#‘...tie up your damned uniform’

[slytherinslut0]

mattheo riddle. let me fuck you.

PAIRING: Mattheo Riddle x Gryffindor!Reader

SUMMARY: worried that mattheo was just going to use you for sex and leave, you had him agree to courting you first until you felt you were ready to take it to the next level. after months of this, mattheo finally can’t take it anymore, and lands himself on his knees at your feet.

WORD COUNT: 4.1k.

TAGS: 18+, SMUT MDNI, Degradation, Praise, Absolute Feralism, Begging, Exhibitionism, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasm, PIV, Semi-Public Sex (implied cloaking charm), Dirty Talk, Swearing, Oral (f receiving), Body Worship, Slight Breeding Kink.

Courage. Bravery. Honesty--all traits that your house, Gryffindor, valued and honoured.

However, conspicuously absent from that list, was stupidity. A trait that you certainly seemed to posses a fucking abundance of these days.

To delve into the specifics, you possessed stupidity in the form of pure idiocy that took root when you began messing around with a certain curly haired Slytherin boy. This curly haired Slytherin boy just so happened to come from a group of assholes who seemingly detested your friends as well as your own bloody existence, having been nothing shy of full blown enemies for majority of your time spent at Hogwarts.

And yet, somehow, one thing led to another with this certain boy, and before you knew it you'd found yourself in a certain situation you'd never have imagined in a million damn years.

A courtship.

Securing Mattheo Riddle's commitment to court you exclusively, with a firm agreement to abstain from sex until you felt unequivocally ready, baffled your understanding. This arrangement was meticulously crafted out of a deep-seated concern that, left unchecked, he might merely try fuck you and then vanish without a trace.

He was known for doing that.

The rules of the courtship were a safeguard for your heart, a decision rooted in self-preservation, rather than any preoccupation with your virginity or lack thereof.

The harsh reality was simple – you desired Mattheo Riddle, despite every instinct screaming that you shouldn't. To shield your heart from potential wreckage, you implemented a set of rules governing the extent to which Mattheo could advance in your relationship. The decision to progress to the next level, if and when you deemed him deserving, rested solely in your hands.

It was a fool proof plan. No way for you to get hurt.

However, to absolutely no one's surprise, Mattheo wasn't a fan of this plan –not when he reluctantly agreed to it, and certainly not now. Not as you were seated across from him in a dimly lit corner of the library, the top buttons of your white button-up uniform shirt straining against the curve of your tits, your tie a loosened mess around your neck, and your burgundy pleated skirt way too fucking short for any bloody blokes sanity to remain intact.

Mattheo had counted the fucking days since the two of you started messing around, each instance of shared intimacy without crossing that final threshold chipping away at his restraint like relentless erosion. He wasn't fucking sure how much he had left in him.

"Did you finish this one, Matt?" Your voice rang out as a soft whisper, the hum of it snapping Mattheo from his wandering thoughts.

Forcing himself to meet your eyes and not linger on the buttons of your shirt just begging for fucking relief, he nodded. "Yeah. This one too."

Mattheo lifted a divination book, a testament to the exhaustive night the two of you had spent cramming for tomorrow's exam. Weary, you gave a nod, pushing up from the desk.

"Let's put these away, yeah?" you suggested gently.

Mattheo's throat parched as he observed you tugging down your skirt, a belated realization of how perilously high it had inched past your hips. With an innocent effort to conceal the expanse of those enticingly thick thighs – the same thighs he enthusiastically found himself nestled between every damn night – you fueled a growing heat within him. Mattheo cleared his throat awkwardly, giving a nod before pushing himself up as well.

As the two of you retreated into a dimmer, more secluded section of the library, you bent at the hips to return your book to its shelf. Unmindful of Mattheo's intense gaze, exhausted yet persistent, you began chattering. "I think there might be one more we can skim through, if you're still up for it-"

That thought abruptly dissolved as two sizable, calloused hands sought out your body, gripping anywhere and everywhere they could. An instinctive flinch involuntarily escaped you, but the sensation of those hands delicately tracing your thighs swiftly eased your tension. A trail of burning flames surged up your torso, and you instinctively straightened against him.

"For fucks sake." Mattheo's voice resonated as a low, deep growl in your ear, so intense you questioned whether he meant for you to hear it. His fingers clawed at the buttons of your shirt, nearly tearing it open in a frenzy. "What the fuck are you doing to me."

"Matt-" your hands came up, finding his. The two of you had certainly messed around in a lot of questionable places, but the library? At midnight on a weekday? "W-what are you-"

That sentence was abruptly cut short as Mattheo's lips attacked your neck at the same exact moment he slipped a hand through your now unbottoned shirt and roughly cupped one of your tits, twirling his thumb over your nipple. An entire body shudder rumbled through your limbs and the softest of moans escaped your lips, filling the charged air between you.

Music to Mattheo's fucking ears.

"Let me fuck you." It wasnt necessarily a demand but more of a plea. The desperation in his tone was fucking palpable. He sunk his teeth into the side of your neck as he pressed his hips against your ass, the entirety of his erection jabbing into your back. "Let me fucking fuck you."

You gasped, lids fluttering in an involuntary response as his hand switched to your other breast now, kneading and groping and squeezing with just as much fervour, more even. When you moaned again, he growled against your neck, pulling off you momentarily just to spin you around to face him.

His hands seized your hips, pressing you back against the shelf. "What is it, princess? What the fuck do you need from me?"

You scarcely had a moment to absorb the question, accompanied by the raw, desperate vulnerability in his tone, before he surged into action again. Long fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your skirt, while the other hand ascended to your jaw, gently tilting your head back to meet his intense gaze.

"I've been so fucking good, have I not?" His fingers inched excruciatingly slow over your mound, taking his time to tease you for all he could, watching every subtle ministration of your face as he went. "I've stayed out of fights. Haven't partied. I've been so fucking loyal..."

You swallowed, acknowledging the sincerity in his words. Yes, all those things were undeniably true. Mattheo had transformed into a different man in recent times. While you were drawn to him for the chaotic soul he was, the fact that he willingly opted out of party nights to spend time with you hadn't escaped your notice in the slightest.

Mattheo noted your silence. "Was it the drugs? Because you know I quit those."

Long fingers crept toward your slit, one finger gliding along and coating itself in your slick. Gods, if you weren't already fucking dripping for him.

You tried to shake your head. "No, Matty..."

His hold on your jaw tightened as he felt how fucking wet you already were. He snuffed a groan in his throat. How a little fucking Gryffindor could manage to have him in such a chokehold was beyond his comprehension.

"Is it the smokes?" He tilted his head, watching your eyes. "Because, fuck--I'll light every last one into flames right here in this fucking isle. I'll use the ashes to sear your fucking name onto my skin--just give me the goddamn words."

As his finger connected with your clit, drawing quick frantic circles over it, you mewled, your hands squeezing his biceps as your brain could only muster the comprehension to say one fucking word.

"Mattheo-"

"Mhm." Mattheo groaned, pressing his lips to your temple, his hand on your jaw slithering down to clasp a firm hold around your neck. "Yeah, baby, that's my name, fuck...say it again."

His pace on your clit increased, your head spun with carnal lust. Intoxicated. "Mattheo-"

"Yeah, good girl. Fuck--so fucking good." The reply came within seconds, along with the release of your throat, his hand gliding back to tangle in your hair. "Come on, baby, you know I'm not in this for the sex...you know I want way more than that."

If you hadn't already been rendered helpless and speechless from his relentless pace on your clit, you would have scoffed at that. But instead, all you could do was attempt to breathe the words out between your moans.

Your lids squeezed shut, fingernails digging into the fabric of his uniform. "I-I don't know that, actually."

"Fuck." Mattheo dipped low, his finger thrusting into your cunt before you could even realize it had, his thumb continuing the pace on your clit. The way your wet walls gripped his finger as he pumped it in and out of you was enough to send him into pure fucking desperation. He sucked in a deep inhale, gathering himself. "How do you figure that, hm?"

"Because-ah-here you are practically fucking begging me to let you fuck me." Your back arched, your legs trembling. If it wasn't for Mattheo's looming frame practically pinning you against this shelf, you were certain you'd be a pile of limbs on the floor at his feet. "You're just...t-telling me what I want to hear, Matty."

"I'm not." His pace increased, his brows knit tight. He didn't like that response. Not one fucking bit. His lips found your ear, his grip on your hair intensifying. "You don't understand how fucking bad I want you--how fucking bad I want every single last inch of you. Your laugh, your smile, your wit, your heart, your fucking soul. You haunt me every moment I'm awake. Even when I'm asleep you're there, fucking torturing me. I dream about waking up next to you. I dream about growing old with you. I dream about worshipping you, pleasuring you. I dream about pumping this perfect cunt full of my cum. No woman has ever fucking done this to me. I'm insane for you. For fucks sake please let me fucking fuck you princess. I need you so fucking bad. All of you."

"Gods," was all you could say, not a single shred of coherence left in your brain, not as those words bounced around inside your head in rhythmic hums synced with the movement of his fingers. You were right there. "Matt--fuck, I'm gonna cum-"

"Mhm, go on baby," he cooed with a softness that seemed to fray against the edges of desperation, his voice nearly shredding against his vocal cords. How he was keeping himself together was truly fucking impressive. "You're so fucking good for me. Such a pretty fucking pussy, hm?"

"Yours," you breathed out just as your vision blurred, your entire body shuddering around his fingers. "It's all yours!"

A choked gasp slipped from your lips, swiftly muffled by the plush entirety of Mattheo's mouth. His tongue invaded past your teeth, meticulously exploring your gums as if etching the details into memory. The sound of his groan reverberated through you, but it soon became a mere echo as your ears rang and your orgasm charged, coursing through every inch of your being, leaving your head spinning and your body trembling against the shelf.

Mattheo withdrew his lips from yours, sensing the aftershocks of your orgasm rippling through you, sure in the fact you had regained enough composure to remain quiet without his help. He grazed his teeth along your jawline, warm breath bathing your skin as both of you panted in unison, bodies pressed and fighting for breath as he slowly pulled his finger from your cunt and teased over your clit with slow, sensual swirls.

"Let me fuck you," he repeated again, softer this time, his voice a whisper as light as a feather in the air. "You said it's mine...you said this pussy belongs to me."

"Yes," you panted, squirming against his hold as he continued his slow teasing strokes over your clit. "I...I did say that...it does..."

"Mm," his dark eyes lingered over your lips before he leaned in slightly, resting his forehead against yours, erratic breaths intermingling. "Please. Fucking please, let me take what's mine."

Mattheo Riddle had gone by many names over the years; an asshole, a delinquent, a rebel--but a man with manners? A man who'd ever had to beg and plead for something he wanted? That was not something you would have ever included in his description. Seeing him like this, completely and openly vulnerable, did something to you. Something you knew you could no longer resist. This was a man you knew you were willing to take risks for, willing to risk getting hurt for. It'd been fucking months. You wanted him. Just as fucking badly as he wanted you.

"I dunno, Matty," you grinned, unable to fight it off even if you tried. "Maybe you should say please again...maybe you should say it on your knees..."

Mattheo huffed, a groan accompanying it.

"Dirty, dirty little thing..." he whispered, pulling his hand from your cunt entirely now, both hands shifting to your hips, gracing them with a feral squeeze. "You really fucking are mine, aren’t you?"

As Mattheo Riddle dropped to his knees at your feet, you were certain the entire world had faded away. You were certain that time no longer existed and that there wasn't a single other living being in the entire expanse of the universe--all there was, across all existing planes of reality, was you and this messy, curly haired boy at your feet, looking up at you with dreamy chocolate eyes, poised to beg and fucking plead for release from his torment.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," his hands trailed a steady path from your hips down your thighs, squeezing and grabbing every inch of flesh he could. "You know that, right?"

You pulled your lip between your teeth, unable to peel your eyes off this boy before you. He was mesmerizing, In all his glory. Every last fucking molecule of him.

"Yes, Matty..." you breathed, your hands clutching at the wooden bookshelf behind you, steadying yourself. "You tell me a thousand times a day."

"Only a thousand? I was aiming for way more than that." Mattheo hummed, wetting his smirk-adorned lips as he brought his mouth to your inner thigh, softly nipping at it. "Guess I have to step my game up, huh?"

You blinked, pulse pounding in your ears. “I-“

“Please, princess…” Mattheo shifted, snapping himself back to the task at hand, nipping at your other thigh now, his voice so soft you almost missed it. His eyes never left yours. “Fucking hell.”

In one swift movement, his hands gripped your thighs and spread them apart, one leg slung over his shoulder as he brought his lips to your already dripping cunt, placing a vulgar kiss to it, tongue delving into your slit, a trembling groan echoing in his throat when he swallowed your wetness.

Your lungs sputtered, head falling back against the shelf--his eyes, in the pits of perversion, watched you, soaking in your speechless delight while he explored each tiny crevice of your cunt. Bliss built inside of you for the second time, blocks of white hot energy, stacking with every second those velvety, full lips massaged your folds. Your mouth fell in an open pant, your hips rocking into his face--his hands moved, sticking your wrists to your hips as he gripped you there.

You struggled to find your breath--oxygen had left the room--and you squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to keep your moans quiet. Your previous orgasm still had you tingling, the stimulation almost, almost too much--but you found yourself climbing toward your second with little effort. Your eyes rolled back, pleasure crashing over you, tiny moans leaving you while he sucked slowly on your clit, engorged and throbbing at his lips.

"Fuck, Mattheo-" you whined, your nails digging into the flesh of your own thighs as his strong grip kept them pinned there. "I'm gonna-fuck-"

Your core thumped with a demand to cum--Mattheo was reining you to a cliff, your desire a wild animal, bucking with abandon and ecstasy.

"Mhm, that's it," he muttered into your flesh. "Let me fucking taste you."

His tongue swirled over your nub, slipping wet circles around it before he groaned and sucked it hard between his teeth. You wailed, cracked, orgasm gushing through you, a geyser, a cascade of ecstasy that left you quaking, your walls spasming at his chin.

There was no more holding back your moans. "Oh--f-fuck!"

Mattheo swallowed your release hungrily, releasing your wrists and clutching your hips to his head, as if the evidence of your pleasure sustained him, laving at you until you squeaked and jerked from sensitivity. With a satisfied gasp, he released you entirely, slowly rising back up to his full height, watching with tethered emotion while you descended from your high.

Without even giving you the chance to process it, he reached down and swiped two fingers along your slit, collecting your cum before bringing it up to your lips and urging it past your teeth.

"That's what I do to you, baby," he cooed, his eyes far less intense than they were before. His free hand brushed the sweat dampened hair away from your forehead, watching as you wrapped your lips around his fingers and worked them clean. "You like that?"

You nodded, heat flashing your face, and Mattheo groaned appreciatively, slowly pulling his fingers from your mouth. His gentle grip found your chin now, drawing your eyes to his.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, "you don't have to-"

You cut him off. "Fuck me, Matty."

Mattheo blinked, and you reached for his belt.

"Please, Mattheo," you clenched, body quaking with need. Even after two orgasms you still wanted more, needed more. You needed him, and now you were the one willing to beg for it. "Please, fuck me."

Almost immediately, Mattheo's eyes darkened, his gaze glossing over with a hunger that spoke volumes far louder than any words ever fucking could. He leaned in slightly, your scent still lingering on his breath.

"You want me inside you? Hm?" He purred, lips grazing over yours. "You want me to fuck you here? Open and exposed for anyone to see?"

You smirked knowingly. The cloaking charm he had cast didn't escape your notice. This boy always had a knack for thinking one step ahead. Yet, the exhilaration of the prospect was just another facet that had initially drawn you to him.

You nodded. "Yes, Mattheo...I need you..."

Mattheo pressed his lips to yours, not wasting another singular second of time as his hands moved to the clasp on his belt, fumbling with it, a low groan escaping him as he pulled his throbbing cock free, gliding his fist over it a few times as his tongue hungrily fought with yours.

Mattheo's hands shifted to your shoulders, spinning you around, your own hands grasping at the shelving in front of you. You felt the warmth of his thick length gliding between your thighs, teasing you, slicking himself in your wetness.

"You're sure you want this?" Mattheo's voice was a soft growl in your ear, his hands grasping at your hips with enough force to bruise. "Fuck, princess, please be fucking sure."

The reaction was immediate. As though he asked you if you needed oxygen to breathe. "Gods, I'm fucking sure, Mattheo. I'm so fucking sure."

"Fuck," he muttered, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, fingernails digging into your flesh, pulling your skirt higher up your torso. "You've got me so fucked up, princess..."

As he slicked his length over your core once more, teasing your entrance, you whimpered. He was so smooth and silky and fucking big...you knew this was going to sting, even after two orgasms, even after he had you dripping down your thighs. Just that thought alone made your pussy clench, you'd do fucking anything to get him inside of you.

"Mattheo..." you whined, your body tensing with each false thrust. "Stop teasing me."

"Shit,” he breathed, easing the head of his length into you now, before slowly pulling out. "I'm teasing myself, baby...I don't know if I'm going to be able to control myself-"

You groaned, shuddering. "Please!"

Mattheo matched your groan with one of his own, and with one smooth movement, he tightened his grip on your hips, tugging you closer before he drove his dick into your cunt, splitting you open with one deep, slow thrust.

"Oh..." he moaned, paused, froze, entire body seemingly turned to stone. The only outward sign of his consciousness was his rapid breath washing over your neck. "...fuck."

You gripped the edges of the shelf with such intensity your knuckles were pale, doing everything within your power to keep quiet. The feeling of him seated inside you like this was everything you'd fucking imagined it to be. Better even. Your entire body was tense with bliss, your walls moulding around him.

Mattheo's lungs sputtered. "Relax...fuck-relax around me, baby..."

"I-" You weren't sure what he meant, your body trembling, your heart pounding in your throat. "Matt-"

"I'm not going to fucking last," Mattheo growled into your ear, the strain in his vocal cords more prominent than ever. "...if you keep squeezing me like that."

You mewled, head falling back against his shoulder as you fought to suck oxygen into your lungs. Mattheo finally began to move inside you; slow, easy strokes in an effort to give you a chance to adjust, feeling your tight walls relaxing around his thick girth, before he pulled out entirely and slammed back in, stuffing you full, groaning as you pulsed around him with each brief pause.

"Fuck...tight fucking pussy...so fucking wet..." he whispered, lips pressed against your ear. "All fucking mine."

Any ounces of restraint Mattheo had managed to maintain prior to this clearly had now been entirely annihilated as he increased his pace, fucking into you like a savage, as though he'd never get to fuck you again. He panted into your ear, groaning, fingernails bruising your thighs while he hammered your cervix with thrust after thrust after thrust. Sputtered curses left him under his breath and he attempted to silence himself with your neck, biting and nibbling at your throat. You stifled every single noise that threatened to leave your lips, body bouncing with the power of his hips, air hiccuping in your lungs as he pounded you.

"This little pussy is mine...you're mine..." he growled, fingers snaking down and brushing over your clit. "Fuck, you feel so good...I can't believe you kept this from me for so fucking long..."

Rapture numbed you, at the edge of your skin, a typhoon ready to wreck you witless. Your lids fluttered, teeth biting your lip with enough force to draw blood. He was going to make you crack. Make you fucking scream. There was no way you could continue being quiet when he was fucking you this good.

"M'sorry, Matty-" you weren't even sure what you were apologizing for. "So good...so deep...I-"

"Cum for me." Desire had consumed you both, his pace embodying complete desperation, a frenzied, urgent need to bring you both to orgasm. "Cum so I can fucking breed you...pump this little cunt full of my cum like I've dreamed of doing for months..."

Mattheo increased his pace on your clit, thrusts deepening even further--which you didn't even think was physically possible. He was slamming you deep, panting with every snap of his hips, your pussy hot and slick and pulsing with your oncoming climax.

You couldn't hold it back anymore--"Oh Gods-Mattheo!"

You shattered, exploded into flames, spectrum of colour blazing through your mind, a string of sobbing wails fleeing you as pulsed and spasmed on his dick, third climax shuddering through your veins. Mattheo groaned, clamping his palm over your lips as he continued to drill into you, holding off his own climax for as long as he could until he was physically unable to control himself--and he cursed, lungs sputtering as his hips slowed, cock twitching inside you as he poured his cum inside your cunt.

The room itself seemed to shudder, a tremor rumbling in the hardwood until he had finished and slowly pulled out, a deep, satisfied sigh leaving his chest.

After you collected yourself enough you spun around and watched as he tucked himself away, brushing his dampened curly hair back from his forehead. He straightened out, tucking the soft white fabric of his uniform shirt back into his pants before doing up his belt.

The second his eyes met yours, you reached for him. "I'm sorry for making you wait-"

"Don't ever be sorry," he cut you off, pulling you into him and placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "You were more than worth the wait, baby."

#mattheo riddle #mattheoriddle #mattheosmut #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo smut #mattheoriddlesmut #riddle smut #tom riddle #harry potter #slytherin boys #slytherinboys #mattriddlesmut #matt riddle #theoriddlesmut #theoriddle #theodorenottsmut #theo riddle #tomriddle #tom riddle smut #marcuslopezsmut #marcuslopez #benjaminwadsworth #benjamin wadsworth #dracomalfoy #harrypotter #theodore nott smut

[arminsumi]

PROFESSOR GOJO

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

Note : idk smth about professor gojo... fks me up lol

Warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut/explicit content, teacher/student relationship, implied cheating, spanking, toys, public sex (classroom)

Professor!Gojo spreads your plush ass wide, making sure you can really feel the wood of his desk squishing flat against your pussy after he hoists you up and slams you down onto it.

Professor!Gojo commands you in an icy tone to play with yourself on his desk just like you do when you're alone in bed.

Professor!Gojo murmurs obscenities that a teacher should not be saying to a student while you rub on your pussy for him. His hand traces your thighs, eyes staring straight into your soul.

Professor!Gojo doesn't care that your ass stings from all that spanking. He promised he was going to set your attitude straight, didn't he? What did you expect after making that mocking comment in his class about his irresponsibility.

Professor!Gojo licks his lips and stares at you hungrily, like you're everything that his wife isn't.

Professor!Gojo jerks his fat, thick yummy cock tauntingly slowly while watching you play with yourself. He won't give into your begs for him to stuff you up. Not yet, anyways. He's a good professor. He'd never fuck a student. Especially not a bad one.

Professor!Gojo who has flippantly called you a 'bad girl' in the past when you returned your homework back half-complete, and then bent you over his desk and forced you to fill in this missing answers while he grinded his dick print into your pussy.

Professor!Gojo is always eyeing you out during lectures. Always smirking at your name when it appears next to the C- grade. Always winking at you when no students are looking. Always grading you harshly.

Professor!Gojo starts sweating when he sees you bend over in your uniform skirt. His hand shakes. He has to give his hard cock a few squeezes through his pants.

Professor!Gojo starts breaking down giggling during lectures when he plays with the settings on your wireless vibrator, knowing damn well that the reason you can't sit still is because of the deeply stuffed vibrating toy in your cunt.

Professor!Gojo who promises that if you get all A grades on every exam, he'll give you what you want and fuck your brains out on his desk while you hold onto his tie. A good student deserves a reward, after all.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

#smut #mdni #gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo x fem reader smut #gojo x fem reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #gojo x you #gojo satoru #gojo saturo #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader

[prettybean]

THEY’RE PERVERTS (COD +18)

* just for fun 🤐 don’t take it too seriously

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE

Ghost

He doesn't even realize how his eyes wander over your chest every time you stand in front of him. He tries his best to keep his focus on your face, but as soon as you start talking, his gaze involuntarily shifts downwards. He fantasized about your breasts countless times: he'd help you aim the rifle, standing closely behind you, just to secretly admire how they press against the weapon.

After practice, he would rush to his room, desperate to relieve the ache in his groin, picturing his cock between your breasts.

Soap

He felt like a creep: every time you went to take a shower, he would sneak into your room and crack open the bathroom door. Your naked body was too tempting for him, so he would pleasure himself discreetly until you finished and got dressed. Obviously, you caught on. This guy couldn't keep his mouth shut and you heard him moaning outside your door multiple times.

The next time you bumped into him, you couldn't resist teasing him. "Hey John, feel free to jerk off in my bathroom next time too."

Price

He adores it when you dress up in seductive attire for him, and you enjoy the power you have to arouse him simply by revealing your skin slowly. Whenever you're away from home, he eagerly rummages through your drawer, caressing the delicate fabric in his hands before using it to pleasure himself. He longs for you intensely, and the scent of you drives him wild. He vigorously rubs your panties against his throbbing length until they become stained with his release.

You've noticed on multiple occasions that your underwear has gone missing, and you're well aware of your boyfriend's kinky side. Despite this, you choose to ignore it.

Gaz

His gallery is full of nudes of you. Every time you two have sex, Kyle feels compelled to capture the moment, whether it's him fucking you or just you in a revealing pose. He spends his days admiring the pictures, proudly sharing them with his friends, as if they were a work of art (with your permission, of course). The sight of your dripping pussy on his phone screen brings a smile to his face, making his day. He leans in and whispers in your ear, "Darling, let me take another pic, I'll do whatever you want”.

Alejandro

Alejandro has a strong attraction to your legs. The sight of them in your uniform makes him feel aroused. He frequently requests you to wear high stockings, and you happily oblige. As the stockings cling to your thick thighs, Alejandro becomes more and more infatuated with their smoothness.

He lovingly touches and kisses them, gently caressing, nibbling, and even licking them. "Mi amor, I need your thighs around my fucking cock".

Graves

He takes pleasure in humiliating you. He's so twisted that he may publicly lift your skirt, revealing your underwear to everyone on his team. Your flushed face becomes his source of satisfaction. Even when you're walking alone with Philip, he wouldn't hesitate to tug your neckline down, exposing your breasts.

Many times, he deserves a firm slap from you, but your love for him is too strong. He'd even have the audacity to say, "Damn, next time, don't even bother wearing panties."

König

He couldn't resist letting you know how much you turned him on. Every time you bent down to tie your shoe or pick something up, he positioned himself behind you, pressing his hard erection against you. Even when you were cooking, he couldn't resist rubbing his cock against your ass. You loved hearing how excited he got, so much so that sometimes you purposely put yourself in ambiguous positions for him.

"König, my phone is under the bed," you say, bending down to retrieve it. Without hesitation, he gets behind you and thrusts his hips against your slit. "Search better, Schatz," he says with a mischievous grin.

Keegan

He couldn't help but find your tears beautiful. It stirred something inside him. You were a sensitive soul, crying at the slightest provocation - whether it was pain, anger or even joy. Keegan always tried to be there for you when you were upset, offering comfort and wiping away your tears. But every time he saw you cry, he couldn't help but feel a certain arousal. He tried to hide it, but you noticed the bulge in his pants.

“Sorry baby, sometimes it happens”, but you didn't mind. In fact, you found it exciting. When he fucked you, your tears only made it better. And he responded by pounding you harder and harder, as if he couldn't get enough.

#cod x reader #cod keegan #ghost smut #ghost x reader #konig smut #simon ghost riley #soap cod #keegan smut #konig x reader #john price smut #price x reader #alejandro x reader #alejandro smut #graves smut #gaz x reader #gaz smut

[slayfics]

You help Katsuki with his tie.

You paced impatiently in your dorm waiting for Katuski to message you back. He should be done getting ready by now. It was the end of the year and the school had set up a time to take a class photo.

You had planned to walk to the school together but he was taking longer than usual. You grunted and picked up your phone- no notifications. That's it... you stomped out of your dorm deciding to go check on him.

Making your way over to the boy's side of the dorms, you went up to the fourth floor and knocked on Katsuki's door.

"What?!" His husky voice called out angrily.

You took that as consent to come in and walked into his room. He was basically ready just putting his shoes on.

"We're almost late," You said.

"Yeah yeah, I'm ready now. We will be right on time," He said, finishing up putting his shoes on. You looked over his school uniform noticing he was dressed as usual, missing his tie and shirt half buttoned.

"Don't you want to wear your tie at least for the picture," You asked.

"Nah," he grumbled.

You couldn't help but notice his tie lazily thrown onto his bed and realize he had never worn his tie. Not even once since you had been paying attention to him. You couldn't help but wonder if maybe...

"If you don't know how to put it on I can teach you," You offered.

"What?! You think I don't know how to put on a damn tie! How stupid do you think I am?" He yelled.

You ignored his temper tantrum, grabbed the tie off his bed, and made your way over to him. Your lack of rise to his words bubbled up some guilt inside him for yelling at you... but just slightly.

You swung the tie around his neck, leaving it loosely dangling across his shoulders as you buttoned the rest of his shirt up to the collar. Despite his temper earlier he didn't fight you from putting the tie on.

You began to place the tie under his collar and tie it evenly around his neck. He watched your movements intently.

"My old man never taught me," He mumbled barely loud enough for you to hear the words rumble in his chest.

"I can teach you when we have more time," You offered. "Although I do prefer your sexy disheveled look," You teased. "Come on let's go, we are going to be late now," You said, finishing up adjusting his tie, and moving toward the door.

You felt your wrist harshly yanked back, as Katsuki pulled you into him and placed a rough kiss on your lips. The intensity and impact left you momentarily breathless.

"Ok after you," He said with a cocky smile spreading on his face as he let you go.

Tags~

@unofficialmuilover @snowmist-hashira

#anime x reader #anime x y/n #katsuki bakugo #katsuki x y/n #bnha katsuki #katsuki fanfic #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki fluff #katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #bnha fanfiction #bnha #bnha kacchan #bnha x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo katuski #bakugou x you #mha bakugou #katsukibakugou #mha x reader #mha fluff #mha #mha fanfiction #mha x y/n #mha x you

[satoruhour]

please do car sex w gojo where after a date reader couldn’t hold back!!

a/n: short one !!!!!sorry sorry just like that week ive got two essays due and im a little panicky! pls bear w/ me as uploads will be slow ty :")

warnings: fem!reader, playful banter (it’s becoming a thing w/ my gojo smuts idk why), handjob, oral (m! receiving), like one (1) spank, fingering, little prep, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

you’re not sure about why gojo looked so damn good today. you could attribute it to the fact that you haven’t seen your boyfriend in at least two weeks or the fact that he’s abandoned his jujutsu uniform for a formal suit. but you’re equally as dressed to the nines as him, visiting a quiet but delicious restaurant on the top floor of a mall.

“any reason why you’re so quiet, sweets?” satoru always could pick up on your silences and your mannerisms; being together all through high-school, at both his and your lowest, through taking care of megumi and tsumiki does that to him. the squeeze of our thigh is a question enough, done more for comforting you, though, and not for the dirty, dirty reasons you’re thinking about.

satoru bathes in the red light of the traffic crossing, and you think he simply looks stunning in the fitted suit and tie, blindfold exchanged for his signature glasses and his blue eyes that are so blue they shine over the stop light.

you bite your lip, turning in your seat slightly and grabbing his hand, heart jumping when it wraps around your smaller one — and he smiles at your reaction.

“nothing.” you hide a grin badly, getting one in return when you reach over his slacks, hand creeping up his thigh and getting closer and closer to his centre. he already knows you need not comfort, but rather something else, letting you give his hardening bulge one last squeeze before red turns green and your pout is the cutest thing ever. “damn.”

gojo steps on the gas and you’re forced to sit properly in the passenger seat, hearing a boisterous laugh from beside you, but he’s not exactly a law-abiding citizen either. he tugs on your hand, placing it on his hard-on and grinds into your hand, pins and needles forming in his hands from how hard he was grabbing onto the steering wheel.

“can’t keep my baby waiting, can i?” it’s said breathlessly, a smirk on his face that switches between its smug look and a face of pleasure. soft whines leave satoru’s mouth as you palm it, eyes fixating on the way the strongest sorcerer melts at your touch.

at the second red light, your hands are already tugging at his zipper, prompting pleas from your boyfriend. he sighs when you‘re fishing out his cock, pretty pink with an angry tip that’s leaking pre-cum, and when you start stroking — you can thank god that there’s no cars waiting at the traffic light with you.

gojo has a hand under your chin affectionately, eyes boring into yours that are starting to falter under your hand. it strokes his cock, squeezing and releasing, making sure all of his length gets your attention. the pleasured flutter of his eyelashes are the prettiest, a whimper escaping his lips that sends a spark right down to your cunt.

“oh f-fuck— your hands are so w-warm . .” there’s a crack in his voice and he breaks from your eye contact to lean back against the seats. your hands pump him slowly, enjoying the sensual moment until a honk from behind you surprises both of you and gojo screams, hitting his head on the roof of his car.

“ow— fuck!” gojo tsks, ignoring your giggles before he gets back to driving, “the other lanes are unoccupied, idiot!”

gojo, in classic gojo fashion, points his thumb and says can you believe that guy? like a suburban dad, shaking his head and sighing and forgetting his whole dick is out until you’re bending over the stick shift, engulfing his tip in your mouth.

your boyfriend chuckles, a twinkle in his eye as he looks down at you, “impatient little girl, aren’t you?” you only hum, preening at the hand that strokes your hair, aiding you but never really forcing you down as he drives at a leisurely pace. gojo grunts out when you run a tongue up the underside of his cock, other hand playing with his balls. his fingers tense momentarily on your head, before they move down your back, cupping your ass and you moan around his shaft.

“i’m surprised you didn’t drag me into the bathroom to fuck.” he speaks through laboured pants, earning a soft glare from you as you continue to bob your head.

“there was only— mmhff— one stall . .”

“wouldn’t have stopped me.”

you bite down gently on his dick as a warning and he yelps and laughs, surrendering with repeated okay’s. you feel his thigh move below you, speeding up to his penthouse when you’re holding tight onto his legs, steering wheel bumping into your head ever so often.

“o—oh . . baby, baby,” gojo groans out, pulling the car to a harsh stop and yet you’re not stopping, slobbering over his cock while the twist of your back starts to ache. but the sounds your boyfriend makes is just too hot, sucking in your cheeks more and going for the hilt. you bury your face in his pubes, gagging a little at his sheer length.

“shit, shit, shiiit . .” the gurgling sounds resonate throughout the car, interrupted briefly when the hand on your ass slips past the slit of your dress, going right to where your panties should be.

gojo breathlessly laughs, “no panties?” a spank to your ass and you’re wide-mouthed over his slick cock, pussy clenching around nothing.

“dirty whore.”

you click your tongue with a wink, moaning when his fingers tease the tight ring of your entrance and you’re forgetting all about your job when his fingers enter from behind.

“probably don’t even need prep — so fucking wet.”

you hum in response, sitting back up and climbing right into the comfort of his back seat. you’re too far gone to care when you start stripping, pulling the single garment of clothing off your body and gojo gapes at your lack of a bra too.

“was i just too amazed with the food?” he aaks himself more than you, but the endearing question brings a giggle out of you, making you violently gesture for him to just get in the back seat, already.

he follows you, as he would anywhere, lips meeting yours in a soft kiss, “clearly you wanted me to initiate . . i will be a better boyfriend, prommy.”

you pull away to make a face, “satoru, please never say prommy in your life ever again.”

“whhyyyyy?” now he’s just whining to annoy you, pulling him right into your face and spreading your legs. there’s a mixture of playfulness and desperation in your tone, hips humping the air at the lack of contact.

“please just fuck me, satoru.”

gojo gives you a sweet kiss, positioning himself right at your dripping cunt. he’s focused on pushing past your tightness, throbbing tip just nudging into your walls and satoru sighs—

“since my sweet girl’s asked so nicely . . gladly,” the height of the seats are perfect for gojo, bottoming out in you and moaning so loud the next neighbour over could probably hear you, “you’re so— tight, mmfuck—”

gojo finds a pace, head tilted to right where your bodies connect just to watch himself slip in and out of you. you’re entranced, too, just with the beauty of your boyfriend’s face as his brows pull together and his mouth hangs open.

“sa— satoru . . g-god,” you’re dragging him closer into you with your legs, locking behind his back as his hips continue to drive into your tight pussy. you’re so pliant, juices coating his cock so easily that he has no problem thrusting into you. “o—oh, pleaseplease—”

gojo props a leg up, ramming his hips deeper into you and the periodic twitches of his dick makes your pussy flutter, hips stuttering when you call out his name in such a sweet tone it’s got him wondering whether you were an angel instead.

“angel — fuck me — you feel so damn good . .”

“think— it’s the other way ’round,” a chuckle weasels its way out of satoru’s lips at your cheeky comment, bumping foreheads with yours gently as he holds his stare with yours.

“silly g-girl . .” your hands wrap around his neck at that, coaxing him into another deep kiss, moaning into his mouth and the way his body jerks into yours is just so cute. his tie is discarded, your dress is on the floor of the car and his hair is everywhere and you like gojo the best like this: dishevelled and messy, in love with you like always and he would happily be like this all the time if he could.

the sheer pistoning of his hips is so strong that the car is probably shaking, skin against skin and your dripping pussy that wraps around him so good that he can’t hold on any longer, muttering into your lips. his hand reaches down to rub at your clit, sending your body into little shockwaves into his hold.

“princess, i’m gonna—” he groans into your mouth, betrayed by his own body before his hips stammer and he’s cumming deep in you, spilling his seed deep into your waiting cunt and his eyes roll back. he has no chance of recovering when you’re reaching your high soon after, clenching so hard around him that his hips continue to buck into you. your brain is only full of satoru, satoru, satoru, whining into his skin as he fills you up.

“s’full . .” you mumble, pulling away drunkenly, meeting his slightly dull ones from his fatigue. “need more.”

your body moves on autopilot, prompting your lover to lie on his back seat without any protests and he welcomes you like clockwork atop him. and when you sink down, you swear you see another shade of blue pop up in his eyes at the sight. there’s a small sigh from gojo when you reach his pelvis, body illuminated by the street lamps and the moonlight. satoru is always in awe of whatever you do—

“that’s my pretty, pretty girl.”

#asks #satorusugurubae #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk gojo #jjk gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru #jjk thirsts #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen

[coralinnii]

Hi! How's it going?

Can I please request Leona, Riddle, Cater and Ace reacting to the reader wearing someone else's jacket?

‧₊˚✧New Jacket, Who Dis? ‧₊˚✧

↳ forgetting your jacket and wearing someone else’s  

feat: Leona ❋ Riddle ❋ Cater ❋ Ace genre: humor, fluff note: no pronouns used for reader, reader is implied to be smaller than Floyd, nicknames used for reader (cutie, babe, baby), established relationships, reader is implied to be from Ramshackle,

I swear I will get these requests completed even if it kills me. Damn my tendency to go into hibernation during winter! Anyway, hope you guys enjoy the reading ^///^

Part 1 2.7k followers writing event

Leona has jackets? 

I mean, you were sure Leona owns a plethora of high-end jackets and outerwear of the finest fabrics but be it a preference or perhaps too much of an effort, you rarely see the beastman wear anything other than a shirt and at best a dorm-mandated vest.

So, when you feel a chill down your spine on your way to class, the idea of asking your boyfriend for a jacket did not cross your mind. Can’t ask for what you’ve never seen.

A classmate of yours saw your pitiful form and offered you his school blazer. Something better than nothing, he thought. 

Grateful, you were quick to take up his kind offer and practically snuggled your face into it for warmth. Now in a better mood, you got through the first half of the day and quickly made your way to the greenhouse where you suspect a certain lion beastman is hiding. 

But it seems that said beastman wasn’t in high spirits as you were when with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw, he raised his palm towards you signaling you to step no closer to him. 

An unfamiliar scent unpleasantly wafted through Leona’s territory, and to his annoyance, you appeared to be the source of it. 

No, not you…That wretched jacket.

Leona doesn’t have to ask. He can surmise the situation on his own, the weather was chilly, you being stupid enough to leave without something cozy, and some brave or stupid herbivore handing you something with his scent even though you were the partner of a beastman. Though irritating, logically this was not something surprising… but he doesn’t have to like it regardless. 

And he doesn’t. 

Pointing towards you, he further narrowed his gaze on the jacket that has tainted you with its irritating stench of another man. “Oi, take it off.” 

Though confused, you did as he said (lest you want him even grumpier, you thought) and placed your friend’s jacket onto Leona’s outstretched hand. 

Suddenly and without warning, the dark-haired upperclassman harshly tossed the fabric to a random direction, with such feelings of disgust and annoyance radiating off from Leona, you would think the jacket spat in his meal or something. 

But no matter how many times you tried to ask for his reasons or how many times you begged him to let you go after pulling you into his arms so you could retrieve the abandoned jacket, Leona said nothing as he kept his grip strong around you as he fell asleep once more, lulled by your unobstructed scent. 

“Ruggie can grab my jacket for you so quit harping about it…You feel bad for Ruggie for the trouble? Tch, who’s fault you think that is?”

Riddle’s appearance is perfect to a T. From his bow tie to his socks, the Heartslabyul housewarden chooses his attire to what is required; nothing is missing and nothing in excess. 

Basically, he wouldn’t have a spare jacket nor can he part away from the required blazer of his school uniform despite how he honestly wanted to. 

You understood his hesitance completely and didn’t probe further. Unfortunately, it left you noticeably shivering, and Floyd just had to mention your shivering form akin to a jittery guppy. Learning your predicament, the tall mischief-maker had a fun idea. 

Which led to you finally leaving the classroom after Floyd finished his giggling fit seeing you looking practically devoured by his jacket. Floyd is a tall eel merman so the length of the sleeves and hem were certainly longer than an average uniform. 

“Go ahead and wear it, just give it back later.” The sophomore graciously lent his jacket to you, but you suspected that he just wanted to prolong the humiliation.

At least you were grateful he wasn’t there to laugh at you when Riddle saw you in this mortifying position. The taller student would have probably coughed up his human lungs from laughing at your boyfriend's stunned expression. 

“I…What is…” Riddle was dumbfounded. The sight of his beloved being swallowed by a jacket was not something he suspected. It is an amusing image to see, but definitely odd. 

What’s the procedure for this? This was hardly appropriate school attire, but Riddle was stumped as to what to do next since he can’t think of a rule that addresses your lover being dressed in someone else’s jacket in a comical fashion. 

Despite unable to complete his prior sentence, you knew what Riddle wanted to know. “…It’s Floyd’s. He thought it’d be funny.” 

There was a burning sensation bubbling in Riddle when he thought about the Octavinelle rascal, how close and unnecessarily clingy he probably was to you as he took glee in his nonsensical pranks. Then, an unpleasant thought sat in the redhead’s mind as he watched you roll up the sleeves of Floyd’s jacket draped over your form. That eel gave you his jacket while Riddle, your boyfriend, didn’t.

"I supposed I should have expected this, given my choice."

Riddle let out a sigh before extending a hand to you, his face flushing a familiar red hue. “It may be redundant, but perhaps I could offer my own jacket? A warmer one at least, I wouldn’t want you to needlessly catch a cold.” 

Happily, you took the sweet redhead’s offer. Walking together hand-in-hand, Riddle thought he could spare you a scolding about forgetting your jacket in the first place, so long as you rectify his mood by wearing his jacket instead. 

“As your boyfriend it should be my duty to protect and care for you, no one else’s.”

Cater would have no problem with sharing his jacket with you, if he can take some cute pictures of course. His wardrobe has a mixture of trendy and cool clothing due to his time at the Pop Music Club. It wasn't a matter of what he could offer but rather his time to even give this offer.

It was today of all days that he couldn’t find time to himself since there were some last-minute preparations needed for the Unbirthday party. You felt too guilty and nervous to suddenly ask your boyfriend for a jacket in all this commotion, so you tried to handle the cold without one. 

However, a classmate of yours was observant enough to notice your predicament and handed his jacket for the time being. 

You’ve stuck around the Unbirthday party, waiting for the festivities to settle and relax before scanning through the crowd to find the man with a beautiful shade of orange hair. 

But your boyfriend was quicker to find you as he surprised you first, covering your eyes from behind. “Guess who, cutie~?” 

Laughing, you didn’t bother to answer as you immediately spun around to leap straight into Cater’s arms, to which Cater happily returned in kind. 

“Looks like you got yourself some new threads. Almost couldn’t find you, cutie.” Referring to your newly acquired jacket, Cater could see the Heartslabyul emblem sewed onto its sleeve. Raising a quizzical brow, Cater questioned you, “Did you get it from the Adeuce duo?” 

His guess was wrong though as you told him a classmate of yours offered you his jacket, pointing him in the distance with his friends. Well now, that’s interesting. If it were one of his or your friends, that’s fine and dandy…but a random classmate…

Cater genuinely appreciated that his little underclassmen are chivalrous enough to help their fellow peers, but he admits that it’s a little different when it involves you. You’re special to him after all and he gotta make sure only he gets to give you the best boyfie treatment. 

With a smile on his face, Cater gently coaxed you out from the jacket before walking towards the oblivious student. “Let’s give him back his jacket, then we can head over to my room. I’ve got the perfect jacket for you to try out ♪”

“My cutie looks so ‘cammable in my jacket! This is definitely going on Magicam ♪ Oh, should we get matching couple outfits~?"

“Are you ever gonna stop sulking and tell me what’s wrong, Ace?”

“...” 

It doesn’t matter how long you two were dating, Ace would tease you so much if you ask for his jacket, it’s almost not worth it. You could already hear the redhead’s cheeky voice in your head. “Aww, is my baby feeling cold? Do you need your amazing boyfriend to warm you up?” 

Feeling a little petty and not in the mood for his teasing, you instead asked Deuce if he could spare his extra jacket for you. To your luck, he had his track team jacket on hand that he could offer to you. 

Warm and cozy, you met up with Ace who, upon seeing you, unceremoniously draped himself over you as he let out a deep sigh. “Ahh, I was so cold today. Thank Sevens you’re so warm.” 

Rolling your eyes affectionately, you wrapped your arms around him and rubbed his back soothingly. Glad you didn’t ask for his jacket, then. 

But as Ace shifted around in your arms, he looked over your jacket from his angle and felt a sneaking suspicion that he had seen it before…but not on you. “Hey babe, where’d you get the jacket from?” 

“Oh, it’s Deuce’s track team jacket. I borrowed it ‘cuz I forgot mine back at Ramshackle.” 

Which led to this predicament in Ace’s room, with the pouty freshman giving you the cold shoulder. Granted, it’s rather cute to see your boyfriend react so childishly over a jacket, but you’d preferred some cuddles right about now. 

But Ace kept on with his act. It may seem like an overreaction but to Ace, knowing that you asked for Deuce instead of him first left a sour taste in his mouth and a blow to his ego. He’s supposed to be your boyfriend, ain’t he? 

You sighed, having no choice but to “right your wrong”, then. 

Crawling to where your lover was, you leaned into the crook of his neck as your arms circled his waist. “Don’t be mad, I’m so cold and I need my strong, handsome boyfriend to warm me up with hugs~ Aaacceee…” 

Still met with silence, you upped the ante and started to press small pecks against his neck where you felt were getting hot and bumpy from your touch. Hiding your satisfied smile, you continued your onslaught of praises and coos. 

Damn you and your cuteness, he thought. Breaking his cold facade, Ace groaned in frustration as he pulled you into his arms, giving into the cuddles you wanted. 

“If you need something, you’d better be thinking of me first before anyone else, especially Deuce. Have some faith in your boyfriend here.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #riddle rosehearts #ace trappola #twst ace x reader #twst riddle x reader #leona kingscholar #twst leona #leona x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #cater diamond #cater diamond x reader #twst cater x reader

[roosterforme]

I hope this is a good space for horny thots cause holy hell. I’m ovulating so I’m FERAL rn..I need either Jake or Bradley or Bob or WHOEVER..I just need to bite his shoulder and leave teeth marks…nails scraping down his back..covering them in hickeys..ruining government property..cause..fuck ..yeah 💕😇

Nonny, this is ALWAYS a safe space for horny thoughts....

"Fuck," Jake panted, coming for the second time this morning as you arched your back off the bed and whined his name. Your fingernails were pressed into the side of his neck, the little bit of pain almost too pleasurable at this point as he quickly withdrew from your delicious body. "Baby, I need to leave."

Your pouty lips were too much right now. You'd spent the weekend with them gliding along his cock and sucking on his neck. You sounded like a spoiled brat as you said, "But, Jake, I wanted to go for three."

Well damn, now he did too. But he really just couldn't. "Give me a raincheck? Please, Baby? I can't be late for work."

You rolled onto your side as you said, "I almost kind of hate that you're technically military property."

"Fuck Uncle Sam," Jake grunted as he pulled on some underwear and his uniform pants without even cleaning off his cock. 

Your soft giggle was followed by a whispered, "Fuck Uncle Sam."

By the time he finally made it to base, he had absolutely no time to spare. He ducked into classroom number four just as Maverick called everyone to attention, and Jake stopped to stand next to Phoenix. But as soon as Maverick came closer and really looked at him, he knew he was in trouble. 

"Hangman," his superior office said with a bit of a humorous lilt to his voice.

"Sir?"

"Those are some... interesting bruises on your neck."

Jake could feel his cheeks heating up as everyone else turned to look at him as well. He must have been wrong in his assumption that his collar covered all of the hickeys, love bites and scratches.

"And, you're out of dress code, Lieutenant."

Jake looked down at himself in horror as he realized he'd buttoned his shirt incorrectly. He wanted to disappear. Or rather, he wanted to go back to bed and punish you a little bit for turning him into such a pussy drunk mess.

"Holy shit," Phoenix whispered as Maverick walked back to the podium. "Who did you spend the weekend with?"

"That's none of your business," he hissed immediately.

Maverick cleared his throat loudly. "Yeah, well it's about to be everyone's business when they see you running five miles around base and then doing two hundred pushups," he said loudly. "You were thirty seconds late and you look like hell. Get a move on, Hangman."

He thought about how tight he was going to tie you up while he was running.

#if you ask emily #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #top gun maverick imagine #jake seresin smut #locker room daggers

[everdreamofme]

it's a boy, girl thing

Chapter 2

mattheo riddle x reader

Mattheo awoke the next morning to the sound of a harp. Who the fuck is playing a harp this early? He thought as he groaned and moved to rub the sleep from his eyes. And what the fuck is on my face?

Grabbing the material covering his eyes, he yanked it off to see it was a Ravenclaw sleep mask. He quirked an eyebrow as he stared down at it. Had one of his friends put this on him while he was sleeping as a joke? But that's when he noticed...

The bedsheets were no longer his usual Slytherin green; instead, they were a royal blue with bronze details around the edge. And his hands... he dropped the eye mask and stared at his hands, which were now much more dainty, smooth, and also donning nail polish, turning them over as though that would explain the situation.

What the fuck is going on - why do I have girl hands??

Looking down at his body, he saw a pair of blue silk pyjamas and tits?! His hands immediately shot up to his chest—his chest, which was now a woman's chest!

What the fuck is happening to me?!

He flung back the curtains surrounding the bed and shot out of it. This was not his dorm; this was a Ravenclaw's dorm—and it was a fucking girl's dorm at that!

Cho Chang stood near another bed in similar pyjamas with her toothbrush in hand. She turned her head to Mattheo and smiled.

'I wondered when you were going to get up. Your alarm's been going off for ages,' 

Mattheo didn't answer. Instead, he walked over to the floor-length mirror on the other side of the dorm and stared in shock. Looking back at him was Y/N Y/L/N, standing in her blue pyjamas and her hair tied back into a ponytail. He moved to touch his face and felt physically sick when the Y/N in the mirror did the same.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shi-

'Y/N, are you okay?' Cho touched his shoulder, startling him out of his spiral as he turned to face her. His face forced a grin as he nodded rapidly. 'Yup!'

Mattheo didn't know what the fuck had happened, but somehow he was in Y/N's body. Should he tell Cho that he wasn't Y/N? How trustworthy was this girl? No, he decided against it. He had to find Y/N; she had something to do with this.

Attempting to barge out of the dorm past Cho, Mattheo felt her grab his arm.

'Are you planning on going to classes in your pyjamas?' She laughed.

'I, uh - I need to go find Y/N - Mattheo! Mattheo, I need to speak to Mattheo.' He stuttered out. Surely if he found 'himself', his body, this would sort things out, right?

Cho gave him a funny look. 'In your pyjamas? Before breakfast?'

Mattheo nodded rapidly once again and made way for the door. Cho grabbed his arm for the second time that morning. Damn, this girl is strong.

'I don't think so; get your uniform on before you get Ravenclaw deducted even more points!'

Shit.

What the hell was that? Y/N groaned as something hit her in the face, awakening her from her peaceful slumber. Forcing one eye open, she was met with a dark green room. Where the hell am I?

Sitting up in bed, her eyes adjusted to the light, and she looked around the room. Somewhat messy. Then she spotted Theodore Nott, still slightly wet and wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.

'Dude, you're gonna miss breakfast if you don't get up soon, again.' A voice from her left started her, and her eyes shot to see Lorenzo Berkshire fixing his tie in the small mirror near the door. 'And you're probably gonna be late for class again too, not that that's ever worried you before, but excuse me for looking out for my friends!'

What the hell are these idiots talking about? Where am I? Wait-

Y/N's eyes widened as she looked down at what once was her body. Instead, she saw a muscular torso and green bed sheets pulled up to her waist. Then she felt it. A strain on the lower part of her body, particularly in between her legs. It was hard. Her jaw dropped as she bunched up the sheets, forcing them further over her crotch.

No, no, no, no, no.

'Mattheo, you good?' Theo asked, now half-dressed.

Riddle?! Fucking Riddle?! I am going to kill him!

Looking up, Y/N noticed both Theo and Enzo were now looking at her. 'Mhmm.' Was all she could manage in response. Theo quirked an eyebrow as he began to button up his school shirt.

'Do I need to throw another pillow?'

'No! I'm, uh, I'm getting up now, I promise.' She responded, wondering how the hell she was going to get rid of her little problem before they spotted it.

'Alright dude, we'll see you in the great hall.'

Thank Salazar for Enzo!

As she watched both boys leave the room, she shot out of bed and over to the mirror Enzo was previously occupying. She almost had a heart attack as she saw Mattheo Riddle staring back at her.

Surely this is a dream... it has to be! Come on, Y/N, just wake yourself up!

'Okay, okay... one, two-' SMACK 'Ow, not a dream.'

Okay, don't panic, don't panic... but what the hell do I do about that?!

Looking down to her lower regions, Y/N's eyes widened. The tent in her boxers was even more prominent now that she had stood up. Panic struck her features once more as she tried to poke away the erection, only to change to horror once it sprung back up.

Okay, use your brain. Y/N... wait - a cold shower ought to help these things, right?!

Racing to the bathroom, she slammed the door and turned the shower the lowest it could go.

Y/N gasped as the cold water hit her skin, which turned into a sigh of relief when the little problem in her boxers started to fade away. Head falling back against the cool tiles, she let her eyes close.

'What the fuck have you done to me, Riddle?'

After rather awkwardly getting dressed in Mattheo's body, careful not to see more of him than she bargained for, Y/N sneaked down the stairs and through the Slytherin common room. 

If I can make it back to my own body, surely this would rectify- She was almost at the door when a hand clapped onto her shoulder, forcing her out of her thoughts as she turned with wide eyes.

'You good, mate?' Blaise wore a concerned look as he examined Y/N's face.

'Y-yeah just, uh... hungry! Yeah, super hungry.' She replied, hoping that was enough to convince Blaise. He stared momentarily at the boy in front of him before a grin crossed his features.

'Me too, let's head to the great hall before Crabbe and Goyle eat enough for the entirety of Hogwarts.'

Damn it, now I'm stuck with Zabini..

As they made their way up to the great hall, Blaise mostly waffled on about quidditch—something Y/N had absolutely no care for, even if one of her best friends was the Ravenclaw seeker. She chimed in with a nod and a murmer every now and then to make it seem like she was paying full attention. Luckily for her, Blaise barely came up for air and didn't notice.

As they reached the foyer, the pair spotted Pansy Parkinson chatting with Daphne Greengrass as they made their way towards the door of the great hall. Blaise took a deep breath and patted Y/N on the shoulder.

'Wish me luck, dude.' He muttered before sauntering up to Pansy and slinging an arm around her shoulders. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows.

'Uh, good luck? Ow - what the-' She was suddenly shoved into the wall behind her.

'What the fuck have you done to me, you - you witch?!' Looking down at the culprit who had all but tackled her into the stone of the castle, she saw herself, her face twisted into a snarl and tightly grasping a fistful of the Slytherin jumper that currently adorned her body.

Guess I found Riddle..

'Get your hands off of me, you bully!' She responded, smacking Mattheo's - her own - hands away from her. 'Need I remind you that you too possess magical abilities - how do I know this wasn't your doing, Riddle?!'

'You think I'm fucking responsible for this?!' He hissed back at her. 

'Well, it certainly wasn't me!' It seemed strange for the both of them, who were essentially arguing with themselves. 

'You're the one that like, knows everything-'

'That doesn't include whatever this is!' She hissed back at him, causing him to huff at her.

'You better figure out how to get my fucking body back, Y/L/N.'

'Trust me, there is nothing I would like more!' Y/N's bottom lip began to tremble as tears began to gloss her eyes. 

Mattheo's eyes widened. 'No, no n-'

'I don't want to be a boy, okay? I especially don't want to be you!' She sniffled and wiped at her cheeks as Mattheo's eyes frantically darted around the foyer, hoping no one would look on and see the Mattheo Riddle crying.

'Hey, hey, don't cry—don't cry, no, not here,' Y/N sniffed again and made eye contact with him as he tried to push her hands away from her face. 'Maybe this is just one of those twenty-four hour things, right? Like a head cold!'

'A head cold?' She scoffed back at him.

'Yes! Tomorrow we could be back to normal; we just have to get through the day first. Alright?' Y/N seemed to think about it for a moment before slowly nodding.

'Right, and if not, I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will be able to fix us; no bother.'

'Exactly! We'll just try not to draw any unnecessary attention today, and we should be fine.' Now it was Mattheo's turn to nod, almost as if to convince himself.

'Lay low! That's my body you're in, remember.' Y/N pointed an accusatory finger at her own face, watching as he rolled her eyes and walked away.

This is going to be a long day.

#harry potter #mattheo riddle #matteo riddle #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #harry potter universe #slytherin #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle fanfic #mattheo riddle fic

[angelltheninth]

You'll Remember You Belong to Me

Pairing: Flyod Leech x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, bathroom sex, mirror sex, possessiveness, dirty talk, semi-public sex, marking, jealousy, Reader is a brat

Word count: 0.8k

A/N: For those of you who've been begging for Floyd smut in my inbox, here you go.

You never thought that the simple act of going to a party would result in something like this. You asked Floyd to go with you and of course he accepted as he saw it as an opportunity to gather information and cause chaos. But it didn't quite pan out as either of you expected it to. There was drinks and dancing and laughter, and then it turned to you being dragged by the hand into the bathroom.

"Why so moody all of a sudden? Come on Floyd, I was just talking to Kalim, he's harmless, wouldn't hurt a fly." You already knew of Floyd's overly protective nature, overly possessive was more like it but it never escalated to this height. "You should work on your- ah- temper." You moaned as he pushed your face against the glass and your kept on thrusting his hard cock into you.

It hurt at first because neither of you were ready for this, he didn't even bring condoms, but the more his cock kept scraping against your inner walls the more wet you got.

"Harmless? Probably a real gentleman right? It'd be nice for him if that was your type right? You don't want gentle, I know you don't." His hands came to your front and tore your uniform open, causing your breasts to spill out for his hands to grab and fondle as he pleased. "The reason you're so wet is because you like it like this. Being handled like this."

You didn't say anything but you did make a mistake of smiling a little before you bit your lip. It was too late to hide it, Floyd saw you.

"What was that huh?" He hissed beside your ear, leaning in so close he had you pressed against the sink, your nails scratching the glass from the simultaneous pleasure and pain of his cock railing your pussy for punishment. "You slut. You wanted me to see it didn't you?"

"Maybe." You confessed against the glass, your hot breath making it foggy. "Maybe I like the punishment. Maybe I like you chasing me, teaching me a lesson I refuse to learn." You met his eyes in the mirror, "Maybe I want you to get you mad." Floyd bared his teeth at you before biting at your ear again hard enough to draw blood. It wasn't a big bite but will be noticeable up close.

Your moan echoed through the bathroom right before the music out side stopped, "I'd be quiet if I were you, angelfish. The door isn't locked, any moment now someone could walk in and see you being fucked and marked. Or even better, what if I carried you out with my cock still inside of you, threw you over the couch and fucked you full of cum in front of everyone?" He didn't wait for an answer he grabbed your thighs and stepped towards the door, keeping your legs open.

"What? Wait, hold on, that's not what I had in mind!" You bucked against him but to no use, "Floyd! I'm serious!"

"I know." When you were inches from the door Floyd shoved you against it instead of opening it, still holding you as his cock is able to push in deeper at this angle, "You think I'd let anyone else see this sight? See what's mine and mine alone? I thought you knew me better than that."

"I- fuck!" He tricked you. God damn, of course he did! "Enough, okay, enough! I get it, just let me come already!"

"Did you deserve it? Making me jealous like that, all for this punishment. I'm not sure brats like you deserve to come." It was your turn to be rough. With what strength you could you grabbed him by his tie and yanked him forward, his chin resting on your shoulder. "Use your words, I want to hear you say it. Do you think you deserve to come on my cock?"

"Yes!" You all but begged as your back arched, "I deserve to be made to... fucking come... on your cock, as many times as you'll let me Floyd." Taking advantage of his head being next to yours you turn and capture his lips in a kiss, enjoying the slight pain as his sharp teeth nibble of your lip before accepting.

With your mouth covered and the music beginning to pick up outside Flyod moves his hips along with it, slapping your hips against his with every beat, eventually building to your mutual climax. As the song comes to an end you can feel his cum pumping inside of you from his cock. Your body slumps against the door, a smile on your lips as you pull away from him.

"So good. Knew you could give me what I needed." Even if you had to be a brat to get it.

"Crafty little thing." Floyd kissed his praise against your neck, the last of his cum dripping from his cock before he pulled out. "Did you enjoy this little game?"

"Do you need to ask?" You stood up slowly, moving your clothes back into place as he did the same, taking notes of all the marks still visible. "But yes, I did."

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #twisted wonderland imagine #twisted wonderland fanf #twst imagines #twst fanfic #floyd leech imagine #floyd leech fanfic #twisted wonderland smut #twst smut #floyd leech smut #twisted wonderland x female reader #twisted wonderland x you #twst x female reader #twst x you #twisted wonderland #twst #floyd leech #twst floyd #floyd x reader #floyd smut #x female reader

[sleepinthrumyalarms]

— a study in demon

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!oni!reader

warnings: smut, lesbian sex, a/b/o dynamics in werewolves and demons, penetration, G!P!reader, it's demon girlcock OKAY, cockwarming, breeding kink, size kink, knotting, all characters are aged-up

summary: an unfortunate turn of events leaves wednesday with a very frustrated, very needy oni demon on her hands. what kind of girlfriend would she be if she didn't take care of her beloved?

word count: 4.5k

a/n: jesus christ, look at those warnings. this fic is a whole declaration of war. i went feral. i have nothing to say for myself. hope you enjoy

The first thing you feel when the annoying buzzing of the alarm pulls you out of your peaceful slumber is the immense heat of your body and the ache somewhere in your lower belly. A groan leaves your throat before you can even blink your eyes fully open, and you blindly reach for your phone to turn the screaming noise off.

You sit up on your bed and squint at the sunlight that streams through the tiny slit in the tightly shut curtains, opening a small calendar app that’s designed specifically for the creatures of your kind – and with a huff you realize your rut is coming in two days.

Damn it. You’ve completely forgotten about it. That certainly explains the aggressiveness and mood swings you’ve been having for the past week.

You open a new text message, sent from your girlfriend at 5:30 AM – not exactly an early riser, but definitely the type to pull an all-nighter on a school night – wishing you the most dreadful morning. You smile to yourself, and the smallest thought of her seems to be enough to motivate you to get out of bed and start the day despite the uncomfortable feeling stirring in your belly.

Thank all the gods almighty – Larissa Weems, especially – that it is still a non-uniform week at the Academy. Sitting in class with that tie wrapped around your throat like a noose would’ve killed you.

You rummage through your wardrobe, pulling out a tee and a pair of jeans, changing hastily, before your gaze falls on a particular item of clothing that definitely doesn’t belong in your closet.

It’s a black baggy zip hoodie, the one Wednesday constantly wears when out of class. It’s a surprise she has forgotten it at your place – your best guess is she must’ve left in one of your sweatshirts instead.

The fabric feels smooth in your grasp. Warm fleece lining. A bit abrasive on the outside.

Just like her.

You lift the hoodie to your face, burying your nose in the softness and inhaling.

Smells just like her, too.

Without a second thought you put it over your frame – though a bit more of a tight fit, it’s still slightly baggy on your shoulders – and zip it up, pulling the hood over your head to take another small whiff of the familiar scent.

That should get you through the day, you think.

And it does. For the first half of it, at least.

You take an extra suppressant pill during lunch, but skip the meal, opting to spend the free time in the quad to ventilate your head.

It feels better. Much, much better. Even though you don’t get to see Wednesday at the canteen.

You’re back inside for your last period – maths, and your mind gets too busy with the complicated equations and formulas to worry about the hormones running wild in your body.

You’re half-way through a very fucked-up problem with roots and sines before a strong aroma suddenly fills up your lungs – an omega’s pheromones, you realize, wide-eyed.

An omega who is in heat.

You lift your head up, giving the students around you a quick once-over – and your gaze meets a pair of golden orbs, a pretty girl with pink plump lips and fiery-red hair tied into a pony tail watches you with interest, her chin propped on her palm. As soon as you make eye-contact, she gives you a smile, revealing a small, adorable gap in the front row of her teeth.

You shake your head and smile back politely before turning back to your paper, but the rest of the class feels like you’re trapped in a suffocating cage of hot arousal that smells of yellow fruit and washed laundry.

As soon as the bell dismisses the students, you hastily pack your bag and bolt out of the door, desperate to lock yourself in your dorm room and just take care of this stupid predicament you’ve found yourself in. You’ve never been more grateful for the lack of a roommate.

“Hey, (Y/n).”

You stop and turn at the sound of your name being called, although the voice is quite unfamiliar – too melodic and gentle to be anyone you know.

“Hey, uh...”

It’s the redhead from maths. She watches you expectantly for a few moments before her face falls slightly, “It’s Dina! I was with the Black Cats last year. We met at the after party? The one Yoko hosted?” She sounds almost offended at the fact that you don’t remember her.

“Oh. Oh, right. Dina. Sorry. I’m really bad with names.” You smile apologetically.

“It’s fine. I’d be surprised if you remembered me, actually. This academy holds way too many ginger werewolves,” Dina chuckles, and falls in step with you to continue walking down the hall. “So, you up to anything right now?”

“No, not really. Just hoping to get back to the dorms and sleep my awful headache off. Been bugging me all day.”

It’s only a half-lie – your temples are still throbbing like crazy, and the pheromones you’ve smelled in class did nothing to help your case.

The werewolf tilts her head, pursing her plump lips, “Hmm... That’s too bad, because, actually...”

The smaller girl suddenly grabs your hips and pushes you – unprepared, you stumble to the side and right through the door of some random classroom. Barely able to catch your balance at Dina’s abrupt movement, your hands grasp at her forearms, desperately trying to steady the rest of your body.

“I was thinking I could help you relieve that pain of yours.”

She looks up at you, tilts her chin up slightly. The smell of citron and fresh linen suddenly fills your nose.

The same one you’ve felt in class.

The omega in heat.

Fuck.

The werewolf in front of you settles with pumping her pheromones at you wildly, her palms flitting from your hips down to your thighs, slowly closing in on your center – you do nothing to stop her, your own hands reaching behind you to grip the edge of the desk. Her eyes are glinting red now, slitted pupils never breaking eye contact with yours.

She presses her nose against your scent gland, and you feel her grin against your neck.

“I don’t smell an omega on you...” Shit. Of course Wednesday’s hoodie doesn’t smell like anything but her usual dark resins and woods scent. As much as it is alluring and recognizable to you, it’s not pheromones. “You haven’t mated with one yet? That’s just criminal... An alpha like you should spend all her ruts with a pretty omega impaled on her cock.”

You take a sharp inhale through your nose, feeling yourself throb treacherously at her words. Dina giggles softly, pressing her lips to your jaw, her mouth now inches away from yours.

“You know…” she starts sultry, voice heavy with unadulterated lust in a way that only an omega’s can sound to the ears of a rutting alpha, “I’ve never taken an oni’s knot before…”

You feel the werewolf squeeze your thighs, bare her claws in a sharp movement, “I wonder what it feels like.”

Your head is heavy, cloudy – you’re practically unable to resist, tusked mouth hanging open with small puffs of vapors fluttering out. The urge to bend the small werewolf over the desk and pound her into the wood feels even harder to resist, too.

An unpleasant feeling rattles through your chest, unbearable and disgusting. An image of dark-brown eyes and soft lips painted burgundy flashes through your mind.

You feel like you’re going to puke.

“No,” you rasp, pushing the werewolf away. “Get off me.”

Before the startled girl can retort, you stumble out of the classroom and slam the door closed, turning the key that has been left in the keyhole by some clumsy substitute.

You stumble for a moment, lifting a clawed palm to grasp at your head that has suddenly turned cloudy and heavy, and make your way towards the ladies’ restroom.

She must’ve felt the rut closing on you, and her own heat triggered it prematurely.

With shaky hands you pull out your phone, opening the messages app and texting the first person that comes to your clouded mind.

enid

bro you gotta ditch

it’s an emergency

i just stumbled into a girl

uhh dina?

she’s from ophelia hall

anyways i think she needs… help

yk

from a fellow omega wolf

i think she hasn’t been taking her suppressants

for some fucking reason

and yk it’s not like me to live a lady in distress

but i really had to dip

i was doing her a favor by dipping actually

i locked her up on the 2nd floor

202

i really had to leave

Pressing your back against one of the bathroom stalls, you wait anxiously as three gray dots dance on the screen.

The device dingles in your hands.

oooohh

its okay

i gotchu

u should totes find weds tho

im sure she can help u out ;))

You hide your phone in your pocket and open the tap to splash your face with cold water. It eases the flush of your face, but doesn’t calm the raging beast inside.

Your fingers grasp onto the edges of the sink tightly, almost making the marble crack.

As you walk through the corridors and up the stairs of Ophelia Hall, the only thought that occupies your mind is Wednesday. Wednesday and her dark eyes and her lips and her touch and the beautiful curve of her slender hips and everything that is your mate.

You don’t bother knocking, urgently swinging the door open.

And there it is. Your (f/c) sweater, no doubt one of her monochrome striped shirts under it.

Your palms are sweating. Claws digging into your pant legs, tusks into your lip.

The small ravenette turns in her seat to look at you, her fingers stilling over the keys of her typewriter.

Her braided hair looks pristine and untouched, her posture unmatched, the image perfect even when out of public sight.

“Ma bête,” she addresses softly, brows slightly raised in question. “You’re back. And you look… a trifle uncomfortable.”

Does she not know? There’s no way she doesn’t. Such details could never slip Wednesday’s unhealthily constantly alerted mind.

“Is something wrong?”

Fuck. Of course. There it is, that cruel glint in her eyes. You should’ve known.

She wants you to say it.

You shift on your feet. The temperature is becoming almost unbearable.

“I’m…”

Wednesday watches you, tilts her head just a tiny bit forward — dark, haunted eyes deadpan, staring you down, her jaw tightening slightly and relaxing in a way that is barely noticeable but has your gaze flicking down to the enticing slant of her neck.

“I’m… in a rut.” You admit, finally.

Wednesday’s eyes widen slightly — her posture straightens even more, the glint in her eyes turning dangerous, “Oh.” Yes, oh, as if she wasn’t aware. “Why are the suppressants not working?”

Should you admit that the small encounter with the horny omega has sent your hormones spiraling?

Wednesday is by no means a normal human, yet her nose lacks the capability of sensing alpha pheromones. Nevertheless, she can read you like a book, and she probably was aware of your coming rut long before you were. She simply likes abusing the knowledge.

“It must be bad then, if it has you reduced to such a pathetic state,” the goth tuts, drumming her fingers against her desk. “Pure torture, isn’t it, bête? I wish I could help you…”

Wednesday turns back to her paper, shrugging noncommittally, “Unfortunately, it is my writing hour, and you know how much I would detest an intervention in my schedule.”

You whine as the drumming of her keys resumes – like a kicked puppy, you turn to reach for the doorknob, prepared to return back to the restroom and take care of yourself to the thought of your ever-so beautiful and unyielding girlfriend.

Wednesday’s fingers still on the typewriter.

“But I suppose… We can reach a consensus.”

The legs of her chair scrape against the hardwood floor, and you turn to find Wednesday standing next to the desk, palm resting on the back of the seat invitingly.

“Come here.”

You’re beside Wednesday before the whole command can escape her mouth, and she gives a small, amused huff that almost has you howling and gnawing at furniture, then gestures at the chair, “Sit. Unbutton your pants, underwear off.”

You reach to do as told, pulling at a pant-leg to finally discard the constricting garment before the ravenette slaps your hand, “Just the button and the zipper, (Y/n). Do not make me repeat myself.”

You gulp and take a seat at her desk, tugging the elastic of your boxers down to free the hard shaft.

The dark, intense gaze Wednesday is watching you with makes you blush and throb, excitement and arousal mixing with the slightest of embarrassments only her presence can induce.

“Good girl,” she hums, circling the chair like a hunting lioness. “I will allow you to be inside me, just this once. I will not allow you to touch me in any other way. If I feel any movement, internal or external, you will be punished. And by no means are you allowed to cum. Not without my permission. Are the instructions clear, beast? Nod your empty little head if affirmative.”

You nod with a small whimper at the derogatory words, though they do nothing to soothe the aching hardness between your legs.

“Good, good. Well, since the terms are settled, I shall get started.”

Before you can respond, Wednesday steps closer to the desk, slightly flipping her skirt with a quick movement of her hand and letting you catch the smallest of glimpses of her pretty pussy – the show is over before you can marvel though, and the seer sits on your lap, your length pressing against her lower back.

Like this, with no distance left between you, her scent is encompassing your whole being. No pheromones can compare to the way Wednesday smells, the rich, woodsy notes of a forest soaked in rainwater luring you in as you take a small inhale.

You bite back a growl, but a small noise of frustration still manages to reach the ravenette’s sharp hearing.

“Quiet, beast.” She scolds, her tone of voice far from playful, and reaches to straighten her skirt carefully, flicking the non-existing dust off the garment in a graceful movement of her palm.

Then, before you can downright keen with impatience, the same hand moves behind to wrap around your hard member, giving it a squeeze so light it is almost torturous –  Wednesday lifts her hips and presses the head against the warmth of her entrance.

That first contact feels like electricity and fire in your belly, worsened when you feel your cock split her lips open, stretching her taut around it, and the smallest worry that you might just not fit passes through your rut-clouded mind.

Then again, Wednesday might not even be merciful enough to sheathe you fully inside her, but the thought of being too big to be properly seated in her cunt is tantalizing and excruciating at the same time.

A small, relieved sigh escapes Wednesday’s lips –  the sensation of being filled up with you is like no other, and she can’t help but relish in it despite her aggravation. She takes her time, feeling every inch push deeper inside her and stretch her out, the thick shaft splitting her open, then her thighs press into yours and she stills completely.

If she had to, the goth would put all the time and work in to stretch herself out with your girth, to take all of you inside her like she was molded just for that single purpose. It’s not like Wednesday has something to prove to anyone – or maybe she has, to you, that no one else at Nevermore could take you so well and make all your resolve, might and dominance provided to you by nature, or by gods, or by whatever entity has created such a delectable beast as you crumble under her and make it natural for you to submit to the seer.

And oh does submissiveness look good on you, too – or at least it sounds good, if your heavy breathing mixed with quiet whines hitting her ear is anything to go by.

Wednesday is reminded of her goal suddenly when she feels your hips buck instinctually into her, and the ravenette has to hold back a sound of pleasure at the movement, because she can’t fight how incredible the pressure feels, making her velvet walls flutter. She’s still holding the reins when she tightens her pussy around your throbbing dick purposefully, a trace of a small smirk on her plush burgundy lips at the needy and wanton groan that escapes your mouth.

That was a good enough treat, she thinks. Now to the sticks.

Wednesday kicks you in the shin with the side of her loafer, pulling you out of your pleasure-induced trance and making you flinch.

“Move closer to the desk, beast. I need to be able to reach the keys in order to type.”

You grunt, shuffling the chair closer with your weight, nudging Wednesday’s body forward, and the slightest shift makes you hiss — she slides a few inches up your shaft before she’s at the base again, seated nice and snug, her thighs resting on yours. Your hands fall to grapple at them, and you receive another painful kick.

“No. Hands off. If you are unable to control yourself, I will shun you out.” Wednesday scolds, though has to hide the effect the feeling of your claws curling around her have, and fails. Her voice sounds more breathless than she has intended.

She has a hard time admitting to herself how torturous this is for her, too. The seer sneaks a glance down to where the thick shaft splits her open, so tight she can practically feel it throbbing against her clit. A small bead of precum runs down, skirting one of the throbbing veins.

Wednesday’s restraint is laudable.

“Messy creature,” she murmurs, her tone surprisingly soft, before the paper in front of her takes over her attention again. Straightening her back, the ravenette goes back to her writing as if she’s not full of demon cock right now.

You try to focus on the rapid clatter of the keys, on the way Wednesday’s elegant fingers dance over the typewriter, maybe try and catch a glance of the words the girl is printing on the paper. Anything to pull your mind away from the tight warmth hugging your aching cock, from weight of the small body pressed against you.

The demon inside of you is raging, howling, salivating between huge tusks. The monster is not as prejudiced as the fellow oni of your clan are – it doesn’t care if it’s another demon or a human you’re nestled inside. It demands the frail body pressed against your own is filled up and bred, demands the goth takes all of you, stretching around your swollen knot before it's barely able to slip inside.

Not just any body. Or some omega. Wednesday. Wednesday who isn’t even a part of that animalistic system, but the beast begs for more, wants all of her more, more with each passing second.

A growl mixed with a whimper escapes your mouth – you have no idea what to do with your hands, so you press them into the edge of the table on either side of Wednesday’s typewriter, claws digging into the dark wood. The involuntarily display of strength has the small female tightening around you with a gentle hitch of her breath, making you groan.

“Wednesday,” you rasp through clenched teeth. “I can’t. Please. I’m losing control.”

“O-oh, are you?” The goth inquires mockingly, hoping you don’t take notice of her slight stutter.

“Mhm,” you nod dumbly. “Wanna take you so bad. Wanna fuck you full of me.”

Wednesday can’t fight the way her pussy constricts around you again, though the determination not to lose control remains, strong as ever. She abandons the keys to reach a hand into your hair, grabbing a fistful of (h/c) locks to pull and make you meet her gaze, “Whose is it, (Y/n)?”

You furrow your brows in confusion, making Wednesday’s frown deepen – a hint for the right answer comes in the form of the seer’s hips lifting and rocking back down, the friction making you hiss.

“Answer me.”

“Yours.” You swallow. “Yours, Wednesday. Every- every inch is.”

“Good. Good girl.” She coos, easing her hold on you to rake her short nails down the back of your neck, making goosebumps litter your body. “Bed, beast. Now.”

A low growl rumbling in your chest and vibrating against her back is the only warning Wednesday gets before she’s lifted into the air sharply.

In a rough, barely controlled movement you stand up so fast you topple the chair over, flipping the girl with ease and walking a couple of steps to press her against the bed, the ravenette’s cunt still snug around your shaft. A clawed hand reaches for a pillow hastily to cushion Wednesday’s head, the last resemblance of caring gentleness in your actions before you pull out to the tip and buck back inside.

Wednesday’s head snaps back, mouth falling open in pleasure as you pin her down into the mattress, fucking hard into the welcoming, tight warmth of her pussy. Despite the dynamics of oni demons still being fairly alien to Wednesday – not as alien apparently, as she knows the frequency and signs of your rut better than you do and isn’t opposed to using it against you – she now seems to understand the appeal of being absolutely destroyed by an alpha that omegas in heat are so partial to.

As delectable as the thought is, it rekindles the spark of possessiveness that she thought has almost been extinguished. The goth wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling your bodies flush together.

Hers. No one else’s.

Not some other depraved omega girl’s so desperate to get a taste of you.

“You foolish brute.” She pants as if it’s your fault you seem to be irresistible to other women, voice trembling slightly, her breath completely pushed out of her lungs with each of your thrusts. “You better make good on your promise and breed me like a good alpha should.”

The monster inside you roars at the proposition that is so obviously supposed to be taunting. Your palms slide down the girl’s waist, thumbs brushing against the protruding hipbones to dip into the supple flesh sitting low under her navel, holding her tightly, almost hard enough to bruise and match the brutal pace of your hips rutting into Wednesday, your cock splitting her open deliciously in a toe-curling sensation that has Wednesday’s head falling back against the dark pillows.

The sight under you has you growling savagely – your tongue lolls out to lick a thick stripe up the exposed skin of the ravenette’s neck before you bite down, huge tusks clasping around her throat and keeping Wednesday in place completely, her pulse wild against the rough surface of your muscle. Her pussy constricts around your cock, clamping down hard in an attempt to keep the thick shaft buried to the hilt every time you pull out and quivering when you slam back inside and fill her up enough for the tip to kiss the entrance of her womb, never letting the small female catch her breath.

The lustful fog of ardent fervor clouding Wednesday’s brain doesn’t numb her to the sensation of a swelling at the base of your shaft nudging against her opening every time your hips meet hers. It threatens to push in, catches deliciously on Wednesday’s clit with each thrust and she can feel herself getting painfully close.

But she will not. For the sake of the one thing she wants more than anything else, the goth will deprive herself.

“Knot me.” She rasps into your ear, her feet pushing into your lower back to urge you deeper inside. “Mia bestia, mia alfa. Dentro. Ven dentro di mi.”

You’d have no clue what she has just said on a normal day, and you have zero idea right now, buried eight inches deep inside of her, but the breathless, desperate pants of Italian have you turning feral. In one last brutal thrust the knot slips past Wednesday’s tight lips and inside, stretching and filling her so thoroughly and impossibly delicious it has her eyes rolling into the back of her head. A spill of wetness from her own release rushing forth as she clamps down on your cock lubes her aching walls, helping the bulging slide in firmly.

Your lips gravitate to hers, pulled to her like a magnet, and you growl into her mouth as your cum spills hotly, taking up any remaining space inside the small female and her walls ripple, begging for more. Wednesday's arms tighten around your shoulders and legs squeeze around your hips to keep you close.

You throb with sated completion, press lazy kisses to the seer’s brow and flushed cheeks, and watch as her eyes flutter open to meet yours, her chest heavy with steamy breaths.

“Too hot, huh?” You ask, jaw slack slightly.

Wednesday gives a weak nod, and you reach to tug the sweater off her shoulders, then unzip her skirt to slip it down her pale legs, leaving the girl in just her striped shirt. The newly exposed skin provides better contact for you to revel in – you purr in satisfaction and move to join the seer on the bed, careful not to crush her, and maneuver her small body in your palms to pull her on top of you.

Wednesday huffs but doesn’t resist, nudging at your neck with her nose and pressing a soft kiss to your jugular in an uncharacteristic display of affection.

“How did you find out?” You murmur, lifting your hands to start undoing one of the ravenette’s loosened braids leisurely.

“I have my ways.”

You hum at the vague reply, now certain that the disembodied hand following you around the whole day wasn’t just your imagination playing tricks, “I hope you know I had no intention to lie to you or anything. You just- you didn’t exactly give me a chance to speak.”

“Your explanation wasn’t necessary. I’m well aware of what happened.” The movement of the seer’s plush lips tickles your skin pleasantly, her voice now void of its previous detachment.

You smile softly, finished with unbraiding her hair, your fingers threading through the silky raven locks, careful not to give an accidental tug. Wednesday closes her eyes at your touch, and the tranquility of the moment has you feeling like a cat basking in warm sunlight, despite the object of your passions being a complete opposite to it.

“I’ll have to consult Enid on the topic of which herbs are the deadliest to werewolves.”

“Wednesday.”

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x reader smut #wednesday addams smut #wednesday x reader #wednesday x reader smut #wednesday smut #wednesday imagine #wednesday x female reader #wednesday #wednesday addams #wlw smut

[hearts4chriss]

Princess.

bad boy! Chris x nerd! Poc reader

prompt: Chris notices you, just a regular girl, pretty nerd, focused on her studies and nothing else, Chris has this attraction to you, his goal is to get ur attention and absolutely destroy you and ur innocence all together, a school project just might be his trick

inspired by: @luv4kozume my mama and talented queen go read her shit now

Part 7

warnings: reader is on BC!! overstimulation, rough sex ( p in v ), degrading, hair pulling, use of pet names ( good girl, sweetheart, baby ), ass slapping, teasing, manipulation ??, aftercare tho!!

“Fucking hell” I say to myself, I had a project with the nerd. Now ur probably like “Chris she’s just a nerd come on” She’s not ur regular nerd, she’s just innocent as shit, never had sex, never received head or pleasure from anyone focussed on her studies but I’ve heard her talk to her friends, she’s got a dirty mouth one i'd love to put to good use.

the second we got assigned partners for a chemistry project a smirk curved across my lips. I see her turn back to me and give me an innocent welcoming smile. fuck that was enough to make cum in my pants. the way her clear glasses sit on her cute little nose, her plump lips with a layer of gloss on them. and damn that uniform on her.

the way her skirt rides up when she sits down allowing me to get a good look at her ass, I see her light purple panties from here just a bit. Nobody else was looking at her, more focused on the basic ass bitches whose asses were purposely exposed. whores.

Fuck I couldn't take my eyes off her, the way she pulled her skirt down in the back, she could bare the fact the school's skirts were so short her ass was poking out. Her stockings climb up her thighs and her dress shoes dangle off her feet, the blazer fits perfectly around her skirt, and the white button-up shirt school rules top two buttons for all girls must be undone, Fuck- her tits sat so perfectly in it,

And then shit don't get me started on the tie. I've always pictured me putting mine around her pulling it as I fucked her. She was so damn innocent, the way she'd look back every now and then to see me because we were partners and give me that same smile innocent smile, as I was thinking about ruining her pussy. The only thing stopping me was the fact we were in class, but shit- I swear when I have her alone I was gonna fuck her so good, ruin her innocence entirely.

Eventually class was over and so was school, which meant It was about to just us.

Your Pov now

I got up from my seat and made my way out of class to wait for chris, I readjust my glasses and apply some more lip gloss.

The boy walks out and I give him a small smile and he gives me a smirk looking down at me and biting his lip, I just shrug it off and he opens his car door for me and we start driving back to his house

"Are you excited about our project Chris?" I asked him softly trying to kill the silence

Fuck her voice, it was so soft and sweet. just imaging her moaning was even better, I let out a soft groan feeling my dick press against my pants before I respond to her.

“Oh yeah for sure I cant wait.” to fuck ur brains out till you can't take it anymore.

We arrived at his house and we walked inside and his parents weren't home so he offered to work in his room and I nodded and we walked. upstairs into it and sat on his bed.

I smiled and took my computer out and laid on my stomach and began to start a slide show.

Fuck- does she know what she's doing? I felt my dick get even harder a small wet spot appearing on my pants.

I sat and watched this hot nerd on my bed and realized.

We were not gonna get anything done tonight.

I began to un do my belt and slip my pants and boxers down, I tossed my blazer on the floor and my shirt and tie approaching her.

I slowly lifted up her skirt and pull her light purple panties down staring at her bare ass, she had no idea. Fuck the surprise she was in for.

I press my dick against her sliding into her as she let out a moan fuck she was so tight.

“Chris- wh- o-oh god”- she moaned, it rang in my ears.

“is this okay?” I asked, I wanted to make sure she was okay with what I was about to do to her.

“mmph- y-yes- she stutters” I could hear her struggling it was pretty cute.

I took her skirt off and blazer allowing me to grip her hips and thrust in her quickly, her moans growing louder as I moved her computer to my nightstand.

“Ur pussy's so tight baby fuck-“ I groan as her wetness coated my dick allowing me to start pounding into her, her moans got louder as she moans my name and fuck did it turn me.

“Fuck c'mere-“I say impatiently arching her back and pushing her face into the pillow before pounding into her again.

“C-chris o-oh god-“ she cries out gripping my sheets as I saw her glasses fogging up from her heavy breathing, I knew this was probably a lot for her but I was dying to fuck her.

My hips snapping with hers sounded euphoric as she cried out my name, I did what she least expected.

I pulled her hair and thrusted into her harshly my hips snapped harshly on her ass and she squealed at the sudden roughness.

“Oh God- I-chris-“ She cries out and I decide to opt for slower and deep thrusts knocking the wind out of her lunges.

“Not so innocent now are you sweetheart.” I said with a smirk getting impatient at the pace so I shoved her face into the pillow starting to pound in her again the moans and heavy breathing of this innocent girl grew louder again.

“Shit shit shit-“ curses leave her mouth and I chuckle darkly

“hm, you've got a dirty mouth, don't you?” I whisper into her ear and she moans in response, she sounds so beautiful like this.

she fits so snug around me. I felt her squeeze tightly around my dick and I groan in response at how quickly I was about to make her cum and me as well as I twitch inside her.

“You on the pill baby?” I asked her and she nodded and I pull her hair roughly

“Use ur words princess.” I say still pounding into her.

“I-I-am- f-fuck-“ she stutters out and moans my lips curling into a playful smile.

“Good girl, you can cum now.l I say as I harshly snap my hips feeling her cum on my cock and I release inside of her.

I pulled out watching our cum drip out of her pussy thats when I realized, I was nowhere near finished with her.

“On ur stomach for me?” i asked her and she immediately complied.

I unbottoned her shirt leaving her tie on seeing her fully naked wearing just a tie makes my dick perk up again.

I slap my tip on her folds and she whimpered.

I spread her legs pushing them against her chest and slip inside her easily and she cries out at me pounding into her with force rocking her small body on the bed.

watched her stomach seeing my bulge and I chuckled seeing her eyes squeeze shut and her glasses start slipping from her face.

“Ugh F-fuck- my glasses-“ she cries out as they started falling off onto her body from how hard I was fucking her.

“fuck- push em up for me yeah?” I sighed deeply and she reached a shaken hand pushing the frames back on her face.

She looks so hot like this, all fucked out on my bed for me and she has no idea this was only the beginning

“C-Chris ngh- I-c-can’t-“ she stutters as I watch the tears form in her eyes from the overwhelming pleasure I was giving her, the way her tits were pressed up against her body as I held her legs up easily slipping in and out of her wet pussy.

“come on baby, your taking me so well- shit-“ I grunted angling my hips to come in contact with hers more quickly and harshly and hearing her whimpers was so fucking hot.

I attach my thumb to her clit rubbing it in circles and she squealed at the sudden contact from her sensitivity.

“Shit Chris- I-t-the project!” She screams out my name and I smirk at her innocence, I had never thought about the damn project.

“oh princess you really think that’s what I care about?” I say snapping my hips with hers once more pounding her pretty pussy and she curses my name.

“I’ve only been thinking about fucking that pretty ass of yours for days, shit you and that skirt-“ I chuckle drawing figure 8s on her swollen clit and her thighs tremble in my hands.

“Fuck- mphm oh g-god-“ she cries out, her body trembling in my hands her body covered in a thin layer of sweat, her cute classes now discarded.

“Hm? What was that sweetheart?” I smirk pulling her tie making her gulp and her eyes widen as I pull it and thrust into her roughly, the sounds of my hips and her thighs slapping fuck- I could’ve cum right there.

“CHRIS- p-please-“ she stutters gripping the sheets and my finger tips needing her plush thighs as she begs for an orgasm.

“You need to cum?” I say leaning over in her ear.

“Y-yes god-“ she whimpers arching her back.

I decided I would let her cum under one condition.

“princess I’m the only one who’s aloud to fuck you from now on got it?” I say placing my tongue around her nipple sucking softly and she groans.

“Y-yes I-i got it-“ she cries out and I rocked her body harder rubbing her clit and she tightens around me before beginning to squirt, she didn’t stop.

“Fuck you just squirted all over me-“ I chuckle slowing my thrusts.

“Mmph- I’m sorry- I-“ she stutters and I shake my head and chuckle.

“It’s okay honey I’ll take care of you”. I smile and pull out of her smirking seeing proudly at the mess I made of this girl, her thighs shake a bit, our cum dripping out of her and the wet patch on my sheets from her squirting just now. Her face a little teary and fuck she looked so hot all fucked out for me.

I picked up her body and ran her a bath and sat her on the counter for a second

“Spread ur legs for me mama.” I ask her calmly and she does so and I take a warm cloth and rub slowly between her legs and she winces.

“S-sensitive”- she whimpers and I stop and place her in the warm water

“Sorry.” I smile putting her braids in a bun and she sighs in the water.

“thank you for taking care me-“ she sighs smiling at me innocently.

the rest of the night consists of me making sure she was okay

Oh and the project? She, yes ms nerdy herself, asked for an extension

tag list !

@mattsleftnipple03 @bernardsleftbootycheek @sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @alexoslurr @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chris

@nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @mattsnymphette @hoesformatt @luv4kozume @iiheartstef @kikisturnioloo @itzdarling @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @junnniiieee07 @st7rnioioss

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #smut #nicolas sturniolo #christurniolo #chris smut #hearts4chriss

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Am I Acting Weird?

Walking home, I just can't shake the feeling that something is off, but I can't figure out what! I asked Coach about it before leaving practice, but he just laughed. He said I was weird not to appreciate the effort I've put into football lately.

He's right. I've been busting my ass, but that's exactly what I'm talking about!

I've never given a damn about improving my rank or even showing up to conditioning! I just wanted to hang out with my buds and mess around with the cheerleaders.

But now, it's like none of that matters! I've skipped the last three parties to bulk up at the gym! I haven't been able to drink anything other than protein shakes, and my meals are always loaded with meat. It's like I can't control myself anymore! Why can't I just take a night off and drink beers with the rest of the boys?

I let out a long groan of frustration and trudge upstairs. My younger sibling Max laying on the couch while the TV blares his favorite show.

Max is the weird one! He's like 18, and all he does is play videogames and sit around all day.

I quickly strip off my sweaty football uniform and toss it into the corner of my bedroom. My muscles are already tired and aching from yesterday's practice, so I can't imagine how sore I'll be feeling when I wake up for tomorrow's early morning workout; something I only recently started doing everyday.

Like every other night, I pull my usual at-home clothes on; a stiff white shirt, black apron, and bowtie. This outfit might seem weird, but it feels nice, especially when I tie everything up extra tight. Max showed me how. Sure, it's not comfortable at all, and I look like a waiter more than anything, but that doesn't bother me.

My little brother is annoying as hell, but he's usually right. Me and dad used to tease him all the time, but we've come around since then.

Now that I'm finally at home and suited up, I can feel my shoulders relax. Whatever was bothering me before can wait. I pull some shiny black shoes on, slip a pair of white gloves over my hands, and carefully step back downstairs. It's important that I make as little noise as possible when I'm home. I wouldn't want to disturb anybody.

"Hey, big bro," Max calls from the couch, "Your home."

"Yes, Max," I answer, taking my usual position next to the couch.

This is where I stand when I'm in the living room anymore. It's just where I feel most comfortable, and it's right next to a little cart of useful supplies. I grab a towel and sling it over my shoulder. It's always a good idea to have one on me when I'm at home. Never know when I'm going to need it.

"My shoes could use a polish while we chat," Max adds, flipping through the channels.

"You got it, Max."

See, the towel does come in handy. I quickly fetch a container of shoe polish on my little cart and kneel by his feet. I've been polishing Max's shoes for a few weeks now, so I've gotten pretty good at it. He doesn't really appreciate the art of it, but I guess it's just something that I'm into.

"How's football? You the best player yet?" Max asks nonchalantly from above.

"No, Max. I've gotten a lot bigger lately, but the quarterback is still a lot more muscular and skilled."

He rolls his eyes and adds, "Give it time I guess. You're going to keep at it until your a professional player like the ones on TV."

I stop buffing his sneaker for a second and glance up at him. His attention is now completely fixated on an NFL videogame.

"Max, that's just it," I admit, "Lately I've been working out and bulking up like I'm some pro-athlete, but I'm not. I don't think I even want to be! That life just seems so grueling."

Max pauses his game and looks down at me solemnly.

I avert my gaze and add, "It's just weird that lately I've put so much work into something I don't want."

"You think that's weird?" he dryly raises an eyebrow.

I just shake my head and turn my attention back to my brother's sneaker. It's going to need a lot more polish before it shines.

The door opens and our father arrives home.

"Hey, boy," he dismissively calls when he sees me on the floor. Then he notices my brother lounging on the couch.

"Max," he says with a bit more emphasis, dipping his head a little.

"Dad, I'm really hungry right now, so could you get a move on with dinner?" Max answers.

"Of course, Max."

Our father immediately drops his keys and briefcase and shuffles into the kitchen. I've always admired him. He played football in college too, so we've always bonded over sports.

But lately, he only seems interested in his work. I rarely see him because he always stays late and picks up night shifts at the office. It's done wonders for his career, so I guess that's good. He's been given a few raises recently for all the extra effort he's put in, but I can tell it's taking a bit of a toll on the guy.

"Big bro, just look at Dad," Max explains to me, "He doesn't complain about anything being weird, does he? He just keeps his mouth shut and goes to work. Be more like him."

I don't speak as I switch to shining his other sneaker. Max is probably right. If Dad can power through long hours in the office to bring home a decent salary, then I can surely shut up and dedicate myself to a career in football.

It doesn't take long for our father to return to the living room.

"The food is almost ready, but here are some drinks while you wait, Max," he says.

Our dad seems minorly annoyed by the starched clothing he has on, but that suit is his typical home outfit. It looks even more stiff and uncomfortable than my get up, but I guess he's willing to put up with it.

Max stands before I can finish at his feet and grabs a glass from our father.

"Whoops, here you can finish them," he says after a swig of wine, kicking the shoes off in my direction, "And then take care of the laundry in my room."

"Sure thing, Max," I answer, but he's already turned his attention to dad.

"Is your wallet in your briefcase?" he asks, "I'm taking a few friends out tonight."

"It is, Max, and the car keys are next to it. The car is low on gas. Should I take it to a station before you go out?"

"Yeah," Max adds between sips, "Take care of that while I eat."

"Of course, Max."

"Oh, and Dad."

"Yes, Max?"

"Start making double portions for big bro's meals. He needs to bulk up faster if he's going to usurp the current quarterback."

I pretend not to hear, and finish up my work with Max's shoes. Maybe my new focus on football hasn't been that strange after all. It's not really the life I thought I'd be pursuing, but it's kind of nice being bigger and more athletic than I used to be. It's not really weird if I think about it. Maybe I can even get a few more reps in after I finish Max's laundry.

I hope he has a good time out with his friends tonight. It's weird, but I don't really know what else I'd spend my time doing.

#gay hypnosis #mind control #hypno story #gay mind control #hypnotized #bow tie

[spicybunni]

❤️ASHLEY AS A HUSBAND❤️

Hello darlings!! These are a few headcanons of my yandere OC Ashley, the mob boss who can’t get enough of you. Hope you like him!

WARNINGS ⚠️: NSFW MENTIONS, SMUT, YANDERE TENDENCIES, FORCED MARRIAGE, VIOLENCE (not to reader), BLOOD MENTION

❤️Before we get into it, The marriage was not consensual by any means on your end. Ashley forced you saying it’s for your own good and that you and your family will be safe. Which sounded like a threat more than anything. You agreed to it only for the sake that he doesn’t harm your loved ones.

❤️He forced you because the word of his infatuation with you, a local waiter, got out to his rivals. He didn’t want to ruin your life with violence. So he decided to ruin it with a forced marriage.

❤️As a husband, Ashley was very traditional. He would come home after doing business. Sometimes with a little blood on his clothes or some skinned knuckles from throwing punches.

❤️Regardless of how he looked he would come to you before anything else and give you a kiss on the cheek. Ask you about your day and sit down in the living room.

❤️Your stomach would flip whenever he came near you with blood on his suit. Looking like a damn maniac with a smile on his face indifferent to whoever’s blood is splattered on him as he hugs you.

❤️He was more than happy to consummate the marriage after half a year living together. You hated him and everything he stood for, but your feelings, being cooped up in the mansion, and the way his stupid hair falls on his face as he looks at you- it all has gotten to you!

❤️Ashley couldn’t get enough after that. But his number one rule was to always have you come to him for it. Sometimes you would just awkwardly come into the living room, face flushed and lightly sweating as you avert your gaze. You’d place a hand on his shoulder as he sat in the armchair. He’d look up from either the paper or book he’s reading, smirk at your state, and take your hand upstairs.

❤️Ashley couldn’t care less about how adorably awkward you are downstairs when in the bedroom your ass bounces off his dick so divine.

❤️His plan was to tease you with how good it felt when you gave into your desires. Rubbing the head of his cock on your soaking entrance, holding your legs down in a press. Ashley’s erection would become painfully more hard when you let out whines and begs for him to get on with it.

❤️Least to say you were so cock drunk that you could care less in the moment if he came inside you.

❤️ This man is rough to say the least, but you love it. The way he holds your head down as your ass is in the air being pounded by him. His belt being used to tie your hands to the headboard of the bed while he does sinful things down below.

❤️DO NOT CATCH AN ATTITUDE WITH HIM❌ it will end in you drooling into the sheets as your body gets an pleasurable attitude adjustment.

“Sweetie, sweetie-Hey. Look at me while I make you a mess you hear me? That’s it. Atta darlin’…ah-fuck!”

❤️Even though he coats your insides to the brim with cum, he cleans you up nicely. He’ll grab a towel from the connected bathroom and wipe your sweat while you come down from your bliss.

❤️After two years being forcefully married, your life was actually simplified. No need to stress on bills, you actually had a chance at doing your little hobbies, and you can afford all the foods you’d like to cook. Ashley also would gift you clothes you liked instead of repurposing rags for your uniforms and pajamas. He would whistle when you’d walk out of the changing rooms in a new outfit. Making you do slow twirls for him.

❤️There were times where logic would come back into your mind to tell you this dynamic wasn’t right, you had to leave.

❤️But Ashley will never let that happen. His protocol if you were to ever try and escape is that all his men would be on the lookout for you, then have all his patrons in the district report to him if they spotted you.

❤️Ashley would never hurt you, but in a scenario where you tried to escape he would isolate you to a single bedroom for a month. It would take lots of time to earn his trust again after that.

❤️But that’s all hypotheticals for now….

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere mob boss #yandere smut

[onsunnyside]

.♡ ⃗ 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 (𝟏/𝟓)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | best friend!JJ Maybank x reader (College AU)

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, friends-to-lovers, college au, non-canon ages, ‘lessons in love & pleasure’ trope, kook!reader, size difference, shy!reader, inexperienced & virgin!reader, clumsy!reader, cute first kisses.

♫ ·ﾟ𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝗪/𝗖 | 3.97K

𝗔/𝗡 | and here we go !! this is my first obx series, so pls wish me luck, also note that this is a college au, meaning all characters are 21+. this will be angst-free, just a fluffy fic about two friends falling in love, starring a charming blond surfer. i'd love to hear your thoughts about this so far. as always, all mistakes are my own. ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

˗ˏˋ 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐎𝐁𝐗 (& 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬) 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The rays of the sun beam down, burning your heated face as you exit the building. Hurriedly stuffing your uniform in your bag, you rush down the stairs and toward the main campus. You weave between students, nearly tripping while anxiously checking the time on your phone. 

A few minutes late wasn’t that bad. You didn’t expect your professor to take the entire period given that it was the last day before spring break. It would’ve been more bearable if you had any friends in that class, but none of them showed. Perhaps you should’ve done the same and got a headstart on break too, or at least a full eight hours of sleep for the first time in months. 

Approaching the common area, the familiar sound of the fountain meets your ears amongst the chatter and laughter from your peers. 

Your eyes fall on a familiar blond, a toothpick between his teeth as he mindlessly scrolls through his cell phone. He stands out amongst the sea of plaid skirts, ties and blazers, wearing a backwards cap, cargo shorts and a tank top, his toned arms as sunkissed as ever. You call his name and break into a skip.

“If it isn’t the smartest gal I know…” You melt in his hold, that signature coastal citrusy scent washing over you like waves on a shore. After one final squeeze, he pulls away, his blue eyes flickering down to your feet. “And she still doesn’t remember to tie her damn shoes.”

“I was already running late, I couldn’t stop!” 

He rolls his eyes and drops to one knee, bringing your foot to the other, “yeah, and what would’ve happened if you tripped? Or got stuck in an escalator? Or tangled in some wild vines?” He asks, quickly tying both your laces. 

“Too late for one of those…” You pull up the hem of your dress, exposing the mismatched bandaids on both your knees. 

“Did you try to walk and chew gum at the same time?”

You huff, “actually, I got it while golfing. The tall grass is really misleading.” 

Your mother had scolded you for the grass stains on your new shoes, yet another pair just victim to your clumsiness, much like everything else you own. 

As expected, JJ’s mood sours at the mention of Figure 8. Years after that kegger incident, JJ was still very bitter towards anything Kook-related. He didn’t want to hear about Rafe and his crew and almost turned red at the mere mention of their names. He tolerated you, Sarah and Kie talking about Midsummers, and was absolutely zero help when you were discussing dresses and crowns. 

“Who was there?”

“Just my dad, Sarah and Mr. Cameron.” 

JJ hums, peering up at you through his lashes. “Anyone else?”

You cross your arms, “Rafe never comes if that’s what you’re asking. He’s too busy working for his dad, and is probably halfway across the world, sipping on Dom Pérignon by the beach.” 

“Yeah, I guess it’s not like he asked you to join him… again.”

A loud sigh falls from your lips, “That was one time! And he didn’t even ask, Mr. Cameron wanted me to check on him and make sure he wasn’t blowing profits on new bikes or drugs.” 

JJ drops it after that, he could say anything he wanted but that wouldn’t impact your relationship with the Camerons. Since your parents owned and operated the Island Club, and rich people liked other rich people. 

Your entire childhood was spent on Figure 8 alongside Sarah and the rest of the Kooks. You were grateful to live so comfortably, never having to worry about bills or losing electricity for days on end, but you’ve always envied the Pogues. Their freedom and exciting adventures were so different from the lonely box you were born in. 

With years of friendship between you and the rest of the Pogues, your mother still referred to them as ‘those kids from The Cut.’ 

Your father, on the other hand, had a soft spot for them—especially JJ because of their shared love for cars and motorbikes. There have been a few times that you’ve caught them messing around in the garage after JJ left for more snacks and drinks, practically abandoning you all by the pool for some grease and engines. 

Although he liked the blond boy, you know your father would disapprove of the many nights he’s sneaked through your window for a little sleepover. You were used to it now, sharing a bed with your best friend was a regular occurrence. It was platonic, even when you’d wake up in each other’s arms, tucked close. 

JJ’s morning voice never failed to make you all fuzzy inside. 

“Hello? Are you gonna get on or does the princess need help?” 

Ignoring his remark, you quickly straddle his bike and wince at the dull pain in your thigh, “I also got a nasty bruise that day—note to self, never try to retrieve golf balls from deceitful tall grass again.” 

He chuckles and twists around, “poor baby, want me to kiss it better?” 

As if the sun had solely focused on you, your whole body heats up, a warmth fluttering in your belly as your mind searches for a response. 

“I-I, uhm…oh, I—”

JJ laughs loud with a dimpled grin, “Why don’t you think about it and tell me later? We’re already running late and you know how Pope is with that.”

The Wreck is busy this time of day, every seat filled with college students and Tourons as waiters zoom from table to table. The delicious smell of seafood clouds the air and loud conversations drown out the radio. Sunshine pours from the windows, bathing the nautical decorations in an orange glow. Fishnets, brass ship wheels, and various hand-painted signs hang on the walls, strung up alongside fairy lights and ceiling fans. 

You and JJ beeline for your designated spot, the booth all the way in the corner of the restaurant. As suspected, everyone is already there apart from Kie, you side in next to Pope and exchange gleeful greetings. 

“And she lives! After that tumble at the golf course, I’m surprised you don’t have a cast or something.” Sarah snorts, the memory of you literally disappearing in the grass replaying in her head. “How’d your mom take it?”

You pout, “She was more concerned with my dirty clothes than my injuries,” and your bruised ego, “can you believe it?” 

You’re met with mumbles of ‘yes’ and ‘of course,’ everyone awfully aware of your mother’s obsession with the picture-perfect image. If she had it her way, she would dress you every day to show off that Kook status, she’d put you in pastel prints, ironed polos, and hand-shined shoes. A part of you knows that the only thing stopping her from dressing you like a doll was your clumsiness, a saving grace disguised as aches and bandaids. 

Her overbearing nature was also to blame for your timid heart, sometimes you were too scared to do any wrong that you wouldn’t do anything at all. Looming fear kept you in that box of solitude, unfulfilled expectations and thrills made you shrink away. As a child, you never had the confidence to speak up and often went with whatever your mother said, but that was until you met the Pogues. They helped you get out of your shell and introduced you to new experiences, they were the most patient and caring people you’ve met, and you wouldn’t trade their friendship for the world. 

Out of the corner of your eye, Sarah and John B exchange a few chaste kisses. You immediately turn away, jumping into a conversation about Kie’s whereabouts with Pope. 

“Her dad needed a hand, hopefully, she’ll be back with our food soon.” He answers and slides a glass in front of you, “she got this for you.” 

It was your favourite smoothie flavour. You don’t waste any time and take a long sip, the sweet berries melting on your tongue, a momentary distraction from feeling so different from your friends. 

Under your mother’s watchful eye, you never dared to step out of line and that has led you to being terribly inexperienced in everything dating-related. While your friends were partying and earning their stripes, you were watching from the sidelines and fumbling every opportunity that came your way. You tried to forget all those people who have pursued you, their texts unanswered and calls ignored. 

You shake away those thoughts, “Did any of you have class today?” 

Sarah flips her blond hair over her shoulder, “All my uniforms were in the wash, so it really wasn’t my fault. If private universities didn’t have mandatory uniforms… I still probably wouldn’t have gone.” 

You and Sarah went to the same campus, but your schedules were far different. You could barely remember your own, let alone keep track of hers too. 

Your gaze slowly shifts from each of their faces, “even you, Pope?”

“In my defence, I’m way ahead in all my courses, I could afford to miss a day.” 

“Hmm… And does your dad know?” You tut, tilting your head. 

He stares back at you, “Does your dad know you let Sarah and John B spend their anniversary in the country club after hours?”

Across the table, Sarah’s jaw drops. “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!” 

“I didn’t! Only you and he know.” You point to her boyfriend who was blinking owlishly. 

John B raises his hands, going rigid under his girlfriend’s glare. “I only told JJ.”

All eyes land on the blond, a paper crane napkin in his hands. “Hm? Oh yeah, I told Pope and Kie.” 

“No secrets between Pogues.” They both high-five over your head. 

You deflate, covering your face. “Don’t tell anyone else, okay? I don’t want to accidentally start some under-the-table business renting the club… My mom would kill me.” 

JJ coos, rubbing up and down your back. “Hey, it’s no different than Sarah lending Ward’s yacht to Pope when he wanted to impress that Touron…” He shrieks when a hand slaps the back of his head, knocking his hat to the ground.

“Idiot! No one knew about that!”

“I think we can all agree that JJ is just terrible at keeping secrets. Can’t trust him with anything.” 

You giggle and sip on your smoothie, half-listening to John B’s rant about some customers at the surf shop. JJ sticks a straw in your cup and drinks too, cheekily bumping your foreheads together, his pretty blue eyes locked onto yours. 

You find it hard to turn away, your gaze drifting over his face. From his strong nose to his cheekbones carrying a slight sunburn to his defined jaw. He flashes a grin, those stupid dimples making you a little flustered. 

JJ was a natural flirt, he could make anyone swoon, he showered his friends in platonic love and affection—hugs, cuddles, kisses, you name it and he’s done it to each of you. He’s dated around the island but those relationships never lasted long enough to get serious, and they’ve never been introduced to your group either. 

You’ve always wondered what he was like as a boyfriend, if he was as sweet with his partners as he was with all of you, if that tenderness bled into all his actions. He wore his heart on his sleeve in the most admirable of ways, although he was hotheaded and troubled, you’ve always felt safe with him. 

You pull away, squeezing your eyes shut, “agh! Brain freeze!” 

He snorts, bringing you forward for a sloppy kiss on your forehead, his cold lips against your warm skin. “Maybe you shouldn’t drink so quickly, ya dummy.” 

Kie finally joins the rest of you a while later, bringing trays of fresh food and more drinks before sitting beside John B. Her long brown hair is up in a bun, loose strands frame her face, “Just letting you all know, I expect a mighty fine tip today and everyone is helping me clean up after closing.”  

“Might as well take my kidney while you’re at it.” JJ speaks through a mouthful of fries, “we’re supposed to relax today.”

“And I don’t feel like getting elbow-deep in dirty dishes if I’m not being paid for it,” John B adds. 

“These free meals say different. C’mon, my dad promised he’d try not to disturb me this week if we get this place spotless for spring break.” She looks at you, brown eyes pleading, “I’ll get you a smoothie to go.”

“I mean… it’s a small price to pay for a week of freedom, right?”

“Not guaranteed freedom.”

JJ leans towards you, “don’t say yes.” 

“There’s six of us, we could get it done in one hour or even less if we work fast!” 

“I guess that’s true.” You agree, despite JJ’s protests. 

“Sunshine, no—if you stay, I’m gonna have to stay too.” 

Kie calls your name, reaching over to physically turn you towards her. “Don’t look at him. If you stay, he’ll stay, same goes for Sarah and John B, and well… Pope will stay regardless because he doesn’t have a choice.” 

Pope pulls a face, “excuse me?”

Truthfully, you were going to stay anyway, but it does make you a little bashful knowing that JJ wouldn’t leave without you. 

“Okay, I’ll stay.”

“Same here.” Sarah decides, earning a huff from her boyfriend, “And just for your attitudes, the guys have to clean the deep fryers.”

“Including Pope.” 

“I didn’t even say anything!” 

After thoroughly cleaning The Wreck, the night concludes with a movie marathon at the Chateau. Pope keeps his streak of picking the best movies and chooses a trilogy you haven’t seen before. Bowls of snacks and beer cans litter the floor, and a half-finished pizza sits on the coffee table. Sarah and John B share one couch, and Kie and Pope are sprawled on the floor atop cushions and blankets, while you and JJ are tucked into the smallest couch, your legs over his lap. 

As the opening credits roll on the screen, everyone takes the opportunity to do more catching up. Kie talks about cleaning up some beaches with other volunteers and her most recent trip off the island, a small project with a group of marine wildlife rescuers. She even shows a bunch of pictures of her with baby turtles. 

John B and JJ talk about their co-owned surf shop, “We caved and hired extra help.”

“Finally!” Kie exclaims, “If you and JJ were running that shop alone any longer, it would go bankrupt, you’re both so fucking lazy.”

“Hey, I’m a great employee. I just got employee of the month actually.” JJ defends. 

“You shouldn’t be proud of that if it’s only you two. You literally just vote for each other every month,” Sarah states knowingly. 

You, Sarah and Pope don’t have much to say about your college careers, except for the lack of sleep and dependence on caffeine. It’s not very exciting, but Pope’s story about his professor who only attends class in socks makes you a little thankful for your overly strict school. 

The marathon goes on, and the conversation dies down by the end of the second movie. Someone’s soft snoring flows over the steamy soundtrack and for the umpteenth time tonight, you look away as the two leads share a passionate kiss. At least it wasn’t another sex scene. 

As your best friend, JJ could read you like a book. He knew you from the inside out, he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it, and he knew all of those humiliating secrets that kept you up at night. One of them being your lack of experience. When you confessed that, he told you it wasn’t something to be ashamed of, everyone moves at different paces and lives different lives—but kissing?

“You’ve never been kissed?” 

You cover your face, embarrassment flooding in. “You don’t have to say it like that!” 

“I’m not—I’m not teasing.” His smile says differently. He easily pulls your hands down, holding them in his lap, “it’s just not what I was expecting.” 

He generally knew you weren’t the most experienced in intimacy and relationships, and that’s partly why he was so protective of you. Even at crowded parties and in his drunken state, he’d keep an eye on you, watching out for any creeps. Unbeknownst to you, it was an unspoken rule between the Pogues to treat you a little softer, a little sweeter because they all know how sensitive you were. 

But he figured you’ve kissed someone before. Maybe some lucky kid from Figure 8 or a dude from your private school. 

“I know, I know. You probably find it so funny.” You huff and roll your eyes, “laugh all you want, jerk.”

And to your chagrin, he does but quickly apologizes. “Sorry, sorry. Okay, maybe it’s a little funny. But not in a bad way! It’s actually cute.”

Cute? 

“It’s adorable.” He cups your face, “itty bitty baby hasn’t had her first kiss… not even with that poster in your bedroom?”

Your chest warms as he pinches and pulls both of your cheeks, puckering your lips when you try to speak, “...posh-ers don’t ha’ tongues.” 

“Oh, so you wanna French kiss for your first time? Didn’t think you were that type of girl, sunshine.”

You push him back and try to scoot away, making do with whatever sliver of space you can manage between the two of you, but he doesn’t let you get far. Keeping you in place with his hands on your hips. 

“You’re telling me, aside from no one taking you on a date before, no one has asked to kiss you either?”

“JJ, you know my parents. My mom is so hard to please, I can’t imagine bringing someone home for her approval. And I had opportunities but… I kept getting too nervous.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, his gaze tracing over your face. You hadn’t realized how close he was until now, you could count his every eyelash and his every freckle. 

“I could help you out.” 

A lump appears in your throat, it would silence your words if you could think of any but you can’t. Too caught up in his deep voice as it repeats in your head, again and again like a broken record.

“You trust me, right? You know me, I’m not—I’m not some guy you just met. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. If you wanted to, uh, kiss someone you just met, go ahead.” He reassures, “but I don’t think you want to do that.” 

JJ was so awfully sentimental when it came to his friendships. His several shoe boxes of polaroids, tickets and trinkets under his bed said enough about his love for nostalgia. He was always one to take a chance, to live in a moment for as long as he could, and to find the positives in any situation, even the worst ones. 

Years down the line, he never leaves the house without the silver zippo that you got him on a trip with your parents. It was easy to find something for each of your friends from your weeks-long stay in Europe: jewelry for Sarah and Kie, a first edition copy of a novel for Pope, and a vintage compass for John B, but you were stumped when it came to JJ. 

You saved his gift for last, long after everyone else had fallen asleep, the mess of your celebratory return littering the backyard in empty beer bottles and confetti. He bugged you all night, eager for his special little something.  

“Don’t open your eyes.” 

“...Mhm, I’m having trouble keeping ‘em open.”

You placed the zippo in his hand and stepped back, “Okay, just feel it.”

He passed it between his hands, dragging his fingers over the cold metal until he popped it open, “a lighter?”

You nearly turned away when your nerves started bubbling and you’re thankful you didn’t, or else you would’ve missed his reaction. To this day, you’ve never seen him smile so wide or his eyes light up that bright at the sight of his initials and P4L ingrained in the silver. 

He’s just JJ, one of your best friends in the entire world. 

Deciding to take this opportunity before it slips away, you nod and his lips meet yours. He starts with little pecks, soft and sweet like cotton candy, and they slowly drag into short kisses. Putting a bit of intensity behind it, his tongue swipes along your bottom lip, but you don’t get the hint until he gently thumbs at your chin, just barely pulling your lips apart. He tastes like beer and a bit of weed, and his lips are softer than they look. 

He’s slow and steady, letting you get used to the feel of him. You exhale in his mouth and shyly follow his lead, hoping he can’t hear your heart hammering in your chest. You don’t know if it’s the sweet rush of his lips against yours, or if this is how it feels to kiss someone for the first time, but you feel like you’ll float away. 

Before you know it, he pulls away and presses his forehead against yours. 

“You can breathe while we kiss.” He chuckles, nudging your nose with his, “don’t want you passing out on me, sunshine.” 

You realize how lightheaded you feel and gasp for air, subconsciously licking your lips to taste him again. In a daze, you breathe in and out, briefly wondering if it felt like this to kiss just anyone. 

One of his hands slips behind your neck and the other falls to your thigh, warm and gentle. “Do you want to stop?” 

You glance at your friends, still passed out on the floor and other couches, the movie playing dully in the background. “No?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“No.” You repeat, firmer this time. “I don’t want to stop. Pl-Please don’t stop.” 

How could JJ deny you? Especially when you ask so dreamily with that glazed look in your eyes. He fights the urge to pull you into his lap and touch you all over and be the first person to make you into a pretty mess, to feel you in a way no one else has before. He connects your lips again, taking the lead and slipping his tongue into your mouth. 

The unmistakable wet noises cause tingles to course all over your body, from your toes to the tips of your fingers clasped in your lap. They only get stronger when he tilts your head to kiss you deeper.

“You can touch me too,” he murmurs, bringing your hand to the back of his neck. Your digits automatically curl in his blond hair, drawing a low groan from his throat. 

That’s when you go completely dumb and totally thoughtless. All concerns fly out of your mind and join the bluebirds above your head. They’re playing a little song to the beat of your heart, hitting every note and putting you at ease like a lovesick lullaby. You almost assume that’s why you feel lightheaded again.

JJ leans back, his voice raspy, “you keep forgetting to breathe, baby.” 

“I’m sorry,” you exhale heavily, the butterflies in your tummy going wild as he caresses your face. “I’m not good at this yet.”

His rough fingers drag down your cheekbones and trace your jaw, the pad of his thumb gently presses on your bottom lip, almost slipping inside your mouth. His eyes seem darker, the clear blue shaded in something you can’t name. 

His lips trail to your jaw, the movie long forgotten, “It’s okay, we have lots of time to practice. I’m gonna teach you everything I know, sunshine.” 

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: ahhh I've always wanted to write a sweet fic like this, i'm so excited to dive into a new fandom 🥰🥰 i'm still a lil nervous, but i'm hoping for the best !! feel free to stop by my inbox and let me know what you think of this so far, or request blurbs/drabbles for this au !!

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! this fic doesn't have an update schedule, but i'll add dates on the masterlist (linked here) if i have a date in mind. also, here's the 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 for this fic !!

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

#jj maybank #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank au #college!​jj maybank #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x female reader #jj maybank x you #what friends are for au #sonny’s stories #outer banks #outer banks au #outer banks fanfic #outer banks fanfiction #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow #rudy pankow fanfiction #rudy pankow fanfic #college ​jj maybank #college au #best friend!​jj maybank #best friend ​jj maybank #inexperienced reader #college!reader #jj maybank Imagine #rudy pankow imagine #obx #bff jj

[evilminji]

"!!!" Noise! Quirk is haunted!

Waaaait a second. Oh? My god? You know what would be HILARIOUS?

If Danny was sent on basicly "no, you are still Baby. You can't be King until you're old enough" type Royal Training missions by his Regent Council. Such as? Checking in on Ghosts that, for various Reality Specific Reasons, can't leave their posts and join the Zone yet.

Health and Wellness check, mother duckers.

You know! Like those various Ghosts over in the Haunted McGuffin department! Like? Is YOUR inherited sword or ring or, say, Quirk? Filled with the souls of your predecessors? Yep! That's their royal department! They're with the census and Aid offices.

.........they get lonely.

Why the FUCK does no one remember they exsist? Is it their office's location?

......they bet its the location.

(No, it's because no body wants to file paperwork once they're dead.)

Still! He's sent to be The Intern. Is BELOVED. Finally! People are TAKING THEM SERIOUSLY!!! Oh He's just the BEST! And he... yeeeeah, he's taking the fact he grabbed their department out of a hat? Too the VOID.

Absolutely, boss. This department? Suuuuper important. Very serious.

Please stop crying.

So now he's here! With his uncomfortable uniform, clip on bow tie, and clip board. Trying to interview these guys who are NOT being helpful. All they're shouting is "who are you?" And "how did you get in here?!" And Quirk something or other... Look, buddy(s)! He has places to BE!

Answer the questions!

But they won't! Because Some Dude? Just showed up inside One For All. With a clipboard. He's hanging out in Izuku's subconscious. Keeps STICKING HIS WHOLE ASS HEAD out of Izuku's chest like a chest-burster to try and interview HIM too. Pull Yagi into it.

Like?? Get out of there!!!

No >:/ answer my damn questions!

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @lolottes @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe @spidori

#dp x mha #dp x bnha #minji's writing

[hp-hcs]

okay what about mattheo following the hufflepuff boy he’s crushing on into the woods and discover some magic beast he’s been taking care of!! And he’s just like damn I want him

aaaaaaa sorry for not writing for a couple days, y’all. my fuckin roommate decided to be a dumbass and broke his motherfucking leg, so i had to very hastily write this while he’s high off his ass on ketamine 😀👍

quibbler — mattheo riddle x male! hufflepuff! lovegood! reader

warnings: dumbledore bashing, alluded snape bashing

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Luna floated down the train’s hallway, followed in tow by her younger brother—a daydream-prone Hufflepuff who was oblivious to the advances of half of the school.

“Hello, little Lovegood,” your prefect, Cedric Diggory, said warmly, looking you up and down with a quick glance as he leaned out of the doorway of his friends’ compartment.

“Hello, Mr. Diggory,” you said with a dreamy grin. “Quibbler?”

He took the magazine you held out for him with a wide grin, immediately flipping through the pages. “Thanks, little Lovegood.”

You waved farewell, already starting back down the hallway. You heard Cedric sigh behind you, before returning to his compartment.

You moved onto the next room, sliding open the door and peeking in. The conversation inside halted, and you saw three startled faces looking up at you.

“Who the fu- oh, hello Y/N. You’re looking radiant as ever,” Pansy Parkinson said, fluttering her eyelashes at you.

“Thank you, Miss Pansy,” you said softly. “Quibbler?” You held out the magazine in her direction.

She took it immediately, causing Draco to lean forward and give you a charming grin.

“Got one for me too, little Lovegood?”

“Of course, Mr. Draco!”

The last occupant of the compartment was a boy you’d never seen before. He had an odd guarded look on his face that was severely faltering as he watched his friends communicate civilly with a Hufflepuff a year below them.

“Who are you?” He asked bluntly, although not intending to be rude.

You look over and smile at him. “Hullo, mister. Y/N Lovegood. Quibbler?”

“Mattheo Riddle,” He introduced ambivalently, taking the proffered magazine with some hesitation and raising an eyebrow as he read the cover.

“‘How To Ward Off Wrackspurts’?” He questioned. “What’s a wrackspurt then?”

“Invisible. They make you all confused and higgledy-piggledy. Your friends are full of them.”

The boy glanced at his two friends, who had abandoned attempting to read the eclectic magazine in favor of just staring at you with dreamy gazes.

“Right…”

“See you around then, mister,” you said, stepping back out into the hallway and sliding their compartment door shut before continuing on your journey, unknowingly taking Mattheo Riddle’s heart with you.

~~~ “You’d better watch out for nargles, mister.”

Mattheo startled, looking around for whoever had broken his reverie.

You stood there, your uniform shirt a rumpled mess, tie nowhere to be found, in non-uniform compliant shorts and mismatched socks. You blinked up at him expectantly.

Mattheo licked his chapped lips. “What?” He croaked, his voice cracking.

You didn’t mention it, nor the obvious tears he was hastily wiping away.

“Nargles,” you repeated. “In the mistletoe.” You point upwards, at the small bundle of leaves dotted with white berries hanging above your heads.

His cheeks flushed and he started to stammer something out, but you interrupted him again.

“Here,” Shifting the milk crate that you’d tied a pink ribbon to, thus turning it into a satchel that you carried your schoolbooks in, you pulled off one of your necklaces, holding it out to him.

It was a butterbeer cork on a string. Mattheo blinked.

“Keeps the nargles away,” you explained dreamily. He took the necklace from you with utter reverence and care, swiping his sleeve over his face once more to clear off all of his tears.

“Thank you,” he whispered, looking bewildered as he stared down at the simple pendant resting in his palm.

You just smiled, turning on your heel and starting to skip away, humming to yourself.

~~~ “Did you hear?”

“I heard he was…”

“…believe it! Hogwarts!”

“The Quibbler? Isn’t that the…”

“What’s all the chatter about?” Mattheo asked, elbowing Draco in the side to get his attention.

“Oh, little Lovegood’s in huge fucking trouble.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Draco shrugged. “Apparently he wrote an article for the Quibbler with some strong opinions in it that were considered uh… overly critical of Hogwarts staff. Dumbledork’s trying to claim libel, or something, I dunno.”

“What’d he write?” Mattheo asked. “I didn’t even know he could be critical. Or…opinionated, for that matter.”

Draco pulled a copy of the latest Quibbler out of his bag, handing it over. Mattheo flipped through bizarre crosswords, ads for Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes products, articles with titles like ‘Scrumple-Horned Snorkack Sighting!’ and ‘Mer-Murder: Siren Scion Shocks Sire!’, before finally flipping to Op-Eds.

==================================

Write-In: Hogwarts Student Defends Slytherin House!

Slytherins are not bad.

The system here at Hogwarts is bad. “Healthy house competition”? More like, “Hey what if we divided these eleven year olds into ‘brave’, ‘nerd’, ‘evil’, and ‘other’”.

And inter-house friendship between the ‘good’ houses and the ‘bad’ house is frowned upon. Why? Cleverness and ambition are not inherently immoral things. You know what is immoral? Allowing a house to win the House Cup, only to add enough points after the fact to change the winner of the Cup to a completely different house. But I digress.

Slytherin students here spend seven years being taunted, bullied, and outcast, and then everyone acts surprised when they get revenge? They spend years being put down, and then suddenly, they’re offered power back. Can you blame them? Now, I am in no way defending the actions of [Editor’s note——the student uses You-Know-Who’s actual name here], but I can understand the former students’ reasons for joining. And honestly, I am tired of seeing my peers be treated like a collective persona non grata, when almost all of the former Slytherin graduates are actively against [You-Know-Who]. A very small percentage of the Slytherin house are or were the turncoats in question, and it’s immoral to ostracize an entire group for the actions of just a few people. Collective punishment is a war crime.

But Hogwarts still continues to have clear opinions and preferences on all of the houses, doesn’t it?

Gryffindor is deified by the staff and in the eyes of the general public.

Ravenclaw is patronized and mocked for holding intelligence in high regard.

Hufflepuff is forgotten.

And all Slytherin students are labeled ignoble and contemptuous at the ripe age of eleven.

But alas, this dissent will change no opinions. I’m afraid that Hogwarts’ staff’s inequitable treatment of its students only means that they are digging themselves into a deeper hole, while rapidly losing the amount of people willing to hand them a ladder. I have no respect for adults who bully and abuse children.

– Apoplectic Anonymous

==================================

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” Draco nodded. “Dumblefuck’s been trying to cover it up, but Loony- Luna keeps handing more out every time he confiscates them.”

“Dude,” Mattheo shook his head with wide eyes as he scanned over the Opinion article again. “Wait- how’d he even know who wrote it? This is anonymous.”

“Dunno, man. Nobody can figure that part out,” Draco shrugged, looking around the Slytherin common room. “Hey guys! We oughtta throw a party for little Lovegood when he gets back from Dumbledick’s detention!”

The other Slytherins immediately agreed, cheering.

Mattheo just shook his head in surprise again and glanced back down at the article.

His left arm itched.

~~~ “Thank ye for th’ help, son,” Hag- Professor Hagrid said cheerily, clapping one large hand down on Mattheo’s shoulder.

(He’d never admit it, but Mattheo was forever grateful that Professor Hagrid held no grudge against him for what his dad did to him.)

((Unlike some of the other teachers, who held twenty-year grudges over being friendzoned by the girl they called a slur.))

He stacked up the last few pieces of firewood, wiping his brow and embedding the axe into the chopping log. “‘Course, sir. I could use the extra credit anyway.”

Professor Hagrid chuckled heartily. “Well, I c’n take it from here, son. Oh! Bit o’ advice?” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “There’s a certain blond who hangs out in th’ forest, yeah? Not that you heard it from me.”

Mattheo felt his cheeks redden as it was insinuated that even his teachers knew about his silly crush dear Merlin.

(He did file that bit of information away for later, though.)

~~~ You skipped through the woods, happy to take over your sister’s duty of feeding the creatures. You stopped in a clearing that looked like any other, making a beeline for a certain tree.

Mattheo carefully picked his way through the forest duff, staying an inconspicuous distance away from you. He winced every time a dry leaf or branch snapped under his boots, slowing down and peeking out from behind a row of trees at you.

You tapped on the tree’s bark, waiting patiently until a…creature, an odd, spindly, twig-shaped creature crawled out from a small hollow recess in the tree and onto the sleeve of your coat.

“Hello, little friend! How are you this lovely evening?” You spoke softly to the creature, but your voice carried far in the otherwise quiet forest.

Mattheo watched as you let the creature crawl all over you, holding out a handful of sunflower seeds for it as you rambled on and on about anything and everything.

All Mattheo could think of was:

Oh.

Damn.

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