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screampied · 4 months

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toji realizes he’s in love with you when he lets you shave his face for the first time,

he’s got the biggest grump of a scowl plastered on his naturally crooked lips. as he’s glowering, he’s also trying to prevent himself from smiling because you looked so cute. your touch with him was gentle—like it always was. after you wiped his face with a dampened face towel, you rub your hands against the lower part of his jaw. “soooo,” you utter, breaking the dead silence as he’s just peering down at you. “tell me ‘bout your day, toji.”

with the palms of your hands tenderly caressing against his chiseled jawline—you smear every part of his chin and cheekbones with shaving cream. even the secluded areas underneath his nose. as you do so, toji tchs. “day was fine, baby. ‘n i told ya i can shave myself.”

“i know i know,” you hum, creating a circular motion with your hands before gently making sure every sector near the lower part of his face was lathered with nice frothy amounts of shaving cream. “wowww, you’ve got such soft skin. skin routine when?”

“ugh, y’er insufferable,” he rolls his eyes. although, his skin was surprisingly clear. toji only had a bit of a stubble, hardly any facial hair but it was growing the more he aged. you took it upon yourself to ask to help him shave and he said yes, not realizing how much he’d soon grow to like it. the feeling of your delicate, warm hands rubbing against his face was somewhat . . soothing. with a deep, heaving sigh, toji’s hooded jade eyes meet yours. he spots your pout and his shoulders lower. “alright fine, i’ll teach you one day. only if ya stop poutin'..”

with a cheeky grin, your little pout falters and you smile. “okay,” and you wait for about a good three minutes to allow the spumous cream to souse everywhere on his pores. it takes a while—and as you wait, you take a moment to stare at his features. toji was definitely easy on the eyes up close. naturally long black lashes of his flicker as he returns your loving gaze, and he avoids eye contact for a moment. perhaps you were making him a bit . . nervous. darkened eyebrows of his arch into an almost sheepish raise while he watches your adorable curious simper stretch further. “don’t be so stiff, what are you, nervous?”

“not nervous. jus’ don’t want ya to cut my face off.” he grumbles in a hoarse tone, ogling intently at you opening the bathroom cabinet for his razor. “you know what y’er doin’ right? i’d like ‘ta keep my face.”

“oh, don’t be dramatic,” and now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. toji’s got a growing smirk tugging against his lips as he gawks you carefully start to shave in the exact sectors of where his facial hair resides. you did lots and lots of research—he knew this because he caught you reading various wikiHow articles on how to shave a guy’s face correctly. toji would never in a million years tell you, but he found that fact entirely adorable. you made sure you knew how to avoid burns and razor bumps. as you’re fixated on his chin, you mumble, “you’ll keep your pretty face, don’t cry.”

“aw, think ‘m pretty?” toji says, and you see the playful glint in his eyes. he’s easing up a bit, and he acknowledges that you were right. right about his stiffness, he was a bit tense. shoulders raised and all, but now—as of late, he’s starting to calm down a bit the more you talk to him. “i’d prefer the term 'handsome' but that works too, i guess.”

you deadpan, continuing your trail against his face—the razor sings out a shrieking tiiiing the more you gingerly shave with soft, gentle strokes.

it’s somewhat relaxing with the way the edges of the instrument adapts to the chiseled contours on his face. the foam starts to come off within each downward stroke and you’re very slow and precise. “okay, don’t be cocky,” you titter, and he feels his heart flutter a bit at how you’re just so dedicated. you’re so focused that your tongue briefly sticks out of your mouth, trying to make sure you do it perfectly. you tried your hardest not to cut him—you were so careful and that simple detail alone could have been enough for him to propose. “you should let me do this more. ‘s kinda fun.”

“eh. maybe,” toji shrugs, his voice coming out in a rough rasp. he doesn’t even realize it but his expressions significantly soften. he was only this way around you. to him, the thought of that was kind of scary. after you start to edge with the precision trimmer and reach underneath his nose and chin, you wrap it up. successfully discarding all of the foamy cream from his face, spotting his now clean jawline, you break away to rinse off the now grubby blades in the sink. “all done?”

“wait— don’t look yet,” you gasp, preventing him from gazing at himself in the mirror. “i still have to do the uh . . what’s it called again?”

toji snickers. “aftershave, baby.”

“aftershave,” you repeat. “right right,” and you’re so cute, kneeling down towards the wooden cabinet directly underneath the sink. you take out the mini bottle, pouring a nice goopy amount into your palm. you let toji wash his face with cold water first, patting it dry, and then you start to bedaub the facial balm in all the sensitive areas against his skin. he adores the mushy texture of your hands making contact with his face as each second passes. toji’s eyeing you, an almost grunt leaving his lips as a thumb of yours gently tickles against his infamous scar. the scar that slants itself near the right side of his lip. “thereee we go,” you give him a soft smile, the aromatic scent of tea tree oil setting against your nostrils. up close, his pores were now all so clear and you stare in awe for a bit at just how charming he was. the moisture that lays against his skin feels a lot more smooth. you grow silent for a moment before your own face softens. “okayyy, ‘m done.”

toji finally glances into the mirror, seeing his freshly new spotless face and he sees your proud toothy grin in the mirror’s reflection behind him. he cranes his neck to the side, feeling the once rough texture of his jawline now soft. he then lets off a tiny exhale. “looks good. y’er a natural,” and he turns to face you, he’s pondering on what to say. oh, your eyes sparkled with such admiration from his praise that it was just adorable. “thank you, sweetheart. for y’know . . takin’ care of me. y’er really . . sweet.”

and with that, his lips inch down to press a warm kiss against the crown of your head. your heart immediately swarms up with a frantic school of butterflies and so does his. toji prepares speak again and it’s an almost inaudible mumble. you could barely even register what he said at first because it was so hushed, but toji gruffs in a low tone. “i … love you..”

“h- huh?”

scoffing, he hides the burning embarrassed flush against his face by pulling you into his broad chest. you giggle at how he just abruptly snatches you close into his warm body before he slings a beefy arm around you. “i said, let’s uh.. do our skin care together later t’night.”

“awww i love you too toj—”

“oh my god, s-shut up..”

#★vegasbaby.#toji x reader #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk fic #jjk imagines

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amochi · 6 months

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honestly I feel the same way like I've read thrillers that have made me go "oh shit" but I've never been scared in the same way i am with horror movies or games like I've never been scared to turn the page of a horror book because of what might happen in the same way I'm scared to open a door in a horror game because of what might be behind it

the only exception to this is junji ito but that might be because of his drawings (even though the stories themselves are creepy) like if it was just a book and not mangas I don't think I'd be as scared by them

Yeah, real. I’ve only read one Junji Ito manga and it was his cat diary because of course it fucking was lmao and even the illustrations in that gave me the heebie jeebies sometimes

I guess books are just like that though since a lot of people are expressing similar sentiments. It’s just very funny to me how much I am absolutely terrified of any and all horror media except for books where I’m like “ALL OR NOTHING BABY LETS FUCKING GO”

#I will say I have strayed very far off the thriller genre of books #I tried a few and found them a little insufferable ngl aksjsjwjshjwhw but I do acknowledge that I very much could’ve chosen bad books #and I don’t discount the whole genre #but I tend to prefer horror novels cuz even if they don’t scare me I still get more out of them in my experience so far #thoughts #Allie replies #anon #Allie reads

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sistertotheknowitall · 7 months

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Danny is Some Guy with a not so secret admirer.

Part four? Post #four? I don’t know, none of these are exactly in order. Post one, post two, post three.

——

By the time Tim opened the door, Danny had his coffee made and handed to Mia at the register. He resolutely ignored her smug face and went back to making the other orders.

Tim had been a regular long before Danny had started at the coffee shop but it was three days into Danny’s third week when Tim had stumbled in at eight a.m. and did a double take upon seeing Danny. A very obvious double take followed by intense staring before Mia had cleared her throat. The blush that lit up Tim’s face was only rivaled by the one on Danny’s.

He had never had anyone openly stare at him before.

Mia had been insufferable ever since.

It also didn’t help that shortly after their first meeting Tim had started taking his breaks at the little coffee shop. It’s been three weeks, nearly a month and Wayne Enterprise’s CEO went from a bi-weekly regular to an everyday one. (Danny wondered if he should be concerned for the man’s caffeine intake but he only had the one cup every time so probably not.)

Originally, Danny had no plans to talk to Tim. It seemed obvious the guy had a crush on Danny if the constant looks over his laptop were anything to go by and Danny didn’t want to encourage it. Danny barely had time to make new friends let alone start a relationship.

There was also the added problem of what was quickly becoming his bat stalkers. How do you explain to someone that you were being watched by Gotham’s vigilante’s for no reason? (Or worse because he had made a poorly timed sleep-deprived comment.) Danny didn’t think you could without seeming suspicious.

Incidentally though, Danny’s plan went out the window when on a slow afternoon as he was cleaning tables and passed behind Tim. Once he saw the article the other man was reading he snorted.

Bruce Wayne and The Batman? Could This Be A New Romance For Gothams Most Beloved Billionaire?

It was one of those gossip rags that printed things like: Elvis: alive and well and Superman: a mild mannered farm boy? It was all nonsense.

Danny asked Tim why he bothered with the site and Tim responded that he found it amusing to read and that his family had a group chat where they sent the articles to each other.

“Okay. But Batman? Really? Your dad could do so much better.”

“You don’t like Batman?” Tim asked. Danny had slid into the chair next to him and shrugged. “I respect what he does but for as intimidating as he is, he also seems a little silly.”

Tim had given him an incredulous look and Danny hadn’t given him time to ask for an explanation, “and his kids can be just as rude. Like that flying monkey one.” Tim choked on air and Danny politely waited for him to calm down. “Kids? Wait - flying monkey one? Which one -?”

“The one always doing back flips with the blue bird symbol. He’s also a dick that gives hypocritical lectures about fighting.” Danny wouldn’t say he hated the guy but he wasn’t sure how many more lectures he could endure before going ghost and fighting him.

Tim had turned to Danny completely and was watching him with a look of disbelief, “you mean Nightwing?”

“Is that his name? Imma call him Dickwing.”

Tim had started choking again, this time Danny patted his back hoping to help. Yet it was all for not once he kept talking, “I think I’ve only had positive interactions with the one who looks like a walking red flag.”

“Red flag? Do you men hood-?”

“No, although he is definitely a red flag, I mean the other Red one. I’m sorry, I don’t know all these peoples names yet.”

“Danny!” Mia called.

Danny stood and patted Tim, who looked a little shell-shocked, on the shoulder. “Well work calls, see you later Mr. Drake-Wayne.” As he walked away he heard Tim mutter “it’s just Tim.”

(Tim for his part, placed his head in his hands and thought, well at least I have his name now.)

After that first interaction Tim stopped playing the lurker and started to actually talk to Danny and vise versa. Danny never asked if he still had a crush on him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Unfortunately, their growing friendship had only encoraged Mia as she happily sang “your boyfriend’s here!”

Danny, very maturely, did not stick his tongue out at her. He did however flip her off under the counter like an adult.

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hoshigray · 3 months

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hear me out🙏 imagine student body president!sukuna and delinquent!reader😍 same scenario but just switched

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i hear you, loud AND clear !!

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: student body president! Sukuna x bratty delinquent fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; you and kuna are college seniors - oral (m! + slight f! receiving) - face + throat fucking - clitoral play (sucking) - impact play (cheek + pussy slaps) - fingering (f! receiving) - standing + piledriver positions - unprotected sex - overstimulation - dumbification - degradation (brat, cumslut, pig, slut, whore) - blackmail - dick piercing (frenulum) - mention of drool/spit and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k

If there’s one thing that Sukuna loves more than anything, it’s power.

For Sukuna, the pinnacle of power is not just a status but a destiny he believes is his alone. In his heart of hearts, he knows he is the one who can keep this school in check, his control palpable in every corner of the campus.

Having Ryōmen Sukuna as the student body president of the senior class was either the best or worst thing, depending on who was asked. Although intimidated by some faculty and professors, they saw him as a significant influence on maintaining the students’ behavior for the college’s image. As for his peers, some would vouch that he was the scariest person they've ever met within their college student’s behaviors on campus. As for the students…whether they made sure not to get in the salmon-pink-haired man’s way, did as they were told, or generally avoided getting in his bad side all around, the truth was known in the air: Sukuna is a force not meant to be reckoned with.

So, dealing with people who stand in his line of power will be dealt with — especially brats like you.

You were the biggest thorn in Sukuna’s side, a true innocent fool who dared disobey him without fear of consequence. For one, you were such a disrespectful minx, always speaking to him with such a foul mouth as if his aura that frightens others doesn’t shake you down. You bat your eyes at him during his lectures, dumb doe eyes that flutter with dull eyelids as if not a single word from his mouth was processed in that mind of yours as you’ll just wound up doing the exact shit again within a week or less. You have no amount of respect for his superior status, treating Sukuna like some big shot.

“Tah, you don’t scare me, Prez!” You mocked with a laugh. “You and your little tattoos can go somewhere and make the other babies piss their pants and leave me the hell alone. Mind your business and stay outta mine.”

God, to say you were insufferable was scratching the surface. Sukuna can admit that nothing in his last year of college would allow him to experience absolute euphoria than crushing that childish grin off your face. It’s all he can think about whenever he has the misfortune of seeing your name or catching your face in the halls on his way to lectures and meetings.

But then again, if he can’t discipline you in the way he wanted on school grounds, it doesn’t mean you’re safe from him on the outside.

And then, like a miracle to his prayers, he finally had the dirt to give him all the more motivation. His second in command, Uraume, had found some evidence of your inappropriate behavior on the school’s campus. Pictures and videos alike, his smile grew bigger the deeper he looked into it.

Images of you flashing your bare tits in what seems to be a party in one of the dormitories and some drunk guy motorboating your chest, another of you smoking weed in one of the laboratories, which were undoubtedly smoke-free, and one portraying you fingering yourself in while sucking off one of the basketball athletes in the gymnasium men’s locker room. And the cherry on top was explicit videos of yourself that would tarnish the school’s reputation and have you expelled in seconds — absolute music to Sukuna’s ears.

The thought of destroying your image and exposing you to the filthy bitch you have put a spark of joy in the student body president’s cruel heart. But what would the fun be if he threw this evidence out all at once? He was a man who loved to drag out the torture of his victims. So, when he pulls you aside, to your dismay, and showcases the dirt he has on you, the look on your face? Not even a picture would be enough for him to enjoy such a glorious reaction. He never thought he’d see where you’d beg and plead to him on your knees, only fueling the superiority within his stance.

However, he likes to play with his food. So, he’ll put his hands up, “Alright, fine, I won’t take this to the higher-up…” yet the smirk didn’t match the comfort expressed. “On one condition.”

And for said condition? To use you and see your talents for himself.

“Damn, this mouth really knows how to work, huh?”

Oh, to be fucking your face in the student body government lounge isn’t something he’d expect. But holy shit, is he not fucking complaining. He throws his head back as his pelvis relentlessly smacks the plump of your soapy lips. His hands grabbed your head and forced you onto his length, which you were crying on like crazy.

Tears roll down your face; the harshness of his ruts sting like hell. You could only grip his jeans to steady, yet the more he bullies his dick into your throat, your train of thought becomes more impossible to follow through.

He slaps your cheeks, “Pay attention, bitch,” he curses from above and yanking you by the ear. “Loosen that jaw of yours and suck me off like the cumslut you are.”

Your glare gratifies him, watching you obey his words and hollow your cheeks. Jesus, the tightness of your throat has shivers crawl to his shoulders.

“Mmmff! Mmmm!!” Your muffled whimpers were all his ears could pick up on, and they made him sigh heavenly. He peers down to meet such a naughty image: your lips coated in saliva and his precum bubbling and piling with every snap and pull of his hips. Your tears and furrowed brows gave him the hugest ego boost of his life, making the devilish superior push feverishly into your mouth.

“—Mnnph! Yesss, yeah, that’s right; keep cryin’, you fucking brat.” Fuck, he’s so fucking close; your mouth and tongue were doing mad work for him to release, busting his load into your throat and succumbing to you to drink and accept his semen.

Balls deep to your lips, saliva mixes with salty tears, striking down your chin. You swallow every bit of him with a satisfied hum, eyes rolling up when he grinds his pelvis for his dick to go deeper.

But that doesn’t mean you should rest — hell no. Sukuna rips his erect limb out of your mouth and pushes you to your back with a kick. You couldn’t interject as he pushed your legs to your chest. An exotic position that exposes the damp spot of your thong from your lifted skirt.

The president tsks at the display with a sneer. “Fucking slut, so wet from just sucking me off.” He slides the underwear and is welcomes to your scent and taste when he glides his tongue to your clit. “You really are a fucking bitch in heat, huh?”

His tongue pets and laps around your labia, lubing your vagina with his spit while slurping your essence that messes around your inner thighs. You’re choked up, whining from his tongue fucking the entrance of you and licking your clit.

“—Ohoo! Hoohh, Sukunaa, pleaseee,” you slurred from the suck of your clit, his tongue pushing it and grazing his teeth with the delicate bud. “Hahhhfuckk, put it innn, ‘Kuna, I want—Daaahaa!!” You cried at the slap of your cunt, stinging your sensitive clit from the rough palm of his hand.

“Don’t tell me what to do, brat,” another smack to your slit as you cough up spit. “Such a broad, only thinking with just your pussy.” Although, he had to admit, seeing your pussy wink from his hits and teases made his pride sing. With a low chuckle, he straightens up, your anticipation climbing up when he brings his middle and forefinger to wet with saliva.

Yet a record scratches at the feel of something wet around your asshole, the digits pushing and teasing your puckered entrance. Begs fly out you’re mouth, but they substitute with a scream when his fingers manage to insert inside and massage around your walls.

“What, you thought I was just gonna play with that pussy like you wanted?” He laughs at your cries, stroking his ego from your anus, clamping onto him with the scrape of his fingernails. “You got some nerve; only dirty pigs like you get dirty rewards.” You gasp at the withdrawal of his fingers, and he whistles at the sight. “So here ya go, little slut…”

Sukuna aligns his cock to your rear, pushing it with no care for your lack of preparation. You scream at the insert of his cockhead and piercing, and the stretch that comes along his inches burrowing inside causes more tears to fall. But not in pain—the expression on your face showed no sign of resentment.

“Haaahh, yeeesshh,” your hands come to the back of your ass to help the position you’re in, the angle making your writhing figure jolt. And it gets better once Sukuna’s hips go at a mediocre pace. “Shooo goood…!!”

Your hands find Sukuna’s ankles when his frenulum piercing jabs you with precision with the increase of his erratic thrusts. High pitches and shrieks fill the student body lounge, skin slapping against each other, creating an inappropriate sound. Like Sukuna cares, though; fucking your ass on the floor with no grace — so much for a president.

“—Khheh, hooohshiiit, pig can’t even speak properly, making such a ruckus.” It’s true; you showed no restraint in concealing your wails. If anything, they get louder and louder with the clasp of your butthole on his length, drool spilling from your agape mouth. “Noisy ass acting all dumb on my cock.”

The graze of his piercing gets worse every second; shit feels way too good, like his balls smacking down your ass. But you couldn’t foresee his next move; Sukuna slipped his middle finger inside your chasm and wiggled around your vagina. A strong yelp erupts from your body from the “come hither” motion that scratches your upper walls, and you can’t help but let yourself go.

Your climax has you howling, your holes contracting with force from every passing wave that rocks your core. You pant heavily, milking the dick that continues to plunge into your ass, Sukuna groaning at the grasp of your anus and the walls around his middle finger.

He then pulls his digit out and brings it to his mouth, sucking your liquids with a smirk. “Not bad, broad.”

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slytherinslut0 · 10 months

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enemies w/ tension. | slytherin boy headcanons

author's note: feralism inside. readers be advised. eighteen plus.

- your enemies reaction to you bending over in front of them.

Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy, as your enemy, was an absolute arsehat.

He’d purposely go out of his way to make your life a living hell whenever he bloody could.

The teasing and pranking was relentless; from accidentally spilling a particular shimmering potion on your white uniform blouse, rendering it perfectly see-through and exposing your bra to everyone in potions class, to pulling out your seat when you weren’t looking; he’d done it all.

He was an absolute menace, but you also knew there was something more to it than that, something possessive, something obsessive.

And you thought this for a multitude of reasons, but the main one being that he admitted he was into you while drunk at a common room party. which of course he denied the next day, and every other day since, choosing instead to be as annoying as ever.

but on this particular late evening, assigned as partners for a class project, you found yourselves alone together; the tension high and the banter relentless.

“Draco, please stop acting like a bloody child for five seconds.”

He’d roll his eyes, fighting a smirk. “Pleading for mercy are you? How adorable.”

You’d huff, staring at him with your arms crossed out of frustration as he held your quill above his head, just out of your reach.

“No, I’m pleading for you to stop being so goddamn insufferable. Give me my quill.” You’d hiss, entirely irritated.

Of course he’d just laugh, wetting his lips as he analyzed your frustration, revelling in the fact he’s so clearly gotten you going.

“Here.” He’d sneer, all before tossing it half-way across the room. “Go fetch.”

by this point, your blood was boiling, but you wouldn’t miss the glint in his eyes, the one that told you he was enjoying this a little more than he should be.

With a frustrated sigh, you pivoted sharply, seizing the perfect opportunity. As you closed in on your quill, a deliberate hair flip cascaded over your shoulder. Slow and sensuous, you bent at the hips, hands trailing down your sides, tracing the subtle sway of your body reaching for the quill. Picking it up achingly slow, on the ascent, you locked eyes with Draco over your shoulder, a sly smirk playing on your lips.

Draco’s typically poised demeanor faltered as he watched, an involuntary pause freezing his features. His steely gaze, usually cloaked in arrogance, softened into a momentary bewilderment.

The realization hit him like a revelation, and before you could even process it, he was up and out of his seat, one hand gripping the back of your head as he loomed over you.

“What the fuck was that?” His voice was torn, shredded. “Quite the fucking tease, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You blinked, grinning. “I simply picked up my quill.”

His grip on the back of your head tightened, his pupils blown wide with lust. All his restraint was gone.

“You’re a fucking filthy little thing “ he leaned in closer, wetting his lips as he glimpsed yours. “Do that again and I’ll fuck you right here, right over this desk.”

Blaise Zabini.

Blaise fucking Zabini. Your enemy? You guessed you could call him that.

Mainly because all the guy ever did was sabotage your bloody love life. Every single damn chance he got.

And not even in a traditional asshole type of way, like by scaring dudes off or threatening their livelihoods--oh, no.

he scared them off by just being himself.

You’d known Blaise since first year, being that the two of you are from the same house and share the same friend group,

but, all the two of you have ever done, since day bloody one, was banter and bicker like a pair of fucking first years.

But as you matured, that friendly banter slowly transitioned into something more, something that neither of you seemed willing to acknowledge.

Something that you knew was about to boil over, at any given moment. and perhaps, that moment was today.

you sighed in frustration, watching as the guy you’d been talking to all night began to make his way through the crowd, finally taking the hint and excusing himself after Blaise had just ever-so-kindly invited himself into your conversation.

“Why do you have to ruin everything?” You took a sip of your drink, glancing at a smirking Zabini through narrowed lids. “Do you not want me to find love? Do you truly hate me that much?”

“I did you a favour, trust me,” he’d quip, flashing those perfect pearly teeth at you. “Dude would have bored you death.”

“The great Zabini, doing me a favour?” Your eyes widened, and you’d stifle an amused scoff. “Sure you’re feeling okay?”

As Blaise was poised to respond, you fumbled with your wand, inadvertently dropping it onto the wooden floor of the common room. Acting on instinct, you bent down to retrieve it, sensing Blaise's eyes lingering on your backside for an unnecessarily long moment as you slowly straightened up.

And when you finally looked over, you watched as he brought a hand up to his mouth, attempting to hide his grin as he shot you a knowing, wide-eyed glance, his body tensed as though he was fighting to restrain himself.

but after only a few seconds, he’d step closer, his hand grazing your arm as he leaned in.

“Excuse me miss, but I think you’ve made me drop something,” he’d pause, watching your eyes as you met his.

“I’m sorry?” You snorted. “what are you-“

he’d pull you closer, bringing his mouth toward your ear. “you made me drop my fucking jaw…”

you’d blink, caught off guard. “Blaise-“

“That ass is fucking perfect,” he murmured, wetting his lips. “cant hide it anymore, princess…i want you bad.”

Lorenzo Berkshire.

“Enzo-earth to bloody Enzo,” you emitted an audible groan, sinking back down into the chair beside him.. “can you please at least fucking attempt to help me?”

Enzo was uninterested in your pleas, truthfully, he was uninterested in anything you had to say. Paying no heed, he sat slouched, head nestled in his arms on the desk, seemingly oblivious to your presence.

you sighed. this was going to be a long damn class.

“Enzo, please? you can sleep after class-“

He grumbled softly under his breath, neglecting to raise his head from the desk. However, he pivoted it towards you, his bleary brown eyes meeting yours.

“can you knock it off?” his voice was a shredded rasp. it was clear he was exhausted. “don’t you ever get tired of hearing your own voice?”

You scoffed, irritation evident on your face. This was the typical Enzo conversational experience--a constant exchange of snark and jabs. It baffled you how a man so fucking attractive could also be so damn daft at times.

“i don’t, actually,” you huffed, trying to keep your composure. “but i certainly get tired of your ignorant attitude.”

that managed to get at least a chuckle out of him, even if it was a half-assed one.

“spicy today, i see.” his lids fluttered back closed as he muttered, “bite me, darling.”

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you teased, your voice taking on an arrogant tone. “masochist.”

Enzo emitted a snort, a hearty chuckle escaping from his chest in response to your suggestive jab. Progress was evident, and you sensed the need to elevate things to the next level if you intended to secure his assistance.

Making sure his eyes remained closed, you slyly nudged your quill, sending it tumbling off the table and onto the floor. A mischievous smirk played on your lips as it hit the ground, and Enzo's eyes snapped open, fixing on you.

Maintaining the intense eye contact, you slowly leaned over in the chair, letting the seductive sway of your movements accompany your reach for the fallen quill.

you could feel Enzo's gaze following your every movement as you retrieved the quill with a lingering touch--all while a subtle, suggestive smile danced on your lips.

the second you straightened out, Enzo sat up straight, clearing his throat, tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he fought to collect himself.

“what’s the matter, Enz?” you quipped, unable to control yourself. “thought you were tired?”

“don’t play with me, angel.” he muttered, leaning closer. “please, Merlin, don’t fucking play with me.”

you’d snicker. “help me with this assignment and i’ll let you touch it.”

“deal.”

Mattheo Riddle.

you and Mattheo were enemies for one reason, and one reason only--his suffocating arrogance.

perhaps you were the only girl in the school who called him out on his bullshit, perhaps you were the only girl in the school who didn’t fall flat at his feet anytime he simply breathed.

and Mattheo, well, he wasn’t used to this type of treatment. and he certainly wasn’t keen on the fact he couldn’t get you in his bed with a mere second long glance.

of course, you were fully conscious of the fact he was hot as fuck, but your self-respect and dignity outweighed your sexual desires, which in turn, created fiery spats every-time the two of you were near each other.

And so, here you were, paired with him for a research assignment; the two of you alone in the library on a Sunday night, while he was totally hungover. And as insufferable as ever.

“Mattheo, give my fucking textbook back.”

He’d groan, rolling his eyes as he tucked the book under his arm, hugging it to his chest while seated sluggishly.

“Come and get it back, then.” He’d utter, smirking. “I promise I don’t bite…hard.”

You fought back a scoff. “You won’t be able to bite at all if you don’t cut it the fuck out…it’s almost ten o’clock we need to start this.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, again, his tongue piercing the inside of his cheek as he pulled the book out from under his arm, and stood up, moving over to the bookshelf behind your chair.

With suffocating snark, he knelt down, shoving the book onto one of the shelves lowest to the ground, all before turning back around and smirking at you, crossing his arms over his chest and shrugging casually as he cocked an eyebrow.

“You told me to give it back.” The arrogance in his tone was nauseating. “You didn’t specify where.”

“First of all, that’s the wrong shelf,” you’d mutter, watching his eyes follow you as you pushed up from the chair, veering closer. “And second of all, you’re not funny.”

Mattheo poised for a sharp retort, ready to counter with his usual biting wit. However, his words stumbled into silence as he observed you drawing near.

With a swift, almost calculated movement, you bent at the hips to retrieve your book beside him. The fabric of your skirt dared to venture higher up your thighs than convention allowed, leaving Mattheo momentarily entranced and rendering his intended response obsolete.

But the second you straightened out, meeting his eyes, lips teasing a knowing smirk, he was on you.

Your back slammed against the shelf as he grappled your hips, shoving you back. he towered over you, his lips pressed directly against your ear as he growled;

“You shouldn’t be bending over like that in front of me,” his voice was torn, shredded, and he finished the sentence off with a sharp “ever.”

your heart was hammering. “Why not, Matty? Didn’t enjoy the show?”

“You have no idea what that ass of yours does to me,” he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. “Every fucking day I imagine railing it--I imagine fucking the attitude right out of you…you should know better than to tempt me.”

Theodore Nott.

“Look at that,” Theodore quipped, his snarky grin practically evident in his tone of voice. “top of the class again. how does that L feel, huh?”

you grumbled, rolling your eyes so far into the back of your skull that you were seeing white.

“don’t get cocky, Nott.” you nearly snarled, the frustration seeping from your lips like breath. “it’s not a good look on you,”

theodore merely chuckled, knowing that was a complete fucking lie.

cockiness was an infuriatingly good look on him, and that was solely due to the fact that the objects of his arrogance were damn impressive achievements that could make anyone green with envy.

the man was unfathomably smart for an arrogant jock whose life was dedicated to being the best quidditch player to ever exist.

clucking his tongue, he’d shoot you a knowing glance. “you sound jealous, bella. what’s your grade?”

as he tried to lean over to glimpse your mark, you pulled your paper away from him, scowling. “how about mind your own business, hm?”

he’d chuckle. “never been known for that, have i?”

Before you could formulate a response, Theodore snatched the paper from your hands, leaning away to sneak a glance at your mark. Your groan of irritation resonated, signaling your exasperation with his antics.

Annoyed, you reached over to grab your paper back, your low-cut blouse exposing more of your chest than you’d intended.

As soon as Theodore’s eyes fixed on your chest, noting your breasts practically spilling out of your shirt, he paused; his fingers involuntarily releasing the paper without further fight, his lips parting and eyes darkening.

“merlin,” he’d breathe, his voice torn. “you trying to give a lad a fucking heart attack, wearing a shirt like that?”

your cheeks grew warm, his eyes not once breaking from your chest as you straightened back out in your chair, adjusting yourself.

“it’s rude to stare, Nott.” you’d say, fighting a grin. “didn’t your mommy ever teach you that?”

Theodore let out a low groan, edging his body closer to yours. His lips dangerously neared your ear, and he couldn't resist sneakily glancing down your shirt, unable to control his wandering gaze.

“it’s rude to tease, Bella,” he’d purr, his voice a dark murmur. “and truth be told, i can’t quite help myself…”

you huffed, unable to stifle your smirk. “sounds like you need a refresher in manners.”

“Oh, principessa,” he’d retort, his voice laced with need. “you can refresh me in anything you want as long as i can see more of those perfect tits of yours.”

Tom Riddle.

Tom Riddle was an absolute brilliant genius;

a good man. a private, by-the book type of student.

and if you were being completely honest with yourself, this was precisely why the two of you didn’t quite get along.

it seemed as though Tom had it out for you, as though he had some sort of personal vendetta to make your life a living hell.

At every opportunity, he wielded his prefect powers to land you in trouble for something. Perhaps, in all fairness, you should have known better than to sneak into the restricted section of the library or prowl around the castle late at night,

but, gods. couldn’t he just cut you some bloody slack for once?

Admittedly, you were afraid to cross Tom. You weren't eager to be on his bad side, but at the same time, you weren't prepared to entirely abandon breaking the rules and having fun just because you were aware he could catch you.

so instead, you learned his schedule, where he’d be and at what times, knowing how to effectively avoid him.

the man was a cunning genius, you knew he could effectively destroy you if he so pleased.

but, on this particular night, he was set to be patrolling the dungeons for at least another two hours, giving you plenty of time to sneak into the library and do a little research.

and everything was going extremely well, hidden in the restricted section, blanketed by the nights encompassing darkness, when you noticed your shoelace was untied.

Bending down to address the matter, a peculiar sensation tingled through your senses as you completed the task. A subtle shift in the atmosphere hinted at an approaching presence, and just as you straightened up, the hushed cadence of footsteps drew closer.

Before you could pivot to face the intruder, their looming silhouette materialized behind you.

A towering figure, their breath, warm and palpable, brushed over your ear as they leaned in, setting your nerves on edge.

“you shouldn’t be bending over like that in public,” the voice was a deep, dark rasp in your ear, the arrogance in the tone unmistakable. “some people might think you’re a little slut.”

heat rushed you, your thighs clenched. “and what if i want some people to think that?”

immediately understanding your suggestive remark, Tom wasted no time before grappling your hips and spinning you around to face him, one hand slithering around your lower back and grasping a palmful of your ass.

“filthy whore,” he’d growl, his voice shredded now, barely restrained. “breaking the rules and showing off that perfect ass for anyone to see…calls for punishment i’d say.”

his teeth found your neck and you whimpered, clutching onto him. “i’m-“

Tom pulled back, meeting your eyes. “bend over the desk, now.”

#sorry #i got extremely carried away #18+ au.

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