cupcakegirl3

[cupcakegirl3]

☆゙ ۫ 🦷‌ ֶָ ࣪ ׅ u get me so high ... 言 ʾʿ ›‹ aka. high! mattheo riddle fucking you stupid

high! mattheo riddle who rolls the joint between his fingers, lazy and slow, like he has all the time in the world. as if you weren't actively lying between his legs, thighs spread wide upon his earlier request, dripping onto the sheets, bare and raw.

just as lazily does he drag his thumb across your slick. you twitch, hips jerking up, but he tsks, presses you back down with one hand firm on your lower stomach.

mumbles how needy you were, 'what, that joint got you all dumb for me?'

you nod. half-lidded eyes, lips glossy, head light and floaty, all you can manage on doing is focus on the feeling of his fingers dragging up and down your soaked cunt, a repeated slow pattern. the little fucker is trying to rile you up.

he taps your clit, just once, just enough to make you whimper, and then he finally — finally— slides two fingers in, slow and deep. crooks them just right. watches the way your mouth drops open, watches the way your pretty little body trembles, and then, fucking hell — he laughs. mean.

he goes on; tsks about you squeezing around him 'already', that weed really does have you fucked up, doesn't it?

his fingers pick up pace, dragging slick noises out of you so loud, so filthy. then, presses his palm down on your lower belly, feels the way your cunt clenches. his free hand trails up, grabs your jaw, forces your dazed eyes to look at him.

“nah, no closing your eyes, sweetheart. you wanted this,” he murmurs, thumb swiping over your swollen bottom lip. he lets you suck it, lets you moan around it, before pulling it out with a soft pop.

you try to say his name, resulting in a string of little 'm's sprawled around the room, before you evntually give up. settling on a moaned 'm'love you'.

[cupcakegirl3]

bucky barnes coming back from a particularly grueling mission but still managing to force his tired body to your door, knock halfhearted.

bucky barnes leaning on your door waiting for you to answer, mumbling curses as he feels all the bruises forming and the blood drying but there's still nowhere he'd rather be than with you.

bucky barnes small stupid lazy smile on his face when he sees you and his lids are half open and everything hurts and his brain is fuzzy but he's just happy enough that he's alive to see you.

bucky barnes falling asleep next to you, his fingertips grazing your sides, his touch so soft and light that it's sending shivers down your spine.

bucky barnes rolling closer to you, his lips by your ear as he whispers the softest goodnight.

bucky barnes bucky barnes bucky barnes

[cupcakegirl3]

season one rafe is so pervy bestfriend rafe he’s so gross and mean and disgusting and nnnghhhgg ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི

rafe’s feet thudded against the floor of your empty house, having let himself in with the key he had copied a few years back. he knew you nor your parents were home, so it gave him the opportunity to do what he wanted.

he has always had a slight crush on you, which as you both got older, it turned into an obsession. a gross, objectifying obsession. he knew he probably shouldn’t think about his bestfriend sucking his dick, or fucking her pretty pussy from the back as often as he does — but who’s to stop him? He’s Rafe Cameron, he does what he likes.

he entered your room, the sweet, faded smell of your candle filling his nose. he glanced around, gliding his fingers across your dresser, before his hand fell to your top drawer, where your panties were.

he opened it, rifling through them until he found his favourite pair — the pink lacy ones. he clutched it in his large hand, not even bothering to close the drawer before going over to your bed.

he sat down, leaning up against the headboard and your soft pillows, letting out a sigh of satisfaction as his other hand grabbed his phone.

it immediately opened to your instagram page, filled with pretty little pictures of you. You at the beach in a skimpy little bikini, in tight little dresses that showed off your pretty little body. he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, shimmying his shorts down enough to free his cock, wrapping your pink panties around it and jerking off slowly.

pre cum dribbled from his angry red tip, making his cock slide easier on the silk part of your panties.

He was panting softly, letting out little groans as he jerked himself off with the lacy silk, in your bed, admiring your pictures.

God, he couldn’t wait until he got his hands on you.

he was so wrapped up in what he was doing, eyes half lidded and lips parted as his hand sped, he didn’t notice your door open, nor your little squeak of surprise at the sight in front of you.

“Rafe?…” You gasped at him, blinking multiple times as if your eyes were playing tricks on you, and that this wasn’t happening.

Upon hearing his name be squeaked from the door way, he turned to look.

instead of jumping up, or stopping, or doing the cliché line of ‘this isn’t what it looks like!’ like any non perverted person would do, he just shrugged.

“Yeah?” He raised his brows, acting as if you were the one being strange, smirking a little as he continued jerking off into your panties.

“Wha—What are you doing? How did you…get here?” You spluttered, eyes glancing between his face and his cock, before staying on his face, cheeks flushed red.

“What’s it look like? ‘N’ I let myself in.” He shrugged, looking back down at the photos of you, letting out soft groan that made your stomach flip.

“Rafe, this — you shouldn’t be in here. What if my dad came in? He would freak—“ You began to ramble, but got cut off once Rafe let out an exasperated sigh, tossing his phone aside.

“C’mere.” He grunted, beckoning you over with a hand as he shuffled in the bed. When he noticed your hesitation, he rolled his eyes before glaring at you.

“M’ not askin’. C’mere, now.”

you slowly made your way over to your bed where he was now knelt, yelping when he grabbed your hand and tugged you down.

“You’re gonna lay here, n watch me jerk off, ‘kay?” He murmured, watching your cheeks flush and hips squirm, glancing between his face and his hand still wrapped around his dick with your lacy panties.

“B–But —“ You squeaked, and he just scoffed, slapping your outer thigh to shut you up.

“Just shut the fuck up ‘n’ watch.”

He began jerking himself off again, this time looking at you instead of your photos. you looked so pretty, with your cheeks all red with embarrassment, hands fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

he smirked down at you, letting out a string of sighs and groans as his free hand went to touch your thigh, slightly spreading your legs for him.

“play with your tits f’me.” he grunted, knelt between your legs and jerking off above you.

it all felt so taboo, this shouldn’t be what bestfriends do, right? they don’t do this.

he rolled his eyes yet again at your hesitation, nudging your leg. “you’re a good friend, right? You wanna make your best friend feel good?” he almost cooed, as if he was mocking you, free hand gently stroking your soft inner thigh.

you gave a soft, shaky nod, eyes drifting to his hand movements for a moment, chewing the inside of your lip as you felt warmth pool in your lower abdomen.

you always had some feelings towards Rafe; whether sexual or romantic, you didn’t know. he was an attractive guy, in his own gross, pervy frat guy way.

“then do what i fuckin’ asked.” he hissed, letting out a lopsided smile of satisfaction as your hands drifted to your chest, softly palming yourself through your shirt.

you let out such a sweet sigh at the feeling, thumbs running over your hardening nipples as you stared at him — now more or less, watching him jerk off as he told you to.

his hand sped, feeling his balls tighten at your sweet little sighs and moans as you played with your tits for your bestfriend.

“pull up your shirt.” he said through gritted teeth before letting out a groan that went straight through your body and to your core.

with your building arousal, you started to no longer care, your embarrassment and hesitation fading as you pulled your shirt up enough to reveal your pretty lacy bra, pulling your tits out of them without him even asking.

he let out a soft laugh, the sound arrogant and smug as he stared down at you, watching you play with your tits, rolling your nipples between your forefinger and thumb.

“rafe…” you moaned, hips twitching towards him as you searched for some form of friction.

“you’re such a fuckin’ slut. you like your best friend jerkin’ off for you? huh? with your panties? knew you fuckin’ would, dirty little bitch.” he laughed mockingly, pushing your skirt up to your waist to reveal your cotton panties, clinging to your cunt with your arousal.

he felt his orgasm rapidly approach at the sight of it.

“Oh, look at you,” he cooed, running a thumb over your clit through the cotton, watching your eyes flutter and a soft whimper fall from your lips. “fuck.” he groaned.

he tore your panties down your legs, pocketing them for later as he stared down at your glistening cunt, clenching around nothing as you whined little pleas at him.

he ignored you, brows pinching together in focus as he stared at your cunt, primal growls and groans falling from his lips as he stroked his dick in sloppy movements.

“f-fuck, shit. fuuck.” he hissed as he came, coating your lacy panties as a few droplets dripped down to your sheets beneath you.

you let out a little whimper at the sight of him cumming, his face scrunched up and eyes rolled back, breaths coming out ragged and rough.

He let out a low groan as his orgasm faded, and he looked down to see your pink panties stained white with his cum.

He smeared his cum all over the silk with the tip of his cock, smirking to himself as he did so. he made sure to coat the part where your pretty pussy would be, before grabbing your legs.

he slid the panties up your legs, up and over your thighs, before pulling them to rest high on your hips. watching with a sadistic glint in his eyes and a mocking smirk as you gasped a breathy whine at the feeling of his warm cum against your cunt, thighs moving to clench together.

“Rafe —“ you whimpered, reaching out for him as he tucked himself back into his shorts, climbing off your bed and walking to your door.

“catch you later.” he said nonchalantly, leaving you in your bed — horny, wet, and with his cum on your cunt.

[cupcakegirl3]

𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓼𝓽-𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮

parings: rafe cameron x reader

synopsis: in the title

warnings: 18+, smut

the tension finally snaps: it’s been simmering forever....his lingering stares, the way his hand "accidentally" brushes your thigh. you both know what’s coming, but neither of you wants to be the one to say it. instead, it explodes. maybe it’s after a fight, his voice low and dangerous as he steps too close. or maybe it’s a quiet moment that turns electric, his lips hovering over yours before he finally snaps.

it happens somewhere reckless: the backseat of his car, fogged windows and desperate hands pulling at each other’s clothes. or his room, with the door barely shut, your moans spilling out into the hallway. wherever it is, it’s not planned, and that makes it hotter....messy, unrestrained, all-consuming.

his desperation is overwhelming: his kisses aren’t sweet....they’re rough, wet, all tongue and teeth. he grabs you like he can’t get close enough, big hands wrapping around your waist and dragging you onto his lap. “fuck, you have no idea what you do to me,” he growls against your skin, his lips leaving a hot, messy trail down your neck.

he’s so fucking possessive: his hands roam your body like he owns it, gripping your hips, your ass, sliding between your legs like he’s been waiting forever to do it. “you’re mine,” he mutters, dark and low, while his fingers dip inside you. “no one else gets to touch you like this. no one.”

messy, hungry, and completely unhinged: your clothes are everywhere, half-ripped, half-forgotten. he’s muttering filthy things into your ear, like, “you feel so fucking tight,” or, “god, you’re so wet for me.” his thrusts are relentless, almost frantic, the bed creaking under his weight as he fucks you like he can’t hold back anymore.

he takes control, but he’s watching you fall apart: he tells you how to move, what to do.....“ride me, baby, just like that.” but it’s the way you moan his name, the way your body arches, that drives him insane. he can’t help himself, gripping your hips harder, guiding your movements until you’re both losing control.

he can’t stop touching you after: even after it’s over, he’s not done. his arm stays wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, his lips brushing against your temple. “fuck, you’re perfect,” he murmurs, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your skin. the cocky smirk is still there, but there’s something softer in his eyes when he looks at you.....something that makes your chest ache.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl

[cupcakegirl3]

could you maybe do more pervy rafe🙃🙃🙃

pervy, fratty, gross bestfriend rafe how i love u. kinda wanna eat him. check out my 2k post if ur interested <3

cw > throat fucking/training, shyish reader, pervy!bestfriend!rafe, unprotected sex, crying, possessive/jealous rafe, dub con, corruption?

recently you had been going on a few dates with this one guy for a few weeks now, and it was going really well. one problem, you knew he expected sex. which wasn’t the problem, the problem was that you never had sex before.

few middle school kisses, but nothing past that. you knew rafe, your bestfriend since forever, had tons of experience with sex. he always told you the stories — in antagonising detail — of his hook ups, purely because he liked watching you squirm about it.

so, you figured you’d go to him for…help. you told him you were coming over, and left it at that.

you had made it to the empty house of tannyhill, and knew immediately rafe was in his room — the loud music making that abundantly clear. wiping the anxious sweat from your clammy hands, you made your way to his bedroom, and walked in without knocking.

you were met with the loud music, the smell of cologne, and general boy smell, and then rafe. led in his bed, scrolling away on his phone. upon seeing you he smiled, turning down his volume and sitting up.

“hey, pretty girl.” he greeted, turning his phone off and bringing his attention to you. when he saw you stood there, at the edge of his bed, fiddling with your own fingers with an anxious look — he felt a pang of worry.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, patting the bed for you to sit. you scooted next to him, swallowing nervously. “um— so, there’s…there’s this guy—” immediately his eyes darken and he’s on edge.

“did he hurt you?” “no! no, no. he’s great, really great.”

honestly, rafe didn’t know if that was better.

“it’s just, uhm. me and him have been on a couple dates now, and i’m seeing him on friday, and i think we’re gonna…” you trailed off, staring over at him and just silently hoping he would get the message. oh he did, and he didn’t like it one bit.

you? his girl? going on dates with this undoubtedly pathetic, stupid low life? now you’re gonna fuck? nah.

but still, he wanted to hear you say it.

“gonna…what?” he asked, voice low as he leant back against the headboard with an air of nonchalance — though his darkened eyes and clenched jaw painted a different picture.

“um. i think me ‘n him are gonna…have sex.” you finally admitted, and suddenly rafe wished he didn’t hear you say it. it made it worse.

“‘kay? why’re you tellin’ me?” he sounded almost annoyed by such a fact you’ve given him.

“well, i’ve never….done that stuff, and I was wondering if you could teach me.” rafe practically lit up and beamed at that sentence, posture straightening as he smirked.

“yeah. yeah, ‘could do that.”

you don’t know how it happened, all you wanted was for him to maybe talk you through it, explain to you how to make a man feel good, but here you are. left in nothing but your flimsy tank top, white lace panties, with rafe’s big hand on the back of your head to shove you down on his cock. you had tears streaming down your face, forehead touching his pelvis.

“fuuuck, jus’ like that,” he groaned, head tipped back, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. you held his thighs either side your head, neat nails digging into them and leaving crescent shapes.

“shit, suck that other guys dick like this and y’r good.” he held your head down with both his hands, your throat constricting around him as you gagged and cried. he softly thrusted his hips upwards, as if trying to nestle himself impossibly deeper in your warm mouth.

whimpering around him as a gross — borderlining on humiliating — squelch filled the room as he fucked your throat, his unashamed groans filling his room. you could barely breathe, barely think — the only thing on your mind being air. you squirmed, trying to shift away from him.

“nah,” he breathed, a large, strong leg going over your back and locking you in place. “you wanted to learn, you’re gonna learn.”

he grew more aggressive in his thrusts, feeling his dick twitch in your mouth. he knew his orgasm was rapidly approaching, and as good as this felt, he didn’t want to cum down your throat.

he wanted to fill you up — to claim every bit of you as his own. he didn’t want this pathetic date to be the first guy to fuck, and cum, inside your perfect pussy.

he decided he was the only man who could, would, and will do that from now on.

he moved his leg, positioning it back beside you instead, and lifted his hands from your head. you immediately shot up with a sob filled gasp, drool dripping down your chin as you slumped against his stomach. his heart practically jumped at the sight. oh, he’s ruined you.

“shh, shh. you’re okay, hm?” he cooed, lifting you effortlessly to lay against his chest as you tried to catch your breath. he cradled you, tucking your head into his neck as he rubbed your back.

“‘m okay — ‘m’fine.” you whimpered, hands holding onto his side as you cried into his neck.

“yeah? think i could teach you somethin’ else?” he asked, but didn’t wait for an answer as he tugged down your panties — huffing a groan when he ran his fingers through your slick folds. “who knew fuckin’ your bestfriend would get you so wet.” he mumbled, petting your hair as you let out an embarrassed cry.

he just laughed at you, grabbing his dick to align it with your cunt. he slowly pushed in, letting out a guttural groan at how tight you were — the sound making your body warm and head spin. your nails dug into him at the sting of the stretch, tears brimming your eyes again.

he gave you a moment to adjust, despite not necessarily wanting to. it was polite, he knew he was a big guy.

“you good, baby?” he mumbled against your ear, nose nuzzling your hair and taking a deep inhale.

“mhm. ‘can move.” you whimpered, pushing your head further into his neck. he wasted no time, pushing all the way into you and burying himself to the hilt. he let out a long, breathy growl.

it was finally happening — he was fucking his bestfriend. after months, shit, years, of fucking his own fist to your instagram pictures, or your panties he stole. and now he was finally buried in your warm, tight cunt — and he isn’t going back.

he wrapped his arms around your waist, locking you into place against his chest as his heels dug into his mattress. “fuck, ‘ain’t lettin’ you see that guy.” he hissed, thrusting his hips upwards so hard the air was knocked out of you.

you almost said what guy, the memory of your date with him completely fucked out of your brain.

“you’re mine, you understand?” he growled, hand going to grip your ass before laying a harsh smack, your loud, wanton moans and fucked out cries filling the room like a porno movie.

“answer me.” he demanded, thrusting so deep inside you, you swore he was brushing your cervix.

“‘m yours! ‘all yours, rafe.” you cried, and he felt satisfaction wash through him at your moaned confession of finally being his. he was gonna fucking ruin you for anybody else.

“yeah, this is my pussy now.”

tags ⋆₊˚⊹ — @rafeinterlude @rafesbowbunny @rafestoothbrush @sarahsangelicdoll @rafesslutt @glitterybombshell @anitaxl

[cupcakegirl3]

omfg luvvvv

⋆˙⟡♡ VENUS IN TAURUS

venus in taurus enjoys indulging in extravagances and luxury. this placement values loyalty and a partner who’s equally as interested in pursuing pleasure. in bed, a taurus venus commits and keeps going until they reach a point of personal satisfaction.

cult leader!theo nott x reader

warnings: 18+ mdni, intox kink, dubcon, unprotected p in v, choking, breath play, praise

nav // event / more

it’s a true wonder how you ended up in teacher theodore’s room so quickly after joining the commune. you haven’t been here for long, just a couple of weeks, and you’re already here, straddling his lap; his hand rests lazily on your hip, rubbing circles into your skin – his warmth seeps through the fabric of your thin white robe, making your lower body tingle with pleasure. your eyes are fixed on his beautiful face, though it’s hard for them to stay all the way open – the wine he’s feeding you makes your head spin more and more with each sip you obediently take.

"you’re enjoying that?" he asks, his voice smooth and low, like a big cat’s purr. you nod as you swallow another little portion – the wine is really good, tart and sweet, no doubt expensive, as is the silver goblet theodore’s holding up at your lips. he hums in approval of your answer, nudging your lips with the cold metallic edge once again.

you take a sip again, a bigger one this time, and cough – the alcohol is pretty strong, too, tickling your throat from the inside. theodore smirks, but you barely see it – your vision is already blurry, his features growing less and less defined. you fail to notice the way his hand creeps down to your thigh, rolling up the hem of your robe. then, you’re suddenly aware of your naked state when his fingers slide through your folds, wet and welcoming. theodore raises an eyebrow, taking in the fact that you’re not wearing any underwear.

"were you expecting this?"

your cheeks are flushed from embarrassment, or it’s just the effect of this amazing wine – you’re not sure anymore.

"i’m sorry," you mumble, slurring the words out; your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, every syllable taking too much effort to get out. and yet, the haze of your mind tells you there’s nothing to be embarrassed about – the teacher is enjoying this, so naturally, his pleasure is yours too.

"don’t be," theodore murmurs, placing the goblet on the table next to the couch you’re seated on. his gaze, calm yet unmistakably heated, roams over your body, lingering on your nipples, hard underneath the fabric. "you’re very pretty like that."

he lifts up your hips just a little, to slide off his pants, and you can’t help looking down – he isn’t wearing any underwear too, which only means that he wanted to have you from the very beginning. his cock is hard, throbbing against your heat as he grabs it at the base, rubbing the tip against your aching clit. a moan erupts from your throat, a bit louder than the situation calls for, but the alcohol does all sorts of things to your self-control; more specifically, completely demolishes the last remnants of it.

theodore drags the tip of his cock to your entrance, spreading it open. the hand on your hip tightens just a little as he pushes you down onto him, his hips lifting up to fill you to the very brim. your lips part as another moan escapes them, your hands fumbling, struggling to keep your body upright against theodore’s shoulders. he watches intently as your eyes droop with pleasure and increasing intoxication, the wine doing wonders to relax your muscles and heighten the state of your arousal. he starts thrusting into you, each movement slow and deep, and his hand maps out the curves of your body as it travels up, up, up…

your bottom lip trembles as his fingers wrap around your throat, pressing at your pulse point – your hearts beats quickly, wildly, just for him. he holds you up by your neck, and you can feel your body going limp in his grip, which only makes the pressure on your throat stronger. your mind is perfectly clouded with the lack of air and the alcohol running through your veins, and your moans grow breathier, hoarser. you give up trying to keep your eyes on theodore, your eyelids closing, the veil of darkness falling around you. the only sense still intact is your hearing, but it gets muffled more and more each time theodore’s cock plunges deeper, hitting your cervix with firm, precise thrusts.

"that���s it, darling, that’s it." his voice is a low hum, soft like silk in the heated atmosphere of the room; his thumb gently strokes the side of your throat, pressing in from time to time, as if to remind who’s in control. your nails dig into his shirt, and if you were fully conscious, you’d be embarrassed for rumpling his perfectly smooth clothes – yet right now, you can’t find it in yourself to care. he feels too good, too out of this world moving inside of you, and it’s not long before you let go. the orgasm crashes in waves, carrying you up to the very heavens, and you feel that if you died at this very moment, you’d die the happiest you’ve ever been.

"such a good girl," theodore murmurs as he slows down, his hips stilling after he feels your body growing even heavier. he lets go of your throat, and you almost whine from the disappointment of losing this delicious pressure. oxygen rushes rapidly back into your brain, only making you dizzier, so you barely register theodore’s hands tugging you down from his lap, onto the floor in front of him.

"you’re gonna make me feel good now, won’t you, darling?" he murmurs, dragging the warm, slick tip of his cock along you lips. you mindlessly nod, your eyes still half-lidded with wine and pleasure – of course, you will. and you quickly realize that you always will.

[cupcakegirl3]

short wandanat drabble

tw: NON-CON, kidnapping, corruption, virginity taking, dom!natasha, daddy kink (nat), mommy kink (wanda), choking, slapping, spitting, use of slut, dacryphilia ,religious views (if you squint)

a/n: thinking of making this a series lmk

“No Natty I don’t wanna…”

This poor, innocent little thing. Natasha was quick to wrap a firm hand around her doll's throat. “That’s not what you fucking call me.” She whispered into her ear.

She trembled under her, eyes screwing shut as tears began to form. Natasha had thought they were past this step. She had been living with them for a month now. How many times had she come apart on her fingers? on her tongue?

“Where’s mommy?”

That, now that deserved a quick slap. Mommy it was always with mommy with her girl. Wanda was currently preparing their bedroom for the aftermath of all this. She would join them in a bit. But that was besides the point.

“It’s just us slut.” She spit onto her girl's waiting face. “Isn’t that fun.”

Tears began spilling out. “Daddy please I don’t wanna—“

“Oh my god shut up.” They had kidnapped her a month ago, she should be over it by now. “You don’t get a fucking say. Plus…”

Natasha’s fingers pressed down on her panty covered pussy; wet.

“Such a fucking slut. So wet for me.”

Another sob escaped her throat. “But Daddy we aren’t even married and I’ve never done it—“

“We’ve been married for a while now, you just didn’t know it.” Natasha firmly pressed down on her warm perfect pussy. A soft whine escaped her mouth. “Be a good girl, let daddy take your virginity.”

[cupcakegirl3]

⋆౨ৎ bassist!reader helps drummer!mattheo and lead singer!theo unwind after a show

nav // aus / band au // more

finally writing for this au. couldn’t get this out of my head for a while now, and it’s also my first time properly writing a threesome of any kind, so hopefully you enjoy <3

warnings: 18+ mdni, drug use, oral threesome, blowjob turned rough, throat bulge, gagging, some spitting, masturbation (m receiving), mutual masturbation (m x m), bi mattheodore, praise, cursing

lorenzo went off somewhere again – probably to the tour bus to have fun with another groupie. you were just a little miffed about that, because you wanted to get some, enzo was the first to volunteer before the other two could get a word in, and now he was nowhere to be seen. you couldn’t be too mad at him, though – he’d always been a lighthead, in more ways than one.

you walked into your shared dressing room and were immediately greeted by a sight that wasn’t a surprise, yet never failed to amuse you. theo and mattheo were sprawled on the couch next to each other, passing a joint between them. mattheo was completely naked and theo only had his concert tank top on – a tight and cropped little black thing that perfectly showed off the lean muscles of his torso. their legs were spread, mattheo’s right one thrown over theo’s left thigh, and their hands were on each other’s cocks.

they lazily jerked each other off, unhurried and completely relaxed, the weed seemingly taking effect by that point. once the door behind you closed, both of them looked at you with cheeky, knowing smirks on their faces. theo blew out a small whiff of smoke and put out the joint against the table next to the couch, leaning further back into the plush surface.

"baaaaby," mattheo drawled, giving you a stupidly adorable grin and extending an arm towards you, making a grabby hand in your direction. you chuckled, shaking your head, and made a few slow steps towards the boys. they didn’t even think of stopping what they were doing, their hands still moving up and down on each other’s hard and, as you could notice under the dim lighting of the room, dripping cocks. you knew that they got especially horny under the influence, which amused you even more, but also gave you a perfect idea.

without a word, you knelt on the floor in front of them, and they perked up a bit, though their poses were still as relaxed as ever. they exchanged a look and simultaneously dropped their hands from their cocks. mattheo put his by his sides on the couch, and theo rested one on his stomach, the other one ending up on mattheo’s thigh. both of them gazed at you with as much hunger as their glassy eyes and widened pupils allowed; theo’s lips were parted, and mattheo was wetting his, taking shallow breaths through his mouth.

"cazzo, principessa… come sei dolce," theo murmured, a content smile quirking up his lips as your hands started kneading their thighs, approaching their aching cocks inch by inch. mattheo hummed in agreement, all of you having gotten used to theo’s italian by now and even starting to understand some stuff.

"you’re dolce," you answered, a teasing lilt to your voice, and theo chuckled in response, undoubtedly at your accent. his chuckle stuttered, turning into a low moan as your hands finally wrapped around their lengths, mattheo’s grunt joining him with more volume.

you didn’t spend too much time jerking them off since they did a pretty good job on that themselves – by the amount of precum leaking from their tips you could tell it wouldn’t take them too long to cum, and you wanted a taste before that happened. you scooted a bit to the right, mattheo being the first whose cock ended up in your mouth. your tongue swirled around, gathering his slickness, and you pulled away enough to spit it back, your fingers spreading the liquid along his entire length before diving back in.

"fuck," he breathed out, his hand loosely clutching the edge of the couch as his half-lidded eyes roamed over your face, fixated on your lips wrapped around him in the most enticing way. slowly, you started sucking, hollowing out your cheeks to provide more friction, while stroking theo’s dick at the same time. both of them were moaning above you, their hips twitching up every other second, and theo still had some sense in his hazy mind to caress mattheo’s thigh, which only made the latter’s pleasure more intense.

a couple of minutes later, when you started feeling theo getting restless, the movements of his hips growing a bit more sloppy, you pulled away from mattheo. he barely noticed, too lost in the world of bliss, especially since the stimulation never stopped, your hand coming in to take the place of your lips. you switched to the other side, finally taking theo’s cock into your mouth, which made him groan and impatiently grab your hair. you giggled but decided not to tease, since it was painfully obvious just how eager he was. you head started bobbing up and down as you sucked theo off, the sounds getting wetter and wetter from the amount of drool you produced due to theo being deliciously big. you choked a bit when his tip slipped into your throat, but you quickly adjusted – you were pretty used to his size already.

when you felt his cock starting to throb, you took it as a sign of him getting close, which prompted you to switch to mattheo again. a low, needy growl rumbled in his chest as he caught the sight of your pretty lips wrapped around him, his hips instantly rutting up, pushing his entire length right down your throat. you gagged again as you felt his thick cock stretching out your walls, and you were pretty sure that if you placed a hand on your throat, you’d feel his tip grinding against it from the inside. mattheo was very clearly impatient, his hand grabbing a fistful of your hair as he started shoving you up and down. he had always had a thing for throatfucking, and you didn’t mind at all, eagerly allowing him to use you as a means to get off.

theo was watching the scene through his thick eyelashes, moaning louder from time to time when your hand squeezed him just a bit tighter. when mattheo started getting close, he immediately caught that. without a word, his head turned to the side, and his hand made its way up mattheo’s body to the back of his head. theo pulled him into a messy kiss, his fingers getting tangled in mattheo’s curls, both of them groaning against each other’s lips. when you looked up, met by the sight of your boys passionately making out, you felt the heat that had been building up in your stomach increase tenfold, and you knew right that moment that you had to make them finish as soon as possible to take care of your needs too. you picked up the pace under mattheo’s insistent hand, and soon, he was loudly panting against theo, string after string of his cum releasing into your mouth.

you quickly lapped up the remnants and switched to theo, who was already on the very edge. as your lips closed around him, his hips pushed up, and you knew you’d be hoarse as hell the next day when his tip roughly hit the back of your throat. theo desperately licked into mattheo’s mouth, the latter’s jaw still hanging slack as he came down from his high, and in a matter of seconds, his cum was also dripping down your throat, hot and slightly bitter from his constant smoking.

you were breathless when you pulled away, and your throat was already starting to hurt, but a smile spread on your face at the sight of the guys on the couch. they were now lazily and sloppily making out, catching their own breaths after their intense orgasms. theo’s hand was carding through mattheo’s hair, making him let out quiet little moans into theo’s mouth, while mattheo’s hand cradled the other boy’s cheek, his thumb rubbing soft circles on the flushed skin. they were adorable like that, and truthfully, you could watch them for hours. but you still had your arousal unattended to. both of them shifted their attention when you cleared your throat, identical smirks appearing on their lips when they saw your raised eyebrow. you definitely weren’t leaving the dressing room any time soon.

[cupcakegirl3]

SIXTEEN. drugging — stalker!theo

warnings — smut 18+. noncon. drugging. reader is passed out. male masturbation. ejaculating on an unaware/unconscious person. theo being very creepy. modern au (phones). you are responsible for your own media consumption.

kinkmas mlist. moodboard. more.

“i’m just… going to lie down for— for a bit…” were the last words to escape your mouth as you collapsed onto your soft bed and slowly lost consciousness, much to theo’s satisfaction. he reassured with a soothing tone, telling you it was okay to rest a bit if you needed to and that he could find his way out, as he watched your pretty eyes grow heavy and your body go limp.

theo didn’t have any bad intentions, though— he only wanted to snoop around a little, to freely explore your room without any rush or worry. so he sneakily slipped something in your drink, just enough to help you sleep. but you— you were lying there so peacefully, so breathtakingly still, lightly snoring with your tousled hair falling across your face. he found himself unable to shift his attention away from you.

he tried to fight against it, to just let you be while he took advantage of the freedom to explore your room, but of course, he couldn’t. he should’ve known that beforehand though, that he couldn’t ever resist you, even now, as you lay unconscious on your bed, not moving an inch except for your chest that’s steadily heaving up and down.

so before he realises it, as though losing control of his own actions, he hastily unbuckles his pants and slips his hands into his boxers, rubbing over his stiffened erection, a relieved sigh escaping him. unable to hold back, he frees his leaking cock from his tight boxers, the tip pink, swollen and slick with precum.

oh, how can someone be this beautiful, theo thinks to himself while watching you with full admiration, a sparkle visible in his darkened eyes every time they linger on you. his gaze roams over every inch of you—from your soft hair, down to your bare feet—as he strokes himself with a frantic urgency. every single part of you, he loves. every single part of you, he worships. every single part of you, is his. even if you don’t know it yet.

it only takes a few minutes—two, to be exact, and that’s him trying his best to savour to moment and last long as long as he can—before thick ropes of cum uncontrollably shoot from the head of his cock. and well, fuck. he didn’t necessarily plan to cum all over you and make such a mess, but is it the prettiest, most breathtaking sight he has ever seen? oh, absolutely.

from your face, all the way down to your legs, you are covered in streaks of cum, but still entirely unaware, as you peacefully snore, fully relaxed on the soft bed. theo immediately grabs his phone from his pocket after putting his pants back on— there is no way in hell that he’s leaving without snapping some pictures of the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. useful for later.

he quickly tries to clean you up, wiping away all his traces and pulling the covers over your slumbering body. he stares at you for a moment, his facial expressions softening, before he slowly draws closer and gives you a gentle yet firm kiss on your forehead, making you hum softly in your deep sleep.

one day, theo thinks to himself. one day you will realise that you are all his.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[cupcakegirl3]

bring back brothers bsf theo!! i randomly thought of him always being at your house, like one day you think no one’s home so you walk out of your room in the shortest pyjama shorts and the tiniest top to get something out of your kitchen and he’s there. already taunting you for how slutty you look the second you step foot into the kitchen. this man might aswell move in with you.

“what the fuck are you wearing?” theo’s mocking voice instantly makes you jump, not expecting anyone else to be home as you walk into the dimly lit kitchen. you’re only wearing tiny pyjama shorts, your ass practically hanging out, and the tightest white tank top you own, your nipples visibly showing through.

“can you please shut up? i’m trying to relax at my house.” you hiss at him, rolling your eyes as you grab some snacks from the top shelf, making you stand on your tippy toes. your shorts and top ride up, catching theo’s attention. his head tilts, eyes landing on your exposed body as he bites his lip, a hint of something mischievous in his gaze.

“so, do you only own clothes two sizes too small? you look like a fuckin’ slut walking around like this, tsk.” he shakes his head in faux disapproval, but as he tries to insult you, his pants grow gradually tighter, forcing him to subtly cover his crotch with his hands. behind all the bullying, there is a deep, depraved desire for you— to feel you, to touch you, to fuck you until your pretty body is covered in bruises and cum.

“do you actually go home once in a while, or do you just live here now?!” you impatiently snap at him, fed up with his constant insults and taunts, the blood boiling in your veins. your fists tighten into balls, your eyes narrowing at him for a few seconds before you turn on your heel, hand tightly gripping the snacks to go back to your room, your heavy footsteps thudding through the kitchen.

“and why would i go home when i’ve got my best friend’s little sister here showing off her half-naked body to me every chance she gets? nah, i’m good.”

ੈ♡˳

[cupcakegirl3]

ahhhhhhhhhhhh

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

mattheo riddle x fem reader

SUMMARY. in wich your boyfriend thinks the best way to spice up the relationship is by playing hide and seek. WORDS. 4.7K+. english is not my first language. N/A. literally have no fucking idea, i was having a mental breakdown and this came out.

WARNINGS. smut, mdni, knife play, kinda mean!mattheo, porn w//plot, aged up characters, rough sex, established relationship, unprotected pnv, hard chocking, swearing, ass slapping, licking, making out, blood kink.

masterlist -> navigation -> mattheo masterlist

Being satisfied.

Mattheo was sure that he was not asking for too much. Or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself over and over again for the last few weeks, but lately, satisfaction seemed out of reach—almost like an impossibility—and no matter how hard he tried, a fucked up emptiness was still there, tattooed on his very being as the control flipped down his fingers.

It was maddening. Absolutely maddening. He was certain he was losing control of his own body, of his mind, and just that thought alone made him feel nauseous; he felt like someone was twisting his stomach, slowly and painfully; and that wasn’t him. Being fucking miserable like this? That had never been him.

He was Mattheo Riddle, for fuck’s sake.

He never lost control; he thrived on it—he was the fucking embodiment of control. He controlled himself, his actions, and, most importantly, everything around him: Quidditch strategies, his routines, his grades, but above all, his relationships and everyone around him. But lately, everything felt off...vague, as if everything he had carefully built was slipping away, leaving him exposed and raw.

He felt like a wreck, in every sense of the word.

And the worst part? It wasn’t just affecting him anymore; the worst part was that it had started to affect his relationship with you. You, the only person he genuinely gave a shit about, the only person who mattered to him, the only person he couldn’t let slip away. That was the fucking problem.

In the beginning, everything was perfect, so goddamn perfect that sometimes he was fucking terrified to wake up and find out it had all been a dream, a goddamn illusion that his own mind created to punish him. The truth was that being with you was like a goddamn drug—in the best, most fucked-up way. It was addictive, intoxicating, and never lost its thrill. 

The way your bodies fit together, how you let yourself get lost in the things he did to you, how he knew your body by the tip of his tongue—it was all fucking exciting. And you? You never dared to say no to anything he asked, no matter how sick it sounded; that was what made him want to keep you locked up, all to himself.

And for a while it was all he needed.

But Mattheo wasn’t the type of man who loved gently or held himself back when it came to relationships. He never knew how to give just a piece of himself, and in return, he took everything from you, consuming you in ways that were almost humanly impossible. He always wanted to possess, to have power, and with you, it was no exception. 

No matter how much he tried to suppress it, the need to control you, to use you, was becoming unbearable, and Mattheo was sure that it was turning into physical pain; he could feel it in his ribs.

And besides all that bullshit, lately, the little control he had over you felt more fragile than ever, as if something had shifted in a weird way, something he couldn’t quite pinpoint, but it was fucking there, eating him alive, almost destroying his mind and opening his ribs; there was a part of you he could no longer reach, no matter how hard he tried, and it was driving him insane—he was furious with himself, and a twisted part of him was even furious with you.

He knew it didn’t make any sense, at least not to him. After all, he still fucked you in every way he could—rough, slow, and sometimes, when he was feeling nice enough, even with a strange kind of tenderness, Mattheo fucked you until you were both so drenched in sweat that your bodies stuck together like glue. But even that wasn’t enough.

He was not satisfied. 

It wasn't that being with you was horrible... fuck no! He would never say that, because he knew that if he did, it would only be a lie to hide the sexual frustration that was haunting him like a ghost. And if there was one thing he definitely wasn't, it was a liar. Besides, you were the only girl he dared to touch more than once, the only one he didn't toss aside like the others, the only one he fucking surrendered himself to—not just to blow off steam.

He knew he couldn’t be with anyone else but you. But lately, something was missing, something different, something more obscene, something more…him.

Mattheo couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to spice up the things in your relationship; he was done with the same shitty routine over and over again—he needed to push the limits of what he had with you, to push you further, to fuck you even better than he ever did.

He needed to fight for the relationship, fight for you.

It was then that an idea popped into his mind. A game. Something as twisted as it was intimate, something that would push the two of you into new territory that would push him toward the satisfaction he so desperately sought.

Hide and seek.

He knew it was probably a sick idea, a really sick one, but the way the thought consumed him, how it gripped his mind, and how the mere idea of hunting you down in a dark room with nothing but his filthy thoughts and a knife made his cock throb was impossible to ignore, especially after weeks feeling like shit, like a failure as a partner.

The truth was, Mattheo couldn’t stop himself—not when every nerve in his body burned with the desperate need for the satisfaction he craved and not when he finally found a way to solve his problems. He couldn't let you slip away, not when you were the only one who ever mattered to him.

He’d spent way too much time drowning in frustration, feeling his satisfied façade crumble, feeling the control he valued so much slip through his fingers like fucking sand.

But this—this fucked-up, twisted game—was how he’d take it all back. How he’d finally feel in control again, finallyfeel like he had all of you exactly where, to him, you truly belonged. To remind himself that you were still his—to wreck, to ruin, and to use however he wanted.

And that thought alone sent a rush of adrenaline through his veins.

So Mattheo approached you with caution, whispering sweet but fake words to tempt you, tracing his thumb along your thigh, offering you a false sense of security that he was waiting to take away. Looking into your eyes, almost pleading, begging for the uncertainty to finally leave them.

He offered you space to process what he wanted, making you think you had a choice, even though he knew he had already pushed you toward a thing you couldn’t refuse. And when you finally said yes, satisfaction washed over him, and he wasted no time pushing you into the game.

The small room was dim, with the only light coming through the large crystal windows. The setting afternoon sun streamed through the colored glass, casting soft, vibrant hues over the dusty old furniture and the cold stone walls. Strangely, it brought an odd sense of comfort and freedom to a space that otherwise felt heavy and stifling with what was happening inside.

The room was silent except for the faint creak of the floorboards beneath his slow, deliberate steps. Somewhere in the darkened corners, Mattheo moved like a shadow, his fingers wrapped around the cool silver of the knife, the blade glinting faintly in the dim light.

He wasn’t rushing—no, he wanted to savor this, to draw it out for as long as possible, and he knew that even if you couldn’t see him, a part of you could feel him and listen to his footsteps.

You were in the other corner of the room, your back pressed against the edge of an old desk, the cool wood biting your skin through the fabric of your shirt, your breath was shallow as you tried to stay as quiet as possible, determined not to catch Mattheo’s attention. The dim light filtering through the colored glass windows barely reached you; keeping you concealed in the shadows was the only advantage in this twisted game.

Every inch of your body felt wired, tense, your pulse quickening with each passing second, yet you could feel your pussy starting to get wet with anticipation of being haunted.

“Sweetheart.” He called in a purr, his voice smooth, slicing through the silence. It was the first word he’d spoken since he’d given you time to hide and entered the room, and you couldn’t help but press your hand to your chest, trying to steady your racing heart. “You’re hiding well... it’s almost cute, really.” Mattheo’s words were filled with mockery as he moved his head around, his eyes scanning the shadows of the room, searching for any sign of you.

He stopped near a bookshelf, casually flipping the knife between his fingers, the blade gliding effortlessly with every lazy movement. His dark brown eyes scanned the room, and he held his breath, savoring the familiar, sweet, and addictive scent of your perfume that filled his nostrils, quickening his pulse and making his heart skip a beat with anticipation. Yet, the scent was still too faint, and he knew you were still far from him.

And that made him even more eager to play, to catch you and use you as he wanted.

He tilted his head slightly, straining to catch any sound, but the room remained silent, save for the faint rustle of old books settling on the shelves and the distant hum of the castle beyond. Mattheo chuckled to himself. You were good—too fucking good for your own good. He couldn’t hear a thing. No sharp inhale, no shift of weight against the wooden floor, nothing to give you away. And he couldn’t help but feel a strange sensation of pride.

A slow, cruel smirk curled at the corners of his lips as he tapped the flat side of the knife against his palm, the sound barely breaking the silence of the stone walls. You were making this interesting—dragging it out, pushing him to the edge, making him hard, testing his patience. But patience? That was never his strong suit, and it never would be.

Mattheo’s footsteps echoed faintly as he began to move again, the knife still shifting between his fingers with that unnerving ease. His eyes scanned the room attentively, every inch of it, studying the shadows, waiting for the slightest slip—a twitch, a breath, the faintest shift in the air that would give you away.

But nothing did.

You held your breath even longer, your hand pressing against your chest as your fingers dug into the fabric of your shirt in a futile attempt to steady yourself against the nervousness that made your heart pound violently against your ribs—and the need now pulsing deep in your now wet cunt.

“Are you trembling right now, aren’t you?” His voice was a quiet hiss, the words almost dripping with a twisted amusement that sent another shiver down your spine. You could hear the satisfaction in his tone, his words dripping with that familiar sense of control. “Holding your breath? Hoping I’ll just walk right past you?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the voice in your head cursed as you felt his footsteps drawing closer, desperately trying to control the frantic pulse of your throbbing cunt.

Despite Mattheo’s footsteps, the room felt too still, too quiet—like you were holding onto every second, every inch of space between you and him. But he still could smell you, your scent growing stronger with every passing moment, enough to make his pants tighten around his cock, and then he finally could hear the faintest breath that made his blood burn with desire through his veins, and he wanted nothing more than to push you, to see you crack, to take this game further until you bleed.

His hand clenched tighter around the knife, the grip intensifying as he took another step, shaking his head violently to refocus on the task… breaking you? Well, that could come later.

He was going to make sure of it.

Your breathing quickened with the adrenaline, your heart pounding violently against your ribs as his footsteps grew louder, the vicious scent of his cologne intensifying with his proximity. You gripped the fabric of your skirt between your trembling fingers in a futile attempt to calm your nerves and to stop the excitement that was now dripping between your legs, hardening your nipples.

“Come on, sweetheart, I know you’re close; I can feel it.” Mattheo’s voice came out sweet, and you knew that was the exact opposite of the intentions that had him searching for you so eagerly. “You’re really making me work for it, huh?” He asked, gently squeezing the knife in his palm, the weak lights of the room casting the shadow of the metal on the wall in front of you. “Cute.”

You cringed at the falsely sweet tone his voice carried as you tried to hold your breath even tighter, bringing your trembling knees to your chest in a nearly stupid effort to stop your pussy from growing even wetter at the sound of his manipulative words.

Mattheo stopped suddenly, his brown eyes flicking across the big dark room, narrowing slightly as they scanning every corner for any sign of you. His fingers toyed with the knife, the blade catching the light as he stood still, trying to hear even the smallest sound.

He could feel the impatience growing, clawing at him, but it didn’t dull the ache in his cock—in fact, it only made him harder. The thrill of catching you, of fucking you into the oblivion, made the excitement burn even more.

“Don’t make me wait any longer, love,” he said again, his voice rougher than before, almost like a threat. “The longer you make me wait, the worse it’s going to be for you.” He chuckled low, sending a shiver down your spine, and your heart raced even faster than it already was.

You glanced up at the ceiling, noticing how his shadow was growing bigger and bigger by the second. He was getting closer to your hiding spot, making you instinctively rub your legs together in a desperate attempt to ease the heat growing between them.

Mattheo cursed under his breath, his impatience growing as he scanned the room once more, searching for any shadow that might betray your position.

When no sign appeared, he sighed again, this time with a touch of irritation; the silence was starting to get to him, but it didn’t last long, because a wicked idea flashed in his mind, and a cruel smirk curled on his lips, and in an instant, he slammed his foot against the wooden floor with all his strength.

The loud sound of his foot hitting the floor echoed through the empty room, so sharp against the silence that without thinking, without noticing, you jumped back, slamming into the table behind you. The movement was small but enough to knock over a stack of books, which crashed to the floor, the noise even louder than his footsteps.

You couldn’t help but curse yourself under your breath, realizing the mistake you’d made, your heart nearly leaping out of your throat.

Mattheo stopped instantly, a low chuckle slipping from his lips as he tightened his grip on the knife in his hand. His eyes locked onto the spot where the books had fallen, and a slow, malicious smirk spread across his face. He tilted his head mockingly, his gaze glinting with amusement when he caught a small glimpse of your head peeking out from behind the desk where you were hiding from him.

Without giving you a chance to run, he moved toward you swiftly, his heavy footsteps echoing off the walls, blending with your shallow, frantic breathing, and before you could even blink, Mattheo was right there, standing over you like you were nothing but his goddamn prey.

“Finally found you, sweetheart,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery, the way he said “sweetheart” making it clear he was loving every second of your discomfort. His eyes never left yours, and he could feel his pants tightening around his hard cock as the panic in your eyes grew.

Oh, there it was—the excitement he had been craving for so long.

You swallowed hard, your hand gripping the edge of the table you were leaning on for support, trying to ignore the dampness already soaking through your panties and the way his eyes were still locked onto your body, his fingers casually playing with the small knife in his hand as you stood in front of him.

“Yeah, i guess you found me” you said, your voice shaky as you tried to steady your shaky legs. “Satisfied now?” You forced yourself to meet his gaze, though all it did was make his twisted smirk grow even wider.

Mattheo took a final step, standing right in front of you. His free hand landed on your hip, his grip so tight it would surely leave a bruise. The coldness of his palm against your warm skin made you shiver involuntarily, and he couldn’t help but let out a low, knowing laugh at the way your body reacted to him, your pussy tightening at the rough, throaty noise.

It was always like this, always—you trying to hold your ground while your trembling legs threatened to give out, even if you tried to resist the urge to drop to your knees right in front of him, you trying to challenge him, when in reality, all you wanted was to have your wet pussy filled with his big cock and feel him pump you full of his cum.

The same thing happened each and every time, regardless of how you two fucked, and he felt dumb for ever thinking that this time would be different.

Still, he wasn't complaining, since it made the game much more entertaining.

“No, not yet,” he whispered, leaning forward, your faces so close that his warm breath brushed against your skin. His free hand massaged your hip gently, his thumb stroking your skin in a way that was both mocking and soft, and you pressed your thighs together, trying to control the throbbing between your legs.

Mattheo’s hand left your hip, his fingers tangling in your hair with a strength that had you gasping in surprise as he yanked your face closer to his.

His breath mingled with yours—hot—and you could feel the press of his hard cock against you; still, he kept his lips just out of reach, teasing you. “Be a good girl,” he whispered, the words almost a command. “Show me your tongue, love.”

“And why?” you asked, your voice trembling as you tried to keep your composure, but it was impossible. The air between you thickened as he pushed his hips forward, his clothed cock pressing against the top of your panties, making you whimper.

“Show. Me. Your. Fucking. Tongue.” He repeated like a command, his fingers tightening in your hair as he pulled you even closer. The grip on your scalp made a sudden soft escape your lips—somewhere between a moan and a whimper. “Now.” He ordered, and you quickly opened your mouth, your wet muscle sliding out to meet him, and you felt his cock throbbing harder against you.

“Such a good girl for me,” he praised you almost softly, and before you could react, he stuck his own tongue out of his mouth and gave yours a slow, tentative lick, making you shiver and whine with the contact, and then before you could even open your eyes again, he crashed his lips against yours in a heated kiss, full of teeth and tongue.

You moan into the kiss, feeling your tongues roughly clash against each other, teeth hitting with an brutal force as you taste each other’s lips, almost as if you were claiming again a territory that had belonged to both of you for a long time.

Your lips moved against each other in a frantic and aggressive rhythm, your tongues so intertwined that neither of you could tell where one ended and the other began. Mattheo let out a low groan, his cock growing even harder as the kiss deepened, and his grip on your hair loosened just enough for his hand to slide under your skirt.

He grabbed the flesh of your ass tightly, squeezing it tightly with a strength that would surely leave a mark before yanking you forward, grinding your hips against his, forcing you to feel the full weight of his hard cock pressing against you.

“Such a good fucking ass,” Mattheo growled against your mouth, fingers digging harshly into your ass as he thrust his hips into you, the rough friction making you whimper against his lips, your cunt dripping from the pressure alone.

He could already feel his damn frustration fading away, little by little.

His hand tightened on your ass, pulling you closer, making you gasp at the sudden pressure. Before you could react with another whine, you felt his teeth bite your bottom lip, breaking the skin enough to make the taste of your blood linger in both of your tongues. He grunted in satisfaction, savoring the familiar taste, and you felt how hard he was pressing his cock against your clothed pussy.

Without warning, he slapped your ass sharply, the impact leaving you surprised, a mark of his fingers on your sensitive skin. Almost immediately, he gave another slap, this one softer but still enough for the sting to make you shudder, biting down on your already bloodied lip.

Mattheo moved away from your body a little bit, a wicked smile twisting his lips as he kept just enough distance to leave you yearning for more, wanting him to finally fuck you the way he intended there and then. His pupils were dilated as he looked at you, and you met his gaze, agitated and breathless.

"Mattheo, please!" you pleaded, trying to ignore the pain on your lip, your brow wrinkled slightly due to the lack of friction you were experiencing. Yet, he only laughed, mocking you, finding it amusing that you were nearly as frustrated as he had been previously.

“Oww, are you anxious, sweetheart?” He blinked, pretending innocence, the hand that had been gripping your skin now tucking a stray lock of your messy hair behind your ear in a mockingly sweet gesture. “Poor, poor girl…” he taunted you, his eyes drifting to the small blade in his free hand, anxiously waiting to mark your skin.

He already had the prey; he only needed to cut it.

Mattheo pressed the flat edge of the knife against his palm, his grip tightening as he slowly dragged it down your skin. A shiver raced through you, and you held your breath as the cold, sharp blade grazed your sensitive flesh.

“What you’re trying to do?” you asked, your voice shaky as you watched the knife press harder against your skin.

But he didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed you by the waist and slammed your back against his chest, your feet stumbling to catch up as he dragged you with him. His arm locked around your stomach, keeping you pressed to him, making your head spin, and a soft gasp escaped your bruised lips when you felt his hard cock pressed against your ass.

Mattheo’s grip tightened around your waist, his chest resting against your back as he roughly pushed you into that position, giving him a better view of your ass. Another gasp escaped your lips when you felt his hand slide up to your throat, his fingers tightening around your skin, almost like a reminder of who was in control. Who the fucking prey was.

“Stay fucking still,” he breathed against your ear, his breath hot as he continued to press his clothed hard cock against you, and you obey, trying to ignore the pain of his grip tightening around your neck.

Your pulse hammered under his strong grip, your throat tightening as you swallowed, yet Mattheo only tightened his hold in response, his satisfaction growing with every painful whimper that escaped your lips and every shudder that ran through your already weak legs.

His other hand—the one holding the sharp knife—moved slowly down your stomach, the handle brushing against your skin as he slid the blade lower and lower. Mattheo couldn’t help but smirk even more as he felt your body tremble again and again, his cock pulsing, sensing the way you seemed to shrink back against him.

Mattheo was savoring every second of it, watching you squirm, watching the nerves take over, watching you hold your breath, waiting for the inevitable pain. That was what he wanted, what he needed—to regain control, to own you. You, the one who held his heart in your hands like it was nothing. If he controlled you, you could never hurt him, never break his heart, never crush it with your touch. So, he was just taking the safe option.

Control you before you even realize you were controlling him.

In a swift move, he yanked your skirt and panties down, exposing the soft flesh of your ass even more and your wet folds to the cold air. The sudden vulnerability made your stomach twist in a mix of nervousness and anticipation, but you barely had time to process it before Mattheo thrust one of his knees between your legs, forcing your thighs to open wider, giving him a clear view of your cunt.

“Such a perfect little pussy…” He whispered against your ear, his breath sending goosebumps down your body. “Hands on the table. Now,” he ordered. His hand remained firm on your neck, choking you, his voice dripping with dark mockery, as if he knew exactly what you were feeling. And he did. He knew, and he planned to use it all to his own advantage.

His fingers clenched around your neck more tightly when you hesitated, pressing with such force that you choked slightly—the gesture almost like a silent warning.

"You really think you can disobey me, slut?" He whispered, letting out a dark, dry laugh as he rubbed his covered length on your bare cunt, causing you to whine. “You know better than to piss me the fuck off. Especially when I have a knife in my hand. Don’t fucking test me.”

You followed the command, stifling a moan as his hands tightened around your neck, your shaking hands resting on the wooden surface, your fingers turning white from the pressure.

Mattheo hummed in approval, rocking his hips harder against you, and you instinctively rolled your ass against him, eager for more contact, his grip on your neck loosened just enough for his thumb to caress your jaw—mocking, almost caring.

Then, he finally pressed the cold blade into your ass, and you held your breath, feeling your heart slamming against your ribs.

He muttered, "Stay still," and bit down on your ear. You leaned into him—into the pain—knowing that this would be the closest thing to comfort he’d ever offer you in that moment.

And just when you let yourself relax a little on his grip, the first cut came.

Your eyes snapped shut with the new contact, and you trembled as the pain of your skin being sliced open hit you. Mattheo let out a chuckle, his cock throbbing harder at the sound of your whimpers and the sight of your eager, exposed pussy.

He pressed the blade harder, dragging it slowly and painfully across your skin, cutting through the soft flesh of your ass, still marked by his slaps.

Another shock of pain coursed through your whole body, and you let out a soft whimper, trying to move instinctively. But Mattheo’s grip on your neck only tightened, keeping you locked in place.

He wasn’t going to let you escape, not now that he was so close to getting what he wanted, to the satisfaction he was craving.

“Shhh, it’s just a game. Stay still, or you’ll make it worse.” His fingers tightened around your throat, cutting off your breath enough to make you struggle against his hold. Your head spun, your body fighting for breath, but strangely the adrenaline only turned you on more.

Reluctantly, you gave in, your fingers loosening their grip on the table as you allowed yourself to sink into his hold.

“Just like that, let me take care of you.” His voice dripped with false sweetness, but you let yourself fall for it, ignoring the burning pain in your marked ass as you tried to convince yourself it was worth it.

Mattheo dragged the knife further down, the cold blade scraping roughly over your skin, cutting into you and leaving a trail of blood behind before it finally tore through your flesh. You bit your lip hard, fighting back the scream clawing at your sore throat, your legs instinctively parting, offering him a clearer view of your dripping folds.

This time, it wasn’t just a cut—it was a permanent mark.

“Mine.”

The final stroke completed the “e,” and with each precise cut, you felt the heat of your own blood dripping down the curve of your ass, making your legs tremble more and more. The pain was sharp, but it made your heart race violently against your ribcage in a way you couldn’t explain; and yet his heartbeat mirrored yours, as if, after everything, he had finally regained control over you again.

Mattheo step back slightly, his hand loosening around your neck as he looked at the mess he’d made. He watched as your blood poured down your ass, staining your skin, tracing the deep cuts in thick, red lines. His eyes then moved lower, taking in the sight of your pussy pulsing with need, as if it were calling for him.

Fuck, he wanted to fuck your pussy so bad.

He placed the knife down slowly, his heart pounding in his chest, as he felt his cock straining against the zipper of his pants, watching your chest rise and fall, and your nipples pressed against the fabric of your shirt. His hand slid down to your ass, his fingers tracing the bloodstained marks, feeling the warm liquid collect beneath his nails.

Mattheo licked his lips before bringing his fingers to his mouth eagerly, sucking them clean, licking with the taste, savoring the metallic taste, as if, absorbing it as if by magic, your blood would mix with his.

“Your blood tastes so fucking good,” he muttered, sucking harder on his fingers. You blinked slowly, trying to keep the tears from spilling down your cheeks.

After one last slow lick of his fingers, Mattheo holds you again, a groan escaping his throat as he looks at your dripping cunt, and without wasting another second, he freed his hard cock from his pants, and with a single thrust, he slid himself inside your pussy.

“Ah, fuck!” You cried out in surprise as Mattheo's rigid cock entered you without warning, the force of his penetration making you almost sob. Yet instead of pulling back, he drove himself deeper, relishing the way your tight pussy clamped down on his throbbing cock. A low moan rumbled in his chest as he felt the familiar sensation of your inner walls around him.

“Even after all these months, you're still so fucking tight.” Mattheo groaned against your ear, his hips slamming against yours, the brutal force causing the blood pooling in your ass to trickle down and coat his skin. Each thrust pushing him deeper into your cunt, until the head of his cock was almost kissing your cervix, making your tender folds throb with the strange pleasure.

Fuck, he has been begging for this for months. Months begging for control, for satisfaction, and it was finally there; it was finally in his hands.

His hand tightened around your neck, making it hard to breathe, but he didn’t care. He only drove his cock deeper into you, forcing a loud moan from your lips as the pain from the fresh cuts burned through your skin, leaving you no chance to speak, no chance to even gasp his name.

You were almost certain that if he choked you just a little longer, or five more times, maybe even less, you’d be completely out of air—left to die right there with his cock still buried inside you.

But even though you couldn’t say his name or form a single coherent word, that didn’t stop the loud, desperate moans from spilling out of your bruised lips, your cries turning into broken, incoherent pleas as his grip on your throat tightened, dragging you closer to the edge.

“Yeah, just like that—moan like a fucking slut for me,” he breathed against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. His large palm slid over your stomach, pressing you even harder against his muscular chest, forcing your fresh cuts to rub painfully against his bare pelvis. The sharp sting made you bite your lip to stifle a cry, your fingers tightening around the edge of the table as another type of pain spread through you.

The pain only pushed you closer to your orgasm.

Mattheo’s grip on your neck tightened, making it almost impossible for you to breathe, let alone moan. His hot breath ghosted over your ear as he fucked your pussy with deep, brutal thrusts, each one so relentless that you knew you wouldn’t be able to get out of bed tomorrow. Yet you didn’t say anything letting him chase what he needed.

“Only letting go of your throat when you fucking come like a bitch, sweetheart.” Mattheo moaned in your ear, his hips fucking you faster, burying himself to the hilt as he felt your walls clenching around his dick, signaling your climax. He knew that his own release was close, but he refused to acknowledge it, determined to push you over the edge first like a sick competition he was playing alone.

With three more thrusts, both you and Mattheo felt your pussy clamp down around his rigid length, your whimpering cries echoing through the room as you came, making him grunt in satisfaction. He finally loosened his grip on your throat, allowing you to gasp in relief, but he didn’t stop. He slammed into you one final time before his release hit him like a wave, his cock pulsing violently, spilling his hot cum deep inside your cunt.

After a moment of silence, Mattheo carefully pulled his cock out of your pussy, his breath still ragged as he watched his cum spill out of your hole, then he gently traced his fingers over the “mine” carved into your skin, brushing the marks softly, almost reverently, as if he was looking at a piece of art. The satisfaction he craved now has a permanent mark on you.

“Are you good now?” you asked softly, feeling the exhaustion take over your features as you tried to steady yourself and keep your eyes open despite the pleasant pain.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on your bruised neck before whispering, “You can say that, sweetheart.”

© mattnott 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚎, 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕, 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔.

hate this shit, the smut sucks but the idea is good, bye bye.

thank you to my girl @bucksplum for helping with the last paragraphs, i love you a lot <3

it’s 4 am so if you want to be rude, i will visit you in your nightmares or worse… (tomorrow i might edit better…or not

comments and reblogs are appreciated and help me a lot, so feel free to interact 🫶🏻

[cupcakegirl3]

more wandanat thoughts !!

this may or may not be tmi - idc

i’m ovulating rn and it’s got me thinking nonstop about <inspection kink>

imagine you’re ovulating, your panties all wet even though you haven’t been thinking naughty thoughts. you’re aware of the sticky feeling between your legs all day - a constant reminder that your body was preparing you to be bred.

you knock on the door of one of your girlfriends home office doors - peeking your head in to see how busy the sokovian seemed. wanda peers up from her laptop, noticing your pouty face as you peek in through the crack of the now open door.

“what’s up, love bug?” she asks you sweetly. this was only the first time you’d knocked on her door today, so she was still feeling patient with you. you narrow your eyes, your lip curling into a deeper pout as you push the door wide open and walk over to her desk.

wanda is immediately more attentive, taking metal note of your current nonverbal state. “come here, honey,” she scoots her chair back from under her desk, holding her hands out in invitation for you to sit on her lap. you crawl over her legs, settling on her thighs as you face her, your brows still drawn together as if you were frustrated about something.

“what’s the matter, baby?” she smooths a gentle finger over the space between your eyebrows, trying to smooth out the frown lines. you let out a long exhale, your eyes glancing down to your core. “‘m wet..” you mumble and shift uncomfortably to the side, feeling the stickiness continue to smear across your pussy. you groan, huffing slightly as you were becoming increasingly hyperaware of the discharge collecting on your panties.

wanda furrows her brow, a little confused at your apparent frustration at being “wet.” she starts counting the days back in her head, trying to remember the days date. realization dawns on her face after a few moments, a slight mischievous grin touching her lips. “ahh, i see. is my little girl all wet and sticky for her time of the month?” she grins wider as she notices your displeasure at her own amusement.

“hmm, can mommy check? i want to see how wet you are.” she caresses your cheek with the palm of her hand, fighting the urge to kiss the pout off your lips. you nod your head at her question, already shifting off her lap so you could pull your sweats down. as you stand before her, wanda takes her time untying the string around the waistband of your sweats, pushing them down your hips and legs along with your panties. she taps on your thigh, signaling you to step out of them as the bunched material gathers at your ankles.

as the cool air hits your core, you feel your walls clench around nothing, your arousal catching up to you now.

“hand mommy your panties,” she commands in a soft voice. you bend down to retrieve them, your cheeks flushing a shade of pink as you can see the creamy discharge gathered on the material. you hand them to her, making a small attempt to ball them up in order to hide the evidence. wanda takes it from you, holding them so the wet patch of discharge is exposed, sitting in the palm of her hand. “ohh my, look at all of that stickiness, baby. no wonder you were so uncomfortable, hmm?” she coos with faux empathy, only too eager to tease you about this. you flush an even deeper shade of red, your cheeks flaming from the blood pooling in your face. before you can make a whine of protest, she balls up your panties in her fist and stuffs them into her pocket.

“here.. let me check this too.” she guides you closer to her with a firm hand on your hip. she uses her free hand to push your thighs farther apart before drawing one finger up your slit. your knees buckle a bit, the stimulation only continuing to fuel your arousal. you whimper as she gathers as much wetness as she can with her two fingers, sliding them in slight back and forth motions around your hole before pulling her hand back to inspect the ‘damage.’

wanda smiles, biting her lip as she spreads her two fingers apart, the discharge remaining connected by a thin string. you whine, your fingers wrapping around the wrist on her hand that was holding your hip. you felt so embarrassed, standing here half naked as she reverently inspected the wetness on her fingers. her eyes meet yours and wordlessly, she lifts her fingers up to her mouth, sucking the digits clean. as soon as she swallowed, her fingers returned to your cunt, gathering more of the discharge/arousal mixture. “such a mess you made.. so wet and sticky..” she muses, licking her lips as she watches her own fingers easily slide up and down your slit. she makes sure to pass over your clit a few times, watching your hips buck into her hand. she chuckles at your eager body, using her hand to still your hips after a moment.

“i want you to go show tasha how messy you are. go on and knock on her door and show her,” she encourages, turning your body back towards the door to her office to exit. you obey without a word, feeling very obedient and compliant today.

you walk across the hall and enter natasha’s office without even knocking, eager and hoping she would take care of your little problem. natasha’s eyes zip up to yours as you approach her swiftly. she doesn’t miss how you’re only wearing a shirt, your naked cunt on display as you walk until you’re standing right before her.

“and just what can i do for you, little girl?” she grins, eyeing you up and down with a level of appreciation that only made you more aroused. truth be told, natasha knew what you were in here for. knowing her wife and also knowing it was your time to the month (she tracks your cycle with an app on her phone), she half expected something like this.

“mommy wants you to check me,” you offer simply, placing a hand on her shoulder to steady yourself as you spread your legs apart for her.

you had come a long way since being too shy to even think about getting undressed in front of them. now you were completely shameless about your nakedness. it was exactly what wanda and natasha were hoping for. there was no need for you to be ashamed of your body in front of them.

“oh? here let daddy see,” natasha holds onto your hip in a similar manner as her wife had, running a finger through your now dripping slit. she hums in approval, the fingertip of her pointer finger dipping inside your wet hole. “all nice and sticky..” she eases another finger in, now slowly pumping two fingers inside of you.

“you know something, detka? daddy knew you were gonna be so wet today.. i was waiting for you to come into my office.” she speaks to you in a normal tone, as if she wasn’t currently finger fucking you. your grip tightens on her shoulder, pitiful whimpers passing through your lips.

she continues. “daddy’s been packing your favorite strap all day, just waiting to breed you.” you let out a shrill whine at that, rutting your hips into her hand. she chuckles amusedly at your reaction, her thumb now circling your clit. “you want my cock baby? you want daddy to breed you?” you nod your head vigorously, already panting from the effort it was taking for you to fuck yourself onto her fingers.

she removes her fingers from your heat, scooting her chair further back and standing up, already beginning to unbuckle her pants. “turn around,” she juts her chin out, her voice already sounding more gruff. you turn around to bend over her desk and are only a little surprised to see that wanda was standing silently in the doorframe, watching the scene unfold before her.

wanda walks over towards the desk, her eyes so intent on hers, you wouldn’t dare break eye contact. as you’re now bent over the desk, tasha’s hands smoothing down your body, wanda lifts your chin with her fingers, holding your head firmly in place.

“mmm, look at mommy while daddy fucks you.”

[cupcakegirl3]

behind closed doors

BROTHER'S BSF!THEO NOTT x FEM READER (18+)

summary you're his best friend's little sister—off-limits, right?

warnings smut, theo's mean, fluff, angst i guess, idk

a/n guysssssssssss new week new obsession......soz send help

masterlist

being your older brother's best friend, theo was at your house all the time.

that meant he'd see you almost every day. the most gorgeous girl he'd ever seen, floating around. so close yet so far, always out of reach.

he knew he'd never be able to have you, no, your brother would never allow that. so he did the only other thing he could think of—be mean to you.

so he tormented you every day. called you names, even waited on your bed for you to come home so he could insult you about something new. you suspected it was just his way of getting to see you every day.

he acts like you're the biggest pain in the ass, just his best friend's annoying little sister. but the second nobody's looking? his hands are on you.

—

sleeping with him is casual, no strings attached. theo sneaks out of your brother's room at night after he's fast asleep, making sure that he never ever finds out what's going on.

when your brother is finally out of town for the weekend, theo still comes over. the two of you are watching a movie on the tv in your room, lying on your bed. his arm is wrapped around your shoulder, your head leaning against his chest. his other hand traces up and down your inner thigh under the blanket.

it's one of those rare moments in the in-between.

in-between fucking and being at each others' throats.

theo's hand slips lower, toying with the waistband of your pink lace panties. he traces over your wet cunt, chuckling under his breath, "amore mio, you're dripping, just for me, huh?"

"shut u—" you're immediately silenced when theo plunges two long fingers into your pussy.

a smug smile spreads across his face, “you’re squeezing me so tight, you’re gonna break my fingers aren’t ya? if your brother knew how much you think about me, he’d probably hex you himself.”

“t-theo, stop talking about my brother and start moving your damn fingers.” you pants, writhing against the palm of his hand, aching for some friction against your clit.

“as you wish, amore mio.”

—

one night, you’re sneaking back in after a party. your hair is disheveled, makeup smudged, slightly tipsy and boots in your hand as you try to close the front door as quietly as possible.

theo is the last person you expect to see. you curse under your breath. why is he always in your damn house?

the open kitchen layout gives him the perfect view of you sneaking back in at 3am. he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, grey sweatpants hanging low, black tshirt hugging his biceps. he drinks from a glass of water, a dark look on his face.

you roll your eyes as you put your boots down on the floor, preparing yourself for what’s to come.

“a bit late, isn’t it, piccola?”

you roll your eyes and brush past him, opening the fridge to grab some orange juice. gulping down the juice, you reply, "it's really none of your business, nott."

wrong answer.

before you can react, he's in front of you, blocking your path. he's so much taller, broader than you. the amused glint in his eye is gone.

"see, that's where you're wrong," he murmurs, tilting your chin up with two fingers so you meet his gaze, "it is absolutely my business, because we wouldn't want you messing around with young, dumb, horny boys would we?"

his forearms rest on either side of your head, pinning you against the refrigerator.

"oh yeah? and what are you?" you scoff.

"oh, bella, you already know the answer to that."

and you do. he's stronger, older, perhaps even more mature (when it comes to anything other than you) than whatever company you're keeping.

"i swear, you'd better not tell my brother about this." you groan, ducking under his arms as you beeline for the sink.

"there's no such thing as a free lunch, piccola."

and that's how you end up on your knees in your bedroom, short skirt hiked up as you gag around his fucking massive cock. his hands are tangled in your hair, mercilessly forcing you to take in every inch of him. tears stream down your face, spit pooling at the corner of your mouth. you look like a mess, but at that moment as theo looks down at you through half-lidded eyes, he swears he's never seen a prettier girl than you.

you look up at theo and take in the sight before you. his head is thrown back, hair messy. his jaw is clenched, and he smirks at you. you run your hands over his chest and toned abs, clawing at his biceps.

he's perfect.

—

oh, and when he catches you at a party?

it's over.

he drags you out by your wrists, forcing you into his blacked-out mercedes. he's driving well over the speed limit, desperate to get off the road before he loses his shit.

he'd seen you dancing with some guy you knew from down the street, dress too short, too tight, too low-cut.

he has one hand on the steering wheel, another running through his hair as his jaw clenches.

"didn't take you for the easy type, but i guess i shouldn't be surprised. you're not special, you know. boys will say anything to get them what they want."

his words hit like a slap. your stomach twists, and for a second, all you can do is stare at him, lips parted and heart pounding.

you want to ask what the hell he's talking about, but you already know.

he saw you dancing with that guy. saw the way his hands slid down your waist, how he leaned in close and whispered things in your ear. how you let out that sweet laugh, one that always made theo want to say "fuck it" and just kiss you in front of everyone. he saw the way you let it happen.

and he hated it.

and now he's punishing you for it.

when you remain silent, he continues, "you looked fucking ridiculous in there, you know that?"

and you feel so silly. to think that that evening, you'd picked out your favourite dress, made sure your makeup looked good, just in hopes that theo would notice you at that party.

"you're being cruel, theo. stop it." you murmur, turning to stare out of the window. you don't even notice that you've started crying.

when you finally notice, you wipe it away quickly. you hope that theo didn't notice, but of course he did. at that moment, he pulls into the driveway of your house, turning off the engine.

theodore nott has seen a lot of things—but he has never seen you cry like this. and definitely not because of him.

and it makes something in his chest clench.

"oh, for fuck’s sake—" his voice drops, no longer sharp but still frustrated. he drags a hand through his hair, exhaling harshly, like he’s angry at himself now, too.

for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. he just stares at you, at the way you’re biting your lip, blinking rapidly, trying so hard to hold it in.

then? he moves.

his hand reaches for your thigh, fingers curling around it, grounding. not forceful, but firm.

"hey." his voice is softer now, rough but not cruel.

"don't do that. don't fucking cry over me."

you try to shift away, but theo's grip tightens. not rough—just enough to make you stay.

"i didn't mean—fuck." he sighs again, shaking his head.

his thumb brushes against your knee, almost like a reflex, and for the first time ever, he looks uncertain.

"look at me."

you don't. you can't.

so he makes you.

his fingers curl beneath your chin, tilting your face towards him.

he isn't angry anymore. not at you. not really. his jaw is still clenched, his brows furrowed, but now? he looks almost desperate. like he wants to fix everything he's done, but he doesn't know how.

"i didn't mean it like that, bella."

you sniff, voice shaking slightly, "then how did you mean it?"

and that's when he just sighs. a weak, defeated sigh escapes the big bully of a man.

"i just—fuck, i don’t want to see you with other guys, alright?"

"why? we're not anything. you've made it clear, multiple times."

silence follows. his grip tightens.

then, he finally speaks. rough, low, honest.

"because i want you to be mine."

for a moment, you just stare at him.

his confession hangs in the air between the two of you. you're still hurt, still pissed. but something inside you shifts.

"say it again." your voice is quieter now, still laced with frustration but weaker.

theo's jaw clenches. he’s not used to being this vulnerable. but he doesn’t look away.

"I want you to be mine."

and then he moves. his hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair. he hesitates for just a second, like he’s giving you a chance to stop him.

but you don't.

so he kisses you.

it's not soft. not at first. it’s heated, desperate, full of all the tension that had been boiling between you. his grip is firm, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. but you don’t—you kiss him back just as fiercely, hands tugging at his shirt, anchoring yourself to him.

it’s messy and overwhelming and everything you’ve both been pretending not to want.

when he finally pulls back, both of you are breathless.

"we’re so fucked," you whisper.

theo smirks, brushing his thumb across your swollen lips. “yeah. but you like it.”

and the worst part?

you do.

[cupcakegirl3]

BF!RAFE CAMERON TAKING YOUR VIRGINITY

mature content ; mdni ┆smut

oh, rafe knew you’d be tight—he’d fantasised about it, spent too many nights stroking himself to the thought of stretching you open, making you take him inch by inch—but fuck, this is something else entirely. you’re trembling beneath him, soft little gasps catching in your throat as he works himself inside, inch by agonizing inch. and he’s watching you, drinking in every shiver, every sharp inhale, every flutter of your lashes as you try to take all of him.

“fuck, baby,” he groans. fingers dig into your hips, steadying you, holding you in place as if he’s afraid you’ll try to pull away. but you don’t. no, you whimper and squirming just a little, and the way your walls clench down on him makes his mind go blank. he wants to be gentle. he really does. but you’re so warm, so tight, so fucking perfect wrapped around him that it takes everything in him not to just stab himself into you and fuck you properly.

“too much?” his voice is strained, a thread away from snapping. you shake your head, eyes glazed, lips parted, and he swears he almost busts right there.

she’s mine.

the thought sears through him like a brand, like he’s carving himself into you with every slow, deep thrust. and that’s exactly what he wants—to ruin you, to make sure you never forget this, never forget him. he wants you to feel him tomorrow, to carry the imprint of his touch in every step and ache, in lingering warmth between your thighs.

“good girl,” he rasps, dragging his lips down your throat, tasting the heat of your skin, the sweat beading there. his hand slides down, fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves between your thighs, and you cry out, body arching into him. oh, he loves that sound. loves how your hands scrabble at his back, leaving scratches he’ll wear with pride.

[cupcakegirl3]

bsf!rafe helps his sweet girl (innocent!reader)

tw: watching porn, corruption kink, female masturbation

You knew what it was, of course you did. But watching it… It just seemed so gross.

“How else will you learn?” Rafe said, pushing the hair out of my face. “Come on sweetie just watch some with me, I’ll keep you safe right here.”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“I would never.” He said with a kiss to your cheek.

Rafe pulled it up on his laptop, setting it in his lap. He pulled you into his side, draping one of your legs over his middle. Your shorts rode up a bit but Rafe had said that all girls wore these types of shorts. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him.

You could feel the wetness down there already and it was embarrassing. Rafe had so much experience already and you hadn’t even kissed anyone.

The video started out tame. Just a video of a very beautiful woman making out with a man. Her shorts were just as short as yours and her tank top… Rafe had just bought you a tank top that looked just like that. He had even encouraged you to wear it today.

Heat pooled in your stomach as they began touching each other. The man grabbed the woman’s… intimate parts through her shorts. Her hips started moving and she was gasping into his mouth.

When the intercourse started, you couldn’t help but grind your hips against Rafe’s huge thigh. He didn’t seem to notice your slight movements but as the video went on they got more and more desperate.

The layers in between your pussy and his thigh began to be too much and you let out a small—but noticeable— whine.

Rafes hand began stroking your back, fingers dipping under the fabric of your white shirt. “Video making you feel some way?”

“I don’t know Rafey… I just feel so hot.”

“Why don’t you touch yourself sweetie?”

“Touch…touch myself?”

“Yeah, it’ll make you feel better.”

“I don’t know how.”

He laughed sitting up and pulling you with him. “I gotta teach you everything don’t I?” You bit your lip and pulled your gaze away from him. The moans from the video still filled the room and the heat growing was still present. His rough fingers grabbed your chin, pulling you to look back up at him.

“I’ll teach ya, baby? Would you like that?”

“But Rafey… you’ll—see me?”

“Hey, it’s just a friend helping a friend right?”

“I um guess so.”

“Quit worryin’ so damn much.” He sat up more, moving the laptop to the center of the bed. He clicked on a new video, this time it started out with both of them naked. The girl was on her knees in front of the man and he…

“Rafey? Do guys really slap girls during sex?”

He smirked, “Only the ones they like. Now are you gonna listen to me?”

You bit your lip and nodded. “Alright honey, lay back on my pillows.”

You did as he said but your eyes flickered to the video. The man’s fingers were now sliding in and out of the woman’s mouth. Drool was spilling out the side of her mouth.

Before you could think, your own fingers slid up your mouth. You collected your cherry chapstick you wore before pushing two of your digits into your mouth.

Rafe let out a noise that you couldn’t quite place and your eyes went back to him. He shook his head and leaned towards you.

You let out a shaky breath as your body’s pressed together but… Rafe was merely getting his cigarettes from the side table.

Your fingers slowly worked their way in and out of your mouth and fuck…it felt so good. Your brain was starting to go fuzzy as Rafe lit the cigarette.

“To really touch yourself, you gotta be naked.”

Your heart started beating uncomfortably fast in your throat as you took your fingers out. “O-Ok Rafe.”

Your hands shook as you slipped your top and shorts off, leaving you in your panties and lacy bralette. The couple in the video had now begun to make love…but harder than you thought possible. The man was slamming into the woman and she was screaming with pleasure.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

“Okay Rafe.”

You couldn’t ignore the feeling pooling in you as you took off my bra and panties. Rafe kept smoking but his eyes were on you . He adjusted himself, sitting on his knees in front of your open legs.

This is what friends did right? You had never had friends like this, or a guy friend. Rafe always helped you though ever since you moved to your new school. He was your best friend.

“Now sweetie, you have to listen to everything I am gonna say. You know I hate repeating myself.” You nodded at him, wanting nothing more than to bring your fingers back to your lips.

“Take those two fingers that were into your mouth onto your pussy, spread it open for me.”

You moaned at the slight touch to your weeping pussy. You did as he said, pulling apart your fingers to present your pussy to him.

“Start rubbing yourself now.”

Small gasps and whiny moans left your lips as you lightly rubbed yourself. You pressed down further, feeling a small bud that felt so fucking good to touch. “Rafey.” You moaned out your other hand reaching out to touch him but he was too far away.

“Keep going.”

His face was hard but his eyes never left you. You kept rubbing and rubbing that spot until you felt close to breaking. “Rafe, Rafe. Rafey.” You chanted. “It feels–” Tears began spilling out of your eyes as you chased the feeling.

“Keep chasing it sweetie, you’re gonna cum.”

Your orgasm hit you like a train. You could barely register Rafes hands keeping your thighs apart as your eyes screwed shut. Your legs shook as you came down but Rafes strong grip held them.

When you finally opened your eyes, Rafes were glued to your pussy. You tried to shut your legs but he wouldn't let you.

“Tell me how it felt.”

“Rafe?”

“Tell me.”

Your throat was dry from your moans but you swallowed and tried to speak. “It felt um.. Really good Rafey.”

“Yeah?” His hands began tracing circles on your bare thighs.

“Can I um… put my clothes back on?”

“Aren't you more comfy like this honey? Don’t want you to be uncomfortable now.” Rafe leaned forward, wiping the tears from your face. “Always such a little crybaby aren't ya? Always fucking crying even when it feels good huh? And who’s always there to wipe your tears?”

“You Rafey?”

“Give me a little kiss then.”

You lightly pecked his coarse lips. He had always wanted little kisses like that. He said all friends did it.

“We’ll have to do that again now won’t we?”

thx for reading <33

[cupcakegirl3]

I will die on the hill of George Weasley loving a partner with a bit of a temper

Like yes he will 100% protect you with his life but also if you can fight?? he will step aside and cheer you on and heckle the poor fool youre beating the ass of

Youre yelling up at some asshole upperclassman who had the audacity to tell you to watch where youre going in the hallway?? standing behind you as backup but mentally kicking his lil feet

You come to him fuming with clenched fists and asking for help on a revenge prank?? hes falling 10x more in love IMMEDIATELY

and he knows he can take care of himself just fine! him and Fred are perfectly capable at defending themselves! but if you stand up for him or his family in any capacity?? if you punch some blood-purist in the nose after they tried shit talking his "blood traitor" family in front of you?? you might as well just get married right then and there

[cupcakegirl3]

bucky barnes who doesn’t trust unless it comes to you. whose eyes soften at the sight of you, because his heart knows that it’s okay to let his guard down. he believed the world always had its claws out to get him, until he fell straight into your gentle arms. he tells you the word love meant nothing to him until you came along.

bucky barnes who would live for you. the winter soldier would kill for anyone, the white wolf would die for anyone, but bucky would live for you. he’s never believed in fate, but if it wasn't destiny that brought you to him, he doesn’t know what it was. he thinks maybe it was all worth it, the trauma and the scars and the pain, if it all lead up to the moment when you told him i love you.

bucky barnes who searches for you even in nightmares, screams your name till his lungs burn with self-hatred. you’re his safe space, his home. he’s drawn back to wakefulness as soon as he feels your touch, the gentleness of your breath on his skin like an aching balm to his wounds. he’ll never stop apologising for the burden that comes with his affection, yet he won’t ever stop loving you.

bucky barnes who thinks of hurting you as no less than a sin. who believes even pulling out a single strand of your hair is a hundred times worse than every murder committed as the winter soldier. because what’s a few dozen people in comparison to his whole universe?

bucky barnes who wakes up a little earlier in the morning; not to see the sun rise, but to watch the soft rays dapple your face. he thinks you look angelic, the golden hue painting you in so much beauty that he feels blessed; wonders if he ought to start praying to gods he never once believed in.

bucky barnes who tells you he loves you more times than he can count. whose voice is hardened from years of tortured, ragged cries; but the word doll tumbles out of his lips like soft petals when he looks at you. he knows seven different tongues, and is fluent in every single one. he claims that none of them have the words to describe how you make him feel.

bucky barnes who kisses like a hungry dog, like there’s an ache in his soul that can only be filled by the feeling of your lips on his, skin to skin. he believes the sole purpose of his metal arm is to pin you to the wall. roughness is the only form of love he’s ever known.

bucky barnes who buys you everything you talk about in passing, who takes you out wherever your heart yearns to go, who kisses your knuckles with the softest touch of his lips. he inhales when you exhale at night to make space for the rise of your chest. he only ever holds your hand with his non-metal one so as to not hurt you. he traces your features while you sleep. he loves you with the full force of the word, because you’re his girl.

bucky barnes who could never unlove you, would never want to. even if the strings of his soul were tied to another, he would cut them off and run straight to you.