#I want to know what people are watching/reading and what we have in common
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sevenines · 2 months ago
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i saw this tweet and found it interesting for two reasons. one is that some people base how good cartoon network would be to toh by how it treated su, and despite the fact that su’s treatment by the network was considered poor at the time, now its thought to be exceptionally good in comparison to modern shows.
two is how exactly su got impacted by a limited budget. a common criticism is how characters like connie, peridot, and lapis are left out of missions. but balancing a lot of characters is not only hard but also costly (extra animation, extra voices—it’s been revealed that the show is limited to a set number of characters per episode otherwise they’re over budget). animation mistakes are not uncommon since retakes cost extra. the entire reason the original show got cut short was due to loss of funding!
#i don’t know if pay rates differ per networks#but a.ivi and s.urrashu have said that they needed to work outside of su in order to make sufficient funds#it only makes me wonder what other ways su suffered from a lower budget#that we as the audience never got to see#in the vein of the too-little characters complaint#another part of that is that low-stakes episodes should’ve been abt the main cast instead of the townies#like last one out of beach city and too short to ride vs restaurant wars and kiki’s pizza delivery service#i definitely see that especially since that isn’t budget related#nor would it seem to be network related (even if cn had an ‘episodic episodes’ quota it could still be abt the gems#(another side note: /would/ cn even have a requirement that the show make episodes that can be watched standalone?#this is a question for the people who were around when su was airing#what episodes often got rerun?#was it the townie eps or the lore eps?#for example i heard that su once did a ‘peridot event’ where they just reran peridot episodes#which had eps that skip around in the show#did they even care about airing the story so that it made sense anyways?#id get it if the low stakes townie episodes were the ones getting rerun))#but i have such a boring view on that which is i think it’s simply because the creators like townie eps#like in interviews r.ebecca s.ugar has said she’s the type to be really invested in background characters#answers in interviews have been crafted in ways to hide what’s really going on though tbf#prime example of this is rebecca and ian saying the wedding being interrupted was meant to follow the common trope#when later in the art book they said that it was bc cn rejected the ep bc it ‘wasn’t interesting enough’#both could simultaneously be true! it’s a psychology thing though where people make up nice-sounding explanations behind what they create#in retrospect because they want it to be thought out in such a nice way they believe in it#the bigger problem is that not matter how many episodes there are of them#it can be hard for ppl to be invested in the townies the same way they are invested in the main cast#i’m sure that a million writers have made surefire advice on how to get an audience to care about characters#but off the top of my head i think it’s because 1. most don’t have strong motivations to get truly invested in#(exception is ronaldo but people find him too annoying to care about him)#okay i had more points and explanations but i hit the tag limit and idk if anyone is actually reading this so bye
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thedreadvampy · 1 year ago
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I mean sure, I can understand this perspective, but I'm not sure whether most people feel less shaken to be thrust into conversations about "self-unaliving" than conversations about "suicide"
and I for one as a survivor would much rather unexpectedly encounter somebody talking about "rape" than somebody talking about how funny it is to have sex with somebody when they don't want to, a normal thing that doesn't need to be named because it's So Normal.
which is to say. this is a post about words. the words are not the distressing thing about the discussion. the distressing thing is the distressing thing about the discussion. sugarcoating, dodging or renaming the distressing thing doesn't make it less distressing but it DOES often make it harder to have a frank discussion about it or address it in serious terms.
[pinch of salt: solid probability from their blog that this person is a Literal 14 Year Old and the perspective from 30 and 14 are very different. I do stand by all the points I'm making but I think this conversation lands a lot different for people at different life stages - there is something to be said for the general issue that the internet has flattened social groups to the degree that I as a 30 year old can make a post to my audience of largely adult millennials that immediately enters the same conversational space as people half my age and still in school. that seems. ungreat. as the primary way we engage in conversation. but I don't have solutions to offer.]
you gotta be able to say "die"
you gotta be able to say "suicide"
you gotta be able to talk about "sex"
they're uncomfortable topics, YEAH for SURE
because LIFE is uncomfortable. Death and suicide and sex and pain are straight up going to happen. not having words for the way it discomforts you doesn't make it more comfortable, it just makes you less able to reach out about it.
even more vital, you gotta be able to say words like "rape", "abuse", "queer" or "racist". cause we fought fucking hard to name those experiences. to identify "rape" as distinct from "sex" and "racism" as distinct from "acceptable behaviour" and "queer" as distinct from "invert"
like the function of communication is not to minimise immediate discomfort. we gotta be able to talk about stuff that's hard or sucks or causes difficult conversations.
#red said#i also wholeheartedly disagree with the rest of your post#all entertainment is political. all of it. because politics is the models we use to describe how we interact as a community#and art is inherently communal. so it's inherently political.#that doesn't mean all entertainment has to be a Pure Political Statement. some stuff is just dumb because dumb shit is fun.#but like it's not. detached from the world. and a lack of political intent doesn't mean it's utterly unchallenging.#ok for example. have you ever. enjoyed watching a cheesy 80s zombie movie and it is gory and stupid and great#but then there's a scene where maybe there's a really fucked-up implication about what we as an audience are meant to think#or a rape scene played for light laughs. or whatever your line is.#and they meant it to be fun. you watched it for fun. but you're not having fucking fun any more. there's a bad taste in your mouth.#contrast. sometimes i am reading a nonfiction article for work or something. it is miserable and grim it is about homelessness and dv#but the writer has put it together so well and made their point so clearly you're like YES! YES! THAT'S IT!!!!#and even beyond that like. i am a disabled multiple rape and abuse survivor. i have been through a non zero amount of The Shit.#and a lot of the stuff i find most entertaining and relaxing is stuff that acknowledges that as a Thing Which Happens#like I'm a nerd man. i like video essays about misogyny and fascism and reactionary homophobia.#i like films that make me cry bc they touch an emotional raw spot. i like tiktoks where people joke about their experiences of abuse#i like SFF stories about trauma and survival and sad robots#and yeah you know sometimes i want to watch a comedy panel show or a tiktok of bottles rolling down stairs#but effective entertainment is a conversation! comedy and chill vibes rest on like. deciding what to riff on#and who your anticipated audience is. and nah actually that's not apolitical and also#identifying common human experiences like death or trauma or marginalisation as inherently Political and therefore Unfun#misses the point that like. the question isn't what you acknowledge but how you acknowledge it.#as a rape survivor. for example. i don't necessarily want to open tiktok to a lecture on rape culture.#but i might well stick about for a standup routine about being a survivor of rape#and i will absolutely bounce from a vid where nobody mentions rape bc they think what they're talking about is fine when it's. rapey af.#anyway. this is a sidebar cause even if i agreed about entertainment v politics my main point would still stand#but i very much don't agree and i think you need to maybe look at how you approach entertainment media as neutral#but also i feel very strongly about this and not to harp on the like aS A sUrViVoR thing but#AS A SURVIVOR my fucking LIFE includes ''dark topics'' like suicide and rape. and i don't appreciate how often that's treated as#an unfair imposition to speak about or acknowledge. 'dark shit' is inescapably a major part of my life/self AND I'm funny + entertaining
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inkskinned · 9 months ago
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most writing advice is good as long as you know why it is good, at which point it is also bad. the hardest thing (and most precious thing) about being an artist is that you gotta learn how to take critique. i don't mean "just shut up and accept that people hate your work," i mean you need to learn what the critique is saying and then figure out if it actually helps.
i usually tell people reading my work: "i'm collecting data, so everything is useful." i ask them where they put the book down, even though it's too long for most people to read in 1 sitting. i ask them what they thought of certain characters. i let them tell me it was really good but i like it more when they look a little stunned and say i forgot i was reading your book, which means they forgot i exist, which is very good news.
sometimes people i didn't ask will read my work and tell me i don't like it. and that is okay, you don't have to like it. but i look at the thing that they don't like and try to figure out if i care. i don't like that you don't capitalize. this one is common, and i have already thought about it. i do not care, it's because of chronic pain and frankly i like the little shape of small letters. you use teeth and ribs in all your work. actually that is very true. i don't know what's up with that. next time i will work to figure out a different word, thank you. you're whiny, go outside. someone said that to me recently and it made me laugh. i am on the whine-about-it website as an internet poet. you are in my native habitat, watching me perform a natural enrichment behavior. but i like the dip of whiny, how the word itself does "whine" (up/down, the sound out your nose on the y), but i don't know if i want to feel whiny. maybe next time i will work on it being melancholy, like what you would call a male writer's poetry.
repeated "good" advice clangs in a bell and doesn't hold a real shape, dilutes in the water. like sometimes you will hear "don't use said." you turn that around in your head and it bounces off the edges of your brain like it is a dvd screensaver. it isn't bad advice, but it feels wrong somehow, like saying easy choices are illegal! sometimes i will only use "said." sometimes i will just kick dialogue tags out to the trash. sometimes i make little love poems where the fact that i do not say "said" is very bad, and makes you feel bad in your body, because someone didn't say something. i am a contrary little shitbird, i guess.
but it is also good advice, actually. it is trying to say that "said" sometimes is clutter. it makes new writers think about the very-small words and very-small choices, because actually your work matters and wordchoice matters. "i know," you said. "i know," you sighed. "i know." we both know but neither of us use a dialogue tag, because we are in a contemporary lit piece.
it is too-small to say don't use said. but it is a big command, so it gets your attention. what are you relying on? what easy choices do you make? when you edit, do you choose the same thing? can you make a different choice? sometimes we need the blankness of said, how it slides into the background. sometimes we don't.
i usually say best advice is to read, but i also mean read books you don't like, because that will make you angry enough to write your own book. i also mean read good books, which will break your heart and remind you that you are a very small person and your voice is a seashell. i also mean you need to eat books because reading a book is a writer's version of studying.
my creative writing teacher in the 7th grade had a big red list of no! words and on it was SUNSET. RAZORS. LOVE. GALAXY. DEATH. BLOOD. PAIN. I liked that razor and love were tucked next to each other like birds, and found it funny that he believed we were too young to know the weight of razor in the context of pain. i hated him and his Grateful Dead belt, where the colored teddy bears held up his appraisal of us. i hated his no list. it is very good/bad advice. i wasn't old enough yet to know that when you are writing about death you are also writing about sunsets and when you write about love you are tucking yourself into a napkin that never stops folding.
back then my poetry was all bloody, dripped with agony when you picked it up. i didn't know there is nothing beautiful about a razor, nothing exciting about pain. i just understood sharpness, which he took to mean i understood nothing. i wrote the razor down and it wasn't easy, but it was necessary. that's what i'm saying - sometimes it's good advice, because it's not always necessary. and sometimes it is very bad advice, because writing about it is lifesaving.
hang on my dog was just having a nightmare. i heard that it is a rule not to write about dogs - in my creative writing mfa, my teacher rolled her eyes and said everyone writes a dead dog. the literature streets are littered in canine bodies. i watched the rise and fall of his ribs (there is that word again) and had to reach out and stop the bad dream. when he woke up he didn't recognize me, and he was afraid.
it is good/bad advice to say that poems and writing have to mean something. it is bad/good advice to say they're big feelings in small packages. it is better advice to say that when my dog saw where he was, he relaxed immediately, rubbed his face against me. someone on instagram would make fun of that moment by writing their "internet poetry" as a sentence that tumbles across a white page: outside it is sunset and my dog is still in a gutter, bleeding a galaxy out of his left paw. or maybe it would be: i woke the dog up/the dog forgot i loved him/and i saw the shape of a senseless/and impossible pain.
the dog is alive in this one, and he is happy. when i tell you i love you, i know what i said. write what you need to write, be gentle to yourself about it. the advice is only as good as far as it helps. the rest is just fencing. take stock of the boundaries, and then break them. there's always somewhere else you could be growing.
i love you, keep going.
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coldfanbou · 4 months ago
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Getting Bold
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Nana is going to help you gain some confidence...in her own way. Things start off slow and quickly boil over into some roughness. @i-am-lifeform24
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Nana x Mreader
You clasped your hands together, turning your head and seeing the sneering faces of your bullies; they were laughing just around the corner. They knew about your crush on Nana and forced you to ask her out. You turn back to Nana; she tilts her head, wondering why you stopped her. “Um, Nana. I…” You look down on the floor, nervous. Your hands become sweaty as you briefly raise your gaze to meet her eyes. “I like you. Do you want to go out on a date?” You blurt out, shifting your eyes downward again. All eyes in the hallway were on you, people whispering to each other about you daring to ask out Nana.
Nana smiles at you, seeing your shyness. “Sure, can we go out tomorrow?” She asks, moving her hands behind her back as her smile grows. You look up at Nana, stunned that she accepted your date. You ask her to repeat herself, “I said, yeah. Does tomorrow work?” 
“Yeah, that sounds good.” 
Nana reaches forward, grabbing your hand. “I’ll plan things out. Just give me your number.” You scramble, looking for something to write your number on. You grab the first thing you can get, and it’s a marker. Then, you continue looking for something to write on. Nana waits patiently, checking her watch. “You can write it on my arm; I’ll write it down later. I have a class soon.” You nod and scramble to write down your number on her arm. Nana giggles as she feels the fibers of the marker rub against her arm. “That tickles.” 
After writing your number, Nana reads it aloud and confirms it before waving goodbye. As Nana leaves, you exhale, feeling the weight lift from your shoulders. You glance at your bullies before turning and walking away. A sense of relief washes over you as you hurry to your next class, happy it’s over for now. Nana looks at her arm, pulling out her phone as she rushes off to class and puts it in her contacts. After class, she washed off the number, ensuring her arm was clean.
The following day, you and Nana meet at a cozy cafe; she texted you all the details. She sits in front of you, sipping on her iced coffee. “I never expected you to ask me out. What came over you?” She asks, smiling softly.
“I-my bullies wanted to embarrass me by asking you out.” You say, wanting to be honest with her. Nana nods her head and taps your hand. Your eyes move to meet hers.
“That’s okay. Don’t think about that too much. I’m glad you did. I think you’re cute.” Nana says boldly.
Your heart skips a beat, and you can’t help but ask, “Really?” 
“Yeah, but you’re always so shy and nervous.” Nana teases, leaning over the table to smack your shoulder. “You need to be more confident.”
“There’s not much to be confident about.” 
“There is,” Nana replies as the two of you continue chatting, finding things in common. Your date was meant to last an hour at most, but by the time you left the cafe, it was the evening. As you walk out with Nana, she spins on her heel, turning to you. “I want to help you with your confidence.” She says, smiling. “That’s what a girlfriend does.”
“Girlfriend?”
Nana gives you a defeated sigh, smiling as she does. “Yeah, I want to go on more dates with you. Today was a lot of fun. Maybe next time we can do something more physical.” Nana raises her arms, stretching her body. “Talking with you was nice, but those chairs weren’t comfortable.” You nod and smile at Nana. She takes a step closer, kissing your cheek. “I’ll see you at school.” 
“Yeah, I’ll see you there.” Nana waves to you as she heads home. You rub your cheek, still feeling her lips on it. You feel happy knowing that the two of you would have more dates. You take a deep breath and begin making your way home.
As Nana walks away, she thinks of ways to raise your confidence. She figures that with enough dates, you will become more confident. If that doesn’t happen, Nana will find another way. 
You and Nana go on more dates, becoming more comfortable with each other, but you are still shy and nervous. It was a few months now of seeing little improvement; Nana began thinking of things that would raise your confidence. While she loved you, she wanted to see you take charge. During school, Nana hangs out with you, eats lunch with you, and chats until your classes are separate, trying to bring you out of your shell. Walking by the women's bathroom, she overhears some chatter from inside the room. “I’m telling you, he’s so good. Fucking him is like nothing else.” As Nana continues walking, she considers sex as an option. Her thoughts build off this, thinking that losing your virginity would give you a much-needed confidence boost. It makes Nana nervous; she’s only kissed your cheek after all your dates. It would be a big jump for the two of you. Nana did have more experience, but she didn’t know how you would feel. Nana continued planning things out, deciding to do something she believed would boost your confidence.
She messaged you, inviting you to her home. The two of you walked together, staying silent for the most part. Nana was the first to speak, “Hey, I, um, want to move to the next level.” She says, reaching for your hand. She takes it, gripping it tightly, “We’ve gone on a few dates, and I’ve really enjoyed my time with you.”
“So you want to-”
“Have sex,” Nana finishes your sentence. You feel her grip tighten.
“Nana, I’m-” 
“I know,” She says, stopping in her tracks. “I know, and you know I’ve done it before. I want you to be more confident… for us.” You nod your head, uncertain how much sex would help you. 
You continue on your way to Nana’s home. She lets you in and has you wait in the living room while she goes to her bedroom. Nana takes a deep breath and strips off her clothing, heading into the connecting bathroom. There, she looks at herself in the mirror. She turns around, looking at her naked form, before heading back into the bedroom. She searches through her drawers, finding the marker she was looking for. She opens the door and pokes her head out. “You can come in now.” She shouts, shutting the door and lying down on the bed. 
You open the door, peering inside. Your eyes meet Nana, slowly moving down to take in her body. Nana’s breathing quickens as you stare at her body; she feels embarrassed and moves her hands to cover herself. “Don’t just stare. Come in.” You close the door and walk closer to Nana. Your cock begins to harden, struggling against its confines. Nana glances at your bulge but quickly moves her eyes back to yours. “I’m offering you everything tonight.” She says softly before handing you a marker. You give Nana a quizzical look, wondering what it was for. “I want you to write on my body. I’m your girlfriend; I’m all yours.” She says, a nervous smile on her face. She holds her breath, waiting for a response. “Please say something; I’m dying of embarrassment here.” She says with a chuckle. 
“You’re beautiful,” Those were the only words that stumbled from your mouth as you continued to scan her body. 
“I should’ve expected that,” Nana says quietly. She reaches forward, uncapping the marker and grabbing your hand, leading it to her stomach. “I’m all yours,” She repeats. “Write it down.” You look into Nana’s eyes, following her orders and writing your name on her. “For your sole use.” You write it all down, pulling away to see it written on her formerly pristine body. You become more aroused at the thought of Nana being yours. She felt the same way, her cunt tingling as she sees your name written on her. She didn’t expect this to turn her on, but she continues. Nana takes the marker from you, drawing an arrow toward her slit. Nana caps the marker, placing it beside her. She leans forward and pulls down your pants. The only thing blocking her from your cock was your underwear, and it similarly went away. “You’re pretty big,” Nana said with a gulp. She reached for it, grasping it gently and running her hand along your shaft. You groan from the unusual pleasure; it was different than when you did it yourself. 
Nana kisses your neck as you crawl over her, “Kiss me.” You follow along, kissing her to the best of your ability. She giggles, “Not bad for your first time.” You moan into the kiss as Nana’s hand continues to move along your cock; her grip tightens as her hand becomes covered in your precum. “Don’t cum so soon,” She whispers, her palm rubbing against the tip.
You struggle to contain yourself, Nana’s hand begins moving faster. Her skilled hand was bringing you to an early climax. Your hands move toward Nana’s lower half, gripping her thigh as she puts her other arm around you. “If you’re going to cum, at least do it inside me,” Nana says as she slows down. She aligns you with her entrance, pushing the tip against her folds. “Push in.” You grunt and go inside her, moving half your length inside. “Ah, slowly, remember you’re pretty big.” You take your time moving the rest in. 
Nana’s walls are slippery but hold onto you tightly. You feel yourself about to cum, your cock throbbing inside her. Nana wraps her legs around your waist, her feet pushing you in deeper. You stare at her face. Nana shut her eyes, her lips forming an O as she moaned. Once you were buried inside her, you came, your cum filling her. You listen to her gasp. Nana feels the waves of cum pouring into her, and she bites her lip, enjoying the warmth of it. “That feels so good, baby.” She says, kissing you. She cups your cheek, “We’re a long way from done, okay?” You nod your head. “When you can start thrusting your hips. For now, just touch my body.” 
Your hands wander to Nana’s modest breasts; they’re the perfect size. You squeeze them gently, feeling her nipple harden against your palm. “That’s it,” Nana moans. “Claim every part of me.” Nana’s moans drive you to do more; you begin moving your hips. Dragging your cock out of her before ramming it back in. “Oh shit,” Nana groans as she feels your cock impale her. You begin thrusting into her, her wall becoming tighter as you move your hands to her waist and strengthen your grip. 
“Y-you’re so tight,” you grunt, continuing to gain speed. Nana’s moans slowly grow louder, and she clings to you. She bites her lip, feeling your cock move through her. 
“Harder,” She whines, her legs growing tighter around you. You felt yourself nearing another orgasm, and Nana was reaching her first. She pressed her lips against yours, reveling in the pleasure she felt as you came inside her again. Your seed claiming her womb as she cums on your cock
Nana’s legs flexed as she came, slowly relaxing as she milked your cock. They uncrossed and fell to your sides. You pull out slowly, your cum flowing out of her cunt. Your eyes slowly move up Nana’s body, reaching her tired face. 
“I want to go again,” you tell her. You were getting soft, though. Nana notices and turns her body over, reaching into her nightstand, where she pulls out a pill. 
“I thought we might need this.” She says, popping the pill into her mouth before passing it to you via a kiss. You swallow the pill with zero problems, and in a few minutes, you're at full mast. Nana turns herself around, raising her ass to you and swaying it. You move your hands along her back, ready to take her again. Noticing the marker, you grab it and write on her body, making notes on her back and ass. Nana notices you begin taking charge, staying silent as she lets you do what you want. Having her body covered in your notes turns her on, and seeing that her plan is working makes her happy. 
You toss the marker to the side and hold onto Nana’s waist with one hand as you move the other between her folds. She helps you align your cock with her cunt, nudging you in the right direction without you noticing. You press against her entrance before ramming your length back inside. You give Nana little chance to get used to your size, beginning your thrusts immediately. As your bodies collide, you watch her body recoil against yours, her flesh jiggling as it presses against you. You raise your hand, slapping Nana’s ass and listening to her her yelp. 
Nana buries her head in her bed sheets, biting her lip as you fuck her. She was being pushed to the limit, enjoying how you became more aggressive and confident in your actions. She arches her back, letting you get in deeper.  You reach forward, grab Nana’s arms, and continue to thrust, her moans growing louder as she nears her climax. With her walls tightening around you, you speed up your thrusts. “I’m cumming, Nana,” You grunt, your cock throbbing inside her. Nana begs you to cum inside her, shouting for you to fill her pussy. You bury yourself inside her, flooding her cunt with your semen. 
Nana’s body twitches as she cums, her walls tightening and loosening around you as she milks your cock. Her eyes are half-lidded as her climax rocks her world. The two of you continue having sex into the night, Nana’s body becoming a canvas for you as you write more crude things on her body. In the end, Nana can barely walk herself over to the bathroom. She turns on the light and shuts the door as you sleep in her bed. Looking in the mirror, she sees everything you’ve written, every part of her you claimed as yours. She smiles to herself and rubs her sore folds, groaning with satisfaction. She turns on the water to her bath, scrubbing herself clean so she wouldn’t have to do it in a rush tomorrow morning. 
There was a clear difference in you; she could tell as much. Ou held her hand in the hallways as you walked her to her classes. You were generally more relaxed, kissing Nana on the cheek and a little spank before leaving her side at the door.  Nana was surprised at your boldness but smiled; she loved the transformation. While there were still times that you were shy and nervous, they came less often. Your confidence had skyrocketed after the night with Nana; hearing her cries of pleasure and her calling your name gave you a significant boost. She was happy to see the change and saw that others were noticing it.
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lqveharrington · 1 month ago
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Buried in a Book | R.L.
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summary: While you were part of the biggest friend group in Hogwarts, you’re often in your own world to even register the plans they make.
pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader
includes: remus being the best boyfriend in the entire world, reader feeling a little insecure, reader’s last name is rawlings (no, i didn’t realize how close it was to rowling until later 😞)
a/n: someone spam message me to finish my coryo series please 😭🙏
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One of the best things about being in Gryffindor were the people you made friends with. From rule-breakers — such as James and Sirius — to heavy rule followers — Lily Evans herself — it was so diverse. You could throw pranks with the marauders while being a prefect. By the end of sixth year, the group was tight knit and it seemed as if nothing could ever ruin it.
But there was one thing they would typically forget about with their rambunctious nature. They always forgot about you in their plans. It wasn’t as if they did it intentionally. No, it was because you were always off in your own world, and when they made plans you didn’t hear them. Usually one of the girls would tell you, or your loving boyfriend, but you felt awful every time.
Today was no exception.
Sirius and Marlene made plans to Hogsmeade during breakfast for the weekend. And of course the rest of the group seconded that call and hurriedly ate their food to prepare for the trip. Being oblivious to everything that was happening, you continued to read your novel until Remus cleared his throat as a small warning.
Hearing this, you put a finger to your last sentence and looked up at him, eyebrows knitting up in confusion at the lack of noise coming from around you. “Where did they all go?”
“They made plans for Hogsmeade about…” He looked down at his watch, tapping it softly. “… Five minutes ago.”
He stacked the plates surrounding their area, your eyes watching his movements in silence. You thought you were listening to them this morning, but the last thing you heard before you got fully immersed was the next prank Sirius wanted to pull on Severus Snape.
Frowning, you carefully put your bookmark into your book and leaned your head on Remus’ shoulder, voice coming out quiet. “I didn’t realize.”
Remus wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your temple for assurance. “It’s okay, dovey. You were so invested in your book that I didn’t want to bother you.” He gently helped you up from the bench and pulled your closer to him, his slender fingers tracing patterns on your shoulder. “Besides, I get to have quality time with my best girl.”
A soft smile graced your lips at his comment, but a small part of your mind was eating at you. What if they were talking about something important and Remus wasn’t there to tell you about it? You guessed the girls would, but you would bet they would forget to tell you before you realized they left you.
“Is there anyway specific they asked us to meet then?” You murmured as you entered the Gryffindor common room where only a young first year was sitting by the fire and reading a muggle book.
“I think we both know the answer to that.” He played with the ends on your hair as he pulled around to face you properly. He twisted the ends and watched them unfurl until meeting your eyes.
You looked up and shook your head in amusement as you both said “The Three Broomsticks” at the same time. You scrunched your nose and smiled again when he kissed your forehead as a short parting gesture.
By the time you left the common rooms and made it to The Three Broomsticks, they were just leaving, causing another wave of guilt pass through you.
“There you two are! We were wondering when the both of you would make it.” Sirius pushed in between the both of you to wrap his arms around yours and Remus’ shoulders. “You guys missed out on Evans chugging down her butterbeer because Dorcas dared her.”
You blinked and looked over to Lily in surprise, but the wave of guild began to crash again. “Oh, that must’ve been interesting.”
“Very.” He nudged your side softly before noticing how weary you looked. “You okay there, Rawlings?” His voice got quiet and leaned closer to you. “You and Moony didn’t… You know?”
“Godric, what is wrong with you?” You push him away and dust the invisible dirt off your side. “No, I didn’t realize you guys left us so we went back to the common room before coming here.” You roll your eyes and trudge into Honeydukes with a frown on your face.
“Just a question!” Sirius called after you and look toward Remus instead. He gave him an unimpressed look and peeled Sirius’ arm off of him, raising a brow at the man. “She knows I was joking, right?”
“She does, but she’s not in the mood.” Remus rolled his eyes at Sirius as well before following your steps into the candy-filled store. “And for your information, the time span between leaving us and coming here wouldn’t give us enough time to make it satisfactory.”
Sirius creased his brows in confusion before gaping at his best friend. He looked back at James in shock before watching Remus enter the store with a smirk on his face. “Never in my entire life have I heard Remus John Lupin talk about his game like that.”
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You watched young wizards and witches mess with the candy from the corner of Honeydukes, fiddling with your own sweater. Well, technically it was Remus’ but he gave it to you sometime last year. But as you played with the loose thread, the same guilt came back to gnaw on your feelings.
It was fine when it was only you missing out on the unplanned fun, but when Remus misses out on fun that he could’ve seen made you upset beyond belief. You didn’t think your own behavior could affect Remus this badly. And it’s not like Sirius helped when he asked about you and Remus.
“Dove?” Remus rounded the corner and found you biting the end of your thumbnail, making him sigh. He gently pulled your hand away and met your eyes. “What’s wrong, dovey?”
“Nothing.” You mumbled, wiping your hand on your sweater. You grimaced at the feeling but looked at Remus with solemn eyes. “Where’s the rest of them?”
He laced his hand with yours, squeezing it softly. “They went to Tomes and Scrolls. I think they’re buying gifts? I’m not to sure.”
You frowned, “When did they say that?”
“They didn’t. They were just heading in that direction when I left them.” He brought your hand up and kissed your knuckles. He watched your glazed eyes blink to get rid of the wet. “Talk to me, my love.”
You raised both brows at the name and felt your face warm. It was rare for him to call you his love, so everytime it made you feel like a child in a candy store, which was technically half true given the setting.
“Don’t you think it’s kind of annoying I zone in and out of our conversations with that whole group?” You finally spoke after a good second, fiddling with his fingers in anticipation for his answer. “We never get to do anything fun or on time because of me, and I’m not too sure why you still bother with me because of it—“
“Dovey,” Remus gave you a small smile, tilting his head down fully to speak only loud enough for you. “Do you really think I care what we miss with them? As long as I have you with me, I couldn’t care less.”
You gently squeeze his hand, “Don’t you want to hate me just a little bit?”
“Never.” He kissed your head. “Why would I ever hate you for your quirk? I think it’s cute that you get to immersed in your own world when reading. And you know why I love it so much?”
“Why?” You smile and tilt your head up to perfectly meet his own tilted head.
“Because then I get to hear all about what happens from your beautiful voice.” Remus grinned his wolfish grin, adjusting the sweater you have on. “So don’t worry too much about me missing out on those pricks because they don’t talk about anything worthwhile.”
You roll your eyes and let out a noise of surprise when he softly connects his waiting lips to yours. Instantly, you melt and return the kiss with equal passion before breaking apart, smiling giddily at him.
“What was that for?” You lay your cheek on his shoulder as shyness took over your body, especially with so many people around you both.
“Just love you.” He thumbed your waist now, nudging his chin onto your head softly. “And I wouldn’t want you any other way.”
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©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms
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dilf-docs · 16 days ago
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The Rock N' Roll Got Harder and Softer
eddie brock x younger fem!reader
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summary: common sense isn't really your strongest suit. so here you are, riding a stranger's bike on halloween night. hey, he saved you! with one hell of a costume, no doubt. because it has to be one, right?
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (do we see the blog name? get used to it), smut, flirty reader! she's got no shame just game ++ also overshares (sorry if this trait is mischaracterizing you, everything will be okay❤️) praise kink, oral f. receiving (have u seen that tongue? ik its abt eddie but venom's tongue plays a part there... he defo going in my hear me out cake), does this count as sub!eddie idk?? the man is touch starved, p. in v. (use protection okay!! don't be like these dumb horny bitches), reader gets harrassed but the lethal protector saves the day!!
word count: 5,008 words
side note: i was re watching venom 1 and watching venom 2 since my friends want to see the third, so i got the tom hardy and his plump princess lips have to be mine virus!! like i wish i was kidding but after watching the movies and the top 100 dilf poll on twitter i felt in the need to use my hands (iykyk) ++ after finding out i have a pattern for lonely fucked up dilfs (first with old man logan now eddie). also, irdgaf halloween just passed; let's pretend ur calendar got stuck on the 31st as u read this. also, this can happen after venom (2018) but the time isn't really important!
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This is stupid.
It's a cold october night, the wind blowing in your face, and you're navigating this part of the neighborhood you don't know in nothing but a skimpy red bathing suit, like it's a hot summer day.
Dressing up as Pamela Anderson in Baywatch sounded much better a couple months ago; not now, when all the people passing by ogle your body up and down, whether it be with lust or judgment.
Your night has gone to shit: you feel cold, hungry, tipsy and vulnerable. One thing is wanting to be objectified by the possible candidates you would take home from the party, and other is being eyed by strangers who look at your body like hungry wolves.
You finally spot a mini-market amid the packed street, blue hues of light providing some sense of relief.
After getting something to drink and eat, you'll probably feel better and have the energy to walk home; there's no way you and your very small costume are getting inside an uber at ten o'clock tonight.
The bell chimes in as you enter the store, but the lady behind the counter doesn't even glance your way, focused on the TV behind her.
"Hi" she waves her hand absentmindedly, "Do you have any water?"
She mutters something that sounds like an annoyed of course we do, and points to the freezer in the back, still without looking.
"Alright, thanks" you say, walking to the freezer section and grabbing a bottle you chug until it's almost empty. You're still hungry, but at least your throat doesn't feel like you've eaten sand anymore.
With the bottle in your hand, you take the time to scour around the store, looking for something to eat. You finally decide on some chocolates; heck, it's halloween. Going home and stuffing your face with a bunch of candy for what's left of the night does sound nice.
You finally spot the chocolates on a display, moving towards it. As you're about to grab a bunch and go, another hand interrupts you.
"Oh!" you exclaim out loud, stepping back.
Maybe you're haven't gone trick or treating in years, but you will treat yourself tonight. And not with the chocolates. There's a God out there, definitely, who has blessed you not only with great curves but also with the chance of showing them off in the precise moment.
"Sorry!" your voice chirps a bit too excited for your liking. Control yourself. You clear your throat, suspecting the burn in your cheeks gives you away.
You're supposed to be confident! Flirty and charming! You're young and pretty! But how can you not be nervous when the stranger looks like that?
The eye candy who sports tattoos and a bad boy aroma that makes you drool; the jacket and beat up look just adds the perfect layer to the whole vibe. You're known to have a preference for men who look like he does. Something about the dangerous makes your heart race and skin prickle. Then your eyes travel to the motorcycle helmet in his right hand. Yummy.
The heat in your cheeks returns.
You don't even know his name, yet you've oggled him up and down without shame. It's probably all the pent up energy you had saved for the party. You figure it has to be invested somewhere else. Maybe with him.
Him, who's way older than the other guys you've been with. But that just just makes it even better.
"It's okay" he speaks up, and his voice is not only what you imagined it to be. The rich grave undertone is making your panties wet just with the sound. "You go first"
He points to the stand full of said treats. You motion forward, not without putting some extra sway and effort in your walk. By the reflection of the mirror in the corner, you know you've at least got his attention.
"Done" you say, leaving some space for him to pass. "Would the gentleman give me the honor of knowing his name?"
"I'm Eddie" he extends his hand, "Eddie Brock".
You shouldn't be this excited to shake a hand but when his large palm engulfs yours, you find it hard to let go.
With the closeness, you take another look at his face, getting lost in his warm eyes and the eyebags that adorn them. It's unfair how good they suit him; unlike you after a wild night out.
"Nice to meet you. Very nice, indeed" you purr.
You also make sure to bat your eyelashes in a way your friends tease you but has proven to be effective every time.
It seems to have done its magic, because he also takes a look at you.
But it's different.
You can sense something else is happening when his eyebrows furrow first, then face contorting into a disgusted expression as Venom says: I want to eat her, Eddie. I bet she tastes as sweet as she sounds! It's too tempting!
"Shut up" he mumbles (but loud enough for you to hear), then mutters something like We're just supossed to eat the bad guys! but you're confused and hurt, so you don't really pay attention; your ego really taking a blow tonight.
"I beg your pardon?"
Eddie curses under his breath, "that wasn't for you".
"Right" you chuckle dryly, looking around at the empty store. "Don't see who else that could be for"
"I'm sorry, it's hard to explain" he rushes the apology, looking rather embarrassed. "Now, if you excuse me".
And walks past you like it's nothing. Maybe that weird spark you felt was just on you; the interest isn't mutual.
"Hi Mrs. Chen" you hear him salute the lady behind the counter. Sighing, you grab your chocolates and head to cash out, adding another deception to your already bad night.
The bell chimes again when you make your way to the line, behind Eddie, but this time, you don't bother to look.
"Well, hello" the voice behind you says. It takes you a few seconds to realize they're talking to you.
"Hi" you mutter a bit annoyed, looking at the front. The silence is dense, the beep of each of Eddie's (million) of chocolates being the only silence filling the store.
"Won't even spare a glance, doll?" they continue, despite your clear apathy. "C'mon, lemme see if that face is as pretty as your ass"
Blood rushes to your face, and you're so embarrassed your body stiffs, fully aware the other two people in the store have noticed. You hug your body, because there isn't really anything you can cover yourself with right now, not daring to look back.
Well, fuck me.
If you thought leaving the party was going to solve your problems, it's only proven to cause more.
Eddie finishes, leading to your turn. You give a strained smile to Mrs. Chen, and she just gives you a look of pity.
"Hey, I'm talking to you!" they start to get irritated, and you just pray they don't follow you outside once you're done. "Are you deaf, Pamela?" he mocks, making your blood boil and skin sweat.
Mrs. Chen is done, but the stranger isn't taking your silence as an answer. Before you can leave, they grab your hand.
"Already leaving? You haven't even given me your name yet"
It's such a silly thought to have right now, but you realize you hadn't given Eddie your name either.
"I don't know if you've noticed, but she's clearly not interested, buddy" a voice speaks out, and you know it. It's probably the panic but you hadn't realize Eddie's still here. You hold his gaze for a few seconds, and even thought you hate having to depend on a man to be left alone, you need his help; so you plead, boring into his warm chocolate eyes.
"In case you haven't noticed, this is a two people conversation" the stranger snarls.
"Looks more like a one sided conversation to me" he bites back, making the stranger mad. That's the last thing you need. You just want to go home and curl under your warm and soft blankets; you've even lost your appetite.
"It's none of your business. Are you not understanding?"
"Oh, but that's the problem. You're the one that isn't understanding" what appears to be black surrounds his before bare neck, and you feel like you haven't completely sobered up, your mind playing games with you. The black engulfs his whole body, making him taller and more intimidating.
"It is" he threats on a distorted voice. Now, where Eddie's face used to be, another one replaces him: with white instead of two eyes and a big mouth with teeth and a really long tongue.
You hadn't even drink that much. No way this is real.
The stranger gulps, petrified. Oh, so they see it too; it's not you.
"Sorry, idiot. The lifeguard shift is over" and before the stranger replies, his head dissapear inside the mouth, chopping it off.
"Fuck!" you curse out loud, the body falling limp at your side.
A shiver runs through your back. This is a nightmare.
"Well, now that makes us two who know your secret now" Mrs. Chen adds in a rather monotone voice, and you wonder if people have gone insane―you included.
You can't even speak. Less when the black starts dissappearing, and it's Eddie's face and body again.
"Hey, sorry about that" you don't know who Eddie is talking to when saying that. "You okay?"
Okay? Sure, that you are. Fine? Not really.
"It's alright if you're scared" he reaches out to you but you flinch. He looks used to it, apparently, "I know this is weird".
You chuckle, bemused. "Weird? Not even in my wildest acid trip, I could've imagine that"
"It's easy to explain, but hard to understand" he begins, but trails off. "Would you, uh, let me?"
Well, he had saved you. If he wanted to eat you and have you go the same fate your harasser did, he would've done it by now.
Besides, common sense isn't really your strongest suit. Never was. You've had so many problems stem from it, including tonight's events, that you could probably write a column or do a podcast of it.
"Sure" you agree, "as long as you don't eat me".
You regret the (attempt at a) joke as soon as it leaves your mouth, but that is gone when you hear him laugh. A little pride fills your chest, especially at the velvet-like sound.
"I won't" he raises his palms in a playful manner, "but he wants to".
Not anymore, you don't eat the people you save!
"He?" you quirk an eyebrow, "you better rush that explanation, yeah?"
"Sure" he chuckles, "uh?"
"Y/n" you answer, and the honeyed tone is back. God, you need to get a grip. This guy could snap you in, "but just for tonight, Casey Jean Parker. So you better put some good use to it before she leaves, cowboy"
"Will take it into account, blonde" he laughs at your hair.
You hate it because it reminds you of Anne, pussy.
"Hey, it's a good wig!" you playfully slap his shoulder. "You wish you had hair like this".
You flip it, to which he just laughs. Then he bids goodbye to Mrs. Chen and you both head outside, where the wind hits your body cruelly.
A curse leaves your mouth, "Shit"
Eddie notices. Before you can react, he's putting his jacket over your shoulders.
"You got the seasons messed up, baby" he jokes, the pet name rolling off his tongue a bit too easily, "don't even think about taking it off; don't want you to catch a cold".
There's a beat of silence before he asks:
"So, about the costume..."
"I know" you properly put his jacket on. It smells like him: pine, gasoline, sweat and a bit of chocolate. "It sounded better when I came up with it in August"
"No!" he corrects hastily, then coughs "I like it".
Light pink creeps up his cheeks.
"Good to know I still got the charm" you joke, winking.
"Was this" he points with his ringed fingers up and down, "for a contest?"
"No, a party. Jesus, how old do you think I am?" you chastise in a mocking tone. "It's what pretty college girls do, Eddie: party".
Venom likes parties! I like her, Eddie!
"And if that's what you do, pretty girl" two can play the game it seems, "what exactly are you doing out of the water, Ms. Parker?"
You scoff, shocked. "You're supposed to give me your answer first".
Fortunately for Brock, you have a bad habit to overshare; it gets worse, especially with men. God knows you don't know such thing as boundaries.
You lay against the concrete wall, exhaling. Your worries condense in front of you as Eddie waits attentively, examining the way your face falls.
"I was supposed to go to a party today, hence the costume" you motion to your body, "but things went wrong".
"So you went?"
"And left" you add, "which wasn't part of the plan".
He lays next to you, crossing his arms. You try not to get distracted with the closeness.
"Why did you?"
"Leave? Because... well, things happened".
Your skin prickles uncomfortably, like it did back at the house you ran away from―the whole reason you're here, next to Eddie.
"That thing being...?" Brock presses, then realizing you probably don't want to tell, so he shuts up.
"Don't worry" it's like you guess his thoughts, "It's just... sort of embarrassing".
You breathe in some air.
"He wasn't supossed to be there. My ex" you clarify, "yet he went. And guess what? With his new girlfriend! And alright, I'm not a girl who holds grudges, but it hasn't even been two months since we broke up and now he's matching costumes with her?"
Saying it out loud sounds a tad bit childish, but Eddie doesn't seem to be judging, and your pride continues to be bruised, so you carry on with your little rant.
"So I drank a little too much and went up to them. I don't know what took over me, but one second I was dancing and then Pamela Anderson in Baywatch was grabbing Pamela Anderson as Tommy Lee's wife by her hair. Real blonde hair, on top of that... that bitch. I decided to be Pamela Anderson first! Which, by the way, would never do that. She truly is a girl's girl" pause, "by that I mean parading around with the guy I ended things with because of you"
We should eat them.
Instead of what Venom said, Eddie asks:
"Your boyfriend cheated on you?"
"Yeah" embarrassment washes over you, "The owner of the house is friend's with her. So, I decided it was for the best to leave. My not so bright idea that followed was to walk to the nearest store for some junk and head home. And now I ended on this side of town I don't know. Lucky me"
Lucky us that found you.
"Wow" Eddie manages to muster after all your information dump and Venom's little comment, "they're idiots. I'm sorry".
"Thanks, but my night is still ruined" you take a look at your legs, "now I have to walk home, and I suspect, bare―without your jacket".
He doesn't know what takes over him when he says, or maybe it's Venom giving him the boost of courage he needs.
"Need'a ride?" your face morphs into surprise. He adds, "Keep my jacket. That way you can give it back when we're there"
Your eyes trail to the bike parked on the side, which you guess belongs to him. This is hard because the decision is so easy.
Hey, sometimes you gotta do it for the plot!
"We both win" is his way of insisting. "No more stares, and my jacket gets express delivered to me".
You don't need that much insisting, almost instantly caving in, walking over the bike and hoping behind him―like you know he'd never hurt you; full on trusting him.
"I don't have a spare one. Use mine" he apologizes, handing you the helmet he carried before.
"Thanks" you accept, "at this point I'll have to pay you. Do you accept my chocolates? It's all I got with me"
"We'll discuss those arrangements later" his deep voice comments, and well, you might just give him anything he wants!
Before you can regret your life choices, the engine roars, Eddie making his way through the street, all your surroundings reduced to a blur.
"Woah!" you shout, but it gets lost in the wind and speed. Luckily for you, the wig is secured inside the helmet. At this speed, there would be a blonde mop on the street somewhere.
"Liking it?" he asks over the noise. You only can happily humm in response.
Honestly, you've never felt this... free before. It's liberating: your hair dancing in the wind, the crisp trepidation in your fingers, the way you dare yourself to let loose and let the experience consume you. It's the first time you truly feel alive.
All you can think now is on the adrenaline coursing through your system. That and the way you're holding onto Eddie's thick back, your arms caging his form. You can feel his heartbeat too, as steady as yours. You can't help but wonder if it's because of the ride or the passenger he's carrying in the back.
You keep giving him directions whenever he looks back, keeping it like that until you both arrive at your apartment complex.
Once the bike is parked, he whistles. "Nice. Much better than mine"
You give his helmet back, taking the wig off in the process too.
"I'll have to see it to believe it" you tease, and if he heard, Eddie pretends not to.
There's some silence until you understand it's over: the original "stuffing and watching horror movies until I sleep" isn't sounding as good as extending your time with Eddie. For some reason, you can't seem to let go yet, and accept that tonight was a rare occasion that will only be once.
"Well, I guess this is it" you hate the way the obvious disappointment drips in your tone, "thank you, Eddie. Goodnight"
You hop off and take the jacket out of your body. If your skin gets goosebumps, you'll blame the cold.
Guess Pamela Anderson didn't work her magic tonight.
"Wait!"
Or maybe she did.
"Yes?" you turn around, smiling a bit too much.
Eddie doesn't look at you when he says, "we didn't discuss the payment"
Your red lips purse into a smile.
"We can discuss the details inside" and point out your apartment on the third floor, "for the cold, obviously. It's warm up there, you know; I've been told they like my heat"
You finally recognize the feeling from before, at the store. It's mutual. The tension; it still lingers.
"Sure" he says sounding all but that, "show me the way".
Your voice drops as you say, "Follow me, then"
And you lead the way: wet spot in between your legs, growing as your excitement. As you open the door, Eddie can't help but think the inside is so you: sweet and girly―like a strawberry bubblegum.
"Like what you see?" you joke, sitting in the couch. It has double meaning, obviously, but Eddie is so oblivious he just answers:
"It's so... you" mentally slapping himself when he says it, "I mean... you know, pink"
Idiot! She's talking about herself.
You giggle, "And?"
Patting the empty spot next to you, Brock walks over, like in a trance. You can see him gulp―nervous, the adam's apple on his throat bobbing.
Coward! Say something.
"Pretty..." he breathes out.
His hand finds its way to your bare thigh, and the touch is so electric, it takes you a lot not to jump at the contact.
Now kiss her!
"Don't be scared, Eddie" your voice is so low he swears he's dreaming. "I don't bite" there's a pause before you add, "unless you want me to".
Do it!
He would be lying if he said Venom is the reason why he leans forward, wrapping his lips around yours. Why he suddenly feels hungry, starving, eating your mouth out like he hasn't had a meal in days is beyond him.
"That's right" you moan between kisses, "cash your pay out, cowboy".
His hands tug on your hair as he deepens the kiss, a few groans echoing around the apartment.
"I like it" he twirls a strand in between your fingers, "suits you better".
There's a hearty laug emitting from your chest, "you do? Show me then"
It's like something snapped inside of him.
His hand moves to hug you from behind, right at the bare spot the swim suit had.
"You smell so sweet" Eddie's inhaling the vainilla scent off your soft skin, and Venom growls in pleasure, "like a pastry".
You have to laugh again, because this man is clearly touched starved.
Now he's rubbing his nose along the length of your neck, leaving some wet kisses that have you swearing his tongue isn't human. He mumbles incoherences like he's drunk, begging he wants to shove his mouth where it belongs: that being between your legs, to taste what he’s been craving for so long.
"Well, if you want it so bad" you make a play at his earlier words, "eat it".
So with trembling hands, he's pushing the little piece of bathing suit until your clit is exposed. His other hand grips your hip, and it doesn't take that long for him to fall onto his knees, the pink fluffly carpet on the floor providing some ground.
He beggins to toy with it, leaving you to collect a gasp. Alright! He has experience. Not that you ever doubted it, but now that he's here, his fingers inside of you, you can't help but feel the luckiest girl in the world.
"Thought the sweet you wanted was some chocolates" you manage to joke between moans, his thick fingers too busy lubing the needy area.
He gets another moan out of you, "this is better" grabbing a finger out, he licks a bit of your essence left on his fingers, "tastes much better. Look at you, so wet already; good girl"
Now he's doing tight little circles, his thick fingers speeding up the pace―quicker and quicker, until you're writhing in his grip. Your red nail dig into his forearm leaving little crescents. The haze may be too much that you don't know if the way they instantly heal is something you imagined or not.
"P-please, Eddie" you mewl.
Let me try, Eddie.
Without explaining, his tongue begins licking your inner thighs where your liquids dripped. It sends a shiver down your spine, and God, how thankful you are about leaving the party. The consequences of your petty fight and disastrous little adventure didn't end up being so bad.
"Sweet" he exclaims in that distorted voice back from the store. Your eyes go wide, so he rushes an "I'll explain later".
He doesn't give you much time to dwell on it before his tongue finds its way to your core again: the muscle licking the wet folds of your sensitive clit before diving fully. You swear his tongue has gotten longer with the way he explores your warm insides, quickly finding the spot no one but yourself has correctly pleased before.
Soft sobs fall from your lips. "Yes, More! P-please!"
His tongue continues its ministrations, almost lazily against it. Your body tenses up, reacting to him so well, and the familiar warmth pools in your abdomen.
He keeps licking until you’re twitching in over-sensitivity. A groan escapes his drooling lips, "I'm still a gentleman, you know?" the vibration his voice makes in between your legs sends a delicious wave that does nothing but ignite the fire pooling in the low of your stomach. "Ladies first"
You deliciously cum on his awaiting tongue. Even in your haze, you find his eyes, and the previous warm brown looks closer to hungry now, his pupils blown wide.
"Go ahead" you encourage, "be a good boy for me and taste it".
His fingers lick your remains off of them, his tongue making an obscene display.
"Will you let me pay you, now?"
He doesn't even need to wait, his hand eagerly taking his cock out of his pants―taking the sweat pants out in record time, sliding his girth between your legs, rubbing it against your folds that give him a warm welcome, coating it in your wetness.
Eddie slides inside you with ease, his hands resting on your waist as he slams his entire length inside you. The couch creaks, the only other sound in the apartment your hiss, because of the initial stretch. He gives you time to adjust and then he starts moving. 
"Y/n, God. You pretty sweet thing" his hot breathe mumbles against your ear.
Never in your life you would've thought you'd gone home with a complete stranger, but by the way Eddie Brock is deep inside you right now, you may do it more often. Or even better, bring him back. Maybe meet his apartment next time.
Eddie thinks he's gone insane. He's never had sex like this before. Not even on his wildest dreams. Hell, doesn't know if it's the lack of activity before you, your filthy mouth dripping with moans or the way you perfectly wrap around him, or maybe his newfound stamina he could finally put to use, thanks to Venom. Maybe it's all that, but who cares? God, he's loving every second of it.
Eddie uses his hands to grab your ass, holding onto the soft flesh so firm, you'll have bruises tomorrow for sure. He starts pumping you fast and deep like an animal. You muffle your screams against the crook of his neck, fully aware that doesn't stop the paper thin walls from telling your neighbours the good time you're having.
You feel your moves start to get unsteady, your orgasm closer and closer. "I'm c-close" you blurt out and he growls instead of talking. The way your body jolts with each of his poundings is insane. Your friend will never let this go if you tell them. But it just feels so fucking good.
"Fuck!"
Your whole body shakes when the wave of pleasure heats you. His hand is suprinsingly soft, caressing your cheek as you rest your forehead against his to catch your breathe.
"That's the best sex I've ever had" he confesses, his voice sounding drunk. Every drop of alcohol in your system has completely vanished by now, but you feel dizzy too, the overstimulation driving your senses to it's limits.
But it doesn't make you stop.
"How can you rate something that hasn't finished?" you move your body so Eddie stays against the coach. When he realizes what you're trying to do, he half-supresses a moan. "If you want to give your opinion, you better finish the whole plate".
So now you're on top of him, riding his cock like nothing; you must also have a symbiote inside of you, because Eddie can't explain your infinite stamina. So young, so pretty and so goddamn tight; he really won tonight, huh?
The change of position makes his cock slightly change the angle, hitting your g-spot. "Oh my god, right here!" you gasp. Your pussy clenches while you keep bouncing on his dick. If it weren't for the bathing suit, your tits would be bouncing. That doesn't mean he doesn't imagine them, your nipples perking through the fabric making it all too easy.
"You're so perfect" he whispers against your shoulder, "you sweet little thing".
If he keeps calling you like that, you might ask him to stay the night.
You feel like it, so, as a reward, you press your lips against his and he moans at your cunt clenching. He knows you are close again.
"Cum for me, y/n" he demands in his deep voice. Your name in his lips is such an addictive sound, you're sure you've reached heaven.
"Cum with me, Eddie" you manage to say.
So now he sits a little straighter on your poor couch (that's seen and taken only so much) so he can wrap his other arm around your waist. You take him deeper every time, even if now the position makes it a bit uncomfortable, but every shiver of pleasure you get is worth it.
"At least look at me when you do it" his brown orbs bore into yours. You can't hold back any longer, your hips rolling to increase the friction.
Your second orgasm washes over you: toes curling and body shaking. You've never felt more tired and energetic in your life. So you fall in Eddie's strong tattoed arms. He joins you, painting your tight walls with his thick and white shots of cum.
You are both out of breathe but Eddie takes his time and kisses you deeply.
"I think this life guard is out of duty for now" you mumble sleepily against his arms, tracing lazily his tattoos. He chuckles, moving one of his hands to brush strands of your damp hair from your forehead.
"What about the chocolates?" he jokes.
"Fuck them" you yawn, "stay here". He might've heard it wrong.
Stupid Eddie and stupid little human brain. She wants us here!
After some minutes of silence your sleepy voice mumbles, "You didn't explain me anything, cheater. If you want to stay, talk".
He feels you rest your head on his shoulder, sleep taking control of your form. You look so cute, he starts to forget how shitty his life actually is.
Hey! I can hear your thoughts, idiot. Your life isn't shitty anymore, I'm here!
"How about a bed time story? I promise I won't leave any detail out"
You cuddle closer to his warm body, "Promise?"
He intertwines his pinky finger with yours, promising himself this won't be the last time he sees you.
"Promise"
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rafesslxt · 8 months ago
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Lustpotion | mattheo riddle
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summary: you‘re in a boring relationship with cedric diggory and after his enemy mattheo hits a few nerves with his words, he gives you a potion. what you didn‘t know is that it was a sex and lust potion
warnings: cheating (sorry cedric), mind reading, drugging ( kind of, you drinking an unknown potion he gives you ), fingering, dirty talk, praise, dom!mattheo x sub!reader, unprotected p in v, kiiinda enemy to lovers thingy
notes: i‘m making up for not posting so long with posting this third post in 2 days hehe, english is not my first language
tags: @unicors1993 @atadoddinnit @awh-lillies @idk-simra @onyxwingsandcrowblackdreams @xitsametaphorbrianx @kiwi475
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My shoulders heavy and my mind racing, I walked into the common room of my house, Slytherin.
All I wanted in that moment was to fall in bed and sleep through the whole weekend. But Pansy had other plans, apparently, cause my door did not open as I tried to walk in our shared dorm. I groan and bang against the door. "Pansy! Open up!" "Sorry Y/n, Draco's over!" I hear her shouting. Perfect, fucking perfect.
With a frown on my face I walk back into the common room, letting myself fall onto one of the couches, closing my eyes, not even caring who's around.
"Wow, I never thought I would have the honor to spend time with you." I hear a dark voice echoing through the empty common room. I open my eyes and see Mattheo sitting on the opposite couch, now standing up and sitting down on mine but on the other end of it.
I just lazily roll my eyes at him and mutter "Don't flatter yourself, Riddle. You know I'm not here for you." He smirks at my answer and shakes his head slowly. "It's just such a shame that you're with Diggory. You know.. he can't keep up with you." I look at him, confused at the sudden change of subject. " How would you know that?"
"I know a lot more than you think, Y/N. I've been watching you two." "Oh great, so I have a stalker?" I answer sarcastically. There's a chuckle in his throat again. " Just observant. But I noticed something. You're not happy with Diggory, right?"
I scoff at his words and look at him directly. " Of course I am happy with Cedric. Why wouldn't I be? Every girl would be. He's so gentle, soft, sensitive.. a gentlemen." I slowly drift off while I'm talking.
"Yeah that's what you want most people to think but I know something else nobody knows about you two." " Oh enlighten me, please."
"I know you have a thing for troublemakers. A soft spot for those who can make your heart race, and Cedric? He's too perfect for you. You need someone who can challenge you, push your buttons, push you to your limits." I hold eye contact while he speaks, not wanting him to think I back down from this but his words hit a nerve, he just didn't needed to know that.
"How would you know what I really like, Riddle?" I question him, something that goes through my mind the whole time. " I pay attention Y/n, I notice things around me. And trust me when I tell you, you give off all the signs." "Signs?"
"Yes, signs. For example the way you always look at me when we argue, your cheeks getting all flustered. The way your heart races when we're close. Even the dream's you're having about me."
My eyed widen at his last comment and my body stiffens. "You can't hide anything from me." I gulp and shake my head. I told no one about my dreams. Didn't even write them into my diary out of fear someone could read it. There is only one way he could know this and I know that his father, Voldemort, was able to do this. "Did you read my mind? My dreams?"
A big smile spreads across his face. " Maybe, maybe not." Slowly I start to get frustrated with this conversation, showing it on my face. "What do you want Mattheo? Why do you care about all of this so much, hm?"
"Because I see something in you.. something I want to try. Maybe pushing your buttons a little bit." I look at him for a moment, waiting for him to tell me that this is a joke, but he doesn't.
I sigh tired "Doesn't matter, I'm with Cedric." "Is that what you truly want Y/n? Or are you just settling for what everybody expects you to want?" I gulp at his words feeling like they hit a nerve inside me again. "I like him, really.."
"I believe you Y/n, but that doesn't mean you can't have a little fun along the way." I laugh sarcastically at him. " Oh yeah let me guess, that fun would include you? You just want something to rub under Cedric's nose."
"Perhaps.." he admits with a smirk. " But what If I would offer you more than that? What If I could offer you things that Cedric never could? Wouldn't you be curious?"
I swallow, scanning his face before I look away, not knowing what to answer him. He's right tho, I really like Cedric but everything with him is so.. perfect. It bores me to death sometimes.. I just want something more fiercy but I would never admit that to Mattheo.
"You don't have to admit anything." he smirks like a little devil, letting me know he's inside my head. I'm happy that he sits on the other end or else he would feel the heat coming from my body and my heart racing. "What should I do then hm? Great, let me guess.. hopping into bed with you?"
"That's a start.." an arrogant smile on his face. "But I meant more like exploring the unknown together." His gaze flickers over my face, studying my reaction. "I promise you won't regret it."
"The unknown? And what would that be?" "Oh dear, don't you ever wonder what's outside there? What else you might be capable of? I can show you." He comes nearer, sitting in front of me now. "Then show me."
With a devilish grin he leans in even closer, his mouth brushing against my ear, his mouth opening slightly as I think he wants to say something but after a few seconds of waiting and his hot breath tickling my ear, he disappeared into thin air.
In shock I look at the place he just sat on a moment ago, then looking around me. Where the hell is he and how did he do that? "Mattheo?" I ask quietly into the empty room.
There was a soft chuckle that seemed to come from nowhere and then Mattheo reappeared right in front of me. " Suprised ?" he asks with a smirk. " I told you I could show you things."
"How did you-" "It's a talent." he says casually as If it's nothing to disappear into the air. "One you might find useful someday.. but let's concentrate on a little experiment for now." " What experiment?" I ask suspicious.
His voice is smooth as silk as he starts speaking again. " I want you to try something for me.." He holds out his hand in which lays a little bottle, unlabeled and filled with a dark red liquid. "Drink this."
I take it from his hand and look at it a bit closer, noticing sparkles in it. "What is that?"
"Just a little potion. It will open your senses, make you see and feel things differently." he says while watching me carefully. I lick my lips before asking If he made this by himself. "Of course.. I'm skilled in the art of potion-making, as you'll find out soon." he smirks. " Go on..drink it."
I don't know what it is but something inside me, whatever it is, screams at me with full lungs to do it, my fingers twitching as I look at the little phial. I open it, position it at my lips and let the unknown liquid run down my throat.
As I swallow it, I could already feel it heightening my senses, my emotions running wild inside me. I see him watching my face with satisfaction as I visibly tremble in his presence. " That's it.." he whispers, coming closer again. " W-what did you gave me Mattheo?" I stutter out as I feel myself getting warmer under my clothes.
"Just a little something to enhance your experience." he says, his voice filled with dripping lust. " You'll thank me later." Suddenly, without a warning, he leans in and kisses me, his tongue exploring my mouth instantly while slowly pressing me down against the couch.
I gasp into his mouth, feeling all kind of things at once. The potion made every nerve in me more sensitive, leaving me panting just from this kiss. Goosebumps erupt over my body as I slowly feel like I'm on fire.
Mattheo smiled against me, mumbling " It feels like all your senses are heightened, right?" I just nod and answer him with a short breathless "yes". "How does it feel now?" he asks as he presses his body harder against mine, still under him. I whine at the touch and close my eyes, too stunned to speak.
His smirk widens, his eyes gleaming with triumph. My body is trembling against his, every breath I take seems to be for him. "How does it feel?" he repeats his question. " Like..like every touch from you sets me on fire. It's burning.." I gasp again, my cheeks turning red.
"Is that so?" he hums, " Do you want me to make it burn even more?" he whispers in a seductive tone. I just nod, not thinking about my actions anymore. " Please Mattheo, I can't breathe." I feel my lungs getting heavier, just like the rest of my body.
He brings his hand up to my face, cupping my cheek and brushing his thumb over my trembling lip, causing me to shudder against him. " I'll make you scream, princess." he promises with his voice low and intense.
I bite my lip at his statement, my eyes slowly closing. " How long does the potion last?" "They can last for hours." he says with a wicked smile, still brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. He slowly let's it slide past my parted lips. He groans as I suck on it, letting my tongue swirl around it, before he slowly pulls out.
"Mattheo please, I need you." I whine, feeling as If I’m about to explode If he doesn't touch me and give me something. " You need me?" He starts to smile at my words, letting his hand wandering over my body. From my mouth down to my neck, down to my chest further to my stomach. I inhale sharply when his fingers brush my stomach, feeling it already tightening.
Shamelessly he opens my jeans, letting his finger disappear into my slip without hesitation. " You're already so wet for me." he groans as he feels me dripping onto his fingers. "I fucking love it." he mumbles against my lips before he kisses me.
He tugs at the rest of my jeans and slides them down without breaking the kiss, until my pants are gone. He takes of my top, leaving my lips this time and looking at me. "Oh you look so hot right now."
My cheeks get red and hot, my face all flustered. "You look so fucking good baby, fuck." he groans his hand going back inside my slip, his thumb circling my sensitive clit and his fore and middle finger go right inside my pussy, pumping me.
"Oh god Mattheo, it‘s too much!" I whimper loudly as he continues to tease me with his touch. It didn‘t take me long before I come on his fingers, clenching around them.
My nails dig into his arms and leave marks all over them, broken whimpers and screams leave my mouth but before anyone could hear, they were muffled by Mattheo‘s hand over my mouth.
"Shh, we can't have anyone hear this, right?" "I need more Mattheo, please. Fuck me!" I hiss, feeling as If I might die If he doesn‘t"
"Poor baby, all fucked out and I've barely even touched you." he says, smiling down at me and my shaking body. His fingers come back to my pussy but this time they only play with my clit which makes me arch my back and gasping really loudly."N-no.. more.." i stutter out.
"Oh I‘ll give you more." he promises, chuckling low in his throat, unable to resist my pleas. He pulls me closer, our bodies flush against each other. With his free hand, he unbuttoned his own pants, letting out a sharp breath as he feels my wetness against his erection.
My eyes go wide as I look down and see his cock. My mouth hangs open a bit and I feel myself getting even wetter. "I - am I dreaming or is this real?" i ask him, not sure If the potion lets me imagine thing.
He laughs at my words and shakes his head. "It’s real.." he growls. "And you're gonna find out just how fucking real it feels."
Before I could say anything, I feel his thick tip against my entrance, pushing itself inside me with a sudden force that made me roll my eyes back to my brain.
"God, you feel so good, so tight." he moans as he starts to move his hips. I buck my hips up against his, finally feeling full, finally feeling that fire on my skin cool down a little bit. I look around the room, realizing again, that we‘re in the middle of the common room and anybody could just walk outside their dorms and see us. But at that moment I couldn‘t care less, it even turned me on when I‘m being honest.
He leans down to my face and whispers inside my ear " you like that thought of getting caught hm? The thrill of being watched.." I moan even louder at his words that let me know he read my mind again. "Please.." i breathe out.
I felt so drunk.. drunk of him. "I bet you would beg anyone to fuck you right now." he murmured as his eyes roam over my trembling body. "N-no, only you.." i whine and it‘s true. I feel like there is a connection through the potion to him. A desire that only he can satisfy.
"I want to feel you." I beg him as he slowly pumps his cock in and out of me. "You want it rough or smooth?" "Rough." i answer without hesitation.
Mattheo's grin widens and his eyes gleam with lust. "You got it.." he growls, pulling me up and pushing me onto the table in front of him. I gasp at the sudden change.
He ignores the possibility of being caught, his hands gripping my hips tightly as he positions himself at my entrance. He pushes into me hard, filling me completely with one thrust. "Fuck" he groans, starting to move his hips in a steady rhythm.
His lips curl into a devilish smile, his movements becoming more aggressive. "You like it rough, huh?" he asked rhetorically, increasing the pace of his thrusts. I slam my hands down onto the table and try to stabilize myself but it‘s useless. He‘s fucking me like an wild animal, the table wiggling like crazy.
We both feel the intensity of the situation growing, his cock twitching with each thrust and my pussy clenching. "You're mine," he growls, grabbing my hair roughly and pulling my head back. He starts moving faster, almost losing control.
I can‘t answer. His statement reminds me of Cedric for a moment and guilt crashes over me. Mattheo felt a surge of jealousy at the thought of Cedric's name crossing my mind as he reads it again. He slams into me harder, his body trembling with effort. "You belong to me," he repeated through gritted teeth, his eyes locked onto mine.
"I bet he can't fuck you like I can. I can take care of you. You don't need anyone but me."
I still don‘t answer him, pressing my lips together which just angers him more. "You‘ll beg for it." he snarls and lifts my leg over his shoulder, getting even deeper which leads to me squirming and breathing fast.
"I'm going to fuck him out of your smart little brain, understood?" I just nod and claw my nails into his back, leaving marks all over. "Tell me you belong to me." he whispers into my ear, thrusting with more force inside me. "I- I don‘t know.." i whimper as i feel him hitting my soft spot.
"What would he think If he could see you right now, hm?" he taunts over me and smiles, scanning my face and body. "Such a little slut for me.“
I scream his name, muffling it with my own hand as I feel myself getting close. "I need to come, please. I'll do anything!" "Say it." he says, his hips getting slower, teasing me.
"I - I‘m yours Mattheo. I belong to you." I cry out as he thrust inside of me like a mad men. "Come for me princess." he moans, his thumb going over my clit again. My eyes roll back once again as he hits my cervix, fucking me speechless.
"Bite me." I look at him confused before he repeats himself. "Bite into my shoulder when you come."
With a brutal pace he slams his cock inside me, leaving me dumb and brainless as he chases his own release. A broken sob comes out of my throat and my stomach twists in the best way ever as i come around his throbbing cock, milking him. I do as he told me to and bite into his shoulder as I scream.
I feel him release inside of me, pumping me full with his cum and painting my walls with his hot seed. He holds me in place, making sure I take every last drop of him.
"So good for me, look at how much you came." he whispers as he pulls his cock out, looking at our mixed juices. I look down and the picture sends shivers down my spine.
"I - uh.. I might have left a few marks." I admit kinda shy as I feel the potion flowing out of my system.
" I must say, you are quite the little cockslut." he said, admiring the mess between my legs and my work on his back and arms. He leans down and whispers into my ear. "Now clean up and go to sleep princess. You‘ll sit with me at breakfast."
"But - I sit with Cedric every time." "Well, that‘s too bad, cause you‘re sitting with me tomorrow." he says, knowing how mich he will get under Cedric‘s skin with this. "And remember, If you don‘t show up I will find you." he says, daring me to argue with him.
— next morning —
As I walk into the great hall, my heart keeps pounding in my chest like its about to explode. My hands are twitching and I couldn‘t hide my nervousness on my face.
I fell asleep last night with an sore aching pussy and a dream that about Mattheo that was .. well, interesting. But I bet he already read my thoughts and dreams I had. Damn, I really had to do something about that later.
I gulp as I walk further into the Hall, standing still as I look over all the four tables. At first I look over to the Hufflepuff table with Cedric sitting on it. He smiles at me as he notices me. That perfect smile.
Then I looked over to my table, seeing Mattheo‘s eyes were already on me. He looks at me with daring eyes, gleaming with lust and power.
Suddenly I hear a voice inside my head, whispering. "Don‘t even think about it my little cockslut." I bite my lip at the choice of his words. I look over to Cedric again, sending him an apologetic look before walking over to an arrogant looking Mattheo, smiling smugly at Cedric.
thank you so much for reading! Comment down beloe If you wanna get tagged in part 2 cause there will be one.. suprise: sub!mattheo 👀
thank you also for every kind of support 😚
xoxo sarah <3
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alessiamalfoyzabini · 23 days ago
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Howl at Midnight
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Pairing | werewolf!Jimin x human!Reader
Word Count | 7.5k
Warnings | +18, angst, smut, halloween theme, an apparently abandoned castle (don't trespass on other people's property 🤧), mentions of a pact made with the city's residents, poison, MC doesn't really have much choice 💀, forced nudity, dark themes and also yandere (?), underneath MC finds the situation exciting, bites and marks, sink the canines and drink blood, PWP, oral sex, pussy worship, dubcon, begging, virginity loss, unprotected sex (use protection!), vaginal sex, big dick, knotting, MC abandons herself to her fate (I think Jimin's supernatural nature contributes in MC's choices), eat cum, this is not for minors.
This fanfiction is dark and yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.
I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.
This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.
Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.
⤷ Summary | You always thought you lived in a quiet, small town. You never imagined that the locals would be able to keep such a secret for centuries, you fell into their trap… But it doesn't seem so bad.
➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys!!! 🥹
My best friend and I challenged each other to write a Halloween-themed story using the following keywords: werewolf - halloween - virginity - castle - poison.
I don't know why I came up with such a story, it was supposed to be something simple but my dark side took over WAY too much 💀
Anyway my best friend liked the story and suggested that I publish it, so here it is, I already apologize for any mistakes and for the plot which is not who knows what 🥺
Howl at Midnight was written for recreation, but I still hope you enjoy it ❤️
PS: I really didn't know how to classify this story, when in doubt I put the warning “yandere,” since there are behaviors that go a little beyond 😵‍💫
Permanent Taglist | @katherine-kookie, @btsuga-d, @reallygenerouskoala, @takemeaway5402, @velvet-stardust2002, @jimincrystal, @ke1k029, @kylafox09, @pantara, @themwordsblog, @angelicsmilesworld
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It's a rather dark night, you think, as the flickering lights of street lamps barely illuminate your path. You and some of your friends have decided to spend Halloween night roaming the more desolate streets of your small town, rather than attend the party of the school's homecoming queen, the most popular and at the same time most hated girl ever by you and your friends, a common ground that has certainly welded your friendship.
You are reminded of the afternoon you spent at Glenn's house deciding how you would spend Halloween night; Glenn's initiative had been rather unique, since he was not a fan of that holiday.
“It will be fun, everything is so scary at night, we might even meet a real vampire! I mean, not like Edward Cullen, I mean one who doesn't sparkle-” but Glenn's excited monologue had been badly interrupted by his girlfriend, Claire, who had hit him over the head with a book, and who knows why, said book was actually titled Twilight. You remember giggling, willingly accepting that idea, but now...
“We were simply supposed to go for a walk, Glenn,” you mutter ruefully, looking around, “Do you want to tell me where you're taking us?”
The red-haired boy snorts again, settling into his vampire costume bought at a thrift store stall, “Come on Y/N, what would life be without a little thrill?”
Claire, for her part, nods in turn with a euphoric smile, as if she knows something you don't, prancing merrily dressed as a red devil among black lace decorations and lace.
“Life would be as it has always been, wonderful,” you blurt out nervously, freezing suddenly.
The asphalt has run out and the streetlights have stopped dimly illuminating the entire street, you are at the edge of the most talked about lands in your town. When and how exactly did you get there?
“Here we are, my girls,” you hear Glenn say, satisfied with his feat.
“What are we doing here?” you swallow, far from cheerful.
Answering you is Claire, “It's an abandoned castle and this is Halloween night, what do you say?”
You grit your teeth, shaking your head, “You're crazy, I'm not going in there!” you take a step back, your heart stirring, but Glenn stops you in a single moment.
“Where do you think you're going? I promised your brother I'd keep an eye on you,” he tells you sternly, and you know he's right, you can't just leave on your own, the streets are empty but it would still be dangerous.
“Don't you want to see what it's really like inside, aren't you the least bit curious?”
Short answer? No.
More articulate answer? Fuck no.
“Come on, don't be a wimp now!”
You snort, casting a glance at the castle in question.
It is as large as it is gloomy; the older inhabitants of the town have always spoken of the presence of various monsters within it, which is why the lands surrounding the castle are so large, preventing the actual growth of the otherwise large and well-populated town. Some of the land had been ceded to keep the monsters quiet.
That's some bullshit. And you're certainly not a wimp.
What will you find in there, maybe overgrown spiders? You shake your head, certainly nothing up to the Acromantulae seen in Harry Potter.
“I'm not afraid,” you limit yourself to saying, Glenn and Claire seem satisfied with your answer as they begin to step over half of the downed iron bars surrounding the gates of the immense building. It bothers you that they haven't bothered beyond you, but it's Halloween night; you can't really spoil their fun.
You hold on tightly to one of the rusty old iron bars, lift one leg trying not to fall off because of the bulky skirt of your witch costume, and end up straight on the ground covered with dry mud and grass, thank the heavens that it hasn't rained in the last few days, otherwise goodbye costume, although more like an elegant medieval dress and nothing more than that.
“Guys, wait for me!” you exclaim as you turn toward them, but you find yourself rolling your eyes.
The darkness is almost completely pitch black, only the moon high in the sky gives you some brightness in that open space surrounded by green trees and uncultivated grass. Your friends are not there.
“Please tell me this is a joke, please,” you growl, turning only a few seconds to climb over the railing, “Glenn? Claire?”
A shiver of unease snakes down your spine, as if someone - or something - is watching you. But you immediately banish the absurd thought. The Halloween atmosphere always makes everything quite scary; your friends chose that place for that very reason.
Imagining that you simply find them in front of the castle's entrance, you also wander down the path that actually looks like anything else by now. You will meet each other there.
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The wind blows without worrying about your bare shoulders because of the dress's boat neckline; the cape had long since been taken away along the way. You bought it in an antique store and the elderly man seemed quite eager to get rid of it. He even gave you a discount.
The sound of falling leaves under the force of the draught is quite terrifying, especially now that you've discovered you can't use your cell phone. There is absolutely no service there, and isn't that how the best horror movies begin?
A frustrated groan leaves your throat, you don't have to think about it.
“Glenn?” you try to call out once more, but along the path echoes the hoots of an owl that is probably scrutinizing you with condescension, wondering why a silly girl like you is wandering around in such a desolate, godforsaken place.
When you arrive at the gates of the castle, you find yourself admiring the extraordinary Gothic architecture of the huge, ancient building made of stone and marble. The fact that it has survived over the centuries without any kind of restoration is a testament to the good materials that were used.
One by one, you walk down the stone steps, sudden thunder jolts you violently, and with fear in your veins you throw yourself toward the immense reinforced door, finding it ajar, a sign that Glenn and Claire must have already entered. You ignore the hint of annoyance, since they could at least wait for you, you must escape the sudden storm.
Wordlessly you notice the large, thick black clouds enveloping the sky, obscuring even the immense full moon.
You carefully close the ancient gateway, looking around the thick-walled atrium decorated with paintings that are surely worth more than your current home, not to mention the carpet you are walking on, though a bit worn, is definitely from the time of the castle's founding. You wonder which lord lived there and whether it can be traced in the history books.
“Claire?” you whisper, afraid of disturbing someone, but who exactly?
Sighing wearily, you really have no time or inclination to play along with your friends, you rest your hand on the wrought-iron railing of the staircase, beginning to climb so that you can find those two idiots as soon as possible and get home safely.
They say 'God makes them and then matches them up,' right? You mentally growl, well, you would’ve just wiped them out instead.
Between corridors that are not real corridors but dead ends, some narrow and some exaggeratedly large, you finally find the wing reserved for rooms, hating the enormity of that place.
“Hey, you ... are you here?” you ask, slowly opening a bedroom door with one eye closed and one only slightly open, fearing to find the two lovebirds doing strange things in the leto of an abandoned castle, because they would be perfectly capable of it.
But what you find is just a lavishly decorated bedroom absolutely empty of any other life forms but you.
“This is definitely a joke,” you chuckle mirthlessly, clutch your arms to your chest, and continue that unwelcome tour of yours, continuing to open rooms at random, with no more expectation of finding anyone in them, until you come to a rather large bedroom.
Quite different from the others, which up to that point had been yes, beautiful, but empty, lacking a soul.
This one was immense just like the castle itself, yet warm, thanks to the burning fireplace. The four-poster bed was adorned with red silk sheets, as were the velvet curtains tied to the solid wooden columns, on the walls finely decorated with gold paint were hung medieval tapestries, depicting hunting parties, running horses and wolves, wolves everywhere. One that particularly strikes you depicts two wolves and a woman in the center, they seem ready to bite her fiercely, you notice with discomfort.
High glass windows with curtains left open allow lightning to illuminate the entire room, followed by a terrible, howl-like rumble.
That horrible noise seems to awaken you from the sort of trance you fell into while admiring the surely master bedroom, and you finally take serious note of the burning fire. Why a working fireplace in a castle uninhabited for years?
“To many the night brings counsel, to me it has brought a lovely maiden, I see...” you gasp surprised and terrified, turning toward the silky, warm, yet slightly hoarse, almost growling voice.
A relatively young man watches you with his shoulder resting against one of the stained glass windows. You had not seen him. No. He was not there before, you are absolutely sure.
His dark, shiny hair has been grown down to his neck, some curling around his sharp, elegant jaw, the neck left bare by his unbuttoned, white shirt is a set of sinuous, sharp, powerful lines. The soft black pants do nothing to hide the wonderful figure of his long legs, his feet are bare, you notice. He feels perfectly comfortable, as if... as if that were his home.
“I-I... I'm sorry, it's Halloween and some friends of mine thought...” you try to explain with your hands clasped to the skirt of your dress, but you are immediately interrupted by the man's sophisticated, sassy giggle.
“They thought it was a brilliant idea to violate my property?” you pale at his question.
“We... the whole town believes the castle is uninhabited,” you reply with a shy breath, trying to justify them.
The young man breaks away from the glass window, slowly approaching you, you take steps back, inadvertently bumping into one of the pillars of the bed.
“And does it look uninhabited to you, little girl?”
Little girl? By the look of him, he wouldn't seem that much older than you, in fact.
Now that he has moved closer, standing only a foot away from you, you notice details of his face that you did not catch a few moments earlier.
He has high, pronounced cheekbones, and his lips seem so plump and soft that you blush at the thought of kissing them, his nose is well-proportioned and straight, while the peculiar shape of his eyes gives him a rather sweet and angelic air, although the fun written in them is anything but angelic.
“I didn't know, I'm really sorry, sir,” and it's true, the last thing you want is to be a nuisance to someone you don't even know, “I'll get my friends back and we'll leave right away, I promise.”
Dark eyes rimmed with long eyelashes watch you closely, before dropping to the rest of your body. Suddenly you remember the deep cleavage of your witch's dress, your skin burning under his watchful gaze.
“Right now there is no one else in the castle, except you and me,” he approaches again, you can feel his warm breath meet your neck, you shiver as the man clasps one hand above your head, around the pillar of the bed, doing the same with the other. This makes it clear how statuesque his physique is, compared to your more petite one, you also catch a subtle citrus fragrance, light and not cloying, is that him?
With a huge effort, you process his words, widening your eyes. No one else?
“But how-”
“In my opinion you made it all up, little girl,” he sneers, "Just admit that it was your curiosity that drove you here," but you shake your head, vehemently denying it.
“I really came here with friends!” you fret, you've never been good at handling pressure and this guy is not helping you at all.
“Oh, really?” a devilish smile makes its way across his soft, smooth cheeks, "So it's just a coincidence that you're wearing this dress?" you don't know how to answer the question, you can't, not when he lowers a hand over you, brushes the outline of your face with a finger, trailing down the delicate line of your neck to your cleavage, your rippling, shivering skin longs to receive his touch once more, you struggle to recover.
“Th-this dress?” you stammer in shame, his finger is still grazing your chest and you are doing nothing to push it away.
“Mh-mh,” he nods, pushing your cleavage down a few millimeters, enough to make you squeak with red cheeks, “How much do you know about this castle and its owners, little girl?”
Nothing, you'd like to answer, but your eyes already communicate your answer as he pulls back, finally letting you breathe. His scent still hovers around you, though.
“Year 1479, the people of the town of Howl enter into an agreement with the seven lords of Midnight, ceding a part of their lands to these noble lords and agreeing to send a virgin once every ten years, on the so-called Halloween Night,” he narrates, leaving you speechless, “In return, none of the townspeople would be hunted down and killed, does that ring a bell?”
“L-Listen to me, I really don't know what you're talking about, I definitely have to go now,” you nod at your own words, but the door slams shut along with a new and terrible rumble, an anguished cry involuntarily leaving your throat.
“The dress you're wearing is soaked in poison, little girl” the imperious tone terrifies you, automatically your body closes in on itself, as a kind of protection.
“This must definitely be a joke, it is Halloween after all,” you whisper to yourself with tears in your eyes.
“It's a security, for us. It ensures that the girls don't run away, because we are the only ones who can neutralize that poison” you don't know why the man started speaking in plural, you just know that you have to leave, even though something inside you is screaming at you not to. Because it could end very badly.
“You'd better take it off, your body might absorb more poison than is really necessary, the sooner we start the better,” he sighs, beginning to take off his white shirt, showing off a well-built, smooth chest and abs studded with thin scars lighter than his skin, swallowing without any more salivation, following long lines of black ink that weave across his pecs, forming some kind of mark, perhaps related to some cult.
“What are you doing!”
The man tilts his head, his soft hair following the movement meekly, and grasps the edge of his pants, running his forefinger and thumb over it defiantly as he watches you, “I'm taking what was given to me, little girl,” he sneers again, not at all impressed by your shock.
It was not uncommon for him and his brothers to be served girls who were totally unaware of their own destiny, they were tiresome at times, they would not stop shaking and crying, praying not to be deprived of their purity, but you smell so delicious that it might make him go beyond your dullness.
The fabric of his excellent quality pants slowly flows over the flawless skin of his toned legs, the blood rushes straight to your cheeks, and your heart misses a beat with a strangled “iiih” as you realize that the stranger has not only freely undressed in front of you, but is not wearing any underwear.
You've certainly never seen a naked man in person, but based on your anatomy books, that is definitely not a normal penis.
With a strange feeling of dizziness and no little embarrassment, you realize that even at rest, it is definitely big, with a swollen base almost as big as perfectly round testicles and such obvious purplish veins that you wonder if it is actually already hard, in its own way. Could that vibrant pink be an indicator? God, what the hell are you thinking?!
After a little dizziness your eyes fly to the closed door, you have to leave, run.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks you, smiling with a hint of danger in his eyes, “Do you want to run? Run away from me? Know that this will only excite me more.”
You try to look away from his cock, with extreme difficulty, as he spoke, his cock had moved slightly, as if agreeing with the man's words. You ignore the slight jolt between your legs.
“If I can get through the gates of your property, will you let me go?” you propose almost shyly, staring into his sly eyes.
“Um... if I let you go, you'd die from the poison, but if that's what you want...” he shrugs, making you frown. The story of the poisoned dress might be bullshit to convince you to let him fuck you, but what if it's not?
You shake your head, it's all just a bluff. This man is clearly a pervert, maybe he gets off on fucking on such nights with stranger women.
“That's what I want.” you assure with a note of panic in your voice, the desire to escape is so urgent you can hardly think, “Open the door.”
But the man shakes his head, “Strip and I will leave you free to roam my lands until I find you.”
“I don't-!” the words die between your lips, his singsong expression gone, giving way to a sternness that clashes with his regal features, the difference making that contrast frightening.
“I like to play, little girl ... but I don't tolerate whining, don't make me angry, because I might decide to take you now, we have a bed available right here and now,” he hisses, clenching his fist against the polished wooden backboard of the four-poster bed. The more he looks at you, the more his balls throb fiercely; he's trying to control his desire; if his cock hardens, that's the end.
You're the first woman he's seen in 60 years, finally his turn has come, and there's no way he'll let you go. Do you want to play? He'll let you, but eventually you'll give in to his desires. The scent of your sweet virgin pussy makes his wolf growl, eager to get out to meet you.
Perhaps you sense something strange, because with trembling fingers you go to unbutton the side opening of your dress, a little sorry to him, the plunging neckline raises and shapes your breasts invitingly, though the stench of the poison with which it is imbued leaves him disgusted. An idea of humans to persuade chosen women not to flee, his eyes scroll over the ancient clock hanging above the door, the hands turn and you have just four hours to go before the poison takes effect, killing you. He would be sorry to see you die without having had a chance to taste you first.
“Tic-Tac, the clock is ticking, little girl... the slower you are, the more likely you are to die,” he informs you with a smile, your fear written all over his face igniting his loins; he has to restrain himself so he doesn't jump on you, and you're aware of that now, too.
Your eyes study his shoulders, they have stiffened noticeably, and with embarrassing speed you unfasten the last side button, letting the soft black fabric of your dress slip off like a veil, leaving you in your bra and panties. You start up under his eyes, which move to observe every nook and cranny of your body, from the soft breasts enclosed in the cups of the purple lace bra, going lower and lower, past the delicious curve of your hips to the tightly clasped mount of Venus covered by more purple lace. You yourself realize that for a man who wants to possess you, that kind of lingerie might make you look like a neatly wrapped gift in his eyes.
“Don't stop,” he tells you hoarsely, his eyes veiled with glowing lust.
The blood leaves your veins; if he were to take you, you would already be ready to receive him. As your fingers move to get rid of your bra as well, you realize you don't find it such a disturbing idea after all, even when you finally pull down the light fabric of your panties, showing off something no boy has ever had the honor of looking at, his nostrils flaring as if to inhale something in the air, you are aroused.
“You'd better start running, little girl, I'm going to give you exactly twenty seconds head start,” his voice comes out as a guttural sound, making you widen your eyes and really run, when the door suddenly opens wide.
You don't even wonder what strange contraption he used to close or open the door without having to physically do it, you just know you are definitely in danger.
Every nook and cranny of the castle is an unknown, he owns it, he may know passages unknown to you; therefore, you always try to wander the corridors with no visible openings. A tense, animalistic roar makes you scream in terror, with spirited eyes you look down the stairs, you are close to the stairs to the hall, the door has not been locked, you just need more time, you can make it.
You sling yourself barefoot down, almost tumbling from your haste and throw yourself out, skipping the stone steps and then to the wild path, short of breath and fear dictating your decisions, you remember it took you a good twenty minutes to get to the castle, but walking the whole path is out of the question, it would be too obvious and easy, you necessarily have to lengthen the path and consequently put in more time to get away from that terrifying place.
With horror you realize that you don't know where Glenn and Claire might be at all, would he hurt them if he found them?
Of course he would.
You don't know the man, but you have noticed all too well the bestial aura around him; he is someone capable of harm, and he will harm you if you cannot escape him.
Your feet step on scattered branches on the ground and you whimper trying to ignore the pain, another roar - or maybe it's a howl? - rips through the air, mingling with the howls of the rushing wind, and you stifle an anguished cry.
Scratches open along your body, trees ravaged by bad weather and never tended seem to want to block your way in every way possible, and the darkness certainly doesn't help.
Like a wounded animal you limp aimlessly, not imagining the hunger of the ravenous beast that sneers at the scent of your blood.
You feel tired, sluggish at times, your peripheral vision somewhat obscured, an excruciating doubt makes its way into your mind. Could it be that the story of the poisoned dress was true?
But why sell it to you, how could the seller have known that your friends would take you to that castle on Halloween night?
You begin to stagger, a sharp twinge in your head stops you, it is so painful that you collapse on the icy, muddy ground.
You realize you are screwed in every sense of the word when a weight suddenly crushes you to the ground, you scream in terror and wide-eyed, trying to shake it off.
Jimin doesn't think twice about clasping you in his vigorous arms, burying his nose on your neck damp with cold sweat, the accelerated beat of your heart rumbling in his own chest, driving him to moan with need. He presses himself against your soft curves, basking in your feverish warmth despite the stormy, icy night.
“Don't hurt me,” you shake your head with your eyes closed, trying to fight the unusual fatigue to plead with him, "Please, I was wrong, forgive me...I won't come back here again, I swear," the boy snorts against your flustered skin.
He reluctantly lifts himself up to allow you to turn toward him, you find some strength to open your eyelids wide, being invested by his sometimes divine appearance. His eyes, no longer as black as you thought they were, are tinged with an extraordinary shade of gold, he watches you from receptive pupils as you notice the grin on his mouth, a mouth larger than you remembered. There is something strange, not human, about him now. And despite the run he must have made to keep up with you, he doesn't have the slightest hint of fatigue in his breath, he's as fucking fresh as a newly bloomed rose.
“You're dying, little girl,” he hums, shaking some hair off your forehead, you lose a beat at the sight of long claws where once there were short, well-manicured nails.
The claw grazes your skin unhurriedly, you feel it scratch without hurting, you anxiously lick your lips closing your eyes, you are so sleepy that you even willingly accept your fate, Jimin snorts through his nose, almost laughing, before lowering himself onto your jugular.
It would be really easy for him to sink his canines into your flesh and bite your throat to rip it out, but fortunately for you he is not a vampire. All he wants is to sink his cock into your pussy and make you cum repeatedly, but if you died it would be hard to put his plan into action. He wants you alive and receptive.
He licks a long streak of saliva onto your delicate neck, heedless of the dirt that has stuck to your skin, before gently biting you. Your reaction is immediate, you start sobbing like a puppy at the feel of his fangs penetrating your flesh, you cling to his shoulders trying to move him weakly from you, and you kick awkwardly with your legs, legs that are locked in a vice grip by his. That way it is easy to feel something hard and heavy pressing against your belly, you try not to think about it as the man seems inebriated by the taste of your blood flowing straight down his throat.
The bitter taste of the poison is revolting, but fortunately your blood has such sweet notes that it counterbalances that horrendous taste in a balanced way, here, now he just has to lick your wound thoroughly. He collects the last rivulets of your blood with his tongue, before dripping his saliva into the tiny holes created by his sharp canines, little holes that begin to close with light smoke, cauterizing the wound and partly removing the poison toxins from your blood.
With no longer a grip on your throat, your head falls limply back to the ground, you gasp trying to fight off the shock of such an experience.
“Mpf!” his tongue invades your mouth treacherously, the taste of your blood making you squeal on his lips, so unfairly soft and pleasant to the touch. The hot and unusually long muscle pushes into your oral cavity eagerly, saving your life has as if awakened the more primal side of Jimin, one of the seven lords who unleashed hell in Howl's town. And the mating ritual has begun, but you cannot know this.
You break free by gasping for air, “W-why?” you stutter breathlessly, “You don't even know me!” you cry as you drive your nails into his forearms, triggering in return a reaction of possession in him, prompting him to grab your thighs and lift them onto his shoulders to your profound horror, he is so wild as he spreads your legs wide open to sink his face in between them that you can't utter a single breath.
As he runs his tongue along your pulsing, hot folds, Jimin realizes with nastiness that during your escape you got wet for him, he had smelled your arousal as he pursued you, on some people the quickened heartbeat has that effect, but the sweet and slightly salty taste of your juices are now a definitive proof for him. And you can't deny it, you love how he teases you by slowly sliding around your swollen clit, plays with it by holding it between his lips and then releasing it after sucking hard, almost biting it. He tortures it by pricking it quickly with the tip of his tongue and then returns to lapping your thick juices from the soft slit, which seems to melt every time that devilish tongue penetrates it, managing to lick and stimulate walls that a normal tongue could never reach.
You shyly move your pelvis against his face, your thighs stained with your arousal tremble against his cheeks, and a terrible heat makes you pant desperately. The man abandons your slit to push himself again against your unbearably sensitive folds, they are so moist that you can hear the noise they make every time that cursed tongue stimulates them to push a few millimeters toward your clitoris, never reaching to touch it.
“God!” you curse, suddenly reaching out an arm to grab his hair, not recognizing yourself when you desperately push him against your pussy, longing for the pleasure he was spoiling you with at first.
His arousal makes him grunt like a wounded animal as he sinks into your core with languid, sensual movements, rewraps your desperate clit with his lips and tongue before continuing with more direct, zigzagging movements, crushing it at times with the flat part of his tongue and then flicking it with the tip soon after. He would never stop kissing and licking you like that, his tensed cock vibrating each time he eats you up a little more, delightedly swallowing your juices, enjoying retrieving them each time they flow between your wide-open, rosy thighs. A clearer, liquid substance squirts slightly out of your slit, causing you to shake around his head, you clench your lower lip between your teeth with tears sliding down your flushed cheeks, you are instigating Jimin to pleasurably hurt you, and the funniest thing is that you don't even notice.
Finishing licking some of that shiny, transparent substance from your inner thigh, the boy moves up your body, biting slowly at the flesh of your belly and then higher and higher to the softness of your breasts, titillating a turgid nipple before pulling it between his lips.
“W-What are you doing to me?” you gasp, wishing he would never stop adoring and cuddling your body, why? Just moments before you were running from his clutches, why are you lifting your pelvis now, inviting him to take you as if you've been waiting for this all your life?
“Are you just...” he murmurs, before kissing your chin with his devilish lips, "Responding to your desire" he kisses your mouth again, an electric sensation forcing you to comply, chasing his tongue with yours, collapsing to the spicy taste that is now all over his mouth, your taste.
With half-closed eyes you realize that the dark lines of ink are moving, taking the shape of a wolf watching you, you have no way to comprehend the unsettling sensation that invades you. The man, with one hand pressed against your bare back, forces you to turn away without you having any say in the matter, you find yourself with your face to the ground and the wind blowing down your back, shivering under his fiery, golden eyes, your legs trembling from the effort to keep you on your hands and knees, fighting the sweet pain pulsing in your naked pussy.
“Now hold still, little girl,” he murmurs in your ear in a husky voice, sensuously pumping his cock with one hand, swollen veins pushing against his palm, which squeezes along the entire shaft to the base, then back to the thick tip from which he is already dripping his thick cum, "I need to get all the venom out of your pretty little body, am I right?" he sneers, positioning himself at your entrance.
You open your eyes wide, panic stifled by arousal, but it's still there nonetheless, clenching your fingers between the grass and damp earth, rubbing your knees against pebbles that make you moan in pain. The length of his cock begins to push against your slit, forcing it open for him, a choked cry leaves your throat, feeling your walls that, despite their wetness, struggle to let him in.
“You're still so tight,” hisses the man unfamiliar to you, "I must spoil you some more, huh?" he chuckles, sliding his hand between your legs, using his index finger to stimulate your throbbing bud, you gasp arching your back and raising your buttocks toward the man, who takes the opportunity to plunge his cock another inch into your entrance, which throbs and squeezes him rhythmically, almost making him lose control of the situation.
The sensation of the claw grazing your folds each time he presses and massages your swollen clitoris brings you almost to the edge, you feel a wild sexual desire, something you never experienced even during your teenage years, a crucial period of sexual development.
“Go ahead, please!” you exclaim breathlessly, pressing your forehead against the ground, every single millimeter that moves inside you without really penetrating you is like torture, your index finger moving languidly, and you're going fucking crazy.
“Are you really begging?” he teases you, you grit your teeth until it hurts, but finally you give in.
“Please... fill me, take me!”
“Do you want it?” he asks again, pulling the tip almost completely out, the only part he had managed to get in, you clench your legs desperately trying to recover what your intimacy has lost.
“Yes! I want it! I want your cock, I want it to fill me all the way, and I want it now!” you growl with an anger that burns under your skin, looking at him from behind, his face is an emotionless mask, but his eyes...oh, those never lie, you read the fire of desire in them, he's suffering that anticipation as much as you are. Bastard.
“You begged for it so well, little girl... I'll just have to satisfy you,” the cavernous tone clashes with his appearance, but it anticipates what happens next and leaves you breathless, abandoning your contracted clitoris he grips your hips tightly, almost penetrating your delicate flesh with his claws, pushing himself into you with a vigorous thrust, instantly breaking the thin membrane at your entrance, effortlessly. The burning that follows makes your eyes water, your body instinctively trying to escape the man's savage assault, suddenly realizing that you have lost your virginity that way, out in the open, sweaty and dirty, just like an animal.
The man on top of you hisses and makes strange deep sounds, inebriated by the sensation of his throbbing cock finally and completely squeezed between your trembling walls, trying to adjust to the abnormal size. You gasp whimpering, moving your pelvis trying to disentangle yourself from the overgrip, his claws are hurting you, but he doesn't seem to want to let go, not now that he is buried so deep.
With a grunt he thrusts out slightly, watching as your pussy instinctively clings to him, as your thick juices and virginal blood wet his entire length, lubricating him. Leaning toward you, he lets a long trickle of saliva fall back between your buttocks, slipping between them reaches the point where you are joined. He thrusts back into you forcefully, striking deeper and deeper, and you feel every detail of his cock penetrating you and thrusting higher and higher, touching points so delicate and sensitive that you howl meekly, like a she-wolf offering her whole self to her mate, the pain has been replaced by the need to be possessed, you move against his pubes with urgency, the thread of pleasure is getting thinner and thinner, you feel incredibly wet, practically soaked, and the sounds of your union are so obscene that you are shamefully aroused. Your walls flutter drunkenly with pleasure, at one point with the thick, red tip he manages to hit the entrance to your cervix with precision, you stiffen whimpering breathlessly, and Jimin collapses on top of you, continuing to move his hips tirelessly and with spellbinding sinuosity.
You take it so well that it is impossible for him not to want to have you again and again, throwing back his head to be hit by the moonlight that increases his desire, his pupils widen and he feels his testicles clench with urgency as the base of his cock swells, making him shake all over. Without a second thought, he begins to enter you with deeper and longer thrusts so that his whole cock sinks into you without any more constriction, he hears you panting and crying and this only causes him joy, you are completely abandoned to him and your sensations.
You're about to come, you're not so ignorant that you don't know what's happening to your body, you've even heard of intense orgasms, but this... god, this is going to be devastating, you know very well. It's nothing like the ones you had with masturbation, this one is deeper, snaking through your lower belly and you feel it in your uterus. You stiffen all over, trying to block the erection that keeps pinning you down between hard, sensual thrusts, every time it touches your cervix you risk going crazy.
“Don't stop me, little girl... It's here, isn't it?” he gasps at you, slamming into you once more, high up between the entrance of your uterus and another sensitive area that makes your clitoris and walls tear with intense pleasure, your toes curl and you can't help but nod desperately, "Alright, love," he replies without even realizing it, kissing your bare, sweaty shoulder, his knot is almost complete, but he wants you to come before he gives you his cum.
He teases a sensitive, turgid nipple with the tip of a claw as he reaches the point of your union, massaging your folds to help you come, though with a hint of naughtiness he doesn't dare touch your clitoris, he wants you to orgasm on your own, knowing that the intensity then will be greater and you will collapse weak and distraught in his arms.
“Oh, fuck-!” you widen your eyes, being hit by a pressing and beautiful sensation of jouissance, sucking him furiously into you amid tremors and searing waves of pleasure, the same clear liquid as before leaks from your slit, this time in a greater quantity, causing Jimin to grunt as he is run over by your jet, slamming into you almost brutally, streams of his cum fiercely fill your core, as if to mark you for life, and finally his knot swells completely, locking him inside you.
Although immobilized, he cannot stop coming, his testicles quivering violently, and only one thing could quell his aching desire. With his eyes now almost completely encompassed by the black pupil, he pushes your hair away from your neck, exposing your previously tortured skin.
“Why does this go on?” you ask feverishly, confused by the enormous weight widening your walls and locking his big cock into you.
“Sssh” he rubs the tip of his nose against you, making you shudder, "Just wait a little longer" his words are followed by an excruciating twinge, his grown canines penetrating like blades into your skin and sinking into your flesh amidst your shocked and submissive screams, your body surrendering to his force, instinctively submitting and waiting for him to finish marking.
Jimin loves blood, your blood, it pleasantly bathes his tongue with its density and sweetness, he moans with need as he loses himself in your scent, instinct commands him to move his hips once more, even though you are both locked together, with a weak moan you take in the last strings of his cum, resting possessively in your belly, you feel heavy and unbearably full, but at least he seems to be finished, you feel him relax as he once again licks the holes left by his teeth, healing them. He looks like a wolf cleaning up after his mate after mating.
“What are you?” you ask wearily, by now surrendering to the idea that the man cannot be a mere human, that probably everything he has told you, from the poison-soaked dress to the deal with the town, is real.
“Jimin” you hear him grunt at such a low frequency that if you hadn't been alone, you probably wouldn't have heard him. You snort weakly.
“I asked you what you are, not your name,” you murmur, the strange, heavy weight preventing you from moving, hissing as Jimin moves awkwardly between your legs, putting you in a more comfortable situation, letting you rest against his chest lethargically, occasionally kissing the back of your neck and licking your neck, or behind your ear.
You'd be lying if you said you didn't like all that attention; you feel a delicious bite around your heart as you cling to his embrace, protected from the evening chill.
You don't know exactly how long you spend like this, maybe forty minutes, maybe an hour, the fact is that finally that thing between your legs seems to melt away, making you sigh almost strangely.
Jimin gently untangles himself from you, leaving your warm shelter slowly and with a feeling of emptiness that stuns you, your legs finally relax and you try to move them to regain some mobility, you feel his cum pushing to come out and two of his fingers enter you, plugging your entrance. No claws, you notice as he slowly turns you around.
You hiss at the burning, your knees are completely ruined, but Jimin begins to sprinkle them with kisses and saliva, the man is back between your thighs again, you can see his long, wild hair shining as he licks and sucks your skin from time to time, all the way to his fingers, he moves them slowly inside you and you twitch involuntarily, closing your eyes at the warmth of his tongue licking a thick streak of cum and juices dripping roughly from you, pushing it down to your hypersensitive clitoris and you moaning in pain.
“Don't do it,” you gasp, closing your legs tightly, but he doesn't give up, grabbing your chin between two fingers and forcing your mouth wide open, your heart faltering with a strange emotion, you let him spit all his creamy load into your mouth, running along your tongue with a surprised cry.
“Swallow,” he orders with a gleam of interest in his eyes.
You do as he tells you, wanting to please him in every way possible, accepting him back into your mouth for a slow, intimate kiss. It is also dominant and sweet, intense.
“I'm Jimin, a werewolf and also one of the masters of the castle,” he explains pushing you against his bare chest, you hug him back as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be there, clasped to him on a bed of dry leaves, "You are my mate, it's no accident that you were chosen ... being a virgin at your age is unusual for humans, but not for us wolves, you waited for me," he emphasizes with fire in his eyes.
“But ... my friends?” you can't help but ask, which makes him chuckle.
“My people have learned to be among humans, they recognized you by scent and led you to me at the right time, they are fine,” he informs you with a caress, “In fact, you should worry about yourself,” he says with a note of reproach.
“H-How?” fear advances again.
“I've waited too many years for your birth, little girl... it's time to repay the wait,” he hums as something hot and hard returns against your belly.
“Jimin, wai-!” too late, the tip of his cock captures your entrance again, this time with more ease and the next thrust has you writhing against him with tears in your eyes, “Oh, shit!”
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© 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲𝐙𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐢 -  𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. || 𝐔𝐧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝/𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝.
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pure-smut · 4 months ago
Text
inexperienced.
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featuring: Itadori Yuji x f!reader
contains: first time s*x, friends to lovers, cunnilingus, mildly dom!yuji, virgin!yuji x virgin!reader
note: all characters are over 18!
MDNI | 18+ content
word count: 2.7k
masterlist
a/n: I adapted a story I'd already written bc re-reading it made me realise it's perfect for Yuji lol
Itadori Yuji and you were always the subject of the “will they, won’t they” debate in high school – as if you couldn’t be friends with someone of the opposite sex without wanting to fuck them. The truth is, you’d always viewed Yuji completely platonically. He’s easy to be with, makes you laugh, and you have way more in common than any of our other friends. You're even going to the same university.
The night of your graduation party, you're both tipsy at some guy’s house party and giggling in the corner while you watch a boy in your year helplessly flirt with the head cheerleader.
“Bless him,” you say. “He’s trying his best.”
“Can’t blame the guy for giving it a shot – it’s more than some people do,” Yuji agrees, leaning with his back against the wall.
“Yeah, it’s better than endlessly pining.”
He casts you a sidelong look but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he takes a long swig of his beer.
“You got your eye on anyone tonight?” he asks, changing the topic. You shake your head.
“Nope. I’ve fully accepted that I'm going to graduate a virgin.”
“Yeah, we’re both going to suck at college with no experience.”
“It’s a bit easier for me, I think,” you say, shrugging. “Blowjobs aren’t hard.”
“How would you know?” Yuji laughs.
“I just know!” A hint of defensiveness crawls into your voice. “Anyway, you’ve got the harder job. D’you even know where the clit is?”
Yuji’s cheeks go pink and you think you might have gone too far. You open your mouth to apologise but he interrupts you before you can.
“Are you offering to help?”
You stare at him for a long moment, not quite registering what he’s said. He’s wearing an easy grin but his hands are shaking as he takes a sip from his beer. To be frank, you’ve never entertained the thought of anything romantic or sexual with Yuji, despite all the peer pressure. He’s just Yuji to you. Not a potential boyfriend or even one-night stand.
But then your mind begins to whir, seriously considering him for the first time. You think of losing your virginity in college to someone you haven’t even known that long. Someone you might not trust fully. Maybe even someone who you find out, too late, is an asshole and the memory of your first time becomes tainted.
And then there’s the experience part – you don’t really want to go into college a virgin. You don’t want to fumble around in the dark, unsure of yourself. You want to go in a fully-realised woman, a sexy one who knows what she’s doing.
You’ve been quiet for too long because Yuji shoots you a worried glance and clears his throat awkwardly.
“Listen, I was just joking-”
“I think we should do it.”
The words fall out of your mouth before you can stop them. Yuji’s eyebrows shoot up and he freezes, the tips of his ears turning pink.
“R-really?” he stammers out, his previous grin wiped off his face.
“Yeah. I mean, for practice. Before we go to college, right?”
“Practice what?”
“I guess… all of it?”
You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard and he shifts uncomfortably on the spot. You suddenly realise you’ve gone too far.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Yuji. You were just kidding around and I took it too seriously.” You avert your eyes, cheeking burning. “You can ignore me.”
“No, no, you didn’t.” He leans in close and lowers his voice. “I just didn’t think you were going to say yes.”
“Oh.” You get a waft of his aftershave – something dark and sweet. “So, you were being serious?”
“Yeah.”
You look at each other, pressed together in the throng of the party, and you’re suddenly finding it hard to breathe.
“We… we can’t do it now, obviously,” you say, breaking eye contact. “We’re drunk. And stupid.”
“Yeah. Of course.” Yuji shifts awkwardly again. You glance down and spot the bulge in his jeans.
“Wha… You have a boner?”
“Keep your voice down! Yeah, the thought of getting a blowjob gives me a boner, shoot me.” He rolls his eyes. You trail your eyes over him.
“Is it the thought of getting a blowjob or the thought of getting one from me, specifically?” you ask.
He presses his lips together and rubs the back of his neck.
“You,” he mumbles.
“Sorry, what was that?”
“From you,” he says between gritted teeth. You smirk.
“Why, Yuji, you didn’t realise I had that effect on you,” you say, batting your eyelashes. Secretly, a thrill runs through your chest. He groans and puts his beer down.
“I’m leaving before your head gets too big to fit through the door.”
He turns away but you grab his hand and he glances back at you.
“Come round to mine tomorrow night. My parents are out,” you tell him. It’s only two sentences but they’re so loaded with possibility that your throat goes dry. Yuji licks his lips and nods, once, before exiting.
*
As soon as your parents leave, you’re in panic mode.
Yuji texts to say he’ll be around in an hour so you take a hot shower and carefully shave everywhere below the neck. You have one pair of lingerie you own, bought more out of curiosity than with a goal of wearing it for anyone, so you put it on. It’s black and lacy and slightly uncomfortable but as soon as you look in the mirror, it’s like you see a different person. A woman. Sophisticated and sexy. Your heart sets off at a gallop as you throw a silky dressing gown over the top of it and wait for Yuji.
He arrives an hour later on the dot. You jump up from your bed when he texts to say he’s outside and scurry down the stairs, a ball of nervous energy. You open the door and watch his jaw drop.
“Jesus,” he exclaims, even though he can’t see the lingerie yet. You drag him inside before any of the neighbours see.
“It’s no big deal,” you say even though your heart is thumping so loud you’re pretty sure he can hear it.
“You look… fuck…” he breathes.
“I look fuck?”
“No, you-” He stops when he sees you’re grinning at him. He smiles back and shakes his head. “You look amazing.”
“Thanks.” It’s not the first time he’s complimented you before but usually it’s a “Oh, you look nice” or something. This feels different and heat crawls up your neck. Yuji clears his throat.
“So, you still want to…?”
“Practice? Yeah.” You gesture up to your room even though he’s been to your bedroom hundreds of times before.
We head up in silence, the tension so thick in the air it feels like treacle. You sit side by side on the bed and you gnaw at your thumbnail, not sure where to go from here.
“I think… this is really awkward,” Yuji says and your stomach drops.
“Have you changed your mind?”
“No, not at all,” he says quickly and half-turns to you. “But I think we’re, like, forcing it a bit too much?”
“Yeah.” You chew your bottom lip. “You’re probably right. What should we do?”
He glances at the rest of the bed before snaking his hand around your waist.
“Here,” he says and lays back, pulling you next to him. “Let’s just cuddle for now.”
You draw a relieved breath and lay draped over him, your cheek pressed against his chest and your leg slotted between his thighs. You’ve been physically close before, like when you fell asleep on his shoulder while you watched a movie, but you’ve never… cuddled. You realise you like it. You wrap your arm around his toned stomach and pull yourself in closer. Yuji chuckles, his breath ruffling your hair.
“You cosy?”
“Mhmm. How come you never told me how cosy you were?”
“Top secret information,” he replies, his hand resting on your waist.
This is nice, you think. Deep down, something inside you wants it to happen again. You feel yourself relax against him, warm and firm.
“Hey,” Yuji whispers and you look up.
His mouth catches yours softly. You melt into it as his hand cups your face and his lips part yours. His mouth tastes of mint. You run your tongue across his. Fuck, has he always been great at kissing? He tilts his head slightly and you instinctively turn in the opposite direction, your mouths fitting together perfectly. He catches your bottom lip between his teeth and you moan into his mouth.
Something presses against your thigh and you realise he’s hard. An animalistic urge to touch and suck it overtakes you and your hand shoots down to his crotch.
“Wait,” he says, slightly breathless. You pull back, confused. “I’ll tell you when.”
“Okay,” you reply, still confused, but there’s a command in his voice that you can’t ignore. Warmth unspools between your legs at the new gruffness in his voice and the lust in his eyes that you inspired.
“I want to touch you first,” Yuji says before pressing his mouth against yours again.
His hand travels down to untie your dressing gown, flinging it open and exposing your lingerie-clad body to him. You automatically go to cover yourself up but he grasps your wrist, not hard but enough to stop you.
“Leave it,” he says, so you do.
His kiss is still soft but his hands become rougher as he pushes down under the cup of your bra and kneads your breast. No one’s ever touched you there before and you feel like sparks are running through your body. He pinches your nipple and your clit throbs in response. His mouth leaves yours to kiss his way down your neck before closing around your nipple. Pushing gently on your shoulder, he puts you on your back, still sucking.
“Yuji,” you say. “I want to touch you.”
“Not yet.” He repositions himself so he’s laying over you, nudging your knees apart to make space for him between your legs.
“But-”
“Only when I say,” he orders you and you pout.
Yuji only smirks in response and moves further down, planting soft, slow kisses along your stomach as he goes. You get a brief moment of insecurity over what your body looks like, what he must see, but Yuji grabs your hips and holds you in a way that makes all those thoughts disappear.
You expect him to slide off your panties but instead, he pulls them to the side, exposing your bare pussy beneath. You inhale sharply as the cold air hits you, open and vulnerable for the first time. Yuji doesn’t hesitate, running the flat of his tongue deftly across your pussy lips.
“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, your hips bucking.
You keep your legs spread for him as he moves up to suck gently on your clit. His finger finds your entrance, slick with your arousal, and begins to push in. You’ve fingered yourself before, of course, but it never felt like this. Yuji’s finger is thick and he curves it upwards slightly until the pad of his fingertip grazes against something deep inside you. You give a low moan as pleasure shoots through your body.
He keeps up a slow, relentless pace with his tongue on your clit while he fingers you and you feel yourself opening up to him. Your orgasm builds quickly - too quickly for you to realise what’s happening. You cry out, your back arching and your hands grasping the duvet. Yuji doesn’t stop until you beg him to, your thighs shuddering around his head. When he looks up, his mouth is glistening with your juices.
“Goddamn,” he says, wiping his chin. “That was so fucking hot.”
You try to respond but you’re out of breath. Your chest heaves as he drags himself up until he’s holding himself over you. He brushes a lock of hair from your face.
“I… I need to do you too,” you say weakly, pleasure still tingling through your abdomen.
“No,” he says even as he reaches down to unbuckle his jeans. “I want to see you do that again with my cock inside you.”
You know you can tell him no, but you don’t want to. You want him inside you. You need him inside you. You look up at his face and wonder how you never felt this way before about him.
“Yes,” you say. “Fuck me. Please.”
He makes a noise from his throat, low and dark, and pulls his cock free. you have no basis for comparison but it seems thick and you’re simultaneously thrilled and terrified. Yuji pulls his t-shirt off, throwing it to the side, and you have a newfound appreciation for the firmness of his chest and the definition in his shoulders. You help him tug his jeans off until he’s completely naked on top of you, the heat radiating off him. You run a hand over his hard stomach and down to his cock, grasping it firmly. The tip is shiny with precum.
“God, you have no idea how badly I want you to suck me off.”
“Why don’t I?”
“Because I want to fuck you more.”
The head of his cock nudges against your folds, hard and hot. You’re more than wet enough for him and let your head fall back as he pushes in the first few inches. You sink your nails into his back, feeling him stretch me.
“Jesus,” he gasps. “Fuck. You feel amazing.”
You can only whimper in response, your pussy gripping him as he withdraws and hungrily pulling him back inside as he sinks even deeper. You move your hips in time with his, meeting him halfway until he’s fully buried inside you. You expected pain but there is none, only the raw pleasure from his cock rubbing against the sensitive walls of your pussy. Yuji starts to move at a steady pace, each stroke pushing you closer to another orgasm. He moves to support himself on one arm while the other plays with your tits. His fingers tease and pinch your nipples, catching you in complete ecstasy.
“Cum for me,” he growls, his eyes moving from where his slick cock is sliding in and out of you to your face. “Cum on my cock.”
You open your mouth to say something but only a lustful moan escapes. You reach back to grab the headboard, the bed rocking beneath you with the force of his fucking.
“Yuji, I…” You don’t get to finish your sentence. A tidal wave crashes over you as your pussy contracts around him in a vice-like grip. You wrap your legs closer around him, holding him to you. You buck and shudder underneath him but he doesn’t let up. It’s only when you push him back, your hands on his chest, that he slows down.
He withdraws completely, pulling his cock free and leaving you feeling empty. You reach for him but he’s already grabbing you by the hips and turning you over.
“On your knees,” he instructs, his voice thick.
You do as he says despite your head being foggy with post-orgasm bliss. You bend over, pressing your cheek against the pillow and arching your back. Yuji smooths a hand over your ass cheek before slapping it.
You yelp, feeling the sting of his handprint but you find yourself enjoying it. Your pussy drools for him, your arousal dripping down the inside of your thigh.
“This is even better than I imagined,” he breathes.
You don’t have time to register what he means before he’s lining the head of his cock up with your hole again.
This time when he presses inside you, the ridges of his cock rub against somewhere new. It’s even more electrifying and you push your hips back, wanting him to go deeper. He quickly obliges, grabbing your hips hard enough to mark you and slamming his cock inside. His balls slap off your thighs and he grunts with satisfaction. you can feel yourself getting wetter at the thought of him looking down at you, watching himself fuck you.
“I’m… I’m gonna cum,” he groans.
“Inside me. Please,” you whisper.
You hear him moan, long and loud, as his cock spasms. You feel him unleash a torrent of cum, filling you to the brim. He doesn’t withdraw straight away, catching his breath and stroking your back, but when he does, his cum spills out and down your thigh. You roll over onto your back as he collapses on the bed next to you. He gives you a lazy grin.
“Best practice ever.”
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devildomditzy · 5 months ago
Text
You’re late for your date.
Like, Late late.
And of course, if the situation were switched, you wouldn’t have minded.
In fact, you would have expected it.
But you are you and Mammon is Mammon.
So of course, his leniency for being ignored is next to zero.
He leans against the front door inside the common room of the House of Lamentation. And he looks at his watch.
4:00
4:00
You’re an hour late.
And of course, Mammon tried to play it cool at first, swiping through his D.D.D with an unimpressed look on his face. He’s cool. Nonchalant. His brothers can’t know he’s internally freaking out;
Because he’s totally not.
Of course not. No way. Not over you of all people.
But he can’t hide the jitters so graciously given to him by his nervous system.
“Are you being stood up?”, Satan calls from a nearby armchair in the room, not bothering to look up from what he’s reading.
“I ain’t being stood up! They’ll be here, they’re just…busy. Yeah, that’s it. They’re busy.”
Asmo lays upside down on the couch, scrolling on his own D.D.D.
“Of course they stood him up, they’d much rather go on a date with mwah”, he gloats from his position.
“Oi! Shut up will ya?!”, Mammon screams back, now standing rigidly, hands balled up at his side in anger, leaning into the conversation, ready to make it an argument.
As he takes another breath to get a word out, Satan cuts him off.
“Where were you going anyway?”
“Yeah, where?”, Asmo brightly echos back.
Mammon sighs, body relaxing as he slouches back into his leaning position.
“We were supposed to go to Devil Coast ‘bout an hour ago. But of course MC ain’t got a bone of urgency in their body.”
He grunts, frustratingly looking down at his D.D.D. Twenty-five messages. No replies. What was up with ya?
Asmo cackles wildly, “Maybe they forgot about you, hm?”
Mammon’s face begins to heat up with anger.
“Listen here you little-”
Satan once again cuts him off. “We all know there’s no way they’d forget about Mammon. He’s much too loud”, he says, turning his page.
“Would y’all shuddup? Jeez”, Mammon’s tone becomes lethal in a way his brothers know they should stop pushing, so they do, shooting each other concerned glances.
“Have they texted you back at all?”, questions Satan.
Mammon sighs, “No, not yet.”
He looks down at his phone, scrolling through your message thread.
2:50 PM
Mammon: Yo! Ready to go?
Mammon: I’m by the front door, I’ll be waitin’ for ya.
Mammon: Remember to bring your coat ya dummy, cause I ain’t letting’ you borrow mine this time!
Mammon: Okay
Mammon: Maybe I would let ya borrow it if you really needed it and were shivering and stuff and needed The Great Mammon’s help to warm ya up.
Mammon: But you gotta say please 😜
2:57 PM
Mammon: Alright, where are ya?
Mammon: Thought we agreed on 3:00
Mammon: Do ya need more time gettin’ ready?
Mammon: Tryin’ to look good for your first, huh?
Mammon: I’ll wait a little longer for ya.
3:10 PM
Mammon: Hurry it up, will ya?
Mammon: I understand wantin’ to look nice, but it’s ten after! Ten!
Mammon: Ya know, you’re the only human that keeps me waitin’ like this!
3:30 PM
Mammon: Okay, yer bein’ kinda ridiculous right now.
Mammon: I mean come on, ya gotta date with Mammon. THE Mammon. Ya know how lucky you are?
Mammon: Alotta people would kill to be in your position.
3:35 PM
Mammon: But of course I wouldn’t go with them. I wouldn’t go on a date with anyone but you, okay?
Mammon: That’s why you need to get yer ass down here!
3:40 PM
Mammon: You’ve got some nerve makin’ THE Mammon wait around for ya!
3:45 PM
Mammon: Whatever, isn’t like I wanted to go out with ya anyway.
Mammon: I was doin’ this for you, ya know.
Mammon: Why would I wanna be see around with some lousy human?
Mammon: What am I, yer babysitter?
3:55 PM
Mammon: Look, I didn’t mean that, alright?
Mammon: Please come down.
“Are you sure they’re not asleep?”, Satan ponders curiously.
“Nah, I don’t think so. We’ve been talkin’ about this for weeks”, Mammon says defeatedly, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.
“Are you sure they’re okay?”, Asmo asks, voice laced with concern.
“Okay?!”, Mammon shoots his attention to the avatar of lust. “Wah- what- why wouldn’t they be okay?”
Asmo looks around sheepishly, bringing his nails up to his lips to bite them, something he never does unless he’s either A) super stressed or B) covering something up.
Mammon steps towards his brother, anger beginning to boil, knowing what his mannerisms mean. “Whadda you know that I don’t?! C’mon, spill it!”
The urgency in his voice compels Asmo to speak, knowing how sensitive his brother is when it comes to you.
“Well… I promised them I wouldn’t tell you…”
“Tell me what?!”
His brother remains quiet for a moment.
“Asmo…”, Mammon threatens dangerously.
“Ugh, okay I’ll tell you”, Asmo sighs, mumbling quickly under his breath, “MC, please forgive me!”
Mammon stares at his brother impatiently as he starts,
“Well, MC came to me the other day after class. I knew something was wrong because there were tears in their beautiful eyes”, Asmo lays his hand across his forehead as if he were faint.
“Skip the dramatics and keep talkin’!”
“Okay, sheesh. So MC came to me and told me they haven’t been feeling very good lately.”
“What, are they sick or somthin’?”
“No no, nothing like that. More like, their brain feels sick? They said they don’t really know why, but they’ve been feeling bad about themselves lately - which I told them was totally ridiculous! AND I offered them a full makeover WITH facial and they denied it, but that always makes ME feel better.”
Asmo pouts before continuing, “Plus, with all the extra work Lucifer and Lord Diavolo have been giving them with the student council, they said they feel like they’re under so much pressure, they’re gonna crack soon.”
“Why ain’t they tellin’ me any of this!?”
“Because,” Asmo says annoyed, “they don’t want to upset you!”
“What? That’s ridiculous!”, exclaims Mammon.
Asmo matches his volume, “I know right?! That’s what I told them! But they said you were so excited about your date that they didn’t wanna ruin it- hey, where are you going!?”, Asmo yells as Mammon walks out of the room.
“Where’d ya think! I’m gonna go talk to MC!”, Mammon yells back.
So that’s why you weren’t there? You’ve been hurting? For awhile it seems, and you didn’t tell him?
He’s gotta admit, he’s a little hurt. But he knows this isn’t about him right now.
It’s about you.
Mammon didn’t know he would be nervous to see you until he was standing in front of your door. What if says the wrong thing and makes it worse? What if he can’t help you at all? What if he made you feel this way?
Okay. He realizes with that last one that he’s spiraling. Time to fix this.
He lifts a shaky hand to your door, knocking three times rhythmically - the one you know is his knock. And only his.
He cringes when he hears your weak voice choke out a small “come in”.
The room is dark; All the lights are out and it’d be pitch black save for the window next to your bed, illuminating your form, a shivering lump hiding under your blanket.
He lets out a sigh as he walks further in. He should have known about this. He should have been able to pick up on this. Boyfriend of the year, huh?
You sniffle as you pop your head out from under your hiding place.
“H-hey Mams”, you hiccup, giving away the tears that still stream down your face. “I-I’m sorry I ruined our date. I should have texted you, I-I just…”
Mammon walks till he’s leaning right over you, hands on his hips. “Uh-uh, I don’t care about that right now. What I do care about is you, mainly why didn’t ya tell me you were feelin’ like this before our date?”
The tone is his voice gives way to his own hurt, and you can’t help but start to cry again at the sound of it, knowing it’s your fault.
“Shh, shhh,” he quickly sits down on the bed next to you and puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a hug. “I ain’t mad at ya or anything, I just wanna know why.”
He knows why; Asmo told him. But, he wants to hear it from you.
You pull your arm out from under the blanket (and Mammon’s hold) to wipe your face. “I’m fine really, it’s just”, you sniffle, but Mammon cuts you off.
“Ya clearly not, c’mon MC”, he says, oceanic eyes meeting yours and - it’s hard not to crack under that gaze. “Tell me what’s the matter, please.”
Mammon stares at you in silence, signaling that it’s your turn to talk, and he would quietly listen. As long as you trust him, he’d always listen to whatever it is you have to say, no matter what.
You sit up a little straighter, pulling your arm out from under the comforter to wipe your tears. Composing yourself, you look into his eyes. His face softens at the sight.
Clearing your throat you start, “I don’t know. I’ve just been so overwhelmed.”
“Overwhelmed with what? All that work Lucifer and Lord Diavolo keep pushin’ on you? Tell ‘em to shove it!”
You shoot him a dangerous look. “We both know I can’t do that.”
“Sure ya can, I do it all the time!”, Mammon proudly declares, making you smile brightly and chuckle.
“And you always end up hanging from the rafters”, you laugh.
“I never said I got away with it”, he replies, smiling just as brightly back.
Your giggle peters out as you begin to speak again. “I’ve got so much more work to do and so little time to do it”, you frown. “And I’ve been pushing myself really hard! And- I dunno. I guess it’s taking a toll on me.”
“Yeah, Asmo said you were havin’ it pretty rough.”
At the mention of Asmo’s name, you shoot upwards in shock.
“He told you?!”
“Course he did. Did ya forget which ones of us you can trust with secrets?”.
You grumble in anger. “That little - UGH! I’m gonna kill him.”
“Let’s put murder on the back burner,” Mammon says, pushing your shoulder to lay you back down in your slouching position. “How’s ‘bout ya tell me what’s really bothering’ ya and I’ll help ya threaten the primadonna later, yeah?”.
You give him the side eye, but collapse under his gaze. Curse those eyes! You swear he can put you under some kind of truth spell with those things.
“Fine. I guess… it’s just… I…”
“Any day now, Treasure.”
You make an exasperated noise and glare at him. “You know it’s not fair to use that word on me when I’m upset.”
“When you’re upset at me. And yer not upset at me right now, right? Please say right”, he finishes his sentence with a sense of urgency, now worried that he could be the cause.
He’s wracking his brain for anything he could have said or done recently that made you upset. Are you mad at him cause he teased you the other day when you did your makeup differently. He told ya he only did it cause he liked it. Are you mad because he cheated off of you in potions class? Well, he’s your first, dammit! You should be helping him anyways. That’s what a loyal subject does.
“No, no it’s not you. I just haven’t been feeling very good about myself lately.”
“What! That’s ridiculous!”, he shouts and - he’s trying to be helpful in his own way, but his raising voice makes you wince. He notices, quickly shifting his tone. “I mean, what’s there not to like, doll.”
You smile to yourself at the nickname. He’s trying his hardest to be sweet. You should try your hardest to let him in on your thoughts a bit too.
“I don’t like the way I look. I’m not pretty, I’m not cool, I don’t even know what you see in me.”
“Don’t be dumb, MC!”
“Mammon, look at you! You’re you. You’re one of the seven demon lords of hell, you’re a whole model, and you’re one of the coolest guys I’ve ever met - Devildom, Human Realm, or celestial! You know you’re hot, so I’m worried…”, you trail off quietly.
“Worried bout what, MC?”, he asks at your hesitance, worry evident in his eyes. He places his hand on top of yours on the bed without breaking eye contact.
“…I’m worried that one day you’ll realize you’re too good for me and leave.”
“Leave? Whaddaya talkin’ about? How would I leave? I live here too ya know”, he says, poking your nose.
“You know what I mean, Mammon”, you say swiping his hand away from your face. “You’ll leave me.”
Mammon rolls his eyes, waving a hand towards your direction dismissively. “Oh yeah, I’ll leave you alright. That’s exactly why I was waitin’ for ya at the door for an hour to take ya on a date. Cause I wanna leave ya soooo bad. Do ya see how ridiculous you sound?”.
You sigh, eyes looking towards the bedsheets as you play with his hand that has found its way back to yours. You don’t look up as you speak. “See, I didn’t even come down for our date. Or text you. I just moped around up here. Im a terrible partner. And I’m sure you’re gonna realize it soon.”
Mammon makes a ‘tch’ noise with his tongue, before grabbing you by the chin and making you look into his eyes, making you gasp in surprise.
“And ya think I’m such a great boyfriend, huh? I’m just the best? The guy who spends his free time at the casino runnin’ up scams? The guy who used ta blame his screw ups on ya to get outta trouble? Yeah MC, I’m a real peach. Cream of the crop if ya ask me”, he lectures, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“What are you trying to say”, you question, grabbing his wrist to take his hand off your chin, to which he carefully obliges.
“I’m sayin’ that I’m not so great myself. But you still love me, right?
“Yeah, and?”
“Exactly. I’ve got flaws, we’ve all got flaws, even father had flaws, clearly”, he mumbles the last part under his breath.
“I wouldn’t stop lovin’ ya over any dumb thing like looks or status. In fact, I can’t think of a single reason why I’d stop lovin’ ya, ya dumb human. Sorry ‘boutcha luck, but yer stuck with The Great Mammon forever”, he jokes, ruffling your hair.
“What about when I die? I’m human, you’ll outlive me by a long shot. Don’t you want to be with someone, I don’t know, with the same…life span as you?”
“Nah, I’ll still love your dumbass skeleton when you’re a stupid ghost.”
“How romantic.”
“Listen. My point is I’m yours and you’re mine. That ain’t changin’, alright? And I’m not mad ‘bout our date, we’ll reschedule it. Just next time, ya could let me know before I stand by the front door for over an hour like a jackass. My brothers got enough to make fun of me over already.”
He pulls a little smile out of you with that last one.
“And about all that student council junk Lucifer and Lord Diavolo keep thrown’ on ya, I’ll talk to them. Maybe they’ll let you divide it up between all of us, alright?”.
You sniffle, wiping your face once more and shaking your head in an affirmative nod. “Sounds good. Thank you, Mams. I’m sorry.”
“C’mon now, quit yer apologizin’. It’s fine. You apologize for somethin’ like that again, I’m tellin’ Beel you ate his pudding from Madam Screams.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh, I’ll dare alright, ‘n then some”, he jokes, tackling you to the bed. “Why don’t we watch a movie or somethin’. You gotta make up the lost date time you owe me.”
You laugh at his antics, agreeing. “Okay, okay. I’m on it.”
As you sit in front of your shared DVD collection to pick tonight’s selection, you throw your voice over your shoulder.
“Hey Mams?”
“Yeah?”, he asks from his spot on your bed, scrolling on his D.D.D.
“Thanks.”
“Anytime, Treasure.”
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andillneverbethesame · 5 months ago
Text
CASUAL
❥ draco malfoy x reader
❥ warnings; oral sex, implied vaginal sex, not reread — may contain gramatical mistakes
❥ word count; 2,3k
❥ a/n; ik i should be prob writing your ts requests but i've been listening to casual by chappel roan sm lately and got idea for this fic sorry for the second smut not being written. i realized how much i don't like writing it.
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you and your dear friend daphne greengrass were seated in the slytherin's common room sofa, doing your potion's homework on the last minute.
"ugh, does snape hate us? this is an awful homework!" daphne complained with her head in her hands.
"i agree," you spoke. "this is taking forever. and i gotta meet draco in-" you checked your watch "-fifteen minutes."
daphne sighed, making you glance at her with a raised eyebrow.
"got a problem, greengrass?"
she stared at you, contemplaining on what she should say. "i think you're a loser that you're still hanging around and let him treat you like that."
daphne didn't like draco before this thing between you two even started, none of your friends did. but they hate him even more, knowing he's wiping the floor with you.
"you don't know how sweet he actually is," you tried to convince her. and a bit yourself, too.
"it's a facade."
in that moment, you could see from the corner of your eye two girls walking past you and eyeing you up and down.
"do you think it's serious between her and malfoy?" asked one the other.
"nah. nott said malfoy told him she's just a girl he bangs on his couch." answered the other.
you froze. this was so humiliating. you could only hope that those were just rumours and draco never said anything like that to theodore. you could ask nott, but you doubt he would tell you if he really heard him say that. him and draco were the best of friends.
you met daphne's look that clearly said, "i told you so."
"oh, fuck off!" you packed your things and left the common room.
draco said to meet him in the library, so that's where you were heading. on your way there, you tried your best to ignore the looks and the whispers of other people. it was a date night, after all. you were determined not to let your mood be ruind by silly things like that.
the library was quiet as always. you always thought draco asked to meet you there because it's such a calm, romantic place. plus, both you and draco loved reading so you'd spent your date time like that. however, daphne suggested a few weeks ago that the reason draco wanted to meet in the library, was the fact that there weren't much people in the evening hours, so no one would see you there. you could only hope that that wasn't the case.
you found him at his usual spot in the right back corner of the library.
but he was not alone.
he was seated at the table while pansy parkinson was sitting on the table with her legs crossed. you could see her fingers slightly lifting up her skirt, revealing her underwear. and the worst thing was: draco was looking. and by the way he smirked and licked his lips, he liked it.
rage filled your entire body but you decided to play it cool. you put on a smile and made your way over to them.
"hey, pansy," you said, still smiling brightly. "didn't expect to see you here. haven't you got a better thing to do than flirting with other girl's man?"
she rolled her eyes and got off the table. she send draco a wink and blew him a kiss before leaving.
you huffed and took a seat opposite to draco. he continued on reading his book, but as if he could feel the daggers you've been sending through his head, he lifted his gaze.
"what?" he asked, acting clueless.
"care to explain why it looked like if i didn't walk in you two would be shagging each other's brains out?"
"we wouldn't." you swore you could see his eyes crinkling. what a fucking liar. "why do you care anyway? are you jealous?"
"yeah, i am!" you admitted. "we are together. you have me. so why do you still cave other's girl attention so badly?"
he snorted. "we're not together."
you froze, feeling humiliated once again. this was so embarassing you wished you had the ability to melt into the ground. but you didn't. all you could do was stare at him for a few seconds before letting a faint "oh" leave your lips. you couldn't help it. tears started to form in the corners of your eyes.
draco saw that. "i'm sorry, baby. i told you no attachment." his arm reached over the table and placed it over yours.
"i know. you're right. i'm sorry," you apologized although you had nothing to apologize for.
draco stood up from his seat and kneeled in front of you. "it's okay, i forgive you. you're someone i couldn't lose." and then, his hands went to the sides of your face and his lips to yours. although, you were deep down still feeling angry. the feeling of his kiss made it vanish.
------------------------------------------------
"oh merlin!"
you were in draco's limousine, your legs were over the boy's shoulders and his head was between your thighs. you gripped his blonde hair. he was truly a master at this. his tongue worked perfectly on you, eating you out as if he was starved and as if he never tasted anything better.
you were sure his fingers would leave a mark from the tight hold on your outer thighs. but you didn't mind. it would be there to remind you of the best head of your life.
his tongue flicked over your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body each time he touched that one spot that caused you to see heaven. your eyes were rolled to the back of your head as your nails dugged into the skin of his shoulders. you were close to the edge despite it being only five minutes.
your glassy eyes watched him. it was truly a wonderful sight that could alone make you come. and then, his icy blue eyes met yours. and that was all you needed to fall apart under his touch.
when you finally collected yourself and draco wiped his mouth with a napkin he pulled from the back pocket of his pants, you two sat in silence with your head on his shoulder and his arm around your body. this was one of the moments you refused to believe that draco believed it was casual. him kissing the top of your head, his fingers intertwined with yours, him smiling when you drew a heart on the limousine's foggy window-
"would you like to meet my mother?"
-him asking you to meet his mother-
wait. what?
your eyes went wide as you pulled away from his embrace. "what?"
he shrugged. "my mum wants to meet you."
you raised an eyebrow and smiled. "you told your mum about me?" that was surprising. i mean, sure, you told your mum about him too, but that was different. this meant everything to you while it meant very little to nothing to draco.
"no," he shook his head and your smile dropped. "i'd bet all my money it was zabini or nott."
"oh, right. well, if you'd like me to, i'd like to meet your mum."
"great," he nodded. "i think you'd like her. i'm not so sure about my dad but. . ." he didn't finish his sentence and you didn't ask kim, knbowing how the relationship between him and lucius was.
you were about to meet his parents. was it still casual?
---------------------------------------------
you gasped at the sight of the malfoy manor. it was twice bigger than you expected. the gate opened and you two walked in to the property.
"how rich are you?" you asked him, still gaping.
"enough to never have to work for the rest of my life," he replied with a smirk.
"hm, i'd like that."
and then, your mind began on creating fantasies again. you were dumb. but you loved it. you dreamt of you and draco in a year, after you two graduate. you dreamt of living together and it didn't have to be in a manor large like this one. it could be in a room at three broomsticks. it didn't matter as long as you two were together. and then, maybe you two would be something. and he'd show you off to everyone.
you blushed at the thought. these fantasies are fatal.
draco opened the large door to the manor and you two walked in. for some reason, it was a bit colder than the outside air but you could imagine yourself spending time there.
"mother?" draco called out but there was no response. but then, an elf walked into the hallway and the boy asked him, "dobby, where are mother and father?"
"t-they are out, mr malfoy. they are taking care of some business," he replied, his voice shaking.
draco nodded, looking as if he knew what business the elf was talking about. he turned to you and said, "let's go. we'll wait in my room."
he took a hold of your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours, making fireworks explode inside of you.
his room was quite small compared to the other rooms in the manor, but it was very cozy anyway. he had the dark walls covered with posters of his favourite quidditch team and also with pictures. you took your time walking around and exploring. there were countless of photographs with him and his friends, two or three with his mother (zero with his father) and one with. . .
you.
it was a photo of you two on one of slytherin's party, before you started hooking up, you were sitting on the common's room sofa with your arm around him and his hand on your knee. you already fancied him at this point. the look in your eyes as you gazed at him couldn't be missed.
you really did love him.
you turned around, still smiling. you found him sitting on his bed so you took the advantage and began to straddle him. his head hit the matress as his hands gripped your hips. your fingers found its way to his colar, untying his tie.
"what do you say to a little fun before dinner?"
-----
"draco!" female voice echoes through the manor. "we're home! you can come downstairs!"
you two spent the last fifteen minutes in his bed, in silence.
"well, we definitely can't come down looking like this." you both were still naked, not bothering to put on your clothes just yet. your hair were a mess and your lipstick was smudged from the endless making out.
you got up to find your clothes since they were scattered everywhere across the floor.
"have you seen my bra?" you asked draco after you found your panties. you saw him holding it, expecting to give it to you. but instead of that, he send you a wink, turned around and put it in one of his drawer.
a light laugh slip passed your lips. "you dick. that's my favourite one!"
"well," he shrugge, "it's mine now, sorry."
you rolled your eyes and slipped on your maroon dress. this one was a gift from draco for your birthday.
right after that, you grabbed your clutch and walked into the bathroom to fix your appearance.
"a question," you called out to draco.
"yeah?"
"what did you say to your mum?"
"what do you mean?"
"well," you paused to put on your lipstick. "what did you tell her about us and our relationship status?"
he leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms on his chest. "what would i tell her? i didn't tell her anything."
"oh. . . then what. . . are we?"
you heard him sigh. "y/n, why do you expect another answer? we're casual. i told you that at least a hundred times."
casual.
a perfect evening ruined by one fucking word.
you were so done with this.
"casual?" you repeated, turning around to face him. "i'm about to meet your fucking parents, draco. what the fuck do you mean that we're casual? do i mean nothing more to you than an occasional shag? why, draco, why?"
"i told you, i'm not ready for a relationship," he tried to reason.
"not ready for a relationship? you like ten girlfriends before me, how can you be not ready? at least tell the truth and say you don't want to be with me."
"oh merlin." he exhaled. "you know that's not true. why are you so bitter about it?"
"i'm meeting your parents," you repeated for the second time. "you take me out on dates, you buy me an expensive dress, you even talked about a future with me in it once but then you say it's casual and you wonder why i'm bitter?"
"but i told you countless times we're not together-"
"draco!" his mother's voice called again.
"we'll be there in a minute!" he yelled. his voice sounded a bit harsher than he intented it to be. "i tell you we're not together all the time and you always say it's fine. but i can tell it's obviously not. so why are you still hanging around?"
you nodded. "you know what? you're right. i tried hard to be the calm girl that holds her tongue and gives you space, but honestly? i'm not. and i'm exhausted of pretending to be in case you change your mind one day and tell me you wanna be with me." you began to pack your things.
"wait. don't." you stopped, hoping he'll say the right things. but the next words were a dissapointment. "what do i tell my parents?"
you shrugged. "say what you tell to your friends. it's casual. so there's really no point in meeting them." you walked past him with a sweet fake smile and before he could say anything, you were out of sight.
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the-modern-typewriter · 2 months ago
Note
your writing is seriously amazing and what got me back into role-play writing! thank you! if possible could we get a human princess who attempted to outsmart a fae king and failed miserably? whether it be for power of her own, or the better good of her people and now she is to be at his side, watching the consequences of her own schemes play against her?
"You..."
"Me," the fairy king said. He sat upon her father's throne with the improper grace so common to his kind - legs dangling over one of the arms. He twirled the crown of her kingdom between his elegant fingers like it was a mere trinket.
The princess squared her shoulders.
"You tricked me," she said. "I asked you to get me out of this - this wretched marriage and you-!"
His head tilted, gaze sharpening a fraction, as she panted. His eyes seemed to glow in the dimly lit room, ever brighter with the rain pelting outside of the window, like he was the only thing that the sun still remembered.
"I'm not marrying you," she said, through gritted teeth.
"You didn't ask not to marry me," he said. "You asked not to marry Prince Calloway or any of the other silly mortal men intent on wielding your power as their own. I do not fall under either of those categories."
That was true. But she hadn't thought for a second-
"You asked," he continued relentlessly, "to rule upon your throne forever more. You never specified you would do so alone."
"It was implied."
"Implication is not a contract."
"Why would you even want to marry me!?"
"Why would you think for a second you were capable of outsmarting a fairy king?"
The princess swallowed.
His voice hadn't exactly changed, still light and breezy, but something as old and dangerous as winter lurked beneath his sunny smile.
The deal had been a simple one, a classic tale. He would save her from the stupid fate her father thought best for her, and she would give him her first-born child. Fool on him that she didn't plan on having any children no matter the lineage of her bloodline. Why would she need to do that when she planned to be the first and eternal queen of her kingdom?
"I suppose," he said, with a sigh, "it is because you are a silly, spoiled mortal, no? Incapable of coping with the one time daddy didn't cave to your whims immediately. A child throwing a temper tantrum."
"That doesn't sound like someone you want to marry."
"Oh, you'll learn. Don't worry."
Her fists clenched. "I do not need your tutelage."
"Evidence suggests otherwise."
"I'm not marrying you."
"Your father has already agreed. And you owe me a child."
"It's absurd to marry someone simply to punish them!"
"Your unhappiness is a mere bonus."
"You're insufferable!"
"Careful, beloved." The very rain outside seemed to stop for a moment, two, as the princess's heart hammered. "For a second there it seemed like you'd forgotten who exactly you were addressing."
Her mouth dried.
He was prettier than Calloway was, but it was easy to mistake him as having the same nature. A foolish prince. Some player of the court too dumb to realise when he was being manipulated, as so many of them were.
He was not that.
He was very much not that.
"I'll marry Calloway," she said, a slight quiver in her voice. Calloway, at least, could be controlled. He was a brute, an idiot, but...
"Too late. The deal is done."
"We could make another deal."
"Why would I wish to make another deal? You have nothing else that I want."
"I - but I - I'm not marrying you. I refuse."
"Then you will be in breach of contract." His head tilted the other way. "Do you know what happens to silly little mortals who breach their contract with me?"
She did, regrettably, know that much. She had read about the fae before she summoned him. She hadn't - well, she'd considered some of the lesser fairies of his court and kind, the less powerful ones, but she was a princess. She'd thought it only right that she dealt with royalty. With him.
Now...
"You've made your point," she said. Her pride burned. "Please."
"Kneel."
She'd never knelt for anyone or anything in her life. She dropped to the cool tiles, face aflame with embarrassment, fear twisting in her stomach.
"What is my point, princess?"
"I'm - you're smarter than me," she said. "I'm a fool. A silly mortal girl."
"Indeed."
"So I've learned my lesson. You don't need to do this."
"Are you sorry?"
"I'm so sorry," she said. She managed to squeeze out a few tears. "I was unforgivably rude. You have my deepest, sincerest apologies. Sire. Uh - fairy king."
"Mm." He finally adjusted his pose, no longer so careless, sitting properly, leaned forward a little to appraise her with his handsome face resting upon his hands.
"So..." She dared another glance at him, biting down on her lip. "You'll call off the deal? Write this all off as a mortal mistake?"
"Oh, not at all," he said. He flashed her a smile. "But it's always good to start a marriage as one means to go on, isn't it?"
"You!" She jerked to her feet, dashing the tears from her cheeks. She managed to stop herself from outright insulting him again as he raised a delicate eyebrow.
"Me." Flat. Simmering.
She backed up a step. Her breath caught in her throat.
Thunder rumbled on the horizon.
"You're dismissed, princess," he said, cold, bored. "After all." He straightened. "You have a wedding to prepare for, don't you?"
She really wished, later, that she hadn't asked him for forever.
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elssero · 3 months ago
Text
project partner
k.bakugo
-in which you and bakugo get paired to work on a school project together ,sfw. angst!!!!! tw no happy endings ..
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maybe you should’ve been paying more attention but your hero analytics class was so boring you genuinely couldn’t stop yourself from getting distracted.
it’s not like the view outside the window is any more interesting- at this point your just looking at anything in an attempt to drown out your teachers voice.
you catch a pair of birds on a tree outside- watching as they shuffle around each other awkwardly. god you wish you were one of those birds right now. you really hate this class.
“and yn, you’ll be partnered with uh- bakugo.”
wait what?
oh you’ve got to be kidding me.
you don’t even know what you’ve been partnered to work with him on? some sort of fake hero interview? god could your day get any worse.
you did not like bakugo. not one bit.
you didn’t like his ‘better than everyone’ attitude. you didn’t like the constant stupid scowl on his face. but most of all you didn’t like the way he spoke to your friends.
at the beginning of the year you’d made a conscious effort to befriend most of your classmates. never shying away from a conversation and offering your assistance whenever needed.
you knew what it was like to be strong, you’d always been a step ahead, seemingly excelling in everything you did. you guessed you had that in common with him.
however, what you didn’t have in common with him was his treatment of your classmates. you had never once wanted anyone too feel inferior to you, even if they were.
sure you were teasing- often joking around with many of your classmates but it was all in good faith. nothing like the actual insults bakugo often hurled at them.
you didn’t like him. not at all.
staring at aizawa with wide eyes he only gives you a shrug. you have absolutely no idea why he thought it would be a good idea to pair you and bakugo together- you’d never even spoken a word to each other in this class.
after reading out the rest of the pairings he dismisses the class, encouraging you all too make plans with your partners about scheduling time to work on the project he’d just given you, explaining you had a week to hand in two fully fledged professional looking interviews, one of your partner and of yourself with the other playing the interviewer.
you weren’t worried about your performance at something like this, being friendly and talking to people had never been a problem for you- at least not until it came to the blonde who was now making his way towards you. his signature frown on his face.
he huffs as he attempts to make himself comfortable in the seat next to you, still somehow looking incredibly uncomfortable.
you glance around at the other pairs in the room. brewing with jealousy as you see everyone already getting along- seemingly paired with someone their known to be friends with.
the boy beside you attempts to speak before you cut him off-
“okay look- i don’t want to be here any longer than i need too and i’m sure you don’t either.” you would normally grimace at the harsh tone of your voice- except it’s bakugo, so instead you continue on.
“i’ll spend tonight watching recent hero interviews too see what types of questions are currently trending, i’ll put us both together a series of questions we can ask each other.”
it’s better you do all the work, it means he can’t surprise you with some stupidly rude question. you don’t have to get along with him. you just have to do the project- get a good grade and go back to ignoring him.
“send me a copy of your schedule so i can work out a time that suits us both to film the interviews- they shouldn’t take too long, most interviews only last a little under an hour now a days.”
you don’t look at him as you speak to him, instead opting to drawing little cats in the corner of your page as you explain your plan to him.
“oh um- okay.” he pauses slightly before continuing speaking. “yeah- um i’ll send you my schedule.”
that was oddly easy? of course your glad he didn’t fight you on this, but to say you weren’t expecting at least a little challenge would be a lie.
deciding not to dwell on his weird behaviour you take this as a win- you get to dictate your entire project which is obviously what you’d rather. when the bell rings to signify the end of the day your beyond thankful to it for getting you away from the increasingly awkward silence your having with bakugo at the moment. getting up you don’t even bid him goodbye as you meet up with your friends while leaving the class to make your way to the dorms.
it’s jirou and mina you meet at the doorway- immediately accepting their invitation to join them on their walk home.
the walk isn’t long- you listen as your friends catch you up on the work they’d done with their partners during class- expressing their excitement to work on something more media based.
“so uh- how’s having bakugo as a partner?” you roll your eyes at your pink friend. it’s no secret that your not a fan of bakugo. infact you go out of way to make it very clear to your friends your feelings about the boy.
“it’s weird. he’s totally letting me do all the work- of course i’m not complaining but i thought he’d try to argue with me with at least once.” explaining how he’d acted to your friends you feel just as confused as you did in class.
“wait- you mean he didn’t argue with you once? not even a single time?” confirming minas question you keep walking. it is weird. you don’t think bakugo has ever done a paired project without being utterly horrible to whatever pour soul had been paired up with him.
“i mean are we really surprised? i can’t think of a single time he’s ever actually insulted you.” you look at your purple haired friend as she talks. she’s right.
you don’t know why, but since the beginning of first year bakugo had never once said anything mean to you. not since you’d kept up with him on the quick assessment on your first day.
it’s weird. god it’s so weird and your grateful someone else has noticed it. he’s always so mean. never thinking twice before hurling abuse at the rest of your class while he seemingly never even thinks of throwing some at you.
you rather it that way. it gives you the perfect excuse to never have to speak to him.
“wait your right…” mina currently looks deep in thought before a sly smile erupts on her face. “maybe he’s got a crush!”
you can’t help the laugh that bubbles in your chest. bakugo?? a crush?? even the idea sounds crazy. not once in your three years of being at UA had you ever heard of bakugo even being remotely interested in anything like that with anyone.
“bakugo definitely does not have a crush on me- are we sure he even has a romantic bone in his body?” jirou beside you laughs at that, a small chuckle escaping her. “it’s not the craziest explanation- maybe he’s got a soft spot.” you shoot her a kidding glare.
“don’t be silly guys. i’m sure there’s an actual reason- maybe he just can’t think of anything bad to say about me.” your thankful when the girls next to you both burst into giggles- giving you and opening to change the subject.
the idea scratches the back of your head the whole walk. you can’t stop thinking about it as you make your way into your own dorm, showering and changing before beginning to work on your project- your thirty minutes into the most recent mirko interview when you decide you need a break.
dinner. that will definitely solve your problems. your just hungry.
making your way into the kitchen your hopes of getting your mind off bakugo are immediately shut down as you see his figure behind the open fridge door.
for fucks sake.
it’s too late to turn around now. sucking it up you made your way over to one of the cupboards before taking out some bread- you’ll just make a sandwich. something quick to get you the fuck out of this kitchen.
you nearly make it out- your so close.
“so uh- how’s the project going?” your being punished. your now completely certain someone out there has something out for you.
“um yeah it’s going fine- i have your questions all written out i’m just getting started on mine.” you forced to look at him quickly when you place the bread back into the cupboard. it’s clear he’s just back from a very intense work out. the sweat in his hair makes that evident. he looks good.
what the fuck? you turn away quickly before he notices your quick stare as you pack up your food ready to take into your room.
“you did my questions first?” there’s a slight surprise in his voice as he questions you.
“uh yeah it was easier. there’s a lot more male heros so it was easier to find interview questions compared to females.” it’s a logical explanation- you miss the way his expression drops slightly when he listens to your reasoning.
“is that all your having to eat?” this is weird. is he making fun of you? no that’s not it. there’s not a mean tone in his voice- instead it’s something like concern.
“i’m not really hungry. just wanted a quick snack-“
“you should eat more.”
you need to get out of this kitchen. why is he being so nice to you? okay maybe he’s right. a sandwich is definitely not a hero course student meal but your currently far to confused and far too tired too care.
“goodnight bakugo.”
you don’t wait for his reply as you quickly make your way to the door, desperate to get away from whatever the fuck is going on right now. you debate making your way to minas room to debrief what just happened but decide against it. she’ll probably attempt to try and convince you about her stupid crush theory again and there’s absolutely no way that’s true.
the after effect of your late night hits you like a truck in the morning, after groggily getting up and forcing yourself to get ready you rush to class- nearly missing the bell while you step in only a few seconds before your teacher.
you spend the entire period in complete silence- focusing mainly on keeping yourself awake long enough to get home and go straight to sleep. your keeping your face up with your hand while it threatened to fall when you receive a note from your left.
you okay? you look like your seconds away from biting your desk. -k.b.
why on earth did he sign his initials on this stupid note as if you didn’t just watch him place it on your desk. you decide to take a minute to calm yourself so you don’t end up writing him back a mess of profanities.
you don’t even reply at all, deciding instead to crumple the note up extremely loudly before placing it in your pocket. you miss the dejected look on his face but you do hear the scoff. that bitch.
you can’t wait for the end of this stupid project, hoping that by the end of it you and bakugo will be able to go back to how you were before. he can go back to terrorising the rest of the class while you go back to ignoring him.
it’s beyond weird that he’s starting to talk to you. you assume he feels obligated because he’s your partner but you’d rather he just ignored you outwith strickly work related conversations.
your packing up for class when he nexts approaches you- placing a piece of paper in your hand as he walks by your desk.
“it’s uh- it’s my schedule.” right. you did ask him for that didn’t you? did he put this together last night? it’s extremely detailed- compiling exactly what he does everyday seven days a week, even having slots for studying and meal times.
scanning it over quickly you realise the only free time you share is saturday afternoon- tomorrow.
that works. if you get your interviews completely done during the weekend it means that this weird situation you’ve found yourself in with bakugo will be over by monday- it’s perfect infact.
“i’m free tomorrow afternoon too- i’ll meet you in the common room at 1 and we can spend a couple hours on it. hopefully we can have it done before dinner.”
“yeah um- that’s fine i’ll meet you at 1.” okay great. you take note of the fact this is the second plan you’ve made without bakugo arguing with you.
you leave the class in speed after that- wishing your friends a goodbye as you let them know you won’t be walking with them today, wishing to run straight to bed as your far too tired to spend time with them right now.
it’s hours later when you finally wake up- 7pm your clock reads. you’d really hoped that you would just have been able to sleep though the whole night- it seems the universe has other plans for you as you hear your stomach grumble. great.
your making your way down to the common room when you hear a mixture of voices from behind the wall.
“yeah it’s great- but bakugos the luckiest for sure. he’s working with yn on this and she always does well on this shit. maybe it’ll bring your hero media grade up.” it’s kaminari you hear first. your ears perk up when you listen to a mention of your name.
“yeah bakugo how is it? it’s gotta be great working with her. i’m totally jealous.” you manoeuvre quickly to hide yourself fully behind the wall now. they’ve not realised your here yet. you intend to listen fully to what they have to say about you.
“it’s alright- i guess.” you wish you could say you were surprised but alright? if he calls doing all the work for alright then you’ll never do anything for him ever again.
“come on bakugo there’s got to be more to it than that? you finally get her to talk to you yet-?” huh? what does he mean by that? finally getting you to talk to him?
“shut up shitty hair- it’s- no i haven’t!” he’s getting increasingly more frustrated as he continues.
“every time i attempt to make conversation she shuts me out completely. i- i don’t even know what im doing wrong.” his voice sounds rejected as he finishes his sentence. he’s been.. trying to talk to you?
why? it’s the first thing that crosses your mind. why after years of being in the same class- years of mutually ignoring each other why would he now make the decision he’s interested in talking to you?
you can’t listen to any more of this. forgetting all about your hunger you hastily make your way back to your dorm- attempting not to draw notice to yourself.
somehow finding yourself more tired than you were when you first made your way downstairs you flop yourself onto your bed with a confused sigh.
you just don’t get it. trying to wrack your brain for reasons why bakugo would all of a sudden decide he’s interested in you- you fail to find a logical reason.
maybe you should just sleep it off- after your interviews are done tomorrow you won’t have to speak to him ever again if your luckily. you can spend your days avoiding him during classes and in the corridors. it shouldn’t be that hard.
his friends words repeat in your mind. finally get you to talk to him? had he been interested in you for awhile? and for what?
maybe he had been looking for something to make fun of you for- it’s the only explanation you can come up with.
forging yourself to stop dreading over it you take that as your answer. bakugo katsuki is attempting to get close to you so he can find something to poke fun at you for.
you know in your mind that’s not it. even in your tired state you realise that the excuse your giving yourself isn’t the truth. however your far to exhausted- and apparently still hungry to let yourself stress over it any longer as you fall back into sleep.
your alarm wakes you up at a sharp 10am. it’s your emergency alarm for when you accidentally sleep in. fuck.
you have three hours before your supposed to meet bakugo and your already riddled with anxiety over it. waking up late forces you to miss your work out for the third day in a row- maybe you’ll be able to get one in later tonight.
opting to just start getting ready your able to take your time- an outfit choice isn’t needed, you’ll need to wear your hero costume if your doing “hero work.”
it’s 12 when you begin to start thinking about getting something to eat- your ready to leave now, your aswell heading down to the kitchen early.
your heading to your door when you get a knock, opening it expecting it to be one of your friends your shocked when you see- bakugo?
in his hand is a brown bag- the little logo of a local bakery is crumpled but you can still make it out, in the other is a coffee of some sort.
“you didn’t eat last night. picked you up something after my run.” of course he’d went on an early morning run- your almost jealous of his work ethic.
he got you breakfast? it smells good. you can’t remember the last time you went to that little bakery, you’d forgotten how much you missed it.
“how’d you know how i take my coffee?” his eyes shift to the floor at your question- nervousness clearly evident in his voice.
“i uh- i asked raccoon eyes. she said that’s always what you get.” of course he went to mina- it’s not wonder she keeps making crazy assumptions about the two of you.
you offer his a small smile when you answer him- maybe the first you’ve ever given him. “thank you bakugo.”
his eyes go wide at that- “um yeah it’s no big deal- i was getting something anyway.” did he eat it already? your foods still warm- it feels as though he ran straight here after getting it.
“you ready to go?” your snapped out of your trance when you tell him yes- picking up your bag you make your way to the training room that had been set up specifically for this project.
it looks like a real interview set- in the middle of the room is a long table with two chairs- both situated with microphones with a camera catching them both in shot.
you begin to set up straight away- bakugo insists on working on your interview first as a thanks for doing the rest of the work and you take him up on the offer, settling yourself into the seat of the interviewee as he situates himself beside you.
he looks slightly different from how he normally does- less angry, you think. he’s really gotten himself into character- dressing himself a smart-ish shirt, he’s put on his reading glasses, he looks kinda cute.
the lighting of the set is definitely doing wonders for him- you just hope it’s doing you the same justice. he coughs slightly next to you- seemingly to get your attention.
“you ready to go?” he’s looking at you patiently- urging you to take your time.
“i’m good to go- just try stay on script yeah?” your joking with him- similarly to how you would your other classmates. maybe this project isn’t so bad.
he does infact follow the script perfectly in the beginning- opening up your interview- introducing you to the “audience” as he begins the questions.
it’s the usual stuff- questions you’d answered a million times. who inspires you? why did you decide to be a hero? what type of hero do you wish to be? blah blah blah.
“if we asked your friends to describe what it’s like to be your friend- how would they describe it?” you love questions like these- you feel it gives fans a real feel for not only you as a hero- but you as a person.
“i’m hilarious- obviously. but if we’re being completely serious i’d probably describe myself as helpful? i always find joy in being able to help my friends with things their struggling with- it helps i get too tease them about it too.” you flash the “interviewer” a smile to only be met with a deadpan expression.
did you say something wrong? you thought that was a perfect answer- it paints you as a kind but funny person. what’s his problem?
“why do you do that?” his interviewer tone is gone now- seemingly given up on his part.
“do what?” your voice is laced in confusion but in reality your angry. it had been going so well up until now- no arguments, no insults- just getting the project done and now your going to have to start the whole interview all over again.
“your nothing like that- at least not to me.” he’s grumbling as he says it- looking directly at you with that same frustrated expression.
“what are you talking about.” your firm when you say it- edging him to just get to the point of whatever tangent he’s about to go on so you can get back to work.
“you-? it’s just you! your fuckin’ friends with everyone- it pisses me off.” your mouth is slightly agape- what does who your friends with have anything to do with him? you don’t reply.
“it’s just- everyone fuckin’ loves you- apparently your so fuckin’ great to everyone but i can never get that out of you-“ anger is rising in his voice as he continues- getting more and more frustrated as he keep struggling to explain how he feels.
“your always such a fuckin’ bitch to me- always ignoring me- never giving me the time of day and everything thinks m’ fuckin’ crazy because your just soo good.” your anger is suddenly matching his- your such a bitch to him?? does he have any idea about the way he treats people?
“oh that’s fucking rich coming from you- your maybe the biggest asshole i’ve ever met. no wonder i don’t wanna speak to you.” your furious- who does he think he is?? that he thinks he can dictate how you act towards people.
“what?” the tone is his voice is changed now- the anger that was there a second ago seems to have vanished- now replaced with sadness.
“and you ignore me too!- don’t act like our lack of communication is all my fault.” now it’s his turn to be in shock- he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you act like this before.
“your right bakugo- i am a bitch. i’m a bitch to you because i can’t stand you. i don’t like you, not one bit. your a horrible classmate- i can only imagine an even more horrible person just going by the way i hear you speak to people.”
you take a deep breath before you continue- finally allowing yourself to actually look at him- your vision a little blurry from anger, but you can see it clear as day- the complete expression of hurt written all over his face.
you wish you cared- you wished you maybe felt a little empathy for the boy but you don’t- you can’t. you’ve listened to the way he’s treated people for years and now that you’ve started you can’t stop.
“you don’t do it to me- i don’t know why and quite frankly i don’t care. but i hear it, i’ve heard it for years and i wont shy away from it anymore- i believe you to be a bad person bakugo, you’ll make a great hero- maybe. but that won’t change the fact i truly believe you to be a bad person.”
he still doesn’t say anything- the hurt in his face somehow even more evident as the tears threaten to spill from his eyes.
“right.”
he gets up without saying anymore more- grabbing his coat as he makes a b-line for the door- leaving you alone in this stupid interview set.
he’s such an idiot- and too think he really had a chance- of course you would see him for as he was.
he loved you- he had for years.
and you completely hated him.
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bluecrocss · 6 months ago
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Yes. You are racist. (Buckle up, this is gonna be a long one)
So approximately half a year since the premier of the Disney+ Percy Jackson show, and almost two years since the announcement of the Trio's casting, I would like to take this moment to look back at the insane, racist and anti-black backlash that was launched at Leah Sava Jeffries and a few other cast members from the PJO fandom.
I'm not concerned with the trolls who are openly racist, who resorted to racist slurs and outright threats, everyone agrees that they "took it too far". I want to talk about the rest of you, the "I'm not racist, but.." people, the "What's wrong with wanting book accuracy?" people. Just to let you know, for the unasked question... yes, yes you are.
I've noticed the Percy Jackson fandom has been lording some weird superiority complex over a certain *unnamed* fandom that has fallen out of grace due to their recently outed bigot of an author. But honestly, y'all are not much different. The amount of vitriol and anti-blackness I have seen from this fandom (beyond just bullying a 12 year old girl), y'all don't have a leg to stand on.
Below is a breakdown of the most common arguments I have seen used to justify y'alls absolutely insane bigotry. I am going to explain why none of these justify the amount of anger and vitriol y'all have sent towards Leah, Rick or any of the cast.
I am not here to argue, and this is not a democracy. I am giving you a chance for some self-reflection and to understand that this pattern of violence directed towards POC actors (mostly black women) has never been justified in the name of "book accuracy"/"comic book accuracy"/"ending forced diversity" or whatever other excuses y'all try to make up.
If you still try to justify or argue further for any of these points, I will just block you. I am not coddling you through your racism. If anyone has seen any other dumb arguments floating around that I might've missed, feel free to sound off in the comments.
She's not book accurate:
Neither is Percy, Luke, Grover, Dionysus, Poseidon, and just about every other named character.
Rick already made it clear that physical features were not the priority with casting, rather it was actors that embodied the role. So why are the biggest complaints about Annabeth and Zeus? 🤔
What? You're gonna say everyone else got backlash too? I see you trying to obscure the main issue by playing dumb 😉
See my friend, yes, there were one or two comments about how Percy's hair should be black or how Luke is supposed to be blonde, but as soon as Leah was cast, none of those actors got any significant backlash. In fact, Walker and Charlie literally have an army of fan girls at their beck and call, calling them the perfect Percy and Luke, despite neither being "Book accurate". But then again, have we not observed the pattern of White boy of the month vs WOC to hate for the year? (Yes, I know Charlie isn't white. Further adds to the irony, doesn't it).
Why include character descriptions if you won't stay true to them, you cry? Well, my dear sweet moron, see, books and TV are two different mediums. Because in literature, you can't *Literally* SEE the characters, the author has to add descriptions to paint a picture in your mind, in TV... that's not an issue. So unless the character's appearance is necessary to the plot (like Luke's scar, or Nico being Italian) the show runners can actually focus on more important things.. Like ACTING and PERSONALITY.
2. It's just not how I imagined her:
News flash, babe! ANNABETH ISN'T REAL. None of these character are. They are concepts that originated from the brain of Mr. Rick Riordan. It doesn't matter how YOU imagined her. There are millions of people who read these books that imagined her several different ways. When the creator of the character watched Leah's audition and said, 'Yes! She embodies the character I created!", your imagined version of Annabeth ceased to matter. And guess what? The books still exist... they have not been burned. Your version of Annabeth has not disappeared. Go read the books.
3. Zeus can't be black/Gods have to be Greek/*Insert Character* can't be black:
Y'all did not read the books, I swear. You have to be fake fans looking to troll atp.
The gods move based off the center of western civilization. They change their forms/environment to reflect the culture they are occupying (they did it with Rome, now they're doing it with America). The gods change forms all the time. How we see them is not their true form as a mortal would disintegrate if they were to see their true form.
America is a cultural melting pot (specifically NY where Mount Olympus is now based). If the god's choose forms that reflect the current society they inhabit, they could literally be any race (keep in mind NYC is only 33% white).
All of this is literally SPELLED OUT in the Lightning Thief.
Furthermore, if you're going to push the ethnically Greek thing... Poseidon is British with a British accent and Hermes is Latino. The only ethnically Greek actor is Dionysus (who still doesn't look book accurate). Y'all are sounding like some white supremacists because do you forget that race is a social construct?
Before the advent of the transatlantic slave trade, I can promise you that the Greeks and the Anglo-Saxons did NOT view themselves as the same people. Why are y'all not taking issue with Poseidon's actor then?
Also, Percy Jackson has canonically had a slew of explicitly black demigods since the second book (including Harriet Tubman, which I have mixed feelings about 😭), so I genuinely have no idea where some of y'all are going with this point.
4. She was our smart blonde representation:
Don't pmo. I swear to God!
White, blonde women have NEVER been excluded from Hollywood. Representation is not something you lacked. The dumb blonde stereotype was a simple branch off of a larger misogynistic "dumb woman" stereotype. It has not truly been relevant since the mid 2000s outside of childish jokes.
This iteration of Percy Jackson will probably not go beyond the first 5 books, based off pacing and the age of the actors. So here's a fun game: 5 bucks to the first person who can find me a quote in the first 5 Percy Jackson books, where Annabeth laments her insecurities about being blonde (hint: there aren't any).
Also, her blonde hair does not hold her back at Camp because she is head of the Athena Cabin who are highly respected (and guess what?), ARE ALL BLONDE!
Her insecurities about her hair color are two or three lines at most in the later books, not this fundamental, core part of her character y'all all of a sudden wanna pretend it was. And guess what, as a non-blonde black girl, I was able to read those scenes of Annabeth feeling undervalued because of her looks and relate to her even if she didn't look like me at the time.
Why all of a sudden can y'all not do that with a black Annabeth? By every metric black girls are undervalued for their intelligence in academia more than white girls are, regardless of hair color. So your little representation of a woman undervalued by her looks would still hold. Do y'all dehumanize black women so much, that you are incapable of empathizing with show!Annabeth's plight in the way I could with Book!Annabeth simply because she doesn't look exactly like you?
Your issue isn't that she isn't blonde, it's that she is NOT WHITE.
Furthermore, Becky Riordan had tweeted previously (before the show was even cast) that Annabeth never needed to be blonde (probably recalling the BS y'all put Alexandra Daddario through), so even if they cast a white Annabeth, the blonde hair was never a guarantee. the author and producers all agree that it was not a significant part of her character. It's been a non-issue since day one.
Also, stop acting like smart blondes are rare in media... If you don't go watch some Legally blonde, Iron Man (Pepper Potts), Zack and Cody (Maddie), Liv and Maddie, FMAB (Winry), Captain Marvel, She-Ra, Buffy, The boys (starlight) etc. etc., and go sit down somewhere 🙄🙄🙄 (those were literally all things I've watched recently, off the top of my head, btw 💀)
5. It's not about race, but...:
Yes it is. It was always bout race. No other actors got as much hate as Leah. Her grandmother and other family members on IG had to mute their comments because they were getting so many threats.
Alexandra Daddario had to come to her defense on Twitter. Rick had to put out an official statement on his website. This girl has endured years of psychological torment for simply having the best audition. No one else is book accurate, no one else is ethnically Greek (except Jason Mantzoukas). Walker literally has British and German ancestry.
Why was she being called racial slurs on reddit and in youtube comments?
I know what you're gonna say, "I actually had problems with the entire cast", "I actually had a bigger issue with Walker's hair color", blah blah blah. Then why aren't you in Walker's comment sections? Why are you only making your displeasure known on posts defending/advocating for Leah? Why is she always your first example of 'wrong casting"?
Well, she "looks the most different"... Look up the term "scapegoating".
"Oh, I don't agree with the harassment. I just don't like the casting." Guess what? She's already been cast. They are not going to uncast her. What do you get out of still complaining about it.
All the vitriol you're stirring about her when you complain about her on Social media, it is directing people to send her hate, even if you're not writing it directly. It's is not enough to "not agree" with the racism, it is your duty to actively prevent it. And btw, these are young gen z actors, they are active on social media. They see the edits of themselves (even comment on it) and they most likely see these little "harmless" complaints you're posting. Are your upset feelings really worth contributing to the racist dogpile on this poor girl?
6. Why couldn't they atleast give her blonde braids?:
Why should they? Y'all wanted blonde because of the "dumb blonde" trope... that doesn't apply to POC.
A blonde black girl is gonna be viewed the same as a non-blonde black girl (or at worst, someone might decide she's "ratchet" or some shit for wearing colored hair). What difference would it make?
Why shouldn't Walker dye his hair, then?
7. Annabeth has Gray eyes:
Less than 3% of the global population has "gray eyes". Even if they cast a white actor, they would've needed contacts. Her being black is not the reason Annabeth's eyes aren't gray. Simply put, it is a plot element they removed, like the whole "names have power" element, or Ares having flames for eyes, or Dionysus using his powers to grow strawberries at Camp.
That's how adaptations work. Unnecessary plot elements are cut to save time and budget. This has nothing to do with her casting. They probably also didn't want to make child actors wear contacts (not a new practice).
8. Even if Rick chose her, he was wrong/Disney is forcing him to be okay with it:
Where do I start? Rick created the character. He can't be wrong. Do y'all have no self-awareness? Death of the author has no place here, because y'all are hung up on an aspect of the character that is not relevant to her arc or development.
Y'all's justification for wanting a "book accurate" Annabeth is that she was such an inspirational and important character growing up, and yet your behavior is so in conflict with the character you claim means so much to you. You're narrow minded, dismissive of bigotry and injustice, and disrespectful to the wishes of the creator of your favorite character; everything that Annabeth would never be. Y'all were never genuine fans of the books. You're bigots that needed an outlet for your rage.
Keep in mind, Rick has said countless times that PercaBeth directly mirrors his relationship with his wife. Y'all think he would have allowed them to cast someone who doesn't live up to the woman who has been by his side for decades? The mother of his children?
Regarding Disney forcing him, show me one piece of direct evidence that proves Disney in anyway pressured Rick to cast her. Cuz if you can't, that's baseless speculation. And if you have to resort to baseless speculation, maybe try to examine why it's so important to you to hold on to this belief.
9. So, I'm racist because I hate "race swapping"?:
To start, there is a difference between "race swapping" and "color blind casting". Often times, when y'all complain about the former, you're actually mad about the latter.
It would be "race swapping" if Rick and the team decided ahead of time that they wanted a black Annabeth and ONLY allowed black actors to audition. But the actual reality was that they accepted auditions from everyone (there were white actors and non-black poc that also auditioned for the role) and chose the best person who embodied the role. They didn't "make Annabeth black" and they didn't "make Zeus black", they cast black actors for those roles.
Y'all think you're being slick with your wording. Dismissing that is implying that they did not earn their roles fair and square. Which is racist. It's the equivalent of going up to a black college student and telling them they only got in because of affirmative action. You're dismissing the achievements of a person solely because of their racial background.
For all you people complaining about "unfairness" and "forced diversity", I would think hiring based on merit would appeal to you 🤔
71% of theatrical Hollywood leads were white in 2024 in comparison to 29% POC and you still think "black washing" is a thing? You still get this angry over a black person fairly earning a role because you think in a time where Hollywood only knows to do remakes and adaptations, that the majority of lead roles still *have* to be reserved for white actors?
Once again, white people have never been excluded from Hollywood for being white. Representation has never been something you lacked nor is it something you can lose. Your anger comes from seeing a black face where you think they don't belong. Because you feel you are owed a disproportion of representation in Hollywood.
10. Woke agenda/DEI/Forced Diversity:
If you are unironically using any of these terms in a negative light, it's already too late for me to reason with you. Look up the term "dog whistle". If you are sharing the same terminology with Elon Musk and his fanboys, maybe reevaluate some things.
POC are objectively underrepresented and have been historically excluded through actual laws and policies in Hollywood. There is no such thing as "forced diversity", you have bought in to a right wing conspiracy theory.
"Woke" is a term that was intentionally appropriated from the black community. It originally meant being aware of injustice and systematic threats to the community and is now being weaponized by bigots. Good job.
Diversity and inclusion is a good thing.
11. But POC deserve to have their own stories told:
We do. And we have been fighting for it for over a century now, and we've made great strides, no thanks to y'all.
No thanks to y'all gaslighting us about how little representation we get or that representation matters at all. No thanks to y'all pushing the idea that POC can't sell globally and obscuring POC actors in international promos. No thanks to y'all continuing to whitewash even to this day (Bullet train, the beguiled, gods of Egypt, atla, every portrayal of Jesus ever, etc.). No thanks to y'all calling every piece of media that has more than one black lead and more than one queer couple "woke". No thanks to y'all throwing a fit every time a black person in a fantasy setting isn't a slave.
Fact of the matter is, y'all never cared about POC "getting their own stories", you're only parroting our own words back to us now as a politically correct way of saying, "leave white roles alone" lmao
Well fun fact, actors of color getting opportunities to play lead roles and allowing poc to "tell their own stories" are not mutually exclusive. If y'all cared that much, instead of bullying a 12 year old actress, you could actually support up and coming independent POC writers, directors, and studios 😱
12. Studios need to stop "setting up" actors of color:
Do me a favor and google the term DARVO.
Your racism is not the fault of the studios for giving a POC actor a role that they earned. It is not up to the rest of society to tiptoe around racists to avoid their vitriol. It is our responsibility to hold them accountable and protect minorities from unwarranted hate. At most, you can say it's the responsibility of the studios to provide adequate support to POC actors who face this backlash.
At the end of the day, Hollywood only allows very few spots for POC actors (especially WOC), while simultaneously pushing a new white boy every month to put in everything. Putting minorities in these roles that are usually closed to them, usually opens the door to more actors of color than before.
Brandy being cast as Cinderella did a lot to push her into the mainstream (yes, she was already extremely famous in the black community atp), Halle Berry being the first, black, bond girl literally shot her to icon status, and even going as far back to what Anna Mae Wong did for Asian American actresses with her "femme fatale" roles.
At the end of the day, even with the backlash, *some* rep does more good for POC actors than *no* rep. The solution to racist backlash isn't to take away those opportunities, but rather to not be racist??? 🙄
Also, for everyone that claims that "POC race-swapping" is just as bad as "white-washing", despite white washing having a longer history and objectively causing more harm, note how the backlash to white washing never lasts as long as the harassment that POC get.
Like, no one brings up Scarlett Johansson's ghost in the shell role anymore, but you can best believe Candace Patton is still fending off racist trolls. As much as people hated the atla movie, people moved on quick from Nicola Peltz playing Katara since she was just a kid that accepted the role (re: daddy bought her the role), but y'all would not have any of that consideration for Leah Sava Jeffries.
But I digress...
13. What if we made Tiana white? Wakanda white? Hazel white...:
Ah, my favorite inane point. I was so excited to get here :)
See, I could start out by pointing out how "White washing" and casting a POC actor as a traditionally white character are not equivalent.
I could point out the history of hollywood ACTIVELY excluding POC actors and POC stories. I could point out how grossly over represented white people are in hollywood. I could point out that POC characters are so few in comparison that whitewashing them causes actual harm, where white people have never lacked rep.
I could point out how, because poc characters and stories are so often tokenized that their racial/cultural background is often directly tied to their character's identity, in opposition to a lot of white characters, since hollywood treats white as the "Default".
See, I could make all those points, but the thing is, the people who make this argument already know all that. They are trying to waste time by drawing me into a pointless circular argument that will sum up to "fair is fair", while ignoring all the context and nuance I previously provided.
So you know what? Forget it. Let me play your game.
I am actually fine with a white Tiana. Would it make sense, for her and her family to experience Jim Crow era racism, in the south while white? No. But we can look past it. Disney was never known for historical accuracy anyway 🤷🏿‍♀️
However, in exchange, the live action frozen will have a black Elsa and Anna, live action Rapunzel will be black, live action Merida will be black, we're re-filming Cinderella and Beauty and the beast to cast a black belle and Cindy, snow white will need to be recast as black, and we also get aurora whenever the live action sleeping beauty is announced. But then y'all can keep Tiana, deal?
You want a white T'Challa? Fine! (I'm partial to Ryan gosling), in the meantime, we'll be recasting Iron man, Captain America (Steve version), Bruce banner, Thor, Loki, hawk eye, black widow, ant man, captain marvel, Bucky, Peter Parker etc. All the avengers and their side characters, then y'all can have Sam Wilson, war machine and the whole of Wakanda (will it make sense that a sole, hidden, African nation is randomly made up of white people? Who cares? We get the avengers!).
You want white Hazel? You got her! I hope you have no problem with us taking Percy, Nico, Will, Poseidon, Jason, calypso, Rachel, Tyson, Silena, the stoll brothers, Sally Jackson, Hades, Hepheastus, ares, etc. But y'all can have Hazel and Beckendorf.
If we're gonna do this, let's commit all the way. Fair is fair, after all.
14. Leah isn't as "pretty" as Book Annabeth/Movie Annabeth:
I wish I could say this wasn't a genuine point I had read, but when all else fails, they will always go for a woman's appearance.
Now first of all, as a rule, I will never hold black women to white beauty standards. Our hair will never be long and silky enough, our nose will never be narrow enough, our skin will never be fair enough and our eyes will never be light enough (Might I recommend Toni Morrison, when you get the chance?). But Leah is unfairly gorgeous idc what any of you say, and you're not gonna have me use my defense of Leah as an opportunity to bash Alexandra either because she is also beautiful. These two queens slayed to the best of their abilities within this toxic ass fandom.
I find it funny, however, that so many of you harped on the "blonde" issue because you thought it was important that Annabeth be seen beyond just her looks, but quickly devolve to bashing an actress's looks when it comes to why she's not right for this role 🤔
I would also like to sincerely apologize that the 13 year old girl they cast in the show, wasn't as sexually attractive to you as the 24 year old woman they cast in the movie and sexualized through like 25% of her screen time (I'm actually not sorry. You're very weird if this is an actual point for you).
15. I don't agree with sending hate to the actor, but she's just not right for the role:
Once again, what are you doing by complaining about her casting on no other basis than her race?
The creator of the character said she embodied the role. She has already been cast, and Disney would be in a legal/production hell to recast her atp. Just because you're not directly leaving comments on her social media doesn't mean you're not part of the hate mob.
No matter how you look at it, your issues with her casting come from a very entitled and narrow-minded place. When you join in on these dialogues you are bolstering a sentiment that pushes more people to harass this teenage girl. When you leave these "harmless" complaints, on show content, fan posts or posts defending her, she's liable to read them because the cast regularly interact with fans online.
What do you have to say that is so important that it trumps protecting a young girl from the long-staying trauma of racism, of being told she doesn't deserve something she worked for because of how she was born?
16. I can't even criticize the show without being called racist:
Get. Over. Yourself.
Y'all are not the victim. Have fans of the show gotten protective of Leah and the young cast? Yes.
With good reason. This fandom is unbearably toxic.
Racism outweighs your need for a "perfect adaptation", sorry.
If you explain yourself properly and keep your critiques fair (like, even I don't think this was a perfect season, and will be sharing my thoughts shortly), no one is gonna call you racist.
You're preempting with that because in all honesty, you're probably planning to use your "critiques" of the show to pivot to one of the many points that I just outlined, and you want to pre-empt the criticism.
If a black Annabeth is the end all be all for you, just don't watch the show, no one's holding a gun to your head. Geez.
17. I'm Black/POC and I don't agree...:
Hey, Candace Owens... No one gives a shit.
First of all, for all the "I'm POC and I don't agree" people, you don't speak for us. Anti-blackness is rampant in just about every culture globally. You being not-white doesn't somehow make you less prone to hating black people.
But for the "I'm black and I don't agree" leftovers (assuming you're not just a 👩🏼‍💻 behind a keyboard). Black people are not a monolith. You're not obligated to think a certain way because you're black.
But consider why you're putting yourself up as a barrier to protect this hate mob. It's one thing to just state why you don't like Leah's casting, but to start off your spiel with "I'm actually black" as a way to weaponize the very identity politics you're critiquing... very strange. Not to mention, what are you defending?
The black community is coming together to defend one of our own, a kid who has been receiving death threats since she was 12, and this is when you feel the need to back the opposition?
I mean whatever... sometimes the house slaves would snitch to the master. There will always be some of y'all in the woodwork. It is what it is.
But when the exact ideology you defend is turned against you, when a Baltimore elected official is being accused of getting his job through "DEI", when conservatives are claiming that they wouldn't "trust a black pilot", don't decide that's where you'll finally draw your line in the sand.
All that being said, This is my Annabeth:
May every tongue that rose against Leah Sava Jeffries Shrivel and die in 2025 🙏🏿 My girl will keep winning ❤️
(video by @/waleahhasmyheart on TikTok)
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neil-gaiman · 11 months ago
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Hello Mr Neil Gaiman, I write to say you have ruined me; again. Four times in my life I have been utterly and hopelessly rotted and ruined and consumed by your work. First was when I was 4 and first watched Coraline, I didn't even know who you were and couldn't conceive it either way back then; but I remember watching the movie so much until the disc scratched, and making my mum buy me a coraline doll and lalaloopsy dolls that reminded me of it. Then when I was 12, when season one of good omens came out, and I immediately found out it was a book (WHAT?? IT'S A BOOK?? I NEED TO READ IT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE-)(I read it), and it was all I could find myself speaking about for months. This year when season 2 came out, I was absolutely heartbroken, and this altered my brain in a way I had never even dreamed possible; everything clicked that the common denominator in making me go insane was *you*, so I followed you on tumblr and everywhere I could and I made it my life's mission to read more of your books. First, as soon as I could, I read The Neil Gaiman Reader in two days and it was SO GOOD (and returned it to the library as soon as I finished), and I knew instantly I had to get The Ocean At The End Of The Lane. Only trouble is, where I live has basically no books, of anyone's, ever, so I searched probably five different bookshops until I found it and I immediately got it. I wasn't allowed to read it till Christmas though. Then Christmas day came, the day I had hyped up in my head for so long, simply because I got to read this book, so in one sitting on Christmas, I read the ocean at the end of the lane. I think I have found a new obsession to occupy my brain. How do you write all of these things? How do you inspire these feelings? I feel like you have a kind of magic to you. I have spent basically the whole day since googling everything I can about this novel (and hoping, wishing and praying that the play will return and come to Western Australia some day), but now I have the VERY URGENT request of answering my questions please please please pretty please. 1) What are some things you wish people knew about The Ocean At The End Of The Lane that they don't know already? 2)What are questions that you want people to ask about it, but haven't yet? 3) Where did you get all of the magic and emotion and EVERYTHING encapsulated those pages? - Yours sincerely, an extremely obsessed high school senior.
Dear E.O.H.S.S.
I'm really happy it had that effect on you. Now we both have to hope that the National Theatre adaptation of The Ocean at the End of the Lane gets revived and makes it to Australia, because most of your questions are sort of answered in the play.
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jayladfanpage · 4 months ago
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Saw a post saying that Cassandra Cain would hate Jason Todd and I'm sorry but. Are we talking about the same Cass Cain? Are we?
I understand the sentiment of "Cass would be outraged by Jason's morals" (when we're talking New Earth, at least,) that makes sense. I do think she would hate his ideals. Not Jason himself, though.
Cassandra knows death. Literally the thing that motivates her to be a hero is that, because of her ability to read body language, she experienced death after her first kill. She didn't just watch that man die, she died with him. She knows exactly what Jason felt like when he died, she knows how much it fundamentally changes somebody. I think she wouldn't understand how Jason changed for the worse, but she, out of everyone in the Bats, would actually, genuinely be able to see the boy Jason used to be when looking at Red Hood without separating Hood and Robin in her mind. Your death isn't something you ever forget.
Also, not only does she know the pain Jason went through when he died, she knows the grief Bruce went through, and is still going through when she finds out about Jason's death.
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Obviously, everyone loves this scene (Batgirl (2000) #7) because it perfectly encapsulates both Cass' and Bruce's ideas of what makes a vigilante/hero. But there's a second layer to this, which is that Cass, who speaks in body language, feels Bruce's grief. In this scene, Cass isn't just shocked to learn that a Robin died, she's mourning Jason just as much as Bruce is. She can feel all of his regrets, all of his pain, all of his guilt. Cassandra would never be able to look at Red Hood without remembering what Bruce felt, what she felt, when he died.
Lastly, while Cass' morals aren't as much about "second chances" as Bruce's morals are, she is still desperate to save people. And Jason's main thing is that Bruce (and Dick, I'll make a meta post about Brothers in Blood at some point) can't save him. Saving Jason Todd goes directly against Bruce and Cassandra's morals, but another thing that Bruce and Cass have in common is how unwilling they are to give up. Everybody will be saved, or they'll both die trying to make it so. "Everybody" includes Jason, who's always worn his heart on his sleeve, who most likely wouldn't even try to hide his emotions/body language from Cass, because he never bothers to hide his pain, is always begging to be saved, just in a way that Batman can't fix. Jason doesn't just need help, he wants it. So Cass would never hate him, because she sees that Jason wants to be fixed, wants to change the man that he is, but feels like he can't do that until Joker dies, as seen here:
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(Urban Legends (2020) #6)
And I think Cass would see that and would do everything she could to save Jason from himself without killing Joker. She could never hate Jason, not when she so fundamentally understands him and his struggle to believe he could ever be a good person. She knows his guilt doesn't absolve him just like her guilt doesn't absolve her, but Bruce gave her a chance to be a hero when he saw that she'd changed, became a better person. And I think she would go her entire life trying to give Jason the chance to change, too.
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