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evie-sturns · 3 months

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swim - Chris Sturniolo

summary: your best friend madi, throws a pool party for her 18th. the nights going smoothly until chris invites you to come inside with him.

warnings: smut, nsfw, swearing, caught having sex,

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the blaring music from inside madis house was drowning out the splashes from inside the pool. i was sitting on the side of the pool next to matt until i feel a hand on my shoulder, followed by him sitting down next to me.

"oh hey chris!" i say chirpily.

the sturniolos have been my best friends for a while now, but chris has always been the person im closest to. i hate to admit it, but ive also had my eyes on him for a few months and he has no idea. i think.

by now matt's left to go get a root-beer from inside, me and chris are left alone sitting by pool, observing all the people swimming.

suddenly my heart skips a beat, chris's veiny hand is resting on my thigh. im only wearing a skimpy white bikini and a variety of gold jewlery. chris's fingers rub the inside of my thighs, making me squirm slightly.

he leans in closer and whispers into my ear "whats wrong y/n? why are ya moving so much." he says teasingly.

he definitely knows what he's doing

"chris." i say quietly, "hm?" he mumbles, squeezing my thigh tighter.

suddenly chris removes his hand from me and stands up, readjusting his shorts, he reaches a hand down and grabs mine, pulling me up onto my feet. he stays silent as he holds my hand, dragging me up the concrete steps and through madis backdoor.

the inside of her house is empty, apart from a few people in her kitchen, "chris? where are we going?" i say softly as chris pauses infront the stairs. "wanna go upstairs?" he says bluntly, but i can tell hes nervous.

"to do what exactly?" i question. sureley he's not implying what i think.

"hang out..?" he lies through his teeth, but i nod anyways, i mean i wouldn't be mad if anything were to happen. he walks up the stairs behind me and i can feel his eyes laying on me. i walk into to the bathroom and stand awkwardly as chris walks in.

his wet hair is sticking to his forehead, as he looks me up and down. he wearing nothing but swim shorts and a chain, and its driving me crazy.

tension grows between us, without warning he walks towards me and grabs my jaw and locks his lips with mine, my heart stops but i subconsciously wrap my arms around his neck, he reaches a hand down and grabs my ass. i pull away for a second to catch my breath, and he takes the opportunity to pick me up and kneel down on the bathroom tiles.

he lays me on my back and kneels between my knees

"is this okay?" he asks, looking in my eyes.

"chris fuck me please" i say attempting to maintain eye contact.

"you're so fucking gorgeous" he mumbles as he pulls my bikini top off from over my head, his eyes widen while im exposed for him. "can i take these off?" he asks, tugging at the waistband of my bikini bottoms and i nod frantically. he pulls them down to my ankles then discards them across the room.

"god your wet" he groans as he circles my clit with his finger, "so perfect." he continues, rubbing my clit faster. i feel the knot in my stomach clenching, my moans intensify as i grip him arm so hard my knuckles go white, suddenly he stops. "chris!" i whine and he smirks slightly "i know i know." he says pulling down his swim shorts, letting his boner spring out.

"oh my god." i groan quietly "can you spread a little more for me princess?" chris says gripping the inside of my thigh and pushing it, forcing me to spread my legs apart, he shifts slightly on his knees so he can come closer to me.

he lines himself up with my entrances and slowly sinks into me, i wince from the stretch "good girl. taking me so well" he praises as he starts to thrust slowly.

"chris oh my god" i moan as he picks up the pace

"im close baby" chris warns as his thrusts become more frantic.

the door to the bathroom swings open. my neck snaps instantly looking to the right at the door, matt nick and madi are all in shock as chris instantly pulls out and yanks up his shorts. pure humiliation floods through me, i feel sorry for chris aswell, his two brothers have just walked in on him pounding into me, their bestfriend.

Madi looks me in the eyes, her eyes are bulging out of her head but she shoots me a quick smirk before instantly swinging her body around and leaving the bathroom, she knows ive liked chris for a while now. im laying naked on the bathroom floor as matt and nick scream and slam the door to the bathroom shut.

chris looks at me in horror before he takes off out of the bathroom, leaving me embarrassed, naked and cold on the floor of Madis bathroom. i instantly stand up and pull on my bikini, tears threatening to fall from my eyes.

i knew chris didnt like me, the look he gave me before he ran off was the only thing on my mind. he was probably just horny.

i sigh loudly before opening the door to bathroom and stepping out into the hallway. i run downstairs and out of the house down the front porch steps. i dont look back as i take off in my car in the direction of my home.

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(1 week later)

i haven't spoken to the sturniolos for a week, i've been utterly ashamed. i've felt used by chris, and humiliated from the fact my 2 best friends saw me like that.

i check the time on my phone, 10:25pm. ive been lying in bed all day, and haven't ate once. with a sigh i heave myself off of my bed and pull on a sweatshirt. i grab my keys and open my bedroom door, walking downstairs and out the front door. my eyes are puffy and red, this whole week ive been crying and dealing with the fact ive just lost 3 friends.

i open the door to my car and climb in, clicking on my seatbealt and pulling out onto the street.

after 10 minutes of driving, i pull into the parking lot of mcdonalds then turn off my car, i walk into the restaurant and my heart drops to my stomach,

nick, matt and chris are standing right before me and staring at me. i lock eyes with every single one of them, my bottom lip quivers and my eyes fill with tears as they continue to look at me. as soon as chris locks eyes with me i spin around and speed-walk out the door. i sprint towards my car and just sit in it for a good 5 minutes.

as soon as i pull into my driveway i see a text, my jaw drops.

chris

i'm coming over, we need to talk.

okay.

i get out of my car, im shaken up as i walk inside my house. i throw myself on the couch and wait.

i jump as my front door creaks open "its just me" chris calls out and i sigh. he walks into the living room and i wave at him, why the fuck did i wave?

he sits down on the couch next to me "im really sorry that happened" he starts "i shoulda locked the door." he says and silence grows.

"is that all?" i say with a small scoff.

"i dont know" he says nervously

"so you're not sorry about leaving me fucking humiliated naked on the bathroom floor then leaving me on delivered for a week?" i shout and chris's eyes widen.

"im so fucking sorry i honestly wasn't thinking" he pauses "and i know this isnt the right time but i really, really like you and i have for a while now" he says quietly and i gasp slightly "you do?"

"was it not obvious.." chris says smiling slightly

a comfortable silence grows between us until i break it, bursting out in sobs. chris jumps slightly before looking at me "hey hey, shit you okay?" chris says pulling me close to him and into his arms.

"sorry.." i say in between sobs

"you're okay, whats wrong sweetheart." he says rubbing my arm

"i just thought i'd lost you."

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i actually dont know if this is good help

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader

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apomaro-mellow · 11 months

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5 times eddie singled out steve during a concert and the one time steve did it back

Corroded Coffin fans were no strangers to the deep love shared between frontman Eddie and his boyfriend Steve. To the point where magazines barely cared to feature any candid pics of them unless Eddie was flipping off the camera. "Two Very in Love People Share a Kiss at Cafe Date" didn't really sell much when it was the 50th story like that.

So when Eddie slowed things down in the middle of the concert, getting that very familiar 'heart eyes' look.

"I know my baby's in the audience. Even though he has a very comfortable room backstage. Show me where you are beautiful." Eddie's voice was slightly rough from the first half of songs.

His eyes scanned the audience until he heard a bunch of screaming from his right. The crowd was vibrating and he knew someone had spotted Steve.

"There you are." Eddie bit his lip, grin threatening to split his face. "This next one's for you."

The crowd was a mix of screams and awws as the beginning melody of It's Always Been You was heard.

2. Another day, another venue. This time, the afternoon crowd at a music festival. It was one of Eddie's favorite kind of scenes. People of all types, letting the music take them in broad daylight. A good mix of diehard fans, casuals, and people who had never heard them play before.

Eddie knew for a fact that Steve was sitting in a little foldable chair, with some drink from one of the booths. He always looked so unassuming with his soft hair and even softer clothes. But Eddie could never let him forget his inner badass. Nor did he let anyone else forget.

"Lil pop quiz for my fans", Eddie started. "One of our fan favorites The Knight's Arrival is inspired by someone very special in my life. Can we get a chant going for the man who has always been my knight in shining armor?"

A very enthusiastic chant for Steve started and Eddie thought his heart might burst. It was like a triumphant reprisal of those times the school would cheer on the ex-king on game night.

3. Sometimes the band put an age restriction on a concert. Now Eddie was of the mind that children didn't need to be coddled or have things censored for them. But also, he didn't need to lay it all out when there was a kid in the audience.

It was these kinds of shows that Eddie let it all hang out. More than one song was inspired by his nights with Steve. His angel's voice even featured on one track, letting out husky moans as Eddie brought him to the brink in the recording booth.

And tonight Eddie was hot. Hot enough to have already taken his shirt off and throw it to the audience. Hot enough that when he went backstage and saw Steve, he was only thinking of one thing. Eddie kissed him deep, tongue licking at the roof of his mouth before a word could leave his lips.

Crash was keeping the audience going with a drum performance. One that started with a simple beat that slowly intensified.

"I want them to hear you", Eddie said against Steve's mouth.

Steve's hair was already tangled in his hair. "You wanna dangle me in front of them?", he smirked.

"Show them you're mine", Eddie started nibbling at his jaw. "Show 'em how good I love you down."

Eddie got the headset mic rigged onto Steve. His sweet boy was already hard, just as turned on from seeing Eddie in his element as he ever was. Eddie slid down to his knees and unzipped his boyfriend's pants.

It started quiet. Not even audible as Crash really got going on the drums and got close to the climax. The room erupted as he reached the end. And it was in the calming of their cheers that they finally began to hear it.

"Eddie, mmmfuck."

They stirred in unison. Steve's voice rang loud and clear as he received a pleasure the rest of them could only speculate on.

"Fuck, sso good. Don't stop. Don't stop-ahh."

For a moment all they heard was Steve's quickening breaths before he called out Eddie's name, dragging it out like he was falling down a well.

Eddie came out moments later, licking something off his lips to cacophonous cheers. The bassline to Take a Bite began. He wished he could've told his high school self that one day he'd get a standing ovation for blowing a guy.

4. "Before we get started tonight I gotta make an announcement!", Eddie came out, already on 100. "First, where's my angel baby. Help me find him."

As usual, a particular part of the audience went wild and moved in a way that could only mean Steve was there.

"Can I get a parting of the Red Sea?", Eddie asked, moving his hands apart and getting that part of the mob to split like Moses. Steve stood there in the middle.

"Get used to that gorgeous. My fellow rockers, scholars, and mischief makers - I am officially a kept man." He flashed the ring on his finger to a din of screams. "Wedding's next fall and we're registered at every corner liquor store! 5-6-7-8!"

5. Eddie felt like he was home. In the middle of a set, shredding in a way that made him feel alive. The current song made it even better. One of the best collaborative efforts of the band. All of their fingerprints were on this track.

The crowd was just as amped up, giving back everything they got. There truly was no place he'd rather be.

Then he caught sight of his Steve, standing just off stage in the wings. And he was overcome. None of this would be possible without him. And even if Eddie and his boys somehow made it to stardom, it all meant nothing without his sweetheart.

Eddie casually walked over, fingers still moving as he got closer to Steve. He only took his hands off his guitar to grab his fiance and dip him as they kissed. Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie's neck. This wasn't his first time being kissed on stage.

And just as other times, the crowd went wild, while Jeff, Gareth, and Crash rolled their eyes through the playing.

6. Steve watched, absolutely lovestruck as Eddie sat on the couch, eating cereal. Dustin's baby, little Deana was propped up on cushions next to him, clearly satisfied as she sat there content. They were uncles babysitting for the weekend.

Steve walked over and grabbed the remote from off the coffee table, holding it like a mic. "All the babes out there, are you ready to rock?", he pointed to Deana.

Her new eyes got large at the movement and sound and her little fists waved in the air.

"But before I go on, I gotta give special love to someone tonight", Steve turned his gaze to Eddie. "To the greatest thing since sliced bread, I could watch you eat Coco Puffs all day."

"You're such a cornball", Eddie beamed, cheeks turning pink. "Can't believe you're doin it in front of a baby."

"Oh, don't tell me the god of rock is getting bashful? So when I wanna shout you out in front of our niece, it's cheesy. But when you call me out in front of thousands-"

"Shut up and kiss me." Eddie put the half finished bowl on the floor and grabbed Steve by the wrist, pulling him right into his lap.

Steve let out a little breath between kisses. "Dustin's gonna have a fit if he finds out we made out in front of his baby."

"What he don't know won't hurt him."

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #can u believe this was inspired by going to a kpop concert?#brains are crazy #but yeah this was born from thinkin of eddie giving a bj backstage #while performing #and everyone hearing steve's moans

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yoona-jnr · 2 months

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Meant To Be - By Ryan McCartan (Musical)

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x Female Reader

Prompt: “I was meant to be yours, we were meant to be one. Don’t give up on me now, finish what we’ve begun.”

A murderer? He can’t be…

Oh, but he is. And he’ll do whatever it takes to make you accept that.

Tags: Slight angst, mentions of sexual themes, heavy dub-con, Sukuna on his own is a warning, modern au, insanely toxic/psychotic boyfriend au

-BANG

Another forceful thud reverberates through the door, causing your head to jolt as his fist connects with the wood. “(Name),” his voice echoes from the other side, the sound of him struggling with the doorknob audible. “Get out of my house!” you shout in response, ensuring your body remains firmly pressed against the door, the only barrier preventing him from getting to you. “Our house, (Name). I can explain.. Just.. open the door.”

It was clear to you that ignoring the softness in his voice was the right decision, no matter how tempting it was. The feeling of betrayal and heartbreak was overwhelming upon realizing that he had deceived you throughout the entire relationship. While he may not have been the most ideal boyfriend, discovering that he had murdered countless people, all while using you as an alibi, was a shocking revelation. You were a fool, a fool who was in love with him.

As you find yourself standing in front of the door to your shared bedroom, you mentally slap yourself for not knowing sooner. The signs were all there, staring, almost taunting you in the face, yet you had failed to connect the dots until now. His habitual late returns, the lingering foul odor that seemed to follow him home from “work”, and the sudden change in his demeanor whenever you asked to use his computer - all now pieces into a disturbing puzzle that had led you straight to where you are now.

“I don’t like playing games, (Name),” he expresses, frustration evident in his voice as he struggles with the doorknob once more. A disapproving click of his tongue escapes his lips as he realizes that you still haven’t unlocked it. “Just.. get out before I call the police.” From inside, he hears your sobs, the pulsing vein on his forehead reflecting the mounting annoyance in his stomach. He was getting angry. It wasn’t his fault your perfect relationship was ruined. After all, he had told you repeatedly to stay away from his private folders. But oh.. you just had to look.

“Baby-” – “DON’T FUCKING CALL ME BABY YOU MURDERER!” Fuck. He clenches his jaw, knuckles turning white from the force of his grip on the knob. “I thought you loved me. But it turns out you were just using me to hide from the cops?! Are you fucking craz-” Before you could continue your tirade, another blow landed on the wooden door, the impact making you flinch.

“Don’t raise your voice at me, woman. Did I not tell you to stay the fuck away from my shit?” He attempts to turn the knob, his annoyance intensifying as he struggles to pry it open. “How can I not raise my voice when all you’ve been doing is lie to me?!” Lie? Oh, how he wished for that to be the case. Initially, it may have been a falsehood. The intention of involving you as an alibi gradually transformed into something more.. self-serving. It became a desire that impelled him to prolong your presence despite only requiring your assistance for a year.

Sukuna releases a heavy sigh, his grip on the handle loosening. “(Name).” – “Please, just go away,” you plead, voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and sadness. Despite the barrier, he can still hear the sound of your cries, slowly tugging at his heart. Would you doubt the authenticity of his emotions if you could feel the turmoil he is experiencing at this moment? No. He’ll show you that despite the lies he may have told- his love for you is genuine.

Going through great lengths to uphold his principles to spare you, even if it meant resisting the urge to harm you like he did with his other victims. Wasn’t that sacrifice- this act of restraint, a true testament to his love for you? He allows you to vent your anger and frustration at him through the door, knowing full well that he could easily break it down if he desired. Can’t you tell how much he loves you from sparing that much?

“I didn’t lie about how I feel towards you.” His mouth twitches. “The only thing that I’ve ever lied to you about was my job, that’s all, nothing else.” Were you really about to make him say all this shit just to get you out of that goddamn room?

“That still doesn’t help the fact that you lied to me for three years, Sukuna. Just.. please leave already. I don’t want to talk to you.” He scoffs. “Do you wanna know what I did? From the moment our relationship started, I stopped killing for fun. I started killing people for YOU.” Sukuna’s patience was wearing thin, evident from his sudden need to justify his actions. “I got rid of them. People who hurt you, every single person that ever tried to get in between us- I didn’t even bother to kill anyone else. I did it for you, for us.”

“..Don’t you understand? You’re mine, and I’m all that you could ever fucking need. So, fuck-” He rests his other hand against the door. “Open the door.. open the door for me baby.. I know you want to. You can’t just abandon me now, not after everything we’ve been through.” The sound of his voice gradually returning to its customary tone sends a shiver down your spine. Why did this have to happen to you? He expects you to open the door, but then what? Easily welcome in the fact that he was a ruthless murderer? You haven’t even introduced him to your parents yet. What would he do if they disapproved of him? Would he resort to killing them as well?

“(NAME)!” Startled by the sound of your name being yelled, you instinctively move away from the door, your eyes fixed on it in disbelief. The doorknob rattles again, but this time with even greater force. “..Open the door, please.” The sudden shift in his volume makes you tremble. He’s gone insane. It becomes clear to you now that this wasn’t your boyfriend. The man on the other side of the wall was a completely different person, devoid of the love of your life. “Open the door (Name).”

Have you been cherishing a lie? The mere thought of it was unbearable as you reached for your phone resting on your bed, trying to unlock it while the fear of him catching you intensified. ‘Please, please, open.’ Was the only thing running through your mind as you struggled with the lock, tears welling up in your eyes the moment you succeeded. “(Name), can we not fight anymore? I know you’re scared baby.. it’s okay.”

Despite your lack of attentiveness, it was obvious from the intensity of his voice that he was both frustrated and desperate to get to you. The way he expressed himself made it seem as though he was teetering on the edge of losing control. You were well aware of his explosive temper when provoked, and it was clear that he was exerting every ounce of self-restraint to prevent himself from resorting to violence.

With trembling thumbs, you hastily open the dial pad, a surge of fear coursing through your veins. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine that you would find yourself in a situation where you needed to call for help from your own boyfriend. The very same person who vowed to protect you from any harm that may come your way. “(NAME)!” He slams his fist against the door. “You’re not calling the cops, are you?” Inhaling sharply, you inadvertently confirm his suspicions by the mere sound of your breath. “Don’t make me come in there.”

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” You sob uncontrollably, not wanting to witness your supposed-to-be husband getting dragged out by the police. He was a murderer, hell, you even hate him for lying to you all those years. Yet just a few hours ago, he was your loving, caring, boyfriend who struggles to show affection, but tries his best for you. “Open. Before I count to three.” shit. Shit. SHIT. SHIT-

You start dialing-

“..one” 1..1

.“Two-“ You hear him speak just as you finish dialing the numbers, anxiously waiting as the phone continues to ring.

“Fuck it.” Sukuna grumbles without prior notice, forcefully propelling the door open with a powerful kick to the knob. With remarkable agility, he catches the door with his hand as it rebounds off the wall, preventing it from dislodging from its original position.

As soon as he enters the room, a wave of terror washes over you, causing you to let out a piercing scream. His usually calm face was now twisted into something much more sinister, making him almost unrecognizable. “If only you fucking listened.” With heavy, stomping steps, he makes his way towards you, and despite your attempts to move out of his path, he grabs you by the waist- effortlessly throwing you onto the bed. “If only you weren’t such an insufferable bitch.”

The impact of his words were sharp, yet it paled in comparison to the sensation of him forcefully holding both of your wrists above your head, while his other yanks the phone out of your grasp. You tremble as you watch him slowly press a finger to his lips, a silent warning.

“110.. What’s your emergency?” A man’s voice resonates through the phone, leaving you stunned as you witness a sinister grin spread across Sukuna’s face, almost relishing in your vulnerability. “Sorry about that,” He begins, his tone oddly friendly. It makes you sick. “My kid accidentally called while she was playing around with my phone.” The man on the other end lets out a weary sigh, another moment of silence passes before he responds, “Sir, please make sure this doesn’t happen again. Your daughter needs to be aware that calling this number has consequences.”

“Will do,” he laughs, observing the way you quietly sobbed. “What was that?” – “Nothing. My kid’s just crying cause she’s scared she might get in trouble for this.” Sukuna warns you again by tightening his grip. “Ah, I understand. My son reacts the same way, always crying as soon as he realizes he’s in trouble,” the man chuckles. “Alright, have a good day sir.” – “You too.”

Beep..

Sukuna hurls your phone across the room, showing no concern for its potential damage as it crashes onto the floor.

“Please, let go- i-it hurts..” He shakes his head, dipping his face in the curve of your neck, tracing the tip of his nose along your skin as he breathed in your scent. He momentarily stops, parting his lips to lick a path up to your chin, sending shivers down your body. Fuck, you hated how your body naturally reacted to him. It felt like a curse, one that you were no longer proud of possessing. “You know I hate hurting you baby.. But you keep testing my fucking patience.”

He emphasizes his words by leveraging his free hand to pry your legs open, positioning himself comfortably in the space between them. Sukuna releases your bruised wrists, repositioning his hand near your head, while the other tenderly strokes your inner thigh. He gives an experimental squeeze, immediately picking up the sound of your breath hitching. “Oh?” He lets out a deep, sinister chuckle. “Don’t tell me you’re getting wet from this?” Leaning in closer, he spreads your legs even more as he presses against you. “Didn’t take you for someone who likes it this rough.”

Your faces were now inches apart, his smile only growing wider as he observes the way you make an attempt to divert your attention elsewhere- anywhere but on him. “Then again..” he mutters, slowly sliding his hand closer to your center, clicking his tongue the moment he realizes you were wearing nothing but one of his shirts and underwear. “You always did like being treated like a toy in bed, hmm..?”

“Tell me,” he gently pulls at your underwear, making you hiccup, tears continuing to flow from your eyes. “Did you wear this just for me.. With the thought of having my dick shoved right in this tight pussy?” You shake your head, tilting it slightly to the side to avoid any unintended eye contact.

“Tsk.” Unimpressed, he firmly grips your face, forcing you to meet his gaze while his hands skillfully slips underneath your underwear. “Why don’t I make it up to you, yeah?” He shoves a finger in, hissing from the sensation of your arousal coating his digit so easily. “I’ll fuck you to the point you start losing your mind as an apology.. How does that sound, princess?”

Author’s Note: No part two will be made as this was a test to see if I could still write sexual stories. (It’s been years my brain’s literally decomposing as I type.) But, if you guys like shit like this then I’ll make more. This time with completed smut!

Sorry for edging you guys 😔🙏

#jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna angst #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader smut

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kvtie444 · 4 months

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⋆‧₊˚ TEACHERS PET .6

summary: Reader has a new teacher and finds herself falling for him blahblahblah teachers pet by melanie vibes xoxo this ones a rollercoasterrrrr

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

I found myself in a state of stress, perched on the edge of tears, surrounded by the chaos of my bedroom. Tonight was the much-anticipated date with Matt, and the looming question of what to wear weighed heavily on my mind. After researching the place, a boujee sushi spot with a dress code, I finally settled on a white mini dress. Its front cutout detail with a small drawstring and long mesh sleeves seemed to strike the perfect balance. Slipping into my heels, I took a deep breath before facing the mirror.

In an effort to maintain a low profile, Matt had booked an Uber for me, a wise move to avoid being seen by fellow students. As the Uber arrived, I got in, offering a smile to the driver. With every passing moment, my heartbeat intensified, reaching a crescendo as we pulled up to the restaurant. Stepping out, my heels clacked against the floor as I looked up to see Matt by the lobby. He sported a black knit jumper and black bottoms, a silver chain peeking out beneath. He looked unreal.

Our eyes locked, and a smirk formed on his lips as he walked toward me. "Shit," he chuckled to himself, enveloping me in a tight hug, gently swaying me. "What?" I laughed against his chest, pulling away to look at him. His hands rested on my waist, mine around his shoulders, keeping us close. "You're so fucking beautiful," his gaze seemingly mesmerised by my presence. I smiled, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "All you, handsome," I whispered, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips. Pulling away, I noticed a smudge of my lipstick on him, wiping it with my thumb and letting it linger on his bottom lip for a moment. His hands moved lower to my hips.

"Come on," I said, playfully smacking his cheek and taking his hand. He led me to our table, pulling out my chair. Sitting down, I couldn't help but admire the beautiful restaurant. I heard him breathe out a laugh, and I turned my gaze back to him, puzzled. "What are you thinking about?" he asked, looking into my eyes. Those moments never failed to give me butterflies. I bit my cheek before speaking up, "I've just never been to a restaurant this nice, or a date for that matter, in fact," I admitted. He cocked his head slightly, surprised. "No guys have tried taking you out?" he asked. I shook my head, "All college boys think a date is sitting in their car listening to shitty trap music." He laughed, and I couldn't help but feel a bit like melting into a puddle at the sound.

The waiter came by, and we ordered our sushi platters and he brought our drinks. "When was your last date, then?" Matt asked me, sipping his drink. I screwed my face, smiling slightly, almost cringing, "Over a year ago. I've never really been in an actual committed relationship at all," I confessed, biting my lip in embarrassment. He gave me a half-smile, silently circling the rim of his glass with his pointer finger - odd. "You?" I asked. He looked up at me, licked his lips, and sighed. "I was engaged three years ago, found out she was cheating on me with her boss, saw some other people, and my last date was probably around four months ago," he revealed. oh. My jaw almost dropped, a wave of sadness washing over me. I had been tutored by him just four months ago, and he was engaged? Was he fully over her, or was I just a rebound?

"Y/n?"

I blinked and looked back up to Matt. Forcing a smile, I tried to brush off the awkwardness. "How was your day?" I changed the topic. "Good, now what's wrong?" he replied sternly. I sighed, not wanting to appear insecure in front of him. I didn't want him to see me as some immature girl, like his student. Taking a deep breath, I asked, "Where do you see this going? Us?" I looked anywhere but his eyes. A warm hand placed itself on top of mine, and I looked at Matt. "Y/n, I really like you. When you ghosted me, it drove me crazy. I mean, shit, you still drive me crazy. Like that dress, your voice, your perfume, fuck, just you in general. And I don't want other people looking at my girl the same way," he confessed. A warm smile crept onto my face, and I almost felt like crying - that was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me.

"And I want this to be exclusive. I mean, obviously, we can't be super public about it, but I want it to just be me and you, no one else," he continued. My jaw slightly dropped, "Matt." I tilted my head at him as he licked his lips, waiting for a reply. His fingers were drumming against the table, a small tapping noise barely audible. "Of course," I smiled, putting my hand over his and squeezing. He smiled back toothily, bringing my hand up to his lips and peppering kisses all over.

"Tell me about your day," he mumbled against my knuckles. "Long, was stressed out picking an outfit," I replied. "Mm," he hummed against my skin, pressing another kiss.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

After concluding our dinner, where Matt made a persistent attempt at capturing candid photos of me, we engaged in a light-hearted argument over who's paying - me begging to at least split it - before he paid for the meal and left a tip. Exiting the restaurant, we strolled towards the car, where Matt turned me around, facing him, and pinned my back against the car door. His smile radiated down at me as he leaned in, and despite my best effort to lean back impossibly, a smile adorned my face.

"Matt, I just had raw fish, I stink," I laughed. Unfazed, he chuckled, "I don't care," before leaning down and pressing a kiss to my lips. His hand remained on my waist as he opened the car door for me, guiding me inside before joining himself. The engine purred to life, and I swiftly turned on the sound system, syncing it with whatever song was playing on Matt's playlist. "Back to yours?" I asked, looking over at him. He hummed in agreement as he started to drive, the quiet hum of a guitar playing in the background, marking the beginning of our journey.

As we sped down the highway, feeling too warm, I decided to open the windows. Matt looked over, smiling at me, my hair now dancing in the wind. Suddenly, a familiar strum played, and I couldn't believe it. Matt listened to Cigarettes After Sex. Grinning widely, I spoke up, "I love this song," to which he replied, "Yeah?" I nodded and began singing the lyrics, Matt glancing over with an almost literal sparkle in his eyes, pupils dilated, joining in the song almost imperceptibly.

Leaning in, I grabbed the side of his head, singing, "Think I like you best when you're just with me and no one else," and pressed a kiss to his cheek before pulling away, laughing. "You remind me of this song, you know," Matt spoke up, and I turned back to look at him. "You look like a Cigarettes After Sex song" he continued as we slowed down, stopping at a red light.

It took all my willpower not to confess my feelings right then and there. I couldn't let my emotions run wild; I was falling too fast. I smiled as the red light turned green, and we started moving again, the enchanting night unfolding before us.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

2 months later

"Morning," Matt greets in his morning voice, planting a soft kiss at the base of my neck. I turn to face him, running my fingers over his tattoos. "Morning," I whisper back, and he leans down to kiss me gently, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "You're so beautiful, angel," he murmurs, his blue eyes locking onto mine. I chuckle, but my mood shifts as I remember I have a sociology lecture day. I groan, running my hands over my face, and Matt pulls my wrists away, concern all over his face. "What's wrong?" he asks.

"Sociology lecture today," I groan, and his concern transforms into a smirk. "I think you should be excited to see your teacher; he's kinda hot," he teases. I giggle, responding, "Hmm, I don't know; he kinda stinks." Matt smirks, leaning in. Unable to contain my giggles, I feel a rush of excitement as he tightly grabs my waist, initiating a quick succession of kisses – lips, nose, jaw, down to my neck. Leaning back up, he looks at me - he looks so beautiful. "I love you." I blurt out. Fuck.

There's a pause, my stomach dropping, but then Matt breaks into a smile. "I love you, Y/N," he replies, kissing me again. Every kiss makes me feel like putty at his touch. He trails kisses down my neck, nibbling and sucking lightly, eliciting a small moan from me. "You like that, princess?" he coos.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Heading to my lecture, I had just hurriedly returned home to freshen up, eager to encounter Matt once more at college. While strolling through the park, my phone vibrated, and I paused to check the email from the school.

Dear: Y/n L/n

We would like to speak to you during your sociology lesson today in class 1W 3.30 to discuss this further.

Thank you.

Bit of a late notice.

Entering the classroom, I open the door and am surprised to find Matt, the head lady from before, and about six other people – presumably the school board – gathered around. With only one empty seat, I take it, with Matt to my left. Sighing, I anticipate this is about my tardiness to lectures, not wanting to endure their lectures on therapist recommendations and resources.

One of the women speaks up, "Y/n L/n, Matthew Sturniolo, it’s come to our attention that an affair has been going on between you, a professor, and his student." My stomach drops. How do they know? I'm rendered speechless, physically. I glance over at Matt; his expression is impassive, as if he saw this coming. What the fuck? I attempt to speak, "Wha-" but get cut off. "We were doing our camera checks, it’s routine. We found footage of you two… intimate," she explains. When did we ever engage in such on-campus escapades? Shit.

"Would you like it to be a one-time thing?"

"No."

That was all Matt needed to hear before he pulled me into a passionate kiss. I stumbled back slightly as he walked with me, pushing me up to sit on a desk.

Tears stream down my cheeks as I recall that encounter, silently blaming myself. "Matthew, unfortunately, your role here will be terminated immediately," she continues. Matt simply nods in silence. "No, you can’t just fire him; it was me," I speak up, my voice croaky. "As for you, you will face the school board on the 25th, where we will take this further and decide your future at this school." My heart shatters, and I can't help but let out a sob, the only sound breaking the silence in the room.

"Y/n, were you coerced into any of these acts?" one of the others asks. "No, I wasn't fucking coerced," I spit. "Don't blame him; it was all me," I continue, my voice breaking as I stand up from my chair, the legs scratching against the floor. "I’ll have all my stuff ready to leave by tonight," Matt says blankly. I furrow my brows. "Miss L/n, I understand you’re distraught right now, but please just-" the lady continues, but all sound goes blurry.

I walk out of the room. Feeling sick, I step outside for fresh air, breathing becoming harder as I clutch my chest. I'm on the brink of a panic attack, my sobs now uncontrollable. I hear a door open next to me; it's Matt. He walks straight past me and to the car park. I follow him, "Matt, please, talk to me," I choke out. He ignores me, "Matt, please, I'm begging you," I continue. Ignored. "You told me you fucking loved me this morning!" I yell, drawing attention from others. He turns around to look at me, now right outside his car. "Y/n, don't," he mutters. "I don't care, Matt. What the fuck, I mean, are you seriously gonna just ghost me?" I cry out. There’s a brief pause. "We’re done," he spits at me, turning and getting in his car. I watch him start his engine, uncontrollably sobbing. He doesn’t even look back at me; he just drives away.

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

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kingofbodyrolls · 3 months

Text

Stuck at a Christmas party (m) | pjm

*Part of ’the winter collection’.

Summary: It’s Seokjin’s Christmas party and you’re trying your best to be social with your friends, but it’s really hard when you feel the burning stare of your nemesis, Park Jimin, lighting your skin on fire. It doesn’t help when you feel his hand between your legs under the dinner table.

Pairing: Jimin x female reader AU + genres: enemies to lovers, pwp (very little plot – let me be honest, it’s just pure smut). Humor/crack, smut. Rating: Mature/explicit/R18 - this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact. Word count: 5,1K Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 Warnings (explicit): exhibitionism, fingering, oral (male receiving), orgasm denial, cum eating, creampie, unprotected sex, choking (in a sexual context), degrading name calling (brat), hair pulling, dirty talk, multiple orgasms.

Taglist: @yopjm

Author’s note: the snowstorm couple are back!!! 🥳 For reference, please think of GDA 2019 Jimin with his sleek black suit when reading this 🥵

ℹ️ This is part of ‘The Winter Collection: Stories with the Snowstorm Couple’, it can still be read as a stand-alone though!

I am going on a hiatus, but I wanted to post this before I left…

As you stand there, befuddled and speechless, you can't fathom how Seokjin deduced the intimate encounter between you and Jimin, your mortal enemy. The questions swirl in your mind—how, what, and why—leaving you utterly mystified.

Rage simmers within you, and you clench your hands into tight fists, resembling an enraged child ready to lash out. However, before you can unleash your fury, Jimin beats you to the punch with a nonchalant explanation, “We got cold.”

Your jaw drops once more as Jimin strolls past you and Seokjin, casually hanging his coat on the rack and discarding his shoes. He carries himself as though what transpired between you is the most ordinary thing in the world.

Seokjin's laughter, that annoying windshield wiper sound, echoes in the air. It grates on your nerves, and the urge to smack him for it intensifies. However, he ushers you inside, and with a frustrated sigh, you release your petty thoughts, letting your shoulders slump in resignation.

“Not a word to the others!” you hiss, jabbing your finger forcefully in Seokjin's face. It's crucial to drive the point home; the last thing you need is for the rest of your friends to find out. The mere thought of enduring their endless teasing is unbearable.

Seokjin mimics zipping his mouth shut with exaggerated hand gestures, and you shoot him a stern glare for good measure, silently urging him to grasp the gravity of your seriousness.

Seokjin accompanies you into the living room, where Jimin lounges on a couch, wearing that infuriatingly smug expression. Despite the lingering resentment, he acknowledges you with a subtle nod, licking his lips teasingly. A shiver snakes down your spine at the suggestive gesture, and you can't shake the feeling that this evening is destined to be nothing short of torturous.

The music pulses through the air, creating a lively atmosphere that encourages conversation with friends. Despite the chatter and laughter around you, there's an undeniable sensation of being watched. Your attempts to catch up with girlfriends are accompanied by the persistent feeling of a gaze, like smoldering embers, leaving your skin tingling with heat.

It's Jimin, his captivating dark brown eyes following your every move, setting you ablaze amidst the festive chaos.

Despite your best efforts to steer clear of him throughout the evening, the inevitable moment arrives when dinner is served. The grand table is a vision of Christmas elegance, adorned with festive ornaments and pristine white plates boasting delicate gold rims. As you approach, the once plentiful seats have dwindled, leaving only two vacant spots side by side. The realization hits you like a silent shock – everyone is settled in their places, except for one person: Park Jimin.

A smirk dances on Jimin's lips as your eyes lock, and with a gentlemanly flourish, he pulls out the chair for you. The attention of your friends is inevitably drawn to the unfolding scene, their curious glances making you squirm. You take your seat, feeling the weight of Jimin's gaze as he elegantly settles his perfect plump ass in the chair beside you.

Amidst the lingering stares and unspoken questions, you divert your attention to the spread before you, purposefully loading your plate with an array of delectable dishes. The clinking of cutlery becomes a welcome distraction, and for a brief moment, you find solace from the constant scrutiny of Jimin's eyes that have tracked your every move since you arrived.

Engulfed in the lively chatter around the table, you savor each bite while selectively tuning in to the diverse conversations unfolding. The clinking of cutlery and the hum of laughter weave a symphony that, for a moment, allows you to lose yourself in the festive atmosphere.

Your senses tingle as a warm sensation caresses your thigh, an unmistakable touch that sends a jolt of awareness through your entire being.

A rush of longing surges through you, an electric pulse that ignites every nerve, and without needing to glance down, you're keenly aware of Jimin's hand, a potent source of warmth, intimately tracing the contour of your thigh. As he gives it a firm, possessive squeeze, you close your eyes, surrendering to the tantalizing dance of desire that envelops you.

A relentless wave of need courses through you, the mere touch of Jimin's hand on your thigh igniting a fiery pool of arousal in your core. It's almost absurd, the intensity of your response—his hand, just on your thigh, and yet it feels as if the entire universe has conspired to stoke the flames of desire within you.

His attention remains fixed on the conversation with Namjoon, his eyes avoiding yours, but the impact of his touch on your thigh is impossible to ignore. The simple act of eating becomes an insurmountable challenge as his hand, like a brand, leaves an indelible mark on your senses. The silk of your dress offers little resistance to the searing heat emanating from his touch, rendering the task of composing yourself an elusive feat.

You grit your teeth, attempting to conceal your mounting frustration, and in a clandestine exchange of glances with Seokjin seated across from you, you're convinced he sees right through the charade. Damn it all.

Jimin's hands persist in their exploration, journeying beneath your dress and ascending higher on your thigh. A stifled gasp escapes your lips, your attempt to conceal the pleasure coursing through you as his fingers delicately trace the contours of your panties.

Your mind races as he inches perilously close to your core, your pussy pulsating with anticipation. Damn, the intensity of the sensation is overwhelming.

His apparent nonchalance fuels your frustration. How can he engage in casual conversation with Namjoon, seemingly unfazed, while his hand stealthily explores the contours of your thigh beneath the table? The audacity, especially in the midst of your friends, leaves you seething with a mix of desire and irritation.

His fingers delicately dance over the fabric that shields your pulsating core, sending a shiver down your spine. Conflicting desires surge within you – an undeniable craving for his touch and the hesitation born from the inappropriate setting, surrounded by the prying eyes of your friends.

With deliberate slowness, he trails his fingers along the edge of your panties, expertly sliding them to the side. A single finger ventures into your slick folds, and an involuntary exclamation of desire escapes your lips. Fuck!

Panic and pleasure collide within you as your body ignites with an uncontrollable fire. Fumbling for composure, you desperately try to conceal the intoxicating sensations Jimin's hand is orchestrating beneath the table. Casting a surreptitious glance at your friends, relief washes over you—it appears they remain oblivious to the clandestine dance Jimin is leading on your fevered skin. Thank god.

Your entire being tenses as an electric current courses through you, a silent struggle unfolding within as you grapple with the urge to control your escalating breaths, ensuring each intake is hushed and every gasp remains concealed.

Jimin's fingers expertly plunge in and out of you, a relentless rhythm that leaves you quivering in your seat. The addition of a second digit amplifies the sensations, intensifying the shivers that course through you. Fuck you, Park Jimin!

You shoot him an incredulous look, but he remains unfazed, deep in conversation with Namjoon as if his fingers aren't skillfully working their magic on you. Frustration bubbles within you, the tightening knot in your stomach threatening to unravel. Shit.

His fingers abandon your pulsating core, and just when you dare to hope for a reprieve, he redirects his attention to your swollen clit. Electric jolts course through your body, and an involuntary flinch escapes you, catching the curious gaze of your friends. The intensity of his touch threatens to betray the secrets you're desperately trying to keep under wraps.

“Are you okay?” Concern etches across Hoseok's face as he leans in, his voice laced with worry. His eyes search yours, dissecting the panic in your stare and the sudden gasp that escaped your lips.

Summoning every ounce of strength, you lift your chin and strive for confidence as you reply, “Y-yes.”

Even as the words leave your lips, their uncertainty rings in your ears, a desperate plea that he won't press for more answers.

The sensation of Jimin's fingers expertly tracing figure eights on your clit sends electric chills down your entire body. Your thighs clench involuntarily, and you find yourself biting your lip, desperately trying to stifle any sounds that might betray the pleasure coursing through you. It's a delicate dance between ecstasy and secrecy, his skilled touch weaving a spell that makes it increasingly difficult to maintain your composure.

As Jimin's fingers work their magic, your heart races, and the sensation is akin to running a marathon. A lone bead of sweat forms on your hairline, evidence of the intensity building within you. Fuck Jimin, unraveling you like this in front of your friends. The promise of payback simmers in your mind, determined to teach him a lesson he won't soon forget.

As your breath quickens, the telltale signs of impending release manifest—quivering thighs betraying your desperation.

You're on the verge, yearning to pry Jimin's hand away from your pulsating core. The last thing you want is to climax in front of your friends; the situation is already precarious. Imagining their potential disgust only adds to the thrill.

The forbidden allure of the moment perplexes you—why does the idea of their judgment fuel your arousal?

Despite your futile attempts to swat his hand away, Jimin remains resolute, intensifying his efforts to push you over the edge. A determined glint in his eyes, he skillfully manipulates your senses. As he continues to stimulate your clit, a rush of liquid heralds your surrender, leaving you slumped against the table, your body succumbing to the waves of pleasure.

An electric surge courses through your body, causing every muscle to tighten, your clit pulsating beneath his expert touch. Desperately trying to collect yourself and avoid drawing attention, you navigate the fine line between pleasure and discretion.

Yoongi's concern cuts through the haze, and he observes, “Are you alright? You seem out of it.”

A quiet, low moan escapes your lips, and in that moment, you become acutely aware of how disheveled and spent you must appear—fatigued and lost in a dazed gaze. Rising from your chair, Jimin's hand reluctantly withdraws from your core, and as your dress gracefully descends with your movement, you manage to murmur, “T-toilet,” your chest heaving with the lingering waves of lust.

In a frenzied hurry, you bolt into the bathroom, your hands gripping the edge of the sink, and you confront your disheveled, panting reflection in the mirror. It feels pathetic, the way Jimin effortlessly coaxed an orgasm from you under the table, using only his fingers. The realization hits hard – you are undeniably and thoroughly fucked.

Inhaling deeply, you attempt to steady yourself just as the bathroom door creaks open, heralding the impending return to the outside world.

As you gaze into the mirror, the source of your overwhelming frustration materializes before you: none other than Park Jimin.

You emit a hiss, a potent blend of frustration and arousal, as your eyes lock with his. Despite the turmoil, you can't deny the magnetic pull of his irresistible gaze, a look saturated with sin, his eyes half-lidded, and his tongue seductively gliding across his lips.

You sense your core clenching with a frustrating ache, an insistent reminder of desire for the infuriating man you both despise and secretly crave.

He teasingly presents his fingers to you, wiggling them suggestively as a sly grin plays on his lips, “You came.”

Your gaze locks onto him in utter disbelief—did he stroll around casually with your essence adorning his fingers?

“Suck them dry,” he commands, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he surveys the aftermath—your flushed cheeks and the deep rhythm of your breaths.

His words linger in the air, a challenge you're quick to accept. Without hesitation, you wrap your lips around his digits, tasting the remnants of your essence. His low groan reverberates as he watches you skillfully suck him dry, a silent dance of desire between you.

With each deliberate suck, you reclaim every trace of your essence from his fingers. When the task is accomplished, you fix him with an intense gaze, a silent challenge in your eyes, daring him to unleash the pent-up desire that simmers between you.

“Can’t stop thinking about me?”

Your gaze locks with his, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you bat your lashes, feigning a sense of dominion you both know is illusory. He meets your challenge with a smug smirk, dragging his tongue over his lips, and in that moment, the taste of him floods your senses, a lingering memory that refuses to be forgotten.

You want more so you decide to match Jimin's honesty with your own vulnerability. As the words escape your lips, confessing, 'I can't get you out of my head either,' a gust of candid truth hangs in the air. The charged atmosphere between you two becomes palpable, an electric tension that leaves you yearning, your desperation laid bare.

With a sultry whisper, you proposition him, your voice dripping with desire. Your eyes linger provocatively on the pronounced bulge in his pants as you suggest, “I can suck you off. It’s the least I can do.”

He skillfully unbuckles his belt, swiftly unzips his pants, and sensually lowers both his trousers and underwear, unveiling his throbbing, substantial dick that eagerly springs forth.

Your tongue darts out to moisten your lips, the lingering taste of him still fresh in your memory, and an undeniable yearning builds within you, an insatiable desire to descend upon him just as you did in the heated confines of the car a mere few hours ago.

He strides purposefully toward the toilet, ceremoniously lowering the seat, and with a provocative gesture, positions himself on it, legs enticingly spread, an open invitation for you to draw near and indulge in the feast of his dick.

You swiftly descend to your knees on the welcoming warmth of Seokjin's floor, grateful for the cozy indulgence of heated tiles. Running your tongue across your lips, you seize his throbbing cock with a determined hand, evoking a hiss of pleasure from his lips.

“Fuck! I missed you.”

“It's only been a few hours, Jimin,” you chuckle before enveloping his pulsating dick in your saliva-coated warmth. He fills your mouth perfectly, and you establish a steady rhythm, savoring the delicious anticipation in the air.

You skillfully handle what can't fit in your mouth, teasing with your hand. Jimin throws his head back, emitting a delicious moan in response to your artistry. Sucking him off with an intensity that borders on desperation, you flatten your tongue and expertly play with his frenulum, eliciting a hiss and soft moan from him.

With a firm grip on your hair, he tugs at your ponytail once more. Drool drips from your mouth as you glide over his cock, expertly hollowing your cheeks to create the perfect suction.

His fingers tighten in your hair, urging you further. Breathing in and out through your nose, you navigate down to his pubic hairs, humming sensually around his dick. The subtle shiver you feel from him fills you with a sense of pride, knowing the impact you're having on him.

“Fuck. You’re so good,” he moans, pulling your hair tighter in his grip, the raw desire in his voice sending shivers down your spine.

“Shit, I’m close already,” he gasps, his voice breathy with anticipation, and you can sense the pulsating urgency of his cock in your mouth, signaling that he's on the brink of release.

Unexpectedly, you withdraw from his throbbing cock, leaving him suspended on the precipice of release. His eyes widen in disbelief, watching as you sensually lick your lips, a spark of mischief and fiery playfulness dancing in your gaze.

“Brat. Finish what you started!”

His demand hangs in the air, laden with urgency, but you defiantly shake your head, a smug smirk playing on your lips. In this tantalizing game of desire, you've decided to level the playing field, returning the favor with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

With a sly smirk stretching across your face, you assertively declare, “No.” Your lustful desire is unmistakable as you deliberately pull away, leaving him hanging. “You made me come in front of our friends, embarrassing me. So now,” you add with determined confidence, “you don't get to come.”

As you swing the door open, you exit, leaving him in the bathroom, his fully erect dick on full display, a silent challenge echoing in the air.

“Fucking brat!” His voice reverberates through the air, a raw and frustrated yell, trailing after you as you make your exit.

A mischievous laughter escapes your lips, an odd mix of satisfaction and empowerment swirling within you. Striding back to the table with your friends, you effortlessly dive back into the conversation, as if leaving Jimin high and dry is just another casual move in your repertoire.

There's a subtle thrill in knowing that maybe, just maybe, you've imparted a lesson on not messing with you.

After a few minutes, Jimin saunters back to the table, and you can't help but notice the lingering outline of his arousal beneath his pants. Apparently, he didn't tend to his needs as you assumed he would. The intrigue in the air grows thicker, adding a layer of curiosity to the already charged atmosphere.

The remainder of the evening unfolds without any further advances from Jimin, and despite the undeniable tension in the air, you manage to restrain yourself, keeping your hands to yourself. The pulsating undercurrent of arousal lingers, fueled solely by the magnetic pull of Jimin's presence.

Dinner concludes, and after lending a hand with the cleanup, the music swells to an even higher volume, enticing people to the dance floor. Amid the lively atmosphere, you join in the dance with your girlfriends, playfully swaying your hips to the rhythm. The pulsating energy is infectious, but beneath the neon lights and thumping beats, you sense Jimin's intense gaze fixed on yours once more.

Sensations of arousal ignite within you, yearning for a more intimate connection that goes beyond the pulsating dance floor. Amidst the crowd, you feel a magnetic pull, a desire for his crotch to be the one you're grinding against. However, such an encounter isn't suitable in the presence of your friends. Suddenly, Jimin materializes on the dance floor, seizing your hand and drawing you into a close embrace. His warm breath grazes your ear as he utters, “Come with me, brat.”

He pulls you away from the pulsating crowd of friends, a flicker of distress in your eyes, yet a clandestine thrill seeping through your veins. The covert glances from your friends affirm that they caught the provocative scene. With determination, he leads you into a secluded room, the door securing your privacy with a decisive click.

His eyes blaze with an inferno of lust, an intensity that borders on fury. There's a dangerous edge to his gaze, and he licks his lips with a hunger that suggests he's poised to consume you whole.

“Some nerve you have,” he begins, a low growl in his voice as he presses you backward, drawing you closer to a waiting bed, its presence dawning on you like an ominous realization.

Nervousness courses through your body, a relentless tide, as he exerts control over you with the sheer dominance of his presence.

“Leaving me like that, you fucking brat,” he hisses, forcefully pushing you down onto the bed.

Despite your nerves, a chuckle escapes your lips, “Well, I think it was only fair.”

“Do you?” he raises an eyebrow, his face hovering dangerously close to yours, the air thick with anticipation.

“Fuck. What do you do to me?” he murmurs, diving in to kiss your lips. Your hands instinctively find his cheeks, and you melt into the soft, plush sensation of his mouth, lost in the intoxicating dance of his lips.

Instantly, your body relaxes, and you wrap your legs around his waist, provocatively pressing your core against his erect dick, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from him.

“I could say the same to you,” you pant, “and I don't even like you. I don't understand,” you murmur between kisses, grappling with the conflicting emotions that the intensity of the moment brings.

“But I want you. Damn it, I want you to fuck me so bad,” you confess with a breathless mixture of desire and urgency, punctuating your words with a daring roll of your hips, leaving no room for ambiguity about your craving for him.

“Fuck.”

He unbuckles his belt with a purpose, the metallic clink resonating with the promise of what's to come. Swiftly, he unzips his pants and skillfully lowers them along with his underwear, gracefully joining you on the bed with a hunger in his eyes.

His arousal is evident, his dick appearing more heated and flushed than ever. The crimson hue tells a tale of the desire he harbors, heightened by your previous act of leaving him hanging and hungry for more.

“You’re such a brat. I’ll fuck you senseless.” His voice, a sultry promise, sends shivers down your spine. With a self-assured stroke of his dick, he spreads your legs, deftly teasing your underwear aside.

Hovering above you, his breath dances on your skin as he murmurs in your ear, “I’m going to shut that pretty mouth of yours up.”

Your body quivers in response as he deftly lifts your legs over his shoulders. In this moment, he appears both commanding and delicate, a paradox you can't help but be drawn to. As your moans escape, his eyes light up, as if you hold the key to his universe. Yet, the bitter truth remains—you are enemies, drowning in mutual hatred despite the intensity of the desire that binds you.

His fingers dance over your sensitive folds, ensuring the cascade of wetness that engulfs you. You're a river in anticipation, and he chuckles, pulling back a glistening digit to savor your essence. His words, whispered with satisfaction, echo in the room, “You taste so good.”

You moan, your body craving his touch, and impatiently inquire, “What's the hold up?”' as you yearn for him to fulfill his promise to ravish you.

In the dim light, he chuckles down at you, gripping his hard dick once more and skillfully aligning it with your eager entrance. The head of his cock nudges your folds, eliciting a desperate mewl of pleasure from your lips. Despite the intense disdain you harbor for him, all you crave now is to feel him deep inside you.

With a powerful thrust, he impales you on his dick, plunging deep into your core with reckless abandon. A primal scream of his name tears from your throat, echoing in the room, encapsulating the sheer intensity of the moment. “Fuck, Jimin!”

His grin turns wicked, a hint of danger in his eyes, as he accelerates, showing no mercy and denying you any chance to acclimate. Every powerful thrust widens and fulfills you in the most exquisite way, leaving you breathless and aching for more.

Though mere hours have passed, the yearning for his dick consumes your thoughts. The magnetic pull of his desire leaves your mind shrouded in dangerous fantasies that dance provocatively through the corridors of your consciousness.

“Fuck, you’re still so tight.”

Moans of pleasure escape his lips, breathless and raw, as he utters your name in a fevered whisper. Holding your legs aloft, he thrusts into you, skillfully navigating the depths, each movement a calculated dance that hits your soft spot with precision, sending ripples of ecstasy through your body.

His intoxicating scent envelops your senses, a heady mix of musk that clouds your mind. The rhythmic dance of his tie brushing against your dress on your tummy mirrors the cadence of his thrusts.

Amidst the tumultuous waves of pleasure, you find yourself caught in a paradox of conflicting emotions. “Fuck, Jimin. I hate you. I don't understand,” you blabber, your words intertwining with the rhythmic surges of arousal coursing through your body. With each relentless thrust, the coil in your stomach tightens, weaving a complex tapestry of desire and disdain.

“I do,” he utters, punctuating his words with a forceful thrust that reverberates through your core, causing a symphony of sensations to cascade through your body.

“You like me, that's why,” he pants, each powerful thrust resonating through your pussy, an electrifying dance of pleasure and desire. It's a truth you're reluctant to acknowledge, and as your heart races, you turn your head away, unable to meet his intense gaze, even as your body betrays your feelings.

“No, no, you look at me while I fuck you, brat,” he seethes with anger. He presses himself down on you, your legs parting to rest on the sides of his arms. His hands find their way around your throat, giving it a light squeeze as he maintains the fast pace of his hard thrusts. The intensity in his eyes matches the fervor of the moment, a collision of passion and dominance that leaves you breathless.

He forces you to turn your head toward him, and the grip on your throat tightens even more. “Just admit that you like me, brat,” he demands, his voice a potent blend of authority and desire, making your heart race as you navigate the thin line between resistance and surrender.

Your mind swirls in a hazy mist, a product of his presence or the firm grip around your neck — it's hard to discern. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, there's an undeniable thrill that courses through you, a strange liking for the intoxicating blend of dominance and desire.

Released from his grasp, you inhale desperately, your breaths echoing the tumultuous whirlwind of emotions within. With the tightening coil in your stomach, you reluctantly admit, “Fine... I don't hate you.”

His hands reclaim your throat, a firm grip that mingles pleasure and restraint, synchronized with the rhythmic precision of his thrusts hitting every exquisite spot within you. “That's not good enough, brat,” he growls, his control both intoxicating and exhilarating.

“I know you like me, because your body tells me so,”

“I know you like it when I choke you, because you clench so much around me when I do,”

“Your body can’t lie, brat.”

Holy fuck. He’s right. At least in some parts. Your mind is a tempest of desire, clouded with thoughts of him, and suddenly you’re screaming, the sound muffled by his firm hands around your throat. Your body spasms uncontrollably, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing around his pulsating dick.

“Fuck. Yeah, cream my dick, brat.” he maintains his relentless thrusts, your orgasm surging through you like a wild storm, leaving you with a symphony of sensations and a loud ringing sound in your ears.

His hands finally release their grip on your neck, and you find yourself panting for air, gasping his name with a mixture of desperation and lust, “J-Jimin, fuck.”

“You’re doing so good. Even if you behave like a brat. Fuck. I’m so close.”

And then his thrusts become erratic and even more frantic, as he desperately seeks his own climax.

“Fuck, Jimin, just like that!” you scream as he relentlessly targets your sweet spot, igniting the familiar coil in your stomach once more. Fuck.

Jimin seems to sense your escalating pleasure, and one of his hands skillfully finds your clit, circling it with a tantalizing touch that nearly makes you scream. “Shit!”

He skillfully pinches your clit, and suddenly, you see stars—you're gone. Squirts of your release gush out, painting his pubic hairs, and Jimin gazes down at you. You thrash around the bed, frantically breathing, your muscles tightening as your vision becomes a canvas of small, white dots.

“Damn. You just squirted all over me,” he breathes in a soft voice, a hint of adoration laced within. However, you can't really decipher his tone as you're lost in the moment, your ears ringing again.

“Damn, that's hot,” he exclaims and thrusts into you again, releasing his warm load inside you with a scream of your name.

He continues to thrust into your core, the rhythm slowing down to a more sensual pace. Your body feels dazed and sweaty, the dress clinging uncomfortably to your skin, the satin now undoubtedly soaked through.

You gasp for air, still catching your breath. “Fucking hell, that was amazing, Jimin.” He chuckles, offering you a gentle smile that quickly transforms into his trademark smirk.

His laughter dances through the air, accompanied by a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You know, we can totally do this again,” he says, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. You can't help but roll your eyes, though deep down, the idea doesn't seem entirely unwelcome. Keeping a sense of mystery, you respond with a playful glint in your eyes, “Maybe.” The rebellion in your spirit mirrors the dance of sparks between you, a familiar game of push and pull that seems destined to continue.

“Brat.”

He chuckles, yet defies the teasing nickname by bending down to kiss you; it’s sweet and tender, a stark contrast to how he just fucked your brains out.

You cast a dismayed gaze at your drenched dress, muttering, “I can't go out in this,” and you groan, feeling the uncomfortable cling of the fabric to your skin, an unwelcome sensation adding to the aftermath of your heated encounter.

“How about we raid Seokjin’s closet?” he suggests, winking with a playful lift of his brows and a light chuckle.

“Is this Seokjin’s room? Did we just fuck on his bed? Damn, he’s going to be furious!” You burst into laughter at the absurdity of the situation. “No way! Imagine if everyone finds out we fucked.” You shriek, wildly waving your hands in the air, the possibility suddenly sinking in.

“Why are you so hell-bent on keeping it a secret?” he asks, genuinely curious, a playful glint in his eyes as he chuckles at your distress.

“Because you're my sworn enemy,” you state matter-of-factly, giving a nonchalant shrug.

“Are you sure about that?” he teases, his eyebrows wiggling playfully. You can't help but roll your eyes at his cheeky demeanor once again.

“And I think they already know,” he laughs, amusement dancing in his eyes as he observes your irritated expression. You groan into your hands, grappling with the realization that he might be right. However, you're determined to cling to any shred of hope you can find.

“We'll just stay up here until my dress is dry,” you declare, as if it's the most brilliant plan you can conjure. Jimin chuckles, his gaze lingering over your heaving form with a hunger that ignites a spark of desire. He licks his lips, suggesting, “Then take it off. That way, it'll dry faster, and we can go for round two in a moment.”

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princessaxoxo · 3 months

Text

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾ 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝒸ℴ𝓃𝒻𝓇ℴ𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃 ☾･˚⁺‧͙

dbf!august walker x fem!reader

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

𝘨𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦.

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: a much-needed night out turns into a confrontation with august.

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 18+, a lot of angst

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 2k+

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

“Slow down!”

In your backless gold dress, you were dragged by the hand into the most popular nightclub in the city by your best friend Willow. The place was jam-packed, people squeezing into every possible space as the lights flashed, everyone grinding against one another.

When August hadn't gotten back to you since the morning after Thanksgiving, you initially assumed he was simply busy running his company like usual. However, after a month had passed, you were mistaken—it was clear that he had no regard for you.

So to get your mind off of him, you agreed to go out with Willow instead of staying at home with your thoughts.

“Shots!” your friend shouted over the blaring music. After licking the salt off the glass's rim, you quickly drank the tequila and chased it with a lime. A burn in your throat followed. Before you knew it, the bartender had poured you numerous rounds of shots, and you were texting an inebriated text message to August.

"I'm over you; don't expect to go see or hear frlm me abain bue augyst.”

A drunken smile took over your face as you pressed send and turned off your phone. The music around you intensified as you made your way to the dance floor with Willow. She took hold of your hips, and the two of you began to rub and sway against one another in tune with the music.

Everything around you blended into a blissful, intoxicated blur.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

August realized after Thanksgiving that perhaps being with you wasn't the best choice. He was having an affair with his closest friend's daughter. He might not have seen you grow up, but he's been told stories of you from your father over the years, which makes it safe to say that he never imagined the two of you would start dating secretly. However, you were his favorite forbidden fruit from the moment he saw you.

When he saw you again, he was unable to control himself. Though he was aware that it was foolish, he didn't give a damn. He assured himself that he only needed to be with you once, but after tasting you, he realized he was in trouble and needed more.

The way your eyes looked at him was always so needy, innocent, and full of life.

In addition, he knew that he wouldn't be able to control himself if he saw you again and you gazed at him with those stunning doe eyes; you would have him totally wrapped around your finger.

When his phone buzzed in his coat pocket and your name flashed, immense guilt filled him. Though the last thing he wanted was to hurt you, he realized he should have gotten in touch with you and had a mature conversation instead of ignoring you.

August stopped walking as he read your text. His face took on an angry, worried expression as his eyebrows furrowed. Saying you were over him in a drunken text message to him? That was not something he was willing to accept.

All he got when he tried to call you was your voicemail. August texted you multiple times after you didn't return his calls, and each message failed to send. As he glanced at your often updated Twitter account—which you hadn't posted on—his jaw hardened.

However, he saw that your friend Willow had tagged you in some of her pictures. August enlarged the background of one of the pictures to reveal the name of the club you were at. He jumped in his car and drove quickly to the club without thinking.

Adrenaline ran through him as he entered and pushed through the bodies in the club. His eyes searched in all directions, looking for you. August called you again, but he was still only able to reach your voicemail. He muttered to himself, "Fuck's sake, where are you?"

This was the last place he wanted to be, and it was evident from the disdain on his face. However, he was unable to shake the image of you. Even if he had to throw you over his shoulder, he would not leave this club without you.

It seemed like hours until he finally saw you dancing near bystanders. Though he didn't know the man behind you, he did identify your friend Willow, who was dancing next to you. The man's hands were on your hips, and his body was pressing against your back. What irritated August even more? As the stranger spoke in your ear, you grinned and laughed.

August cursed his way among the clusters of people surrounding him until he was directly in front of you.

Shock was the first feeling that went through you when you saw August in front of you, but that quickly transformed into you clumsily approaching him. "What are you doing here?" You spoke incoherently to him.

"What are you doing here? is the question that needs to be answered, not what am I doing here? And why did you turn off your phone?” August was enraged. His jaw was tightening, and his nostrils were flaring.

Pressing your finger into his firm chest, you gave him a shrug and said, "Because I didn't want to speak to you."

He hauled you to the closest restroom by the arm.

"It doesn't matter if you choose not to talk to me." He advanced on you with a stalk. "You're endangering yourself by acting like a drunken idiot. Rubbing your ass like a slut on a stranger," steam was nearly emanating from his body, and his chest was heaving.

You could feel the tears welling up at the way he spoke to you.

"Slut? A drunken idiot? That's how you actually see me?" you asked.

Venom dripped from his response as his eyes poured into yours. "Yes."

"Screw you! You're not allowed to call me a slut. I am free to do as I choose; you have made it very apparent that I am not yours. I don't need to justify myself to you. There is absolutely nothing you could do to stop me from going back out there, taking that guy home, and fucking him." The buzz you had was long gone.

August could see by the expression in your eyes that you were serious. Though he knew immediately after speaking the words that he shouldn't have spoken them, his anger prevented him from stopping.

He inhaled deeply.

One moment you were standing on your feet arguing with August, then suddenly he flung you over his shoulder and stormed out of the bathroom. “Put me down!” you yelled over the blaring music.

Giving you a slap on your ass, he replied, “Be quiet before I have to teach you a lesson.”

After that, you stayed silent, both you and August.

All you got out of August after leaving the club and returning to his house was silence. Which, you thought, was absurd given what he had said to you; he needed to be saying sorry.

He got out of his car to open the door on your side as soon as it pulled into his driveway. "Let's head inside; come on." With your arms folded, you sat there motionless, gazing out of his front windshield. "No." His gaze was burning holes in you, and you could feel it.

Once more, August hoisted you over his shoulder while yelling, "Dammit!" After entering his home, he went to his room, sat you on his bed, and knelt down. August gripped your left foot. "What are you doing?" you asked him, casting him a strange glance. His gaze locked with yours. "Helping you get comfortable so you can sleep off your buzz." Despite the rolling of your eyes, he could tell you were grateful when you glanced at him.

"If you were going to be disrespectful, you didn't have to show up tonight," you added. He gave a head nod, then carried on. "Go to sleep, and we'll talk in the morning," before helping you into his bed and heading out to sleep in the guest bedroom for the evening.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Slowly opening your eyes, you saw rays of sunshine peeking in through the window, yawning and rubbing your eyes as the creaky door opened. Rolling over, you saw an exhausted August enter with some medicine and drink. "Take this ibuprofen for your headache, and wash it down with a bit of this water."

Without even looking at him, you swallowed the pills and then the water.

"Last night, words just can't—" You raised your finger. "I'm going to cut you off there. You referred to me as a drunken idiot and a slut. I never would have imagined you saying that to me, of all people." An expression of regret filled his face.

“I was scared for you; you weren’t answering my texts or my calls. And then I see you dancing with some guy? It made me angry, and while I was worried about you, it seemed you didn’t care at all.” August was trying his best not to raise his voice.

"So, even though you were afraid and concerned for me, you became jealous and decided it was alright to label me a slut? A normal person wouldn't do what you did; instead, they would be relieved that the person they care about is okay. You know what, too? If you hadn't ignored me for the previous month, I wouldn't have gone out and danced with a guy last night."

“I know. I thought-” August paused for a second, painfully staring at you, then carried on. "I didn't think it would be smart for us to keep seeing each other. I have known your father for a long time; we have developed a business together, and in certain aspects, I even think of him as family. I don't want to betray his trust. I also didn't want to lose you or cause you any harm. I couldn't." You just listened to him without saying anything. "Jesus, when he discovers that I'm in love with his daughter, he's going to kick my ass.”

You put your hands over your eyes and then turned to face him again. "August, you can't just say things like that. Not after what happened last night; that's not fair to me. Prior to last night, everything was great and perfect while we were together, but I would never want to go through what I did last night again. So, we should end this now if that's how you plan to respond when I decide to go out. Another advantage is that you won't have to decide between my father and myself."

"You want us to stop seeing each other?" August asked, shaking his head. "Everyone makes mistakes. Nobody is perfect. I feel bad for last night. I regret the way I spoke to you. But what if something did happen to you? Mmm? If I let you stay there and something terrible happened, I would never be able to forgive myself."

You glanced down at the glass you were holding instead of looking at him. "At least for the time being, I believe it's best if we see other people."

With a puff of laughter, he went on. "No, that is not something that is going to happen; you can forget about that." Before getting up and heading to his closet, August took the glass from your hands and set it on the bedside table. With a pair of boxers and a white t-shirt, August came back. "Go take a shower; my bathroom has everything you need. After that, come to the kitchen. I'll be waiting for you with breakfast ready."

Startled by his answer and his behavior, you blinked incessantly. He was beginning to give you whiplash. However, you ultimately knew what you were going to do. After you got up, showered, got dressed in his clothes, and brushed your teeth, you went downstairs to have breakfast with him.

"Tomorrow, 8 p.m., I'm taking you out for dinner," August said, setting a plate of pancakes with a whipped smiley face in front of you. “And if I say no?” August smirked while pouring you some orange juice. “Funny joke, now eat.”

˚₊⭑‧꒰ა [Tag list] ໒꒱ ‧₊⭑˚

@shellyshellshell @ellethespaceunicorn @beck07990 @ktficworld @chloe92 @kingliam2019 @juliaorpll78 @armystay89 @nighttimestan @angelcavill66 @luxeydior @kittymiaow @plaidcat4815 @identity2212

#first post #smutty #henry cavill characters #august walker fanfiction #august walker smut #august walker x reader #august walker #august #angst #august walker x you #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #august walker fic #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #mission impossible

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lovers-rck · 3 months

Note

https://twitter.com/kill8az/status/1751805434996916414?t=Fqeyr9xU9qZTZE9LhQjQCw&s=19

- something like this with ellie *doesn't have to be at Wimbledon just want you to ask her to fuck you and for her to have a comeback like this

link

im so sorry for taking so long omg im embarrassed but i hope you like it....

i kind of hate this but is better than nothing.

☆

the bathroom is tiny. your back crashes against the cold mirror behind you as ellie cups your head intensifying the kiss.

the bathroom is tiny and suddenly too hot. you can see various objects belonging to the owner of the house scattered around the sink and shelves, bumping and tumbling as your body rocks in ellie's arms.

her touch and grip are hungry, her fingers famished for a body she can't get enough of. her hands navigate between your neck and jaw, restless and unsure of where to position themselves at all.

"ellie" you murmur, your hands caressing the expanse of her tattooed arms.

the party was downstairs. from the bathroom you could hear the screams of people celebrating and having a good time to the music; but you and ellie had a different way of having a good time.

her mouth left wet kisses on your glowing skin and turned it on in a way that only ellie could do. she felt a little like a wild animal that had been released from its cage after many years in captivity; too hungry for your touch.

she couldn't tell the exact moment you and her left the dance floor and appeared in that bathroom. her memory throws up blurry memories of their hands intertwined with yours as they walked up the stairs, giggling.

but what ellie does know is the way your skin feels against her hands; she tries to touch you carefully, avoiding getting carried away with her lust and being too rough, but something about the idea of her fingers etched into your skin is appealing to her.

she feels your fingers slipping away until they find her belt buckle and tug on it "ellie" you murmur, slurring the final letter "e" in her name, a moan so dramatic that ellie wants to smile.

"what do you want?" she says, her fingers arranging the unruly strands of hair that intrude between your features, depriving her of admiring you.

and you look at her "fuck me"

suddenly the bathroom feels too hot.

"well" ellie grunts "let's go home then"

and you feel ellie's hand intertwine with yours, opening the bathroom door and pulling you in to complete her mission: get home as soon as possible.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #tlou

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elenawritesxx · 2 months

Text

MATCHMAKING!

PAIRING - remus lupin x reader

SUMMARY - in which the academic rivalry between you and remus turns into something more with the help of his friends, who make sure that their best friends get his happy ending

WC - 821

EXTRA - mentions of drinking, dancing, remus being jealous, no mentions of y/n, lower case intended,

NOTES - hi angels, leaving you on cliffhanger heheh;) this was requested in my ask box and thought i would finally get it out, ik its short but let me know if you want the second part:)

PS. - english isn’t my first language so of you see any grammar or spelling mistakes please don’t hesitate to point them out<3

from the moment you and remus lupin first crossed paths, you two knew that you were destined to be rivals. both of you were exceptionally gifted students, with a thirst for knowledge that knew no bounds. and so, from that fateful day onwards, you engaged in a fierce competition that would last for almost the entirety of your time at hogwarts.

your rivalry manifested itself in many ways, from academic achievements to gaining more house points and everything in between. you vied for the top spot in every class, each determined to outshine the other and prove their superiority. and as the years went by, their rivalry only intensified, with neither willing to back down from the challenge.

yet, amidst the fierce competition and the constant battle for supremacy, you and found yourselves drawn to each other in a way that neither could explain. it was a connection that went beyond mere rivalry, a bond that defied logic and reason.

as the two of you navigated the treacherous waters of your academic rivalry, you and remus found solace in each other's company, sharing late-night study sessions (even if you two wouldn't say a word to each other, the comfortable silence was actually comforting) and engaging in spirited debates about your favorite subjects. you challenged each other's beliefs and pushed each other to new heights, each secretly admiring the other's intellect and determination.

but it wasn't until your fifth year at hogwarts that you and remus's rivalry took an unexpected turn. the marauders, remus's friends who were too tired of seeing their friend arguing with you and at the same tine punishing himself by not admitting his true feelings, decided to intervene, determined to help their friend realize his true feelings for you.

the rest of the marauders had a plan, and they were determined to make remus realize his feelings for you once and for all. they had enlisted the help of the girls, and they were all in on the plan. they knew that you had feelings for remus (even if you didn't know it yet), of course they did- they were your best friends after all. and so they were determined to help you win his heart.

the gryffindor common room was decorated with streamers and fairy lights, and the air was filled with the sound of laughter and music. they were all dressed to the nines, ready to have a good time.

lily was wearing a beautiful green dress that complemented her fiery red hair and made james’ jaw drop and eyes almost pop out of his sockets the moment she entered the common room, marlene was in a sleek black jumpsuit, and alice was in a stunning pink dress that matched her bubbly personality.

but it was you who caught remus's eye as soon as you walked into the room and made your way towards the girls, in need of a drink. remus couldn't help but feel a surge of jealousy as he watched other guys eye you from head to toe from across the room.

as the night went on, the marauders put their plan into action. they made sure that you were always by remus's side, engaging him in the conversation and laughing at his awkward jokes (which to be fair were actually funny). they even got sirius to ask you to dance, knowing that it would make remus jealous.

but remus was too caught up in his own feelings to notice what was going on around him. he couldn't take his eyes off you, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was different about you tonight. you seemed more confident, more sure of yourself, and it was driving him crazy.

as you danced with sirius, his hands on your body and you laughing at his stupid jokes, remus wished it was him instead, he hadn’t realized that his grip had tightened around the cup he was holding, his eyes narrowing. he wished it was his hands on you, dancing with him, and he realized he was longing the sound of your laughter at his admittedly stupid jokes.

it was then that Remus realized the depth of his feelings for you, a realization that both thrilled and terrified him. he had spent so long denying his feelings, burying them deep within his heart, that he didn't know how to express them. he was scared, terrified from both the fact that there was a possibility you didn’t share his feelings back, and the possibility of him hurting you one way or another.

with a surge of determination, and maybe too much of alcohol in his system, even tho he couldn’t really get drunk due to his condition, he still could get tipsy, and the tipsy remus was way more confident than the sober remus. he made his way over to you and sirius, his heart pounding in his chest. he had to tell you how he felt, before it was too late.

#fanfic #x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #marauders x reader #the maruaders #remus lupin being an oblivious #for the record so are you #remus x reader #remus being remus #remus x you #elenawritesxx

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suugarbabe · 4 months

Text

[Chapter 9]

word count: ~4.6k

warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of torture, mentions of traumatic wounds, smut, oral (f!receiving), p in v

Mattheo picked up a vase from the table next to him, throwing it against the wall and smashing it into a million tiny pieces. Pansy’s whole body jumped in her place on the couch, Draco squeezing her hand in comfort. “You’re scaring her, Cousin, she said she was sorry and she didn’t know what happened.” Mattheo was seething with anger, his words spitting out of his mouth like venom, “I don’t give a bloody fuck what she says she does or doesn’t remember or how fucking sorry she is. My girl is gone and she’s the only one who can tell us who possibly took her.” Mattheo turned his back to the pair now, dragging his fingers through his hair and tugging at his curls in frustration.

“Well, there is a way for you to see, Matt,” Theo spoke up, giving Pansy a sorrowful look. Mattheo turned back around, Pansy nodding her head, “He’s right. Do it Matty. I can’t remember but it’s gotta be there.” Without hesitation Mattheo took out his wand, pointing it in the middle of Pansy’s forehead, “Legimens.” In a swirl of images Mattheo was thrust back into the club, the edges of his vision slightly hazy. He saw you in front of him, swaying to the beat with your eyes closed. You wore a cheshire grin and he could tell it was when you were talking to him. In front of you was Pansy, body moving similarly to the music. You laughed to yourself as Pansy did another twirl. Just as Pansy’s back turned, Mattheo saw a flash of red, it was like your body was falling in slow motion before a pair of arms wrapped around you, dragging you out through the crowd.

Mattheo pulled back, stumbling back into the sitting room where the rest of the family was watching him intently. Everyone could see Mattheo’s expression darken, worry fitted on all of their faces, “What is it, Mattheo, what did you see?” Enzo was trying his best to stay calm but he was just as angry as Mattheo. Enzo didn’t have any siblings growing up and thus his relationships within the family were of max importance. Mattheo closed his eyes, speaking through gritted teeth, “Someone cast a spell at her. I’m nearly positive it was stupify because-”

“Because she stopped speaking to you mid-sentence,” Theo finished the sentence for him. Mattheo’s jaw clenched as he nodded. Pansy’s eyes started filling with tears once more, the guilt she felt intensifying with each passing moment that you were gone. She opened her mouth to speak once more when she suddenly heard your voice ring in her head, and by the looks of the others she wasn’t the only one. 1538 Woodbury Lane, London. 1538 Woodbury Lane, London. 1538 Woodbury Lane, London. Immediately Mattheo’s eyes met his cousins, Draco nodding in silent agreement, “Blaise and I will stay here with Pansy, you three go.” The next sound a simple crack as Theo, Enzo and Mattheo disappeared from the room.

The space the three men apparated to was dark, emergency lights the only source of illumination around them. “Find her.” Two words were all the direction Mattheo gave as the three men started looking through the entire warehouse. Closets, old boxes, under machines were all scoured until Enzo walked into the the back room, breath catching in his throat, “H-here, oh bloody fucking Salazar, SHE'S IN HERE!” The sound of rushed shoes on pavement could be heard as Theo and Mattheo ran to where they heard Enzo’s voice, the latter boy already rushing to your body curled in on itself, wrist still chained against the back wall. Enzo got to you first, grabbing hold of your neck. His first two fingers immediately finding your pulse point, “She’s alive. Pulse is there, it’s strong.” He pointed his wand at the wall, the chain attached to you disintegrating.

Mattheo fell to his knees next to you, hoisting you up to a sitting position and pulling you into his arms. Your head was rolling, Mattheo holding your head in one of his large hands. “Princess,” he tapped your cheek lightly, voice strained, “Princess, can you look at me, please?” Your eyelids felt heavy, but they fluttered open, blurrily catching a glimpse of Mattheo as he held onto you. “T-teo?” Your voice came out horse, scratchy. “It’s me, Princess, don’t worry.” He looked at Theo and Enzo, both wearing looks of worry across their faces. Mattheo stood, holding your body close to his chest as he did so, “Theo take us back. Now.” Theo placed a hand on Mattheo’s shoulder, then Enzo’s. In a whirl the four of you were back at the manor, back in the sitting room where Blaise, Draco and Pansy were waiting.

Pansy’s mouth was agape, tears starting to flow again at the sight of what had become of you in your absence. Mattheo started toward the foyer, you still in his arms, “Come, cousin, she needs your help.” At his words Draco moved immediately, the rest of the family following suit. At the bottom of the stairs Mattheo stopped, turning towards the group, “Just cousin. No one else.” Theo and Blaise let out a huff while Enzo mumbled a “like fucking hell” but Mattheo doubled down, “It’s not a negotiation. Just Draco. That’s it. The rest of you need to start planning.” Through her tears Pansy managed to finally speak up, “Plan for what?” Enzo gripped Pansy’s arm lightly as they watched Mattheo and Draco take you into the room, “Revenge.”

In the room Mattheo quickly laid you down on the large bed, pulling Draco up to the side, “Check her. Do it now, cousin. Just like Aunt Cissy taught you.” Draco glanced over his shoulder nervously, clenching and unclenching his fists before giving a nod. He turned back to you, taking in the sight before him. Your breathing was shallow, but steady. He noted the dry blood on your chin and the edge of your mouth like you had been slapped or punched in the face. The dried blood that seemed to have dripped down your legs worried him as well. A large purple bruise was forming on your shoulder that looked like the heel of a boot. Draco closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath before nervous hands hovered over your body. He started at the top, near your head, just as his mother taught him. He concentrated his thoughts, slowly moving his hands over your body, “Cut lip,” he moved lower, “left collarbone broken,” he grimaced as he kept going, “ribs seven and eight on her right side cracked, right kidney bruised,” he moved down towards your legs, “seems just a few cuts and bruises, cuts are what the blood down here’s from.” Mattheo nodded solemnly, “So he didn’t…”

“No, he didn’t,” your voice was shaky, but you knew what Mattheo was implying, “Just…heal what you can Dray, please.” A tear ran down your cheek as your bottom lip wobbled. Draco leaned down as he wiped the tear with his thumb, a sad frown on his face, “S’gonna hurt a little, darling.” You nodded meekly, “I know, just…get it over with.” Draco nodded, standing back up fully and slipping his wand from his sleeve. He worked backwards this time, knowing your collarbone was going to hurt the worst to heal. Slowly the cuts started to close and heal, the bruises fading to small dark marks that would disappear in a day or two. He healed your ribs with one swift motion, the cracks healing with little pain much like a cramp. He healed the cuts from your lips and mouth next before pausing. “You ready for this last one, darling?” You nodded, closing your eyes in anticipation. Draco’s wand hovered over your collarbone, “Episkey.” The bone snapping back into place was loud, nearly drowning out your own whimper as you bit your lip to conceal how painful it really was. Silent tears slipped from your eyes, Mattheo quickly by your side to wipe them away.

Draco chewed his lip nervously as Mattheo consoled you, “There’s one more thing, cousin.” Mattheo turned towards the blonde as you turned on your side, back facing them as your curled in on yourself once more into the covers, “What is it?” Draco peered over at you, grey eyes swirling with sorrow, “They…they used the cruciatus on her, like...a lot, Matty. From what I could feel I think more than one person used it on her at a time.” Mattheo closed his eyes at the information, not wanting to imagine you in that situation, how it must have felt for you. Draco continued, “There’s no healing I can do to take that away from her. You know better than any of us-” Mattheo cut him off, “I know.” Draco nodded, walking over to you once again. Draco leaned over you, placing a gentle kiss on your head, “I’m so sorry this happened to you, darling.” You turned to face him, grabbing hold of his wrist with a weak smile, “Thank you for healing me.” Draco huffed a laugh, “Not as good as you by any means, love.” But you shook your head, “Might give me a run for my money.” Draco smiled at you lightly, nodding to Mattheo as he left the room to leave you two alone.

Mattheo rounded the bed on the opposite side of you. It was obvious he wanted to grab hold of you but wanted to respect however you were feeling, “What do you need, Princess? Do you want to be alone? Do you want me to go?” You slumped further into the bed, not making eye contact with him as you shook your head, “Don’t go. Will you…” You looked up at him almost shyly, “Will you hold me…please?” Your bottom lip trembled once more. Mattheo gently crawled into the large bed, shuffling under the covers to pull you close. You grabbed hold of him, grasping to whatever you could get your hands on like you couldn’t get close enough to him as the tears started to flow. Mattheo’s heart was shattering, squeezing you so close to his body he feared he might crush you but you relished in the pressure. Lips pressed to your forehead, he mumbled into your skin, “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, Princess. I swear it.” With his reassurance, your body finally relaxed. Mattheo could tell when you finally fell asleep as your grip on his arm and around his neck went slack, however he still held you close.

As you woke up hours later, you were still wrapped up in Mattheo. His scent enveloped you like the most delicious intrusion to your senses. You started to release your grip on him, needing to attempt to stretch away the soreness from everything that happened the night before. Mattheo was apparently already awake, hand sliding down your side as his eyes quickly gave you a once over. As his hand reached your hip you caught his wrist, breath catching in your throat at the memory of what now lay carved in your skin there. “Sorry,” his words came out sheepish but you only shook your head, “No, s’okay. M’just, sore.” Mattheo nodded, anger bubbling back inside his chest, “I get it.” He sat up then, giving himself a proper stretch before turning towards you. “Coming down for food with me?” You shook your head, pulling to covers back up to your chin, “Think I’m gonna stay here for a little longer…if that’s okay.” Mattheo nodded, leaning down and kissing your lips softly, “Course it is, sweetheart.” He stood from the bed, leaning down with his hands on the mattress as you turned to him, “The boys and I are gonna be in and out of the manor for a little while, but you know how to call me if you need me.”

You met his eyes, tone flat as you asked, “You’re going out looking for him aren’t you. For…Damiano.” Mattheo closed his eyes at the name, but nodded. You leaned up, capturing him in a soft kiss once more. Mattheo grabbed hold of the side of your face, thumb brushing the apple of your cheek as he separated your lips. You laid back down as Mattheo made his way towards the door. He turned back once more before exiting, chest tightening as he saw you curl in on yourself again before closing the door behind him.

The days that followed all blended for you. This was due to the fact that you hadn’t left Mattheo’s bed since that first night, the most to use the bathroom. But with how little you were eating, you barely had to do that either. Mattheo and the other boys were gone more than they were home. You knew when they were home because the door would creak open. You knew it was Mattheo, but every time you heard the door open the mark on your leg seemed to pulse and shame washed over you. Pansy came to comfort you often when the boys were gone, laying in bed beside you, rubbing your back as you sobbed. She never asked what happened, never asked for details. The first time she cried with you, apologizing and saying how it was all her fault. You held each other that night, cried together until you convinced her that if he had to, Damniano would’ve taken both of you that night, just to prove a point.

Gimball would bring you meals, smiling sadly as he took the untouched plate from the previous when dropping off the next. After a few days he started changing what he brought you, making you special meals he thought you might be able to stomach versus what he was making for the rest of the family. “Please, Miss, just a few bites. Gimball make special, you don’t have to eat it all to help.” You started to comply slowly, if only for the fact that Gimball had also started begging for you to eat something and that made you feel slightly pathetic for pitying yourself so harshly. Gimball noticed you’d eat more when you thought the others were away or sleeping, therefore bringing you heartier meals at those times.

“Master Mattheo is very worried about Miss Birdie. Asks Gimball every day how she is,” Gimball rocked back and forth on his feet as you slowly ate the sandwich he had brought for you. “And what do you tell him?” you were curious how they were all perceiving you, how sad and helpless they thought you were. “Gimball tells Master she is strong at heart, but hurting in mind. Gimball tells Master that Miss Birdie just needs time.” You smiled at the elf, finishing the last bit of the sandwich and handing over the plate. Gimball bowed, giving you a small smile before disappearing with a crack. You laid back down against the pillows, trying to ease your mind now that your stomach was full. Trying to close your eyes without seeing his face the moment you tried to drift off to sleep. You were nearly there when you heard the shouting.

The voices sounded panicked, shouting at volumes so high you heard it through the doors. You rushed to get up, knotting the silk robe tight around your waist before heading for the top of the stairs. Below the shouts became clearer. “The table, the fucking bloody table, get him up there!” Your pulse quickened, feet rapidly descending down the stairs before you even knew what they were doing. “For Salazar’s sake, Malfoy, hurry, there’s no way he’s going to last this long, you’ve gotta move faster, mate!” Your feet hit the foyer floor, nearly sprinting towards the voices now. Before you could get a look at who was on the table a pair of arms enwrapped you, pulling you back towards the stairs.

“No, Princess. You can’t, not yet,” Mattheo’s voice was stern but you heard the concern laced within his tone. “Who is it? Who’s hurt?” you tried to push him off you but he just held you tighter. “We found him but I think he was expecting it, he had more people with him than we planned. He got away after he attacked us, ran away like a fucking coward.” You knew he meant Damiano. That they were close to catching him and doing what they wanted so badly to do to him. “Let me go, Mattheo. If he’s the one that did this let me help, I’m the one who could do it best.” Mattheo held on tighter, “S’too much, Birdie, you’ve been through enough already, Draco can handle it.”

You shook your head, “Tell me who it is, I can tell Draco needs my help. Tell me who it is. Right now, Mattheo, is it Enzo again?” You peered around his arm, stretching your neck to catch any glimpse of those surrounding the table. You saw Pansy’s black hair, Blaise holding the table by someone’s feet. Draco’s platinum hair flashed in your vision as he moved from one side of the table to the other. As he maneuvered around whoever was hurt there was a brief moment where carmel eyes locked with yours and then you knew. You knew who was hurt, who lay dying on the table as Draco struggled to help heal him.

You looked up, eyes locking with Mattheo’s, “Teddy? It’s Teddy?” Mattheo didn’t respond, giving you all the confirmation you needed. You started thrashing in his grasp, desperately begging him to let you help. You knew he was just trying to protect you, just worried after what Damiano had put you through, but what Mattheo failed to realize was that not helping was doing more damage. With a final push Mattheo let go, your body rushing towards Theo’s where it lay bloodied on the table. You took in the scene before you, Draco frantically trying to work on the large, deep gashes on Theo’s torso and legs, but constantly having to stop as Theo’s mouth, and presumably his lungs, kept filling with blood from Merlin knows what spell was cast on him.

Theo was in bad shape. You ran your hands along his neck, checking his pulse, your fingers slipping on the blood covering his skin any time you applied pressure. His left arm was clearly broken and whatever spell or spells that hit him left baseball size gashes all over his body, your hands ran along his skin, noting no dark magic attached to him. Turning off all emotion you started giving out orders, “Draco focus on his legs, one wound at a time, the same spells you used on me, okay?” He nodded, stepping aside and quickly getting to work. The sound of Theo beginning to gag again caught your attention, quickly waving your hand over his mouth to make the blood disappear. Enzo looked at you in shock. “Enzo if it happens again, take out your wand, wave it quickly and horizontally, sicco. You got it?” Enzo nodded, hand gripping his wand tightly in preparation.

You turned forward now, hands hovering over Theo’s torso. Just as you instructed Draco, you hovered over each gash, one by one starting at Theo’s chest. You moved down his torso, healing the wounds on his side and stomach just as Draco was finishing up his legs. You could tell Theo’s breathing was starting to even out again, finally able to take full breaths. “Hold his shoulders Enzo, this parts gonna hurt him.” Enzo did as instructed, watching as your hands hovered over Theo’s arm. With a flick of your wrists everyone heard the crack as his bones snapped back into place. “Fanculo tutti, Uccellina! A cosa diavola serviva!” Theo groaned out, pulling his arm to his chest and rolling to his side. You pointed a finger at him, “Don’t you take that bloody tone with me, Theodore or I’ll break your arm all over again!” Theo merely groaned, lying back on the table with his arm covering his eyes. Your breaths were heavy, pushing Theo's hair from his eyes and placing a kiss on his forehead, "Amo tuo fratello."

Walking away, Mattheo was quick to follow you. “Where are you going?” He was hot on your heels as you ascended the stairs. You stopped at the door, not to his room, but to yours. Turning towards him your face was blank as you spoke, “I’m going to wash my brother’s blood off my skin.” Speechless, Mattheo watched you walk into the room. He followed close behind, watching you walk into the bathroom. He stood by the door, observing as you undid your robe. That’s when he saw it, what you had been so ashamed of for the last week and a half, what you didn’t want him to see but was currently too lost in thought due to what just happened. The sun etched on your skin, just below your hip where you wouldn’t let him touch before.

Mattheo waited on your bed for you. You had expected him to leave, to walk out when you had been so cold to him, but there he was, waiting at the edge of your bed. You walked towards him, towel tied around your body and hair wet. He didn’t speak until you were stood between his knees. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Your head tilted in confusion, only for your mind to be cleared when you felt Mattheo’s hand quickly slide under your towel to grip your hip, thumb pressing into the mark. His other hand gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. “I’ll ask again, Princess. Why did you not tell me he did this to you?” You closed your eyes, tears threatening to spill. His grip on your face tightened, asking for your answer. “I was ashamed. I thought…I figured you wouldn’t want me once you knew.” Mattheo tsked his tongue, “Oh, Princess, we’ve been over this haven’t we? You think something like that would change things?”

A tear threatened to fall as he spoke again, “Tell me what you know to be true, Princess. Say it for me so I know you understand.” Your eyes met his, speaking on a shaky breath, “I’m yours.” Mattheo grinned slightly, “Again, like you believe it.” You spoke firmer now, “I’m yours.” Mattheo nodded, eyes flicking to your lips briefly, “One more time.” You watched as his tongue darted over his lips, your pulse quickening under his touch, “I’m yours, Mattheo.” You watched his mouth upturn into a smirk before you smashed your lips to his, taking him slightly by surprise. His hand grips the back of your neck as you climb onto his lap, deepening the kiss, turning it heated and passionate. As the kiss breaks you stare at one another, catching your breath. “I need you, Teo, please.” He was hesitant, not wanting to push your limits after all you'd been through, "You sure, Princess?" You nodded. Mattheo cupped your cheek, "I need words, pretty girl." You took a deep breath, "Yes, Mattheo, I'm sure."

At your words he lifted you up as if you weighed nothing, flipping you both around so you’re now lying down on the bed. He peppers kisses down your neck, the air in the room cool on your skin in his wake. His hands gently caress every inch of your skin, leaving a trail of fire in it’s wake. “Mattheo,” you moan, need evident in your voice. He chuckles, the sound sending shivers up your spine. His lips trail lower, making his way down your body until they reach your core. In one swift motion he flattens his tongue, giving a long, slow lick. Your back arches off the bed, body seeking more of him in such desperation, you can nearly feel him smirk between your thighs.

Mattheo takes his time, worshiping your body with his tongue like you were his salvation, his lips singing your praises against your skin. “Please, Teo,” you beg, desperate for more of him. A whimper leaves your throat as he gives you what you crave, two fingers thrusting into you as he sets a pace that has your thighs trembling. Your fingers tangle in his curls, gripping tight and pulling him impossibly closer. He moans against you, the vibrations taking you to a new height of pleasure, each thrust of his fingers bringing you closer to the edge. Then his fingers slow, his mouth on your neck now before connecting your lips once more. His fingers hit that spot deep inside causing a mewl to leave your lips.

You bury your face into his neck and make another noise. “S’okay,” Mattheo comforts, “ ‘ve got you, Princess. Al’right? M’right here, yeah? I’ve got you.” His thumb circles your bundle of nerves, figure eights causing your hips to buck as he whispers in your ear, “This all for me, Princess. Mine to play with. Mine to taste.” You whine, head nodding, “Yes, fuck, yes, Teo, all yours. Always yours. Forever.” Mattheo slowly pulled out his fingers, you whining at the feeling of loss inside you as you watched him suck his fingers clean before undoing his belt and freeing himself. He pushed your knees down, spreading you open and pinning your legs to the bed so you had nowhere else to go. Slowly he guided his cock to your cunt, watching as he eased into you, your walls swallowing him to the hilt.

“Bloody fucking hell, look at that, Princess, feels good doesn’t it?” He grinned devilishly at your slacked jaw, breath catching in your throat as he began rocking into you. Your nails dug into his ribs, scratching down his skin. He hissed at the pain, hips snapping into you harder. His fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, using them as leverage as he rammed his hips against yours. “Fuck, Teo, yes, please don’t stop,” you moaned, eyes fluttering closed as you grabbed onto him for dear life. “Uh, uh, Princess, eyes open, look at me,” he tutted, grabbing your jaw roughly, kissing you deeply and grinding his hips against yours, stimulating your clit perfectly. You gasped as you fell over the edge into your orgasm. Your walls fluttering around him had Mattheo following soon after. His lips trailed your neck lightly as he slowly pulled out, lying down on his back beside you.

He slid an arm under your waist, pulling you into him. Your head settled on his chest comfortably, Mattheo’s fingertips trailing up and down your back lightly. You laid like this for a moment, enveloped in all that was him and all that you two were together. Mattheo was surprised when you broke the silence, not by the sound of your voice but by your words. “When you find him, don't kill him right away.” He made a noise of confusion, causing you to lift your head, chin settling on his chest to look up at him. “When you find him, because I know you will, don’t kill him right away. I want you to call me, have Theo or Enzo get me and bring me there.” Mattheo’s brows furrowed, a mix of anger and confusion written on his features, “Why the bloody fuck would I do that?” You pressed your lips to Mattheo’s skin, feeling his heartbeat beneath your lips before looking at him once more.

“Because I want to watch him die.”

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eddies-ashtray · 9 months

Text

Eddie finds out he’s finally graduating. You and Wayne have a surprise for him.

(CW: Eddie’s feelings of inadequacy and low-self worth). |2.1k|

♡*♡*♡

You know that feeling you would get as a kid when you’d do something you shouldn’t have done? When you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar?

As you grow up that feeling intensifies, it grows as your world does, as you do. Your life and the decisions you make become more messy and complex. And so do the feelings you get when you screw up.

As a kid, you might feel embarrassed that you’d been caught stealing cookies before dinner and maybe a bit disappointed in yourself for choosing to do it when you knew it was wrong.

When you get older, whether it's due to failing to make the right decision or failing at something you tried, embarrassment morphs into immense shame and disappointment shifts to profound feelings of worthlessness.

Eddie is quite familiar with these feelings.

At the end of his first senior year, Eddie entered Mr. O’Reilly’s cramped office–that always managed to feel smaller each time he entered it–and was under no illusions that it was about to be a pleasant visit. It typically never was.

In fact, Eddie had suspected what he was about to be told by the guidance counsellor. But this suspicion did nothing to soften the blow.

It surprised him how much it hurt to know he’d failed. He hadn’t really realized how much he wanted to graduate until he was told he wouldn't. Or, rather, couldn’t.

By the time he got up to leave, Mr. O’Reilly’s office felt bigger than it ever had before.

Or maybe he just felt smaller.

His second go-round, he was motivated more than ever to get it right. Eddie had big plans for himself; he wanted to move out of this town one day, move to the city, work on his music.

He felt like he couldn't do any of that until he finished the business he had here. So he worked his ass off. He gave it his all.

And again, he sat in Mr. O’Reilly’s office, the anticipation stirring in his gut. He felt like he could be sick from the hope.

He felt even worse when he was told that all his hard work hadn’t been enough. For a second time he was told he could not graduate. His heart sank so low in his chest he felt like it wasn’t even there anymore.

Eddie almost gave up then and there. In that moment, once again feeling small, he wanted to drop out.

But more than that, he needed to prove to himself that he could stick it through and succeed. If he could do this he could do anything.

This was his final chance, his last chance to get it right. There was no room for failure anymore.

So, marking his sixth (and final) year at Hawkins High, Eddie completed his senior year for the third time.

***

As Eddie makes the trek to Mr. O’Reilly’s office near the end of the school year he feels like a dead man walking. This isn’t an appointment to determine if he will be graduating, it’s an appointment to tell him he will not be. And he’d have to walk out of here for the last time without a diploma in his hands.

Taking a seat in the muted upholstered chair across from O’Reilly’s desk, Eddie braces himself for the familiar words that made his heart sink into the depths of his being two years in a row.

“Here we go,” Mr. O’Reilly drawls, pulling out a plain manila folder marked “Munson, Eddie” from the locked drawer in his desk.

Eddie fidgets in his seat, crossing his legs then uncrossing them, then deciding to sit up straight with his hands folded in his lap. But then that makes him cringe, so he relaxes into the seat, legs spread wide. Still, he can’t get comfortable. His shoulders tense, his jaw is clenched, his lip is chewed raw. There is nothing comfortable about him.

Mr. O’Reilly flips open the folder, licking his finger to aid in turning the pages over as he skims them.

Eddie begins pulling at a loose thread on the corner of the chair. He just keeps pulling and pulling and pulling. If he keeps pulling, maybe the whole chair will come apart. Eddie thinks he might come apart too if he hears those dreaded words.

“Eddie.”

Eddie sits up, stock straight. “Yes, sir?”

He stops pulling the thread, stops moving altogether, even stops breathing. The thread is wound around his index finger, making his hand feel tingly and numb, unlike the rest of him which is thrumming with anxiety and hope and dread.

Eddie leans in almost imperceptibly, like he’s watching the finale of his favourite TV show.

As always, Mr. O’Reilly’s expression is completely unreadable. Mr. O’Reilly is relatively young (at least in comparison to some of the dinosaurs that teach at Hawkins High), maybe in his mid 30s, but his eyes are tired, like he’s lived more lives than just this one.

“You will be a part of the class of 1986.” There’s some pride in his voice as he says it, though he still doesn’t show much emotion in his expression as he does.

Eddie almost can’t make sense of it because he can’t be totally sure that he’s heard him correctly since the words sounded somewhat like the parents in cartoons do. Just an inaudible jumble of sounds that don’t quite make up words. “What?”

Mr. O’Reilly repeats himself, this time with definite, sincere pride in both his voice and his face. “You’re graduating! Congratulations.”

Eddie releases his breath and the thread cutting off the circulation to his finger.

He did it. He’s getting his diploma.

He wants to jump up out of his seat and holler and hug Mr. O’Reilly—one of the few staff at Hawkins High who has always treated him with respect.

Eddie must thank him, must shake his hand and they must exchange goodbyes, but he’s blacked out. He knows he must have done these things, but it’s like his mind simply doesn’t care to remember them. They are not important.

In a blur, he’s walking as calmly as possible out of Mr. O’Reilly’s office, slipping into the hallway from the main office, speed walking out of the school, and then booking it to his van.

More than anything, he cannot wait to share the news with you and with his uncle–the two people in his life who have been, and continue to be, his biggest supporters. He was proud of himself of course, but it meant everything to him getting to share it with the both of you.

Suddenly, he’s parking in the dirt patch they call a driveway, hopping out of his van, and sprinting to the stairs. He takes two at a time, reaching the door in two steps.

Eddie throws open the trailer door, out of breath.

***

You’re in the kitchen when the front door to the trailer whips open. Startled, you nearly hit your head on the thermostat control inside the fridge as you straighten up.

Spinning around to see Eddie standing in the living room, breathing like he’s run all the way from the school, you know immediately the news he has is positive. But you want him to tell you. He deserves to say the words aloud.

The moment your eyes are on him he says, “I fucking did it. I’m graduating!”

A gorgeous smile spreads across his face, his dimples popping in his cheeks. Your expression mirrors his.

You can’t run to him fast enough.

Eddie catches you and grunts with the force of your embrace. Momentarily, your feet lift from the floor as Eddie holds you fast, your face buried in his neck with your arms wrapped tightly around him.

“I knew you could do it,” you whisper into his skin. Eddie squeezes you tight. It says, Thank you. It says, I love you.

When your feet meet the carpet again, you pull back to bring your hands to his face. His honeyed eyes are gleaming. Your cheeks ache from how hard you’re smiling. “You’re amazing!”

A crease forms between his brows like he might cry and you lean up to kiss it away, Eddie’s hands wrapping around your back to pull you against him and your arms wind around his neck.

“What’s all the fuss about?” A gruff voice interrupts from your rear.

You pull away from each other, detangling your hands from Eddie’s hair and look back at him. You’d almost forgotten Wayne was here even though you’d spent the day preparing together.

“Um,” You say, trying to shake yourself from the feeling of Eddie’s lips on yours. Then, you untangle yourself from him and push him toward his uncle. “Eddie’s got some news.”

He takes a big, deep breath, then tells him.

You swear you see tears in Wayne’s eyes, the big ol’ softie. Wayne and Eddie are just alike; tough on the outside, but on the inside they’re both sweethearts.

As if to prove your point, Wayne suddenly pulls Eddie into a fierce hug, his hand cradling the back of his curly head. Eddie just melts into him; this man who’s more than an uncle, who loves him like a father loves his son.

You watch the whole beautiful scene and can’t help but tear up yourself. Eddie deserves this win. He’s gone through so much and kicked and scratched for his survival.

And still he’s come out the other end kind and loving and sweet. It’s a testament to how resilient he is, how brave, how smart.

When they let go of each other, Wayne still doesn’t completely let go. He places a rough hand on Eddie’s face, says, “You should be proud of yourself, son. Lord knows how proud of you I am. And…and your mother, she’d-” Wayne chokes up a bit, then seems to pull himself together to say what he needs to. “Well, she’d be over the moon, that’s for sure.”

Eddie just nods, and you think his eyes look a little glassy now too. Then he comes straight back to you and you hold him again and he breathes in deep. You can feel the relief in the slackness of his body.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Wayne wipe stray tears from just beneath his eye. “Alright, I think that’s enough o’that.”

“Can we do it now?” You ask excitedly. This wasn’t the plan, but you just can’t wait any longer.

Wayne says, “Well, I thought we could wait ‘til later, but…why not?”

Eddie looks between the two of you, confused.

“Yay!” You clap enthusiastically.

“Do what?” Eddie wonders.

Racing around the counter and back towards the fridge, you reach inside as Wayne pulls open drawers. Before pulling it out, you glance over your shoulder to find Eddie’s brows knit together as he approaches the counter. “Close your eyes!”

He obliges without a second thought.

A minute goes by where likely all Eddie hears is some shuffling around, the clunk of a heavy plate being placed on the counter in front of him, and finally the switch of a lighter.

“You get me a new bong or something?” Eddie jokes.

In response, Wayne smacks him lightly upside the head.

“Hey!” Eddie squawks, though his eyes remain shut.

You stifle a giggle, pressing your lips together.

“Are you boys done?” You question teasingly.

“Yes, ma’am,” they both reply at the same time. “Okay. Open your eyes!”

In front of Eddie is a thickly frosted cake with red and white piping. There are messy swirls along the sides, some drooping onto the plate it sits on. In scraggly and thin crushed up letters like you’d run out of room, the top of the cake reads: “Congratulations Eddie!!!”

“Wayne and I made it today!”

Eddie looks up in shock, staring at Wayne like he’s gone insane. “You giving up trucking to become a baker, uncle Wayne?”

“Oh hush up and eat your cake, boy,” Wayne grumbles back, but reaches over the counter to tousle Eddie’s hair playfully, causing his fringe to stick up a bit. You smile at the sight of them.

Then you get to work cutting the cake, three hefty pieces for each of you. Nearly half the cake is gone once you plate up the slices.

The rest of the evening is spent eating take out pizza and even more cake.

That night, sometime after midnight, you and Eddie fall asleep together on the couch, but you’re half awake when a blanket gets placed over the both of you.

♡*♡*♡

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please reblog!

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neteyamyawne · 7 months

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🦋 — Thigh Riding

✧ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : ᴅɪʟꜰ!ᴛᴏɴᴏᴡᴀʀɪ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ᴍᴀᴛᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

✧ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : ᴛᴏɴᴏᴡᴀʀɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴡɪꜰᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ᴛᴏ ɢɪᴠᴇ, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪꜰ ɪᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ʜᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ʜɪꜱ ᴏᴡɴ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴜʀᴇꜱ

MDNI ✯

❈ Warning : Thigh Riding, fingering (f receiving), breast play, soft dom tonowari, edging, tsaheylu making, dry humping.

❈ Word count : 0.8k proof read.

"word" - dialogue

❈ Note : I loveeeeee Tonowari's thighs omgg those damn thiccc thighs! (I want him to squish my face between them)

❈ Glossary : Tweng - loin cloth, Yawne - beloved, paskalin - sweet berry, Muntxate - wife, mawey - calm

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ

Moonlight filtered through the flaps of your mauri as your desperate moans sounded through the thin walls of your shelter, your wet gliding over the expanse of your mate’s thigh, his skin glistening with your juices as your breaths labored with the effort to get some kind of friction, hips rolling over his thick thigh as he squatted in front of your quivering body riding his thigh.

“My My yawne, you really need to cum, huh?” He whispered in your ear as it was pinned back to your skull, your breaths shaking as his large hands rested on your waist, guiding your hips in smooth rolls, moving one of his hands to your heated core, pressing his fingers against your throbbing clit, rubbing circles with them, heightening your already overwhelming pleasure.

“Ummm fuck… wari, kiss me!” your demand was immediately satisfied, lips colliding, his tongue taking over your senses, your languid thrusts on his thigh sent tingles running up your body, the sound of wet slaps of the skin was imprinted into the back of your haze fucked out mind. “What do you want, honey? Tell me, do you want my cock to fill you up? Hmm?” He crooned in the kiss, placing and marking the skin below your chin and Jaw.

Your eyes rolled back in your skull, incoherent words spilling out of your mouth but he took the sign, he leaned back on the wall of your shared mauri, his thigh so wet with your slick that you slipped right down with a yelp at the sudden change of position when he tilted his thighs upward, the mound of your pussy bumping on the joint of his hip, a moan pilling from your plump lips “what was- that for?” you rasped out, grinding your cunt on the tight bulge under his tweng, the bud of your orgasm was just starting to unravel, he groaned throwing his head back pushing down on you down on his tight little problem while gritting his teeth “shhh I need you soakin’ loose for me, honey, when i stretch you open with my cock, i want you nice and loose f’me” his low whispers where enough to send shivers running down your spine.

He quickly slid a hand down burying two digits deep inside your gummy walls, curling and scissoring them until you were a whimpering mess above him, head buried in his chest, hips still moving in fluid motion, fucking yourself on his fingers nice and slow, taking your pleasure, getting more and more vocal as you neared your release, just mere hair length away.

Your pants and whines were music to his ears as they flicked back and forth at your sweet voice, as you begged him for more, voice loud and careless from the amount of pleasure coursing through you, his fingers brushing against your sweet spot repeatedly making stars burst through your vision “wari… I’m gonna… I’m gonna cumm'' you don’t know that was a demand, a plea or a request because you were far too gone to think about it “cum for me, paskalin, let me taste you” as if on command, the coil snapped, gushing over his thick fingers as your head fell over his shoulder, eyes drooping close, sweat beading on your pristine teal skin bathed in fire light “good girl, yawne” he growled massaging and rolling your swollen clit between his fingers, not giving your poor pussy a break, even while you came down your high.

Your breathy moans kept his cock throbbing hard, to intensify the aftermath even more, he connected your Queues together, a series of moans could be heard as he kept you nestled in his lap, toying with your pussy, nipping at your shoulder and neck with a content sigh as this sight was only for him.

He pulled back within a blink of an eye, he laid you down on the mat hovering above you as he trailed a line of kisses from to the base of your throat, to the valley of your breasts, kissing and sucking on one of them while kneading the other roughly, his other hand spreading your legs wide, finally resting it on the plush of your thigh as he nuzzled his hips between them, rubbing his clothed cock against your dripping folds, you groaned as you felt his tightness, your hands coming up and tangling them in his long locks, thrusting your hips up, eyes closed, lips parted, begging for more.

His warm taunting chuckle on the swell of your breast made goosebumps rise on your torso, seeing your desperate need for him to dick you down “mawey, Muntxate, have patience” his hand cupping your wet cunt, sneaking in his middle finger and claiming another desperate whine from you “wari… please!!” another chuckle from him was your only answer from him, throwing your legs over his shoulder as he removed his fingers and his loincloth, brandishing his cock out and pressing it on your folds, coating it with your juices before aligning it with your awaiting hole “you ready, baby girl?” your eager nod made his smirk widen “don’t worry, pearl, we just started for tonight” he chuckled as he pulnged in…

𝐀/𝐧 : Tonowari and his thighs are going to be the death of me!!!

Yawne : @taylormarieee, @persefolli, @eyweveng, @deadgirlrin, @eyrina-avatar, @avatarsslut, @neteyamsoare, @bobthe-turmpetman29, @nonniesworld, @zanabelle99, @thehoneymushroomhealer, @neteyamgfs, @xylianasblog.

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charlosvibesonly · 3 months

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Racing Hearts- Part 4

Pairing : Max x fem!reader/driver

it's fun when two enemies turn into lovers? but what happens when those two lovers are back to being enemies?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

After that race, the following weeks were filled with an icy silence between you and Max. Interviews became a thing of the past as both of you were determined to focus on the championship.

In a flashback, when a persistent reporter dared to ask Max about the incident, his response was dismissive and defensive. "I don't see what the problem is," he retorted with a nonchalant shrug. "If Y/N has an issue, maybe she should focus on learning to race properly."

The nature of his response only fueled the animosity between you and Max, deepening the chasm that had formed.

Weeks passed, and it was the Singapore Grand Prix. The glittering lights of Singapore's nightlife painted the city with a vibrant glow. You took to the club to forget both about the race, and Max.

The club was alive with pulsating music, and you and Lando were in the center of it all, lost in the rhythm of the dance floor. Lando's fluid moves and confident charm made it impossible not to follow his lead. The playful banter between you two created a magnetic energy that seemed to draw everyone in, but little did you know that turmoil was brewing in the shadowy corners of the club.

As the beat intensified, Lando pulled you into a spin, his eyes locked onto yours. "You know, Y/N, dancing with you is almost as exhilarating as a race. Maybe even better," he said with a cheeky grin.

You laughed, enjoying the carefree moment in Lando's company. "Well, maybe you should consider a career change, Lando. Dancing suits you."

Meanwhile, Max watched from the bar, his eyes glued to the scene on the dance floor. His jaw clenched, his fists tightened as he gripped the edge of the counter. Anger simmered beneath the surface, and hurt lingered in the depths of his gaze.

Lando, oblivious to Max's scrutiny, continued to lead you through the dance floor. He spun you again, drawing you in closer. "You know, Y/N, I've always wondered what it's like to dance with the competition," he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief.

You smirked, feeling a twinge of guilt but relishing the temporary escape from the complexities of your rivalry with Max. "Well, wonder no more, Lando. Here we are."

The music soared, and as the dance floor embraced the rhythm, Max, overwhelmed with a cocktail of emotions, made a decision. He pushed away from the bar, leaving the club without a word, the door closing behind him with a heavy thud.

You and Lando decided to stay back for a little vacation in Singapore.

You won the Grand Prix. As the vacation unfolded, you both decided to embrace the break from the high-stakes world of racing. From quirky cafes to scenic spots, your Instagram stories painted a picture of a budding relationship, fueling the already intense debate among fans.

One afternoon, as the sun dipped below the skyline, you and Lando sat by the waterfront. The city lights reflected in the water, creating a serene ambiance. You took a moment to address the elephant in the room.

"Lando, I need to be clear about something. This vacation, these moments we're sharing, it's about friendship for me," you said, your tone sincere.

Lando nodded a genuine smile on his face. "I get it, Y/N. No pressure. Friends it is."

The understanding between you two laid the foundation for a genuine connection of friendship.

The fans, however, remained divided. Some were thrilled by the seemingly lighter and more carefree dynamic, while others deemed it a strategic move to distract from the racing drama between you and Max.

The next race, the Japanese Grand Prix, was the championship decider. You had waited all your life for this. The efforts of the years, and your parents’ sacrifices, all were waiting to be paid off.

Back at Milton Keynes, you unexpectedly ran into Max. As Max approached, his eyes held a storm of emotions. "We need to talk, Y/N," he said, his voice edged with urgency.

Your response, however, was laced with biting sarcasm. "Oh, do we now? Must be something groundbreaking you want to share, Max."

He sighed, attempting to keep his composure. "This isn't helping us, Y/N. We're teammates, whether you like it or not."

A scoff escaped your lips. "Teammates? Funny way to put it when you're so quick to throw me under the bus."

The corridor echoed with the unresolved tension, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you and Max. It was a clash of wills, a collision of egos, and neither was willing to yield.

Max, sensing the futility of the moment, tried once more. "We can't keep racing like this. It's affecting the team."

You just scoffed and walked away. The sparks of conflict remained, unresolved and simmering beneath the surface, ready to erupt at the slightest provocation.

Race day in Japan arrived, and the championship decider. The atmosphere was full of excitement as the lights went out. The race was intense, with wheel-to-wheel battles and adrenaline-fueled maneuvers. In a crucial corner, you and Max found yourselves locked. You tried to turn, but it was too fast. It ended in a collision, both of you out of the race, and a red flag waving in the air.

“You never know what you will get to see in Formula 1. This was the race where we would have had our champion. But both contenders are out of the race!”

Entering the garage, Max took your hand, leading you to a private space. The storm in his eyes matched the storm in his heart as he unleashed his frustration.

"You fucker. You cost me my championship!" Max spat, the frustration etched across his face, his usually calm demeanor shattered by the intensity of the moment.

This wasn't the Max you had cooked dinner with. It wasn't the Max who had made you laugh. It certainly wasn't the Max who had seemed to genuinely like you.

"Do you honestly expect an apology? You, of all people, took me out of the race! I could already be a champion right now if it weren't for your reckless move," you retorted, anger flashing in your eyes, matching the fire in Max's gaze.

Max's accusation sliced through the air like a dagger, "This was your plan all along, wasn't it? To use me? And now you are fucking Lando?"

"You're an asshole!" Tears welled up in your eyes, a mix of frustration, hurt, and anger cascading down your cheeks.

"I shouldn't have trusted you," he said in a defeated voice, his accusation hitting you like a punch to the gut.

"If that's how you see me, fine. But brace yourself, Max. In the next race, there won't be any mistakes, and mark my words, that championship trophy will have my name on it," you declared defiantly before storming out of the room.

But he caught up, pulling you into a dark store room.

#max verstappen #f1 #lando norris #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1

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noodle-bin · 7 months

Text

Bleed Me An Ocean

Vamp!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

Summary: Leon visits his lover at night and ensues in a night of passion, but not without a little extra lube.

CW: Bloodplay, blood used as lube, masochism, smut, f receiving oral, mildly dubious consent

Word Count: 2.2k

Ao3 crosspost

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You sat at your vanity, looking at your reflection in the dimly lit room as you brushed your hair. Candles littered the room, making shadows dance all around your bedroom walls. There was a feint playing of music in the corner of the room, your phonograph playing sweet notes. You hummed along, preoccupied with applying your night cream, adoring the sensation as the cream melted into your skin. You were so busy with your task at hand, that you barely noticed the sound of your window lock opening until you felt the cool breeze of the night coming in. You got excited immediately, knowing Leon had come to visit you. You heard his footsteps behind you, but you couldn't see him through the reflection of your mirror.

"Princess," Leon purred, making his way to you. He let his hands trail down your shoulders to the sides of your arms, kissing the crown of your head. You turned your head to look up at him, noticing the black veins adorning his face, slightly covered by his bangs. His eyes were red, piercing into you, taking in the sight of your satin dress barely covering your thighs, your nipples noticeable against the thin fabric. While you let him adore you, you took in his scent. He smelled divine, like bergamot mixed with citrus.

"Leon, I'm glad you came." You got out of your chair and wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him in for a hug. This caused Leon to immediately burrow his face into the crook of your neck. He groaned in excitement, kissing your soft skin. Kiss by kiss, lick by lick, his mouth traveled to that sweet junction in your neck. The sound of your artery pumping blood was music to his ears. You exposed your neck further, enticing him to give in and taste you. Leon hesitated, holding you by the curve of your waist. He didn't really like to inflict pain on you, but he loved to hear your soft pants as you arched your back against him every time he fed from you.

“Please, Leon. Feed from me,” your fingers curled in his hair, pulling him closer to you. You waited with anticipation, feeling Leon's breath against your warm skin. Finally, you felt the piercing pain. It was hot, and sharp, leaving you dizzy, but you adored it. It was the best pain imaginable, dancing on the fine line of pleasure and pain. It shouldn’t feel so good to have your lover feed on you, your hot blood dripping down your neck onto your satin pajamas, but you loved it. The stinging pain quickly melted into pleasure as he drew blood from you, holding your frail frame against him. He indulged in the taste of you, feeling your small frame give into him.

Leon pulled away quickly, lapping at the mess he had made on you. It was hell stopping himself from sucking you dry, but he forced himself to stop. He kissed up your neck, and your jaw, traveling up your lips. You turned to face him and kissed him deeply, dizzy from the pain and loss of blood. You tasted the metallic taste on Leon’s lips, his fangs bumping into your teeth from the desperation of your kiss. He finally pulled away, letting you rest your head against his chest, your legs feeling wobbly from beneath you. The both of you stayed like this for a small while, your body aflame from being fed on only moments ago. The erotic pain was pooling heat between your thighs, and your dizziness only intensified Leon's presence against you. There was nowhere in the world where you didn't feel safer than in Leon's arms.

"Leon," you started, looking up at him. His red eyes met yours, his thumb rubbing across your lips.

"What is it, princess? Did I hurt you?" Leon was immediately concerned.

"No, no. I.." Your face felt hot with shame, too embarrassed to ask something so simple from Leon. It wasn't like the both of you hadn't slept together all the time. It was simply torture asking for it.

“Leon I need you,” you whimpered against him.

“Yeah? How do you want me?” Leon purred, his calm demeanor returning.

“You know,” your head nudged towards the bed.

Leon chuckled at your vague answer. “You’ve gotta be more specific.”

You pouted, knowing he knew damn well what you wanted. You squeezed your thighs together, the ache continuing to develop from all of the pain and kissing. Leon noticed this, pushing his hips against yours so you could feel his bulge.

“How am I supposed to please my princess if she can’t tell me what she wants?” Leon licked his lips, his tongue trailing against his fangs. You looked at him with your signature puppy eyes, looking deep into his red eyes.

“Please Leon, you know what I want,” you protested. You refused to say any more than what you had already told him.

Leon could only look down at you and adore you. Your heavenly body, the taste of your blood, the simple way your moans left your mouth as you arched your back in pain and pleasure when he fed from you. It took everything in him to stop himself from sucking you dry. And here you were, begging to be fucked by him moments after he fed from you. He really hit the jackpot.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Leon grinned and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder. He slapped your ass, making you squeal, as he carried you over to the bed. You fell with an oomph, your short pajama dress doing nothing to conceal you at this point. Your nipples were hard against the fabric, stained from your blood. Leon crept closer, his large frame overwhelming, before he dipped his head down between your thighs. He pushed them apart, showing him your slick-covered panties.

“Wet already? You’re going to taste divine,” Leon praised before kissing your clothed cunt. The heat from his mouth was erotic as he pressed his tongue against your sensitive clit before trailing his tongue downwards. The pressure of his tongue against you made you frustrated at the panties separating you from him.

“More, Leon,” you whined.

“More? Hmph, I’ll give you more.” Leon pulled away and pulled your panties off before he grabbed your wrist.

“You’re going to make a fine meal,” Leon purred, kissing your wrist before his fangs pierced your flesh.

You squealed at the sudden pain, closing your thighs from the pleasure. As quick as he had bitten you, he pulled away, pushing your thighs apart. Your hot blood dripped out of your arm, and with the way Leon had it positioned, it fell straight onto your cunt. You stared in shock as you felt hot drops of your own blood fall onto your sensitive clit, dripping down your wet folds, mixing with your slick.

“W-wait, Leon,” you were scared, but you hated how hot it looked. Leon, content with the amount of blood covering your cunt, licked your wounds clean before dipping his head back down between you. He basically moaned at the taste of you, the taste of your sweet blood mixed with your delicious slick. Lick by lick, he lapped away at the mess he had made of you. Sucking on your clit, sucking on your sweetness, before his tongue pushed into your needy cunt, your own blood following right along. You felt him push his tongue father into you, his nose bumping into your clit. You arched your back from the pleasure, forgetting about the blood entirely, hands gripping Leon’s hair. Leon pushed your thighs up against your chest, opening you wider to the torture from his mouth.

“So fuckin’ good,” Leon moaned, eating you like you were his final meal. The way he knew exactly where to push his tongue, building the heat in your abdomen, made you go crazy. You cried out as you listened to the lewd noises of Leon's tongue fucking your wet folds, his lips becoming shiny with blood. Your thighs trembled against him, melting into the pleasure he was bringing you. He finally slipped a finger inside, curling toward that sensitive bundle of nerves he knew so well. You threw your head back, feeling him press against that sensitive spot all while sucking on your clit. You begged for more, the heat in your belly becoming unbearable as Leon pushed you further to the edge. He finally slipped another finger inside, his lips covered in your blood as he continued to bully your sensitive bud.

"Come for me, princess," Leon groaned as he continued to taste your sweet cunt, the taste of your blood bringing him to his own high. Sucking ever so gently on your clit, pushing his tongue further against your sensitive bud to taste the remnants of the blood he has licked away from you.

“L-Leon I-“You could barely get it out before you finally came, trembling around his tongue as he continued to draw out your orgasm, sucking on your clit.

He finally withdrew, letting you collect yourself while he took his pants and underwear off, crawling back to you. You looked at him in a daze, seeing the blood coating his lips. “Do it again, Leon. Use my blood,” you said as you offered your other wrist. Either you went crazy from the blood loss or the orgasm, maybe both, but you desperately wanted Leon to smear your blood on your cunt again.

Leon’s red eyes filled with excitement, biting into your wrist with no hesitation. This time, he fed on you for a little longer before pulling away, letting your blood drip back onto your cunt. He was in a daze, watching your puffy clit get covered in your own blood, dripping down onto your wet folds. Content with the amount, he licked your wound clean before using his cock to rub the blood around your folds. The both of you moaned at the wet sounds as Leon slapped his cock against you, adoring the sight.

“What a naughty girl, asking her lover to fuck her with her own blood,” Leon taunted as he continued to play with your entrance. You waited patiently, holding your thighs to your chest, staring at the bright red on your cunt. Leon rubbed his thick cock against your blood-covered entrance before finally pushing in. You whimpered at the stretch, panting at Leon’s sheer size as he bottomed out in you. He began to thrust slowly into your tight cunt, feeling you squeeze around him.

“Relax, baby, you’d think the blood would’ve helped,” Leon laughed a little as he stilled, sitting inside of you while rubbing small circles on your thighs. The both of you sat like this for a small while, your cunt hot with your own blood and Leon's cock. You panted at the sheer size of him, feeling his tip nudge against your cervix. Once he felt your body relax, he continued his thrusts. The slowness turned into desperation from the both of you, leaving you crying out for more. You were on a cock drunk high, the dizziness from the blood loss finally catching up to you. You could only lay there and take Leon's cock, feeling him push deep into you, the lewd noises of him fucking into your wet cunt filling the room. He immediately found your sweet spot, fucking deeply into it with need. You babbled, holding onto Leon's arms as he pounded into you. Your eyes pricked with tears at the sheer amount of pleasure of getting stretched open by Leon's thick cock.

“Fuck, fuck, princess,” Leon groaned as he pushed your thighs down onto your chest, his face burying into your neck. You heard his own needy moans as he fucked deep into you, your own orgasm building up again.

“I’m so close, ugh,” Leon groaned, fucking you deeply. You were so close, so so close, the lewd sounds pushing you closer to the edge. Leon’s own hips became messy, pushing roughly against your sweet spot over and over, bringing you closer to the edge. You barely noticed his hot breath against your neck before he bit into you. You screamed, your orgasm hitting you like a wave. The pleasure mixed with the sharp pain of Leon’s teeth shook your body to the core. You barely noticed Leon’s own orgasm as he came deep inside of you, crying from the overstimulation of your orgasm alongside the pain of being fed on again. Leon's slow thrusts filled your senses as he sipped from you again and again, his body caging you in. The edges of your vision turned black before Leon pulled away.

You looked up at Leon with hazy eyes, your senses fading out slowly.

“Fuck, wait, stay with me,” Leon held your face in his hands, his breath ragged. You whined as you felt Leon’s body retreat from you before you felt a glass of water at your lips. You drank, tasting water immediately. You hummed in pleasure, resting back against the pillows of your bed. Leon pulled you close against him, rubbing small circles into your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. Minutes passed by before you finally came back, feeling weak from everything that had just happened.

"We need to do that again," you giggled.

"I'm afraid not, princess. I lost control there for a bit," Leon’s slow heart squeezed in his chest seeing you look up at him with round eyes.

"You're no fun," you smiled hazily at him.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil leon #kinktober 2023 #vampire leon kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #sorry guys.#cross posted on ao3

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givemequeen · 6 months

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little miss perfect: draco x slytherin!reader

request: draco malfoy x littlemissperfect slytherin!reader and the pair swears they hate each other but at a pureblood party the tension breaks and they end up making out? maybe like blaise or theo or daphne or pansy (their bffs) walk in on them and they’re just like ok at least i don’t need to listen to u guys argue anymkre a/n: i loved this request. might write another draco soon! warnings: sexual tension, make out sesh word count: 1306

Going to this party was a mistake.

You realised that the moment you walked in through the doors and saw Malfoy standing in the middle of the room with a drink in his hand and girls surrounding him. Yet, you still walked in and got yourself a drink and made your way to the dance floor to greet your friends who had dragged you here. Why? Who the fuck knows.

Malfoy was a pain in the ass and despite sharing 90% of your friends, you could not stand him. He was arrogant and snobby, always acting as though he was above everyone else. You never understood why the rest of the guys allowed him to act that way.

"That is just the way he is, honey." Pansy had laughed when you had asked her one day, before turning back to the mirror and putting on another layer of lipstick.

"He's been that way as long as I've known him and, trust me, I've known him for a long time." had been Theo and Blaise's response.

You, being part of a pureblood family, had also known Malfoy for a long time and though he had always acted this way, it seemed it had only gotten worse the older he got.

You were dancing with Pansy and the three drinks you had taken had made you forget Malfoy was even at the party. That is, until his cold drawl came from behind you.

"You call this dancing?" he smirked.

You spun around, skirt swishing in the wind, and scowled at him.

"What do you want, Malfoy? Isn't there some slut out there for you to snog?" you placed your hand on your hip, eyebrow raised in defiance.

"Why would I do that when I could be here, annoying you?" his smirked deepened, intensifying your urge to slap it off of his face. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, I'm only joking."

"You're such a cunt, Malfoy, you know that?"

"Of course I do, how could I not if you keep reminding me every bloody minute?" he clenched his jaw.

"Piss off, I'm dancing with Pansy."

"First of all, you don't own the dance floor and, secondly, there's no way you actually consider what you were doing dancing. Did you fall off a broomstick?"

You huffed and pushed past him, sick of his bullshit.

You needed a break, some fresh air and maybe a fag to get him out of your system. He was always doing this, doing or saying something to get under your skin, to get you riled up.

You made your way out of the common room, away from the deafening music, and up towards the Entrance Hall. Being a Sixth Year had its perks, you were allowed to stay up until later.

As soon as you stepped outside, your regretted not bringing a coat with you. You quickly cast a warmth charm over yourself and though it helped, there was nothing like a good, thick coat to ward off the cold.

Even though you hadn't grabbed a coat, you had grabbed a fag. You placed it between your lips and lit it using your wand, relishing in the way the smoke brunt your lungs. You inhaled that heavenly first puff and closed your eyes as you slowly let the smoke escape your mouth.

You leaned against the castle wall, the stone cold against your bare back, and took another drag, forcing yourself to forget about that git, Malfoy.

"Running away from me, are you?"

Speak of the Devil.

Your eyes shot open and you immedieatly rolled your eyes. Standing in front of you was none other than Draco fucking Malfoy. He, too, had a fag in his mouth and was taking slow, dragged out puffs.

You were about to snap at him, call him names or something, when an idea popped into your mind. You took a long drag and pushed off of the wall.

"You're a bit obsessed with me, aren't you? Following me around and all…" As you spoke, you let the cigarette smoke lazily curl out.

You smiled as you saw the way Malfoy's cheek lit up. But that shocked expression quickly disappeared, immediately replaced by a mischievous grin.

"Lets say I am." he said, taking a step towards you. "So what? You're a fit bird, why wouldn't I be obsessed?"

Your eyes widened in surprise. What the fuck was he saying.

"What is it now, little miss perfect? Cat got your tongue?" he took another step towards you, forcing you to take a step back. You made contact with the stone wall and this time you weren't sure if it was the look in his eyes or the coldness of the stone that made you skin erupt with goosebumps.

"You fuck around, you find out." he was so close to you that you could smell his aftershave.

The atmosphere was charged with tension so thick you could feel it pressing against your skin.

"What are you doing, Malfoy?" your fag was long forgotten on the lush grass. "Go away." but even you could tell how big of a lie that was.

He wrapped his fingers around your chin and forced you to look up at him. His grey eyes were penetrating and invasive, and you were sure he could read your mind, sure that he could see the ways you were imagining him on top of you.

"I don't think you want me to go away." he said, his tone made you shudder. His hair had fallen from its carefully constructed facade, now framing his gorgeous, sharp face.

The air between you crackled with a charged energy, and as he held your gaze captive, the unspoken tension between desire and restraint became palpable. You looked up at him, blinking like an idiot, your mouth half-opened, waiting for him to do something, anything.

Then, when you least expected it, he grabbed your face and kissed you, hard. You gasped against his cold lips and his hands went to your waist, pressing you against him and holding onto you like a lifeline. Your own hands flew to his hair, tugging at the strands.

You bit his lower lip in anger, how dare he kiss you so perfectly? But that just gave him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You moaned as his tongue met yours, gladly giving in. His hand slipped up under your top, quickly gliding over to your left breast.

He squeezed your breast and you moaned, arching your back. His cock was hardening against your inner thigh and you shifted so he would be against where you needed him most. You rolled your hips forward, moaning his name as his thumb went over your hardened nipple-

"Holy fuck."

"Seriously, guys?"

"So, your entire feud was just a lie? You were just horny?"

You pushed Draco away, quickly pulling your shit down to cover yourself. Behind Draco stood Theo, Pansy and Blaise, all with disbelief written all over their faces.

Well, except Pansy, who had a knowing look. She had one hand on her hip and a perfect eyebrow raised in a perfect arch.

"I knew it. Theo, you owe me 20 galleons." she stuck her hand out, a smirk on her face.

"You bet on this?" Malfoy snapped, whirling around. "Can you lot just piss off?"

But he was complete mess and no one could take him seriously; his hair was completely dishevelled, lips red and raw, shirt untucked and crumpled.

No one said anything for a minute until Theo burst out laughing.

"Yeah, mate, we can tell you two are a bit busy." he laughed, his eyes sliding down to Draco's obvious erection.

You couldn't help but laughing as well.

"Well, at least we don't have to listen to you two arguing anymore." Blaise said.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x slytherin!reader #draco malfoy smut #credits to the artist for the fanart!!!

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