#welcome to smile dormitory

[nezuscribe]

slytherin!gojo acts like he knows what he likes in a girl. if you’ve ever seen him at one of their slytherin parties he’s either sporting some fire whiskey in his hand or he has his tongue down one of the other (pureblood) slytherin girls.

truth be told he’s never seen you, the muggleborn slytherin, at these parties before, and a part of him wonders if it’s because you don’t want or because, well, you weren’t really welcome to them anyways.

thankfully he doesn’t have to wonder much longer as he stumbles up the steps that lead to girl dormitory’s, supposed to meet up with catie (he forgot her last name), for a hookup.

when he knocks on the door he excepts a face other than yours, but a part of him is pleasantly surprised that it’s you.

“g-gojo?” you look like you been asleep, your eyes a little droopy, mouth open in a yawn, “is everything alright?”

he stares at you for a bit, his eyes raking over your figure, the pajamas you’re wearing and how even those were cute (they had little teddy bears all over them, something surely from the muggle world).

you were slouching a bit, your face staring at his as you waited for him to speak. he opened his mouth and then closed it again. why did you have to be so pretty?

he was a little tipsy, but not drunk. not drunk enough to pretend that his carnal desires were only being spured on by the alcohol in his system.

“is catie not here?” he asks, yet it wasn’t what he really wanted to say.

you blink tiredly, suddenly realizing what he was asking for, and you stutter, your eyes widening for a second in embarrassment.

“catie’s room is over there,” you motion with a finger behind gojo, pointing to the door adjacent to yours.

he knew that, but he’d never tell you.

“hm,” he hummed, not doing anything to make it seem like he was leaving.

“are you okay?” you ask, your voice quiet, as if you could already predict the raging headache he was going to have tomorrow.

if any of his other friends were around they’d most likely have some sort of snarky remark about how the prince of slytherin didn’t need anything to do with you, and how absurd it was that you were even asking, but right now it was just the two of you and he needed you more than anything.

“mhm,” he muttered, his blue eyes a little softer than usual, the smile on his face not cruel not taunting but…genuine.

“okay,” you murmur, nodding once as you rub at your tired eyes, too tired to even begin to think about why he was quieter than usual, “i’m ‘gonna go back to sleep now…okay?” you say it as if anything would stop you from going back to the warm embrace of your bed, but it was just in your nature.

but he doesn’t mock you, doesn’t jest or laugh or do any of the things his friends would’ve done had they been here.

he just nods once, his lips tugging up into a boyish smile as his hands find their way into his pockets.

“okay,” he repeats, watching as you closed the door, hearing the soft patter of your feet until you reached your bed.

that night he didn’t seek out catie or any of the other girls that slyly told them they’d be waiting for him, instead he just found his way back to his own dorm, a stupid smile on his face the entire time until he went to sleep.

[nottragic-stilltoothsome]

Everything I found in Szarr's palace, for all your fanfiction-writting needs. I haven't found any other post like this one, so i hope i m not copying anyone. Posting it here, because editing the official wiki feels intimidating. Feel welcome to add anything I missed.

Astarion's siblings (the other spawn):

Petras - one of the two you meet in the Flophouse.

Dalyria - the other one from the two you meet in the flophouse. Her diary can be found in the "guest room". Before Cazador turned her, she was a doctor, a "Physician General to the Parliament of Baldur's Gate". She thinks vampirism is a disease and plans on curing herself of it by drinking blood of someone young and healthy - other spawn's daughter, Victoria.

Leon Onufrio - before Cazador turned him, Leon was a sorcerer. He is the one whose daughter's (Victoria's) body is found, cursed, in the room where with the Kozakuran dictionary.

Leon put a protective counter-curse on her, to discourage other spawns from attacking her. Despite his efforts, Dalyria bit her, hoping it'd cure her vampirism. Needless to say, it didn't and Victoria died @easterlingwanderer found out that if you use "speak with the dead" on the body, it turns out that it was a random urchin and Leon did get Victoria out of the city on time. After removing the curse inflicting you with necrotic demage, you can loot a letter of her body from her father instructing Victoria to read said dictionary, so she can freely move around the castle.

In the favoured spawn room, you can learn that Leon was the one usualy occupying it (along with his daughter). His diary reveals that he put extra effort to be Cazador's best hunter, so he can keep Victoria away from others and that he came up with a plan with Figaro to disguise and sneak Victoria out of the palace.

He also notes that he doesnt like the way Violet looks at Victoria and Cazador's wicked smile, when Leon asked him what his master was planning to do with his daughter.

Violet - you can find her Diary in the Dormitory of Spawn. She notes that she put garlic in Yousen bed as a prank.

Aurelia - a tiefling

Yousen - @neophytepagan noticed he is a gnome

Other:

The chamberlain of Cazador was Antwun Dufay. In his diary, which can be found under his bed in his room after a successful passive perception check, it says that he had a lover Lurianna (a werewolf, who can be found dead by walking through fake north wall of chamberlain's office, or through another fake wall in Chamberlain's private room). He knew about Cazador's Black Mass enough to fake his death in order to avoid the threat of taking Astarion's place. Unfortunately for him, it seems he confused the actual death potion and fake death potion, and really died. His lover drank the other potion, which melted her guts. The actual fake-death elixir can be found in his desk, which puts the player in 10-turn coma. He ordered the elixir from Bonecloaks', where he also ordered most of the things the palace needed to function (like bloodstain remover, candles and food for "guests").

Godey - Cazador's right hand. Astarion says that while Cazador was the master of the palace, the kennels (the room where the spawn d be tortured, when they did something Cazador didnt approve of) was the domain of Godey. Godey tortured the spawn when Cazador didnt feel like it. Cazador trusted Godey with the key to the sealed ballroom for the duration of the ritual.

Through the palace, fanatic-servants cleaning the palace: Syrin - human, Greenfern - wood half-elf, Vilhelm - human, Varderola - also human. All of them are servants, who Astarion said are devoted to Cazador and came to the palace of their own will, beggining Cazador to turn them into vampires. Vilhelm is most noteable, as you can talk to him and he asks Astarion why isn't he downstairs, that he is late and the ballroom is already locked. If pressed, he informs that Godey has a key and that the Cazador is going to punish Astarion for missing the ritual (and from his expression, he seems to quite like the thought).

Chamberlain Dufay wrote a blooddonnors ledger, instructing the Spawn to favourite the lower class as prey, as too many missing patriars may drow too much attention.

The language Cazador uses is Kozakuran, from a distant land of Kara-Tur. Astarion notes that they were strictly forbidden from learning it. From Cazador's Journal you can learn that Astarion was not an unreliable narrator when he said Cazador liked torturing him the most: Cazador paid the most attention to him in the journal.

In the favoured spawn room, there is a ledger with the list of spawns who have been favoured (its only Leon and one time Violet).

Amanita Szarr - on her 13th birthsday, invited by her Uncle Cazador. She was invited to the ballroom. She became a vampire, but was not happy about it. She rejected her family name Szarr and named herself Lady Incognita. She claims she stays in the attic and writes stories. One of the books written by her can be found on Cazador's desk.

Mrel Alkam - vampire mastress from Athkatla that Cazador wrote a letter to.

[girlrotterr]

But I'm a lesbian!

ellie x abby x dina x fem!reader a/n: inspired by the movie, "but i'm a cheerleader" !! Did my own little spin on it. (This may have a part two!)

→ Part two! → Part three! → Part four! → Part five!  → Part six!

Forced to a camp known as "True Directions," your arrival was no choice of your own. Your parents, upon discovering your sexuality, had made the decision to send you there. As you followed your guide towards the dormitories, someone caught your eye—a girl with auburn hair, casually puffing on a cigarette.

Noticing your presence, the girl glanced up and rolled her eyes. Your guide gestured towards her, prompting her to approach you. Extending her hand, she introduced herself, "Ellie."

"Hello," you responded, your voice betraying your nerves as you shook her hand, noting its soft yet firm grip.

With a sigh, Ellie remarked, "they sent new meat here again, huh?" She took another drag from her cigarette, casting a judgmental gaze in your direction.

"I’m sure to be out of the way," you said, trying to sound confident. "I’ll pass every trial here to get back home."

A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. “Uh-huh..." she mused. “You’ll be here a while then."

“Ahem," the guide cleared her throat towards Ellie, who responded with an eye roll before retreating to her pink bed.  

"Very well then, I will leave you to unpack your things. This will be your dorm. You will share this space with three other roommates, feel free to report anything back to me," she said, her tall and commanding presence by her bouncing blond hair as she talked.

"Especially anything involving this one," she added, shooting a glance at Ellie. 

"Well," the guide grasped your arms, giving them a squeeze, "welcome to 'True Directions,' we'll fix you right up, dear!”

You gave a hesitant half-smile, trying to hide your discomfort. 

Returning your gesture with a bright smile, the guide nodded happily before leaving, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Silence. 

Clutching onto your suitcases, the silence became increasingly awkward, and you debated whether to speak up. Should you ask where to put your belongings? But the fear of annoying or bothering Ellie made you hesitant.

Fuck it.

"Um, excuse me, where can I—"

"There," Ellie interrupted, her tone nonchalant as she pointed toward a corner of the room, her gaze still not meeting yours.

Your eyes followed her gesture to an empty white dresser tucked away, starkly different from the others that were already occupied. Making your way towards the dresser, you took in the room once more. The overwhelming femininity was hard to ignore—pink walls, beds, and shelves adorned with stuffed animals. Setting your suitcase down with a thud, you unzipped it, the sound of the zipper echoing loudly in the silent room.

Opening the drawer, the scent of brand new furniture wafted across your nose, tickling it and nearly causing you to sneeze.

Ellie got up from her bed, pulling open her drawer with a tug. In it were an assortment of items—makeup, hair accessories, and jewelry jumbled together. Rummaging through it, Ellie let out a sharp exhale, finally finding something from the depths of the drawer.

Without a glance in your direction, she held out a ribbon and a few hair clips. "Here," she muttered.

Your eyes widened at the adorable accessories as she tossed them over to you. "Put your hair up or something. It's better not to have it in the way, especially during our routines.”

"Ah, thank you," you expressed, catching them. "Are these.. yours?"

"Yeah... unfortunately," Ellie responded dryly.

With a nod, you started to arrange your hair with the clips.

As you styled your hair, the weight of Ellie's gaze pressed against your back like a physical force. Every subtle movement you made was studied, from the way you lifted strands of hair to the careful twisting of the ribbon around the ponytail. Even the simple act of tucking a stray lock behind your ear felt intense.

What’s this girl's deal?

The intensity of her stare became almost suffocating, leaving your hands trembling slightly as you worked. Despite her focus only on your hair, the sensation of being under her gaze felt like she was peering into your soul.

Finally, Ellie broke the silence with a quiet, husky voice, her words cutting through the tension. "You need a mirror?"

Her gaze remained fixed on you, relentless.

"No," you managed to reply, attempting to be confident.

But the moment her voice echoed throughout the room, heat began rising to your cheeks, and you couldn’t help but hesitate. Her presence felt overwhelming, a mix of nerves, fear, and desire swirling within you, all under her attention.

“Hm..” Ellie replied, seeming more curious now. She uncrossed her arms and slowly walked over to you. You could hear the way Ellie’s footsteps made the floor creak as she walked.

"Hm?" you managed to utter as Ellie closed in on you, her presence surrounding you with every step she took. The breath from her lips brushed against the nape of your neck as she leaned in.

"You're missing a strand," Ellie said, her voice softer than before.

The sensation of her being so close, her breath teasing your skin. You wanted to turn around and face her.

Her closeness was so overwhelming.

As Ellie's hand brushed against your hair, a sharp shiver coursed through your spine, setting your heartbeat into a quick rhythm. Her touch lingered, fingers twirling strands of your hair, as she leaned in even closer, so suffocatingly close. It felt as though Ellie was on the verge of whispering something, her breath agonizingly near-

"Yo, Ellie!"

The tension in the room broke as Dina and Abby burst in, causing Ellie to let go of your hair and step back.

Their expressions shifted abruptly from excitement to surprise as they noticed you. Dina's curious gaze looked over, her head tilting in confusion, while Abby's cold stare pierced through you.

"You must be the new one," Abby remarked, her tone icy, her eyes never leaving you as if dissecting your very being.

"Y-yeah.. I am," you responded, finally finishing your hair.

Abby simply nodded in acknowledgment, while Dina chuckled to herself.

"Aw, the new girl is all nervous!" Dina's teasing remark was followed by a smirk and a playful wave of her hand. She shifted her attention to Ellie, observing her growing annoyance. Dina seemed to catch on to something, finding the situation amusing.

"Ooooh! Ellie was hitting on ya!" Dina's snickering only added to Ellie's frustration as she clenched her jaw tightly, arms crossed.

Abby, maintaining her silent observation, continued to stare at the both of you.

"Ah! no..she was just helping me with my hair," you replied, attempting to stop the teasing.

"Awh. Is that so?" Dina's teasing tone persisted as she continued to giggle, her gaze towards Ellie who remained annoyed.

Abby's gaze suddenly shifted as she walked towards you, gently pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. Her touch was surprisingly tender.

"There," she remarked softly, a smile gracing her lips, the gesture catching you off guard. It was so unexpected. "You had missed a strand."

Abby looked back at Ellie, a smirk on her lips, her eyes flickering as she made a mocking glance with her.

Suddenly, the camp director barged in, her authoritative voice vibrating throughout the room. "Ladies!" she commanded, making all the girls snap their attention towards the door where the camp director now stood.

Ellie groaned as soon as she heard that familiar voice.

"All of you, get out for morning exercise," the director ordered, her stern gaze scanning everyone. "Now."

With a swift turn, the camp director walked out of the room, the echo of her clicking heels fading as she left. Abby, Dina, and Ellie all groaned in unison, knowing what was to come. They made their way to their designated dressers, preparing to change into their gym clothes.

Amidst the shuffling of clothing, you voiced your confusion. "W-what are we doing?"

Abby scoffed at your question, a smirk on her lips. "Did Ellie not go through the routines and rules with you?"

You shook your head.

"Not surprising," she remarked before chuckling, "she always seems to get distracted-"

“We're doing morning cardio and stretching routines,” Ellie cut in, her voice clear and assertive, pulling out her sports bra and short shorts. “Your gym clothes are in your dresser.”

Abby bit her lip, suppressing a laugh. "Well, there you go.”

You nodded in understanding, “thanks..”

Walking to your dresser, you pulled open the top drawer, revealing a variety of outfits and uniforms, all varying shades of pink. The sight left your head spinning a bit as you realized this would be your life for the next couple of months.

As you began changing, you felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over you. With hesitant movements, you peeled off your shirt and skirt, the fabric slipping from your skin with a soft rustle. All the while, you were aware of Abby and Ellie's eyes lingering on you.

 Abby's gaze, though subtle, was sharply observant, her eyes tracing up and down your body with an almost predatory glare. It was as if she was memorizing every curve and contour. Meanwhile, Ellie's attention was more focused, her gaze lingering on specific areas of your body, like your hips and chest. There was an intensity in her stare, a curiosity that was borderline intrusive.

Slap! 

With a sharp sting on your ass, a sudden jolt of surprise chilled through you, causing you to yelp. "You'll make us late at this pace!" Dina's voice rang out, her arm wrapping around you protectively, shielding you from the view of Abby and Ellie.

"Ah! You're right," you exclaimed, quickly slipping into your gym clothes.

Dina gave you a quick grin before turning her attention towards Abby and Ellie. Squinting her eyes playfully, she shook her head slowly, teasingly disappointed in the two of them. Abby hurriedly looked away, pretending to be preoccupied with tying her shoelaces, while Ellie rolled her eyes.

───

As you and the other girls made your way to the track, you found yourselves walking together in a small group. Ellie and Abby led the way, showing no signs of slowing down despite your struggle to keep up. Meanwhile, Dina’s pace was slower, occasionally glancing at you.

"So, how'd you get caught?" Dina asked slyly, a mischievous look in her eyes.

You turned to look at her, taken aback by the sudden question. "What?"

"You were sent here for a reason," Dina said curiously, making Abby and Ellie turn their heads, intrigued to hear your response.

"I..don't think I want to share," you said, avoiding eye contact from feeling a bit nervous.

"Oh, come on!" Dina urged, now walking next to you, realizing your hesitance. "Don't be so shy. How about we tell you ours? Will that make you less embarrassed?"

"Hmm..alright," you agreed. Maybe learning about their experiences would help get to know them.

Excitedly, Dina clapped her hands together. "Okay, okay! I'll go first." She moved closer to you, her shoulder practically bumping into yours. "I got caught watching lesbian porn."

A snicker escaped Ellie's lips as she tried to hold back her laughter.

Dina shot a playful glare. "You have no right to laugh, El's."

"Doesn't make it any less funny," Ellie retorted.

Dina scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Since it’s sooo funny, you go then."

Ellie's eyes locked onto yours, her voice embarrassed. "I ordered a strap online, and it got delivered to the wrong address. To my fucking neighbor, Seth. Dude went ballistic and sent me here, said I needed to be controlled."

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks as Ellie's words sank in, full of curiosity and intrigue. The mere idea of her wearing a strap sent a flow of sensations that pulsed throughout your body. Your throat became dry trying to visualize it. 

"Ab's! Your turn!" Dina interrupted excitedly, Abby's story was always her favorite.

Abby smirked, turning her gaze towards you. "Unlike Ellie, I got to use my strap," she remarked mischievously.

Ellie groaned at Abby'scomment, clearly unimpressed.

“I got caught fucking my father's assistant nurse with it.”

Dina squealed as she shook your arm excitedly. "Now THAT'S a coming out story!" she exclaimed.

Ellie shot Dina a glare, clearly annoyed by her reaction. With a scoff, she turned her head away, facing in the opposite direction.

Abby, on the other hand, smirked at Ellie's and playfully hit her back. "Aw, it's okay, El's," she said reassuringly.

"Okay, okay, tell us yours now," Dina urged eagerly, her and Abby's curious gazes fixed on you,

“Well..” you began, your hands fidgeting nervously as you mustered up the courage. “My parents walked in on me and my cheer captain…” You hesitated for a moment before continuing “...69’ing on the kitchen counter.” 

Ellie quickly snapped her head back to look at you. Dina and Abby’s eyes widened, completely startled.

“Y-yeah…” you confirmed, meeting the girls' shocked gazes. “Mid-squirt too…”

Ellie’s eyes widened as if they were going to pop. Dina’s jaw dropped, with her mouth slowly curving into a smirk, “You fucking win.”

───

"Alright, ladies," the head director announced, her voice carrying across the track, “forty-five minutes around the track, as per usual. Afterward, we hit the showers in preparation for cooking classes."

"Remember, ladies," she continued excitedly, "these skills aren't just beneficial, they also attract men! It's just another step closer to becoming 'normal'."

The moment the word "normal" left the director's lips, you noticed the collective eye rolls and groans from the other girls. Ellie's jaw tightened as she stared away, grumbling under her breath. Abby crossed her arms, completely unamused, while Dina couldn't help but snicker, lowering her face to hide her giggle.

With a sharp blow of the whistle, the director signaled the start of the morning run.

As you began your laps around the track, you couldn't help but notice the effortless speed and stamina of Ellie and the other girls. They seemed to glide around the track with ease.

Struggling to keep up, your legs began to burn. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as you pushed yourself onward.

"Hey, you doing okay?" Abby asked.

"Ye..yeah..." you managed to reply between heavy breaths.

Abby arched an eyebrow, clearly seeing through you. "You do know we have about 20 more laps to go, right?"

Before you could respond, a sudden stumble sent you tumbling to the ground. Abby instinctively reached out to help, but her attempt only resulted in her losing her balance, causing her to trip and accidentally pull Ellie down with her.

Ellie hit the concrete hard, her knee taking the force of the fall. Gritting her teeth, she clenched her jaw tightly as pain shot through her scrapped knee. With all three of you on the ground, the sudden scene caused a chuckle from Dina. "Holy shit, you guys fell like bowling pins," she remarked.

"Shit, sorry El's-" Abby began to apologize.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Ellie yelled, her tone cold as she glared up at Abby.

Abby glared back at Ellie, her expression tense. "What-"

“Watch where you’re fucking going. It’s not that hard,” Ellie snarled, gritting her teeth as she noticed the large scrape on her knee.

“T-that was on me-" you added, feeling guilty for the accident.

Abby suddenly got up, her face contorted with anger as she looked down at Ellie. “I didn’t mean to, I-"

Ellie suddenly stood up too, her height making her have to look up at Abby. “I’m so fucking sick of you trying to assert something. It’s fucking annoying.”

Abby scoffed, “Yeah? I’m tired of your pussy fucking attitude.” She then moved closer towards Ellie, the sudden bump causing Ellie to sway a bit.

Ellie chuckled, tilting her head to the side before locking eyes with Abby. “Pussy, huh?” 

“You are what you fucking eat,” Abby snapped back, her tone sharp.

You got up from the concrete floor, every inch of your body feeling the lingering sting from the sudden impact. “She didn’t mean to, I tripped and-” you tried to explain, but before you could finish, Ellie raised her fist. Her initial target being Abby, who managed to step back just in time to avoid the blow. Unfortunately, you stepped further, positioning yourself between them, but before you could react, Ellie's fist mistakenly met your nose.

“Holy shit!” Dina yelled, her hand covering her mouth in shock.

You felt the impact jolt through your body as you stumbled back, finding stability in Abby's embrace as her arms wrapped around you from behind.

“Fuck, I am so sorry-" Ellie began to apologize, her voice filled with remorse.

“Fucking really?!?” Abby yelled, frustrated as she stepped you to the side. “You fucking hit her!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Ellie yelled back, her tone defensive as she tried to explain herself.

“Didn’t mean to? You punched her!” 

“G-guys, I’m fine-" you said, your voice strained through the pain, attempting to step towards them again, holding your throbbing nose.

“I was clearly trying to punch your bitch ass!” Ellie yelled.

“Oh yeah?” Abby raised her fist, aiming for Ellie, her knuckles clenched as she intended to give her a piece of her mind for hurting you and being such a brat. However, as you stepped in between them once again, Abby's fist accidentally hit you, the impact shocking you and causing a blur in your vision.

“Oh my god!” Dina yelled, her eyes widening in horror as she flinched.

You stumbled backward, the world blurring around you as you tripped over your loose shoelace, your body rushing towards the concrete floor once again, jarring your senses and sending a wave of pain through your body.

Abby took her hands to her chest, her mouth covered in disbelief.

“fuck, fuck, fuck! Are you okay?” Ellie exclaimed, her voice filled with concern as she quickly knelt down beside you.

Your nose was now bleeding, droplets of blood scattering across the concrete floor like raindrops. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, mixing with the scent of sweat. You winced as pain shot through your face, throbbing relentlessly.

“I think my nose is broken…” you managed to say, your words muffled by the blood dripping down your face.

“Now nobody can sit on her face,” Dina groaned.

[51voices]

Hidden Strength

Kinkvember Day 7: Femdom/Immobilized

Kiss Of Life Han Julie x Male reader

The sun began its slow descent, casting a golden hue through the tall, narrow windows of Julie's dormitory, and you could feel the enchantment in the air. The light filled the small room with warmth, turning it into a sanctuary as beams of sun danced like whispers across the furnishings. Each detail glowed in this soft, waning light—the small, well-worn books stacked haphazardly on the desk, the laundry basket in the corner that had long since needed attention, and the plush throw blanket draped lazily over the back of a chair. Dust motes floated serenely through the light, resembling tiny stars suspended in a gentle, magical glow.

Julie stood near the entrance, carefully adjusting a small vase of fresh flowers she had picked from a nearby store earlier that morning. The vibrant yellows of daisies and deep purples of tulips stood out against the rustic wood of the console table. Each petal seemed to tell its own story of the sunlit day that had just passed, stories that matched the bubbling thrill that flickered in her eyes. Tonight was the night she had been looking forward to—an evening she had imagined over and over in her mind, a night where you, the one who stirred her soul in ways words couldn’t capture, would finally meet her friends. She’d run countless scenarios in her head about how this meeting would go, spinning fantasies and rehearsing introductions. But now, here in the warmth of her room, those fantasies felt tangible, almost alive, breathing alongside her anticipation.

The dorm itself mirrored Julie’s emotions: cozy, inviting, and filled with a subtle lavender fragrance that floated through the room, calming her nerves. Soft light spilled from the delicate table lamps, blending with the gentle twinkle of string lights draped across her ceiling, casting an intimate glow over everything. It was the sort of ambiance that drew you in, evoking memories of childhood sleepovers, whispered secrets, and moments when bonds seemed to deepen in the flicker of a candle’s flame.

Then, the familiar creak of the door broke through her thoughts, and she turned, her breath catching as you stepped inside. For a moment, her eyes softened, her gaze locking with yours as a warm smile blossomed on her lips. It was as if the entire room shifted to acknowledge your presence, grounding her swirling thoughts and calming the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat. You, with your quiet confidence and easy presence, seemed to blend into the warmth of her carefully crafted haven as if you belonged there.

Julie moved towards you, her smile widening as she leaned in to press a gentle kiss on your cheek—a gesture both tender and electric, filled with the quiet intimacy of everything unspoken between you. Her fingers lingered against your shoulder for a moment, and you could sense the pride in her eyes as she stepped back, letting you take in the room. A hint of curiosity danced in your gaze as you absorbed the cozy details, the careful touches that revealed so much of who Julie was.

“Come on,” she said softly, her voice steady, colored with the warmth of belonging and a spark of excitement she could barely contain. "They are all dying to meet you." The pride in her tone was unmistakable, as if she was welcoming you into a part of herself she rarely shared, inviting you deeper into her world.

As you walked with Julie toward the living room, laughter and lively voices spilled over from the trio who formed the heart of her group—Haneul, Belle, and Natty—lounging comfortably on an oversized sectional. The warmth of their camaraderie seemed to fill the entire space, and you could feel how much they meant to Julie; they weren’t just friends—they were chosen family, each one a vital thread woven into the fabric of her life. When they spotted you and Julie approaching, their faces lit up with joy, eyes twinkling with friendliness and a touch of curiosity. Julie’s hand rested lightly on your arm, guiding you forward, as if anchoring you to this moment she had longed to share.

As you got closer, you could hear snippets of their playful banter; Haneul animatedly recounted a missed class, waving her hands in exaggerated gestures, while Belle teased her with a mock scolding. Natty, sprawled out on the couch, chimed in with an enthusiastic nod, her laughter bubbling up and pulling everyone else along with it. You felt yourself relax, letting your natural charm surface as you joined in the conversation, tossing in a few witty comments that sparked more laughter. The group responded easily, welcoming you as if you’d always been a part of their tight-knit circle.

Julie stepped back a bit, watching the scene unfold with a quiet sense of pride blossoming in her chest. For her, this was more than just an evening with friends—it was a bridge between her worlds, a blending of the people she cherished most. And as laughter and light-hearted teasing filled the room, she couldn’t help but feel that this gathering marked the beginning of something beautiful.

“I can’t believe it took you this long to bring your boyfriend over—he’s so fun to be around!” Haneul teased, a mischievous grin lighting up her face as she nudged Julie playfully with her elbow. Her words carried a lighthearted energy that filled the dimly lit room, sparking another round of laughter. Julie chuckled, brushing off the teasing with a casual wave of her hand, her cheeks faintly flushed. “Yeah, it was about time,” she replied, her voice warm with both pride and affection.

The evening continued to unfold like the pages of a captivating novel, each conversation flowing effortlessly, every laugh weaving the group closer together. You found yourself laughing deeply, the kind of genuine laughter that only emerges in moments of pure connection. It was clear you belonged here, that your presence added something vibrant to their bond.

Natty, relaxed in the comfort of the shared dorm, had chosen a loose shirt, unconcerned about needing a bra. The soft fabric draped casually over her, shifting with her movements, adding an effortless allure. Her confidence and natural grace were palpable, a quiet charisma that drew people in without her even trying.

But as the night wore on, Julie’s smile wavered just slightly as she watched you talking animatedly with Natty. Natty, with her easy charm and relaxed demeanor, was practically family to Julie—a friend who had stood by her through secrets, laughter, and tears. Julie rarely felt anything other than complete trust in her. Yet tonight, a flicker of jealousy stirred within her as she noticed your gaze linger just a fraction too long on Natty’s chest, where the loose shirt dipped slightly, hinting at more than she could ignore.

It was barely a moment—a fleeting look, subtle enough that anyone else might have missed it. But for Julie, it was enough to send an unsettling ripple through her composure. Her stomach tightened as the thought took root, her mind spinning despite her efforts to shake it off. It wasn’t as though you’d crossed any lines; you were simply being your warm, charismatic self, engaging and open as always. Yet, that fleeting glance tapped into insecurities she thought she had buried, doubts lingering like shadows even amid her trust in both you and Natty.

Julie took a steadying breath, trying to refocus as she observed the scene, almost as if from a distance. Within her, a delicate balance of pride and vulnerability settled—a quiet mix of loyalty and uncertainty that she held onto as the evening continued around her.

Forcing a neutral expression, she tried to suppress the unease that draped over her like a heavy cloak. The room buzzed with laughter and teasing, yet it was becoming harder for her to fully engage. Each time you threw your head back in laughter, your charm seemed to grow under the admiring gaze of her friends. A pang of doubt fluttered in her chest, a quiet ambivalence tugging at the edges of her mind.

Soon, the conversation shifted to relationships—a topic Belle was particularly excited to explore. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she leaned forward, her smile playful and a bit too eager. “So, what’s it like dating Julie unnie?” she asked, eyes twinkling. “Is she totally whipped for you?” The room erupted in laughter, and Julie felt warmth creeping up her cheeks—a comment that would normally roll off her back but now struck a tender nerve. Should she let it go? She clenched her jaw, forcing a tight smile.

Natty joined in, her usual boldness paired with an audacious smirk. “She's the leader of our group,” she said, glancing at you with a teasing glint, “but I bet you call all the shots at home. I can’t imagine her being in charge over you.”

You didn’t respond right away, and the group took your silence as confirmation, murmuring their agreement with amused grins. Haneul, ever the instigator, jumped in with laughter, egging on the playful ribbing. “Oh, for sure! Julie unnie, the one in control everywhere except with you,” she teased, nudging you with a wink.

The jests and laughter swirled around Julie like rising waves, each remark chipping away at her composure. She glanced anxiously at you, waiting—hoping—for you to step in and defend her, to assert the truth of your relationship and challenge their playful assumptions. But instead, you chuckled along with them, a casual shrug signaling that, to you, it was all just lighthearted banter. Seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity, and her stomach knotted tightly.

Your silence felt like a quiet betrayal. Why would you let them see her in such a simplistic, inaccurate way? How could you stand by, leaving the depth and nuances of your relationship blurred by their teasing?

A slow heat builds within Julie, anger bubbling beneath the surface, though she covers it with an artificial laugh, going along with the banter for the sake of appearances. Inwardly, her thoughts race, composing pointed retorts and fierce arguments she plans to unleash later. The laughter continues to fill the room, but joy feels painfully out of reach. She clutched the edge of your drink a bit tighter, hoping it’ll keep her grounded, but the jealousy from earlier and frustration continue to churn within, casting shadows that refuse to dissipate.

When the night finally winds down, and her friends’ laughter fades to soft goodbyes, Julie and you step out into the cool night air. The chill hits her like a sharp wave, bracing against her skin and momentarily clearing her head. But the fresh air does little to ease the simmering frustration that has been building inside her all evening.

The moment the door thuds shut behind her and you, cutting off the final echoes of laughter, the tension inside her snaps, unraveling the careful restraint she held all night. She turns to you, words tumbling out like a dam finally broken. “What the hell was that back there?” Her voice is low, sharp, and cold as it slices through the quiet of the night.

You blink, taken aback by the intensity in her tone. “What are you talking about?” you ask, confusion and concern mixing in your voice.

She crosses her arms, instinctively tightening them across her chest as if holding herself together against the flood of emotions threatening to spill. “You just sat there and let them say all that crap,” she spits, her voice trembling despite its force. “They were making me out to be a pushover, like I’m some kind of doormat at home. And you didn’t defend me—not once! Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”

Your eyes widen as realization sinks in, and guilt begins to weave through your thoughts. You open your mouth to respond, but she cuts you off before you can form the words. Taking a step closer, she looks up at you, her eyes glistening with restrained anger and hurt. “I expected you to set the record straight. To tell them that’s not who I am. But instead, you just… laughed along. Like it was all true.”

The accusation hangs heavy in the chilly air, each word settling deep. You feel the pang of guilt flicker across your face as you reach out, hesitating, searching for the right thing to say. But her gaze stops you, piercing and unwavering, a mix of anger and wounded pride. Beneath her anger, you see a raw sense of betrayal that gnaws at her, aching and exposed. This was supposed to be the night she introduced you to the people closest to her, the ones who saw her as strong and capable. Instead, she feels as though she’s been reduced to a shallow caricature, her relationship glossed over for the sake of a joke you let slide.

She draws a shaky breath, lowering her arms as she tries to steady herself, grounding the storm that churns inside her. “We’ll talk about this when we get home,” she says, her voice resolute and final, leaving no room for debate. She needs space to process the whirlwind of emotions before anything else can be said.

Your shoulders slump, and you nod silently, regret etching lines across your face. The two of you begin the walk back to your shared apartment in tense silence, each step echoing the growing chasm between you. The usual warmth and ease that bind you feel absent, replaced by a heavy, strained quiet that makes every footfall feel burdensome. The silence amplifies the divide, thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions, each step stretching the space further.

As you walk, she’s lost in thought, memories of the evening replaying in relentless loops. Every laugh, every teasing remark, and every moment you’d laughed along instead of defending her plays like an unending scene in a theater she can’t escape. Frustration simmers, coiling tightly in her stomach as she tries to understand how you could have missed how deeply it affected her, how your silence felt like a silent endorsement of their jokes.

-----

The familiar sight of your apartment, once a place that buzzed with shared laughter and the comfort of mutual understanding, now looms ahead, transformed into an arena of silent reckoning. Julie’s eyes, which once sparkled with shared secrets and inside jokes, now bore into you with a steely resolve that leaves no room for misinterpretation.

When she speaks, the word hangs in the air like a final verdict. “Strip.”

You find yourself obeying, not out of fear, but out of a deep-seated need to atone for your transgression.

As you undress, the gravity of the situation becomes increasingly palpable. Each article of clothing that hits the floor feels heavier than the last, a testament to your surrender and an acknowledgment of the power dynamics that have shifted so abruptly. The room, usually filled with warmth and comfort, seems to shrink around you, intensifying the awareness of your exposed state. The chair in the center, once ordinary, now holds an ominous presence, its unyielding surface a prelude to the control Julie is about to wield.

Sitting there, naked and vulnerable, your exposure transcends the physical; it becomes a baring of your very soul, a silent plea for forgiveness and understanding. The cool air of the apartment skates over your skin, raising goosebumps and sending shivers racing down your spine. Every sense feels heightened, tuned to the faintest sounds—the rustle of fabric, the soft creak of the floorboards, and the steady rhythm of her movement as she prepares. The anticipation stretches each second into an eternity, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

When Julie finally reemerges, the transformation is striking. Gone is the warm, light-hearted partner who shared laughter with you earlier in the night. In her place stands a figure of dominance, her presence commanding and confident. She is dressed in black, the fabric accentuating her form with precision, glinting subtly as she moves. In her hands are the tools of her trade: silken ropes that promise both comfort and captivity, a spreader bar that signals the extent of your impending restraint, and a gag that will soon silence your words.

Julie’s movements are deliberate, each step resonating through the quiet room. The click of her heels on the hardwood floor becomes a countdown to when your world will narrow to just her and the sensations she chooses to inflict. She pauses in front of you, her gaze sweeping over your form with a look that is both critical and approving. It’s not cruelty in her eyes but satisfaction—a shared acknowledgment of the trust underlying this exchange.

“Hands,” she commands, her voice low and unwavering. You comply immediately, bringing your wrists behind you as she steps closer. The scent of her perfume reaches you, teasing your senses. Her fingers are skilled, weaving the ropes with a practiced ease, the loops snug but not cutting. Each knot holds you firmly in place, ensuring your surrender is complete. The bindings serve as a tangible reminder of your submission, tightening with every subtle shift of your body.

Julie's eyes glinting with mischief as she picks up the gag. She holds it up for a moment, searching your gaze for that final glimmer of acceptance. She moves closer, fitting the gag around your head. The material presses into your lips, silencing any potential words. As the gag muffles your voice, turning your apologies and pleas into soft, incoherent murmurs that fill the room, Julie smiles in satisfaction.

The sensation is disorienting yet electrifying, deepening your vulnerability. With a playful smirk, she reaches for the spreader bar, attaching it firmly, stretching your legs and enhancing the sense of helplessness. You feel the weight of your submission settle in, the world around you narrowing to just her and the anticipation of what comes next.

She steps back to assess her work, the room momentarily filled with nothing but the sound of your breathing, now shallow and uneven. The silence stretches, amplifying the thrum of anticipation coursing through you. Her gaze lingers as she runs a finger down your arm, trailing goosebumps in its wake. The spreader bar still lies within reach, a promise waiting to be fulfilled.

“Do you know why you’re in this position?” she asks, her voice slicing through the quiet with a commanding edge. The question hangs in the air, charged with expectation.

You nod, the movement subtle but insistent. Your eyes meet hers, carrying an apology and submission that don’t need words. But the nod alone isn’t enough for her.

“Good,” she whispers, leaning down until her breath warms your skin. “Then you’re going to be a good boy and take everything I give you tonight. Understand?”

You nod again, more fervently this time, the gag pressing against your mouth as you do. Your heart thunders as her words echo in your mind, sending a pulse of anticipation through you that makes every nerve in your body come alive. Her lips curl into a smirk as she straightens, her eyes never leaving yours.

And with that, the teasing began.

Julie moves with a predator's grace, each step calculated and precise. She brushes against you, her body a whisper against your skin, as she circles the chair like a huntress toying with her prey. Every nerve heightens in suspense, registering each point of contact—her breasts grazing your arm, her hips swaying against your legs. The gag renders your mouth useless, but your eyes betray a silent, unspoken desire.

Her fingers skim lightly over your thighs and stomach, deliberately avoiding your most sensitive areas, savoring the way your body tenses under her touch. Fingernails scrape gently over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

"Already squirming," she teases, voice soft yet commanding. "I haven’t even started, and you’re falling apart."

A muffled groan escapes as your body instinctively yearns for more. She revels in your helpless state, bound and utterly under her control. Her fingers dance over your chest, tracing the contours of your muscles before finally grazing the tip of your hardened length. The touch is fleeting, barely enough to satisfy the ache building within, but just enough to keep you teetering on the edge.

"So needy already," she murmurs, dark amusement flickering in her eyes as she continues her tantalizing torment. "And I’ve barely touched you."

Julie’s mastery in the art of dominance is clear in the way she commands every inch of your submission, drawing out your reactions like a skilled musician coaxing a melody from each note. She knows the true power lies in denial, in the sweet agony of anticipation. Her hands explore further, tracing the lines of your torso, shifting between feather-light touches and firmer caresses.

The dynamic between you pulses with an electrifying tension, a charged dance of dominance and submission. Without warning, she climbs onto your lap, her thighs bracketing your hips as she straddles you. Her warmth presses against you, her slickness gliding over your length, coating you with her arousal and leaving a heated trail that only deepens the fire within you, threatening to consume you both in its intensity.

Her hips start a slow, deliberate grind, pressing her heat against you in a rhythm that’s both seductive and torturous, a constant teasing friction that only intensifies your need. Each controlled roll of her body against yours sends waves of pleasure rippling through you, spreading outward until every inch of your skin feels alive, hypersensitive to her slightest movement. She holds herself just out of reach, the wetness from her core brushing and slicking along your length, leaving you taut with need, your body practically vibrating with anticipation. Each soft gasp that escapes her lips as she moves only fuels the growing ache within you, driving you to instinctively buck your hips, craving to close the maddening distance, to press deeper into her warmth.

But the restraints binding you to the chair hold fast, forcing you to submit, a stark reminder of your willing captivity. Every strained movement, every pull against the bindings, only sharpens the ache, the urgency growing with each second she remains perched atop you, tantalizingly close but just out of reach.

She catches sight of the glistening evidence of your arousal at your tip, coated in her own slickness, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Leaking already," she murmurs, the tone a mixture of amusement and smug satisfaction. Her eyes gleam with wicked delight, drinking in every bit of evidence of your desire. "So desperate for me… and I haven’t even let you inside. Pathetic."

Her words cut through the fog of arousal, a sharp contrast to the gentleness of her fingers as they begin to wander, tracing languid lines across your chest. Her fingertips drift over your skin with a possessive tenderness, mapping each contour and ridge with expert care. Her nails skim along your muscles, trailing down over the firm lines of your torso and sending jolts of heat to every nerve, her touch both thrilling and maddeningly slow.

She leans in, her breath warm against your neck as she murmurs softly, her voice carrying a tone of command that feels both soft and absolute. Every inch of you responds to her, every nerve straining toward her touch as she masterfully pushes and pulls you between desire and restraint, leading you through a symphony of sensation, teasing you closer and closer to the edge without allowing release.

Your breaths come shallow and ragged, each exhale a silent plea for mercy as your gaze meets hers, desperation clear in your eyes. But there’s a glint of mischief in her expression as she holds you there, a silent acknowledgment that she’s in complete control. She has you—body and mind, bound and utterly at her mercy, while she conducts each sensation with calculated precision.

In one swift, unexpected move, she rises from your lap, leaving you throbbing, trembling with unfulfilled longing. The sudden absence of her warmth is jarring, a shock that leaves you gasping as your body craves her all the more. Helpless, you watch as she steps back, just out of reach, her gaze sweeping over you with a look of calm satisfaction, savoring the power she holds. She’s a goddess in her own right, basking in the way you devour her with your eyes, the silent worship etched across every fiber of your being.

With a fluid gesture, Julie blindfolds you, plunging you into darkness where every other sense sharpens. "You don’t get to beg with your eyes anymore," she murmurs, her lips brushing the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "You’ll just have to feel." Deprived of sight, every whisper of her movement against your skin intensifies, turning each caress into a new form of exquisite torture.

She kneels down and her hand wraps firmly around your shaft, motionless yet charged with intent. You can feel the beat of your own pulse against her palm, each rhythmic throb amplifying the ache within you. She holds you just like that, unhurried, letting the tension build until every second feels like an eternity.

Then, almost imperceptibly, her arm began to move. Each stroke is a maddening tease—soft, deliberate, and just enough to make your muscles clench with anticipation, but never enough to bring you the release you crave. She slides her hand upward, a slow and torturous ascent that ignites every nerve along the way, until she stops just below the tip. Her grip tightens just a little, holding you there, keeping you on edge, her control turning your desire into a relentless pulse.

After a breathless pause, she reverses course, moving just as slowly down to the base and stopping again. The deliberate rhythm—up, pause, down, pause—leaves you trembling, body taut and shivering under the command of her touch. Each hold, each slight squeeze, feels like both a promise and a denial, the tension building with every passing second. It’s a masterful, torturous dance, and you’re ensnared in her control, helpless yet entranced by her command over your senses.

Her lips part in a sly smile "Look at you," she murmurs, her voice low and honeyed. "So hard, so ready and I decide when you’re satisfied." Her words are a silken reminder of her power, and the restraint she demands makes the desire inside you swell even further, twisting with both longing and surrender.

Just when the suspense is unbearable, she leans closer, her breath grazing your length, warm and tantalizing. The soft, steady rhythm of her exhale sends ripples of heat through you, and the contrast between her closeness and the aching need intensifies the tension coiling within. Her breath lingers, teasing, as if savoring every second of the anticipation.

Then, her lips brush lightly against the tip, a feather-soft kiss that makes your entire body jolt in response. In that instant, a drop of anticipation escapes, and she notices, her gaze fixated on each pulse of your member. She dips her head, the tip of her tongue darting out just enough to scoop the small drop, her touch maddeningly gentle.

Her tongue traces the tiniest, deliberate flick across the sensitive skin, collecting the bead with exquisite care. Each soft, restrained stroke of her tongue stokes the fire within, leaving you teetering on the edge of release yet held back, her control absolute. Each touch is measured, perfectly calculated to keep you suspended between need and surrender, an unrelenting tease that keeps you helplessly ensnared.

Your muscles strain against the bonds that hold you, your body surrendering to the exquisite torment she inflicts. The pride that once stiffened your spine melts under her touch, leaving you utterly exposed and vulnerable. In this game of pleasure and restraint, Julie is the undisputed master.

"What a pathetic mess," she taunts, amusement lacing her voice as she revels in her dominion over your body. "You tower me and yet I can make you crumble with just a touch." Her words cut both as a rebuke and a compliment, a testament to her irresistible allure.

With each slow stroke along your shaft and each flick of her tongue over the sensitive tip, she brings you to the very edge of release, only to pull back, leaving you teetering on the brink of bliss. Your body arches, straining against the restraints, desperate for the ultimate surrender that only she can offer.

Then, without warning, she stops.

Julie stands back, posture exuding a blend of amusement and authority, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips as she watches your frustrated contortions. Her eyes glint with mischief, sparkling like sunlight on an unruly sea, as she takes in the sight of you squirming under the weight of your desire. The tension thickens, a palpable pulse wrapping around you both, amplifying every flicker of energy flowing between you.

“You want to cum so badly, don’t you?” she taunts, her voice dropping to a low, sultry purr that resonates in the core of your being, each syllable dripping with seduction. The words hang in the air, tantalizing and laced with playful command, pulling you even deeper into her orbit. She leans closer, her warm breath brushing against your skin, strengthening the connection that crackles between you.

“Beg for it,” she continues, her tone turning sharper, though still steeped in teasing allure. “Apologize for what you did to me earlier.” Her eyes narrow, challenging you to surrender, to embrace the vulnerability simmering just beneath the surface. The power dynamic dances between you, electric and heady, anticipation swirling like a cyclone that leaves you breathless, utterly captivated by her control.

Your response is a garbled attempt at speech, the gag reducing your words to incomprehensible murmurs. Yet the desperation is unmistakable, a raw testament to the intensity of your need.

Julie chuckles softly, her breath hot and laced with playful mischief as she leans in, her lips hovering near your ear. The warmth radiating from her skin sends a shiver down your spine, heightening the tension simmering between you.

“I can’t understand you,” she teases, voice low and sultry, each word leaving a trail of excitement in the still air. Her playful tone cuts through the intensity, a lightness that only sharpens the edge of the moment. A mischievous grin dances across her lips, a blend of challenge and allure that sets your heart racing.

“You’ll have to try harder than that,” she purrs, her eyes bright with mischief. The space between you crackles with unspoken desire as you struggle to respond, caught in the spell she weaves. Julie’s confidence and sass infuse the moment with an infectious thrill, holding you captive in a deliciously precarious game of cat and mouse.

With renewed urgency, you try again to plead, your muffled cries growing more frantic. But Julie’s smirk remains, her head shaking in silent refusal as she drinks in your pleas, delight flickering in her gaze.

The seconds stretch, each one a small eternity that settles heavily on your consciousness. The yearning inside intensifies, a silent plea for release that feels like a prayer. Each minute seems to stretch further, blending into a timeless void filled only with the sound of your ragged breaths and the pounding of your heart.

Julie watches with an intensity that’s both unsettling and thrilling, her gaze tracking every twitch, every involuntary shudder that runs through you. She seems to derive a certain pleasure from this power, this control she holds over you.

Then, as if guided by an impulsive whim or sensing a subtle shift within you, her demeanor changes. Her fingers, which have been teasing around your length, suddenly tighten around your shaft. The warmth of her palm contrasts sharply with the cool air, the pressure sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

In an instant her hand begins to move in deliberate, fast strokes. Each motion is a symphony of sensation, a calculated descent into the depths of pleasure. Your muscles coil like a spring, tension mounting with every pass of her hand.

The room fills with the sound of your muffled moans, the gag doing little to stifle the raw, animalistic noises escaping your throat. Parched from panting, forming words becomes impossible, but your body speaks for you, each tremor a language of pure need. Your back arches, every fiber straining against the crescendo of sensation threatening to overwhelm.

Then, with a suddenness that’s both startling and inevitable, the wave of release crashes over you. After the relentless teasing and countless moments held just on the brink, the sensation is nothing short of explosive. It’s as though every nerve in your body has been ignited, the intense buildup finally finding its release in a torrent that consumes you completely. The climax is powerful and shuddering, each pulse deeper and more overwhelming than the last, streaking across your stomach and chest as Julie angles you just so, letting every drop land exactly where she intended.

The sensation is almost blinding, leaving you trembling in its wake. The sheer force of release leaves your muscles shuddering, as if they’re catching up to the relief they’ve been denied for so long. Your breaths come in sharp gasps, each one echoing the intensity of everything you’ve been holding back. Every ounce of tension unwinds, cascading through your limbs until you feel weightless, utterly spent.

As the aftershocks ripple through you, your head was buzzing, the world narrowed to the warmth and satisfaction coursing through your body. Julie’s hand slows, her touch soft and almost reverent as she loosens her grip, fingers tracing gentle circles along your skin. Her gaze lingers over the evidence of her careful work, a quiet triumph in her eyes as she takes in the effect she’s had on you, savoring each tremor and shallow breath.

You thought you were done, that the punishment had finally matched the crime, but you couldn't have been more wrong. The game is far from over.

The air hangs heavy with the scent of leather and the unmistakable musk of arousal, filling the space between you. Julie’s fingers work with expert precision as she reaches for the buckle behind your head, the slick click of metal releasing the ball gag from your mouth breaking the tense silence. As the gag falls away, you gasp for air, your chest heaving with a sharp, grateful intake, savoring the rush of cool air against your parched throat—a fleeting relief from the intensity she’s kept you under.

But she allows you no time to settle. Her fingers glide up to the blindfold, and with a quick tug, she pulls it away, letting light spill into your vision. Your eyes squint and blink, adjusting to the sudden brightness after so long in darkness, the details of the room coming back into focus in a dazed, almost surreal clarity. Julie’s face comes into view, her gaze heavy with satisfaction, her expression carrying the weight of everything she’s just put you through.

In one fluid motion, she gathers the overwhelming evidence of your surrender—your release, slick, warm and copious in her hand, holding it up between you, letting the light catch it as if it were some prized possession. Her eyes, dark and filled with a knowing glint, meet yours, and the look she gives you is laced with pride, satisfaction, and a sense of complete ownership that sends another shiver down your spine.

Her expression speaks volumes, a blend of triumph and control, as if marking this moment as her own creation. The silence stretches, laden with all the unspoken promises she’s fulfilled, and the intensity of her gaze makes it clear that she isn’t done with you yet.

“Open,” she commands, her voice a silky rasp that brooks no disobedience. Your lips part instinctively, the submissive reflex inside you responding to her dominance. Slowly, deliberately, she tips her hand, letting the viscous fluid slide over your tongue. The taste is salty, bitter—a potent reminder of your surrender.

"Keep it there until I say otherwise," she instructs, her tone leaving no room for misunderstanding. You nod slightly, eyes wide, a blend of fear, excitement, and adoration clouding your gaze. A soft whine escapes you, a sound that speaks volumes about your submission.

Her hand resumes its relentless rhythm on your sensitive member, merciless in its pace, drawing you back to the peak of pleasure despite the sharp, overstimulated ache that borders on pain. Each jolt that courses through your body makes you feel your vulnerability tenfold. The strength you once prided yourself on is gone, leaving you trembling, utterly at her mercy.

“Keep squirming” she purrs, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she revels in the sight of you reduced to this state. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Your body twitches under her touch, control completely relinquished to her hands. The overstimulation is overwhelming, but stopping is a luxury she’s denied you, and you’re left trapped in an intoxicating blend of ecstasy and agony that only she can navigate.

Julie’s eyes, darkened with unrestrained desire, stay locked onto yours as her slick hand works you closer and closer. But there’s no comfort in her gaze, only dominance and satisfaction as she sees you fall apart under her touch. She leans in, a mocking smile on her lips. “Look at you—just a mess. Can’t even handle a little girl like me.”

The pressure builds unbearably, each second a dizzying rush that overwhelms you. Your face twists in desperation, begging silently for her mercy as her pace continues. Just when you think you can’t bear it anymore, your control shatters, a raw moan escapes you as a couple drops of liquid spills from your lips onto your chest as your release is forced from you again.

But Julie only smirks, her hand still working with an unrelenting rhythm, refusing to give you even a moment’s reprieve. She watches, amused, as you whimper and struggle beneath her, her mocking voice low and taunting. “I didn’t say you could stop.”

Your eyes widen, pleading, but she doesn’t relent. The sensitivity has your body spasming under her touch, every nerve frayed as she pushes you toward a second release, knowing it will push you past all limits. You can only submit, powerless as she drives you quickly over the edge again.

With a broken moan that quickly crescendos into a loud, uncontrollable cry, your body surrenders, releasing one last time in a shuddering wave. The climax is so overwhelming that your muscles, usually clenching tight in moments like this, go limp under her dominance. The sensation crashes over you, leaving your mind blank and your body helplessly convulsing.

As the intensity peaks, your previous release spills from your mouth, dripping down to your chest and mingling with the sweat beading your skin. The warm, slick mess spreads across your torso, the sensation amplifying the vulnerability coursing through you. Every fiber of your being is overtaken, leaving you quivering and trembling as she finally eases her grip. You collapse, utterly spent and broken before her, breaths coming in ragged gasps as the overstimulation echoes through your limbs.

Julie’s eyes never leave yours as she leans in, claiming your mouth in a fierce, possessive kiss that leaves you gasping. She pulls back with a sharp smirk, then spits harshly onto your chest, the suddenness of it making you shudder as the warmth mixes with the already smeared fluids. The act stings with raw dominance, each drop marking her claim. Slowly, she drags her fingers through the blend, smearing it purposefully across your skin. Each stroke is deliberate, a cool reminder of her power as her touch lingers over your heaving chest, spreading the warmth until it clings to every inch of you.

“There,” she murmurs with a smirk, voice a perfect blend of pride and satisfaction. “Now you’ll remember exactly who owns you.”

Julie rises slowly, her fingers gliding down your chest, pausing to press lightly where your heartbeat betrays your surrender. She steps back, her eyes sweeping over you—bound to the chair, hands secured tightly behind your back, legs spread wide by the bar at your ankles. Every inch of you is exposed, vulnerable, and yet there’s no desire to resist. The calmness settles deeper, the certainty of yielding to her undeniable.

A small, satisfied smile plays at the corner of her lips as she studies you, taking in the way the ropes hold you exactly where she wants. Her gaze fixes on you with a confidence that’s unbreakable. “This,” she says, her tone soft yet edged with command, “is exactly where you belong. Tied up, under my control, waiting for my command. You don’t get to call the shots here—that’s my role.” Her words settle over you, embedding themselves like an invisible mark, a seal on the surrender you feel.

She steps behind you, her hands resting firmly on your shoulders, anchoring you in her presence. She begins to knead away the last traces of tension, her fingers firm yet gentle, drawing you deeper into her influence. A shiver races down your spine as she leans close, her breath warm against your ear.

“Think about tonight,” she murmurs, her voice both soft and unshakable, as though each word is settling into you. “Think about how easily you yield, how completely you become mine, just as you are right now. Because this”—her nails trail lightly down your back, drawing a sharp breath from you—“is how things will be. In this house, and anywhere else we go.”

Her hands slide back to your wrists, her fingers deftly working to untie the ropes that have held you so tightly. She moves with care, releasing each bond one by one, each motion a reminder of her control. Even as the ropes fall away, the feeling of being held by her command remains. She moves to your front, kneeling to remove the spreader bar from your ankles, her fingers brushing your skin lightly, each touch a reminder that it’s her choice to free you, her decision.

Once free, you feel the urge to stretch, but her gaze roots you to the spot, grounding you in her authority. Her eyes stay fixed on you, unwavering, and without a word, the weight of her expectation presses down. It’s instinctive—you feel yourself slowly sinking down, lowering to your knees before her, your hands coming to rest at your sides.

Julie steps closer, her fingers reaching for your chin. She tilts your head up, bringing your eyes to meet hers, and the weight of her command settles even deeper within you.

“This,” she says, her thumb brushing softly over your jawline, “is exactly where you belong—at my feet, waiting for my word. I want you to see who’s in control, who makes the choices. And every time you look at me like this, you’ll remember that every action, every decision, is mine.” Her fingers tighten just slightly, her gaze holding yours with a depth that leaves no room for doubt.

You nod subtly, the acceptance in your gaze mirroring her certainty. Her hold on your chin remains, her fingers pressing a little firmer, reinforcing the truth she’s just spoken. “I don’t want you to just obey. I want you to feel it, to know that every inch of you is mine to command. You stay when I say stay. You move when I allow it. Understand?”

The air is thick with her authority, her words pressing into you, reinforcing her control in every possible way. You nod then finally, she releases your chin.

She smiles, her satisfaction evident. “Good,” she murmurs, watching you closely. “Get up and go clean yourself. Then meet me in bed. We're going to discuss your behavior at the dorm.”

You rise slowly, each movement a reminder of the boundaries she’s drawn. As you turn toward the bathroom, you feel her gaze lingering, following you like a weight that holds you in place even as you walk away. And when the door clicks shut behind you, the image of her small, knowing smile remains etched in your mind—a reminder of the perfect place she’s found for you, right where she intended.

[hawnks]

Takami Keigo doesn't want to see you.

Of course, he's too well trained to say it in so many words, but when he 'forgets' his session this afternoon, you get the message.

Unfortunately for him, you're stubborn. You show up at his apartment in the dormitories, ring his bell until your fingers numb.

Only then does he crack open the door, just enough for you to catch his forbidding smile, a caustic gleam to his eyes. "What can I help you with, this fine evening?"

"You missed our appointment," you say pleasantly. "This is the third time."

"Oh, must have just slipped my mind," he says with a dismissive little wave. "I'll catch you next time."

The door slams in your face.

Being so curtly dismissed by a top ranking officer should probably send you into a panic, but the stats you pulled up for him after his no-show are even more concerning. This is quickly turning into an emergency, and unfortunately it's your job on the line if he succumbs to corruption.

Who would blame the second most powerful Sentinel alive, when there's a feckless guide as a scapegoat.

"I'm going to ring the bell again," you say, loudly.

After a moment of silence, you think he must not have heard you.

Then the door swings open. "Fine," he snaps.

You follow him to the living room, watch as he drops himself on the couch with a sigh, eyes squeezed shut.

You'd never known guiding to be this much of a chore for Sentinels. Most of your roster is rather clingy and covetous of your time. None of them has ever been late to an appointment with you.

"Well?" he prods. "Get on with it."

You hesitate. The tension he seems to be holding will make this a lot more difficult, strenuous for you both. "Do you maybe want to talk for a bit? Or I could put on some white noise."

He opens his eyes just enough to give you a cutting look. "No."

You surrender with a sigh, coming to sit next to him on the couch. Every Sentinel prefers contact a different way; some want you to hug them, pet their hair, a few have even asked you to kiss them, fuck them, though you've never fulfilled that type of request, your boundaries in this job too firm for it.

You want to ask him what would make this easier for him, but you're sure waiting any longer will only set him off. So, delicately, you take his hand.

The first draw is always the hardest, the corrupt energy being nullified by your own. Some outside force reaching in, invasive despite the relief.

Takami flinches.

You go slower, a soft steady ebb, pulling the poison from him in silken thread.

His hand relaxes in yours.

You reach deeper, welcoming the full flood between you, warmth and light suffusing you both. And it feels how it's supposed to -- natural.

When your watch chimes, signaling the sessions end, Takami blinks out of his stupor. He'd melted during the thirty minutes you worked on him, body curled toward yours, face falling onto your shoulder.

He pulls away swiftly, shocked by his own willingness to lean on you.

You rise, marking off the details of your appointment on your tablet. "I can come back tomorrow, to finish up. You haven't been guided in a long time, so I couldn't get it all in one session. Does 2pm work for you?"

He's not prepared for the question. "Um. Yeah?"

You mark that down as well, then see yourself out.

It takes three more sessions for you to fully clear the corrupted energy from his body. In his haze he admits to you the reason he's so standoffish to Guides, why he dodges his sessions with such fervor.

"It's never felt good. Always felt like I'm being held down, trapped. Made me feel antsy, nervous." He buries his face against your throat, inhaling deeply. You'd started off just holding his hand again, but now he hugs your entire arm against his chest, your fingers twined. "It's not like that with you."

"I'm glad, Mr. Takami," you return. "Please don't ignore my emails from now on."

As you make your notes, you ask him his availability for next month.

He blinks at you. "You're not coming back tomorrow?"

You check your calendar. You'd had to push back several of your regular appointments to make room for the past few days. "I'm booked solid for the next two weeks, at least."

You glance at him, taking in his appearance, his general well being. You reach a hand out to cup his cheek, urging him to meet your eyes. He startles, first, before leaning into your touch.

"You seem fine," you decide, pulling away, already heading for the door. "I'll contact you later about our next session."

He trails after you, linger at the precipice as you take the elevator back down to your floor.

...

He never ignores you emails, after that.

In fact, he sends many of his own. He gets your phone number, somehow. Some days he shows up with coffee, or snacks, sits with you on the couch while you eat.

He's always touching you during those times, brushing hair behind your ears or straightening your shirt collar. Mostly he just holds your hand, playing with your fingers or clutching it in his own lap.

You don't guide him during any of these impromptu visits, too weary from the rest of your overfull schedule -- but you've heard of this type of attachment from other Guides.

Sentinels tend to imprint on guides they have a decent connection with. Part survival instinct, part status seeking. A Sentinel without a guide is doomed. A Sentinel with a high match-rate is likely to be stronger than their peers.

But that's the thing about un-bonded Sentinels, they're always on the lookout for a better Guide, their perfect mate.

Takami is overly attached to you now, but it will pass.

...

Or so you thought.

You're sent out into the aftermath of a battle that rocks the city. Dozens of Sentinels pushed themselves to the breaking point, on the brink of corruption, about to turn into the very monsters they fight to suppress.

You spot Takami in the midst of the wreckage. Exhausted, but giving you a shakey smile when your eyes meet. He limps toward you, so glad to see you, so ready for the safety and warmth of your arms--

Someone calls your name. Urgent, an emergency. Another Sentinel with no one to take care of them.

You turn away from Takami, and you go.

He'd fought hard, but his body has grown used to the abuse over the years. He's in bad shape, but it's not life-threatening like some of the others you help today.

It's hours before you can see him.

Slumped on a curb, hands folded neatly in his lap. Like he's been waiting so patiently for you this whole time.

You come to your knees before him, letting him take your hands, draw you closer. "Why didn't you go to another Guide?"

Surely he could have found someone else, despite the chaos of the scene. If not you, one of the high ranking Guides, slotted exclusively for S-rank Sentinels.

He looks at you, trembling, confused. "I don't want another Guide."

When he asks if you'll hold him, you do. You take him in your arms, let his weight settle on you. Feel his warmth all around you, his breath against your shoulder.

"And I don't want you to guide anyone else," he murmurs.

You stroke his nape. "I know. I'm sorry. You'll find your Guide soon enough, and then you can have each other all to yourselves."

His grip tightens. He braces you against him -- instead of a heady tightness, you're constricted.

"I already found my Guide," he whispers into your throat.

Then he bites.

[lev1hei1chou]

Sleeping Beauty

Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Words: 384 Synopsis: You fall asleep on Gojo Masterlist

You and Satoru Gojo had been dating for quite some time now, facing curses and missions together. Despite the chaos that often surrounded your lives, there were moments of peace that made everything worthwhile. Tonight was one of those rare calm evenings.

After a long day of exorcising curses, the two of you found yourselves back at the Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical High School dormitory. The soft glow of the moon illuminated the room as you and Gojo settled onto the couch, exhaustion finally catching up to you.

In the midst of casual conversation, fatigue took its toll, and your eyes began to droop. Sensing your weariness, Gojo chuckled softly, a grin never leaving his face.

"Well, well, looks like someone's ready for a good nap," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You shot him a tired glare, your lips curving into a half-smile. "Shut up, Gojo. It's been a long day."

But Gojo wasn't one to pass up an opportunity to tease. As you rested against him, your head finding a comfortable spot on his shoulder, he couldn't help but comment, "You know, you're surprisingly light when you're asleep. Almost like a baby bird."

You groaned, both amused and annoyed. "Can't you be serious for once?"

Gojo's laughter rumbled through his chest as he wrapped his arm around you protectively. "Who said I can't be serious? I'm just making observations. Besides, it's kinda cute."

Rolling your eyes, you mumbled something unintelligible, drifting further into the realms of sleep. Gojo continued to hold you close, his teasing demeanor softened by a rare tenderness. The room fell silent, the only sound being the rhythmic breathing of two exhausted souls.

Time passed, and eventually, you stirred awake. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you found Gojo watching you with an affectionate glint in his eyes.

"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty," he said, his tone still laced with humor.

You yawned and stretched, realizing the position you were in. "Guess I dozed off, huh?"

"Just a little," Gojo replied, a smirk playing on his lips. "But you were adorable, so I'll let it slide this time."

You shot him a playful glare, swatting his arm. "You're insufferable, you know that?"

"But you love me for it," he retorted, pulling you into a tight hug.

[harunayuuka2060]

Lucas: YOU DID WHAT?!!!

MC: You're making my ears bleed, Sir Lucas. *chuckles*

Lucas: *the sound of him facepalming*

Lucas: Listen here, Your Majesty. Yes, you're incognito. But please, for the love of Arendelle,

Lucas: DON'T JUST ACCEPT STRANGERS IN THE PLACE YOU'RE STAYING AT!

MC: *chuckles*

Lucas: *sigh* You're not listening to me. Of course, why would you? You're the reigning monarch.

MC: Please don't say that. Your insights have always been helpful.

Lucas: Hmph.

MC: Turning to another matter, I would be interested to learn more about my little brother—ah, my apologies, I mean the prince regent.

Lucas: He's been managing the state affairs seriously, Your Majesty.

MC: Ah, I see. That explains why he hasn't had a moment to return my call.

Lucas: No, that's not the reason at all. He misses you so much, yet he doesn't want to hear your voice because it will only make him miss you more.

Lucas: *sighs* I feel bad for His Royal Highness for having an older sibling who won't stay at home.

MC: *chuckles* My apologies.

Riddle: ...

Trey and Cater: ...

Riddle: I've received word from the headmage that half of our students wish to change dormitories.

Cater: Wow... That many?

Riddle: It seems they felt compelled to comply with the Queen of Hearts' rules. HOW INEPT OF THEM!

Trey: *is not really surprised*

Cater: So, what are you going to do now, Riddle-kun?

Riddle: ...

Riddle: I have no comment on this matter. If they wish to depart, they are free to do so. However, they should not expect me to welcome them back once they realize the missed opportunity.

Trey and Cater: ...

Riddle: *is on his way to class when he hears the students passing by*

Student A: We should ask the headmage to designate Ramshackle Dorm as an official residence, thereby appointing MC-senpai as a dorm leader.

Student B: Do you think he'll agree?

Student A: He doesn't really have a choice. Half of the Heartslabyul students have nowhere to go, and it would be difficult for us to adapt if we're to be accepted by other dorms.

Student B: Guess you're right.

Riddle: ...

Trey: The headmage denied the students' request to formalize Ramshackle Dorm as an official residence.

Riddle: Huh? Why? What's the reason?

Trey: He said that MC proposed an alternate solution.

Trey: Which is to send the students back to Heartslabyul.

Riddle: HUH?!!

Trey: They believed it was merely a misunderstanding and that things could still be resolved. They even mentioned their willingness to engage in a conversation with you to uncover the cause.

Riddle: ARE THEY IMPLYING THAT I'M THE PROBLEM?!

Trey: I don't think that's that...

Trey: They've already talked to our students and they just want to hear your side.

Riddle: ...

Riddle: Very well. I will send them a formal invitation to Heartslabyul.

Trey: ...

Trey: Just a fair warning. Riddle can be hot-headed sometimes.

Trey: Are you sure you really want to talk to him?

MC: Yes. He seems to be a diligent and competitive leader.

MC: I will enjoy talking to him. *smiles*

Trey: ...

Trey: *sigh* Well, I warned you.

[appocalipse]

RIGHT WHERE I WANT TO BE : ̗̀➛ SIRIUS BLACK

summary: it's only when lily accidentally spills amortentia on you and all you can smell is cigarettes and dog fur that you realize you're in love with sirius — probably the only person in the world you shouldn't be in love with.

"Oh, crap!" Lily seems on the verge of panic as she stares at the fresh stain on your clothes. "I'm so sorry!"

Somewhat shocked, you reach your hand to the front of your uniform and try to rub it away. It's no use. "It's okay," you assure her gently, relieved that the liquid didn't spill on the clean set of clothes you were folding instead, "it was an accident."

You put the clothes safely away in the trunk near your bed. They still have the fresh and clean scent of lavender. Your uniform, however…

Lily points her wand at your chest, and the stain quickly disappears. She had rushed through the entrance of the dormitory fast as lightning, crashing right into you and spilling…

Well, what exactly?

"Lily," you bring a hand to your own face, sniffing, then sniffing again. "What is this? It smells like a wet dog and-"

Your eyes meet and you immediately dislike the look on her face. Too much restrained excitement slowly bubbling up...

"-cigarettes…" you trail off, some sort of realization dawning on you way too late.

It can't be.

Lily bites her lower lip as if trying to hold back a smile. "Is that what it smells like to you?"

You also catch the scent of quill ink and freshly brewed coffee, so it can only be…

You put your hand away from your nose as if it's on fire.

"Tell me this is not what I think this is."

"If you're not thinking of Amortentia, then yes."

"Why would you brew Amortentia?!"

"For Professor Slughorn," she sees the confusion etched on your face and looks positively horrified. "Not for Professor Slughorn to drink! Ew! I said I'd like to try brewing one because it's, you know, a bit complicated and I've never tried before. He said he'd give Gryffindor some points if I succeeded. I didn't know you would… you know, smell Sirius."

"I never said I smelled him!"

"Okay! Okay," Lily raises both hands in surrender. Then, quieter, she adds, "You can pretend all you want."

You sigh. "Did you only have this vial?"

"Well, there should be some potion left in the cauldron, I think."

Great. An opportunity to escape this beyond strange situation. "I'll go get it for you."

"But I-"

You're out the Gryffindor common room before Lily has a chance to question your offer. The need to get away from that impending conversation is stronger than anything else right now.

Your heart is racing as you walk through the corridors of the castle, heading towards the dungeons, where Potions class usually take place. Each step is an effort to calm your turbulent mind and find some peace.

Upon reaching the Potions classroom, you welcome the silent space as you enter. The characteristic smell of magical ingredients and herbs fills your nostrils, bringing a familiar and almost comforting sensation… until you catch that smell. Amortentia.

You look around, searching for Lily's cauldron, which she mentioned leaving behind.

It's not hard to find; the smell is quite distinct, enchanting, all the things you love most in the world somehow united in a single aroma.

The cauldron is sitting on one of the workbenches. You approach cautiously, making sure not to knock anything over. Then you rummage through the shelves for an empty vial and pour some of the potion into it, feeling like you're doing something wrong even though Lily had Slughorn's permission.

The door opens, and you almost drop a row of glass bottles as you turn to look.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

It's Sirius. Of course, it's him.

He closes the door behind him, and your heart skips a beat as it usually does whenever he's around. He's wearing the Gryffindor uniform, the first two buttons undone, revealing a patch of delicate skin just below his neck.

You don't need to wonder how he got there or why. Chances are, he extracted every piece of information he needed from Lily with little to no effort.

"What are you doing?" he asks calmly. You, on the other hand, don't feel calm at all.

"Nothing, just..."

"Just?" He takes a step closer, and you instinctively move away from the workbench, trying not to show the nervousness you truly feel.

"I just came to get something," you say.

Sirius gives a suspicious glance at the cauldron. "Is it a love potion?" He's a skilled wizard. Skilled enough to know the answer to that question, yet he waits for you to respond.

"Lily made it," you say defensively, holding up the vial containing the potion to illustrate your point unnecessarily.

"And what scent do you smell?" he questions, with a genuine curiosity in his tone that catches you off guard. "What does the potion smell like to you?"

"Lily told you," it's far from a question.

But Sirius has a knack for playing games.

"She told me what?"

"You know what."

This time, you step back as he advances, unable to help yourself, swallowing hard and Sirius notices. He takes another step forward, and you take another step back.

"Sirius," you warn.

In return, Sirius says your name, his tone lighter, more playful, soft as a feather. Then, another step.

You nearly bump your hip against one of the workbenches as you take another desperate step back. Sirius, being Sirius, raises an eyebrow, making no effort to hide his amusement.

It's unfair. It's simply unfair that he's so good-looking, starting at you without feeling the need to averting his gaze. "You don't have to do this," you find yourself saying.

Sirius seems genuinely puzzled.

"Do what?"

You steal a glance in your peripheral vision. The room won't go on forever; you need to say something to get out of this situation before he gets too close. You don't trust yourself near Sirius.

"Turn me down. Be all nice-" you stutter. He keeps advancing toward you. Back almost against the wall, you dodge another workbench and turn to the left, trying to prevent him from cornering you.

Sirius chuckles. "Is that what you think?"

"I'm a big girl. I can take rejection."

He glances in the direction of the cauldron. "Do you want to know what scent I smell?"

"No."

"Leather-"

"Sirius-"

"Gasoline," he raises his chin, nose in the air as if enjoying one scent after another. "Apple pie."

For a moment, you close your eyes. "Stop it."

"And lavender."

Your heart is pounding in your chest. He's not being serious, a little voice in your mind insists. It can't be serious. He's just teasing you... or maybe just being a good friend. Too good a friend.

It would be easier if he wasn't. If he were less kind to you, less handsome, less charming.

It's not easy.

You're breathless, trying to keep your distance from Sirius as he sets a slow advance, a constant tease. It's an internal battle between the desire to give in to the attraction you feel for him and the need to protect yourself — but the latter wins, for now.

"Sirius," you plead, your voice quiet, "stop"

He pauses for a moment, his gray eyes fixed on yours. "You think I'm joking, don't you? You think I'm just being nice?"

"I... I don't know, Sirius. It's so...confusing."

He takes yet another step towards you, his lips curling into a challenging smile. Always challenging. "Confusing or scary?"

The tension between you two is palpable, and you wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of your heart, threatening to break out of your rib cage any given moment. You know you're fighting your own feelings, afraid of surrendering to something that may - and probably will - end in heartbreak.

"It's not fair," you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady. "It's not fair that you're so... so-"

"So what?" he teases, closer. "So handsome? So charming? So... irresistible?"

You can tell he's somehow having fun. You don't understand how he can maintain a playful tone in a moment like this.

You catch a whiff of his cologne, feel the warmth of his body, and your heart races once again. If there's a way to prevent Sirius from getting what he wants, you don't know what it is. "So confusing," you finish, almost in a whisper. "You confuse the hell out of me."

Sirius pauses for a moment, his eyes locked with yours, and you momentarily catch a flicker of something deeper in this playful gaze. He slowly raises a hand and gently, gentler than ever, caresses your face, his fingers tracing a delicate path along your skin.

"I don't see how I could be confusing you," he murmurs, his voice soft and husky. "I thought I was being pretty clear..." It's teasing, of course it is; when it comes to Sirius, few things aren't.

But there's something else behind it, too.

The air grows heavier.

"You're not clear about anything, Sirius," you reply, your voice faltering slightly. "I never know what you're thinking. I never know what you really mean."

"Maybe you're just not paying attention."

You furrow your brow, confused by Sirius' response. He's playing with you, as he always does, but this time it feels more intense, more meaningful. You struggle against the temptation to give in completely, to say something you might not be able to take back.

"I do pay attention, Sirius," you respond, your voice showing determination you're not entirely sure you feel. "It's you who likes to make everything more difficult than it needs to be."

He moves closer once again, so close now that you can feel his breath against your skin, the tip of his nose an inch away from touching yours.

"Do you want me to be clearer?" he whispers, voice laced with a hint of his usual mischief. "Make it easier?"

You swallow, feeling your heart race. You know you can't admit your feelings for him, you can't let your defenses down. Not when he makes a point to hide comfortably behind a facade, away from anything that makes him feel vulnerable.

You need honesty.

"Yes," you whisper, your voice almost faltering. "Yes, I do."

Sirius pauses for a moment, eyes searching yours, and you can feel your breath catch in your throat. Then, slowly, he moves closer and closer still, until his lips almost touch yours.

There is a feeling that you can't quite put into words.

"I want you," he murmurs, an admission that hangs in the air like a charged electric current. "I want to be with you. I want you to be happy– I'll even accept your awful taste in music," he adds with a playful smirk, teasingly referencing your occasional guilty pleasure for a particular genre of music that he often mocks.

A laugh escapes your lips, a combination of relief and affection. His sincerity is pretty close to melting away any remaining doubts that linger in your heart. "I have great taste in music," you state playfully.

Sirius brushes the side of his nose against yours affectionately. "Sometimes," he gives in, voice filled with genuine warmth.

You lean into his touch, savoring the tenderness and intimacy of the moment. It's as if the world around you has faded away, leaving only the two of you in this bubble of shared emotions.

"Sometimes?" you raise an eyebrow, pretending to be offended.

He chuckles, a low and melodic sound that resonates deep within your chest, a sound you don't get to hear as often as you'd like. "You're lucky you're pretty," he teases, his voice filled with affectionate playfulness.

"Oh?"

"I have a soft spot for pretty girls."

You roll your eyes but can't help the smile that forms on your lips. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Black."

Sirius leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, pulling away with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Who said I was trying to get anywhere?" he whispers, fingers trailing along the curve of your waist, drawing you closer. "I'm already where I want to be."

Your heart swells with warmth, and you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Smooth talker."

It doesn't sound like an accusation when you're about to kiss him.

[faithfulren]

the unseen heart

y/n has feelings for bakugo, but he seems oblivious or uninterested, causing emotional turmoil.

----

you sighed as you watched katsuki bakugo from across the classroom. he was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, his usual scowl plastered on his face. despite his rough exterior, you couldn't help but be drawn to him. there was something about his determination and raw strength that captivated you.

"y/n, are you even paying attention?" your friend, mina, whispered, nudging you with her elbow.

you snapped back to reality, your cheeks flushing. "sorry, what did you say?"

mina rolled her eyes playfully. "i said, you're staring again. when are you going to tell him how you feel?"

you glanced at bakugo again, then quickly looked away. "i don't know if I can. he probably doesn't even see me that way."

mina frowned, concern in her eyes. "you won't know unless you try. besides, bakugo might surprise you."

you nodded, though doubt gnawed at you. the bell rang, signaling the end of class. you gathered your things and headed out, determined to push your feelings aside and focus on training.

--

later that day, you found yourself alone in the training grounds, practicing your quirk. you were so absorbed in your routine that you didn't notice bakugo approaching until he spoke.

"you're doing it wrong."

you spun around, startled. "bakugo! what are you doing here?"

he crossed his arms, eyes narrowed. "what does it look like? i'm here to train. and you're going about it all wrong."

you frowned, a mix of irritation and embarrassment bubbling up. "i'm doing just fine, thanks."

bakugo scoffed. "fine? you're wasting energy with unnecessary movements. watch."

he demonstrated a more efficient technique, his movements precise and powerful. you couldn't help but admire him, even as your heart ached. it was moments like this that reminded you why you fell for him in the first place.

"see? that's how you do it," he said, turning to you.

you nodded, trying to mask your emotions. "thanks, bakugo."

he grunted in response, turning back to his own training. you watched him for a moment, then resumed your practice, trying to ignore the pang in your chest.

--

days turned into weeks, and your feelings for bakugo only grew stronger. each interaction with him, no matter how brief, was a bittersweet reminder of your unspoken love. you laughed at his snarky comments, cherished his rare moments of praise, and supported him during difficult missions. yet, he remained oblivious, or so it seemed.

one evening, after a particularly grueling day, you found yourself sitting alone on the dormitory rooftop. the cool breeze was a welcome relief, but it did little to soothe your troubled heart. you gazed at the stars, wondering if you'd ever have the courage to tell bakugo how you felt.

"hey, y/n.."

you turned to see mina standing behind you, a concerned look on her face. "hey, mina. what's up?"

she sat down beside you, her expression softening. "i wanted to check on you. you've been acting kind of distant lately."

you sighed, resting your chin on your knees. "it's just… bakugo. i can't get him out of my head, mina. but he doesn't seem to notice me that way."

mina gave you a sympathetic smile. "have you tried talking to him? really talking?"

you shook your head. "i don't think i can. what if he rejects me? what if it ruins everything?"

mina placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "you'll never know if you don't try. and even if it doesn't go the way you hope, at least you'll have closure."

you pondered her words, feeling a mixture of fear and determination. maybe it was time to finally tell bakugo how you felt, no matter the outcome.

--

the next day, you decided to take mina's advice. you found bakugo in the common area, reading a hero magazine. taking a deep breath, you approached him, your heart pounding.

"bakugo, can we talk?"

he glanced up, his eyebrows raised. "what is it?"

you shifted nervously, trying to find the right words. "i… i have something i need to tell you."

he set the magazine aside, giving you his full attention. "well, spit it out."

You took another deep breath, your hands trembling slightly. "bakugo, i… i've had feelings for you for a long time. i know you might not feel the same way, but i needed to tell you."

for a moment, there was silence. bakugo's expression was unreadable, and you feared the worst. then, he spoke.

"y/n, i…"

before he could finish, the alarm sounded, signaling a villain attack. the moment was shattered, and bakugo's expression hardened. "we'll talk later. right now, we have to go."

you nodded, pushing your feelings aside as you prepared for the mission. as you followed bakugo out, you couldn't help but wonder what he was going to say. but for now, you had to focus on being a hero, even if your heart was breaking.

--

the mission was successful, but the conversation with bakugo never happened. days turned into weeks, and you couldn't bring yourself to bring it up again. you continued to fight alongside him, hiding your feelings behind a mask of professionalism.

but every now and then, you'd catch bakugo looking at you with an unreadable expression, and you'd wonder if maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way. until then, you would keep your heart guarded, hoping that one day, he might see you as more than just a teammate.

[keerysfreckles]

apple pie — CEDRIC DIGGORY

pairing: cedric diggory x fem!hufflepuff!reader

summary: when cedric can't find y/n in the dining hall, hufflepuff common room, library, or her room, he knows exactly where she'd be.

warnings: inspired by apple pie by lizzy mcalpine !!! really short, use of y/n, established relationship.

a/n: guess who finally watched the hp movies 🤭 and i kinda hate the ending but oh well!

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

cedric diggory looked at his wrist for the fifth time that day, slightly smiling to himself as his eyes meet the yellow and black thread wrapped around his skin.

he remembered exactly when he retrieved the bracelet.

it was his second year at hogwarts, her first, and she was more than nervous. even more so when she got put into hufflepuff. althought everyone in the house was extra welcoming to the girl that night, her nerves still got the best of her.

she kept to yourself most times, either reading a book in the common room, napping in your dorm, or making bracelets, a craft she had picked up from your mother.

she were making progress on a bracelet she had started some time ago, and a taller redheaded boy stood beside the chair she were sitting in.

"do you always make these bracelets?" he asked.

the girl immediately jumped, startled by his presense.

she nods, "yeah, i absolutely love making them," she smiles.

"do you think you could make me one?" the boy asks, a lopsided smile playing on his lips.

not even ten minutes pass and cedric hears a knock on his dormitory door, followed by the voice of a girl. his roomnates all fuss about who should get the door, making cedric nominate himself as volunteer.

he swings the door open, his eyes crinkling as he smiles at the girl in front of him. his eyes look down at the bracelet in her hands.

"you've finished it already?" he asks, surprised.

she nods, and holds the bracelet open for his wrist. he complies, holding his arm out as he watches the girl tie the colored thread around his wrist.

"thank you," he pauses, not remembering the girl's name from when she was called up for the sorting hat.

"y/n l/n" she responds. "thank you," now it's her turn to pause.

"cedric diggory."

cedric's movements faulted as he bumped into a fellow hufflepuff, on his way to the common room.

"sorry about that," he immediately apologizes, helping the student up and handing her back her books that fell on the floor.

"it's all good!" she replies.

while cedric has another hufflepuff in his presence, he can't help but ask, "have you seen y/n anywhere? she wasn't in her potions class earlier."

the girl shrugs, "maybe she's in the common room? she might've left class pretty quickly."

cedric thanks the girl, before walking towards the hufflepuff common room. to be fair that was where he planned on checking first, so the question to the girl was just the back up he needed.

however as soon as he stepped foot into the yellow themed room, his girlfriend was no where to be found. he went up the stairs and to the right to check her dorm, but her backpack and books weren't even in there.

cedric goes over the mental checklist in his head of where his love could be.

he immediately crosses off any classes, considering her last one ended an hour ago. now he can cross off the common room and her own room. he decides to head to the dining hall, maybe she got hungry before dinner?

well his theory was quickly proved wrong as she was no where to be seen in the large dining hall.

he went over the mental checklist again, as he made his way through the castle towards the library. surely you had to be in there right?

wrong.

cedric checked the sections where he knew y/n's favorite books and topics were. he checked the herbology, potions and history of magic sections, yet there was no sign of her.

as cedric exited the library, he finally thought of the last place he knew you'd be. the kitchen.

he remembers y/n telling stories of how she'd always bake with her mother during the holidays, and as thanksgiving was coming up, cedric could only pray you'd be in the kitchen.

cedric felt a small weight being lifted off his shoulders after he opened the double doors. there she was, her back was facing him as she stood against the island in the middle of the room. it smelled of apples, honey, and cinnamon, as cedric watched for a moment as she seemed to be folding something in front of her.

the door behind him finally closed shut, making y/n turn to face him.

"oh, ced! what are you doing here?" she turns back to her task at hand.

"i was looking for you. couldn't seem to find you anywhere after your last class," cedric comes up behind y/n, resting his head on her shoulder while holding her waist. "what are you working on in here?"

y/n smiles, "my mom's famous apple pie."

cedric hums, "my favorite." he finally notices he folded pie dough in y/n's hands.

"would you like any help?"

y/n nods, "yes please," she points to the bowl besides the stove, "you could put the apples in the pie for me."

cedric begins to help y/n, watching diligently as she folds the dough into the pie pan, cutting off any excess crust. he carefully spoons in the apples, not wanting the crust or apples to get ruined in any way. he even offers to put it in the oven for her, which she happily obliges to.

the two now stood besides the island counter, content with the silence, until y/n breaks it.

"you still have that bracelet?" she fiddles with the thread almost falling off cedric's arm.

cedric nods, "of course, i've never taken it off."

y/n can't help but laugh, "you cannot be serious."

cedric simply nods again, "i'm more than serious love. keep it on every day, during quidditch, and even when i sleep and shower."

y/n begins to play with the faded yellow and black strings, as she leans her head against his chest. he brings his other hand to her head, rubbing his thumb up and down over her hair.

the couple seem to enjoy the quietness they can always deliver. they don't need to be doing anything fancy to enjoy each other's company. simply being by one another was more than enough.

y/n pulled her head back to look up in her boyfriend's eyes.

"what?" his voice was quiet.

y/n shakes her head slightly, "nothing, just admiring you."

cedric feels a small blush crawling up his neck towards his cheeks. he smiles before leaning down slightly to connect his lips with y/n's.

"i love you," cedric mumbles against her lips.

y/n giggles as if this was the first time he's shared those three words to her.

"i love you more," she responds.

[bangchansdirty-slut]

Can you write soobin x male reader where soobin gets jealous of m/n hanging out with his friends and ignores him so the m/n make it up to him

Paring: Top!Soobin x Bottom!Male reader

Genre: Smut

Requested

More: Masterlist

A/n: Sorry for the delay. Got food poisoning and had to catch up on schoolwork. Hope you enjoy it! Also, I mistakenly disabled anonymous requests. But now it's fixed! Please feel free to request anonymously.

The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the city as Soobin stood outside the dormitory. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease in his gut. His boyfriend, M/n, had been spending more and more time with the other members, leaving Soobin feeling increasingly ignored and jealous. It didn't help that the dormitory, which had once been their safe haven, now felt more like a place where Soobin was constantly reminded of his boyfriend's growing attachment to his members.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he made his way back to his car. The air was cool against his skin, a welcome relief from the suffocating heat that had been hanging over the city for days. As he drove home, his mind raced with thoughts of confronting M/n and demanding more of his attention.

When he finally arrived at M/n's apartment, his stomach was in knots. He hadn't seen his boyfriend since they'd left the dorm, and he couldn't help but feel anxious about what M/n might be doing with the other members. He took a deep breath, steadying himself before knocking on the door.

M/n answered the door a moment later, looking up at Soobin with a warm smile. "Hey, baby. I'm glad you're here. I missed you." His voice was soft and reassuring, and it made some of Soobin's tension start to ease. "I was just about to order dinner. Do you want anything in particular?"

Soobin hesitated for a moment, still feeling a little hurt, but he forced a smile back. "I'm not really hungry," he lied. "I just wanted to see you." He stepped inside, glancing around the familiar apartment. "How was your day?"

M/n followed him in, closing the door behind them. "It was alright. We just hung out and talked about music, you know?" He walked over to Soobin, wrapping his arms around him. "I missed you too. I'm sorry I've been spending so much time with the others. I didn't mean to make you feel left out."

Soobin leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. "It's okay," he said softly. "I understand. I just… wanted to be with you tonight." He took a deep breath, trying to shake off the remaining bitterness. "Can I… can I spend the night?"

M/n pulled back, his eyes searching Soobin's face. There was a mixture of hope and uncertainty in his expression. "Of course, baby. I want you to stay. I'm sorry I've been such a shitty boyfriend lately." He kissed Soobin softly on the lips, his tongue teasing the seam. "How about I make it up to you?"

Soobin smiled, returning the kiss more eagerly this time. "I'd like that," he murmured, running his hands up M/n's chest. He felt a thrill of anticipation course through him as he thought about what M/n might have in store.

M/n led Soobin over to the couch, their bodies pressed tightly together as they kissed. He could feel Soobin's erection pressing against his thigh, and the knowledge that his boyfriend was turned on by him filled him with a sudden rush of desire. He broke the kiss, breathing heavily. "Why don't you take off your clothes, baby? I want to see all of you."

Soobin nodded, beginning to unbutton his shirt. As he peeled it off, revealing his chest, he caught M/n's appreciative gaze and felt a wave of heat spread through him. He kicked off his shoes and socks, then unzipped his pants, letting them fall to the floor. He stepped out of them, standing before M/n in nothing but his underwear.

M/n licked his lips, taking in the sight of Soobin's bare chest and the prominent erection straining against his boxer briefs. He moved closer, running his hands up Soobin's thighs, feeling the warmth and firmness of his skin. He kissed Soobin again, more roughly this time, their tongues tangling together as they explored each other's mouths.

Breaking the kiss, M/n pushed Soobin back onto the couch, straddling his hips. He leaned forward, taking one of Soobin's nipples into his mouth and sucking hard. Soobin let out a small groan as pleasure coursed through him. M/n moved lower, kissing and nipping his way down Soobin's stomach, before finally reaching his target. He grabbed Soobin's boxer briefs and tugged them down, freeing his erection.

Soobin gasped as M/n wrapped his lips around the head of his cock, sucking gently at first and then with more force. He arched his back, his hands fisting in the couch cushions. M/n bobbed his head, taking more of Soobin into his mouth, the hot wetness surrounding him sending shivers of pleasure through his body. He felt M/n's hand grip his hip, guiding him in deeper, and he moaned, thrusting his hips forward in time with M/n's movements.

M/n pulled off, lips wet and shining with Soobin's essence. He looked up at Soobin, their eyes meeting in a heated gaze. "You taste so good," he whispered before leaning down to take one of Soobin's nipples into his mouth, sucking roughly as he began to stroke him again. Soobin felt himself close to the edge, his hips bucking up into each thrust of M/n's hand.

With a growl, Soobin flipped them over, pinning M/n beneath him. He positioned himself between M/n's legs, feeling the heat and wetness of his entrance as he slowly lowered himself down. He thrust forward, feeling the head of his cock press against M/n's prostate. M/n arched his back, letting out a gasp as the sensation overtook him. Soobin began to move, slowly at first, but gaining speed as he lost himself in the pleasure of being inside M/n's body.

The friction of their skin together was exquisite, and M/n's moans only fueled Soobin's desire. He grabbed M/n's hips, holding him tightly as he thrust deeper and harder. M/n's ass was incredibly tight, and it felt incredible as he bottomed out inside of him. Soobin knew he couldn't last much longer. He began to thrust faster, harder, feeling the familiar tightness building in his groin.

As he neared his release, he reached down between them, finding M/n's half-hard cock. He stroked it in time with his thrusts, guiding it to his entrance. When M/n's cock was fully embedded in his hand, he squeezed, feeling the softness give way as it hardened under his touch. M/n arched his back, crying out his pleasure, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Soobin thrust harder, feeling the pressure build in his own groin. He could feel his cum rising, ready to spill free. He looked down at M/n, watching as his own thrusts pushed his cock deeper inside of him, stretching the tight muscles. He couldn't hold back any longer. With a growl, he released himself, thrusting powerfully as his seed spilled into M/n's body.

M/n arched his back, crying out in ecstasy as he felt Soobin's hot cum filling him up. His own orgasm overtook him, his body tensing and spasming as he came, shooting his own load deep inside of Soobin. The sensation was overwhelmingly pleasurable, and he clung to Soobin, their bodies moving together in a rhythm of bliss.

As the aftershocks of their climaxes began to subside, they lay there together, panting and sweaty. M/n wrapped his arms around Soobin, feeling the warmth of his skin against his own. They stayed like that for several minutes, catching their breath and reveling in the closeness they shared.

[twstgarden]

❀ ❝ 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗵𝘂𝗿𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂? ❞

━ diasomnia (malleus draconia, lilia vanrouge, silver, sebek zigvolt) x fem! reader (separated)

━ after a fight broke out, you received several injuries and you tried to hide them from your beloved. however, he discovers your wounds and quickly comes to your aid. (f/n means first name) (reader can be yuu or an oc)

requested by: anonymous <3

request type: scenario

requester's message: “Who hurt you?” + taking care of injury/comfort

florist's note: hello, lovely anon! thank you for filling out the form~

this work does not contain spoilers for chapter 7, diasomnia’s arc.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

ko-fi here if you want to support me <3

━ 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙪𝙨 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙖 ━

it came as a surprise to malleus when he came to your room to see you hissing softly in pain as you dabbed your wounds with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball. you were in bad shape - smudged blood on the side of your lips, dried tear stains on your cheeks, bloody cuts on your forearms and fists - it was clear that you had gotten into a fight.

"child of man?"

hearing his voice made your eyes widen in panic for a moment before you hid the cotton ball and smiled at him, feigning innocence as if the wounds were magically not there. however, you knew better than to fool this man, for he has already seen how wounded you are and still dares to smile at him as if you were fine.

he stepped closer towards you, hands gently cupping your cheek as if he were handling a delicate treasure, his expression morphing from shock and concern to anger.

"...who did this to you?"

you froze the moment he spoke with clear anger in his tone, and you tried to stutter out a reply, "it's... this is nothing..."

"this is not nothing. who hurt you?" asked malleus once more.

"i just got into a fight with some students from another dorm," you mumbled, not wanting to give him more details. he stayed silent for a moment before reaching his hand forward and using his magic on you.

a quick feeling of relief and coolness engulfed your senses before it all died down. you no longer felt the pain in your wounds or the dizziness you experienced a few minutes ago.

malleus sat beside you and wrapped his arms around you, hoping to comfort you after whatever you have gotten yourself into. seeing as you weren't willing to tell him everything, he knew it must be something bad and you did not worry him.

his warm embrace relaxed your nerves as you sighed and sank into the feeling of his hug, resting your head on his chest as you wrapped your arms around him, "...they were making fun of me, so i had to defend myself..."

he stayed silent as he listened to you speak. the undeniable feeling of escalating anger filled his thoughts as he held onto you a little tighter the more you spoke of your recent encounter with the other students, "i was just defending myself, and they suddenly got physical... i don't know what i did wrong for them to hate me so much..."

malleus was sure you were silently crying into his chest as you spoke, and he held you close with a hand on your hand, caressing your hair as he spoke in a soft, comforting tone, "who were they, dearest?"

a soft sniffle was heard before you told him who they were and which dormitory they were from. the knowledge you gave him made him hum in reply as he kissed your forehead and gave you soothing words to calm you down.

as soon as the next day came, you realised no one was pestering you all morning. while you have welcomed this new sense of peace, you can't help but wonder if malleus had anything to do with their sudden distance... or disappearance.

━ 𝙡𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙖 𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙚 ━

lilia was humming a tune as he walked down the halls of your dormitory, bringing a mini bouquet of your favourite flowers that he picked out himself in diasomnia's garden. as soon as he arrived at your door, however, he heard soft sniffling sounds followed by a few noises of things moving around.

out of concern, he slowly opened the door and peeked inside, only to see you sitting before your vanity mirror, wiping your tears and the blood on the side of your forehead. the sight of this made lilia panic as he quickly rushed to your side, placing the mini bouquet on the table and cupping your cheeks as he spoke, "n/n?! my dear, what happened? who did this to you?"

you were surprised to see him all of a sudden, but you sniffled softly and spoke in reply, "a classmate..." lilia sighed and healed your wound, kissing your forehead right after as he hugged you, "oh, my lovely girl. why did you not call for my help?"

"i can handle it..." you responded as you looked at your reflections in the mirror, seeing him hug you tightly with your head on his chest as if he was cradling it like a baby.

"i know you can, my independent darling, but i'm right here to protect you and aid you," replied lilia as he looked at the mirror as well before kissing your forehead once again, "please, don't bite off more than you can chew."

"okay..." you mumbled before smiling at him a little, thanking him for healing you. you then glanced at the mini bouquet as you grabbed it and stood up, kissing his cheek as you spoke, "and thank you for the flowers."

━ 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧 ━

"n/n?"

silver's voice reached your ears as you looked up at him, seeing him look down at you with worry before holding you in a bridal carry, running down the hall as he rushed to the infirmary without another word.

it did not take long for him to set you down on the infirmary bed as he spoke while looking at you and the wound on your leg, blood trickling down your calves as it stained your clothes and his, but his stained clothes were the last thing he was worried about.

"what happened?"

you were hesitant to speak as he took off his jacket and wrapped it around you for warmth before speaking softly once more, "who did this to you, f/n?"

a soft sigh left your lips, trying to fight through the stinging pain on your leg as you replied, "it was just an accident... a bunch of students were playing in the courtyard, and i happened to pass by..." silver then looked at your wound before taking a quick glance at you, "may i...?"

you nodded, allowing him to inspect the injury and clean off the blood as you both waited for the nurse to arrive at the infirmary. after he cleaned off the blood, he held your hand and spoke in the same comforting and gentle tone, "be careful next time, okay?"

you hummed in reply as you tightened your hold on his hand, "...okay..."

silver was relieved that you were alright now. placing a soft kiss on your hand, he smiled gently, "i'll stay here by your side until you're healed."

━ 𝙨𝙚𝙗𝙚𝙠 𝙯𝙞𝙜𝙫𝙤𝙡𝙩 ━

the young diasomnia student was patrolling around the school one evening with the other diasomnia students as a means to look out for any dangerous creatures and/or people that may harm their master on the tournament the next day.

during the patrol, he happened to stumble upon you crying softly by the well in the courtyard. confusion and worry latched onto his expression as he ran towards you and held his arms out to help you up, "why are you crying?"

his voice was a little loud, as it usually was, but it brought you a sense of comfort and safety as soon as you heard him. you wiped your tears away as you looked up at him, and he could see some bruises on your cheek along with a few cuts on your lip.

sebek's eyes widened in shock for a moment before he held your shoulders and exclaimed, "who did this to you?!" surprised by his sudden exclamation, you did not reply.

"f/n, who did this to you?!" he repeated once more, and you finally told him who it was - a student in the same dorm as you who had been pestering you since your first day. once he knew who that was, an exhale of irritation left him before he carried you to the infirmary. once he set you down, he said, "wait here."

he then left the infirmary, letting you get treated by the school nurse while they asked questions about the incident. it wasn't until a few minutes later when sebek had returned to the infirmary with a rather tamer aura than earlier. he sat beside your bed, seeing the cuts on your lips cleaned and covered with ointment while you held a cold pack on your bruised cheeks.

"why did you not look for me?" asked sebek as he frowned, showing his pure sadness and concern to you as he finally settled down after a pit of anger upon seeing your bruised state. you held his hand and spoke softly, "i did not want to bother you while you work..."

"i..." trailed sebek before you caressed his cheek after you held his hand, "thank you... though... for bringing me to the infirmary." a sigh left sebek's lips as he spoke, "that's the least i could do..."

"and yet i appreciate it a whole lot more," you replied before he gently hugged you, hoping you'd feel better with his presence and semi-awkward embrace. the comforting moment lasted for a while before you asked, "by the way, where did you go?"

sebek stayed silent for a moment before he mumbled, "do not concern yourself over it."

the next day came and you were suddenly approached by the same student at lunch. you prepared yourself for any impact out of instinct, but what came next was nothing short of a shock. the student stood there, quaking like a leaf and face as pale as a ghost, "i'm sorry..."

hearing the apology stunned you. the student's eyes wandered around before they gulped and spoke in a louder voice, "i-i'm sorry for beating you up and causing you harm. from now on, i will stay out of your way..."

without another word, the student ran off and you were left stunned for a moment before you looked at sebek, seeing him casually having his meal before looking at you. you then smiled and thanked him, knowing that he had something to do with the sudden apology.

hearing your thanks made sebek smile as he spoke in the same confident and loud tone as he always does, "no thanks needed! as long as it means you'll be safe!"

© twstgarden 2024 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.

[distantdarlings]

BIRTHDAY ANXIETY // m. riddle

RATING: R / 3.3K WORDS

Mattheo Riddle x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* After a particularly difficult day dealing with the constant attention that comes with your birthday, Mattheo helps you to slow down a bit. (Smut, Fluff)

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Oral - f!receiving, praise, Dom!Mattheo, mentions of anxiety, language, fem reader, not proofread (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

HER - Chase Atlantic

- - -

“Yes, thank you again—you really are too sweet,” you laughed, your throat starting to burn beneath the constant thanking. Your fingers nervously tightened around the small bag in your hands. You wished they would just let you disappear into the common room.

“Have a good rest of your birthday, friend!”

“Thank you,” you smiled, “I’m going to head back to my dorms, okay?” And with a few more waves and some nervous smiles, you found yourself through the common room door. You took a deep inhale, letting it fill every corner of your lungs before letting it out slowly. The intent of it was to calm you, but you reckoned it just made you more nervous.

You felt guilty for thinking it, but sometimes you just wished you didn’t have a birthday. The constant bombardment of attention you hadn’t even asked for in the first place, coupled with the existential panic, knowing that you only got one shot at life and your time was dwindling, made you really upset. Birthdays freaked you out—you couldn’t lie.

You were grateful for the people in your life who cared enough to take a bit of time out of their day to wish you a happy birthday or to grab you a small gift, but you often wished they wouldn’t. That sounded shitty, but you couldn’t help it. If you truly wanted anything on your birthday, it was to be left completely and utterly alone with your spooky, aging thoughts.

The present in your hands had been given to you by Pansy during second period. As soon as she had given it to you, everyone else had to wish you a happy birthday, and thus, all of the attention was brought on to you. It was miserable—like you were suffocating. Consistent self-imposed guilt trips led you to believe you were a terrible person for thinking these things, but you always came back to one thought. That you couldn’t help the way your brain was, the way it functioned. Sometimes, it felt as though your brain was powered by anxiety. It was exhausting.

You power-walked back to the girls’ dormitories and nearly escaped into your room with no more wishes of happy birthday. Thankfully, there was no one else in the dorm room. The peace and quiet bade you welcome to collapse onto your bed, thankful that the day was over. Curiosity led you to finally open the gift from Pansy. It was concealed in a shiny green gift bag with a sparkly, translucent ribbon tied over the handles. It was quite…Pansy, if you’d ever seen something so like her. You smiled a bit at the sweet girl who—despite your constant hopes that she would—never forgot any kind of gift.

You set it between your outstretched legs and pulled the ribbon loose, letting the handles fall open. Inside was a neatly folded knit sweater with a lovely design over the sleeves. Upon further inspection, you noticed that a winding silver snake was added to the sleeves. You supposed it was meant to represent your house. Your stomach flipped in elation. Oh, it was just perfect. What a beautiful, thoughtful gift. You instantly felt ashamed of being so dismissive earlier when she had given you the bag. Hopefully, she knew that you weren’t being rude on purpose; you just hated the attention. Ugh. You felt awful.

You set the sweater at the edge of the bed with the intention of washing it and wearing it the next day. For now, though, you just wanted to rest and maybe pity yourself a bit. Fuck, you were pathetic. You groaned and tossed yourself back against your bed, hoping to fall asleep and just forget all of the events of the day.

A rhythmic knock came upon the door suddenly. Your eyes popped back open. Suppressing a groan, you invited the person in. You hoped it was just a roommate wanting to pass through, but your luck suggested it was another birthday wisher. Be grateful, be grateful, be grateful.

The door pushed open and in walked your boyfriend. A wave of relief washed over you at the sight. His dark curls fell over his eyes as he quirked his eyebrows, a slight smirk popping over his lips. You swore you’d never tire of his smiles.

“Hey, birthday girl,” he said. You groaned and rolled your eyes, your head falling back in disappointment.

“Well, that didn’t seem very exciting,” he chuckled, crossing the floor.

“I swear that’s all I’ve heard today,” you sighed, scootching over so he could take the space next to you. He slid in beside you, one leg crossing over the other. “I just wish I could skip my birthday.”

“I know, darling,” he smiled. “They mean well, though. Don’t you wish people a happy birthday when it’s theirs?”

“That’s a good point,” you shrug, eyes fixated on your hands. You didn’t want to seem ungrateful, it just seemed hard to be totally comfortable with the spotlight on you all day long. Mattheo understood that aspect of you; he always had. That was one of the many reasons you adored him.

“I’m sorry you’ve had a rough day,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Can I help you relax?”

You give a small nod and allow him to gently roll you over onto your stomach. With steady breaths and slow movements, Mattheo slips his uniform jacket off, loosens his tie, and removes his shoes. He settled himself over top of the backs of your thighs, applying a small amount of pressure but never bearing his full weight. Ever the gentleman. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted him rolling the sleeves of his uniform shirt up to his elbows. Merlin, you always loved it when he did that. It always showed off his muscular, darkened forearms so perfectly. It just made him look so authoritative and perfect. It placed a small blush in your stomach.

“Let me take your shirt off, darling,” he whispered, his mouth suddenly against your ear. You jumped slightly at the sudden close proximity before nodding at his request. He backed up for a moment to allow you to lean up onto your knees. You begin to pull each button out of its sleeve before his arms wrap around your body. His fingers replace yours in separating the halves of your shirt. His breath is warm and heavy against your bare skin. It elicits shocking chills down the lengths of your arms.

At the sight of the chills lacing your arms, he presses two slow kisses to the side of your neck where it meets your shoulder. You fight the urge to lean your head to one side to allow him more access to you, but you don’t want to seem too needy. He would give you a massage; let him give you one. It didn’t have to be about sex, you scolded yourself.

Once he was done with the buttons, he ever so slowly slid the material off your shoulders and down your arms, being sure to trace his fingertips along your flesh. Whether that was by mistake or not, it twisted a knot in your stomach. Any slight touch would have you begging on your knees, and he knew it. He smirked to himself, hearing your pulse increase. If there was anything that would do him in, it was hearing and seeing the effect he had on you.

“Lay down,” he commanded quietly. You immediately laid back down, your head turning to rest against your pillow. You always listened so well, it made him want you even more. Gradually, he could feel himself becoming more and more needy for you. But he had implied a massage, and he would give one.

Once you were comfortable, he pressed his hands into your back. With expert fingers, he kneaded every knot he could find out of your back. Every time he hit an especially sore area, your lips would part, and a pitiful whine would slip between them. And every time, his pants would continue to get tighter and tighter. The last few times he’d pressed his fingers into your muscles, he’d had to suppress a groan at the sounds coming from you. He wanted nothing more than to be the one making you make those sounds, but for a different reason.

His fingers moved their way down to your lower spine, working each area of tightness loose, ensuring that every ounce of stress was pulled from your body. He wanted to make you feel better in any way he could. His one duty at the moment was to heal you.

“That feels good, baby?” he whispered.

“Yes, Matty,” you groaned. He imagined what this interaction might sound like to any passersby outside, and the thought nearly tipped him over. He was so intent on giving you a massage and nothing else that he’d hardly noticed his hands finally reaching the waistband of your skirt. He rolled his fingers just above it, watching as your spine continued to arch against his hands. His core was painfully hard, the pressure nearly too much to handle. His eyes clenched shut as he bit his lip, trying to gain control over himself. The things you did to him were fucking sinful. And you hadn’t even done anything. You were dangerous.

“I’m going to move down to your legs, sweetheart,” he spoke, waiting for the little nod you did each time. You were perfect.

He moved his hands up and over your ass before hitting the backs of your thickened thighs. As he began to massage his hands over them, he glanced up against the hem of your skirt as the curve of your ass drew it up over itself. The fabric was not long enough to completely stretch over you and stopped just above the start of your thighs. He could just barely make out a pair of laced black bottoms placed taut over your core. Your increasingly wettened core. Shining slick spread over the tiny gap where your thighs met. The fabric of your bottoms was soaked. A devilish smirk slipped over his lips as he realized you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you.

With this newfound knowledge, he intended to tease you a little bit. He wanted to let you know how much he truly cared for you, and he wanted to take his time about it.

Slowly, he worked his fingers ever closer to the tops of your thighs where they met together. With each shift forward, he could see your shoulder clench slightly. Your want was growing darker and darker, and he knew it well. Once he was just an inch away from your core, he lingered there, making sure to get every possible bit of stress out. A quick glance up bore him the visual of your lips parted, your eyebrows furrowed, your fingers tightly gripping the sheets.

“Darling?”

“Mm-hmm?” you whined, your voice cracking a bit. You didn’t change your position in the slightest.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded darkly. You whimpered at the change in his tone, quickly propping your body up. You pushed your ass into the air, keeping your elbows and face planted firmly into the pillows. Finally, he’d taken a bit of initiative to do something for you. You were beginning to worry he genuinely only wanted to give you a massage. Perhaps you should have been a bit clearer in your signals.

Once in position, he wasted no time in flipping your skirt over your hips, letting it fall against your back. You shivered at the sensation, feeling the cool air meet your drenched core with an icy kiss. His warm breath expanded across your flesh, combatting the chill.

“So obedient,” he whispered, a small groan coming from his lips as he massaged the sides of your hips. You sighed at his words, clenching the pillowcases as tightly as you could. You were a few moments away from begging for him.

His thumbs finally curved over your ass, slowly caressing the exposed flesh and eventually coming to trace the line of your bottoms as he curved down to your core. You could barely contain any of the noises seeping from your lips as his fingers drew closer to you. You needed him to touch you so badly.

“Matty, please,” you moaned.

“Please, what?” he teased. A single thumb came down to swipe over your core, his flesh dragging against the wet material covering you. An audible shudder went through your body at the sensation.

“More.”

“Of what, darling? I need you to use your words. Can you do that for me?” he asked, his voice teasing and mean.

“Please touch me,” you whined, arching your back toward him. A small chuckle left his lips before he pressed his thumb to you through your bottoms. The sensation pushed a jolt through your body, causing you to buck your hips against him shamelessly. Despite your desperate movements, his stayed exactly the same. Even pressure, moving in tight circles over you, had you panting. Your consistent begging was not lost on his ears as he began to move his fingers faster, never weakening. He’d do this for the rest of eternity if he could continue to hear your beautiful sounds.

“Please, baby, more,” you groaned into the pillows.

“So greedy…,” he drew the words out as he pulled his fingers away from you, much to your dismay, and began to press slow, open-mouthed kisses down your bare back. As his lips curved over the clasp of your bra, his fingers matched their position. He unclipped the material, letting it fall to either side of you.

Once removed, he replaced your bra with his own hands, massaging your breasts slowly, letting the sensation sink in. You gasped as his remarkably hard core brushed against yours. Surely, that had to be frustrating. Why didn’t he just get on with it already? Why must he always tease?

He released your breasts and traced his fingers down your sides, learning every curve and dip. He watched pridefully as you shuddered against his touch, your body so painfully reactive to him.

Once his fingers reached your hips, he hooked them beneath the waistband of your bottoms and slowly, agonizingly, pulled them down to your knees. Then you were completely bare and exposed to him, every part of you catching the cool air. You moaned slightly at the feeling.

There was but a moment of nothing before he clasped his lips around your core, inducing a strong moan from you. He couldn’t help it; he could barely hold himself back as it was, let alone refuse a taste of you. A taste that he had become so accustomed to in the last while. He was sure that the smell and taste of you would revive him from the dead.

He licked and sucked and kissed, spelling out every bit of his passion, fucking his tongue into you. What he did to your body was sinful. Even the slightest of skims of his flesh on yours had you clutching the sheets. It was pathetic, really. You half-cringed at yourself each time a loud moan poured from you, but Mattheo drew closer and closer to his orgasm each time he heard the beautiful noises. The two of you could not have more different opinions on them.

His hands gripped you tightly in place while his mouth showed no mercy—per usual. With each second, you were growing closer to your end. It felt as though Mattheo wanted you to finish all over his face, the way he was feasting on you like a starved man. The sounds that came from his lips and throat as he pleasured himself against your soaked cunt had you clenching around nothing. Surely, he didn’t mean for you to come this way, did he?

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned against you, the vibrations rattling against you. “Cum on my tongue. I want to taste you.”

Fuck, maybe he did want you to come this way. The thought of him purposefully working you toward your end specifically to taste your arousal was nearly enough to send you over the edge.

“Don’t stop, baby,” you whined, your fingers tightening into his hair, scraping his scalp. “Matty, please!”

“Keep saying my name, sweetheart,” he groaned.

With each second you drew closer to your finish, your thighs tightened around his head and your core gushed more and more against his lips. His flesh was raw and painted with you, but he couldn’t care less. All he wanted was for you to come against his face with your fingers in his hair and his name on your tongue. He wanted the whole of Slytherin house to know who you belonged to.

“Baby,” you breathed, your voice becoming high-pitched and pitiful. “M-Matty, I’m gonna c—”

“Cum,” he commanded, his mouth placing one last languorous suck against your core. Your back arched off of the mattress, Mattheo’s name printed on your lips, and passing from every exit. The product of your arousal spilled from you and onto his tongue, which he accepted graciously.

Once you’d finally relaxed and come down off of your high, Mattheo leaned forward and, with complete eye contact, brushed the remnants of your finish off of his chin and licked it off of his fingers.

“Precious material,” he whispered. A tired giggle erupted from you at his words. When he collapsed down next to you and wrapped his arms around you, you thought you’d found the last comfortable place on earth.

In Mattheo’s arms, nobody could get to you, not even the purest of well-wishers. After the entirety of your evening was spent with Mattheo fucking you like only he could, you still found yourself slipping back into a guilty mindset. A sigh left you.

“Still upset?” he whispered against your hair, lips brushing your forehead.

“I just feel guilty,” you said, “I don't want any of these people thinking I’m not grateful. I love gifts, it’s just…”

“Well,” he started. “It’s a good thing you like gifts.”

He leant himself up and reached down over the side of the bed. You pushed yourself to a sitting position to watch as he dug through the pockets of his jacket. In a few seconds, he’d produced a small box, wrapped in green paper, much like Pansy’s. A flush grew on your cheeks.

“Mattheo,” you breathed. You took the gift into your hands. “What on Earth is this?”

“Darling, despite how much you hate the attention, it’s still your birthday,” he chuckled, urging you to open it.

With a small breath, you slipped the top of the gift box up and noticed a small tag on the inside with your name written in Mattheo’s quick scrawl. Beneath the tag, was a small bundle of tissue paper. You felt your pulse increasing by the minute.

With shaking fingers, you unraveled the small amount of tissue paper to reveal an almost complete replica of Mattheo’s ring with a slight feminine touch to it. You gasped, tears pooling.

“Merlin, how much was this?” you asked without thinking. Panic set in at the thought of him spending any amount of money on you. Then you realized it was rude to ask about cost. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Baby, it’s okay,” he laughed. “No material costs could ever outweigh you.” You watched as he pulled it from your hands and gently slid it on your finger.

“There, now everyone will properly know that you’re mine,” he said, smirking.

“I thought you liked to mark me up for that,” you teased. A streak of pride pooled in your stomach as his eyes darkened significantly at your words. You knew that, without a doubt, there was no way you were getting out of this with just one round.

*Tag List: @lilymurphy03 @mypolicemanharryyy @angelfrombeneth @clairesjointshurt @bunbunbl0gs @acornacreacure @niktwazny303 (if you would like to be added to the tag list, please comment on this post, send me a dm, or message in my inbox. Thanks!)

[b14augrana]

Nervous

You find yourself sitting next to Lucy on the team bus during the ride to your first match after an interesting first impression

Lucy Bronze x teen!reader

pt. 1 masterlist

Warnings: teen reader so no smut and also not proofread xx

A/N: this was requested!! sorry it took ages for me to write this second part, it’s been a hard week for barça fans 🫤. bear with me guys but this is kinda short 🤦‍♀️!! i’m making up for it with a part 2 of my ona fic if anyone cares heh… 😅

Meditating. The only way you could possibly shake off the nerves of your first game... if that was even possible. What was a big deal to most players was an even bigger deal for you. Not because it was a special match of any sort, but because you felt like you had something to prove, y'know, being 17 and all. Being young, underestimated, and in some eyes, unreliable.

That all led you to sitting cross-legged on your bed, meditating and almost losing your breath completely trying to hold it and calm yourself down. You couldn't tell if it was actually calming you down or just getting you closer to losing consciousness, so you stopped shortly after.

The team bonding sleepover you had with your new teammates had flown by, and before you knew it, it was 6 something in the morning and you were calling a taxi to take you back to La Masia, your bags slung on your arms and weighing your already tired body down. That was a couple days ago, and now you weren't as groggy and you had retrieved the t-shirt you left at Aitana's house.

You liked it though. You got to know the girls and you definitely bonded. You just could not stop thinking about Lucy.

She was cocky, and she was attractive — that was probably the worst combination. What made it even worse was that she knew she was attractive.

It wasn't just the way she talked, but the way she sat with her legs spread and her arms splayed along the couch, the way the muscles in her forearm slightly flexed with every slight movement, the way she smiled. The way she was very, very well aware of the effect her actions had on you.

"Muchaha, vamos!" said a voice from the hall of the dormitories which you could only recognise as Ona. She peered around your door frame, rolling her eyes. "Are you gonna move or keep sitting there? We've got a bus to get on!"

"Shit, I forgot about that. Lo siento," you replied, snatching up your gear and almost tripping on your way out. You stumbled down the hallway and down the stairs, exiting the academy complex to be faced with the huge team bus. It was staggering to realise how big it actually was, and you were glued to the spot in shock for a moment before a firm tug on your wrist snapped you out of your trance and dragged you onto the bus.

At first glance, it looked like there weren't any seats at all. "Where are you gonna–" you started, but then you were cut off. "Looks like someone saved you a seat, Ona remarked.

You looked at her, your eyebrows knitted in confusion, and they tightened when she dashed to the back of the bus and slumped next to Aitana. You threw your hands up and shook your head in further confusion.

She pointed to the only other vacant seat, and their simultaneously mischievous winks didn't make sense until you looked over to where they were pointing.

Lucy was looking at you with a smirk, and beside her was an empty seat. Your eyes widened as you glared at Aitana and Ona, pleading and begging with your eyes for them not to make you sit next to her. They had obviously picked up on your behaviour around Lucy, because they pretended not to notice you, leaving you with no other option but to sit next to Lucy. Her smirk was far from welcoming, and it actually irritated you as you threw your bag into the overhead luggage compartment and sat down, crossing your arms.

"What's wrong, (Y/N)? Did I do something?" she jeered, whispering in your ear. "Cut it out, Lucy," you snapped back.

"Hey, this isn't my fault. You're the one that's all frustrated for no reason about sitting next to me when I’ve done nothing," she replied, laughing at your behaviour.

"You’re too pretty to be scowling like that. Gives you wrinkles," Lucy continued, looking over at you with that same smirk that you just wanted to slap off her face. That same smirk that drove you crazy in more ways than just one. You couldn’t tell if it was just her personality, or if she deliberately did these things to get under your skin. Either way, that’s what was happening.

"Whatever. Thanks, I guess," you mumbled, not being able to help the warmth in your cheeks. You knew it was wrong, because you were 17, she was God knows how old, but you couldn't help whatever it was that made you want her despite wanting to hate her so badly. It was a contradiction you couldn't escape, one that would seem to trouble you until you were 18.

It was irritating to be so bothered and nervous by the woman beside you who could do nothing and still make your breath hitch. Ona and Aitana were probably having a field day in the back of the bus as they watched you struggle, knowing exactly why you were behaving the way you were; because you were attracted to the Englishwoman. You knew it came with being a teenager, but having desires about a certain someone was the last thing you needed on this day specifically, let alone every other day that you’d have to spend with her because it was inevitable.

“¡Mírala! Obviously she likes it,” Aitana whispered to the other Spaniard on her left.

Ona snorted and replied in a hushed voice, “Ni siquiera es mucho más joven, pero aún así sería ilegal. ¡No queremos que Lucy vaya a la cárcel!”

They tried to stifle their laughs as they watched you sneak not-so-discreet glances at the woman beside you. Their attempt was successful for the most part, because you and Lucy didn’t hear, but Patri did, and she gave Ona and Aitana a suspicious glare.

You weren’t paying attention to them — you were too busy distracting yourself by counting down the minutes until you arrived in València… and also the days until your 18th birthday. For no specific reason.

[lil-quinnie]

Pity party

part I

Warning +18 smut, jealous Eddie

Summary college au After Eddie kissed the girl in front of you, you decide you NEED to move on.

F!boy Eddie x Plus size reader

a/n: Hi guys, sorry for the delay in posting part 2. I was very insecure about the story and this year I started working as a full time teacher so time is also very limited, anyway. Sorry for any typo or mistake, i'm brazilian god danmitt. I hope you like it <3

-

The return to your dorm was humiliating, you tried to explain everything that had happened amid sobs and inaudible words, Steve tried to support most of your weight in his arms as he guided you safely to your room. The boy tried to comfort you the whole way, even though he knew what his best friend had done would be difficult to reverse.

With the promise of a call he left the room and disappeared down the crowded halls of the girls' dormitory.

11am

you woke up to an excited call from Robin and Steve, talking about a party that was going to happen that night and how it would be the perfect opportunity for you to try to get a certain metalhead out of your head.

"so, there will be this band and I'm sure one of the members will be your type...I promise" Steve said without thinking, receiving an elbow in the ribs from his best friend "dingus" Robin said rolling her eyes "We pick you up at 8?" the girl asked hopefully.

Even though you didn't want to interact with a lot of people, you agreed that staying in bed wouldn't solve your problem. "Yeah, okay, I'll be ready at 8, bye, see you guys"

-

19pm

One last check in the mirror before hearing Steve's horn followed by Robin's loud laughter. 

You could already see the number of people in the frat garden, indicating that the party was packed. "It's harder to find him this way" you thought , at the same time Steve squeezed your leg, checking if everything was ok.

The blue lights of the crowded living room hurt your eyes, the cigarette smoke turned into fog on the floor of the house, making those lights refract 10 times stronger back at your eyes. Nancy already had a drink for you in her hand because Robin had already told her everything, welcoming you with a smile and a hug as always. 

When she let you go, the girl said just so you could hear "Eddie is looking for you”, causing you to pour the cheap liquid from the cup down your throat in one go.

-

On the other side of the house, the metalhead was negotiating his sales, even though it was a good day and he had sold almost everything he had brought, Eddie couldn't change the uncomfortable expression on his face. 

His mind always brought back the vision of you and Steve hugging, or holding hands, hell even your schedule Steve knew and he didn't, the green bug of jealousy spent all day on his shoulder, blowing fears into his ear that he had been trying to keep away for decades.

Eddie was hustling around the party, looking for potential clients and for you. He saw Robin at the party so of course you were here too.

Some people stopped him to talk, some girls offering themselves as payment (it was no longer new to him), others trying to flirt without it being so obvious, a normal night if you were Eddie Munson.

While finishing a sale he heard your laugh, causing him to turn his entire body towards the origin of the sound, "Fuck" he thought.

Your cleavage revealed the soft mounds of your breasts, making his face burn with jealousy at the thought of anyone else being able to see what should be just his. “Harrington, of course,” he huffed as he put the crumpled bills in his pocket watching Steve making you laugh. 

Eddie's eyes were shining in a purple light, never leaving your face, moving from your cleavage to your eyes and your lips, the tip of his tongue insisted on leaving his pink lip moist and shining, delicious it looked.

Eddie didn't understand what was happening, why his heart raced every time you smiled at someone else or why there was a knot in his stomach every time Steve pulled you closer, or touched your thigh while telling you a story as if you were his, but you weren't, right?

Steve excused himself from a ‘lil crown and threw himself on the old sofa next to you "hi" he said, you responded in the same tone with a shy smile, looking at each other for a while, it could be alcohol or even joints but damn! Steve was really handsome and you’re pretty sure he thinks the same about you.

Soon everybody went to fill their glasses or smoke outside, except Robin who danced with Vickie as if she didn't have early classes tomorrow, leaving you and Steve in your own bubble.

What made Eddie most angry was the fact that you seemed so comfortable with Steve, in the way he couldn't make you feel, he thought. Eddie could never make you stay close to him among a lot of people, you always found an excuse to go to the dorm or any empty place while with Steve... "fucking hell" he exclaimed, while passing the bag with the customer's product. 

Eddie needed something stronger than weed if he wanted to swallow all of his wounded ego to get to you, and he couldn't do it dry. He poured the glass full of whiskey and downed it in two sips, letting a few drops of the golden liquid run down the corner of his mouth wiping it with the back of his hand, determined not to let anything pave the way to you.

You couldn't help the smile that widened every time he got closer. The rosy cheeks showed that Eddie had been drinking, a few curls of hair coming out of his low bun and that smile of someone who wants to be confident even though they're scared... 

How could you be mad at him? how you could cut him out of your life while he gave you that half smile he only gave when he was embarrassed, which was rare for a guy like him.

When Steve's fingers intertwined with yours, Eddie decided he had had enough of that and with his double shot of whiskey, he swallowed all his pride to go talk to you.

His hands in his jacket pocket only showed how uncomfortable he was, even more so after the disaster that happened last night, but he would never forgive himself if he didn't at least try to talk to you again before the night ended. 

On the other side, you and Steve didn't notice as the metalhead approached, still lost in your own world, exchanging too many small caresses and smiles.

He could hear your voice clearly, he even swore he could already smell the moisturizer that covered your skin, so close that he could feel you under his fingerprints.

He cleared his throat trying to get the attention of the two sitting on the sofa, when he realized that he was unsuccessful, he kicked Steve's Nike, who quickly turned his head, letting a HA! to escape from his lips going together with his hands clapping in the air "Munson" he smiled sarcastically, "Harrington" Eddie raised his browns and then turned around for you "can we talk?"

"I don't know, can we?" you said, getting up from the sofa and pulling Steve with you, who protectively wrapped his arm around your waist, hugging you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder, "I have nothing to talk to you right now, Eddie", you said while broking away from Steve's hug, signaling him to lead the way away from there.

"Please, let me talk to you", but before he could hold you, you turned and snapped 

"Isn't there anyone to save you again Eddie? That's why you're coming after me?",

Steve was amused by the situation, it wasn't often that he managed to get under Eddie's skin, so he planned to enjoy it.

"Follow my lead" he said with that smirk on his face.

Steve started to dance with you innocently but noticing the other man's gaze, he decided to be bold.. He had your back pressed against his hairy chest as you danced together to the beat of the music. 

One of his hands held your hips against his crotch, while the other danced down your body side, stopping at your hip and pulling you closer against the tent that was beginning to form in the boy's tight jeans.

Eddie watched everything from the other side of the room, his eyes following every slow movement your body made, burning holes in the uncovered skin of your cleavage. 

Every time Steve pressed his body against yours, Eddie looked away and sawed his fists, causing Steve to proudly smile.

Steve's eyes were locked with eddies while his mouth timidly explored the skin of your shoulder and neck, causing goosebumps that only a metalhead had caused to this day, when he realized that you didn't stop him, he was braver, leaving love bites on the exposed skin. 

Eddie noticed when your thighs pressed together, tighter every time Steve's mouth came close to yours. 

Eddie's heart missed the beat, it felt like hours of torture having to watch you like that with someone else, with his best friend on top of that.

Even though you understood the game Steve was playing, you decided to let yourself go and enjoy the little attention you rarely received. Seeing Eddie's reaction, watching each micro expression that appeared on his face was satisfying, with his knurled eyebrows and wrinkled nose you know that he was feeling the same thing you felt when he did the same in front of you.

"I need to go to the bathroom, angel. Do you want me to fill your cup?" Steve whispered in your ear and you just nodded, letting Steve go with a smile.

This was Eddie's chance to talk to you once and for all, and he no longer had the patience to put up with you being a brat. 

He knew that you would go outside, that you would light a cigarette and that you would wait for Harrington until he arrived with another alcohol bomb, he also knew that if he didn't do anything, he would lose you forever.

The mild temperature due to the late hour of the morning itched your exposed skin, causing goosebumps while you unsuccessfully tried to light your cigarette, too frustrated with everything around you to really pay attention to your surroundings.

“Here” you heard a husky voice coming from near the pool house “let me help you”.

The man approached slowly, the darkness using her cloak to cover your lover's face, only making you realize it was him, by fate's trap, when it was too late.

“I’m good, Edward. Thank you very much” you replied,

"What the hell is all that? What the fuck did I do to make you like this, Huh?” Eddie held your arms tightly, forcing you to look at him, you saw the anxiety and confusion that showed in his eyes, which caused an immeasurable pleasure to ignite in the pit of your stomach as you pressed his buttons more and more.

"What do you think I am Eddie? Just a toy when you don't have one of those dumb girls to fuck?" you spat at him with no mercy "and what do you think you are for him right now?" he said dryly,  "More than I ever was to you, right?"  he looks… hurt.

“Are you even listening to yourself? you’re sounding delusional.” he said letting your arm go.

“Oh! Poor Munson, where's Heather? giving a blowjob to some basketball player before ending up in your bed?" you cringed at the words that should have stayed in your head, giving up on the cigarette and making your way out the conversation.

“WOW!! Who stuck a stick up your ass, cutie? Was it Stevie?” He whispered in your ear, making you pull your arm free from Eddie's grip, leaving the mark of your five fingers on the boy's rosy cheek.

“Ed… I.. I'm" 

"Shut up, just shut the heck up ok?! I'm done with you” he said harshly, making you scared and before  you could say something, apologize or anything, Eddie was pulling you inside the pool house. 

You could feel the beats of the muffled music on the cold wall that Eddie pressed your body against. 

"Eddie, I'm sorry" you pleaded, almost begging, he pinch the bridge of his nose shaking his head in disbelief “let’s talk, please” you pleaded one more time.

"Of course sweetheart, NOW you wanna talk.” he gave you some space, sitting across the room, “just tell me why you're treating me like shit and I'll leave you, forever even.”

"Eddie, you... you” you tried to explain to him but the words just went away.

“I’m what babe? tell me what I did” his voice was almost failing. 

“You kissed her in front of me" you said through sobs “she said horrible things about me…and you did nothing about it” your tears betrayed you, rolling through your pale face, Eddie could see how big the fleek was on your poor heart.

The muffled sound of the party was the only thing that echoed inside that room, that and the heavy breathing of the man who stared at you, as if he had discovered some absurd secret.

“I went after you, I screamed your name several times through those damn corridors…I know you heard me” you could feel the sad tone behind the guy's bad boy pose.

He moved closer to you, entering your space, his contorted face reflected how painful the memory was. “and I found you, oh boy i found you! In the arms of MY best friend” he returned to the opposite side of the room and continued in silence, lighting his cigarette, the orange light from the lighter flame making Eddie's teary eyes shine in the darkness of the pool room.

“Eddie…what are you talking about?” You said with your voice still shaking, not paying much attention to what was said but to your best friend's sad eyes, “YOU kissed another girl in front of me, after we had sex! you asshole.”

Eddie stood up once again this time angrily shouting back at you “I DIDN’T FUCKING KISS HER”.

His hands caged you against the wall, against his body. He looked straight into your face, with his breathing still labored he whispered “and we didn't have sex”.

He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear, the tension could be cut with a knife. His eyes traveled between your eyes and your lips, waiting for a minute of weakness, any sign from you so he could have you the way he'd been wanting since the night you ran away from his dorm. 

Your hands shyly touched Eddie's face, bringing the boy's attention to stillness. You held his face firmly and still so unsure “I'm sorry Eds” you said running your fingers over the welts that marked his cheek.

Eddie pressed your bodies closer and held your hand against his cheek, taking advantage of the gap to connect your lips. The kiss started lightly, Eddie enjoyed every crumb you gave him, his tongue explored your mouth hungrily, trying to feel all your flavor, his thin fingers pressed the flesh of your waist, roaming freely over your abdomen, making your legs go limp “Eddie…” you sighed.

"what?" He said, moving his lips down your neck, following the same path that Steve had taken earlier, leaving bigger marks on your skin. He wanted everyone to know that you were his and no one else’s. 

He kissed your shoulder as he ran his hand up your thigh, past the hem of your skirt.

Noticing the lack of response, it's clear that teasing you was the boy's only option. “Did the cat get your tongue, sweetie?” His hands slowly felt your hips at the same time he pushed your legs apart with his knee and forced his leg between yours. He could feel how hot your pussy was from the heat that passed through his thigh “you seemed pretty brave when you were rubbing your ass against Stevie” he pressed his knee against your most sensitive part, gently brushing against your clit.

“I already told you Eddie, Steve and I are just friends” you said again, trying your best not to straddle your best friend’s thigh.

The boy finished taking off your shirt, exploring your breasts as he had done several other times. Eddie pinched and pulled your nipples, making the man feel you wet through your panties. He laughed in a mocking tone “look at you, you barely got off my best friend and you’re already here, all wet for me” his hands forced your movements, making you slowly ride his thigh “I saw your thighs pressing together, you know?” he said, increasing the intensity of the pace at which he guided you.

“Do you like being treated like a slut?” Eddie said taking you off his lap, in one movement he turned you around, face pressed against the old window covered in graffiti, it was too blurry to see you inside but depending on the angle you could see the people outside. “Did you like the feel of Steve’s dick rubbing against your ass?” he said as he pressed his own erection against you, making sure you felt every inch of him against the soft skin of your ass. “I know you liked it baby, there’s no need to be embarrassed” he patronizes you more and more.

With the panties around your ankle, Eddie adjusted your hips the way he wanted, brushing your entire pussy with the pink head of his cock.

"Are you sure?" he asked, without any malice or malice tone, you were already drunk on cock, just nodding your consent. “Words darling, use your words” “please Eddie, I need you” his voice came out more shrill than you wanted, showing his desperation.

In just one thrust, Eddie's entire cock slowly entered your tight pussy, “fuck…so thick” you moaned, not knowing if it was pain or pleasure, receiving sweet prayers from the man who filled you “shh…I know darling, It will soon be so delicious, I promise you” or “good girl, taking it all”, his words made you increasingly wet, making his back and forth movements easier.

“Fuck Eddie, more...I need more, please” you leaned against the window frame, managing to see Steve's confused features through the graffiti window, as he looked for you around the pool, not going unnoticed by Eddie either.

The man pushed into you harder and harder, your hands holding tight on the old wood making it shake. “Hmm… fucking tight, darling” he continued to fuck you, with one hand on your waist holding you in the position he needed and the other tangled in your hair, forcing you to look out the window, to look Steve.

"Eddie please" you begged, he could feel the adrenaline making his voice lower a few tones, every time Steve's eyes passed over you, Eddie could feel your pussy throb and squeeze his dick. “Make me cum Eds, please” you almost cried.

The large hand that held your head against the window ran down your entire body to where you needed it most. He fucked your pussy, changing the angle to hit your sweet spot while slowly massaging your citrices circularly, eliciting from you the most maddening moans Eddie had ever heard... "oh... Eddie I'm going to cum, fuck I'm going to cum " "fuck that pussy, please eddie" "Fill me, I want to feel you filling me Eddie", and Steve.

With his gaze fixed on his best friend, Eddie filled your pussy with his cum, not stopping pumping until the last drop of cum entered you. He helped you straighten up, bringing your back against his covered chest.

He kissed his neck while whispering how hot you were and how you were his and only his, leaving your breasts exposed against the window. His malicious smile began to make you suspicious of the boy's true intentions.

After a few minutes of recovering, you decided to get dressed again. Her panties on one side, her t-shirt rolled up on the floor and her skirt hanging from the window.

Your fingers pulled at the fabric of your skirt, revealing a large hole in the window where Steve stared at you and Eddie, while squeezing his erection through his pants. The boy's pink cheeks didn't bring you clarity, was that shame or lust?

Eddie’s hands went around you in a hug, resting his head on your shoulder “I told you he had a crush on you,” he kissed your cheek before walking away, opening the little door to the pool house “oh! Yeah and I'm sorry, I was really jealous." leaving you high and dry watching him go after his friend.

Taglist ~ dumblittlebunbun pettydonuts kerst666 emma77645 darknesseddiem tlclick73 the-fairy-anon mygirlchaos d4rk4ng3l86 corygshitilike madi-is-kinda-lame munsongirl97 alone-but-never themusingofagothicsoul foreveranexpatsposts anaibis laricebabe she-collects-smut chronicles-of-koystee

[navybrat817]

What Goes Around

Pairing: BFD/DBF!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky is your friend's dad and your dad's friend and nothing more. Until he isn't. Word Count: Over 6.2k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), semi-public sex, possessive behavior, dirty talk, light Daddy kink, age gap (reader is in early 20's and Bucky late 40's), arguing, light violence, swearing, conflicted reader (everything is consensual!), everyone is a mess, Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Woohoo! Stepped out of my comfort zone a bit on this and I'm so proud! Thank you to @sweeterthanthis , @dreamlessinparis , @buckyownsmylife, @targaryenvampireslayer , @christywantspizza , @sgt-seabass , @lookiamtrying for listening to me ramble about this. Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you as well), but any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated! ***Any soft!dark undertones are unintentional as everything is consensual.***

You met Bethany Barnes your freshman year of college. While some of the girls on your floor knew each other, you went off to university not knowing a soul and had to be assigned a roommate. Your nerves shot up when you walked into the shared room. Beth, as she preferred to be called, was intimidatingly beautiful. You hadn't met any supermodels, but she could've chosen that as her profession with her tall, slender build, long auburn hair, and sparkling blue eyes.

Your nervousness faded when she smiled and gave you a hug, after asking if it was okay.

"You're here!" she smiled more when she pulled away, looking over your shoulder at who you thought was your dad. "By the closet."

You weren't normally stunned silent by looking at a person, but that was what happened when you met James "Bucky" Barnes. With the beard and quiet confidence in which he carried himself, you would've mistaken him for a professor had it not been for the fact that he was in the dormitory. Call it instant attraction or lust, but you found yourself openly staring at the handsome man as he carried a box into the room. He gazed at you, too, or so you thought. Your mind may have been playing tricks on you.

"Dad, quit staring at my roommate. That's weird."

The needle on the record scratched. Her dad. You could see where she got her good looks. He was taller and broader, his hair dark brown instead of auburn, and eyes a deeper shade of blue. One of the hottest men to ever grace the earth, if anyone asked for your opinion.

It didn't matter how good looking he was. This was Beth's dad. It put him in the "look, but don't touch" column.

Your dad, Dave, appeared moments later and introduced himself. Bucky was kind enough to help him with the rest of your stuff and even offered to buy lunch. While he didn't look the least bit upset about leaving, it was clear your dad was having a tough time holding it together and even had tears in his eyes. You understood. It was the two of you for so long and now you were out the door.

Beth put a hand on his arm and gave him a small smile to ease his worries.

"Hey. Your daughter and I will look out for each other, okay? You have nothing to worry about. Plus, I think we're going to be good friends."

She was right.

To your surprise, you discovered that Beth only lived about an hour away from your hometown. Like you, Beth didn't know anyone, but she was friendly and welcoming. Definitely more outgoing than you would ever be. Her popularity grew quickly, but the two of you were there for each other like she promised. While you had lost your mother, hers took off when she was so young she couldn't even remember her face. Bucky did the best he could to raise her. Like your dad had done for you.

Maybe that was why they became such good friends, too.

The two of you traded off different weekends at each other's houses when you left campus and spent a few holidays together. You did a couple of summer trips with your dads doing their best not to be overbearing. Eventually Beth joined a sorority and moved into the chapter's house, so you no longer lived together. Bucky suggested that your dad move closer to his place when he decided to sell the house, that way everyone could still spend time together.

"You wouldn't mind, would you?" your dad asked at the time.

You didn't at the time. It still gave everyone a chance to hang out and your dad seemed to need it more than you. He admired Bucky for being self-made, having a nice house, and a good job. It was as if the man's confidence rubbed off on him. He began to dress better and get in shape. He mentioned possibly dating again, which you encouraged. Your dad deserved to be happy.

You couldn't have predicted it would all go to hell after graduation.

You nursed your wine as you sat at the bar, staring into the abyss of the liquid as you swirled it around. Maybe if you looked long enough, you'd forget about tonight. It should have been an evening of celebration for you. Nothing major, but it was something that meant the world to you.

"I think you need something stronger."

You stayed silent when you turned to your right, slightly surprised when you saw none other than Bucky take a seat beside you. The citrus scent of his cologne filled your nostrils when he moved his stool close enough that your knees touched. Up close, even with the dim bar lightning, you could see the gray hairs in his trimmed beard and perfectly coiffed brown hair. Of all the people you expected to see, he certainly wasn't one of them.

"What are you doing here?" you asked.

"I thought you could use a friend."

"Are we friends?" You asked softly.

Hurt flashed in his eyes, which filled you with guilt. "I thought we were."

You weren't sure if you would label Bucky as a friend, but you cared for the man. He had been good to you over the years, staying up with you and watching movies when you couldn't sleep or listening to you ramble on about your papers, internship, resume, while Beth pampered herself. He gave advice when you asked and listened when you only wanted to talk.

You didn't need to be rude to him.

"We are," you wanted to assure him and you felt a bit better when his shoulders relaxed. "How did you even know where to find me?"

"You rushed off before dinner started and you mentioned that you liked this place," he replied, like it was obvious. "We were supposed to be celebrating. We didn't get all dressed up for nothing," he teased, gesturing to himself and drawing your attention to his large body as you smiled a little.

Over the last few years, you got used to seeing different looks from him. Jeans and shirts tight enough to see the muscles underneath, sweatpants that hung low enough to let the imagination wander, swim trunks when you went on vacation, and even the occasional suit. He opted for a dark blue suit tonight that matched his eyes, but skipped the tie. It wasn't a look many could pull off and he did it with ease.

You blinked and shook your head, trying not to pay attention to how good he looked. Just because you were upset didn't mean you had a right to check him out. It was wrong to be attracted to him and you refused to acknowledge it. Mainly because he was one of your dad's best friends and one of your best friend's dads.

No, she's not my best friend. Not anymore.

“We even kind of match,” he smiled to himself.

You glanced down at your short, sleeveless dress. It wasn’t revealing or flashy, but you felt beautiful in it. The shade of blue was close to his suit. Part of you felt silly for dressing up for a simple dinner.

"I guess we do," you said softly, looking at your glass again.

“Surprised the boys aren’t lining up for a chance with you,” he said.

You snorted, thankful you didn’t take a sip of your wine. You would’ve spit it out. “The boys have never lined up for me, but it’s okay. I’m used to it.”

Boys usually talked to you to get closer to Beth.

“Their loss,” Bucky said sincerely as he held up a couple of fingers for the bartender.

“And we have nothing to celebrate,” you said, not wanting to dwell on your sad dating history.

"Bullshit," he said, ordering two shots of whiskey and setting some money on the counter once the bartender came over. "You got a job at Stark Industries. I'm proud of you."

Your cheeks heated at the praise. "Thank you," you said, sparing him a glance when he passed you a glass. "I already have a drink.”

“And I said it isn’t strong enough,” he hesitated as he picked up his own. “Beth said you weren’t much of a drinker. Not even on your 21st birthday. You were a good girl, weren’t you?”

You were conflicted as you listened. Did Bucky mean for that to be an innuendo? You chose to focus on Beth instead, and how angry you felt. How many nights did you hold her hair back while she puked?

“You're right. We should celebrate."

Bucky gave you a worried look as you picked up your drink.

Your cheeks ached from your wide smile. "To my dad and your daughter fucking each other. Cheers!"

You might as well address the elephant in the room since he wouldn't.

He frowned when you downed the shot, the burn spreading from the back of your throat to your chest. You half expected him to see a clench in his jaw or an embarrassed blush in his cheeks, but he merely threw his drink back and slammed the glass down when he finished. "You sure you don't want to do another toast? I don't think the entire bar heard you."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to make a scene. I did that already, remember?"

You hadn't seen Beth in months since you graduated. Neither of you landed dream jobs right away, but you did find temporary work to help cover the rent for your new place. You wanted to be independent and your dad supported you. But your friend hadn’t even seen your place.

Any time you reached out to meet up, she made an excuse why she couldn't join you or bailed at the last minute if she agreed. At first, you didn't take any offense. You figured she met a guy. She got like that sometimes over boys, but she had never gone that long without hanging out with you.

Maybe she had outgrown you after college.

Your dad sensed that you missed Beth and assured you that you'd see her soon. He planned a special dinner to celebrate you getting a job at Stark Industries. Beth promised she wouldn't miss it. You thought it was strange how easily she accepted your dad's invitation, but you discovered quickly that she wasn't there for you in the first place.

"Sweetie," your dad began as he slipped an arm around Beth's waist. "We have something we want to talk to you about. Beth and I are, well, we're seeing each other. Now I know that may be difficult to hear, especially since I haven't seen anyone serious since your mother, but…"

Your dad used to describe you as amicable and well-behaved when someone asked him about his daughter. No matter what life threw your way, you did your best to be friendly and stay out of trouble. It could have been before your mother was always kind and you did your best to follow in her footsteps. It often meant putting the needs of others before your own, but it never bothered you.

Until tonight.

Until you saw the ring on Beth's finger.

Beth, the girl who flashed boys from her sorority house window and blew off studying. The same girl who cried with you on the anniversary of your mom's death. She was going to marry your dad.

A slow moving storm began to swirl in your mind. You managed to hear your dad say that they began seeing each other the night of graduation and promised it wasn't sooner. It explained why Beth had blown you off all that time. They were trying to figure out how to tell you, but all they did was lie.

Outrage was a foreign feeling to you and you didn't know how to channel it. Were you supposed to scream? Cry? All you knew was that it clawed at your insides until it broke free.

Whatever you yelled was enough to make your dad step back in shock and Beth grab your arm to drag you outside. The porch light illuminated her enough to see the anger etched on her face. You didn't even recognize her.

"What the fuck? You've been fucking my dad?!" you yelled, snatching your arm back from her.

"Yeah, I'm fucking your dad!" she yelled back.

"How did this even happen?!" you demanded to know, immediately regretting asking a second later.

"After your graduation dinner, we were drinking and I said I always thought he was hot and-"

"God, stop!" you shrieked, covering your ears until her mouth stopped moving. "So, you two have been sneaking around behind my back and lying to me for months?!"

"We had to because we knew you'd lose your shit! I knew you wouldn’t be mature about this!"

You trembled as you took a step back. You weren't used to yelling or being yelled at. There were times that you and Beth bickered, but it was nothing like this.

And, of course, you'd lose your shit. What did she honestly expect? Was she the real reason your dad began to take better care of himself over the years?

"Why?" You asked almost timidly, a contrast to how you shouted moments ago. "I don't want to sound cliché, but you can have anyone you want. Why him?"

"Because I want him," she said unapologetically.

Beth, in the time you knew her, was never afraid to go after what or who she wanted. She also went all in with guys. She didn't believe in doing it half-ass. But your dad was far from her type, the opposite of the fuckboys she typically dated.

"My dad isn't one of those stupid boys who does lines of coke off your ass. He's a good man."

"I know he's a good man. That's why I'm marrying him," she snapped, holding up her hand for you to see the ring again. It was beautiful. If you had to guess, it was also expensive. "We just want your support."

You wondered what it would be like at times to have a stepmom. Whenever you envisioned it, your best friend never came to mind. Your dad had to be going through a midlife crisis. God, what would your mom say if she was alive? What did Bucky have to say?

"You're half his age!" you argued, the anger starting to surface again as you stepped forward and smacked her hand away. "What do you two possibly have in common?"

"A lot, actually," she said, clutching her hand against her chest. "You never had a problem with your dad and I hanging out in all the years we've been friends. And you wouldn't give a shit about his age if this was any other guy."

"But this isn't just any guy! This is my dad!" you argued, pleading with her to understand as your vision blurred. Didn’t she realize how awkward it was? What if they ended things? "And you're my best friend."

Beth bit her lip at the sight of your tears. "Your dad and I care about each other, okay? We deserve to be happy. And I care about you, too, but I'm not letting him go. I refuse to be like you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" you demanded when you watched the sympathy leave her eyes.

When backed into a corner, Beth lashed out like an animal. Anyone who got too close got hurt. Unlucky for you, you knew you were about to be on the receiving end of her wrath.

"You spent all four years of college studying and being nice instead of living. You only had fun when I made it happen. You hardly dated. You're lucky you even got laid at all," she said, digging into your insecurities. It was tough for guys to look at you when Beth stood beside you. It made you wonder how long she felt this way about you. "Deep down, you’re just a fucking coward. Unlike you, I have the balls to go after what I want, so that's what I did. You should find a pair and do the same."

Your hand connected with Beth's cheek before you could stop yourself. Like a scene out of a movie, your dad opened the door in time for him to witness the slap. But it wasn't his hand that gripped your shoulder to pull you away.

It was Bucky’s.

Your hand stung as Beth dissolved into tears in your dad's arms. He looked disappointed in you and said as much as you tried to say something. You waited for Bucky to snap at you for hitting his daughter, but he stayed eerily silent as he looked at your hand.

Did he hate you now?

"I'm sorry," you whispered, pulling away before he could say a word.

You ducked inside long enough to grab your purse and take off before any of them could stop you. It was a coward's way out. Maybe Beth was right about you, after all.

"You didn't cause a scene," Bucky said, ordering you both another drink. "That being said, I didn't hear most of the argument, but I did see you hit Beth."

You winced a little and rubbed your palm against your thigh. It was the first time you ever hit someone. "I'm sorry for slapping her."

"Don't be. She deserved it," he said under his breath.

You didn't expect him to say that.

"Your dad is worried, you know," he said, surprising you again. "Said you aren't answering his calls."

"No, I'm not. I don't know what to say to him," you admitted, finally taking out your phone to glance at it. You had missed calls and texts from your dad and Beth, but you refused to listen to the voicemails or look at the messages. "I don't get it."

"What do you not get?" He asked curiously when you finally took your drink.

"Them," you said, allowing the alcohol to burn your throat again. "I don't get them together. Beth isn't. Well, she's not…"

"Your mother?" he guessed.

You looked in your lap with a sigh.

"No, she isn't, but maybe that isn't a bad thing. She won't try to be your mom. Just a partner to your dad," he said. Was your dad someone who could ground her? Was she someone who could make him feel younger? "They're consenting adults. And your dad is lonely. Has been for years."

It sounded like he was trying to placate you, but something in his voice kept you from calling him out. You knew your dad was lonely. Beth said something similar about Bucky.

"I think Beth is bringing him out of his shell," Bucky gently added.

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve hardly seen them in months,” you mumbled.

“They should’ve made time for you,” he said, putting his hand over yours. You didn’t dwell on how nice his touch felt since he pulled away just as quickly. “I should have, too. I’ve missed seeing you around the place.”

It wasn’t his job to make time for you.

“You’ve missed me?” you questioned, warmth spreading in your face as he smiled. It was nice to hear that. “I’ve missed you, too.”

“Though I have a feeling you won't want to stop by as much now to see me.”

"If I don't, it has nothing to do with you," you said.

"Sure," he smiled a little.

You examined him with a critical eye, trying to decipher what was going on in his head. Wouldn't it be awkward for him, too? Where was his anger at the situation? Was he hiding it?

"Why are you not upset? She's your daughter."

He gave you a wistful smile and had his drink. A drop of liquid stayed on his lip and you were tempted to wipe it away. Or lick it away. You couldn't act on those urges, especially after the way you went off on Beth. It would be hypocritical.

"Just because I’m not letting it show doesn’t mean I’m not upset. Truth is, I can’t control what Beth does. She stopped listening to me a long time ago. And if I tried to force her to let Dave go, it would make her want him more," he explained, his jaw twitching. "I had a few choice words for him since he kept it from you."

"Wait," you swung in your chair and almost landed in his lap. His hands gripped your arms to steady you, but he didn't let go. "Because he kept it from me? Not you?"

Bucky gave you a single nod, making your heart crack.

"So you knew?" you asked, sadness bubbling up this time instead of anger.

"I did. I’m sorry."

Why would they tell Bucky and not you? Did they expect him to be more mature? Was he the lesser of the two evils or worse?

“How long have you known?” you asked, moving off the stool with his help. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

“I’ve only known about their relationship for a couple of weeks,” he answered, trying to stop you when you put your phone in your bag. No wonder he wasn’t as upset. He had time to process the news. “Look, it wasn’t my place. You had enough on your mind with job interviews and I was-”

“You were what? Trying to protect me?”

“In a way, yeah,” he said, making you take a step back when he stood up. “I know how my daughter can be, but I didn’t expect them to pick your celebration dinner to tell you.”

“Tonight wasn’t about me,” you said with a bitter laugh. “It was never meant to be about me.”

Age gap and weirdness aside, you didn't want to say out loud that you felt pushed out. Your dad and Beth would be wrapped up in each other from now on. They already were. How would Beth be able to talk to you about romantic issues when those very issues involved your dad? Would your father make time for you? What if they decided to have a kid?

Were you wrong for thinking of yourself instead of being happy for them?

“Come here,” he whispered, embracing you in a comforting hug.

You were close to bursting into tears, shutting your eyes to keep them at bay. What were you supposed to do with the emotions you were feeling? And why did it feel so good to be in his arms?

“I don’t want to be mad at him,” you whispered.

“You won’t be mad at him forever. He’s your father,” he said, leaning in close so his lips brushed your ear. “But he isn’t your daddy, is he?”

Your eyes slowly opened at his words.

“You want me to be your daddy?”

You nearly stumbled back, your eyes wide as you looked at him. There was no playfulness in his gaze. Nothing to give away that it was a joke. You heard him wrong or imagined that because there was no way he would ask you that. Maybe those couple of shots got to you quicker than you thought.

“What did you say?” you asked.

“You heard what I said,” he said evenly.

You laughed as you backed away more. It had to be a joke and you weren’t in the mood for games. So why wasn’t he laughing with you?

“Whatever that was, I-I can’t process this right now. I need air. I need to go home.”

“You’ve been drinking,” Bucky pointed out as you began to walk to the side door. “I can take you. Let me take care of you.

“You’ve been drinking, too,” you said over your shoulder. “I’ll call a cab.”

“Wait!”

You pushed the door open and welcomed the cool air as you walked down the alley. It didn’t bother you since the alcohol warmed you a bit. It was dark, except for the glow of the neon lights. The perfect cover to hide your oncoming tears.

You turned around when you heard footsteps behind you, but didn’t speak when you saw Bucky a few feet away. What would you say to him? It was difficult to think with him watching you, the air thick with tension. The longer his gaze lingered on you, the harder it was to breathe. If he noticed your hand shaking when you wiped at your eyes, he didn't point it out.

Such a gentleman.

"You're not going home until you talk to me," he said, taking another step toward you.

"You can't keep me out here all night. There. I spoke to you."

"That isn't what I meant and you know it. You're pissed about everything, I get it, but don't act like I'm the bad guy here."

"You're not the good guy either," you snapped, pointing back at the bar. “What the hell was that in there? Asking to be my daddy?”

“You know how relieved Dave was that I didn’t beat the shit out of him over Beth? Or that I didn’t push him away as a friend? You know why I didn’t?” he asked, avoiding your question. “Because I’d be a fucking hypocrite.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’ve wanted you since I walked into your dorm room your freshman year.”

The air rushed out of your lungs. A man who is practically sex on legs wanted you. Someone off limits and you could never have.

“Beth never wanted a stepmom and the women I dated didn’t want a bratty daughter. I almost gave up on dating and then I saw you. You were right in front of me and I couldn’t have you because you were half my age and living with my daughter,” he explained.

You thought back over the years, searching for signs in the memories that he wanted you. The late, quiet nights together. His interests in your studies. How he used to joke with your dad that the reason you didn’t date much was because the boys weren’t good enough for you.

“Been almost five years and I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve tried to be good. What’s stopping us now?”

“I. That’s not. We.” Why couldn’t you form a coherent sentence? “You’re a good man and a good looking man, but you’re Beth’s dad.”

Bucky’s bitter laugh chilled you more than the cool air.

“So, you’re going to pretend that you don’t want me? That you haven’t wanted me all these years and I’ve just imagined the looks and want between us?” he demanded, every bit the confident man you grew used to seeing. “Say you don’t want me and we’ll forget this whole thing.”

You couldn’t say that.

“Say I do want you,” you said carefully. “We just can’t.”

You backed up when he strode forward and wrapped his hand around your wrist. The touch was gentler than you expected as he turned and backed you against the wall, your bag unceremoniously falling to the ground. You were forced to look at him when he gripped your chin, pressing his body closer to yours. His eyes flickered between your gaze and trembling mouth and you wondered if he heard how fast your heart pounded.

Were his eyes always such a dark shade of blue or did you ignore the lust hidden beneath the surface?

"Why can’t we, hmm?" he asked, firmly keeping your head in place when you tried to avert your gaze. "Is it because you’re scared? You don’t have to be.”

You were scared as hell. Bucky is a man. Experienced.

"Aren't you tired of being good? I know I am."

You thought back to Beth’s previous words. How she had the balls to go after what she wanted and you needed to do the same. What better time to start than now?

You pressed your lips against his and it didn’t take him long for his tongue to slip in, tasting the whiskey as he devoured you. He moaned when your hands moved down his torso, allowing you to divulge in the thing you both denied yourselves. Some twisted part of you mourned what you could’ve had for months had you simply stopped being a good girl.

Were you truly good to begin with?

The line of his hard cock pressed against you as he rocked his hips and kissed down your neck. “This isn’t how I pictured it, but I can’t fucking wait.”

“How did you picture it?” you whimpered, rolling your hips back against his.

“I’d rather show you later,” he whispered, lightly biting down. It wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, but enough that pain and pleasure lingered. “You have no idea what I’m going to do to you.”

He moved away enough to push your dress up around your hips, shocking you when he tore your panties off. Tucking the ruined fabric into his pants pocket, he slipped his hand back between your thighs. His fingers were cool against your slick folds and you shamelessly writhed, needing everything he was willing to give you.

“Did you touch yourself at night wishing I’d show up and fuck your pretty pussy until you cried for me? Hmm?” He said, kissing you again as you whined. The light scratch of his beard made you shiver as he nipped your bottom lip. “Tell me you want my cock.”

Your head spun at his demand. You weren’t a virgin, but the guys you had been with before weren’t big on dirty talk. Unless they talked about how amazing their cocks were.

They weren’t.

“I want your cock,” you whined against his lips, desperate for him.

You wanted him to fill you up until you were sore, aching, and forgot why you were so upset in the first place.

“I’ll give it to you,” he promised.

Your fingers twisted in his shirt when he slid his fingers into your wet slit. You couldn’t recall a time in your life you felt this hot and slick. And feeling one finger push inside, you were sure this was nothing more than an erotic, dirty dream.

“Fuck, you’re tight. And you’re gonna let me fuck you against this wall, aren’t you?” he asked as you nodded. “Dirty girl. My dirty girl now.”

His finger twisted as he added another and you nearly smacked your head against the wall, but his other hand came up to soften the blow. “Bucky,” you gasped.

“I don’t know if you really want my cock,” he teased, moving his long fingers deep. “Might need to hear it one more time.”

As if you weren’t practically riding the thick digits at this point and moaning in the dark alleyway, he really needed to hear you say it again? The squelching sound of your pussy wasn’t loud enough? But your body liked his teasing. Loved his demands.

“Please, I need your cock. Please, Bucky. Please.” you begged, almost sobbing when he took his fingers out.

“But you said we can't do this. Isn't that what you said?” he asked.

When you opened your mouth to answer, he pushed his wet fingers inside.

“Taste yourself and try to say you don't want me. I dare you,” he whispered, wiping some of the bittersweet juices on your tongue. His fingers slipped free as you gaped at him, watching as he licked the remainder with a groan. “Even sweeter than I imagined.”

The sound of him unbuckling his belt snapped you out of your stupor. “Bucky, I’m-”

“On the pill and clean. I know,” he cut you off as he took his cock out and stroked himself. “I need to fill you up, pretty girl. Need to make you mine, the way I should’ve a long time ago.”

You struggled to keep yourself upright as he guided himself between your legs, holding your hip steady when he pushed the head in. You weren’t nearly stretched enough to take him, but your greedy pussy didn’t care as he slipped in inch by inch. You moaned as he kept pushing until he was fully sheathed inside you. You had never felt so full and likely never would again.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pressing his forehead against yours as your walls pulsed around him.

In the dark place in the back of your mind you kept locked away, you wondered how he looked and sounded when he was pleased. If he gasped when he came or if his eyes rolled back. You were going to find out though, weren’t you?

You cried out when he thrust, one hand moving up to grip his hair. The quick, hard motions felt as desperate as you did inside. You didn’t care if it was fast or dirty. You were tired of being clean. This wasn’t tender or making love. It wasn’t soft touches and kisses to your breasts or slowly building you up.

It was Bucky Barnes fucking you against an alley wall.

“Fuck, are you always this wet or is it just for me?” he asked in awe, pulling one of your legs around his hip to shove his cock in deeper. “Do I have to chase anyone else off?”

You didn’t hear the words as you cried out. It felt so good to be taken like this. The rage, hurt, confusion, all of it molded into ecstasy. You never wanted it to end.

A light smack to your thigh pulled you back to the present.

“Tell. Me. You’re. Mine.” The gravel in his voice grew with each punctuated thrust.

“I’m yours,” you moaned, helpless to the onslaught and uncaring of the implication in the moment.

Your response encouraged him to move faster, kissing you deeply with a groan. His thrusts became almost punishing, like he had to feel you let go so he could come. It wouldn’t take much more with your orgasm building the way it was. You’d be surprised if his cock wasn’t coated in your wetness once you came.

“I-I’m gonna…” you trailed off.

“I know, pretty girl,” he grunted, gripping your chin again. “Be good and come for Daddy.”

Your body seized up before you exploded with pleasure. You struggled to hold yourself up as you trembled with bliss, your vision going white from the intensity. It was so much at once and you thought you might sob from how good it felt.

“Good girl. My good fucking girl,” he encouraged as he fucked you through it, the obscene sounds drowning out your whimpers. He tipped over the edge after a few more thrusts, coating your wet walls. “Fuck, take it.”

He managed to hold you up as he finished, panting as his head fell back. Your grip on his jacket loosened as the reality of the situation sank in, like a bucket of cold water being washed over you. Why did pleasure have to be short lived?

You fucked Bucky. You let Bucky fuck you. How could you cross that line? Just because Beth and your dad had done so, why did you think you could?

God, what were you going to tell them? That you were the biggest hypocrite alive? That you were no better than they were?

What goes around, comes around.

“Hey,” he whispered when he lifted his head, both of you still breathing heavily. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“It’s not okay,” you whispered as he pulled out of you, your mixed release dripping down your thighs. You covered your face as he fixed your dress and himself. “Oh, my god.”

You flinched and dropped your hands when he pulled you away from the wall. His expression was unreadable as he shrugged his jacket off and slipped it over your shoulders. “It’s okay,” he said again.

“W-We can’t do that again,” you whispered as he bent down to retrieve your bag.

"Why not?" he asked, picking up some of the contents that fell out before he stood up.

"Because we can't," you said with no strength behind your words.

“We’re doing this again. You can’t avoid me or this,” he said, pointing between the two of you.

“Your daughter is marrying my dad. This whole thing is fucked up and-”

“And I said I'm tired of being good. I’m fucking tired of denying myself the chance to be happy,” he said firmly as he got in your face. “So are you. I know it."

You pulled the jacket tighter around you, not backing away as he stared at you. Did you shake from the sudden cold, your orgasm, or from the thought that he wasn’t about to let you go?

His gaze softened before he kissed your forehead. “Let’s get a cab and I’ll take you home. We can talk about it once you’ve rested.”

You let him take your hand, your feet moving on their own accord to follow him to the end of the alley. “I can get home on my own.”

You needed to be alone so you could figure out what to do about everything.

“You said you’re mine, didn’t you?” he said, smiling when you stopped. “And what kind of Daddy would I be if I didn’t take care of you?”

Would love to explore more of this new pairing. 😏 Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi