#god gave me free will and free time and look what I do with it

[redtsundere-writes]

Price's beard is famous around base—a rugged, full, and commanding presence that spoke to both discipline and masculinity. That type of beard that's hard to grow and maintain. And there's his hair. An immaculately cut, effortlessly styled, and somehow looking even better every time he comes back for a mission. Soldiers always pester him to tell them who his barber is, but he always gatekeeps it. He never cracks. It's his best well-kept secret.

After months of deployment, his beard needed a refresh. He knocked on his neighbor's door, a cute hairstylist that does her family and friend's hair on her free time. You opened the door with a huge smile to see Price was back home safe and sound.

“The usual?” You asked, pulling a chair from the kitchen for him to sit in. It was part of the routine. A warm hug after months of not seeing each other, letting him in your house, offer him something to drink, and putting his favorite tunes on the speaker.

“You know it. Just work your magic.” Price trusted you completely, almost blindly. You had been his barber for years now. “How's the family?”

“Pretty good, captain. My lil sister is getting married next week. I'll be doing her hair, such a huge honor.” You placed the cape around his neck, breathing in his intoxicating scent with notes of amber and musk.

“That's wonderful news. You better send my congrats.”

“Will do, captain.”

You prepared your tools—your shears, straight blade, a new leather strap you bought recently. You really like when Price came by, it was the perfect opportunity to use your barber kit and practice with a handsome model. “The usual” was simple. Price was meticulous about his grooming, already keeping his hair in check with the products you’d recommended. It was just cutting the top of his hair, cleaning the edges of his beard and carve out sharp lines that framed that unmistakably strong jaw.

But it wasn’t just the cut that brought him back, he liked the nice chats and to admire how you worked. He loved the way you worked—slow, steady, deliberate. The way your tongue peeked out to focus on the details. The gentle press of your soft fingertips as you tilted his head. Unlike other barbers, you never asked any questions about his work, he didn't like to think about that on his free time. When he sat in your chair, the world outside didn’t exist. It was just the sound of the scissors, the warmth of your presence, and a fleeting sense of home.

“And this dickhead even has the nerve to ask: 'Are we fucking or are we splitting the check?' Like, what the hell?!” You were telling him how your last blind date ended as you cut the sides of his hair, making sure it didn't touch his ears because the tickles bothered him.

“What a fucking pillock!” Price gasped angry.

“That's what I said!” You huffed. “Who is raising these boys? I swear to god, my 8-year-old nephew is more a man than that bastard.”

“I always wondered why are you single, I think I have my answer now,” Price said.

“Look, I may be single, but I ain't desperate. I won't settle for anything less than a gentleman.” You scoffed as you finished the touch ups. “We are all done, handsome.”

You gave Price a mirror. He moved his head around to admire the details of your wonderful, usual, job. He felt like a new, clean man. You looked at him with a bright smile, satisfied with your job.

“I am telling ya, you were born for this,” Price said as you unbuttoned the cape.

“Aw, thanks, captain. You are always so sweet.” You blushed.

“How much do I owe you, luv?” Price pulled up his wallet.

“Oh, c'mon. You know it's always from the house.” You pushed the wallet from your sight, making him to put it back in his pocket.

“You can't be giving away your talent for free,” Price smiled. He liked the attention, but he didn't want to abuse of your kindness. “At least let me tip you.”

“Please, captain. I insist.” You looked at him straight to the eye. Your heart skipped a beat when he looked back at you with those dreamy eyes of him. He finally smiled in defeat.

“Fine, fine.” Price sighed, putting the wallet back in his pocket. “What about I take you out to dinner?”

“Captain, that's not necessary…” You chuckled.

“Not as payment,” Price interrupted you. “As a date. I can give you the real gentleman you want.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, catching you completely off guard. You hadn’t expected that—hadn’t expected him to be so direct, so effortlessly charming. Price took your hand and kissed your knuckles softly, his beard tickling your skin lightly.

You met his gaze, your smile breaking through before you could even think to suppress it. How could you say no? The most handsome client to ever sit in your chair had just asked you out—and you accepted without hesitation.

Masterlist.

[spiderb00bs]

- Faith In Me

Anora x (g!p) reader 

“You thought you and Anora were living an impossible romance, but someone always has to get in the way of the fairy tale.” 

Genre – Smut      Warnings –  unprotected sex, mutual masturbation 

(request) 

Now playing –  Again, by Noah Cyrus, XXXTENTATION

Working in a law firm was like a dream at first, having your own money and being able to work all day in front of a computer seemed incredible. You saw that things didn't work out like that later on, you certainly weren't complaining about the good life your job gave you, but every now and then tiredness always took over. Fortunately, you always had friends to share your happiness, frustrations and achievements with.   

Ted was your closest friend at work, you always went out together for lunch and drinks after work, he was what you would call a good friend. He was always there when you needed him and always helped you with your work, and even though he was a bit too free-spirited, you could never say no to an adventure with him.   

“A strip club? Dude, are you serious?" you hurried through the building, late for an important meeting with your clients.   

“Bro, trust me! You need to relax a bit and this is definitely the right place.” He said, Ted was on your tail, talking about how you should have some fun after work.   

“I don't know.” Passing your coworker's desk, you greeted her with a smile, which made the woman blush and reciprocate with a 'good morning'.   

“Come on, Yn. When was the last time you really had fun?” Opening your mouth to answer, you were immediately cut off by Ted again. “No, building legos while watching all the Spiderman movies is not fun.”  

Rushing forward, Ted stopped in front of you, putting his hands on your shoulders, making you stop walking. “I'm talking about real fun, when was the last time you had sex?”   

 “That's none of your business!” You say, pushing Ted aside and putting your hand on the door handle where the meeting was probably already taking place.   

“Come on Yn...”  

Sighing, you let your tense shoulders relax, looking over your shoulder at the blond man with the brown eyes. “You're an idiot.”   

“You won't regret it!” It was the last thing you heard before closing the door in his face and facing your meeting.   

The bright lights made your eyes hurt a little, but Ted's excited jumping next to you distracted you from the slight pain. The club was very well decorated, there were half-naked girls walking up and down and the space itself was very cool.   

Despite the countless girls laughing and chatting around, the only thing that caught your attention was the bar, making your throat dry up almost instantly. Leaning on the counter, you asked the barman for a beer, unbuttoning the top two buttons of your shirt before looking around once more.   

“Oh my God! This is all so cool!” Ted said excitedly, watching the girls walk past, winking at them and looking as excited as anyone else there. “Do you see how many beautiful women there are here? Man, this is awesome!”   

Shaking your head, you took a sip of your beer, nodding in agreement as you let the cold liquid run down your throat. “It's a pretty place”  

“ Pretty? The women are pretty, the place is at least okay.” Ted said, coming up to you and asking the barman for a shot.   

Taking the beer from your lips and placing it on the counter, Ted put his hands on your cheeks, slapping you twice and making you jump in your seat.   

“What the fuck? Are you crazy?”   

“Listen here! You're going to have fun, pick up a girl and have a private dance. Do you hear me?”   

“Did someone say they want a dance?”   

Hearing the voice, your head turned, Ted following the movement, only to see a beautiful brunette standing next to you. The woman had skin so white it looked like porcelain, her eyes were enchanting, and she was blowing smoke out of her lips, which were showing one of the most beautiful smiles you'd ever seen.   

Tapping you on the chest, Ted smiled at you, then left for another part of the club, while you stood there uncomfortably next to the most beautiful stranger in the world.   

Laughing slightly, the woman approached you, taking the seat that the blonde had previously occupied. “So, cutie, what's your name?” The woman asked.   

“Yn.”   

“Okay, Yn. I'm Ani.” She said, moving closer to you, coming face to face with a look that could melt you to pieces. “Do you really want a dance, or did your friend make you come here?”   

Raising her hand, Ani began lazily fiddling with your hair, combing it back with her fingers. Her big nails made you want to moan with satisfaction.  

“It's my first time here...” Her head tilted to the right, just waiting for you to continue, but the look in her eyes made you want to drop to your knees. “I just came for a drink, but...”   

Smiling at you, Ani moved a little closer, taking your hand in hers without taking her eyes off yours. “Now you kind of want a dance, don't you?”   

Her hips seemed to have a life of their own, swaying majestically on top of you. You wanted to grab Ani's hips, to take control just to feel powerful, but you couldn't deny that you also loved the way she looked when she was on top of you.   

“Are you enjoying that, pretty girl?” Her smile made your heart skip beats, and that felt strangely good.   

Your dick was starting to come alive in your pants, and as much as you didn't want it to, it was kind of inevitable. With so much work, you didn't have time to build up any romantic attachments, and it was never really your thing to go to bed with someone you'd only just met. So put that together with the fact that Ani's hips were the eighth wonder of the world, and it was inevitable that your little friend wouldn't show any signs of life.   

Rubbing herself harder against you, Ani put her hands on your neck, biting her lower lip as she looked into your face. “You come with a nice little surprise, don't you?”   

Shaking your head, you gripped the armchair you were sitting on tighter, your knuckles turning white with the force you applied. “Is that a problem for you?” Ani could sense the slight tone of desperation in your voice  

Reassuring you as quickly as possible, the brunette shook her head with a smile. “I think you're going to make me fall in love.”   

Before you knew it, Ani's lips were glued to yours, the kiss was a little messy, but you could clearly feel her soft lips, the taste of strawberries and alcohol on her tongue made you feel dizzy. Inevitably, your hands ended up on her hips, as you had wanted from the start.   

“Can we do this?” You asked between kisses. You had never known that you could kiss girls who worked in clubs, even if you were paying for a dance.   

“Not technically...” Ani said, looking at you with those mesmerizing eyes before giving you a smile. “But I liked you...” stroking your hair and moving her hips slowly over your bulge, Ani continued: ”Did you like me too?”   

Shaking your head positively, you grabbed her ass, pulling Ani back into a thirsty kiss. 

Things went well, hell, things were going very well. You went back to HQ a few times, just to see Ani. You ended up getting her number weeks later, which only brought you closer and closer together. Now you were going out together on Ani's days off, having dinner in nice restaurants - which Ani was sure she would never go to alone - and walking down the street holding hands like teenagers in love, dropping her off at home after her shift at the club and making phone calls to talk about the smallest things on your minds, you even found out that Ani's real name is Anora.   

 -- 

“So I'd rather people didn't call me by my name.” Ani finishes explaining, sitting on your lap in one of the club's private dance booths.  

By this point, you weren't even interested in the dances anymore, just paying to hear Ani speak. You loved the way she rambled on about everything while playing with your hair or comparing the size of your hands. It was all very comfortable and you both loved it.   

“But you tell everyone your name is Ani...” Seeing your confused countenance, Ani tilts her head to the right, a sarcastic look passes through her eyes before the brunette starts laughing, making you laugh along, even if confused.   

“I thought lawyers were smarter.” Ani says, leaning in and leaving a kiss on your lips, hearing you let out a small “ HEY!” at what she said. “My name is Anora.”  

“Anora.”   

You tested the name on your lips, savoring the sensation of discovering more about the woman on top of you. Ani never really liked people who weren't her family calling her by her real name, but something about the way you said it, the tone of your voice when you said her name, made her shiver. Maybe she didn't hate it when you called her by her real name, at least not the way she does when others call her.   

-- 

The important thing is that things were going well, and after a hectic day at work, you couldn't wait to see Ani again.   

When you arrived at the club, things seemed different, the lights seemed less bright and something seemed wrong, even if you had no idea what. It was only when you got deeper into the place that you saw, now you knew why things were grayer, the world was preparing you for this.   

You didn't know who the boy was, but you certainly wanted to break his face. In the middle of everyone, Ani's lips were on his, his hands on her hips, aggressively pulling her close, a stark contrast to how you put your hands there. Ani's hands were on his neck, and it honestly felt very different from anything you'd ever experienced.   

It was aggressive, fast, amateurish, without passion, without love.   

Turning around, you started walking towards the exit. Was it all a lie? Did Ani do this with anyone, just for the money? You didn't want to think like that, you didn't know Ani like that, Ani was never like that, Anora wasn't like that.   

“Where are you going in such a hurry, sweetie?” Making you stop your hurried steps, the woman in front of you put her hand on your chest, making you jump back slightly.   

You knew her name was Diamond, you'd heard Ani complain about her being a pain in the ass once or twice.  

“Just because Ani's busy doesn't mean you can't have fun with someone else, someone better than her...” Approaching you, Diamond grabbed your hands, making you hold onto her waist while she put her hands on your neck.   

Nodding your head, you broke away from the woman, not having the patience or sanity for this shit right now. Leaving the woman behind, you left the club. You thought things would be different, but it was business as usual, just you putting expectations on impossible things. 

Hey, I didn't see u this week  are you okay? 

I have a day off, wanna hang? 

I saw Ted today   he pretty much ran away when he saw me   What's going on w u? 

It's okay if you're busy but why are you ignoring me???

Anora stared at the phone screen, wondering why you hadn't replied, even after so many months.  

Things weren't going well for Ani, after a month, she stopped messaging you, seeing that you didn't reply, she focused on something else, or rather, someone else.   

Vanya seemed like a dream at first, he was charming, funny, had a lot of money, and Ani ended up getting carried away. She didn't fully understand why she did it, she thought that maybe, if you had replied to her messages, she wouldn't have taken things seriously with that Russian boy. She wouldn't have allowed herself to like him, she wouldn't have allowed herself to marry him, fuck, she wouldn't have allowed him to make her life a living hell.   

Ani didn't know where you were, when she went back to work at the club, she thought she'd see you occasionally, but things weren't like that. She never heard from you again, she didn't know where you lived or where you worked, she only knew that you were a lawyer, but that was it. She always looked at the photos she had on her phone when she was down, the photos she took when the two of you went on dates, or a photo of you standing in front of her house after dropping her off, or simply a photo of your hand holding hers as the two of you walked down the sidewalk.   

Anora always loved how you never tried to hide her from anyone, how you were always proud to walk with her by your side and take her to fancy places even if those mean people judged her for the clothes she wore. Anora loved that, Anora loves you, and the thought of how quickly things ended, without her even being able to tell you, makes her chest ache.   

“Get over it.” Diamond's annoying voice rang in Ani's ears, giving the woman sitting in the rest room a fright.   

“Jezz! Get a bell, don't you ever let people know when you're coming?” Ani says, the annoyed look on her face not making Diamond move an inch.   

“You know, you should get over her. One failed marriage at a time, right?!”   

Rising from her chair, Ani advanced on Diamond, frustrated enough that any comment would be enough to set her off. “Repeat what you said, you slut, I dare you!”  

The surrounding girls watched without getting involved, they certainly didn't want to be among Ani and Diamond's bloody war.   

“I'm just saying that you've already lost her. She even tried something better than you while you were gone.”  

Ani's eyes filled with fury, anger bubbling up inside her body. How could you? You had sex with Diamond? Did you just look for another woman to replace her as soon as she left?   

Stomping her feet, Ani hurried towards the exit, unable to spend another minute in Diamond's presence without punching her. Passing all those disgusting, stupified men, Ani bumped her body hard into someone's. When she looked up, she could see that someone was there. When she looked up, she could see the stupid blond hair she knew well. Ted.  

In one swift movement, Ani pushed the tall man hard into the nearest wall, trapping the blond boy, who was now slightly wide-eyed. “Where does Yn work?”   

“I can't-”   

Cutting him off, Ani resorted to violence. Ted's body froze completely as he felt Ani's knee collide with his lower body, and he fell to his knees and groaned in pain against the corner of the club wall.  

“WHERE DOES SHE WORK?”   

“Upper West Side!” The poor man said, holding back the tears in his eyes.   

“Is she still there?” Ani asked, even though she knew it was seven in the evening, the brunette also knew you were a workaholic, so she tested the waters.   

“Yeah, she's staying late tonight, dammit!”  

Grabbing a napkin from the drinks counter, Ani asked the bartender for a pen, throwing the objects at Ted. “Write down the address. And you'll pay for my Uber.”  

After almost an hour in the car, Anora finally arrived at the building where you work, not interested in the stares she would receive for only wearing a very short dress and pretty heels. She entered the building without looking back, the reception quiet, probably because of the time of day.   

Approaching in strides, Ani leaned on the counter cheekily. “I want to speak to Yn Russel.”   

The receptionist looked her up and down, judging the inappropriate dress, the bright make-up, the exaggeratedly high heels and the points of light in Ani's hair. Unfazed, Ani looked at her expectantly, as if wondering if she had heard what she had said.   

“You know what, forget it. I'll find her myself!”   

Heading for the elevator, Ani heard the receptionist's protests, saying something about not being allowed in without permission. Anora didn't care, she wanted to see Yn and she wanted to see her now!  

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Ani clashed head-on with a tall woman. The woman she was looking for. 

"Anora?" you asked, surprised to see the woman after so long.  

"YOU STUPID BITCH!" Without giving you time to protect yourself, Anora began to slap you, making you walk backwards until you touched the wall of the elevator.  

You tried to cover yourself, using your document folder as a shield, but the slaps from the shorter woman seemed to hit all the right spots.  

"STOP IT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Dropping the bag on the floor, you tried to dodge Anora, finally managing to hold her wrists in place and immobilize the woman. 

 "YOU FUCKED DIAMOND!" Trying to free herself from your grip, Anora kicked and writhed.  

By this time, the secretary was just standing outside the elevator, looking at the scene with a shocked expression and making sure the automatic doors wouldn't close.  

"What?" You asked softly, while Anora was still struggling in your plight. Losing your temper, you wanted to understand what was really happening, and that wasn't going to happen if Ani continued with her small attack.  

"ANORA!" 

 When you screamed, Ani shuddered, stopping moving immediately, staring at you panting and angry. "We need to talk." 

The car was extremely quiet, at that moment, it was as if only you and Ani existed in the world, the empty parking lot you parked not doing much to change your thinking. It was almost ten o'clock at night, the place was half dark, but nothing compared to the darkness that was Anora by your side, the question mark, the doubt of the century.    "So..." With a sigh, you started not being able to say anything else when Ani took the lead.    "Why did you disappear?" Anora had her head down, as if the floor of your car was the most interesting thing in the world.    "I was busy-" 

"Cut that off, Yn. Too busy to answer a message? I sent you all the messages possible, and you didn't answer any!" Anora spoke, turning her head and body towards you, she had unbuckled her belt a while ago, and you couldn't lie in saying that you weren't scared that she would slap you again.    "I thought you were too busy with the white boy to miss me." You said. The bitterness in your voice made Anora want to step back a bit.    "Wait a minute... Vanya, are you talking about him?" Anora asked, her brows furrowed in confusion and disgust that she was remembering that idiot.    With no response, Ani could see the jealousy showing through her face, making her laugh and lean back in the passenger seat. "Oh my god, you were jealous of Vanya." 

Despite all the mess Ani managed to get into in the last few months, knowing that you were jealous of her was a huge relief, as it meant that she was not alone, you also felt something for her, something beyond the carnal.    "I'm not jealous!" You said, crossing your arms like a spoiled child who hadn't gotten the candy she wanted.    "You know the funniest thing, I didn't really like Vanya, and if you had answered my messages and not been an idiot, I wouldn't have had anything to do with him." Looking in the direction of the window, Ani wiped the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes.    "What happened? You know, between you both..." 

"I married him, and then I separated in less than a month." Her tone made you worried, the sarcastic giggle, the denial with your head, the disgust in her voice, everything made you feel bad. "I had the worst months of my life and I regretted every second of that shit." Turning her head to you, Ani let you see her sensitive side, the tears that stained her eyes.    "Nora..."    "It's not your fault. I was just desperate to get out of where I was, I ended up rushing in."    Placing your hands on Ani's cheeks, you wiped away her tears, kissing her salty cheeks right after. "No, I have a little guilt too. I should have told you how I felt from the beginning." You said, leaning your forehead against hers. 

"I love you, Anora. From the day I saw you, I felt better with you, a better version of myself." Anora's eyes were glued to yours, occasionally stealing glances to your mouth. "I don't want to lose you ever again."    As soon as you finished the sentence, Anora's lips glued to yours, a calm and tender kiss, sharing the unspoken feelings and the time they were apart. Your hands went to Anora's waist, like in the old days, the brunette's hands reaching for your hair, that feeling of love and lightness that she never felt with Vanya.    In a clumsy movement, Ani quickly sat on your lap. With agility, you pulled your seat back, more space freed up for Ani to be comfortable. The woman's hands going against your pants, unbuttoning the button and opening the zipper, and then, BOOM! 

"Wait!" Looking at her expectantly, you waited for what she was going to say, only for her to grab your cock through the fabric of your boxer shorts. "Did you have sex with Diamond?"    Opening your mouth, you couldn't say a word if you want, the squeeze Ani had on your cock was making you lose your breath, and Ani saw your face turn red before her eyes.    "Nora, this is hurting..." You spoke in a thread of voice, just making the woman squeeze your private area harder. "NO! I SWEAR I DIDN'T HAVE SEX WITH HER."    "Then why did she say yes?" 

"SHE TRIED, THE DAY I SAW YOU AND VANYA KISSING, BUT I PUSHED HER AWAY. I SWEAR!"    Seeing the sincerity and desperation in your eyes, Ani let go of your cock, making you gasp in pain and relax your shoulders on the leather bench. Coming close to your ear just to let her warm breath tease you. "I believe in you, but don't go near her again."    Shaking her head positively, you saw Anora smile contentedly, only to kiss your cheek and grab your cock again, gently this time. "Let me take care of you, baby girl." 

Freeing your cock from the fabrics that bound it, Ani spat on her hand, before quickly grabbing your cock again. Spreading her saliva well, she started masturbating you with slow movements, making your friend start to get excited again.    "Damn Nora, I missed you so much." You say, putting your hand under her dress, putting her panties aside in one quick motion and starting to make slow movements on her clit.    The moans you two let out echoed through the car, the heavy breathing of both of you fogging up the car windows, making it difficult for anyone to see what was happening inside, but not stopping them from imagining. Luckily, you knew that there would rarely be anyone around this time, and even if it was dangerous, you couldn't think much of it with Anora on top of you.    "Baby, I want you inside me." Anora said, starting to settle on your lap. 

Your hands were on her hips, helping her find a position where she was comfortable. When Anora finally grabbed your cock, she lined up the tip with her pussy, impaling herself more and more with your length. Your moans echoed together, and the brunette kissed your lips to feel even more intimate with you.    "Fuck baby, you're so hot when you take my cock like that." You say, making Anora wrap her arms around your neck, throwing her hair to the left side and starting to bounce on your cock.    The contact was perfect, skin to skin, the souls of the two of you connected, it was everything you two ever wanted. Anora's moans echoed through the car, the movements of her hips doing wonders for you, as your cock reached all the right places inside her. 

Kissing you, Ani felt your big hands grab her ass, lifting it a little before starting to hit her relentlessly. Anora's eyes rolled, and her nails slid with a pleasurable pain down your back.    "FUCK, BABY!" Anora screamed, piercing her nails on your back while you continued, practically, piercing her uterus. "I'M GONNA CUM."    Going faster, you held Ani closer. Your body was sweaty, and you could feel your balls weighing down as you buried yourself deeper and deeper into the brunette, and then in one swift motion, you felt Ani's pussy tighten your entire length, making you slow down but continue with the deep thrusts.    "Fuck baby, you're so beautiful." You said, brushing Anora's hair from her face and kissing her cheeks as she trembled on top of you, having the strongest orgasm she's ever had in her life. "Oh, I'm gonna cum too."

Unable to speak, Anora shook her head in confirmation, moaning when she felt you lift off you with the strength of your biceps, making your cock come out of her. Putting Ani back in your lap, you grabbed your cock, masturbating until your cum stained Ani's abs.    "Fuck..." You moaned as you tried to extract every last drop of cum possible.    Yah, fuck. I really love you." Anora said, grabbing your cheek and kissing your lips passionately. 

"I love you too, Nora." 

Hi guys, what's up?

man, I'm SO tired, seriously, college is killing me. 

Luckily I don't have classes this week, so I'm here writing to you. 

Drink water, stay safe 

xoxo, spider.

[feastingonchrist]

I had to learn this the hard way. But i didn't realize in the midst of it how much it was testing my faith and building my endurance the more i learned. i had slowly begun to connect to His love for me and was able to understand the gospel on a deeper level. Hebrews 3-4 gently convicted me to come to the throne of grace with boldness as Jesus is our High Priest and how we cannot look to ourselves for salvation. But rather look to Him and what He did for us. It took the pressure off of me and led me into repentance. It gave me a newfound sense of freedom in Christ that i had never felt before. But yeah, i used to think i had to perform for God's love and do everything perfect as i have struggled with perfectionism for years because i hated myself and was way overthinking my faith due to the serious nature of eternity and wanting to please God. But in His grace and absolute perfect timing, He freed me from that and has been helping me walk in grace ever since. there are times i still struggle with perfectionism and performance, but, i feel in those moments, He is working those ways out of me and building my endurance and faith and is reminding me in my weakness and trials that i still need Him and i need to keep my eyes on Him instead of myself because that is what always gets us into trouble. Psalm 23 has been a huge help for me to be reminded to humble myself, lie down with Him even when i don't want to, that He's refreshing my soul, is guiding me in the midst of my trials and offering me peace and rest, leading me out and setting me free, setting a table before me in the presence of my enemies, fighting my battles for me, anointing me with oil, me finding restoration as my cup overflows, and the hope of knowing that He will always be there with me as i have eternal life through Christ and i will dwell in His house forever. It truly is so beautiful and humbling to experience new life and freshness in Him and watching/looking back on how He is on the move in our lives! i have finally moved on from "religion" to "relationship" and heart connection with Him (this does not include tradition and liturgy because i believe you can have both as long as your heart posture is correct and is done through joy and not fear/perfectionism, etc.) It's so nice to live free in Christ!

God’s love doesn’t depend on your performance. It’s always constant.

[sturniololuvz]

Can you do a fic where the sister gets into a fight at school and she beats the girl up and the triplets have to come get her and she gets suspended and the next day they were out shopping and they see the girl and she jumps on her and beats her up while the triplets are trying to get her to stop but Chris I just cheering her on and when she gets home they clean her up and it had a cute little ending 💜💙🧡

yesss

“She Deserved It”

The call came in during the middle of the day.

Matt, Chris, and Nick were all at home when their phones rang at the same time.

“Hello?” Matt answered, putting the call on speaker.

“Hi, this is the principal of Y/N’s school. We need you to come pick her up. She got into a fight.”

The room went silent.

Nick blinked. “She did what?”

Chris grinned. “No way.”

Matt sighed, already grabbing the car keys. “We’re on our way.”

When they got to the school, they were led to the office where Y/N sat with her arms crossed, a bruise already forming on her cheek.

Chris sat down next to her, whispering, “Did you win?”

She scoffed. “Obviously.”

Chris held out his fist, and she bumped it.

Nick sighed. “Dude.”

The principal cleared his throat. “Y/N has been suspended for three days due to the altercation.”

Matt rubbed his temples. “Of course she has.”

The principal handed them a report. “She got into a physical fight with another student. From what we gathered, the other girl provoked her, but regardless—”

Y/N cut in, “She called me a slut because I was talking to her ex. She deserved it.”

Chris burst out laughing.

Nick smacked his arm. “Not the time.”

Matt sighed. “Can we just take her home?”

The principal nodded. “She’s free to go.”

Y/N stood up, grabbing her bag. As they walked out, Chris threw his arm over her shoulder. “Lowkey, I’m kinda proud of you.”

“Chris!” Matt and Nick scolded in unison.

“What? I am!”

Y/N just smirked.

The next day, the triplets took Y/N out shopping to “celebrate her suspension” (Chris’s words, not Matt’s).

She was minding her own business, looking at clothes, when she heard a familiar voice.

“Oh my God, look who it is. The psycho.”

Y/N turned around slowly—and there she was. The girl from the fight. Standing there, looking smug.

Chris nudged Matt. “Oh, it’s her.”

Matt groaned. “Not again.”

Nick was already prepared to step between them, but before he could—

Y/N launched herself at the girl.

“Y/N, NO—” Matt shouted, but it was too late.

She tackled the girl to the ground, fists flying.

People in the store gasped. Security was already moving in.

Nick was trying to pull her off. Matt was yelling for her to stop.

And Chris?

Chris was cheering.

“GET HER, Y/N! BEAT HER ASS!”

Matt turned to him in disbelief. “CHRIS, SHUT UP!”

It took both Matt and Nick to pull Y/N off the girl, and security threatened to kick them out if they didn’t leave immediately.

So they left.

Chris was still hyping her up.

“Dude, you jumped her like a WWE wrestler.”

“Chris, stop encouraging her,” Nick scolded, dragging Y/N to the car.

Y/N just wiped her bloody lip, grinning. “Worth it.”

Matt sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m too tired for this.”

When they got home, they sat Y/N on the bathroom counter while Matt grabbed the first aid kit.

“Alright, sit still,” he muttered, dabbing at the cut on her lip.

She winced. “Ow.”

Chris snorted. “You weren’t saying ‘ow’ when you were beating that girl’s ass.”

Matt gave him a look. “Not. Helping.”

Nick handed Y/N a cold rag for her bruised knuckles. “If you get suspended again, Mom’s gonna kill you.”

She shrugged. “She started it.”

Matt sighed, finally finishing up. “There. You’re all patched up, you menace.”

Y/N grinned. “Thanks, Matty.”

Chris ruffled her hair. “My little fighter.”

Nick just shook his head. “I hate that we’re used to this.”

Matt groaned. “We’re so used to this.”

Y/N just smirked. “Guess you’ll just have to keep bailing me out.”

Chris fist-bumped her. “Anytime.”

[tinkerbellini21]

A Stranger's Jacket: Part II

Evan "Buck" Buckley x plus size! reader

Word: 2.3k

Warnings: Mentions of trauma and shooting, fluff, Buck is a flirt

Author Notes: I have decided I am going to make this a plus! size reader since this is a very self indulgent fic. However, I am going to try to minimize the use of this to make this body inclusive for everyone. Reader is also female at birth and may occasionally use she/her pronouns. But I am trying to make this as inclusive for all of us females and nonbinaries!

Masterlist | Part I

Classes were canceled for a week, giving students time to cope with the trauma- or at least try. The university even allowed students to switch to online if they weren’t ready to return and even full reimbursement for those who couldn’t. 

You however sought normalcy and desperately wanted to get back into your routine. Dr. Daniels had made it out alive and would be out until at least November. By the third day of his time in the hospital, he was out of the ICU and was eager to see you. 

After he thanked you and his wife and two boys gave you a $20 gift card to Dunkin and a bouquet of flowers as a thank you, he had told you he wanted you to teach his Introduction to American Government class to lessen the load on the sub instructor the university contracted for him. 

You were both excited and nervous to have the opportunity to experiment with the possibility of teaching in the future. And most of all, it meant a lot to you that Dr. Daniels had enough trust and faith in you to handle the class. Maybe the fact that you saved his life helped him reach that conclusion. 

Now you sit parked across the street from the 118 fire station, with two cups of coffee and granola bars.

 You had bought the Kind Bars he had the day you met, and thanks to the Daniels family, the coffee was free. You hoped the caramel and a French Vanilla were good choices- Buck could pick first. 

God, this wasn’t weird… right? But showing up with nothing felt worse.

Opening the door to your car, you get out before reaching in to get the box of granola bars and the two-slot drink carrier. Taking a deep breath to soothe your anxieties, you close your eyes. 

This isn’t weird

The large bay doors of the firehouse open, giving a view of the firetrucks and people scattered across the station. You feel a bit out of place as you walk across the street, but you keep moving. As you approach the station, your eyes scan the interior for the blonde. 

You spot the woman paramedic talking to a shorter guy, and when you get closer and stop in front of the pair, they turn their attention to you.

“Hey, can I help you?”

“Yeah, I uh—is Buck here? I’m y/n. I was… at the school shooting last week and I just uh- I wanted to thank him for helping me.”

“Yes, he’s over at the weights. I can take you,” she pauses, extending her hand out towards you to shake “my name’s Hen by the way, and this is Chimney. You did an amazing job keeping that professor alive, by the way.”

“Oh, I didn’t do anything besides what I was trained to do.” You deflect.

“But you saved him by acting fast.”

“Thanks,” you reply shyly, still feeling nervous about being here and being praised for keeping Dr. Daniels stable “Thank you for what you do.”

“It’s our pleasure.” Chimney replies with a warm smile before you follow Hen. She weaves through a gap in two fire trucks leading you to the makeshift gym in the back of the firehouse. Buck is with another guy, spotting him as he lifts weights. 

“Buck, you have a guest.”

Buck glances up briefly. When his eyes spot you, the corner of his lips tug up.

“Hey,” he pauses before he turns his attention back to the man “let me finish this rep with Eddie and we can talk.”

 Hen stands beside you, arms crossed at her chest. She looks amused as she observes the situation. You, on the other hand, feel a bit self-conscious, looking at the two fit men in comparison to your plush body. You shift your weight, trying to stand taller, to feel more confident. You are not here to feel bad about your body or compare yourself to literal firefighters. You are here to thank Buck. 

“Okay.”

With three more overhead presses, Buck lifts the bar and puts it onto the two black metal hooks. You can’t help but look at the muscles in his forearms as they flex under the weight… or the small beads of sweat that coat his forehead. The navy shirt he is sporting is different from the button down he was wearing in the field. He reaches for a towel, patting his neck and face before tossing it onto the floor by a water bottle. 

“I uh, brought coffee. My professor’s wife bought me a gift card to Dunkin, which happens to be two blocks from here. I hope this isn’t weird, but I just wanted to say thank you for that day. I also have this box of granola bars for you. I didn’t know if you wanted caramel or vanilla coffee, so I figured I’d let you choose.”

“It’s not weird at all. It happens all the time,” he towers over you, that irresistible smile still gracing his face as he joins you, “but thank you. Do you mind if I take the vanilla?”

You nod, shoving the Kind Bars in his direction. With your free hand, you grab the warm disposable cup.  Buck’s already opening the package of granola bars.

“Are you sure you like Vanilla? I really don’t mind either flavor, I want you to pick what you really want.”

“Wow, so now you don't trust me?” he teases, feigning offense, but his cheeky face shows otherwise. “I’m hurt… But really, I’m in a vanilla mood today.”

Vanilla mood. You try not to overthink that, as the tone changed from teasing to a bit flirtatious. Or at least in your delusional mind, that’s how you interpreted it. 

 When he sees that you have the coffee he requested, he shifts the opened box to one hand, wrapping his large hand around the cup. You know you shouldn’t be ogling him, but you can’t help but think how his hand would feel on you. 

‘Enough. You’re here to say thank you, not get horny’ your conscience scolds you.  

“Do you want to go on a walk?”

“Sure.”

He guides you back through the firehouse to the front. His hand is hovering behind you, and you tell yourself that he’s just making sure that you are safe. That you aren’t going to bump into anything. 

Buck leads you to the edge of the parking lot, sitting down on a small concrete edge encasing a small flower garden. As you sit down, he turns his body to you, giving you all of his attention again. This time his blue eyes on you leaves you with a different feeling- less sympathetic, more intrigued.

“So, how have you been?”

You flip open the small tab, letting warm steam out to cool the coffee to a tolerable temperature. Buck reaches into the box, fishing out two granola bars. You give a wide smile as he hands one to you, without protest this time. 

“I’m doing good considering the situation,” you pause, feeling a bit flustered as his eyes focus on your face. You gaze down, swinging your foot out of anxiety, “I’m supposed to see a therapist once a week now, but I feel like I’m doing pretty good compared to others. I’ve been back since, and I feel like I handled it well. I still had to lock the door to the office, but the therapist said being able to step into the building was a big accomplishment on its own. I’m lucky, I didn’t see much of the shooting, you know?” 

“But you went through the experience. You saw someone almost die. I’ve been through enough therapy to know that you don’t have to compare your experiences to others.”

“Yeah,” you take a sip of the warm coffee, watching as Buck puts the granola bar up to his mouth to take a bite. The bite he took was at least ⅓ of the granola, acting like he had been starved for days and this was his first time getting food into his system. “I get to teach Introduction to American Government until my professor comes back. It may be until the end of the semester, but I’m excited to be able to get some experience.”

“That’s awesome, y/n. Those students are lucky to have you. When do you start?”

“I’m supposed to start Wednesday. I have nine students online and eleven in-person, so I’ll be on Zoom while I teach.”

“You’ll do great. Are you nervous? You seem like the type to handle pressure well.” 

You laugh at him, leaning towards him. Your arms touch a little, and you pull back again to create some distance. The last thing you wanted to do was make him uncomfortable. You miss the way his eyes flicker, face falling slightly before he subtly shakes his head to clear his thoughts. 

“Surprisingly, no. I know the material and have always liked tutoring others. And the school has provided additional safety features for inside the classroom. So I’m ready to go back.”

“I’m so happy for you, y/n,” he pauses, looking at your granola bar. His fingers grab it, tearing it open for you. You’re taken off guard when he bumps you with his shoulder, tilting his head closer to yours. He raises his eyebrows slightly, a teasing grin on his face “is this going to be our thing, granola bars?”

You let out a giggle that would easily rival that of a school girl’s bubbly laugh. As you observe him, you notice the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles.

“What, you’re going to be carrying around a spare granola bar in case you bump into me ever again?”

He chuckles before turning away from you slightly. His legs stretch out, crossing his ankles as he leans back a little, his hands resting on part of the dirt behind him. You twist your torso to observe him, the sun highlighting his features, his blue eyes still locked on you. You breath hitches as he catches you staring. 

“Well, I was thinking that we could meet again. Maybe this time, for drinks?”

You’re completely caught off guard by his proposal. Would this be crossing a line, mingling with the person who sought to ground you? Who quite literally helped prevent further, long-term mental health issues by talking you down from excessive distress right away? There was no way that this was more than getting to know each other as friends, right?

You decide to keep it light hearted, showing your interest but not getting your hopes up too high. After all, maybe he just wanted to be friends. Right?

“So you want to share granola bars at a bar?”

You get a snort with a shake of his head. 

“I mean, if you want to, sure,” he pauses, his face softer this time. “We could go somewhere smaller, in a safer part of the city, if you want. Maybe a bar and grille so it isn’t full of totally intoxicated people.

“Besides, I can’t imagine how you may feel about bigger spaces at the moment.”

You let out a sigh, bigger than you mean to. The relief you feel is instant and unexpected. He continues to be a naturally caring person, considering a possible trigger of public spaces that may feel dangerous.

“I’d like that, Buck. When were you thinking?”

“Ironically, I have Wednesday off. How about I take you out for celebratory drinks and dinner after you’re done at school?”

“Let me check my calendar to see if I’m free,” you tease, pulling out your phone to unlock it. You open up your phonebook, pretending to scroll through as you create a new contact. “Give me your number, it looks like I can squeeze you in, Wednesday, you said?”

You pass over the device, watching as he enters his name and phone number. He pushes a button to confirm it before he takes it upon himself to send a text to his number. 

“There, we can iron out the details tonight,” he leans forward, stretching out his shoulders with an extension of his arms above his head. His shirt lifts up, giving you a brief glimpse of his abdomen. You know you shouldn’t have looked, but 

 Your cheeks ache from smiling. You can’t remember the last time you smiled like this within the past week, let alone for what feels like forever. Being a Master’s student, you have been running on autopilot, going through the motions. Yet Buck makes you feel like you’re alive again, light and almost normal. 

 “I should probably get back before Captain notices I’m gone.”

He stands, offering his hand. You take it as you pull yourself up, your smaller palm fitting into his larger, warmer one. Neither of you let go right away. His touch is so steadying, so grounding, and you know you should let go. 

You pull back with a reminder that he’s just being polite. Just being a gentleman

His facial expression changes, so small and brief that if you weren’t paying attention, you wouldn’t have noticed. Like there was something else he wanted to say.

Instead, he flashes that charming smile of his, head tilted. The sun hits his gorgeous blue eyes, causing a light glisten to them.

“I’ll see you Wednesday, y/n.” 

“Yeah…Wednesday.”

As you start to walk away, you glance back over your shoulder. He’s still standing at the entrance of the firehouse, watching you go. 

You face forward, biting your lip to contain the sound of excitement bubbling in your chest. 

Maybe, just maybe… this isn’t just two people getting to know each other.  

Maybe it had always been something more.

[mewtwobootleg]

aughhh…. I can’t believe just how fudging HORRIBLE this world is!!

I don’t understand… why like… people are so horrible!!!😭

they were given so much grace! So much love! But we STILL fudging hurt and hate each other!

I don’t understand why everyone says they want to hurt the current president… saying certain people deserve to burn up in hell…

whether you believe in the true God or not, that is HIS decision to where they go. Not YOURS! Love them, you’re no better!!😡

I don’t know why I’m here, what my purpose is, sometimes I feel it would be better if I was dead!

but no… if only we realized the love, the care, the goodness we can bring to each other, maybe you could make things better!

what good is it to love, when what you do helps you earn it?

what good is the knowledge that there is good and also bad? The fact that you KNOW that proves that there is HOPE!

I also don’t understand why people are always like; “God’s not real, we’re just here” THAT DOESNT MAKE SENSE! WHY ARE WE HERE THEN? THERE WAS THIS ONE BOOK FOUND IN THE JARS IN THE CAVE, THE SCROLLS THAT IF YOU TAKE ONE MINITE TO LOOK AND ACTAUKLY FUDGING READ, IT CAN HELP YOU! IT HELPED ME! IT MAKES SENSE!

All the other religions in the world… you have to work to get your goal. But in the Word, you get the free gift of Christ! It’s amazing! And even if you don’t believe, what’s the point of mocking a beautiful story? You’re just a hypocrite!

SUYHHSHSHA

It’s just… the Bible was written in a span of a fiew hundred years… and even in EVERY story… each whispers His name! even the ones written hundreds of years before Christ was ever written!

and also… why in those times of war, in times of things, why would people gather to write a huge story that all lines up and still is 100% preserved today when they had to worry about living? They didn’t say it was just a big epic… they said in every story that IT WAS THE WORD OF GOD! THE WORD TO HIS PEOPLE! US LOST POEPLE!!

I don’t understand… if you are one to believe, why would you say you identify as an animal or a demon or something? LOOK AT YOURSELF! GOD MADE YOU HUMAN. IF YOU FEEL OTHER, THATS WORLDY, SINFUL DESIRES! God gave you free will, to CHOOSE Him… so you would truly know that He so loves you. You were made in His image! To think that you’re other… it’s RESISTING A BLESSING HE GAVE YOU! When we turned away and did the things not of what the One commanded us to help us, we were choosing the wrong path…

This life… the way He made it and how I believe… it’s a test. To see if we will be who He believed we could be. He loves us so, and He wants us to be the fighters who build the new heaven and new earth. The ones to helped gather strugglers. The ones who don’t know their purpose. If you’re that desperate, read the Word! It actually makes sense, because we won’t understand everything an all powerful God does. It will at least give you something to do in life. It will give you the true fighting spirit.

I really don’t know much at all… I’m dumb… but knowing Him really changed me. It’s like a sheep lost… and the shepherd never stopped looking. He found me. I’m safe. The Spirit guided me.

It’s just… if you’re lost, hopeless, believing that changing your identity or gender is the right thing, believe me, it may feel good, but feeling guilt after doing something seemingly right means it’s wrong. And look to the Word… God made you YOU, male or female in his image, and HUMAN. We are all equal. Jesus came to earth to help make this test easier, explaining the right things to do, being a living, walking example to generations to come. It explains the mains, and the rest you can find. Seek… you’ll find.

It just… makes me wanna fudging cry. God sent his son to us because we were struggling, but we abused our helper, and even though He proved His power and love for us, we still hurt and hate him, confused and lost. He gave us his Holy Spirit to guide us in the dark, He gave us Heaven if we follow the narrow path, and most important, He gave Himself. And even now, when we need Him most, when we’re failing, we go to worldly things, when He gave us more than we could ask for, and we’re still denying His gift??

I know I’m just a little dumb 13 year old that’s wondering what’s going on and why I’m here and stuff, but I have this chance to maybe share my ramblings of what I believe and how it’s affected me… and maybe others will find the way too.

sorry…

I know this sounds like absolute crazy stuff to actually believe, but if you just… take a chance, open the Bible, read it… for me? For Him?

The next time you’re feeling down…pick it up, ok?

[lynnlyrae]

Oh look another over-rendered meme content- 

based on this TikTok but now it’s Rolivier and the ot4 mess going through things

[cowardlykrow]

"Hah, dude doesn't even know he's in my tamagotchi."

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

JoJo Siwa doesn’t deserve all the hate (and homophobia) she’s getting for her style and music; but she does deserve scrutiny for defending Colleen Ballinger and being both active and complicit in abuse that happened on her TV show. Like the girl has been under the public eye in unhealthy environments all her life; cut her some slack — not too much; she’s still a responsible adult — but if you’re going to dogpile her, then at least dogpile her for the right reasons. Jesus Fucking Christ.

[cappucosmico]

the most devastating shit on earth is that i had a friend in middle school who was like my ride or die. but her only "social media" was Google Fucking Plus. so naturally i have lost her in the wastelands of that shitstorm. but i cannot find her ever again bc she has like The most common name on god's green earth so one facebook search for people with her name in the bronx yields like a million fucking results. so imagine if she's not even in the bronx anymore. 10 million results

[pixelpaladin24]

|| The feeling of being able to post 💙Connor💙 and not feeling guilty about it oh my fucking gods I'll only look at the bright side of this situation like thank fuck i am allowed to feel happy

HHHHIIIIIIIMMMMM 💙💙💙

[vampzity]

Reps and Sex | BC

“Heart is racing day and night, for you. Don’t hold back enjoy the ride and let it loose.” — railway, bangchan

pairing: trainer! bangchan x f! reader

you always make sure to keep things professional between you and your personal trainer due to the differences in genders. but he makes that hard to do when things take a hot and steamy turn.

[warnings]: MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, dom! bangchan x sub! reader, praise kink, pet names (baby, angel, slut), thigh riding, clit play, yn begs to stop but it’s not in a harmful way

word count: 2.1k

“Just like that. Give me one more set baby.”

Chan watched you intently on the vertical chest press as the stack of weights lifted slowly, but surely. You pushed as hard as you could while trying not to strain yourself. Your moans and small whimpers felt like music to his ears, making his heart beat faster as he struggled to stay focused.

Easier said than done.

The way you pushed against the force of the weights, letting deep breaths out as the stacks moved up and down. How concentrated your face was and the way your chest puffed out with every push. How your face glistened with sweat from how warm you were. It turned him on in ways he couldn’t describe, through this wasn’t the first time it did so. Oh no. It’s been like this for weeks.

Chan felt like a pervert for the way he observed your body; the way your clothes hugged your curves, how plump your ass was whenever you squatted in front of him. However, your determination was the most attractive to him. You were so eager to please him, to show him you could accomplish any set he had prepared for you. The way you fed off of his words of praise. It left him with a feeling of superiority. How you obeyed him so easily as long as you received your praises.

Little did he know he was right.

You loved the praise. It gave you a feeling that you couldn’t quite describe. The pet names, the small placements of his hands. You wanted to be better for him, stronger, you wanted to work harder to make him happy. You were high off his praises.

“Chan?”

He quickly snapped out of his thoughts, giving you a small smile as you finished up your last set. He handed you your bottle of water, watching the way your throat bobbed with every swallow.

“You did great baby. Better than last time, I’m very proud of you.”

You blushed softly, looking up at his low eyes. It made him shutter at the way you looked at him. How innocent you looked below him, how pretty you would look with your swollen lips around his—

“Are you even listening??”

He did it again. He can’t help himself; you’re roaming through his head every second and it’s only dirty thoughts. Nothing else but that. It was only you two in that very moment, and god was he lucky that this gym was in his basement. He wanted so badly to resist you, but something in his mind ached, begging to be in you.

You stood up, eyebrows laced with confusion. You placed your hand on his arm, squeezing it gently as you spoke words his mind couldn’t make out. He was far gone in thought at this point, his bulge only growing at feeling your warm touch. Chan couldn’t do it anymore, he needed you and needed you badly. His body yearned to feel you.

“Fuck I can’t do this anymore.”

He grabbed your chin, pulling you to him as he crashed his lips onto yours. His free hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him. You melted into his touch, your body heating up from the way he kissed you. There was so much passion, but it was so heated, like he wanted more.

He moved his head and laid small kisses against your neck, earning small whimpers from you. Chan didn’t expect you to give into him so easily, not like this. He felt the way you yearned for his touch, how your skin heated up with every inch that his lips moved.

“More.. please..”

Your voice trailed through his mind, making his cock twitch. What a whore, you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you and that’s exactly what Chan wanted.

He grabbed your arm, pulling you up the stairs until you reached the living room. Sitting on the couch, he pulled you to him all while pulling your shorts down leaving you with nothing but your panties on. He pulled you into his lap, kissing your arm softly with his other hand playing with your nipple. Your skin was so soft again his lips, making him groan softly as he inched his way further up your body.

You subconsciously grinded against his thigh, your juices soaking through your panties. His hands held onto your waist, moving with your motion as you let out small whimpers of pleasure.

“You’re so desperate baby. I didn’t realize how badly you wanted me.”

He wrapped his lips around your nipple, his tongue playing with it softly as you continued your movement. You were so close and you could feel it— how badly you wanted to let go all over his thigh. His lips went back to your neck, sucking on the skin while his thumb replaced his place on your nipple. Your back arched, your pace quickened as you felt your high getting closer.

“C’mon pretty, be a good girl and cum for me will you?”

You couldn’t hold it back anymore— between the way he pushed your hips harder against him and his thumb playing with your sensitive tip, it sent you over. The rush came fast, leaving you breathless. Your face heated up out of embarrassment, throwing your head back in relief while Chan admired the mess on his thigh.

You were getting ready to get off, but he held down your legs, digging his nails only slightly into them. You looked at him, watching face turn from soft to cold as he tilted his head. A small shiver flew up your spine, watching as he leaned over to your ear.

“You didn’t think we were done yet, did you?”

You nodded your head, feeling his hand slip down to your panties as he played with the hem. He began to tug at them slightly, signaling for you to take them completely off. In the midst of that, he too pulled his shorts down, leaving him in only his underwear. He held you by your waist, his eyes widening at your glistening cunt as it hovered above his legs.

You pulled at the underwear, pulling his cock out. Your eyes widened slightly at the sight, now fully aware of what you were about to get yourself into. At that point, you didn’t care, you were already so far along and there was no turning back now.

You held his cock in your hands, feeling it pulsate at your touch. Chan let out a small grown, his head falling back as he bucked his hips against you. He yearned for this— yearned for your touch. He weakly held your hand, pulling your body toward him.

“Brace yourself and take a seat baby.”

His statement was soft, but pleading. His eyes were dark and hooded, filled with lust as he reached to kiss your arm. His lips trailed up your body as you held him under your entrance. His tip grazed your opening, earning a small moan from him as you sat on him. You clenched around him, pausing to catch your breath as you struggled to take his girth. His lips reached your neck, making the hair stand up as his breath hit your skin with every inch that you let in.

You grinded against him slowly, feeling his tip hit your sweet spot. His hands held your waist as his head rested against your collarbone, struggling not to take bites out of your skin.

“Fuuuck, just like that.” he groaned.

His hips rolled against yours, the fabric of his underwear brushing against your clit harshly. You sucked your teeth in pleasure, whimpers escaping your mouth. Chan looked up at you, smirking at how worked up you were ontop of him. He held your chin, pulling your face to meet his gaze. Your face warmed up in his grip making you stop subtly.

“Don’t stop for me angel. Keep riding me like the slut you are.” His free hand moved your waist, forcing a steady rhythm back into you.

“Wanna see your eyes roll back baby.”

Chan’s force on your waist fastened, catching you off guard as his cock hit your sweet spot harder than before. He thrusted into you from under, pulling your chin to lock lips. He kissed you harshly, biting your lip as you whimpered. He grunted into your mouth with every time that you clenched around his length, nearly pushing him over the edge. He could feel your heart beat against his chest, your skin heating up against his.

This is exactly what he wanted— to have you wrapped around his finger.

“Chan..” you mumbled, aching for breath. “Gonna cum.”

You continued to whimper, your movements becoming restless against him as his cock rammed into you, repeatedly hitting that same spot.

“Look at you.” Chan tilted his head slightly, admiring your pleading cries. “You’re such a slut.”

He threw his head back onto the couch, feeling his tip grow swollen at the continuous pressure. He felt himself leaking, wanting so badly to spill into you but trying has hard to hold it in. He wasn’t going to let you think two times was enough, oh no.

He had rounds to go.

Your pace softened, feeling your climax coming you wanted to make it last as long as you could. Your mind was hazy as you rode him, but apart of you wanted to stay like this forever. Chan picked up on this, rolling his hips against yours as his nails dug into your soft skin.

“Don’t toy with me now. Ride me harder will you please baby?”

You gave him pleading eyes, wishing he would just let you ride out your high. Unlucky for you, he wasn’t going to go so easy on you.

His nails dug deeper into you. He leaned forward, his breath brushing against your ear.

“You heard me right baby? I hope you’re gonna do as I say.” he laid a soft kiss against your neck before going back up to your ear.

“Cause I’d hate to have to show you some discipline.”

He held tightly onto your waist, gradually fastening the pace. Your hands rested on his shoulders, squeezing them as you felt his tip brush against your sweet spot. Your back arched with every time he moved in and out of you, giving him a sense of pleasure in your whining, in all the moans he received from you.

“Fuck, Chan I can’t..”

The pressure built quickly, faster than you could prepare for. Your head fell back, riding out your high as he curved his hips upward. He knew what he was doing with this, he knew how much more pressure it gave feeling his curve inside of you. It was too much for you, but at the same time you wanted more. You wanted him, you needed him. Your juices spilled all over him, squeezing his cock as you let your climax wash over you.

“That’s it baby, cum for me.”

Chan admired you as you panted for air, as your whines grew louder. He felt his mouth drool at your state, his thumb coming up to caress your cheek as he watched you bounce on his cock. He kissed you sloppily, your moans mixing together as you got faster, harder, becoming more cock drunk on him.

He quickly put you on your back, the sudden change catching you off guard. He wrapped your legs around him as he pounded into you, his moans becoming low growls as you continuously clenched around his length.

“Yea, you like that?”

You moaned in pleasure, feeling your eyes roll to the back of your head as he fucked you roughly. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to lock eyes with him.

“Answer me when I’m talking to you.”

His cold tone sent shivers up your spine, making you whimper a small ‘yes’ as he continued to ram into you. Chan’s groans got louder with every thrust, each one harder than the last. He wanted so badly to fill you with his cum and watch as it dripped out of you. The thought made his cock twitch.

“Fuck, baby..” He whimpered as he felt his high approaching, smiling as his thrusts became delayed. “Gonna cum in this pretty pussy of yours.”

He pushed one last thrust into you, filling you with his warmth. He collapsed onto your body, kissing your neck softly as he slowly pumped into your cunt. He sat up, pulling his length out of you before quickly stuffing his fingers into you, catching you off guard. He fingered you softly, watching as drips of his cum spilled out of you. You held onto his wrist, begging him to stop while his fingers curled inside you.

“Aww, all tired out hm?” he pouted, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

He pulled his fingers out of you, flipping you around into your stomach. He stuck his swollen tip into you, holding it there while your entrance throbbed around him. He played with your clit, humming as your pleading whimpers filled his ears.

“Lucky for you, I have ways to go angel.”

a/n: i’m literally addicted to railway it’s so bad like it made its way to my top songs for 2024 within 2 weeks LMAO

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@evidive

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[mrsbarnesblog]

blanket

masterlist

requests are open

summary: your innocent intention to sit with Rafe on the balcony turns into you being spread out on top of him

words count: 1.2k

warnings: +18❗️smut, swearing, fingering, manhandling, established relationship, very convincing and hot Rafe, slight exhibitionism kink?, dirty talk, pet names

You came outside from the comfort of the house to the huge balcony on the second floor, wrapped in a warm blanket, and found your boyfriend sitting on the couch. He was looking insanely good with his freshly buzzed head and arms crossed over his chest, which made him look even bigger. When Rafe’s eyes caught your sleepy and soft form, he smiled up at you, adjusting himself on the couch and reaching out with his hand towards you. You obediently sat on his lap, covering you both with a blanket and snuggling into his neck. 

“What are you doin’ here?” You whispered, enjoying Rafe's comforting scent and the silence that surrounded you. No one from his family was currently at home and you had been hanging out there since morning. Rafe, not bothered by anyone and finally completely relaxed, left you in his bed as you seemingly fell asleep during the movie. 

“Nothing, sweets. I thought you were asleep.” Rafe sneaked his hands under your blanket, wrapping one of them around your back and stroking your thigh with the other one. You were only wearing one of his big t-shirts that could barely cover your ass, and he could not help himself but slide his fingers to the line of your panties. Your body tensed at the sudden ticklish feeling, your eyes snapping open, looking up at your unbothered boyfriend. 

“Don’t even try it, Cameron. We are not doing it here.” You tried to stand up from his lap, but as soon as your body moved away, you quickly got pushed back. Rafe managed to manhandle you that way so your back was pressed against his chest, ass right on his crotch, where you could already feel his erection. “Gosh, is there a time of the day when you are not horny?”

Rafe never failed to amaze you with the way he wanted you all the time. At any time of the day or night, at any place, it was enough for you to just look at him a certain way and he was already all over you. 

“We are so doing it here…” His hot breath on the side of your neck and his gentle kisses on your tender spots caused your eyes to widen. “Didn’t hear you complain about my sex drive when I fucked your brains out... C’mon, angel, open those pretty legs for me.” Rafe ran his hands up your thighs, going right under the t-shirt to put it over your stomach for better control. 

“Rafe, no… This is a bad idea. We’re— we’re outside. People might hear or see us.” You pushed your legs closer together. As much as this thought excited you and you couldn’t deny already being turned on, you tried to hold on to the last strings of your common sense. 

Rafe cursed under his breath and you could sense the way his eyes rolled back in annoyance at you not listening to him. With a quick motion of his free hand, your legs slightly parted and it gave him an opportunity to hook them over his own and make you completely spread out on him. 

Thank God that you took the blanket with you. 

You gasped, realizing that you had almost no room for the movement and that you were entirely under Rafe’s control. It was not that you did not like it; in fact, all it made you want to do was grind on him to get rid of the sensation in between your legs. 

“Sh-h, baby. Just let me take care of you, m’kay?” He whispered into your ear and you had no choice but to nod. Rafe’s hand, the one that wasn’t wrapped around your waist, went up your leg until his fingertips met the wet cotton of your panties. “Fuckin’ hell. Acting like a shy girl, but your body betrays you, huh? Do you want me to fuck you here so everyone could hear us?” 

Your eyes rolled back, and your head fell on Rafe’s shoulder when he pushed your panties to the side, sliding his fingers up and down your pussy. He gathered your slik, then circled your clit and went back to your dripping hole, teasing you until your body became a complete shivering mess. 

Rafe didn’t give you any time for preparation as two thick digits slipped inside of you, immediately curling in a perfect way that made you see stars. Your back arched against his chest, and a loud moan escaped your lips before you knew it. One of your hands slapped over your mouth in a weak attempt to muffle your noises, while the other one found Rafe’s wrist under the blanket to hold onto something. 

“Yeah, that’s right, angel. Scream for me. Let ‘em know who makes you feel good.” His fingers did not stop moving in and out of you for a second, making the loudest noises that caused your face to heat up even more. You couldn’t imagine what people might’ve heard if someone decided to walk past Tanneyhill. 

“Ra-Rafe! I can’t, slow down... Too much– fuck!” You squacked at the feeling of the third finger slipping inside and the palm of his hand pressing on your sensitive clit. Your cries were too loud to try to cover them; your body was physically unable to function properly. You simultaneously tried to escape overstimulation and get more of the white pleasure that you were currently experiencing. Yet, all you could do was squirm in your boyfriend’s hands and pray that he wouldn’t decide to edge you. 

“Na-ah, look at you. All spread out, wet and whiny for me. Do ya think I’ll stop?” He gripped your tits under the shirt, playing with your sensitive nipples. “Taking my fingers like a good fucking girl... Shit, if you won’t stop moving your sweet ass over my cock, I’ll fuck you right here.” He growled in your ear. 

“Please, oh my God, Rafe!” 

“Are you gonna cum, my love? Yeah, do it right here. Cum on my fingers, so I could properly fuck you.” You started gasping for air; your legs were trembling and only stayed in place because of Rafe’s own, which were holding you. The mixture of his name and incoherent begging was slipping out of your mouth until you finally fell over the odge with a silent scream.

Your heart was pounding in your ears as Rafe continued to move his fingers slowly, allowing you to extend your orgasm. He then pulled out and helped to put your aching legs on the floor. Your entire body melted on top of your boyfriend, and you sighed in blissful pleasure. 

Rafe chuckled, caressing your almost-naked body under the blanket and kissing the side of your neck. 

“Now turn around.” 

Your eyes snapped open. He could not be serious. “What?”

“You should’ve thought better before coming here, lookin’ all soft and sleepy, baby. And on top of that, your moans made me so fucking hard that I can barely think straight.” He said, being dramatic as usual. When you didn’t make a move, Rafe groaned, cursing under his breath, manhandling you again. 

The blanket was carelessly thrown on the floor as your back hit the couch, with Rafe comfortably placing himself in between your spread and trembling legs. “Now show how you really sound with my dick inside of you.” He smirked, leaving no room for complaints, and finally connected his lips with yours.

[cherrixpie]

HOW NOT TO DATE A SLYTHERIN

part one of five

↬ being harry potter's sister wouldn't make dating theodore nott any easier - which was why you tried to hide it

↬ sfw; only fluff this chapter; wc: 3.4k; cw: none; secret relationship trope, potter!reader, griffindor!reader

( masterlist )

The chill of the night air bit at your exposed cheeks as you climbed the final steps to the astronomy tower, your breath visible in faint puffs. Winter had arrived particularly early this year, chilling your bones even now, on the last weekend of october. The school lay quiet below, the golden glow of the countless windows no longer having given in to the darkness of a cold autnumm night.

You pulled your robe tighter around you, wincing at the faint creak of the wooden door as it swung open by the push of your hand. You knew you shouldn't be out after curfew- your brother was usually the one breaking rules and making trouble- but the pull of him was irrestible. He, who’s voice cut through the haunting silence like a knife.

“I was starting to think you wouldn't show.”

You froze mid-step, your heart leaping to your throat at the familiar voice. Even though you had been expecting it. Theodore Nott was was leaning casually against the stone railing, his pale face bathed in the cold light of the moon that sharpened every dip and curve in the prettiest way. A light smirk was curling at the corner of his lips, his usual cigarette dangling from his pink lips. His green slytherin tie was loosened, his robes slightly crumpled, as if he’d wandered here on a whim rather than planned this meeting. But you knew better. Theo rarely did anything without careful thought.

“I had to make sure the coast was clear,” you replied, trying to copy his nonchalance. His dark eyes followed you closely as you crossed the space between you, coming to a halt a few feet away from the railing to keep some distance between you and the abyss. It was funny how you could ride a stick of wood regularly, tens of meters in the air, but looking down a great height with steady floor under you feet had nausea creep up your chest.

You tried not to shift under his prying eyes. Being eyed up by Theodore Nott was a rather particular feeling. Every time you met his eyes, you felt like he was staring right through you, blowing through every cover, every mask, every wall you had ever shielded your true self with and assessing it with disarming precision. As you returned his stare, his smile widened a little and he puffed on his cigarette. “You’ve gotten better at sneaking around, though. Tell me, do the Potter genes include an innate sense of rule-breaking?”

“And here I was, thinking I was your ‘good girl’,” you replied, quoting his teasing nickname. A rare laugh escaped his throat, more of a huff, really, that he hid in his hand holding the cigarette. You eyed it reproachfully.

“You’re going to die at a very young age, Theo.”

Slightly puzzled, he looked down at you, blowing smoke into the air and holding out an arm to beckon you closer. Answering the silent invitation, you let him nudge you towards him gently, the cigarette-free hand pulling you closer by the waist. “Is that a threat, cara? Because I could think of no better way to die than by your gentle hands.”

The charming bastard got a hold of said hands that were shivering slightly from the cold as you had forgotten to put gloves on, and pressed a gentle kiss onto your palm, carefully watching your reaction. You could only pray he took the flush on your cheeks as a symptom of the cold rather than your flustered reaction to his Italian.

“That's not what I meant,” you frowned, indicating the cigarette between his slender fingers. “What I meant was that you’re going to smoke yourself into an early grave.”

God, the way his eyelashes caught the few too-early snowflakes melting hopelessly on the ground. You gave a high-pitched tone of surprise when suddenly, he surged forward, pulling you even closer and trailing kisses up your jaw to your ear. “Tell me you’d hate that,” he whispered and you gave him an incredulous look he couldn't see.

“Of course I’d hate that!”

Before you could say anything else, Theo discarded the cigarette over the railing. Though you had no time to follow the tiny glowing ember on its way down, because just a fraction of a second later, his lips crashed into yours and you let out a startled squeak. Feeling him smile against your lips, you kissed him back in a weak attempt to take the initiative. He allowed you to play, but the movement of his hands, the caging of his arms and the way he beckoned your mouth open so easily proved his underlying dominance. Theo just wasn't beatable at kissing.

This was what you had been looking forward to all day, sitting through transfiguration, charms and defense against the dark arts, all subjects you had without him, stealing longing glances over dinner and quickly looking back as to avoid drawing the attention of your friends or brother to the silent exchange.

As the kiss got more heated, Theo’s fingers curled into your sides, spinning you around so you were with your back to the railing. Miraculously, you couldn't bring yourself to care. All there was in this microcosm of the two of you was him, you and the feeling of his lips on yours. One hand of his cupped your jaw, angling it slightly back to gain best access to your throat. As his lips trailed down the expanse of it, nipping, kissing and sucking, you found yourself snapping out of your theo-kiss-induced haze and pulled away aprubtly.

Panting, you covered Theo’s lips with one hand and he raised his eyebrow at you. He did that well, his eyes alone could make your stomach flutter. But you didn't give in. “Theo, what if someone sees marks on my-” You're were a little embarrassed about the subject matter, breaking off mid-sentence, and glared at his shit-eating grin, invisible behind your hand. “Well, I mean-” You were blushing. Oh god, you were blushing like crazy.

“Did you not enjoy that, cara?” Theo whispered seductively, carefully prying your hand from his mouth and kissing it gently. His eyes glinting with mirth, he looked at you challengingly.

“Of course I did!” you said, exasperated and embarrassed at the same time. You hated it when Theo took advantage of your unfamiliarity with intimacy and relationships. “But nobody can see!”

You expected him to tease you some more, so you were surprised when he merely breathed a long sigh and pulled you into his chest. Immediately, you buried your nose in his robes that smelled of him so deliciously. Smoke, old wood, a hint of mint, bookshelves. You felt him breathe your scent in as well, nose buried in your hair, and laughed lightly, but he didn't join in. His voice was a whisper, hard to make out.

“How long do you think we can keep this up before someone finds out?”

You didn't want to answer the question.

Something picking at the back of your hand snapped you out of your drowsy state. Still tired from last night, you had dozed off a little in history of magic, but as soon as you caught the culprit of the picking at your hands, a hardly suppressed smile pulled at your lips. It was a little paper bird, and the fancy handwriting clearly indicated it as a note from Theo.

You waited until Professor Binns turned his back to the class to write on the blackboard, before carefully slipping the note into your lap, shielding it from Hermoine who sat next to you, taking notes. When you carefully folded the note open, you were greeted by Theo’s elegant handwriting.

If you keep chewing on your quill like that, I might lose my ability to concentrate.

Your cheeks flushed pink as you glanced sideways at him, where he sat a few rows behind your brother who had his head buried in his folded arms, fast asleep. Theo was leaning back in his chair, his quill poised lazily over his parchment as though he had been diligently taking notes, instead of composing witty distractions. His lips curved into a light smirk when your eyes met, and he tilted his head slightly, as if to say, Well?

You hastily scribbled back, your handwriting looking sloppy and slanted next to his. Maybe I'm trying to distract you. Someone’s got to keep you on your toes, Nott. With a flick of your wand, the note floated subtly back to his desk, and you could barely contain a smile as his brows lifted in amused surprise before he began to write again.

Turning to the blackboard to copy the notes, you felt Hermoine's eyes on you and looked up from your parchment. She was eyeing you suspiciously. “What are you smiling about?” she whispered, sparing a nervous glance at the professor. “Nothing,” you answered, hastily grabbing the next messenger pigeon out of the air before it could enter your friend's vision. You could practically feel Theo chuckling at your unlucky predicament.

But Hermoine turned back to Binns once more to listen to his sermon and you stuffed the bird into your back subtly to read it after class and away from prying eyes.

“You’d be a half-decent Chaser if you didn't spend half the match showboating,” Theo drawled, his tone so casual it was clearly meant to provoke.

He leaned against the headboard of his bed, arms crossed as he regarded you with an expression that was equal parts exasperation and amusement. You, meanwhile, were sprawled across the emerald-green bedspread of his four-poster, arms tucked behind your head like you owned the place. At his words, you shot up immediately, propping yourself up on one elbow. “That's rich coming from the guy who winks at the crowd every time he scores- what’s that, part of your technique?”

The slytherin dormitory was quiet, except for crackling of the enchanted fire in the corner and the endless string of your playful teasing. Theo and you had the room for yourselves today as his mates were in Hogsmeade and Theo had stayed behind with the excuse of homework. As if he hadn't already finished all his work like the flawless O-grader he was.

“And anyway, I don’t see you scoring against Gryffindor’s defense without half your team clearing the way for you.” you teased, attempting to get a rise out of your ever calm and collected boyfriend.

But Theo’s smile only deepened, and he leaned forward just slightly, his voice dropping to a teasing lilt. “Jealous of my stats, are we, Potter? It’s not my fault you lot rely on your Seeker for every win.”

“You-” you started, your eyes narrowing, but his soft chuckle cut you off. You tossed one of his pillows at him instead, grinning when he caught it effortlessly. “Just keep laughing, Nott. You’ll regret it next match when I leave you in the dust.”

Suddenly, you felt his hand close around your ankle and shrieked as you were pulled towards him with alarming force. Before you could comprehend the shift in his behavior, he jolted forward as well, hovering over your body, sprawled out defenselessly underneath him. A light smile played around his lips as he took in your shocked expression with satisfaction and he brought a gentle hand up to your chin to tilt it upward, giving him access to your neck.

Theo dipped his head down to trail ghostly kisses down to your shoulder, muttering against your skin: “Are you sure about that, tesoro? Because I think you’ll have to work on your reaction time a bit before you can beat me.”

“Sneaky bastard,” you said, but couldn't suppress a high-pitched moan when Theo suddenly buried his teeth in your shoulder. Embarrassed by the sound that had slipped from your lips, you threw your hand over your mouth and blushed when he chuckled darkly into your neck.

“What, are you embarrassed?” he teased, looking up at you through his long dark lashes. Your pointed glare and flushed cheeks were answer enough.

When Theo broke out into a hearty laugh, you attempted to scowl at him, but it was hard when you were half in wonder by the sound of his laughter you got to hear so rarely. All the years you hadn't known Theo except for that one slytherin boy, you thought he couldn't laugh. When he did it for the first time with you, talking in the library over a muggle book you both had read and neither of you could talk to anyone else about, that was the first time you felt a flutter of butterflies rummaging in your stomach in his presence.

Awestruck by the sound of his laughter, you realized you had spaced out for a moment. Theo’s cackle had faded into a soft smile you could only reciprocate. His handsome features were painted with a gentle brush by the light of the fire. “You should laugh more often,” you said, not for the first time. “It’s beautiful.”

Theo hummed amused and leaned on his elbows to hover only a few inches above you. At this angle, his dark curls fell into his eyes, obstructing the view somewhat, so you reached up to run a hand through them. Savoring your touch, he closed his eyes and when he opened them, they held an implicit hunger that made you gulp. “I like your laugh too, tesoro. Love it, in fact,” he murmured, lips barely an inch from yours and you were itching to close the space in between. “And what I also love is y-”

Something banged at the door and both of you shot up, startled. As you stared at it unmovingly, the chatter of boy’s voices now unmistakably being heard through the closed door, Theo, the ever-quick thinker, jumped off the bed and beckoned you to follow. You shot up, heart thrumming with horror, scrambling onto your belly and rolling under Theo’s bed as far back as possible. With one quick glance to check if you were okay, that you answered with a silent thumbs-up, Theo got to his feet and walked over to the door, opening it.

“Theo, you bloke! Why did you lock the fucking door?” you heard a voice that sounded very much like Mattheo Riddle's shout. Several heavy steps resounded against the wooden floor and from under the bed, you could make out four pairs of shoes, undoubtedly belonging to Riddle, Malfoy, Berkshire and Zabini.

“I was studying,” Theo said, annoyance shimmering through his voice. “I prefer to do that undisturbed.”

You silently thanked the heavens that you and Theo had actually been studying before and therefore supplanted convincing evidence consisting of books and parchment. But suddenly, another realization dawned on you and your stomach curled with dread. Your parchment was up there too, with your handwriting and your name on it!

Theo’s eyes had also fallen on your parchment and he casually strolled over to his bed to collect it, concealing it with his and setting it aside. He felt annoyance rise within him and tried to keep it at bay. Of course his mates would barge in unexpectedly early in the exact moment he was about to confess his love to you. Clearing his face of any resemblance of emotion, he turned back around, leaning against his bedpost and trying his best not to worry about you, squeezed under his bed.

“You’re early,” he remarked, raising one brow. A memory almost made his lips twitch, of you trying to imitate the way he was able to raise one brow.

The boys threw glances at each other, some wary, but Blaise laughed. Only now did Theo notice his bleeding lip, and the others didn't look better of. Damn. He was really distracted when he hadn't even noticed it until now, when he always counted on his flawless perceptional ability.

“Who did you brawl with?” he sighed, though amused, looking directly at Mattheo who raised his hands in defense.

Draco nodded his way, dapping at a cut above his eyebrow with his shirt. “Mattheo picked a fight with Potter and some of his mates and we had to flee the scene before the old McGonagall caught us. Potter and Weasley got detention though.” He laughed in malicious joy and Theo's lips twitched slightly at the thought of you rolling your eyes under the bed.

“Potter’s sister wasn't with them though,” Enzo pondered, swapping out his slightly bloody hoodie for a clean one. When his head ascended from his collar, hair slightly disheveled, he was met with four pairs of raised brows. Well, three pairs plus one.

“What do you care about Potter’s sister?” Mattheo grinned wolfishly and Enzo rolled his eyes, chucking his bloody hoodie at him that got Mattheo right in the laughing face. Over that, he thankfully missed the subtle clench of Theo’s jaw at hearing him say ‘Potter’s sister’ in such an invidous tone.

Enzo, evidently, didn't like it either, which didn't help Theo’s irritation that he hid behind a mask of indifference. “She’s actually quite nice,” Enzo retorted, rolling his eyes at Mattheo’s and Blaise’s teasing whistles.

“Where’d you talk to her?” Theo asked, making his words sound so utterly indifferent nobody picked up on his sudden focus on the subject.

Under the bed, your heart did a little leap when you realized why he was asking. Though Theo was no outright jealous person, you sometimes caught him stealing glances at your male friends, voice tightening subtly when he talked about them. Anytime you teased him for it, he denied it, of course, saying jealousy was irrational and for fools because he knew you would never even glance at them. Hearing his inquire, you made a mental note to taunt him with it when this was all over.

“The library,” Enzo said, sitting down on his bed and taking one of his novels off the shelve. “I’m lousy in Arithmetic, as you know, and she isn't.”

“I’m surprised she even talked to you,” Blaise said as he magically fixed his lip in the mirror, making sure it looked flawless and untainted. “From what I gather, she’s the biggest goody-two-shoes in school, and a Griffindor ontop of that, why would she associate with a Slytherin?”

Enzo only shrugged, and Mattheo let out a loud groan as he longed himself at his bed that creaked under his impact. “Merlin, why are we still talking about Potters? There is so much more interesting stuff to talk about. Like what Theo has been doing today. Or who.”

He threw a teasing smile Theo’s way who raised his brow nonchalantly. “I told you, I was studying.”

“Yeah, sure,” Mattheo yawned, but kept his gaze fixed in his friends indecipherable expression. “You’re already five steps ahead in class, every assignment this year you got back with an O, what would you need to study for? Not to mention, you’ve been sneaking out more lately, and I bet it’s not ‘cause you’re dating Filch.”

Theo returned his stare unblinkingly, keenly aware of the fact that you were listening to every word. “So what if I am?” A slight smile graced his lips as he leaned his head against the bedpost. “Can't I fuck who I want?”

“Sure,” grinned Mattheo, unrelenting. “But you haven't done a lot of sleeping around for the last few months, from what I can gather. Seems to me like your man-whore-heart finally rests in the hands of only one unlucky girl.”

“Your audacity calling me fickle when you’ve slept your way through every willing girl in our grade is obnoxious,” Theo sneered, making the other boys laugh and directing the conversation towards the ravenclaw girl who’s heart Mattheo had broken just yesterday. With the other boys distracted, Theo dared kneeling down, pretending to tie his shoelaces while at the same time peering into the dark under his bed.

His eyes met yours in an instant as you raised your brows teasingly, and as he rose to his feet, Theo could hardly suppress a little smile that dared creep upon his face.

[shanieveh]

to all the boys i've loved before !

— genshin men receive your confession letter that you accidentally sent

he doesn't care (HE WON AT LIFE) - albedo, cyno, diluc, neuvillette, tighnari, xiao, scaramouche

His face, although one with his usual stoic expression was now screaming how God had blessed him and when you finally left, apologizing for the inconvenience and asking if he felt the same way. OF COURSE HE DID?! HE LOVES YOU MORE THAN ANY—

"Yeah sure you're okay I guess."

Nailed it. And as your flustered face starts to run away from him, he was now thinking what place will you guys settle in? When will he buy the engagement ring. You know, the expected. After all, there was no way he would give back the heart you gave him.

teases you to oblivion - childe, itto, kaeya, kazuha, lyney, pantalone, heizou, venti, xingqiu,

"Ho ho.... so you like LIKE me?"

He was hiding his red face underneath the words of teasing and fun. Yeah, he liked you back, but where's the thrill? A letter is just... well, a letter. He wanted to hear it from you, he wanted you to say it so many times for it felt like the blood to his heart. He needed this.

And although it may look like he was not taking your confession seriously, he does. Every word you said embedded in his head, and it's a crime for him to let you forget it. He plans to make you remember that silly letter you wrote at 1:43 AM for the rest of your life.

becomes a blushing mess - bennett, chongyun, freminet, gorou, thoma, capitano

When he read the whole thing, the happiness he felt turned to nervous immediately. What do you mean you liked him? Did the manifestations worked or something? Was he finally blessed with this beautiful angel after beng miserable for so long? YOU ACTUALLY LIKE HIM?

He wanted to party! No, but what if you decided to not like him anymore? After all he had many bad qualities. He was panting, frantically, the whole area heard it. YOU heard it. Will that make you like him less? Oh god... oh god... he was sure to admiring you from afar. But this?

"U...uhm I-I also feel the same way..." And with that he ran for his life.

thinks you guys are now married - alhaitham, ayato, baizhu, kaveh, zhongli, wriothesley

Oh so you like him? When's the wedding? He was now thinking of a designer for your wedding fits. After all, his partner deserves the very best. Do you want to be child free? Is there a need for him to make a planned parenthood account? What will your retirement plan be? Do you plan to be buried with him or separate? Thoughts like these raced through his mind.

The letter gripped by his hand, you were afraid to be rejected. And when you were about to speak and confront the silence he moved and folded the paper and put it in his pocket. Next time, it will definitely be a ring.

"See you at 5, sweetheart."

[iniquitousyearning]

SLYTHERINSLUT0’S KINKTOBER

october 8th. tom — somno / free use kink.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST. | 2024.

summary: tom riddle is a god at many things. you’ve never felt more alive than when you’ve reduced him to something lesser.

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, free use, sleeping kink, a lot of reverence for more biblical tom riddle that i genuinely need to choke me unconscious, PIV, fingering, multiorgasm, overstim, slight bondage, dubcon but not really i mean this fic speaks for itself. tom is kinda soft here???? what happened to me??

Tom Riddle, you'd determined, was obsessive before he was anything else. You saw it long before you knew him—intimately, at least—his compulsions, the meticulous way in which he carved out his time, handpicking what fit his ambitions best before pouring himself into them until he was empty.

Tom never moved with half-measures, a man that brilliant does nothing halfhearted.

You didn't expect to become his fixation—didn't know what it meant to be seen by someone who never stopped searching—never stopped dissecting—until the moment when his eyes lingered just a second too long and his hands followed suit—the moment he taught you the meaning in the only way he knew how.

Benevolently.

Tom Riddles need is tempered but there's always something burning underneath, something that flickers to life when his breath catches against your neck—when his fingers trace delicate lines along your skin—something that feels a lot like a thank you. The magical world gave him power—dominion—but in you, he found control. The kind you give freely, without even knowing it, the kind that he takes with the same reverence in his hands he applies to everything he touches.

There’s always been a mutal give and take between you—one formed without words and you solemnize this unspoken vow because he leaves you no other choice.

And it's not by force, not by demand, but by the sheer intensity of his regard, that sacred hunger in the way he looks at you, like you were made for this. For him. To be unmade, piece by piece, worshipped in the ruins of what you once were and stitched back together by his grace alone. When he kneels at your feet after a day that's worn him thin, his eyes sharp with exhaustion— when he spreads you open as though you're a book of scripture, when his hands steady you and his mouth finds its way between your thighs—there's nothing left for you to do but hold onto him. Your fingers in his hair, letting him take—letting him consume you in ways only he can.

He is both salvation and sin. Saviour and ruin. You're not sure how it's possible but he ensures you believe it.

And it started with secret moments—stolen glances, brushes of fingers, impromptu study sessions. But it grew into something more, and then something more still, until one day he's slipping into your flat as though it's his own, finding you before you even realize he's there.

You'll be cooking dinner and without a word, he'll flick off the stove with a twitch of his fingers—a breath of magic—his appetite insatiable but not for any caloric substance. You pretend, for his sake, to be surprised by his power, the way he moves without moving, but he knows better now—knows that nothing he does surprises you anymore, not after the way he loosens the strings of your corset with just a blink, how his teeth scrape your ear in a smile as he works a spell between your thighs. Not after he waits until you're thoroughly ruined by his magic—malleable just the way he likes you before he's merciful, allowing you the honour of his touch—allowing himself the honour of breaking you further.

There's no shock left in it because you've already accepted that whatever you think he's capable of—there's more.

There will always be more with Tom—a knowledge that is a sweet, endless ache. He is reasoning made lucid. You could never define all that he is capable of.

And foolishly you thought after all these years you'd have come to understand him, but Tom Riddle is not easily deciphered—he's a mystery even to himself, a disposition of contradictions. He doesn't need to be understood; he only needs to feel as if he is, to which you do your best. But when you're finally asleep after a long day and feel the bed dipping behind you in the quiet hours—a large, rough hand grazing timidly up your thigh, comprehension of Tom Riddle becomes even more of a distant accomplishment.

There is no logic in him when it comes to you, just instinct. No explanations, just need.

Tom has always had his compulsions, but you are his favourite fixation, and so you give. There's hunger, and there's devotion. There's desire, and then there's worship. You let him choose which ones he wants from you.

On this night you stir, half-conscious yet not quite aware of what's happening as his fingers move slowly, finding the heat between your legs and spreading you gently. There's never any urgency in his movements, though the fervour is palpable—a kind of feverish desperation thrumming beneath the surface, a pulse you can feel in his flesh, in the way his breath catches as if this is the only way he knows how to breathe.

Perhaps the only certainty about Tom is that you know he wouldn't be here if it weren't a necessity.

And he does this often, though sometimes it's more—the plush of his lips, the slick slide of his tongue—but this time, he chooses to wake you to the steady push of his fingers inside you, two of them stretching you, deliberate in their rhythm, curling deep, coaxing you open. It's his mercy, his crafted version of tenderness—you know he could easily just cast a lubing charm and press right in—but he doesn’t. He paces, he savours.

It’s a patience he continually allows himself which you know he doesn't have to give.

And some nights, when you wake to his touch—he whispers for you to sleep, to let him have you quietly, other times he'll make it clear that's the last thing he wants.

Tonight—

You shift against him, instinct guiding your body, but he hushes you, gentle, soft—a tut of warning, a shushing breath against your ear. You don't know how long he's been inside you, how long his need has burned quietly beside you, but by the time you realize, it's the wet sounds, obscene, that draw you from the haze of sleep, drowning out the sharpness of his breath. You're half-gone, face pressed into the pillow, drooling— and your lips part on a moan that never fully forms.

When your hand reaches instinctively for his wrist, his growl curls low in your ear—

"Sleep," if the command was a weapon it'd be a feather—he casts a binding spell on your wrists, drawing them above your head. "I've got you."

You swallow another moan, throat dry, choking on air as you fight to rip free from whatever remnants of slumber you're clinging to. His fingers are slow, pumping in and out of you, dragging you deeper into his need—and you're shaking in a way that is as involuntary as it is habitual. You know from experience just how much he loves this— the way he reduces you to fragments, the way he breaks you apart until there's nothing left but the shattered pieces of your pleasure—the mess he can make of you in minutes, even absentmindedly.

He slips an arm under your head, pulling you closer, impossibly close. The room is dark, and though you can't see him, you imagine his face—the hunger in his eyes as his skin sticks to yours, the hard evidence of his need against your ass.

"T-Tom—" your voice stumbles, a choked whisper of his name. His hand curls over your mouth, silencing you.

"Quiet," he mutters. "It's just a dream."

His breath ghosts over your neck, and your back arches in response. Wherever he was earlier, he came back starving, and this is part of it—sometimes he wants you silent, sometimes he wants you loud. Tonight, he wants you like this.

"Stay still," he murmurs again, and you shudder, your climax pulled from the edges of sleep by the slow drag of his fingers inside you. "Just a dream..."

A dream, he says—somewhere inside you, buried under a fog of grog you know it isn't, and he knows you know, he's not trying to trick you but it's all part of the game—coaxing—the way he devours you a little more each time, not just physically but mentally too.

With your lips muffled by his hand and his fingers buried deep, you do what you always do—you let him.

"T-Tom—" you whimper through the cracks in his digits. Your body is soft, boneless, melting into his touch, aching for more. "Please—"

As much as he wants you quiet he wants his name broken in your mouth all the same. He rewards you with a bitten-off moan, a crack in his control, a slight hitch in his breath—you clench around his fingers and his palm tightens over your mouth just a little too hard before he realizes and eases up.

You did say Tom's need was tempered—but sometimes, there are exceptions.

"I said quiet." His hips rut against your ass, fingers slow dragging at your walls, scissoring in your slick. "Let me give you this."

You push back into him, desperate, needy. "But—"

"Take it." His fingers on your mouth slide past your lips and over your tongue, reaching toward the back of your throat. Tears spring to your eyes as you gag, the sound smothered by the moan you make as a spell, swirling and tightening, pulses against your clit. "With the way I'm going to fuck you, you need this...you'll thank me later for it..."

Tom doesn't waste words. His tone may be soft but it's also sharp, which tells you everything you need to know—that he's had a wretched day and you're the only thing that can make it better. That he's going to fuck out his frustrations on you.

You moan around his fingers at the thought.

"You'll want to be nice and stretched for me, won't you?" A statement, not a question. "You don't want it to hurt. You know I don't want to hurt you."

Though he'll deny it, he's not as emotionless or as lacking in empathy as he'd like to believe. It's one of the many things you've come to know about him—or should you say, one of the many things you've struggled to understand about him—but the way he says it, like he's reminding himself not to be cruel—it's all very Tom Riddle.

"I don't want to hurt you.." he repeats in a murmur, as if he's trying to convince himself. You can't speak, though you're not sure you could find the words even if you could; the only indication you give him that you understand—that you hear him—is the quiet whimper that slips past his fingers. "Just need you."

The spell on your clit is as overwhelming as the drag of his fingers against your walls and it's only moments until you're cumming hard around him and he's groaning hard in return—you know his eyes are closed and you know he's inhaling every single sound you make as though he could house them in his lungs. The darkness clings to you like a second skin but Tom clings to you worse—not relenting even as you're twitching and whimpering with aftershocks.

"There we go." You're squirming and Tom fucking loves it. "Good girl."

Overstimulation is charging in—you have no where to run from it. You bite down on his digits in your mouth and he punishes you by intensifying the spell on your clit. "T-Tom—Tom—"

All he offers is a shush. His fingers curl deep.

"I need...I need you...need this.." he's mumbling, mantra-like, almost like a prayer and perhaps that's the closest he's come to one. You can count on one hand the amount of times you've heard him say it but you know there's no one else he'd be saying it to—no one else he'd want to. "You know, I thought of this all day...having you, like this..."

You sob around his fingers in your mouth as he rips another climax from you—you think you're seeing stars and you know if you are, they were hung there by him.

"Couldn't focus.." his teeth find your jaw, just under your ear, biting just a little harder than he usually does. "No matter what I did, I just kept thinking of this...of you...of you like this for me.."

Tom Riddle is a greedy man—in all ways—but he's not only greedy in the way he takes from you, he's greedy in the way he gives to you too, and though he would never admit it—he'd rather die first—this moment feels as close to worship as he'll ever come.

As you said, there's reverence in everything he fucking touches—you know you're lucky you get to experience it.

"You have this effect." He swallows hard, you feel it against your shoulder. "You have this effect on me...I—I can't stop wanting you-“

—and he's just a man, after all. No matter how well versed in dark spells and manipulation, no matter how cold and calculating he's able to be, beneath it all he's so very mortal. He tells you he was never made for love but when he buries his face in your neck and talks this talk it sure feels like maybe he was.

And all it does is make you want him that much more—knowing that you do this to him—you make him weak. You make him want and need and yearn.

"I don't even know what you've done to me," his voice is destroyed—his thoughts cut off by the evidence of your desperation for him, the lewd sounds coming from your pussy as you suck on the fingers in your mouth. "Fuck, you're so wet."

You groan, helpless and needy as a whore. Tom digs his teeth into your shoulder. It's all too much. There are many ways to come apart and this is Tom's only true undoing—in the aftermath of the destruction he causes, and you are—his collateral.

"Fuck—oh, fuck—" you're garbling, the words don't sound like words. "T-Tom—"

You're not sure how long you've been awake or how many times you've cum—how much oxygen you've inhaled since this all started but the one certainty is that you know Tom has very little patience left—if any.

"Fuck." He shifts, grinding against you. "Can you take me? Can you take me right now?"

All you can do is nod—your eagerness evident in the pace of it—drool dribbling down your chin and instantly the spell fades from your clit, his fingers pull out of your cunt and he's lifting your thigh up toward your head, fingers still hooked in your mouth. There's a moment of movement—trousers and boxers pulled down and then he's there—thick and heavy and warm between your thighs. You tense.

You'll never get used to the size of him. His ego made flesh. Though perhaps the greatest pleasure is in knowing he'll never get used to you, either.

"Gonna—gonna fuck you." He mutters against your neck as he glides along your slit—you're soaked, slick coating your thighs and the sheets and him but it never matters much because it always stings when he takes you. Especially like this. "It won't be soft."

You moan and he finally pulls his fingers free from your mouth, dragging them down to your throat, nails against your skin that feel more like claws because for all the human Tom Riddle is he's just as much animal.

He's never known soft—only with you—but you wouldn't have him if not for all his jagged lines and sharp edges. You let him take.

"Please, Tom-" words fail you, they always do when he's like this. "Please, gods—fuck me-"

Tom growls and it vibrates up your spine. You rarely curse when you can help it—so when you do, when you can't do anything to stop the pathetic vulgarities—he likes it too goddamn much and you know he's going to give you what you want because you give him what he needs.

A mutual give and take, as all the best things are.

"No god could compare to me." He doesn't say it with arrogance, just with certainty, like a letter he's written a thousand times. Then, he's flipping you onto your stomach, wrists still bound above your head as he lines up and presses inside you—all at once, deep and full and breathtaking. "Oh, yes—"

You cry out but it's muffled by the pillow, your cunt trying hard to adjust to the stretch—Tom is never cruel, but he is brutal, and perhaps the two get confused. There is a difference, though you know he would prefer to remain ambivalent on his own harshness, it’s the only way he's managed to survive this long—but here, with you, he thinks he can allow for a bit of mercy.

And he gives it, in his own way, only because you gave it first. It's as close as he'll come to offering himself without asking anything in return. To you, it's still a pretty close second.

"I'm going to make you feel this," he murmurs, lips against your shoulder, teeth against skin and if you had any tears left, this would be when they fell. "You'll think of this all day tomorrow. You'll think of me all day tomorrow."

He pauses inside you—he's taking it slow and the implications of that fact are far out of reach right now.

"I'll think of you anyway, Tom," you grit through your teeth, voice cracking on his name as he pulls out—only halfway—ensuring you feel that emptiness before he presses back in. "I'm—ohh—a-always thinking of you."

He makes a sound, a broken sort of sound, the same one you've heard him make only a handful of times—a raw, vulnerable, almost pathetic sound and all it does is make you want him that much more. He's still moving too slow, too methodically, drawing pleasure out from deep under your skin.

You clench around him because you know he doesn't want you to—he warns you against it with a cervix-piercing thrust.

"You're always thinking of me." His hand snakes around your throat, his lips to your ear—"and are you proud of that?"

You know that's a loaded question, the answer to which he doesn't truly care to know. But it's one you'll answer truthfully, regardless—because you know it'll affect him either way.

You nod, just once—and the grip on your neck tightens, cutting off an almost sob. His hips piston faster now, as though you've chipped off another piece of his control.

"Proud enough, then," he growls, his pace unforgiving, and that's enough to tear another broken sound from you—from the both of you. His fingers twist painfully around your throat, digging into your skin like a man possessed, and you know that means he's done holding back. His mouth is next to your ear, you can feel his smirk. "M'sorry—I'm—sorry—"

He says he's sorry but you know he's not. Not with the way he's groaning into your ear, not with the way he's driving his cock fast and deep. He is a manmade monster and a self-made god trapped inside a mortal man who needs so much to feel human. He knows to be nothing but intense. It's a wonder how the three can exist in him all at once.

"T-tom-" your voice fractures around his name, the only word you know now. "F-fuck—s'deep—ohh-"

His teeth sink into your neck as he cranks your head back with a pull of your hair, bared teeth on preyish flesh and you hardly have time to worry how deep he might devour because you feel his magic on your clit and you see those stars again—distant yet creeping closer, drawn down to your orbit by his power alone.

"M'sorry—" he mutters again, as though he was saying it to your cervix. "Fuck—"

You scream out again as the spell on your clit swirls faster—the sensation unfathomable each and every time—he's fucking you so hard you're burning underneath him and though the pleasure is as white hot as the flames that now cover every inch of you, you don't fear burning as much as you fear it's passing.

He's a fire in your veins, in your blood, and if he stops now you'll die of the cold.

"So good for me," he says, as soft as he can muster for being so lustdrunk— "so—perfect. You're perfect."

Perfect. You whinge and squeeze your eyes shut—choking on your breath. The words are more painful than his thrusts because time and time again you’ve failed to decipher their meaning—you know he doesn't believe in perfection, the concept too weak and foolish for his sake—but he's said it before, always in times like this—you are perfect.

You're perfect under his hands. You're perfect when you shatter apart for him, in the darkness, under the light of those stars he dragged down for you. 

"Ohh—fuck—Tom—" another climax wracks you, splitting you at the seams. "I'm—I'm—"

It feels like an earthquake and you're the epicenter, all the power and destruction Tom thrusts into you radiating from within you outward. His hand moves from your throat to your jaw, tilting your face back so he can kiss you, messily, open-mouthed and with teeth. But it's still a kiss. Something he rarely does.

"Yeah, yeah. Good—" he grunts into your mouth. "Mmfff—fuck—tight—“

A second later, he's cumming, a broken string of profanity tumbling from his chest into your mouth, release spilling deep inside you, warm and thick and he holds you tighter for it as you whimper and throb around him. Tom has always had his reservations. Always had his long list of fixations—and like you said, he pours himself empty into the ones he's chosen. It's in moments like these where you feel it more than ever—as his hips slow and his cock stops twitching inside you—the way that he's made you part of that list.

And when he's done moving through you—when he's done taking what he needs—he pulls away, yet he's still there. Freeing your wrists and rubbing them gently, curling you against him as you both descend.

"Thank you." He murmurs, face in your hair.

You tell him he doesn't need to thank you but you know it makes no difference. After all, he's still a man. A man with something to prove, even under a sky full of stars he dragged down for you.

Tom is a god at many things. You've never felt more alive than when you've reduced him to something lesser.