#but definitely more plays than the average person | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

illusioninfnty · 1 year ago

Text

"it's a scream, baby!" ↠ day 15 ; keeping quiet

↠ billy loomis x reader x stu macher

fandom: scream word count: 3.9k warnings: nsfw 18+, gf!billy and stu, DUBCON, semi-public sex, homoerotic undertones, mentions of gore, cheating, degradation, dirty talk, thigh fucking, double penetration, knife play if you squint, gagging, unprotected sex, creampies, cumplay, cum eating, fingering, my stu bias definitely shows sorry guys

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

You weren’t really much of a party person, and all of your friends were aware of that. It was why none of them gave much resistance to the idea of you slipping away.

Stu’s house was insanely crowded, more than his usual parties. It was obviously because of the recent killing spree by the mysterious masked killer who had yet to be caught. Your general anxiety in loud spaces mixed with that of the unknown killer running around had you even more paranoid.

“Be careful!” Sidney calls out and Tatum waves as you make your way up the staircase. You send a small smile back as you weave your way through drunk teenagers stumbling all around, looking for more drinks.

You’ve been in Stu’s house plenty of times, having been friends with him for years at this point. You make a beeline straight for his bedroom, hoping that no one was in there hooking up so you could have a quiet place to decompress.

You knock loudly on his door, pressing your ear against it as the loud music and teens make it hard to hear inside. There’s no answer to your knowledge, and you slowly peek your head in.

No one is in the room, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You shut the door behind you and plop down on Stu’s bed, laying yourself out in a heap of exhaustion.

A bang from somewhere inside the room startles you, making you jump up from your seat. You notice that Stu’s closet door is slightly ajar, and figure that something inside fell down. You make your way over, the closet creaking as you open it.

A gasp leaves your lips and you step back after seeing what it was that fell.

It was one of the ghostface masks.

You slowly back away, eyes wide in disbelief with what you were seeing. No. It wasn’t possible, right? Stu couldn’t have been the killer; it made no sense. You bend down and cautiously pick up the mask.

It looks like your average store-bought cheap costume accessory. You inspect it closer, but bring a hand up to your mouth and almost drop the mask when you see what’s stained on it.

Small flecks of blood, all spattered across the edges.

The sound of the door creaking has you throwing the mask back into the closet and slamming the door, chest heaving as you pretend as though you weren’t searching through it.

In walks Stu, his trademark grin spread wide across his face.

“Now what are you doing in here?” he teases suggestively and wiggles his eyebrows. He closes the door and leans against it.

But clearly you’re not very good at hiding your emotions, because the smile instantly drops from Stu’s face. “Have you been…snooping in my things?”

You bite your lip and can feel your heart drop in your chest. “What? No! I just came in here to rest.” Your voice sounds incredibly shaking and you know there’s no way he’s buying it.

Stu’s eyes narrow, and he stalks closer to you. You back away in return, but his long strides make it difficult to put distance between the two of you. “I think you’re lying to me.”

He utters out your name in a warning tone. At this point, you know, he knows you know, and you know he knows you know that he’s the Ghostface killer. You make a feeble attempt to duck past Stu and make a run for it, but he grabs your arm and pulls you against his chest, completely restraining you.

You try your best at escaping. You pound on his chest, wiggle in his grip, and even try biting him. That fails miserably and Stu slaps his large palm against your mouth, preventing you from screaming for help.

He drags you over to the bed, and you start to kick your heels against his legs. You aren’t sure what he’s capable of anymore. Is this the moment you die? Is Stu going to kill you? You let out a choked sob underneath his palm, clawing at his hand but to no avail.

You push back against him with all of the force of your body, yet Stu remains solid. “Be quiet,” he mutters in your ear.

And then you feel it. On your backside, you can feel Stu getting hard. You whimper in fear, and your body goes limp. But he clearly notices that you could feel it, and he chuckles darkly.

“Got me excited with all that struggling, babe.” He shamelessly rubs himself against you, his erection fully hard beneath his pants now.

Despite the terror that you feel in that moment, you couldn’t help but moan silently.

You would be lying if you said you never thought of hooking up with your friend. Stu was hot, he was funny, and if Tatum was a reliable source, he also had a huge dick.

If fucking Stu could save you from death, you would gladly let him use you however he wished.

You quickly concoct a plan in your head—a lame one, but a plan—to seduce Stu in an attempt to hopefully convince him not to kill you afterwards.

Before you can even attempt to put your plan into action, the bedroom door creaks open. “Shit,” you hear Stu mutter under his breath. Both you and him turn together, and in walks Billy, sauntering as he usually does.

He pauses and raises an eyebrow as he surveys the position you and Stu are in.

“Did I interrupt something?” Billy smirks, his eyes going dark. You look up through your eyelashes at Stu, who presses you closer to him, as if warning you not to signal for help. He shakes his head at Billy.

“She knows, man.”

Your body goes completely rigid in Stu’s grip. A chill runs down your spine.

Billy was involved in this Ghostface shit too? Well, that actually surprised you less than Stu. Billy was kind of a horror junkie in secret, even rivaling Randy, and he always had this strange look in his eye whenever he thought no one was looking.

His eyes narrow and his jaw clenches. “Oh?”

The tone in his voice is sinister, much different than what you’ve heard from him before.

He strides over, pulling out a knife from his pocket and holding it out towards you.

You shriek, but it comes out all muffled. You try to tilt your head away from where Billy points the knife to your chin, but Stu keeps his hand solid, forcing your head forward.

He clicks his tongue at you, teasing you for your failed attempts to escape.

“I really didn’t want to kill you now, sweetheart, but I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Tears gather in your eyes, threatening to fall. You still helplessly struggle against Stu’s grip, choking back sobs. You so desperately want Stu to release his hand, want to beg the two of them to keep you alive. You’re two seconds away from sounding like you belong in a bad porno that the boys rent from the video store where the woman says please! I’ll do anything!

But you don’t need to do any of that. Because before Billy starts slicing and dicing and stabbing at you, he backs away and looks Stu up and down. He then barks out a laugh.

“What, did chasing her around get you all stiff?”

Stu grins cheekily and grinds his erection up against your butt. You let out a surprised moan under his palm, grabbing onto his forearm. “You know I’ve always wanted to fuck her, man.”

Billy eyes shift between you and Stu, before pausing on you. A smirk slowly grows across his features until it morphs into a toothy grin. You can see the way his cock begins to twitch in his jeans and your heart sinks into your stomach.

“I’m not going to let you fuck her alone tonight.”

As if Stu was waiting this whole time for Billy’s approval, the hand that was restricting your mouth moves off and down to his jeans. Before you can even think about opening your mouth, Billy brings the knife back up your face, right under your chin forcing you to keep your mouth closed and head tilted up to meet his eyes.

“If you say a word I’ll cut your throat open and stick my cock in it.” He imitates the motion of slicing the knife across your throat.

You swallow harshly and can’t control the way you tremble under Stu’s hold. But the depraved part of you has your core throbbing, at the carnal lust that fills his eyes, so desperately wanting them both to get to fucking you sooner rather than later.

Scoffing in his face, you try your best to put up a calm front. “Are you guys all bark and no bite? All I hear is talking but no action.”

“Oh you’ll be getting action soon, baby.” You can feel Stu’s erect cock rubbing against your backside and the way that his arousal stains your shirt. His hand holds it at the base as he guides it between your legs, slowly fucking you between your thighs. You look down to see the bulging red tip of his cock leaking beads of precum as it penetrates the plush skin of your legs with every thrust.

Billy takes his knife and slices your skirt right down the middle, the two pieces falling to shreds at your feet.

“Yeah, there it is!” Stu yells as his long fingers poke and prod at your pussy through your underwear until it soaks the fabric through. “All nice and wet for us now.”

He moves the material to the side of your puffy lips and without so much as a warning sticks his cock right inside.

“Oh fuck,” you moan out as quietly as you can with the intense pleasure. It slides in easily with how wet you’ve gotten over the past couple of minutes. You arch your back into Stu as his long cock bullies its way inside of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

Stu begins thrusting immediately, the sounds of your skin slapping together being the loudest thing in the room.

“Such a dirty little slut,” Stu’s voice teases, laughter evident in his tone. His arm around your waist holds you up as he pounds into you at lightning speed, bouncing you up and down his cock. Your feet lift off the ground ever-so-slightly as he pulls you up. “But I guess I’m kind of a slut to. Always wanted to fuck you like this.”

Through your lust-filled haze, you can see Billy stroking himself through his boxers, jeans already unzipped and pulled down. He stares at both you and Stu and where the two of you connect.

“You gonna join man?” Stu lifts you up under your thighs. The action lifts your feet up in the air and exposes your pussy directly in Billy’s line of view. Stu pulls his cock out enough so just the head remains inside, and starts fingering around your lips.

You gasp at the sensation, your arms gripping his own and your walls clenching down desperately onto him. Stu’s fingers make a v shape and pull your lips open wide. “There’s plenty of room for you in here.”

“N-no!” You sob out, clawing at Stu and kicking your legs. The implication is not subtle at all, and the fear has you clenching even tighter onto him. There was no way that you could fit both of them in your pussy. Stu’s cock is already thick and fills you completely; you don’t think you could take another one without breaking.

Billy continues to palm himself above his underwear, the head of his cock poking out from the elastic band. “Fuck yeah, now your speaking my language!”

“No! Billy!” You shake your head wildly, tears threatening to fall from your swollen eyes. “Stop! It won’t fit!”

He rolls his eyes and takes his hard cock out of his boxers, pumping it with a few solid strokes. “Stop complaining.”

“He’ll make it fit,” Stu giggles from behind you.

A strangled sound leaves your lips, a mix between a choke and a sob. You’re powerless in Stu’s hold as he moves your limbs every which way he pleases. He never lets up in his thrusts, his stamina completely insatiable, and it doesn’t feel like he’s stopping any time soon.

You have no choice but to lay helpless as Billy guides his cock into your wet hole, pushing against Stu’s. The stretch from the two of their massive lengths is painful, and you bite the outside of your hand as an attempt to soften your cries.

“Fuck,” Billy moans, slotting himself fully inside of you. His eyes squeeze shut and his head is thrown back in pleasure. Your hands press against his chest to stabilize yourself.

Your eyes roll back as you start moaning audibly, his cock stuffing you full alongside Stu’s.

“None of that.” Billy slaps a hand over your mouth and digs his fingers into your cheek. “If any one of those sleazebags outside hears those moans I’ll have to kill them and fuck you over their dead body.”

His voice is deep, gravely, and completely serious—you believe him in his entirety. You nod rapidly under his hold. You don’t want the death of anyone to be on your hands, no matter how annoying they are.

“Good. Now stay quiet.”

Billy and Stu take turns fucking themselves up into you. They give you any chance for a break, when one pulls their length almost completely out, the other shoves it in. They take turns pounding themselves into you. Your walls clench hard around them, being stretched to the brim. It takes all your power not to cry out from the pain and pleasure, but the fear from Billy’s unpredictably overpowers all other emotions.

Billy seems to be caught up in the haze of his own arousal, fingers digging in the skin of your hips as he thrusts his cock in and out of you rhythmically. He groans. “Forgot what it’s like to fuck a tight, wet hole. Sidney still hasn’t put out yet.”

Your body instantly freezes at Billy’s words. In the midst of all the chaos that involved finding out that two of your friends were active serial killers, both of them have been wanting to fuck you, and both of them actually proceeding to fuck you, you were ashamed to admit that you completely forgot about your the rest of your friends downstairs. Sidney and Tatum, two of your closest friends, were partying just below you and were blissfully unaware that you were in fact not resting from the partying, but instead getting your hole absolutely destroyed by their boyfriends just a couple hundred feet away.

The reality of your situation comes back to you and the dread starts to sink in. Instinctively, you begin thrashing your body all around, causing as much commotion as you can. Your nails end up scratching Stu on his arm. “Ow!” he whines out, but it’s a cross between a whimper and a turned on moan. He bites your neck in retaliation. “I like ‘em feisty, you know. Really gets my dick goin’.”

Billy, on the other hand, doesn’t take your failed act of defiance so lightly. His hand reaches up and squeezes your cheeks as he pulls your face close to him, not letting up with the pistoning of his hips.

“Not. A. Word.” Every syllable is spoken individually, heavily gritted out through clenched teeth. At that moment, an array of muffled voices is heard right outside the bedroom door. Billy and you turn to the source of the noise at the same time. Billy turns back to you first. “You know what happens if they walk in,” he trails off darkly, and out of the corner of your eye you can see the glint of his knife as it rests on the side table, within an arm's reach from him. If he wanted to, he could easily slip himself out of you and kill the unsuspecting partygoers within mere seconds.

He buries himself back inside of you as you say that, the two of their cocks fighting for their spots inside of your restrictive walls. Billy and Stu moan in unison at the feeling, both of you gripping onto them and the way they feel pressed up against each other.

As hopeless as your situation may seem in the end, you try to make due with what you have and not let the guilt consume you. There’s nothing you can do about it now unless you want multiple people to wind up dead. It’s fairly easy to erase your mind of anything other than the two guys currently surrounding you, whose relentless thrusts make your vision go white and limbs go numb.

Stu attaches himself onto your neck, no doubt leaving a trail of hickeys that’ll last for days. You lean your head back into him, giving him more access to the area. His long tongue licks all around the area, sending shivers down your spine.

His mouth eventually makes its way up to your own and Stu covers it, kissing you with great fervor. His tongue slides into your mouth, swirling it around with your own tongue. The kiss is sloppy and uncoordinated, but it feels perfectly like him. It’s intimate as he massages your tongue and brings his hand up to cup your jaw. In that single moment, you can pretend like your new revelation didn’t exist and that this is just a sensual moment between you and your friend, who’s kissing you like his life depends on it.

But that’s not the case, as Billy brings you back to reality once again. He spanks your ass which has you gasping into Stu’s mouth and your eyes opening wide.

Spit dribbles out the side of your mouth as Stu finally lets up, moaning into your jaw. He gives your neck a big kiss before sucking another hickey into it. “I can be romantic sometimes,” he whispers teasingly into your ear, causing you to shiver.

Billy and Stu pound into you, even harder than before if possible, their hips snapping up against your body.

You know that your orgasm is fast approaching, the various simulations making you feel desperate for a release.

“Please, please, please, please,” your voice is hoarse as you whisper out in a breathy tone to keep as quiet as possible.

“Yeah? You want our cum inside of you?” Billy coaxes you, but you can tell that he’s just as close to reaching his peak as you are given the uneven rhythm of his ruts, pushing slightly against the pattern he had set with Stu.

You nod your head as much as you can, your vision going blurry with the speed you move it. You can feel Billy’s cock throb furiously in you and it's enough to make you reach your own orgasm before him, clapping a hand over your mouth as to not alert your presence to anyone outside.

Billy’s orgasm follows your own soon after, with a strangled moan leaving his lips as his hot cum releases all inside you. The mix of your two juices allows for easier movement within your walls, and after he’s done climaxing Billy slides out of you with ease.

But Stu is nowhere near stopping.

With the result of your’s and Billy’s releases aiding him, Stu ruts himself even further into you. He manhandles you so that instead of your previous position of being twisted in the air as Stu stands behind you, he throws you down on top of the bed and climbs on top of you, humping into you from behind with a newfound vigor.

“Finally get you to myself for a bit,” Stu grits out of his teeth as his hips piston at an immeasurable speed.

You can’t speak at this point, completely cockdrunk from the brunt of the thrusts you’re taking. Stu’s broad body completely engulfs your form as he pounds you into the bedsheets. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, and your tongue lolls out of your mouth, only low whimpers and droll being produced from it.

You can hear the squelching of your pussy, the result of Billy’s cum and your juices, as Stu pounds his cock as far as it reaches. You can feel the release escape the sides of your pussy lips with the brunt of Stu’s thrusts and you can’t help but whine softly as some of the warmth and fullness from the cum leaves your body.

Stu’s hand runs through your hair until he grabs it at the base. He pushes your head down completely into the bed, using much more pressure than what was needed. The force of it causes your ass to arch further into him as he presses his front fully against your back, curving his form as if morphing to the shape of your hunched and fucked out form.

“Now that’s a nice view,” he groans out, one hand at the root of your hair and the other pawing at your ass.

Animalistic grunts leave Stu’s mouth and you can feel as he reaches the cusp of his orgasm. Curses leave his lips as he finally cums, pushing himself inside you as deep as he can and hitting parts never reached before. You can feel the jets of his hot release inside of you as it comes out in huge, thick spurts.

When Stu finally leaves your walls, the mix of all three of your orgasms comes flowing out, making you moan at the loss of the fullness from all three of you.

“C’mon now, push it all outta you,” Billy’s voice calls out from across the room, speaking up from his previous silent observer role as he recovered from his own peak.

You obey, squeezing as much as you can with your weak body. You can feel globs of cum escape your entrance, cooling as it runs down your thighs and onto the sheets below you.

You flinch as you feel Stu’s fingers scoop some out of you, and the smacking of his lips indicates he tasted it. You moan, only able to picture what the scene looks like.

“Oh? You want some?” Stu’s fingers hastily appear in front of you. The fingers from his other hand pull your mouth open and he shoves the cum covered ones inside, making you gag instantly. He rams them in and out of your mouth, barely giving you any time to properly suck on the cum. Flecks of the fluid fly out of your mouth along with your own saliva. Tears fall without a warning, your gag reflex working overtime.

Stu’s fingers fuck your mouth until all of the cum is virtually gone from them. When he finally pulls them out, your body completely collapses. It trembles furiously from all the overstimulation, unable to hold itself up.

Stu gives you a big wet kiss on your cheek and slaps his now-limp cock onto your bare ass. You can only whimper in response, your body too heavy to move any part of it right now. Your vision is blurry, but through it you manage to make out Billy, with his sweaty complexion and rumpled clothes back on his body, talking down to you.

“You stay put until we can get everyone to piss off. We’ll be back for round two.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #ghostface #ghostface x reader #billy x reader x stu #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #scream x reader #billy loomis smut #stu macher smut #ghostface smut #scream smut #slasher smut #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slashers smut

14K notes · View notes

mrchoppedslefthand · 20 days ago

Text

Homicipher Random Headcanons/Scenarios [NSFW]

Edit:11/07/2024

I desperately needed to post the random head canons and scenarios of our husbands that my brain kept cooking up (+ some from discord friends), so the list is not organized. Also, since we shape shift, I'm going to assume we can choose whenever we have a cock or pussy (because I want to be fucked and do the fucking) Anyways...enjoy the food thought.

Characters: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Chopped Mr. Silvair, Mr. Hood, Mr. Gap, Mr. Machete, Mr. Scarletella

Warnings: mentions of NSFW, mentions of some canon-typical violence, implications of dubcon, mentions of somnophilia, implied cuckold

Mr. Crawling

He can be submissive top. Constantly asking you if you love him during intimacy. He would ask if you enjoy playing with him as you pound yourself onto him. He would be a moaning mess and probably wouldn't know what to do about it as he clumsily places his hands around your waist.

He would definitely eat you out without you asking once intimacy had been initiated.

Afraid of hurting you, he wouldn't be too rough, instead he would be more tender and gentler when it comes to intimacy.

He definitely would love it when you play with his hair, allowing you to braid it or do whatever as long it doesn't involve cutting his precious hair.

He actually gets jealous easily, but he doesn't verbalize it, instead he shows it through his actions.

He is better with his hands, than his cock. So sometimes you prefer that over his cock. His cock is more on the average/smaller side and it's cute.

He definitely has a praise kink.

Mr. Chopped

He lacks a body, so to make up for it he is extremely expressive and open with his feelings. Which makes him a little fun to bully, to see all those cute expressions he could make.

He probably would be very good with his mouth and tongue, let him be your personal rose toy/fleshlight if you will. He can't fight back and have no choice but to whimper about it.

Imagine getting sick and fainting with him nearby, he can't move or do anything but helplessly cry for you to wake up and starts crying out help for Mr. Silvair to come help him and you.

Maybe one day, for a day of tricks and pranks. Mr. Stitch will allow Mr. Chopped a day in his body, so they swap places, stitching Mr. Chopped in place of Mr. Stitch's head. It had been a very long time since Mr. Chopped felt sensations beyond his head, so he happens to be very sensitive and clumsy with his hands. Everywhere you touch overwhelms him, he melts and becomes a moaning mess, but Mr. Chopped isn't the only one feeling all these sensations. Mr. Stitch can still feel it too. He is intrigued by today's type of play.

He definitely would be more on the whiny and needy side when it comes to pleasure, he lacks a body, but he can still feel lust. He can't do anything about it, which makes him extremely needy and extra pouty.

Mr. Silvair

Definitely would have had intimacy with other ghosts/humans before to research the body and performance during mid transformation if it differed.

Imagine one day he finds a mysterious liquid that fell from the 'other world' and feeds it to you, himself and the other ghosts in your crew. Only to find out it was an aphrodisiac. It was the first time he felt such a strong sensation of lust. At first, he mistakes this strong desire to be violence, so he starts to self-inflict wounds onto himself. You attempt to stop him, but soon find yourself to be underneath him as he bites into your neck, drawing blood. Surprised at seeing the often-composed man, turning into a ravage beast. You somehow manage to find something to tie him up and have your way with him.

He probably likes overstimulation on you...but also himself. He would love to research on how much his body can go and handle.

He would actually be a switch, for research purposes. To take and give he'd do anything for research. It had been long long ago since his body used to be human, and he often forgets about his own experiences if he doesn't write them down, but no worries, he has you by his side now to keep remembering.

Mr. Hood

He is quiet but speaks whenever he finds it suited for. But if you need him, he would be happy to talk with you.

He is a bit insecure about his body, he doesn't have arms or hands or even legs, he is an entity of nothing. The clothes are what shape his form, and well maybe he not entirely a entity of nothing. You had a glimpse before, a small glimpse and sensation of a squishy and somewhat slimy part that had belonged to him. You never mentioned though, but if it was you'd love him still anyways.

He realized that some words had been a bit harder for you to keep in mind and remember and so he thought of a special way to get you learning. Learning with what humans call pleasure. He fucks you and asks you what certain things are, and if you get it wrong, he denies you from coming. You have become determined to learn your words properly even more so now. Because if you remember you get rewarded with the most absolute fulfilling fuck of your life.

Since most of his body is invisible or nothing. If you mouth fucked him you would be able to see that real good, it is strangely erotic watching your cock move inside his mouth.

Mr. Gap

When you're sleeping, sometimes he might just cuddle against your leg or lower half. He loves the feeling of warmth, compared to his hollow darkness.

He definitely seems like the type of person to eat you out while you're asleep. Playing around and waiting for you to wake up to watch your reaction. Of course, he would only do this though if he knew you'd allow it. He values consent.

Imagine taking your backpack to school and you have to take out a pencil for a test. When you open your backpack, you realize it is just an empty void and hear a voice asking for your heart in exchange for the pencil. Yeah... you accepted your fate. You just failed your exam...

When you become a moaning mess under him, he can't understand but he knows that from your sweet voice, and moans, that it's a good thing. He knows to keep continuing.

One day Mr. Gap gathers his usual newspapers that fall from the rubble or somehow manages to grab one from the human realm. He notices a magazine that discusses about marriage and giving rings on the fourth finger. Intrigued about this idea, he asks you for your all four of your fingers, but you misunderstand and refuse to give him your fingers. He's sad but soon you later find out that he was asking for your hand in marriage, literally but also figuratively.

Mr. Machete

We would wonder aimlessly for an eternity together searching for his/your home. But eventually our subconscious would recognize each other as home instead.

He would definitely mock and laugh at how fast you would falter/melt under his touch. Calling you "weak" for coming so fast but would give kisses here and there after the mocking.

He'd probably be into throat fucking and laugh at you looking pathetic, he loves reactions that aren't boring, so seeing you choke on his cock seems like a great idea.

He definitely would come inside most of the time.

When he fucks you, his cock would probably bulge out a little from your stomach, fascinated by it he'd roughly press his hand down near that area.

He is our beefy dumb macho, perfect.

If you mouth/fucked him he would tell you he feels nothing, but his eyes would already be red and tearing. He's a pathetic coward.

Mr. Scarletella

He belongs to you, and you belong to him, together forever, in a hellish world. He loves the destruction you bring into his life and does the same for you.

Oh boy, he would absolutely devour you, his queen, in pleasure. Fuck you stupid to the point you're just a blabbering mess, hands on waist, and long fingers in your mouth, as he pounds deeply into you.

He seems like the type of guy to fuck you during your period.

Definitely gets jealous easily and he makes it know when he gets that way.

Imagine your fucked/fucking another ghost and you hear static within the distance, the sound slowly starts to come closer and closer until you hear the static in the room. Your crimson servant arrives and witnesses your fantastic display of intimacy. Jealous, he kills them and becomes extra possessive and quite terrifying, but you love it so much. How he seems so lost and pathetic without you.

You don't know his name, but neither does he know yours. Despite this disconnect, you still manage to give him some sort of other named to be called. It's connected to your name, but he knows it's not all of it, he can't fully whisk you away, but he's okay with that. You are still bound to him for an eternity anyway.

If Mr. Scarletella went back to the human world with you instead, he would appear to be the one most suited for fitting in. Just slack some foundation on his face, make him wear gloves and he would blend in quite well. Well...except for his odd habit of asking every stranger for their name and laughing and giggling crazily each time.

He would have a praise and degradation kink, he's not a whore. He's YOUR whore. He likes being YOURS.

#文字化化 #homicipher #homicipher headcanons #headcanon #my headcanons #mozibake #mojibake #horror games #horror vn #visual novel #mr crawling #mr chopped #mr chopped head #silvair #mr silvair #mr gap #mr machete #mr scarletella #mr hood

3K notes · View notes

ozzgin · 10 months ago

Note

I looveee the Monsters x Heartbreaker reader. Especially how reader is a b**ch.

So what about a motherly reader with the monsters? I do love to give those monsters an awakening breeding kink and future family when they meet motherly reader lmao

TW: monster smut, breeding kink, pregnancy talk

I think it definitely adds another layer of possessiveness. Reader is not only a player, but also a caring Darling who just happens to be hornier than the average person. So she will lovingly accept the courting of any monster, with a lot of preparation and plenty of aftercare.

The realization doesn't immediately settle in. Obviously they've never dealt with a human before, so pregnancy is borderline ridiculous and out of the question. The monsters just follow their instincts and filling Reader with their seed is merely a kinky finale to their play.

And then it happens. Maybe it's a pregnancy scare, maybe more knowledge comes to light, but the important conclusion is that Reader can indeed be bred. It's the ultimate way to mark their territory and permanently brand her as theirs. What better way to say "She's mine" than turning her into the mother of their children? Bite marks, scratches, rough handling, they all go away with time. This is permanent.

Except, you know, this flawless logic implies there's not a horde of suitors waiting for their turn. "You're all mine", but multiply it by Lord knows how much. Yet, regardless of the reasoning, the urge prevails. No rational approach would convince the beasts in heat that they should take a step back. Even the ancient, all-knowing eldritch creature is clouded by tremendous jealousy at the idea that some other pathetic brute would gain the upper hand with Reader. Absolutely not.

It's a terribly crass way of putting it, but once this desire develops within the monsters, Reader will be dripping every step of the day. Whatever was happening under the sheets before has now turned into who can fill Reader up the most.

*insert multiple gas pumps meme*

(Ah, yes, that's where the Breeding Olympics from the previous ask come in. I almost forgot. Naturally, only the best of the best may have the chance to procreate with the one and only human of their realm. Funded by the Mayor of Monstertown, the historical event will ensure that Reader doesn't waste her time - and birthing resources - with anything less than elite.)

#absolutely shameless #group therapy next door in 2 hours #yandere monsters #yandere #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #yandere x reader #monster smut #monster boyfriend #tw breeding kink

2K notes · View notes

noxtivagus · 2 years ago

Text

hdflkjasdklf i'm just thinking of certain characters n stories hehe

#🌙.rambles #no bcs why out of all gbf characters it is Belial that is on my mind lately.. 💀 he's so sus but there's smth sad abt him to me that i think #uh. makes me. feel drawn. SOMEHOW. charas in general that like i don't like them just bcs they're sad. i just Like them n later realize how #similar i am in a way n huh. maybe part of me. perhaps not really relate but i think i understand ^ him with lucilius. but. nyways #sometimes i find myself having ideas from time to time for. scenarios n stories n maybe not super concrete? even just the idea or the #emotion & sentiment of it. even if it's a mess bcs i just dump phrases n words from time to time.#i really like reading my own words. they remind me a lot of myself n resonate a lot with me.. i wrote them all after all before.#😭 ok i just got a notif bcs i have smth due in 24 hours from now.. (-> i ended up venting again but i have no more space to tag it)#there's a lot i'm stressed abt. anxious even. it's not rlly a big deal in the end n eventually the burden of my regrets will hurt less but #noooo i keep on rambling abt that i guess there's rlly just so much weighing me down in my mind But i will persevere!!!!#imagining stuff or wtvr n indulging in. idk any form of self-expression n being creative brings me so much comfort #when the break comes i'll read books i'll write stuff too i'll watch stuff i'll play video games i'll play/listen to music i'll. yeah. Live #like i want. but like success has always still meant a lot to me i'm too strict on myself w that so w school i constantly just feel trapped #even if assignments r easy n i understand all my lessons in general. i'll pass CETs certainly i'll succeed in the future i know that's who #i'll be but every single mistake just tears me apart and makes me forget who i am as a whole. i've always been 'better' in a way than your #average person i've always mostly generally done well & good but never ever quite the 'best'. so while i do love my intelligence n all as #a whole. ffs i know better but i end up being too harsh when it comes to my shortcomings. so. stuff like stories n games n yeah #those allow me to be free in a way. from my own restraints. from my own cage. so to not. be able to do that too rlly makes me forget myself #while w work n personal stuff like that i'm mostly sure of myself but when it comes to. me w ppl in this world. it's so. unpredictable?#that's just how ppl r. it's. intriguing to me definitely but. confusing. i long to belong but it's hard when most of my life i've felt..#i'm not rlly sure how to phrase it. it's in my head but yeah. so.. i'm rlly just a mess w that. i think i tend to isolate n distance myself #so easily bcs i fall far too much w the thought that. nothing much wld change? recently i'm so confused too bcs i'm aware of reality but #then i'm also just so confused n then a mess in general but i'm returning to like my old self when it comes to stories. embracing that agai #understanding myself a bit more while being distant w others but also lost for the very same reason. ITS SO CONFUSING n complex ofc.#which is. v human ig. but i'm not taking care of myself well so ffs it feels like i'm falling behind but i'm technically productive w work?#stuck between remembering. v well. i'm not too brain empty in the present too. n. i've been v keenly aware of the future #it's all going far too fast n i'm not keeping up Well Enough. the helplessness i think i wrote a while back #bcs i want to stop or i want to do smth or just change n get things done but it's not That easy. n it's been like this for so long now #i'll be fine my mind's just a mess rn n i'm just so frustrated w myself but i'm well enough. a bit empty but i'm fine.#there's a lot more to write n i could have done this in my notes but i'll stop anyways i'll work now. i'll try not to stay up Too late 🥹🫶🏼

1 note · View note

princessofangiemania · 5 months ago

Text

𝑺𝒖𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚: 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝑺𝑷 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒑𝒂𝒅-𝒆𝒔𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚

First and foremost, I would like to apologise for my inactivity ;w; I've been so focused on school, it was HECTIC and boy do I have a lot of success stories, this being one of them. So start of the school year, I wasn't planning on manifesting a boyfriend. I just wanted good grades, beauty and stuff. Long yapping session ahead!!

I was friends with this guy. Our whole friendship started because I was bored and wanted to play cupid (He liked another girl). So I was talking with him a lot, I was his right-hand woman. But this guy, he's not fond of making first moves but the girl isn't either. Long story short, he got rejected they didn't end up together. Let's call my SP "Coco" for good measure. You thought that was the end of it and we just remained friends? Wrong, I started developing feelings for him and womp womp (I actually thought he was physically attractive when I first saw him but backed off when I saw he liked another girl because I wasn't that attached yet). An even funnier story, we're in a four-person friend group. (2 boys and 2 girls), the other two are a couple. So our friend-group was more like a double date if we did end up together. Since my 18th birthday party was coming up, I had to pick a partner for the cotilion. And I picked him (He was convinced) and I even proposed a solo. So while we were practicing, we had lots of moments and I'm pretty clumsy, you can pretty much imagine that. There came our field trip. And it was mostly water sports. After that, we were all given free time to play in the pool for about two hours. I began carrying people randomly and they started doing the same to me. I actually carried Coco too and of course he carried me too. Around dismissal, I switched places with the other guy in our friend group and sat next to him. Average romance anime cliche moment, I fell asleep on his shoulder. To fast forward through, I confessed to him but he gave me a "You deserve better, I love you as a friend" but not a definite no. The rejection is implied but what does our LOA Barbie girlie do? We persist. That time wasn't the best, I was more than awkward around him but all I thought was, "This is for the plot" over and over again.

Like a Wattpad love story, it started picking up on the day of my 18th birthday, when we sang Photograph. Not relevant? It played our part in 18 Roses (In Philippine culture, it is customary for a girl to dance with 18 bachelors to signify her coming of age). And of course, I just had to experience all the cliche moments like him holding an umbrella over me, carrying my bag, going to get ice cream, walking somewhere and exchanging longing glances when the other wasn't looking and it all came down to a pool party we had when the school year ended. I got drunk (My dumbass thought the punch was orange juice and filled my cup all the way through) and I was just mostly chilling by the jacuzzi because of it. Coco over here, if we weren't hogging the karaoke machine, we were just chilling in the jacuzzi by ourselves (And the annoying pick-me girl of the class occasionally) and when I got too drunk, apparently I asked if I could hug him and for the last 2 hours or so, I was just hugging him. It was weird because Coco would usually join water sports going on in the other pool but he decided to just chill with me.

Before we got together, just like how I would write a wattpad fanfiction, there was the mandatory angst misunderstanding. The confession was really something. Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift was playing in the background and we became an official couple at exactly 12 midnight. Now, we're in a happy and loving relationship! Honestly, I was scared of what he'd be like in a relationship (Cuz I thought he wouldn't give me what I needed, E.G. princess treatment) but since I persisted and said to myself that what I wanted would always be given to me, I'm proud to say I'm dating a guy who practically worships the ground I walk on, not afraid to show his affection and respectful. I could go on and on about how good my relationship is how he treats me so well but I'd save you all the sappy stuff.

#Princess Angie's post 💘#manifestation #manifesting #law of assumption #loassumption #loa tumblr #success stories #loa success stories #manifesting sp #answering asks

449 notes · View notes

swappermanent · 9 days ago

Text

e-Swap (Part 2)

Read Part 1 by @swapery here.

Liam's POV:

It’s wild to look back on it now. Four years ago, I was just a cocky kid scrolling through Tumblr, indulging in bodyswap roleplays. I mean, it’s hot, right? The idea of becoming someone else, walking in their skin, living their life—it’s escapism at its best.

To be honest, though? What really turned me on the most was the idea of someone else wanting to take over my life. And this guy—Kristoph—he wanted to step into my shoes, take over everything about me, and, I don’t know… maybe live my life better than I could. That hit me somewhere deep.

Sure, I found Kristoph hot. Objectively speaking, he was attractive. He had this kind of rugged, manly charm—average height, short curly brown hair, a beard that was thick but didn’t quite fill in everywhere. In gay terms, he’d be an “otter,” though not the polished, Instagram-perfect kind. Still, there was something about him, something raw and real.

But what I found so hot wasn’t necessarily his looks. It was the roleplay itself. The back-and-forth, the fantasy of letting someone else become me—it was intoxicating. So I flirted with him, told him how hot he was and how much I wanted to be him too. It egged him on, made him want me even more. And that was harmless, right? That’s what roleplaying is for. It’s not real life. Nobody actually thinks they’re going to wake up in someone else’s body.

And who knows? If it hadn’t been for what happened next, I probably would’ve gotten bored after a few days and moved on. I’ve done it before. I’m a bit… boy-obsessive. A bit of a heartbreaker, if I’m being honest. Cute guys came and went. I was always onto the next. And, let’s be real, it usually worked for me because, well, I was even cuter.

But that’s not what happened.

---

I was completely thrown when I woke up one morning in Kristoph’s body. Like, how the fuck was that even possible? I stared at myself—well, at him—in the mirror, touching the unfamiliar beard, the broader shoulders, the chest that didn’t feel like mine. It didn’t make any sense.

The first thing I did was try to contact myself. I called my phone—my phone, which was now across the world in Australia, in Kristoph’s hands. No answer. I sent messages on Tumblr, over and over, desperate to get a reply, but it was like shouting into the void.

Confusion quickly turned to anger. As the hours dragged on, I couldn’t shake the growing suspicion that he must’ve done this to us somehow. He must’ve found a way. What other explanation could there be?

How could he do this to me? To us? Without even asking? Without telling me it was real?

Well… okay. He had asked, technically. And I had consented, in a joking way. But I thought it was all pretend. A game. Roleplay. Something to get off on—not… this.

Now I was out of moves. Totally stuck. Kristoph lived in England—or I guess I did now—and I lived in Australia. Or, well, he did. Either way, it wasn’t like I could just hop on a plane and go confront him. What was I even supposed to say? “Hey, give me my body back”? Impossible.

---

As I began to accept the fact that I was stuck in Kristoph’s body, resentment crept in. I hated how I looked. I mean, I know I’d flirted with him online—played it up, told him how hot I thought he was—but I didn’t actually want to be him. Not for real.

Honestly, I couldn’t stand his beard. It was scruffy, patchy, and felt like a chore to maintain. And in person? He was so much shorter than I’d imagined. That one photo he’d sent me had totally oversold him. His muscles were fine, I guess, but not as impressive as I’d hoped. Definitely felt like I’d been catfished.

And the worst part? He had no hot romantic prospects at all. No dates, no flirty DMs, no wild social life. The guy was a total dud. Meanwhile, I was stuck in his body while he got the better end of the deal.

It didn’t take long for me to start seeing his posts online. There he was, shirtless and flaunting my old twinky body for the world to see. He was out everywhere—hanging with my friends, partying, meeting people I didn’t even recognize. Hot, sexy guys who I could only assume were his latest hookups or maybe even a boyfriend.

At first, it made me furious. How could he be so bold, living my life like that? But slowly—bit by bit—I found myself getting turned on by those posts. Watching him, in my body, owning the life I’d built, looking amazing in photos, thriving without me… it did something to me.

He still wouldn’t reply to my texts, but it’s not like he’d blocked me on social media either. If anything, it felt like he wanted me to see it all. To flaunt it. After all, he’d been into bodyswap fantasies too—he probably loved the idea of me watching him live my life better than I ever could.

And damn, was he doing a good job. I started thinking about how well he was pulling it off. He didn’t need my help or guidance; he didn’t need anything from me at all. He’d just stepped into my shoes and thrived.

I couldn’t help it after a while—it turned me on. Seeing him so confident, so free, so successful in my life was like watching my biggest fantasy unfold before my eyes. It was frustrating. It was infuriating.

And it was so fucking sexy.

---

Eventually, I turned my focus to fixing up my new body, accepting that this situation was probably permanent. There wasn’t much else I could do.

At first, I tried to go back to my old look—the twinky vibe I’d always rocked. It felt safe, familiar. I shaved the beard and acted a bit more submissive, like I used to. But the more I leaned into it, the more wrong it felt.

It was almost like this body was resisting me, like it was pushing me to be something else. Something… jockier. Stronger. It was weird, but I couldn’t ignore it.

So I regrew the beard, but this time I made it work—neat, full, and intentional. Then I started trying out sports, just to see what stuck. Tennis, running, biking… I gave them all a go.

But the one that really clicked for me was rugby. Something about it felt right, like this body was made for it.

I threw myself into it. It was a lot of hard work—hours in the gym, changing how I ate, how I moved, how I carried myself. But over time, I started to see real results. The body I was living in became exactly what Kristoph had pretended to be all those years ago: a true muscle hunk.

It wasn’t just the body, though. Something about the discipline, the structure, the focus it took to transform myself—it all changed me, too. I started posting on social media, sharing my progress. And damn, the attention rolled in. Now I’ve got more hot guys sliding into my DMs than I can keep track of.

But here’s the thing—I’ve learned a lot about how to treat people, about how to navigate relationships. I’m not the boy-obsessive heartbreaker I used to be. That’s made the best ones—the guys who actually matter—want me even more.

Honestly? I’ve never felt more in control, more confident, or more like me.

---

That brings me to today. I just got an email telling me to check the messages on this old Tumblr account, one I’d almost forgotten I even had. It was from Liam.

I was surprised to see his name pop up after all these years. Part of me wondered what he wanted, but honestly? I didn’t even read it. And I’m definitely not going to respond. Why would I?

So consider this post my way of signing off for good. I’ve learned my lesson—I know better than to mess around on those forums ever again.

Besides, look at me now. I’m hot as fuck. Why would I ever want to be anyone but me?

#Kris Kraig

264 notes · View notes

stsgluver · 10 months ago

Text

𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟓 — gojo satoru

synopsis. there's nothing more romantic than travelling halfway across the world for the girl you love... even if it is two years late.

wc. 3.4k

tags. none really, yn is described as shorter than megumi, possible ooc for EVERYONE, lowkey forgot how to write halfway through, possible spelling mistakes and plotholes (pls still like my writing i beg)

a/n. im sorry i never really got round to answering the comments on the last post but i have added everyone to the taglist who asked. so i did write two endings but one was bad SO i stuck to this one only <3 i hope this is the right end to the series and thank you sm for the support over the last few months!! i will have a 'spin-off-ish' series focused on the students making the videos in the first place which i will add the link to on this chapter once it's up. this is for @ilovejugs69 ly pookie

previous part / series masterlist

“this is such a bad plan.”

megumi let out a small sigh, resting his head back on the leather of the plane’s seat. an economy seat – much to gojo’s dismay – but there hadn’t been much time to consider other options, bar gojo buying himself a personal private jet and hiring a pilot all in the space of less than an hour.

the dark-haired student clutched the arm rests as he felt his stomach churn in knots as the reality of their decision sunk in. it was a very last minute and muddled plan but gojo was desperate to see you again and megumi wanted nothing more than to have his family back – so when gojo offered to take them both to the other side of the world to find you, he agreed a little too quickly. spontaneity was not his thing and with each passing second he was remembering why.

gojo shuffled himself back in his seat, nose scrunching up in annoyance as he struggled with the small gap for his longer-than-average legs. if his height wasn’t drawing the pair any attention (which it certainly was), the uniforms and the sorcerer’s blindfold definitely were. he didn’t need his six eyes to feel the stares of strangers.

“i’ve never had a bad plan in my life.”

megumi scoffed at the declaration, rolling his eyes at the white haired sorcerer’s misplaced confidence. like it wasn’t gojo’s idea to send megumi on that mission alone that ultimately resulted in yuuji swallowing sukuna’s finger or his idea to prank nanami on his birthday that got both himself and the first years all detention.

“don’t roll your eyes at me, young man,” gojo lightly swatted megumi’s arm, wiggling one of his fingers in front of the younger boy’s face. “your mother will think i’m a shit dad and won’t come back.” megumi ignored the tightening in his chest at the casualness of gojo’s words.

“you are a shit dad,” he retorted, closing his eyes and willing the next seven hours to go by faster than they were. he didn’t hate flying, but he wasn’t the biggest fan, and the nerves that were building up alongside the nonstop chatter from the man beside him were definitely not helping.

gojo gasped and megumi felt him jostling in the seat next to him, he could only imagine the dramatics his teacher was pulling in public. it was best he kept his eyes closed.

“that wasn’t very nice. god, teenagers and their angst these days.”

megumi heard gojo mumbling loudly under his breath and there was no doubt in his mind that there was a cheshire grin on gojo’s face, daring him to take the bait and bicker like the mature adult he was.

however annoying he may have found him, megumi knew that gojo was just as nervous as he was. the two, however, were just polar opposites in all aspects. so while megumi just wanted to spend the next few hours trying to sleep and hope he’d have the courage to face you when he woke up, gojo wanted to play avoidance by teasing him as if they weren’t travelling halfway across the world for you.

when megumi didn’t respond, to gojo’s disappointment, a silence settled between the two. with his hands now stuffed in the pockets of his uniform and head almost on gojo’s shoulder, the dark haired sorcerer attempted to finally fall asleep.

“do you think she’s mad at me?” megumi asked quietly after about five minutes.

gojo hummed thoughtfully, looking down at the teenager almost asleep on his shoulder. “she has no reason to be mad at you,” he said in the most reassuring tone he could muster.

“she’s never messaged me back,” megumi countered.

“at least yours still go through.” gojo huffed lightly, an attempt at brightening megumi’s mood at the expense of himself but it only left both more unsettled at their predicament. he knocked his knee into the younger boy’s gently. “get some sleep, this is going to be a long flight.”

“if you just take a seat here, i will go see if ma’am is available. it’s so lovely to meet her family finally.” a woman dressed in formal attire gestured towards a small lobby waiting room with a bright smile.

there was no one else in there apart from one middle-aged guy with a briefcase, newspaper in hand. gojo thanked the woman, hand on megumi’s shoulder as he led him into the back corner of the white minimalist room.

the sun had set by the time they’d landed and found your office building – something that gojo had forced shoko to send him. he hadn’t even had a chance to tell her what they were doing before he’d gotten on the plane so after she had a go at him for leaving her out of the loop and not bringing her too, she sent across the necessary details with demands for regular updates.

“i bet she’s going to call security,” megumi sighed as he dropped himself down into the black leather seat, resting his head back against the wall behind him. between school and the plane journey, he’d been awake for nearly twenty hours and the stiff seat he was on felt like a pile of feathers. he was going to fall asleep before he’d even had the chance to see you.

gojo crossed one leg over the other, hands crossed behind his head. the teenager wanted to elbow him for his calm posture – he could have as well, he’d dropped his infinity the second the two had entered the building. the second the older sorcerer had stepped into the building he knew you were here, recognising the cursed energy that brought him a familiar comfort he’d missed. “why would she?”

megumi snapped his head in his direction, eyes opening to give him an incredulous look, “why would you say you’re her husband?”

gojo waved a hand dismissively, “i basically am–”

“was. several years ago.” megumi countered and gojo’s mouth dropped open at the audacity of his pupil to point out the obvious facts.

rolling up the sleeves of his jacket, gojo began to stand up and megumi was close to cracking a smile at his behaviour. the delirium of not sleeping was beginning to sink in. “okay, kid–”

“you’re here.”

gojo’s sleeves dropped just as fast as megumi stood up from his seat, both more alert than they had been all day. suddenly, the uneasy feeling megumi had had on the plane didn’t seem so bad, this was so much worse.

you’d barely changed since you’d left, bar your hair being a few inches longer. if the two looked closely enough at you, they’d realise you were just as wrecked with nerves as they were as you struggled to stop your hands from shaking.

when the receptionist had first come up to tell you that your husband and son were here to see you, your initial reaction had been to say she’d made a mistake… until the cryptic message shoko had sent you thirty minutes earlier started to make a lot more sense.

she was the only one you’d maintained regular contact with after you’d left. initially you had gone on a complete no contact with everyone, refusing to even acknowledge that you had a life and a family in japan. you were scared and you’d chosen the coward's way out by running. it felt wrong to still have strings binding you to a life that was no longer yours.

but you missed her and you worried constantly about gojo and megumi, so you’d slowly built up messaging her once a month to every few days just to know everyone was still alive.

you had desperately wanted to take megumi with you but you didn’t have it in you take him away from his sister and, despite how you’d laid into him about how even he had limitations, you knew megumi was safer with gojo than you. in america, you were vulnerable to curse users and curses alike without the protection of any other sorcerers or specialist schools to help you.

the three of you probably looked like idiots to the other man in the room, all staring at each other too afraid to make the first room. it felt surreal to all be together again. you were afraid your longing to see them again had reached a point of insanity, and they were afraid of spooking you if they got too close too quickly.

megumi was the first one to make a move, stepping around the rows of seats and the centre coffee table till he stood a metre from you. “hi.”

your hand covered your mouth as you had to tilt your head up slightly to keep eye contact with the boy you’d raised since he was only a fraction of your height. you may not have changed but megumi had – both his height and voice – and the guilt of leaving him behind was overwhelming.

“oh my god, you’re so much taller than me.” you moved closer to him to gently grab ahold of his arms as you took in how much he had grown. there wasn’t a day that had gone by that you didn’t regret and feel guilt for leaving megumi and you only hoped he understood why you left him so suddenly. taking a step back, you gestured to his uniform, “what’s jujutsu high like?”

the words were bittersweet. what had leaving achieved apart from heartache? megumi was still a jujutsu student and gojo was still japan’s lifeline. maybe you would live a longer life in america, but was the life you had now worth the one you’d left behind?

“it’s…” megumi hesitated before clearing his throat, “it’s okay. there’s two other first years, yuuji and nobara. they’re alright.” you smiled at his words, flashbacks of your own childhood crossing your mind as you remembered the innocence of your first year. it was fun being in a class with two prodigies, you were mini celebrities in a world of rich and powerful sorcerers.

“i’m glad you’ve made some friends, megs,” the nickname rolled off your tongue too naturally and if megumi closed his eyes, maybe he could pretend that you were all still in japan and you were just catching up after being away on a prolonged mission. you glanced to the other sorcerer in the room who had remained silent up until this point – although he had silently made his way over. “i’m going to go speak with satoru in my office and then can i take you out for dinner? to talk properly?”

megumi nodded a little too eagerly, “yeah, please. i’ll just wait here.”

“perfect. satoru?” the acknowledgement was all the strongest sorcerer needed to be following behind you, keeping a distance of several paces as you led him inside your office.

gojo rested his forearm against one of the large ceiling height windows in your office that overlooked the city. you had to be at least twenty stories up and the blaring of car horns was simply a hum, vehicles appearing as mini red and yellow dots on the busy roads below.

“nice view.”

it was the first words he’d uttered in your presence and despite him being the one to initiate the venture to you, he had no idea what to say. this was likely his only chance to convince you to come back and he may have already screwed up by waiting as long as he had.

“what are you doing here?” you asked as you pushed your door shut, leaving the two of you in the privacy of your small office. it was nothing special; a chair, a desk with paperwork piling up and no photos whatsoever. there was no trace that you even existed beyond these four walls.

“don’t i at least get an ‘i miss you’? i just travelled over ten hours for you,” he said lightly, trying to ease the tension in the room but your voice was no longer as soft as it was when you spoke with megumi. the teenager had done nothing wrong – he was part of the reason you left.

“it’s been two years.” he didn’t have to turn around to know that your arms were probably crossed in front of your chest, your head tilted to the side as you waited for him to explain himself. except he thinks his past offences of stealing all of the sweets before halloween were a little more forgivable than letting you leave.

his hand turned to a fist as he dropped it from the window, turning around to look at you properly. “i know.”

both of you stared at one another, neither of you speaking as you took the other in.

“you chose them over me,” you accused. them being both the higher-ups and the whole of jujutsu itself. you’d given him a chance to have a normal life – a natural life in which you’d grow old together and die of old age – and he’d chosen the short life where he’d likely die before he turned thirty.

“you knew what you were signing up for,” he said and there was no malice behind the words though they still frustrated you. he was right to an extent, he’d sat you down after you’d finished school, just before he’d taken in megumi and given you an out. you chose to stay, fully believing that the two of you had already gone through your worst.

“i didn’t realise i’d always be on the losing side.”

“we weren’t always losing–”

you stepped closer to gojo as you held out your hand, counting each disaster after the other with your fingers, “haibara died, we almost died, geto defected, we took in megumi and the tensions between your clan and the zen’ins got ten times worse. you said you wanted to change jujutsu society and what had we done? i never knew if you’d come home to me after missions, it made me feel sick.”

“how do you think i felt coming home to a note?” you could count on your hands the amount of times you had seen gojo angry – and while he wasn’t all the way there he was teetering on the edge as he frustratedly lifted off his blindfold, throwing it onto your desk. in the same way you’d been desperate for him to hear what you were saying before you’d left, he was equally as desperate for you to hear him now. to see that he was here. “megumi? at least geto left for a purpose, you just left.”

it was an unfair dig – geto had committed mass murder, after all – but similar to the one that you’d pulled on him two years ago.

you clicked your tongue as you tried not to make it obvious how badly that made you want to cry, holding your hands up in surrender. “was it so wrong to want a life where i didn’t go to work thinking i would die? to want a future?”

“you were my future.” he sounded sad as he uttered them, and it looked foreign to see the gojo satoru look so dejected. there were only inches between the two of you now and despite the fact he towered over you, he appeared so small as he continued, “was i ever yours?”

memories of your late teenage years and early adulthood play out as a montage: from your first meeting when you’d both gotten lost on the train to school, to the tears you spilled as you finished writing your note and closed the door to his apartment for the last time.

“of course you were.” your voice was shaky, no longer holding any bite. until the day you’d left, since you were sixteen, you’d never envisioned a life without him.

gojo’s hand reached out to push your hair back from your neck, the little white scars still tarnishing your flawless skin. it was taking all of your resolve to not collapse into his arms and have him hold you like you knew he would. you were sure you’d believe him this time if he told you he could protect everyone, that he was in fact able to be in six places at once and still come out on top. “come back with us please.”

“satoru…” you dragged off, looking away as you fought between listening to your rationale that reminded you that nothing had really changed and your heart that missed being in love.

“just come back,” he repeated, “are you going to tell me you’ve found someone else? that you enjoy your life here?” it was wrong and selfish, he knew it, to be convincing you the way he was – to even be here full stop – but he missed you and he wasn’t ready to let you walk away again.

“i can’t lose you.” hesitantly you pressed your hands to his chest. for a second he was scared you were going to push him away, but you didn’t, fingers tightening around the material of his uniform.

“don’t be silly and travel halfway across the country then.” his voice was just above a whisper now as he brushed his nose against yours. “hey, look at me properly.”

you complied without any hesitation – you always did when it came to him. two years of no contact but your body still reacted on muscle memory to the sound of his voice. never in your life had you ever seen eyes like his, of course you hadn’t, and you were still taken aback by the full blue colour as he gazed down at you.

“tell me you don’t want me to kiss you.” you did want him to. “tell me you want me to walk out of this room and not turn back and i’ll do it.” he wouldn’t have left without you.

“i missed you,” you whispered, and that was all he needed to duck his head down to let your lips meet. gojo’s hand slipped round to the back of your neck, tugging you impossibly closer as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip. you missed this, you missed him, and you were going to find it impossible to let go of him again.

only when your lungs ached to breathe did you force yourself to pull back from your ex boyfriend. gojo’s eyes were still focused on your lips and you didn’t doubt that if it were up to him, he’d be leaning to kiss you again. it was only the light push against his chest that held him back.

“what are we doing?” you asked, voice wavering from both the kiss and nerves. whilst there was no doubt in your mind that gojo was who you wanted, you had many reservations about reentering jujutsu society.

“about to ditch this place and go back to japan on a plane. all three of us.”

you brows furrowed together, “but–”

gojo held a finger up your lips, his other hand slipping into his back pocket, pulling out three plane tickets. “i already got your ticket, you don’t want it to go to waste do you?”

you lightly hit his arm and smiled up at him. he was grinning now and it didn’t need to be said aloud – he was yours again (though he’d never really stopped being such) and you were coming home. “that confident?”

“surprised you were able to resist me this long.” he pecked your cheek this time, a hint of tease in his tone like he hadn’t needed megumi to convince him to even enter your office building in the first place.

you let his joke slide with no rebuttal. “are you coming to dinner?” you hoped you hadn’t been keeping megumi too long.

“do you want me at dinner?” gojo asked.

you reached across to your desk to grab ahold of his blindfold and passed it to him. as much as you loved being able to see his eyes, you’d rather not be spending your first twenty four hours with him in bed complaining about a splitting headache. “i’m sure megs won’t mind. plus you can pay,” you added with a wink.

gojo raised an eyebrow, lips tugging up at the corners into a slight smirk, “oh so that’s the real reason why you missed me?”

taglist. @thefictionalcharacterssimp @hana-patata @mor-pheus @leathairs @sh0ek0 @maliakealoha @levisteeacup @g-kleran @stevenknightmarc @n1kimura @darliingyu @saturn-alone @splxtscreen @leah-rose03 @rinshoe @laurenzitaa @patricia142lilian @sabo-has-my-heart @wooasecret @dahliawarner @kysrion @dreamerdeity @mwah-chia @geromiegerald @arminsarlerts @maliakealoha @cherrypieyourface @k4romis @monsieurgucchi @bofadeezs @777userz @polarbvnny @chonkercatto @tenshis-cake @haitanibros0007 @ba-ks @liaurokodaki @urfavvirg0 @lofasofabread @r0ckst4rjk @vee-ai @aiikuraa @melileli0001 @rinshoe @vinivave @yell0wdreams @sukunasleftkneecap @malikazz243 @sad-darksoul @giannitaa @maliciousmace @name-insert @splxtscreen @kimvmarvel @ieathairs @janbannan @ja-zz @vangoes @starringz @ciscob1tes @theoriginaluzisimp @thirtykiwis @vivienne2000 @whydohumansss @purpleguk @simeon-lovergirl @missesgojosatoru @loveroftheoldestdream @mkaiiserr kazbrkker ancientimes thefirst-ofus animechick555 saccharinelixir seunnimg kookonsale

super sorry if ive missed anyone!

#snapshot !#gojo #gojo satoru #satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x yn #gojo series #gojo fic #jjk #gojo fluff #gojo drabbles #gojo imagines

965 notes · View notes

teenytinyjimin · 8 months ago

Text

i miss you, i’m sorry (j. jungkook)

nothing happened in the way i wanted

every corner of this house is haunted

and i know you said that we’re not talking

but i miss you, i’m sorry.

summary: the first time seeing each other after the breakup is always the hardest. but seeing each other when you're still in love? an absolute nightmare

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2k

tags: angst, smoker!jk, brokenhearted!jk, equally as brokenhearted!reader, why did they even break up in the first place?, featuring reader’s bestfriend!jimin, also jimin is sexually ambiguous let's keep it that way please

warnings: none, alcohol/nic use but nothing too intense, kinda sad but it's a happy ending i promise

author’s note: idk why i keep making my fic names and stuff inspired by songs, i guess it just helps me beat writers block.

also i wrote this in second person, lmk if you guys prefer that over third. i personally find third person fics easier to write, but i'm sure second person is easier to read for some of you. enjoy my angels!

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

Bars weren't really your thing.

If you were going to be honest, they were miles better than nightclubs, but still not your thing. It was something about the air that just rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps it was all the creepy old men that turned you off of them, or just the fact that there's not much to do besides sit, drink, sit some more, maybe play some pool and... sit.

Jimin, on the other hand, loved bars. He loved being able to sit there, look pretty, and watch as absolutely anyone and everyone flocked over to him to start a conversation. It admittedly fueled his ego, and he loved the feeling of being the center of attention. However, he didn't love being at bars alone. Being so drop-dead gorgeous meant that about twenty times the amount of creeps bothered him than the average bar patron. Many of them figured that a pretty boy like him was sitting there waiting to be swooped up by a sugar daddy. Let's get one thing straight – that wasn't him. He had plenty of money. He just wanted to have a little conversation, give a little kiss here and there maybe, and dip at the end of the night with his bar companion by his side.

Unfortunately for you, that bar companion was usually you. It was certainly a compliment for Jimin to want to bring you along with him instead of any of his other gazillions of friends and other social connections, but it was quite exhausting for you to be in a bar pretty much every day of every weekend. He liked the attention, but you didn't. If it were an empty room with nothing but you and a bottle of rum, you'd have a blast. But what bar in Itaewon was going to be like that?

Alas, here you were, sat at the end of a bar with your friend sitting next to you. Something about the light in the building made him look extra beautiful tonight, his skin shimmering like the most precious of diamonds and his eyes deep and full of allure. At the moment he was making small talk with a lady on the other side of him, one who was definitely at least twenty years his senior but didn't look a day past thirty. Sighing, you drop your head down to look at your drink, a half-full martini glass that held a rather disappointing cosmopolitan (you weren't a vodka fan anyway, it wasn't the bartender's fault).

You wanted to be home. That was the only place you ever wanted to be these days. At home, cuddling your darling kitty in bed, and sleeping your days away. Maybe a year ago you would have loved being out and about, but now it feels more like a burden than a fun activity. And you know that Jimin doesn't mean any harm in doing what he does, but seeing him talk with so many people over the course of the night and being so happy is almost a bit gut-wrenching for you because you can't be as happy as him.

You began to feel the blood rush to your ears and your face get warm. Something was wrong, you could sense it. Everyone has those gut instincts when something isn't quite right, and this wasn't just an instinct, it was like a neon sign. A neon sign that read DANGER. Perhaps it was just you feeling rather anxious and overwhelmed, but either way you were craving the comfort of your home.

"Hey, 'Minnie, can we-" Just as you turned to Jimin to softly ask him if you could go home or at the very least switch bars, you felt a presence behind you. It wasn't just an I'm here to order a drink presence, but rather an I'm here for you one. Realizing that Jimin wasn't even listening anyway, you froze, waiting to see what would happen. And that's when you heard a familiar voice that you thought you'd never hear again.

"Hey."

You didn't want to turn around. You tried to stay as still as a statuette for as long as possible, however the more you thought about the man behind you the more you felt the urge to turn around and take a bite of the forbidden fruit. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turned until you were face-to-face with your ex, Jungkook.

"Want to talk outside?" Not yet looking at him directly, you hesitantly nodded before quickly looking back to Jimin and then standing up. You left your purse there, figuring that your friend would grab it if he changed locations, and began trailing after the tall tattooed figure that navigated his way toward the door.

As the two of you stepped out into the cool autumn air, you crossed your arms and leaned against the building. Your heart was between your ears at this point, buzzing at what felt like 200 beats a minute. It was stupid for you to have even left Jimin's side, you thought, because now you were alone with your ex of all people and God knows what this boy has up his sleeve.

"You look good," Jungkook said gently as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips. "And I know what you're going to say, you're so full of it Kook, but I mean it."

"Since when have you started smoking?" You asked, ignoring his previous two statements and gesturing toward the pack in his hand. He shrugged. "Couple weeks after I last saw you maybe? Not a big deal."

"You know that stuff's bad for you."

"I don't think sitting here third-wheeling with Jimin and his beau of the night is any better."

"You don't know Jimin, don't act like you do," You said, completely taken aback and offended by the words coming out of his mouth. "And I'm having a good time, thank you very much."

"Doesn't seem like it. Weren't you about to ask him if you guys could leave?"

"I was having- What?- Is there a reason you asked to talk to me out here?" You were struggling to form a complete sentence. This man always knew how to leave you speechless, but now it was just irritating. You watched as Jungkook leaned back onto the building with you and shook his head, giving you a toothy grin before lighting the cigarette in his mouth. "Nah. Just figured you'd have more fun out here talking to me and getting a break from it all."

"You know he's waiting for me, right? I should go back inside." You stand back up straight and begin walking back into the bar, however you feel a warm hand wrap gently around your wrist and tug you back. "Hey hey hey," Jungkook called. "He'll survive a few minutes without you. Just chill with me. I'm not asking you for anything, just a second of your time."

You turned to face your ex-lover, your eyes finally meeting his for the first time that night. Even after all this time of being apart, those beautiful doe eyes still yearned for you, and yours for him. With a shaky sigh, you brush his hand away and return to where you were standing. "Exes don't hang out like this, Jungkook."

"Woah, you're pulling out the full government name on me now?" The boy teased, puffing a cloud of smoke from his mouth. "Should I be offended?"

"I'm setting boundaries," You crossed your arms and kicked at the ground beneath you. "Nicknames are for friends or more than friends, which we aren't."

"We aren't strangers either though."

"That doesn't matter. Not friends."

"Alright, fine," Giving up, Jungkook looked down at his hand and flexed it awkwardly. "Just trying to be friendly."

"Friendly?!" You said frantically, finally having enough of his antics. "You don't need to be friendly. We broke up and that's the end of it. Exes aren't friends. They go their separate ways and when they see each other again – if they see each other – they ignore each other. I don't get why you're doing this psychological warfare bullshit on me."

"Exes can be friends," He breathed out in protest. "Can you even tell me why we broke up in the first place?"

You remained silent. The truth was that you didn't know why you broke up either. It had been almost a year since the whole ordeal went down, and you were still confused more than anything else, even more than you were hurt. All you can remember is that you guys went through some bullshit ‘mutual breakup’ that apparently neither of you wanted in the first place. The only reason you even agreed to it is because somewhere within you, you felt like perhaps you weren’t deserving of such a wonderful relationship. And the only reason Jungkook agreed to it is because he thought that it’s what you wanted.

"No, seriously. What went wrong? What did I do? I just want some closure..." His voice became increasingly softer as he kept speaking, which only meant one thing. You stared at the ground intensely, refusing to look up and see his teary eyes.

You felt his hand gently wrap around yours and tug on it as a plea for your attention. Jungkook was your weakness, the only person you'd willingly do anything for, and he really loved to take advantage of that without even realizing he was.

You peered up at him hesitantly, worried that you'd find yourself in tears the second you saw the ones pouring from his eyes. Sure enough, when the eye contact began, you were driving yourself forward into his strong arms and dampening his shirt with your tears.

Jungkook's embrace felt the same as it did the last time you felt it. It was still so warm, so inviting, so loving. Never once did you feel unsafe in his arms and this moment was not an exception. As you sobbed into his shirt you felt his hand move from around your waist to the top of your head, stroking your hair gently.

The two of you stood there for what seemed like hours, simply letting all emotion out while enjoying the company of one another. While Jungkook has been exceptionally transparent in expressing the fact that he's heartbroken about the situation between the two of you, it's safe to say that you feel equally as devastated. This man was once the love of your life and the only one you ever needed, but now everything about him except for his embrace feels foreign. This was someone you once saw yourself building a life with, but now it's shattering to think that he has a life after you.

You pulled away after a while, refusing to make eye contact as you wiped the tears from your eyes. This all felt entirely pointless. It was obvious that nothing went wrong in the relationship yet here you were, no longer in one. You couldn't begin to imagine what Jungkook had been going through since you guys broke up considering the fact that for you, your entire world turned upside down.

"I'm sorry," You managed to choke out before you felt Jungkook's hand gently guide your face up to look at his. You watched him stare at you for a moment, taking in your features, before his lips began to curl into a soft smile. "Mmm. Yeah. You're way too pretty to let slip through my fingers."

Feeling your face turn hot as a blush crept to your cheeks, you let out a soft giggle before you were cut off by a familiar pair of lips meeting yours.

"JUNGKOOK?" You heard a voice call out. The two of you pulled apart, eyes wide. Shit. You forgot about Jimin.

#teenytinyjimin #bangtan #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fanfiction #bts fic #angst #bts jungkook #bts jk #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook angst #jk angst #jungkook x reader #jk x reader #fanfic #jk fanfic

883 notes · View notes

tsumey · 13 days ago

Text

fem. reader, not proofread, 815 words

miya atsumu has a problem.

well, multiple problems. but all his problems boil down to the teacher’s assistant in his physiology class.

it was annoying how she’d always hold him back after lectures to remind him of his deadlines, how she’s always up his ass about his test scores, and how she’d never fail to mention tutoring for him.

he doesn't need a tutor, his grades are average! and besides, he didn’t get a scholarship to be a star student, he was asked to be there to play volleyball, dammit.

his friends tease him about his academic performance, which further annoys him because again, he is not failing! he’s only missed like….five deadlines..but he still managed to submit them after a week!

he doubts he’s the only one falling behind in class, so why does that damn ta always single him out?

“i don’t know why you’re complainin’ so much ‘bout her. it sounds like you’re her problem more than anything.” atsumu pouts at this, his stupid brother doesn’t know anything.

“you don't understand. she definitely has it out for me. i don’t remember doin’ anything to her but she definitely has a grudge against me.”

sunarin chimes in, “y/n? sweet little y/n? grudge isn’t in her vocabulary, you’re just stupid.”

“and how would you know? you friends with her or somethin’?” atsumu rolls his eyes at his friend. god, even when she wasn't around, she still manages to put a sneer on his face.

“nah, we’re just cool like that. we were in a group project for biochem.”

“let me guess, she was all strict n uptight about your part.” he has a smirk on his face, confident that y/n was as bad to suna as she was with him.

“easiest person to work on a project with.” suna counters atsumu’s smug look with his own.

atsumu reacts to this by groaning loudly and frustratedly pulling his hair while osamu and suna snicker.

“remember, midterms are next week!” the professor’s reminder gets drowned by the noise of students’ chatter as they go bustling out of the lecture hall. atsumu scurries out with the rest, already dreading the coming week. his eyes narrow as he nears the exit, spotting his biggest headache by the doors, seemingly waiting for him.

he lets out a loud sigh when he hears you call out his name before he could even try to blend in with the other students. he quickly wipes off his irked expression and mustered up a polite smile.

“hey atsumu, sorry for holding you up again. i just wanted to talk to you about something.” you gave him a smile that looked sweet, and he wasn’t used to sweet.

atsumu raises a brow at this. now why in the world are you smiling like that when you’re probably just going to scold him again for his missing work?

“what did you want to ask?” he couldn’t help but feel a bit apprehensive, this was certainly not how he expected you to greet him, all smiley and upbeat, a stark contrast to your usual serious attitude towards him.

“so as you know, midterms are coming up,” atsumu internally sighs and braces himself for the usual words that were going to come out of your lips, “and i was wondering if you’d like to study together.”

now this. this is definitely not what he was expecting at all. his brows shot up at what he heard, “you mean you wanna tutor me?”

“no, not like that!” you chuckled, “just studying, but like, with the two of us.” you awkwardly explained.

is she asking me out on a date? a study date? is what atsumu thought, because his mind was so boggled that you, the annoying ta, was asking him, miya atsumu, if he wanted to study for midterms together.

“uh yer askin’ me?” his accent accidentally slips out, a telltale sign of just how puzzled he was. “i mean, yer askin’ me ‘cuz of my shit grades, right?”

your smile gets wider, perhaps too wide, but atsumu’s not surprised any more so than he already was. he watches as you erupt into a fit of giggles at his question. it’s cute, he thinks. you’re cute, when you’re not bugging him about school. he could finally see your charm, now that he actually looked at you with his mind quiet of disgruntled thoughts of you.

“no no, you’re actually doing very well recently. i know we have some classes together so i just, y’know, thought i’d ask.” atsumu sees your wide smile ease into a more bashful one. just when he thought you couldn’t get prettier. you really are full of surprises, and atsumu is so pleasantly surprised.

atsumu releases an amused breath and flashes you his famous grin, “sure, i’d like that.”

“meet me in the library later?”

“great, its a study date.”

#haikyuu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #miya atsumu fluff #haikyuu college au #hq x reader #haikyuu miya atsumu #hq miya atsumu #x reader #miya osamu #suna rintarou #✒️.miya atsumu #✒️.oneshot

220 notes · View notes

petriwriting · 23 days ago

Text

Bad Boyfriends - Theodore Nott X Reader

Summary: your boyfriend treats you terribly and Theodore comforts you when you finally break up. Then you realize you love him.

A/N: based on a tiktok meme I saw. Reader is a slytherin. Once again proofreading is for the weak and I wrote this on like no sleep. Contains Cheating & Protective Theo. Friends to lovers. Rupi Kaur poetry.

Your boyfriend, Silas was the stereotypical gryffindor guy. He had decent grades, was relatively social, popular. He played quidditch too. From afar the relationship was the perfect ‘enemies to lovers’ trope. You were a slytherin, and he was a gryffindor but despite being in different houses you were in love, or so it seemed to the average person. it was picturesque.

The halls flooded with students preparing for the weekend, some housemates of yours had invited you to a slytherin after party that would undoubedtly take place after your house won the quidditch game that evening. You had a killer winning streak, and tonight slytherin was playing against gryffindor. Silas wasn’t too excited for you to go, so he said you could come to the gryffindor after party instead, which would be “wayyy more fun” he had said. You were torn, but also tired. Silas grabbed your arm out of the busy hall, and pulled you into a slightly more private hall in the corridors. “Heyy,” he cooed. “Excited for my game tonight?” He said in a cocky tone. “We’ll definitely kick slytherin’s ass tonight I can feel it,” he exclaims. You sigh. “Well slytherin has a winning streak right now, so maybe not.” You say jokingly, you truthfully didn’t care who won, you just wanted to relax at a party with your friends afterwards. “Don’t say that.” His tone is blatant, rude. “I want you to wear my jersey tonight as always.” He winked, grabbing your hand and brushing his thumb over it in attempts to be affectionate. “I was going to wear gear from my house.” You uttered.

There is a slight pause, and Silas looks angry, part of you is genuinely scared. but you know that he won’t do anything too drastic if you’re both in public. You silently thank Merlin that the hallway has some students shuffling through every now and then. Not that Silas would get physical, or hurt you. “Absolutely not.” He says flatly. “You can’t control what I wear,” you retort getting frustrated at his attitude. “Come on you can’t support me this once? After all I do for you?” He pleads. ‘After all I do for you’ refers to holding doors open for you, pulling out your chair, giving you compliments, and holding your hand in public. All which are things that are in fact the bare minimum. You exhale loudly. “I’m not doing this with you right now.” You say quietly, retreating somewhat.

“Come on, you hang out with lowlife bratty snobby kids who think they are way better than everyone else. Didn’t think it would rub off on you this much.” He snaps back. You’re angered, hurt and ready to spill tears but you hold your composure. “Silas I’m not doing this!” You repeat yourself, more stern despite the break in your voice. “Why can’t you just do what I ask?” He mumbles. “There’s girls lining up to be with me but I chose to be with you instead and you always treat me like I’m some bad guy whose out to get you.” He exclaims. His narcism is shining bright at you.

“Silas I’m unhappy.” You uttered, somewhat scared of the consequences. “Really?” He says, in a condescending tone. “Shocker.” He rolls his eyes. “Did your bitchy friends put that idea In your head?” He snapped again. He’s projecting, and it hurts. You did love him at first, but with the arguements of recently, and his attitude being less and less loving and caring you knew something was up. There was even a rumor that he had been seen getting more than friendly with a ravenclaw girl. Everything just bubbled up in that moment. You had stayed because the relationship looked good but now it was doing nothing but hurting you and you were starting to realize it. All the lake night talks, dates at hogsmeade, passing notes in class, it all suddenly meant nothing. Tears welled in your eyes, you wanted to shake him.

“No they didn’t, and my friends are loyal and look out for each other.” You stated through the tears, anger seeping out. “Unlike yours who blow shit up for fun and barely pass their classes.” You snapped back. “We’re done.” You said, the words came out sharp and cold. “Figures as much.” Silas retorted before storming off. He muttered something about you being an evil snake on his way off.

You stood there for a moment, tears falling from your cheeks your face was red and you were exasperated. Your instinct was to rush back to your room, taking the long way to the dungeons to avoid being seen. You walked fast. Faster. Rushing through the castle. You rushed right past your friends who greeted you, and went to your dorm to cry alone. The door heavily shut.

. . . . . . . .

Later that evening, your friends had convinced you to go to the quidditch game that evening, and as suspected slytherin won with a pretty high lead. You were decked out in your slytherin gear, showing your house pride with your face painted. Deep down you were hurting and upset, but you didn’t let anyone see it. The game was cold, as you stood on the stands cheering and clapping. Your scarf was wrapped around your neck tightly, and you wore a bulky sweater over top a quidditch jersey.

Soon enough the after party rolled around. It felt great to not have Silas dragging you down…

By the time you arrive to the party in the common room it is already starting to become full of students who drink and smoke and laugh. The music is loud, some trendy band everyone’s been listening to with a catchy beat and carefree lyrics. Alcohol won’t make you feel better but at least you are with friends. While Blaise and Draco are off dancing with pansy and Astoria. Eventually the chatter and music is becoming loud so you venture to the corridor just beyond common room for some clarity. You wanted to cry again but you promised yourself you would be okay just for a little while longer.

Outside the common room, you follow the scent of smoke and are quickly lead to Mattheo and Theodore. Theodore has a cigarette lit, he’s been drinking and so has Mattheo. Mattheo was in the middle of explaining some grandiose plan he had to impress a transfer student, while entertaining his friend Theodore, who intently listened. He had always had a dark demeanor, quiet but thoughtful. The two were in your friend group but you certainly weren’t close. You knew Mattheo liked to party and was quite rebellious and that Theodore and yourself shared a potions class together. They both nodded and acknowledged your presence. You awkwardly stood, not wanting to be rude but not wanting to seem desperate either. “Y/N, I could hear you cheering us on from the stands.” Mattheo exclaims. You lean against the wall next to Theodore. “Yeah I’ve been excited for the game all week,” you admit. Theodore was very reserved, he offered you a cigarette, which you accepted. You didn’t typically smoke, though you had before. You took a few long drags and thanked him. “No problem.” He said with a smirk. “Mattie!” Someone called. It was a slightly drunken girl. “If you’ll excuse me…” Mattheo ran off after her. He always liked his mischievous antics.

“So,” Theodore began. “How are you holding up?” He asked. You sighed. Did he know? Did everyone know already? You tried to be discrete and keep it private, but words travel fast. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you knew.” You said, hugging yourself in the chilly air. “Well I don’t, but whatever it was I saw you were pretty upset about it.” He states, referring to the moment he saw you rush past everyone playing cards in the common room to your dorm earlier in the day. Theodore had always been the quiet observer, he saw things but didn’t speak much in comparison to his friends. He was still relatively social despite his mysterious demeanor. For the past year and a half, you always saw Theodore as a friend, but never relied on him much except for notes from class and gossip on occasion. You’d spoken with him a few times here and there. It wasn’t a huge issue that he knew you were dating Silas, the school always clung to the gossip and paid attention to the it couples. Especially Pansy and Draco who were both influential. You had been so wrapped up in trying to maintain your relationship with your now ex boyfriend that you hadn’t seen the signs of Theodore pining over you. He doodled you in class, and always romanticized the thought of asking you out despite never doing so out of circumstance. By the time he had decided to act on his feelings for you, you were together with your ex. So it felt pointless. Nonetheless he still cared for you quite immensely.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” you say slightly embarrassed. “I was um..” you stop yourself. “Silas and I broke up. It’s been a rough day.” You admit looking at the ground. “Sorry to hear that.” He says, taking another long drag of his cigarette before putting it out. “It’s okay.” You say. It’s quiet, almost too quiet. The chatter is very muffled and the music is faint from the common room. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asks. You sigh, and think for a moment. You want to say no and forget about this whole thing and move on, but you also know how good it will feel to get it out, and since Theo was the first person to ask you gave in to his offer. “I just,” you began quietly. “I heard a rumor that he was seeing someone else.” You admitted with a shrug. “And at first I didn’t want to believe it until I saw them in the library one day, this was maybe 2 weeks ago. They weren’t just studying but flirting. I was in denial about it, and today I just finally snapped and broke it off.” You continue. “I loved him but it wasn’t worth staying with someone who won’t treat me the way I deserve to be treated, someone who cheats and lies and hurts me over and over again without a care. Someone that genuinely made me so insecure and sad.” You finalized, sternly wiping your tears. As if convincing yourself the words were true the tears welled up in your eyes again as the wound re-opened. “I don’t want to ruin your night it seems like you were having fun.” You say as your voice softens.

Theodore has now turned towards you with his hands in his pockets. “No no,” Theodore reassures. “My night is definitely not ruined.” He states. “I enjoy hearing you talk. We don’t get to do that very often.” He confesses slightly. He’s right. You barely speak, but his presence and his shoulder to cry on is appreciated and you sniffle and wipe your face. “I’m glad to hear you open up.” He replies.

You sigh and shake away some anxiety from your body. “Thank you for listening to me.” You say. “It means a lot.” “Anytime.” He says quietly. “You deserve to spend your time with people who respect your feelings and your thoughts and time, not someone who hurts you that much.” Theodore says. He’s nervous now, he wants to tell you he’s been looking out for you since you first met and that he’s only just come to the realization that he might be in love with you, but he’s silent in that regard. “It’s good to talk about things sometimes,” he says. You were not prepared for him to be vulnerable with you in reciprocation. “When my mom passed,” he says tenderly. “I didn’t talk for 3 years. I was nearly mute. And when I finally told someone how I felt, it felt so good. Amazing. I know it’s not the same as what you’re going through at all, but hey, we’re here for you.” He says kindly. We, as on his friend group. Your friend group too. You want to turn to thank him, right the but instead you don’t. You wrap your arms around him tightly. It feels strange to do so at first but then you both melt into each others embrace. It’s a sweet moment. “Thanks.” You whisper.

. . . . . . . .

The next few months are spent blissfully happy in your new found singleness. Although it can be lonely you have amazing friends to support you through. And since that evening you had grown much closer to Theodore. He sort of becomes one of your best friends. You had pulled away from that friend group for obvious reasons, although it felt good to have your old life back finally. You could be yourself without judgement. You hadn’t seen Silas nearly at all, avoiding his usual hangout spots and ignoring his buddies in the halls. You were finally over him. The cold air was harsh, and a light dust of snow covered the ground outside the castle and soon enough everything around. You found comfort in the quiet of the common room, and warmth by the fire place. A book was in your lap, a lovely poetry novel. You wore a heavy sweater, and cozy socks as you were curled up reading on the couch by your friend. Theodore had become the perfect person to be around. He had a quiet understanding of your pain, and he shared his own with you and opened himself up which you thought was special. Not even the other slytherins had known about some of the things the two of you talked about. He’s sat beside you on the couch, silently doodling in his notebook between the pages of notes. You yawned, and leaned closer to Theodore. “This one reminds me of you.” You said softly before resting your head on his shoulder to read, it was an affectionate gesture that made your heart race.

The world

gives you

so much pain

and here you are

making gold out of it.

As you read aloud the words come out like milk and honey. “That’s pretty,” Theo says quietly. “I like that.” He admitted. Your head stayed on his shoulder and eventually he had snaked an arm around you. You were both sleepy, as it was getting relatively late. The crackle of the fireplace was just soo soothing. “Thank you.” You said quietly, tempting sleep to take you. “For what?” Theodore asks. “Being here for me.” You explain. “It feels nice to have someone who understands me as much as you.” He smiles softly, you couldn’t see his face flush slightly. He hesitates and says this a bit too late, thinking you’d fallen fast asleep, since you chest rise and fell softly and you had let your book relax in your hand. And sighs a bit, “I love you.” He uttered softly, without a response, you were nearly asleep. It wasn’t long before sleep griped the both of you.

The next morning, you’re met with Mattheo smiling in your faces. “Well then good morning love birds.” He chuckled. “Did you sleep well?” He mused. It’s early enough not everyone is awake yet, aside from Mattheo. You were surprised to not see Draco or Blaise wandering about yet, as the common room was still mostly empty. You yawned and stretched. You had been cuddled up to Theo and when you realized you blushed a bit unconsciously. “Breakfast will start soon if you’d like to accompany me.” Mattheo says. “Yeah, sure.” Theodore says rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “We’ll meet you there, yeah?” He says. Matt nods and wanders off. The two of you share one extra moment practically in an embrace on the couch before you lean in closely and utter a whisper that changed the boys world forever. “I love you too.”

#reader insert #x reader #hp x reader #my writing #hp #slytherin x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott #harry potter

163 notes · View notes

on-leatheredwings · 8 months ago

Text

Intro Post: PARIS ♡ the femboy! yandere (pinboard) tw: dark themes, somno mention

Written Content: (coming soon)

Intensity: 4/10. MILD. As a yandere at all, he is of course enamored with you. He gets easily riled about you, but unlikely to injure, heavily drug, or be violent with you. He would get violent with others if needed, but prefers to publicly humiliate his rivals. His obsession mainly presents through excessive quality time, manipulation and mildly assaulting you in your sleep. Age: mid or late 20s. He's a Libra. Gender: Cisgender male. Pronouns are he/him, though he will answer to she/her (and later correct that individual). He enjoys when you call him princess, though. And only you. Sexuality: There's a lot of speculation on the internet, but he seems to prefer women. Occupation: Paris is an American Olympic-level figure skater, and will likely retire after the next Olympic Games. He's not quite an internet personality, but his online popularity gets him a lot of brand deals.

General appearance: Paris is of Russian descent. He is relatively pale, with straight, mousy brown hair that reaches just above the waist. His eyes are brown. His lips are small, heart shaped and usually glossed. He is lean, but due to his sport, he does have a level of muscle tone greater than the average person. Paris is 180 centimeters tall (~5’10) with model-like proportions. His ears are pierced. Fashion sense: See board. Fond of hyper-feminine clothing, Paris’s wardrobe is an eclectic blend of coquette, gyaru, and figure skater fashion. Often wears pink, white, pastel blue or black. His clothes aren’t very revealing – he is quite fond of layering shirts and cardigans. He actually doesn’t wear skirts that often, opting more often for leggings. Paris wears false lashes often, and wears light, feminine makeup. Paris does wear masculine clothing, though only when he isn’t expecting to be photographed or seen in public. As a male figure skater, on the rink, he is expected to ‘tone it down’ with the makeup and keep his hair tied back. During competitions and photoshoots, he presents more masculine, though still quite androgynous. His skating outfits possess a feminine flair.

Personality: Paris is fun-loving, boisterous, and goes through life like nothing phases him. (A facade, to be sure.) Paris strikes others as easy-going and snarky, but is pretty observant and manipulative. He definitely plays into his 'feminine wiles' schtick to get what he wants. However friendly he appears, Paris doesn't tolerate disrespect, and enjoys fighting fire with fire. He definitely enjoys humiliating people who cross him, and especially when they cross you. Paris is no stranger to off-color and lewd jokes, but would stop if you disapproved. Paris is notably much sweeter when talking to you. Romantically, Paris had a bit of a rotating door until you caught his eye. Within celebrity circles, he's kind of regarded as a player. He wasn't unkind to women... he just moved on fast, often bored. Which is something that does not seem to be happening with you. ♡

Bonus: Paris is really popular online! He's witty and pretty tuned into current social media trends. He's streamed on Twitch multiple times just for fun, and is always bombarded with gifts. None of his fans' love matters as much as you do, though. He appeals to younger, queer people especially.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere fic #femboy yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #mine #pariscore #intro post #theres actually so much more to say but lets keep it short here #his past. his need for found family. dear god #please look at the pinterest board i tried very hard

397 notes · View notes

kissatoru · 1 year ago

Text

𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔

content · NSFW MDNI, college au, dom/sub dynamics, bratty sub!eren, mean to soft dom!reader, gn!reader, dry humping, humiliation, nipple play, degradation, praise, edging, handjob, blowjob

wc · ~6.8k

notes · couldn’t help making it soft at the end! i’ve reread this so many times i genuinely have no idea if it’s good but i hope you enjoyed it<3

House parties aren’t really your thing. You’ve been to a few but you quickly discovered that they involve a lot more vomit and interpersonal drama than you have the tolerance for, so you tend to avoid them. You would’ve turned down the invitation for this one too, if it wasn’t for the fact that it was Eren Jaeger who offered it up to you. That’s why you’re here, at the house of someone who’s a friend of a friend’s friend, at sometime past midnight.

You’re leaning against the wall, sipping on a half-empty can of pop, when you finally spot Eren, making his way over to you with a grin much too wide for someone who’s late to a party he invited you to. He looks good, dressed in a white tank top that brings out the musculature of his arms and black skinny jeans you’ve only ever seen him wear to parties like this one, since he usually wears sweatpants everywhere else. His hair is half-down and half-up in a bun, not too different from the usual messy man bun he goes for.

Once he arrives at your side, beer can in hand, you exchange greetings and small talk, talking about nothing and everything. In the middle of a conversation, some drunk rando throws up by your feet, so you and eren migrate to a different room. On the way though, another person bumps into you and spills their drink down your shirt. It doesn’t help that you were already damp with sweat from how hot and stuffy it is, as well as nauseous from the lingering stench of vomit mixed with alcohol and BO. You meet their eyes with hellfire on your tongue and in any other situation, you would’ve let it loose, but the way they paw at your clothes and slur their apology reminds you that you’re in a house full of clumsy idiots just like them, so you just shrug it off and focus on finding a bathroom to clean up in.

That’s what Eren likes about you. You’re down-to-earth and keep to yourself, but don’t let people walk over you and speak out when you need to; you’re not exactly timid, but you’re soft-spoken in a way that suits your voice and nice to people without being overly nice. Oh and don’t get him started on your witty humour and the way you play off other people’s jokes so effortlessly; even when you shake your head or roll your eyes or just ignore him after he tells a joke that doesn’t land, he’s buzzing. That’s why he’s been ogling you during your shared lectures, the reason he keeps ‘losing’ his pens and asking to borrow from you, the reason he keeps ‘forgetting’ to give them back, the reason he asked you out to this party! Something about you just got Eren hooked, to the point that he couldn’t stop thinking about you, to the point he would wake up with a boner almost every morning and jerk off from what he remembered of his dreams about you; to the point those dreams turned into fantasies, imagining what your body looks like under your clothes, what your moans sound like, what faces you’d make.

You, on the other hand, didn’t have any strong feelings toward Eren until later. You thought of him as kind of average, if not a little loud and annoying at times, such as when he disrupted class, but in a word, tolerable, and definitely not the worst classmate you’ve ever had. Usually, you’d never give a guy like him the time of day unless he actually tried to pursue you (instead of just flirting and joking around aimlessly) but your interest was piqued after your friends passed on to you some rumours about him being a self-proclaimed ‘hardcore dom’. From that point on, you were just as hooked. You became less dismissive and a little more friendly, playing along with his game — long enough so that he’d never see it coming once you finally sunk your claws into him.

That’s why, when you finally find the bathroom, you stop in the doorway, turn to Eren in your stained shirt and say, “Do you mind helping me clean up?”

The excitement in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed as he answers a nonchalant, “Yeah, sure,” and follows you inside. The soft click of the lock has Eren’s pulse jumping because he knows exactly where this is going. He knew you had to feel something back, that you couldn’t resist his advances forever. His eyes scan you shamelessly while you pull your top over your head and start wiping your chest down with a towel. He leans against the door and comments, “Hey now, you might give a guy the wrong idea taking off your clothes like that,” and that’s what sets everything else into motion.

“Yeah?” you say as you step closer. Your voice is hushed, lowered, as if to whisper a dirty secret. “How do you know it’s the wrong idea?”

Eren falters at your forwardness, but runs a palm over his hair and regains his composure. “I guess I don’t,” he says, not even trying to hide the way he’s staring at your lips. “So, is it?” His dark gaze flicks back up to your eyes. “The wrong idea?”

You smile and make sure to bat your eyelashes extra prettily as you whisper, “Why don’t you kiss me and find out?”

His lips are on you as soon as you finish the question and his hands grasp at you while he backs you up against the door. He kisses you feverishly and as impatiently as you’ve been feeling this entire night. You let him kiss along your jaw, down your neck, across your collarbone, but before he can get too carried away, you guide him back to your lips. This time, you take over leadership in the kiss. Eren smirks, mistaking it for eagerness, until a skilled tongue slides into his mouth and your hands begin to touch him with confidence and ease. His breath hitches once, twice, and it only spirals from there. He’s gasping and panting in seconds, overwhelmed and barely managing to keep up. Slowly but surely, you’re pushing back, and he can feel himself giving in, involuntarily yielding to you like it’s a biological instinct. He doesn’t even realise how bad it is until it’s too late, until his back is pressed against the door and his centre of gravity becomes you, staring at him with a look he’s never seen on your face before.

“You’re real pretty, you know that, right?” you tell him as you tuck some of the loose hair from his bun behind his ear. Eren opens his mouth, presumably to bark out a retort at your (what he believes to be) demeaning choice of words, but all that comes out is a quiet moan as your knee rides up between his legs. You take advantage of that and slip your thumb inside, pressing down on his tongue and opening his mouth wider. “So pretty,” you add in a croon, but then he brings his teeth down and bites your thumb. You don’t give him the satisfaction of a pained reaction, settling for a disappointed glare and a tight grip of his jaw. “Don’t be a brat now, Jaeger. You don’t wanna know what I do to brats.” Interestingly, the lump against your knee twitches. You arch an eyebrow. “Oh? Or maybe you do?”

His eyes are on yours, seemingly stern and rebellious but you know it’s just a ruse; you know begging for mercy when you see it. Such eyes suit him, you’ll give him that, but you’d have to be a fool not to take this opportunity, to give him that final nudge, those final few centimetres he needs to be all yours. So you whisper into his ear, the kinds of things he’s used to saying and worse, until he’s flushed and speechless, stuttering over his breaths and holding back whines. It’s almost too easy when you lean down to his neck, and he just lifts his chin and gives it to you, without you even having to ask. You reward him with red kisses and purple lovebites that have the skin beneath your lips thrumming with suppressed moans. It’s such a treat too, how affected he is when you’ve barely even started.

Some part of Eren is still screaming at him to steal back his dignity and the role he’s made a reputation out of, but his pants are damp and so tight it hurts, it’s really not his fault when he starts grinding against your knee in search of relief. You find it adorable, really, and smirk against his neck as you press your knee forward in an act of pity. A whimper slips from him and he ruts against you faster, more desperately, so desperately. He almost sobs because he was sure your actions would be as cruel as your words, but he’s too caught up in chasing his high to feel relieved or thankful. He focuses only on moving his hips, back and forth, back and forth, and holy shit, is he really about to come already? In his pants, like some teenager?

He stops his movements, shaking with the effort of keeping still. With clammy hands, he hurries to undo his jeans, but you snatch them away and pin them to the wall. Your curled lips indicate that you understand the situation just fine without an explanation, yet you still have the audacity to say, “What’s the matter? Don’t you wanna come?” your tone all flowery and pure as you pick up where he left off, mercilessly rubbing his cock through the fabric.

“No, no, no, fuck,” Eren chokes out, even as he betrays himself by meeting your knee halfway, but he just can’t stop! His peak is drawing closer and closer and his downward motions just get harder and faster. It feels so good and he’s so, so–

“Don’t come yet.”

Eren’s first thought is: how the fuck is he supposed to do that? But then his second thought is: why would he listen to you anyway? What authority do you have over him? And yet what comes out of his mouth is, “Please–”

“Begging so soon?” you say against his lips. “That’s sweet, it really is.” You let go of his wrists and trail your hands down his arms to his chest, then over a nipple experimentally, grinning when you feel it pebble under your light touch. You give it some more attention, circling and rubbing it through the fabric until Eren’s hands are clutching your shoulders and he’s curling in on himself trying to escape the foreign sensation. He never thought that part of his body could feel... good?

You suddenly pinch and twist it and Eren whines. The pain is sharp, and yet that’s what has his orgasm returning. With only a few more grinds against your knee, it’s hitting him fast, from all angles, and the thing he’s been dreading finally comes true. He soaks his underwear with cum, hot and sticky and disgusting. He moans weakly, digging his blunt fingernails into your shoulders as his head raises up against the door.

You sigh, disappointed. “I didn’t say you could come.”

Eren is standing there, trying to catch his breath and too out of it to respond to you, when you suddenly grab him through his pants. His back arches at the overstimulation and you’re smiling because of course you are as your hand massages over his bulge and the horrid squelching sounds remind him of his shame. He tries to get away from the stimulation, gasping out, “Stop, stop, stop!” but when you don’t hear that lovely ‘please’ you only quicken your ministrations.

“You’re such a pervert, Eren,” you taunt, soft and sultry, as if you weren’t humiliating him with your words. “Coming in your pants from having your nipples played with? And it’s only been like, what, a minute?”

His cheeks turn pink, his eyebrows knit together, and all he can say is a shaky, “Shut up.”

You snicker. “Aw, don’t be embarrassed. It’s cute! You’re just like a virgin.”

“I’m not a virgin,” he croaks out, and it’s true, but you pretend to be unconvinced so you can watch him rush to make you believe him while his face blooms a darker shade of pink and his cock hardens at your touch — or maybe your words? Either way, you continue palming him until his defiant expression fades, until it’s replaced by parted lips and hooded eyes.

Then you pull away, just as he’s starting to buck into your palm. You relish the way he looks at you, so questioning and betrayed. You wish you could see what other faces you can get him to make, but now that you’ve given him a taste, you intend to take it all away. It’s the funnest part of this all; leaving him wanting after planting the seed of what could be into his mind, letting him continue with his life of hook-ups and one-night-stands before he inevitably comes running back to you. It would be so easy now to lose your patience and ravage him like a starved man, sure, but that takes away the fun in taking him apart piece by piece. You’ve come all this way; it would be a shame not to savour it.

“Why did you stop?”

There it is, you think, and you can’t help smiling. “You told me to,” you answer as you take a step back. Eren stands there, the start of a protest falling from his lips. You don’t wait for him to finish, instead reaching for your shirt and putting it back on.

“Hey,” Eren scoffs and grabs your arm. “You can’t just leave.” His tone is light-hearted, but you can tell he’s being serious, and that it’s more like a plea rather than the statement it’s phrased as.

“Oh, can’t I?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “Why not?”

Eren looks at you, then his crotch. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this lost for words.

You just laugh through your nose, like he’s told a bad joke. “This is your punishment, Eren. You should remember it next time you think about disobeying me.” You wave your hand for him to move, but he lingers, so you give him a pointed look, a silent demand. He steps out of the way and you open the door. “See you in class on Monday,” you say over your shoulder before shutting the door behind you.

Standing there with his heart still pounding with adrenaline, Eren realises that he was right before; your actions are as cruel as your words, crueller even, he just guessed too soon. He should be livid — you’ve left him covered in hickeys, with an aching boner and cum that’s still warm in his pants — but all he can think about is two words: next time. Even after days have passed, he doesn’t stop thinking about them. He clings to them like a lifeline, every day and every class with you after that; turning those words over, listening to the echo of your voice in his mind, the way your lips moved around those two bittersweet syllables. He thinks about them for an entire three weeks before they finally come into existence thanks to a class assignment that gets the two of you paired up.

You avoid inviting him over too soon, purposely offering to meet up at cafés and the campus library. At first, they were nothing more than that: just doing actual work for the assignment. But soon enough, you start to tease and distract him; a foot skimming his inner calf one too many times to be an accident, a hand on his thigh that rubs up and down but never more. It’s torture, yet Eren feels giddy at the prospect of it leading up to something more, every single time, wondering if this will be the time you go further.

There’s one time he’s sure you will. It starts out innocent, you asking him to get a book that’s too high up for you. As he reaches for it, his shirt lifts up, revealing a strip of his v-line and the waistband of his boxers, how the edge of skin above it is slightly paler, where his tan didn’t reach...

It’s gone as soon as it appears and usually your thoughts would vanish with it — except the aisle happens to be dowsed in shadows from a broken light and the closest person around is on the other side of the library. Eo instead of your urges slipping away, it’s your self-restraint, and rather than taking the book, you take his wrist. Then you pin him to wall and use your other hand to push his lips into yours, all in one fell swoop. The intensity with which you kiss him and the way you have him pressed against the wall brings him back to that night. He kisses back just as passionately, all slippery saliva and clashing teeth. He’s sweating already, hot with the thrill of what else you’re willing to do, how far you’re willing to go in a public place like this. Would you touch him? make him come in his pants? Leave him hard?

A hand clutching onto your shirt brings you back to your senses. You pull away and Eren tries to chase your lips, but you catch his jaw before he can. He’s still panting from the residual excitement of earlier. His eyes stare at you, puppy-like in the way they speak a silent plea and twinkle with the reflection of the library ceiling lights behind you. You just smile and pet his spit-slick lips with a thumb, the gentle touch distracting him long enough for you to grab the book he’s still holding and step back. “Thanks,” you say, gesturing to the book before walking away.

Just seconds ago, Eren’s mind was racing with thoughts, but as he stares at your retreating back, his only thought is that you really are cruel — and yet it is that thought, and that moment, that replay in his head that very night as he’s roughly pumping his cock and coming in his underwear, if only to pretend you forced him to, just like back then. He’s pathetic, he knows that, but at the same time, it’s all he can do. He just feels so... he doesn’t even know what to call it, but it has him drooling after everything you do. He’s never felt this way about anyone. He’s only ever slept around with people, too afraid of committment for even friends with benefits or a situationship. He’s not even all that great with friendships, with only two friends he’s been lucky enough to have by his side since childhood, and a few guys he talks to and has lunch with at uni, but never actually hangs out with outside of class. But you? You have something that makes him want to stay, to keep going after you; you’re the reason he hasn’t slept with anyone since the party. He’s tried to, but it’s just not the same. He feels like you’ve ruined him for everyone else. That’s why he has no other choice but to fuck his fist after every meet-up with you, imagining it as your fist while the words you left him with loop in his head.

It isn’t until over halfway through the project that Eren’s pining finally reaches its peak with a single message:

let’s work at my place today, usual time

The way it’s not a question does something to him, which is when he realises how pent-up he is. He knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up, but by the time he reaches your dorm, he’s already half-hard. He wipes his sweaty hands off on his tee and adjusts himself in his sweatpants before knocking on your door. When you open it, you’re in nothing but a t-shirt and shorts, legs bare and feet clad in slippers.

“You’re early,” you say as Eren strolls inside.

He scoffs. “Not on purpose,” he says, hoping you don’t see through his façade (you do). He slides his hands into his pockets and takes a look around your room. Various shelves and decoration on your walls, reflecting your interests; memorabilia and clutter on different surfaces and furniture. Some clothes thrown over your desk chair, a few plants and books. There’s a scent in the air too, not too strong but prominent and uniquely you.

“When you’re done snooping around my room like a creep,” you call out from your bed, “we should get on with the assignment.” Your fingers clack away on your laptop keyboard for a bit before looking at Eren. “I know the deadline’s next Friday but I’d rather get it done as soon as, y’know?”

Eren’s stomach drops. He completely forgot the real reason he was invited here; the innocent reason he was invited here. Your tone was casual, gave no indication that you knew, yet as he stands there in front of you, he feels like you’re in his head. Do you know the effect you had on him at the party? The effect you continue to have on him? Shit, Eren thinks, as he clenches and unclenches his fists. He wants to respond, play it off cool and act like he only agreed to come so enthusiastically because he cares about his grades, but his mind is blank.

“Cat got your tongue?” you tease, shifting into a position that has you face-on to Eren. Then you slide to the edge of the bed and lean forward. “Why so quiet, Jaeger? That’s not like you, your loud mouth usually always has something to say.” Those scrutinising eyes scan him from head to toe. Slowly. “And where are all the materials anyway? The ones you were meant to bring? For the assignment?”

He feels caught, trapped like prey, and with every few-second flick of your eyes, every purposely chosen word and perfectly timed pause, he feels himself get smaller and smaller.

“Don’t tell me,” you start, but with those three words alone, Eren already knows his fate has been sealed, “you thought we wouldn’t actually be doing the assignment?” You’re smiling now, the same smile you had in that bathroom three weeks ago as you palmed him through his cum-soaked pants. “What did you think we were going to do, huh? Please, tell me...” Your eyes narrow into slits and your lips stretch out in a smile, showing off teeth that flash like a predator’s. “I am so curious.”

You’re pushing his buttons, making him feel like the desperate one, and maybe he is, but could you blame him? Eren just wants another taste of what you gave him at the party, and most of all, he wants you. He realises that maybe you really did just send that text with the intention of working on the assignment, but there’s no denying that in this moment, that’s not what this is; in this moment, you’re nudging him forward after toying with his sexual frustration, and in this moment, Eren decides to put a stop to it.

He stomps forward until he’s looming over you, a sharp scowl twisting his features. “Stop playing dumb, [Name]. You know damn well what you were doing when you sent me that text,” he snarls, sea green eyes stormy and narrowed. “I’m done with these games, alright? If you’re not going to take responsibility for making me like this, then– then I will.” He almost falters from the weight of your eyes, the way they just sit there, waiting and unfazed, but he steels his composure. “You’re just a brat anyway,” he says, leaning in. “All you really want is for someone to put you back in your place.”

That smile hasn’t left; hasn’t so much as twitched. In the position you’re in, you’re looking up at him, but the way you’re doing it makes it feel as though Eren is the one looking up, the one being looked down on. “Well... you’re right about me knowing what i was doing,” you admit, “but the rest? Not so much. Not for me, anyway.” You trace the collar of Eren’s t-shirt with your fingertips, drag your palm down his chest...

You suddenly bunch up the fabric and yank it with a tight fist. Your other hand catches Eren’s shoulder and keeps him steady as his palms land on either side of you, knees bent and head in the crook of your neck. “Come now, Jaeger. Do you really think I’m the brat in this situation?” You say softly, your breath warm and your lips featherlight as they graze his ear lobe. “Put me back in my place?” you giggle quietly and it reverberates through eren’s skull like a thunder clap. “Does that really sound like something you want to do to me?” He can feel the way you smile against the shell of his ear, the wetness of your teeth. “Or is that just the only way you know how to ask for something to be done to you?”

Eren is hidden in your neck yet he feels completely exposed. He wants to mask the way your words make his breathing stutter, but when you’re this close, even he knows it’s no use. All he can do is stay right where he is, frozen in a mixture of embarrassment and anticipation.

You shove Eren back and he crumbles to the floor on all fours. “That’s more like it.” You tilt your head at him as he sits up on his knees. “Doesn’t this feel so much better?”

Eren doesn’t want to admit it, not even to himself, but it does feel better. His gaze drops to his lap in shame but that’s where he sees the even more shameful bulge that’s formed between his legs. he instinctually covers it up, but he’s too late, and his attempt at hiding it only confirms what you already know. You reach over and angle his head up by his chin. You have an unimpressed expression on your face, but your eyes contrast it with their fiery intrigue. “Wow, Eren,” you say through an amused sigh as you lean in close to his face. “Are you seriously hard right now?”

He swallows nervously and presses his thighs together. His breathing is already faltering in his chest, but he tries to keep it steady as he replies, “You can’t blame me. You’ve been teasing me ever since you left me at the party. Just like this.”

A hand yanks his head back by his hair and Eren is unable to stop the moan that escapes him. He chews on his lip as you sneer down at him. “Being left like that was exactly what you deserved,” you mutter, then you raise your eyebrows, feigning a contemplative expression, “but maybe another, harsher punishment is what you need to learn your lesson, hm?”

Eren’s dick twitches and he would’ve nodded too, if he didn’t register at the last minute that punishments aren’t meant to be enjoyed.

You catch it anyway, and scoff. “Of course, you’d like that, you fucking whore.” You let go of his hair and lean back. eren stares at you, confused, until you pat your lap. “Sit,” you tell him. Your posture is relaxed, in contrast to his, which tenses as he straddles your lap, resting his hands on your shoulders. Your eyes widen and you smile incredulously. “I guess leaving you like that wasn’t entirely useless, huh?” you laugh to yourself and massage along his hips and thighs before finally tugging the waistband of his sweatpants down, slowly, along with his underwear. A shudder runs down Eren’s spine at the touch of cool air on his skin. His hard cock bumps against his abdomen, leaving behind a shiny smudge of precum. You tap his wet tip and draw circles around it, making Eren hiss and briefly dig his nails into your shoulders.

“Don’t–” he stops himself when you glance up at him.

Your eyebrows raise. “What was that?” you ask, but he just swallows and remains silent. “Use your manners, baby. You’ve done it once before, so I know you can.” Your other hand snakes under his t-shirt and caresses his side. “Don’t get shy now. If you’re cute enough, I might give you a reward.”

Eren shifts in your lap. There’s a pause. then, “Please.”

You chuckle. “Come on, ‘Ren,” you say, “you can do better than that.”

He looks exasperated, but tries again anyway. “Please,” he repeats. “Please just– just touch me. Please.”

He makes it too easy to tease him, you think, as you grin wickedly. “But I’m touching you right now, aren’t I?”

Eren groans. “Yes but– you’re not–” He jumps as you dip your nail gently into his slit. “Fuck, just put your hand around my cock please.”

You surprise him by doing exactly that, a loud moan being torn out of him. Your grip is tight as you drag your fingers down his length, spreading his precum. With how pent up he’s been, Eren feels like he’s close already. His body tingles with pleasure and anticipation. It’s almost too much, yet not enough, the way you slide your hand up then down, up then down, steady and unrushed. Just as Eren is about to ask you to go faster, you rotate your hand over his leaking tip and he chokes on his words. You do it again, and again, before returning to your previous motions. You repeat this, changing your pace a few times, just to watch him squirm, before resuming your steady pumping. Eren begins to wonder if you’re waiting for him to beg more, if you’ll just keep doing this until he asks you to go faster, but the next time you change your pace, it’s fast and doesn’t stop, just goes even faster. Eren stumbles over his breaths. He’s relieved, but at the same time it’s too fast. “Fuck, slo– slow down,” he says in a strangled voice. He is hurtling toward his orgasm, he’s definitely not going to last. Shit, how were you able to go so fast and hard at the same time? It felt like he was on fire. He’s so–

You stop.

A single meek drop of precum trickles down Eren’s dick.

“No–” He groans. “What the fuck? Why did– why didn’t you–”

“Did you forget already?” you interrupt, grinning from ear to ear. Eren’s lips remain pursed in frustration. “This is your punishment, remember?”

A range of emotions pass over Eren’s face: realisation, horror, anger, desperation, self-pity. You watch his inner conflict set aflame, how he looks down at his aching dick, how his fingers twitch and one hand even goes as far as to dip down to try and touch himself, but you grab it and place it back around your neck. “Only I get to touch you, and only I will decide when you get to cum,” you tell him and Eren curses under his breath but stays put. From there, you go back to touching him. You bring him to the edge, over and over, abusing your knowledge of all his weak spots, squeezing and rubbing and pumping vigourously for what must be at least eight times; until his speech is slurred and his pleas are barely intelligible.

When you let go for the final time, you hear him sniffle against your neck.

“That bad, huh?” you mumble, mostly to yourself. You slip your hands beneath his shirt and trace the smooth plains of his torso, up and down, feeling the muscles ripple and writhe from the barely-there touch. “Okay,” you say, “you’ve been good, so I’ll reward you now.” His hips jut out violently and grind against your stomach. You grab his drenched cock and suck your teeth in disapproval. “Don’t ruin it by getting too greedy now, Eren.”

He stares at you, turquoise irises engulfed in black pupils, and licks his lips. “What’s my reward?”

You just smile. “You’ll find out soon enough,” you answer. You pull up his waistband and snap it against his sensitive cock, making him yelp. “First, I want you to get up and take off your clothes.”

Eren is eager and obeys quickly, making a show of it as he does; flexing his muscles a little more than necessary, his movements slow and sensual and tempting because that’s just how he’s done this every time before this. But the sooner that usual ego of his rises, the sooner it falls, because once he’s down to his last item of clothing — his boxers — he just stands there like he doesn’t know what to do next. He does, of course, but he’s feeling what seems like dread at the idea of being completely naked in front of you. Not because he’s insecure, but the fact that it’s you he’s showing it to; you with your fox grins and cruel, humiliating words, your rough treatment and watchful eyes... Fuck, just the thought is making him harder, and then even harder as he wonders if you can see it. Will you point it out? Will you make fun of him? Call him names?

Eren jumps when you graze his crotch with the end of your foot. “Having second thoughts?” you say, teasing but serious all the same.

“No,” he says without hesitating.

“Then go on.” You lift your foot and Eren tenses in anticipation, but you just grin wider and point to the head of his dick, peering out slightly from his boxers, without touching it. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

He slides the waistband down his thighs and lets it drop to his feet, then steps out and tosses the garment aside. You’re still fully clothed and relaxed while you look him up and down. Eren slides a hand over the top of his hair, pushing away the fallen strands. He thought he felt exposed earlier, but now it’s even worse. Your eyes are practically devouring him, but you can’t help it. The way he’s standing there, completely nude while you aren’t, waiting for your next command while staring at you with those dark aqua eyes from under pretty dark eyelashes. No number of late-night fantasising would do this sight justice, yet you wonder if you can make it even better. You wonder if you can push him just a little bit further, see how much more you can bend him before he breaks.

“You look nervous, Eren,” you say. “Are you sure you–”

“Yes! Yes, I’m sure,” he all but gasps out.

You arch an eyebrow at his interruption. “I was going to say are you sure you want this? Are you sure you want me?” you clarify. “For all I know, you’re just a slut who’ll pounce on anyone. How do I know I’m not just a set of holes to you, hm?”

Eren frowns. “No, that’s not–” He steps closer to you and sinks to his knees in front of you. “I only want you, [Name]. No one...” His cheeks flush hot and he looks away from your eyes. “No one else could fuck me as good as you.”

It’s not the entire truth and you know that. You’ve always been good at reading people. Though Eren may be better than the average person at lying, around you? All of that depletes and he becomes an open book. “And how would you know that?” you say as you lean back on your palms.

“I don’t,” Eren says as he places his hands on your knees, “but maybe you can show me?”

It’s pathetic yet so beautiful to see a man like Eren Jaeger like this: on his knees and at your disposal. I5’s almost a shame you couldn’t get here sooner, but you’ve always believed in delayed gratification, in trusting the process and the like; that’s why you adore men like him, who’ve only ever been doms and have never even considered anything else. It’s so much fun to string them along, allow them to unknowingly fall into a false sense of security, to make them think you’re just another obedient little sub, and how once you’ve built that up enough, breaking them is all the sweeter.

The shift of you leaning forward makes Eren sit up. He’s not sure what he’s expecting, but you gently petting his hair definitely isn’t it. He melts, dropping his head and resting his cheek against your knee, just like you thought he would. After all, you noticed that pushing back loose hair is a nervous tic of his, and so naturally this kind of touch comforts him. You smile fondly at that.

The tender moment is broken by Eren humping your leg. You’re not sure if he even realises he’s doing it. His eyes are shut and he’s whimpering like a dog. The grasp he has around your knees tightens. “Eren,” you say to him and he seems to regain some awareness, stopping his movement and looking up at you. “Would you like your reward?”

He breathes out like he’s been holding it. “Please.”

You pat the space behind you. “Come lay down.”

He does so and you wait for him to get comfortable before perching yourself on his lap. You begin by sliding your hands up his torso and back down again, tracing the dips and curves of his body. You litter kisses from his neck to his collarbone and chest. Your breath ghosts over a nipple and Eren shivers. You take a second to smile before flicking your tongue over the dark pink bud. His chest raises off the bed and into your mouth as you latch onto the nub and swirl your tongue around it. Your hand makes work of his other nipple and Eren’s hips buck into you. A string of spit forms and snaps as you pull away and resume your path down his torso, pecking down his belly, hip and finally, his inner thigh. You feel Eren squirm as your cool breaths hit his drooling cock. You flatten your tongue and lick up from the base, kissing the tip wetly before taking it into your mouth and sucking hard. Eren throws his head back and moans, fallen strands fanning out against the pillows. His hips are restless, so you hold them down while you slide down to the base, then back up to suck on the tip again. Your motions are smooth, aided by saliva and precum, as you begin to bob your head up and down his length.

Eren’s fingers find your hair and cling there. You break away to mutter a cautionary, “Easy,” then swallow down his cock again, moving quicker now. With how you’ve been teasing and edging him, you suspect that he’ll come soon. His sounds get higher and louder, more frequent, and every so often the hands on your head flinch or scratch or curl.

“I’m close, I’m close,” Eren warns through laboured breaths. His skin is damp with sweat, long strands sticking to his forehead in curled shapes. “Please le– let me come.”

You answer him by not stopping, by using your hand to pump the bottom half of his cock while continuing to suck on the rest with hollowed cheeks and wet lips.

“Fuck, m’gonna c– ah! Fuck, please let– please!” His back arches, sheets peeling off his skin before he collapses again, abdomen contracting. “Please say I can–” His nails dig into your scalp as he moans, drawn out and loud. Hot fluid fills up your mouth and throat. You swallow and don’t cease moving until eren is pawing at your face and mumbling about how it’s too much. Afterwards, unable to hold back your teasing nature, you give a few kitten licks to his reddened tip, enjoying how it makes him whine and jolt.

“I take it you liked your reward then?” you say, pushing away the stringy hair around his cheeks and forehead.

“Yeah,” Eren pants, and as he’s lying there, all blissed out and in the process of winding down from his high, you’re gazing down at him in a way he’s only been able to dream of until now and he realises that sure, blowjobs aren’t anything special or revolutionary, but everything leading up to it is what made it so amazing, you are what made it so amazing. You’re everything he didn’t know he wanted, the key that unlocked his hidden desires, and even if you were to leave him hard and aching for your touch again, even if you teased him to no end and laughed at him and called him names, he’d still come back if you gave him the chance because he loves it. He loves you.

You lean in and kiss Eren; delicately, kindly, with care and a gentle want, a peaceful want reserved for lovers, because somewhere along the way you started to develop feelings for him. Eren had only hoped for such a thing, thought that it was wishful thinking and delusion that gave him the impression you might feel the same way. Maybe you didn’t at the beginning; maybe it started out as just lust, but right now you love him and he loves you. The lust is still there, but it’s soft now, and so much more than it was.

1K notes · View notes