#why would I stress about this mans approval? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sttoru · 1 year ago

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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. coming home from university has both stressed and tired you out — causing you to forget about satoru’s birthday. maybe your boyfriend could help you remember.

word count. 4.7k-ish

note. was supposed to come out on his (our) bday but writer’s block was ruthless :p hope you enjoy anyway x

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x sub!female reader. p.orn with plot. fluff to smut. age gap (reader 20 - early 20’s, satoru’s in his early 30’s). p in v -> unprotected, size difference, missionary, creampie, breast play, dirty talk, body worship, hickeys, praise, you f.uck in the kitchen, aftercare-ish, reader gets called ‘princess, sweetheart, baby, pretty.’ i present to you soft dom&older bf!gojo satoru. he’s absolutely smitten with you btw.

“lookin’ tired, sweetheart.” satoru comments with a subtle grin as he welcomes you home. home being his apartment that you had basically moved into. why? because it was close to the university you attend.

and maybe because your lover had coaxed you into it.

you sigh, eyes half closed and glazed over. the stress of exams, assignments and whatnot has been too much for your brain, “yeah, i’m sorry. i probably look like absolute shi—”

a pair of lips were quick to shut your negative remark up. satoru pulls you closer to him by the small of your back. his fluffy bangs brush over his closed eyes, the hairs lightly grazing your forehead as well. he smells and tastes sweet. like those strawberry flavoured candies he always carries with him in his pockets.

a faint string of saliva hanging between your two mouths was all that’s left after the intense kiss. it snaps, causing the small bit of liquid to cling onto your bottom lip.

“what’d i say about apologising when you did absolutely nothing wrong?” satoru asks in a gentle and hushed tone. his thumb presses down on your bottom lip to get rid of the transparent trail of saliva. his gaze is soft and loving — like it always is when he looks at you.

that man had once again rendered you speechless. it’s the small things that make you fall for him over and over, “that—uhm—i shouldn’t apologise for something i don’t have any control over.”

satoru’s dimples show as he looks down at you fondly. a large hand settles on the top of your head, messing up your hair whilst his lips lock yours in for another kiss.

“exactly,” your lover nods in approval before grabbing your bag and placing it aside. he also helps you take off your coat and even bends down to undo your shoes for you.

you wonder how you’ve even managed to land such a man.

satoru’s long fingers work quick to undo the laces on your shoes. your tired eyes can’t help but steal a glance at the veins that run down his slender hands — up his forearms and. . .

“somethin’ on your mind, princess?” his voice calls out as he massages your feet for a split second to ease the accumulated tension from all the walking. you simply shake your head ‘no’, though satoru knows you better than you know yourself.

with a light-hearted chuckle, he raises to his full length and leads you through the hallway. his footsteps were light whilst yours were the exact opposite: heavy and exhausted.

maybe a shower or bath would help you refresh and relax. thus, that’s exactly what the sorcerer recommends;

“why don’t you go take a nice shower whilst i prepare you a hot meal, hm?” satoru comments and stops in his tracks right before the door to the bathroom. his gaze lingers on your pretty face—his hands never leaving your skin.

the idea of taking a shower did seem like the ideal solution to your problems at the moment, “okay i will, but err. . .”

your voice trails off as you look up at satoru. his knuckles run over your cheeks lovingly and his warm gaze tells you that he’s smitten with you. totally. utterly. he makes you so nervous without even realising it in the slightest.

“you don’t have to cook me something. i know work has been hard on you too.” you finish your sentence with an apologetic little smile. one that makes satoru want to squeeze your cheeks together.

you had always been a bit selfless and it’s an admirable trait, but your boyfriend also has this gnawing urge to take care of you in any way he can. maybe it’s because he’s a few years older than you and knows from experience how tough things could get at your age.

satoru smirks and pokes your sides playfully, “don’t you worry your pretty little head ‘bout that. now let’s get you in that shower.”

a little yelp leaves your throat as you feel yourself get hoisted over his shoulder. the white-haired sorcerer opens the door with one hand, the other protectively placed on your waist to keep you from falling.

he settles you back on your feet in the middle of the room—eyes now filled with a playful glint. you could probably already guess the next words that leave his mouth.

“need help undressing? i’ll gladly do it for you,” satoru laughs. you roll your eyes and teasingly shove him towards the door. he puts his hands in the air to show his surrender, though doesn’t miss the opportunity to look you over one last time.

you’re like the embodiment of beauty even when your eyes have lost their usual spark. even if you barely have any energy left to do anything. he loves every side of you, no matter what.

resisting the urge to pull you into his arms for the nth time, your boyfriend eventually leaves you be and closes the door as he steps out. his mind, however, was still overly full with thoughts of you.

“ah, what a woman.” satoru mutters in pure amazement under his breath after departing from the bathroom. there’s a visible spring in his step as he walks to the kitchen—happy to take care of his girl.

. . .

you finish your much needed bath after about half an hour. you look in the bathroom mirror whilst wrapping a simple white towel around your torso. the bath sure did help to clear your mind, though there’s still one thing bothering you. something you’ve forgotten.

you can’t really put your finger on it, but it must have been something important. there’s an iffy feeling in your chest as you walk out of the bathroom — instantly heading towards the kitchen. surely, satoru could help you remember it.

“toru,” you call out before stepping into the kitchen. your lover is standing at the counter, his back towards you and his hands working fast to chop up some vegetables. the many pans and stoves scattered around the area only further prove his determination to prepare you a nice hot meal.

“yeah, princ— oh.” satoru eventually turns his head, looking over his shoulder to see you standing a few steps behind him. he couldn’t believe his luck; to have his gorgeous, gorgeous girlfriend in his apartment was one thing—but having his girlfriend in front of him with only a towel on was another thing. the remaining waterdroplets running down your skin made you all the more attractive.

he grins as he puts the knife down and quickly dries his hands. he couldn’t wait to put his hands on your body, “c’mere, pretty.”

you grunt the moment satoru envelopes you into a tight hug with your face squished into his chest. he nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head—over dramatically acting as if he hasn’t seen you for days.

his hands teasingly find their way under the material of the towel. the tips of his fingers are cold in comparison to your warm and damp skin. he drags the pad of his thumb up and down the curve of your ass; sighing in content as he feels the plush flesh.

“perv.” you mutter under your breath, though can’t deny that the light touch makes you putty in his hands. satoru responds with his usual ‘only when it comes to you’ comment before pulling away to take in your embarrassed expression. he lives for those physical reactions you have to his advances.

you slightly turn your head to the right, purposely avoiding his gaze. you face the door of the fridge that you stood in front of. your eyes fall onto the sticky notes. there’s one standing out from all the others.

you had placed it on there a few weeks ago so you wouldn’t accidentally forget that oh-so-important date.

turns out you did just that.

your face drops and you instantly go into panic mode. how could you fail to recall that today is satoru’s birthday? you don’t even know how to explain yourself. no amount of excuses would ever make this right. or so you thought.

satoru is an attentive lover; he is aware of almost everything that’s going on in your head. perhaps he is good at reading minds. or perhaps it’s just that your body language and facial expressions disclose everything he needs to know about your current mood.

“hey, i’m not upset.” satoru breathes out, eyes closed as he slides ticklish kisses down your neck. it is a sign of reassurance; he doesn’t want you to conclude that he’s angry with you for forgetting such a thing. besides, he understands that being an university student is a struggle by itself, “having you here with me at the end of the day ‘s all that matters to me, okay?”

you sigh, both in frustration and content. you’re frustrated with yourself for being too caught up with your studies, though you’re also appreciative for satoru’s empathy and lenience. he is so kind and mature; always optimistic about everything. your mindset is the opposite of his. your age gap sure did explain those cognitive differences.

despite satoru’s consolation, you still feel like you owe him something. you tilt your head back so you’re able to look him in the eyes. you give him the cutest pout ever and that man is—once again—feeling light-headed. satoru can’t decide whether to continue consoling you or to tease you about forgetting his birthday.

you are adorable when you sulk.

“i’m still.. well, sorry.” you sniffle, cuddling up to your lover to show your genuine remorse, “i know that you wouldn’t ever forget about my birthday - no matter how busy you might. . . .”

blahblahblah. you are babbling on and on about how inappropriate it is of you to forget his birthday, but satoru is hearing none of that.

his coherent thoughts shut down the moment he felt your tits press up against his chest. it is meant as an innocent hug on your part, however apparently couldn’t be interpreted as one.

your visible cleavage and the way the towel is doing a bad job at hiding the volume of your breasts increases the lewd thoughts gathering in his mind. there is no way that he can survive any more physical contact between you two without taking some action.

“..so, i was thinking that i could make it up to you somehow.” you conclude at one point in the conversation. satoru’s body subtly jolts as he snaps out of his dazed state.

he gives you a sheepish smile and tries to play it off by continuing the conversation, “make it up to me, huh?”

you nod in response and give him your best puppy eyes. your lover sighs in defeat; satoru couldn’t keep his emotions and carnal desires in check anymore. his hands are twitching, aching and longing to touch you all over.

the rational part of his mind told him to continue comforting you. to tell you that there was no need to compensate for failing to remember his birthday. the lust-driven part of him craves to take you up on the offer and give a different and more sexual twist to it.

satoru takes a deep breath and puts some distance between you two. not because he is annoyed or irritated by your behaviour, but because he might lose control of himself.

you can’t guess the intentions behind your lover’s actions, thus confusion follows; “satoru? you okay?”

maybe he actually is displeased by your lack of remembrance—deep, deep inside. you bite your lip anxiously, reaching your hand out to hold satoru’s in attempt to try and get him to look at you. his vision is obstructed by his own bangs, a dark shadow casted over his eyes, one that prevents you from gauging his mood.

you feel a light electric shock go through your body the instant your fingers curled around his hand. your boyfriend’s body stiffens and it’s like time stilled.

“fuck, i tried.” satoru mutters under his breath.

then, before you knew what was happening, you’re pinned to the door of the fridge. there are efforts made to articulate proper words, but the shock has overtaken all your senses. it isn’t like you could speak either—your lips are sealed shut by your lover’s.

his hands didn’t waste a single second now that they have free rein. they fondle you everywhere; from cupping your cheeks, to sliding down your neck and lower. his fingers rub up against the area where your nipples would be, sensually stroking them through the towel. his feverish kisses combined with his constant touches make you shiver in exhilaration.

you’re trying to keep up with his sudden burst of lust and that’s adorable to the white-haired sorcerer. he can feel you struggling to keep yourself balanced on your toes, your arms wrap tightly around his neck so you’d be inseparable. you feel him grin against your lips for a split second—the gesture alerting you of what might be coming.

“mmh,” satoru grunts once he frees your bare body from its confines. he finally breaks the kiss—the sole reason being to admire the sight of you.

it feels like he just unveiled a heavenly painting. his eyes don’t know what to focus on. if he is to properly and completely appreciate your nude body, it’d take him days or even weeks, “god, have i ever told you how lucky i am to be yours?��

your heart stutters in your chest as all attention is on you. the gentle yet hungry touch of your lover, his hands caressing everywhere they can reach and his half-lidded eyes that are focused on your most intimate parts—you don’t know how much more you can take.

satoru’s breathing becomes even heavier than it was moments ago. he leans his head down to your level, lips hovering above the space between your neck and shoulder. his mouth latches onto your skin after taking a moment to try and keep himself from rushing into things. but alas, he is a simple man.

his lips work precisely and diligently to leave hickeys on every inch. his teeth gently sink into your flesh here and there, his warm saliva coating the faint markings left. your body is his canvas for tonight and the many other nights that are yet to come — for as long as you give him permission to.

“ngh— t.. toru,” you stammer, almost squealing. the sloppy kisses left on your sensitive skin resulted in you whining for more. satoru feels a rush of satisfaction like no other; the frequency of his touches only increasing with each sound erupting from your throat. his tongue slides over your plump breasts, his fingers flicking the nipple he isn’t sucking on.

he eventually detaches from your tits, leaving them both covered in his saliva. he hums in delight at the erotic view and gives both your breasts a last kiss. satoru looks up into your eyes again—a sense of want in them, “you look like you have somethin’ to say, baby.”

you do, but, don’t know how to bring the message across. it is embarrassing to say all of your thoughts out loud; all that you actually want him to do that you. you know satoru would love it if you do, however you do not have the guts to.

your body does all the talking anyway. there is a pool of slick forming between your thighs, your bodily fluids showing just how aroused you are. you aren’t the only one in that state; satoru has had a raging hard-on the entire time.

“i want you,” there it goes.

you avert your eyes, though not for long. gentle fingers hold your chin up, forcing you to stare at your lover. his face is intensely close and your heart is in your throat. satoru grins at your shy behaviour, finding it all the more endearing.

“awh, my little princess wants me?” he pouts, almost mockingly if you didn’t know better. his gaze flickers downwards, “where d’ya want me? show me, baby.”

if you aren’t embarrassed already, you’d sure be now. satoru’s teasing words and the sultry tone of voice he uses eventually urges you to comply. your shaky fingers wrap around his wrist, bringing his hand down towards your tingling cunt, “here.”

the older man hisses at the direct contact his hand makes with your pussy. it is so wet and ready — he wanted nothing more than to bury his fat cock between your folds and feel your sweet little cunt cling onto it.

he cups your cunt delicately, grazing his thumb against your clit. he traces faint circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves to make you squirm and whimper in pleasure. his other fingers spread your folds apart so he can collect your wetness on them.

“how naughty,” satoru sighs. his index finger prods at your entrance, but your thighs clamp down around his hand before he’s able to push it in.

he snickers in amusement and retracts his hand. he licks your juices off of his long fingers in a painfully slow manner, “well.. who am i to deny you? what the princess says, goes.”

satoru lifts your body up in his arms, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist. he kisses you passionately again—his tongue swirling around yours. you exchange soft moans as your hands lift his shirt up and over his head.

you cut the kiss short to appreciate the sight of your lover’s well-built upper body. that drives him utterly insane. that look you give him.

satoru curses under his breath and pulls you down onto the carpet below. he carefully places you on your back and—once you are settled—instantly rushes to undo his grey sweatpants.

his eyes are darting from his clothes to your naked body under him. god, he wants to fuck you so bad. the view of you spread out and patiently waiting for him to take you had him weak in the knees. it’s a sinful scene, yet the pleading and almost innocent-like look in your eyes is a complete contrast.

“don’t worry, i’ll give it to you in a second, baby.” satoru grins once he pulls his boxers down to his knees—revealing his hardened cock. he strokes it slowly and the pre-cum drips down the shaft, his thumb smearing the droplets all over his pink tip.

after getting a couple strokes in, he grabs the base of his dick and guides it to your wet cunt. satoru rubs his tip up and down your slit. what he didn’t expect is for his cockhead to slide into you so easily. he didn’t even have to put in the slightest of effort.

your back arches due to the feeling and your nails dig into the carpet below you. the mixture of your slick and his pre-cum is all the lubricant you need.

“shit. seems like she doesn’t wanna let go any time soon.” satoru addresses your cunt with a groan whilst he slips his fat cock deeper into you. his eyes roll back as he feels the warmth of your pussy engulfing him, “. . .not like i was planning to leave her empty anyway.”

you moan and shiver at both satoru’s dirty words and his dick that’s currently stuffing your insides full. your mouth hangs open, your eyes remain shut and your brain takes in all the granted sensations. adjusting to his lengthy size takes you a few seconds and when you gave your boyfriend permission to continue— that’s exactly what he does.

his hips thrust in an almost hypnotising rhythm: back and forth, back and forth. every interval between the firm movements is the exact same. the thing that differs and makes the experience all the better, is the difference in strength behind each thrust.

one moment he’s carefully sliding in and out of your sopping cunt and in the next he’s forcefully slamming his cock all the way in and out. satoru stifles his moans by attaching his lips to yours—capturing them in a sloppy, rough kiss.

“satoru—satoru, ah, please.. right there,” you mewl into his mouth. his tongue finds yours and your salivas mix.

your lover answers your pleas by holding onto your hand, your fingers interlocking with his thumb soothingly rubbing your skin. satoru never fails to make you feel loved during intimate acts like these. no matter how filthy, nasty and rough he’s fucking you.

you arch your back and your chest presses against satoru’s, causing him to groan against your lips. a cocky grin appears on his face after he moves his head to the crook of your neck. he leaves a couple hickeys along the area of your throat—his hips not giving you a break. even as you continuously whimper and look like you’re about to lose your mind from pleasure.

that’s what satoru wants; to have you come undone beneath him. it’s the most beautiful thing in the world to him. others may call it perverted, but the older man always aims to make you reach as many orgasms as you can in one night. it fuels his carnal desires to see you convulse and shake after every intense climax.

his baby feeling good is all he wants to achieve.

“mhm, i know, princess. i know.” satoru breathes out and returns his lips to yours. he can’t go on long without tasting you. you’re like a drug he’s addicted to. every reaction—small or big—gets him going, “take it easy—fuck, you can do that f’me."

you reply with incoherent noises of agreement. there’s not a thought going on behind those watery eyes of yours. that much is obvious to your boyfriend.

your legs lock his cock inside of you by wrapping around his hips. your eyes are glazed over; a cockdrunk look. one that would make any man cum on spot.

“princess, wait,” satoru whines. he can’t stop himself, yet he’s telling you to wait. his body refuses to come to a halt as it strives towards a satisfying orgasm. he can feel it, his balls tightening and ready to spill everything they have, “if you continue looking at me like that, ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum.”

he isn’t lying. you’re nearly driving him over the edge with everything you do. your legs that tighten their grip around his hips in fear of him pulling out is his favorite thing to experience. it’s like you’re desperate to continue.

your hands play with his sweaty body, fingers caressing his hard chest to feel his heartbeat. you’re drooling. your head is spinning as you think of your lover claiming you. fucking his precious cum into you, “inside—want it inside. all of it.”

satoru chokes on his spit. you don’t know what you do to him. muttering such erotic words causes the older man to malfunction every time. without fail. his hips are painfully ramming against yours.

“you sure? ah, shit.” satoru curses. his brows are furrowed, his hands holding you by your jaw. the view of you with your head tilted back and your teary eyes looking straight into his is pure perfection, “can’t deny you when you look so hot begging me to cum inside your greedy little pussy.”

the room is spinning. your nails claw into satoru’s back, leaving faint red marks on his pale skin. you shudder the instant he slides out of you until all that’s left is his pink tip prodding at your entrance.

it’s like he gets off on it. to see you whimper, quiver and struggle to contain your pleas for permission to cum. your boyfriend drags his tip up and down your slit, tapping it against your clit repeatedly.

“cum f’me, baby.” satoru coos. he knows you’re right on the edge. before you can reply, he shoves his cock back inside your spasming cunt—ruthlessly pounding you until you scream his name.

your eyes roll back and all you can do is hold your breath the moment the intense orgasm washes over you. your hips buck, your legs tremble and your pussy gushes all over his cock.

spurts of clear liquid cover satoru’s thighs. you squirting isn’t something he had expected to see, but it is a pleasant surprise regardless. it all gets too much for your lover and it drives him to his own climax as well.

satoru hugs you tightly to him. your chests press together with one of his arms holding your upper body up—his nose buried into your hair. a muffled grunt escapes his mouth and that’s when you know that he's reaching his finish.

“please—take it, take it, take it,” satoru stutters and stammers. he can’t form any proper words the moment his cock twitches and releases a huge load of sperm into your womb. it’s an overwhelming amount; globs of transculent white liquid ooze out from between your folds.

his sticky cum slides down to your asshole and onto the carpet, staining it. satoru bites his bottom lip whilst his body is still recovering, cock going soft once he pulls it out. he doesn’t know what to do or where to look, yet somehow his gaze always darts back to your dripping cunt.

“fuck. . . that’s hot.” the older man takes in a deep breath. it’s too soon to get hard again, he figures. the way you’re still trembling and struggling to catch your breath tells him enough. you need a break. and a well-deserved one it is.

your weak taps against satoru’s shoulder snaps him out of his dazed state. he takes your hand in his and gently squeezes before helping you into a sitting position. his blue eyes flash with worry,

“hey, hey, baby—you okay?” satoru asks. his voice is raspy, though obviously filled with concern. he rubs your back and encourages you to take deep breaths. small kisses to your temples help calm you down too.

your breathing eventually returns to normal. you chuckle tiredly and lean your head against his shoulder. your attentive lover wipes the saliva from the corners of your lips and does the same with the tears around your eyes. you sniff, “y-yeah. just felt amazing, hehe.”

satoru sighs in relief. he was scared that he hurt you somehow. your confession makes him laugh and squeeze your body against his. he cups your face and kisses you twice out of pure adoration.

you’re always ten times more adorable to him after you’ve had sex.

“aw, glad it did.” satoru smiles, his dimples showing. your eyes glisten and you smile back out of reflex. you pucker your lips and your lover takes the hint. he presses his mouth against yours once more; this time playfully swiping his tongue over your bottom lip.

you pull back and teasingly swat his bicep. satoru tickles your side as a response. and that’s how you once again end on the floor, with a heavy weight pressing onto your front.

satoru nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and breathes in your scent. you’re the best thing to have happened to him. you, the love of his life.

“the best present i could have ever gotten.” the white-haired sorcerer mumbles to no one in particular. though, you heard it. faintly.

you rub his back. you’re sure you made it up to him. he’s clinging onto you, nearly suffocating you by laying on top of your smaller body, but you don’t mind. you play with his hair and your fingernails graze against his undercut to which satoru reacts with a low purr.

you’re happy. he’s happy. that’s all that matters;

“happy birthday, my love.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #jjk x you #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #female reader

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leviismybby · 2 years ago

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How the aot veterans notice that you and Levi are secretly an item...

Erwin

Let's be honest, he knew it even before you two got together. Erwin is a very observing man, hardly anything that is going on in the headquarters can get past him. The first time he noticed that something was up was when Levi started to butt in while he was doing the plans for expeditions, always sneakily trying to put you in the safest position possible. It was always "Name isn't skilled enough to be here" or "She would do better if you put her over here". Another thing he noticed is that you two started to attend meetings late with some lame excuse, he just dismissed it but enjoyed how much you both struggled to keep the act up.

However one day you two don't show up to work at all, spending all day having "fun" in Levi's room and the excuses Erwin heard the next almost made him laugh. "And where were you two?" He asked as you and Levi entered his office, his eyebrow raised. "We were busy." Levi says but he knows that it's not enough. "I was giving her private training all day yesterday." Erwin nods, not believing a single word. "Is that so? And why didn't you inform me about this?" Levi scoffs, he knows he shouldn't lie to Erwin but he can't just say that you two were fucking like rabbits the whole day yesterday. "I thought that it wasn't important." Erwin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose at Levi's words. "For Ymir's sake just say that you two were having sex and stop with this nonsense." Your mouth drops right open at the commander's words, a slight blush creeping on your cheeks meanwhile Levi scoffs at Erwin. Guess he did not have to lie to his superior officer anymore, the cat was out of the bag anyway.

Hange

It was their number-one entertainment besides spending the whole day doing titan research. They noticed it mostly because of Levi and how his behavior would change around you. Little things like, how often he sat next to you, how close the two of you would stand to each other anytime you were next to one another. One of the biggest giveaways was Levi's hand on your lower back which suggested that the two of you were already intimate with one another. They saw you once brush a fur off his uniform jacket, that was where Hange got their confirmation. For the next few weeks, they noticed even more, on one occasion, you had your hand resting on his thigh while you two were sitting down. It took everything in them not to bug you or Levi about it that is, until they saw love bites on your neck, they couldn't help but look at your neck and that's when they had to say something. "Damn name. Someone is getting it good huh?" You start to cough at their words and Levi looks up from his tea. "What are you talking about?" Hange snickers. "Your neck, Levi isn't going easy on you is he?" "Shut the fuck up four-eyes."

Miche

He is the one who keeps his nose out of everyone's business but even he couldn't help but feel intrigued when he noticed that Levi had your scent on him one morning. "Hmm.." He would hum, finding it strange just how strong your smell on Levi was. So he waited to see if you would smell like Levi too and he got his opportunity when you sat next to him in the mass hall at dinner. He side-eyes you, you indeed had Levi's cologne on you. "Mhh..." He hums again and looks between you and Levi. "So do you two use the same shampoo and soap or?" Miche asks, looking at your reactions. "What are you japping about?" Levi asks, already annoyed that Miche is asking such a thing. "Don't play me for a fool. You two smell like each other. Why is that?" You and Levi stay quiet and the silence is enough for Miche. "Ah, I see..." He can't help but nod in approval. "Well good luck. At least know we know where Levi is taking his stress out."

Nanaba

Now....she downright catches you two making out and it was by pure accident. She borrowed a shirt from you and wanted to return it so you told her to just bring it to your room when she had the time. Bad idea. Levi was sitting on your bed, you on his lap as you kissed passionately. His hands were rubbing your back under your shirt, you moaned softly against his lips. Levi's hands move to your hips and he grinds you on top of him, you get the message, and just as you are about to pull your shirt over your head when. "Name here is your shirt back- oh..." Nanaba stood in the doorway, her eyes going wide as she saw the position you two were in. It took a few seconds to register what happened but Levi spoke before you. "Fucking...fuck off. Can't you see we are busy?" He says, his voice harsh, his hands still on your hips. Nanaba chuckles. "Alright, alright, keep on....yeah. And use protection" "Out!" Levi yells and Nanaba smiles before closing the door behind her. "....I forgot to lock the door..." You try not to laugh at the situation when you see Levi's annoyed face. "Whatever. Now let's get back to what we were starting." You smile as he resumes kissing you.

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satorus-princess · 22 days ago

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him, just him

a/n: taking care of satoru because he deserves it <3 (especially after that post)

word count: 1.6k

fem!reader x gojo satoru, sfw

most people would say that gojo is spoiled. he's the strongest, after all - he has all the power anyone could want, fame within the jujutsu society, and money. what else could he want or need?

gojo himself thinks he's spoiled - no, not because of the materialistic things like money and fame, and definitely not because of his burdensome power. it's because of his wife. everything else is put to shame when he has you. he really couldn't want or need anything else.

but to you, he was anything but spoiled. you felt like you could never do enough for him. still, you try to do as much as you can for him, wanting to make his life easier and to bring back the striking light in his cerulean orbs that have dimmed over the years.

so here you are, at two a.m., anticipating your husband's return from a mission. earlier, he messaged you of the estimated time that he will be finished and that should be any minute now. he had also told you not to wait up for him, but now, you are running a soothing bath for him.

the bathroom light is off, a few scented candles planted on the counter and on the edge of the bathtub create a soothing ambience. the smell of chamomile fills the air as you had infused the warm bath water with an oil specific for relaxation.

you had noticed that, recently, his responsibilities between teaching and being called on missions has caught up to him. it was normal for sorcerers to experience burnout, even for gojo, contrary to popular belief. it's expected due to the lack of sleep, the burden of the world on his shoulders, the responsibilities of the teaching and lives of the students, and the stress of the higher-ups.

as you get caught up in your concerned thoughts about gojo, you barely hear the aforementioned man come home. his steps are quiet, his feet practically dragging along the floor due to his exhaustion.

“(y/n)?” he calls softly as he steps into the bedroom, finding the bed made and no one sleeping in it. he frowns slightly, wondering where you could be. did something happen?

before his thoughts could spiral down a negative hole, you appear at the doorway of the bedroom. “i'm here, my love.” you approach him with a loving smile, immediately wrapping your arms around his tall figure. his own arms find their way around you, keeping you in a tight embrace as he closes his eyes to savour your warmth and comfort.

“why aren't you sleeping?” is the first thing he says to you, yet he makes no move to tear away from the hug. of course, he thinks about you before himself.

“come with me,” you say simply, not providing an answer or explanation. you slide your hand down to his, lacing your fingers together and gently tugging him towards the bathroom.

“baby, i really just want to go to--” his voice is husky with fatigue, his sentence getting cut off when you both step into the dimly lit bathroom filled with soothing scents. he pauses, looking between you and the bath setup. “is this for me?”

“mhm, just for you.”

he swallows thickly, standing there as if unfamiliar with the situation. “my sweet...” he trails off, lips parted as if wanting to say something else but the words not formulating.

with a smile, you bring your entwined hands up to your lips, gently kissing the back of his hand. “i know you wouldn't go to a spa, so i brought the spa to you. for a few days.”

the lump in his throat grows larger, choking on his words as he tries to express his appreciation, his thoughts. you give his hand a gentle squeeze in understanding, hoping he knows that he doesn't need to thank you.

despite his appreciation, there's a lingering thought that he has to voice. “and the higher-ups approved of this?”

“hmm, technically no. but when have we ever cared about what they say? you need this, my love, don't think about it. forget about your responsibilities, being the strongest, being gojo satoru. just be you for a few days, okay?” you urge him, your eyes almost pleading as you look up at him.

his beautiful, beautiful eyes become slightly misty in response to your words, a look of adoration and pure, tender love glistening in them. he doesn't respond, rendered speechless again while he keeps his eyes locked onto yours. he doesn't know if he can just be himself, to forget about the identity forced upon him practically since birth.

you notice the uncertainty swirling around in his eyes, revealing the disarray of thoughts in his mind. “my love?” you say softly, withdrawing him from his spiral.

“... sorry.”

you shake your head with a small smile. “there's nothing to apologise for. come on, get in the bath before it gets cold.”

“undress me?” his cheeky smile comes back.

you laugh softly, stepping closer to him. his eyes follow your movements, glancing down at your hand that reaches for the zipper of his dark jacket. you slowly tug it down, revealing the black t-shirt he wears beneath. he takes that off himself, while you work on his trousers and boxers. it's a completely uninhibited, intimate moment. no sense of desire, just complete tenderness as he stands bare before you with a few scars adorning his porcelain skin.

once you're done, he lifts your hand to your lips and kisses each of your fingertips gently. his gaze makes your heart skip a beat; it's so full of intense love and devotion.

you clear your throat before speaking, but your voice still comes out small. “do you need anything else?”

“no, just you. will you join me?”

“if you want me to. i was planning on washing your hair, not necessarily joining you.”

“you can still wash my hair that way.”

he settles into the warm bath, letting out a heavy, contented sigh as it seems to take an immediate effect. he reaches his hand out for you, spreading his legs under the water so that you can take your seat between them. after slipping out of your own clothes, you take his hand and let him help you into the water. once you're sitting, he tugs you against his chest with your back towards him.

“i don't think i can wash your hair this way,” you point out. he leans forward slightly to rest his chin on your shoulder, his arms around your torso as his thumb rubs circles into your skin.

he smiles, pressing a kiss to your neck. “it's alright. i just wanna hold you like this for a bit.”

the two of you stay like that for a while, tangled limbs and sharing each other's warmth in a serene silence that settles around you. you almost think that gojo fell asleep behind you since he has been quiet the whole time but then, his lips move against the back of your neck. “i love you,” it's the softest of whispers, yet it's so heartfelt and powerful, his tone so soaked in emotion that his voice almost cracks.

“i love you, too, ‘toru,” you murmur, and you feel the beating of his heart quicken as his chest is moulded to your back. “you wanna let me wash your hair now?”

he hums and nods in response, switching your positions so that he is now sitting between your legs with his back leaning against your chest. his eyes flutter closed as he feels warm water rain onto his hair; a quick rinse before you squeeze shampoo into your palm, gently lathering his hair and massaging his scalp.

a gravelly groan rumbles in the depths of his throat as your fingers thread through his hair, ensuring every strand is soapy, and the tips of your fingers manage to soothe every ache in his body.

“feels good,” he mumbles, sounding as if he's on the verge of sleep. trust buzzes between the two of you as he allows you to take care of him in the way you know best.

“i'm glad,” you reply softly with a smile.

asking him to keep his eyes closed and tilt his head back a little more, you begin to wash out the suds from his hair. the gentle manner in which you treat him is something he isn't used to - he feels as if you handle him as something so fragile that if you moved too rashly, he would shatter.

he feels a lump grow in his throat and he traps his lower lip between his teeth to stop it from trembling. taking a deep, shaky breath, a crystal tumbles down the curve of his cheek which catches your attention. your hands freeze in his hair.

“my love?” you utter with such concern. he unlids his eyes once more, and with his head still tipped back, he stares up at you from his upside-down angle, yet you're able to see the emotions swirling in the waves of his ocean eyes. one motion of a wave, and another salty trickle escapes. “hey...” you lean down to brush your lips against his forehead and he tilts his head further into your touch, craving your affection. you trail your lips down to kiss each of his eyelids with the gentleness of a feather.

his lips curve up into a smile, an unsteady one, but a smile nevertheless. he reaches up, fingers rooting themselves on your cheek as his thumb brushes against it.

“i love you,” he whispers once more, “and i love the way you love me.”

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retiredteabag · 4 months ago

Text

Unknown Rivals

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

Synopsis: There was only one thing worse than being paired with Sukuna for an important school project, and that was realizing the slacker somehow had a higher class standing than yourself.

Tags: Academic rivals, enemies to eventual lovers, type A reader, mentions on anxiety.

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - next part

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

You had been partnered with Sukuna for weeks now, and you were starting to lose it. After turning in your draft for the final presentation, you had learned of your classmates status as a student.

After having assumed that every meeting the two of you held was more of a free tutoring session for the lazy man, it would turn out Sukuna was the only student in class who was rivaling your own grades.

After this information had been absorbed, you left class without so much as a glace the boy's way.

It killed you to know that he was so nonchalant, that he barely put any effort into class and work yet he was up there with you.

He likely thought you a fool, all that time "teaching" him, he probably spent mocking you.

You couldn't help the flood of thoughts that overtook you, thoughts of him mocking you to his friends, thoughts of him screenshotting your messages to send to some group chat, thoughts of him making jeers at your intellect while you explain a concept ad nauseam.

Oh, how you hated him.

It didn't help that you so desperately craved approval from others. Teachers, friends, parents. You wanted it all. If you hadn't their validation, what did you have?

You worked tirelessly to earn the grades you maintained, even if people teased you, called you stuck up, or a sycophant. Was it so wrong to want to be liked?

And here he was, above it all, putting little to no effort into his work and still coming out on top.

He must have found it real funny. Probably had a good laugh every Friday when you met to "work" on your project.

That is why you found yourself writing up a short email, explaining how you no longer had an interest in meeting with him to prep. Requesting he develop his final presentation alone and informing him that from that day forward you would research, write, and present separately.

You hadn't even requested he send in his work for your review, though he had never done it before. No, you would do your part as far away from Sukuna as you possibly could and hope he never looked your way again.

This project was a big deal, you would be presenting it not just to your classmates and professors, no, but company stakeholders as well. They would be coming out to the auditorium to see students speak during finals. Some might even be looking for possible interns.

Apparently Sukuna knew what he was doing so maybe you didn’t need to monitor his work.

You were still going to stress about it though.

"UGH! I just cringe to think of every conversation. Why was he even meeting with me?"

You and your roommate had gone out for dinner and you were regaling her with the woes of your school project while she dipped her fries in a generous coating of milkshake.

"That boy looks like he's never held a coherent thought in his head, I doubt he cared to spare any consideration to something other than himself." She spoke with her mouth full, taking another bite, "He looks pretentious."

She wiped her fingers off on her jeans and reached for another handful of fries.

"But that's just the thing" You sigh, "he looks like he wouldn't handle complex thought but-" you're cut off by her giggle but you push onward, "-I'm serious! But he's apparently some wonder boy, a reeeeeal academic." You end your thought with a huff, dipping a nugget into some ketchup, and finishing your meal.

"Well now your Fridays are free, that's nice at least." She shrugs and all you can do is nod. "Who would have thought popular Sukuna is a nerd like you."

"He's not a nerd." You point a finger at her, "He doesn't even study! And I don't get why everyone likes him, he pays nobody the time of day."

"Are you kidding me?" She makes an incredulous laugh, raising her browns.

"What?"

"You haven't the slightest clue why he's so popular? Have you seen the man?"

As much as you hate to admit it... she was a little right. He was undeniably attractive. And his tattoos stretched across his body in a way that made him look like art. He wasn't a peacock either, flaunting himself, he seemed indifferent to the whole thing. He really was just one lucky bastard.

I seriously hate that guy.

The next week was filled with your typical busyness, avoiding your project partner didn't really occupy too much space in your mind, especially since he hadn't taken the curtesy to even respond to your email.

That was why, when you eventually saw him straighten his posture the second you entered the shared class, him stalking your movements carefully, you couldn't help but feel frustrated.

Did he say anything? No. Did he try to get your attention? No. But he kept looking at you, and every so often during the lecture, you could feel his gaze in your direction. Serving to annoy you further. He could pay no attention in class and still catch up to your academic level.

Stop being a distraction.

Ugh.

After the last fiasco with this professor, you weren't exactly looking forward to sharing a word so you found yourself packing up the moment class was over. It hadn't even taken you putting away your folder for you to feel a hand on your shoulder.

"Hey."

You narrowed your eyes in his direction. Sukuna spoke.

"We should probably discuss the presentation."

This might have been the most you had ever heard him say at a time. About school or otherwise.

"I sent you an email, you know?"

You shuffle your bag to fit everything comfortably and zip it up. Continuing on, "We already split everything up, if you'd like to see my slides so you can match my format you'll find them in the email I sent." You swung your bag over your shoulder, "Last week."

You were making your way to the classroom door, fully prepared for him to shrug it off, but he seemed to have kept up with your pace, speaking down into your ear as you made it to the threshold.

"I've looked over your slides. That's not what I'm talking about." He followed behind you, opening the classroom door wider to stand next to you.

"Sukuna. I emailed you. I've emailed you several times. What about our project do we need to discuss that you couldn't have just emailed me about?" You try to keep your voice down, your professor was still at his desk.

"Shouldn't we... I don't know, be practicing?" He shrugs.

"...What?"

"Practicing? For our presentation? I don't know, I figured you would be the type to want things to flow smoothly."

You pull back, "I do want things to flow smoothly, like I already stated in the email, I am going to present first, then wait for questions, and then you'll go and do the same."

He raises a brow, "I got that." The way he looks at you and speaks so patronizingly distinct as if to suggest you were the slow one. "I'm just saying, we should practice at least once, I want to make sure you can do it."

It took you a moment to understand what he had just said. No way, NO WAY he had just suggested that YOU didn't know what you were doing. You bark out a laugh. "I'm sorry? You want to make sure I can do it?"

He stands still, looks up at the ceiling, and hums, "Well, you're so anal about stuff, I figured you'd want to."

You can hear the blood pounding in your ears, "I'm sorry I like things to be done right." You swing your bag a little more aggressively. "I'll send you my presentation notes so you can make sure I can do it."

You start to march down the hall, offended by his lackadaisical insults when he swoops up to you in just a few strides. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying.... wouldn't it soothe your anxiety to go over it together? I don't think it's wrong to suggest that we would do better after having gone over it at least once."

Oh sure, he was thinking about your anxiety, how kind. You roll your eyes.

You saw him out of your periphery and clutched your bag to your chest as he approached. When you turned to see him he had his arms raised in defense. "If you really care so much I'll add my slides to the presentation and send it to you."

"Good." You swung back. "I've only been asking for," you roll your eyes, walking backward to one of the campus exits, "oh, I don't know, weeks?"

"Fine." He huffed, squinting at you, "But we seriously should go over it so I can be sure you don't ruin my work with your public speaking." He was smirking at you, you had never seen that look on his face and you hoped never to see it again.

"Oh-" You gasp, "my gosh." You stomp away, whipping out your keys, "Thanks Sukuna, I'll try not to ruin all your hard work since you're such a team player."

That man was dead to you.

You would never say it to his face, but as finals approached, you were beginning to feel the typical sickness in your stomach. You made recordings of your note cards to listen to at night, practiced your speech endlessly, and changed the batteries in your clicker at least three times.

You had always been anxious, memories of puking before tests as a child still live on in the churning of your gut. This anxiety helped to motivate you but was unnecessarily intense, your own mother had told you to loosen up in the past but that was simply not something you were capable of controlling.

"Well, you're so anal about stuff-"

Oh, that man pissed you off. And after all that effort to seem cool and composed in all of your "tutoring" sessions, he could still tell that you cared. Cared more than you should.

You would never be the cool girl.

And this was why you were growing more upset with the understanding that you felt- you knew you really would feel better if you could just have the chance to practice your speeches.

But your pride had gotten in the way.

Couldn't he have just said that he wanted to practice instead of making it seem like he didn't believe in you?

His email did come, by the way. No words, just an attachment.

And damn him, the slides we good, not too crowded, and perfectly concise, he even had his speaker notes included and as you whispered them to yourself while sitting on your mattress you became determined.

You would not let this man outperform you. There would be employers present looking for interns and if you wanted to be noticed you could not be seen as the weak leak between the two of you. Especially not if it was Sukuna.

You started your email at 11 that night and rewrote for far too long.

Yes, you would practice your presentation with him, because and ONLY because you wouldn't allow him to drag you down.

It would also help settle your nerves, but he didn't need that confirmation.

It was on. Partner or not, you were fighting for the top spot in class and if your speaking ability fell short in comparison to his, you could not ever stand to look at him again.

But one thing you knew for sure as you sent the email, was that your advisor would be receiving some correspondence about avoiding a certain someone in future semesters.

It was past midnight. You started drafting a note about your class enrollment needs.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Tags: @blueyesuguru @monimonster57

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kyri45 · 5 months ago

Note

HIIIIII!!! Read through your entire shadowpeach parents au in a day and I'm OBSESSED!!! The latest comics with Red Son and MK were gorgeous, tbh I think the song Fantastic by King Princess is a perfect match for those scenes!

I had a kinda (actually make that very) stressful day so would you have any cute/fluffy headcanons about spicynoodles? Or hints about what to expect in the future? If not no worries I'll read the comic for the tenth time lol

Thx! <3

I was born for this moment *clear throat*, I can't say too much but since this comic wont divulge too much on spicynoodle after the end I might as well.

MK will climb that man whenever he can, even when he's working on a project you can bet your ass he will be clinging on his back like his life depends on him.

Red Son still has some self awareness over his true form and MK is just there everytime to remind him he's beautiful.

Red Son is typically the one who would go on to even write poetries for MK, or start an absurdly long list of complex compliments for him to get flustered and embarassed for. In the meantime MK just needs to call him "cute" and Red Son.exe will stop working.

Red Son tends to work all night someday but you better bet his monkey bf will force him to bed (MK lifting a 6 feet bull boy like he's a bag of chips is an image that have been haunted me for weeks)

The entire fortress knows these two bitches are together, everyone would open the door for MK and guide him to Red Son door, but the fucker will always, ALWAYS, just sneak inside to Red Son room just to give him surprises kissed while he almost burn him alive from the jumpscare.

During winter MK is even MORE clingly bc the man is just a fucking living furnace

N°1 reason why Mamacaque approved him was bc he knew his son would never be cold again

N°1 reason why Wukong DIDN'T approve of him at first was because he was afraid he would accidentally burn MK.

#shadowpeach bio parents au #ask box #lmk spicynoodles #spicynoodle

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sunderwight · 1 year ago

Text

Imagine how much Shen Yuan and Airplane would hate it if an actual PIDW fan transmigrated in too, though.

Like, one of the guys who genuinely loved the stallion novel harem-building aspects, the weird-yet-vanilla het sex, the willingness to throw the plot out of the door just to have yet another interchangeable woman throw herself at the hero. Someone who only ever had nice things to say in the comment section, who unironically referred to Airplane as a master storyteller, who bought some of the VIP chapters (if he liked the wife Bingge was destined to wed & bed), couldn't name any of the monsters or sex flowers or most of the male side characters, had a Xin Mo keychain and once commissioned fan art of Sha Hualing (favorite wife) looking sexy in a pin-up pose, and told Peerless Cucumber he was a weirdo who took things too seriously on more than one occasion.

I think he'd bother Airplane the most. Shen Yuan would be annoyed and tell him his taste was in his ass, but that's about it.

But Airplane? I think at first he'd be inclined to enjoy having an uncomplicated "fan" of his work turn up. This guy actually praises him! He has nothing but flattering things to say! It's like a dream come true! Except... well, Airplane himself is perfectly aware of the decisions he made in his writing and why (he sold out deliberately, not because he thought it would actually make for a better story -- say what you will about whether or not it's worth it, but the man knows what he's doing), and also I suspect kind of resents his own popular audience whenever he has to interact with them for more than minute.

After all, these were the patrons he had to appease and appeal to, the readers he had to worry about offending or alienating, the ones who were paying the bills but also would have vanished at the drop of a hat if he hadn't given them a steady supply of what they wanted. It's not the audience he actually desired, it's the one he decided not to offend in order to maximize profitability. Peerless Cucumber might be a pain in the ass, but he's a pain in the ass who picked up on the story that Airplane himself originally intended to tell, and wanted PIDW to actually be that. Which has gotta be kind of gratifying, in a roundabout way.

I think it would stress Airplane out to have someone approve of the things he himself didn't even approve of. Like on the one hand this guy seems to have only a good opinion of him, but on the other hand it's based entirely on a false impression and Airplane actually agrees way more with Cucumber's assessment of his writing, because he wrote it badly on purpose. Since the guy has a good opinion, that's something Airplane can potentially lose, and he'd be most likely to lose it by revealing the truth about his own creative intentions and his actual tastes and inclinations. A ticking time bomb of disapproval that could go off at any moment to who-knows-what effect.

He'd hate it. Eventually every time User No.3 came around he'd just be like:

[ID: A gif of Skeletor from Masters of the Universe gliding through a blue magical barrier and then reaching back to punch and shatter it. End ID]

#svsss #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #airplane: finally a REAL fan #airplane five minutes later: hmm... don't like this #image ID provided by princess-of-purple-prose

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wandanatw0rld · 10 months ago

Text

+18 | men & minor denied

beefy!natasha romanoff x pillowprincess!female reader x college!au

warnings: girlxgirl; Natasha being a boxer; rough sex; anal sex; strap on use (r receving); a little bit of praise; fingersucking; brief mention of war; Alexei & Bucky being two assholes; not propfread

b: Natasha's father comes to visit her, but their meeting doesn't go very well, and (un)fortunately for you, you have to pay for her frustration.

I think that's it, have fun ;D

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay, I love you too, Mom. Bye" You're sitting on Natasha's bed, notepads and books on every surface, you stop writing and look at the redhair.

"Is everything okay, Nat?" She looks at you, her jaw is clenched, her poor phone pressed against her strong hands, she sits on the edge.

"My dad's coming to visit, he wants to take a tour of Steve's gym," you crawl next to her, taking her hands off her thighs and replacing them with you.

"Is that so bad?" You hold her face, green eyes with a hint of desperation.

"Let's say my dad wanted me to be a doctor and not a boxer," Natasha didn't like to talk about her parents, especially her dad.

Her parents are both from Russia, late Soviet Union, and came to America after the war destroyed their home, the United States seemed to be a place to have a new life with more hopes. Natasha was young and didn't remember much about it, but she remembered the bombs, a whole reason why she hated New Year's Eve.

"Do you want me to be with you?" Natasha seems to consider for a few seconds.

"Are you ready to meet Alexei Romanoff?" She asks you sweetly. "One of the founders of this masterpiece?" Natasha pointed at herself in a very silly way.

"Actually, I am. But let's stop talking about your dad and talk about how much I need you to kiss me".

"I agreed," she says, standing up, you laughing as she holds you, her lips pressed to yours.

...

You were nervous to meet Natasha's father, lost count of the number of times you looked in the mirror, even though the redhead said you looked gorgeous as always. At first, Alexei Romanoff seems really scary with his bear, but he's really an idiot like his daughter. He told jokes, shared stories about Natasha wanting to be a superhero, you kissed her red cheek when the old man made fun of her blue hair.

Now the three of you are in Steve's gym, which he closed just so Natasha could show the place to her dad. But the more you listen to them, the more you're worried about Natasha's well-being.

"You're getting too big, sweetheart. And those tattoos, your mom will lose her mind if she sees you," the redhead breathes out, her patience coming to an end.

"I like my tattoos" You watch them very quietly, the way Natasha squeezes your hand and clenches her jaw makes you worry about her dad. "Dad, please. Look at the size of your belly."

"Your mom likes it".

"I bet she does". Alexei doesn't think it's funny, and you only realize that when he say it to her:

"When are you going to get a real job?" His tone is throaty, sharp as a knife, the same tone Natasha uses when she's stressed.

"This is a real job, Dad. I like working here" Her eyes glow with challenge, one more word and she'll explode.

"Yelena is doing great with me, she's really going to run the business one day".

"Yelena was always looking for your approval." You'd never met Yelena before, but Natasha always talked about the blonde with love and affection.

"Someone has to have it" The silence is heavy, you want to say something, but Natasha could kill her father with her eyes.

"Well, my class is in ten minutes, so... Let me walk you to the exit," Alexei seemed shaken, but he turned to you.

"It was really nice to meet you. When Natasha told me how beautiful you were, I didn't think it would be so much". Natasha doesn't look at either of you.

"Thank you, Mr. Romanoff".

"Please, call me Alexei. You make me feel old".

"You are old." The look in his eyes frightened you.

...

Natasha is taking you home, the fact that she hasn't said a word is worrying.

"See you tomorrow?" You ask and give her a peck on her cheek

"I don't know. I'm busy tomorrow" But she doesn't look at you.

You know what bothers her. Natasha wants her father's approval, all she ever wanted was to make him proud and not being able to do that is killing her. You don't see her the next morning or the day after, so you ask Clint if he knows anything while you both go shopping for baby stuff.

"I don't know, to be honest, she doesn't talk to me" He's looking at the dipers section in the drugstore, you've been helping him for forty minutes now, one of the professors has canceled the class. "I was going to ask her out for a drink, but she didn't answer her phone"

"I'm going to visit her at the gym today after class," you smile sweet at him. "Clint, these are adult dipers".

"God, I'm a terrible dad".

"Don't put too much pressure on yourself, Clint. These are things you can catch up over time.

"Thank you!" You gave his shoulder a good, enthusiastic squeeze.

"I gotta go. I gotta help Wanda with Billy and Tommy."

"Who are they?"

"Her clownfish, but I think one of them is female".

...

The hours seemed to pass so slowly that you didn't notice anything. You left your things in your dorm and hurried to Natasha's work. You entered, the place is quiet, there are a few people working out on headphones. You approach the reception, Bucky, another employee looks at you. You don't like him, the way he provokes Natasha and worse, his jokes towards you, they aren't funny, but it definitely amuses him.

"Hi Bucky, is Natasha here?"

"She asked Steve for a day off, she's at the arena" You turn to leave, but he calls you. "Can I ask you something?"

"Bring it on".

"Why are you with her?" See, not funny. "I mean, I know she's hot and rich, but-."

"I don't think that's any of your business, Bucky."

They march into the arena, loud rock music, The Marvels really hate somebody. Natasha hits the bag with precision, she growls with every punch, it is fucking hot. She doesn't realize you're there until you turn off the music.

"What the fuck!" You wave to her, she takes off her gloves and grabs a bottle of water.

"Hi to you too" You reache her. "I miss you"

"Me too" Her response is somewhat mechanical.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She drinks the water.

"Not really". Getting close to her, analyzing every single detail in her, sweat running down her chest, on her strong arms, the veins on her forearm drive you crazy.

"You're avoiding me, was it something I did?" Natasha keeps not looking at you and starts to get on your nerves.

"Everything's fine" She doesn't add a nickname, which means she's really mad.

There are a few details people need to pay attention to with Natasha Romanoff and you mastered them quite well.

When she's angry, she gets quiet, refuses to look at or talk to anyone, plus she listens to rock music really loud, just like it happened. When she is jealous, especially of Bucky and his aproaches towards you, her voice gets husky and scary, hands on your waist, pulling you close, and when takes you home, she makes sure of making you hers, every inch of your skin belong to her.

She was angry. In this case, angrier than she had ever been.

"Fight with me" Natasha seemed confused.

"I'm not going to fight with you" You take a few steps closer.

"Why not?" You ask, her woody perfume smells so good. "Are you afraid I'll hurt you?" You know you have no chance in a fight, you're smaller than her, in everything. Natasha Romanoff could destroy you with one blow. "Okay then. Bye, Natasha."

"Wait" She holds your wrist, her breathing at a normal pace, she looks at you. Natasha was so angry that she didn't notice that you were wearing her favorite outfit. "I'm sorry about that. Is just... Never mind, I'm fine".

"You're not fine, Nat. Something is bothering you, you can tell me," but she just avoids looking into your eyes. "Is it your dad?" The grip in your wrist had tightened.

"I don't want to talk about him" Natasha looks at your body, you're dressed only for her amusement and it's a waste not to take advantage. "Wait here," she opens the door to the arena.

"What are you doing?" You ask.

"Steve will be using the arena today. I'll open it for him." After that, Natasha grabs her backpack and drags you to Steve's office, then locks you both in.

"Nat-" She presses her mouth against yours, it's rough, your legs go weak. On your tiptoes you grab her face, her lips a little salty, hands on your waist, nails scratching deep into it. You push her onto the table, paper clips, documents, everything goes down. "You have to use me, okay?"

"What?"

"About your dad." Her jaw clenches again. "You can bite me, I don't know, just do whatever you want." With worshipful eyes, Natasha turns your bodies over and places you on the table, your legs wrapped around her waist. "I am all yours".

"You are, detka." Finally, the nickname hits between your thighs. "First I'm going to eat you up and then fuck that pretty pussy of yours," you moan, grabbing her hands and putting them over your mouth, sucking her thumb. "You're so beautiful," she touches your lower lip with her wet thumb.

"Nat..." You move your hips into hers.

"No, Malyshka. You have to stay still." Natasha kissed you as she took off your underwear, lifting your skirt just a little, her fingers dipping into your wetness. "This soaked already?" your nails dipped into her neck "And I'm just getting started" You raised your arms to take off the t-shirt, the fact that you were without a bra pleases her, but then she remembered the asshole at the reception. "I wonder if Bucky knows you're not wearing a bra today.

"No, he didn't look at me today." You know that's a lie. Bucky always looks at you, especially today, he definitely noticed the lack of underwear. You bite your lip, her fingers teasing through your folds.

"I think it's just the opposite, Malyshka," she states, her tone assertive. "When he looks at you, he wants you all for himself." Natasha's lips find a place in your neck, a finger dipping gently into your pussy as her teeth in your shoulder. "He wants to fuck you, but he forgets that I'm the only one who can fuck you."

"Nat, please." Natasha firmly squeezes your neck.

"I'm going to remind him, remind everyone. I am worthy of everything, even you" Her fingers slide over your breasts. "Every inch of you is mine, Detka. Your face, your body, this fucking pretty cunt of yours. I can wait until you come in my mouth." Her teeth clamp down on your right nipple, and she sucks hard. You drop your head back, fingers scratching her neck. It hurts, but you're both enjoying it. Natasha spreads your legs wide, her thumb teasing your clit.

"Nat, easy- oh fuck" She buried her fingers deep into your pussy with no mercy.

"You want me to use you, Malyshka. I will. I'll use every hole in you".

"Mm... So good." Natasha's tongue burns your nipples as she adds a third finger.

"Can it fit one more, Malyshka?" You nod, grabbing her fist that adds the fourth one. "So hungry"

"Nat, take off your... "Mmm... please" The redhead is all smiles now, her pretty girl is so needy. Her thumb throbbs in your clit, and you're desperate. Your breasts are sensetive, but Natasha doesn't seem to be tired of them. She'll never be tired of them. "Fuck!" You pull her close with one of your legs, toes clenching inside your shoes. "Don't stop. Please don't" Natasha releases your breast with a lustful pop, her hand bumping for the last time at your soft spot, and then you melt away at her fingers. "Nat..." You hide your face on her neck.

"Thank you, Malyshka." She kisses your cheek. "I'm sorry for avoiding you these days. I've been overthinking about my dad, but I'm handling it."

"Forget about him. For now, I'm going to come into your mouth" You lick her lips slowly.

"God, you're perfect." She kisses you, hungry, her lips pressed on yours, hands on your breasts. You moan on her mouth, they're so painful. Pushing her, you take off her shirt, throwing it with your clothes. Her breasts are perfect, all sweaty, her tattoos glowing. Your hand lands on her ass, squeezing.

She gets on her knees and puts one of your legs on her shoulder. She can't get enough of your cunt.

"Nat, just fuck me" You demand, she dives into your pussy, and begins to grind her tongue on your clit. "Fuck!" You grab her hair and yank, pulling her closer. You try to close your legs, but she holds them open, her fingers digging into your inner thighs. "God... Shit" she plunges a finger into your cunt. "Mm... Don't" You're trembling, so grab her free hand and put it in your mouth. She's watching everything with adoration, loving the sensations that she causes in you. You're mumbling nonsense, sucking her thumb, and pinching your nipples. "I'm going... Don't stop, Nat. Please, don't... I'm almost" You bite your lips, hands on her head now, her red hair tangled in your fingers, holding her mouth firmly on your pussy, she rasps her teeth in your bud, that's enough to make you come, hard, body shaking, legs like jelly. "You're amazing at this"

"I'm not to blame for your choice in men" You smile, bringing her close to your mouth, tasting you on her. "But I have a surprise for you" You watch her put down the cotton shirt, your mouth getting wet. Nothing compares to the wetness between your legs. Natasha is wearing a pink strap, your favorite. "I was planning to come to your place to use as an apology for my behavior."

"I accept your apology after you fuck me hard"

"I will, Detka" she says, her voice low and seductive. She comes closer, her hands on your ribs, thumbs in both of your nipples. "I'll fuck you so hard that you'll not even walk away from here" She pinches your nipples, her eyes locked on yours. "You want that?" You nod, your lips curling into a slow, sensual smile. "You want that everyone see your trembling walk, especially Bucky."

"Yeah" you say, biting your fingertip.

"Let's arrange that for you" her husky voice commands, sending another wave of pleasure through your body. Natasha pushes her cock inside you, lying down on the desk in a mix of pain and lust, nails scratching her arms. She comes forward, hitting your soft spot, her lips seeking yours. "You're mine. I'm fucking worthy of you. Of anything. This job." She leans her forehead on yours, her growls making you moan loud. "He will see." She's not talking about Bucky. Her hands hold your waist, nails digging into your skin. You're too caught up in the pleasure to feel the pain or the blood from the slightly wound.

"Nat, too much." Her hips don't stop, it hurts, but you're too overwhelmed with lust to care. Then she stops, and you moan in tantrum. Natasha pulls out the strap, and you look at her, confused.

"Turn around".

"I don't-"

"You said I had to use you. I'm using you, Malyshka. Now turn around" You do as she says and turn around. "I've always wanted to know what it's like to fuck your tiny hole" She bends you over the desk, deep inside you regret saying she could use you, but now it doesn't matter. "Don't worry. I'll go real slow, Detka".

"Nat, I've never done this before," you said, holding her wrist and looking up.

"It's okay, we can stop if you don't feel comfortable. I'd never do anything to hurt you." The red hair planted a kiss on your bare shoulder, her hands gently caressing your waist.

"I don't want to stop, I just..." You look into her eyes and you have never trusted her as much as you do now. "I trust you.

"Thank you, Malyshka." You bring her close, kissing her lips, stroking the red hair behind her ears, you feel her positioning the strap on your entrance. You exhale into her mouth as she squeezes a tip, nails digging into her cheek. "Fuck!" She curses, it's fucking painful, no more than the pain you feel on your ass. "You're so fucking tight".

"Nat, I don't think I'm going to-" But then she pulls everything into you, and she starts moving, all you can think is why it's taking you so long to do it. "Fuck!" Your arm encircles her shoulder, she puts one of your legs on the table and spreads it. "Right there, Nat," you feel the plastic going in and out, her hands holding you still, it's fucking good, it burns, but you don't want to stop. "Don't stop, please. Don't stop."

"I'm not going to" And there's the rusky voice, Natasha leads her hand to your clit, touching it very slow, the base of the strap lightly on her clit, then rubbing real rough while she fucks your ass. "You're doing great, pretty girl".

"Mmm... Nat, fuck, please. Faster" Steve's table starts to slide on the floor, more things fall off it. "Almost" Her hips are much faster than you think is possible, you lose control of everything, you start mumbling nonsense again, you don't know what's happening, but you can definitely hear voices coming from the arena, you don't know any of these people, Natasha doesn't seem to care, she's not loud, but she's not quiet either.

"I'm almost there too, detka" You can feel her breasts on your back, her hands pulling your hair to make room for her mouth to find your neck and her teeth dip into it, fingers entering your cunt. You know it's not easy to do it, but Natasha made it seem easy. "Shh Malyska, people will start to hear you," you can't help but moan. You stuffed your mouth with your hand, the teeth go deep. She adds another finger, but then begins to lose frequency, you feel more and more close to the edge. "I'm coming, pretty girl" A few more thrusts and you almost pass out.

Breathes throughout the office, Natasha laid on your back, hands caressing your arms.

"Natasha, are you still there?" It's Bucky. "I didn't see your girlfriend leave. Is she there?"

"Yeah, we're cleaning, Steve asked me to and she's helping me, why?" You only realize what happened when you feel her cock digging into your cunt, a slow moan leaving your lips, it's too sensitive.

"Steve wants to know if you want to join in" Natasha begins to slowly push against your pussy, you want more, you need more, your hands searching for any support.

"Only when I finish cleaning" She kisses your neck, on the mark she made. "No way I'm leaving you for that." She whispers in your ear. Her hips are frenetic. "Can you get that box for me, Detka?" But you don't answer, you can't, it's too good. "You have to say something, Detka".

"T-that o-ne??" Natasha laughs in silence, her smile playful and cocky.

"Okay, I'll tell him." You don't know if Bucky believes that, but it's too good to pay attention.

"You liked that, huh?" She raises her torso, holding your waist, her movements bursting. "Don't try to deny it, Malyshka, I can't keep my cock inside you"

"I like it" She bites your sholders, her tongue burning your skin.

"Malyshka, you're so good to me" Her nails dig into your waist, her hips bump against your butt, the strap gliding smoothly over your wet cunt. "So beautiful accepting everything from me" You feel her front on your back, her teeth biting hard into the skin of your ribs.

Natasha's fingers rub your needy bud.

"Nat... I'm going to... Fuck!" You bite your hand, the small room insanely hot, the voices of people on the other side of the door adding another layer of lust.

"It's okay, pretty girl. You can cum on my cock," the walls are tightening around Natasha's cock, she's gripping your jaw very gently, very different from what her hips are doing, she kisses you. And then you feel the nod in your stomach to undo.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Your teeth mark your hands.

Her hips slowly stop, you feel her heartbeat on your back. She pulls her cock out.

"That was hot." She says, kissing your cheek.

"I don't know if I can walk".

"That's what you wanted," you look at her, almost offended. "I'm joking, Malyshka. We'll have to stay here for a while.

"As if I'm going to leave with all these people".

You watch as Natasha goes to her backpack, grabs a towel, and wraps the strap to clean it later. She picks up your clothes, you can't move, the orgasm has melted your legs.

"Let me help you, Malyshka," Natasha pushes one of your legs through the panties, then the other. "Okay. Do you need help with your shirt?" You nod, you don't need it, but you have a soft spot for her being so sweet and helpful. You raise your hands, she helps you, then she pulls up your skirt, your shoes. "Come here, let's get you somewhere more comfortable" You hold her like a koala while she leads you to a sofa. "I'm going to put my clothes on and then put everything back. You need to rest.

"I want to help you" You try to get up, but your legs are still wobbly.

"It's okay, I can do it myself." She strokes your hair behind your ears.

"Nat, I don't care what your dad thinks. I'm really proud of you and I'm happy to be your girlfriend" The way she smiles at you makes your heart warm and race.

"Thank you, Malyshka. I'm lucky to have you as my girlfriend," you kissed her, your hands pulling her closer, legs around her waist. "Detka, you have to let me go, otherwise we'll have to stay here forever.

"I'll stay." You wanted to tell her that you loved her, but you were too afraid of being rejected or of her not feeling the same, so you backed off, you didn't want to ruin this.

You just didn't know that the redhead felt the same way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#wandanatw0rld #fanfic #x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #scarlett johansson #beefy natasha

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bonzirelle · 22 days ago

Text

Far From Love

paring: non idol!Lee Minho x reader

genre: angst

warnings: cursing, pet names(reader is called ‘baby’ once) mentions of sex but none actually written(hope i explained that right🤞🏾) Minho is mean here.

summary: you and Minho aren’t a couple and that’s been established many times through long arguments. So why is he acting so cold towards you after seeing you with another man?

dolle’s note: first time writing angst..hope i did good…!

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You’re relationship with Minho isn’t exactly one that your friends or parents approve of. Hell, you didn’t even approve of it at first. It’s just..complicated. You guys aren’t dating—that’s for sure, you guys have sex, stay up late together and kiss like a couple, but you both knew you guys were far from being a couple.

Along with these..intimate moments come with lots of arguments, really big arguments that leave you devastated over and over again every single time even though you’ve been through this for months. Every time is just more heartbreaking for you, but Minho isn’t even effected by these arguments anymore. Maybe it’s because he always starts them and still finds a way to blame you for everything.

Even after all of these screaming matches, hurtful words and deep words you always end up in the same place at the end of the night. laid flat on his black sheets, naked and needy for what he can give you. Both of you were aware that nothing about this was healthy and you were destroying each other, but he was like a drug to you. You just kept going back.

Maybe that’s why you’re waiting outside of his door in the middle of the night. Usually, you would have been asleep right now considering it was 1:32 am but you knew Minho was awake and you needed someone to talk to, someone that will listen to you. Seconds passed and you were about to turn around and go back to your car, but before you can turn around the door swung open.

“What’re you doin’ here? It’s late.” He sounded pissed off. That wasn’t new to you.

“I wanted to talk.”

There wasn’t lots of regular talking between you too. Just dirty or mean words most of the time, but when you two did just have normal talks you felt like you knew who he really was. After a couple of seconds of him staring at you he finally lets you in. You two went upstairs to his room, the one you’ve had restless nights in.

“Why’re you actually here, ‘cause I know you aren’t here to ‘just talk’. I’m not stupid.”

“I did just wanna talk, Minho. Not everything is always about sex between us.” As you replied to his words you roll your eyes. You seem to do that a lot when Minho talks.

A scoff falls from his lips at your words. “Uh, yes it is. That’s literally all we are, fuck-buddies. Thought that was established a while ago.”

You don’t know why but you felt pain in you at his words. “That’s really all you think of us, Minho?”

“Why wouldn’t I? We aren’t dating or anything and we never have.”

Maybe he was right. You two have never really acted like a couple. There was no hand holding, no gentle kisses and there definitely wasn’t any ‘i love you’s exchanged between you two at any point in this fucked up relationship you two have. There was never anything fond in any of his touches. Just lust filled and rough, exactly like his personality.

“What? You thought we were dating? God, you really gotta get your definitions in order.”

Why was he acting so cold towards you today? You two haven’t even talked in a few weeks. Maybe he’s just stressed out right now because you haven’t done anything to him. It hurt you, to be frank. He was just being mean to you out of nowhere and it was unfair to you.

“If you want a relationship go talk to that guy you were hanging out with all night.”

Just as he was about to go lie down on his bed you called him back. Now you knew what all of this was about. You never really took Minho for the jealous type. Possessive? Yes. Jealous. No. Wow, this night was just full of surprises.

“Wait, is that why you’re acting to mean towards me? Over a fucking picture?”

“Yeah, over a picture. You’re out here in small dresses with all of these men, probably getting passed around.”

Now this was just flabbergasting. First he’s laughing at you because you thought you guys were in a relationship, now he’s admitting that it pisses him off when you’re around other men. Men are really confusing.

“Why does it make you so mad anyway? It shouldn’t matter to you.” You figured that he was just being insecure which didn’t make any sense since you guys aren’t together.

“It matters so much because you’re at some club looking like a whore, then coming here asking to talk nights later. You just love to fuck around with men don’t you?”

“You have some fucking nerve calling me a whore. You’ve had more girlfriend’s and talking stages in one year then i have had in half of my life!” Minho was never one to just settle down with a girl, he never has.

“You’re so..cold hearted, you don’t care about the others you hurt.” That’s something you both knew but never really talked about other than through very small gestures.

You don’t know why you’re still here in his home. You don’t know why you’re still here in this messed up relationship with him. Nothing about him was comforting to you and by the looks of it, nothing ever will be. You’ve sought comfort for a while, you just want the reassurance. You don’t need long nights and days to talk, you just want someone to hold you in their arms.

“Do you want me to cradle you now? You want me to comfort you? Wake up, no one cares and no one ever has.” His words hurt more than they should have and he knew it. That’s the only reason why he actually said it.

“You’re so full of shit, you’re a selfish asshole!”

“Preach it to me, baby.”

By now you guys would have already been kissing and ripping your clothes off of each other. But this time you weren’t going for it, you didn’t want this anymore. You didn’t want to deal with him or his bullshit anymore, it wasn’t good for you.

“I’m leaving. Don’t contact me, Minho. Block me, delete my number. Do whatever you she to do in order to never talk to me again.”

While you were walking downstairs you wished he would’ve ran down and tried to stop you but of course he didn’t. Why would he? He only cares about himself and doesn’t think about how he hurts others. That’s what always stayed the same in what you two had. When you stepped outside you practically ran to your car as warm tears began to roll down your cheeks. You drove home with watery eyes and millions of things on your mind all at one time.

Maybe your friends were right. Maybe he was always bad for you. Yeah. They were always right, you were just too deep into the hole to see it. The only thing you saw was someone who could help you while all he saw was someone to relieve his stress. By now you would’ve been on the bed getting pounded into, it was always the same routine with him.

But not tonight. Tonight, you walked away before he could touch you. No begging, no glances back, no pretending it meant anything. The silence on your phone didn’t scare you anymore—it felt like peace. Maybe heartbreak wasn’t as loud as people said. Maybe it was quiet, like breathing again after holding it in for too long. And maybe, just maybe..you’d finally stop mistaking pain for comfort.

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#skz stay #skz fanfic #skz x reader #lee know #lee minho #stray kids minho #stray kids #skz imagines #angst #skz angst #bonzirelle

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inkivaari · 1 month ago

Note

omg it can be anything u want just.. i always see people making conquest call reader kitten (for obvious reason hehe) but . could u ✍️ puppy reader…. like.. puppy pet names & stuff ..

YES ANON YES OF COURSE

𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝'𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚢

disclaimers: sexual content, f! reader, i feel like disclaimers atp for conquest are sorta unnecessary, y'all KNOW what's coming next by now

conquest loves his sweet little puppy so much!! always so happy to see him, wriggling all over him, covering his face with those sweet kisses, nuzzling him with that sweet little nose, you get so excited when he comes to see you when he leaves for a while, he'd feel bad for not taking you to watch him take over planets if not for how happy you get when he comes back! what? he's selfish at his core, it feeds his ego.

his puppy always wants to play with him, always full of excess energy. he starts out gentle, he really tries to limit his strength so he can tire you out safely. he's been teaching you good techniques though, when it comes to wrestling. he's gotta get his puppy's bite just as good as her bark, after all. he teaches you how to grab, how to wiggle out of one, how to dodge, how to use that agile little body against big tough guys like him. i stress like him: there's no way you're beating that man any day. he loves seeing you try! encourages it!

'there you go, baby! yes, just like that, just how i showed you!'

when you've got your thighs on either side of his head in a firm lock and are trying to pull him down. of course he's not going anywhere, pouting at you when you whine with frustruation.

'awww, poor puppy... gonna have to try harder than that...'

when he's fed up with seeing you struggle, he'll take charge. pin you down beneath him, even if it means grabbing you from his back and slamming you down. don't worry, he won't let you hit the floor (he learned the first time that that'll break a rib-), he has you wrapped tightly in his arms against his chest, and he lets you bark and howl as he holds you down, flipping you onto your belly with your hands held firm behind your back, preventing your escape as he leans down to rumble beside your ear...

'we done here, puppy? or you got anything else to prove to your master?'

like clockwork, you raise and wiggle that little ass, like a bitch in heat, on her haunches. he purrs low in his chest with approval, lifts that little skirt, or even better, rips those jeans apart...

of course his favourite position is doggy. cmon. it does require a bit of skillful angling, he's so big after all... he's leaning over you, his chest flush with your arched back, he's growling and grunting while you whine and fuss beneath him, bucking back against his hips for a harder, deeper fuck... that's his puppy, thinking she's a big girl, that she can take a pounding like a wild she-wolf... ohhhhhh, the discipline that goes into keeping a sweet girl like you safe and in one piece...

he considers giving his puppy some little pups of her own so she has something to take care of when he's away... but he thinks better of it when he holds you at night, holds you in his arms as you snore softly, your body limp and vulnerable against his bare chest, letting out a soft yip or a chuff in your dreams... his puppy still had some things to work out for herself. he still had plenty to teach you, to toughen you up for when things would get hard, if the empire ever found out about his precious little pup he'd been taking care of... no, he would never allow anything to happen to you. you would be safe, you would be spoiled... and that brave little heart of yours would be indulged by him forever <3

why did i highkey get a little sad about this

:(((((( PUPPY READER SUPREMACY I DECLARE IT NOW series potential guys pls drop me some ideas in the inbox let's get it

#conquest x reader #conquest smut #conquest x you #old man lust #invincible #invincible smut #puppy! reader #soft old man is a must #need to be held #woofs nicely

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cece693 · 2 months ago

Text

I'm not ignoring your requests, but I just have so many to get through that sometimes I want a small break. And that's when this idea came to mind: what if Hannibal only tolerated Franklyn if there was a more interesting figure during his therapy sessions? I can make this into a short series if you'd like, I have so many ideas of how this can end.

Bound by Obsession

pairing: hannibal lecter x male reader tags: you find Hannibal creepy, rightfully so, Franklyn is oblivious and seeking hannibal's approval like always, kidnapping, mentions of Stockholm Syndrome

From the moment you first stepped foot into Dr. Hannibal Lecter’s office, you sensed something was off. You blamed the subtle hush in the air and the impeccable décor—tasteful lamps, pristine leather armchairs, and delicately arranged artwork that felt more like exhibits than comforting décor. But deep down, you knew it was the way Dr. Lecter’s gaze lingered on you.

Franklyn had introduced you to the psychiatrist weeks ago, insisting you accompany him to his therapy sessions for “moral support.” He was your cousin—a persistently anxious, overly enthusiastic man—and you were the only family member who still bothered to show up in his life with any consistency. So you went, believing you’d sit quietly in the waiting room while Franklyn poured out his insecurities to this reputedly brilliant psychiatrist. But that first session, Franklyn all but dragged you inside.

“No, no, you should meet him properly,” he’d insisted with a bright grin, eyes shining. “He’s the one person who really gets me, you know? It’ll help if you’re there.”

Against your better judgment, you obliged.

Dr. Lecter was polite—astonishingly so. He asked after your work, your daily routines, and the nature of your relationship to Franklyn. Whenever your cousin prattled about how kind you were, Hannibal’s dark, steady gaze would fix upon you. It felt clinical, as though he were dissecting the smallest shift in your posture or the faintest quiver in your voice. “Family is a profound bond,” he’d remarked in that smooth voice of his. “Would you say that sense of duty compels you to attend these sessions?”

You’d shrugged awkwardly, more keenly aware of his attention than you wanted to admit. “Something like that,” you’d replied. A near-smile traced his features before he returned his focus to Franklyn’s open eagerness. Yet you couldn’t ignore the undercurrent in his eyes.

Over the next few weeks, the routine solidified: you accompanied Franklyn, sat through his half-hour of swirling anxious chatter, and then quietly excused yourself to the waiting area or to the office corner. But with each passing session, Dr. Lecter’s questions seemed to inch closer to you—what you liked to read, how you handled stress, what your upbringing was like. More disturbingly, Franklyn fed him answers. He was so desperate for Lecter’s approval and “friendship” that he eagerly offered details about you: your favorite foods, anecdotes of your school days, your social life (or lack thereof).

You felt you had no control over these intimate tidbits being tossed around like conversation starters. More than once, you shot Franklyn a glare when he’d start rattling off personal details you’d never authorized him to share. Yet Hannibal only nodded calmly, occasionally turning those dark eyes on you with an unreadable expression—some combination of fascination and smug certainty.

The more you noticed his quiet scrutiny, the more it unsettled you. There was a tension in Dr. Lecter’s presence—like a coiled spring. He was polite, charming even, but you couldn’t dispel the prickle of alarm that raced along your spine whenever he stepped closer. One evening, after you and Franklyn exited the office, you cornered your cousin in the hallway.

“Enough,” you hissed under your breath. “I’m not coming back. I’m sorry, but I can’t keep doing this.”

Franklyn blinked, crestfallen. “What—why? Hannibal likes when you’re there. I can tell. It helps our sessions go smoother. He even told me how grounded you are.”

“That’s exactly why it’s weird,” you muttered, fighting a shudder. “He’s too interested in me. And it’s making me uncomfortable.”

Franklyn’s face fell, stricken. “Please, you can’t leave me to do this alone. He’s—he’s my friend, but I need you there. You stabilize me. Hannibal notices that, too!" Exasperated, you relented for two more sessions—just two. And after that, you were done for good.

Those two final sessions were excruciating. You felt Dr. Lecter’s attention on you like a beam of heat, though he remained outwardly composed. Franklyn was delighted with your continued presence; he bragged to Hannibal about some upcoming dinner party, how he’d love for them to meet outside the office. Hannibal responded with perfect courtesy, but beneath that polished veneer, you sensed he was attuned to your every breath.

At the end of the second session, you managed to slip away quickly. Franklyn badgered you outside the building, hands gesticulating as he tried to persuade you to stay on indefinitely.

“You and Hannibal—there’s some sort of connection,” Franklyn insisted, missing the mark in a spectacularly naive way. “He’s so curious about you! If you just gave him a chance—”

“That’s exactly the problem,” you cut in. “I’m done. I’m sorry, but I can’t keep going. This is it. No more.”

Franklyn hung his head, but you didn’t waver.

You stayed true to your word. The following week, you did not accompany Franklyn. Nor the week after. Franklyn’s messages piled up on your phone, growing in urgency.

“Hannibal was asking about you—where you’ve been, if you’re okay…”

“Please come, just one more time?”

“He’s so disappointed you’re not around!”

You left them all on read, your resolve firm. The sensation of Hannibal Lecter’s stare had haunted you enough. For a brief moment, you actually relaxed. Without those sessions, you felt your tension loosen. No more forced small talk, no more dissecting looks, no more sense of being cornered by a cunning intellect that seemed to see too much.

But that comfort was short-lived.

Rain pattered on the pavement as you hurried from your car to your apartment building. Lightning illuminated the street in fleeting flashes. You fumbled for your keys, hyper-aware of every rustle of the wind. Suddenly, there was a hand on your shoulder. You whirled, adrenaline rushing—only to find a soaked figure in a dark coat: Dr. Hannibal Lecter. His eyes, even in the dimness, glinted with an intensity that seized your breath.

“Doctor—?” you began, stepping back. “What are you—?”

Before you could finish, he pressed a cloth to your face, the sharp smell of chemicals overwhelming you. You struggled, lurching away, but he held you in an iron grip. The world spun, your vision tunneling, your thoughts scattering. Then everything went dark.

You woke slowly, your head heavy and your body weak. A metallic tang coated your mouth. Panic hit like a jolt of electricity when you realized you couldn’t move your arms—or your legs. Breathing hard, you blinked the haze away and found yourself in a softly lit room. It was tastefully furnished, reminiscent of Hannibal’s style: all refined elegance, from the plush rug under the chair you were bound to, to the delicate arrangement of a small side table.

And there he stood, watching you with a calm, almost gentle expression.

You tried to shout, to demand an explanation, but your throat was too dry; it came out as a ragged gasp instead. He stepped forward with measured grace, holding a glass of water. “You’ll feel better if you drink,” he said softly.

You wrenched your head aside. “What the hell is this?” you croaked, voice shaking. “Untie me!”

A flicker of emotion—something dark and fervent—rose in Hannibal’s eyes. “I’m afraid I can’t,” he answered smoothly. “You left me little choice. You were slipping away.”

Your stomach lurched. “You can’t do this,” you rasped. “It’s illegal, it’s—insane!”

He inclined his head, strangely tranquil. “Perhaps by society’s standards. But I’ve never been one to confine myself to such limitations.” Desperation flooded you, and you yanked at the restraints, trying to break free. The cords, however expertly tied, held firm.

“You’ve lost your mind. If you think I’m just going to sit here and wait for you to kill me—”

Hannibal bent slightly toward you, voice soft but unyielding. “I have no intention of harming you,” he murmured. “On the contrary, I want you here, safe, under my protection. You and I both know there is something between us.”

You shivered, disgust and fear twisting together. “That’s your delusion,” you spat. “Just let me leave. I’ll never speak of this if you just—”

He gently shook his head. “And lose you all over again? I don’t think so. Perhaps you’d return to that hollow life, insisting you feel nothing. Eventually, you might even believe it. But the connection we share is undeniable.”

Your chest heaved, tears pricking behind your eyes. “That’s not a connection; it’s obsession. You’ve kidnapped me!”

Hannibal’s composure wavered, only for a fraction of a second, revealing a flare of frustration. “You needed a direct demonstration of how much I care,” he said, voice like satin over steel. “You’ll resent me now, yes. That is understandable. But with time, you’ll see the devotion behind this act.”

“Devotion?” Your voice cracked on a bitter laugh. “You’re sick.”

He took a measured breath, regaining his poise. “One might call it an extreme, but many forms of love could be deemed pathological. So often, we label such bonds in neat categories—Stendhal Syndrome, Lima Syndrome, Stockholm Syndrome—but ultimately, these terms only describe how two souls adapt to captivity, to closeness.”

He leaned forward, hands clasped behind his back. “In time, you’ll realize I’m the only person who truly sees you. I will provide everything you need. Shelter. Sustenance. Comfort. That is not sickness, but a profound intimacy.”

You stared at him, a flicker of horror coiling in your gut. “You can’t just…make me love you.”

Hannibal tilted his head, a trace of pity in his gaze. “Not make, no. But I can help you see that you already love me in your own way. Stripped of outside influences—Franklyn’s pushiness, your own fear—you’ll find solace with me. There is no reason to deny what must be.”

Your eyes burned with tears you refused to shed. This man stood before you in calm certainty, weaving his rationale for holding you prisoner like it was the most natural thing in the world. He reached out, touching your cheek with the back of his fingers, a gesture that made you recoil. His lips curved in a gentle, almost sorrowful smile as he withdrew his hand.

“I expect you to fight,” he said, voice hushed. “That’s part of human nature. But eventually, acceptance will soothe your pain. My methods may be unconventional, but in time, you’ll understand that everything I’ve done is in service to what we could share.”

Your breath rattled in your chest, part of you screaming to keep resisting, to never surrender. But another part—terrified, uncertain—couldn’t ignore the chilling inevitability in his words. His unwavering belief that this was right threatened to unravel your hope. Fury warred with fear. Yet as Hannibal gently dabbed at your temples, as if tending to a faint bruise, you realized he’d planned every detail with excruciating precision. You were truly at his mercy.

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damnfeelings09 · 4 months ago

Text

DNA - Shadow's version

A.N: Hey! just so you know, this is pt. 2 of E.T

“Does he tell you he loves you when you least expect it? Does he flutter your heart when he kisses your neck?”

They had approved Shadow for field missions. The presentation at the HAR training center and the fact that he had healed so quickly had convinced Commander Hillsprung that it was time to explore his abilities. The first mission was merely for reconnaissance. They would send Shadow to Prison Island, the GUN research cradle that had been destroyed years ago, or at least that’s what they thought until they started receiving signs of life two weeks ago. You were happy; Shadow wouldn’t be locked up in those four walls 24/7 anymore, but that also meant you wouldn’t see him anymore. Your role in the investigation was complete, and your services were no longer needed. Now, they would focus solely on military training.

“and my heart won't beat again If I can't feel him in my veins” A month had passed since the last interaction you had with Shadow, the memory of his kiss still fresh in your mind. How you managed to attend, check patients, clear medical records, and keep the GUN clinic’s inventory was still a mystery to you. You’d only crossed paths with the hedgehog twice.

“And he just takes my breath away B-b-b-breath away I feel it every day And that's what makes a man Not hard to understand”

The first time was when you were on your way to the clinic after registering your entry. Shadow was walking with a group of soldiers, a bat named Rouge, and a giant robot. For a second, he looked at you, stopped as if he wanted to walk towards you, but his companions called him to leave the building. Oh how you wished he had come and get you. It was inexplicable what he caused in you, a feeling so foreign.

“Nothing more to say It's in his D-D-D-D-DNA”

The second time was when you were having lunch, sitting in the GUN garden while reviewing the Gamma team's follow-up studies. He walked right in front of you, not paying attention to you. You wouldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt, but what else did you expect? Now Shadow was a GUN agent, and there was no time for anything else. Still, how would you explain to your body what was happening? How could you make it understand that you weren’t in danger and stop the tachycardia before your heart ran out of your chest after him? It didn’t make sense. You had only kissed once, so why couldn’t you forget it?

“Fingerprints that leave me covered for days, yeah, hey, yeah Now I don't have any first degree But I know, what he does to me”

Friday night, you were finishing the paperwork for the week. The fatigue and stress were killing your shoulders, and you were ready to go home. You turned off the light in the office and were about to close the door when a loud noise made you open it again. There was a mess; your stationery shelf was on the floor, and surgical clamps were scattered everywhere. You followed the trail of chaos and found the black hedgehog leaning on the examination table, with one of his hands covering his left arm.

“What the heck… Shadow?”

“I’m glad to see you too, doc”. Shadow looked tired, dust all over his fur. He glanced behind you, acknowledging the mess he had made “Sorry”. he said, shaking his head toward the papers on the floor.

“What happened?” you asked, approaching slowly, moving cautiously as if you feared breaking something fragile, but at the same time, you didn’t want to pull away from him. You knew what that small gesture of closeness meant for both of you, and although you tried to stay professional, you couldn’t help but feel the proximity between you two as something more “Weren’t you supposed to be on a mission?”

“Tch, ‘ve been in Prison Island, for three days. It wasn’t my best moment, I must admit, I underestimated the area.” – He removed his hand, revealing an arrowhead embedded in his flesh. You quickly asked him to get on the table while you gathered the necessary tools to remove the object.

Although Shadow wasn’t bleeding, he wasn’t regenerating as he usually did either. You took the Kelly clamps and carefully removed each piece of the material, placing it in a jar for reaserch. You could feel his intense gaze on each of your movements, his warm breath making your bangs fall over your eyes. Your hands trembled as you remembered the last time you both had been so close. Trying to shake those thoughts from your mind, you looked up, only to find his pure red eyes staring at you, examining you.

“Perfect in every way I see it in his face Nothing more to say”

“I don’t think that’s true,” you said, looking away to return to your task of bandaging the wound. “I’ve seen you, even with your eyes covered and hands behind your back, you can feel danger from miles away.” Shadow sighed, turning his face toward the wall. “I did it for you. I wanted to see you.” Your heart skipped a beat, almost dropping the extra gauze in your hands. Shadow’s hand gently positioned itself under your chin, lifting your face so your eyes met. With every passing second, your cheeks felt hotter and hotter.

“It's all about his kiss Contaminates my lips”

“I missed you,” Shadow said. His voice as soft as velvet, enveloping your ears in a delightful way. At that moment, it felt as though the world had stopped existing, like a bubble surrounding you both, a little world where it was true that the ultimate lifeform, had fall for you. The glow in his eyes was hypnotizing as they moved from your eyes to your lips over and over again. Oh, how you wished he would take the first step, that he would press his lips to yours once again. You longed for the sensation, the pressure of his lips on yours. Shadow had the power to make your legs turn to jelly with just a glance, and how you loved it when he looked at you. The hedgehog slightly curved the corner of his lips, probably reading your thoughts, slowly getting closer to you, shortening the distance between you more and more. In a moment of clarity, you pulled away from him.

“Our energy connects It's simple genetics”

“Wait,” you said. – “This can’t be. We are… coworkers. If anyone finds out about this, all of GUN will come after us.” You lowered your gaze, a silent tear running down your right cheek. Shadow stood up from the table, now a bit taller than you. He grabbed your shoulders and faced you. “To hell with GUN and the planet. Nothing matters if you’re not with me.” His voice was fierce, the fire lighting up his eyes. It was then that you stopped resisting the desire of your heart and gave in to him. Shadow initiated the contact, placing his lips on yours.

“I'm the X to his Y It's the color of his eyes”

You had never been struck by lightning, but you were pretty sure this was what it felt like. Thousands of volts instantly running through every inch of your body as Shadow wrapped his arms around your waist. Your hands searching for the crook of his neck deepening the kiss. A warm sensation like tingling crossing your fingers. Orange sparks coming out of Shadow's quills, small electric currents making their way through his fur looking for a home.

“He can do no wrong No, he don't need to try” His tongue breaking through your lips, linking with yours, starting a battle you could not win. It was intense, both trying to devour each other's mouth. His grip becoming stronger at your waist, you could feel the vibrations of his body with the little moans that Shadow released. The ecstasy of the moment only equated to the energy accumulating between you, going from being soft, light and warm to a stronger discharge, a feeling that did not cause damage, but if it activated every fiber of your being, as if all you needed to live was this… was him. Little by little strands of your hair were lifted thanks to the static between you. The tips of your fingers curving inwards product of electricity.

The lack of air causes you to pull away from him, taking a deep breath, gasping, feeling the relief fill your lungs. You watch him, his quills raised, the reddish tips glowing under the light of the lamp. How can he look even more handsome like this? A few seconds later, Shadow is once again devouring your lips, your chest hitting against his firm one, holding you, the cold of his inhibition rings sneaking down your back. His canines fit gently into your lower lip causing a groan on your part, and a growl makes Shadow’s chest vibrate

“Made from the best He passes all the tests”

Suddenly, the tips of your fingers burn, the stings causing small burns, your heart races uncontrollably, and you could swear it will stop at any moment, but it wouldn’t matter if you died of a heart attack in the middle of the kiss.

“Got my heart beating fast It's cardiac arrest”

It was too much, the emotions, the beating of your hearts, the taste of your lips. Shadow’s spikes channeled all that energy, illuminating his body with a reddish-orange hue like the sunset, the pressure accumulating in the air. In a second, a spark flashes, the atmosphere seems to compress, as if everything were about to break. Then, a blinding flash lights up the surroundings, and the sound of the explosion is deafening. The reddish light overflows, sweeping everything in its path, each of the lights in the office exploding, leaving the entire city in darkness.

“What the hell…? Did you do that?” you ask incredulously to the hedgehog who has you trapped in his arms.

“Well, you made me,” he whispers. You couldn’t see him clearly, but you knew, from the tone of his voice, that a big, mocking, triumphant smile was spreading across his face.

“He's from a different strain That science can't explain I guess that's how he's made In his D-D-D-DNA”

#shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #shadow fanfic #shadow the hedeghog #shadow the hedgehog #sth au #mobian x human #sonic fanfiction #shadow #sth #shadowxhumanreader #DNAShadowversion

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thesongoficeandfir3 · 4 months ago

Text

Dark!Aegon i x reader

A/n: 18+ ONLY! reader is a Baratheon but race is NOT mentioned however the reader does have the features of a Baratheon (blue eyes and black hair), reader is female with female anatomy

Warnings: SMUT, DC, power imbalance, age gap (reader is of age), innocence kink? Lmk if I missed any

Would rate 🖤 out of three on dark scale

Would rate 🌶️🌶️ out of five on smut scale

This is my first time writhing smut so sorry if it’s shit 🙃

Might do a dark Maegor or Young Tywin next

- Aegon had always prided himself as being a good man or more so a good man if compared to the many of the corrupt men in Westeros

- He would believe he did not have any darkness in him however, this resolve started to crumble when he met you.

- You were married to one of your father’s vassal houses and had a son however, your husband died fighting one of the many battles in attempt to take over Dorne, and due to the laws your son was sent to live with his paternal family thus leaving you alone once again like before getting married.

- You were still young and fertile and it was not uncommon for a highborn widow to be married again, thus why Orys decided to bring you to the capital where he spent so much time being the king’s hand. The capital always had highborns coming in and out so it was a possibility one of them may be your new husband

- When Aegon first saw you, he immediately was enticed by your beauty. Your hair as dark as the soils of Highgarden flowing down your back, sitting atop your head your mother’s sapphire diadem brought even more attention to your blue eyes, and the gold and black gown you wore clinging to your body beautifully

- He burned the image into his brain the way you nervously dipped your head down when meeting him, your blue eyes scanning his face desperate for his approval. It was almost comical to him how opposite you were to Orys, who was the embodiment of your house sigil as large and intimidating as a stag whereas you looked more like a fawn about to be slaughtered by its prey but he found it amusing none the less

- You would be in KL for many weeks but his obsession would be nothing more than a small flame, simply just admiring you from afar, but the small flame would turn into a roaring blaze when he saw you taking care of his son Aenys.

- You often found yourself alone and bored in the Redkeep since you hardly knew anyone there, so to keep you occupied your father arranged for you to take care of Aenys who was only a babe. You did miss taking care of your son who was now with his father’s family, so it was a sweet reminder

- One day after a stressful meeting Aegon was headed to his chambers for a much needed bath when he passed you in the gardens rocking and singing to a giggling Aenys, all the anger and stress vanished in an instant and calmness washed over him. It had been so long since he felt that way almost forgetting the feeling. That day he also felt a switch within him and a strong desire to keep seeing you like that

- He couldn’t help but use the same power he prided himself not abusing to abuse it to keep seeing you do that. He ordered that you become the sole caretaker and wet nurse to Aenys, making claims that the babe was so much calmer in your presence. You were so blinded by the fact that you missed your own son to see how odd his decision was

- Aegon was swift and discrete in chasing away any potential suitors who looked your way, also giving your father, his hand, more work than usual in attempt for him not to notice how much time the king spent with his daughter

- Convincing you to put Aeny’s crib in your room claiming it would be easier for you to take care of him, but it was more for him being able to walk into your chambers whenever he wishes and he could easily hide his reasoning just wanting to see his son

- When you start to feed Aenys, Aegon would often be nearby, watching with a mixture of peace and lust within him. The peaceful feeling coming from the knowledge that you are providing life-sustaining nourishment for his heir and the lustful feeling coming from what if you continued being the one to nurture and further his bloodline

- He would continue to stare when you place the babe down, your chest momentarily still exposed as you prioritize making Aenys comfortable first before fixing yourself. He would start to daydreaming what it would be like for you to be under him bare like that as his seed dripped from you after he’d taken you

- Things were going well for him soon enough suitors stopped talking with your father about potential proposals and you were always so obedient at his side without protest or rather you didn’t think you were allowed to.

- Panic starts to rise in Aegon when one day while having a drink, Orys mentions he wants to take you back to Storm’s End since he can’t find a match for you here, whereas in Storm’s End there was already possibility of three lords.

- That night Aegon summoned you to his chamber during the hour of the wolf you were about to grab his son thinking Aegon wanted to see him as that was always the case, but but the maid who called for you stopped you and said he only wanted to see you. You were extremely confused but obeyed the king’s command not having the slightest clue what was to happen.

NSFW below 18+ ONLY

You let out a strained gasp and whimper as Aegon’s body was pressed on top of you thrusting himself into you without warning. He squeezes his eyes shut at the way your walls immediately tighten around him making his brain turn into mush. He tries desperately to regain control of his spinning mind, burying his face into your neck and mumbling out calming words and hushes in a poor attempt to calm you as well as regain control of himself.

His body shakes as he tries his best not to thrust himself into you again for he knew if he did he’ll be finished before you two even get anywhere. You then hear him mumbling something over and over again in what you assumed was his mother tongue. Fortunately for you his temporary lack of movement allowed you to get used to his size but you still couldn’t help the soft whimper that slip past your lips.

His platinum blond hair already slick with sweat sticking to his forehead and pressing against your jaw.

He then slightly raised his head, his dark violet eyes scanning your features devouring you with just one look that made you feel butterflies in your stomach. It didn’t help when he moves a hand to caress your cheek, the feeling of it was callous due to the years of wielding blackfyre.

“Are you ready to please your king?” He says through a husky voice.

“Y-yes” you squeak out, surprising yourself with how high an octave your voice went.

With the conformation he doesn’t hesitate to begin rocking himself into immediately finding a rhythm. His movements fast yet calculated, as he was with most things in his life.

You nearly choked on your spit as your body involuntarily sucked in sharply the feeling of ecstasy being new to you. The few times you did lay with your now deceased husband was uncomfortable and quick as he valued his own pleasure over your own. Mewls and incoherent words start to slip past your lips. Embarrassed by this you slap your mouth shut with your hands but Aegon is quick to stop that.

Using one hands to keep himself propped up, he uses the other to restrain your arms above your head. He then rest his forhead on yours, his breathing coming out in pants as he continues his movements.

“You look so beautiful taking care of my sweet boy” he says between strained grunts “he needs a mother badly, he needs you to be the mother he lost” he says almost desperately his pace picking up

You hardly registered his words your back arches aching to meet his increased paced all you could get out was a ‘yes my king’ through a broken moan

Aegon can feel himself getting closer and buried his face back to your neck the sound of his grunts increasing.

“No, call me by my name.” He manages to say through them.

“Aegon” you say almost uncertain and soft, the word being foreign to you as you’ve gotten too used to calling him my king or your highness.

The volume dissatisfied him so he moves the hand that was restraining you bringing it down to your bud rubbing against it in a circular motion with his fingers to cause more friction along with his slamming hips.

“You will call me by my name when we are like this… You will scream it while I take you as mine” he says it like a command his tone booming with authority, a sharp reminder you were truly being taken by the king.

At the sudden added friction his name leave your lips faster than you can think it in a loud and desperate moan followed by curses no highborn lady should ever repeat. Yourself a few hours ago before you were summoned to the king’s chambers would be shocked that you had it in yourself to say that.

He lets out a hiss as he forces himself out of you, getting off the bed to stand at the edge of it before grabbing your hips and dragging you to the edge. You were still lying on your back as Aegon stood, preparing to position himself between your legs once more. First taking just a moment to admire you.

You didn’t have the slightest idea how badly Aegon wanted you below him as he pumped you full of himself, how during all those months how he’d dream about every part of you, how his need for you nearly went out of control when he saw you feeding his son motherhood looked so natural on you.

Aegon the cocky bastard knew you would be his eventually he was a conqueror after all, but his first plan was longer and would take time. It was foiled however when one drunk night with Orys, the man said he was going to take you back to Storm’s End as he couldn’t find a single match for you but already found three at your ancestral home.

The conqueror panicked and for the first time he had acted out irrationally. He wished your first time would be at your wedding you wrapped around the black and red cloaks of house Targaryen, a roaring sign of his success.

He is brought back to reality when he feels you arch your back causing your entrance to meet his tip, a moan escaping from the both of you. He grips your hips slamming back into you , his movements a lot more rougher and deeper with the new found stability.

“You should be honored Lady Baratheon, soon enough you will be carrying the seed of the conqueror and bear me many dragons” the headboard slams against the stonewall the loud slams almost challenges the screams of your pleasure and the begging of his name “you will be the queen” his thrust deeper than the last “you will be my queen.”

It doesn’t take long for you both to reach climax, his seed felt warm as it shot inside of you making you shudder. He desperately wanted to stay there but his body jerked and shook to his avail forcing him out.

As you come down from your high realization finally starts to settle in at what you just had done. A widowed woman of your position lying with a man who was not her husband. To fuel to the fire a married man, a married man who was the king. If word got out you would put great shame and mockery upon not only yourself but your house, the house your innocent father had worked so hard to claim.

Aegon senses the shift in your expression and when you try to get up he pushes you back to the soft bed.

“I’m sorry Aeg—, my king but-“ you try to speak out but Aegon silenced you.

“Shhh it’s ok” he mumbles out climbing back on top of you, his limp member rubbing against your sore entrance blood immediately rushing to it causing it to be hard again. “I’ll deal with Orys he’s a prideful man anyways all he’ll see is his blood on the throne so just relax for now” he says completely drunk on lust he’s not even sure of what he’s saying and his movements are sloppy and uncoordinated all he knew was that he needed to feel that over and over again.

#hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon i x reader #aegon the conqueror #aegon the conqueror x reader #dark aegon x reader #dark aegon targaryen #asoiaf x reader #asoiaf x you #dark Aegon i x reader #yandere Aegon x reader #yandere Aegon i x reader #game of thrones x reader #hotd smut #aegon x reader smut

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harlowsbby · 4 months ago

Text

Another trend

(this fic is based off one of those lil viral tik tok trends)

“So what are we doing again? Is this shit going to stress me out again.” Jack sighed as you sat him down in front of your phone.

“I promise it’s something easy just a little trend I saw going around.” Jack rolled his eyes but nonetheless sat down.

Jack wasn’t exactly a fan when it came to all of these new trends you decided to do and try out.

“What’s it about?” He asked and patted the spot next to him for you to sit down which you did.

“Okay so you have to rate different hugs you’d be okay with another guy giving me.” You explained the rules to him.

The minute those words came out of your mouth Jack looked at you like you had two heads growing out of your neck. “Excuse you?” He scoffed.

“You heard me babe.” You stiffed a laugh as he huffed. “Why do you do this to me? I would never be okay with another man hugging you unless it’s me.”

“Oh come on grumpy it’ll be fun I promise. We’re gonna rate the hugs from one to ten with ten being the worse and one being okay.” You explained the general rules to him.

Jack sighed dramatically as you set up the camera. Before you pressed record you made sure the two of you were in the frame.

“Hi guys!” You smiled into the camera as you started your introduction. “Today I’m with Jack and he’ll be rating different hugs he’d be okay with another guy giving me.” You told the fans.

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “Just for the record I would never be okay with this. Just for any guys out there watching this don’t even think about hugging my girl.” He glared into the camera making you giggle.

“Okay, okay let’s start so you tap the screen and the first hug will appear.” He moved his finger to the screen before taping it.

He watched intently as the different positions shuffled across the screen before landing on the first hug. He smiled seeing it was the ‘polite hug’

“Okay we’re starting off right I would actually approve of this hug ima rate this a one.” You rolled your eyes as he placed it to number one and shuffled the hugs again.

“The self hug? Oh so this hug you just hug yourself? shit put that at two.” You put it at two and shuffled the screen again. “The hug at the waist? What the hell he’ll literally be touching you with his dick with this one.”

“Jack!” You laughed as he looked at you in utter shock. “Put that shit at fucking ten that’s the worse one.” He cried out.

“Like look at it he’s literally pressing all up on you. Let me find out you fantasize about shit like this, you trynna cheat on me?” He raised his grows but you paid him no mind and shuffled the hugs again.

“A group hug hmm put that at number three yeah.” Jack clicked his tongue still irritated from the last hug. “A slow dance hug? be fucking serious Y/N.” You giggled.

“What?! You act like I’m out here doing this with a bunch of guys.” He side eyed you before placing that hug at number nine.

“Not the side eye that’s insane.” He huffed. “I don’t know what you do when you’re out running these supposedly errands.”

“The next one is the cuddle hu- Y/N turn this shit off because you got my blood pressure on ten.” You doubled over in laughter as Jack shook his head at you. “Put that shit at eight I guess.”

“The classic hug finally a good one put that at four.” He sighed. “You know we need to do this with you once we’re done. I want to see what hugs you’d be okay with me giving other girls.”

You scoffed. “You ain’t hugging no other girl unless it’s Maggie.” His jaw flew open. “Not the double standards that’s crazy.”

“The next one is the back hug I think the fuck not that’s our thing we do that.” He looked at you the hurt evident in his eyes.

“What?” You raised your hands in defense. “Jack it’s a prank I’m not actually doing this.” You laughed. “Put it at a seven the next one is the resting heads on each other hug? Put that at a six.”

“How many of these do we have left Y/N? I don’t like this game.” You snickered. “Just two left I promise.”

You clicked shuffle again and landed on the eye to eye hug. Jack turned to the side and looked at you and it looks could kill you’d definitely be dead. “Dead ass? The eye to eye hug so you’re looking guys in the eyes now when you hug them you’re just out here cheating on me.��

You chuckled. “Jack it’s a prank! I don’t do this shit.” He clicked his tongue. “You know what let’s do one more and wrap this up because I think we’re gonna need couples therapy after this.”

You giggled and coo’d at him but nonetheless shuffled the hugs one last time you bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from laughing at the final hug.

“The pick pocket hug?! So you just got this man’s whole ass hand in your pocket touching all up on your ass??” Jack was in utter disbelief. “Add another box dammit.” You were a laughing mess at his little crash out moment.

“Y/N I’m being serious add another box because that’s number eleven ain’t no way in hell is another man touching your ass. You know what I’m done with this and I’m done with you.”

Jack stood up and you grabbed his hand trying to pull him back but with him being much stronger he ended up pulling you along with him, you were sitting on the floor as he dragged you along with him as he walked away.

“Jack it’s a joke baby I would never do any of this.” You giggled as the tears started falling from your eyes due to the amount of laughter.

“No I don’t wanna hear it baby at all.” The rest of the night was spent reassuring your big baby of a man that you would never in a million years allow a man to hug on you.

- a few nights later -

“Jack.” You called out for him and smiled when he appeared not even a second later in your shared bedroom.

“Yeah babe?” You watched as he made his way to the bed and took a seat next to you. “You wanna do a little challenge?” He rolled his eyes. “Remember how the last challenge went?”

“This time I promise it won’t be bad.” He sighed. “You always say this Y/N and nine times out of ten it’s always bad, but let me hear it.”

“So this is similar to the rate the hugs but instead of hugs it’s rating what type of different kisses my boyfriend would be okay with me giving to other men.”

Jack’s entire mind went blank he didn’t understand or wasn’t sure on how to process what you just said. “You know what I think ima go.” He said and you giggled as he left out of room, not without slamming the door of course.

(I’m just posting this to clear out my drafts I was planning on deleting this piece but Ima just let this be the last fic I’ll ever post 😭. Anyways I don’t plan on this doing well since it’s dead as fuck on here now but oh well. Whoever reads this I hope you find it funny? 😭 shit idkkk)

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you

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botchedsundoll · 4 months ago

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Ayyy how would re men act if reader introduced them to reader’s family? Would one of them be sweating buckets when reader’s dad just talks to them lpsifkdnfj

L. KENNEDY, C. REDFIELD, C. OLIVEIRA X READER (SEPARATE)

ೃ⁀➷ sypnosis; meeting s/o’s parents hc’s

ೃ⁀➷ warnings; none!

ೃ⁀➷ author’s note; a lil sum short and cute 4 u guys, might b ass i’m so tired and my eyes r half open as im typing this LOL, industrial piercings r no joke tell me y i’ve had this ho like nearly 2 months and managed to accidentally snag it like every single day since

C. OLIVEIRA

not worried in the SLIGHTEST

this man is the definition of charisma, he has absolutely no problem wooing your parents and proving to them that he’s the right man for you

makes sure to bring flowers for your mother, meanwhile probably settling on something alcoholic for your father

by the end of the night i can guarantee you you will lowkey be jealous of your own mother. due to the way your boyfriend keeps speaking to her and complimenting her LOL

you can’t blame him! he’s using his charm to make sure your parents like him enough to approve of your relationship!

oh, if you have any significantly younger siblings they DEFINITELY take a liking to him. the moment he sits down at the table besides you for dinner to start, they are tugging at his arm like crazy trying to get him to shoot nerf guns or play barbies with them. he can’t explain it himself, children seem to love him

the evening is very pleasant, and carlos had definitely gotten the parent approval stamp

now it’s time for you to meet his parents

L. KENNEDY

on the outside, he looks absolutely fine. on the inside, he’s a wreck

yet he manages to hide it so well - from the confident greeting he gives your parents when the door opens, to the way he doesn’t shy away from any questions shot his way about himself or the relationship

but this guy is STRESSING, one wrong word and he feels as though his whole world will come crumbling down - he has to make the best impression on his partner’s parents!

not a single drop of alcohol touches this man’s lips throughout the whole night - he is determined to not make a single slip up which, in his mind, could cause this whole evening to go up in flames

needless to say, he impresses both parties; your parents, by the pure confidence he exudes and how open and down to earth he seems to be, and you, when he tells you on the way home how goddamn scared he was the whole time.

which was absolutely pointless, considering how much your parents seemed to love him. now whenever you’re speaking on the phone with them they can’t help but ask the next time you and leon are making an appearance for dinner

C. REDFIELD

he’s relatively relaxed, not seeming too worried about it at all quite frankly

he knows he can treat you right, he knows he can provide for you and he knows he can and will protect you with his life - he has no doubts he can prove his commitment to you

the one thing he doesn’t know, though, is how welcoming your family are. which completely took him by surprise

he’d sort of imagined it to be very formal and rigid, despite your constant insistence that he’s making up complete bullshit. instead, he’s met with two very open and loving people, eagerly getting to know him and expressing their complete trust in him to keep their child happy

which he did not expect

and that’s why on the way home he’s so damn confused - he’d imagined this to play out a lot differently. that he’d have to somehow prove himself to your parents that he’s capable

your mother can’t stop gushing about him over the phone. to you or her friends.

safe to say, good impression has been made

#ೃ⁀➷. olka’s bs #chris my king i love u #carlos oliveira #carlos oliveira x reader #chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil 3 #resident evil 5 #chris resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil

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iniquitousyearning · 2 years ago

Text

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

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

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

Tags: 18+, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Blackmail, Degradation Kink, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Manipulation, Angst, Violence, Aggression, Blood, TomRiddle, Slapping.

***FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

"Emily, are you sure I look okay?" You said, your voice a mix of stress and anxiety. "Did you get my baby hairs? The ones in the-"

"Yes, I got them." Emily said, cutting you off as she took a few steps back, focusing her attention on your uniform now. "You look perfect. Beyond perfect."

In the soft glow of your dormitory's lamplight, you moved toward the mirror, your reflection illuminated with a warm, golden hue. You released a long, tension filled breath as you eyed your appearance, your Ravenclaw uniform clinging to your form with tailored precision, the royal blue fabric complementing your complexion and accentuating your confidence. The pleats of your skirt fell in perfect symmetry, and your tie was knotted with care, each fold a testament to your attention to detail.

As you met your own eyes in the mirror, your irises sparkled with determination and purpose. Your makeup, subtle yet enhancing, highlighted your features without overshadowing your natural beauty. With a final, approving nod at your reflection, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the meeting ahead. You wanted to make sure that every element of your appearance spoke volumes about your professionalism and attention to detail. Confident and composed, you spun back around, meeting your blonde-haired friend with a subtle smile.

"Emily, I can't express my gratitude enough," you sighed, your voice tinged with a mix of appreciation and unease. "I can't fathom why I'm so terribly nervous about this."

"It's Tom bloody Riddle; anyone would be nervous," Emily replied, her tone holding a touch of amusement as she lounged on her bed, her eyes fixed on you. "You know, he could be really good for you."

Your breath caught in your throat, and your eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I'm just saying," she continued, sensing the growing tension in the room. "It's astonishing how you've spent seven years at Hogwarts without really getting to know him. You and he, you're like kindred spirits--both quiet, effortlessly brilliant...I could see you two hitting it off."

You felt a shiver race down your spine at the very idea, yet you quickly dismissed it with a forced, light-hearted chuckle. "Now, that's quite a leap, my friend."

"Make sure to remind me of my prediction when it comes true," she teased, a smirk dancing on her lips as she stifled her giggles. "Off you go now, don't keep Tom Riddle waiting.”

With a grumble of a goodbye, you took a steadying breath before pushing open the door of your dorm room and entering out into the bustling corridor. The familiar buzz of students filled the air, everyone seemingly lost in their own little world as you briskly made your way down to the library, your stride full of a tense determination. As you finally entered, your eyes scanned the room in search of Tom, and when you spotted him--engrossed in books, his demeanour calm and composed at a table in the far corner; your heart rate involuntarily increased.

But then, you spotted movement out of the corner of your eye--and when you shifted your gaze toward it, your pulse plummeted, heart stopping dead in your chest.

Mattheo Riddle, the man who, in his entire seven years at this school, had ventured into the library fewer times than he could count on one fucking hand--was surrounded by his friends on the far couches, a bright-eyed brunette girl seated dangerously close, her eyes glued to him as if he held the universe in his hands. The scene sent a jolt of conflicting emotions through you--creating a visceral reaction that made you want to retch.

You blinked, unable to believe your eyes, witnessing the source of both your irritation and inexplicable attraction, appearing utterly untroubled amidst his social circle. The sight should have been inconsequential--a mere blip on your radar, considering your vehement dislike for him and everything he's put you through.

Yet, as he met your eyes from across the room, that familiar, breath-stealing, devilish smirk teasing the corners of his perfect fucking lips, it felt like a punch to the gut, a twisting turmoil in your chest that you couldn't quite comprehend.

You knew you shouldn't care about who he was with or what he was doing. After all, you despised him, his arrogance, and the way he seemed to effortlessly entangle you in his web. But the inexplicable pang of jealousy clawed at your insides, leaving you both irritated with yourself and unsettled by the intensity of your emotions.

Trying to shake off the feeling, you clenched your fists, reminding yourself of your purpose here--to meet with Tom Riddle and discuss the mentorship guild. Despite your internal turmoil, you focused on the task at hand, determined to ignore the distractions and maintain your composure, and began to make your way across the room toward Tom.

Straightening your posture, you took a deep breath to steady your nerves. As you approached him, you cleared your throat to announce your presence.

"Mr. Riddle," you greeted, your voice steady despite the chaos inside you. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I've heard great things about the mentorship guild, it's been a longtime goal of mine to be a part of it."

Tom's eyes, a sharp contrast to his brother's, held a depth of intellect that seemed to penetrate your very soul. His appearance was the polar opposite of Mattheo's--clean kept, professional; gelled hair and fresh robes--all attributes you'd never find on his messy haired, couldn't-care-less sibling. Tom regarded you with an assessing gaze, nodding appreciatively.

"I'm pleased you're interested," he replied, his voice smooth and composed. "Let's find a quiet spot to talk, and please, call me Tom."

With those words, you gave him a small smile before following him through the isles of shelves and towards the back of the room, reserved only for quiet studies, leaving the unsettling sight of Mattheo and his entourage behind, unable to ignore the heat of his eyes on you from across the room as you moved. In the hushed confines of the library's quiet study area, you settled into a seat across from Tom, the anticipation of the conversation ahead mingling with a sense of relief.

Away from the prying eyes and distracting presence of Mattheo, you felt a newfound confidence building within you.

"Thank you again for considering me, Tom, you have no idea what this opportunity means to me," you said, your voice steady as you met Tom's gaze. "I've always admired your achievements and your approach to academics. I believe I can learn a great deal under your guidance."

His eyes, a captivating shade of deep brown, held yours in an unwavering gaze. "Please, the pleasure is all mine," he replied, his tone dipped in charm. "I've heard remarkable things about your intellect and dedication, Dumbledore spoke very highly of you. I anticipate our collaboration to be mutually beneficial…I have high hopes for what you can achieve."

Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, and you offered a grateful smile. Encouraged by his words, you felt a surge of motivation. "I'm eager to contribute in any way I can."

Tom's eyes glinted with approval. "That's precisely the attitude we value. With your potential and determination, I have no doubt you'll find your place within our guild."

As the conversation progressed, you found yourself immersed in discussions about your academic aspirations, the guild's objectives, and the various projects they were involved in. With every word, you felt a sense of belonging, as if you had finally found a community where your intellect was not only recognized but celebrated.

As you observed Tom while he spoke, it was clear that he was someone you could relate to on a profound level. Like you, he poured his heart and soul into his studies, the pursuit of knowledge a shared passion. His quiet confidence mirrored your own determination, and his dedication to academic pursuits resonated deeply with your own values.

In Tom, you discovered a like-minded soul, someone who, like you, appreciated the sanctity of the library's quietude and the solace found in the pages of a well-worn book. While Mattheo's antics might overshadow his brother's achievements, you recognized Tom's brilliance as a beacon of inspiration, a reminder that there were others in Hogwarts who shared your unwavering dedication to intellectual pursuits.

As the discussions came to a close, Tom straightened his posture in his chair, adjusting his pristine Slytherin robes.

"It's truly refreshing to meet someone as passionate and driven as you," Tom said, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "I believe you have a lot to offer, and I truly look forward to seeing your potential unfold."

You offered a grateful smile, though his lingering gaze left a trail of warmth beneath your skin. "Thank you, Tom. I'm admittedly quite antsy to prove my dedication."

With a charming smile, Tom leaned over the table toward you slightly, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

"I must admit, I'm not only intrigued by your dedication to intellect," he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "There's something else...something undeniably alluring about you."

"Is that so?" You murmured, head tilting.

His words sparked something inside you that made your pulse increase. You weren't sure what the fuck you were doing right now, but admittedly, you couldn't help yourself. If the Riddle brothers had anything in common outside of their devastating good-looks, it was their effortless bloody charm.

"Indeed, it is," he matched your playful tone, a sly grin playing on his lips. "I'd relish the opportunity to delve deeper into your thoughts...outside of the Thursday evening guild meetings, of course," he said, his eyes glinting with intellectual curiosity. "How about we make it a habit, meeting one-on-one regularly? Tuesday evenings sound splendid, don't you think?"

Internally, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions stirred within you. The idea of regular one-on-one meetings with Tom was undeniably enticing, and would do wonders for your reputation, yet the fear of Mattheo's reaction held you back. As you hesitated, an unsettling vision of Mattheo's disapproving expression flashed in your mind, causing your response to stall.

"I...I appreciate the offer, Tom," you finally managed to say, your voice slightly shaky. "Tuesday evenings should work. I look forward to our discussions."

Your response came out a bit stilted, your internal turmoil seeping into your words, and Tom, ever perceptive, noted your apprehension with a slight eyebrow raise, but clearly chose to dismiss it.

"Wonderful. I look forward to it as well." He said, pushing up from the table and shooting you one last professional nod, "enjoy the rest of your night."

You smiled. "You too, Tom. Thank you.”

And with that, he spun, making his way down the dimly lit isle of the library, your gaze fixated on him until he was entirely out of sight. And once he was, you slumped back in your chair, releasing a stifled breath, acknowledging that his flirtation added a new layer of complexity to the already intricate web of your emotions--but, considering the fact that Mattheo was nothing more than selfish asshole who was currently cuddled up with another girl at this very moment, you refused to wallow in the thought of him any further.

You pushed up from your seat and delved deeper into the library's hushed corridors--the muted ambiance and the scent of old parchment surrounding you as you moved. With purposeful steps, you maneuvered through the labyrinth of bookshelves, gliding down the dim aisle of your choice, your eyes scanning the titles, seeking the specific astronomy book essential for your upcoming exam.

Finally, you came to a halt in front of the S category, your fingers gently tracing the spines as you read their titles, lost in the tranquility of the moment when out of nowhere, a vice-like grip clamped over your mouth, stifling any sound, and you were forcibly pulled backward--your body colliding with a strong, powerful chest, the abrupt impact momentarily jarring your senses.

As the initial shock faded, and the lingering smell of cigarettes and firewhiskey filled your nostrils, calloused palm tightening its hold over your lips, you knew there was only one fucking man that this could be. Mattheo Riddle's unyielding hand muffled any protest, and the fingers on his free hand dug into the wooden shelf beside your head, his silent strength radiating a chilling intensity that left you frozen in fear.

"Playing with fire, aren't you, Raven?" His hot breath danced on your ear as he whispered, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "You know, playing too many little games might get you in trouble, princess..."

Pinned against the shelf, your fingers clung desperately to its edge, seeking stability as your body pressed firmly against the unforgiving wood. Mattheo's presence enveloped you, a low growl escaping him as he tugged your face to the side, pressing your temple against the row of books, his lips grazing your ear--holding you captive like a fragile little bird, ensnared in the coils of the big bad serpent.

"Tuesday nights, huh?" His voice was deeper than you'd ever heard it, your heart pounding in your throat as you realized he'd must have heard your conversation with Tom--and clearly, wasn't very happy about it. "I knew you'd fall for his fucking bullshit, Raven...you seem to have a knack for falling into traps, don't you?"

Rage coursed through your veins, a primal growl building up in your throat as you pressed against his restraining hand, your thoughts ablaze with a multitude of scathing comebacks. The fervent desire to unleash your fury clashed with the harsh reality that he had more to say, leaving you seething in silence.

"You're delusional if you think he's actually fucking interested in you..." he breathed, pressing his lips directly to your ear now. "You're just his new prey...his new little protégé...take you in and make you feel special, just to discard you once he's done with you..."

A chill crawled down your spine, settling in the pit of your stomach like a lead weight. His words stung, and you struggled against his grip, his fingers digging into your skin, reminiscent of a snake coiling around its prey. Despite your attempts to break free, his hold tightened like a serpent constricting its victim, leaving you feeling trapped and vulnerable--involuntarily eliciting a sensation between your thighs you wished to ignore.

"Maybe that's what you want though, huh?" He taunted, voice dripping with disdain. "Maybe I've already ruined you...maybe you like being a little slut so much now that you're willing to throw yourself at anyone who offers..."

Your groan of frustration mingled with a futile attempt to break free, but his grip on your mouth remained unyielding. The hand that had been braced against the shelf now shifted to your hip, anchoring you firmly in place, his touch possessive, commanding--sending shivers down your spine, even in the face of his despicable words. The sheer force of his hold had an intoxicating allure, leaving you trapped in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, unable to fully resist despite your burning anger.

"Do you want to fuck him, Raven?" His voice tightened, twisting your head back further to meet his eyes, the painful angle making you wince, your lids fluttering shut as a result. "No, no. Open those eyes. Look at me."

Your stomach churned with unease, and you reluctantly complied, his fingernails digging into your cheek as he forced you to meet his dark, possessed gaze, the smell of alcohol radiating off his breath.

You swallowed. It was a bloody Thursday--why was he drunk on a fucking Thursday?

"Is that what you want?" He muttered, his voice softening, though his grip remained firm. "Because he's going to try...believe me, he's going to fucking try."

In the vice-like grip of his fingers, you growled low, a surge of irritation coursing through your veins like molten lava. How dare he presume to control your actions, as if he held any genuine concern for your well-being? His selfish motives were as transparent as glass, his only interest lying in your submission to his sexual desires. Meanwhile, he shamelessly paraded his affections for other girls, a cruel reminder of his callousness. There was no way you would yield to his manipulative tactics, your determination burning brighter than ever amidst the storm of his toxic influence.

And with a surge of sheer madness, you bared your teeth beneath his palm, sinking them into his rough flesh with a viciousness that mirrored the intensity of your anger, determined to inflict any pain you could in your struggle for freedom--and as your teeth dug into his skin, he recoiled, a sharp hiss escaping his lips as you tried your hardest to draw blood.

His grip momentarily loosened, allowing you a gasp of precious air before he tightened his hold once more--his eyes, ablaze with a mix of fury and surprise, bore into yours, capturing your defiance and turning it into a challenge. With brutal force, he spun you around, your back colliding with the unforgiving shelf; the impact sending shivers of pain racing through your spine, and the back of your head met the harsh wood with a sickening thud--your vision momentarily blurring, your heartbeat echoing in your ears like a war drum, punctuating the silence of the library with the harsh reminder of your vulnerability in his grip.

Your eyelids flickered, blinking rapidly to clear the haze, unveiling his intoxicated form, a menacing silhouette against the dim light. His eyes, blacker than the midnight sky, bore into your face with predatory focus, dissecting every flicker of emotion that crossed your features. Your eyes widened in sheer shock, somehow just now fixating on the new cut over his nose, dried blood trickling down from his nostrils and staining his chin, throat and uniform like macabre tears.

"Yeah, that's right..." he muttered, grin crawling over his lips, "take a good fucking look, princess."

Trapped beneath his unrelenting palm, you pleaded, your voice barely audible amidst the fear that gripped your throat. Desperately, you tried to shake your head, your eyes widening in horror as the sinking, sickening sensation in your chest deepened.

Your heart raced with dread, praying vehemently that the blood staining him had nothing to do with Tom.

"I warned you," he sneered, his head tilting as he leaned closer, his palm pressing your head back against the shelf with savage force, as if he was anticipating your impending reaction. "I told you exactly what I'd do to him if he fucking tried anything..."

Your heart fell, shattered, and scattered into a million shards on the cold library floor. Anguish surged through you, transforming into a fierce, unyielding determination, and without hesitation, your hand left your side, a trembling force of defiance as it harshly connected with his cheek--sending his face whipping to the side, his messy hair bouncing against his forehead with the impact.

The sharp sound reverberated through the silence of the library, and his grip on your lips faltered just enough to allow you to break free. Before he had a chance to do anything else, you gripped his wrist, holding it in place, your chest heaving with the weight of your emotions.

Your voice trembled with a mix of disbelief and anger, words escaping your lips in a choked whisper. "I can't...I can't fucking believe you," you stammered, your heart pounding in your chest like a frantic drum. "Mattheo, do you even realize what you've done?"

He blinked, his cheek tinged with a rosy hue from the impact of your slap. "Do you?"

"What the fuck do you mean?" Your lungs seized, anger threatening to collapse them. "How the fuck am I supposed to explain why you fought your own brother over me? How the fuck am I going to justify that in any way? We aren't supposed to...we aren't-"

Your words cut through the air, heavy with incredulity and a profound sense of betrayal. The weight of the situation pressed down on you, leaving you at a loss for words as you struggled to comprehend the tangled mess he had created.

"He doesn't know it was over you," he muttered, ripping his wrist from your hold. "It's not the first time I've fought my brother, Raven."

"Oh, so it's just one big coincidence that you suddenly pick a fight with him after he meets with the girl who's been tutoring you one-on-one for the last few months, right Mattheo?" You snapped, your words laced with bitterness and frustration, the tension between you hanging in the air like a storm waiting to unleash its fury. "Do you understand that if anyone fucking finds out about us...literally anyone...my post graduate career is fucking ruined, and all of this has been for absolutely nothing? Do you understand how many rules I've broken, how much I've risked, just to allow you to use me however you’d like? And this is how you repay me?"

With a sudden movement, you brought a hand to his chin--your fingernails biting into the skin of his jaw, the sharp edges of your frustration cutting into him as you held him firmly in place. The intensity of your grip mirrored the storm brewing inside you, the forceful pressure a physical manifestation of your raging emotions.

"You have absolutely no fucking right interfering in on my life like this...not while you're cuddled up with another girl on the couch...not when you've made it clear as day that I'm your fucking toy and nothing more." You seethed, your voice cutting through the air like a knife. "You have no right to paint him as though he's some demon when you haven't once dared to look at your own fucking reflection."

Mattheo's eyes met yours, his usual confidence flickering for just a moment as the weight of your accusation settled upon him. "You have no idea what he's like...you can't-"

"I know what you're like." You hissed, dropping your hand from his jaw. "And not many can be worse than you."

"That's where you're wrong." He retorted, spitting the words through barred teeth. "That's where you're absolutely fucking wrong."

"Admit it, right now, Mattheo." You snarled, words like venom as you spat them off your tongue. "Admit that I'm nothing but your fucking toy, nothing but a naive little slut for you to manipulate...admit that I'm-"

Your words hung in the air, abruptly silenced as Mattheo's vice-like grip clamped onto your jaw, the intensity of his hold promising to leave marks on your skin. He pressed your head back against the shelf, your body stiffening in response to his overpowering force. The heat radiating from his frame enveloped you, intensifying the sense of confinement as his free hand slammed onto the shelf beside your head, adding to the mockery of your helplessness.

"No," he growled, his voice low and intense, the frustration palpable in the air. His grip on your jaw tightened, his fingers digging into your skin, and you winced, the pain jolting through you. "You're fucking not."

"Bullshit," you hissed back, your defiance flaring despite the pressure of his hold.

His eyes narrowed, his gaze locked onto yours with a fiery determination. "If you were just some conquest, just some notch on my bedpost, why the fuck wouldn't I have fucked you already, huh?" His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, the intensity making your stomach twist in knots. "I've had countless chances, Raven...and Merlin knows I fucking want to."

Your voice trembled, the vulnerability seeping through your words like a crack in a dam holding back a tidal wave of emotions. "Want...to...what?"

"Fuck you," he admitted, his grip on your jaw loosening, his confession dripping with both desire and frustration. "I want to fucking rail you, Raven, what the fuck else would I be talking about?"

"But?" you whispered, your voice barely audible, your heart pounding in your chest, desperate for an answer you already fucking knew. "What's stopping you?"

He exhaled, his jaw tensing. "You're a fucking virgin...I've never...I wouldn't feel right if I-"

"Exactly my fucking point," you said, cutting him off, your words slicing through the tension between you. "It wouldn't feel right because I'm just a fucking toy, Mattheo...I'm just a means for you to get your release and then throw away when you're done, what you said just fucking confirms it..please don't stand here and try to pretend otherwise..."

The truth hung in the air, heavy and raw, the silence that followed echoing with the weight of your unspoken feelings, leaving both of you engulfed in a suffocating sense of reality.

"You said you had no interest in taking my virginity." You whispered, reluctantly meeting his eyes. "You fucking said that, before any of this started."

"I know," his throat bobbed as he swallowed. "I know what I fucking said.”

"So, let me get this straight." You spat, eyebrow cocked. "You want me to continue being your toy, breaking every rule in the book in exchange for your tutoring cooperation and improved grades in order to help me impress Dumbledore, while you continue to be with other girls, but get controlling and fucking crazy when your own brother comes near me, even though you know we could never be together and you have zero intentions of making that happen away...yeah?"

As he blinked, remaining silent, you huffed, releasing a frustrated breath. "Can you at least do me one little fucking favour and explain that hypocrisy to me, Riddle? Or-"

Cutting you off, Mattheo's fingers gripped your jaw for what had to be the hundredth time in ten minutes, pulling you into a kiss that felt like an explosion of chaos and passion--the taste of blood, firewhiskey, and the lingering scent of cigarettes filling your senses; a potent mix that somehow pulled a low moan from your throat. His tongue brushed past your lips, exploring your mouth with a fervor that left you breathless, your entire body reeling from the raw desperation in his touch. The world around you faded into oblivion as his hands slid into your hair, anchoring you to him, pressing you against the shelf with an irresistible force, neither of you willing to separate despite your urgent need for breath.

After what felt like an eternity, Mattheo's lips reluctantly left yours, trailing a path of fire down to your jawline. His hot breath, laced with the taste of whiskey and desire, washed over your skin as he panted, and the room seemed to pulse with the aftermath of the passionate exchange. The two of you stood there, heaving, as if trying to fill your lungs with enough air to regain composure--the intensity of the moment lingering, leaving you both breathless and yearning for more, even though you both knew it was a stupid, idiotic, dangerous game you were playing.

"How is it, that the one woman I can never get enough of, is the one I can't have..." he whispered, his voice so low you swore there was no fucking way you heard him correctly. "When I think about it, I guess it's a fitting punishment, for a monster like me..." his hands fell to your hips, softly holding you against him. "To hold something in my hands and know beyond a bloody fucking doubt that I'll never deserve it."

Your lungs stalled, your heart stopped, oxygen fleeing you as though it was running from a fucking fire. He took a step back, releasing you fully.

"You're right, I had no right doing what I did." The words slammed your chest like a fifty pound brick. You couldn’t do anything except blink. "But I couldn't control myself, and it's not your fault, it's mine. I can’t get over myself. Just be my tutor, and let’s forget anything ever happened between us…I hope my brother makes you fucking happy.”

Without giving you a chance to respond he shifted, making his way down the isle and disappearing around the corner before you even had a singular chance to decipher what the fuck had just happened.

————-

Chapter Seven->

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