#but i do think that i can be a bit too... arrogant

[redstonedragon3]

Alright, I'll play your game.

Red. Originally the character was named Red, back when I was classic cringey 8 year old. Red for like blood because the character uses blood magic.

Idk, but I have kinda decided the instrument associated with the character would be a violin, because of the learning curve attached and the character's arc.

Not really. Uses swords, spears, what have you interchangeably because just makes them with gold magic. Did I mention they use gold magic too?

Part of the character arc. Becomes extremely devious with bending their own weapons and spidermanning places and stuff, but starts with like no tricks.

Wears a red scarf symbolic of their past and a blood-gold alloy longcoat open for the sake of always being able to make a weapon in need. Practicality & aesthetics.

It's a bit of a meme in the series (that will one day exist but not now) that their hair is very anime-like so they're kind of mocked for having a triangle over their face. Bedhead just pops into place with a goofy hair flap.

Scarab. Idk, literally just thought of it now.

Theo, short for Theodore. Nothing special.

I have not thought about it. Maybe later. Sorry.

No jewelry. But obviously prefers gold.

Well, originally was a self insert, but not as much anymore. They're more arrogant. I don't know if we would get along.

In the first arc with them, they're 23. Second arc, 35. Bit of a timeskip, I know. I made them like 5-7 years ago, no clue exactly when. Birthday though... No idea. I'll think about it with like zodiacs and symbolism, but that's for another day.

English, fluently. Swedish, not as so.

Not the best, but competent.

Single child, but now lives alone.

No? Might change, idk.

No idea.

Lying, no. Stealing, no. Killing? Initially against, but grows to become quite harsh.

They're collected, and willing to do things mostly done in anger, but don't actually fall to fury often.

They can, but it isn't seen much because most of the series is in an isekai world without, well, cars.

In a state of control.

Yes. Often painfully, but yes.

Um... No?

Entomology.

Quite good hearing, slightly farsighted (wears spectacles)

Starts athletic but clumsyish, becomes quite dextrous by the end of their first arc.

Races, long jumps, they do stuff like that.

They express care by stepping in the way of danger, and express dislike in a much more warring way.

Blood and gold. It's both what they magically use, and symbolic.

Like iron.

Likes getting cool bugs for the collection.

Entomology. lol

Arrogant, selfless, power-hungry, naive.

In. Control.

They do, but that isn't how the story ends.

What do you think?

i wanted to make an oc ask game 😋 things i like to ask people abt their characters:

are they associated with a certain color? what color do they wear the most?

what sort of music would they like? have you thought about what genres or bands do they lean towards? do they have a favorite song?

weapon of choice? any particular reason they chose their weapon?

how crafty/resourceful are they?

how do they typically dress? does their wardrobe lean more towards practicality or aesthetics?

how do they wear their hair? do they care a lot how their hair looks?

favorite animal? why?

do they have a nickname? who gave it to them? if it's not derived from their real name, what's the story behind it?

favorite food? least favorite? are they a picky eater? do they have any dietary restrictions?

if they wear jewelry, what kind? do they prefer silver or gold? do they have a favorite gem?

what do they have in common with you? how are they different? would you get along with them?

how long have they been around? do you know their birthday? is their birthday the day you made them or another day? what do they think of celebrating birthdays?

what languages do they speak? how fluently?

are they any good with numbers?

how big or small is their family? who did they live with growing up? do they live with anyone now?

do they have any pets? what do they call their pets?

how did they spend their summers/free time as a child?

their opinion on lying, stealing, and killing?

are they quick to anger? what sets them off?

if applicable, can they drive? if they have their own, what color is their vehicle? is the inside neat and tidy, or a mess?

their favorite place to be?

do they sleep well at night?

how would you describe their voice? can they sing?

do they have any creative hobbies? (art, writing, music, etc)

how good/bad is their hearing? what about their eyesight?

how do they move? are they clumsy? light on their feet? do they use mobility aids?

if applicable, do they have a favorite sport? do they play any sports or prefer to watch?

how do they show that they care about someone? how do they express that they don't like someone?

are they associated with any particular element (air, earth, fire, water)?

do they smell like anything notable?

do they like receiving gifts? giving gifts? what is their ideal gift?

do they have any habits that aren't particularly self-destructive, just maybe odd?

if applicable, how would your other characters describe them? i mean specifically the people around them.

how would your character describe themselves? it doesn't have to line up with how they really are.

do they ever return home?

[lesfir]

Astarion and Vampire Supremacy. In general and in romance.

In DnD, vampires are huge supremacists. They consider themselves superior to any undead and certainly superior to mortals. All mortals are cattle to vampires.

In Baldur's Gate 3, this trait is also present in vampire culture.

In Astarion there seems to be almost no such things… Or they are not emphasised - as I think they are. In my opinion we should have explored his different traits.

Vampire Supremacy is one of them.

Astarion was an Upper City noble and the chances that he wasn't arrogant towards the "lower classes" are very low. Zero for me. So he was already familiar with supremacism very well. Add to that the loss of his status and the hierarchy of the coven in which he became a slave. That's something.

We barely have conversations with Astarion about vampire culture: what does it mean to be in "vampire coven"? How vampires relate to the mortal world? And what does he like about the vampire world? It's more shadowy moments.

Here I found a few.

Part 1. Details in the story.

EA 9 patch, Act 1 - the grove, after killing Nettie. It's one of those cut out scenes with little companion comments and reduced to a one line or remade. Shadowheart had it too :< Now:

Act 2 - after killing the strange ox. Act 3 - Astarion as Lord says his stuff :D

This word: "spook" cattle/sheep... It's same edge of his character.

In Act 1, you'd think he thinks all "weak" people are sheep. That's true, too. Nettie has lost, she's dead and she's a sheep, but somewhere around here in the grove there will be a hunter for him and Tav - they have to go.

In Act 3, the path of evil, Astarion demonstrates this line deeper and more vividly. In Act 2, it still sounds like something funny, comical. Yes, yes chickens, oxen and people. But these are food animals - and that's not such a joke to Astarion.

To put it in perspective in Act 1 all his companions is a snack. He discusses with Tav what they would taste like. Here's the synopsis for that scene:

Synopsis: Astarion is staring at the other companions around the campfire. He's friendly and affable, but his mind is on his hunger. He starts to wonder what the others taste like, although he's MOSTLY joking. In the end he decides to remove himself, before the conversation gets too real. Mostly a joke that could become something serious.

Vampiric arrogance, predatory nature.

Vampires are clever hunters - their arrogance towards mortals comes in many forms, from food to merry carnage to lust. Basically, they use whatever gives them profit and pleasure.

He might not eat Laezel, but watching Lae and Shadowheart fight is entertainment for him.

Looks fun, but the nature of it is dark. It can be taken ironically, but he really enjoys watching brutal fighting and generally killing. It's a trait. Deserves its own post.

WYR_SmugglersCave_PAD_Suggestions He do hope. It's also relevant to mortals. Corrupt people with power are as parasitic creatures as vampires. Instead of blood, it's gold, work, and entertainment in an wicked way that damages people.

In this I notice the metaphorical nature of vampirism in Astarion's character. As an example of corruption I recall Astarion's little remark when we kill the two ogre-lovers of the barn.

The insignificance (who cares about two ogres) and again the comicality of the situation, the way Astarion smiles as he opens the barn is legendary. Kind of hides it a little bit and takes it away from the thought…

Somewhere in Baldur's Gate someone is paying gold to watch fights, and it's unlikely these fights have civilized rules. And it's doubtful that such a entertainment would only apply to ogres. The fighting pits at Baldur's Gate. Who knows if Astarion was interested in that when he was mortal. I headcanon that he was. He was extremely corrupted and it's deep in his personality.

Here is this telling facet, Astarion's interest in such burtal things, which are as much in the shadows as gremlin remarks, yet there is exactly "evil" in this one. This part of that aspect: The arrogance of the Noble and the Vampire. More points about treating people like cattle. There is a moment in Act 2 - and I have absolutely no idea where it is. SHA_Mausoleum_PAD_MakeshiftVessel Players find a vessel with a half-formed humanoid shape gestating inside and reacts accordingly. The being is just inert flesh and cannot speak. How to trigger: Interact with S_SHA_Mausoleum_MakeshiftVessel.

Where is that thing? I can't find.

In good companions, this is a cause for concern. In general the place where they found it contributes to very unpleasant thoughts. A mausoleum in the shadow lands of Sharr, where a necromancer and the chosen of Myrkul struts around. Well, Astarion too, as you can see... finds a downside. Hunting people is fun and keeps you in the spirit.

It's a good idea to check all the phrases in Astarion's Original throughout the acts. Maybe there's more.

I watched the epilogue of Lord Astarion Original and in a conversation with Minthara (hah, who else?)

And it's wild. It's literally all about the people. :D

We have a few to choose from for rpg's. And given the line about sports… I really don't think Astarion will be buying "food" very often. Or that pale arse is lazy after all and his hunt is a park in the city. And when he should be setting up his power web in the city, he's too busy for hunting.

Can you imagine him wanting to hunt and get some air, but he's got some lordish business in the halls until late in the evening.

Part 2. In Romamce.

This part departs from such direct things as blood and the predator's attitude towards people. It becomes more sensual.

I would say this trait of supremacism is slightly visible, but not over people, over mortality in a greater sense, when Astarion turns Tav: he emphasises the strength, sharpness. Better.

The morning after the turn.

He has a point. The last time he was mortal, he was killed.

Astarion as Lord does the same with God Gale Original mentioning immortality as - strength, lack of illness and youthfulness. love this one

His vampiric arrogance over Tav perhaps visible only in the first act. He didn't really care. Tav became his fun, his lust, and his way to survive. Then Tav is the first person to care about him in dozens and dozens of years of slavery. "Blood bags" and such are a bit of dark humour, so it might have been true in another life, but he and Tav are far from it, they're the first person he's cared for in decades of loneliness. His perception of mortality as something that makes a person more vulnerable is his trigger (among others) for turning Tav into a his kind. But since he's not in such a hurry in the end of mortal Tav, I'm guessing: it's his euphoric state after the ritual, where his spire for the castle of vampire happiness is to be with Tav forever. He chillin' about it, afterward. Tav's immortality is a nice thing he'd like, but okay it can wait. So. Tav... they're special. The two of them are special. Astarion elevates Tav and himself above the others. We are Better.

Camp. Vampire ambush.

When the camp is ambushed by spawns. If Tav proposes the idea that the world is actually a wonderful place that can accept him - he argues with them. But approves of all three different reactions. Also then Astarion says the word "forever" in regards to their relationship, to Tav.

This "forever" part is deep in Astarion. According to the artbook (The artbook is EA era, which is still sold with the game though, and the story doesn't contradict anything) So according to the artbook Astarion was obsessed with eternal life, forever youth, forever being. It extends to his feelings - it's needed forever. It's very sensual, but also very greedy and… painfully understandable - it's such a simple feeling to make something nice continue for as long as possible.

If Tav is on the same page as Astarion and tends towards the "only loved ones matter, we're special" mindset. You'd think it was his trick-manipulation to perform a ritual, praise Tav for supporting his idea of supremacism and get what he so reasonably needs. He's certainly glad that Tav has similar ideas to him, and he'll definitely support that. It doesn't depend on his goals still - his "we are better" is very direct and deep in his personality.

Italicized. Here we are. That's one of the key thoughts in his character. That's the focus. This trait is further seen in Astarion as Lord - he says "We", "Ours". The man even says it in Latin. Aeterna amantes.

New in patch 7, takeover of the Absolute:

This part is already moving away from vampirism. This one is very layered. We are because he finally found someone he can trust. We are because we are parts fated to complete each other. We are because he's not alone in the world anymore.

Along with vampirism, his Noble Lord status plays a role here again. We are the mighty, above and we rule.

It's an easy and very simple fit to vampirism - we are better and we are forever.

He's also incredibly proud of himself, that he can give something to Tav, can protect them. He's been under Tav's protection the whole journey. Undead outcaster in Faerun, they regard mortals as cattle, and mortals regard them as monsters. That's why there are monster hunters. Vampire spawn he was allowed to stay in the group and he was dependent, he couldn't be a leader. In the romance he felt he had nothing to give, he was getting Tav into trouble with a powerful true vampire. He was counting the seconds until they finally decided to leave him…

In the romance, vampirism plays into the fact that Astarion is very much immersed in thoughts of eternity together. This emotionally intense and fragile moment: "I don't want to lose anything", comes from the very moment he lost: his status, the sun, his life. Not gonna happen again. Vampirism in the romance have fun one too: -- wealth - these two literally wear the most expensive clothes on the Sword Coast. -- shared powers - he is going to be in charge -- fights and challenge is for Tav- warrior, Astarion likes to spill some blood -- pleasure - of various kinds, from bed to blood.

The end result is an amalgamation of his: -- his personality with, well, a pretty intense dark triad. I would say character image instead of personality. Because the personality is itself. But the character will always submit to the idea - recall that his core is a balance of evil and fun. And evil in DnD is eogism, immorality, narcissism, harming others for fun and personal goals and all that. These dark parts in irl personality can spoil the balance. That's why psychology is for people. Not for characters who will eventually never go against their core. (even if all psychology reference books say otherwise). -- vampirism - the desire for blood and a predatory attitude -- desire for status and power as noble -- force as magic -- forever -- and share it all with love A little bonus at the end. Animation 3 patch. Subtle process.

This scene is much improved in colours in patch 7. But I still like the original faces. He looks so much like a fox >:3

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

i’m obsessed with your paul fic!! i loved the subtle lines from the song weaved into the story, you’re a wonderful writer 💓 part 2?? :)

alright, twist my arm 😂

pairing: Paul Lahote x human!reader

cw: smut, biting, trauma dumping, semi-public sex/ voyeurism (the werewolves can hear you)

Part One

Paul spun the two of you around, pressing you up against the wall as he claimed your mouth again. Every pass of his lips, every swipe of his tongue, it felt like he was putting you back together again.

He kissed along your jaw, nudging your head up with his nose to start spoiling your neck. You dug your nails into his shoulders, clinging to him, and he made a low growling sound in his throat.

He turned his head suddenly and you felt his blunt teeth sink into your skin. Bright pain lanced up your shoulder. You yelped, but his tongue glided over the aching spot, soothing the bite mark he'd just made.

Heat pooled between your legs. He just bit you, and you fucking loved it.

He chuckled against the skin of your neck, an warm, melodic sound. “Liked that, hm?” He mumbled, trailing soft pecks back up to your lips.

You nodded, showing him just how much with a filthy kiss. He smiled against you before wrestling your tongue into submission.

You were light-headed from all the sensations. Pain, joy, fear, bone-melting desire, him.

Footsteps plodded up your front porch. “Hey, y/n, need any help with—oh shit. What happened to your door?”

Paul turned his head to glare at the intruder, but didn't make any move to lower you to the ground.

“I, uh—” Jacob stuttered, standing like a deer in headlights in the smashed doorway.

You kicked your feet, hoping Paul would get the message to put you down, but he only tightened his grip on your thighs.

The men stared at each other, and it took you a second to realize they were having an internal conversation.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“Really, you going to fuck her right in front of me?”

“I'd kill you right in front of her if she asked me to. Fuck off.”

“You can't just treat her like crap for six months and then decide you want her when she finally gets sick of your shit—”

A growl ripped from Paul’s chest. He could feel the shift coming, his wolf pressing beneath his skin with urgency. You squirmed in his arms, his grip too tight, and he set you on your feet.

The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, and make you trust him even less.

“Paul.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, your skin blissfully cool against his, and to his shock, his wolf backed off a bit.

“Damn, she's got you trained already?” Jacob was taunting him now, being petty out of pathetic jealousy.

“I won't tell you again. Get out,” Paul snarled in his head.

“Y/n, seriously if you need help—”

“I think you should go, Jake,” y/n said, crossing your arms over your chest. Seeing Jacob’s arrogant smirk crumble was like Christmas fucking morning. “I won't be needing your help anymore.”

Delight curled along Paul’s spine, heightened further by the darkening bite mark he left at the curve of your shoulder, clear as day for Jacob, and the pack, to see.

You were his. And it was about time he started screaming it from the rooftops.

“Bye, Jake.” Paul grinned, walking across the room to show him the door. That he broke. Shit, I gotta fix that.

Jacob flipped him off and trudged down the stairs, climbing onto his little motorcycle and driving off. He'd be sour for a few days, but they always worked it out.

“I'm sorry about your door,” Paul said, picking it up and inspecting the hinge. He'd ripped the door clean off of it, tearing up the wood and bending the metal.

“It's okay,” you replied, shuffling your feet, a nervous energy wafting from you.

Now that the heat of the moment had waned, the reality of situation came crashing down around him. How could he have been so awful to you?

“Y/n, I—”

“You don't have to apologize.” You cut him off. “I know the imprint is challenging, and for you to bond with someone you hated so much…” you trailed off, eyes welling with tears.

Paul rushed over, pulling you into his chest. “I never hated you, I was—” he buried his head in your hair, shame burning under his skin, “—I was afraid.”

“Of me?” you sniffled against his chest, tears wet on his skin.

He shook his head, then nodded. “Yes and no. I was scared of what you knew, what a danger that posed to my family. And then I saw you and…and the imprint gave you so much power over me.”

Your hands curled into his sides, your head burrowing closer, like you were trying to crawl into his skin.

“Not only were you in the position to destroy my family, but I would have done it for you if you asked me to. Ripped myself to pieces if that's what you wanted.”

You lifted your tear-streaked face to look at him. “I would never do that—”

“I know, I know.” He shushed you, dropping a kiss to your red nose. “I know that now.”

“I even burned the notes—”

“What?” He held you out at arms length, dark brows drawn together. “When?”

“Months ago,” you said, and his jaw dropped.

“Months ago? Why?”

“You imprinted on me, and I didn't—I wanted—”

Affection overwhelmed him, making his eyes sting and nose tingle. He cupped your face and drew you back towards him, brushing his lips against yours. “You wanted to protect me,” he said, bumping your noses together.

You nodded, reaching up to wipe something from his cheek. Not a tear, fuck no.

“But your research? You didn't burn all of it, did you?”

“No, no. Just the things about the pack, and anything that would lead someone down the same path I took.”

Paul just stared down at you, awestruck. He couldn't believe that he was holding you, kissing you, sharing secrets with you. It was the sweetest agony he’d ever experienced, next to imprinting on you.

“Paul, I—to be clear, I do want to fuck you.”

He snorted a laugh at the subject change, warmth spreading from his chest to the tips of his ears. “But?” He raised an eyebrow.

“But could we just…hang out for awhile? I know you, but I don't feel like I know you. Like what's your favorite color?” Your fingers traced absent shapes on his chest, eyes flitting nervously around his face.

He brushed his thumb beneath your right eye. “This one, your eyes.”

“You better stop it or I'm going to climb your wolfy ass like a tree.” You swatted his hand away and took a step back, leaving him laughing.

God, when was the last time he laughed like this?

“How about we start with unpacking your things?” He offered. “And I'll fix your door.”

You gave him a relieved smile. “Sounds perfect.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You and Paul spent the rest of the day righting your home. While you unpacked, he not only fixed the door, but about ten other small, broken things you didn't have the tools, the height, or the wherewithal to repair yourself.

When the sun began to set, Paul left you bundled up on the couch to pick up take out from your favorite place in Forks. He stationed Seth outside your door for protection, and Seth gave you a thumbs up through the window.

Paul returned half-an-hour later, and you ate at the coffee table so you could watch a movie, legs curled up beneath you, Paul's hand resting heavily on your thigh. Between every bite, he leaned in for kiss.

After you finished, you climbed up onto the couch and stretched out across his chest, soaking up his radiant heat like cat. You knew you still had a long way to go before you'd be able to fully commit to him, although in a lot of ways you already had.

He'd been amazing today, thoughtful, attentive, almost goofy. But Rome wasn't built in a day, and for this relationship to work, it needed to stand on a sturdy foundation of trust and respect.

Not magic, lupine bonding instincts.

But you were confident that in time, you and Paul would get there.

***smut ahead!*** 🚨

You pressed a few kisses along the muscular expanse of his chest, marveling at the specimen of a man beneath you. His pecs just looked so…

“Watch yourself, bookworm,” he warned, fisting your hair and pulling your head back, revealing the bite mark you'd left over his heart.

You were about to ask why, when you felt something hard surge against your hip. A devilish smile curled your lips.

You rolled your hips against him, the lightest grind, and his eyes fluttered closed, head falling back onto the arm of the couch. His hands gripped your waist freezing you in place.

“Baby, don't play with me,” he groaned, his cock already straining against his flannel sweatpants.

“But it's fuuun,” you teased, fastening your lips to the already fading bite mark and sucking hard.

“I won't be gentle.”

“If I wanted gentle, I'd find Jacob.”

Paul flipped you beneath him, quicker than you could blink, his enormous weight pressing you into the couch. “Say his name while I'm around again, and he won't have a dick to fuck with,” he growled, grinding his cock over your clothed pussy.

Already, you were so sensitive, your body lighting up with pleasure from the friction, the rumble of his voice in your ear. You rocked back against him, chasing that feeling.

“You smell fucking divine, babygirl,” he groaned, burying his head into your neck as you ground against him, meeting you thrust for thrust like a couple of horny teenagers. “Drove me wild, smelling you all the damn time. Felt like you were turning yourself on just to get a rise out of me.” He lapped at your neck, dragging his tongue along your thundering pulse.

“I was,” you admitted, breathless, your peak just out of reach.

He pulled his head back, his hips lifting off of you. “You were?” You expected to see anger in his eyes, but they were molten with desire, a predator eyeing his prey.

You bit your lip, nodding.

“You know I wasn't the only one that could smell you, right?” He cocked his head, eyes skating down your torso pinned beneath him before flicking back up to your face.

“I knew it made you jealous. And I wanted them to see what was yours.”

A growl echoed from the barrel of his chest. “You're going to be the fucking death of me.” He smashed his mouth to yours in a brutal, claiming kiss, his canines dragging across your lips before parting them with his tongue.

His hands found the buttons of your pj top, ripping it open like it was made of tissue paper, sending buttons scattering across the room.

“Hey!” You protested.

“I'll buy you a hundred more,” he said, diving into your bare tits, popping one pert nipple into his hot mouth, then the other, lashing them mercilessly with his tongue.

You cried out, arching into his mouth.

“Be as loud as you want, baby. Let them hear what's mine.” He tugged down your shorts, two thick fingers gliding over your soaked panties. You moaned again, lifting your hips to chase his touch. “That's it, y/n. Already so wet for me.”

He caught your mouth once more, swallowing your next sound as he slipped his fingers under your panties, making direct contact with your weeping pussy. He dipped the tip of his middle finger inside before swirling it around your clit, sending you into fucking orbit.

You bucked against him, throwing your head back against the couch cushions as your body tightened, your walls clenching around nothing. “Please,” you whined against his cheek. “Need you.”

“Aw, no more snarky ass comments?” He teased, lightly slapping your sensitive clit, just enough to make you writhe beneath him.

“Paul,” you begged, trying and failing to reach for his cock. He was too damned tall. “I've waited so long.” You knew you sounded pitiful, and if he hadn't rendered your brain to needy, slutty mush, you'd be mortified.

“I know, you’ve been such a patient girl for me.” He reached between you, freeing his cock so it slapped against your inner thigh. “I'm sorry it took me so long to take care of this sweet pussy.” He shifted himself down until his mouth was level with your slit. “Just a taste, baby? Then I promise to fuck you stupid.”

You nodded vigorously, carding your fingers through his black hair. You never thought Paul would be so chatty during sex, not that you were complaining. The filthy words in his growly voice was like music to your ears.

He flattened his tongue against your slit, licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, and you nearly came right then and there.

“Fuck, Paul,” you moaned, tightening your grip on his hair. His rumble of satisfaction vibrated your sensitive skin and you shivered. “I'm so fucking close.”

You didn't have to tell him twice. He started feasting on your pussy with abandon, slurping and sucking like you were his favorite meal on earth. Stars danced behind your eyes, broken moans and gibberish falling from your lips. You were certain the entire pack, and probably the next pack over, could hear you crying out for him, but you didn't give a single fuck.

He eased a finger inside of you, curling it against your spongy walls, and you shattered, an orgasm ripping through you at dizzying speed.

You screamed so loud he flinched, glancing up at you to make sure you weren’t hurt.

“Fucking hell, baby,” he purred, gently lapping at your clit as you twitched and jerked away, oversensitive. “Damn near broke my finger.” He rose up to hover over you, pressing light kisses along your cheeks and eyelids, coaxing you back to him.

You threw your arms around his neck and brought your lips to his, tasting yourself on his tongue. You felt him chuckle, his hands sliding under your back to press your hips against him.

“Something funny?” You nipped at his lower lip.

“They're begging me to keep it down,” he snickered.

“We'll get them some ear plugs.” You reached between your bodies, wrapping your fingers around his cock. The skin was so hot you nearly pulled away, the head slick with precum and pulsing against your wrist.

He grunted, his hips thrusting into your hand. “Now who’s playing.” He batted your hand away, and leaned back to line himself up with your entrance. “Ready for me?”

“God, yes.” You threw your head back as he started to slide in, your walls clenching hard around him.

“Let me in, babygirl,” he cooed, rubbing your thigh slung over his hip.

You forced your muscles to relax, breathing hard, and he slowly stretched you open, pain and pleasure stirring together until you couldn't differentiate the two, lost in the exquisite torture of him.

“I won't last five minutes with you squeezing me like that—fuck,” his voice cracked into a low moan, his hips stuttering forward almost involuntarily. “You know what? C’mere.” He guided your arms to wrap around his neck and braced his forearm against your lower back. In a quick movement, he stood up, bringing you with him.

Your bodies didn't separate an inch, your tits squished against his chest, his cock still buried inside you. Gravity pulled you down a little father onto him, in fact, and you both groaned at the new angle.

He carried you across the house and into your bedroom, tossing you onto the pillows by your headboard. You hadn't even stopped bouncing before he pounced, sliding back into your heat with a little more ease than before.

“There we go,” he murmured into your neck, drawing his hips back before rolling them forwards.

You clawed at his back, moaning against his ear as he thrust into you again and again, filling you near to splitting, before retreating again. Soon, you were stupid with pleasure, mumbling incoherently and lifting your hips in time with his.

“Look at you, so fucking pretty taking my cock. Feel good, baby?”

You nodded, tears squeezing from the corners of your eyes as he picked up the pace, pounding into you.

“Want to feel you come around me. Can you do that for me ‘fore I fill you up?” The pad of his middle finger circled your clit, making your eyes roll back into your head, your muscles turning to goo.

His was fighting to keep a stable pace, his muscles rippling across his abdomen, veins bulging along his thick arms. You could tell he was close, his eyes locked on where your bodies met.

“Fuck, Paul. I'm gonna come,” you whined, gripping his thighs as your body wound itself up, spiraling endlessly tighter.

“I'm with ‘ya, babygirl. C’mon,” he panted, making tighter circles on your clit, his whole body trembling with the effort to control himself.

The coil in your stomach snapped, hurtling you over your peak at the same moment he came undone, both of you crying out as the tsunami of pleasure dragged you down together.

You felt his cock buck inside of you, filling you with his boiling hot release. The temperature soothed your overworked muscles, and you sagged into the bed with a contented sigh. Your whole body was shivering in aftershocks, small waves of pleasure making you clench around his softening length.

He eased himself down onto your left side, gathering you into his chest. His heart hammered beneath his shining skin, sweat collecting along the grooves of muscle and his hairline.

“You're incredible,” he murmured, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to your bruised lips. “Never thought I'd see you beg for me.”

You couldn't even think of a rebuttal, all of the attitude wrung out of your body like a sponge. You just swatted at his chest, though it took a concerted effort to even lift your arm.

“In all fairness, I’d beg like a dog for you,” he whispered, smiling.

“How the mighty fall,” you teased, kissing underneath his jaw.

You both were quiet for a few moments, breathing in time with one another, your heart beats synchronizing. Peace like you hadn't felt in years settled over you, an overwhelming *rightness* that welded your fractured heart together again.

This was the reason you came to Forks, even if you didn't know it at the time. Your soul was searching for his.

“So…” he shifted to look down at you. “Ready to go to dinner at Sam’s?”

You groaned, burying your head into his neck as he burst out laughing.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

aggggghhh, I love him.

Hope you enjoyed! 🫶

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 07

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

Richmond, Virginia, March 20, 2015

“Thank you so much for being here once again!” Gratitude seemed to pour from her voice and adorn her smile. Everyone at Pearl’s bar cheered whenever you stepped on stage and sighed in disappointment when you announced the last song.

It felt almost too surreal.

Gradually, a certain confidence began to settle, and the small stage of that bar—bathed in cozy, colorful lights, walls adorned with posters of '90s bands, and a warm audience—felt more and more like home. Maybe it was a bit arrogant to think you were born for this, but what if you were?

“Did I tell you how good you are today?” His voice reached you just as your hand slid over the zipper after storing the guitar away. You didn’t even need to turn around to recognize the presence that filled the space.

He’d been here. Every single day. For a month.

With the uncanny ability to make the blood vessels in your face dilate, painting your skin crimson, and sending chills up your arms just by hearing the timbre of his voice. Turning around and meeting his brown eyes, sparkling like a precious gem every time they met yours, sent your body into an involuntary reaction.

There was absolutely no way you could stop yourself from smiling when he was by your side, even if the swarm of butterflies nesting in your stomach caused a slight discomfort.

“You say that every time, Noah…” you muttered so softly you thought he hadn’t heard.

“That’s because I’m your biggest fan.”

After flashing a wavering smile and shaking your head to mask the flustered feeling creeping in, you went back to rolling up the sound cables. After every performance, it was your duty to tidy up the place and clean the empty bar before heading home.

Pearl had offered you a spot in the small house she shared with her son in the back of the bar. There weren’t separate bedrooms or many rooms to keep you from bumping into one another, but to you, it was perfect—a place to sleep, eat, and shower.

“Uh…” Noah seemed to rehearse his words, hands buried in his pockets and shoulders hunched as he followed you around the stage. “It’s not that late, and I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me?”

Your body froze in place for a few seconds, cables coiled around your fingers.

“I mean…” he rushed to correct himself. “Don’t get me wrong, please. It’s just an invitation to grab a drink or some food. I promise I’ll get you home before your parents notice you’re gone, or I can talk to them if you’d like, and…”

“I’ll go.”

Finally, he fell silent, his rapid string of words nearly robbing him of breath. Noah slumped his shoulders, and it was hard to tell whether he was surprised you’d agreed or just catching his breath after pulling an Eminem stunt.

“Cool!” was all he managed to say, still looking dazed.

“I just need to finish organizing the sound equipment and cleaning up the bar. If you don’t mind waiting.”

“No. No. No! Of course, I don’t mind waiting.” Noah assured, already glancing at the rest of the disorganized bar. “Actually, I’ve got a better idea.”

It didn’t take long for the place to become a true mess, thanks to Noah’s enthusiasm and the old jukebox in the corner with the help of a coin. Chairs atop tables, soapy water covering the floor, while you both wielded brooms, belting out a metal version of Love Story by Taylor Swift that you’d created. Noah handled the growls, and you performed the melodic verses, sliding across the slippery floor.

For the second time, it struck you how your voices complemented each other, even if it was just a silly game while cleaning a bar that reeked of stale drinks and cigarettes. He seemed to enjoy himself so much that, while pushing water across the floor, you couldn’t help but steal glances at his perfectly aligned smile—a masterpiece framed in laughter.

With unsteady steps dodging the puddles of soap, your body suddenly lost balance. Noah’s quick reflexes allowed him to drop his broom and catch you just in time before you hit the ground.

If there was music still playing, you couldn’t tell what it was anymore. A faint ringing buzzed in your ears as your eyes locked with his.

There wasn’t a single scientific explanation as to why his eyes gleamed so brightly in your presence, and even after seeing him every day for a month at the back of the audience, it still felt like the first time.

“Easy there, little storm!” His voice was soft, carrying a breath of mint as strands of his hair fell across his face. “A hospital date isn’t exactly on my agenda.”

Slowly, Noah helped you back to your feet, his laughter mingling with yours as you both steadied yourselves. Returning to your brooms, you remembered what you were supposed to be doing.

Pearl’s bar was finally back in order—chairs down, floor spotless, stage organized, dishes washed. The strong scent of disinfectant made Noah sneeze, drawing a laugh from you when you saw his reddened nose from the allergy. He kindly helped you gather your belongings, but as you were about to leave, heavy rain poured outside, making him groan in disappointment.

“This wasn’t part of the plan,” he grumbled, gazing at the downpour with a less-than-pleased expression. Somehow, he looked adorable, pouting like that.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the rain?” you teased, shrugging off your jacket and tossing it to the floor by the door along with your bag and phone.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Noah asked, furrowing his brows in a mix of concern, trailing after your mischievous smile as you walked backward into the rain. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to get soaked for no reason. We could wait it out or reschedule, and…”

“Boy, you’re so…”

“Boring?” he offered.

“Methodical,” you corrected, raising a finger in the air for emphasis. “You’re afraid of making mistakes, turning it into a constant competition with yourself to make everything perfect. But I have a question for you: When was the last time you felt free?”

The words seemed to strike him, and for a moment, you hesitated, fearing you’d overstepped, noticing how he froze in place. Life had always been a sea of opportunities to you, no matter what they were. You’d always felt alone, even in a crowd, and nothing had stopped you from living.

Nothing had cared enough to cage you, and that made you free.

The trance broke. Noah shook his head, banishing his inner doubts. A smile formed on his lips as he shed his jacket, tossing his phone alongside your things, and sprinted into the rain, squinting against the droplets.

You instinctively began running down the long, empty road, your laughter tangling with his, filling the air. Noah made it a race; taller than you, his long strides were worth two of yours.

Rain clung to your skin, hair plastered to your face, strands obscuring your vision as you desperately glanced over your shoulder, afraid of being caught. With a playful grin, he bit his lip, struggling to see through the downpour.

His laughter was the best song you’d ever heard, and your heart longed to play it on repeat until it soothed the storm raging inside.

When your legs gave out, surrendering, Noah caught you in a surprise move, hoisting you over his shoulder. Your laughter spilled freely, your stomach aching from the joy. Spinning together in the rain, the cold seemed insignificant as adrenaline warmed your bodies.

A dance without music moved you both as Noah clasped your hand, twirling you, your toes barely touching the ground. Every time you lifted your face to the sky, feeling the raindrops and cool breeze, your lips and his curved upward simultaneously.

Attempting another spin, Noah’s foot slipped, sending you both tumbling to the ground. He softened your fall with his arm, and once again, your eyes locked, separated only by the strange-tasting water falling from the sky and dripping from your chins.

Every detail of his face was perfectly sculpted, a maze where you could easily lose yourself—his deep, hopeful, and fiercely brown eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that, boy,” you whispered, almost breathless, as he propped himself up on one arm. “I’m still going to break your heart.”

“I dare you, little storm,” Noah said, his gaze fixed on you as though spellbound, his free hand brushing away a stray lock from your face to study it closely before claiming your lips in one swift motion.

Every ounce of turmoil that had knotted your insides over the past weeks washed away with the rain, as if a new sensation took over your body. Your arms looped around his neck, fingers threading through the damp hair at his nape. There was no other choice for him but to stay. You wanted him to stay.

Noah’s long fingers pressed into your back, gathering the soaked fabric of your shirt, pulling your bodies together with deliberate slowness. He cupped your face, deepening the kiss with an urgency that mirrored the moment he’d first crossed your path.

Noses brushing gently, you both smiled softly, his lips returning to yours. Tilting his head skyward, eyes closed as he murmured something unintelligible. Noah laughed softly, strands of his hair sticking to his forehead and the curve of his nose.

"Please, little storm, tell me I'll see you tomorrow," he whispered, almost like a plea, as his lips brushed against your skin, refusing to open his eyes.

"Absolutely, yes," your voice confirmed as you slowly lifted his face, your fingers tangling in the damp strands of his hair.

A second meeting in a dark basement isn’t exactly what you imagined.

Noah had come down with a terrible cold after last night’s adventure, and in an attempt to stop you from risking his life again, he suggested you come watch his band rehearse. His friends and bandmates were introduced as Folio, Jolly, and Ruffilo. The guys welcomed you with enthusiasm, and for a moment, you felt like you’d known them for years, so naturally did they make you feel part of their group.

“What’s with that face?” Ruffilo asked as soon as the first song ended, slinging his instrument off his shoulder. “Don’t tell me it’s that bad.”

“You have the privilege of seeing us play a private show, and that’s the face you make? Noah, your friend here is kind of rude!” The guy behind the drums joked in an easygoing tone, and you couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

Sitting cross-legged on the couch, you nibbled on your lip while munching on a bag of chips. It wasn’t like you were a music expert, though you’d been breathing it in like air for as long as you could remember, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

“I think it was badass!” As soon as you spoke, everyone slumped their shoulders in relief.

“I take back everything I said about her.”

“But something’s missing…” you added, standing up from the couch and brushing your fingers together.

“I take back everything I just said about her.” The guy on the drums simply couldn’t stay quiet.

“Folio, let the girl speak!” Jolly interrupted, and Folio quickly mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key. “What exactly do you think is missing? I’ve had that same feeling and would love to know I’m not going crazy.”

You began pacing back and forth, your steps deliberate, your fingers curling inside your jeans pockets. Jolly’s question made you reflect on the current metal scene. All their references seemed focused on hardcore, where every song followed a single rhythm.

“How about taking advantage of the fact that the band doesn’t have a set direction yet and trying something different? Like metalcore—it allows for a mix of guttural and melodic vocals, low tunings, and fast riffs. It keeps the sound fresh and avoids the songs blending into each other when the tracks change.” You finished your thought, and the guys exchanged looks as though a divine light had suddenly shone upon them. “Did I say something dumb?”

“Actually, you said something interesting…” Jolly seemed lost in thought for a few seconds, tapping his fingers on a wooden surface.

“Noah said you sing rock and punk at the bar where you work,” the guy holding an energy drink offered you some, but you politely declined. “Why not try doing the melodic vocals on one of our songs? I promise it’s just a test, and we’ll leave you alone afterward. But seriously, look at our desperate faces!”

Ruffilo made a dramatic pout, clasping his hands together like a kid begging for a new pet. Your body tensed at the idea of meddling where you didn’t belong, and you regretted even opening your mouth. Your gaze met Noah’s, who simply winked and nodded, his lips silently mouthing, “You’re good” over and over.

Suddenly, his hand appeared next to yours, holding a microphone. As much as you wanted to refuse, the words stuck in your throat as Noah took your hand and placed the mic in it.

There was no turning back.

“THAT WAS FUCKING AWESOME!” Folio yelled as he struck the final cymbal.

“You were absolutely right! We needed to combine guttural and melodic vocals!” Jolly, almost talking to himself, continued tapping his fingers on a wooden surface. He gave what looked like the shadow of a smile, and that seemed like a good sign.

“So it seems my plan worked…”

Noah surprised you by wrapping his arms around you from behind, planting a kiss on your temple and lingering as he inhaled the scent of your hair.

“Plan?” You turned abruptly to face him.

“I brought you here because ever since I first saw you at the bar and we sang together, I knew I wanted you to sing with me in my band—now our band—and I won’t take no for an answer!” he declared, pinching the tip of your nose. “You’re good. You’re really good!”

Your shocked gaze flicked from him to the other band members, who looked just as excited as he was.

“Welcome to Bad Omens, little storm.”

After saying goodbye to the boys, Noah promised to drive you home. While he finished grabbing his things from the garage, you decided to step outside for some air and take the opportunity to smoke a cigarette.

Becoming the vocalist of a band at this point in your life wasn’t exactly on your bingo card for the year, and you had no idea how you’d balance it with your job at the bar, especially since saving money was still your top priority. But everything had felt so simple down there. There was no trace of her voice in your head telling you that your voice was as cursed as the abomination you were. There was absolutely nothing capable of stealing the feeling that coursed through you every time your voice and Noah’s harmonized.

It was impossible to predict where this would lead in the future, but for the first time, you felt happy. You belonged to something where you could be yourself without it costing you your freedom.

You were finally you.

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the screech of tires on asphalt. Startled, you turned to see a car speeding toward you from the other side of the road, threatening to mount the sidewalk where you stood. In an impulsive move, you threw yourself to the side, landing hard on the rough, gravel-strewn ground, a gasp of pain escaping your lips.

When you looked at the car—one you knew all too well—your entire body tensed, frozen on the ground. For a moment, you forgot about the scrape on your arm as your eyes locked on the driver.

“Found you, little girl,” Seth announced, grinning beneath his scruffy beard.

“Hey, what’s going on out here?” Noah’s voice, muffled by his hurried footsteps, cut through the tension. As he approached, Seth rolled up the window and shifted into reverse, speeding away down the wrong side of the road.

When Noah got closer, his brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of the situation. He quickly crouched down, and you threw yourself into his arms. Without saying a single word, you clung to him so tightly that your fingers dug deep into his skin, your legs trembling uncontrollably.

“Shhh,” he whispered, wrapping his arms even tighter around you to hold you securely. “I’m not going anywhere.”

But everything seemed to hit your mind all at once. In seconds, you weren’t in Noah’s arms anymore—you were somewhere else, a filthy place as vile as your skin felt and as repulsive as the stench surrounding you. Your arms and legs turned immobile, locking up like a cramp, as the sensation of him closing in grew stronger and stronger. You wanted to scream, but nothing came out. He had severed your vocal cords because he enjoyed watching you cry.

Seth had stolen everything from you. And no matter where you tried to rebuild yourself, their shadow would always be there.

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @anarchydomainglory ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @foliosgirl

[tarot-by-e11e]

PAC: "Little Warnings"

(this is strictly for entertainment purposes only)

Unfortunately, this is gonna hurt. So, don't read through this if you're already going through some pretty harsh stuff.

When I felt called to do this PAC, I felt that we needed to be humbled and check ourselves occasionally to see if we were being a bit too arrogant. It's such an odd feeling to be called to do this theme for this specific PAC, but hey, even if not every loving call out may be meant for others, every message is still, in some shape or form, valid. Not all of it may resonate with you, and that is still okay~

But I am manifesting that you will encounter this when the universe deems you need to be lovingly knocked down a few pegs~

Nothing wrong with a little loving call-out?

Pile 1:

Cards Pulled:

Queen of Wands, Hierophant, 5 of Coins

Hi Pile 1, if you chose this pile, whenever part of your journey you read this, here are your little warnings you might need to know, so only take what resonates with you, okay?

"Aren't you getting a bit over your head lately? Nothing wrong about being confident in your own abilities but you don't need to rub it in other people's faces that you know you're that Queen B~"

"There's a fine line between confidence and arrogance, my dear. If you don't want to be perceived as someone abrasive or cheap, you know what you need to do."

"Traditions are great and all but there's always room to make new traditions. Honoring the past doesn't mean you have to continue living in the past."

"Which would you prefer being ruthlessly right all the time and be hated? Or learn how to communicate compassionately without sacrificing your truth?"

"Don't expect different results when you're clearly stuck in your ways."

"No matter how much you mean well, if you don't know how to respectfully convey your messages properly, you will not be understood in a way that you'd prefer."

"Don't expect other people to pick up on your body language and subtle hints. Not everyone is as painfully self aware as you."

"Your Past pain is valid but your attitude is not."

"You keep behaving like you can't get passed your trauma from your past then btch out on how cruel life was for you, so you project your hurt towards others, especially towards people who are living the life that you want. Seriously, pick a struggle and push through it. Make it make sense."

"You are not bound to the environment you grew up in, because you have the power to change your destiny. Remember, at the end of the day, only you can save yourself from your circumstance."

"You are more capable than you let yourself believe you are. You just chose to live in your pain when you know you have to put in the effort for you to change your life for the better."

"You are bound by your own self imposed limitations. You are imprisoned in your mind by your own fear."

Channeled Song:

(this concludes the end of your reading)

(this is strictly for entertainment purposes only)

Pile 2:

Cards Pulled:

Queen of Swords, Chariot, Strength

Hi Pile 2, if you chose this pile, whenever part of your journey you read this, here are your little warnings you might need to know, so only take what resonates with you, okay?

- "I'm all up for honesty, just not verbal abuse. So be discerning if the receiver of the message is too soft hearted or easily traumatised."

- "Words are double edged swords. The same words that can heal can also break someone's heart."

- "Discern which battles are worth fighting for. Know when to retreat your words when you know that how you speak may bring more harm than good."

- "Being assertive and a goal getter is nice and all, but remember, your passion may be misinterpreted as abrasive and uncouth. Remember to respect other's personal boundaries."

- "Going after what you want is normal, disregarding someone's feelings and free will isn't."

- "Think before you speak or do."

- "Your way isn't the only way."

- "Impulsive behaviour leaves you susceptible to disaster and unnecessary quarrel. It won't kill you to think before you leap."

- "You don't need to so harsh and dominant to be perceived as strong."

- "Having strength does not warrant you to be mannerless and disrespectful."

- "Hypervigilance doesn't mean you're strong. It means you've been pushed to the corner where you had no one to rely on, especially during the times you need anyone the most."

- "Being able to do everything on your own doesn't mean you don't need help. You can lean on to others unharmed too. Not everyone is out to get you."

- "Just because you used to being in pain and on your own, it doesn't mean that what you've gone through is something you deserve. Don't catastrophize every bad thing that's happened to you as a punishment from the universe. Unfortunately, bad things happen for no reason. You were just unfortunately at the wrong place in the wrong time."

- "You don't deserve to be stuck in your hyperindepence and wear your lack of trust in others like a badge of honor. Your body can only hold so much trauma before it starts completely wrecking your nervous system and have it physically manifest as an illness. Ex. You struggle to lose weight no matter how much you work out because your body doesn't feel safe to exist. That's why you body stores fat as a cushion to help make it feel safe to exist."

- "How far will you keep pushing the people you love away? Are you waiting for their patience to run out so that you can subconsciously prove to yourself that everyone would leave you?? You're so hellbent in your skewed narrative that feeds your self-sabotaging tendencies and lack of self worth that you'd do anything to have your negative self talk to manifest into your reality. Stop feeding yourself the BS that (If they're meant for me, they'll stay. News Flash, no one wants to willing stay with someone who refuse to grow out of their own toxicity. No one can save you but yourself. EVEN YOUR LOVED ONES HAS LIMITS TOO."

- "Be a dear and search up the meaning of the ff. words: GASLIGHTING, STONE WALLING, COVERT NARCISSIST, ACCOUNTABILITY, EMOTIONAL MATURITY, JEALOUSY, SOFT FBOI/GURL, SHADOW WORK, MALADAPTIVE DAYDREAMING (Feel free to see which words hurts the most for you and start working on that)"

- "No one can save you from your own self imposed mental prison of scarcity and unworthiness. People around you can only do so much for you. The power to trap you and free you has always been in your hands."

- "Are you done thinking that everyone is out to get you? Hopefully you'd come to realise that people don't think about you as much as you think they do. Everyone's busy barely surviving their lives to be bothered to meddle with yours."

- "You're not as strong as much as a target you think you are, and that's okay. You don't have to be in everyone's mind and in everyone's DM to feel important. You are worthy and deserving of all regardless if you are in the spotlight or behind the scenes."

- "Two things can be true at the same time. You are the Main Character of your life and also be a background character is someone else's storyline."

- "What's serious for you may not be serious for someone else. So don't expect others to adjust for you when you made zero efforts to properly communicate what you wanted to say."

Channeled Song:

(this concludes the end of your reading)

(this is strictly for entertainment purposes only)

Pile 3:

Cards Pulled:

7 of Swords, Ace of Swords, 6 of Wands

Hi Pile 3, if you chose this pile, whenever part of your journey you read this, here are your little warnings you might need to know, so only take what resonates with you, okay?

- "Just because someone broke your heart it doesn't give you the right to leave a trail of broken hearts in your path. Your pain is valid but your attitude and actions afterwards aren't."

- "Being betrayed in the past doesn't mean you should play and to toy with someone else's feelings. You are becoming the player that you hated the game for."

- "Not all people mean to use and abuse you. Other people are just good natured and mean what they say. Don't confuse someone's genuity because someone else broke your trust before."

- "Discernment is highly encouraged, projecting your pain and jealousy isn't."

- "It's great to chase new ideas, what's not great is to chase the idea of someone new then cheat on your current partner just because things got bored. Don't be a part of the problem."

- "Don't even dare entertain anyone new just because you chose to be lazy and not put in the effort to communicate on how your current relationship can get better. Emotionally opening up to someone is cheating. Having a work husband/wife is still cheating. Putting yourself in any situation that would cause your partner to doubt your loyalty is a breeding ground of disaster of the life you currently know."

- "If you caved in and cheat now, you are bound to cheat again. If you allow yourself to be tempted now, you have proven yourself unworthy to even be in a loving relationship. In short: you have become part of the problem. So don't expect receiving anything you refused to give. You have no right to the privileges of an exclusive and healthy relationship if you fck around and find out. (because you actively chose to play whack a mole and find out what it's like to have std because of your recklessness)."

Channeled Song:

- "How far will you go just to win? Will you cheat on your partner just to have a promotion? Will you pay someone to ruin your competition just to win? Will you start a smear campaign just to go ahead? Will you drop little white lies to make yourself appear as the better option? How illegal and immoral would you allow yourself to become just to get ahead? Is it worth it? Lose your friends and family along the way? Just to win that empty cup?"

- "Will you abandon your morals just to win?"

(this concludes the end of your reading)

(this is strictly for entertainment purposes only)

Pile 4:

Cards Pulled:

6 of Swords, Knight of Cups, 7 of Wands

Hi Pile 4, if you chose this pile, whenever part of your journey you read this, here are your little warnings you might need to know, so only take what resonates with you, okay?

- "Unfortunately, leaving the problem behind without any explanation or letter won't make it go away."

- "Ghosting, just to protect your ego, is never the answer. Face your issues like an adult and accept the consequences of your actions accordingly."

- "No amount of dr*gs, alcohol, smoke or flings can help you tun away from your own willful ignorance. You can't run away from your own feelings. The only way to get away/rid of your problem is by facing it. This is one of the moments in a person's life where DELULU is NOT the SOLULU."

- "Fleeing the country won't keep you from feeling your feelings."

- "Just because you understand how people work and emotionally operate, it doesn't mean that you should use that to your unfair advantage. Stop binge watching those dark psychology videos. And you wonder why people pick a bad vibe from you? What do you expect? You are indeed the problem: the not so covert manipulative problem."

- "Stop using the promise of helping others with their dreams just so you can trick them in making your dreams come true at their expense."

- "You can only spin a web of lies so far."

- "You're not as convincing of a gaslighter as you think you are. People can see through your lies, they just chose not to speak up because, yes, they do it out of pity."

- "Resilience is incredibly admired but bulldozing other people out of your way to get the results is out of the question."

- "Not seeing the results that you want then btching about not having slept enough and feeling like you're about to collapse? You chose to overwork and overburden yourself to the point of burn out, and you're shocked that your health and sanity is fcked up? Dear, make it make sense."

- "Has it ever occurred to you that just because you put in the effort to win someone over, it doesn't mean that they're obligated to choose you? Free will and preferences are a thing, you know? You can be everything and more to that person, and that person is not required nor obligated to choose you. You can the most ideal man/woman and still not be chosen."

- "Don't expect exclusivity from someone who told you from the beginning that they're there to fck around. You can't change someone just because you stayed. You can only keep someone that wants to be kept by you."

Channeled Song:

(this concludes the end of your reading)

(this is strictly for entertainment purposes only)

Feel free to check out my feedback herePaid Readings are AVAILABLE

In all honesty, I feel so bad for releasing this PAC but there's this oddly strong gut feeling that we all need to be humbled and wake up to the toxicity we all chose to lie with at night.

In fact, some things we've gone through, unfortunately are the results of our own lack of accountability.

Sorry if I hurt your feelings, but some painful warnings need to be said.

Notice:

Exchange Readings are OPEN

Feel free to send me some support in the form of tips,

Head to my Buy-Me-A-Coffee here 🍀

[katierosefun]

okay so now that i’ve officially finished watching leverage i just want to say that maybe i’m obsessed with this show on multiple levels and something about how it hits so many itches in that it’s about found family and it’s about fucking over bad, rich guys (no billionaire bootlicking in this show! and i fucking love it) and it’s also about how sometimes the bad guys are the only good guys you get and it’s also about how we are all stronger together it’s about how at the start of this show, we have all of these characters who are largely used to working alone and being alone and yet the show concludes that ultimately, we are better when we are together and by being together, we might be able to leave something behind that is bigger and brighter for the next people in our generation and no man is an island and no person is meant to beat goliath on their own or whatever

[padfootastic]

if you were to summarise sirius' personality and character traits, how would you do it?

hi hi hi! so sorry for long this took but okay, so, let’s do this.

so, his CORE trait for me will always be loyalty, hands down. i once waxed poetic about sirius’ devotion to the potters to my friends for like, half an hour straight (one of them actually teared up). the way he talks about james even after so many years, how his first instinct is always to look out for harry, how everyone talked about him & j even when they believed he was the traitor—all of it just really drives home how he gives all of himself to someone when he decides to. if someone’s his person then he’ll do whatever it takes for them (if you’re not, tho? ur lucky if u even get a look in ur direction)

he’s also very competent. he was probably brought up as a pampered heir, with access to all the resources his little heart desired, so coupled w his innate ability/potential/aptitude, it becomes a deadly combination. he uses logic to work through things, prides himself on his intelligence, and probably wouldn’t like hanging out with people who can’t atleast match him in some sense (so laziness/incompetence grates badly).

as a corollary, he’s also pretty arrogant, in that casual sense that old money people are ykwim? he’s had the world on a silver platter his entire life, and even when he’s cut off from it, it’s still a part of him. there’s also the fact that he’s got a lot going for him—looks, power, smarts wise—and that just adds to it. so it can be off putting or it can be hot or both, but he has a superiority complex and he doesn’t exactly hide it. less interaction with the plebs, the better for him.

irreverence and dark humor!!! sirius copes using morbid jokes and making people uncomfortable; he has slight control issues and this way, he makes sure everyone’s always on their toes. it’s also like,,,a way to kind of gauge how others will react to him based on how they deal w his humor. bc he’s not sunshine and roses, right? and he doesn’t want anyone treating him like it or expecting him to be so. and in a way, their reactions to his jokes correlated to their degree of acceptance for him.

intense. when it comes to things he likes, he’s very passionate about it, almost with a single minded focus. and it can get A Lot. he operates in a lot of extremes, right? so either 0 or 100 and this comes across in the way he interacts with people, the level of interest he shows to things, and how much effort he puts in, if it’s His Thing, then he won’t leave a stone unturned but if he doesn’t care? then he will not give a single shit

soooo, these are some of the things i very strongly believe in for sirius 🙈 tell me what u think? (and as always, @artemisia-black has some great metas on sirius’ character so i’d recommend checking those out for sure!)

[bashvaughn]

Sebastian, really, wasn’t listening. He was, but he wasn’t, he just sort of kept walking, nodding, head in flurry as he wanted out. How stupid of him to make such assumptions so quickly upon return her return, make such assumptions that she would ever feel the same way about him as he might be feeling right now for her. His heart was dripping in both sadness and anger, anger at himself for being so stupid. For think this might be a possibility. What was he even thinking? So he kept walking, racing down the stairs as he noticed the maids walking through the main living room. They said good-morning in off-beat unison but he didn’t care. “Get a taxi booked.” He muttered as he made his way to the bottom of the stairs. The maids gave one another a subtle look only a woman would understand. Most of the time, Sebastian was, at a bare minimum, respectful towards the cleaning staff of his home, but they knew all too well that he could have these moments of arrogance and dismissiveness. This was one of those moments.

They hesitated for a moment, before he added, “A taxi. I need a taxi for my… for my friend. Now. Please.” He was looking at the ground. One nodded. “Certainly!” She scurried off to find the landline. She got a sense he wanted this “friend” gone. As if on cue, they saw a stranger’s face at the top of the stairs. Ah. Suddenly, things made sense. Sebastian had a bit of a tendency to invite “friends” over since he’d rid himself of that snobby ex-girlfriend of his. Many times they’d had to turn the stereo up higher when his “friends” had stopped by. Taking note of the girl at the top of the stairs, the women almost squinted a little; did they know her? She was a stranger… but she looked a little familiar. Like one of those girls they saw in the magazines they read. Regardless, she had a natural air about her that not any other girl who’d graced these stairs had carried before.

Then she called his name. On instinct, he span on his heels, looking up at her from the bottom of the stairs. He hesitated for a moment, before coming clean. “I’ve booked you a taxi.” He spoke a little bluntly, nodding a little and gesturing to the maids. “It can take you back home. It’s cold outside.” A poor excuse but anything to get this situation over and done with. He just wanted to melt into the floor, privately, in peace. “We can, forget, all about… that. Please.” He scratched the back of his neck, before shuffling to the side and pointing behind him. “I’m gonna, uhm…” All he could do was trail off. He had nothing left in him.

a few months prior…

A few months prior, Sebastian and Jocalyn as a collective, had been nothing but distant, childhood memories of the past. Sweet and innocent, the budding friendship had come to a sudden and abrupt end when Josie and her family had travelled to Europe and further for some few years whilst her father and his band had completed successful tours after tours. And what was left behind was a particularly gutted 10 year-old Sebastian, having lost his best friend, and though today he didn’t grow so upset when he thought about Jo as he had done in his younger youth, his thoughts often crossed back to those times. He wondered how she was, what she looked like, and where she even was. Had she kept the necklace he’d gotten her? Did she even remember him?

He wasn’t entirely the same as he had been as a child. He was a sweet boy growing up, polite and kind, but after all these years, there wasn’t really much left of Seb Vaughn from 1988. He’d sort of just, well, vanished, one day, faded into the background. His older brother Nathaniel’s death had left a deep and empty wound in the bottom of his heart, still raw and unhealed seven years on. It had left him angry at the world and unable to express his emotions, when really, inside, there was still just that little boy who’d never really grown up, a little boy who just needed some assertion that whatever was going on inside his brain was okay. He didn’t spend much time at home, any opportunity to be out the house, he took; his relationship with his parents wasn’t exactly the best, not since Nate had died. It was hard watching your mother often breakdown once the working day finished.

Out the house. Yes. Being out the house was good. A party! He loved parties, rich kid parties were the best. They had the best sound systems, the most liquor, the biggest pools. The angry teenage boy wasn’t very popular amongst the younger students, amongst those that 1995 would class as “uncool”, as over time had turned himself into quite a bit of a bully, a thug or sorts who enjoyed taunting those less fortunate or lucky as him. But to the majority? He was rather sort after, envied in ways. Guys wanted to be him: he was the tallest kid in school, built strong and toned at 6’5” with a sharp jaw, played quarterback on the school football team, always had his brown curtained locks of hair perfectly swept back at all times. The girls wanted to be with him for all those very reasons. But sure, despite having a fling or two over the years, a couple of nights tangled in bedsheets, he strangely paid them little mind. He paid very few people any mind these days. Or anything.

He arrived as the sun had just set. A final all-out party in the school holiday before they returned back for the new academic year. One last send off. Some kid who lived just outside the city in some sprawling mansion. He walked up the steps of the house entrance with a bounce almost, pack of beer in his hand, his good friend since childhood, Brian, walking beside him. He wore a pair of blue denim jeans, a black belt secured around them, a red plaid shirt tucker inside, sleeves rolled up, top buttons undone, a tiny, silver hoop in his ear, cigarette packet in the pocket. The door wide open, he stepped inside to a house almost bursting full of students. It was loud and chaotic, full of booming music and disorganisation. The perfect party.

He was a presence amongst his peers, that could be said. Idolised in many ways despite the element of fear from some. You had to be when you’d just been made football captain for the new year after the previous one had graduated. He had a pretty intense reputation. Walking inside, he was greeted with happy cheers and welcomes from the students, the owner of the house walking over to him with a wide grin. “Vaughn, you made it!” Sebastian’s smile was never as big as anyone else, it was more of a just an upwards turn. Nodding, he greeted his friend, shoulder tapping him as a hello. “Sup, man.” He responded, ignoring the way people turned their heads a little. Turning to some of the partygoers, the house owner clapped his hands, “New captain himself, ladies and gents!” The teens nearby cheered, some downing their drinks as a toast of sorts.

Laughing quietly, he shook his head, “Touching — lemme get a drink, man.” He beckoned towards the large, open kitchen ahead, beginning to hear over in search of a clean red cup.

Sebastian was, however, obliviously unaware that there was also another big revelation in attendance tonight. A unexpected storm that arrived back with an awestruck greeting from students all around.

[starlooove]

The reason timtam is superior is bc there’s no way to ship that and not realize how pathetic and lame tim is

[astralogus]

difficult person test.

from: stolen from the dash ♡ 

[stargazeraldroth]

Rainy here again to agree with you on your tags!

People definitely get very… Intense? About how very specific characters are portrayed by the fandom, regardless of how canon that portrayal may or may not be. I swear, it’s the same reason I interpret Error as such an asshole sometimes, in my own AUs- I’d be much more open to him being a better person if people weren’t so. Damn. Insistent. On him being the good guy and slandering Ink in the process.

If 404 is as hyped up as Error’s alleged moral superiority is, then I can see why it’d annoy you so much… I don’t actually know much about Alphatale and the characters, but it seems like something that’d get to me, especially if it’s played in conjunction with making Ink out to be the bad guy.

🌧️ Rainy Anon 🌧️

I'm gonna keep it real with all of you, I genuinely don't remember much about Alphatale. I remember bits and pieces, but I haven't actually checked the AU's canon in a while... both for Alphatale and Alphaverse. I don't even know what the difference between them is. All I know is that I care about 404 and sometimes the Astral Mother when her involvement is convenient for me, and that I feel like I'm entering an active minefield whenever I have to go to the wiki to check something.

Honestly, I do kinda understand why people can be so insistent about sticking to the canon. I do think knowing what's canon and what isn't is important! I'm not trying to downplay the canon or the work put into the AU. While I'm not the biggest fan of Alphatale/Alphaverse, I do think there's a lot of passion and care put into the project by its creator, and I admire that. I want to be like that, able to create and work on an ambitious AU project regardless of what people might think of it! I honestly don't have much serious beef with the AU, all of my irritation and dislike for it comes from people who try to pressure me into perfectly abiding by it. It's the same situation as my relationship with the FGOD concept: I don't hate it, I actually quite like the concept, but fans end up ruining it for me.

And before anyone says anything, yes I know, I shouldn't let other people ruin things for me. But after so long of the same stuff, it gets tiring. I feel like if I were to include 404 in something and then abide by Alphatale canon, it would be more limiting to my creative freedom than its inclusion is worth. My creative freedom- in my own AU- would be far too limited if I took every canon factor into consideration. And that's not fair to me, or to anyone who is trying to make an AU.

Because, see, people generally disregard the complete canon for characters like Ink, Error, and the twins on an almost daily basis. When you make an AU for Undertale, you kinda have to accept that people might interpret your characters differently and aren't guaranteed to stick to the canon details. That goes for anything in general, not just the Undertale community. But it especially applies if your AU/characters are very popular in such a big community. You don't have to agree with it, but you do have to accept that things like this will happen. Not just as a character creator, but as a fan of such works too, because I can guarantee that everyone has strayed from canon at least once. If everyone strictly abided by canon, I bet more than half of the Undertale community's content wouldn't exist. Hell, even Underverse- one of the most popular pieces right now- wouldn't exist because parts of it conflict with the characters' canons.

For example, Nightmare canonically cannot feel anything other than negative emotions. Dream cannot hate anyone, even the douchebag that he calls his brother. I believe it's canon that Ink doesn't remember tearing his soul apart, but I'm not 100% sure, I think I'm like 50/50 on that one. And yet, we don't always take these factors into consideration when making content.

AUs exist for fun. The whole point is to have fun with a bunch of different ideas. And when it stops being fun and feels more like a chore, where there's too many set-in-stone rules to follow based on what characters you include, then there's a problem. If we don't get shit for turning Ink into evil incarnate or wobbifying Error into the UwU-pocalypse that everyone hated, then why should people get shit for straying even the tiniest bit from 404's canon? I'm genuinely asking, what makes 404 so special compared to everyone else? What makes 404 above everyone else to the point where we aren't allowed to have even the smallest bit of fun with his character? What makes 404 the one where we have no choice but to follow every single aspect of canon?

I nerf 404 when I include him in stuff. I make him weaker than he is in canon. Why? Because it's convenient for me and fits my AUs. If I kept him as overpowered, untouchable, and unbeatable as he is in canon, then there's no point in including him at all. Because then he could either just solve the problem with a snap of his fingers or, in the situation where I have him as the villain, there's nothing that can be done. I change his character to fit into the AU because that's the only way his existence will work.

And I know what you're gonna say, "But Stargazer, you don't HAVE to include him!" yeah, you're right. But I also don't have to include Ink. I don't have to include Error, the twins, Reaper, CORE, etc. But I still do. Because I like their characters and it's fun. It's the same for 404- I like him and it's fun to use him in a story. Also, some parts of his canon just don't work with the AUs, such as him being Error's mentor. He's also just not as mysterious as some people seem to think he is... if we're taking all of canon into consideration, it's very likely that Ink knows he exists lmao, and it's not just some "I saw someone who looked like Error... but white!" (this sounded funnier in my head)

Also, just wanna mention this piece: Some of the canon with 404's character directly conflicts with the canon of other characters, such as Error, who canonically DOESN'T have a mentor, which makes it counterproductive and hypocritical to the argument of sticking to canon in the first place.

Anyway, I have a lot of feelings about 404 and I have a lot of passion. Unfortunately, I don't have the ability to really communicate my thoughts in a way that's very coherent, so I'm sorry if I'm like. All over the place with this. There was more I wanted to say, I think, but I don't remember what it was. I also wanna give a quick shoutout to those people who comment stuff like "404's the strongest Sans" on stuff where he isn't involved or doesn't exist!!!

I guess the main takeaway from this would be that it is possible to be compliant with canon aspects while also having as much creative freedom as you want, and you shouldn't sacrifice your own enjoyment for your own AU just because of canon. AUs exist because people deviated from canon, so arguing that you absolutely have to abide by canon 100% is going against the very foundation of AUs. And abiding by one AU's canon 100% can interfere with the canon of another AU (for example, I believe Comyet confirmed that Canon Ink wouldn't do the X-Event, but Cross's canon requires Ink to do it, which is a direct conflict/contradiction of canon), so you may as well just have fun with doing whatever the hell you want.

Honestly, I've been pressured into just. Stopping some fanfics entirely because of people constantly leaving comments about my 404 portrayal not being 100% accurate to canon. Yet every other characters gets a free pass?? Erm... okay?? And if you leave comments like that, giving unwanted "corrections", I just have one question for you: Why? Literally why? What do you get from this? What motivates you do to this? And yes, I know I said one question, but I don't care.

Like I don't always like how FGOD stories/AUs portray Ink and/or Dream as villains, but do I leave comments preaching about canon or anything? No, I just stop reading it. I get nothing out of leaving that kind of comment except being an asshole, and I'd probably make the author feel bad. Which I don't want. Their work doesn't exist to cater to my wants and what I think is best, their work exists for THEM. Just like how my AUs and my work exist for me. Yeah, it's fun to share them with people and interacting with others because of them is a nice feeling, but at the end of the day, they only exist because I want them to.

I'm just gonna end it here. My head's starting to hurt and I'm worried that if I continue, I'm gonna get too passionate about my opinions and start sounding cocky or like a righteous ass.

[ibit3u]

Skylar didn’t have time to react nor defend himself. One minute he was standing, mouthing off to the elder vampire. The next, his back collided with brick and he let out a hiss of pain as something cracked. Red eyes glared at James as the younger vampire attempted to break free of the hold, to retaliate. But it was no use. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, James was stronger.

The grip on his throat was like a vice, and while Skylar didn’t need to breathe, he felt himself panicking. Though, James had successfully found a way to silence the kid and allow him room to speak. All Skylar could do was listen and struggle within that grip. Yet those eyes spoke for him, glaring the elder to death. There was so much rage, so much anger and frustration in those eyes. It was clear he wasn’t used to being scalded like this, nor expected to be when he ventured out tonight. Meeting an elder was one thing, but for said elder to be Homelander’s puppet was a whole other can of worms entirely.

A growlhiss left Skylar as he felt that knee to his stomach, nails clawing at that hand around his throat, trying his best to break free. Oh, how he wanted to make James regret his actions, get his own back. He wanted nothing more than to beat the arrogance out of him. He met those eyes dead on with a mirrored look of fury. James may have the upper hand but Skylar was standing his ground…as best he could until his feet were dangling in the air. He squirmed like a caught feline, feral and hissing at the elder in response to the threats and warnings. However, his face fell at the mention of being taken to Homelander.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! I’m not going anywhere near him! I want nothing to do with him except put him six feet under.” Skylar growled, struggling as he was dragged, doing all he could to make it difficult and frustrating for the elder. A true brat indeed. “Actually…on second thought, sure. Take me to your master, dog. I’ll be more than happy to drain him dry. I’ll even let you watch.” He laughed, cruel and mocking, returning the tone he’d been given. “What, you think I’m scared of him?! I despise him with every fibre of my undead being. He’s a narcissistic prick, all show, all glamour. He makes me fucking sick.” Skylar spat, knowing his words got to James, but he didn’t care. He was that frustrated, that angry, he was running his mouth without really thinking.

Skylar still struggled, making things as awkward and difficult for James as possible while he was pulled toward the tower. Despite his efforts, it didn’t stop the inevitable and before long Vought Tower was right in front of them. “You have no idea how satisfying it would be to burn this goddamn tower to the ground with your precious boy scout inside. This is like a modern version of Dracula’s castle. God, I hate cliches.” He huffed, lip curling at the sight of the tower up close. Given it was a public building, he knew he wouldn’t need permission to enter. Even if he did, James seemed fairly set on him meeting Homelander whether he liked it or not.

Of course, just because they arrived at the tower didn’t mean Skylar didn’t stop being awkward and struggling. Oh, no. He was fully set on making James’ life hell, still pulling against that grip, dragging his feet, gripping and holding onto anything he could. Sure, he might be making himself look like an idiot by causing scenes, but he didn’t care. Even as they walked past visitors and employees, Skylar ran his mouth at them. “What’s so special about Homelander anyway?” and “Don’t you think Homelander is getting a bit too old to be doing this sort of thing?” and “Y’know, there’s definitely more to that Flight 37 thing than they’re telling us. Funny how things always fuck up whenever Homelander is involved!”

The instant James answered the phone it was obvious who it was. Skylar had taken a few steps, distancing them both. He was oh so tempted to leave and merge with the night. It would’ve been the perfect opportunity to considering the elder was very much distracted. Except it was the complete change in demeanour that caught Skylar’s attention, made him stop, listen and watch.

His senses could pick up the deep authoritative tone on the other end of the phone. His jaw clenched in disgust and loathing, hating no one more than the fucking Homelander. It made him sick to see the effects he clearly had on the elder vampire. The way he stuttered, cut himself off from speaking. The way he shrank into himself, became unsure. Far less confident. Frankly, it was embarrassing to watch, yet Skylar was frozen in place unable to look away.

Homelander had this vampire wrapped around his gloved fingers so much so that, frankly, it was quite pathetic. What did a vampire have to fear against a mutant Supe? Surely James could end his life if he wanted to. The problem was that by the sounds of things, that’s the last thing he wanted. Skylar’s brow furrowed in confusion. None of this made any sense. Vampires were superior, deadly predators. So why on earth was James rolling over and allowing himself to be ordered around? Questioned?

He shouldn’t care. It was none of his business. He should just leave, take off and find some peace and quiet for the rest of the night. Leave James to lick Homelander’s boots all he wanted. …Yet he needed to know why. Why an elder was reduced to a bumbling, anxious mess at just the voice of Homelander. What was there to fear?

That confused look remained when James ended the call and took a moment to gather himself. And then he couldn’t help but scoff laugh. “No, no, no. You can’t possibly expect me to take you seriously after that. Where were we? I was just leaving actually. Seems you’ve been tasked with a very important fetch quest, little doggy.” Skylar taunted, no longer intimidated by the elder vampire.

The young vampire took a few steps before pausing to turn and glare at James with a look of disgust. “You’re a sorry excuse for a vampire. You give us a bad name. The way you roll over for that…fucking maniac…for a human! It’s pathetic. You’re supposed to be stronger, wiser. Yet you let him order you around?! No. You’re not a vampire. You’re a goddamn lapdog licking at his boots.” Skylar all but spat, shaking his head. “We’re done here. Perhaps one day I’ll meet an elder who has a goddamn fucking backbone.”

[angelfic]

— THE WAY I LOVED YOU

pairing: theodore nott x reader

summary: in which theodore nott will do anything to get you to go out with him, but you’re just as stubborn rejecting him

warnings: swearing, kissing, dangerous stunts and theo being stupid (ryan gosling in the notebook style), unedited since i wrote this in the middle of the night on no sleep again lol. enemies to lovers if you squint a bit

author’s note: since everyone loves theo i’ll pretend this isn’t just for my own selfish needs <3 (especially the notebook reference) also surprise surprise mc is a gryffindor as always, you’d never know i was a slytherin my bad guys… as always let me know what u think! enjoy, angels 💌

The first time Theodore Nott asks you out, you spill a pot of ink directly into his lap.

It’s not like you meant to do it. But when there’s a Transfiguration worksheet to be getting on with, the Slytherin boy seated next to you by Professor McGonagall asking you out would surely take anyone by surprise.

The second you twist in your seat to look at him in shock, your arm slides the pot right off the desk and directly onto his grey trousers, instantly staining them with the black liquid before you have a chance to speak.

Your hands fly to your mouth to stifle your gasp and you look up at him, anticipating an angry glare in return. Instead, he looks mildly surprised at the ever-growing stain on his crotch, but mostly… amused?

“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed, darling,” he says, raising an eyebrow and suppressing a smile.

You begin stuttering out an apology and scrambling for your wand to wave away the stain before you can do something stupid like attempting to rub it off with your sleeve. Your cheeks instantly heat up at the humiliating image now plaguing your mind and you barely contain a sigh of relief when you realise the lesson has finished.

It’s a miracle your shoes haven’t left scuff marks on the ground in a cartoonish trail with the speed at which you leave the classroom. Godric knows why Theo Nott of all people wants to ask you out, but since it can’t possibly be for any good reason, you’d rather not think about it too much. This, however, isn’t helped by Hermione pestering you about why you look so flustered for the entire walk to the Charms classroom.

Twenty minutes later, her attention is finally diverted. On the other hand, it’s because she’s berating you for accidentally burning the end of her left eyebrow off with a charm gone wrong.

The second time Theo asks you out, there are thankfully no ink pots around.

“Hey,” he whispers from behind you, making you jump within an inch of your life despite his low volume. You swivel in your chair to glare at him, incredulous. Seeing that he’s startled you, Theo grins. “Sorry. What are you doing?”

“Baking a cake,” you deadpan, once your heart has started beating at a normal pace again. Holding up your Potions book, you feel the annoyance start to seep in when Theo continues looking at you, undeterred. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Apparently unfazed by your sarcasm, he drags out the chair next to you and spins it around to sit on it backwards. Settling his arms on top of the backrest, Theo rests his chin on them to look at you. “You never did answer my question.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, eyes scanning the page in front of you but taking in nothing. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to study-”

“Are you going to make me ask you again?” he sighs. You panic a little at his bluntness and continue pretending to read, not knowing what else to do. Theo takes your silence as encouragement and shuffles his chair closer to your own. “Go out with me.”

The arrogance practically drips off his voice, and the pit of anxiety in your stomach immediately turns into irritation instead. “No,” you grit out, slamming your potions book shut to scowl at him. “And I don’t hear you asking anything.”

“Okay,” Theo says slowly, nodding as though he understands. It’s clear that he doesn’t though, because the next words out of his mouth have you stunned. “Please, oh please, will you do me the absolute greatest honour of going out with me?”

”Merlin,” you exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. Dropping your hands into your lap, you see no solution other than gathering your things to return to the common room. “You’re having me on…”

“I can assure you, I’m not,” Theo says quickly, stopping you from leaving by gently grabbing your elbow. You stop in your movements to catch him looking more unsure than you’ve ever seen, and you’ve never been more perplexed. “I’m completely serious right now. Go out with me?”

“Wh- I don’t even-” you sigh, cutting your senseless muttering off to cross your arms over your textbook. “Whatever happened to a simple ‘no’ sufficing, darling? Aren’t there a million other girls for you to go and pester? Godric knows you’ve got an entourage following you half the- What are you looking at?”

Amazingly, Theo’s expression has lost all trace of vulnerability and now displays a slightly faraway look, his signature lazy grin in full effect. “Sorry, I didn’t hear a word after you called me ‘darling’.”

Resisting the urge to hit him over the head with your textbook, you take a deep breath and grasp the potential weapon tighter in your hands before speaking. “As hard as it is for me to believe that girls actually fall for this rubbish, your history with them shows that they do. Don’t think for a second, I’m going to let you use me like they do.”

Theo considers your words for a few seconds, mulling them over as carefully as though he’s trying to solve a brain teaser. Eventually, he seems to come to a satisfying conclusion, because he tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers and tilts his head. “So you need me to prove I’m serious about this… and then you’ll say yes?”

“Oh, for the love of-” Huffing, you turn on your heal without saying another word and storm out of the library. Theo doesn’t follow you, allowing you to clear your head and think about the incredibly odd interaction.

You’re climbing through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room when you realise you never actually refuted Theo and his theory to make you go out with him. Whether or not it was on purpose, you can’t quite decide.

Over the next few weeks, you start wishing you had stopped Theo before he could start trying to prove himself to you.

You can’t go a single day without the question of going out with him popping up. Much to your bewilderment, it isn’t always him asking. Sometimes it’s his friends, sometimes it’s students at the Gryffindor table who are sick of the multiple owls every morning flocking to your table with a note in their beaks. Sometimes it’s even your friends.

“I mean, really,” Hermione says at breakfast, huffy as always when reprimanding someone. “It’d be benefiting everyone if you just went out with him. Why don’t you, anyway?”

“He’s a Slytherin,” Ron butts in, talking to Hermione as though he’s explaining something to a child. He takes a gigantic bite of his toast before speaking, his next words coming out muffled. “Surely that’s reason enough.”

“No, that isn’t reason enough,” Hermione says sternly, furrowing her brows. “A good reason would have been all the girls he’s always with. Of course, that’s flown out the window recently. He’s also never given them as much attention now that I think about it.”

“He’s definitely not the worst of the group either,” Harry adds, leaning in as nosily as Ron. “Not like we’re talking about Malfoy…”

“Don’t you two have Quidditch tactics to be discussing?” you snap, exhausted by the subject already. The two boys hold up their hands in surrender, before shuffling down the bench. Whether that’s to be closer to the Quidditch team, or to get away from you before you start throwing hexes - you aren’t certain.

The fact you’re awake early in the morning on a Saturday isn’t helping your sour mood, and the Quidditch match being between Gryffindor and Slytherin only adds to this.

“We’d better go and get a good seat at the front, so we aren’t on our tiptoes for the whole game like last time,” Hermione says, already sliding off the bench. You give your cup of coffee one last longing look before you allow yourself to be dragged away.

You haven’t even made it onto the Quidditch pitch before you’re already wishing for that cup of coffee to give you strength, because you find none other than Theo standing outside the Great Hall in his green and silver Quidditch robes.

As soon as he spots you, Theo plasters on that charming smile of his and opens his mouth, no doubt to ask you if you could talk privately.

Hermione interjects before he gets the chance. “Don’t bother, I’m leaving.” She simply sighs when you look at her, betrayed. “He’d have convinced you anyway! I’ll save you a seat.”

You watch her leave, helplessly before turning to Theo and crossing your arms. “Yes?”

“I have a proposition for you,” he says simply, getting to the point. The proposition has, without a doubt, got something to do with you and him and a trip to Hogsmeade, but you gesture for him to continue nonetheless. You can’t deny it’s been entertaining watching Theo come up with new ways to ask you out these past few weeks. “I’ll throw the match and let your lot win if you go out with me.”

This startles a laugh out of you, something between a chortle and a gasp. “Oh, you cheeky bastard,” you exclaim, but you can’t help grinning. That was quite possibly the last thing you expected him to say. “First of all, I think my lot is perfectly capable of winning on their own. And secondly… as funny as it would be, I’d rather not have your death and Malfoy’s subsequent imprisonment in Azkaban be on my conscience.”

You only realise just how wide your smile is when it starts to fade under Theo’s unwavering gaze. His lips twitch up into a smile and you immediately frown as an automatic response. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re bantering with me,” Theo says, grinning as though he’s extremely pleased with himself. You realise with a jolt, that yes you were bantering. “One step closer to agreeing to go out with me.”

“That’s not happening,” you protest, but it sounds fairly weak, even to you. “Like I keep telling you, I’m not going to be one of those girls.”

Theo shrugs. “And I think you already know you’re not one of those girls. It’s fine, I can wait.”

The relaxed manner in which he says this has you flabbergasted to say the least. Truthfully, you aren’t completely sure why you haven’t just agreed at this point. No one in the whole school is used to witnessing such extravagant displays from Theodore Nott, so you’ve accepted the fact you’re an outlier in this particular subject area. You’re starting to think Hermione’s right, and it’s pure stubbornness that’s keeping you going.

“You’ll be waiting a long time then,” you say, giving Theo a bland smile.

“Nah,” is all he says, the smile still gracing his unperturbed face. “Keep an eye out for me in the Quidditch stands.”

Theo winks at you before walking away in the direction of the pitch and you linger in the castle for a good few minutes before snapping out of it and walking in the same direction.

You find Hermione quickly at the front of the Gryffindor stand and you’re about to ask how long until the game starts when Lee Jordan’s voice begins to boom from the commentator stand.

“Strong start for Gryffindor with Katie Bell taking the Quaffle and- nope, Vaisey’s taken it and passed it onto Urquhart, his fellow Chaser and the new Slytherin captain.” You’re thankful for Lee’s commentary as it’s easy to follow and you probably wouldn’t have a clue if it weren’t for him. Surprisingly, he keeps it professional enough for a while. “Ginny Weasley tries to take the Quaffle after a near hit there to Urquhart, thanks to new Gryffindor Beater Jimmy Peakes and that very solid Bludger over there. Unfortunately, he missed-”

“JORDAN.”

“Sorry, Professor McGonagall, I meant fortunately. Slytherin Chaser Mattheo Riddle now has the Quaffle and seems to be aiming to score and- oops! He’s missed, thanks to Gryffindor Keeper Ron Weasley. Good on you, Weasley,” Lee says, unable to be impartial as shown by McGonagall’s glare. “As for the Slytherin Keeper, Nott seems to be distracted by something in the Gryffindor stands. Or should I say someone.”

Laughter echoes in every stand, much to your utter humiliation and some people even start whooping and cheering in your direction. Theo’s antics are common knowledge at this point, but it doesn’t make the laughter any less embarrassing. You try and maintain a shred of dignity by standing still and glaring as hard as you can at Theo. Horrifyingly, he starts to fly in your direction.

Lee looks at McGonagall before speaking, but she merely shrugs helplessly, looking flustered herself. “Er, well it seems Slytherin are open for Gryffindor to score. No one seems to be taking advantage, however, as I think I can speak for everyone when I say we want to know what’s going on with Nott and Y/N.”

Glancing at the others, you realise Lee is right and all the players are hovering in place, making no move to continue the game. They look partly confused, but mostly nosy.

Theo stops just outside the Gryffindor stand, his attention focused wholly on you. You raise both eyebrows in question, waiting for him to speak. “Go out with me.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t quite hear what Nott is saying, but I think we can all guess he’s asking her out again,” Lee says, causing a few more cheers and even a couple groans. “Take the hint, mate.”

“Theo, get back to the game!” you hiss, wrapping your arms around you as if it’ll shield you from everyone’s eyes. “You’re embarrassing m- What the fuck are you doing!”

Theo swings a leg over the side of his broomstick so that he’s sitting completely facing you, legs dangling dangerously off one side. Lee sits up a little in his booth and McGonagall looks positively horrified. “For unknown reasons, Nott is balancing precariously in a position no Quidditch player wants to- Merlin, he’s hanging off his broomstick!”

Everyone in the crowd screams and shouts when Theo slips off his broomstick, but they quieten down and watch with fright when they see he’s still holding on with both hands. You think you’re going to faint.

“Theo,” you plead, with the same voice you’d use to coax a bloody kitten out of a tree. “Get back on your broomstick. Please.”

“Only if you go out with me,” Theo says, eyes determined despite breathing a little heavier. The broomstick is thin and despite his strength, it’d be hard for anyone to maintain a grip for long. “Say you’ll go out with me and I’ll get back on.”

“Just say it!” Hermione grabs you by the shoulder to shake you.

Professor McGonagall seems to have shaken out of her previous daze and begins scrambling around for her wand while Lee narrows his eyes to better assess the situation. “Godric, Y/N. Just say ‘yes’ and end everyone’s misery already.”

“But…” you trail off, hands shaking as you keep your eyes on Theo’s white knuckles still gripping the broom. “I don’t want to encourage this stupid behaviour.”

Theo rolls his eyes as though he can’t believe you’re still objecting. He shakes his head at you, though his chest is shaking with laughter. “Go out with me, and I swear I’ll never do anything stupid again. Fucking hell, I’ll quit Quidditch altogether if you want.”

You open your mouth to say something, you’re not sure what, but before you can get a word out, Seamus Finnigan pipes up from beside you. “Personally, I say let him fall off the bloody thing.”

Tutting, you turn to Theo just to find the idiot raising an eyebrow challengingly. His left hand begins to loosen on the broomstick, deliberately.

“Theo, don’t you dare.”

He drops his left hand completely and you scream, the noise drowned out by everyone else’s yells.

“OKAY!” you yelp, heart in throat as you watch Theo dangling from his broomstick with one hand, clearly struggling. “Okay, I’ll go out with you, you stubborn idiot!”

The Gryffindors that hear you, begin to cheer, setting off the other houses and once McGonagall sees Theo begin to pull himself up on his broomstick, she visibly relaxes, slumping in her seat as she clutches her chest. Lee soon gets the message. “Finally, after a good month of watching Nott pine pathetically, Y/N has agreed to go out with the poor bast- Er, beggar. Sorry, Professor. By the way Nott, you’ve got detention for a week.”

Now sitting normally on his broomstick, Theo grins at you like the cheeky bastard that he is, with elation clear as day on his face. You struggle to fight off your own grin and you can tell by his expression you’re not doing a very good job at it. “Pull something like that again and I’ll push you off your broomstick myself,” you warn him, though it lacks any real threat. You were more worried than angry, and it definitely shows. “Okay?”

“No more stupid behaviour,” Theo promises, sounding sincere as he nods, messy hair falling into his eyes. The wind blows it out of the way almost immediately and you find yourself wanting to do it with your fingers. “After this, though.”

You furrow your brows as Theo flies close enough to the Gryffindor stand to get off his broomstick and hop right into the crowd, landing next to you. Broomstick in hand, Theo doesn’t take his eyes off you when he holds it out to Hermione. “If you don’t mind, Granger.”

Clearly baffled, Hermione gingerly takes the broomstick from him and watches the two of you, as enraptured as the rest of the school.

You face Theo properly, looking up at his eyes to see them glittering with pride and achievement. You tilt your head in question, wondering why he hasn’t yet returned to the game.

Theo answers you by gripping your waist to pull you into a stupidly dramatic, dizzying, wonderful kiss. His lips are soft against your own and cold from the wind, but the shiver that runs down your spine has nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the way Theo is pressed against you.

You could go on forever, but the cheers and claps and hollering around you remind you that you’re surrounded by all your peers and, Godric, your teachers.

Pulling away, you clear your throat and attempt to gain back some of your dignity by keeping a serious face. Theo attempts nothing of the sort as he’s still wearing a silly grin. You try and avoid his eyes for the sake of your nerves and you mutter the first thing that comes to mind. “Erm, good luck then. I hope you win.”

This is the wrong thing to say surrounded by your fellow Gryffindors as a few of them boo at you.

Theo rolls his eyes at the dramatics, while you simply scowl, pointedly at Seamus who seems to have boo’ed the loudest. Hermione is beaming at you when she hands Theo back his broomstick, though she also gives a little frown directed at Seamus.

Getting back on his broomstick, Theo hovers near you outside the stand. You lower your voice to a whisper that only he can hear. “I still hope you win.”

Theo shrugs, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him during a Quidditch game. “I’ve already won, darling.”

© angelfic 2023.

[rafesslxt]

Showerhead | mattheo riddle

summary: you thought you were alone in the bathroom when your wild thoughts took over you but you suddenly hear a second voice.. and its not inside your head.

warnings: masturbating for a sec, cursing, filthy DIRTY TALK, fingering, mattheo eating out reader, unprotected p in v, enemyxlover vibe, gryffindor!reader

notes: DAMN I'M BACK! I'm sorry but I had a HUGE writing block. Also: english is not my first language so pls let me know If there'S something I can correct :)

My day was unbelievable fucked. I woke up too late, got detention because i talked to my friends while Snape was teaching us something, i spilled my food over my clothes.. twice.. after that I fell from my broomstick at the quidditch training and now i sat with Hermione, Ron and Harry in the Great Hall eating.

„Yo y/n can I copy your homework later? I got -" Ron startet but i interrupted him "Yeah yeah whatever.. guys I‘m gonna go to bed okay? See you after this." Hermione and me shared a room so I would see her later.

I rushed to our dorm, getting rid of my dirty clothes. God I needed a shower, now. I took my clothes, shower stuff and towels and started to walk towards one of the big bathrooms.

Because I wanted more privacy, I did go to one that not many students know about. Hermione once told me about it as she talked about Hogwarts in first grade.

As I walked inside, I checked If someone‘s here but I was alone. I took off my clothes and stood under one of the showers more in the corner and let the water run down my body. I sighed as I felt it on my skin, finally feeling more relaxed.

My thoughts started drifting after a while as my hands glided over my body. Damn my muscles are really sore. When was even the last time I had sex? I think it was like 3 months ago with a guy from Ravenclaw. He looked promising but merlin was I feeling disappointed after.

I couldn‘t even touch myself cause I was always around people, sharing rooms together and shit.

I bit my lip as I looked at that shower head above me. Nah I couldn‘t.. could I? Did I even have time? I mean I was in here already for like 20 minutes so I had to be in my room before curfew but god damn I was so desperate.

Oh fuck it – what is one more detention, right? I took the shower head, letting my other hand slowling wandering over my nipples. I whimpered slightly at the feeling, realising now how desperate I really was.

I took the shower head and put it where I needed it the most. My thoughts drifted again and I tried to think about someone but no face appeared until - fuck no, I can‘t think about him.. but before I could debate more with myself, his name left my lips.

"Fuck Mattheo.." my lips parted and my breathing got heavier. Merlin was I already about to cum? How pathetic, I didn‘t even touch myself properly but that kind of didn‘t matter as the next words left my mouth. "Shit.. please" i begged into the foggy air around me.

"Damn Princess.." My blood got cold and my body tensed to a point where I couldn‘t move. I swallowed as I opened my eyes and saw Mattheo Riddle standing right in front of me. The one who‘s name I just moaned.

I tried to hide my body behind my hands, a little too late. "Fuck Riddle what the hell are you doing here?!" I asked him angry. Once because I stood there completley naked and he didn‘t even tried not to look and second for my again – non existing orgasm.

He looked shamelessly over my body, scanning every inch of my skin. He had a towel hanging low on his hips, which didnt really helped the state i was in right now.

" I could ask you the same but I think I just heard what you did.." he smirked arrogant and looked at my face. "You know you could have just asked If you wanted my help."

I rolled my eyes at him as I took one of my towels from the side to hide my body but as I did I had to let go which leaded him to look at my breasts. I saw him licking his lips, looking up at my face again as I wrapped the towel around myself.

"Just because your name is Mattheo, doesn‘t mean I was thinking about you."

He grinned again, coming closer to me slowly. "Oh yeah? Then who did you mean?" I tried to think about an different Mattheo but there was no one in this school I knew with that name – besides him.

He just stood one inch away from me now, backing me into the shower again until my back hit the wall.

"Princess.. i know you did think about me, there‘s no shame in telling." I started nibbling on my bottom lip as a signal to being nervous. God he smelled so good and his face looked even more handsome now that the single drops of water fell onto his face from his still wet hair.

"And what If I was? Are you going to tell all your stupid little friends?" He chuckled "No.." his face came even closer now "just let me help you out with that." I swallowed down a clump in my troath as he said that. My pride was way too big for him to just come here and fuck me like that..right?

"Hell no I -" "Why not huh? I saw how desperate your little body looked as you just begged for more.. let me help you with that, I‘m gonna make you cum within the first minutes." Now his arrogant smile was back, his breath hitting my lips now.

"Yeah all of you boys say that, leaving me unsatisfied after." I huffed, looking away from his piercing eyes.

"Let‘s make a deal little one.. I‘m gonna eat you out and If I don‘t make you cum within the, lets say: five minutes? I‘ll leave and never bother you again.."

I looked at his lips while he was talking. They looked so soft and kissable – fuck was I really considering what he said? I mean he‘s a Riddle and a stupid little fucker but maybe that‘s just what I needed right now. Stupid little Fucker named Mattheo Riddle.

"And what If you make me cum?" i looked up at his eyes again. He towered his head over mine grinning, coming down to my ear and whispered "..then you‘re mine for the night." He smiled almost devilish and I know I should‘ve said no but damn 3 months were starting to get the best of me.

"Deal." It felt like as If I just signed up for the devil. His smile grew at my words and he pushed me against the wall this time, unwrapping the towel i just put on.

"Damn your body looks so good, just perfect for me to eat." Shivers went down my spine at his words right towards my - " I hope you know what you just got yourself into." Suddenly he took me by my hips, lifting me up against the wall again as I wrapped my legs around his hips.

"It‘s kind of unfair that you still have your towel on, don‘t you think?“ "Oh don‘t worry princess, it‘s coming off very soon."

He took one hand away from supporting my ass, to my cheek. He looked deep into my eyes, almost staring into my soul. He closed the gap between us, kissing me like no boy ever did before in my whole life. The kiss was passionate, heated and longing. Almost as If we would seperate, we couldn‘t breathe.

I felt the tip of his tounge slide over my bottom lip which made me moan slightly. He smiled against my lips and pressed himself harder against me.

I opened my mouth slowly, which he took as a opportunity to explore my mouth with his tounge fighting over control with mine.

He let go of my lips what almost costed me a whimper but I pressed my lips together. He took me by my hips again, lifting me higher until I sat on his shoulders, my eyes going wide. Damn I don‘t think I need 5 minutes.

"You ready?" he mumbled against my inner tight he started kissing softly with his wet lips. I just let out a deep breathe and nodded, putting my hands on his hair.

He started kissing higher up until his mouth was just an inch away from my pussy. "5 Minutes are alredy starting" I chocked out, but in reality I just wanted him so start.

I could feel him grinning like an little ass but these thoughts were thrown out of the window as his tounge touched my clit.

I held in my breathe for a second as he started to kitten lick my clit and massaging my tights with his hands. I buckled against his face but he was faster and backed away. I let out a desperate whine at the loss of contact.

"Beg me.." he told me looking up at me with his chocolate brown eyes. Shit who was I even to deny that? Now wasn‘t really the moment for too much pride. "Please.." He raised his eyebrows " Please what?" "Please eat me out Mattheo, I need it - please.."

Satisfied with my answer he licked flat over my pussy, focusing on my clit again as he started to suck it. "Oh my-" my lips parted and my hands flew into his hair again, pressing his face deeper between my legs.

"Fuck that feels good" i moaned and arched my back off the wall as I felt something deep down in my stomach. Shit he didn‘t even do much but give my clit some attention - really good attention - and I was already close again.

I felt his hand going under my tight and his thumb being places on my clit. He moved his finger in circular motions, sliding his tounge to by entrance, fucking me with it.

"M-mattheo please!“ shamelessly i bucked my hips and cried out his name.

"You close baby?" he asked, mumbling against my wet skin. I just nodded breathless until I felt a sharp and powerful feeling in my abdomen.

It completely crushed me. Everything around me went black for a few seconds and I couldnt hear anything. I just came so hard on Mattheo‘s tounge that I didn‘t even realise where I was for a short moment.

I looked down on me, looking in Mattheo‘s eyes, already looking at me. "You taste so good baby."

He slowly lets me down again but holds me as we both notice how weak my knees are. "Damn I didnt expect that.." i breathe out and look at his lips, still glistening from my juices.

"I think you lost our deal.." he grinned and startet slowly kissing my neck. I chuckle, nodding just slowly, thinking about how much I actually want him and not caring about the fact that I lost.

"..but you don‘t really seem to care huh." he grins and slowly rubs my back before turning me around so I faced the wall. "Hands on the wall baby." No matter what he said, I always heard him smiling. Smug little ass. "Spread your legs princess, that's it.. wider." My stomach twisted at his vulgar words, never ever did a boy talk to me like that.

I did as he said, spread my legs even wider while my hands touched the cold wall. "Hmm now arch your back for me."

I felt his hands slither around my waist down to my lover stomach. Every touch of his send shivers down my spine. Suddenly, I felt his breath against my ear, his lips kissing the shell of it as he murmurs with a deep voice. "I'm going to fuck every last thought out of this pretty little head." "Stop teasing me and do it!"

He chuckles darkly and I feel the tips of his fingers wandering slowly over my pussy. "Do you really think you're in a position to give orders?" Goosebumps.

As I didn't answer him he lightly brushed his finger over my clit, making me shiver again, while brushing soft kisses across my back.

"Please." I let out a whimper, arching my back just a little more and pushing my hips into his body. Then, I felt him at my entrance, pressing the tip of his cock against my clit, just where his fingers had been a second ago.

"Beg. Fucking let me hear how much you want this cock." he whispers into my ear, his hot breath hitting my ear. My whole body shudders and I can't help it but do as he tells me to.

"Mattheo please I need you. I need to feel you, I'll do anything." I feel myself almost crying from the frustration and arousal. "Good Girl." he groans before he slowly enters me. Fuck.

"Oh Shit baby, you feel so tight." Mattheo grunted shamelessly as my walls clenched around him. My breathing got heavy and I bite my bottom lip to hide my moans.

"Don't hold back." he commands and just so, I let my lip go and whimper out his name.

"Hmm just like that princess." He pushes further inside of me, groaning at the feeling. I feel so full of him, I can't think straight besides of him and how good he feels.

Abruptly he started moving his hips fast an hard against my ass, leaving my mouth hanging wide open. " Oh fuck, Mattheo!" I cried out at the sensation. His hand started to wander up and down my body, over my back, my stomach, my tits - playing with my nipples.

"What, you want gentle? Wrong fucking address." God where has he been all these months? It feels like he just fills that hole inside of me - literally.

I hear him panting behind me, not slowing down with the movement of his hips. "Shit I would've fucked you way sooner If knew you had such a tight little pussy, just waiting for me to come and fuck it sore."

I hiss as he takes my hair into his fist and yanks my head backwards so It would lay against his shoulder while my back is still arched and he presses me against him. My hands roam over his arm that holds me in the middle of my body and I close my eyes. I'm definitely gonna be sore tomorrow.

I felt him changing the angle of his hips a little and my eyes almost bulged out of my head. "Oh my god!" I almost scream, forgetting that someone could hear us, even tho not many know about this bathroom. "Fuck yes, I feel you clenching around me princess. Does that feel good hm?" he teases and bites my neck gently.

Words coiled inside my throat, coming out as broken sobs, telling him I'm wanting more. "You're still holding back, just let go."

So I screamed his name again, over and over again, until I felt a sharp pang in my stomach. His hand let go of my body, his second hand still in my hair. He grabbed the shower head and turned the pressure higher before he holded it right against my clit.

I was a whimpering and sobbing mess at this point, begging him to let me come. "Look at me. I wanna see you coming around my cock." He tugs at my hair and my eyes roll back to look into his, which gave me the rest I just needed to come.

Looking into his eyes made my walls clench around him again, leaving his mouth hanging wide open. "Shit.." he grunted and closed his eyes as his rhythm became more erratic. Just as I slowly came down from my high, I felt him pulling out of me and coming all over my back, spreading his hot cum.

"Fucking hell.." he breathed out and slowly let go of my hair and hanging the shower head back onto the wall after washing his cum off of my back. I turned around and looked up at him, smiling slightly.

"What? Did I fuck out all your negative energy?" he chuckled, pressing me against him again with one of his arms. I roll my eyes at his comment but still I couldn't hide my smile. "I have something for you.." he said, now he's smiling like a little devil.

I look at him confused which he answers me with his fingers in front of my mouth. I look down at them and gasp as I see his cum on them. "Come on, open up baby.." I didn't knew why but again I did as he said and parted my lips. He pushed his fingers inside my mouth and grins. "Suck them."

I started sucking on his fingers and swirling my tongue around them, tasting his salty cum. His eyes rolled back a little and I saw him shuddering for a moment. "Damn, you wanna suck my cock maybe?"

I did let go of them and chuckled as I pressed myself pass his body to wrap my towel around my wet body. " Maybe next time.."

"Oh so you wanna do this more often, huh?"

Oh and how we both didn't knew at that moment how often actually.

_______

Who wants a part 2? It's here!

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xoxo Sarah <3

[screampied]

can you do soft sukuna after an argument vegas for fluff pretty please i think we deserve it after all you've done to us

໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ MAYBE I’M THE PROBLEM﹒⺡ SUKUNA RYŌMEN. ’

sum. gn! reader, angst with c-comfort, he’s a softie at heart, fluff, petnames, ty lucy for beta'ing <3

“what’s with you today?” sukuna furrows his eyebrows, and he lightly grabs your wrist. you face him only to briefly look away with a stubborn scowl. “you didn’t have to do that. i can take care of myself.”

he was referring to earlier…how careless you were, at least from his perspective. throwing yourself in danger just for sukuna. perhaps it was stupid, but at that particular moment—you didn’t have a thought that crossed your mind.

“well, i did,” you mumble, and sukuna bites his tongue from the inside of his cheek. his nostrils flare before he grabs your shoulders.

“what are you not getting? and if you died trying to protect me, then what?” and for a brief moment, it was dead silence. you stared at sukuna, and you can’t remember a time he looked like this. sukuna was … scared. the more you looked into his dark eyes, once full of arrogance and wit — instead, his pupils dilated and widened. his thumbs gently pressed into your skin, and then he continues to speak. “how can you even be calm about something like that?”

“i wouldn’t have to do things like that if you’d just be more careful,” you chastise, a sudden wave of gloom spraying over you. sukuna kept pausing every few seconds, as if he was carefully thinking of what to reply with.

sukuna’s almost got a glare before he sighs. “i told you. i can take care of myse—”

“no, you can’t sukuna. you know how many times you’ve almost died? the countless days where i’d be worried sick about you. if anyone’s reckless, it’s you. and you wonder why i act like this, it’s because i’m in love with you, you idiot.”

you don’t even register your words, it’s as if you’ve been yearning to get that out for ages.

sukuna grows mute, trying to figure if he actually heard what he’d just heard. you…you were in love with someone like him?

the awkward silence was deafening, a single tear strolls down your cheek before sukuna’s face suddenly softens.

he brings a thumb up to your cheek, swiping the tear aside before muttering in a raspy, “you love me?”

“i thought it was pretty obvious,” you grumble, avoiding his eye contact. your heart ached, never in your life have you felt this vulnerable. saying it out loud only made you flustered immensely quick. a soft smile goes against his lips — you didn’t answer his question, but he knew the answer. you loved sukuna. “but whatever.”

“oi. don’t ‘whatever’ me,” sukuna mutters, cupping both sides of your face. he has you stare right into his eyes, the eyes where most see a cruel villainous person, you see the softest eyes imaginable. reserved only for you. “look at me,” and you finally meet his gaze, a smug grin slowly tugs against the corners of his mouth. “you’re in love with me.”

a weird tingly feeling crept up inside your stomach, and you give sukuna a glare. “you know,” he keeps speaking, a soft finger stroking your cheek. “instead of almost dying for me, you could have been normal and just said, ‘i love you’.”

“…shut up,” you grouse, entirely abashed. he found it cute seeing you like this. in the midst of your mini tantrum - sukuna hums to himself, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“hmpf. well, i suppose i love you too, brat,” he utters, watching your face briefly light up at his words. sukuna saying it back couldn’t have made your heart swoon even more, but it did. “and i’m sorry for being so careless.”

you felt butterflies collide inside your tummy before you blink, ears perking at his first initial words and you pout. “you suppose?”

sukuna looks down at you before he awkwardly pats your head. “i … love you,” his voice was a mere soft rasp. studying his stare, sukuna started to grow a tad bit embarrassed. even more than you. as his fingers softly roam through your hair, he leans up close to your face and scoffs. “happy now?”

“i love you more,” you smile, feeling more relieved. he’s taken aback once you hug him. sukuna’s always been so stiff at something as simple as a hug. your frame held his waist tightly, and he’d never admit it but it was adorable.

sukuna scowls. “…. you’re squishing me.”

“shut up and hug me back.” you sigh, only taking this as an opportunity to squeeze him tighter. he was so warm.

usually…sukuna wouldn’t let anyone get this close, yet alone do this. a simple affectionate hug.

he groans, slowly wrapping his arms around you. “you’re so annoying,” and as your head rests against his chest — you look up at him, a soft smile goes against your lips. “pain in my damn ass.”

“talking about your ass isn’t romantic, ‘kuna.” you raise your brows . . . obviously kidding, but he groans.

with an eye roll, sukuna does the unexpected and pulls you up close towards his face. with a perplexed grin, you watch as he grabs you into a chaste kiss. it takes you by surprise, your hands remain flat and still before you wrap your arms around him. sukuna’s soft with you, you made him soft—and he hated it, but a tiny part of him secretly loved it too.

abruptly, he pulls the kiss away before glaring at you. “i love you.”

“i love you too, kuku.”

“…..call me that again and see what happens.”

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ mad with need ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ you want him so bad that you feel like you’re going crazy so he indulges you┊3.0k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: smut!! dom logan & sub reader┊x wade wilson too, age gap, dirty fantasies from a horny reader (who is actually insecure about herself), size difference, no prep we’re dying like nicepool, riding & unprotected piv, breeding/creampie, a bit rushed i need this out my wips

➤ author's note: okay so this is actually the very first logan fic i started, but i have no idea why it took me so long to finish it? it’s a bit all over the place, but i hope some people enjoy anyway!

has he realized you were there and simply testing your self-control, or is he just being so effortlessly sexy again that you aren’t sure if you’re in love or jealous? was there any other reason for him to be laid out on the beat-up couch like something to feast on when he was simply holding a bottle of liquor in one hand to sip on and flipping through the channels of a barely-working box television with a remote in the other? why else would he be so delectable around a known pervert(s, wade is just as bad as you are, just more focused on the possible destruction of his home rather than the pansexual panic between you and logan plaguing him) if not to tempt you?

you’re constantly fawning over the sight of him and letting out dreamy sighs which have become more common lately than you would like to admit, swearing that you could gaze upon him for every second of the day and not tire of it. they say “god gives his most difficult battles to his strongest soldiers”, yet the battle assigned to you is restraining yourself from pouncing on him at the very moment and begging to suck his cock. you know that you’re horny most hours of the day and also kinda a brazen whore, but the way he makes you wet in record time should be worthy of a gold olympic medal.

every time his lips wrap around the rim of the glass bottle, you can’t help but imagine them somewhere else. the image of his handsome face between your legs and scruffy facial hair coated in your slick while he ravishes you haunts your mind whenever you try to sleep, yet the phantom sensation of his tongue on you while his nose stimulates your clit helps you rest in the end. you bet that he would be great at eating pussy too, with his sharp tongue and arrogant attitude— god. 

he’s also so jacked that even when he’s resting, his muscles still seem to bulge with prominent veins like a nurse’s wet dream and it has you downright drooling. now that the sleeves of his suit were gone, you could see how beefy his arms were, and seeing any inch of his skin had you acting up like a victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time. he could probably crush your skull like an egg if you ever found yourself head-locked in them (you’ve seen him do it to wade out of irritation, and you’ve never been so jealous).

and not to mention how peggable his shapely ass is, there’s really no limit to all the things you want to try with him if you were given the chance—

“are you finished staring?” his gruff voice brought you back to reality, refocusing your vision as he made a slight gesture to his body with one of his rare smirks, “like what you see?” it’s a rhetorical question, he knows how good he looks despite his age and you have already made your attraction towards him well-established. 

you don’t need to say anything, he can tell what you’re thinking as clearly as day, so you don’t bother making any dirty remarks like usual and just walk out the room. you paced around the house for a minute or two to calm yourself down until you eventually ran into wade. “oh my god,” you cupped your face with your hands, eyes becoming big and round as if you were going to cry, “i want him so bad, i feel like i’m gonna lose my mind if i don’t fuck him!”

“well, why haven’t you? i know for a fact that my presence isn’t enough to stop you from climbing him like a tree, so spill it!”

“uhhhh,” you pointed your fingers together to exaggerate self-consciousness, “what if… what if he doesn’t like me and just sees me as some annoying, excessively horny kid?”

“can you believe this bitch?” he scoffed, looking at the invisible audience that was always watching before grabbing your shoulders and violently shaking you, “listen here missy, he definitely likes you— i have yet to see that man smile at anything else that isn’t your face and comments that rival jjk twitter fans in vulgarity! why are you suddenly getting cold feet now when you’re such a player? you’re suddenly screaming, crying, and throwing up over peanut whom you’ve been hitting on non-stop since we found him?!”

“i don’t know! it’s different, he’s my hero, and— i know it’s hard for you to believe, but he’s not even half the asshole my previous flings were. besides, he so fucking hot—”

“yeah, but he’s also so fucking old— his dick is probably all shriveled up—” the sound of the said man clearing his throat made him jump out of his skin, slowly turning his head to look at the older man before giggling nervously and waving his hands around in some form of awkward greeting. even if he can regenerate and wounds are more like papercuts, the last thing he wanted was to get stabbed in the balls by his adamantium claws again for making such a comment. “ahaha, how much did you hear…?”

“enough,” he grunted, turning his attention to you, “and you’re coming with me.”

“huh—?” there was hardly a moment for you to properly react before he suddenly bent down to grab you by the waist and toss you over his shoulder, “you’re not even gonna ask me to dinner first?!” you must have looked like a fish out of the water with how your mouth was agape with surprise, and you heard him genuinely chuckle in amusement. both from the fact that you didn’t see this coming after all you’ve been saying to him as well as the fact that he could pick you up and throw you around like you weighed nothing.

“well, you didn’t exactly greet me with a ‘hello’ before shamelessly undressing me with your eyes when we first met, now did you?” you couldn’t see if he was smiling or not considering that you were upside-down. the current angle only gave you a close-up view of his perfect ass (not that you were complaining, you need to know his squat routine), unsure if the heat on your face was from the embarrassment of him calling you out or simply from the blood rushing to your head.

“what about me? are you lovebirds really going to leave me all by myself, lonely and yearning for the companionship of another while you two fuck like rabbits?”

“ahh, go fuck yourself.” the grin on his face dissipated the moment he opened his mouth, but it wasn’t enough to ruin his mood as he carried you away to the closest bedroom available, quickly flinging you on the bed without a bother to be careful when handling you since he knew that you could and have taken worse as deadpool’s sidekick. “why are you so nervous? think i don’t want you as much as you want me?”

“wait, actually?” your usually confident facade of the overly forward flirt was faltering more and more by the second.

“you’re so busy ogling my body that you haven’t even noticed the way i look at you, huh?” it’s obvious logan was an absolute beast of a man, but when he cages you with his arms between his bulky frame and the mattress, you feel like a little field mouse against a lion. the way your pupils dilate as you look up at him with adorned excitement has him so fucking feral, heat stirring in his stomach and blood rushing to his cock. he traced over your outfit, admiring how the skin-tight leather hugged your curved. “wearing such a slutty little things that leaves nothing to the imagination, and you expected me not to think about pinning you down and fucking you until you pass out?”

you shivered at his words, arousal pooling in your underwear and warmth spreading throughout your body under your skin. this cheeky son of a bitch can smell it too, the sweet smell of desire, sensing how needy you are for his touch and how your pussy is just begging for his attention. 

as much as he wanted to rip your clothing off and pound into you like there was no tomorrow, he wanted to take his time to properly treasure the cute sidekick who has been reminding him how it feels to be a man again, young and unafraid to pursue the woman of his dreams and treat her right the way that countless of others failed to do. (you’re going to laugh hysterically at him later on down the line when you hear him say that, never thinking you could be the object of anyone’s affection past a one-night stand, but the look in his eyes makes you realize he’s telling the truth and you’ll get all flustered over it.) 

you can taste the alcohol from earlier when he kisses you and moan into it, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer, all teeth, tongue, and animalistic want. he ran a hand down your torso to reach the zipper of your suit, undoing it in one swift motion, exposing your bare chest to his eager eyes.

“no bra?”

“i don’t need it when the suit— ah!” 

he cut you off, not caring about the intricacies of how the costume supported everything when he would only get distracted, moving his lips to take one of your perk nipples in his mouth and sucking like it was going to give him milk or something while pinching the other one in between his fingers. he’s like a kid on christmas playing with his new toy: palming at your breasts, cupping and squishing them together, and realizing that his large hands could practically cover them entirely.

“fuckk, you’re so pretty, doll,” he drawled, letting go of your teat with a ‘pop’ and kissing your neck before making you gasp by sinking his teeth into your skin. you gasped at the sudden sensation, deep enough to leave a lasting indent but not deep enough to draw blood, as he soothed the fresh wound by licking it with his tongue. everyone was going to know that you were his, especially that motherfucker he knows is listening in on the other side of the door with his cock in his hands.

 “logan…” you rasp, voice barely above a whisper.

“what is it, princess?” it was a nickname he has used plenty of times, yet it felt completely different in such a sexually charged situation, so much more intimate in a way that you feel your heart racing even faster than before and a rush of energy within. 

“need you…” you murmured.

“come on, a little louder, you need to use your words.” 

“fucking hell,” you covered your face with your hands, trying to ignore the way your cheeks burned, “i need you, logan! i’m gonna go crazy if you don’t fuck me right now!”

“hm, is that so?” he had been resting on his side up until now, laying on his back and lifting you up with both hands under your arms. you found yourself sitting pretty in his lap, straddling him, legs on either side of his waist. “why don’t you work for it then? work for what you wanted so badly this entire time?”

you inhaled sharply, looking down at this fine specimen of a mutant under you made of pure muscle and adamantium with a noticeable tent in his pants, a cocky grin gracing his features daring you to continue. only a fool wouldn’t take up his challenge. biting the inside of your mouth, you began to fully strip yourself of all clothing, kicking it off to the side to be forgotten and showing off your beautiful bare body that logan has been dreaming about since the moment he met you. “take your clothes off too,” you huffed, “it’s not fair for me to be the only one naked.”

he hummed in agreement, taking off the upper half of his yellow and blue-detailed suit, revealing his rippling abs and pecs— age has yet to make a dent in his physique, he doesn’t even look real. he’s not going to remove the bottom half though, both because you’re already on top of him and because you still need to “work for it.” 

experimentally, you rolled your hips on his bulge, feeling a twinge of amusement when he visibly had to clench his jaw to prevent a moan from slipping out. he’s just as pent-up as you are, no matter how hard he’s trying to hide it right now. you fiddled with the metal of his zipper for a moment before pulling it down, motions fidgety with nerves yet still determined to see this through. 

your eyes widen at the sight of his fully erect cock, noting instantly that he’s bigger than any other guy you’ve been with, yet still feeling your mouth water at the size and the vein trailing its underbelly. “is it even going to fit?” you manage to breathe out, reaching out to run a finger over the leaking tip and hearing him hiss.

“only one way to find out, but i think you can take it.” 

placing your hands on his shoulders for balance, you put his theory to the test and raised your body to sink yourself onto him, whimpering at the pleasurable stretch when you manage to make it past the tip. you’re so fucking soaked from your own thoughts and the few minutes of foreplay earlier that you didn’t even need his fingers to prep you, just using your slick as a form of natural lube and feeling him slip into you inch by inch.

“that’s it, doll, just like that,” he praised, the words going right to your head, really enjoying the show of you struggling to take all of him.

“mmhh, lo—” his name came out in a more whiny voice than expected with your eyes rolling back and nails raking into his skin. your thighs were aching with the constant repetitive motion of working yourself up and down his cock, taking one step back for two steps forward, more than halfway there yet unsure if you could handle it all when you felt so impossibly full already.

“shhh, i know, i know, sweetheart— just take your time, i’m not going anywhere.” his words are so sweet despite being a complete asshole by laying back and letting you do all the hard work, hands behind his head and everything while watching his cock slowly disappearing between your folds.

you look at him through glossy half-lidded eyes, brain turned to absolute mush, not even realizing that you had finally taken him to the base and was comfortably nestled on his cock. it took a few moments to adjust to his girth, breathing heavily with the swelling feeling of satisfaction developing within you. you have barely even started, and yet it was already so much better than anything else— he was so much better than anyone else. 

“you okay?” he waits for you to blink to process his words before nodding slightly, letting out a soft ‘yeah’ before your eyes went wide when he suddenly grabbed your waist and positioned you under him once again. you didn’t notice because you went dumb with dick (to put it bluntly), but he had been restraining himself from flipping you over to be on top or trying to buck his hips into you before you were ready. 

he then started thrusting into you at a relentless pace, your hands flying up to his biceps and clinging on for dear life to find purchase. there was no frame to go with this mattress you were resting on, but you were sure it would be banging against the wall until it broke if it was there. your eyes were screwed shut with your head thrown back into the pillow, letting out pathetic pitched moans along with stutters of his name as the orgasm in your stomach builds.

“aah, lo-logan!”

“don’t worry, i got you,” he lazily circled your clit with his thumb, feeling you clench even more tightly at the action, “just let yourself go, relax— cum for me, doll.”

you cried out as your climax washed over you, gushing all over his cock and the pants of his suit that neither of you bothered to take off earlier. it’s a shame that you ruined his clothing so soon when he just got this costume, but honestly, he likes it a lot better when the yellow is stained with the evidence of how good he made you feel.

the way your walls spasmed around him made him quickly follow suit, shooting ribbons of his seed into you and painting your insides white. perhaps he would have been able to hold on for a bit longer when he was younger, but he can’t find himself caring in the least when you were looking up at him like he was everything right now.

he leaned down to kiss you, slowly pulling out of you, being careful not to rest on top of you and crush you under his weight, generally being uncharacteristically sweet towards you in stark comparison to how he was rocking your world like you were the last two souls on earth just a minute ago.

“so… do you like me?” it was the tone he grew accustomed to when you and wade were teasing him, feeling you wrap your arms around him with a sigh and snuggling into his chest.

“yeah… i like you a lot more than you think…”