#and then i cleaned my room in a ‘my mind says no but my body says yes’ kinda thing. sadge

[borathae]

Red Shirt | JJK x f.Reader

↳ Full Art

“Jungkook tries to sneak away after last night, unaware that you have been watching him all this time.”

Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Morning After!AU, Magic!AU, Smut

Warnings: nudity, messy bodies after messy sex, Kook is a fucking flirt & tease, she takes pictures of him, allusions to: rough & passionate sex, pegging, breeding with fake cum, vaginal sex, creampies, marking & bruises, naked cuddling

Wordcount: 1k

a/n: patreon stresses me out so much omfg 😭 BUT here is another lil short story to one of my art ohohoh ❤ if you want to support me on patreon, i will love you forever (my dream is to one day only live off my art & writing jdsfjj)

���Come back to bed“, you say, sitting up to trail your boyfriend with your eyes as the latter hurries through the room.

“You know I want to, but I can’t”, Jungkook tells you and scans his eyes over the floor in search for his briefs.

He woke up earlier than you. The sun had barely passed the distant mountains and you hugged him to your chest when he did.

It is a regular thing that Jungkook wakes up in your arms as your little spoon. Jungkook doesn’t need to hold something as he sleeps, while you do. He doesn’t mind when you roll over in your sleep and pull him against your chest. He liked it this morning especially.

You were rough last night. Jungkook wanted you to. The wet, creamy reminder of it still oozed out of Jungkook as he sat up after waking up. It seeped deep into your rose-coloured satin sheets, joining all the other stains you and he painted last night. The once purple and pink marks on Jungkook’s body healed over night, but Jungkook still remembers all the spots they covered. It tingles when he brushes his fingers over them.

Jungkook liked waking up as your little spoon this morning. He liked feeling your bared, silken skin against his equally as bared skin. He liked the tickling swirls of breath dancing over the nape of his neck and he liked the sensation of your soft cunt against his ass. You and he didn’t clean up last night because you are both into feeling the sex on your skins the morning after, so Jungkook woke up to your messy cunt pressed against his sticky ass.

Jungkook liked it and he would have stayed in your arms if he didn’t have responsibilities today.

“Why can’t you stay? It’s too early to leave”, you bargain, missing his touch. The worst part about mornings with him, is when he has to leave and you have to make do with the solitude which once he filled. Just as you filled him last night. And then he did you. Fuck, last night was so messy and passionate.

Jungkook bends down to pick up his briefs, “I promised Yoongi to help with the Rippers. I can’t let him down”, he argues and straightens up. His torn apart briefs hang on his pointer finger in messy shreds.

You eye them and press your legs together. It smears the mess all over your thighs.

“Really?” Jungkook says with a chuckle on his lips, “couldn’t you have gone easy on them?”

“No.”

“You’re unbelievable”, Jungkook chuckles and shakes his head. “Ever since you learned how to use your magic to get stronger, you’re a maniac”, he says with fondness in his voice. He discards the torn briefs on the floor and snatches his jeans. He steps into them and pulls them up, stuffing his cock into them.

“So this is your best solution? No underwear?” you ask, lifting your right brow in question.

“I’m already late and running back to my wing takes too much time”, Jungkook says and turns to hurry to where you discarded his red button up. It was right after you pushed him into your bedroom and told him that you will have him arching his back later, which turned out to be true.

You drop into the sheets with a loud sigh, rubbing your hand over your own forehead.

“You aren’t making it easier for me when you leave like this.”

“I know. It’s not my preferred way either, but I’m late.”

“You know that I wasn’t speaking of uncomfortable pants”, you say as you laugh breathily.

Jungkook chuckles, “I’m aware.”

You sit up again. The sun is shining into your bedroom, illuminating your boyfriend’s fit stature temptingly well. Bright spots of lights cover his chest and parts of his sculpted abs, dark shadows blend into the colours and hide his tattoos in slight mystery. His jeans are still open enough to reveal his shaft and parts of his balls to your eyes. His dark hair hangs messily, matching in colour with his thick bush. You reach for your film camera and snap a picture as Jungkook is putting on his shirt.

The latter lifts his head at the sound of the shutter, watching you lower the camera again.

“For me”, you say, giving Jungkook a playful grin.

Jungkook lets out a fond scoff and closes his shirt, “you’re too obsessed with me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are”, Jungkook says and stuffs the shirt into his tight jeans.

“Even if I was, is that a problem?”

“Yeah, a little”, Jungkook says, closing the buttons of his jeans.

“Why?” you laugh as you ask the question.

“Because…” Jungkook closes the distance between you and him. He takes your face between his fingers and tilts your head up.

You moan softly, looking up at Jungkook with slight submission in your adoring eyes.

Jungkook traces your lips, “…it makes me wanna act up”, he rasps and kisses you.

You mewl, pulling him closer by a bundle of his red shirt. You arch your back, parting your lips so Jungkook could claim what will always be his’.

Jungkook, however, doesn’t deepen the kiss, breaking it with a gentle bite to your lower lip. It tingles.

“Kook…please…” you sigh, chasing him with an arch of your back and your thighs rubbing together.

“It’ll get late today. Try not to think of me too much”, Jungkook whispers and brushes his thumb over your parted lips. Seconds later he is gone, leaving you with nothing but stained sheets, ripped briefs and the memory of how it was to be buried in his willing ass.

[sukioyakio]

Part-one Part-two

Coolboyfriend!Sukuna x Losergirlfriend!reader

an: sorry i took long with this one,i got super busy with stuff,but ive been working on the request these past days.I hope yall enjoy this.

please forgive any mistakes.

Wordcount:4,887

You wanted to do something nice for your boyfriend today but You were stressing over what to do for him.But it had to be something special that was for sure.

When he left for work, you went to use your very intelligent brain and do research on dates. And the one that seem the least expensive ahem—a date setting inside your home.

So with a wide girn you were ready. But you needed to have food as well as a decorated table.

So, making steak and some mac and cheese sounds fine. And Plus it something your more familiar with cooking mac and cheese and somewhat steak.

And,two it your not Gordon Ramsay that cooks five star meals effortlessly. Nope let not go there.

But Maybe one day

You check the clock and you had a roughly around 5 hours to get the ingredients.Because your man got an early leave today.

My man

Sounds werid to the tounge but it feels right though.

So walking to the nearest grocery store wouldnt be such a big deal for you.

Right . .

OH HELL NO!- in fact today just had to be fucking 80 degrees outside with little or no wind. Without sukuna you realize how MUCH of help he was;because people were fricking ruthless in transportations.

But even worse at a grocery stores,at least—At the one you were at but damn these people were acting as if another golden tickets from Charle and the chocolate factory were alive!

But thank god you got all the ingredients to make the mac and cheese and the steak. You mentally check that off your list.

Just from walking back from the store had your entire back sweat like an athlete.

‘God Why MUST it be so hot!’ You yelled out in your head.As you continued walking with your grocery bag.

The sun was unrelenting, with the temperature reaching a scorching eighty degrees in the blazing mid-summer heat.

You went from enthusiastic to tried real quick.

When you made it home,all you really wanted to do was take a cold shower and relax.

“relaxing, yea and a nice cold shower and gaming and-“

‘NO we Are not going to lack off now’ your mind screamed at you.As you sighs putting down the supplies at the table.

As you look at the living room and clearly see how much cleaning need to do. You sipe off the sweat and got back together to make this happen.

Your arm got into the ever nuke and crevices of the leaving room and kitchen floor dirty floor and making sure it look spotless.As your nose was not making it any better.

You kept sneezing and better yet,your glasses went falling down onto the floor.

“STOP FUCKING SNEEZING!”as You roared out loud as you rub furiously at your nose.Begging for your body to have at least a few minutes of relief from your running,stuffy nose.

After 2 hours, you cleaned everything out,and did the decorations. Which would probably scared any of decorator at your creation.

Because you put one of your black bed sheet as one of those table cloth covers and you use duct tape to hide the huge fabric that was seen under the table.

And as a bonus point you used one of your favorite lava lamp as a substitute for a candle. The brightest one ever for your hubby sukuna. You snickered thinking of his reaction.

You took a step back and analyze your creation and honestly it look like a cult meeting,but one hell of a romantic cult meeting if you were to say so for yourself.

Simply nodding to yourself.

All done you check how much time you have left. You have roughly about three hours left to cook. THANK god time was with you and your dedication.

And cooking couldn’t be hard after all youtube short made it look easy.Especially the all of these mac and cheese recipe.

Since your intelligent brain picks out the pre-shredded cheese already so you didn’t have to worry about doing all the prep for it.

Yea that was like the number one thing that was told not to do, but Hey it ain’t going to come out bad.

Right?. . .

But one must do what one has to do. And that fucking give up -never mind you push through and boiled the pasta already.That was a one check mark.Now you just needed to blend that cheese sauce.

You threw out the pasta water. And pour the cooked pasta in the pot again- just the pasta no water in there. You hope. .

Afterwards you put the already seasoned sauce into a pot as you mix all the ingredients that was told to do,which was fairly easy. Because who would fuck up some simple steps.

After the mixing for a few minutes you saw the cheese mix smoothly and then the sauce and the smell smelled heavenly.

You gave yourself a small pat at the back. ‘Yeah ut look good!’ As you Nodding with a sly smirk.

Now looking back at the recipe it said to continue to mix for a roughly about five minutes longer,and so you did that but it slowly turned burnt. And why is it sticky to the pot and more rough.

Uhhh- is this’ sweat of nervousness appear.

Is this Tina Belcher’s mac and cheese?

No. No, this was an insult to mac and cheese experts.definitely not you

You inhaled deeply. Exhaled. Closed your eyes

Ok - ok this isnt bad like other people burning the house down, or smoking the whole place. Yea definitely…

No- no! This is better that time,yeah!

You sallows a big glup, already panicking inside.

Then—you do like what any reasonable person in this situation would do.

You grabbed your phone and Googled: “how to fix gritty cheese sauce before I actually started to cry.”

And from guessing what was The first result was gonna say? “Don’t use pre-shredded cheese.”

You threw your head back with a groan; grumbling as you yelled.“I know that google,THANK YOU.”

But then—a miracle appeared.

A lone, hopeful comment buried deep in a forum. A wise internet stranger said:

“Add more milk. Low heat. Stir like your life depends on it.”you eyes are filled with hope. As You squinted at the screen.

“Alright, cheese sauce.You and me.One last round time.your the opps of mines.” You grinned at the shimmer of hope. your eyes only slimmer more with joy at the comment.

With renewed determination, you poured in way too much milk, lowered the heat, and stirred with the desperation of a person who refused to be defeated by dairy.

And slowly… the sauce started to fix itself.

It smoothed out. The clumps disappeared. The burnt part wasn’t… too noticeable if you didn’t think about it.You decided to add more seasoning to it,so you couldn’t just taste the milk.

It was edible.And that? That was enough.

You wiped your forehead like you had just returned from battle. And did a happy dance,because why not.

As you went back to doing the finished work, layering the mac and cheese in an oven pan.

First mac and cheese then mac and the cheese and then repeat until the pan was covered with the cheese.You had already set the oven temperature and now just putting the wonderful god send into the oven.

‘NOW IT THE STEAK TIME’ your mind screamed with pride.Pitting the other dishes into the sink.Seeing the sink made you groan out loud in disgust and pure terror of having to do it.

Just staring at them made you stubborn to do it,but they were gonna be done eventually. .

So you remove your focus on that to the getting a pan for the steaks.

Bending down,as you push back your glasses.Getting the pan out of the cabinet and placing it onto the oven tops. Using your feet to close the cabinet door. multitasking as you place the steak on to the pan.

then the sizzle started and it slowly started to cook the steak.

It was then you realized that you didn't season it and so you quickly sprinkle some spices on the steak.

Now you stood in front of the stove, standing awkwardly as the silence was filled with the sound of steak sizzling.

‘Maybe i should go take a shower and put something nice. . . ‘ you pause before considering.

‘Nuh i have like a hour to do all that’ you mumble underneath your breath.

As you got inpatient and turn up the heat,to now hear loud sizzling sound from the pan. You tried to flip it with the pan as if your at the same level as fucking Gordon Ramsay.

The plan was to use the oil to cook the sides but seems like the oil wants to fight with you. Oh no not fight but bring war to you.

“AHH WHAT THE FUCK!OW!OW” You scream in pain as you snatched your hand back.Holding it like it was a baby.You quickly kiss it like how your mama would.cardling it into your chest. Whimpering in pain.

‘omg pls dont show a burn mark or it will show with the dress -i cant loss my only huzz at this ass cooking’ you mumbled.

As you look at the oil sprinkling out of the pan.

A loud gulp echoes throughout the kitchen. intentionally glaring at the oils that literally cooking your steak like a villain would do to a hero.

‘Yea no,let get gloves on’You blankly said in unison with your thoughts. As you searched through the cabinet for some glove.

After a few more second of searching you found it. And now your prepared yourself for the hit oil.You take a deep breath that probably fog up your glasses up after you instantly drove in and turn off the Oven top.

Flip the streak to see .. . Such a beautiful color of dark brown.

As your hope for this meal to taste good wasnt looking so good. But Hey at the steak isnt raw.

Like the last time. . .

Now placing the steak in two place and covering it with another plate to keep it warm. And place it on the table.

You rush to grab your phone to use that you have one hour left. And that hour was use to go take a shower and get dressed nicely.

————— Walking up stairs to the apartment,as each steps he took echoes throughout the stairwell.As he opened to the according door that had his apartment floor number. He was glad that his (and yours) apartment was near the stairs.

As he stops infront of the door getting his keys,almost robotic.He’s fucking tried.He had to fucking sit down on and deal with fucking youngsters who thought they could deal with the pain of a tattoo’s. Cramping his neck and hands.

Because they wouldn’t stop moving.He shakes his head.

‘I would finally get to relax’ he says as he opens the door,staring down at the ground and taking his shoes off. And then place his backpack on the mini table near the door entrance.

What he immediately noticed was the delicious smell flowing throughout the leaving room.It was alarming for him because knowing you.As he closed the door.

“Im here . . .” Sukuna announced in the darkness. In a tried voice. Face furrowed down in confusion.

The room is dark,having him staring hard but he knew his home like the back of his head.

‘It fucking dark here,and quiet as fuck’ he thought,as his face turned into a frown. He sighed hard with exhaustion. He really doesn’t have the energy for your poo-a-boo ass try to scare him challenge.

As he walks a few steps in into the leaving room.

You were behind the counter of the kitchen,you wanted to see his face. (As if you could see him clearly from how dark it was)

But it like your stupid wish come true,because almost immediately his crimson eyes turned into your direction.

Your body jerks up,as fears creeping into your skin.Sukuna literally has such a killer face,almost deadly. ‘Can HE SEE ME??’ Your mind screamed.

You take a peak out to see sukuna is still standing. Your body relaxes just a bit.

It like this man is some ninja.

You closed your eyes regretting this scared attack of your. FUCK this man can be scary as crap.And decided enough of playing around. You were about to turn off but his deep voice echoed through the room like someone yelling in a cave.

“Boo . .” His hot breath came from behind you. Your body jumps out its own skin,as you turned already to see a set of red eyes glowing in the dark.

“AHHH!! WHAT THE FUCK!!” You screamed with a gasp.As you hold your chest,from bursting out in fear.And the other holding the counter.

“How!-What?! You were just there-You scared the living shit out of me!Kuna!” You rapidly announced,with your breath losing it oxygen it needs. As you move your head around to see where red pairs of eyes were.

“Hm” Sukuna say in a unbothered voice.As he walks towards the light switch,wanting to see you clearly then the darkness.

‘This man had to be a ninja or something!’ You mumbled. Then your eyes wince from the sudden switch of color. You blink for a few more seconds.As a short realization come to you.HE TURNED ON THE Light!

“WAIT!!”You shout at him. Who was standing there with an empty expression.As you clearly feel his intense glaze. Making your cheeks flare up.

“What women?!” Sukuna barks back with a questioning expression.His arms crossed. Eye focused on you,looking up and down.he wont lie that he completely memorized by the dress.The way it made you glow in a way he never see you in.It grabs all the right places,even your little tummy-

“WAIT I DIDNT WANT YOU TO SEE ME YET !!” You shouted once more as you covered your dress like it would covered everything. After saying that you fricking wanted to verbally screamed at how cringey that was. Your eyes twitched.

“What women!!?” He shouts back to you again,his tone hold no anger.Seeing your face with a weird expression. Then shaking your head.You were one confusing and complexing person he knows.

But that what makes him like about you.

You shyly twisted your hands.Awkward laugh sip out your lips.As you glance up. “I -i wanted to surprise you-So Close your eyes!” You demanded in a soft tone. Making him roll his eyes.

He huff out in annoyance. “You made the food?” He asked with a little head tilt. Just for you to respond. “No..” you grumble. This man can’t even do a simple thing.

“Then did you order it?” He questioned again with his red eyes glowing with amusement. As you wanted to verbally choke him,the dress is so tight on you,and the food is going to get cold.

“No” You answer with an attitude. “Then what,women” Sukuna respond.

You groans out loud,annoyed. “Yes-no,god just close your eyes!!” You shouted,as you drag your hands down your face.

Sukuna lips pull up in a smirk as he already knew the answer by how much dishes they were in the sink.

“Alright,women” he says as he closes his eyes. Making you sigh in relief.

‘This man doesn’t make my life any easier with trying to surprise him’ you said in your mind.

“Wait there okay!” You exclaimed out loud.As you walked into the kitchen that to grab the two plate.And bringing it to the beautiful design table.And taking off the lava lamp. To show its beautiful cult looking table.

As you walked back to grab sukuna.You paused for a moment to pull down the dress Because it kept getting sucked and making stuff uncomfortable.

“How long are you going to take,women” sukuna grumble,as you huff out back. As you grab him softly,taking him to the table. “Okay when i say open your eyes you open them okay??!” You said with a overwhelming joy.

“1”

“2”

“3-“ “-Im not some fucking kid women”He grumbled with scoff. As you mimicked his words. “You could Open them now!” You shouts with a smile,striking a pose.

His red eyes opened,as it blinks for a seconds to recognize where the fuck was he looking at.

“Ta da!!”A glowing shine of a wide smile plastered on your lips.Your voice and face was the very opposite of what the rest of your date looked like.

“Why the lava lamp,women when there literal fucking candles in the spare closet” Sukuna replies bluntly.As he pinched his nose. The idea of you doing this for him was a nice feeling in his heart instead of annoyance.(that a lie)

“No matter! Jezz you are a party surprise worst nightmare” you Your cheerful voice echoed throughout the house. A glowing shine of a wide smile plastered on your lips.Your voice and face was the very opposite of what the rest of your date looked like.

He huff out,his red orbs staring at your eyes then glancing away.

“you must have been worked yourself . . . thanks” you couldnt help to lift an eyebrow at his comment making you only staring at him with a big smirk on your face.

Sukuna blush as he cover his face with his palm. Grunting as you tiptoeing to lean more into him “no,nonononon REPEAT yourself sukuna~~~ i want to hear it again louder!”

you sing it out in an teasing tone.Putting your hands on your hips. Sukuna eyes twitched in annoyance “shut the fuck up.punk before i go to sleep”

you gasp at his comment.

“Oh hell no!i cant have you do that” You shake your head.As you drag him into his seat, his whole body is stiff but goes along your way but it like his lips has it mind of it own-pulling up into a sly smile when your around.

He’s stomach filling with up butterfly at your presence. At a weirdo and a loser. His loser;the same girl that has him listening to your podcast long sessions of game theories. And the one that loves that talking and explaining every book that you read.

That has him playing games with you just to lose against him.That has the smartest brain cells to explain him something as simple as a biology textbook.

That what makes his cruel and grumpy heart beat for your love.

Now looking at his food you made for him,grabbing his fork and spooning some of both of the food.

The steak is kinda burnt but decent . The macaroni is cheesy but… good.He nodded slightly in amusement. Eyes close as he enjoyed the flavoring touching his tongue.

But that compliment dry out when you had spoken in the comfortable silence.

“Have you ever thought that I could have put some rat poison or poison in it? ”you hummed peacefully.Pushing your glass up. The glow of the lava lamp was shimmering your dress and face like star.

You gleamed at him with innocence staring him down like a hawk.As you continue to eat your plate of food like what you had said wasn’t concerning.

He’s eyes side eyed you and bluntly said “no” loooking back as you laughed loudly almost coughing hard. Sukuna stern,rolling his eyes.Huffing a laugh at your dumb actions.

“Dumbass” he mutters.

You heard it, and looked offended. “and what MADE you think i didn’t?!?” You asked genuinely as you contince to chuck another stake down your throat.

Sukuna stare blankly like it was a dumb question. Staring at you up and down,shaking his head.

Before saying “Because women, your not the type of person to even kill anyone. I mean look at you-you literally started to reenact an anime fight scene.” He says with a straight face his voice casual. As you listened to him,and your cheeks flush with embarrassment.As you thought he was done but nope.

“And then wanted me to help you with making the fight noises . . . So no” he finished,his face staring at you with an obvious expression.

You object.

“H-Hey!! I could kill . . Oka-AND THAT WAS LIKE ONE FRICKING TIME SUKUNA!!” You admitted with a face full of embarrassment.As Sukuna raised his eyebrow in disbelief at your words.You continued on with your glance away from sukuna eyes and into your hands that were rubbing against each other.

“Plus i wanted to reenact it since y-you didn’t want to cosplay with me . . You little asshole” you resorted with a weak tone. As you knowing damn well it hasn’t been only one time.It was many-maybe plenty when you’re bored. But to be honest,your boyfriend is always lying in bed scrolling doing nothing.

And asking the man- holy shit. That was the real pain.But it was the funniest thing we had did that night.

Sukuna took another bite of the mac and cheese, chewing slowly. His red eyes flickered from the plate to you, and then back to the plate again.

You were watching him like a hawk, nervously playing with the hem of your dress. “Soooo… how is it?” You tried to sound casual, but the anticipation was killing you.Putting your glasses more firmly onto your nose bridge.

He swallowed, licked his lips, and let out a deep sigh, setting the fork down. His face was unreadable. Then—

“It’s edible.”

Your jaw dropped. “EDIBLE?! That’s all you have to say?!”

He snorted, clearly amused. “What, you want me to start crying tears of joy? Women, it’s food. You want a gold star?”

You threw your hands in the air. “I SLAVED AWAY IN THIS KITCHEN, SUKUNA! ALMOST DIED FROM OIL ATTACKS! I FOUGHT FOR MY LIFE AGAINST THAT CHEESE SAUCE! AND ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY IS ‘EDIBLE’?!”

Sukuna leaned back in his chair, watching you with a lazy smirk. “First of all, don’t yell at me like you’re on a reality cooking show. Second,” he took another bite, “the mac and cheese is good. Steak is a little burnt, but it’s fine.”

You squinted at him. “…Is that your version of a compliment?”

“Take it or leave it, nerd.”

You grumbled under your breath but still felt a little triumphant. He didn’t hate it. That was a win in your book.

He kept eating, glancing at you occasionally. “Why’d you even go through all this trouble anyway?”

You shifted in your seat, suddenly feeling a little awkward. “I dunno… I just wanted to do something nice for you. You’ve been working a lot, and I figured… you deserved a nice night.”

He blinked, then looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.His ears turning a red color “Tch. Dumbass.”

A slow smirk crept onto your lips. “Oh my god. You’re blushing.”

“I’m NOT.” He barks.

“You so ARE.” You counter with a huge smile

He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I swear to god, if you don’t shut up—”

“But it’s so cuuuute~! You look very much like a fricking cat!”You leaned in closer, batting your eyelashes dramatically through your glasses.

Sukuna rolled his eyes but couldn’t fight the way the corner of his mouth twitched upward. He reached out, flicking your forehead lightly. “Shut up and eat, loser.”

You giggled, rubbing your forehead with a pout. “Rude.”

The rest of dinner was filled with playful teasing, snarky remarks, and comfortable silence in between. Sukuna might have been a grumpy bastard, but the fact that he was still sitting here, eating every bite of the meal you made, meant more than words ever could.

To you it just meant that you got his heart and that this date was so worth it. (And to him;he has to say seeing all this stuff and it to be for him made his cold stupid heart beat.)

And when he reached out to steal some of your mac and cheese, you knew. That it was good.

Tonight was perfect.

Hope yall have a great day.

I love to read yall comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

Mutuals taglist- @ukininayu @scoobysnakz @mononijikayu @ciggrx @lynxslokley

Made by @sukioyakio 2025

[underghostgaze]

“Stronger then they know”

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x New Recruit!Reader

Summary: Being a woman in the military was never easy, but you could handle yourself. The real problem started when your fellow soldiers—the ones who didn’t know about you and Simon—decided to make you their new favorite target. What they didn’t realize was who had your back.

Warnings: Heavy misogyny, crude comments, harassment, tension, protective Simon, strong language, violent confrontation, reader trying to calm Simon down.

——————————————————————————————————

The barracks smelled of sweat, metal, and gun oil—just like any other base you’d been stationed at. You’d only been here a week, but that was long enough to know how things worked.

Earn your place. Stay quiet. Work twice as hard as the men.

But it didn’t matter how sharp you were with your training or how quickly you learned. A woman in special forces? To some of these guys, it was nothing more than a joke.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The drawl came from behind you as you cleaned your rifle. “Didn’t know they were lettin’ skirts into the task force now. Thought this was a place for soldiers, not little housewives playin’ dress-up.”

You didn’t look up. Didn’t acknowledge it. They wanted a reaction. You wouldn’t give them one.

Another voice chimed in, this one rougher, cocky. “Maybe that’s why the brass keeps sending us on these shit deployments. Got too many distractions around here.” His tone dropped lower. “Though, I gotta say, I wouldn’t mind a little… personal distraction after hours.”

Laughter echoed around the room. Your blood ran hot.

You gritted your teeth, jaw tight as you kept your focus on your gun. One deep breath. Another.

“Oi.” A new voice cut through the air like a blade. Cold. Sharp. Dangerous.

The room fell silent.

Simon.

Your stomach twisted, but not out of fear.

They had no idea who they’d been talking about.

Simon stood in the doorway, his massive frame casting a shadow over the room. His skull-patterned balaclava was pulled up just enough to reveal the firm set of his jaw—and the look in his eyes was murderous.

He walked in slow, deliberate steps. No words. Just the weight of his presence enough to make even the cockiest men tense up.

“You lot got a problem with my recruit?” His voice was low, steady, deadly.

Silence.

One of them—Mason, you thought—had the nerve to scoff. “Relax, L.T. We were just having a laugh.”

Simon stopped in front of him, towering over him like a goddamn executioner. “A laugh?” His voice barely above a whisper, but it held more threat than a loaded gun.

Mason shifted uncomfortably, eyes flicking toward the others for backup, but no one spoke.

Simon leaned in slightly. “Say it again.”

Mason swallowed.

Simon didn’t blink. Didn’t move. Just waited.

The silence stretched until the air felt suffocating. The tension so thick you could feel it pressing against your skin.

“Nothin’ to say now?” Simon’s voice was softer, mocking. Dangerous.

Mason clenched his jaw. “It was just a joke.”

Simon exhaled sharply through his nose. “Funny. I didn’t laugh.”

Then, without warning—he moved.

Fast.

He grabbed Mason by the front of his uniform and slammed him against the nearest wall so hard the metal lockers rattled.

The entire room froze.

“You think you’re tough?” Simon growled. His grip tightened. “Think you can run your mouth like that without consequences?”

Mason’s face paled. “L.T.—”

Simon shoved him again, harder. “You talk about her like that again, and I’ll make sure you don’t have a tongue left to run.” His voice dropped to a low rasp, dangerous and quiet. “Understood?”

Mason nodded quickly, eyes wide.

“Simon.” Your voice was soft, meant only for him, but it cut through his anger like a bullet.

His grip didn’t loosen.

You swallowed, stepping closer. Your fingers curled gently around his arm. “Baby, that’s enough.”

The room shifted.

It wasn’t just the way everyone’s eyes widened at the pet name—it was the way Simon responded to it.

His body tensed, his breath sharp and uneven.

But he didn’t let go.

“Simon.” A little firmer this time. You ran your fingers over his wrist, grounding him. “Hun, stop.”

His fingers twitched.

His jaw clenched so tight it could’ve cracked. His breathing came fast, controlled but heavy.

Then, finally—he let Mason go.

The man hit the ground with a thud, coughing as he scrambled back.

Simon took a step away. His fists were still tight, his body still tense as a coiled wire.

But when he looked at you—his gaze softened. Just enough.

“With me.” His voice was still hard, but not unkind.

You nodded, following him out of the room.

Behind you, no one spoke.

——————————————————————————————————

The second you were alone, Simon turned to you, searching your face. “You alright?”

You swallowed, nodding. “I can handle myself, Simon.”

His jaw tightened. “I know. But that doesn’t mean I’ll stand by and let them treat you like that.”

Your chest ached. He was still angry, still on edge.

So you reached up, gently placing your palm against his cheek.

His breath hitched.

“It’s okay,” you murmured. “I’m okay.”

He exhaled slowly, leaning into your touch.

The fight was over.

But the war?

The next man who disrespected you wouldn’t be so lucky.

——————————————————————————————————

💬 Let me know if you want a part two!

[yandere-writer-momo]

Cleaning out my drafts and stumbled across this horror piece. Minors DNI please.

Yandere Head Canons: The Dollhouse Husband

Yandere Living Doll x GN Reader x One Sided Neglectful Toymaker Husband

TW: yandere themes, unhealthy relationship dynamics, obsession, neglectful husband, unhappy arranged marriage, murder, horror, and gore (mentioned)

His face was beautiful, just like your husband’s, yet he wasn’t your husband. No, this adonic doll was an imposter. A crude imitation of your distant beau. A creation your husband, Jonathan, made out of cruelty so you’d stop clinging to him and your desire for him to love you. A doll he crudely named Johnny. The nickname you affectionately called your emotionally constipated husband.

A marriage that was arranged since the two of you were young and yet your husband would not lie with you. No… he’d rather play with his toys. Jonathan told you he had made you this doll to play with so you’d leave him alone��

“What’s wrong dear?” A smooth voice whispered in your ear as lanky arms wrapped around your body to pull you closer to his. His skin felt like ice and you didn’t even feel a heartbeat… was this man undead? He wasn’t human, but you weren’t even sure if he was even living. “Is my appearance not to your liking? Your husband did his best to make me exactly in his image.”

“…” you frowned at his words, your words died off in your throat before they could even be uttered. How could you forget that your toy maker husband built you a living doll to be a crude imitation of him all because you expressed a desire for more attention. Yet it felt as if you were not worthy of having the real husband. Only this doll. A doll that would do anything you asked of it to an almost unhealthy degree.

Everywhere you want, Johnny followed. If you were in the garden, so was Johnny. If you were in the tub, Johnny would wash your hair and back for you. It didn’t matter that you were disinterested in this lifeless mockery of your husband, the doll would follow you.

“Dear? Do you not like me?” The doll asked once more as his porcelain arms wrapped around you tighter. His perfect face remained unmoved, but you swore his tenor voice sounded anxious. “I’m just as good as he is! I dote on you! I take care of you and your needs! I’m made as a perfect replica-“

“But you’re not my husband.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your eyes filled with sadness. “Your body is as cold as ice and you have no heartbeat… your presence does nothing but make me sink into a larger pit of loneliness.”

“So you desire warm skin and a heart?” The doll asked in a hushed tone. His glassy green eyes admired your form. “If I were to be more human… would you like me more?”

“…yes.” You just wanted the conversation to be over. To bury your head on your pillow and sob until you passed out from the loneliness and pity that consumed you. Were you that unloveable that your own husband gifted you a living doll?

If only you noticed the way Johnny rested his head on your shoulder as the cogs in his mind turned. You’d love him if he had skin and a heart? He’d do just that…

How were you to know that this doll would present you Jonathan’s heart the next day in a heart shaped box with a smile that could only be described as uncanny? Not to mention the porcelain white skin that was no doubt from your husband’s own face that rested on Johnny’s like a mask.

“I have the traits you desire… so won’t you like me now? I’m better than him in every way!” He shouted as he set the box down on the dining room table in front of you. He took his pointer fingers and curved the loose skin around his lips into a smile. “We can be happy here in our dollhouse! Please! Please say you like me now!”

You felt numb as the heart in front you leaked crimson all over the box. Perhaps… this was all your own doing due to your selfishness? Of begging to be loved all your life that only a living doll would pay you any mind?

You let out a shaky sigh before you gulped. The alive burned your throat like it was acid. Your gave a fake smile to Johnny who eagerly awaited the four words he longed to hear for his entire existence.

“I like you, Johnny.”

[morbethgames]

Love In Stasis - Chapter 4

Hey everyone, the story wasn't getting quite the amount of feedback or traction just on my Patreon, so I'm gonna be releasing at least a few more free chapters here. The Patreon version is currently up to Chapter 16, which is the chapter that really puts the sapphic into this sapphic romance mystery. So, if you're enjoying this story, please consider supporting over there, and I'd love to hear your thoughts and what you think about this story!

Patreon : Love in Stasis Chapter 1 :

Love in Stasis Chapter 2 :

Love in Stasis Chapter 3 : The Bureau Current Demo

4:23am - Police Station

Luz could be seen through the one way glass window from the other side of the interrogation room. Two men were standing there, arms crossed. One of them was a taller, dark-skinned, muscular man with a goatee and connected mustache. The other was an older white man, a little shorter than his six-foot-two counterpart, with a graying beard. The taller man had a perturbed look, while the other was more stern. 

“It doesn’t look good, Andre,” the man with the gray beard said.

“Yeah, I know,” Andre sighed heavily through his nose, then turned his head towards his captain. “But she didn’t do this, Crane.”

Captain Crane looked back at him sympathetically, but still not losing that sternness he was known for. “It’s not about whether I believe that. It’s about whether you can prove that.” He looked back into the room where Luz was sitting. She brought a hand up to her face and rubbed her eyes, wiping a stray tear away from one of them. The image of her ex-girlfriend’s lifeless body on the ground was no doubt continuously flashing through her mind.

The detective furrowed his brow, “What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

“That’s still applicable. Always will be.” Crane nudged his head towards Luz, “But if you can prove she’s innocent now, then we won’t have to keep her in our pool of suspects.”

Andre ran a hand down his goatee, then pointed towards Luz, obviously frustrated. His voice was calm in spite of that, “I’ve known Luz since she was a little girl. I’m tellin’ you, there’s no way she did this. It’s her job to search out crime that’s happening on that campus.”

“And it’s our job to consider all the possibilities, Andre. C’mon, you know that.” Captain Crane shook his head and sighed, “Look, I gave this one to you as a courtesy. Because I know you care about her. Just tell me right now if that was a mistake, because I’ll call someone else in here.”

There’s a pause as Andre turns to look into the interrogation room. He thinks about it, albeit briefly, then says, “No, I’ll handle it.”

“Good,” Crane said, opening the observation room door. “Then do your job, Detective Johnson. Keep me updated.” The police captain reluctantly looked towards the front of the station where the news reporters and cameras had gathered, before looking back. “I have a media frenzy to cull.”

A few more minutes go by, and at this point Luz is just sitting there, stuck in her own head. The cool metallic surface of the table is chilling against her skin as she leans her arms on it. At the very least, they gave her a clean set of clothes and let her wash her hands and face. Thanks to that, most of Mel’s blood was cleaned from her body, but she could still feel the weight of it. That viscous feeling on her palms still hadn’t gone away.

Her hands clenched as her face contorted into anguish and anger. What if she hadn’t spaced out? What if she hadn’t looked down at her phone? What if she had been just a minute sooner to the scene? She could’ve saved her. She could’ve been there, like she promised she always would be. Even after they broke up, she told Mel she’d always have her back. Well where the fuck was she this time? 

Why couldn’t she just be thirty seconds faster?!

The door opened, making her look up, momentarily freeing her from the guilt-ridden thoughts. She wiped an arm across her face to wipe away the tears that began to fall. “Andre…” 

The detective didn’t speak. At least not until the door behind him shut all the way. Then he let out a sigh and walked towards the table, staring down at her sympathetically. “Hey, kid.” He sat down on the edge of the table with a file in his hand, “How’re you holding up?”

Luz bit her lip, looked away and shook her head. The movement obviously meant to indicate ‘not well’. 

Andre nodded, taking another deep breath and placing the folder down onto the table. “You okay enough to answer a couple of questions?”

Luz sniffed, giving a half-shrug, half-nod in return. 

“Good, because Luz,” he paused, purposefully waiting for her to look at him. Which she did, slowly. “They have you as their lead suspect for this.”

Her eyes widened, and a look of rage came across her face. “What?!” 

“Luz-”

“I’m the one that fucking called it in!” She slammed a fist down onto the table, “She used to be my fucking girlfriend!” 

“And that, and your home life, is why they’re looking at you for this,” he replies calmly. 

Luz scoffed in disbelief, “My home life?! No, you mean my dad!” She stood up and leaned forward, putting her hands flat on the table. “Y’know, when you guys would answer those calls of drunken disorderlies down at the bar, and you’d let him off with a warning or have him spend a couple nights in jail, who the fuck do you think was getting the worse end of it when he was allowed to go home, huh?” Her voice raised to a shout, “And then you wanna use that to pin this shit on me?! Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Hey hey, kid-” Andre put up a hand, keeping an even tone and trying to de-escalate the tension. “-I’m not tryin’ to pin anything on you. Remember who the cop was that put your old man away in the first place.” He pointed to his chest, then let his hands rest in his lap. “The higher ups just care about making this all go away, but I’ll be damned if I let them-” he pointed to the door, “-pin anything on you, alright?” 

She stared him down and tears began to well up in her eyes again. So many emotions could’ve been contributing to them. Anger, frustration, sadness; it was too difficult to pinpoint the exact cause. Detective Johnson continued, “So you can stand, or you can sit, but do us both a favor and simmer down a couple notches. Because you’re angry; I get it. I would be too. Only a handful of people in the entire world know what you’re going through right now, but I really need you to keep a calm head and help me get you through this, okay?”

A tense silence settled in the room. There was nothing more infuriating than knowing that the people out there wanted to use their failures to pin her for a crime she didn’t commit. The murder of her friend. But ultimately, that wasn’t on Andre. If there was one person in this building she did trust, it was him. He was like the father figure she never had growing up, and probably the main reason she’s practicing criminal justice in the first place. 

So she let her legs give out and sat back in the chair, “Alright.”

“Good,” Andre leaned back to a more neutral position and continued, “So, tell me what happened. Where were you from two-thirty to three-fifteen this morning?”

Luz’s voice lost all defiance. All fight. Mostly because she felt secure enough with Andre to actually drop it. “I’ve been working all night. Patrolling around campus. At two-forty-five I stopped by Ellie’s Diner to grab a coffee. Then I took the car and went to sit in the Grayson Library parking lot until my break was over. I noticed someone on the green, but they took off as soon as I shut the car door.” She balled her hands into fists, “I should’ve gone after them.”

“You couldn’t have known, Luz.” Another pause enveloped the interrogation room before Andre continued. “Did you get a look at them?”

Luz shook her head, “No. Anywhere from five-foot-six to five-foot-ten. Wearing a baseball cap or something. I couldn’t see’em. It was too dark.” She started to bounce her leg, trying to hold it together. “After that I went to investigate where they’d been. And that’s when I found-” she stopped herself and grit her teeth. If she didn’t, she’d have broken down yet again. “I, uh… c-called it in after that. After I…” Her bottom lip quivered, “After I found her…” 

“Okay, hey-” Andre reached out his hand and leaned forward, putting it on her shoulder. “This is good, kid. You did good.”

She looked up at him, a single tear running down one of her cheeks, and waited for him to continue. 

“The fact that you were in your patrol car means they’ll be able to track the GPS back to everywhere you went tonight and know how long you were there for. They scoured the scene of the crime, searched your clothes, and searched your car. They didn’t find a murder weapon. Since you didn’t have it on you, and you didn’t have time to dispose of it in an area away from the immediate crime scene, there’s no way you could’ve done this.” He looked her in the eyes to make sure she understood what he’s saying, “You hear me? You’ll be outta here in a couple hours.”

Luz nodded, then looked down at the table.

“That bein’ said,” Detective Johnson said, “I do need you to sit tight for a couple of hours while we get the data from your work, okay? I’ll drive you back to your dorm room after we sort it all out.” He pats her shoulder a couple of times. “Hang in there kid.” Then, he stands up and begins walking to the door. 

“Hey, um, A-Andre…” Luz’s voice nearly gets caught in her throat, but it’s enough to make Andre turn around as he’s grabbing the handle to leave. “I, um,” she taps her fingers on the table. The words are difficult to push through due to the enormous amounts of bottled up emotions. But the grief is just too much. She was in front of someone she trusted and respected, and she just couldn’t keep holding it in any longer. “I don’t- I don’t know… what to do…” 

Andre’s shoulders visibly sulk as he sees the girl he’s tried so hard to protect lose all sense of innocence she had left. It wasn’t enough being knocked around at home, the world had to go and put this on her too. Not just the weight of a loss, but the guilt that came with it, too. It’s something he’d asked himself a number of times on the job.

What if I was just a little faster?

Luz closed her eyes and tears began spilling out in full force. She kept looking down and shook her head, her hair swaying from side to side as she spoke through strained cries. “I don’t know what to do…” 

It was almost enough to bring Andre to tears too. “Kid…” His voice was gentle and cautionary. He walked over towards her, and she immediately got up and turned to hug him. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him when she did, though. She felt weak, and for some reason ashamed. 

He hugged her back, putting a hand behind her head and letting her cry on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault.” He rubbed her back comfortingly, “It’s not your fault, Luz.”

11:25am - Madeline’s Dorm Room

As Madeline opened her eyes, she saw the familiar, yet blurry, walls and furniture of her dorm room. As her sight started to return to normal, she groaned and began sitting up.

“Hey, she’s awake.” The deeper voice said. 

“Oh, thank god.” A higher pitched voice said. 

“Where-?” Madeline began to speak, but her mouth felt extremely dry. She coughed and saw a figure come into view. 

“Easy there, Mads. Take it easy. Here,” Darrel handed her a cup of water he had kept on the desk at the foot of the bed. He tilted it up to her lips, letting her take a couple of sips before pulling it away. 

“Maddie?” Angie, one of the R.A.'s, was standing behind him, “How are you feeling?” 

“My head hurts.” The exhausted woman managed to prop herself up against the headboard, groaning as she answered the question, slowly reaching up to place the palm of her hand on her temple. She looked at both of them, who each had extremely concerned expressions on their faces. “What happened?”

Darrel looked away for a second and then stepped back, allowing Angie to come forward and take her hand. “Maddie, sweetie,” she gave it a gentle squeeze, “you were drugged at the bar last night.”

Her eyes went wide, and she put a hand over her mouth. Fear immediately came over her and she had assumed the absolute worst. Before that fear had time to fully set in, however, Angie leaned forward and continued. “Hey, that’s all that happened, okay? Darrel came along and caught you before it could fully take effect.”

She looked over at the physical trainer, still frightened, but less so now. She seemed more horrified that a guy was in the room while this conversation was happening. It was humiliating, especially in front of a man. She couldn’t even put into words why. It just made her feel a little more uncomfortable. That, in turn, made her feel guilty, because from what she was just told, he’s the one that got her to safety in the first place. 

Thing is, Darrel also seemed uncomfortable in the situation. He was looking away, and pretending as if he wasn’t hearing any of their conversation. Mainly to try and help Maddie feel more comfortable. “After the paramedics left, we both stayed here for the night to keep an eye on you.” 

Madeline held up a hand, looking confused. “Woah woah, wait- paramedics?” 

“Um, yeah,” Angie looked back at Darrel, who shared her look of concern, then turned back. “The paramedics got here shortly after you guys got back to the dorm. They woke you up as much as they could and had you take a couple tests.”

Maddie shook her head and her breathing started to speed up, “I don’t- I don’t remember. Last thing I remember was being at the bar.” She looked under the sheets, in a paranoia that everything wouldn’t be alright, then swiveled her head from left to right to look around the room. “W-what did they do? I- I don’t-”

Darrel came over and placed a hand on her shoulder, speaking softly. “Maddie. Maddie, it's okay. I promise, nothing happened. You weren’t assaulted or anything; I wasn’t ‘bout to let you stay at that place and risk letting that happen. When the EMT’s came in, I left the room for a bit-” he made sure to specify that part, “-then they took a urine sample, and a blood sample. They checked your eyes and, well, did other shit to make sure you were safe to stay here and sleep it off. We should get notified about what was used in a couple of weeks or so, they said.”

Madeline stared at him, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. “I just wanted to have a good time.” Her bottom lip quivered and she crossed her arms over her chest, gripping near her shoulders.

Darrel wasn’t sure what to do at this point. He looked over to Angie, who was equally as concerned. “Do you,” he paused, drawing out the end of the last word a little, “want me to call Mel?”

All Madeline did was nod her head yes while she quietly cried to herself for a bit. 

He got up and reached over to her phone, but just as he opened the contacts and started typing in Melody’s name, there were a few hard knocks on the door. He turned his head to look at Maddie, seeing Angie sitting with her now and making sure she was being taken care of. So, he figured it was alright to answer the door first. 

He put the phone down on the desk and went to answer it. When he peered into the hallway and saw who it was, there was an immediate sense of dread. Not because of the aforementioned who, but because of how rough she looked, “Luz?” 

She looked awful. She hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. She’d barely had anything to eat since dinner time the previous night. Not to mention her eyes were extremely bloodshot from all of the crying she’d been doing the past eight or so hours. 

Luz looked just as surprised to see Darrel opening the door as he was to see her on the other side of it. A bubbling sense of jealousy built inside her, but was luckily numbed by the news she came here to give Madeline. Still, the confusion was prominent in her tone, “Darrel? The hell are you doing here?”

He looked back into the room and took a deep breath, before looking back at Luz. “Better question is, what happened to you?” He stepped out into the hall, letting the door close most of the way behind him. “You didn’t sleep last night or somethin’?”

She looked off to the side and cleared her throat, “No.” Luz paused, controlling the urge to just push her way into the dorm room. “You mind giving us some time alone? I have something I need to talk to Maddie about.” She was dreading it, but it still had to be done.

Darrel shook his head, “Look, Luz, I don’t know what you got goin’ on, but it’s not really a good time right now.” He side-eyed the door before returning his gaze. 

Luz furrowed her brow in frustration, “Look, I don’t fuckin’ care what you two had goin’ on last night, you can give it a rest long enough for me to talk with her, alright?”

Darrel glared down at her, “You best tone down the venom, homegirl. I don’t appreciate the third degree-”

The woman attempted to just push her way past him, “I don’t have time for this shit. Just-” 

“Luz-” Darrel put a hand on her shoulder and pushed against her, which she shrugged off angrily and prepared to push back in retaliation.

“Hey- don’t fuckin’ touch me man!” 

“Maddie was drugged last night.” The words left his mouth sternly, but still in almost a whisper. 

She stopped in her tracks and her eyes went wide, “What did you just say?”

Darrel let out a heavy breath, “Maddie was at a bar last night and I saw her start to, y’know-” he held his hand flat, tilting it back and forth. “So I walked over to see if she was alright.” His eyes drifted down, “She wasn’t.”

Luz’s head was spinning with a million different thoughts. A thousand different emotions. Did someone take advantage of her? Was she awake now? Did she get help? Who slipped her that drink? Who was she going to go beat the shit out of and probably get expelled over? Did Maddie know? Should she even tell her right now if she doesn’t?

She was flexing her arm and clenching her fist so hard out of anger that her hands were shaking. Her throat was strained and she was actively holding back the need to throw a fist at the wall as hard as she could. Depending on the answer she got to this next question would be the answer to whether or not she followed through with that impulse. 

“Did they-” she grit her teeth, “Y’know-”

Darrel held out his hands and quickly answered, seeing where her head was at, “No- fuck no. I got there before anyone could lay a fuckin’ hand on her.” 

Both of them released a sigh as a vast majority of the tension simmered down to a palatable amount. “Trust me, I was askin’ myself the same question when I first saw her. I was ready to knock someone on their ass, too. But no, I took her here as soon as I knew what happened, and Angie and I have been with her all night since then.”

Luz nearly started crying again right then and there, only out of relief this time. “God-” she put a hand up to her forehead and took a deep breath. Then she took a step forward and pulled Darrel into a tight hug. “Thank you, man. I mean it. Thank you so much.”

From this point, Darrel is taken completely off guard. He’s never seen Luz like this in his two years of knowing her and hanging out with her. She’s always either acting tough, or joking around, or brooding. But he’s never seen her emotional like this. He cautiously wrapped an arm behind her in response. 

“Yeah, sure, no problem.” There was a pause between the two where they just held the hug for a bit before Luz pulled away and took a step back. “Luz, are-” he lowered his voice a little more, “are you alright?”

She shook her head, having to take a deep breath before responding in order to hold it together. “No. I know it’s not a good time, but I still need to talk to her.” She looked him in the eyes, her gaze pressing and her tone was desperate, “Please.”

The door opened behind him and both he and Luz looked to see Angie’s head sticking out. “Darrel, what’s going-” then she saw Luz and nodded as a form of greeting, “Luz, hi. Sorry, Maddie’s not taking any visitors right now. I can give her a message if you-”

“Mel’s dead.” Luz interrupted, quietly. The words left her throat like she had to push them out. 

Both Angie and Darrel’s faces dropped. Their eyes went wide in disbelief, and Darrel was the first one to speak up. “What the fuck do you mean she’s dead?” He looked back to Angie, who had a hand up covering her mouth and the beginnings of tears started to form.

Luz closed her eyes and talked through clenched teeth, trying to get through a quick explanation. “I found her body on patrol last night on the green outside the library.” She looked back up at Darrel with the same pleading expression, “Please, man, I need to be the one to tell her. Alright- look she’s my friend, and she was Mel’s best friend, and Mel was my-” She choked on the words, and wasn’t able to get the rest of them out without breaking, which she couldn’t allow herself to do out here in the hallway.

A tear rolled down Angie’s cheek and quietly spoke through her hand, “This can’t be happening.”

“Please, Darrel.” Luz’s voice snapped him out of his disbelief, “Maddie can’t learn about this from the news, or some email the school sends out. It’s gotta be from me.” She pauses again, letting the words sink in. Letting the realization of what hearing it by a third party like that might do to her. But Luz was so hellbent on being the one to tell her because, in a way, it was one of the last things that she could do for Melody. To be there for her best friend on probably the worst day of her life. “Please.”

Darrel stares at her for a moment, then subtly nods his head, his gaze much more mournful than it previously was, “Alright. We’ll get outta here. C’mon, Ange.” 

Angie wasted no time fast-walking out the door and down the hall. The tears that had already escaped were only the first of many. One could only imagine that an R.A. felt somewhat responsible for the students in their building. In a way, she might have felt like she failed Melody too. 

Darrel took a couple steps out of the room and held the door for Luz, who put a hand on it to stop it from closing and began walking forward. “And Luz,” Darrel said, causing her to stop where she was and look back at him, “I’m so fuckin’ sorry for your loss. If you need anything,” he paused again, letting his sentence trail off. He and Luz weren’t the touchy feely kind of people. They didn’t show their emotions on their sleeve. So when he simply left it at that, all she had to do was look at his face and she knew what he meant. 

“Thanks. I will.” 

Darrel nodded to her and walked down the hallway to try and catch up with Angie to make sure she was alright. 

Which left Luz standing there, holding the door to the dorm room open. She turned her head to see what little of the inside she could from this angle, trying to gather enough willpower to take those first steps in. With a deep breath, she gathered the strength to move that first foot and steeled herself for one of the toughest conversations of her life.

As she heard the door close, Madeline looked up and saw who it was. Her eyes widened a bit and she instinctively pulled the covers up towards herself a little more, “Luz?” For some reason, she was the last person Maddie wanted to see right now. Because of the shame. The humiliation. Because she felt so unbelievably stupid for letting something like this happen in the first place. None of these thoughts were warranted, and logically, it wasn’t her fault at all. But if logic had a say in trauma responses, no one would need therapists. 

She couldn’t figure out why she felt this way with Luz though. After all, she was-

“Hey, Maddie.” Luz spoke softly, interrupting her train of thought and sitting on the side of the bed, close to her. “Heard you had a rough night.” Madeline’s head sank and her expression fell. “How are you holding up?”

Maddie shrugged, “Dunno. I feel-” she had to stop to think of what to say, “Stupid, I guess.”

Luz immediately scooched a little closer and put a hand on one of her legs that was currently covered by the blanket. “Hey, stop that. It’s not your fault some asshole decided to slip something into your drink.”

“Yeah, but I should’ve been more-”

“Maddie,” Luz rubbed her leg, interrupting her thought process before she could finish, “it’s not your fault. Don’t victim blame yourself, okay? All you did was go out to have a good time. This isn’t on you.”

Madeline looked up at Luz for the first time since she sat on the bed. She didn’t know if forgiveness towards herself would come anytime soon, but having someone here to reassure her and remind her not to blame herself was a step in the right direction. 

When Maddie did look up, though, she saw what kind of state Luz was in. “Luz,” she leaned forward a bit, “you look like hell. What happened?”

Luz looked down and attempted to keep it together. Because Madeline would need her to. She needed to be the strong one out of the two of them, at least for right now. 

“Luz?” Madeline asked softly, moving one of her hands just a little closer to Luz’s, but not so much that they were touching. 

“Mads, I um,” she cleared her throat again and looked Maddie in the eye. The concern was already palpable, “Melody. She’s-” Luz’s eyes became glassy and she found it more difficult to speak. “She’s dead, Mads.”

Madeline just stared for a couple of seconds. 

She blinked, and a small smile came across her lips as she tried to reassure her friend. “Luz, I was just with her last night. Melody’s fine.”

But the longer Luz continued to silently stare at her, the more unsure Madeline got. The silence was all that filled the room. From the look on the taller woman’s face, Madeline knew Luz was sure of what she said. And so her own expression became more irritated, and she retracted her hand. “Luz, you’re wrong.” 

Another couple seconds of silence. 

Luz shook her head. 

“Or you’re lying. You’re wrong or you’re lying, Luz, and I really don’t fucking appreciate it.” Madeline nudged her head towards the desk, “Go grab my phone. I’ll call her right now. Come on, go get it.”

“Mads,” Luz talked softly, and tears were dangerously close to escaping at this point. “I found her body on the green this morning.”

“No-” Maddie held up a pointer finger. Tears began to form in her own eyes now as her breath sped up. “No, Luz-”

“I ran over but I was too late. I couldn’t help her-”

“No! You’re lying!” Madeline pushed forward in an attempt to shove Luz away. To shove the harsh, bitter reality that was being presented to her away. 

Luz’s voice broke a little and a single tear dropped down her cheek. “I didn’t want you to find out through social media or the news-” she shook her head again, almost in a pleading gesture. Pleading for her friend to forgive her for even having to be the one to tell her this in the first place. “Mads I’m so sorry-”

Madeline threw a hand forward as she screamed at the top of her lungs with tears rushing down her face. “NO!” The first one managed to hit Luz in the side of the face, which surprised the woman. But she quickly recovered and was able to restrain Madeline’s wrists by her sides, pulling the distraught woman closer towards herself. 

Maddie began getting dizzy again. The hysteria was in full effect, and the fact that she wasn’t fully rested from just being drugged at the bar last night only made things worse. “You’re lying!” She screamed out again, then collapsed forward into Luz’s shoulder. 

After a couple of seconds, with Maddie uncontrollably crying into her, Luz swiftly released her wrists and wrapped her arms around her, letting tears of her own begin to fall. One of her hands rested on Madeline’s back, and the other on the back of her head. Luz only felt her emotions take an even bigger nose-dive when she could feel Maddie noticeably shaking. The news wasn’t just catastrophic; it had sent her into a form of shock. It was one of the worst pains Madeline had ever felt, and would ever feel, in her lifetime. 

“MEL!” She sobbed, drawing out her best friend’s name as some sort of plea or bargain to try and get her back. “No, Mel!” Maddie continued shouting similar things into Luz’s shoulder in between her heart-wrenching sobs. 

Luz rubbed the back of Maddie’s head, trying to comfort her as much as she could. She swallowed the lump in her throat and sniffed, trying and succeeding to talk clearly past her own tears. “I’m so sorry Mads. I promise you, I’m gonna find out who did this. I’m gonna take care of you.” She began rocking subtly left and right, “I promise.”

At that moment, with both of them so stricken by grief, neither of them really knew exactly what those words meant. They would have time later to reflect on them, but for the time being, they both needed each other to mourn. Nothing would ever be the same again. 

Entire worlds have crumbled beneath the weight of feelings like this. Nothing made sense anymore. Everything that was once right in the world seemed to be a never-ending spiral of horrid, suffocating truths. A downward cascade of events that, when put together, made a reality that no sane person could ever be content with living in. The only way anyone could get through it all… was together.

[whispersleo]

Boys will be boys

Illario Appreciation Week: (5) Consequences of Actions / (Alt 3) Fighting / (6) Veilguard Companion / (4) Childhood Memories

TW: CHILD ABUSE

Read here or in AO3

Illario couldn’t remember why they were fighting. He was certain Lucanis had started it, provoking him with cruel jokes, but now, as fists and kicks flew across the room, he couldn’t say for sure.  

At some point, as Lucanis rushed toward him, Illario shoved him back, arm pressing against his chest with all his strength. Lucanis, smaller in stature, stumbled and hit his head against the edge of the wooden frame supporting the bed. His body crumpled to the floor, knocked out, a wound forming at the back of his head.  

“Shit,” Illario cursed, breathless as he crouched down. His legs burned, adrenaline numbing the pain of the blows he had taken. He grabbed his brother by the shoulders. “Lucanis? Lucanis, damn it, wake up.” He shook him, but the boy didn’t move. Horror settled in as Illario watched the blood trickling from the wound, too much, too fast. His mind raced.  

He was so, so screwed.  

With shaking limbs, he lifted Lucanis, cradling his weight despite the fear tightening his chest. Finding his balance, he hoisted his brother up and sprinted out of his room.  

“Help! I need help!” he yelled, his voice raw, echoing down the hallway. Servants rushed toward him, eyes widening at the sight of Illario’s blood-soaked hand cradling the back of Lucanis’s head.  

An older elf stepped forward.  

“Lay him on the couch downstairs. I’ll fetch the healer,” he ordered firmly. Illario nodded and followed him to the sitting room.  

Kicking aside decorative pillows, he carefully laid Lucanis on the couch and dropped to his knees beside him, pressing a hand to the wound.  

“What happened?” a maid asked, hurrying over with a bucket of water and a sponge.  

Illario grabbed the sponge, his throat dry. “We were playing, and he tripped,” he said. It didn’t feel like a lie. They never fought seriously. “H-he hit the bed frame,” he stammered.  

The elf grimaced but helped push Lucanis’s hair aside so he could clean the wound.  

“He’ll be fine. The healer is on the way,” she reassured him, trying to soothe the terrified young Dellamorte.  

Then, hurried footsteps and the rhythmic tap of a cane against the floor made Illario’s stomach drop. Every hair on his body stood on end as he stepped aside to let the healer tend to his brother.  

Caterina’s icy gaze locked onto him.  

“Illario,” she called.  

The maid stepped away quickly, casting him a look of pity as the preteen shrank in place, waiting for his grandmother to reach him.  

“You’re going to tell me what happened. Right now.”  

Her cane struck the floor once, the sharp sound making Illario flinch and squeeze his eyes shut.  

“We were playing—”  

“Who?”  

“L-Lucanis and me,” he stammered. “We were playing in my room.”  

“And then?”  

Caterina slowly circled him, her gaze flicking toward the healer, who was now wrapping Lucanis’s head.  

“He tripped, and—”  

“No.”  

Her cane swung, striking his arm hard enough to send him stumbling to the side. The servants looked away.  

“T-that’s what happened, Caterina—”  

“How dare you keep lying?”  

She moved with practiced ease, driving the crow-shaped head of her cane into Illario’s ribs. He bit his lip to keep from crying out, fingers digging into the wall for support.  

“The truth, Illario. Now.”  

“Lucanis… tripped and hit the bed frame…” he whispered, meeting her stare.  

She exhaled in disappointment, turned her cane, and the next thing Illario felt was a sharp blow to the back of his head.  

Darkness swallowed him whole.  

—  —  —  —  —  —  —  —  —  

When Illario woke up, his hands were bound to a wooden post he knew all too well. His shirt was gone, and he shifted onto his knees, resigned.  

They were in one of the training grounds—or more accurately, the punishment yard.  

“What have I told you about fighting outside of training, Illario?”  

His grandmother’s voice cut through the thick silence. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing her standing behind him, a riding crop in hand. Beside her stood Lucanis, eyes wet, his head still wrapped in bandages.  

Relief flooded Illario. His brother was awake.  

“We’re not supposed to,” he answered, lowering his gaze to the post.  

“You could have killed him.”  

The first lash struck. Illario tensed immediately, pressing his chest against the wood, a muffled whimper escaping between gritted teeth.  

He squeezed his eyes shut. Had Lucanis told her? Had he asked her to punish him?  

“I’m sorry,” he managed to say.  

The next strike came, fire searing his back as the wound split open.  

“If you ever lay a hand on him like that again, whatever happens to him, I will do to you twice over,” Caterina warned coldly.  

The final lash was the worst.  

Illario’s silent tears fell, his body trembling as he hung his head. He heard his grandmother walking away. Then, softer steps approaching.  

Lucanis.  

Still dizzy with pain, Illario barely registered his brother untying his wrists.  

“I’m sorry,” Lucanis whispered, breath uneven. “She said you had already told her what happened. I tried to explain it was an accident…”  

Illario sniffled, his hands slipping to the ground. Lucanis caught him and helped him sit upright. Without hesitation, Illario leaned into him, his whole body shaking.  

“It’s okay,” he murmured just as quietly. His sobs quieted as he took a deep breath, giving Lucanis’s shoulder a light squeeze. “Are you okay? What did the healer say?”  

“Just a small hit… he said head wounds always bleed way too much… I’m sorry,” Lucanis whispered again, glancing at the open wounds on his brother’s back.  

Illario shook his head. “You scared the hell out of me. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that… Caterina was right.” He sighed. “I could’ve really hurt you.”  

“It was a stupid accident.”  

“Yeah, but let’s not do it again, Lucanis,” Illario joked, squeezing him affectionately.  

The pain, the wounds, none of it mattered. His brother was okay. That was all that mattered.

—  —  —  —  —  —  —  —  —  

"So what I’m hearing is that you knocked out the Vyrantium demon with a single shove?" Sienna said, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

Lucanis and Illario exchanged a look before bursting into laughter, just as drunk. Illario had passed his limit a while ago and was practically sprawled out in his comfortable chair.

"Yeah, the bastard really did," Lucanis said, wrinkling his nose in amusement.

"Have you two fought like that again?" the redhead asked curiously. "Have you knocked each other out since?"

"Please," Illario scoffed. "We’re not kids. We fight without passing out now."

"I seem to remember winning our last fight," Lucanis said with a smug grin.

Illario rolled his eyes and flicked a few drops of water from his other glass at him, making his cousin grunt in annoyance.

"Having a demon stuck up your ass is hardly an achievement," the older one teased, shrugging a shoulder with a smirk. "I’ll tell your boyfriend to join next time—then we’ll be on equal footing."

"Oh, please, yes!" the warden grinned from his seat, raising his glass and clinking it against Illario’s with a laugh.

"Davrin!" Lucanis groaned. He tried to shove him, but instead, he flopped over into his chair, his head landing against the warden’s shoulder. Davrin just laughed.

"What? It sounds like fun."

"I can't wait to see that," Sienna grinned. He eyed Emmrich’s glass and straightened up, bottle in hand. "More wine?"

"Please," the mage nodded, watching the others as Sienna poured. "Would that really be fair, Illario?" he mused. "Spite grants him impressive magical abilities, but teaming up with our dear grey warden? That seems a bit excessive."

"Well," Illario drawled, "you can join him if you want, Emm. But in that case, I’m calling Taash for my team."

"Fighting mages is too easy," Taash chimed in. They sat solidly in their chair, but the color in their cheeks told a different story about how the alcohol was hitting them. They turned to Sienna, miming a dagger pointed at him. "Quick, what’s the secret to fighting mages?"

Everyone at the table looked at them—then erupted into laughter.

"Don’t. Let. Them. Cast!"

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

Okay guys REALISTICALLY what gates and theories do you want to become real Byler moments in s5? I’ll go first.

— Will Byers and Holly Wheeler bonding and Mike absolutely meltinggg yes please (bro is so cooked)

— Will and Mike babysitting Holly, they start flirting and that’s one of the reasons Holly disappeares. Mike ofc blames himself for getting distracted and carried away with his flirting and VOILA! ANGSTTT (Mike Queerler blaming himself for acting queer and seeing Holly’s disappearance as a punishment from some higher power for being gay)

— I want the moment Will sees Mike’s new haircut so baddd you guys don’t understand. “You look… it looks great, Mike” AIDHWKHDKWHRKAHSJWHRJIWEU

— Byler hugs come home, we miss you. Byler hugs. Home. Byler. HUGS. Byler HUGS. HUGGIES AND CUDDLINGGG

— One of them in the hospital and the other by his bedside and he gives him a forehead kiss while he sleeps <3 (idk where I got this from to begin with but it hasn’t left my mind since)

— Byler cleaning each other’s wounds in the green house at at Lover’s Lake

— AN ALMOST KISS AND I TRULY CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. ALSO DID I MENTION AN ALMOST KI- *gunshots*

— That pic of Finn sitting in a room with wide open yellow curtains right behind him, looking troubled as the light falls on him…? Yeah. I want to see whatever revelations Mike’s having in that scene (hmm I wonder what they might be about…) CLEARLY on his face! I want to see the “Oh. Oh.” moment in action. (Although I think he’s already had his oh OH moment in s3 and/or s4 so maybe that’s not what’s going on in this scene, but still I want 🤌EMOTIONS🤌✨)

— Chill Mileven breakup on the rooftop, Mike immediately moving on to talk about how worried he is for Will and El immediately clocking his shit but keeping it to herself

— The bullies that used to bully the Party back in the days teasingly call Mike “Zombie Boy’s Boyfriend” and he doesn’t bat an eye, but then they shove Will into a locker or something with no intention of picking a fight and Mike IS NOT HAVING IT… fighting ensues and punches are thrown and Wheelers are beaten black and blue ❤️ (Go bad bitch go bad bitch go)

— SCENES LIKE THE ROVICKIE SCENE MAKINV SANDWITCGES BUT BYLERRR

— CHURCHGATE! Will is possessed and choking Mike, Mike is literally dying but smiles a lil smile through his tears and taps “I love you” into Morse code against Will’s wrist in what he thinks is his last moments… little does he know that’s what saves Will and also himself! Hooray! 🥰 (For now I might add, it’s far from over innit) (Also I just saw a post about how actions speak louder than words in ST and that Byler probably won’t say out loud — or tap — ily to each other. Alternatively Mike taps “crazy together”? But I’m also not too big on the GIVE-US-THROWBACKS-TO-PREVIOUS-SEASONS-AND-THEIR-BYLER-MOMENTS stuff so… yk what idk but Mike IS using morse code to snap Will out of it because I SAID SO!)

— Y’all this is smth I made up myself in a late night Byler scenario once and never shared (I thenk) so it’s technically not a hate but: yk how the only part of Will not possessed in s2 (the one hand he used to tap messages in morse code to the others) was the hand Mike held earlier on in the season? Well, what if that’s the key to snap him out of his possession temporarily? Idk how Mike figures it out, maybe he connects the dots somehow and just goes with it, but picture this: Will is possessed, fighting back as Mike holds him close and just — touches him. NOTHING SEXUAL! Just, the sensuality of it? Mike holding Will close after ages of not properly hugging him, running his hands through his hair and over his backs and shoulders and arms and yeee Will slowly starts to regain control over his body, all whilst still spitting things that undeniably sting. Because yk. Vecna and allat. So it’s like Mike is being Vecna’s but it’s real, but it’s also not real because Will doesn’t mean that and he’s not even the one saying those things, it’s Vecna. And then ig Mike maybe… KISSES Will in the end to stop him from talking and give him back the ability to speak freely too? Idk just a thought DONT MIND ME GUYS THE LATE NIGHT SCENARIOS BE LIKE THAT OKAY DONT JUDGEEE IM A SAP AND A SUCKER FOR NON-SEXUAL INTIMACY

— Let’s ignore that lost thing I wrote kay? REALISTICALLY: I don’t want the kiss to be the love confession. Yk? Make them happen on two separate occasions. Love confession first, kiss on a later occasion, because yk what they say: if a kiss is needed to confess ur love then is it rlly love? The confession shall be in the form of WORDS

— Byler get Lucas-and-Dustin’d buttttt it’s discreet, like when Jonathan let Will know that he knew he was gay and in love with Mike in s4 but without explicitly saying it! And this could happen somewhere at the end of the season, maybe they speak to Will and Mike on separate occasions, maybe with both of them at the same time, yk anything works

— ROBIN BONDING WITH THEM BOTH AND CLOCKING THEIR SHITTT but she speaks to them both without the other one present

— Y’all have heard about “Painting? What painting?” before, now get ready for “You know… the painting I gave you before?” “Mhm?” “It was from me. And— me only. El didn’t commission it.” “Just like she didn’t commission that speech you gave me?” “Huh?” “Will. I know the painting was from you. I knew this whole time.” (I am a MIKE WHEELER ISNT FUCKING OBLIVIOUS HE KNEE WHAT THE GELL WAS GOING ON HE WAS JUST CONFLICTED AYDJWKDJEJ truther always and forever. Oh and this conversations happens while Will and Mike are in an established relationship btw.)

— This isn’t rlly Byler but WILL COMING OIT TO JOYCE AND JOYCE BEING THE QUEEN SHE IS AND ACCEPTING HIMMM tears are shed and hugs are given. Wholesomeness. Just.. Yes.

— “What’s gay?” (Again not rlly Byler but I love El too much not to include this in this list)

— BYLER SHARING CLOTHESSS (Mike’s sweaters being too small for Will but he wears them anyways and Mike DIES every time — yes plss)

— BYLER! SHARING! A BED! Because Will had a nightmare once and “Oh for fuck’s— this is getting stupid. Just— just get up here already, Will.” “Huh? What?” “Get into the bed or you’ll have the back of an old man when you’re twenty/Get in or you’ll freeze to death”… just THEM ATXGWKDJEKKEIE (not me crashing out— mb y’all this post is chaos now and i rule it) And then they just never stop sharing a bed <3

— Them bonding over their shared music taste! (“Smalltown Boy and Boys Don’t Cry? I love those songs!”)

— To be added onto ❤️

[deus-ex-mona]

it started as a simple song-inspired fic, how did it end up like this

[redrook]

I spent a lot of time handcuffed and in a cage in high school, for a charity bit the grocery store I worked at would do

the bit was that I was "put in jail for having too big a heart" and customers could donate to my bail to get me out (and the money would go to a children's hospital or something)

now. I was very clearly a teenaged employee handcuffed inside a large cage. and I would honestly tell people that I had been in there for hours. and people would say, that's terrible! that's awful! and I would show them my wrists red from the tight handcuffs, and say but I'm sooooooo close to making bail.

and then they would dump some cash in the basket, I'd thank them, and they'd walk away.

and every so often, one of the managers would come by and collect some of the cash, so I could keep being soooooo close to making bail.

I was very good with this bit. Parents with small kids would pay $5-10 if I told their children I had been placed in jail for not cleaning my room/doing my homework, etc. For people in their 20s, I'd threaten that I was very bad at playing the harmonica, but I WOULD play it and we'd all suffer unless they paid me. and for the most amount of money, older men in suits would almost always pay $20s if I avoided eye contact and stammered a lot.

eventually, the managers started to feel bad because I was in the cage so fucking long and often, that I'd need someone to brace me when I got out because I'd have no feeling in my legs. wobbling like a newborn giraffe.

but I would also rake in at LEAST $100 an hour in charity.

so they were like, hey champ. can we, uh, give you a pillow to sit on. in the cage. would you like a pillow so you're not just sitting on a cold metal slab. can we give you a pillow.

and I had to explain to them that if they gave me a pillow, people would think I was more comfortable, so they wouldn't feel as bad, so I'd bring in less money.

the compromise was that they'd bring me a nice coffee every couple hours, which I would have to try to block with my body from the customers.

all this money went to charity. that's what the money was for. it's what was on the sign. but how much they were willing to pay was very contingent on how comfortable I looked, never mind the fact that I was still a teenaged employee handcuffed inside a cage.

and out of the dozens of shifts I did this on, not ONCE did ANYONE say, hey kid I'm going to go talk to your manager because what the fuck is going on here. they would just drop money in the basket, and I'd thank them and sip from my secret drink.

I actually had people get MAD at me that I told them I was far away from bail, they donated like $15, and then 20 minutes I got let out because my shift ended.

again. the money was for charity. it was on the sign that was very clearly placed on the upper half of my cage.

so yeah. even when people think they mean well. people can be really, really fucking stupid.

[your-internet-bf]

It's been a while since you've seen a doctor, and you're nervous as you follow the nurse back to my office. What's there to be nervous about, this is just a little checkup, right? You notice the nurse's manicured burgundy nails as she knocks sharply on the door. She turns to you, smiling prettily, and says, "the doctor will see you now."

You push open the door and enter quite a large room. The nurse follows, closing the door behind you. In the center is the examination table, off to the right is a small crowd of young adults, appearing to be made up of men and women, and on the left is me, seated at my desk. "Welcome," I say, standing and extending one hand. My voice is deep, warm, and smooth, and you fumble for a moment, blushing a little, before you remember to shake my hand. Your hand is dwarfed in mine, my strong fingers encircling you, and a thought flashes unbidden through your mind - what would those fingers feel like inside you? - but, come on now, that's really not appropriate...

"I have a few students with me, as you can see. Is that alright?"

"Well, yes, of course!" Why shouldn't it be?

"Excellent. Now, I'm pioneering this new full-body examination method - it's really quite extraordinary, the maladies I can detect this way - but be warned, it is, shall we say, unorthodox. Is that alright?"

Just for a moment, you see something in my eyes, something behind the genial smile and gentle, reassuring tone. Just for a moment, you feel like some specimen, some piece of meat, pinned down under the lights with nowhere to go... but just for a moment. Surely, nothing bad can happen, and I'm a doctor, aren't I? You can trust me. So you swallow your fear, and you acquiesce.

"Excellent! Let's have a seat on the table, if you don't mind, and we'll make a start. Nurse V, if you would..."

As you sit on the table, the clinical, sterile seating a little cold against your skin, the pretty nurse steps behind the table, facing you, waiting for something. From your right, I approach, and you feel again just how much larger than you I am as my broad shoulders block out one of the ceiling lights. With all these people watching you, it takes all you have not to squeeze your legs together, just a little bit.

We begin with a quick examination of your face - "you have beautiful eyes, you know," I purr into one ear. I place one hand on the side of your neck and tilt your head; god, you've been reading too much, haven't you, the way you want these strong, expert fingers to close around your throat.

"Now, open your mouth for me, please." You oblige, and I cup your chin and slide my thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. Your eyebrows jump in surprise, and you look at me questioningly.

I smile again, still inside you. "Unorthodox, remember? Now, close your mouth and try to swallow." From behind, the nurse strokes your cheek with the back of one hand, and you feel a sudden ache between your legs. You close your lips around my thumb and swallow. It tastes... clean, mostly, as one might expect from a doctor, but you can taste the sweat underneath.

"Very good, one more time for me."

You swallow again, and you feel me slide my thumb over the surface of your tongue, pressing down, swirling in circles.

"And, one more time... yes, that's it, good job, very good job."

The praise for this degrading task is more than you can bear, and you squeeze your thighs together. Fuck, it's humiliating, everyone just saw you do that... All these eyes on you, the beautiful nurse behind you, this big, strong doctor with these big, strong hands and that big fucking bulge... but no, this is just a checkup, nothing is going to happen, right?

While you were thinking, I dried my hand off and had begun speaking.

"I'm - I'm sorry?"

"No worries. I was saying, can you remove your top, please? We need to examine your heart and your breathing."

You stare at me. "Remove my - "

"Yes, remove your top. The fewer barriers between me and you, the less interference with my examination." My face is quite serious, almost bored - this really must be routine. You look back at the nurse, and she smiles slightly and nods. So you undress, your nipples betraying you, standing at attention. You blush as the crowd of students looks at you intently. The nurse lays one warm hand on your shoulder, slender fingers gripping you reassuringly, and your eyes are drawn once more to those burgundy nails.

I step in close, and you feel my breath warm on your chest. "Now, observe the stiffness in the patient's nipples - this is to be expected, given the cool air, and it's certainly nothing to be ashamed of," I say, smiling. I press my stethoscope up over your heart, the metal cold on your skin, and your mind is betrayed by the pounding of your heart. My eyes flick up to meet yours, and I grin, predatorily, and once again you feel like a piece of meat beneath the lights.

I examine your breasts, starting with your left. Enclosed in my big, strong hands, I squeeze and push, prod and pull, ostensibly feeling for any abnormalities, but the way my fingers brush over your nipples, the intensity with which I sink them into your soft breasts, heaving now as your breath comes faster... My practiced tongue rasps over one nipple and a tiny moan escapes your lips as you try desperately to hide how much you're enjoying this; try desperately, and fail.

Abruptly, I pull back. "Excellent! All seems well here." I rest one hand on your other shoulder and turn to the students. "Note the pleasure response during this section of the examination, and I hope you were paying attention to the oral technique."

I turn back to you, my eyes dancing as they meet yours. "Fully undress, if you would. The inspection must continue."

Your hands tremble as you slide your clothes down off your waist, and the nurse aids you, her lovely hands stroking along your thighs and calves as she does.

"And spread for us, please."

Obediently, your thighs open, exposing your cunt, your needy, aching wetness, to all.

"Note the beauty of the patient's sex, here. The shape of the folds," I murmur, tracing one finger along your sensitive lips, "the balanced ratio of the clitoris to the vulva overall," sliding two fingers on either side of your clit, squeezing gently between them, "the appropriate pleasure response in - "

You lose what I say as I plunge two fingers inside you, powerful and dextrous, knuckles slipping past your tightness easily. It feels so fucking good to finally have something inside you, after all this aching and teasing, and god, so many people are watching, they're all watching your pussy spread and toyed with by this big, strong, handsome older man, and now the nurse's slender fingers are across your throat and her lips are on your forehead, and she tells you that you're doing so well for me, you've been so good...

My fingers press up inside you, finding your g spot, and with my thumb rubbing on your clit, I start melting you. Waves of pleasure course through your body, you gasp, moan, whimper, and with your eyes closed you can't tell whose lips are so soft on yours, but it feels so fucking good, and all those people are watching and it makes you want it more, your back arching, chest heaving, melting under the attention, and finally, mercifully, you cum, contracting around my fingers, squeezing your thighs together, trembling, shaking, gasping for air. You hear me say something, but you're so overwhelmed with pleasure that all you can make out from my speech is "very, very good".

The hand withdraws from your throat, and I gently, gently, extricate my fingers, and settle my hand atop one thigh, fingers slick with your desire.

The nurse whispers affirmation in your ear as I address the class. "Stimulation in this manner, of the two most sensitive sex stimuli, brings the most consistent and powerful orgasms to those possessing these organs." I stroke the inside of your thigh reassuringly, before turning to you.

"The final part of this examination is seeing how well you handle penetration. I'm going to need your unequivocal verbal consent before proceeding."

The nurse leans in and whispers into your ear, "might I suggest 'please, sir, will you fuck me?'" You'd blush harder if you could.

You swallow, nervously, and there's a twisting in your gut as you say it. "Please," you begin, voice cracking. "Please, sir, will you fuck me?"

"Yes, that is sufficient. I must say, though," I warn, unzipping my jeans, "that I am quite large." I slap my cock down on your tummy, and the sheer weight of it shocks you. You've seen size like this in porn, sure, but fuck, you've never touched something like this. When you tear your gaze away from my cock, I'm grinning down at you, predatory again. "You can back out at any time, you know." My voice is low, teasing, challenging. "Should we continue?"

You nod shakily, and spread your legs a little wider.

One hand on your raised knee, one hand guiding my cock, I push against you. For a moment you realize the exam had to be done in this order; if you weren't so fucking wet, there's no chance you'd be able to take me. But all thoughts are blasted out of your mind as I push harder and slide in.

It's so fucking thick that you can't help but groan. You've never felt so full, so strained inside, being pushed in every direction; you're not built for this, maybe there's just too much, your body is rejecting me - and then I push again, another few inches, and you slam your head back against the padded table, a long, drawn-out "fuuuuuck" wrenched from your lips. You feel my strong hands brace at your hips, and with a final thrust, slamming your cervix up into your guts, moving your entire body, the ridges of my cock sliding deeper and deeper, sliding painfully, pleasurably past your walls, I'm inside you.

The nurse rests her hands on you again, and purrs in your ear, "you're doing so well for him, I know it's hard, it's so hard, but you're doing such a good job, pretty girl..."

Glacially, I pull out, allowing you a moment to rest, before thrusting in again, hands still at your waist. You sob once, loudly, and then you sink into it as I pick up a rhythm, deep, deep strokes inside you. You hear me grunting, whispering something, and I grow more frantic, impaling you a little harder, and through the wall of pleasure you hear me rumble, "nurse V, begin the overstimulation procedure."

"Certainly, doctor." She leans over you, lips fiercely meeting yours, and one of those slender hands reaches down to abuse your clit. An image of those burgundy nails on your cunt flashes through your mind as I continue pounding you, forcing you to spread for me, adjust to me, even as the nurse plays your clit like an instrument, and fuck, she's a virtuoso.

You sing a song of moans and voiceless curses under our combined mastery, knowing your audience is entranced, filled with a blazing, lusty pride. The deep bass of my voice, resonant in your skull, is saying something, but you cannot hear me; you're moaning, groaning, pleading, "yes, yes, oh my god yes" over and over...

The song swells to a crescendo and with two sudden strikes, two powerful thrusts into you, it ends with a thick, hot, sticky white wave of my approval inside you. You feel it pulse deep, deep inside, filling you, load after load delivered straight past your bruised, abused cervix.

You come back to reality with my cum spilling from between your legs, trailing thickly down onto the exam table. I zip up my jeans while the nurse helps dry you off, from all the sweat and saliva. She dabs caringly at your mouth, and you notice that the cloth is dyed the same shade as her lipstick.

"Now," I address the class, "I hope you were paying attention." I rest one hand on your aching, trembling thigh. How many times did you cum with me inside you? How long were all these people watching you writhe beneath me, begging, losing yourself in the pleasure? You have no fucking clue. "This patient has bravely volunteered for each of you to examine her, here and now, while she's available to us."

Your jaw drops. When did you agree to that? You would never - but you were begging, "yes, yes, yes" earlier, weren't you, while I was talking. You agreed. Everyone heard you say it.

"One at a time, please. And," I say to you, grinning wolfishly, "don't worry. I'll be watching the entire time."

[slapmeshigaraki]

♡ i just feel like rafayel is greedy,, like he gets off on overstimulating you

“Baby, you have to keep your legs open for me.” You felt a pair of warm palms press against your flesh, gently forcing your thighs apart. His eyes were illuminated in the dark room, a calming sea of blue juxtaposed by the devious grin that tainted his angelic face. Your skin was slick with sweat, the sheets beneath you and the man between your legs both sticking to you like glue for the last few hours.

“Rafayel, I can’t take it anymore…” You whined as his fingertips dug into you, gripping you tightly enough to leave a mark.

“Aw, but it’s my birthday, angel. You promised me everything I wanted, didn’t you?” His voice was smooth and sweet like honey, but there was something hidden in his tone. You often wondered if Lemurians were like sirens, luring in their prey with their enchanting voices and seducing those that dared to look into their eyes before they enticed them out into the deep waters of the sea. A face as beautiful as his, but with such a devilish mind—he must’ve been a demon of some kind.

“I promised you anything that you wanted, not everything.”

“Eh you say tomato, I say come in my mouth again,” he said, full lips brushing against your most sensitive area. Your body tensed immediately, the overstimulation forcing your back to arch off of the mattress at the slightest touch. You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out, pressing your hand against his forehead, desperately trying to push him away. His slim fingers found yours, entangling one another before you could object again.

“Last time, I promise.” His tongue lightly flicked against your clit, a chaste pressed against you as your eyes locked with his. You pulled your gaze from his as he spoke for fear that if you looked too long that you'd be hypnotized again as you had been two hours ago when you’d made the initial promise.

“I just want to make sure I clean you up, yeah? This pretty pussy treated me so good tonight—" another kiss “made me cum so hard inside of her. Shouldn’t I at least get to kiss her goodnight, hm?” He wasn’t really asking what you thought, just waiting for you to tell him what he wanted to hear. You could hardly think straight as the heat between your legs built up once again with every light lick of his tongue against you, gently circling your entrance.

“Answer me. Don’t you want to make me happy one last time on my birthday?” You couldn’t help but bite your lip at the sound of his voice, pleading as you felt the tickle of his warm breath against you as he spoke. You were slowly losing the will to deny his wishes, falling under his trance as you always did.

“Yes, I want to make you happy…”

“Such a sweet baby I have. How could I not want to make her feel good?” He wasted no time now, tongue licking painfully slow between your slick lips, sucking lightly between soft kisses as your breathing quickened against your will. It wasn’t long before you tasted the metallic flavor of blood on your tongue from how hard you’d been biting your bottom lip, desperately trying to stifle your moans. You could feel your hole tightening from the pleasure, clenching around nothing, your thighs getting covered in your wetness with each passing second.

“Angel, your pussy is pushing all of my cum back out. Do you not want my babies inside of you anymore? I thought you wanted to be tied to me in every way possible…thought you were gonna be good for me.”

“I can’t help it. ‘M sorry, Rafayel.”

“How ungrateful you are and, on my birthday, too... I guess I’ll just have to push it all back inside then, won’t I?” A scream erupted from the depths of your throat as you felt his plush tongue stuffing itself between your walls, forcing through your entrance with ease. You tried to push against him with your free hand, but he trapped that one as well, holding both of your wrists away from him and leaving you completely vulnerable. The tip of his tongue slid in and out with ease, milking every bit of his cum out of you as he licked it off of your skin. Your thighs clamped around his head, restricting his movements before he pulled his mouth away from you, giving your aching hole a much-needed break before you got too close.

“We taste so sweet together baby, just like icing…” he said, slowly releasing your hand from his grip before sliding his thumb between your lips, eliciting another scream from you.

“Don’t you want to taste it?” His eyelids were low, the lower half of his face glistening with your juices. Your body was quickly growing too weak to protest. He took your silence as a yes, sliding his finger between your lips and against your tongue. You were intoxicated by the familiar taste of his cum and silenced by the weight of his finger in your mouth.

“Tell me you want me to make you cum again,” he said, barely above a whisper as he leaned back between your thighs, forcing them apart much more aggressively this time with his free hand. His full lips pressed against your skin, warmly blending with the overwhelming heat of your core.

“Nuh uh,” he said shaking his head, as your fingers moved to pull his from between your lips. “Say that you want me to make this pretty pussy cum with my thumb in your mouth.”

“Please make me cum,” You muffled out against his skin, tears pricking the inner corners of your eyes at the overstimulation as two of his fingers found your sensitive entrance.

“Good girl. My good pretty girl with the achy pussy. Don’t worry baby, I’ll help you. I'll kiss her all better, yeah?” Your cunt’s resolve was as weak as your own, not bothering to put up a fight and letting his digits in with ease. Rafayel knew every inch of your body as if he owned it because he truly believed that he did. He would ask just to watch you play with yourself in front of him, hungry eyes studying every gasp, every quiver, every twitch time and time again until he knew your body better than you did. He curled his fingers up, hitting the fleshy part inside of you that made your eyes roll into the back of your head as you moaned out against his thumb.

“You’re doing such a good job for me, my angel—lettin’ me in so nicely.” His pace quickened now, fingers slamming against your g-spot over and over again as you screamed his name unabashedly.

“That’s what I like to hear, such a sweet song from my angel. Cum for me sweet girl. Come on, let go for me one last time. You can do it, I know you can. Be good for me, baby.” So you did. Your thighs clenched one last time, back writing against the mattress, eyes shutting tight as the tears finally flowed freely, the sensation overwhelming every single one of your senses. His fingers slowed down, stalling their movements as he worked you through the orgasm.

“I guess you ended up giving me everything I wanted after all, huh angel?” He said, slowly pulling himself out of both of your holes before pressing gentle kissing all the way up your body, saving the final one for your lips.

“Happy birthday, you demon.” That same greedy grin spread across his face, as he pressed his forehead against yours, both of your bodies slick with each other.

“Thank you, my angel.”

♡ last post for a little minute,, since this is the last little thing i had in the drafts. buttttt today is valentine's day !!! i hope everyone enjoyed themselves,, if u care i did a little self care day and went out with my mom and aunt. it was quite niceeeeee :))) enjoy the rest of your week, pretties <333

[rosenclaws]

worst logan gets a taste of everything he's been missing and can't get enough.

warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, fem!reader, pussy eating, overstimulation, fingering, desperate logan

You never could have predicted this is how Logan would be. The “worst” Logan as they called him, was nothing but foul mouthed, angry, and drunk. At least he was when you met him. You never would have thought he could be this desperate, this needy. Craving touch he had missed for so many years.

“Logan,” You sigh as you tilt your head back.

You're laying in his bed, hands gripping at his pillows. He has you pinned to the bed. He couldn't hold back his crazy strength if he tried. He was too far gone. His head buried in your thighs. Legs pushed apart by his wide shoulders, a dull ache in your thighs as he stretches them a little more.

"Fuck you're hot." Logan mumbles against your thigh.

For the last...who fucking knows how long anymore, he's been feasting. His tongue lazily lapping at your cunt. No matter how much he drinks he just can't get enough. His hands lay on your stomach, pinning you down from squirming.

This is his breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Your hips buck as his tongue traces your poor, sore clit. His beard brushing up against it. Your eyes widen as he growls, actually growls.

"Come on baby, be nice and let me eat your pussy." You moan loudly as he dives back in. You watch his back muscles move as he gets up on his knees, pushing your thighs apart as he buries his tongue inside of you. You're too wrapped up in pleasure to feel his fingers drift down.

"Nice and wet for me." Logan says in awe as he slips two fingers in with ease.

"Fuck!" You hiss as you try to move your hips.

He's overloading your senses. His hands, his tongue, even the fucking pillows smell like him. He's invading every little bit of your mind. Logan tightens his grip on you, pulling you closer to his face if that was even possible.

"Just a little more baby, please I need to taste you." Your hands reach for his wrist. Digging your nails deep into his skin.

"Perfect, fuck your perfect." He stands a little taller on his knees as he starts to piston his fingers harder. Absolutely obscene noises fill the room as he laps up every drop that spills from your pussy. His other thumb puts pressure on your clit, moving back and forth in a tight but brutal pace.

"Logan please-oh fuck- I can't!" His eyes are blown wide with lust as he stares at your face. Taking joy in watching you fight the pleasure he's giving you. He lifts his face and licks his lips. Messy beard and wet lips.

"Come for me one more time." He purrs.

“Just let that pretty head of yours stop thinking.” He kisses down your legs. He purrs as you reach and grab his hair.

“That’s it baby,” Your mind melts as you let go of any thought as Logan brings you over the edge. He takes his fingers out, licking them clean before dipping back down to work you through your orgasm.

His arms wrapping around you waist as you squirm and shake below him. Logan coos sweet nothings as he kisses along your body. Your grip on his sheets loosen as your body shakes. Nothing but pure, blissful pleasure fills your body but so does exhaustion. You gasp loudly as you feel Logan’s tongue lick up your cunt again.

“Just a little more please baby, please.” He begs desperately. “Just a little longer,” You lay your head back onto the pillows, a smile on your face as you nod your head.

“Fuck you’re perfect,” He purrs, a soft look in his eyes as he dives back down into your cunt.

“My perfect girl.”

[sleepymarimo]

toji x reader // sfw!

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 doesn’t remember the last time he was gifted something.

“you got me what?” he asks again, kicking his sandals off at your front door for what seems like the millionth time.

you rise from your couch, the wood creaking slightly as you do so. “just some stuff for you to keep here so you stop using mine,” you reply, the shrug of your shoulders indicating how little of a deal it is.

in the kitchen, you rinse out the glass you’d been using. toji’s footsteps are barely audible over the sound of running water.

“there’s a few pairs of sweats in the hall closet,” you tell him, setting the glass down to dry. “and some other stuff in the bathroom. shampoo, body wash, toothbrush…”

the assassin lets out a small huff, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway. “you tellin’ me i reek or something?” he accuses, more so to brush off the odd feeling building in his gut.

“maybe.” comes your playful quip, your head tilting as you rest your weight on the counter and look at him. “but seriously, you just come around so often,”- his nose wrinkles at that, as he knows he crashes here much more than he should- “that i figured i’d just get you your own things. it’s not like it cost me an arm and a leg.”

with a yawn you stroll toward your room, lightly poking his chest as you pass him. “plus, you use up all of my stuff, dummy.”

he grunts, his eyes following you until you’re out of sight. “i don’t need fancy clothes or any of that crap,” he murmurs to himself, taking a few steps toward the hall closet.

his large hands wrap around the handles, sliding the doors open until he sees a pile of clothes resting on one of the shelves. three black tees stacked atop three pairs of sweats, some boxers and socks in a little box, all for him.

he picks up a shirt without hesitation, the fabric smooth against his calloused fingers. his brows furrow in concentration, maybe unease. this is for him, it’s his, and maybe that’s why this shirt is the softest one he’s ever felt.

with a gruff exhale, he snatches a pair of sweats and a clean pair of boxers, his steps unhurried as he heads for the bathroom.

the fan hums above him as the lock clicks into place, his eyes immediately darting to the shelves to see the new toiletries. his stuff.

inside the shower, toji’s shoulders sag.

it’s as if the water is washing away his defenses, the rugged, nonchalant exterior he wears now melting away in the comfort of your shower.

toji pops open one of the new shampoo bottles, taking in the scent and pouring it onto his palm. he wonders if this smell reminds you of him, if you put some thought into each item.

while he rubs it into his hair, he thinks about if he should pay you back. it’s not like he asked you to get him all this stuff, but still.

even when you’d first started letting him crash on your couch, you hadn’t demanded much in return.

“just don’t make a big mess and be decent, alright?” he remembers you saying.

and he was just fine with that. free room and board just for something so simple? he’d be a moron to decline.

it was only after around a week that he felt a familiar itch. he wouldn’t be in your debt, wouldn’t wait for the day when you’d inevitably ask for something.

so, he offered what he always did- himself. that’s what women usually wanted from him, anyway.

his idea didn’t exactly go as planned. if anything, it made him feel more conflicted, made him wonder why the hell you kept him around.

were you just lonely? did you enjoy his company?

“oh, no… i don’t do that,” you’d said, holding your hands up, flustered but adamant. “you don’t have to sell yourself to me or anything. who does that? like, what?”

the water patters on the tile floor, his body and mind feeling more clear and clean than they’ve been in a long time.

when the faucet squeaks shut, he steps out and snorts as he sees a new, fluffy black towel hanging beside yours behind the bathroom door. he grabs it, rubbing his scarred skin dry and running it through the damp strands of his hair.

the new clothes feel like heaven, truly.

in your room, engrossed by your phone, you barely hear the sound of the bathroom door opening. toji’s steps are almost silent, his arms crossing over his chest as he watches you beneath the covers.

he’s amused as you snicker at some post, the dim screen lighting up your face in the otherwise dark room.

“let me crash here, yeah?” he suggests, though it’s more of an order.

you’re startled, rightfully so, hiding your phone against your chest while you sit up straighter. “oh, you scared me! new clothes and you think you’re all that, huh? too good for the couch?”

yet, even as you chide him, you’re peeling back the covers for him, grabbing the extra pillows and moving them out of the way.

a satisfied grunt leaves him as he spreads out on the mattress, careless of the space he takes up. he tugs the blankets over his person, settling in like a big cat.

he curls into you. you don’t mind.

while you scroll along with one hand, the other supports his head and absentmindedly strokes the skin of his cheek.

his eyes watch you, his breaths becoming more steady and even. he’d never admit how much it means to him that you’d gotten him new clothes, new toiletries, practically a new home.

it’s more than he deserves, but he finds himself wanting to take as much as he can get.

he’s yours, even if he doesn’t know it. and, as the days go by, he wonders if you can be his, too.

[strang3lov3]

Lie to Me

Joel catches you red handed (3.7k)

Tags- dark!joel, i think we should call him darkdaddy!joel all in favor say aye, one shot, smut, dubcon, just the tip, oral sex (f! receiving) fingering, come shot, comeplay, overstim, handjob, coercion, masturbation, daddy kink, innocence kink, inexperienced/virgin!reader, biiiig girthy yet unspecified (legal☝️) age gap, weird feelings and some good ol' fashioned shame, hitting, implied abuse, Joel is fatherly in a hot and disgusting way, calls himself 'your old man', gratuitous use of the nicknames kiddo and pumpkin, Depeche Mode references because you can’t stop me. Balanced mix of Joel being mean and tender.

A/N - been a while since we’ve seen this guy, huh? Everyone give him your warmest welcome <3 i wanted to warm up with him before getting started on this joel's whole story so, here it is. and I am FINALLY done with this semester, so for about a month you’re gonna get a heavy fucking dose of strang3lov3. Apologies in advance. @endlessthxxghts, you know what you did you sick fuck. thank youuuuuu ♡ and thank you @beefrobeefcal for your eyes!

The warm bath Joel gives you each night is your favorite part of the day. Always. Washing it all away, both the good and the bad. All that dirt swirling down the drain. The delicate soap, the tingling when the water is a little too hot. Bath time is quiet. Joel doesn’t talk much, and neither do you. And he’s gentle, gentle as he washes you. Tender hands rubbing your skin, mindful of the bruises and contusions and the scratches and scrapes he leaves you. He tells you he doesn’t like to hurt you, but that you leave him no choice when you disobey the way you do. 

After helping you out of the tub, Joel thoroughly dries you off with a clean yellow towel. He’s a little rough as he does it, rubbing your skin too hard, tugging at your hair as he squeezes out the water. “Joel,” you whine. 

“I know, I know. M’tryin’ to be gentle,” he says. “You’re tender-headed. Makes my job difficult.”

“You always call me difficult.”

“‘Cause you are difficult, pumpkin. Challenging. Got my work cut out with you.”

You shiver when Joel hangs your towel back up. He unscrews the lid of a container of lotion, scooping out a generous amount. He rubs the cold cream into your skin, up and down your arms and legs. You’re not such a big fan of this part. “It’s cold, Daddy.”

“Sorry, kid. Nothin’ much I can do about that,” Joel replies.  

“Could warm it in your hands.”

Joel eyes you, brow raised. You’re testing him. He knows to expect it, you pushing his buttons. “And you could grow some thicker skin.” 

After moisturizing your skin, Joel reaches in the cabinet for a tube antibiotic cream and dabs a bit on each of your wounds, rubbing the ointment in. “Yeah…they’re healin’ up good,” he murmurs. “Be gone in no time. Alright now, sweetheart. Bedtime.”

Joel lightly swats your ass and sends you to your room, following closely behind you. His knees crack more frequently with his steps, fuck, he’s getting old. 

You bounce on the bed as Joel opens a drawer of your dresser, pulling out different pajama sets. “Let’s see what we got here,” Joel says, more to himself than to you. He shows you both options, “Blue stripes or green plaid.”

“That’s not green,” you point out, “That’s teal.”

“Mm. Clever, smartass. Now pick.”

“Neither. I wanna wear one of your shirts.”

Trouble. You know exactly which strings to pull with Joel wrapped around your finger. He rolls his eyes, biting down on a smile as he puts both pajama sets in your dresser and leaves to fetch you one of his t-shirts. “Arms up,” he tells you as he returns. “You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

Joel pulls the shirt over your head, the fabric covering just enough of your body to keep you decent. You pull back the quilt on your bed and slip under it, and wrap a plush blanket around your shoulders. 

“Scoot.” Joel sits right next to you, the springs of the bed groaning and creaking with his weight. “God dammit,” he hisses, adjusting for his sore back. Joel reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out his slightly crooked reading glasses to put them on, annoyed at the way they never sit quite right on his face. He runs a hand through his graying curls, then turns on your lamp and reaches for the book he’s been reading you. He uses the dog-eared page to find his place in the book, something that makes you cringe. “I don’t like when you do that,” you tell him. 

“Do what?”

“Fold the pages.”

“You sound like the librarian,” Joel jokes. “Why don’t I find you some paints or somethin’ and you make me a pretty bookmark then, deal?”

“Deal.”

“Whatcha gonna paint for me?” Joel waits for your response, peering down at you as he pushes a bit of hair out of your face. “Don’t know yet?”

“Mm-mm.”

“S’okay. You got time to decide.”

Joel begins reading to you, making sure you’re following along with him. You rest your head on his strong bicep, your hands wrapped around his forearm. You trace the veins there, counting the scars and marks on his skin. His hands are so weathered and large. 

When Joel finishes the chapter, he closes the book, this time putting a penny between the pages to hold his place instead of folding the corners down. “We’ll read more tomorrow. Maybe watch a movie instead,” he offers. Joel puts his massive, warm hand against your cheek and pulls your head towards him, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then both of your cheeks, then the tip of your nose. “Get some sleep, pumpkin.”

Joel leaves then, shutting your door but not before turning on your nightlight. You miss his warmth immediately, the weight of him on the bed with you. He didn’t make you finish tonight, either. You’re sort of…itching for it, like you didn’t know how much you need it until now that it’s out of reach. 

You’re not supposed to do it on your own. Joel says you don’t know what you’re doing, that only he can touch you there, be it his fingers or his tongue. But you’ve touched yourself there on your own before, and it felt good. Not as good when Joel does it, but almost the same. 

You spread your legs wide, your hand going straight for your clit only for a moment, then bringing your fingers to your mouth to spit on them, just how Joel does. You reach for your pussy again, rubbing tight circles into your clit. 

It feels okay. Fine. You close your eyes, focusing on the small amount of pleasure you feel. Picturing things you find erotic, like the romance books you read in without Joel’s knowledge or Uncle Tommy, Joel’s brother. It makes you feel a little guilty to fantasize about him like this, but it feels thrilling, too. A special, private secret only you know about. 

You hold your breath as you work yourself, alternating between clockwise and counterclockwise circles in an attempt to determine which way feels better. Which direction does Joel do it? You spread your legs wider, testing out bigger and smaller circles. It’s been maybe five minutes maximum, and you’re feeling impatient. That’s another thing Joel tells you that you are, along with being difficult. Impatient. Stubborn, too. 

Joel pushes his fingers inside you when he makes you come, so you try doing that to yourself. Nothing much happens when you do it, sort of like when you try to tickle yourself. Your fingers aren’t as thick, as long, as deft as Joel’s are. But you try all the same. 

Whining, whimpering Joel’s name, the squeaking of the bed while you rock your hips into your own hand, Joel hears it all on the baby monitor hidden in your room. Broken moans in the crackling static. 

He’s only curious, wanting to measure your self control, if you even have any. You know you’re not supposed to be doing this and yet, you’re doing it anyway. Defiant. He gives you an inch and you take a mile, every single time. Always touching what’s forbidden to you, be it the handle of a door left unlocked or your own cunt. 

Maybe he’s gone soft. Maybe Joel’s too easy on you. He doesn’t like to punish you, but what else can he do when you leave him no choice? 

In truth, Joel likes this about you. It’s the thrill of the hunt, the game. And when his fingers are inside you, despite all that whimpering and crying, what’s really there? Arousal pooled at your entrance, twitching thighs and moans you do your very best to swallow. You’re all bark, no bite. You like it this way. His way. You just need a little guidance. 

Joel listens to you fuck yourself on your fingers for a little while longer, palm pressed against his bulge as your frustrated noises pour in through that tinny speaker. He understands, truly. Can’t sleep without orgasming - he can’t either, for fuck’s sake. He’ll be listening to you all night if he doesn’t make you come soon. And therein lies the problem - Joel gives in too much. He’s spoiled you rotten. 

Joel gets up and out of bed, takes heavy steps toward your bedroom. He can practically see you behind that oak door even before opening it - legs spread beneath the quilt, brow pinched together as you huff and pant in both frustration and focus. 

Joel twists your door knob slowly, and silently pushes the door in. He takes the quietest of steps toward your bed, standing above you with his arms crossed over his chest as he stares down at you. You look just as wrecked as he predicted. 

“Psst.” 

You freeze, eyelids flying open to see Joel glaring at you in the dark, his features harsh under the lack of light. You quickly move your hand-

“Nuh-uh, don’t you move,” Joel interrupts. “What’re you doin’ up so late? S’well fuckin’ past your bedtime, young lady.” 

“I’m not-”

“Think it through. You really wanna lie to me? Even after what happened to ya the last time you pulled that shit?”

Your cheeks heat up, your hands shaking. “I’m…uh…” your voice wobbles, you swallow thickly. 

“Spit it out.” 

“I’m touching myself.”

“I see that,” is all Joel replies. A silence hangs as you wait for him to continue. The ticking clock sounds louder, the groaning wind against your window. “But you know you ain’t s’posed to be doin’ yourself, kiddo. We talked about this. S’the rules, right?”

“Right,” you whisper. 

Joel nods, biting his inner cheek as he sits down on your bed, holding one of your feet through the quilt. “You’ve got quite the tendency of disobeying your daddy, you know. What’m I gonna do with you?”

You shrug and turn away from him to avoid his disappointed expression. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I just thought you forgot to make me come tonight, daddy, but I needed it. Please don’t be mad at me right now. I’m really sorry.” 

Your apology tugs at Joel’s heartstrings. “Got me wrapped around your fuckin’ finger,” he groans, rubbing his large hand up and down your leg. “You win, kid. I’ll let it slide. But you promise me it won’t happen again, ‘cause I don’t like havin’ to punish you.”   

“I promise.”

“Attagirl,” Joel whispers, smiling at you. He leans forward to press a kiss against your forehead, his wiry facial hair both scratches and tickles your skin. “Alright, now. Let’s see what you’re workin’ with,” he says, folding your quilt down your torso, and bunching it at the end of your bed. “Sounded like you were havin’ trouble, hm? S’that right?”

Joel doesn’t have to wait for your answer to know the truth. He pulls your hands away from your center, fingertips pruned and slick with your arousal. “Oh, pumpkin,” he tsks. “Look at the mess you made.” 

He spreads your legs far apart and sits between them, then licks one of his thumbs and brings it to your core. He slides the digit up and down your folds, circling your clit here and there. “Joel,” you whine breathlessly. 

“I know, I know, I know. Poor thing. You’re all outta sorts, huh?” he coos. “Gimme your hand. You don’t know what you’re doin’ at all.”

You hold your hand in front of yourself. Joel takes it, sucking on your fingers, growling at the taste of your wet before lowering it to your pussy. “Gotta give her a bit of finesse,” Joel instructs, dragging your fingers up and down your folds, just how he did with his own fingers. “Can’t dive right in. Gotta work up to it. See?” 

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Am I doing it right? Like?”

“Yeah, jus’ like that. Give her a lil’ more, now. Rub that clit. Gentle, steady,” he directs, helping you to touch yourself. It fills him with a primal sort of power, being able to instruct you how to best touch yourself, knowing you’ll never be able to replicate his perfection. “Nice an’ slow, now. That’s it. Nope, slow it down,” he reminds you. 

You whine his name, frustrated with how long this is taking. “It’s not - it’s not working.”

“Easy, sweetheart, I know you’re hurtin’. M’only tryin’ to help,” he says. “Gotta work on that attitude.”

You speed up your ministrations, frantically chasing a release that is painfully out of reach. Joel swats your bare thigh, a warning. “Gotta breathe,” Joel advises you. “Can’t force it. Let it come to ya.”

“I’m try-”

“I know you’re tryin’.”

Your tummy rises and falls with your uneven breaths, fingers slipping on your wet heat. You can’t seem to find the right pace to rock your hips at, and you’re biting your lips raw to conceal the words threatening to spill that Joel doesn’t let you speak. 

“Alright, enough of that.” Joel pushes your hand away, and you cry in frustration. “You’re hurtin’ her. Daddy’s gonna take care of this now,” he whispers more to himself than to you, lowering his body. His hot breath fans over your slick cunt as he puts both of his wide, meaty hands on the backs of your thighs, opening you up wide for him. Poor fucking pussy, all swollen and throbbing and aching. Joel swallows hard and presses his lips against your folds, mumbling, “Gonna kiss her all better,” he says.

He begins with kisses, kissing your lips, nipping at your inner thighs. You’re dripping, leaving a puddle of arousal on the sheets. Joel can feel the heat radiating from your sex, how you vibrate with a need only Joel can satisfy. He squeezes the generous flesh of your thighs with his fingertips harshly, just shy of bruising you. Though he could, if he wanted to. But he is curious what your skin looks like unblemished by his violence. 

With a flattened tongue, Joel licks a long stripe from the bottom of your slit right to the top, rounding your clit before repeating the action. The room is quiet, save for the way Joel breathes steadily in and out of his nose that’s pressed against you, teasing you. And your quiet moans, sweet little whimpering noises spilling from your lips with every exhale. 

Joel circles your entrance all wet and sloppily, taking care to press a couple of more kisses against your folds before dipping his tongue inside you, tasting your arousal from the hole it drips from. 

“Oh, fuck,” you whisper. 

“Hey.” he swats your ass cheek. “Is that how good girls are s’posed to use their mouths? Hm?”

“No, daddy.”

“Uh-huh. ‘Cause those pretty lips of yours are for kissin’ daddy’s cock. Right?” 

“R- yeah. M’sorry.”

After chastising you for swearing, Joel dives right back in. Your hands find Joel’s scalp so you can tug on his hair, twirling your fingers around those silvery curls. The action makes Joel smile. God, your innocence. 

He licks at your slick folds, sucking one into your mouth and then the other, neglecting the little part of you that needs him the most. He savors you like this, the scent of your musk, your arousal like honey on his tongue. When you’ve soaked his face, when your thighs are twitching under his wide palms, only then does Joel circle your clit. You shake and shudder, muscles straining under Joel’s grip as he forces you to stay wide open to eat the most sensitive piece of you. You’re dripping wet, clit throbbing and pulsing under his tongue. “Focus right here, pumpkin,” he murmurs, reaching up to grab your chin and tilt your face down. “Daddy wants to see his favorite eyes.” 

Once you nod, Joel lets his hand trail back down your body. Instead of using it to hold you open, he turns his head to the side and brings two calloused fingers to his mouth, soaking them in his saliva before pushing them into your entrance. He curls them against the spongy spot inside you, its location is committed to his memory. You dance on his tongue, squirming and whining and writhing as he works you with his fingers. Joel pulling your strings, watching how you move. You’ll do anything.

“Yeah, daddy’s fingers do it better, huh?” he taunts. “Poor girl.”

God, it’s hard for Joel to eat you in the way he knows he should. It’s meant to be an act of love and it certainly is in some ways, sure it is. But really, it’s all for Joel. It’s all selfish, voraciously consuming you like you’re the first meal he’s seen in days, biting at your flesh like he means to tear it off the bone. His tongue laves over your sex, wiry beard rubbing your inner thighs raw - he’ll put ointment on your skin there, too, to calm down the irritation. 

He strokes that sweet spot inside of you with his fingers, pleasure building quickly. It blooms deep in your gut, roiling up your spine and down your legs. “Oh, Joel,” you moan, babbling incoherently. “Oh, f- oh…” 

The wet, sticky noises as you’re kissed, licked, sucked, lapped at, teased, stroked. The quiet as release approaches - holding your breath, muscles tightening, a pressure building. And then oh, there it is, there you are. Coming on Joel’s tongue, gushing into his hand. 

Joel licks his palm, then sits back up. He sets your feet back down on the bed, mindful of your achy thighs. Your moans have quieted, replaced with peaceful breaths as you lie with your eyes closed. “Nuh-uh, I ain’t finished with you quite yet,” Joel says, lightly smacking your cheek to wake you up. “You know the drill. You get yours and daddy gets his.”

Slotted between your legs, Joel kneels then, knees cracking as they press into the plush of your mattress. He pulls the string of his worn-out pajama pants and pushes the waistband down, and his hard cock lands against his tummy with a smack. “Gimme a hand, pumpkin,” he says, and you hold out your hand for him. He spits into your palm, then wraps your fingers around his thick shaft. “All the way up an’ all the down,” he reminds you. “Jus’ like I showed ya.”

Joel leans over you as you begin stroking him, gliding your palm up and down his length. 

“Tighter,” he says, reaching between your bodies to squeeze your hand tight. He keeps his hand there as you work him, keeping the pressure to his liking. “Attagirl.”

He works a twist into the motion now, bucking his hips into your hand. You admire the look of his soft tummy, the gray and white hairs smattered around the base of his cock. Joel’s cock pulses under your touch, in time with his beating heart. Tip red and swollen, aching for more, more…

Joel presses his forehead against yours and drops lower, taking control of the moment. With your hand still under his and holding his stiff length, Joel guides the tip of himself to your slit. He groans when the head meets your pussy, the warmth and the wetness. He lowers himself, the end of his cock prodding right at your entrance. “I think you’re ready for it,” he tells you, notching the tip inside. 

Your heart pounds, and you put a hand against Joel’s chest. “N-no, not yet, daddy.” 

“Toughen up, kid,” he urges, pushing in a little bit further, then pulling it out again. “Gotta rip that bandaid off sometime. Gonna let me do it?” Joel taunts you with the threat of fully penetrating you, dragging the tip of his cock up and down your folds, fitting it inside your tight entrance before pulling it out again. “On three. One, two…”

You shake your head.

Joel sighs deeply. “You’re breakin’ your daddy’s heart, pumpkin. I hope you know that.”

But it doesn’t change your mind. Joel tsks, then goes right back to fucking the head of his cock on your vulva. He focuses less on getting himself off, but rather getting you off again. Rubbing the blunt head of his cock against your still-sensitive clit, tapping it momentarily before rubbing it in the opposite direction. 

You breathe heavily and shakily, “T-too much,” you say. 

“Y’wanted to come bad enough you broke the rules for it,” Joel replies in a calm voice. “You’re givin’ me another, jus’ like this, and you’re gonna say ‘thank you, daddy’ when it’s over.”

He pushes his pelvis forward and resumes teasing your clit, moving the head of his cock in circles around your clit, causing you to twitch at the sensation. A quick dip inside your cunt and then he’s doing it again, but rubbing left to right. Like the good girl you are, you rock your hips in time with his movements, moaning as the pleasure builds once more. Joel coaxes one last orgasm from you, leaving you a twitching, throbbing mess. “What do you say?”

“Thank you, daddy,” you whisper. 

Joel kisses your forehead and allows you to relax on the pillows as he works himself, still using your hand. He breathes heavily, grunting and groaning as he quickens the way he pumps himself, thumb swiping over the head and the underside of his cock where he’s most sensitive. The pressure builds deep in his gut, just as it did yours, and his balls tighten. His brows knit together and he grits his teeth as he comes, growling as he paints his spend onto your sex. “Oh, Christ. Goddamn, fuck. Yeah,” he breathes, gathering his come onto the tip of his cock, then pushes it inside you before he softens. “You’re a good kid,” he tells you. “Good girl. Good girl, pumpkin.”

-

more dark daddy!joel here

If you enjoyed, please reblog with kind thoughts and consider sending an ask 🩷💜 your sweet words go so far in keeping me motivated and I love when you help this blog feel like a community

Kitty gifs instead of pics for you today I hope that’s allowed 🥹

[limyted]

“You Called My Liege?”

Yandere King x Jester! GN Reader

Tw: Dubcon/non-con,, obsessive,, possessive,, controlling,, NSFW.,, ALL CHARACTERS 18+ PLEASE.

Words: 1.6k words

Yandere Prince! Who had first seen you when you had walked in with you dad, your family had been a family of Jesters for the Royal Family for centuries for now.

Yandere Prince! Who met you when his father has introduced you two to each other, explaining that you will be his Jester when he is the future King, with that a bond had started to grow between you too.

Yandere Prince! Who has always been blunt, stoic and short tempered, but when being around your cheeky and playful personality and eventually his stiff personality melts away and welcomes you, soon enough you two would play around places around the Palace whenever your dad was called upon by his father.

Yandere Prince! Who killed his father when he had suggested that he was just maybe too close with his Jester, that it was inappropriate to be friends with his Jester. Who did his father think he was telling him what to do with HIS Jester?

He dropped the blooded sword, as he kicked the former king's head away from him.

“Clean this up.” he lazily gazed into the dreary eyes of his father, his voice devoid of any guilt or remorse.

“Burn the body and fetch me my jester.” A small smile spreading across his features at the thought of you as he pushed past the stunned maids who hurriedly obeyed, they wouldn't want face the wrath of the kings short temper.

Yandere Prince! Who has you by his side the whole coronation, and he gets a thrill when you called him “My Liege” for the first time.

Your skin warm from laying on grass, sun blazing on your skin, hands intertwined with the teenage future king, he was squeezing your hand as if trying to keep you from running away from him, but you decided not to pay it any mind.

You felt a slight tug, and you hummed softly.

“I don't wanna marry someone I don't know or even love,” He said, frustration and exasperation laced in his voice “but my father insisted it was a necessity for the economy of our kingdom.”

“If it's an economic boost you need, why not hold a royal jousting tournament?” You said softly chuckling at your own joke “Loser buys dinner... or a bride”

He looked at you deadpanned, you softly rolled your eyes.

“Who would you even marry?” You teased him softly “I don't know of anyone you fancy.”

“Are you sure?” He questioned, as he put his hand on your chin tilting it to face him. “But to answer your question, My fool, you would be my bride.”

You weren't really sure if the king was joking or not, so you had changed the subject instead.

As you walked down the halls of the Jesters towers, the king had requested for you the usual spot, the throne room, a room you've grown very accustomed to.

The door to the room had no guards protecting it, so you had entered. There sat the king on his righteous throne, his hand resting in his chin and legs crossed, clearly in deep thought.

“You called My Liege?” You said as you bowed, dipping low and a playful smile on your face. The king who's eyes now locked with yours, had merely patted the arm rail of his throne, you obliged.

“Tell me..” he says as he snakes his arm loosely around your waist, shifting in his seat to be closer with you.

You hummed lightly, it wasn't weird that the king was being so … affectionate, he'd always wanted to be close with you.

“Do you recall when I told you that I would make you my bride?” He asked, with a tone unrecognisable to you.

“Oh your little quip?” You answered, focusing on his thumb rubbing your waist slowly, his hand slowly making its way down.

He let out a lifeless, breathy snicker, “I do not jest, that is your job.”

!!Nsfw!!

He lifts you up, placing you on his lap, rocking you back and forth, you can feel his hardened cock against your entrance.

“But if you're going to be my bride, I need everyone to know you’re mine.” He said as he digs his hands into your waist.

“I think it's better to marry someone who..” You pause, as you try to squirm off his lap, but he holds you down, “Is more equipped to be a monarch.”

“You'd make a perfect spouse for me” He says as kisses and bites your neck, as he rips your clothes off your body, the cold air hitting your skin, makes you shiver.

You let out a soft gasp at the feeling of him biting your neck. “I'm gonna have to stretch you out,” He says as pushes two fingers into and you gasp loudly, pushing yourself against his chest.

With every sweet sound you let out he can feel his cock and precum coating his undergarments, he pumps his fingers roughly.

“Wow, you must really want to be filled, your greedy hole is taking my fingers so well,” He says as he picks up the pace of his fingers “has someone ever pleasured you so well?”

You already feel your climax close, but he pulls his fingers out “You don't release unless I tell you too, My Fool.”

You whine at the emptiness that fills you now. “Stand.” Nothing but hunger in voice, afraid you obey, you had seen what he was capable of with his sword.

He took off his clothing as you, his long and hard cock, throbbing and the tip glistening with precum.

He had grabbed you and bent you over the very same arm rail you sat on, he slowly pushed himself into your hole, grabbing a handful of your ass and giving it a hard slap, his hands travelling from your ass to your hip, letting out a loud groan.

“Oh fuck, you feel just right, your hole wraps around me so perfectly” he said with a dreamy like voice.

“What about the maids and butlers, I don't wanna be seen in this case” you said trying to bite back the moans that are bubbling in your throat.

“If they even dare to look, I'll kill them, your body is only for my eyes,” He says, thrusting deeply into you at every word he says, unable to keep your moans anymore, you let out loud moans that fill the room and his groans as well.

With each deep thrust you feel your climax closing in, and you can tell he is too with his fastened pace and his balls slapping your skin.

“Please cum with me, please, please, please” he whines and pants as he trails his hands up your back and pulls you as you both release, you relax as his semen feels warm.

The King picks you up, his hard cock still twitching inside you, and puts you on the throne.

“I'm not finished, My Darling.”

[lov3notts]

End Zone

cheerleading!reader x quidditchplayer!theo

summary: theo gets jealous during his game when he sees Cedric flirting with you. also based on this request

warning: toxic theo, jealousy, unprotected, praising& degrading, creampie, locker room??

a/n: my first request, struggled a lot with this but its done!! I will most likely be MIA due to finals but hopefully I'll have something up for Christmas? enjoy :)

18+only: minors don’t interact

Navigation; masterlist; request rules

The game is in full swing, the stands packed with cheering fans. You're on the sidelines with your cheer squad, leading the crowd in chants and cheers. The adrenaline is pumping through your veins, your body moving in perfect sync with your teammates.

Suddenly, a Slytherin player scores a goal, and the crowd goes wild. In the commotion, Theo makes his way over to the sidelines, Theo zooms past on his broom, he catches your eye and grins, winking at you flirtatiously. You roll your eyes and turn away, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. 

You've been hooking up with Theo for months now, but he refuses to commit to anything more than casual sex. It's starting to wear on you, the constant string of mixed signals and empty promises.

As you continue your routine, you can't shake the feeling of Theodore's eyes on you. His presence is like a physical force, drawing your attention even as you try to focus on the game. 

The match continues, the score seesawing back and forth, but your mind isn’t focused on the game

you're so lost in thought that you barely register the game going on above you. 

your eyes are focused on the ground, your mind wandering to places you’d rather not go. It's only when you feel a tap on your shoulder that you snap back to reality

Theo soars through the air, the wind whipping at his face, he spots you on the sidelines, distracted but still cheering and swaying your pom-poms. But it's not just your lack of enthusiasm that catches his eye - it's the tall, handsome figure standing beside you, the one with the easy grin and the sparkle in his eye.

Cedric Diggory.

you turn to see Cedric standing beside you, sending a friendly smile.

"Hey there," he says, his Hufflepuff uniform looking crisp and clean despite the intense game.

"Hey, Cedric" you reply, returning his smile. You two make small talk for a few minutes, discussing the game and your respective teams. Cedric is charming and attentive, his blue eyes sparkling with warmth as he listens intently to every word you say.

"I noticed Nott seems to be playing extra hard today. Must be all that pent-up energy from studying for exams." cedric says as he leans closer to you

you chuckle at his joke “yeah, exams”

Theo's grip tightens on his broomstick, his knuckles turning white. He watches as Cedric leans in close, saying something that makes you laugh. The sound of your laughter cuts through the roar of the crowd, piercing Theo's heart like a Bludger.

Jealousy surges through his veins, hot and bitter. Theo's gaze burns into the back of your neck, and you can practically feel the waves of jealousy radiating off him. He plays more aggressively than ever, his broom dipping and weaving as he tries to outmaneuver the ravenclaw team.

His grip tightens on his broom handle as he zooms past the stands, his mind racing.

He knows he has no right to be jealous, not after he told you he didn’t want anything serious. But seeing you with someone else, laughing and smiling like that, it's like a punch to the gut. He wants to march over there and tear Cedric away from you, to remind you that you belong to him.

You can't help but notice Theo’s intense gaze locked on you and Cedric as you chat on the sidelines. Even from across the pitch, you can see the jealousy burning in Theo's eyes, the way his jaw clenched as he watches Cedric lean in close to hear you over the roar of the crowd.

A part of you feels a thrill at seeing Theo so clearly affected by your interaction with another guy. It's a power trip, knowing that you have that kind of hold over him. Theo zips past the other players, his broomstick cutting through the air like a knife. There's a wildness to his flying, a recklessness that both thrills and terrifies you.

you bite your lip, torn between wanting to reassure Theo that there's nothing going on between Cedric and you, and the desire to let him stew in his jealousy a little longer. It's petty, you know, but seeing him so worked up over you is intoxicating.

In the end, you decided to play it cool, focusing your attention on the game and cheering loudly for slytherin. But you can't help sneaking glances at Theo, watching for any sign of how he's handling your conversation with Cedric.

And deep down, you have to admit that a part of you is hoping he'll do something dramatic, something that will force him to confront all his feelings for you once and for all.

As the final whistle blows, announcing Slytherin's victory, the green and silver stands erupt in cheers. you join in the celebration, waving my pom-poms and shouting for your team. But even as you revel in our hard-fought win, your eyes are drawn to Theo.

He's hovering near the ground, his chest heaving with exertion, a triumphant grin on his face. The other Slytherin players mob him, slapping him on the back and congratulating him on his impressive performance. But Theodore seems oblivious to their praise, his gaze fixed on you.

He strides towards you, his movements purposeful and angry. As he approaches, you can see the tension radiating off him, the way his fists clench and unclench at his sides. But then you remember Cedric, still standing beside you, feeling a twinge of anxiety .

When he reaches you, he doesn't even acknowledge Cedric, his gaze laser-focused on you.

Theo grabs your hand roughly, his fingers intertwined with yours as he drags you towards the locker room. His pace is fast, almost frantic, as he weaves through the crowd of celebrating players and cheering fans.

Once inside, he slams the door shut behind you, the sound echoing in the empty room. 

You're alone now, trapped with the angry, jealous Theodore you've managed to provoke.

He turns to face you, his chest heaving with exertion and his eyes dark with a mix of anger and desire.

“Diggory huh? look who's cozying up to the enemy."

You feel your face heating up, a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment rising in your chest. 

"I wasn't cozying up with anyone," you snap, trying to keep your voice steady.  "I was just being friendly. It's part of my job as a cheerleader."

Theo lets out a short, derisive laugh.

"Friendly? Is that what you call it?." He leans in even closer, his lips nearly brushing your ear.

he purrs, his voice low and threatening. "You think you can just toy with me and get away with it?"

his breath hot against your face. "You're mine, dolcezza. Whether you like it or not. And I won't let Hufflepuffs golden boy come between us." His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle compared to the bruising grip on your arm.

"You belong with me. You always have. And I won't let you forget it."

His hand slides up your thigh, his touch possessive and demanding. your heart pounding in your chest.

You know you should pull away, tell him off for his arrogance and possessiveness. But there's a part of you that thrills at his words, that wants to give in to the desire that's been building.

Theo's lips crash against yours, his kiss rough and hungry. He devours your mouth, his tongue sliding against yours, claiming you as his own. His hands roam over your body, slipping under your cheerleader uniform, his fingers leaving trails of fire in their wake.

When he finally pulls back, you're both breathing heavily, your lips swollen and your skin flushed. Theo's eyes are dark with desire, his gaze roaming over your body with a predatory intensity.

"You had your fun out there, Bella," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "Teasing me, flirting with that prick. Well, now it's my turn."

You watch as he strips off his Quidditch uniform, his lean, muscular body on full display. Your mouth goes dry, your pulse racing at the sight of him.

Theodore turns to face you, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Theodore leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Now, let's see if you can follow orders like a good little cheerleader."

He shoves you to your knees, his hand fisting in your hair. You gasp as he forces your head towards his crotch, the bulge in his Quidditch pants impossible to ignore.

"Go on, bella. Show me how sorry you are. Show me that smart mouth of yours can be put to better use than running off at the gutter."

His words are harsh, but you can feel the heat of his arousal pressing against your face. Your heart pounds in your chest as you reach for his zipper, your fingers trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation.

As you free his cock from the confines of his pants, no matter how many times you’ve seen him you can't help but stare. He's huge, thick and hard and throbbing with need.

Theo's hand tightens in your hair, urging you forward.

“Well, someone’s inpatient” you tease 

"Don't make me tell you again, dolcezza. Put that pretty little mouth to work before I really lose my temper."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and excitement. You know you're playing a dangerous game, but the thought of submitting to Theodore's desires is just too tempting to resist.

He rocks his hips forward, the head of his cock brushing against your lips. You can feel the heat of his skin, the pulsing need that radiates from his core. Your mouth waters as you imagine the taste of him, the feel of his thick shaft sliding over your tongue.

"Open that smart mouth of yours and put it to good use. Show me how much you want to please me."he warns, his voice a low rumble.

With a shaky breath, you part your lips, letting your tongue dart out to taste the bead of pre-cum that leaks from the tip of his cock.

Theo groans, his grip on your hair tightening as he guides you forward. You open wider, taking him into your mouth inch by delicious inch. The taste of him explodes on your tongue, salty and musky and utterly intoxicating.

As you begin to bob your head, taking him deeper with each movement, Theodore's breath comes in harsh pants. His hips rock forward, meeting your mouth with each downward stroke. You can feel him growing harder, thicker, stretching your lips around his girth.

The locker room is filled with the wet sounds of your sucking, the grunts and groans of Theo's pleasure. You lose yourself in the rhythm, in the feel of his cock sliding over your tongue, hitting the back of your throat with each thrust.

As Theodore's cock slides deeper into your mouth, you can feel him growing harder, thicker, stretching your lips around his girth.

His grip on your hair tightens, forcing you to take him even deeper. You gag slightly as he hits the back of your throat, but the discomfort is quickly overtaken by a sense of power, of control.

You hollow your cheeks, sucking harder, faster. Your tongue swirls around the head of his cock, teasing the sensitive flesh. Theodore groans above you, his hips rocking forward to meet your mouth.

"Fuck, tesoro" he gasps, his voice rough with pleasure. "Just like that. Use that pretty little mouth of yours to make me feel good."

His words spur you on, and you double your efforts. You look up at him through your lashes, your eyes meeting his. The look in his gaze is one of pure, unadulterated lust. He's watching you, drinking in the sight of your lips wrapped around his cock. His free hand moves to grip your chin, holding you in place as he thrusts deeper.

"You like this, don't you?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous. 

"Like being on your knees for me, like having my cock in your mouth. I bet you've been thinking about this all day, haven't you?"

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of shame and excitement. You know you shouldn't enjoy this, shouldn't revel in the degradation of it all. But the truth is, you do.

You love the feel of his cock in your mouth, the taste of him on your tongue.

He rocks his hips forward, driving his cock deeper into your throat. You gag and sputter around him, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. But the pain only seems to spur him on, his thrusts becoming harder, faster.

"You wanted to get me all worked up, did you? Wanted to see what I'd do? Well, here's your answer.",

The taste of him fills your senses, the musky scent of his arousal making your head spin. You hollow your cheeks, sucking harder, faster, determined to bring him to the edge.

Theo groans above you, his hips rocking forward to meet your mouth. His grip on your hair tightens, guiding you as you bob your head up and down his length.

 "Fuck, yes,"he hisses, his voice strained with pleasure. "Just like that. You're going to make me cum so hard, tesoro. You're going to swallow every last drop.” your tongue swirling around the sensitive head of his cock, teasing the slit.

Theo's breathing becomes more ragged, his thrusts more erratic. You can tell he's close, his balls tightening as he nears his peak. "That's it" he growls, his voice a low rumble.

"Don't stop. I'm going to cum down your pretty little throat, dolcezza. You're going to drink every last drop like a good girl."

With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt in your mouth. You can feel him pulsing, throbbing against your tongue as he reaches his climax. Hot, bitter fluid floods your mouth, and you have no choice but to swallow it down.

As he pulls out, a string of cum connects your lips to the head of his cock. He wipes it away with a careless swipe of his thumb, smearing it across your cheek.

"There's a good girl" he purrs, his voice low and satisfied. "You took your punishment well. I think you've learned your lesson about flirting with other boys, haven't you?"

You can only nod, your mouth still full of the taste of him. Your thighs rub together, the ache between them a constant reminder of your own arousal. But you know better than to ask for anything more.

Theo tucks himself back into his pants, his eyes never leaving your face. He looks pleased with himself, a smug smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Get up," he commands, releasing his grip on your hair. "We're not done yet. I still have a few more lessons to teach you."

With shaking legs, you rise to your feet, your knees weak from kneeling on the hard floor.

Theo's hand finds your ass, giving it a rough squeeze as he guides you towards one of the benches.

"Bend over" he orders, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You bend over the bench, Your skimpy cheerleader skirt rides up to reveal the curve of your ass, exposing the lacy panties underneath. You can feel his eyes on you, drinking in the sight of your vulnerable position.

A smirk plays on your lips. You can't help but poke the bear, even as your heart races with anticipation

"Ooh, I'm sooo scared," you drawl, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Whatever shall I do?

The big bad Slytherin is going to punish me for flirting with another boy. I might just faint from the sheer terror of it all."

You hear Theo's sharp intake of breath behind you, followed by the sound of his palm cracking against your ass. The sting is immediate, a hot burst of pain that sends shockwaves through your body.

"Watch it, Bella" he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "That smart mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one of these days."

His hand comes down again, harder this time, the force of it sending a jolt of pleasure mixed with pain straight to your core. You bite your lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatens to escape.

"That's it, keep that smart mouth shut,"

Theodore taunts, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he kneads the reddened skin.

"I'm going to fuck you right here, where anyone could walk in and see" Theo whispers, his breath hot against your ear.

"And you're going to take it like a good little slut, aren't you?"

He reaches down, his hand sliding between your legs to cup your aching sex. You're already soaked, your panties clinging to your skin. Theo chuckles darkly as he feels how wet you are.

"Look at you, getting off on this. You're sick, you know that? Teasing me, flirting with other boys, just to get a rise out of me." His fingers slide under your panties, teasing your swollen folds. You can't help but arch into his touch, desperate for more.

"Beg for it, tesoro" he demands, his voice rough with desire.

 "Beg me to fuck you like the naughty little slut you are. Maybe if you beg nicely enough, l'Il give you what you want."His words are cruel, but they only serve to fuel your arousal. You're desperate for him, desperate for the release only he can give you. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg.

"Fuck you, Theodore" you hiss, glaring back at him over your shoulder.

“awe come on baby, i know you can’t resist me”

His fingers dip inside you, stroking your inner walls. You can't help but moan at the intrusion, your hips bucking back against his hand. Theodore chuckles darkly, his thumb finding your clit and circling it mercilessly.

"That's it, let me hear you," he taunts, his fingers pumping in and out of your dripping core.

Theodore's fingers pump in and out of you, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit. The dual sensations are almost too much to bear, your hips bucking back against his hand as you chase your pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he growls, his voice low and dark

You can't hold back any longer. As his fingers drive deeper, his thumb pressing harder on your clit, you let out a loud, wanton moan.

Your back arches, pushing your hips back against his hand, desperate for more of that exquisite pleasure.

"Fuck, Theo!" you cry out, your voice echoing off the locker room walls. "Please, don't stop!"

Theodore chuckles darkly, his fingers never ceasing their relentless assault on your most intimate places. Your moans grow louder, more desperate, as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

"That's more like it, You sound so pretty when you beg." he purrs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

Theo's fingers pump harder, faster, his thumb rubbing your clit with merciless precision. Your moans grow louder, more desperate, as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. The wet sounds of your arousal fill the locker room, mixing with the slap of skin on skin as he fucks you with his fingers.

"That's it, tesoro" he growls, his voice low and husky. "Cum for me. Show me how much you want it. I want to feel you clenching around my fingers, begging for more."

You're so close, teetering on the brink of ecstasy, your body trembling with need. With a final, brutal thrust of his fingers, Theo sends you over the edge.

“oh godd” Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your inner walls clenching around his fingers as you cum hard. You cry out, your voice raw with pleasure, your body shaking uncontrollably. Theo doesn't let up, continuing to finger-fuck you through your climax, drawing out your pleasure until you're a boneless, panting mess.

As you come down from your high, Theo withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his mouth. He sucks them clean, his eyes locked on yours as he savors your taste.

"Delicious" he purrs, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "But we're far from done. I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight, until the only name you remember is mine."

Theo's hands grip your hips, he positions you on your hands and knees on the bench. his fingers digging into your flesh as he positions himself at your entrance. You can feel the heat of his cock, the hardness of it pressing insistently against your sensitive folds. 

"Spread your legs wider,tesoro” he commands, his voice rough with lust. "Let me see that pretty little cunt." With a brutal thrust, he's inside you, filling you completely.

"Fuck, you're so tight" he groans, his voice strained with pleasure. "I can feel every inch of you squeezing around my cock."

He sets a relentless pace, pounding into you with a force that steals your breath. The bench creaks beneath you, the sound mixing with the wet slap of skin on skin, the grunts and moans of your mutual pleasure.

Theo's hips snap forward, driving his cock deeper with each thrust.

His hands roam your body, groping and squeezing as he fucks you. He reaches around to your front, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. The added stimulation sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Mine to fuck, mine to use, mine to claim. Say it." he growls, his voice rough with desire

The moment you hesitate, Theo's hand cracks across your ass in a stinging slap.

"I said, say it" he demands, his voice low and dangerous. "Tell me who you belong to."

He doesn't give you a chance to respond, instead thrusting forward hard and fast.

You cry out at the sudden intrusion, your body tensing at the familiar burn of being filled so completely.

Theodore doesn't pause, pulling back only to slam into you again, setting a brutal pace. The force of his thrusts rocks you forward on the bench, your breasts bouncing with each harsh snap of his hips. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the locker room, mixing with your moans and Theo's grunts of pleasure.

"Fuck, you feel so good" he pants, his hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise. "So tight, so perfect for my cock.”

You can feel your pleasure building with each thrust, your inner walls clenching around him, desperate for more. Theodore leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he pounds into you relentlessly.

"Say it," he growls in your ear, his hot breath fanning across your neck. 

"Tell me who you belong to”

You're so close to the edge, your body trembling with the force of your impending orgasm. But you refuse to give in, refuse to give Theodore the satisfaction of hearing you submit. Instead, you clench down hard on his cock, trying to distract him, to throw him off balance.

It works, at least for a moment. Theo curses, his hips stuttering as your walls grip him like a vice. But he quickly recovers, pulling out entirely and flipping you over onto your back. He hovers above you, his eyes dark with lust and frustration.

Theo looms over you, his eyes wild with lust and frustration. You meet his gaze defiantly, refusing to submit, to give him the satisfaction of hearing you beg. Instead, you reach up, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him down to you.

"You're mine, Theodore," you whisper, your voice low and seductive. "You've always been mine, even if you won't admit it. Say it. Tell me who you belong to."

Your challenge hangs in the air between you, heavy with unspoken desire. Theo's eyes narrow, his jaw clenching as he struggles to maintain control. But you can see the flicker of uncertainty in his gaze, the momentary crack in his carefully constructed facade.

You arch your back, pressing your breasts against his chest as you wrap your legs around his waist.

"Fuck, Bella" he pants, his voice strained.

"You drive me crazy. You make me want things I shouldn't want, feel things I shouldn't feel. But you're right. I am yours, just as much as you're mine. We belong to each other, whether we like it or not."

Theodore's admission hangs in the air between you, a confession whispered in the heat of passion. He gazes down at you, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before the hunger returns, dark and intense. His hips move in a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust driving him deeper, filling you completely.

"My perfect little minx, my tempting little tease. You drive me insane, make me want to possess every inch of you, claim you in ways no one else ever could." he growls, his voice low and possessive.

His hand slides up your side, his fingers tracing the curve of your breast before palming the soft mound 

Theo's hand slides lower, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight, teasing circles. Your hips buck against him, seeking more of that delicious friction. He chuckles darkly, his breath hot against your skin.

"That's it, my little slut" he purrs, his voice dripping with praise. His hand fists in your hair, tugging your head back as he leans down to claim your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue delves deep, exploring, conquering, leaving no doubt as to who owns you.

You moan into his mouth, your own tongue tangling with his in a dance of dominance and submission.

Theodore's thrusts grow harder, faster, each one driving you closer to the edge. Your nails rake down his back, leaving red welts in their wake. You can feel your orgasm building, your inner walls clenching around him, desperate for release.

"You're going to be the death of me, dolcezza. But what a way to go." he growls, his lips crashing against yours in a brutal kiss.

He angles his thrusts, hitting that spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

Each stroke sends sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, building the tension coiling in your core.

"Harder," you gasp, your voice raw with need.

"Fuck me harder, Theo. I can take it. I want it." you whine out

Theo obliges, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more brutal. The bench creaks beneath you, the metal frame rattling with each powerful stroke. You can feel him growing harder inside you, his cock throbbing against your walls.

Theo's hand snakes between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing in tight, teasing circles. The added stimulation is almost too much, your body tensing as your orgasm approaches.

"Cum for me, Bella " he demands, his voice low and commanding. "Cum on my cock like a good girl. Show me who you belong to."

Theo groans, his hips stuttering as he nears his own climax.

"Cum for me, cum all over my cock. Fuck, I'm going to fill you up so good."

“omg theo!” You cry out, your back arching off the bench as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. your voice raw with pleasure, your body shaking uncontrollably. Theo doesn't let up, continuing to pound into you, riding out your climax with his own.

Even as your orgasm crashes over you, Theodore doesn't let up. He continues to pound into you, his hips slamming against yours with relentless force. The sensation is almost too much to bear, your overstimulated nerves screaming with pleasure.

"Fuck, you feel incredible when you cum" Theo groans, his voice strained with effort. 

"So tight, so perfect. I could fuck you like this forever, make you cum over and over again until you're a satisfied mess."

"Theo" you moan, your voice raw and desperate. "I can't... I can't take anymore. It's too much."

But even as you protest, your hips are moving in time with his, meeting each of his thrusts with your own. You're lost in a haze of pleasure, your body responding to his touches even as your mind struggles to keep up.

“It's okay baby just a little longer, you can handle it right?”

you nod not being able to say anything else

His hip quicken as he feels his release approaching 

“fuck fuck fuck” he cries out, his voice raw with pleasure

Theo slams into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight heat. His body tenses, his muscles rigid as his climax hits him like a freight train. With a guttural groan, he finds his release, his cock pulsing and twitching as he fills you with his seed.

The sensation is overwhelming, your oversensitive body shaking and quivering with the force of his orgasm. You cling to him, your nails digging into his back, your body milking him for all he's worth.

Gradually, his thrusts slow, his body relaxing as he comes down from his high. He collapses beside you on the bench, both of you gasping for breath, your bodies glistening with sweat. For a moment, there is only the sound of your ragged breathing, the pounding of your hearts gradually slowing.

Theo reaches out, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. His touch is gentle, almost tender, a stark contrast to the brutal passion of moments before. He looks at you, his eyes dark and intense, a hint of vulnerability in their depths.

You reach up, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him down for a kiss. It's slow, tender, a stark contrast to the brutal passion of moments before. You both pour all your feelings into the kiss, all the emotions you’ve been trying to deny, to suppress.

When you finally break apart, you're both breathless, smiling softly at each other. Theodore's hand slides down your side, his fingers interlacing with yours.

"no more games" he whispers as he kisses your forehead "just you & me okay?"

“just you and me” 

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