#I tried to look up exactly the time period the clothing reference was from

[teddy-bear-d]

Some more of New Life Martyn living his best life in the snow! Vaguely based off hanfu as I really enjoyed the last time I studied the fashion.

[uglypastels]

hi hi! obsessed with your Sanji fic! i was wondering if you could do a sanji x f!reader where he takes good care of the reader during their time of the month? Like he made all the foods that are good for her and a treat to enjoy, while also giving massages and just whatever the reader needs? Thank you!

thank you so much for the request!! I tried not to refer to any period symptoms so technically this is more of a "gender neutral reader feeling sick" and can be read as any scenario. hope that's ok

no real warnings. i guess? just short fluff. not really proofread

If you didn't know better, you would think Sanji kept track of you, the way he knew exactly when to do and say what he needed to. You wouldn't even realise your own state yourself, only coming to terms with how badly you felt when he would be bringing you a hot cup of tea or cocoa or a large portion of the most comforting egg-fried rice. All without asking.

The truth was, he picked up on things. The smallest of details. The way your mood would change some days, or you would feel tired or sick. Maybe even without realising what the cause of it is at first. He just knew you didn't feel well and that he could be the one to help.

On days when you were particularly under the weather, and your legs wouldn't seem to work, he'd bring you your food to bed; all prepared on a little tray with a flower and all.

'Here you go,' he said, placing it over your lap with a proud smile.

'You really didn't need to do all this,' you sighed, looking at the feast he prepared, even though you only asked for a small snack.

'I know,' Sanji laughed, 'but I figured it wouldn't hurt to spoil you a little bit.' He put his hands in his pockets as you grabbed a fork to take your first bite, staying just long enough to see your reaction to the food to be able to leave, satisfied.

'Wait,' you stopped him, however. 'Could you stay maybe?' After feeling like shit the entire day, alone in your room, some company was well due.

'Uh, yeah, sure,' he hesitated before stepping closer to your bed. Rolling your eyes, you moved over in your bed, knowing that otherwise he would just act the gentleman and linger next to it.

But once in bed with you, he saw it as a free-for-all and immediately scooped you into his arms. His body wrapped itself around you, and instantly, you were comforted by the feeling of his touch, the warmth of his body, and the smell that caught onto his clothes from the kitchen.

'Were you baking something?' you asked.

'Maybe,' he'd grin, already knowing you were aware of exactly what he had been up to.

But sometimes, food just wasn't the answer to all of life's problems. Sometimes, you felt so bad that even the thought of eating something made you sick, and that definitely pulled Sanji out of his element. After all, he's the cook.

It won't mean he wouldn't try to make you feel as good as possible again. Perhaps by preparing a hot water bottle or reminding you to drink water and take some painkillers or any other medicine you'd need. He would distract the rest of the crew, who were oblivious to your current state, and give you a bit of breathing space if you felt overwhelmed by the chaos that was life on board the ship. He'd help you with your tasks on board and take the workload off your shoulders if you felt weak.

Then, in the evening, he'd sneak into your cabin just to check up on you, make sure you're comfortable, and ignore all your protests to fluff your pillows.

'C'mon, Sanj, you really don't need to do that,' you'd laugh.

'I know.' That's what he always said. Because he didn't care about what he should or shouldn't be doing.

All that mattered to him was you, and for you, he would do anything.

the end

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[narcissistshandler]

can I request a yandere younger brother Hajun x big brother male reader? Like the reader is about to go to college but Hajun doesn't want that, afraid his brother will find a girlfriend but the reader reassures him that he won't and he does it while fucking him in front of a mirror, just basically whispering reassuring words to him.

⠀⠀♰⠀⠀𝗦𝗛𝗘

𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 ko hajun/goo hajoon x m!reader

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 male reader, top! reader, bottom! hajun, yandere! hajun (more implied than intended), incest, reader referred as "hyung". minors dni

𝗔/𝗡 smut ended up in the background, sorry 'bout that

"Hajun, have you seen my suitcase?"

Silence ensued, you waited standing in the middle of the room, hands on hips. The door opposite opened, so your younger brother walked out, entering your room.

"Hajun?" you pressed, turning to face him. A cold expression stared back at you, a concrete wall trying to keep you out.

Your brother had always been like this, hard to get close to or understand, but not for you, never for you. To you, he was an open book, shouting words even when he showed minimal expression or preferred a cold stare over words. And that's how you knew, before he even understood what was going on, that Hajun's feelings for you weren't platonic, nothing like brothers normally felt for each other. He panicked when confronted, that unsual anxiety taking over his body, hands shaking, muttering apologies mixed with "I love you" and "please don't leave me" and when you pulled him to you and kissed him, Hajun ── the guy so feared that made people pee just by looking at him ── passed out. When he woke up, minutes later, he first ignored you, deaf to your words, then he assumed a guilt that didn't exist and with his hands clutching your clothes he begged you not to leave him; you could hate him, he was nothing, he didn't deserve you, but please don't go.

Sometimes, it was still difficult to relate the anxious and desperate boy with the aloof and confident one. The boy your best friend insisted that hit him for a joke about marrying you and the boy who stole your underpants thinking you didn't know.

"I didn't see," he said at last, sitting down on the bed among the mess of clothes and objects.

"I need to find it, my flight is in two days."

He shrugged, oblivious to your stress, and pulled one of the neatly folded t-shirts from the pile, then another and another, until they were all crumpled and thrown in random corners of the bed. You watched him in astonishment, taking a deep breath so you wouldn't just yell at him.

Hajun wasn't exactly hiding his displeasure at your departure. You were going to college in another city and being separated from you even for short periods during childhood had always made him anxious and irritable. It was hard to imagine what the thought of spending years away from you was doing to his mind. Yes, you would come visit him every weekend and call and text every day, but the argument seemed to go right by him.

This week alone, he's already stolen your tickets twice, tried to poison you with foods you're allergic to in an attempt to make you miss your flight once, messed up your clothes five times, and begged you to stay... well, every day. In some dark way, you knew he was constantly considering chaining you to the foot of the bed, but you tried to convince yourself that it was stress making you imagine things. And yesterday, he had tried to impersonate you and cancel your college application. Since then you had ignored him, unable to look at his indifferent face without wanting to slap him.

Of course, you had no way of knowing what that, along with your inevitable departure, was doing to his head.

"You know I hate it when you lie to me," you confronted, feeling your blood heat up. "Where's my suitcase? And stop messing with my stuff! I'm tired of your childish behavior!"

His lips trembled, looking like he might cry at any moment, but instead his expression hardened, eyes flashing furiously in your direction.

"Am I being childish? You're the one leaving, leaving me. Am I not enough for you, hyung? Do you hate me? Is that why you're leaving? Are you disgusted with me? Because I like you? You're going to stay away from me aren't you? To find a girlfriend, some bitch with whom you will marry and have children. I will kill her I swear I will," he snapped, for the first time in years yelling at you. Your eyes widened, caught off guard by the explosion. Hajun blinked, confronted by your expression and in moments the anger was replaced by something else and he lowered his gaze, whispering softly, the first tears falling: "Please do not leave me."

You took a deep breath, confused, surprised, feeling so many things at the same time that you couldn't even identify, but most important of all, the feeling of having failed as a brother and a lover.

The bed sagged under your weight, a sob breaking in the air as you pulled Hajun to you, trying to fit him into your lap. He wasn't small anymore, he was heavy and had a well-built body, his thighs thick over hers, his weight pressing you into the mattress. He wasn't a kid anymore, but then why did he still act the same as when he was?

You chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to his temple as you tried to wipe the tears falling down his face. He offered you a sullen snarl in response.

"Listen to me, Hajun," you asked. "I love you." That got his attention, wet eyes lifting to stare at you. "You are the most precious thing to me, nothing could ever replace you, nothing ever will, and no one."

"Then don't go," he pleaded uncertainly. You tightened your arms around him tighter.

"I have to go, love. That doesn't mean I won't come back or forget about you or look for someone else. You're the only person I want."

"What about she?"

"There is no 'she', Hajun."

He didn't answer, and you knew he still had doubts, that fear wouldn't dissipate so easily.

You cupped his damp cheek and leaned forward, kissing him. Lips touching as lightly as a feather. Sweetly and slowly you guided him, trying to convey all your love through the act. Hajun melted against you, salty tears falling back down as you pulled back, smiling at him and somehow, you knew he was thinking about you smiling that way at someone else, kissing someone else that way, holding they in your arms and tell that you loved they... You went back to kissing him, trying to make his attention stay in the here and now, in you.

You took off his shirt and struggled to get his pants and underwear off without him having to leave your lap. Hajun moaned softly as the kisses on his neck and shoulders strayed lower and one of his nipples was caught between your teeth. He rocked his hips in search of friction, a wet mark being left behind as the head leaking from his cock found your stomach. You allowed, of course you did, you could never deny your little brother anything. If he only understood the size of your love...

It was hard to get Hajun off of you so you could get the lube, abandoning the condom in the drawer at his request. He wanted to have you, completely. He crawled back to you eagerly, blushing in the prettiest way as you sat him down with his back to you, back against your chest, your cock hard against his ass and eyes meeting the reflection in the mirror at the front of the bed. No need to ask him to keep his eyes on the mirror, Hajun drank the reflected actions like water, groaning loudly as one of your lubricated fingers slipped inside his red hole and your lips kissed the back of his neck. Beautiful, you whispered, finger slowly in and out of him, crawling against the sensitive walls. My one and only love, the other hand busy pinching his pretty nipples begging for attention. I don't need anyone else but you, when one finger turned into two and he trembled around the stretch, sweat running down the neck. I will always come back to you, when you finally slid inside him, holding his legs so you two could watch in the mirror his hole opening up for you, his dick, red and leaking. He broke eye contact, head falling back on your shoulder, hole squeezing around your cock. But it was the I love you so much that made him cry even harder, sobbing, nails digging into your arms, coming a second time for you even when his cock was unable to shed anything, twitching pathetically.

At the end of the night he passed out, exhausted after beg with a hoarse throat to you keep him full, refusing to let you clean him, open and swollen hole contracting in the attempt to keep all your cum inside. He was sweaty, semen smeared on his belly and tears dried on his face, finally able to sleep peacefully.

Two days later you left, tickets in hand, a new city waiting for you and a gps and messaging spy app that your brother had downloaded while you were sleeping working to make sure you didn't lie and that he really didn't have to get one-way ticket to scare away whatever bitch you tried to replace him with.

[unbizzarre]

BARRAYARAN COSTUME DESIGN

The process for costume design:

Had fun looking through a whole bunch of reference images to try to create a costume set that reflected the strong sense of tradition with midieval-esque holdovers from hand textiles that would have had to be the norm during barreyars period of isolation, while also accounting for the wealth of the current barreyaran aristocracy and their access to modern galactic trends and clothing. I also didn’t want the midieval influences to be generic-fantasy-vaguely-european-bulshit, so I also tried to find reference images with styles, patterns, and silhouettes that where somewhat reminiscent of the French, Russian, and Greek cultural heritage barnyard first settlers may have brought with them. That being said, it wouldn’t make sense for any of these traditional garments to have been preserved with 1-for-1 accuracy from there earth origins over the many centuries (cuz like, irl traditional dress in these countries is less and less common) so I didnt want to just copy exactly historical garments.

OH! And then I also had to make sure the men’s clothing also reflected the pseudo-military affectations which Bujold has mentioned in multiple books as being popular in menswear amongst the vor cast. (Ex: the formal riding boots, and the two swords carried at formal events, or less formally vor “town clowns” also wearing casual clothing reminiscent of a military cut.) but! In order to do this, I had to think of both what would have been military uniforms both in isolation-barrayar and modern barrayar, and which aspects of each set of military uniforms would be incorporated into modern men’s fashion. Would any women’s clothing also reflect this warrior trend?

Finally, since all of this costume design was brainstorming for the dinner party scene, I wanted to make sure that the clothes matched the personalities of the people wearing them. Like aunt Alice and Professors Vorthis are both middle aged Vor-caste women, but will have vastly contrasting style. Alice being alice, her clothing will likely be both perfect for the occasion while also a sleek and elegant combination of the leading barreyaran fashions, while also giving a nod to traditional barreyaran costume at times as she is a representative of both the state and her old-vor house. The professora on the other hand, will probably opt for something comfortable and cozy, while not especially showy, as she is more concerned with her studies and gardens and is not super involved in the Vorbarra-sultana social scene.

Some of the reference images I used:

And many many sooooo many more. So much borrowed creativity from all over the internet I feel bad I can’t more accurately site all my sources 😞

Also some random cool aesthetic modern shit that I thought had fun sci fi vibes as well as some *sigh* generic-euro fantasy clothing cuz sometimes you need to be a little basic.

Also a lot of cool art by artists I love that is just dope costume design and totally all their work. Idk the names of a lot of them cuz I’m not really active on social media and only really see the images amidst thousands of others in my Pinterest hoard but I always recognize the artsyles and creativity and wind up saving them to reference art boards 🙈

Some that I do remember and love a lot are cy-lindric, Juliette, and Celia Lowenthall

[cattocavo]

Six sketch sunday

Thanks so much for tagging me @thewholelemon

I actually have something pretty exciting to share if i do say so myself!

In november 2022 i did a master study of romeo and juliet by frank bernard dicksee. I was very happy with it. But over time I’ve become less and less happy with it, specifically how baz looks :((

This is due to the fact that i traced A LOT in late 2022 (I was 15 ok, I’m sure we’ve all had one of those phases😭) I traced the whole painting, but baz was hard bc the original painting featured a woman, and her whole figure was covered by a white loose dress. 2022 me did their best interpreting the shapes and forming a new body for baz, but honestly they didn’t do it very well. Ive hated Baz’s face and body for a while now, but still loved simon and the painting in general. Which is why I came to the conclusion that for me to be at peace and happy with it again, I have to remaster it!

And again I’ve had this on my mind for a while now, mulling it over, because it’s quite a big project. But 7 days ago i finalized my decision and started looking at references and whatnot. It took me so long to find references bc I was confused of the angle of Juliet’s head in the original painting (so I’ve changed the angle whoops) and i needed to make sense of it all. Before i knew it i had spent 5 hours (according to procreates tracker) drawing, and literally nothing had changed.. but then i spent like 2 hours more and THAT did it. It was like digging a whole in the ground searching for water. You dig a little and nothing happens, and when you finally dig deep enough the water reveals itself like a goldmine.

Anyways, i haven’t gotten around to do any recoloring yet, so ill show you the sketch (ahem, traced) of my 2022 version versus what I have now

The one on the left is the 2022 version. The one on the right is the current sketch.

I’m trying to incorporate a lot more body language from baz this time around. I think the old sketch of baz was very rigid. His torso is very short 💀 my biggest issue was his face though. It was far too feminine. The bone structure wasn’t exactly giving baz, in fact the whole face didn’t look like baz to me. The expression also bothered me, it was too superficial. Like it’s exactly the predictable expression you expect him to have. I tried to spice it up in the new version by making him appear a bit more anguished. It’s romeo and juliet after all.

Im currently looking at references to what clothes he should be wearing (don’t worry, i wont cover up his sleeves. Even if it’s more time period accurate) so if y’all have any inspo or suggestions, feel free to share them with me!

While baz is the inly thing getting completely redone, I’m also touching up some other thins. Just giving it a more refined, finished look overall. The plants in the original were really messily done, so i’m gonna work a lot on those. 2022 me also slacked on the curtains, so I’m repainting those to match the original frank bernard painting.

Once I’m done with it all i think i might sell some prints. Ive gotten requests to sell prints of this one before, but never really got around to do more than research. If i do make prints, I’m a bit worried they’ll all go to waste bc they’ll have to be shipped from denmark, and shipping in expensive :(( (I’ve tried to set up middlemen and it didn’t work for me. Red bubble wont even allow me to add a credit card😬) but if y’all are still interested in prints, do let me know! Ill definitely put in more of an effort to make it happen if i know it wont be in vain :))

Thats all from me for today :3 see ya next time

(Also check out what my COBB partner @thewholelemon is doing! It’s gonna be so good!)

Tags! @monbons @raenestee @j-nipper-95 @orange-peony

Id love to see what y’all are doing!

[tinyangryflower]

Thank you for correcting me! I must need to do more research. I have been doing research on her, but I've misinterpreted the information, I guess. A lot of people referred to her as a she and have said she was a trans woman a lot of the time, so I misinterpreted it.

I shouldn't have brought someone I still need to do more research on into the conversation. I'm really sorry for that!

Instead of citing Marsha, I will cite myself. I am a trans male, so while I cannot speak for trans women, I can speak for the trans cause.

My argument with you & people with your stance is that you seem to try to assert some expertise over people with our lives, and it's. . . well, really rather arrogant. You can list everything you've got to back your opinions up but it won't change the fact that it's an opinion.

The facts you get are from people who know just as much about us as you do and people who do not make up the whole of us. An experience, however different it may be from mine, is still valid and the person with it is allowed to open up about it. It's beyond horrible that some of the trans community demonstrates the same prejudice that they claim to hate.

But again, they do not describe all of us.

There are those of us who don't advocate for hate or disgusting behavior. Many, actually. There are also those of us who are the way we are for a reason.

Whatever it is in your mind does not matter because you are not trans—even if you supported the trans community, you would not fully understand it.

Is that an excuse for people to say whatever nonsense they feel like?

No; but you can become blinded to any positivity we promote if you become accustomed to seeking the negativity. You don't just call out negativity in the trans community. You only call out the negativity and make negative judgements based off of your negative opinions. Based off of what you believe, what you have seen.

I was dumb to argue when I mentioned Marsha P. Johnson. I need to do more research next time I cite someone, even if I think I know what I'm talking about. Mind you, I'm sure, to you, it must sound completely ironic.

But my stance is—stop acting like you understand exactly what is going on in our minds, nor anything of what we may think because you have no firsthand experience to talk about who we are nor the open–mindedness to talk of us impartially.

You can make a list of the bad trans people, but there will always be good trans people, there will always be more to our community than you would be willing to see.

Now, I'm not acting as though I'm keeping some sort of secret from you because I don't have anything to back it up. I can speak, as a good ( I do try my best to be good to people, I'm sorry I was so rude to you to begin with ), decently–knowledgeable trans person, who knows good, knowledgeable trans people.

You are judging lives you would not understand enough to arrive at enough logic to label, debunk, or explain them.

You're talking about an experience I could never understand, but for years I've identified myself as trans (or at least gender fluid), when I was 14/16, and used he/him pronouns. I wanted to be a man, I covered my breasted and wore masculine clothes. I tried even to walk like a man. It felt right to me to use different pronouns but then I changed, because that's what happens during adolescence. If you look up (I studied psychology and pedagogy at school) adolescence is a period of changes, and a 17 years old teenager is different than his/her 16 years old self. Just by one year everything changes. And that's what happened to me, I grew up and I changed.

I know a lot of trans people, one is even a close friend of mine, and in my city there was a big friends group with all trans people. After a year or two (they were like 13-16 years old) a few of them call themselves "trans".

And I want to be clear, I respect people because it's not in my character to hate, but when I say "a trans woman is not a woman" and other people say "no, it's a real woman", it makes me angry. Because we're talking of common biology that is taught in schools.

For example: Blair White is a person I respect. She (wow I'm respecting her pronouns) is a transwoman and knows she will never be a real woman, just because of biology. In fact, Blair stated that doesn't want any bottom surgery because it has many risks. And from what I've learned, that's true. But I respect Blair, a transwoman, that says what is true. Because not a lot of people (like politicians) have the guts to say that a transwoman is just a man. And I know not all trans people are bad people, but why the majority of them hate detransitioners? Why the majority of them doesn't care about women voices, about women being not comfortable sharing a locker room or a bathroom with a biological male?

So, why transwomen talk about being women even if they're men?? They shouldn't talk about it, even calling themselves woman, because they don't know what it's like to be a woman. They never grew up being one.

Us radfems rely a lot on biology when we talk about transpeople, because we can't ignore it, especially when men play sports against women and they win, or when men are being put in prisons with woman and rape them, or when in other occasions society tries to be inclusive and put men in women category and gives all the recognition to men. But that doesn't happen with men, because I never saw a transman win against a biological man in a race or in a box fight. Transpeople should have, at this point, their own categories because it's unfair for woman to compete against man that are biologically stronger than us.

(It's good to have those interactions, sorry for eventual mistakes but English is my second language and sometimes I might sound angry but that's how I normally talk)

[p-antomime]

just so fine.

— minors don’t interact

— wc: 4,7K

content + warnings: 18+, including: dilf!toji, manhandle, spitting, daddy kink, choking, unprotected sex, creampie, a bit of school girl!reader maybe, breeding kink, overstimulation, squirting, degradation, age gap, a bit of size kink, thigh riding

pairings: toji fushiguro x fem!reader

— note: this is a bit inspired by: Love Without Tragedy by Rihanna. — jjk masterlist.

Red lipstick and a broken heart trying to be concerted by the petals of your conscience and your friends who said that "he didn't deserve you anyway". And honestly, you didn't know where exactly you were getting the strength from to get out of bed that Monday and go take a shower before heading painfully to your first class in the morning.

He used to be the boy you loved with every cell of your body and soul, he stole the best years of your freshman life at the university, and now you were a senior who had neither the animation nor the patience to welcome the incoming freshmen that year. Despite having Kugisaki and Megumi fervently cheering you on while Itadori was too busy still dealing with the problem of sending documents to the college, your heart was still fatally wounded and your dignity no longer existed as your tears had wiped it off the face of the earth during that morning shower and you couldn't help but be tempted to put on makeup good enough to mask your dark circles under your eyes and downcast face.

"Are you coming today?", Nobara asked excitedly on the other end of the line as you were already leaving the house and taking the long way to college.

— Do I have the option of not going?

"No, of course not.", Nobara replied with a slight laugh that was well intended to cheer you up a bit, "We can have a movie night tonight, to cheer you up."

— At whose house? At mine that won't be, it's a mess. — You grumbled.

"At Megumi's or Itadori's, of course. During lunch I'll buy soda and food with Yuuji and you convince Megumi to let us break into his house today.”

— Why do I have to convince Megumi? You came up with the idea.

"Because I'll be busy, simple. And Fushiguro doesn't take me seriously.", and then you sighed heavily, already noticing that you were less than a block away from entering the college grounds.

— Okay, I see what I can do.

Kugisaki told you that she was waiting for you in the classroom, and you replied that you were already there. And then something distinctive caught your attention. It was strangely easy to spot something different in the landscape of the university entrance because usually it was always the same: university students rushing to settle personal matters or to classes they are late for, or also students who came to see what the college was like before the university application period.

But today was different. There was a tall man fully dressed in black and gray leaning against a motorcycle that looked as if it had been taken from an action movie because it was so well equipped and large. He looked relaxed, and yet he still possessed an aura that could kill you with a single punch. Attractive and devilishly dangerous with that leather jacket highlighting his strong arms and broad shoulders. Forcing your eyes a little, you could notice a scar close to one of the corners of his lips.

— What's the matter, little girl? — His deep voice reaches your ears, but your mind whispers to you that he probably wasn't talking to you at the same time that your heart starts to beat out of control and your head turns from side to side trying to check if there is someone behind you. — Yeah, I'm talking to you. — He smiled sideways.

— Uh... hmm... none, sorry. — Your cheeks started to heat up and you wanted to punch yourself in the stomach because usually a simple man couldn't disconcert you like that, and then your eyes fell on his collarbones, well marked by the black shirt he wore under his jacket, and your mouth suddenly felt too dry.

— What exactly are you apologizing for? — The man asked as he placed one of the helmets on the motorcycle seat, if there were two helmets maybe he brought some college girl? — For eating me with your eyes or staring at me? — And then you choked on your saliva and coughed desperately for air trying not to drop the folders in your hands and he seemed amused by your reaction.

— I-I... — Your fingers squeezed the folders and you had to look away to think straight. — I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I didn't mean to.

— I am not, it's great to be lusted after by younger girls. — He replied, but before he had a chance to continue his onslaught someone approached from the diagonal.

— Dad! — And then you choked again seeing that the one who was referring to the man in front of you as "dad" was Megumi. — Oh, Y/N? — He looked confused looking from you to his own father. — Anyway, they didn't have what you wanted at the pharmacy, next time you'll buy it yourself. — The young Fushiguro spoke to the older man, but seconds later, noticing the mortifying silence that settled over the place as you stared at his father, he spoke up: — And we are almost late already, let’s go, Y/N. — Megumi took one of your arms and started to guide you away from the motorcycle and closer to the interior of the college.

— You never told me you were interested in girls. — His father shouted more to embarrass his son than you, but the effect was the opposite, since you were the one with the burning cheeks.

— Shut up, Toji. — Megumi shouted back as he continued walking. — Did he say shit to you? — He asked you when the two of you were already walking down the halls to your classroom for the first class of the morning.

— Not really, no. He seems... fine. — You tried to talk as if you didn't have dirty thoughts running through your mind especially after remembering the older man's collarbones and scar, and still Megumi gave you an accusing look.

— Don't try to fuck my father, that's disgusting. - Your eyes widened.

— I wasn't thinking that, you idiot. — And then Megumi let out a loud laugh.

— I know, I was just trying to amuse you. — He shrugged and left you standing in front of the door. — See you at lunch?

— Yes, of course. — You answered, and then suddenly remembered Nobara's request on the phone earlier. Your hand held one of his arms so that he wouldn't walk away without listening to you. — Megumi, can we have a movie night at your place tonight? Nobara came up with the idea of doing this to cheer me up a bit. — He seemed to become suddenly tense.

— I'll have to at least let Toji know that there will be people coming home today. — Megumi answered vaguely and shrugged. — I'll send a message to Kugisaki and let her know if it's on or off.

Nodding your head positively, you gave your friend a slight smile, and then for the rest of the day your mind concentrated on paying attention to your classes, your scheduled seminars and the pile of work you still had to do. There was no time for your heart to pound with grief over the loss of your now ex-boyfriend, but there were several minutes when you had to chase away persistent thoughts of Megumi's dad. But looking at him wasn't enough, your hands wanted to explore his body and leave marks everywhere, that's what you thought until you felt ashamed, pushed the thoughts away for a few brief minutes and then thought about it again. In a vicious loop.

When you were having lunch with Itadori, Fushiguro and Kugisaki, your head tried to focus on their conversation as much as possible, but looking at the man with black hair and beautiful eyelashes reminded you of Toji and your hands started to break into a cold sweat. It had been a frustrating, tiring day, but secretly you were a little excited to see your friend's father again.

— Don't take too long, okay? — Nobara spoke after dropping you off and leaning against the hallway wall, and you nodded positively before going to your room to pack a backpack with some pajamas and an outfit in case you and the other two friends ended up falling asleep while you were at Megumi's house.

It didn't take long before you two were ringing the doorbell of the Fushiguro’s house and from the loud sound from inside the house you both could tell Yuuji had already arrived. Suddenly, Y/N felt nervous not knowing who would answer the door. Would it be Toji? "Damn", you thought as you saw exactly him calmly opening the door. This time he wasn't wearing very dark clothes, it was just gray sweatpants and a white v-neck shirt that still highlighted his beautiful collarbones.

— Is that them? — Itadori shouted from another room in the house.

— Yes. — Megumi, who was looking at the two girls standing in the doorway over Toji's shoulder, answered. — You may come in.

Toji moved to the side letting you two into the house and, using the personal excuse of being embarrassed, Y/N walked in with her head down. And partly, in fact, it was true that you were embarrassed, but your mind knew that your eyes wanted to take a good look at the older Fushiguro's thighs and cock. It was impossible not to look at those parts of his body, especially with that kind of pants.

But then Toji gave himself the right to go up the stairs to the upper floor of the house and out of your field of vision when Megumi asked you and Nobara which movie you wanted to watch and she answered that a drama movie. And then the four of you started to watch the movie comfortably, until you started to feel the straps of your own bra start to press painfully against the skin of your shoulders.

— Can I go to the bathroom? — Y/N asked Megumi, who pointed to the steps of the staircase diagonally across from the sofa.

— First door on the left. — You nodded and walked up the stairs carrying your backpack, intending to get rid of your bra and also put on the comfortable pajama top that had been brought.

From the hallway you could hear the low sound of another TV escaping through the gap in a tall door. It was probably Toji's room, such a thought raced through your mind, and you shrugged as you entered the bathroom, leaned against the door, and began to remove your bra and change into your shirt. It was inevitable to sigh in relief as you felt your shoulders less tense and sore and your hands groped your breasts just for the personal pleasure of feeling them free now.

— Hmm, may I come in? — A muffled voice was heard behind the door and instinctively you quickly removed your hands from your breasts.

— Just a minute. — Y/N answered, shoving the previously worn blouse into her backpack and almost running toward the door, slowly opening it.

You looked forward and found yourself facing a bare hard chest as you waited to see a long hallway with four different doors. Toji was now shirtless in front of you and your cheeks burned a little, which got a little worse when your brain short-circuited, your hand rested two fingers against the warm, somewhat soft skin of his chest, and you pulled away slightly so that you could look him in the eye.

— I'm sorry. — Your hand finished opening the door and there was again a sideways smile on Toji's lips

— Are you going to sleep here? — He asked, sliding his gaze over her shoulders, breasts and abdomen freely, without any embarrassment.

— No, actually. I just changed my shirt to be more comfortable.

— Got it. — Toji looked you straight in the eyes again, but yours were already gliding across his face until you found the scar close to his lips.

— How did you get this scar? — You felt the need to prolong the conversation just to get a better record of his face.

— You're pretty curious for someone apparently shy. — He remarked, his eyes sparkling with a gleam that you couldn't quite identify what it was. — When I was younger, we could say I wasn't the friendliest person in the whole world, so I got into a few fights. — Toji shrugged, as if this was not relevant information

How old are you? — A mischievous smile slowly drew on his lips.

— Old enough to be your dad.

"Then maybe I can call you Daddy", was the first thing you thought, but there wasn't enough courage in you to flirt shamelessly, especially with Megumi or the other two able to eavesdrop from downstairs.

— I think I've been here with you long enough. — Y/N answered, putting the backpack on her back and walking past Toji, but just as her feet were about to start down the steps, the older Fushiguro called her out.

— I think you forgot something, little girl. — You turned back in confusion, and in his hands was your bra. Toji threw the piece of clothing toward you through the air without much force to fall gently onto your palms that had opened toward him. — The next time you forget something like that inside my house, I'll keep it for myself. — You frowned, assuming that he was implying that there was possibly something between you and his son.

— Me and Megumi, we don't... — Your shoulders shook without your mouth finishing the sentence.

— I wasn't talking about him exactly, you're very naive, not that that's a problem for me. — He went into the bathroom and eventually you were alone again.

Feeling more embarrassed than the first time you had seen Toji earlier at the university entrance, you joined your friends again in the middle of the movie and were grateful that none of them had bothered to ask if anything had happened in the bathroom because of your delay. Eventually Nobara fell asleep on your shoulder after eating two pieces of the pizza Megumi had asked his father to buy, and Yuuji began to yawn almost pushing the son of the owner of the house off the couch.

— I knew they would both end up sleeping. — Megumi grumbled, pushing Itadori aside and getting up from the sofa. — There are two guest bedrooms upstairs, you and Nobara can use both of them and Yuuji sleeps with me, or one of you can sleep with me and the other and Itadori in the other bedrooms.

— I think it's better that Yuuji better sleep with you. — Y/N replied looking at Kugisaki, who was starting to fall off her shoulder.

And then Fushiguro woke the almost sleeping Itadori to go upstairs while he carried Nobara up the stairs and you accompanied him carrying both your and your friend's backpack. After tidying Kugisaki up in bed and getting Yuuji changed, Megumi spoke to you before leaving you alone in the guest room:

— If you feel hungry, you can go in the kitchen and get something to eat during the night. And, well, you already know where the bathroom is, and so does my room. If anything happens during the night, you can call me or him. — Megumi pointed to the door of Toji's bedroom, and you nodded positively.

And then you laid lazily on the slightly uncomfortable bed in the room and tried to relax. Almost, almost, sleep caught up with you, but your evil brain began to make you think about the fact that Toji was only a few miserable doors away, and the anxiety began to corrupt you rapidly, like a corrosive acid. But even though you wanted to go knock on his door, you forced yourself to sleep, especially since the day had been exhausting.

The next day, just like the rest of the week, Y/N didn't get to see Megumi's dad, and he didn't make much of a point of talking about his father either, after all, why would his friends be interested in him, right? All the other days of the week, her mind focused more on trying not to think about her ex-boyfriend and also not to think about Toji, just college business.... And then came the next Thursday of the successive week.

And there was Toji Fushiguro, leaning against his big motorcycle, but this time with only one helmet and different clothes. Honestly? You didn't know if you should go talk to him or not, if you should just walk right by or not. But, in the end, your mind tricked you into choosing the second option, and your feet awkwardly made their way to the college with your eyes struggling not to check the man's reactions.

— Can I have your number, little girl? — Toji asked in a tone loud enough for you to hear.

— What? — You looked away, wringing your hands nervously.

— I asked if I could have your number. — One of his hands swung his cell phone toward you.

The first thought that crossed your mind was, "What if someone sees us together and tells Megumi?", but honestly, Megumi probably wouldn't be interested in your sex or love life, even if it was with his father.

— Maybe, if you take me for a motorcycle ride today.

— You're wearing a skirt, are you sure you'd want to do that? — Toji suppressed a playful laugh. — You could have a ride somewhere more comfortable than my motorcycle today.

You narrowed your eyes and bit the inside of your cheek, realizing that you were entering dangerous territory in a game of seduction that Toji knew and played better than you.

— Will Megumi be at home?

— He has an internship today. — Toji replied, drumming his fingers on his helmet.

— Wait for me after four o'clock then. — You replied and walked back toward the college as you felt his eyes fixed on your ass.

Throughout the day you felt uncomfortably nervous and Nobara even asked you if everything was okay several times at different times. The only answer your mind formulated was a simple positive head movement, because honestly you felt embarrassed to be interested in a friend's dod, even though this father was extremely attractive and did not reject your shy and restrained advances. He was just so nice, fine.

Fine enough to make you press your thighs together to try to relieve the sexual tension as your legs walked towards the Fushiguro house. And when you got there, it didn't take long to see Toji opening the door wearing only black sweatpants. You went inside and closed the door, nervously watching the older man, who sat comfortably on the sofa in the living room and called out to you with his index finger. As you stopped in front of him, one hand patted his lap and the other was placed on your thigh covered by your skirt. Slowly, Y/N took her seat sitting on his covered cock.

— Why do you look so tense, hm? — Toji asked, squeezing your thigh without too much force and you moved slightly against his hip. — Are you a virgin by any chance? — Your cheeks heated up.

— N-No, you just make me nervous. — Y/N replied, shrugging slightly.

— Do I? — He pretended to be surprised as he slid his hand up her skirt and pushed his fingertips against her covered pussy. — Do I make you get your panties wet too? — Toji pressed his hips against hers and her hands rested on his shoulders for a few brief seconds.

— Fuck, yes. — You groaned, taking your fingers to the buttons of your shirt to undo them. — I've been thinking about you more than I should, I've been thinking about everything about you.

— So, why don't you show me how much you've been thinking about me, huh? — Fushiguro pulled her panties aside and stroked her pussy in slow circular motions while he brought his other hand to her face and pulled her closer to his. — Show me how much you want me and cum on my fingers like the dirty slut I know you can be. — His thumb slowly brushed over your lips and you opened them, your mouth filled by long fingers.

You grabbed his wrist close to your intimacy and guided two of his digits into your interior. And, fuck, they filled you so well. Toji's fingers were thicker and longer than yours, so the times he repeatedly curved them inside your cunt, their tips easily brushed and pressed that spot that made you roll your eyes having your body spasm with pleasure. "What a beautiful vision", the man would be thinking as he watched his beautiful college girl choking on his fingers while being fucked by the others.

However, he didn't move his hand against you much, meaning that he let you choose the pace and intensity, until you whimpered against his neck in a silent request for his fingers to move against you:

— Please, Toji, move your fingers. — Y/N said as she pulled away from Toji's digits that were preventing her from speaking and forced her hips against his hand.

— Can't you cum on your own? — He asked squeezing your chin to make you keep your mouth open. — Pathetic. — Toji spat on your tongue and closed your mouth to force you to swallow. — Pathetic slut. — And then he began to finger you in a relentless rhythm.

If Fushiguro wanted to make you cum in his hand, that's exactly what he got, and he even got a great view of your trembling body, your breasts rising and falling rapidly because of your rapid breathing and your head falling back in an intense pleasure you didn't know your body could achieve. While you were still clouded by ecstasy, his fingers snuck up to finish removing your panties and getting rid of your clothes covering your upper body. He wanted you only in your skirt.

— Look at my pet slut with her beautiful cunt leaking. — His fingers spread the folds of your pussy to see you twitching around just at his obscene words. — Just so nice. — Toji pressed the thumb against your sensitive clit and gave you a smirk before he sat you down on one of his thighs, began to move you there and also slowly stimulated your clit.

His body leaned down and his lips latched onto your breasts, sucking and licking them more intensely as your hips moved faster against his thigh. And occasionally Fushiguro would pull up her skirt and slap her ass hard enough to leave several finger marks across her skin; and it was on one of his slaps that a short, gasping, "Daddy" sneaked out from between your lips and hit Toji's mind as a twinge of intense pleasure coursed through his entire body.

— Say that again. — He ordered, grabbing her neck with the hand that had been slapping her ass before.

— Daddy... — Y/N groaned breathlessly as she continued to move her hips against Toji's thigh in a desperate attempt to cum again.

— Keep calling me that, be a good little whore for me. — His other hand continued to stimulate your clit, now at a more intense pace that managed to push you straight into the abyss of a orgasmic pleasure that you so desperately needed.

After that, Fushiguro held you still in place as he continued to press his fingers against your clit. He definitely wanted to bring you close to the level of almost passing out from so much lust running freely through your body, and so your legs instinctively closed around his hand. At the same time that you desperately needed to breathe because you felt like your lungs were burning from your intense panting, every fiber of your body was still clamoring for the stimulation that only Toji could give you at the moment, so it wasn't hard for him to force your legs open again with a sly smile on his lips:

— Come on, my pretty girl, give me everything you've got. — He made scissor-like movements against her walls and her hips automatically forced themselves against Toji's palm, even though her intimacy was already quite sensitive.

— Daddy, please... please, more, daddy... — Y/N sank her face into the curve of Toji's neck trying to stifle her own moans.

— What a great fuck toy you are. — His fingers curved and you gasped, feeling again that same pressure as before against your bottom that indicated that your third orgasm was approaching. — No matter how much I make you cum you keep asking for more.

And the more he moved his fingers frantically against your pussy, the more you felt your thoughts disappear completely and all that was left was only Toji Fushiguro, and his fingers, and the cocky smile he had no matter what the situation was. Those same fingers that made you squirt for the first time against his abdomen in a third, overwhelming orgasm and your cheeks heat up violently, especially after seeing Toji bring them to his lips looking more than just satisfied with his work with you. Fuck, you could fuck him several times, you could pass out from pleasure, and you still wouldn't ask him to stop or slow down with you.

— Think you can handle one more, pretty girl? — He asked, his hands reaching for his pants and underwear.

— Yes, Daddy. — Y/N tried to speak as firmly as possible with her heavy breathing.

Toji put one hand on your waist and the other on your chin and took the opportunity to pull you in for a kiss as he entered you slowly, which made you lose some focus on the kiss and moan against his mouth as your nails dug into the skin of his shoulders. He didn't let you get too used to the recent intrusion and started thrusting himself against you hard.

After leaving yours, his mouth slid down your neck and shoulders to leave sucking and biting the area before placing the hand that was on your chin on your neck. Eventually yours moans went from simple gasps and sighs to little "Daddy" that made Fushiguro's dick twitch against yours insides several times and grunts escape his lips.

— I will breed you like the desperate little whore that you are. — Toji stroked hard against you while squeezing your neck a little harder. — I bet you're going to love this, aren't you?

— Y-Yes, daddy, breed me, please. — Y/N moved her hips against his while maintaining eye contact with the older man's predatory eyes. — Fill me up completely, until I'm leaking.

Toji squeezed your waist tightly, tilted your body slightly until your hips arched a bit, and started a rhythm of thrusts against you that as a result made your mind go blank and your nails leave scratches on his shoulders. And your fourth orgasm didn't even take long to hit you almost as hard as the third because your whole body had been extremely sensitive for a long time; after fucking that man incessantly you would definitely be addicted to him, to his touch, to his dick, to his lips. Everything about him was addictive.

After making you cum for the fourth time, Fushiguro kept thrusting inside you until his cock forcefully contracted against you and filled you full of cum. By that point you had definitely become just a bunch of holes for him to fuck, and if your body wasn't already so sensitive you might want him to actually fill every possible place in your body with cum. When he withdrew his dick from inside your pussy, Toji pulled your hips up to watch the white liquid escape your entrance and used his fingers to push it into you again.

— Come here. — He patted his chest lightly, and you leaned your sweaty body against his as you lifted your head to look at him. His hands caressed your body and soon you found yourself being carried up the stairs. — I'm going to give you a long shower, and then I'll take you home. — Toji left a gentle kiss against your forehead, and you felt more comfortable than you really should have in his arms.

— Thank you, daddy. — You replied, and he couldn't suppress a satisfied smile.

And maybe from then on you continued to take advantage of the times when Megumi wasn't home or you weren't so busy with college to spend hours together.

[wonderful-writes]

Presume

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tom thinks you’re too pretty to be any good at academics. You can imagine his shock when he’s proven wrong.

Word Count: 2k (2,097)

Author’s Note: The idea for this fic was given to me by @bellaswansrealgf. It was such a fun topic to write, so thank you so much bae for coming up with the idea! I’ll definitely be using more of your suggestions in the future.

Tom Riddle found himself becoming increasingly irritated. How could Professor Slughorn possibly expect him to work with a partner? What kind of fool did Slughorn think he was? Tom was perfectly capable of completing his project himself, and it was rather insulting for his professor to assign someone to help him. And not just anyone. Slughorn had assigned you.

You, the pretty girl, were in no capacity an ideal partner. You were friendly and charming and surely too bubble-headed to know a thing about potions. You were probably irritating and selfish and vain, too. Tom would have rather been partnered up with the clown from Gryffindor than with you.

“Tom, right?” you asked as you took a seat next to him. You were dressed in neat robes and had nicely styled hair. You probably spent all morning on it.

“Yes,” he replied curtly without so much as a glance your way. He began flipping his textbook to the desired page and scanning it with his eyes.

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced.

Tom ignored you as he continued to read the page.

“So, what kind of potion do you think we should make?” you asked him, opening your own book.

Once again, Tom didn’t bother to look up or respond.

“Hello?” you tried again.

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Listen, I know potions is probably not your area of expertise, so it’s best if you just sit there and let me work.”

“Excuse me?” you asked, surprised at how this stranger could claim to already know you without having ever spoken to you. “How would you know if I’m not good at potions?”

Tom scoffed. “If you haven’t noticed, you don’t exactly look like you’d be much of an academic.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned, starting to get offended.

“Well, I’m the best in the class,” Tom said like it was the most natural thing to come out of his mouth. “Professor Slughorn probably sent you here so that I could babysit you. You can’t be any good if you need me as a mentor.”

“I don’t need you as a mentor,” you told him. “Professor Slughorn wanted us to work together for this assignment.”

“Like I said,” he replied, turning back to his book, “maybe you should let me handle the assignment.”

You were beyond aggravated. How could someone who barely knows you make such assumptions about you? You were more than adept in potions, and it was unfair of him to shut you down without letting you prove your skills.

“You realize this assignment is worth 25% of our grade, don’t you?” you asked him as you crossed your arms.

 “Precisely,” he answered. “Which is why I won’t let you mess it up.”

You had never met a more arrogant person.

“If you’re going to be this way,” you declared, “I’ll just ask Slughorn if I can work alone. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience the great Tom Riddle.”

Tom breathed a sigh of relief as you packed your belongings and walked away. You were attractive, sure, but you were also annoying. He was glad to be rid of anyone who didn’t let him take charge.

Slughorn allowed the two of you to work separately. To Tom’s approval, you set up your station far away from his. He almost pitied you. It couldn’t be easy for someone like you to complete an entire project by yourself. People like you only cared about their appearances or what the latest gossip was. There was no way you could make any of the complicated potions on the list of options for the assignment without help.

~

By the end of the week, Slughorn had finished grading the students’ potions and their accompanying essays. Tom, ever so confident in his abilities, was shocked when he didn’t receive a perfect score.

“What did I do wrong, Professor?” he asked after class had been dismissed. “I could have sworn I didn’t miss anything.”

“You forgot to crush the bay leaves before you put them in,” Slughorn explained. “But not to worry, my boy. You chose a highly complex concoction. It is almost guaranteed that any student who attempts to recreate it will forget at the very least one step.”

“Did anyone else choose that potion?” Tom wondered.

Slughorn nodded with a twinkle in his eye.

“And did anyone get it right?” Tom asked. He was doubtful that anyone in the class could have succeeded at something he failed to perfect, but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“That’s for me to know, my boy,” the teacher answered. Seeing the frustrated look on Tom’s face, he chuckled and added, “Just know that you shouldn’t judge your partners so prematurely.”

Tom spent the majority of the night ruminating on Slughorn’s words. Could it be that you were the student who had gotten the perfect score on the potion he had attempted? He refused to believe it. Slughorn must have been referring to another student, one that Tom was paired with in the past. You couldn’t possibly be the partner in question.

~

It had been weeks since Tom came in second for the first time in his life. He convinced himself that it couldn’t have been you who bested him. Of course, he speculated who the true victor could be, but he couldn’t put his finger on who in the class could be worthy of such high marks.

Eventually, the time came for the annual examination preparation. Professor Slughorn’s students were assigned a series of practice exams to help them prepare for the actual ones. Each practice test focused on a different area within potions, and it was the students’ job to be well-versed in all of them.

At the beginning of every week, a new practice exam was passed out, and the grades for the previous week’s exam was posted on a roster at the front of the class.

Tom never bothered with making a show of checking his grades, knowing fully well that he would always be at the head of the class. But with the newfound knowledge of a possible competitor, he couldn’t quell his curiosity.

Making his way to the front of the room with the usual throng of Slytherin boys, he displayed no sign of concern. Why should the best in the year have to worry about some halfwit who ran into a bit of luck one time?

His air of indifference was quickly squashed, however, when he approached the posted practice exam scores and saw that his was the second highest. Second? That couldn’t be right. Tom Riddle never came in second. Who was first? Who could feasibly best Tom Riddle at a potions examination? The most brilliant student in all of Hogwarts, and in his best subject too?

He was horrified beyond comparison when he saw none other than your name at the pinnacle of the score sheet.

You.

Impossible. There was no chance that the bubbly girl with the face of an angel, er, a moron, could ever have received such excellent marks.

He’d seen you around, and you were most definitely not the kind of girl who cared about your performance in school. You were always smiling with your friends or tucking your hair behind your ear or dazzling a crowd with an extraordinary story. When you weren’t smoothing down your clothes or checking your made-up face, you were befriending the professors, something only stupid people needed to do.

So how could you have gotten a higher score than him? There must have been a mistake. He would have to ask Slughorn about it after class.

As he walked back to his seat, he glanced at where you were positioned, a table not too far from his own. You had already started on your assignment for the day, making quick work of the cutting and crushing of ingredients. Sure enough, you were dripping with the grace and beauty of someone who most likely didn’t know the difference between reed and foxtail.

How could one possibly be proficient in any academic subject when they looked like that? You probably spent more time shining your shoes than studying for exams. Then how did you beat him, and twice?

He watched you work for the remainder of the period. To his surprise, you were doing everything correctly. You never added a drop too much or a sprig too little. You stirred with precision and knew what color to look for in the brew. You seemed to know exactly what you were doing. Were you truly more intelligent than he had originally presumed?

Still unconvinced, he approached Professor Slughorn after dismissal to question the scores from the most recent exam.

Slughorn only sent him a mysterious look before answering, “Everything is as it should.”

-

After the third week of coming in second place, Tom decided that it was enough. It was time he put his troubles to rest and find out for himself what sort of witchcraft was in play.

“Are you cheating?” he abruptly asked you the moment you took your seat. Professor Slughorn was not yet in class, giving the students ample time to converse before lessons began.

Startled, you stared back at him. “What?”

“You must be receiving help on your practice exams or at the very least borrowing notes from someone,” he stated matter-of-factly. “So tell me. Who is it?”

You had had enough of this arrogant git’s behavior. “What makes you think I need help? Is it so hard to believe that you are not the only person in this room who can do well in school?”

“Well I- you see, you’re not exactly the sort to put much thought to academics,” he defended.

“And what sort is that?” you questioned.

“You know, the vain, pretty lot,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’d imagine you spend more time on your appearance than on your academics.”

You gaped at the boy before you. “You think I’m pretty? And before you go on, my appearance has nothing to do with my drive to excel in scholarly affairs. I’ll have you know I’m more than capable of receiving just as good of marks as you are, despite what you think.”

“Then work with me on today’s partner project,” he challenged.

“Excuse me?” The last thing you were expecting was for the high-and-mighty Tom Riddle to want anything to do with you after his blatant rudeness.

“If you’re truly as good as you say—”

“You mean as good as the scores prove,” you cut in.

Tom rolled his eyes. “If you’re really that good, show me. Demonstrate your skills on today’s potion, and I’ll believe you.”

So the two of you spent the class working together on the assigned potion. Tom made sure to stand back so that you could have the freedom to do things on your own, silently hoping that you would make a mistake. But you didn’t.

Your potion was perfect. There was not an herb out of place or a drop not potent enough. Everything was as it should.

You had clearly proven to Tom that you were a skilled student, worthy of his second glance. You only hoped that the self-righteous twat would realize not to judge people before knowing them.

“While I hate to admit my own shortcomings, you were right,” Tom conceded.

You smiled at his admittance. “Thanks, Tom. I’m glad you learned something from this experience.”

He had expected to feel more disdain at the fact that he had finally found his match. He was waiting for annoyance, jealousy, some spark of rage at being second-best. But all he felt was a strange sensation.

You were quite honestly brilliant, and he couldn’t remember a time when he genuinely thought that about a fellow student. You were quick-witted, sharp-tongued, and unafraid to back down from a challenge. You stood up to him despite barely knowing anything about him, other than that he was a royal pain to you. And, not to mention, you were quite a sight to behold.

It was no secret that Tom kept to himself more often than not. Sure, he had a group of peers who respected him — whether out of fear or genuine liking is up for debate — but he never got to know anyone on a personal level. He never let anyone get too close or see him for someone other than the shining pupil with big plans. But, for once, he wanted someone to share his genius with.

He intended to make you that person.

—

Part 2

[cityoftheangelllls]

Entry 12 in my historical Disney Princess series: Fa Mulan!

I went with the Northern Wei Dynasty for this one, since this is when “The Ballad of Hua Mulan” is believed to have first appeared and a lot of sources say it’s when her story is supposed to be set. But then again, I found it difficult to decide when to place Mulan, since the movie seems to have a lot of aspects from different dynasties integrated into one time period. For instance, the only time the Huns ever actually attacked China was during the Qin and Han dynasties (between 221 BCE and 220 AD), and the Emperor’s palace bears a strong resemblance to the Forbidden City, which was completed in 1420. Still, after researching Chinese fashion a bit, I couldn’t help but see all the similarities between Wei Dynasty fashion and the clothing worn by Mulan and the other females in the movie. Also, since we have no evidence of Mulan being a real person, I think it’s safe to say that the story of Mulan is a folktale or legend, and that the events described in it don’t exactly have to line up with historical events.

It turns out that much of Mulan’s wardrobe doesn’t deviate that much from women’s Hanfu from the Wei Dynasty. I only had to change a few things around, such as the sleeves and her hairstyles, and I added some colorful patterns that Wei Dynasty women were said and shown to have on their Hanfu. I tried to be careful to not make her look too much like a noblewoman, since she is a common woman. Aside from Google and Pinterest, I thank the stars above that I had @ziseviolet as a resource- her blog is chock full of amazing reference pictures, and I’m so grateful for that! Ultimately, the one outfit that turned out to be farthest from the original design when I redid it was her armor.

Commissions info

[baeklination]

With My Favourite Ally

Date: 210923

Warnings: SMUT 🔞, a lot of general fucking, anal, mouth fucking (incl. gagging), sucking, fingering, water*1, eating out, buttplug, gen.expl.lang.

Pairing: Baekhyun x F. Reader

WC: 7,1k

NOTE: *1. Yes, people - we have a shower scene. 2. It's a bit on the rough side at times, so remember that things are said/done in - and with - love.

Masterlist

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"...so they closed it off, but if you take the exit just before that one you'll be okay", Gemma explains over the speaker.

"Yeah, okay. It should be on the GPS, I think. We wouldn't want to make a…"

"WRONG TURN!"

"WRONG TURN!"

Too many times you've laughed at that joke - too many times you've seen that movie.

"Oh, wait, here he comes", you say, hearing the keys in the door. "Baekhyun..?"

"Yeah..?"

"Your GPS shows roadworks, right?"

"Yeah, sure. Hi", he says, giving you a quick kiss. "Do we have to take a different route?"

"Roadworks. Nothing cumbersome", Gemma assures him.

"Why can't you be friends with people who live in the city", Baekhyun jokes, speaking loudly for Fiona to hear.

"Hey, Baekhyun..! The ocean breeze will do you good, you'll see… So anyway, see you tomorrow? And remember you don't have to…"

A package of hard plastic lands on the table in front of you, flipping it around you raise your eyebrows and look at Baekhyun.

"...just come as you are."

"Yeah, sure. I'll call when we get there, let you know. Bye, Gem."

"Bye..!"

"A little small, no?"

Baekhyun takes a spoonful of your ice cream, shaking his head as he drags the spoon out.

"It's not for you, honey."

"Oh?"

"When you told me you were getting your nails done I felt kinda…"

"Ah, you felt kinda…", you smile at him.

"Yeah. And I thought I'd get an upgrade. You done with dinner?"

"You want to try it now? A size jump? What if it hurts tomorrow?"

He cradles your hand in his, kissing it and smiling mischievously.

"Is that how you felt when you met me..?"

Rolling eyes in head and tongue in mouth, you sigh at his cheek.

"Actually, you're right, Baekhyun. I can't wait."

"And then…", he says, getting to his knees in front of you, putting his hands on your thighs. "...we do it my way."

Baekhyun moans with delight when you press the circle against his hole, securing the plug.

"Can you move?"

"Now why…", he says, pulling you over him. "...are you treating me like a virgin? It's only bigger… Yes, I can move. Or were you hoping I wouldn't be able to..?"

He almost rips your zipper in two when he opens it, but without a care in the world for Maison, he continues to put his hand down your trousers. Twirling your panties around his hand, dragging them upwards, he teases your clit.

"Go change into something I like..?", he asks sweetly, planting juicy kisses on your lips. "Maybe...something black..? Do that for me?"

The way he asks, you'd wear any and every piece of clothing he likes… But also: the way he asks, what he likes may be in tatters by morning, so you don't pick from the high-end side. Giving him a dramatic twirl (mostly in jest) you show off your pick: a spaghetti-strapped mesh body - black.

"Good enough?"

He stops stroking himself, eagerly opening his arms when you join him on the bed - you in turn eagerly open your lips to his. They move delicately but hungrily on your mouth, matching his hands caressing your waist, thighs and rounding the curve of your ass, jiggling it.

"What's this?", he coos playfully, smacking you.

"Hey, I'm wearing a dress tomorrow. No marks", you remind him.

"The new one?"

"Yes. So don't-"

"Then your body's fine", he says and smacks your ass again. "This is fine.. Now be a good little wifey and lay down."

Placing himself behind you, his arm slides around your neck almost like a chokehold, but he keeps his hand firmly on your shoulder, grounding him.

Lifting your leg, he watches himself fuck you in the mirror, his dark eyes fixed on your stretched out pussy. He bites his lip, moaning as he rolls his now slick cock in and out.

"Move it…", he whispers deeply behind your ear, referring to the mesh covering you. "I want to see when you get swollen."

Baekhyun's not alone in enjoying the view; seeing yourself being filled by him adds a lewd layer to the act - one you've been partial to since the days you used to do it in front of his TV, for lack of a big mirror.

"This plug...mh…"

"Is it better..?"

"It's on my g-spot every time I push...and with your pussy around me…", he mumbles stickily, moving faster. "Ohh…"

You feel his entire range of motion with his length, curving up, getting thicker, lodging deep - in this position he even strokes just below your entrance when he slides in and out.

"And I thought I was the main event…", you moan, pressing on his back.

"You are my main event."

Letting go of your leg he closes his mouth around your breast, sucking and dragging his teeth over it, breathing salaciously. His saliva is stuck between the pattern of the mesh when he removes his mouth to pull it down, kissing roughly directly on your skin. Your fingers on his neck draws his attention to your mouth, where he buries his tongue deep, tasting every part of it and pushing his hand between your now closed legs and lets it rest in its tight fit as he thrusts hard into you from behind.

Moving back to kneel, he moves the skin on his cock over its head. When it glides over your tongue you taste yourself before his pre-cum eventually dominates the taste in your mouth. It doesn't take long for it to be clear he doesn't want a blowjob, not the way he's pushing his pelvis forward, steadying your head with a hand on the side of your face, so you stay still.

"Mmm...look at that…"

Throwing a glance at the mirror you're met by your puffed up cheeks trying to keep up with Baekhyun's cock.

"Ahh...look at that", he moans huskily, dropping his head back, grabbing his shaft tightly, squeezing a ring around it with his thumb and index, thrusting faster.

Your nose starts running along with your eyes. He ignores the small jerking of your body - he wants the big one. Blowing out air through your coughing, he gets it. You groan, catching your breath, and shake your head at him and his antics.

His hands are soft going down the sides of your face, as soft as soft as his chuckle and subsequent kiss on your temple before he straightens up, angling your head up to take him in your mouth again.

"Don't block me, honey", he demands in a sweet voice, juxtaposed to his wish to shove his cock down your throat.

Trying a slower approach, he lets you relax your jaw before letting him in, the head of his cock now just nudging down the rounded back of your mouth.

Even though tears have stopped gathering in your eyes from roughness, the slow pace means your larynx is blocked for a longer period, so you start feeling your chest - lungs - contract. Trying to match your breaths with his thrusts, you look up at him - the pout on his lips, tilted head and petting of your head tells you he knows exactly what's going on. For Baekhyun it's not about the sensation, not even about the gagging right now; he likes to know that his cock is lodged in your throat, that he has that kind of wife. Slipping his other hand behind your neck he pushes deep, making your muscles try to swallow him - literally. He groans and sucks in through his teeth, exhaling as he slides in again, his stomach pressing on your head.

"Breathe…", he hums, but knows it's gonna be impossible.

Not pulling out for even half a breath, he rolls his hips in quick succession, making you heave and pull back in no time. So, sitting back you glare at him - an act of complaint he adores. You turn sideways, pushing him away when he comes closer. When he tries to grab your hand you swat his away, but Baekhyun's fast; gripping your wrist before you can pull it back he bends your arm behind you. You lean forward to get away from the pain, enabling him to grab your other arm, essentially cuffing them on your back, pushing your head into the mattress. Sure, you could fight him - but do you really want to..?

Aggressively pulling your lingerie to the side he rams his cock into you.

"Ah...Ah", he growls with every hard thrust. "You think I can't see how wet you are?...Ah… Don't pretend you don't like it...Mh!"

Unintentionally, you moan, biting your lip when his groin smacks against you.

"That's it, honey...show me how you feel…", he continues, running his hand up your ass to your hip.

Taking his cock out, he flicks it back-and-forth over your anal, his breathing shaky - he's about to come. Moaning loudly as he slides back in, he lets go of your arms and holds your hips.

"Uh, fuck..!", he groans, as he rams his cock into you as fast as he can. "Shit, turn around… Uh, turn around..."

His speech is barely more than a huff. The moment you start, he pulls out, roughly grabbing your neck and pumps his cock.

"Aghh...aghh", he growls deeply, as his cum spurts over your face. "Ohhh... oh, shi…"

He crashes into the mattress knitting his brows, a necklace of sweat around his throat, glistening down between his pecs.

"Baekhyun..!", you whine, holding your hand out, keeping one eye shut tight.

Swinging his arm by the edge of the bed he comes up with his trousers in hand and gives them to you.

"Here..", he breathes hard, his stomach rising high.

After wiping his cum off, you tuck your hand under his thigh, but he's quick - so quick - to catch it.

"Don't even think about it…"

You bury your head in the covers, jokingly muttering he's no fun. He laughs, but cuts and jumps to a loud wail, again feeling how exhausted he is.

"How was it? I guess I don't have to ask, but..."

"How was it..?", he echoes, putting his hand on his cock. "I… Felt like the pressure of a goddamn fire hose went through me…", he says, rolling over, nuzzling your neck. "But you already know all about that, don't you?"

Sliding his hand between your legs, he glances up and sighs.

"I'll buy you a new one."

•

Whether it's because he feels he might've been a bit too rough or because he actually only has softness left, that's what you always get from him after this type of sex.

Pulling you down to sit on his lap, you brush your teeth in sync, the shushushu filling the bathroom of your otherwise still apartment. Even being done before you he waits, biting his toothbrush between his teeth, resting his hand on your lower back.

The start of a relationship is usually where you do everything together, but the both of you having tiny bathrooms back then meant one at a time which years on turned into double sinks. If Baekhyun is home - if you are - you wash up together. Not saying much, but together.

His stretched out arm is the airstrip personnel: "land here", which you gratefully do. The sheets are cold and make you shiver, but between pulling the covers and finding the warmth of his torso, you soon cosy on in.

"No ailments to report..?", he asks, stroking your arm.

"Nope", you shake your head on his chest. "I guess I'll see the final product tomorrow, but I shouldn't have any problems with the dress. But if I do…"

"If you do, huh..?", he smiles and tips your chin up for a kiss.

Musing for a second he starts giggling, his chest bobbing under your head.

"What?"

"Do you… Do you want me to dig up my old Halloween costume just to be safe? The mummy?"

With Baekhyun being such a dork, even laughing at his own lame jokes, how could you not follow suit?

"Pff, knowing you, you probably already have at least three dirty ideas about it…"

"I might. And knowing you…", he says, stretching to turn off the light."...you probably already have four."

Kissing you good night on the forehead he settles into the mattress with a faint grunt, like a thud in his throat, wrapping his arms tighter around you.

•

You're woken up by Baekhyun's knuckles gracing your ass.

"I know you're not thinking about putting your dick in me before saying good morning…", you mumble, drunk with sleep, not even opening your eyes.

"Never, ma'am", he whispers, keeping his laughter in his throat.

After some shifting, rustling and cool air hitting your back you feel his palm on your cheek, pulling it up. He places a soft kiss on your entrance, following with a few licks, and another kiss.

"Good morning."

"No, stay", you urge, trying to put your hand on his head under the covers.

He tsks when he comes up, pulling your lower body closer.

"I tagged you first. Besides…", he says, pushing the head of his cock into you. "...you'll barely notice, sleepy head."

Not yet wet, the spit on his cock helps, but doesn't provide the same sensuous glide as the real deal, but he semi-waits patiently; only the shortest thrusts once he's lodged his cock in you. Stroking your thigh, your stomach, kissing your shoulder, lightly pinching your nipple between his fingers while your breast lays in his palm. When you place your hand over his and push your ass back he extends his range of motion - now with the sweet glide of your juice - pressing firmly against your body, almost pausing, with every thrust. Turning towards him you tangle your fingers in his hair and enjoy the deep taste of his tongue.

"I guess a good night really does bring a good morning", you smile.

"Then I think it's gonna be a very good morning", he whispers over your lips.

Contrary to increasing his speed, he pulls out altogether and rolls out of bed. Neither far nor long though; he just gets up to pull the curtain to the side. Not completely, just enough to let in more than the echo of light you had, the overcast sky notwithstanding. His naked silhouette is gorgeous against the sliver of daylight - overcast as it may be - shining behind him and as he comes back his wet cock sways with his footsteps.

You get on his lap the moment he sits down, pushing your pussy against his length.

"Sit on me", he whispers hoarsely against your neck, gripping the underside of your legs.

You press his cock harder against your clit, in your hand feeling exactly how turned on he is, and let it stroke you before raising yourself up - and sliding down. Being pushed, Baekhyun doesn't mind laying, barely keeping his hands on your waist, biting his lips, as you pound him.

His thickness feels good, there's no need to rush. The sensation of your entrance hugging around him when you slide up, as if not wanting to let go, the way it stretches when he fills you.

He hums and caresses your stomach with his thumbs, cocking his head.

"Are you trying to get me to breed you, mama..?"

"No…", you shake your head, dropping to his chest, smiling at his remark.

Wrapping his arms around you, light as feathers, he rounds his length deep inside.

"Then why are you working my cock like that, hm?", he asks softly in your hair.

"Cus it's what I like…"

"It's what you like..? Well if it's what you like…"

He lets you sit back up again, but holds your hips firmly above his body, and thrusts. Bracing with his feet he goes just like you did, precise and hard, purposefully hitting your spot to bring out your orgasm. Even behind all the layers of hunger in his eyes, love is evident; the way he looks to see that he pleases you, does it the way you like it even though his morning hard-on is telling him to F...you...up.

With so many years passed, nearly all insecurities about being on display are far gone; you freely touch yourself in front of him - for him. Sliding your palms up your nipples sends a spark to your core, so, wetting your fingers, you run them over your clit, a signal to Baekhyun to thrust faster. With that, he starts moaning, joining in with your heavy breaths and the wet claps from your bodies.

"Baby…", you moan, dropping your head back.

It's impossible not to move your body, make the smacking harder as your fingers work deliciously on your clit. Baekhyun has always loved his morning naughties, so you bite your lip, squeeze your breast and look at him, eyes fluttering.

"Make me come, honey…"

He shivers, then he grunts, and digs his fingers into you. His pounding vibrates all between your legs as his cock pierces you over and over, and it starts your legs stiffening. You tremble and rub harder, desperately keeping your hand in place despite your tense muscles until it hits; shaking, wailing, releasing more fluids on Baekhyun's cock, you come.

He waits patiently as you ride it out, slowly pushing in and out, enjoying the mess you've made on him. Sliding out, you slump down next to him.

"I should start breakfast…", you breathe heavily, pretending to get up.

Baekhyun's hand encircles your upper arm - with a little smack due to the sweaty impact - and he comes up close behind.

"You - wife - are not going anywhere", he huffs, and kneels behind you.

"Higher", you say looking back at him, when he aligns himself.

Laying down on your back, kissing your shoulder he coos:

"Higher?", and wets his finger, gently sliding it in your ass. "You mean here..?"

When you arch deeper he giggles against your back.

"Yeah, I think you mean...right...here…"

Dropping a big ball of spit on his fingers, he smears it over your hole and presses the smooth head of his cock in, taking his time.

"Ahh...ahh...", he moans with every thrust, getting closer to being fully inside you.

Putting his arm around your neck, the right hand holding your hip, he finds his tempo. Seeing your ass being pushed up with every slap from his crotch is the perfect compliment to his burning breath on your shoulder and the ohh's that roll off his tongue every other time he bottoms out.

Pushing in deep, he changes to pressing his elbows in the mattress, clasping his hands together in front of your chest. It's barely that the rest of his body moves, only his ass swinging up and down, pushing your spine together; it's times like these you wish for some kind of reflection, to see Baekhyun's glutes tightening, the curve of his ass down to the back of his equally taut thighs.

"Ah….hhh...hhh...", he breathes hard, a spray of saliva landing on your neck, and he continues. "...hhh...uh, uh, ah", grips your pelvis hard, ramming, heaving out air as he comes in shaky thrusts.

Slowing down, he bounces against your ass, pushes deep, pulling you towards him, moaning. Even after he's settled he sweeps the hair from your neck, kisses you and, humming, rolls his hips.

•

When he's finally ready to get going his embrace reveals his hard-on, so you stick your butt out, poking him.

"Fina-"

"Ooh, don't", he groans and holds you still.

You turn around and look at him, surprised by his odd response.

"I want it to go down", he says and chuckles. "It's 'cus I put the plug in…"

"You did..? That's why you were taking so long..!", you exclaim with a big smile. "Really? Did you really?"

"I did really", he says, mimicking your tone, kissing you over the brow. "It was easier when you did it…"

"Tense?"

"Mm-hm…", he nods, putting his shoes on. "But it's fi-ine now. Shit..."

Straightening himself up, he puts his hand over his bulge and bites his lip.

It's both sexy and sweet, knowing he has it in - and that he did it in part for you.

"Are you gonna be okay to drive?", you ask, trying not to laugh.

"I'll be fine, hun. And when we get there…", he says, lifting his brow with a smile.

•

After some initial gasping and groaning, Baekhyun managed to get used to sitting with the plug, and now, twenty minutes on, you don't pay it very much mind - except for the occasional realisation that the sexiest man you know is three feet away from you with a sex toy in his ass.

With not much traffic outside of the city, Baekhyun is free to let his fingertips caress the nape of your neck as you lean towards the window, into the warming sunlight.

"I really love fucking you in the ass in the morning…", he says languidly.

"You make it sound as if I usually say no…", you murmur.

"No", he says, weaving his fingers into yours, giving your hand a kiss before resting them on your thigh. "Not at all."

With such a picturesque atmosphere it's no wonder you doze off.

Baekhyun loves singing in the car and though he's dreadfully out of tune it makes you happy to see him happy; tapping his thumb on the steering wheel, swaying his head, feeling good.

"...gateun geudaen yeppeoyo-oh-oh-ooh..!"

"CHUAYO!"

"CHUAYO!"

"Oh, you're up."

"Mm…", you sigh drowsily. "What time is it?"

"Hm, ten to four."

"Oh, it felt more like an hour than fifteen."

"Did I wake you up too early this morning? Go back to sleep...", he says, stroking your head.

"I'm not tired anymore. I wasn't even to begin with, I think."

Why are men sexy when they drive? There's nothing inherently sexy about, yet they are. At least your man is…

Nonchalantly you place your hand between his legs. He doesn't say anything, merely grunts when he slides forward a bit, touching the corners of his mouth with his fingers. He quickly becomes stiff in your hand - partly thanks to his toy, you suspect - so you put your hand down his trousers. A nudge with your fingers and his cock stands straight up in his boxers, an appetising protrusion against your palm. His hand automatically finds your thigh, squeezing it, when you drag your nails over the rim of his head. Faintly bucking his groin, he looks in both the rearview- and side mirror.

"Take it out", he says, voice thick with lust.

Contrary to traffic safety regulations you slip under the top part of the belt and lean to his side. Not pulling his pants down means you can't access his entire length, but it's nonetheless a good mouthful. Baekhyun's cock still tastes of this morning's semen since you decided on showering on arrival, bringing up images of the morning as well.

"Agh…"

His fingers tip tap under the hem of your trousers, trying to slide in, grab your ass, but it's too tight, so he lets them rest where they are. His arousal amuses you, so you push him to the back of your throat.

"Mmm...", he groans, running his hand up your back. "Let's pull in at a rest stop…"

Releasing him, but pumping, you shake your head. Throwing a glance to the side he looks almost worried, running his hand along your neck, his thumb petting your earlobe.

"Why not..?"

Then he chuckles softly through his nose and manages to put at least half of his mouth on your lips while still watching the road.

"Is it too base for my baby? Hm..?"

"No, but it's too soon for my baby", you say and sit back, nodding towards his backside.

He grimaces and squeezes himself, letting go with a loud sigh and pulls his trousers up.

"I know… You're right."

"You'll thank me when we get there", you affirm and take his hand.

"Oh, I'll something you…"

•

"...are you sure? Oh, my god, I'm so sorry."

"It's o-kay, relax..!", Gemma assures you on the other end of the line. "It's not your fault the highway jammed up, and I much prefer to have you guys groomed and clean when you do get over here."

"Argh..! Yeah, I know, but aish… Whatever, okay. We'll hurry up and see you soon."

After making good time - not pulling in at a rest stop - the highway had suddenly become crammed with cars with little to no movement in forty-five minutes, leading to you having circa fifteen minutes until the party starts.

"What'd she say?", Baekhyun asks, hanging up your dress on the closet door.

"You know her, doesn't sweat a thing. I would've said the same thing, it's just different being on this side of things", you sigh, putting your hair in a bun. "It's okay if I don't wash it, right?"

"Oooh, baby, you're so dirty…", he jokes, putting his arms around you. "But if you want to, there's time. I don't want to hurt you, but I think it's time you knew…"

"What?", you squint your eyes at him.

"Gemma...has other friends to hang out with. She's been seeing them behind your ba-…"

"Oh, I knew it was gonna be some-..!", you holler and break free, continuing to undress. "I'll be fifteen minutes."

Wringing out the water from your hair you hear the woosh of the glass door sliding and get a chill on your body.

"Has it been fifteen minutes already?"

"Maybe ten…", he says, stepping in behind you, his cock swaying stiffly.

Grabbing the shower head from you, he lets the water drench his hair, run over his closed eyes, down his body. Combing his hair back and wiping his face he smiles cheekily and starts screwing the shower head off its hose. The water flows out concentrated but soft, like from a gardening hose, so partly covering it with his thumb he regulates the water's pressure and backs you into the corner.

"We've got time."

Feeling behind his balls your fingers meet the plug; you pull it out just an inch and slide it back. Baekhyun moans, enveloping his lips over yours.

"Finally…"

He doesn't have to tell you to spread your legs, you do it eagerly when he puts the water stream to your stomach and brings it downward. The first hit on your clit gets you up on your toes, gasping, pushing your pelvis out. Baekhyun giggles in your mouth and curls two fingers into you, at the same time spraying the water on your clit again. You moan, grabbing his neck - unsuccessfully trying to grind against it, while he fiercely fucks his fingers into you.

"That's my baby", he whispers, turned on by your whines in his ear.

You pull up the skin to reveal the most sensitive part of your clit and when he aims for it your muscles immediately contract, pushing your pelvis out even further. Your mouth hangs open as you claw at his neck, convulsing on his pounding hand, crying out in pained wails.

"Shh, baby", he laughs at your excessive volume, but flicks his fingers over your clit, making you jerk and whine all the more while you come down.

Offhandedly tossing the hose to the side, pressing close, he lifts your leg and slides his hand behind your head. Sucking roughly on your lips he caresses his cock against you, looking for your entrance. Finding it, he nudges the tip in, then rounds out and snaps his pelvis.

"Ah, fuck", you gasp, putting your arm around his shoulders for support.

Continuing snapping, he doesn't stop kissing you. They're both rough, both what you want.

"Now, about what happened in the car…", he coos, looking at you while ramming his cock as deep as he can.

"What..?", you gasp. "What happened..?"

He leans in again, his back becoming hunched with every new thrust as he quickens the tempo. He exhales in high-pitched moans coated in honey, telling of his desire for you.

Water sloshes on the floor when he gets new footing, digging his fingers into your ass, his face in your shoulder. His wet hair gets plastered to his - and your - skin. Pounding into you, yet moving you along with him, he whispers hoarsely:

"I'm your husband, you shouldn't deny me these things…"

Fighting to even catch your breath between the gasps, answering him is not a priority. Being on time isn't a priority - not having your shoulder blades ground to dust against the tiles isn't a priority.

His even-paced pants are interrupted by a deep-chested trembling and his precise smacking turns to rolling when he comes.

"Ah-h-h...ash… A-HH, A-HH, AH, fu…", he moans and cries into your neck, filling you with his cum.

He pushes so deep while riding it out you have to push his shoulders down in turn; he understands, goes a little easier, a little gentler each time, ending up slowly rolling while lavishing juicy kisses on your lips.

Puffs of the giggle through his nose tickle you over the lip and he slides his length out and look down, kicking in the water.

"Leave it…", you sigh, sliding down to the floor, when he bends to grab the hose. "I'll finish up showering from down here… Come. I'll take it out."

So, kneeling in front of you, he arches with a faint moan as you drag the plug out.

"Freedom…"

"Oh, 'cus I'm the one who told you to wear it then work yourself up…"

"You are the one who worked me up, hun", he reminds you, screwing the showerhead back on and giving it to you.

•

"Eh...I don't-"

"I know, but wait 'til you see it on", Baekhyun says, holding his finger up.

Taking his first option off, he pulls the second over his head. You cock your head, knitting your brows.

"Huh?"

"I know, right?", he smiles, holding out his arms.

"How has it done that?", you exclaim in surprise.

In his hand, this flowy silk shirt looked like a woman's blouse, particularly with the knit lace encircling its short sleeves, but on him it - he - looks suave and sexy in a casual way.

"I love it. Ugh… What… And it goes great with the pants."

"Right? Even if it's all black it's a little something, something. I'm just gonna", he says and grabs his watch from the nightstand. "You ready?"

"Technically, but hmm, I don't know… Feels like something's missing…", you muse, looking in the mirror.

"Feeling a little competitive..?", he teases, looking in the mirror behind you. "Didn't you bring earrings? The small gold ones?"

"Ah!"

He breathes in loudly, smacking his lips with a nod; you know him well enough to sigh and wait for his joke about being a top fashionista.

•

"Brubububruuu..!"

"We're not that late..!", you holler, refusing to accept Michael's impromptu trumpet work.

"I had my finger on the dial to Missing People - whow! Coming through with the fashions, bro'. Nice!", he roars when Baekhyun takes off his jacket.

"Aeh…", he sighs and helps you with yours like the gentleman he is. "I have to make an effort when the missus looks like this."

Waving at a few familiar faces, your attention is diverted when Gemma appears in the kitchen door, crossing her arms:

"Well, well... Look who decided to show up!"

You extend your arm, bottle of gin in hand.

"For being late", you grimace apologetically.

"...and you know it's all her fault", Baekhyun says, pointing his thumb at you.

"...since way back in school, I've known them", Gemma explains to one of her guests.

You're not the type of couple to hang on each other's arms the whole night, but being midway through your second drink your eyes keep travelling across the room to where Baekhyun is. There's something unusually alluring about the way he looks in that shirt, be it the thin fabric whispering about his body underneath, the lace hanging off his triceps when he takes a sip or the three buttons he left undone so you'd be "begging for me to take you round back", as he had put it before you left.

Catching you eye, he casually pours a glass of water, takes a sip and - not so accidentally - spills, the water running down his neck to his chest.

"Whow. Here...", Michael says, handing him some paper.

"Thanks."

After patting his neck dry he goes to his chest, opening another button to reach, casting an eye your way.

"Ah...ah...", he moans quietly, the soft, wet clapping matching him.

Unlike in the shower, his hands now hug your hips softly as he takes you from behind. His boxers - anchored around his thighs - grace the inside of your leg as he moves.

Needs knows no bounds so for now a house wall to lean against and an outdoor sofa to rest your leg on is as good as any bedroom.

"Don't look now...", he whispers amused, lowering himself to your ear. "But I think someone's looking…"

You shut your eyes to not accidentally search for whoever it is.

"Where..?"

"You know the edge of the lawn..? He's pretending to be on the phone, maybe he is, but he keeps walking back and forth, looking here every time..."

"You wanna go back in?"

"No. I want to show you off", he says and pulls up your dress to the small of your back. "Should I spank your ass with my cock..?", he snickers.

"Shh, don't overdo it. Don't embarrass him."

"He's the little perv, spying on us. Or maybe you told him to come out..? Ah…Oh...I know how you like an audience…"

"So do you."

Carefully looking to your side, you spot him - and he's indeed a little spy. Baekhyun's right about you liking an audience, so you arch a little deeper, bend your knee higher up. Turning to face him you mouth "faster", so he goes faster, sliding his hands down your cheeks, pressing them apart. Cocking his head he can't resist to caress your anal with his thumb and moans..

His tongue plays in the side of his mouth, as if he knows your secret, knows what a dirty little girl you are, wanting him so bad you don't care who sees.

"I'm….ssh, pulling out...", he says, wetting his thumb then continues to rub.

"Wait 'til we get home…"

"Not like that", he says, letting the tip of his finger slide in, not at all having meant for it to be his length.

Even just that bit of stimulation increases your arousal, so you push back on him. Following your lead, he presses his entire thumb in, breathing all the harder.

"No, no…", he pants after a while, more so to himself than you. "I'm teasing myself..."

"You're not gonna come?"

"No", he replies, on his way over the edge. "Ahh...no, I'm waiting...ah...ah, shit."

He pulls out at the last minute, grabs the shaft of his cock and leans over you with stuttering breaths.

"Fucking close…"

•

Baekhyun's curious way of sleeping when you're out of town continues; at home he likes his side, anywhere else and he tends to stay on yours. As if he's barely moved, his head is tucked deep in the pillow, his arm seemingly slid off your waist lying just behind your back. Knowing he's had a rough week at work you decide to let him sleep in, tuck your feet in the courtesy slippers and carefully close the door behind you.

Finding an - equally courteous - robe in the bathroom you take a deep breath, smelling the hem of it. It is just a morning robe, but the stitching reminds you of the dobok Baekhyun used to wear for hapkido, when you'd pretend to be watching any- and everyone compete until he finally asked you out. He's really loved you for that long...

It's a lovely day. There's no sunny sky, or birdsong when you open the kitchen window, but an overcast, quiet morning. It might be in your head, but you imagine getting a whiff of the salty ocean and decide to have your coffee outside (hoping the beach hammock you've set your sights on doesn't flip you over).

Sighing over just how randomly you managed to pick a random magazine from the pile, you welcome the low snort coming from inside. Bending your knees, letting the robe slide from your legs, you pretend to not notice and continue "reading". A cheeky whistle rings out from the kitchen window.

"My, my…"

Bingo. Hiding behind the magazine, you compose yourself and count to three before dropping it on the grass, and sure as salt on fries, there he walks across the lawn.

"I thought I'd let you sleep in."

"M-hm…", he murmurs, opening his robe, showing his hardening cock. Stroking the back of your thigh he gives you a kiss. "How'd you sleep?"

"I was out in five. You?"

"Same", he nods, letting his robe fall down.

Straightening your legs up, he kisses a trail from your calf downwards, caressing the back of your legs. When his eyes meet yours he spanks your cheek, a quick flick of the wrist causing a lashing effect. He smiles at your jolting and the subsequent bucking of your hips in pleasure.

"Did you put the plug in again?"

"No…", he shakes his head, guiding his cock into you. "You're still my favourite toy."

It's a tighter squeeze with having your legs closed, but it means his length strokes your entrance harder - a different nuance. And when he hikes your legs up, hugging your thighs, you almost feel like a toy; letting your body bounce up and down on meeting his energetic rolling, stroking you here, digging his fingers into you there, biting his lip with dark eyes fixed on yours - Baekhyun knows full well this is the position that makes you feel the most filthy. Because with no anchoring, there's nothing you can do, no action to take than to be fucked by him. Your powerlessness makes you squirm, but also makes you wet. When Baekhyun fucks you like this...your brain goes splat. And of course, he wouldn't be Baekhyun if he didn't tease you about it. Chuckling, sucking on your leg, he coos:

"Mmpoor baby…"

Closing your eyes earns you a rough slam.

"Look at me, honey…"

Continuing with the same, hard, thrusts, he lets out a cascade of sweet moans and hums, he himself eventually closing his own eyes, elation painted on his face. Letting himself be momentarily swept away, he comes back with a few deep, soft thrusts before pulling out, spreading your bent legs. Untying the belt still round your waist, he leans in, dousing you in moany kisses, circling his thumb over your nipple. Backing, kneeling high in the grass, he softly feathers his fingertips on your thighs, his kisses leading the way, sending shivers through your body. When he reaches the edge between your legs and pussy, he runs them along it, up...down...up...down...up...down, letting his fingers follow the curve close to your hole, meeting just below it. By the pull of his lips you can tell he's near bursting with desire to eat you out, yet he waits - not only to tease you, but for your pleasure.

Sliding his fingers up, onto your folds, he carefully parts them, making sure you feel the stretch on your clit. Knowing better than to rush him all you can do is caress yourself, try not to roll your hips.

"You're swollen…", he whispers, swaying his head, taking a deep breath. Stroking circles on your ass with his thumbs, he at last lets his lips touch you, a juicy kiss just under your entrance. Wrapping his arm around your leg, he lets his fingers glide over your entrance, collecting fluids which he uses to slide up either side of your clit, massaging while continuing working under your entrance.

You watch with anticipation when he comes closer. Barely opening his mouth he envelopes your clit, letting his slick lips slide from it before doing it again.

"Put your fingers inside…", you whisper, tangling your fingers in his hair.

He calmly takes it away with a mild "no..." and flicks his tongue over you, gently panting. You moan and automatically bring your hand back - a phenomenal pain electrifies your core up to your chest when he spanks your clit. Don't means don't. He smiles at you while lapping to soothe it, putting some pressure on your entrance, rubbing it, while you grip your thighs in want.

"Get down here", he says, sliding his hands to your waist.

Tipping over in his lap with a yelp, you welcome feeling his body against yours for a moment before he gets you on your back.

Spreading his thighs wide, he steers his cock down and pushes it into you. Knowing you're definitely ready, he sets a quick pace from the get, hooking his hands at the top of your legs, pulsating firmly. Paying special attention to his shaft he makes sure it meets your body with each thrust, squeezing his balls on your ass. The entrance stimulation - smacking and stretching - releases more juice, leading to wetter claps.

He lets you pull him down, but keeps pounding like before, supporting himself on his knees, grunting when you dig your nails in his ass - separating them gives his sensitive hole a tickle.

He breathes wetly next to you, lying down, rocking your body as well as he begins billowing his hips, lifting you up by your ass to get - and give - a deeper hit. The smell of his perfume long gone, only the scent of his slept in skin remains, mixing with notes of freshly cut grass as your moving's broken it to release its scent.

"Mhh", he grunts in your neck. "I love you…".

Raising his head, the muscles on his back grow even stiffer, protruding above his spine. Barely finishing your kiss, he whispers "I love you" in your mouth, his wet lips caressing yours before a wail rings in your head. Dropping his head he stutters, his breath hitching as he swings his hips back-and-forth erratically, fucking his cum into you.

"Uh...ah...mmmm…", he moans, pressing deeply.

His breath is hot on your collarbone, his stomach pushing down on yours as he pants and swallows hard.

"Marry me."

"Marr…", you stutter, breathing heavily, then laugh, seeing as how you already are. "What if I say no..?"

"Nah-ah, marry me...", he says again, peppering tickling kisses on your neck.

You cry out and try to get away, to no avail.

"Okay, okay! On one condition."

"What?", he asks, looking at you.

"Finish what you started…"

A sly smile spreads across his face then he showers you with kisses again.

"You're gonna marry me so many times over..."

[slytherinspired]

Firsts - A Sirius Black Imagine

Pairings : Young Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings : smut, obviously, unprotected sex, swearing, smoking, alcohol and mild drug use.

Hi love! I did it! Beware, it is quite long, I sort of took the liberty to provide some context, but I hope you'll like it! :)

Masterlist

Sirius is looking back at himself in the mirror, wincing at his reflection. He recognizes his traits sparingly; his dark curls falling to his shoulders, his mocking smirk, his overall nonchalant expression. He knows who he is, but the clothes on his back are completely robbing him of his own identity. He glances bitterly at his beloved leather coat sitting on the back of his desk chair and sighs. The ridiculous black suit he’s wearing barely fits him. He knows it probably used to belong to one of his distant cousins and that it has been quickly and grossly recut to fit him by the house-elf. His parents are downstairs in the drawing room, waiting for him to join them so they can leave for this stupid reception. 

He doesn’t even know what it is about, except that he’s going to this apparent important new Ministry guy’s house who threw a sort of lame introduction party, since he just arrived in London with his family. And what he knows is that he’s going to spend the whole night with the type of people he doesn’t want to be assimilated with. From what he heard, the host of the reception just arrived at the Ministry of Magic to help with the passing of some bill for Muggleborn regulations, as awful as it sounds. He’d like to avoid to go, but Walburga has the upper hand on him, and nothing in the world would convince his dear mother to leave her eldest son behind, knowing full well that if she does so, Sirius is going to get the fuck out of there and join these Muggles mingling Potters fools. 

‘You look dapper,’ says a soft voice behind him.

Standing in the doorway, Sirius’ youngest brother observes him, grinning.

‘Shut up,’ he replies, annoyed by the stupid smile on Regulus’ face. 

His brother crosses his arms and steps into his bedroom. He looks around like he just stepped into some kind of freak show. His gaze rests a little longer on a certain poster. Sirius glances at the Muggle woman dressed in a revealing red swimsuit standing straight in the middle of the picture. He smirks, and caught-red handed, Regulus turns away quickly. She always was his brother's favourite, after all. Whether he wants to admit it or not.

‘Are you going to behave this time?’ he asks, stepping in front of his eldest brother.

Sirius shrugs, trying to adjust the bowtie strangling him. For Merlin’s sake, he thinks, it feels like he’s suffocating already. 

‘I always behave, brother dear,’ he replies, trying to undo the knot around his neck. ‘I just don’t behave the way they’d like me to,' referring to their parents.

Regulus shakes his head and starts fiddling with his brother’s bowtie and adjust it perfectly in one fell swoop, as if it were child’s play. Once the knot is properly buckled, he taps Sirius’ chest in an encouraging gesture, and frowns when he feels something hard hidden in the inside pocket of his brother’s vest. 

‘Really?’ he asks. 

Sirius snorts.

‘Just a bit of courage,’ he admits.

‘And how much courage did you drink already?’ 

‘Not enough, apparently,’ Sirius replies, thinking about the full flask of warm whiskey tucked inside his suit. 

He’d honestly rather be stuck in detention with Snivellus for the rest of his existence then go to this lame-ass party. That alone justifies the whiskey amply.

After a few detours in the city, he finds himself in front of an imposing white manor situated in one of London’s richest Square. Oh, this is going to be a long night, he thinks. Not only it seems like the host is wizard-rich, but he’s also everything rich, period. He rolls his eyes, there’s no issue. Walburga is pressing her long and emaciated fingers into his son’s arm as they step into the great hall of the house. The interior is as posh as the exterior, with its grand marble staircase curving up to the upper floor and its giant diamond-like chandelier hanging over their heads. For God’s sake, is it a live classical assemble he hears playing in the back? As his mother pushes him further inside, the sound of light chatter reaches his ears. He sees his father, dressed in his horrible robes, already on his way to speak with some old acquaintances, quickly followed by Regulus. He scans the principal room for a quiet corner, but it’s filled with this bunch of pricks, and he’s fighting with all his might the panic that is taking over his mind. He finally spots a free corner next to a big window and he walks straight ahead in that direction, hoping no one will recognize him on the way. 

‘I heard his son has found some work as a doctor,’ he hears a shrill voice say. 

‘A Muggle doctor? How peculiar!’ says another voice.

This is exactly the kind of chatter Sirius doesn’t want to hear. In no way he thinks he’s superior because he was graced with magic powers at birth. It is so suffocating, and he feels so incredibly small and inadequate, drowning in this sea of close-minded guests. 

He studies them, recognizes some familiar faces from Hogwarts, but most of them are Slytherins and are not close at all to use them as an escape. A waiter walks in front of him, holding a tray where champagne flutes fill themselves up. He grabs one and drink it in one sip. He’s already quite tipsy, but he doesn’t care. He’d rather be intoxicated right now to bury this hatred deep within. God, he needs air. 

He sees Walburga looking for him in the room, and she’s walking next to a tall and handsome man. For Godric’s sake, why is she walking straight in his direction? The man next to her doesn’t look as old as his mother, but the grey strands in his black hair betrays his age. He looks posh, and haughty. 

‘This is my eldest son, Sirius,’ says his mother in a toneless voice. ‘Sirius, this his our host, Mr Santorini.’

‘Pleased to meet your, Mr Black,’ says the man while he extends his hand. 

Sirius gets up on his feet, subtly struggling to find his balance, under the duo’s concerned stare. He rapidly and weakly shakes the man’s hand and nods. Ashamed, Walburga shoots darts at her son and quickly turns away from him.

‘My youngest, Regulus, is doing quite well at Hogwarts, see, he’s - ...’ her voice fades away.  

Sirius closes his eyes; he needs to find some distraction. And what could be better than the little thing he has brought to the party that is currently hidden in his pocket behind the whiskey flask? He needs to feel something else than the dreadful thoughts he has right now. He struts to the giant marble staircase and finds his way on the upper level without attracting attention to him. That is one advantage when no one cares about you; not being seen. The voices downstairs are slowly fading away and he feels already so much better.

He runs a nervous hand in his dark locks, feeling quite hot, with this bowtie strangling him. There must be a door leading outside. He tries to open the first one on his right, but the handle doesn’t bulge; it’s locked. And Walburga has confiscated his wand at the beginning of the summer upon his return from Hogwarts, so there’s no use. He sighs and adventures further away in the hall.

He has more luck with the second door, and finds himself into a deserted bedroom. His eyes make out the giant bed over the central wall of the room, and spots some sealed boxes on the floor. The translucent curtains discreetly veil the large windows in front of him, and he opens one widely and lights himself a cigarette without a care, pacing into the room nervously. He sees some pictures resting on a vintage dresser on the opposite wall. There are rows of books in the built-in bookcases, and even some disperse vinyls taking up some of the space.  He’s clearly trespassing someone’s intimacy, but whose? Sirius walks to the dresser and opens up the first drawer. A tickling feeling in his stomach at the sight of the several underwear – even in the darkness – makes him wonder how long has it been since he’s been intimate with someone. The last time was before school ended, with Mallory, and it was just snogging. He never went all the way... He chuckles discreetly at the thought and taps the ashes of his cigarette on the floor. Fuck this house, fuck this bedroom, and fuck this posh Pureblood family. 

‘Mm, mm.’

Someone has cleared their throat behind him. He jumps, and tries to hide the cigarette away. 

‘Please, don’t stop for me,’ says a girl in the doorway. 

He can’t make up her traits in the darkness, but she sounds young. She steps right in front of him.

‘I don’t think you should be up here,’ she says.

He feels like a child, caught red-handed. He feels suddenly very trapped. 

‘I heard the owner of this house is quite severe,’ she adds, taking the cigarette away from him, inhaling the smoke into her lungs, and exhaling. ‘If he found us in his daughter’s room, I think he’d torture us without any remorse.’

‘His daughter’s room?’ he replies nervously.

She nods, giving him back his cigarette.

‘A real pest.’

There is an awkward silence. 

‘What were you doing here?’ she adds. 

‘Looking for a way out,’ he replies in all honesty. ‘What about you?’

‘Just about the same.’ She glances at the cigarette. ‘You might want to put it out now.’

‘I really don’t,’ he replies, taking one last whiff, ‘but when do I get what I want anyway?’

He throws it on the hard-wood floor indifferently and follows the stranger in the hallway. She turns around to take a good look at him.

‘I’m Y/N, by the way – ‘ 

He feels like his legs are going to flinch. He doesn’t know if it’s the sudden nicotine rush, or the champagne mixed with the whiskey, or the lights in the hallway shinning over Y/N’s green doe eyes staring at him, or her long black hair waving on her back, or her delicious pink lips, or the gentle freckles on her nose, but he’s suddenly feeling quite light-headed.

‘You okay there?’ she laughs. ‘What’s your name?’

He shakes his head, trying to regain his thoughts. 

‘I’m, er. I’m Si – ‘should he really tell her his real name? ‘I’m Sid.’

‘Sid,’ she repeats. ‘Well, Sid, you don’t look too good.’

‘I don’t feel too good,’ he admits. 

Her expression changes. She’s not amused anymore. She’s pitying him. 

‘Follow me,’ she says, grabbing his hand like she has known him forever, dragging him to the end of the wall where they cross a door and end up on a small balcony overlooking the deserted garden. 

‘How to you know this place?’ he asks, resting his arms on the guardrail, humming the fresh crisp air. 

‘Hung out with the pest earlier,’ she replies.

‘Not anymore?’

‘Told you, she’s a pest. I can’t leave, though. I’m sort of stuck here.’

‘So am I.’

She laughs lightly. The moonlight shines on her beautiful face, and her traits are so soft, and if he was much more like himself, he’d try to charm her the way he knows how. 

‘So, Sid. What are we avoiding?’ she asks away. 

‘My parents, I guess,’ he replies, taking out the flask of whiskey of his pocket.

He takes a big sip and hands it to her. She considers it for a moment and grabs it. The wind flies through her hair, and her perfume reaches his nostrils, a perfectly well-balanced mix of vanilla and gentle notes of citrus. The fragrance shoots up his nose and wafts around his brain. Fuck, she’s so beautiful.

‘What about them?’ she asks away, wincing when she swallows the liquor. 

He snorts. He doesn’t want to talk about his parents right now. Not when the prettiest girl he’s ever seen is standing right in front of him. He has something else on his mind now. 

‘Your accent,’ he says, switching subjects. ‘It’s not from here.’

Y/N nods. 

‘I grew up all over the place, but mostly America.’

‘You don’t sound American.’

She smiles, revealing a straight row of perfectly pearly white teeth. 

‘My family, we’re from Sicily.’

He nods.

‘It’s in Italy – ‘

‘I know where Sicily is, I’m not stupid,’ he replies harshly, a bit offended.  

But Y/N chuckles lightly, and her soft laugh brings his attitude down. He can’t help but stare at her. She’s a bit overdressed to his taste, but hey, so is he. He wonders what is hiding underneath that navy dress of hers, and if her skin is as soft as he imagines it is. He needs to calm down. 

‘First time in London, then?’

She nods. 

‘What do you think?’ he asks, locking eyes with her.

She licks her lower lip without realizing it.

‘Well, I don’t hate the accent,’ she teases. 

Praised be Godric. 

‘Tell me, Sid, you seem to be about my age, yet you’re drunk like an old man with a drinking problem, and you probably smoke like a city boy. I keep wondering if I really should be alone with you right now.’

‘Are you afraid?’ he asks.

She shakes her head.

‘Rarely.’

‘To be honest, Y/N,’ he says, pronouncing every syllable of her name like he could actually taste it, ‘I was alone up there to find a quiet spot for this.’

He shows up the joint between his fingers. She squints for a short moment and smiles.

‘I see.’

Y/N’s eyes bored into him. He wonders if he has crossed a line. He barely knows her, after all.  

‘Let’s go somewhere more private, then,’ she suggests, grabbing his hand. He doesn’t even have the time to appreciate the softness of her skin when he feels himself disapparating, his body swirling in every direction, and a sudden urge of panic takes hold off him. When he reapparates in a loud pop, he shouts:

‘What the hell are you doing? Are you bloody insane?’

‘What, did you never apparate before?’

‘Yes, I did but -,’ he is freaking out, Walburga must think he’s left and is probably fulminating. ‘My mother, she’s going to hex me! Bring us back!’

‘Why?’ Eliana asks, intrigued. ‘How would she know?’

Sirius shakes his head nervously. 

‘She placed some sort of charm on me, I’m not allowed to leave her sight. If she knows I left the premises, she’ll find me and – ‘ 

He stops himself from saying too much. Perhaps it would be a bit intense to share with the girl what would Walburga do to him. At least, he wouldn’t have to explain the healing bruises on his ribcage.

‘Relax, Sid. We’re still on the premises.’

He looks around and spots the house in the distance through a small window. Are they in some sort of guest house? A garden shed? There is nothing around him, he’s just standing on a mat. Relieved, he sits down, running a hand in his hair. Y/N joins him and creates a small fire by flicking her wand, enough to dimly light the room they are in. 

‘You’re actually scared of your parents. Why?’

Sirius chuckles. He’s not scared, he’s terrified of them. She points out the little stick he forgot he was holding between his fingers. 

‘Shall we?’ she suggests.

‘Who says I want to share?’

She pouts adorably. He lights it up and he takes a good breath of the substance and exhales slowly, indulging the heavy smoke, his lungs burning, and a light sensation rushes to his head. Them Muggles can also do magic, he thinks to himself. Under her curious eyes, he passes the stick in her delicate hands, and observes her. Her delicious lips reach it, and she slowly breathes it in. She starts coughing, tears running to her eyes.

‘Wait,’ he laughs, ‘is this your first time?’ 

She presses her hand to her rounded chest, laughing uncontrollably. Sirius shakes his head, following her laugh, and explains to her how to actually get the smoke to her lungs. 

‘There, yes – keep it still a second, let it -, yes, good,’ it’s like teaching children how to mount a broom, ‘and exhale. Brilliant.’

He waits a second before taking another whiff. Y/N’s mouth curves into a smile and she closes her eyes slowly. 

‘Oh,’ she exhales, ‘this is – ‘

‘I know,’ replies Sirius, smiling. ‘I know.’

‘Oh,’ she repeats. 

He stares at her, admiring her delicate features. Her eyes are still closed and he sees her falling on her back, completely relaxed. If his mother saw him right now, smoking pot with a random girl he met at this rich guy’s party, she’d have a good reason to use the Cruciatus curse on him for once. Or she’d cut his head before he could say he’s sorry. He decides to join Y/N and rests his back on the floor. He lays his head just beside hers and fixes the ceiling. He feels better now, and it’s not just the drugs. 

‘I feel so heavy,’ she says, sliding her hands on her naked arms. 

She turns her head and looks at him. 

‘Do you feel heavy?’

‘Kind of,’ he laughs. 

He doesn’t particularly feel heavy. In fact, he feels relieved, and mostly, he feels horny. Good god.  

‘What is there to do in London at night?’ she asks.

‘Mm,’ he hesitates. ‘Pubs, clubs, walking around Southbank, I guess.’

‘Never went to a pub,’ she admits.

He wants to run his finger on her cheek. He wants to grab her face and press his lips on hers.

‘You’re kidding,’ he replies, still fixing that beautiful mouth of hers. 

She shakes her head lightly, and a stroke of her long hair falls in her eyes. Her little red stained eyes. He smiles at the view, and slowly leans closer, replacing the stroke of black hair behind her ear. 

‘I’ll bring you to a pub, one day,’ he mutters, daydreaming out loud. 

‘Wouldn’t you mother kill you if you did?’ she jokes. 

‘She would. It would be worth the risk, though.’

She turns on her stomach and rests her head on her hands. He keeps staring at her, detailing everything. 

‘What are you looking at?’ she chuckles.

‘Just admiring the view,’ he replies frankly.  

She would blush if she wasn’t all flustered already. There’s an odd adrenaline spluttering inside of him as he feels her close, and his pulse quickens and he’s feeling so hot right now, he’s melting into the rug. There’s a comfortable silence between them, and they both enjoy it for a couple of minutes. There is something about this girl, this nonchalant attitude, and her mesmerizing eyes, and her accent, and the way her body moves when she finally sits down again, pulling her dress over her thighs to sit comfortably, making him lose his fucking mind. If he weren’t so distracted by her presence, he’d be sweet talking to her, like he’s so used to do with other girls. But he’s simply incapable of doing so, like she’s robbed him of his means. 

‘We should go back, they’re going to be looking for us,’ she whispers, showing him her hand to help him sit back. 

But he doesn’t want to go back and mingle with the people he hates. He wants to be alone with her, if it is just to stay motionless on this rug in her company. He takes her hand and sits back up, and their eyes lock again, and they stare at each other, and he’s wondering if he’s hallucinating someone so perfect to help him cope with this emptiness he feels all the time. She absentmindedly licks her lips, taunting him, and he has to remind himself how to breathe, as his lips quirk hesitantly, sighing out loud to stop himself from pining her underneath him. 

‘Yeah,’ he stutters, like a fucking coward, and then he clears his throat and steadies his pulse and sternly instructs himself to get it together, dude. James would be laughing at him if he saw him right now. 

But they both stay there, motionless. He can feel the drugs running away from his bloodstream, he’s on another high now, another rush, and it has nothing to do with it. He can’t stop staring at her lips. Her expression washes over him in waves, and he pins a hesitant smile on his face, hoping it will distract her from the bulge growing down there.

‘Or we could just, you know, stay here for a while,’ she suggests.

For fuck’s sake. 

He’s only able to gulp and nod, his cock painfully growing thick through the fabric. He tries to hide the bump by placing his arm over his legs, but instead it catches her attention down there, and her eyes quickly spots it, but she innocently acts like she’s unaware of the effect she has on him. If he could only smack his lips on hers. 

Her emerald eyes are wide open, she leans in and presses her soft lips on his, and he’s never felt so relieved in his entire life, her mouth is warm and soft, and he can actually run his hands in her soft hair, and he can hear his heart hammering in his ears, and she actually lets out a discreet moan in his mouth, and fuck, there he is, gone, he knows there is no way back from there. 

He feels her hands slowly unbuckling his belt and removing those atrocious trousers, and he follows through, pulling up her dress to reveal her skin. He removes his shirt, he has dreamt all night to rip it off his body from the second he put it on, and now she’s pushing him on his back on the hard rug and places kisses in the crook of his neck, sliding her tongue all the way down, and he knows where she’s heading, but he can’t let her do that, or he’s going to cum already. He grabs her head softly, and while he’s busy sticking his tongue into her mouth, he’s unclasps her top, tosses it on the floor, and starts licking her round breasts, circling her hard nipples with his tongue. He realizes it is actually the first time he’s allowed to touch naked breasts, and Merlin, this is so much better when there’s no fabric covering them. 

He pins her small body under him, and he slowly moves down on her. He admires her ribcage moving up and down, and he can hears her heavy breathing, and he feels like he can’t hold it anymore. He runs his lips on her skin, down her stomach, to the birth of her underwear, pulling them down very gently. Sirius can’t believe he just met her a couple of hours ago; he feels like he has been desiring her for an eternity. There was a before her, and there’s now – and all the shit he’s been dealing with since school ended is now tucked away in the back of his mind. He caresses with his lips the soft bump between her legs, indulging the new sensation, and then just takes a mouthful of her sex. Her breathing stops, her ribcage is suspended for a second, and then she breathes out and grabs the back of his head while he tastes her. It’s sweet, and warm, and wet, and salty at the same time, and it’s so fucking good.

She’s squirming and writhing beneath him, her subtle moans amplifying. The gasps she makes sends sparks of unbearable pleasure through him, and he feels dizzy, like his heart is about to explode, ready to jump out of his chest at any moment. He slides one finger into her, and then another, and she spams around his fingers. He observes her perfect body tensing at his touch, cupping one breast with one hand while she orgasms into his mouth, her fluids mixing with his saliva. Her face is flushed and her pupils are dilated, and he could very well be on this high for the rest of his existence. But she places kisses on his lips, tasting herself on him, and his cock is so hard, he can’t help but groan when he feels her hand grabs his sex through the fabric of his underwear, slowly stroking him. It is pure torture.

He feels the small piece of clothing covering him sliding down his legs, and he kicks it on the floor. She stares at him in the eyes and licks her fingers, then moves her hand down there again, gently applying pressure on his hard-on. Sirius’ head tilt to the back, blood rushes through him. That is a different story when it’s someone’s else hand, isn’t? 

She lays down in front of him, and he follows her as she guides is cock at the entrance of her sex, and it’s so wet, how is he going to pull through? He’s shaking with apprehension but pure pleasure. She suddenly frowns.

‘Wait,’ she hesitates, ‘is this your first time?’

He nods. There’s so point in lying. 

‘Do you want to stop?’

Of course, he doesn’t want to stop. He shakes his head, and her face lits up. 

They kiss and he presses the tip of his cock into her, slowly, to get every sensation right, and he closes his eyes and, oh this feels so fucking good, and he can’t help but exhales of relief when he feels the warmth, and he hears her gasping underneath him. He’s sinking into her, and she pushes his length even farther by raising her hips. Why does it feel so good? He starts to pace inside her, like he has known what to do forever, increasing the tempo, and she moans under him. He moves swiftly now, trying with all his might to not just release himself off the pressure. She throws her head back into the rug, he feels sweat pearling at the birth of his forehead, his locks fall into his eyes, and he accelerates his pace and presses her legs on her stomach, and oh my god, this is even better. 

She presses her right hand on his chest, running her fingers over his hard stomach, avoiding the bruises, detailing each parcel of his body. She looks back up and pushes her lips on his, and their tongues meet, and he’s completely melting into her. She finally bucks her hips tightly and Sirius hisses, he can’t hold up anymore. Oh, he wants to hear her say his name – if only he had given his real one – but she lets a loud ‘fuck’ escape her mouth, and she’s damp with sweat, and he never seen something so beautiful, he slams into her harder and faster, he groans while his grip tightens around her delicate waist. He feels almost he’s in pain and something stronger than life itself is burning him; yes, he’s burning up down there, he can’t hold it anymore, his whole body is on fire, he glances at her one last time, and he lets out a guttural growl, while feeling his insides pushing his soul out, and for a short moment, he thinks he’s dying, spilling his warm seed into her, filling her up while’s he petrified, hanging between dream and reality, thinking his heart stopped beating. 

It is only half an hour later that he comes back to the manor, flustered and feeling out of his body, followed by Y/N. She’s even prettier under the warm lights, blushed cheeks, and he relives in his mind what just happened over and over again. That wasn’t bad for a first time, he thinks. 

‘Y/N! Papà has been looking for you forever, where were you?’, a young girl is staring at her. 

She shares similar traits with Y/N, but she looks younger, about Regulus’ age. Her arms are crossed, and she observes Sirius oddly, in a manner that makes him believe she can easily guess what Y/N was doing all the time they’ve been away. 

‘Where is he?’ asks Y/N. 

The young girl points at the host, the man he shook hands with earlier, speaking with Sirius’ father and a couple of older men in the corner of the room. 

‘Clara,’ mumbles Y/N with a threatening expression. ‘non dire niente a Papà.’

The young girl rolls her eyes and leaves them. Sirius frowns. Wait a minute, is this girl... 

‘Didn’t you tell me the host’s daughter was -’ he mumbles, feeling his hands becoming moist.

‘A pest,’ she smiles. ‘My sister.’ 

[slashbitch2]

Prove Me Wrong, Darling

who doesn't love a bit of enemies to lovers? :)

You and Agatha had never gotten along. From your perspective, it was due to a conflict of interest. Whereas if you asked her, she'd likely say it was a conflict of intelligence, or something else insulting along those lines. Though the issue you had with the fellow witch wasn't her attitude, rather her underestimation of your powers. It'd started with her massacre of the Coven, when she'd attempted to end your life alongside the others. But to her surprise, you'd been strong enough to defend yourself and escape. Since then, there'd been several instances where your paths had crossed, and you hadn't let her live down the failure yet.

This particular occasion was different, however, as Agatha had asked you for help.

It'd taken everything in you not to immediately mock her. But you knew that she'd leave without further explanation if she felt ridiculed, and you were just dying to know what had made her stoop to your level. So, you'd swallowed your pride and attentively listened to her proposal. It'd mostly featured the repeated phrases "immense power" and "huge source of energy," and even a confession that she was baffled by the cause, which only intrigued you further.

Although you weren't too interested in accumulating anymore power, the opportunity to be on level ground with Agatha was too good to pass on. You confessed this to her upon accepting the invitation, which resulted in an unimpressed eye roll. Regardless of her annoyance, you left that same day, arriving in the least expected location. A quaint town in New Jersey.

"Well," You landed behind Agatha in the middle of a road, surveying the picturesque, colourless neighbourhood. "isn't this lovely."

She pursed her lips, looking round similarly perplexed. "Lovely?" She echoed. "This is like every outdated suburban stereotype rolled into one. Like some kind of picture-perfect movie set."

Her condescending comment jogged a memory. "That's what I was thinking of!" You exclaimed, clapping your hands enthusiastically. "Did you ever watch that sitcom- from the 50s? The Dick Van Dyke Show?"

"From the title alone I'm glad I didn't."

"Seriously, it's practically the same setting." You moved to stand directly in front, forcing her to look at you.

"So, what you're saying is someone used this insane amount of power just to recreate their favourite TV show?" She quirked an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your theory.

"Well, wouldn't you?"

"No."

"Anyway." You glanced down at the rather eye-catching ensemble Agatha was currently wearing, then at your comparably casual yet modern clothes. "This isn't going to work." With a wave of your hand, the jeans and jumper combo was replaced by a more period accurate pencil skirt and blouse. Satisfied, you looked up at her expectantly.

Taking it as a challenge, she copied the gesture, managing to both create a new dress and fix up her hair. She smirked, enjoying the chance to show off her superior abilities.

"It's not a competition." You huffed.

She placed a hand on your arm fake comfortingly. "Of course not, dear."

The contact caused you to shiver slightly. It felt as though her touch ignited sparks, though the sensation wasn't exactly unpleasant. Quite the opposite, in fact. But indulging in it didn't feel right either, so you were grateful when Agatha removed her hand.

Her face dropped, eyebrows furrowing. Slowly, she swivelled round to point at a house. "There. Can you feel it?"

Following her outstretched finger, you tuned into the energy, focusing specifically on the house. "Mhm." Unsurprisingly, Agatha was right. An unfamiliar energy was being emitted from whoever was inside. You tried to pinpoint what kind of magic the user possessed, but found no trace of any familiar type. "Shall we go meet the neighbours, then?"

"You read my mind." She muttered, narrowing her eyes and offering an arm without so much as sparing a glance in your direction.

You hesitated, taken aback by the kind gesture. It hadn't dawned on you until then that an incredibly powerful being was residing little over 10 metres away, and that you were both about to willingly walk into their house. Looping your arm with hers created a naïve sense of safety.

Neither spoke as you approached the house with faux confidence, only pausing for Agatha to summon a potted plant. A house warming gift, you guessed. The simple gesture of goodwill brought a smile to your face.

"I didn't expect you to be such a considerate neighbour." You whispered.

"Gotta make a good first impression." She reached out to knock against the door.

---

You sighed. Barely an hour spent in this black and white world and you were already bored. Everything was so tiresomely perfect, so normal that you questioned how you'd ever suffered through those terrible old sitcoms in the first place. Sitting in Wanda's living room, the only entertainment was your partner in crime Agatha, or Agnes, as you ought to say.

She was currently flipping through a magazine, tracing the page with her index finger and reading aloud to help Wanda prepare for her anniversary.

"Any notable date you can remember? Special occasion?" She asked the redhead. "You know, to remind him of good times." She winked suggestively, briefly glancing at you with an expression that only you could decipher. She was enjoying flustering Wanda a little too much.

"Oh...I don't know." She trailed off, untrustworthy eyes darting around the room. "Do you two have any memorable date? Maybe I could steal some ideas."

Had the sitcom spell effected you, this would've been the ironic moment in which you spat out whatever drink was currently in your mouth. Fortunately though, you'd declined the offer of tea earlier, and opened your mouth to correct her.

Agatha beat you to it by nudging you with her elbow. "Oh don't we just?" She laughed deeply until you joined in with a forced chuckle.

Deciding to join in with her game, you hummed thoughtfully. "What about that picnic we had? In Salem, remember?" Judging by the way her eyes flashed dangerously, she knew you were referring to that dreadful night with the Coven, serving as revenge for the sudden change in relationship status. "Agnes decided the best time to go on a date would be at night- and in the middle of forest of all places!"

Agnes threw back her head in exaggerated laughter. "Oh hush! I thought it'd be romantic. Besides, you're the one who got us completely lost, dear." She continued, further adding depth to the altered anecdote. "And I'd say it went pretty well regardless." She turned to whisper conspiratorially to Wanda. "So I'll spare you the dirty details."

The three of you fell into easy laughter, only interrupted by the shrill ring of the telephone. "If you'll excuse me." Wanda stood up to answer. "That's probably Vis."

You took the distraction as respite from forcing such an overly hospitable smile, finding that your cheeks were already aching. For the last few minutes, you'd been aware of a pair of eyes watching you closely, and finally turned to face the witch sitting next to you.

"What?"

Agatha said nothing, her invasive eyes never leaving yours as she took a sip of her drink. You could practically see the gears turning in her head as she thought something through, and dreaded to wonder what she was about to say.

Reaching some form of a conclusion, she leant forward to place her drink down on the table. "Kiss me." She murmured through clenched teeth, momentarily glancing at Wanda, who's back was turned.

"Excuse me?" Out of all the possible things she could've said, this request seemed the least plausible in your mind.

"When Wanda turns round she should see us-" Agatha gestured her hand back and forth as if vocalising what she was implying was too sinful to put into words. Her vagueness was met by your blank stare. "Y'know?"

"No?" You shook your head, unable to comprehend why she'd ask such a thing, untrusting your interpretation of her suggestion.

"Just-" Agatha raised her hands to grasp your face. Hesitated. Then threw them back down into her lap and sighed in frustration. The fact she was struggling to initiate contact was laughable, though eventually you took pity on her.

Leaning forward, you kept your eyes open to watch for Agatha's reaction. You found it amusing that upon realising what you were trying to do, her eyes shut impossibly fast. Satisfied that she was consenting, you raised one hand to cup her cheek and continued to chase after her lips. The kiss was chaste and affectionately mundane, exactly at it should be.

In response, she grabbed your knees and pulled you closer, nipping at your bottom lip. Clearly Agatha wasn't on the same wavelength as you. Her hands shifted further up to your thighs, bringing a startling heat to the kiss. You gasped, virtually melting at her touch. You wanted this. One hand slid to rest on her shoulder. But it wasn't the time or place. You gently pushed against her.

Agatha pulled away, breathless. She scanned your face with pupils blown wide and mouth slightly agape like she'd just reached some new revelation. You were certain your expression mirrored hers.

Wanda cleared her throat somewhere in the distance.

"Gosh, Wanda I'm sorry." Agnes' cheerful voice reappeared as she addressed the redhead without breaking your intense shared eye contact. "But I think we ought to be heading home now." She said unabashedly. Like you hadn't just been caught making out on the neighbour's couch.

"Of course." You could hear the understanding smile in her voice, the slight awkwardness from intruding. "It's been lovely meeting you both."

Summoning an ounce of brainpower, you turned to Wanda. "And you. Feel free to keep the magazine." Then tugged Agatha up and began dragging her toward the front door. For once in her life she went willingly, allowing herself to be pulled along, calling out a last minute farewell to Wanda.

Upon reaching the end of the garden, Agatha wordlessly took the lead. Staying true to her fabricated story, she set a determined course for the house to the right, waltzing up as if she owned the place. A quick flourish of your fingers and the lock was rendered useless. Now the house was yours.

As soon as the door shut behind you, she turned on her heel and pushed you against it. Her mouth quickly sought out yours with a desperation only appropriate in private. Had you known Agatha was this good of a kisser, you would've done this ages ago, but elected not to vocalise the praise knowing she'd never let you live it down. You felt her smirk against your lips, and briefly wondered if she'd somehow infiltrated your mind. You wouldn't put it past her.

As she began trailing kisses down your neck, any concern about the invasion of privacy became inconsequential. You sighed. She rewarded the sound with a nip at your throat. Due to the haze of lust clouding your better judgment, you didn't register the sound of footsteps until it was too late.

"Woah!" A man called from the top of the staircase, presumably the current previous resident of the house. Agatha froze, her lips still pressed up to your neck.

"If you two beautiful ladies hadn't already broken into my house, I would've happily invited you in." The man grinned obnoxiously, slowly continuing down the stairs.

Agatha disinterestedly waved her hand, incapacitating him. The sound of the stranger tumbling down the stairs caused her to let out a short, cruel cackle, before returning to bury her face in the crook of your neck.

"Not big on roommates?" You joked, sliding a hand up and down her back soothingly.

She nipped at your flesh, a little harder this time. "Trust me, he doesn't want to be here for what I'm about to do to you."

Already impatient, you decided to tease her in hopes it would speed things up. "You're all talk and no action, Harkness."

She all but growled as she returned to your lips. Without warning her hands squeezed your hips. "I don't think you're in the position to be insulting me, love."

"Then prove me wrong, darling."

[aomine-ryo]

Kind of late, but I had an idea for a fic that’s been in my drafts for a while and I wanted to post it for Kise’s birthday but it wasn’t quite done yet. But it is now, so here it is, hope you like it!

Scenario: New kid, Kise Ryouta ends up falling for the reader

gender neutral reader

It’s not particularly easy being the new kid at school. Especially if you were Kise Ryouta. Being a well known athlete and model, it was difficult for him to be able to find friends in a new place that didn’t have ulterior motives. However, Kise learned to deal with it. He was cold to people until he himself learned to respect them and understand their motives.

But the problem with him was not in the friendship category, but rather the romance one.

Kise had a tendency to fall for the first person that was nice to him in a new place, and that almost always ended in the other person using him. So this time, he promised himself that he was not going to hurt himself yet again.

On his first day, Kise stood at the front of the class and introduced himself. “Um, hi, nice to meet you, I’m Kise Ryouta. I look forward to getting to know you all and well, I don’t really know what else to say,” he said, turning to the teacher for some help. The class filled with a small chatter once he stopped talking, and he could already faintly hear comments about how ‘cute’ he looks.

“It’s alright Kise. You can take that empty seat next to Y/N over there,” the teacher said, pointing.

Your head snapped back to the front of the class from gazing out the window at the sound of your name. Of course the new kid got stuck in the seat next to you. He was cute, you couldn’t disagree. However, that only meant that everyone else was going to be swarming around your desk for a while.

The teacher went on with the regular announcements until the bell for first period rang. “Oh right, before I forget, Y/N, can I trust you to show Kise around the school during your break?” she added.

You held back a sigh as you nodded. “Sure,” you replied curtly, glancing over at Kise and giving him an awkward smile.

As expected, once the teacher left, he was soon surrounded by girls asking him questions that were borderline invasive. How do they do it? How do they simply have the courage to speak to people like that? In a way, you envied them for their confidence, but it was also quite pathetic.

Eventually, the break came around and Kise approached your desk with a polite smile. Why did he get stuck with you out of all people? You were the first one that caught his eye and Kise could already see himself catching feelings for you. But he made a promise to himself and he was going to keep it. He wasn’t going to get played with again.

“Hey, um, Y/N, right?” who was he kidding? He knew your name. It was stuck in his head ever since the teacher instructed him to sit next to you.

“Yeah, just give me a second, I just have to organise this mess and we’ll be on our way,” you said, fumbling with the stationery that was cluttering your desk.

“Oh, you don’t really have to give me that tour if you don’t want to. I don’t want to be a burden— I can probably figure things out myself,” Kise said.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind helping out. If you end up getting lost at some point I’ll feel bad,” you insisted, finally putting the last of your things away and standing up. “Okay, we’re all good. Shall we?”

Kise hesitated for a moment. He really didn’t want to do this, but he didn’t have any more excuses so he simply walked by your side.

You showed him all the classes that he would regularly be attending, adding a few tips that you learned through the years whenever you could. This was the most you’d ever spoken to someone who wasn’t a close friend and yet Kise remained rather silent. Did he think you were boring? Were you talking too much? God, why did you have to be assigned this task?

“Oh right, I almost forgot. Are you joining any clubs?” you asked him as you walked through the halls.

“Yeah, I’ll be joining the basketball club,” Kise nodded.

“Right, I figured,” you mumbled, making Kise let out a small chuckle.

“Hey, you might have made the right judgement this time, but don’t judge a book by its cover,” Kise joked.

“It was more of an intuition thing rather than judging you, I swear,” you replied defensively, holding back a giggle.

“Mhmm I’m sure it was,” he said sarcastically. He hated how bright your smile was. It was so warm and gentle, he could look at it all day. He barely even knew you, but he was already obsessed with your smile. Just his luck.

“Well, unfortunately for you, I’m the manager for the basketball team so you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.”

This had to be some sort of cruel joke. “Really? That’s great. So I could probably just tail behind you and not get lost by the looks of it.”

“Maybe,” you shrugged. You hoped he was joking. The last thing you needed was a bunch of fangirls trailing you around campus. “Let me show you the way to the basketball gym though, just in case I manage to escape you.”

“Escape me? Tired of me already huh?” Kise teased, dramatically pretending to be offended.

“Absolutely,” you joked.

Kise clasped a hand over his heart as though he got shot in the chest. “I am hurt, Y/N. What did I ever do to deserve this?” he recited.

“You know, the drama club is probably also looking for new members— I should show you their club room instead,” you retorted.

“Ha ha very funny,” Kise rolled his eyes. How were you two already joking around like this? He tried not to speak to you much, but it was like his charisma was forced out of him. Maybe he was overthinking it. You seemed nice. Maybe the two of you could be good friends.

And well, that’s pretty much exactly what happened. With the sheer amount of times you two see each other, it was no surprise that you’d become friends. It started with witty banter and random comments but soon, the two of you became close. After about three months, you were hanging out with each other every other day, going out for a bite after practice, going to the movies, walking to school together— the list goes on. And somehow, you never got tired of each other.

“Hey, Y/N-cchi, are you going for the field trip?” Kise asked you in between classes, referring to the yearly trip your school organises to a selected place in the country with a rich history.

“I’ll go if you do. But to be honest, I’d rather stay at home,” you replied.

“Well, we’re going then. It’ll be fun. There’s probably cute places to take pictures for Instagram,” Kise said.

“So I’m basically going to be your photographer?” you sighed.

“Precisely.”

“Sounds like a blast,” you groaned.

“I’m kidding, I will find a way to make this worthwhile. I heard that there’s a nice restaurant near the hotel we’re staying at, so we should pay that a visit,” Kise said.

“I’m exhausted just thinking about it,” you replied, resting your head on your palm.

“Shhh it’ll be fun, trust me,” Kise said, eyes softening up when he noticed how the sunlight that shone through the window landed on you like some sort of natural spotlight. His mind was about to wander off into a daydream when the teacher walked into the classroom, snapping his attention away from you.

The field trip finally rolled around and you found yourself in a fresh hotel room with a gorgeous view of the beach. Unfortunately, you didn’t get assigned to room with Kise, but it was alright since he was just a few doors down. As promised, Kise did his best to make sure you were having fun. You did have to take an awful lot of pictures of him, and sometimes he’d force you to take pictures with him, but Kise was always good company so you didn’t mind too much.

On the last night, Kise took you to that restaurant for dinner. “It’s kind of a fancy restaurant so we should dress up,” Kise informed you that afternoon.

“But that’s so tiring. Let’s just go to McDonalds instead,” you suggested.

“We are not going to McDonalds. I will dress you up myself if I have to,” Kise said firmly.

So in the end, you did end up dressing up, but you didn’t pack any nice shoes so you had to go with your sneakers. Of course, Kise patronised you for it, but you just replied with the wittiest comment you could think of, like always.

“Hi, I made a reservation here, for Kise Ryouta,” Kise said to the hostess.

The place was nicer than you expected it to be. It was a strange feeling being here with a reservation. It felt less like a hang out with your friend and more like a date. And for some reason, you were now nervous.

“Ah yes, right this way Mr Kise,” she said with a polite smile as she led you two to your table. “A window seat, just as you requested.”

“Perfect, thank you,” Kise said, glancing at the view of the night sky and the twinkling city lights below.

“Here are your menus, a waiter will be with you shortly. Enjoy your date,” she smiled.

“Oh, uh, it’s not a—” you began, but she walked off before you could correct her.

“Well that’s awkward,” Kise chuckled.

You simply sighed in defeat as you took a moment to admire your surroundings. There was a clean white cloth spread across your table with a candle and flowers as a centrepiece. It was a bit too romantic for your comfort, but you tried to shake it off. “Someone went all out for a simple dinner. You even requested a table by the window. How picky can you get?” You said teasingly.

“I just made a reservation in case this place would be busy. You wouldn’t want to wait in line would you?” Kise explained and you shook your head in response. “Exactly. And I got the window seat because I know you like to stare out sometimes. I figured you wouldn’t wanna stare at me all night long, so I got you a better view.”

You felt your stomach turn as your mind’s immediate thought was how Kise was enough of a view on his own. You had to admit, he looked fantastic that night— when he said he was going to dress up, he wasn’t kidding. It was a simple white button up shirt with a red tie, but he still looked dashing. Perhaps it was the fact that he rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, showcasing his toned forearms that pulled the look together. Either way, you didn’t like the fact that you were viewing your friend in such a way.

“Oh my, what is this self deprecation? I thought I was hanging out with model and Generation of Miracles member, Kise Ryouta, not some emo teenager,” you said, your tone resembling Kise’s dramatic one that you’ve heard a thousand times before.

“Well, if you’re not going to appreciate my effort of getting us these seats, I can just ask them to move us away from the window,” Kise huffed.

“No, no,” you tracked back almost immediately. “I like the window. Thank you.”

“That’s what I thought,” Kise grinned triumphantly.

That night was absolutely lovely. But no matter now hard he tried, Kise couldn’t take his eyes off you. As expected, you’d rest your chin on your palm and gaze out the window with a faraway look in your eyes, and Kise could do nothing but admire how beautiful you looked. He couldn’t believe that he knew someone as amazing as you were. Moreover, he couldn’t believe that he told himself that he wouldn’t fall for you. What a dumb decision. But he was already this far in, maybe it was just that fact that he can’t have you that made him want you more. These feelings will pass, right?

As the two of you walked back to the hotel that night, a cool salty breeze flowed through the air. Kise had made you laugh yet again, and his heart filled with joy as the bright smile returned to your face. He could stay in this moment forever.

“I can’t believe this is our last night here,” Kise sighed once you simmered down.

“Yeah, this trip was actually kinda fun. I wish it didn’t end so soon,” you said, gazing up at the bright full moon.

“You think we can squeeze in one final adventure tomorrow morning?” Kise questioned.

“Where to?”

Kise shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“Well then, I’d rather stay in and sleep thank you very much,” you said.

“Are you tired yet?”

“Not really.”

“Then let’s go walk along the beach,” Kise suggested.

“But the sand gets everywhere, it’s so annoying,” you frowned.

“It’s our last night. Come on,” Kise said, grabbing your wrist and dragging you towards the empty beach.

The two of you walked by the water where the sand was firmer so that it less tedious. It was quite peaceful hearing the waves crash against the shore as the water glimmered under the moonlight.

“You know, when I first met you, I really didn’t wanna be your friend,” Kise said out of the blue.

“How rude,” you faked a gasp as you playfully whacked his arm, making him chuckle. “But to be honest, me neither.”

Kise looked at you with a dumbfounded expression. “Seriously, Y/N-cchi? But why?” he whined, seeming much more offended than you were.

“Because you always had people following you around and I didn’t want to be caught up in that,” you explained, kicking a pebble around as you walked.

“Oh,” Kise said, realising he probably shouldn’t have said anything because he couldn’t explain his reason as rationally as you did. “That’s fair, I guess.”

“Why didn’t you wanna be friends with me? Was I annoying?”

“What do you mean, you still are annoying,” Kise joked, earning himself another whack on the arm. “I’m kidding, no you weren’t annoying.”

“Then what was it?”

“Okay, this might sound really stupid, but I told myself that I wouldn’t go after the first person that’s nice to me, because that always ended up with people using me for something or the other,” Kise explained, stopping in his tracks to pick up a smooth pebble.

“That’s fair,” you said, trying not to overthink what he meant by ‘go after’ as you watched him skip the pebble over the waves.

Kise looked out at the horizon, seemingly lost in thought for a moment before turning back to face you. “You know, you caught my eye almost immediately and that was a red flag to me for the longest time, but you actually turned out to be pretty cool.”

It was strange seeing Kise like this. It was like he was possessed. He never speaks in such a serious manner with you. “Well duh, because I’m awesome like that,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

A gentle smile spread across Kise’s face. “I told myself I wouldn’t fall for the first person I had a crush on, but here I am,” Kise let out a heavy sigh, glancing back out at the ocean for a moment.

“Crush? You had a crush on me?” you asked, your stomach doing twists and turns that made you feel as though you were going to throw up all the delicious food you had earlier.

“Yeah,” Kise muttered. What was he saying? Why was he complicating things? “I hate myself for it.”

“Oh. Um, it’s okay,” you said, unsure what to say. He clearly didn’t want to like you, so you didn’t want to bring up how you felt about him. “We can stay friends if you want, nothing has to change.”

Kise looked back at you, finding comfort in the warmth of your eyes. There was no dramatic outburst like he expected. You seemed to be considerate of his feelings. You genuinely did care for him. “I don’t mind staying friends. But is it okay if I do this?”

Before you could think twice about it, Kise had his soft lips pressed against yours. Even though your mind hadn’t fully wrapped itself around the situation, you found yourself kissing him back. Kise felt you melt into his touch as his heart skipped like pebbles on the water. God knows how much Kise had been longing for this moment. To have his arms around your waist, your body pressed against his, and his lips on yours. He could finally get a taste of you and it was better than any meal he could imagine. This just felt right.

After a few moments, Kise pulled back to catch his breath, his mind racing with thoughts that he couldn’t even keep up with. “I’m sorry,” was the only thing he could muster.

“Don’t apologise,” you shook your head, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it tightly. “I am absolutely okay with that.”

A wide smile spread across Kise’s face as his mind slowly began to clear up. Maybe his instincts were right this time. You were perfect to him the moment he laid his eyes on you, even though he tried to deny it. And as you stood in front of Kise with the moonlight glittering in your eyes, you were just as perfect as the day he met you.

[hwrryscherry]

 The one where the reader meets Harry as Jack

characters: HARRYxREADER!FEM

blurb: Harry is filming Don't Worry Darling in Palms Springs while Y/N is moving in in her new house in the neighbourhood where the movie is being filmed. Turns out the fate wanted to cross Harry and Y/N's way as a box full of books is very intriguing to Harry and Pride and Prejudice becomes Harry's new favorite.

word count: 2.7K

author's note: Heyy guys, it has been SO LONG and honestly I don’t think this is best work yet lol but anyway, I had the worst writer’s block of my life so it was so hard for me to write a single word. Honestly, I felt kinda pressured to write. I felt like I was pressuring myself for that so I had to take advantage of this block and take this idea out of my mind. I want to say something important too; I really want to say that the only story of mine that I’ll keep the face claim is HARRYxMODELY/N, just because I like to use the photos to make instagram posts sometimes. I will no longer describe types of hair as I used to say ‘’long strands of hair’’, it will be neutral for you to imagine yourself in the story. It’s all about you guys and how you can visualize the story and the character, if you want to imagine a face claim that’s cool but if you don’t want to it’s cool too. Feel free to read and visualize, it’s all about you. Thank you for the support on my account and my writing. I’m aware that I’m not the best lol, but I also think that I have so much to learn from you just as I have to teach. I’m so grateful for everyone who reads and like my stuff. Never forget that you’re unique, you’re loved, you’re so golden and treat people with kindness always.

   "Why is it so hot in here? It's fucking December!", you'd think to yourself as you drove your new car through the streets of Palm Springs. The thing is that after you moved from Columbia to reside so many years in New York while you were studying English Language and Literature in Yale, you just got so used with the usual colder weather from NY and it's just a different vibe from California. You had such a hard time to decide what you wanted to do after graduating, though. And after a few weeks and some long conversations with your family, you decided you would go to California. Palm Springs, to be more specific. You decided that because you remembered all the times you went there when you were a kid because your grandmother lived in there before she passed. You remember spending your summer vacation with her and how cool it was. It was in the early 2000′s and there was many kids on your age that lived on her street. You remember playing with them all day and then getting back into your grandma’s house and feeling that cinnamon scent that for some one only her house had. It wasn’t a usual cinnamon scent. It had something special in it. It made you feel so warm and welcomed. You remember helping her to bake the most delicious cookies, brownies and cakes in her kitchen. You remember the kitchen had a yellow counter, but the entire kitchen was white. All very pale and then the cheerful yellow in the kitchen that colored everything. You remember going to play bingo with her and how it made her happy to having you around. You both were so close and you had such a hard time when she passed, but the most important was she taught you so many things during your time together, and you’d never forget those things and her.

    As you drove, you’d remember those streets vaguely. You’d pass through the soccer court you typically used to go with the other kids and spent hours playing in there. You were vibing with the song in the stereo as you started getting closer to your new house’s street. It was Carolina by Harry Styles; you have to admit you’re not the biggest Harry Styles fan in the world, but you were definitely a One Direction fan when you were around 16, but you couldn't be considered a directioner either. You just listened to a few songs and thought it was good. But anyway, this specific song is one that you particularly like. It may have something to do with the fact that you’re from Carolina, of course. But it’s more about the vibe and the melody that by being animated it could actually cheer anyone up and the lyrics were undeniably good though, a little sexual, but good. It’s more about the vibe and the melody that by being animated it could actually cheer anyone up and the lyrics were really good though, a little sexual, but good.

    When you turned the right way into the street of your new home, you came across much more than you expected to see on your moving day. There were, as it seemed, paparazzi. Apparently they were shooting a movie right in your street, and it had also many people with many cameras and trailers that probably were dressing rooms. Naturally, you knew that thousands of films were shot in California, that’s obvious. But you didn't expect one to be shooting exactly on your moving day and specifically in your street, let alone that the street would be this crowded since the world is experiencing a global pandemic, ironic. You observed some of the people walking down the street, or should you call it a set? You don't know, but there were many people and many cars, at least they were all wearing masks. It had many classic cars, probably in the 40s or 50s style. They were colorful; vivid colors, though. Colors like yellow, blue and lilac was really present. To resume, the whole street looked like a movie from the 50s and for sure that was the intention because you could notice some extras walking around the set dressed up as 50s people used to.

    As you carefully drive through the street, you’d notice that from what seemed like a divine miracle, there was a vacant parking spot right in front of your house and you can’t help but smile when you see it. The first time you came here to see the house. You were with your family, and that was about four months ago. You just loved the house completely as it had such a different vibe from the place you used to live in New York, and honestly, just the thought of the house made your creativity activate as it had some really cool colored walls and you bought some colored mobile as well. Anyway, you stopped the car right in front of your house finishing the engine and grabbing your mask and putting it in your face as you'd use your hand to get rid of the seat belt and your other hand to open the car door and get out of the car.

    After closing the driver's seat door, you go around the car walking to the trunk where you use the car key to open it. When you open it, you are faced with two cardboard boxes. One was full of books. Books of all kinds, books of period novels, books of suspense, books of investigation and etc. Books that piqued your curiosity and made you want to finish reading it as quickly as possible. The other box was already full of clothes, those last clothes that you would finally be taking home. Your mother has done the biggest job in the moving issue; she was the one who was bringing the furniture and your things while you finished packing the rest of your things to leave New York. You try your hardest not to pay attention to the set of recordings and the people who walked back and forth, at the same time that you tried hard not to make any noise, because if you accidentally disturbed a scene, you would feel extremely embarrassed and would probably not even show up at the gate until the end of filming, but that was not the case. You removed the two boxes from the trunk just before closing it completely. You chose, perhaps, to enter the clothes box first. You bent down taking the box in your arms and walked to the door of the house where you used the key you received from the real-estate agent to unlock it before entering. You immediately noticed that some sunbeams reflected on the living room floor due to the white linen curtain that covered the glass windows. You observed the contrast of the sofa in such a light tone with the lilac wall just behind it. You walked with the box in hand by the door extension to the room where you placed the box on the small coffee table in front of the sofa. Returning out of the house, you can see the figure of a tall man dressed in a brown suit crouched in front of the box of your books. He had brown hair and properly cut. It didn't look like he was messing with your books, but he was definitely looking at them and it seemed like he was trying to read the covers of it for some reason. You slowly got closer to the man's body without making too much noise while you analyzed him, you crossed your arms upon your chest as you noticed the book cover he was looking at: Love is a mixtape by Rob Sheffield.

— This one is amazing! — You said, surprising the man that stand up fastly with the book in his hands connecting his green gaze with yours. He was tall, really tall by the way. His suit seemed perfect, just as his hair. He had a black mask on as a protection but the 16 year old teenager inside of you could never mistake those eyes. It was Harry fricking Styles. You considerated being quiet as you, yourself were pretty surprised now, but then you took your gaze to the book in his hand and then back at his face — It's like comparing love to a popular song that we usually search to define love. Just to find out that love is like oxygen, or love is a kind of drug, or a battlefield for some... — You said referring to the book with a tender smile on your face that Harry couldn't essentially see, but talking about a book that you loved caused this on you. And as you talked you didn't notice that Harry had a smile on his face as well. Maybe it was because you completely ignored the fact that he is Harry Styles and he was messing up your books as he's on the set filming a movie, or maybe it was the fact that he loved this book just as much as you did. He'd use to say this is probably one of the books that if he had to read just one book to the rest of his life, he'd chose this one and he usually had so much to talk about this book and so much to put on an argument about it but now he was completely speechless. He was just tongue tied. He was tongue tied about your reflection of one of his favorite books and how it looked so identical to his own personal reflection. He was tongue tied for the number of great books that he always wanted to read that was on that box. He was tongue tied at the owner of those books and her beauty, her intelligence of her voice and her voice as well so he just chuckled. A nervous chuckle as he leaned his head to look at the floor for a second before looking at you and holding out the book in his hands to you that calmly took it from his hands.

— I know! It's one of my favorite books! — Harry'd ultimately manage to say it as he observed you admiring the cover and running your fingers through it as a truly book lover would do — It's very interesting the interpretation you have of it.

— Don't you agree? — You'd interrupt him rising your head to examine at his face. He seemed paralyzed by some way, little did you know that Harry was mesmerized. He enjoyed the informal way you were speaking with him, and it genuinely felt like you already knew it each for years.

— That's the intriguing part. We have the same interpretation! — He'd say serenely, and then running his hand through his hair as he frown a little because of the sun that just hit on his glowing eyes.

— Well...Maybe you're just trying to imitate me to impress me! — You'd joke, with a mocking expression on your face making Harry giggle at your words and your face. It was the sense of humor to him.

— Oh really? And what makes you think I'm trying to impress you? — Harry'd say back with the same mocking tone that you formerly used. He'd observe your face go from playful to thoughtful in just as you to come up with a response.

— I mean...you were the one looking through my stuff, mister! — You say raising your eyebrows as you utilized one of your hands to take some strands of hair out of your face.

— Right... — Harry said with a defeated voice before as he compressed his lips together and moved his suit away from his shirt a little as he places his hands on his waist — I'm sorry about it, though. There was this box hanging here and I guess I was just intrigued! — He said shyly making you start walking towards the box walking closely to him causing him to feel a hot warm from your body as you passed. You'd bend over to grab the box but was stopped by Harry taking the heavy box from your hands — Let me help you with this! — Harry said as he held the box on his arms.

— There's no need for that. It'll ruin your splendid suit! — You'd say gently to him as he was standing up in front of you carefully holding the loaded box. Legitimately, he looked hot. He properly looked like a 50s husband helping with the moving with this outfit — And if you piss off your costume designer because of me I'll die! — You'd complement receiving a loud laugh from Harry's lips that shook his head while looking at you.

— She’ll be fine! — Harry'd argue back, then get a sigh from you before nodding at him as a statement.

— My house is right there! — You'd say using your right hand to point at your house, watching Harry turn his back to you and start walking towards it. You followed him through the door that was already open. Harry looked at the house immediately. It had a good vibe, and he wouldn't deny it. The choice of colors was exceptional, but he also noticed it was not very tidy, which would probably indicate that you were moving today.

— Where do I leave it? — Harry asked, referring to the box as he went farther into the living room.

— You can just leave it on the floor — You serenely said crossing your arms together and watching as he left the box on the floor and turned around to face you, but then deflecting his gaze to the ceiling before staring at your face again.

— It's a beautiful house! — Harry said as he moved his gaze through the room. He observed everything. He likes to observe. He likes to notice things that maybe other people didn't — Just like the owner, if I might say — Harry said cheekily and charming hearing your giggle invade his ears as you started walking towards the box of books that he previously set on the floor.

— The owner says thank you — You said bending down and starting to take the books out of the box and place it on the coffee table beside you as Harry watched your movements. You shyly looked at him thinking for a second and them smiling under your mask — For both compliments! — You said getting your attention back to the books. It's not that you don't want to give him your attention. It's that you genuinely think that he's just being nice, and he's probably not even interested in anything that you say.

— So... I have to go back to the film now but maybe you can give me your number so we can talk about your interpretation of my favorite book — Harry said shyly. His words took you by surprise actually but you couldn't hold back the smirk you had under your mask as you stand up again turning to face his green eyes. You noticed that he had his phone on his hand, hoping and waiting that you'd give him your number even though both of you knew that the book excuse was nothing more than an excuse as he was truly interested in knowing you.

— Well, it depends... — you said slowly as you took a deep breath before actually saying anything — If you agree to read my favorite books too, I'll give you my number!

— I'd be honored! — Harry chuckled after letting a sigh out feeling relief that you asked for something so simple that he'd love to do if that would make you happy — What's your name? — Harry said as he unblocked his phone screen and started to save your phone number.

— Save it as Elizabeth Bennet in there! — You said fastly with a proud smile on your face as Harry giggled and did as you ask and then looked at your face as he put his phone back on his pocket.

— Only if you save my name as Mr. Darcy when I call you! — Harry said knowing that after this, Pride and Prejudice would definitely become one of his favorite books ever.

[apocalypticbadass]

Sapphic Vampire Lovers (Smut)

A/N: Hey guysss it’s Alice smut time. Haven't been able to get the woman out of my head recently so here are my musings. You live with the Cullens and Alice is your girlfriend, but no one at school knows. You’re basically an adopted sibling so I might refer to the kiddos as your brother/sister. Also I’m not saying Alice can't see the future in this but like...lowkey...it’s hard as hell to write for her when she already knows everything lol.

Warnings: Smut, cursing, I think that’s it.

----

You sighed loudly as Mike Newton continued to prattle on about unimportant matters by your side. The bell signaled the beginning of class, and you feigned an apologetic look, which Mike believed wholeheartedly as he scurried to his seat. Poor boy. You turned to Emmett, your “brother” who sat next to you in Chem.

“He doesn’t give up, does he?” Emmett snickered.

You shook your head and sighed. “Oh shut it, Em.”

“You should just turn him away at this point. It’s going too far. Alice is starting to really notice.”

“Wait actually? She can’t possibly think I would ever pick Mike Newton over her.” You replied, getting quite nervous that Alice might be upset with you.

“I’m just sayin’. He’s always flirting with you, the last thing you want is for Alice to get the wrong idea.” “Yeah, you're right. Thanks Em.”

He smiled at you and ruffled your hair before you both turned towards the front to pay some attention to your teacher. You couldn’t sit still for the entirety of class, Emmett kept having to pull your hands out of your mouth to stop you from biting your nails or rest his hand on your knee to keep your leg from bouncing. The bell rang after a painfully long class, and all you wanted was to get out of there. It was the last period of the day, so you and Emmett grabbed your things and booked it out of class, he understood your desire to leave. What the both of you had missed while you were too busy worrying about your anxiety, was that Mike Newton had left class 10 minutes early with Eric Yorkie and Tyler Crowley. How Emmett’s incredible hearing and sight had missed that, you’ll never know. Or maybe he just thought it was unimportant. The rest of your family caught up with you, and Alice linked her arm in yours.

“Hi baby.” She said with a smile.

“Hi Ali.” You answered, nuzzling into her shoulder as you walked.

As you all got closer to the parking lot, Emmett gasped. “Oh my fucking God...”

“Oh Jesus, here we go.” Rosalie sighed.

Draped across the side of Mike’s minivan, made of canvas and paint, was a sign that read “(Y/N), will you go to prom with me?”

You stopped dead in your tracks.

This could not be happening.

No way was this happening.

You turned, horrified, to look at Alice’s face. She was staring straight ahead, jaw set, eyes unreadable. You softly disconnected your arms and rushed over to Mike, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

He beamed as he saw your urgency. “So, what do you think?”

“Mike, take it down right now.” You pleaded. “I’m sorry but I won’t go to prom with you.”

His face fell as Eric and Tyler moved to take the sign down and save Mike a little bit of embarrassment.

“I’m sorry Mike, I have to go.”

“Yeah, no, it’s cool.” He said, rubbing the back of his head.

Your family was on your left and they were already getting into the car. Alice was at the back, and you grabbed her wrist while begging her to turn around and talk to you. “Alice, please, can we talk?”

“What is there to talk about?” She spat, venom in her voice. “Clearly you gave him a reason to think he should ask you. You’re very friendly, and I love that about you, but I think flirting with someone when you have a girlfriend is way too far.” “Alice you know I would never do that. You know how loyal I am to you, Mike could never hold a candle to you. I swear I’ve never flirted with him in my life, he’s just obsessed or something.” Your eyes shone with tears. “Please, baby. Trust me, not him. I swear on my life I only love you.”

You could see the slightest softening of her defensive exterior as your (y/e/c) eyes bore into her deep amber ones.

She stepped closer to you and sighed. “You’re right, I’m overreacting, I suppose. You haven’t given me any reason to believe that you’d flirt with him.” Alice placed her lips below your ear. “Unfortunately for you, you’ll have to pay for poor Mike’s mistake. I’ll have to remind you who you belong to, just incase you needed a refresher.”

Your breath caught in your throat, a blush creeping onto your cheeks since you knew that your family could hear you quite clearly from inside the car.

“I’ll meet you at home.” She said before turning on her heel to walk home, she’d be back before the rest of you.

You got in the car behind the passenger seat, head in your hands as Emmett laughed from the other side of the car. “What did I tell you?”

“Drop it, McCarty.” You glared at him.

“She’ll come around.” Jasper said, hand on your knee. “She’s not actually mad, just jealous that he can be so carefree with his feelings while you both have to hide yours.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Just sucks.” “At least you’ll get good sex out of it.” Rosalie said nonchalantly, looking at her nails, which she had painted last night.

“Get some!” Emmett cheered, which made you bust out laughing.

The car ride home was comfortably quiet, everyone else’s mind wandering to other things, Rosalie and Edward speaking to one another in a nearly inaudible tone.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach when you pulled up to the Cullen house, met by Alice leaning against her Porsche, arms folded neatly across her chest. Jasper squeezed your shoulder in encouragement, feeling your nerves flow, and eased your anxiety as best as he could, one last time. Alice got in the car before you could get over to her, and just before she shut the door, she gave you a “come hither” motion. You opened the passenger door and sat carefully inside of the car, careful not to track in any mud.

“Hi.” You said softly as she began to drive.

“Hello.”

You fell into silence, zoning out while looking out the window, wondering where the hell you were going. You tried very hard not to let her know how nervous you were, but the attempt was futile because she could hear your erratic heartbeat.

“Where exactly are we going?” You managed to say, in a calmer voice than you thought you could muster.

“You’ll see. It’ll be fun.” She said lightly, tossing you a wink.

20 minutes later, Alice pulled into a hotel parking lot, probably the fanciest building you had ever seen. You knew you were in Seattle, but had never been to this secluded area with these fancy buildings. You felt severely underdressed, the both of you casual, but her level of fashion much higher than yours, her walk far more graceful. She gave the keys to the valet as they pulled luggage out of the trunk. Alice took one bag for herself and handed one to you. She kept her hand on the small of your back and led you through the massive glass doors, which were opened for you of course. The gorgeous decor of the lobby kept your gaze until Alice had signed you both in.

“Come on now, love.” Her voice was like melted honey.

Your gaze flipped to her and you followed her to the elevator, where she pushed the button for the top floor. Your eyes went wide as you remembered peering up to the peak of the building and how high it was. As you stepped out, there was one single door in front of you. Alice swiftly unlocked it and ushered you inside, bolting the lock shut immediately. As you walked around in awe, you felt yourself being whisked away, vision blurring as Alice ran you both into the bedroom, where she tossed you onto the silk duvet. Her dainty, but incredibly strong hands pushed your shoulders back onto the bed. 

“What to do with you?” She pretended to think before pulling a pair of cuffs from behind her back. 

You bit your lip as you felt butterflies down below. Your wrists were in one of her hands in a second, cuffed to the headboard before you could even blink. “Are you going to be good for me, darling?”

“Yes baby, I will.”

“Good.” She muttered into your ear, tearing your shirt off to suck on the exposed skin of your breasts. All you wanted to do was tangle your fingers into her short hair as she marked your body. Your wrists audibly struggled against your confines and you groaned. Alice laughed. She tore your bra off in a fluid motion, gently worrying one of your nipples between her teeth.

You sucked in a breath. “Ali, please. Wanna touch you.”

She swiftly flipped you onto your stomach. “No ma’am. Not allowed.”

She then pulled your pants and underwear off in one go, leaving you completely exposed. Alice slid a finger towards your clit, circling it slowly. You whined and squirmed, so she ripped all contact away from you. You felt her cool breath at your ear and her disapproving tsk. “I thought you said you were going to be good for me.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll be good. I promise.”

“You better.” She replied, swiftly inserting one finger into your vagina. You took a sharp breath through your nose, trying to keep still. She curled her finger into your g-spot at an incredible pace, causing you to take a mouthful of the bedsheets to keep yourself quiet. She was pleasantly surprised at how good you were being, so she added another finger, scissoring you open. It took absolutely everything in you to just stay still and quiet.

Once you felt stretched enough, she placed a kiss at the base of your spine and retracted all contact, flashing across the room to grab a bag. You were unable to see this, but her clothes were off in an instant, and she had fastened one of her many straps around her hips. She’d chosen your favorite attachment, a hot pink dildo that measured around 7.5 inches. She leaned down to whisper in your ear while allowing the toy to nestle into the cleft of your butt.

“You’re not even gonna remember Mike Newton’s name after this.”

With that comment, she slid the tip of the toy into your entrance, slowly pushing into you, stretching you all the way out. “You can make noise now, love.” She purred.

Immediately, a string of profanities left your mouth. “Holy fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good inside me.”

After a few moments, you felt her icy hips hit your butt, felt her lips sucking marks onto your shoulder blades. “Move please, baby.” You whined, trying not to struggle against her. She pulled out of you slowly, and entered you once more. Taking her time, Alice picked up a pace that made your toes curl, she hit your g-spot every single time.

“Jesus fuck, Ali, God you’re so good. Feels so good, so fucking good, babygirl.” You babbled on as she drilled you into the bed at an inhuman pace, hands tangled into your hair.

“You just needed a little reminder, didn’t you, doll? Just needed to remember who you belong to. Mike Newton could never fuck you this good.” She growled, nipping at your earlobe. You wanted to make a sarcastic remark, but your words couldn't get past the way Alice was making you feel. Your clit gained some friction as each thrust pushed your body into the mattress a little further.

“Alice I’m so fucking close babes, please don’t fucking stop.” You cried out, the inferno in your stomach threatening release.

“Come for me, love.”

With her words, you came hard, squirting all over the duvet, leaving it soaked. Alice pushed all the way into you and stilled for a moment, relishing. “You were so good for me, babygirl. So beautiful.” She praised, pulling out of you and flipping you over.

“Wanna taste you.” You whined. “Sit on my face.”

Alice smirked at you and quickly unfastened the strap before positioning her dripping pussy over your mouth, settling softly with a moan. She had remained untouched until now, so the contact was quite welcome. “Christ, babe. Your mouth feels so good.”

Your tongue explored her walls, licking every surface, nose bumping her clit every so often. She leaned back and placed her hands on your thighs, squeezing them softly to get a grip. You moved to her clit, lips wrapping around it and drawing it into your mouth, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lover. You fervently continued, fully putting your mouth to work.

“Please, gonna come.” She rasped out, just before coating your face with her slick. “Oh my God, (y/n), so incredible.” Alice moaned while you continued to suck on her, drawing out her orgasm. You gazed at her with doe eyes from between her legs before she got off of you, reaching for the key to unlock your cuffs. She rubbed your wrists to soothe them before nuzzling into your neck and tangling her legs into yours.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over the way you taste.” You said after a few moments of silence.

Alice giggled. “I can absolutely say the same for you. That was amazing.”

“Totally. I love you. Sorry Mike asked me to prom.”

She let out a belly laugh, pulling you on top of her. “No need to apologize. I’m sorry for overreacting, quite dumb of me to be honest.”

“It upsets you that we can’t express our emotions for each other as freely as Mike can express his emotions for me.” “I just wish people could understand our love, understand that our gender is totally irrelevant.” She sighed, stroking your hips as she spoke. “I just love you so much and I wish I was able to show it in public without fear of something happening to you. God forbid anyone got violent.” “I know, baby, it’s really scary sometimes.” You cupped her face, stroking her cheekbone with one hand, combing through her hair with the other.

“I don’t want to say it, but you know what I’m thinking.” Alice whispered, expression growing serious.

“I’ve been thinking about it recently as well, I think we have to do it. Sometime soon, I want to be with you forever. We’ll set a date.”

Alice gave you a lopsided grin. “Can’t wait to be sapphic vampire lovers until the end of time.” 

You laughed, leaning down to kiss her. “Oh hell yeah.”

[kaepop-trash]

Omg I finally found someone who writes about johnny and writes stories exactly how i imagine them to be with him. 😩😩🥺

Would you write something like him and you playing catch me or so and y/n gets like so excited when she is running away from him and so.....🙄

I'm glad he lives upto your idea of what Johnny could be. The least he can do while wrecking my one and only bias spot.

I'm sorry for making majorly outdated reference. These are getting increasingly elaborate for being miscellaneous moments with pre-establised characters and that is on me and nobody else. Am I maybe in love with this Johnny? Yes. Am I maybe in love with him period? We'll see.

I hope you like this.

_

Johnny realised that she woke up the moment the covers moved, stirring and turning to face him. He bit his cheek.

"What time is it?" She groaned as Johnny slid into bed.

"A little after one, I'm sorry I woke you up." He whispered as his head fell on the pillow.

She gave him a sleepy smile, eyes still closed. "How was the meeting?" She questioned.

"Great, I landed it." He shifted, wrapping his arms around her. "They'll give me the promotion."

She turned over, burying her face into his neck with a sigh "That's great, baby. I'm so proud of you." She hummed, praising him despite being half asleep.

He smiled, his heart fluttering at the words. He reached up to run his hand through her hair, careful not to loosen her ponytail.

"Thank you." The words fell short of expressing how much her words meant to him. "I love you." He added, his voice softer.

She hummed, kissing his jaw— the gesture sloppy from sleep. He didn't mind one bit.

"You too, Johnny." She whispered, her sleep slowly taking over.

He kissed her hair as her breathing evened out, "Good night." He whispered, the soft smile staying on his face till sleep took over him too.

_

Johnny walked into their bedroom a little past noon, frowning at her. She looked up above the rim of her glasses as he entered, still in bed in her pajamas.

"You're still in bed?" He raised a brow.

"I have left the bed." She raised her brow back, the expression never failing to make his stomach churn, "I'm just back in again." She looked back down at whatever papers she had in her hand.

"Why?" He questioned, walking into the room.

She sighed, "Some papers to proofread and flag. I felt like doing it in bed." She sighed the second time, turning a page over.

Johnny hummed, "I'm going down to the gym. What do you want to do about lunch?" He asked as he went over to the wardrobe to pick out clothes for his work out.

"There is some food in the fridge. I'll reheat it and we can have that. I don't want it to go bad." She sounded distracted but listened anyway while she read through her papers. A habit he always found admirable.

"Okay. I'll see you in a while." He managed to slip into his clothes without her notice, biting down his disappointment at that.

_

When Johnny came back, she was sitting at the kitchen counter with the papers still in her hand.

Johnny sighed, "Is it urgent?" He questioned, leaning over to make sense of what she was doing.

"No." Her eyes remained glued on the pages, "I just want to finish it so I have my Sunday free at least." She squinted at something on the page.

Johnny shook his head with a laugh, leaning over to give her a kiss on the temple.

She raised a finger to stop him before he reached, "I just took a shower, Johnny. You're sweaty." She didn't look up, so he couldn't even give her a pout.

"Cruel." He mumbled.

She cracked a smile, turning to look at him. "Filthy." She retorted with a snort, turning back just as he grinned.

"It's your favourite thing about me." He whispered, inching his hands further to land on her waist.

She bolted out of the high chair and turned to him with a glare. "I told you you're sweaty!" She whined.

Johnny grinned, "Weren't you the one who said that I'm irresistible after a workout?" He licked his bottom lick, "Getting sick of me already?" He joked, voice devious.

She snorted, backing away when he moved forward. "What do you mean 'weren't you the one'? Lots of people in your life telling you these things, Johnny Suh? Maybe you're the one getting sick of me." He smiled playfully.

"Come here and I'll show you."

No. Take a shower first." She pointed to their room. She walked around the couch in their living room, familiar with the space enough by now to navigate it without looking.

"You'll need one too after I'm done with you, you wretched girl." He moved around the couch with her, enjoying the sudden game they were playing far too much.

"My favourite title." She gloated, "I plan to live up to it today. Go shower and let me get back to work. You're an equity partner now, you can be your own boss." She pointed a finger at him, "I still have to listen to mine." She bit her smile.

Johnny put a hand on his hip, "Uncalled for." He gave her a playful glare, "My promotion has nothing to do with this. Other than that I still haven't had a chance to celebrate the only way I want to right now." He took a large step to the left of the couch, his long legs making the move significant. But she was more nimble, moving away quickly to the right with a giggle and remaining firmly opposite him with the couch in between.

"Why don't we really celebrate? I'll go buy that wine you really like and we can go eat at park avenue." She teased him.

"Or you can just come to bed with me. I need to make sure you're not bored of me already."

She stopped moving for a second, "I am never getting bored of you." She said earnestly.

"Never?" Johnny questioned, her words making his eyes glimmer. She shook her head at him. "Not even when I force you to wake up for a run in the morning?" He raised a playful brow.

She took a frustrated breath, "Yeah actually I take that back. You also made me walk from Chinatown to Chelsea." She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You're a sadist." She frowned.

He inched closer and she escaped just in time, laughing as she ran towards their shared bedroom. He caught on easily this time, grabbing her by the waist and turning her around, pulling her into his chest.

She whined between her laughs, "Now I'm all dirty too."

He hummed, brushing his lips against her forehead. "I wouldn't have you any other way." He murmured against her skin.

She sighed, melting into his touch. "Pervert." She whispered. He smacked her ass lightly and she laughed breathlessly, lifting her head to brush her nose against his. "See what I mean?" She grinned, winching with a laugh when he did it a little harder this time.

"Bed." He groaned, "Or I'm just going to pin you to the wall." He warned.

She hummed, "I'm not adverse to that idea." She brushed her lips over his lightly then moved it across his cheek.

He wrapped his fingers on the back of her neck and bought her lips back to his, kissing her with eager licks. He guided her steps till her back hit the wall, pulling back only to untie his sweats.

"Don't be in a mood later when your legs are cramped." He warned, looping his fingers into her shorts and pulling them down after his.

"You're already planning on making me sore and I'm supposed to be okay with it?" She questioned, stepping out of her pants with her eyes on him.

"I offered the bed." He countered, tugging at his t-shirt from his back and yanking it off with a swift tug.

"As if that was going to make me any less sore with that inside me." She pointed at his dick. "You used to be so restrained." She clicked her tongue.

Johnny laughed, hands reaching up to undo the buttons of her pajamas shirt. "Don't speak about Monty like that." He tried to bite back a smile.

She dragged her eyes back to him, "Did you just call your penis, Monty?" Johnny nodded. She squeezed her eyes, sucking in a breath and bracing herself.

She opened them with reluctance, "Like, a python?" She questioned. Johnny gave her a proud grin, confirming her worst fear. "I'm breaking up with you." She groaned.

He smirked, "Harsh." He dragged the collar down of her shirt down and leaned down to kiss her clavicle. "I have to admit, I love watching you stumble around sometimes." He mumbled into her neck, "Absolutely wrecked because of me." He licked her neck, making her gasp. "I'll miss that if you leave."

"You know what I miss?" She moved her head to expose her neck to him further, "I miss the first few months we were dating. When you were always soft and gentle. Trying to be all in control of yourself." She deepened her voice to sound more masculine, laughing breathlessly at her own effort.

Johnny chuckled against her jaw, "Do you?"

"Yes." She didn't sound serious.

Johnny pulled away, eyes sparking when he saw the passing disappointment in hers. "So what about when you're demanding me to go harder? Or you're begging me to ruin you?" He raised a brow, quoting things she had very much said before.

She bit her lip, he smiled.

"So you're saying," He paused, watching his finger as he traced it up from her belly button to her lips, pulling the lower one out from between her teeth. "That I shouldn't fuck you into the wall?" He cocked his head, feigning innocence.

He let her take the moments she used to come up with her excuse. "You can't go back now, Johnny Suh. Now I'm hooked on it, the way you snap your hips into mine. You did this." She looked at him through a hooded gaze, eyes blown out.

It was his turn to bite his lips, coming closer till their skin touched.

"Very well," He sighed with mock defeat, looking up to give her a devious look, "You're my boss after all."

"Where's my equity?" She mumbled, making Johnny laugh with the deep throaty voice he got when he was impossibly aroused. He gave her an affectionate smile, one she returned with equal love.

"Jump." He ordered.

She wrapped her legs around him, being held up by his arms on her ass and her hold on his hips.

His eyes melted for a second, something making him think. He looked up at her, "Don't get sick of me." He told her.

She gave him a lost expression, the words having no purchase when she was naked and being held against a wall by him. "So clingy." She licked her lips.

"You did that."

She grinned, resting her head on the wall with a content sigh, "Not even when you make me walk across the Brooklyn bridge." She promised. Johnny kissed her forehead, both their smiles faltering when he entered her swiftly, soft grunts leaving them both.

As he slowly picked up pace, her hands tried to find a grip everywhere before coming back to his shoulders.

"God." She groaned, unfettered. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" Her words tied into his tongue as he wrapped her lips in a kiss. She clenched around him, making his breath stutter as he drew back just enough to keep his lips against hers. "Absolutely fucking insane." She repeated, eyes screwed shut. He closed the non-existent gap and bit down on her tongue, her whine making him twitch deep inside her. Her words felt ironic when he was sure he hadn't felt sanity since that summer they met.

He pulled back to put his forehead on hers, eyes searching her face.

"Everytime I think." He spoke through clenched teeth, pausing to groan as he pulled out. "That I can't love you anymore than I already do." He sighed, wrapping his arms around her thighs with more security, lifting her hips and sliding back into her. The angle made her cry out. "I find myself pleasantly surprised." He kissed her eyelid.

A particularly sharp thrust made them both gasp. Johnny watched her parted lips and furrowed face, "What do I do?" He pulled out and slammed back in, making her moan. "What do with all this love in me for you?" Johnny shuddered, realising with a start that he came without realising.

He increased his pace, reaching down to massage her clit to bring her to her own high. She dropped her head onto his shoulders with a moan, a string of curses leaving her open mouth.

Before he could let her back down, she pulled him in; kissing every inch of his face till he was giggling.

"I love you." She mumbled against his cheekbone, "So much." She kissed his nose, "Sometimes I think I'll burst with it." She kissed his temple. "You tell me what I should do about that." She kissed him.

Johnny laughed against her lips, the words making joy bubble to his throat. There was something he could think of, it was just a matter of when he would ask.

_

Send me an ask about a character from one of my fics in a scenario and I'll write a drabble.

Character from: Unintended Consequences