#plot drabble

[aresite]

The Festival

The sun was shining warm and bright and there was a light breeze that washed over the sunburnt grass that lined the long, winding dirt road. The road was full of weary travelers. A multitude of carts, wagons, people mounted on Pokemon, and people walking in worn out shoes trodden along in a noisy clamor. There was an excitement in the air that the weary travelers had not felt in a long time.

Ares ran ahead with an excited twinkle in his eyes as he reached the top of a large hill and then came to a stop to catch his breath. If the hill hadn't winded him already then the sight beyond the hill would have. He let out an excited cry as he saw the massive city of Motostoke awaiting them in the distance.

The city rested across on the other side of a large valley. There was a beautiful lake that sparkled in the sunlight between the hill Ares stood on and the city. The line of travelers winded around the lake until it congested in front of the city gates - which for a limited time were thrown wide open. Ares knew from experience that there were still Guards at the gate but they were there to keep the peace, not to deter entrance to the Capitol City. This Festival was the one time of year that anyone was welcome into the city and thus people came from far and wide in search of enjoyment, opportunities, or to slip into the city.

Olli ran up beside him with an equally bright smile. The boy's shaggy red hair whipped about his face in the breeze and he eagerly pushed his messy bangs out of his face. He sucked in a deep breath as his eyes locked on Motostoke. Ares followed his gaze and assumed that he was looking not at the city itself... but at Motostoke Castle. He frowned lightly and opened his mouth to try and say something but before he did a voice coming from behind them interrupted them.

"Ah, there she is!" An enthusiastic cheer came from the hill behind them and both Ares and Olli turned around to see Jack approaching the top of the hill. He clapped his hands and then came to a stop beside Ares, "Motostoke - a granite scar on the heart of Galar." "Scar?" Ares asked, "Oh yeah... you don't like Motostoke... right Jack?" Olli stuck out his tongue, "Did Robin Hood like Nottingham? So of course he doesn't like Motostoke!" Jack cast Olli a crooked smile, "Aye. T'is true that I have no love for that city."

He turned around and with the same crooked grin watched the rest of the Rovers reach the top of the hill. Their wagons came to a groaning stop around him.

"Aight Lads!" Jack called out to the group, "We'll take a pause here and come up with our game plan."

Olli's eyes scanned over the ragged group of Rovers but then froze when he saw Chevali's come to a stop. The Fortune Teller was seated on the Driver's Box with the reins still in her hands. Her cold gaze instantly matched Olli's and the boy quickly looked away. Erya was seated next to Chevali in the box but she was quick to slide down and run over towards them. Jack patted her head without taking his eyes off the others.

"There will be some changes this year." He called out, "Our group is now too small to risk breaking up so we'll go all go in in one group." He paused and looked at Durril who was waiting impatiently in the Driver's Box of his own Vardo, "Durril - you are in charge once inside the City Walls." Durril nodded without saying anything in response.

"Everything else will be the same - set up in the usual spot and then head out to earn as much coin as you can." Jack ordered, "I want everyone to do their part - whether its performing for coin on the street or picking pockets. No one is to return empty handed. Understood? This is the biggest opportunity of the year to earn money and we won't waste it." "What about you?" Durril challenged. "I?" Jack responded, "Same as before, I will not be entering the City walls with the group." He put his hand on Erya's head, "I will stay and watch over this lass here, and then we will blend in with the crowd as we enter." Erya looked up at Jack with a confused look, "I'm going into the City? But Mestipol sai-" "Mestipol is dead - and with him his rules." Jack countered. He removed his hand to pull the large ruby out of his pocket that had been gifted to them in the woods, "I will be going in disguised as a merchant to sell this to one of the local jewelers. It would be less suspicious for a Merchant to sell such a gem with his daughter in tow than for a group of Rovers to." Jack pocketed the ruby again, "Anyway, our group has been splintered too severely. We no longer have the members to protect ourselves on the road if something were to come up. While we are in the city we will have to look into gaining more members as well. The money from this ruby will help buy us a member or two from another Rover Troupe, or perhaps hire someone from an Adventurers Guild to support us for awhile. Otherwise I'd suggest we hold onto it and I would never set foot in that cursed city."

A soft whisper washed over the Rovers but no one argued. Jack then stepped aside. He grabbed Erya by the hand and pulled her along with him, "Lead the way, Durril."

Durril nodded and then flicked the reins and his Mudsdale neighed softly and clopped his hoof on the dirt before starting forward with a sigh. Immediately the troupe started forward towards the crowd of people making their way towards the city.

Ares and Olli hesitated for a moment and looked at each other and then back at Jack and Erya before they too turned and followed after the Kumpania on foot.

[katescorner]

suna "we're just friends" rintaro who's actually in a secret relationship with you, but feels the need to keep it a secret until it gets more serious because he's scared. except the miya twins have caught on, and they have a running bet going for who's going to spill first. atsumu thinks suna would rather keel over than admit to them he's dating someone, but osamu is smugly convinced that his friend's resolve is weaker than yours. so they decide to put it to the test.

it starts off . . . weird. osamu is putting moves on you, and you have no idea what to make of it. he's asking to walk you home and tells you that you should come to watch them practice. he even shoves atsumu out of their usual seat in the cafeteria to invite you to sit next to him. he seems really interested in you, and you don't want to be mean, but you also can't lead him on.

you're too focused on osamu's strange behavior to notice that he only acts this way when suna is around. so you don't see the way your boyfriend clenches and unclenches his fists when he overhears osamu wanting to walk you home after school. you don't hear the huff he lets out or how he slams his locker door a little harder when osamu invites you to watch them play with a well practiced smile. and you certainly don't realize the sheet white paleness that grows on his face when osamu shoves atsumu off the bench to make space for you.

suna doesn't blame you. his friends are idiots and getting on his last nerve. but everything comes to a screeching halt when osamu puts his arm around your shoulder, and suna absolutely loses it.

"we're dating!" it's the closest he gets to yelling without actually, but it's loud.

"damn it!" atsumu shouts, but suna doesn't hear. he practically has tunnel vision, zeroed in on where osamu connects to you.

"we're dating," he repeats through gritted teeth. "so get your grimy slimy spiker little hands—" he stalks over to osamu with surprising speed to knock his hand off of you, "off of my—"

"rintaro," you scold softly, and the twins try not to react when their usually unbothered and finicky middle blocker . . . listens?

"he—you're my—i'm—" he erupts in an aggravated groan and quickly decides to pull you to his side, away from osamu.

suna starts mumbling things under his breath they can't hear. his words are clearly reserved only for you, but the twins watch quietly anyway as you smooth away the worry lines growing on his face from his furrowed eyebrows and press a soft kiss to his cheek that has leaves them dusted in the slightest pink. he's whipped, and suddenly the only thing the miyas could think of was—how the hell did they not notice sooner?

yes i'm a soft lovesick sunarin truther. that man is a simp and i take no arguments

[callmeizukunotdeku]

one of my favorite brands of Jason and Tim angst is when Jason realizes that Bruce had been treating Tim like his replacement, not as Robin, but as Jason

Robin's a mantel, a mask that gets passed down from one brother to the next

Jason is a person. full stop.

just,,, something about making Jason's thinking shift from "Bruce replaced me by getting another son" to "Bruce found a kid that looks like me and he acts like the kid is me"

and Jason trying to bring this up with Tim, who knows better and expects worse just replying "at least, now that you're back, he's stopped calling me by your name"

and Jason is like "no, no, you should be asking so much more from him; this is Batman for god's sake"

"yeah" Tim agrees "I asked him to keep me around even though he doesn't need me any more. he seemed to be fine with the idea"

"need you? tim that's a fully grown adult he doesn't need you to do anything for him"

and Tim just gives him a you haven't seen the half of it look and Jason remembers that technically he's right

tim didn't need to do anything, he needed to be someone. and now that Jason is back, he doesn't need to be anyone anymore

but how much of himself did he lose trying to become someone else?

[bloodivores]

He is a creature made of mossy-fur, and dull stripes, and the stench of depression and long forgotten dreams. He is a creature made of the dirt and linked to the heavens through inexplicable means, only to be chewed up and spat out by the powers that be, and locked a thousand miles away from all other life, encased in stone and sustaining himself on what rainwater corrodes the walls, what beasts and bugs squeeze in to feast upon his rotting corpse.

He is a creature created with the promises that he would be great, only to be tossed away once he succeeded his purpose. He was society's greatest hero, he was the heaven's greatest villain.

GodChild. Creation of Ban, Lord of balance. DemonBound. Worshiper of Ramoth, Lord of chaos.

Angel. Demon. Priest. Cultist. Hero. Villain. Beloved. Beloathed. Praised. Forgotten.

He is Azirius.

And when he stirs, the world will stir with him.

𐂂Cast The Crown𐂂

[laurasimonsdaughter]

“The first thing you need to know,” the stable master announced loudly to the gaggle of school children trailing behind her, “is that these are not unicorns.”

Eleven-year-olds tended to be loud. Their silent scepticism was deafening.

“You cannot keep unicorns in captivity,” she continued. “These are all crossbreeds, mostly with specific breeds of horses.”

There was a small murmur of curiosity and a gangly arm shot up into the air.

“Yes?”

“Only mostly horses?”

It was always fun when some of them paid close attention. “Only mostly horses. I only deal with European breeds, and they tend to cross well with horses. See this here is a cross between a grey Thoroughbred and an English Unicorn. They’re large, and reasonably docile.” They also had that champagne sheen most showy folk preferred. “For people who come here looking for a steed, this is their best bet. Although I've only ever seen it done by people who personally broke them as yearlings.”

By now she definitely had the whole class’s full attention.

“But this French Licorne cross is actually half fallow deer.” She gestured to the pasture beyond the fence. “Look at them. Slight build, slender legs, built for speed and agility. They need a lot of space but they are beautiful to look at, and they’re relatively easy to tame for the pure of heart.” There was still something distinctly deer-like about them and they were all so beautifully cream coloured that they almost took on a silver hue.

“What’s those hairy ones?” a voice piped up.

“That’s a Unicorno/Shetland mix, from central Italy. Traditionally they tend to be crossed with Monterufolino, but they are hard to come by and make their coats even darker.” Unicorni were naturally built more like ponies, some with considerably shorter horns, and their coats were often a much darker gold, or even brown. They were less flighty than the French breeds though, even if they showed blatant favouritism towards certain caretakers. They would even pull a carriage if properly motivated.

“Do you have any bigger ones?”

The stable master turned around. “What was that?”

One of the boys was standing behind her with a determined look on his face. “Do you have any like that but bigger. With the beards and the furry hooves.”

“Feathering,” she corrected automatically and the boy nodded eagerly. She frowned. “What exactly do you mean?”

“There’s really big unicorns,” he pressed. “With wild manes and tails and split hooves like the French ones but hair like those ones!”

“Buddy,” she laughed, “what you’re describing there is a Scottish unicorn and let me tell you, they cannot even be crossbred into domestication.”

The little face fell.

“Any offspring of an Aon-adharcach will be as wild as they are no one can capture them with their horn still intact, not on your life. You go near one of them with a halter and it will skewer you.”

She smiled at the boy, who still looked rather taken aback, despite this proof of his favourites superiority.

“Tell you what. If you want to see something unhinged and imposing, I’ll take you to see the Eenhoorn/Friesian cross we’ve just got in from the Netherlands.”

[blue-armadillo]

your nerd!boyfriend gets horny when you're reading ♡ (18+ mdni)

you're perched up on your bed, reading a novel.

but your nerd!boyfriend is getting way too needy. the poor guy.

is it even his fault, though?

your elbows are unintentionally squishing your tits together. and every time you flip a page, your tits bounce ever so slightly, your nipples peeking through the thin tank top you're wearing.

your thighs are folded up towards your chest, and he can swear he sees a bit of your panties through your loose shorts every time you change your reading position.

and gosh. you're reading. that's the hottest thing he's ever seen you do.

the way your eyes scan each page. the subtle shift in your expression every once in a while.

he's leaking. literally. his cock is so hard that it's almost humiliating how horny he's getting just from watching you read. he can feel the pre-cum drenching his underwear.

you're still reading, oblivious to his predicamental situation, when all of a sudden, you hear a whimper.

your eyes shoot to him. and then you see it.

the giant wet spot on the front of his sweatpants. the silhouette of his fat, hard cock glaring at you through the grey fabric.

the tips of his ears turn a bright pink, colour rapidly spreading to the rest of his face.

'"uh- i- i'm just- i didn't mean to-" he stutters in a fit of embarrassment.

"do you enjoy watching me read?" you question him with a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

his eyes frantically search the room for a way out of this direct interrogation.

"i- no, n-no, it's not that, i-"

your book falls onto the bed with a soft thud as you lean forward to grab a hold of his twitching dick.

he whimpers.

you flash him an evil smile as you tighten your grip on his shaft, squeezing it in your palm.

the whole of his body shudders and a needy moan escapes his flushed lips, his eyelids shut tightly against each other. more pre-cum oozes out of his tip, imprinting itself onto the fabric of his pants.

"are you sure about that, baby?"

he gives in to your torture.

"i- y-yes, i'm sorry, y- you-re just so sexy when you read. so smart. i c-can't help it. it makes me so h-horny."

and the way he looks at you with such innocence. such helplessness.

gosh, you were gonna have so much fun with him.

"what else? go on."

you begin stroking his shaft through his sweatpants, squeezing it in your palm tighter by the second.

"ahn! f-fuuuuuck, i- i just couldn't stop thinking about y-you riding my c-cock and letting me cum in your p-pussy-"

your pace grows more rapid, your own wetness becoming evident to you.

"yeah? you wanna cum in mommy's pussy? wanna see my tits bounce while i fuck this beautiful cock?"

"y-yes. very, i-"

clearly, your dirty talking is enough to make him finish. his cum spurts out of his clothed cock, making the whole of his sweatpants milky and wet. his body convulses sporadically as he lets out a series of high-pitched moans.

you tut dramatically.

"tsk, tsk, tsk... look how much you came. is that how badly you wanna be inside me?"

he nods rapidly, his chest heaving and his heart pounding relentlessly.

"aww... well, here's the issue. you interrupted me right when things were getting interesting in my book." you do a fake pout. "and, well, i need to know what happens next." you whisper hotly into his ear.

"but i don't want to leave you like this. you're just so cute."

you pin your index finger into his still heaving chest, using the minimum force to push him flat onto the bed. and then you slide his pants down just enough for the whole of his lengthy cock to spring free. some of the dripping cum splashes onto your fingers.

"so, here's what's gonna happen." you say as you slip off your own shorts and situate yourself on top of his waist, hovering barely a few centimetres away from his erect dick.

he trembles beneath you, the closeness of literal paradise - your pussy - sending him off the edge.

"you're gonna read to me. loud and clear."

you hand him the book.

"meanwhile, i'll ride your cock. have i made myself clear?"

his timid hand grabs a hold of the novel while he lies there dazed, completely drunk in anticipation.

"page 269." you enunciate slowly.

and then you slide down onto his quivering dick.

a loud gasp escapes his lips. his breathing quickens and he shuts his eyes, desperately trying to stop himself from cumming so soon.

you're sitting smack on his fat cock now, your hands resting on his abs. your pussy juices slowly dribble down his thighs and you roll your head back at the full feeling.

"page 269. read. or i'm not fucking you."

"y-yes mommy, i- i will read."

he shuffles - more like struggles - to find the right page.

he begins reading. slowly.

and just as slowly, you raise yourself on his cock, until just the tip is teasing your clit. then you sit back down on him with a gentle 'smack'.

his eyes shut tight and his words become frenzied until they sound like mere gibberish to you.

you force him out of his breathy stupor by roughly grabbing his balls. you give them a squeeze.

"read. properly. i need to be able to understand it. read loud and clear for me."

he nods in submission and resumes.

he's still having a hard time but at least he's trying. and are you actually paying attention to what he's reading? maybe. maybe not.

you're just getting off on the way his voice keeps shuddering and trembling. his sudden gasps. his incoherent bumbles. his soft moans. the high-pitched noises.

and his cock. his perfect cock that stretched you out oh so well. his tip kisses your cervix, turning your stomach into a knot.

as you grind on him, you lift your thin tank top to reveal your plump breasts bouncing in tandem with your hips. you scrunch up the top there, leaving your tits on full display for him.

his eyes look away from the book - that he was trying to mumble as a prayer - and his whole body tremors. his words turn into voiceless gasps.

you smirk and play with your breasts, squishing them and pressing them together. and then you have the audacity to increase your pace on his cock.

you're now full-on bouncing on him, your tits jumping in the air vigorously before him.

'i am not letting you cum if you don't read for me."

"y-yes! i'm sorry- i- i'm reading, i'm reading. just p-please let me cum. please-"

"good boy. you like what you see? you like it when i squish my boobs like this?"

he nods vigorously, trying to focus on the stupid words of the book at the same time. but lord oh lord, he is miserably failing.

you can feel his cock twitching inside you. he's close. and so are you.

"and you like it when mommy bounces on your cock like this?" you go even faster now. the sounds of skin slapping skin - a rhythmic 'smack, smack, smack' - reverberating through the room along with your boyfriend's incoherent, strangled words.

"y-yes, i love it. i love it when you ride me- ohh fuuuuccckk, please let me cum!"

"not if you stop reading." you gasp frantically.

he's gonna cry. and he almost does. tears prick at the corners of his eyes because you're being so mean to him. making him read that stupid book when you're bouncing on his dick like the goddess that you are.

but he wants to cum so bad. and so he somehow finds it in himself to keep uttering the words he's barely able to comprehend anymore.

you ride him even faster now. your eyes are rolling back into your sockets, your grip on his chest harsher. the bed creaks below the weight of your combined bodies, and you come.

you moan loud and deep. "fuck! cum in me right now. cum in my pussy! oh, fuck!"

and oh he does. thick ropes of cum shoot into your warm cunt, kissing your clenched walls. his whole body quakes and he lets out a series of anguished moans, his fingers digging into your thighs.

some of the white goo oozes out of your hole, onto the base of his cock. and he lies there, spent and grateful.

you raise yourself off of him ever so slightly.

and when you bend forward, pressing your tits into his face, blood rushes to his crotch. again.

you smirk at him devilishly.

"oh, we're not done yet. want you to fill me up even more."

this time, you sit on him reverse cowgirl style so that he can see exactly what's happening. the way your bodies connect. how your hungry pussy engulfs the whole of his length.

before beginning your sweet torture, you look back at him, smilingly.

"oh, and- continue reading where you left off, yeah?"

he is a dead man.

[mischiefmaker615]

[gojos-version]

Don’t run now..

Pairings- Husband! Satoru x Wife! Reader

Summary- Satoru was out on a mission and you sent him videos of you using a wondrous toy, teasing him and ignoring him afterward. He’s unexpectedly home earlier than he should’ve been! Whatever will you do?

Warnings- pure filthy smut, pet names used, dildo used (f receiving), overstim, crying, doggystyle, mating press (ofc..), spanking, anal hinted if you squint

Proof read- ✅

Word count- 2.1k :3

A/n- sorry for the super late updates lately! I got pretty sick and busy and that stopped me from writing much :( i really missed it but I’m getting better! I had to go to emergency a few days ago and have surgery hence why the really delayed post I’m super sorry I hope you can all understand! I hope you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it<3 please take care of yourselves lovelies and have an amazing day :) !!

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

“Babyyy, don’t run from it! You’re the one who brought it as my replacement in the first place..” Satoru pouts, shoving the dildo inside of your weeping cunt further, your slick dribbling down your thighs, coating Satoru’s hand and the dildo that was custom made to the size of his cock.

You brought it while Satoru was out for a mission for a week, sending him a video of you having fun with the toy which was a..bad idea.. It kissed your cervix perfectly. Your walls squelched and clenched around it like a vice, ass up all for Satoru’s mercy while you grip the pillow bellow you like a life line.

He was yet to even bring his blind fold down. Something he’s never done before, since he always has his eyes free during intimacy; always having his blue eyes bore into yours while he pounded into you felt different every time. In a good way.

“T-Toru-! Slow-dowwnnuh!! P-pleaseeeuh!” You whimpered out as he slams the toy in with such force you wouldn’t be suprised if it broke your womb. He laughs cruelly at you in response and angles the toy to hit your g-spot making you cry out and shake in response.

“Oh come on, wifey! You wanted this didn’t you?” He grins slamming it harder and harder, the fake balls slapping your clit as you felt each of the prosthetic veins grazing against your velvety walls.

Even when you used it by yourself it never felt this good, the way it slammed into you to the hilt with such force almost felt like it was Satoru’s cock fucking you and not a fake one.

You sobbed into the pillow pathetically and you try to look over your shoulder, your hand flying out to clasp against his wrist.

“W-wan’ your dick ‘Toru” His free hand pins your arm behind your back and pushing you deeper into the mattress with a breathy laugh.

“Oh please, you didn’t have this problem last night did you? You seemed satisfied you don’t even need my cock, baby.”

“I-it was a mistake! I-I’m sorryyyyyy!!” You scream out as he thrusts the toy again without warning, your walls clamping and twitching around it in surprise.

“Ohho! Now you’re sorry? Last night you weren’t, weren’t you? Said you’d never apologise, huh? Look how pathetic you are. Cock drunk off a toy! I know you’re close, come on wifey!”, he delivers a sharp spank to your ass making you gasp out a whimper. His smirk widening as your ass ripples under his hand, a large red handprint etching its way to mark your skin.

“Yeah.. You can do it..that’s it!” he mocks as your slushy cunt squelches and fills the room up with a lewd shwap! Your cunny was so loud it was taking Satoru everything in him to not slip his boxers down and slam his stiff cock deep inside of you till his pelvis kissed yours.

You could feel your high creeping through your body, like a floodgate about to break through. Your body felt hot. Too hot. Adrenaline coursing through your veins like wildfire, your tummy clenching and thighs shaking.

The pleasure building up from your abdomen slowly taking over your entire body with each slam of the toy, it felt like it was getting deeper if that was any possible. You shakily cry out his name, your sweet arousal covering his hands, dripping down to his wrist. If anything you don’t think you’ve ever been this wet before.

“Cmon..cum for me baby..you know you want to..” He coaxes out and that’s the last thing you hear before your velvety walls are clenching around the fake cock, eyes rolling back and seeing pure white.

Maybe you’ve just seen heaven? Or are you in heaven right now? Your body shakes and goosebumps erupt all over your skin as a white ring now forms around the dildos base, as Satoru keeps riding your orgasm out; white strings connect the whole bottom half of the dildo and connect it back to your soppy hole.

Satoru laughs at your pathetic hole clenching around the dildo needily. “Look at ya. Made the dildo white from how much you came, baby” he whistles out, slapping your ass a few times again watching as your cunt twitches in response to each spank.

Your breathing slowly starts to even out and your body relaxing, cunt still quivering and sensitive around the dildo still stuffing you full. Without warning satoru slams the toy in a fast and deep pace causing your back to arch and making you scream out in surprise.

“W-Waaiitt!! Satoru-! Give me more time! Too-sensitive-ah! Angh!” You desperately whine out and he laughs in response at your pleases, “Nah uh.” He thumbs your ass putting pressure against it causing you to gasp out a yelp.

“Hmm? Sensitive here?” He grins, his cock twitching in his boxers at the fact his thumb was bigger than your little hole. He tries to push his thoughts down..but the temptation to use the dildo in your hole and fuck your needy cunt with his leaky cock was itching through his veins.

He swallows thickly and circles the hole with his thumb while slamming the dildo at a brutual pace, your squeals and moans getting louder than before, the dildo going fully white now as your slick and release from before connects strings from your puffy hole to the toy.

Your body clenches up again, toes curling and abdomen tightening as your cum. Again. Your body hot and electricity running through your veins, you cum hard on the toy as you shiver and shake, Satoru chuckles darkly before not slowing the pace down; if anything angling it in different spots and elicting sounds you never thought was possible to come out of your mouth.

It doesn’t even feel like it’s been 30 seconds later before your cumming on the toy. Hard. For the third? Fourth? Fifth time now? You’ve lost count. You tiredly turn your head to look at Satoru and feel yourself freeze up. He looks so menacing.

Like he could just destroy the whole of Japan in a blink of an eye and not even care. The way his eyes are drinking you up and looking down at you with so much hunger made arousal pool in your stomach, your walls fluttering around the toy.

“I know you wanna fuck me Toru- cmon..give in.. stuff me full pleaaaasseee! Wan’ t’ be full of y’r cum..” You wiggle your ass to egg him on and fuck. You don’t even register when the dildos out of you. The next thing you feel is his warm, thick cock sinking deep into you. You blink and notice his blindfold hanging around his neck, his blue eyes shining; looking feral.

Fuck. You might’ve fucked up. “H-Hold-on-!” You gasp out but it’s too late, he’s shoving your head in the pillow and pinning your arms behind your back as he pounds into you roughly. Balls slapping against your clit and pelvis slapping against your ass making such lewd noises you’d only hear in porn.

The rooms filled with skin slapping against each other, the pure sound of his cock swishing around your insides and both of your desperate gasps and moans. The room felt hot. Too hot. “Yeah. Fuckin’ take it.” He babbles out, cheeks and ears flushing.

“That’s it. Yeah…fuckin’ hell look at ya squeezing the life out of my dick.” Your walls unconsciously squish around his cock at his words making your hips push back against his, meeting his thrusts with desperation.

“Fuck..you’re so needy..even after I made you cum more than thrice on your little toy. Not as good as the real thing, hm wifey?” He pouts at your lack of response and with his free hand and lifts your head up by your hair, “Speak up.”, You whine and gasp in response, any words you try to say are replaced with screams and moans.

He stills inside of you, “Speak, cmon.” “W-why-did you sttoooppp!!” You whine out, “Answer my question. ‘M not playing around, babe.” He gives a harsh thrust as a warning; making you jump in surprise, “N-noo! Your cock is shoo! much better! Alwaysss!- Angh-ah-oh!” You’re cut off by his sudden harsh thrusts, “Good girl..” He grunts out, angling his hips to hit riiighhttt on your g-spot making your legs jump with each thrust.

Shit. His mushroomed tip was kissing your womb perfectly with precised precision. Each angle was being thrusted in on purpose, you don’t even register him letting go of your arms till you feel his blindfold tie around your wrists.

“H-Huh-?!” You sound out and he grunts in response feeling his cock twitch against your gooey walls. Fuck. Seeing you helpless beneath him, shaking and screaming his name with his blindfold tied around your wrists. His. Blindfold.

The same one he wears everyday. Fuck he could just cum right now and fill you up so full. “G’na stuff you full..you’d like that wouldn’t you, huh wifey?” His veins felt like they were on fire, lightning coursing through his veins. Fuck. He could hollow purple the entire world besides the both of you right now. The thought of you carrying his child.. Letting the entire world know he’s the one who was deep in your guts and knocked you up..

“T-toru- inside!” That’s the last thing he hears before his cock is stuffing your velvety walls full of ropes and strings of his thick cum, his cum filling your needy pussy up till globs of it drip out to the sheets bellow the both of you.

You haven’t felt so full in a week. You don’t even register when you covered his cock in your messy release till you feel Satoru thrusting again, your walls clamped around him like a vice, “J-just- came- t-toru-! Please-!”, “F-fuck- you’re squeezing so tight, sweets, relax, I know you- ah!- want more-hnnghh!” Satoru whimpers out, his hand coming down to push the lewd bulge in your stomach.

You blearily turned over your shoulder to look at him and fuck. When did the lights go out and shatter? Fuck were all of japans lights out right now? How you might wonder?

When you make eye contact with Satoru his eyes are glowing in a feral manner, that gives you the answer to your question. He looks like he could wipe out the entire world in one blow from how animalistic he fucked you.

His hips keep pounding into yours without any sign of stopping, his cock trying to burst out of your stomach at this point.

“M-mercy-! Please- mercy-!” You stutter out and Satoru’s eyes narrow, “Now you want mercy? Yesterday you didn’t care what happened, huh? Shut up and be a good little wife for me and just take it, ‘kay?” With that he shoves your head back into the pillow and you shiver in response feeling his gooey tip nudge your insides, each motion making your cunt impossibly louder.

Each slam of his hips had your body reeling, sobbing his name, it felt like electricity coursing through your veins each time his cock bumped your g-spot effortlessly. You scream out whimpers and moans helplessly, just lying there and taking whatever Satoru gives you.

“F-fuck..g’na fill you up again, hah- you’d like that, huh?” Satoru whimpers out, too cockdrunk to respond you make a sound out sounding between a scream and a gasp. "Wanna knock you up baby…they’ve been demanding a heir you know.. plus-hah- want the world to know you’re m-mine and I-i was the one who fucked a kid into you-shiiit!” He babbles on, you felt like you were on the verge of losing your consciousness.

The orgasms Satoru’s pulled out of you tonight was astonishing. Before you could slip away into unconsciousness you felt your body lose its fatigue and…you felt perfectly awake..? Satorus hand clenches in your hair and lifts your head up to pull you into a messy kiss, teeth clashing against each other and tongue penetrating your throat.

“Heh- used reversed cursed technique on us-hah- we got allllll night, baby!” You couldn’t even respond before his lips are sealed back on yours, your heart thumping against your chest and a sudden rush of energy shooting through your body.

Fuck. You felt your muscles clench once again and moan into Satorus mouth feeling his release fill you up. That pulled the trigger for you. Before you could even process it, the coil in your stomach snaps and you didn’t cum, no, you squirted messily alllll over Satorus cock, thighs and pelvis.

You part from the kiss, body shaking and moans slipping past your lips. “Fuuccckk you squirted! All f’me, wifey?”, you hazily nod your head in response, flopping back onto the sheets bellow you.

You try to crawl away from Satoru and his merciless hips but unlucky for you he doesn’t stop dragging his cock against your walls, gripping at the sheets bellow you to propel yourself forward.

You freeze when you feel a laugh and yelp in surprise when you’re dragged back towards him, shoved onto your back and knees to your chest. When did he flip you over? Your heart thumps in realisation eyes boring into his glowing orbs. “W-wha-?!” You manage to stutter out, “Don't run from it now, wifey! We have an heir to make..”

You were completely and utterly screwed.

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ

Masterlist<3

Au Masterlist<3

Thank you so much for reading<3

Tags!

@my-own-au-my-way

[ghost-kings-court-jester]

Thinking about Astarion who has like no actual solid idea about camping or being a human coming up with a clever plot to make himself as useful to the group as possible - (so they’ll keep him and enact his revenge, not because he likes them and wants to help duh) - by bringing back his kills to the camp and leaving them for the camp chef to use.

Like literally just plopping them down, drained dry, right outside Gales tent. Starting with a hare or two, then a boar, a whole deer, that one bear maybe.

Meanwhile Gale certified Cat Dad can not figure out if this is:

(A) A sign of affection

(B) Astarion showing off how well he can provide for him in a weird bizarre vampiric courting ritual or

(C) Like when the mafia gives you a horse head.

It doesn’t help that Astarion is always watching his reaction like a Gods Damn Hawk across the camp EVERY SINGLE TIME.

So it just results in like Gale spiralling about the implications and coming up with ways to cook all this weird ass meat so as to not offend Astarion.

Then it becomes a way to possibly show off himself - even though wait Astarion can’t eat - what if that was actually rude of him? - maybe the bear was threat or maybe he is just over thinking it.

But what if it is a courting ritual? Should he should be finding a way to make his blood palatable and leave bottles outside Astarions tent, or what if he’s wrong and he’s over thinking it and it’s definitely a threat.

All the while Astarion is just oblivious thinking he’s scored a wizard for fighting Cazador without sex and so what if he starts giving the wizard part of his loot as well. That’s just to to keep him on his side and to be sure the wizard doesn’t explode unless Cazador is in the room. He must really be actually getting the hang of this whole being part of camp thing.

That’s totally why he sits avidly at the camp fire and watches Gale cook and eat the meals he provided for him. That’s just good camping. He isn’t obsessed with the wizard and his happy little smiles and food wiggles, don’t be crazy.

[ticifics]

𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

── james potter x f!reader

warnings n tags: smut without plot, mdni, cockwarming, est. relationship, no use of y/n, p in v

The sound of the rain was occasionally drowned out by the rumble of thunder, the sky so thick with gray clouds that there was barely any light filtering through the windows. The room was still dark, plunged into shadow. Your body flinched as a flash of lightning illuminated the room, a sigh escaping your lips.

“Shhhhh, it’s okay,” James murmured, pressing you more firmly against his chest, gentle hands sliding down your back, groaning as he felt your walls squeezing him. His fingers tightened on your hips as you threatened to writhe again, keeping you still. “Fuck, no. You can’t do this, doll.”

Frustration burned beneath your skin, every muscle in your body begging you to move your hips, desperate for any friction, any relief. “S-sorry.” You whimpered, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as you felt your pussy clench again, as if it wanted to hold him there forever.

Eyes closed, you pressed your face against his chest, your breath coming in shaky gasps as you tried to fill your lungs with air. You knew you shouldn’t do this, that the more you begged, the more arrogant he would become, but you couldn’t swallow the words, not when your pussy was throbbing wildly around his cock.

“Jamie, p-please—”

His fingers tightened, pulling you tighter against him. The small movement caused a small friction that made you gasp. You tried, really tried to roll your hips, but his grip was steely, almost painful, sure to leave marks. You looked up, searching for some mercy, but all you found was an unyielding gaze. His jaw so tense it could cut through a diamond.

“Stop. It,” he hissed, eyes narrowing as he watched the desperation etched on your face. How you had become a little thing thirsting for his cock.

You bit your lip, the first tear rolling down your cheek like a pearl bead as you shook your head, your walls contracting even more, squeezing him as if your life depended on it. “I-I can’t.”

A growl scratched his throat. Fuck. You were squeezing him so, so much, it was delirious. His eyes trailed down your face, admiring the way your eyelashes were damp, your mouth swollen and parted, your face flushed. Desperate for him. He should make you suffer more, he knew you could take it, but there was something about seeing you like this, hungry, crying for his cock, that made him more merciful.

James lifted a hand, his thumb wiping away the salty trail the tear had left on your skin. “This is so pathetic, we’ve barely started and you’re already crying.”

You looked away as his words hit you, but James cupped your face, watching as your bottom lip trembled. More tears brimmed at the corners of your eyes. Something in him softened at seeing you like this.

He knew you were close, could feel your walls fluttering around him, trying to pull him deeper. But he was determined to make this last, to savor every second of your delicious desperation. You were so receptive, so hungry for his touch. It made him feel powerful, invincible.

James leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke in a low, raspy voice. “You’re being such a good girl, taking me so well. I know you want to move, love, want to fuck yourself on my cock until you scream. But you have to wait for me. Wait until I tell you to come.”

He punctuated his words with a hard thrust of his hips, burying himself even deeper inside you, the head hitting the spot that made you see stars. A low moan tore from his throat at the exquisite feel of your tight heat enveloping him. He was addicted to the way you made him feel, the way your body accepted him, embraced him, like you were made just for him.

Your eyes rolled back, whimpering again. Your body trembled in anticipation, but he didn’t move again, remaining buried to the hilt in your greedy cunt. “J-Jamie,” you began again, your voice frail, small, trying to get some friction, but he remained still, holding you tightly against him.

He shook his head, looking at you with a mix of sympathy and cruelty. “You need to learn to be patient, love.”

He tightened his grip on your hips, keeping you still as he slowly ground his pelvis against yours. The head of his cock kissed your cervix with each small movement, making you gasp and shiver. He was being deliberate, tormenting you with the slightest hint of stimulation.

“Such a greedy little thing, always so hungry for more,” James teased, his breath hot against your ear. "But you'll get your reward if you can be a good girl and wait until the rain stops."

[ineedtherapydesperately]

desperately wanna write a childhood friends to lovers au w chloe and red in the timeline where bridget never goes evil and is still besties w ella

like imagine all the hangouts and sleepovers they have, crying and whining when they have to be separated because red, dear, we really must return home or chloe, love, we've been in wonderland for a week already

imagine little chloe bursting into her parents' bedroom declaring that she'll always be red's knight in shining armour, because every princess, especially a crown princess, needs a knight to protect her and ella and christopher just KNOWING that chloe is gonna stay by red's side forever and ever

so they start planning the wedding with bridget, thrilled to have the opportunity to bring their families even closer together. they're gonna be in laws! a family, just like they've always dreamed.

imagine little red telling her mum that chloe has a really pretty smile and really pretty eyes, and it makes her happy to see chloe happy, and that chloe is the bestest friend in the whole wide world and bridget has to stop herself from squealing and pinching red's adorably flushed cheeks, because her daughter was so in love already, even if it was just puppy love. that doesn't stop her from screaming gleefully into her pillow later that night tho

imagine them growing up together, attached at the hip, never straying from the other's side. imagine them going to auradon together, everyone already knowing that red and chloe, chloe and red, are a package deal. you can't get one without the other, a known fact since the duo were old enough to travel through the rabbit hole on their own

imagine chad walking in on them cuddling, watching a movie and cooing at them, snapping pictures on his phone before they notice him, yelling at him to leave them alone. alright, alright, I'll leave you lovebirds alone and red flushes in mortification and shut the fuck up chad, we're completely platonic and you know this because little miss goody-goody would definitely be rougher around the edges, growing up with red, and she'd definitely cuss up a storm at chad, but she loves him, she swears, just maybe not as much as she loves red

imagine them going through all the motions of a romantic relationship, cuddles, cheek kisses, hand holding, cute dates and all that, but insisting that it's just platonic, and that's how they've always been because they're best friends and their parents are so very done with them, just praying for them to get together, and chad has even started a betting pool for when they'll realise they love each other. he thinks it'll take them until at least their second year at auradon prep - at least, it'll take chloe that long

imagine chloe and red having matching lock screens, and having each other set as their home screens as well. imagine red baking chloe anything she asks for, like peppermint cookies and flamingo feather cupcakes and blueberry muffins, because chloe, her princess, her knight, has a raging sweet tooth that red can't help but indulge every time. imagine chloe taking red on ice cream dates, because red LOVES ice cream, and refusing to let her pay for it because red was a princess and deserved only the best treatment, thank you very much and red has to point out that chloe, you're a princess too. but, red, you're the crown princess and im your loyal knight <3

imagine red finally realising her feelings and ranting at the council of parents because holy shit aunt ella, your daughter is so dense?? and christopher can't help but cringe because he knows exactly who chloe got that trait from and he's like I'm sorry but while we charmings are quite, charming, we're also quite oblivious, especially to matters of the heart and bridget can't stop laughing because darling, you may need to hit her with glass shoes for her to figure it out, which makes ella blush because that's exactly what she had to do that night at castlecoming

god I have so many feels about this I am totally normal about glassheart. final part absolutely inspired by @strugglingsapphic's recent post bc I love the idea of oblivious chloe not knowing shit

[studioeisa]

im here to harrow you.

thinking about f1 minghao crashing out on radio…. idk why… its burned in my mind…

crash and burn 📟 minghao x reader.

★ mercedes driver!minghao x reader ┆ word count: 1.8k ┆ includes: profanity, slight Trivia 承: Love reference. ┆ footnotes: oh, you are CRUEL for preying on my hyperfixation like this. how i ended up writing this much is anybody's guess.

For a moment, the entirety of Mercedes falls quiet.

You could hear a pin drop. The pit wall, the operations room, the garage. Deathly silent. 

Xu Minghao never swore on the radio. 

He could have. He’s certainly had his fair share of instances where a cuss or two would have been acceptable. The time he crashed into Williams’ Vernon on the final lap of the Australian Grand Prix, for example. Or the Singapore race where he ended up in the barriers after battling his teammate, Wonwoo, for podium position. 

Minghao hadn’t cussed then. Everybody liked to joke that his face often did the talking for him— his expressions post-race landing him on the front page of every sports media outlet. 

The Chinese racer was calm, cool, and collected under pressure. Critical without being cruel. Demanding without being demeaning. 

And yet, today, in Monaco— 

“Why do I have the penalty?” Minghao screeches, his voice crackling over the radio. “Hello?”

“Track limits, turn nine,” his race engineer says, voice carefully measured.

“You’re kidding!” Minghao downshifts aggressively as he rounds the next corner. The tires wail, the car jolts, and the telemetry lights up with data that makes the pit wall wince. “I stayed within the white line! You saw it, everyone saw it!” 

The pit wall scrambles. Engineers replay the footage frame by frame, dissecting every pixel of the contentious corner. The commentators speculate wildly, cameras cutting to Minghao’s onboard view. Sky Sports plays the radio message on repeat, the words for fuck’s sake! echoing through living rooms worldwide.

But Minghao doesn't care about the broadcast. Doesn't care about the headlines already being written. His pulse hammers, hands locked around the steering wheel like a vice.

“Box this lap, Hao. Serve the penalty,” the team calls. “Then push. We can still fight for points.”

Minghao murmurs something incoherent, though it doesn’t take a genius to guess that it’s probably another curse. He lifts off the throttle, coasts through the last sector, and dives into the pit lane. The Mercedes crew swarms the car, stoic and efficient, every second ticking down with excruciating slowness. 

The lollipop stays down.

Ten seconds feel like an eternity.

Minghao slams the throttle as soon as he’s released, launching back onto the track with a cloud of tire smoke.

“Gap to P10?” he demands, his tone unusually biting. 

“7.3 seconds to Boo. But DRS is enabled—” 

“I can catch him,” Minghao decides on his engineer’s behalf. 

Nobody doubts it, really. 

Minghao takes the next lap like a man possessed. Nailing apexes, brushing curbs, deploying battery in the perfect spots. Purple sector times flash on the screen; the crowd roars as he slices through the field like a scalpel.

Clean. Precise. Ruthless. 

Minghao pushes right past Alpine’s Seungkwan, who screeches into his own radio about this reckless man, trying to kill him with the way he faked to the outside. It doesn’t matter to Minghao. Not when he’s through. 

“P10, Hao,” his engineer says, relief bleeding into his voice. “Keep it up.” 

“Don’t—” Minghao cuts himself off. Everybody can more or less guess what he was about to say. Don’t tell me what to do, he had planned to snap, and it only drives the team into a deeper state of confusion. 

It’s even worse in the press room. 

Minghao sits in the middle, flanked by Aston Martin’s Seokmin and Red Bull’s Jihoon. Minghao’s Mercedes suit is still speckled with sweat, and his jaw is tight, hands clasped in front of him on the table.

The moderator introduces them. “We’ll start with questions for the drivers. First, to Mercedes’ Xu Minghao. P9 after serving a 10-second penalty. Can you walk us through your race?” 

A muscle in Minghao’s jaw ticks. Not a good sign.

Minghao leans into the microphone and very simply states, “It was bullshit.” 

Again, that stunned silence. Seokmin balks like he had been physically struck. Jihoon fights back a grin. 

The moderator blinks. “Uh,” she stammers. “Could you elaborate on that?” 

“The penalty,” Minghao says plainly. “It was bullshit. I’ve seen the footage. I stayed within track limits. And even if I hadn’t, we both know there were other drivers exceeding limits all race who didn’t get penalized.” 

A reporter from BBC Radio pipes up. “You’ve been known for keeping a cool head in difficult situations, but we heard your radio messages. Do you regret your reaction?” 

The question draws a humorless laugh from Minghao. Today, his wit is razor-like in its sharpness. The claws are out, so to speak, as Minghao answers the query. 

“Regret? No. I regret not pushing harder after the penalty. I lost ten seconds and still clawed my way back to points.” He pauses, letting the fact sink in. “What does that tell you?”

Somebody from Fox Sports pushes the envelope. “Are you implying bias in the stewarding?” the journalist calls out. 

Minghao’s eyes flash, making even the most fearless of the media personnel shrink back a bit. 

“I’m saying there needs to be consistency,” he hisses. “That’s all.” 

Mercedes’ PR manager shifts uncomfortably in the background; one can assume they’re already drafting damage control statements in their head. The list of people to apologize to only grows when a ballsy ESPN journo dares to ask, “Do you think this will affect your relationship with the FIA?” 

There’s no reason for the FIA— the Formula One’s governing body— to be dragged into this. Or maybe there is, with the way Minghao is crashing out in public. 

The racer smiles coldly. “Maybe,” he answers, “but I’m not here to make friends.” 

“Okay,” the moderator interjects. “I think it’s time for us to move on—” 

Minghao concedes, leaning back into his chair and pushing the microphone over to Jihoon. There’s the slightest of miscalculations, though, when Minghao grumbles something to the Red Bull driver.

The microphone catches Minghao’s snide side comment, supposedly meant solely for Jihoon’s ears. “You should ask the FIA why they’re so scared of drivers who fight back,” the Chinese driver huffs. 

The room explodes. Minghao doesn’t flinch. 

Mercedes’ PR manager accepts that it’s going to be a long, long night. 

Even Wonwoo doesn’t have an answer for his co-driver’s uncharacteristic behavior. The driver frowns when the team principal brings it up. 

Wonwoo runs a hand through his dark, sweat-slicked hair, as if reviewing what he witnessed pre- and post-race. “Hao was already a bit… off when he came in this morning,” Wonwoo admits. “Maybe he woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something.” 

“Drivers like Minghao don’t just wake up one morning and decide they’re going to be the devil reincarnated,” the team principal says tentatively. 

Wonwoo takes a moment to contemplate. “Trouble in paradise, maybe?” 

“Drivers like Minghao—” 

“Don’t let their personal lives affect their racing,” Wonwoo finishes before waving his hand dismissively. “Well, I don’t know, then.” 

Except— for once— Wonwoo is right. 

The team doesn't press Minghao to celebrate, not when he’s a walking PR disaster in a foul mood. He heads straight back to his apartment, shedding all his rage on the way home. 

It’s the only reason he manages to gently open the front door. He toes off his shoes at the doorway and shrugs off his hoodie, each action deliberate in its intent and slowness.

He finds you in the kitchen.

You’re seated at one of the bar stools, forearms leaning against the island. Minghao doesn’t come close. Not at first. He lingers a couple of steps away, stock still as the two of you lock gazes. 

You open your mouth. Minghao beats you to the punch line. 

“I know,” he says, his voice the most gentle it’s been the entire day. “Trust me, I know.” 

“I wasn’t going to tell you off.” 

Minghao lets out a derisive snort of laughter, though he’s quick to look chastised when he catches the shift in your expression. “Alright,” he says tiredly. “What were you going to say, then?” 

You hop off the stool. Minghao holds his breath. 

He still feels like he isn’t breathing by the time you’re standing right in front of him. Where others might hesitate, you don’t. 

Your hand reaches up to cup Minghao’s face. Your palm is warm against his cheek, but your words are much warmer. 

“I was going to apologize,” you say slowly, enunciating each word, “for breaking rule number three.” 

Rule number three. To have it brought up now is comedic. Minghao thinks of the restaurant tissue framed in the living room, the one bearing the silly list the two of you had jotted down when you first started dating. 

The very rule you’re referring to right now had been in Minghao’s loopy handwriting, underlined twice to emphasize its importance. 

#3: No fights on race weekends. 

It had come with an asterisk, a couple of caveats. Still, it was one of those ‘rules’ the two of you tried to see through the most. For not only Minghao’s sanity, but Mercedes’ as well. 

Minghao sighs, the tension in his shoulders easing with the heavy exhale. He can’t help it; his cheek nuzzles into your palm, seeking the familiarity of your touch after being without it last night. 

(That was his choice, admittedly, after he opted to sleep in the guest room instead of your shared bedroom. He left in the morning without all of his usual routines— his 30-minute guided meditation, his good luck kiss from you.) 

The fight— God, what was the fight even about? Minghao is embarrassed to admit he can barely remember. 

By the way you’re looking at him, though, it looks like you’re also ready to put it past the two of you. 

“Did you watch?” he asks. 

The corners of your lips twitch upward. “What’s the right answer?” you shoot back, half-teasing as Minghao’s arms gingerly wrap around your waist. 

“I think I’d prefer that you say ‘no’,” he says wryly. “I was a monster out there. I’ve got so many people to apologize to.” 

You give a low hum of approval. Minghao tugs you into his space until he can bury his face in the top of your head.

For a moment, the two of you bask in the aftermath. The bittersweet race, the shaky reconciliation. Minghao breaks the silence. 

“I said fuck,” he mumbles, horrified, “on the radio.” 

“You did,” you confirm. “Twice, actually.” 

Minghao groans. “And at the press conference—” 

“You told the FIA they could take it up their a—” 

“I did not,” your boyfriend says shrilly, “say that!” 

You break out into giggles. Minghao can’t help it; his arms tighten around you, and he holds you like he’s trying to erase the past 24 hours through touch alone. 

Tomorrow, Minghao will be back to his usual self. He’ll play the PR game— waxing poetics about mental pressure, apologizing to the FIA for his conduct. He’ll pay the fines and promise to do better, be better. 

Tonight, Minghao softens all his edges and loves you. 

[coffeetank]

Opposing Qualities for your Characters!

I always advocate the concept of Traits and their Inverses when making characters. If you're familiar with my blog, you'll know that in one of my posts, I've told you to use opposing qualities when you make a character to make them real. Here's a link to that post if you haven't come across it yet so you can understand this better: https://www.tumblr.com/coffeetank/747126821111447552/build-characters?source=share ~ List of more opposing qualities to give your characters: persuasive :: manipulative (your character has a way with words and sometimes uses this to get away with things)

humble :: underconfident (your character does not have an ego at all, but they are in actuality always underconfident - show how this can affect their surroundings especially in a situation where others depend on them)

independent :: alienated (your character can do everything on their own and quite literally does not need anyone around, show how this can crossover over with alienation - dig into the emotional background of this supposed crossover)

curious :: invasive (your character has an appetite for knowledge, but they forget boundaries - show how this can get them into trouble)

daring :: reckless (your character has a strong spirit and isn't scared of taking risks, but this can always incline to the bad side and cause them harm - use this to especially add event and conflict in the story)

neutral :: retracted (your character prefers to see both sides before coming to a conclusion and stays neutral 99% of the times, but then when one side needs them more than the other they refuse to acknowledge that need and pull themselves out of that situation - show how this this can affect their relationships with other people especially on a moral ground)

emotional :: irrational (it's always good for your character to have emotional capacity, but it can hinder with their practical side for sure - show how this plays out)

unique :: aberrant (your character has a very solid personality but then some their quirks are too odd to be normal - this is good for revealing an undercover villain/agent/supernatural being later in the story as a twist)

optimistic :: unserious (your character is a positive person, but they take life too lightly sometimes - play with it!)

appealing :: deceptive (your character is absolute delight to be around and wins hearts in an instant - show how they use this power of their to deceive people for their own benefit)

hopeful :: expectant (your character wishes for the bright side - show how this can transverse into having unfulfilled expectations thus making them act out wrongly due to disappointment)

clever :: cunning (as obvious as it sounds, your character uses their intelligence for the wrong - bonus if you mix this with another set of opposing qualities to add depth and layers to your characters)

short-tempered :: violent (easy, simple and impactful; your character loses temper quickly but they damage things around them with every small/big outburst)

Feel free to use these as you'd like! I'll bring you more soon.

-ashlee

[etherealily]

𝙴𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙴𝙴𝙽 // 𝙉𝙁𝙅!

My other Nate fics. If you have the time.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. SFW, but discretion advised. Drugs.

I don't know if this is milder or darker than the previous parts, but I do know that it is LONG.

Part 1 : Whiplash Part 2 : 9 Lives Part 3 : Blessed Part 4 : Shards Bonus Chapter : Sin

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : You're fun and you're wild, but you don't know the half of the shit that you put me through

═════════════════════ 🧿 ════════════════════

TUESDAY, LIBRARY, 4 PM.

"We need to talk."

Suddenly, Carl Jung had never been more interesting, your eyes unable to rip away from the words on the paper in front of them, ignoring Nate as much as possible.

Your shoulder suddenly jerked, and a soft whisper followed. "Hey. We need to talk."

Frowning, your eyes darted between the two Jacobs brothers, the looks on their faces not strict, but the most infuriatingly stoic gazes mankind had ever known.

"You had quite a weekend, right? Anything crazy happen?"

The real question Aaron was asking was whether you were going to talk about it.

"Nope, just lots of psych homework."

"See, this is why I'm telling you to drop Psych. Unnecessary stress.", remarked Nate, his fingers rapping on the table in an almost musical pattern. Almost, because music is art, and there was nothing artistic about the false smile he was giving you.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"How are the rest of classes going?" Small talk?

"Great. Chem is pissing me off, though."

"Eh, well, only nerds are good at Chem, and I don't fuck with nerds. So you're lucky."

Oh, thanks, man. Such an honour.

"Are you good at Chem?"

"I pass."

"Where'd you get time to study? What with all the vapes and parties and quote-unquote 'dozens of bitches'?"

He let out a breathy laugh. "I got good work-life balance.", he replied, leaning on his arms closer to you. His head tilted and you knew something psychotic was about to happen. Well, it was Nate. You knew something psychotic was about to happen the second he walked in.

"I'll bet."

He smiled at that. "Are you my friend, Y/N? Are we friends?"

"I don't think so."

"Good. We're on the same page.", he hissed, moving in closer, glaring at you with the same eyes that had been acting as a dam to his true emotions two nights ago. "You can't tell anyone." His fingers deftly twirled your hair around before tucking it behind your ear.

"About?"

"Saturday."

"How you threw a lamp at me?"

"What you heard about my Dad. What he wanted to... what he said. What you learnt about our family."

"I won't."

"No, seriously, Y/N, don't fucking play with me right now. You'll regret it if you do."

"I'm not playing around, either. I'm not going to tell anyone."

"Good.", sniped Aaron. "'Cause we'll fucking ruin your life if you do."

"Aaron.", whispered Nate, shaking his head. "She already said she wouldn't."

"And you trust her?! She walked in with this polite girl attitude and then when shit got tough, she yelled at you with Mom just a room away. And you told me she wanted to fuck Da-"

"Aaron, shut the FUCK up, okay? She said she isn't going to, so she won't." The glares were back on you, an unwelcome blanket in the heat of tension.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want to have to say stuff about you , too."

"Aaron, I said fuckin' drop it."

"No, she gotta know what's at stake, or she's going to take this shit lightly."

You could almost see the vein pop in Nate's head.

"Nate, what... what stuff?"

"It's nothing. Just... we needed incentive.", he muttered, shrugging.

"What incentive?"

"You're buddy-buddy with a drug dealer, Y/N.", he continued, although, to his credit, it seemed with a little reluctance. "And he has access to a lot of shit, right? Who knows if he's ever slipped something into your drink and... y'know."

"What the FUCK? What the FUCK, NATE?"

His idea of incentive was making you a rape victim?!

Being shushed by the librarian solidified your thirst for homicide.

"I mean, you fucked Shane voluntarily, so you're already a fuckin' whore.", he declared, shrugging again as if he was just stating that the sky would be lit up by fireworks on the Fourth of July. "Maybe he just thought it would be easier, without all the playing-hard-to-get-shit. You're close enough that he trusts you to watch over his store."

"You can't FUCKING be serious! FEZCO WOULD NEVER FUCKING-"

"How sad, you're in denial.", tutted Aaron, pouting. "How would you know? He could have used shit stronger than Rohypnol, ya know? Shit that could knock you out cold for hours, and maybe he even called a couple of his trapper buddies-"

Aaron shut up quite quickly when your knuckles met his jaw, but started cussing you out when Nate pulled you off of him. "We're just saying, Y/N, you don't tell anyone the truth of that night, we won't tell them the lies about Fezco."

You pointed your finger at Nate's chest, hoping to god that that would distract him from the rage-induced tears pooling in your eyes.

"You're a fucking coward, Jacobs. With a pervert dad. A fucking coward who can't admit that he has no idea what the fuck he's doing."

"Big words coming from a girl that was raped by her dealer."

OH, someone needs to euthanize this motherfucker.

FUCK. NATE. JACOBS.

TUESDAY, 9PM

Nate had no fucking clue why he was doing this.

He was just drunk, he supposed. Drunk and horny. Average teenage experience.

But it's like.. he could've done anything. ANYTHING else. He could've actually gone to the party, picked up some girl, screwed her into the bed.

But no.

He sat there, scrolling through the fucking SlutPages. For who?Shane's sister, maybe, because of the inexplicable hatred he'd been feeling for him for about a month that he couldn't really think of a reason for? You would think, wouldn't you?

He looked for you.

There was no way you were a virgin. But he should've known there was also no way you were a slut. Or at least, that you were smart enough not to end up there.

He almost fucking threw the phone onto the wall. Fuck.

And you'd blocked him. That was the problem. He couldn't even text you. And he didn't have your fucking phone number, Jesus fucking Christ, he should've gotten it! Relying on something as flimsy as social fucking media was stupid. Idiot.

Wait. Social media.

He quickly slid his chair over to his computer, his hands moving with a pace and mind of their own.

No fucking way would he admit this, but his brother... had some good ideas, once in a while.

When he was fourteen, he'd been wide-eyed, watching through the crack through a door as his older brother -17 at the time- created an account, some random username, some girly bullshit, and then gone Incognito, finding a picture to add.

And then he watched as his brother spent hours poring through pictures of girls - at the time, Nate's seniors- and then suddenly sigh.

"You know, you breathe like fucking Darth Vader?" "What's that?", he'd asked, ignoring that comment and padding over to sit next to him. "This account? I'll tell you, but it- it's like... private brother shit, ok?"

"Shit". What a novel word that was at the time.

"Okay." "Spit-swear it, runt."

He spit-swore. A thing he never fucking did again.

"You can use it. Whenever you're down bad for a chick but you're blocked." "Why would a chick I'm down bad for block me?" "You're so obviously fourteen."

And god fucking damnit, was he.

Not that he was down bad for you. But all he'd say is if this wasn't love, it was pretty fucking close. Why you enthralled him, no clue. You were so easy to rile up, but hard to push too far. You always seemed to be limitless.

He logged in.

Good, the loser, Crestin, posted a story.

Good, you were there in the background.

Great, you were hot.

Bad, you were drinking. Tequila. Wasn't that you and Nate's thing?

Of course, he wouldn't presume to have taken your tequila-V-Card, but he most definitely would have assumed that you'd associate tequila with him. With that night. He'd assumed you'd stay away from it, metaphorically forsaking him in the process.

But no.

Shane's tequila was non-traumatic, and apparently delicious. Ugh.

This simply would not do.

TUESDAY, SHANE'S PARTY, 11PM

"No, NO, GET the FUCK away from me!", you warned, pointing a finger at him. You should've taken his advice and learnt to shoot. "I'm warning you, Jacobs!"

Shane's party was meant to be the one place you could be to avoid Nate, seeing as the host was some sort of Nate-repellent, but NO, you'd just apparently underestimated Nate Jacobs once again.

And here he was, his hand gripping your wrist - just like the rope you wanted to grip his neck - and glaring down at you as if you'd just killed his entire family but he was mildly turned on by it.

"Y/N, just fucking listen! Just- stop causing a scene! Fuckin' LISTEN!", he ordered, grabbing your shoulder with one palm and pointing at you with the other hand, to stop you from writhing away from him.

"You can't just do what you did last week and then expec-"

He kissed you. What did he think this was, fucking Disney Channel?

"NO! NO!", you shouted, shoving him away and secretly hoping for a car to hit him as he stumbled back.

No such luck.

It really was the world according to Nate, wasn't it?

"You know it's okay, right? It's alright."

"What?"

"It's okay to want me.", he informed you, as if he was telling you it was okay to sing in the shower.

Everyone does it. It's like, a thing, relax.

"It's okay.", he continued, "People want what's bad for them all the time.", he murmured, his thumb tracing your lip like he was tracing out a line he wanted so desperately to cross. "It's human nature."

"You think I'm bad for you?"

He took a deep breath, as if he was about to tell you you were terminal. "I think you're good for my soul. Like a baptism without the water." His thumb moved further into your mouth, just barely grazing your teeth.

"Even you have no clue what that meant, admit it."

"It's called effect, Y/N. Drama. Intrigue. Doesn't have to make sense."

You stared up at him, waiting for elaboration, and that earned a huff from him as he looked around at the other people in the front yard - doing lines, making out, throwing up - before turning back to you. "No, honey, I don't think you're bad for me. In fact, I think you're unnecessarily good for me."

"Unnecessarily?"

"As in, I don't need your energy."

"Then why are you so insistent on being around it? 'Cause you want to fuck me?"

"No! Jesus. It's in the name, Y/N. GOOD luck charm. You help me do GOOD in my games. You're good energy."

"What's next? You gonna tell me my birthstone?"

"Oh, shut up.", he chuckled, shaking his head as he moved your jaw from side-to-side in what seemed to be a playful gesture, but at this point, could very well have been him trying to ascertain which cheek to shoot into or something. "You got your licks in. We good?"

"Good? No. NO. We're not good! You threatened someone I love, so no fuckin' way are we good!"

"I know, I know. Aaron wanted me to-"

"BULLSHIT!"

He sighed, as if you were his deranged relative who was climbing up some telephone pole.

"YOU just can't handle the fact that I saw you almost fucking cry! I caught you weak, and that's a power shift, and you don't FUCKING like it, do you?!"

His jaw ticked for a moment, but he managed to let out a mix between a scoff and a chuckle. And then, as if what you said wasn't quite literally exactly what he was feeling, he asked, "Are you done?"

"NO, I'm not fucking done! I still haven't got to the part where you threatened to accuse him of rape, which is a fucking terrible thing to joke about in the first pla-"

"Look, man, I don't have time for this shit, okay? I'm not hurting Fezco! I came here so I could tell you something."

"My GOD, Nate, you made your point! I won't tell anyone!", you groaned, snatching a drink from some already-tipsy guy's hand and downing it.

"That's totally hygienic.", he remarked, eyes finally tearing away from you as you both watched the drunkard stumble over a girl who was getting rid of her lunch and breakfast in the bushes.

"I got new incentive.", he murmured, his forehead against yours, and his thumb rubbing your cheek as if it owned land there.

"What, now you're going make Shane out to be a rapist, too?"

Not a bad idea, actually. The corners of his mouth curled down, and he scanned your face as if he were actually thinking about it, eliciting a tsk from you.

He hid a chortle as he continued. "I'm offering you a deal. You were right, back at the bleachers about the control thing."

He was about to ask you to sell your soul, you could fucking feel it.

"So... you get to control me. For however long you need. Like, a month, a week, whatever. Just don't tell anyone about my family."

Whoa. Plot twist. You did not expect him to sell his soul.

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure. So if I asked you to show up to school naked?"

"Yes, I'd show up to school naked for you. But it's funny seeing me naked is your first instinct."

His trust issues were suddenly working out in your favour- he was essentially offering himself up as collateral.

"If I ask you to announce a formal apology to me on a bullhorn before your game?"

"I just want you to leave my family alone, Y/N."

So that's where Nate Jacobs' humanity began. At his family. Noted.

"I promise. I'll do anything." The urge to say 'then die' was strong, but not invincible.

You wracked your brain looking for something you could make this psychopath do that would not cause him immense pleasure.

"Ah, see? Being the one in control isn't all it's cracked up to be. Too much power, and you don't even know what to do with it.", he taunted, pouting as he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead harder against yours. "Think. What is it you want from me?"

What the fuck did you want him to do?

"Do you want an apology? No, 'cause I've already given you plenty and you don't want meaningless things, do you?" His lips lightly touched yours and you could swear he smirked when you flinched on reflex.

But no. That wasn't what you wanted. He was spot-on.

"You want... do you want money? I'm a trust fund baby, essentially, right? My father basically owns the town. Sure, I could hook you up. Royal Enfield, BMW. Or, if you want, Chanel? But that won't cost me anything, at least not emotionally, yeah? So no. That's not it, either."

Why did you suddenly feel like your thoughts were transferring into his head?

"You want me? You want to cut me up, just like I forced you to watch me do to myself? You want to hold a gun to my throat like I did to you? No, because I'd low-key like it."

Yes, he would. So no, you didn't want it.

"C'mon, think. I'm at your mercy, I'm all yours. There's definitely one thing you want and you're just too much of a pussy to say it."

Why were you letting him do this? Why did you just accept that it was the world according to Nate?

"You wanna know what I think, huh? Huh? I'll tell you what I think.", he murmured. "I think you want me to care."

That got your attention. "Care?"

"I think you actually want me to give a shit about you, so you can justify to yourself why you keep lettin' this happen, don'tcha?", he asked, thumb rubbing your jawline. "You want me to stop acting like this whole thing between us is a game. You want me to acknowledge what I'm doing to you."

You hated this. You hated when men were right - it was ridiculous. And you absolutely despised when Nate was right, because it was dangerous.

"Look, I just want you out of my life, Nate.", you lied.

That had come out way too fast. That was the easiest thing he could do. That was the kindest thing you could have ordered him to do. That was mercy.

So why was he acting like you'd just asked him to jump into a fire?

"That's it?"

He didn't buy it. And neither did you. Because yes, you'd technically be very reasonable to want him out of your life. But no, the danger, the unnecessarily sexy amount of mortal peril you'd be in every second that you were around him- it was your fucked up version of heroin.

"I don't think you understand just what you're asking. You're going to miss me."

You scoffed and he shrugged, in a gesture that only seemed pitiful, as though he were allowing you to believe that for the time being.

'Denial isn't just a river in Egypt, baby', you could almost hear him snark.

"What if I miss you?"

You shrugged, downing another shot - one you'd stolen from a drunk girl this time. "I dunno. Just don't."

"You'll still come to games? Fist-bump me?"

"Still come to games? I guess, maybe? I'll high-five you, or something."

"I'll think it over." Wait, wasn't he the one who was making an offer?

═════════════════════ 🧿 ════════════════════

He found you almost fifteen minutes later, probably after mulling it over with a drink.

"I accept your terms. I'll go out of your life, starting Monday. However, I've got a little som'n som'n to show you.".

An AK-47? An atom-bomb? A grave he dug specially for you?

"It's a surprise. Only an hour. That's all I'm asking."

Only your sanity. That's all he was asking.

You'd promised yourself you'd never take anything from Nate Jacobs again, and you'd stuck to it.

I mean.

That was until he'd offered you molly.

Molly made you happy.

Molly made you forget stuff, like college apps, the loss of your internship and the fact that you'd basically been lying to your family the entirety of last week about the scar on your forehead.

But how he'd found that out was a question for the ages. And he seemed to know exactly what molly did to you.

And you best believe he was milking it.

"I want to get a tattoo."

"Okay...?"

"Correction : I want us to get a tattoo.", he whispered, before tsk-ing at your derisive snort. "C'mon, you get to draw whatever you want on me and I'll get it tattooed, I promise!"

"Tattoos are permanent, Nate."

"And you know what? So am I. In your life. In your head. On your lips.", he reminded, grinning mischievously, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth.

You barely fought against him - the ecstasy sprinting through your blood vessels - and you found yourself lying back on the grass, his hands bracketing your hair.

"Just fucking draw something on me, Y/N. Come on. And I'll draw something on you. Yeah? Sound good?", he asked, his hand creeping up your shirt with surprising reverence.

He chuckled breathily against your lips, shaking his head as he rolled off you, lying next to you.

"I'll draw something nice and meaningful. And you get to, as well. Nothing cheesy, though. Like a fucking arrow-heart or an anchor or some shit."

"How about a star?"

"What, a star is not cheesy? That's the cheesiest thing ever. That's the pussy tattoo.", he muttered, before looking up at your eyes, sighing magnanimously. "What kind of star?"

"The ones that are hard to draw. With all the lines."

"Really, Y/N? I give you the chance to mark my body up and you want the hardest thing to draw from second grade?"

"Where'd you want it?"

"Where will you be willing to touch me?"

That was a million dollar question. Willing is a very subjective term.

"Neck. Under my ear."

You nodded, taking the pen he'd brought and gently tracing out a couple stars under his neck. He played with some of your hair that had fallen in front of his face, with terrifying dedication, as you did so. "Yeah. Done. You actually getting this tattooed?"

"Now you.", he ordered, grabbing your wrist, not answering the question. Red flag number eleven thousand. The pen lid in his mouth and a focused furrow to his brow, he began drawing.

"Infinity symbol.", he informed you, before you could even ask.

"Why?"

"I dunno. It's meaningful. 'To infinity and beyond'. Favourite Disney Movie, right?"

"That is not my favourite-"

"Yeah, well, it's mine. Buzz Lightyear is like, my hero.", he muttered, rubbing his thumb over the drawing and then kissing it softly, all while looking at you.

"Really? You seem like a Big Hero 6 guy to me."

He laughed deeper. "You always take me so seriously."

"Fuuuck, I know I'm not supposed to say this..."

He lolled his head over to you. "You could tell me you're Ted Bundy reincarnate and I'd still smash."

You decided to ignore that comment. "I'm not supposed to say this, but... but I get why Rue did it. Like Jesus fucking Christ."

He nodded in understanding, looking at the tiny packet that still had a couple pills in it. "She was just too weak to limit herself. But we got no limits. You got infinity on your wrist."

"Look, Nate, I can't tattoo that shit. My family would kill themselves."

"Same."

"Then why did you-"

"We're gonna do something that could go either way. It could either freak you out or turn you on. On the off chance that it's both, then we're more similar than you realize.", he slurred, lazily brushing hair behind your ear. "'Kay?"

"What are we gonna do?", you asked, trying your hardest to pull away, but the ecstasy made you genuinely defenceless against human touch. And it didn't help that Nate was holding your arms tightly down on the ground, as if he were trying to plant roots.

"We're going to carve the tattoos."

He said it so conspiratorially. As though this was your secret to surviving the zombie apocalypse. And his fucking eyes. Glowing like fireworks. Glowing like a child finally being told he could get what he wanted for Christmas.

"WHAT?!"

He licked his lips with an almost roll of his eyes as he looked up at you, because you were so clearly overreacting, right? Slitting your own skin in the shape of an infinity on it was a perfectly normal teenage activity. Of course. Drinking, smoking, fucking, slicing.

"I'll do it. I'm experienced, as you know.", he scoffed, his lips at your shoulder now. "We only have about fifteen minutes left of your curfew, Y/N, please. Please? Play nice."

The molly was clouding your senses, clearly. You could tell because a) you were still having this conversation and b) you didn't even question how he knew what time your curfew was, and c) you hadn't punched him yet.

"Think about it, it's less permanent than a tattoo, baby, please."

And then he placed another one of those little pink pills on your tongue, pressing down and forcing you to swallow.

MONDAY.

The scream came too late to your liking.

You'd tried to scream faster, but everything had come rushing back to you. The fever dream was not a dream. It's always relieving when terrible 'realities' end up only being dreams. It's a different kind of terror when you realize that the nightmare was real.

The number eighteen was etched on your wrist like a pathetic mark, like... like a brand.

You couldn't even begin to figure out just what the fuck that was supposed to be. Eighteen? How was that meaningful? The year it becomes legal to have sex? Freedom, maybe? Joy?

He wanted this aneurysm in your head. He'd placed it there.

FUCK !

FRIDAY.

"What? What is it you want?!"

He frowned, his face softening out of genuine confusion, making him look almost comically harmless in the harsh stadium lighting. "You said you'd still fist-bump me."

"What does 18 mean?"

He shrugged, holding out his fist. You rolled your eyes, bumping it with your own. And then, after telling yourself you were imagining the ghost of a smirk on his lips, you froze. Because he'd turned, running off to the middle of the field. You saw his back.

His jersey. 18. FUCK. He blew you a kiss about two seconds before the ball was passed to him. 18. FUCK.

"Did you just fist-bump Nate?"

"Yeah."

"Why?", asked Maddy, scoffing softly.

"He was talking to me about the project and then he said he had to go, so I wished him luck and... I guess I fist-bumped him."

"Oh, yeah, ew, the project. How's that going?"

"I scrapped it."

"Why?", she questioned, after shaking her pom-poms and screaming out some over-enthusiastic cheer.

"I don't fucking like him. At all. He's a DICK."

"What? No way. I had no idea.", she muttered sardonically, slinging an arm around your shoulder. "But was it, like, really bad?"

You nodded.

"After the game, you wanna do molly?"

"No." The reply was almost immediate.

"You don't wanna do molly? Don't bullshit me. Shut up. You're doing it with me."

You'd have hugged Maddy for knowing you so well if you weren't so focused on the big, blue, number 18 running on the field, matching the big, red one staying still on your wrist.

FRIDAY, 9PM

Staying over at Maddy's was an offer you shouldn't have declined, because it was getting genuinely infuriating how Nate found out things.

You were still extremely lacking in sobriety when he'd crawled into your bed that night, covering your mouth to make sure you didn't scream. How? Million dollar question.

"You want me to tell you a secret?"

"A secret? Wait, not some bullshit about my lips that you came up with?"

"I listened to Queen."

You sat up. "WHAT?"

He chuckled, sitting up as well and tilting his head while resting it on his knees. "What? Elvis, too. I even watched Blue Hawaii. I low-key liked it. Why? Would it have changed your mind?"

You frowned for a moment, before shaking your head. "Still would've been nice to know."

"Okay, how about you just kiss me now, Rue 2.0?", he asked, tracing out the number eighteen on your wrist before looking up at you through slightly furrowed brows. That was a challenge, of sorts, that gaze.

"You have something to ask me." Didn't take a genius to figure it out. Insinuation was painted all over his face. He had an accusation and he needed you to defend it.

"When Shane fucked you, where'd he come?"

You frowned, staring at him for a moment. "Yo, I- what? Where is this coming from?"

"At practice he was saying he fucked you."

"He's a dickwad, of course he did."

"It doesn't bother you that he's spreading that shit?"

"If I paid attention to every rumour some butthurt, fragile-ego jock spread about me, I wouldn't have time to fucking study."

"Your reputation's gone, though. That's fine for you?"

You sucked on your teeth for a moment before exhaling. "You're here to find out if I'm easy?"

He looked at you for a moment, his expression unreadable.

"If I did this, Y/N, would you stop me?", he asked, shifting to his knees at the foot of the bed. "Hm? If I just...", he trailed off, kissing up your knee to your thigh.

"Nate. Stop."

"That's not stopping me.", he murmured, gripping your back and yanking you closer.

You kicked him away, grimacing. "Get out."

He gazed up at you, and for a moment there, it seemed like he was rooting for you, for the rumours to just be cruel rumours and not true.

"Get OUT!"

"You can't let me kiss you and then just... it doesn't work like that."

The world looked glittery and he looked godly kneeling down there.

His tongue licked slowly up your inner thigh. "C'mon. Take it off. It's just me."

"Get out."

He rolled his eyes, yanking your shorts down himself. "I fucking...", he murmured, voice muffled against your skin. "Love you."

"You don't fucking love me!" You were struggling but it was fruitless.

"I could."

"Get out, I'm not bullshitting."

"C'mon.", he murmured, reaching up to unhook your bra before pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. "C'mon."

"No! Get off!" His hand held you down.

"Just let me-", he muttered, his fingers finally removing your underwear as he pressed a chaste kiss higher up your thigh. Your breath hitched and his smirk widened, albeit, with a bit of disappointment. "There we go."

Kicking him away, you finally snapped. Maybe it was the molly. Maybe it was his tongue. Maybe it was the fact that he'd somehow found out that molly made you make extremely bad decisions. Maybe it was the fact that he knew you wanted nothing more than to fuck him that night.

"GET THE FUCK OUT, NATE! YOU SAID YOU'D LEAVE ME ALONE MONDAY, IT'S FRIDAY! GET THE FUCK OUT, PLEASE!" He took every kick and every punch like a total champ, you'd give him that.

The disappointment left, and he smiled, softly, caringly, like a mother hanging up her child's drawing on the fridge, as he wiped your tears away.

Standing up, he grabbed your hair, staring into your eyes so deeply you were half-wondering if they'd changed colour, before patting your shoulder. "I'm proud of you."

Proud for disproving a rumour?

You watched his shadow on your wall as it climbed down the window behind you.

Look, one thing could be said. Nate Jacobs was a man of his word. He did not speak to you. He did not text you. He did not acknowledge you.

You'd blocked him online and he'd blocked you in real life.

However, his other account still kept tabs on you.

Average social media interaction.

Shane Crestin ended up in the ER later that night.

Average Nate Jacobs interaction.

[orphicmusings]

idea — kinda canon divergent, viktor and reader are childhood friends, he makes it to piltover and she doesnt. they leave on a sour note, have a huge falling out. when he starts to need shady things to further progress on his projects, he starts going back into zaun, he starts seeing reader again. incredibly hostile. something happens cant figure out what. she offers him a shred of kindness. for old times sake. then boomshakalaka. and then it becomes a routine for viktor to cross the bridge even more to come to reader for whatever reason wink wink. very it will come back coded

[olivianott]

EQUALS

ꕤ deatheater!Theo x deatheater!femReader

ꕤ warnings: dark Theo, dark reader, happy to be Death Eaters, unprotected sex, explicit content, not for minors, 18+

ꕤ all characters are adults

ꕤ pure smut to be honest

The door bangs against the wall as you stumble into your room with him. You don’t bother turning on the light, locking the door, or muffling the room. Let them all hear. Neither of you cares for the other Dark Lord’s servants living in this mansion right now.

“Get your fucking clothes off, I can’t wait a second more to be inside you, amore.” Your Death Eater masks lay discarded on the floor next to the bed already.

“Yes, oh Merlin yes, it makes me so hot seeing you be so evil and cruel on a mission.” You say while you rip away Theodore’s death eater robes and start grabbing at his chest, your nails scratching against his abs, all the way down to his pants. You both fall on the bed, you underneath him, fumbling with his belt buckle, him sucking on your sensitive nipples with a hand down your panties.

“So fucking wet for me, amore.”

You just returned from an “errand” for the Dark Lord in Knockturn ally. This was your first mission, Theodore already way more experienced in the Dark Lord’s dealings than you. No one died this time, but all the dark magic dripping off of you and Theodore made your head spin and your cunt drip. The feeling of the dark magic and sex in the air, mixing with his scent, made for a heady combination that left you feeling high.

You finally discard all your clothing and Theodore picks you up and turns you onto your knees, with your hands holding onto the headboard, sliding all the way inside your pussy in one move. You scream with delight as his cock fills you up perfectly, sending shivers through your whole body. You have to really push against the headboard to not be banging your head against it and instead pushing against his powerful thrusts. He is feral. Groaning behind you, bruising your hips with his hands, tugging your body back and forth on his cock. The heady feeling and the sensations in your pussy reach a peak and suddenly without warning, you fall apart on his cock, screaming his name over and over into the thick air of your room as he doesn’t even slow his thrusts.

„Fucking hell, you are unreal diavolina. Your pussy is hugging my cock as tightly as the dark essence of your magic intertwines with mine when you cum. Your soul is as dark as mine, at last.“ You love this poetic feral side of Theodore so much. He is still pounding you into the mattress since your hands gave up on holding on to the headboard, the top of your head banging against it now. He notices and slows down, so you use it to flip him onto his back sitting up against the headboard.

Reaching down beside the bed you pick up Theodore’s mask. He is looking up at you sitting up on him in awe. He looks like he can’t believe you are here, on top of him, your pussy rubbing on his twitching cock on his stomach while clenching in anticipation. You put his mask over your face while taking his cock inside again, sitting all the way down on him. He releases the loudest growl you’ve heard from him yet, his eyes rolling back inside his head, hands clenching around your thighs, marking you again.

You put your hands on his throat, wanting to be in control for a change, on top of him, wearing his mask, making him whimper with need looking up at you. He gives you one moment of that, until:

„Fucking hell, you little devil, you know what it does to me, seeing you in my mask?“ One of his hands goes up to your neck, grabbing you by the throat and holding you in place while he starts fucking you from below, your hips slamming up and down on his. Your arms can’t reach his throat any more so you lean back, grabbing around his ankles with both your hands, your body stretched beautifully in front of him, tits bouncing with every pound. The position makes Theo’s cock feel so big, rubbing against the sweet spot in your pussy, you feel like going crazy from the pleasure. “… too much.” You whimper.

With one hand still against your throat, his other hand grabs your breast, squeezing painfully, but you love it.

„Shhh… You can take it, cara. Feel the darkness from the mask penetrate your entire being. All that dark power, the darkest magic, it’s exhilarating, isn’t it, amore?“

And he is right, you feel so powerful, his equal, even though he holds you and manipulates you on top of him however he wants to, slamming your hips up and down on him, admiring your body on top of him. He uses his thumb on your clit, while his movements get erratic and grunts get louder and louder: “Ungh… amore, cum again, cum with me my dark queen, I want to see you cum on top of me like this.“ And in no time at all you cum, in an explosion of darkness, feeling the last deep thrusts of his cock as he falls over the edge with you, into the dark abyss of pleasure.

You feel so much dark magic floating around you, caressing both of you in a cocoon of black smoke, two dark souls intertwined for eternity.

I have absolutely nothing to say for myself at this point. Happy october.

As always, thank you for reading, hope you liked it.

If you want more: 🖤here🖤

Divider by me: @hereindreamlandpng