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#i think about him too hard and i start to fume
moremousewrites · 2 days
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Alone With You
Pairing: Rolanxf!Reader
Summary: Rolan has been taking out his anger on you ever since you've arrived at the Last Light Inn. You finally get fed up and snap at him, which leads you feeling bit guilty. You try to make it up to him and let him take out his anger on you yet again
Tags: smut, PiV sex, degradation, hate sex, light angst, tail sucking, face fucking, creampie
Of all the people you could have found in the depths of the shadow cursed lands, why did it have to be Rolan. You groaned as you watched him fire off magic missles, clearly overwhelmed by the wraiths that were clawing at him. 
“Why couldn't he just stay at the Inn?” You grumbled to yourself, rubbing your hand down your face. You were in no mood to be dealing with his egotistical bullshit. You told him you would save his siblings. 
You ran down the hill, your party in tow. The look of despair on Rolan's face was hard to miss. Shadowheart made quick work of two of the wraiths and you finished the others with a few focused attacks. The fight was over in moments and Rolan approached you, fuming.
“Gods damn it all. I can do nothing right- not a damn thing!” He yelled to himself, though his ire was pointed at you. It had been all night. Ever since you stepped foot in the Last Light Inn, he'd been taking out his rage on you. You knew it was misdirected, he was scared and insecure. But your patience was running very thin.
“You shouldn't be here, Rolan” you said through gritted teeth. The tiefling had every right to be upset, but he was really grating on your nerves tonight.
“Yes, I should,” he challenged. “I came here to save Cal and Lia. Instead, I found myself in need of rescue. From you… of all bloody people” he scowled at you, referring to you as if you were the scum of the realm.
You gripped the lantern so hard you thought it might splinter. “Unbelievable. I have been nothing but nice to you, you self absorbed prick. You wanna do something for your siblings? Stop trying to get yourself killed for your ego, sober up, and pull yourself together” you chastised him, fed up with his attitude. 
Rolan looked as though he had more to say, but held his tongue and walked back in the direction to the Inn. You figured it was for the best. If he said one more thing you thought you might smack that repugnant look off his face. 
You watched him conjure a transportation spell back to the Inn. He stomped his way into the bar and the portal closed behind him. Rude he didn't offer to transport you as well but at least he was gone.
“Gods, he's a piece of work” you said, rubbing your temples from the stressful encounter. 
Shadowheart raised a brow at you. “Is that what you think of him?” She asked, in a curious manner.
You eyed her, suspiciously. “I think he's probably very scared about his siblings being captured and he's blaming me because that's something he can control right now,” you explained, not very comfortable with her tone. “I also don't care to be his stress relief. He can deal with it like a big boy or deal with it alone. It's not my problem” you were firm in your resolve. Whatever she was implying, you weren't taking the bait.
“If you're sure” Shadowheart shrugged and walked on. Of course you were sure, you just explained it to her. 
You walked the rest of the way in silence, too irritated to say anything productive. You noticed the bar at the Inn was empty. Maybe what you said to Rolan finally got through to him.
A small part of you felt bad for chewing him out and you felt you should apologize before he took off again. You asked Jaheira if she'd seen him and she shrugged. She mentioned he might have gone to a spare room but she wasn't sure. You thanked her and made your way around the Inn. After looking in some of the guest rooms  you started to think he'd gone off again. You checked the Inn more frantically, scouring every room until you found one last door. 
For some reason, you felt the urge to listen through the door. You pressed your ear against the wood and tried to silence the loud beat of your heart in your ears.
At first, you heard nothing. Then, after a few moments, you heard his voice. It was strangled, and low. Unlike how you'd heard him speak before. Almost as if it were a purr. You were so relieved to hear his voice you didn't even process what you were listening to. You immediately knocked on the door.
“Zurgan- leave me alone!” you heard him answer from the other side of the door. His voice was pitchy, like he was straining from something. 
You rolled your eyes. “Rolan, it's me, we need to talk” you placed your hand on the door handle, clicking it open.
“No! No- don't!” opening the door, you were at a loss for words. The wizard apprentice was sprawled out on the bed, shirt removed, fisting his cock with fervor. You shut the door behind you. “Gods damn it, why did it have to be you? Why is it always you?” He let go of himself, dropping his hand on the bed and giving you a stare that could cut you into pieces. 
“I'm sorry, I-” you started to apologize. 
“No, enough of your sorries! You have no respect for my life, for my privacy,  or anyone's for that matter. You just go around involving yourself wherever you think it makes you important and don't stick around to see it through” he ranted at you. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his cock. It was still fully erect. 
“I'm sorry” you walked over to him, eyes taking him in. His normally upkept hair was completely disheveled and framed his face which was glistening with sweat. He'd been fucking his hand furiously. The image it brought to your mind filled you with a heat deep inside you. 
He guffawed at you, furious. “Did you not hear a word I said? Are you dull?” he watched in awe as you sank to your knees at the side of his bed, eyes looking at him in expectation. 
Rolan sat up to face you, feet on either side of you, his cock poking at his navel. “You think I want to fuck you? After everything you've done to me?” He fisted your hair and tilted back your head. You noticed his tail was twitching excitedly. 
His eyes followed yours to his tail and he groaned. He stood, grasping your jaw so it hung open. “I'd tell you to breathe but I don't care,” he said before thrusting into your open mouth. 
Even with his big talk, he showed restraint. His hips only rutting shallow thrusts and he was clearly focused on slowing his pace. You gripped the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer. 
“You brat” he huffed, thrusting harder. A mischievous thought crossed your mind and you narrowed your eyes to look up at him. You were going to be a brat, alright. Your hand moved upwards, carefully locating the base of his tail, and you grasped it lightly.
Rolan's shocked sputtering was a satisfying result of your plotting. He pulled you off of him in a quick motion and grabbed your wrist. “What is wrong with you?!” He sounded exasperated.
“Oh you didn't like that? It kind of felt like you did when your cock was twitching in my throat” you grinned at him.
Rolan pulled you onto the bed, grunting as he did. He was deceptively strong for a wizard. You were bent forward, your ass lifted for him as your face pressed into the mattress. “Will you just shut up already?” he pulled your pants down your thighs and you felt his tail wrap around your naked thigh, firmly. 
You felt the head of his rigid cock press against your hole. You could tell you were soaked as he pressed the tip against you. Letting out a loud whine, Rolan snapped his hips, driving himself into you. “I said shut up!” He set a bruising pace, forcing you down into the mattress with his hips while a hand pressed your shoulder down. 
You could feel his infernal ridges dragging against the walls of your cunt, pulling out to slam back into you as you moaned out his name.
“The brave adventurer moaning my name like a whore. What would your friends think if they knew you were taking a foulbloods cock like a dirty slut? Fucking pathetic” he pounded into you harder, his tail flexing against your leg. 
Your back arched deeper and you rocked your hips to his thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin was echoing against the walls of the room, only to be quieted by your moans. 
You looked back to your thigh to see the tip of his tail was twitching frantically. He was restraining it. You reached back and stroked the tip with your thumb, eliciting a strangled moan from the tiefling. Cautiously, he unfurled it and let you take it in your grasp. You lightly ran your fingers on the edges of his tail, testing the sensitivity while he tried to compose himself. It was clear by his sporadic pace and breathy moans that his tail was incredibly sensitive. As an experiment, you ran the flat of your tongue along the tip of his tail. Rolan nearly collapsed on you.
“W-wait” he stuttered, composure lost. He'd stopped moving entirely, disappointing you.
“What's wrong?” You asked, innocently. You pressed a kiss to his tail and felt him shudder around you.
“It's too much, really. I won't last” he breathed out. 
You licked again, lighter this time, then gave a dark grin. “I don't care,” you said before stuffing the tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tail and humming. 
Rolan cursed at you and lifted his leg onto the bed to fuck into you mercilessly. The unforgiving pace and intense angle was overwhelming. You were fastly approaching your climax along with him. Rolan felt as your cunt clenched around him and in an effort to bring you to completion, he brought his fingers to your clit to finish you off, making you squeal around his tail.
The combined pleasures of your orgasm and your mouth pushed him over the edge, causing him to come deep inside of you. In his exhaustion, he grabbed you and collapsed on his side, still buried in your aching cunt.
For a while, you didn't say anything. His tail had slipped out of your mouth and his spend was seeping out of you while his cock softened. But you laid still in his arms while the afterglow diminished. 
From behind you, you heard a faint sound. He was saying something so quiet you weren't sure you were supposed to hear it.
“What?” You asked, quietly. 
“I said I'm sorry” he replied. You nodded, not wanting to press on the issue. 
“It's okay. Do you want me to stay?” You asked, unsure of what he needed. 
Rolan didn't respond for a moment, ashamed to say yes. Ashamed to say he needed you again. That you really weren't the bane of his existence and that he was scared of being alone. Instead, he held you closer.
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mattyriddlesbitch · 7 hours
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Hiiiii! So, I'm Arab and I was wondering is you could do a y/n x Mattheo riddle(cuz y/n is so badass) where they're fighting about the girls that go to Mattheo. y/n goes into Arabic and mattheo goes hard and then. . . you can determine what you want to do with it. BTW I LOVE UUUUU
ps can u make them in a secret relationship?
I LOVE UUUUU TOO AAAA THANK YOU! Sorry this took so long!
All Yours
Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader
Warnings: Oral(female receiving), fingering, unprotected sec, cream pie, cussing.
18+ Minors DNI!
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There he was again. Your secret boyfriend. Mattheo Riddle. Surrounded by girls at one of the Slytherin parties. There were quite a few reasons to keep your relationship secret. His father. Your parents. His friends. Even your friends. He didn’t want you to be used against him as a weakness either.
Whatever the reasons, you were still fuming about how he spoke with the girls. Granted, he never did touch them or reciprocate their flirtations. But he didn’t push them away either or reject them outright.
He spotted you across the room, locking eyes with you and giving you his wicked smile that normally made you melt. When he got met with your crossed arms and eye roll, he knew you were mad and the smile dropped.
He was able to get away from the girls, redirecting them to his friends before he slipped away. He was pulling you away from everyone, skirting around the party to avoid anyone’s attention as he pulled you up to his dorm.
He closed the door behind you two before speaking. “Alright. What’s wrong, sweet girl?”
“Don’t call me that.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest again.
He sighed. “Fine. What’s wrong?”
You weren’t sure what to say, trying to figure out how to phrase it. You weren’t exactly prepared for this confrontation.
“Is it the girls?” He asked, stepping closer.
“Of course it is!” You nearly yelled. How can he be so stupid?
“Come on, princess. You know I can’t do anything about it.” He tried speaking softly as he touched your arm.
All that did though was piss you off even more. You pulled your arm from him and started yelling. “Yes, you can! You can tell them to back off! You can tell them you’re not interested!”
“I can’t do that. It’ll be suspicious. I don’t want people catching on that I have a girlfriend.” He said, keeping his voice calm.
You knew what he meant. He meant he didn’t want people to find out so they can use you against him or harm you. But you were mad, so of course the words were falling from your mouth faster than you were even thinking. “Oh, it’s so bad to have a girlfriend now? I’m that embarrassing to you?”
“No-” He tried interjecting, but you cut him off.
You were slipping into Arabic without even realizing it. You were just yelling and he was staring at you, stunned. It was the first time he’d heard you speak Arabic, let alone yelling it.
You stopped yelling after a few moments, looking at him to respond. “What?”
“That was so hot.” He said and his mouth was on yours.
The anger that you had was turning into desire for him as you guided you two towards the bed, lips pressed together still as you took off what clothes you could without breaking the kiss. He pushed you back onto the bed once you reached it and helped you out of your clothes, wasting no time to sink between your thighs and start licking and sucking like a starved man.
“Keep going. Talk to me.” He said, pushing two fingers inside you.
It took you a moment to start talking, rambling something about how good it feels and whatever else came to mind. It’s not like he knew what you were saying anyways.
“Fucking hot.” He groaned before licking at your clit again.
You kept your rambling, only breaking with moans and whimpers. His name falling from your mouth every few sentences as he was desperately trying to make you fall apart on his tongue and fingers.
“That’s fucking it. You gonna cum, princess? I wanna see you cum on my fingers. Look so pretty screaming my name.” He said, staring up at you between your legs.
You couldn’t deny him what he was craving, nearly begging for. You were falling apart for him only moments later, tugging his hair, trembling, crying out his name.
He flipped you over after riding out your orgasm, gripping your hips to pull back towards him. He slowly eased the head of his dick in, groaning as you moaned.
“You’re fucking hot when you’re mad.” He said with a slight struggle as he kept pushing inside you.
“My yelling turns you on?” You asked, gripping at the sheets.
“More than it should, probably.” He started thrusting, no longer being gentle, he gripped your hips with bruising force and fucking you fast and deep. “You can keep going if you’d like. Or would you rather scream my name?” He asked, leaning over to grab your hair, lifting your head from the bed.
“Fuck, Mattheo! I-fuck!” You cried out, finding it difficult to think with his cock hitting so deep inside you.
“Guess that’s my answer, huh?” He teased.
“Shut up!” You tried for an irritated tone, but it was hardly even halfhearted.
“Oh, but you love when I talk to you like this. Can feel how wet you get, love.” He leaned down so his chest was pressing against your back. 
He was fucking into you so deep, he moved his hand from your hair to rub at your clit, making you whimper from how sensitive it was.
“Maybe you just needed to be reminded that I’m all yours in another way to get rid of that anger, hm?” He mused, pressing kisses along your upper back. “Fucking clenching me, princess, you gonna cum again already?”
All you could do was nod in response, your voice occupied with moaning and crying out with his thrusts.
“That’s it. Be a good girl then and cum for me.” He said softly. “Cum on my cock, pretty girl.”
And you were trembling again, crying out his name and you gripped at the sheets.
He cursed as he came from the feeling of your pussy trying to milk him, filling you with his cum.
“I’m all yours, sweet girl. You’re all mine, too.” He said reassuringly as he pressed kisses where he could reach as your body relaxed.
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ohbother2 · 3 months
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Okay….Adam sfw and nsfw headcanons? I cannot believe I have begun to simp after this trashbag DAMN YOU ALEX BRIGHTMAN-
I have an admission... I fucking love Adam pls keep sending Adam requests in I can't get enough of this man
Also, sorry I've been MIA, I've got a lot of deadlines coming up so updates will be more spaced out over the next few weeks :)
I love Adam but he's quite difficult to write, so pls lmk what you guys think! I tried to keep him in character! (This was far longer than planned lol I just love this man)
NSFW - Minors DNI
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Adam x f!reader - General Headcannons
SFW
You'd been in heaven for many decades, possibly even centuries, before you had ever even entered Adam's radar
He was the 'original dick', as he liked to constantly remind everyone within shouting distance, and spent all of his time surrounded by the higher-ups of Heaven, attending meetings, court-hearings, and dealing with training his danger-tits army for the next extermination
It would take a lot to enter his radar, having to work your way into the correct circles, gain the right connections and attend the right events
But once you're in the circumference of society he haunts, you're on his radar immediately
He's a man with fine tastes, look at his previous wives, he has a type ("fucking bombshells" as he would describe them) and as soon as he sees you in his peripheral one afternoon he's zoned in and absolutely entranced
No one has ever said no to him before, so when you do, he's taken aback. Hiding his confusion and deep-rooted offence with a flippant comment "Oh, playing the hard to get game, babe? Lucky for you I fucking love the chase."
Inwardly, he's fucking fuming, why on earth would you reject him? Alas, he's sure he'll win you over eventually... right?
He's arrogant, he's cocky, he's a self-entitled piece of shit, but he's also determined, passionate, and is anything but a quitter
You will not know peace for months after your reject him
He'll storm into your office whenever he feels like it - which is whenever he has enough free time to do so - bugging you relentlessly as you try and finish your work. He never stops asking questions about you: your day, your hobbies, your love life, what're you doing after work tonight? He's free, he could take you somewhere nice, show you a real fun time
When you stop answering he starts bitching about his day to you, about the local gossip, about some Seraphim that pissed him off, about some bitch at the bar, which he could totally take you to, did he mention he was free tonight?
He doesn't just hound you at work, and you often find yourself coming to a screeching halt in the street and abruptly turning the other way when you spot his iconic mask - he's a tall man, his horns poking noticeably above the crowd as he tries to find any excuse to find and talk to you
When he gets really desperate, after months and months of unsuccessful attempts of gaining your attention, he finally turns to Lute with the all too familiar question "You're a woman, right? What do you-"
The advice she gives is not one he is happy to receive, 'stay away and tone it the fuck down', but he listens, ego taking a massive hit as he watches you carry on as normal
Funnily enough, you start to miss the annoying dick, and you begin to look forward to his far less frequent visits, which mainly consist of you both bumping into each other at work and making polite conversation
When he really can't take it anymore, and he happens to hear rumour about another man planning on asking you on a date, he practically breaks down your office door with a bouquet of flowers, thrusting them unhappily into your hands and asking incredibly politely for you to please go on a date with him
You're both surprised when you agree, and he can feel his face heating up beneath his mask as he whoops, calling a "I knew you'd come around babe, I'll pick you up at 8 tonight. Can't wait to see what you wear." over his shoulder as he bustles back out of your office, practically vibrating until he can tell Lute the news
He's 'The Original Man', and once you become his girl there is nothing he wouldn't do for you - he's constantly swinging by your office and pulling away the less important paperwork, commenting that he can get one of his workers to do it and freeing up time for you both to hang out; he's constantly flying through your balcony with bags of some new takeaway and chatting about this amazing new food place he found as he drops the heavy bags on your counter; someone causing you trouble? If he can't personally deal with it due to some 'relationship' he has to upkeep, he's sure to inform Lute who will have the situation handled before sunset that same day
Basically, he has authority in Heaven, and he's going to use that to make your life as easy as possible
Having a bad day? He can fix that. Oh, not in the mood for sex? Well, he's an amazing cuddle buddy, and he has the softest wings, let him just grab some snacks from the kitchen and then get ready for a night on the sofa wrapped in his strong arms and soft wings
His wings are insanely soft, and big, and despite his best efforts, no matter how long you've both been dating, they will flutter if he hasn't seen you in an extended amount of time, or if you're wearing something particular nice - he can't control it and it thoroughly ruins his bad-boy persona
You're the only other person beside Lute who he feels comfortable with letting preen his wings, and after you start officially dating he only comes to you with the issue, batting his eyelashes and pleading with you to 'take care of him'. You do, and he always breaks his promise not to 'make it weird' until you give him a firm smack on the back of his head - he's fallen asleep more times than you can count with your hands in his wings
He returns the favour, of course, and he sticks to his word like a gentleman, hands remaining firmly against your wings and not daring to wander. He's not a saint, however, and he will whisper less-than-holy things in your ear as he works - he'll stop if you don't play along, and finds himself enjoying the innocent intimacy of it. If you do play along? Oh, boy, his hands don't stay on your wings for long
He uses his wings a lot in his body language, and in your initial stages of courting he'll constantly puff them out to make him seem bigger, trying to impress you with his sheer size - embarrassingly for you, it works
PDA is not approved of in heaven, so he has to maintain his distance from you in public but that is a completely different matter in private
He will take every opportunity to touch you, innocently, whether that be a had on your jaw to bring your attention back to him or to guide your gaze wherever he wants you to look, a hand on your bicep to pull you this way and that, a large hand between your shoulder blades if you're being too slow
In public, completely subconsciously, whichever wing is closest to you will outstretch, barely noticeable to the majority of people, corralling you in closer to his side, and protecting you from whatever might happen - there's no danger in heaven, but still, he likes to know you're safe, and his wings reflect that desire
In private, he's constantly got a hand on you, oftentimes both, on your arms, your shoulders, your waist, the small of your back, your thighs, fucking anywhere - he likes having you on his chest on the sofa, and he finds it funny when he tries to do the same and crushes the air from your lungs
He loves when you cook and he can just stand behind you with his chin propped on your head or shoulder and his arms around your waist. You constantly have to tell him off for whispering foul things in your ear, but he quickly shuts up when you threaten to send him away, his grip tightening against you as he pouts playfully and watches silently
He will actively stretch out his wing when it's cold or windy or rainy, shielding you from the elements with his large wings and loving the excuse to pull you close. "What're they gonna say babe? I'm just keeping you dry."
The biggest difficulty in your domestic lives is the housework, he's an old fashioned man and he's never really had to do housework before. He's gotten better throughout your relationship, but he still absolutely hates washing dishes, but he'll happily sit in the kitchen and keep you company and talk mindlessly as he watches you work. He always thanks you with a kiss
If you ever make him do it, expect to be sat on the counter right next to him and no you cannot leave until he's done and yes you will listen to him complain the entire time and yes he will always slap your ass with a wet hand as payback, cackling as you yell half-heartedly
Deep down, incredibly deep, oceanic levels of deep, past the many many levels of crude jokes and brash humour, of over-compensating confidence and attempted witty one-liners, past the smirk and the puffed chest and the domineering presence, is a man who is cripplingly doubtful and insecure - two of his wives have left him for the same man, and he's absolutely terrified (but would rather burn in the fiery pits of hell than ever admit it) that it's going to happen again
He can seem rude and brash and uncaring, but he really is trying his best, and he's desperate to prove to you, in his own way, how much he really cares (He's scared to admit even to himself how much losing you would crush him)
Because of this, no event is ever half-assed - it's your birthday? He's got the biggest cake he can find and he's made some of his exterminators set up a surprise birthday party for you. It's your anniversary? He's pretending he's forgotten until the morning of and suddenly you've got a reservation at one of the nicest and most in-demand places in all of Heaven
"Come on, sugar," He'd reprimand you mockingly, shit-eating grin on his face at your excitement "you really thought I'd forget my special girl?"
He can doubt himself sometimes, worrying about your feelings for him, but he hides his insecurities whenever you catch him in deep-thought with some lame sex-joke
He doesn't ever want to talk about his insecurities, and he'll never outright tell you what he fears more than anything, but you pick up on it after enough time together
You don't pry, but you do card your hands through his hair when you see his eyes go particularly glossy one afternoon, pressing a kiss to his temple and scratching at his scalp, making your way slowly to his wings and back and taking your sweet time. He closes his eyes and listens to you ramble about your day, which eventually turns into you rambling about him, how handsome he is, how hard he works, and how much you love him and how you don't know what you'd do without him
He doesn't realise it, but you say just the rights things he needs for him to regain that pep in his step and for his cocky words to have more meaning behind them
NSFW
He's the Original Dick, and you'd hope he had the goods to back up the talk with the amount of bragging he does
He does; he does have the goods, and some would say he's being humble because what the fuck
He's the oldest human in history - he's seen it all, done it all twice, and he's more than willing to share some of his tricks with you
He's too proud and self-centred to ever let you have complete control, but when he's particularly lazy he'll let you go on top (as rare as this occasion is) but he'll still guide you as best as he can, lifting you easily with his strong arms and sweet-talking you with his sharp tongue
The first time you ever see him without his god-awful mask is during an intimate moment - you're first intimate moment, where you downright refused to continue if he didn't take the cursed thing off his face
Again, he's insecure, and it takes a lot of reassurance and just the right amount of kisses on his jaw and neck for him to be convinced that taking his mask off was worth it
He lets you look at him for several moments, and then he's had enough and he took his mask off for a fucking reason and he's pulling you into his lap and kissing you properly for the fist time
You can compliment him later, he has other things on his mind right now, the main one being fucking you until you can't even conjure a coherent thought
After that encounter he slowly takes his mask off in private with you more and more, learning to appreciate how nice it was to be able to kiss your temple and actually feel you against his lips, as well as how nice it was to feel your lips against his cheek
Still keeps the mask on sometimes, especially when you ask so nicely
He absolutely loves receiving head, resting back in his office chair or against the back of the sofa and letting you get to work, grunts and groans falling from his lips as his hands grip your hair tightly and guide you exactly how he wants you
He will give head as well, he's not selfish by any means, but he much prefers kissing you as you fall apart beneath him - for him, he'd much rather swallow your screams and mutter dirty things in your ear as he brings you to release
Be careful with his wings, especially when he lets you preen them - gentle touches can easily be misinterpreted as passionate caresses and before you know it you're pinned on your back with a red-faced and disheveled looking Adam hovering above you, muttering about how you're a "fucking tease" and if "you wanted it so bad all you had to do was ask, sugar. I'll never leave you wanting."
He knows the power of wings, and his heavy touches against your own when he needs to "Just sliding past babe, what's that fucking look for? Can't a man work?" are no accident. He loves getting you all wound up. He takes it as a personal challenge to do it in public, and his shit-eating grin remains the entire day before he's pressing you against the door of his office or your plush bed and muttering about how fucking needy you are.
He doesn't take being teased well, and he'll glare at you the entire time until he can do something about it - he'll have even less patience than usual, especially for people who aren't you, and often has to do damage-control after he's regained his bearings a few hours later
He's a big man, and he uses that to his full advantage, man-handling you with ease, positioning you exactly where he wants you, pinning both of your wrists easily with only one of his large hands, pushing your legs apart like butter
He can lift you easily, and he'll hold you against the wall, or countertop, or wherever the fuck you guys are, and he'll keep you there until he's done
Lute has walked in on you both far too many times, and she always hurtles back out of the door cursing at you both angrily
He likes pinning you beneath him, spreading his wings over your forms and completely shrouding you with his form - you're fucking his, and no one else will take that from him
He fucking loves dirty talk, and it's a challenge to get him to shut up - he'll carry on talking at you long after you're able to respond, and he'll just start talking about that instead: "Aw, look at you, can't even fucking say my name you're so fucking dumb for this c-"
As said before, he's insecure based on the way he lost his two previous wives and the reflects into the bedroom
If you do degrade him, he'll just challenge you, telling you you've obviously not learnt your fucking lesson and picking up the pace, desperate to prove he's the exact opposite of whatever had just spilled from your mouth - you'll pay for trying to goad him on, he won't relent until you're a babbling shaking mess, stuttering out apologies and taking back everything you had just dared to say to him
Any praise you offer him he absolutely laps up. Call him handsome, tell him your his, tell him there's no one else in the world who would ever compared to him, how good he's fucking you - he'll get so wrapped up in the praise he'll even stop talking, completely focussed on his task of making you feel good, making sure you know there's no one else who could give you what he does
Dig your hands into his wings and he becomes a groaning mess, and it'll only be a few seconds of you muttering those sweet praises in his ears and your nails digging into his wings before he's collapsing on top of you and panting raggedly, still trying to mutter out curses and praises through his gruff gasping
When he really loses control his wings will flap of their own accord, and you've had to completely clear your side tables because he kept accidentally smashing everything that was on them
He likes to rest afterwards, and he usually tries to encourage you into going another round.
He'll tug you into his sweaty side, pulling you half onto his chest as he breathes deeply, immediately asking if you enjoyed it, and when you agree, he'll always mutter something along the lines of "Of course you fucking did, it's me."
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kuromiiyuuu · 4 months
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"You're insufferable." part i, jjk.
-in which you got in a heated argument with jjk men.
part ii.
toji, satoru, and nanami, (f).
warnings, genre. swearing! not proofread! | angst to fluff! |
notes i. this was requested from like a year ago so... yeah.
Toji. the scarred man was flaring up your temper for sure, you sat at the your side of the passanger seat. drowning in your own sea of thoughts whilst you looked outside the window of the moving car. tiny drops of water was plastered right on the car window. the sound of pitter-patter by the rain can be heard but slightly muffled.
the car however was silent, toji, your boyfriend was driving with a deadly grip on the steering wheel. you both were driving home after a disasterous date. it was going on fine at the beginning but all of a sudden, your meticulous boyfriend and you were suddenly fighting with him over something you didn't seem to think about now. you were just fuming in your seat because he had raised his voice at you in front of many people, "are you going to keep up this being a bitch act of yours?" he bites, you can feel the venom seeping through his voice.
you stayed silent, trying to send him the hint that you weren't going to talk to him any sooner. he hisses beside you before slamming his hand on the steering wheel, making you look at him with a flinch, "damn it!" "what the hell is wrong with you, toji!" "now you decide to talk to me."
"if you were just being so fucking easy back there, then maybe i wouldn't have yelled." the man beside you fills you in, trying to point out your mistakes from the fight.
"oh so now it's my fault that you have anger issues that you can not somehow get a hold of? you're a fucking assassin, toji. yet you act like you can't color inside the lines with a gun to your fucking head."
"what the fuck did you just say?" his voice grumbles, and just in time for a thunder to roar in the sky, light flashes in a second before the rain came down heavier. toji took a glance at you, his eyes were filled with anger and you can tell, you calmed yourself down. looking out from the window again you wrapped your own arms around your body to provide warmness, you couldn't handle it anymore. there was never a day where you don't find yourself arguing with the scarred man over and over again, you were tired, to an extent.
"you're a fucking jerk." you mumble, resting your head on the window as you feel your tears starting to build up. it hurts you, him being too comfortable yelling at you in front of a crowd, it shatters your heart into millions of pieces. you knew you were hard to love but... toji made you feel like there wasn't hope at all.
"I hate you." it came out like a whisper, your voice vulnerable and weak. toji's grip loosened, his eyes softening in an instant with his face muscle finally relaxing, but not in a good way. damn did those three words, eight letters, stab his heart a million times repeatingly, over and over again. he was hurting you, and now he realizes it, he has gone too far now, "y/n."his voice was gentle now, no sign of anger or irritation.
you didn't answer, you felt so weak now. you felt like you were going to burst into tears within a second, " 'm sorry." your boyfriend says, your heart warms up in an instant, it was unfair, he had this effect on you and you just can't ignore it, "whatever." you replied with a sob at the end of your sentence, you had been crying again... because of him.
toji didn't like seeing you like this so he swore in him, he would kill anyone that made you cry, and if he did make you holler again, he'll end his self instead.
Satoru. "This is crazy." you say in frustration, looking at your lover as if he has grown tw heads to make your eyes shine with horrid, "oh this is crazy? you're
crazy." the silver haired exclaims with his tone sharp and absolute, you were taken a back by his response, "oh wow, don't try to point this on me when you're the one who flirted with a girl." "it's like I can't even do anything in this relationship anymore, you have this fucking vision in your head that im so fucking wrong all the time."
"you're just making up excuses, satoru. it won't cover up the fact that you flirted with the girl." you pointed at him, your eyes glared at him with your voice slightly raising. smoke was basically coming out of satoru's ear, he was fuming, "you're insecure, that's what you are." "what did you just say?" "you make a big fuss whenever i talk to another girl, you're afraid ill le...
there was the sound of your palm hitting his right cheek, it echos through out the room with your eyes tearing up. who am i kidding, it already rolled down your cheeks, your eyes held betrayal. satoru, never in your life did he point out your insecurities in an argument.
"what happened to you. if that's what you think then I'm afraid we're better off by ourselves." you say calmly, your tears still can't help themselves from falling, "y/n." "no, you don't say those hurtful things and expect me to be okay."
"im sorry, i know i crossed the line." the silver haired exclaims with a saddened voice, the slap was like a slap from reality. truly the reason why he realized his mistake. "i would never do that to you." your voice cracked, you couldn't anymore, the burden rose up to your throat and it made hard for you to say something without finding it hard. you were crying now.
backing away from your boyfriend your back hits the wall and you slide down to the floor whilst trying to calm yourself down. and just like that you feel your boyfriends familiar scent crouch down to your level, grabbing your hands gently to replace his slender hands to wipe away your tears. "im sorry baby, im so... fuck, i hate seeing you like this."
Nanami. "im just trying to calmly apologize to you, i dont want to fight anymore." the blonde says, he brings his hand up to his mouth in a frustrated manner, you stood there, your arms crossed in front of your chest with your eyebrows furrowed. your face was bear but the outfit you were supposed to wear to your date with him was still on your body, "how is that going to help me, is it going to bring back the two hours i waited for you!" you exclaim, you were frustrated, the man forgot your date because he went to a party at work. and he didn't even tell you he was going, so it caused a misunderstanding, and you waited fir him like a fool.
"did you get hurt? i said i was sorry didn't i? can i go to bed now." he says in almost a monotone voice, you were offended by the way he reacted. it was almost like he didn't even care about your feelings. your eyes by now had widened, "so you're invalidating my feelings now? so what you said sorry?" "god your voice it's so..." "its so what." "...." "answer me!"
"fucking annoying! that's what it is, you yell, you yap do you ever get tired?" nanami finally loses his composure and his words were like daggers stabbing your heart. and if you listened closely, you can hear your heart breaking into pieces, and shattering beneath you. "you... you're the least man i have ever thought to say those words to me."
"wait." but it was too late, you had slammed the door in your shared room, nanami was left inside the cold atmosphere of the living room. he drops his self to the couch, placing his elbow on both his knees as he runs his finger through his blonde locks in frustration, he fucked up.
he needed to calm his self down before comforting you, in case he hurts you again.
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actuallysaiyan · 4 months
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Hiiiii!! I’m so happy requests are open baby!!! Can I maybe request some smut? I’m thinking Yuta with a little cry baby girlfriend who whines about it being too big 🙈
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warnings: smut, unprotected sex, dub con, Yuta is a meanie in this one, AGEDUP!Yuta, biting, creampie, swearing word count: 1.3k pairings: AGEDUP!Yuta Okkotsu x Fem!Reader summary: you're always trying to get out of having sex with Yuta because his cock always stretches you out, but one night you bite off more than you can chew while you tease him.
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Yuta was the perfect boyfriend. He really treated you like this little princess. He goes out of his way to buy you little gifts and to take you out to dinner whenever he’s got the chance. Whenever he has to leave for work, Yuta makes sure to take time to call you or Facetime you whenever he can while he’s gone on long missions. He really is the most romantic and perfect boyfriend.
And your relationship has bloomed beautifully. You started out as friends, shy and hesitant to really speak to one another. But then as time went on, you couldn’t stay away from one another. Soon you both confessed to one another, and it was like a fairytale love.
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Lots of soft kisses, hand holding, going on dates together. Yuta showed his devotion through all kinds of words and actions. But the one thing you didn’t do often was have sex. Yuta was crazy big. His cock was much too girthy for you to truly enjoy it. He did everything in his power to make it pleasurable for you, but it was always too big. You’d whine and beg him to stop, but he was growing more impatient as the days went by.
He has you over one night, and one thing leads to another. Yuta has you on his lap as your lips are locked in a steamy and sloppy kiss. His hands are trembling as you continue to rock your hips against him. Then they slowly side up your body to wrap around your neck.
“D-don’t fucking tease me.” He spits out when you pull away.
You pout, “Yuuutaaa, I’m not. I just wanna fool around a lil bit!”
He growls under his breath, his patience wearing thin now. He squeezes your throat a little, making you whine loudly. It sounds so good when your airway is closed off just that little bit. His thumbs press down a little more, watching your eyes flutter. Then he releases you, allowing you to catch your breath.
“What did I say, princess?” Yuta asks, leaning in to press kisses along your throat.
“I’m not teasing you, Yuta.”
He frowns as he hears you lie to him. You are indeed teasing him. There is no other reason why you’d be grinding your pretty body all over him. Your clothed cunt keeps pressing against his raging hard-on. His hands then move to grip your hips, stopping you from doing anything else.
“Baby,” Yuta warns. “If you don’t stop messing around, I’ll have to punish you. You don’t wanna be a bad girl, do you?”
Despite seeing that look in his eyes, you want to continue pressing his buttons. You want him to snap and take advantage of you. You’re desperate to see your normally docile and sweet boyfriend turn into the monster that lurks just below the surface. To have him pin you down on the couch and to fold you into the position he desires, it sounds like a dream come true.
So you whine and you begin grinding against him once more. He’s trying to stop you, but you won’t listen to him. Then he slaps your thigh, making you yelp. This won’t even stop you. You’re on a mission and you know what you want as the outcome. A few more thrusts of your hips has Yuta fuming below you.
With movements that are so fast they leave you dizzy, Yuta has you pinned under him. One of his hands holds your wrists above your head. He has his whole weight on you now too, keeping you secure beneath him. He looks into your eyes, and you see that you’ve made him snap.
“Silly little princess,” he says with a smile. “You’re being a bad girl again.”
You whine and whimper as he undresses you with haste. Your pretty little panties are torn off your body. His large hand presses between your plush thighs, two fingers shoved deep inside of your cunt.
“Yuta! W-wait!” you whine, tears in your eyes now.
He shakes his head, reminding you of how he needs to punish you. He needs to teach you a lesson. You were so bad for him, now he’s got to correct your behavior. It feels so good to have him fingering you so vigorously that your tits bounce in sync with the thrusts.
“So fuckin’ wet, I knew being rough with you turns you on…”
You’re blushing as he says these filthy things to you. The monster that lurks just below the surface has just emerged and you’re in for a wild ride. The coil in your stomach tightens more and more, but before you’re allowed to release, he pulls his fingers from your cunt and shoves them into your mouth.
Your eyes widen when you watch him undo his pants with one hand. You eagerly suck on his fingers that are just filled with your juices. Then you gasp when you feel his fat cock slapping against your folds. A pathetic mewl escapes your lips, making Yuta chuckle darkly.
“Can your puny little cunt even handle me? You’ve never been able to handle me before.’
Your eyes begin tearing up when you feel the thick head prodding your tight little hole, “Please…go slow. Yuta please go slow!”
He laughs in your face, then leans in to kiss you roughly. He continues to just fuck you shallowly with the tip of his cock. Even that is such a stretch for you, and you’re desperately trying to push on his stomach to make him slow down. But there is no way you could get him to stop completely.
You cry out when he finally impales you on his cock. You look down and you swear you can see a bulge in your lower tummy. Tears stream down your cheeks as he begins a rough and deep pace. Every thrust has the tip of his cock slamming against your sensitive cervix.
“Yuuu! Oh please slow down!” You cry out, and you begin to cling to him. Your nails leave crescent moon indents into the meat of his arms.
“Nuh uh, princess. You were being such a fucking tease, now you gotta take my cock. I know you can do it for me.”
You hiccup as he continues to fuck you so fast and hard. Your tits bounce even harder and faster at this pace, making Yuta lean in and latch onto one of your nipples. You yelp as he bites down on the swell of your breast. Then he bites and sucks on the soft skin of the other one. He continues like this as he’s pounding you into the sofa.
“Your cunt is so tight, baby. You must like this,” he teases you, his face in the crook of your neck now.
You try to hold back your moans, but you can’t. Despite the roughness of the pace and the slight pain from him hitting your cervix, it’s really starting to feel good too. Yuta brings one of his hands to his lips and he spits on his fingertips. Then he shoves his hand between you two, rubbing your clit fast and sloppy.
“Cum for me, pretty girl!” He coaxes.
You whine loudly, “Yu– please please please!”
The coil tightens so fast, you’ve barely got time to warn him. With a loud cry, you begin to cum hard. Your walls are squeezing him so snugly, making him grunt in your ear as he leans in closer to you. There’s a ring of your cream foaming around the base of his cock as he continues to fuck himself into you.
Then he’s falling off the edge too, his lips smashed against yours as he pumps ropes of hot cum into your waiting womb. His hips don’t relent as he rides out his intense high. Just as you’re both coming down from your high, he slowly pulls out his thick cock and watches all the cum begin to dribble out of your tight cunt. He laughs lowly, then stuffs himself back into you.
“See princess, told you that you could take it.”
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mellowsaturns · 5 months
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all to myself
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CEO!BUCKY BARNES X READER
summary: after bucky finds out why you've been acting up ever since his company's party, he teaches you a lesson and remind you that you're the only one for him
warnings: 18+ minors dni, smut, f!reader, soft!mean!bucky, slight bratty!reader, jealousy on reader's side, possessiveness, teasing, begging, oral (f receiving), fingering, basically fighting then making up
wc: 1.9k
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“Don’t leave when I’m talking to you.”
Bucky’s words should have sent shivers down your spine—should have made you stop dead in your tracks. But you were so angry that you just dismissed him and walked away.
He called out your name, in warning this time, and you chose to ignore him once again.
It only took him three steps to catch up to you. He grabbed one of your wrists and spun you around in seconds. 
“Did you not hear what I said? Don’t leave when I’m talking to you,” he fumed. 
“You’re not the boss of me,” you countered, trying to pull your arm from his grasp. But he was too strong.
“What’s up with you? You’ve been acting like this all night.”
Your boyfriend’s company had just hit the next milestone and of course, it was only appropriate to celebrate. But ever since the two of you left the party, you’ve been giving him the silent treatment.
You made sure you were always steps ahead of him when walking out the building. You ignored the farewells and even went as far as slamming the door to his three-million dollar Bugatti that he loves so much without even a second thought. You refused to look at him the whole ride home and when he tried to talk to you, you completely ignored him, focusing on the street lamps instead.
Once the two of you got back to his place, he started confronting you on your poor behaviour and all that other bullshit. As if he wasn’t the one to cause it. 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. If you’re done, I’m going to go to bed. Goodnight,” you said bitterly, finally yanking your arm away. 
“Why are you being so fucking difficult?”
You scoffed. “Oh, I’m sorry for being difficult,” you said, voice laced with sarcasm. “Maybe you should go be with those ladies you were talking to the whole night. Maybe they aren’t so fucking difficult.”
He furrowed his eyebrows at you. “Is that what this is all about? You’re jealous I was talking to other girls?”
You bit down hard on your lip. “You were flirting with them!” 
“I was not flirting with them.”
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, because letting them touch and throw themselves at you is not flirting.”
Because while Bucky was enjoying himself, you were left to socialize with his stuck-up business partners and had to down your cocktails all by yourself. You got ignored by your own fucking boyfriend. To make matters worse, the two of you haven’t seen each other for a whole week because he was on a business trip. You even wore his favourite dress and did your hair and makeup all pretty for him but he didn’t even pay any attention to you. 
So excuse you for being emotional, but you think your anger is justifiable.
He sighed. “You’re overthinking it.”
“Whatever,” you muttered, “I’m going to bed.” 
“We’re not done here,” he demanded. 
“Mmm, I think we are.” 
He pulled you back, this time with so much force that you’re practically pressed up against his chest. 
“You were embarrassing me in front of all my friends, you know that?” 
You scoffed. “If that’s your only concern maybe we shouldn’t do this anymore,” you spat.
His eyes darken, “Say that again.”
You swallowed your breath and could feel yourself heating up at his words. And you didn’t know where all this bravery was coming from because a minute later, you said, “Break up with me then. Go find one of those girls from tonight and fuck them instead. I’m sure they won’t embarrass you.”
He tightened his grip when you tried to writhe out of his hold. 
“Stop fighting me,” he said. 
God—you were even more angry now. Because he’s so sexy when he’s boring his deep eyes into yours in that authoritative and dominating way of his. It was unfair. 
“You’re not leaving,” he continued, “you’re not stepping a foot outside this room unless I say so.”
That intense warmth building between your legs was getting worse and worse by the minute.
“What are you going to do to stop me?” you mocked, knowing it would irritate him to endless lengths. You lifted your hand towards your neck, where the diamond studded necklace Bucky gave you when he officially asked you to become his was delicately located.
His jaw ticked and you ripped the necklace off. 
Before you had a chance to think about what you’ve done, he grabbed you and smashed his lips against yours, knocking all the air out of your lungs.
You whimpered at the force but slowly, you melted into him as his hands made its way to cup your face.
He moaned into your mouth and for a second you forgot why you were angry in the first place.
Fuck Bucky Barnes and his plush lips.
“You’re such a brat, you know that?” He growled into your ear before pushing you against the wall and caging you in between him. Your knees almost buckled at the huskiness of his voice.
He trailed his hand down to your thighs before dipping it into your dress, hiking it up slightly. He smirked. “Look at you,” he taunted, “so wet.”
Your breath hitched as his finger made its way to your panties, rubbing gentle circles on the now damp fabric. He hooked his finger along its band and ripped the lace off—like how he ripped all your other ones. 
“B–Bucky!” you gasped as he cupped your mound, finger brushing your clit and teasing you at your entrance.
His lips latched onto your neck, sucking and biting the sensitive skin.
You leaned into him. “Bucky,” you whined while rocking against his hand.
“So needy,” he teased. 
“Bucky,” you desperately begged, “—please.”
“Please what, baby? Use your words.”
“Want… need to feel you,” you murmured.
“Mmm, I don’t think you deserve it,” he said. 
“Fuck—” you gasped as he pressed his palm harder against your sensitive sex. “Please, Bucky,” you begged, “I didn’t mean to be bratty. Just wanted all your attention, that's all.”
He hummed. “My girl that desperate for me?”
You nodded. “Y–yes,” you stammered. “Want you all to myself.”
At that, he plunged two of his fingers into your wet core. You gasped at the fullness—at how good it felt.
“Look at you,” he whispered, pumping his fingers in and out. “A mess for me. What happened to all that defiance? Hm?”
You couldn’t even say any snarky remarks back. The only noise coming out of your mouth were your pathetic whimpers and desperate pleas as Bucky fucked you knuckles deep.
“You want to come, sweetheart?” 
You nodded, gripping onto his shoulders. “I want to hear you say sorry.”
“I’m sor—ah!” you gasped when he curled his finger at that spot he knows so well. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for acting like that tonight.”
“And?”
“And for slamming the door to your car.”
“No, not that. I don’t care about the car.” 
His hand clasped around your neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. 
“I’m sorry for ripping your necklace off. I’m so sorry,” you cried. You leaned into him, just below his ears. “I’m yours, Bucky. Only yours.” 
“Good girl,” he rasped. 
And at that, you come crashing down, an eutrophic wave washing over you. 
He held you as you collected yourself. “I’m sorry for embarrassing you tonight,” you murmured into his shoulder. “It’s just I really did miss you. I even wore that dress you liked so much. Put on your favourite shade of lipstick.”
“I know, sweetheart,” he said, stroking your hair. “You looked beautiful tonight.”
You burrowed yourself deeper into him. “Thought you got bored of me or something,” you mumbled more to yourself than him, but he managed to pick it up and he took it to heart.
“Don’t ever say that again,” he said angrily. He pulled you away and held your face. “I will never get bored of you. You’re the only one I want, you got it?” 
You pouted as if you didn’t quite believe him and if there was one thing Bucky couldn’t handle, it was those sad doe-eyes of yours underneath your pretty lashes. 
His mouth latched onto yours once again, deepening the kiss within seconds. He led you to the couch, never once breaking the kiss. 
You fell onto the black leather as he hovered above you. “What do you want me to do to prove it to you? You want me to kneel? Because I’ll go on my fucking knees for you,” he said, before lowering himself in front of you. And that was enough for you to come undone for the second time tonight.
He grabbed your legs, carefully stroking it before littering kisses all over your calves and thighs. You took a deep breath when he rolled up your dress again, exposing your stomach and cunt. Then he was in between your legs in seconds.
“Wait—” you panted. “Bucky,” you said, tugging onto his hair. “The windows.” 
The blinds to the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of his New York City penthouse were still open.
“Fuck the windows. Let the world see. That’s what you wanted right? Me on my knees for you,” he said, licking a stripe up your folds. “Let everyone know you’re the only person I would go on my knees for.”
You clenched at his words which caused Bucky to chuckle, his hot breaths hitting your already overheated core. 
The flickering of his tongue combined with the sucking was too much. He was going down on you like a starved man and you pulled on his hair harder when his tongue hit that spot that made you see stars.
“Stop moving,” he grunted, gripping your legs even tighter. “You taste so damn sweet.”
You were trembling by now and he brought one of his hands to your chest to stabilize your body—grabbing and kneading the flesh while he was at it.
Everytime his nose rubbed at your clit, you could feel your orgasm come closer and closer. And when you finally release, Bucky made sure to clean you up with his tongue, not letting a single drop of you go to waste. When he came up, the scruff on his jaw was wet with your arousal. 
“Fuck,” you breathed out, trying to come down from both your high and at the sight of him.
“I love you,” he murmured. 
At that moment, you realized one thing. The entirety of New York might want a piece of him—the handsome self-made CEO whose eyes were enough to bring both women and men to their knees—but the only person he’ll ever go on his knees for was you. You’re the one he comes home to. He was yours. Completely, wholly, yours.
Before you got a chance to repeat those words back to him, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulders.
“Ah!” you squealed, “Bucky! What are you doing!”
He gave you a smack on the ass before carrying you towards the bedroom. “We’re not done here,” he said. “I’ll give you all the attention you want, baby. We have all night.”
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pseudowho · 6 months
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Kento Comes Home Drunk
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(help me find the Nanami artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)
The reader manages her drunk, horny fiancé, Nanami Kento, like an absolute champ.
Link to the sequel here: Reader Comes Home Drunk
WARNINGS: 18+, soapy handjobs (F to M), mutual masturbation, cumshots, ethics of consent, Kento being a sloppy drunk
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Hope he's having a good time, you mused to yourself, nursing a late cup of tea. The clock ticked well past midnight; you were the overnight on-call for Curse-related shenanigans, so whilst you had wanted to join Satoru, Shoko, Ino, Ijichi and Kento for drinks, you had, instead, waved Kento off, and settled in for a night with your phone on loud, and late-night game shows.
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"Hate to see you leave," you'd sighed at 6pm, bobbing upwards for a kiss. He had traded his work attire for a buttoned black shirt, and simple dark jeans. Effortlessly handsome. You buried your face in his chest, breathing his cologne, and gave him a playful shove on the chest, like trying to push a truck.
He stepped backwards, with a lopsided smile and his hand reached out to pinch your chin affectionately.
"But love to watch me go?" You winked at him. You were wearing his favourite outfit; your oldest pyjamas. He found something so sexy about you being comfy. You preened at him, cradling your first tea of the night.
"You know it." He chuckled, but became serious immediately after.
"Call me if you're called out overnight. I want to be around if anything...happens." You nodded, hand on heart.
"Good luck beating off other women with sticks. Hope you've practiced your comedy rejections."
Kento hummed sagely, "Bold of you to assume I'm a man? My doctor said I shouldn't until the smallpox has cleared up? Undskyld, jeg taler ikke Japansk?"
You laughed, gave him one final kiss, and waved him out of the door.
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Firmly lost in late-night TV and stifling a yawn, you noted the time; nearly 2am. As you smilingly hoped Kento was having fun, there was a firm tap at the door. You rose to answer it, and you paused to hear shuffles, bumps, hushed voices and fumbled keys. Rolling your eyes, you opened the door to a waft of whisky fumes dressed as your fiancé.
"Fiancé delivery service! Sorry for the late call ma'am, I tried to throw him over the gate but he was too heavy." Satoru heaved Shoko higher onto his back, and she groaned, face first in his shoulder. Ino and Ijichi swayed behind him, quietly huddled over Ino's phone and arguing over what food to order.
You smirked up at Kento, who was possibly more gorgeous while dishevelled, shirt half untucked, sleeves rolled, and stumbling into the hallway to kick his shoes off. He walked the confident walk of a drunk man back towards the door, possessively looping an arm around your waist and planting a sloppy kiss to your neck. Glaring at Satoru, he gripped the doorframe.
"I didn't need you to get me home, Gojo. I'm not drunk." Kento shuffled his whole face into your neck, gripping your pyjamas hard. You thanked Satoru, and sent him off to deliver the other drunkards home. Kento slammed the door hard, and backed you up against the wall while you laughed, slapping at his chest as he mumbled incoherent greetings against the side of your face.
"Behave yourself, buddy, you're hammered. Let's get you to bed." He groaned cheerfully, taking this as an invitation. His eyes met yours, unusually playful, and with a wink started to slowly unbutton his shirt. You rolled up a nearby newspaper and swatted his hands. Mouth watering at the sight of his abs, you sternly told yourself off.
"It is unethical to have sex with drunk people when you're sober. I don't know what you think you're getting tonight, but you should adjust your expectations." Bodily manhandling him, you turned him around while he grumbled at you, urging him towards the bathroom. He sat against the counter, bum accidentally setting off the tap in the sink, while you set the shower running. He stumbled and cursed behind you, trousers now wet and clinging to his muscled thighs. You heard him stripping while you waited for the water to heat up.
He thinks he's being sneaky, you thought to yourself as Kento pressed himself into your back, erection now full and visible against his underwear, and his hands slipped boldly under your pyjamas. While one hand reached up to cup your breast, the other snuck down to graze against the top of your mound. Involuntary shivers of pleasure ran down your spine, his wet mouth on your neck smelling of hot whisky and smoke.
"I have full capacity," Kento purred against your neck, tongue trailing up to your ear now, "and I'm so delighted my girl is still home, and I'd love nothing more than to make her the final taste on my tongue tonight." He stopped, musingly, his gaze at you still drunk and fluttering.
"Unless you don't want to," he pondered, taking his hands from your body. You pouted up at him, crossed arms and faux-angry, and nodded towards the shower.
"You smell like a bar. Behave yourself." Kento chuckled at you, cracking his neck and sighing, absent-mindedly palming his erection through his underwear. His cock sprang up as he finished undressing, pink-tipped and perfect, and you couldn't resist looking him up and down. He stepped into the shower, hot water cascading down his broad shoulders. Leaning one hand against the glass, he eyed you ruefully again.
"I'll manage myself then, shall I?" Still leaning on the glass, his eyes drifted shut as his other hand trailed down his body to grip his wet cock. "Please don't feel obliged to stay." You tried to appear unaffected, and moved to turn, but paused as you heard the slow wet strokes of him pumping himself under the running water. The drink lowered his guard, and he let out a long, slow moan of relief as he pleasured himself, now totally oblivious to your presence.
You felt heat pool between your legs, your arms covered in goosebumps and your nipples pebbling under the cool pyjama fabric. You considered your options.
Still stroking himself, and gradually increasing the pace, Kento was imagining you riding him on the sofa, like you had done only days before, his hands on your eager hips as you told him how deep you could feel him. He groaned to himself, desperate to feel that intense intimacy and pleasure again, enhanced by the alcohol running through his system.
Thoughts interrupted by a tap on the shower glass, he opened his eyes to you, leaning against the bathtub, one hand moving slow circles over your clit and another rolling your nipple between your fingers. Lower lip between your teeth, you blushed as you watched Kento pleasure himself.
Kento moaned unashamedly, swiping his thumb over his tip, cock twitching furiously in his hand.
"I'll return the favour, I promise," he begged you, eyes fully focused on where your hand moved steadily beneath your pyjamas, feeling his pulse quicken as you flushed and moaned, legs weakening against the tub, "I know what you're like when you come home drunk, you're a nightmare, saying no to you is a chore."
Lip still between your teeth you smiled at him, and, now feeling especially naughty, you moved to straddle the lip of the bathtub. Kento's jaw dropped as you began to ride it, sighing his name as if he wasn't there, now slipping your pyjama top down to release your aching breasts.
"Shit...please get in here before I lose my mind," and he stopped stroking himself, hand gripping the base of his cock as pre-cum trickled out, merging with the running water. His head was still spinning with the alcohol, but his senses were sharpened by your performance, so he watched you hungrily, determined that he'd cum inside you if he had any say in the matter.
You continued to hump the side of the bath, shuddering, eyes glinting with mischief.
"How can I trust that you know what you're asking?" You replied breathlessly, "It is unethical. I'd be taking advantage. I'd hate for you to regret me in the morning."
Kento grinned at you. "But watching me is fine? It seems worse somehow. Regret you," he scoffed. Humour aside, Kento shifted uncomfortably, grunting as his cock continued to throb in his hand. "Get in here," he wheedled, "and stop fucking the bathtub in front of me, and use me instead."
You acquiesced, resolve cracking. Stripping quickly, you slipped into the shower, pressing against him and immediately gripping his pulsing shaft. He stuttered and whined, hands pressed back against the glass, panting as you squeezed him.
"Alright, you win," you breathed against him, licking the flat of your tongue across his nipple, tasting the sweat and nightclub on his skin, "but I will absolutely remember this when I'm the one who's drunk and begging."
You spun Kento around again, and reached around his hips to grasp his cock just as he would as he pleasured himself. He continued to pant, whining and begging you for relief. You rubbed his tip with the flat of your palm, teasing, before starting to stroke from the head to the base of his cock in well-practiced motions.
Kento moaned and murmured sweet praise. His hands pressed against the glass, fingers flexing and unfolding as you fondled his bum lovingly, nipping his shoulder blades and sweeping your wet hand up and down his cock, gently twisting and squeezing at the head until he was gasping. You kept a steady pace, Kento occasionally thrusting forwards into your hand, calling you his good girl, his sweetest thing, being so good to him.
Head swimming with the alcohol, Kento gladly accepted the handjob, overwhelmed by the pleasure and steam of the shower. As he was about to turn to insist on bending you over against the shower wall, your second hand crept round to his throat and squeezed just hard enough for his moan to catch in his chest. Balls tightening and abdomen twitching, Kento gasped as you whispered into his ear; "be a good boy and cum in my hand".
Kento broke, wave after wave of pleasure rushing through him, strengthened by the drink, as thick spurts of cum shot into your hand and against the shower glass. He moaned your name, hips thrusting sloppily, one hand reaching round to squeeze your waist. Your pace slowed, squeezing gently as you pumped every last drop out of him.
Kento slumped against the glass, a dopey satisfied smile on his face, and hummed happily as he felt a soapy sponge start to clean his back. By the time you had gently scraped your nails through his hair, rinsing him of the last suds, he was barely awake in the steamy bathroom.
"Come on, big guy. Let's get you to bed." Kento frowned at you, looking faintly guilty.
"But I haven't done anything for you." You stroked his cheeks, full of affection.
"Trust me, that did plenty for me. I'll be storing that in my head for a long time."
Kento blushed, but allowed you to lead him to bed and dry his hair. He was face down in bed and asleep within seconds, his body relaxed, his tense muscles loose and softened.
You hesitated before checking the time; if you hadn't been called out by now, you probably wouldn't be, you convinced yourself. Pulling on one of Kento's shirts, you sat your phone by the bed and slipped under the sheets, tucking close to his warmth with one knee lifted over the small of his back.
"Still think I took advantage of you," you mumbled to Kento, before falling asleep to his warmth and deep, soft breaths, safe and happy in the dark.
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This best boy deserves a soapy handjob
And the sequel, Reader Comes Home Drunk, link here.
1K notes · View notes
starstruckmoony · 7 months
Note
Hi, could I request a enemies to lovers with Enzo? Love your writing :))
tysm for the request anon!! i am so so sorry for taking ages to post this but i got veryyyyyy carried away and it may or may not be too long BUT i hope you enjoy it and that it's similar enough to what you imagined <3
king of my heart.
masterlist , requests
pairing - lorenzo berkshire x reader
summary - you and lorenzo are both sore, jealous losers with egos the size of jupiter, so you decide that you hate one another and that academic competing is the way to go. you keep that up for six full years, until something rather unfortunate happens and destroys your entire game plan.
trope/tags - enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, angst, fluff
word count - 12.8k
warnings - language, smoking
if there was one thing every single person who ever crossed your path knew about you, even if you were barely acquainted, was that you had sort of been raised without the ability to accept that you cannot always come out on top. it was simply incomprehensible. you'd been told that you were a gifted kid from the moment you became aware of your pathetic little existence. it did wonders to your ego. your smarts and determination amused your tutors, petrified them even. and the better you got, the more motivation it sparked in you.
you intended to keep things going your way when your acceptance letter for hogwarts arrived in the mail. you weren't worried, not even a little bit, and neither were your parents. being the best of the best was a running thing in your family.
unsurprisingly, it couldn't have started off better. your professors loved you. other kids envied you. each essay and exam result you'd ever recieved was the textbook definition of perfect. your grades were nicer that aphrodite's reflection in the mirror, as hermione had told you once. it was a lot coming from her. she was also amongst the few of the smartest, most hardworking students in your year, but you never felt threatened by her, or anybody else for that matter. there was, weirdly, no jealousy. on her part, at least, considering you so very effortlessly secured your spot as top of the class and never let anybody take it. she'd always be happy for you like the good friend she was, proudly patting you on the back, yet you couldn't help but think if she ever felt a little angry behind that supportive smile of hers.
and funny enough, you were finally able to stop pretending to know what it was like one fine wednesday before the christmas holidays. you had come into class more confident than ever that morning, smugly waiting for your potions essay results. you were hoping for a hundred, but a ninety nine, maybe even a ninety eight, didn't seem so bad either. that would have been, if lorenzo berkshire hadn't got his essay back with a score better than yours. he, much like yourself, was just another sore loser who craved academic validation like a drug, silently fuming whenever somebody surpassed him. he had dealt it with for months, watching you ace everything from charms to transfiguration, and always being second to you. the jealousy consumed his entire being, and he was kind of going mental, so you one could only imagine how ecstatic he was when he saw your face twist with dread after snape praised him in front of everybody. he wouldn't have hidden that mocking grin on his face if you held a knife to his throat and it made you want to choke him to death, for lack of better term.
"l/n." he sang as he successfully caught you in the corridor right after the said lesson. twat. you ignored him and increased the speed of your steps, biting the inside of your cheek, so hard that it began to sting. you didn't instantaneously realise how desperate he was to get your attention, but it became a lot clearer when he stood in front of you, entirely blocking your path. your little attempts to confuse him and avoid the situation were useless. it was kind of pathetic.
"what do you want?" simply shoving him to the ground and acting like it never happened would have done the job, but god forbid you swallowed your pride for once. 
"c'mon, don't be so pissy, i'm just trying to make conversation." you saw right through him, anyone would. him? wanting to make conversation with you? after death-glaring you every lesson for three months straight? and then bursting your bubble and being so smug about it? you almost scoffed, "you're in my way."
"oh, my apologies." he moved to the side and bowed dramatically, waiting for you to leave. you rolled your eyes, and took a single step forward, just to have him come right back to his original spot.
"move." you tried to shove him and even attempted to run for it, but he was faster than you. your nostrils flared, "you know that today was just dumb luck, right?" you crossed your arms, thinking you'd get under his skin, but there was no sign of change on his face. on the contrary, he was more accomplished than ever. you were fuming.
"i wouldn't call it that." he tilted his head to the side, observing your face.
"alright then," you copied his movements, "plagiarism?" his smile fell a little. it made you a lot happier than it should have. you expected victory from that senseless squabble, but lorenzo wasn't the type of person who backed down so easily. that was something you should have known.
"you're projecting." he shrugged, blankly staring at you.
"projecting?" you almost stuttered.
"projecting. pick up a dictionary, yeah?" he gave your head a tiny pat, and left you standing in the hallway, dumbfounded, angry, and a little humiliated.
that moment alone set off a feud that changed the trajectory of your miserable lives forever. each time he did better than you, whether it was on an essay, an exam, flying lessons even, your urge to wipe his existence of the face of the earth got stronger. the feelings were mutual on his part. you went back and forth like that for a while, trying not to be that obvious about it, but one could only hide their true feelings for so long.
it started off with hushed insults, which got strategically thrown around every time you'd cross each other's path. having other people notice your diminishing confidence was proper nightmare fuel, so you kept it as subtle as possible. then it turned into shoving and pushing, which was enough to set off some alarm bells in the heads of your friends. neville had told you that it wasn't worth it, and draco, of all fucking people, had told lorenzo to tone it down, but you refused to listen. you offered a few empty promises, saying that you'll sort it out sooner or later (sort out as in make sure you never let lorenzo get a score higher than yours again, but that was not going to happen).
your sooner or later turned into a few godawfully long years. saying you hated him may have seemed like an overstatement, but there was no other way to describe that burning feeling of i want to fucking kill you that entirely took over you whenever you laid your eyes on him. it kept getting worse and worse, without you realising just how bad it had become. your little competitions had completely lost their significance. it didn't matter who was first anymore. it could be ron or pansy, and you wouldn't bat an eye. all you cared about was surpassing each other, even if you were among the average with your scores.
that being said, it became an open secret of sort. as stupid as you made your classmates out to be, they were not, and they quickly put the missing puzzle pieces together. one of them spread a rumour that you tried to kill lorenzo, or vice versa, you couldn't really remember. and frankly, you couldn't blame them. you had given them more than enough reasons to think that you hated his guts. the most ridiculous instance had to have been the one during potions class when snape assigned you to work together. you could have placed a bet of two million galleons that he did it on purpose. it was like he wanted you to fail.
lorenzo had managed to insult you before he even took a seat at your table, calling you too stupid to work with in front of the entire class. you told him that he was a daft idiot when he unwillingly slumped down into the empty seat next to you, which had only set him off more. you accepted your fates almost immediately, knowing that whatever task snape assigned to you wouldn't be done, even if it cost you your grades.
just like you predicted, you did everything but what you were supposed to; spilled every sort of liquid there was all over each other's things, broke a few glasses, set two notebooks on fire, and burnt a hole in the table. you had stuck him to his chair, too, and lost a few house points as a result.
***
a sane person would have reached a certain point and stopped, pushing all of those stupid grudges aside. forgive and forget, that whole talk. hopelessly, your friends thought you would have got over it as you were growing older and that you would have chosen basic human decency over some hurt feelings and an insignificant competition no one gave a shit about. but no. you were not sane. you were ruthless, and you continued trying to make each other miserable like your lives depended on it. you hated lorenzo berkshire, and he hated you just as much. you were too naive and caught up in it all to realise that it'll come right back for you later.
it was like some sick obsession. from obvious sabotaging during classes whenever you got assigned to work together (followed by unsatisfactory results you blamed the other for) to throwing insults at each other in the corridors where everybody was set to hear you, you had checked every single one off.
you called him a useless arsehole on a daily basis. he called you an insufferable bitch every time he saw you. you had cursed out each other during lessons and done even worse things when nobody was looking. and if anyone did see you and try to get involved and call you names, it was bad news for them. you were each other's enemies to insult and demean and degrade and ruthlessly bully, nobody else's. only you were allowed to call him a cockroach, and only he was allowed to call you a snake. your relationship with lorenzo was nothing you could explain to somebody with a fully functioning brain, even if you tried.
one night in your fifth year, you had successfully snuck out in search of some sort encyclopaedia to help you out with your DADA assignment. none of the books which you were allowed to use did good enough of a job at making it easier, so you were hoping that the restricted section would have something better to offer - which it did. you couldn't recall the last time your trip to the library was that short.
to make things even better, you successfully avoided bumping into an annoying brunette who made your life oh so entertaining (unbearable). lorenzo wasn't anywhere to be seen. you smiled to yourself, feeling a sense of freedom at last. you were praying that the prick got bored of looming around the corridors all alone like a loser, waiting to terrorise you.
you began humming a tune you heard dean play on his old gramophone (one that got confiscated), and skipped around the corner to make your way to the grand staircase. mistake number one. you tripped over something, someone, but managed to stay on your feet as opposed to falling face-first onto the ground. you didn't even have to look back to know who it was.
"my, my, out rebelling again?" lorenzo leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, smirking in satisfaction when he noticed how you were grimacing. he stepped on one of the books you dropped, refusing to move when you tried to snatch it back.
"do you mind?" you spat, aggressively pulling it from under his foot. you straightened out your clothes and dusted yourself off before tucking the literature you had picked up under your arm.
"stealing?" he raised an eyebrow.
"borrowing." you corrected.
"without permission?" he tilted his head to the side in faux amusement, "i wonder what would happen if i alerted a professor about this."
"and you'd tell them what?" you scoffed, barely able to hold your laughter in, "that you saw me stealing while you were sneaking out to go for a casual wank?" what a fucking idiot. you rolled your eyes, turning away from him with the intention to walk away from the scene. you were not in the mood for his bullshit.
"yeah, yeah, run away like you always do." he uttered in disappointment, yawning. he knew exactly which buttons to push, and it wasn't surprising. you were familiar with each other's habits and emotions more than you'd like to admit. you stopped in your tracks. sighing, you set the books down onto the stone tiles, and spun around to face him once again.
"aguamenti." you cast the spell with an evil smile, and in a matter of seconds, a wave of water was shot straight in lorenzo's direction, leaving him soaking wet. he gasped out in shock; his clothes clung to his body. the water was unbearably cold, it was so fucking freezing, he could barely move. the commotion was noisy enough to alert filch and his beloved ms. norris, but those were the last of your worries. your felt rather fulfilled, that was what mattered.
"you asked for it." you shrugged, but did not turn your back on him just yet. that would have been the easiest way for him to attack, so you mistakenly waited, thinking he would strike for you. he dug his wand out of his pocket, and muttered a spell, "vermiculus."
you whipped your head in the direction in which he pointed his hand, realising what happened a second too late. he had turned your precious books into worms. you yelped in surprise and stepped away from the disgusting mess on the ground, your back bumping into his chest. you turned to face him and gave him a harsh push, backing him up into the wall and shoving your wand into his face.
"uncast it." you demanded. he laughed. how stupid did you have to be to even think that he'd listen to you, "no."
"berkshire." your words came out louder than expected. you wouldn't have been shocked if you saw a teacher coming around the corner to reprimand the both of you for looming around so late, but you didn't care.
"undo the damn spell." you repeated, just about ready to strangle him if you deemed it necessary.
"no." he pushed you away and took a hold of his own wand. he tried to disarm you, but failed miserabley. two could play at that game, then "stupif-"
"what's going on here?" filch's scratchy voice stopped you mid-spell. your head snapped towards him, and you instinctively stuck your wand inside of your clothes as if he hadn't already seen it. being too preoccupied by trying to come up with an explanation that you hadn't previously used to get yourself out of trouble, you had forgotten about the slimy creatures crawling on the floor. a worm wiggled towards you, too close for comfort, and you scrambled to get away, clumsily bumping into lorenzo once again. he gave you a somewhat gentle shove to get you away, and you kicked him in response, right in the shin.
"she tried to drown me." he explained with an irritated groan, rubbing the sore spot on his leg.
"he destroyed school property." you added dramatically, wishing to kick him one more time. filch's eyes trailed over to the filth beside your feet, and he made a face of disgust before instructing you both to follow him to dumbledore's office.
the whole ordeal ended with the books being safely returned to their spot on the shelves of the restricted section, a half-assed DADA assignment and the two of you getting put on bathroom cleaning duty for seven days straight (no magic allowed). it was probably the biggest mistake of dumbledore's life.
the bathrooms were not cleaned properly once. in fact, they'd only end up in conditions which were about ten times worse than their default ones. lorenzo was too busy spilling bucketfuls of water, dirty or clean, all over you to care whether he scrubbed the junk off every single sink there was (payback for the stunt you pulled on him in the corridor), and you were too busy hitting him with funny smelling toilet brushes (made sure you got all that rubbish into his hair, too) to polish the tiles and mirrors to perfection like you were told to do. it was disgusting and sickeningly entertaining at once. dumbledore considered punishing you with some other method, but gave up seeing what the boys' toilets looked like after night four. not even detention was able to come between the two of you. limits and common sense weren't either.
***
in your sixth year, the unimaginable happened. there wasn't a single soul who saw it coming, not even yourselves. maybe it was magic. maybe it was a sign from the universe. maybe some higher power did everybody justice. whatever it was, it sent your professors into a spiral. their shitty damage control was finally paying off, as cruel as it turned out to be.
classes had become increasingly more difficult than they were in previous years. to follow, to manage, to keep track of, and everything in between. mcgonagall had pulled you outside twice, asking you what was wrong after she had noticed that you were falling behind. many of your peers were, actually, but nobody would have ever expected it from you. the results you'd achieve weren't always as perfect as they were in your first year, though you had never struggled to get past eighty points until then. it was singlehandedly the worst thing that could have ever happened to you. priorities were hard to sort out, so there was a noticeable decline in your performance. you were absolutely miserable, and it did not get better, only worse. so bad that you had forgotten that you had a certain slytherin to compete with.
it was the day before halloween night, lessons had come to an end. your friends scattered around different places – some to the great hall, some to hogsmeade, some headed straight to bed, all intending to clear their minds after a stressful week of difficult assignments and dreadfully challenging essays. nearly every student left the transfiguration classroom with a relieved smile, happy that even their low scores ensured them a pass. hermione got a ridiculous amount of praise for her outstanding results, and even an encouraging pat on the back from mcgonagall.
so, a wonderful end of october for everybody but yourself. your expectations weren't high when you handed your toughest essay in. you thought you'd get sixty points at best. not hoping for much, yet still trying to ignore the worst possible outcome - one that was bound to get you someday like proper karma. but that wouldn't actually happen, would it? there was no way. it was impossible. you felt like a bloody idiot.
you failed. you fucking failed. for the first time in your life. and it was much more humiliating than you had imagined. you were so upset with yourself that you hadn't even bothered to pester lorenzo about his results, and strangely, he hadn't approached you either. no glances, no death glares, no hushed insults. not during the lesson, not after.
you left the transfiguration classroom trying your hardest not to cry, ignoring all of your friends and wishing to get out of the castle as soon as possible. you needed to be alone. you weren't looking for anybody's comfort, validation or their empty words of sympathy that would lose their meaning the moment you fixed the mess you were in. so you went to the black lake; where very little people preferred spending time, where you could be at peace with your own thoughts, and where you could catch a much needed break, even if it was only for a little while.
you slumped down onto the grass with a thump, bringing your knees up to your chest and letting your tears fall. you failed. for merlin's sake, you failed. it was like everything you had ever known was suddenly gone. you weren't even worried about what your parents or professors would say. truthfully, you couldn't give less of a damn. you were so disappointed that you had blocked out everything and everyone else, or whatever stupid opinion and solutions they might have had to offer. everyone, except for lorenzo and that dumb game you two were, for an even dumber reason, still playing. he must have been oh so happy to hear about your failure. he'd never let you live it down, you knew it.
"l/n?" speak of the fucking devil. he always had fantastic timing.
"get out of my sight before i throw you into the lake." you spat, wiping your tear-stained face with your sleeve, not looking at him.
"shiver me timbers." he sang, not feeling threatened at all.
"berkshire." you warned, turning your head towards him and meeting his gaze. you shouldn't have moved. worry flashed through his face for a brief moment when he caught a glimpse your puffy eyes, and he pressed his lips together, guilty. could he actually bring himself to pester you while you were in such a terrible condition? no, he couldn't, regardless of the resentment he felt towards you.
he cleared his throat and took a step closer. you sighed, staring back at the landscape spread out in front of you without uttering a word, "what happened?" he questioned hesitantly.
"nothing that concerns you." you attempted to shut him down. he raised both of his eyebrows, a little amused, "someone upset my favourite rival," he scoffed, "of course it concerns me."
you rolled your eyes, "just leave, will you?" but did you really want him to? your voice shook as you spoke. you despised the part of you that was wishing for him to stay. you wanted to be alone more than anything, but you knew you'd break down again if he listened to your plea and left you there. you'd take his overused insults over failure any day.
"not until you tell me what happened." your jaw clenched, and you muttered a quiet curse, knowing that he most likely wouldn't let up. as if that one would miss out on an opportunity to annoy you. he settled down in the grass, right next to you, waiting.
you sat in silence for what felt like forever. he didn't push you to speak again, and you were pretty reluctant to say a single thing. not even calling him names seemed tempting. you sighed for the nth time, starting to tear up again, "i got my essay back with thirty points." you sniffled, silently preparing yourself to get made fun of.
"fuck," you heard him mumble, and he scratched his head shortly before speaking, "if it makes you feel better, i got twenty eight." getting on your nerves was always in his best interest. although, having to see you so seriously upset was not on his bucket list, not anymore. you stared at him in shock, frowning, "what?"
he nodded. the look on his face was so sullen that you were starting to believe him, "are you not taking the piss?"
he snorted, "i wish i was," he avoided your gaze, "i, uh," he pursed his lips in thought, letting out a breath of frustration, "i was convinced i'd do well even if i started last minute... without research, but uh, guess i was wrong." you hummed, doubtful.
"why are you telling me all this?" you shook your head and trailed your eyes back to the lake, finding it rather difficult to believe that he was being so... nice. it was your first normal conversation and you had no clue what to make of it.
"who else am i supposed to tell it to?" he responded, annoyed. you bit the inside of your cheek, just as irritated, picking up a pebble. you examined it shortly before throwing it into the water.
lorenzo watched you curiously, having very little to say, which was terribly weird in itself. lorenzo berkshire not having a single unnecessary, offending comment to offer? your failures had truly taken a toll on you, completely.
"i can't believe we both fell off." you said in wonder, throwing another rock below the surface.
"right," he agreed, without an urge to backtalk, "fucking hell, i've no reason to hate you now." he blurted out, horrified by his own words.
"fantastic, now i suck at that too." you let out a dry, emotionless chuckle. you weren't crying anymore, just silently fuming at lorenzo for being the one to stop it without even properly trying.
"you suck at everything." he corrected.
"i take after you." you retorted nonchalantly.
"dumbass." he bit back a smile.
"dickhead." you were struggling just as hard. holding in your laughter was never more challenging, but you were determined not to break character.
you found yourselves in an eerily comfortable silence. by the looks of it, things would be alright. knowing that he messed up too somehow put you at ease. not even because you were happy to him fail, but more at the thought that it just happened to be at the same time as you. you found a certain dose of comfort in it. it was written in the stars, as it seemed.
"get lost now." you broke the bubble you found yourselves in. it was about time you got back on track. there was no way you'd get all friendly and gushy with him, even after whatever that was.
"alright, alright." he stood up, groaning as he did so. he dusted off the pieces of grass that got stuck to his trousers.
he stared back at the lake shortly, waiting to see if you'd say anything else he could offer a witty response to. he was a bit sad when you didn't, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers, sighing, "well, i shall see you-"
"never." you finished that for him.
"perfect." he added, turning on his heel and heading towards the castle. you allowed yourself to glimpse at him one last time, simply not being able to let him have the last word.
"you've got some on your arse." you were talking about the remainder of the grass that was stuck to his clothing. he stopped to clean it up, and then flipped you off wordlessly.
you thought that was the last of your civilised interactions. there was no reason for you to bore your mind with it. you happened to fall behind at the same time and it gave you a decent bonding moment, but it was nothing more than that. just two people who claimed they didn't like one another very much talking properly for once. nothing, it was nothing. simple as that. so you weren't able to pinpoint why you kept looking back on it nearly every day, or why you felt so guilty for calling him stupid and useless, or why making fun of him for getting a lower score than you wasn't rewarding anymore, or why competing so fiercly was no longer satisfactory. and why he too, happened to feel just the same. maybe you had grown out of it.
you blamed it on the stress. you did have lots of different things occupying your mind anyway - such as your major arithmancy exam that you decided to pull an all nighter for.
for the first time in a while, you stayed inside the library past closing hours. madam pince wasn't too happy about it, but she liked you enough to let you crash there and warned filch not to throw you outside if he happened to notice you during his nightly patrol. the woman had some interesting tactics up her sleeve, none of which you ever questioned.
you swore, probably for the tenth time in the past two minutes, crumpling up yet another piece of parchment. you had to start over a ridiculous amount of times. the pile of rubbish on the floor was growing larger by the second. ripped up paper, bottles of ink, broken feathers, it was definitely a sight. there was no way you were getting through all of that on your own. and oh how that angered you. you rarely ever needed assistance with anything, but this was just a little bit above your level. that enraged you even more. a helping hand was starting to sound promising.
"you're still here?" you didn't even flinch, knowing all too well who that voice belonged to. did god or the devil just answer your prayers? you never got past your little habits of leaving the dormitories to do whatever there was to be done around the castle almost every night, so there he went, running into you again. lorenzo peeked out from behind the bookshelves in front of you, smiling like a little kid who was just about to do something egregiously silly. you couldn't not grin back, despite being angry.
"you're still here?" you repeated his question, crossing your arms.
"i asked first." he moved towards your desk, pulling out an empty chair and settling there next to you without even asking if you wanted him there. weird, that one.
"alright, and?" you teased further. he bumped your shoulder with his own. he wanted something. punching him suddenly sounded like a fine option. he looked over your arm to examine your notes.
"arithmancy?" he glared at you, kind of bemused. it was another subject he was that awfully good at, unlike you. you weren't terrible, but not exactly the best either. an infuriating thing.
"my favourite." you responded sarcastically, throwing your quill across the table. he hummed, sitting back in his chair, but not taking his eyes off of you. he definitely wanted something.
"what?" you could sense it already. he was gonna mock you again.
"do you need help with that, perhaps?" or maybe not. you looked at him, skeptical.
"from you?" you raised an eyebrow.
"well, i mean, yeah." he shifted in his spot, as if he was anxious. you did a double take, and then burst out laughing, wiping away a non-existent tear. he was just too damn funny. him helping you? that was a good one. you carried on with that little performance of yours for the next minute until it hit you that he wasn't joking.
"are you serious?" you asked, just to confirm. there was absolutely no chance.
"look, i can leave-" he stood up, "no," you grabbed a fistful of his sweater and pulled him back down. he yelped, startled, "what's your deal?" you weren't letting him get away with that so easily.
"what do you mean?" he was geniuenly confused.
"don't play fucking dumb," you jabbed a finger into his chest, "why are you being so kind to me all of a sudden?"
he laughed uncomfortably, scratching the nape of his neck, "well, i thought, you know, since it seems like we're no longer on about hating each other, that-"
"oh." you interrupted him, chuckling in disbelief. you shook your head, rubbing your temples in frustration and then letting your arms fall to your sides, "look, berkshire, just because i'm not trying to kill you anymore doesn't mean i want to be friends."
"what!? for fuck's sake, you're impossible." he stood up once more, this time darting out of your reach.
"here we go again." you rolled your eyes. you just couldn't interact without quarreling, could you? he paced around inbetween the bookshelves before returning to your table, "you're not exactly giving me any reasons to be nice right now."
"i never asked of you to be nice." you argued.
"you could appreciate me trying." he retorted. you had no idea what on earth he was trying to achieve. you could only think of so many explanations, "why? so that you could gain my trust and then stab me in the back when it's convenient for you?"
"that's what this is about?" he muttered something under his breath, "i thought we were past that rubbish."
you wanted to laugh hysterically, "okay, we may have pushed the resentment aside, but you can't exactly expect me to trust you."
he understood that, unbeknownst to you, "i never said that you needed to trust me," he sighed, leaning over the table, "listen, i offered to help you because i can see you're struggling. i'm not here to sabotage you if that's what you're worried about. i'd be wasting my time." he straightened his posture, standing there with his arms crossed.
"because i'm already terrible enough and don't need anyone's interference to properly fuck up, right?" you were prepared to tell him to bugger off if he refused to give you the answer you were looking for, furious at him and yourself.
he paused, hesitant. you were so fucking stubborn, and he loved you for it, "correct." alright then.
you picked up your quill, "sit down."
you got your exam back with a shocking score of eighty-nine, surpassing even hermione. not lorenzo, but you were second, and that was enough to have your ego flying right back through the roof.
i told you you could do it, he said, but not without me, he had to point out. you had to give him that. how could you not? he casually decided to save your life without you even asking for it. if it weren't for him, you most likely would have majorly fucked up on that exam. that's not saying that it wasn't difficult. he had no patience and you had even less, but you had somehow survived that night in the library without biting each other's heads off or getting into any additional fights. he even followed you back to your dorm, an offer he didn't allow you to refuse and one that you were too exhausted to complain about.
in the few weeks that followed, you decided that it was for the best that you block out whatever happened between you that night. christmas holidays were approaching, and you couldn't let that ruin your mood. lorenzo told you that mattheo said that it was a shift in the matrix. you had no idea what that meant, it sounded horrifyingly muggle, but you agreed for the sake of agreeing. a shift in the matrix, bloody nonsense. a coincidence, you called it. an accident, even. an accident that helped you out tremendously and made you reconsider lorenzo on nights when you couldn't sleep, but still an accident. 
who were you kidding? something had definitely changed. other students started noticing it too.
you had gradually become somewhat friendly rivals who'd rub their own success into each other's faces for the laughs till they got threatened with a jinx or tickled to death. some occasional name calling too, just not as intense. but you weren't friends. nothing near it. you had done a pretty good job at convincing yourself you never would be. treating him a little better than usual was the farthest you'd go trying to mend all those years of jealousy and grudges. that was what you started living by, pushing away that strange tingling sensation that would coarse through you every time his hands happened to brush against yours when you walked side by side.
it is exactly why you almost spilled acidic liquid all over the table and burnt a hole in it again when he sat next to you during potions one fine afternoon.
snape was visibly mortified by the sight, partially because of that incident from two years prior (when you almost set the entire classroom on fire), and partially because he couldn't believe that mcgonagall was actually onto something when she purposefully failed you both. it would go down in history as one of the most ridiculous moments of his career. he sent a warning glare your way before beginning the lesson.
"excuse you?" you whispered once professor snape finally turned his back to the class, raising both of your eyebrows in question. was lorenzo asking to get violated?
"harry took my seat." he pointed towards the table where he usually sat. and shockingly enough, there was harry, sitting next to draco, for whatever sick and twisted reason. you gaped at them, then at lorenzo. not looking into that deeper was maybe for the better.
okay then. you didn't respond, trying to get into taking some notes like you were previously instructed. that would have been easy (it was for the first quarter of the lesson), if lorenzo's presence wasn't keeping you so alert, stopping you from focusing on what you deemed more important, "merlin, can you breathe a little quieter?" you snapped.
he purposely inhaled louder than he normally would, grinning proudly when your eyes rolled back into your brain. you kicked him under the table. he yelped, but oddly, covered it up with a cough. you glared at him, doubtful. that was not the reaction you were expecting to get.
you resumed trying to copy the crucial bits from the chapter snape assigned you all to analyse, very poorly. it was kind of impossible. you weren't used to having lorenzo sit so close to you for such an extended amount of time. ignoring him was unimaginably hard. your notes had never looked worse. words missing, constant mistakes, sensless scribbles. you reached for a new pot of ink after seeing that you had run out, and then felt his finger poke at your side.
you flinched, catching a glimpse of your professor who's head was still buried in the pile of assignments he needed to grade. he hadn't noticed you. good. but then lorenzo did it again, right where you were most ticklish, because he knew. you swatted his hand away, not missing the way he smiled to himself. little shit.
you reached to poke him too, and when you tried to pull away, he took a hold of your wrist, not letting go. he had a lot of good defense tactics up his sleeve. you didn't try to yank your arm out of his grip instantly, which was the perfect opportunity for him to tickle at your side with his free hand. this time, you held back a startled giggle, kicking him under the table one more time. he snorted, resuming his little game.
you were both sweating trying not to make too much noise, but neither of you was letting up, not letting the other have the satisfaction of winning. he eventually moved his chair closer to yours with the excuse to tickle you more effectively. your legs were touching under the table, but only because it was easier for you to kick him that way. it went on for at least fifteen minutes, until snape finally lifted his head, his eyes on the class. you separated, thinking you were being slick about it, when it was the least fitting explanation for what had been going on. the two of you had your lips pressed together, trying not to laugh. your professor could only sigh in response. at least you didn't set anything ablaze.
hermione tucked her arm under yours in the hallway when your lesson ended, grinning mischevously, "would you like to tell me what happened just now?" 
you scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully, "huh? i don't know what you're on about." you played dumb, despite knowing exactly what she was getting at. and you had no idea why. it's not like you had anything to hide.
"i think you do." she pushed. there was not a chance for you to get out of that conversation.
"really? i truly don't." you still tried, though. acting foolish was your only escape route.
"y/n." she dragged out, laughing and pulling you along with her. potions were your final lesson of the day, so you were already able to picture her desperate attempts to pull some information out of you all the way until bedtime.
"what? we were just fighting." you finally gave in. you knew you would have to eventually, but you loved your free time a little too much to let her annoying interrogation tactics drag on for so long.
"so you do know what i'm on about." she teased, scarily invested.
"what else could you possibly be on about?" you snapped, pushing away that uncomfortable feeling that settled in your chest. you had no reason not to tell her anything, so you couldn't pinpoint why you were feeling so guilty all of a sudden.
"the way you two sat closer together than every couple in our year?" she exclaimed, astonished by how shamelessly you were avoiding the subject.
you gasped, feeling a bit offended, or maybe called out. you couldn't tell which one it was, "that is not what happened." that was an overexaggaration if you ever heard one. was she out of her bloody mind? sometimes you thought that she enjoyed setting you off as much as lorenzo did.
you stepped through the portrait hole with the rest of your housemates, pushing through the crowd to get your dormitories faster. you wanted a nice shower, some peace and quiet for reading, and then decent sleep. it was that simple. you survived the walk through the common room without anyone asking additional invasive questions, immediately heading for the toilet once you arrived to your dorm.
you really needed that shower. it made you feel whole again. you stepped out after putting some comfortable clothes on, skipping over to your bed and then cursing out loud when you realised what was on it. amongst your own, there was lorenzo's fucking book. you had accidentally taken it when you scrambled to collect your things once class ended.
you could have just given it to him tomorrow, or not given it back at all. like he'd know who took it. it was incredibly tempting, but it also felt unnecessarily mean. what if he needed it to study that night? you brushed it off, not like it was your problem anyway. you sat down onto the mattress, picking up a novel from your nightstand and throwing the other books straight to the carpet so you could comfortably settle on your bed. you then put it back. you didn't feel like reading anymore. you laid there, thinking. peace was never an option in your world.
you groaned, snatching his book up from the floor and venturing back into the common room. you hadn't bothered to explain yourself to anybody, and you continued trotting over to the dungeons with a neutral expression on your face (neutral as in i am very much internally raging and if anybody tries to talk to me i might use the imperius curse on them). very useless it was, that relaxing shower of yours.
none of the slytherins lounging on the sofa questioned you, your appearance was pretty telling. good thing you ran into mattheo on the way there. getting in wouldn't have been so easy otherwise. you disappeared in the direction of their dormitories, stopping right in front of lorenzo's door. you swallowed harshly, begenning to get nervous. something was wrong with you.
you hesitated before knocking, tapping your foot against the ground furiously as you waited. "one second!" lorenzo yelled from the other side. it sounded like something had fallen over. the noise was followed by a few curse words and some shuffling before the door opened.
much to your dismay, you were met with a bare chested lorenzo, wearing nothing but a pair of trousers which loosely hung around his hips. his hair was wet, and his cheeks were a tinted with a light shade of pink. he had stepped out of the shower merely three minutes before you showed up. you inhaled sharply, swallowing the sound of surprise that almost escaped you and feeling your face heat up. his eyes went wide, given that he was taken aback much like yourself. you were the last person he was expecting to find on the other side of the door.
"hi." he greeted awkwardly, pulling his trousers up a bit as if it would help. you opened your mouth to speak, then closed it. opened it, before closing it again. you were pretty sure you resembled a damn fish. whatever was happening to you, you did not like it one bit.
"i- you- we- ithinkthisisyours." you finally spluttered, slamming the book into his chest. his hand touched yours momentarily when he grabbed it so that it wouldn't drop onto your feet. you felt lightheaded.
lorenzo was kind of freaking out, but only kind of, not even bothering to look at what you had given him at first. he was a little too busy staring at your blushing face, wondering what the hell was going on and why his heart was in his throat all of a sudden, "are you alright?" he queried, concerned.
"i am perfectly fine." that was a lie. 
"ah," he nodded, then eyed the piece of literature in his hands shortly as he slowly figured what it was, "oh! thank you."
you laughed in misery, "okay!" before shutting the door in your own face. you tripped and almost fell down the stairs as you ran, still flushed and your heart beating in a way that you found a little too unusual to push away.
you received a few judgemental glares from the students you had run past. the question marks were practically visible above their heads. you were too busy going hysterical to sneer at them for staring. you burst through the door of your dorm, breathless and blushing, "what the fuck?"
somewhere back inside the dungeons, a confused lorenzo turned to face his friends, still holding the book you had given to him. he had no idea what on earth happened, or why you reacted the way you did, or why he, deep down, found it more adorable than he'd like to admit. he groaned, falling face-first onto his bed. what the fuck, indeed. christmas holidays never looked more promising.
and oh how you regretted waiting for them with so much anticipation. you were supposed to get a break. from books, assignments, essays, whatever lorenzo was doing to you. hogwarts was supposed to be all yours. you weren't heading home that year. it was your parents' twentieth anniversary, so there was no point in going back, considering that you wouldn't see them (you didn't exactly have friends in your hometown either). they'd be having the time of their lives in the alps, and you'd be regretting every decision you had made up until that point.
not only because you were already bored out of your mind waiting for your friends to return, but because you saw lorenzo sitting at the slytherin table when you walked into the great hall on christmas eve. the image of him opening the door two weeks prior flashed through your mind. it happened often, in the most inconvenient situations too. you were hoping you didn't look too flushed.
"what are you doing here?" he questioned in amusement once you trotted over to him, an equally puzzled expression on your face. "i could ask you the same thing." 
"all in good time." he cleared his throat, awkward. it was weird, but you didn't think much of it just yet. instead you sighed, taking a quick look around, and then speaking, "my parents ditched me for a skiing trip."
he snorted, motioning over to the very empty seat beside him. you sat down, no thoughts behind it. he was the only person among the ones who stayed for the holidays who you knew enough to hold a conversation, so it's not like you had better options. besides, that was your chance to see if there was more to his sudden change in behaviour. you were unnerved at the idea of even having the desire to do such a thing.
"what's your excuse?" you reached over his arm to grab a piece of toast, as well as some jam and chocolate spread.
"parents as well." you didn't miss the way he shifted uncomfortably. you put down your knife and propped your arms on the table, eyeing him expectantly. he held back shortly, and you couldn't blame him. who were you to think that he'd trust you with a possible family issue?
"i was told that i'm a disappointment and i'm not allowed home until i get my grades in tact." he stabbed the bacon in his plate aggressively, not looking at you. your jaw dropped in shock.
"in tact?" you uttered in disbelief. it was practically common knowledge that lorenzo exceeded you in a lot of subjects, a little more than half of them actually, so in your mind, this shouldn't have even been a problem. he was one of the top students. everybody knew that. your parents expected you to do well too, but they weren't that pushy or strict. yeah, receiving a howler for momentarily falling behind in october was aggravating, but nothing that you couldn't bear. lorenzo's, however, were crossing a line.
he hummed, picking at his food, "don't say anything." he sighed, it almost sounded like a plea. he couldn't just ask you for comfort, or ask of you to understand. faux sympathy was the last thing he needed.
"no, it's just–" you chewed on the inside of your cheek and picked up your knife again, spreading some jam over the piece of toast you grabbed previously, "you're not a disappointment, that's bullshit." you bit into the crunchy bread, chewing it slowly, a sour expression on your face. lorenzo went a bit red, stumbling over his words before getting out a clumsy i know, followed by a hesitant thanks anyway. 
you said nothing for the remaining few minutes of breakfast, just eating in silence while other students chatted in background. when you were exiting the great hall together to return to your respective dorms, you made eye contact with mcgonagall for a brief moment. she offered you a proud smile, yet with a hint of mischief behind it. you had never been more confused.
you spent the first half of christmas day alone in the gryffindor common room, reading some trashy muggle romance novel you found under hermione's bed a couple of nights before. it was one of the worst books you had ever picked up, but there was something so annoyingly addicting about it that you just couldn't give it up. it left you feeling empty and lonely, and with a strong desire to fling yourself straight into the depths of the black lake.
"christ, l/n, why do you look so sullen?" you shut your eyes, exhaling through your nose. just what you needed. you weren't even gonna question lorenzo was doing there. you had a clue.
"you don't wanna know." you tossed the book across the room, internally celebrating when he decided not to investigate further.
he made a face, "merry christmas?"
"likewise." you replied blandly. when you didn't tell him to get lost, he jumped onto the sofa, getting comfortable next to you. he didn't look all too happy either.
you sat there for good twenty minutes, staring at the fire like your entire worlds were crumbling in front of your eyes. it didn't occur to the either of you how awful it would feel to spend christmas all alone for the first time. no presents, no childhood foods, no hugs from mum in the morning. you even missed your spoiled cousins who would nag you to play with them each time you visited their house on boxing day.
it fucking sucked, but god, at least lorenzo was there. you'd push aside everything that happened between you in the previous years just for a twinge of affection. something came over you, and you lowered your head onto his shoulder, almost sighing in relief when he didn't shove you away. he scooted closer and rested his head on top of yours, not speaking.
from that moment onward, you saw each other every day. he'd show up at your dorm at random moments and you'd show up at his at even worse ones. you'd take walks in the snow together and come back with soaking wet clothes and red noses. you'd smoke in the courtyard before bed after making sure the coast was clear. you'd go to hogsmeade and fight over who was gonna pay for the butterbeer until you came up with a nonsensical compromise. you'd sneak out at night to steal books from the restricted section of the library and then read them under covers in the slytherin dorms. you'd sometimes fall asleep next to each other and then act like nothing happened in the morning.
***
you expected it all to fade to nothing once everybody else came back to hogwarts, but then it didn't. you still took walks in the snow and argued over butterbeer and snuck out after midnight (and had to clean several toilets after getting caught almost every time). he still helped you with arithmancy without asking for anything in return, and you'd sometimes kiss him on the cheek if you were in a good mood. you thrived off of the expressions that would paint his face whenever you did that.
but with the return of other students also came whispers and rumours, following you around like shadows. you ignored them tactfully, not wanting to give anybody the satisfaction of confirming that their silly theories may have been right all along. especially not hermione. she wouldn't let you forget that until you perished. she'd probably leave a note on your grave too, so you'd have that humiliating reminder haunting you in the afterlife.
"i thought you two hated each other." mattheo deadpanned one evening after lorenzo had brought you to the slytherin common room, straight into the damn snake pit. you were squashed together on the sofa, a large book splayed open across your laps, not getting read. it was one of the stolen ones. all of his friends were there, watching you like hawks.
"we do." you responded nonchalantly, taking the cigarette that lorenzo handed you. you took a long drag before putting it back between his lips.
"then why do you spend so much time together?" draco was very obviously judging you. he of all people should have understood. lorenzo rolled his eyes.
"you are in no place to talk, mister i hate potter but snog him in my off time." blaise took your side, bless his soul, and tossed theodore's shoe in his direction. shutting draco up was easier than you would have thought.
"no, but why?" mattheo repeated draco's question, propping his chin up into his palm and observing you curiously.
"maybe, they're– wait, what do you call that?" theodore leaned into pansy, hoping she had an answer.
"masochists?" she replied casually and lit a cigarette herself.
you choked on your spit. lorenzo almost burnt a hole in the sofa. but then pansy brushed her friend off, staring at the two of you with a mischievous grin, "not really, i think they're just bad liars."
and she was so bloody right. hate was the last thing that could be used to describe your relationship. third year you's biggest nightmare was a better label for it, given that you couldn't even be in the same room as him without trying to turn him into something nasty.
present day you was having a difficult time stopping herself from trying to kiss him whenever he was in her presence. it was that fucking frustrating. you couldn't believe yourself. lorenzo was facing the same struggles, and you couldn't tell if he was worsening or subduing the tension by randomly touching you. not like you minded, you were loving it all and stopped bothering with trying to hide it from him. your ego may have been large, but your crush on him ended up being bigger.
potions class was usually the height of it all, although it wasn't the only period during which you got to sit next to your favourite rival. mcgonagall was was thriving, unlike snape, who simply could not get used to the positive energy surrounding you, or the way you were together each time he crossed your paths. seeing pure fear flash through his eyes at the beginning of every class was hilarious.
when lorenzo arrived, you felt yourself starting to smile and tried to push it away with the most unsettling thoughts you could muster. it did nothing. he sat down with a dramatic groan, and immediately started ranting about some minor issue he had run into that morning. he did that a lot. this time it was about his favourite pair of socks going missing. you sucked in practically everything he said, chuckled at the random curses, noticed every breath of frustration he released as he was rummaging through his bag. you didn't realise you were staring. lorenzo did, but he didn't comment on it. he liked when you were looking at him.
you failed to regsiter that the lesson officially began, but not much was happening, really. snape was telling you about felix felicis and how insanely difficult it was to make, while you were required to write down the most useful bits of the information he was giving out. when he finally sat down after assigning you to read an overly long passage, lorenzo shifted closer to you. you eyed him, puzzled.
"would you kill me if i asked you for a favour?" you focused half of your attention on the writing, half on him.
"depends what the favour is." you shrugged. he put his arm over the text to prevent you from reading. he wanted you to look at him. he had always wanted you to look at him. from the very moment your fued set off, it was one of those little annoying things that made your hatred for him stronger. not anymore, but it was still infuriating in its own way. you gave him your full attention. he may have seen some sparks fly. you had each other wrapped around your little fingers without even realising it.
he shifted even closer to you so that you could hear him better, considering that he had to whisper, "can you come to hogsmeade with me today?" his breath fanned over your ear as he spoke. you didn't respond, so he continued, "none of my friends want to and it would be stupid if i went alone. you do kind of owe me." ah, yes. for that time he saved you from detention after slughorn caught you two smoking in the astronomy tower. you shot him with an annoyed look. you both knew it was exaggerated and what your answer would be, yet you still played around with it. that's the way things went. he smirked. bitch.
"fine." he was so smug about it, you could choke him and snog him at the same time. he got his arm away from your textbook, but didn't retrieve his chair. you were squeezed next to one another despite having more than enough space. your arms were touching, and so were your legs beneath the table. you moved not a muscle, and neither did he. you had grown to like having him sit so close to you. it made you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside, helping you ignore the freezing winter air and the thick layer of snow covering the ground outside.
you met him in the courtyard after a quick change of clothing following the end of your classes for that week. when hermione asked you where you were heading and why you won't be staying in the common room with the rest of your friends, you told a half truth. that you were heading to hogsmeade, but then bolted out the door before she was able to ask with whom. she would guess either way.
"i forgot to ask you why we were doing this in the first place." you spoke as you left the school grounds, your hands shoved into your pockets and your face hidden inside of your fluffy scarf. you were a little cold. lorenzo was too, his nose was already going red. it was an adorable sight to see, but you weren't dumb enough to say that out loud.
"i wanna pick up a few poetry books." you bit your tongue, trying not to laugh at him.
"didn't know you could read." you snickered, it was stronger than you.
"you're so original," he mocked, "they're not for me. pansy's birthday's coming up so i figured i should get her something."
"oh." the disappointment in your tone was obvious.
all of your willingness to go with him left you in an instant. his presence was more irritating than ever. he furrowed his eyebrows as he watched you chew on the inside of your cheek, wondering if he said something wrong. again... or not. lorenzo was smarter than that.
"what, are you jealous?" he nudged you, teasing. yes. you hated yourself just a tiny bit for that, "no," you scoffed, "in your dreams, berkshire."
"we both know you can't fool me." he kept the act going. you gave him a shove, making him stumble. he almost tripped and fell in a pile of snow. it was very funny. he tried to get back at you, but you slipped out of his reach, laughing when he began chasing you.
spending time with him was like a getaway from all the things that drove you mad, even though he sometimes excelled at that. he became a friend you didn't know you needed and a friend you were pretty sure you were catching some major feelings for.
you entered the bookstore as your unplanned snowball fight came to an end, its warmth immediately engulfing you. after being in the cold for longer than intended, it was just what you desired. you stuck with lorenzo for the first few minutes, helping him out and leading him away from the large isle of erotic novels he accidentally found himself in. people were looking at you weird, especially your schoolmates, so you stepped away from the crowded bits of the shop and decided to check out different sections.
a certain book had caught your eye – its contents intrigued you, but the price did something opposite. you put it back on the shelf without second guessing yourself. you hadn't brought any money with you. you continued roaming through the different isles, browsing through various books while you waited for lorenzo to finish. you lost sight of him for a few minutes, too busy debating whether to make him come back with you here some other time so you could purchase whatever your heart desired.
for the time being, you'd have to leave the shop with empty hands. lorenzo was luckier and ended up getting five poetry books which all seemed to be written by the same author, except for one. he handed you the odd one out. you opened your mouth, ready to complain about your fingers being cold and not wanting to carry it. slowly, you realised what it was. your jaw dropped a little.
he had seen you looking at it ever so longingly when he went to check up on you after realising you had gone off on your own. he picked it up without hesitation. you were too stunned to thank him, too stunned to say anything, for the matter. but he wasn't exactly expecting a thank you. he was just happy that you liked it, grinning when you blushed and struggled to keep it cool.
"you shouldn't have done that." you chastised. those were the only words you could muster. he rolled his eyes, "deal with it."
you punched his shoulder. he didn't even flinch, "you're welcome."
when he threatened to ruin your life when you were twelve years old, this wasn't how you thought it would happen.
"i'm gonna kill you." you weren't exactly addressing him, more like talking to yourself.
"you're still on about that?" he huffed, pretending to be bored.
"lorenzo!" you groaned, he chuckled, "i love you too." your eyes almost popped out of their sockets. his weird confession seemed unserious, but your heart still fluttered. little did you know that he wasn't as oblivious as you imagined.
he was positively glowing at the reactions he was getting from you. his tiny year five crush on you had blossomed into something stronger after that moment at the lake a couple of months prior, and at last, the possibility of you feeling the same wasn't looking so small. if only you saw through his actions. all those offers of help, and his complete dismissal of your rivarly, and his clinginess, and how he stuck to you like glue whenever he got the opportunity.
your walk back to the castle surprisingly wasn't silent. you were chatting quietly, snickering amongst yourselves. your shoulders brushed occasionally, and so did your hands, and you thought your heart might burst. you shivered as the wind got stronger, pressing yourself a little closer to him.
"you okay?"
"huh?" you didn't register what he said at first, "oh, yes. just a little cold, that's all." you explained, not taking your eyes away from the pathway you were pacing across.
"let's hurry up, then." he took a hold of your hand, swiftly leading you back to the castle. you were so, royally fucked. you clutched onto the poetry book tightly, focused on regulating your breathing. your entire face was on fire, your breaths ragged, heart beating rapidly against your ribcage.
four days later, you caught a terrible cold after accidentally falling asleep by the window while you were reading. hermione said that she expected better from you. she was fantastic help. you were pretty sure you were dying. your limbs hurt. your head was throbbing. your sinuses were clogged. your throat felt like someone had stuck a knife into it. but did you skip any lessons because of it or at least visit madam pomfrey to see if she could do anything? no, you weren't that helpless. you'd deal with it on your own.
or try to, at least. you stumbled into class resembling a zombie, eager to sit down and hopefully not do much work for the day. you placed your arms on the desk, laying your head into them and shutting your eyes. you opened them only a few seconds later when lorenzo shifted next to you. you were met with his worried face, just a couple of centimeters away from yours. when you didn't budge, he touched your cheek with the back of his hand, frowning.
"you're burning up." he kept his voice down, but his tone was giving away the fact that your state concerned him greatly. you waved a dismissive hand, closing your eyes again. he poked you to make you look at him.
"have you went to madam pomfrey?" he questioned. you shook your head. if looks could kill, his probably would have.
"i'll go later." you reassured him poorly, just to get him to stop. the last thing you needed was getting all flustered and emotional because he was showing more interest in taking care of you than anybody else in your circle of friends.
"your later usually means never," he was right. you hated that. you grunted, hiding your reddening face. that was both from the fever and from him, "hey." he threw his arm around you when he didn't get a resonse. you leaned into his touch faster than you thought you would, just searching for any sort of warmth there was.
other students were giggling, but he couldn't care less, "y/n."
you lifted your head again, and then allowed it to fall against his shoulder. mcgonagall stepped through the classroom door shortly after that, her mouth dropping a little when she saw the position you were in. she was gonna scold you for displaying your affection so publicly, but lorenzo quickly explained the situation, and before you were able to protest, she shooed the both of you outside.
he immediately intertwined your fingers, walking at a slower pace than usual, not wanting to tire you more. as annoyed as that made you, you didn't pull your hand away, and instead kept your body close to his. he was muttering something, scolding you for being so dismissive and not getting this fixed right away. you were too exhausted to argue, but he was right anyway.
you inhaled sharply as your headache increased in intensity, latching onto his arm and stopping in your tracks. you shut you eyes, thinking it would help and ease it a bit. you felt him move to stand in front of you. his forehead fell against yours and his hands cupped your cheeks gently. you held onto him, taking a few deep breaths through your nose. his thumbs grazed over your skin ever so slightly, as if that his was his way of trying to soothe you.
eventually, your eyes fluttered open, but neither of you let the other go. lorenzo broke the silence between you, "you're so bloody stubborn."
"you're one to talk." you chuckled dryly, hugging him a bit tighter. he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, waiting for you to give him a sign that you were ready to walk again. when you nodded, he took your hand again, leading you to the hospital wing.
madam pomfrey had you going back to normal with a simple flick of her wand after a tiny scolding, and then she pinched lorenzo's cheek and called him a "good boy" for being so caring. the unexpected praise had his eyes going wide and he was blushing madly – you were never gonna let him forget that one.
she instructed you to come back if the cold returned, but she was addressing lorenzo more than she was you. a smart move on her part, the older woman knew you and your headstrong ways well enough. she ushered you out only after she made sure were in perfect shape to head back to class, though you couldn't do it without rubbing her comment into lorenzo face until he turned completely red again. he had to tickle you to get you to stop and you caused a bit of a commotion in the silent corridors, but that didn't matter. you returned to the transfiguration classroom with your pinkies intertwined, all eyes on you. you two really needed to talk.
and what are the odds of him being caring enough to check up on you later that day. he knew he wouldn't find you in your dorm, or the common room, or the library, or the astronomy tower. instead, he headed to the only other place on his mind, where the two of you often hung out on nights when neither of you could sleep.
you were sat on one of the stone walls in the courtyard, a cigarette in your hand, kind of forgotten. you hadn't noticed that it was burning out, or the occasional ash landing on your clothes. your thoughts were going places, recalling the many events that occured during the past few months, and what on earth you were going to do about your feelings. you could hide them from your friends for some time, but not from lorenzo. you blew out a frustrated breath, pinching the bridge of your nose. being straightforward with that idiot was always easy. you never had trouble with telling him exactly what you meant. 
the fact that you were anxious about it now was the most maddening thing in the world.
"what a depressing sight." you flinched, whipping your head in lorenzo's direction almost instantly. you couldn't tell if that was luck or misfortune. you snorted, rolling your eyes and offering him the remainder of your cigarette. he gladly took it, joining you in silence.
"why are you here?" you questioned.
"came to check up on you." he replied.
"i can take care of myself just fine." you patted his back. he seemed unphased. of course he was, he knew he'd win that argument.
you glimpsed up at the sky shortly. it was snowing just a little bit. you turned to lorenzo, a pleading expression on your face, "walk with me?"
he nodded, tossing the cigarette butt into the snow. you left the school grounds once again knowing that you wouldn't make it back before curfew, but that wasn't something the either of you dwelled on very much. there were more important things to get worried about.
it was obvious that you kept dodging the subject, settling for talking about things so insignificant that you would probably tell somebody to shut up if they brought them up in conversation on a normal day. being ballsy wasn't your thing anymore, as it seemed.
as cowardly as you felt, the sore winner in you wasn't letting you back down. a long internal debate and a silent minute of self-deprecation was what it took to make you finally speak your mind... to an extent, "have you ever felt incredibly guilty about being wrong about someone?"
lorenzo stared at you as if you were insane. it was a little too early on in the conversation for him to start connecting the dots. his street-smarts were sometimes lacking.
"you sure your cold didn't come back?" he pressed his hand against your forehead. you let out a startled laugh, observing his questioning face.
"what?" you spluttered, shoving your hands further into your pockets. the skeptical look in his eyes was making you nervous.
"you're admitting that you were wrong about something?" he sounded unconvinced, but there was a hint of jest in his voice.
you bit your tongue, clearing your throat awkwardly, "yes." you breathed out. he nodded, a way to tell you to go on. he was definitely interested. you were beginning to suspect that he already knew what you were gonna say.
"i mean," you grunted, cursing quietly, "you know when you spend years convinced that somebody is an awful person and claiming you hate their guts but then end up realising that they aren't nearly as terrible as you thought when you get to know them properly?" you explained frustratedly, resisting the temptation to kick the snow piling at your feet.
his mouth fell open in surprise for a moment, but he quickly shut it, running a hand through his hair, "uh, yeah, actually." he uttered nervously, scanning your face for any sign of humour. but you weren't playing around, and certainly not lying. he had been around you enough to be able to tell when you were being truthful.
you gave him a brief nod, looking everywhere but at him. you barely noticed that your hands were shaking. you contined walking on, not saying a single thing. if he were to tell you that he could hear your heart beating, you wouldn't even have the time to act surprised.
"i have to tell you something." he stopped in his tracks, grabbing your elbow in order to make your steps halt. you faced him, looking down at your feet, waiting for him to drop the bomb. he chewed on his lip anxiously, running a hand through his hair.
"i, um," he was struggling, not exactly knowing how to begin. how to formulate that sentence, even. he wished he could just show you. he reached to take your hand, and you let him, standing there motionless.
it was his turn to panic, "i- fuck." he met your gaze. you knew that look. you knew that bloody look he gave you when you were both thinking the same thing. two years prior it would have been something along the lines of i want to kill you. but it had turned into something that was a lot closer to i want to kiss you. you wanted to fucking cry. 
you nodded, breathing out and blinking your tears away. he almost sighed in relief, cupping your cheeks, and that's when your lips pressed against the last pair of lips you thought you'd ever be kissing.
you reached up to touch his face – that pretty face you once hated the sight of, but then couldn't get enough of. you pulled back only for a moment, only to connect again, neither letting the other go. your kisses were unhurried, soft, and loving, despite months upon months of pining, despite the years of pent up hate that was, at the end of day, sort of bound to blossom into love.
at the end of your seventh year, when you were leaving hogwarts hand in hand, mcgonagall stopped you on the way out. it was only then that she told you what had actually happened that gloomy day october, the one that practically sealed your fates for eternity. the overflow of different emotions was too strong for you to have time to act shocked, and you pulled the woman into a big hug, thanking her with teary eyes. for putting up with you for so many years, and for managing to do the unimaginable.
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introverting-rn · 4 months
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would like to think that edgeworth’s cravat/jabot/frilly white thing has the perry the platypus effect. like he can go to steel samurai conventions without anyone going “hey isn’t that the guy who tried to prosecute will powers?” just cause of course it isn’t that guy! that guy was an entirely seperate human being who doesn’t have a neck! THIS is a different one
and then at some point he’s probably accused of another murder or some shit and edgeworth is resigned to hanging - not because he did it or because the defence job was too hard, but because he knows full well that his only alibi is buying merch at a steel samurai convention and there is no world in which he’d confess that to the court. however, phoenix gets his grimy little hands on the security tape footage and, having SEEN edgeworth’s neck for reasons i think we all know, he presents it triumphantly to save edgeworth’s life…
and then the judge penalises him and tells him to stop presenting irrelevant evidence and he goes ???? and he zooms in on edgeworth in the footage and the whole court is still going nah lol stop being an idiot
so phoenix wright, ace attorney and dropout art student, prints out a screenshot (the entire court accompanies him to the printer to make sure he’s not tampering with evidence. they all stand crammed into a room and staring at this ancient printer as it slowly chugs along. the judge sits on top of the printer so he can be taller than them) and draws three white lines on the edgeworth image. this is intended to be the start of the drawing but suddenly the entire court gasps and shrieks and falls off their chairs / printers in shock because THAT’S THE DEFENDANT RIGHT THERE HOLY SHIT
and edgeworth is just fuming over on his bench and turning beet red and hoping to be framed of another murder so he can die right about now
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yandere-kokeshi · 2 months
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How would TF141+Konig,Nikolai react if their reader drunk and told them about how reader family used to sold reader at brotherel.
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Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about prostitution, mention of trauma, and foreshadowing on murdering. 
A/N: Definitely took my time writing this, so I hope you enjoy it!
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Captain “Price” John:
Whiplashes at you, nearly breaking his neck as he places his cold-glass down on the table. 
“Sorry, what?” 
He’s pissed. He cannot fathom why anyone could possibly do something so awful to his sweet darling, but he’s heartbroken, too. His heart shatters when you explain it, going into detail of what happened. And soon, John’s hands find themselves on yours within a heartbeat, thumbs grazing over your knuckles, and squeezes them occasionally. 
If you blow it off, saying it’s no biggie, John gets angrier. It’s not fine, and his tone is firm, and large hands that’s on top of yours aren’t letting go. And soon, he softens — bringing you into his lap, kissing the crown of your head. Hands running up and down your back, whispering to you of how special you are. 
And soon enough, later that night when you’re sleeping, his mind is wide-awake and angered. Wondering if your family is worthwhile to get a visit, teach ‘em a lesson or two.
From now on, John is so gentle with you; checking in with you first and won’t push you for anything. He even suggests therapy, or perhaps couple-therapy, to help you in some way. He wants you to know he’s here for you, as that’s all you have. 
Your parents are nowhere to be seen. The news has reported them missing, and it’s weird that John had come home after an hour when their bodies had been found, right? 
Simon “Ghost” Riley:
Whiplashes so hard, his neck popped as he looked at you. The cheap beer that you and him were drinking is set down, the loud clanking making the silence even louder, and his brown-doe eyes are staring at you. 
“You bein’ serious?”
Simon is fuming, absolutely seething with rage at how they used and hurt you. And he’s extremely tempted to find all of them and break every single bone in their miserable body. How on the earth could they hurt and betray you, you, the literal light in his life like that? 
“Love, you can’t jus’ drop a bomb like that and expect me to be all natural with it,” His tone seethed. He tries to soften it, he really does, but his rage with what you’ve just told him is starting to seep through the built-in cracks. And it’s clearly showing his not-so pretty side. 
But as soon as he sees your face, his heart re-breaks all over again. And within seconds, he pulls you into his arms, whispering sweet words of love and promises of safety; kissing every part he can reach until you tell him to stop.
If you haven’t already cut ties with your family, Simon immediately does it for you — anger shown and his tone sharp. He removes them from any way possible of how they could connect to you, even going as far to put a restraining order against them. But, if they decide to be snide, and try to take you back? Simon is more than happy to use his physical strength to scare them away. 
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:
He laughs uncomfortably, before he really thinks and chews on the words a little more. His eyebrows crease against each other, fingers tightening around the beer bottle, as he looks at you very concerned. 
“Wait– what was that?” 
Kyle watches you go on, rambling about it as if it’s not a big deal, and he’s in pure shock. He’s not sure if you’re putting a brave face on, or if it’s the alcohol, but either way, it’s making him mad. His hands are shaking, his heart thundering in his chest, mind going a mile a minute, trying to understand the concept, but he can’t seem to get past the anger part. 
“Baby… when did this happen?” he generally questions, uncomfortably shifting in his seat as he looks for something in you. He’s worrying. Wonder what it’s done to you, someone he loves so deeply, and he can’t fathom the idea that something so horrific happened to you. 
Within seconds, he apologizes. Brown eyes looking at yours, barely forming tears. He’s pulling you into a tight hug, holding you deeply, and finding a way to blame himself. If he’d known you sooner, maybe it wouldn’t have happened. He could’ve protected you. 
But, that doesn’t help the situation — so he focuses on you, helping you through things and ensuring you’ll be safe. Because you’ll always be with him. 
Kyle tries to help you in every shape and form, making sure your boundaries are set and that he follows them knee-deep. And that, of course, your family doesn’t come near you. If they try to push through the cracks, he’s immediately acting viciously. And it’s not pretty.
 —
Johnny “Soap” MacTavish:
He chokes on his drink, coughing up a storm. Hitting him like a ton of bricks, and somehow, you look at him like he’s the one who said some type of sex joke at the wrong time. 
“I– beg your pardon?” 
He’s right in the same area with Ghost, furious in many aspects. His face shows it. His body language, and thick voice. When you’re describing the multiple incidents, it just makes him want to track down your family and rip them in two. 
Comfort is immediately given, Johnny’s arms find yours within seconds, and you’re brought into a cuddle session — one where he kisses every part, and promises that you’ll never have to face them again. He looks at you, blue eyes just admiring you before kissing your cheek, “Nobody will hurt ya’ again, swear on my and ma’s life, sweets.”
And he goes with it. Days pass, and he’s still thinking about it. He sees you so strongly, and how you’re able to go about your day and act as if it’s normal; his heart beats faster at your sewn thoughts of even crying. 
Without saying, Johnny despises your family. A bitter emotion that can be easily shown if you bring them up into a conversation. His hands crunch in remembrance of their scared face, and you won’t be seeing them anymore. You can’t. 
König:
He just looks at you, seemingly going deeper into your soul. Which, of course, creeps you out. König watches you explain, with a flushed look, and he’s tasting iron in his mouth from how hard he’s biting his cheek. 
“Hase, what’d you say?” 
He just keeps staring at you. And he doesn’t want you to think he’s angry at you, because he’s not — never in a million years, but it’s devastating to him. How could someone, a family that you’re supposed to trust, do that to you? 
“König?” your voice brings him out of his deep thoughts, bloody thoughts, and he just looks at you before bringing you into his chest; a man, so large and beefy, has a voice so little and fragile, that you could barely hear it. He sighs, “Why did you hide it? I’d much rather you talk to me, okay?” 
He’s obviously affected, but not as much as you are. He’s in a state of disbelief, and the fact you just blurted it out, whilst in a vulnerable state, makes him sick.
He’s unbelievably more clingy the next few days, ensuring you know your own worth and how strong you are. Everywhere you go, he’s touching you — smoothing the wrinkles in your clothes as his hands crawl underneath the fabric. Kissing you and nearly suffocating you with his weight. 
As for your family, he ignores and diverts the questions of them into a different conversation. He doesn’t want to scare you, but with the things he’s done, König is certain you’d be smart to connect the dots. 
Nikolai: 
Not a single laugh, or fun look comes from Nikolai. He’s immediately concerned, the shot glass being put down as he really looks at you, biting his lip. 
“Think that’s enough alcohol, Lyubimyy. Why don’t we head to bed, hm?”
He doesn’t necessarily react — but more so tries to make you sidetrack so you two can focus on something else. Until, the next morning, is where he re-brings it up and asks. He’s concerned, dark eyes showing sadness that’s covered by anger. But your feelings matter. They will always come first. And when he sees your reaction, Nikolai quickly understands, “We can talk whenever you’re ready, mkay lovey?” 
Nikolai comforts you with the best of his abilities, ensuring that you’re not a burden. You’re the complete opposite, and you’re so strong. His hugs become deeper, kisses become longer and more intimate. 
And the gifts he brings home, even to the grocery store, are enormous. His sly smile as he carries them in definitely takes your head off some things, no? 
Your parents are immediately cut out of your life. Nikolai has secrets of his own, and once in a while, he has to take out the dirty trash, right? Before he leaves for the day, a mission needed for Laswell, he promises to be back before 5 PM; and he does, arriving all giddy and flirty. But his hands seem a bit too warm, a bit odd. 
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targaeryxn · 1 year
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wet dreams (pt. 2)
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♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
pairing: eddie munson x female mean!cheerleader!reader
summary: after being fingered in class by eddie, you go to his trailer to tell him off
warnings: smut, dry humping, switch!eddie, switch!reader, mean!reader, oral (f receiving), protected p in v, angry sex at the beginning, biting
part one
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
You stood in front of his trailer door, fuming and blushing as your fists banged against it.
“Open up, freak!”
You heard rustling and the sound of something heavy falling, followed by a groan, from the other side of the door before it opened to revel the object of your anger. He wasn’t wearing that old Hellfire Club you were used to see him wear, but rather some metal band from the looks of it. His hair was messy as always, but his cheeks were pink, and he was slightly breathless. What was he doing before you arrived?
“The queen of Hawkins High appears in my doorstep. Are you lost?” Eddie teased, leaning to the side of the door.
You didn’t know if you were angry or still horny, or both. You just knew you were confused, and wanted some explanations now.
“Who do you think you are to… do that to me?”
"Do what?"
"Touch me!"
His eyebrows rose as he let out a small laugh. "Okay, since the lady insists."
"No, you idiot!" You blushed furiously, remembering how his touch felt. It wouldn't be such a bad idea, actually...
He looked at you with a boyish look on his face. "You know what, you never told me what we did in your dream."
"And I'll never tell you." You furrowed your eyebrows. "I just came to tell you to never do that again."
He took a few steps closer to you, to the point you had to crane your neck up to meet his eyes. The scent of cigarettes invaded your nostrils, normally you’d bitch about how bad that smell was and that smoking kills, but now it wasn’t so unpleasant coming from him. His hand slowly rose, and you followed the movement with your eyes in slow motion, almost scared as to what he would do now with his perfect fingers, but he just started twirling a lock of your hair around his index finger.
“Why don’t you tell me what you’re really here for, huh? And don’t lie.”
Your breath hitched, but you knew you had to keep your composure. You didn’t come all the way to this shit hole to be at his mercy again.
"I told you already. To tell you that won't happen again." Your voice sounded like you were way more composed than you actually were. You swear you felt your legs quiver at some point.
"You know, I think you're lying. I think you're here because you liked me touching you way too much, and you want more." He gripped your hair, bringing your face impossibly closer to his.
“Tell me to stop.” His lips brushed against yours as he spoke, causing your brain to shut down and you leaned forward, already feeling drunk on him. But your movement was halted when you felt a large hand grip your neck, not hard enough to choke you, but hard enough to wake you up from your daze. “Hey. Tell me to stop.”
“What were you doing before I came here?”
He paused. “What?”
You trailed your hand from his stomach to the waistband of his sweatpants. "Why are you so hard? You think I didn't notice?"
He grunted, eyes closing for a second. "Jesus. You should have a hot cheerleader cum on your fingers, sweetheart. Then you'll understand."
"Were you touching yourself thinking about me?" You palmed his already rock hard bulge, trying to get a little bit of control of the situation. You couldn't deny anymore you wanted him, but if you're giving in to your desires, you'd at least be in control. "You're such a freak."
"Fuck you."
You pushed him inside and slammed his front door behind you. His trailer was messy, but you didn't analyze it too much because as soon as you saw a couch there, you shoved Eddie in its direction. You quickly sat on his lap, your panties the only thing separating your cunt from the rough fabric of this sweatpants. His hands gripped your waist as you rubbed yourself against him.
“Don’t forget who you’re talking to.”
His laugh made you shiver. “I should respect the queen, right?”
“Yes, you should.” You lowered your voice to a whisper, and you leaned forward so your lips were close to his ear. “If you want to cum.”
You bit the skin under his ear, receiving a hiss and a jolt from his hips from under you. A moan almost escaped you at the sudden pressure.
“Of course you’re a biter.”
“Something tells me you like it.”
You leaned back to see his flushed face, and the cheeky grin you started to find irresistible. “No offense, my queen, but are you gonna do something or just talk?”
A scoff left your lips as you started moving against him, almost aggressively. You knew it was a lot for the both of you, how rough you were moving your hips against him, but the anger you felt towards him was practically controlling you now, along with your desire. He had his eyes on you the entire time, watching the way you were just taking what you wanted from him.
Of course, he couldn’t handle being good for a few seconds, and he increased the pace by moving your hips with his strong hands. You rested you chin on his shoulder, a breathless moan escaping you. Your panties were still wet from the orgasm he gave you earlier, by now they were probably soaked.
He gripped your hair again, forcing you to look at him as he smashed his lips against yours. Your movement halted for a second, surprised by the sudden kiss. You knew it was stupid to be shocked by him kissing you while he’d already made you cum once, and was on his way to do it twice, but it seemed like a weirdly intimate gesture. You didn’t mind, though, it only made you more worked up. Your tongues fought each other for dominance while you tried to get back to your previous task of grinding against him. You lost, and his tongue invaded your mouth. The wet smacking of your lips sounded so obscene that the first signs of your orgasm began to appear.
He must’ve noticed the shift in you, the way your movements started to become sloppy, and he quickly stopped you.
“I already let you have your fun. Now it’s my turn.” He stood up, still holding you against him so you wouldn’t fall. A small yelp of surprise left your lips as he walked to what you believe is his bedroom, and threw you on the mattress. “I don’t know what made you think you had control. It was cute, really.”
His fingers were quick to tear your uniform off you, leaving you only with your underwear. He didn’t even bother taking your bra off, only pushing the cups out of the way as his eyes admired you.
“I thought I was your queen a moment ago.” A shaky breath left you as his lips attacked your chest, avoiding your nipples but kissing everywhere around.
“And I was a freak a moment ago, but would you let a freak do this to you?” His tongue brushed your nipple, before capturing it between his lips and sucking. You couldn’t stop the moans from leaving your mouth, your hand buried itself in his hair as you arched your back, wanting more of him to touch you.
His finger teased your nipple as he sucked on the other, switching nipples when he thought it was enough.
"What were we doing in your dream?" His thigh pressed against your pussy.
“I’m… not telling you.”
"You're not gonna cum until you tell me."
You groaned, trying to switch positions so you were on top but he wouldn’t let you. His hands held yours above your head and he gave a sweet kiss to your pouting lips.
“I’m waiting.” He teased, enjoying the way no matter how much you tried, you’d only have control if he let you.
“Ugh- You were…” Your cheeks were red as you avoided looking at him. “You were eating me out. That’s it.”
“Hmm. That’s what got you so worked up?” He hummed. “Well, who am I do deny a pretty girl her dreams?”
The smirk on his face was almost scary as he pushed your panties down your ankles, his eyes always fixed on the spot between your legs. The look he gave you was the same look a lion would give it’s prey before devouring it. You had no doubt that's exactly what Eddie wanted to do to you.
“Fuck, look at that. She’s beautiful.”
“Did you just refer to my pussy-“
“Shh.” He raised his finger up, shushing you. You’d feel offended, but he was looking at your pussy like it was something that belonged in a museum. "You're dripping, sweetheart. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
You jerked as you saw him spit on your pussy before smearing his saliva all around with his thumb.
"Eddie!'' You covered your face, attempting to close your legs but he just laughed as he held them open. "You're disgusting!"
He didn't even bother answering you, too focused on playing with your pussy with his thumb. You were starting to feel so hot you practically ripped the bra off of you, which finally made his eyes avert from your pussy to your tits. His free hand cupped your breast and you moaned, overwhelmed by both sensitive areas being stimulated at the same time. When you opened your eyes, which you didn't even realized you had closed, he was staring at you. It almost worried you the fact you don't even remember the last time he blinked.
You didn't break eye contact, you just looked at him while enjoying his hands on you. A grunt left his mouth before he started kissing your lips again. His fingers pinched your clit and a small scream left you.
"Eddie... Please."
"Fuck, you're gonna kill me." He palmed himself through his pants, and just now you realized you were completely naked while he was fully clothed.
"Why are you still wearing this?" You complained, trying to pull his shirt off him. He helped you, tossing it aside and quickly getting his hands on you again. He almost missed the way your eyes darkened while examining his tattoos.
"You like these?"
"Yeah, it makes you look hot."
Eddie's eyebrows shot up, clearly not expecting the compliment. "Wow, the queen of Hawkins High calls me hot. Never thought I'd see the day. What would your loyal subjects say?"
"Stop calling me that." You chuckled, rolling your eyes. Who would have thought? Maybe you were warming up to him after all.
"Isn't that what you are?"
"Well, Munson, are you gonna do something or just talk?" You teased, repeating his words from earlier.
"Fine, but remember you asked for it."
You'd tease him again and ask what he meant, but he suddenly buried his face between your thighs and licked all the wetness coming from you. His tongue was relentless, and so much better than your dream. He moaned in sync with you, loving to see you crack under him. His eyes closed for a second, savoring your taste, but he opened them just as fast. He couldn't miss the sight of you like this.
You couldn't even think. You'd never felt this good before during oral, you had always felt as if men went down on you just so you were wet enough so they could slide in, but Eddie did it as if it was for his own pleasure. He was almost selfish about it, enjoying it in a way you never thought a guy would. You felt two of his fingers entering you and curling to that sensitive spot.
"Yes, Eddie- Fuck!" You moaned. "I'm getting close."
"You gonna cum, baby? Do it, cum for me. Let go."
There's no way you'd ever admit it, but his use of 'baby' made your orgasm come crashing, quicker than you expected. You screamed, squirming away from his mouth by instinct but he wouldn't let you. He kept his mouth on you until every trace of your orgasm was gone and you had to push him away before it was too sensitive.
You were breathless and had your eyes closed, while he caressed your thigh with his thumb and waited for you to recover. "You okay?"
"Don't look so smug."
He let out a soft laugh. "You're not even looking at me."
"Yeah, but I can imagine."
To your surprise, he stayed quiet and just kept comforting you. The hand brushing against your thigh was supposed to be an innocent gesture, but after he gave you one of the best orgasms of your life, his hand only made your body burn. You slowly opened your eyes, expecting to see a smirk, but seeing instead a loving look on him. "What?"
"Nothing," He smiled. Not smirked, but smiled. "Can I keep going?"
You were kind of taken aback by the sudden kindness, but slowly nodded your head. "Yes, please."
Suddenly, the soft look on his face was replaced by a hungry one. "Please? I like hearing that."
His hands left you as he searched through a drawer from his nightstand. While he was looking for what you assumed was a condom, you admired him. Your eyes examined him up and down, from his messy hair to his flushed cheeks, from his chest to his big bulge. You licked your lips while staring at it, maybe if you asked nicely he'd let you play with it.
"Hey, Eddie?"
"Hm?" He sounded frustrated.
"Can I suck you off?"
His actions ceased, and he paused while looking at you, clearly shocked while you tried to give your best puppy eyes. A sound left his lips, something between a moan and a grunt.
"Fuck. As much as I want that, baby, I really need to be inside you."
There's that 'baby' again. He found the condom and stripped himself of his sweatpants so quick you almost didn't notice the little box full of condoms beside you.
"You get a lot of company, Munson?"
"Why? Are you jealous?" His teasing tone made your blood boil. He didn't even look at you, he was focused on freeing his cock and putting the condom on. You were practically drooling at the sight of his thick member, and you were sure a drop of your wetness just ran down your legs.
You took advantage of his distraction and switched positions quickly, shoving him down and getting on top of him. He was surprised for a second until he huffed with a small smile. "Fine. Have your fun for now."
You positioned yourself so his cock was between your lips as you started grinding your hips against him until you practically got him soaked. "Beg."
"Okay, now you're pushing it too far."
"Beg me to let you fuck me."
Eddie's eyes rolled back and he sighed. "Fine, okay. Please, let me fuck you. Please."
His hands gripped your waist, and every second you kept teasing him, his hold on you would get tighter and tighter.
You were enjoying being on top way too much, but you knew better not to tease him so much. He'd definitely try to take control again and you didn't know if you were able to stop him. Honestly, you didn't even know if you would've wanted him to stop. He looked good on top too. You lined the tip of his cock with your entrance, and slowly slid down.
Eddie moaned as loud as you did, throwing his head back against the bed and closing his eyes. "Jesus H. Christ."
You moved up and down while supporting yourself with your hands on his chest, gazing at his every reaction. He looked so submissive that way, completely at your mercy. Your movement was automatic as you leaned in and bit his neck.
One of his hands buried itself in your hair, keeping you close to his neck as you sped up. He started thrusting into you as well, and you were glad he was holding you, because you knew if you were still sitting up, you would've lost balance and fell right on top of him. You released your bite from his neck and left a trail of sloppy kisses until you reached his mouth. You swallowed his moans with a heated kiss.
Once Eddie felt you starting to get tired, he flipped you both so he'd be on top. "My turn now."
He set his own pace now, a lot rougher than when you were on top, but so much better. He was hitting a spot so deep inside you as his hand started to tease your clit relentlessly. You didn't even know sex could feel this good, but the feeling of him sliding in and out of you while he circled your clit with his fingers was enough to make you lose your mind.
"God, Eddie, you feel so good."
"Give it to me, baby. I wanna feel you cum on my cock." His pace quickened. "Can you do that for me?"
You quickly nodded, too dumb to answer with words.
"Good girl." He growled. "Can't even speak, huh? Does it feel that good, baby? Fuck, you're gonna make me cum too."
Just before you came, you grabbed his face and kissed him again. He rod off both of your orgasms, thrusting and playing with your clit while moaning against your mouth. His movements stopped the minute it got too much, and he just laid on top of you, with his head on your shoulder and his cock still inside of you while you both tried to catch your breaths.
"You know, if you weren't such a bitch to me all this time, we would've been doing this for much longer."
You laughed for a minute, before you felt the guilt starting to show itself. "About that... I..." He raised his head to look at you, interested in your next words. "Are you really gonna make me say it?"
"I have no clue what you're talking about."
Liar. The cheeky smile on his face told you all you needed to know. He wanted to hear you say it, and you felt you should say it as well.
"I'm sorry, okay? It's unfair the way people treated you, and I've known it all along. It's just- If you don't agree with them, they can ruin your life. And I'm pretty pleased with mine. But either way, it was unfair to you and it won't happen again." You said it so fast he'd almost missed it.
Eddie hummed, deep in thought.
"Eddie? Say something."
"So are you gonna take me on a date or what?"
5K notes · View notes
luveline · 9 months
Text
𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐟𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚
you have to find new ways to communicate when a cold leaves you voiceless. miguel is less than happy —featuring grumpy miguel and his cheerful spider-girl. requested here. fem!reader, 2.3k.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Miguel's hackles hike as you appear. You have an obsession with toying with him and he's in the middle of something more important than your whims and wants.
"Don't start," he warns, barely looking at you. 
You point at yourself as if to say, Who, me? Grinning, you pull your arms behind your torso tightly, your shoulders harsh slopes where they'd usually be lax with calm. Your spider suit strains against the movement, shining with a subtle shimmer as you twirl your way into his side. You blink up at him, mock-innocent. 
"What did I just say?" he asks. 
He's expecting a charming rebuttal he doesn't get. You're awfully charismatic; Miguel often thinks you've manufactured a devilish siren call that yanks him in like a fish on a line no matter how hard he tries to split his lip and flee.
You're pretty, sure, but it isn't your looks that endear you to him. You have this way of speaking that's effortlessly carefree, despite the frankly ridiculous depth of the well that is your fondness for the world. It shouldn't make sense, and it does: you're happy because you love the world. When you speak to him, annoy him, praise him and degrade him in the same breath, Miguel thinks you might love him, too. 
You're silent. Miguel takes it as a blessing and finishes analysing the footage playing in front of him. He finishes as quickly as he can, and he's not a dick, he says, "Thank you." Then, with an unimpressed eyebrow raise, "Where have you been?" 
You come to see him so often he kind of forgot you didn't have to. He's taken you for granted, he knows, and after three days of not seeing you he should be happier. He should've asked you about it as soon as you appeared. 
You shrug and point at his screen. He can practically see the question mark in your eyes. 
"That's nothing. What, you're not speaking to me now?" he asks. 
Paper creaks in your hand as you pull a sketchbook from your pocket. Small, lilac, you flip to the first page and show him the scrawled message there with a rueful smile. 
Miguel's expecting a cartoon version of himself, but instead you've written three words. 
I have laryngitis. 
Miguel's gaze flickers between you and your book, assessing the claim with scepticism. "Why would you have that? You're practically impervious to disease." 
You flip to the next page. 
Superbug from Earth-87222 defeated my enhanced healing.
One of your Peter Parker friends lives there. He isn't jealous (because he knows that particular Peter doesn't like girls). "And you can't talk?" he asks. 
The next page. I can't talk.
You tuck the book to your chest. Lips parted, you attempt to speak, but all that comes out is hot air and a cruel croaking scratch that makes his chest ache. 
"Don't hurt yourself," he says, softer than he'd been speaking beforehand. He can't decide whether to glare at you or pull you in for a hug. If he hugs you, you might attach yourself to him like that thing from Alien. He glares. "You could've told me." 
You gesture to your throat. I can't speak. 
"That you were sick, you know how to type. You bother me every day for weeks and then one day you stop showing up, and you don't answer your watch, what am I supposed to think?" 
You stare up at him dreamily. He swears you get off on being scolded half the time. 
Miguel takes your wrist into his hand and turns your wristband forward to showcase the screen. "You see this? You see when my prompt comes up? You could take ten seconds and hit me back." 
Again, you open your small sketchbook, turning to a fourth page. You've predicted him well.
I didn't want to worry you. Don't be mad, handsome, you'll get more wrinkles. 
"Tu sabes todo," he fumes. You know everything. "If you're so smart, you can help me recalibrate the pocket dimension storage." 
You flip a page. It's finally a drawing rather than a knowing line, your familiar artistry obvious in your weighted linework and rushed shading. It's Miguel, his expression one he isn't sure you would've actually seen to reference as well as you have, lovingly concerned with a speech bubble coming from beside his softly rendered hair. Get well soon, cariño. 
He scoffs. "You seem fine to me." 
In truth, you don't seem fine. Now he knows, he can see evidence of your days away. Your lips are chapped under the balm you've applied, your hair dishevelled (though it's often unruly, in line with your personality). You wince when you breathe too hard. Miguel lowers the platform and sets you up next to him on a workbench in the back of the laboratory beside him for purely professional purposes. He has to make sure you're doing the calibration correctly, that's all. 
He can't quite explain away the tea he gets for you from the cafeteria, nor the research he does on the way back to you, Lyla at his shoulder saying, "You're such a softie." 
You find you don't need the sketchbook to communicate. Miguel places your tea down and your smile alone is thanks enough. It's pure reverential delight. He doesn't really deserve it, so he pretends he doesn't see. 
When you need help with a recalibration, you take his wrist gently. You don't even need to point at the screen, the subtle uptilt of your brows enough clue.
"Here, you're almost there," he murmurs under his breath, distracted by the complicated code you've been editing in the corner of the screen. "Oh, is this what you do when I'm not looking?" 
You tug his elbow. 
"No? You're not messing around?" he asks, rolling his eyes. "You think I'm stupid." 
Your fingers tighten. Miguel clicks a couple of things to finish the calibration. He looks at you from over his shoulder. Your face is near. It radiates heat. He bites the tip of his gloved finger and yanks it off clean to press the back of his naked hand to your forehead. 
"You're warm," he says, patting carefully downward. Your skin is as hot as he'd worried. 
Miguel drops his hand without rush, the side of his pinky tracing down your cheek. "Maybe you shouldn't be here." 
You shake your head vehemently. There's something in it he doesn't understand, an uncharacteristic shyness. He supposes he'd feel the same if he were sick like this, but you have no reason to be ashamed of a bad cold.
"Enough calibration, then. Take it easy." 
You do not take it easy. Your first port of call is to request to share his screen. He grants you permission and rescinds it soon after, irked when the majority of his monitor becomes wallpapered by digital post it note drawings of him looking cranky and of you in a crown, a ship's captain's hat, standing on the moon. He sets them each back to the perimeter of his window and tries to work. Trust you to find ways to bother him without teasing aloud. 
He thinks that… but then, his hands falter over the keyboard. You aren't a bother. You irritate him but he kind of likes it, most of the time. He turns his head just enough to see your face, blue and white light kissing your skin. You glow. 
Miguel thinks about how he used to do this alone. Lyla on his shoulder when she felt like it but usually tinkering in the quiet, trying to stop the end of the world, the pressure akin to how Atlas himself must have felt, knees locked and arms braced above his head to stop the Earth falling into the black abyss. Miguel doesn't always know what he's being punished for (or, he didn't). He doesn't know why this ended up on his plate, but the panic of doing it alone ebbs every day. With you by his side, unshakeable if not unfailing, it feels less like a death sentence and more like a problem that needs solving. He can't save everyone, but he can try. He can't stomach the agony of his life if he thinks about the past; you make it easy to stay present. 
Who would he rather have here than you? Out of everyone living that he knows, you're the only person he could stand to sit with for this long. 
It's not the same without your voice. Your murmurings, your kind doting, your put upon and less-so confusion. He misses it more than he can say in that moment, worse when you feel his eyes and turn to face him with a soft smile. 
Everything okay? you ask without asking. 
You don't need to speak. He can see it on your face. 
Miguel gets up from his bench to tower over you. Without giving it too much thought, he bends down, wrapping his right arm behind your shoulders, the left loose over your front, and kisses your forehead with the barest of pressures. It's hardly a kiss at all, and it makes no noise. More like he's resting his lips there, his nose at your hairline, breathing in. His hand rubs an up and down of its own accord into your upper arm, the soft fat of it melding under his touch. 
Your head dips back invitingly. You're like butter in the sun at his touch, a slow melting. 
"If you tell anyone about this, I'll deny it," he says quietly. 
You snort. You give his arm a pat and reach over it to grab your sketchbook. Miguel straightens but doesn't remove his arms, watching as you flick to the right page. 
I can't talk, the page says. You beam at him.
"I see," Miguel says. "You think it's funny because you couldn't tell if you wanted to." 
Your answering hum comes with the feeling of your fingers latching onto his elbow. Exactly. 
Well, fuck it. If you can't tell anyone, Miguel might as well send it. He leans down to grab you up into his hold, a squeezing hug that says everything he wanted to tell you while you were gone, his worry for you and his annoyance at your lack of communication. You don't need audible words to tell him things, and Miguel doesn't need words either. Hopefully his arms around you and his nose digging too rough into your temple says how he feels plainly. 
"I figured you got sick of taking orders," he confesses. You got sick of me. "When you didn't come back." 
You refuse to act small —Miguel doesn't want you to—, standing despite the weight he'd been resting on you, turning in the circle of his arms to look up into his eyes. It's too much, Miguel doesn't want your face this close to his, not with the rawness of his feelings aching a trail up between each of his rib bones, one by one. He clenches his jaw. 
Your hand climbs to his ear. He stays very still. As the initiator he should be forgiving, but your fingers touch his ear and he contemplates sinking his teeth into your hand. You stroke hair away from his face with a dramatised expression that says it's in the way, pesky stuff, though the final fond tuck of it behind the shell of his ear is impossible to deny.
Your thumb rubs his earlobe. 
"Are you having fun?" he asks dryly.
Your nod is sincere. Enthusiastic, you start to ease your fingertips into the thick tresses of his hair. 
Miguel grabs your wrist in an iron grip. 
"Enough." 
He guesses more than knows what your pout means —that isn't fair. 
"Life isn't fair," he says, pressing your forearm to your chest, an action fraught with apology. It's ridiculous how much can be said without words. He'd like for you to get your voice back solely to end this confusing misery. Well, not solely… Miguel misses the sound of it, distinct as your lopsided smiles and unconventional hand movements. "You can file a complaint just as soon as you get your voice back, how's that?" 
You roll your eyes and sit back down on your bench. Miguel takes a lap around the laboratory to calm down, returning to a new program blinking on computer his taskbar to be opened. 
He doesn't give you the satisfaction of looking your way as he opens it. 
"Miguel!" The program chirps, in a voice jarringly close to yours but not nearly as sophisticated as the majority of language intelligence he uses in his own coding. "I was waiting for you, handsome! Where have you been? Now you're back, I have a very special song to sing for you. Sing along if you know this one! Alright… Ninety nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety nine bottles of beer! You take one down, pass it around, ninety nine bottles of beer…"
Miguel realises he can't mute or close the program shortly thereafter. Vocaloid you counts down to sixty one bottles of beer by the time he resigns to turning off his computer altogether, a headache twinging angrily behind his eyes. 
Maybe he could use a break from your voice after all. 
You giggle breathlessly at him as he drops his face into his hands. 
"Drink your tea," he orders, words muffled by his palms.
He doesn't look up. There's the sound of a big sip. Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. He's kidding himself —the sooner you get your voice back, the better. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading!
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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months
Note
I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THE “GET OFF MY SCREEN” SERIES
I can’t stop thinking about the idea of Reader playing video games and Vox is just watching like it’s a twitch stream and judging their gaming skills and even backseat gaming 😭😭
It’s like my brain is working overtime thinking of this AU
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Oh Shut Up Vee!
Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader
A/N: Yeah- I'm pretty sure Vox would literally dunk on the non-gamer Readers out there, hell- he'd probably find our concept of horror games pretty tame compared to what he sees and deals with daily in hell. Though I'm pretty sure Vox himself would backseat game the fuck out of you- he's not that great at video games either. He just doesn't have the time to really get into them aside from the basics HAHAHAHA- I'll still be writing scenarios and just adding them into the masterlist if you guys think of any. As always, I hope you guys enjoy and happy reading!
"Wow, doll- you... kinda suck at this."
"Vox shut up and let me focus."
You cursed under your breath as you continued to mash buttons.
The loud repeated clicking from your incessant spamming kind of made Vox cringe.
He didn't even want to imagine what you'd do to your keyboard when you were fuming-
Your poor controller was just not having a good day-
So... how did you end up like this?
It was another long weekend for you with the back-to-back holidays around the corner.
So of course you kind of spent it doing whatever you could possibly think of.
Productive or not you didn't really care.
In this instance-
You chose to play some fighting games with a friend online.
It wasn't your preferred genre of game, but it was better than boredom.
So you plugged your computer into the TV to get a bigger view of the game-
Only for Vox to end up popping in at some random point in your session.
He could see your game like a stream from his end, moving it to a separate screen so he could still watch your reactions.
You on the other hand had to deal with a slightly obstructive minimized box on the screen at all times.
At least he tried to stay out of the way-
"Aaaaand you're dead again-"
"FUUUUUCK!!!!"
You wanted to chuck your controller into the ground at this point-
But those things were expensive so you just put it down on the coffee table and started violently punching the shit out of a nearby pillow.
"Seriously, you've just got to punch the dude and block- it's not that hard."
Vox had been watching you play for a little over thirty minutes by now.
And you've probably won like... thrice?
Out of twenty matches?
Not a great looking statistic in his opinion.
You glared up at his minimized face on the TV and huffed.
"If it's so easy why don't you face me head on then huh? Coward!"
"Fine, but don't cry if I end up kicking your ass!"
Vox ended up shooting back, already messing with your computer settings to make way for a local player 2.
Of course most games had that option anyway, it just wasn't immediately recognized by the game since you didn't plug another controller in.
Vox wasn't exactly being arrogant this time either.
He knew his way around video games, and given his profession and work-
That wasn't really surprising.
Though, he wasn't an avid gamer or anything like that.
Lord knows he's too busy to even try-
But he wasn't going to be dumbfounded simply because of complicated controls.
So here's the hilarious fine print our tech savvy TV man didn't realize.
You weren't actually a bad player when it came to 2D fighters.
It just so happened that your friend was quite well-versed in that kind of game.
In reality- you were losing because they were just that good.
And it easily showed when you fought against your overlord buddy.
"NOT SO EASY NOW IS IT ASSHOLE?!"
"FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! PUSSY!!!"
You laughed upon seeing Vox's minimized face on the TV just glitch and fizzle as he continued to swear up a storm.
Serves him right for underestimating you, but it was still hilarious seeing him just completely lose it after only five rounds.
Well, five rounds where your game character royally kicked his shins in but who's counting?
He continued to just lag and glitch while possibly exhausting every expletive known to the English dictionary.
You on the other hand-
You just calmly and smugly drank some water and watched the chaos.
Who was the raging pissbaby now huh?
It only made you laugh so much harder when his face disappeared off the TV and you realize he'd disconnected.
Bro really just left because he got extremely skill-issued.
You continued to play for a little while longer-
Without any spectators this time-
Before your phone buzzed with a message.
You were initially a little excited before realizing it was just a friend inviting you to go out.
That hope was pretty short-lived.
A part of you kinda wanted it was Vox, and that he would've forgiven you for sort of hurting his ego by now-
Honestly he was asking for it with the backseat gaming earlier so you weren't really sorry-
But it wasn't and you reckoned it probably won't be him for another few hours.
Taking up on your friend's offer though, you figured it wouldn't be so bad to just go shopping or something.
Maybe you could even bring back a gift for your pissy TV companion.
Vox spent nearly the entire day just trying to calm down by throwing himself into his work.
He was so confident he would be able to beat or even match you, only to lose fucking spectacularly.
He slightly wondered if the whole reason he was even this irritated by it was because he wanted to show off to you.
Ya know, make it seem like he had the skills to pay the bills and all that jazz?
It was just a video game but still-
The embarrassment and your laughing at him didn't help.
That and his continued losses reminded him of that one time Alastor bullied him so badly that the entire pentagram city lost power.
He was glad he didn't really get to that point this time, even if he was already on the cusp of it from anger.
His phone buzzed to life from where it was on the coffee table in front of him, snapping the overlord out of his thought train and back to reality.
Vox slightly glared at his phone, he wasn't over his losses quite yet and chose to ignore it.
"Aren't you gonna answer that?"
"I'll get to it later."
Velvette was just sitting on the couch next to him, raising an eyebrow at her colleague's more than peculiar behavior.
Especially when Vox looked at his own phone like it had personally scorned him.
First it was him brushing both her and Valentino off because of some living person who'd apparently caught his fancy.
Then it was him totally careening off the rails when said individual went and got themselves into a relationship.
Eugh- the amount of times she's had to drag his drunken ass into bed otherwise he'd fall asleep anywhere else when it happened-
Not that Valentino helped much, constantly singing a tune of "I told you so" only rubbed salt into the wound.
Only for Vox to eventually be okay again, or at least tolerable and stable.
The fact he kept swinging so far left and then so far right whenever this living person got involved was both hilarious and exhausting to watch.
Velvette tried to pry sometimes, now that Vox had nothing to hide-
Only for him to still be uptight with what he knew and where his stance was.
What a killjoy.
"What if it's your girlfriend?"
The tech overlord just sputtered and looked at the other Vee next to him with a confused and slightly embarrassed expression.
Meanwhile Vel simply had a deadpan at her currently glitching companion.
"I- zZzST- They're n-N-not my girlfriend!!!"
Vox cursed his systems for nearly overloading from just a simple tease.
Immediately glitching and buffering as he tried to calm himself back down.
It wasn't like him to lose his cool so quickly-
That slightly worried him.
"Oh yeah? Maybe stop gushing over anything on your phone and I'll believe ya."
"F-f-FuCk you Velv-vVetTe."
Vox just grabbed his phone and left, heading towards his monitor room with a grumble.
His colleague's words just replayed in his head as he traversed the halls.
Girlfriend...
As fucking if.
It didn't explain why he felt a sense of dejection though.
His phone buzzed again, this time he checked it.
"You didn't reply so I dunno if you saw my message but I wanted to say I just went out for a quick trip to the mall earlier. I'm back home and the computer's connected to the TV again if you wanna talk."
"Yeah, I'll be there in a bit."
Staring at his phone after he hit the send button-
Vox felt a little annoyed with himself for agreeing so quickly.
It was like he couldn't even stop himself from wanting to be near you.
He must've been really just fucked up over earlier.
By the time Vox had connected once again to your TV, you were on the couch messing with something in your hands.
"Ah- Vox! Look, about a while ago-"
"If you're going to apologize because you beat my ass at a game, don't bother. You won fair and square, I just have to get better at it to beat you next time."
"Sooooo... you're not mad?"
"Irritated, but not mad."
He swore he heard you mumble about there not being much of a difference but didn't bring it up.
"Well either way, I made a thing for you."
Vox had to kind of squint to understand what you were showing him.
At first he just thought it was a crocheted mess, just a bunch of tangled yarn and threads.
Though upon closer inspection, it wasn't difficult to notice what it was.
Was that meant to be a plushie in his likeness?
Valiant effort, but was it supposed to look so...
Odd?
"What even is it?"
"Ehhh??? You can't tell? It's you!"
"That's- huh??"
You seemed to pout at his bemused expression, shifting your gaze to the plushie you made instead.
"My friend knows how to crochet so I asked her to teach me, this was the first thing I ended up making."
"Shouldn't you have gone for something easier first?"
"Well yeah, but I wanted to make a gift for you to make up for earlier's fiasco."
Vox's eyes softened, he'd be lying if he said your words weren't endearing to a degree.
And... you got him a gift-
Kind of, he couldn't actually get it but it was the thought that counts.
You wanted to make him feel better because you thought you upset him.
That- that realization made Vox feel a little funny.
When you looked back towards the TV, you were surprised to find the screen tinged a baby pink instead of blue.
What...??
"Cute, still looks shitty though."
Vox's words immediately got you to stop focusing on the color of his face and instead get grumpy.
"Hey, at least I tried!"
You'd probably bring it up eventually, if you didn't forget it along the way from the ensuing word war.
Or, well- maybe it would be wise to forget it anyway.
You've just got to make it happen again.
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spideyhexx · 4 months
Note
i think that virgin Coriolanus is super loud in bed so with reader and Coriolanus’ reader has to cover coryos mouth while she’s riding him and starts to mock him for being so loud
you're so right
mdni - tw very slight blood play oop
Especially cause whenever he did jerk off, he'd probably be keeping so quiet, but the feeling he has with you wrapped around his cock is just not comparable. It's way too hard to contain his noises.
You knew this might become a problem before you were even on his cock. Only your hand holding his length as his head buried in your neck to leave sloppy kisses there and he tries.
Coryo tries, but he can't contain the moans he lets out. He'd be so embarrassed by it, but when his hand finds its way into your underwear and he feels how soaked you are, you tell him, "Your noises are driving me insane," and a shaky breath comes out of your mouth as his fingers explore you.
He would love to just bite down on your shoulder when you sink down on his cock, but he wouldn't be sure if that's the right thing to do. So he bites his cheek, trying to focus his energy on helping you move your hips, but Coryo is aware you're the experienced one and he just really needs to sit back and enjoy it.
But as you start to move faster, bouncing on him, your tits right in his face, he just can't hold it back anymore and he's moaning so loud. Over and over, whenever your cunt has his cock buried completely in it, the guttural noise that comes out is unlike any you've ever heard. There's no doubt you love it, but you know he needs to keep quiet. As he nears his end, you put your hand over his mouth, his blue eyes wide and darkened with desire.
"can't help yourself huh? Just gotta be so fucking loud," you sneer at him and if Coryo was right in the head at this moment, he'd take your words as an insult, but instead, they just make his hips fuck up into you.
"Coriolanus Snow? Do you like being made fun of?" And you know he can't answer with your hand over his mouth, his eyes tell you everything you need to know.
"Finally get your dick wet and you can't fucking stop moaning. All for me?" And he'd nod. Coryo would be fuming, his face heating up and his grip on your waist bruising, but he doesn't take control of the situation. He can't when he's so close and you feel so good.
You'd even clock the knit in his brow and the familiar dash of annoyance in his eyes, but you just smile at him, and his cock twitches. Even your hand can't muffle how loud he is when he comes. Coryo knows you follow suit and he wants to just pick you up and push you down into his bed, but he's savoring this feeling, biting harder on his lip.
His head is foggy and he barely registers you grabbing his jaw and kissing him. When you pull apart he can see a little red on your lips and he licks his own, tasting the metallic and realizing he was biting his lip too hard. You lick your bottom lip and Coryo groans, leaning his head to your chest. That's when he realizes you're just sitting down fully on his cock right now, "L-let's do it again," he mumbles.
"Will you be quiet?"
let's chat about coryo, here :)
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 6 months
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can't fight the moonlight
kinktober, day twenty-nine
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a/n: this one was a fantasy that was so fuzzy and took a surprisingly long time to figure out, but the hazy dream of it kept me going till i solved the puzzle
summary: it didn’t matter what you did or how hard you tried, you had no way of overpowering the beast the moonlight turned him into. 
warnings: werewolf!bucky barnes x reader, smut, bucky's wolf form is very humanoid looking (think more teen wolf, less twilight), dubcon/noncon, predator/prey, established relationship, monsterfucking, little to no foreplay, dirty talk, squirting, overstimulation, cock drunk, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, forced breeding, belly bulge, size kink, size difference
word count: 2345
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023
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“…and you’ve got some water in case you get thirsty and-, oh! Do you have something to eat? A snack or something?” you blabbered tensely as you helped lock the heavy chains that your partner snaked securely around his own limbs, bolting him to the cold basement for the night, “because I could go make you-”
Letting the iron in his grasp suddenly fall to the floor in a loud clang, like a volcano he exploded, “no!” heatedly throwing his hands up as he fumed, “I don’t need a fucking snack, would you just-…” catching your wide eyes, his sudden anger thawed a bit as he finally heard his own words, “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry,” you clutched your hands close to your chest, the keys tight in them dug into your palms.
Head lightly tilting to the side, Bucky let out a sigh, “you’re just trying to help and I’m-”
“It’s okay, I know,” you reassured him, “it’s the moon, I get it, don’t worry, darling,” you averted your gaze, staring down at the cold concrete floor, “I’m sorry about freaking out, like I do every month, but I just wanna do something that can make this better for you, even a little bit, anything, even though I know that there isn’t anything that can, I still can’t stop trying because I hate this,” you heard your voice grow thick and tears begin to blur up your vision, “I really really hate this.”
“Y/n…” you felt his fingers gently graze your cheek, bringing your glossy gaze back up to his, “you are helping, more than you even know. Before I met you, before you moved in and started being here every full moon, I was always terrified of getting out, terrified that I couldn’t detain myself enough and someone would end up getting hurt or worse… but I’m not scared of that anymore. It hasn’t happened once since you’ve been here to bolt the chains I can’t get to on my own and lock the doors from the other side. Plus knowing that you’ll be here when the sun eventually comes up, I hold onto that, no matter how painful it gets or how much I disappear, that fact doesn’t, it stays with me, keeps me somewhat sane throughout the night.” 
Letting out a shaky breath, you blinked away the mist in your eyes, trying to be brave as you uttered, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he exhaled, gazing at you as you leaned in to seal the final padlock with a click. Getting up to your feet, you stepped towards the door, but your fingers froze on the knob as Bucky’s voice filled the cellar once more, “try and get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you in a bit.”
Glancing over your shoulder at his shackled frame, sitting against the wall, skin already glistening from the pending trauma, you promised, “okay,” even though you knew this night wouldn’t be any different from the rest. 
You could never sleep when the moon was full, never even relax enough to rest for a bit. Even though the layers of resources that encased the basement silenced Bucky’s screams of agony from the rest of the neighbourhood as well as your own ears, just the knowledge that only one floor below where you were trying to slumber, there your beloved laid in pain as every single bone in his body had to break before he could turn into a monster of the moon, that awareness kept you up better than any caffeine could. 
Locking the solid steel door behind you, so you repeated with the one atop the wonky staircase, the rest of the house suddenly feeling so cold without his presence. 
Still clad in garb you’d worn to work, you couldn’t bother to change out of it even if the dress and stockings weren’t the most comfortable clothing to do an all-nighter in, you just seized the grey cabled cardigan draped over the armchair by the fireplace and shrugged it over top.
Holding the kettle under the tap to fill it up, your weary vision locked on the ominous sphere looming in the night sky clearly visible from the kitchen window. Losing yourself to the sight, too absorbed by the troubling thoughts it brought on, you only snapped out of the trance when cold water began to flow over the side of the pot and soak your hand that clutched it. 
“Oh, shit…” you mumbled as you hurried to turn off the water and pour some of the abundances back out into the sink. 
Placing it down on the stovetop, you listened to the gentle clicking that emanated before the eventual flame as you turned the knob. The slight heat radiating beneath the kettle persuaded you to shift into the living room and with the flick of a match, light the fireplace, granting yourself more of that soothing heat to help battle the night. 
You nearly jumped out of your skin when the water came to a boil, kettle whistling like a demon to relay the message. 
With a mug of tea in your hand, you curled up in the chair by the fire and picked up the half-read book discarded on the small side table. 
This was the routine, even though you never could concentrate, you still at least tried to distract yourself. 
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A sudden bang ripped your eyes away from the page they had glazed over four times by now. Your vision instantly trained on the door to the cellar, clearly visible from where you were sitting. 
As the door then began to rattle rhythmically from an unyielding force, your body jumped at every thud, the novel in your grasp tumbling to the floor. 
Frozen in your seat, you watched as the door splintered, swiftly losing the short-lived battle and flying off its hinges.
With heavy footsteps, Bucky’s visage stepped into the light, except it wasn’t the Bucky you knew, not one you’d seen with your own eyes, but only ever heard tales about.
At first, you thought he still looked like himself, but as the firelight flickered across his form, you finally noticed just how altered he was. His natural body hair had quadrupled, fuzzing up his visage and the rippling muscles that hid beneath it, those as well seeming to have swelled up making his frame nearly unrecognisable. Though he always towered above your comparative stature, his height now was something else entirely. The sight of his eyes chilled you to the very bone, the calming blue was completely drowned out by a sea of black, with only a tiny golden flicker in the middle differentiating the obsidian. Nails long and tough like claws, broken chains still clung to his form as you watched his lip curl, a low growl rumbling throughout the room and letting you catch sight of his sharp teeth. 
Scarcely breathing at all, your hopes of him not noticing your presence began to fade as he predatorily sniffed the air. 
Your eyes suddenly grew wide as you spotted a part of him begin to swell up and come into the light. Throbbing, his unusually grand length intimidatingly curved upwards, it too haven grown just as the rest of his body had. 
Finally breaking through your terror, you sprung up and tried your best to run, though you didn’t get far as, within mere seconds, the natural hunter caught up to you and tackled you down to the ground, shredding the cosy knit you wore in the process. 
Cheek smooshed against the floorboards, you trembled beneath his beefy form as his flaming chest pressed against your back, knowing full well that if you made one wrong move, aggravated him in any sort of way, he could snap you like a twig. It didn’t matter what you did or how hard you tried, you had no way of overpowering the beast the moonlight turned him into. 
As your eyes flickered to the front door, it dawned on you that if he could break not only the chain that bound him, but also the strong basement doors, then the last barrier that kept him from the outside world wouldn’t even make him break a sweat. 
Growling directly in your ear, you felt his agitated breath fan across your face as his nose buried itself in your hair. Starved sniffs slowly travelling south, your heart nearly burst out of your chest as you felt him rip your clothes to shreds. Dress tattered and hanging off of you, your underwear swiftly disintegrated completely as only your stocking truly survived the attack, still clinging around your quivering thighs with only the smallest of tears to tell the tale. 
Grinding desperately against the curve of your form, his monstrous girth nudged against you, catching you off guard as even in this petrifying form, you still felt your body respond to him. 
“Bucky, Buck!” your voice squeaked in an attempt at breaking through to him, “it’s me! It’s me! It’s Y/n!” wildly flipping you over and roughly aligning himself with your core, you desperately tried to catch his dark eyes and try again, “Bucky, please!”
Joints locking up at the sound of your shrill cry, a flicker of reignition washed over his haunting glare, softening it slightly as you finally heard him speak, “…Y/n?” his voice was much lower than you’d ever heard it, though very much still his, “oh, fuck… I-…” a shaky breath escaped his lungs as he hovered above you, the tip of his cock nuzzled between your folds, “…I don’t think I can stop…” he grunted, his hand right beside your head digging into the floorboards and leaving splintery scratches in its wake, “I can’t fight it, I’m trying, but-”
“It's okay,” you carefully reached up and touched his cheek. You couldn’t let him run out that door and take some innocent lives. At this moment, all of his focus was aimed at you, so if it could just stay there and not stray till the sun came up, if you could distract him for only a little while longer, then the night might end without any unnecessary bloodshed. So, therefore, you gave in, “I love you, I love you so much,” your glistening eyes blinked up at him as you tried to speak with confidence, “you’re not gonna hurt me, I know you’re not. It’s okay, it’s-” 
Plunging into you, an almost animalistic noise accompanied his harsh action as the beast he’d become seized exactly what it desired. All of the air got pushed out of your lungs as he buried himself in you, stretching you out beyond belief and forcing a shuttering cry to tumble from your lips. 
Never mind the fact that he wasn’t wearing a condom, a thing the two of you had always been careful about, that detail fought to penetrate through the fog he sent you into. Stunned that you could even take it all, the sensation of him made your mind melt. You felt all of it. Every vein and every ridge, every jaw-dropping detail that decorated his monstrous cock drove you to madness.
“Fuck!” he snarled, bucking his hips so hard against yours that your whole body shook, the sloppy clapping of skin against skin filled the home as he greedily rammed against the deepest spot inside of you, “do you have any idea how long I’ve tried to break out of those chains?” leaning down closer, he inhaled deeply, “I can fucking smell you…” you shivered as his nose ghosted against yours, “all the way down in the basement, no matter where you are, I can always smell you… calling for me, begging me to come and rip you apart…”
Leaning back again, his bruising grip found your hips and plucked them up, holding them tight as the rest of you still laid melted against the floor like a puddle before him. Like a ragdoll in his grasp, he moved your body, fucking your drooling pussy like the ravenous beast he was. 
As your eyes fluttered down to where he virtually split you in two, the dull bulge that rhythmically appeared in your lower stomach at each and every one of his ruthless thrusts caught your attention, the vision making you dizzy. 
You had never felt like this, never felt anything so intense in your whole life. He was just so menacing, so magnetic, so massive. Your own enthusiasm caught you by surprise, especially as your cunt soon began to cry out around him, showing your living room floor in your want as you squirted all over his rock-hard girth. 
Usually, Bucky would slow down and give you a moment whenever you had an orgasm, but in this moment, tonight, it wasn’t your Bucky that was pounding the living hell out of you, it was someone else, something else, and that creature only seemed to get even more riled up by your lewd display as he picked up his speed till his gravelly groans grew louder and his efforts began to go sloppy. 
“Please, Buck,” you mumbly pleaded, picking up on his telltale signs through your cock drunk haze, “not inside.”
But he didn’t listen to you as he just kept on fucking you till he pumped your pussy full of his cum. 
Panting and puffing above you, he still kept up shallow thrusts, rocking you against him and pushing his load out of your overly sensitive cunt with every piercing plunge. 
“Buck?” you heard yourself uttered as you found his dark gaze, though what stared back at you was not your love anymore as there was no recognition to be found in his eyes at all. 
Slamming you back against him hard enough for it to sting, you shuttered at the possibility that he was nowhere near done satisfying his carnal desire. 
But just before he could ruin you completely, a sliver of light began to dawn on the far side wall. Glancing out the window, you barely managed to spot the morning crest over the treetops in the distance. 
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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peachseashell · 4 months
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˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ Forgetful as a goldfish
(request) kazuha, kaeya and scaramouche - separate -with a s/o that barely eats anything because they always forget and never notice it.
✦ Warnings: reader is gn! No pronouns used, forgetful reader obv, tough love (?) slight kaeya/Wanderer mischaracterization???
✦ Notes: actual footage of me speeding through rqs before Christmas and im also rlly excited. I'm gonna stay up late so i see santa/father Christmas :3 jk I'll be sleeping like a baby. Also this is short I'm sorry 🎅
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Kazuha
- Kazuha, being quite a calm and collected samuri , doesn't particularly invest in others lives; usually letting them walk their own path, yet when it comes to his lover, you. Kazuha tends to pay more attention to your habits and the little things about you.
- at first, your seemingly harmless forgetting to fill your stomach was just a silly mistake to him, thinking perhaps you were just a hard and busy worker, until it became constant. You never seem to eat, nor starve or crave. He doesn't understand how you survive everyday.
- He knows you must eat to maintain energy and happiness, so being the lovely boyfriend he is, he takes time out of his day to frequently remind you to eat something, even if it's just a snack.
- eats with you so you feel more comfortable/less pressured because he's the perfect boyfriend ^^
Kaeya
- this man is probably loaded with mora. So, he might just buy you fancy tasty treats until you gain an appetite or start reminding yourself to eat something delicious. Dinner dates at the tavern/favourite restaurants because he wants to spoil you until you're broke.
- sends some dude with his captain privileges to deliver snacks during the day if you're at work or at home with little love notes because he wants to treat you like a princess/prince/royalty, he loves you a lot.
- on his lunch breaks he comes to your home/work to eat with you and have picnic dates sometimes (anything to get outta work!/j)
Wanderer
- notices, asks you about it after like two days, then his mission to make you remember to eat again begins. It's scary actually, I can see him appearing behind you all of a sudden to ask if you've eaten.
- he WILL cook for you, full course meals if he has too. Wanderer is the definition of 'tough love' in a way, like for example. Wanderer will feed you gently whilst insulting you for being stupid and not eating.
- Wanderer doesn't need to eat since he's a puppet but will eat with you to make you feel better about it.
- is a worry wort even if he doesn't admit it. It could be 4am in the morning and he'd be waking you up to ask if you ate breakfast last week on thursday at exactly 9:36 am then gets fuming if you say you hadn't.
- sometimes you feel like you're being watched when he manages to fin you during the day, asking if you want to go have some lunch with him.
don't share my work anywhere ty!!
Also heres Christmas scara wip/sketch
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