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hysteria-things · 3 months ago

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smut w chris and goody 2 shoes reader who always acts so smart and innocent w people then acts like a brat to chris?

he gets sick of it and roughly fucks her into her place , caring less for her pleasure and using her just so she knows how much of a slut she is!

LESSON LEARNED

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: brat tamer!chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you get taught a lesson when you act like a brat in public.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, spanking, humiliation, face fucking, dry humping, squirting, p in v, rough sex, degradation, a sprinkle of praising, overstimulation, unprotected sex (no bueno!)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,502

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: HAPPY KINKTOBER!!!

this is based off one of my blurbs from a while ago😜

your reputation to others is excellent. you’re a nice girl, who is outgoing and will always follow directions or help whoever is in need. goody two shoes is what people mostly describe you as, which isn’t that far off. however, when you’re with your significant other, your bratty side slips up.

“let me go!” you tell chris like you’re a toddler, stomping your feet while he leads you to his bedroom. “i’m being serious!”

opening the door, he lets go of your wrist to have you lead inside, yelping when his palm smacks your ass to usher you more quickly before bending you over the edge of his computer desk. pouting your lips, you hear his heavy breathing as he forcibly pulls up your skirt. you know what’s coming. your punishment.

your eyes start to well up, feeling the slightest bit bad that you acted like a brat in front of his friends, but you’re one of all things. “o-one.” you say between a sob when your boyfriend’s hand slaps your ass for the first time out of many to come tonight. you start spewing out apologies, wiggling in his grip that’s pinned your hands behind your back. “i’m sorry, okay?” you admit, his hand spanking you once more. “i didn’t mean to!”

“if you didn’t mean to you wouldn’t have done it in the first place.” chris snarls back, followed by another smack. “keep counting,” he says through gritted teeth.

SPANK.

your cries echo throughout the room as he continues to punish your reddening bottom. each slap lands with accuracy, leaving its mark on your tender skin. your tears fall on your cheeks now, mixing with the stinging sensation. “seven... eight... nine!" you wail, your voice hoarse from yelling. your body shakes with each impact, trying to squirm away another time. again, no use.

his palm connects again, the force jolting you. the pain courses to your core, pussy throbbing in response with a mix of mercy and arousal. “ten! i swear i won’t do it again!” you plea, desperate for at least some sympathy. alas, chris remains careless, his anger still fresh.

he acts like he didn’t even hear your lame apology, his focus only on disciplining you for your actions. raising his hand high, he prepares himself for another smack against your now-colored rear. “eleven.” he says under his breath, starting to count for you. the sound of skin meeting skin chimes, along with your pained whimper. he pauses for a moment, letting you take a breath to let your punishment sink in — and there’s no way out of it. then, without warning, his hand comes down again, striking your already sore ass with a vicious hit.

“twelve.” chris states clearly, his tone lacking mercy. he continues this harsh pattern, each spank followed by a number. “thirteen... fourteen... fifteen...” the more he counts, the more you sob.

“sixteen… seventeen!” you take back your job, shouting after each brutal strike. your body trembles, feeling like every nerve is in pain. the heat from your bruised cheeks radiate down to your thighs and the folds of your pussy. despite being punished, you feel thrilling and excited all in one. “eighteen... nineteen... twenty!” you choke out, your voice barely audible over your heavy breathing. the tears keep streaming, skin shining from sweat.

by the time his hand falls for the twentieth time, your bottom is a crimson mess. the sting lingers, knowing it’ll be that way for days. yet, you’ve never been so turned on.

chris finally stops after the last spank, admiring his work. your ass is a beautiful shade of red, the perfect blend of pain and pleasure. he can see the arousal glistening between your thighs, a clear visual of what this has been doing for you.

with a firm grip, he grabs your hair and pulls your head back, forcing you to look at him. his eyes stare into yours, filled with a mixture of anger and desire. “what a fucking brat.” he sneers, his other hand roughly groping your numbing ass cheek. he releases your hair, pushing himself off of you with so much force you fall to the ground, landing with a thud. from the impact, your butt stings even more.

curling into a ball, you wrap your arms in front of your legs and cry softly. “i-i’m sorry, chris.” you whine, voice shaking. the humiliation of being bent over and spanked like a naughty child, combined with the intense physical sensations, leaves you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

despite the pain, you can't ignore the ache between your legs. your cunt throbs with a need that it’s confusing. you’ve never felt this way before, and it scares you.

chris watches you on the floor, a smirk playing on his lips. he knows exactly what's going through your mind. “get up.” he snaps, standing tall and towering over you. “and get on the bed; on your knees. now.” he waits, expecting a protest, but he doesn’t receive one. that means it’s working.

once you're in position, he comes over, his cock already half hard. “if you're going to act like a brat, you'll learn how to get treated like one, too.” chris explains, running a hand through your hair. he unbuckles his jeans so they fall freely onto the floor, dick springing out right in front of you while gripping your hair and pushing his tip against your lips. “open up.”

trembling, you part your lips, allowing chris to guide his thick cock past them. the taste of pre-cum fills your mouth as he thrusts deeper, hitting the back of your throat. “mmph.” you gag slightly around his length, eyes glossy. you don’t pull away, of course. instead, you relax your jaw to accommodate him.

he sets a steady pace, fucking your face with elongated strokes. each snap of the hips sends vibrations through your head, making your nose pressed against his pelvis. your hands grasp at the sheets below, wanting to hold onto something since he’s in full domination. you’re uncomfortable, but your pussy continues to clench with need, juices dripping down your thighs. without thinking, you start humping the blanket to try and get friction on your clit like a bitch in heat.

groaning in satisfaction as he uses your mouth for his pleasure, he can feel your throat tighten around him, fighting to breathe around his girth. “that’s it, take it all.” he grunts, holding your head in place as he ruts in and out of your stretched lips. “this is what brats like you deserve.”

taking his free hand, he reaches down to cup your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. the sight of you, tear-streaked and submissive, only makes him want more. noticing your desperate humping, he chuckles deeply. “look at you, getting off like a pretty little thing. you do enjoy this, don't you?”

you moan muffled around chris’ cock as he continues to use your mouth, driving you wild. “mmph! mmph!” you manage to respond, nodding frantically at his question. your hips buck harder against the bed, chasing the friction your clit needs. your pussy clenches tightly, a clear substance gushing out to soak the bedding beneath you.

seeing you drench the sheets, he grins, knowing he's pushed you to ultimate submission. he speeds up his thrusts, fucking your face with more power. “yeah.” he grunts, watching you fall apart beneath him. “you filthy slut. show me how much you love taking this dick like a good little whore.”

his words are degrading, but you enjoy the hell out of it. your mind goes blank, focusing on the feeling of his cock in your mouth and the desperate need pulsing between your thighs. sensing your climax, he pulls out abruptly, leaving you gasping for air and drooling. before you can recover, he flips you over onto your back and yanks your legs apart.

panting heavily, you stare up at chris in a daze, your body still shaking from the intensity of the previous actions. the sudden loss of his dick in your mouth leaves you feeling empty. you. want. more.

the exposing of your dripping cunt has his eyes widen, as if he’s a kid in a candy shop. “jesus, chris.” you whimper, feeling ashamed by how pathetic you seem right now. “please.” you’re desperate, not even sure what you're begging for anymore. release? punishment? his harsh words? all you know is that you’re craving every bit of him.

chris takes in the sight of your exposed, fluttering hole, his horniness shooting straight to his dick. “you want it?” he murmurs, his fingers tracing the swollen slit of your pussy. “you want my cock inside you; stretching out every inch of this needy pussy?”

when you’re about to answer, he lines himself up and plows in deep, burying himself in one stroke. a guttural groan rips from his chest at the tightness gripping him. “holy shit, you were made for this.” chris exhales, each pump of his hips driving him impossibly deeper. “taking my cock like the perfect slut you are.”

a sharp cry tickles your throat as he thrusts into you, the sudden stretch sending waves of pleasure and pain through your core. your nails dig into the sheets as he fucks you, each ruthless thrust hitting that sweet spot inside you and sending stars flying behind your eyelids. “yeah! oh, fuck, yeah!” you shout, your hips bucking fast to meet his brutal rhythm. “making me feel so good!”

the filthy words spill from your lips before it’s too late, fueled by the overwhelming pleasure you’re experiencing. you’ve never felt so full. his cock is hard inside you, pounding repeatedly against your cervix with each stroke.

his eyes flash with possession as he rails into you, living for the way your cunt clenches around him, gripping him deep. his balls slap against your ass with every violent thrust, the lewd sound mixing with your wanton cries. “mhm, scream for me.” he says, angling his hips to hit your g-spot just right. “let everyone hear what a cock sleeve you are for me.”

leaning down to your chest, he takes a nipple and swirls his tongue around it. his other hand snakes between your bodies to rub circles over your clit, wanting to push you over the edge. “cum on my cock, you filthy girl.” chris demands, his voice filled with lust.

each bite to your nipple sends sparks of ecstasy through your veins while his stimulation on your clit has you close to the brink of release. “oh god, oh god! i’m-i’m gonna—” your words turn into incoherent babbling as the waves of your orgasm crash over you. your pussy clamps down viciously on his length, milking him as your body shakes and becomes limp beneath him.

the grip on your clit tightens, prolonging your pleasure as he chases his release. with a final, sharp thrust, he buries himself and cums inside you, filling your spasming cunt with his seed. his cock throbs with each string until he collapses on top of you, his weight pushing you further into the mattress. “fuck, that was amazing.” he pants, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “and it’s all for me.” he whispers in your ear, referring to your body.

after a moment of silence, he pulls out with a wet pop. a trail of cum flows, painting your thighs with its sticky substance. he rolls off of you with a satisfied smile, but bites his lip when he spots his cum on you. “turn around and show me that pretty ass.”

“what—” you’re cut off when he guides you on your hands and knees, in the position he wants you in. his favorite; ass up with your pussy on full display. a shiver runs down your spine. it was silly to think you were getting off the hook that easy.

he shifts behind you, hands grasping your thighs as he aligns himself between your spread legs. one finger traces the marks he left earlier, your hips backing into him unknowingly. “so eager. tell me what you need, slut. beg for it.” he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance, letting you feel his growing erection.

chris waits patiently, your body practically calling his name to be filled again. he can see the desperation in the way you arch your back, presenting yourself even more. “you know what to say.” he points out. “i want to hear those dirty words from your smart mouth.”

he delivers a sharp smack to one cheek, watching the flesh jiggle and flush pink under the force. he massages the sting away, waiting for you to give him what he wants. “please, chris.” you pout, feeling embarrassed about how at this moment you can’t live without his cock. “please, fuck me again, baby. use me however you want.” it seems like you don’t know who you are anymore. hours ago you were tough and mighty, but now you’re small and submissive.

pulling you back against him, he lines up his dick with your soaked sex. “that’s it, princess.” he says, his breath hot against your ear. “swallowing my cock like the good girl i know.”

bullying himself inside of your used hole, your eyes roll back from being filled with him again. just as before, you wrap deliciously around him. he sets a quick pace, the sound of your bodies conjoining bouncing off of the walls. “you’re still so tight.” he hisses.

your mouth falls open in a silent scream as he slams into you, the wideness spreading you open and hitting spots you didn't know existed. it’s almost too much, but you love it. “yes! yes! yes!” you cry out, meeting each of his powerful thrusts. “h-harder.”

the explicit sounds of your guys’ love making fill the air, conjoining with your moans and the slap of skin. you can feel another orgasm building, your walls fluttering wildly around his base. “do-don’t stop. don't ever stop.” you babble incoherently, lost in the trance of ecstasy. “i’m g-gonna—”

feeling your gummy walls squeeze around him, chris is determined to bring you to release. “cum for me.” he insists, brunette strands sticking to his forehead. “come on, give it to me.”

he can feel his own high approaching, his balls tightening as he nears. he holds back, wanting to put you before him. walls spasming, your moans become a higher pitch. “i’m cumming! fuck, i’m—” you don’t finish your sentence when the familiar ring of white moves down his shaft. chris fills you up one more time shortly after, ropes of cum shooting into your womb.

exhausted is an understatement. you know damn well you’re going to be walking from side to side for days, possibly weeks. “i love you so fucking much.” he breathes from next to you, kissing your shoulder. you hum in response, shutting your eyes. if that didn’t make you learn your lesson, you don’t know what will.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

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finelinefae · 10 months ago

Text

tongue-tied

synopsis: y/n has a stutter and harry likes to hear her talk

word count: 3.1k

contains: fluff, highschool romance, harry's a football player, popular boy x shy girl, brief mentions of bullying

a/n: happy soft girl Sunday !! I wasn’t planning on posting just because I posted the second part of the aviator a little later than I was meant to but I could resist putting this one out <3

. . .

“E-excuse me!” Y/N weaved her way through the mass exodus of students heading in the opposite direction to the lunch hall. She had tried to leave class a few minutes before the lunch bell to avoid the large groups of people but she had been so invested in writing her essay, she’d lost complete track of time.

She was running as fast as she possibly could to get to the library, knowing the person waiting for her wouldn’t get too impatient but she didn’t want to waste a second of their lunch break not being with him. Her bag slipped from her shoulder, her braids flying behind her and her knee-high socks falling down her calves.

Y/N barely registered the people around her, wondering where she could be going in such a rush, until her face collided with soft, grey fabric. Before she could even get embarrassed and profusely have to apologise for bumping into them, long arms snaked around her, hands clasping behind her back. She caught a whiff of his woody cologne and the floral fragranced detergent his mum always used to wash his school uniform.

“There y’ are, Dove.” He murmured, “I was starting to get worried.”

Y/N looked up and settled on those familiar green eyes she loved so much. She relaxed into his embrace, “Harry,” She sighed.

Harry and Y/N had been dating since they were fourteen. If it weren’t for the fact that their parents all worked together at the local hospital, they probably would never have met at all, although Harry liked to believe they were fated to be together so they would have ended up meeting each other some way or another.

Harry had always been popular at school. For one, he was on the football team which instantly made him a name within their year group. He was also very handsome for his age. Girls would whisper and giggle whenever he passed by in the hallways even those from the lower years. Despite the fact they had just turned seventeen, Harry could honestly pass for an almost twenty-year-old with how tall and mature he was.

Y/N was the complete opposite. When it came to her social life she was shy and not often one to make friends easily. She was part of the arithmetic club and had made a few friends there and in some of her other classes. She liked to keep to herself and struggled to talk in class not only because she was quiet but also because she had a particularly bad stutter.

It had developed when she started High School. She had been to multiple speech therapists to help her get rid of it and although it wasn’t as bad as it used to be, it still never failed to make her life all the more difficult than it already was.

A lot of the other kids liked to pick on her for it too. Whenever teachers picked on her in class and she’d reply, the rest of the class would start snickering, whispering in each other’s ears. She wanted to be invisible to everyone but it was her stutter that made her stand out.

When Harry’s family would come over to Y/N’s house for dinner, her parents would often force them to go off together whilst the adults spoke in the dining room. She remembered the first time she invited him into her room and how embarrassed she was when he saw all her comic books lying on the floor that she had forgotten to put away. But it eventually became the seed of their relationship, the common ground that allowed them to bond.

Soon Harry was inviting Y/N to his football games and up to his room every other weekend when she’d come over with her parents. They’d exchange comic books and talk about their favourite characters. Y/N was always apologising for her stutter whenever she’d ramble on for too long but Harry never cared, he loved hearing her talk.

Their first kiss was on her bed whilst their parents were in the room below them. Harry was the one to initiate it and Y/N hadn’t been expecting it so it was slightly awkward at first but then she got used to it and eventually all she ever wanted to do was kiss him. Every weekend, whether at her place or his, all they did was sneak around and kiss each other, giggling and falling in love all at the same time.

Now, three years later, things were still the same except they were older now and more in love than they were yesterday.

Wherever you looked, Harry was there, and Y/N was never too far behind. Students had grown accustomed to their relationship, and the bullying Y/N endured wasn't as severe as it used to be. Even teachers couldn't help but be enamoured with their young love — how fortunate it was to find love at such a young age.

Things were great, everything was great and Y/N had hoped she could finish her last year of High School on a high note. That was until she entered her English class on a Friday afternoon when the teacher announced it was time for their presentations which would go towards their final grade.

“I can’t Harry!” Y/N cried into her pillow after school, Harry was sitting on the end of her bed with his back against the wall as he rubbed his hand up and down her back.

“I know Dove,” He comforted her, already knowing the reason she was so upset over it.

“Everyone’s going to l-laugh at me,” She could already picture herself standing up in front of her class and everyone pointing and laughing at her.

Harry sighed, “Dove,” He shook her gently, “Will y’ look at me?”

Y/N hesitated before turning her head so her cheek lay against the pillow. Harry smiled and lay on his side in the spot next to her, their faces inches apart, “There’s m’ pretty girl,” He cooed, his heart hurting at the tears on her cheeks. He cupped her cheek in his big hand and wiped some of those tears away with his thumb.

“I-It’s not fair,” She huffed, “Why’d I have to have this stupid stutter.”

“Hey,” He frowned, “Enough of that hmm? Everything about you is beautiful, y’ know I love to hear y’ talk. Could sit here for hours and just listen.”

“But you’re d-different,” She whined, shuffling closer to him so she could hide her face in his grey jumper. Her stutter was rarely ever that bad in front of Harry which was why he was the easiest person she could talk to.

Harry laughed breathily, his hand going to her hair to play with the strands, “Would it help if I helped you a little?”

“How?” Y/N asked, her words muffled by his jumper.

“We could practise in the library at lunch, y’ could read me a few things and it might help your stutter.” He thought.

Y/N’s head looked up to his face where she could count every mole and freckle on his nose and cheeks. She couldn’t help but pucker her lips to kiss his jawline, “That’d be nice,” She murmured.

“Yeah?” He smiled, kissing the top of her head in return, “I only want to help you so if you don’t enjoy it or you’d rather practise alone then y’ can tell me,”

She shook her head, “N-No, I want to do that with you. I’d like it very much.”

So it became a daily occurrence, five days a week during lunch hours when Harry didn’t have practice, they’d sit in the library and Harry would pick out a book for them to read. They started with simple YA books with less complicated words.

“Good job, Dove!” Harry cheered every time Y/N finished a chapter.

“Wait I’m not done,” She huffed and then said the last line just for Harry to cheer for her again just as proudly as the first time.

Now that the day of her presentation was getting closer, they had finally made their way onto Classical novels which Y/N had come to despise.

They walked with their hands intertwined to the library after Y/N had bumped into him in the hallway. It was natural as they stepped into the library and headed straight to their table in the corner hidden away by two tall bookshelves.

Y/N placed her bag under the chair whilst Harry unzipped his to pull out the book they were currently reading. It was Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, even looking at the front cover made Y/N’s stomach turn.

“A-Are you sure we can’t go back to YA books?” Y/N huffed, taking the book and opening it up to the chapter they were last on.

Harry laughed, “But you’re doing so well, Dovey.”

“I-it’s hard though and the w-words are so tiny.” She pouts, Harry can’t help but lean forward and kiss her.

“C’mon, jus’ a few pages and then I can show y’ something I got for you.” He tried to persuade her, knowing the surprise would be enough to win her over.

“Fine,” She sighs dramatically.

She read for five pages, Harry listening intently to every word. His eyes focused on her lips as she spoke, stumbling over a few words here and there. He tried to hold back from smiling so much with how concentrated she was on each letter of every word. He thought it was adorable how her eyebrows creased and her hands gripped the book.

Eventually, she had enough, placing the book down on the table and closing it shut. “Good job baby!” He cheered, pressing multiple kisses to her cheek, “M so proud of you.”

Y/N giggled, “Thank you, Harry.”

Harry smiled and reached into the pocket of his blazer for the surprise he had promised her. Y/N looked down and saw a small, black pouch in his hand. He gave it to her, her fingers carefully pulling on the ribbon before pulling out the small item inside.

“It’s an anxiety ring,” Harry explained as she held the silver ring in the palm of her hand. He picked it up and slid it on his pinkie finger to show her, “Y’ can twist this band whenever you feel nervous, thought y’ could wear it on the day of your speech.”

He passed it back to her, Y/N narrowing her eyes to look at the spinning band which had a small inscription written on it, ‘i love the way you speak almost as much as i love you, your harry.’

Y/N’s eyes watered, unable to come up with the right words to say how much she adored it as well as the boy sitting in front of her. Instead, she leapt forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, “Thank you,” She murmured, “I love it. I love you.”

Harry softened even more from her embrace, “I love you more, Dove,” He whispered.

Y/N pulled away enough to kiss his lips, she was thankful for the privacy they had in the back of the library since she was never that good with public displays of affection and all she wanted to do now was kiss him because she was so grateful for him being there all the time.

It wasn’t long before the day of her presentation. After school, Y/N had been working on a short essay. She was going to speak to the class about her favourite comic books and why she loved them so much. She had recited the words out loud to herself and Harry and even her parents, that she could probably speak it off by heart.

Harry and Y/N stood outside the school. Her English class wasn’t until the third period but she knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate in her morning classes until the presentation was over. Harry was wearing his football uniform because he had a game against another school in the morning. Y/N had been with him after school as he practised for it, wearing his coat as she wrote out her speech on a notepad.

They stood side by side facing the school building as if it was some kind of beast they had to tackle, “O-okay,” She huffed, “I can do this,”

Harry looked down at her smiling and then reached for her hand, “You can do this,” He squeezed her fingers in encouragement.

“Good l-luck with your game today,” She grinned, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek.

“Thank you, baby,” He spoke softly, “Y’ can tell me all about your presentation and how well it went afterwards.”

“Okay Harry,” She nodded, completely determined despite how nervous she was. She had spent weeks preparing, she couldn’t let fear get the best of her.

“Good luck kiss?” Harry grinned, cheekily.

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes and craned her neck to kiss his lips. Harry held her face in his hands, unable to pull away from her even when she tried to, “I love you,” He murmured against her lips.

“I love you too.” She sighed, blissfully.

When third period came around, Y/N stood outside her English classroom, counting to five in her head. She clutched onto the piece of paper where her speech was written out in gelled ink, spinning the ring Harry had gifted her on her finger. With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped foot into her classroom.

. . .

Harry could hardly concentrate during the football match but he was trying his best. His team were two points ahead and it wouldn’t be long before the game was over. Since it was the morning and the game was mostly practice for the two schools competing, there wasn’t a huge audience watching them.

He was glancing down at his watch every few minutes when he was supposed to have his eye on the ball, checking to see whether third period was about to start. All he could think about was his little dove and how nervous she was when they stepped into school this morning.

She had been working so hard on reading things out, even stopping in shops when they went to town together to read the labels on the backs of food containers. He fully believed in her and her ability to speak in front of the class even when she didn’t and it killed him not being able to watch her do it.

So when the whistle finally blew marking the end of the game, Harry ignored the celebrations with his team after they won the match and ran across the field through the entrance of the school. He raced up the steps, his football boots clicking against the crowd. He knew he probably didn’t smell the best and his knees were muddy from falling over but he didn’t have much time to think about it as he searched for Y/N’s English classroom.

“Y/N?” He heard the teacher’s voice call her name as he approached.

“A-Already? O-Oh, O-okay.” He could hear her nerves just by listening to her speak.

Harry was about to knock on the door but he hesitated, wondering if it would worsen her nerves if he was in the classroom watching her. He knew how much of a big deal this moment was for Y/N and he didn’t want to intervene or make a spectacle of the moment especially since he wasn’t in her class.

He lowered his hand and instead pressed his ear up to the door.

“H-Hello,” Y/N started, “My name is Y-Y/N and today I will be sharing with you m-my love for comic books,” Harry’s heart ached as her voice came out quietly.

“C’mon Dove,” He whispered, wanting her to do well.

Y/N cleared her throat and let out a shaky exhale, “A-As you can probably tell, I-I am not all that good at speaking. I s-stumble over letters and sometimes even have to replace words with o-others because my mouth t-turns into mash potato and I can’t seem to get t-the words out.” People chuckled and Harry’s heart began to beat against his chest, “T-That is why I love comic books so much because of the l-lack of words. Instead, there are pictures,” Y/N continued, her voice gaining strength the more that she spoke, “T-They tell stories without the need for p-perfect sentences or flawless speech.”

Y/N continued her speech and Harry spent the entire presentation with his ear pressed up against the door. He ignored the looks of teachers and other students walking past as a huge grin spread across his cheeks the more Y/N spoke in front of the class.

By the time she had finished, it fell silent before the class responded with a round of applause, “Brilliant work, Y/N,” Her teacher said.

Y/N felt like she was floating on a cloud as she left her English classroom. Even if her speech wasn’t perfect, she had done it and gotten through it all in one piece. As she stepped out, two arms snaked around her waist and lifted her off the ground, “Harry!” Y/N giggled as he spun her around.

“M so proud of you, Dove.” He kissed her softly, lowering her to the ground but refusing to move his hands from her waist.

“I-I can’t believe I did it, Harry!” Y/N almost squealed.

“Heard every word, y’ did so good, M so proud of you.” He rambled, unable to cease his admiration for her.

“You heard?” Y/N’s eyebrows creased, her lips pouting slightly.

“I ran here as fast as I could and stood outside to listen to you,” Harry explained, “Y did perfect, honestly, the best speech I’ve ever heard.”

“You really ran h-here to listen?” Y/N asked, still in disbelief.

“I did,” Harry smiled, “It was all I could think about when I was on the field.”

“Did you win?” Y/N asked.

Harry pulled her flush against him, “You already know I did baby,” He smirked, kissing her. Y/N smiled against his lips.

“Let’s go out tonight,” Harry murmured, “To celebrate.”

“And do w-what?” Y/N wondered, even though the idea of spending any time with Harry was always her favourite.

“Maybe go to the bowling alley and get dinner after,” He shrugs.

“O-oh and maybe we can stop at the comic book store on the way home!” Y/N said, excitedly.

“Course m’love,” Harry’s smile widened the more she spoke, “We can do whatever you want as long as I get to hear you talk.”

Y/N grinned broadly as Harry interlaced his hands with hers, feeling the cool metal of her ring against his skin. Together, they walked hand in hand down the hallway, Y/N unable to stop talking the entire time, while Harry hung onto her every word.

#softgirlsundays #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #fic rec #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic rec #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry edward styles #one direction #harry styles writing #writing #fanfic rec #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you

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webbluvrsugar · 4 months ago

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Spencer Reid x Shy bau!reader: trying to work together.

cw: drabble, fluff, fools in love, mutual pining, you’re both in love and you both can’t see it.

You’re stuck alone in a small kid’s bedroom, pink pillows and princess bedsheets, toys all over the room along with books thrown on the floor, a broken window and a missing plush, you’re supposed to be investigating, but it’s almost like the presence of each other is just too distracting.

The team knows how your two feel for each other even without words needed, the glances you give at each other, the mutual pining that’s been going for months, they’re a bunch of profilers, they see it, and you two are profilers too, you should see it. But you don’t, which led to being put together in cases more times than you could count.

“Reid.” You nod for him to come closer, he does, but not after fumbling with a small toy on his hands, almost letting it fall in the process before putting it on its rightful place on the little girl’s shelf.

When he’s next to you, hands clammy on his gloves, suddenly sweatier than they were, taking just a few more steps without realising and suddenly the room feels tight, you’re both really close to each other, he can see the light flush on your cheeks but brushes it off for another different reason, maybe you have allergies or something, who knows?

“I f — found this.” You smile briefly before raising the it up on his face, a glass shard with hints of blood.

Spencer nods, mostly staring at your face than anything else as you look at him expectantly, clearing his throat before speaking.

“Yeah it… has blood in it, that’s — that’s good for the case.” He pulls out a plastic ziplock bag, handing it to you so you can place it there, closing it for you in the process.

“Let’s just hope it’s the unsub’s.” You flash him another smile again, he nods one more time with you.

You both stay silent, he’s looking over at you and you at him, his body towers over yours, you can feel your heart beating consistently, he parts his lips as if he’s about to say something, but you’re both interrupted by Hotch calling you.

“We should — We should…” you point towards the door.

“Yeah, let’s just.. go.” He nods, you walk away in front of him, he follows behind you.

When you’re both back at the bau, you’re talking to JJ and he’s on the other side of the room, sitting in front of Morgan, staring at you, because he really doesn’t know how but he just can’t get you off his mind. He sips on his coffee, Derek notices where his gaze is thrown at, one of his eyebrow raises, it’s almost like you’re too blind to realise what he’s looking at.

“Pretty boy,” Morgan smirks, Spencer turns his gaze right to you. “Go to her.”

“What? No that’s… she’s talking to JJ, I’m just not gonna go to her and..” he’s quickly interrupted by the man in front of him, who’s clearly skeptical.

“Just go, man.” Derek grabs his mug of coffee, slowly pushing him to him before sitting down.

Spencer finds himself walking towards you, gulping nervously as you turn to him, his eyes going to yours before going down to your other features, the soft plush of your lips, your cheeks, the hair that frames your face.

“Hi.” He speaks, JJ raises an eyebrow, turning to you.

“Hey.” You respond, it’s simple, a single word just like him, the blonde understands and makes a move to leave you two.

“Would you… would you uhm..” he sighs, gripping on to the hem of his sweater. “Would you like to grab lunch with me?”

You turn red almost immediately, turning silent in the process, Spencer slightly frowns, waiting for your answer, it’s been just thirteen seconds and he’s already thinking this is a bad idea, fourteen and you’re still quiet, fifteen, he’s starting to think you don’t even like him and then finally seventeen until you answer.

“Yes, I —“ You chuckle, a bright smile showing from your lips. “I would love that.”

He smiles with you, extends his hand for you to grab it, you do, fingers locking with his in a heartwarming motion, taking slow steps to the exit.

“So, what would you like to eat?” You ask as you keep walking to the elevator.

“Whatever you want to.”

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supernovafics · 7 months ago

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•*⁀➷ ❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑. ❞✭・

supernovafics!

✭•*⁀➷ a modern fake dating steve harrington series ·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

in which a friendship is surprisingly born in an elevator, and a crush that feels hopeless is developed very soon after that. for what feels like forever, you debate whether or not you should be honest with eddie and see if he maybe feels the same way as you. but, you upsettingly miss your chance to say anything when he gets into a relationship with someone that’s not you. ultimately, you decide to push everything you feel to the side so that you don’t potentially ruin everything between you and him; because at the end of the day, he’s still your best friend. now, two years later, things have changed— there’s a break up, reignited feelings, and pining that feels worse and even more helpless this time around. a blind date leads to you fake dating some guy you barely even know with the hopes of finally getting eddie to see you as more than just a friend. at first, you’re hesitant and you honestly think that steve’s suggestion sounds a little insane. but, then you decide that perhaps it could actually, somehow, maybe work? you and steve haven’t even known each other for a full twenty-four hours before you two are shaking hands and agreeing to fake date for a month, and hoping that you both get what you want out of this abruptly thrown together arrangement.

warnings: modern au, college au, fake dating trope, Big Big slow burn, bestfriend!eddie, slight fuckboy!steve vibes, unrequited feelings, pining, angst, specific warnings will be tagged per chapter

author's note: ah i'm very very excited for this series! i had this idea since like december and have been up and down and back and forth with outlining and writing it for the past few months (its been a bit of a roller coaster to say the least lmao). but here it finally is woooo !! i'm gonna actually do a taglist for this one so let me know if you wanna be added<333

wc: 83.2k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

prologue — can't go back

chapter one — from the start

chapter two — how to fall in love

chapter three — easier said

chapter four — playing pretend

chapter five — somehow, it works

chapter six — keep it simple

chapter seven — in the dark

chapter eight — what this could mean

chapter nine — if there’s a next time

chapter ten — alone with you

chapter eleven — wishful thinking

chapter twelve — it’s all for you

chapter thirteen — i don’t ever wanna leave

chapter fourteen — maybe it’s you

chapter fifteen — let it all out

chapter sixteen — fragments of time

chapter seventeen — maybe we got it right

chapter eighteen — for real this time

chapter nineteen — close to you *

epilogue — nothing else feels like this *

#steve harrington series #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things series #thank me later series

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seeingivy · 1 year ago

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french toast

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

an: enabled by @babiemay thank her for giving me the BIGGEST best friends older brother sukuna brain rot i've ever had in my life. (ooc sukuna again btw)

**part of my best friends (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

based on the seventeen years that sukuna has known you, he figures that you’ve already worked up some type of overthinking storm in your head when you arrive at his apartment two days later. and he knows for a fact that he’s right, because you’re at his doorstep with a pinched look on your face, clutching your purse like you’re about to get robbed.

“hi pretty girl. did someone make an attempt on your life today?”

you can feel your cheeks burning at the term of endearment, so phased you can barely coherently respond - or understand - what it is he said.

“no?” you respond, nearly sweating under his eye contact as he smiles.

“then why are you looking at me like you think i’m going to eat you?” he asks, annoyed as he gestures for you to walk into the kitchen.

you feel your head run in a spiral, at the implication of his words, as he places his hands flat on your shoulders, and guides you to sit at the stool on his little kitchen island. the entire ordeal - the breakfast, the fact that he’s peeling off your coat and pressing a kiss to your temple, and the lingering touches - they make your skin burn, almost itch with nervousness.

he stands on the other side of the counter, leaning forward on his forearms, as he smiles at you. and you try your best to figure out what exactly it is that’s beaming in his eyes as he leans forward.

“pick your poison.”

you feel yourself pale.

“huh?”

he frowns, as he leans back.

“for breakfast? what did you want to eat?” he clarifies.

you breathe a sigh of relief.

“anything’s okay. don’t trouble yourself. i-i can even help.”

you walk over to his side, pulling up your sleeves and giving him a peachy smile, as he takes the opportunity to step towards you. your back hits the counter and sukuna makes it a point - resting both of his arms at your sides - as he traps you within his hold.

“talk.” he states, almost sternly.

“hm?”

sukuna leans closer, leaning his forehead against yours, as he takes a deep breath. it reminds you vividly, of two nights ago, when he pulled you straight onto his lap. and murmured into your skin that you were his pretty girl. and that he was going to prove it to you.

“talk.” he states, the tone in his voice irritated.

you look up at him, at his eyes razor focused in on yours, and spot no inclination of irritation on his face. despite the fact that you were almost positive that it was dripping from his tone. though, you always found him particularly hard to read.

“now.” he murmurs.

you sigh.

“what are you trying to do right now?” you ask.

he rolls his eyes. there’s the irritation you were hearing.

“make you breakfast.” he deadpans.

“is that all?”

“what are you getting at?” he asks.

sukuna often finds that talking to you is like digging a hole. that it takes patience. because he’s not going to find what he’s looking for forthright. but he knows for a fact that there’s something down there.

it’s aggravating. but he persists.

“promise you won’t make fun?” you ask.

“i will do no such thing.”

“sukuna.” you whine, crossing your hands against your chest.

sukuna finds this part of you endearing. because it reminds him of all the different ways he’s seen you. when you were four and barging into his house to play wii with his little brother, explaining barbie movies at the dinner table, and tagging along on his family vacation when he was fourteen.

and how after all this time, you still have the same tendencies. you bounce your right leg when you’re nervous, tuck your hair behind your ears when you’re finished rambling, and curl your hands into little fists and cross your arms - entirely unable to meet his eyes - when you’re embarrassed.

sukuna clears his throat, as you look up at him. and you know the expression all too well. that he’ll wait all day if he has to.

“no making fun. i’m serious, sukuna.”

“it’s almost like you know you’re going to say something stupid.”

“don’t call my feelings stupid.” you murmur.

“well, i’ll keep calling them stupid until you tell me what they are. i’ll be honest if you let me.”

this is something you can appreciate about sukuna. that he won’t beat around the bush. or say things just to coddle. it’s the same as the other night, where you told him about what happened at the bar, when he didn’t rush to your defense like almost everyone else does. and when it comes to this, you figure that he’ll be straightforward.

“are you trying to have sex with me right now?” you ask.

you look at sukuna, specifically at the way his eyes widen, before he breaks out into a laugh. and not just any laugh, because he’s nearly keeling over with how amusing he finds it. howling even. and it makes even more blood rush to your cheeks, humiliated for even bringing it up.

sukuna grins, lifting his hands up from the sides of the counter and wrapping them around your neck.you can feel your breath hitch in your throat, as you instinctively shut your eyes. he’s going to be straightforward.

“your feelings are stupid.” he whispers, right into your skin.

you pull back, staring at him dumbfounded, as he places one of his hands on your waist. and he’s staring back at you, the expression in his face slightly amused.

“that’s not nice.”

“i’m not a nice person.”

it’s frustrating. the tone that he uses with you. it teeters between placating and teasing you and you find it hard to decide which one exactly it is. and it seeps right under your skin, lets your irritation come to a head faster than it usually would.

“okay, well. sue me! you had no problems doing god knows what in my room the other day. and-and then you were making jokes about how you were going to eat me. the second that i got here. and-and you know how you are-”

“and what’s that?”

you pause.

“what?”

“you said you know how you are. well, i don’t. enlighten me please.” he clarifies.

sukuna’s pleased with himself. because he’s figured out exactly what it is, that’s brewing in that head of yours. and naturally, he has every intention to make you mince your words.

“you-”

you’re not sure how to say this. if there’s a polite way to call him what he is.

“i’m what? a manwhore?” he asks.

“no! you-”

“you think i’m a horny freak, right? that i want to lift you up, take your skirt off, and have you right here on my kitchen counter?”

you feel your eyes go wide, as you swallow hard, and feel the nervousness take residence in your stomach. sukuna senses it fast enough and makes his efforts to diffuse it.

“do you think i would only invite you here because i want you to please me? do you think that’s the only way i can enjoy your company?”

you can feel yourself getting too overstimulated, your head nearly steaming - at the implication, at the way he’s looking at you, and the fact that his lips are a few feet away from yours - and his smug grin crawling underneath your skin and making you twitch.

you cover your face with your hands, feeling the warmth on your palms, as you feel his hands curl around your wrists, prying them off of your face. and when you look up at him, at the soft smile on his face, as you can’t help but frown at him.

“no…”

sukuna smiles.

“are you lying to me?”

you deflate.

“maybe a little.”

sukuna secures his hands around your waist, before fully lifting you up and placing you on the counter. and he presses a lingering kiss to your cheek before he wordlessly starts rummaging through different cabinets in his kitchen and the fridge, fully intent on making you the breakfast you were promised.

you can’t help but watch him, as he muses around his kitchen, slicing vegetables on the cutting board and fruits on the side. at how he entirely discards the conversation you just had like it was nothing.

from two feet away, sukuna is very, very appreciative of you. because you’re not very proud. and despite your first attempts, you’re honest too. because he knows for a fact that your hesitation to state your thoughts is because you don’t want to write sukuna off as something so…lewd. even if you think it’s true. and that of course, any hesitation on your part comes from something deeper than him.

the deep seated distaste you seem to have for yourself. though sukuna’s entirely unsure why it’s there in the first place. he slices a strawberry in half, letting the eggs cook at his side, before he makes a residence standing in between your legs.

he hands you one of the halves of the strawberry, before popping the other in his mouth and leaning into your space.

“i don’t think you’re a manwhore.” you clarify.

“okay. i don’t think you’re one either.” he responds.

you smile.

“but you do think that’s the only reason you’re here?” he pokes.

“no! no, i don’t think that. i just-”

you sigh, placing your hands flat on the fabric of his hoodie, as you crumple it into your fists.

“sorry. i’m not very good at this type of thing. and-and you’re like…you know. reputation. and you obviously have needs! and megumi thinks you’re a womanizer.”

sukuna snickers, as you release his hoodie, and you deflate slightly. mainly at the fact that he’s not offended. and letting you ramble - and say ten different things you shouldn’t - openly.

sukuna doesn’t shy away from what exactly it is that you think of him. or what that godawful sea urchin megumi thinks either. because it’s naturally, quite simple. and somewhat true. because he finds it hard to stay in one place for a long time. and as you very keenly put it, he had needs.

though, that rule, as sukuna was painstakingly reminded of, didn’t apply to you. because again, you transcended any normal guideline that sukuna had. which is why he was keen on making you breakfast two days later, on his day off. and make your favorite, which he specifically remembers from the camping trip.

“i’m not sure what thing you’re referencing. and make no mistake. i don’t talk in tongues like you do. if i invite you over for breakfast, it’s because i want to eat breakfast with you.” he responds.

“you were the one who said you were going to eat me.” you defend.

“you were looking at me like you were scared of me. like how prey looks at a predator before it gets eaten?”

“oh.”

sukuna pushes off the counter as he starts plating the food onto and feels his ego inflate when you jump off the counter and cling to his arm when you realize what exactly it is that he made.

“sukuna. i love french toast!”

“yes. i’m well aware.”

"how'd you know?" you ask.

sukuna looks over at you, the look in his eyes so devious, that you know you've certainly walked into something by stating it.

"you told us. on the camping trip. you've always been my pretty girl. even when you were fourteen."

you barely have time to even stomach what it is that he said as he lifts both plates as he makes a gesture for you to follow, seating the two of you back on his kitchen island. and when you settle in, sukuna gets to pick at your mind, with the questions that have been stuck in his head for the past two days.

“before i divulge my manwhore adventures for you, you have to indulge me first. how many guys have you dated? or talked to?” sukuna asks.

you hate sukuna’s choice of words sometimes. indulge. it’s almost like he knows he’s saying words that make you nervous. that make the sweat accumulate on the palms of your hands.

“where’d you learn how to make french toast like this?” you ask, deflecting.

“i asked first.”

you swirl the eggs around on the plate - moving them from the left, to the right, and back to the left - before you answer.

“i had a crush on this guy named dean from sixth grade to eighth grade. all of the boys in school got dared to slow dance with different girls and he picked me. it was an awkward four minutes of halo by beyonce but i loved him after that. he was funny. and cute.”

“did you date?” he asks.

“oh, of course not. he started liking this girl named kimi in eighth grade.”

sukuna’s not exactly sure if this is the question he asked. but you keep going. and it’s intriguing to him nonetheless.

“in my sophomore year of highschool, i had a crush on this guy named parker. he was kind of nerdy, like the stupid type? my english teacher would always put us in group projects together, and when i asked him why, he said it was because he wanted us to get married.”

“that’s an appropriate thing to say to a fifteen year old.” sukuna bites.

“no! my teacher had this dream to go to two of his students weddings, that met in his class.”

“and what killed that extremely inapprorpiate dream, dead in its tracks?”

“my best friend. we all somehow ended up in the same friends group our junior year. and they kind of started flirting. dated all the way till our freshman year of college.” you respond.

sukuna curbs the question that comes to the forefront of his mind. because it occurs to him that his plausible answer to it, one that he despises, is exactly what’s going to be the answer. that if they liked each other, you were going to let them. despite the fact that you liked him first.

“any more for me?” sukuna asks.

“my first boyfriend was in my senior year of highschool.”

sukuna feigns shock, as you fight the urge to laugh.

“have we finally arrived to a real boyfriend?”

you laugh, as you settle your hand into his underneath the table. there’s something so inviting about him, the way he’s hanging off the ends of your words and listening intently, that makes you continue.

“we don’t speak his name.” you state.

“oh?”

“he’s not a good guy. we dated until….my freshman year of college. december. and we officially stopped talking the summer of my sophomore year.” you state.

sukuna bites the urge to ask every question in his mind. on who this guy is, why you continued to talk to him almost an entire year after, and most importantly, why you haven’t talked to anyone else since.

except for him anyways. for the first time, sukuna finds himself being the exception. in a way that’s favorable to him.

“that’s all of them! your turn.”

sukuna smiles.

“that’s all?”

“mhm! it’s kind of boring, i’m assuming. in comparison to you.”

sukuna concludes one thing. that all three of these men, especially the last, were not deserving of you. in the slightest. and that each one had wrecked a sizeable amount of havoc. he curses himself for not paying attention when he was still there.

“oh definitely. you’d need to stay here all day if you wanted to here that.”

you smile brightly.

“that can be arranged.” you respond.

sukuna leans forward, lips a few feet away from yours, before he speaks again.

“you like to play hard to get, don’t you?” sukuna asks.

“what? what do you mean?”

sukuna places his hands on the rung of your chair, before pulling it flesh with his own. and he tests the waters, by placing his hand on your bare knee, right near the pleats of your black skirt. and he feels you instinctively press your legs together, but make no moves to push him off.

“i didn’t make the list?”

you swallow hard, entirely embarrassed. though, your first real crush you supposed is naturally the one that you’ve denied, vehemently, since you were four years old and yuuji asked you in passing.

because when your eyes lingered on him for too long, after he fixed the wii controls and dutifully handed you both your controllers back - of his wii, that he was letting you play on - yuuji halfmindedly asked the question.

why are you looking at him like that? do you like him or something?

it was a joke, of course. because yuuji just asked so he could start the match of wii tennis while you weren’t paying attention. that in the rush of it, you never got to consider the answer to it in full. though you suppose there’s no better time to answer it than now.

“i have this best friend. his name is yuuji.” you start.

sukuna’s alarmed. so alarmed that he pulls his hand off of your thigh, retreating it behind his back.

surely you didn’t really like yuuji. because that would stop whatever it was that was blooming right now. because he was not his brother, despite their identical pink hair. the farthest thing from it actually.

“i met him when i was four. and i barged into his house because he wanted me to play wii with him. you see, his big brother didn’t really like to play with him so he figured that i was the next best thing.” you state.

“he had greasy hands. so did you. it was disgusting.” he states.

“and yuuji didn’t know how to turn on the game. or-or remember which one it was in. so he called his very cool, much older brother, to help us. i’d never met a six year old before, and naturally if i had, i wouldn’t have thought he was so cool.”

“shut up.”

sukuna desperately wants you to continue.

“seemed like the real serious type. kind of quiet. dark blue shirt, black shorts. the socks that only go to your ankles. i didn’t even know that his name was sukuna until a few days later, when he walked with us to school. he didn’t even introduce himself to me.”

“did you want to know him that badly?”

“and he fixed the remote, obviously. had some six year knowledge we didn’t clearly. and-and he turned to me. gave me a smile before he handed one to me and walked away.” you state, shrugging at him.

sukuna’s satiated with your answer. mostly because, it seems you seem to remember the ordeal in as excruticating detail as he has. that you were wearing a pink dress, gold earrings, and a ribbon in your hair. that your skin was the softest he had ever felt, that you were the first girl who had brushed fingers with him when he handed you the remote, save for his mom of course

sukuna brings his hand back into your hair, feeling the fabric of the blue ribbon in your hair today, matching with the short cardigan that you were wearing. and he wants to keep this one too. yank it out of your hair and secure it to his keys next to the pink one he refused to return.

sukuna looks down at the fabric, at your hair sprawled over your shoulder. he can make out the length of your collarbone from underneath your tanktop and settles his lips right into divot, before pressing a lingering kiss into your skin and feeling you keel over in his arms.

“france.” he murmurs, right into your skin.

“what’s that?” you ask, dazed from the contact.

“i learned to make the french toast in france.”

he kisses up the length of your neck, making no inclination to stop even as you barely stutter your words out. and for the second time, can't resist and places his hands on your waist just to pull you straight on top of him.

"makes sense. that's just-just toast for them." you mumble.

sukuna can't help but laugh. he's never going to tire of you.

next part linked here

taglist: @ghostreadersthings @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks

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joshslater · 7 months ago

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Resizing

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

"Care to make it more interesting?" the guy said. We were both about the same age, size, and build. Me, a ginger electronics engineer student dedicated to exercise for years, and recently getting serious with bodybuilding, and he, a Latino who obviously didn't skip gym or his meal plan too often. I guess that was why he'd asked me to spot for him at the barbell. He returned the favor and I felt the need to use the same weight as him and do his reps plus one. That led into testosterone fueled adventure hunt through the gym where we one-upped each other on various equipment and exercises. No one else was in there at this hour. Very mature behavior conducive to optimal results, not. We'd likely regret this the rest of the week.

"Interesting how?" We were standing under the pull-up bars.

"Most pull-ups win muscle and size."

"Isn't that always the prize?" I asked.

"I suppose it is. Chin must come above the bar and then the head fully below it for it to count. Are you in?" He held out his hand. I shook it.

"I'm game," and took a small jump up to the bar and started without any hesitation. I could feel fatigue from what we had done previously, but I tuned it out best as I could. He was counting. I came past eight pretty smoothly, but then I started to struggle. I would have hoped to at least would be past twelve by that point. By thirteen I had to really push it to get number fourteen above the bar, but then I had to give up. I felt a bit disappointed, as I normally can go past fifteen, but he should be just as tired as I.

"Strong going," he congratulated and slapped my shoulder. Then he leaped to the bar, also trying to show off, and began. While it didn't look easy for him, I couldn't see him struggling too bad either, rhythmically going up and down, perhaps slowly getting closer to the agreed limit above the bar. "Ten. Eleven. Twelve." His pace didn't falter. "Thirteen. Fourteen." He made a little smirk. "Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen." That last one wasn't perhaps a legal pull-up, but I had already lost. Perhaps he felt it too, so he dropped down to the floor.

"Fuck, I'm tired," he said, no need to pretend anymore. "Well, at least I won. I shall claim my prize," and he grabbed my hand again. Suddenly I was in agony. It felt like the dull day-after-soreness after a particularly grueling gym session, but there was more to it. It felt like I couldn't move anymore, at least not much. I wasn't frozen in place, but my body refused to detach from him, refused from stepping away. I was hot. I could feel droplets of sweat running down my body, and my eyes were watering up, making the entire room hard to see. But I could see that everything was somehow shifting.

Once he let go I felt unsteady, my body still in flames and sore as hell. His face however wasn't in front of me anymore. Instead I stared right into his chest. I looked down at my body. Years worth of work was gone. It was still an athletic body, but all definition in arms and legs were gone. Pecs and shoulders like any track and field student. "What the hell did you do!" I shouted.

"Muscle and size," he said calmly and flexed his now much larger arm. He looked down at me. "Don't worry. Girls like short boys with abs. Boys too I guess."

"Fuck you! Turn me back!"

"Or what? You're going to tell someone a guy you don't know stole your height at the gym?"

He had a point there. If I hadn't just seen it happen it would be completely unbelievable to me too.

"Just be the bigger man," he said and walked towards the showers.

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slytherinslut0 · 1 year ago

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MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Three- Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Thèos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, PURE SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Oral Sex (M Rec), Throat Fucking, Toxic Behaviour, Blackmail, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Humiliation, Manipulation, Gagging, Spitting, DubCon, CNC.

**here’s: one, two, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen & twenty.

As you approached the door of the familiar private classroom, a subtle sense of unease gnawed at the edges of your confidence.

Admittedly you got lost in the depths of your homework after dinner, becoming absorbed in the swirls of ink on your parchment, diligently crafting your Astronomy essay due in a mere three weeks from now. The minutes seemingly slipped away, and you realized you were running late for today's tutoring session, the devastating consequence of your intense focus on your academic obligations.

However, considering Mattheo's habitual tardiness--one of which he has mastered as well as any given art form--you assumed your delay wouldn't be at all consequential, and would most likely even go unnoticed. So without really thinking twice about it, you gently pushed open the door, expecting the room to be empty, the usual silence welcoming you as you stepped inside.

But then, to your astonishment, the room was not vacant. There he was, Mattheo Riddle, perched on the chair with an air of casual authority. His long legs were stretched out before him, feet confidently resting on the desk's edge, displaying a newfound confidence that sent a shiver down your spine. His arms were folded, his posture exuding an almost predatory assurance. His eyes, dark as the night and twice as intense, followed your every move as you stepped inside. The atmosphere crackled with tension, the weight of his gaze pressing upon you.

You closed the door with a deliberate slowness, the soft click echoing through the room like a gunshot in the silence, and his eyes locked onto yours, silently challenging you.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up." He taunted, his voice laced with a poisonous charm. The room seemed to shrink in the wake of his suffocating arrogance. "Guess Ravenclaws little good girl isn't so perfect after all...who would have guessed."

You rolled your eyes, a flush of embarrassment staining your cheeks as you awkwardly dropped your gaze to the floor. The weight of being late for the first time in your life was almost palpable, but you made an effort to play it off, attempting to regain your composure despite the lingering discomfort.

"Save the mind games for someone who's willing to play, Riddle," you said, slowly making your way toward him. "You have no right to talk, you're late every single week."

"Yeah but I'm not the one who turns into a sobbing mess over a less-than-perfect grade," Mattheo sneered, his tone dripping with disdain. "I don't have mental breakdowns just because I'm not the class's golden child in everything, and I'm definitely not the one who's about to graduate in merely a few months while still a fucking virgin-"

Your jaw dropped in astonishment at his audacity, a surge of indignation propelling you to slam your bag down on the desk in front of him. The force of your action knocked his feet off the desk, abruptly interrupting whatever sentence he had intended to finish, leaving him silenced in disbelief.

"At least I'm going to fucking graduate without needing someone to hold my hand like a child." You hissed, the words slipping past your teeth before you even had a chance to process them. "For someone who needs me so much, you sure don't act like you appreciate my help."

Mattheo's eyes darkened, a storm of arrogance and anger swirling in their depths, transforming his usual stoic demeanor into a deep scowl etched across his face. He rose from his seat, his tall frame looming over you, casting a shadow that seemed to stretch across the room.

"You think I need you, Raven?" He purred, wetting his lips. "You really think that?"

You steeled your jaw, strengthening your stance, ignoring the fact that your fingers were trembling like leaves in the autumn wind.

"Where would you be without me, Riddle?" You whispered, kinking your neck back to catch his dark, hungry eyes. "How many tutors did you have before me? How many other students tried to help you but couldn't stand your arrogant, no-fucks-given attitude, hm?"

Your words draped the air with a palpable gravity, silencing Mattheo completely--an unprecedented reaction, given his usual quick retorts. The revelation ignited a fierce ember within you, fueling your resolve and lending a sharp edge to your words, as if each syllable carried the weight of your determination.

"That's what I thought..." your voice was low, reverberating as a mere whisper in the air, something flickering behind Mattheo's eyes that made your lips curl into a devilish smirk. "You know that without me, you'd be here forever...maybe you've managed to manipulate me into being your little toy, but that doesn't change the truth about this whole thing...you need me, Riddle, you fucking need me..."

Mattheo blinked, the ensuing silence lingering for what felt like a painful fucking eternity--time seemed to come to a standstill, everything around you fading into insignificance, leaving just you and the cunning, arrogant boy with tousled hair in your presence.

When he finally spoke, You couldn't shake the sinking feeling in your stomach, understanding all too well that his words were laced with an arrogant twist, a prelude to something manipulative and cunning yet to unfold.

"You're right," he finally said, stepping closer. "I do need you,"

His voice dipped into a low, sinister register, and the corners of his lips curled into a sadistic smile, sending a chill down your spine.

"I need you to watch your fucking mouth," the touch of his fingers on your arm nearly made you jump, his hand grazing up and over your shoulder. "I need you on your knees begging for my forgiveness," the pads of his fingers grazed your collarbone, and before you could even comprehend it, his large hand clasped around your throat, the other finding the small of your back as he pushed you up against the desk. "And then, I need you swallowing my fucking cum like the good little whore I know you are."

Without wasting a single second of time his plush lips attacked yours, his tongue delving past your teeth with a passionate urgency. You were painfully aware of Mattheo's manipulative tactics, understanding that he was using your vulnerability to his advantage, and the rational part of your mind screamed warnings at you, reminding you of the toxicity in his actions.

Yet, beneath the surface; as his hands roamed your curves, his tongue explored your mouth; an unsettling, exhilarating feeling lingered, a strange sort of affection for the very dominance that should have repelled you.

The awareness of his exploitation only intensified the rush, a twisted form of affection blossoming amidst the wrongness of it all. It was as if the knowledge of being used had become entangled with your desires, forming a paradoxical bond that you couldn't sever. In the midst of the moral turmoil, a dark, irresistible thrill coursed through your veins, leaving you helplessly drawn to the very thing you should have despised.

"You've been a very naughty girl, Raven..." his lips fell to your jawline, hands groping your curves, bunching the fabric of your uniform within his battered fists. "You've been swearing far too much...you were late...and now you want to act like you have power over me?" When he sunk his teeth into your earlobe, you yelped, flinching as he tightened his grip on your hips. "Don't get it twisted, princess...I hold the fucking power here...look at what I do to you..."

Your entire body was tingling, your fingers latching onto the fabric of his white button up dress shirt for dear fucking life.

"Mattheo-"

His lips fell lower, rough hands gripping your hips and shoving your ass back onto the desk behind you, parting your legs on either side of his strong body as he pulled you against him.

"This is what I do to good girls like you...I turn them into naughty little whores..." he purred, licking a flat line up the side of your throat, your lids involuntary fluttering shut at the breathtaking sensation. "...naughty little whores who take my cock and swallow my fucking cum."

His hands slid up your sides, taking the fabric of your skirt along with them, and you gasped as you felt it hike dangerously high up your thighs, trembling fingers tugging it back down to keep yourself covered.

Mattheo huffed, releasing the fabric. "You're not used to being bad though, are you, princess?"

His teeth sank into your collarbone, creating a tantalizing blend of pleasure and pain that sent shivers down your spine. Strands of his tousled hair caressed your cheek, the faintest whisper of a touch sending tingles across your skin. Your lips parted involuntarily, releasing a soft whimper, while Mattheo's response echoed in a deep, guttural groan that reverberated through the air, intensifying the charged atmosphere between you.

One hand gripped your jaw as he pulled back, meeting your eyes. "Answer me when I ask you a question."

Your breath hitched, flames roaring in your veins. "No, Mattheo...I'm not..."

"Mm," he purred, wetting his lips as he stared. "Do you know what happens to bad girls, Raven?"

Your stomach twisted as he tugged you closer by the hold on your jaw, his eyes darkening with desire as they darted across your face, seemingly examining your features as though they were precarious and new.

Your voice trembled. "No..."

"They get fucking punished."

Before you could respond, Mattheo shifted his hand, shoving two rough fingers between your teeth, reaching for the back of your throat and forcing a gag. Your eyes watered, beads of salty fluid threatening to spill down your cheeks, but he was unyielding, gripping the back of your neck with his other hand to force himself further down your throat--holding you in place while he did.

Your entire body was in flames, your thighs begging, fucking screaming in a need so disgustingly dirty you'd never experienced anything remotely close to it before.

Mattheo groaned, low in his chest, his dark eyes watching every single ministration of your face as you gagged on his fingers. The hand behind your head relented as he brought it to his crotch, palming the insistent bulge in his trousers as he watched you; seemingly not having blinked once.

"Unbutton your shirt," his voice was a hoarse whisper, laced with primal desire. He pushed his fingers deeper, clearing his throat. "Seal those filthy lips around my fingers, and unbutton your fucking shirt, princess..."

You cursed the fact that his body was separating your legs because all you wanted, more than anything on the face of the planet, was to squeeze your fucking thighs together--to give your cunt any sort of friction possible. Every word from his lips was doing inexplicable things to your body, and the need between your thighs was growing so insistent it was almost painful.

Following his commands, you sealed your lips around his fingers, swirling your tongue and bobbing your head painfully slowly as you teased him, trembling fingers moving to the buttons on your blouse and undoing them one by one until your chest was entirely exposed to him--your lungs stalled, pussy clenching as you watched his eyes darken with desire while they scanned your chest covered only by your navy laced bra, the hand on his crotch moving more insistently now.

"My fucking God, Raven," he breathed, jaw tensing so tight it looked painful. "I can't believe you've been keeping all of that hidden this whole time..."

You mewled involuntarily as he grazed your chest with his free hand, pushing his fingers deeper down your throat with enough intensity to make you cough as his demeanour switched and he palmed your breast with enough force to illicit an exasperated groan. He was possessed now, something swarming his pupils that made your entire body convulse with unfamiliar and unabashed need; you were almost certain there'd be a pool of your desire on the desk between your thighs at this point.

Without warning, he abruptly removed his hands from you. Your lips, parted in anticipation of a breath, yearned for air before his mouth enveloped yours once more. In a frenzy, his hands hurriedly reached for his belt, driven by an almost desperate urgency as you both inhaled sharply through your nostrils. Your lips meshed together in a way that seemed to consume each other, as if you could breathe in one another during the kiss.

Once he'd successfully freed himself, he pulled back, shoving his fingers back into your mouth and yanking you off the desk, his throbbing length pressing against your belly as he shoved himself against you; fingers forcing another gag from your chest, watching you with a primal fervour in his eyes so intense it was intoxicating.

Pulling his fingers from your mouth again, he cupped his hand out in front of you. "Spit."

Your brows furrowed in confusion, your brain buffering in attempt to process his words until his free hand shot into your hair, tilting your head until your lips were parallel to his palm.

"Spit, Raven," he repeated. "Spit into my fucking hand."

Your stomach contorted with a mix of disbelief and unfamiliar desire, your entire being thrown off balance. Each word that fell from his lips felt like a jolt, causing your heart to stutter in your chest. His eyes bored into you, searing your skin into flames, and without another moment's hesitation, you gathered the saliva he had coerced from you and spat it into his hand.

"Mm, that's it...good little whore..." He purred, bringing it down to his cock, rubbing it into his shaft as he stroked himself, eyes never once leaving yours. "Now, get on your knees for me, pretty girl."

Your breath caught in your throat. He, of all people, had just called you "pretty," and you were certain your ears were playing some sort of trick on you. It was a compliment you never expected from him, someone you had never imagined would see you in such a way. Pulling your lip between your teeth, you did as he said, squeezing your thighs together as you situated yourself in front of his feet.

Mattheo's hand remained in your hair, firmly gripping a fistful as he stroked himself. "Hands behind your back, Raven..." he muttered. "Let me see those delicious fucking tits of yours."

Your entire body shuddered, immediately clasping your hands together behind you without a second thought.

"That's it...fuck-" he was stroking himself faster, the veins in his hands tensing with every movement. You weren't sure who was enjoying this more, him or you. "You want this, princess? You want this cock in your dirty little mouth?"

Your throat was drier than the desert, each swallow a struggle against the arid emptiness within. Fingernails dug into your own flesh with a fierce intensity, the pressure threatening to break through the skin, mirroring the internal turmoil that gripped you. Holy fucking shit.

"Yes..." your voice was a pathetic whisper.

"Don't be so modest, Raven," he sneered, slowing his pace, twisting his wrist as he stroked his shaft, eyes never once leaving yours. "Beg for it."

Your stomach was in your throat. You'd never done anything like that before, you weren’t even really sure how. "I...um-please, Mattheo..."

His eyes fluttered shut for the briefest moment, a flicker of amusement dancing across his features before he locked eyes with you once more, his arrogance wrapping around the room like a suffocating cloak.

"Bloody hell, I said beg for it...does the prissy little princess not know how to fucking beg?" his voice was a hoarse growl, his vocal cords strained with lust. "Tell me how bad you want my cock, Raven, tell me how much you need it."

You couldn't believe your ears; the turn of events in your life felt utterly surreal. Never in your entire existence could you have imagined that this is where you'd find yourself right now--merely a few months away from graduation, on your knees for the most suffocatingly arrogant delinquent in the school who was making you beg to suck his fucking dick. A man who only last year wouldn't have paid you an ounce of mind, who probably didn’t even know you existed.

Your cheeks burned, but you fought through it, the arousal in your lungs fuelling your words. "Please, Mattheo...I want your cock so bad, I want you in my mouth, I want to choke on it, I want you to fuck my throat until you cum-"

His grip on your hair tightened, simultaneous with the grip on his cock as he cranked your head back, leaning down to meet your eyes; his lips hovering mere inches above yours.

"My God, you're a dirty fucking slut, aren't you?" He purred, smirking so wide it reached his eyes, his fingers bruising your scalp. "A dirty fucking slut whose sole purpose is to let me use her mouth whenever I want, yeah?"

You swallowed, wincing as he jerked your head back further, fucking into his fist faster, harder. "Yes, Mattheo..."

He sneered, clearly loving every fucking minute of this. "Imagine if anyone saw you like this...fuck-you're fucking filthy..." his voice was breathless, if you didn't know any better you'd think he was about to make himself cum before you had the chance to suck him off. "Apologize for being such a nasty little slut and I'll let you swallow my cum."

Your thighs clenched in need, your wetness seeping through your panties at this point. Gods, you wanted him so fucking bad you thought you were going to die.

"I'm sorry," you pleaded, eyes wide as you peered up at him, nearly-speechless. "I'm sorry for being a nasty little slut."

"That's right..." he purred, directing the head of his cock toward your mouth, groaning as your pressed your lips to it. "Good girl...fuck-so good for me..."

Your entire body was in flame, hands still clasped together behind your back as both of his thrust tightly through your hair, absentmindedly sealing your lips around his shaft, revelling in his skin's heat, dragging your tongue along the throbbing, pulsing underside. Riddle growled, bucking his hips, and you took him further into your mouth, gagging as his tip slammed the back of your throat.

"You take me so well, Raven..." he breathed, head falling back on his shoulders, eyes fluttering shut as his hands urged your head along his length. "Can't believe a mouth that annoying can feel this fucking good."

You groaned in assent, sucking hard at his cock as he slowly started to fuck your throat. You were both struggling to breathe, both losing control, both lost in an ocean of primal, urgent carnality. Pleasure was straining your seams, ready to explode inside of you, drool dribbling in globs from your chin, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you tried to hold the boundaries of your sanity together.

"Mm, fuck..." Riddle's grip was crushing your skull. "I changed my mind…I'm gonna' cum on those perfect tits, princess..."

Your bones almost liquefied at this--but you steadied your knees, gagging as he started fucking into your throat faster, thrusting deep, your eyes disappearing into the back of your head as you allowed him to use your mouth as a helpless hole for him to fuck--singlehandedly loving every fucking second of it.

"Shit-" he groaned, eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck."

Your thighs clenched, brain fogged by a hurricane of lust, but when he pulled out, abruptly, your cognition returned--your vision clearing to an image of Riddle, red-faced, fucking his fist. Snarling, he jerked your hair, and choked on his moan, the sound stuttering while he shot the hot loads of his cum onto your chest and neck. He sucked down air in long, heavy breaths, waiting until the end of his release had dissipated, and then dropped you, stepping back to marvel at his masterpiece. You swore steam was wafting off your skin.

"Beautiful," he murmured. He pieced himself back together, buckling his belt. "Tell me how I taste."

Every inch of you tingled, chest heaving, jaw slack in an open pant. Keeping his stare, you brought a trembling hand to your chest, swiping his sticky cum off your tits and trailing it past your lips, slowly sucking it off your first two fingers. The taste melding with the mere prospect of what was happening elicited a low moan from your chest, and you shuddered, trapped in his gaze until you were finished.

"Salty." You teased, smirking up at him.

"Salty, huh?” He huffed, a devious grin on his face as he helped you up to your feet, rough palm grasping your forearm. "Important mineral for a balanced meal, yeah?"

You chuckled, heat swarming your skin as you stammered up to your feet, meeting his darkened eyes as you began buttoning up your shirt, taking in his newly flushed features--curly brown hair slightly sticking to his forehead before he ran a battered hand through it, brushing it back.

“Smartass,” you grumbled, turning toward the desk. “Next week we have an exam, so there won’t be a tutor session, you know that right?”

He released a breath, throwing himself into the usual creaky wooden chair beside yours. “Guess that just means you’ll have to do that again before the nights’ over,” he said. “You know, to compensate for next week.”

You rolled your eyes, failing to hide your smirk. “In your dreams, Riddle.”

“Oh, definitely not, princess.” He breathed, glimpsing you briefly. “In my dreams you do a hell of a lot more than that.”

——————

Chapter four->

1K notes · View notes

animasolaoriginal · 6 months ago

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I n f a t u a t e d ♦️THREE

CHAPTER ONE◾TWO THREE FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN ELEVEN◾TWELVE◾️THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN◾EIGHTEEN◾NINETEEN◾TWENTY

He finds out the girl he picked up on a whim is the perfect candidate. So innocent, so submissive already, with just the right amount of Daddy issues. But she still has a lot to learn, and he's determined to teach her everything.

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Sex toys. Fingering. Cunnilingus. Orgasm denial. Oral sex/deepthroating. Anal play. Creampies. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 4.9k

TWO 🟥 THREE 🟥 FOUR

He's surprised how quickly she adjusted to her new surroundings, to the things he's asked of her, forced on her. Maybe she's still feeling the after-effects of the drug he's given her last night, maybe she doesn't understand the situation just yet, maybe she's simply the perfect candidate for this. To stay here, for him. She's barely putting up any fight, only seems embarrassed most of the time, but the way she's sucked him off has shown him how eager she really is.

Even though she still has a long way to go. Too fucking innocent.

She's that little ball of hair and limbs on his lap, curled up, melting into him, small hands that have been around his cock now gripping his shirt. Feet tucked under his thigh, deep little breaths against his chest. It's been only a few hours, and she's already so submissive. He's almost disappointed he didn't get to break her first. But maybe her defiance is yet to come. He's certainly looking forward to it.

His phone chimes on the coffee table, and he throws a quick look at the display. The courier is here. Good. Without a word, he stands, picking her up effortlessly. She hums against him, leans into him as he carries her into the bedroom. When he puts her down on the bed, leaning over her for a moment, he meets her hooded eyes. So pliant, so innocent. He can't help but lean down further to press his lips to hers.

She melts into the mattress as he pushes her deeper, putting his weight on her, elbows on either side of her shoulders as he gives himself a few minutes of a bit more much-needed pleasure before he has to leave her. She's hesitant at first, but as soon as he slips his tongue between her lips, her own jumps into action. A groan escapes him as she kisses him back with more and more confidence. His fingers dig into her hair, their tongues wrestling, his cock stirs back to life against the fabric of his pants.

He leans back abruptly, breathing a little harder, the girl beneath him panting as well, her lips parted and red, glistening. Her eyes on him. “I gotta take care of something,” he tells her quietly. She only blinks. “Be a good girl and wait here for me, okay?” The way her pupils dilate when he calls her that makes his stomach tense up. He's noticed it before, how she reacts to his praise. It's an intoxicating sight.

He crawls off her and stands, looking down at her small frame. White lace was a good choice, accents her innocence perfectly. Those little embroidered flowers barely cover anything, but it's still enough fabric to keep it interesting. She's beautiful, the way she lies in front of him, chest rising and falling, that flutter to her stomach, the little twitch to her thighs as she presses them together and tries to hide her sex. He raises an eyebrow at that.

“While I'm gone,” he says, a smirk growing on his lips, “I have a little task for you.”

He steps towards the nightstand and pulls open the first drawer, randomly picks some of its contents and throws them onto the bed next to her. Her eyes widen when she follows the gesture and stares at the colorful toys. He picks up one of the smaller dildos and braces himself on one arm as he leans over her.

“I want you to be very wet when I come back,” he whispers, gently taking her hand and placing the object onto her small palm. “Understood?”

She still looks at him in shock, and he can already tell she's never used any of the things he's presented her with. Another challenge, another thing he's willing to change. He leans back and looks down at her, head cocked to the side. His eyes narrow slightly when she doesn't reply.

“Understood?” he repeats a little harsher.

A tiny gasp escapes her and she sits up, nodding frantically. “Yes, sir.”

His hand finds her cheek, a gentle caress, thumb running over her bottom lip. He watches her intently. “Good girl.” The shiver that runs through her amuses him immensely. Patting her cheek, he then turns away and leaves her to her own devices.

Returning to his phone, he sends a message to the courier, and minutes later there's a chime on the door. His men are good, and fast, and when he looks through the things in the box that was brought up to his place, he nods in contentment. The things she left in the club, a jacket, a phone, case stuffed with some money, some keys and her ID. He's surprised that she's actually 19, when she looks quite a bit younger. Not that it really matters. His eyes scan her name, memorizing it. Fits her.

There's a folder tucked into the side, all the information they could gather on her, and the more he reads, the wider his smile gets. She is perfect, a random pick, an instinct, and it has still been the best choice. Alone in the big city. He checks her phone, swipes through pictures and messages. There's only one new message, someone congratulating her. Not many social contacts, no Mom or Dad or other relatives. Does explain a few things though. The girl definitely lacked the presence of a proper authority figure in her life, or at least someone who could give her the attention she needs, someone to hug her even, guide her through life, tell her what's right or wrong. No wonder she's so overwhelmed with his advances, yet strangely compliant at the same time.

Daddy issues.

What a perfect little thing that found her way into his clutches. He turns the phone off and puts it back into the box, then locks it securely in the safe in his office, before he focuses on the bag that came with the delivery. Clothes he ordered for her, more underwear mostly, some dresses, shoes. He doesn't plan to take her out much, not yet, so she won't need too many clothes anyway. They're just an illusion of safety for now, something she feels more comfortable in, before he'll take that away as well.

Grabbing the bag, he returns to the bedroom – and freezes. The bed is empty, except for the array of sex toys on the blanket. Untouched, unmoved. And the girl is gone. Something hot rises inside him, his hand tightens around the straps of the bag. He checks the bathroom, also empty. When he opens the door to his walk-in closet, he hears a soft little gasp, before his eyes move down to the far back where she's curled up on her side, wide eyes staring at him from under her lashes.

Like a beaten animal – and he hasn't even done anything to her yet. Not really, anyway.

He puts the bag down on a shelf and approaches her slowly. The dildo he gave her lies in front of her, just as untouched as the rest. She curls up even more, a little ball of hair and limbs, white lace in stark contrast to the dark rug she's lying on. He crouches down, hands resting on his knees as he watches her.

“What are you doing here, baby?” he asks quietly. “Are you hiding from me?”

She sniffles, shakes her head. “No,” she mumbles, wide eyes following his every move. Why is she so skittish all of a sudden? The drugs probably wore off. Poor thing.

He doesn't care. His hand reaches out and grabs her elbow, pulls her closer. A little yelp escapes her. He sits down on the floor and pulls her between his legs, she struggles against him but his fingers close around her arm, squeezing harder than he intended. She winces, a deep shudder rushing through her small body when he drapes her legs over his thigh, making her lean against him. One arm securely around her, holding her with enough authority that she stops squirming, he raises the other hand and grabs her chin, makes her look at him.

“What happened?” he asks, looking at her, scanning her face, fear and shock evident on it.

She averts her eyes, chewing on her lip. He squeezes her chin.

“Look at me.”

She does, with a soft little whine, blinking rapidly, eyes glistening as she meets his gaze. “M'sorry...” she mumbles.

“For what?” His voice is stern, and she frowns at his tone.

“For... for not... doing... what you told me...” she whispers, the first tear falling from her lashes. “I... I couldn't...”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why not?”

Her cheeks are bright red by now, her eyes moving over his face in frantic little flutters. “Felt... wrong...”

He watches her, letting go of her chin to move his hand straight between her legs. She flinches and yelps when his fingertips brush against her panties. The fabric is a little damp, warm against his touch. He doesn't hesitate and slips a finger under the hem, testing the waters. She turns her head away, whining softly as her blush spreads over her shoulders. “Do you need my help?” he whispers.

She only stiffens in his hold as his finger glides along her slit. Warm, wetter than he expected. He doesn't know why she was so stressed about this task or thinking she failed him. She's perfectly responsive. His lips brush against her temple.

“Tell me you need me to help you...” he breathes against her.

Her thighs twitch. “I... I need you to... to help me...” she mumbles out, burying her face in his chest in a little gesture of embarrassment. So fucking cute.

“Good girl,” he hums and kisses her forehead while his finger slips between her folds, gathers her slick and promptly dips into her entrance.

She flinches, but keeps quiet, leaning into him as he nudges her legs apart with his thumb. His finger slips in and out of her, her tight walls gripping him in a way that makes his cock throb. Her wetness gathers around him, quiet squelching sounds filling his ear. She lets out little noises of discomfort, barely-there whines, almost-sobs but in a way that doesn't seem too distressed. She's slowly adjusting, relaxing in his hold, her breaths deeper.

His thumb finds her clit, and when he pushes gently on it, she wails a little louder, her legs trembling, her small hands gripping the front of his shirt as she melts into him more. He keeps drawing tight circles around her nub, his digit pushing deep, in and out, faster, her wetness runs over his hand. The moment she becomes really still, a sharp inhale cutting through the air, he stops, pulls away, and she looks up with her lips parted, almost pouty, eyebrows furrowed, disappointed.

He smirks at her and brings his wet finger to her lips. She doesn't fight it when he slips it into her mouth, rubs it over her tongue and along her gums, pushes deeper. She freezes again, stares at him, but then she closes her lips around his finger and sucks, her tongue flicking around it, licking up her own juices. He pulls it out with a wet pop and leans down, capturing her mouth for a quick, deep kiss, sucking on her tongue, tasting her. She melts into him, clinging to him, but as soon as she starts to relax again, he lets go, leans back, leans around her to grab the dildo still lying behind her on the floor.

“Here,” he says and puts the small pink object into her hand. “If you want to finish it, do it with this.”

She stares at him, eyes wide, fingers curling around the toy, her face flushed. And then she shakes her head, catching him off guard.

“No?” he whispers, raising his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

Her breaths are loud through her nose as she holds his gaze, not saying anything.

He narrows his eyes. His first instinct is to grab the toy and shove it deep into her tight pussy himself, but he refrains, pushes her off his lap and stands, then grabs her wrist and drags her out of the closet. She stumbles after him and yelps when he throws her onto the bed.

Scrambling to her knees, her lips parted and trembling, she stares at him with her eyes wide in shock. He ignores her for now and walks to the bedside table, rummaging through the drawer until he retrieves a little teardrop shaped object, bright pink as well, smooth silicone with a little antenna.

A high-pitched squeal escapes her as he grabs her and pushes her onto her stomach, one large hand on her lower back, holding her down as she starts to squirm. “Stay still or this'll be more uncomfortable than it should be,” he tells her through gritted teeth. She stiffens, her breaths loud and frantic as she white-knuckles the sheets.

He moves the toy between her ass cheeks, pleased to see the butt plug is still in place. Nudging it slightly, he makes her wince. Pushing her legs apart a bit more with his knee, he slides her underwear aside, grabs her thigh to steady her and lets the small vibrator glide between her slick folds, and it's only a little push of his thumb before it slips into her, swallowed up by the tense muscles of her pussy. She lets out a strained whine. He wipes his palm over her mound gently, then tugs on the fat string until he finds the thicker bit at the end. The button clicks audibly when he presses it, and she gasps when the first vibrations shake her body. It's low, but still definitely overwhelming for her.

He puts her thong back in place and grabs her elbow, dragging her off the bed. Her legs are trembling, the low hum between her twitching thighs barely audible, but he hears it, sees her reaction to it, feels his blood pumping into his cock, the throbbing almost painful, and he wonders why he's taking his time with her. He could have had her last night, this morning, any time he wanted, fucked her hard and mercilessly, any hole he desired, and yet he waits, eases her into it, with a patience (or restraint) that surprises himself.

Sighing loudly, he grabs her hand and leads her out of the bedroom, she follows him on shaking limbs, too stunned to protest now. They reach the open kitchen, and he grabs her waist and sets her on the island, hears the faint clanging noise when the base of her plug hits the marble top. Spreading her legs, he steps between them, braces one arm on either side of her, stares down at her darkly.

Her eyes are wide, glistening, shock and uncertainty on her face, but there's also a deep blush and a tightness to her lips as she fights the sensations pulsing through her small body. Her hands fidget between her legs, a nervous little gesture. He rips them away, tells her to sit on them. She does with a bit of hesitation as she watches him with bated breath. He leans in, lets his breath fan over her cheek, then kisses the corner of her mouth, and there's a jerk in her neck as she turns her head, trying to meet his lips.

He pulls away before that, exhaling through his nose. His hands move over her legs, thumbs brushing along her inner thighs until he pushes them against the damp fabric of her underwear. Her wetness seeps past it already, staining the white satin bit, and he licks his lips at the sight. His restraint is slipping, he can't help it, he can smell her arousal, and it's driving him insane.

In one swift motion he grabs her hip, pulls her to the edge and leans down to press his mouth to her inner thigh, quickly kissing up the soft skin to where the little pink antenna pokes out of her. His free hand tugs at it, then he drags her panties aside and closes his lips around her folds. She yelps softly, body jerking against him. His fingers dig into her flesh, hold her in place as he laps up along her slit, gathers her sweet wetness on his tongue, drinks her up like a man parched.

She whimpers when he sucks on her clit, teeth grazing her soft, sensitive skin while he fumbles with the toy and presses the button a few more times, feeling the vibrations increasing, her hips jerking, thighs pressing against his head. Her noises are getting louder, helpless whines and mewls as she squirms on the counter, hands still squished under her legs while he continues to eat her out with a passion that he hasn't felt in ages.

Holding her with one hand, he tries to counteract her uncontrollable twitches, while his other hand rubs over her thigh before his index finger pokes at her entrance, following the toy inside. It's thrumming hard against her tense muscles, and he pushes it around a little with his finger before he finds the right spot, and that's when she really wails, body spasming against him, the heels of her feet thudding loudly into the cabinet as she tries to ground herself somehow.

He holds the toy pressed to her g-spot, still sucking on her clit, eyes moving up to watch her lose it in front of him. She's arching her back, head tilted upwards, chest pushed out, arms trembling before she can't keep her composure any longer and pulls her hands from under her legs and grabs his hair, two sets of small fingers with an iron grip that surprises him. Either to push him away or hold him right there, he isn't sure. Whatever the case, he lets her, gives her that one moment of control.

Her walls tighten around the toy and his finger, rhythmic clenching, her orgasm is so close, she's right on the edge, and it's that moment that he hooks his finger around the toy and pulls it out, leaning back, slipping from her suddenly limp fingers, and leaves her throbbing and panting, watches her deflate as her orgasm slips away again. A whine escapes her, and she falls backwards onto the counter, body convulsing without release, hiding her flushed face behind her shaking hands.

He straightens himself, licks his lips and then his finger, puts the vibrating toy on the counter before he turns it off. She's sobbing now, overwhelmed and left hanging. Poor thing. But it's not over yet.

Hooking his hands under her arms, he hoists her off the counter and pushes her down on her knees in front of him. She's too surprised to react, slowly lowers her hands and looks up at him, tears streaming down her red cheeks. Without a word or command, he unbuckles his belt and opens his pants, then snaps his fingers at her. Despite her trembling state, she follows the order instantly, automatically, that inborn desire to please stirring within her, when her small hands move up to push his pants and underwear down enough to free his erection.

The initial touch is almost enough to push him to the edge and over, but he braces himself, puts his hands on his hips and watches her as she closes her fingers around his length, slowly stroking up and down like he's shown her. Her eyes stay on him, watching him closely, and he tilts his head, pressing his lips into a thin line, a slight furrow between his eyebrows. He sees her swallowing, and barely a second later, her lips brush against his hot skin, the contact enough to coax a little groan out of him.

He watches her closely as she moves her lips up and down his shaft, tongue licking along his bulging veins, circling his tip, flicking over his slit, before she opens her mouth and takes him deeper. She's a little hesitant, careful, one hand still on his girth, the other braced against his thigh as she slowly bobs her head, lips closed around his tip, cheeks hollowed, the little suction really tempting his self-control. He wants her to find her own pace, get better on her own, learn to pleasure him properly, but he also really wants to fuck her throat and make her choke on his cock. The struggle is real.

His hands move to her head, a gentle little caress, fingers sliding through her hair, slowly nudging her closer, she shifts on her knees, the hand on his thigh pulling her into him. Her eyes are closed now, and he can see tears forming under her lashes as she keeps moving her head back and forth, the hand that's tight around his girth keeping her from taking him deeper. He feels her warm mouth, that little tongue flicking around his tip, hot and wet, sucking softly, almost meditatively, and he can't help it, he bucks his hips slightly against her, his cockhead poking into her cheek when she turns her head with a little muffled whine.

One of his hands moves down to grab her chin, holding her in place, head slightly tilted, as he repeats the same motion, pushing into her mouth, watching her cheek bulge. He hasn't noticed it before, but she's a natural at keeping her teeth out of the way, her jaw opened wide enough to allow him to slip in and out fairly easily. Her eyelids flutter open, and she meets his gaze, her eyes glistening, pupils dilated more than he has expected. She's enjoying this, huh?

He smirks at her, moves her head a little and tilts her chin up before he pumps his hips a little harder against her, more of his cock slipping into her small mouth. She stiffens, both hands now gripping the fabric of his pants, bracing, a sliver of panic in her eyes. He watches her closely, the grip on her chin hard as he concentrates, holds back, fights the urge to just fuck her cute little face. His breaths are quick and loud through his nose.

She holds still, doesn't fight it, and he uses that submission to move faster and eventually slips deeper, feeling his tip prodding the back of her throat. She gags almost immediately, a sudden reflex, her body convulsing against him, fingers digging into his legs, and he lets her pull back with a deep cough, saliva dripping from her lips. But he only lets her relax for so long, before he pushes his cock back into her mouth, deeper, to that spot once more, and she gags again, spit filling her mouth, coating his tip, yet this time he holds her head in place, and she lets out a pained little howl, muffled but clearly distressed.

Sighing, he grips her hair and pulls her back again, lets her catch her breath, swallow the excess spit. Tears stream down her face, her eyes are red, eyebrows furrowed, a helpless expression mixed with something like indignation looking up at him. A low laugh escapes him, and he grips her chin and pulls her back, cock slipping into her mouth, her tongue scraping along the underside, frantic little breaths through her nose, warm on his skin.

“Relax,” he tells her, and strangely enough it's that command that lets him slip deeper, past her gag reflex, further into her tight throat. It's only a few seconds though before she gags yet again, fingernails sinking into his legs, that little uncontrollable twitch as her body fights the new sensation of having her throat stuffed. She gurgles, desperate to breathe, too panicked to relax anymore. He pushes her away, and she splutters, spit and precum flying from her trembling lips, her shoulders shaking.

It takes all of him to loosen his grip on her, but when he lets go of her chin and her hair, inhaling deeply, she looks up almost surprised. Bracing his arms on the counter behind her, he closes his eyes, fighting the urge to make her choke again. That feeling when her throat tenses around his tip, squeezes him, it's something he enjoys a little too much, almost as much as watching her suffer through it, with her tears streaming down her face and her hands digging into his legs, that desperate struggle for control.

He'll force that urge right out of her, soon. Another time.

“Suck,” he grunts instead, standing still as he leans over her.

She resumes her ministrations, one hand around his girth, pumping and stroking, while she closes her lips around his tip again, sucking and licking it, keeping it far away from the back of her throat. She's shaky and sloppy, her wet slurping noises echoing through the room, her body still trembling, but she somehow manages to bring him right to the edge after all. He feels his balls tightening, his stomach tensing up, his cock throbbing in her hold. His hands itch, clenched into fists on the counter, his body shivering. So close. So fucking close...

A deep groan escapes his throat, and he leans back abruptly, grips her hair and pulls her off him, a sharp inhale coming from the girl beneath him. Her eyes are wide as she looks up at him, and he just ignores her, hooks his hands around her elbows and pulls her to her feet. She's that tiny body he can manhandle however he wants, and she ends up on her stomach on the counter, short legs dangling off the edge, feet kicking before he cages her in, one hand on her lower back, the other moving straight to the little shiny knob sitting between her plump ass cheeks.

Before she can comprehend what's happening or try to fight him, he drags her panties aside and pulls the plug out with a plop, puts it on the counter with a clang, before he grips his throbbing cock and pushes the tip against her sphincter. She lets out a surprised wail, her hands reaching back to swat him away, but he only grabs them and bends her arms behind her back, held by one large hand. She still struggles as he pushes further, forcing his tip deeper. He doesn't have time to prepare her properly, he's close to exploding.

She whines, writhing on the counter despite his unrelenting hold, and he watches her tight muscles give way to him, the grip almost as good as her tensing throat. His crown slips in, and he stops, letting it rest there as he strokes his shaft hard and fast, until he feels that tension finally dissolve. He comes with a deep grunt, arching his head back, feeling his cock throb and twitch in his hand and in her ass.

Spurt after spurt shoots into her tightness, filling her up until the first drops seep past the tight ring of muscles that clench around him involuntarily as she squirms helplessly, sobbing softly. When he relaxes against her, shoulders sagging, the grip on her arms loosening, he wishes he'd prepared her better, made her more pliant, open her up properly to take more of him. But this'll do for now. Once the twitching subsides, he gently pulls his cock out, watching her ass gape for a moment, his thick seed slipping out almost immediately.

He pushes it back in, feeling her tense muscles close around his finger. Then he grabs the plug and brings it back into position, holding her down again as she starts squirming more, the cold metal slipping into place, plugging up his warm cum. He exhales deeply once he is done, and when he lets go of her and steps back, he can't help but slap her plump cheek once for good measure.

She sobs louder, but remains lying on her stomach, legs dangling off the edge, immobile, all the fight gone from her body. He watches her as he puts his spent dick back into his pants. “What a good girl you are,” he whispers, noticing a wave of goosebumps rippling over her skin. His hands are on her round rear, gently sliding up and down, thumbs teasing between the cheeks. He fixes her thong, nudges the plug, smirks when she flinches at the motion.

Then he grabs her waist and pulls her off the counter, turning her so he can scoop her up into his arms. Despite her reluctance and the fact that she's still crying softly, she leans against him, needy little fingers digging into the collar of his shirt. No matter how hard she fights him, fights the sensations and experiences he gives her, she is clearly craving this, his attention, the care he gives her afterwards, the gentle moments after however rough he treats her.

It's a good dynamic. It'll work, he's sure. She will be absolutely perfect.

He carries her into the bedroom, carefully putting her down on the bed. She immediately rolls onto her side, knees pulled up to her chest, wiping at her wet face, avoiding his gaze as he watches her closely. When he leans down, she flinches, but he only grabs the edge of the blanket and drapes it over her small body.

“Rest now,” he tells her, straightening back up. “I'll order us some food.”

TWO 🟥 THREE 🟥 FOUR

End notes: Just a little side note on where this story is set: it could be literally anywhere (where there are skycrapers or a downtown area with taller buildings). I did not have a specific place in mind, could be any major American city, could be a bigger European city, anywhere you like to think of. It doesn't really matter anyway. (And if it is set in America, just imagine his club to be one of those more lax ones where the drinking age isn't 21 or at least nobody cares about it.)

Also, you may have guessed it, but our male protagonist is a little bit more than just a nightclub owner. I won't go into too many details, just know he's influencial, if you'd like to call it that. And definitely intimidating enough for anyone to bow before him, not just our poor girl who might just be a little in over her head at this point.

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Monday!

TAG LIST: @qmsvpx @cyan1decandy @bimbos-are-angels

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE◾

SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN

ELEVEN TWELVE◾️THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN◾NINETEEN◾TWENTY

#ao3 original work #dead dove do not eat #dom/sub #d/s dynamic #older man younger woman #size difference #praise k!nk #modern au #joel miller smut #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #arthur morgan smut #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut #original fiction

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kpopsexstories · 5 months ago

Text

QUICK FIX #19: NCT Haechan needs your naked body for push-up motivation

Member: NCT Haechan

Content: Sweet/cute, Missionary, Cumshot, Jerking off, Haechan doing push-ups on top of you

Type: MEDIUM

Word Count: 1,354

This story is part of my Quick Fix Dirty Kpop Imagines series. Check it out for more smut and other members and groups 😊

“Babe, come here,” Haechan calls from the bedroom. You come over to see him naked on the floor doing push-ups.

“What the hell babe?” you exclaim and laugh out loud. “What are you doing?”

“I've got that bet with Mark remember? I can't let him win.”

The sight of Haechan's body stretching out turns you on. The way his muscles tense and his ass cheeks clench while he works out. Holy shit that's hot!

“I need your help,” he says and stops mid air, arms straight below him. He looks at you with a huge grin on his face.

“What?” you ask suspiciously.

“Motivate me. Get under me.”

You think for a second, but it's an idea you won't turn down. You're already incredibly horny.

“We'll just end up making out. I don't think that will help you beat Mark.”

“Sure it will. I mean, no we won't. I'm already doing 50 a day, but I need to do a hundred. Come on, lie down for me.”

“Alright,” you say and start taking off your clothes. Haechan looks at you with a puzzled expression.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I thought you needed motivation.”

“Well, like that we'll end up doing a lot more than making out…”

“Probably. Now scoot over.”

Haechan quickly relaxes and rolls on his back. You spot his hard dick.

“Babe, you're stiff already…”

His eyes widen. “Yeah, of course. Just look at you!”

Naked and feeling naughty, you smirk lovingly at your boyfriend as you lay down on your back in the middle of the floor. Haechan sits up beside you and look at you with amazement.

“So fucking sexy,” he says.

“Shut up. Get over here and let's get to work. We can't let Mark win.”

Haechan returns to his previous position, this time with you directly under him. He positions himself between your legs and stretches his arms. You lock eyes and smile at each other.

“A hundred you said?” you ask.

“I've already done fifty though!”

“Doesn't count. I'll count for you, starting now.”

Haechan rolls his eyes, then slowly bends his arms to lower his body onto yours. When you're within reach, he gives you a quick kiss on the lips.

“One,” you say when his arms stretch and he pushes himself back up.

“Two.”

You smile wide at the adorable face above you.

“Three.”

His smile disappears as he focuses on working his muscles.

“Four.”

His lips feel soft and plump, so kissable.

“Five.”

You glance down, to see his stiff dick dangling between his legs.

“Six.”

It brushes against your folds with each deep push-up.

“Seven.”

Haechan's face is getting red, and his arms are shaky.

“Eight.”

He closes his eyes, visibly struggling to keep going.

“Nine.”

He stops, hovers above you and grimace. “Babe,” he says. “That's fifty-nine, okay? I told you I needed motivation.”

“Still nine,” you say and grin.

Haechan glares at you and giggles.

“Ten.”

You fix your position slightly, and enjoy the sensation of his rock hard cock rubbing against your skin.

“Eleven.”

You almost moan the number.

“Tweleve.”

Ahh, fuck this is hot!

“Thirteen.”

Haechan lets out a grunting noise.

“Fourteen.”

You suddenly reach down between your bodies.

“Fifteen.”

Haechan moans through clutched teeth when you grab his boner.

“Sixteen.”

By now, he isn't even kissing you anymore.

“Seventeen.”

You pull the dick head back as it tries to move away from you.

“Eighteen.”

The head pokes at your folds.

“Nineteen.”

It slides inside you, only to be pulled out when Haechan straightens his arms.

“Twe…”

“Ahh, fuck babe! Stop teasing me.”

“Twenty. Come on, don't slack! All the way down.”

Haechan groans, a mixture of exhaustion and sexual pleasure.

“Twenty-one.”

Your fingers wrap tighter around the shaft, and you smile sensually at the man seductively.

“Twenty-two.”

You play with your boobs, teasing your boyfriend as his cock penetrates you repeatedly.

“Twenty-three.”

“Babe, I'm done! I can't keep going.”

“Nu-uh! I'm far from satisfied. You better not stop until I am. Twenty-four.”

Inspired by your words, Haechan manages to squeeze out a few final, deep push-ups.

“Twenty…five…” you moan as his dick slides half way inside you.

“Twenty…SIX!” The cock pleasures your pussy.

“Twenty…SEVEN!” You moan loudly and squirm, causing Haechan to smirk.

“Twenty…EIGHT!” The pulsing shaft feels sooo in your hand and inside you.

“TWENTY-NINE!”

Ahh, oh my god he's sexy!

“One more babe… Please, give it to me…”

The cock slides inside you one last time, deeper this time.

“Yes! Ahh, fuck! Thirty!”

This time, it never pulls back out. Haechan is spent. He tries to stretch his arms but can't.

“Thirty!” he echoes as his collapses on top of you. “Holy fuck babe, that really edged me on.”

You laugh and wrap your arms around him. He pants from exhaustion, though not the sexual kind. He's worked himself hard and deserves a reward.

“Hey,” you say and push on his shoulder. “You've still got twenty to go.”

“Babe, I can't…” Haechan's breaths are heavy and strained.

“Come on, twenty more thrusts.”

Haechan, still balls deep inside you, starts rocking his hips slowly.

“Thirty-one,” you say as a joke.

You can sense Haechan smiling as he buries his head in your neck.

“Thirty-two.”

He raises his ass a little higher and pushes down a little deeper.

“Thirty-three.”

You feel his lips stretch against your skin. “Babe, I don't think this counts.”

“Thirty-four.”

His slack and spent arms suddenly tighten against your sides.

“Thirty-five.”

You shut your eyes and let your hands glide down his spine.

“Thirty-six.”

Haechan picks up the pace, suddenly having found new energy.

“Thirty-seven.”

He gasps and you let out a moan.

“Thirty-eight.”

You wrap your legs tight around his thighs.

“Thirty-nine.”

His weight on you feels heavier, and his throbbing cock hits just the right spot.

“Fourty!”

Your words get louder as the sexual sensation radiates through your body.

“Fourty-one!”

The speed increases further, Haechan still panting heavily by your ear. His cock stretches your lips.

“Fourty-two!”

He gasps for air and takes a firm grip around your shoulder.

“Fourty-three!”

His cute ass is hard a rock when you squeeze it.

“Fourty-four!”

Haechan begins to moan and grimace, his skin feeling hot and flustered.

“FOURT-FIVE!”

He fucks you fast and passionately, yet soft and lazily as his body struggles to keep up.

“FOURTY-SIX!”

You stop counting out loud, as your orgasm culminates.

FOURTY-SEVEN!

Haechan too is so close now, about to explode inside you.

FOURTY-EIGHT!

Suddenly, it's like he's regained all his strength as he plants his palms on the floor beside you.

FOURTY-NINE!

His body shoots up as he stretches his arms, and the cock slides half way out of you.

“FIFTY!” you scream as you climax, and Haechan does one last, powerful push-up on top of you.

“Ahh, FIFTY!” he echoes, grunting as he rapidly pulls out of you.

He grabs his cock and sits on his knees between your legs, and grimace excessively when he strokes himself fast.

“Ahh,” he groans. “Ahh, ahh, fucking hot babe!”

He erupts in a powerful explosion.

“Babe, you did it!” you say merrily, when Haechan's cum shoots out onto your stomach.

Haechan's whole body is pink and plush. His chest and stomach moves rapidly in and out as he breathes. His dick is worn-out but satisfied, and he stops clutching his teeth and opens his mouth as he empties himself with his hand.

Your have a hand on your stomach and the other on Haechan's strong thigh. Cum drips onto your forearm, and as you come down from your orgasm you stare wide-eyed at the adorable, sexy man towering above you.

“Holy shit!” Haechan exclaims.

“Fuck babe, you're so good.”

Haechan grins, eyes closed and his chest still pumping.

“So are you.”

You spread the sperm around on your skin. “Motivation enough for you?” you ask and smile wide.

Haechan starts to calm down. “Yeah. I don't think it counts though.”

“No, probably not. But hey… You're better than Mark.”

Haechan giggles, and finally let's go of his cock. “What do you know?” he asks.

“He only made it to fourty-nine.”

#smut #nct #nct smut #nct dirty #kpop smut #nct 127 #nct dream #smut writing #mark nct smut #haechan nct #haechan nct smut #nct haechan smut #haechan smut #nct haechan #mark lee #haechan #nct u #nct u smut

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theglassofmiddleearth · 2 months ago

Text

Imagine arriving to the siege of Gondor with Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas.

Orc: 'Late as usual, Pirate-scum! There's knife-work here that needs doing.'

Orc: 'Come on, you sea rats! Get off your ships!'

Aragorn leaps over the side of the ship, brandishing his sword. Legolas and Gimli nimbly land on the ground while Y/N trips over a rope and lands on her behind.

Y/N: Uh... noone saw that.

Y/N scrambles up with the help of Legolas.

Aragorn draws his his sword, advancing towards the orcs.

Gimli: 'There's plenty for the four of us! May the best Dwarf win!'

The legions of ghost men charge the orcs, over running them. They storm the area with Aragorn leading them. Y/N begins to draw near the front lines.

Y/N: 'Fourteen!'

Legolas: 'Fifteen, Sixteen!'

Gimli: 'Seventeen!'

Y/N: 'ARE YOU GUYS CHEATING?'

Y/N dodges a sword before spinning around and slicing the Orc's head off. She draws an extra blade, advancing towards the Oliphaunts.

Y/N spots Gothmog and a grin of malice appears on her lips.

Y/N: 'Hello there Lieutenant.'

She slices his axe wielding arm off before stabbing one blade through his chest. Y/N sneers.

Y/N: 'Seems like you need a hand.'

Y/N draws back both blades and slices his head off cleanly.

Y/N: 'Too Bad!'

Aragorn: 'Legolas!'

Y/N: 'Wanna go for a ride?'

Legolas and Y/N grin at each other, racing towards the tusk of the giant creature, scaling up it's ivory tusks and body.

Legolas: 'Thirty-three, thirty-four.'

Y/N: 'Thirty-five Thirty-six. I'm going to lose count..

She whips her head around to look for Legolas.

Y/N: 'Bring it down Legolas!'

Legolas swings to the rope holding the saddle up, slicing through it. The large saddle falls, along with the people riding the Oliphant.

Y/N: 'Those were mine too. I helped.'

Legolas laughs before running to the head of the Oliphant and shooting three arrows into its head, bringing the beast crashing down.

Gimli: 'That still only counts at one!'

Y/N bursts into laughter, a hand on her hip.

Slowly, Minas Tirith is taken back. The orcs are driven back and the city is swamped by the dead army. As the battle ends, The Dead King finds his way to Aragorn

The King of the Dead: 'Release us.'

Gimli: 'Bad idea. Very handy in a tight spot' these lads. Despite the fact they're dead.'

The King of the Dead: 'You gave us your word.'

Aragorn: 'That I did. I hold your oath fulfilled. Go. Be at peace.'

The wind wafts over the ghostly army, seemingly blowing away the men like dust.

Y/N grimaces and plops down. Drawing her hand away from her side.

Legolas: 'Y/N? What is wrong?'

Y/N: 'Nothing.'

She winces.

Y/N: 'Just got a nick.'

Legolas quickly kneels down, scooping her up.

Y/N: 'Wow look at you, ever princely, are you. I can walk y'know.

Legolas rolls his eyes, starting off to the city.

Legolas: 'I know.'

Y/N: 'Do you not have any questions for me?'

Legolas: 'No my lady. I have faith in you. You have led us thus far. Frodo and Sam must be fine for you to be here with us.'

Y/N sighs,

Y/N: 'I hope so, I don't know if I made the right decision.'

Legolas: 'Rest, you have done enough for today. Rest, my lady.'

Y/N:'If I didn't know any better, I'd say you held affection for me Ernil Nin (My prince.)'

Legolas: 'Rest.'

Legolas holds back a smile, continuing his pace to Minas Tirith.

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kkami-writes · 1 year ago

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waiting for us ― a skz social media au.

pairing. OT8 x fem!reader synopsis. At age 16 you either get your soul mark (in the form of your soulmates name somewhere on your body) or you become a blank, someone who doesn't have a soulmate. You've long lost any semblance of hope or comfort in the magic of soulmates, despite the fact that you have 8 of them. genre. soulmate!au, college!au, social media!au + written parts, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut cw. swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendos, skz should be in horny jail, eventual smut (MDNI), domestic abuse, sexual assault/harassment, implied/referenced self-harm, suicidal tendencies/thoughts, implied/referenced past suicide attempt, male x male relationships (skz are soulmates), polyamory, kms/kys jokes, mentions of homophobia + transphobia, lots of written parts, reader is really bad at feelings, ulzzang pics (this is more so to focus on the fashion), appearance of junhao, yeji and hyunjin are siblings, more to be added status: ongoing! / taglist: CLOSED! wanna support my work? consider buying me a coffee.

yn's accounts | the boys chapter one. go to horny jail chapter two. sus chapter three. welcome home cheater chapter four. you come here often? chapter five. sk8er boi chapter six. just a coincidence chapter seven. soulmate tingle chapter eight. down bad chapter nine. avoidance chapter ten. feminine urges chapter eleven. the whole circus chapter twelve. fairy boy chapter thirteen. apologies chapter fourteen. simp behavior chapter fifteen. not slick chapter sixteen. scooby doo chapter seventeen. screwed over chapter eighteen. back off hoe chapter nineteen. the gig chapter twenty. the plan™ chapter twenty one. yn chapter twenty two. a chance chapter twenty three. good morning chapter twenty four. totally subtle chapter twenty five. opening up chapter twenty six. howls moving castle chapter twenty seven. a deal chapter twenty eight. girls daye chapter twenty nine. girl dinner chapter thirty. the clit chapter thirty one. knight in shining armor chapter thirty two. masterpieces chapter thirty three. #NPP chapter thirty four. beach episode chapter thirty five. in the rain chapter thirty six. rumours chapter thirty seven. laser tag chapter thirty eight. cat cafe chapter thirty nine. bruises chapter fourty. sunrise

waiting for us masterlist part 2!!!!

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids smau #stray kids social media au #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz smau #skz social media au #stray kids texts #skz texts #stray kids angst #skz x reader

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cursedkeyboard · 1 year ago

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PAY ATTENTION ● Older brother Suguru & Younger sibling!Reader

what happens when suguru's cute younger sibling, who'd usually talk his ear off and cling to him, suddenly starts to... do their own thing?

Pairings: Platonic Suguru Geto x Younger sibling!Reader

As we know, Suguru is a rather mature teenager

He carries this air of elegance, always putting on a polite smile and spilling pleasantries past his lips like sweetened lies

But we also know that Suguru can be childish around the right people

So it's not a surprise to anyone close to him that when his younger sibling, you, stops following around like a lost puppy, Suguru immediately starts to sulk

You're only three years younger than Suguru, fourteen to his seventeen

You two always had a close relationship, closer than most siblings tend to have

Suguru loves spending time with you, to him, you're easily the funniest kid he knows

It's hard for him to ever calm down completely since he's constantly stressed with the sorcerer world

But every day when he goes home and you're in the living room or in your room, it's like he can finally breathe

Because before Satoru, you were Suguru's only friend

His little mini-me, partner in crime, best friend

You two clicked and moved like one, so in tune with each other he always marveled at how most siblings tend to hate each other

Of course, the two of you do fight sometimes

Over who gets to take a shower first, who ate the leftovers, who gets to watch what on TV

"Did you use my shampoo?"

"The one you keep hiding from me? Yeah."

"You little– That's expensive."

"That's why I used it, Suguru."

You two are siblings after all, what kind of siblings never fight?

But he never felt the kind of animosity and distrust so many brothers and sisters feel around each other, the kind that made them roll their eyes whenever they even got close to their siblings

To Suguru, you're his little sunshine, someone he'll protect until the day he keels over and dies

Not that he'll ever tell you that

(number one rule of siblingship: Never be too touchy-feely)

So imagine his surprise when the little punk who usually follows his every step, always under his elbow, asking him to hang out or help with homework, stays glued to the phone even when he sits in the same room

Like.... what?

You barely greet him, a half hearted "Hey, you're home." falling from your lips without even looking at him, and he's offended and hurt at the same time

You're fourteen, sure

He knows you'd start pulling away from him now that you have more than a couple of friends, more subjects to study, and... uh..

Puberty

But he thought it'd go away after a bit, that you'd go back to being his cute little sibling once you realized he is so much cooler than the kids your age

He'd walk past your open door multiple times a day after coming home, trying to see if you were going to invite him to hang out

He'd make tea with a mouthwatering fragrance, put on your favorite show, talk to your parents about going to a very trendy and fun place you'd surely want to go with

Damn, at some point he'd probably even talk to Satoru on the phone, loudly, because he knows you're curious about the pretty white haired teen who always teases you whenever he sees you around Suguru's home

But even then, nothing

Nothing at all

Suguru feels like he's watching the baby he helped learn how to walk turn into an adult and leave him behind

And as a big brother, he's upset, a little petty, and worst of all;

Sulky

Of course, Satoru and Shoko definitely notice, because although Suguru is quiet, he's not staying in a corner looking out of the window while listening to sad music and reminiscing quiet

And of course, they both make fun of him when he explains the situation

"And here I thought Gojo was the unreasonable one."

"Hahaha! I– I can't believe! You're sulking because the little brat isn't talking to you?!"

"Shut up, Satoru, and don't call my baby sibling a brat."

"Hah! You're such a loser, Suguru!"

Needless to say, when Suguru comes home and you're still glued to your phone in the living room, he's not in the greatest of moods

You barely look up when he drops his bag on the table

"Welcome back, Susu."

And because no one ever made a law saying Suguru can't act like Satoru sometimes, the teen flops on the couch and hugs a pillow, not answering you

That, you notice

Your brother always talks to you when he comes back home, even when he is all banged up from whatever they do at school

The sight that greets you is... something

Embarrassing, endearing, definitely pathetic for your big brother

Suguru is pouting, looking down at the pillow his strangling to his chest, his knees pulled up to make himself smaller

Not that it works, he's built like a bean pole

His shoulders brush yours, because even though he's mad, he still misses his cute– annoying little sibling

"Suguru?"

...

"Mr. Suguruuuu....?"

...

"Hey, what's wrong?"

He turns his face away, his hair slapping your face, and pushes more of his body against yours

"What the– Dude, you're squashing me! Suguru, what's wrong with you?!"

Suguru still says nothing, silently letting more and more of his weight to lower on top of you until you're smushed against the couch

Once you're a baby sibling pancake, Suguru finally opens his mouth

"So now you're paying attention to me, huh?"

... Huh?

"Huh?"

Suguru huffs, his hair all over your face, body much bigger and heavier than yours not allowing you to move an inch even though you struggle, and squeezes his pillow

"No, it's fine. Go ahead, ignore your big brother all you want. It's not like I helped mom and dad raise you."

"... Are you kiddi–"

"Yeah, keep your eyes glued to your phone, don't need to talk to me or don't hang out with me– actually, don't even look at me at all, since I'm sure you'd much rather look at your phone."

"You're being such a chil–"

"No, no, by all means! It's not like I miss you or anything."

You sighed with some effort, because Suguru is still on top of you and he's not a lightweight, and thump your head against the soft couch

Sure, you know you've been a little distant from your big brother

But, hey, you're fourteen now!

You have your friends and stuff you wanna do without your brother around

And, really, Suguru is a hypocrite

Ever since he started high school he wouldn't stop talking about the white haired cutie

Which you understood, if only visually because Satoru would often call you pint-sized Suguru

But he also spends time with other people!

"You do know I have other friends."

"So I don't matter to you anymore, is that it?"

"No, I'm just not gonna hang out with you all the time!"

"Well, you haven't been hanging out with me at all."

"Urgh!"

"Yeah, urgh."

God, you really wish more people knew about how pouty and clingy your big bro can get

Maybe they'd stop thinking he was this mature and chill guy

You groan against the couch and your brother presses his back down, pushing the air out of your lungs

"You're so annoying!"

"You used to say you wanted to be just like me when you grew up."

This guy...

You sigh, relaxing and surrendering

You're supposed to meet up your friends this weekend to watch a movie, but two of them can't make it so everyone gave up on it

Might as well use the opportunity

"Fine– I'm sorry, okay? Do– Do you wanna watch a movie this weekend? The one that just came out?"

Suguru stops for a second, letting some of his weight off of you and allowing you to breathe properly

He mutters the name of the movie and you confirm it

"Hmm..."

You can hear the smile on his face and you scoff, the exact same smile pulling at your lips too

"If you promise you'll pay more attention to your neglected older brother, then yeah."

Oh, you so want to take it back

But then again, now that he brought it up, you also miss him

If only a little

Like, a smidge

"Fine, I won't ignore you anymore. Happy?"

Suguru took a moment to answer before turning around to press a loud and gross older brother kiss on the back of your head

Now you have to take a shower

"Very happy."

He sounds smug and satisfied, finally a little more relaxed

He really did miss you so much

You're his baby, okay? Growing up too fast will only give him heartaches

And now Suguru can tell Satoru that you don't hate him

Everyone wins

...

"Hey, can you get off now?"

"Hmmm, no, I'm comfortable."

"Well, I'm not! Get off, Suguru!"

"Don't feel like it."

"Suguru!"

#geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #jjk suguru #geto x reader #platonic geto suguru x reader #younger sibling reader #platonic #sibling reader #jujutsu kaisen #suguru x reader #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #suguru x gender neutral reader

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sanjoongie · 11 months ago

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𝔽𝕖𝕓𝕣𝕦𝕒𝕣𝕪 𝔽𝕚𝕝𝕥𝕙 𝔽𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝟚𝟜

🥀These prompts are hosted by @thelargefrye and myself, masterlist can be seen here

🥀The following is a month full of Ateez smut. Minors, please do not interact. Various tropes and aus will be utilized as I see fit. This is both a challenge and treat for me as a writing, so I hope you can enjoy it with me!

🥀divider made by @cafekitsune on masterlist and all subsequent posts

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

🥀Day One: Deepthroating- Wooyoung

🥀Summary: when yunho leaves wooyoung to work on assembling the ship himself, you're left to relieve the stress wooyoung has built up

🥀Day Two: Cheating / Creampie- Jongho

🥀Summary: in which you're assigned the alias as Jongho's wife and he takes that pretty fucking seriously

🥀Day Three: Mirror Sex- Hongjoong

🥀Summary: When you chant Bloody Mary in the mirror to get a glimpse of your future husband, you see the Grim Reaper instead, but those aren't mutually exclusive

🥀Day Four: Public Sex- San

🥀Summary: When San comes to you, the local wise woman (read rumored witch), to get a bullet wound dressed, he's also looking to convince you to let him under your skirts, and your heart

🥀Day Five: Dacryphilia- Yunho

🥀Summary: you guide your golden retriever hybrid boyfriend through his first time and you discover you have an affinity for his pretty face when he cries

🥀Day Six: Auralism / Sensory Deprivation - Mingi

🥀Summary: one the full moon, you play a game of Find and Fuck, where you hunt down Mingi with only the sound of his noises as he masturbates

🥀Day Seven: Voyeurism- Seonghwa

🥀Summary: Seonghwa, in pursuit of knowing your body better for breeding techniques, asks if you could show him how you pleasure yourself. The alien soon learns he likes watching you, like all the aliens do

🥀Day Eight: Experimental / Nipple Play- Yeosang

🥀Summary: after an unfortunate accident with your shears, you visit the doctor, only to be surprised by his magic. fate throws you into a blind date with the doctor and then your curiosity gets the better of you when the blind date develops.

🥀Day Nine: Praise / Long Distance Sex- Yunho

🥀Summary: when Yunho calls you one day, drunk and missing you, you let him guide you through some stress releasing phone sex

🥀Day Ten: Hate Fucking - Yeosang

🥀Summary: when you claim that Yeosang was a man of no emotions and Yeosang demanded you prove yourself right, a passionate and hot sex session follows

🥀Day Eleven: Somnophilia- Mingi

🥀Summary: you make an agreement with your incubus friend that he can feed on you, if only while you’re sleeping

🥀Day Twelve: Mommy Kink - Wooyoung

🥀Summary: wooyoung is just a loser guy in the 2000’s and you’re the hot 2000’s girl that’s considering letting him go down on you… at a cost, of course

🥀Day Thirteen: Uniform - Seonghwa

🥀Summary: When your first mate successfully enacts a mutiny, you’re left with one simple task… to be his cum bucket

🥀Day Fourteen: Threesome / Ritual - San/ Hongjoong

🥀Summary: when San and Hongjoong decide to join your valentine’s day ritual, you get the surprise of a lifetime: a threesome!

🥀Day Fifteen: Femdom / Degradation - Jongho

🥀Summary: as the advisor to a strong lord, and the true power behind the powerful man, you often put Jongho in his place. He adores it, including summoning a certain knight to help, among other degrading acts

🥀Day Sixteen: Cockwarming - Mingi

🥀Summary: when you crave some time with one of your busy boyfriends, the compromise turns out to be everything you need with an unexpected surprise

🥀Day Seventeen: Body Worship - San

🥀Summary: San shows that you deserve to be spoiled like the queen you are, and why exactly he was the one chosen to be your first consort

🥀Day Eighteen: Size Kink - Jongho

🥀Summary: When a particular mission causes you to almost tip over the edge from hero to villain, Jongho is the soothing balm to take your stress away

🥀Day Nineteen: Masturbation / Edging - Yunho

🥀Summary: Yunho decides the best way to stop you from beating him in a race to create the best app in a technology contest is to distract you... with his body

🥀Day Twenty: Soft Dom-Sub / Roleplay - Wooyoung

🥀Summary: when you decide the healthy outlet to a rumored lifestyle with your younger lover is in fact to play out a scenario of a woman cheating on her husband with the pool boy

🥀Day Twenty-One: Aphrodisiacs / Overstim - Hongjoong

🥀Summary: Hongjoong accidentally scratches you with his poisonous tail, and the results because of your mating and Seonghwa’s genetically-spiced saliva, are pleasurable for the both of you

🥀Day Twenty-Two: Double Penetration - Seonghwa/Yeosang

🥀Summary: Yeosang is in love with his best friend AND his best friend’s girlfriend. What he doesn’t know is you have a grand Master plan to bring you all together

🥀Day Twenty-Three: Breeding Kink - Wooyoung

🥀Summary: when you took Wooyoung in as a stray hybrid, you didn’t think about triggering his rut

🥀Day Twenty-Four: Pegging / Feminization - Mingi

🥀Summary: Mingi got all dressed up for you to fuck him with your strap-on

🥀Day Twenty-Five: Free Use / Spit Play - San/Seonghwa

🥀Summary: a new club is opened in the Choi’s territory, your newly required husbands, in your honor and you arrive with Seonghwa and San in order to christen it properly

🥀Day Twenty-Six: Tentacle sex - Yunho

🥀Summary: an incubus thinks you’re a tasty witch snack as a widow, and it’s about to turn your day around

🥀Day Twenty-Seven: Cuckolding - Yeosang/Jongho

🥀Summary: not every couple purchases an android just for the purpose of cuckolding your husband, but it was well worth it’s weight in crypto credits

🥀Day Twenty-Eight: Predator-Prey / Strength Kink - Hongjoong

🥀Summary: when you and your gaming friend learn about a glitch in one of your favorite games, you exploit it on an erotic level

🥀Day Twenty-Nine: Gangbang - ot8

🥀Summary: as the office pet, your duties after hours are completely different

#joongfryefff24 #topaz's work #ღatz #ateez smut #kim hongjoong smut #park seonghwa smut #jeong yunho smut #kang yeosang smut #choi san smut #song mingi smut #jung wooyoung smut #choi jongho smut

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ilycosy · 1 year ago

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❝ FIGHT FOR ME ❞ | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing : luke castellan x child of athena!reader

summary — while being a child of athena, you've never been one for athletics or academics. you never succeeded in capture the flag, or gotten anything above a c+. it seemed that the only thing you were good at was being supportive, which luke never seemed to mind.

warnings : toxic!luke , enabler!reader , reader is bullied and insecure abt it , luke is a bad guy and reader thinks he's hot for it .

aﾉn — back w another work B) hope u guys enjoy !! i personally love when my men r a little crazy + protective over me <3 this is based on this , requests r open :) so feel free to req stuff !!!

being a demigod was hard as it was, constantly fighting monsters left and right never knowing when it'd end. most of the time, it ending in a painful and anticlimactic death, the pressure was constant and only grew.

now, being a child of athena, it really should've came naturally to you. maybe not reading, but still, being wise and strong was what should've came with the deal. at last— it didn't, and that really wasn't something that you could get over at a camp that relies so heavily on glory.

'glory', better known as kleos here, was something that every demigod craved even you. which is why you tried so hard to learn, sword fighting with anybody who would bother, attempting to plan for things with your half-siblings. but it never worked.

at first you were angry, angry at the world, angry at your mother. how could she claim such a screw up? you'd ask, and others would agree with you. taunting and sticking up their noses as if they were better, in a way, they were. not completely— but in the ways that mattered, they were.

then, you became bitter. you had met your shining star during this stage, at the age fourteen you were introduced to a boy your age, luke castellan. he came to the camp with a young girl, talking of stories about life outside the camp and the monsters he killed. holding onto the memory of a forbidden child he fought by, you were envious.

until he took a interest in you, constantly talking to you trying to make you laugh or smile. at one point he fell into a lake while trying to get your attention, it was endearing— and stupid. you never understood why he cared so much, or why he wanted to be friends so bad.

at sixteen, you accepted the offer. not having many friends due to everybody seeing you as useless— just another child that must've gotten accidentally claimed. you allowed him into your life, slowly but surely breaking down your walls until by seventeen there's nothing left to talk about.

the bitterness lingers, though he could never relate— until the quest. that awful quest that you cried to him about going on, wanting him to stay, half in fear of him dying but also the fear of the ridicule you'd face without him there. the lack of his reputation to protect you.

you had gotten harassed while he was gone, the constant remarks about how you were the pretty face of the cabin was back-handed at best to you. but you always sneaked off to his bed in hermes' cabin, crying into his pillow when you were sure nobody else was awake.

but when he returned, everything was different. it was like he finally understood you on a deeper level than before— your frustrations with your mother, not living up to the expectations of her, he understood. he understood and more, he was angry for you, for himself and every other camper.

he talked very little of the quest, the only genuine emotions he allowed himself to feel around you being happiness and anger. brief words of anger for his father and your mother, then hushed whispers of adoration for you in the nape of your neck.

you never fully knew when luke became your boyfriend, but it was never a secret. his head buried in your shoulder during breakfast, the hand on your back when he was hiking with you and other campers, even the soft kisses he gave your wrists publicly.

so he never understood why people had grown so confident— arrogant enough to ridicule you while he stands so close by. their loud laughs mixing in with the barely concealed hisses of their disapproval for you, talking about how you're the shame of athena cabin. how you've never used your brain, or a weapon in your whole life.

nobody knew when luke had snapped, all everybody could say was that it was bloody. the beloved camp counselor defending his loves honor— by pounding in another boys face, leaving him bruised and bleeding on the hard dirt.

all he remembers was being dragged away by chris, the ringing in his ears being too loud to hear anything other than "you got him luke calm down!" and "mr. castellan, meet me after you're done with the medic." before he was hauled off to the apollo children.

he remembers waiting, a long time. being patched up by an apollo girl, her harsh words of how stupid he was and how girls don't like violent men barely processed in his brain. he was on autopilot without you— he barely ate or drank until you were allowed in the medic office.

you had waited for what felt like years before you were allowed in, you couldn't help but bask in the spotlight for a moment after the fight, just thriving from the fear he had caused for you. you rushed to him as soon as you could, running your fingertips gently over his scar and down his jaw.

his jaw unclenched when he realized it was you, leaning into your touch he presses soft kisses from your palms to your wrists. he swears on the gods that he'd kill for you if it meant you touched him as if he was this delicate for all eternity.

"luke," you say, as if your lungs can't take in enough air. "are you okay?"

he almost laughs at how dumb the question is, is he okay? he feels awesome right now, a sense of pride resonating deep within him from the adrenaline and the attention you feed him as you sit on the medic cott.

"im fine, baby." he rasps out, running his hands up the tops of your thighs until he can pull you by your hips. your body flushed against his. "are you alright?" he whispers against your neck, the bandages on his face tickling you.

you barely know how to respond, you're not okay but at the same time you've never felt better. "im hurt," you mumble, being honest with your feelings even though you know his are bottled. "but im glad."

he feels another spike of anger, your perfect self should never have to be touched by the ugliness of others words. but he tilts his head to the side, almost as if to realize and ask why you're glad.

"you defended me," you whisper, quietly as if you're ashamed of how you feel. you bite the inside of your lip in shame before pressing a soft kiss to his head. "you fought for me, and im thankful."

his hands lightly trail from your hips and up your sides, gently leaving adoring touches in his wake before cupping your face. he leans his forehead against yours, looking at your lips before focusing on your eyes.

"id kill the gods for you," he whispers, his eyes darkening as your eyes light up. "just say the word, baby."

#cosywriting #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #castellanswrld

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