#a fight that stopped them from talking for half a year

[emmafallsinlove]

the fact that christopher called logan, who got kicked out from a lot of private schools, a great guy is just the biggest red flag to me.

[weirfq1]

with all these gaston crackships/rarepairs that are coming out lately it would be so fucking funny if he had a flig with all the main characters (ambar, nina, simon... hell luna too if you want) and they all know it except matteo

[singmyaubade]

Good Luck Babe

poly!marauders x nerd!female!reader

summary: after being a wallflower throughout your first five years at hogwarts, you always thought that you could be invisible. but when you hear the marauders talking cruelly about you and proceeding to ask for your forgiveness after, well good luck babe.

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing, reader wants to kill the marauders , swearing, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), jealousy

a/n: oh hey... this is kinda based on those cliche 2000's movies where the girl is ugly but not really and she has that glow up or whatever. this was written so quick and not proofread, don't kill me. i hope you enjoy and as always, i apologize if you hate this!

STARTING off your sixth year at Hogwarts being an entirely new person wasn't something that you had planned or expected.

On the inside, you felt exactly the same, the same girl who was bold and could ferociously win a fight when it came to her character.

The same girl who was witty and sarcastic, surprising half of the people around you when you made a joke once in a lifetime.

But on the outside, you didn't have an awkward mis-shaped bob and you no longer wore baggy jackets that didn't do a thing for your figure.

And you didn't hide your face anymore, trying your best to be invisible.

It wasn't that you were shy or that you felt like a loser but you thought social hierarchy was bullshit and the only thing you wanted to focus on was your studies.

You may have been a brave Gryffindor on the inside but on the outside, you had to play the part of a shy mouse as corny as that sounds.

Unfortunately for you, invisibility only tends to last for so long until one moment, you are a nobody and then all eyes are upon you.

And maybe, just maybe, if you hadn't heard the Marauders discussing you the previous year, you would have stayed the same.

You had passed by the boys dormitory to give Remus his textbooks back as you always did when you let you borrow when you heard them speaking of the very person behind the door,

"I still have yet to understand why Lily and the rest of them act like she's some charity case," James huffed, "I mean, she's not some sick patient, they only feel the need to pity her because of how she looks."

You always knew that James had a foul mouth but to be speaking about someone like this, it was cruel.

Remus hissed, "That's not nice Prongs,"

"I'm not even saying it to be a dick!" James groaned, "I just mean, I pity her more for the fact that they don't even invite her to anything outside of breakfast and dinner," He explained, causing Remus to go silent.

Sirius chuckled, shaking his head. "That's absolutely horrid."

James reclined on his bed, a smirk playing on his lips. "I’m just saying, if I were Y/N, I’d be mortified."

Your eyes widened as they began to water, they were speaking about you.

Remus leaned against the wall, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Maybe she just doesn’t want to hang out with Lily and the others."

"Moony, seriously," James shot back, sitting up. "Where is Y/N right now, and where are the other girls?" His eyebrow cocked, trying to make his point as Remus silenced.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Why don’t we investigate for ourselves?" He unfolded the Marauder's Map with a flourish. "Alright, we’ve got Lily, Dorcas, Mary, and Marlene all at Hogsmeade, but Y/N is..." His voice trailed off, eyes narrowing.

James leaned closer, annoyance creeping into his tone as he grabbed the map, "She's-" He stopped, the color fading from his face.

"Fucking spit it out!" Remus said next as he snatched the map finally and saw that the map had shown that you were right outside their door.

"Shit!" You heard Remus say as he started making his way to the door.

Hearing his footsteps approaching, you quickly moved away from the door, bolting for your room.

Once you made it back to your dorm, you had sinked the floor. You put your hand on your mouth, muffling yourself as you cried silently.

You honestly hated to even say it but you did consider Lily and the rest of them your friends. You had never really thought about how they didn't invite you to places.

And if you were being truthful, they had never asked you to have breakfast or dinner with them.

You had always just assumed that you could join but they never told you to leave or swooshed you off. Another part of you hated how stupid you were, trying to intrude on their private time.

You didn't want to let it get to you what a bunch of seventeen year old boys were saying but it did sting horribly.

But in a way, it also motivated you to be who you were on the inside. You already had the top marks in your entire year and your plan to work in the Ministry after Hogwarts had already been set.

And now your chance to be something at Hogwarts was right in front of you, an opportunity that you couldn't miss.

You had to do it for yourself.

The Marauders had no idea who you truly were or even cared to know. And although Remus was kind to you, you could always see that he never made any effort to be your friend.

Not that you expected him to but it only taught you that they truly thought you were some hopeless case.

And an assignment to make the Marauders bite their tongues was one that you couldn't bare to fail.

After hearing that, you decided to avoid the Marauders for the next month, especially with summer break approaching. To your surprise, you barely saw them outside of classes, never giving them a chance to reach out—even Remus.

And then that summer, everything changed. You let your hair grow past your shoulders, embracing your natural curls instead of straightening them. You started wearing clothes that were trendy and form-fitting, a huge contrast to your old style.

You discovered a newfound love for self-care, enjoying the process far more than you expected. Each day felt like a transformation, and by the end of summer, your mother couldn’t help but notice. “Finally listening to me about your style, huh?” she teased.

You only laughed as you embraced her,

If only she knew what had caused it in the first place.

As you said goodbye to your family, anticipation mingled with dread. You knew the train ride would be the least of your worries, but the welcome dinner and the ceremony ahead felt like they might just be hell reincarnate.

As you entered Hogwarts, you admired it as much as you did when you were a first year. The castle was something you considered a second home and everything about it was magical, there was no doubting that.

A crowd of students, including yourself, moved toward the Great Hall, and you settled into your usual seat at the Gryffindor table.

You spotted the Marauders and the usual group of girls approaching, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. They took their usual spots in front of you, with the girls on one side and the boys on the other. James sat beside you, and Lily was directly in front of him.

You never quite understood why they arranged themselves like that, but it hardly mattered in the moment.

They were busy in conversation before James had noticed someone next to him, his eyes widening. You couldn't quite read his face but it seemed like a mix of confusion and flustered.

You stared at him back but he still had yet to mutter a word. You cleared your throat, "Uh hello," You practically whispered.

He snapped back into reality, "Oh sorry, hi," He muttered back.

Silence took over you both as James couldn't find the words of what to say to you.

On one hand, he wanted to call you beautiful, to tell you that you were one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. On the other, he just wanted to stare at you for a few more minutes like a creep.

Lily noticed his gaze and leaned in, smirking. "Excuse my friend; we’re still trying to figure out if he has a brain."

"I thought we solved that decades ago," Marlene chimed in, stifling a laugh.

Lily turned to you with a curious smile. "I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. What’s your name?"

Are you actually fucking kidding me?

You scoffed, "I'm Y/N,"

The entire group looked at you in awe, even the ones who weren't chimed in on the conversation.

"Y/N L/N?" Sirius asked, mouth gaping.

"Yep, that one," You snorted.

They all looked like they had seen a ghost, "You look different," Marlene said as Mary shoved her.

"She means in a good way!" Mary added.

"Uh thanks," You said, awkwardly.

They all continued to stare at you like you were an exhibit in a museum, their eyes scanning you up and down.

"Do you all mind not staring at me?" you asked, trying to break the tension. They all looked away, feigning innocence as they muttered apologies.

"How have you been?" Lily asked, clearly trying to ease the awkwardness.

"Fine," you replied, your tone clipped.

You caught the pained expressions on the Marauders' faces, realizing they were the reason for your dismissive attitude.

"That's great," Lily said, forcing a smile.

You felt a wave of frustration at the awkwardness surrouding you and decided it was time to escape. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you announced, heading toward the exit before they could respond.

As you walked away, you could already here the mutters and whispers emerging from the table, the fascinating topic being you.

You paced as you heard footsteps trailing behind you, but you ignored them, letting your gaze wander around the castle.

"Y/N!" someone called out, startling you.

You turned to see Sirius, James, and Remus hurrying after you. You only let out a snort before continuing your same way.

A hand suddenly reached around your forearm as you turned to see Remus. You quickly snatched your hand away, finally stopping to look at the group of boys who you despised.

Crossing your arms, you shot them a hostile look. "What?"

"We just wanna—"

"We're so—"

"Listen, we just—"

They all spoke at once, but you scoffed and turned back toward the bathroom, starting to walk away.

You were hoping that they would realize you wanted nothing to do with them but instead, it only made them want to chase you more.

They quickened their pace, and you spun around sharply. "For fuck's sake, what do you want?" you snapped.

James took a breath, his expression earnest. "I'm sorry for what I said. I've been thinking about it since you left. I was an awful twat, and you didn't deserve a thing of what I said."

You let out a sarcastic laugh, "Are you serious?" You asked as your expression changed to furious, "You basically called me a loser and said that Lily and the rest of them were only hanging out with me out of pity,"

James hissed as your statement, feeling the razor in your voice.

"-And now you all want to act as if I should just forgive you since I don't look the same anymore," You got closer to James's face, "Fuck off."

You turned your heel again and this time, the boys didn't follow you.

You finally entered the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you struggled to read the expression on your face. You were furious at the Marauders, and the idea of forgiving them felt impossible.

Yet, there was a flicker of gratitude that you felt for the change you’d undergone. You’d gained a new confidence that felt good, but the sting of their cruel words still lingered in your mind.

And you knew that you couldn't let it get to you but knowing they thought that of you, even Remus. It still did things to you that you would never admit out loud.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you realized it was almost time to head to the dormitory.

The rest of the night had flown by, with first years being introduced to their new home for the next six years while everyone else relaxed in the common room. Despite curfews, fifth years and above knew they could hang out longer—the curfew was mostly for the first years anyway.

"Caput Draconis," you muttered, and the Fat Lady nodded, granting you entrance.

Stepping into the common room, your heart sank as you spotted the last group you wanted to see. They noticed you just as quickly, encouraging you to pick up your pace toward the dorm.

"Hey, Y/N!" Dorcas called out, making you wince as you turned to see her waving.

The Marauders looked down, shame etched on their faces, avoiding your gaze as if you were Medusa.

You approached them slowly, dread settling in your stomach as they eyed you like a science project.

"We were just about to play a fun little game," Dorcas said enticingly, while Marlene snorted beside her.

"I don’t know if Spin the Bottle is a great idea for the first night back," Marlene added, taking a sip of her beer.

"A little peck never hurt anyone," Lily chimed in, clapping her hands together.

Of all people, you’d never expect Lily Evans to approve such a thing. This was the same girl who nearly fainted when she heard about Marlene and Dorcas kissing the previous year.

"I don’t know if this is the game for me," you replied, eyeing the group warily.

"Of course it is!" Lily insisted, but you raised an eyebrow. "Oh my gosh! Not like that, I just mean it's a fun game for us all to play," she quickly added, looking flustered.

Part of you wanted to say no and retreat to your bed, but that was the old you, and you knew it wouldn’t help. This was a new year, and you were determined to embrace new experiences.

Besides, you’d never participated in any scandalous games for all of the years you've been at Hogwarts—it felt like a crime in itself.

So, after a moment’s hesitation, you said, "Okay, sure." The girls erupted in cheers, while the Marauders exchanged worried glances.

What if you had to kiss one of them? Would you refuse and create a scene? Would you want to strangle them for even suggesting it?

The possibilities raced through their mind, but there was no turning back as everyone began to form a circle.

As you sat in the circle, a shiver of nervousness enveloped you. You had never kissed anyone before and the whole thought made you nervous within itself.

Don't get it wrong, you've had chances but they never seemed right and you certainly weren't kissing Matthew Trunchbull underneath the bleachers of the Quidditch field.

So when you got offered a shot of firewhiskey to cool your nerves by Marlene, you took it happily as it burned down your throat.

You brushed off all the negative thoughts entering your mind,

What really is the worst thing that could happen?

[sarahroutldge]

inked.

a/n: hey y'all! this is my first fic on this account. just a fun little jj one shot - lmk what you think!! (gif not mine - credits to the creator)

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: you and jj have been dating secretly for half a year, and a small question about a mysterious new tattoo leads to his friends finding out about the two of you.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: fluff/humor, marijuana use, implied sexual content, I think that's it

JJ’s not the greatest at dates, and he’s aware of that. But when it comes to you, he’s decided to step up his game, and that’s why he took the initiative to take you to Charleston for your birthday. While he currently can’t afford to spring for an elaborate dinner at a pricey restaurant, he’s trying to make tonight something special. Usually, you’re the one who has to pick up the slack when it comes to romance—though you’re not great at it either—but he figured that since it’s your birthday, all the planning should be his responsibility.

And so far it’s been great.

Walking hand-in-hand down the cobblestone streets of Charleston, you can feel how much freer JJ is when he can take you out somewhere people won’t recognize you. It’s been hard keeping such a big part of his life a secret from his friends for so long, but he doesn’t want to push it too far. You’re what he calls ‘kook-like,’ since you’re from Figure Eight but you went to the local public school instead. And while you never really interacted back in high school, JJ doesn’t want to have to explain to his friends everything about your relationship. It’s private, and though he knows he’ll confide in the Pogues at some point, he’s just not there yet. And thankfully, it doesn’t seem to bother you.

It’s been silent for a while, but not uncomfortable. You just enjoyed a delicious meal that JJ had to fight with you to pay the bill over, and you feel calm. Peaceful. Outside of the Outer Banks, there are no kooks and no pogues, just the two of you. 

Choosing to break the silence, you voice your inner thoughts. “It’s nice to not have to worry about running into people we know, you know?”

JJ nods. “Yeah, it’s nice to know that I can kiss you without being afraid of being punched by Topper,” he teases.

You chuckle at his comment before pulling him to a stop. “You said you’d never bring it up!”

“Hey, he’s your ex-boyfriend,” JJ retorts, pointing at your chest.

“Hardly. We dated for two weeks when I was fourteen. And it’s still my greatest shame.”

“I thought I was your greatest shame.”

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s joking. “Never.” As he leans in to kiss you, you can swear that you’ve never felt lighter. You’re a bit tipsy from the drinks at dinner and JJ has a sparkle in his eyes that’ll never stop making you smile. 

His lips press to yours, and you swear you know what the romantic comedies mean when they talk about fireworks. It’s nothing too heated—you’re standing on a sidewalk and you’re not that crazy—but it’s special and passionate. Your lips are a perfect fit for one another, and if you don’t pull away soon you know you’ll get swept up in it.

Knowing JJ has other plans for the two of you, you break away from the kiss and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Alright, so what’s next on the agenda, Jayj?”

And that’s when you spot it—the signature twinkle in his eye that only shines when he has something a little bit crazy planned.

“Oh no…” you protest in preparation for whatever’s about to come out of his mouth.

“Okay, it’s just a crazy idea I had and it’s totally up to you. We don’t have to do it, but I think it would be fun.”

“What?” you ask. He unwraps your hands from his shoulders before grasping one of them in his own again, and starts to guide you down the street. “JJ, where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see.” He winks, and at that point you decide to just let him lead you wherever. You know he’d never put you in danger, and he’s safely gotten you out of your comfort zone many times before, so you’re sure that it can’t be too bad. Right?

As the two of you walk down the street hand-in-hand, your mind wanders. You’ve accepted your fate, but where could JJ possibly be taking you? And before your mind settles on a single answer, he pulls you to a stop in front of a little brick-walled building. ‘Inks Tattoo Parlor,’ the sign reads.

“Okay, I know it might be a crazy JJ idea,” he starts.

“I’m glad you’re self-aware,” you retort.

He rolls his eyes. “Just hear me out. I know we haven’t been dating for long and maybe I had too many drinks at dinner but I know you’re it for me. We’re young and I know we haven’t talked about marriage and I know we’re nowhere near there yet—”

“JJ, just breathe,” you say to comfort him, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

“Well, basically, I love you. Like a lot. Like more than I ever thought I could, and I think I want a tattoo of your initials on my ass.”

And then you give him the weirdest expression he’s ever seen. He can’t tell if he’s scared you off or turned you on or maybe both. But slowly, a smile makes its way onto your face.

“Okay, well, number one: this is definitely a crazy JJ idea,” you start. “But crazy JJ ideas are part of why I fell in love with you, and it’s your ass—you can do whatever you want with it. Frankly, I’m honored.”

He smashes his lips to yours and you kiss him back, chuckling against his lips. “Oh, babe, by the way, this ass belongs to you, too.” You playfully swat his chest, and his smile only grows.

You don’t know if the drinks from dinner are finally getting to you or you’re just on a high from spending so much quality time with your boyfriend, but as you and JJ wait for him to get tattooed, your mind starts to wonder if maybe you should get one as well. 

After the tattoo artist finishes up with his previous client, you get up from where you were waiting next to JJ and look at the intricate designs on the wall. “Hey, Jayj?”

“What’s up?” he asks, looking up from his phone.

“What do you think of this font?”

JJ squints before deciding he might as well come over to get a better look. Standing behind you, he rests his head on your shoulder and examines what you’ve been pointing to. 

“It’s alright, but not my thing,” he responds, as he wraps his arms around your waist. “Plus I think I’m just gonna stick with something simple. No twirly shit.”

You chuckle at his description of the font. “I didn’t mean for your tattoo, Jayj. I meant for me.” And that catches him off guard. 

Unraveling his arms from around your waist, he moves to stand in front of you. “You’re getting a tattoo?” he questions. 

A bit annoyed at his disbelief, you roll your eyes. “Why is that such a big deal?” 

Racking his head for an answer that won’t make him sound like a dick, the best he comes out with is “well, it’s just not very… you.” 

“Maybe that’s the point.” 

JJ lifts his hands in defeat. “Hey, it’s your body. Your body, your choice, and all that, or whatever.” You chuckle at his wording. “What would you even get?” 

“JJ, duh.”

His eyes widen. “You’re not serious.”

“Why not?”

He stares at you for a minute, looking deep into your eyes, trying to see if you’re joking with him, but he can’t seem to find any nervousness. “Well damn. Where are you gonna get it? And don’t say your ass because that would just be copying me.”

You roll your eyes. “No, I was thinking on my hip, right above my bikini line, you know? And it wouldn't be big or anything, just two J’s. No extra swirls or details or whatever.”

JJ puts his hand to his chin as if he needs to think it over, before stepping as close to you as possible and whispering in your ear, “that’s kinda hot, honestly.” He punctuates his comment with a kiss on the inside of your neck, and before you can do anything more you hear a clearing of breath from the tattoo artist.

“You’re up next.” 

The two of you break apart from one another as if you’re fifteen and you’ve just been caught making out by the lockers during class time. JJ winks at you before laying down on the cot. “Alright, man, tat my ass up.” 

Two weeks later…

“Kie!”

“Wake up!”

“Get up, Kie!”

“You’ve gotta see this!”

“Alright, I’m up!” Kiara relents, rolling her eyes as she wakes up from a heavenly nap in the hammock on the employees-only floor of the tackle and bait shop. “This better be an emergency.”

Sarah, John B., Pope, and Cleo squint a bit at her casual threat. “Okay, so it’s not exactly an emergency,” John B. clarifies. But before Kiara can object again, he explains, “JJ has an ass tat!”

“What?” Kiara asks, still a bit dizzy from her nap.

“JJ has a tattoo on his ass,” Pope clarifies proudly, and Cleo rolls her eyes in response.

“I know what an ass tat is, thank you very much,” Kiara bites back. “And why do we care that JJ has one? And also, how do you know that he has one?”

“Okay, well, you know how sometimes JJ doesn’t wear underwear?” John B. asks.

“Gross, but yes, I think we’re all unfortunately aware after the regrettable cliff diving incident last July.” Everyone shudders in horror at the memory. 

“We care because it’s not something JJ-y,” Sarah explains. “He has a tattoo of someone’s initials!”

“And it’s not like JJ to, you know, ink anything remotely sentimental on himself. To be honest, I was surprised he didn’t get a joint tattooed on his ass first,” Pope elaborates.

“Well, what are the initials?”

“Y/I. And I can’t think of anyone with those initials.” John B. answers.

Now invested in the mystery of JJ’s ass tat, Kiara concentrates, trying to think of who she might know with those initials. Coming up with nothing, she asks, “Are we sure it’s not just something stupid?”

“Come on, Kie. It’s JJ. If there’s anything we’re sure about, it’s that there was a high level of stupidity involved in this decision,” Pope answers.

“Fair point,” Kiara concedes. “How did you even see the tattoo?”

“John B. walked in on him sleeping butt naked,” Sarah confesses. He shoots her a look, and she smirks. “I’m just glad you didn’t find it cuter than mine.” John B. rolls his eyes in response, and Sarah chuckles.

“Never,” he says, before kissing her on the lips.

“Gross!” Pope interjects.

Elsewhere on the island, you and JJ are enjoying a day at your favorite secluded part of the beach. The waves never get especially big here so you’re not crowded by surfers, but it’s a nice area to get away from it all and simply relax with one another. 

You’re lounging on a towel, letting your back tan, as you engross yourself in your current book. Right next to you, JJ sits shirtless on his towel as he does whatever on his phone. It’s been relatively quiet for a while until you sense your boyfriend starting to stir.

You glance over at JJ only to see him typing incessantly on his phone. 

“Babe?” 

“Yo,” he says in acknowledgment, but without looking up from his screen.

You roll your eyes and move over onto his towel, making yourself comfortable behind his bare, sun-tanned back. Looking over his shoulder, you try to make out what he could possibly be doing.

Wrapping your hands around his stomach, you feel his abs tense under your fingers. “What’s going on?”

“I think our cover might be blown,” he answers, placing his hand above his phone so you can see the messages in the blaring sun. 

John B.: Please tell me she’s not a kook.

Sarah: Hey 🙁

Cleo: We want to meet her!

Pope: How did you convince her to go out with you? Is she being held against her will?

Kie: I stfg JJ if you don’t just tell us her name.

Sarah: We’re at the usual surf spot on the beach, bring her over!

Pope: You have to come now because I need proof that a real human woman agreed to go out with you. Also if she doesn’t exist then JB owes me fifty bucks.

“Your friends are funny,” you say into his ear, and he smiles wide.

“So, what do you say? Do you want to meet them? I know we’ve kept this thing a secret but I guess it’s pointless now.” 

“I’d love to meet them,” you respond, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before standing up and packing your book, towel, and your cover-up into your bag. 

Once you’re all packed, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his chest. “Thanks for doing this, babe.” He lightly presses his lips to yours.

“Don’t thank me, I can’t wait to meet your friends and hear all the embarrassing stories you haven’t told me. And of course I’ll have to share some of my own in return.” You return his kiss, and for a few seconds the two of you just stand there, kissing under the hot sun. His tongue makes its way into your mouth, and you tug on his messy blonde strands in response. He moans into the kiss, but before it can get too heated, you pull away. “As much as I love this, if we don’t stop, I don’t think we’ll make it in time to meet your friends.”

“Who cares about them?” he jokes, before pressing his lips to you again. And then, in signature JJ fashion, he grabs your bag in one hand and tosses you over his shoulder.

You shriek in response. “JJ put me down!”

“You’re the one who wanted to hurry. I’m just making sure you don’t get distracted.” As he walks you to his truck, you giggle at being held upside down, swatting his butt playfully. 

Meeting his friends goes great, and you easily fall into a rhythm with Sarah, Kiara, and Cleo. John B.’s extra welcoming since your existence means that Pope now owes him fifty bucks, and by late afternoon you’re all relaxing around a bonfire. Gathered in a circle around the flames, you swap embarrassing JJ stories and enjoy just getting to know the Pogues. You pass around a joint, and a comfortable silence grows among the group, interspersed with a few chill conversations. Lounging in between JJ’s legs, his hands begin to wander before settling comfortably on your hips. 

He plays with the hem of your cover-up, pulling it up and down ever so slightly. Sarah sits next to you, tugged under John B.’s arm. She glances around the group before she notices a bit of ink along your bikini line. “Ooh, that’s such a cute spot for a tattoo, what is it?” she asks.

You feel your face warm and JJ shoves his head into your back, chuckling at the situation.

The rest of the group looks confused at JJ’s reaction, and now everyone’s attention is on the both of you. Realizing there’s no way out of this, you meet JJ’s fingers at your hip and ever-so-slightly move the string on your bikini bottom so that Sarah can make out what it says.

She squints. “Oh my god! You have JJ tattooed on you!” 

Everybody else’s eyes go wide and they all look at you in shock. 

“Really?” Pope asks, questioning your judgment, and Cleo slaps him in response. 

“Leave her alone, it’s cute.” 

You smile at Cleo in thanks, and JJ looks at Pope. “Pope, it’s like the hottest thing ever, I swear. The sex was great already, but now–” 

You cover JJ’s mouth with your hand in embarrassment, as John B. smirks in amusement. It’s silent for a second before JJ decides to lick your hand and you immediately pull away. “Ew!” you shout, and your boyfriend howls in amusement.

Standing up from between JJ’s legs, you wipe your wet hand on your cover-up, before tugging it off. “Anyways, I’m going to go for a final swim before the sun goes down completely. Anyone want to join?” 

“I just want to finish my beer, but I’ll join you in a minute,” Sarah answers, and you smile. Cleo and Kiara nod in agreement, and you make your way into the water. But before you can reach the ocean, JJ runs up to you and lifts you off the ground. You yelp at his antics, and again he lays you over his shoulder. He turns around to wave at the group as they laugh at the two of you.

The rest of the Pogues look on as JJ drops you into the water. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but they might be perfect for each other,” Pope confesses.

Everyone nods in agreement. “They’re adorable,” Sarah adds. “Absolutely adorable.” 

so... please let me know what you think! I don't currently have a taglist, but if you'd like to be tagged in my next jj fic, please send me an ask :)))

[muffinlance]

The feral cat gator of a 13 year old freshly scarred Zuko being forcibly adopted by the foggy swamp tribe! Bonus points if they willfully ignore the fact he's a firebender and treat him as a very strange waterbender bending-wise

It was Earth Kingdom ships that drove the metal one onto the reefs, so when the little thing came crawling up through the marsh spitting and hissing and dressed in red, they knew it weren’t no earthbender. No matter how much mud it had tripped in, trying to find where the ground stopped sucking at its feet.

“Wow-ee,” said Old Earl, “that sure is one way of keepin’ off the ‘squito-chiggers.”

And they all watched from Big Earl’s porch, sitting or rocking, as them bugs came for the all-you-can-eat and ended up on the bar-b-que.

“Sure is some weird bending,” said Little Earl, who was taller than Big Earl, but when they'd been twelve and they’d wrestled for the title it hadn't been Little Earl who’d won.

The little thing looked maybe twelve, too. And he was little little. But he had that same look like he was going to shove someone’s face in the mud until they said otherwise, as he stood there all panting and dripping and just realizing they’d been watching him this whole time.

“It’s firebending,” the one-kid mud-wrestler said, as bugs kept pop-snapping into flames around him.

Old Earl cupped a hand over his ear, like he couldn’t hear. And he kept doing it, while the kid got louder and louder about that bending of his, but quieter and quieter about looking at them like they were his next bugs.

“Oh, firebending,” Old Earl said, nodding like he’d only just got it, when the kid had stomped straight up to his chair. “Right, right, Old Jane’s got fire-water-bending, too. Why don’t you take him to her, boys.”

“It’s not-- ugh,” shouted the kid, but maybe he only had the one volume. Certainly only had the one volume for stomping, even though stomping was what got a fellow’s shoes shoved down so deep in the mud they’d be seeing them again as mole-shrimp hats. Not that the kid had shoes. Neither did Earl, Earl, or Earl. ‘Cept for Fancy Earl, but he’d gone off to Ba-Singing-Se, to be fancy.

Anyway, Old Jane was the best at turning anything and everything into fire water, which was the kind of thing a fellow called his or her liquor when they wanted fancy folk to keep right on walking. Was really good for making shouty little firebrands take their naps, too, which let Old Jane get her glowing mitts all over that fresh burn of his. And the love-bites from the shark-wrasses that had probably been half the reason the kid had come a-shore all a-shouting in the first place.

“Nope,” diagnosed Old Jane, when the kid woke back up. “That’s just how he talks. Mother was a screamer-bird, I’d say.”

“You take that back about my mother,” screamed their screamer-bird, who had pretty good hearing for someone who’s ear had lost the same fight as his eye. Anyway, Old Jane had done the best she could about both, and nothing was on fire that shouldn’t be, and she had that extra quilt she’d been working on that needed a body under it

And the waves and the shark-wrasses had all the rest of the kid’s crew

So sure enough they set their little screamer-bird up with a nest and let him cry loud as he wanted.

Anyway, if there was one thing Earl Earl Earl and Jane knew, it was how to make a joke so good the other person didn’t even know it were a joke.

“Firebending,” their little fledgling shouted, and waved his arms around, like all that fire pointed at no one was going to get them startled off.

“A-yep,” nodded Old Earl. “That there is some fire-water-bending. Just like Old Jane.”

Old Jane wasn’t the kind of gal who showed off, but she wasn’t the kind who missed no cue, either. She swirled a lick o’ liquor out of her latest barrel and twirled it ‘round and straight into her mouth, and when she spit it out, it looked so much like the little bird’s breath-o’-fire that he didn’t even notice the spark rocks she kept on her fingers as jewelry. No one did, ‘til they’d seen the trick a few times.

The kid’s mouth hung open so low and so long, a moth-tick flew in. That was some kind of life lesson, that was. The swamp was good at sending those.

The Earth Kingdom sent troops a-stompin’ through, losing boots and scaring catigators out of their sunning spots left and right, askin’ all rumbly about those fires they’d spotted, and if anyone from that shipwreck had made it on shore, and talkin’ about how there’d be money in it for them if they made that last answer a “yes,” sounding like Fancy Earl and all his talk about commerce and living standards.

“Got a few parts of them ship people in the lagoon,” Big Earl said. “Probably still floatin’ if you want ‘em. But we better bring the shrimp-minnow nets, ‘cuase they’ll just slosh on through the turtle-sturgeon ones.”

“...No thank you,” the head stomper said, like sayin’ polite words made a fellow a polite man. He’d tracked those boots of his right up onto their porch without so much as a scuff on their mud rug. Even the kid had used the mud rug. “And the fire?”

“Oh,” said Little Earl, with a grin, “that was Old Jane.”

And she did her trick again, only less tricky, so they could see the spark rocks real good. “You boys want some fire water?” she offered. “It ain’t blinded no one who wasn’t already headed that way.”

They didn’t want any, which was grand, ‘cause she hadn’t really been offering.

When the last of them had gone stomping off back to the kind of land that let people stomp it, it took them two whole hours to lure out the catigators from under the porch. And their little screamer bird, too.

“...Why didn’t you turn me in?”

“What?” asked Old Earl, cupping his ear.

“Why—”

“What?”

“—didn’t—”

“WHAT?”

“—you—”

“Speak up, boy,” Old Earl said. “I never heard such a quiet child.”

And boy, did that set their bird back to singing.

[spokenforyou]

sylus x fem reader

TAKE CARE

synopsis: sylus comes home after a run in, wounded. and you decide to take care of him, in more ways than one.

warnings: dirty talk, unprotected intercourse, cream pie, vulgar language, mentions of wounds and blood, mentions of bruises, praise kink, spanking, m oral receiving .

wc- 2.4k

[minors don’t interact… by choosing to interact with this content, you are consenting to view something that is not appropriate and nsfw despite warnings!]

9:26 pm

Sylus is late.

You sit on the couch, curled up under a blanket watching a movie. A random romance movie filling the empty house with sound as you wait for Sylus to get back home from work.

You begin to worry, he called you around an hour ago, saying he’d be on his way.

Because of course, he had to hear your sweet voice. But he’s late.

You fight the urge to call him or spam his phone, even though you know he doesn’t care, he prefers it.

You sigh as you repeatedly check the time 9:40 comes around and you decide to send him a text.

You: Baby, are you alright? I didn’t wanna bother you, but I’m getting worried.

You set down your phone and lock it before returning your attention to the movie. As you see the couple on screen all you can think of is Sylus.

Your boyfriend of nearly a year and a half, the man you are in love with wholeheartedly. Reaching down you begin to twiddle with the collarbone necklace he bought you. Your phone dings and you nearly jump in your seat.

It’s Sylus.

Sy: I got caught up kitten. Late approach, I’m in the car right now. I’m sorry, give me 5 minutes or so, see you then.

You sigh of relief but can’t stop to wonder what caught him so late.

Not even three minutes pass and you hear a car door shut, you jump out of your seat this time. Haven’t seen Sylus since 2 pm, you rush to the door and unlock it. You quickly open it and run out of the mansion to him.

Sylus locks eyes with you as he heads towards the house, he braces himself for a jumping hug and chuckles.

You jump into his arms, wrapping your own around his neck as his wraps around your back. The height difference allows your legs to dangle.

He holds you until you decide to let go, knowing you love to be clingy, and he doesn’t mind at all. “Someone missed me?” He mutters against your hair. You drop yourself to the ground and finally get a look at him.

His clothes were bloody and he had a couple of bruises scattered on his face and arms. You feel your heart stop as you look at him.

“Sy, what happened…” You whisper as you reach up and touch his face.

He winces as you near a bruise. “A run in. I’m alright sweetie, come on.” He chuckles, brushing it off and leads you inside, locking the car with a remote as we head in.

He opens the door and closes it behind us as we step into the hallway.

“Sy… Let me look. I can help, you know I enjoy taking care of you.” You look up at him as he takes off his combat boots.

“Baby, I’m okay. But if you want to, I won’t deny you.” Sylus chuckles before taking your hand and leading you further into the mansion.

“Bathroom, the first aid kit is in there.” You squeeze his hand and he nods, leading you there.

Once you’re both in the bathroom, he switches on the light and sits on the closed toilet lid, to allow you to get to him with ease. His crimson eyes look up at you as he finally gets a good look at you.

“Pretty girl.” He says with no shame and you blush as you playfully roll your eyes. You turn and open a cabinet, grabbing the first aid kit.

Moving back over to Sylus, you stand in front of him. “Let’s get your shirt off, the blood is gonna only stain more the longer it sits.” You reach to take off his shirt and he nods but takes it off for you. He tosses the shirt somewhere and lets you continue.

“Sweetie, I’m not worried about the shirt. You and I both know I have enough money to buy a million of them.” He laughs, his deep voice echoing in the bathroom.

“Yeah you’re right, but still.” I chuckle and look down at his broad chest. Dried blood scatters across his skin and it tugs at my heart, I know his wounds heal themselves but it still upsets me.

Sylus watches your eyes waver and he takes your hand. “Sweetie, you know no one can hurt me right? No one can kill me either, only you can grant me death. Don’t worry okay?” He rubs your hand in his, and you nod.

“Sylus, I just… I don’t like to see you like this.” You sigh and you pull away for a quick second to grab a washcloth, wetting it.

“I know you don’t, and it makes me happy that you care so much about me. But they’re healed for the most part, other than the bruises. ” Sylus watches as you bring the wet cloth to his bloody chest, wiping gently.

“Bruises take longer don’t they?” You whisper as you focus and he hums in agreement.

“The one on your face Sy… They punched your pretty face.” I look at him and sigh as my eyes land on the huge bruise on his jaw.

He chuckles at your silent compliment. “You can always make me pretty again until it heals.” His eyes scan over your features, appreciating the beauty of you.

“Would you let me do your makeup?” Smiling at him, I stop wiping his chest as it’s wiped clean.

“Wouldn’t mind, if it made you happy I wouldn’t object it. You know I’d do anything you asked me to.” Sylus smiles and glances as you grab a hot pad from the first aid kit.

“So if I asked you to jump off a cliff, would you do it?” You joke as you press ever so gently to his jawbone bruise and he closes his eyes briefly.

“Mhm. Anything.” Sylus mutters as he takes in the heat. His words make you smile ear to ear, although you’d never ask him to jump off a cliff.

“Baby?” He speaks up all of a sudden and it catches you off guard.

“Yeah, Sy?” You look down at him with curiosity, his arm patting your hip.

“Why don’t you sit on my lap, your legs are gonna start hurting. And this time it won’t be from me.” He chuckles, and you nod realizing that your legs truly do hurt from standing so long.

You sit on Sylus’ lap and he leans back to give you room to continue. His hands coming to rest on your hips.

“Does the bruise feel any better?” You look at Sylus, running a hand through his silver hair. He leans into your touch and nods.

“Got a couple on my arms but you don’t have to worry about those. The only one that hurts is the jaw.” He smiles softly before squeezing your hip.

You nod and giggle, “I know I just sat down, but my work is done.” He gives you a disapproving look and shakes his head.

“No, you aren’t.” Sylus smirks, and you lift a brow.

“What exactly did I miss?” You scan over his face and torso once more, checking for any marks you might’ve missed. You hear his low chuckle and your attention is brought back to his face.

“My lips sweetie.” He whispers before gripping your face in his palm and kissing you. He holds you ever so gently in his grasp and you wrap your arms around his neck like you did earlier.

His lips were tender and soft against yours, tasting mint on him.

Sylus slowly pulls away before giving you a small peck. Whispering he squeezes you again, “All mine…”

“All yours.” You repeat and he smiles, his gaze dropping to your lips once again. He quickly stands, wrapping your legs around his waist he leaves the bathroom with you.

“Sylus!” You giggle. “Where are you taking me?” You continue to laugh as he props you up higher.

He smiles at the tone of your voice. “To bed kitten.” Sylus kicks open the bedroom door and carries you over to the bed before laying you down and climbing on top of you.

“You know… There’s one more bruise.” He smirks as he hovers over you. Your eyes widen but then you catch on.

“Where exactly?” You chuckle and he holds his cocky expression before leaning down and grinding against you.

“Mmm, I think it might be there… Wanna check for me, sweetie?” Sylus’ hardness is evident as he grinds one more time. Honestly, you were shocked he got hard so fast. Yet again you were on his lap, and just looking at you gives him a semi.

“I’ll check…” You nod and he bites his bottom lip between his teeth before moving off of you. You allow him to situate himself to lie down on the bed, his upper body propped up by pillows.

You look down at the tent in his pants, gently nudging it with your hand, earning a hiss. “Where’d this giant bruise come from Sy?” You play along with his act and he smirks.

“Mmm, think from some pretty girl.” He looks at you his red eyes darker than ever.

“She must’ve been beautiful.” You smile and unzip the two zippers on his pants, his chest heaving with anticipation as you do so.

“Yeah, she is… Such a beauty.” Sylus whispers as you nudge on his pants, he lifts his hips enough for you to slide them off. But to his surprise, you yank off his boxers at the same time.

His cock springs out and slaps against his stomach, thick and dripping for you. He groans as the cool air hits his head and you giggle.

You run your fingers along his shaft and pretend to inspect. His brows furrowed as he bites back groans from the lightest touch. The most dangerous and wanted man in Philos falling apart from the slightest touch.

“i swear there’s pain from something…” Sylus tangles his hands in your locks and smirks.

“Maybe I need to check another way?” You look up at him before bringing his member to your mouth, immediately taking it in.

“Fuck baby…” He groans, low in his throat as you take him in, tongue rubbing against his tip, before you pull it out. You give kitten licks to the swollen red tip, and he hisses.

“Living up to your nickname huh? Shit…” He finally lets out a moan. His moans are the most beautiful thing you’ve heard and it never fails to make you pool between your thighs. You give the head a few more kisses before taking it back in.

He moans louder when you wrap your hand around the base that you can’t fit, stroking in time with your bobs. “Just like that… So good.”

You move your hand off his shaft and to his balls, gently fondling them. “Y/n baby… if you keep doing that I’ll cum.” He warns you and you continue.

He groans and feels himself get closer to the edge as you massage and suck him. “Baby…” He moans one last time before he grunts and finishes in your mouth.

His taste is something you so desperately craved, ropes shooting down your throat you moan around his length. He squeezes his eyes shut as that causes him to shoot out more cum.

Pulling you to him he kisses you, groaning at the taste of himself on your lips. His tongue slides into your mouth, he brings you to straddle him. He lowers you and you gasp, feeling his cock against your bare pussy. When the fuck did he take my clothes off? You think to yourself.

And then you realize, his evol. “Sylus!” You scold him.

“Had to baby… Couldn’t wait.” He laughs and lowers you down into him, his girth stretching you to maximum capacity. Thank god you were wet enough.

He groans and squeezes your hips, leaving bruises of their own as he attempts to bottom out. “So tight…” Sylus growls and thrusts up into you gathering more wetness.

You loosen around him and moan as he slowly thrusts up into you, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Meet me halfway baby…” He whispers and you begin to bounce, meeting his thrusts. The sounds of your thighs slapping against his fill the room.

“Sylus…” You moan his name and he groans.

“You’re all mine baby…” He growls.

You bounce faster and he smirks as he finally sees all his length make its way into you, head bruising your cervix. He bulges into your stomach and he places a hand on it letting out a needy moan.

“I fucking love when you ride me kitten… Always do so good. Look so pretty” He watches you intensely, every face you make engraved in his brain.

“Sy… My legs hurt.” You whisper and he nods.

“That’s alright, here let me do it for you. Let me take care of you.” Sylus takes over immediately and thrusts up into you, lifting himself off the bed to hit deeper. “Just relax for me, let me make you feel good.”

You feel yourself tightening and you moan louder, feeling your walls clench him he moans. “Gonna cum for me pretty? Let go for me.” He kisses you sloppily but passionately, intertwining your hands as he resonates with you. Your hands glow and intense pleasure courses through the both of you.

Your back arches and you come undone on him, essence sliding down his shaft as he slows his movements, making love to you as you finish.

Sylus moans and fills you with his cum not even a minute later, painting your womb while he lets out a string of pretty moans. “Fucking hell… I love you so much.”

His thrusts finally stop and he stays situated inside of you while he softens, you both pant heavily and he rubs your back before lifting you. His cock slips out with a wet pop and he returns you to his chest.

You whine at the lack of fullness and he smirks. “Miss me that bad already?” Sylus leans down and presses a kiss to your lips.

“Always.” You mumble and he chuckles.

“Always take such good care of me, sweetie. My pretty girl.” He pushes hair behind your ear that had fallen onto your face.

“Likewise…” You giggle and he playfully smacks your ass.

“Now let’s go shower, yeah?” He smirks as he looks at you and you roll your eyes.

“No funny business.” You laugh and get off his lap to stand beside the bed, legs wobbling.

“Just gonna take care of you. Aftercare~” He gives you a mischievous grin and leads you into the bathroom.

You mentally curse yourself as you prepare yourself for more “care.”

[wonsiwon]

party’s over, pack your stuff | l.hs

sinopsis | when heeseung returns from a party, he’s met with the shocking sight of his furious girlfriend tossing his belongings out the window and locking him out of the house. caught in the middle of a heated argument, the two find themselves pushing each other’s buttons, testing patience and limits as frustration and love clash in a chaotic standoff.

genre | stablished relationships?, fluff, angst, comedy

paring | bf! heeseung x fem!reader

you and heeseung had been together for two years, and while there were plenty of good moments, the bad ones seemed to creep in more often lately. the fights were becoming a regular thing, especially on the afternoons after he came back from parties. he’d spend hours at a friend’s place, leaving you at home, overthinking and imagining the worst. he’d stopped inviting you to these big gatherings, and it was hard not to wonder if he was cheating. the thought of him with someone else, while you were lying awake trying to convince yourself it wasn’t true, was eating you alive.

then today, everything you feared felt real. you got pictures of him at a party, grinning at some blonde girl—the same grin that used to be just for you.

heeseung didn’t see himself as a cheater. in his mind, he was just being “nice,” brushing off the attention he got because of his looks. but that smile, the one he flashed at other girls, made you want to punch him in the face.

it was around 3:20 in the afternoon when heeseung pulled into the driveway, still half-drunk and barely focused on the road. all he could think about was crashing into bed—probably not with you since he already expected a fight. not that it mattered to him; you’d forgive him eventually. or so he thought.

he didn’t even get the chance to park properly when he spotted you through the window. without thinking, he jumped out of the car, his eyes scanning the scene. clothes were scattered all over the grass, and then, just as he stepped closer, a pair of jeans flew out the window, landing in a messy heap.

“what are you doing?” heeseung asked, his eyes flicking between the clothes scattered on the ground and your furious figure at the window. “are those my clothes?”

you didn’t bother answering. instead, you grabbed a shoe and hurled it at him, hitting him square in the head.

“baby, what the hell?” heeseung muttered, trying to dodge the rain of items falling from the window. he knelt down, quickly stuffing clothes into his arms, but it felt like no matter how much he picked up, more kept falling.

“grab your stuff and get out of here.” you said, and tossed a pair of jeans at him.

heeseung caught them mid-air and looked down. “are those my favorites?” he asked, still not fully understanding what was happening.

he then glanced around, noticing people from the neighborhood walking by and stopping to watch. he could feel the eyes on him, making the situation even more awkward.

heeseung was completely thrown off guard. he didn’t understand what was happening. it didn’t make sense to him.

“can you just—” he started, but the words got stuck. “what’s going on?” he looked up at you again, trying to find some clue in your expression, but you just stood there, arms crossed, staring at him coldly.

heeseung sighed heavily, running a hand through his messy hair as he stood there, surrounded by his stuff scattered all over the grass. his headache was getting worse, and your angry expression through the window wasn’t making it any better.

“y/n, can we just talk like adults?” he pleaded, trying to calm the situation down.

“adults?” you snapped, leaning out the window with a glare. “were you acting like an adult when you were grinning at that blonde all night?”

heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. his mind went back to the party last night, and after a few seconds, his eyes widened as it hit him what this was all about. “you’ve got it all wrong—”

“wrong?!” you interrupted, your voice trembling with anger. “what part of you smirking at her, leaning in all close, and god knows what else am i getting wrong?!”

“she was just talking to me! i wasn’t doing anything!” heeseung argued, waving his hands in a dismissive gesture. “you always overthink this stuff. it’s exhausting!”

“oh, i’m exhausting?!” you yelled, throwing a sweatshirt at him with force. “you know what’s exhausting, heeseung? sitting here, while the guy i’ve been with for two years goes around dipping his dick in any female that flashes him a smile!”

heeseung’s eyes widened, and he snapped back, his voice rising. “are you serious right now? i wasn’t fucking anyone, y/n! she was just talking to me! you’re blowing this way out of proportion!”

“talking?” you laughed bitterly, leaning further out the window. “heeseung, do you even hear yourself? do you think i’m stupid? you didn’t even bother inviting me to the party!”

heeseung threw his hands up in frustration. “y/n, it’s not what you think! i didn’t invite you because i knew you hate those parties!”

you clenched your fists at your sides, voice shaking with anger. “was it good, huh? was it good fucking that bitch while you had your actual girlfriend at home?”

heeseung’s eyes widened, completely caught off guard. “what the hell are you talking about?” he shot back, gripping the sneakers you threw at him. “i didn’t sleep with anyone!”

“stop lying!” you spat, leaning even further out the window, your anger boiling over.

“y/n..” he started, his voice getting more desperate. “you’re seriously out of your mind right now. i wasn’t doing anything! i didn’t touch her, i didn’t—”

“save it!” you interrupted, gripping the window frame to steady yourself.

heeseung dropped the pile of clothes back onto the grass and started walking toward the door, his face set with determination.

“don’t bother.” you said, a hint of satisfaction in your voice while holding up a shiny new set of keys. “i changed the handle.”

heeseung stopped in his tracks, looking at you, completely shocked. “why the fuck would you do that?” his eyes narrowing as he looked at the keys in your hand. his mind was still reeling from the argument, but now he was thrown off even more by what you just said.

you just smirked as you held up the keys. “you really thought you could just walk in here and keep doing whatever you want?”

heeseung’s jaw clenched, and he dragged his tongue across his cheek, clearly trying to keep his temper in check. both hands rested on his hips as he glared at you. “so, this is how it’s gonna be now? you’re locking me out like some stranger?” he was furious—this whole situation felt ridiculous to him. “you really think a locked door is gonna stop me?”

you rolled your eyes, leaning against the frame. “what are you gonna do, heeseung? break a window? crawl through the vents?”

he chuckled darkly. “did you change the back door too?”

your face went pale. you hadn’t. and even though you could’ve lied, you knew he wouldn’t buy it—your hesitation was clear. you watched his eyes flick to the side of the house, and then it clicked. before you could react, heeseung was already walking toward the edge of the house, that knowing smirk spreading across his face.

“gotcha.”

panic set in, and you pushed off the window frame, clutching the keys tightly in your hand. “this motherfucker..” you muttered under your breath.

heeseung took off running toward the backyard, vaulting over the fence with ease. panicking, you bolted down the stairs, nearly tripping as you tried to beat him to the door.

you hated yourself for how dumb you’d been, but even more, you hated the fact that heeseung was actually pretty smart. too smart. and the worst part? he wasn’t wrong. as much as you wanted to blame him for being insufferable, you couldn’t deny it was your own slip-up that handed him the upper hand. again.

you cursed under your breath, skidding to a halt in front of the door just in time to see heeseung standing in the frame, his tall figure all over you. his smirk was insufferable as he leaned against the door, looking down at you with a cocky expression.

you gasped, turning on your heels and sprinting back toward the stairs. “i hate you!” you shouted as heeseung darted after you, his long strides closing the distance quickly.

“i know you don’t, princess!” he called out, laughing as he chased you up the stairs.

your heart raced as you reached the top, your mind scrambling for a plan. heeseung wasn’t about to let this go, and you weren’t ready to give in just yet. you slammed the door of the bedroom, hoping to lock it before heeseung reached you. but just as it was about to close, his foot wedged itself in the gap.

“leave me alone!” you yelled, your voice desperate as you pushed against the door with all your strength.

“not a chance.” heeseung growled, using his weight to push it open.

the door flew back, forcing you to stumble a few steps away. before you could react, heeseung grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but not painful.

“let me go!” you shouted, twisting and squirming in his hold, trying to free yourself.

“stop it, y/n!” he barked, his voice low and steady, though his breathing was heavy from the chase. “you’re acting like a kid.” heeseung’s grip tightened for a second, but he didn’t pull you back. his gaze softened just a little, and his voice dropped. “baby, stop. i’m just trying to talk.”

but you weren’t ready to listen. you were too angry. “i don’t care what you’re trying to do.” you snapped, pushing against his chest. “you don’t get to act like nothing’s wrong when you’re out there doing god knows what with other girls.”

heeseung couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, the tension in his body easing slightly. “i didn’t do anything, baby. it was just a stupid conversation—nothing more.”

“bullshit!” you yelled, shoving against him harder, but all it did was make him chuckle. “why are you laughing? you think this is funny?”

“i’m not..” he said, his smile only growing wider. “it’s just funny how you get like this, all grumpy.” he reached out and pinched your nose, a playful gesture that only made you more frustrated.

you swatted his hand away, glaring at him. “this isn’t funny, heeseung!” you snapped, your voice sharp with annoyance.

he raised his hands in mock surrender, still smirking. “okay, okay. i get it. but you’re overreacting, baby.” his tone was teasing, but there was an underlying seriousness in his eyes. “i’m not doing anything wrong.”

“you always say that,” you shot back, your anger flaring again. “how am i supposed to believe you?”

“listen, i don’t know who sent you that picture, but i swear, princess, i wasn’t flirting with her.” he stepped closer, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “you can ask my friends.”

you scoffed, crossing your arms. “i don’t trust your friends.”

he raised an eyebrow, his tone calm but firm. “you trust jungwon though. he was there.”

the mention of jungwon made you pause for a moment. jungwon was the calm one in the group, always reliable, and someone you could count on when it came to keeping things straight. but the one you should really keep an eye on was no one but jake. he was the king of stirring up trouble, and you couldn’t count the number of times he’d egged heeseung on to do something stupid.

your silence gave heeseung an opening. he softened his voice, stepping closer, but still keeping a little distance to test the waters. “look, i get it. i screwed up, and yeah, maybe i should’ve kept my distance from her. but you know me, baby. you know me. i don’t care about anyone else.”

you rolled your eyes, though your resolve was faltering slightly. “you’re always sweet-talking your way out of this stuff, heeseung. it doesn’t change the fact that you were grinning at her like she was the most interesting person in the world.”

“sweet-talking?” he repeated, a playful smirk creeping back onto his face. “baby, i don’t need to sweet-talk. i’m just telling you the truth.”

heeseung took another step forward, and this time you didn’t move back. he reached for your hands, holding them gently in his. his thumbs brushed against your knuckles in slow, soothing circles.

“i don’t want to fight with you anymore..” he said softly, his voice steady and earnest. “you’re the one i come home to. you’re the one i care about. that’s not going to change because of some random girl at a party.”

you crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “i’ll forgive you… only if you stop going to these stupid parties. and definitely not hang out when jake’s around.”

heeseung nodded quickly, a look of relief washing over his face. “i promise, no more parties like that. and no more hanging around jake if it’s going to make you this upset.”

you felt his hands gently grip your waist, but you didn’t pull away. instead, you looked him in the eyes, studying his expression. “i mean it, heeseung. i don’t care how much fun you think you’re having. if i ever catch you doing something like that again—”

“you won’t.” he cut in and gave you a reassuring squeeze. “no more parties, no more drama, just us.”

you let out a small sigh, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “good. that’s what i need to hear.”

you let him pull you into a hug, though you kept your arms at your sides, still not fully giving in. he pressed his chin against the top of your head, his voice soft as he muttered, “thank you, baby. i’m glad we’re on the same page now.”

you stayed there for a moment, both of you just breathing, when suddenly he froze, his expression shifting. “wait—” he said, looking toward the window. “the clothes.”

you followed his gaze, realizing he was just now remembering the mess outside. before you could say anything, he groaned and buried his face in his hands. “god, the neighbors must think we’re insane.”

you crossed your arms, smirking. “well, we kinda are.”

heeseung turned back to you with a playful pout. “can’t believe i almost lost my future wife and my home in one day.”

your cheeks burned at his words, but you refused to let him off that easy. “future wife?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “who said i’d marry you after this?”

he grinned, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around you again. “you’ll forgive me.” he said confidently. “you love me too much.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “you better start picking up those clothes before i change my mind.”

heeseung groaned dramatically, dropping his head onto your shoulder. “can’t we just leave them there? maybe the wind will blow them away or something.”

you pushed him off with a light shove, crossing your arms. “nice try. i’m not going to be the one explaining to the neighbour why your underwear is hanging from her tree.”

heeseung winced at the thought, rubbing the back of his neck. “fine, fine. but you’re helping me. you threw them out, after all.”

you raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. “oh no, this is all on you, mister. think of it as your punishment.”

he sighed, giving you a mock glare before turning toward the stairs. “you’re cruel, y/n. absolutely ruthless.”

“and don’t forget it.” you shot back, following him downstairs to the front yard.

the scene outside was somehow even more chaotic than you remembered. a couple of kids from down the street were pointing and giggling as they passed by, and neighbour from next door was giving heeseung a very disapproving look from his porch.

“great.” heeseung muttered under his breath, bending down to pick up a pair of socks. “i’m the neighborhood clown now.”

you couldn’t help but laugh as you watched him gather his clothes, his tall frame awkwardly hunched as he tried to scoop up as much as he could at once. “well, you kind of earned it.” you teased, leaning against the fence.

heeseung straightened up, his arms full of crumpled t-shirts and jeans. “yeah, yeah. laugh it up. just wait until i get back inside.”

you tilted your head, smirking. “oh? and what are you going to do? throw all your clothes back out?”

he flashed you a grin, the kind that made your stomach flip despite everything. “nah. i’ll just make you fold all of them.”

you rolled your eyes, but a small smile crept onto your face. “dream on, heeseung.”

he chuckled, shaking his head as he bent down to grab the last of his things. as much as you wanted to stay mad at him, moments like this reminded you why you’d stuck around for two years. heeseung was frustrating, infuriating even, but he was also the guy who could make you laugh when you least expected it.

as he stood up, arms overflowing with clothes, he looked over at you with a sheepish smile. “uh, a little help?”

you sighed, walking over to take some of the load off his hands. “you’re lucky i don’t actually hate you.”

heeseung’s grin widened as he leaned down to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “and i’m lucky you’re still here.”

[rainrot4me]

Eyeless Jack General Headcannons

Summary: Basic, SFW, and NSFW head-cannons. My personal thoughts, feelings, and opinions about Jack as a character.

TW: NSFW below the cut, minors dni! Above the cut is sfw! Mentions of gore

Words: 2.3k

A/N: NSFW is reader with female anatomy.

Basic:

- The definition of nonchalant, doesn’t convey his emotions very well at all so he lets his actions do the talking.

- Even though he may put on a front of being calculated and detailed, everything he does is purely instinctual or off the top of his head. He’s never made great plans or thought further on a problem than he had to, relying solely on time or for everything to work itself out. Ben calls it ‘thuggin it out’. He may seem all cool, calm, and collected- but really, he just doesn’t care.

- Drives a brown 1989 Ford F-250. Found it discarded on some old hunting grounds and spent the next 3 years learning about truck parts just to fix it up. It’s nothing pretty and the A/C doesn’t work half the time, but that doesn't stop the proxies from either stealing it for missions or Jeff cruising it to gas stations.

- Loves his alone time. If ‘Do Not Disturb’ was a living being.

- Incredible sense of smell, a blessing and a curse.

- Even though he doesn’t really feel emotionally tied to anyone or reliant on anyone's attention, he would never pass up a good conversation with Jeff or Toby. Finds their problems interesting (and funny).

- Even though he doesn’t have any eyes, he can still see. How? Who even knows? The demon would describe it as more of a viewing like he can detail everything that’s happening, but he can’t physically see it. Cryptic stuff even he’s too dumb to figure out.

- Despite everything, probably the most upkeep and clean member of the mansion. While eating organs and harvesting them can be messy, he doesn’t like the grime and prefers to clean off as soon as he can. The same goes for his clothes and room/office. Surprisingly tidy.

- Not as smart as he likes to present himself. Sure, he’s a medical student with more experience than anyone in a 50-mile radius, but that doesn’t mean he knows what he’s doing all of the time. Whenever the proxies roll in with serious injuries, the demon shoots them full of antibiotics, cauterizes the wound, and prays it doesn’t get worse from there. He knows what he’s doing, but that doesn’t mean he knows it’ll work 100% of the time.

- A silent panicker. Will absolutely tear his brain to shreds worrying or fighting with himself, but keep a stone look on his face the entire time. Gauging his emotions is like conversing with a brick wall.

- Dry humor. Absolutely will answer your long, emotional paragraph with a thumbs-up emoji.

- In some sick way, slightly prefers the life he’s living now. It may be grotesque and depressing, but his knowledge of the medical field and human bodies is infinitely more broad than it would’ve been. He quite enjoys the freedom he has now.

- Never happier than when winter is fizzling out and the first signs of spring show up. The warmth, the colors, the vibrancy coming back. He can’t get enough of it. Absolutely will get lost just studying the snow melting from the new flower beds.

- Locked in the basement of the mansion at all times. Only comes out to eat or on the rare occasion he’s assigned a mission. The only place he truly feels comfortable.

- Will get oddly emotional when light reflects on the lake just right or the fog settles on the ridge just perfectly. You’d never guess, but he’s a big poetic bum.

- Purrs. Like a cat. Ears flick around like one too.

- With music, he’s a big lyric listener. The song could sound absolutely terrible, but as long as he resonates with the words, will enjoy it anyway.

- Unorganized organization freak. Everything has a place, even if you don’t know where that place is.

- Seriously underestimates just how overtowering he is. He’s nowhere near Slender’s height, but the demon easily doubles in the average human’s vertical. When he was human he was taller, but never like this. He’s still getting used to it.

- Lanky but quick. Limbs and features are longer, but the muscle index makes up for it. He’s seriously fit, but everything is evenly distributed. Serious muscle definition in his arms and back, though. What he lacks in strength, he makes up in speed and agility.

- Enjoys Radiohead, Cigarettes After Sex, Paramore, and Three Days Grace. Will also never admit it, but really enjoy the Twilight soundtracks.

Dating Him/SFW:

“My pet…” “Little thing…” “Pretty thing…”

- Gift-giving love language. Loves to make you things unexpectedly and watch the surprise on your face. Steals jewelry or clothing from his victims to gift to you.

- It takes a lot for the demon to even consider you a friend let alone a potential love interest. But you best believe once he’s decided he wants you, that’s it. You take precedent, anything and everything else in his life takes a step back and you become the focal point. Heaven help if you ever change your mind about him.

- “My pretty thing… my lovely little pet… all mine…”

- Physically can not get enough of your smell. Whether it be sweet or sour, whatever emotion you dwell in, this demon will bury his nose into the crook of your neck and waste away there. It’s intoxicating to him, like an emotional tie he’s bound to.

- Like to study you. Your movements, your voice, the way you react to certain stimuli. Everything about you and your personality just intrigues him to no end.

- Possessive in the, ‘If they look at you, I’ll kill them’ way, but also is sure enough in himself and you to know he doesn’t need to go that far. Would rather lock you away for only him to see, but respects you too much.

- Has a deep-rooted fear of hurting you, so any fight or disagreement turns him distant. He’ll come back eventually, but that doesn’t mean he’ll be comfortable enough to get all touchy-feely again just yet.

- A lot like Edward from Twilight, he wants to taste you the most. It’s seriously a bad habit to nip at your skin or get lost in your scent because he knows how easy it would be just to take a chunk out of you. Has to be very aware and cautious of himself.

- Even though it took a long time for him to be comfortable enough to take his mask off around you, he still gets wildly conscious about it whenever you’re around. Loves nothing more than when you’re caressing his face or kissing his skin because he knows it's genuine.

- For a cannibal, he’s an insanely good cook. Will only cook for you, however. He says it's out of love, but really he knows deep down he wants to control what you eat so you have good organ health. You best believe he’ll have you hitting those core diet needs.

- Doesn’t sleep often, but when he does it's for long periods. The problem is, he likes to completely swallow you with his body and wrap around you, keeping you there until he eventually wakes up. Really enjoys the body heat you provide. Lowkey a small spoon.

- Slouches to your height.

- His favorite time is after a long day, curling up in a big chair with a book and you in his lap. You cocoon in his arms as he leans back, a blanket draped over the two of you. He’s naturally cold-blooded so he would stay there forever if he could.

- “You smell so good, pet… So good…”

- Talks in short, mumbled sentences. The mansion residents started using you as a translator because he would only say more than 3 words at a time around you.

- Absolutely never cared about how he looked before you. You taught him decent clothing styles and now he rocks the ‘dark academia/soft boy’ aesthetic like a champ.

- Made you your own special corner in his lab just because he couldn’t deal with having to be away while working.

- An intense kisser. It’s never soft pecks but full-on mouth-consuming makeouts. He’s a hungry guy who can only be satisfied if he feels like he’s swallowed enough of your tongue and lips with his own. Your lips and chin are absolutely soaked with slobber afterward.

- Firm believer in carrying you. No matter where or how far, he likes to bridal-style haul you around or have you latch onto his back.

- “I could eat you up. Just kidding… yeah…”

- Goes ridiculously insane when he can see the chubbiness on your thighs or stomach. You sitting down or lying out, you best believe he is fighting every demon internally not to take a massive bite on your skin.

Dating Him/NSFW:

- Again, skin. No better than a man during the dark times when you flash just a little too much leg or abdomen. He’s on you in seconds and clawing your clothes off to see more.

- You will never leave an encounter without cum dripping out of you. Refuses to get off anywhere else but deep inside of one of your holes. Call it a breeding kink but his animalistic tendencies just won’t let him pull out. Grunting and panting against your nape as he slams inside as far as he can to keep you from squirming away

- “You can take it, I know you can… Need you full of me… All of me…”

- A greedy kisser. Grabbing your jaw and fucking his tongues into the warm wetness of your mouth, teasing to just push them further past the tightness of your throat. Even when you squirm and gag, he just pushes them deeper, testing your resolve.

- You reach your breaking point longggg before he does. A couple of orgasms deep and he hasn’t even put his cock in yet, just milking your body for all it’s worth. It may be because he has a high sex drive, but it’s mainly because he gets off best when you’re pliable and numb to his touch. It’s a domination thing.

- A pussy worshiper. Much like his adoration for any organ, he really appreciates all of his knowledge of the female anatomy and how good he is at eating you out. If he can, or if you can take it, he’ll press all three of his tongues deep inside and spread your plush walls to his content. Likes to swap between focusing on your cunt and your clit, but mainly both at once.

- Bite marks galore. Has to be careful with how much blood he draws, but you’ll never get by without at least one good bite mark on your shoulder. Likes to possessively mark you all over just for others to see. Same feeling with claw marks.

- There’s some cognitive switch in his brain that flips when he gets to a certain point of desperation, like after not seeing you for a long period or after a particularly difficult day. It’s like a starved creature hungry and desperate for anything. He’ll ravage your body and mind, fucking you both to pure exhaustion or until he physically can’t cum anymore.

- On that note, ruts. They’re seasonal, usually coming around the first two weeks of spring and fall. He can’t control when they show up, but once started, they usually last 3 to 4 days, each day getting less intense. Since it’s such an animalistic ordeal, he loses all restraint or moral compass on how to treat you. Bites, blood, wounds, and injury are all possible. They’re not intentional, but he physically cannot control his mental or physical, blinded completely by lust. Thank god his sperm isn’t compatible with human anatomy, because that’s the only place he’ll cum.

- “I’m sorry- sorry, pet- Just one more time- just one more- Fuck- I promise-”

- Both ankles wrapped in one claw. Two claws overlapping around your waist. Yeah…

- Starts slow, so achingly slow you want to rut your hips and get him deeper. He likes the feeling of entering you, of spreading your plush cunt around his cock and finding its home deep inside. He’ll get faster eventually, but for now, he just wants to drink up the sights and smells of your desperation. That first gasp gets him every time.

- Mating press or nothing else. If you want to try something new, he’ll happily oblige, but the only way he’s truly happy is if your legs are pushed back to your shoulders and his hips are slamming down into yours. He’ll take the occasional doggy style, but only if his teeth are latched on to the back of your neck and holding you docile.

- Could watch your face come undone all day. Loves to see your eyes roll when you come, or the sweat and tears dripping off your cheeks. The dark flush of your skin gets him so hungry he has to physically restrain himself.

- “You’re so gorgeous- so fuckin’ pretty- Ah- Look at me. C’mon, don’t get shy now…”

- One time, after a particularly messy organ harvest, he couldn’t wait to get to you. He was so livid, body practically shaking with excitement when he snuck into your room that he didn’t even have time to clean himself off. Blood (not yours) stained your sheets and skin, messy claws dragging across your stomach and chest to coat you in dark red, his tongues quick to shoot out and lap at the stuff. You, covered in blood and his mess, sent him spinning. That was the fastest he’s ever came.

- Growling, panting, snarling, huffing, chittering, teeth gnashing, LOUD ASF

- Has a size thing. Comparing your hand to his makes him so horny and eager to just pick you up and fuck you. Admires how small and easy you are to just throw around like a doll.

- Absolutely has had sick fantasies of fucking your organs like a fleshlight. He’d never tell you, but the thought of cutting a slit in your abdomen to push his cock into the tangle of intestines and muscles makes him drool. He can almost imagine how warm it would be.

- Gets a high when you squirt. Feels accomplished to be covered in your juices and having you completely ruined for anyone but him.

- “You can take it for me, yeah? Go ahead and make a mess… It’s alright…”

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[dream-with-a-fever]

ginny weasley did not

defend harry against malfoy in flourish and blots when he was picking on him (it’s the first time she ever speaks in front of him)

carry around a horcrux for the better half of a year and realise that something was wrong and try to dispose of it at age 11

get possessed, manipulated and controlled by one of the darkest wizards of all time and live to tell the tale

get forced to write her own farewell note on the wall in blood and walk to her own death

go on as normally as possible afterwards despite the trauma of her first year, because she didn’t want to be a nuisance

make harry a get well soon card after he fell off his broom because of the dementors in third year

tell harry and ron off when making fun of neville for not being able to get a yule ball date

refuse harry as a yule ball date despite having harboured a crush on him for years because she didn’t want to hurt neville

see harry was floundering after hermione & ron left him to do prefect duties and immediately take charge and invite him to come with her

defend luna against bullies, and encourage neville to believe in himself and know his self worth

decide to quit pining for harry because it was a waste of time, instead dating other boys and becoming a solid friend to him

join dumbledore’s army without a second thought, coining the name and even encouraging more ravenclaws to join

call harry out when he was in a downward spiral about being possessed, explained her own experience and remained gracious despite him forgetting her biggest trauma

fill in for harry as seeker in the quidditch team and help them win the quidditch cup that year

reassure harry that he will play quidditch again, when he was feeling low about umbridge’s life long ban

encourage harry to talk to cho if that’s what he’s upset about (putting her own complicated feelings for him aside)

get harry to admit what was actually upsetting him and helping him find a solution

immediately agree to help harry by standing guard outside umbridge’s office despite not knowing any details

call harry out whenever he was being snarky / impatient with her and not take any of his shit

disarm malfoy & the others and escape from umbridge’s office to rush to harry and hermione’s aid

refuse to stay behind at hogwarts stating that she cared for sirius too and wanted to help

go with the others to the DoM in an attempt to save sirius, risking her life and breaking her ankle in the process

refuse to tolerate her brother’s new girlfriend who was being snobbish about her family’s home and lifestyle (but then go on to love and respect her, as they mature)

get invited to join the slug club because of her skill with hexes and not nepotism (the only one who wasn’t invited for that reason)

tell off zabini for laughing at harry about what went down at the DoM

call ron the fuck out when he was borderline slut-shaming her

crash into the commentator’s podium to shut zacharias smith up from talking smack about the gryffindor team

immediately try to intervene when she thought harry was in danger of being possessed by the hbp potions book

tell off dean and seamus for laughing when harry got seriously hurt in quidditch

come to harry’s defence after he attacked malfoy (bc he had to defend himself against an unforgivable curse) and stand up to (one of her) closest friend(s) to do so

step up to play seeker in harry’s place (again) in the quidditch final and winning the cup in his absence (!!!!)

make harry feel “the happiest he had ever been” when they finally got together

make my boy LAUGH 24/7 and bring him (and many others) so much JOY

support harry after dumbledore’s death, knowing when to give him comfort and also space

show unwavering love and loyalty to harry when he was trying to break up with her, claiming she didn’t care about the danger

also ultimately not fight his decision, understanding his need to stop voldemort once and for all, despite her being completely heartbroken

respect harry’s wishes to stay broken up, but still give him the most INSANE kiss ever as a birthday present (and something for him to fight for!!)

return to hogwarts under the rule of deatheaters, despite the target on her back as a blood traitor (also as brother of ron AND ex girlfriend of harry)

take the place of younger students and try to protect them from being tortured by the carrows

start up dumbledore’s army again with neville and rebel against the system, to reek as much havoc as possible at hogwarts

try to steal the sword of gryffindor from snape’s office because they wanted to help the cause as much as possible despite understanding why they needed it and ultimately being punished for it

refuse to stay put in the room of requirement when her family were out risking their lives during the battle and given the chance, immediately joined the fray

comfort an injured younger student at the battle, and stay strong for them, despite having just found out her brother had been killed

duel with bellatrix in the battle and almost lose her life doing it

go through so much and have her trauma be overlooked and forgotten by so many

go on to play QUIDDITCH PROFESSIONALLY in the team she DREAMED of playing for

and then going back to a career in writing (sports correspondent) despite her traumatic experience with the diary

marry the love of her life and have three beautiful children and get the happy ending that she deserves after EVERYTHING????

all for you guys to shit on her the way you do. put some goddamn RESPECT on MISS GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY’S name. she’s NOT a mary sue, she’s NOT a bully, and she’s NOT boring. she’s an ICON.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny, at 17, did not have the best love life. This is partially because two of his must haves in a partner are " Will protect me with their life" and "Will commit unspeakable acts of violence for me" or at least beat someone up for his honor.

Naturally, this doesn't always result in the most stable of partners.

His first girlfriend, Valerie, became an anti-hero and broke up with him for his safety.

He finally got with Sam in sophomore year only for the feds to come into class one day to arrest her. To his surprise, her crimes had nothing to do with ghosts but rather an incident where she went too far and committed a few acts of economic terrorism. Danny and Tucker never really learned the specifics of the crimes, and her parents hushed up as many news outlets as they could, so there wasn't much info to go around. All they knew was that she saved thousands of lives by doing it.

In the end, she was sentenced to eight years, and she broke up with him so that he wouldn't wait around for her to get out.

His third partner was a guy named David who was really sweet. Unfortunately, Danny got kidnapped one day by David's arch nemesis, who was some villain with a corny edge lord name. Yeah. David had become a a super hero after they started dating.

And if you guessed that he freaked out and dumped Danny for his own protection, you'd deserve a cookie.

Danny was noticing a pattern here. One that continued with everyone he dated. They always became some kind of hero before dumping him for his own protection, and it was infuriating. Sure, danny could defend himself, but he was never deep enough into the relationship to reveal his phantom half, and frankly, his hero career was something he left behind when he left Amity and destroyed the portals.

He met Tim at a skatepark after Tim fell off his board cause of some jerk speeding out in front of him on his own board, forcing Tim to stop or else hit the guy. The guy was unrepentant and Tim calmed him down (this did not stop him from melting the guys wheels with an ectoblast when no one was looking).

Tim then asked him to coffee. Danny, noticing how cute Tim was, agreed.

Danny was up front with his parents being mad scientists in Illinois. He always was with all the people he dated. It was better not to hide these kinds of things or worse, wait until you're already attached and afraid of losing them. So he always told potential partners as early as possible. Tim seemed a bit put off by this but was calmer about it than most, and they continued chatting.

Tim didn't seem like the type to turn to heroism or anti heroism so he felt safe on their later dates. It was only after he had known Tim for a while that he put the pieces together.

Tim was always covered in bruises that he hid with his clothes and make up, he had complained about batman over the phone when he thought danny couldn't hear, he was rich, he knew how to fight as revealed by his stances and footwork dispite trying to pretend he didn't, and lastly he held a lot of political power and influence being Bruce Wayne's son. Power he had no reservations using when it suited him or he was just feeling petty (that pettiness was part of why danny was falling for him harder than he thought he could)

No wonder Tim was so okay with his parents being rouges.

Tim was a villain!

At least Tim wouldn't leave him like all his exes. Danny doesn't think he could handle it if he did. Another good thing about this is now he can talk more freely about the more villainous and morally gray ideas and inventions when he was alone with Tim.

Tim didn't see anything wrong with Danny's idea to use something similar to cloning pods to make synthetic meats like rump roasts and steaks as a way to end world hunger and was eager to add to the conversation.

[teastyun]

༺ paid undone

arcane sevika x female reader (nsfw)

working as an owner of a mechanics shop at day and prostitute at night at Zaun's most famous brothel, you expect a quiet night shift after a hard day of work. your expectations go avail and you miserably fail at keeping your identity hidden from Sevika, who has just earlier visited you at your shop that day.

a/n: instead of listening to my lecture on English diachronic history I wrote this in my notes app and dear god pls let me ride her until my legs fall off

masterlist

putting your makeup pouch back into your personal small closet, you wonder who's today's clients will be. on your way to work, you've noticed how empty and calm the streets are recently. no fights, no big groups lingering in each corner eyeing anyone that's passing by, only a few drunkards at their usual shit.

words were spread about an ex-prison mate duelling her way through the ring in the center of Zaun after a fatal crisis in the upper world. interestingly enough, the brothel's business wasn't booming since her entry in Zaun, equalling a calm shift for you. lucky for you, you're paid per hour instead of per client, so you expect a good rest after your long shift at your mechanics shop.

as your usual routine, you put your mask on and wrap a robe around your lightly clothed body, before you take a quick trip to visit the madam and owner of the brothel.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ

entering the long dark hallway, you keep your head low and walk steady towards the madam's room.

on your way you pass several rooms with slightly open doors, revealing the sounds of huffing, moaning, but also laughing. despite the empty streets, the brothel seems to be lively today, nonetheless.

you take a deep breath and close your eyes, as your fingers touched the doorknob of the room. your boss is a lovely old lady, but sometimes intimidates the shit out of you, despite the years you've already worked at her institution.

"there you are, y/n." she looks up from her papers with a cigarette in between her long wrinkled fingers decorated with heavy rings and long painted nails. you are one of her longest and most reliable workers, and she makes sure to treat you accordingly.

"s'bit a teeny quiet, ain't it?" she looks up at you with her long, cat eye-ish lashes and heavy purple eyeshadow accentuating her wrinkles around them. in response you lightly nod, not sure why she's suddenly talking about anything but your upcoming client.

you look at her as you wait for her to continue.

her fingernails tap like a melody against her cigarette trinklet, making you nervous with each taping sound.

"m'love, i've got a rather... special client waiting for you today. are you aware of Silco's... mates?"

while deep in your thoughts you first nod, but quickly shake your head after.

earlier, you've seen a slender girl with long blue braids at your shop, a tall and intimidatingly buff woman with a heavy red cloak covering half her body, following her close behind without exchanging a single word with either the girl, nor you. but, where they really from Silco?

the madam watches every single move of yours. her head tilts mischievously at your response. "very well. tonight, i assigned a special lady of Silco's to you. she's waiting for you in room xii."

your already tense nerves aren't pleased to hear about today's responsibility you're taking, but you silently thank her by lightly bowing your torso before you make your way to the assigned room.

her voice stops you as you open the heavily decorated door. "and y/n, make sure to please her with every single pretty ounce of yours."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ

you were already fucked before you even entered the room.

you expected a calm, restful shift with easy clients. instead, you have one of the most powerful and influential people of Zaun in your rooms, waiting for you to finally enter.

not looking up as you close the door behind you, you take off your robe while trying to maintain your breathing. as it falls to the floor, you take a quick glance at her.

there she is, the same woman you were eyeing up and down today at the mechanics shop. will she recognise you?

hoping that won't be the case in sake of your privacy and reputation, you slowly walk to the backless stool in front of her as you take a seat.

on your way, you carefully observe her. she even has the same clothes on as earlier. the grey and red tones in her clothing accentuate her toned body underneath. looking closely, she even seems to be hiding something underneath her mysterious cloak.

without further thought, you greet her by bowing your head lightly in respect, waiting for her to make the next move.

you notice her shifting in her seat, as she leans towards you while resting her free arm on her knee.

confused by her behaviour, you look up and notice her brown eyes piercing yours. she is incredibly intimidating and you can't help the furrow that sneaks between your eyebrows in confusion beneath your mask. you've never had a client look at you for minutes without a single sound nor move.

normally, your client has a certain thought wanting to be practiced with you as soon as possible, since time is money, especially in this brothel, where clients pay per minute. Zaun isn't necessarily known for its strong economy, so clients sometimes visit on the occasion for only a handful of minutes before they need leave.

but this, this was different. her piercing eyes where warm, but somehow so cold at the same time as she slowly eyes your appearance.

you're wearing a beautiful set of lingerie in your best colours with white lace accentuating your finest features. elegant body chains and dangling jewelry make sounds as you move your body. unlike your other lingerie sets, this one is extremely revealing around your chest, showing no fabric on the front of your breasts and leaving them on full display to see. your bottoms is attached to your stockings matching your set with clips on the front and back of each thigh.

her eyes stopped at the sight of your thighs pressing against the band of your stockings before continuing down your legs. as they move back up, you try accentuate your breasts by taking a deep breath, while looking at her through your mask with expecting eyes.

a smirk appears on her lips. "are you nervous?"

her rough voice creates goosebumps on your skin, but the question agitates you. why would the first thing she says to you be such assumption?

you tilt your head in response, not sure of how to react to such thing. she is still only a few centimetres away from you, making the distance between you incredibly tense.

she copies the tilt in your head and looks deeply into your eyes, searching for something specific in them.

"I'm Sevika," she whispers a mere distance away from you as she holds out her hand.

you take another deep breath and touch her hand in a handshake, making the situation feel so ridiculous. what was she trying to get out of you?

her hand feels incredibly big. and fuck, you wish you could feel that rough skin between your folds. just the mere thought made you clench around nothing as your cunt is soaking in your lingerie. before your thoughts could continue, you slipped your hand back. your eyes never left hers.

she leans back and rests against the cushions behind her, as she eyes you once more. this time, her eyes won't leave your chest.

your nipples are perky from the cool air in the room despite the lack of ventilation. or maybe you really are nervous?

"you're not much of a talker huh?" she continues, "show me yourself."

you reach back to unclasp your bra, but she stops you, "no, show me what you usually do here."

her eyes roam the heavily decorated room and your thoughts are spiralling. at her request, you stand up and receive a box of toys each room has available on the side of the lounging area.

in it, you look for a dildo and bottle of lube. what were you doing with most of your clients? this woman made you ask yourself questions you've never considered being asked.

all of your clients are normally males, which are in heavy need of a relief by pushing their dicks into your hole and calling it a day. you didn't mind, since it's the routine of your income at the end of the day.

but right here and now, you were supposed to fuck yourself with a dildo in front of this woman, who watches every single move of yours with piercing eyes. and fuck, you felt small.

leaning back on your stool, you fully removed your soaking thong, hoping she wouldn't notice your wetness literally stringing to your cunt as you remove it.

to your disadvantage, she notices everything. her eyes follow the soaked thong falling to the ground, before they move up to look into your eyes again. fuck, this feels so much more intimate than any sex you've ever had and you continue dripping from your cunt at her dark gaze.

you spread your legs apart, hoping to drag her gaze down there. your eyes finally break the eye contact and follow the movement of your hands as you squirt some lubricant on the side of the dildo. it is veiny and big, a difference to the ones of your average clients.

with one arm resting on another stool behind you, you glide the sides of the dildo through your folds, making your chest jump at the feeling of the cold lube. you spread the lubricant across the dildo by dragging and shifting it through your folds, bumping your sensitive clit.

you look back into her eyes, questioning if you should really do this by hesitating with your next move.

she finally looks down at your dripping pussy coated with lubricant. on cue, you push the dildo completely aside in one go.

you want to see her reaction, but a moan escapes your lips as you try to stay quiet. this woman was onto something, but there's no way she can identify you from earlier.

nervous to look at her, you drag your eyes back to hers while slowly fucking yourself with the dildo. she seems to become restless, too.

it was her turn to look at you with furrowed brows as you began to fuck yourself harder, while trying to maintain your breath as you're biting your lower lip in pleasure.

fucking yourself faster and harder, trying to chase the warmth in your lower belly without success, you throw your head back hoping not a single sound escapes your lips.

your arm begins to hurt and you can feel the sweat building up on your forehead and cheekbones from exhaustion.

fuck, you really are about to sob. you look so pathetic trying to chase your own high while failing miserably, knowing acting one out won't go through with her.

"you can't come, beautiful?" she asks teasingly and grins at your miserable state. upset with her comment you look at her and you finally see it.

"here," she tells you, petting her lap her one hand, where she somehow managed to attach a harness on when you were in your own element.

you stopped your movements immediately and slipped the dildo out without any thought, wincing at the uncomfortable feeling inside of you before attaching it to her harness and climbing into her lap.

as you attach it through her harness, your thighs rest on her firm lap. and god, this woman was incredibly handsome. her strong facial features look even sharper with her heavy dark eyes piercing yours.

you really weren't sure what she was getting out of this. any other client would've been already chasing their orgasm inside you. Sevika hasn't touched you once. she hasn't even taken off any of her clothing yet.

as the wet dildo rests against your folds, you eye her cloak. before realising her bionic arm, she already has it moved to press a cold hand on your back to push you closer. she looks up for a reaction, but you grasp her shoulders to steady yourself without a sound.

her bionic arm cups your ass, making you gasp at the cold feeling on your skin, and her other hand pushes the dildo easily into you again, making your head throw back in pleasure of feeling full again in her presence.

adjusting once again at the feeling of being full, you look at her with heavy eyelids.

"can i touch you?" she asks quietly, her eyes never leaving yours.

you nod and push your chest towards her face as a cue. she grins at your boldness and presses a wet kiss on your breast, as her hand grips your hips, making them roll against her strap. her mouth sucks and bites your skin around your nipples, occasionally licking your perky nipple, making you see stars behind that mask.

as she sucks harder and harder, you beginn to slowly grind into her. your job has never felt this intimate with any client before.

her bionic arm holds you steady against her as her hips grind to meet yours. your breath was incredibly unsteady, trying to deal with the pleasure that builds up inside your core. her mouth travelled up to your exposed ear, nibbling at your dangling piercings and licking your earlobe. "you're in control, beautiful. do whatever you like," she whispers.

you stop in your tracks to look at her almost in shock. spiralling in your head, you don't know what to do. did you ever have control over your clients? trembling, you reached for a vibrator and pressed it into her hand.

"hold this against my clit as i ride you," you tell her quietly. hearing your voice, a smile sneaks onto her lips. "gladly," she responds and turns it on.

she kisses your breast before pressing the vibrator softly against your clit. you loudly moan from the sudden stimulation, beginning to ride her strap like there's no tomorrow. she sucks and bites your nipple, making you see more stars than before. your sighs and gasps turn into moans, not caring about hiding your voice from her anymore.

the dildo presses perfectly against your sweet spot inside of you as the vibrator teases your clit and you can't get enough of it. fuck, you're becoming greedy of this woman. you've never achieved such pleasure inside of you with anyone nor alone.

feeling your the warmth slowly building up in your lower belly, you whisper breathlessly "i-i'm close, Sevika," through your mask, not sure if she could even decipher your words. she reacts by biting down on your skin and cupping your ass with her bionic hand, almost making you scream as you grind restlessly on her strap as the vibrator bumps your wet clit.

and there it is, the sudden white spots clouding your vision as come hard on her strap. you reach for her hand to turn of the vibrator, scared of overstimulating yourself after coming for the first time in such a long time.

too blissed out from the feeling, your head falls onto her shoulder and she presses a soft kiss on on your neck.

"you did great, beautiful," she tells you and you feel her warm breath against your damp skin.

your mask shifts and the realisation hits you.

you slip it back into its place, slip off her strap with a wince and stumble back onto the stool, trying to compose yourself.

Sevika detaches the strap and there you see the bionic arm for the first time. it looked heavy with its several mechanics surrounding it, but then you notice the shimmer going through it like veins. fuck, did you almost get fucked with fucking shimmer inside of it?

she stands up and rearranges her clothing, seeming to take a leave as she hands you a stack of cash from her pouch.

"what about you?" you ask confused. she says nothing but presses the cash into your hand.

"madam won't allow me to take it," you say, looking up at her from the cash in your hands.

her hand softly cups your cheek and strokes your cheekbone with her thumb. "invest it in your shop, beautiful."

stunned by her comment, you sit there completely moveless.

she presses the doorknob as she is about to leave, but she stops mid-tracks before finally leaving the room.

"good to see you again."

masterlist ; pt. 2

[nadvs]

sleeping with the enemy ✮ au

pairing basketballplayer! rafe cameron x cheerleader! female reader

summary after getting dumped by the captain of the basketball team you cheer for, you find revenge in the form of rafe cameron, your ex-boyfriend’s worst enemy. based on this one-shot

rating explicit 18+

tropes both afraid of commitment, college rivalry, friends with benefits to best friends to lovers, everybody sees it, he falls first

timeline when they meet, she’s a junior and he’s a senior at rival colleges. they’re friends with benefits for three months before they start dating. they’re together for five months, then he gets signed with the nba and moves away. they stay together long-distance and she moves in with him a year and a half later. she gets pregnant six months after moving in, when they’ve been together for a little over two years. they get married four years later.

legend ⊗ smut / ❥ fluff / × angst

˚　꩜ ︴friends with benefits 　 ︵　🏀

✮ ࿐ they meet and hook-up ⊗

✮ ࿐ rafe texts her after they meet ❥

✮ ࿐ her ex sees them together ❥

✮ ࿐she learns about his past ❥

✮ ࿐ she hears people talking badly about her ×

✮ ࿐ he takes her out to dinner ❥

✮ ࿐ he fights to defend her ×

✮ ࿐ she rides his thigh ⊗

✮ ࿐ she keeps his shirt ×

✮ ࿐ they hook up in the library ⊗

✮ ࿐ his first time getting jealous ×

✮ ࿐ their favorite position ⊗

✮ ࿐ she cleans him up after a fight ❥ ×

✮ ࿐ a new player on his team hits on her × ⊗

✮ ࿐ he takes care of her when she’s drunk ❥ ×

✮ ࿐ he accidentally calls her his girlfriend ❥ ×

✮ ࿐ they become official ❥ ×

˚　꩜ ︴in a relationship 　 ︵　🏀

college days

✮ ࿐ he tells his friends they’re dating ❥

✮ ࿐ their first time having sex as a couple ⊗ ❥

✮ ࿐ people see the marks she left on him ❥

✮ ࿐ they compete ⊗

✮ ࿐ he does a body shot off of her ⊗ ❥

✮ ࿐ their first fight as a couple ❥ ×

✮ ࿐ he helps her when she’s stressed about school ❥

✮ ࿐ he consoles her after she fails a midterm ❥

✮ ࿐ they meet each other’s families ❥

✮ ࿐ they fight before he leaves ×

long distance

✮ ࿐ their roughest patch ×

✮ ࿐ he has a photo of her in his locker ❥ ×

✮ ࿐ her first night visiting him ⊗ ❥ ×

✮ ࿐ their first ‘i love you’s’ ❥

✮ ࿐ they almost break up ×

✮ ࿐ he misses her after she visits ❥

✮ ࿐ her ex hits on her ❥

✮ ࿐ she gets jealous ❥ ×

✮ ࿐ she drunk calls him ❥

after she moves in with him

✮ ࿐ he supports her career ❥

✮ ࿐ she tells him she’s pregnant ❥ ×

✮ ࿐ the public finds out she’s pregnant ×

✮ ࿐ he supports her through her pregnancy ❥ ×

✮ ࿐ he gets his first tattoo ❥

✮ ࿐ she gives birth ❥ ×

✮ ࿐ they announce the birth ❥

✮ ࿐ he sets up the nursery ❥

✮ ࿐ paparazzi find them at the hospital ❥

✮ ࿐ they struggle being new parents ×

✮ ࿐ rafe snaps at paparazzi following them ×

✮ ࿐ they deal with rumors that he’s cheating ×

✮ ࿐ a clip of her feeds the rumors ×

✮ ࿐ she sits courtside with their babies ❥

✮ ࿐ he’s away from the babies for too long ×

✮ ࿐ they’re overprotective parents ❥

✮ ࿐ rafe as a dad ❥

✮ ࿐ rafe does his babies’ hair ❥

✮ ࿐ their first night away after becoming parents ⊗ ❥

✮ ࿐ they hook up at a wedding ⊗ ❥

✮ ࿐ his daughter attends a conference with him ❥

✮ ࿐ rafe has a rough day with the kids ❥

✮ ࿐ their daughter loves attention ❥

✮ ࿐ he’s afraid to propose ×

˚　꩜ ︴married 　 ︵　🏀

✮ ࿐ they have a problem on their wedding day ❥ ×

✮ ࿐ she gets possessive of him ❥

✮ ࿐ rafe tells their son’s friend to stop looking at her ❥

✮ ࿐ he’s overprotective of their daughter ❥

✮ ࿐ what they fight about as parents ×

[itoshiexx]

when you call them "husband"

how the blue lock boyfriends react when you call them "husband".

pairings: itoshi sae, shidou ryusei, isagi yoichi x fem!reader (no descriptions tho, just the words "mrs." and "wifey") (separate) | warnings: established relationship, fluff, kissing, the boys are simps, shidou is a warning itself

notes: hi guys! another one of these scenarios since you guys seemed to like the other one so much <3 thank you for all your love and support! also it's my first time writing for shidou so i hope this isn't absolute garbage.

ITOSHI SAE

one of your and sae’s favorite couple activities was driving around the city. you loved the feeling of madrid’s summer breeze kissing your face and messing up your hair, and sae… well, he would never admit that, but sae loved anything that made you happy, even if it meant driving with no clear destination in mind until his feet hurt. so it was no wonder you convinced him to do just that on that afternoon.

after half an hour of wandering around town on a porsche, you decided that some starbucks would do both of you well. your little pleading eyes quickly convinced sae to stop by one, letting you order since the intercom was on your side.

“welcome to starbucks, what can i get for you today?” the man’s voice came out of the intercom, the spanish accent still making it a bit difficult for sae to fully comprehend, despite living in madrid for years now. 

“hi! i’d like a caramel frappuccino and a chocolate muffin, please.”

“anything else?”

you turned to him, asking in a whisper, “what do you want, baby?”

“just an iced matcha tea latte.” he shrugged. you smiled, and sae had to fight the urge to smile too. it was maddening, really — how much of an effect you had on him with something as simple as a turn of lips.

he watched as you turned back to the intercom, “and my husband wants an iced matcha tea latte. that would be all, thank you.”

distracted, sae started to take his foot off the brake to go to the payment booth, but suddenly his body froze. he furrowed his eyebrows, confusion etched on his teal eyes.

wait. 

fucking wait. 

sae didn’t register what the guy on the intercom said next, much less what you answered. he didn’t even notice the line of cars behind him and the need to move forward. all that mattered was that one word that fell from your mouth seconds prior.

“what did you call me?” he asked, silently afraid that it was all a trick from his mind fed on his deepest wishes. 

it was only then you seemed to realize what you said. “o-oh, i… i’m sorry, it just— it just came out…” you squeaked, bashful. fuck, you were so pretty like that, with your cheeks rosy while averting his gaze. 

sae smirked, pinching your chin so that you would look at him. he kissed you with a sweetness that wasn’t usually present in his bitter mouth, and you melted at his gentleness. 

“don’t apologize,” he said as he broke the kiss. “i liked that, mrs. itoshi.”

it seemed like it was finally time for that velvet box on the bottom of his drawer.

SHIDOU RYUSEI

peace. peace was all you wished for — at least a little bit. five minutes on the phone to schedule an appointment was not asking for much, was it?

apparently, for shidou, it was.

you were well aware your boyfriend was selfish, and that was an universal rule when it came to your attention. considering he spent a lot of time away for games overseas, you couldn’t blame him for wanting some time alone, since you wanted it too. 

however, you really needed to schedule your doctor’s appointment, and your whiny boyfriend was making this task extremely difficult. every time you started talking to the lady on the other side of the phone, ryusei would butt in with very unnecessary comments that made your eyes roll. you apologized profusely to the woman about a hundred times, and she assured you it was okay. she even said it was sweet. 

if you weren’t so annoyed, you would have thought it was sweet, too. ryusei was never one to shy away from expressing his love, even if it meant embarrassing you and himself in the process (although he was completely shameless, so it made no difference).

“will anyone pick you up after your exam, ma’m?”

you could faintly hear what the woman was saying, since shidou was babbling nonsense in your ear as if you weren’t on a phone call. it made you sigh, and you rubbed the bridge of your nose.

“yes, my husband will pick me up.”

and then, silence. 

it took you a minute to realize that the outside noise disappeared and ryusei had completely stopped talking. you blinked a couple times, confused, and turned your head to look at your boyfriend sitting on the couch. to your surprise, he was blushing and gaping like a fish, in what seemed to be utter disbelief.

you braced yourself for what was about to come. 

“HUSBAND?!”

ah, there it is. his scream pierced through the living room, and you were certain even the other side of the country heard it. 

“thank you for everything, ma’m. i should be going now,” you told the receptionist. she only giggled and wished you a good day. 

the second you put your phone down, ryusei’s arms were around your middle, lifting you up and twirling you around like some cliche romance movie. your prior annoyance melted away in a second, and you could only giggle like a schoolgirl in love. 

“awww, ya wanna be my wifey?” he cooed, putting you down without letting you go. his nose touched yours and you blushed with the intensity of his stare. 

though you wouldn’t back down. 

“of course i do, ryu.” you smiled sweetly. your boyfriend stared at you, shocked and bashful for the second time in the span of five minutes, and then groaned when broken from his stupor. 

what a little devil, he thought. 

and then he kissed you, intense and dominating like only ryusei knew how to be, prodding his tongue in your mouth when you gasped and savoring every corner of your mouth. it was one of those kisses that swept you off your feet and left you dizzy, and he could tell from the hazy look in your eyes when he finally backed away.

“fuck, i love you so much. you ‘gon be my wifey, baby, i promise ya.”

ISAGI YOICHI

you were usually the one to accompany yoichi to parties — mostly galas thrown by sponsors who wanted to secure a deal with some sports hotshot —, so, for him, it was a breath of fresh air to be your plus one on the holiday party of the company you worked for. 

since the company in question was a corporation, it was no wonder the decoration was flawless, with lots of gold and red to represent the christmas that would soon arrive. the soundtrack was mainly composed of classical music, and he smiled watching you enjoying a vivaldi song. it reminded him of the early days of your relationship, where you teached him about your favorite classic musicians such as beethoven, mozart, ludovico einaudi and chopin.

your arms were linked as you wandered around the hall, and, non surprisingly, everyone seemed to want to talk to you. of course they would; you were the sweetest, kindest and smartest soul to walk on this earth. isagi couldn’t be more proud of all the recognition you were getting, because you deserved more than anyone he knew. 

“are you having fun, baby?” you suddenly asked. the striker finally noticed he had been staring at you for a while as you drank a glass of champagne. he blushed, but nodded. 

“how could i not? i’m with you.”

a giggle left your lips along with a fond roll of your eyes, and yoichi couldn’t help but think that, if he could listen to a single sound forever, he would choose your laugh in a heartbeat. 

“you’re so silly, yoichi,” you playfully chastised him, but stepped forward to give a kiss to his cheek. he smiled, circling your waist with one arm and pulling so that your bodies were glued.

“what can i say, you make me silly, sweetheart.”

“isn’t that what love is supposed to do?” a third voice suddenly spoke, slightly startling the both of you and breaking you from your little bubble. 

you put down your glass on a waiter’s tray, smiling at the man that arrived. “mr. tanaka! what a pleasure it is to see you here.”

“of course! i wouldn’t miss such a party!” he exclaimed, laughing a little loud for the etiquette of that kind of gala, but no one seemed to mind. 

“and who is this?” he asked, pointing to isagi. 

“this is my husband, isagi yoichi. he came today to support me.”

with such simple words, yoichi’s mind went silent. 

he could faintly discern the man saying something about being a soccer enthusiast and a bastard munchen’s fan — mostly from reading his lips, since his ears were buzzing —, but honestly, he couldn’t care less. isagi’s heart was beating so pathetically fast that if he weren’t an athlete, he was pretty sure he would faint right there. 

husband. you called him your husband. 

did that mean you wanted to marry him? he’s been wanting to propose for a while. you have been dating for five years, after all, and yoichi was sure there was no one else in this world he’d rather spend the rest of his life with. did you only say that because you already lived together? or did you actually want a wedding ceremony with all your friends and family, signing the paper that would bound you for good? until death do us part, he remembered. though yoichi would love you even after dying—

“dear?” you called him, worry in your tone. it’s only then he realized he got lost in his thoughts, and both you and mr. tanaka were staring at him.

“oh, sorry. it’s really nice to meet you, sir.” he shook the man’s hand, engaging in conversation.

while you watched them, you smiled coyly, hoping isagi took the hint.

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

if you like my writing and would like to support me, you can 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ! any amount is welcomed and very appreciated! ♥

[sceletaflores]

where there’s sparks, there’s fire!

pairing: patrick zweig x fem!reader

summary: you can’t tell if patrick hates you as much as you hate him. every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. but he’s only doing all that to piss you off. you think back to tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. you don’t see it. patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special.

—or: patrick zweig is a slut. you can't stand him.

word count: 4.6k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y’all!), public sex (doing it in a coat closet lmao), more hate sex, swearing, fighting as foreplay, light choking, light hair pulling, degradation, even more hints of mean!reader cause i really do live for that shit, tashi and reader are cute besties always, porn with a little plot, no use of y/n.

author’s note: i originally wanted to post a tashi fic next but i realized i don't have any like actual full on plot filled patrick works lmao i felt bad neglecting him and my patrick girlies so yeah. once again had literally so much fun writing this, like i hardcore love this niche!!! i ride so hard for it!!! the tashi fic i'm working on also falls into this category lols and yes this is fourth of july themed and it's late shut up i cannot write fast for the life of me...anyway! to the anons who requested something like this, hope you love it! okay bye mwah xoxo.

Patrick Zweig is a huge slut.

Everyone knows that. He doesn't even go to Stanford but he's still somehow managed to sleep with a third of the girls on campus, maybe even more than a few guys too if the rumors going around are true.

You hate him. Hate isn't even a strong enough word. You loathe him. You despise him. You detest him. Pick any other fancy synonym, the point still stands. You just really fucking hate him.

It blows your mind that someone as sweet and angelic as Art would be best friends with someone like him. Someone who's so obnoxious, so arrogant, so crass. Art’s the guy that goes out of his way to protect you from the gross frat bros at parties, only to bring his very own as a plus one.

Sigma Nu throws a rager every year on the fourth, extending invites to those who are still in Stanford for the summer. The women’s tennis team is always invited, and Tashi always ends up convincing you to go. Well, she’s less convincing than she is more forcing you, but it’s basically the same thing to her anyway. She did your makeup and wrestled you into a Hollister dress, vowing to get you laid as she straightened your hair.

Tashi’s almost more invested in your sex life than you are, constantly hand-picking guys on campus for your consideration. She actually offered up Patrick once when you told her you wouldn’t fuck any of the guys on campus at all. The two of you were practicing, she suggested it as casual as ever while returning your serve. You were so shocked you stopped in your tracks, letting the ball fly right past you. She assured you she wouldn’t mind if you did, that what the two of them had was quote “Nothing serious, he’s just a really good fuck.” and that you should “Totally do it. He definitely wants to fuck you, I can tell.” 

You just brushed her off, ignored the way she smirked knowingly at you over the net. Your cheeks burned as you served again, you wrote it off as annoyance. As if you would ever let Patrick Zweig fuck you.

You lost Tashi when she took off to the bathroom, texting you that she’d be a while thanks to a long line outside the door. You were leaning against a wall nursing a half-empty cup of jungle juice when he came up to you. You can’t remember his name, you think it starts with a B. Something like Brandon? Or maybe Brian? One or the other.

He’s Sigma Nu’s secretary, you sit three seats down from him in your economics lecture. Tashi says he has a crush on you, and he’s nice for a frat guy but he’s definitely not your type. He’s been droning on about his upcoming trip to his family's summer house in Cabo for almost ten minutes. You try your best to seem interested, humming and nodding every couple seconds. You’re in the middle of tuning him out when a loud, familiar voice calls out your name. 

“There you are!” Patrick Zweig shouts from a few feet away, ugly American flag patterned flip flops smacking against the ground as he makes his way over to you. He’s wearing a bright red button down and white cargo shorts you scrunch your nose up at. He’s tanner than the last time you saw him, legs long and even more toned. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that pretty face.” He coos sweetly, his hand that isn't holding a bottle of Bud Light comes up to pinch your cheek.

You scoff, smacking his hand off your face. “You found me, so you can go bother someone else now,” you say, rubbing your cheek lightly. “Bye.” You press, waving your hand dismissively when he makes no move to walk away.

Patrick grins, unfazed by your reaction, he steps in even closer. “Yeah, I missed you too,” he says breezily, his breath smells like cheap beer and camel blues. He’s just as tall as you remember. He has tacky blue shutter shades resting on the top of his head. His eyes rake over your body shamelessly, lingering on the low dip of your neckline. “Cute dress.” 

You ignore him, rolling your eyes before turning your attention back towards Brandon/Brian. He’s silent now, eyes flicking between you and Patrick skeptically. “Are you like, together, or something?” 

You laugh loudly, quickly shaking your head ‘No’. Patrick beats you to speaking though, “God no, man.” he says through a laugh, dark curls bouncing as he shakes his head. “I came over here to warn you.” He continues, voice and expression going overly serious like he’s not talking out of his ass.

Brandon/Brian’s brows furrow, clearly confused. “Warn me?” he asks, head tilting to the left slightly. His puka shell necklace makes a small clicking sound as he moves. 

Patrick nods his head gravely, clapping his free hand down on Brandon/Brian's shoulder a little too roughly to be considered friendly, shaking him back and forth like a rag doll. “Yeah, best of luck trying to get inside that snatch, man.” he says earnestly, jerking his head in your direction. “Cause’ she’s really fucking picky–”

You whip your head in his direction to cut him off, grimacing in disgust. “You would say snatch, you sick fuck.” you snap, red solo cup crunching quietly in your hand. Patrick just laughs, dropping his hand from Brandon/Brian’s shoulder. Anger stews inside you the longer he looks at you with that stupid shit-eating smirk on his face. 

You can’t tell if Patrick hates you as much as you hate him. Every time you see him he’s constantly talking to you, touching you, trailing behind you. But he’s only doing all that to piss you off. You think back to Tashi telling you it’s obvious that he wants to fuck you. You don’t see it.

Patrick wants to fuck everyone, you’re not special. Sure, he may feel the constant need to be a horn-dog when he’s around you. That doesn’t mean anything. Patrick’s just gross, constantly making crude comments or lame innuendos. What Tashi fails to see is him making sex jokes around you is just another way he can piss you off. It’s not an open invitation into those god-awful shorts. 

Patrick takes a small step back, big hands raising in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Put the claws away,” You try to ignore the way him saying your name in that goddamn infuriating condescending tone makes your cheeks start heating up. Patrick leans his shoulder on the wall next to you, looking down at you with a small grin on his face. “I actually wanted to congratulate you on cracking the top twenty.” He takes a long sip of his beer, head lolling to the side lazily as he swallows. “Lucky number 14.”

You’re not too proud to admit that Patrick is kind of hot, especially in this lighting. He’s objectively a hot guy, and he knows it. All tall and firm looking even in his horrendous outfit. But he’s kind of cute too, in an ass-holey way. His hair's a mess of soft-looking black curls and his ears stick out from his head sort of endearingly. He’s close enough that you can see he’s got a little brown in his eyes, and long lashes. There’s a handful of freckles sprinkled over the bridge of his nose. 

His big, strong nose that looks like it could work wonders between your legs. Or at least that’s what you’ve heard from Jen in your chem lab. Maybe this jungle juice is stronger than you thought.

Patrick's smirk widens, wolfish and dirty like he can see what you’re thinking. “That’s pretty impressive.” he continues, his tone a mix of genuine admiration and teasing. "Especially for someone who's always so...busy." He lets the last word hang in the air, a clear innuendo that makes your blood boil all over again.

"Busy training," you snap back, not willing to let him get under your skin any more than he already has. "Some of us have actual work ethic, Patrick. We put in the hours on the court instead of fucking anything that breathes, you know? So we don’t look like idiots that get their ass handed to them on tour by nobody scrubs."

You can feel the heat start to simmer in your stomach, anger and frustration bubbling beneath the surface as Patrick's presence continues to grate on your nerves. The tension between you is thick, amplified by the chaotic energy of the party swirling around you. You see Brandon/Brian take a long, awkward sip of his beer as he steps away, turning on his heel to quickly disappear into the sea of bodies crowding the living room. You roll your eyes internally, pussy.

Patrick grins, not deterred in the slightest. “You’ve been keeping up with my matches?” His voice is low and pleased sounding, shiny green eyes slowly getting swallowed by the black of his pupils. 

You pause, owlishly blinking up at him in silence. You’ve been caught. Shit.

You can feel the immediate warmth of embarrassment burning hot on your cheeks as you cast your gaze to the floor. “Only when I need to cheer myself up, a losing streak that high is actually laughable.” You mutter to the floor, lightly swirling your drink in your cup. 

Patrick laughs loudly, throwing his head back in amusement. “Still thinking about me though.” he says matter-of-factly, a lazy grin taking over his face.

His audacity sends another wave of anger and embarrassment through you, your grip tightens around your cup. "Only because you make such a spectacle of yourself," you retort sharply. "It's hard not to notice when you're crashing and burning so publicly."

Patrick's grin doesn't falter. If anything, it widens. "I'll take what I can get from you," he says, his tone a blend of amusement and something else that you can't place. "But seriously, congratulations. You deserve it."

His unexpected sincerity throws you off, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. It's rare to see Patrick in a light that isn’t coated in sarcasm or sleaze. You catch a glimpse of something genuine in his expression, something that almost resembles respect, and it confuses you.

It confuses you, and it makes something warm start to burn in your stomach. You can’t afford to feel any warm, fuzzy feelings around a guy like Patrick, not if you don’t want to get majorly fucked over the second he gets bored of you. 

You don’t know how to react so you do what makes sense, you lash out.

“God, will you just fuck off and leave me alone Patrick,” you say, tone over-dramatic and long-suffering as you tip your head up to the ceiling in annoyance. “I’m trying to have fun.” A lie. The party kind of sucked compared to last years. You were planning on talking Tashi into leaving when she came back, but he didn’t need to know that.

Patrick’s cool exterior finally cracks, letting out a quiet huff of disbelief as a frown starts tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Jesus Christ, what the hell is your fucking problem? I’m being sincere.” The playful light in his eyes is gone, replaced by something darker.

You let out a loud laugh, shaking your head in amusement. “Maybe I’d believe that if you weren’t such an ass. I know you too well, Patrick.” You say, tone mean and condescending. You know he’s right, on some level, but that doesn’t stop you. 

Patrick is silent for a beat, eyes boring into yours with an intensity that makes you want to start squirming. He lets out a quiet, bitter laugh, bringing his beer up to his lips to take a long sip. You watch the way his throat moves as he swallows, the way his lips look wrapped around the neck of the bottle. You feel a familiar heat start to pool between your legs, thighs clenching involuntarily as your mind envisions something else his slick, pink lips would look good wrapped around. 

He drops the bottle to his side, finally breaking the silence. “You know, now I do believe you.” he says casually, swiping his tongue over his lips lazily. “You must really not be getting any dick acting like this much of an uptight bitch.”

You reel back in shock, his words hitting you like a punch in the gut. The wave of fury that sweeps through you is almost tangible, your vision narrowing to a tunnel that begins and ends with Patrick’s infuriatingly smug face. “What did you just say?” you ask completely taken aback, voice low and rough. Your hand twitches at your side with the need to throw your drink in his face, anger and embarrassment lapping white hot flames in your stomach. 

Patrick just scoffs, heated gaze not breaking from your own. “You heard me.” He says, jaw set stubbornly. “You need like, emergency dick, or something to chill the fuck out for once.” 

You feel your heart rate spike, your free hand clenching into a tight wrist by your side. “You’re a fucking pig.” your voice shakes with anger, you feel sweaty and hot all over. The heat swirling between your legs is persistent.

Patrick laughs, a loud and infuriating sound. “Come on, we both know you’re fucking begging for someone to give you what you need.” He says like it’s obvious, you clench your fist a little tighter. He takes a step closer, voice dropping down to a whisper meant just for you. “I can help you with that. I can fuck all that bratty shit right out of yo–”

You’re reacting before you can stop yourself, hand flying up to slap him hard across the face. The loud crack pierces through the room, loud enough that a few eyes turn in your direction. Patrick's head snaps to the side, the shades resting on the top of his head fly off. 

Your heart stops, hands shaking with the realization of what you just did. You expect Patrick to flip out, start shouting and threatening to sue you or whatever else it is that rich people do. Time seems to slow down as he turns his head, and when he looks back at you, there's no trace of anger in his eyes. Instead, they're dark with something else entirely— something that makes your stomach flip.

He licks his lips, a slow, deliberate motion, and then he laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends shivers down your spine. A clear hand print grows steadily, red and angry on his cheek. "Fuck." he breathes, his hazy eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. 

You’re stuck staring at each other for what feels like hours, the music and chatter from the party reduced down to a low hum as you’re caught under Patrick’s heavy gaze.

He drops his beer bottle on the floor carelessly, hand shooting out to grab your wrist tightly and drag you away from the living room. Your cup falls from your grip, splashing down onto the hardwood in a red sticky mess. You fall into step behind him, letting him guide you into the hallway outside the living room before he lurches to a stop in front of a closed door, ripping it open and shoving you inside. Patrick follows quickly, closing the door behind him and bathing the coat closet in darkness. 

It’s a tiny closet, you’re pressed up against too many coats fighting for space on the tiny rack, kicking loose shoes around as you try to find your footing. “Patrick, I–” You start, but you're cut off by a strong hand gripping your forearm and whipping you around. Your back hits the door with a dull thud, you don’t have any time to react before his lips are on yours.

The kiss is the opposite of gentle, Patrick’s lips are almost violent as they move with yours. Your hands tangle in his soft hair, kissing back just as roughly. He hisses into your mouth as you twist the strands in your grip meanly, pressing you into the door harder. His tongue forces its way past your parted lips, claiming your mouth fiercely. He tastes like beer, his fingertips are rough and calloused on your skin, pulling you closer as if he wants to meld into you.

“If you don’t want this, say the word and I’ll stop right now.” He says against your lips, breathless and rumbly. His hands squeeze your hips reassuringly, his own version of sincerity softening the moment.

Yeah fucking right.

“Zweig,” you say slowly, yanking his hair roughly. “If you don’t shut up and fuck me in the next ten seconds, I’ll kill you.”

Patrick grins wildly, surging forward to connect your lips again. Your hands find the buttons of his shirt as the two of you kiss, working them open one by one until you get too frustrated and rip the two half-open sides apart. Buttons clatter onto the floor of the closet, Patrick groans into your mouth, breaking the kiss with a huff. “I liked that shirt, dick. You owe me twenty bucks.”

You’re not listening, eyes trained on the bare skin of his chest as everything seems to slow down for a second. Of course, you’ve seen Patrick shirtless before, when he’s on the court and it’s above ninety or when he’s taking up space in Art’s dorm. This feels different, a completely new situation where it’s actually okay for you to stare at the expanse of his torso. 

You can’t help reaching out to touch him again— running your greedy hands down his chest, his abs, the sharp ‘v’ cut of his hips that makes its way into the waistband of his shorts. Your manicured nails scratch through the dark hair of his happy trail, you can see the muscles in his stomach jump.

“Fuck,” you whisper breathlessly and immediately regret it. He was already insufferable— all you fucking needed was for him to know how you felt right now. How the sight of his barely undressed body is making your pussy soak through your panties.

Patrick doesn’t even gloat, just uses his tight grip on your hips to flip you so you’re pressing onto the door harshly. He impatiently yanks the skirt of your dress up, wasting no time in hooking a finger on the lace of your panties and moving the fabric to the side for easier access.

You hear him pop the button of his shorts open, his zipper following close behind. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He says, sliding the thick tip of his cock through your slick lips, brushing himself against your entrance teasingly. “I’m gonna make you think twice about bitching me out ever again.” He seals his promise by grabbing your hair and yanking, causing a surprised whine to fall from your lips. His voice is so patronizing, but you aren’t getting mad like you should be. You’re just getting wetter, getting desperate with the need for him to get inside you right fucking now.

You grit your teeth in frustration, exhaling sharply through your nose. “I hate you.” You hiss, grinding back against his hard cock. You gasp raggedly as he starts to sink himself inside you, not stopping until his hips are flush against your ass. “Shit!” Your hands grip the door so hard you’re scared one of your nails will break. The stretch of him burns in the best way possible. You’d never say it out loud, not wanting to inflate his ego anymore than you probably already have, but he’s definitely the biggest cock you’ve taken. Almost porn-star big.

“I know.” He replies easily, hiking your thigh up with his hand as his hips start to pound mercilessly into the meat of your ass, not even giving you time to get used to the thick stretch of him. The loud smack of skin on skin fills the tiny closet easily, you hope to God the amount of clothes shoved in here somehow muffles the sound. The rough denim of his shorts scratches against your raw skin, adding to the sting of his hips.

Patrick was pounding into you in a way that makes you feel every inch of him. His cock felt impossibly big, filling you up like he was carving a place for himself inside of you. The sting in your pussy at the stretch of him is mind-numbing, you think you’d collapse from how hard your thighs were shaking if he wasn’t practically holding you up.

His big hand grips the sensitive skin of your inner thigh hard enough that it’ll probably be bruised by tomorrow. You distantly hope he’s high up enough that your tennis skirt will cover it, because if not it’ll be a hard thing to talk your way out of.

You throw your head back, a strained moan erupting from your lips. Your nails scratch at the paint on the door's edges, raking small lines down the wall. The loud squelch of your pussy’s overflowing wetness every time he sinks back inside you would be embarrassing if you had the mental capacity to care.

“Fuck yeah, keep making those slutty sounds, baby. Want the whole fucking party to hear how good I’m making you feel on this cock,” he mutters, hiking your leg up higher so he can pound into you deeper.

He drops your thigh, sliding his hand up your body and around your throat. You whine loudly, pushing back into his thrusts harder. Guys have tried the choking thing in the past, but Patrick’s hand is the only one that’s felt right. His long fingers curling around your throat like they belong there.

“Shit, fuck- don’t stop.” you mewl, lips parted in ecstasy. His hand squeezes a little tighter, not enough to cut off your breathing, just enough to get your eyes rolling back into your head as your pussy weeps around the thick length of his cock.

“That’s it, taking my fucking cock like you were made for it,” Patrick grates through a groan, gripping your hips and pulling out from your tight hole to spit on where his cock bumps up against your entrance before plunging back in.  You jolt at the extra wetness, whining at how dirty it is. “So fucking tight— does it hurt, baby?” he asks in a barely breathless voice, laughter edging his tone. “Is my fat cock hurting your tight little pussy?”

“God– shit, yes!” you sob loudly, cheek rubbing against the wood of the door as you nod your head frantically. “Hurts so fucking good.” You stop caring about inflating his ego, letting moans fall freely from your lips as you get closer to the edge.

“Fuck yeah, I’m gonna come,” he grunts, his rhythm growing sloppy and erratic as his muscles tense. He wraps your hair in his other hand, pulling hard enough to make your neck crane back awkwardly. He leans forward, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I can feel you, fucking clenching up on me so tight,” he whispers, still pounding into you roughly. “I know you’re close. Do it. Come all over my cock like a slut.”

Patrick's hand tightens around your throat as he talks, cutting off your air for just a second. “Patrick!” Your voice sounds weak and strained, your hand coming up to wrap around his wrist desperately.

He pulls out abruptly, dropping your hair from his fist to frantically jerk his cock, burying his face in your neck. You can hear the lewd shlick shlick shlick of your wetness help his hand glide over the skin of his cock quickly. Patrick lets out a loud growl before you feel the sharp bite of his teeth sinking in where your shoulder meets your neck, muffling a loud groan of your name as he sprays hot come over the skin of your lower back and the swell of your ass. 

The feeling of Patrick’s hand wrapped around your throat as his come paints your skin has you catapulting over the edge. Eyes rolling back in your head as your convulsing pussy gushes wet over his spent cock. 

You drag in greedy lungfuls of air, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “You came first.” You say breathlessly, voice scratchy and hushed. Patrick chuckles against your skin, swatting the tender flesh of your ass lightly. 

“Shut the fuck up.” He mutters half-heartedly, nuzzling his nose in your neck in a way that seems far too intimate for what the two of you just did. You don’t say anything.

Patrick eventually peels himself off your back, but the warmth of his body stays wrapped around you as he starts to gently wipe your skin clean. You’re ready to scold him for using some poor guy's coat as a come-rag, but when you turn your head to glare at him he’s using the inside of his own shirt. You wrinkle your nose, but a tiny smile fights its way onto your lips. So gross, you think with a sort of reluctant fondness.

He leans over to fix your panties back over your puffy, abused pussy. Your thighs continue to shake weakly as you try to stand on your own, still unsteady without Patrick holding you up. He gives you a sweet kiss on the back of your shoulder, smacking his lips loudly. You huff out a tiny laugh, pushing away from the door to face him.

You watch him as he languidly gets re-dressed. He looks well-fucked, his hair and clothes are mess, his face is flushed and sweaty. Your eyes trail down to where he’s buttoning up his atrocious shorts. 

The fabric around the crotch is darkened with your release, wetness soaking the denim around the zipper and front pockets. You gawk at it, a mix of terror and excitement swirling through your stomach. “You can’t go back out like that.” you say to his shorts, shame burning your cheeks. 

Patrick follows your gaze down to his crotch. A pleased smirk plays on his lips when he looks back at you. “I’ll text you later.” Is all he says, zipping his fly and turning towards the door. 

“You don’t have my number.” You say, tugging the skirt of your dress down over your hips. You can slowly feel the horny fog leave your brain, leaving you clear-minded and a little panicked.

He cracks the door open, but before walking out of the closet he looks back at you over his shoulder. “Art’ll give me your number. “ He says casually with a small shrug of his shoulder. You suddenly feel sick, wondering how many other people have heard that line before getting completely ghosted. 

Patrick must see the negative thoughts running through your mind play out on your face. He gives you an actual smile, one that has his eyes crinkling up the tiniest bit at the corners. “Promise.” He says with a reassuring nod, it’s the most sincere you’ve ever seen him. You bite your lip to stop from smiling at the hope blooming in your stomach, nodding back at him slowly. He throws you one last toothy grin before he’s walking out and closing the door behind him.

You sigh contently, staring at the closed door for a few beats before your phone buzzes to life from where it's laying on the floor. You bend over to search for it, blindly rooting around until you see the tiny display light. The ringing stops before you can answer, when you flip the screen up to check your inbox you have seven missed texts and two missed calls.

Four texts and two calls from Art, and just three texts from Tashi.

arty where are you? i’ve been looking for you are you okay? hello???

tash you know you're not invisible right? everyone saw your little show have fun <3

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

mini a/n: yes i did change the title leave me lmao love you!

[iniquitousyearning]

enemies w/ tension. | slytherin boy headcanons

author's note: feralism inside. readers be advised. eighteen plus.

- your enemies reaction to you bending over in front of them.

Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy, as your enemy, was an absolute arsehat.

He’d purposely go out of his way to make your life a living hell whenever he bloody could.

The teasing and pranking was relentless; from accidentally spilling a particular shimmering potion on your white uniform blouse, rendering it perfectly see-through and exposing your bra to everyone in potions class, to pulling out your seat when you weren’t looking; he’d done it all.

He was an absolute menace, but you also knew there was something more to it than that, something possessive, something obsessive.

And you thought this for a multitude of reasons, but the main one being that he admitted he was into you while drunk at a common room party. which of course he denied the next day, and every other day since, choosing instead to be as annoying as ever.

but on this particular late evening, assigned as partners for a class project, you found yourselves alone together; the tension high and the banter relentless.

“Draco, please stop acting like a bloody child for five seconds.”

He’d roll his eyes, fighting a smirk. “Pleading for mercy are you? How adorable.”

You’d huff, staring at him with your arms crossed out of frustration as he held your quill above his head, just out of your reach.

“No, I’m pleading for you to stop being so goddamn insufferable. Give me my quill.” You’d hiss, entirely irritated.

Of course he’d just laugh, wetting his lips as he analyzed your frustration, revelling in the fact he’s so clearly gotten you going.

“Here.” He’d sneer, all before tossing it half-way across the room. “Go fetch.”

by this point, your blood was boiling, but you wouldn’t miss the glint in his eyes, the one that told you he was enjoying this a little more than he should be.

With a frustrated sigh, you pivoted sharply, seizing the perfect opportunity. As you closed in on your quill, a deliberate hair flip cascaded over your shoulder. Slow and sensuous, you bent at the hips, hands trailing down your sides, tracing the subtle sway of your body reaching for the quill. Picking it up achingly slow, on the ascent, you locked eyes with Draco over your shoulder, a sly smirk playing on your lips.

Draco’s typically poised demeanor faltered as he watched, an involuntary pause freezing his features. His steely gaze, usually cloaked in arrogance, softened into a momentary bewilderment.

The realization hit him like a revelation, and before you could even process it, he was up and out of his seat, one hand gripping the back of your head as he loomed over you.

“What the fuck was that?” His voice was torn, shredded. “Quite the fucking tease, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You blinked, grinning. “I simply picked up my quill.”

His grip on the back of your head tightened, his pupils blown wide with lust. All his restraint was gone.

“You’re a fucking filthy little thing “ he leaned in closer, wetting his lips as he glimpsed yours. “Do that again and I’ll fuck you right here, right over this desk.”

Blaise Zabini.

Blaise fucking Zabini. Your enemy? You guessed you could call him that.

Mainly because all the guy ever did was sabotage your bloody love life. Every single damn chance he got.

And not even in a traditional asshole type of way, like by scaring dudes off or threatening their livelihoods--oh, no.

he scared them off by just being himself.

You’d known Blaise since first year, being that the two of you are from the same house and share the same friend group,

but, all the two of you have ever done, since day bloody one, was banter and bicker like a pair of fucking first years.

But as you matured, that friendly banter slowly transitioned into something more, something that neither of you seemed willing to acknowledge.

Something that you knew was about to boil over, at any given moment. and perhaps, that moment was today.

you sighed in frustration, watching as the guy you’d been talking to all night began to make his way through the crowd, finally taking the hint and excusing himself after Blaise had just ever-so-kindly invited himself into your conversation.

“Why do you have to ruin everything?” You took a sip of your drink, glancing at a smirking Zabini through narrowed lids. “Do you not want me to find love? Do you truly hate me that much?”

“I did you a favour, trust me,” he’d quip, flashing those perfect pearly teeth at you. “Dude would have bored you death.”

“The great Zabini, doing me a favour?” Your eyes widened, and you’d stifle an amused scoff. “Sure you’re feeling okay?”

As Blaise was poised to respond, you fumbled with your wand, inadvertently dropping it onto the wooden floor of the common room. Acting on instinct, you bent down to retrieve it, sensing Blaise's eyes lingering on your backside for an unnecessarily long moment as you slowly straightened up.

And when you finally looked over, you watched as he brought a hand up to his mouth, attempting to hide his grin as he shot you a knowing, wide-eyed glance, his body tensed as though he was fighting to restrain himself.

but after only a few seconds, he’d step closer, his hand grazing your arm as he leaned in.

“Excuse me miss, but I think you’ve made me drop something,” he’d pause, watching your eyes as you met his.

“I’m sorry?” You snorted. “what are you-“

he’d pull you closer, bringing his mouth toward your ear. “you made me drop my fucking jaw…”

you’d blink, caught off guard. “Blaise-“

“That ass is fucking perfect,” he murmured, wetting his lips. “cant hide it anymore, princess…i want you bad.”

Lorenzo Berkshire.

“Enzo-earth to bloody Enzo,” you emitted an audible groan, sinking back down into the chair beside him.. “can you please at least fucking attempt to help me?”

Enzo was uninterested in your pleas, truthfully, he was uninterested in anything you had to say. Paying no heed, he sat slouched, head nestled in his arms on the desk, seemingly oblivious to your presence.

you sighed. this was going to be a long damn class.

“Enzo, please? you can sleep after class-“

He grumbled softly under his breath, neglecting to raise his head from the desk. However, he pivoted it towards you, his bleary brown eyes meeting yours.

“can you knock it off?” his voice was a shredded rasp. it was clear he was exhausted. “don’t you ever get tired of hearing your own voice?”

You scoffed, irritation evident on your face. This was the typical Enzo conversational experience--a constant exchange of snark and jabs. It baffled you how a man so fucking attractive could also be so damn daft at times.

“i don’t, actually,” you huffed, trying to keep your composure. “but i certainly get tired of your ignorant attitude.”

that managed to get at least a chuckle out of him, even if it was a half-assed one.

“spicy today, i see.” his lids fluttered back closed as he muttered, “bite me, darling.”

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you teased, your voice taking on an arrogant tone. “masochist.”

Enzo emitted a snort, a hearty chuckle escaping from his chest in response to your suggestive jab. Progress was evident, and you sensed the need to elevate things to the next level if you intended to secure his assistance.

Making sure his eyes remained closed, you slyly nudged your quill, sending it tumbling off the table and onto the floor. A mischievous smirk played on your lips as it hit the ground, and Enzo's eyes snapped open, fixing on you.

Maintaining the intense eye contact, you slowly leaned over in the chair, letting the seductive sway of your movements accompany your reach for the fallen quill.

you could feel Enzo's gaze following your every movement as you retrieved the quill with a lingering touch--all while a subtle, suggestive smile danced on your lips.

the second you straightened out, Enzo sat up straight, clearing his throat, tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he fought to collect himself.

“what’s the matter, Enz?” you quipped, unable to control yourself. “thought you were tired?”

“don’t play with me, angel.” he muttered, leaning closer. “please, Merlin, don’t fucking play with me.”

you’d snicker. “help me with this assignment and i’ll let you touch it.”

“deal.”

Mattheo Riddle.

you and Mattheo were enemies for one reason, and one reason only--his suffocating arrogance.

perhaps you were the only girl in the school who called him out on his bullshit, perhaps you were the only girl in the school who didn’t fall flat at his feet anytime he simply breathed.

and Mattheo, well, he wasn’t used to this type of treatment. and he certainly wasn’t keen on the fact he couldn’t get you in his bed with a mere second long glance.

of course, you were fully conscious of the fact he was hot as fuck, but your self-respect and dignity outweighed your sexual desires, which in turn, created fiery spats every-time the two of you were near each other.

And so, here you were, paired with him for a research assignment; the two of you alone in the library on a Sunday night, while he was totally hungover. And as insufferable as ever.

“Mattheo, give my fucking textbook back.”

He’d groan, rolling his eyes as he tucked the book under his arm, hugging it to his chest while seated sluggishly.

“Come and get it back, then.” He’d utter, smirking. “I promise I don’t bite…hard.”

You fought back a scoff. “You won’t be able to bite at all if you don’t cut it the fuck out…it’s almost ten o’clock we need to start this.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, again, his tongue piercing the inside of his cheek as he pulled the book out from under his arm, and stood up, moving over to the bookshelf behind your chair.

With suffocating snark, he knelt down, shoving the book onto one of the shelves lowest to the ground, all before turning back around and smirking at you, crossing his arms over his chest and shrugging casually as he cocked an eyebrow.

“You told me to give it back.” The arrogance in his tone was nauseating. “You didn’t specify where.”

“First of all, that’s the wrong shelf,” you’d mutter, watching his eyes follow you as you pushed up from the chair, veering closer. “And second of all, you’re not funny.”

Mattheo poised for a sharp retort, ready to counter with his usual biting wit. However, his words stumbled into silence as he observed you drawing near.

With a swift, almost calculated movement, you bent at the hips to retrieve your book beside him. The fabric of your skirt dared to venture higher up your thighs than convention allowed, leaving Mattheo momentarily entranced and rendering his intended response obsolete.

But the second you straightened out, meeting his eyes, lips teasing a knowing smirk, he was on you.

Your back slammed against the shelf as he grappled your hips, shoving you back. he towered over you, his lips pressed directly against your ear as he growled;

“You shouldn’t be bending over like that in front of me,” his voice was torn, shredded, and he finished the sentence off with a sharp “ever.”

your heart was hammering. “Why not, Matty? Didn’t enjoy the show?”

“You have no idea what that ass of yours does to me,” he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. “Every fucking day I imagine railing it--I imagine fucking the attitude right out of you…you should know better than to tempt me.”

Theodore Nott.

“Look at that,” Theodore quipped, his snarky grin practically evident in his tone of voice. “top of the class again. how does that L feel, huh?”

you grumbled, rolling your eyes so far into the back of your skull that you were seeing white.

“don’t get cocky, Nott.” you nearly snarled, the frustration seeping from your lips like breath. “it’s not a good look on you,”

theodore merely chuckled, knowing that was a complete fucking lie.

cockiness was an infuriatingly good look on him, and that was solely due to the fact that the objects of his arrogance were damn impressive achievements that could make anyone green with envy.

the man was unfathomably smart for an arrogant jock whose life was dedicated to being the best quidditch player to ever exist.

clucking his tongue, he’d shoot you a knowing glance. “you sound jealous, bella. what’s your grade?”

as he tried to lean over to glimpse your mark, you pulled your paper away from him, scowling. “how about mind your own business, hm?”

he’d chuckle. “never been known for that, have i?”

Before you could formulate a response, Theodore snatched the paper from your hands, leaning away to sneak a glance at your mark. Your groan of irritation resonated, signaling your exasperation with his antics.

Annoyed, you reached over to grab your paper back, your low-cut blouse exposing more of your chest than you’d intended.

As soon as Theodore’s eyes fixed on your chest, noting your breasts practically spilling out of your shirt, he paused; his fingers involuntarily releasing the paper without further fight, his lips parting and eyes darkening.

“merlin,” he’d breathe, his voice torn. “you trying to give a lad a fucking heart attack, wearing a shirt like that?”

your cheeks grew warm, his eyes not once breaking from your chest as you straightened back out in your chair, adjusting yourself.

“it’s rude to stare, Nott.” you’d say, fighting a grin. “didn’t your mommy ever teach you that?”

Theodore let out a low groan, edging his body closer to yours. His lips dangerously neared your ear, and he couldn't resist sneakily glancing down your shirt, unable to control his wandering gaze.

“it’s rude to tease, Bella,” he’d purr, his voice a dark murmur. “and truth be told, i can’t quite help myself…”

you huffed, unable to stifle your smirk. “sounds like you need a refresher in manners.”

“Oh, principessa,” he’d retort, his voice laced with need. “you can refresh me in anything you want as long as i can see more of those perfect tits of yours.”

Tom Riddle.

Tom Riddle was an absolute brilliant genius;

a good man. a private, by-the book type of student.

and if you were being completely honest with yourself, this was precisely why the two of you didn’t quite get along.

it seemed as though Tom had it out for you, as though he had some sort of personal vendetta to make your life a living hell.

At every opportunity, he wielded his prefect powers to land you in trouble for something. Perhaps, in all fairness, you should have known better than to sneak into the restricted section of the library or prowl around the castle late at night,

but, gods. couldn’t he just cut you some bloody slack for once?

Admittedly, you were afraid to cross Tom. You weren't eager to be on his bad side, but at the same time, you weren't prepared to entirely abandon breaking the rules and having fun just because you were aware he could catch you.

so instead, you learned his schedule, where he’d be and at what times, knowing how to effectively avoid him.

the man was a cunning genius, you knew he could effectively destroy you if he so pleased.

but, on this particular night, he was set to be patrolling the dungeons for at least another two hours, giving you plenty of time to sneak into the library and do a little research.

and everything was going extremely well, hidden in the restricted section, blanketed by the nights encompassing darkness, when you noticed your shoelace was untied.

Bending down to address the matter, a peculiar sensation tingled through your senses as you completed the task. A subtle shift in the atmosphere hinted at an approaching presence, and just as you straightened up, the hushed cadence of footsteps drew closer.

Before you could pivot to face the intruder, their looming silhouette materialized behind you.

A towering figure, their breath, warm and palpable, brushed over your ear as they leaned in, setting your nerves on edge.

“you shouldn’t be bending over like that in public,” the voice was a deep, dark rasp in your ear, the arrogance in the tone unmistakable. “some people might think you’re a little slut.”

heat rushed you, your thighs clenched. “and what if i want some people to think that?”

immediately understanding your suggestive remark, Tom wasted no time before grappling your hips and spinning you around to face him, one hand slithering around your lower back and grasping a palmful of your ass.

“filthy whore,” he’d growl, his voice shredded now, barely restrained. “breaking the rules and showing off that perfect ass for anyone to see…calls for punishment i’d say.”

his teeth found your neck and you whimpered, clutching onto him. “i’m-“

Tom pulled back, meeting your eyes. “bend over the desk, now.”

#sorry #i got extremely carried away #18+ au.

[kisspurins]

hold me tight 𓍯𓂃 𓏧 ♡

୨୧ pairings｜bestfriend! anton x reader

୨୧ wc｜3.3k

୨୧ warnings｜smut with plot，dubcon，mentions drinking，mouth fucking with fingers，spit play (kinda)，size kink，frat boy!anton，fat cock anton，unprotected sex，tongue kissing，thigh riding，praising，crying，dumbification，breeding

you didn't think much of it when anton invited you to his frats house party.

you've known anton since freshman year when you were taller than him and he had a buzz cut from a stupid dare he followed through with the day before school started back. he'd been someone you always took the role of protecting before he grew into his looks and puberty hit him mid sophomore year and suddenly he was towering over you instead. anton has always been sweet but after he joined swimming and left your social circle, slowly that facade became apart of him only you knew and thats what kept you close.

so there was no surprise when he showed up to your dorm room asking if you wanted to be his plus one to his frats yearly welcoming party.

"please the guys always ask about you!" raising up from your bed you give him a look, brows furrowed, "the guys know about me?" without thinking your best friend was nodding, "yeah I talk about you all the time." his sentence came out rushed and when he realized what he just said he stopped his pacing around your room turning to face you.

"not—" "really? what do you tell them?" you interrupted, big smile spreading your face as he stumbled over his words. anton huffed, cheeks tinted a light red when he looked you in the eye. "are you coming or not?" you shrug twisting the strings dangling on your shorts with your finger. "I'll come but you better not leave me."

you should've known better than to trust anton of all people to stick beside you at a party.

the room was hotter than you expected it to be, even with the windows open to let the night air circulate, there was too many sweaty bodies pressing against each other to cool down the room. sometime in the beginning you had already lost sight of anton to some sorority girl, and unlike him, one thing you aren't interested in is sucking up to some people you know you'll never talk to again after college. the red plasic cup in your hand, your second one, is empty from your nervous sipping, leaving your head cloudy and vision blurry. and the flashing lights made everything 10x worse for your headache, not to mention how impossible it is to find anton like this.

you remember how much you hate being a lightweight while you sloppily stumble through the crowd. you pushed yourself down the hallway, hands pressed into the wall while you made your way further down to antons room. you weren't very familiar with frat parties since you decided against joining in on the weekly mixers after a one night stand you couldn't remember, but you did know your way around antons frat house. hes sneaked you in a couple times while his friends were out claiming "if they saw a pretty girl like you, they would ravage you." and you didn't fight him on it.

you're two seconds away from almost throwing yourself into anton's door when it opens, flinging you to collide against someones hard chest. "I'm soooo sorry!" you gapsed, hands reaching to feel on the person who protected your fall, "I was just about to come find you."

pausing for a moment you look up, giggling when you notice you're feeling up on anton. "there you aree! you got so big tonieee?" "you're drunk already? I barely left you alone."

If you were sober you would've recognized the worry in his voice, but all you can think about now is how sweet it is, like he uses the most gentle tone he has only for you. “Its been half an hour dummy…” you trailed off, "left me alone for that long!"

“I'm sorry angel.”

“It's okayy!"

you catch the "angel" too late. eyes fluttering up at him while you melt into his arms wrapped securely around your waist, hoping he couldn’t tell in the dark entryway how that one word made you feel so gushy.

"gonna take you inside okay?" you nod to his words. there wasn’t much space between you two at all, the tips of your feet only a few inches apart. anton sat you on his bed, running to turn on his lamp instead of the big light because you were already having trouble focusing. across from you, anton leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. It was easy to look at him. he was so enamoring. everything about him was all consuming.

"how many drinks did you have? do you want water to sober you up?"

you shake your head no, leaning back to snuggle up in his bed. "m fine right here." anton doesn't protest, just hums before he's walking up to you and slipping in the empty space next to you. purposely laying on the edge so you can't fall if you were to drunkenly roll over. "can I hold you?" he asks, voice light and clear, "you don't need to say yes if you don't want to right now." you consider, thinking about giggling at anton and wrapping yourself up in his embrace, becoming another one of his easy girls he can cross off a list. but you also think about how you've been friends with anton this long and hes never been a bad guy. how you know for sure he wouldn't hurt you, or use and leave you. "okay but you have to hold me tight."

anton hummed in response again then his strong arms were holding you to his chest. you feel the vibrations from him talking on your back and it's enough that it almost rocked you right to sleep. "what happened to the girl?" you asked, sudden curiosity peaking your interest. "she wanted to get high and have a quick fuck." you peeked over your shoulder when he spoke, his words lingering for a bit. you didn't know what to say to that. sorry? oh cool? you rake your head for something, anything, but anton was already clearing his throat, "I stopped smoking." "oh" "yeah"

you two didn't speak anymore after that. your head stayed drifting from the alcohol and anton just held you like this was natural for him and it probably was. he was so warm you could practically feel the heat radiating off his body making you unbelievably sticky. and maybe the alcohol was making your talk so bold, you spoke without realizing. "can I take off this dress? it's so hot tonie." you whined a little shuffling around. anton pressed his fingers deep into your hips stopping your movements, "will you chill out?" he asked between gritted teeth. "why?" you teased, quickly forgetting all about the stickiness you felt. "gonna pop a boner over this?" you said swiveling your hips making sure to directly press against his crotch more. "you're drunk yn," he hissed, "you don't know the things I'm capable of doing to you."

"what're you gonna do? take advantage of me?" anton’s eyes are dark as he listens to you, hands already working to flip you over. face to face with him now, your confidence slips. "what—what are you doing tonie?" his hands sneak up to cup your face, one of his thumbs caressing across your cheek. "shhh it'll be okay. don't you trust me?" you've never doubted anton.

the thumb caressing your cheek inches its way to your lips and instinctively your mouth drops open for him. "awww, been waiting for me?” you whine when he teases and doesn't press his thumb on your tongue like you wanted. "don't you have manners baby?" you whimper at his words. his voice is so much deeper then you were used to, sharp and assertive. "please tonieee... need your fingers please please?"

anton knows in the morning you'll be scared and confused waking up naked next to him. the thought of your wide teary eyes while you try to remember what you did last night, it turned him on. being able to have you like this was a rare opportunity and what kind of friend would he be not to take care of you when you're begging for him so much?

"you're such a good girl. the sweetest girl ever." your face lights up when anton is sweet, eyes practically sparkling when you stick out your tongue waiting for him.

anton caresses your cheek again, this time pushing his thumb to glide over your top lip knowing you would get more impatient waiting. your mouth is warm and pretty, so delicate hes afraid he'll break you when he presses his thumb on your tongue and you gag just from the touch. his heartbeat is loud in his ears as he watches you resisting the urge to wrap your lips around him. "fuck," he gasps pushing further back and your eyes get watery. "go ahead baby."

immediately you're wrapping your lips around his thumb humming in satisfaction. your tongue swirls around his finger and anton swears he can feel his dick twitching. and just to be mean, he pulls out his finger. you whine in protest, head falling forward a little to chase after him and before you can vocalize your feelings, anton's pushing his index and middle finger back past your pretty lips. he almost forgets theres still a party going on just a few doors down, indecent noises of suction blocking out the faded music in the background.

"you're so perfect," anton breathes out, starting to fuck your mouth open with his fingers. spit starts leaking at the corner of your mouth, dripping onto his wrist. you're so shameless when your mouth is full, eyes closed and hips bucking. anton can't stop himself from commenting. "all this time all i had to do to shut you up was stuff your mouth?" you're too hypnotised by the feel of his fingers going in and out of your mouth to register anything he says.

"come on baby," anton mumbles pulling out his fingers as slow as possible and still you break out into a fit of tears, breathing hard and pulling for his hand again. "wh—what! no! no no tonie please!" "shhh don't have to make this hard." he coos to try to calm you down. It works for a second but then you're crying again shuffling closer to him.

"don't be a crybaby. I promise I'm gonna take care of you, pretty." anton says, hands working down your body to grope your ass. you whine when he squeezes, teary eyes focusing up at him. "not a crybaby! you're just so—" your words get stuck in your throat when he inches your dress up, "mhm?" "so mean." you huff and he laughs, hands gripping your ass again. "always wanted to do this to you.." your thighs clench together when he says that and like he expected it, he was prying them open with this thigh replacing the space himself.

"ton.." you drag out, your hips unconsciously moving slowly on his thigh. anton was quick to catch the hint, lifting his leg up a bit more to give you more friction as you grind harder, your body moving on it’s own as you ramble incoherently. “I know baby, couldn't help yourself. just a dumb little thing huh?" you shake your head no, hands trembling when you reach up to pull his head closer to you. "kiss me please?" you glance from his lips to his eyes, hips starting to stutter when you make eye contact and he licks his lips, "please—please kiss me.." "you sure?" you nod eagerly closing your eyes.

the longer the wait the more your heart races. something about this situation makes you feel desperate and mushy. you've never wanted so bad for someone to kiss you and the fact that its anton makes things harder, you can barely think of anything besides how this feels so intimate. his hands move to brush your hair away from your face softly, a touch that usually doesn't affect you but then he starts tucking your stray hairs behind your ears and your heart is fluttering. he listlessly leans forward, gently pressing his lips onto yours with a light pressure. your heart skips a beat with the realisation that your best friend is kissing you on the lips. you forget all about your achy cunt when kissing him, his lips so soft and pillowy you feel yourself getting dumb.

everything feels like it’s spinning when anton slips his tongue into your mouth, trying to focus on syncing up but its hard when it feels so foreign and it makes you foggy thinking about him tasting the alcohol off your tongue. naturally, you let him take the pace and your mouths get more accustomed to one another and it makes you wonder what was so hard about this at first. the kiss is so slow and overwhelming, tongues twisting together while spit drips from the corner of your mouth. you don't notice when hes pushing himself over you, fingers hooking under the thin strap of your panties.

"knew you wanted this," anton laughed, hand dropping down to cup your cunt. "poor girl is leaking everywhere." you whinced at his words, your knees trying to knock together to squeeze and keep him there. "don't be mean" you can hear anton let out a breath before he's prying your legs open and giving your cunt a little tap. "don't do that anymore." your lip tuts out at his harsh tone. when he gets stern like that its a little scary and you can feel every fiber in your being aching to obey him. blinking up at him, you mumble a little “sorry” and let him touch you.

anton moves slowly, sliding his finger up to your swollen clit and circling it through your panties. there’s an intense amount of heat surging between you two. the way you’re positioned with him, his large frame caging you between the bed and his hand that pushes into you doesn’t help anything. you can feel yourself get more slick the more he puts pressure on your clit. "please.. need more ton,"

he hums, letting his fingers slip under your panties, now directly pressing on your nub. your back arches off the bed waiting for him to do more and he lets you get caught up. "tonie..” you whimper. he looks up from your cunt and hes so pretty your thighs twitch. “mhm?” "take clothes off please? so hot.." as soon as you utter the words, your eyes were trailing to the side, embarrassment settling in your chest.

"you're so smart baby." he says withdrawing his fingers. you stay still in your position, watching his every movement. anton is teasing when he lifts his shirt over his head, arms flexing so much it makes your mouth watery. you try to follow him, fumbling to pull off your dress in a rush while he's taking off his pants. you're moving slower than you thought because when you're done with your dress, anton is moving back in between your legs hands working to slip off your panties. your head is so consumed you just let him manhandle you, eyes fixating on his dick. so girthly and heavy resting on his stomach.

everything moves so fast when hes towering over you again, hand pressing over your tummy while he glides himself up and down your slit.

you always knew anton was big. you've spent so many nights with him, you were used to seeing him in a pair of grey sweats and those leave everything to the imagination. and with the way he talks extra cocky about himself, you had no doubt. but the feeling of his tip pressing to your hole is too much. forcing its way into your snug cunt, you gasp so sweetly, eyes watering while your hole clenches around him. your swollen lips drop into a pretty little "oh!" and he smiles.

“hnng— tonie s’too big! can't!" “you can do it for me, pretty.” his breath is hot against your ear. “I’ll make it fit.”you already feel so cockdrunk, struggling to keep your eyes open as he bullies his fat tip into your sloppy hole. anton's cock twitches so good inside you at the sight. "come on baby, stay with me." he huffs out, too stuck on the way your pussy is spread open so shamefully for him. you moan breathlessly at each push, pussy squelching while he splits you apart. you can't help but to try and squirm away. "ton... too much—" you whimpered, "really can't— ah! ah ah!" anton breaks you off, big arms wrapping around your hips so you can’t run from him. you squeal when he traps you and then he's pulling you down down down onto his thick cock.

“see pretty," he groans, bottoming out in one swift thrust "could take all of me. don't know what you're talking about." your head shakes no, the strech is enough to break you but anton's not stopping till he’s buried in your dripping cunt all the way to the hilt. you can't think. you don't even realize your tongue is sticking out until he pulls out and leans down to suck on it when he pushes back in, his balls smacking against your ass in the process. you're so overwhelmingly full of him, you can't kiss back. letting him suck n pull on the muscle.

drool drips delicately down your mouth at how animalistically he was treating your mouth. no longer sweet and gentle but instead gross and rough. pulling away from you, he smirks as he begins to pull out inch by inch agonizingly slow. "pussy belongs to me now." he hums, cock ramming into you.

the pace he starts up is numbing and makes you delirious. “oh! oh my— oh my god! nnng please!”you can do nothing but lay there and take it as anton edges you closer and closer to cumming. “gonna fill you up.” he whispers, voice raw and dripping with desperation. "need to make you mine. like that pretty? wanna be my girlfriend?" you nod eagerly, "already— already yours t—tonie!" that spurs him on. he increases his pace impossibly, so rough your skin is stinging where his balls smack your ass, fucked out little "ah! ah! ah!" leaving your lips each time his hips hit yours.  "fuck you're so cute,” he trails off dangerously, gaze unfocusing on the creamy white ring forming around his base to look in your eyes, “need you like this forever..”

“yes yes yes, please! forever please please!” hes fully intent on keeping you babbling for him or until you physically couldn't anymore, pulling one of your legs to hang off his shoulder so he can hit impossibly deeper. your eyes go wide when he starts hitting your womb, fingers digging into his arms. "right there! oh! tonie right there!" little yelps leave you, “feel you! feel it s’deep!”

“yeah? right here?” he purrs, tip pressing more into that mushy spot. his eyes are dark and glinting with something predatory as they greedily lock onto the way his cock fucks in and out of you. your body moves with every thrust, headboard knocking into the wall repeatedly you know people can hear it too. anton's thrusts get sloppy when hes close, body leaning over to groan into your ear. "gonna cum baby?" you wrap your arms around his torso to pull him closer, needing to feel his heart beating against yours before pressing your lips to his cheek. "cumming tonie!!"

you cum so hard your body shakes in anton's arms, not registering that he just came inside at this point, too exhausted and cock drunk that all you can feel is anton pulsing inside you. "ton.... s'much— inside so— so much.." you moan softly, words slurring together. sloppy hole quivering at the feeling of being so overfilled. “I know baby,” he whispers, voice light and sweet again. he waits patiently for you to unlatch for him so he can clean you up, not wanting to accidentally trigger you. instead of lessening your grip, you snuggle more into him.

"please just hold me tight?"

© KISSPURINS 2024 ✿