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slutforleeminho · 5 months

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“i wanna try something.” you breathed out between the hot and messy kisses you were giving minho, his hands gripping your waist tighter and pulling your hips down against his clothed bulge. he was already so hard, it amazed you how you could do the bare minimum and he would be fully erect in just minutes.

“whatever you want, baby.” he looked at you with so much love and admiration. that’s how he always responded to your requests, inside and outside the bedroom. ‘whatever you want, if i have it it’s yours.’ and then he’d kiss you until you forgot what it was you were even asking of him.

“you don’t even know what it is yet. how can you be so sure that you’ll want to?” you moved away from his lips to his neck, leaving little love bites as you went. he sighed when you sucked on the little sensitive spot behind his ear.

“oh baby, it isn’t in my blood to say no to you, especially when you’re sitting on top of me like this. you could tie me down to this bed right now and take me however you wanted and i wouldn’t refuse.” his brows were furrowed and eyes screwed shut, focusing on the feeling of your lips on his skin. he looked so fucked out, which made you wonder if he was just saying those things and not actually meaning them. but you refused to pass this moment up without at least trying. so you sat straight up, separating your top half from his. his eyes shot open and searched you face for the answer as to why you stopped. “did i say something wrong? i’m sorry, love, i didn’t-”

“no, you said exactly what i wanted to hear.” you smirked down at him, waiting for him to realize what you meant and when his eyes widened and you felt his dick twitch through his thin sweatpants you knew he understood. “would you like that? for me to cuff you this bed and have my way with you,” you asked in the most innocent voice you could, a big contrast to your words. “use you however i please.” your words went straight to his throbbing cock.

“yes. fuck, baby please.” his eyes were full of lust and anticipation, his voice so quiet and submissive that you didn’t recognize this person under you at all. you didn’t respond verbally, settling on silently removing yourself from his lap and stripping him of all remaining clothing. you didn’t get naked yourself until the pair of handcuffs you kept in your bedside table were safely securing his wrists to the bed frame above his head. when you did take your clothes off you did so very slowly, taking your time just to see him squirm. Minho didn’t take his eyes off of you once, not until you were back on top of him and the tip of his pulsing cock was pressed against your entrance. he threw his head back and sighed before he swallowed hard, trying to keep himself from falling apart beneath you. at least not so soon.

you took in everything about this moment, not wanting to forget anything about it. the way the veins that ran down his arms bulged, to the way he twitched every now and then, seemingly very worked up. his chest rising and falling violently, you’ve never seen him like this, so…. so submissive and pliant. it made you want to eat him alive. you ran your hands up his torso, feeling his hot skin against the palm of your hands. a little whine escaped his lips when you grazed his nipples with your fingernails. his hips rutted up into you, resulting in his swollen tip slipping inside of you. he gasped from the sudden stimulation and raised them higher in search of more. you took both of his nipple in between your fingers and and pinched them. he winced from the pain and looked at you with confusion all over his face.

“bad boy,” his eyes widened. “ i didn’t say you could do that.” you didn’t know why you had said that and immediately regretted it. minho was always the dominant one in your relationship, the one who called the shots, the one who called you a bad girl. and that’s why you were in complete shock when he uttered a quiet “i’m sorry.” you tried to hide your surprise the best you could and continue with your switched roles. “how will you make it up to me?” he scanned the room as if the answer was written on the walls somewhere, and apparently it was cause his eyes lit up as he quickly turned his head to look at you.

“sit on my face.”

“hmmm,” you pretended to think about it. “should i?” he quickly nodded and you chuckled at his eagerness. the thought did have you clenching so you moved up his body until your thighs were on either side of his head. his eyes sparkled as he stared at your dripping sex, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips. he looked starved and he just found the perfect meal, so he lifted his head in attempt to attach his lip to your core. he only made it so far before you yanked his head back by his hair. “once again, not asking for permission,” your whole brain chemistry was altered when he basically sobbed, a little tear sliding down the side of his face. “i should punish you,” you were loving this a little too much. “but that will have to wait.” he opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off by completely sitting on his mouth. he didn’t miss a beat before devouring, running his tongue through your folds before nipping and sucking harshly on your clit. his hands were balled up into fists and pulling away from the cuffs, his biceps flexing from the strain on his muscles. the veins on his arms were protruding and you couldn’t keep yourself from running a finger over them, tracing out the greenish blue lines. his skin was on fire, almost too hot for you to touch. almost.

you mindlessly started grinding down on his tongue, riding his face for your own pleasure. you weaved your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you, chasing after the euphoric feeling you knew only he could give you. and after a few more thrusts of his tongue and sucking hard on your clit one last time, you were coming. chest heaving and moaning his name like it’s the only thing you knew. once you came down and moved off of his face minho took a deep breath of air and only then you realized you almost suffocated the poor boy. “aww i’m sorry baby, could you not breathe?” you held the side of his face, wiping away your arousal from the corner of his mouth. he was too busy trying to catch his breath to answer you but that was fine you’d get an answer out of him.

you sank down on his cock completely without so much as a warning. “ah- baby wait- i wasn’t- fuck i wasn’t ready.”

“i don’t need your permission.” you ground yourself against him. he threw his head back against the pillows and arched his back.

“if you keep going i’m gonna come. so please… stop.” he pleaded, his voice was so quiet which was very unlike him, so you knew he was telling the truth, he was about to explode.

“you want me to stop?” you went from grinding to full on bouncy on him now.

“ahh fuck i’m coming!” his eyes screwed shut, bracing himself for quite possibly the most intense orgasm he’s ever had. only for it to be ripped away. his eyes shot open. “why’d you stop?!” he looked infuriated with you, he was so close why would you take that away from him?

“you told me to stop.” you smirked at him. “why? did you want to come? i’m so, so sorry.” you were talking to him like a baby, pouting down at him like he was a child. “well i guess we can consider that your punishment.”

“uncuff me.” he demanded. “now.”

“oh baby i’d love to.” you grinned. “ but i’m not finished with you yet.”

i’m back!!!!! did you miss me?

taglist: @bangchansbae @yumiblogs @fawnpeaks

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e-m-ma-lmfao · 2 months

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Can you write something for Sephiroth(pre-nibelheim) or Astarion? Your work is absolutely fantastic btw I’m in love with it ❤️❤️❤️

Not So Subtle

pairing : sephiroth x female!reader

summary : you have a teenage girl level crush on him, that you and zack talk (very loudly) about when you think no one can hear. but he does.

a/n : this takes place pre-nibelheim so everyone is happy and well! in honour of ff7 rebirth :)

“Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies.” You snap your jaw shut, eyes moving to glare at the young, dark haired boy who has decided to break your daydream.

“It wasn’t even open.” He plops down beside you, shoulder touching yours.

“Mhm.. and you weren’t drooling over our superior.”

“Your superior,” you correct, eyebrow lifted with pointed sarcasm. If you could stick your tongue out at him, without it seeming childish to everyone around you, you would.

“Last time I checked, you weren’t a first class soldier either,” He points out, amused. Your elbow makes contact with his arm, and his hand reaches to cover the area as he laughs.

Zack was younger than you, though he certainly never acted like there was an age gap. In his mind, you were the same age as him in some way or another. You had always trained together so you felt much closer in age even though you were at least 3 years older than him. At times, he felt like a younger brother to you.

Even more so when he found out you had a crush on the man he spent everyday training beside. Constant teasing, constant threats to spill your secrets, constant blackmail. You couldn’t even count the amount of times he had used your crush to his advantage on one hand.

There was a time you had to put your foot down and tell him no more, cause it was wrong of course. But also mostly cause you were running out of money to buy his silence.

“Yeah but I'm older, closer to his age. So I don't have to talk to him like I'm below him, unlike some people.”

“Can you even talk to him?”

“Yes.”

“Then why are you sitting here staring..?”

“He’s training..”

“Mhm.” The look on his face tells you he’s not convinced. Right now, it was the truth, Sephiroth was swinging his sword in the domed combat simulator, glass walls clear enough for you to see through. So the excuse of not being able to talk to him, out of fear of being sliced in half by his giant sword, was plausible.

But any other time that you had sat staring at him, making no effort to speak to him, rendered that excuse inapplicable.

“Shut it..” You push his shoulder with your elbow once more, and he snorts out a laugh.

“I don’t get why you can’t just talk to him..”

“Of course you don’t.. because you're obviously blind. Or you’ve been hit in the head one too many times in combat training.” You turn your gaze away from Zack to look back through the glass enclosing Sephiroth.

His hair is tied up, hanging loosely against his back. It’s a rare sight, so you indulge yourself and stare a second longer than you should. It’s so relaxed, you think, compared to the seriousness of always having it pristinely down. There are stray hairs, flyaways, falling from the hair tie and hanging against his face. It’s unkempt, a nice contrast to his seemingly perfect lifestyle.

He swings his sword with calculated grace, a grace that you (or Zack for that matter) had yet to achieve. The control he held over his blade was impeccable, it never slipped or moved from his hold even when his hands were moving faster than his body could keep up with. Just another thing that had to be perfect in his life.

“How could I ever speak to him and not make a fool out of myself? For one, he’s first class, I'd totally ruin my chances of making first class if I said something totally outrageous. And knowing me, my mind would be so jumbled, I wouldn't even realize the words had left my mouth before he put me on some kind of ‘do not promote’ list.”

“Oh so.. the only reason you won’t talk to him is because you're worried about making first class? Not.. I don’t know, maybe, the 12-year-old-girl-level crush you have on him.” Your hand slaps over his lips, eyes scanning around you. For the most part, no one looks at the two of you, and you figure the ones that are looking are doing so because of your hand covering Zacks blabbermouth.

“Would you shut it?” Even with your hand covering his mouth, he manages to laugh at your widened eyes. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes are a dead giveaway of his amusement. You remove your hand with a pointed look, one that says ‘keep it down’ in a far more subtle way than a hand over his face.

“You’re so lucky you’re younger than me.”

“More like so lucky you don’t want to make your boyfriend angry. Besides, you know I’m stronger than you.”

“Mhm..” You roll your eyes, and with a sigh, you turn back to face Sephiroth. He stands still now and you realize all of the practice dummies have been broken. From your position, he doesn't even seem to have broken a sweat, even though he’s been in there for over an hour. His sword lies on the ground, thrown without care.

Even with Zack beside you, and the silent teasing that exudes from his body, your eyes remain trained on Sephiroth. You realize it’s childish, to stare and never approach, but the idea of even standing next to him is enough to intimidate you.

He runs his hand over his back, pulling the hair tie from his hair, allowing it to fall against his shoulders once more. He turns, presumably to leave the combat simulated, and his eyes meet yours through the glass. You knew your staring wasn’t subtle, it had never been before, but you had never expected to get caught. You had never been caught.

You turn your head away so fast that Zack almost flinches, probably thinking you were going to hit him again.

“Jesus,” he looks at you with confusion, “What’s the problem?”

“He saw me.”

“What?”

“He saw me! Through the glass! He totally caught me staring at him..” You stare at Zack with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, before you head falls into your lap in shame.

“Would you relax? I guarantee he doesn’t care or he didn’t even see you. Maybe he was just looking at his reflection.”

You look back towards Sephiroth to see him leaving through the doors of the dome, and then you turn back to Zack with a pitiful whine.

“This is so pathetic…”

“I agree,” he smiles when you shoot him a glare, “Just talk to him.”

“Talk to who?” A deep voice sounds from beside you, higher up than where you sit. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stick up, and Zack's expression is enough to confirm your suspicion about who stands next to you.

You turn your head to face Sephiroth, and he stares at you expectantly. You think you catch the slightest smirk building on the corner of his lips, but you also think you might just be trying to make yourself feel better. Standing, nowhere close to his height, you hold your hands up. Zack takes this as his sign to stand too.

“Nobody! Angeal!” You fumble out words, trying to throw out a name before he grows suspicious.

“Well which is it, nobody? or Angeal?”

“Angeal. Yeah! Angeal, so.. um.. I should probably go find him.”

“It just so happens that I have to find Angeal too, allow me to join you.”

You want to throw the nearest chair at Zack, curse him for speaking so loudly. And you curse yourself for not thinking of an excuse in a reasonable time frame, so you just nod, and excuse yourself from Zack.

He gives you a pitiful smile, and when you turn to look behind you for support one last time as you walk away he gives you a thumbs up. His face contradicts his hands, and he seems like he’s in a far less teasing mood.

“Whatever you have to say to him, it must be important.”

“Hm?” You tilt your head up and to the side to look at Sephiroth, you’ve been walking together for a few minutes now, mostly silently.

“You're walking fast.” You shrug your shoulders and continue walking.

At least until your steps are interrupted by him stepping in front of you.

“Is there a problem?”

“What? Of course not!” He practically glares down at you, arms crossed over his muscular chest. You can see the outline of his defined chest muscles through the straps of his top. And you realize you're practically drooling over him, right in front of him so you force your eyes to meet his once more. But his glare is replaced by a smirk, and amusement in his eyes.

“I see now..”

“See what?”

“Really? Do you think you’re subtle?” Your face flushes and once again you want the floor to open up and consume you whole, but you're stuck here.

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” Step back, you scream at yourself, but he moves closer and it’s impossible to move your feet. They feel like lead underneath you, not even giving way to a small shuffle backwards.

“No?” His hand reaches up to rest on your cheek, it's gentle, far gentler than you would’ve expected. But the way his fingers tense against your skin has you feeling fuzzy, “You think I don’t notice the way you stare? Hm?”

He stares at you, thumb moving to the other side of your chin, holding your face in his hand. He maneuvers your face, moving it however he likes. You realize he’s examining the flush in your cheeks, the way your lips part like you want to say something. His tongue gives a humiliating click when your lips close, and the words are lost.

“I hear you, when you talk to Zack,” he stops his movement, stilling your face to look directly at him, “You’ve never been a quiet girl. Why are you so quiet now?”

When you don’t respond his eyebrows scrunch, its subtle and almost missable because it’s gone in seconds. He’s not satisfied by your silence.

Sephiroth bends his shoulders, moving closer to your face, “Although, I suppose you’ve never been very talkative around me.” He moves closer still, swerving his nose to the side of your face until he’s able to speak in your ear, “That’s not very nice. You might hurt my feelings if you keep ignoring me.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble out meekly, you're honestly not even sure it’s audible at first but he laughs quietly, breath fanning on your ear. His other hand, the one that doesn’t hold your face, reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before he pulls away. The breath that leaves your body is almost embarrassing.

“What’re you sorry for, hm?” He stares expectantly down at you, eyes never leaving yours.

“F…for ignoring you.”

“So you ignore me?”

“No!”

“So you’re lying?” You shake your head as much as you can within the hold of his fingers, “Then what are you sorry for?”

“For not talking to you.”

“And why don’t you talk to me, I'm sure you know it’s rude to stare and never speak to someone.”

“Because..” His grip loosens, hand moving back to your cheek, thumb resting on your cheek bone.

“Because why? Cmon use your voice, the one you use to talk about me with Zack.”

You stare up at him pitifully, and the way words fumble from your mouth has you wanting to throw up, “Because I have this stupid crush on you, and I can't talk to you without getting nervous. I know it’s stupid and I should have told you sooner so you could reject me and I could move on and I never meant to offend you or-”

You hadn’t realized he had gotten so close until his nose touches yours, top lip brushing against yours as he tips your chin up towards him. Your words fall flat on your tongue when you meet his eyes, or rather when you see his eyes that are focused on your lips.

“Offend me.. that’s sweet..” He’s so close to you, that every word has his lips brushing against your own again and again.

“Sephiroth..?” You suppress the urge to move the tiniest bit forward so your lips can fully meet his. And you're sure your face is impossibly red.

“You should’ve told me about this ‘stupid’ crush sooner, such a foolish girl. May I?” You're confused, what is he asking for? His eyes flicker up to yours before moving back to your lips. When you realize what he means you nod your head perhaps too eagerly.

Slowly, to tease, his lips press against yours, palm pressing into the skin of yours to keep you in place. Eyes fluttering closed, your hands find his chest, silently screaming about the position you’ve found yourself in.

His lips overpower yours in every regard, moving languidly against you. His other hand reaches up to the free side of your face, fingers tickling the skin on your neck and thumb resting on your jaw.

When he pulls away you can only look at him with half lidded eyes, dazed.

Al he does is chuckle, rubbing your cheek with his thumb and patting your head. One hand holds the back of your head, leaning down to kiss your temple, before stepping behind you, “Don’t be so shy from now on. Maybe we’ll end up here again.”

His steps echo through the empty hall as he walks away.

“Wait… wait.. I thought you had to go see Angeal?” You turn, taking one step in his direction, then stopping yourself in your tracks hesitantly.

“I didn’t. And I know you didn’t either.” He only turns his cheek towards you to speak and then continues on down the hallway, tall and brooding.

#x reader #oneshot #drabble #sephiroth x reader #sephiroth #ff7 #sephiroth ff7 #final fantasy x reader #final fantasy vii #female reader #fem reader

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jeannineee · 4 months

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JJK men...dom, sub, or switch?

(ft. Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami)

author's note: just a little drabble??? While I work on smau. might do the other boys too.

warnings: uh straight up SMUT. Too much stuff to list here.

Satoru Gojo: switch

Satoru Gojo, who is the biggest tease. He knows your body like the back of his hand--knows exactly where to touch you, what buttons to push in order to have you writhing beneath him.

"This is where you're weak, right? RIght here?"

Satoru Gojo, who will edge you to the point of tears, and then some. He's mean, really. Plump lips latched to your nipples, biting and sucking at the sensitive flesh as he curls his fingers inside you so quickly that you can't catch your breath. He can tell when you're getting close through the way your moans grow louder, the way your walls pulse around him. And just when you're about to tip over the edge, he stops completely, a wicked grin forming on his face at the sight of your pouting, cock twitching in his pants at the sound of your begging.

"Doing so good f'me, pretty. Just a bit longer, alright?"

Satoru Gojo, who is desperate and needy the moment the roles are reversed. He'll do anything to hear your praise, to feel your touch. His brain turns to mush as soon as you wrap your hand around his cock, focused solely on the pleasure you're giving him.

"F-fuck, baby, please--please don't stop, so good, so good..."

Satoru Gojo, who loves hates when you overstimulate him. He's already so sensitive, hips bucking off the mattress as you relentlessly pump his cock, his abs tensed and painted white with strings of his release. He can hardly speak, the only noises escaping him being pathetic whines and half-hearted pleas as you work him through another orgasm.

"Ohhhh, fuck, I can't, b-baby, please. I'm cumming, I'm cumming..."

Suguru Geto: dominant

Suguru Geto, who, despite his seemingly laid-back and calm nature, is the complete opposite in the bedroom. He'll manhandle you into whatever position he wants--doggy is his favorite. He'll have one hand on your waist, keeping an almost bruising grip as the other hand wraps around your hair, pulling you flush against him.

"That's it, princess. Just a pretty little slut for me, hm? Taking me so well."

Suguru Geto, who loves having you on your knees for him. Making you stick your tongue out before tapping the head of his cock against it, reveling in the way your cheeks flush with embarassment. He'll let you take the lead at first, but if you allow him, he'll fist your hair into a ponytail, and use your throat like it's his personal toy.

"Such a good girl--fuck. 'S like you were made for my cock."

Suguru Geto, who will not put up with your attitude. He's normally so patient with you, so why would you be so snippy with him? Push him too far, and he'll have you over his knee before you can blink. He'll spank you till tears are streaming down your face, and then he'll put his fingers to use until the only word you know is "sorry."

"Can't take anymore? Oh? Why are you so wet, then? I've barely even started, lovey."

Kento Nanami: dominant

Kento Nanami, who uses you to rid himself of his pent-up frustration. His favorite way to do this is by having his tongue between your legs. Him, knelt in front of you, or you sitting on his face--he doesn't care. Either way, he's hooking his hands around your thighs, and sucking on your clit until you see stars.

"Taste so good, love. Just one more for me, okay? You can do it. I can never get enough of you."

Kento Nanami, who puts his tie to work in more ways than one. Sometimes, he'll blindfold you, rough and calloused hands tracing along your body until you're pleading for him to touch you where you need it most. Other times, he'll tie your hands behind your back, or above your head, and have his way with you.

"Fuck, you're so perfect. Squeezing me so tight. Gonna fill you up, yeah?"

Kento Nanami, whose mouth is uncharacteristically filthy compared to his composure outside of the bedroom. He won't degrade you. He couldn't imagine doing that to his sweet girl. But he loves to humiliate you; loves to see the way you avoid his gaze, as though you can hide from his words.

"Soaking through your panties, and I haven't even touched you yet. Is that all it takes, sweetheart? Don't hide from me. Let me see you."

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #Satoru Gojo x reader #gojo x reader #Gojo smut #Satoru Gojo smut #Suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #Suguru geto smut #Kento Nanami x reader #Nanami x reader #Nanami smut #Kento Nanami smut #nanami headcanons #geto headcanons #gojo headcanons

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kxsalt · 7 months

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“Have fun! Stay safe!” Her roommate shouts as the front door swings closed. Bustling down the sidewalk, the girl is nervous for her date. She had a run of terrible first dates lately, and hopes that her luck is about to change.

Making it to the park where they had arranged to meet, she follows a walking path into the woods. Finally, buzzing with excitement, she spots him sitting casually on a bench. He stands up slowly as she prances to meet him.

“Hi~! Nice to meet you! My name is-“ her chipper voice is cut off by a smack across her cute face. A stunned moment of silence and he hits her again, crossing the other cheek. She recoils and he grabs her shirt collar, forcing the girl to her knees.

Snatching a fistful of her hair, the stranger takes out his cock and forces it into her mouth. She gags and twists her body, unable to escape the stronger man. He fucks her throat unceremoniously. Saliva drools down her chin as tears stream from her eyes.

Keeping his firm grip on her scalp, the man leans over and rips open her shirt. Buttons fall to the forest floor as the fabric opens, revealing her breasts. Satisfied by her exposure, he strikes her wet face again, spits on her, and rubs their mixed slobber all over. He shoves his cock back in her throat, and starts to slap her crying face while buried deep in her mouth.

She can barely breathe. Her jaw is sore. The slaps hurt more with each hit. Momentarily she thinks of the last date she went on: How he brought her to a nice restaurant, asked her questions about her life, when they had sex he was slow and gentle.

Completely unlike her current date, who had started to use her ripped shirt to tie her hands behind her back. He pulls out his cock from her warm mouth and shoves her red, crying face to the ground. Hands restrained, she struggles to keep him from pulling up her skirt. A second later her wet pussy and ass are in full view of her date.

The man crouches overtop of her and starts to fuck her pussy. He drops his hips into her, the loud smack of each thrust punctuated by a painful whine from the girl. A mouthful of spit lands on her bum, and his large hand descends between her cheeks. Her date pushes his thumb into her ass, a firm grip to pull her around as he pleases.

As he fucks the humiliated girl senseless, she screams louder and louder. She’s unable to contain herself anymore, and a long stream of gibberish runs from her freshly fucked face. Seemingly annoyed, the man becomes more aware of his surroundings. He has no qualms about exhibitionism, but would prefer to not be interrupted.

Lifting the bound girl up off the ground, he slings her over his shoulder. Holding her kicking legs against his chest, the man marches off into the woods. With the short break from the harsh fucking, her screams have softened to sobs.

Satisfied with their distance from the trail, he drops her down from his shoulder and pushes her upright against a tree, facing him. Holding her by the neck against the bark, his assault continues. Slapping her face, then her breasts, then her thighs. He repeats this while she squirms and cries. The smacks get harder with each round.

Finally, she can’t take it anymore and breaks.

“Stop! Stop hitting me, please! Use my pussy! Use my pussy to make yourself feel good! Please, stop!”

Wordlessly, he sits down on the forest floor beneath her. Leaning back, he points his erect cock up at the girl. She shudders for a moment, then obediently kneels atop the man. Her hair is stuck to her bright pink face and she closes her eyes in shame as she sits on his cock.

He lays there, watching his date rape herself on his thick cock. She dutifully bounces on the man’s dick, desperate to avoid any additional abuse. Keeping a fast pace, taking him all the way - if she doesn’t she’ll find herself in trouble again. Satisfied by the broken woman, the man relaxes and enjoys her. She does a good job, and after a while he decides to finish. Grabbing her hips, he pulls her up and down, fucking her like a doll. She yowls as she bounces, fresh tears mark her face.

“Not yet! Please! Just a little longer! I’m so close! Please! Just rape me a little more!”

Her date groans and shoots his load into her unprotected pussy. Just as soon as it started, he’s done. Tossing her off him, he stands and walks back to the path. The girl lies on the forest floor, watching her date leave. Her ripped clothes still tied around her, pussy leaking his cum, and the orgasm she was so close to fading away.

She waits in the woods while the sun goes down. Under the cover of darkness, she sneaks back home, holding the remains of her damaged clothing up against her. Thankfully, her roommate has gone out for the night and she crawls into bed without any probing questions. Naked now, she inspects her body. Bruised, used, and full of cum. She lets out a large sigh, and picks up her phone.

Opening Tumblr, she pulls up her DMs and types a message.

“Thank you for the amazing date :) I had a lot of fun!!! I would really really really like to see you again - maybe my place next time? I leave my window unlocked…”

#cnc free use #cnc k!nk #rough cnc #cnc kidnapping #abuse k1nk #r4p3b4it #r4pepl4y #r4ape kink #submisive and breedable #breeding k1nk #edging kink #kxsalt stories #kxsalt cnc #kxsalt degrade #kxsalt freeuse #kxsalt abuse #kxsalt public

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leclercstars · 5 days

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advantage, zweig.

college!art donaldson x college!patrick zweig x reader based on this request

Summary: You've been into Art for years, but after he misses out on your senior awards ceremony, your feelings completely disappear. Seeing you out with a new guy certainly didn't help Art feel any better either. Warnings: mentions of alcohol, drug usage, kissing, mentions of sex.

You had been friends with Art and Tashi since you all were in the 5th grade. Spent hours on the playground together and in each other’s backyards before tennis consumed all three of you. When you all committed to Stanford, the joint going-away party your parents threw was unforgettable for quite a few reasons.

There had never really been any romantic tension between any of you. You and Tashi always had different types, and Art was sort of a self-proclaimed fuckboy so neither of you wanted anything to do with that. At least neither of you ever let it show. You had a sort of evergreen crush on Art, that seemingly persisted through every phase of your lives. From playing spin the bottle in basements to sneaking out for real parties in high school, the silent yearning you had for his touch never fully went away. Even when you had other boyfriends, shamefully, you always caught yourself thinking of Art when you listened to playlists they had made you. So when you walked him out to his car alone after your party, both of you single, Tashi preoccupied with talking to the adults, you knew you couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Bathed in the yellowy light of the street lamp, you leaned up against his car, wearing a low-cut white mini dress that did a good job of showing off your assets. Exactly what you wanted in this moment. It was 10pm, and the summer breeze had picked up, making your nipples pique through the thin fabric of the little dress. Art slowly stepped towards you, saying nothing, the lighting making his features dark, shadowy, lustful. His hands found the curve of your waist and pinned you against the chrome car door, tongue snaking its way down your throat with a passion that you had never experienced before. You tangled your hands in his hair, never wanting to let go of him or this moment. You kissed for what felt like hours, but as soon as he pulled away you already missed the taste of his lips against yours. He rested his forehead on yours, eyes closed, thumb rubbing your cheek. And then he got in the car and drove off.

And that was it. You never spoke of that moment again. You never told Tashi. That was it. And it was eating away at you. Your insides were constantly being mauled by a hunger for the feeling of his hands on you again. It was like a drug. A moment that had happened two years ago, and you constantly wanted another hit of that feeling. You all stayed friends, and you started to wonder if Art even remembered that it happened. It became harder and harder with each passing day to just act like things were the same, even when you had boyfriends of your own. You felt awkward bringing them around Art, knowing the way you felt. You still texted him all the time, hoping every notification was one from him. He had never been able to tie down a serious girlfriend, but spent quite a bit of time going on dates, which Tashi thought was trashy. “You can’t just keep leading girls on!” she would constantly groan. Boy, if only she knew. You kept yourself distracted from your own emotions by throwing yourself into school work, knowing that would at least pay off eventually. You excitedly texted Tashi and Art when you learned you were earning a distinguished senior award, and both of them promised to come to the ceremony. Tashi showed up 10 minutes early, always eager and overly punctual. 5 minutes passed, then 10, then 20. No sign of Art. He wasn’t responding to either of your texts, and Tashi started rubbing your back, knowing how excited you were about him being there. You had all done everything together for so long, and Art was missing out on the most important moment of your college career. How could he? This man you had loved for so long suddenly exposing his true colors sent a shock throughout your entire body. It was like waking up from a deep sleep, your feelings for Art slowly dissipating into the air around you. You heard a knock on your apartment door late that night. It was Art, standing there with flowers, wearing his sweat-stained Stanford tennis t-shirt.

“I am so sorry.” “I don’t care Art,” you snapped, starting to close the door when he put his hand out to stop you, forcing himself inside. “Get out of my house,” each word dripping like venom off your tongue. “At least let me apologize, I overslept.” “You don’t get to just oversleep an important moment in my life and then expect me to act like it never happened,” you were choking back tears, not wanting to appear vulnerable in front of the man who hurt you so badly. “You’re gonna throw 10 years away for this? For one moment?” Art’s emotion was visceral, slicing through the thick tension hanging between the two of you. “I loved you Art,” you said matter of factly. “But this isn’t the only time you’ve “overslept” and no one who is wasting my time is worth any of mine.” He stood there, mouth agape. Tears welling up in the bottom of his eyes. He looked like a sad puppy, which was making it harder and harder for you to remain stone faced.

“What?” he said softly, voice quivering. “Get out, Art.” you choked. You couldn’t do this right now, just wanting to push him out of your apartment and out of your life. He threw the flowers on the table and left, slamming the door behind him. The wilted flowers still sat there two weeks later when you were bringing Patrick through the door, drunkenly stumbling with him to your bedroom. Tashi had set the two of you up after you spent hours crying to her about Art. “You can’t spend the rest of your life buried in a pint of ice cream,” she said. Obviously, it went well, as you watched him slip the condom out of his wallet before you shut your bedroom door.

Things were far from serious between you and Patrick. You couldn’t stand the thought of experiencing real emotion for anyone at the moment. Patrick was fun, he was sexy. He loved going out and he was always happy to provide you with drunk cigs. Patrick showed up right at the perfect moment on Friday night. You were already drunk and all that tequila had gone straight to your clit. It was like he had a magnetic field around him, pulling you closer and closer with each passing minute. You met on the dance floor, your ass finding his crotch pretty easily as he pulled you in, the bumping techno song intoxicating you even more on him.

“Oh hey that guy over there sits next to me in class!” Patrick waved and grinned before getting back to feeling you up. It was Art. Standing at the edge of the dance floor, watching you bump and grind with a guy who he thought was a random classmate. Your phone pinged and you sneakily pulled it out to read the text. It was from Art.

“I’m pretty sure he does coke.” You rolled your eyes and glared at him.

“I don’t really care Art.”

“I’d be a much better dance partner.” he shot back

Your stomach fluttered a bit at that, but you suppressed it. Remembering why you had distanced yourself from Art in the first place. “Let’s get out of here” you whispered to Patrick.

The two of you waded through the crowd, hand-in-hand, and you were sure to choose a path that led you directly by Art. You walked past without glancing at him. Once you reached the door, you saw him standing there still, watching, mouth drawn in a tight line, brows furrowed.

You had never felt so satisfied.

dividers by @.cafekitsune

tags: @fangirlinc @nuhteyam

#challengers #challengers movie #challengers fic #art donaldson x patrick zweig x reader #challengers throuple #art donaldson smut #patrick zweig smut #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fic #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x art donaldson #patrick zweig imagine #patrick zweig x reader #challengers x reader

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hannieehaee · 6 months

Text

18+ / mdi

content: toxicbf!seungcheol, more like possessivebf!seungcheol honestly, he's kinda a dick but not THAT much, jealousy, possessive behavior, afab reader, reader mentioned to be shorter than him, smut, penetrative sex, public sex, oral (m receiving), etc.

wc: 2201

a/n: tysm to the person who requested this <3 i didn't make him super toxic but more possessive and annoying.

masterlist

"shit, baby. you look so good. any plans tonight?" seungcheol hugged you from behind as you stared into the mirror, doing the finishing touches on your hair.

'"what do you mean if i have plans? we're going out. to the monthly meeting with the guys, remember? seokmin's girlfriend said she's coming too"

"hmm? since when? wait, hold on. you're wearing that to dinner with the boys?"

you groaned against him, "you literally just said i looked good. what's the problem?", you already kind of had an idea, but wanted to confirm for some dumb reason.

"yeah, that's when i thought you were going out with the girls or something. do you have to dress like this when you hang out with the guys?"

you knew cheol was a bit on the ... possessive side. he would sometimes be a little too jealous when it came to you being around the guys too much (around any guy, really). despite always confirming to him that you would never look at any of them as more than friends, he would still keep his guard up. it was endearing at times, seeing as it was usually just lighthearted jealousy, but he was doing a really good job at pissing you off right now.

you turned around, now facing him directly, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"baby, cmon! they're guys! and you're ... well, you're you!"

"did you want me to repeat myself or are you actually gonna explain what that's supposed to mean now?"

"listen. you're so beautiful. i had no chance at resisting you when we first met. imagine if i'd met you while you were wearing a tiny little black dress. i would've lost my mind. they're men, baby. they're weak-minded. i dont wanna let them even see you like this." despite the stupid neanderthal logic he was feeding you with, his reasoning gave you a slight ego-boost, dissipating your annoyance a bit.

you approached him, grabbing onto the collar of his shirt as you adjusted his tie - today's theme for the monthly meeting had been strictly formal, courtesy of a hong jisoo – and stared into his eyes, flirtatious smile gracing your lips.

"cheollie ... the dress code's formal. and i know how strict you guys are about that. if you can wear those stupid leather pants on stage while performing for carats, – who, by the way, do wanna fuck you – i can wear a tiny little dress around my very platonic friends."

you were pretty sure seungcheol had tuned you out already, at least judging from how distracted his hands had become now that they were kneading your ass under the short skirt of the dress. in any other circumstances you would've entertained him, maybe even let him fuck you before leaving home, but you weren't about to reward his stupid comments from earlier with sex. separating yourself from him, you chided at him, telling him to get ready, because you'd be leaving together; with no need to change your clothes.

upon arriving to the restaurant of choice - an entirely rented out luxury restaurant joshua had seemingly been eyeing for a while - you and a sulky seungcheol (he had brought up the dress issue again in the car) quickly spotted a table full of people. it was all twelve members of seventeen, plus joshua's and seokmin's girlfriends, who would also be making their debut appearance at the monthly dinner. as expected, the boys were all wearing suit and tie, while the girls had dresses on. you had to admit, maybe yours was a bit more provocative, but you felt comfortable since you would only be around close friends.

the moment they spotted you walking in, jeonghan took the liberty of standing up, looking you up and down before smirking and giving you a quick hug, even going as far as pulling out a chair for you to sit. you appreciated the gesture, taking a seat and thanking him, completely ignoring seungcheol's annoyed grumble along the lines of 'i'm supposed to do that'.

the dinner went pretty okay after that, with one or two complimentary comments directed at your apparel. you'd also noticed a few of the boys staring a bit more than usual, but you'd dressed up, after all, so it wasn't very surprising to you. seungcheol, on the other hand, grew more and more annoyed every time a member directed themselves to you, even if it was with innocent intentions. he had built an idea in his head that everyone mustve wanted you the way that he wanted you. it also didn't help that you were sitting right by jeonghan and mingyu, members who were renown for being a bit flirtier than the rest. you knew it was just in their nature, and completely meaningless when directed towards you, but you could feel your boyfriend's fumes increase next to you as the night went on.

after a while seungcheol had begun to speak over you, acting as if you couldn't respond or interact with his members on your own. he was beginning to show his annoyingly possessive side, acting overly overprotective over you, almost as if you were a prize to keep under lock and key.

there were only a few instances in which he did this. he could sometimes act like a dick about it, wanting to show the rest of the guys how you were his and no one else's

then came what broke the camel's back. yoon jeonghan must've sensed some tension in seuncheol's behavior, adding two and two and figuring out that his possessive friend must've been feeling some type of way at any attention headed your way. so, he decided to have fun with it, amping up his flirting.

"shit, have i told you how beautiful you look tonight?," he smirked, eyeing his friend a bit as he complimented you.

"yeah, but maybe don't say that to my girlfriend, yeah?", interjected your stupid boyfriend, hand on your thigh as he attempted to show possession over you.

you ignored him, "oh, thanks hannie. you look really handsome too."

he puffed, as if out of breath, also ignoring cheol's comment, "no, but really. that dress is ... man, all i know is if i were seungcheol we wouldn't have even left the house tonight," the smirk wouldn't leave his face, knowing he was poking a bear.

those two simple comments were enough to get seungcheol to snap, loudly getting up and interrupting any other conversation going on at the table. without any other word, he completely ignored any questioning stares or inquiring comments and grabbed your hand, dragging you from your own chair and pulling you away from the room and into a more secluded area of the almost-empty restaurant.

"seungcheol what the hell are you doing?!"

he turned to you, now letting go of the hand he'd been pulling, "i told you not to wear that around them! do you think i enjoyed that?!"

"it's just jeonghan, cheol! he doesn't mean anything by it. he was just trying to tease you."

"i dont care about that! you're mine. you're not supposed to show yourself off like this to other men!" the fact he didn't see issue with what he was saying was peeving you off, making you scoff at him before he continued.

"you're mine, okay? and you responding to han's flirting is not helping me get that point across to them."

"you-"

"no, let me finish," he moved closer to you the more he spoke, eventually having you pinned against the wall of the restaurant, looking down on you, "i won't have any of them even think they have a chance with you. no one does. you're mine. is that understood?" by now his lips were just a hair away from your ear, heavy breath fanning against you as his hands slid onto your waist, pulling you against him, dick already semi-hard under his slacks.

you hated the way he was talking to you. kind of. an embarrassing part of yourself was keening on his possessiveness, enjoying how he felt as if he had to stake claim over you. as if even one look from another man had him having to show the world you were his and his alone.

when he unglued his lips from your ear and went back to staring down at you, eyes flicking down to your lips, neither of you could help yourselves anymore. you might've kissed him first, but it was probably him who crashed his lips into you first, almost swallowing you whole as he attacked you by shoving his tongue in your mouth.

he became intense with his movements pretty quickly, unbuttoning his pants with one hand while the other harshly felt you up. he disconnected his hand from you for a moment in order to pull down his pants and knead at his cock for a few moments, getting himself ready for you.

he disconnected your lips, chuckling at the way yours chased after his, "get on your knees."

with zero type of dignity, you got on your knees with no question, beginning to slide your hand up and down his dick before wrapping your mouth around his tip and sucking, giving him eyes as you did so.

he groaned at the sight, but quickly recovered, barking out a command for you to be a well-behaved girl and take it all in your mouth. you followed instruction pretty quickly, loving the weight of his cock in your mouth.

"that's it ... knew you could be a good girl after all."

"fuck ... that mouth is all mine, right baby? only for me to choke on my cock .."

"take it deeper, i know you can. trained that pretty mouth to take me."

his words were getting you wetter by the second, moaning mindlessly against his dick as he began to thrust into your mouth, groaning out even more expletives.

he suddenly pulled you away without allowing you to suck him into completion, once more slamming your back against the wall and shoving his tongue in your mouth. you both groaned at the feeling of his taste in your tongue, eventually making the kiss become a mess of wet tongues just licking at one another while he ground his hard dick against you.

you cried against him after a while of dry humping, feeling the heat of his cock so close to where you wanted him, but your mind being too empty for you to even beg for him to put it inside you.

he pulled away, "are you gonna be good and let me have that pretty pussy? my pretty pussy?"

all you could do was nod and whine against him as he pulled your panties aside, only having to lift your dress a tiny bit to give him room to enter your warm walls. you both sighed out in pleasure the moment he entered you, with cheol quickly finding a rhythm that had you throwing your head back against the wall, not caring for any pain you felt at the impact.

"you're mine. do you understand that? no one else can have you. can't even look at you. tell me you understand." he paused for a moment, smirking as he knew you had no way to respond with the pace in which he was slamming himself against you, "what? no answer? baby, what'd i tell you about being a good girl?" he was mocking you now, relishing on the effect he had on you.

"c-cheollie ... y-yours! just yours! won't ev-ever look their way again. pro- ah! promise!" you did the best you could to muster out an answer, being too high on pleasure from the way his cock was repeatedly hitting against you, impaling you completely.

your emotions were already very heightened, causing the two of you to be quick to reach your ends.

"gonna fill you up, okay baby? and you're gonna keep it all in, or else imma have to take you home and do it all over again, yeah?" he groaned out, knowing he was about to blow his load any second now.

"y-yes! fill me up, please!"

a few thrusts later and he was burying his head in the crook of your neck, groaning out at the feeling of your walls tightening against him as you came.

you attempted to catch your breath as seungcheol used his fingers to push in any cum that exited your hole, moving your panties back into place to try and retain the most he could. with no warning, he shoved those same fingers in your mouth, making you suck his essence from them as he groaned at the sight.

"c'mon," he gave you no time to catch your breath or recover before dragging you by the hand once more, walking back to the table to pick up your coats.

"i'm taking her home now. yoon jeonghan, i'll deal with you later," and with that he dragged you away, making no effort to hide your disheveled state as you limped behind him, beyond embarrassed all your friends knew what you and your boyfriend had been up to.

if cheol had wanted to make a public service announcement about how much you were his, he had achieved it.

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slytherinslut0 · 7 months

Text

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

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

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Blackmail, Degradation Kink, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Manipulation, Angst, Violence, Aggression, Blood, TomRiddle, Slapping.

***FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

"Emily, are you sure I look okay?" You said, your voice a mix of stress and anxiety. "Did you get my baby hairs? The ones in the-"

"Yes, I got them." Emily said, cutting you off as she took a few steps back, focusing her attention on your uniform now. "You look perfect. Beyond perfect."

In the soft glow of your dormitory's lamplight, you moved toward the mirror, your reflection illuminated with a warm, golden hue. You released a long, tension filled breath as you eyed your appearance, your Ravenclaw uniform clinging to your form with tailored precision, the royal blue fabric complementing your complexion and accentuating your confidence. The pleats of your skirt fell in perfect symmetry, and your tie was knotted with care, each fold a testament to your attention to detail.

As you met your own eyes in the mirror, your irises sparkled with determination and purpose. Your makeup, subtle yet enhancing, highlighted your features without overshadowing your natural beauty. With a final, approving nod at your reflection, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the meeting ahead. You wanted to make sure that every element of your appearance spoke volumes about your professionalism and attention to detail. Confident and composed, you spun back around, meeting your blonde-haired friend with a subtle smile.

"Emily, I can't express my gratitude enough," you sighed, your voice tinged with a mix of appreciation and unease. "I can't fathom why I'm so terribly nervous about this."

"It's Tom bloody Riddle; anyone would be nervous," Emily replied, her tone holding a touch of amusement as she lounged on her bed, her eyes fixed on you. "You know, he could be really good for you."

Your breath caught in your throat, and your eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I'm just saying," she continued, sensing the growing tension in the room. "It's astonishing how you've spent seven years at Hogwarts without really getting to know him. You and he, you're like kindred spirits--both quiet, effortlessly brilliant...I could see you two hitting it off."

You felt a shiver race down your spine at the very idea, yet you quickly dismissed it with a forced, light-hearted chuckle. "Now, that's quite a leap, my friend."

"Make sure to remind me of my prediction when it comes true," she teased, a smirk dancing on her lips as she stifled her giggles. "Off you go now, don't keep Tom Riddle waiting.”

With a grumble of a goodbye, you took a steadying breath before pushing open the door of your dorm room and entering out into the bustling corridor. The familiar buzz of students filled the air, everyone seemingly lost in their own little world as you briskly made your way down to the library, your stride full of a tense determination. As you finally entered, your eyes scanned the room in search of Tom, and when you spotted him--engrossed in books, his demeanour calm and composed at a table in the far corner; your heart rate involuntarily increased.

But then, you spotted movement out of the corner of your eye--and when you shifted your gaze toward it, your pulse plummeted, heart stopping dead in your chest.

Mattheo Riddle, the man who, in his entire seven years at this school, had ventured into the library fewer times than he could count on one fucking hand--was surrounded by his friends on the far couches, a bright-eyed brunette girl seated dangerously close, her eyes glued to him as if he held the universe in his hands. The scene sent a jolt of conflicting emotions through you--creating a visceral reaction that made you want to retch.

You blinked, unable to believe your eyes, witnessing the source of both your irritation and inexplicable attraction, appearing utterly untroubled amidst his social circle. The sight should have been inconsequential--a mere blip on your radar, considering your vehement dislike for him and everything he's put you through.

Yet, as he met your eyes from across the room, that familiar, breath-stealing, devilish smirk teasing the corners of his perfect fucking lips, it felt like a punch to the gut, a twisting turmoil in your chest that you couldn't quite comprehend.

You knew you shouldn't care about who he was with or what he was doing. After all, you despised him, his arrogance, and the way he seemed to effortlessly entangle you in his web. But the inexplicable pang of jealousy clawed at your insides, leaving you both irritated with yourself and unsettled by the intensity of your emotions.

Trying to shake off the feeling, you clenched your fists, reminding yourself of your purpose here--to meet with Tom Riddle and discuss the mentorship guild. Despite your internal turmoil, you focused on the task at hand, determined to ignore the distractions and maintain your composure, and began to make your way across the room toward Tom.

Straightening your posture, you took a deep breath to steady your nerves. As you approached him, you cleared your throat to announce your presence.

"Mr. Riddle," you greeted, your voice steady despite the chaos inside you. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I've heard great things about the mentorship guild, it's been a longtime goal of mine to be a part of it."

Tom's eyes, a sharp contrast to his brother's, held a depth of intellect that seemed to penetrate your very soul. His appearance was the polar opposite of Mattheo's--clean kept, professional; gelled hair and fresh robes--all attributes you'd never find on his messy haired, couldn't-care-less sibling. Tom regarded you with an assessing gaze, nodding appreciatively.

"I'm pleased you're interested," he replied, his voice smooth and composed. "Let's find a quiet spot to talk, and please, call me Tom."

With those words, you gave him a small smile before following him through the isles of shelves and towards the back of the room, reserved only for quiet studies, leaving the unsettling sight of Mattheo and his entourage behind, unable to ignore the heat of his eyes on you from across the room as you moved. In the hushed confines of the library's quiet study area, you settled into a seat across from Tom, the anticipation of the conversation ahead mingling with a sense of relief.

Away from the prying eyes and distracting presence of Mattheo, you felt a newfound confidence building within you.

"Thank you again for considering me, Tom, you have no idea what this opportunity means to me," you said, your voice steady as you met Tom's gaze. "I've always admired your achievements and your approach to academics. I believe I can learn a great deal under your guidance."

His eyes, a captivating shade of deep brown, held yours in an unwavering gaze. "Please, the pleasure is all mine," he replied, his tone dipped in charm. "I've heard remarkable things about your intellect and dedication, Dumbledore spoke very highly of you. I anticipate our collaboration to be mutually beneficial…I have high hopes for what you can achieve."

Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, and you offered a grateful smile. Encouraged by his words, you felt a surge of motivation. "I'm eager to contribute in any way I can."

Tom's eyes glinted with approval. "That's precisely the attitude we value. With your potential and determination, I have no doubt you'll find your place within our guild."

As the conversation progressed, you found yourself immersed in discussions about your academic aspirations, the guild's objectives, and the various projects they were involved in. With every word, you felt a sense of belonging, as if you had finally found a community where your intellect was not only recognized but celebrated.

As you observed Tom while he spoke, it was clear that he was someone you could relate to on a profound level. Like you, he poured his heart and soul into his studies, the pursuit of knowledge a shared passion. His quiet confidence mirrored your own determination, and his dedication to academic pursuits resonated deeply with your own values.

In Tom, you discovered a like-minded soul, someone who, like you, appreciated the sanctity of the library's quietude and the solace found in the pages of a well-worn book. While Mattheo's antics might overshadow his brother's achievements, you recognized Tom's brilliance as a beacon of inspiration, a reminder that there were others in Hogwarts who shared your unwavering dedication to intellectual pursuits.

As the discussions came to a close, Tom straightened his posture in his chair, adjusting his pristine Slytherin robes.

"It's truly refreshing to meet someone as passionate and driven as you," Tom said, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "I believe you have a lot to offer, and I truly look forward to seeing your potential unfold."

You offered a grateful smile, though his lingering gaze left a trail of warmth beneath your skin. "Thank you, Tom. I'm admittedly quite antsy to prove my dedication."

With a charming smile, Tom leaned over the table toward you slightly, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

"I must admit, I'm not only intrigued by your dedication to intellect," he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "There's something else...something undeniably alluring about you."

"Is that so?" You murmured, head tilting.

His words sparked something inside you that made your pulse increase. You weren't sure what the fuck you were doing right now, but admittedly, you couldn't help yourself. If the Riddle brothers had anything in common outside of their devastating good-looks, it was their effortless bloody charm.

"Indeed, it is," he matched your playful tone, a sly grin playing on his lips. "I'd relish the opportunity to delve deeper into your thoughts...outside of the Thursday evening guild meetings, of course," he said, his eyes glinting with intellectual curiosity. "How about we make it a habit, meeting one-on-one regularly? Tuesday evenings sound splendid, don't you think?"

Internally, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions stirred within you. The idea of regular one-on-one meetings with Tom was undeniably enticing, and would do wonders for your reputation, yet the fear of Mattheo's reaction held you back. As you hesitated, an unsettling vision of Mattheo's disapproving expression flashed in your mind, causing your response to stall.

"I...I appreciate the offer, Tom," you finally managed to say, your voice slightly shaky. "Tuesday evenings should work. I look forward to our discussions."

Your response came out a bit stilted, your internal turmoil seeping into your words, and Tom, ever perceptive, noted your apprehension with a slight eyebrow raise, but clearly chose to dismiss it.

"Wonderful. I look forward to it as well." He said, pushing up from the table and shooting you one last professional nod, "enjoy the rest of your night."

You smiled. "You too, Tom. Thank you.”

And with that, he spun, making his way down the dimly lit isle of the library, your gaze fixated on him until he was entirely out of sight. And once he was, you slumped back in your chair, releasing a stifled breath, acknowledging that his flirtation added a new layer of complexity to the already intricate web of your emotions--but, considering the fact that Mattheo was nothing more than selfish asshole who was currently cuddled up with another girl at this very moment, you refused to wallow in the thought of him any further.

You pushed up from your seat and delved deeper into the library's hushed corridors--the muted ambiance and the scent of old parchment surrounding you as you moved. With purposeful steps, you maneuvered through the labyrinth of bookshelves, gliding down the dim aisle of your choice, your eyes scanning the titles, seeking the specific astronomy book essential for your upcoming exam.

Finally, you came to a halt in front of the S category, your fingers gently tracing the spines as you read their titles, lost in the tranquility of the moment when out of nowhere, a vice-like grip clamped over your mouth, stifling any sound, and you were forcibly pulled backward--your body colliding with a strong, powerful chest, the abrupt impact momentarily jarring your senses.

As the initial shock faded, and the lingering smell of cigarettes and firewhiskey filled your nostrils, calloused palm tightening its hold over your lips, you knew there was only one fucking man that this could be. Mattheo Riddle's unyielding hand muffled any protest, and the fingers on his free hand dug into the wooden shelf beside your head, his silent strength radiating a chilling intensity that left you frozen in fear.

"Playing with fire, aren't you, Raven?" His hot breath danced on your ear as he whispered, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "You know, playing too many little games might get you in trouble, princess..."

Pinned against the shelf, your fingers clung desperately to its edge, seeking stability as your body pressed firmly against the unforgiving wood. Mattheo's presence enveloped you, a low growl escaping him as he tugged your face to the side, pressing your temple against the row of books, his lips grazing your ear--holding you captive like a fragile little bird, ensnared in the coils of the big bad serpent.

"Tuesday nights, huh?" His voice was deeper than you'd ever heard it, your heart pounding in your throat as you realized he'd must have heard your conversation with Tom--and clearly, wasn't very happy about it. "I knew you'd fall for his fucking bullshit, Raven...you seem to have a knack for falling into traps, don't you?"

Rage coursed through your veins, a primal growl building up in your throat as you pressed against his restraining hand, your thoughts ablaze with a multitude of scathing comebacks. The fervent desire to unleash your fury clashed with the harsh reality that he had more to say, leaving you seething in silence.

"You're delusional if you think he's actually fucking interested in you..." he breathed, pressing his lips directly to your ear now. "You're just his new prey...his new little protégé...take you in and make you feel special, just to discard you once he's done with you..."

A chill crawled down your spine, settling in the pit of your stomach like a lead weight. His words stung, and you struggled against his grip, his fingers digging into your skin, reminiscent of a snake coiling around its prey. Despite your attempts to break free, his hold tightened like a serpent constricting its victim, leaving you feeling trapped and vulnerable--involuntarily eliciting a sensation between your thighs you wished to ignore.

"Maybe that's what you want though, huh?" He taunted, voice dripping with disdain. "Maybe I've already ruined you...maybe you like being a little slut so much now that you're willing to throw yourself at anyone who offers..."

Your groan of frustration mingled with a futile attempt to break free, but his grip on your mouth remained unyielding. The hand that had been braced against the shelf now shifted to your hip, anchoring you firmly in place, his touch possessive, commanding--sending shivers down your spine, even in the face of his despicable words. The sheer force of his hold had an intoxicating allure, leaving you trapped in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, unable to fully resist despite your burning anger.

"Do you want to fuck him, Raven?" His voice tightened, twisting your head back further to meet his eyes, the painful angle making you wince, your lids fluttering shut as a result. "No, no. Open those eyes. Look at me."

Your stomach churned with unease, and you reluctantly complied, his fingernails digging into your cheek as he forced you to meet his dark, possessed gaze, the smell of alcohol radiating off his breath.

You swallowed. It was a bloody Thursday--why was he drunk on a fucking Thursday?

"Is that what you want?" He muttered, his voice softening, though his grip remained firm. "Because he's going to try...believe me, he's going to fucking try."

In the vice-like grip of his fingers, you growled low, a surge of irritation coursing through your veins like molten lava. How dare he presume to control your actions, as if he held any genuine concern for your well-being? His selfish motives were as transparent as glass, his only interest lying in your submission to his sexual desires. Meanwhile, he shamelessly paraded his affections for other girls, a cruel reminder of his callousness. There was no way you would yield to his manipulative tactics, your determination burning brighter than ever amidst the storm of his toxic influence.

And with a surge of sheer madness, you bared your teeth beneath his palm, sinking them into his rough flesh with a viciousness that mirrored the intensity of your anger, determined to inflict any pain you could in your struggle for freedom--and as your teeth dug into his skin, he recoiled, a sharp hiss escaping his lips as you tried your hardest to draw blood.

His grip momentarily loosened, allowing you a gasp of precious air before he tightened his hold once more--his eyes, ablaze with a mix of fury and surprise, bore into yours, capturing your defiance and turning it into a challenge. With brutal force, he spun you around, your back colliding with the unforgiving shelf; the impact sending shivers of pain racing through your spine, and the back of your head met the harsh wood with a sickening thud--your vision momentarily blurring, your heartbeat echoing in your ears like a war drum, punctuating the silence of the library with the harsh reminder of your vulnerability in his grip.

Your eyelids flickered, blinking rapidly to clear the haze, unveiling his intoxicated form, a menacing silhouette against the dim light. His eyes, blacker than the midnight sky, bore into your face with predatory focus, dissecting every flicker of emotion that crossed your features. Your eyes widened in sheer shock, somehow just now fixating on the new cut over his nose, dried blood trickling down from his nostrils and staining his chin, throat and uniform like macabre tears.

"Yeah, that's right..." he muttered, grin crawling over his lips, "take a good fucking look, princess."

Trapped beneath his unrelenting palm, you pleaded, your voice barely audible amidst the fear that gripped your throat. Desperately, you tried to shake your head, your eyes widening in horror as the sinking, sickening sensation in your chest deepened.

Your heart raced with dread, praying vehemently that the blood staining him had nothing to do with Tom.

"I warned you," he sneered, his head tilting as he leaned closer, his palm pressing your head back against the shelf with savage force, as if he was anticipating your impending reaction. "I told you exactly what I'd do to him if he fucking tried anything..."

Your heart fell, shattered, and scattered into a million shards on the cold library floor. Anguish surged through you, transforming into a fierce, unyielding determination, and without hesitation, your hand left your side, a trembling force of defiance as it harshly connected with his cheek--sending his face whipping to the side, his messy hair bouncing against his forehead with the impact.

The sharp sound reverberated through the silence of the library, and his grip on your lips faltered just enough to allow you to break free. Before he had a chance to do anything else, you gripped his wrist, holding it in place, your chest heaving with the weight of your emotions.

Your voice trembled with a mix of disbelief and anger, words escaping your lips in a choked whisper. "I can't...I can't fucking believe you," you stammered, your heart pounding in your chest like a frantic drum. "Mattheo, do you even realize what you've done?"

He blinked, his cheek tinged with a rosy hue from the impact of your slap. "Do you?"

"What the fuck do you mean?" Your lungs seized, anger threatening to collapse them. "How the fuck am I supposed to explain why you fought your own brother over me? How the fuck am I going to justify that in any way? We aren't supposed to...we aren't-"

Your words cut through the air, heavy with incredulity and a profound sense of betrayal. The weight of the situation pressed down on you, leaving you at a loss for words as you struggled to comprehend the tangled mess he had created.

"He doesn't know it was over you," he muttered, ripping his wrist from your hold. "It's not the first time I've fought my brother, Raven."

"Oh, so it's just one big coincidence that you suddenly pick a fight with him after he meets with the girl who's been tutoring you one-on-one for the last few months, right Mattheo?" You snapped, your words laced with bitterness and frustration, the tension between you hanging in the air like a storm waiting to unleash its fury. "Do you understand that if anyone fucking finds out about us...literally anyone...my post graduate career is fucking ruined, and all of this has been for absolutely nothing? Do you understand how many rules I've broken, how much I've risked, just to allow you to use me however you’d like? And this is how you repay me?"

With a sudden movement, you brought a hand to his chin--your fingernails biting into the skin of his jaw, the sharp edges of your frustration cutting into him as you held him firmly in place. The intensity of your grip mirrored the storm brewing inside you, the forceful pressure a physical manifestation of your raging emotions.

"You have absolutely no fucking right interfering in on my life like this...not while you're cuddled up with another girl on the couch...not when you've made it clear as day that I'm your fucking toy and nothing more." You seethed, your voice cutting through the air like a knife. "You have no right to paint him as though he's some demon when you haven't once dared to look at your own fucking reflection."

Mattheo's eyes met yours, his usual confidence flickering for just a moment as the weight of your accusation settled upon him. "You have no idea what he's like...you can't-"

"I know what you're like." You hissed, dropping your hand from his jaw. "And not many can be worse than you."

"That's where you're wrong." He retorted, spitting the words through barred teeth. "That's where you're absolutely fucking wrong."

"Admit it, right now, Mattheo." You snarled, words like venom as you spat them off your tongue. "Admit that I'm nothing but your fucking toy, nothing but a naive little slut for you to manipulate...admit that I'm-"

Your words hung in the air, abruptly silenced as Mattheo's vice-like grip clamped onto your jaw, the intensity of his hold promising to leave marks on your skin. He pressed your head back against the shelf, your body stiffening in response to his overpowering force. The heat radiating from his frame enveloped you, intensifying the sense of confinement as his free hand slammed onto the shelf beside your head, adding to the mockery of your helplessness.

"No," he growled, his voice low and intense, the frustration palpable in the air. His grip on your jaw tightened, his fingers digging into your skin, and you winced, the pain jolting through you. "You're fucking not."

"Bullshit," you hissed back, your defiance flaring despite the pressure of his hold.

His eyes narrowed, his gaze locked onto yours with a fiery determination. "If you were just some conquest, just some notch on my bedpost, why the fuck wouldn't I have fucked you already, huh?" His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, the intensity making your stomach twist in knots. "I've had countless chances, Raven...and Merlin knows I fucking want to."

Your voice trembled, the vulnerability seeping through your words like a crack in a dam holding back a tidal wave of emotions. "Want...to...what?"

"Fuck you," he admitted, his grip on your jaw loosening, his confession dripping with both desire and frustration. "I want to fucking rail you, Raven, what the fuck else would I be talking about?"

"But?" you whispered, your voice barely audible, your heart pounding in your chest, desperate for an answer you already fucking knew. "What's stopping you?"

He exhaled, his jaw tensing. "You're a fucking virgin...I've never...I wouldn't feel right if I-"

"Exactly my fucking point," you said, cutting him off, your words slicing through the tension between you. "It wouldn't feel right because I'm just a fucking toy, Mattheo...I'm just a means for you to get your release and then throw away when you're done, what you said just fucking confirms it..please don't stand here and try to pretend otherwise..."

The truth hung in the air, heavy and raw, the silence that followed echoing with the weight of your unspoken feelings, leaving both of you engulfed in a suffocating sense of reality.

"You said you had no interest in taking my virginity." You whispered, reluctantly meeting his eyes. "You fucking said that, before any of this started."

"I know," his throat bobbed as he swallowed. "I know what I fucking said.”

"So, let me get this straight." You spat, eyebrow cocked. "You want me to continue being your toy, breaking every rule in the book in exchange for your tutoring cooperation and improved grades in order to help me impress Dumbledore, while you continue to be with other girls, but get controlling and fucking crazy when your own brother comes near me, even though you know we could never be together and you have zero intentions of making that happen away...yeah?"

As he blinked, remaining silent, you huffed, releasing a frustrated breath. "Can you at least do me one little fucking favour and explain that hypocrisy to me, Riddle? Or-"

Cutting you off, Mattheo's fingers gripped your jaw for what had to be the hundredth time in ten minutes, pulling you into a kiss that felt like an explosion of chaos and passion--the taste of blood, firewhiskey, and the lingering scent of cigarettes filling your senses; a potent mix that somehow pulled a low moan from your throat. His tongue brushed past your lips, exploring your mouth with a fervor that left you breathless, your entire body reeling from the raw desperation in his touch. The world around you faded into oblivion as his hands slid into your hair, anchoring you to him, pressing you against the shelf with an irresistible force, neither of you willing to separate despite your urgent need for breath.

After what felt like an eternity, Mattheo's lips reluctantly left yours, trailing a path of fire down to your jawline. His hot breath, laced with the taste of whiskey and desire, washed over your skin as he panted, and the room seemed to pulse with the aftermath of the passionate exchange. The two of you stood there, heaving, as if trying to fill your lungs with enough air to regain composure--the intensity of the moment lingering, leaving you both breathless and yearning for more, even though you both knew it was a stupid, idiotic, dangerous game you were playing.

"How is it, that the one woman I can never get enough of, is the one I can't have..." he whispered, his voice so low you swore there was no fucking way you heard him correctly. "When I think about it, I guess it's a fitting punishment, for a monster like me..." his hands fell to your hips, softly holding you against him. "To hold something in my hands and know beyond a bloody fucking doubt that I'll never deserve it."

Your lungs stalled, your heart stopped, oxygen fleeing you as though it was running from a fucking fire. He took a step back, releasing you fully.

"You're right, I had no right doing what I did." The words slammed your chest like a fifty pound brick. You couldn’t do anything except blink. "But I couldn't control myself, and it's not your fault, it's mine. I can’t get over myself. Just be my tutor, and let’s forget anything ever happened between us…I hope my brother makes you fucking happy.”

Without giving you a chance to respond he shifted, making his way down the isle and disappearing around the corner before you even had a singular chance to decipher what the fuck had just happened.

————-

Chapter Seven->

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goodgirlofglory · 1 year

Note

Now that I know your requests are open, BE READY TO RECEIVE SOME TOE CURLING ASKS!!!

Like for example, I’m desperate for overstimulated Bucky 😩 like we all know Bucky can’t get enough of his girl, to the point where she’s gone dumb, but there’s something about tying up a big strong metal armed super soldier and making him cum over and over and over while he’s begging (he doesn’t know what he’s begging for, you to continue or stop like ✋)

Emphasis on the tying him up and sucking his soul out of his body, with your own body.

But you know, this was just a suggestion 🫶🫶keep up the great work!! 🌸🌸🌸🌸

Girl🥵

That is so fucking hot i can’t even, got me like😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫🫠🫠🫠✋️✋️✋️💦💦💦

Okay so I immediately sat down and started writing after reading this. Overstim is honestly one of my favorite things. Let's hope i did it justice🙏🙏🙏

Big boy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 2,3k

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral (f and m recieving), handjob, slightly severe overstimulation, messy creampie, messy, filthy fluids everywhere, bondage, slight d/s vibes(with sweet, subby, needy Bucky), p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk

Summary: see the lovely prompt above💗

Note: the gif is cocky Bucky before he knew what he’d gotten himself into😏

“Keep your eyes on it,” you said, your voice drifting in through the cotton like muffle over Bucky’s hearing. He blinked the blur from his eyesight and heaved for breath, wave after wave of syrupy pleasure tinged with overexertion lining his lungs and loins like the finest lace.

Looking down his body, covered in sweat and twitching sporadically, he watched helplessly as you bent forward, sliding your pussy slowly off his cock. It made an obscenely wet noise as it slapped back onto his stomach, adding more wetness to the drenched patch of hair below his navel. From your position astride his hips facing away from him, he had an unobstructed view of the utter mess between your legs, your red and swollen pussy gaping slightly below your puckered asshole, the sight sending off small fireworks off undiluted, heady arousal in Bucky’s head.

You moaned softly and a moment later Bucky answered with a downright helpless mewl as his cum, pearly white and thick, began to drip out of your pussy. His whole body jolted, his cock jerking in a feeble attempt at rising. You knew what that exact sight did to him, how it chafed at some primal being inside him, how desperate it made him to pounce on you and pin you down, to cover you in his body and nuzzle your neck, to imprint himself on you and in you until he was ingrained in your very being.

His arms jerked, but even his vibranium arm was powerless against the restraints you’d so cleverly acquired. He’d been so cocky when you’d asked to tie him up in the bedroom, all overinflated male pride and confidence in the fact that few bindings could keep his strength leashed. He’d grown hard in his pants and happily relaxed onto his back in your bed, head rested on the mountain of soft pillows. His arrogance had turned on a dime once you seemingly out of nowhere whipped out a pair of vibranium handcuffs and proceeded to fasten his wrists to bolts drilled into the very concrete of the wall behind the bed. Bucky had only realized his mistake once you’d secured his vibranium arm and leaned back with a grin filled with so much wicked glee he’d actually gulped. A few, increasingly earnest tugs on his bonds had solidified it. He was indeed completely at your mercy. Not helping at all, his cock had grown even harder at the realization.

Now, god knew how many orgasms later, he could hear his blood pumping thick and slow in his ears, saturated with pleasure so intense and drawn out it sizzled in every nerve until the point of numbness, and watched helplessly as you elegantly turned around on the mattress and leaned forward between his legs, your eyes filled with mischief and a bratty confidence that had Bucky’s hands itching to spank your asscheeks raw.

You blew soft, cold air on his swollen shaft and he shuddered at the sensation, more overworked than he’d ever been before. He didn’t know if his cock was still hard or just so swollen from all the stimulation it couldn’t shrink back to its normal, soft state. It seemed encased in a thick layer of rubber numbing it while simultaneously feeling so rubbed raw every nerve ending was exposed. He didn’t know if he wanted more or desperately needed reprieve. Okay, maybe that was a lie. You had insisted he choose a safeword before you started, and he hadn’t once considered saying it out loud, not even now.

A choking sound forced itself from him as you bent down to kiss his shaft, making it rise up to twitch against your lips as you peppered it with light, loving kisses.

“P-please,” Bucky heard himself saying, wrists weakly tugging on his bonds.

You looked up at him with sensual, low-lidded eyes, laying your cheek on his hip and letting a finger slowly trail up and down his sensitive cock. Bucky hissed and shuddered, his reactions wildly out of proportion to the things you were doing. But he couldn’t help it, he was so sensitive.

“What are you begging so sweetly for, baby?” you asked.

Bucky didn’t know, not really. His mind was a melting blurr of sensation and pleasure, and he just knew he needed you, though he couldn’t string together his thoughts to figure out in what way.

“I…I can’t,” he huffed out between great puffs of air as your finger continued to tease and tickle his overstimulated flesh.

You tsked and pouted.

“Aw, don’t tell me you’re tapping out already, big boy?” you asked in a sickly sweet, slightly condescending tone. You wrapped your hand around his aching cock and began jerking him, moving the foreskin up and down, the glide easy and wet by the copious amount of slick mixed with his cum still covering it from the way you’d ridden two orgasms out of him in one go.

Bucky moaned, a long, drawn out, desperate thing as he watched your hand helplessly, so fucking hard and so fucking sensitive.

“I want you to give me one more,” you said, soft and slow, watching his face as your hand sped up. Bucky threw his head back and panted at the ceiling, One more? How many had he already given you? Four? Five? He didn’t even know he could cum so much consecutively, but surely he couldn’t come any more now?

Bucky groaned at the ceiling as his body warred between exhaustion and the tension you were slowly and meticulously building in him despite everything, how a tingling sensation began growing in his balls even as his purple, engorged cock-head throbbed in protest.

Was he actually going to come again? He couldn’t believe it, but his body was tensing up, his breath coming out in puffs, the muscles in his thighs bulging. Yes, he could feel it, it was coming, it was within reach.

“God,” he choked out, and you moaned in encouragement, kissing his hip as your hand sped up the tiniest bit.

Bucky whipped his head down to look in disbelief as a splash of cum jettisoned out of his cock to add to the mess on his stomach, his body shuddering violently.

“That’s it,” you breathed with delight, playfully biting his hip as you jerked him through the tiny orgasm, soothing him with your hands up and down his body as you kissed you way up his torso, taking a nipple into your mouth and suckling noisily. You’d both been surprised by how sensitive Bucky’s nipples were, and he still struggled to admit how fucking much he loved it when you played with them, the tingling going straight down to his groin. Bucky shuddered as you bullied the nipple with your tongue and teeth the exact way he used to do to you.

Bucky was still struggling to gather his frayed and scrambled thoughts while his body shivered in the aftershocks of his pleasure, and he heard himself make a sound suspiciously like a whimper as you straddled his waist and laid down on top of him. Bucky relished the heavenly intimacy of your skin on his, of your warmth covering him, and felt himself overwhelmed with emotion as you nuzzled his cheek and wrapped your arms around his neck. He tucked his face into the hollow of your throat, trying to get closer, desperately wanting to wrap his arms around your body. He made the weird whimpering sound again and didn’t even have enough presence of mind to be embarrassed by it. He wanted to kiss you so bad, he needed to feel the comfort and security of your lips.

“P-please…kiss me,” he mumbled into the skin of your neck, eyes closing against the onslaught of churning pleasure of your body on his mingling with his body struggling to cope with the pleasure of his last orgasm.

You pulled back and kissed him immediately, humming soothingly as he hungrily pushed your lips open with his to suck on your tongue. You kissed him again and again, pulling back far too soon and Bucky shamelessly whined in protest, stretching his neck towards you, mindlessly trying to reclaim your mouth.

“You’re being so good, baby, it’s making me so wet,” you mumbled against his lips, and he shuddered and moaned against your mouth, helpless against the visceral reaction he had to you using dirty words. “Wanna see?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper, and Bucky gasped in a mix of arousal and trepidation. Yes, he fucking wanted to see, he fucking loved your pussy, loved watching it, loved seeing it messy and sloppy wet. At the same time, he didn’t know if he could stand anymore now, he was too fucking sensitive, too overstimulated, his cock pulsing along with his pulse where it lay still swollen and spent against his stomach.

You didn’t wait for him to answer and Bucky watched, breath speeding up, as you raised yourself up and scooted up to straddle his chest. He could feel the wetness between your legs smear against his abs and he downright growled in frustration. It was too much. He wanted to fucking ruin you. Pulling your knees up, you leaned back with one hand on his thigh and splayed yourself out for him, your pussy so close, and yet just out of reach.

Bucky let out a huffing sound of desperation as he beheld your sopping wet cunt, seeing a tiny trail of his cum still leaking out of you, down over your asshole and pooling on his chest. God it was so fucking hot, and you knew how weak he was against a sight like that, how much he fucking loved to have sweat and cum and spit and slick covering you both. And he knew if he kept watching it, his cock would try and rise again, and he didn’t know if he could survive another attempt at orgasming.

“You see how swollen it is, baby?” you asked, reaching your free hand down and slowly tracing over your pussy lips, circling teasingly around your clit. Bucky licked his lips, imagining he could conjure your sweet, heady taste on his tongue, and nodded, not able to tear his gaze away from his very favorite thing on this earth. “It aches for you baby, it wants you to fuck it again,” you added, watching carefully as Bucky’s mind imploded a little.

“Oh God, doll, I don’t…I can’t… I… please,” he moaned out between labored breaths, not even knowing what he was babbling about, but completely unable to tear his gaze away from your sweet cunt and the way it clenched as you kept toying with your own clit.

“You want to lick it, baby?” you asked.

Oh god, yes he wanted it, but fuck, he knew his cock would get hard again if he did. Well, try at least. You knew it too. Wicked little minx, you were strumming him like a well-tuned fiddle. Still, Bucky nodded mindlessly, desperate for you. You cooed at him, dragging a hand through his hair lovingly and scooted closer to push your cunt into his face, and he moaned long and gratefully as you started to grind on his mouth. “Mmmm, just like that, that feels so good, baby,” you said as you undulated, his tongue flicking your clit the way he knew you liked, his mind buzzing with the fulfilling pleasure of eating you out, of giving you pleasure, of tasting the mix of his own taste with yours on his tongue like the most heady aphrodisiac. His cheeks were flush, feverish both from his exertion but now also from the way your praise made him feel all tingly, floating on a cloud. He felt high, drugged out of his mind on pleasure.

He was faintly aware he was continually moaning into your pussy, eyes half-closed and dazed as you got closer and closer to release, bucking your hips. A hand fisted on his hair and his moan turned to a growl. Yes, yes, yes, he kept chanting in his head as you came in his mouth, your cunt pulsing, drenching his chin in more of your juices. His cock throbbed with his sped-up heartbeat, rigid against his stomach as you came and came and came and all Bucky could think was yes, yes, yes…

Bucky was still buzzing away in a cloud of slowly drifting thoughts of you when he faintly registered your weight lifting off his chest, and then he was promptly brought back to reality when a hand wrapped around his cock. He cried out, blurry eyes looking down to see you between his legs again, holding his slightly hard cock in a gentle grasp. He whimpered openly this time as you lowered your mouth to gently lick the underside of his cock, tenderly but firmly coaxing his overworked cock back to rigid hardness.

“I want one more,” you murmured against the head of his cock before the tip of your tongue gently swiped at his frenulum, and Bucky could only whine low in his throat, completely beyond words, body writhing on the mattress. “You’re so hard, daddy, feels like your cock wants to come again,” you murmured, rising up and gently straddling his hips, fitting his cock between your soggy pussy lips. Your hips started a slow grinding motion and Bucky’s breath started to come out in puffs. He sounded like an angry bull, for christ’s sake, and he melted down into the mattress, eyes glued to the way your cunt slid up and down his cock, teasing and overwhelming him at the same time.

You raised your hips and placed the head of his cock at your entrance, and Bucky watched in trepidation mixed with helpless arousal as you slowly started sinking down on him. His eyes rolled back in his head and his mouth dropped open as his mind blanked out completely from the pleasure

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #prompt #prompt fic

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tomriddleslove · 4 months

Text

Pt 2 - The one that you want.

✩Theodore Nott x Reader

Pt 2 to Hey, trouble (DELETED)

Summary: The one where just as things are beginning to look up, everything comes crashing down. Alternatively: Tension, Fluff, Angst.

A/N: This fic was written very sleep deprived so I ask you to bear with me. The second part is my favourite so just stick with it.

Songs: The Way - Mac Miller, Ariana Grande

Lover, you should have come over - Jeff Buckley

Promise - Laufey

NOTE: I accidentally deleted my account and did not have the first part of this mini series saved! I will probably rewrite it but there is some context you should know, so i’ll try summarise it as concisely as possible:

You and Theodore used to be really good friends when you first joined Hogwarts. Naturally, as you both got older, you changed slightly. Theodore came back one summer and he seemed completely different, he was not only incredibly handsome but he had generally flourished as a person. The girls all loved him and he found a new set of friends, essentially forgetting about you. Time skip a few years and you become friends with Pansy, and the rest of the group. Theodore greets you as though nothing has changed. You habour a lot of resentment to him initially, but realise you really do love chilling with the group and so you set it to the side. In the fic, you’re at a party and you head up to the roof. Theodore appears and you chat for the first time in ages. It gets a bit tense when you subtly call him out but you try brush it off as a joke. He noticed you at their quidditch practice earlier on in the day with mattheos number painted on your face, and he sounds a bit jealous. You assure him it was only for jokes, though you’re confused as to why he’d be upset. Theodore (internally ) alludes to loving you and you’re both emotionally stunted idiots in love.

AND that brings us back to now. Enjoy xx

Friday had finally come, and you couldn't think of a word that could place just how relieved you were feeling. Don't get it wrong, you hugely valued your education, and took pride in working hard, but at the end of the day, there's only so much history of magic one could tolerate before their brain tuned out. The surprise quiz you took in class today told you that you had reached that point many months ago. But it was ok, that was an issue for the future.

You click open the door to your dorm room, tossing your bag haphazardly to the side as you undo your tie, pulling it loose with a groan of relief. Pansy is sprawled out comfortably on your bed because apparently, yours was comfier (they were the exact same thing, she just couldn't be bothered to make hers in the morning.)

You flick a strand of hair that fell in front of your face with a dramatic sigh as you flop down onto the bed, lying perpendicular to Pansy as you rest your head on her lap. She has a half smile of amusement as her hand comes down to pat your head, eyes trained on her book. You raise a brow and shuffle up slightly to catch a glimpse of what she was reading.

You see the word ‘shaft’ once and that's all you need to see as you gasp with fake indignation.

“Pansy… Whilst I'm sitting here?” You groan and she grins, her face slightly red as she shrugs, shameless.

I mean, come on. You weren't a stranger to smut, but right in front of you? You grab the book from her hand and toss it across the room.

“None of that whilst I'm here. Your amazing and beautiful friend is vying for attention so focus on me.’ You say and she playfully rolls her eyes as she lies back on her bed.

“It's disgustingly hot. I can't be bothered for this year anymore. The days are as hot as hell depths and the evening has me freezing my nonexistent balls off.” Pansy moans, and you hum in agreement.

You’re grateful for your friend and her seemingly never-ending talent of speaking because you currently couldn't even muster the energy to speak.

“Do we have to go watch the boys today? Lila told me Madam Pince has charmed the library with a cooling spell. We could go there instead.” Pansy says, sitting up, and the idea is incredibly tempting. You live for nothing more than to get out of this dastardly heat, especially in the comfort of the library (Pansy and yourself had mastered the art of smuggling snacks in. The key was in making sure you triple-checked what you bought in, which you learnt after Pansy had accidentally sat on a Fizzlebees Exploding Sherbet last winter. The poor 1st year who had sat next to you was sure that there was some kind of attack and leapt under the nearest table.)

The mention of practice has your mind thinking back to your most recent encounter with Theodore. Just thinking about it again elicited that strange feeling in your stomach. You were, perhaps, close to a path of redemption (though it was more Theodore redeeming himself.)

With a sigh, you shake your head.

“We promised them we'd come. Besides, imagine the absolute havoc Mattheo will cause when he finds out we ditched for the library of all places. He would get us banned for a month, at the very least.” You say, and Pansy grumbles but ultimately knows you’re right. She sighs, muttering.

“Yes yes, I suppose you're right.” She begrudgingly admits and you grin, sitting up. You walk over to your closet, looking for something else to wear as you felt as though you were positively melting in your uniform. You flick through your closet, cursing the endless void that conveniently was full of sweaters and thick jumpers now summer has come. You dig around and find a pair of black denim shorts towards the back. You don't even know when you got them, but they fit and they'll do the job. You're thankful for the fact that you love the feeling of freshly shaven legs on your bedsheets, because heaven knows you would not bother to shave your legs for a man. You manage to find a green shirt, and you slip it on. It's nothing special really, but you weren't dressing up for anyone. You were long past those days now, you found that it was lovely not giving two shits. Pansy called it alarming, but you liked to think of it as… eclectic.

Pansy brings over her signature red lipstick (which you're sure only she can pull off) and holds your cheek in place to draw a number 10 on it, as standard practice. You reach up to grab her hand.

“Wait. Do 7 instead.” You say. She widens her eyes slightly and wiggles her brows as she looks at you.

“Oh? And why is that?” She probes and you playfully swat her, rolling your eyes.

“Theodore just asked me to. Besides we shouldn't inflate Mattheo's ego too much.” You respond a bit too quickly, and she has a shit-eating grin on her face. Pansy knows you well though, and she knows probing any further will only give her a stinging hex and nothing more, so she simply looks at you with a pointed look as she draws the 7 on instead. You watch as she traces the number 7 on her face too, adjusting her hair as she pouts and blows a kiss at herself in the mirror. You pointedly roll your eyes to tease her and she throws a pillow at you.

“Alright alright, you humble lady. Let's go.” You muse, holding your arm out. The two of you link arms as you descend down to the quidditch pitch. The sun is shining blazing down on you, and you feel uncomfortably hot and sticky within a few seconds of being outside. You truly weren't built for warm weather.

The grass on the pitch is a beautiful rich green and the sky is so picturesquely blue that it seems more like a postcard as opposed to real life. You imagine that this must be their favourite season; you had entertained the idea of watching one match in the winter season and immediately stopped after a gust of wind sent a bird flying into the girl sitting above you (You were sure it had given her that scratch on her cheek.) You couldn't cope with watching a match in such harsh weather, and you couldn't even begin to imagine how it must be to play in such conditions.

Idiots, really. They brought it on themselves. They definitely came to that realisation when they would be dragged out of bed at 5:00 am to go play in the freezing cold whilst you remained blissfully asleep under your warm covers.

You clamber up the stairs of the stands and curse under your breath. For all the beauty and wonders the wizarding world had, was it really that damn hard to have a few escalators here and there? You wanted to watch a practice game, not train to have the thighs of Hercules. You finally reach the top and shimmy down the benches with Pansy, leaning against the railing, The team was already up in the air, circling around whilst tossing the ball to one another. For all the grace and elegance Draco exuded on the ground, you couldn’t help but snicker when you catch the sight of him looking like he had slathered himself in red paint, all sweaty and grimacing; strands of his blonde hair clinging to his face.

“You alright up there Draco? Mummy forget to send you some sun cream?” You call out teasingly, and he sneers at you as Mattheo cackles, swooping down on his broom to greet you and Pansy.

“There they are!” Blaise says, a small grin on his face as he flies down to your level, joining Mattheo. You don’t even have the time to greet him because a loud gasp escapes Mattheo's lips, his hand coming out to grip your chin, tilting your face to the side.

“Traitors!” Mattheo says, eyes flickering between Pansy and yourself. You can't keep the grin off your face as you pry your face out of Mattheo's hands.

“Oh come on Mattheo. We love you all equally and need to express that love as such.” Pansy drawls, a taunting grin on her face.

“Fuck off, I'm the only important one,” Mattheo responds, puffing out his chest as he points to himself.

Blaise has to hold back from rolling his eyes, looking over at you exasperatedly. You exchange a glance with him and you feel your lips curl up into a small smile as you stifle a laugh.

“This was your doing! What did you do to them? Now I'm going to play like shit!” Mattheo whines, as he turns to look up at Theodore.

Theodore.

Your eyes flicker up and sure enough there he is. And god, how dare he look so good in this disgusting heat. His eyes are (and you have the feeling they were like that for quite a bit) trained on you, an unreadable expression on his face. He keeps his gaze on you, and you're sure at that moment he was trying to seduce your soul or play some stupid kind of mind tricks on you to have you thinking of him all day (it was working.)

His lips curl up into that godforsaken smile that borders on a smug little smirk. It has you embarrassingly weak in the knees and suddenly you're very glad it's hot, for you could blame your red cheeks on the heat. He flies down, tearing his gaze away from you as he comes close to Mattheo.

“Come on Mattheo, I’ve got an audience so I need to make sure I beat you embarrassingly quickly today,” Theodore says, egging his friend on.

“Yeah fucking right,” Mattheo says, turning to Theodore as the two engage in the most awful, embarrassing trash talk. You and Pansy exchange a glance and the two of you side-eye them with disdain.

The simple mind of boys managed to amaze you every time. Their attention span was impressively short.

Proving your point, Mattheo flies up to poke fun at Draco and Lorenzo, who both didn't seem to be holding up too well with the heat. You lean your elbows on the railing and stiffen slightly when Theodore flies up next to you. He hovers on his broom mid-air, resting his elbow on the railing in front of you. His face is incredibly close to yours, analysing your face with those sinful eyes of him which should be illegal because

Fuck, you were deprived.

“You wore it.” He says, and he sounds oddly breathless. You were assured by Blaise mere minutes ago that they had barely started practising.

Why did it seem so hard to speak? Why did Theodore seem so surprised? Why did you feel so bashful?

“You asked.” You respond, and his eyes search yours for a second before a smile tugs at his lips. His hand reaches out to cup your face, tilting it to the side as he looks at the 7 on your cheek.

Was this all it took for Theodore to touch you?

You’d have to start drawing 7 everywhere.

His fingers brush against your jaw, and you let out a shaky breath as his thumb runs along your cheek.

His touch leaves a fiery trail in its wake, and you are sure he has to be doing some sort of nonverbal magic because you feel as though you are going crazy. You resist the urge to let your eyes flutter shut because Theodore Nott simply has that effect.

He turns your head back and you stare at one another for a second more before he pulls back, and your mouth feels awfully dry.

“Mattheo smudged it.” He says, and his voice sounds slightly strained as he says so. You can't keep the corners of your lips from lifting slightly as you nod.

“Right.” You breathe out, looking at him. He grins, and this time you have to be sure you have not secured yourself a one-way ticket to the Janus Thickey Ward of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, because you swear his eyes flicker down to your lips for a brief second before he leans back like he's been forced to do so, wordlessly looking at you once more before he grips the broom with one hand, effortlessly flying up to start practice.

You don’t even have the time to process whatever that was because your ever-eloquent and insightful friend speaks the very thoughts running through your head.

“What in the ever-loving fuck was that?” Pansy utters, eyes wide as she stares at the spot where Theodore was standing.

Amen to that, Pansy. What in the ever-loving fuck was that?

Your hand hovers over your cheek, ghosting over the place Theodore had just touched.

You part your lips to say something, but can't even formulate the words, and Pansy recognises that.

“Holy Shit! He- That-” She says, hands grabbing your shoulders as she shakes you. You're ashamed to say you needed it because you were sure you were dreaming.

“What's going on between you two? First, you’re wearing his number to the match. Then he's practically eye fucking you and you're both literally about to make out.” Pansy babbles and you roll your eyes at her dramatics.

“Oh calm down, Pansy. He barely looked at me, and he was just fixing it because Mattheo had smudged it. There's nothing going on.” She says and Pansy narrows her eyes.

“Oh yes, and I’m fucking straight. We both know that's a lie.” She deadpans, and you shake your head with an exasperated smile.

You couldn't tell whether you wanted to crack up with laughter or strangle the shit out of her. With Pansy, the line blurred more often than not. It’s why you loved her so dearly.

“Genuinely Pansy, nothing’s going on between Theodore and me. We used to be really good friends. That's all.” You say, with a tone of finality. She sighs, mumbling under her breath.

“….Painfully obvious”

“Both know that's a lie…..”

“Hopeless idiot…”

You shoot her a glare at her mumbling and she returns the sentiment with a pointed smile, enough to make you roll your eyes with amusement. You rest your head on her shoulder as the two of you watch the match.

The day Theodore had walked past you like you simply didn't exist was the day you swore to yourself you'd never, EVER, let yourself be good friends with him again. You stuck to your word always, yet this was proving to be one time where you didn't.

You prayed you wouldn't regret this, but alas, the universe is cruel at times.

The news of Draco’s father cancelling their annual summer holiday trip came surprisingly as great news to your groups as you all lounged in the library (which was as packed as it had ever been thanks to Madam Pince’s cooling charm. You all begged her to teach you the spell but she refused, and you were sure she kept it hidden to make sure people came to the library. Luckily for the group, you were one of the most conscientious students in your year, so you'd all get away with things due to the teachers favouring you greatly. A few other groups were kicked out immediately.)You all sat in a cosy arrangement in the far back end of the library. Pansy sat on the floor beside you, whilst you lounged in an armchair, feet thrown over one arm. Blaise sat on the other arm of the chair, with Draco and Theodore sitting opposite you. Between the armchair and sofa facing one another was a third sofa and a small round table. Mattheo and Lorenzo sat on that third sofa. Lorenzo stretches, sprawled out as he props his feet up on the table. You reach out and slap him with the book you were reading, and he cowers sheepishly as he puts his feet down.

“I was looking forward to summer in Versailles,” Draco complains, and you sigh. Would be nice to be able to go on such trips.

“Actually…” Pansy says, sitting up as though she’s just had an idea. Knowing your friend, you can't help but feel terrified about what's about to come out of her mouth.

“My parents have a beautiful holiday home down in France and they're going to Australia this year, so it's not being used. Why don't we all spend a week there?” Pansy says.

It's actually a very clever Idea, and a chorus of murmurs of agreement and nods echo throughout the group.

“That actually sounds good” Lorenzo says, and Blaise hums in agreement.

“I have family who live in France so they could sort out travel for us when we are there. I'm sure I can go.” Baise says and Pansy claps her hands excitedly, rubbing them together like some kind of evil genius (sometimes you were sure she was.)

“Draco, Theo?” Pansy says, and the mention of Theo's name has your eyes flickering up from your book. He's looking at you but the second your eyes meet he quickly looks at Pansy and nods, clearing his throat.

“Huh? Oh, uh- yeah.Sounds good.” He says. You lightly smile to yourself as you look down at your book.

“ I suppose I’ll tolerate it.” Draco sighs, and a chorus of groans escapes the group at his melodramatic behaviour.

“Oh piss off Draco, just admit you like us,” Mattheo says and Draco scoffs.

The boys very quickly once again get into a semi-play fight, and a stern hush from Madam Pince as she glares at the group of you sends them both sheepishly quiet. She walks away and it’s your turn to glare at the two boys.

“She may like me now, but if you two don't shut up she sure as fuck won't, and ill set your robes on fire if you force me to get through the summer whilst being banned from the library.” You spit, scolding them.

Mattheo and Draco both look down like children being chastised and Blaise has to hide his amusement as he nudges your shoulder, getting up.

“Right well, that's our cue to leave anyway. Have the real match tomorrow so we need an early night.” Blaise says. One by one everyone gets up, Pansy pushing off the floor with a sigh as she dusts down her skirt.

She turns to you, raising a brow.

“You coming?” She asks, holding a hand out and you look up, shaking your head.

“Nah. Gonna stay here for a while. Finish reading this.” You say, holding up your book with a weak smile. Pansy shakes her head with a smile, ruffling your hair (much to your dismay).

“My little neek. Have fun!” She says, and you flip her off at the comment. She grins, blowing a fake kiss back at you as she manoeuvres past the wooden bookshelves and out of the library.

You sigh and feel as though you're sinking further into the plush armchair, a pillow held to your chest as you read your book. Everything about the library was so pleasantly calming. The dim lights that cast dancing shadows of the book spines across the wall. The bibliosmia that you inhaled deeply as you lay for what felt like hours, reading whatever you could get your hands on. You’re so caught up in the allure of the library (Pansy might have a point, you definitely were a neek), that you don't even notice the presence of someone coming to sit down on the sofa next to you until the sound of the leather cushions sagging under weight draws your attention up from the pages of the book.

Seriously? Were you actually that oblivious? It was extremely alarming if you were.

You look up and see Theodore moving to take a seat on the sofa next to you. He stretches out his legs, his large frame suddenly making the space seem a lot smaller.

“Hey.” He says, and your lips quirk up in a smile as you speak.

“Hey,” You respond, folding the corner of your book.

“What are you reading?” Theodore asks, and you raise a brow.

Did he really have an interest in the book you were reading? A few years ago the Theodore you knew would never touch a book (though he would listen to you ramble on about them for an hour.)

But Theodore has changed, And so have you. He’s no longer the Theodore you knew, and the reminder turns the feeling in your stomach unpleasant.

You hold up your book, weakly smiling as you show him the cover. It was rather beaten and bruised, but you had owned this copy since your first year. You’ve reread it more times than you can count.

“Little women,” Theodore says, a small smile of recognition on his face. He remembered you, always walking around with that book. Theodore couldn’t comprehend what half the words in the book meant, but he remembered hearing you talk about it and thinking you were truly the most incredible person he had ever met.

That hadn't really changed.

“Mhmm. Must be my 5th time rereading it this year.” You say, with a small smile, and Theodore lets out a low laugh.

He's looking down at the table, and you admire the way the dim light dances along his features, making them look surprisingly soft.

“Love Jo all your days, if you choose, but don't let it spoil you, for it's wicked to throw away so many good gifts…” Theodore starts, gaze trained ahead.

“......because you can't have the one you want” You finish, quietly.

Theodore's gaze drops to his hands, fiddling with the threads on his bag. The air is thick with unspoken words. A quiet dance of regrets lingers in the spaces between your words.

"Little Women," Theodore repeats, his fingers tracing the zip on his bag. "I remember how you used to quote passages from that book like they were sacred verses. It was almost like a religion for you."

You can sense the undertone in his words—the acknowledgement of a shared past that now exists as a distant echo.

The silence that follows hangs heavy.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, the worn pages of the book suddenly feeling like a fragile shield against the currents of emotion. Theodore's eyes, once familiar and comforting, now carry a hint of regret and a touch of something unsaid.

"Jo March was always your favourite," he continues, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

“Still is,” you say, and he nods, looking up at you. His smile is tight-lipped, and you fight the urge to reach forward and massage the furrow of his brow. He reaches into the side pocket of his bag, pulling out a book.

Little women.

You frown as you take the copy from him, flicking through it. There are scribbles and annotations all over the pages.

You hate the way you instantly recognise his handwriting - another testament as to how Theodore was weaved into everything you did.

Theodore takes the book back, his fingers lingering on the worn cover. He opens the book, thumbing through the pages, his eyes fixing on the annotations.

"I've been reading it," he admits, his voice a low murmur. "Annotating it. I wanted to see it through your eyes, to understand why it meant so much to you."

You watch him, and your heart clenches at his voice. At his eyes, At the way he speaks, and the way he keeps his head down. The realisation that he held onto this piece of you, even as you both drifted apart, is enough to send you into a spiral.

"I see you in these pages," Theodore continues, his gaze locking onto the annotated paragraphs. "I see you in between the lines, and in the words. I see you in Jo, I see you in the witty comments. Every time I read this, It's like a piece of you is still here with me."

A lump forms in your throat, and you swallow hard, trying to push back the tears that threaten to spill over.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry

“Every time I read these words, I feel like I'm back with you, even if just for a moment." He admits, looking up at you.

The devastation in his eyes is surely mirrored in your own.

You want to cry. You want to shout, because how dare he sit here, and speak of you with such reverence, and act like he cares for you when he had forgotten about you so easily? How dare he say he sees you in everything he does when he looked right past you when you stood in front of him?

How dare he act like he missed you when he didn’t?

You can't say anything. You physically can't, because every time you open your mouth it hurts. Grief clings to the pipes, scratching at your throat. It restricts your breathing, it gnaws at you.

Theodore looks at you and clears his throat, quickly looking down. You fail to make out the fact that his own eyes are threatening to spill with tears, as your own teary eyes cloud your vision.

It was always like that with you and Theodore.

Amid your shared tears, the unspoken suddenly becomes the unsayable.

He gets up, and he can't bear to look at your face because every glance of those tears in your eyes eats away at his heart. He grabs his bag and throws it over his shoulder, rushing out for fear of what you might say.

“See you” He murmurs, walking away. You can’t tear your gaze away from where he walks away even as his form disappears, and you swear the boy had taken part of your heart with him.

The quote “Fate was a cruel mistress” Never made much sense to you. Fate was beautiful even in its destructive nature. Fate was unstoppable, she didn't wait for anyone or veer away. You used to admire that about her. You found it to be a beautiful thing. Of course, it's because you also believe that fate would only wait for you. Wait that one extra second. Then, perhaps, Theodore and you would be on the same path. Instead, you were two, walking the same path only a heartbeat apart. As if time itself conspires to teach that love can occur in the same book, but pages apart.

You cannot love the beauty of her tenacity and cower from it too.

#harry potter #slytherin #tom riddle #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott fic #lorenzo berkshire #mattheo riddle #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #slytherin boys fic #slytherin boys #theodore nott angst

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suashii · 2 days

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— 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝒸𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 ౨ৎ

boothill x f!reader. 2k wc. ﾉ non-canon compliant ﾉ sfw ﾉ some vaguely suggestive bits ﾉ farmhand!boothill ﾉ flirty teasing ﾉ pet names ( darlin', princess, honey, sweetheart. . . i went crazy @.@ )

my comeback to writing for hsr! first time writing for boothill so pls don't be too tough on me :3 hope u like ! !

the new farmhand at your grandfather’s ranch is trouble.

he shouldn’t be, not with the way your grandpa speaks so highly of him—he’s exactly the kind of help this place needed, he tells you. starts on time, is thorough in his work, and takes good care of all that your grandfather holds dear. you should love him simply for that—taking a weight off the old man’s shoulders and putting his heart at ease—but you’ve seen an entirely different side of the so-called saint.

ever since you arrived at the ranch a few days ago, the one called boothill has been a pain in your neck. it took nothing more than you stepping out of your car for him to label you that city girl, the “little lady” who looks like she’s never stepped foot in mud a day in her life.

from that moment onward, it’s been nothing but sly remarks at your expense. you don’t miss the chuckles he makes no effort to hide as you refamiliarize yourself with the animals and get used to the scent of hay and manure. his not-so-subtle smirks when you’re simply passing by have been the most irking. your mere presence is seemingly a joke to boothill.

you’ve made it your mission to steer clear of the man but the task is proving to be difficult. the fact that he’s now living in what you used to know as one of the guest bedrooms coupled with your grandpa’s oblivious albeit innocent nature seems to be enough to throw a wrench in that plan of yours.

your trip here was meant to be a relaxing getaway from the hustle and bustle of city life but you’ve only taken on a new role as boothill’s personal assistant if the tray with two glasses of lemonade is any indication. if it were up to you, you’d be enjoying a peaceful breakfast without worrying about the man bothering you but it’s just your luck that your grandfather caught you before you could make the meal, politely asking you to deliver a cold beverage to boothill who has been working since the sun rose over the horizon.

luckily for the farmhand, you can’t say no to your grandpa.

that’s how you find yourself wandering the grounds in your satin pajama set and the boots your grandpa prepared for your arrival. your legs move in muscle memory as you navigate the vast stretch of land in search of boothill. thankfully, you don’t have to go much farther, catching sight of the man at the entrance of the barn.

he’s gone for a simple look today—a white t-shirt and jeans paired with the dirtied boots you haven’t gone a day without seeing him in. his shirt is already stained and is darker around the neckline, dampened with sweat. he’s made an effort to tie back his black and white strands of hair, though, a few of the shorter ones have escaped and frame his face. the hat you’ve grown accustomed to seeing him in, strangely, isn’t sitting atop his head.

he must see you approaching out of the corner of his eye because he turns to face you, an immediate grin taking over his lips. it makes you grip the tray tighter.

he looks you up and down as he pulls off his gloves, stuffing both in his back pocket. when gray eyes settle on yours, he tells you, “nice get up.”

you roll your eyes because you saw a comment like that coming. everything you do down to the way you dress is scrutinized when it comes to him. even though you’ve only been here a short while, you’ve come to expect this kind of behavior from boothill.

he huffs out a laugh at your reaction before his gaze falls to the tray in your hands and the glasses that sit on it. “that for me, darlin’?”

against your will, your heart jumps in your chest. that, you haven’t grown accustomed to. you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to him throwing around pet names at you like it’s nothing, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to him. it’s easier to blame the heat blooming in your cheeks on the sun’s beaming rays rather than boothill’s sweet talking.

you hold the tray out to him, hoping the effect of his words isn’t visible on your face. “courtesy of grandpa.” you can’t have him thinking this gesture was born from the kindness of your heart. his teasing would be merciless then.

“of course,” he drawls, grabbing one of the glasses and swallowing a few gulps. the shine of the lemonade is left on his lips when they pull away from the brim, his tongue poking out from between them to lick up the lingering drops. your eyes remain on his lips longer than they should, long enough to see them curl up into that annoyingly handsome smile. “little miss city girl wouldn’t be caught dead out here on her own accord.”

he can only stay charming for so long. “did you miss the whole part when my grandpa told you i grew up here?”

“no, no, i caught that.” he takes another sip of his drink. “it’s just that you strike me as the type who spent more time riding the horses than cleaning up after ‘em.”

you keep quiet and nurse your glass of lemonade because the only other option besides lying is telling him that he’s right. in your defense, what ten-year-old wants to spend their summer hauling hay and shoveling up horse crap?

“look,” you start, “i’m not some delicate glass figure who can’t get her hands dirty. i’m perfectly capable of helping out.”

boothill raises his eyebrows, a glint of humor sparkling in his steel irises. you know the look of a challenge when you see it and it almost makes you regret trying to defend yourself. “oh yeah? then the princess wouldn’t mind lending me a hand?”

“i wouldn’t,” you tell him. contrary to your statement, you really don’t want to spend more time with him than necessary, even if that means proving a point and settling some stupid argument. your mind races to find a believable excuse that’ll let you off the hook. “but i’m barely dressed to do any work. another time, maybe.”

he waves his hand in dismissal. “don’t worry, darlin’. what i’ve got in mind ain’t much work and won’t steal too much of your time.”

you nervously chew your cheek as boothill takes the tray that’s tucked under your arm, setting the now empty glasses on it and finding a place for them to rest. he nods his head in the direction he wants you to follow and, reluctantly, you do just that. he casts a glance over his shoulder to look at you. “just help me get this hay inside the barn, will ya?”

the job seems easy enough, a surprisingly straightforward request from boothill who seems to derive pleasure from giving you a hard time. too easy, you think to yourself as he heaves one of the rectangular bales of hay from the top of the stack. the task looks effortless when he does it, a short grunt being the only suggestion of exertion on his end.

he disappears into the red building and you take his temporary departure as an opportunity to pick up a bale of your own. you grab a hold of the twine keeping the hay in its shape and immediately grimace at the way the fodder pokes and prods at your palms. you’re tempted to let go and step away but you have a point to prove and plan on doing so. with a groan, you lift the bale, or at least try to. it’s heavier than you expect it to be and the scratching against your exposed legs is uncomfortable, sure to get worse with the distance you’re meant to walk.

you’re about to drop the bale back in place when a pair of arms reach around you, calloused hands joining yours to carry the collection of hay. boothill’s unexpected presence catches you off guard and the proximity of his mouth to your ear makes your breath catch in your throat. “having a bit of trouble, love?”

love? your skin prickles with goosebumps at yet another pet name. this time, it’s more difficult to blame the heat running beneath your skin on the sun. it takes a moment for you to find your voice and when you do, the ones you manage to get out refute his claim. “i’m not. i told you i wasn’t dressed for this.”

he snorts at your reply as though he can see right through the flimsy excuse. “right, well, you’re in my way, so why don’t i help you with this one?”

before you can protest, boothill is on his way, dragging you along with him. your steps match his, his bigger boots trailing behind yours as the two of you walk the path to the growing supply he likely started before you interrupted. you’re released from your place between the bale and boothill when he drops it on top of the other.

you’re free to make a move, to slip away from the charged air and reclaim your personal space. instead of doing so, you simply turn around to face him. you’re met with his broad chest before you tip your head up to meet his eye. “i could have done that on my own.”

“i’m sure you could have,” he says, but the smile pulling at his lips tells another story. he reaches behind him with one hand to pull the gloves from his pockets, waving them between you as an offer. “these might help.”

you happily take the gloves as he takes his leave, slipping your hands into the protective gear. they’re larger than you need and there’s extra space in them but you don’t mind, not if they’ll help you show boothill that you refuse to be reduced to some city girl.

and they do help, at least with shielding your hands from the unpleasant sensation of hay against them. the bales are just as heavy and just as awkward to haul but you’re able to get the job done, nonetheless. for every one you carry, boothill lugs two more past you. his familiarity with the job means the two of you are finished one within a reasonable amount of time.

you drop the final bale with the rest, a relieved sigh pushing past your lips at a job well done. boothill stands off to the side and whistles as you snatch the gloves off, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “well, would you look at that.”

“surprised?” you ask, tossing his gloves back at him.

“honey, anyone can hoist some hay.” he catches the gloves with ease, stuffing them back in his pocket. you’re almost offended at how easily he dismisses your efforts but you don’t have time to let the annoyance sprout before he’s approaching you, tipping your chin up so that you have no choice but to look at him. “though, i doubt they’d look as pretty as you doing it.”

you can’t tell whether he’s trying to get a rise out of you or if he truly stands by his statement. all you know for sure is that his sugary words and the feel of his skin against your face leave you unmistakably flustered, so much so that you can’t control the erratic beat of your heart and can’t stop the little nagging voice in the back of your head from whispering that you don’t dislike him as much as you let on.

boothill is trouble, but not in the way you thought he would be.

“i have to go.” you knock his hand away and turn on your heel in a rush to get back to the house, far away from boothill.

you can escape the sight of him, the feel of him, but not the sound of him as he yells after you. “see you around, sweetheart!”

thanks for reading! consider reblogging if u enjoyed :3

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: honkai star rail #boothill x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #boothill drabble #hsr drabbles #boothill fluff #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff

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starrgaziinggg · 8 months

Text

all I need is you

Hyunjin x reader, established relationship, fluff

-> 1.4k words

You almost don't notice the space beside you being filled. It had been hours, just staring at the city below you as the wind forced goosebumps to rise on your arms. Being alone had never bothered you much until today. Watching groups of friends gossiping around campus on your first day back only fuelled your desire to have a friend group of your own.

Girls you could talk about anything with. Guys that teased you lovingly. A firm body of people around you. It wasn't as though you'd never had friends, it was more so you couldn't find the place you naturally fit in. You were never any good at long term friendships, finding the forced nature of them disconcerting.

Hyunjin drops a hoodie on your lap before nestling in beside you, the make shift outdoor sofa you'd created one bored night being the only source of comfort on your rooftop. Until Hyunjin, of course. His warm aura brings you comfort even on your darkest days.

"Figured you'd be freezing to death up here," he chuckles, grabbing both of your hands in his to warm them. His freshly dyed black hair (a shame to you, since you'd loved the red, but his boss did not) blows into his face as he turns to give you a lopsided grin.

It's almost comical how at ease you feel now he's by your side, your feelings of loneliness evaporating almost instantly. He was a stroke of luck, Hyunjin, seemingly finding you when you needed him most. An art student, working long shifts in a local cafe to get by, who'd become a recluse voluntarily.

The bookstore you'd first met in was always desolate. You'd no idea how the small gem managed to stay afloat, since you were almost always the only person that bothered to give it time. It was one of your favourite places, the sole owner knowing you by name.

Six chapters into rereading your favourite book and there he was, nudging your foot with his as he flopped onto the beanbag beside you.

"Heaven, by Mieko Kawakami," he read aloud, tilting his head at you inquisitively. "Any good?"

A couple seconds after the shock of a gorgeous man interrupting your evening routine, you nod slowly.

"It's my favourite," you had replied in a small voice, confused as to why this god crafted human being was in a run down bookshop behind your apartment block, and why he was giving you the time of day.

"Tell me about it," he's said, shrugging his shoulders and leaning back, patiently waiting.

So you delved into a ramble about the basis of the book and why it meant so much to you, the premise of morality and why people do the things they do. And the whole time Hyunjin, as you'd come to discover his name, sat listening intently, nodding along without interrupting once.

When you'd concluded, realising you had been speaking much longer than you probably should have been, he raised his eyebrows.

"You know, I was never any good at English in school. I slept through every book analysis my dull ass English teacher ever attempted. And, I actually only came in here because it's one of the only stores in the area that has this art book I need, but I could probably listen to you talk about how to tie my own shoelaces and still be entranced."

The shellshock of Hyunjin's immediate interest in you took weeks to dissipate. You'd talked until the owner of the bookstore told you (lovingly) to beat it, and then some. The next day, you'd completed your summer university coursework in the cafe he worked at until his shift finished and then walked aimlessly around the area, never running out of topics to discuss.

And that was that. Within months you knew everything about each other. He took you to his favourite museum one day, explaining the intricacies behind every painting, and all you could do was watch him in awe. He walked you home, told you you were his favourite person in the universe, and kissed you because he meant it.

You'd never thought of yourself as a lucky person, but in that moment it was as though all your good karma had willed itself into existence.

"What's going on inside that head, pretty?" He says now, tilting your head up with his finger to meet his gaze.

"Nothing majorly substantial," you reply lazily, kissing his nose lightly and making him laugh. You tug on the jumper he'd brought you, a thick hoodie he'd bought recently, as he pulls an arm around your shoulders.

"Every thought you have is substantial," he says matter-of-factly, turning back to look at the view. The city noises dulled as he spoke, car horns and music white noise in the distance. "Even the ones about cats and why they're better than dogs."

"They are," you glare at him, which he just rolls his eyes at. You sit in silence for a couple minutes, enjoying his company as he traces circles on your bare legs absentmindedly. "How was your shift today?"

"Same old," he replies, pulling a hand through his disheveled hair. "You should come in after your classes tomorrow, sit with me behind the counter."

"You're lucky your boss likes you," you chuckle, bumping his shoulder lightly with yours. "I'm there every other day."

"Chan doesn't care," Hyunjin assures with a smile. "He likes you. He actually invited you along to our work night out next weekend."

"He did?" You ask, your attention piquing.

Hyunjin hums in response. "Yeah, but it will be a whole lot of Riki terrorising everyone and risking getting himself fired," he laughs. "That kid is a menace."

"Do you want me to come?" You ask sincerely, doe eyes blinking up at the man you were wholeheartedly in love with. He looks back at you with such adoration your heart physically swells in your chest.

"Of course," he answers instantly, his brows furrowed. "Everyone I work with probably likes you more than they like me. In fact, they've stated it more than once. Plus, I'd get to show off my pretty girlfriend, and I need you for morale support against Riki."

The grin appears of your face quicker than lightening as you nestle your head into Hyunjin's shoulder.

"Sometimes I think I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have you in my life, you know," you mumble. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve you."

You feel Hyunjin shake his head above you, before reaching for your face with both hands and making you stare at him.

"You're perfect, love," he smiles, rubbing his thumb against your cold cheek. "You can be a stubborn thing, but I love you for it. If you could see yourself through my eyes you'd understand why I'm so infatuated with you."

You can't help but to roll your eyes, a natural instinct to any compliment you receive. He shakes you gently as you laugh, as if attempting to rid you of all your negative thoughts.

"Now, get your ass inside your apartment. It's fucking freezing out here, and I'm shattered," he groans, standing up and pulling you along with him.

"You're staying over?" You ask excitedly, knowing he was going to classes early in the morning.

"Duh," he says sassily, leading you through the fire escape after intertwining your hand with his own. "I missed you like crazy at work today. Chan's new no phone rule is kicking my ass and I need a cuddle."

You laugh, following him down the stairs in your apartment building like a puppy. "You're cute today."

"I'm cute everyday," he counters, turning to tilt his head at you. You stop for a second, just staring down at him.

"I love you, you know?" You say, as if he's not already aware of how deep your feelings run for him. He just grins back at you, tugging you down the stairs and into his embrace.

“I love you too, angel,” he replies whilst wrapping his arms tightly around you.

Maybe you would never have the amount of friends you’d always desired. Maybe those deep rooted feelings of loneliness would never fully dissipate. But with Hyunjin by your side, you felt as though you didn’t need anything more.

I wrote this last night and wasn’t going to post it but I think it’s cute so here you go :) sorry for the inactivity, I am swamped rn but I’m trying my best!

#hyunjin x reader #stray kids #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin fluff #stray kids hyunjin #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin fluff #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin imagine #hyunjin comfort #stray kids imagines

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hanrinz · 1 year

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domestic katsuki & fluff, y'all have a kid, not proofread!based on the tv show 'the return of superman'.

thoughts about your husband bakugou katsuki on a reality show with your daughter taking on a challenge — spending a week without you.

how will they survive? how will your husband survive?

you were a little hesitant about this idea, knowing the two would be the equation of chaos, when left unattended.

though the thought intrigued you, knowing your husband was good- scratch that, he's amazing with housework and taking care of your daughter. you think he can actually manage to take on this challenge all by himself.

the first day without you, just messed up katsuki's morning routine. waking up without you by his side got him in a panicked state, looking around the room rapidly, seeing all the cameras set up around the room and then remembering about the challenge that he had taken on. he had released a sigh, seemingly relaxing.

[cc: seems like bakugou is looking for his wife, sigh. how would bakugou survive this? ]

it had you smiling, the caption had you giggle for a moment.

it was only six in the morning, he was up and cooking in the kitchen for breakfast. you think nothing could ever go wrong for katsuki, a wonderful cook he was. oh how wrong you were

you may have oversetimated your husband, it seems like bakugou had made a mistake once again, he had cooked too much food. still thinking about you while cooking, huh?

[ cc: habits do die hard ]

it was now the time to wake up your cute little princess, which also proves to be difficult. she was stubborn as her father, not really a morning person — he wonders how you even manage to get this little brat up in the morning?

without you at home it seems like katsuki have resorted for the issue to result in bargaining with your little girl for an ice cream if she behaved. you have never seen a more excited expression on your daughter with the mention of her favorite ice cream. you'll just have to scold katsuki, when you get home.

if waking up your little girl was hard, getting ready was far more difficult, when it shouldn't have.

by no means katsuki can tie his own neck tie, but it's not really the same on how you do it the way he likes. he huffed as though telling himself he just has to live like this for a week.

katsuki has a good sense of fashion, something he had picked up from his parents — it also seems his daughter had taken that from him too. she was only going to school and yet it looks like she's attending a fashion show!

[ cc: suni seems to be ready for school! ]

looking at the time from your wall, it was already 6:40? when did the time fly so fast?

his other concerns were now thrown out of the window as he fixed suni's lunch box and gathered her backpack, as they exited the premises of their home, turning around to the door last minute,

[ cc: ah, did bakugou forget something? ]

you realize what he was looking for.

no, he didn't forget anything, he could never. but, he was looking for you, again. like a muscle memory, turning around before leaving the house to place a kiss on your cheek. but, you weren't here and that just pisses katsuki off.

hell, it's the first day of the challenge and he already wants it to end.

◞♡ this was a rushed work sorry! likes & reblogs are highly appreciated!!

#ଓ stamped : love letters #bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagine #mha fluff #bnha fluff #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou #roses ‘r rosie

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haikyu-mp4 · 21 days

Text

Knight in a borrowed suit

word count; 1215 – f!reader wearing a dress, inspired by New Girl

He stood you up. After taking up a table for over an hour, sitting in the middle of the restaurant and on show for everyone to watch as you tried your best to stop the tears from escaping, you’re sure that he stood you up. With an elegant dress, hair dolled up and impeccable makeup compared to what you usually did, you had been so excited for this date with a man you truly thought was interested. The two of you had gone out once or twice before and you were hoping it could grow into something, make you forget about that one unattainable volleyball player your heart beat a bit louder for. But it seemed not even people without status were interested for long. Maybe you came on too strong? Did you laugh too loud? Whatever it was, you weren’t sure you deserved this humiliation.

The waiter came over again with the same pitiful smile, and you knew she would politely ask you to leave. With a straightened back and tears at bay, you pursed your lips so she wouldn’t feel too bad about it.

“I’m so sorry ma’am, but unless you want to order, we have to give up your table,” she said, trying to speak as low as possible so all the people eyeing you wouldn’t be too entertained.

“That’s okay, I appreciate your patience,” you said, putting your purse on the table so you could pay for the wine glass you had when a voice rang out through the restaurant.

“Wait! I’m so sorry I’m late.” Oh, you knew that voice very well. Your head snapped in his direction, a small tear finally escaping the brim of your eye to trickle down and caress your smile. A very thankful smile.

It wasn’t your original date, it was Miya Atsumu.

He smoothed his hands over his suit, trying to catch his breath as he came over to your side, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple before moving to the other side and gesturing to the waiter. His hair was a bit messy, and his tie wasn’t very well tied, but he was handsome nonetheless. It was also Osamu’s suit, so it didn’t fit him like a glove. “Please excuse me and leave the menus. I’ll make sure to tip well for the wait,” he said, more professionally before finally sitting down. Your eyes had followed him the whole way, wide with wonder that he came to save you. It felt like you were in some romantic comedy.

About 1 hour earlier

Atsumu was never happy about that new manager asking you out, and much less about you agreeing to it. Could you not see he was going through a perfectly planned 14-step process of asking you out? You had known each other since the day he started playing for the Black Jackals and he felt like there was a spark between you. He found you beautiful even when you weren’t dressed up for anything special, and you always had a great sense of humour. Nothing could brighten his day quite like making you laugh, a feeling he would even compare to a perfect service ace.

So when he saw that slimy manager in the gym, laughing with his friend after seemingly picking something up when he was supposed to be with you, he had to stop himself from getting violent. “No way man, she was way too much. I swear I’ll hear her laugh ringing in my ears for weeks, and that ain’t a good thing.” your original date said to the other guy, and Atsumu took in a few deep breaths to calm down before running to the locker room. He hit speed dial and held the phone to his ear, happy Osamu picked up quickly.

“What?” he snapped.

“There’s no time to explain, I need you to get me a suit.”

Now here he was, sitting across from you with red ears and a slightly nervous smile. He had finally caught his breath when he looked at you properly, taking in every blink of your eyelashes and how your shoulders looked so kissable under the dress straps. “Wow,” he breathed out, feeling more breathless than he did after running all the way to the restaurant. “You look breathtaking.”

“Thank you, Atsumu,” you said affectionately, leaning your arms on the table in a desperate attempt to get just a little closer to him. You looked happy, he thought, but it was painted with uncertainty. “But… why are you here?”

Atsumu took a moment to answer, thinking back to what he heard before and trying not to let the angry emotions ruin this moment. “I’m taking a beautiful woman on the date she deserves,” he answered.

You didn’t need to know how he knew you were stood up, because now all you could think of was how real it felt. The universe granted you a chance to pretend Atsumu was there for you and not just because he’s a good guy.

It genuinely felt like that as you talked the night away, sharing food and ordering whatever wine they recommended as you talked about the things you never had time for at work. Your laugh was melodic to him, it’s what he imagined he would hear if he ever got into heaven. Unfortunately, you weren’t quite sold on him being there out of his own interest. So as you two stepped out of the restaurant at the end of the night, you said “Thank you for saving my date, Tsumu. You didn’t have to but I had a great time.”

Atsumu grinned, so hopelessly enchanted with your smile. “It was my pleasure, honestly,” he said, and it felt a bit too polite to you.

“If you want, I won’t tell anyone. You were probably just being nice,” you said with a forced chuckle, revealing more of your emotions than you planned.

“What?” he asked, grin diminishing as he tried to understand.

“You’re a good friend, I don’t want to assume there is anything more.”

“No!” It was now or never. He looked at you like you were the sun and he was the moon, desperately trying to reach for you and never quite making it; frustratedly. It left you speechless, staring at him with parted lips and trying to take in enough air to support your rising heartbeat. “I want to take you on more dates. I want to spend most of my time with you, actually. And I want to kiss you, fuck I want to kiss you so bad.” his eyes went to your lips and back up, and your pulse quickened even more, frozen like a deer in headlights from the sudden confession. Atsumu stepped closer, hands hovering over your hips like he wasn’t sure he could touch you. “I really really like you.”

“Tsumu,” you breathed out, a wide smile blinding him to the level that his eyes started watering from its light. “I like you too, I always have.”

Safe to say that the manager who stood you up would lose his job by next week, but you wouldn’t even look in his direction when you had Atsumu’s constant affection. Sometimes, the universe has a plan, and luckily, Atsumu’s 14-step plan was cut down to 3.

masterlist

#haikyu x reader #haikyu #haikyuu #hq x reader #fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #hq #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #haikyu fluff #msby atsumu #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #hq atsumu #atsumu miya #msby black jackal

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suugarbabe · 8 months

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m.r. x reader

based off this prompt: Hello could you make a either mattheo or Theo fanfic with a Hufflepuff!fem reader? With him just finger edging reader while they're blindfolded and he's also holding they're hands while doing so? I hope it's not too much trouble 😅

an: I cannot for the life of me find the ask that this prompt was sent in with but it was in my drafts for requests so i wrote it. if you requested this i hope you find it and like it !

warnings: edging, smut, 18+ MDNI

One of your favorite things about being with Mattheo is that no one expected it. One of Mattheo’s favorite things about being with you is that no one, ever, would imagine that the seemingly shy, sweet, Hufflepuff girl had the dirtier mind in the relationship.

If someone were to walk into Mattheo’s dorm room right now, they would assume your compromising position was all his idea. But in reality, you had proposed it to him after class, planting the seed of your desire in the back of his mind and causing him to not be able to focus on anything until he was able to have his hands on you.

That’s how you ended up sprawled out on his bed, green and silver tie wrapped around your head like a blindfold and your hands pinned over your head in one of Mattheo’s large hands. Your back arched off the mattress and pushed your perked nipples further into Mattheo’s mouth, his tongue delicately swirling over the taut bud while two of his fingers were deep inside your soaked cunt.

You could feel the tightening in your stomach spreading to your core and causing you to clench tight around his fingers. You were so close, and then his touch was gone. A pathetic whimper left your throat. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could practically hear the smirk plastered on his face as he teased you, “Oh, Princess, I’m sorry, were you close?”

His touch was feather light against your folds, causing you to jolt up in search for more, “Ah, ah, be a good girl for me and you’ll get what you want.” A pout painted your lips, quickly disappearing as you felt Mattheo’s teeth on your bottom lip before pressing his lips fully to yours.

He sunk two fingers back into you, curling deliciously against the spongy flesh inside. Mattheo brough you right to the edge again before pulling his fingers out once more.

“P-please, Teo. I need it so bad, need you to make me cum all over your fingers. Wanna make a mess all over your fingers before I make a mess of your cock.”

“Such a dirty mouth on such a perfect girl,” Mattheo was nearly growling in your ear and your hips were bucking again. He didn’t tease you this time, plunging his fingers deep inside you once more, curling and pumping as your breathing became more shallow, airy whisps of his name falling from your lips as you finally tumbled over the edge. As you came down from your high, Mattheo removed his tie from your eyes, “Was I too mean, Princess?” He stroked your cheek with his thumb. You smiled at him, “No, Teo, it was good, very good.” He laughed a little before pulling you on top of him, kissing you deeply once more.

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle fic #golden era

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targaryenluvs · 2 months

Text

HIS POWER / TIM BRADFORD

PAIRINGS: Dark!Tim Bradford x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: After providing a statement to an officer about a robbery, he seems to be everywhere. Even after you start avoiding him.

WARNINGS: Obsession, stalking, abuse of power, breaking and entering, suggestive content

WORDCOUNT: 3.3K Words

A/N: Just started watching the rookie and I’m in love!!🥰

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

It’d been a normal day at first.

You wanted to run errands through your Monday since you’d been working pretty hard through the last week. But being higher up in the company meant you were able to take days off to work from home when wanted.

You’d been in the confectionary isle since you were throwing a watch party of Harry Potter with all of your friends. As silly as it seemed, you were in the mood for a night of childhood friends and fun.

You had finished up shopping, and as you were making your way up to the register when you heard it.

“Get on the ground, now!”

It was as if time has frozen as you noticed everyone drop to the floor. Luckily your body followed suit and dropped down as well. But you were a minute too late as one of the men noticed you. “Didn’t I say to get down bitch?”

The word sounded foreign in your ears, to the point where you didn’t even realise he was talking to you, until he came over to you.

He pulled you up by your hair as he waved the gun around, “You ain’t talking now huh?” His grip on your hair tightened as you clenched your eyes shut. When you opened them you noticed someone reaching for their phone. You may as well try to buy her time.

You looked over at her as she mouthed, “911.” You acknowledged her by closing your eyes before talking, “What do you want me to say?” You could hear him chuckle, “Now you’re chatty.”

You shuffled until you were able to turn around to face him, taking his attention away from the woman calling the police. “Please, just take the money and go.” One of the other men came back from behind, seeming to have a mass of purses, most likely from the employees.

“I just want to talk to you baby.” Whether it was the nickname or his demeanour, you sure as hell didn’t want to talk to him anymore. So you took a risk.

Kicking him in the crotch.

You could hear him groan before falling to the floor, his gun slipping out of his hands as you grabbed it. You quickly slid it to the woman on the phone with the police before kicking him in the stomach. “You b—,” before he could continue you kicked him in the face.

You remembered there were only two others that had entered the store. One in the back and the other across the store. So you took the time to tie the man up using someone’s scarf, then stuffing his mouth with plastic bags. You had two other shoppers guard him as you took the gun back.

There were four men in your view, you quickly waved them over before making a plan.

“She’s having her baby! Someone help!”

Footsteps echoed through the place as the other man ran to the woman shouting, Sierra, “Who is it?” This man was seemingly calmer than the other you’d dealt with, “Here!” And as he turned you bashed his face with the end of your gun, and as he fell one of the shoppers took his gun. “Good job Jack, two down and one to go.”

“Bad idea, not taking me out first.” The last robber left standing had his firearm to Sierras head, with an arm around her neck. You and Jack immediately raised your guns in his directions, “Go ahead, shoot. Wonder what this pretty girls head’ll look like across the floor. Got nothing left to loose.”

Your saving grace came not only in the sirens outside.

“Put your guns down, slowly.” You and Jack hesitated, which proved to be a mistake as he aimed towards one of the other hostages, aiming and shooting at her leg. As she screamed out you folded, “Okay! Just don’t hurt anyone else.” Jack followed your lead as you put your guns down. The second you did he pushed her to the side, coming for you.

“You ruined my plan. For what? To be a hero?” His breath was heavy against your cheek, spite filled and hot. You shook your head immediately. “Well because of that, you can help me get out of here.”

He had you pick up the guns and stuff them into his duffel bag before leading you to the back at gun point. “Might just have some fun with you while we’re here.” He laughed as he opened the door.

“Hope you’re ready for some fun in prison.” As the two of you exited the store you were met with four cops, the one speaking standing in front of you. As he was momentarily distracted by being caught you turned to push him to the floor before running into the cops arms.

His partner rushed forwards to cuff him whilst reciting his rights. You clung onto the man as he held you, “You’re okay, I’ve got you.” You buried your face into his chest, taking a second to breathe before stepping back.

You read his badge, Bradford.

“Thank you, Officer Bradford.” Your smile was small, but more than enough for him. “Call me Tim.” His partner, which you learned was Lucy, eyed him up. It wasn’t everyday the grumpiest guy she knew allowed his first name to be used by a stranger.

“Let’s get you down to the station huh?” You nodded as he directed you to the back of his car. Lucy rose an eyebrow, “Couldn’t we have taken her statement here?” Tim aimed a pointed look her way, which screamed ‘shut up’. “She was actively involved, taken hostage and helped to disable every robber. Her account is more serious than the others and she might need to get checked up on. It’ll be a long statement so we’ll interview her at the station. Anything else boot?”

Lucy shook her head, “Good, now get in.”

You’d been waiting for someone to enter the room, luckily it was Tim. “I’m going to be taking your statement okay? I need you to detail everything that happened since the start of your day. Don’t leaving anything out.” You nodded along as he sat down, offering you a smile.

“Let’s begin.” You didn’t leave anything out as he asked you not to. Tim was nodding along, jotting down key bits of information as you spoke. It felt like time had passed by quickly talking to him, even if you were doing most of the talking. It’d been over an hour already.

“Alright, hang tight in here. You’ll be home in no time, probably best to take some time to yourself to recuperate. No friends.” He stood up, tucking his notepad and pen away before offering you a nice smile as you returned it. “Thank you, for not being rude and actually listening.” Tim stopped in the doorway, turning back around to you. He raised his eyebrow, waiting for more. “Why would I be rude?”

“Just, lately I’ve been seeing about a million horror story cop interactions. And I was scared to be interviewed. But you were really nice, so thanks. If there’s anything I can do, or tell you then let me know.” Before he could respond someone walked past and asked if he’d gotten your information.

“She’s free to go if you have.” You felt a weight lift off of your chest, as much as you liked being across from the gorgeous cop Tim was, you wanted nothing more than to sleep. He nodded as she left, turning his attention back to you. “Well, you’ve done more than enough regarding information. As for something you can do,” You straightened up in your chair.

“You could buy me a drink tomorrow.”

The bar was packed, but apparently Tim was a regular to the point where he had a seat waiting for him. Being the kind person he was, he let you sit on the seat. But the place was crowded so he ended practically between your legs. “So what’re you having Officer?” Tim scoffed at the title, “I’ll have what ever you’re having.” You giggled, “You want a martini?” He cringed at the words.

“Maybe I won’t have what you’re having.” You waved down the bartender, before ordering for the both of you. Whilst ordering you could feel his eyes on you, staring intently, “Is there something on my face?” He shook his head, “You’re just so gorgeous.”

You could feel the heat rush to your cheeks, “Don’t.” He swiped away the hair that fell in front of your face, “Why not, you are. I always tell the truth.” Your drinks were slid over as you both grabbed your respective drinks. Taking a sip, he stared at you as he drank his beer.

The night progressed quickly, the two of you getting lost in easily flowing conversation. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom.” You held your thumbs up to him as he walked away, weaving through the sea of people.

Taking a sip of your fourth drink, you noticed that he’d left behind his phone on the counter. You didn’t mean to pry, but your hand had a mind of its own as it swooped his phone up. You wish you hadn’t. His wallpaper was somehow a photo of you and you’d only known him for two days.

If there was one thing you didn’t think you were, it was stupid.

You swiftly swung your purse over your shoulder before making your way out of the bar and outside. It was then that you realised the fact that Tim had picked you up. “There you are.” His voice was quieter than before, now outside and not interrupted by others.

“It was getting stuffy in there, needed to breathe. I’m feeling pretty tired, you mind if we call it a night?” He shook his head, “Not at all, I’ll drop you off.” You smiled before making your way to his car.

“Doesn’t someone need to pay?” You were praying he’d take the bait and leave you to flag down a cab or call an uber. “I’ve got good credit here, we’ll be fine.”

You just needed to get home. That was all. Once you were home you could avoid him and not see him ever again. Just get home Y/n.

The ride home was filled mostly with Tim talking at you and your short replies. You didn’t want to seem suspicious but you were too scared to have a proper conversation with him. All you could see was the wallpaper burned into your mind.

As he pulled up to your apartment you felt a tiny spark of relief, you’d made it home. “You okay?” His hand rested on your thigh, “Yeah I’m alright, just tired.” You pressed your lips into a tight line, you hadn’t looked at him yet.

You wished you hadn’t, he looked pissed.

His hand tightened, “You’re lying. Did you meet someone else at the bar?” Your face scrunched up in confusion, “What? No! You were gone for minutes. How the hell am I striking up a conversation with someone and liking them in that time? I need to go.” You were met with a locked door.

You turned back to him with an awkward smile, you wrapped your hand around his in an attempt to calm him down. “Tim, I promise. Nothing happened. Please let me go inside, you can walk me to the door. I want you to.” Your lie seemed to take, as he retracted his hand to open the door. You grounded yourself by clutching onto your purse, leaving crescent indents in the leather.

His hand came around your waist, holding on tightly as you made your way into the apartment building. You quickly pressed for the third floor, not your own. “Goodnight Tim, I had a good time.” You turned to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek before running into the elevator. As the doors closed you could see him, momentarily stunned at the kiss.

You exhaled the second the doors closed. If you were lucky, you wouldn’t be seeing him after this. You’d survived the night, as well as him.

The next few days had been normal, thankfully. You’d been paranoid to a fault, and rightfully so.

Tim Bradford is a cop.

Which meant he had access to so much more than any regular person. He not only knew where you lived from the information he’d collected, but he could search you up. He could find out so much about your life with just a few clicks of a button.

And he did. He utilised his resources to find out as much about you as he could over the week or so since your date. When you’d gone to the bathroom, he’d accessed your phone and was now successfully tracking you. Never leave your stuff with an obsessed cop, am I right?

After the robbery, he couldn’t risk your safety.

But the biggest mystery of all in Tim’s eyes was why you hadn’t called him yet. You’d been working a lot recently, early days and late nights. You needed a break from work. The only places you went which weren’t your workplace or home was your gym.

You were done for the day.

The sweat that you were covered in made you shine in the fluorescent lights of the gym. You couldn’t wait to take a shower, but the gym was currently repairing their facilities so you’d have to wait until home.

If you’d been paying attention to your surroundings rather than yourself you would’ve noticed Tim hovering in the background. You grabbed your waterbottle and made your way to the locker rooms. Patting yourself down with your towel before changing your sweaty clothes into normal clothes. The more laundry the better?

You walked out to your car, blissfully unaware of the shadow following you. As you fiddled with your Airpod case you accidentally let your keys slip through your hands. Sighing in annoyance before bending down to grab them from underneath your car. Not expecting to be met with him once you got up.

“You scared me Tim.” Your hand clutched onto your shirt, over your heart as you rested against your car.

“Sorry. just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I am, thank you for asking. I just… I feel like I’m seeing you everywhere. Like I’ve gone crazy.”

“Maybe it’s a sign.”

“For what?”

“To go out with me? Tonight?” You awkwardly laughed, holding onto the back of your neck. “As much as I’d love to, I’m not really in the market for a partner. I’m sorry. And I’m already going out with friends tonight.” His smile was wide, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “No need to apologise, just figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask. We had such a nice night last time. You looked amazing.”

You felt bad for turning him down, but again, you couldn’t help but think. He never showed up before, but you see him once and now hes everywhere? It didn’t seem right to you. You chuckled dryly, “Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself. And yeah, I meant it as a friendly outing.” As you opened your door, it slammed in front of you.

Tim stood closer than before, and his nice smile and sweet voice seemed so far away. His hand rested on your door, having shut it. “You sure as hell didn’t dress like it was a friendly outing. Go out with me Y/n/n.” Your eyes squinted at his use of your nickname, which you hadn’t told him to use.

“I’m sorry, I just— Oh god.” Your eyes widened behind Tim as his head whipped behind, “What is it?” The door quickly slammed shut as you sat in the drivers seat. Tim turned back, you tricked him. He tried to open the door but you quickly pressed the lock.

“Open the door.”

His voice was low, it was a threat.

You pressed the button to start your car up, not daring to look his way. God knows what you’d be met with. You quickly pulled out of the gyms parking lot, mustering up the courage to look into your rear view mirror.

He wasn’t there.

You couldn’t tell if him not being there was more frightening than comforting. But you did need to put as many miles between you and Tim as possible. A night out with friends would help take your mind off it.

As you came home, you couldn’t help but sigh. The night had been totally exhausting as well as exhilarating. It’d been a while since you’d seen your friends, since your marathon had been cancelled after the attempted robbery. And you had also subconsciously taken Tims advice to not have any friends over.

As much as you hate to admit it, he was right. It was nice to take some time to recuperate and understand what happened before seeing friends. The millions of questions they threw at you tonight were even worse than when they were over the phone.

‘Are you okay?’

‘We don’t have to go out tonight!’

‘We can stay in, order some food?’

‘If you need to talk, I’m here.’

You were definitely grateful to have so many friends that cared about you after something pretty traumatic, but all you wanted was to drink, dance and forget. Which was partially successful. But he wouldn’t leave your mind.

Tim had basically infiltrated your life since you first met him that afternoon. And you had no clue what about you screamed to him, enticed him.

You wracked your brain trying to think about any time you would’ve given him any sort of signal to needing him. To inviting him into your life. And you couldn’t come up with a single sign. Maybe he was just insane?

How could you even get rid of him?

He was a literal cop. When at the station, you couldn’t help but notice how often people talked about him. Whether it was how amazing he was, or how reckless. The overall consensus was that he was a good guy, just a bit odd or impulsive. You couldn’t help but feel bad as well. He’d literally saved you from being hurt, or worse. And when you’d talked to him, he seemed so sweet.

Tim Bradford was respected, and you were just a civilian.

But to Tim? You were so much more. Having you in his arms, fully reliant on him to help save you. He knew you needed him, you just didn’t realise it yet. But he’d help you realise, there was no need to worry. He’d keep you safe, you’d never be in such a situation ever again. He wouldn’t fail you like he failed his ex.

“Had a nice night?”

Your blood ran cold and your bubble of bliss from the night out had effectively been popped. He was in your home. How did he know where you— he’s a cop. He probably knew more about you than you knew. “I did.” Tim stood from your couch, making his way to you.

“Meet anyone?” You shook your head adamantly, “No one Tim.” You needed to play your cards right if you were going to get away from this psycho alive. God knows what he wanted to do or what he was after.

By the time he was in front of you he had you pinned to the wall, right by the hallway. His hands came around your hips, fingers digging in. He smelled your neck, savouring the sweet perfume. “You smell amazing, and you look…” He was practically undressing you with his eyes. “Bet you danced a lot tonight, should take a shower.” Of course you’d love that. Which is what you wanted to say, but with his eyes burning into you?

You couldn’t respond. Not when his hands began to roam, and tug on the strings of your dress. Not when he led you into your bathroom, and let the bath fill up or when he undressed you and himself.

You were practically frozen as he bathed you.

He acted as if it was where he belonged, as if this was a daily occurrence for you and him. You knew you couldn’t get away now,

You were too late and scared of his power.

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