally admitted it to himself when he was fourteen: Oliver Wood was in love with you. So for the last two years, he tried to act normal, like he wasn’t thinking about you every second of the day, like you were just his best friend and nothing else.

But laying on his bed with you right next to him made it really hard to pretend.

“You’re so mean,” he laughed, trying to sound even. “Casey’s a nice girl.”

“Yeah, but she’s not right for you.” You wrinkled your nose.

Oliver turned onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow, facing you. “Oh, and you know what’s right for me?” he challenged.

You mirrored his pose, your nose close to his. “Of course I do. That’s what best friends are for.”

He felt a little tug on his stomach at the word friends. “Yeah, sure,” he scoffed, trying to play off the sting he’d felt every time you called him your friend over the last two years. “What about you? Any dates so far this summer?”

“A couple,” you admitted. “Nothing worth mentioning.” You flipped back onto your back, gazing at Oliver’s ceiling. “Why do we have so much trouble dating?”

Oliver stared at your profile, admiring the shape of your adorable nose and your perfect lips. “What d’you mean?”

“Well,” you sighed, “think about it. We’re both very good-looking, popular enough, definitely not idiots. Yet neither of us can get more than a couple dates out of a person. What gives?”

“Mmm.” Oliver thought a moment. He knew why none of his dates panned out, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why you, the most beautiful and perfect girl he knew, didn’t have a boyfriend.

Not that he minded.

“It’s not like I don’t have theories,” you continued, ignoring Oliver’s non-response. “Personally, I think you’re just too good for any of the girls at school.” Oliver felt his cheeks go warm again. “As for me, I’m going to go ahead and blame you.” You turned your head and smiled at your best friend.

“Me?” he asked with a dry chuckle. “How do you manage to blame me for your lack of boyfriend?”

You shrugged. “Think about it. Boy, girl. Best friends. Boy is good-looking and could probably beat up most of the boys in our year.” You popped another cookie in your mouth. “So, no one wants to date his girl best friend.”

Oliver stared at you a moment. Despite the fact that he definitely did not want to see you all cozied up with any of the boys at school, he couldn’t help feeling bad. If you wanted a boyfriend, you should have one. He never wanted to get in the way of your happiness.

It was as though you could feel his guilt. “It’s alright though,” you assured him with that sweet smile you usually reserved for Oliver. “Not like any of those boys are worth my time anyways. You’re the only decent boy in our year honestly.”

“Oh really?” he asked in a teasing voice, as though his heart was not hammering. The two of you had been doing this a lot lately: compliments, teasing just this side of flirting, skittering around a line no one was quite willing to cross, playing a game of chicken neither of you was willing to lose.

Tonight, you were the one who broke first. “So what’d your parents think of Casey anyways?” Your eyes were back on the ceiling of Oliver’s room, following the wizards flying around his Puddlemere United poster.

“They thought she was nice,” he answered, following your gaze. “My dad’s just disappointed that she’s not-” Oliver stopped himself, his eyes darting back to you.

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. “Not what? Smart?” A smirk played on your lips.

Oliver thought a moment. You weren’t a mean girl typically. You were sweet, and you had plenty of girlfriends. The only people you were mean about were… well, the girls Oliver dated. The gears turned in his head as he calculated the risk he was about to take.

“Well, not you,” he finally admitted. “Dad’s disappointed she’s not you.”

“Oh.” You blinked a few times. Oliver could see the rapid thinking behind your expression. “And… what about you?” You sat up and looked down at Oliver, all the playfulness gone from your eyes.

Oliver heaved himself up as well. “I… I mean…” He licked his lips and sighed. Just spit it out, he told himself. “Sometimes I wonder if my dad’s… right?”

“Right about what?” You fidgeted with the hem of your t-shirt, a nervous habit Oliver knew well.

“He…” Oliver cleared his throat and took your hands in his. He saw your eyes flicker to them before meeting his gaze again. “He says that you’re the one.” Oliver winced, preparing himself for rejection and the end of your friendship, the thing he’d been dreading for two years.

“The one?” you echoed, your hands still in Oliver’s.

He nodded. “You know. The one.”

The smirk playing on your lips broke some of the tension between you. “What would that entail? If I was the one, I mean.”

His fears melted slightly at the sight of your small grin. “Well, it would probably start… with this.” Oliver closed his eyes and leaned forward, pressing his lips gently against yours.

Much to his relief, you kissed him back, letting go of his hands and wrapping your arms around his neck while his hands settled on your hips. He could taste your bubblegum flavored Chapstick, the one he borrowed annoyingly often, and you could taste the chocolate from the biscuits that now sat forgotten near the foot of the bed.

When Oliver let go, he didn’t bother trying to play cool; instead, he grinned from ear to ear, not caring how goofy he looked.

Likewise, you couldn’t help the giggle that tumbled out of your mouth, your hands still on Oliver’s shoulders. “Starts with that, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s just the beginning.” Oliver leaned forward again, his mind racing with excitement. He laid back, pulling you on top of him-

“I think you mean that’s the end of the night,” came a voice from the door neither of you noticed opening.

Color rushed to your cheeks as you scrambled to sit back up, pushing Oliver off you. “Hey Mr. Wood,” you managed, as if he caught you making out with his son all the time.

Your best friend’s dad nodded pointedly. “You should probably head back out that window, young lady. I’m sure we’ll see you tomorrow. When you use the front door.”

With one last awkward smile to Oliver, you jumped off the bed and opened the window, clambering out the way you’d done millions of times before. Trying to be a gentleman (especially in front of his dad), Oliver watched carefully as you climbed down the tree by his window, tiptoed across his backyard, through the gate between your houses, and through your first-story window, where you disappeared after a quick wave in his direction. When Oliver turned around with that still dopey smile, his dad was still in the doorway, a smug grin on his face.

“Told ya so, son.”

[keraxxx]

Hate or Jealousy?- Part 3

pairing- oliver quick x fem! reader summary: After the other night, Oliver is getting tired of hearing his name in your mouth so he takes matters into his own hands. warnings: Smut, oral(Oliver receiving), brat taming, praising, oral fixation (implied), cursing, somnophilia(implied), not proof read wc: 1.5k A/N: Hi guys! sorry this chapter took so long to get out that is completely my fault! Hopefully you like this chapter its kinda just smut with no plot but next chapter will have more i promise. Enjoy! comment to be added to taglist

Requests are open

-

Why did you let him do that? Your head was reeling and you felt sick to your stomach for the next few days. It’s not like you didn’t want him to do that.. no. It wasn’t like that at all. But you let him manipulate you into eating all because he touched you? God how pathetic. You were mentally beating yourself up for being so stupid. You didn’t want to eat but if you stop, who knows what Oliver will do next.

You’re lying in your bed, curled into a ball, knees pulled up to your chest. You have this blank expression painted on your face, as if you’re unable to comprehend a single thing in your life. You hear a soft yet firm knock at the door. “Who is it?” You say dryly. “Farleigh.” You hum quietly and he comes in, a concerned expression painted on his face. “What’s up with you? You’ve been acting weird for the past two days.” You bite your lip as you sit up, your hair a mess yet still framing your face perfectly.

“Shut the door..” You whisper and Farleigh obeys. He walks over to your bed and sits down. “It’s about Oliver.” You whisper making sure no one in the hallways can hear. “The other night we..” You trail off and Farleigh immediately understands. “Oh.” He stifles a laugh but you glare at him and he immediately stops. “Right. Not funny, sorry. What exactly happened?”

“Well.. he like..” You shrug and look away. “I don’t know. He was all like ‘Oh, you’re gonna start eating from now on’ blah blah blah, ‘you’re just like Venetia, you’re so beautiful.’” You inhale deeply as you recall the memory. Farleigh looks at you in shock. “Well..” He exhales and looks at a wall in your room. “He didn’t like.. force you, right?” You shake your head. “I wanted to. God! He’s such a weirdo but i can’t stop myself from thinking about him..” You sigh and Farleigh raises an eyebrow. “So you like him?” He chuckles.

“No.. yes? I don’t know!” You sigh dramatically as you lay back down. “Maybe i should talk to him about it..” You whisper as you bring your thumb to your lips and bite at the skin around your nail bed. “Right.. well! I’ll leave you to it.” He says softly as he pats your shoulder once more before heading out the room. You huff as you hear the door close. You really need to talk to Oliver.

You find your way to Oliver room, walking through Felix’s empty room and shutting the door. Oliver is sitting on the bed and he perks up. “Ollie..” You whisper, staying alert of anyone near the room. “What the fuck.” You whisper yell as you stay against the door, your hands behind your back as he feel the wood door. “Nice of you to see me..” He says softly as gets off his bed, walking towards you. “I enjoyed the other night..”

His voice.. there was something he was hiding behind his seductive tone. Was he lying or being genuine? You couldn’t tell. “Shut up.” You practically barked as he got closer, inches away from your face. “Why would I?” He smirks slightly as he places his hands on your waist. “Look at you..” He says softly as he looks you up and down, tutting to himself. “Perfect even after you eat.” He snarks and your face twists into a frown. “Get off me.” You don’t attempt to push him off though.. you let his fingers dance on your curves as he looks at your body. “Do you really want me to, love?” He sarcastically frowns as you avert your gaze from his. “God I hate you,.”

“You really fucking love me.” He whispers as he moves his head in front of yours so you’re looking at him again. “I know you do.” You lock eyes with him, your bottom lip quivering. He knew he was right. Well, partially. Love was too strong of a word.. you liked him, most definitely. “Gods sake..” You mumble as you gently push him off you and open the door to leave his room.

Everything that went down was too much. You liked Oliver and he fucking knew. That’s not a good thing.. at all. Just the thought of him made your clit throb.. the sight of him. Every time you laid in the field, body completely exposed to him, you enjoyed the attention he was giving to you. At first you didn’t, but now you did. Him observing your smooth legs and looking at your exposed chest did something to you and you didn't know why. This isn't good.

"Wait Ollie-" You moan out as he kisses your thighs, slowly getting under your covers as his hands trail up underneath your white shirt. You don't know what's happening. You woke up with Oliver kissing your neck. Everything was a bit fuzzy but fuck.. it felt so good. Your hands fly to the top of his head and your back arches up slightly as he kisses your clothed clit. "Ollie wha-" You grunt softly as you look down at him between your legs, hands resting on the sides of your ass. "You have such a big mouth.." He whispers as he tuts. "You should learn to be quiet and not gossip so much like your aunt." He trails his way back up to your face and you look into his eyes nervously. "You want my cock?" You can feel his breath on your lips and your mouth opens as your about to answer but he quickly covers your mouth. "Nod." You nod eagerly and he groans as he flips you on top of him.

You lean against the backboard of your dresser and you place your lips on his, allowing yourself to taste him. He quickly rips himself off you and shakes his head. "That's not the way to keep you quiet.." He scoffs as he lifts you up slightly, pulling down his pajama shorts, revealing his plaid boxer briefs. You want to moan at the sight of his hard cock yet you don't. You have to be quiet.

Oliver nods as you look down at it, hopping off his lap and eagerly bending over the side of him to slide down his boxers. You bite your lip as his cock springs out. You look at him and he leans his head back, his eyes locked on your pretty and plump lips. "Go ahead." He ushers and you slowly wrap your lips around the head of his cock. He shivers in excitement as your warm mouth swallows him whole. "Fuck darling.." He huffs out as you bob your head up and down his throbbing hard on, collecting every drop of pre-cum.

"You're so good for me.." He grunts out as he places his hand on the back of your head. "Good.. good.." Oliver whispers to himself as he controls your head. He pushes your head down, causing you to choke and sputter around the base of his shaft. He moves your head up and you pant, your spit falling down your lips. He laughs dryly as he looks at you. "You're better when your quiet you know.." You smile as you go back to sucking his cock, feeling him throb inside your mouth was something else. You could feel yourself growing wetter and wetter by the second. You tease him, your tongue trailing from his base to his sensitive tip. He grunts and his grip on your hair tightens. You swirl your tongue around him and without giving him a break, you quickly shove him down your throat again, softly moaning at his taste.

You could feel him becoming more frantic, his breathing getting heavier and his hips bucking up into your mouth faster than before. He was so close and you wanted him.. "Darling..." he whines out as he gasps softly, his cum shooting in your mouth and you push your head down so you can swallow it all, making sure not to miss a drop. He gasps as you pull yourself from his cock with a pop. You look at him and he eagerly places his hands on the sides of your face, wanting to taste himself on your lips. Seeing him so desperate was disgusting in a way yet you liked it. He pulled away and gently wiped your mouth. He pulled your head closer, fingers tangled in your hair and you groan softly.

"We need to be careful yeah? You don't want anyone else knowing what happened between us, right?" You nod and bite your lip. "Good.." He sighs as he gets up from your bed and pulls up his pants. "Farleigh is going to tell Felix but don't worry about it. I'll handle it tomorrow." He says and you look at him. "Wait you were eavesdropping on me and Farleigh?" He turns his head over his shoulder. "I told you to be quiet." He says smugly as he walks out your room, quietly shutting the door.

What the fuck.

-

Taglist: @l-ange-maudit @trashdemon04 @hahahafucku @powellssaturn @ihaterule14 @girlypop-06 @nolovinyou

[mrdrwrites]

Pairings: Felix Catton x fem!reader

Summary: you and Felix hate eachother but have to work together at a dog salon owned by your best friend Oliver. one day Oliver is sick of the two of you arguing and causing scenes in the workplace so locks you both in his office where you and Felix get a little more than friendly.

CW: NSFW, minors DNI, sex, blowjob, praise, bad language, rough-ish sex

WC: 1.9k

warning: i am dyslexic so don't expect all words to be spelled correctly, also i don't autocapitalise my words most of the time

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The day started as it usually did, Oliver drove to Felix’s house to pick him up, much to my disdain, and we all went to work. Today though, things were different. I felt different. More irritable.

‘Felix what the fuck!’ I screeched, looking at the purple maltese in front of me.

It had been two hours since work started and already Felix had fucked up.

‘What's wrong y/n?’ he questions coming from the other side of the room.

‘I asked you to do one thing,’ i put up a finger, ‘one singular thing and you cant even do that,’

He furrows his brows, ‘ I did as you said.’

‘No Felix. You didn't. You dyed the dog fucking purple,’ i point to the maltese wrapped in a towel, her tongue out of her mouth as she pants.

‘I did not,’ he challenges, ‘ I put the purple shampoo in, like you asked.’

‘No Felix. You really didn't,’ he is so stupid, ‘you put temporary dye on her coat. Not the shampoo.’

‘It's not my fault there were two bottles that looked practically the same on the end of the bathing station,’ he leans toward Brandy, the maltese, as if inspecting her for himself.

‘Yes it is,’ I roll my eyes, ‘read next time.’ I'm still yelling.

‘Oh shut it y/n,’ he rolls his eyes, turning to me now, ‘I'm sure you've done something like this before.’

‘No Felix i haven't, because believe it or not,’ i lean closer to his face, ‘i can actually read’

I see Oliver in my peripheral vision coming to Felix and i.

‘You two. My office. Now,’ Oliver states flatly, most likely tired of out yelling.

He is pissed. Without checking if Felix is following me I turn and stomp into Oliver’s office, arms crossed over my chest. Soon enough Felix joins me and I give him a pointed look, squinting and giving him a grimace. Behind us, the door slams shut. Locking from the outside. I rush over to the door and try wiggling the handle for it to open but it doesn't move.

‘You two aren't coming out of there til you figure out your differences. I am tired of you being hostile with each other,’ Oliver shouts through the locked door of his office.

I pound on the door begging Oliver to let us out but I hear his footsteps move further from the door. Sighing, I turn so my back is against the wood and slide down. Felix’s eyes follow me down, shortly following me sitting on the floor.

‘This is all your fault, i direct my anger towards the man across from me.

My knees are against my chest, skirt tight on my thighs. Felix quirks his head to the side looking from my legs to my face, a small smirk playing on his lips.

‘What?’ I question impatiently.

He shakes his head, raking his eyes down my legs once more. I huff and lean my head back. Oliver could have at least put music on or something so we aren't bored. No way in hell am I making up with Felix Catton. Not a chance.

‘y/n,’ I hear his voice, strained, unusual.

I look over, his eyes seem darker almost dangerous.

‘What?’ I question again, his eyes still trained on my legs.

Instead of answering he moves closer to me, so that he could reach out and touch me if he really wanted to.

‘What have you got on under your skirt?’ he questions, i drop my legs immediately, face blushing.

I ignore his question but his hands reach for my legs, pushing them back up to my chest. The pencil skirt doesn't budge as my legs move, still strained over my thighs. This certain pencil skirt is so tight any underwear could be seen through so I decided, in a rush to get changed, to not wear any at all. I'm still looking at Felix, his hands are still on my legs and his pupils are dilating. I can see the hunger in his eyes. My thighs clench together on instinct of being watched with such intent.

‘Can I touch you?’ his voice is barely above a whisper, eyes shooting up to my own, a need in them that I have never seen before.

I nod slowly, his eyes still trained on mine, ‘use your words y/n,’ he leans closer, ‘tell me i can touch you,’ his hand had dropped from my legs a moment ago but i can still feel the icy hot sensation as if they were still there.

‘Please,’ my breath hitches, ‘please touch me Felix.’

In an instant his hands are on my knees, parting them steadily. I feel my heartbeat quicken when he lets out a breath at the sight of me exposed.

‘You're so pretty y/n,’ he compliments, trailing his fingertips from my knee down my thigh.

He stops just as he gets to the place I need him most, making me let out a strained noise. At this moment i couldnt care less that this was Felix Catton touching me, i just needed him. His other hand, still on my knee, moves so it is on my jaw, his thumb rubbing over my bottom lip. The hand on my thigh moves further, his eyes on mine as he makes contact with my clit. I let out a breath when he begins moving in slow circular motions. As my mouth opens he takes the opportunity and puts his index and middle finger in my mouth.

‘Suck baby,’ he murmurs, still grazing his thumb over my clit in lazy circles.

I obey and begin coating his two fingers in saliva, sucking them like he had told me to. A moment later he is satisfied and trails the wet digits down my body til they are at my entrance. He lifts a brow, indirectly asking me for permission.

‘Please Felix,’ I beg, ‘I need you.’

I can practically feel how wet i am, ive never wanted a man to fuck me more than i want Felix Catton to fuck me right now. He moves the thumb from my clit and replaces it with his wet index finger, dragging it down to where I need him. He slowly inserts the finger and curls it when pulling out, brushing against my g-spot. I cry out in ecstasy. He adds his other finger, skillfully dragging them in and out of me. His thumb is back on my clit teasing me in a way that drives me crazy.

‘You're doing so well y/n,’ he praises, ‘you sound so good baby.’

My head is drawn back against the door, back arched and hands gripping at the hard floor. He picks up the pace, leaning down to capture my clit in his mouth. He sucks hard, tongue running over the sensitive bundle of nerves after a few seconds.

‘Fuck Felix i need more,’ i can feel him smirk against my wet cunt, ‘please,’ i beg.

He lifts his head and leans close to me, his lips wet, and kisses me. I can taste myself on his lips and it makes me want him so much more. The fingers inside me had been taken out and were now on either side of me, his stained pants brushing up against me. The friction was driving me insane, I pushed my hips towards the obvious bulge and grind against it. He moans against my mouth which spurs me to push further into him.

He pulls back, ‘you're killing me y/n,’ he states, out of breath., ‘tell me what you want.’

I bite my lip, suddenly self conscious, ‘you know what i want Felix,’ i look at him through my lashes, face flushed.

He leans closer, I can feel his hot breath on my face, ‘I do,’ he smirks, ‘but I want to hear you say it baby. I'm not going to touch you again until you do.’

My face heats up even more, the ache stirring between my legs getting harder and harder to handle. Felix sits back on his knees, face expectant.

"Come on baby, I know you can do it,’ he coaxes, hand reaching back out to stroke up and down one of my spread legs.

‘Fuck me Felix,’ i speak up after a moment, squeezing me eyes shut ‘please.’

He grins and begins to stand, pulling me up with him. He guides me towards the desk pressed up against the wall, backing me up on it til I have no choice but to sit on the edge. He's between my legs, hard dick strained against his grey sweatpants. My hands move to the waistband and one slips inside, my eyes lock with his and he urges me on with a nod. His black briefs are in view when I manoeuvre his pants away from his hips. He groans when I pull his briefs down and his dick is exposed to the cool air of the office. My cunt throbs in anticipation, many scenarios coming to light in my head. It seems my hands have a mind of their own when they begin working on his erection, they run up and down the almost seven inches of him. His head falls back when I lean forward and lick from the base to the tip, engulfing him in my mouth and swirling my tongue when I get back to the head. I hollow out my cheeks and begin sucking him as he lets out noises and words of praise. I take almost three quarters of him in my mouth before my eyes well up with tears and I begin to gag.

‘Fuck baby, youre doing so well,’ he moans out, ‘such a good girl.’

Heat pools in my lower stomach and my pussy gets impossibly wetter. I take his hard dick from my mouth with a pop, ‘fuck me Felix, i need you.’

He leans me back so I am propped up on my arms and spreads my legs further with his arms, hooking them around his waist. I feel him poke against my dripping cunt and I let out a shudder of bliss.

‘You ready?’ he questions, dragging himself along my pussy.

‘Yes,’ I replied almost instantly, the neediness of my voice coming out strongly.

He lines himself up and pushes inside of me slowly, allowing me to get used to his size. I let out a loud moan and shot up, putting both arms around his neck and dragging him down to my level. He mutters praises in my ear as he eases into me. After I adjust he pulls himself out slowly and pushes back in, setting a steady rhythm. My hands reach into his hair and I tug at it. His pace gradually speeds up, a finger back on my clit pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

‘Faster Felix, fuck, please go faster,’ im needy and he knows it.

He speeds up his thrusts and I feel like I'm going to combust at any moment. I feel the familiar feeling of an orgasm looming in the pit of my stomach, my moans become louder and I'm gripping onto Felix as hard as I can, absolutely losing myself.

‘Felix, I'm going to cum,’ I moan into his neck, his cock still driving hard and fast in my cunt and his finger still toying with my clit.

‘Come on baby,’ he coaxes, ‘cum for me.’

That is all it takes for me to finish all over him, calling out his name. He follows soon after, his thrusts becoming sloppier as my pussy clenches around his thick cock. He cums in me and only pulls out when both of our breathing steadies. I make eye contact with him and the only rational thought in my mind is to kiss him, and that is exactly what I do.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

AN: i specifically wrote this for my best friend @lovandr 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

[gwnwrites]

Good Luck | Oliver Wood x fem!reader

Summary: You wish Oliver good luck, even though you’re playing for the opposing team.

Words: 0,2k

Warnings: None, just pure fluff.

A/n: h/c is house colour

—

“Good luck today, Harry,” you said as you walked past him. He noticed that wore your h/c Quidditch robes and that you held a new broom over your shoulder.

“Thanks. Good luck to you too,” he replied. Your back was turned when Oliver walked over to stand beside Harry. “Don’t wish her luck, Harry.” He said as you walked away, “We’re playing against her team. You do want us to win, right?”

You were unaware of what Oliver had said, but turned around at the sound of his voice.

“Oliver,” you called out. “Good luck.”

The Gryffindor Quidditch captain felt his face heat up. “Thank you, lass. Good luck to you too.”

You walked away, smiling. Oliver noticed that Harry was grinning at him. The taller of the two frowned, “What?”

“Don’t wish her luck, Wood.” Harry replied, “We’re playing against her team. You do want us to win, right?”

—

Edit, 7 July: Heyy!! I’ve recently written an Oliver x Reader fic. It’s 1,8k words. Click below to read it!

Losing | Oliver x Reader

[awritessomething]

I have absolutely no ideas for writing whatsoever pleaseplease leave requests!!! Smut, angst, fluff, whatever y’all want I can probably do.

Ill write for these people and probably more that I forgot (all male character x fem!reader) :

Formula 1:

Max Verstappen

Lando Norris

Oscar Piastri

Charles Leclerc

Pierre Gasly

Lewis Hamilton

Carlos Sainz

Daniel Riccardo

Mick Schumacher

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid

Aaron Hotchner

Derek Morgan

David Rossi (preferably young)

Marvel:

Bucky Barnes

Tony Stark

Thor

Sam Wilson

Deadpool

Steve Rogers

Spiderman (Tom Holland, Andrew Garfield, Miguel O'hara)

Call of Duty

Keegan Russ

Simon "Ghost" Riley

König

Phillip Graves

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Star Wars:

Anakin Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Kylo Ren

Luke Skywalker

Han Solo

Outer Banks:

JJ Maybank

Rafe Cameron

Topper Thornton

John B. Routledge

Harry Potter:

Harry Potter

Cedric Diggory

Draco malfoy

Ron Weasley

Fred Weasley

Blaise Zabini

Regulus Black

Severus Snape

Tom Riddle

Sirius Black

Lorenzo Berkshire

Oliver Wood

The Walking Dead:

Glenn Rhee

Daryl Dixon

Rick Grimes

Carl Grimes

Miscallaneous:

Jack Champion (Ethan Landry)

Patrick Bateman

Batman (Christian Bale)

Johnathan Crane

Finnick Odair

Josh Hutcherson (Peeta Mellark, Mike Schmidt, Sean Anderson, Clapton Davis)

Rodrick Heffley

Colby Brock

Sam Golbach

Tristan Dugray

Dylan O'brien

Jude Bellingham

Joao Felix

Bellamy Blake

Patrick Dempsey (Derek Shepherd, Ronald Miller)

Joe Goldberg

Timothee Chalamet (Wonka, Paul Atreides)

Minho (The Maze Runner)

Keanu Reeves (John Wick, Neo, Alex Wyler)

Jim Halpert

Farkas

Ulfric Stormcloak

Miraak

Ben Schnetzer (Max Vandenburg, Brad Land, Russ Sheppard)

Brock Purdy

Ralph Macchio (Daniel Larusso, Johnny Cade)

Dallas Winston

Sodapop Curtis

Robby Keene

Zuko (atla dallas liu)

Jet (atla sebastian amoruso)

Cillian Murphy (Johnathan crane, jackson rippner, Neil Lewis)

Evan Peters (all ahs characters, Luke cooper)

What I wont do:

Pedophilia

Beastiality or anything animal-y

Waterworks

Male reader (sorry)

Character x character

Threesomes or anything not 1x1

Character x oc

Specific body types (i just don’t see the point)

Daddy/mommy kinks

Incest or stepcest

(I’ll prob have to add on but its midnight rn)