#i really went from a guy who turns out to have a partner to this why do i like the semi-unattainable lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saetoru · 7 months

Note

Tee…

I’m now on my hands and knees BEGGING for bully Gojo who is (secretly) DISGUSTINGLY IN LOVE over the reader PLEASE ANY CRUMBS I WILL TAKE

(you don’t actually have to write this it was just a nice thought)

idkkkkk if it’s rly bully gojo—but he’s definitely a real cunt for sure.

i just think about an asshole! gojo a lot like he’s ur lab partners or something and he does that stereotypical jerk move where he’s like “seriously ?? her ??” when he’s first paired with you. and he’s just naturally an douche, yk ?? wears sunglasses indoors and makes jokes at the professors expense under his breath that gets him snickers and snorts from his frat guys in his class. has to be asked more than once to “please keep it down in the middle of class” by wtv prof he’s in class with.

and he ofc makes u do all the work bc he can’t be bothered—and on the rare occasion that he is bothered, he just does a poor job that’s the bare minimum and sloppy enough that ur like wtv i’ll just do it myself. and then ofc sometimes u don’t have a choice but to meet up to finish something after class every now and then—he wouldn’t care to, but he actually needs to know the stuff for the final report he has to write individually, so he begrudgingly meets up with you, and sometimes you notice his friends give you an amused look when he walks up with them. they snicker before they leave as he sits with you. sometimes they make a snide comment here and there like “have fun with ur super hot date” that makes him roll his eyes—he doesn’t do much to hide the look of distaste on his face.

but then—and he doesn’t even know when it happens—you start to slowly grow on him. because ur actually pretty snarky urself, sometimes making a dry comment here and there about the professor and his stupid bald headed self. sometimes a girl in the distance laughs too hard a group of guys that u roll ur eyes and mumble how “if i had a voice like that i’d never laugh in public” and it makes him snort a bit without meaning to. sometimes you stare daggers at the person who has their music so loud thru their headphones they can’t help but notice u and turn it down in embarrassment. ur actually not as much of a pushover as he thought—you just genuinely think he’s too incapable to help u out that you’ve just shrugged him off and started doing his part. it’s an easy weekly lab class anyway, you don’t need him—and then he realizes that u rly just don’t care for him. his little snickers at u with his friends and their snide comments roll off ur back bc well…he’s him—an asshole little frat boy and u didn’t expect anything better from him. so it makes him a little intrigued—maybe a little wounded in his pride, deep down, because no one has ever been indifferent to him before. they’re either madly in love, or they hate his guts, or they follow his lead. either works—he still gets the attention he craves.

but u just don’t rly care. and ur actually pretty cool, and kinda sorta funny in a way no one else is. he likes it…and fuck, now he’s starting to like you. he can tell bc when his friends ask how his little date with you went, he starts getting a bit huffy ab it bc they don’t need to talk about you. they don’t even know you…but also….its not a date. and that’s the worst part. sometimes it feels like a date. almost—sometimes you both decide to take a break in between and go get a coffee or a light snack. sometimes he’s even paid (to which you look mildly shocked before politely thanking him) and you both walk back to the library while u make light banter and it’s…well, fun. and nice. and your laugh is pretty. and your smile is kinda cute and he (though he hates to admit it) rly likes it when u laugh because of him.

and then things start to get messy—really, he didn’t mean for it to start this way. he really was meaning to ask you in a genuine manner to see u again once the semester was finished. because he’s actually started pulling his weight—he wants u to see him for someone who’s smart. satoru is actually rly rly smart and no one knows it because he doesn’t rly show it but he is. he wants u to see that side of him—somehow there’s some sick validation he rly needs from you knowing he’s not a dense frat guy who drinks and fucks until 3 am every night. so he starts doing his parts and actually communicates with u about sections. so starts ur texting routine—sometimes a little longer than u rly need to for just doing a lab together. sometimes it’s “did u hear ab that girl in our class getting dumped in front of the kfc ??” and sometimes it’s “god our prof rly needs to get some pussy” and other times it’s “look what the guy who sits behind us just posted on his story” and it leads to a few long convos that admittedly…are rly fun. ur so fun. he likes it. he rly does like u and he thinks maybe….maybe he’s grown on u too and you know what ?? satoru’s always a jerk but ur nice and who’s to say he can’t be nice too ?? just for one person. for u, he can be a nice guy—u carried lab all on ur own long enough that u deserve it anyway.

until he gets swayed in that way only a coward can. in that way you do when ur used to being “the man” around ur friends and ur too pressured to keep up that energy for appearances sake bc u don’t wanna be the laughing stock who softened up for “some nerdy chick who’s a nobody.” so he laughs when they laugh at the fact that ur probably “still a virgin who’s never touched a guy before” and then they’re patting gojo on the back and shoving at his shoulder as they laugh harder and suggest that “y’know what would be so funny man ?? if u took her virginity. you could probably do it.”

the thought is sickening because…satoru wouldn’t want to fuck you like that. god, you have him caring about when and how he fucks you—in fact, just thinking about you lewdly makes him feel guilty. disrespectful, even. you’re more than a fleshlight for his dick. since when did he become so respectful ?? but he doesn’t know how to say no, especially when everyone starts agreeing one after the other—and oh no, now they’re betting on how quickly he can do it….and oh, now it’s not just fucking. now it’s “how long until you think she’s head over heels for you? man, that would be a sight, huh ??”

and….well, satoru decides it couldn’t hurt, right ?? he does want to be romantically involved so that would include you being head over heels. hopefully. fingers crossed. and he doesn’t rly want to seem lame in front of the guys either, so he gets to keep both sides of the coin, so is it really that bad ?? maybe not the right idea but certainly the right execution. he’ll treat you well—that much he’s confident of. so he forces out a laugh and says “gimme a month or two, you’ll see.”

and a month or two they give him. and a month or two it takes—but not for you to be head over heels. it’s him who’s utterly and completely obsessed and fallen head first and whatever else they say to describe love because wow. this must be what it is. this must be that stupid fairytale shit they always talk about because fuck, no one has ever looked at him like that. like he’s some miracle to this earth and some wonder only you know of—like you hope it stays that way and that he’s yours and yours alone and no one else comes in to take him away. satoru really likes being yours, it kinda feels better than you being his. being yours means you hold him like that at night and wake him up to a kiss between his brows and sometimes, when he gets those migraines he’s prone to getting, you always seem to know. always seem to understand when to close the blinds and keep quiet and wrap him up in the covers as you rub your thumbs over his temples soothingly.

he almost forgets about that silly little bet he made two months ago when he’s around you. actually, he forgets everything when he’s around you. he’s only ever thinking about you, you, you. when he comes back to his frat house, on the other hand, they’re all gathered around waiting for the newest details. how you must’ve been so pathetically star struck by him. how you must be embarrassingly bad at kissing. how you must stutter over every other word around him. how you must be making a complete and utter fool of urself trying to impress him and be someone you’re not bc the real you would never pique his interest.

they’re wrong ofc. if anyone’s star struck, it’s satoru bc how the hell are u so…cool ?? and so funny and witty and carefree ?? and you’re good at kissing—have him chasing your lips with a whine every time. sometimes you even chuckle at him when he does and make him blush a bit. he’s the one who stutters over his words when he sees you in your little date night outfits. sometimes he watches you drink from your straw and his brain short circuits a little until you snap at him and ask him in confusion if he’s alright. but the real kicker ?? it’s that if anyone’s pretending, it’s satoru. you’re always just you—unapologetically so, that it’s endearing and beautiful and so unearthly he wonders how he got so lucky. but him ?? he’s always acting like some guy he’s not. some chivalrous guy who opens doors and pushes out seats and kisses the back of hands and waits at least a few dates before even considering fucking. some nice, sweet, genuine guy who’s deserving.

he’s not that—never was. if you knew the real him, you’d leave in a heartbeat. it’s a scary thought. a raw feeling he doesn’t like. makes him feel all self conscious and insecure and all that weird shit he never thought he’d feel.

he tries. so hard, he tries to make them forget about that silly little bet and just slowly drop it and maybe even forget ur dating so he can just stay living this peaceful little fantasy with you—but that’s stupid. that’s naive. it’s been 4 months and enough is enough—the guys need to see the look on ur face when u realize what a fool ur being and satoru is “being a lazy ass who’s too comfortable not having for work for pussy these days.” so then there’s a video going around. it’s everyone gathered around on the couch drunk and talking about you. and satoru. you both, in fact. how it’s been two months and u seem desperate for his attention with the shrill little voice you use to call him toru, baby! it’s so, so fucking embarrassing, they say. how you think he likes it. (he does. god he does so much, it hurts. he loves it, actually, when you call him that. makes him feel special in a way he never has.) but then, the worst, most disgustingly nauseous part of the whole thing is when satoru laughs along and plays into their awful words. just lets them talk about you like you’re some piece of meat. something for him to chew up and spit out after he has a taste or you. not even worth savoring and enjoying. he laughs along and agrees—you’re nothing special and he can’t wait until he’s free of you.

that part hurts. that part sucks the most—when he acts like he didn’t tremble under your touch every time you kissed him. like he didn’t beg you to stay just five more minutes! before walking out the door to go home. he acts one way in front of you and one way in front of them and what’s worse ?? you don’t know which one is real. couldn’t tell even if your life was on the line to decide. because there’s no way he’s that good at pretending to be desperately in love, no fucking way. but there’s also no way he can be in love if he’s talking about you like that. that’s not what love is—that’s not what love feels like. that’s not what it means to someone.

you don’t know which satoru is the real one, but you know that neither is worth your time. not if he can’t stick to it.

it’s terrible thing—the way you break up. it’s messy and teary and he’s begging, he’s actually begging. he never thought he’d do that. but he doesn’t even hesitate to plead for you to hear him out. baby, please let me explain. wait, please don’t walk away—please just listen! i can explain.

he can’t explain, though when you as him to. stands there with a bitten bottom lip and teary eyes that are pleading you to just stay with him. to overlook this and just … ignore it like it’s nothing. like what he did and said was just nothing and you can shrug it off like you’re nothing too. like your feelings are nothing and so is your worth and that’s why you should just ignore the way he absolutely destroyed your pride and reputation and dignity and worse….every ounce of your love.

such deep, raw, pure love—it’s almost enough to heal every dry crack and crevice of this earth and bring it back to life.

you look at him with teary eyes and something so broken, it makes him feel like dirt beneath your feet.

“it’s embarrassing, satoru,” you hiss that night through tears, “you’re in your twenties getting a degree and you’re still just a high school bully. life’s really gonna kick you in the ass some day.”

life’s already kicking him in the ass as soon as you walk out. the air is colder. the world is dimmer. food doesn’t taste as good and fuck—there is just so much loneliness when you have no one to be yourself with. when there’s no you.

but he supposes you’re right though—he is just a bully. it’s pathetic, really. and maybe it’s for the best. maybe you don’t deserve someone who’s only ever known how to feel good because someone else doesn’t.

#bye #this is so obnoxiously long for a silly little jumble of thoughts #maybe i’ll flesh it out and make it an actual fic tho #bully! gojo tag

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incognit0slut · 6 months

Text

BATTLE SCARS

Part 2 of kinktober | main masterlist

What started out as innocently counting body scars with your coworker, who you were stuck in the same bed with, ended far from being innocent.

sub!spencer x fem!reader; Face sitting, male and female oral, body worship, cockwarming

words: 6,300 (I couldn’t help it the buildup was fun to write)

a/n: I hope this shows up on your page because apparently this app hates me

"THERE’S ONLY ONE ROOM LEFT."

Of course, there is, you thought, eyes glancing over to your partner of the day. Spencer was the one you were partnered with when Hotch had sent you to check on the victim's childhood home. He's good at deducing clues, was what your unit chief had said, and although those words were well-intentioned, you couldn't help but feel slightly dejected.

One month of working in the BAU meant that everyone would scrutinize you, even when you knew you were more than capable of doing the job. It wasn't like you were randomly picked for this position. You went through the same process as everyone else did. You were as smart as everyone was but it seemed that your boss still thought you needed a babysitter to do this simple task.

One month of working as the latest addition to the team also meant you didn't know your colleagues that well, which was why you wondered what was going through Spencer's mind in this current predicament. What did he think of the sudden thunderstorm hitting this remote town just as you were about to leave? What did he feel about having to seek shelter because driving in this terrible condition wasn't a choice anymore?

And what ran through his mind when the guy behind the counter, who looked like he didn't even want to be here in the first place, said there was only one room left?

"Are you sure?" Your coworker pressed on, eyes darting across the computer screen sitting on the desk. "Did you check every room? All of them?"

The man in front of him quirked an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm not doing my job right?"

"No, he's not," you cut in. You glanced at Spencer, noticing he was constantly fidgeting on his feet. You might not know him well enough, but you were a profiler, and with the way he kept shifting his weight from one leg to another, you could tell he was uncomfortable with the situation. You wondered what had him so worked up like this. Was it the idea of having to spend the night with a woman?

Well, he did seem like the type of guy who didn't have his fair share of nights with the opposite sex, but then again, you weren't going to start guessing his personal life. Although you did once see him act all bashful in front of a witness who, you had to admit, was the epitome of sweet and innocent. Her traits were probably on the top list of his preferred type, exactly the opposite of yours.

Huh.

So was it just the idea of spending the night with you that ticked him off?

"It's fine," you said, looking back at—you narrowed your eyes at the name tag clipped on his shirt—Kevin. His name was Kevin. "We'll take it."

Spencer's eyes fell on you. "But—"

"But it's pouring outside and neither of us should be driving in this horrible weather," you added. "End of discussion."

He looked like he was about to retort a reply when a sudden string of light cackled through the night sky, followed by another heavy downpour. He winced as his shoulders slumped, another posture of discomfort but one with a hint of defeat. You saw him reluctantly nod from the corner of your eyes.

"Alright," he finally said. "We'll take it."

Kevin slid a key across the wooden desk. "Room 306."

You thanked him and grabbed onto the key before turning on your heels. The walk to the room was extremely quiet except for the constant sound of the rain pouring outside. Spencer shuffled his feet beside you, and even though you wanted to fill in the silence, the thought of him not wanting to room with you annoyed you more than you wanted to admit.

Were you really that bad? Was the idea of sharing a room with you repulsive for him to act this way?

When you finally reached your shared room, an immediate sense of awkwardness washed over you like an unexpected wave. The room, though not large, was well-furnished and neat. But what caught your attention was the sight that greeted you in the dimly lit space. In the center of the room was a bed—not large enough to be luxurious, yet not small enough to be cozy.

Your eyes met briefly with his and a moment of unease passed between you two. Finally, he broke the silence with a hesitant voice. "I can sleep in the car."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his suggestion. "It's pouring outside."

"Right." He sighed, realizing the impracticality of his proposal. "Well, then I'll, uh, sleep on the floor."

"Reid." Your narrowed eyes fixed on him, your patience wearing thin. "The bed is big enough for the both of us. I don't mind sharing."

He paused, clearly taken aback by your straightforward response. "A-Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't," you replied, showing your back to him. "I'm going to use the bathroom first."

"U-uh, yes. Sure. Of course," he stammered, his voice trailing off as he watched you leave the room.

You retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. As you washed your hands and splashed some cool water on your face, you couldn't help but wonder what had led to his initial hesitance. The storm outside was fierce, and the idea of venturing into it to sleep in the car or on the floor seemed impractical, to say the least. You knew that sharing the bed was the most sensible option, but there was an unspoken tension in the room, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why he had been so reluctant.

Turning off the tap, you took a deep breath. Whatever. He could act all uncomfortable as much as he wanted and you could pretend he wasn't even there. So you decided to shed your jeans, leaving yourself in the oversized button-up shirt that served as your makeshift nightwear.

The shirt fell gracefully to the middle of your thighs, offering a sense of ease you couldn't find in your uncomfortable jeans. With them neatly folded and placed on the bathroom counter, you looked back into the mirror one last time, straightening your wrinkled shirt, and ran a hand through your hair before stepping back into the room.

You found him seated on the edge of the bed, his posture awkward and uncertain. You watched as he shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting toward the single window in the shared space, his eyes narrowing each time a particularly strong gust of wind rattled the pane.

You decided to break the silence. "You know, it's just a little rain. We'll be out of here as soon as the weather clears up tomorrow."

His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a mixture of frustration and something else, something deeper, in his eyes. "It's not about the rain," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation.

So it really was about you.

His gaze then traveled over your exposed skin, and you could see his eyes growing wide, clearly taken aback by your choice of attire. "W- What are you wearing?"

Unable to suppress a chuckle at his sudden shift in demeanor, you decided to play along. "Do you mean what I'm not wearing?"

He blinked, his response caught in his throat, leaving him momentarily speechless. His gaping mouth and wide-eyed expression only fueled your amusement. You shrugged in response, trying to play off his intense gaze, but you felt his eyes linger on your thigh, fixated on the long scar mapping along your skin.

"Reid," you called out, and he looked up at you, his expression wry as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been.

"Y-yes?" he stammered, clearly flustered by being caught in the act.

You pointed toward the bathroom. "You can use it now," you suggested.

His face lit up with realization. "Oh! Right," he exclaimed, his flustered state evident as he stumbled on his way to the bathroom.

The awkwardness seemed to follow him as he disappeared into the other room. After turning off the main lights, you left only the soft glow of the bed lamp, which cast a warm ambiance in the room. The covers provided a sense of security and comfort as you finally settled beneath them.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a white shirt he seemed to wear under his button-down shirt. However, unlike you, he still had his pants on, although he did discard his belt.

Seeing him in this stripped-down, casual state was a bizarre sight. You had grown accustomed to his poised and professional demeanor, and the sight of him dressed in ordinary clothes seemed oddly intimate as if you were witnessing a side of him that few others had seen. It was as if you were seeing him naked even when he was still covered in most of his clothes.

He then settled onto the bed with a noticeable awkwardness, causing the mattress to sink down slightly under his weight. He lay far away from you, in a stiff and distant manner, clearly still grappling with the awkwardness of the situation.

"Reid, relax, I'm not going to bite you," you said reassuringly, trying to dispel some of the tension in the room. A small, playful smile danced on your lips. "Unless that's what you want me to do," you added, your voice taking on a teasing note.

A brief moment of silence followed, and it almost seemed as if he was contemplating your playful offer. You felt the tension shift into something else, but before it could further linger, you decided to break the silence with a forced laugh, shaking off the tension. You then rolled over to your side, closing your eyes shut, ignoring the sound of heavy rain hitting the window and the bolt of lightning occasionally flashing through the sky. You just wanted to rest. You just wanted peace. You wanted to sleep.

But sleep didn't want you.

About ten minutes later, you groaned softly and rolled over onto your back. "Reid," you said, breaking the silence.

He hummed in response.

"I can't sleep," you confessed, your voice carrying a hint of restlessness. Turning to face him, you propped yourself up on your elbow. "Tell me something about yourself," you suddenly requested, your curiosity cutting through the awkwardness.

He hesitated for a moment as if considering whether he should respond to you or not, but then he eventually asked, "Anything?"

"Anything."

"Well, I—uh," he cut off, and with a faint hint of modesty, he began again. "I'm extremely smart."

From all the information he could share, he decided to share that. But it was still something, at least you could get your coworker to talk instead of fidgeting in discomfort. "Yeah? How smart?"

"Well, I have an IQ of 187 and three PhDs."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's impressive," you responded, but then you let out a scoff. "And extremely conceited. Someone asks you to share a fact about yourself and you decide to brag about your brain."

Your remark earned you a small, amused smile from him. "You told me to share anything."

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you leaned in a little closer. "Alright, your turn."

He gulped at your sudden movement but kept his attention on your eyes. "My turn for what?"

You laid on your back again. "Ask me something," you suggested.

There was a moment of hesitation as if he had been contemplating whether to ask the question and then his voice filled the air. "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" You asked, your brows furrowed slightly.

"Y-Your scar."

You couldn't resist a teasing tone as you turned your head toward him. "Spencer Reid," you taunted, a playful glint in your eye. "Were you checking me out?"

His response was quick and slightly flustered. "What? No!" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "It was a mere observation," he clarified, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

Your laughter filled the room, a light, and genuine sound that seemed to dissolve some of the remaining tension in the air. "Alright, alright," you conceded, still amused by the exchange. "Observation duly noted."

Without warning, you kicked off the covers, a spontaneous decision driven by a mix of curiosity and the playful atmosphere that had developed between you. Your actions were unanticipated, even to yourself, but perhaps it was his flustered self that had spurred you on.

As the covers fell to the side, you extended your leg, showing him the white scar dancing along the inner part of your thigh. His eyes widened in surprise, his gaze drawn to your exposed skin. For a moment, there was silence, as if the room held its breath, and then he met your eyes.

"Fell off a cliff from a hiking trip," you explained, your voice softening with the memory. "I was exploring a trail and had a bit of a mishap. It left me with this scar as a souvenir."

His eyes flickered over the scar. "Did it hurt?"

You shrugged. "It did, but I guess I got through it."

Then, to his surprise, you began to unbutton your shirt. His eyes widened in disbelief at your actions. "W-what are you doing?"

You merely grinned in response, your confidence unwavering. You pushed the material of your shirt off your shoulder, revealing another scar, smaller and darker than the one on your thigh. "This is the most painful one," you explained. "A bullet from a handgun."

He examined the scar intently. "What happened?"

"A chase with a suspect a few years ago," you recounted, recalling your life before you joined the BAU. "We cornered the suspect in an abandoned warehouse, it was a tense standoff. He was armed, and in the chaos of the moment, a shot was fired." You gave him a smile. "I was the unlucky one in the way."

Your eyes locked with one another in a moment of shared understanding, and then you asked, "What about you? Any battle scars?"

He paused for a moment, considering your question. He seemed hesitant at first as if debating whether to share, but then he slowly lifted his shirt, revealing a scar on his lower abdomen. "Flying bullet."

He turned slightly, revealing a slight scar on his lower back, the result of a sharp weapon grazing his skin. It was a subtle yet significant mark. "An Unsub armed with a knife." He then laid back on his back again and tapped his right leg. "There's another scar from a bullet on my knee."

You couldn't help but tease him lightly, your tone playful. "Well, aren't you a magnet for disaster?"

His expression softened at your teasing. You stared at each other silently, taking in each other's presence in the close proximity the bed offered. You weren't sure how, or when for the matter, but it seemed the distance you both created grew shorter in the span of time you were talking.

Your gaze drifted over his features, from his brown orbs to his pointed nose, then along his high cheekbones before settling on the small scar underneath his jawline. It was a subtle mark, but it caught your attention, and you couldn't resist reaching out to gently touch it.

"What about this?" you inquired, your finger tracing the scar. "How did you get it?"

His breath seemed to catch at your sudden touch, and he stammered slightly in response, "I-I cut myself with a razor this morning."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his explanation, and your finger continued to graze his skin, skimming along the faded scar in a circular motion. "And how bad did it hurt?" you asked.

"Not so much," he whispered, his breathing starting to become uneven and it was at that moment you realized how compromising of a position you were in. He was on his back, and somehow you managed to press yourself onto him with a leg resting on his, your hips flushed against his side.

Maybe the rain, the rhythmic pattern of the raindrops beating in synchronized with your heart pushed your actions. Or perhaps it was being in the same bed. Whatever it was, the undeniable proximity between you created a charged atmosphere in the room. Every breath felt heavy, and the air seemed to thicken with unspoken tension, drawing you even closer.

You wanted to kiss him. How could you not when he was looking at you with those eyes? It was hard to ignore this sudden pull of attraction, but Spencer seemed like the type of guy who rarely made the first move. Maybe you needed to initiate it first.

"You know..." you began, your eyes trailing across his tiny scar. "I was thinking of kissing it better?" Your words hung in the air, and you felt him stiffen beside you. "If it was painful, that is."

A charged silence enveloped the room after your suggestive offer. Your heart raced, taking a leap at the first step in crossing the line. He could either play along or push you away, it was a risk you were willing to take, and you prayed he was into it just as you were.

"A- Actually," he stuttered. "I think I'm starting to feel the pain now."

You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling. "Oh, you poor thing." And before he could respond, you bent over and pressed your soft lips against his scar. You felt him momentarily freeze. "Better?"

You thought he was about to back away when he didn't answer, but then his words had you grinning from ear to ear.

"...I'm not sure," he replied, his voice cutting through the silence. "I think it still hurts?"

Your smile grazed his scar again, softly, barely even touching it, before you trailed down his jawline, stopping on the crook of his neck.

"I.." He breathed out, his voice sounding strangled as you felt his grip on your hip. "I-I don't think that's where the scar is."

"I know." You opened your mouth, your tongue slightly tasting his skin. "I'm making a scar of my own."

Your parted lips were hot against his skin, his eyes fluttering close as you softly sucked on the spot below his ear. You always loved receiving neck kisses, but giving them? There was a certain sense of power to be able to make someone shiver under you, and it was what he was doing right now, breath hitching every time you sucked on a different spot.

You cupped his face as you continued to trail your lips along his neck, pressing your body closer to his. You moved your hand lower, fingers grazing his jawline before it rested around his throat, and as you put slight pressure on your hold, you heard him inhale sharply. You paused, not sure you were hearing right, but then you tightened your grip around his neck and a soft, strangled moan escaped his lips.

You smiled.

Spencer Reid, you naughty, kinky boy.

"We can stop if you want," you murmured against his skin because truthfully, you knew you couldn't restrain yourself after this.

"N- no," he sighed. "Don't stop."

It was enough for you to throw your leg over him. You lifted yourself up and straddled his lower half, stifling a moan as you felt the hard pressure between your thighs, and pressed your lips against his. You couldn't stop yourself from kissing him with so much fervor. Your lips collided with his as you pushed your tongue inside his opened mouth—tasting him, exploring him, devouring him. Who would've thought you would enjoy kissing your coworker this much?

You pulled away and studied him. Spencer was a blessing to witness. His eyes were heavy and hooded, his hair was disheveled with some strands stuck to his forehead and his lips were swollen and parted as he breathed slowly through them. His pale complexion bore the marks of a flush and you couldn't stop yourself from pushing away a strand of hair from his face.

"You're so pretty." Those words came out of your mouth without much thought in which you received a breathless sigh in return.

"You're.... you're more pretty."

You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair. "You understand I'm not going to stop now, right?" He faintly nodded. "And do you know what that means?"

He shook his head.

"It means I'm going to fuck you," you taunted, a wicked smile curling on your lips. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to use that smart brain of yours.”

The whine flying out of his mouth was enough for you to lean in closer, your lips extremely close to his but not quite touching. "Can I be rough?" His strangled whimper had you wrapping your hand around his throat again. "Use your words, baby."

"Y-yes," he breathed out. "Please."

"Good."

You pulled your hand back and brought it down sharply on his cheek. The sound startled you because it sounded harder than it felt, ringing out loud with only the faintest sting on your palm.

Spencer looked genuinely surprised. His head turned with the impact of the slap, jaw falling open. He blinked himself back into focus and you were about to ask if you were being too much, but then he looked at you in a way he had never looked at you before. The dazed and desperation of his gaze moved right through you, flushing you with heat.

"Such a pretty boy for me," you said, gently rubbing his cheek. You watched him, a curious smile playing at the corners of your lips. In that moment, you felt a peculiar sense of power and intimacy that was unlike any other you had experienced. It was an odd but exhilarating sensation, feeling an almost illicit delight in the power you held over him.

You then slowly straightened yourself. Taking your time, you began to unbutton your shirt as his gaze burned into you. You popped each button open until it left the sight of your black, laced bra on display for his eyes to devour. Your bra showed a hint of skin over the top, bouncing a little as you pulled yourself out of your shirt.

You reached behind your back to unhook your bra before slipping it from your shoulders, allowing your breasts to bounce free. Spencer couldn't help but swipe his tongue across his lips at the sight. Your breasts were on display with hardened, aching nipples to taunt him. You brought them in your palms, playing and squeezing your flesh for a moment just to tease him.

"Do you want to taste me?"

He let out a desperate sigh. "Please."

You placed the palm of your hands on his chest before leaning in, dropping your breasts right in front of his face. It didn't take him long to know what you wanted, and he quickly wrapped your right nipple in his mouth, his tongue hot against your skin.

"Fuck, Spencer," you moaned. You shivered upon the contact. His mouth sucking on your nipple was making your head delirious. Warmth spiraled from your core to the rest of your body as he tasted you, and when you thought you couldn't feel more aroused than you already were, he let go of your swollen nipple just to give his attention to the other one, sucking even harder.

You couldn't handle it anymore. A moment later your fingers ran down his chest, brushing over his stomach to feel him tense beneath your touch until the second you grip the hem of his pants. "Take these off for me."

You had never seen someone move so fast before. The moment you climbed off the bed, he started peeling his clothes from his body piece by piece. He left no article on before throwing his clothes to the floor, eyes raking your body as you stood before him in nothing but your panties. Those were quick to go, however. You pushed them down your hips and flicked the thin fabric past your feet.

A strained groan filled his chest as he looked at you, marveling at your naked form with wonder. Thoughtlessly he wrapped a hand around the base of his hardened cock and your eyes instantly take in the sight. The way he was biting his bottom lip, fingers around his thick, hard length had your mouth watering, but you stopped yourself from giving in.

"Who said you could touch yourself?"

His body tensed. He quickly placed his hands on the bed as you climbed back on the bed, the mattress sinking in from your weight.

“I like to be warmed up a little first," you told him as you settled on top of him again, but this time, you scooted further, putting your knees on either side of his head. Spencer's eyes went wide as he looked up to see you wet and bare, hovering inches away from his face.

"I'm going to sit on your face, and if you can make me come on your tongue..." You started to lower yourself. "I'll give you your reward."

You felt his breath on your center, and the minute his tongue touched you, you let out a moan. He worked his tongue over your clit, swallowing every drop of arousal dripping down his mouth. You gripped the headboard and rocked yourself back and forth while he continued to lap on your pussy without any care for the mess you made. You were wet and sloppy as his tongue moved in and out of you, up and down your folds while also sucking on your swollen clit.

"Oh my god," you moaned, looking down at where you could see the top of his face, his eyes closed as he groaned on your flesh, wrapping his arm around your thighs while never stopping stroking your wetness with his tongue. He held you tight, keeping you in place, and there was nothing else you could do but buck your hips as you ran your hands through his hair and tugged on the strands, receiving a deep, rough yet excited groan from him.

You exhaled his name, not being able to find the words or the breath in you to speak as you felt the familiar coil in your stomach. He flicked his tongue over your clit a few times before gathering up your juices and circling back to the swollen bud, massaging your flesh with the flat of his tongue. You felt the bliss swelling inside your body. You knew you wouldn't last much longer.

"I'm getting close," you warned him, beginning to grind your pussy against his mouth. He groaned against your flesh, sending vibrations through your body in return, and with a few more laps around your clit, you finally reached your high.

You felt the warmth from between your legs surge through your whole body. Your pussy walls tightened as you kept rocking your hips against him, whimpering, moaning, crying out that you were coming. You shivered and trembled above him, tossing your head back, gripping his hair even tighter, and pressing your thighs together around his head.

It took a moment for you to come down from your orgasm, and as you did, his motions slowed down, licking you gently, his hands soothing down your thighs. You finally lift your hips off his face, hovering above him on shaky thighs.

"You did so well," you cooed. You slowly shifted down his body, and when he thought you were about to straddle him again, you surprised him by moving lower.

“Let me give you your reward." You sighed while wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock in a firm grip. "You deserve it."

He felt so hot in your hand, so thick, so big, and utterly beautiful. You slowly moved your hand along his length, stroking him gently as you watched his lips parting open from the pleasure. You continued to stroke him, motions slow and steady, and he eventually closed his eyes, head falling back against the bed. You swiped your thumb across the tip, his eyes shot open as he looked at you.

"Keep your eyes on me."

He carefully propped himself on his elbows to get a better view just as you gripped him tighter while leaning close. The droplet of wetness on the tip looked too nice to be ignored so you leaned in and licked it up, your eyes meeting his gaze, and his jaw slacked open in pure pleasure. A pause settled in the room before you finally took him fully in your mouth, giving him an exploratory suck.

You kept swallowing him down, your jaw stretching wide as you struggled to get every inch of him inside your mouth, wrapping your hand around what was left. You hollowed your cheeks and greedily inhaled him. His smooth, warm length slid across your tongue and his cock hit the back of your throat.

Without warning his hips jerked up, and you gagged, rearing back off with a cough, eyes watering. "I'm s-sorry," he apologized.

"It's okay, baby, I'm giving you your reward," you whispered before holding his throbbing cock in your grip again. "Hold my hair up for me?"

He did exactly as he was told, gathering your hair in his hands. Your mouth enclosed around him again and you repeated the movement, trailing down his cock with your tongue, hands twisting back and forth, lips sliding back down until you had every inch of him in your mouth.

You glanced up at him, brow-raising mischievously as you moved your head in a rapid motion. He panted out a whine, his chest heaving as he inhaled a lung full of desperately needed air.

"Please..." he whimpered, bucking up ever so slightly. His cheeks burned at the sound of his own desperation. You gazed up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, so pretty and needy. He blinked down at you, your cheeks flushed and lips stretched wide, an utterly obscene sight as you kept swallowing the entire length of him.

And then you felt him starting to shake, his body trembling while the grip on your hair tightened at every stroke of your tongue. You could tell he was on the brink of exploding, yet you didn't want him to finish inside your mouth, so you pulled away just as quickly as you began.

You could tell he was about to whine a protest, but he immediately stopped himself as you climbed on his lap, gripping his cock in your hand and guiding it towards your aching pussy. But then you stopped, eyes meeting with his, your voice softening. "Should I use a condom?"

"You can..." he mumbled as if it was hard to even articulate any words when his tip was already brushing against your wetness. "You can do whatever you want."

You lingered for a moment, grinding yourself against the tip of him, getting wetter as your arousal dripped out. "I want to feel you."

The whimper he let out was loud, almost pornographic. "I want to feel you too."

Then you began to slide his cock into you, slowly, taking your time to draw the moment out. Your body went tense in an instant, you could hardly handle the way his size was pushing into you.

"Fuck, you're stretching me," you moaned the words, tossing your head back while closing your eyes. The content sigh leaving your lips was loud when his tip finally hit that soft spot. You had never felt this full before and you wanted to soak in the way he was filling you so deep, so you buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent as you sit there with his cock stuffed inside of you.

For you, it felt nice, but for him, it was torture. As warm as you were, as tight as you clenched him, he still needed more. With urgency, he reached for your body before his eager hands landed on your hips, a groan of desperation built in his throat as you stayed there, not moving a muscle. "Can... can you move?"

You kissed a spot below his ear. "Why should I?"

"I-I..."

"Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want." Your tone was soft, but you didn't drop the entirety of your dominance. "Do you want me to ride you? Is that it? You want me to fuck you senseless?"

"Yes," he rasped out as if he had been holding his breath. "Please..."

You gripped him by the throat. "Say it."

"Pl-please fuck me," he gasped, gulping for air.

You smiled.

"Good boy," you replied. You began moving against his cock, grinding yourself over his lap, feeling him fill you up and hit deep inside you. It was almost too much but you remained focused. Your palms pressed to his shoulders as you pushed yourself up, moving your hips against his body.

He could feel you squeezing him. Every roll of your hips, every flutter of your walls, and every moan that rumbled from your chest. His huge palms wandered over the small planes of your back, caressing every dip and roll of your body. His eyes glazed over to where you were connected, the sight of your pussy clenching around every inch of him lulled him into a bewitching trance.

Soon you found a somewhat steady rhythm, circling your hips and grinding down on him faster, picking up your pace. You felt your heart drumming against your ribcage and the concoction of arousal running down your thigh and dripping onto his legs.

"God, you're going to make me come so quick," you cried, your hand lowering between your thighs to reach your clit. With two fingers, you began to massage your flesh while bouncing down his cock, riding him, feeling the tip so deep within your walls. You let loose, moaning and whimpering. He couldn't help but groan, feeling your walls tighten around him, feeling your juices drip down his groin.

You felt him thrust upward towards you, following your pace, and a second orgasm started building low in your stomach. You felt it everywhere, from the tips of your fingers to the edge of your toes. It thrummed every nerve, vibrating you to the bone. "Fuck, I'm close."

His breath quickened as he felt your walls clenching him, his eyes brushing every inch of your body. You were such a sight to see. He was entranced by the way you were thrusting yourself on his cock, your breasts bouncing from the movement, your taut nipples begging for attention. He couldn't stop himself when he suddenly pulled you in, momentarily surprising you, and sucked onto your nipple hungrily.

You cried out when you felt his teeth softly tugging your nub. You were supposed to be in control, and you still wanted to keep your dominance, but it was hard to when he suddenly planted his feet on the bed and thrust his hips into you at a mind-numbing speed. Harshly. Roughly. Violently.

"Fucking hell, Spencer," you moaned, holding onto his shoulders. "I-I'm gonna—"

His fingers dug harshly into the tender skin of your sides, his hips were bucking up uncontrollably, desperate to reach the blissful relief. His tone became ragged as he groaned what sounded like your name entwined. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that began uncoiling in his entire body. You grabbed onto his unruly hair, tugging it back roughly before smearing open-mouthed kisses all over his throat and collarbones, voicing out your whimpers right into his ear.

That was enough for him—he came undone, allowing his muscles to contract one last time as he spilled into you, filling you completely with warmth with one last thrust. You followed him with a scream, wrenched from your throat so roughly it seared its way out of your lungs and into the air. Your movements became sloppy and uneven, clinging onto him as you chased your own high.

The room smelt of sex. It was your first thought when you finally felt your body relaxing, your mind coming back to its senses. Never, not even once in your life, have you ever considered kissing Spencer willingly.

Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he had the most amazing eyes, and yes, his soft demeanor did attract you the first time you met him, but that was it. He was simply your coworker, one you didn't know that well, one who seemed to make a big deal out of spending the night with you... and ironically, one who had you shaking in pleasure.

You weren't sure what would happen next. At first, you thought your presence ticked him off in the wrong way because you were the new, inexperienced member of the team... but now you couldn't help but speculate the way he acted differently towards you had something to do with what just happened.

Maybe he didn't think of you as a mere colleague... maybe he thought of you as someone potentially more? You could be right, or you could be wrong, and there was only one way to find out. You softly let your fingers brush his cheek.

"You need to take me out on a proper date," you suggested through the silence. Then a smile bloomed on your face when you felt him dip his head in your palm.

The nod he gave you couldn't be anymore faster.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds smut

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rafesslxt · 3 months

Text

Love Potion ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ | Mattheo Riddle

summary: y/n thought she would smell something different while making Amortentia

warning: enemyxlover vibes, cursing, mattheo blushing for a second

note: shorter than usual but got this idea and had to write ( obviously there are other imagines like this so no not a new original idea i mean )

Together with my friends Harry, Ron and Hermione I walked to out next class potions. This year Professor Slughorn was teaching us and I really enjoyed what we learned so far.

Today we shared class with slytherin. Everyone got in and sat down, waiting for Professor to start.

" Good evening everyone, today you are going to learn how to make a love potion. The strongest to be exact. It is called Amortentia."

All the girl started giggling but I was distracted by a strong scent, something like mens cologne.

" Who can tell me something about it? " Professor Slughorn asked. Hermione‘s hand shot up into the air. " Yes, Miss Granger."

" Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world. It is distinctive for its mother-of-pearl sheen, and steam rises from the potion in spirals. Also Amortentia smells different to each person, according to what -"

" Yes yes yes Miss Granger, 10 points for gryffindor. And the rest of the students should figure the last point out by themselves, right?" Hermione nodded and looked at the example in front of her.

" All the ingredients are on your tables, you can either partner up or do the potion on your own. You have time till 10 minuten before the class ends. Have fun!" He clapped into his hands and everybody started.

Ron and Harry decided to do the potion on their own while Hermione and I decided to team up. It went really well until my nose was filled with this strong scent again. I looked around and the only person walking behind me was Riddle. I rolled my eyes at the thought of having his cologne in my nose.

" What is it with you? You seem so tense since we started class." Hermione asked while stirring the potion. " I have Riddles fucking strong cologne in my nose. This guy needs to start using less of it."

She knew about my hate towards him and everything he does. But I didn‘t started it, he did and I was never one to back down. So we tried to get on each other‘s nerves on every opportunity.

"Oops." i heard and felt a shoulder bumping into my side, almost knocking the potion over. I turned my back and saw Mattheo. " Wow, really mature. But what did I expect from you huh?" i snickered and turned back.

As everyone got ready, Professor Slughorn walked around the class and looked at eachs Amortentia.

" Very good ladys. May I take this for an example?" Hermione nodded proudly and we watched him putting it on the table in front of all of us.

" You all did a great job. Now I want you all to take a deep breath trough your nose and smell the potion in front of you." Everyone did as he said but again I couldn‘t smell anything but that stupid cologne.

"Y/n, why don‘t you tell me what you smell?" Professor Slughorn asked you smiling, pointing at the potion you and Hermione made. " I would love to professor, but I can only smell Mr. Riddle‘s cologne cause he apparently doesn‘t know when to stop spraying."

I gave Mattheo a dirty look but got confused really fast due to his confused look. What? No barking back?

" I don‘t wear any today, I rushed out of my common room cause I overslept." My eyebrows drew together, I didn‘t really understand why I would smell his cologne all class.

" Maybe If you take a step closer to the potion you can concentrate on the single ingredient you smell." Professor Slughorn suggested.

I did as he said and took a deep breath in again. " Um, I smell Sandlwood, bergamot and something like the deep ocean.. sea salt maybe."

I was in some kind of trance while smelling it. It was lovely, i felt so light and some goosebumbs formed on my body.

I looked up seeing Hermionie smiling. " What?" I whsipered. " Miss Granger, could you tell us the last fact for the Amortentia ?" Mr. Slughorn asked her.

" Amortentia smells different to each person, according to what attracts them." Attracts them? No no no..

I look at Mattheo, who‘s already smiling from head to toe. " Very good Miss Granger, now have a good day! And remember: Amortentia is a very dangerous potion! You should never underestimate it!"

We packed our stuff and left the class. " So what was that all about y/n? Smelling Mattheo? I mean do you really have a crush on that doucheba-" Ron startet but got interrupted shorty after " Yeah y/n, you have a little crush huh?“ Mattheo swung his arm around me, taking me away from my friends.

"What the fuck are you doing?" We rounded a corner and he stopped. " No playing around anymore little princess. Was that supposed to be a joke ?" I hope so too. " Because I smelled your fucking perfume the whole time too!"

" You - You did what?" I almost whispered, my hand flying onto my mouth. " I smelled you the whole time. Vanilla and something like strawberry.. fuck I wanted to devour you so bad." He came closer, pressing me against a wall, his chest against mine. "Tell me you don‘t feel the same, tell me I can go fuck myself and tell me to get my hands off of you."

I couldn‘t. He was right, I wanted to tell him to fuck off and to not touch me, but I simply couldn‘t. " Y/n.." he whsipered my name, coming closer with his face. Then it hit me, it has to be a joke.

I started laughing which he just answered with a confused look. " It is a joke right? You try to fuck with my head because I said I smelled you while smelling the potion. I smelled your cologne not you. Somebody else could wear it too."

" I‘m not joking y/n." " Prove it."

And from one second to another, my whole life changed. He took my face in his hands and pressed his lips again mine. Hard at first but the kiss got softer and passionate. I slowly kissed him back, putting my hands on his chest. He let my face go and put his hands on my hips, squeezing them a little bit.

Out of breath I broke the kiss, his lips red and swollen, smirking. "So you don‘t hate me huh?" I grinned. "Oh shut up." He smiled back at me and kissed me again.

—

hope you had fun reading 🫶🏻

Masterlist

xoxo sarah

#mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott masterlist #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott oneshot #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott smut #theodore nott imagine #slytherin imagine #slytherin smut #slytherin boys #harry potter imagine #harry potter masterlist

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angelwonie · 4 months

Text

ME AND THE DEVIL || coriolanus snow

PAIRING: coriolanus x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 10.1k

GENRE(S): smut, fluff, slowburn, enemies to lovers, angst (if you squint)

SUMMARY: Coriolanus Snow is a difficult man to please. And yet you have overtaken his mind—you, the only person in the academy who seems to have no interest in him. But he is also a persuasive man, and he usually gets what he wants. There's only one problem: falling in love wasn't a part of the plan.

WARNINGS: SMUT [unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, degradation, praise, overstimulation, manhandling, edging, crying, breeding kink, brat taming?, coryo is mean but down bad], canon-typical violence, mentions of blood and guns, morally gray coriolanus

It started with a change of seats.

In the academy, students were assigned a study partner meant to last throughout the year. The partners were to sit together in the lecture rooms, write each assignment together and support the other in weakness. The goal of this premise was to keep all students attentive and growing—the academy hardly accepted laziness and not at all incompetence. In the top class which consisted of, as the name suggests, the academy’s finest students, the hunger for success stood stronger, and tolerance for failure—lower. Therefore study partners were as close to a lifeline as a student could come.

Coriolanus had no problem with that. Working with others, as vexing as it could be, brought on more pros than cons, especially when he was allowed to take the lead. And if anything went wrong, he was free to blame someone else for the outcome—though Highbottom never really believed him.

The Problem, which currently he referred to with a capital P in his mind, had begun when Dr. Gaul suddenly announced a change in the seating arrangement.

It came as a shock to everyone and frankly, turned the whole orderly system on its head. Livia was moved away to sit with Festus; Gaius with a clearly disdainful Arachne; and he—with you, a girl just recently having joined the top class and taken the spot of a guy who had moved down in ranks.

Originally, you had seated yourself next to Sejanus, in the only empty seat in the room. When Dr. Gaul walked into the room, they all stood. She told them not to bother sitting again and began reading the names of what was to become new partnerships.

Coriolanus could hear Clemensia letting out a groan of frustration upon her name being read out alongside Sejanus’. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop his smile from spreading at the misfortune he had evaded.

But it didn’t last long, this state of contentment, because soon his own name was read aloud—with yours.

Your face, as he noticed upon looking in your direction, had no distinctive emotion written across it. Your brows were ever so slightly raised, the corners of your mouth straight. You spared a single glance in his direction—glimmering eyes meeting his blue ones—then, without much reaction, strolled towards the seat which Clemensia had yet to vacate.

“I think you’re in my seat.”

It was the first time he heard your voice. It was far from gentle, but not exactly rough; clear, but not exactly loud. You were standing with your back straight, your bag at your side.

The sound brought Clemensia’s attention to your figure for a solid second before she turned to Coriolanus, brows furrowed.

“This is so stupid. Why would she separate us when she knows how well we work together?”

He didn’t have time to answer before you took a step closer, this time letting your lips spread in a smile. It revealed your teeth, but no cordiality. “You’re still in my seat. You can question the authority of our teachers another time, right?”

Clemensia, a little stunned, stood unmoving until Dr. Gaul shouted at her from the other side of the room. She took her things and with a last look of disbelief cast Coriolanus’ way, moved towards her own designated seat.

You placed your bag by the desk and sat down, legs crossed at the knees. Coriolanus did the same, although his eyes drifted to his right just a little. You looked a bit like a Greek statue, with your posture and expression so much like his own.

Dr. Gaul clapped her hands anew. “Well, what are you waiting for? Introduce yourselves!”

Coriolanus cleared his throat and you turned to him, a somewhat bored look in your eyes.

“Coriolanus Snow,” he said, extending a hand.

You didn’t take his hand. “I know who you are.”

You didn’t speak to him any more that day. Or the day after that. Or the next.

All he had was your name and the (maybe feigned) looks of boredom you seldom sent him. And a growing annoyance which came about each time he politely told you good morning and you replied in a dull tone.

Nobody knew much about you, which resulted in what students do best when met with lack of information—they make up their own. Livia Cardew claimed you were from district 1. Clemensia whispered to Coriolanus about how your place in the academy was most certainly bought by your parents. Festus Creed was utterly convinced your arrival was a test to see how long they would last alongside a girl who showed no interest in anyone and yet walked with her head high.

But the only rumor which held any truth to it at all was Arachne’s hesitant scoff about how she knew you before.

Livia immediately picked up on the statement and leaned forward in her chair. “You did? So she isn’t from district one?”

“No. But she might as well have been.” Arachne looked to the rest of them for a dramatic effect. “She’s a total bitch, anyway. That’s all there is to say.”

That ended the discussion.

One day, perhaps a week after you and Coriolanus had become study partners, you walked into the academy wearing the tiniest skirt he had ever seen. It was the academy’s uniform, only altered to be shorter and tighter, framing your hips perfectly and ending just about halfway of your thigh.

Coriolanus heard Clemensia scoff from where she stood by his side.

“Attention seeker.”

“Is that even allowed?” Festus asked, though it was unclear whether he meant vandalizing the academy uniform or how otherworldly your legs looked in the skirt.

Whichever it was, the answer was probably no.

On a daily basis, you were already pretty. He knew it and he was well aware the other boys also knew it from the way they eyed you like hawks when you weren’t looking. And, let’s be honest, you were never looking at any of them. So there was a whole lot of staring which Coriolanus caught every time, while you remained either oblivious or too stubborn to acknowledge the attention.

Now, he thought, you must be aware of it—at the very least.

He, personally, was painfully aware of it. Like an embarrassing Victorian man whose mouth waters at the sight of a woman’s ankles, he felt his pants were suddenly too tight. It was in a state of panic that he adjusted himself, clearing his throat. His hand squeezed the desk he was leaning against as he mumbled an incoherent reply that was just enough for Festus and Clemmie to continue their conversation without his input.

From over Clemensia’s shoulder, he could see Volumnia Gaul and Casca Highbottom strolling into the room.

“Dr. Gaul’s here,” he said, pointing with his jaw.

“Oh, right.”

The two of them walked away and Coriolanus closed his eyes, rubbing his nose bridge.

Once he opened them again, he was met with your frame approaching—and he almost jolted in surprise. Your hair was hanging loosely down your shoulders, pinned back on one side to reveal golden earrings. You took a step in his direction and he wondered what for—the distance between you was close to nothing.

“Move.”

Taken aback, he fought the urge to look around and see if anyone else had heard. But no, you were too far and class was almost starting; everyone was busy with themselves.

“Sorry?” he asked with a strained smile.

You sighed, looking vaguely annoyed. “You’re blocking my way.”

He grit his teeth, moving aside. You sauntered past him and into your seat, which he only now realized he had been standing in front of. Your skirt flowed behind you; when you bent down to place your bag on the ground he almost caught a glimpse of your panties. Almost. But what he saw was enough to fill him with rage that didn’t subside for the rest of the lesson—along with his boner.

“I personally think she’s nice,” Sejanus offered when Coriolanus mentioned your poor behavior towards him during lunch. Of course, he said nothing of his dick hardening—oversharing wasn’t his forte.

“Well, you don’t sit with her.”

“I did. And she was nice to me.”

He sent Sejanus a death glare which worked effectively to shut him up.

Coriolanus didn’t really care about your demeanor. It didn’t mess with his work—when you had to be cooperative, you were. And outside of class, Clemensia was more than happy to cling to his arm like a koala. The same went for Sejanus. What bothered him was that look—of disdain, boredom—the lazy way in which you displayed your distaste, like he wasn’t even worth an effort to hate. Because you didn’t hate him.

You just… didn’t care.

You terrified him. You made him see red. You made him react physically, for God’s sake. And he had spoken to you all of twice. How pathetic was that? Enough to stay forever in his thoughts, that much was certain. He was never going to say a word about this to anyone.

But worst of all was this: you liked Sejanus.

Whenever he saw you talking to anyone, it was either your friends from your old class or him. Sejanus Plinth, from district two, with nothing but irritating opinions and a fortune to offer. He saw you laugh at his half-developed jokes, look at him in total focus while he spoke.

One day, about a month after it all, when Highbottom showed no signs of letting them switch seats ever again, he decided to ask you about it. Dr. Gaul was currently strolling about the lecture room, monologuing, which gave him enough time to lean to the side, towards you.

“Seems like you and Sejanus have gotten quite close,” he said, loud enough for only you to hear.

If you registered his words, you made no signs of it. His eyes trailed lower, to your tiny, tiny skirt and the plushness of your thighs which he was free to look at but not allowed to touch. He clenched his jaw and tried again.

“What is it you want? His money?”

At this, your head whipped in his direction. His cool, blue eyes bore into yours and he could see anger, clear like black on a white piece of paper, in your gaze. Your shoulders were tense, lips barely parted. But this only lasted a brief moment—a glitch in your composure—before you straightened your back and grit your teeth into a feigned smile.

“And you? What do you want from him?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by Dr. Gaul’s piercing voice.

“Miss L/N and Mr. Snow! Perhaps the two of you will answer my question since you’re so deep in discussion.” The woman looked at the two of you sternly. “What is the point of the hunger games?”

You looked at Coriolanus, who seemed perfectly content in his seat. He had no intention of answering. Bastard. You folded your hands into fists and stood up. Everyone was looking, but only Coriolanus’ gaze made your heart thump against your chest. It felt as if you had something to prove.

“To keep the districts at bay.” With a glance towards Sejanus, you bit the inside of your cheek. “In a highly unethical way, of course. It hardly takes killing twenty-three children to prove a point.”

“District children. Remember that,” said Dr. Gaul. “You may sit.”

You obeyed, suppressing a sigh of relief.

At least it was relief until you felt a hot breath on the side of your neck, paired with Coriolanus whispering, “Liar.”

You looked at him, seemingly unphased, and let out a soft scoff. “If you didn’t like my answer, you should have said something instead.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, just that it was a lie. Don’t worry, though, I don’t think Sejanus can tell.”

Your jaw tightened indiscernibly. The boy whose curls were falling into his forehead gave a smirk, eyes trailing to where Sejanus was sitting and then back again. You just looked at him, unwavering.

“You know nothing about me.”

“And you know nothing about me,” he said, lips spreading to reveal his teeth. “Now we’re both liars.”

***

On the third of the month, the Plinths threw a party.

It was a large gathering, consisting mainly of the academy’s students and their immediate family. The occasion was unclear—unofficially, it was said the Plinths wanted to scout the students to see who was fit to win the Plinth prize. But it was just rumors. Officially, it was a celebration of the academy’s fiftieth anniversary.

After all it had endured—the rebellion, the war, Coriolanus Snow—a party seemed in order.

On the topic of Snow—you were terribly irritated by the way his words were swarming around your head like bees. Somehow, you had managed to remember his voice down to every shiver and for whatever reason, your brain wouldn’t let go of it. Even as your mother, with her eyes fixated on the mirror, smoothed out the length of your silky dress and asked if you liked it. Even as the two of you left the apartment. Even as you exited the car and walked up the steps to the academy’s ballroom.

“Nervous?” your mother asked.

“No.”

She pushed the doors open.

Coriolanus had showed up to the party in a fitted, dark suit along with his grandma’am right on time. Upon his arrival, he had scouted Sejanus somewhere in a corner with his overbearing parents, while Clemensia stood with Livia and her sister. You were nowhere to be seen as far as his eye could reach. His grandma’am dragged him around the room in search of conversation partners and somehow ended up deepening into a discussion with Mr. Plinth, leaving her grandson to fend for himself with Sejanus by his side. The farce lasted for about half an hour; he felt himself growing weary.

Then, you came in.

Fashionably late, as always, with your mother at your side, you strolled in like the entire party was thrown in your honor. And truly—he might’ve believed you if you said so, with the way your strapless dress sat around your curves.

In his peripheral vision, he could glimpse Sejanus swallowing hard. Coriolanus fought the urge to outright laugh at the ludicrous hope swimming in the eyes of his ‘friend’. He was reaching too high. Way too high.

“Y/N! What a relief, you’re here!”

It was the voice of Strabo Plinth that made you turn your head in the direction of their little clique. A smile spread over your face, but disappeared as soon as your gaze landed on Coriolanus. He watched carefully as you approached with your mother, the pearls on your neck glistening in the overhead light. Sejanus was still staring like a fool; Coriolanus felt his blood turn the slightest bit warmer, the tips of his fingers tingling.

“Mr. Plinth, Sejanus.” You sent the two of them a sweet smile, then cast a look at Coriolanus with your lips pulled tight. “Coriolanus.”

He nodded at you. “Sweetheart.”

You didn’t comment on his choice of word, but he could see your jaw tightening and your chest fluttering, pressing against the restraints of your dress.

Thankfully, it seemed nobody else had heard—Mr. Plinth was too busy gushing over yours and Sejanus’ friendship to notice anything else. Coriolanus’ shoulder bumped into yours and you shuddered. The conversation dragged on until Mr. Plinth was beckoned over by another group of people who looked like politicians, and wandered off with a cranky Sejanus in tow.

Left alone with Coriolanus and his grandmother, you began to plot your and your mother’s escape.

“Look, mom, there’s Livia. We should go say hi.”

You had taken less than five steps before Dr. Gaul’s voice reached your ears.

“Not so fast, miss L/N,” she said, a menacing smile on her face. She waved you and your mother over to where she was standing—right between Snow and his grandmother. “Surely your mother wants to meet the only gentleman whose grades are as good as her daughter’s.”

Your mother took the bait immediately, forcing you to follow her back to where you wanted so deeply to escape. “Oh, gosh, really? Coriolanus Snow, is it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He bowed his head, sending your mother one of his disgustingly gorgeous smiles.

“Now, Coriolanus and Y/N are my best students.” Dr. Gaul, more enthusiastic than you had ever seen her, pulled you and Coriolanus to either side of her, squeezing your shoulders. “And study partners, too. They work so well together. How about the two of you go for a dance?”

“Oh, I don’t dance—”

“Yes, Y/N,” your mother obliviously interrupted, “don’t let those five-year dancing lessons go to waste.”

Your face formed into a half-smile, half-frown. “Right.”

Coriolanus sent you a triumphant smile as he stuck out an arm for you to take. You hesitantly snaked yours through it, heart hammering as he led you onto the dance floor.

The song playing was irritatingly slow, and Dr. Gaul’s smile too wide for all this to be a coincidence, but you decided to let it slide—it wasn’t like you really had a choice. Coriolanus positioned you in front of him. From over his shoulder, you could spot Sejanus, to whom you mouthed a silent plea for help, but the boy proved useless when all he did was send you a smile and a shrug.

Coriolanus placed his hands on your waist appropriately and you hesitantly placed your own atop his broad shoulders. Although you made sure not to touch him more than you had to, the hardness of his muscles was prominent against your fingertips.

The distance between you vexed Coriolanus to no end—especially when he had seen you in a skimpy, tiny black dress all pressed up against Sejanus at Arachne’s birthday party. His fingers harshly tugged at your waist and he smiled in satisfaction at the way your body pliantly molded into him. A gasp threatened to escape you, but you held it back, instead swallowing quietly.

It turned out both of you were excellent dancers. Coriolanus sensed exactly when you were to make an unexpected move and was always able to maneuver you however he wanted.

Finally, you decided to speak—a five-minute song danced in silence would last an eternity. “Clemensia’s staring daggers into my back. Am I in danger?”

The blonde smiled. “Not at all.”

“How come?”

“I’ll protect you.”

You smiled incredulously, shaking your head. “I hope you have a knife underneath your blazer, then, because she looks dangerous.”

“I could snap her neck in half with one hand.”

The way he said it—no hesitation and total seriousness—made you choke on the laughter that was supposed to come out, replacing it with a burning sensation somewhere in the depths of your stomach. His hand, on the small of your back, fiddled gently with the lacing of your dress, then lazily moved back to your waist.

You cleared your throat. “I heard your father was a great man.”

“Yes.”

“I’ve also heard he was a terrible person.” You tilted your head to the side, putting on a curious expression. “So, which one is it?”

“Are the two mutually exclusive?”

At that, you laughed. Real laughter, with your head tipped back—laughter he had never heard before, not even when you were around Sejanus. Something swelled proudly inside his chest.

“Only you could say something so bizarre. But no, I suppose they’re not.”

He swayed his hips along with yours, then brought your hand up, signaling he wanted for you to spin. Whilst he swirled you around, you felt the tips of his fingers against your cheekbone, tucking something behind your ear. Once you were in front of him again, you brought your hand to touch the soft surface that felt like a flower.

“What is that?”

He raised one corner of his mouth. “A rose.”

“And why, pray tell, are you giving me a rose?”

He swirled you again, this time his fingers grabbing at the flesh between your clavicle and throat, pulling you against him. You felt his very fingertips, cold and soft, against your muscle, his hot breath against your left ear.

“To mark my territory.”

With that, he swirled you back and resumed the ordinary dance, with a deadpan expression and shining eyes, emitting an unidentifiable emotion.

Your cheek trembled, although you tried to hide it by tightening your jaw. “It’s picked from your garden, then, I suppose.”

“Grandma’am’s.”

“Really?”

Before you could do anything, he leaned forwards so the tip of your nose grazed his pulse. You stood stunned, taking a breath and being met with the strong smell of roses. You caught a glimpse of his collarbones, peeking out from underneath the two buttons he had undone in his shirt. He drew back before you could think to push him away, lips spreading into a smile.

“Those are also from our garden,” he murmured.

“Coriolanus…”

He liked the way you said his name this time.

Not arrogantly or carelessly, but like it was the most important thing in the world; a bar of gold in your hands. And the shiver in your voice—the thought it must’ve been the most delightful thing he had ever heard. He wanted— no, he deserved to hear it again, but it would have to wait. You were looking up at him the way he yearned you would, like he was impossible to ignore.

“Hmm?”

You smiled a strained smile, chest heaving. “The song has ended. I believe I should go dance with somebody else.”

Without awaiting a response, you released yourself from his grip and turned your back on him. He stood in somewhat of a silent shock.

And he felt it again, this immense anger because how dare you wrap your arms around Sejanus and convince him to a dance, when he’s standing right here, ready to rip anyone’s throat open to feel your body against him again.

After your dance with Sejanus, you scurried off to the bathroom, silently inspecting the rose sitting neatly in your hair above your ear. It was a piercing red, matching perfectly with your dress. You sighed into the mirror, rolling your eyes.

The rest of the evening was spent drinking champagne—too much of it, definitely, but who was counting the glasses which you picked up and later discarded?

Coriolanus, of course, but he was much too embarrassed to say anything and much too agitated and proud to even consider asking Sejanus to look after you. No, he’d rather see you pass out drunk than have Plinth take care of you—he could do that himself. But he didn’t. Not that day, anyway. He left the party somewhat early, assisting his grandma’am down the stairs although she claimed she didn’t need his help.

“What has gotten into you today? You’re too eager to help and you’re looking around like a lost district child.”

“I’m not, grandma’am. Get into the car.”

But before he could follow in her footsteps, he heard laughter—the same laughter he had heard for the first time just an hour earlier.

He turned automatically, without much thought, and felt rage well up in him as he saw you and Sejanus leaving the hall shoulder-to-shoulder, your respective parents in tow. You were clearly drunk, your steps unsteady.

Sejanus said something to you, apparently something you found funny, because you slapped his shoulder and laughed again. Unfortunately for you, the heels you were wearing weren’t exactly wasted-proof and gave out from underneath you when you moved your ankle to the side.

It took the slip of a second for you to tumble down the remaining four steps of the stairs, and another two for Coriolanus to catch you, his arms knitting tightly around your waist.

“Coriolanus,” you mumbled, at a loss for anything better to say.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

You shook your head, but he went out of his way to sit you down on the stairs and inspect your ankle anyway.

“Stupid girl,” he said, landing a barely discernible slap to the side of your thigh as he stood, having concluded you were alright. “Why drink more than you can handle?”

“I have a habit of getting in over my head.”

He looked down at you, the disheveled hair and still present rose which you hadn’t taken out yet, and smiled. Slowly, Sejanus and the rest of them descended down the stairs and Coriolanus turned to get in the car. But first, he sent you a smirk over his shoulder.

***

Dr. Gaul’s experiments were always interesting.

In the best cases, they were innovative and in the worst—fatal. None of the academy’s top class knew which one this one would turn out to be when they followed Highbottom into the laboratory.

“What if she kills us?” Livia, who wasn’t particularly fond of you but neither did she feel a particular distaste for you, whispered.

“She won’t,” you whispered back. “We have the president’s son in our class.”

“Right.”

The lot of you walked inside, scattered randomly until Gaul reminded everyone to stick to their partners. You heard Clemensia let out a prolonged sigh upon Coriolanus escaping her grip and approaching you instead.

He smiled self-importantly. “Y/N.”

“Snow.”

The smile faded marginally.

Dr. Gaul ushered everyone closer. A servant dragged off the thick, two-meter long piece of fabric covering what at first sight looked like an aquarium, but later revealed to be a cylinder of rainbow-colored snakes. Someone gasped.

You furrowed your brows and took a glance at Coriolanus, who in turn looked back at you. You were quick to avoid his gaze, but not quick enough for him to miss it.

Dr. Gaul sent you a half-enthusiastic, half-manic smile. “Now, everyone give me something of yours. Come on, I don’t have all day.”

Coriolanus moved first, which you didn’t mind until he grabbed hold of you and pulled you along.

“What are you doing?”

“What, are you scared?”

His eyes twinkled and you tore away from his grip. But it was too late; the two of you were standing right in front of the open snake habitat. You swallowed hard.

He reached into his pocket and fished out a pencil—golden and engraved with his last name—before handing it to Dr. Gaul. You followed suit, albeit hesitantly, and handed her an embroidered handkerchief.

The rest of the class did the same. Dr. Gaul received all the items, stacked them and instructed everyone to sit. Then she gathered it all into one big pile and threw it into the cage. Immediately, the snakes swarmed around the items, licking and slithering.

“These snakes,” Dr. Gaul said, “are lethal only when met with a taste they don’t know. Meaning right now, when they’ve touched your things, they are harmless. Come say hi.”

Nobody, including you, moved a muscle.

Obviously, everyone was busy figuring out why this was even an experiment if they were harmless—from what Dr. Gaul said it sounded more like a visit to the zoo. Next to you, Coriolanus furrowed his brows and stared the cage down with his icy eyes, inspecting.

“No volunteers?” Dr. Gaul sighed. “How about Y/N and Coriolanus?”

You froze, looking at Coriolanus with wide eyes. “You first.”

He tilted his head. “Ask nicely.”

Forcing a smile, you swallowed your pride.

“Please.”

He stood from the seat and you forced yourself to disregard his grin and the way his uniform strained around his back muscles.

Just then, as your eyes followed his steps, you saw something by Dr. Gaul’s feet, something shimmering in gold. You squinted at the object. It was barely visible, currently hidden in Coriolanu’s shadow. Coriolanus walked up to the cage and the overhead light fell onto the object, revealing what looked like something engraved. The letter S. The letter N. The letter…

“Coryo, wait!” You shot up from your seat. Coriolanus looked at you in bewilderment as you grabbed his wrist roughly. “You can’t touch them. Your pen isn’t in there.”

“What?” His gaze dropped to the golden pen at your feet.

You looked at his face, as if to make certain he was whole, then at his wrist in between your shaky fingers. How embarrassing, the way your body had grown so hot and how tragic, the way you had made a scene. You wondered what Coriolanus was thinking, with his mouth parted and eyes on you.

Dr. Gaul clapping her hands together brought you back to reality. “Quite impressive, miss Y/N. I must admit, your reaction time was even faster than predicted.”

You turned to her in disbelief and maybe a bit of anger. “You did it on purpose? Why?”

“Why, to see if you were willing to save Mr. Snow here.”

“That’s absurd, I would have done it for anyone!” Your face grew hot as you ripped your hand away from Coryo’s wrist, as though burned by his skin. “And what if I hadn’t noticed?”

“Then I would have known I made a mistake letting you into the top class. Regard this as a little test, if you will.” She sauntered happily over to you, where she stopped to whisper in your ear: “And for your information, miss Y/N, yesterday these snakes got familiar with mr. Snow through an assignment. I would never put him in danger, so calm your heart.”

Dr. Gaul proclaimed the class dismissed and left—left you to stand in utter shock for at least ten seconds. Then, before any words could escape Coriolanus’ mouth, you followed in her footsteps, practically running out of the room.

After this incident, you avoided him.

He noticed immediately, the lack of you in the hallways when he walked through them and the tenseness of your expression in class. Every time you showed up in those tiny skirts and paid him no mind, he resisted the urge to throw you over his shoulder. You had to be put in your place, certainly so—with the way you were messing with his head. A threat, but he chose to look past that, just this once. What he couldn’t look past were your plush thighs, pretty lips and addicting aura.

Once, after school had finished, he cornered you in an empty classroom in which you were rummaging through your bag, clearly searching for something.

“Looking for this?”

You jolted back, looking at him over your shoulder and at the kays dangling from his fingers. As your face grew hot, you turned your back to him again, suddenly not so keen on finding the keys.

“They must have fallen out of my bag,” you mumbled.

He inched closer, until his chest was against your back and he could drop the keys into your bag. They rattled—the only sound in the room spare for your breathing.

He craned his neck to mumble against your earlobe, “How come you’re avoiding me, my sweet?”

You turned again.

“I’m not avoiding you.” You huffed at him, raising your head high. “Why would I avoid you? I simply don’t care for your presence.”

The side of his lips twitched. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I have class. I need to go,” you said, before realizing in terror that you’d both just had the last lesson of the day—of which he was fully aware. “I mean…”

He took a step and you went silent. His hand cupped your jaw harshly, pointer finger and thumb on each respective side of it. He pulled you closer by his grip.

“I thought I told you not to lie,” he said, squeezing your cheeks. “Did it not register in that pretty head of yours?”

Your lower lip trembled deliciously, eyes tinted with a hint of fear. “Coriolanus…”

“Call me Coryo. Like you did that day with the snakes.”

There was a change in your expression: widened eyes turning normal again, lips curving into a soft smile as you pried his hand off. He let you, god knows why. Maybe because everything turned uncalculated when he was around you or maybe because he wanted you to listen to what he said.

But you just said, “I’ll call you that when you earn it.”

His blood boiled.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to make demands, sweetheart.”

“Sejanus is waiting for me outside, Coriolanus,” you said, putting your hand on his shoulder teasingly. “I don’t want to keep him waiting.”

He grit his teeth. “Do you think this is a game?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Is it?”

He held his outburst enough for you to leave—then, he punched the nearest surface and let out a loud groan. A threat, definitely. A dangerous one. But he’d tear it out of you—these sensations similar to his that he knew you felt.

And how could you be of real danger to him when he was just as much of a threat to you?

***

When Dr. Gaul and Casca Highbottom announced an ‘educational school trip to district eight’, everyone thought they were joking.

They were, in fact, not. They took the train for almost ten hours—by the end of it, everyone was weary and irritable. Dr. Gaul told everyone to pay special attention and care to their partners and make sure they were safe, and despite the tiring trip, Coriolanus took on his task with the utmost importance.

“What are you doing?” you asked him as he, for the third time, slung his arm around you to pull you away from passing wagons.

“Protecting you, like Dr. Gaul told us to.”

You snorted a laugh. “I’m sure she didn’t mean from horses.”

“Horses can be dangerous.”

You just rolled your eyes. His arm stayed draped around your shoulders for the rest of the walk. When you arrived at the inn, Coriolanus leaned close to you abruptly and placed a kiss on your cheek. Before you got the chance to even think of protesting, he was gone.

The next day all of you were to join Highbottom in his speech in front of the district people.

It was a simple stage made of wood—the people stood spread out on a small square in front. There were almost too many to fit.

You, as students, were not supposed to do anything in particular other than stand there and look pretty. Coriolanus made the effort to assure you you were splendid at it already, his fingers fanning over your waist. It sent shivers down your spine, and he smiled in self-satisfaction. You cursed him for his perceptiveness as the two of you walked onto stage.

Coriolanus was far from relaxed as his eyes scanned the crowd. You just had to wear that godforsaken skirt in front of a bunch of starved men. If he could, he’d tear all their eyes out. Starting with that brown-haired asshole in the first row. As Higbottom began his speech, Coriolanus walked up to you and stood purposefully a bit in front, as though to cover you.

“Is it not impractical to wear a skirt today?” he asked, sending you a pointed look.

“It’s quite warm,” you replied, blinking up at him. “Do you not like it? I wore it for you.”

He clenched his jaw, heart swelling in pride. Of course he liked it—a little too much to be considered appropriate—but not for everyone to see. He leaned down almost indiscernibly, but you felt his hot breath fan your lips.

“When I’m president, nobody is going to see you in that skirt except for me.”

You grinned. “When you’re president? What exactly is the extent of your ambition, Mr. Snow?”

“You are.”

His pupils were expanded, fingers snaking to hold you by the waist. If anyone noticed, he didn’t know, but it didn’t really matter anyway. His fingers found their way under your uniform and he observed attentively as your eyes widened, teeth sinking into your lower lip when he caressed your bare side.

“Okay, everyone, let’s go,” Highbottom said, signaling his speech was finished.

Coriolanus let go of you. The lot of you moved, surrounded by peacekeepers until you reached the truck ramp. You walked first, carefully placing your steps.

But you only managed to take three of them before something—someone, to be precise—pulled your leg to the side and you fell.

Your brain barely registered the pain of your bare knee hitting the ramp before you were no longer on the ramp, but the ground. An ache spread along your side. Coriolanus shouted your name as he jumped down from the ramp, despite Highbottom’s screams at him to stay but.

The man who had pulled you down, who Coriolanus recognized as the hungry-eyed man from the first row, pulled out a knife from his pocket. He lounged just as you froze, unmoving spare for the trembling of your lips. Coriolanus grabbed him and pushed him down; but not before he had managed to sink the knife into your calf. He heard you scream.

“Help her!” he roared at the peacekeepers, who had their weapons raised at the man who was trying to get up from the ground, but weren’t firing.

Coriolanus, enraged, ripped out the gun from one of the peacekeepers’ hands. He heard some words of protest but ignored them entirely as he pulled the trigger. And again. And again. And again. Until the man was more holes than flesh.

“Help her, for fuck’s sake!” he roared again; this time they listened and gathered around you.

He spared only a glance at your bleeding figure, then turned to the rest of District eight’s crowd—the part of it that hadn’t thought to flee the scene—and fired again. He heard Sejanus shouting, he heard Highbottom shouting, he heard Dr. Gaul shouting, and the peacekeepers gathered around him like flies, but he listened to none of them. He fired and fired until the magazine was empty and someone tore the weapon out of his hands.

“Coriolanus,” you whispered.

Only now did he fully look at you, at the cut in your leg and at your frightened face. He ran over, relieved nobody tried to stop him, and kneeled next to you along with a clearly useless peacekeeper. There was blood on his white shirt, but not on his fingers when he ran them over your thigh gently. It didn’t look like a deep cut, but it was bleeding a lot.

“It’s okay, Y/N, you hear me? Listen to me!” He grabbed your tear-stained face with one hand and turned it so you were looking into his eyes. “You’re gonna be okay. Don’t close your eyes.”

When you didn’t reply, he shook you a little bit. “You’re alright, okay?”

“Okay, Coryo,” you said meekly.

He nodded and tore a piece off his shirt to wrap it below your knee. He was angry, unbelievably so, and felt if he didn’t look at your face now and then he might kill all of them: the peacekeepers, his fellow students, Highbottom. He bore a hatred for them all. But you were the priority; you needed saving.

He heard you whimper, using one hand to hold at his shoulder.

“Why did you…”

He cut you off. “Don’t talk. I’m gonna fix this. You’re okay. Keep your eyes open.”

You obeyed for as long as you could, for as long as it took for the medics to arrive and carry you away; then, you let yourself drift off.

***

When you first woke up, you were met with Coriolanus’ perceptive eyes staring back at you.

“Coryo?” you asked.

“How do you feel? Does it hurt?”

You wanted to answer, but your mouth felt as if it were made of lead. Coriolanus shouted for the nurses to bring you water, yet before he had even turned his head to you again, you were fast asleep. He sighed.

***

The cut wasn’t deep.

That’s what the doctors from district eight said, their heads hung low in shame. You were alone upon waking this time, spare for the nurse they had left to take care of you.

“Coriolanus,” you said. “Where is he?”

“He just left to get some rest, ma’am. We sent him away for an hour fifteen minutes ago. He’d been sitting here all night.”

“I want to see him.”

“It would be unwise to deny him his sl—”

You stood up and walked out, much to the nurses’ dismay.

After a ride to the inn in which all of you were staying, you walked into the hallway that you knew belonged to the boys.

You had no idea where Coriolanus’ room was, but thankfully you met Sejanus just as he was leaving his room.

His eyes lit up as he saw you. “Y/N! You’re okay, thank god. I was so wor—”

“Where is Coryo?”

He stopped, smile falling the littlest bit. “Last room to the left.”

You smiled and patted his shoulder. “Thanks.”

You knocked on the door three times and stood silent, waiting. After half a minute, you heard his voice—husky and deep—telling you to come in.

He was standing by the window, looking out at the desolate district eight. The back of his new shirt was just barely holding out the strain his muscles created as he crossed his arms.

You cleared your throat. “Coriolanus.”

Clearly not expecting it to be you, Coriolanus turned on his heel, sporting a smile as he saw your face. You had changed clothes—another tiny skirt and shirt adorned your body. You were walking without difficulty, just like the doctors had foreseen, perhaps even more confidently, with your head high.

He expected you throw yourself into his arms, or maybe pull his hair and kiss him, but he absolutely didn’t expect you to cross your arms over your chest and ask him:

“Have you lost your mind?”

“Sorry?” he asked, frowning.

You took a step back, biting the inside of your cheek. “What have you done? What have you done, Coriolanus?”

He looked into your eyes in search of disgust, terrified, but found only worry. You were worried for him. Not them, not that man, not your reputation and the rumors—you were worried for him.

His gaze flicked down to your bare legs, no scar left from the incident, and then up to where your stop was squeezing your tits together. Did you come in here to scold or seduce him? He really could not tell.

He took a step in your direction, reveling in the way your resolve was starting to fade, lower lip trembling. “I was protecting you.”

“You didn’t have to kill him! You didn’t have to kill them all like animals!”

At this, something switched. He snorted, almost mockingly. Against your will, you felt your panties getting sticky when he walked closer and closer, until he had you backed against the wall. One of his hands rested next to your head while the other he ran over your cheek, stopping to cup your jaw.

“You don’t think he would have aimed higher if he’d gotten the chance? You don’t think you’d be dead if it weren’t for me?” His hot breath landed on your lips and you swallowed. He dragged his finger along your lower lip and you opened your mouth obediently, making his lips curve into a smile. “Now be a good girl and say thank you.”

Your legs rubbed against one another subtly. “Thank you, Coryo.”

“For what?” He slapped the inside of your thigh, making you jolt.

“For protecting me.”

His fingers crawled up your thigh to soothe the place he had slapped, rubbing small circles against your sensitive skin. It was embarrassing, how damp your panties were and how you had to press your lips together in order to avoid letting a whimper slip. The poor lighting cast shadows on his face, blonde curls falling just above his eyes.

He was devouring you even though he’d barely touched you.

“You’re trembling,” he said, eyes twinkling.

“It’s the cut.”

He tsked, shaking his head in faux disappointment. “Liars don’t get rewards, sweetheart. I thought I’d made that clear.”

He saw your nipples straining against the thin fabric of your shirt and tightened his jaw. You were here to seduce him, definitely. His desperate little girl. Funny how you had such a dirty mouth until his hands were on you—then, you seemed to go entirely limp and thoughtless. One of his hands snaked to the back of your head, the other stayed touching your thigh—too far away from the place you wanted it to be.

“Kiss me,” you pleaded, standing on your tiptoes to reach him, but he just pulled you down by your hair.

“No. Not until you beg me for it.”

You scoffed shakily, reclaiming the very remnants of your dignity. “I won’t beg you for a kiss.”

He pressed his chest against your sensitive tits, pulling at your hair so your noses were touching.

“Don’t I deserve it after everything I’ve done for you?”

“I didn’t ask you to do it.”

“But you liked it,” he remarked, sliding his warm hand up your shirt, until he could fiddle with the hem of your panties. His fingers tapped against your clothed pussy only once, making you jolt, before returning to the spot between your hip and leg. “You liked having someone kill for you. Just as you like when I touch you and when I care for your attention.”

“I don’t—”

“I think you’ve had a little too much being a brat, though. Now it’s my turn.” He slapped your pussy through the fabric and this time, you didn’t manage to hold back a whimper. “Beg. Me.”

“Please,” you whispered, face hot.

“What was that?” He pretended not to hear, leaning down even more. You wanted to punch him for his self-importance, for his cruelty, but it was what you craved, too—you’d take everything he gave you, although you’d never say it out loud.

“Please kiss me.”

His hands left you entirely before they cupped either of your cheeks. Your heart hammered in excitement watching Coryo’s eyes feeding on the sight of you. He lowered his head slowly, connecting your lips so softly you almost didn’t feel it. You tried to grab his collar and bring him closer, but then he just pulled away and sent you a pointed look which made you retract your hands.

Then, he kissed you again—this time pressing harder against you, making your eyes flutter shut. His fingers held you softly, as though you could break any moment, but his lips enveloped yours like he had been waiting for the opportunity for years.

You opened your mouth immediately as he licked at your lower lip and he hummed in appreciation. His fingers tilted your head as he slipped his tongue inside. He was hot against your own tongue, swirling and exploring, not letting you breathe out anything except small, timid whimpers. He smelled like roses, tasted like them too.

Your hands wandered to his broad shoulders, then down his clothed chest, his solid muscles against your fingertips. They flexed underneath your touch, a throaty groan of Coryo’s disappearing in your conjoined mouths. Your mouth watered at merely the thought of seeing them bare, seeing him.

Coriolanus pulled away only when he had to take a breath—angry at this humane obstacle in his way but soothed upon seeing your swollen, parted lips.

“You’re nothing without me,” he rasped out, trapping your jaw between his thumb and pointer. “Say it back.”

You looked at him through hazy eyes. “I’m nothing without you.”

He pushed you against the wall, lips against your jawline. He sucked a mark into your neck and you mewled out his name, tangling your fingers in his hair. His tongue ran over your throat, then swirled around your collarbones as he pressed wet kisses to them and your stomach.

Once he reached the waistband of your skirt, he dropped to his knees, looking up. You felt something turn in your stomach; the heat between your legs intensified tenfold.

His fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties and pulled them down your legs languidly. Once gone from your body, he picked them up and dangled them in front of your face. You tried snatching them from him, but he just stuffed them into the pocket of his pants.

“For later,” he said, smiling. “To remind me what a desperate little girl you are.”

“I’m not—”

He cut you off by bunching your skirt up around your hips. The cold air made you shiver lightly, but his eyes set on the most intimate part of you like he was about to eat you didn’t really help, either.

Before you could look away from embarrassment, he dragged his nose through your slick folds. You let out a choked gasp as he came in contact with your clit. His hands slid up to your upper thighs, squeezing and prying them apart so you weren’t in the way for him to take his time. And he did take his time—painfully so.

After almost five minutes of aimless fingers trailing over your cunt but never touching for too long and never on your clit, you let out a loud whine, legs fighting against his grip to close. To no avail, of course—Coryo was much stronger than you and very intent on keeping you in place.

“Be patient,” he murmured into your heat. His eyes flicked up as a warning and you instantly stilled.

His tongue finally touched you in the form of small kitten licks on your clit that made your breath ragged and fists tighten. He saw you tightening around nothing, heard you whining pathetically for more and mercifully let his tongue enter your warmth. You clenched around him immediately.

He pulled his mouth off of you momentarily to look up at your pretty face twisted in clear rapture.

“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?”

When you didn’t answer, he brought down his hand to swat at your clit disapprovingly. You squirmed at the contact, slick practically dripping out of your cunt. His eyes met yours and you quivered, suddenly afraid he’d stop.

“Yes,” you whimpered. “So much.”

As a reward, he pushed two fingers into your pussy, watching as you gasped for air, furrowing your brows. He scissored them a little bit, then dipped his thumb into the arousal coating your cunt and let it rub small circles into your already puffy clit.

Your legs felt weak already and he must have sensed this, because he grabbed your thigh and positioned it on his shoulder. This way, he could curl his fingers enough to hit the spot which made you whimper so loudly it was shameful.

Soon, his thumb was replaced with his mouth that sucked your tiny clit into his mouth.

He heard you moan his name and felt his pants tighten significantly. Part of him hoped everyone could hear the noises you were making, while another part of him felt the urge to murder anyone who dared even overhear these sounds that were innately his possession.

From his position, he could see your tits brushing against your thin shirt and cursed himself for not being in a spot that would allow him to play with them. He’d have to settle for playing with your cute little cunt.

Your legs started shaking when he added another finger to pump in and out of your dripping hole.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, hips bucking into his face. “Feels so good, Coryo, thank you.”

A guttural moan of his vibrated through your body and you cried out his name. A warm coil began tightening in your lower stomach. It was clear you were close—from the way your whimpers had grown unabashed and squeaky, the way you clenched around his long fingers, the way your hips stuttered against his tongue.

“Oh my god, Coryo, I’m so close— Can I come?”

So polite, he thought. Shame you only acted like this when his tongue was flicking at your clit.

His eyes glimmered as he looked up at you. “Only if you ask nicely.”

“Please, please, let me come, please, Coryo.” You let out a broken moan as his teeth grazed your clit. “Please.”

Your legs spasmed around his head as you felt it close, so close, and your eyes fell shut in pleasure.

But then it was ripped from you, this bliss, as Coriolanus pulled out his fingers and retracted his tongue, leaving you empty and stunned. You stared at him, lips parted, and at the self-satisfied smile adorning his features.

“What, you really thought I’d let you come when you’ve been acting like a brat?” He licked his fingers and something throbbed between your legs. “Stupid girl.”

He stood up, turning his back on you. You couldn’t see it, of course, but he was silently counting the seconds it took for you to protest against the treatment. Finally, you retrieved your consciousness in full and pushed yourself off the wall.

“Wait, Coryo,” you pleaded, grabbing his arm. “Please. I’m sorry.”

He turned, raising his brows. “You’re sorry?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry. I’m gonna be a good girl now, I promise.” Your lower lip quivered; he saw the promise of tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m gonna make it up to you, okay?”

At this, you sank to your knees—a sight which made his adam’s apple bob. But he was getting impatient; his cock was aching painfully and when you looked at him with eyes widened and teary like this, he was willing to give you anything in the world.

“Get up,” he demanded.

You did as told, thighs trembling slightly, and his hands cupped your cheeks. Coriolanus led you to the bed in the middle of the room, hovering above you with his forearms on either side of your face. His hardened cock rubbed uncomfortably against the fabric of his pants. He laid it against your plush thigh for relief, but all he got was a slutty mewl from you and more precum leaking from his tip.

“Sejanus is next door, you know. You don’t mind?”

“No.” You shook your head eagerly. “I don’t care. Just want your cock.”

The side of his mouth lifted as his hands slipped under your shirt. You gasped as his fingers found your nipples and pinched them, tantalizing your poor clit to start throbbing harder. He pulled the skimpy shirt over your head and threw it away somewhere, letting out an audible groan at the sight of you. Next to go was your skirt.

He stayed staring at you for some time before he suddenly landed a slap to your cunt, making you jolt with a whimper. Then, he leaned to press open mouthed kisses against your throat, sucking the skin that covered your pulse into his mouth.

His lips grazed your jaw. “You want him to hear, then? Is that it?”

“N-no,” you whispered shakily, feeling the tips of his fingers teasing your perky nipples. “No, Coryo, just want you.”

“Say it again.”

“I want you, Coryo, only you. I’m yours.”

Coriolanus let your fingers slip under his shirt, letting out a shaky breath as you traced his abdominal muscles. He helped you pull it over his head, then he pulled down his pants and briefs as well. You watched hazily at his cock free from its restraints, certain if he’d tease you anymore you would start drooling for real.

Thankfully, he wasn’t in the mood for teasing—he slapped his dick against your clit once, twice, watching you squirm, then positioned himself at your entrance.

Your foreheads touched as he pushed inside agonizingly slowly.

“I’m yours, too,” he whispered against your mouth.

He was decently thick and longer than average—even lying still in your cunt, he reached places your fingers couldn’t dream of. Your eyes had a hard time staying open in facing the fullness which came with having him inside, but he was having none of it.

“Look at me when I fuck you,” he said.

“But you’re not even fucking me.”

You felt his cock pulse inside you before his hands roughly grabbed your thighs and pushed them up against your chest. This newfound angle was overwhelming in itself—when he additionally began thrusting his cock in and out of your cunt, you saw stars. You let out small noises, but he paid them no mind, leaning forward to have a good look at your face.

“Who knew the academy’s best student was such a fucking slut?” he tilted his head, ignoring your nails clawing at his biceps. “Guess words aren’t enough, hmm? I need to fuck that arrogance out of my sweet girl?”

You didn’t reply; he didn’t expect you to. His cock found that spot that made your toes curl faster than you could have expected. When he hit it for the first time, you let out a whimper close to a shriek in volume. Instead of slowing down, he just went harder, his hips slapping against yours in the otherwise silent room. He thought Sejanus probably was able to hear it all.

It was easy for him to slip his thumb between your parted lips; even easier to coax you with a gentle slap to your slack jaw to suck on it. Your mouth wrapped around it and he groaned, pushing your thighs further against your tits. He saw your eyes glossing over, felt your poorly suppressed moans against his finger.

And god, you were so compliant to his touch, so perfect.

“Spread your legs,” Coryo said, moving his hands away.

You obeyed to your best ability, practically letting your thighs fall limply at your sides. He spread them further and sank deep into your dripping pussy. Your slick had made a mess of the sheets below, creating a small puddle in the white material.

His fingers grabbed both of your wrists and placed them on your lower stomach. One of his hands kept them in place while the other played with your sensitive nipples, twisting them until a couple tears escaped your eyes.

“Don’t move your hands.”

When you nodded weakly, both his hands grabbed your waist, guiding you back and forth to meet his relentless thrusts. He could see the vague outline of his cock in your stomach, your tits bouncing deliciously before him with each abusing rut into your cunt.

“Good girl,” he mumbled, lightly tapping at your clit.

Your walls sucked him in like it was all you were made for, fluttering around his cock and leaving a creamy ring at the base of it. He wanted to fill you up—not only with his cock, but with his cum, wanted to watch it leak out onto this bed, wanted to hear you beg him to stop. Him, only him. He wanted you forever.

Coryo leaned down to connect his lips to yours, teeth napping at your lower lip. You were whimpering, mewling his name, and he tightened his grip on your waist. He pushed you further down on his cock, again and again.

“How does being the first lady of Panem sound, huh?”

You just nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks in reaction to his cock bullying the gummy spot in your cunt.

“Yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asked, rubbing tight circles into your clit. “I’d give you everything you want. You hear me, sweetheart? Everything.”

His hips rutted into you so roughly your vision was hazy, but clear enough to grab at his sturdy shoulders. You had disobeyed what he said, but it seemed he was unaware, chasing his own high.

His cock was thrusting into the right spot repeatedly, fingers maneuvering your clit so that you almost screamed, slick practically gushing out of your hole.

“Fuck,” you whined out, feeling your pussy pulsating. “Coryo, I’m—”

“Yeah, I know. Come for me, sweetheart.”

You let go and so did he—seed spilling into your cunt as you clenched around him. You sobbed his name and in an attempt to soothe you, he planted kisses along your collarbones. He let you ride out your orgasm against his hand before he pulled out.

Vaguely, you could see his cum spilling out of you and onto the sheets.

Before you could even make an attempt at calming down your heart rate, he stuck two of his fingers into you again.

“Too much,” you whimpered, but he paid you no mind, stuffing his cum back into your swollen cunt. Too tired to move, you let him do it, only mewling his name softly from time to time.

Once he was done, he licked his fingers clean and smiled alluringly. You scooted closer to kiss him—he tasted of you and him combined. His hands cupped your face as you both lay down, facing one another.

“You’re nothing without me, either,” you said, running your finger down his exposed chest. “Mr. President.”

His grin widened. “That’s right, sweetheart.”

TAGLIST: @peterpan-neverfails @urfavevirgoo @sayyysss @hwajin @hoshiseon @atrwriting

also big thank you to kathy, kiza and lex for being my enablers! ilyy

#coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #tom blyth smut #tom blyth x reader

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suugarbabe · 8 months

Text

the 'anything but' party | m.r x reader

prompt: it’s a gryffindor (maybe) party but it’s acc a theme party. the theme is dressing up as another house and reader (not a slytherin) borrows some of the boys’ quidditch clothes (like a bomber jacket or a jersey) and theo/mattheo get super jealous even though reader and him aren’t together. but it’s like he’s been after her for the whole year but she likes to play hard bc he normally doesn’t have to make any effort to have whoever girl he wants at his feet, and she doesn’t want to be just another girl, if you get what i mean? so she just shows up wearing another guys’ name and he goes feral.

word count: 2.2k

warning: angst, smut, heavy smut, 18+ MDNI!!

You were okay with parties. You weren’t ever overly obsessed with them, but the party tonight you were particularly excited about. It was a theme party. The theme being any house but your house. Very typical of the Gryffindors to throw something that will likely cause absolute chaos, but you were here for it.

You threw on the jersey you had borrowed from Enzo Berkshire. You had a few classes with him and was even partnered with him in potions last year. When you heard about the theme he was the first person you went to. You asked if you could borrow his jersey for the party and he was more than willing to loan it out to you.

As you threw it on it fell to about mid thigh. You thanked Merlin for Enzo’s height because now you could just wear his jersey as a dress. You turned to Luna, who had borrowed a bomber jacket from Blaise, “How do I look Lunes?”

She tilted her head, smiling and clasping her hand together, “You look marvelous! I think it would’ve suited us well to be sorted in to Slytherin.”

You laughed a little, “Yeah, I do quite like how I look in green.” Your thoughts drifted to another Slytherin that would be able to accommodate your new favorite color.

“Thinking about Mattheo?” Luna’s voice cut into your internal monologue and your cheeks instantly flamed.

You did your best not to stutter over your words, “I don’t, erm, I mean why do you ask?”

In very Luna fashion, she made no comment about you being flustered, her voice fluttering out like a feather with simple observation, “I only ask because it’s obvious that he likes you very much. It’s quite sweet, really. Are you going to finally tell him that you like him as well?”

You couldn’t help but stare at her dumbfounded. You figured your constant rejections to Mattheo’s advances made it appear to everyone that you did not reciprocate his feelings. That wasn’t actually the case, but you wanted to make him work for it.

Girls came far too easy for Mattheo, basically throwing themselves at him. It was vomit inducing to you at times, how blatantly obvious they would be and how he essentially cherry-picked whatever girl he was feeling that particular moment.

You weren’t going to be one of those girls, you absolutely refused it. So when you first noticed Mattheo staring at you at the beginning of the year, you just rolled your eyes anytime they connected to his.

The first time you did this, his eyebrows shot to the ceiling, not used to this type of response from a woman. When he tried to stop you after class, you quickly shot your hand up before he could even get a word out, “Not interested, Riddle.”

He was met with a chorus of “ohhhh’s” from his friends, which likely died down quickly due to a glare or threat from the scorned man. He tried again after that…and just about every other day from that first moment you rejected him until this morning.

You weren’t blind, you knew Mattheo was attractive. Hell, you’ve known since the bloody sorting ceremony in first year. But the way that all of the girls swooned over him, and how he so obviously ate it up, you vowed to never be that girl.

So for the last six years, you never really paid him any mind. You knew he was there, you knew his reputation, but he never really consumed your thoughts. So when he started staring at you, then starting actually pursuing you, you couldn’t quite understand why your heart would beat faster, or get butterflies in your stomach.

You had boyfriends throughout your school career, even dating the quidditch captain of your house, but something about Mattheo focusing solely on you like he has made your stomach flutter like no other guy you’d been with. You weren’t even with Mattheo, but him pursuing you essentially deterred any other guy from coming up to you.

Finishing your hair and makeup, you and Luna joined a few other Ravenclaw’s and headed to the Gryffindor common room. Walking through the portrait hole you would think there was nothing going on, but as soon as you passed through the entryway you broke the silencing charm barrier and was assaulted with the sound of bass and smell of weed.

You looked over at Luna, who took a deep inhale, “Don’t you just love that earthy smell?” You couldn’t help but laugh at her care-free spirit. “I’m gonna go get a drink, do you want one?” Luna nodded, telling you she was going to find Blaise and to look for her in the usual spot.

Heading to the drink table you spotted Enzo who was adorning a Ravenclaw cardigan. You had a little skip in your step, sidling up next to him and grabbing cups for you and Luna, “Well hey there, looking dashing in blue and bronze.”

He smirked at you, leaning against the table while you got yourself a drink, “Looks like you were sorted into the wrong house. Green definitely suits you.” You turned to him, a drink in each hand, “Thank you, Enzo.”

He held an arm out, “Shall we? I’m assuming you're not doublefisting tonight and one of those is for Miss Lovegood?” You let out a laugh, nodding and following him to the back corner where his gang of miscreants resided. You both were simply walking next to each other. Your hands were full with both drinks and while he only had one his other hand was flailing around in the air as he recounted aspects of the last Slytherin quidditch game.

So when you reached the group, you were surprised that Mattheo’s face was set in a scowl. You quirked an eyebrow when he finally met your eyes, which took a moment as his were apparently taking their sweet time scanning your body, his eyes rolled, scoffing slightly and leaning back on the couch.

You decided to be bold tonight, Luna’s voice from earlier in the back of your head. You greeted the others, then went and sat down next to Mattheo. As soon as your ass hit the chair, Mattheo scooted a few inches away from you. You told yourself not to be hurt by this, but he had essentially been trying to be all over you for the last month and a half.

“What’s wrong with you?” you turned to face him, one leg now on the couch, causing the jersey you had on the ride higher on your leg. Mattheo’s eyes cast down briefly, seeing more of your skin exposed before meeting your eyes again.

“What are you wearing?” His eye contact was intense, making you squirm a little. “It’s a theme party, I’m wearing Slytherin clothes.” He let out a huff of air through his nose. You narrowed your eyes at him now, asking him again, “What’s your problem?”

He pinched the number that laid just above your left breast, your breath getting caught in your throat with how close his hands were, “You’re wearing Enzo’s jersey.” You couldn’t quite place his tone but it sounded almost like…jealousy? This made you smirk a little and now the wheels in your mind were turning.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I thought it looked cute.” Your hands caressing the side of your body to the hem of the jersey. You saw his eyes follow your hands as you roamed your body, now focused on where your hands played with the hem, “And it’s so long on me I didn’t even have to wear any panties.”

You saw the clench in his jaw, and you’d be lying if you said the action didn’t send a searing heat through your body. You started to pull the jersey higher up your legs, just to tease him a little. His hand shot to your wrist, “Stop.” You smirked at him, “What’s wrong, Teo?”

The nickname was something new you were toying with and it seemed to have the effect you were looking for as the grip he had on your wrist tightened. He placed his other hand on your thigh, using it as leverage to lean closer to you.

His lips ghosted the shell of your ear, goosebumps rising along your skin, “It’s gonna be really hard for me to fuck you with Berkshire’s jersey on.” Your cheeks immediately turned red. You turned your head, staring into his eyes, faces so close your noses are nearly brushing against one another. Your heart was beating out of your chest, you feared he could hear it over the bass of the music.

Your facade was failing, quickly. The desperation you were feeling was more extreme than you could control. “Kiss me,” you requested, eyes not leaving the brown ones you were gazing at. He laughs softly, smirk adorning his face as his eyes flicker down to your lips.

Normally that type of cockiness from him would have you leaving Mattheo there hot and bothered but tonight you found yourself leaning towards him with just as much anticipation. His mouth slotted against yours, he tasted like cigarettes and firewhiskey. You latch onto him, fisting a handful of the hufflepuff cardigan he chose for the party.

When you finally pull away, lungs burning for air you can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face. Mattheo’s lips were red and swollen. You look at him with big eyes, silently telling him you wanted more than was possible in the open common room.

Mattheo glanced around, searching for a solution. He stood up quickly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the stairs to the dorms. He led you down a hall, opening the first door he could find and pulling you in behind him.

Before you could even glance around the room Mattheo had you pressed against the door. His arm circled your waist, sliding down the small of your back before grabbing a handful of your ass, his mouth attaching itself to your neck, sucking at biting at the soft skin there. The action had the most obscene noise leaving your throat.

His grip on your ass tightens, holding you flush against his body as he tucks a knee between your legs. You whine at the contact, the fabric of his trousers grazing against your bare clit. He braces himself with his free hand on the door, resting his forehead to yours, “Merlin, I’ve been wanting to make those noises leave that pretty mouth of yours all year.”

You open your mouth to respond, fully prepped to give a witty retort when he pressed his leg against you again. A whimper leaves your throat this time and Mattheo looks cockier than you’ve ever seen him.

You gripped his forearm, “Teo…please.” You looked up at him through your lashes as his hand dipped under the jersey, fingertips feather light on your skin. “So needy, love. Had to wear someone else’s jersey just to get me riled up, hmm?” His head dips down, lips grazing the sensitive skin where your neck and collarbone meet.

He bites you lightly, nipping and sucking at the skin there, surely leaving his mark in a place where it’d be hard for you to hide, claiming you as his. You’re basically grinding yourself on his leg now and Mattheo thinks he can cum from the sight of you using him for your own pleasure.

“So wet, love, can feel you through my trousers,” Mattheo grabs your hips, stilling you against his leg emitting another whine from you. “You gonna be good f’me, love?” he was teasing you now, but that didn’t stop you from nodding pathetically.

He dragged the material of the jersey over your hips, a gasp releasing itself from your lips as the air hits your bare center. Your teeth are sinking into your bottom lip and Mattheo drops to his knees. He puts one of your legs over his shoulder, your hand shooting to his shoulder to brace yourself as his tongue licks a stripe up your dripping cunt.

A mewl spills from your mouth and you swear you can feel him smirk against you. Without warning he plunges two fingers deep inside you, your back arching off the door and into his touch. His free hand grabs your hip, stabilizing you against the door.

He flattens his tongue, dragging it from his fingers inside you back to your sensitive nub. Your other hand flies to his curls, fingers laced and pulling harshly. This only spurs him further, curling his fingers inside you. They rut against your g-spot, pressure building in your lower belly.

You thank Merlin for the loudness of the party because the sounds Mattheo was getting you to make were sinful. His lips are attached to your clit, mercilessly sucking and licking and humming against the bud.

Your legs are trembling and Mattheo’s grip on your hip tightens, your vision begins to blank, mouth hanging open in a silent scream, you can’t even cry out, your mind dizzy with anything but the bliss that Mattheo is giving you between your legs as your tumbling over the edge.

He continues to eat you through your orgasm, overstimulating your clit as he slowly removes his fingers. “Fuck, Teo,” you breathe, trying to catch your breath as he lowers your leg from his shoulder.

Mattheo stands, mouth attaching to yours immediately. You moan into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. He trails kisses along your jaw, down your neck then up to your ear, “Now let’s get you out of this fucking jersey.”

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle fic #mattheo riddle angst #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #golden era #harry potter

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fuxuannie · 1 year

Note

Wanted to request maybe hsr men with a partner that's their exact opposite?

* pairing(s) : various hsr men (i actually do all of them i promise) x reader

* prompt : opposites attract, amiright?

* authors note : so you may have noticed a bit of a.. redesign.. in my layout 🙏 but hi requester!! here u gooo ♡ cleaning up my requests sweep sweep. also thank you for 200 u guys r crazy omg.

* brief warning : blade is blade, sssadism if u SQUINT RLLY HARD.

(my love for gepard rlly shows in this im sorry. HABSGJABA 😭😭!!! some r rlly long.. ooc.. or short.. sbsndhsks HANDGSHWS i love gepard IM SORRY HES PRETTY BOY)

DAN HENG appreciated his silence and alone time, you however, could not go 5 minutes without his supervision.

While he liked to plan and execute said plan perfectly, you were reckless and went into anything head-first with worrying about the possible failures later.

And because of this, Dan Heng was protective over you. He was a gentleman after all, and he would do the same for March 7th back then, so it's no surprise he'd do it for you now. Especially with your tendencies to get yourself into unnecessary fights.

It aches his heart, you know? Having to see your wounds and bruises as he patches you up. But you've made a compromise to give him the equivelant amount of kisses equal to the bandages he put all over you. (and there were A LOT)

Even if you make him worry 24/7, he'll still love you. It's not bad to have a chance of pace after all.

JING YUAN is a man with many routines, calm and collected, with many worries on his shoulder.

You were more outgoing, a trailblazer who rode the express and were the one helping people with their worries.

He was always surprised with how helpful you really were in your first meetings, not that he doubted your abilities, but didn't expect someone to be able to do his asks as well as you did.

What didn't surprise him was how he fell for you, the way your heart was always pure and gold, and you lived a life to protect and help others.. he admired you. You were his inspiration, his muse, to be a General with that kind of care for his people.

When you two decided to date, Jing Yuan had to get used to your impulsive actions. He was always used to doing the same thing everyday, but with you? He found himself doing 50 other things before the next part of his schedule.

Not that he minded, he likes the excitement, and he really really likes you.

GEPARD, the Silvermane guards leader, falling for his sisters co-performer.

He LOVED to watch you perform or practice, Serval always saw him with such a love-struck smile, head resting on his hand as he sat and watched his sisters and you practice. She'd tease him about it afterwards, calling him loverboy and such, but he never confirmed nor denied her teasing about him liking you.

Sometimes the guards would hear him humming your part of a song or the general tune of a melody you play, considering how much he watched you, it was no surprise that you were stuck in his head like a popular song.

He quite literally, loved you like a love song, because it's ALL he ever listened to. He'd be in bed, white shirts and shorts, his arm covering his eyes as he listens to the CORNIEST love song and smiles while doing so because he thinks of you.

When you two started dating, he was quick to realize your differences. He was a leader, an intimidating figure, and had goals and missions he swore on his life to constantly follow and pursue even outside of work hours.

You on the other hand, unless you're onstage, you're pretty shy. Not really standing out in a crowd when you're in your civilian clothing, and you liked it that way. Almost like you lived a different life from your almost idol-like persona.

Gepard did find it incredibly cute though, how you'd have an explosive personality infront of a crowd. But with him? You were at the mercy of his soft kisses and his chuckles as your face turns warm from fluster.

SAMPO was the COMMON ENEMY between the Overworld and Underworld.

Okay, maybe a bit of an exaggeration. But YOU?? Natasha's sweetest nurse and sibling?? with the likes of HIM??

He was a liar, seemingly the type to decieve people who put their trust in him, only to repay them randomly out of nowhere with random treasure maps or save them from tight situations. It seemed like any suspicious activity was ALWAYS tied to him.

You, on the other hand, worked with your sister in her clinic. Often times praised for your kindness and patience, how amazing you were with children and people in general. Nobody would've expected that you fell for him, hell, he didn't expect it either.

But you saw that somewhere, in that heart of his, he truly did care about his friends and loved ones. Somewhere buried in his rather annoying antics, were the intentions of someone who was just worried for the others well-being. He proved it to you when he caught you crying in a dark alley, wiping your tears as you were so tired and overworked. He listened to you for hours on end, and he got to see a side of you that you didn't show to people, and vice versa. You saw the side of him people thought they'd die to see exist.

WELT YANG was always rather serious at times, with his status and achievements, people expected it of him.

You were his closest companion, one of the few he had left from his journey, but you were also his partner. Despite being just about his age, you were so calm, so gentle. Compared to his seemingly stern nature.

You loved plants and flowers of the such, always telling Welt about the newest one you learnt from a new planet on each expedition through the galaxy. You warmed his heart with how you spoke, explaining each and every plant with such detail. He loved it whenever you spoke, 'music to his ears', he'd tell people. Anyone would be enamoured with your voice and way of speaking, he admired your intelligence, but more importantly, he admired you.

BLADE.. with Kafka's partner in crime?

Kafka can't say she's surprised, hell, she'd love you too. But the pairing was rather odd.

Blade was monotone, cold. His stare as sharp as daggers, and could care less about those he hurt.

You, on the other hand, found immense joy in hurting others. A wicked smile on your face whenever you're permitted to do so towards anyone who dare stand in their way.

Whenever you two would kiss, the difference once again shows. You're clearly enjoying it, but Blade's expression is blank. But I guess don't judge a book by its cover? As the kiss he initiated is passionate and intimate, he's enjoying it I promise, he just doesn't show it.

Either way, you're both stuck babysitting Silverwolf most of the time. Oh well, more time with him.

#✹ ִֶָ ꐑꐑ entos paw prints #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #jing yuan x reader #gepard x reader #gepard landau x reader #sampo koski x reader #sampo x reader #welt yang x reader #yang welt x reader #blade hsr x reader #blade x reader

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signedkoko · 5 months

Note

Heyo! I return!!!!

Could I get a mammon, blitzø and alastor (separate) with a wife reader who’s really oblivious and ditzy? Sorta like a bimbo?

🦷 anon! <33333

Alastor | Blitzo | Mammon [Romantic]

In which their partner is extremely oblivious and ditzy.

Well, that's what he was here for, isn't it?

To make it look like you know what you're doing, to be the reason or you little 'show'

According to the public eye, if you're his partner then theres no way it's not a character, Alastor would NEVER date a clutz, let alone have the patience for one

Alastor found these little whispers amusing

Everyone thought they had some idea of what he was, but they were always throwing darts at the wrong board

All the better for him, he gets the joy of you making every day new and exciting as well as the strange rumours people came up with about the two of you

Everyone else was just so boring, so pitiful to the overlord

Either kneeling to his every wish, or putting on a face until he left them alone, or the rare run away screaming

But when you bumped into him on the street, you asked him if he was that 'one guy who tortured people and put it online' before you even apologized

Then you asked if he would kill you, and when he said yes, you asked if he could not

Oh yes, that made him laugh alright, you were such a cracking star

Anytime you might ask something stupid, he turns it into a joke and explain it to you later behind closed doors

Falling? tripping over yourself? He catches you and makes it look like a romantic dip, or a small dance

To him, you're cluelessness has its charm, because you've always been so honest and forward about everything that he doesn't ever feel like he has to pull secrets from you

You also amuse his every little quirk, which everyone else just finds weird, so that's a major plus

Oh my god he is so stupid

But you make him look so smart it's insane, just add you to the room and suddenly he's a genius

At first, it was just by comparison, but now in order to compensate for you he is always trying his best to be the smartest he can be

Especially in his line of work, Blitzo doesn't like the idea of making a mistake that could cost your life

So instead he trains to make sure he can save you when you need it

You guys are very damsel in distress/knight in shining armour

Except this kind of backfires because him being so serious starts to get him caught a lot...and you always manage to get him out (usually by mistake)

Like that one time you busted into a room full of 20 armed demons and dropped your gun when they came at you, but it went off and landed in a crate of explosives

I mean both of you were very injured but you both got out soooo

" You really are the dumbest slut I know, my sweetie-pie. "

He gets really defensive about you, though

Sure, he’s your husband so he can make fun of you

But if anyone else calls you anything along the lines of stupid or useless he blows up on them

Sure, you're a bit oblivious, but they don't know your talents, and all the things you teach him behind closed doors

He won't let anyone get away with being cruel to you

A little bit of a roger rabbit and jessica rabbit duo

Honestly exactly his type

Extremely wealthy husband and his bimbo wife?

The newspaper headlines go crazy for you guys and your strange duo, and a lot of photos of the two of you together are popular

Sort of funny looking tree man and his dolled up wifey

He's not really the brightest either, not when it comes to simple things that don't have to do with money or his status

So you are both very oblivious to things that aren't entirely straightforward and always have to whisper back and forth about a topic until you can figure it out

Two idiots in love

Nevertheless, he loves your dependance on him

He likes that you are always by his side in case you need help, so you are safe and sound

He's just as clingy as you are, he always has one arm around your waist

Calls you all sorts of sort of derogatory pet names but in a loving way

Dolly, sweetheart, gorgeous, legs, etc etc

Honestly though you are also probably explaining as much to him as he is you, just in different topics

But he has the confidence to go with his lack of knowledge and obliviousness

And confidence gets you far

" Yeah, like, the moon is full once a week or some shit "

" Isn't it once a month? "

" No doll, that's how often a blue moon occurs. "

" Ohh! Like once in a blue moon? "

Anyone overhearing this shit is fucking rolling in their grave

Author's Note - Hiii welcome back tooth anon!!! Sorry this took a hot min, for some reaosn this prompt was so hard for me but I REFUSED to give up (Never sleep never what!?!?!) Thank you for requesting, and I hope you enjoy!

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #blitzo #blitzo x reader #mammon #mammon x reader

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rainyreading · 3 months

Text

Hatred - Theo Nott

theodore nott x reader

wc: 3.0k

a/n: requests open

(my gif)

Unfortunately, your alarm didn't go off this morning so you were running late for breakfast. You cursed to yourself as you rushed to get ready. The already early morning turned you into a sour mood. You were pissed off because you were late.

By a miracle you were able to get to the dinning hall just in time to get some food. When you arrived you spotted your usual table with your friends. You sat down in the only empty seat next to Pansy and across from Draco.

You had a scowl on your face and started serving yourself some food.

"Ah look who finally graced us with her presence," Draco announced.

"Shut up Draco," you hissed.

Draco put his hands up in defense. Then you noticed Theo snickering. He then whispered something to Draco which you didn't hear what it was. Typical of Theo you thought. Yeah you didn't like each other. In fact you hated each other. But you had to tolerate each other for the sake of your friend group.

"What are you blabbering about Theo?"

"Your robes are on backwards, princess." Theo grinned smugly.

God you hated him, and how embarrassing! You quickly waved your wand and muttered a spell that put your robes on facing the correct way.

"Wipe that smile off your face, would you!" you barked at Theo.

"Pansy would you pass me a muffin?" you asked.

"Sure," she replied, then she handed you a chocolate chip muffin.

Theo rolled his eyes and you gave him the middle finger.

You ate breakfast and did your best to avoid Theo. It was pleasant for the most part. You sat talking to your friends about the day, about anything really.

Next, you went to your classes. Your fourth class was potions. You went to sit down at your usual table, mentally preparing to do schoolwork.

Professor Snape went on and on about different kinds of potions, it made you bored outa your mind.

"Alright class listen up please. I'm assigning a project you will have a partner for. The two of you will work together to create a Dizziness Draught."

"I put a list of who you're paired with by the door," Snape finished.

By then end of class you were itching to get out. You did however stop by the door to see who was your partner.

"Y/n, y/n, y/n..." you whispered scanning for your name.

You finally found your name and you dragged your finger to the other side of the paper only to see the name Theodore Nott starring back at you.

The feelings you felt inside you made you want to gag. How could this be happening? Theo as your partner. How horrifying.

Theo strolled up to you while you were standing there in shock, "Looks like we're partners, can't wait," he shot you a wink, which you gave him a look of disgust in return.

—————

Unfortunately, the next day in class you had to work on your project. Theo was there at the chosen table waiting for you. You had a look of displeasure on your face as you walked over.

"Alright let's get this over with," you spoke.

"Aw don't you love me," Theo teased.

"Quite the opposite actually. I find you repulsive," you gave him a tight lipped smile.

"Funny, love." Theo said coolly.

"Don't call me that or I'll hex you!" you warned.

"Alright bossy boots let's work on the assignment."

"Gladly."

The two of you worked quietly trying your best not to fight. The project wasn't that hard but it would take a few days to complete, which you were dreading.

Eventually the potions class ended and it was time for lunch. You wanted to sit as far away from Theo as possible. So you snagged a seat at the end of the table.

After a few minutes Pansy joined you and sat down across from you.

"What are you doing way down here?" she asked.

"I'm avoiding Theo," you responded.

"Really why?"

"He's annoying and I don't want to see him," you explained.

"Aw really. I think you guys would be cute together!" Pansy announced.

"You've got to be joking. Are you crazy? I hate him and i'm pretty sure he hates me." you spoke astonished.

"Are you sure about that, I think he likes you. Why else would he bother you so much," Pansy smirked.

"You're delusional. There's no way," you scoffed.

Despite denying it, you couldn't stop thinking about what Pansy said. You were deep in thought, wondering how it was possible you never saw or thought of it before.

You did your best to get it out of your mind but it was harder than you thought.

———————

After a long day you headed back to your dorm to take a shower. The day took a toll on you so you were excited to have time to unwind. You hopped in the shower and washed away the day.

When you got out you did your nightly skincare routine. Your hair was in a towel as you did it. When you took your hair down, to your horror you saw that your hair was green.

"Oh my god!" you screeched.

You looked in the mirror in shock. You moved side to side to see if your whole head was covered and it was. Who could of done this?! You were going ballistic. How could this of happened? Did I do something wrong?

Frustration settled in the pit of your stomach. How were you going to get this out? This problem would have to wait til morning. You were tired from the days events and needed rest.

Angrily you got into bed and pulled the comforter up to your chin. You went to bed thinking about how you were going to face everyone.

—————

When you woke up you were dreading the days events. You were expecting everyone to laugh at you and you wanted to hide away in your dorm forever.

Reluctantly you got up and got ready for the day. Your roommate came out from the bathroom and when she saw you she gasped.

"Oh my merlin what happened to your hair?!" she asked shocked.

"I'm not totally sure. My hair was normal then i took a shower and then it wasn't. It's a monstrosity I know," you frowned.

"It's not that bad," your roommate laughed.

"Yes it is and you know it," you argued.

"There has to be some sort of spell to fix this," you grumbled.

"I'll look in the library for you and see if I can come up with something," she offered.

"Really that would be great, in the mean time i'll just wear a hat," you announced.

Hesitantly you went to the great hall after you finished getting ready. You hoped your hat wouldn't draw a lot of attention to your hair. You were walking down the hall when you got shoved hard.

You almost hit the ground from the force of the shove. Your books came crashing down to the floor. The person that hit you couldn't of gone far. You looked around to see Theo on the side of you laughing.

Theo gave you a smug look before saying, "Watch where you're going!"

You frowned at him and went to pick up your books. In the process of doing so Theo ripped off your hat and tossed it to the floor.

"Theo! What the hell!" you shouted.

"What? Now everyone can see your green mess," he smirked.

"How did yo-, Wait a minute did you do this?" you gestured to your hair.

Theo smiled proudly, "Yes I did, green is your color."

Little did you know Theo snuck into your dorm and put hair dye in your conditioner.

"I'm gonna kill you!" You started to chase Theo and he was faster. He of course had your hat that he picked up off the floor, that you desperately needed back.

Theo ran straight into Ms. McGonagall. Who didn't look too happy. "What's all the ruckus about hm?" She gave her look of disapproval.

"Nothing really we're just having some fun," Theo lied.

"Your hair Ms. Y/L/N," she stated shocked.

"Yeah you can thank Theo for that," you crossed your arms.

"You did this?" McGonagall asked.

"Yes ma'am," Theo bowed his head.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to give you detention," she said sternly.

"You as well Ms. Y/L/N."

"What did I do?" You questioned.

"You haven't turned in your transfiguration essay."

"Oh," you sucked in a breath through your teeth.

"Yeah see you both at the end of the day, now get to class."

"Great I have to spend time in detention with that prick!" you thought to yourself.

When McGonagall was out of sight, Theo pulled your hair and said, "See ya later greenie, looking forward to it." And with that he was gone leaving you completely and utterly annoyed.

—————

The day was long. There was a handful of people making fun of you and teasing you in every class and at every meal time.

Unfortunately, your time in detention with Theo was coming up. You were dreading it. Spending an hour or more with no one else but Theo was torture.

You were beyond pissed, with him for messing up your hair. You wanted to get him back, you just didn't know how. With revenge on your mind you walked to Ms. McGonagall's classroom.

When you arrived Theo was already there. You rolled your eyes at him and took a seat. The professor explained your jobs to do during detention and you got to work.

McGonagall left the classroom to attend to some other business, leaving the two of you alone. Great. Just what you wanted. You simply decided to ignore him if he tries to talk to you, busying yourself with your task.

Theo kept stealing glances at you from across the room. Truth be told Theo liked you. A lot. He just didn't know how to express his feelings. So he bothered you trying to get you to notice him.

Theo fancied you from the very beginning. The moment he saw you he know he was done for. He didn't know how to act around you because he thought you were too good for him. He felt like he didn't deserve you. So he decided on being rude rather than nice to make himself stand out.

If he ever did catch your eye he would treat you with respect and be loyal, loving and kind. Now that he had you all to himself in a room with no professor he was excited. This was his chance. All he had to do was not to blow it.

"For what it's worth I think your hair looks good," Theo announced.

Your head shot up as you looked in Theo's direction. "Your joking right?" you responded.

"No i'm serious," Theo frowned.

"Yeah right," you scoffed.

Theo let out a sigh. How was he going to do this? How was he gonna make you believe he is serious about you given the history of him being mean.

"We're alone together might as well make the best of it," Theo reasoned.

"And what do you suggest we do?"

"Well maybe we could ask each other questions?" Theo suggested.

"Why would I do that with you?" You stated appalled.

"Because there's nothing else to do,"

You had no idea why Theo was being civil. It just made you suspicious. You wondered if he was having ulterior motives.

"I'd rather eat rocks," you bit out.

"Come on Y/N," Theo begged.

"I hate you," you spat.

"I'll go first, what do you like to do on the weekends?" Theo asked.

"I'm not doing this Theo," you hissed frustrated.

"Please," Theo begged.

"You know what whatever. I like to read and hang out with my friends," you gave in.

"Interesting. Now it's your turn to ask a question." Theo explained.

"Ok. If you could only drink coffee or tea for the rest of your life, which one would you choose?"

"Um personally Im a tea man, definitely tea."

"That makes sense you seem like a tea guy," you shared.

"Ok let's see. Do you believe in second chances?" Theo questioned.

"Um to an extent yeah."

"Alright um what are the things you wish you could easily forget?" you asked.

"Well my family life it pretty messed up so probably my childhood memories," Theo answered.

Ms. McGonagall came walking in and she said we were free to go, before you got a chance to respond.

Theo smiled at you before he left and you felt an odd feeling in your stomach.

——————

After a couple of days later your roommate found a spell to change your hair back. You were beyond relieved to get rid of the green. It was nice to have your hair back to normal.

It was time for another Hogsmeade trip. It was a Saturday and you were excited to go with your friends. You started walking there with Pansy, Draco and Blaise. Theo just happened to be there too walking behind you.

You were in your way to Honeydukes, wanting to get some sweets for the week.

Adrian Pucey came up to you on your way to Honeydukes. He interrupted your conversation with Pansy, and said, "Hey Y/N, you look really beautiful today."

You had no interest in him at all. You were quite repulsed. But you decided to be polite anyway.

"Thank you."

"Would you like to get some butter beer with me at the Three Broomsticks?"

"Are you asking me out?" you asked confused.

"Well yeah I am." Adrian smiled.

Little did you know Theo was clenching his fist behind you because he could hear every word. How dare someone else ask you out. You were his and his alone even if you didn't know it yet.

"I appreciate the gesture but no thank you, I'm really sorry," you apologized.

"Oh come on one drink, please," Adrian begged.

"Adrian I said no," you huffed.

"Fine. Your a slut anyway," he spat.

Just as the words left his mouth, Theo pushed past you, and grabbed Adrian by the collar. "What did you just say?" Theo was fuming.

"I said she-she's a slut," Adrian stuttered.

"Yeah that's not gonna fly," Theo's fist collided with Adrian's face. Theo then got him on the ground and was on top of him punching him.

"I'm not afraid of you Nott," Adrian croaked out.

Draco and Blaise could see Adrian getting beat up and bloody so they knew they had to step in. Draco got one side and Blaise got the other and pulled Theo off of Adrian.

"Let me go! Let me go!" Theo yelled.

"I'm not gonna hit him I swear!"

Draco and Blaise looked at each other uncertain if they should let him go. Before they could make a decision, Theo broke out of their grip and dragged Adrian and got him up against the wall.

"If you so much as breathe near her I will kill you, now get out of my sight." Theo seethed.

Adrian scrambled away in pain holding his bloody face. You stood there in shock at what just happened. Theo stood up for you. But why? You were beyond confused. You didn't want anyone to get hurt over you but you couldn't help think what Theo did was kind of sweet.

Theo thought that he should of made Adrian apologize to you. Theo was raging. You were perfect in his eyes. You could do no wrong. Then here was some guy calling you names just because you wouldn't go out with him. How absurd.

Theo was no where to be found after that. You wanted to thank him for standing up for you. You decided to go to Honeydukes and then the Three Broomsticks with Pansy.

When you were leaving the Three Broomsticks you saw Theo leaning up against a wall. You told Pansy to go ahead and that you'll catch up with her later.

"There you are," you spoke.

"Here I am," Theo responded.

"I wanted to thank you for what you did back there. I mean you didn't have to beat him to a pulp but, thanks for standing up for me," you expressed.

"Aw it was nothing," Theo nonchalantly replied.

"You didn't have to do that but you did. Why?"

"Well um I don't know how to put this but I like you."

"What?"

"I like you." Theo put out.

"You have a funny way of showing it," you began.

"Look I know I haven't been the nicest to you but that was because I felt like I didn't deserve you and I was pissed off. I wanted to stand out from all the other guys," Theo explained.

"You didn't have to be mean, I notice you now," you whispered.

"Oh cara mia, I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry. From now on I promise to treat you with love and respect. You deserve the world and more and I'll do my very best to give you that," Theo pleaded.

You walked up to him and put your hands on ether side of his face, and kissed him. The kiss was soft and tender. The delicate kiss turned into a heated one. Theo was relieved that you kissed him. He needed it.

You were confident and excited. Your lips were locking together in a devouring kiss. Theo pulled away to grin at you and then he dived back in bringing fire and passion to the kiss.

Theo's chest felt warm and he could feel the blood rushing through his veins. Your stomach was tingly and your heart was palpitating. Theo's hands were resting on your hips.

One of your hands on his cheek slid back into his hair. You slightly tugged on his hair and Theo groaned into your mouth.

As you continued to make out Theo took hold of your upper arms and switched placed with you. So now you were up against the wall. Your lungs were clenching and you needed air so you reluctantly pulled away.

Theo was out of breath when he said, "your mine forever got that?"

918 notes · View notes

slayfics · 7 months

Text

You fall asleep on Katsuki.

You got onto the bus excited to get off of your feet. Your class had just finished an off-campus training exercise and was now heading back to UA. The training which required sparing with your classmates left you exhausted.

You were the last to climb onto the bus, as you had sustained some nasty injuries after the training. You moved slowly up the bus steps feeling your body scream at you. Scanning the seats left over, there didn't appear to be many options left.

Of course one of the open and closest seats left was the one next to Katsuki. Whatever, you thought, and made your way over to sit next to him.

It wasn't that you disliked him the way the rest of the class did, but he was the sparring partner who had left you in such bad shape today. It would have been nice to get some space from him.

The bus started up and began to move. Luckily Katsuki wasn't much of a talker. He stared silently out the window making it easy to ignore him. You felt your whole body sink into the seat, your muscles thanking you for relaxing. You leaned your head back against the seat.

"You good?" You heard Katsuki ask next to you.

"I'm fine," you replied. Although in actuality your whole left side felt like it was on fire. Katsuki had landed a direct hit on you, an exceptionally strong blast from just a short distance away.

"Thought you were gonna dodge that last hit dumb ass, I wouldn't have used such a strong blast," he grumbled still looking out the window.

"I said I'm fine," you responded back shortly. Your eyes were beginning to get heavy and you just wanted to nap.

"Yeah whatever," he said and fell back into silence.

You let the hum of the bus and the rocking moments of the road lull you to sleep. The bus went over a bump large enough to throw off your balance from leaning back against the seat, but not large enough to wake you up. As a result, you landed resting your head on Katsuki's shoulder.

Katsuki jumped silently surprised and looked down to see you were knocked out and hadn't leaned on him on purpose. "Ugh-" he grunted in annoyance but looked back out the window deciding not to disturb you.

Mina sitting in front of you guys had not stopped talking to Ochaco since she sat down. She turned around in her seat to ask you a question, when she noticed you knocked out and resting on Katsuki.

"Awe how cute!" She exclaimed.

"Shut the hell up! I'm only allowing it because I beat them down pretty hard today," Katsuki barked at Mina.

"Mhm~ ok Bakugo," she giggled and turned back around.

"Tch-," Katsuki grumbled and looked back out the window.

Katsuki yelling at Mina had disturbed you enough to become slightly aware of what was going on, but not enough to shake you fully awake. You became aware of the sensation that you were lying on Katsuki's shoulder and realized you must have fallen over when you fell asleep.

You were surprised he didn't kick you out of the seat the second you fell over and leaned on him. You decided to play off being sleepy and wrapped your arm around his and dragged it down bringing his shoulder into a more comfortable position for you to rest on.

"Hu?," Katsuki turned to look at you nuzzling up to him. "You're really testing your luck, you know that? If you drool on me I'm kicking your ass off this seat," He barked.

Ah- there it is, you thought laughing internally.

Katsuki leaned his head back against the seat, and you allowed yourself to fall back into a deep slumber.

After some time the bus finally arrived back at UA. Students began to get off and once again Mina turned around to look at you both.

"Ah! Uraraka look!" She exclaimed, pointing to you two.

Katsuki had fallen asleep as well but instead of his intent on keeping his head rested back against the seat, the bus movements caused him to lean into you. His head now rested on top of yours.

Mina quickly took out her phone and snapped a picture, alerting Katsuki to wake up.

"The hell?" He blinked hard and noticed the camera in his face. "The fuck are you doing raccoon eyes?? Give me that damn phone I'm going to explode it to hell!" He yelled.

"Do what you want but it's already on my story," Mina teased, sticking out her tongue and pulling down her eyelid.

"We better go!" Ochaco said, nervously pulling Mina off the bus.

Katsuki’s moment and yelling had shaken you awake. It took you a second to come back to consciousness and realize the situation. You pulled your phone from your pocket to check the time and realized a notification of being tagged in a photo from Mina.

You curiously opened the notification and were greeted with the sight of a picture of you and Katsuki passed out asleep leaning on each other. Your face instantly flushed.

Katsuki looked down at the picture on your phone, "Those damn extras need to learn how to mind their business," He spoke, irritation laced in every word.

You nodded not knowing how else to respond. The truth was you loved this picture, and you knew you would stare at it until it disappeared from Mina's story. That was until a moment later when Mina sent you a text with the picture and a message that read "You're welcome ;)".

"Come on let's get off this damn bus," He said motioning for you to get out so he could too.

You got up and made your way off the bus, Katsuki trailing right behind you.

"Alright let's go, I'll walk you to Recovery Girl she'll have some burn ointment that will help with that," Katsuki said, eyeing your left arm that he hit with a strong explosion.

"Awe, it's cute how much you care Bakugo," You teased him.

"Shut the hell up! I just know if I don't take you you'll be too stubborn to go on your own. I know how much of a wimp you are with anything remotely doctor related," He laughed trying to retort back but you could see through his ruse.

Katsuki wasn't the type of person to vocalize how he felt, ever. Instead, he showed it with actions, and even then he would try to disguise it as if it was a bother to him. Like it was something he couldn't stand doing. However, you knew better, it was too easy to tell that Katsuki just struggled with these types of things.

Whether it was how he was raised or something he experienced in his past, affection, and kindness didn't come naturally to him so he showed it in unique ways that the average person might miss. You wondered how many people weren't able to see past his temper and understand him. It made you sad to think about how many people he might have accidentally pushed away. And you wondered, how many people didn't take the time to understand?

"Thank you Bakugo, I appreciate it," You said, smiling at your classmate.

“Yeah yeah, don't think too much into it or whatever," He said as he began to walk towards Recovery Girl's station.

Thank you for reading! I smiled a lot when writing this one hehe~

Tags~

@unofficialmuilover @snowmist-hashira

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faraway-archive · 4 months

Text

Sleeping n' Fucking

Yan(ish)!Nerd x GN reader

Tw: cnc/dubcon, somnophilia, semi-degrading

AN; didn't proof read/edit and please welcome my nerd OC <3

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

Your teacher has decided to do a partner project right before the school semester ends. Fortunately for you, you got a partner who you sorta know. You have seen him a couple of times outside of the classroom, but never really talked to him a lot. So you went and sat next to him.

"Hey, your name is Luka right?" "Yeah, that's me. Nice to meet you. Do you want to meet at my house to work on our project together?" "Yeah sure, that works." "Alright. See you then." "See you."

As soon as you finish the conversation, the class has ended and everyone left. Luka slowly followed you from behind. Avoiding your line of sight, he made sure that you made it safely to your next class. Classes went by and you were finally able to meet up with Luka again at the end of the day.

"Hey, hop into my car I'll drive us to my house." "Alright."

Once you arrive at his house, you follow him to his room and sit down on his bed. Looking around at the posters and decorations. While you were looking Luka left to make some snacks and tea. Of course, he added something to make you sleepy and drowsy. He is giggling inside as he anxiously mixes the drink and carefully brings it up back into his room.

"Hey, sorry for taking so long, here is your drink and some snacks." "Oh! Thanks."

You take the drink and slowly sip it. Luka sits next to you and pulls up the project requirements. Both of you threw ideas at each other to see what the project could be about to make sure it fit the criteria. After both of you agree on what to do, you start to feel sleepy and drowsy. Of course, Luka takes notice and his dick starts to harden. The more you fight to stay away the more obvious his bulge is. He carefully guides you to his pillow and watches you fall asleep as he turns his back to you, trying to pretend to work on the project. As he glances back at you after a couple of minutes, you have fully fallen asleep and groans as he watches you. Looking so peaceful and innocent. He feels slightly bad but he's tired of watching guys flirting and or talking to you so that guilt quickly washes away. Carefully taking off your clothes, giving petals of kisses as he removes each piece of clothing. Sighing at the beauty of your body. His dick keeps twitching and he finally undresses himself.

He aligns himself in front of your entrance and rubs his pre-cum all over your hole. Sighing and biting his lip as he slowly enters your hole. Holy shit it feels so good to him as your hole clenches onto his dick. Giving you kisses as he keeps slowly thrusting back and forth. It feels so good seeing how weak you are underneath him. After thrusting slowly he picks up the pace and starts going ham. Groaning as he hears you softly whimpering and moaning as he abuses your poor little hole.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. You like that huh? Being unable to defend yourself as I take your hole and training it to only love my cock, and only my cock. God, I love seeing you hopeless as I ram my cock into you. Oh, how I love seeing you and admiring you from afar. You have no idea how much I wanted you to myself. How I want you to whimper and moan for me, begging how good my cock is. God, I wish you were awake right now but I can't risk you screaming at me. Not yet at least. You will be with me. You will be mine."

He grabs your waist and slams you into him as he cums into your hole. Panting as he dumps his load into you and slowly pulls it out, watching his cum come out and puts on your undergarment. Taking his cock and carefully puts it into your mouth. Taking your head and slowly rock back and forth as you 'suck' his dick. Once he feels satisfied he cleans himself up and dresses you back to normal. Sighing at your beautiful and wrecked body wishing you were his.

AN; sorry that this ending was shitty </3

#✒ Fx's writing #my ocs #somnophilla #sonmo #x reader #cnc somno #smut #cnc k!nk #yandere #yandere smut #male yandere #gn reader #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere nerd #nerd yandere

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atomicladytimetravel · 8 months

Text

Quiet Type

Summary: Joel Miller doesn’t really care for small talk and he finally meets someone who respects that. Slow burn romance and PWP. Jackson era Joel, no mention of Ellie. Cannon game places mentioned but it’s HBO Joel.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. MDNI. Smut. Oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, light choking, pet names, some rough sex. Joel is really sweet.

I’m actually really proud of this one, I hope you guys like it!

Word count: 5,444

Joel Miller doesn’t really like people. With the exception of his brother Tommy and his wife Maria, Joel keeps to himself. He does his patrol, eats his meals (mostly alone) at the Tipsy Bison and goes home to his empty house. He likes it this way - or at least he likes to think he does.

Everything starts to change when you show up in Jackson. You were wounded, on the run from a group of raiders that ransacked your camp and took out half your group. The surviving half got split up as you fled the area, just trying to get out alive. You had run straight into Jackson’s patrol unit, hands in the air and begging for help.

“Stay right there, do not come any closer.”

It had come from who you would later find out to be Tommy Miller. You stopped where you were and plead your case with the group of people that had their guns trained on you.

“Please, I’m not sick. Just wounded. Raiders attacked my camp and I lost my group.”

Tommy instructed the dog at his side to sniff and you stood as still as possible as it circled you, smelling for signs of the cordycep infection. The dog returned to Tommy’s side, having found no trace of the illness.

“She’s fine, lower your guns.”

Your wound was nothing too serious; you had been grazed in the shoulder as you fled the camp, but you escaped otherwise unscathed. After a quick recovery, Tommy and Maria asked if you’d be willing to take patrol shifts. This is where you would meet Joel Miller for the first time.

After getting up at the ass crack of dawn, you get dressed and sling a pack with food and water over your shoulder. You meet Tommy at the stables and you see him talking with another man. He’s a little older, his hair a little more silver, but you can see a family resemblance - a brother, maybe a first cousin. You can’t deny that he’s ruggedly handsome, the kind of guy you would probably go for under different circumstances. He doesn’t look nearly as relaxed as Tommy.

“Ah, here she comes,” Tommy says as you approach the two. “This is my brother, Joel. He’ll be your patrol partner today.”

Joel nods in your direction, but says nothing. You’re pretty decent at reading people and, judging by Joel’s stiff body language and silent greeting, he’s not a people person. You nod in return, figuring that actually speaking would be a waste of time anyway. Tommy shows you which horse to take (his name is Toast) and you’re already up on the saddle when he turns to ask if you know how to ride.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I took lessons before the world went to shit.”

After making sure you know the rules, Tommy leaves you and Joel to it. You let Joel take the lead and the two of you ride out of Jackson silently. As a matter of fact, you do everything silently, save for when Joel is barking instructions at you. When you return, Tommy asks Joel how you did when he thinks you’re out of earshot.

“Fine,” Joel replies. “She didn’t get us killed and she doesn’t talk my fuckin’ ear off.”

Tommy laughs and claps his brother on the back. The corner of your lip twitches upward into a half smile as you walk away from the barn and to your house.

You end up being on patrol with Joel more often than not. You suspect it’s because you leave him alone and speak to him only when necessary. You don’t seek him out when off duty and if you do happen to see him, a curt nod is the most that’s ever exchanged. He likes it this way - or at least he likes to think he does.

——————

Joel might be a quiet man, but he is still a man with (mostly) working eyes. He takes notice of your shape, the way your ass moves when you walk and the way your smile lights up whatever room you’re in. He never gets to see that smile unless he happens to see you talking to other people. He likes to see you smile and, even though he would rather die than admit this to himself or anyone else, he wishes you would smile at him. Sometimes he wonders why you talk to everyone but him, but then he reminds himself that he doesn’t care because he likes it this way.

One morning, after a couple of months of silent patrols and nodded greetings, Joel actually speaks to you when you enter the stables.

“Hey,” he grunts, and that’s all he says. But it’s one word more than what’s usually spoken.

“Hey,” you reply, making brief eye contact. You’re a little surprised, but you don’t let him see. Much like a stray dog you might try to coax into letting you pet it, you don’t want to scare him off by getting too close too soon. Eventually, “hey” evolves into “mornin’”, but nothing past the initial greeting is ever said. You don’t push him, figuring if he ever wants to talk, he’ll say something.

One day, he does. His voice makes you jump just a little, not expecting him to be speaking in the moment. You’re walking through the Mountain View ski lodge and you’ve gotten to the point on patrol where Joel doesn’t need to instruct you anymore.

“You’re, uh…pretty quiet, huh?”

“Sorry?” You’re a little caught off guard by the question.

“You don’t talk much,” he clarifies. Your eyebrows knit together in a confused expression.

“That’s because you don’t seem like the kind of guy that likes to talk,” you shrug.

“I don’t.”

“Alright then. If you’re not interested in talking, I’m not gonna force you to Joel.”

That’s the first time you’ve ever said his name out loud in front of him. He curses himself mentally because he likes the way it sounds coming out of your mouth. He just looks at you, his turn to wear the confused expression. He’s not exactly used to people actually picking up on the fact that he doesn’t care for small talk.

“I’m pretty good at reading people,” you explain. “Your body language screams ‘leave me alone’. So I leave you alone.”

“Hmph…wish other people could pick up on that.”

You let out a short laugh through your nose, and that is the end of the first conversation you ever have with Joel Miller.

——————

One night, you find yourself dreaming of him. In the dream, you’re patrolling the ski lodge. Once you’ve cleared the place and there are no signs of danger, Joel holsters his gun and turns to you.

“C’mere,” he says, beckoning to you with his hand. You walk up to him and he grabs you by the waist, pulling you the rest of the way in. His eyes are dark with lust and he kisses you with those soft, supple looking lips. Things quickly get explicit and you wake up with a throbbing cunt, arousal pooling in your panties. You’re perplexed, never having experienced any feelings for Joel other than your initial recognition that he’s a handsome man. You chalk it up to being around him so often and brush it off, going about your morning as usual.

When you meet Joel in the stables, your stomach flutters momentarily when you lay eyes on him. You take a deep breath and shake the memory of the dream out of your head and you go in to saddle up Toast. You’re pleasantly surprised when Joel speaks as the horses trot off toward Teton County.

“So…uh…where you from?”

“You mean recently or before?”

“Before. I heard you tell Tommy you took riding lessons before.”

That was months ago. You’re honestly shocked he remembered that.

“Oh yeah. I’m from Dallas.”

“No shit,” he says, sounding surprised. “Me and Tommy are from Austin.”

“Well shit, what a small world.”

You smile at him and a tiny piece of the icy wall around his heart melts.

——————

“So Tommy, I hear you’re from Texas. Me too - Dallas.”

You’re sitting across from him and Maria at dinner. He looks up from his plate, confusion evident on his face.

“Where’d ya hear that?”

“Your brother told me,” you shrug, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“Joel just volunteered that information, huh?” he asks sarcastically.

“Not really. He asked me where I’m from. When I told him Dallas, he said y’all are from Austin.”

Tommy and Maria are both looking at you like you’d grown a second head. They glance at each other suspiciously and then back at you.

“Joel…asked you where you’re from?” Tommy asks incredulously. You grin and stab a piece of meat with your fork.

“Turns out if you just leave him alone, he gets curious.”

“What are you, some sort of witch?” he jokes, to which you laugh loudly.

“I just have good people skills.”

——————

Everything you and Joel learn about each other comes in increments through the micro conversations you have on patrol. You let him control when the conversation begins and when it ends. He doesn’t tell you, but he appreciates that. You never ask for more than what he volunteers and vice versa. It’s gotten to the point where he’ll talk to you at least once during patrol. He asks questions about what life was like before the outbreak and before you got to Jackson and he tells you a little about himself in return.

You know he was a contractor in Austin and that he, too, likes horses. He doesn’t like to talk much about how he lived after the outbreak before Jackson; he only says he’s not proud of some of the things he did to survive. He did tell you about how he and Tommy went their separate ways and it was years before Joel finally found him in Jackson.

Joel secretly looks forward to your little conversations. He finds that he actually likes being around you. He likes that you don’t prod and ask too many questions. He likes that you seem to be able to gauge when he’s ready to stop talking. He likes it when you walk ahead of him because the man in him can’t deny you have a fine ass. Truth be told, he just likes you, but that’s a feeling he’s not ready to deal with yet. He can’t deny his physical attraction to you, though. More often than not, he finds himself fucking his fist imagining it’s you wrapped around him instead of his hand.

You like him, too. You perk up when he speaks and it makes you feel warm and fuzzy to know you’re one of the few people he talks to. You can’t help but think about him when you’re lying in bed. You fantasize about him fucking you; you imagine he’s a little rough, a little dominant. You make yourself cum thinking about him whispering filthy things in your ear.

Sometimes you think you can feel the sexual tension between you two as you’re walking side by side on patrol. You’re certain you can feel his eyes on you when you take the lead. Part of you thinks that maybe, just maybe, he might like you. You don’t say anything for fear of losing what you already have.

——————

You fuck everything up on patrol one day. You’re in the library in Teton Village quietly weaving through the book cases while Joel does the same on the opposite side. You hear the telltale clicking and see an infected coming at Joel from his right side, but Joel doesn’t seem to hear it. He sees it right as it tackles him to the ground and he gets into a wrestling match with it.

“Hey!” you shout, turning the attention of the clicker on you. It leaps off of Joel and barrels in your direction, but you’re quick on the draw and you’re able to shoot it before it makes it to you. You rush over to Joel to make sure he isn’t hurt.

“Are you fuckin’ stupid?” he growls angrily, hoisting himself up off the ground.

“Umm, you’re fuckin’ welcome,” you respond, crossing your arms defiantly.

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed,” he seethes.

“I stopped you from getting killed! If that thing had bitten you, I would’ve had to shoot you, too,” you argued. “Besides, it’s dead, and we’re not. Isn’t that why we go in pairs?”

“Whatever,” he grumbles. “Just don’t do stupid shit like that again.”

——————

He doesn’t talk to you for almost a week - no little bursts of conversation throughout patrol, not even a greeting when you meet in the stables. You don’t know what you did that was so wrong, you had only been trying to help. You’re riding through Teton Village again and you relive the moment when you pass the library. Your anger at him for his outburst reignites, the fact that he won’t even speak to you fueling your rage. He senses your shift in mood and you’re about to open your mouth to tell him off when he speaks.

“I’m…sorry.”

You close your mouth and look at him. He sees that, not only are you angry, but there’s a little bit of hurt hiding in your eyes. Now he’s mad at himself.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I definitely shouldn’t have called you stupid. You probably saved my life and I need to thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome Joel. And thank you for the apology,” you say. Then you do something you wouldn’t normally do - you prod. “Why the hell did you get so pissed?”

He’s silent for a long while and you’re afraid you’ve fucked up again. You’re relieved when he speaks again, but the response you receive isn’t one you would have ever expected.

“You…scared me,” he admits. “I saw the clicker running towards you and I was afraid you were gonna get hurt while I was fuckin’ layin’ on the ground.”

“I was scared, too. It was coming right for you and you didn’t seem to hear it and it was too late for me to say anything before it attacked. I figured I had a better chance at killing it than you did.”

“You did the right thing,” he assures you. “I would’ve done the same for you.”

And he means it. He would face a room full of the things to save you. Having acknowledged that fact, he makes the decision to open up to you then.

“I’m mostly deaf in my right ear. That’s why I didn’t hear it.”

“Oh. Well that makes sense.”

You’re not really sure what else to say, other than to ask him what happened, but you don’t want to push him. If he wants you to know, he’ll tell you. And he does.

“I tried to take myself out right after the outbreak. My daughter died on outbreak day and it destroyed me.”

You gasp softly and a hand goes to your mouth in shock, partially because he’s telling you something so personal and partially because you feel so bad for him.

“Joel, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

He waves the apology off and continues.

“I missed somehow - obviously, because I’m still here - but it fucked up my hearing.”

You’re quiet for a little bit. You’re in disbelief that Joel willingly shared such an intimate detail about himself. In a soft voice, you finally say, “I’m glad you missed.”

He gives you a little smile and you fall back into a comfortable silence for quiet a while. On the way back to Jackson, he surprises you again.

“Hey…wanna eat dinner with me tonight?”

“Sure, I’d love to,” you say with a grin.

You don’t ask him if it’s a date for the fear of him taking it back. It took almost a year and a brush with death for him to ask you to do anything besides patrol with him and you weren’t about to risk messing it up.

When you walk into the Tipsy Bison, you see him sitting at his usual table in the corner, eyes flitting around the room nervously. You’re glad you decided to dress up a little, throwing on a skirt and one of the nicer tops you have; he’s dressed in a button up flannel and clean jeans, his hair slicked back. Your cunt throbs just looking at him.

“Oh god,” you think to yourself, “I didn’t think he could get any hotter, but damn.”

Tommy catches sight of you and calls your name, waving you to his table. You wave at him but continue walking towards Joel.

“Sorry Tommy, I have plans.”

He watches you take a seat across from Joel and pauses mid bite as his brother actually smiles at another human being. Maria nudges him and he looks away quickly.

“Sorry I’m late,” you apologize as you sit down. “I couldn’t decide what to wear.”

“You look really pretty,” he says. You feel your cheeks heat up and you hear Tommy loudly whisper, “did he just say she looks really pretty??”

You and Joel glare at Tommy simultaneously and the younger Miller puts his hands up in surrender. You giggle when Maria chastises him and Joel doesn’t know when he’s ever heard a prettier sound.

“I really like your hair like that,” you say, turning your attention back to Joel. “You look really nice.”

It’s his turn to blush now. You think it’s absolutely adorable.

“Thanks. I uh, I wasn’t too sure what to wear either.”

He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, the material of his flannel tightening around his bicep. You have to will yourself not to drool over the muscle flexing underneath. He’s trying to shake his nerves. It’s been…fuck, it’s been over twenty years since he’s been on a date, back when restaurants and movie theaters were still a thing. Wait, did he ever clarify that this is a date? Before he can say anything, you speak up.

“Can I ask you a question Joel?”

“Go ahead sweetheart.”

He doesn’t know where he got the confidence to say that. It makes your heart skip a beat and your stomach do a backflip.

“Is this a date?”

He chuckles heartily.

“Yes darlin’, this is a date.”

——————

Your first date with Joel goes exceptionally well. You both relax and you have a full blown conversation, laughing and joking with each other and acting like nobody was staring at the two of you. Nobody in Jackson had seen Joel happy, probably ever. You leave the Tipsy Bison together and you both ignore how everyone’s heads turn to watch you leave. He walks you to your front door like a true southern gentleman.

You stare at each other for a long moment, and then you both move in for a kiss at the same time. You grab the front of his shirt and reach behind you to turn the door knob; you pull him into your house without breaking the kiss. You push him onto your couch and he looks up at you with admiration as you straddle his lap.

“You sure you wanna do this?” he asks between kisses.

“I’ve been sure since I walked into the Tipsy Bison and saw how fuckin’ hot you look.”

He growls, deep and throaty, and it rumbles through his chest; he palms your ass underneath your skirt, squeezing roughly. His tongue is in your mouth and your hands are in his hair, ruining the slicked back style. His lips move to your jaw bone, then to your neck where he sucks harshly. There’s going to be a mark there for sure, but neither of you care. You both want the whole town to know Joel Miller marked you as his.

“I think about you all the fuckin’ time,” he confesses into your skin, his breath against your neck making you tingle. “Not just about this. In general.”

His words are sweet and they make you feel as though you could explode with joy. You smooth your hand down the back of his hair as he buries his face into your cleavage, kissing the exposed tops of your breasts.

“I think about you, too. I really like you, Joel.”

He looks up at you and smiles, his hand coming up to cradle your face. He uses his thumb to rub your cheekbone and he kisses you softly.

“I really like you, too.”

You smile and put your hand over his. You remove it from your face and kiss his palm before placing it over one of your breasts.

“Do you ever think about me like this?” you ask as you begin to grind your hips on him. His breath hitches but he recovers quickly, kneading your breast over your shirt while his other hand squeezes your hip.

“How could I not? Got a gorgeous fuckin’ thing like you ridin’ next to me almost every day, shakin’ your ass when you walk in front of me.”

You giggle, your hands moving to his chest to unbutton his flannel.

“I had a dream about you once,” you tell him as your fingers slowly work his buttons. “We were in the ski lodge. You kissed me and then you laid me down and fucked me on one of the couches. I was so wet when I woke up.”

“Baby girl,” he groans. “So fuckin’ hot. Do you touch yourself thinkin’ about me, hmm?”

You’re finished unbuttoning his shirt now and you push it off his arms, revealing his toned biceps.

“All the time,” you respond, dragging your nails lightly down his bare chest. His lips crash against yours again in a needy, desperate kiss. He breaks it just long enough to pull your shirt over your head and then he wraps his arms around you, his touch cool against your burning skin.

“Let’s see if I can still do this,” he says, his mouth moving against yours.

He grabs the clasp of your bra with one hand and, with one flick of his fingers, your bra unclasps and hangs loosely off your shoulders.

“Damn, that was impressive. And very hot.”

He chuckles and slides your bra off your arms, tossing it carelessly to the side. He does this without breaking eye contact and he presses another kiss to your lips before admiring your naked breasts.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he says, cupping them in his hands. He rolls your nipples between his fingers and your head falls back, a soft moan escaping your throat.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom, yeah?” he suggests, his nose brushing your exposed throat. He stands with you still on his lap and you wrap your legs around him.

“Mmm, a big strong man,” you tease, squeezing his biceps. He laughs through his nose and carries you to your room, tossing you gently on the bed. You giggle softly when your back hits the mattress. You sit up on your elbows and watch with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as he comes out of his jeans. His cock is perfect. It’s big, but not big enough to be intimidating, and it’s rock hard.

He gets to his knees on the mattress and tugs your skirt off your hips, your panties going with it. You’re now completely on display for each other and neither of you can stop staring. He’s fit but a little soft around the middle; it drives you absolutely wild. He thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“You are so god damn beautiful,” he says softly. You smile up at him.

“Come kiss me, you gorgeous fuckin’ man.”

He does, his tongue licking inside your mouth. He sucks on your tongue and you moan into the kiss. Your hips rise to meet his, your cunt desperate for some kind of contact.

“Patience baby girl,” he coos, pushing your hips back down. “I wanna take my time with you. Been dreamin’ about this for a while.”

He kisses your neck again, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin. He presses open mouthed kisses to your chest before sucking your nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hardening bud. You’re absolutely soaking now and you can feel arousal sliding down your thigh.

“Joel…my god…please,” you breathe.

“Shhhh, let me play baby. I’m gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”

He switches to your other breast and you’re sure you’re going to explode before he touches you. Your clit is throbbing and you’re desperate for his touch. He takes his time, finding the most sensitive parts of your body and kissing, sucking, biting. You feel like you’re being worshipped.

“Does this turn you on?” you ask breathlessly. “Because, fuck, it turns me on.”

“What, touching your beautiful fuckin’ body like this? Absolutely,” he assures you. “My cock’s hard enough to cut glass right now.”

You both laugh a little bit and you’re reassured that he’s enjoying himself. He spreads your legs into the butterfly position and settles onto his stomach, his head between your legs. He kisses your pubic mound and then spreads you open with two fingers.

“Mmm, look at this pretty pussy. She’s jus’ fuckin’ soaked baby. You’re dripping onto the fuckin’ sheets. Can I taste it?”

“Please,” you manage to squeak out.

He kisses your clit and you gasp. He blows softly on the area and you moan, your hole clenching around nothing.

“Oh, she likes that,” he teases. He massages your clit with the tip of his tongue and a high pitched, breathy moan falls from your lips. Finally, some relief. His tongue feels so good, swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves. All you can do is pant and moan as he buries his tongue into you.

“God, you got the sweetest fuckin’ pussy.”

He wastes no time diving back in, moving his head from side to side. He laps at your cunt and you can feel the buildup of pleasure getting ready to release.

“Fuck, Joel, I’m gonna cum,” you warn. This only spurs him on and he sucks hard at your clit. That pushes you over the edge and your hips rise as your orgasm hits. You let out a long whine of his name and he only stops when your hips meet the mattress again.

“Good job sweet girl,” he praises. “Let’s see if you can take another.”

He doesn’t wait for you to answer before he’s between your legs again, alternating between licking and sucking your clit. Your hand is in his hair, keeping his face between your legs because you’ll take whatever this man decides to give you. You notice that his hips are rutting into the mattress; he’s just as desperate for release as you are but his priority is you. You feel your impending release and you’re cumming before you can properly voice it.

“Oh god…I’m…f-fuck - cumming, I’m cumming,” you wail. He doesn’t stop when you’ve come down and the feeling of overstimulation makes you scoot back from his mouth. He wraps his arms under your thighs and pulls you back to him.

“C’mere baby, give me another. You can do it.”

You breathe in deeply and exhale through your nose and you relax into his touch again. This time, he slides two fingers into your hole, pumping in and out as he laps at your clit. He hooks his fingers and your eyes fly open as his hits that spongy spot in your walls.

“O-oh god don’t stop,” you pant. He pumps his fingers faster, curling them with every thrust.

“Oh yeah baby, you’re so close. I can feel you clenching around my fingers. Listen to you making those pretty sounds. Let go for me pretty thing. Cum for me.”

A few more strokes of his fingers and you’re coming undone. You cry out his name, gripping the sheets until your fingers hurt. He kisses the insides of your thighs softly.

“That’s it baby, you did so good f’me.”

He sits up on his knees and takes his cock in his hand. You watch as he strokes it, the sight stoking the fire in your belly once more. You need him, need to be full of him.

“You want my cock, pretty girl?” he asks, as though reading your mind.

“Please…,” you utter pleadingly. He settles himself between your legs and drags his cock through your folds. You both moan as he slides in slowly, pushing all the way to the hilt.

“God, I jus’ wanna fuckin’ rail you,” he says through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ perfect pussy. Gotta go slow though.”

“No, rail me. I can take it.”

“Baby if I rail you right now I won’t last. Let me go slow for a minute and then I’ll destroy this little fuckin’ pussy, yeah?”

“Oh god, yes,” you mewl. He takes his time, sliding in and out of you slowly. He enjoys watching how you suck him back in, your arousal making his cock shine.

“She’s so wet for me baby,” he whimpers, and you think it’s the hottest fucking thing you’ve ever heard. “Oh fuck, your pussy feels so good.”

He picks up speed a little and you wrap your legs around him. He rests his hands on either side of you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His tip hits your g-spot with every thrust and you moan and whimper pathetically.

“Joel, just - fuck, just like that. Gonna make me cum so hard.”

“Fuckin’ cum for me baby girl,” he groans. He reaches between you and rubs your clit with his thumb. The extra stimulation sends you reeling and you’re clawing at his back, babbling about how hard he’s making you cum.

He pulls out and flips you into your stomach, pulling you back by your hips. He slams back into you all the way. He thrusts into you over and over, railing you just like he promised. At this point, you’re certain you can be heard by anyone outside but you’re beyond caring. All you can do is cry out for Joel as he continues slamming into you.

“Yeah, keep clenching around my cock, dirty fuckin’ girl. So tight f’me baby, fuck.”

He lands a smack on your ass cheek and it makes you cum again without warning, eyes rolling back.

“‘m cumming Joel,” you mumble. Your body quakes with pleasure as he pounds into you relentlessly.

“God fuckin’ damn baby girl, you take this fuckin’ cock. Take it like my good fuckin’ girl.”

He’s lost in the way you feel, hips slamming into you so hard you’re actually moving forward on the bed. Deep, guttural growls rumble from his chest.

“One more time baby,” he pants. “Need you to cum o-one more time.”

He pulls you up so that your back is against his chest. He puts his lips to your ear and kisses the shell of it, his hand cuffing your throat.

“You’re gonna cum again for me baby, then I’m gonna fuckin’ paint you with my cum.” His voice is low in your ear and he applies light pressure to your throat. His free hand reaches down to rub your clit. “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours baby. All yours,” you whisper.

“That’s fuckin’ right. Mine. Cum for me baby, I wanna feel you.”

With a few more thrusts, you cum around him one last time, the cry you let out slightly strangled by his hand around your throat. He pulls out and jerks himself a few times before you feel ropes of cum splash against your back and ass. He rests his head on your shoulder as he catches his breath and you reach around to run your fingers through his hair.

“Holy hell woman. That was…”

“…fucking incredible,” you finish for him. He breaths put a “yeah” in agreement and kisses your shoulder. “Stay here, let me clean you up.”

He finds a wash cloth and wets it in the bathroom sink. He comes back and gently cleans his spend off you. He lays down with you and spoons you, kissing any part of you he can reach.

“Was that really okay? Was I too rough?” he asks.

“It was way more than okay. That was amazing - and I like it a little rough. Definitely do more of the choking.”

“Noted,” he chuckles softly.

“Will you stay?” you ask, and he doesn’t even have to consider his answer.

“Of course.”

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