#something something fucked up ways of finding yourself

[tofixtheshadows]

You guys really need to stop and consider the ways you're talking about Kabru I am dead fucking serious. Like I know that flattening characters is just what fandom does to a certain extent, but Kabru's actual personality is getting lost to the fandom hivemind insisting that he's aggressive/cruel/sociopathic/hateful, and these are particularly concerning takes to see leveled at the only brown character in the main cast day after day. "My poor sweet golden child Laios needs to be protected from this scary brown man" is not a good look! Like, it's very telling that the bulk of the hate and bad faith readings are reserved for Toshiro and Kabru. Everyone else's flaws get to be discussed and validated and forgiven (or erased), meanwhile people are straight making up things to be mad about with Toshiro and Kabru but patting themselves on the back for being smart.

The worst part is how undeserved it all is. I'm trying to lay off anime-onlys because we're still kind of in the red herring stage of getting to know Kabru, but I would still like to gently suggest that even if you think Kabru is up to something, you don't gave to get in the tags of every fan creator's post and bring up how you hate him or You Can Tell he's totally evil. Sometimes I think Kabru's blue eyes give people license to say things about his appearance that they know would sound completely racist otherwise, but referring to his blue eyes acts as a get-out-of-racism free card. The jokes about the dog with brown contacts are getting old, by the way.

For people who have read the manga, it's disappointing. Kabru is one of the most complex and important characters in the story, and if you base your interpretation of him and all your fandom interactions on shallow first impressions you are completely missing out.

I know part of this is because Dungeon Meshi is a comedy, but the story also wants to be taken seriously. For example, it's admittedly really funny when Chilchuck calls Laios "sick in the head", but that doesn't change the fact that the way Chilchuck casually belittles Laios caused him to hide the fact that he was "hallucinating" from his friends for weeks. Those feelings matter.

Like, this

is funny.

But this?

Is not. This is just a very clear example of a brown boy with PTSD. As someone else with PTSD, just looking at this fucking sucks, man.

The only reason why Kabru thinks about killing Laios is because he is in the middle of a flashback. He's struggling through a panic attack. If he truly wanted to kill Laios because he's violent or because he finds Laios inherently annoying, he wouldn't otherwise talk with Laios normally. Notice how he doesn't act this way at any other point in the story- it's just because he's triggered by monsters. Even when he's thinking about his plans to "deal with" Laios later, he's reluctant to actually kill him and only considers it to prevent another tragedy. Despite his deadly skills, Kabru relies far more on "soft" power- insight, persuasion, diplomacy. He's a rare example of a character who absolutely is, or at least can be, manipulative, but seems to use his abilities for good. He's not a pathological liar, he isn't looking down on everyone behind a smile. He's someone who is extremely emotionally intelligent, and he's willing to put aside all his own basic wants and needs to stop the cycle of dungeons devouring humans.

I'm going to cut a potential thesis on his character short and just give some examples of things that fandom should consider about his personality more:

Racism in fandom isn't just about whitewashing in fan art, or using racial slurs. The insidiousness of bad faith readings, reductions to racist tropes, lack of fan content for characters of color, and dismissal of a character's complexity are far more common. You can believe yourself to be completely neutral or even positive about a character and still churn out low-grade bile about them into fandom's collective unconscious. Fandom reflects real life.

And I have been around fandom long enough to see how these behaviors (mostly from my fellow white fans) affect fans of color, how it makes a fandom feel hostile and unwelcome to them. It's fun to make jokes and memes, I'm absolutely not saying that everything needs to be a deeply nuanced take, but we need to be careful that it doesn't veer into toxicity. Please think about how our contributions to fandom come across, and what sort of vibes they cultivate in this communal space.

#Dungeon Meshi #Kabru #Kabru of Utaya #Dungeon Meshi meta #I'm putting it in the tag. I'm making you look at it. #if you come into my inbox to bitch about this just know that people used to send me b*heading videos in there for similar racist reasons #so I will not be impressed #I'm in a fucking time loop someone get me out!!!! #musings with Dea

[tetragonia]

My Body, His Choice

Rafe Cameron x F!Reader

Blurb: In which you've been arguing with Rafe Cameron all these years and that one time when arguments turned into something heated. Literally.

warning: no use of (y/n), kissing, harsh words, a bit suggestive?

note: enemies to lovers ;)

words: 445

“You know, for someone who claims to be so perfect, you sure do have a lot of flaws.”

You threw a bitter remark at Rafe. This was clearly not your first time getting into an argument with him.

"And you, of all people, would know about flaws, wouldn't you? I mean, it's practically your expertise."

Rafe was no stranger to you. You two grew up side by side as you were the same age. You often followed your father that Ward hired to lead some fishing expeditions. You met Rafe when you were 10 and none of those years patch your rocky ways together.

“Sarah is my sister, I sure know what’s best for her,” Rafe gritted his teeth.

“And that’s clearly not living with you,” you countered. “She’s happy with us, Rafe! I’ve never seen her laugh this much when she was with Topper, it felt like she was held hostage!”

Rafe stepped closer to you hurriedly, hissed, “Watch your little mouth.”

“Or what?” you removed more space between you and Rafe, throwing your head up in a cocky way and raising your right eyebrow. Hands on the hips, smirk never left your lips.

Rafe's breath was deep and his eyes were fixated on you. You thought he'd explode but then suddenly he grabbed your nape and pulled you close, pressing his lips against yours. His breath felt hot against your skin, his grip was tight.

Rafe’s kiss was rough and hurried, fueled by a mix of desire and frustration.

Caught by surprise, you didn’t think twice to kiss him back. He was infuriating, yes, but wasn’t he charming? With that cocky grin and confidence whenever he stride, Rafe was effortlessly dancing between the line of tempting and irresistible. 

Even if you find yourself rolling your eyes at his antics and cursing his name under your breath, there’s no denying the undeniable attraction of Rafe. 

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since you jumped on that boat,” Rafe whispered between kisses. His grip on you tightened as if afraid you might slip away, his movements desperate and urgent.

You kissed him deeper, biting his lower lips as he let out a soft moan. In this moment, nothing else mattered but the feel of his lips against yours, the taste of his skin, the sound of his soft sighs mingling with her own ragged breaths.

“Then why did you pick an argument with me?” you moaned as Rafe started to kiss your jawline, and then your neck. “Do you suck that bad at flirting?”

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” Rafe hissed to your neck as you shut your eyes, feeling the intensity.

“Fuck me yourself, you coward.”

#rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #outer banks rafe #drew starkey #rafe cameron fix #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe obx #rafe x reader #outer banks smut #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #obx rafe cameron #tetrapost obx #tetrapost drew starkey

[peachesofteal]

Cool girl

ghoap x female reader / 18+ warning: the boys are foul - could be considered dub con / part one / part two

Two (three) can play at that game.

"When you're done being a brat, call us."

You decide within a week, that you're very much not done being a brat.

And you're very much done with them.

Fuck them, you coach yourself in the mirror as you fix your makeup. Fuck them both. And her, whoever she is, though you know she doesn't deserve your wrath. She probably has no idea the tangled web she's walked into, she's the one stuck in the trap, now.

The doorbell rings, and you check your reflection one more time, satisfied with your dress, the way it gathers across your breasts, how it flatters your shape. It's a tad short, there's a bit of cleavage, little pieces that make it more than perfect. Something about this style, the way it fits, always drove the boys nuts, so it should be more than good enough for your date.

Fuck them.

You bring him to the dive. It's a safe choice, the bartender knows you, pays attention. You feel safe here, familiar. It's a great option for a first date.

And because you're a cool girl, you don't know how to play pool.

Of course, he's happy to teach you.

You start with a tequila. It scalds on the way down and settles like fire, but it takes the edge off. One turns to two, and it's enough to get you closer, allowing him to rest his hand on your knee at the bar, allowing him to keep a hand at the small of your back as he guides you to the finally empty pool table.

He's handsy, and normally, you'd be a little put off.

But not tonight.

"Okay, it's simple. You use the white ball to break." He lines up your shot for you, folding you into place, bending forward, hand brushing against your thigh as he leans beside you.

You intentionally short the shot, barely breaking the triangle of balls free. He chuckles. "Not bad for a first go."

"What do I get if I win?" Your smile is shy, and it's only half forced. You do like this guy, he's very nice, very attractive. Tall with a strong jawline, kind eyes. His fingers find yours, and his touch is gentle, patient.

"A kiss?" He ventures, testing the waters. You nod.

"Sure thing."

You're halfway through the game when the energy in the bar shifts. It's like everyone freezes, a collective whoosh of air washing through the bodies hunched over at the bar, loitering on the walls, perched on the wrought iron chairs out back.

The regulars look at one another and then return to studying the TV, or each other, their half empty drinks.

You don't need to look, to know.

You can feel them.

Apparently, so can your date.

"Don't look, but there are two guys staring at you, across the bar." You bat your eyelashes.

"Who?" It's innocent, this kind of play. Playing dumb. It's pure, until your chin turns over your shoulder and find them, white knuckled and focused, Johnny alight with anger, Simon stoic as ever. Sadness, and rage, roar inside your head, and you force yourself to look them in their eyes. Force yourself to be brave.

After a second, you turn away and into your date. He pulls you closer, palm resting on your lower back, mouth dangerously close above your ear. "Are they bothering you?" What a nice guy.

"No." You assuage immediately. You know what would happen, if he tried to be your knight in shining armor. You know how it would end.

With blood. Broken bones. And tears.

"Let's keep playing." You suggest. "Will you show me how to hold the stick?" Your teeth hold onto the last syllable, hand wrapping around the polished length of the wood, slowly moving it up and down. Your heart pounds, but a thrill rushes through you at the same time. Fuck them. Your date raises an eyebrow, mouth cocking into a sly smile, and nods.

After your third drink, you can't delay using the bathroom anymore. Skin tingling from all the places his hands have traversed, you're dizzy with the pulse of power, the high of your performance. It's wrong, and twisted but...

they deserve it. They deserve worse.

"I'll be right back." You promise, tracing a fingernail down his arm. "Get another round?" He trots off, eager to please.

The chairs scrape as soon as you turn into the dingy hallway, and their shadows fill the air, sucking it dry. You resist the urge to turn, palm flat against the swinging door of the toilets.

"What are ye doin'?" Johnny rages, and you turn to mouth off, only to jerk backwards at the realization of how close he is. You can count the flecks of gold around his irises, see the shimmer of cerulean blue. Simon stands at his back, a wall blocking out the rest of the hall, hiding you from view.

"I'm on a date." Simon laughs.

"You call this little show a date, sweetheart? Is that what you think that is?"

"Not sure you'd know what I'm like on a date since you never took me on one." You spit, and Johnny goes rigid, muscles hardening.

"Not sure that little boy would know the first thing about handlin' ye."

"Handling me?" The squeak your voice makes is embarrassing and incredulous at the same time. "Handle me? You think I need handling? I'm a full grown woman. I don't need-" He presses closer, close enough you can smell him, and your mouth drops open when he pushes you against the wall, cock hard under his jeans. "J-johnny."

"Aye, we think ye need handlin'. Ye're only supposed to be handled by us. Not by some sad wank who cannae stop droolin' like a dog."

"Stop." The resolve in your voice wavers, your resistance cracking and crumbling as Simon appears beside him, mouth pressing to your ear.

"You think that boy has a fat cock to feed you, sweet girl? Think he knows how-" One of them cups you between your legs over the fabric of your dress, palm grinding against your clit, and you grit your teeth against the friction, the moan it tries to pull from your throat. "to take care of this pussy?"

"She's high maintenance, ye know." Johnny snickers, lips dotting your cheek, down to your neck. He cups a fistful of your breast, thumb stroking where your nipple strains beneath your bra. "Ye think he'll be able to make ye gush for him? Make ye cum on his cock?" You're boiling, anger and desire feeding twin flames, trying to sputter out a response.

"What's going on here?" Your date practically shouts from the edge of the hallway, and Simon's grin turns feral. Predatory.

Fear strikes, and turns you cold.

"D-don't." You try to implore.

"Are you okay?" Your poor date catches your gaze, and you try to will him away with your eyes.

"Leave him alone." You plead.

"Fuck off mate. This is between us and our girl. Ye're done here."

"Excuse me?" He steps closer, and Simon pushes off the wall. Desperate, you latch onto his forearm.

"Simon, please. He's not-"

"He said you're done here." Simon snarls. "Run along like a good boy."

"Fuck you." He postures, and you shake your head frantically, trying to step out between them. Johnny doesn't budge, keeping you half pinned against the wall.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? Maybe you'd like to watch us fuck her, after we make you beg for it. After we stretched out your neglected little hole." Johnny laughs, a cackle full of crow, smart and mischievous, and you nearly faint. Your date looks sick.

He takes one look at you, another look at the boys... and then flees. Johnny whistles. "Coward."

When they both turn back...

you burst into tears.

#lmaoooo #peaches writes #ghoap x reader #its a milkmaid dress for sure #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #unedited

[sahkuna]

SHOW ME HOW

SEPERATE ! sukuna + gojo showing you the other ways they like to get you off— other than their dick. a/n can u tell that I was listening to/inspired by show me how by men i trust…

content warnings: 18+ minors dni, sukuna x afab! reader, gojo x fem!/afab! reader, fingering (sukuna), cunnilingus (gojo), ooshy gushy wet ass pussy (from you, ooo), gojo uses the term "good girl" once and only once!

divider by cafekitsune

SUKUNA RYOMEN

You want to crawl and hide.

The light behind your bedroom’s closed curtains begins to fade and grow dimmer, effectively casting your room into a dark and shadowy state setting for a serene and comforting scene. However, right now you felt anything but calm.

You swallow down another wave of embarrassment that confronts you once you hear the wet squelching coming from between your legs. Despite how you fidget and make a feeble attempt to squirm off the bed, Sukuna keeps your back firmly pressed against his broad chest. 

“Listen,” Sukuna murmurs, slowing down the pace of his fingers inside of you to bring emphasis to the noises you were making. His fingers prod at your walls, curling up against that one spot that makes your thighs squeeze in on themselves. “You hear that?”

Yes. Of course, you can fucking hear it. The room was so quiet that you could hear your next-door neighbour’s conversation if you reeeally strained your ears.

The unmistakable sounds of your arousal and pussy being played with by the hand of another were all too much and all too loud. It was clear you were enjoying this, and you found yourself growing more and more shy the longer Sukuna dragged out stimulating your body.

Fervently shaking your head, you bite back a wanton moan that threatens to pour out once you open your mouth. Instead, you choose to exhale a bratty, “No.”

Sukuna doesn’t bite though. He brushes past your stubborn nature to toy with you some more. You feel the heel of his palm press down meanly against your clit, which evokes a small whimper out from you. “You like lying, huh?” 

Before he pulls his hand away, his middle and ring fingers make a small scooping motion and gather all the slick accumulated between your thighs. Without hesitation Sukuna brings it to eye level, showing off the mess you made on his hand. 

“Look at that...” His thick, long fingers spread apart, only connected by the wet glistening string of your arousal. “Looks pretty wet to me.”

You press your eyes shut and twist your face away from Sukuna’s taunting hand. If you could, you’d bury yourself into the material of his sweater right fucking now.  “Quit talking like that!” you whine, knocking his hand away from your face. “Just… get on with it already!”

For a second, Sukuna doesn’t move and you’re worried you may have pissed him off a little. The only thing to go off of to determine his mood is the slow rise and fall of his chest. 

Then, you feel something. You’re relieved to find that his hand has slid its way back down to your inner thigh. It squeezes once, then twice. “You asked me to show you, right?”

More like begged. You’ve never orgasmed from just your fingers before, often growing too frustrated to keep up the slow build-up towards your climax and immediately jumping to something more convenient and alleviating to get the job done.

You give him a sheepish nod. Your own eyes skate down to where his hand rests, teasing your most sensitive areas.

“So, let me show you.” It doesn’t take him long for Sukuna’s fingers to go back to slipping up and down your folds, pressing gently at the entrance of your cunt before he dips inside once again. 

A warm haze clouds your thoughts, so much so that you don’t realize that the same squelching sounds that you shied away from tripled in volume as Sukuna began to finger you with more fervour. “You just sit there and stay quiet.”

“Ah!” You cry out, when his other hand slips down, the pad of his fingertips roll sensually against your clit. His ministrations prompt you to curl in on yourself and you suddenly become hyperaware of the rising, hot sensation of tension building right below your navel until it finally breaks. “Oh my— Fuuuck…” you heave.

Whatever you say or exclaim next gets lost in translation. With your eyes screwed shut, you orgasm hard against Sukuna. Your back pushes up against him, trying to escape his hands as he continues to overstimulate you. 

“Or don’t.”

GOJO SATORU

“Stare too hard and I’ll kill you, Satoru.”

After the expression of your threat, striking blue eyes flick away from the lower half of your scantily dressed body and drag up to gaze at your flustered, scowling face. 

Your comment hits him like a feather would to a ton of bricks. It does nothing. “To die between your thighs would be a wonderful way to go.” He says, right before doing the very thing you asked him not to do.

Long, delicate fingers gently trace the lining of your lace panties. Careful not to put too much pressure, his fingertips skim the band of your underwear. “You’re too tense,” Gojo comments from beneath you, still eyeing your clothed cunt. “You’ve gotta relax or it won’t be enjoyable for you.”

Your brows furrow with confusion and you shift a bit on the plush bed, seeing if that’s what he meant. “I am relaxed. What do you mean?”

His eyes soften at this. Propping himself onto his elbows, Gojo rises from where he once lingered near the seat of your panties and positions himself so that you’re caged between his arms.

“You telling me you’re gonna ‘kill’ me if I stare at you too hard is not relaxed and you know it.”

Something warm and knowing bubbles in the pits of your stomach, being this close to him aware of what’s bound to happen next has got you in this heady trance. Exhaling softly, you shudder a quiet, “I know.”

White wisps of his hair tickle your cheeks when he presses a chaste kiss below your ear, grazing your jawline. With his lips still on your skin, Gojo asks, “You gonna let me look?

It’s a simple question, but it has you squeezing your legs trying to dull the wanting ache throbbing between your thighs. Your hands find purchase onto the soft white linen of his bedsheets and bunch them into your hand. You offer Gojo a steady nod.

“Yeah?” He inquires to which you nod again, watching with unwavering eyes as Gojo lowers himself back down to where he was between your legs. “Yeah… good girl.”

Holy.

Your breath is quick and heavy once Gojo closes his eyes and mouths at your clothed pussy in a slow manner, taking his time with you. You’re not even bothered by the fact that he hasn’t moved your underwear to the side… yet.

His fingers are back to fiddling and teasing around the lace. “Satoru…” You practically purr his name, prompting him to smile— one that you feel— against you.

Gojo gives you a few more seconds of his tortuous teasing before he withdraws his mouth from you to tug down the black lace covering your slit. Once he gets them off he tosses them unceremoniously behind him into a random corner of his room.

He rests his cheek against your left thigh and sighs. Glossy, pink lips split into a slow, lazy smile as he takes in all of you.  “Y’know, I’ll still take you up on your offer…” 

Your eyes can barely open, too blissed out and waiting for the moment you’d feel his pink tongue dart out to press into you to gauge what your boyfriend’s saying. “Hah?”

“Of dying here.” Gojo’s hand smooths down from your hips, fingers grazing your folds to spread you wide open for him. “So beautiful. So, so beautiful,” he continues. 

Your body temperature runs hotter when you clock in the fact that he’s talking to your pussy. You’re just about ready to reach your hand down and press your palm against his forehead to steer him away.

“Shut— Ah!” You cry out the moment Gojo’s mouthing at your cunt, tongue sloppily pushing past your folds with his nose nudging at your puffy, sensitive clit. Your back arches off the bed when his tongue brushes up a particularly tender spot inside you.

Throughout it all, the licking, the sucking, the fingering, Gojo’s large hand finds yours and grasps it. While he eats you out, his fingers thread between yours— it's an innocent action, really, but it has your heart leap into your throat. He grips you a little tighter and holds you a little closer with each and every high-pitched exclamation you let out.

When Gojo pestered you over and over about the things you haven’t tried in bed before, he was shocked— and albeit relieved— when you told him you’ve never been eaten out before. Let alone, orgasmed from it. He begged, convinced, and promised you that he’d show you how good it feels to have your breath stolen away through other means.

There’s a fluttering sensation that tremors throughout your body, most prominent where Gojo’s mouth is currently pressed. Pulling away, you peek down at him once more with glassy eyes. He looks perfectly debauched.

He buries a secretive smile into your thigh. “How many times do you think I could get you to do that?” He asks.

If anything, it was Satoru who’d be the one figuratively killing you tonight.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #saw me post this a second time? uh no u didnt

[theosbutterfly]

the best thing at this party — t. nott

❝ fighting in only your army frontlines, don't you ignore me i'm the best thing at this party ❞

pairing: jealous!theo x malfoy!reader

context: at yours and draco's annual back-to-hogwarts bash, a pair of weasleys show up uninvited, much to theo's dismay.

words: 2.3k+

warnings: jealousy, somewhat possessive behavior, reader's kind of a bitch, theo's kind of an asshole, marijuana use, alcohol use, vomiting, a little fluff, mainly angst

"so where's the principessa?" you hear theo bring you up in conversation as you and pansy descend the stairs to join the boys in the foyer. "taking extra time to fix up her hair?"

"é un dato di fatto, lo ero," as a matter of fact, i was. you lean a hand against the banister, stopping on the last step, eyes focusing on theo. there's a chance you may or may not have learned italian just to make sure he couldn't insult you without your knowledge—not that it stopped him, but at least this way, you could defend yourself. "it takes time to look this good. but glad to know you noticed my absence."

"ooh, she got you there, mate," blaise chuckles, placing a hand on theo's shoulder, who shrugs it off.

"whatever," he spat, rolling his eyes. "i need a drink."

"finally something i can get on board with," mattheo points a finger at him, and they both turn to head towards the sitting room, pansy trailing closely behind them.

"is pans still trying to get with matt?" enzo asks, tilting his head up at you as they walked away.

"beats me," you shrugged, stepping down the last step and glancing between them. "now, why are you two standing here like a bunch of statues? last i checked, party's over there." you point your thumb towards the parlor, which appeared to be glowing green.

"the gate's still open," blaise shrugs. "draco wants us to watch for 'undesirables'."

"undesirables?" you repeat the word just so he could hear how ridiculous it sounded. "has he gone mad?"

"he wants to make sure no one from the other houses show up," blaise clarifies.

"fuck that," you shake your head. "come on." you link your arms with one of blaise's and one of enzo's, waving a finger up in the air. "colloportus!" the spell causes the front door and front gate to seal shut, as you begin walking with blaise and enzo towards the music. "now, where's dobby?"

your house elf immediately appears in front of you at the sound of his name.

"dobby is here, miss y/n," he looks up at you. "what can dobby do for you?"

you unlink your arms from blaise and enzo's and crouch down to be eye level with him. "fetch me the good liquor from the cellar downstairs, and then come find me when you've got it."

he nods. "dobby is on it miss y/n!"

—

"what are you doing standing here all alone?" daphne greengrass saunters over to theo, who was leaning against the bar, a drink in hand.

"daphne greengrass," theo greets her. "i'm surprised you're here. wouldn't the head girl disapprove of rowdy parties as such?" he waves his drink towards the crowd that had turned the malfoy's parlor into a makeshift dance floor, and she chuckles.

"i'm turning over a new leaf," she shrugs, taking a sip of her own drink. "it is our last year, after all."

"thank merlin for that," you walk between them, and lean over the bar to reach for four shot glasses.

"y/n," daphne's voice is strained as she clears her throat. "nice to see you."

you stand up straight after retrieving what you were looking for and turn your head towards her. "i'd say the same, but i'm not a liar."

theo shifts his eyes between the two of you, slightly amused at the way daphne takes a deep breath to keep her composure while you throw her a close-lipped smile.

"where'd you get the bottle, y/n?" he cuts in to prevent a cat fight from breaking out between you and daphne, and eyes the bottle of fire whiskey in your hand.

you look at him. "i had dobby fetch it from the cellar," you say. "pans and i are gonna drink it dry."

"just the two of you?" he raises an eyebrow, condescension painting his features. "does draco know about that?"

"why?" you challenge. "are you gonna go run off and tattle on me?"

before he could reply, another voice cuts in. "oi, malfoy! are we getting pissed or what?"

you turn your attention away from theo to the one of the weasleys you'd found lurking around the corners. "well, you're quite the impatient one, aren't you, freddie?"

heat rises in theo's chest when he gets a better look of the guy under the green light, and realizes its a weasley. what the hell was he doing here? and why were you allowing it?

"time is of the essence, darling," fred tells you. "george and i are trying to get a taste of this drink you've got before we inevitably get kicked out of here."

"what are you doing here, weasley?" theo speaks through gritted teeth, and looks at you. "you invited them?"

"of course not," you shrug. "they snuck in."

theo's eyes narrow at you. "and you're offering them a drink instead of throwing them out?"

"they ditched their house colors to don ours for the night," you tell him, eyes focused on fred. "i think that deserves them a little taste of slytherin."

theo doesn't miss the way fred's eyes trail over your body, and rolls his eyes. "maybe even more than a little," fred smirks.

you giggle at his words, but before you could walk away with him, theo grabs the back of your arm, pulling you close, his lips right above your ear. "cosa fai?" what are you doing?

you tilt your head up to have your eyes meet his. "mi sto divertendo," i'm having fun. "dovresti provarlo qualche volta." you should try it sometime.

you yank your arm out of his hold and don't give him a chance to respond, waltzing away towards the crowd.

"merlin, she is fit," fred comments, watching the way your hips sway as you walk away. "is she seeing anyone?"

"if she was, it certainly wouldn't be you," theo tells him.

"we'll see about that, mate. excuse me," fred throws him a smirk, before walking away to follow you across the room.

theo watches as he does, bringing his glass up to his lips to finish of his drink.

"do you-" daphne starts, but he doesn't let her finish, slamming his glass down on the bar and walking off.

—

"you all look pissed," pansy stumbles over to the guys, who were seated in a secluded area of the manor that was somewhat devoid of all the noise from the party in the parlor, passing around a joint.

"not as much as you, it seems," mattheo chuckles as she falls beside him, head falling against his shoulder. "where you been?"

"drinking with y/n," she says, eyes slowly fluttering close.

"that was your first mistake," enzo tuts, taking a long drag and inhaling. "that girl can drink double her weight in alcohol."

"mhm," pansy hums, eyes fully closing as her body falls limp against mattheo.

"alright," mattheo shifts, just enough to wake her and get her up on her feet. "look like someone's had enough for the night. come on." he begins to the guide pansy out of the room, his eyes telling the guys that he'd be right back.

"what the bloody hell did they even drink?" blaise asks, shifting his eyes between theo and enzo.

"fire whiskey," theo blows smoke out of his mouth and takes another drag. 

blaise's eyes widen. "and they didn't think to share? bloody wankers."

"they were too busy sharing it with y/n's new conquests," theo replies bitterly, passing the joint off to him.

"seems to me she's sharing more than that," enzo cuts in, raising his silver flask to point at you and fred on the opposite side of the room, where surely enough, you were tucked between him and the wall, one hand beside your head and one hand on you waist.

"oh, bloody hell," theo rolls his eyes, pulling a chuckle out from enzo.

"who is that guy anyway?"

"fred weasley," theo grits out.

"you're bloody kidding," blaise snickers, leaning forward to flick off some ash from the a joint. 

"oh, i'm bloody serious," theo nods. "he's been eye-fucking her since she showed him the tiniest bit of attention. it was quite pathetic, if you ask me."

"what's with the bitterness, mate?" enzo asks, attention shifting to theo. "you jealous?"

theo scoffs. "jealous? please. non durerà in alcun modo." no way that's gonna last. you weren't exactly the "relationship" type.

enzo shakes his head. "no clue what that means, but it didn't sound nice."

"you know how y/n is," theo tells him, hand motioning towards you and fred across the room. "it's nothing but a game to her."

"so what?" blaise asks, handing the joint over back to enzo. "you bitter she won't let you play?"

"who won't let who play?" mattheo rejoins them, and sits back down beside theo.

"theo's jealous fred weasley's got his claws in y/n," enzo catches him up.

"alright," theo stands from the sofa, no longer wanting to hear anymore of it. "i'm done with this shit."

—

unfortunately for theo, the second he headed for the bar and away from the boys, you were also already there with fred.

"alright, freddie, what's it gonna be?" your body was bent over the bar counter, fred's eyes trailing over it as you tried to reach for two different bottles. "rum or brandy?"

"oh, i'm in the mood for something much tastier, love," fred flirts, causing theo to roll his eyes.

"bloody hell," you hear theo mutter, and stand up straight after taking a hold of the two bottles you were looking for. "can't you two do this elsewhere?"

"well, no one's forcing you to stand there and watch," you retort, eyes shooting him an ice cold glare.

"for merlin's sake," he groans, clearly frustrated. "if you wanna fuck him, at least do it in one of the many private rooms upstairs so you can at least keep some of your dignity."

the words fall out of his mouth before he can stop them, making you scoff and set both bottles down before getting close to him to make sure he hears you loud and clear. "fuck you."

you walk away from both of them and head for the corridor, while fred looks at theo.

"that-"

"don't fucking say anything, weasley," theo cuts him off, and leaves him behind, legs immediately following after you.

"y/n, wait!" he takes grab of your wrist and pulls to make you stop and turn to look at him.

"get off!" you shake his hand off your wrist, arms crossing in front of your chest as you looked at him.

"oh, smettila di essere una tale stronza," oh, stop being such a bitch. he tells you.

"you know what theo-" you start to give him a piece of your mind, when an uneasy feeling suddenly creeps into your stomach and slides up the back of your throat. 

fuck.

you immediately push past him to head for the nearest bathroom and he follows, as your knees hit the cold tile floor and reminiscents of what you ate before you started drinking came pouring out into the toilet in front of you.

"alright," theo winces, crouching down beside you to take a hold of your hair and gently rub a hand up and down your back. "let it out."

—

"ugh," you complain, swinging your bedroom door open and proceeding inside as you tucked your now messed up hair behind your ears. "this was not how this night was suppose to go."

theo chuckles behind you, closing your door and tossing your heels down on the ground beside your dresser.

"oh, i'm so glad you find this amusing," you spat, undoing your hair and placing the bobby pins down on your vanity.

"i just find it funny that even after two years of drinking, you still can't hold shit down," he says, taking a seat at the edge of your bed.

you mimic his words, but don't actually say anything. "ugh!" you groan loudly when it suddenly becomes much harder to tug your dress off. "why is this not-"

you stop when you feel cold fingers trail across and down your back, your skin feeling like over a hundred degrees. "hai dimenticato di aprirlo, farfalla." you forgot to unzip it, butterfly.

your eyes threaten to flutter close at the deep sound of his voice, goosebumps rising upon your skin, as he slowly unzipped the back of your dress. "theo…"

his hand lingers above your lower back, as he leaned down, lips just right above your ear. "potresti fare meglio di weasley, lo sai?" you could do better than weasley, you know that?

his breath on your ear makes a shiver run down your spine, as your head tilted back against him. "mostramelo meglio allora." show me better then.

to anyone else, this would seem odd. but to the two of you, this was just how you worked. one second you were bickering, and the next, whispering sweet nothings. it was a dance that you both knew all too well.

though the thread he used to keep you at a distance threatened to snap, theo holds himself back—you were draco's baby sister. he wasn't suppose to want you. he couldn't.

"dovresti dormire un po'," you should get some sleep. he lets himself stay beside you for one more moment, before finally pulling away—to your disappointment.

"you're not gonna stay?" you grab at the sides of your dress to keep it from falling down as you turned to look at him.

"non posso," i can't. he shakes his head at you, despite your forming pout. he didn't know what he'd get himself into if he stayed, and a part of him was afraid to find out. "buona notte, farfalla."

good night, butterfly.

part 2 coming soon!!!

re-entering my slytherin boys era bc tension with theo is the BEST kind of tension, and hopefully this didn't disappoint.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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tags: @helendeath @freshlypickledpancakes

#theodore nott #theo nott #slytherin #theo nott angst #theo #theo nott fic #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #slytherin boys #slytherin fic #harry potter fic #hp fic

[teddynottss]

• - ARE YOU FLIRTING OR STARTING A FIGHT?- •

PAIRING(S): theodre nott x fem. reader

WARNING(S): smutt

SUMMARY: theodore and y/n are academic rivals, and when one time she gets into an argument with snape and gets detention, the slytherin boy finds a way to follow her there

A/N: thanks for 100 followers ily all 💓

——————————————————

Everyone knew you and theodore were academic rivals, both of you had always been racing to be at the top of your classes for years now. However, you always were a few points ahead of him, so you always managed to find a way to brag about it.

You’d always rub your higher marked grades in front of his face, you’d tease him about it in the corridor, lunchtime, anytime, all the time. One class however, potions, was one you faced difficulty with.

Snape wasn’t the biggest fan of your house, Ravenclaw, neither was he of you. He gave you a hard time in his class, while on the other hand theo had it the way he liked.

One time in potions class, Draco gave Neville a potion which caused the Gryffindor boy to throw up slugs all over the room. This little show earned a good chuckle from pretty much everyone, and seeing as Snape wasn’t really trying to do anything about it, you finally snapped. “What the hell is going on?” you shout. “Calm yourself, ms.” Snape answered. “No, no! Look what hes doing to him, do something about it!” “Alright, shush now. This is my class, my business to handle, my choices to make and take.” He said, more angrily now.

“This is bullshit!” You shout. “All right, detention ms!” Snape shouts angrily. Just then, theodore punches blaise in the face, making his nose bleed. Holding his face, blaise speaks “what the actual fuck was that for?”. Theo then goes for another punch and thats when snape stops him using his wand, “alright nott, detention for you too!” you could see the little smirk appearing on theo’s lips as snape spoke.

Later ~

The both of you had to spend your night cleaning the library for detention, wonderful. You got there and to your surprise, theo was already there before you. You ignore him and immediately get to work, you wanted to be done and out of here in no time.

As you’re putting some of the books back, he approaches you. “You’re not going to ignore me the whole night right?” to that you dont answer. “But really, Longbottom, out of all people?” He chuckles. “What are you trying to say, neville is my friend and everyone always finds a way to make fun of him so i will not allow that to happen in my presence.”

You leave the slytherin boy in shock and he turns back to keep working on his part. After a while, he speaks again “You know that this whole problem thing with snape will cause you to fail his class?” he speaks.

“I do.” You scoff. “That means i have a higher chance of getting ahead of you and being at the top of the grade this year.”he teases. “I dont even fucking care nott.” You speak as you keep your face to the front, putting the books back in place. “But that wont happen.” He adds. You turn to him confused, “huh?”. “That wont happen i said.” He speaks.” “And how come?” you ask. “Listen to me, we’ve been academic rivals for years, every single time i was so close to beating you, but i never did, do you ever wonder how?”

You don’t speak, as you cant quiet understand what he’s talking about. He then proceeds to continue “i did it on purpose, i knew how much it matters to you, i read your diary in our first year saying how you were so bad at everything you’ve tried and that studying was the only thing you were good at, thats why i’d write the wrong answers on purpose. Id also steal potter’s invisibility cloak to sneak into the classrooms and change your wrong answers.”

“There is no way,” you say hesitantly unsure what to say instead. “Yes, you need to believe me.” “What the fuck, are you flirting with me or tryna start a fight?” He tilts your chin to look up at him, “i never wanna fight with you, i just want you to be happy.”

Just then you lean in closer and connect your lips. He kisses you back, tongues colliding, his hands land on your hips and he pulls you in closer. He pins you to the bookshelf and starts leaving wet, hungry kisses on your neck and collarbone. You moan at the feeling and grab his hair, to which he responds by biting the skin on your neck, slowly, then more aggressively. “Theo, i wanna thank you for what you did” you speak in between moans. “I wanna pleasure you please.” “You’ll only pleasure me by doing what i ask you to do, let me give you head until you forget your name, cara mia.”

Just then he lifts you so that your legs rest on his shoulders, he raises your skirt and lowers you panties. “God you’re already so fucking wet f’me bella.” He says as he begins trailing kisses around your pussy. You arch your back a bit, wanting him to eat you out already to which he chuckles before he begins teasing your folds with his tongue.

He licks your folds then keeps a hand on your thigh to make sure you don’t fall before he adds three fingers inside you all in one go. “HOLY FUCKKKK” you scream and squirm and squeeze around him, only burying his face deeper into your pussy as his tongue and fingers work in sync. You feel your climax building already, “im gonna cum, theo.” You moan as theo speeds his movements. “FUCKK, OH SHIT YEAH JUST LIKE THAT.”

You release and theo licks you clean. He then shows you some of your come on his fingers and he makes you lick them off his fingers. “You taste so fucking good,” he speaks, kissing you. You moan into his mouth then speak “let me give you head, please, i promise to swallow everything.” He breaks the kiss and smiles at you before beginning to remove his pants. You kneel between the boy, who’s now sat on a chair, and find the lace of his boxers.

You pull them down to reveal his hard, throbbing cock. You begin leaving trails of kisses along his v line. Then, you grab his cock and begin massaging it. He leans down to kiss you as you’re playing with him. You palm him and feel his dick twitch at your touch, then you take most of his length in one go. He moans loudly at the feeling as you lick around, sucking better than ever.

You allow your head to move up and down as you try to take more of his length, your nails digging into his thighs. He tugs at your hair, his fingers playing with your brown curls. The slytherin boy then pushes your head completely making his cock hit the back of your throat.

You gag loudly, the sound sending shivers down theos body. As a result, he throws his head back, moaning as you quicken your moves. “Ohhh, my god ‘hm, yeah, please.. mm.. hmh.. fuckkk just like that principessa.” The boy now a whining, whimpering mess. him moaning like that oml.

Without warning, he cums into your mouth. You look up at him between your lashes, your eyes filled with tears. He smiles down at you, watching you swallow everything. He then carries you and places you on his lap, “good girl, that was fucking awesome, tesoro (sweetheart).”

“I wanna make you cum one more time tonight, i know you have one left.” he speaks. “Only if you promise to come inside me.” You announce. He chuckles and nods as he begins removing your shirt. He removes it then proceeds to remove your bra.

Your boobs fly out, bouncing, also revealing your hard tits. He immediately lays his mouth on your breast, pleasuring your left boob, licking and sucking on it endlessly. He also used his other hand to pinch and play with your tit on the other side. This man, lord. He was only playing with your boobs and he was already gonna throw you over the edge again.

He then pleasured the other boob similarly, licking, sucking, and biting before he started leaving a trail of kisses all the way up to your neck. He then held your hips and slowly begin lowering you onto him, you were able to get most of him in the first time. Then, he gave you time to adjust before pushing more of himself in. You moan when you have his whole length in and then when you get used to his size, you begin riding him.

As you begin riding him slowly and carefully, he groans slightly at the feeling. Theo then places his fingers on your clit and starts rubbing hard which makes you feel yourself cum start to form. “Im gonna cum again teddy..” you announce. “Do it, f’me cara mia.” You speed your movements and so does he, you begin moaning at the speed of things to which he kisses you to stop the moans from being too loud.

Then, theo uses his hips to thrust deeper into your so that you’re practically bouncing on him. That is followed by him sucking on the sensitive skin on your neck, biting and licking it until you scream as you release onto him. As he’s helping you ride out your climax, you moan his name making him groan and cum inside of you.

The boy then grabs your face and kisses you hard, “i fucking loved that,” he speaks. “So did i” you smile back at him. Just then, you hear a sound coming from somewhere to which you both jump in fear and begin getting dressed. You manage to put your skirt and shirt on, but the slytherin boy only his pants before mr lupin appears.

His eyes widen in surprise at the site of the boy half naked, “a little hot mr nott?” “uhh.. yes sir” he says hesitantly. Remus then chuckles, “im gonna let it slide this time but please try to do it in a more private place and finish your duties too.” You both nod before moving back to your jobs.

#harry potter #slytherin #theodore nott #theodore nott fanfiction #slytherin boys #smut #theodore nott x reader

[netherfeildren]

Notes On a Virtuous Affair

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: One would think this road ends in something virtuous—a greenness so dazzling it hurt the eyes—and not the sort of man waiting in his far out removed solitude.

He was the experienced one, you the innocent. It should have been different. Maybe it should’ve felt different. And yet, there was something in him that made you feel very much the conquering one, you the baptizing one.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Post outbreak; Jackson Joel Miller; Dom/sub undertones; Rough Sex; Impact Play; Face Slapping; Spanking; PIV sex; Ass Play; Oral Sex (m!receiving); Come Eating; Throat Fucking; Unprotected Sex; Potentially Toxic Dynamics? (haha?); Complicated Feelings; They Love Each Other in Their Own Weird Way, Ok?; Older Man/Younger Woman; Idk What This Is, I Don't Expect You to Either;

A/N: miss you guys, sorry for the disappearing act <3

Word Count: 3.1K

Read on AO3

Notes On a Virtuous Affair

Sunlight spills over everything, and the pastoral green leads you to him. 

One would think this road ends in something virtuous—a greenness so dazzling it hurt the eyes—and not the sort of man waiting in his far out removed solitude. 

But there’s an incongruity afoot here that only you appreciate.

The secret lies in that there’s a riddle woven through the three miles you pilgrim to see him weekly. The first, a boon, the green lush wasteland, if a thing that’s alive can be wasted. The second, an honesty, I’ll venture this distance for him. The third, a precursor, when your muscles start to tingle, your thighs, hot and itchy, nape, coated in a taste of salt. Your feet crunch along the gravel and dirt, protected by the soft leathered boots inherited from Lucy who’d died last Monday. A good start to the week, with new boots, and a thoughtful gift she’d left you, your friend, when your own shoes were so worn from all the walking you do for him. The end of the world changes death, finds good things within it. 

The sun warms the bridge of your nose, and you tip your face up to the too-bright light, trying your hardest to look straight at the intensity of it. He’s very much like this too. Why would you look directly at the sun if not for the hurting it brings? Your palms splayed forward at your sides, the breeze moving through your fingers, and the world is all around you alive in this apocalypse. 

Jackson is left further and further behind as you move towards him, and what no one understands, not even Joel Miller himself, is that there is something virtuous about this affair.

-

“I’m gonna fuck your mouth now,” he says down at you, bare as the day you were born and kneeling before his clothed and towering height. Nothing but the heavy hanging length of his cock is naked for you, the first you’d ever seen in your whole life. If he had his way, the only one you’d ever see for the rest of it. The wide head is slick and glossy, the way it bobs obscenely from his open jeans looking like the weight of it would hurt, the way it juts from the bed of hair at this groin like a threat to you. 

You know now, after all his focused training, that it only hurts him when you don’t tend to it as he needs, that it’s only a threat when you fail to do the same. He’s shown you the rules of hurting, in all these months you’ve come your three promised miles to him time after time. Shown you how it comes easy, that of hurting someone you love. A running in place sort of thing. You know all the steps that will come, the exact spot you’ll tread in. The way to propel yourself forward to finally leave that same place, avoid it, if you want. 

“Open wider. Won’t fit like that,” he clicks his tongue, voice a burr as he grips his throbbing flesh and with the other too big hand, also like a seeming threat, but not, he gives you a quick, softly stinging slap to the high of your cheekbone. The sound, fast and snapping like his disapproving tongue. You swallow a moan, looking up at him with that look in your eyes you know disturbs him, adoration, letting the hinges of your jaw go loose, saliva pooling beneath the cover of your tongue. “Don’t you want me?” He asks. 

And you blink once, moan crossing the bridge to a laugh if your mouth wasn’t stretched wide as it’ll go. He sees it though, skipping water in your eyes and gives that half smile, the mean one, the one that says he has all the answers in the world, knows all the things there are to know, that one you like best. Good girl, and his voice makes no sound, only the shape of the words on his mouth. You haven’t been good enough yet to hear the real thing of them out loud. This tells you that you must apply yourself to the task at hand, making him come. 

One heavy tap to the flat of your tongue sticking out for him first, and then he’s slicking that fat head against the surface, giving you the first real taste, salt and musk trickle down the back of your throat and you moan again, eyes screwing shut tight, cunt aching something fierce. Leaking just like the tip of his cock leaks too. 

That’s the thing about this thing, the one you see very well and Joel still fails to. The two of you, as disparate as you might seem, are the same in all the basic but most important ways. Too much in common for him to look at in the eye comfortably and still do the things you do. 

“Open your throat. Get me hard.” In your head, he calls you baby. In reality, only sometimes, when you’re extra good, does that happen. But in your imagination, where it matters more, he doesn't ask nice, but you are his baby. 

He slides back, back, hits the end of your throat, pulls out against the wet heat of your tongue. You keep your jaw wide until you feel him harden entirely, until he stretches his neck back, tendons jumping stark, clench of his jaw fluttering with a choked groan. “Suck me,” your permission to savor him like you need to. 

Hands pressed firmly to your bare knees, not digging at your soft wet like you’d like, or pawing at him as you’d like even more, you close your lips around him, cheeks hollowed and suck hard, tonguing at his slit on the pull back so that he’s bearing his teeth at you in a growl and shoving forward again hard, a snarl as the cinch of your tight throat strangles the head of his cock on every one of your swallows. Your eyes water, but he pets softly at the same spot he’d stung earlier with his slap. 

A game you used to play with your siblings, who could slap one another harder until the other gave out. It’d taken a while for you to come to the realization, but eventually, you’d realized the memory of it in your mind as it exists now wasn’t innocent the way it should’ve been. That there had been something you’d liked about it in a strange way—that hurting. That the first time you’d asked Joel to play the same game with you, you’d wanted him to slap you other places just as hard until you gave out also. 

The games were part of the thing. His own strange rules, like the way you couldn’t touch him sometimes—you dig your bitten down nails into the soft skin of your inner thighs—only when he said it was okay was it allowed. The way you were never allowed to touch your cunt unless he said so also. He had weird things about him, turned strange by the dangerous ways of life. Like the solitude, the house out and away, the begging you had to do for him to have you. 

Sameness. 

He wraps his fist in your hair, more sting, “Gonna fill your belly with my come, yeah?” His thrusts pick up pace, pulling your head back as far as your neck allows so that he can fuck your throat in full, jaw hanging wide, and you’re just the wet and willing hole you know he sometimes wishes you could always stay as. 

The thick cock against your tongue throbs once, twice and then he’s spilling hot and heavy down your open throat, sweet salt against the back of your tongue while you try and breathe through his strangling, tears spilling.

When he pulls back, slipping wet and heavy from your mouth you fall forward onto your palms, breathing fast, almost hyperventilating, stinging with the forced will to remain obedient. Your spine burns beneath your skin and your sore jaw hangs unwillingly open, sloppy mouth dripping a string of semen between your splayed palms. 

He crouches before you, dripping cock like your mouth, milked to heavy softness hangs long and sated between his thighs. And he pets your crown, the vulnerable shell of your ear, whole body on fire so that every inch of skin hurts without his touch, hurts worse with it. 

“Good girl,” he says now with voice. 

-

The walk seems longer some days. A thousand miles plus an eon instead of merely three. Especially on the days you’re more desperate than usual. The ones when your stomach feels full of sugar for him and the memory taste of his cock is already aching in your molars. Those days your steps are hurried, look in your eyes frenzied to get to him, to escape the things you leave behind. A too full house, your sister’s squalling, teething baby, your little brothers, and too many mouths to feed and not attention to be had, not enough mother for everyone to get loved. 

There’s reasons for this game between the two of you, you’d had to come out and find your attention somewhere else. 

Your love too. 

And if it comes with a sting sometimes, well, so had your mother’s. You like it like this now. 

The first time he’d touched your cunt: show me that pretty pussy, baby, and he’d had you from that very first sweet word, you gonna let me finger it? You’d spread wide, leaked into the cup of his palm like a whore, you’d needed to make sure he was for keeping from the first try, you see. So you’d done all he’d said, taken four fingers and only cried a little bit but whined a lot. Been all, hurts, Joel, high pitched and dragging his name out on a puppy whimper. 

He’d given you that first lesson in hurt the very first time: Yeah? Supposed to. A real mean man. And then made you gush into that very cupped palm so that he could drink of your sweetness. 

He was the experienced one, you the innocent. It should have been different. Maybe it should’ve felt different. And yet, there was something in him that made you feel very much the conquering one, you the baptizing one. 

The third mile comes to an end, the precursor, over, his house in view. It’s all quiet and slumbering and the long grass pulls you forward with its wind blown sway. The wide door to his shed is propped open, half finished rocking chair up on the workbench that sways with the intruding gust. The grass whispers behind you, the dark woods across the field moan, and he’s nowhere while the Tetons loom in the distance. 

You drag your fingers along the slats of his house as you pass, everything is so quiet, like he’d never been here. Like he’d gone and left you the way he’s promised he’d never do. Your belly feels bloated with heat, heart turned into four incongruous chambers that no longer beat in tune, memories of him rioting between each thump. Your cunt goes soft and drooling in your panties as your fear beats higher and higher, and you come to the mouth of the shed, peering into the cool darkness of this little place where he makes his beautiful things. The things that go into people’s homes to be used by people’s families to be stored in people’s memories.

The gleam of the sun does not cross the threshold, and you brace your palms on either side of the wide door, the air thrums and he’s not here—yet—you slide the toe of Lucy’s old boot across the border of sunlight into sanctuary and peek your closed-eyed face into the shade right before you’re taken bodily to the ground by his heavy weight. Palms catching splinters, his strong chest heaves into the line of your spine, strong arm at your waist to pull your breath from your lungs and your legs from under you. 

He forces you belly first to the ground, other hand circling your throat in the imitation of a strangle lest you lose yourself and decide to struggle for the first time ever. But you dig your fingernails into the dirt, scratching for purchase in preparation of what’s about to come, all the fight going out of you; body, half in shadow, half in sunlight. Your bones feel salt bleached. An over abundance of sodium in the blood that renders you catatonic for him.

He nuzzles soft at your nape while his hand shoves under your dress, ripping your underwear down your legs so that the elastic cuts into your tender skin to hurt. All incongruous movement, this man is. 

“Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to go creepin’ ‘round strange men’s homes?” His voice is so deep, drawled, broken up into different notes of lust and anger and temerity. All the strange things that make Joel Miller up. 

Yeah, you sigh into the dirt. “Told me exactly how it’d go for me if I did.”

You hitch your rump up then, presenting your cunt for fucking. The breeze doesn’t do half to soothe the throbbing wet. The sort of ache that’ll only be fixed by something heavy inside the hurting place. The sound of his belt quiets the disparate chambers, the beat in your ears of rushing blood is uniform now, there’ll be a wet spot in the shape of you in the dirt when he’s through. You lift your hips higher, knees scraped rough as you spread wider, face pressed to the ground and your fingers are well and burrowed in their little gouges now. 

He smacks the heft of it against you asshole, spits and presses a little. He likes to scare you sometimes. Nooo, Joel, all whining stutter, but with your back arching deeper like a little babied liar; you don’t mind where he puts it, only that he puts it somewhere.

“Hush,” he soothes all nice, spanks your ass once all not— “Gonna teach you a lesson.” And shoves inside, bumping against your womb on the first try, stretching your hole too wide, too quick. And there’s no prep, no qualm. No need to hesitate when you own a thing. You swallow your animal cry, ah ah ah, you want to hear how good you’ve been out loud. He grips your hips tight enough to bruise which is what you know he wants and fucks hard and fast, each swing whistles with ownership. 

He fucks you in the dirt like an animal, and this affair is virtuous. 

He teaches you the truth about hurting, about ownership, about so many things that only a man like Joel Miller could teach a girl like you. And all the while he tells you that you’re too pretty to take such an ugly fucking. 

The way he works your cunt, hungry, balls swinging wet so that they sting like his slaps, tip battering hard so that it aches like gratitude. 

These are the things three miles give you. A whole man to teach you about the whole world. 

The slick squelch of your overwhelmed cunt sounds loud, no more disparate heartbeat, no more green grassed whispers. Only the sound of his grunting above you like an animal remains. “You’re the perfect little cunt. You know that, baby?” There it is, you sigh. Start to tremble around him like that, like his good baby that you are, desperate flutters, little gash being fucked into obedience like you need. Your overwhelmed pants make little dirt dream clouds before your eyes as you start to come for him, crying his name, crying your love, crying that you’re so, so thankful. 

“Don’t stop, Joel. Not yet.” And he loves it when you beg, loves it when your cunt pulls tight like a knot.  

“Not yet,” he promises because he might be a real mean man, but he loves you like separating salt from blood.

Complicated and precise. 

When he’s through with you, there’s sunlight spilling over everything again. It’s journey goes on and on, and his semen drips from your cunt now. He turns gentle, thrusting still, making sure it’s fucked deep, pulsing in time with your own throb. Rhythms merge between the two of you. 

His rules are strange, his claims over you equally mysterious. He won’t say things out loud, won’t let you touch any real part of him, but his strange truths ring loud anyways, and when your heart isn’t disjointed, you hear him perfectly well. 

When he lays you out bare and trembling across his messy bed, the groaned pains of his age and rutting in the dirt like an animal sound from him as he drapes himself alongside you. Large and hairy, feet hanging off the end of the bed, entirely real with one knee propped up so that his thick cock lays heavy and soft over the swell of his belly. Your heart beats soft and overfull now. 

You watch the sun set across the planes of his chest and bask in the blue dark as the night draws breath around you. The work of meting out obedience to little girls who come searching for it is toiling, and you watch him melt into sleep, but right before he’s just gone away from you, with a single finger petting at the jut of the old broken bone in his shoulder, your whispered plea: Will you give me a falseness? You don’t call it a lie. This is a virtuous thing, after all.

Lies aren’t allowed in this house. 

He breathes a deep sigh, and you watch the fan of his long lashes sweep open, staring up at the shadowed rafters of his home. You swear you can see each and every individual whisker in his thick beard, dark and gray dispersed throughout. You see every single detail. 

He’d told you once there were ghosts here, in this house, and you’d learned later it wasn’t a lie. This became more and more obvious the more you got to know him. 

He stares up at them now. 

When he’d taken your virginity, when it’d left you the way you’d always imagined it would, covered in tears and blood and semen, you’d made that promise to each other. That you wouldn't lie, that he’d have all of you, that you’d not touch all of him. The ghost lay beside you in the damp bed of your lost innocence that day. It’d been just so ever since and over many miles of three you’d come to appreciate the realities of it. Who could be more connected than two people who always tell each other their truths exactly as they are?

“Give me a falseness,” you say again, not a lie. 

“A good kind of a bad kind?”

You flip a mind’s coin, wish you could see the exact ghosts he sees— “Bad.”

He turns to look at you, this half smile he wears is your second favorite one now, the honest one, and it’s all there for you to see. All the disparate chambers of Joel, just like your heart beating in your ears. You suppose the ghosts don’t matter then. 

“I don’t love you.”

And you nod solemn. Bad, like a whisper, like your game. 

You smile back, the one you know he likes best, the one that looks like his.

Netherfeildren’s Masterlist

Updates Blog

#vic fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #Joel Miller smut #joel miller #the last of us AU

[ghouljams]

More fae!Gaz, he's so boyfriend, he's always there when you need him. Even if you didn't know he'd be there or that you'd need him! That's just how great he is!

You duck under an awning to escape the sudden downpour, already soaked to the bone. You look out at the pouring rain, tip your head to try and get a glimpse at how the clouds are moving, and sigh. You'll just have to wait it out. You wish you'd brought your umbrella.

The door beside you chimes, and there's the click fwump of an umbrella being opened. You glance at the man looking out at the rain, you recognize him. You've had a few conversations with him. Not friends, not even acquaintances, but not strangers either. What was his name again?

Something whispers through your mind, bounces and echoes: Gaz, Gaz, Gaz.

"Gaz?" You confirm. He turns to looks at you, and his eyes spark with recognition. He smiles and you smile back.

"Hey there sunshine," Gaz grins, his eyes drag over you, bounce across your chest and the way your soaked shirt clings to you, "gone for a swim?"

You laugh, shake your head and then shake it harder to try and get some of the water off it. You don't know how rain always feels so much colder and wetter than regular water, but you can feel it drip off you thickly. Gaz laughs, it sounds like chocolate. You don't- you don't know how to describe it. It's like chocolate. Rich and sweet, but dark with a hint of bitterness that makes you want to hear it again and again. You find yourself staring at him, pushing your hair off your forehead to stop the water from rolling down into your eyes. Already you've had to blink away the drops that settled on your lashes.

"Didn't bring my umbrella," you explain. Gaz nods, the cocks his head back towards the shop door.

"S'why I stopped in for one."

"Smart, don't know why I didn't think of that." You watch the rain fall for a moment, before you're struck with recollection. "We live in the same building right?" Gaz hums.

"You knocked on my door for a cuppa once." You nod and he shifts his grip on the umbrella, holding it between you. "You asking to share?"

"Could save me a few pounds," You're only half joking, stepping closer until your shoulder brushes his.

"What if I'm not headed for the tube?" You look up at Gaz, watch him cock a brow curiously. He never loses his smile. Something itches in the back of your mind, warning you against friendly strangers. Something else quiets it, pets the scared animal into submission with that soft echoing whisper: Gaz, Gaz, Gaz.

"Then you can just drop me off at the nearest station and be on your way," you reason. That seems to amuse him, something sparking in his eyes that lights up his smile. He's warm. Green. Natural. You can smell the dirt of a nearby flower pot, the dust of the city. Petrichor, your brain supplies. The smell of dust after rain.

Mentally you kick yourself. From a fucking Doctor Who episode ya numpty. Trying to sound poetic when you're just quoting a damn- and it's not even an episode you liked! Ugh.

Gaz taps your forehead, two gentle taps that make you blink. There's something familiar in the gesture, friendly in a way that's overly friendly for how close you aren't.

"Looked like you were getting lost in there," he says when you smack your hand against the tapped skin.

"Well throw down a rope then," you grumble. Your therapist is right you gotta start being more present. This is why you get caught in the rain, too busy day dreaming.

"How about I get you home first," Gaz jokes.

"Just to the station is fine," you tell him, hurrying to stay under the umbrella as he starts walking. Gaz shrugs, the umbrella shifts, and you press closer to avoid soaking your shoulder a second time.

"I'm going home anyway, may as well take you with me."

You roll your eyes. An alarm bell rings in the back of your mind, smothered by a thick magic that whispers to you: Gaz, Gaz, Gaz.

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #1fae1 #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz modern warfare #gaz garrick #gaz cod #gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #gn!reader #oc: sunshine #fae!gaz #ooooh sunny hes getting his claws in you #insidious magic this man weaves #im already in his car

[beenbaanbuun]

the ghost - opposites attract universe

in front of the fire stands a broad shouldered man dressed in furs, staring down at your rug as if it means just as much to him as it does you. you don’t recognise him as a friend of your lovers, although it’s possible that you just haven’t met this one yet. you wrack your brain for names they might have mentioned, but each one that pops up in your mind is someone you’ve met before. that means that this man is a stranger.

you want to call out to him, ask him what the fuck he was doing in your home. perhaps you’d grab yeosang’s attention at the same time; the werewolf may be just a few steps behind you, but he is surprisingly unaware of his surroundings. maybe he’d leap into action, chase the intruder out of the house. but then you blink and the man is gone, completely vanished like he’s some sort of…

ghost…

“did you just see that?” you ask yeosang, the werewolf slowly coming to a stop behind you with a strip of jerky hanging lazily between his lips. he really hasn’t been paying attention to much other than the way your hair shines prettily under the dim candles that light the home, so it’s safe to say that he has no idea what it is you’re talking about. he gives you a questioning hum as he rips the jerky with his teeth.

“see what?” his voice is muffled by the meat that he insists on chewing as he speaks. the sound of his lips smacking sends an unsatisfying shiver down your spine, and your mouth tugs into a frown.

“so i guess the answers no?” you scoff, crossing your arms in irritation, “some guard dog you are; i don’t think you’d be able to spot an intruder if he came up to you and gave you a handshake!”

yeosang doesn’t respond to your insult, merely rolling his eyes before tugging you over to jongho, the rug, to cuddle. always so dramatic, he thinks to himself as he flops onto the floor and gestures for you to join him. you do, lying straight on his chest in a way that seems to force all the air out of his lungs. normally, he’d pin you for that, holding you to the floor until you’re promising him to be more gentle through your honestly insulting giggles. though, he finds that with the lack of air in his lungs, it’s rather difficult to flip the two of you over. next time, he concludes before wrapping his tail protectively around your thigh.

a few hours later, you find yourself in the greenhouse with seonghwa, watching the graceful man tend to his plants as he hums out a pretty tune. yeosang is long gone, deciding to take some alone time after listening to you ramble about your most recent interest, book binding, for as long as he could stand to. he gave you some fake excuse of needing to ask hongjoong about something, but you aren’t quite dumb enough to believe that. especially when you watched him walk in the opposite direction of the office you knew your daddy was in.

still, you don’t really mind having your time away from your friend. it gives you the opportunity to spend time with your lovers without the grumpy mutt offering his snarky comments every few sentences.

“hey, seonghwa?” you say, voice lilting with curiosity as you push yourself up to sit on his work bench. there’s a grimace on his face as he watches your thighs press down against the dirt covered wood, the compost and debris no doubt rubbing into the material of your denim shorts. its fine, he tells himself; it’ll come out with a little manpower… hopefully.

“what is it, lamb?” seonghwa hums as he tugs his cotton gardening gloves from his hands and lays them perfectly straight on the table. his fingertips are painted with a deep shake of purple today, done by hongjoong’s fair hands just the night before. as he lays a hand on your exposed thigh, you can’t help but think that the colour looks pretty against your skin.

“do you think ghosts are real?”

the question takes seonghwa by surprise, you can see by the way his eyes go wide and his blinks slow for just a moment or two. he lets out an inquisitive hum, lips pursing slightly as he tries to think of an answer.

“well, i know they’re real,” seonghwa purrs as he gently spreads your thighs, stepping between them so he can look you in the eyes. he’s pretty from this close up—not that he isn’t always pretty—with his wide eyes twinkling and pink lips so beautifully plush. you so badly want to steal a kiss from him, but you also want to know the answer to your question. you hold back for now; there’ll be plenty of time for kissing later. “why are you asking?”

you almost tell him, but just before the words fall from your lips, you hold back. perhaps telling one of your lovers that you saw a man in their living room would be cause for concern. whilst you’re almost entirely convinced that he was a ghost, the only proof you have is that one moment he was there and the next he wasn’t. it’s very plausible that he was just really good at hiding, or maybe he was just a figment of your imagination. if either of those turn out to be the case, seonghwa will worry. you don’t want that, so you keep your theory to yourself.

“i’m just curious, hwa,” you offer him a smile, but you can tell he sees through it. he gives you a low hum, a single eyebrow cocking an question. the fake smile remains on your face, so he lets it go, understanding that he’s not going to get the truth out of you so easily.

“well, what do you want to know, my darling lamb?” he asks, using a long finger to hook some hair behind your ear, “you never know, i might just have the answers, hm?” the same hand settles on your cheek, palm cupping your face like you’re the most precious thing on earth.

you pause for a moment. what do you want to know about ghosts? you’d come to seonghwa with just the one question in mind; did they exist? he’d answered that one with ease and now you’re stuck on where to go next. realistically, you should probably focus on trying to find out whether the man in the living room was one or not; how on earth are you supposed to do that without revealing the truth?

seonghwa chuckles as he watches your expression contort onto one of concentration. it’s adorable, the way that your worry lines look between your brows. the way you tug on your bottom lip with your teeth, the white enamel now lined with the pretty pink gloss you reapplied not too long ago. if he didn’t think you looked entirely too cute like that, perhaps he’d tell you about it so you could wipe it away. for now, though, he’s happy to sit and bask in your sweetness.

“what’s so difficult about thinking up a question?” seonghwa leans forward to place a kiss to the tip of your nose when he finds that he can no longer hold himself back. the grin on his face as he pulls away is wide. “i can think of a million off the top of my head.”

you me face relaxes as he teases you. a deadpan glare is thrown in his direction, but it does nothing to faze him. he’s still watching you like you hold the world in your hands.

“like what?” you retaliate, mock annoyance laced through your tone.

“like,” he pauses for a second, pouting as he sorts through the wide array of cryptid knowledge that’s stored itself in his brain. you can practically see the lightbulb pop up above his head a few seconds later as he lands on something. “how do ghosts come into existence?”

“someone dies?” you shrug, and seonghwa lets out a chuckle.

“yes, but it’s so much more than that, lamb,” he smiles. there’s a hint of amusement in his face with the way the corners of his lips tilt up, but you ignore it in favour of looking into his adoring eyes. they’re mostly pupil, and the way the light bounces off of them causes them to shine like a hunk of whitby jet. you suck in a deep breath as you try to calm your racing heart. it almost aches with how much you love him. “if you died right now, there would have to be some sort of physical remains tying you to the real world; a lock of hair, or a splatter of blood.”

or the skin of an onikuma…

oh…

“jongho,” you mutter under your breath, suddenly feeling your chest grow tight at the realisation.

“your rug?” seonghwa tilts his head, “what about it?”

you gulp down the lump in your throat, letting it sit in your stomach as an uneasy ball of emotions instead. you don’t have the time nor energy to sift through them or unpack each of them individually. you’re so close to reaching the bottom of the mystery you’d stumbled upon; you won’t let feelings fuck it up now.

“he’s a demon,” you say, looking into seonghwa’s eyes for confirmation. he nods, “and hongjoong said demons have human forms too?”

“sometimes,” seonghwa concludes, “the onikuma… it’s probable that he disguised himself as a villager from time to time. it would’ve helped him scope his hunting ground better.”

jongho probably had a human form. that ball of emotions—is that excitement?—grows bigger.

“and if you were to kill a onikuma and, i don’t know, keep its hide as a trophy, would he come back as a ghost? do demons even have souls? do you even need a soul to be a ghost? what exactly is a soul?”

a hand slips over your racing mouth, effectively cutting your rambles short, shutting you up. seonghwa relaxedly sighs at the moment of peace.

“not even i understand the ins and outs of everything, my silly little lamb,” he snickers, a teasing smirk playing on his lips, “but i do think i understand what you’re trying to ask in your odd, roundabout way.” he pauses to slowly pull his hand away from your lips. his actions say that he trusts you to remain silent, the pace he’s going at tells you that he’s prepared to put his hand right back where it was if you start rambling again. it pleases him to see your lips sealed in a thin, annoyed line. he hums in amusement, “you know, your precious onikuma will probably come back if you call for him; ghosts like to know that the living still have a need for them.”

“you think?” you ask. seonghwa presses another short kiss to your lips, barely giving you time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away again.

“i know,” he murmurs, “now, go and talk to your bear; leave me to work in peace!”

——————————————

that’s how you end up back in the living room, cross legged on jongho’s back like you have been so many times before. the fire crackles behind you, filling the otherwise silent room with the comforting sound of burning wood. you take a deep breath through your nose, pushing it out through your mouth as you try and expel the anxiety that’s muddled itself with the excitement in your stomach.

“jongho?” you say, speaking the name given to him by you; his real name remained a mystery to you. there’s a cold blast of air behind you, and your neck twists at a whiplash pace, eyes landing on the fireplace. there’s nothing there but the white-hot logs and the flames dancing back and forth across them. it must’ve been a gust of wind down the chimney or something. nothing to frighten you at all.

you huff out a breath of relief before letting your head twist slowly back around…

“is that me?” a voice says as your eyes make contact with a pair of pupils that sit a little too close to be comfortable. you scramble back, a little squeak coming from your lips as you move away from the figure that has appeared in front of you. you come to a step just a foot or two away, chest heaving at the sudden fright the man had given you. if it weren’t for the mop of fuzzy brown hair that resembled the fur on your favourite rug a little too closely to be coincidence perhaps you’d have screamed for help. “jongho, i mean… is that my name?”

he tilts his head like a confused animal, tugging at the brown fur hide that rests upon his shoulders as if the action brings him some sort of comfort. and as you look into his eyes, you realise that he probably needs it. they’re wet, glittering with unshed tears of confusion and stress. he keeps blinking them away, but they come back almost instantly. it’s no surprise to you when the first one rolls down his cheek. he wastes no time in wiping it away.

“does that upset you?” you ask, cautiously, “that i’ve given you a name?”

he shakes his head vigorously.

“i’ve never had a name before,” he clarifies; the thought makes your chest ache. to be given a name is to be loved and this poor creature has none. no names, and therefore no love. you think for a moment about how long he’s lived with no love, but it only makes it hurt more. he was slain hundreds of years ago, and he was probably alive for hundreds more. your eyes begin to burn so you push that thought deep down inside of you. “jongho is a nice one to have as my first.”

your heart breaks for the creature. you’d have to have a talk with hongjoong later; how cruel of him to let his resident ghost go uncared for for so long.

“it is,” you try not to take notice of how strained your voice sounds, “and its yours; you’re jongho, if you’d like be.

the man nods, although the tension in his body doesn’t seem to seep away just yet. his shoulders are still hunched up by his ears, and his fingers still twirl the fur he’s wearing mindlessly. you find yourself grateful that it’s just you and him; you can’t bear to think how nervous he’d be if there was a werewolf looming over your shoulder.

“and… who are you?” he asks shyly, and you take a moment to think. within a few seconds, you settle on an answer and smile to yourself.

“a friend,” you reply.

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #yeosang x reader #matz x reader #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #opposites attract universe #poly ateez #poly ateez x reader

[gremlingottoosilly]

Crybaby!Reader that constantly tries to hide from Slasher!Konig

Konig finds you by the traces of your tears. By the little sobs and hiccups, he can hear from around the corner. From your little form, squish it into a ball and put it somewhere in the tight spot. Always gets you before you could get stuck and hurt yourself for real. Tears are making you half blind, and he has to haul you over his shoulder with. tight squeeze of your ass. Has to force you to finally shut up your whining and be a good victim. God, how fucking much he adores your tear-strained face and the wet of your cheeks. Sometimes Konig likes to play with you. Put you into a forest with nothing but his shirt and some boxer briefs on, getting your feet into a much bigger boots, pairs of socks tucked inside so you could walk. Makes you run, knowing that you'd fall somewhere half on the way, that you'd try to scream and cry for help, but no one would came. You would trip over a random stone on the ground and fall, calling for Konig instead. Like a properly trained puppy, you always return to your owner when you're hurt. Push your wet face in his chest and sob all the way to his house. Grasp his hand and squeeze your face against the rough skin. Crying so much, you're dehydrated after, and Konig has to feed you sport drinks. Drop by drop. Sometimes he doesn't let you go immediately. Sometimes he grabs you by your hips as you got stuck in something, desperately trying to wiggle your way out - and then he would spread your legs as much as he can, pushing his cock in your wet, warm pussy. Sometimes he would laugh and spank you a little, listening to your sobs as you beg him to let you cum - or to let you go. He doesn't quite know, not yet, at least. Always humiliating you, saying just how adorable you look with your wet pussy dripping on the ground - he fucking adores you, his little victim. As much as you might hate to admit it.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #slasher!konig #slasher

[youronlydarlin]

drooling, begging, scratching at your door for more loser simon content

warning: ooc Simon cus he's a loser here, cum brained Si, you're kinda a slut in this one sorry, readers gender not specified, overstimulation, sub–ish but also kinda not really Si??

Loser! Simon who was actually supposed to be a one night stand only. Hell, if it weren't for your wandering eyes catching sight of him half chubbed up in his pants you would've never agreed. You don't just go around accepting any lay that comes your way. It pays to be a careful slut, yeah? But he's eager, too eager. Back straightening at all the sudden attention he's getting from pretty lil you. And you are pretty. So pretty in fact, that Johnny caught him eyeing you from across the bar. The man playfully nudging him in the elbow, followed by a wink and a whistle. "Go get 'em, LT.." at this point Loser! Simon knew he was caught. so what was the point of hiding it any longer...?

Loser! Simon who told himself that this was only gonna lead to rejection. That he'd just end up drinking whatever he bought for this incredibly attractive stranger. Color him surprised when you actually laughed at his jokes. sneakily raking your eyes up and down his frame like a predator toying with prey. At some point you've started massaging his thigh and Simon internally beats himself up for not thinking ahead of this. You're voice is so fucking hot though, that's for sure.

He's cute, yeah. The way he acts as if you're the one asking for sex is endearing but overall pretty boring. Kicking it up a notch, you do a risky move. Unsure if it's too much and he ends up deciding to forfeit and blue ball himself tonight. Leaning in close, you whisper something filthy in his ear. Surprised at just how quickly the bulge in his pants started to grow, what caught you off guard is how he's holding on so tightly to your waist now. Cheeky. Since when did he wrap his arms around you?

And that brings us to now.

You, bent over some grimy concrete wall at the back of this shoddy ass bar. Seems he was to impatient to get to a motel or something because he's jackhammering into you without a care in the world. Or a thought at that. It's like his hips move on their own, cock spearing you so impossibly deep that you feel him bulge through your stomach. The skin stretching, struggling to keep him all in.

Loser! Simon doesn't know what he's doing with his hands, he knows he should stabilize your position so he wraps his arms around your middle. Keeping you pressed up against him and the sensation is dizzying, the way it feels like he's consumed you body and soul. He has you trapped and overstimulated without meaning too. All he knows is that you're nearly screaming with pleasure, writhin' n squirmin' all cute. Mouth hanged open and tongue lolling out. He wants to kiss you. Wants your hot mouth on his. So he presses himself a little closer, hitting a little deeper than necessary and all of a sudden his plan to steal a quick kiss like a little shit has you reeling back ang cumming your brains out. You make a mess im return, hole getting tighter and tighter until you're milking Si all of he's worth. "Shit. Shit, shit– cumming. Sorry, m' cumming, cum– Fuckk." He reaches his peak and what feels like euphoria. Flooding your hole with hot, sticky cum. And you find yourself being tipped over the edge a second time.

Loser! Simon who just pants about you, you groan at the creeping feeling of soreness in your body and Si thinks you might be feeling uncomfortable. Pulling his now soft cock out of your used hole. The breeze hitting your sensitive spots make you hiss, followed by a whimper as you feel the evidence of tonights rendezvous flow out and trickle down your thighs. Not a another second passes by before you feel the comfortable weight of a jacket being wrapped over your form. He helps you up on shaky legs and offers to take you back to his place. Looking for a round 2?

a/n: this is shitty but m' horny so eh, m' so sorry that this took so long anon 😭 trying to clear out my inbox y'all. Double upload yeyy, this was still kinda bad, still trying to get back in the zone

Yours, truly,

–Dolly

#cod x reader #cod imagine #call of duty x reader #cod x reader smut #call of duty x you #cod smut #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader smut #x male reader #x gn reader #x female reader

[dolldefiler]

[Requested in an ask. I swear I'd written something like this before but I spent 10 minutes looking for it and I figured it'd just be faster to write something new. Apologies for the reused concept.]

C/W: Rape, obsessive love

You'd wake up on your belly in the darkness, a foreign object impaling your pussy, filling you out. You'd feel the weight of someone on you, pressing you against a soft mattress with every thrust. Frozen, you'd lay still, but he would know.

You'd feel his fingers slide into your mouth in way that didn't let you bite down. "You're awake." You would freeze. It couldn't be. "FUCK, it's like you're gripping on me. You wanted this as well, didn't you? Didn't you?"

You would hear my voice. The voice of your best friend. The same best friend that had looked after you when you were drunk. That had been a shoulder to cry on. The same best friend that had kidnapped you and was now raping you.

"Every time you came crying to me, my heart burned and boiled. I would kill for you. They could never treat you the way I treat you. The way you're meant to be treated." I'd punctuate each word with feverish thrusts of my hip. You'd feel my cock tear you up inside as tears trickle down your face. You'd been betrayed by a psychotic bastard that you thought you could trust.

You'd hear me groan and grunt while I use your terrified little cunt, sounds you'd never dreamt of hearing from me. "I'm. Doing. This. For. You." I would say, anger and frustration leaking into my voice. "I'm so much better than those pricks. I'll love you in ways they couldn't. I'll fuck you brainless. I'll protect you and love you and HURT YOU if you need it."

You'd groan into the mattress, struggling against me. Would you get wet for me? Would your cunt start to drool because of your rape kink? Or would you try to stop me, to bite me, to kill me? You'd feel me push your head into your pillow and suddenly you'd find yourself without air. You'd scream into your pillow, feeling your hot, angry tears leak into the fabric.

Distant words about the sloppiness of your cunt, the sluttiness of your body, what you do and don't deserve would pass through your ears. You needed air that would not come. You'd pass out soon. Did you truly deserve this? Probably not. But I would stretch out every one of your stupid, pathetic little fuckholes until you understood you'd found the right guy. You were just too fucking stupid to know it at the time.

#rapekink #r@pedoll #r@pe fantasy #r@pe kink #r@pe k!nk #r@pe play #r@petoy #obsessive love #rough #cnc k!nk #cnc somno #somno k!nk #cnc kidnapping #kidnap fantasy #dark kinks

[scalingsvt8thusiast]

Wait for your love Pt 3

summary: you wait in silence, waiting for wonwoo to finally love you

inspired by Ariana Grande's We Can't be Friends (AKA Wait for your love)

a/n: as promised the final part of wait for your love :D literally just finished it. Enjoy 💞

Don’t wanna feed this monstrous fire

On a bright Saturday morning, you found yourself nestled in a booth opposite Chan.  A week into your move, Chan was finally able to convince you to join him at a nearby cafe for lunch. He  insisted that this cafe was “hidden” and such a “hole in the wall” that someone cool like you-know-who would never step within 5 feet of the place.

Chan sipped his ice americano silently, thinking of the best way of approaching the topic of you-know-who. He was becoming increasingly concerned about your maladaptive habits: barely eating meals, sleeping less than 4 hours each night and studying every waking moment. That wasn’t even the scariest part, the scariest was when he’d catch you staring into space, as if your soul had left your body.  

You were too busy admiring at your iced latte to notice a familiar figure walking pass the window adjacent to your table.

Chan, however, immediately noticed his tall friend. He prayed to all the gods that his friend was too tall to see anybody. Sadly his prayer went unanswered

Kim Mingyu immediately doubled back when he noticed his two friends sitting by the window. His eyes met Chan’s. Chan tilted his head towards you and shook his head. 

Now to any normal person, that would have meant do not come over. 

Clearly, Mingyu was anything but normal. 

“Y/n! Dino!”

Mingyu’s voice pulled you out of the staring contest you were having with your latte. You looked up to find the tall man sliding himself into the booth, shoulder to shoulder with Dino. The massive grin on his face almost blinding you. 

Dino nudged Mingyu hard on the shoulder. “Bro, what are you doing here?”

Here being halfway across town from where Mingyu lived. 

“Basketball!” Mingyu beamed at the younger man, “I’m meeting the others at a court nearby! Won- FUCK!” 

Chan dug his heel into Mingyu’s toe, keeping a smile on his face.

You jumped, startled by Mingyu’s sudden outburst. “Are you alright?”

“Dino just-,”

“He just hit is knee on the table,” Chan gave Mingyu a warning look as he pushed his foot down harder. “Long legs can be such a curse huh, bro?” 

Mingyu pulled his foot away and glared at Chan.

You blinked at the odd behaviour from your friends. 

Your eyes met Mingyu’s, you sent him a small smile before returning to stare at your latte. 

Mingyu noticed the stark contrast from your usual bubbly self. From memory, you were the girl who offered him a cup of coffee when he dragged Wonwoo’s drunk ass home at 5AM in the morning. Mingyu remembered you pestering him to send you a text when he got home so that you would know he was safe. You, who was barely his shoulder height, were worried for a tall, muscular boy like him. 

Mingyu looked at Chan and gestured towards the door. Chan nodded. 

“Sorry y/n, I’m just gonna talk to Gyu about something.” Chan spoke gently. 

“Male stuff.” Mingyu nodded as he slid out of the seat. 

They were both pretty sure your soul wasn’t even in your body at the moment from how you blankly nodded. 

Mingyu and Chan stood outside the cafe, making sure not to be in your line of sight. 

Mingyu crossed his arms. “What happened?”

“You don’t know? Wonwoo didn’t tell you?”

“I’m seeing him for the first time today.” Mingyu explained. “He’s been refusing to leave the house.”

“He busy fucking other girls?” Chan sneered. 

“I-,” Mingyu stopped, taken aback. “What?” 

“Bro. Come on.” 

“I genuinely have no idea what you are talking about.” Mingyu said as he held his hands up. 

Chan stared at the taller man for a few seconds and sighed. 

“Don’t tell anybody what I’m about to tell you.”

As you sat waiting for Chan, droplets of water began appearing on the table. 

You furrowed your brows. 

Was the ceiling leaking? 

You looked up only to feel tears rolling down your cheeks. 

You brought you hand up to your face. 

Ah, you were crying.

The tears continued. Just like your memories of Wonwoo.

“God,” You muttered, reaching for a bunch of tissues. “I’m pathetic.”

“Why can’t it be me?” You whispered as sobs started leaving your mouth. 

“Why am I so unlovable?” 

You tried to be as silent as possible, covering your face with your hands. 

That’s how Chan found you when he came back. 

He quickly guided you home. Hoping to hell that Wonwoo would stub his toe against a particular hard piece of furniture.

Me and my truth (again)

Wonwoo watched Vernon argue with Soonyoung as they threw the ball back and forth, Jeonghan stood in between the two of them mediating the argument. He wasn’t sure what they were arguing about, for all he cared they could plotting a bank robbery.

He brought his eyes down to this palms. A small smile on his face as he remembered the first time you held his hand. 

The two of you were rushing to catch the train. Back then he was still around your height and you were still much faster than him. He lagged behind you, huffing and puffing as you ran ahead. He stopped to catch his breath, bending over and placing his hands on his knees. 

You had turned back to check on him. Once you were sure he was fine, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into another sprint. Flashing him a grin. 

For the rest of the day his face was burning hot. When you asked him about it, he just blamed it on his poor stamina. He didn’t want to be that loser that got flustered when a girl touched him. He was. But at least he hoped he didn’t seem that way to you. 

“JEON WONWOO!” 

A red-faced Mingyu was storming towards him. 

Mingyu grabbed Wonwoo by the collar and lifted him up from his sitting position.

Wonwoo blinked, “What-,”

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Mingyu snarled. “I thought you were in love with y/n?”

“I am! What on earth-,”

“Then why’d you sleep with another girl?” Mingyu bellowed, tightening his grip on Wonwoo’s collar. 

Audible gasps could be heard from Soonyoung and Vernon as they abandoned their argument. Jeonghan’s eyes were as wide as saucers. 

Not waiting for a reply, Mingyu pushed Wonwoo to the ground. 

“It didn’t mean anything.” Wonwoo retorted, adjusting his glasses.

“Not to y/n it didn’t!” Mingyu fumed.

“I wanted to talk to her about it! She left before I could!” Wonwoo reasoned from his position on the ground.

“Did you ever try to reach her? Try to find her?” Mingyu fumed, “No! All you’ve been doing is rot at home while she’s crying everyday at Chan’s place!”

Wonwoo mouth fell open. You were crying?

“Mingyu that’s enough.” Jeonghan placed a hand on Mingyu’s shoulder, he had to stop this before it turned into a full blown fight. 

“You better fix yourself,” Mingyu pointed a shaky finger at Wonwoo, “before you completely lose her.”

I’m still here hanging

After the event at the cafe, you decided you weren’t ready to leave the house. Or your room for that matter. 

You gave Chan free reign over your door. He’d pop his head in and out of your room, sometimes leaving the door open even if all you were doing was lying on the floor. Chan would bring food into your room, trying to coax you into eating even if all you could manage was one or two spoonfuls. 

Minghao came over more often, bringing with his snacks from China and various tea leaves. 

“Let’s do some therapy!” 

“What?” 

“I read this thing online,” Minghao started, “it’s you burn all the stuff you have that reminds you of the person causing you pain.” 

You stared at him like he’d grown a second head.

“According to Reddit, it works.” Minghao crossed his arms and nodded. He would do anything to try to get you to leave your room. 

“Firstly, I’m not into trusting strangers on Reddit.” You turned back to the ceiling. “Secondly, burning things and the environment are a no-no for me.” 

“Well, good to know you love the environment.” Minghao muttered as he sipped his tea. 

A loud knock came from the front door.

“Were you expecting someone?” Minghao asked. 

“No, you?”

“No.”

It was a relatively safe neighbourhood, but you never knew who would want to rob poor Lee Chan and his collection of electric shavers in the bathroom. Minghao picked up a frying pan and headed to the door. 

“Who is it?” Minghao sang. 

Hearing no answer, Minghao held up the frying pan with one hand and swung the door open with the other. He came face to face with Jeon Wonwoo. 

Wonwoo eyes were wide. “Hao?”

Minghao didn’t lower the pan, maybe he should whack the boy. Sure, Chan’s collections of razors were safe, but you weren’t.

“I come in peace I swear.” Wonwoo held up his hand. 

“Debatable.” Minghao muttered, “Why are you here?” 

“Is y/n here?” Wonwoo got straight to the point.

“What if she is?” 

“I just need to talk to her.”

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” Minghao crossed his arms.

“Please,” Wonwoo was not above begging when it came to you. “If you’d just let me explain to her-,”

“Hao?” Wonwoo’s ears immediately perked up at your voice. “Who is it?” 

“Please.” Wonwoo whispered.

Minghao stared at Wonwoo for what seemed like ages before letting out a sigh. 

“30 minutes.”

“Thank you!” Wonwoo’s lips stretched into a grin.

“But if I hear anything I don’t like, I’m coming straight back in with this pan.”

It’s something like a daydream

“Hao?” 

You sat up when you didn’t hear a reply from your friend. Was he murdered by the robbers? You knew Chan’s collection of razors were well sought after but you didn’t expect people were willing to kill for it. 

Wrapping yourself up in a blanket, you stepped out of your room. 

“Hao?” You called out again, making your way towards the living room. 

Instead of Minghao, there was a familiar boy in the living room. 

You froze.

“Wonwoo.” You whispered. 

“Y/n.” Wonwoo breathed. 

You were both relieved and anxious. Relieved because it wasn’t some random stranger, anxious because it was Wonwoo. 

You cleared your throat. “Where’s Hao?” 

“In the hallway,” Wonwoo answered. 

“Oh.” 

“Can we talk?” Wonwoo said, sounding almost hopeful. 

“Sure.” 

You made no move to the couch or towards him. You remained standing in the hallway. Partially because you didn’t expect him to stay long, partially because you didn’t trust yourself not to burst into tears. 

Wonwoo’s shoulders fell when he realised you were just going to stand there. Just a year ago he was able to anticipate your every want and need. It was shameful that now he couldn’t get a read on what you were thinking or feeling. 

Wonwoo took a deep breath and began.

“I’m sorry for treating you the way I did. You shouldn’t have to come and pick me up when I’m drunk at a party.” He paused and waited for your reply. 

When nothing came he continued. “I’m so sorry for not speaking to you at home or in school. It wasn’t my intention to hurt your feelings. I just didn’t know how to face you after-,” Wonwoo’s face turned red. “-after kissing you.”

“The night that I brought a girl home.”

You stiffened. 

“I swear I wasn’t in my right mind. I was drunk and I don’t remember anything from the night before. I promise it didn’t mean anything, I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings.”

Wonwoo eyes searched your face, “Please, y/n, you have to believe me.” 

After a long period of silence, you finally spoke. 

“It’s fine Wonwoo, you don’t have to apologise.” 

Your voice was devoid of emotion. 

It wasn’t Wonwoo’s fault you couldn’t control your feelings. You were just unlucky to have fallen for him. 

Wonwoo blinked. 

“If that’s all you came to say,” You forced a smile before turning back towards your room. “I’m really tired so if you could please leave.”

“No, wait!” Wonwoo closed the distance between the two of you.

He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him. You were so shocked you dropped your blanket to the ground. You were basically nose to nose with Wonwoo right now.

“Please.” He begged, “Please come back home.” 

“Wonwoo,” You whispered, tears threatening to slip out of your eyes. “I don’t think I can live with you anymore.”

The way he was holding you, the way he was speaking to you. The false hope that grew in your heart every time Wonwoo gave you the time of day. This was the reason why you couldn’t live with him anymore. 

It hurts to know he would never love you the way you loved him. 

It hurts to know you would never be enough for him.

“Wonwoo-,” your voice broke, fresh tears started rolling down your cheeks.

“Y/n, please,” Wonwoo begged, “tell me what I can do to make you come home.” 

“Wonwoo, I-,”

“Please, y/n.”

“I can’t go with you because I’m in love with you.” 

“I-,” Wonwoo paused, “What?” 

“I know you don’t see me that way and that’s completely fine.” You blubbered, “Just please don’t make me live with you. I can’t go through that again-,” 

Wonwoo kissed you. Completely sober this time. 

He pulled back to look at you. 

Your eyes were wide, still sniffling from crying. 

“I love you too.” He said, resting his forehead on yours as he stared into your eyes. 

This was the best day of his life. 

“What?” You whispered in disbelief, was this some sort of cruel joke?

“Been in love with you since the day you sat with me in school.” He confirmed.

“But Wonwoo, that was the first day you met me.” You said softly, as Wonwoo used his thumb to wipe away your tears.

“I guess it is.” He whispered. “I’ve loved you since day one.” 

“Are you kidding me?” You said in mock annoyance. “If you had told me sooner, we wouldn’t have to go through all this.”

Wonwoo didn’t really care about all that, right now he was just happy to have you in his arms again, the fact that you loved him back made the moment all so much sweeter. 

“I can tell you again.” Wonwoo suggested with a nod. 

He began peppering kisses all over your face. With each kiss he’d stare into your eyes and very seriously say “I love you” before moving onto another site. 

You giggled at Wonwoo’s silly antiques. 

When he had finally decided you had enough of his love, he tried again. 

“Please come home.” 

You eyed him hesitantly.

“Y/n, I will personally pack all your stuff up here and bring it over. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

You gave him a real genuine smile. “Of course I’ll move back with you.”

Wonwoo’s face lit up, he looked like a kid who’s Christmas came early.

“Ok guys, I’m coming back in!” Minghao’s voice came from the other side of the door. “I swear if you guys are doing any hanky panky in there you two better stop it!” 

You and Wonwoo exchanged amused looks before bursting out into laughter. 

Wonwoo vowed to spend the rest of his life making up for all that he had done and for all the time you two had lost. He thanked whoever or whatever made you sit next to him that fateful day in high school. Most of all he’d spend his days showering you with love and affection until you physically and mentally couldn’t stand it anymore. 

a/n: hope it wasn't too bad, was rushing cause i want to sleep soon. always open to comments and criticism!! 💗

#jeon wonwoo #wonu #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen jeon wonwoo #seventeen wonu #svt wonwoo #svt jeon wonwoo #svt wonu #wonwoo #wonwoo fic #wonu fic #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x y/n #wonwoo x you #wonu x reader #wonu x y/n #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #jeon wonu #svt fanfic #svt fic #svt x reader #svt fluff #seventeen #svt #seventeen fic #svt imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff

[darby-rowe]

🪽; ellie williams sometimes lets her adrenaline take over

18+ | nsfw | mdni

cw dirty talk, wall fucking, toys (strap-on)

“fuckin’ needed this,” ellie rasps, her breaths leaving her lips in heavy sighs as she focuses all her energy into holding you up against the scratchy wall. you can feel your back knocking against the hard architecture of the building you two found yourselves in, but you’re already so dumb and drunk on ellie’s cock you pay no mind to it.

your legs are locked tight around ellie’s waist with your hands on her shoulders, and her hands are supporting your weight as she fucks up into you hard. her words are so filthy, her thrusts powerful — it’s honestly impressive how she hasn’t run out of stamina.

“needed to fuck you like this,” she tells you, voice breathless and deep. “can barely have any time to ourselves. just had to have you. felt as if i’d die if i didn’t fuck this pussy right away,”

from an outsider’s perspective, it’s almost silly to have a strap-on harness and a five-inch silicone dick in a backpack full of essential items for survival. a spread of knives and guns right next to a sex toy. but in moments like these, where the two of you can be semi-normal in a world that’s abnormal — so shamelessly dirty and horny and perverted — it just feels right.

“look at’chu, pretty girl,” ellie coos, admiring the way in which your eyebrows draw tightly together and your lips part to elicit filthy, melodic moans. “such a shame no one’s around to hear how good i’m fucking you, huh? you’d like that; letting everyone know how much of a little slut you are for me? c’mon, say it. say you’re a little slut,”

it takes extra effort, but you manage to babble something along the lines of calling yourself a slut. you had to admit it to yourself — you sounded dumb and completely fucked out. but judging by the way ellie grins at you, your answer is more than sufficient.

she fucks you deep until you’re cumming all over her cock, eyes going glassy as they roll back into your head. you can barely comprehend the filth pouring from ellie’s lips.

“that’s it, baby. cum all over this cock for me. such a good girl, taking me so well. fuck,”

and then she kisses you, prolonging this bout of normalcy until the next time you two find yourselves running for your lives.

#♡; dally writes! #spoiler alert i didnt write this w ellie n reader in mind #GIGGLING MISCHIEVOUSLY #tlou2 #tlou2 fanfic #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfic

[kenntolog]

need to know how does cool boyfriend sukuna met loser!gf reader…. and how did sukuna likes her djbekwbsks

𝝑𝝔 an: this is so corny but i hope u like it!! more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here! cw: a lil blood and a minor injury.

i think before meeting loser reader properly, sukuna was like angrier and more intimidating to his surroundings; a constantly irritated expression on his face and ready to curse everyone and everything. these characteristics didn’t seize with the start of your relationship, but they have died down significantly ever since.

so of course, sukuna getting angry about losing a game(yes, him meeting loser reader on the game he lost lol) and the ball in his hand turns into a weapon as he throws it away blindly, not turning around to see what happened even after registering the sound of a loud thud and a round of gasps.

it’s only when uraume, the team’s manager, calls out to him that sukuna’s angry face turns irritated and he rolls his eyes, cursing under his breath, before looking over in their direction.

the view is so unexpected sukuna can barely keep his laughter intact, eyes lazily scanning through the small crowd of people to find you on the previously squeaky clean floor of the court — the victim of his angry fit — with blood gushing out of your nose and face red from crying. it’s such a pitiful sight(he is such a menace) that he just lifts his arms behind his head, locking them in a relaxed manner, and continues staring.

uraume gives him a cold glare, “take her to the nurse’s office.”

the commanding tone of their voice makes him roll his eyes, “tsk. take her yourself.”

“sukuna.”

coach yaga’s voice contains more warning and sukuna groans, holding his hand out for you to take from the fear of being suspended from trainings, which has happened before because of his anger issues.

you look up at him with surprise and gently place your hand in his, not expecting him to tug you up roughly. the walk to the nurse’s is silent, with you occasionally sending shy glances his way while you’re holding a cloth to your nose.

“where the fuck is the nurse?” he asks impatiently, sitting down on the stool while you settle on the examination table.

he doesn’t really care for the answer, but he still hears your meek voice mumbling, “it’s her break time.”

sukuna is too restless to just sit there and wait for the nurse to come back. he shoots up from his spot, looking around for something before he steps closer to the table you’re seated on. the way your eyes widen, body instinctively moving back to avoid his space makes the corners of his lips curl upwards in a satisfied smirk. he makes a point of standing between your knees.

he tugs the bloody cloth out of your hands, ignoring your little ‘hey!’, and cups your jaw a little too roughly, angling your head a bit higher to inspect your nose.

for a totally bleak loser you have a pretty face, he notes in his head, a sight for sore eyes. eyes looking up at his like he’s from the outer world, a little scared and maybe even mesmerised, lips parted slightly with one side covered in dried blood, hair disheveled and eyes still a bit watery. his interest was piqued maybe a just a little.

sukuna tilts your head forward and pinches the soft part of your nose between his thumb and index finger. you hiss in pain, hands flying up to grip his wrist, which makes him roll his eyes.

“tsk, what a crybaby.”

you pout at him, a small whimper escaping you as he continues scanning your face intensely. you mutter something under your breath, looking away from him.

“… didn’t hit me with a ball—”

“what did you say?”

“nothing!”

his grip on your nose tightens and you whine.

“oww~” you pull away from him, hiding your nose from him with a wary look before you quietly confess, “i said if you didn’t hit me with your ball then i wouldn’t be crying, y’know.”

“i didn’t hit you with my ball.”

“eh? you totally did though…”

“i threw my ball and you just fell under it. your fault, loser.”

you stare at him in bewilderment and sukuna doesn’t hide his great amusement. he steps away, lazily looking through cabins; he finds wet wipes and a pack of bandaids. throwing them at you without looking he once again stands in front of you, watching the way you messily wipe the blood from your face.

but he hates when things aren’t neat so he takes the pack of wet wipes from your lap, pulling out one, and cleans the blood where you missed, his free hand on top of your head. he throws it somewhere behind himself and takes the pack of bandaids, picking out the ugliest one in his opinion to plaster it over the little bruise on the side of your nose.

you say ‘thank you’ with a small bow and stumble out of the nurse’s office, tripping over your own feet, while he just stares at you indifferently.

you bake him little cupcakes, not knowing that he isn’t that fond of sweet treats. sukuna still eats them, begrudgingly enjoying their taste.

though he can’t deny that he is amused by you. and that’s how it started, you know, sukuna just being amused with the way you get flustered when making eye contact in the hallways and lecture halls, the way you still always shyly wave at him in greeting, eyes shining a bit brighter when he gives you a little smirk or a nod.

you’re such a loser, sukuna thinks, always so shy around him but also ready to do anything he says. so at first, of course, he thinks of using that obedience for his own benefit, but soon those thoughts leave his mind when sukuna realise how sincere and interesting you are once you really get into the conversation.

what first starts as little jabs(i would say bullying) from him and you getting frustrated with every teasing and insulting word he throws in your address, soon enough transforms into something more; sukuna’s interest only rising along with the adoration that builds up inside his usually unresponsive heart.

#— miya writes! #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna ryomen x reader #jjk sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna jujutsu kaisen #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #jujustsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen

[scoutswritingcorner]

Gala Night

PolyVees x GN!Reader

TW:Valentino. I do not condone his actions at all.

A/N: CHAUFFEUR READER IS MAKING A REAPPEARANCE!!!!

You quickly moved out of the way as a secretary rushed past you holding the phone to your ear as you tried to listen to what Valentino was saying, “Carino~ You wouldn’t mind going to see Velvette before you grab the limo? She has something waiting for you.” He purred through the phone as you tried to rush to the now closing elevator. “Son of a- those bastards.” You hissed out looking around, guess you’ll be running up twenty flights of stairs then wait 5 minutes for the next elevator, “Yes, go see Velvette and then go pick up the limo.” You repeated back to the Overlord who happily hummed before he had to abruptly hang up as he yelled at someone.

You opened the door towards the stairs and growled, Velvette was gonna be pissed at you for being so late but so be it. You started your ascent up the staircase, putting your phone back in your pocket and ignoring how it buzzed with texts from multiple people. Of course, Vox had called you in on the day of one of hell’s special occasions. The Overlords Gala. Where Overlords throughout the whole 7 rings of Hell get together at Lucifer’s palace. You had the day off originally but Valentino got a little mad and killed off the other chauffeur that drove them around that morning so everything was an hour behind, you were still in your pajamas and had barely grabbed your wallet and phone for the day.

It took a few more moments until you were on the twentieth floor, busting through the door and quickly running down the hall towards Velvette’s Fashion Department ignoring the looks of models and random demons in the hallways. As you walked in still out of breath and practically wheezing for breath you could hear Velvette yelling at some poor model before she moved them away. Janette whispering something to her before she whipped her head towards you, “Where the fuck have you been?” She asked storming over as you stood tall, “Running up twenty flights of stairs,” you replied before she rolled her eyes and pulled you towards the podium. Velvette’s eyes stuck to your outfit like glue before her glare darkened and her frown deepened. “What the fuck are you wearing?” She growled out as you looked down at the ‘Voxtech’ shirt and pajama pants you took from the gift basket (one of many) that Vox sent over to your apartment.

“..my pajamas.” You slowly replied before she scoffed and flicked her wrist as your pajamas disappeared and you were fitted in your normal outfit but the subtle difference was it had the V’s logo embroidered on the chest pocket as if they were planning to show you off and you weren’t just gonna drop them off and then go busy yourself with whatever you could find. Velvette walked over and fixed the jacket from looking lopsided, “Don’t run down those fucking stairs. You’ll tear something or fall and we don’t have time to fix another fucking mess.” She said before reaching up to brush your hair back, “Yes ma’am, no running down the stairs.” You repeated watching as a smile replaced the sneer on her lips. She patted your arms and waved you off to go do whatever else you needed to do. 

It didn’t take you long to get down the flight of stairs and down to the parking lot where Vox kept the limo and other cars you were asked to drive. Quickly showing your ID to the scanner on the door, Vox was really careful about everything. Even one small misprint on your ID would send him an alert that someone was breaking in, you walked into the large garage and looked around seeing the limo sitting near the back of the garage. You walked towards it to make sure everything was okay.

It wasn’t until an hour later as you were making sure the inside of the Limo was cleaned and restocked for the three of them that Vox had called you to tell you that they were about to leave. You got situated and drove the limo to the front of the tower ignoring how demons gathered around to see the Vee’s before they left for the Gala. But bodyguards had blocked the crowds as you rushed to the other side and opened the doors for the three Overlords, who looked like they stole a piece of Heaven with their matching outfits. You were not drooling over your bosses, focus. This is a big night and you’d rather not have a bullet in your head before the night is over. Keep your mind from drifting.

The drive was silent and long, only a few times did Valentino bother you which was weird but you didn’t pay attention to it much. As you pulled to a stop at a redlight, you softly tapped on the steering wheel as your eyes drifted around. You were liable to fall asleep if the silence continued like this, it wouldn’t hurt to play some music while they weren’t paying attention to you, maybe it’d get them to relax a bit too..even if they didn’t hear it due to the partition window. You turned the radio on, turning it down so it wouldn’t be too loud for them to hear as you started to drive down the road once more.

It was another few minutes before you drove past the giant golden gates, you felt weird about being around such a place. Especially since this had to be the first Gala in years after The King’s absence, you felt..unworthy of being in such a place. As you pulled to a stop in front of the palace doors, you parked the car and moved to open the door for all three of them. Valentino was first to exit, then followed by Velvette and finally Vox exited the Limo, his arm slinging around your shoulders. “Are you ready for a fun night?” He asked pulling you closer to his form as cameras flashed all around you. You blinked once..twice before it hit you..Vox was talking to you. “W-What?” You asked looking up at his screen seeing his smile grow wide at the question as he closed the limo door with his foot, his arm moving comfortably around your waist.

If you were anyone else there would be a sure chance he would’ve killed you right there for questioning him. But you weren’t anyone else, you were the Vee’s chauffeur. You were under their protection and you weren’t bound by any soul contract, you had free reign to do whatever you wanted. “The party~ You’re our guest~” Valentino cut in gently grabbing your chin and making you look towards him, oh boy the rumors will be running on for days now. You just whispered a soft ‘oh’ before looking away at Velvette who winked at you. 

There goes your plans to go to that diner downtown and eat dinner for cheap.

Taglist: @aboyscriminalrecord cause I know you thrive on the Vees.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #gn reader #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette #the vees x y/n #hazbin hotel vees #poly vees #the vees #valentino x you #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #valentino #vox x you #vox the tv demon #vox x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox