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slytherinslut0 · 6 months

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MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

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

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

Tags: 18+, SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Degradation Kink, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Manipulation, Violence, Aggression, Blood, Slapping, Slight Masochism, Sexual Aggression, WeaponizingEnzoBerkshire(im sorry?), Fingering, DARK THEMES.

***FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

"Rowena, render me resilient." You huffed, mumbling to yourself while pulling your infuriated corpse out of the creaky wooden chair in the empty potions classroom. "I'm going to fucking kill that boy."

Mattheo was thirty minutes late. Thirty. Three. Zero.

At first, you dismissed his tardiness, convincing yourself it was just another instance of his habitual delay--and in those initial ten minutes, you buried yourself in your homework, trying to maintain an air of indifference. But as the clock ticked away, another ten minutes, then another five, your patience wore thin, your nerves splintering with palpable annoyance. From that point on, each passing second seemed to echo with the ghost of his absence, amplifying your frustration.

The room seemed to close in on you as you stared at the clock, wondering why he would brush you off so callously when he damn-well knew he was the only fucking reason you were there, in that classroom, in the bloody first place.

The single-minded focus on confronting Mattheo propelled you forward, urging you to swing open the creaky wooden door with a determined force. As you stepped into the eerie, freezing corridor of the dungeons, your resolve transformed into a palpable energy, driving you forward with every purposeful stride. The anticipation of the impending confrontation overshadowed any trepidation, making you oblivious to the typical nerves that might have accompanied a situation like this.

As you approached the Slytherin common room, the distant thumping of loud music permeated the heavy door, sending vibrations through the floor beneath your feet. Despite the unfamiliar territory and the intimidating reputation of the Slytherin's domain--which was often veiled in a haze of marijuana smoke and the lingering scent of alcohol--your anger acted as a shield, eclipsing any reservations or second thoughts.

Your frustration boiled over as you banged on the door with a force that reverberated through the wood, echoing your impatience. With each pounding knock, a faint haze of smoke seeped out from the cracks around the door, a telltale sign of the revelry inside--it felt like centuries had past before the door swung open, a thick cloud of smoke billowing out from the bustling common room; and before you could react, a Slytherin student you didn't recognize--tall and imposing, grabbed your arm and yanked you inside, pulling you close to him.

He pressed you against the door as he slammed it shut behind you, his eyes narrowing as he scanned your appearance from head to toe, clearly suspicious of your presence inside his domain.

"Who the hell are you, and what do you think you're doing here?" he demanded, his voice sharp and laced with suspicion. The scent of alcohol mingled with the smoke, adding an acrid edge to the atmosphere as he scrutinized you, waiting for an explanation. "You're out of your bloody depth little Ravenclaw...some nerve-"

You stammered, hardly able to catch your words. "I-I'm Mattheo's tutor...he didn't show up to-"

"Mattheo's tutor, huh?" he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery as he cut you off. "Well, good luck trying to drag him out of this madness on a Friday night. Once he's in, he's in deep, and nobody can rescue him, especially not a helpless little Ravenclaw like you."

His grip on your arm tightened, emphasizing his point, the pressure sending a jolt of pain through your body. Your stomach twisted as you watched his lips curl into a cruel smirk, his blue eyes glinting with sadistic amusement.

"You're better off running along before you get sucked into our world. We Slytherins don't play nice, especially when it comes to parties."

With that, he shoved you away from the door, dismissing you with an irritated flick of his hand, leaving you standing there, caught between frustration and helplessness, engulfed in the suffocating haze of smoke and the pounding rhythm of the music as you attempted to gather yourself. Admittedly, the smell was getting to your head, you pulse pounding in your temples and matching the base of the music. You shot your gaze around the room, in search of any sort of sign that Mattheo was around--but you didn't get very far before you felt movement behind you.

Your heart raced as you spun around, finding yourself surrounded by practically all the boys from the infamous Slytherin Quidditch team, their cold gazes assessing you with a mix of curiosity and arrogance. Draco Malfoy, the groups undeniable leader, sneered at you, his blond hair perfectly styled despite the chaotic atmosphere of the room.

"Well, well, look what we have here, boys," Draco drawled, his tone dripping with superiority. "A lost little Ravenclaw wandering into our house. Did you take a wrong turn on your way to the library, sweetheart?"

You swallowed, your eyes shooting around at each of the men as they circled around you, Theodore Nott and Regulus Black shared a knowing glance, exchanging silent communication that made your skin crawl. Blaise Zabini, the schools best known charmer, stepped closer, his smug smile sending chills down your spine.

"Or perhaps you're here to join the party?" he suggested, his eyes lingering on you in a way that made your skin prickle with discomfort. Lorenzo Berkshire, the powerhouse of the team, folded his arms over his chest, his expression unreadable as he observed you. The room seemed to close in around you, the haze of smoke thickening as their presence suffocated the air.

With every instinct screaming at you to escape, you tried to muster courage. "I-I'm just looking for Mattheo," you stammered, your voice barely audible over the pulsating music. "I'm his tutor, and he was supposed to meet me for a study session...I came to find him."

Theodore smirked, tilting his head as he scrutinized you with a calculating gaze. "I don't recall Mattheo mentioning anything about a tutor," he said, his voice low and edged with suspicion. "Are you sure you're in the right place, Bella?"

"Or, perhaps you're here for something other than tutoring?" Lorenzo said, his voice like a low growl--your nerves multiplying as he took a deliberate step forward, his eyes never leaving yours. "You should know that little birds who dare to venture into the snake's den rarely ever make it out alive..."

Lorenzo's words stirred something inside your chest, your stomach twisting into a knot so tight you thought for sure your intestines were about to explode. The boys, their eyes gleaming with a sinister intent, moved forward with calculated steps, their chuckles weaving through the air like unsettling whispers. They encircled you, a menacing dance of predators closing in on their prey-the glint in their eyes mirroring the sharpness of fangs as they closed the gap, enveloping you in a suffocating sense of dread.

You couldn't help but to be acutely aware of the irony of the situation, you were the helpless little bird ensnared in the midst of hungry snakes--desperate for rescue that you knew would never come--internally freaking the fuck out until you steeled your shoulders, gathering every single last ounce of your courage to meet Enzo's burning gaze head on--a glint of defiance twinkling behind your eyes.

"Little bird, Berkshire?" you taunted, your voice ringing through the room as you took a bold step toward him, your head held high to meet his eyes. "Last time I checked, the Ravenclaw emblem was an Eagle…unless it’s changed without my knowledge…" you continued, your gaze unwavering, watching his jaw clench with irritation. "Do you know what eagles are capable of, Berkshire? Or is that information too elevated for your limited intelligence?"

Lorenzo's lips curled into a contemptuous smile. "Save your Ravenclaw wit for your textbooks, little bird," he said, his tone dripping with disdain. "In our den, you're just prey, no matter what emblem you wear."

The boys around you chuckled darkly, their laughter echoing through the room like the hiss of snakes, only fuelling your urge to defend yourself further. Lorenzo took another step forward and you straightened your shoulders.

"Your attempts to wield venom through words mirror your feeble Quidditch endeavors…always falling short of the impact you intend," you sneered, your confidence cutting through the tension. "Perhaps it's time to reevaluate your definition of prey, considering the ones who underestimate tend to fall the hardest."

Lorenzo's nostrils flared, his face turning crimson with rage. "You got quite the mouth on you, little fucking brat," he spat, his voice sharp as a dagger, hand reaching up to grip your jaw, pulling you tight against him--the scent of alcohol flooding your nostrils as his free hand gripped your hip, your mouth parting in complete, paralyzing shock. "You want to fucking say that again, huh?"

The boys surrounding the two of you exchanged uneasy glances, their initial amusement morphing into concern as they realized just how far he was willing to take things. A few of them took cautious steps back, their confidence waning in the face of Lorenzo's escalating rage.

Your voice wavered, a mixture of fear and defiance. "Let go of me."

"Not so tough now, are you?" He chuckled darkly, his grip tightening. "You're bloody pathe-"

Lorenzo's malicious words hung in the air, pregnant with menace, but they were abruptly silenced by a deep, furious rumble that reverberated through the room.

"Berkshire," you recognized that voice. You’d never, ever not recognize that fucking voice. "What the fuck are you doing?"

The resonance of his voice was like a rolling thunder, each syllable echoing off the stone walls and sending tangible shivers down your spine. The very atmosphere seemed to quiver in response, and you could almost feel the raw power of his anger vibrating in the air, setting the entire room on edge. Enzo's eyes widened in alarm, his confident facade crumbling like fragile parchment in the face of Mattheo's wrath.

Slowly turning, Enzo locked eyes with the approaching Riddle, whose gaze blazed with an unyielding fire, and without giving him a chance to react, Mattheo surged forward, his movements swift and deadly. His fist, wrapped in a tempest of rage, found its target in Enzo's jaw with a resounding impact.

The force of the blow sent shockwaves through the room, Enzo's head snapping violently to the side, a spray of crimson erupting from the corner of his lip, painting the air with the evidence of Mattheo's strength--and the room stood still for a moment, suspended in a heartbeat of sheer shock as Enzo stumbled backward, his once-defiant demeanor now entirely shattered.

In the wake of Mattheo's ferocity, the room remained suspended in a tense silence, like a captured breath waiting to be released, the echo of the impact still ringing in your ears. Enzo, once the epitome of arrogance and aggression, now stood stunned, his hand clutching his injured jaw as he struggled to regain his balance. The other boys, previously reveling in their sadistic taunts, stood frozen, their eyes wide with disbelief at the sudden turn of events.

Mattheo, his chest heaving with restrained fury, stepped forward, his gaze locked onto Enzo.

"Touch her again," he growled, his voice low and menacing, "and I'll make sure you regret every last moment you spend at this fucking school."

Enzo, now visibly shaken, nodded weakly, a mix of fear and humiliation clouding his eyes. Without another word, Mattheo turned his attention to you, his expression softening slightly, concern flickering in his eyes.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice gentler now, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions that had just erupted in the room. "Did he hurt you?"

Your mind buzzed with a whirlwind of emotions, struggling to process the chaotic events that had just unfolded. Numbly, you shook your head, your hand instinctively reaching up to rub your jaw, still tingling from the force of Enzo's grip.

"No," you said, not daring to meet his eyes. "I'm fine."

With a nod, Mattheo turned, his eyes boring into the remaining onlookers, his voice slicing through the air like a blade. "Enough gawking. Move along," he ordered, his tone laced with steel. "This isn't a show for your fucking amusement."

The intensity in his words sent the spectators scrambling like startled crows, leaving you and Mattheo in the quiet aftermath, the weight of the recent events hanging heavily in the air as he peered down at you with dark eyes.

"You came looking for me?" he whispered, his voice barely audible above the fading echoes of the room. "Thought you'd appreciate a night off from my bullshit."

Your chest seized as you eyed his face--the cut across his nose from yesterday still faintly bleeding, swatches of blood still decorating his jawline and cheekbones--you couldn't deny that this boy was a bloody mess. A cunning, arrogant, complicated fucking mess--but Gods, was he fucking attractive.

"I don't appreciate being blown off without notice, Riddle..." you huffed, chewing on the inside of your cheek. "Not that you could ever relate."

“You’re right, I can’t..I usually get some notice before being blown.” With a slight smirk, he gripped your wrist, meeting your eyes. "Come on. Let's get you out of here."

Mattheo's hold on your wrist was firm yet oddly reassuring as he guided you through the chaotic Slytherin common room. The room was a cacophony of laughter, music, and rowdy students, but his presence seemed to part the crowd effortlessly, creating a path for the two of you with ease. The air outside the common room was a welcome relief, free from the suffocating haze of smoke and the overwhelming scent of alcohol. Mattheo didn't release your wrist, his touch lingering, and you found yourself following his lead as he navigated the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts.

Silence settled between you, broken only by the distant echoes of the party behind you. Mattheo's expression was unreadable, his eyes focused ahead, as if he was deep in thought. The tension that had gripped you inside the common room began to dissipate, replaced by a strange sense of calm in his presence. As you walked, you stole glances at his profile--his jawline sharp, his lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes a stormy mix of emotions.

There was something different about him tonight, something vulnerable beneath his usual composed facade.

As the two of you finally reached the vacant potions room, Mattheo relinquished his hold on your wrist, allowing his fingers to slide away like the fading echo of a melody. He gently pressed open the ancient door of the classroom, and you slowly ventured inside.

Your senses heightened, capturing every subtle nuance of the space. The faint creak of the floorboards beneath your weight, the distant hoot of an owl, and the rustle of leaves against the windowpane merged into a symphony of nocturnal sounds. The anticipation in the air crackled like static electricity, wrapping around you as Mattheo's presence loomed closer, his warmth seeping through the layers of your uniform.

A singular step carried you further into the room, yet your feet rebelled against moving any closer. Your body buzzed with a peculiar blend of apprehension and curiosity, a tingling sensation that crawled beneath your skin. Mattheo's proximity felt palpable, his body brushing against you as he stood just behind, a silent guardian in the obsidian night.

The click of the lock reverberated through the chamber, its sound shattering the silence like a fragile glass.

His words caressed your ear as he spoke, accompanied by the strong scent of whiskey on his breath. "You're a goddamn handful, Raven..."

At the sound of his voice, your lids fluttered involuntarily, warmth creeping down your back, you were beyond thankful that he was behind you and couldn't see your reaction.

Your voice was a breath as it left your lips. "That's funny, coming from you..."

"Touché, princess." He hummed, the vibration massaging your spine. You tensed as his hand brushed your shoulder, pulling your hair back with it. "I'm sorry about Berkshire...he's a real charmer..."

You huffed, shaking your head, dismissing the heat that pooled in your core with each passing moment of his proximity. "Seems like all you Slytherin men are...certainly know how to dish it out, but don't know how to take it, hm?"

His lips curled into a smirk, his tone laced with arrogance. "Oh, we know how to take it, Raven," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I certainly do, anyways..."

Your breath caught in your throat. "I'm not so sure about that, Riddle...my mouth has gotten you going many times now..."

"Fucking right it has..." he growled, lips grazing the sensitive skin on your neck. "But I can handle you...the real question is, can you handle me..."

Your pulse was flying, rocketed somewhere into another galaxy. "Haven't I proved myself yet..."

A low, rumbling chuckle escaped him, reverberating through the room. His warm breath brushed against your skin, sending shivers of anticipation across your flesh. His tongue traced a torturous path up the side of your throat, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. His hands hovered over your hips, their presence magnetic, hesitating slightly before tightening their grip as if uncertain of your response.

"Not even fucking close, princess..." he purred, his words dripping with desire. "You have a long ways to go still..."

A soft, involuntary sound escaped your lips, your head falling back against his shoulder, surrendering to the intoxicating sensations that coursed through you. Resistance seemed futile; you were utterly ensnared in his grasp. He wielded an irresistible power over you, and you had no strength left to resist, even if you wanted to--all you had were words; empty, meaningless words.

"I thought you didn't want to do this anymore," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the hushed breaths between you. "I thought you just wanted me to be your tutor."

Mattheo's grip intensified. "I said a lot of things last night that I didn't mean, Raven..." he murmured against your neck. "I was drunk."

"You're drunk right now, too, Mattheo..." you muttered, unable to hide your amusement. "Bloody hell, you have issues."

"I know...I've gotta work some shit out," his teeth nipped your earlobe, you could practically feel the smirk on his lips. "I'm exercising my demons, Raven, I promise..."

His words hung in the air, laced with desperation and a yearning for understanding, as if he sought solace in your presence but didn't know how to ask for it--with a sharp inhale, your hands found his, and when he loosened his grasp on your hips, you spun around to face him, meeting his dark, penetrating eyes.

Your hands fell to your sides, fingers trembling as your gaze darted from his eyes to his lips, and back to his eyes. "What the fuck do you want from me, Mattheo Riddle..." you whispered. "Give me a solid answer...for once in your bloody-"

"I want you," he cut you off, his hand shifting to cup the side of your face. "...I want you on your knees for me..." his thumb brushed your cheek, his head tilting. "...I want you swallowing my cum..." he wet his lips, leaning closer, "...but most of all, I want you moaning my fucking name until it's the only word that pretty little mouth knows how to say."

Your lips parted, a soft exhale of contentment escaping your throat as he brushed his mouth against yours, stealing every breath from your lungs.

"But…you can't stand me, remember..." you whispered, your voice trembling like fragile glass. "You hate me..."

"Yeah," he huffed, his gaze flickering to your lips. "I hate you."

Your heart thundered against your ribs. "You hate me.”

"Yeah, I fucking hate you," he replied, his eyes simmering with intensity. "Do you hate me?"

"Yes," you responded, the words flowing from your lips like molten lava. You needed no time to think about it, not even a second. "I hate you."

"Yeah?" His eyes darkened, his features glossing over with something that made your stomach twist. "Say it again."

"I hate you, Mattheo Riddle..." you murmured, his lips brushing over yours again, sending electric sparks across your skin while his hand slithered around your lower back, pulling you closer. "I hate you so much."

He gripped your uniform between his fist, a low chuckle leaving his throat, his voice dripping with seductive arrogance. "I don't think I believe you, Raven." He purred, his warm breath caressing your lips. "Maybe you should prove it."

He pressed his lips to yours in one swift, powerful kiss, the intensity of it leaving you breathless. His mouth trailed a scorching path along your jawline, his tousled curls tickling your cheek as his warm breath fanned your skin. Speaking became a struggle amidst the sensations that engulfed you.

"How do you propose I do that?" you managed to breathe out, your voice barely audible over the thundering beat of your heart. His lips moved to your ear, pressing against it with a tantalizing heat.

"Hit me," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

"What?" Your body erupted in an incomprehensible collection of emotions, admittedly taken back by his request. "Why-"

"Hit me," he repeated, voice harsher now. "Just like last night--fucking slap me, Raven...don't be shy, you know I deserve it..."

The intensity behind his words propelled you into action, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. Without a moment's hesitation, you inhaled a sharp breath and drew your hand back, the room electrified with anticipation. With swift precision, your palm met his cheek in a sharp, resounding smack--his tousled chocolate curls dancing upon impact, his head jerking to the side.

In the charged aftermath of your slap, a potent silence hung in the air, laden with fervent anticipation. When he smirked, his eyes ablaze with a searing intensity, it felt like a scorching brand against your skin. Undaunted and admittedly more fucking turned on than you'd ever been before, you wound your hand back again--this time, your slap landed with a fiercer impact, a guttural groan escaping his lips as your palm connected with his cheek for the second time.

Before you could register what was happening, his hand gripped a fistful of your hair, his strength surprising you, and he spun you around. With a forceful push, he shoved you against the wall, the impact sending a shiver down your spine. His lips crashed onto yours with a hunger that matched the storm raging within you, igniting a fire that threatened to consume you both.

"You like that, Raven?" He purred, his fingers working to untuck your blouse before slipping underneath the fabric, the sensation of touch sending shivers down your spine. "You like making me fucking hurt, huh?"

"Gods, yes," you gasped, words choked through your breath as his fingers teased your nipple under the fabric of your bra. "You deserve so much more than that."

"That's right," he groaned, arrogance flooding his tone, lips moving like a sin along your neck, igniting your senses. "I'm a piece of shit, aren't I...using you like this...taking you as my little fucking toy when I said I wouldn't..."

A shuddering breath escaped your lips, your fingers tangling in his hair, unable to deny the raw intensity of your desires for even a single fucking second longer.

"Mattheo," you gasped, your voice barely audible, your body amplifying your words as it pressed closer to his, spine arching as he teased your nipple. "Touch me...please, just fucking touch me..."

"There she fucking is...there's my dirty little slut..." Mattheo groaned, low in his throat, teeth sinking into your neck. "Begging for me without even needing to be told...fuck, you learn so quickly, don't you..."

As his hand trailed down your stomach, you let out a shaky breath, feeling the heat of his touch flood through you. The trail of embers he left in his wake had your mind reeling, making it hard to even form coherent thoughts--your heart pounding so hard you were completely fucking certain he could hear it.

"Matty..." you whimpered, his teeth marking your neck, your grip tightening in his hair.

As his fingers slipped under the hem of your skirt and found their way to the mound of your pussy, you couldn't help but arch your back, pressing your hips closer to his hand. The fabric of your thong did little to impede the sensation, and you felt your body responding involuntarily to his touch. Your bodies were pressed tightly against each other, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed in rhythm with you.

"Shh," he murmured, hand slipping from your hair and clamping over your lips. "You'll need to be quiet princess...you don't want to get caught like this, do you?"

His body shuddered against yours as you mewled, the vibration sending a wave of pleasure through your limbs. Mattheo pressed himself harder against you, his hardness pressing against your thigh--the sensation sending a jolt of excitement through you, causing you to roll your hips against him in response. You were so fucking far gone now, there was absolutely no saving you. You wanted more of him, all of him, every single inch he wanted to fucking give you.

"Oh my fuck-" Mattheo's voice was a breathless growl as he slipped his fingers under your thong and slid a finger through your soaked slit, your entire body jolting against his--a loose moan reverberating through your chest. "Oh fuck, Raven...you're so fucking wet..."

Breath hitching, engulfed in a deluge of lust, you wriggled against him, lava already flowing out from your centre and through your veins.

"Look at what I fucking do to you..." he pressed your head against the wall, his own head shifting back to meet your eyes. "Who else gets you this fucking wet, huh? Fuck...this little pussy already belongs to me..."

You choked back a moan, stifled under his rough palm as the pad of his finger drew slow circles around your clit, warmth flooding your body. Your hands clutched the fabric of his shirt now, digging in with enough intensity to slice the fabric with your nails. Mattheo growled, watching every ministration of your face under his hand, rubbing faster in response, sending shocks of pleasure through you, your hips bucking.

"That's it...fuck..." he muttered, loosing himself in your eyes, in the heat of your pussy dripping from his touch. "No turning back now, Raven...you're going to fucking cum for me...you're going to make yourself mine..."

Your lids fluttered, body trembling, oxygen fleeing you without hesitation; short, insistent groans escaping your throat, his fingers assailing your stiff nub. You were balancing on your peak, ready to tip over, never knowing pleasure so fucking intense in your entire life.

"Look at me." He hissed. "Look into my fucking eyes as you cum for me."

Every nerve in your body felt electrified, pulsating with a pleasure so intense it was almost painful--chest rolling and head spinning as you met his eyes; drowning in their chocolate intensity. His touch, his gaze, everything about him overwhelmed your senses, plunging you into a euphoria you had never experienced before. You were gone, hardly hearing his words, hardly even conscious, the sensations flowing through you were unlike anything you've ever known. And then, before you had a chance to accept it, white light flashed in front of your vision, blurring your sight, a blissful heat ripping through you and shattering your sanity as you squealed into his palm--Mattheo’s lips parting and his chest heaving as he watched you, not daring to blink, not even daring to breathe.

You became aware how tight you had been holding him, and you quickly released him, a wave of hot shame washing over you. Your hair was sticking to your face, your cheeks tingling.

"Such a good girl," he said, lifting his fingers from your pussy and bringing them to his lips, shoving them past his teeth, holding your stare as he sucked your juices off of them before slowly pulling them out with a pop. "Just getting a taste of what I have to look forward to later."

You exhaled a long, trembling breath--your conscious slowly returning.

“Gods,” you gawked, speechless, body still tingling with the aftershock of your climax. “What are you doing to me, you plague of a boy…”

He chuckled darkly, his lips curling into a malicious smile. “Told you I’d ruin you Raven…” he said. “I may be many things, but a liar isn’t one.”

———————

Here’s eight->

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appocalipse · 22 days

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summary: you were way too drunk last night and said some funny things...so, of course, steve had no other option but take you to his place to take care of you. :)

read part 1 here

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Your head hurts.

Everything feels a little weird, in fact, but especially your head, spinning and throbbing and, when you try to pry your eyes open, the sudden harsh light streaming into the room feels like it's physically boring straight through your brain.

"Fuck," you whimper pitifully, eyes squeezing shut once more. Your ears are ringing, there's a coppery film lining the inside of your mouth and, for a terrible second, your stomach churns dangerously. "Fuck."

Someone hums somewhere near your right ear. A low, gravelly, vaguely amused sort of hum. There is absolutely nothing and no one alive on this green earth that would hum in that particular fashion except your best friend.

You peel your eyelids apart with great difficulty. When you tilt your head to the right, you see Steve sitting on the edge of the bed, gazing down at you with a soft look on his face.

Naturally, you proceed to freak the fuck out.

"Jesus Christ," you cry, scrambling backwards until you feel the back of your head slam against the headboard with a resounding thud. The dull throb in the back of your skull intensifies, and you have to fight back the urge to throw up. "Ow! Shit, I—What—what happened? Why are you in my—"

Hold on a second...this is not your room.

You cast an anxious, furtive glance around the unfamiliar setting of Steve Harrington's guest room. Panic floods your veins and has your heart hammering in your chest when you notice that you're clad in only one of his shirts and sweatpants that definitely don't belong to you.

Oh, Dear Lord.

Did something happen last night that you can't remember? Did something — oh, God, no.

Steve raises his eyebrows at you as though he can read your mind. "Relax. Nothing happened, relax, come back down," he coos gently, placing a placating hand on your arm. "And I...I didn't see anything, if that's what you're worried about. Nancy and Robin, uh...they helped you shower and get changed last night. Not me."

You cover your face with both hands, letting out a muffled groan as your memories come trickling back in. You don't remember every little detail from the previous night, but what you do remember is already more than enough to fill you with mortification and regret.

"...you said some pretty interesting things while you were drunk, though."

"Shut up," you mumble, peeking up at him through splayed fingers, "go away."

"Really, though," Steve continues, the teasing glint in his eyes a sure sign that he is very much enjoying your suffering, "who knew you found me so attractive?"

"Oh, Jesus," you mutter, groaning as you slide down to hide underneath the comforter, "where are my clothes? I want to leave now."

Steve snickers but makes no move to get up from his perch on the bed. You can hear the rustling of fabric, like he's adjusting his position as he waits for you to come out from under the blanket. "Clothes are in the wash, sorry," he says, sounding very much not sorry at all. "You, um, thought it was a good idea to lie down on the grass last night."

"Kill me now."

"Nope," he chirps, quite cheerfully so, "can't do that, because then who would watch Back to the Future with me tonight?"

You part the comforter just enough to peer up at him from beneath the thick layer of blanket.

"'Back to the Future'?" you echo, trying to ignore the fact that you feel a little lightheaded when Steve smiles down at you.

He looks nice. He always does, but even more so now for some reason — you're guessing it has something to do with the fact that you just woke up and haven't had the time to mentally prepare yourself for seeing him up close yet.

"Mmhmm. You up for it?"

"I'm pretty sure that my head is literally going to explode any time now."

It's really not that bad anymore, but Steve doesn't need to know that, does he?

He nods seriously in agreement. "Right, because you drank way more than you should've last night. Might have mentioned something about rules and...mhmm, what was it? Oh, yes, dying if I didn't let you touch my hair…?"

"No, I didn't."

"You really did," he tells you, leaning back on the heels of his palms, "but don't worry, it was cute."

"I am very much worried," you say miserably.

Steve lets out a quiet sigh and leans forward again, hands reaching out to tug the blanket down far enough to uncover your face completely. "Come on," he says, "do you need anything? Aspirin, maybe? Food? Water?"

You consider his offer, taking the time to mull it over while you avoid his gaze.

"Why did you bring me home with you?" you ask, curious despite yourself. "Why didn't you just take me home?"

"You, uh...really didn't want me to. Pretty much refused to let go of me all night."

"Steve."

"No, really!" he insists, holding both hands up in surrender. "It was like trying to pry a koala off a tree. You even asked—"

You let out a helpless moan of protest and turn away from him as much as you can, hiding your face in the pillow. Steve laughs, clearly delighted by the fact that he's managed to thoroughly embarrass you in less than ten minutes.

"You asked me if I—"

"I don't wanna know!"

"—would sleep in your bed with you."

"Nope," you whisper, your voice coming out a little garbled due to the way you've pressed your face into the pillows, "don't wanna hear it. Shut up, Steve, oh my God. Please."

"It was very adorable."

"I was drunk."

"Still. Cute."

You prop your head up on your elbow so that you can see him a little better, keeping the blanket held tightly around your shoulders as you do. "Sorry I called you. I don't even remember doing it, Tina just told me to and…sorry."

Steve looks down at his lap, shifting a little uncomfortably on the bed.

"I don't mind," he says, lifting his gaze up to meet yours briefly. "You said you missed me. At the party."

A dry, humorless chuckle leaves you and you cringe when the sudden motion sends a sharp pain lancing through your forehead. "Ow. Of course you would remember that," you say, cheeks heating up.

"Do you...remember everything?"

You blink, momentarily confused by the sudden change in conversation. "Everything?" you ask, more to buy yourself some time than anything else.

"You, um..." Steve trails off, clearly unsure of how to broach the topic with you, "you said I made you feel…stuff inside. That you felt stuff. Or something like that. Do you...remember saying that?"

You can practically feel all the color draining out of your face, leaving behind a blank canvas that hides none of your inner panic.

"Uh...no, no, I don't. Do you have a...I need to, um, use your bathroom, like, right now, if you don't mind."

Steve blinks. "Oh, okay. Sure. I bought you a toothbrush earlier, by the way. It's in the medicine cabinet if...if you want."

"Yep," you say, climbing out from under the blanket with as much dignity as you can muster (which is very little), "yep, okay, thanks. I'm...gonna go do that. Now. Okay, bye."

You spend a good five minutes inside the bathroom splashing water in your face while silently wishing for death to come claim you sooner rather than later. Then, you brush your teeth with the toothbrush Steve left out for you — which is totally not cute, it's not cute, why did he do that, ugh, damn him — before venturing out into the hall.

"Steve?"

"Kitchen," he calls out from somewhere at the bottom of the stairs, "you want pancakes?"

You hesitate.

The idea of staying to have breakfast alone with Steve Harrington seems oddly intimate after last night, a dangerous prospect that will undoubtedly lead to awkward small talk and more teasing. However, he did go out of his way to buy you a toothbrush this morning...

You swallow down the nervousness you feel and pad barefoot down the staircase into the foyer, following the sounds of clinking utensils and soft humming to the kitchen.

Steve looks up from his place at the stove when you appear in the doorway.

"Hey," he greets, giving you a quick once over. "How's your head?"

"Feels like there's a little person in there hitting it repeatedly with a little hammer," you admit, grimacing a little as you come further into the room and sit down at the island. "Thanks, by the way. For helping me out last night. And today. I really am sorry for...um, you know, that."

"'That'?"

You purse your lips and Steve grins.

"Yes, that," you mutter, swiveling your seat from left to right while you watch him attempt to read a recipe on the back of a box of pancake mix. "Drunk me is like, twice as embarrassing as sober me."

"Embarrassing isn't the word I'd use."

"Please," you scoff, "I was pathetic. I could barely walk by myself."

Steve glances back at you. "I didn't think you were pathetic."

You raise an eyebrow at him skeptically.

"Okay, maybe a little pathetic," he concedes with a little snort, "but mostly just…sweet."

"Sweet?"

"Yeah, sweet. Don't know if anyone's ever told you that before."

"Sweet," you say again, the headache suddenly no more than an afterthought. "That's how you'd describe me?"

Steve, apparently having given up on making sense out of the instructions on the back of the box, turns around to lean against the counter behind him and studies you with his arms folded loosely over his chest.

"Yes," he says, tilting his head to the side a little. "Not the word you expected me to say?"

There's something about the way he's looking at you. It's warm and piercing all at once, like he can see right through you. It makes it hard for you to breathe all of a sudden, hard for you to do anything but gape at him like a goldfish that's been pulled out of water.

"Uh, I'm...confused."

"Me too," he admits with a little huff of laughter. "I was thinking about what you said."

"About your hair?"

"No, well, yeah, but—" Steve pauses, dragging a hand down his face with a weary sigh. "Look, what you said to me yesterday, about the things I make you feel, I—"

"I said I'm sorry—"

"Don't apologize," Steve interrupts, shooting you an unamused look, "I'm trying to say something here, come on, give me a sec."

"Right. Sorry. Go on."

"You're not supposed to apologize for apologizing."

"I'm s—okay, right. Mouth shut."

Steve purses his lips to stifle his amusement at your antics. You fold your arms in front of your chest and keep your gaze fixed firmly on the marble countertop as you wait for him to continue.

"I, uh," he says, pushing himself away from the counter so that he can wander over to the other side of the kitchen, where you sit, "I feel things too, you know. With you."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Steve chuckles, scrubbing a hand across the back of his neck as he stops beside you, "'Oh'. Weird, right?"

You'd like to, but can't think of anything clever to say that would serve as a suitable response. You don't think Steve's looking for one, anyway, because he reaches out to tap his fingers lightly on the back of your hand, taking a seat on the stool next to yours.

"S'weird, 'cause I don't know if you meant what you said when you were drunk, or if it was just the alcohol talking, or what."

You shake your head quickly, and then wince because of the way the headache thuds behind your right eye.

"Robin says I'm an idiot and should stop being such a chicken," he continues, with a slight roll of his eyes. "And Eddie says if I don't 'shut up and tell you how I feel soon', he'll do it for me."

You nod, smiling despite your hangover. "Eddie's, uh, got a point, no?"

"Maybe," Steve allows, rubbing absently at the side of his neck.

He lets his hands slide down to the legs of your stool, fingers curling around the metal of each side. You don't quite understand what he's doing until he gives them a light tug, jerking you closer to him without warning.

You let out a little shriek of surprise as you reach up to clutch onto the first solid thing your hands find — his forearms.

"Ah! What—Steve!"

He's got an amused smile on his face, but his eyes are bright and nervous all at once. Steve pushes your stool even closer to him, until your knees knock against his own and he's forced to lean down to keep his eyes on you.

You hold his gaze steadily as he edges closer. "What are you doing?" you murmur, watching his eyes flit downward to track the movement of your tongue as it peeks out to wet your dry lips.

"Not sure yet," Steve hesitates when your lips are a hairsbreadth apart. He watches, half-dazed, half-entranced by the way you stare back at him, unblinking. "But I've got a theory."

"A theory?"

He lowers his head toward yours. You press your hands flat against the hard plane of his chest to steady yourself, fingers splaying over the soft material of his t-shirt as you curl them around the fabric. Steve exhales, and you can feel his breath on your skin, a soft tickle that raises the goosebumps all over your skin.

"Wanna hear it?"

You nod slowly, aware of the way his eyes darken as they trace your face. He's so close that you can make out the fine dusting of freckles and moles that litter his skin, the long fan of his lashes as they flutter to a close. If you moved even slightly, your lips would brush against his.

"What's your…your theory?" you whisper.

You can feel his heartbeat thudding in his chest as he releases his hold on your stool, lifts both hands up to cradle your face instead. He slides the tips of his fingers along the side of your neck, lets his thumb trace your jaw.

"I think," Steve says, and you can tell he's struggling to string two coherent words together when you feel his thumb quiver against your cheekbone. "I think that, uh, you're—Christ, I—"

His nose brushes against yours and you tilt your chin up instinctively, chasing the brief contact. You smirk. "Christ, you...?"

"Shut up," Steve huffs out a breathless laugh. "I'm getting to it."

"Are you?" you tease, wrapping your fingers around his wrist, your turn to pull him towards you gently.

Steve goes easily, moving his hand from your face to brace the back of your neck. "I think," he starts, eyes crinkling at the corners, "that I might be in love with you."

It's such an unforeseen, unexpected confession that your heart almost gives out in your chest.

You gape up at him, at his crooked grin, at his rosy cheeks. "You think?"

He blinks and then squints down at you like he can't decide whether he wants to be annoyed at your antics or kiss you. You hope for the latter, but he says, "What're you, a parrot?"

Shrugging, you're unable to keep your lips from quirking into a grin of your own. "Rude."

Steve's head falls forward and he rests his forehead against yours. You can feel his pulse thundering wildly against the hand you've pressed flat against his chest, and it makes you feel a little better about your own pounding heart.

"M'sorry."

You smooth a hand over his shirt and hook a finger under the neckline. "Forgiven," you tell him.

"Good," Steve says, nudging his nose against yours playfully.

You want to say something else, maybe tease him about his hair or something equally as inconsequential, but he doesn't let you. Instead, he leans down and closes the distance between you with a slow, tentative press of his lips to yours.

Now, Steve's mouth is soft and warm, and he kisses you like he's got all the time in the world. You shiver when he drags his fingers up the back of your neck, tangling them in your hair so that he can pull you closer yet.

You only pull back when the need to breathe becomes too urgent, giggling at the little noise of protest he lets out as you do. But Steve is nothing if not persistent, and he pulls you back in almost immediately, the movement so abrupt that you nearly topple backwards off the stool.

"Steve—I..." you manage to say, between your giggles and the heated press of his lips against yours. "I still...need to breathe, mister."

He huffs out a little laugh against the side of your neck, nips at the sensitive skin in retaliation. You squeal in delight and jab him playfully in the stomach, laughing as he recoils in mock agony.

"Stop laughing," Steve complains, the warmth of his own laughter tickling the underside of your chin when he nuzzles his nose into your neck once more, "come on, you're ruining the moment."

"Wait," you breathe, right before his lips meet yours again, "so...no pancakes, then?"

He drops his forehead against your shoulder and shakes with quiet laughter."You," Steve mumbles into the side of your neck, "are something else, you know that?"

You grin. "Apparently, you like that. Love that...no?"

You can feel him smile, the stretch of his lips curving against the skin of your shoulder.

"Apparently...yeah, I do. I do."

793 notes · View notes

lizzieisright · 8 months

Text

Tranquility

dom!reader x sub!Abby

Summary: You want to help Abby relax and show her she doesn't have to control everything, sometimes she just can let go.

Tags: dom!reader, fingering, praise, consent checks, Abby doesn't really notice she is subbing, very light and vanilla, Sylvia Plath's quotes.

wc: 3.7k

MINORS DON'T INTERACT I'll hunt you for sport

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

You don't jump into power dynamics right away when you get together: Abby doesn't even think about it too much - she just assumes since between the two of you she is the killing machine, big strong scary Abby Anderson, she'll be in charge like she is everywhere else. And you don't seem to mind, even though you had the sex talk way prior to having actual sex (I can't bottom every time if it's something you want, you said to her, and Abby agreed: she liked topping but she could bottom just fine).

So the thought of power dynamics doesn't come to Abby at all, until one day.

You are too good at reading Abby's mood - for some reason you can notice even the small shift in her. It's a superpower that creeps Abby out sometimes, how you can recognise her feelings and act accordingly. You don't make a scene out of it, you don't take care of her like she is a child who can't regulate her emotions, but you're there through it all. You're not scared of her anger or her tears, always calm, and for the first time in years Abby feels like she can rely on someone. Can trust someone fully.

And today Abby is on edge. She is tired, angry and frustrated - the plan for the next supply run isn't safe in her opinion. Abby likes her plans to be foolproof, "if you think they're smart enough think again and dumb it down" type of fool-proof. Everyone said Abby was being ridiculous about it, and maybe she was, but it doesn't make her feel any better.

And you obviously notice it. You watch her from the couch as Abby walks around packing, huffing every two seconds in anger.

"I saw that plan, Abby, it's good. Everything will be fine. Manageable if something goes wrong."

"Jamie is on the team, and this idiot will get us in trouble." Abby growls. "And then someone will have to clean up his mess and someone will get hurt and it will slow us down-"

"Okay. Okay, Abs, stop." You put your book away. "Come here, you need to relax." You pat your lap and Abby stares at you before laughing.

"What, you want me to sit in your lap?" Abby asks sceptically.

"Yeah." You pat your lap again. Abby is unsure and she feels ridiculous: she is not a lap dog, she is a fucking German shepherd.

"I'm too big to sit in your lap, baby."

"Do I look like I give a fuck?" You deadpan. "Big girls need to sit on their lover's lap too. Come here."

Abby blinks. She likes that she is big and tall - it makes her feel powerful, but it comes with a cost. She doesn't get to feel small. And you asking her to sit on your lap opens something so desperate in her she gets scared. Abby knows she won't feel small, but she wants to try anyway. Abby tentatively makes her way to you, still unsure how it will work, but you tug her lightly and she straddles you. Abby feels like she is a giant on top of you, and she doesn't really remember where to put her hands. She settles on your shoulders.

"This is awkward." Abby assesses, frowning.

"It's not. Sit, Abby, I can feel that you're hovering. I'm not going to break, I'm not made of dust." You push at her thighs so she can spread them and finally sit. You seem pretty happy with this, hugging her by her waist and pressing her closer to you. Abby is getting used to this, but it still seems ridiculous to her. She is used to tugging you to sit on her lap, not the other way around.

"Am I too heavy?"

"I like feeling your weight on me. Makes it feel real." You grin and stroke her back. "Really, relax. I can read to you if you want."

Abby doesn't really know what to do. She has no arguments against you, and your lap is very comfortable. As well as being this close to you, feeling your body, your breathing, your warmth.

"Yeah, okay. We can do that."

Abby does what you usually do when she reads: she puts her head on your shoulder and lets you snake your arms around her.

"Good." You comment and hold the book with one hand while you stroke Abby's back with the other one.

You are warm and your smell is comforting, so Abby puts her nose into the crook of your neck and breathes in.

"Yeah. Breathe. Deep big breaths." You say offhandedly as you look through the pages. It's weird. Abby feels safe and taken care of and it feels good, but it is too unfamiliar to be comfortable with it.

"Would it be too childish of me to say: I want? But I do want: theater, light, color, paintings, wine and wonder. Yet not all these can do more than try to lure the soul from its den where it sulks in busy heaps of filth and obstinate clods of bloody pulp. I must find a core of fruitful seeds in me. I must stop identifying with the seasons, because this English winter will be the death of me-" You've read out loud and Abby suddenly resonates with the first line. Would it be too childish of her to say: she wants your care?

"What is this?"

"Sylvia Plath's diaries."

"She sounds dramatic." Abby murmurs into your neck while you are caressing her back. Fuck it feels so good. She is so safe.

"Bitch is all over the place sometimes. But she is a poet."

You kiss Abby's head and she leans into your touch, surprising herself. She isn't usually… needy, but right now something is different. The sudden safety of your arms around her, your calm voice and familiar smell makes Abby feel dangerously vulnerable.

"You feel pretty relaxed." You notice as you now stroking her head, putting all annoying baby hairs behind her ear.

"Yeah. It's so weird though."

You chuckle.

"In what way?"

"Usually it's you who sits in my lap. But this is good. Just weird."

"I think the word you're looking for is unfamiliar."

"Are you a thesaurus?"

You laugh and kiss her forehead. Abby nuzzles her nose into your neck and your breath hitches.

You know Abby doesn't mean to get you horny with her breathing, but you are getting horny.

"Come here." You tell her and Abby lifts her head just enough for you to kiss her. She is warm and welcoming, doesn't rush anywhere and you are not rushing either, just enjoying the kiss. Abby relaxes into you and it surprises both of you - she isn't a person who gives up control easily. Hell, the whole thing started because Abby couldn't deal with people not doing everything like she told them to. But you feel how she puts more weight on you and you buck your hips into her.

"Okay yeah. Still weird, but good." Abby pants into your mouth. You dig your fingers into her ass and press her into your crotch. "Oh fuck."

"Wanna make you cum." You say, panting yourself as arousal takes the hold of you. "What do you think?"

Abby looks at you with a lifted brow.

"You think I'm going to say no?"

"Well." You kiss her jaw. "I don't plan on letting you do anything at all, so, maybe take a moment to think about it."

Abby stares at you as your words settle in. She will what, just lie there and do nothing? It sounds wrong, it sounds like she is going to be out of control, but also…

Also it sounds like the sweetest sin she could commit.

"If you're not sure, we can stop. Like, fully. Or at any point you want to." You stroke her cheeks with your thumbs as you watch Abby. You know she is apprehensive about this idea, but you want her to relax fully and forget about everything. And you know you can give it to her if she just says yes.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. We can do that." Abby smiles bashfully and you kiss her, so fucking grateful for how brave she is.

It's one thing to stare death in her face and win, and the other thing to stare in your lover's face and decide to trust them completely. And any other day Abby would have chosen death, but with you the danger can't get safer than this.

So Abby lets herself relax into you again and just enjoy your touch.

"Thanks."

Abby chuckles, but it turns into a gasp as you move your lips down her neck while your hands are tugging on her shirt. Abby helps you take the shirt and the bra off, and you just caress her sides, looking over her.

Abby knows you like how she looks, but having your attention like this makes her nervous. Your eyes are so dark with hunger Abby wants to look away but she doesn't, as sudden greed for your love washes over her. You look at her like you want to devour her.

"Pretty." You sigh as you smile. "You're so pretty, Abs."

"I don't think pretty is the right word."

"Beautiful?"

Abby huffs but can't help her smile.

"Gorgeous?"

"Stop it." Abby says, playfully stern. "You're so sappy, god."

You grin and kiss her again, shutting her up - if you say she is pretty, she is, and whatever Abby thinks of herself is totally irrelevant. Your lips make a trail from her neck to her shoulder and you gently kiss her freckles, listening to Abby's breathing closely: it gets heavier as you move your kisses down, and these small sighs are the greatest encouragement you can get.

You slowly move one of your hands up and cup Abby's tit, kneading her doughy flesh as she gasps.

"Feels nice?"

"Yeah." Abby murmurs and runs her hand over your hair. It's still hard to let go so she tries to occupy herself in some way. She gently massages your neck and you kiss her just above her nipple. "Yeah, this is nice."

"Good. Let's take your pants off, I need them out of the way."

Your intonation makes Abby throb in her pants - it sounds so commanding and for once in her life she doesn't want to fight it, no, she wants to obey - it's easy with you. Safe.

Abby stands from your lap and you help her take her pants and underwear off, making a small pile on the floor. Abby reaches to tug your shirt off, but you gently push her hands away.

"Relax, baby. Don't worry about anything, okay?" You tug her back into your lap and sigh so happily when you touch her bare skin. "Your job right now is just to be pretty. Can you do that?"

Abby is conflicted: you don't sound patronising, but it should sound patronising, shouldn't it? She stops for a second to understand her reaction and you just watch her. You know Abby needs some time to process what is happening, so you continue caressing her back and her pretty ass that makes you drool while Abby figures out how she feels about your new behaviour.

"Well I can try." Abby shrugs and you smile.

"Thanks. I wanna call you princess, you know?" You kiss her neck and leave a hickey on her collarbone.

"Call me what?" Abby laughs in the middle of her gasp at how ridiculous it sounds, but it's not a bad laugh. It's just embarrassing. "I'm no princess, (y/n)."

"Would you actually mind if I called you that?" You kiss her breastbone and Abby watches you.

"Don't think so." Abby pants and looks at you impatiently as you finally move your lips to her tits.

"Princess." You murmur and look into her eyes while her cheeks become bright red. "My pretty princess." You suck on her nipple gently and Abby gasps, squeezing your shoulders. The pet name turns her on - a lot of things turn her on right now even though they're weird and embarrassing.

You play with her other nipple and Abby presses closer to you, so you let your restraints go and use all your strength to move her closer to the point where her back is arched. Abby sighs, surprised - obviously Abby knows you are strong (not as strong as her, but strong nonetheless), but she never actually experienced it. Maybe you can make her feel small. Maybe you can make her feel like no one else could before.

You slowly move your hands up Abby’s muscular thighs, caressing every line with your fingertips - Abby is too hot for her own good, and the hungry monster that lives inside you claws at your chest, desperate to have its way with Abby and make her forget her fucking name, but you’re patient. You would never push Abby into something she isn’t ready for, especially in sex, but you want to show her an alternative. Show that she can let herself forget her fucking name and it will be safe. Because god knows Abby needs it.

Abby watches your hands in anticipation and you smirk at her when you place your hands on conjunctions of her hips, caressing her hip bones with your thumbs. Abby is soft here, but her V-line makes her look sharp and hard, and it gets to your head.

“I fucking love how strong you are, you have no idea.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea.” Abby chuckles, but she is impatient, so she grabs your hand and moves it down to her pussy.

“Hey, don’t spoil the fun.” You scold her playfully and bring your hand back. “I’m not going to keep you waiting, princess. Relax.”

Abby feels how her face burns when you call her princess again, but it gets her wet, so impossibly wet there's probably a dark spot on your pants under her. Abby grinds her hips down, searching for some friction, and you push your hips up to let her have it. Abby shudders as her clit grinds down on your pelvis and her hands clutch your shoulders almost painfully as she tries to set a pace of her hips.

"This is so hot, Abs. Fuck." You tell her as you watch her get off just grinding on you. You grab her ass and help her grind harder and Abby whimpers quietly, and your brain barely holds back your filthy mouth. You want to tell Abby how good she is, how she is doing such a good job getting herself off, but you hold it back for now.

The friction is not enough and you know it, so you lock her in place with one arm around her waist, praying she'd listen to you, and snake your other hand between your bodies.

Abby is so fucking wet your eyes roll back into your scull from how hard it turns you on.

"You're so wet, princess." You murmur into her ear and Abby whimpers again. "You okay?"

Abby just nods and it clicks. Abby is getting overwhelmed, but she clings to you so you figure out it's a good overwhelmed.

"Do you like it when I call you princess?" You ask mostly to make sure, but it sounds so seductive to Abby, a little mean maybe but in a good way.

"It's embarrassing." Abby admits and squirms around when you cup her pussy. Finally.

"Do you want me to stop?" You ask gently and look in her eyes, serious. Abby looks back, but her eyes are glazed over, she is too horny to care about being embarrassed by this point.

"No. Don't stop." Abby grinds against your hand and you press her closer to make her stop.

"You wanna cum already?"

"You keep fucking teasing me." Abby says, annoyed.

"I'm taking my time." You kiss her cheek and part her folds carefully, circling her clit with two fingers and Abby buries her head into your neck, moaning. You stroke her back to soothe her, but your fingers only get faster, the pressure is featherlight and it drives Abby crazy because it will get her to cum way too fast, and you know it.

"Yeah, that's right, princess. Relax and enjoy, yeah?" You can't stop talking now, desperate to praise Abby and make her feel safe in your arms. "Does it feel good?"

"I- I can't fucking-" Abby moans between her words, clinging to you harder as your fingers get her closer to her release. "Icantfuckingthink" Abby says in one breath and you barely make sense of it.

"Oh princess, don't. Don't think, okay? Be good for me." You pay closer attention to her reaction, not sure if Abby would like it, but she is too out of it now. She whines - fucking hell Abby whines - and presses closer to you.

"Yeah, I'll take care of you, I'll make you feel good." You promise her and slide your fingers down, gently pressing at her hole. Abby arches into your fingers, trying to get them inside, and your heart melts. "You're so cute, fuck. You want my fingers?"

Abby growls at you, refusing to talk, and you chuckle.

"Just nod for me, okay? Or shake your head."

Abby takes a second to process your words and then she nods.

"Good girl."

That makes Abby open her eyes in shock and her walls clench around nothing to push her slick into your hand, and you can tell she liked it.

"Can I call you that, princess?" You slowly push your fingers inside and just move them to feel how soft and hot Abby is. She suddenly grinds down on your hand and you kiss her shoulder. "Nod or shake." You remind her.

Abby nods, her embarrassment totally forgotten by this point: she feels small, safe and taken care of, and the way you talk to her only makes it better. Your stupid spidey senses let you know when to check in with her and Abby never knew it could be this way - that giving consent can turn her on so much because you ask for it like you're dirty talking to her.

And you are so close and you hold her so tightly Abby feels grounded even though she is so overwhelmed she can't think anymore. She just feels, her world only exists in the tactile plane now, and your voice carries her away.

"Yeah, don't think, princess, I want your head empty and your pretty cunt stuffed with my fingers." You murmur into Abby's ear and she buries her face in your neck deeper as you curl your fingers inside her. Abby moans quietly and you feel how you lose any self-control you had before.

You pick up the pace, catching the balance between overwhelmingly fast and not fast enough just so you won't disturb Abby's delicate headspace, and you just listen to her. Abby is not loud, never been, but that what makes it so magical - every sigh turns into a quiet whimper the longer you fuck her, and then you feel it, how Abby clenches around your fingers, her orgasm coming closer.

"You're close, princess, I can fucking feel it. Do you feel it? Does it feel nice when you're so tight around me?"

"Yeah." Abby says in a hoarse low voice and your teeth fucking ache because you want to sink them into her so much.

"Fuck Abby." You kiss her temple and suddenly you're fucking her so hard Abby gets tense in your arms, overwhelmed. "You have no idea what you do to me."

But Abby is not listening to you because you turn your hand just enough so you could thumb her clit and-

"Fuck!" Abby shrieks and closes her thighs on you as she cums. You stop moving your fingers inside her to enjoy how she pulsates around them, but you continue thumbing her clit."Fuck-fuck, stop-" Abby asks when it becomes too much and you obey her.

Abby is panting hard and you just kiss her neck and shoulders, waiting for her to calm down, but you can't help yourself so you start slowly moving your fingers in and out.

"You feel amazing around my fingers, princess."

"Fuck, don't stop, please, don't fucking stop-" Abby whispers and hugs you around your neck. You’re more than happy to oblige, and you can’t help your mean smile as you move your fingers slowly but thoroughly, getting a feel of every centimetre of Abby’s walls.

It doesn’t take more than a few minutes for Abby to whimper and shudder in your arms again, drenching your hand up to your wrist, and you gently kiss her to help her calm down. Abby is limp on your lap, her head comfortably tucked in your neck as she pants. Abby feels exhausted but ridiculously happy, giddy even - you opened something in her, something that freed her vulnerability fully. God, Abby always knew she could trust you, let you watch her back, but the thought she could be so vulnerable and small with you never crossed her mind.

“Do you want to nap, baby?” You murmur in her hair and Abby hums in agreement. “Okay, let me put your shirt back on, yeah?”

Abby reluctantly lets you put the shirt on her and wrap a blanket around both of you as you adjust your position so you’d be lying down while Abby would be on top of you, so it would be comfortable for her to rest. You open your book again while Abby’s breathing evens out.

“I am watching a pale blue sky be torn across by wind fresh from the russian steppes. Why is it that I find it so difficult to accept the present moment, whole as an apple, without cutting and hacking at it to find a purpose, or setting it up on a shelf with other apples to measure its worth or trying to pickle it in brine to preserve it, and crying to find it turns all brown and is no longer simply the lovely apple I was given in the morning?”

The present moment, whole as an apple - Abby doesn’t have to worry about not accepting it, lulled by your voice and your warmth and your smell - after all, the present is all she has.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut #sub!abby

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anantaru · 9 months

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*points mic at you* miss yoru miss yoru thoughts about hsr men reaction to s/o whimpering and crying about their dick being too much for s/o to take?? 💕💕

including. blade & luka

cw. rough, sprinkle of dacryphilia, fem! reader

— blade

your soul practically jumps out of your frame when you feel blade's warm, yet rough fingers wrapping around your wet cheeks, digging his thumbs upwards until he’s got a pretty good hold on you.

"you think you can still take it?" as per usual, it is simply impossible for him to not tease you when he knows he's too big for your little cunt, dominating the conversation, always having to slide up into you slowly, until you're used to his girth and inches, until he fits perfectly in your warm, wet pussy and feels your tight hole contort over him.

you sob, scoff and twist your fingers into his hair, "y-yes!" trying to desperately ignore the heat probably turning your face aflame, but it’s getting harder to ignore how he almost split you in half, with the little, cute noises that escape your lips anyways, with the way blade's cock throbs just that much more when he looks down on you, his entire weight on top of you, his eyes, ominous.

"doesn't seem like it." he murmurs, shallowly grinding his cock into your pussy without trying hard.

only further proving that even the smallest movements could turn you into this, a fucked out mess and it's only because of him, blade can feel his overflowing pride pressing into him, tilting his head when you attempt to find your words, but end up moaning desperately when he feels like fucking you properly again.

— luka

you cry out luka's name in an ensemble of half-broken sobs and whines, but they die down in your throat, which was a first for you because you never felt this overstimulated, ever.

but you knew the reason as to why, because luka was ruthless with you tonight, it‘s a different kind of his touch and handles that you feel settle into your bones and limbs, slowed and perfected, and you can't get enough of it. that‘s the best part.

luka leans in close enough to breathe with you, lips featherlight grazing over each other as he looks into your glowing eyes, his hips pistoling into your soaked cunt. his tense muscles were the mirror of his lust, a clear indicator of an euphoric craving to make you cum and overflow you with his sticky seed.

"it's too much, baby?" he asks you bluntly, the sound edged, your boyfriend surely was confident and smug with such damn smirk plastered on his pretty, rosy lips and in any other cases, you'd love to put him back into his place, because luka knows how it feels when he's the one getting overstimulated, shaking and trembling when you ride his cock and pull out last second so he wouldn't be able to taste his sweet climax.

"yeah.." you babble as his hips make your body jolt up and down, your brows twitching when his hands curl and twist your bouncing breasts, not leaving you a time to think properly and it's almost crazy on how good he felt inside of you tonight, rubbing the head of his girth into your walls and noticing every time you cling down harder.

more moans and chains of nonsense passing your lips, moaning, sighing, telling him that, yes, it's obviously too much too handle but you didn't want him to stop because you were so very close, your hands tensing on his scarlet hair and you notice every time you tug on it he would groan out harder, fucks you deeper, greater when you get rougher on his burning scalp.

"you know what to say if it's too much."

you can discern his comforting carefulness, pulling him down to sloppily make out with him when he picks up the tempo on his hips, "fuck— you’re killing me." he moans into your mouth, his large hands pinning you down the bed and grunting viciously each time at the tight seal you had around his girth.

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #blade x reader #blade smut #luka x reader #luka smut #honkai star rail luka x reader #hsr luka x reader #hsr luka smut #hsr blade smut #hsr blade x reader

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yesimwriting · 5 months

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Of Angels

Part 2 of Of Angels (part 1)

A/n we're back! also this is a friendly reminder that this isn't supposed to be exactly like the movie/book, some things will be a little different bc of practicality, my ability to remember things, or just for fun/for me bc i have more fun writing when i can change things up

Summary: After the very public slight of being assigned to mentor a female tribute from a lower district, all Snow can think about is the uphill battle that winning the Plinth prize will now be. Until, he realizes, that he's been given the first ever district volunteer who seems to have a quality that makes people care about her.

----

The potential consequences of Coriolanus's mistake don't fully manage to force their way to the front of his mind until the door clicks shut.

He's thrown himself, locked himself, in a contained space with the most savage and aggravated group of people in the Capitol. Just in an attempt to get you to trust him.

Coriolanus turns around as casually as he can manage, "Hello."

Unwashed faces blink up at him. Their expressions start off as blank, slowly but surely hardening as they take in his clothing and presence. Someone from the Capitol that isn't a peacekeeper.

One of the larger tributes begins to walk forward. The others glare at him, watching him with a silent rage that makes the space feel like it's shrinking.

The largest of them gets so close that Coriolanus has to push his body towards the vehicle's door. "Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you."

"Do you have any family back home?" The voice isn't strong, but it's so steady despite its smallness that one could mistake it for certainty. Despite the threat that stands in front of him, Coriolanus's attention instinctually shifts towards you. "Or any friends? Maybe a puppy you're fond of?" Your fingers are curled around the edge of the bench you're sitting on. "They'll kill them."

Your tone is too neutral for you to be speaking from personal experience, and yet, you sound so sure. Coriolanus wonders if there's something there worth digging into. Maybe it's just a byproduct of where you're from, a district that's prone to rebellion is often warned about what disobedience can lead to.

The tribute cornering him doesn't move away, but he stills, stiff and uncertain. You look between them innocently. "Besides, he's my mentor." Your hands loosen their grip on the edge of the bench, you push yourself to stand. "I might need him."

"Men-tle?" Another voice chimes in.

"Mentor."

"How come you get a mentor?" The tribute questioning Coriolanus's presence in association to you twists their neck to glare at you.

"You all get one," he forces the sentence out quickly. The last thing he needs to do is make you a target. Getting you to live is going to be enough of an uphill battle as is.

The tribute closest to him takes another intimidating step forward. "He's lying."

"She's the girl that volunteered," the red-headed girl from four--Coral, if he's remembering correctly--sneers, angling her head to glare at you, "Of course they need to keep an eye on her." She then dips her chin downwards, staring you down with mockingly soft eyes, "Is it everything you thought it'd be, princess?"

Volunteering did mark you. He wonders how many remarks you had to put up with on the way here and whether or not they've affected your mental state. The short exchange the two of you shared made you seem together. You weren't overly emotionally or even aggressively closed off.

The determined pout of your lips draws his attention more than it should. You then tilt your head with no warning, matching her condescending expression, "Better, actually."

You draw out the sentence, not once shrinking under District 4's cold stare. Coriolanus's expression instinctively shifts to hint at a smile. Your sarcasm isn't off putting or brash, it's refreshing. It's a flash of fight, of sharp teeth ready to be barred that he hadn't thought you capable of.

The display of potential aggression also doesn't affect your charm at all. Being able to strike back while still holding onto the appearance of kindness is a skill in itself. Coriolanus has to take everything on the cheek publicly to avoid coming off like a starving dog finally snapping.

Those kinds of remarks won't do you any favors in the arena unless you're the kind of person that has the physical strength or skill to back it up. You don't. It's more than just your stature, it's in the way you carry yourself. But still, maybe you'll be entertaining enough under this new structure to score him some points towards the Plinth prize. That is, if he can get you to trust him, if he can convince you to talk about your relationship with your cousin and maybe flash that smile you gave him when you first met for the cameras.

Coral's glare intensifies. She pushes herself to stand, as if to intimidate you, but before she can fully straighten, the world shifts.

Coriolanus doesn't have time to think. He's sliding--falling--back before he knows what's happening. A few of the tributes yelp, one of the younger ones squeaks. Something warm latches itself onto his wrist.

He blinks, his body finally reattaching itself to his mind. The vehicle opened and started dumping out its contents with no warning. In the panic, you had grabbed him.

The vehicle settles, anyone managing to hold onto the metal door looses their hold. Everyone tumbles down a small slope, a mess of bodies bumping into each other when they're not busy hitting the edge of rocks until they land in a heap on the ground.

Coriolanus sits up as soon as his back hits something solid. His head snaps around, taking in his surroundings. The space is made up of jagged, tan rocks coated in dirt. Bars line the perimeter--a cage. This is a cage. Of course following the animals leads to ending up in a cage.

Self disgust and panic knot oddly in his stomach. He stands before he can think of what comes next.

"And here we have them, the tributes for the 10th annual Hunger Games."

His eyes find the people already flocking the bars, the most notable one of them someone he's familiar with. Lucky Flickerman, a usual Capitol programming personality. This, his public humilation, is being streamed on television.

"Oh, and look--" Lucky turns towards him, the cameraman instinctually moving to get him into frame. Lucky turns back to the camera, addressing his audience, "I don't think he's supposed to be in there." He laughs then, the sound jabbing at Coriolanus's side.

An aggravated heat begins to burn through is chest. There's nowhere to duck, no excuse to remedy what he's done to the Snow family name.

"Hey." He blinks, surprised he didn't immediately jump out of his skin. How you stood up so silently is beyond him.

Coriolanus can't think of a way to respond. Here he is, in a cage on display with you, like he's one of the district born, and you're the one attempting to ease him. Confidence, assurance. That's what he should be providing you so that you feel the need to--

You place your hand over his. The contact runs just as hot as the humiliation searing through him, only, this is a different kind of warmth. A much steadier, much more agonizing sort of warmth.

His eyes finally find yours. You look more tousled than before, one of your hair ribbons missing and dirt smeared against the apple of your cheek. "Own it."

You whisper the instruction so confidently it almost feels like this is natural to you. Owning it does feel better than being consumed by his embarrassment and accepting the destruction of his family name, but part of the steadiness comes from you. The realization that you're capable of that claws at him.

He nods, eyes instinctually dropping to avoid your expectant stare. The white rose is still safely held between your fingers. He stretches a hand forward, taking the flower by its stem. Your eyebrows draw together, but you let him. Coriolanus breaks off the end of the stem and carefully tucks the flower behind your ear.

You hold still, even as he takes the time to smooth your hair into place.

"Well, that's not something you see every day." Lucky's voice snaps him out of it.

Coriolanus takes you by the arm, walking you up to the camera's. He keeps his expression as casually bright as possible. "I'm Coriolanus Snow."

"And who is she?"

He expects to have to answer that, but you give him your full name without missing a beat, your voice smooth and sweet like honey. "And who are you?"

The cameraman lets out a small laugh at your confusion. "Be nice," Lucky mumbles, "Not everyone has a TV." He then turns back to you, "I'm Lucky Flickerman, Capitol weatherman, TV personality..."

"Well, it's nice to meet you," Lucky says into his microphone, "You're the girl who volunteered."

Coriolanus watches your reaction as best he can from his peripheral vision. Your lips pull downwards slightly. There's something almost sad about it, but it's done in such a respectable manner that he can't imagine anyone minding it.

You confirm with a slight nod of your head, "Yes."

Lucky takes the microphone back, "Now why would you do a thing like that?"

For the first time, a hint of cracking presents itself in your expression. It's minor, just the pull of your eyebrows, but he can't help but hold his breath as he waits for your reply. "For my cousin."

"And she's back home, right? You're from 12?"

You nod again, the motion small, "Yes. She's with my mother, her aunt."

"Well, that was a very brave thing," he commends, almost surprisingly serious, "Not many people are willing to die in someone's place." Your expression wavers, Lucky moves on before it can matter. "And you're?"

"Coriolanus Snow," he says smoothly, "I'm a student at the Academy."

"And you were...told to come here?"

Coriolanus breezes past the speculation in Lucky's tone, "I was told to present my tribute."

Lucky nods, turning on the easy, camera ready smile, "And present her you did."

"Excuse me," a tiny voice mumbles. You instinctually look down. A girl that can't be much more than maybe 7-years-old, "Who was the girl you volunteered for?"

You blink at the loaded question, "Uh--she's my cousin, and her name is Marigold, we--we call her Mari." The little girl blinks at you, watching you like you're something foreign. Which, he guesses, you technically are. "And you know what? She kinda looked like you when she was little."

The little girl beams, "I like your bows."

"Thank you," you hum brightly, like the compliment truly does mean the world to you.

You unlink your arm from his. Coriolanus watches you unsurely as you reach both hands to the side of your hair. You pull at the ribbon on one side of your head, unraveling it expertly. "Would you like one?"

The girl beams, nodding her head enthusiastically. You lean forward so that you're about eye level with the girl. You hand her the short piece of ribbon. The girl giggles before running off with her prize.

"Aw, isn't that cute?" Lucky's speaking to the camera as he starts to walk forward, "Come down, folks, and see these tributes before it's too late. And I do mean, too late."

Lucky disappears, walking as he continues to talk to his audience.

"You gave her your..." He gestures in the general direction of where the ribbon had previously sat.

You shrug, "Oh, I think the other one fell out on the way here. They're impractical, but I didn't--I didn't think I'd be in them for so long."

There's something he should say to you. Probably something comforting, assuring.

"Okay." The stern voice of a peacekeeper. Coriolanus should have known that it was only a matter of time. One of them clasps his shoulder, the other grabs his arm. "You're not supposed to be in here."

He's pushed back before he can speak to you. "Okay," he mumbles, "I'm go--"

You grab his arm before he can obey, "Bring us food." The words are hard, urging, "Please, I haven't eaten anything since before the reaping."

He nods once, pausing long enough to force the peacekeeper to push him back again. Coriolanus starts walking, flanked by the peacekeepers, his eyes trained on what's directly in front of him.

As they pass where the group had initially landed, his eyes find a bright speck of ivory white. A hint of brightness hidden by rocky dirt and grime. Your ribbon.

Coriolanus wonders if it's something you'd want back, something you'd spend your time searching for. You already gave away the other one, it can't have mattered that much. It's likely just some repurposed scrap.

He doesn't know what he's doing as he bends down under the guise of adjusting his shoelace. He's not sure what his goal is until his hand reaches forward, grabbing the ribbon.

"Okay," one of the peacekeepers hurries him, bending down to place a forceful hand on his shoulder, "Hurry up."

----

His apartment is heavy with silence. His grandma'am and Tigris have been asleep for hours now, resting the way he should be.

It's everything that's happened today. That's what's stealing sleep from him. There's a lot to do, a lot to think about if he's going to pull this off and win the Plinth prize. There's an uncertain charm about you. It's as if you have a greater understanding of what it's like to be civilized than the rest of them. That's something to work with, isn't it?

You mentioned needing to eat. Another obstacle that his financial predicaments have placed in his way. He'll have to take a risk he's taken so rarely--taking food from the Academy's lunch in order to bring you something. You'll be of no use to anyone if you faint in the arena.

There's more to think about, to plan. He could stop by tomorrow after his usual classes if Dr. Gaul doesn't orchestrate any specifics. And maybe even then. It'd be ideal to convince you that he cares about you more than any of the mentors care about their tributes. The more you think he's working for you, the more you'll work for him.

That's why he's awake. He shifts, moving from his back to resting on his side. All of this, all thoughts and analysis of you, are extremely practical.

He wipes at his eyes, forcing himself to sit up. He finds his discarded uniform, left folded neatly on his small desk. Without thinking, Coriolanus reaches deep into the uniform's pocket, digging through it until his fingers brush against something smooth and cool. He pulls out the partially stained, ivory ribbon. Truly practical.

----

Taglist (tagging people who were asking about part 2, if this is annoying, i'm so sorry pls lmk if you don't want to be tagged) : @juleshaters @cosmicsully @edb954 @h-l-vlovesvintage @darknessdevil25 @mavkaorlova @astarborntowrite @karmaswitch @daughter1of2anita3dearly @zucchinimalfoy @madislayyy @weaponb33 @darlingisntit @deamus-liv @etheriaaly @clintsupremacy @spookyconsultingcriminal @dylanstilinskiposts

#the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger games x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes x reader #coriolanus x reader

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muchlovekatia · 8 days

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✧ ˚ · . 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐈𝐍𝐆 — theo nott.

˗ˏˋ꒰ muchlovekatia ꒱

.ೃ࿐

⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔹

theo nott x reader: ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

skiing.

warnings! :

none :)

〰️

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

you weren't too good of a skier, but compared to theo, you might as well have signed up for the olympics.

in the hour he agreed to ski with you, he had fallen twice on the bunny slopes, and 5 times more on the hills you practically begged him to accompany you on.

the whole time, he was sending you glares that could've killed if it was possible, his lips twisted into a frown. it might've been the cutest thing you ever witnessed, and although you couldn't quite slant your lips on his without your goggles getting in the way, you always tried.

but if you thought theo falling in the stupidest and most surprising ways on the slopes was funny, then this would kill you with laughter.

"i forgot how to get off the ski lifts," he confessed halfway up, your skis occasionally knocking into his. slanting your eyes to his own, you found genuine terror there as he peered down at the white flurries below.

"and you're telling me this now?" children's laughter rang clear. it truly was pretty, so high up, yet theo barely seemed to notice it. you giggled, grabbing his hand. despite sending you a withering look of anger, your boyfriend squeezed your palm so hard your hand ached below its glove.

"i'm gonna fall..."

"oh, you'll be fine." you shook your head, smiling up at him. "if you do, the most you'll get is a bruised hip and a years-worth of crippling embarrassment—"

he bat your arm, huffing and looking the other way. laughter marinated in your chest, even as you leaned over and pecked his cheek. "i'm kidding," you drawled.

"aren't loving girlfriends not supposed to wish death upon their boyfriends?" your kiss was enough to make him turn your way. the whole reason you did it in the first place.

"you won't die.." a smile. "unless you do."

theo smacked your goggles, sending your head rearing back as you cackled. you were moving closer to the end of the lift, and he did not seem one bit pleased by the revelation. "hold my hand."

still chuckling, you mumbled an agreement, grabbing his palm and squeezing.

"ok, lean forward." he inspected the way you strained your back, mimicked the stance. "yea, like that. put your rods in your freehand." you nodded to the two poles, which he moved to his other glove. "good. now... just—"

his whole body tensed, and you were already too close to the edge to rattle off any more rules. inhaling a sharp breath, his and your skis slid across the wood. "ok— up now," you instructed, and he followed after you, coming to a stand. when he didn't fall flat on his face or flat on his back, he retracted his hand from yours and pumped his fist in victory. spoke too soon.

theo forgot skiing meant keeping your feet on the ground most of the time, and he lifted his foot and stepped directly on the tip of his ski as you both slid down a bit, taking a not-so-graceful tumble.

5 minutes later, and you were still laughing your ass off. he gave up after that.

working on a one-shot guys 💪💪

also might post again tonight. look at me being productive and shit agh 😋😋

#harry potter #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x slytherin!reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #katiasworks #theo nott fic #theo nott fluff #theodore nott fluff #theonottsmut #theo nott rec #theodore nott fic #theodore nott smut #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fanfic #theodore #💼:: katiasworks

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jade-len · 3 months

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bad svsss fanfic/au idea: random marriage/guidance counselor transmigrates into PIDW, sees the absolute mess of lord luo bingge and his harem, goes "jesus fucking christ", and makes bank.

and like. they're probably not even that good of a counselor. it's just that people lack any sense when it comes to bingge, and since he's the emperor, that means pretty much everyone. also because therapy doesn't exist. i'll give them some credit though, whatever they hell they're doing works.

now, while sqq and sqh are having a grand ol' time in SVSSS with their husbands, this random, average counselor has to deal with being in the care of lord luo bingge. no wife beam. no anything. all they have is some basic empathy and common sense people just tend to lack in here for some reason.

it's even worse considering the fact that they've arrived after luo bingge completed his plan and became the hailed demon emperor. now, while they've never full on read the entire thing, they've heard enough from a close friend who has kept up with it to know the main character is the literal embodiment of the cycle of abuse and heavy unresolved issues. like, it got to the point where they started to unironically use luo bingge as an example of how to not deal with conflicts and trauma.

really, how could people like bingge? seriously, it's just another edge lord main character with way too many glamorized issues and abuse. red flag! (hey, who the hell is peerless cucumber and why does he keep defending binghe? lord, have mercy on these impressionable young men...)

so, after being kidnapped taken in by bingge and his wives after the bunch claimed that they were a "wise man" or whatever (all they did was offer some basic relationship advice to some poor woman, who turned out to be ning yingying, who told the other wives, and it just spiraled from there), they were deemed "special" and given their personal office and a room! hey, better than being on the streets in this god forsaken hentai-ish world, i guess.

quickly, a routine was established. one that, especially, consisted of luo bingge outright ignoring them. which, they weren't complaining about!

wake up, eat, meet with multiple of the wives, spend their hard earned money on delicious delicacies, meet with more wives, sleep, repeat. the most interaction they had with the demon emperor was him ordering them around, but even then, that was uncommon. it was, surprisingly, easy to fall into the rhythm of this undoubtedly odd life. you're upset that lord luo hasn't spent much time with you? maybe you can ask! the other wives are being annoying? remove yourself from the situation. you're upset that lord luo has so many other wives? oohhh... yeah. uhm.

luo binghe only tolerated them, they knew that. and they're sure that, if not for multiple of his wives insisting on keeping them, they'd be dead for even daring to be so "intimate" with them. a little bit of a shock, if they do say so themself. like, insecure much (something that they'll probably never get used to is the fact that bingge built an entire little village for his wives, though)?

but that's not the most shocking thing, oh, no.

it's this.

"i- i tried.. i tried to take the.. hiic-- other.. other shizun w-with me.." lord luo binghe, the powerful, almighty demon emperor, trembles and sobs. "b-but he! he wanted to-- s-stay with that.. stupid, inferior version of my- hic- self.."

despite the mountain of gold they're getting paid in, is it really enough to deal with this? probably not. will they get killed for witnessing luo binghe's vulnerability? perhaps. is he a dictator, the embodiment of the cycle of abuse, and a crazily vengeful bastard? definitely.

"it's-- s' not.." his voice breaks. something else inside of them probably does, too. "..n-not, hiic- fair."

should they feel bad? they shouldn't. he's hurt much too many people. isn't it a little late? can he even be redeemed? because, they are absolutely not here to try and "fix" him.

and yet.

"can you breathe, lord luo? deep breaths, don't focus on anything else but me, okay? i'll do it with you too. can you do that for me? there, there. you're doing a very good job, do you know that? here, when i'm upset, sometimes i like to do something called, '5-4-3-2-1'. i promise it'll help, binghe. would you like for me to do this one with you too?"

they can't help but think about a small, lonely boy on qing jing peak.

. . .

after that, bingbing slowly starts to come around and develop an actual bond! cool!! he just,,, can't believe only his wives were granted the "wisdom". how foolish was he?

"i know i'm only a mere human, but i can tell that lord luo is... masking things. you can put that away for now, okay? i promise, everything you say here will be confidential information, and it'll never leak... no no there's no enemy spies here-"

"i'm not even going to question this. you go back there right now and deal with it yourself if you cannot respect me or the other clients. aka, your wives."

"no, it's not stupid. this is how people help themself, and it's okay if you want to do it. as long as it doesn't hurt you or anybody. it helps, and that's all that matters."

"oh? one of your wife confronted to you about it? i'm glad to hear that, she's doing well, i see. i'm also happy that you're listening too, really."

"yes, and when something like that happens, you--- no- don't pull out xin mo now. what did we say about that? good job."

"here, can i touch your hands, binghe? there we go. when you're unsteady, you feel the need to pick at your skin, correct? well, let's try a few different things to keep those hands busy! it must be quite stressful being an emperor. how about we start with crocheting! it's quite popular back at my hometown."

"your mother sounds like a wonderful woman, lord luo. hey, how about you take a small break and visit her, okay? you want me to come with you? of course, it'd be an honor."

and thus, the story of the poor transmigrator counselor continues on with luo bingge added to their schedule!! this could be read as romantic or platonic lol. but i was thinking of this as luo bingge obtaining his first actual friend. it takes a long while due to bingge's... bingge-ness, but eventually it all works out lmao

#they dont give a shit about if they live or not tbh if lbh is acting wack hes acting wack #intended it to be more crac induced yk but... idk with bingge its a little hard bc i get sad lmao #sorry if it seems rushed this has just been sitting in my drafts for weeks uh oh #svsss ideas #svsss #mxtx svsss #luo bingge #pidw luo binghe #luo binghe #pidw #the scum villain's self saving system #i'm so tired

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lovingmattysposts · 4 months

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Eastside 11

P2 P3 P4 P5 P6 P7 P8 P9 P10 P12 P13 P14 P15 P16 P17

summary: growing up in the outskirts of Boston wasn't really pretty. Life wasn't that great for most people, most people. You had Matt and no one fucked with you when Matt was standing by your side. The chief's daughter and the bad boy deliquent. A perfect love story?

warnings: sad, mentions of drugs, fighting

matt pov

I waited. I waited for 2 hours and she never showed up. I paced back and forth of the tracks. What if something happened to her? She's not responding to any of her texts. I was freaking out. I scrolled anxiously through my texts messages that were left unanswered, but they were read.

She read them, but she didn't answer. "What?" I whispered to myself as I scrolled through the now read messages. I felt my phone start to buzz before seeing Nick's name pop up. I slid it open and pressed my ear against the phone.

"Hello?" I breathed. "Matt where are you? What happened with Slim?" He asked through the phone I let out a breath and looked down at my feet. "Yeah everything's handled. He took the money and just said to get it to him by the end of the week" I explained. Nick let out a breath.

"Okay good. Everything okay with Y/n?" He asked. I sighed. "I got Slim off my back about it, but she was suppose to meet me at the tracks two hours ago and she hasn't shown up" I swallowed, feeling worry start to fill my chest.

"She read all the messages I sent her I just don't know what she's thinking" I said pressing my hand against my face. Nick sighed though the phone. "Listen she's probably just upset about the dance thing. Just give her some time, Chris started throwing up blood. You need to come back" He explained making me look around me.

Where was she?

"Alright, I'm coming" I breathed before shutting off the phone and glancing around the tracks one more time before stepping off them and walking back in the direction of my house. I knew she was at home, but something told me something was wrong.

y/n pov

The next day was hard. I barley moved out of bed. I just woke up and stared at the wall, unable to move. Unable to think about anything other than the absolute pain corsating through my body. I felt like a shell of a human being.

Matt texted me what felt like 100 times last night. I responded to none of them. I felt like I never even knew him. A drug dealer? How could I be so dumb? Now looking back on it. Every sign that I missed, he made it so obvious. How did I miss it?

Either way it didn't matter. None of it did. Nothing he ever did or said. Absolutely none of it. I guess that's what hurts the most. I just blinked at the wall. Not wanting to get up, start my day, live, breath, exist. Fuck. It. All.

I heard my door creek open. I glanced over seeing my dad peeking his head through the door. I glanced away from him looking back at the wall. He stepped into my room before slowly shutting the door. I didn't react as I felt him sit down at the edge of my bed.

"Do I need to kill him?"

I didn't respond. Staring blankly at the wall, tears filling my eyes. He sighed as he moved closer to me and placed his hand on my head. "Honey, you're scaring me" He whispered looking down at me. I didn't look at him as a stray tear fell from my eye onto my cheek.

I wish I could turn this into a sweet moment with my dad. But I couldn't feel, I couldn't speak. I didn't even want to look at him. "I could arrest him, I'm still a cop you know" He smiled down at me. I didn't even try to wipe the tear as it slid down my face.

"I could probably find something on him" He sighed. "A parking ticket, assulting an officer. Fleeing from police, well me." He said motioning to himself. I just listened to him speak.

"I could try to frame him" He chuckled, but stopped as he looked down at my face. He rubbed my shoulder with his hand. "Honey, you have to eat something, you've been in your bed all day" He stated softly. I closed my eyes trying to hold back the tears.

The reason I wasn't talking, I wasn't reacting, is because when I do all I do is cry. I didn't have anything to say. I had no fucking words left in my throat. I barley had any liquid felt in my body.

"I could order some food from the taco place you love" He said leaning down to me. "I'll even let you get the queso" He smiled. I shook my head, food sounded disgusting.

"No tacos? You never say no to taco night" he said looking down at me. I closed my eyes.

"Eat it"

"No" He laughed pushing it away from his face. I frowned sticking out my bottom lip. "I don't want all that nasty shit on my taco" He laughed looking down at me. I looked down at the taco in my hand.

"Are you kidding? This is the best fucking taco on the planet and for 3 buck? A steal!" I cheered standing up on my bed. He laughed shaking his head looking up at me. I tilted my head down at him as he smiled sheepishly up at me.

"It's not my fault you like meat and cheese you basic bitch" I joked. He raised his eyebrows as he stood up, matching my height on the bed. "Oh yeah?" He laughed looking at me. I stepped back smiling. He reached down grabbing my sides, attempting to grab me. I laughed as I struggled against his grip, holding the taco out of the way.

He picked me up before dropping me onto the bed and hovering over me, causing us to erupt into a fit of laughter. "Matttt, my taco" I whined as it was now slightly crushed. He shook his head looking down at me, before connecting his lips to mine. I kissed him back smiling, before pulling back and taking a bite out of the taco.

He shook his head as he looked down at me. "Taco first, boyfriend later" I said as I chewed. "Boyfriend now, taco later" He smiled pushing the taco out of my hand and attempting to kiss me again but I moved my head.

"I'm eating!" I laughed. He buried his head into my neck laughing.

I opened my eyes letting out a breath at the memory so long ago, before he started mysteriously disapearing. How could it all be fake? Why would he do that to me? Fake it? I didn't understand.

"Maybe you should you pick it up? Get out of the house for a bit? Breathe some real people air" He sighed. I swallowed the lump in my throat. I attempted to take in a breath but it was choppy and caused a sob to come out of my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut as I cried.

My dad took in a breath before wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into a hug. I cried against his shoulder as he hugged me.

"I know it hurt now, but I promise one day it won't" He said as I cried. Maybe that was true, but right now it felt like this pain was never ending and that it would never go away.

matt pov

She still didn't respond to any of my texts the next day. I started to get worried. So I called her. No answer. I pulled my phone down before pulling on my shoes. I just had to make sure she was okay. She was starting to scare me. She didn't seem that upset when I left her at the dance. I just had to know she was okay.

It wasn't long before I turned the street down to her house. I looked down at my feet as she walked. I had an uneasy feeling in my chest. Like something was wrong. I looked up before seeing y/n walking towards me.

She paused, froze when she saw me. I stopped too, my face turning into confusion from the way she was looking at me. She turned on her feet before walking the other direction. I furrowed my eyebrows before walking after her.

"Y/n" I stated. She didn't stop walking, if anything she walked faster. I shook my head as I ran up to her and grabbed her arm. All of the sudden she turned harshly before I felt her hand come up to my cheek fast and hard.

I pressed my hand to my cheek that was now burning from the impact. I looked up at her in shock. Her eyes were red and puffy, like she'd been crying for hours but her face wore an angry expression.

"Y/n, what the fuck was that?" I said looking down at her as I rubbed my face. She shook her head as tears filled her eyes once more. I shook my head as I placed my hands on her shoulders.

"Y/n what's--"

"Don't touch me" She said through gritted teeth stepping away from my touch. I froze looking at her. She shook her head as she looked off to the side, her face looked in pain.

"I can't believe you-" Her voice broke and she swallowed looking back at me. "You're a liar" She almost whispered looking at me. I stepped forward and she stumbled backwards.

"Baby, what are you talking about?" I breathed looking at her, begging, pleading for her to give me some sort of answer one why she was so upset. "I'm not your baby!" She yelled at me. My heart dropped.

"How many 'baby's' do you have? How many girlfriends huh?" She asked shaking her head. My face turned in confusion and I just shook my head as she looked up at me, completely broken.

"I just just a good fuck huh?" She shrugged nodding at me. My face dropped. "Thats all?" She tilted her head a me, tears flooding her eyes. I felt like my entire world was falling at my feet. No.

"Y/n--No you don't understand-" I said reaching for her. She ripped her arm away. "Y/n please, listen to me. I can--I can explain everything just listen to me please" I stuttered quickly trying to get the words out, she shook her head.

"Don't bother, Cecilia already told me everything" She said looking at me. My face dropped. Cecilia? No. God, please no. I shook my head. "You're gonna believe her words over mine?" I breathed shaking my head. What the hell did she say to her?

"No" She shook her head. "I believe your words against yours" She mumbled glaring at me. I shook my head in confusion. "She took a video" She shook her head.

"You're a drug dealer?" She shook her head looking at me. My heart dropped to my toes. I sighed looking down at my feet. "Yes okay? Yes I deal drugs, but y/n I am not cheating on you. I just had to say it, you don't understand--" I said shaking my head.

"Don't bother trying to explain it, I'm not listening" She mumbled turning on her on feet and starting to walk away. I ran after her, grabbing her shoulders and turning her around.

"Get off me!" She screamed, making me drop my arms from her. I shook my head my eyes filling with tears. "There's no one else. I promise, Y/n they were going to hurt you---I-I had to make sure they didn't so I just said--" I said quickly letting the words fly out of my mouth.

"I don't think you say "waste your time on Y/n see if I care", really makes me think you were trying to protect me" Tears streaming down her face as she spoke to me. I can't lose her. I fucked up so bad. I cannot lose her.

"I promsie you I was. Please y/n you're my everything. I can't lose you. I promise--" I said shaking my head pleading with her. She shook her head.

"I'm tired of your fucking promises, because you're a fucking liar." She spat looking at me, shaking her head. I felt my heart pounding against my chest.

"I'm not your baby i'm not your everything, I'm not your girlfriend" She almost whispered before reaching up and pulling off the necklace around her neck and snapped it, throwing it to the ground next to my foot.

My heart broke, along with the necklace as I stared at the necklace on the ground. I swallowed looking up at her as she walked off. I looked up, biting my lip from the tears starting to spill over my eyes.

As I watched my entire life walk away from me.

"Is everything okay?"

I've been staring at the wall for hours. Unable to move. Unable to think. I just wanted to disappear. Nothing else in the world mattered to me more than her, and I was stupid enough to forget that and now I've lost that completely.

I didn't look up at Nick as he spoke to me. I just glanced down from the wall to the necklace in my hands, running my thumb over it. Nick looked down at my hands and he took in a breath before walking over next to me.

"I'm sorry Matt" He breathed wrapping his hands over my shoulders. I turned away from him not wanting Nick to see me cry. I don't think he's ever seen me cry before.

"How's Chris?" I said barley above a whispered. Nick sighed releasing his arms around me. "He's gonna be okay, he's sleeping right now" Nick nodded. I nodded looking down at my feet. Silence fell between us as I looked over at him and he scanned my face.

"Nick" I started looking at him. "I don't wanna do this anymore" I whispered shaking my head. He just looked at me for a second before licking his lips and looking towards the side.

"I know, I don't either" He agreed, almost shocking me. "After seeing Chris get hurt I-" Nick sighed looking down and then looking over at me. I just studied his emotions.

"It's not worth it" I finished shaking my head. He nodded looking at me. I looked down at the necklace in my hands. "None of this was worth it" I said quietly. Nick stood up off the couch and looked down at me.

"Matt, we can't get out of it" He shook his head, making me look up at him. I furrowed my eyebrows. He shook his head running his hands through his hair. "Slim he--He'll come after us if we stop supplying it's not that simple" Nick said shaking his head. I looked down at my feet.

I took in a breath before throwing the necklace across the room and pressing my hands to my face. Nick just looked down at me, unfazed by the sudden outburst.

"Well fuck Nick--We have to think of something!" I yelled standing up looking at him. He glared at me. "You think i haven't thought of every outcome of this situation Matt?" He yelled back at me. "He goes down he's dragging our asses with him!" He screamed at me. I clenched my jaw looking down at my brother. I just shook my head.

"Well think of something else" I glared him. "I lost my girlfriend" I said shaking my head. Nick just looked at me. "And that may not mean a whole lotta shit to you Nick, but she was my everything--I can't survive without her--I--" I turned my head feeling the tears start to fall out of my eyes.

"I need her" I almost whispered as Nick stepped forwards and wrapped his arms around me as I cried against him. I heard a creak in the floorboard making me look up. I saw Chris walking over to us. I wiped my eyes as he approached us.

"I agree" He said looking at us. "We have to get out of this" Chris said looking up at Nick, then back down at me before wrapping his arms around me as well as Nick.

tag list: : @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @miastromboli @secret-sturniolo @sturnsclutter @sturniolodreamz @paper-crab @chrisolivia4l @mwah0mwah @recklesssturniolo @ejswift @kitaysworld @meg-sturniolo @nickmillersn1gf @fr3shl0ve @adrianaturnedpretty @oversturn @ghostgurlswrld @flowerxbunnie @ilytrinsworld @lustfulslxt @kiarastromboli @gemofthenight @blahbel668 @haunted-headset @sturnybabes @bethsturn @d3adlyclassrat @sturnybabes @mattsbitch @chrisluvbot @nickenthusiast @sturniolossmut @biimpanicking @iloveneilperry @chalametbich @dsmja @bernardsleftbootycheek @lovingsturniolo @aoxash @idrkk-123 @gingerbreadgodofhyperdeath @babagurlrichey

#matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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iridescentdove · 7 months

Note

👏I👏AM👏TIRED

of seeing so many Yandere! BSD x Reader, and it’s always the character or everyone being Yandere for Reader, I have to request a Platonic! BSD x Yandere! Teen! Reader, in which Reader is in any organization of your choice, and since Reader is underage, they see said organization as their family, precious people that they hold dear to their hearts, and don’t wish for any of them to die or leave and abandon them. This triggers their Yandere instincts, and ultimately they kill anybody who’s hurt their darlings in any way or attempts to "steal" their attention or worse, guide them away from Reader.

LONELINESS NO MORE.

platonic!bsd x yandere!teen!reader

A/N: It's nice to go a bit gruesome sometimes lol- anyways, so I just decided to choose the PM for this.

Let's just say you were similar to Dazai in a way. As a homeless young child, you had no home or family and friends to even call your own.

And to say the least? It was a little lonely.

This was something rather different, as you grew up to have an understanding that the world is never fair. Even before being taken into the Port Mafia by MORI, you were already much of an unhinged criminal yourself.

In a way, it was bad due to how young you were, but given this was a wretched world on it's own – many things can happen.

You killed, you stole, you did many things. At some point you probably rivaled Dazai's crime list because yours looked like an entire fucking receipt.

And that is what lesd you to the mafia.

MORI had found you, and went 'fuck it', deciding to just grab you and take you back with him to the base.

Well at first – you got a bit defensive, not knowing his real intention and thinking of fighting back yourself. But it was when he gave you new clothes, gave you food, and actually took responsibility of you was when you realized.

This man was just ... taking care of you.

And for the first time? You were really excited. It didn't take very long for you to grow accustomed to the Port Mafia.

Sure they made you do dangerous and gruesome missions, but you were used to it honestly. So it didn't matter that much. You met new faces and grew very attached to them, the dreaded loneliness that creeped into your heart grew into–

Obsession.

Yes, that's right. You found no other reason to dislike them at all, and they treated you like no one else ever did.

Like family.

CHUUYA was rather nice to you, despite his aggression and the rough edges he seems to pull off. Since you're underage, he drinks grape juice with you. Lmao ye, we love that shit. You liked being around him, defending him against accusations and giving him a shoulder to lean on.

He was like a brother to you. You adored most things about the fancy hat man. Scratch that, everything about him.

He releases one of those rare genuine smiles – mostly only to you, and he just thought you were the sweetest.

Oh, how wrong he was.

It was only one simple conversation. CHUUYA was talking to another mafia members in the lower ranks, discussing about the topic for the next PM meeting at hand.

Of course at first glance, they didn't look close at all. Just a normal chat between acquaintances. But did it make you mad?

Obviouely it did.

The very next day, the orange haired-man was looking for the same said man he spoke with the day before. Yet he was rather confused to see he wasn't around.

What the hell? Well that was weird, he could have sworn that he asked to meet them in this same spot right now.

Well, guess he wouldn't be meeting with them after all. In the distance, you were smiling – hiding that dead, cold expression on your face as you wiped the blood off the saw, a few splashee of blood and guts on the weapon.

But of course, you wouldn't let him know anything~ ♡

And simply, KOUYOU made it much easier. She was like a sweet, elder sister that spoiled you and taught you everything that you needed to know.

You simply loved her, and loved the times when you'd just hang around each other and dress one another up in various clothes. Be it trendy outfits or putting makeup on one another.

She took care of you as she should, and she grew very attached as well. KOUYOU was rather protective and sweet.

So when you saw her spoiling another girl in the picture, you were fucking livid.

How dare she pay more attention to another kid than you?

She was treating KYOUKA in private as if she was more important than you ever were. And it began to hardem your heart once more, growing angry at your elder sis paying more attention to some useless assassin.

You were way better than her, stronger even.

So imagine how relieved and prideful you felt when that girl had left the mafia to be with the detective agency instead. She wasn't even loyal! She doesn't deserve to be in the PM!

It left KOUYOU feeling agitated and sad, so you did what a younger sibling would do. You were the one comforting her, even manipulating her with your sweet words. You lured her in and had her give you more attention than before.

Just like how you wanted it to be.

AKUTAGAWA was honestly a tough nut to crack. You can easily tell he doesn't care about you at all. Well, he'd acknowledge your abilities a little but that's all you're getting.

But that won't stop you from killing those who tried to get even the slightest close to him.

After all, family members must stay with one another forever.

You didn't really mind much about that blonde girl who admires him and follows him around. It's not like she can take him away, he doesn't give a damn about her.

Plus, his sister was very nice! She gave you the love you needed, and she actually cared. Even though her brother was pretty cold, you'd think she also was – but in reality, GIN is a sweet, somewhat shy girl who gave you gifts and attention.

No matter which mafia member it was – wheneve ryou were with them, you were so sweet and caring, such an adorable teen who looks out for all of them and their wellbeing.

Yet behind closed doors, while they weren't looking, you glared daggers at other kids or people they payed attention to, your greedy self wanting all of it to yourself.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't!

You never held back. You spilled their guts out, you ripped out those fools' hearts – crushing it under your foot, knowing you deserved the love more than their ignorants asses ever did.

And most of all? No one noticed a thing. MORI had continued to send you out mission after mission. He didn't notice the desperate pleads of those immature adults, the heartbreaking cries of those innocent children.

If it was for family, you'd do anything.

After doing all that – you give them a sickly sweet smile, as you pull them to hang out and play with you, no questions asked.

They never noticed.

And quite clear, you were a sadistic young teen. After being so pissed seeing those people getting close to them, it's like a breath of fresh air when you hear the bloodcurdling screams coming from their mouths.

TACHIHARA wasn't that observant, but he could tell that there was something not right about you at all. Yet, he himself was not free from the depths of your pure, honest love. He'll find himself spoiling you, loving you – like you're his very own sister.

He was going to fall into the trap whenever he likes it or not, because you love them way too much.

If someone else tries to destroy that happiness,

They'll just have to dissapear like the rest.

#port mafia x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #port mafia #chuuya nakahara #yandere #bsd yandere #mori ougai #ozaki kouyou #platonic bsd #teen reader #bsd akutagawa

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ivy-loves-chocolate · 4 months

Note

I saw you wanted some ideas for Leon so here’s mine: you’re hiding with him in the RPD from Mr.X in the stars office, and the more you talk the more you realize you’re into each other. A small make-out session turns into something more and Mr.X becomes your last worry.

Btw, I loved your recent Leon fic :3

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ N o t e ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ I found this in my drafts with a few paragraphs written and decided to finish it. I'll start the year with a smut, haha. Thank you, anon for the idea, and I'm sorry I made you wait 🙏❤️. I hope you like this 😊. I wanna write more about him, so keep the requests coming! Also, your feedback is appreciated ❤️.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ P a i r ��⋆ ˚｡⋆ Leon S. Kennedy x F!Reader

I take commissions so if you're interested check my Ko-Fi. ❤️

You were both panting as you barely escaped the monster that was chasing you relentlessly all night. He was tall and strong, and bullets didn't kill him. From the distance, it looked like a normal person given the simple outfit; he was wearing a hat and a trenchcoat, both black, but from up close, he was rather scary due to his grey skin and dead eyes. The height also added to the intimidating factor.

How did he end up dressed that way? You asked yourself as you saw him kneeling on the ground. Leon just emptied a clip by shooting his head. Apparently, bullets stop him for a bit, giving you a chance to run. Still, you couldn't help but be amused by his attire.

"Who the fuck gave this thing a fedora?" You asked quietly as you passed near him. "Like, it has to be custom made or something? Look at the size of its head…"

"Probably, but I think we have more important things to worry about right now."

You hurried outside the library and never stopped running. They just kept coming… from all directions. You tried blocking some windows, but it was useless.

All this time, you followed Leon's command, as he seemed more collected, even if he was just a rookie. You had a hunch that he was trying to impress you, and you had two reasons. One, you heard him curse like a sailor around the station before meeting him—something that didn't happen when he was with you—and two, you caught him staring at you a few times. He'd looked away every time you turned your attention to him, but he couldn't hide that smirk.

"This way," he whispered as he gently closed the door behind him.

"Where to-"

"Shh," he said, pointing to the ceiling. Your face turned pale at the sight of the horrendous creature that was crawling. Its sharp, long claws tapped on the surface as he walked on all fours; its brain was popping out, and he didn't appear to have any eyes. Terrified, you froze in place, but Leon grabbed your hand and guided you into the corridor.

"Just watch your steps, ok?" he whispered again in a soft voice, trying to soothen you. "Don't look at it; you'll be fine. Just stick with me."

With steady steps, you made your way to the STARS office and closed the door behind you. Leon pressed his ear on the door, and once he heard the licker crawling away, he told you that you were safe.

You let out a sigh of relief. You hadn't realised you were holding your breath until now.

"Good. Listen, do you mind if we rest a bit here? It's too much cardio for me," you joked.

"Sure, I could use some rest too."

The STARS office was clear, and you found supplies too. Some medicine, ammo, food, and water felt like a gift sent from God. There was also an armory, but it needed to be unlocked from the computer. A reminder that your work is far from done. Still, you tried to enjoy your small break. Leon was sitting at one desk from the edge, and you were sitting next to him. Behind you was a nice brown leather jacket, which you considered taking, but it was too big to fit you. The team's belongings were intact, making you wonder why they closed the unit so suddenly.

"Where do you think they are? Do you think they are safe?" you asked Leon, who was busy starring in the blank.

"They are probably doing better than we are. Those guys were elite."

"I think we're holding up pretty well, considering you're a rookie and I never touched a gun."

"Yeah…you almost blasted my brains back then," he chuckled.

"I'm sorry about that." You said it soflty and gently squeezed his forearm as a sign of comfort. "But you burst through that door, and I panicked."

"It's alright," he said, smiling. He smoothly slid his arm to the edge so he could grab your hand. Your fingers intertwined quickly.

"Thanks for the quick lesson, tho…it came in handy."

"No problem, you're a natural," he winked, which made you blush.

"Yeah, but I kinda had a great teacher."

"What can I say? I work best under stress."

You both chuckled. A short pause followed, in which both of you just stared at each other. Leon wanted to say so many things to you. He wanted to praise you for being so brave and for taking care of him; he wanted to tell you how lucky he feels to have found you in this mess, but he didn't know where to start.

"You ok?" you asked, seeing that he got lost in his thoughts again.

"Yeah, I'm fine… I was grateful for having you with me; that's all."

"Really? For a moment, I thought I slowed you down."

"Me slowing you down? You're faster than me. You actually left me behind a couple of times."

"Oh, that? I thought you did that on purpose...just trying to get rid of me."

He chuckled.

"Nah...I never wished to get rid of you. I really like having you around." He said.

"Me too..."

Neither of you let go of the other's hand.

You both stopped talking. Your smiles dropped and your eyes closed as you leaned forward towards each other. Soon, your lips touched over and over again, filling the room with faint sounds of kissing. You were both shy at first, but Leon got more courageous and came closer to you. His hands found your waist, and you cupped his face, prolonging the kiss. Soon, you felt Leon's tongue trying to find yours, and the kiss got a lot more intense.

Not carrying about Mr.X and other threats, you climbed onto Leon's lap and continued to kiss him with the same passion. Now you were closer to each other as you wrapped your arms around his neck, and he wrapped his big arms around your waist, hugging you and keeping you close.

It shows that Leon craved this kind of affection and intimacy from the sweet whimpers that came out occasionally.

"Wait…" he said as he broke the kiss. "I know a more comfortable chair…"

You didn't know what he meant until he suddenly stood up while managing to carry you and went to Wesker's office. He was a strong fella.

On his way, he never ceased to kiss you, becoming even more eager.

He sat on Wesker's chair, which was more comfortable and much bigger than the previous one. Since your legs had more room to rest, you had the strength to roll your hips over his crotch, letting out small, deep whimpers as you felt his bulge growing between your legs.

His hands squeezed your flesh as they ran along your waist. His muscles relaxed under your precise movements. His needy whines filled the room as you kept moving faster.

"Y/N…" He whispered shyly, breaking the kiss for a few seconds before coming to taste your lips again. He felt his cock throbbing in his pants. He wanted you; he craved you. It was unbearable.

You felt the same way, and your cunt was throbbing with excitement as you thought about him inside you…he felt…big…

With fast movements, you took your pants off, and then you proceeded to strip him off. His cock jumped in the air once his boxers slipped past those big thighs of his, and oh, what a sigh it was. He was long, thick, and leaked heavily in front of your eyes. You watched how a droplet of his precum glided along his length, making you drool. His tip glistered as it was basically drenched in his own juices.

You teasingly tapped his tip with one of your fingers, which made him whine loudly.

"Y/N…" he said, his attempt to maintain his composure being obvious.

"Shh. Just stick with me." You said this, looking at him with siren eyes.

You climbed back, one leg slidding next to him, and the other followed slowly. You raised a bit and aligned yourself above his tip. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you began to descend slowly and gasped when you felt his cock entering inside you. When he felt himself inside you, he pulled you again in a passionate, eager kiss.

Moans and whimpers filled Wesker's office quickly. You let out sharp, deep exhales as you took more and more of him. You struggled a bit at first, but both of you were so wet that after a few thrusts, you slid up and down with ease. Leon moved his hands to your ass, squeezing your cheeks hard with every throb of his cock. Not only did you feel him leak inside you, but you also felt how he rubbed that sweet spot inside you. It was pure bliss, which turned your mind foggy.

He also thrust his hips from beneath you, matching your own rhythm. You allowed yourselves to sink deeper into each other's touch without being bothered by what was happening out there. The kiss became messier, the touching more intense, and the thrusts more erratic as you chased your own release.

However, Leon felt that his time would come sooner, so he lifted you spontaneously and placed you on the desk, knocking down everything that would make you uncomfortable. Was that too loud? He didn't care.

"You are so strong, officer." You teased him and gave him the same dirty look, enjoying how that made him visibly weaker. He rolled his eyes and lowered his head a bit to the side, trying to hide his blushing cheeks.

His cock was halfway inside you now, and his arm rested near your head. With a deep breath, he began to thrust inside you, and he maintained eye contact this time. His face was still red, but not because of embarrassment, but because of how good your cunt made him feel. You wrapped your legs around his waist so you could feel him deeper.

His pace was slow at first, and he didn't go all in. It was pleasant, of course, but you wanted more, so you gently pulled him closer with your legs.

Understanding your intentions, he went all in, his balls constantly slapping your skin with each thrust. His breathing became faster, and your moans became louder as he finally hit that spot inside you again. When he picked up the pace, he placed his big thumb at your clit and stroked it fast. You felt a familiar pressure in your lower belly, and your throbbing cunt gave him a clue that you were about to cum.

"Leon…don't stop…" You said it between whimpers.

With his final strength, he went even faster with both his thrusts and strokes, and finally, he felt your wall clenching around his cock. With rolled eyes and curled toes, you grabbed his forearms as the orgasm hit you hard. A few seconds after your climax, you heard his moans getting louder. Then you felt hot spurts of his cum filling you up fast.

Both of you were trying to catch your breath now. Leon collapsed on top of you and allowed himself to indugle with your gentle touch for a few moments. Your arms were tightly wrapped around his tired body, with one hand playing with some strands of his blonde, smooth hair. The other caressed his back.

His nose was buried in your neck, enjoying the warmth and comfort that your body provided.

"I never thought I'd get laid on my first day as a police officer," he muffled, making you chuckle.

"Well, I bet you never expected a zombie apocalypse either."

"To be honest, if you would've asked me a few days ago which was more likely to happen, I'd go for the zombie apocalypse."

You chuckle again.

"You need to be more confident, Leon." Your fingers moved to his nape. "You're a great guy."

Once he felt your feather-like touch, he sighed with satisfaction.

"Oh yeah, just like that."

You began to massage gently. All this time, he remained inside you, and neither of you protested.

"You like that?"

He let out an affirmative hum.

"I'll tell you what," you began in a soft, calming voice. "When this is over, we keep in touch and go on a normal date. To get to know each other, you know?"

"Sounds good, but we need to get out of here in one piece…"

"Hmm…yeah…let's do that then."

He pulled out eventually and helped you get dressed.

You slowly made your way out of the STARS office, then made your way further into the station, looking for a way out. Now you look at the situation with a little more hope. Maybe it's because of the sex, or maybe you realised you have someone to count on. Who knows, but one thing is sure: you lived to go on your first date.

Tag-list: @lunarastrobabe @skylar-todd@rokurodokuro@brownsugarwrites (if you want to be added DM me 🤗)

#resident evil #resident evil leon #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x f!reader #leon kennedy x you #leon re2 #resident evil 2 remake

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hellcat8908 · 8 months

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can i request an azriel x reader with reader being rhysands sister and daemati and they’re very newly mated, they decide to go out and eat after the inner circle has begged them for almost 2 months. when they’re at ritas elain shamelessly hits on him, feyre is disappointed and tells her to stop and azriel declines bc he hates that elain is doing this. reader being very freshly mated still are in a frenzy and is very possessive and protective of azriel, without thinking she puts elain in her place and almost kills her bc of her powers, maybe almost scrambling her mind? azriel loves your protective side but you both calm down when rhysand cuts in and helps you calm down, he and feyre understands because they’re mated too🥺🙏

Loved this request, one of my favorites so far. Hope you enjoy!!

Get A Clue Azriel x Female Reader

You were still enjoying being newly mated to Azriel, even though it had been almost two months. You were still very protective of him and had declined many social events with the Inner Circle because of it. Most of them respected your boundaries partially out of respect for you and partially because you were Rhys's sister. You came home from shopping with Mor and Amren to find Azriel waiting for you. You greeted him with a kiss as you set the bags down by the stairs. "Don't be mad," he says as you sit in his lap, "but I told Rhys and Cassian we'd join the Inner Circle for dinner tonight." You drape your arms around his neck, "think it's a good idea?" You ask cautiously.

"We'll have to do it eventually, angel." He says as he brushes a stray strand behind your ear. "You're right, I just don't want there to be a scene, and you know that's a possibility." He sighs, "I know, but they're our friends, and I kinda miss going." He says, "Not that I don't love spending time with you, because you know I do." He tries to backtrack to avoid you being offended. You laugh as he gets flustered and reassure him, you know what he is trying to say. "Well, I guess I have a reason to wear the new outfit I bought today." He smiles as you excuse yourself to change into new leggings and a blue and silver embroidered top. "You look stunning." Azriel tells you from the doorway as you finish putting in your earrings. "Thank you, babe." You say as you leave for Rita's.

You quickly find the others as you walk into Rita's. You take an empty seat next to Rhys as Azriel sits beside you. "It's so good to finally have you two back!" Mor says. "It's been so long, I've really missed this." You reply as you notice Elain staring at Azriel from across the table. He seems oblivious as he is wrapped up in conversation with Cassian. Once your food is ordered you carry on various conversations with Mor, Feyre and Nesta about different things from books to clothing and of course being mated to Azriel. You notice Elain roll her eyes as you talk about Az as she desperately keeps trying to get his attention. Food soon arrives and is delicious. You savor the food as conversations carry on around you. Everyone is enjoying themselves, well almost everyone.

Mor drags you to the dance floor as Az gives you a reassuring nod. You start dancing with Mor and before long Nesta and Cassian join in. You notice Feyre pull Elain aside and start scolding her. You strain to hear what's being said, but you know Feyre is telling Elain she's embarrassing herself. You can see Elain snap at her before making her way back to the table, joined by Feyre a few moments later. Mor draws your attention back to dancing and you start enjoying yourself again. Suddenly a wave of discomfort washes down the bond and you turn to see Azriel trying hard to refuse Elains advances as politely as he can. She has her hand on his chest and leans in close as she flirts with him.

You see red and before you can think you're storming over to her. Before she can raise any sort of mental shield, you're in her mind. Your sharp mental talons clawing along the edges as she visibly shudders. "Just because you are unhppy with you're own mate does not mean you can try to take mine!" You say angrily, your voice laced with venom. "He has asked you time and time again to leave him alone and respect his boundaries, but you refuse to do so." Her eyes widen in fear as you grip her mind. "From now on you don't look at him, you don't talk to him, and you don't speak to him. He is off limits to you, and I mean that." You say aggressively. Azriel looks at you with a feral grin on his face. You know you staking your claim turns him on to no end.

You hold her fragile mind in your grip, thinking how easy it would be to end this obsession she has with your mate right now. Her eyes search yours for any small amount of mercy you might show her. "Please, don't." She whispers barely audible for you to hear. Suddenly you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn expecting to find Azriel but instead it's Rhys. You see the look of concern in his eyes, knowing it's for you not for Elain. "This isn't who you are." He says softly, "you're better than this." He reminds you. Suddenly everything around you snaps into focus. The visible fear of Elain. The concerned looks of everyone around you. The pleading look on Rhys's face. You release your mental hold on Elain before she runs out of Rita's.

Suddenly the room is too small and too loud. You quickly excuse yourself as you hurry outside and empty your stomach in the alley. Gentle hands hold your hair back and rub soothing circles. You struggle to breathe as panic takes hold of you. Azriel pulls you close to him, "breathe, angel. Inhale......exhale......inhale......exhale." After a few more minutes the panic final subsides. You hear them approach as your face is burried in Azriel's shirt, you can't face them. "Y/n, don't feel bad about Elain. Everyone told her to stop and she refused to listen." Feyre tells you. "None of us are mad about what just happened, not even Nesta." She reassures you. "I'm a monster." You say, "I was ready to break her mind without a second thought." You admit.

"But you didn't," Rhys says. "You controlled yourself. You'll never be a monster." He says gently. "I didn't because you stopped me. What if you hadn't, Rhys? What if I hadn't been able to stop myself if you hadn't stepped in?" He gives you a soft smile, "you would've been able to control yourself because you have a good heart and nothing can change that. You just got caught up in protecting your mate, which is understandable. Beside she has been warned several times to stop and maybe this is what she needed to get the message." He says, comforting you. "Your brother is right." Feyre says, "I was getting ready to take more drastic measures if you hadn't done it tonight." You turn and look at her confused, "but I could've hurt your sister." You say. "But you didn't, you put fear into her and she needed to learn she can't keep doing this." Feyre says as she gives you a warm smile, "besides I remember how Rhys and I were when we were mated." She says with a laugh. "We all do." Azriel says with a teasing smirk.

"I guess we should go check on Elain." Feyre says, almost sounding annoyed. "Or we could let her be for tonight and see if she learned anything tomorrow?" Rhys says. "Maybe she does need to realize we aren't going to tolerate her disrespect." Feyre says. "I don't want to create any unnecessary issues between you." You say. "Trust me, y/n, she'll get over and move on, no harm done." Feyre reassures you. "Well, I think we should call it a night." Azriel says while holding you close to him. You say your good-byes and ask them to tell the rest of the Inner Circle you're sorry for your behavior. "They understand." Rhys says with a smirk. Azriel winnows you home and runs a hot bath for you to relax. He takes extra care in lighting candles, filling the room with the fragrance of vanilla and honey. As you soak in the hot water, your worries wash away.

#batboys #acotar #sarah j maas #acotar fanfic #azriel #azriel x reader #acotar fic

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 5 months

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How would the main 10 skelebros react/comfort y/n from crying?

(undertale)

Undertale Sans - He sits next to you and waits. He doesn't want to force you to talk or hug him, he's just there if you feel like it. He's patient, and lets you calm down taking the time you need. He just wants to be there for you if you feel like talking about what's wrong.

Undertale Papyrus - You're making him anxious. That's five times he's checking on you now. He puts a plaid on you, and serves you tea, and gives you a teddy bear, and food, and chocolate... PLEASE JUST TELL HIM WHAT'S WRONG HE'S PANICKING. He wants to help desperately but he doesn't know why ;w; He doesn't want to pressure you but he's too anxious to not pressure you. He has no idea how to help, he's quite distressed right now.

Underswap Sans - He gives you some space. He's unsure what to do to help and he's not really good with this to begin with. He's just half-hiding behind the couch, glaring at you, uncertain, waiting for you to ask him to come or something lol. Help.

Underswap Papyrus - He comes to the rescue and crushes you into a hug. He gives the best hugs. He waits patiently for you to calm down then starts to make small talk to either get you to talk or divert your attention from what made you cry. If you want to stay like this for the rest of the day, it's fine! He has nothing better to do anyway.

Underfell Sans - He awkwardly comes to pat your back, keeping a safe distance in case you get mad at him so he can retreat fast lol. Man, he has no idea what the hell he's supposed to do. He's not used to people crying in front of him, usually, monsters go to hide when they need to. He's so confused about what he's supposed to do.

Underfell Papyrus - He gives you Doomfanger, who is not too happy about that. He taped "how to uncry a person who's crying" on Google and apparently hugging pets works, so here you go. Doomfanger claws your face because she's mad you're holding her. Now it's worse. Edge is distressed about what to do now that his genius plan didn't work. He's just.... standing there.

Horrortale Sans - He kidnaps you in his hoodie and holds you close, purring lightly to soothe you. He doesn't talk or try to make you talk, he just hugs you close and nuzzles your neck until you have enough. That's ok if enough is in five hours, he's happy when you're happy.

Horrortale Papyrus - He's crying by empathy without any idea why he's crying lol. He's just like that. He's also a nervous wreck and will try a lot of things to make you feel better, but he's hyperventilating and crying doing so, so chances are after a moment you're the one that will need to comfort him lol.

Swapfell Sans - He gives you a paper. Give him name, address, reason why you're crying and he'll take care of it. He is distressed seeing you like this and he's unsure what to do, that's the best he can do to make you feel better lol. You're not sure killing whoever hurts you is going to solve the problem, but you thank him for the initiative.

Swapfell Papyrus - He's clowning around to make you laugh, making a fool of himself and pranking Nox in the house to have a reaction from you. He won't stop before you smile, then he will sit next to you and ask what's wrong.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He's in protective mode, growling at everything or everyone trying to get close to you in your moment of weakness. You're stressing him out, can you hurry and stop being sad already? He doesn't like seeing you like this, he's scared someone will take the opportunity of it and he won't allow it.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He hugs you close and brings you into his safety closet so you can both hide from the world and cuddle him until you feel better. He doesn't like seeing you like this, it's stressing him out.

#undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #swapfell #fellswap gold #sans #papyrus #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

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kafkacrisis · 1 year

Text

Anything for you

characters: kafka.

warning(s): N.SFW, minors DNI, AFAB fem!reader, dom/sub dynamics (sub!reader & dom!kafka), sadom.asochism, crotch stepping & bootlicking, humiliation k¡nk, unhealthy devotion.

summary: punishments for insubordination are a necessary evil kafka particularly enjoys.

You can't imagine how you must look right now, wearing your dirtied uniform and leaned down on your knees in some dingy hotel room. Your legs ache from the pressure of them against the hard wood floors, specks of dust falling from the opened window onto your skin. Anyone could peer in and see you like this—completely at the mercy of your superior.

Kafka is above you, sat on the edge of the hotel bed, her arms and legs crossed. Her elegance looks out of place in the little run down room you're both camping out in for this mission. Her face trained into perfect boredom, and if you didn't know better, you truly would believe she was trying not to fall asleep.

"I really do not understand how you think sometimes," she finally speaks, the harsh sound of her voice almost making you wince.

You look up at her, eyes probably shining in anticipation. You see her jaw clench harder.

"You risked the entire mission, and for what? Are you just that—" her voice lowers as she stands to her full height, grabbing your face with a painful intensity, "—damn stupid?"

It's rare for Kafka to show any real emotion at all, much less the bone chilling rage she's trying and failing to contain now. In some sick, twisted way, you feel proud of yourself for getting her to react like this.

You open your mouth to speak, but you're cut off with a harsh slap against your cheek, the force of it knocking your head to the side. You let out a small gasp of surprise, mouth hanging open stupidly. She grabs your face again by the chin, pulling it up and to the side so you could lock eyes. Her expression is positively dangerous.

"I should know better than to count on your help," she rasps. "After all, you're just a useless moron who would do anything to get my attention—even if will get you killed."

Her foot raises, the heel of her boot pressing into your clothed thigh. You bite your lip, trying not to let out a cry of pain. She only continues, never releasing her harsh grip on your chin. Your lips wobble with the desire to babble obscenities, to tell her Yes, Kafka, I'd do anything for this, Kafka, please—

"I have to punish you for that stunt you pulled, you know that," Kafka mumbles, her fingers briefly relaxing, running along the curve of your jaw. "I can't do with everyone disobeying me. If you want me to do this, sit you down and hit you until you're coming untouched..."

She pauses, reaching to hold your face delicately with both of her gloved hands. Her thumb wipes away an errant tear from your eye, gentle in a way that almost makes you forget about her heel digging into your leg.

"Then just ask me, instead of doing those pitiful things to make me hurt you. I will welcome you into my arms every time, my sweet girl. You don't even need to ask."

You're crying now, for reasons you can't even begin to name. You've wanted your superior for so long, throwing yourself into danger to protect her, all so you could hear her scold you afterwards for being so reckless.

Kafka is everything to you. She has to know that.

"I will be yours for as long as you want me." Your words come out watery and choked up, remnants of your tears falling into your opened mouth. "Kafka, I—"

"Shh, shh, I know. It's alright," she leans down, her lips just barely brushing against your own, the kiss as chaste as could be. Her eyes are close to yours, the color so deep you could get lost in them forever. "Let me take care of you now, I promise I'll show you how much I desire you, too."

The toe of her boot pries open your legs, pushing against the seam of your pants, and you let out a scream. Kafka looks pleased with herself, her painted lips turning upwards into a familiar wry smile.

Your squeals eventually break off into broken pants, your breath escaping you in short bursts. The pressure feels so good, it feels even better knowing its Kafka doing this to you—but the pain of her boot against your clit is making your vision blacken at the edges.

"You're shaking like a leaf, but isn't this what you wanted?" Her mocking tone lights your blood on fire, and you cry out in disappointment when her boot leaves you. She leans back, her ankles crossed as she once again sits down on the edge of the bed. She leaves you there, choking and wheezing on the floor, painfully wet in the confines of your pants and underwear.

You look up at her, an attempt at pleading that Kafka only laughs at. She's enjoying every second of this, watching her beloved devotee squirm at every denial of pleasure.

She snaps her fingers and directs you forward, as if you were a dog meant to follow her every command. You're flushed down to your chest, with watery eyes and bruises on your arms from a previous battle—but Kafka doesn't seem to care if you're hurting or not. It feels so good to be treated this way, and you wonder (not for the first time), what wires got crossed in your brain to make you feel like this.

"My precious girl," she smiles, pushing your head down to the floor so you're eye level with her shoes. "Won't you clean my boots for me? I can't go out knowing they were up against you like that—isn't it much too vulgar?"

Your throat bobs as you swallow. She is having too much fun with this. You wish you wanted to say no, that the idea of being at Kafka's mercy and being a disgusting bootlicker upset you.

But it doesn't. And so you lower yourself down, and listen to Kafka's voice as you run your tongue along the top of her boot. The taste is inconsequential, it means nothing compared to the sound of Kafka breathing in sharply above you.

"You really would do anything if I asked you to, huh?" Kafka says, almost in disbelief herself. You can feel your heart aching, your eyes shut tightly as you think of how embarrassing this is. Its so fucking embarrassing to be doing this, you can't even think straight. You feel your clit throbbing against your tight pants, your hand itching to reach down and absolve yourself of the pressure.

She suddenly pulls her foot away, and in your embarrassment you can't even find it in yourself to look up and meet her eyes. You really just did that. She probably thinks you're gross. This could be it now—she's going to tell you to get up and leave.

"Get up here, now," she calls, holding her hand out for you to grab. With hesitancy, you reach to take her hand—your breath hitching when she yanks you up on top of the bed. She pushes you down with an urgency you just don't get, scrambling to unbutton your pants as you writhe and cry for it above her.

"Kafka, Kafka, please," you pant, chanting her name without pause. It hurts. You're so desperate for her, and it hurts more than any pain or humiliation she's subjected you to in the past hour.

"You're too good. Too willing to do anything for me," Kafka whispers into your neck as she rubs fingers against your now exposed cunt, rough and fast in their movements. Her gloves hurt, but the sensation of them is also so unbearably good it makes you want to screech. "I will keep you here, fuck you all the time til I'm the only person you care to remember. I promise."

You come after that, loud and messy—your face flushing once you realize how it had gotten everywhere. Kafka doesn't seem to mind though, watching the way you start to drift off into a deep sleep as she licks the remnants from her gloved fingers.

this was so nasty i'm sorry everyone. the demons took over and they wouldn't leave me be.

#kafka x reader #kafka x you #kafka x reader smut #kafka smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #hsr kafka #honkai star rail #!~lie is writing

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