#hoping that dropping the class i wanna drop will help

[cece693]

Ok but like imagine both Billy and Stu with a big tiddy goth! male! reader as their roommate lol

Reader looks intimidating but is actually really nice lol

Looks Can Be Deceiving (Stu and Billy x M! Reader)

Hi! So I'm not really that well informed on the big tiddy slang (English is not my first language) but after a quick google search I think I got the idea????? If not, then I apologize, but I hope you enjoy this :)

tags: oblivious reader, realistic billy and stu (I think), pre-relationship, open ended, might be a part 2 coming

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher weren’t exactly looking for a new friend, let alone a roommate. They’d been fine on their own, thriving in the chaos of their twisted little partnership. But when the college housing office placed them in a three-bedroom rental with some random guy, they couldn’t exactly say no. Rent was cheap, the landlord didn’t ask questions, and besides, how bad could it be?

The first time they saw you, though, they realized this arrangement was going to be…interesting.

You were standing in the living room when they arrived, setting up a bookshelf filled with horror novels and occult knickknacks. At first glance, you looked like something straight out of one of their favorite slasher films—towering, dressed in all black, tattoos peeking out from under your sleeves, with silver jewelry glinting against your pale skin. Your undercut only made you look more dangerous. Stu, never one to keep his thoughts to himself, leaned close to Billy and whispered, “Dude, do you think he’s in, like, a death cult or something?”

Billy didn’t answer, but his sharp eyes lingered on you as you turned to greet them. “Hey,” you said, your voice deep and smooth. “I made brownies. Want some?”

Stu’s jaw dropped. Billy just narrowed his eyes. And just like that, their expectations were shattered.

Over the next few days, it became clear that you weren’t at all what they expected. Despite your intimidating looks, you were ridiculously nice—almost unnervingly so. You always smiled when you saw them, greeted them with “Good morning” even if they ignored you, and even asked if they wanted anything from the grocery store before you went out. When you weren’t at class or work, you were usually in the kitchen, baking cookies or meal-prepping while blasting Bauhaus or The Cure from a tiny speaker.

Stu was instantly smitten. He started following you around like a puppy, throwing his long arms around your shoulders and declaring you his “best goth buddy.” He loved pushing your buttons just to see you scowl—like the time he “borrowed” one of your necklaces and pretended he lost it, only to give it back with an over-the-top apology. “Don’t worry,” he said, grinning up at you. “I’ll make it up to you. Wanna watch a movie? I’ll even let you pick.”

Billy, on the other hand, was harder to read. He spent a lot of time watching you from across the room, his dark eyes following your every move. You caught him staring more than once, but he always looked away before you could say anything. Unlike Stu, who was all loud jokes and obvious flirting, Billy was subtle. He’d make sarcastic comments about your goth aesthetic, only to quietly leave a new horror novel on your desk after you mentioned liking the author. He never admitted it, but you had a feeling he stayed up with you that one night you were stressed about your midterms just because he didn’t want you to be alone.

Stu and Billy’s affections, however, reached a dangerous new peak the day they stumbled into your room at the worst—or best, depending on how you looked at it—possible moment. It started innocently enough, or at least as innocently as things ever got with those two. Stu had been whining about needing help finding a charger, and Billy, clearly annoyed, suggested he ask you. Of course, "asking" wasn’t Stu’s style.

“C’mon, Big Guy!” Stu called as he shoved your door open, Billy trailing behind him. “You seen my—oh my god.”

You froze mid-motion, one arm reaching for the fresh shirt you were about to pull on, the other holding a towel you were using to dry your hair. Time seemed to stop as both of them stood there in the doorway, their eyes glued to your bare chest. No shirt. No barriers. Just you, all soft curves and broad muscle, your big tits on full display.

“Holy shit,” Stu breathed, his voice tinged with awe. His jaw practically hit the floor as he stared, unblinking. “Are you kidding me? Those things are, like, illegal.”

Billy, meanwhile, was much quieter, but no less affected. His dark eyes drank you in, his usual mask of control slipping for a moment as his gaze flicked downward, then back to your face. He swallowed hard, shifting his weight like he was trying to keep himself from stepping closer. His voice, when he finally spoke, was lower than usual. “We didn’t know you were changing.”

“No shit,” you snapped, snatching the shirt and pulling it over your head as quickly as possible. “You ever heard of knocking?”

Stu groaned, flopping dramatically against the doorframe. “Aw, don’t cover up! I was just starting to enjoy the view!”

Billy shot him a glare but didn’t argue. He was still staring at you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “You’re...built,” he said, his tone almost grudging, like the words were being dragged out of him against his will.

“Thanks, I guess?” you muttered, tugging the hem of your shirt down and crossing your arms over your chest. You could still feel their eyes on you, and it made your skin prickle with a mix of embarrassment and something you couldn’t quite name.

Stu leaned closer, his grin widening. “Dude, do you, like, know how big those are? Like, for real? You could probably drown someone with ‘em. You want to try it out?”

“Stu,” you growled, your patience wearing thin. “Get. Out.”

Billy finally stepped in, grabbing Stu by the back of his shirt and dragging him toward the door. “Come on, idiot. Let's leave him alone.”

“But Billy!” Stu whined, digging his heels in. “I wasn’t done appreciating the—”

The door slammed shut before he could finish, leaving you standing there in stunned silence. You could hear them bickering in the hallway, Stu’s voice loud and animated as always.

“I’m just saying, those are a work of art! It’s like the Mona Lisa, but, you know, better.” “You’re an idiot,” Billy muttered, but his voice was tight, like he was holding something back.

From the moment Billy and Stu got an eyeful of your assets, the dynamic in the house spiraled into utter chaos. You’d barely noticed it at first, chalking up their constant presence to boredom or a newfound interest in hanging out. But as weeks went on, their antics became harder to ignore. The snarky comments, the heated glares exchanged when you weren’t looking, the way they tripped over themselves trying to one-up each other—it was enough to make even the most oblivious person suspicious.

But not you.

Whether it was the gym incident, the pancake debacle, or the never-ending movie night arguments, you remained blissfully unaware of the brewing storm. You were too focused on your studies, your workouts, and making sure the house didn’t descend into complete disorder to notice the increasingly absurd lengths Billy and Stu were going to for your attention.

It all came to a head one particularly tense evening. You’d gone out to grab groceries, leaving Billy and Stu alone in the house. The moment the door closed behind you, the gloves came off.

“Just admit it,” Stu said, pacing the living room like a caged animal. “You’re obsessed with him.”

Billy leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his expression icy. “Says the guy who’s practically glued to his side 24/7.”

Stu spun around, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You’re just mad because he actually laughs at my jokes. When’s the last time he smiled at you?”

Billy’s jaw clenched. “Maybe he doesn’t need a fucking circus act to enjoy someone’s company.”

“Oh, right,” Stu sneered, throwing up his hands. “Because brooding in the corner like some wannabe vampire is so charming.”

“Better than acting like a hyperactive toddler,” Billy shot back, his voice dangerously low.

The argument escalated quickly, voices rising as they hurled insults back and forth. At one point, Stu picked up a couch pillow and launched it at Billy’s head, narrowly missing. Billy retaliated by shoving Stu into the wall, and for a moment, it seemed like things were about to get physical.

But then you walked in.

“Hey, guys—what the hell is going on!?” you asked, staring at the scene in front of you: Stu pinned against the wall, Billy’s hand fisted in his shirt, both of them glaring daggers at each other. They froze, turning to look at you like two kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

“Uh…nothing!” Stu said quickly, plastering on his trademark grin. “Just some light wrestling. Y’know, for fun.”

Billy let go of Stu and stepped back, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt. “Yeah. Just messing around.”

You raised an eyebrow but decided not to press the issue. “Okay...well, I got pizza. It'll be in the kitchen.”

As you disappeared into the other room, the tension between them simmered, but neither of them made another move. Not yet, anyway. It wasn't until later that night, after you'd gone to bed, that Billy and Stu returned to their conversation.

“This has to stop,” Billy hissed, his voice low and cold.

Stu crossed his arms, still bristling from their earlier fight. “You think I don’t know that? But what’s your solution, huh? Scare him off so neither of us gets him? Not happening, Billy Boy.”

Billy was silent for a long moment, his jaw working as he mulled over his options. He hated the idea of sharing you—hated it almost as much as he hated the thought of Stu winning. But the alternative was losing you completely, and that wasn’t something he was willing to risk. “Fine.”

Stu blinked, caught off guard. “Fine what?”

“We share him,” Billy ground out, his teeth clenched.

Stu stared at him, and then a slow grin spread across his face. “Well, well, well. Didn’t think you had it in you to play nice.”

“Don’t push it,” Billy warned, his voice sharp. “This doesn’t mean I like you. It just means I like him more.”

Stu snickered. “Whatever you say, buddy. But hey, at least now we’re on the same team, right?”

Billy didn’t answer, turning on his heel and stalking off. Stu watched him go, still grinning to himself.

From that day forward, things…changed.

You didn’t notice the difference at first. If anything, Billy and Stu seemed to get along better, their bickering replaced with an odd sort of pact. They started spending more time together, which you figured was just a natural byproduct of living in close quarters. What you didn’t realize was that they were coordinating their efforts.

Stu would distract you with jokes and games while Billy silently took note of what you liked, using that information to his advantage later. Billy would lure you into long, intense conversations about movies and books, giving Stu time to swoop in with grand gestures—like the time he surprised you with a ridiculously elaborate cake “just because.”

If you were confused by their sudden teamwork, you didn’t show it. You just kept being your usual, oblivious self, completely unaware of the quiet, unspoken truce between them—or the way they both watched you like wolves circling their prey.

It wasn’t perfect. Billy still bristled every time Stu got a little too handsy with you, and Stu couldn’t resist making snide comments whenever Billy monopolized your time. But for the most part, they made it work. Because at the end of the day, they both wanted the same thing.

You.

And if sharing was the only way to keep you close, then so be it.

For now.

[fridayyy-13th]

siiiiiigh.

[tvrningout]

i just remembered spring semester starts in two days...

[orcelito]

Actually it is SO weird to me to remember that I was an engineering student and that later on I had been pursuing a minor in statistics

I may be a IT & com person in the end, but I do have the foundations of engineering and statistics in my brain too. Wild !

[ambersky0319]

Applying for jobs is weird

Applying for jobs is even weirder when I have passed the initial interview stage of a paid internship application

[bellflower-goat]

:l

[miniimight]

❝ I LIKE YOU... / I KNOW. ❞ your confession doesn't shock 'em one bit

with mikey, ran, rindou + very nervous!reader (toman timeline)

notes just a wholesome confession scene lol mikey's just as much as a nervous idiot as you are, ran is ... ran, and rindou is also an idiot . also i promise im working on requests i have like seven to work through sobs

it's not like it was hard.

he always felt your eyes on him: passing you in a hallway, in class (which he barely attended, but found himself showing up just to watch you suffer), randomly bumping into each other while out with friends... at first, he didn't care. he had a lot of attention going for him and he thought of you as another drop in the bucket.

but then he found himself paying attention to you.

when you weren't not-so-secretly pining over him, you were looking out the classroom window, a peaceful expression on your face that told him that you were about to fall asleep. or maybe you were with your friends, smiling widely as you exchanged snacks. or maybe you were giggling, your face on fire as your friends helped you craft some kind of candygram.

whatever he caught you doing, he found it endearing. and he couldn't escape it. but for reputation's sake, he tried to hide his adoration and amusement underneath his tough guy exterior. that quickly broke when you finally approached him.

your friends peeking from the hallway behind you both, you gently tapped his arm and your heart almost stopped functioning from nerves.

he cast an uninterested look over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. it was you. "hm?" internally, he was intrigued; he never thought you'd actually come up to him.

"i, uh..." you bit your lip, trying to shock yourself into calming down, but your heart still echoed in your chest.

"did you need something?"

"i'm sorry!" you exclaim suddenly, squeezing your eyes shut as you thrust the snack into his hand. "i like you!"

MIKEY

mikey's heart skipped a beat. "i know."

"uhm..." you whined softly, your body on fire. this was so embarrassing. "okay, bye!" you quickly spun around, hoping that he'd forget it the moment you disappeared around the corridor. he knew?! he KNEW? the fuck did that mean?? WHY DID YOU LEAVE SO FAST?

"wait," mikey's hand gripped your wrist. you squeaked and tried to pull away, but that only caused you to drift closer to him. his own face was dusted pink. "thanks for the snack."

you cast your eyes to the ground. "yeah, i know you're always eating it, so..."

mikey smiled, his grip softening into a delicate hold. he would never dream of giving up a chance to be with the one he'd been yearning for ever since he noticed your starry eyes on him. "wanna ride around with me?"

your eyes lit up and you sent a excited look to your friends. turning back to him as you both walked to his bike, you nervously asked, "so, you said you knew?" you asked, dreading the answer.

mikey smirked, his eyes lidded as he teased you. "yeah, s'not like you were good at hiding it."

"ugh, seriously?" you cringed, hiding your face in your hands. mikey's chuckle brought your eyes to peek over your fingers.

"it's okay, it was... cute." his voice grew quieter, like he was a little embarrassed to admit it.

you blinked at him before you truly processed his words, your heart bursting. "what?!"

mikey looked everywhere except you. "you—you heard what i said! just—come on." he grabbed your hand and ran over to his bike. his hand gripped the top of your head and you were so confused until he pulled a helmet out and slotted it over you. he clasped the buckle under your chin.

he stared at you for a moment before smiling with adoration. your face felt warm as butterflies filled your stomach.

"heh." he giggled, holding the sides of the helmet so that you couldn't hide your face from him. "cute."

as time went on, mikey wasn't so bashful when expressing his love for you.

RAN

he grinned. "ohhhh, i know." he dragged out his triumphant proclamation. "i know."

your face burned and you didn't know what to say to that. so, you bailed. "uh... okay? see you around!" you quickly turned. he knew? why'd he have to say it like that?

it took a moment to realize he was following you.

"so, where are we going?" he asked, tossing the snack package up in the air and catching it. "s'okay if it's far, i got a ride."

you stopped dead in your tracks, bewildered. "what?"

he cocked his head to the side, a calm smile on his face. "aren't we going out?"

you nearly screamed at the suggestion, not expecting this from him at all. "i—no??" you shoved your face into your hands. "i don't know!"

he laughed, captivated by how flustered you were. ran was a guy who liked to sweet talk and see his effect on others, and your reactions were just too good. "come on, i know you've been wanting some time alone with me for a while. you're not so secretive."

you groan and shy away from him. peeking from behind your hands, you meekly asked "was it that obvious?"

he grinned. "yeah. but all the better for me, right?" he put an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side and leading you out the school. "knowing i got a pretty thing like you thinking about me all day."

you rolled your eyes, finally starting to come down from the high of your confession. "it wasn't all day."

ran smiled, so tempted to respond with well, that was the case for me, but he figured you'd probably faint. he'd save that for the next time.

RINDOU

"i know." he blurted out before he could think of something better to say. for all the bones he broke, rindou's resolve was weak. but he was good at faking it.

he could tell you were confused, not expecting his response.

you fidgeted with your fingers before you finally spoke up, your face burning. "uh... okay..?" how the hell is anyone supposed to respond to that.

rindou panicked internally, rubbing the back of his neck as he sighed. "are you free right now, or what?"

your eyes lit up as your downcast gaze snapped to look at him. "i am."

a smile cracked on rindou's face as he chuckled with amusement. "then, let me take you out."

"really?!" sure, it wasn't the most glamorous thing to say, but you couldn't help it. you were excited.

"yeah. i mean, you did buy me a snack, so." he held up the package proudly. "gotta return the favor, right? come on, i got a ride."

you tried to hide how triumphant you felt as you followed him diligently. he was awkward, not possessing the same level of finesse his older brother did. like, what does he say to you??

"so..." you started, taking the lead.

oh, thank god. he let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

"you said you knew?" you mumbled, making a point to avoid his stare. "was it obvious?"

he smirked. "yeah, it was very obvious." you winced, but he continued. "don't worry. it was interesting."

you twisted up your lips in a cringe. "interesting as in a good way, or...?"

rindou racked his brain. ran was always good at thinking on the spot—what would he say? his lips moved before he could stop them. "interesting as in i couldn't stop thinking about you."

you both stared at each other—rindou in absolute shock of what just left his lips and you, completely flustered. your heads whipped away from looking at each other, lips pressed in a tight line as a million different thoughts ran through them. rindou was sure he creeped you out, but then he heard you giggle.

he looked back at you, reading every inch of your expression. you smiled softly. "that was so cheesy."

you kept on laughing to yourself, somehow enamored by his stupid line and he knew he was flying off the deep end.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part eleven

922 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten

Tuesday and Wednesday go much the same. Steve doesn’t watch Eddie at lunch anymore. 

That’s where Eddie does most of his staring, though. Steve wonders if Eddie felt like this knowing Steve was watching him. He hopes not. He feels like he’s on fire. In a bad way. 

He can’t help himself but go over everything he did, trying to find where he gave himself away, but he comes up blank. Anything he shared about himself in the notes could’ve been from anyone. 

He didn’t hint at it whenever he actually spoke to Eddie, either. 

The only thing he can think of is that he delivered the notes at the same time every day, barring the one time he was late. Eddie must’ve figured it out; saw him one morning. But he thought of that beforehand, too! The only door unlocked then is the gym door because no other sports or clubs meet that early. If Eddie were there, someone would have seen him. 

Then there’s art class. Steve gets whiplash from all the staring at lunch to business as usual in class; Eddie acts like nothing is out of the ordinary. That is to say, they hardly speak to one another, but when they do, they’re friendly. 

Come Thursday. Carol is out sick, so Steve has no distraction from the boy next to him. He can’t even try to convince himself he isn’t tuned into Eddie’s every movement. 

That day, the worst thing that could possibly happen, happens.

“Next to you, you’ll find your partner for this month's project. Go ahead and get acquainted, you’ll be spending a lot of time with one another.” 

The person on Eddie‘s left turns away from him to pair up with the person on their other side and Steve's stomach drops. He waits for Eddie to request a new partner, but he just drums his pencil on the table noncommittally. 

Steve would just put them both out of their misery and ask the teacher if he can wait until Carol returns to school, but he doesn’t want Eddie to think he minds being partnered with him, especially if Eddie isn’t going to be the one to interject. 

Steve has no reason to be upset with Eddie and, loath he is to admit it, he’d take any chance to be around him. Even now that he knows Eddie doesn’t want him in the same way. 

That’s another thing that’s been nagging him. Eddie was fine with H before he knew it was Steve - liked him even. Then the staring happened, and he took off the ring. 

There’s only one explanation: Eddie doesn’t like Steve. 

You’d never guess it, though, not with the way he turns to him and grins. “Well, would ya' look at that.”

Steve smiles hesitantly. “Hey, man.”

The teacher claps her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Alright, alright.” Once everyone has quieted down, she hands each of those in the front row a stack of paper to distribute to their respective columns. 

“This is the project outline. In a moment, I’ll dismiss you to read through it with your partner. After you’ve done that, you’ll notice there is a brainstorm worksheet on the last page. Now, you only need to complete one of these for the both of you…”

Once she’s done giving directions, Eddie turns to Steve. “Do you wanna read or should I? Or separately?”

Steve doesn’t even have to think about the answer. “You.” There’s not really an option there. Not only does he get to hear Eddie’s voice for a prolonged amount of time, but he doesn’t have to stutter his way through reading, or watch as the words seem to evade him? Yeah, Eddie can read, no hesitation.

Eddie nods and clears his throat before starting. Steve reads along on his paper and finds it much easier than if he’d had to read it on his own. 

The concept is pretty straight-forward. They’ll each have to make a portrait of themselves and the other, collaborating orally while not seeing the other’s work. Even when they’re finished, they have to turn in the projects without the other seeing. There will be an exhibit in three weeks before they go on spring break where all of the portraits will be displayed.

When Eddie’s finished, they flip to the worksheet. “Okay,” Steve says, “I’ll write since you read.”

Eddie hums his approval, and they get started. 

At the end of the hour, the teacher tells them to hang onto their packets and take a moment to schedule time outside of school to meet. There will only be one day a week dedicated to the project at school.

Steve clears his throat. “So, I- uh, I’m free most days. When works best for you?”

Eddie tilts his head to the side. “What, no court activities? Responsibilities?”

Steve hesitates. “You mean basketball? I mean, we practice in the mornings and there’s a game next week, but other than that…” Steve trails off once he catches sight of Eddie’s amused look. “What?” He asks, immediately self-conscious.

Eddie waves him off. “Nothing, nothing.” Steve frowns but Eddie keeps talking. “How about Mondays and Wednesdays, right after school?”

Steve chews on his lip before nodding. “Yeah. Where are we meeting?”

Eddie thinks for a moment, drumming his pencil on the desk again. “Uhh, how about we decide that during class those days?”

“Sounds good.” Steve holds up their project outline/brainstorm worksheet. “I’ll just hang onto this.”

Eddie chuckles. “Honestly, man, that’s probably for the best.”

twelve

tag list (closed)

@sofadofax @noodle-shenaniganery @queenie-ofthe-void @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @devondespresso

@dreamingtheimpossibe @plutoshelm @jaywhohasthegay @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie

@dreamy-jeans137 @justdrugsformethanks @estrellami-1 @travelingtwentysomething @sleepy-steve

@wheneverfeasible @bisexual-and-broke @lil-gremlin-things @n0-1-important @xxbottlecapx

@tinyplanet95 @dannys-guilt-ridden-cockroach @theohohmoment @corvus-perplexus @hippieg1rl420

@blurryjoji @bookbinderbitch @arthurianace @dragonmama76 @thesuninyaface

@tillystealeaves @p0lybl4nkk @sageclipse @mugloversonly @chameleonhair

@thedragonsaunt @yesdangerpls @sanctumdemunson @slv-333 @loguine-linguine

@resident-gay-bitch @anaibis @moomkin77 @thrashbatx @salchica

@flustratedcas @ajeff855 @nerdyglassescheeseychick @pearynice @imaginary-maggie-waggie

sorry if i missed anyone!!

[sturnioz]

about the one where fratboy!chris doesn't let shy!reader meet his family I THOUGHT ABT SOMETHING

sooo imagine chris's mom otp while he's with reader then reader gets her hopes up thinking chris would somehow mention who he's with right now but he doesn't and it ends up into reader with hurt feelings and chris just being an asshole like it's no big deal

i lowkey wanna be hurt rn GIMME ANGST

you're staring wide eyed at chris, completely captivated at the voice he uses to talk to marylou on the phone — his tone soft and gentle, almost childlike, and he grins at the words she speaks, his eyes twinkling with warmth, causing a smile to creep across your lips.

it's a side of him you've never seen before, and you can't help but feel a flutter of admiration in your chest.

as he walks around his room, his phone cradled in one hand and a pile of clothes in the other, you're stuck watching how tenderly he engages with his mother. his expression constantly shifts between playful to genuine care and adoration.

"yeah, ma. everythin' is good," chris hums softly, placing his phone on the desk and pressing the speaker icon, allowing his mother's voice to fill the room. "classes are good too."

"and how is nick? has he been over recently?"

"y'know nick would rather die than come into the frat house—"

"oh, chris, you know i don't like you saying things like that to me. don't say that."

"sorry, ma," chris apologises sincerely, and you're taken aback by the softness in his tone. it's a complete contrast to the condescending way he usually speaks to you, often laced with sarcasm and mockery. the apology feels so genuine that it makes your heart flutter once more. "he doesn't like it here. prefers to meet up some place else."

"as long as you're seeing each other, that's all that matters," marylou says softly. "'cos your dad and i were worried that you wouldn't spend much time with him with your new living arrangements and all."

"no, no. we're good, we see each other a lot," chris reassures her as he pulls his jeans up his legs, threading his belt through the loops. "you don't need to worry, ma. i promise. we're actually goin' to get dinner tonight. nate's comin' along too."

you knew about the dinner tonight — though you weren't invited of course, you were all too aware of the plans.

"oh, nate," marylou coos softly at the mention of him. "and how is—"

her words are cut off when the book resting in your lap slips from your grasp and falls to the ground with a loud thud, causing chris' head to snap in your direction, momentarily pausing mid-motion.

he then grabs his plain white t-shirt, glaring at you as your lips form a tight-lipped, apologetic smile as you reach down to retrieve the book, your neck and cheeks burning with embarrassment. chris shakes his head at you with a quiet scoff, clearly unimpressed.

"is anyone there with you?" marylou asks curiously, her tone riddled with warmth and inviting.

your heart races as your head shoots up, a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling up inside you. you take a deep breath, ready to introduce yourself properly, hoping to make a good first impression.

"no. just some dumb frat kid next door makin' noise." chris immediately shuts it down, his tone dismissive, and your smile immediately drops from your face, a wave of discomfort twisting in your stomach and chest.

the disappointment stings more than you expected, and you can't help but feel small under his words. you tune out chris and marylou's conversation now, the warmth you felt just moments ago fading into an ache deep within you. mindlessly, you flip through the pages of you book, the words blurring together as your interest in that simmers too.

you don't even realise chris is saying goodbye to his mom, using a sweet tone that would have definitely made you swoon if you were paying attention. you completely miss the heartfelt 'i miss yous' and 'i love yous' shared between them too.

it's only when you feel the bed dip that your attention snaps back to reality, and you raise your gaze to see chris sitting on the edge, pulling on a pair of white socks before reaching for his black converse.

"m'gonna get matt to take you back to your place," chris announces nonchalantly, as if his earlier words hadn't left an impact. "gotta go that way t'get nick anyways."

"'kay." you reply, trying to keep your tone light.

chris twists his head to peer over his shoulder at you, his fingers busy tying his laces. his brows furrow in confusion as he stares at you. "what?"

you murmur back, "what?"

"whats the matter with you?" he asks, annoyance creeping into his voice. "actin' all weird on me. quieter than usual—"

"why didn't you tell your mom i was with you?" the question slips out before you can even think to stop it, a mix of hurt and vulnerability lacing your words.

chris gives you a look that makes you feel foolish, as if you've just asked the most ridiculous question. "why would i?"

his bluntness stings again, and you feel a flush of embarrassment wash over you. it's not just the question that bothers you; it's the slow realisation that he doesn't see how much you wish to be acknowledged, to be part of his world in a way that feels meaningful — more than a casual hook-up, maybe even as a friend.

you swallow hard, trying to gather your thoughts. "i just thought... maybe it would be nice, is all."

chris shrugs, turning back to his shoes. "s'not a big deal, kid."

"it is to me." the words slip out before you can hold them back again, a somewhat desperate plea for an understanding.

"why?" he asks immediately, looking back at you once more. "it shouldn't mean shit to you."

"you know my mom," you state. "you... you've spoken to my mom before, and—"

"'cos that was your choice, kid. yeah? 'n this is my choice," he points to his chest to emphasis his words, the intensity in his eyes making your heart race. "y'want me to tell my mom that i've got some girl in my room? have her question shit? nah... i keep my family life separate to what i do here."

his words hit hard. you understand his need for boundaries, but it hurts to feel so easily dismissed, and the ache in your chest deepens. you want to argue back, to make him see your side, but the words catch in your throat and you fall silent,

[marypaol]

Copy Of A Copy

Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader

Summary: Whatever is drawn on your skin shows up on your soulmates skin.

Warnings: Annoyance, Draco being Draco, I honestly can’t think of anything let me know if you see something!

Note: I’ve been planning on writing this for so long and I’m finally doing so! Hope you guys enjoy. :)

Masterlist

Request Requirements

The pale fingers of the Slytherin carefully-but skillfully- chopped the ingredients for the Potion, trying to cut out the conversation of Potter and Weasley. They were clearly trying to keep their voices down but failing to do so due to Draco’s hearing abilities.

It was at that moment he wished he was temporarily deaf, so that he didn’t have to hear the bickering of Potter and wanna-be-Weasley.

“Haha! Look at Seamus, Malfoy.” Crabbe said, his big face scrunching up as his fat finger pointed to the clumsy boy across the room. Draco spared a glance, seeing the boy with a black face, looking into his potion helplessly as the explosion just occurred. Malfoy rolled his eyes, shooting Crabbe a glare before looking back to his task at hand.

But, when he glanced at his hand, he saw little flowers forming, the ink moist as whoever was drawing it was doing it in real time. Petal after petal appeared, forming a decent picture. He grumbled, grabbing the towel Seamus used to wipe his face and aggressively rubbed the skin, terribly smearing the ink on the back of his hand, the flowers mushing together, making it not look so decent anymore.

He flung the towel on the table beside him, and picked up the knife he placed down, going back to his previous actions.

“What now, Malfoy?” Goyle asked. Draco snarled.

“Stupid soulmate drawing on their skin again. Seriously, they can’t draw on a piece of parchment?” He complained, his chops becoming more harsh on the cutting board.

Goyle shrugged. “Unless they’re bored in class. What is it anyway? Little reminders?”

“No, course not! In fact, I’d rather it be that instead of rubbish drawings of dumb flowers! Look at that rubbish,” Draco started, repeating the word he said earlier with a bitter taste growing in his mouth. He showed the two boys what was left of the flowers on his hand. “Honestly, how ugly.”

The two boys agreed, but they had hints of smiles on their faces.

Draco noticed and barked. “What’s so funny, boys?”

The smiles dropped instantly on Goyle’s face but Crabbe still had a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Nothing, just that your soulmate draws on her skin.”

Draco squinted. “And what’s so funny about that? Enlighten me, I’d rather laugh than roll my eyes.”

Goyle shrugged. “Just that she must be doing it in purpose. Ya know, for you to see?”

Draco thought about it for a moment, ignoring the new lines forming on his hand.

“Why would I want to see this?” Draco wondered, irritation brewing inside him. “Especially on my hand, I don’t need it there, it’s annoying really.”

“You know how girls are. She’s desperate, man.” Crabbe jumped in, entering the conversation once he found out Draco wasn’t as upset as he thought.

Draco scoffed. “You know what, you’re right, Crabbe. She’s desperate for me. Doesn’t change the fact that it’s annoying and I don’t want it there.”

Draco then finally looked down at his hand, and this time he saw an eye with shading, the smooth strokes of eyelashes now forming on his skin. Once she was done, Draco saw more stokes forming above the eye, and, wondering what it is, leaned forward to see what she was drawing. It turned out to be an eyebrow, but the way the lines were drawn helped Draco see the direction the hairs were going in, adding detail to the drawing he didn’t know was needed.

He gripped the towel between his finger tips of his other hand, but he felt some sort of guilt eating at his chest for rubbing away such work. But he didn’t want to be walking around with silly eyes and eyebrows on his hand, so with unwanted shame brewing in his chest he rubbed the fabric on the back of his hand, the once was ink smearing, covering his skin in black.

The girl frowned deeply as she watched once more the drawings she made were harshly rubbed away. The ink from her quill was a black blob now once the person was satisfied enough. Satisfied that the pictures were gone.

Her heart sank in her stomach for an unknown reason.

Well, she knew the reason, she just didn’t want to admit to herself that what her soulmate was doing was effecting her in this way.

She shouldn’t be surprised that he rubbed them off; I mean, who wants to walk around the corridors with silly drawings on the back of their hand? She didn’t have a problem with it, but he clearly did.

After the last moment of Lupin’s lecture faded away with the bell she grumbly got up and out her things away, making her way to the bathroom to rub the ink off. (Despite the nonexistent problem with walking around with drawings on herself, she did have a problem with walking around with a big ink smear in their place.)

She bent over the sink, her bag discarded at her feet as she rubbed the skin, forming red marks in their wake. The ink slowly ran down the drain, her heart going down with it.

She wished her soulmate accepted her actions on showing she was there, existing, live and breathing, to assure them that someone out there wanted them. But was he just embarrassed? Did he not want her as much as she thought he did? Did he have an annoyance towards the whole soulmate concept?

She sure hoped not, because her want to show her love was strong, yet the want to receive it was even stronger.

She wanted someone to love.

That loved her right back.

Did he even want that?

“Any drawings today, Malfoy?” Crabbe asked, a soft chuckle escaping his big mouth. Draco snarled at the boy beside him, also glaring at Goyle who was making interesting-meaning quite disgusting- noises while he was eating the feast the house elves provided.

The boy who received the glare quickly composed himself, swallowing the large amount of whatever it was down his throat, a loud gulping sound heard around the table.

Draco glared again.

Finally he turned to the other boy who addressed him earlier and replied reluctantly.

“No. Thank goodness. I’ve been sick and tired of constantly having to distress my skin; honestly, the embarrassment of walking around with a red tomato colored hand.”

Crabbe agreed with a hum, in the middle of chewing. Draco definitely noticed him paying extra attention to the noises he was making, so he didn’t annoy Draco any further.

“Never mind that,” Draco said, pulling through Daily Prophet out of his robes, long pale fingers flipping the pages until he got to the one he wanted.

“Father’s in the paper, as always.” He said proudly, showing the two boys the picture of his father. “Oh! And look!” He added, chuckling madly as he pointed to the same article, the name ‘Arthur Weasley’ printed as it told a story about him.

“Ridiculous, honestly.” Malfoy muttered, shoving the paper to Goyle across the table since he was (according to Draco) taking too long to read it.

“Ugh, Care of Magical Creatures today.” Draco complained, looking at his schedule. “That silly Hagrid, honestly, I swear I’m going to die each time I attend his classes.”

Goyle swallowed again. “Seriously, how many times does he have to bring in a deadly creature that might chop my head off-”

“Well I would certainly enjoy that.” Draco snapped. Goyle’s cheeks turned pink.

“God this place has gone to the dogs.” Draco muttered, stuffing his schedule in his pocket, taking one last gulp of pumpkin juice, and storming out of the Hall, and without question, the two boys followed him.

“‘Ello! Please step dis way,” Hagrid said, large hands clapping together. Draco scoffed but reluctantly followed the orders.

“Taken’ care of- well more of lookin’ at interestin’ creatures today; take a step back now.” He warned. (Malfoy gladly stepped back)

The crates ended up being full of slimy creatures Draco ended up forgetting the name of, too busy trying to keep his fingers attacked to his hands. “Gross, Goyle you do it.” He said, handing the boy the food and watched as his friend gave the creature its supper, hands shaking nervously.

Draco looked around as Goyle did the work, folding his arms as he watched with amusement as the Gryffindors struggled to feed the animals.

He then spotted another Slytherin working alone, the back of her head the only thing visible when it came to her features near her face.

Two small braids were on either side of her head, easily blending with her hair but he could see the twisted strands in the sunlight much easier.

She turned so he saw her profile, and, from what he could see, her eyes were bright but hesitant, a look of disgust on her lips as she fed the creature. As soon as all the food was gone, she instantly dropped the tool she was using to handle the food and grabbed a rag, wiping her hands off even though she didn’t touch it or the animal.

It was then Draco saw it. The small detail on her left hand, as so his.

A patch of distressed skin was there, in the same exact shape as Draco’s. He found himself looking at his own hand, then at hers, and back at his once again to double check.

They matched.

They matched.

Which means only one thing.

The girl that he’s never seen before, which was quite surprising since he often told himself that he knew all the Slytherins, was his soulmate.

What was more surprising though was something much weirder and stranger. And that something was this:

The realization didn’t bother him one bit.

Tag list: @thatonepupkai @squishneon @buttersuaa @bxtchsimp @amayaaaxx @ssailormoonn @redvelvet103 @yasmine12xxx @youreyesareasprettyasstars @cassiethefab @iambored24601

Thanks for liking the post! (I will also be tagging y’all in the Harry one- let me know if you changed your mind about it and don’t want to be tagged!) :)

Skin To Skin (part two!)

[papercorgiworld]

Boyfriend material

Reader is starting the new year in search of a little fun and a boyfriend. Pansy helps here pick the right outfit and guy.

For Blaise, Theo and Mattheo this will be a two part ‘porn with plot’ thing. This is part one and holds the plot. No Enzo part two, because apparently I can only write so much smut before my brain goes brrrr. Sorry.

I added a part 2 for Enzo!

Warning: reader has a little dirty make out daydream. Slytherin dudes have some naughty thoughts as well.

I had fun writing this. I really hope you like reading it. Kisses.

“New year, new me. I’m no longer a boring girl. I’m going to find myself a nice, good looking guy and get crazy with him.” You started as you sat down next to Hermoine. She laughed in response. “You don’t need a guy to have fun or to be cool.” But before you could say anything Pansy plopped down next to you. “Yes, you do, so who’s the lucky guy?” Hermoine rolled her eyes.

You looked around the great hall and settled on a handsome sixth year. “Him.” You tilted your face his way, subtly pointing. “Ew! No! Boring!” Pansy spat. “What’s wrong with that guy?” Hermoine asked, narrowing her eyes at Pansy. “You wanna be popular, you wanna have fun, you gotta date someone on top of the food chain.” Pansy said as a matter of fact and Hermoine mocked the last words of her sentence.

You ignored the tension completely and simply asked. “Who’s on top of the food chain?” Pansy looked around to search for a good example. “Aha!” She said pleased, when she saw who just walked in and grinned at the girls next to her. “Oh no.” Hermoine sighed as she saw a particular group of Slytherins enter the great hall. You simply pursed your lips at the idea. But you brought yourself back to reality. “How’s a gray mouse like me gonna date the top of the food chain?” Pansy simply wiggled her eyebrows and Hermoine was definitely worried now.

***

The next day you made your way to sit next to Hermoine in class. With your skirt short enough to make you question its purpose and your shirt tight and revealing, you now had all the guys paying attention. “What’s this?” Hermoine questioned, obviously referring to your outfit. “This. This is my battle-outfit. I’m conquering the top of the food chain.” You replied with confidence. Hermoine scoffed and raised an eyebrow. “Then why is the top of the food chain looking at you like you're their next meal.”

You quickly glanced around the classroom, getting a little nervous, you softly bit your lip. You want to defend your case to Hermoine, but accidentally drop your quill. As you reach for it, Enzo beats you to it. Handing it to you with a sweet smile, but also giving you a cheeky wink.

Theodore, who sits next to Enzo, shakes his head and huffs. “Don’t fall for it. Pansy’s clearly up to something.” Enzo smiles brightly at his friend. “Oh mate, I’ve already fallen. Badly, madly. And it’s okay, you can leave your fallen brother behind. He’s going to a better place, somewhere between her squishy thighs.” Mattheo who sits behind Theodore speaks up. “Oi, T. slap him for me, will ya?” And before Enzo even realizes what Mattheo said, Theo has already given him a light smack on the back of his head. Blaise bites his lip and comes to Enzo’s aid. “In his defense, look at those legs.” Slurring the last word and leaning closer to Mattheo, his eyes never leaving your body. Mattheo pushes his chair a little and leans back for a better view of what his friend is talking about. Mattheo is definitely seeing something he likes, his eyes scan your body. His tongue gently rolls over his lips and he swallows hard thinking about all the noises you would make if he could have his way with you. “Mister Zabini, mister Riddle, care to explain why you don’t have your books out yet.” Professor McGonnagol asks, looking down upon the boys. “Sorry professor.” Blaise immediately reaches for his book, while Mattheo only looks down at his desk like a pouty 5 year old that just got caught.

After class Theodore lets out a frustrated grown as you walk past them in the hallway. You did nothing aside from sitting there and being pretty, yet you had him fantasizing about things that made him loosen his tie halfway during class. “I should’ve skipped class. I wrote down less than when I’m not in class.” Enzo looked confused at Theo’s statement, questioning his logic. Mattheo was about to say something, but Blaise interrupted him. “That simp! Look at him.” Blaise pointed at Draco shamelessly leaning against a wall trying to casually make conversation with you as Pansy tries not to laugh at Draco’s desperation. “No backbone, those Malfoy’s.” Mattheo scoffs. “Yeaah.” Blaise affirms absentmindedly, staring at you as you smile at Draco. Such a beautiful smile, but I bet that mouth can do more than just smile. Blaise was smirking as his thoughts got less innocent with each passing second. “We should save the poor girl.” Enzo states, pulling Blaise out his trance. “Yeah.” Blaise and Enzo quickly make their way over to you. Making Pansy grin at Mattheo and Theodore. Raising her eyebrows as a way of non-verbally taunting them: are you two really gonna just stand there with your pathetic male pride. “Tell me you have smokes. I need one.” Mattheo sighs in frustration after he finally managed to pull his eyes away from you. Theo nods. “Girls and their games. They’ll be the death of me.” Theo can’t help but take one last look at you.

***

“Pans, I really don’t think this is a good idea. Hermoine’s right I’m attracting the wrong kind of guys.” Pansy eyes roll up in annoyance. That bloody Granger-girl can squeeze the fun out of everything. “You can set them straight. Believe me, if you bat your eyes they will start behaving.” You make a face disagreeing with her. “I’m looking for fun, yeah, but I’m also looking for boyfriend material, they’re not that.” Pansy huffs. “You know nothing.” You frown in confusion. “Just play my game. You’ll get what you want.” Pansy starts walking again, but then turns on her heels looking at you still confused. “You are gonna have to pick one, preferably by tonight. I would hate to see the Slytherin boy band break up, because I really don’t think they can share.” You bite your lip softly and your mind wonders.

If Pansy was really speaking the truth and you could just have your pick. Which one? Him. If he would push you against this cold hallway wall right now you would immediately spread your legs so he could lift you up. Your neck and your jaw would be peppered with his soft kisses. You would wrap your legs around him and he would buck his hips into yours. Your mouth would fall open slightly because of all the sensations building up between your legs. He would mercilessly attack your mouth and his hands would explore every inch of your body. Squeezing your butt, making you instinctively rub your core against his growing bulge. He would cup your breasts, his thumb caressing your nipple through the fabric. “Everything alright?” Luna snaps you out of your wonderful train of thoughts. You look at her sheepishly. “Yeah. I better get going. Class, and stuff.” You push your thighs together, before fully letting go of your daydream. “I have those moments too you know, when I forget about reality.” Luna comforts you as you both walk to class. “Uhu” Is all you manage to say, not really knowing what to think.

If Blaise is you’re guy: part 2

***

“Your party outfit is a shirt?” Hermoine asks, not hiding her judgment. “It’s an oversized shirt, which makes it a dress. It’s fashion, Granger, get over it.” Pansy snaps. “You’re corrupting my friend.” Hermoine hisses at Pansy. “Oh, darling. I’m not corrupting. But some guy might.” Pansy winks, Hermoine’s mouth falls open and you stand there sheepishly looking at your feet. “I’m wearing shorts under this dress. So it’s really not that bad.” You finally manage to say. “Alright, let’s party.” Pansy says and she’s the first to walk through the doors of the room of requirement.

For Mattheo: part 2

For Theodore: part 2

For Lorenzo: part 2

[facioleeknow]

The art of pleasure ch. 5

Urgency ° Han Jisung

When one girl in your class makes fun of you for being a virgin at a party, you are left distraught. It's only natural that you decide to whine about it to your best friend, Bang Chan; but he does more than lending a shoulder to cry on, he comes up with a solution. He and his 7 friends will help you and teach you all about the pleasure of the flesh. What could go wrong?

Genre: SMUT 18+ ONLY, college AU WC: 1.6k +

TW: experienced han, inexperienced han, chan is naked but when isn't he, quickie, kind of public sex, creampie, cunnilingus, reader doesn't cum, changbin cameo and he is flirty

AN: thank you so much for the love on this series, I hope you enjoy this new chapter <3

“We should really get going.” The last thing you wanted to do was part from Hyunjin, his skin was smooth and warm. His hand gently and calmly caressed your body over your clothes.He whined, his head buried deeper inside the crook of your neck. Your hands creeped their way to the planes of his chests and gently pushed against his skin.

“Baby, if you wanted a second round, you could've told me,” Hyunjin nosed at the column of your neck.

“Don't you dare, Hwang Hyunjin, get up, we need to get going.” The boy giggled, you had never heard him do that, it was cute, you wanted to press kisses all over his face. But you couldn't, you needed to go back to Sigma Kappa Zeta to talk to Chan about what happened before the date.

“Any chance you could also drop me off at your dorm?”

The drive back was a blur and you were pretty sure you dozed off because, at some point, you felt Hyunjin’s gentle hands shaking you awake lightly.

“Thank you, Jinnie,” you yawned tiredly.

“Why did you want to come here?Did you forget something?” Hyunjin grabbed your hand and pulled you close to his side, he spoke lowly with his mouth close to your ear. His breath tickled your neck and raised goosebumps all over your skin.

“I just need to talk to Chan about something.”

The frat house was strangely empty, there were no brothers laying on the couches nor making out with girls. There was only one person, playing at the pool table at the back of the room. Changbin stood in the corner in all of his glory, his muscles flexed and moved as he sank every ball he hit. As you walked across the room and to the stairs with your lover boy on your arm, he raised his eyes and then winked at you. Your whole body felt on fire and your mind hazy, so much that you didn’t notice that you and Hyunjin had stopped in front of Chan’s room.

“Wanna stop by my room after you’ve finished talking?” a playful smirk on the boy’s face.

“I’ve had enough for today, lover boy. I’ll see you around.” Your hand was almost on the doorknob of Chan’s room when Hyunjin spun you around and planted a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I’m counting on that second date, pretty girl, please call me.”

With the confidence that the night with Hyunjin still floating inside you and with the warmth of his kiss spreading from your face to your toes, you knocked on Chan's door and entered.

Your best friend was blissfully asleep on his bed, naked with his legs spread out wide. A blood curdling scream ripped out of your throat and you quickly turned towards the wall. With your back to him, you heard a scream similar to yours and then a loud thump.

“Y/N? Is that you, baby?” He grunted, you were still not facing him.

“Why are you naked, Christopher?!!?” you were freaking out but the sight of Chan spread out like that, peaceful and naked had made you feel things.

“You know I sleep naked and you were bound to see it anyway,” he whined once again, he seemed to do that a lot when he was with you, “ come here,” he opened his arms even if you couldn't see him. 

“Chan I don't th-”

“Just hold me please.” You sighed. Why was it so hard to say no to him? Had he casted some kind of spell on you? Your jacket and shoes were soon discarded and you tentatively turned around and laid next to Chan. Keeping your eyes at an acceptable height was the hardest thing you had done in your life.

“You know why I'm here, don't you?” Even as Chan's arms circled you and his face laid on your chest, your voice remained steady. You were annoyed at him and he had to know.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have acted all jealous. I know that. But I never had to share your attention with anybody so I freaked out a bit.”

You knew he was honest, lying wasn't a thing between you two.

“Is that it? You wanted attention, you big child?” Chan giggled at the nickname, he would have killed anybody else had they dared call him that, but you of course were different. 

“Yes.” 

“Should I sleep here tonight and give you all my cuddles and attention then?” 

He tightened his hold on you and planted a kiss right on your collarbone.

“You should.”

“Alright, you should really put some clothes on tho…”

“Shush, it's just skin, go to sleep.”

The morning after Chan's annoying alarm blasted you awake. It was almost mocking, you and your plans of sleeping in for once.

“Chris why the hell are you getting up so early?” You groaned and pushed the heavy body off of you. He didn't budge.

“I need to go to the studio, we need to finish a project. Do you wanna come?” His words had an urgency to them but he still nuzzled his cheek against your chest more and refused to get up.

“Should I?” You muttered, already half asleep.

“I want you to.”

“Okay then.” 

Needless to say, you did not get to the studio on time but at least you had stopped at your dorm to change clothes and then grabbed coffee for 3racha as an apology. The studio was as you had remembered it, small and messy, clearly used by men as no woman would let it get like that.

“Hey guys,” you greeted the other two boys as you offered them coffee. 

“Hey pretty, I saw you with Hyunjin last night, I hope he treated you well, if not you can always come to me,” he winked again, it seemed like some kind of habit. You giggled.

“He did, actually.”

“Focus on the track, Bin,” Chan chastised his friend. He was jealous. Cute. You patted his head to reassure  him, he was special to you and you were special to him, and his whole demeanor shifted.

Han was weirdly quiet and just looked between you, your legs particularly, and the track on his computer. You knew he was gonna be there so you had chosen to wear shorts on purpose, it was obvious he had a thing for your legs and the others had noticed his weird silence as well. Changbin smirked, he knew how obsessed the younger friend was with thighs and yours were extremely delicious. 

“Hyung, we should go ask for more paper, we’re out I think,” Bin wasn’t looking at Chan but at the two of you instead, he knew Chan would’ve understood and he would've given you your time.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Chan patted your head on his way out. Han swallowed thickly as the door closed, leaving you two alone in the room.

“Do you want me to take them off, Jisungie?” you batted your lashes at him and a cute blush spread all over his cheeks and down his neck.

“I’m so sorry,” he spluttered and stuttered.

“I don’t mind, do you want to?”

“Yes please, oh my god, I’m so hard, I’m gonna die,” he blurted out with no filter whatsoever. You giggled again, he was cute and different from the other boys, you liked him. In one swift motion, you lowered your shorts and panties and bent over the desk.

“Come get me baby.” Han didn’t let you repeat yourself twice because as soon as you had laid your chest on the cold wood, he had kneeled behind you. He was gawking at your pussy like it was the most precious thing on earth; his admiring didn’t last long because he soon buried his entire face between your thighs. He was different from Minho, he was messy and clearly ate for his pleasure. His tongue never stayed on one spot for too long, he moved quickly from your entrance to your clit and then back and over your lips. In a matter of minutes your pussy was slick with wetness and his spit.

“God Jisungie, you’re so messy,” you keened out.  Han pulled away from you, his hot breath fanned over your opening.

“Baby, can I please put it in? I need it, so bad,” he whined and whined. It was like the roles were reversed, you were the whiny one usually, but you didn’t mind one bit.

“Go on.” Han scrambled to his feet and quickly lowered his pants and underwear. He slammed into you with force, his thrusts and his dick were different from Hyunjin’s; he went fast and hard, he was chasing his pleasure and his pleasure only and his dick was smaller but thicker, but felt heavenly nonetheless. Jisung moaned and wailed like a dog in heat, your pussy throbbed and dripped more and more with each sound and movement of his hips.

“Oh my god baby I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, please can I do it inside?”

“Already?” you asked out of breath, he just whimpered and nodded, “yeah, you can.”

“Oh my god, Hyunin was right last night, you got good pussy.” It only took him a few more thrusts from him to still and spill inside you. Your face had never felt hotter, they talked about you like that?

Han laid on your back, his arms circled around your torso, it was an awkward position but his weight on you felt comforting.

“I’m sorry you didn’t cum, baby.”

“It’s okay, you’ll make it up to me next time,” you smiled, your cheek squished against the desk.

“Yes ma’am.”

A sudden knock at the door shifted the mood in the room, Changbin and Chan’s voices loud and clear.

“You didn’t make her cum, are you serious?!?”

“Unbelievable, Han Jisung.”

@kflixnet

[asapeveryday]

The Last Time Pt1

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral sex

Summary: You rarely go out due to how hard your classes are, but a rare outing to a Halloween party draws you to a certain blonde’s attention.

Authors note: Not my first fic, but my first time writing for Paige, or writing anything on this app!!!im nervous asf but it’s okay 😇 pls point out any spelling mistakes pls I write these at like 2am.

Minors DNI beyond the cut!!

The house was one of the massive ones off campus, white picket fences and a big kitchen perfect for partygoers to escape the loud music. Fall had turned the hot, humid and vibrant summer nights into colder ones. Streets were littered with brown and orange leaves, and houses decorated with cobwebs and blow-up ghosts.

Your friends were used to going out for Halloween parties, but you never really bothered. Your classes just got harder by the year, so you always put off a long night out. To you it was worth it, because your grades were top 3 in your program.

“When was the last time you even got laid?” Your best friend asks you.

You shrug. “I dunno. July?”

“Whatever.” She sighs, realizing it wasn’t as bad as she thought. “Still, that’s like almost 3 months of no puss. Please just come to this party, it’ll be fun!” She whines.

“Isn’t it early for a Halloween party? It’s only the 20th. We still have a week. Plus, I don’t have a costume.” You say, hoping she’ll let you stay home.

“You don’t understand, this is massive. A Halloween-birthday-party is not one that you wanna miss” She beams at you. “And I have a basketball jersey you can wear for the night. Wear shorts with it, be sexy.”

“Shorts?? It’s October!” You groan.

Regardless, you found yourself inside of this house. Your friend wasn’t lying when she said this was a pretty big party, with all the people shoving up against you it was uncomfortable to be in in your sleeveless jersey and black shorts. The kitchen was slightly less rowdy so you started to search the fridge for some comfort in the form of food or alcohol before you heard a cough behind you.

“Yo.”

You turn only to find yourself having to look up at a much taller girl. Her blonde hair was long and down on her shoulders, except for the front pieces which were Dutch-braided closer to her head. She was wearing a really casual outfit, a matching Nike tracksuit. The only thing remotely Halloween-y thing on her was the pair of fake Angel wings on her back.

“Nice costume.” You almost scoff.

“You can’t be talkin. What are you, a fangirl?” She looks down at you. Her eyes are so blue you almost stumble backwards into to fridge.

“Fair.” You sheepishly smile at her. “It was really last minute, this isn’t even my jersey.”

“That’s cus it’s mine.” The mystery blonde laughs.

Immediately you look down at yourself, a white number 5 is sprawled against the navy fabric of the women’s basketball jersey you borrowed. You look up at the blonde again and your face drops.

“Oh shit! You’re-“

“Paige.” She finishes your sentence. “Not a basketball fan?”

“Not really.” You smile. You tell her your name and she repeats it back to you with a smirk that you feel straight in your gut. You’ve rarely seen Paige on campus, so having her right in front of you has helped you realize just how fine she really is.

“The jersey looks good on you.” Her eyes sweep throughout your body.

“You don’t come off as much of an Angel to me.” You raise your eyebrow at her, referring to her half-assed costume. You haven’t heard too many rumours about Paige Bueckers sex life, but you can just tell by her silent confidence, the way she stands and even just the way she looks at you that she gets around. Being a D1 athlete probably helps too.

“You’ll see for yourself soon enough.” She shrugs, maintaining eye contact with you.

“So Paige, is this your place or..”

“Nah. My friends threw this party as a surprise for me. Not even sure who’s crib this is but whatever.” She rubs the back of her neck. “You didn’t come with a gift, did you?” Paige asks.

“No, was I supposed to?”

“It’s my birthday ma, I think you owe me something.” She steps closer, looking at you through her long eyelashes.

You actually feel your heart drop to your ass at this point, and she can tell. Paige cocks her head to the staircase nearby and you almost run after her when she leads you upstairs.

You’re already making out by the time you crash into a bedroom, she slams the door shut and pushes you up against it. You almost faint when you feel her knee between your legs, applying pressure to your clit. She kisses you slowly, taking her time to memorize the feeling of her hands grazing your face, then trailing down your body and finding themselves inside the jersey. Her blonde hair tickles your neck as she starts to trail her kisses downwards.

Paige’s hands trail from your abdomen to your hips, roughly pulling your shorts down and kneeling to be face to face with your heat. You resist the urge to cover yourself from her, and can’t help but think about how awkward you must look from this angle, but she doesn’t seem to care. Gripping your thighs and looking up at you with her ice-blue eyes, she licks a slow stripe onto your already wet undies, chuckling when you shudder.

Pulling your underwear to the side with one hand, she slowly eases her finger inside of you and you throw your head back with a breathy moan that makes her smile. She sucks at your clit while adding another finger, then pumping into you almost on beat to the music blasting downstairs. Her tongue is insane to you, circling your clit so skillfully while curling her fingers inside of you, your knees almost buckle and your hands find her long hair, pushing her head. “Oh my god.” You breathe out. “I’m close.”

“Already?” Paige chuckles into you. When she removes her fingers and quickly replaces them with her mouth, lapping and licking inside of you you almost scream. The vibrations from her voice huffing around you are enough for you to feel that tight, building feeling in your stomach, and you cum right there and then.

She cleans whatever she can before pulling up your shorts for you and kissing you chastely, enough so you can taste yourself on her lips. When she pulls away you slump to the floor, legs twitching.

“Shit!” You embarrassedly mumble. Paige laughs and sits next to you. With both of your backs to the door you turn your head to meet her stare. “Happy birthday.” You laugh. She rubs her face, hiding her smile. “Pfft, thanks.”

“I thought I was supposed to gift you? You just gave me like, the best head I’ve had since I started college.”

“Seeing you fall to the ground at my head game is enough of a gift for me.” She shrugs, a smug look on her face. “Plus, there’s always next time if you wanna make it up to me.”

The two of you exchange numbers, the situation is so unreal to you that you’re convinced this is all some mistake.

“Did you even plan on hooking up with someone tonight?” You ask her suddenly, and she seems surprised at your honesty.

“Uhh…I’m not gonna lie, not really. This party was a surprise, remember?” She sighs. “I think seeing some cute girl in my jersey, totally oblivious, jus did something to me.”

You raise your eyebrow. “You didn’t even get to see what was under it.”

“Don’t tempt me, woman.” She laughs. “I’m exhausted, giving ankle-breaking head does that to you.”

“Shut up.” You say, shoving her lightly.

There’s a pause before you take a chance and say “There’s a good burger place nearby if you want to recharge a bit.”

The minute you say it you regret it. Paige Bueckers was in no hurry to get upstairs with you, there’s no way she’s gonna take you out for food too. Plus, since when did you go out with girls you met at parties?

She looks at you for a second, considering you. Finally she says “Fuck it, why not.”

Paige gets up and you follow after her lead. She laughs at the way you walk down the stairs and the two of you slip out of the house as sneakily as possible. Paige offers to drive you even though it was your suggestion. “What can I say, I love my car.” She smiles.

The burgers are good and her laugh is contagious. The two of you sit in her car while you eat, she almost screams when you steal a fry and you pretend to be annoyed when she takes a sip of your drink in retaliation.

You feel so nervous being around her, Paige seems so sure of herself. You can tell she already knows what she wants out of college, out of basketball, even out of girls. Sometimes, even though you devoted so much time to preforming well academically, you weren’t entirely sure it was all gonna work out for you. You feared all your hard work wouldn’t be worth it in the end.

After a moment of silence, you ask her “Does it ever freak you out, having so many people betting on your success? If I were you I’d be so scared of letting people down.” You disguise your own fear as a question for her. Paige looks at you for a moment, then smiles.

“Yeah, It does. I’ve already had moments where it felt like I let everyone down.” She says, looking down at her leg. “But no success comes without pressure, so I guess feeling that way is more of a blessing from God than anything. It’s like He’s reminding me of everything I have to lose. Ion’ think there’s much wrong with that.”

You’re surprised at how mature her answer is. “There’s no way you’re talking about God after you just gave head to a stranger.” You laugh.

She shrugs, a guilty but satisfied look on her face. “You’re not human if you don’t sin once in a while.”

“Amen.” You smile.

The two of you talk about stupid things until it’s well past midnight, and when she drops you off at your dorm you turn to say “I had more fun then I thought I would tonight.”

Paige smiles, her blue eyes staring holes into yours. “It won’t be the last time you have fun with me.” She says, laughing to herself.

“Shut up.” You nudge her. She shakes her head, and waves at you when you start to walk to your building.

You turn to wave back. Even though you know you can’t be anything serious with Paige, you can’t ignore the warm feeling in your stomach when you think about the night you shared. You seriously hope it won’t be the last time.

[blitzyn]

a different method final pt

teacher!zhongli x m!reader

request: drop by to ask will there ever be a chance for part 3 with teacher zhongli? i dont know man. him and reader are so cute together. maybe i am crazy??? wanna see reader actually tries his best and gets his reward-

part one | part two

a/n -> oh my god i need francis mosses and wriothesley to fuck me right this INSTANT

wc -> 4k

cw -> praise, anal fingering, anal sex, mating press, desk sex, semi-public sex, teacher zhongli, student reader, not beta read

You were nervous. Jitters ran along the length of your spine and pooled in your chest, leaving a deep cavity that filled with anxiety. Why were you so anxious in the first place? It’s just a test. You’ve taken plenty of them during the course of your life.

You tried to play it cool, masking your face with a facade of nonchalance, hoping no one could see how clammy your hands were getting or your heartbeat, or the sweat rolling down—oh god was someone looking at you? Could they see through you? What if they could read your mind? Did they know that you were secretly trying to get your teacher to fuck you again?

You forced to stop yourself from physically deflating in relief when they looked away. Seemed like they were just looking around the room in an attempt to search for a hint or an answer to the question they were on. Right. The test. You’d finished it not too long ago, and now you were in the overthinking stage, wondering if you could’ve worded something better or if a different answer was right, but you forced yourself to calm the fuck down. You studied for this (surprisingly) and you were sure that at least half of your answers were correct. Hopefully.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard your teacher speak, notifying the class that there was five minutes left, and you could see a few write faster as they tried to finish on time. Those five minutes felt like an eternity, watching the agonizingly slow ticking of the clock above the door leisurely make its way to four, then three, then two, one… thirty seconds, and…

Finally!

You took your time packing up, watching your classmates rush out of the door, eager to leave the boring room. It wasn’t until the last person made their way out did you walk up to your teacher’s desk, fiddling with the strap of your bag.

“May I help you?” He questioned, offering you a brief glance as he reached over to grab the pile of test papers. It was frustrating how he could just ignore your past… ordeals like they were nothing, but you were determined to claim your keep.

“Can you, uh, grade my paper? Now, I mean,” you requested, trying to fight off your growing eagerness, but it seemed that it didn’t matter when he quirked an eyebrow. He gave you an unconvinced look, leaning back on his chair to properly look at you, searching your eyes for something. “Please,” you hastily added, hoping it’d be enough to convince him.

“Why not wait until next week?” He seemed to have found what he was looking for as he relaxed his expression, crossing his arms across his chest. “Is there something urgent?”

“No, it’s just…” you trailed off, pursing your lips. You weren’t sure how to explain without sound too eager, but you were almost ninety percent sure he knew why you wanted him to grade it now. “I wanna see how I did. ‘Cause… I studied this time. So…”

An intrigued glint shone in his golden eyes, and his head bobbed in a slow, understanding nod. He returned to the stack and scanned through the list of names until he found yours, pulling out the answer sheet to look over. It was silent for a while, save for the occasional scratch of his pen and the obnoxious tick-tock of the clock. You crossed your arms across your chest and examined the room absentmindedly, finding it too weird to watch him grade in this silence.

“You’ve done well,” he suddenly spoke, the richness of his voice gently guiding you out of your thoughts. “Congratulations.”

You saw that he rotated the paper to you, letting you look at the numbers that adorned the white page. 47/50, it read, marking this your highest grade yet.

“That’s good,” you hummed, risking a glance up at him, only to find him already watching you expectantly.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” He questioned, and you could’ve sworn that he had the faintest of smirks. It was gone as quick as you saw it, but you were sure it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you. You paused, feeling the uncomfortable weight of embarrassment creeping in your mind, stopping the words on the tip of your tongue. What were you so nervous about? You did good and everyone knew he didn’t go back on his word.

“You said you’d reward me if I did good,” you reminded, leaning forward a touch too eagerly.

“Did I?” He replied, his expression unchanging even when it was clear what you wanted. “The reward was the knowledge and understanding of this unit. Are you not satisfied?”

Fuck.

“Oh. Uh,” you were mortified—how could you not be? Technically, he didn’t specify what the prize would be. You just assumed it’d include him fucking you like the last two times. You stared at him, pursing your lips, not really bothering to hide the obvious displeasure in your face. “If I say no, will I get something else?”

The corners of his lips raised in a smug smile as he intertwined his fingers together, resting them atop the smooth wood of his desk. You noticed the familiar glint of amusement in his eyes and groaned softly. He was just messing with you.

“I suppose so,” he said, beckoning you closer to him with a refined hand. He flattened it along the curve of your hip, gently guiding you to the edge of his desk as he stood up to press himself against you. “You’ve done well today. You must’ve been very determined to get what you wanted, hm?”

You nodded slightly, almost shyly, shuddering at the feeling of his hand sliding down your pelvis to palm at your crotch. He was (not so) surprised to have felt you already hardening under his touch, but he didn’t comment on it, instead giving your cock an experimental squeeze. Your knees nearly buckled, grateful to have the desk supporting your weight as he stroked and explored your body.

“You’re more sensitive than the previous times we’ve done this,” he noted, leaning back to slot his thigh between your own and tilt your bashful head up. His grip was firm, unrelenting, raising goosebumps along your arms at his—frankly strange—strength. You hardly paid it any heed, of course. It just added to his appeal. “Have you been anticipating this moment since then?”

He refused to let you look away, tightening his grip on your chin to make you meet his golden eyes. You hesitated for a moment, swallowing hard before steeling your nerves. He said you could have this, so you were going take it.

“Yeah,” you replied, rolling your hips into the palm of his hand needily. You bit your lip at the jolt of electricity that traveled up your spine, sending your senses into overdrive. You could smell his cologne—it was rich and smooth, subtle and fitting for a man like him. He was all you could feel, hear, and see as his hand made its way to the front of your pants, deftly undoing the button to tug them down.

“My, I can’t imagine how pent up you must be to be this aroused already,” he teased, his cheeks raised in a minuscule smirk. He swiftly pulled his gloves off and ran his hands ran over the curve of your thighs this time, sliding along the underside to lift you onto the desk. You tensed when the cold surface met your heated skin, but it was soon forgotten when you watched him slide your boxers off, breath hitching as he wrapped his hand around your cock.

He pressed his thumb onto the sensitive head, giving it a quick rub before lifting it, noticing the thin string of precum connecting his finger to you. He tightened his hold again to start jerking you off, listening intently to the slick noises and your breathy moans. He could feel his own dick beginning to harden, straining against the fabric of his slacks, but he ignored it for the sake of pleasuring you.

His touch was addicting. Hypnotizing. Entrancing. Anything and everything under the sun because you couldn’t get enough of how damn good he was. He knew just how tight to squeeze, the right pace, what made you shudder and squirm. The build-up was slow and delicious, clouding over your mind until your thoughts were hardly coherent enough to speak out.

“Damn—you’re… you’re good,” you shakily panted, eyes darting between his warm, strong hand and his own irises. Your cock throbbed, twitching at the sound of his low, amused chuckle. You clutched at the edge of the desk hard enough to make your hands shake, thighs flexing as you writhed. Though, you were careful enough not to accidentally kick him.

“I’m flattered you think so,” he responded, moving himself so that his hip pressed one of your thighs wider. He felt you hook your leg around his waist and tighten when he moved his hand away to prod his fingertips against your lips, wordlessly demanding entry. Eagerly, you complied, opening your mouth to let him press onto your tongue and gather your saliva.

You hummed at the feeling before closing your lips around them, gently sucking on them as you gauged his reaction. You couldn’t catch his overall expression shifting, but you did see his eyebrow raise the slightest bit and feel his cock throb against your ass. He let out a breath when he felt the suction alongside your tongue swirling around his skin, coating his fingers in your saliva. He pushed them further down, resulting in a soft gag from you. He held them there for a moment longer before pulling away, watching you break the thin trail that connected you to him with a swift swipe of your tongue over your slick lower lip.

Without missing a beat, he reached down, and you were fully expecting to feel him prod at your hole, but his hand targeted the handle of one of his drawers. You huffed impatiently and rolled your eyes when he pulled out a bottle of lube, listening to the sound of the cap being flipped open.

“Was the whole finger thing really necessary?” You grumbled, gasping slightly when he tugged your hips forward just enough so your ass hung off of the edge. You gave him a weak glare when he poured some of it on your asshole directly, tensing and shuddering at the sudden temperature drop.

“No,” he replied smoothly, easing his fingers into you. “But surely you didn’t expect to be the only one enjoying himself?” He questioned rhetorically, pumping them in and out slow enough so that the wet squelching was the only thing you could hear. “I also had no intention of using my saliva this time.”

“Could’ve started by now,” you said under your breath, mildly bitter that he had you gagging on his fingers just ‘cause he felt like it.

“Have patience,” he murmured, jabbing his slender fingers into your prostate in response to your vulgar words. He jerked you off with his free hand, paying close attention to each of your reactions, down to the minuscule twitch. “I know you can do that. If you can pass a simple test, how much more is waiting to you?”

You remained silent, swallowing the impending retort. You huffed through your nose, watching his hands expertly working your body better than you’d ever have. Your hips jerked and your cock pulsed rhythmically whenever he curled his slender fingers into that one spot that had you seeing stars. It was hard to keep quiet, and you were sure he was making this as difficult as he possibly could for you.

The heat in your belly intensified with every second—with every jab to your sensitive prostate and stroke along your painfully hard dick. Your labored breaths came out in quick pants, hitching when he teased the leaking tip. You were fully expecting him to take his time, to feel the gradual buildup, so when he suddenly speeds up, you accidentally let out a loud moan.

He gave you a sharp look, reminding you that you couldn’t afford to be loud despite not letting up. You swiftly clamped a hand over your mouth, weakly glaring at him for the sudden onslaught of stimulation, but you could hardly keep up the attitude for long. You squeezed your eyes shut and squirmed, nostrils flaring at the effort as your hips jerked every so often.

“F–Fuck, sir,” you panted, your eyebrows furrowing when you looked up at him pleadingly. “I’m gonna… m’gonna cum.”

“Go ahead,” Zhongli murmured, watching you intently. And, like his rich, smooth voice was a trigger, you did. You bit down on your lip so hard you nearly punctured it, unable to completely muffle your moans as the sounds slipped past your hand. He didn’t scold you for it, instead deciding to continue to move his hands, milking out as much cum out of your cock as he could before you started to whine at the budding overstimulation.

He let you take a moment to gather yourself, shifting to grab a tissue and wipe his fingers clean. He turned back to look at you when you sighed, leaning back to place most of your weight on your palms.

“Do you need a break?” He questioned, placing his hands back on your bare thighs. He was in no rush despite having his painfully hard dick straining against his pants, and you were internally impressed with his self control.

“No,” you replied without missing a beat, hooking your knee around his waist to tug him closer, but he hardly budged. “Fuck me. Now. I’ll be fine,” you urged. It seemed that demands were your strong suit this time around.

“Learning to have patience will benefit you greatly,” he said, and you watched the way he took a deep breath in a manner you knew meant that he was about to go on a long tangent of life lessons or something along the line. You gave him a pleading look, to which he acknowledged with yet another subtle, smug smirk. Good lord, when he wasn’t in a serious setting or teaching, he could be a pain in the ass. Literally and figuratively.

“Stop doing that,” you huffed, but you could hardly maintain that (already weak) sense of annoyance when he moved to undo his pants, eyes quickly and instinctively making their way towards his cock. You could see the tip of it beading with precum and the way it flushed an angry red.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow what you’re trying to imply,” he responded, all of his amusement fizzling away to make room for the faux ignorance. He reached over to grab the bottle of lube to pour a generous amount onto his palm and rub it along his dick, creating quiet squelching sounds that, now that you thought about it, made you cringe.

“So you just casually have lube laying around?” You questioned, looking back up at him curiously like you weren’t about to have sex. You had a strange relationship, honestly.

“I got it recently. Based on your reaction towards our last session together, it was easy to assume that you’d make a genuine effort,” he said, wiping most of the lube off his hand with a tissue before hefting your thighs up his broad shoulders. “You’re quite predictable.”

You didn’t bother to refute this time, wincing slightly at the tension to your lower back. “Ow—careful,” you hissed, shifting to get comfortable when you paused suddenly, feeling the head of his cock press against your asshole.

“You’ll be fine,” he gently assured, resting his free hand beside your head. “Bear with it.”

He pushed forward—gently this time, unlike the way he so roughly shoved himself inside you like the first time. You tensed regardless, mildly uncomfortable with the burn that came with his entry.

“Relax,” he murmured, rubbing a hand on your thigh in a comforting manner, coaxing your relaxation forth. He sank in slowly, breathing in deeply as he fought the urge to shove himself in one go. It felt better this way, he realized, taking his time instead of rushing it out of the sake of irritation. “You’re doing well. Just breathe.”

You nodded sheepishly, resting your head back against his desk. Your chest fell and rose rhythmically, making yourself relax to make things easier for both you and him. You sank your teeth into your lower lip and grunted when he finally buried himself all the way inside you, listening to him grunt in satisfaction.

“Fuck… is it me, or did you literally get bigger?” Your voice was strained, breathy and shaky. Your legs tightened slightly around his shoulders, staring at him needily.

“No, nothing about me has changed,” he chuckled softly, finding your state humorous. “But you have. You’ve improved your character within this room and proved that you’re more than capable of passing my class. You’ve made me proud, [L.Name].”

“Oh. Haha. Really?” You laughed awkwardly, turning your head to the side bashfully. Butterflies fluttered within your stomach at the praise, feeling a sudden rush of giddiness that you were hardly able to hide. “I guess I am doing better, huh?”

He nodded in response, his golden eyes softening. “I will begin now.”

You gasped, instinctively looking down to watch him pull out a bit and softly push back inside. You shuddered at the drag of his cock against your prostate, biting your lip once again to stifle the moans that threatened to spill from your throat.

He moved rhythmically, his gaze locked on your blissful expression. His cock throbbed as he slid in and out, again and again, targeting your prostate with pinpoint precision. “You’re taking me so well,” he muttered, grunting softly, your soft moans mixing in with the wet, gentle slaps that filled the room.

“Shit—don’t say stuff like that,” you stubbornly said, slapping a hand over your mouth when he jabbed his dick up against your prostate with a sharp thrust.

“No? But is it—” He groaned, his eyebrows furrowing when he felt you squeeze tighter around him, letting out a strained, labored breath. He tightened his fingers into fists that had his knuckles turning white, pressing his hips against your ass firmly for a moment before resuming. “But is it not the truth?”

You rolled your eyes, using your lack of momentum to kick his back with the heel of your foot. “You talk too much…”

“Is that so?” He retorted, a faint smirk gracing his features as he bent down lower, brushing his lips against your ear, and ignored the strained grunt you let out at the added tension to your back. “Then what would you like me to do?”

You hesitated, shivering pleasantly as his breath ghosted the shell of your ear. “Harder. Go harder.” The two of you remained silent for a beat, and you quickly realized he was expecting something else. “Please.”

“Good boy. Just because I’m doing this for you doesn’t mean you simply forget your manners,” he scolded lightheartedly.

And, like clockwork, your jaw snapped open to argue, but he wouldn’t allow it this time. He rammed his cock so hard in you stars danced through your vision, your body tensing and clenching down tighter around his cock. His breaths came out shallow and labored, focused on churning your insides to mush while you tried your damn best to keep yourself from getting too loud.

“Fuck—oh my God, sir, please—” you choked out, hands scrambling for purchase. You covered your mouth with one and buried your fingers in his hair with the other, inadvertently tugging on the strands and messing up his ponytail. “Wait…!”

“Is this not what you wanted?” He rhetorically questioned, his voice low, not needing to raise his volume over your surprised and needy moans. “A shame,” he continued, finding no desire to let up any time soon. He panted harshly into your neck, letting his eyes squeeze shut as he savored the feeling of your tight hole fluttering and pulsing around him. This closeness was unwarranted and wrong, he of all people knew that. But as you whimpered and whined into his ear, he also found that he didn’t mind it.

All that could be heard were the resounding slaps and your poorly concealed noises. The desk creaked slightly, straining under your combined weight as he kept you pinned down with his body, ignoring the quiet rustle of paper as a few fluttered off the desk.

“Fuck, m’so close, sir,” came your muffled words, eyes rolling in ecstasy as you dragged your hand down to clutch tightly at his back, fingers desperately curling into his clothes. “G-Gonna cum—don’t stop!”

“Quiet,” he shushed you, giving one of your thighs a brief pinch before he grabbed hold of your weeping cock to stroke it in time with his movements. Slick sounds emanated from you as he jerked you off with dexterity, stoking the raging heat in your belly. “I know you can lower your voice. You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you?”

You meekly shook your head, letting go of his back to place both hands over your mouth. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling yourself jolt up and down as he rammed himself into your ass rhythmically. Your legs tightened slightly around his neck, searching for something to cling to. You were so close and you knew he was aware of it. He refused to let up, pushing you higher and higher, groaning when you tightened around him reflexively.

“Fuck!” You cried out, your hands hardly able to catch your voice as you came hard, body shuddering and convulsing. He squeezed your dick, slowing down considerably to help you through your orgasm, sweat rolling down his temple at the shared body heat and the effort to please you.

He pulled out with a grunt, letting one of your legs fall off his shoulder as he reached down to quickly jerk himself off, sighing in satisfaction when he finally came. You shivered, resting an arm over your eyes in exhaustion as the two of you basked in the afterglow, chest heaving up and down as you panted hard.

“You’ve done well,” he murmured, cleaning his hands off with a tissue to massage your trembling thighs, giving you a moment to recompose yourself. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks…” you replied, taking your arm off your face to look at him. He was disheveled--the most unkempt you've ever seen him. You sighed gratefully when he moved your remaining leg down to grab another tissue and wipe off his and your cum that landed on your stomach.

"Here, take this." He handed you a bottle of water, fixing himself as soon as you accepted it. "It'll do you well to rehydrate yourself, especially after an intensive session such as this."

You drank a generous amount, wiping your mouth after you put the bottle down to retrieve your pants and underwear when he handed them to you. "Thanks. Again."

"Of course." He nodded, giving you more space to put your clothes back on, watching you with a soft expression. "It's getting late. Would you like me to escort you home?"

"I'm okay. I live, like, what, ten minutes away by foot?" You shook your head, wincing slightly at the ache in your back. You stood up and stretched, yawning, as you made your way away from the desk. You noticed a piece of paper on the floor and bent down to grab it, flipping it over to place atop the surface, realizing that it was your test that fell. Staring at the red numbers for a moment longer, you were overcome with a sense of embarrassment.

Man, the things you'd do for dick.

"Don't expect any leniency from me, [L.Name]," he said, walking over towards the window to open it, letting a fresh breeze carry the smell of sex outside. "My demands still remain."

"I know," you sighed, feigning dejection before you grabbed your stuff, walking towards the door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll see you then."

[ageofstarkey]

Hi! Could you write a Mattheo one, where it’s that time of the month, and you’re just really not feeling like facing the world.

poor thing ✰ m. riddle

summary: you’re on your period, and matthéo’s there to help you feel less awful.

pairing: bf!matthéo x reader

warnings: reader is implied to be afab, mentions of reader having their period, discussion of period-related symptoms, nothing else really???

note: hello!! thank you so much for the request!! i’m still trying to find my groove with writing, but i hope i did your prompt some justice :’) also pretend that boys can in fact enter the girls dorms in this universe lmfao

masterlist

comments & reblogs are so appreciated!

✰ ✰ ✰

“aren’t you getting up for potions?”

when you roll over, you see pansy watching you from the doorway. she’s dressed and ready for the day - book bag slung carefully across her body. she studies you with something akin to concern; awaiting your response with perfect, furrowed brows.

with a quiet sigh, you push yourself into a half-sitting position. “i don’t think so. i got my period last night and i feel absolutely horrid.”

“want me to tell riddle? i’m sure he’s looking for an excuse to skip anyway”

you roll your eyes fondly. “he’s already missed too many lessons this year - let him figure it out on his own time, yeah?”

pansy shrugs. “fine. hope you feel better.”

you groan, flopping none-too-gracefully back on your pillow. “me too.”

when pansy leaves, you take a few moments to savour the silence. it does little to ease the uncomfortable ache in your abdomen, but it’s quiet enough that you can almost pretend your head hasn’t been throbbing since the second you opened your eyes.

eventually, you snuggle back under your thick quilt, resigned to sleeping away your misery. it doesn’t take long for your fatigue to take over, pushing you steadily towards the edge of unconsciousness.

you’re nearly asleep, when you hear a sharp knock at the dormitory door. your brows tug downwards in confusion. with a quiet groan, you drag yourself out of bed. the floors are shockingly cold against your bare feet, and you curse quietly under your breath as you approach the door.

when you tug it open, you’re pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriends handsome face. although he should be in class, you can hardly fight the grin that tugs at your lips. “you are not supposed to be here.”

matthéo quirks an eyebrow, sporting a smirk you know all too well. “shall i see myself out then?”

you roll your eyes fondly. “no.”

“didn’t think so.” he lets himself in, kicking the door shut behind him. “do you wanna lay down?”

“merlin - more than anything.”

he tugs you gently towards him, pressing his lips against your forehead in a chaste kiss. “i figured as much.” he murmurs the words against your skin, punctuating them with another kiss. when he pulls away, he nudges you gently towards the bed. “how are you feeling?”

“awful.”

“cramps?” he shrugs off a few layers of clothing, before tugging back your quilt and laying on the bed.

with a gentle little tug, you’re falling into the empty space beside him. “my entire body just… aches.” with a defeated sigh, you drop your head on his chest.

matthéo hums softly, stroking a gentle hand up and down the length of your spine. “poor thing.”

“tell me about it.”

with a quiet little laugh, he tilts your head up towards his own. “do you think you’ll survive?”

“i really might not, théo. this might be it for me.”

matthéo rolls his eyes, but he wears a fond little smile that gives him away. “you’re ridiculous.”

“i am not!” your lips turn downwards in an involuntary pout. “it hurts.”

“i know, sweetheart.” he closes the small gap between you, kissing away your feeble little frown. “why don’t you try and get some rest, hm?”

“you’ll stay?”

he kisses you again - longer this time, and you swear you’re feeling better already. “‘m not going anywhere.”

[l0v3tast3]

Ok but older perv bf ghost would be such a menace like he would destroy your cunt in his back seat and then shake ur dads hand.( these older bf hcs make me go feral bb)

anon you are so right. he'll be so mean but like it's literally his fault that he's hot asf and u just wanna jump on him 24/7 ??? anyways tysm for the request and the kind words i hope you enjoy this anon !! ◝(⁰▿⁰)◜

✎ tags: mdni! nsft, f!reader, age gap (r is 20's, simon is late 30's), dumbification, conditioning (consensual), orgasm control, spanking, degradation/praise kink, overstimulation/edging, car s3x, size difference/kink, possessive!simon, c0ckwarming

✎ word count: 1.8k words (not proofread)

masterlist | requests are open!

✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!simon who wants to see you become absolutely brainless because of him. you're such a smart girl usually, among the top of your class at university, and simon just loves to see that whole façade crumble away. he knows a good fucking is just what you need to unwind from your classes, and he is more than happy to give it to you.

✧ ˖ ° seeing you go all dumb on his cock makes simon nearly giddy, the feeling of how you stop pushing at his abs and just take it once he bullies his dick in far enough to fill your brain with him instead of whatever you're studying, the sight of your eyes rolling back and your little hands weakly grabbing at whatever they can reach for some semblance of grounding yourself. you know just as well as simon does that it's useless; he makes damn sure that you have nowhere to run to when he has you in his hold.

✧ ˖ ° another thing he makes sure of is that you steadily become the one to come onto him first. simon wants you to be his own little nymphomaniac, addicted to his cock, to him. it all works towards melting your brain quicker and quicker each time. there's a certain dedication he puts towards it- even by the time he was done with you the first time you slept together, he's planning it out, figuring out which muscles to press into to get you to mewl for him, just the right angle to pound his dick into you, how much you can take before he starts seeing dew drops collecting on your waterline.

✧ ˖ ° even outside of the bedroom (or kitchen, or living room, wherever he has yet to christen next in his house) simon's working on it. he'll give you so many hoodies, jackets, boxers, anything that smells like him that you want, and then he tells you that if you're going to touch yourself without him that you better be at least wearing his clothes while you do it. eventually you'll get to the point where you can't get off without the thought of him, without his scent, then without him. there's no doubt either that whenever you do get worked up without him, simon makes sure that you always tell him. text him, call him, send a damn carrier pigeon with a letter, he doesn't care, but he's going to guide you through every orgasm you have.

✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!simon who can get to be a mean dom. he loves punishing you for whatever reason he can find, especially when you touch yourself without telling him. simon is an experienced special ops soldier who's used his hands to torture people as much as he's used them to pleasure you, so he has not a single problem with knowing how to get the truth out of you. obviously he doesn't torture you, though (not in a way you don't like).

✧ ˖ ° if it's been a long stretch of time where you haven't been able to see each other, he'll pull you onto his lap and start out all soft. he'll run his hands all over you, move his lips against yours sweet and slow, whisper about how much he missed his pretty little girl. he'll listen with a happy hum while you tell him how much you missed him, how much you need him. he'll guide your hips lightly when you can't help but start grinding against his thigh, hands pushing up your skirt to see which pair of underwear he gets to rip apart this time. and then he'll ask you how much you missed him.

✧ ˖ ° from the start you know the question is a double-edged sword, but you always answer truthfully. it only took you one lesson to learn that simon knows when you lie to him (he didn't let you cum for three days while he kept you at his house the entire time). he always appreciates the truth, praises you for being such a good girl for him when you honestly tell him that you only touched yourself during the short phone calls he was allowed while he was away. there's a little part of him that's always a bit disappointed though, the same part that turns into glee when you sheepishly admit that you couldn't wait for him.

✧ ˖ ° simon's always a bit too quick at flipping you over so your laying face-down over his thighs. one hand wraps around your neck to pull you up and arch your back, the other flipping up your skirt and grabbing roughly at your squishy ass. "couldn't fuckin' wait f'me, huh? y'so desperate for cock that y'can't follow simple orders? thought i already taught ya how to be patient," he spits, letting you fall back against the couch so his hand can move down to plant itself across your back. that's when he starts, not even waiting for you to try to apologize meekly or defend yourself. slaps that leave bruises you'll be feeling for days rain down across your ass and simon makes you count each one. if you lose count or stop, he'll push open your legs to smack your cunt and start all over. simon doesn't let up until you're sniffling and whining and your underwear is soaked through (which of course he makes fun of you for).

✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!simon who really is an absolute menace with you. he dangles your pleasure over your head like something he grabbed for you out of the cabinets, keeping it just out of your reach until he decides to give it to you. there won't ever be a moment where simon doesn't have most, if not all of the control. there's something about having that command over you, feeling you hand over your trust, your body and mind to him that's addicting. so no matter how cruel he can get, he'll always make sure to ply you with as many orgasms as you can handle (and then some) to show his appreciation.

✧ ˖ ° his brutishness can come in the form of wanting to see just how messy he can get you to be. he'll bury his face and fingers into your cunt until there's a puddle forming underneath you, and when he's done there, simon stuffs you full with his cock and fucks you until your makeup is running with your tears and smearing across the sheets. he'll rip off the clothes that bar him from seeing your gorgeous body so that you have to wear something of his afterwards. and god help you if he wants to fuck in the backseat of his car before you both go someplace. which, (not) shockingly, is something he wants to do before he meets your parents.

✧ ˖ ° with the car parked not too far from your parents house in some spot where people won't think to give the tinted windows a second look, he'll have you working your way down on his cock. every time you whine about how you're going to be late, they're going to know, they won't be happy, simon gives your ass a sharp slap and snaps his hips up into yours. "would y'rather i fuck you in your room while they're home? don't think you can keep quiet enough for that," he mocks, his tone condescending despite the fact that he's already planning on doing just that at some point.

✧ ˖ ° once you're practically limp against his body, letting him use you like his personal toy, he'll finally cum. you finish with him, your third orgasm in less than an hour, as he buries his cock to the hilt inside you and grinds his hips up. once you're semi-conscious again he helps you put on your underwear and pants and gives you his hoodie. and after you've taken off your ruined makeup and redid at least some of it, you'll drive the remaining minute to your parents house, where simon seems to know just how to get them to love him. meanwhile, you'll be shifting in your seat next to him while his cum creates a stain on your jeans.

✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!simon who wants you to be with him basically 24/7 while he's not away on missions. you're his girlfriend, of course he wants to spend as much time as he can with you! never mind the fact that this man has probably been boxing away his libido for years. so while he's at his home, so will you be.

✧ ˖ ° you'll find that any clothes you bring over to your stays with simon don't really go missing as much as he blatantly makes them unwearable for you as long as you insist on still bringing them. why would you have any need for those when he has plenty for you? it's not like you'll be wearing clothes much anyway while he has you. it's a lesson you learn quickly to pack light, otherwise you'll be going home with scraps of fabric. simon doesn't not like your clothes (he thinks your style is adorable on you), but the way you smell like him with his hoodies and shirts, the way they're basically dresses on you serving to remind how much bigger he is than you, it drives him even crazier.

✧ ˖ ° because of how touch-starved (and horny) he is, simon prefers to always physically have you close to him. which means lots of cockwarming; he won't lie about how much he loves watching you try your very best not to squirm on his lap, not to lose yourself to how full you always feel with him inside you. whether you're watching a movie or he's working in his office or even just trying to sit down for a meal, simon will preemptively have you sinking down on his cock, chastising you about how eager you always are for him to just fuck you. it's nearly torture for him just the same as you, but the difference is that he has a lot more self-control than you do- just enough to give your thigh a stinging pinch every time you move a muscle.

✧ ˖ ° no matter how long he keeps you there, it'll always turn into simon pushing you against the nearest table or wall and fucking away the last few straggling thoughts in your head. he always waits until your breathing gets ragged and your nails are digging in hard. until you're panting against his neck from the effort it takes to not bounce yourself on his dick. until you're begging. "what? turned y'into that much of a whore that y'can't go five minutes without my cock? fine." he'll say it as if he's doing you a favor, as if he's going out of his way to satisfy the nymphomaniac that he himself has proudly created.