#cast a spell so they never wear out | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

merrinla · 8 months

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Portrait spamming

Recent discovery. If you click on the portraits of the characters like crazy, they will react to it. And the developers had a lot of fun coding these reactions xD

Tav / Dark Urge

normal - I'm awake! Mostly. - I'm starting to get a headache. - Must be the tadpole. - Quit knocking around in there! - A thousand needlepricks in my rotten skull.

combat -Ahhhhhhhh! Okay, I feel better. - I have an itch in the worst place. - Is being a mind flayer so bad? - Just waiting to venture forth here. - I'm maiming as fast as I can!

stealth - What's that ticking? - Is it me? Am I ticking? - Bomb in my head about to go off. Great. - Ah, well. I had a good run.

Astarion

normal - Why do beautiful people taste better? It hardly seems fair on the ugly - they have such wonderful personalities. - Ugh. Strahd wouldn't put up with this shit. - More like Drizzt Don't'Urden - no. No that's not funny. - Villains! Dissemble no more, I admit the deed! Tear up the floor - here, here! It is the beating of his hideous hea- oh, no, that's his brain. Where did I leave that heart?

combat: - I'm trying to focus on murder. - *Humming.* - I shot a svirfneblin in Menzoberranzan just to watch him die. - I should've been a drow. They have such stylish armour.

stealth - Shhh. Just think sneaky thoughts. - Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP. - Be very, very quiet - I'm hunting idiots. - I've got a brand new torture chamber, so come and play with me.

Karlach

normal - NOTE TO ACTOR/DIRECTOR: Blow a raspberry at the player. - Don't. Poke. The Karlach. - Who am I? - My eye!

combat - Eyes on the prize - we need to win this! - Not every soldier should've made it out of training. - Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner. - I ought to just burn this whole thing down.

stealth - My back can't take much more of this. - Not now, I'm being a sneak! - I'm getting too old for this nonsense. - I'm not built to crouch.

Gale

normal - I hope Halaster takes good care of Tara while I'm away. - Sembian wine; Cormyrian boar; Waterdhavian conversation. It's the little things you miss while on the road. - Oh, what a tangled Weave we web! - All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.

combat - Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails. - Don't make me go all Edwin Odesseiron on you. - Get. Out. Of. My. Head. - I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.

stealth - You made me hide, don't make me come seek you. - Gods, it's like trying to sleep with a mosquito in the room. - A little privacy please. - Stop it - that tickles.

Wyll

normal - Could do for a brew. - Where there's a 'Wyll', there's a 'y'. - Ever get the sense that someone's watching? - So two halflings walk under a bar...

combat - Can't hear myself think! - Wear your scars proudly. - As my father once told me: 'Can we get on with it?' - I find moderation is key.

stealth - Bad time for an itch. - Could do for a brew. - So two halflings walk under a bar... - Shush. No, really. Shush.

Lae'zel

normal - Must everyone be so exhausting? - Weapons high. Standards higher. - Is perfection too much to ask? - Pride is a virtue.

combat - I will know my queen! - There is no right or wrong, only truth. - What is the point, if not victory? - You are right to fear me.

stealth - Hush already. - There is no wisdom in madness. - Is perfection too much to ask? - There is but one way. Vlaakith.

Shadowheart

all modes - I wonder how I'll feel when I remember everything. - Strange. I've had more freedom this past while than my whole life... - Have to keep focused. Can't afford to get attached - to anyone. - If I succeed, maybe I'll be allowed a pet... ugh, stop being silly.

Halsin / his voice is currently bugged :(

normal - What I would not give for a chunk of fresh honeycomb... - Such attention... I never realised I was so popular. - Are you feeling lonely, perhaps? - Unwise, perhaps, to poke a bear this much...

сombat - Battle is afoot - you can poke me once we are safe. - Perhaps try attacking the enemy? - Admirable stamina, yet terrible priorities. - You are insistent, are you not?

stealth - Most consider it unwise to poke a bear. - My, you are eager, are you not? - Please. I am trying to be stealthy. - Calm yourself. There is plenty of me to go around.

Jaheira

normal - Oh, calm down. I'm happy to see you too. - I would poke you back, but I fear that's what you want. - My, such strong wrists. - Well you certainly have the 'omnipresent' part down, don't you? - Please go poke the ranger instead.

combat - You have my attention - now do something with it. - What? What do you want!? - Do you know, I begin to wish they had never brought me back. - Yes, yes, have your fun. It isn't you they're trying to kill.

stealth - Dry those sweaty palms and let us try this again, shall we? - Argh, my knees! Oh. It was a twig. - Would that I could hide from you, too. - Careful, or I will take your toy away from you.

Minsc

normal - ARGH! My EYE, Boo! They went for my EYE! - Know that if you poke Boo, no higher dimension will keep you safe! - Heehee. Heeheeheehee. - Well, Boo? How do you want to do this?

сombat - Are you perchance a squeaky wheel in need of a kick? - I am armed! Armoured! And entirely sick of your foolishness. - I begin to grow annoyed. It is well for you that Boo does not let me learn the bad words! - Ignore them, Boo. Let them gaze deep into their own abyss, and wonder just what it is they are trying to achieve.

stealth - A little to the left? But not so hard you make me giggle. - Boo...? Are you dancing down there, or...? - Hush! I am surprising Boo for his birthday! He is... uh... eh... how old do hamsters get...? - I am the night. A pity, then, that it is so bright out.

Minthara

all modes - You had my attention, now you have my fury. - Phlar Lolth ssinssrickla. - Your suffering will be spectacular. - Stop, or die.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #karlach #gale #wyll #lae'zel #shadowheart #halsin #jaheira #minsc #minthara #funny stuff #bg3 datamine

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asterias-record-shop · 21 days

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professor’s favorite girl (r.a.b.)

Everyone knew you were a good student, so it normally didn’t come as a surprise why you got the highest marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts with the infamous Regulus Black as your professor. They truly didn’t expect what seemed like a cruel professor to have taken some sort of… liking to a pretty Hufflepuff. Holy shit, this is 3.3K words- (beware, ‘dark’-er fic!)

The first day you came into class, Regulus noticed that your skirt was tailored. And since then, he has noticed everything about you.

When you started wearing makeup to his class.

When you started doing your hair, and when boys started to realize how attractive you were.

Regulus didn’t think he could comprehend why some boys didn’t notice how attractive you were, it was something he noticed when you continued to take his class when you didn’t have to. As much as he knew your reasoning was true, that you really did love his class and excel in it, he couldn’t help but hope some part of it was because of him.

And he would quickly smash it whenever that possibility of hope came up again. He couldn’t entertain this, he shouldn’t.

Still, as you walked into his class a little later than normal, he couldn’t help but pause his lecture. You looked… different today, but he couldn’t place how.

“I’m sorry, Professor Black,” you said as you sat down in the seat right in front of his desk, a slight smile on your face before he noticed the bruise on your cheek. “Quidditch practice ran late.”

Oh, he was going to kill whoever gave you that bruise.

“Why do you play on a team that never wins?” Regulus’ response was slightly bitter, but it was mainly because you showed up hurt.

You giggled slightly, shaking your head. “Because it’s fun, Professor Black.”

“Did you go to the infirmary?” Regulus lifted the sleeves of his button down as he stepped out from behind his desk.

“No, Professor, I was already late,” you explained, shaking your head. “I’ll be okay.”

“Go to the infirmary,” his words left no room for discussion, his head jerking to the door. “Get checked out. I’ll catch you up later.”

He spoke as though you didn’t come to his class during lunch just to talk about the further actions of Defense Against the Dark Arts, and get ahead in the curriculum that he made specifically for you because you were so ahead. He specifically looked into the subjects you were interested in and built a curriculum around it, before educating himself more and giving it to you.

“I’ll be okay, Professor-”

“Go to the infirmary, Y/N,” he said again, turning his back to you as he grabbed his wand. “We will only be dueling with the spells we learned last class, and you’re ahead. If there’s anything new, I will catch you up.”

You sighed, setting down your stuff as you stood. “Yes, Professor.”

Originally, Regulus had a lesson planned for today, but he wouldn’t be able to focus with the thought of you in the infirmary. You weren’t even hurt bad, just a small and plain injury from a sport you did for fun, but he couldn’t focus.

So instead he sat down behind his desk, glaring at everyone as he tried to think about how you got that bruise. Even though you were a Seeker, normally, you were quick enough to get out of the tight spots you were normally put in — he guessed that this time, you weren’t quick enough.

Oh, his poor girl.

Regulus partnered up random students, his mind still on you as he stared a hole into his desk. Your pretty face didn’t look good with a bruise blooming on your cheek, the only bruises he would ever want on your body were the ones that he made. The thought of him gripping your thighs so tight that he left hand shaped bruises, or bruises made from how hard he would kiss your body or your lips – the only markings that should ever be on your skin should be his.

“Professor Black?”

Your voice made him look up, the sounds of spells being casted quickly being drowned out as you smiled at him.

The bruise was gone from your cheek as you gave him a slight wave. “I-I just wanted to say thank you. For worrying about me, I-I probably would not have gone to the infirmary… thank you, again. Besides, I’m all healed now!”

Your giggle made him smile slightly. “I didn’t think you were going to go,” Regulus spoke, tilting his head. “Normally you’re such a headstrong girl.”

His words make you shrug slightly. “Maybe it’s because I knew I needed to go.”

“Well you were a good girl and listened,” he hummed, tilting his head slightly. “Why don’t you sit and rest? I’m sure practice was exhausting.”

You quickly shook your head. “Oh no, professor, that wouldn’t be fair-”

Regulus laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, my darling girl, you should know not to argue with me,” a smile is left on his face when he saw the slight flush in your cheeks. “Go sit down. Rest.”

You swallowed, nodding. “Yes, Professor.”

He watched you walk away, your robe hiding the expanse of your thighs from behind before you turned around and sat in your chair, smiling.

When class ended, you stayed after as everyone left, sighing softly as you stood up and walked over. “Professor Black, can I ask you a question?”

Regulus nodded, slowly standing up and offering his hand. “Yes, of course. Let’s move into my office.”

Oh, he shouldn’t have said that.

“Yes, Professor,” you smiled so simply, perfectly innocent – was it real? Were you truly innocent?

If you were, Regulus wanted to destroy it – he wanted to corrupt you. He wanted to break you down and build you back up, with your entire structure dependent on him. If the Defense Against Dark Arts position truly was cursed, you were his curse.

He moved behind you to follow you into his office, closing the door and slowly locking it. He wasn’t even sure what came over him when he did so.

“I have a question on one of the books you assigned for our advanced curriculum,” you said, your face slightly scrunched in concentration. “Do you mind if I take off my robe?”

Regulus quickly shook his head, almost too quick. “Of course not.”

You smiled again as you sat down after slipping your robe off onto the chair, Regulus standing against the desk and leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked absolutely picturesque, his dark curls framing his face and his gray eyes piercing down at you.

“What about them?”

“One of the books,” you said, crossing one leg over the other with a slight sigh, completely ignorant to the slight lift of your skirt to show off more of your plush thighs. “The one about using protection spells from your own emotions. I am truly sorry if this is out of turn, but one of the spells stemmed from the emotion of lust, and I don’t understand how it would… do that.”

Regulus paused. Were you really that stupid? He didn’t even mean to do that, you did that yourself.

“Are you being serious?” Regulus was holding back a smirk, covering his mouth with his large, scarred hand.

Your face relaxed slightly, eyes wide as you tilted your head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, you stupid girl,” he said with a laugh, your face displaying deep offense with your wide mouth and eyebrows raised. Your face stayed like that until his hand pulled away from his face and he softly stroked your hair down to your cheek, your face relaxing as you stared up at him. Your eyes were so wide and innocent, were they always like that? “Have you ever felt lust before?”

Your eyes trailed up as you thought, your thighs squeezing together. “No-”

“Oh, I don’t like girls who lie,” he said, his hand pulling away from your face and slowly ghosting your form to settle on the exposed skin of your sigh. “I noticed you squeezing your thighs together… be a good girl and tell me what makes you lustful.”

You swallowed, your hands shaking as you inhaled deeply. “I-I can’t…”

His eyebrow raised. “You can’t?”

Your head shook as you swallowed, your hand softly wrapping around his wrist. “N-No… I can’t, it’s wrong,” you whisper, continuing to shake your head before Regulus twists his hand out of your grip and spreads his entire hand onto the expanse of your thigh. “Professor Black-”

“Hush, my darling girl,” he whispered, slowly bending down to be eye level with you as he rubbed your thigh. “Are you going to tell me or do I need to try my hand at casting without my wand?”

You inhaled shakily as his fingertips slowly drift under the hem of your tailored skirt, swallowing. “N-No… I-I will tell you… I-I have thoughts about you, bad thoughts,” you whisper, shaking your head. “V-Very bad thoughts…”

Regulus smiled, both of his hands holding each opposite side of your thighs as his face gets closer to yours. “What kind of thoughts?”

Your cheeks start to heat up, eyes burning as tears prick your eyes. “Pr-Professor Black-”

He laughed when he saw tears pricking your eyes, tilting his head. “Are you going to cry? What a pathetic girl,” he bit his lip, nose brushing to yours. “Why are you crying?”

You swallowed, shaking your head. “B-Because… m-my stomach is twisting really bad…”

He hummed, tilting his head. “Do you want me to check you out, my pathetic girl?”

Your hips started to squirm as you unconsciously nodded, his face ducking down to your ear.

“Get on the desk. I’ll show you what lust feels like.”

He knew the feeling of lust very well. It would churn in his stomach every time you walked into his class, and the heat would rush down to his cock when you opened your mouth to only say a few words.

And just like that, the lust started to pulsate again as you rose onto the desk, your pretty tailored skirt being hiked up on your thighs as you placed your feet on the edges of his desk, spreading your thighs widely for him.

Regulus stepped forward, his fingers starting to slip your buttons undone, revealing your lacy white bra that blended in under the white button down.

Fuck, you were so hot.

His hands settled on your thighs again as he slotted himself between your legs, clenching his fingers on your plush skin to try and prevent the slight tremors of all the lust coursing through his body. Regulus wondered if you felt the lust like he did, but he didn’t have to wonder for long when he saw the wet patch on your lacy panties that seemed to match your bra.

“Oh, my sweet girl correlates,” he groaned, his fingers slowly swiping over the wet spot, a smile developing on his face when your thighs jolted to try and tighten around his waist. “How pretty…”

You were unsure of what was going through your body. Your stomach was twisting much like it did when you would get turned on by what you would think about him doing to you before slipping your fingers into yourself in your prefect dorm and moaning into your pillow like you did last night. This feeling though, this was different.

It was like your core was pulsating, your walls clamping around nothing as he slipped your panties to the side, your entrance fluttering as his finger trailed over your entrance. A whine escapes your lips as he did so, your hips bucking as he smirked down at your cunt, only pulling his hand away to stick his fingers in his mouth.

You gaped as you watched him lather his fingers in his spit, and you certainly didn’t expect him to shove his fingers down your throat soon afterward. Your hips bucked uncontrollably, a loud moan falling from your lips before gagging around his fingers.

“Relax your throat, my darling girl,” he coos to you, leaning down to kiss against your temple. Oh, his lips quivered against your skin as he watched you gag and choke on his fingers, your saliva running down his knuckles before he pulled his fingers away. You let out soft coughs as his fingers slowly circled the sensitive bundle of nerves, whining loudly as he pushed his fingers through the ring, your walls clamping down on his fingers.

At first, he was slow, just like how you would begin to finger yourself. But then, he noticed how relaxed you were, and how it took him very little effort to actually stretch you out.

Still, he watched your reactions, your mouth wide as you moaned loudly, your arms raising to wrap around his neck to support yourself. “Pr-Professor!”

He groaned, smiling as you moaned. “Mmmm, my darling girl… you’re not very tight, is there a reason for that?”

He wasn’t complaining, this just meant he could fuck you faster – but he wanted to hear you say what you were doing.

“N-No,” you whimpered, lying through your teeth before he pushed his fingers farther into you. Unlike you, he knew what he was doing. He was flexing and twisting his fingers, parting them and scissoring into you as your tears started to run down your cheeks, a soft sob escaping your mouth as he pushed his finger deeper. “Professor!”

“What did I say earlier?” His fingers got rougher, a soft almost growl-like noise escaping his mouth. “I don’t like liars, you fucking brat.”

You yelped as his fingers got rougher, sobbing as you shook your head. “W-Wait, it’s too much! Pr-Professor, please! Stop, stop!”

It didn’t hurt, no – it truly was too much. You felt your stomach twisting, an unknown feeling settling at the pit of your tummy as his fingers twisted to press his thumb to your clit, roughly rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“No, I only listen to good girls. You’re not a good girl, fucking lying to me,” he snapped, his fingers getting rougher as he watched your thighs shake and hips rut desperately. “Tell me the truth or you’re not going to cum. Tell me!”

“I-I touched myself!” You sobbed as his fingers got faster, his index and middle finger pumping in and out of you as his thumb pushed rough circles into your clit. “I touched myself last night, I’m sorry, I’m sorry Professor!”

He groaned as he watched his fingers push and pull out of you, pumping as his lips ghosted yours. He hadn’t even kissed you yet, and he desperately wanted to. “You should be. Cum, fucking cum, my desperate little slut,”

You sobbed, shaking your head as you dug your fingers into the back of his perfectly ironed black button down. “W-Wait, Professor! It’s weird, it feels weird,” you hiccuped against his mouth as he softly kissed your lips, smiling. “Professor!”

“Oh, my perfect girl, are you going to squirt? Come on, I want to see it.”

You choked as you threw your head back, screaming out as your vision blurred, his fingers pushing as deep as he could get them inside of you, pressure never relieving from your clit.

Regulus just watched as you squirted onto his slacks, the liquid getting all over him as he laughed at how your hips rutted and your thighs convulsed uncontrollably. He continues to finger fuck you as you squirt, rubbing at your clit as you squirmed, sobbing as you bounced against his fingers, pleasure overwhelming your body.

“Are you going to cum again? Come on, do it. My perfect fucking slut, cumming back to back,” he grinned, biting at his lip as you felt your stomach twist again, tightening as you came again on his finger. “Oh fuck, my darling girl...”

You sobbed as he pulled his fingers out of you, his skin pruned from how wet you were, and his entire black sleeve soaked in whatever liquid came out of you. Soft sobs continued to escape your lips, hiccuping as he softly puckered his lips to yours.

“You’re such a good girl… you’re such a perfectly good girl for me,” he whispers, licking his fingers as your lips ghost his cheeks, desperately bucking your hips into the air as he took out his cock. “You ready, my perfect girl?”

You hiccuped, nodding as you stared at him while he pumped himself, his cock not exactly thick but making up for it in length – as well as the fact that it was basically picturesque, perfectly groomed with dribbles of precum sliding down the bottom of his shaft.

“I need words, my darling girl,” he whispered, delicately kissing your lips. You chased his mouth, fingers shaking as you held his shoulders. “Tell me you’re ready.”

“I-I’m ready,” you whisper, nodding mindlessly. “I-I’m ready, I’m ready to be a g-good slut for you.”

Your use of slut made him smile. You would be a good slut for him, and this truly was the beginning of his corruption.

So, with a strong snap of his hips, he pushed into you – a loud wail leaving your mouth as you sobbed. He didn’t waste any time, he couldn’t as he kissed you firmly, swallowing all of your noises as he pushed you back so you could tilt your head, turning the kiss wet and sloppy as you tried to swallow his saliva.

His thumb still didn’t pull away from your clit, but the circular motion wasn’t too much as you choked softly, trying to control all of your noises as he fucked into you. The slight curve his cock pushed into areas that you had never felt pressure in before, the feeling making your stomach twist into knots again as you whined.

“G-Gonna… gonna cum,” you whined, your words jumbled as you spoke, a smile developing on his lips as he pulled away.

“Cum then,” you didn’t need his permission this time. He had always been so desperate to feel you that it was a struggle not to cum into you there and then, but he knew that when you came, your plush walls clamping down on him would push him over the edge. “Cum my favorite fucking girl.”

You sobbed again, nodding your head as you leaned up, wrapping your arms and legs around him and cradling onto his body, groaning. “Regulus!”

Oh, he thought your walls clamping down on him would push him over the edge – no, it was you moaning his name.

His strong thrusts uncontrollably got rougher, a loud groan falling from his lips as he fucked into you even harder, another loud groan following the first as he finally came inside of you. Your eyes crossed as you threw your head back, a silent scream escaping your mouth as he continued to fuck the two of you through your highs.

As he came down, he slowed his movements – still not stopping – as he kissed you again. “I think you should stay after class more.”

You nodded, desperate to continue this. You truly were your professor’s favorite girl.

I do not ever give consent to my work being published on other platforms or being translated at any point, even if it is a request. If my work is on any other platform, it’s without my permission. Your media consumption is not my responsibility.

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qvrcll · 4 months

Text

nsfw, fem reader + borderline phone sex

teasing coriolanus snow through a line whilst he’s out parading himself as a peacekeeper with new responsibilities and goals? absolutely.

the ordeal is messy at first. you’re not sure if this is a good idea in the first place (considering the whole good man act he’s piecing together to get back to the capitol, so fragile already) but what is there to lose? you miss him terribly and on the off-chance, you get to catch him off guard, much to his dismay.

so, it starts.

“snow, there’s a caller out for you,” a stone faced peacekeeper yells, voice like gravel. really, not a mouth for conversation, so snow goes as much as to nod before reaching the relevant station. his hands are clammy, oddly, and he wishes the call were from back home. tigris, grand’maam… you.

you, who has kept his faith in this place with just images in his mind. memories.

but to hope is to lose and to lose is beneath him - so, snow keeps his wits about him. he finds a seat and sticks to it like glue, spreading his back and finding space for his feet as the machine ahead whirrs gently. there’s no one here at this point of time - calls are short and rare, which reminds him to not bide his time too much, to not panic and, admittedly, he’s never felt his heart in his throat until now.

“hello?” his voice is crisp, weak in its echo.

there’s cracking on the other end, before a face blends within the static, a smile already tinged in the viewer’s feedback. teeth he recognises by sight alone, smile he recognises by warmth alone.

it’s you.

“coryo? god, is this thing working?” you gasp, and he would laugh if the urge to have you wasn’t overwhelming his senses. his nose was already twitching, reddening with an onslaught of emotions as he could hear your words transmitting clearly over the machine’s whirr, “oh my god! coryo!”

the two of you break into smiles and he can sense you on the cusp of tears - not that strange, knowing he’s been away from you for far longer than he ever has. the remedy is always sweet: he coos at you, reassures you.

“have you been crying? what, you missed me?” he asks, clutching the receiver tighter and then loosening his grip a little. there’s a smile in his voice, but you can already see it.

you shift, curling the telephone cord around your finger and nodding, “of course i’ve missed you, coryo. have been missing you so much,” your voice is dripping with the spell of his absence, to which snow sadly smiles at. of course you’d been missing him.

but then, something slips up. time, his breath or the strap of the slip you’re wearing - pretty pink, a rememberable flush of salmon that hugs your body firmly, from what he can see. he almost misses it, almost chooses to focus on the wall nearby instead, out of courtesy. because it was surely a mistake, a little slip up (ironically). but when you fail to pull it up, instead staring at him like he was the loon here, he clears his throat.

“w… well, how have you been?”

“good.” (did you just scoot closer or did he imagine that?)

“how’d tigris… (cough) been?”

“she’s great.” (okay, your thigh definitely hitched up on purpose.)

two questions and he’s already losing his mind. he knows there are no others in the room, but he feels wholly lost, a string of yarn being pushed against nimble fingers - and when he finally looks at you, a warning painted in those azure eyes, he can finally see what you’re getting at. your face is prettily composed, like he remembers, but there’s heat in your shoulders. an ache that he wants to get beneath, curl against his fingers.

he steels himself, gripping the receiver harder and feeling his jaw tighten under the effort of staying calm, “what are you doing?”

you act dumb, of course. there’s that smile - same as before. sickly sweet and barely squashed off of your face as you stare at him, “doing what, coryo?”

“you don’t think i’m dumb, do you? i can see what you’re trying and it’s-“ he casts a wary look behind his shoulder, and spots no one, not a soul, “it’s unfair.”

“unfair?”

“precisely.”

“is this unfair too?”

before he can even squint at that, ask you what exactly you mean, you do your worst: drop the slip and reveal what’s beneath. the skin of your chest is as he remembers, your fingers skirting against your nipples. it all makes his leg jump, his heart clinch uncomfortably under all those bones and all that blood. he’s already hissing, moving closer.

“what the hell are you doing?” he asks, though there’s no malice in his voice. no reprimand. just a small fear and a large amount of desire that spills into a small whimper when you lean back and have the decency to lower your fingers past your belly and beneath.

“i missed you coryo,” you practically eat the words, moaning softly into the receiver as you work yourself open until it’s quite enough. but it never is - you know this and so does snow. one of his many faults, his dexterity that is - pretty, nimble fingers that reach parts of you that need teasing, pushing. fingers that go farther and don’t come back until you’ve had your fill. but you’re making do with what you have and that’s partly why he grits his teeth.

he knows he can do it better.

“talk to me,” he licks a stripe against his lips, eyes zoning in on you. he can’t see below for certain, but with the soft sounds that leave you, he’s plenty satisfied. besides, the thought of those stone faced peace-keepers stepping in and taking an eyeful of you gets him angrier than he would like to be, “how does it feel? good? better than mine?”

“no, no, never-“ you gasp, craning your head backwards and angling your body so you’re resting your weight on your free elbow, “never, coryo - ah - you’re better. need your fingers.”

he feels a strain in his pants. a pain is forming in his dick and the blood is rushing soon down, and he knows this is unruly. unadjustable. he could lose his position. but maybe that’s the thrill in it, isn’t it? closing an eye to his duties is rather easy, and as he palms his dick through the svelte material, the groan that leaves him is inarticulate and roughly pushed out of his throat.

“poor thing needs me all the time, don’t you?” he gasps, palm catching on that sensitive area down below, “have you been doing this - fuck - since i’ve been away?”

he spreads his legs, palming harder and somehow, messier. though the static betrays him, the feedback in the device in front of him does him wonders: your face, contorted just the way he loves it, your fingers inventing some thick, loud sound the more you work your way into your cunt, the weight of your release hung above the two of you like a threat.

“just my fingers - ah - been using ‘em” you cry out, voice high suddenly, “miss you so much. i can’t do this. i need you here - ngh - coryo!”

the noise that leaves you is heavy and it hits him so hard his dick throbs in his pants, so he presses harder onto the muscle and moans painfully slow.

“shit - miss you so much, sweetheart,” he picks up his ordinary pace, “when i’m back home, i’ll give it to you good.”

“promise?”

“fuck - i promise.”

the seconds of orgasm are embarrassing. he clutches the screen and stares open-mouthed at you. wishes he could kiss every bend and curve, every dot and line, but as soon as he feels himself about to spill into his pants, the line cuts. there’s a darkness washing over the screen and he can no longer hear your voice through the wasted receiver.

it clicks - those stupid call times. he’d probably used all his minutes.

he clenches his fist and loosens it up, tossing the receiver back into its apt position. and as much as he is exasperated as he is disconcerted, he composes himself.

several minutes later, a peace-keeper enters. stone faced and dull, just as he remembers them.

“time’s up, snow. get back to your room.”

snow nods, pinching one look at the dark screen of the feed before walking out. as he steers clear of the room, a thought occurs: he better get back home quick so he can fill you up the way you both like best.

(requests for snow / tbosas are open!)

#coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #tbosas x reader

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milswrites · 11 days

Text

The Trials of Aphrodite Part Three

~ Azriel X Fem!Reader

Series Masterlist

Series summary: Hopelessly in love with Elain, Azriel enlists your help in order to win her over. The only problem? You have been in love with Azriel for as long as you have known him.

Chapter summary: Azriel receives a lesson in flirting.

Warnings: A bit of angsty pining. Teeny bit of suggestiveness.

It was a familiar scene; you staring at Azriel.

And Azriel staring at her.

Want swimming in his hazel eyes as he absorbed Elain's glowing figure as she pottered about in her garden, lips parted in awe as he took in her soft features and natural beauty.

All the while your eyes stayed locked on him. Wonder filling your own gaze as you marveled at the admiration which flowed freely from the male next to you. Azriel's intense stare providing you with an insight into all the love he had to give. A love that would never be reserved only for you. A type of love that he would only ever feel for Elain.

"So how's this going to work?" you ask in an attempt to break Azriel from his lovestruck spell, swallowing your pain as you noticed the love draining from his eyes as he turned his gaze to you.

"I don't know, I was hoping you would tell me what to do" he nervously mumbled, peeking back over the rosebush the two of you were hidden behind to double check that Elain hadn't spotted you.

"Gods this is ridiculous, Az just go over and talk to her!" you exclaimed, your raised voice being met with the anxious shushing of your worrisome friend who was afraid of being caught.

"Gee thanks I wonder why I haven't thought about doing that before. . . It's because I can't!" his sarcastic reply was met with a flat look from you, certain that the only reason Azriel was finding this difficult was because he was the one making it that way.

"Az, how hard can it be? Just compliment her or something!" you sighed, wondering how Azriel could ooze confidence in every aspect of his life apart from when it comes to romance.

"It's not that easy. I've tried. . . look last time I complimented her I asked her if she was the cauldron because I wanted to drown in her eyes" he awkwardly admitted, embarrassed eyes cast to the ground in shame.

"You compared Elain to the cauldron?" you asked unimpressed, astounded at your friend's boundless stupidity, "Elain who quite literally drowned in the cauldron in what was probably the most traumatizing event of her life."

"I didn't say the line worked" Azriel grumbled, not liking the chuckle of disbelief which slipped from your lips at his hopelessness.

"Obviously not, we wouldn't be crouched behind a bush right now if it did" you retorted, unable to stop the fit of giggles which followed as you tried to imagine Azriel's pitiful attempt of flirting backfiring on him.

"Are you going to help me or are you just going to sit there and laugh at me?" Azriel huffed, not sharing in your amusement at his misery.

"Fine, fine. Just go over there and compliment her dress, girls like it when guys notice that kind of thing" you suggest, trying not to turn red as you recall the time when Azriel had first complimented one of your own dresses, having continued to wear it every time you saw him for the next few months with the hope of him praising you again.

"Great, what do I say?" your friend asked, but not before you shoved him right into the heat of the fire by pushing him out from behind the rosebush. Azriel stumbling away from the safety of his hiding spot.

"Azriel? What are you doing here?" Elain's gentle voice called out from where she was stood. A quick flash of Azriel's burning gaze a warning that the two of you would be talking about this later.

"Elain!" Azriel loudly starts as he slowly makes his way towards Elain, his awkward manner already making you cringe in discomfort, "Your dress! it's nice. . . and pink. Nice and pink."

It took everything in you not to hang your head into your palm in shame, finding it incredulous how one person could fail so miserably when it came to talking to someone.

Thankfully, if Elain found his behaviour strange she didn't let on, instead replying to his strange attempt of a compliment with an airy giggle and a polite thank you.

"Great! Well um. . ." your ears perk, brows furrowing in confusion as you wait to see what Azriel says next, "Hope you have a nice day!"

With that Azriel swiftly left, abruptly ending the painfully awkward conversation before leaving the garden, hurriedly making his way up the nearest street in order to escape his discomfort. Chasing after your flustered friend, you followed after him, hoping that Elain hadn't noticed you were also there listening in on their conversation.

"Nice and pink? Have a nice day?" you laughed, having caught up to Azriel, “I’ve met Middengard Wyrm’s that flirt better than you just did." Not failing to miss the dusty pink hue that had blossomed across Azriel’s cheeks in wake of his embarrassment.

“I can flirt,” he swiftly defended, hazel eyes rolling towards the back of his head as he noted the teasing smile which had graced your lips, “I was just caught off guard that’s all.”

“Ah ok, you were caught off guard. Is that the reason why you practically screamed in Elain’s face?” you smirked, working to deepen your friend’s blush until the growing redness spread to his ears.

“I didn’t scream-” Azriel didn’t fail to miss the way your face contorted into a wince at his hopeless denial, his once heated words now converting into a low conscious murmur, “Was it really that bad?”

You stretch out a reassuring hand to come and rest against Azriel’s slumped shoulder, thumb instinctively moving to rub comforting circles into his taut muscle. Eyebrows knitting together in pained sympathy, you answer honestly, “Maybe it was a little pathetic. . .You won't be tending to Elain's garden any time soon if that was anything to go by."

There was no stopping Azriel’s despondent sigh, not even the gentle caress of his shadows against his shaking hands brought the male any solace, the swirling black tendrils failing to sate their master's rising panic as it washed over him.

It was a horrible sight, seeing your friend so dejected. Your heart twinging at the way his anxious breath rattled in his chest. You would offer him your understanding if you could, take his trembling hands into your own and tell Azriel that you were all too familiar with the feeling of getting tongue tied around the person you so longed for. Yet no confession of your shared failures in the romance department would fix this, not when Azriel was the one who owned your heart. Not when you had promised him help in winning over another.

And so you didn’t share your hidden truth with the male, instead opting to lock it away into the darkest depths of your heart. It was a secret you were willing to keep forever, so only to ensure the happiness of your friend. A secret you would carry with you to your grave if Azriel’s plan goes as intended.

Instead you offer Azriel the only thing you could; your comfort. The supportive hand which had been resting on his shoulder now travelling down his arm. His shadows parting briefly to allow you to lock your fingers with his own, the smoky wisps resuming their soothing dance once your hands were comfortably entwined.

One touch. That was all it took to pull Azriel from the wave of panic that had consumed him. The familiar touch of your palm against his own enough to steady his uneven breaths and calm his shaking hands.

"Its ok," you promise, confident gaze meeting his own uncertain stare, "you've not ruined anything. All you need is a little more confidence and she'll be under your spell. Trust me, one flirty little one liner from you and it will be impossible for her to be anything but in love."

"I can manage one I suppose" Azriel attempts to agree confidently yet his words read more like a question, removing his hand from your own to ruffle his hair in thought.

"Maybe you could ask Lucien for tips, Feyre tells me he's quite the flirt'' you tease, hoping the mention of Lucien's name would spur on Azriel's desire to act on his feelings for Elain.

"I don't need help when it comes to flirting, and certainly not from him" he grit the words through his teeth having predictably taken the bait you had laid out for him.

"Hmm I'm not sure, your skills were a little lacklustre from what I could see" you continue to goad him, each prod and poke working to build your friends confidence bit by bit.

"Lacklustre?" Azriel scoffed in disbelief, all anxiety having been drained from his eyes and replaced with the spark of a challenge.

"You wouldn't have me swooning" you shrug casually, mouth twisting into a playful smirk at Azriel's displeasure.

“No?” Azriel asked in faux surprise, the male taking a slow step towards you, “not even if I did this?”

A gentle push of the tips of Azriel's fingers against the exposed skin of your chest found you stumbling backwards until you were pressed against the wall. Your teasing smile fading as your shock consumed you, heart fluttering as Azriel's arms came to cage you on either side. “Or this?” he continued, leaning in close enough that the warmth of his breath against your neck began to send shivers down your spine. Your knees wobbling at the intensity of his gaze.

“I thought flirting included words?” you breathed out heavily, trapped under the heat of his gaze.

“Why use words when I could take you apart with less than that?” he lowly whispered into your ear, a glint of darkness in his eyes as a cruel smirk appeared on his lips. You found yourself speechless, entranced by the playfulness of his devilishly handsome features, your deep breaths falling in time with his own as he witnessed your stunned reaction to his words.

"I think Elain will find my flirting perfectly adequate" he smiled, shattering the moment as he mentioned the woman that he truly wished was captured between his arms. Reminding you that his flirtacious quip wasn't for you; it was for her.

"Maybe that's a bit much Az" you state sourly, moving your hand to his chest in order to push him away and slip under his outstretched arm, "I don't know how well Elain will take it if you come on that strong."

"You didn't seem to mind" he answered cheerfully, failing to notice your sudden change in mood, the male still trying to continue his teasing banter.

"I think you'll find there's more to women than just sex and physical attraction" you scoffed, desperately wanting nothing more than to move on from this conversation. Yet Azriel wouldn't provide you with that mercy, his next question almost enough to make you sick.

"What would you say then? To someone you loved, someone you pined after?"

You debated not answering him, dismissing his curiosity to spare you from the pain and embarrassment that would no doubt ensue. Yet a small part of you wondered if this would be your only chance. That perhaps you had the wrong idea, locking away your feelings, maybe all you needed was to get them off your chest. To lift the weight from your shoulders, allow yourself to finally move on from the male who would never be interested in you.

So you took the leap, looking your fear in the face as you stared into Azriel's expectant eyes.

And you confessed.

"I would tell him the truth. Tell him how not a day passes where I don't feel madly, uncontrollably in love with him. That any moment I'm not near him I find myself unable to breathe, unable to be satisfied until I am in his company. And I'd tell him that loving him makes me a fool, that I would never fail to sacrifice my happiness if only to see him smile. That love has made me it's servant and I am all too willing to bow before it."

"Sounds to me like you're an expert in love" Azriel answered after a thoughtful pause, a flicker of a smile working its way onto his face.

"I don't think I know what love is" you replied, still waiting for the moment of relief to come, failing to understand that it was a gift you would never receive.

"Nonsense, he's a lucky guy. I'm sure he feels for you as deeply as you do for him" Azriel cheerfully reassured you, looking absolutely delighted by the prospect of you being in love with someone. Completely unaware that he was the male you were speaking of. That he was the person you would struggle to live without.

And as you shook away the consoling shadow which had tentatively approached you, you wondered if your heart would ever be free from the chains of Azriel's own design.

Part four

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: Thank you to @daily-dose-of-sass for unknowingly falling into my trap and giving me the most perfect pick up line for Azriel to have used 😌

Bit more of a look at the dynamic of their friendship in this one!

Taglist Part 1:

@a-cup-of-nightshade @yearninglustfully @illyrianbitch @ninaduchess @sarawritestories @annaaaaa88 @antiquecultist @madelyncullen @erencvlt @chaytea06 @dxjaaaa @saltedcoffeescotch @spark1epuffba11s @thestartitaness @amysangel @historygeekqueen @thelov3lybookworm @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @willowpains @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @dreamlandreader @sidthedollface2 @leeknows-wife @riorgail @eve175 @evergreenlark @anuttellaa @daily-dose-of-sass @Jesus-is-me @tothestarsandwhateverend

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel #azriel series #azriel oneshot #azriel shadowsinger

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bg3galore · 3 months

Text

Sleeping headcanons

Wyll

-Will hum you a soft tune and rub shapes into your back, while you're settling down for the night.

-Would definitely tell you stories of his life growing up and about his dreams for the future, while you listen closely to his breathing; until you fall asleep.

-Always kisses your forehead before falling asleep.

-Chuckles softly to himself every time you fall asleep before him and will take it as an opportunity to watch your sweet face sleeping; wondering if you're dreaming and what about.

Karlach

-Is a loud snorer and a very deep sleeper

-The perfect cuddler, especially for a harsh winter night; that infernal engine will actually be put to a good cause- comforting the two of you from the prickle of ice, snow and cold alike.

-During the summer, she tends to smother you a bit so you have to squirm your way out of her hold a few times if you're to get any rest at all

-Gets particularly soft and vulnerable when you tuck her hair behind her ears and tell her every little thing you love about her; it makes her feel like her engine is going to combust on site- but in the best way possible.

Shadowheart

-Plays with your hair and enjoys it when you do too

-She always prays right before and right after sleeping and always mentions you in her prayers; she wants you to be safe and healthy forever and always.

-On rare nights that she does have a nightmare (not doubt featuring wolves) she'll reluctantly wake you up and want you to spoon her and comfort her tenderly with words or reassurance; she knows it's silly that they are just wild dogs with no table manners but they terrify her to her core.

-She takes a couple of hours to fall asleep, so in the meantime she likes to read, meditate and admire every inch of you while you sleep or chill in your shared bedroll; it reminds her how lucky and blessed she is everyday.

Gale

-Snores mildly on nights his orb is particularly vexing but will still insist on you cuddling up together; he will apologise for all the trouble he knows he causes although he knows he can't control his situation or habits.

-You have a nightly ritual where you'll lay adjacent to each other and get lost in each others eyes, which tends to lead Gale to slowly getting flustered and eventually crumbling and being very keen for some sleep- he can't control his love or actions in relation to you very well so having you looking at him like that really switches something in him.

-If you ever have trouble falling or staying asleep he'll cast a sleep spell on you to make sure you will get your well deserved rest, and watch over you for a little while just in case something should happen or change.

-On nights where he struggles to sleep and you have long been taken ahold by sleep, he'll wonder off to a quiet place on the other side of camp and quietly play with his magic.

Lae'zel

-She's the type to kick and move around a lot in her sleep, maybe even growl- although she has no memory or idea about it; she would be too proud to admit it willingly anyways.

-Very light sleeper, from as early as she can remember she never wants to give any potential enemies the upper hand so she applies this too to her sleep- she will be the one with a blade to their throat.

-Initially she's not a huge fan of the cuddling idea but once you've been together for a while she starts warming up to the idea of it, and will try it once everyone is asleep; she's full of a soft joy and ever so slightly god forbid drops her guard.

-Falls asleep very easily despite her guard being up so much, she has a lot of pent up rage, anxiety and just general exhaustion so this wears a toll on her body taking her completely out before you even realize it.

Astarion

-Is prone to frequent nightmares/reliving his past with the Szarr household, which causes him to jolt awake and sometimes cry or scream.

-Otherwise he's a quiet sleeper and a wonderful cuddler, he always wakes up in the same position he fell asleep in.

-His favorite sleeping position is to have his head directly on your chest so he can listen to your heartbeat, he finds it incredibly comforting and reassures him that he's not alone and won't ever have to be again- not at night, not in the day and certainly not against his demons.

-Takes a minimum of 4 hours to fall asleep especially if he's left alone with his thoughts; they eat at him with anxiety and doubt- so he tends to get to bed much earlier than everyone else in camp.

Halsin

-Only tends to snore if he's been in wild shape for too long

-Wonderful big spoon, also loves to hold you against his chest while you lay by the camp fire and watch the stars and reminisce on stories long past.

-Like Astarion he relives/has nightmares about some of his traumatic experiences from his youth but he's much more discreet about it and will do his best not to wake you up; and instead will go for a brief walk to clear his head and take in the scent of nature and all its bounties.

-Adores it when you nuzzle your face into his neck and will absolutely make you lay completely all over him so he can be closer to you; unless it embarrasses you of course.

#astarion #bg3 #gale #halsin #headcanons #karlach #lae'zel #shadowheart #wyll #sleeping

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dykeomania · 3 months

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lovergirl!hazel headcanons

｡.｡ just some evidence of a love that transcends hunger, tbh.

a/n: i needed a break from writing a fic and wanted to write something sappy. this is the something sappy in question. wanted it to give how-you-become-hazel's-lover -> what she does when you're actually her lover vibe but it just got real mushy. i like it. i hope you like it, too. proofread, but i'm blind as fuck + i'm rusty, so.

tags: gender neutral (i think. i may have fucked up once or twice. please correct me if i did, i proofread fr fr over time. not intended for cis men), body neutral, and poc friendly. some niche reader things (tarot mention, reader wears makeup). mild nsfw -- kissing, making out, heavy petting. almost third base. starts in high school, ends in college.

practice fanfic etiquette. please don't plagiarize or repost my stuff.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who sits up straight on the edge of your bathtub and looks up at you in complete awe when you're getting ready. she's got the dumbest, most lovesick puppy look in her eyes as she watches her lover line her lips, and apply a sheer coat of gloss on top. when they turn around to ask if it's even, hazel smiles so wide that it makes the apples of her cheeks sore.

she doesn't really know if it looks okay, she just knows that she wants to kiss you.

she only manages an mhm because it's what you want from her and, well.. at this point, hazel's convinced that she'd drop just about everything to give whatever you want.

you snicker, closing the space between you in slow and steady strides. "what are you looking at, huh?" you teases, grin stretched across lips lined nude, gleaming pink.

"mmm..." hazel can't help but like, drunklenly (she's dead sober).. haphazardly loop you in by the belt loop, head tilting easily to the right. "yyyyyou."

her eyes droop as she falls victim to the familiar spell that you cast over her. one that starts with you taking her face in her hands, and bringing yourself close enough for to take in all at once. she's made dizzy by the smell of your conditioner, made defenseless by the familiar trace of your body wash radiating off of your skin.

"what're you looking at me for?" you grin, your hands hot on her cheeks as you stand between her legs.

"why wouldn't i wanna look at you?" hazel gently manages, hand finding comfortable purchase on your hips. she grips gently with admiration, fingertips pressing into sacred flesh of something, someone, who she couldn't believe is hers. "you're just so pretty."

but let's take a few steps back first,

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who meets you purely by coincidence. you don't go to fight club, and you don't do cheer. you don't have any classes together, you hardly even know of each other. you do, however, have to work concessions for football together one night.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who doesn't talk much, and honestly standing next to you feels kinda stupid with the bruise that she has on her cheek. she usually never really cares and she's usually super talkative -- she doesn't talk much because well.. she doesn't really know.. how to. how to talk to pretty people -- well, it's not like she finds you pretty, it's just.. anyways,

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who makes some dumb joke about athletes and you kind of snort.. and she's immediately charmed. hazel callahan who has a desire to keep you entertained, and continues to do so throughout the remainder of the game.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who actually is in your class, but, neither of you just really noticed. hazel callahan who sits next to you in the weeks following. who spends her free periods with you. who eats lunch with you. who eventually gets around to telling you about fight club, over turkey and rye sandwiches.

"so you just, like..." you take a break from chewing, tonguing some bread out of your back molar. "punch the shit out of each other, and it's school-sponsored?"

"...well, yeah. but in like a self-defense, queer way. bring people together, create some solidarity. a safe-space on campus for queer community, kind of thing."

"oh okay, so like, in a slay way," you revise.

hazel stares. scoffing out a gentle laugh. "uh... yeah.." hazel furrows her brows, shaking her head. "um.. what does that.. what does that, like, mean?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who becomes your best friend.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who really likes you. like, as a person.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who likes you maybe a little bit too much.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who doesn't know how to embroider, so when you embroidered her converse -- creating a wreath of vines, speckled with bright little flowers around the all star symbol -- she was so happy. but she felt so bad because she didn't know how to repay you.

"let me make it up to you?" she insists, fingers playing with your own, but not creating enough distraction to prevent you from protesting.

"what?" you scoff, subconsciously locking her hands with yours, as though you're about to declare a thumb war. "no, how?"

"i don't know! this is so nice, let me like..." hazel shrugs voice dropping timidly, "..take you out or something."

a beat passes, one that feels like forever. a large enough one to create space for all the butterflies to rumble around both of your stomachs, and for the elephant to pass through the room. hazel can't tell if it's your hand that's begun to sweat in your grasp, or if it's hers.

your eyes narrow at her, grin stretched into something cheshire as you shake your hand, and hers. "i think you just wanna take me out on a date."

hazel smiles sheepishly, cheeks flushing a bright flamingo. she shrugs, next words quiet and intentional,

"so what if i do?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan doesn't know how to embroider but she does have an eye for wildflowers. when the girl who shows up at your doorstep, it's with a dorky smile, a batch of spring, and a bandaid wrapped around her index finger and her thumb. the flowers that she biked about an hour north to pluck -- from a field she discovered after having simply gone too far -- are bunched together and wrapped in a trader joe's paper bag, the kind that her mom always leaves in the kitchen under the sink. she put the boquet together herself. spent too much time thinking about whether or not you would like the arrangement or the colors, probably went to the store to grab a few of your favorite flowers that she couldn't find.

"oh, these are for you. see, i tried to make this whole thing, like.. semi.. transactional. again, like, i don't really know how to embroider flowers, or like anything really, so... these were next best thing, i guess." she offers, as though it's nothing.

"you look.. really nice." hazel's eyes linger, stricken and dumb. she fills her lungs with air, huffing out her next sentence. "are yoooouuu.. ready to go?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who thinks that star signs mean nothing, and doesn't know jackshit about crystals or anything of the like. but hazel callahan who is all eyes and ears, criss-cross-apple-sauce with you on her floor, as she watches you knock your knuckles on a deck of tarot cards and shuffle through them for what you called a "semi unreliable, two-card reading."

hazel callahan who jumps a little when two cards fly out from the deck. who furrows her eyebrows when you turn the over. an the lovers and two of cups, both upright.

"what..." she snorts. "what does that mean?"

"um.." she watches you blush. "it means.." and she blushes when your eyes linger on hers, and then look up. feels her stomach flutter when she watches you take a deep breath in through your nose, like you're shuffling through all of the words in your head.

"...let's just saaaaayyyy... nnnew connections might be coming your way, soon."

hazel has no fucking idea what that means, looking at you, she surely could hope that that's true.

...

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who is shocked that you want to like.. have a sleepover with her. this doesn't really happen to her. like at all. but it's happening with you, so she's down.. but it has to be planned. hazel callahan pulls out all the stops to try to make sure that it's.. well, perfect, she guesses? she makes sure that it's on a weekend where her mom is out of town (not even because she wants to do anything but you know how her mom is). she asks you what all of your favorite snacks are beforehand, and offers to go get more if you run out. she makes sure that you have satin pillowcases if you have textured hair, just in case you forget a bonnet, or anything. probably does that regardless of whether or not that's applicable to you, because she hears it's better for your skin and what not. she gets a weighted blanket for you and some extra pillows + takes out an extra throw if she knows that you get cold easily, or damn near strips her bed down to just one comforter and gets a desk fan to face her bed if she knows that you get too hot.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who you create a shared movie list with, and who will sit with you and watch all of your favorite movies. all of your least favorite movies. will watch movies that you insist that she must see and will do so with very little fight because it's whatever you want, really. hazel callahan who is very quickly realizing that she would do whatever you wanted, as long as it meant that it got you to smile.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ (hazel callahan who, granted, talks through a lot of those fucking movies. like. hazel callahan who has a really fucking hard time paying attention to movies.)

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who clearly has overthought everything. who laughs at and understands all of your dumb jokes and is always a little shocked when you laugh at hers. who lets you rest your head on her shoulder when you watch movies in her home-theater. who lays with you in her bed and compares your tiktok for you page with hers and finds it a little too easy to poke fun of you. finds it not as easy to remain calm when your head rests comfortably on her chest, and thus hopes to god that all of the cringy tiktok audios are masking the sound of her heart beating out of her chest.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who looks at you when you mention that it's getting late, and insists that there's a guest room if you wanna sleep in there, or an air mattress that she was supposed to blow up.

"it's too late for that, though." you frown.

"no," hazel, being hazel, is quick to reassure, shaking her head. "no, no, i could totally blow it up. we have an automated pump, it'll take like 20 minutes."

"mm, i don't know, it's still kinda late for all of that..."

hazel blinks at you. her eyebrows raise, corners of her lips gently upturning. "okay. i mean, do you wanna take the guest room?"

you look up at her, eyes big on purpose. "that guest room's kinda scary." you lift a brow. "it's dark. and cold."

hazel thinks she might.. be tripping. she has to be. her blink is slow, and her face knots together, and releases -- the way it does when she gets all timid and indecisive. "o..kay..." she grins nonetheless, furrowing her eyebrows. "so then .. where are you gonna sleep?"

"..i mean.." you burn, and so does she. "...i could just sleep here with you?"

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who can't help but feel girlish and vulnerable laying in her bed with you, her stomach tied in knots over how there is nothing usual about this situation. fully seeing you in your pajamas. feeling the gentle flesh of your bare calves rub against hers. being within such close proximity of you that she can still smell the lingering remnants of soap on your skin from your shower.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who dares to let her finger dance on your upper bicep, but that's just about it, really.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who only nudges closer only when you nudge closer. who only lowers her voice, when you lower your voice. who only holds eye contact when you start it, but is always the first to look away.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who falls into a trap: eye contact held after some conversation that did not, and does not matter. she follows your eyes down, chocolate eyes focusing on the arch of your cupids bow. she does tilt her head up to find her nose nudging softly against the underside of yours. she doesn't know how you two got this close. hazel callahan who feels her hands grow sweaty, feeling your breath linger over her the chap of her lips. who nearly stiffens when she feels your hand press into her back, but instead arches into the crevice your body makes and presses her palm against your hip.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who does what she thinks she's supposed to do, and kisses you -- soft and gentle, like the whispers that fluttered over both of your lips earlier. brief, and endearing.

her lips stick to yours, and then her lips press into yours. and then her lips open when yours do, and her hand tightens on you when yours does.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who has no fucking idea what she's doing. like, seriously. she kind of knows -- i mean, okay, yeah, she knows how to kiss, but this is, like.. not just a kiss. hazel's kisses are brief. gentle, maybe a little slow. never this deep. hazel callahan who forgets herself when her fingers weave through your hair. hazel callahan who doesn't recognize the way her breath shakes in your throat when your fingers ambitiously sift through her thick, black locks and pull.

hazel callahan whose lips slot over yours, and unlock. who leans forward when you lean back, and is almost nearly on top of you.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who doesn't know what to do with her hand, so she puts it everywhere. glides it over your side, presses it over the expanse of your lower back. who smooths her hand under your shirt and marvels in the way your skin burns against her palm. who itches to explore, traversing over your stomach, venturing up, up, and up--

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who stops dead in her tracks when you hum something sour in her mouth and grab her wrist. who looks at you stunned with parted lips as you softly shake your head against hers.

"not yet," you pant, opening your eyes to look at her. "not yet."

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who bats her lashes, dizzy with affection yet sobered from your action. she knows how you sound. not like you're rejecting her, but like you're admitting something, which you.. might be. something that she understands. regardless, she understands.

but she burns bright with embarrassment, stomach rattling with a guilt that crawls up her throat and wraps around it, tightening and tightening...

"yeah," she manages a whispers after a while. somehow, it's still raspy. "yeah, okay.."

"okay.."

"...m'sorry--"

"don't be," you shake your head. "keep kissing me."

you rush, and it's kind of just in time. whatever stinging was lingering in her chest subsides as you bring yourself closer, lips softly capturing her lower lip in affirmation after hazel just stares at you.

hazel callahan who blinks, oscillating between consciences, dazed and a little confused. she's cautious and readjusted, her hand only lingering over your side as she whispers a faint "are you sure..?"

the sentence dissolves when on the tip of hazel's tongue when her lips find yours again, at your action, which is her answer. hazel callahan who listens. who lets you take her hand and place it somewhere that feels more comfortable, somewhere that's right and yet still sensual.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who is wiped, but intentional with every kiss that either you or her leads, every swipe of her lips over your jaw, every tender kiss that you let her place against the stretch of your neck.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who will admire within her bounds. kissing you, and drowning in you until she is simply too sleepy to continue. until she is dizzy and feels comfortable enough to nuzzle her face somewhere into the crook of you, breathing you in until you become a part of her dreams,

and she will wake -- in the morning, and in the middle of the night -- only to have a hard time believing that she isn't still dreaming.

...

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who kind of has to get used to.. all of it. who crushes, even though she's already "achieved," so to speak. who grins at her phone when she's texted, who finds any excuse to facetime you and keep you on the line -- sometimes just so that she can look at you. who finds any excuse to be around you.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who you can't get rid of once you go both go to college. who facetimes you whenever, who visits you on weekends. who comes into your space and steals all of your sweatshirts and your pajama pants and of course, all of your spare time.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel "no, i can make that for you" callahan who can't embroider, but can crochet. she will buy you that jellycat that you really want, a hundred percent. hazel callahan will also greet you with a fucked up rendition of said stuffed animal that you wanted (giving jamdog, perhaps) and furrows her eyebrows when you have to hide your laugh with your hand.

"what?" she asks, grin dulling only for a moment. "do you not like it?"

"no it's--" you cover your mouth. "it's perfect." you cackle. when you cup her cheeks, all the worry and fear of judgement fades. sort of. at least enough. "you're perfect, babe. i love it."

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who does, in fact, keep a picture in her wallet of her lover, ready at all times. hazel callahan who weaves her lover into casual conversation.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who still doesn't really understand figure of speech all that well so when you say things like "i wish you could just come over," she literally goes "..well like, i could,"

and then proceeds to make like, a three hour drive.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who keeps the picture that you hate of yourself as her lockscreen and it's not to spite you, it's because she thinks you're beautiful, and she has no idea what you're talking about.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who figures out what names you like to be called by throwing everything at a wall and seeing that sticks. pretty. handsome. lover. angel. baby. and when she does find one, one that makes you blush just about as hard as she does every time you even look in her direction, she holds it over your head to high heavens. makes it your contact name. uses it to punctuate reassuring sentences, when she greets you, when she tells you goodnight.

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who gets to take you on real dates, and gets excited to. who gets giddy when you get ready. who gets to fix your hair and come up behind you when you take mirror selfies once you're finished. who now feels comfortable enough to place her hands at the mid-point of your waist and let them venture toward your frontside while she rests her chin on your shoulder, and leans in to kiss your cheek. who tells you you smell nice, and makes you smile when she buries her face into some part of you and literally just goes rahhhh!!!!

ღ*♡∞:｡.｡ hazel callahan who is also stuck sometimes, in moment such as these, watching the wonder who she has had a crush on since high school -- jesus, has it really been that long? -- with gentle eyes and a completely disarmed disposition.

hazel callahan who is honestly such a fucking loser -- like, literally, loser-since-birth, no-hope-since-middle-school, gay-haircut-and-new-repotoire-can't-save-you, loser, and can't help but ponder and marvel over how someone like you is in her hands. in her face. in her life.

"m'not that pretty," you insist, fingers weaving through her hair, nails etching at hazel's scalp in a way that hazel has grown to like. love, even.

her eyes flicker over your face, smile lopsided and eyes heavy like despite everything, you don't even know the half of it. she scoffs, voice hardly above a whisper,

"yeah no, you are so much more than pretty."

#hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan #lesbian #wlw #bisexual #sapphic #ruby cruz #ruby cruz x reader #bottoms movie #bottoms 2023 #lets go lesbians

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missroki · 2 months

Text

CUPID IS SO DUMB! ┊ GOJO SATORU

star dusted arrows are standard. they have the advantage of being blessed by the gods, unable to bend or warp unless you add just the right amount of pressure. the only downside is that they are too light in the hands, practically a figment of your imagination with how the shaft would leave no impression on your palm.

modern arrows have a more practical use, carbon made with hints of aluminum and soul fragments. they’re heavier, sturdier, made to withstand even the thickest of material. satoru has been using the same arrows for a millennia, so he finds himself befuddled to find that each one of his expertly crafted projectiles are snapping like wooden twigs.

either his bad eyesight has finally caught up to him, or you were simply unloveable.

you with your pretty smile and silly heart printed headband. you who had been shot easily by his arrow only a few days prior.

somehow, despite his best efforts, silly little you was still moving through your college campus with a scarlet red arrow lodged in your lower back; invisible to the perception of mortals but a bright beacon of satoru’s failure to any god who happened to pass by.

he can hear the scolding now, how a cupid couldn’t even shoot an arrow! he can see the disappointed gaze of venus as she stares down at her creation. what is a god if his will can be altered by a mere mortal? what sort of spell are you casting that makes every man reject the love satoru is desperately trying to bless them with?

sure, you were a bit quirky — but you were clearly beautiful. the fact that you had needed any intervention from a cupid at all is a mystery within itself. from what he could tell, you were kind and true; a brilliant orange blossom in a sea of weeds. someone that could rival aphrodite herself (though he of course would never say this out loud.)

according to suguru, the cupids were meant to just push you in the right direction. to give you humans that final nudge.

you have managed to turn a nudge into a full on tackle.

countless hours have been spent watching as you glide through your university, avoiding every man in your general vicinity. it’s not a woman you seek (satoru has tried to pair you with the roommate you seem to spend most of your time with) and he couldn’t possibly pair you with the fictional man that runs across your television. (you should really sit further away from the screen.)

any time he finds you close to anyone, he takes a chance. shot after shot and each arrow ricochets into the nearest bush or snaps as if the mere thought of the match was absurd. he doesn’t understand you!

never in all of these years has he heard of such a case. you were infuriatingly difficult. stubborn, even! how else could he explain your inability to match with anyone? you must be doing it on purpose at this point.

satoru sulks, letting his chin rest in the palm of his hand as he leans against a building ledge. he feels the leather strap of his quiver pressing into his bare chest, his white pants low on his hips.

if he knows your schedule, you should be arriving at your favorite coffee shop in no time. it’s valentine’s day, after all, and they had a delicious heart shaped donut ready and fresh for customers. all he’d have to do was wait. surely the ache in his wings would be worth it in the end!

he hears you before he sees you, the soft click of your shoes as they hurry down the sidewalk. you seem to be rushing, books tightly held to your chest and your hair in a simpler style than usual. you aren’t even wearing your signature heart patterned headband… on valentine’s day.

you’re clearly not yourself and something about the thought… upsets satoru. you should be cheerful in that annoying way you always are. what’s going on?

you’re looking down at your phone when a man leaves the coffee shop. what appears to be a hot chocolate rests firmly in his hand. he’s also not paying attention, looking in the opposite direction of you and blissfully unaware.

he’s attractive enough, bright pink hair and an equally stupid grin on his face. he looks like the type of guy that would match you well (if the pink aura surrounding him was anything to go by.) a prime candidate for love, the emotion oozing out of him in waves.

satoru perks up at this. anyone from a mile away could see what was about to occur. it was a prime moment in any cupid’s career, a turn of events so perfect that the stars seemed to align for this very purpose:

a meet cute.

depending on how hot that drink was, potentially a meet ugly!

the white haired angel positions his arrow in his bow, nocking the sharp point as he eyes his target. satoru lowers his chin, weight on the balls of his feet as he leans forward off of his heels.

you’re almost there now, only a few more steps until you are to meet the love of your life. the thought brings a small smirk to satoru’s face. finally, you’d be out of his hair. he wasn’t sure if he could watch you binge another reality tv show.

he takes in a deep breath. points, aims, and shoots.

the arrow lodges itself into the man’s arm, effectively causing him to drop his drink... on the dress shoes of someone else.

it sticks! or at least… he think it does?

the arrow in the man’s arm disappears as if it was merely a trick of the light and he sparks up a conversation with the hot chocolate victim. with the way this new darker haired man seems to be unphased, satoru assumes they are already acquainted.

if the kiss the pink haired man presses onto his cheek is anything to go by, all satoru managed to do was make their love stronger.

you on the other hand are still on your phone, typing away with that cursed point still sticking out of your lower back.

a red hot blush rushes to satoru’s face as he reaches for another arrow, anger rising deep in his stomach and lingering in his chest. you have managed to evade him again but this will be the last time!

he reaches into his quiver blindly, eyes focused only on you and your adorable face and pretty hair and stupid— ouch!

warmth quickly replaces the anger he felt in his chest, nervous fluttering forcing its way into his stomach. satoru quickly moves his hand away from his arrows, the smallest drop of blood blooming on his fingertip. with a shift of weight, he can tell instantly that another arrow has disappeared.

uh oh.

one glance down at the street and he can see the tension lift from your shoulders, your eyes flickering around until they lock onto his. the arrow in your back is gone, but satoru has seen that lovesick gaze many times before in training. he assumes that he wears the same one now.

his first day back on the job and he has already managed to break one of the main rules of cupidhood: don’t get pricked by your own arrow.

maybe suguru was on to something when he said to store arrows with the pointy side facing down?

you’re moving towards him now; quickly and with confusion riddled on your face. satoru won’t lie and say he doesn’t get it. one minute you’re experiencing the worst cramp of your life and the next, the pain is alleviated and a half-dressed man is staring at you from the top of an abandoned grocery store.

maybe he could call in sick.

do cupids get sick days? if so, satoru is sure he has plenty of PTO saved up to take the rest of the day off. maybe the effects of the arrows would wear off after some well deserved rest? perhaps you wouldn’t find a celestial being to be a good option for a romantic endeavor?

by the determined look in your features, that seems unlikely.

he can hear you stomp up the stairs of the building, the metal steps creaking with every press from your shoes. satoru finds himself growing nervous, a cold sweat lingering on his forehead and hands. the arrows must be having an effect on him already, because when you finally enter the rooftop, all he can think about is how underdressed he is for the occasion.

you are his perfect match, after all.

your hands rest on your hips, your eyes looking unreasonably lovesick. as satoru goes to explain himself, you interject.

“so are you like… cupid or something?” huh, you figured that out quicker than expected.

“well, i’m actually—“

“because if you are, you're… pretty bad at your job.” an apologetic look appears on your features, hands clasping together as you play with your fingers.

the white haired man lets out a scoff.

“for your information i’m a cupid. there’s like… thousands of us or something. if anyone should complain it’s me! trying to find you a match has been torture.”

your eyes brows furrow, your arms now moving to cross over your chest. you do that a lot, fidgeting. satoru imagines that you also feel the same heat that he does. it’s annoying, distracting.

there’s a twinkle in your eye, something close to teasing but not quite. “so you decided to just snatch me up for yourself? pretty drastic decision, no?”

“this,” his finger points at the space between you, “was an accident. i was trying to get you with that pink haired kid.”

“yuuji? he has a boyfriend, stupid.”

“cupid and yes, i know that now.”

“the heart eyes he was making at megumi wasn’t enough for you?”

“megu– isn’t that a girl name?”

“why are you even here?” you ask, deciding to ignore his comment for now.

satoru sighs, removing his quiver to show the arrows on his back. “i’m a cupid, remember? i’m helping humans fall in love for the holiday! you were on my list but…” he glances down at his finger. “there were complications.”

you nod slowly, a ghost of an arrow now lingering in your lower back. “so, what now? i’ve never exactly been with a cupid before.”

your companion hums, glancing down at the coffee shop across the street. “well i’ve never even spoken to a human before so, i think you’re at an advantage.”

it’s at this moment that your stomach rumbles, an embarrassingly loud sound that can’t be covered up by the sounds of people commuting around you.

“maybe…” you start, walking towards him. “we can grab a bite to eat?”

he doesn’t have the heart to tell you that eating isn’t necessary for his kind. “since i’m going to probably get fired anyway? sure. might as well.”

you smile and extend a hand to him. satoru takes it, though that same burning only gets worse, traveling up his arm and down the back of his neck.

“lead the way, little human.”

it was going to be a long day.

note: this was definitely supposed to be longer but no matter how hard i tried the words were not coming, lmao. hopefully y’all enjoy this little valentine’s day drabble anyway!

MISSROKI. all original work. do not plagiarize, translate, or repost. this includes feeding my work to ai apps and sites.

#‧₊˚ 🖇️ ۫ ⭒ — sorin writes.#gojo x reader #gojo x female reader #gojo x black reader #gojo fluff #gojo fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x female reader #jjk x black reader #jjk fluff #cw blood

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hollowdeath · 4 months

Text

more of my own personal headcanons about harry <3

sharing clothes would be his favorite thing in the world. he'd love seeing you in his biggest hoodies/sweaters, fawning over how cute you look with them hanging off you. he'd get particularly happy when you sleep in them, waking up in the morning with messy hair wearing an old t-shirt of his. he'd also love getting them back & still being able to smell you on them.

always tapping, drumming, & fidgeting with his hands. always itching to do something, can't sit still for more than 2 seconds. gets lost in his thoughts constantly. always drifting off in his own world & accidentally missing parts of conversations.

cooking breakfast for you is the best way for him to start his day. he knows exactly how you like your tea, eggs, pancakes, even your favorite cereals and oatmeals. he'll sit in bed with you and just chat while you eat, asking how you like it as he eats his toast.

BEST gift-giver ever. like seriously. this kid knows exactly what to get someone, anyone, for both birthdays & christmases, & he always outdoes himself. always carefully listening & taking notes anytime you mention something you saw that you liked or thought about getting. tries to get you things you would never treat yourself to; money's no object when it comes to your look of surprise & joy opening his gifts.

again, physical touch is his love language, but he particularly LOVES when you play with his hair. he'll just lay his head in your lap hoping you'll get the hint & start running your fingers through his soft hair. he doesn't really like having long hair, but he certainly likes when you have more to play with, so he grows it out just for you. if he's especially stressed out or can't sleep the only thing that can bring him back to earth is your hands tangled in his hair.

constantly doing little good deeds even when people aren't around. picks up trash/litter he sees, leaves generous tips everywhere he goes, casts a quick spell to help someone in need, & always makes it a point to talk to more introverted people to make them comfortable around him. always gives the best advice when he notices someone struggling.

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elsweetheart · 5 months

Note

omg idk if this is ok to ask since you’ve never written for hazel but like what do you think her reaction to you mindlessly wearing a super short skirt in front of her would be like… maybe ur like freshly into the relationship n didn’t have sex yet so she’d go crazy i 🤭

no because she’s so silly and awkward but like so horny ♡

waiting in line for your iced latte at the university cafe and she’s backed up a few steps, literally removing her arm from around your shoulder so she can ogle at you without looking like a total creep. you look back to glance at her and she nearly does a full spin trying to pretend she wasn’t looking — and she wasn’t! honest! she was trying to read the rhinestone lettering on the tiny pink skirt that just happened to be spelling something out across your ass!

you didn’t even say anything or acknowledge her gaze, and yet excuses come tumbling suddenly — “n-no—i wasn’t — you had a…” she waves her hand like she’s casting a fucking spell, mumbling something about a stain and your attention is captured again by the barista handing over your drink, paying no attention to hazels rambling as it certainly wasn’t out of character. it’s only back in the safety of your dorm when she brings it up again, because she quite literally cannot keep her eyes off the skirt so she figured she should say something, you know out of politeness.

“so, ‘that a new skirt or?” she trails off hoping it sounded casual and nonchalant. you stand from where you’re sat at your desk, absolutely elated that she noticed the tiny skirt you wore just for her, and she’s breaking into a grin of her own at how cute you were when you were excited. god, she was down dreadful.

“yes! i literally went to get it from the post room yesterday, it’s so cute — it says spoiled across the ass look!” you turn around, twisting at the waist to look down at it yourself. hazels eyes widen naturally, rubbing her sweaty hands on her knees, self soothing so she didn’t nut in her pants there and then. the swell of your ass peeks from beneath the skirt, having ridden up and her mouth waters. she wants to bite the flesh there, not in a weird way or anything just… shit.

“y—i mean, yeah it’s…” she stands up, wandering over to you gently slapping her fist into the palm of her opposing hand, smile fading into more of a smirk— not cocky just… relaxed. whatever it was, it made you bat your lashes a little. “you kinda have this thing where you look good in everything you wear?” she squints, leaning back a little, her voice getting higher as if she was gently breaking news to you. “but the skirt is really pretty. you’re really pretty.” she smiles simply.

you feel all hot in the face and appreciated, rolling your glossy lips over eachother (which she doesn’t miss, her eyes flickering downwards chanting ‘oh fuck’ in her head undoubtably.) “well im glad. i did buy it because like… i don’t know, wanted you to like it.” you get all shy on her and she smiles even bigger.

“well i definitely do. a little too much.”

you giggle and so does she, your fingers interlocking where they hang before you lift them up, looking up sweetly through your lashes to kiss the ring on her knuckle. she shouldn’t get a shiver up her spine from that, because it was pretty innocent— but she was having some urges all of a sudden. she gently shakes a hand free and cups your cheek. “you uh— missed my mouth.” her voice gets breathy towards the end of the sentence as she closes in, pressing her lips to yours.

#anon #hazel callahan drabble #hazel bottoms drabble #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan prompt #hazel callahan blurb

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cassiopeiasdaughter · 7 months

Text

mirrorball

Theodore Nott x fem!reader

warnings: language, mentions of stress and an existential crisis? not proofread

summary: you are stressed and tired from being the one that takes care of everyone, and a concerned Slytherin boy wants to help

this was requested by @lalalenka and Paula 💛 for my celebration Theodore masterlist

When did life get so heavy? When did play dates turn into study sessions? When did begging your mom to check for monsters under your bed, turn into you crying into your pillow over your worries and fears? When did reality start feeling so real?

You think about that often, especially at nights, when your friends are asleep and you can remove the mask you wear, the face of happiness and optimism. You don’t have to play the part of the person who has everything under control when you are alone, you can be yourself, lost and afraid.

You are currently sitting in the Great Hall, waiting for your friends to come down for breakfast, start yet another busy day together. You woke up earlier today, exam season is coming up and sleep is something you struggle with, during those times. You know, your friends always wake up too late, that’s why you’ve grabbed their favorite pastries from the breakfast table, so you can hand them later on your way to class. It’s peaceful like this, sipping your coffee alone, planning your day as you eat; quietly going over everything you need to do-

“Are you alright?”, you hear a voice interrupting you from your thoughts

It’s Theodore Nott, you realize as you raise your head. Theodore, Theo is not a friend of yours. He is a boy from your year, a Slytherin, that you occasionally talk to during class.

You see him at the library almost everynight, you two are always the last ones to leave. Your study dates, as you like to call them, began during 5th year; when you were hunched over a tome of Arithmancy begging yourself to understand, what the passage in front of you was saying, but failing miserably. That’s when you felt his hand on your shoulder, asking, if you accidentally cast a spell on yourself.

“I can’t understand anything.”, you remember whining and he spent the night tutoring you. You offered him help in DADA, in return and you ended up studying together for your OWLs. You like to think that you passed with good grades thanks to him, but he doesn’t agree.

Theo, is someone you feel calm and safe enough around to not fake your feelings or thoughts, most of the times, at least. Again, he isn’t your friend, but he isn’t a stranger or a mere acquaintance either. What he is exactly, that you can’t answer.

“I’m fine, why?”, you reply looking at him confused

“You’ve run out of bread for your butter.”, he says taking a seat across from you.

You stare down and see that you’ve been spreading butter on a slice of bread for so long that you’ve made a hole in the middle, with crumbs all over your plate.

Before, you can say or do anything he places a large piece of toast in front of you, with butter and blueberry jam, just how you like it.

“See you later.”, he calls out as he leaves, not giving you the time to thank him.

You spend breakfast with a smile on your face, your day suddenly feeling warmer and brighter.

“Goodmorning!”, you hear your best friend singing, while she wraps her arms around you and takes a seat.

“Morning to you too.”, you say laughing and hand her her favorite chocolate cake the one that always runs out first.

“What would I do without you?”, she says cheeks stuffed and crumbs falling everywhere- a sight that makes you laugh and always reminds you how much you love her.

“Probably still wandering around the forbidden forest.”, you say laughing, and cutting a corner from her cake

“That was ages ago, please let it go.”

“Never, now come on, we’ll be late.”, you giggle at her protests and drag her to class.

Theo isn’t brave or daring, if he were, his friends wouldn’t be giving him such a hard time about his crush and his approach, the lack of action mainly.

“You keep going like that, you won’t be in the friend zone, you’ll be in the study buddy zone, which is far force.”, Blaise warned him. But what was he to do about that? You had different friend groups and your schedules didn’t match. Was he supposed to just ask you to Hogsmeade out of the blue?

“Yeah so this is the proper movement for the spell, now what are you doing Saturday?”, no way would he ever say that.

“Yeah, you’ll be associated with Ancient Runes Theo, no one finds that hot.”, Pansy commented- to which he responded with an eye roll.

“Maybe, I don’t want to do something about it.”, he said to his friends

“Keep pining then.”, Draco replied

“Maybe I will.”, and with that he stood up and left, wanting to take a walk and clear his thoughts, ignore his friends and their unfortunately correct but not practical opinions. It was fine, he would get over it and he would be fine.

He would not be fine, he told himself as soon as he saw you, second time for today; laughing with your friends- pestering them to drink water- running around with bottles in your hands.

His eyes light up by the way you giggle as you talk to them, maybe you are telling a story- he can’t understand, but your gestures and facial features- the way you look; alive and loud and beautiful, they send shocks down his spine.

He knows it’s cheesy and stupid, but to him you are the sun. You are warm to others, always making your friends laugh- you take care of them, sometimes to the point of neglecting yourself. But, you are loving and kind and you light up any place you step into. It’s a shame, really, because he is nothing like the sun- he is dark and reserved, but still, your light doesn’t blind him, it could never.

“Hi Theo.”, you wave as he passes by, in a much better mood than you were this morning and he waves back with a smile, taking longer strides to leave your eyesight and maybe hide in a broomcloset?

It was getting really late and you were still in the library studying. You had so much homework and revising to do, and at some point you needed to tutor third years and prepare for dueling battles. Everything was too much, and you had no one to help you. You didn’t know how to ask your friends for help, you’d spent the past six years being the responsible one- the mom friend, you had everything under control and cared for others. The roles couldn’t be reversed now. But, it made you feel so alone, the alienation adding another weight on your chest.

“Hey.”, you hear Theo’s voice, in a soft whisper and raise your head to look at him, his books are closed and stacked in front of him, signaling he is getting ready to leave.

You spent all afternoon studying together, and it had started fine- you felt productive for the first hour, but after a while, words had stopped making sense.

“It’s really late, do you want to leave the rest for tomorrow?”

“I have one chapter left, you don’t have to wait for me, g-goodnight.”, you dismiss him with a smile

But he doesn’t leave and you look at him with eyebrows raised high.

“One chapter.”, he whispers innocently lightly holding his hands in front of him, before he opens up a book, pretending to study.

You scoff at that and lower your head once more, to the passage in front of you. Letters are dancing in the page taunting you- catch us, they say, try to make sense of this. You are tired and Theo looking at you, concerned, isn’t helping your brain focus. You wait five, maybe seven minutes before you let out a quiet groan and say, “Fine, lets go.”, meeting Theo and the stupid satisfied look on his face.

The way back to your dorm is quiet, you are both tired from schoolwork and the lack of sleep is another crack on the mask you wear near others. You bite down at your lip nervously, as you think all of the work you didn’t get done, and all the extra homework you’ll have to finish tomorrow. You think of your friends and the parties they are begging you to go to and the Hogsmeade outings you’ve missed due to being exhausted. You think of their grades and how easy it is for them to succeed, while you spend hours in the library and still fail. You think about the future and how you don’t know what you want it to look like, and you think about life and how small you seem compared to the world.

You don’t feel the tears that slide down your cheeks, or the water in your eyes- blocking your sight. You understand you’re crying, only when a sob escapes your mouth, one that has been begging to come out for the longest time. After that, it is inevitable for you to break down, not caring about Theo and what he’ll think of you, or about the prefects who’ll come running thinking there’s been an accident in the hallways. But he calls your name, and that ruins you even more.

“‘M sorry.”, you whine- crying and turn your body away from him, lowering yourself on the ground wishing you could disappear.

“What is it? Is it that stupid Potions chapter? I’ll help you with that, don’t cry over that.”, he says panicking, kneeling behind you.

“No, no, it’s not- it’s everything. It’s all too much.”

“What is?”, he asks calmly, placing a hand on your shoulder hesitantly- you don’t tense at his touch, your body relaxes and you turn around- your face wet and red staring at him.

“Everything; school, life, everything.”, you whimper, “I have so much to do, but I can’t- I can’t. And everyone expects me to have everything under control, but I don’t, and I can’t do it anymore.”, you exclaim placing your head in the palm of your hand.

“No one expects you to have everything under control, it’s- it’s impossible to do.”

“Yes, they do! If I am not there for everyone, if I let them see how lost I feel, they-”

“They'll what? Leave you?”, he asks shaking his head at what you’re saying

“No, yes, maybe, I don’t know. They won’t be able to handle it- I am sure.”

“Even if that were true.”, he says slowly, releasing your head from your hands, urging you to look at him, “If you can’t let your friends see, then you can show me. You can talk to me, don’t keep all that inside. There are enough self-sacrificing idiots in the Gryffindor Tower, we don’t need one more.”, he jokes and you let out a small laugh

“Why would you want to be bothered with my issues?”

“I- you, you don’t have to always be the person who cares for everyone, you can-should be the one cared for.”

“Why?”, you ask again, the air shifting between you into something different. Something that moves the pain from your chest and turns it into butterflies in your stomach.

“Ah- well-“, he let’s out a breath, “- because I- I like spending time with you, and I want to be there for you, besides, I can handle anything you shoot at me.”, he finishes; his face red and sweaty.

You have stopped crying now, your vision is still blurry and your breath uneven- but something inside you has changed. As if, a bright light has found it’s way inside, providing hope and something new- something you haven’t felt before, but desperately want to keep.

“Thank you.”, you say softly and let him help you up, you two resuming your walk but with a different destination this time.

“Come.”, he says and offers his hand- which you gladly take, letting him guide you wherever.

You walk outside, and let the cool air hit you- ground you. It’s late at night, you are at Hogwarts, near the lake, you are at your 7th year and next to you, stands Theodore Nott, your study partner Theo. The Slytherin boy- that looks handsome but has no clue, the brilliant Theo, who always helps you out and is willing to listen. Theo, who is still holding your hand while pointing at stars and constellations with his other. Theo, who smells like pine and fireplace, as you lean against him and listen to his voice. Theo, who you can count on and thanks to whom you know it will be okay. Everything will be okay.

A/N: life will be okay with or without Theo Nott, you all deserve to be happy and loved, just needed to remind y'all :)

Theo taglist: @avalynlestrange @spacecadet16 @lucy-is-never-logical @aleviia @marina468 @annaisabookworm @liarajoah @notasadgirlipromise @pariseffer @unlikelysadgirl @ktz-bb @lizisthecoolest

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theo nott #theo nott imagine #theo nott x reader #theodore nott fluff #Theodore Nott hurt/comfort #fluff #hurt/comfort

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sweetpandorabox · 1 year

Text

Fred Weasley as a boyfriend 💥🦁

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨sweetpandorabox୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…⋙

Warnings ⚠️: Slight mentioned of sexual themes and some spicy stuff.

Dating this troublemaker yet funnier and sexy twin could include:

👨🏻‍🦰🪦🧹

He's very affectionate in a playful kind of way, for example, he can pick you up like a ragdoll and would playfully threaten to throw you in the black lake, tackle hugs, rest his chin right on top of your head because he's built like a tree, smacks your ass, pinch your cheeks and harmless prank here and there to make you laugh.

He's lowkey the jealous type but plays it off well and hides it away from you because if you caught him jealous he knows you'll never drop it.

Still flirts and tease you like you guys aren't already dating. Sending a wink and smile your way and whispering dirty yet clever pickup lines all the time to see you blush.

Him being lowkey a bad influence on you by taking you along and breaking the school rules to pull pranks, but somehow the best memories that the two of you have together are of breaking rules and being silly teenagers together.

Pulling faces, sending notes, hitting you with paper balls at you during classes to get your attention if he isn't sitting next to you, because if there's anything that Fred loves most it's your attention.

You guys have a deal, he teaches you how to juggle, cartwheel and cast cool spells in return for you helping him with his school work.

He loves PDA and is not ashamed of it and would pull it anywhere he could, in some occasions he's gotten told to keep his hand off you just for an hour until class ends by numerous different professors.

The both of you have a special place where you're able to just hold each other and snog whenever you feel like it, so to mark the place Fred carved both of your initials inside of a big heart on a nearby tree by that spot so everyone knows who this place belongs to.

Stealing all of his knitted sweaters and hoodies because they're much larger on you, but then he asks Molly to make one for you this Christmas with your initial on it and you got super excited that you wear it every day for a month.

Likes when you call him Freddie, Baby, Good-looking, Spitfire, or Casanova (you call him that before the both of you started dating and still use it at times).

He calls you cute nicknames like Baby, Lover-Girl, Sexy, or Sunshine.

His love language is probably quality time because spending time with you and making memories with you is what he cherishes most.

He stares at you all the time and can't keep his eyes off you, one time he full-on ditched his school work and was looking at you focusing on your own thing while he plays with your ponytail the entire time.

Molly adores you because of how much the both of you bonded through food, she teaches you how to make Fred's favorite meal and she encourages you to stay over at the burrow as much as possible because to be honest, she likes how Fred is when you're around and Molly may or may not like you more than Fred.

Asks for messages after a rough Quidditch practice or games that usually elevate to something more... a.k.a sex.

He asks for your opinion on the joke shop products he and George have come up with but doesn't dare make you try them because he doesn't want to see you hurt or be embarrassed.

Dance party inside his shared dorm room with snacks when everyone is away and blaring out his phonograph with the weird sister's newest record player album.

Him sneaking into your shared dorm room quietly and frequently because he wants to sleep with you and not in his own bed, so it's not unusual for your roommates to see a shirtless Fred cuddling you in the morning.

Joking and confusing new people who don’t understand your relationship; Are you dating? Enemies? Friends? (but in the end, he can't keep his hands off you anyways so they're bound to know)

Him leaving all of his classes early just so he can meet you outside and escort you to your next class so he can have those extra moments with you.

Taglist:

@igncrantbliss @milivanili99 @thatdummy-girl

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mommypieck · 6 months

Text

𑄽୧ size kink with inumaki 𔓘 ᰍ

kinktober day 26: so mean and rough!!!

✿ inumaki toge x reader

✿ warnings: reader bullies toge, creep toge, knife usage, knife play, non con to dub con to ???, dark content, p in v, creampie, inumaki uses his cursed speech to get consent so noncon!!!

Inunaki had an eye on you for a little whine. Always lurking behind something just to see your figure. He was star-struck by you. The main reason he fell in love instantly was your beautiful body.

You were bigger than him. He never thought it would turn him so much, but here you were. And it wasn't just your high even though you were good 20 cm taller than him. He also loved the plush of your stomach. Every time, you would wear a tighter dress, he could see the fabric stretch around your belly. And he's not even talking about your boobs.

"Did you follow me again, creep?" you spit into his face, putting both of your hands next to his head. He knows he should feel scared, but he's so turned on right now, he wants to smirk. He wants to laugh that he finally got this close to you.

"What? Can't you speak?" you heard the rumors about the mute kid who spoke only to get other people to do what he wanted, but you never paid attention to it. After all, he's just a creep who wouldn't stop following you everywhere. At this point, you can't even cross the street without him going in the opposite direction.

"Oh, fuck you. I don't have time to deal with people like you-" You freeze when a knife blade is pressed against your stomach. Your eyes go wide, and before you can say anything, he mutters, "Shut up."

Your mouth locks shut, and as much as you try to speak, no words leave your mouth. You look around for help, but the whole corridor is empty except for the two of you. There's only one thing you can do, run to the door. You sprint away from him, trying to get away before he uses his knife on you.

"stop."

Your body freezes at the stop, and you turn away to see him walking right up to you.

"Lay down."

"I gonna have my way with you now." he smiles down at you, caressing your cheek with the knife blade. He doesn't waste any time taking your boobs in your hands. They feel even bigger and firmer in his hands. He thought you were at least a DD cup, but you might be even bigger. A blade pierces through your shirt, ripping it to shreds. You want to scream at him, but it's for no use.

"Come on, I know you like it," he says and hot feelings spread around your whole body. As much as you were disgusted by him, suddenly his touch feels good. And when you look up at him, he's not that ugly you thought he was.

He sits on your stomach, looking at your boobs as if it was the prettiest art in the whole world. He doesn't even know if he should touch such art. It's great that you aren't wearing a bra so that he has easy access, but he wants to take off your bra next time so he can watch them fall and so that he knows how to unclip the bra.

His whole body feels so small compared to yours. He feels like a kitten that sits on your stomach. inumaki can't help but lay down on your body, kissing your neck. He reaches for your mouth so he can slide his tongue inside of it. It's messy and overall disgusting, and you're sure, he's never done this before… but you feel good. It's probably before that spell he cast on you, but you're not complaining.

He finally gets to your panties, examining how he should cut them. It would be such a waste to cut something as precious as this. After some thinking, he pulls them down your legs, smiling hard when he notices your juices coating them.

He wants to eat you out so badly, he thinks to himself. But his cock screams for attention. He spends so much time with his cock in his fist to waste any more time.

He pulls out his cock, and you moan from the size of it. He's a bit bigger than the others, it's true, and he loves the reaction he got from you.

His fingers swipe through your juices, collecting your juices in his hands. He covers his cock in your juices before slamming inside of you without any warning. You yelp, your fingers digging into his back. He's mean, and he doesn't give you any time to adjust to his length.

His thrusts show that he's pretty inexperienced, maybe even a virgin. That's probably true because nobody wants to get close to him, let alone fuck him. But god, he feels so fucking good. You can't believe you got so wet just for him, even though it's probably him who did something to your body that made you this wet. he abuses your pussy in the best way imaginable, fucking his cock through your hole so godly.

Louder moans espace your mouth when he finally hits your sweet spot. He chuckles, knowing that he finally found it. He focuses on your g spot, hips stuttering right into it. You want to show him how to use his big cock to make you feel even better, but right now, this is enough for you. Slowly but surely, he's bringing you to your orgasm.

You can feel that he's close too. He can't focus on anything else other than your pussy, his cock getting lost inside of you. His hips are unorganized and messy, but it's more than enough to make you cum. Your whole vision goes white as you cum around his cock, shaking under his body.

The unbelievable tightness of your cunt brings him right over the edge too, and he cums inside of you, much to your scream. Finally, now you realize what you let him do. he watches as his cum spills out of your pussy with a satisfied smirk.

"You're the worst," you tell him, still lying on the ground while he dresses.

"I might be, but you can't help but cum just from seeing me," he says, your whole body tensing again as you cum. You can't believe what just happened, how is he able to do that?

"I'm gonna forgive you for your attitude. after all, you love me."

he doesn't seem so bad after all.

taglist: @mcharris747 @huuuuut30 @krispsprite @bejewelledd @cawwn @veryninjanacho @jamayah @dngerwayz @nwptune @universlypiratecolor @ffakegucci @merachannie @d1lf-luvr @th3girln3xtdoor @nobody289x @iheartpieck @gia999 @kawasgirl @st4rrlighttt @candyeyeroll @7haze @banchangsbbbg @nigthmar3moon @softlilpeachxx @d1gitalbathh @jaenniii @raeeesblog @satorustar @balenciagarette @erp1007

#jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #toge inumaki x you #toge inumaki smut #toge inumaki x reader #toge inumaki x y/n

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undercoverpena · 7 months

Text

comfort came against my will

gif credit to @perotovar

joel miller x f!reader summary: it’ll begin with a little beg, a whispered plea—fingers wrapping around his chin, mouth ghosting over his: Let me ride you, Miller.

word count: 1.8k warnings: smut, p in v, jo's spelling and poetic nature. dedication: happy birthday to my friend, @swiftispunk - i know you love Joel, and i hope you love this. special thanks to @perotovar for letting me use their beautiful GIF that inspired half of my imagery, if not all of it.

There’s something about heavy rainfall.

The way it’s cleansing, renewing—almost reinvigorating, depending on when the last time it fell.

Joel found that the only downside is the scent it leaves behind.

Once, a long time ago, it used to leave behind a smell that others wished to bottle—a wish to burn it in candles or hang cheap versions from their car’s centre mirror in haphazardly cut-out trees.

Now, it has an aroma that reminds him of death. A stench which has dug itself into the hairs in his nose, unwilling to let go—clinging, desperate not to be forgotten.

But, you like the rain.

He'll always find you near the window when it pours, eyes tracing the droplets. Your chair purposefully, and with all intentions, pointing to the muck-covered window. Nothing more perfect, you’d murmur—fingers wrapped around one of the crystal glasses the two of you discovered on a run, pressing it to your cheek, off-coloured liquid sloshing as you sigh.

He’s pretty sure he could name a few other things more perfect than rain, but he does find it hard to argue that it isn't the most perfect soundtrack when your thighs are on either side of him.

Especially when the weather is like this. Where a flash of lightning can illuminate you, casting you in a brief spotlight that kisses over your curves and the evidence of your survival.

Tonight, it begins with you draining your glass, turning your head, eyes shimmering as you move from your place, coming to join him on the bed.

Your fingers, both a little rough and soft, wrap around his chin, before a little beg, a whispered plea fills the air—mouth ghosting over his: Let me ride you, Miller.

He couldn’t argue, would never protest. But, your mouth stealing any words he wishes to say. Because he likes having you under him—pinned, close, unable to look anywhere but directly at him. For when you stare, you make everything else pale in comparison. Made the world around mute, it all fading to nought.

You do so with ease, with a single look. One he imagines has always been there, all very much you, even if the state of things has tried to steal it away. He can easily imagine a younger you modelling it, one without the stress lines of living, it all softer, gentler.

Joel doesn’t mind that isn't the case now. He doesn't care for gentle or soft. He likes how sharp you are, that you can cut, wound and make him bleed. He enjoys that, even if he doesn’t deserve anything from you, you stand side-by-side with him, choosing him—wanting and needing, all raised brow with a smirk to match.

If you listen, the rain is telling us something.

You're close to his ear as you mumble it, lips ghosting down his cheek before a clap of thunder steals the phantoms of your whispered echo.

His hands fan over your hips, pushing up one of his tees that you're wearing, sliding it up with his thumbs—feeling how your skin moves, shifts, lengthening over your muscles and bones. His mind busy, occupied, only thinking about how beautiful you are, even when drenched in darkness.

How you’re all untouched except the few scars, the nips and scratches left by those who wished to end you, but found that you weren’t so easy to dispose of.

Joel knows that you’re vicious, all sharp teeth and a menace with a knife many shouldn’t ever want to meet in a dark alley, not that the world has cottoned on. Each try, each fail. He often watches, in awe, pleased, because you're like him. So smooth in the way you're prepared to split someone open, coat your boots in their ichor as the rest of them spill out. Leaving him, often, battling his feelings at the sight.

But while he knows that side of you, Joel also knows the other you.

The one who still believes the rain is romantic. A soul who wishes for a pretty print on a dress, even if you'll only wear it in the four walls of the place you two share. Modelling it for him, dipping your toe into a fantasy with him. You also like the little things, such as a pair of matching glasses, enjoying that they belong together, a metaphor for something you clearly desperately crave.

If he were an honest man, one not ripped to shreds and put together all wrong, he’d tell you you’re a more perfect sight than rain. Not just when you’re sitting on top of him or when you’re under him; not just when you’re panting, venom in your eyes and splattered with cherry-red. But, when you’re just beside him.

Breathing, existing, sleeping.

He’d tell you that you’re an image perfectly cut out of an old version of his happy ever after, slapped down and glued beside him now, even when he’s all tragedy and tragic. That your darkness dances with his faultlessly—making him less alone.

That for you, he’d want to be better, which included letting you go—even if you’re pulling him close—because a man such as him, with hands stained and scarred with horrors, shouldn’t get to touch smeared perfection. That you’re not really poisoned or rotten, just living, fighting—claws digging into the soil, all desperate for another moment.

It’s why he lets you have your fun, and then he flips you under him, palm to your cheek, stare burning into yours.

What’s it tryin’ to tell us? The rain.

You fit him inside of you perfectly—just like you’ve fitted yourself in his space. You’re all knotted around him, heat warm—inviting. Your thighs pressing close, legs crossing behind him, aiding, helping.

Not because you don’t think he’d get you there, but because you’re conscientious, caring—it appears in smaller gestures others wouldn’t notice, but he sees them. Bottles them. Keep them close when you’re not beside him.

Not that he shows it.

Unsure once again, for the billionth time since you stood beside him (and never left), what you see in him—what you think he can give you. Because he’s old, worn, somewhat broken beyond repair—not that it stops you from trying.

“More, Joel. Please.”

You don’t call him pet names, but he hears them in the silence.

They quiver and talk in hushed voices in the kitchen that is covered in grime and not fit for a beauty such as yourself. Some even sprout on his tongue, a fresh seedling, all untouched and unruined—not yet weeded from his throat.

He finds it harder to not let them fall when you sound as pretty as you do. When your nails press half-moons into his skin, leaving a tale of your own in his forearms and biceps, meeting him with everything you have as your walls tighten, delightfully, a match made in hell—because heaven would never allow him. Or you now, he supposes.

It’s why his thumb slides between the two of you, licked with his spit, mixing with the slick against your swollen clit. You gasp, spraying sweetness around the air that's heavy-layered with sex.

He’s forever starving, never quenched—a need for you that runs deeper than mere living and existing. Not ever able to purge you from his system, never wanting to either. Because you’re entangled with him, rooted, anchored inside of him so you can bob along and never go under.

Not that he’d let you.

Joel would never.

His hips punctuate that sentiment. Wanting you to know it, driving them in, so the words don’t go in one ear and out the other. He aims to stamp them in you, fuck them so deep into you you’ll never forget. The sound of skin on skin, groan and grunt, all filling the space, evidence of his determination, swirling around your returning breath, still moaning, murmuring—all scratchy and rough.

“—Let go, Joel. Fill me.”

It rips from him, your name.

Each letter is important, each sound giving the attention it deserves as it coats the air—mouth finding the space between your ear and neck, kissing, teeth nipping.

“Stuff me full.”

The rain hammers heavier, beating its fists against the glass as though it’ll only calm when he does as you’ve asked. As though you and nature are tied together, bonded—the real pairing made in paradise.

It’s then your lips find his, sloppy, messy, all uncoordinated. He can taste the bitterness of your drink on your tongue and the pleasure he’d given you. His mouth lapping it up, licking into yours, tongue far past your teeth as he grips you a little tighter, ruts into you a little deeper—as if hoping there’s more of you to explore, more vastness he can leave a mark on.

It's muffled, but you cut the air with his name as if your tongue is a blade. Your body tightens, mouth ripped from his as you bare your throat, chin lifted, eyes closed as it washes over you and your walls become a vice, hugging his cock in a way no one else ever has.

He's close.

So close.

Another flash, it all bright, exposing the sweat collected on your skin, the path it has made between your breastbone, the way your body looks under him.

Then it’s electric, ripping through him as he stains, writing you’re his all in thick ropes of white—his hips stuttering, slowing, riding it out what it is you do to him. It’s a feeling akin to being folded inside out and then put back again—making his muscles tense and relax, his bones forget they ache, as his throat burns with the force of his exclamation.

It’s minutes, little seconds clumping up until an expanse of time collects, and he’s ready to leave the space between your thighs.

Your eyes on him, all unwavering, mapping his features as though you’re an artist, ready to make him into a sculpture.

He doesn’t tell you to stop, he's learnt his lesson from doing as such—eyes ablaze, full of molten, words sharp as ice, all a twisted juxtaposition as you lay into him all the ways you were, are and am enamoured by him.

He’s sure his list is longer, but he swallowed that, too.

Joel had just nodded, left you angry for half an evening until his arms wrapped around you, and he felt you melt, less lava and more a candle-lit flame licking at him until he took you to bed.

Even if a scrap of time has passed since then, Joel is still no closer to finding himself comfortable with the look—the one he suspects comes with words. Ones you don’t thankfully spill, but ones he would mean just as much if he really asked himself.

It isn’t until you tap him, that he moves. You’re more nimble, quicker on your feet to fetch a rag to clean yourself and then him. Each touch delicate, your stare concentrated before the cloth is cast to some corner—a thing you’ll move and clean tomorrow.

And then, you’re beside him, finding the place you usually choose—all intentional, willingly given—as his arm finds itself around you. A flash of lightning displaying the two of your shadows pressed together, merged in ways the two of your souls are.

Swallowing, he finds your stare is back on the window, the world outside painting its own version of a masterpiece.

“Y’never said what the rain’s telling us.”

You smile, before you lift up your chin, looking at him through your brows. “Just stories. The rain likes to tell stories.”

an: ily, han.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #tlou fanfic #hbo the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfic #joel miller smut #pedrostories

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phas3d · 2 months

Text

Toxic Traits || Slytherin Boys

type :: angst

tw/cw :: manipulation, violence, almost dubcon (theo)

contains :: tom, mattheo, theodore, lorenzo

summary :: their worst toxic traits - i always see these but it's the same stuff everytime and i wanna add some new traits that are toxic imo (i need goddess by laufey to come out RIGHT NOW IM SOBBING ON THE TOILET)

TOM RIDDLE overly controlling

You knew that getting with Tom meant a lot of things about you would need to be changed in order to fit his life style, because God forbid he change himselfIt was foul tasting, you went into this knowing how bad Tom was yet still craved him like how little kids eat slime.

Quitting some clubs was fine, you didn't care for them that much anyways and hanging out with Tom in the library to sit in silence was SO much more fun.

Seeing your close friends was out of the picture completely because Tom didn't understand why you would need anyone besides him. Having friends was an indirect insult to him since it mean he wasn't fulfilling you enough.

Picking your own clothes was banned from day 1 once you got together, because how you were perceived also reflected onto him. He was head boy after all, he had a reputation to keep up. Not to mention he was the future heir to Voldemort's evil plan, meaning you needed to be perfect in every way.

Everything you said from now on would be chosen by Tom. Every morning Tom would cast a spell to be able to enter your brain so he could give you every answer to say. It didn't matter that it was potions class or flying class, he would tell you what to say.

If he had any reason to believe you were being mischevious or planning anything without his knowledge, he would use "legilimens" at any time of day when he wanted to, because he had a right to your own mind. He forced himself in your brain, viewing every traumatic event and happy event you've had. And if he didn't like those memories, he would change them.

At first you thought he would take your traumatic memories, making you happier and fuller of life. But, he took your happiest memories and mended them to fit his face into it. Memories of your mother brushing your hair and calling you beautiful were wiped away and replaced with Tom calling you beautiful, despite him never ever saying that.

Dating Tom leads to you becoming a shell, an empty hallow shell with no life besides the life Tom planned. And no matter how much you tried to fight back, rebel, or plead for mercy, it was too late. Once you agree to be his, he forever has ownership of you.

MATTHEO RIDDLE violent habits in front of you

Fighting was one of Mattheo's hobbies, no matter how much you begged him to stop. At first it was cute, he was saying it was so you could fix his wounds and so he could protect you from creeps. It was the first time you've ever felt protected by someone, safe to walk out at night and safe to wear whatever you wanted.

But overtime, his anger was seen in more places than you predicted. Gaming was a small one but you knew it was possible. He lost a game whilst playing with his friend and he angrily shoved him while laughing. You just though the was playing rough, but his friend got up whilst gently holding his new bruise that Mattheo just made. Mattheo said sorry and the two made up, simply "boys being boys".

In sports you would see this a lot too, but it was expected. He was the beater on the Quidditch team making him bound to be aggressive. But once Slytherin was down 50 points, he began to take matters into his own hands. He chucked a ball straight into the benched already injured Gryffindor team, earning him a red card and being benched himself.

Beating his own dorm room was unexpected since the dorms would heal any imperfections daily. But when you went to his dorm, you saw the huge holes in his wall that pierced through the drywall and almost into the brick walls behind it. He shrugged it off when you questioned him, saying he always does that to relieve stress when he runs out of weed or alcohol.

You ignored all of the red flags but then his ex girlfriend reached out to you over text. She wrote a long message sharing how Mattheo was toxic in every way possible. How he would gaslight and lie to her constantly, how he would cause scenes in public to embarrass her, and how he almost hit her. He got so angry to a point where he swung at her but she dodged it, running away from him and instantly telling the first professor she found.

After that, she broke up with him but he wasn't done with her. He spammed her with countless texts and calls, all of which were threats in some way about how if she ever spoke up he would find her. He even sent his friends to watch over her since the school separated the two. He even

THEODORE NOTT will cheat on multiple times (and guilt tripping)

He was one of the most wanted boys in Hogwarts, so when you started dating you felt honored. Out of all of the girls he could have chosen, he picked you and wanted you. Of course a few girls began to become bitter towards you but you didn't care, they were irrelevant anyways.

Everything was perfect in the beginning. He showed you off, went to every event you had, and even took you on multiple shopping sprees to buy whatever you wanted. Compliments from him would come every hour and each was sweeter than the last. It was just like the fairy tales you read and the ideal couples online.

But as time progressed, he wanted to do more too quickly. To him, sex was just a casual thing he could have whenever he wanted. But to you, it was much deeper and you wanted to have more time, which was completely reasonable since you've only been dating for about 3 weeks.

You expected him to be understanding like he usually was, to reassure you it was okay and he would wait. But instead, you met a shocked Theo as he shook his head to snap out of it. He asked you again, to double-check that you weren't joking and when you repeated yourself he was even more surprised. He scoffs, as if you just insulted him and he poked his cheek with his tongue.

From that day on, you noticed a shift in his attitude. His hourly compliments turned from hourly to 3 every day to 1 every day to none. His hugs and kisses were completely limited and only done when he was in public. Hanging out became rare, meaning you only saw each other during your shared classes.

You did everything you could to get him back, needing his love once more because you knew no other boy in this school was capable of treating you as well. But no matter what you did, he never was as sweet as he once was. It hurt, but you knew exactly why he was acting this way and you felt guilty despite knowing you shouldn't. So you decided to let into his wishes, allowing him to have sex with you.

You went to his dorm, ready to talk to him about it and give him consent (which you barely felt). But as you stepped into his already open dorm, you saw him banging some other girl on his bed. The same bed you two used to cuddle and laugh on, the same bed that he brushed your hair so delicately on, and the same exact bed where he first ever said "I love you".

But for some reason, as if he casted a spell on you, you couldn't bring yourself to feel angry at him but only disappointed in yourself for not fulfilling his wants. The girl in his bed scrambled away, throwing on random clothes and apologizing to you as she ran out whilst Theo sat there staring at you with a cold and emotional look.

His eyes were something you loved dearly about him because they were so filled with emotion, as if his soul was trapped into his eyes. You always hated when people said their eyes changed colors, but Theo's genuinely did.

And from his eyes, you could tell everything he wanted to say without even hearing his voice. You could hear the silence. The piercing silence in the room silently said, "It's your fault for not letting. I needed it and you couldn't fulfill what I needed, so I got a replacement."

You were hoping you would hear him say "It's not what it looks like!" or "I'm so sorry! I don't know what came over me!" but he didn't say anything, no defense. If anything, the pure embracement of his cheating was 100 times more hurtful than denial.

But for some strange reason, a stupid and idiotic voice came into your head to forgive him. To give him what he wants to keep him. To give up your whole self to secure the temporary happiness he would offer.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE prioritizes everything but you (and love bombing)

Everyone views Lorenzo as the boy who shouldn't be in Slytherin, the only good one, the pure and cute-sy one. But as you got further into your relationship, you realized it was simply an act. It wasn't fully wrong, Lorenzo did have sweet parts in him and he was better than 70% of the Slytherin boys but he still had major flaws. There's no way a man can be friends with Mattheo, Tom, and Theodore and not be toxic as well.

At first, he was amazing to you. Flowers, chocolates, dates, movie nights, and so much more. It was like the dream rom-coms you watched growing up. But overtime, he stopped showing love to you and focussed his attention back into his life.

You tried your best to be understanding, but once again you sat alone in your own room crying as you scrolled through everyone's Instagram stories. Post after post featured Lorenzo surrounded by girls and guys, drinking, smiling, and dancing. But you weren't even invited or even told of it at all. But Lorenzo seemed to be having fun.

It was like this every day for months on end as you waited for the sweet Lorenzo you once loved. It was as if his plan was just to woo you in and then continue on with his perfect life. All he needed to do to make it even more perfect was secure a beautiful girlfriend and then he was set,

No matter how much you begged or cried for him to come back, he never did. Not even when you were on your knees begging for him to at least spend the night with you because you missed him. He rolled his eyes and comforted you, obviously wanting to leave the entire time. His words were so perfect yet his facial expression and body language lacked, making you question how easy it was for him to say the perfect words only to never mean it.

Even when you threw up from stress of school work and insecurities stacking up on you, he sighed and held your hair back. His touch was so warm, you've been lacking it for ages. But once you barfed again, he instantly groaned and let go of your hair, letting your hair fall into your face and vomit. He quickly ran to the sink to clean himself and then leave the rooom, disgusted by you. He left you there, alone on the cold bathroom floor to clean yourself up.

Even when you were sobbing and having a full blown panic attack, he wasn't there for you. Your knees were shaking and you could barely stand, feeling as if your entire body was no longer yours. Air was impossible to collect into your lungs as if they were never inside of you in the first place. Tears streamed so heavily down your face that they crawled down your neck and your collarbones. But he never wiped a single tears, instead handing you a box of tissues while he stared at you with no expression on his face. Although your brain was running 100 miles per hour, you could tell his face was a mix of disgust and pity, as if he was a doctor helping his crazy patient.

And whenever you did try to leave, wanting better for yourself- he never let you. Once you'd say you wanted to leave, he'd get teary eyed and beg on all fours for you to take him back, chanting how he was so blinded and stupid and stress and blah blah blah. Yet you fell for it every time, because you knew that once you took him back it would be the honeymoon phase once again.

One time you did fully break up with him, tired of the mistreatment and love bombing. But once you went to class you saw everyone's eyes on you, whispering to each other about how you were apparently a "crazy ex girlfriend" who made Lorenzo ball his eyes out. When you went to confront him, you saw him panicking and barely being able to breathe: just like how you were when you begged for him to love you.

#slytherin boys #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x y/n #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire x y/n #angst #harry potter #harry potter x reader #one shot

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whorediaries-09 · 20 days

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i‘m craving rom weasley smut and im so happy you’re taking requests!!😩

how about ron x girlfriend!reader having passionate and hottttttt sex in the kitchen one night while they’re visiting his family. they have to be quiet because one thing about their relationship is, that they’re almost never casting a quiet spell because it’s just so exciting if there’s a possibility of being caught🤭

just imagine her on the counter and him pounding her and it’s soooo hard to be quiet!! and apparently they weren’t really that quiet because the next morning fred says „how’d you two sleep?“ with suuuuuch a big smirk on his face👀

ughhhh i love this request so much ⭐❗ ron was actually my first fictional crush. hope you like this!

heaven and back;

pairing- ron weasley x reader warning(s)- 18+ content. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- it's like that one scene in where harry and ginny were caught kissing and george was like 'morning'-

little train

' she went to heaven and back now everything is turning to black.'

the ache in your core began during dinner, when ron had been eating with one hand, and the other one buried deep into you. he slowly rubbed circles upon your clit, pumping his fingers in and out simultaneously. it made you squirm in your seat, and he surely enjoyed watching you hold back the pretty sounds from your mouth as you tired not to combust in front of his family and your friends.

but he had teased you, all through out dinner, 30 minutes of pure torture, just to leave you withering with anger and not make you finish. every time you'd feel the coil about to snap, you'd clench your thighs and the walls of your cunt and he would draw out his hand.

and by the look on his face, you could understand he did it on purpose. he enjoyed the game. two could play the game, you decided, so you changed into your 'night clothes' to join harry, ron and hermione for their usual conversation after dinner.

it was a soft silk night slip dress in burgundy. it was lined with black lace. it ended just above your knees. knowing molly wouldn't allow any of the girls to sleep along with the boys, you'd decided to wear the dress, to be a tease and take a little sweet revenge.

it had resulted in an awkward boner and a distraction to him. he sat painfully, the ache in his groin prominent, the bulge of his pants a few minutes away from being visible. he was too immersed in trying to hide his bulge that eve hermione beat him at chess. with an excuse of being tired, he called off the night, going to sleep.

you had thoroughly enjoyed the redness of his face and how visibly hot he was. if it weren't for going to bed, you were sure he'd turn into a tomato with steam rising from his ears.

but the ache in your core persisted, and try as hard you might, you couldn't get off yourself. so that's why you were awake in the middle of the night, dreaming of your boyfriend's fingers knuckles deep into you, as he wrecked your body, putting you away from the pain.

the ache travelled from your core to your throat, as you slowly gulped. you were thirsty. and the last jug of water was emptied by ginny. so you decided to be crawl down the kitchen, drink some water and sneak back right in.

initially, that had been your plan.

you surely didn't expect yourself to be sitting on the kitchen counter with ron's cock buried deep into your cunt as he pounds into you. he wraps your shaking thighs around his waist, letting him feel better, letting him go deeper.

'k-keep quiet,' he whispers into your ear. the slow sensuous way he speaks contrasts with the rough pace he wrecks you. you nod incoherently, burying your mouth into the crook of his neck, your mouth clasping onto the skin, trying to silent the moans that beg to be echo from your lips.

'just cast the s-shit- spell ron-' you say, as he removes your face from his neck, holding you by the throat. he presses onto your arteries slightly, letting the oxygen flow into your head admonish. he grins, pressing his sweaty temple against yours,

'no honey, what's the fun in that?'

the big pleading eyes of yours does nothing but turn him on further, as he rubs circles on your clit, making your toes curl and back arch. he hits your sweet spot just right, and paired with the the ruthless circles on your clit, the coil bubbles intensely within you, wrecking you slowly.

'f-fuck, so g-good. just there, ron please don't stop,' you scream, shame thrown out the window. he breathes you in, letting out a small gasp as your walls convulses around him.

'i don't fucking plan to stop,' he promises, chuckling darkly. you bite your lip, feeling the nerves tug your veins, the sensations colliding to create a beautiful ecstasy that bubbles within you, shimmying through every crevice of your body.

you scream his name, chained with obscene words as you release, the euphoria of the orgasm gripping you slowly, ruining you slowly. he releases himself deep inside you, his white hot orgasm painting your insides.

he brandishes your face with kisses, helping you off the counter and helping you clean up. with a final kiss on your cheek, he wishes you a goodnight as he descends to sleep.

the morning breeze is cool. your back still hurts from the weird juxtaposition you'd been last night, getting your brain fucked out by the one who has his arm over your shoulders, pulling you closer to his body.

he's warm, the result of wearing the jumper his mum had knitted him last christmas. his fingers are wrapped around his cup of freshly brewed tea. he sips on it slowly, letting the taste wander on his tastebuds, enjoying the silent peace.

it doesn't long though, when his older brother, fred shows up. he's chewing on a piece of bread, a big smile- no smirk on his face.

'what are ya so jolly about, this morning?' you ask, humming slowly. he stands beside ron, pressing his shoulder upon his.

'well good morning to you too. it's not a crime to be jolly now is it?' he winks. you chuckle.

'good morning, fred,' ron grumbles, rolling his eyes. fred's smirk deepens as he replies,

'good morning ickle ronniekins. how did the both you sleep?'

he knew.

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#ron weasley smut #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley imagine #harry potter smut #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley #ron weasley x you #harry potter x you #harry potter fanfiction #ron weasley fanfiction #harry potter x y/n #ron weasley x y/n #ron weasley fanfic

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