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reduxulousoctopus · 3 days

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X-Men '97, Post-Episode 7, ~2500 words Morpherine established relationship, missing scene (unless the show actually does explore what happened during that fight, in which case boy is there egg on my face).

I follow established show canon by referring to Morph as he/him in diegetic works (fanfic and fan art) and they/them in non-diegetic works (my episode analyses and reblogs), because that's the stupidest option and, like Morph, I am also an enby with a terrible sense of humor.

Now come watch me struggle to write two whole lines of dialogue for one of my favorite characters in the series, Beast, because Me Too Stupid to Write Smart Talk Good.

“You wanna explain what the hell happened back there?”

Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the question, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan glaring back at him with an expression as hard as the adamantium underneath it. Although it’s a look he’s seen plenty of times before as an innocent bystander, Morph has only been the target of that glare on a handful of occasions. Usually when he’s severely fucked something up. Or when Logan is completely out-of-his-mind, cuckoo-bananas worried about him.

Morph suspects that this time, it’s a little Column A, a little Column B.

A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph smirks and asks, “What, the Summers Family Reunion? Well, you see, when a man and the clone of his wife love each other very much…” Morph chuckles. “By the way, this might be a bit creepy to say as one of his honorary uncles, but Baby Nathan grew up to be a serious hottie—emphasis on serious.”

No laugh. Okay, maybe that wasn’t his best material, but not even a lip twitch? Logan must be pissed.

Morph sighs and slouches in his seat. God, he doesn’t want to talk about this right now. Or maybe ever. He can feel his throat literally closing up to stop the words from coming out.

When enough time has passed that what little patience Logan had left in the tap completely runs dry, he goes right for the jugular: “I thought you were dead. Again.”

Morph winces.

“I saw that… ‘Trask Sentinel’ blow your goddamn head off. Then, next thing I know, you’re up and walkin’ around like nothing happened.”

“Not that you’re complaining, right?” Morph asks with a weak attempt at a laugh. “You know what they say about gift horses. Although, you’d think the lesson from the Trojan War would be that you should look gift horses in the mouth.”

From the seat behind him, Morph hears: “Although it’s a common misconception, that phrase actually has nothing to do with the Trojan Horse. The proverbial ‘gift horse’ is a literal, living horse, and to look it in the mouth—”

“With all those books you read,” Logan grumbles, “I thought at least one of them would've taught you it's rude to eavesdrop.”

“It would be difficult not to overhear, given the two of you are speaking quite loudly in a confined space while surrounded by people,” Beast points out. “Have you considered that this perhaps isn’t the best venue for a private conversation?”

“He is a super-genius. We’d better listen to him,” Morph tells Logan. “We’ll talk later, okay big guy?”

The stubborn set of that heavy jaw says Logan knows damn well ‘later’ means ‘never,’ and he isn’t gonna let Morph weasel out of this that easy. “If you ever want me to let you off this plane, you’ll talk now.”

“Let me?” Morph scoffs. He transforms into Quicksilver, puts on his best smug speedster grin, and says, “Just try and stop me, slowpoke.”

To his shock, Logan actually flinches. It’s a subtle thing, Morph might not have even noticed if he didn’t know Logan so well. The cause eludes him, however—until Morph remembers that he looked like Maximoff when the Thrask Sentinel… when everything went dark and quiet for a few seconds.

Funny. There was a time when Morph, blinded by youthful naivety and hero-worship, would have insisted Wolverine wasn’t afraid of anything.

Returning to his default form, Morph mutters out an apology. He tries to imagine what it would be like to see Logan die, only for him to get up a few seconds later and act like nothing happened. With that healing factor of his, they’ve gotten damned close to that exact scenario more than a few times.

How much worse would it feel, if Logan had kept his quick-healing abilities secret and Morph had to find out the hard way?

Morph takes a breath, looks out the window at the black clouds rushing by, and starts from the beginning.

“You know how most of us don’t know we’re mutants until we hit puberty, and our powers manifest? Well… I didn’t have to wait that long. Problem is, since I was just a baby, I had no idea how to control my powers—no more than a normal baby is born knowing how to walk or talk.

He holds out his hands with his palms cupped together to form a shallow, makeshift bowl.

“When I was born, I looked like a wriggling lump of white clay, about yay-big. No arms or legs, no face, no ears, no eyes. Just a mouth that would appear somewhere on my body whenever I was hungry or wanted to cry.”

Whatever Logan was expecting to hear, from the look on his face, it clearly wasn’t that.

“But even at that tender age, someone clearly recognized my star potential. I was only two days old when I made my media debut: Severely Deformed MUTANT Born In Pittsburgh Hospital.” Morph shrugs. “Not the most positive review, I’ll admit, but you know what they say: all publicity is good publicity. After all, that’s how the professor found me.”

Logan’s frown returns, more confused than angry. “You told me you didn’t meet Xavier until you were thirteen—after your mom passed.”

“That’s when I moved to the Institute. Turns out we actually met quite a lot earlier than I remembered, which is pretty embarrassing. Ideally, you don’t want to meet your future high school principal, college instructor, mentor, and world famous civil rights leader while wearing a diaper. Even worse, I was wearing a diaper, too—and I told him, mister, one of us is going to have to go home and change his outfit and it sure isn’t going to be me.”

That gets him a smile and a huff of a laugh, which would be an encouraging sign if he didn’t know how the story ends.

“So Xavier talked to my parents, explained the whole ‘mutant thing.’ Dad wasn’t happy. Then again, I’m not sure he ever was. He would have been disappointed to have a girl—a sentient lump of polymorphic biomass was right out. Thankfully, Xavier was able to use his telepathy to coach me through my very first transformation. He showed me how to turn into a normal baby boy, who would eventually grow up to look like this.”

Morph transforms into his old default, the one he still uses whenever he wants to pass: pale (although not that pale) skin, brown eyes, brown hair, hooked nose, pointed chin, gaunt cheeks, arched brows. Not exactly Fabio, but it’s the face Logan used to know him by—the face he sometimes worries Logan might secretly still prefer.

“Then he put some psychic blocks in place to limit my powers to something a bit more… manageable. Don’t give me that look. It sounds shady, but the professor messing with my head was the only reason I got to have a normal, happy childhood with my parents. God only knows what would have happened otherwise—if I’d even be alive now.”

The worry and suspicion that appeared on Logan’s face at the mention of psychic tampering grudgingly fade away. “When did you find out?” he asks instead.

“A couple months after the professor… y’know,” Morph sighs. “I hacked his personal files. Since he wouldn’t be around anymore to help you recover your memories, I hoped that maybe I could find something small he overlooked, some clue that might give us an idea where to look next.”

Logan’s eyes widen and his mouth goes slightly slack. “Morph…”

“I didn’t find anything, before you get excited. Not about you, anyway. Sure found out a lot about myself, though—a lot more than I was bargaining for.”

“That’s when your default form changed,” Logan realizes.

“Yeah. It was kind of hard to think of this,” Morph replies, gesturing at the face of his human-passing form, “as my ‘real’ face after that. Not that my new look is any more real, of course.”

“Who else knows?”

“Other than our friends listening to this conversation right now?” Morph asks pointedly, causing an entire plane full of X-Men to each make their best attempt at looking busy. Nightcrawler’s method of peering thoughtfully at the radio controls with one hand on his chin is particularly masterful—Logan mentioned he used to perform in a circus, so it’s no wonder he’s got such a good instinct for stage-business. “I told Hank and Moira not long after I found out. Seemed like a bad idea to keep that information from my doctors. Especially when one of them is also my therapist.”

At receiving a glare from Logan, Beast develops a sudden and convenient fascination with the view through the Blackbird’s window.

“But you didn’t want anyone else to know.” Logan could accept that, even if he doesn’t like it. Nothing personal. A man’s business is man's business, after all—even for a not-quite-man like Morph.

Too bad it wouldn’t be the truth; no more ‘real’ than any face that Morph wears.

“I didn’t want you to know.”

Morph can handle Logan’s anger, no problem. That’s almost charming, after all these years. But it’s the flicker of hurt, just like that little flinch earlier, that really cuts him to the quick.

“Not because I don’t trust you, or want to keep things from you or anything, it’s just… I didn’t—I couldn’t—”

He sighs and looks away again. He transforms back into his new default: smooth white skin, mask-like face. Obviously inhuman.

Still a lot more human than he looked when he was born, though.

“So, yeah. That’s why I’ve apparently gained the ability to survive having my head blown off. It sure would have been handy to know that my organs were optional the last time a Sentinel put me down. Now, instead of being out of commission for two years I’ll never get back, I can just squish myself back together and keep on keepin’ on.”

Logan doesn’t respond, and slowly, the mutter of other conversations step in to fill the void. Morph stares at nothing, sick with nerves. It’s deeply unfair that he can still feel nauseous even though he doesn’t have a stomach anymore.

He would say it’s all in his head, but if he can survive without one, maybe he doesn’t have a brain, either.

Badum-tch.

Good line. Hopefully he’ll remember it after the existential horror wears off, in the brief window when things will be funny again before the heartbreak sinks in.

Because there’s dropping a bombshell on a relationship—then there’s dropping a fucking nuke.

Oh God. There isn’t going to be a window, is there?

“Morph. Look at me.”

Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the command, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan looking back at him with an expression as soft as the heart he usually tries to hide.

“No matter what you look like, there’s one thing you’ve never been able to change,” Logan tells him. “That’s real enough for me.”

A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph can’t stop himself from opening his big stupid mouth. No wonder that was the one feature even Baby Morph knew to give himself. “There are more blocks Xavier left behind that I haven’t pushed through, yet. Maybe I’ll even figure out how to change my scent, someday.”

From the look on his face, Logan clearly hadn’t considered that possibility. Morph immediately wishes he could take it back, feeling like he’s just tarnished something sacred.

It’s always been strangely intimate, the way Logan can recognize him by scent alone. Even from the beginning, when Morph decided to pull a prank on the grumpy new recruit, only for Wolverine to sniff him out mere seconds into his planned routine—it was as if, like the Emperor’s New Clothes, he suddenly realized he had been naked the entire time.

Another, smarter shapeshifter might have avoided Logan after that; Morph couldn’t get enough.

One-sided pestering turned into an unlikely friendship, turned into friends-with-benefits, turned into… whatever they have now. That which dares not speak its name.

The thought of losing that connection, the idea that someday he may be able to change himself so thoroughly that even Logan won’t be able to recognize him anymore… It’s too awful. Cursed knowledge. Like learning about the solar cycle when he was a kid, and suddenly having the horrible realization: if even the sun is going to die someday, what makes him so sure Mom will get better?

Out of the corner of his eye, Morph sees Logan’s hand start to move, stop, then start again, reaching across the aisle towards him. For a insane, terrifying moment, he thinks Logan’s about to hold his hand, outing them in front of God, the other X-Men, and everybody—but of course, that enormous, rough mitt lands on his shoulder instead. Perfectly platonic, approved for all audiences by S&P.

Though they’re shooting through the air at supersonic speed, under the heavy weight of that hand, Morph feels rooted to stable ground. He closes his eyes and takes a few slow breaths he doesn’t actually need, with lungs he only has when he remembers to make himself some.

If there are any people left when the sun finally burns out in a few billion years, they’ll still be telling each other jokes as they go into that endless good night. Just think of the money we’ll save on sunscreen. Maybe, but you know the light-bulb companies are gonna take us to the cleaners. Ha ha, freeze frame, theme song, end credits.

Even as her body slowly wasted away under the combined onslaught of cancer and chemo, Mom always laughed at his jokes, no matter how many times she heard the one about the chicken who crossed the road. His most appreciative audience, to the very last curtain call.

The world is pretty fucking scary right now, and only getting scarier. Sinister. Genosha. Losing Gambit. Sentinels again, in all new and even more monstrous forms. Even worse: total war between humans and mutants looming over the horizon, shaking the ground with each step, getting closer and more inevitable every time someone mentions it, like a demon whose power grows every time you says its name.

But just because things are scary doesn’t mean the world's turning into a horror movie, and just because things are sad doesn’t make it a tragedy. Everyone gets to choose the genre of their life story—and Morph will always pick comedy.

He gives the hand on his shoulder a friendly pat, and uses the motion to disguise a slightly more-than-friendly squeeze. “I’m alright, just a little airsick. I think it’s making me maudlin.”

As he pulls his hand back, Logan frowns a little in confusion—he knows Morph is experienced enough in the air that he shouldn’t be getting nauseous over what are, for the Blackbird, barely above pleasure-cruise speeds.

“How unfair is that, by the way?” Morph asks. “I don’t even have a stomach right now.”

Logan chuckles. Nah, baby, don’t give it up for me that easy, Morph thinks, fighting a grin. You gotta make me work for it a little…

He needn’t have worried, though. When he does make it to the punchline, Logan laughs so hard that he snorts, the laugh-lines Morph has personally carved into that seemingly indestructible face creasing and growing deeper still. And as their friends who Definitely Weren’t Eavesdropping join in—even Rogue, so teary and congested that her laughs would sound like sobs if she wasn’t smiling—Morph knows all their attempts to hide their relationship have been for nothing, because there’s no way that all the love he feels for Logan in that moment isn’t writ large all over whichever face he's wearing right now.

That’s real enough for him.

#x men 97 #x men #morph #wolverine #morpherine #my stuff #wait what this actually ended up good #have I actually been a good writer this whole time and just too depressed to notice?#what the fuck that's not fair

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winchestershiresauce · 7 hours

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Dandelion Wine

Summary: When Halsin joins Gale and Tav in the bedroom for the first time, they all get more than they bargained for. This is a tale of intimacy, multiple orgasms, and trying new things.

Gale x f!Tav x Halsin; Halsin x f!Tav; Gale x Halsin; Gale x f!Tav

7851 words

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Smut, M/F, M/M, polyamory, oral sex (f and m receiving), squirting, unprotected PIV, processing trauma, insecurity, discomfort interrupting sex, come eating, so much more

A/N: I think I left a piece of my soul in this fic - let me know if you like it! Comments and reblogs always much appreciated.

The first time Halsin joins them, Gale insists that he only wants to watch. Despite being intellectually on board with multiple relationships, he’s worried that his body will remain firmly in the monogamous camp. He loves Tav, and he trusts her with every fiber of his being, but it still feels overwhelming and a bit scary to imagine sharing such a vulnerable experience with anyone other than her. Hells, he still finds himself feeling self-conscious in his most intimate moments with her, through no fault of her own.

Before Halsin arrives, Gale paces back and forth through the room. He and Tav have discussed seemingly every aspect of the situation to death and back, but he still feels like he is about to jump from great heights with no backup parachute.

Tav walks into their room at the inn with an armful of water carafes and fruit. When she sees the tension in Gale’s body, his shoulders nearly at his ears, her smile fades to a look of concern. He’s thankful that it’s not a look of pity – he’s not sure he could handle that at this moment – but a loving glance with worry behind her eyes.

“I’m afraid they’ll charge us extra for damages if you wear a hole in the floor with your pacing.” She sets the drinks and snacks down on the table in the corner and strides over to where he’s now frozen in place.

“I’m sorry, my love. I know that we’ve been planning this for weeks but I can’t help but find myself feeling terribly nervous. Granted, I’m also excited. I want to see how everything will go, but the nerves won’t settle.” Tav brushes a strand of hair out of his face and tucks it behind his ear. He melts into her touch.

“My silly wizard, there is nothing to apologize for. It’s perfectly natural to be both excited and nervous about something, especially something that’s so new to you! In fact, I’d be more concerned if you weren’t nervous at all. This is a big step and no matter how it goes, some things will change. However, I need you to remember that your comfort and security are just as important as mine and Halsin’s, so I need to be sure that you’ll speak up if you want anything to stop or slow down.” Gale sighs and takes her hands into his. His thumb strokes over the soft skin of her knuckles as he ponders his reply.

“I will, I promise. I believe that you and I have practiced enough that I can say what needs to be said in the moment. I know how to stop things and I will do so if necessary.” He brings their hands up to his mouth and places the softest of kisses to each individual knuckle on her left hand. “I don’t want to back out of this if you’re worried about that,” he adds.

“And if you did want to back out, that would be more than fine! There are plenty of other things we could do while we’re here that don’t involve potentially opening partially healed wounds in the name of sexual exploration.” There’s a slight tease in her tone, but he knows she’s sincere. He’s always admired the way that she can still use humor in any situation without taking away from the significance.

“I know, and thank you. I want to reiterate that I want this, I merely need a bit more reassurance than I expected to.”

“Good thing I brought extra, then.” She grins. He’s not sure he’ll ever get over the butterflies in his belly when she looks at him with such kindness and love. She’s the first person – unless you count Tara – that he knows loves him for every aspect of himself and not just his intellect or what he can do for her. Somehow, she looks his flaws right in the face and draws them into her heart.

Just then, there's a knock at the door. Tav doesn't move to answer it yet, searching Gale's face for any minute reaction. “Do you want me to tell him to wait? I need to make sure you're in the right headspace before he comes in.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm okay. I'm ready. I’ll let him in.” Gale places a kiss on Tav’s forehead and glides over to the door. When he opens it and sees the calm and patient smile on the elf’s face, Tav notices how the tension dissolves from his body.

“Gale! You look well!” Halsin claps a hand on Gale’s shoulder and gives him a reassuring squeeze. A grin spreads across the wizard’s face as his body remembers how calm he tends to feel in Halsin’s presence. There's something about the other man that makes Gale feel secure and cared for, which helps many of his worries dissipate.

“As do you, my friend,” Gale greets him and steps aside to let him stride into the room. Halsin approaches Tav, and Gale is surprised that the look of joy and reverence on her face does not spur jealousy but instead spreads warmth through his chest. He adores being on the receiving end of such a look, and he is glad to find that he loves it all the same no matter who brought that look to her face.

Halsin towers over Tav, resting the heel of his hand on her collarbone so that his fingers brush the side of her neck and his thumb can trace the shape of her jaw. “My heart,” he purrs, locking eyes with her as if gazing into her very soul.

She presses her palm against his chest and feels his heart beating strongly beneath her touch. She’s always amazed how he can remain so calm in the face of anything, so in tune with his own body that his control never seems to falter. Her eyes drift closed and he kisses her forehead, unknowingly mirroring the movements of her other lover moments ago.

“My bear.” She melts into him as he caresses the nape of her neck.

Gale watches them from the other side of the room and begins to feel a twinge of something in his gut. They look so happy and he can’t help but notice the way their bodies fit so well together and how natural their every movement looks. He sighs, lost in thought as his mind begins to drift toward the pattern of worry that had plagued him earlier. He’s sure that he wants to do this – wants to give Tav and Halsin a chance to let their intimacy blossom – but he can’t stop the complicated feelings swirling through him like smoke from smoldering embers.

Gale moves past them to make himself comfortable in the overstuffed armchair across from the bed. His arms rest awkwardly at his sides as he watches Halsin’s mouth cover Tav’s. She groans into the kiss, pressing herself firmly into the elf’s hold. Gale’s stirring anxieties and jealousies are interrupted by the slightest twitch of interest from his cock when he sees Halsin’s large hand spread across her ass and press her pelvis into his.

When Tav pulls away from the kiss, eyelids heavy and cheeks flushed, she lets out a deep sigh. The look of longing on Halsin's face is intoxicating and she can't believe that it's for her. She smiles up at him, arousal stirring deep within her. Before she gets lost in him, she knows she must check in with her wizard.

She pats Halsin’s chest once before setting her sights on Gale, biting her lip in an attempt to stop her from overthinking. Crawling into Gale’s lap, she puts her knees on either side of his hips and drapes her arms around his neck. Her eyes bounce back and forth between his before dotting a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Are you sure that you want this?” she asks. She can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek. “There's still time to change your mind.”

The nervousness on his face softens a bit as he does his best to read the look his partner is giving him. “I do want this, Tav. I want you to have fun.” He smiles.

“I want you to enjoy it too, though.” She twirls a strand of his hair around her finger as she scans his face for signs of discomfort.

“I will. I get to watch two of my favorite people get lost in each other in a way they haven't before.” His hands rest against her ribs, his thumbs rubbing against the fabric of her shirt in reassurance.

As she leans in close, her breath tickling the shell of his ear, he can’t resist moving his hands down to settle on her hips.

“Are you sure you just want to watch?” She nips at his earlobe and his fingers reflexively dig into her sides. She grins when she feels him begin to harden against her inner thigh, and Gale swallows heavily but nods.

“For now, yes.” She pulls back just far enough to catch his gaze and strokes her thumb across his cheekbone. He does his best to convey sincerity in his smile, his gaze refusing to waver.

“If at any point you change your mind, don’t hesitate to jump in.” She smirks. Tav scrapes her fingernails along the stubble of his beard on the underside of his jaw as she stands up, reveling in the blown pupils that stare up at her. She feels a hand snake around her waist and warmth envelop her as Halsin steps up behind her. He sets his chin on Tav’s shoulder and gazes down at the other man with a look that Gale can't quite place.

“Yes, please join in the fun if you feel at all inclined.” Halsin’s low, husky tone sends a shiver through Tav and to her core, but Gale feels it too. He can’t deny the way the sensual quality of Halsin’s voice affects him. Gale's eyes shift between their eager faces, and he nods.

“I certainly will, should the desire arise.” His smile is soft and genuine despite the nerves bubbling beneath the surface. Gale places his hand over Halsin’s on Tav’s hip and the two men share an understanding and intimate look.

Halsin pulls Tav back against him and begins peppering open-mouthed kisses all over her neck and shoulder. She strokes her thumb lovingly over the back of Gale’s hand as she feels herself melt into the elf’s hold. Arousal already blooming in her center, she spins in his arms and tangles her fingers into Halsin’s luscious locks. She crashes her lips against his with force. He takes short steps backwards toward the bed, dragging Tav along with him, his long fingers splayed across her lower back. Tav moans as she feels Halsin’s erection growing harder, chasing his pelvis with hers. He plops down onto the bed and pulls her immediately into his lap.

Gale’s eyes flit over the two of them and to each spot where their bodies touch, his mind attempting to process and catalogue all of the thoughts and sensations that run through him. Just moments ago, it had been his lap that she ground herself into. He could still feel the lingering warmth of her where she had pressed herself into him, and his fingers flex in response as if grabbing onto her. Watching Halsin’s mouth latch onto her throat, Gale groans at the sound that escapes her lips. His cock is more insistently calling for his attention, but he wants to wait until his head is on straight before addressing it.

Halsin pulls Tav’s top over her head and growls at the sight of her bare breasts hanging heavily in front of his face. His teeth skate across the skin of her chest and he sucks a nipple into his mouth, causing her to throw her head back in pleasure. Gale’s eyes darken as Halsin kneads her other breast roughly and she drags her clothed core over the large bulge in the front of his pants.

After a few moments of heavy petting, Halsin suddenly stands up, forcing Tav upright with him, and turns them around so that he can push her backwards onto the bed. She lays back and watches him through her lashes as he undoes the laces on her bottoms and pulls them off of her. Gale can’t help but groan as he sees her wetness glistening deliciously in the dim light when her thighs drift apart for the elf.

“My dear magic man, I have no idea how you ever leave that tower of yours when you have a woman this delectable in your bed.” Tav’s breath catches in her throat as Halsin gently caresses her bare thighs with his calloused fingers. He kneads the soft, supple skin there, licking his lips at the sight of her spread out before him. Eager to feel her skin against his, Halsin strips himself bare without much fanfare. Before he does anything more, he turns to address the man across the room: “What do you think, Gale, should I give her my tongue or my fingers first?”

Another groan escapes Gale’s lips and he presses the heel of his hand down into his growing erection, trying to relieve some of the tension and overcome the arousal that threatens to overtake him. “She prefers– t-tongue,” he answers, his voice nearly failing him.

When Halsin suddenly drops to his knees at the end of the bed, pulls Tav to the edge, and slides his tongue through her folds from hole to clit, Gale stops fighting the temptation and shoves his hand in his trousers to wrap around his needy cock. He knows how sweet she tastes and finds he loves getting to watch Halsin finally experience what he's long fantasized about.

Tav gasps at the immense pleasure of her lover’s practiced tongue as Halsin continues to work her over. He presses his face into her cunt like he'll never be able to get enough and sucks her clit into his mouth. It feels so good that she could pen sonnets, if only her brain were able to form words.

Her breaths come shallow and quick as he flicks the tip of his tongue over her sensitive bud, and Gale’s fist tightens painfully around his cock, still resisting the urge to stroke himself. He had expected it to eat him alive to see the love of his life squirming in pleasure on someone else's tongue, but he finds that he relishes taking notice of all of Tav’s subtle, delicious reactions to the way Halsin devours her.

Halsin hums and looks up at Tav from between her legs. Her eyelids are heavy and her mouth hangs open, unable to focus on anything but the delectable onslaught between her thighs. “How’s our wizard doing?” he asks her as his pointer finger teases around her slick entrance. He continues to lap at her wetness with his flattened tongue, but his eyes are watching her face. Her head lolls to the side, she looks over at Gale, and her breath catches at the sight of him.

Gale’s face is flushed, redness spread across his cheekbones, and his jaw is clenched. While one hand is shoved deep into his pants, shaking as he tries to hold back from pleasing himself, the other is balled up tightly against his thigh. He looks like he's halfway to being drunk but still wound so tight that he could easily snap.

“Good,” Gale answers before Tav can, his voice tight. Halsin glances his way and finally notices the way Gale is restraining himself. While holding eye contact with the other man, Halsin thrusts two fingers into Tav in one quick, smooth motion. Gale sees her body tense at the surprise of the pleasant intrusion and a shudder runs through him.

“You like what you see?” the druid asks, cocking an eyebrow. Gale nods and pink flushes up his neck and to his ears. Halsin flashes him a smile. “You don't have to hold back, you know.” Gale looks between them, assessing. “Even if you don't join us physically, we want you to be a part of things.” Gale is so turned on but his skin prickles with self-consciousness as their attention is directed at him. Tav props herself up on her elbows to get a better look while Halsin continues to stretch her open with his thick digits.

“Can I at least see what you're doing over there, my love?” Her mouth is agape from the pleasure coursing through her. Her words paired with the blissed-out, eager look on her face is enough to give Gale the confidence he needs to make himself more comfortable.

Tav watches, enraptured, as he stands from the chair and begins to remove his clothes. Despite his shyness, with two gorgeous sets of eyes on him, he takes his sweet time unbuttoning his shirt. The way neither of them can take their eyes off of every sliver of skin he reveals has him feeling powerful in ways he never expected.

As the fabric of his shirt pools on the floor at his feet, his fingers move to the laces on the front of his trousers. After they're unlaced, he slips his thumbs into the waistband and pauses as if considering his next move. Tav licks her lips in anticipation and Gale shoots her a small smirk before shucking them off in one motion. His aching cock springs free and stands at attention, though he suddenly feels a bit vulnerable and overexposed.

Tav notices the shift in his expression and sits up, ready to go to him, but Halsin speaks first. “Oak Father preserve me…” he sighs. “Aren't you a sight to behold?” Gale blushes at the praise and Tav settles back again, smiling at the way a flush of pink blooms through his chest. “Will you come over here so I can get a better look at you?”

Gale nods shyly and takes a few steps to approach where Halsin is crouched next to the bed. His eyes scan the scene before him: the light sheen of sweat glimmering on Halsin's skin, the slick wetness covering the fingers of his right hand where they pump in and out of Tav, and the thick heavy cock that juts out between Halsin's tree trunk thighs.

Gale's never been with a man before, but he thinks that if he'd met more men like Halsin, that may not have been the case. He salivates wondering what it might taste like to have the druid on his tongue. Would he be sweet and tangy like Tav? Wet and earthy like the forest after a rain shower? He longs to find out but isn't quite sure if he's ready yet. Feeling brave, he reaches out to brush a sweaty piece of hair off Halsin's forehead and the larger man brushes a kiss against the inside of Gale's wrist.

Gale turns his head toward Tav in an attempt to hide his blush from the man who caused it. She gives him a soft, encouraging smile but he's distracted by the continued movement of Halsin's fingers. Gale watches how they curl and rub inside of Tav and he reaches out to draw circles around her clit with his thumb.

“It's awfully difficult to look but not touch,” Gale explains, and Halsin chuckles.

“I know what you mean… Just look at the state of you.” Halsin nods to where Gale's cock twitches in delight, a bead of arousal escaping from the tip.

Gale feels like his brain short-circuits as it floods with images of the elf’s hands all over him. He wants it, wants it so bad he can hardly think of anything else, but the analytical side of his brain is whirring away, trying to figure out what it all means.

“You– you can touch me,” Gale whispers. Tav clenches around Halsin's fingers in anticipation and surprise, and she lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

“Are you sure, Gale? It's only enjoyable if you really want it.” Halsin looks up at the wizard and attempts to read the look on his face. Gale looks nervous and pent up beyond belief, and Halsin knows he has to be prepared for a sudden change of heart. He won't deny the man what he wants, he'll simply make the environment as comfortable and conducive to experimentation as he can.

“I want you to touch me.” Gale pulls his hand away from Tav and sets it on Halsin's shoulder for stability. Halsin nods with a smile.

Halsin scissors his fingers inside Tav to coat them in her slick before he pulls them out of her. Gale watches his every movement and his throat tightens as he sees Halsin's hand, covered in her juices, moving in his direction. His eyes grow wide as he realizes what Halsin is going to do right before Halsin wraps his lubricated hand around Gale's shaft.

The warmth and wetness is overwhelming and Gale goes rigid. It feels so good and yet so foreign to have Halsin's hand on him that he's worried he might explode. His eyes slam closed and his grip on the elf’s shoulder tightens until his fingernails threaten to break skin as Halsin slowly strokes Gale's cock.

But it's too much.

He isn't ready. He wants to backtrack.

Halsin immediately picks up on the shift in Gale's demeanor and pulls his hand away.

“I'm sorry, I–” Gale stammers and Halsin pats his hip in reassurance. Tav sits up and takes one of Gale's hands in hers.

“There is no need for apologies,” Halsin replies, “It was too much too fast.” Gale nods and refuses to look at either of them, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“We can stop,” Tav adds, pressing a kiss to Gale's palm. He jerks his head to look at her.

“No! No, don't stop. I merely bit off more than I could chew for a moment, but please continue. I only need a moment, and then I want to watch you unravel for him.” Gale's eyes darken as he looks between the other two and Halsin’s cock throbs at his words.

“Then let's take a moment to ground ourselves and breathe,” Halsin suggests. He rests one hand on Tav’s thigh and the other hangs at his side, wanting to comfort Gale but not wanting to overwhelm him.

Tav’s fingertips delicately trace over the lines traversing Gale's palm. Gale closes his eyes and focuses only on her calming touch and his breathing. His other hand still rests on Halsin's shoulder, giving him a sense of stability. He finds himself wanting a comforting touch from the elf as well, but doesn't trust his body's reaction to the sensation.

As the three of them sit in silence, a tangle of soft intimate touches, Gale's breathing begins to slow. He tunes out the worries and focuses on the connection that he feels between them. Opening his eyes, he catches Tav’s gaze and a soft smile tugs at his lips. His thumb rubs over Halsin's shoulder before he moves it to cradle Tav’s face. Gale presses his forehead to hers and they melt into each other for a moment.

“I love you,” Gale murmurs. His lips find hers for a soft, lingering kiss that manages to communicate a sense of both trust and longing.

“I love you,” Tav replies. Foreheads pressed together, they stare into each other's eyes for a moment and take it all in.

Gale presses his mouth to hers again, gentle and chaste, before he turns back to Halsin. “Show her just what a powerful archdruid is capable of.” He shoots the other man a wink, claps him on the back, and starts to pad over to his chair.

“As you wish,” Halsin growls and presses his face into the junction of Tav’s thighs. She yelps in surprise as his tongue plunges between her folds, and she grabs the elf’s hair for support. Halsin wastes no time shoving three fingers into her tight, dripping pussy and her hips jerk against his face. His assault is relentless and she knows she won't last long as he fills her with his fingers and worships her clit with his tongue.

Gale groans at the delightful sounds that spill from her throat as he watches Tav squirm. A loud squelching fills the room as Halsin fucks her with his thick fingers. She's babbling, hardly able to string coherent sounds together, as the nerves throughout her body thrum with pleasure. As he alternates between open-mouthed kisses to her vulva and his tongue frantically flicking over her aching clit, he curls his fingers back toward himself inside her to rub harshly over the spot that makes her see stars. Her knees nearly give out as the dam suddenly breaks and she's coming.

A broken sob escapes from Tav as her whole body curls inward and her walls spasm around Halsin's fingers. Her juices spill over his chin and his hand and he just can't get enough. She's so wet and so sweet that it may as well be honey that gushes over his tongue as he laps up everything she gives him.

Gale's cock leaks as he watches the larger man nearly drown in the ecstasy that flows from Tav, and he digs his fingertips into the arms of the chair in an attempt to maintain his composure. As much as he wants to touch and be touched, he finds he takes immense pleasure in watching her fall apart. His favorite part of being intimate with Tav is getting to witness the way her composure crumbles when she's reached a certain point. In most areas of her life, she's so put together and eloquent that it's a special privilege to see her in such a raw state when she's hardly more than a babbling mess.

The sounds Halsin makes are animalistic as he works Tav through her climax. He's so engulfed in her that he thinks he'd crawl inside her if he could, just to feel her over every inch of him. When she gets too sensitive to handle his mouth on her anymore, she tugs on his hair to drag him back up to his feet. Immediately, his mouth is on hers as he guides her back toward the bed.

Something in Halsin has snapped and his gentle, loving caresses have been replaced with raw, primal need. Tasting herself on his lips and tongue does something similar to Tav and her hands are everywhere, needing to map every inch of him.

She pants hard, trying to catch her breath from an intense orgasm, as his body covers hers on the bed. His fingers tangle in her hair and he grips tightly, desperate to hold her close. His mouth moves from her lips to her jaw to her neck, kissing and sucking at every spot of skin in his reach. Her fingertips dig into his back, trying impossibly to bring him closer to her. She needs to touch him, taste him, feel him, but it's not enough.

Tav reaches between Halsin's legs and wraps her hand around his aching cock. Halsin growls at the sensation, his face buried in her neck. His hips thrust forward on their own accord, seeking more as she grips him and slides her soft palm over his sensitive shaft.

“Need to be inside you,” Halsin grunts, his careful composure gone for the moment.

“Please,” Tav whines, begging for him to fill her.

Gale spits into his hand, deciding that he'll give in and stroke himself at the moment Halsin's beautiful cock sinks into the tight wetness of Tav’s pussy.

Tav moves to guide Halsin to her center but she doesn't move fast enough for the desperate elf, so he reaches between them to grip himself tightly and line himself up with her hole, coating the head in her slick. He looks into her eyes, about to ask for confirmation, but she nods frantically and wraps her legs around the backs of his thighs, drawing him in.

The world melts around Halsin for a moment as he plunges into the depths of pleasure. Her warm wetness engulfs him and his senses, blocking out any coherent thought. Driven by primal instinct, he begins to thrust into her hard and fast.

Gale grips his desperate cock and imagines that it's Tav’s cunt squeezing him rather than his own spit-soaked hand. He matches his strokes to the rhythm of Halsin's thrusts and it feels like a thunderstorm is brewing under his skin. He watches the giant elf’s broad, sweaty body as his thick cock impales the woman Gale loves. All uncertainty leaves him when he sees the look of ecstasy and desperation on her face – Gale knows what she needs and he revels in the gasps and whimpers she makes as she gets it.

Tav grips Halsin’s hair in a tight fist, digs the fingernails of her left hand into the meat of his tricep, and cries out at the slight sting and immense pleasure of her overfilled cunt taking everything it’s given. She’s chanting fuck , and please , and yes over and over as Halsin pounds into her.

He’s so close, unable to handle much more as his nerves crackle at the energy between them. His heart is pounding so hard he can hear the blood rushing in his ears alongside the sound of flesh striking flesh and the wet suction of Tav’s cunt trying to hold him deep inside.

Between heavy breaths, Halsin groans, “Gonna come – Where?” Gale’s hand is moving frantically up and down his cock, adding his own slapping sounds to the mix, as he hurtles toward his own climax. He can't stop watching the way Halsin's length disappears inside her as her walls grip him.

“Inside me!” Tav cries out and the desperate desire in her voice pushes both Gale and Halsin over the edge. Halsin shoves himself as deep into her depths as he can, and he paints her insides with his seed. At the same moment, Gale’s balls tighten and his hand stills as ropes of come spurt from his cock to paint his abdomen.

The sensation of Halsin’s cock pulsing and filling her sends Tav into her second climax as she spasms dramatically around him. Her cunt squeezes him tight, milking every drop it can get from him. Tav’s thighs quiver and her body shakes under him as the waves of pleasure course through her and come out of her mouth as wanton moans.

Gale's head drops back against the back of the chair as he tries to catch his breath. He holds his slowly-softening manhood and tries not to think about the mess he's made of his lap.

Halsin peppers kisses all over Tav’s face and chest as she comes down from her high, and once she catches her breath, she loosens her grip on his hair and kisses him passionately. They're both sweaty and flushed and a bit sore, but they're lost in each other for a short while. She pushes back the hair plastered to Halsin's forehead and he looks at her with such love and adoration that her heart could burst. After a few long moments drinking each other in, Halsin looks over at Gale before turning back to Tav.

“Let me go check on Gale, my heart.” The druid strokes her cheek and places a quick kiss to the corner of her dopey smile. She nods and allows her limbs to fall to the bed like dead weight, letting the normal sensations slowly return back to her body.

Gale lifts his head and watches as Halsin pulls out of her with a wince and stands. He looks at Gale with softness and a touch of mischief in his eyes as he approaches. Halsin stands over the other man and assesses the scene in front of him: his flushed cheeks, his chest glistening with sweat, the sticky mess clinging to his skin.

Gale's cheeks burn as he mistakes the look in Halsin's eyes for judgment rather than interest. “I seem to have made a bit of a mess of myself,” he tells the elf with a self-conscious chuckle.

“That you have,” Halsin hums. “Is that why you blush, handsome wizard?” Gale looks down at the floor, avoiding Halsin's gaze. There are so many thoughts and feelings going through his head and he can’t quite grasp how to process or articulate them. Halsin puts a finger under Gale's chin and tips his face so that he looks up at him. “Are you embarrassed to have enjoyed yourself?” Gale swallows heavily.

Tav is tempted to listen to their conversation but stays out of it, happily giving them as much privacy as she can without moving. Her eyelids are getting heavy, and she can feel sleep call to her.

“Perhaps.” Gale's voice is quiet and he picks at a loose thread on the arm of the chair.

“Oh, Gale,” Halsin says. “You don't have anything to be embarrassed about.” This gets Gale to look up to him, though he looks incredulous.

“Don't I? Aren't I supposed to feel possessive over my partner? What kind of man am I to get pleasure from watching her be taken and claimed by another? Shouldn't I feel discomfort? Shouldn’t I want to intervene?” His mind is racing and the words are spilling out before he can filter them. Insecurities from his past begin to bubble up and, though he tries, he can’t cast them aside anymore.

Halsin smiles gently. “It would seem that you're the kind of man who enjoys seeing your love be happy and fulfilled. Did you feel discomfort?”

Gale pauses before answering, carefully considering and taking inventory of his mind. “I did feel discomfort at first, when I was thinking about it. I was worried about how I’d react once things started happening. I know that no matter how much you mentally prepare for something, you can never truly know what you’ll do until you’re in the situation. However, once you were here and it was real, I felt much calmer. I couldn’t help but to get aroused and that overrode my thinking, which allowed me to enjoy the experience and lean into the pleasure.” Halsin mulls over Gale’s words, contemplating their meaning. He knows that ultimately, Gale’s philosophies and morals come from very different sources from his own, and he takes that into consideration as he ponders how to frame his response.

“I believe that nature itself gave us the capability to be complex and ever-changing beings, and that includes every facet of our sexuality. Whether we’re monogamous or opposed to it, or somewhere in between, is deeply personal and potentially dynamic. It’s natural to fall anywhere on that spectrum, and it’s natural for your needs and wants to shift based on circumstances. If you enjoyed yourself, and everyone involved both fully consented and enjoyed themselves, why should there be shame? What purpose would that shame serve?”

Gale sits in silence for a moment as he processes. He thinks deeply, his thoughts branching off into a thousand different directions as he tries to break it down like any other intellectual endeavor. Some parts are quick to click into place in his mind, while others are more difficult to understand and internalize. “I can concede that you make some very good points, but I have to wonder about others. In the past, with Mystra, she sought other lovers and I did not enjoy that in the slightest. Why would that be different now? Could the difference be that I somehow love Tav less than I did Mystra? That I feel less afraid to lose her and thus am less emotionally reactive?”

Halsin can’t help but chuckle that someone with such an immense breadth of knowledge can be so disconnected from the inner workings of his own mind. “Oh, Gale. You wizards certainly do enjoy overcomplicating things, don't you? Could it not instead mean that you’re less afraid to lose her because you feel secure in your relationship with Tav, whereas with Mystra you did not?”

Gale ponders that, his mind running through the different instances when Mystra found pleasure in the arms of another and comparing them to the instances when he'd discussed the same with Tav. “With Mystra, it wasn't a conversation or a choice. She told me that was how it was going to be and who was I to argue with my goddess? Her word was final and if I wanted to be with her, I had to find a way to deal with her decisions on my own–”

“I think you know that's not how a partnership is meant to be.” Halsin’s response is curt and leaves little room for argument, which manages to trigger Gale’s deep-seeded reflex to defend Mystra. He stops himself, however, as he recognizes what is happening and it surprises him.

“I suppose intellectually, I do.” Gale sighs and continues, “Things with Mystra were also different in that I was not allowed the same courtesy. While I may not have wanted to be with anyone other than her, the fact of the matter is that I would have never been allowed to be. That is, as you’re well aware, not the case with Tav.”

“Indeed, and I think those differences are enough to make this an entirely different situation. Do you?”

Gale takes in Halsin’s words and the comforting, understanding look in his eyes, and he nods. He respects the druid’s judgment, knowing it comes from many years of experience. The way he’s explained it allows the rational side of Gale’s brain to connect with the emotional side. Halsin knows what he’s talking about.

“Is there someone else you'd like to be with now, Gale?” Halsin asks tentatively.

Gale sucks in a sharp breath and looks back up at Halsin. He’s somehow surprised that the conversation has taken this turn and, despite everything he’s just bared to the other man, he tries to steel himself against the impulse to hide or deflect. He shies away from the feeling of Halsin gazing into his soul and closes his eyes before answering, “I– I’d like to be with you, Halsin. Or at least give it a try.”

The room is silent for a moment and Gale opens his eyes again. A soft smile spreads across the druid’s face in response as he takes in how open and exposed the wizard looks. Not even taking into account the fact that he’s sitting naked in front of him, the look on Gale's face is one of pure vulnerability. It’s clear that it’s not easy for him to put himself out there like this.

“I had hoped you'd say that, Gale Dekarios.” Halsin caresses the stubble on Gale's jawline with his thumb, basking in the way his eyes sparkle as he looks up at the taller man.

“You did?” Gale’s voice sounds surprised.

“Of course I did,” Halsin chuckles. He crouches down to bring himself to Gale’s level, at least physically, and gazes intently into the man's eyes. “I may have to question your wisdom if you claim to be unaware of my attraction to you.”

Gale can’t help but laugh, blushing furiously but thankful that the other man has lightened the moment. His gentle teasing breaks the tension, much like when Tav does the same. “I suppose I can admit that I've noticed some signals from you.” He glances away, feeling exposed in the intensity of Halsin's gaze, before continuing, “In my defense, you are such an open, comfortable, and confident man that it can be difficult to discern what is genuine interest and what is just you being, well, you.”

He reaches out to touch the larger man but hesitates as he isn’t sure where to start. When Halsin grins, Gale brushes the tip of his thumb over his bottom lip, marveling at how it feels to touch him while the broad elf looks at him with adoration and hunger. His lip is soft and plush, and Gale wants to feel it everywhere. Halsin purses his lips and kisses the pad of Gale’s thumb, causing the human’s breath to catch in his throat. “Kiss me,” Gale whispers.

Of course, Halsin immediately obliges. Before the words are fully out of his mouth, Halsin runs his fingers through Gale's soft waves and presses his palm against the back of his head. Halsin gently guides Gale's face toward his, slow enough to give him plenty of chances to change his mind and pull away, and presses his lips against the lips of the younger man.

Gale kisses him back sweetly and then not-so-sweetly, as his mouth drifts open to allow Halsin to deepen the kiss. His tongue slips over Gale's tongue, massaging the strong muscle. Gale tastes Tav’s juices on Halsin's tongue and it stirs something in him. His hands begin scrabbling for purchase, desperate to get a good grip and pull the elf closer, nearly dragging Halsin into his lap. He hungers for him, eager to explore every nook and cranny of Halsin's mouth with his tongue.

Gale's breathing is ragged as the two men get lost in each other. They move to stand to get closer to one another, and Gale shudders at the way Halsin's hand nearly dwarfs his face when it cups his jaw. The smaller man's fingertips dig into the elf's thick biceps as he fails to resist grinding their hips together.

Halsin's pupils are blown wide as he takes in the uncharacteristic neediness of the wizard. He wants so badly to make the less experienced man feel good, so he slides down to his knees and gazes up at Gale.

Gale lets out another shuddering breath as he attempts to process the scene in front of him: he's seen Tav in this position countless times and it never gets old, but the novelty of seeing a powerful archdruid on his knees for him is nearly overwhelming.

“May I?” Halsin asks softly after what feels like ages. Unable to trust his voice, Gale meekly nods.

Halsin runs his hands up Gale's thighs, callused fingers catching on the soft hair there, and places a single kiss on Gale's pelvic crest. He looks up at the brunette to gauge his reaction and the reverent look on his face encourages Halsin to continue. He leaves gentle pecks across Gale's soft belly, undeterred by the partially-dry spendings that coat his skin. Halsin drags his tongue across a particularly bountiful river of Gale’s spend before sucking it into his mouth, delighting in the taste of his essence. He continues to suck at the skin there, leaving a mark on the flesh, just a hair west of where Gale needs his mouth the most. Gale’s wound so tightly that Halsin can feel the tension where he touches him as he continues to place teasing kisses across the wizard’s navel and groin.

“Please,” Gale whines and Halsin’s cock jumps at the sound. The elf’s mouth hovers over the other man’s length, his hot breath caressing Gale’s hardness. The man’s hands rest on Halsin’s shoulders but clench into fists as he tries to resist pulling Halsin’s face closer.

Prolonging the torture, Halsin’s hands dance across Gale’s skin until they settle over his hips. Halsin locks eyes with Gale, smirking, and just as the desperate man is about to beg him to do something, anything , he slips Gale’s aching cock into his mouth in one fluid motion. The tension in Gale’s muscles doubles as his senses are overloaded with pleasure. Halsin’s mouth is hot and wet as he sucks Gale down until his nose is pressed into Gale’s coarse brown curls. The wizard’s legs nearly give out as his body begins to relax in response to the chorus of wondrous sensations.

Gale lets out a stream of curses under his breath as Halsin’s mouth begins to move over him. His tongue slides along the underside of Gale’s cock and the less experienced man can’t help but tangle his fingers into the druid’s long hair. He begins babbling, narrating the sensations he’s feeling and heaping praise onto the kneeling man, when he sees Tav stir out of the corner of his eye. Not wanting to wake her, he digs his front teeth into his lip to keep his voice at bay, but the monologue of nonsense continues to run through his head.

Halsin bobs his head, licking and sucking Gale like a man starved, and Gale’s hips begin moving on their own accord. He takes everything Gale is willing to give him as he works the wizard over, and he doesn’t even flinch when Gale suddenly thrusts forward, tenses, and spurts come down his throat. The elf slows his movements, greedily swallowing every drop that the other man releases and working Gale through his peak.

As Gale becomes to sensitive to handle the sensation anymore, Halsin pulls his mouth off of him but otherwise makes no attempt to move from his position. Gale breathes deeply, grounding himself by running his fingers through the druid’s soft yet tangled hair. Halsin moves to stand, caressing Gale’s sides as he does so. The room quiet around them, they stand in comfortable silence for a few moments and just breathe. Gale’s fingers are still in Halsin’s hair, Halsin’s hands rest on Gale’s hips as if stabilizing him, and they gaze into each other’s eyes. Gale doesn’t know what to say, simultaneously wanting to process everything and not wanting his mind to drift away from the current moment.

“I think it’s time to get some rest,” Halsin suggests.

“But what about you? Do you want me to return the favor?” Gale asks, his mind suddenly trying to fill in his understanding of the expected etiquette of the situation. Halsin chuckles and strokes the wizard’s cheek.

“We can save that for next time. Right now, I think Tav’s got the right idea.” They both glance over to where she lays, nude and sprawled across the bed, only one leg under the covers. An adoring smile creeps over Gale’s face as he watches her shift in her sleep. He turns back to Halsin and his eyes flit over the elf’s face, carefully cataloging every freckle, dimple, and wrinkle.

“Let me get cleaned up and then I’ll join you two,” Gale says, tipping his head in the direction of the bed.

“Will you stay?” Gale’s voice is quiet, but no longer shrouded in uncertainty. Halsin brings his hands up to the wizard’s face and smiles.

“I’d like that.” Halsin presses a gentle kiss to the other man’s lips, and Gale’s surprised at how natural it feels. Gale knows that at some point, likely the next day, his mind will take over and need to analyze every aspect of the situation, but for the moment, he feels safe and desired and loved.

Halsin smiles and caresses Gale's jaw with his thumbs. “Take your time, we’ll make sure there’s room for you.”

#Halsin x Tav #Gale x Halsin x Tav #Gale x Halsin #Gale x Tav #baldurs gate 3 #gale x reader #halsin x reader #Gale x Halsin x reader

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anxiously-sidequesting · 5 months

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#inspired when i saw an ad on youtube for wizard101 #where it said “come play for free and explore 16 different worlds!!!” and i was like okay thats a fucking lie #you cant even get all the way through the FIRST world #personally i think its stupid and inconvenient to have to pay to play the MAIN QUESTLINE #for the people who dont have time to grind the set amount of time you pay for membership or those who dont have money #you either pay for a year and are pressured to do as much as you can before time runs out #or you're stuck doing nothing. there's very little you can do without membership #like the main selling point of the game is so you can finish the story. thats what we download the game for in the first place #it gives you the impression that the priority here is your money and not the consumer's enjoyment and comfort #like there are plenty of games who make the entire game free and still are well off #we pay like 40-50 dollars on bundles and even more than that on crowns. that should be more than enough #there are other games where if you dont have membership it barely affects your gameplay experience overall #or games that have no membership function but still can make decent money #imo having to pay to just actually play the game doesnt make it free. like yeah you can do other stuff like fish and duel each other-#and thats it. you walk around the commons and talk ig #thats like the biggest reason i dropped the game its just wayy too expensive and inconvenient to play it #wizard101 #w101 #wiz101 #polls

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cats-in-the-clouds · 2 years

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is it selfish to feel lonely and want human friends in my life despite having God who is of course worth more than anything or anyone else

#sigh #God is enough for me there is nothing i shall want #and all that #but then also i feel like we humans are naturally social creatures and we want tangible connections and all that #i have plenty of friends but also no true friends because they don’t know the real me #aka that i’m Catholic and i follow the teachings of the Church etc #you know how well that flies in today’s society #i’m too much of a pathetic coward to tell them the truth i’m such a bad witness to my faith #i just pretend to agree with their obscene falsehoods to keep myself safe #but that’s because i have no one else to fall back on if they reject me #i’ll be truly and utterly alone in this world with only God for company #and my mental health is already so fragile i can’t take a hit like losing all my friends #but perhaps they were never really my friends at all if we aren’t honest with each other #wish i knew what to do #i’ll leave them behind if i have to if that’s God’s plan for me #it’s just not like i know what else to do afterwards #i still care about them too but i have strong doubts that they’d even remotely be willing to hear me out #they really think they know me and they express so much genuine concern for me as a person and here i am #lying by omission every day to them #and that’s because i used to believe what they believe once upon a time #but since then i’ve changed and given my life to God but i suffered quietly through that transition #without having the courage to tell them what was going on #would it really have been better if i had just told them back then a few years ago? idk #i feel like dirt #what a fine mess i’ve gotten myself into

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fridayyy-13th · 2 months

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^ live footage of me rn

#friday chats #tw vent #not like a super terrible vent or anything i'm just. tired. and mad at myself.#so like a couple weeks ago i was given an assignment for my british lit class right?#to write a research essay based on one of the texts we've studied this unit. two weeks to do it. easy peasy. sure.#i figure that's plenty of time and leave it to work on my other homework (bc there's always other homework i'm an honors student)#oh wow lookie there it's due this weekend! great! so i start work on it #and then i can't find any research to bolster the question i'd formulated. it would have just been my own analysis #and we're required to have four sources. so that's that out the window.#the weekend passes and i'm officially in ''late assignment'' territory #and it's the last week before spring break so i'm swamped w/other work and midterm tests and everything #so yesterday my friend and i call to work on ours together (we always proofread each other's stuff/give each other pointers and whatnot)#and i'm just lost on what my essay should be about. any sort of question i could explore.#she has something of an idea for hers but not much. so neither of us get ours done #the assignment fully closes tonight #so we try again. i manage a half-hearted intro paragraph with zero direction and one source #and then i just hit a wall. the sources i'm looking at don't give me any new insights or ideas and i've got nothing #with two hours to the deadline. so i'm thoroughly fucked #i keep trying and just. yeah no not a thing. and if you notice the timestamp on this post it's past 12am #guess who didn't finish his essay 🙃#this is the fucking SECOND TIME THIS HAS HAPPENED. what the FUCK #fanTASTIC start to my spring break y'all. and the only way i can communicate the specific feeling i'm feeling is through a homestuck gif.#can i just sink into the earth. that'd be great #at least now that it's over i don't have to worry about it anymore. i mean there's the guilt obviously but i don't have to *worry*#God. my mom's gonna be pissed #if i follow this train of thought any further it's gonna fall down a spiral of responsibility and college and career stuff #and i don't want to deal with that right now #so i'm just gonna stop talking. and either go read an angsty fic and cry for catharsis or just go to sleep. we'll see #i hate getting all personal on the internet but i'd rather yell to the void than bottle it up so. here we are

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jayybugg · 1 month

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nurse

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ghost avoids you but it's not what you think.

Warning: Slight Time Skips, Kinda Asshole Ghost?, Smut (18+), Use of Y/N, Language (?).

Word Count: 4.6K

Note: Now, I know in my master list I said that right now I would only be writing for the Slytherin Boys......but I have spiraled back into my Call of Duty, specifically Ghost. Now this is just an experiment, I don't know how this will go over but if you guys like it then maybeeee I'll post my other fandom fics that I have.

Also! This is a birthday gift for my beautiful gem, @slytherinslut0 , so everyone thank her and wish her a happy birthday. As always, @cafekitsune is on the banner.

Taskforce 141 didn’t pay any attention when they were told that they would have a new nurse on the base. They assumed it would be another male, just like everyone who got employed here.

So, only one could imagine their shock when the base’s doctor, Dr. Moscaw, introduced a pretty little thing like you to the team.

“This is Y/N. She will work under me. Your first point of contact for anything medical-wise.” Moscaw spoke, “Don’t go scaring her off, boys.”

There were grumbles and protests as Dr. Moscaw left you with the team. You cleared your throat as you gave them all a nervous smile. All their eyes were on you, surveying you almost like prey. A certain man with a skull mask being the most intense one. “Um, right. You all desperately need an annual check-up. So, whenever you all have a moment, please stop by the medical ward. I would love to update your records and meet you all.”

Before any of them could say anything, you had scurried off.

Over the next few weeks, they all came in one by one. Introducing themselves as you went through updating their records.

First came Captain Price. You liked to think that he came in to lead by example and not to get out of his mountain of paperwork. Then Kyle came in the next day. He begged you to call him “Gaz”, saying that nobody on base ever calls him Kyle.

Not long after Gaz came, Johnny waltzed into your office. He was flirty but overall friendly. Johnny, just like Gaz, begged you to call him Soap like everyone else. He was the one who referred to you as a breath of fresh air amidst the testosterone-filled air. Often, he and Gaz came to your office. They always claimed to be checking up on you, but you knew it was because they were hiding from their duties.

“Where is…. um, Ghost? Or is his name Simon? It’s two first names on this file.” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows at the lack of information in his records. Soap chuckled, glancing up from his phone to you. “Ghost is the name he’s gonna give ‘ya. It’s the name that we all know him by.”

“A field name, I assume?” You asked, looking up from your computer. Gaz and Soap nodded. “Yep. His name for plenty of reasons, but that’s neither here nor there.” Gaz waved his hand dismissively.

“Well, is he going to come in for a check-up? He doesn’t have another doctor or anything listed.” You sighed. “His medical record is empty. There is nothing on here, other than his name and height. No birthday, no past medication history, nothing.”

“Of course, that’s all that’s on there. That’s all anyone knows about him.” Soap laughed. “He’s not gonna come in here for a check-up.”

“What? Why not?” You asked, closing your computer.

“Too much information.” Gaz shrugged. “Nobody knows anything about him. It’s a shocker that he even allowed his real name to be on those records.”

“So, nobody knows if this guy even goes to the doctor?” You threw your hands up in exasperation. “That’s insane.”

“Ya may be right, but that means nothing to Ghost.” Soap said.

“And insane is basically his middle name. The man does whatever he wants.” Gaz added.

“Do you think he will come in if I just ask?” You pondered to the men.

Gaz and Soap glanced at each other before shrugging. “If you bat those pretty eyelashes at any man on this base, they’ll be eating out the palm of your hand,” Soap said.

“But Ghost isn’t like the average man. He’s not easily swayed like most.” Gaz added, “But I mean, it won’t hurt to try.”

With the encouragement from Gaz and Soap to just try to ask him, you spent the next few weeks attempting to track Ghost down. Unfortunately for you, he lived up to his name very well. It was like every time you went looking for him, everyone had “just seen him.”

Eventually, you found him, by pure coincidence. You were walking to your car, getting ready to leave the base for the day when your eyes landed on a 6’4, muscular man who donned a skull balaclava. You hadn’t seen him since the day that Price had introduced you to the team. He seemed bigger and a bit more intimidating than before, but your determination outweighed your nervousness.

You walked up to him, clearing your throat. Ghost stopped fiddling with his motorcycle to drag his eyes up to your face. His eyes were dark and analytical as he scanned your face before tracing down your body. You felt self-conscious of his wondering gaze.

“Whatcha ‘ya want?” His voice was deep, his accent coming out heavier than you thought it was.

“Um, I’m the new nurse.” You squeaked out before clearing your throat.

“I know.”

“Right.” You took a deep breath. “Your medical records are empty and you’re the only one who hasn’t come in for a check-up.”

There was a brief silence between you two as you waited for him to say something, anything. When you got the hint that he wasn’t going to say anything, you decided to just push forward and ask.

“Will you come in for one? And maybe introduce yourself a little more?”

Ghost stared at you a little longer before turning back to his motorcycle. “No.”

Your eyes widened at the blatant refusal. You raised your eyebrow, crossing your arms. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“Do ‘ya not know what ‘no’ means? Aren’t ‘ya educated?” Ghost grunted; his back still turned to you.

“You can’t just…. You must fill out these records somehow!”

“No, I don’t.”

You narrowed your eyes at Ghost, huffing slightly. “It’s mandatory to at least get an annual check-up.”

“So, I’ve heard. Don’t care.” He spoke again, throwing one leg over the motorcycle. He started it up, gripping the handles. His eyes focused on your face again as he revved the engine.

“But-”

Before you could even think about responding, Ghost had sped off, leaving you in the dust.

“And he just sped off?” Soap laughed. Gaz smacked his arm, giving you an apologetic look.

“Ignore Soap. He has a terrible sense of humor.” Gaz rolled his eyes. “But we told you he was hard to sway.”

“I just don’t understand why he doesn’t want to come in.” You groaned, “Maybe he just doesn’t want to get to know me?”

“It’s Ghost, you aren’t supposed to understand him.” Gaz shrugged. “But I doubt it’s you that he’s against.”

You let another groan, causing the two men to chuckle.

“Hell, Darlin’, you might just make the man nervous as hell. As you can see, we don’t have many pretty females around here.” Soap leaned back in his chair, grinning at you.

“Me? Make Ghost nervous? Please.” You raised an eyebrow, rolling your eyes. Soap shrugged, “You never know, he could be.”

“You never know,” Gaz said, agreeing with Soap.

“Whatever.” You muttered, ending the conversation.

Weeks had passed and Ghost gave no sign of even considering stepping into the medical ward or trying to talk to you. He evaded you any chance he got. You told Dr. Moscaw and Price about the predicament with Ghost. Both waved it off and said, “He’s Ghost, that’s just how he is.

When your official first three months of working on the base had come around, Soap and Gaz had invited you out to the bar to celebrate.

“It’ll be everyone. Cap, Laswell, König, hell, even Ghost said he would come.” Soap smiled at you. You scoffed slightly at the revelation that Ghost was going to show his masked face at the bar. “Are we sure he’s coming for me, or rather, the drinks?” You asked, your eyes focused on the computer screen in front of you.

Gaz chuckled. “He refused to go until we said it was a celebration for you.”

“Funny that the man that evades me wants to come to my celebration.” You muttered.

“You know, he’s probably around you more than you think,” Soap said, causing you to look up at him with a raised eyebrow. Soap shrugged, continuing, “I mean, he’s known for being around without others knowing, hence the name Ghost.”

“Like he sees me, but I don’t see him?” You asked. Soap and Gaz nodded.

“Think of it like he is collecting information on you. The poor guy lives and breathes our missions and the military. It’s all he knows. It works with the idea that you make the man nervous.” Gaz said, patting your back as he and Soap filed out of your office.

Gaz’s and Soap’s words stuck to you. Maybe you had gone about approaching Ghost all wrong. He was quieter than Gaz and Soap and obviously more secretive, given the blank medical record and the mask. Maybe you should let him approach you, let him feel you out to see if you’re trustworthy or not.

When the night of the celebration rolled around, you promised yourself that you would not pester Ghost. Despite the growing need to get to know him and your nursing instincts to make sure he was healthy; you were going to let him come to you.

You walked into the bar, tugging slightly at your dress that rose from sitting in the taxi. Your black mini dress hugged your curves and had a low neckline that showed off your cleavage with your matching strappy heels. Although Soap and Gaz had to you to come dressed up, you debated calling the taxi back and going home to change. You were going to be with your co-workers, who were most likely going to be in jeans.

You sighed, pushing open the door to the bar. Your eyes snapped over to the large table in the back of the bar where all your coworkers sat. “Y/N!” Gaz yelled, jumping up from his seat. He grabbed your arm, escorting you to the table. Everyone shot you a smile, except König and Ghost, who both donned a balaclava. Although, you could tell from the crinkle in König’s eyes that he was smiling at you.

“The guest of honor is finally here.” Laswell smiled at you. “Congratulations on sticking it out at the base for three months. I must admit, I thought these boys would scare you away by now.”

“No, I’m tougher than I look.” You joked, “Plus, everyone is nice. I felt welcomed.”

Gaz and Soap gave Ghost an unmistakable side eye that you caught, and if you caught it, then everyone at the table caught it. You also didn’t miss the narrowed eyes that Ghost gave back to Gaz and Soap.

“A round of shots! For our new family member.” Price winked at you, giving you a warm smile.

That’s how the night went on, chatting and drinks getting passed around. It didn’t take you long to get buzzed. You kept true to your promise to yourself and didn’t go looking for interactions with Ghost.

However, you felt his eyes on you. It was like they never left you, always following your every movement.

It felt familiar.

Ghost stayed quiet the whole night, not cracking a chuckle at any jokes or taking part in the conversations. His eyes wandered the bar as if he was looking for any type of escape. Whenever your eyes met his, he looked away, his eyes hardening in the process.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” You said, feeling the alcohol finally run through you and back up your throat. Although everyone was too occupied with their conversations to hear you. You stumbled your way to the bathroom, pushing open the door. You wasted no time, bending over the toilet and vomiting what little contents that were in your stomach.

“I knew I should’ve eaten before….” You whispered to yourself.

“Yeah, ‘ya should have. Not very nurse of ‘ya.” A deep voice echoed behind you.

You jumped, turning around, clutching your chest as your eyes landed on Ghost. He stood behind you, arms crossed, as he leaned against the stall door.

“God, when the fuck did you get in here?” You asked, your eyes traveling down his figure. This would be the first time that you had ever seen Ghost in civilian clothes. Even on relaxed days on the base, Ghost wore full tactical gear. Tonight, he opted for a compression tee and black sweatpants, as if he was planning to go to the gym after all of this.

Which wouldn’t be surprising for Ghost.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos.” Your eyes landed on his sleeve, which seemed to move as he unconsciously flexed his muscles.

“I know ‘ya didn’t.” Ghost said, offering his hand out to you. You took it gratefully, standing up to your two feet. Ghost handed you some mouthwash and gum, along with your purse.

“Didn’t want nobody shifting through ‘ya stuff.” Ghost said when he saw the look that you gave him, “Also thought ‘ya might want to touch up ‘ya make up.”

“Thank you.” You gave him a small smile. He nodded, turning on his heel to leave out the bathroom. You swigged the mouthwash around, spitting into the sink. You freshen up your makeup before popping the piece of gum in your mouth.

You made your way back to the table, sitting down when a waitress came and dropped a personal pan of pepperoni pizza in front of you with water. “Oh,” You looked up at her, “I didn’t order this.”

“One of your friends ordered it for you. Told me to bring it when you came back to your seat.” She smiled and walked away. You glanced down at the pizza with a smile. Pizza was your favorite greasy food; it matched the rumbling of your drunk stomach perfectly.

You looked up at Soap and Gaz, the only two people who would know about your guilty pleasure food. Soap was leaning against the table flirting with another waitress while Gaz made bets with Price on football games. You decided you would thank one of them later when they weren’t busy.

4 am finally rolled around, causing the night to end. Gaz had called you a cab, walking you out as everyone said their goodbyes. Ghost had already mounted his motorcycle and sped off into the night. Once Gaz got you settled in the backseat, you smiled at him. “Thanks, Gaz. Oh, and thank you for the pizza, too.”

Gaz raised his eyebrow. “What pizza?”

“The pizza you ordered me when I went to the bathroom.” You clarified.

“I didn’t order you a pizza, hell, I didn’t even know you went to the bathroom.” Gaz said before chuckling a bit with a mischievous smirk, “The only person who ordered food was Ghost.”

Before you could ask anything more, Gaz tapped the roof of the car and your taxi pulled off.

You went even longer without seeing Ghost after the bar. It was almost as if he had just disappeared into thin air. You tried to question Gaz and Soap, but they claimed they knew nothing about it. Saying that it was probably a “lucky guess” but if anything they had told you about Ghost was true, nothing he did was just a lucky guess.

You pushed all your questions to the back of your mind, as you knew you weren’t going to get any answers any time soon. You were cleaning up the office as your day was ending. 141 were out on a mission, a relatively relaxed one, so your office was quiet and easy to pack up rather than having to tell Soap to stop touching stuff every 5 minutes.

You hummed to yourself, not taking notice that your office door had swung open.

“You’re terrible at being aware of ‘ya surroundings.”

You jumped, a squeal falling from your mouth. “You have to stop doing that!”

Ghost stood at your door, in sweatpants and a hoodie. His arms crossed as he stared at you through his mask. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. You suddenly felt small like the room was closing in on you due to Ghost’s tall frame.

“What are you doing here?” You asked. Ghost’s eyes seemed to widen, as if he wasn’t sure why he was there either.

“Give me a check-up.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, glancing over at the clock. It was 7:35 pm, and the base was basically empty.

“It can’t wait til tomorrow?” You asked. Ghost took a step closer to you, “I thought you wanted to get to know me?”

“I do but-”

“Then give me the check-up.” Ghost grunted, sitting on the bench. His large frame made the normally large bench look small under him.

You sighed softly, getting out your equipment to start his check-up. You stay silent as you slip on your latex gloves after washing your hands. “So, I’m guessing something happened on the mission.”

Ghost looked over to you, his eyes coated in a small dose of confusion. “What?”

“I mean, you seemed very adamant about not getting a check-up before and now you’re here after a mission. I just assumed maybe something happened.” You clarified as you moved to check his heartbeat.

It took everything in you not to let your hands wander across his chest as you pulled away from him to turn to your computer and record the data.

“Nothing happened. Just built up some confidence.” He said, getting off the bench to stand behind you closely.

“O-oh…. confidence for what?” You took a deep breath, your eyes focusing on the computer screen.

Ghost didn’t answer your question, instead, he grabbed your shoulders and spun you around to face him. “You’re very annoying, you know that?”

“What?” Your eyes widened.

“You’re always around, smelling good. In these scrubs that hug your body tighter than any other scrubs I’ve ever seen.” Ghost muttered, “Always laughing at Soap’s stupid jokes. Always getting pizza when you know you aren’t supposed to.”

“I try to avoid you and ignore you, but you just crawl your little ass into my mind anyways. All mission…. just thinking and wondering what you’re doing.” Ghost continued.

“Is this your way of admitting that you’ve been thinking about me?” You asked.

Ghost stayed silent. His eyes stay trained on you, no words or sounds coming from him. His hand moved to take a piece of your hair and twirling it around his finger.

“Um, we should finish the check-up so we can go.” You spoke softly. Ghost ignored you, dipping his face into your neck. He took a deep breath. “God, you smell heavenly.”

“Ghost....”

“I need you.” He grumbled, “I need you all around me. I’ve learned everything I can about you and all I can think about is how I need to feel about you.”

“How I need to ruin you.”

You felt a knot in your stomach at his words, heat pooling inside you. “R-ruin me?”

“Beyond belief.” Ghost confirmed, “Give me the green light.”

You stayed silent as Ghost pushed his knee between your legs, pressing his knees gently against your core, causing a whimper to fall from your mouth. He lifted his mask to reveal his lips, pressing against your neck in soft, wet kisses. “Y/N. Answer me.”

“I….” You gasped for air, “P-please…do it.”

Ghost didn’t need to hear anything else. He lifted you easily, throwing you on the bench. He yanked your top off, groping your breast. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about these since the bar. So soft and plump…” Ghost grumbled, pulling your bra down and latching his mouth to your nipple.

A small moan fell from your mouth at the actions. His tongue swirled around your nipple before he pulled away with a slight “pop”. He left a trail of kisses down your chest to your naval. He tugged down your pants, throwing them in the same direction as your top. He groaned at the sight of the wet spot in your panties.

“So wet and ready for me. Huh, love?” Ghost said, blowing softly on your clothed clit.

You whined softly, nodding your head. He slapped your thigh, his eyes looking up at you. “I want to hear use your words. Let me hear that pretty voice that has been plaguing my mind for these past few months.”

You let out a sigh as Ghost pressed the pad of his tongue to your slit through your panties, teasing you. “Yes…. I’m wet and ready for you.”

“Good fucking girl, Lovie.” Ghost chuckled, moving your panties to the side to latch his mouth to your clit. He sucked and lapped at your clit harshly, your moans becoming uncontrollable as he ate you out like a starved man. His tongue teased your slit, flicking his tongue up and down.

He gripped your thighs tighter, pulling you closer to him. His nose pressed against your clit, stimulating you more and more. “Oh God, fuck, Ghost.” You moaned, your hands reaching out to grip the top of his balaclava.

“That’s right. I want you moaning my name like it’s the only thing that pretty little mind knows.” Ghost muttered, slipping two fingers into you as he kept lapping up all your juices. Your thighs tightened around his face as you felt your climax coming.

Ghost groaned at the action, his cock twitching with anticipation. You tossed your head back as pleasure coursed through your body. “I’m about to cum, fuck, I’m s’close.”

Your words seem to push Ghost further into sending you over the edge. His tongue moved faster against you as his fingers matched his pace. Your mind was blanking from the orgasm that rushed over your body. Ghost pulled his fingers out slowly as he pulled away from your swollen clit. His mouth was covered in your slick as he smirked. “Taste so sweet, Angel.” He spoke.

He pushed his two fingers into your mouth, groaning at the warmth of it. You suck on his fingers, tasting yourself on them as you swirled your tongue around. “Such a good, eager girl. So happy to taste yourself on my fingers.” Ghost whispered, pushing them down your throat so he could hear your gags.

Ghost pulled away, yanking his sweatpants and boxers down. His cock sprang out, revealing its large length. It hit his abdomen; the tip leaking with pre-cum. Your eyes looked down at him, eyes widening at the sight. “My God….” You whispered.

Ghost grabbed the base of his shaft, jerking himself off slightly before pulling you to the edge of the bench and wrapping one of your legs around his waist while propping the other one on his shoulder. “I need this pretty pussy wrapped around my cock, taking every inch of me.” Ghost growled. He rubbed his tip up and down your slick, coating it in it.

“Tell me how much you want this, Lovie. How bad do you want me to fuck you?” Ghost demanded; his eyes focused on you. You let out a whiny moan, looking up at him, “Please fuck me. I want your cock so bad.”

Ghost pushed into you, filling you up slowly but surely. Ghost groaned, sinking into you until he was fully inside you. “S’fucking tight. Gonna fuck this pretty cunt until it’s molded to only take my cock.” Ghost groaned, snapping his hips forward for a forceful thrust. A guttural moan fell from your mouth, as Ghost gripped your throat with both hands, pounding into you at a ruthless pace.

“M’been dreaming of this since the day I laid eyes on your fucking application picture.” Ghost muttered, “Such a pretty fucking girl. Batting your eyelashes at everyone.”

Ghost’s hands moved down to your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. Your moans were drowned out by the loud slapping of your skin. If it wasn’t for the way that Ghost was viciously railing you, you would be concerned that someone would walk past and hear you.

“Such a fucking whore. Getting fucked in your office…. you like being railed after work? Hmm?” Ghost hissed out as you clenched around him.

“You look s’pretty being full of my cock.” Ghost muttered, leaning down to kiss and nip your neck. You whined, feeling another knot form in your stomach. You clenched around Ghost, making him groan. “M’close…. s’close…” You spoke in between moans.

“Go ahead and make a mess on my cock, baby. Cum all over this cock like the slut you are.” Ghost demanded. It didn’t take long for your legs to shake and for Ghost’s cock to be drenched in your climax. He slowed his thrusts, pulling out of you. You whimpered at the lost feeling.

“Get up, Lovie. I want to cum all in that pretty mouth of yours.” Ghost said, pulling you off the bench and to your knees. You looked up at him as he pumped himself. Slapping his cock against your lips, you opened your mouth to let him slip in.

“S’fucking warm. Fucking made to take my dick in every fucking hole you have.” Ghost muttered, his hand snaking around the back of your head to shove his dick further down your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you tasted all your juices that drenched his cock. Saliva trailed down your chin as Ghost thrust in and out of your mouth at an unforgiving pace. “A fucking slut you are, taking my dick so well. Fuck.” Ghost groaned as his hip stuttered slightly. His cock twitched in your mouth before ropes of cum shot down your throat.

Your eyes screwed shut as Ghost stayed deep in your throat, making sure you swallowed all his cum. He pulled out, bending down to level as you looked up at him. “So, this was going through your mind all this time.” You spoke breathlessly.

“Shocked, Lovie?” Ghost smirked, lifting you back to your feet.

“A little.” You nodded. Ghost tilted your head back to press a rough but gentle kiss to your lips. “Well, I suggest you get used to it because there will be more of that.”

“So, you made your move, huh?” Soap grinned wickedly at Ghost, who sat further down the table. Ghost’s eyes shot to Soap’s as he narrowed them at the man.

“Don’t even try to deny it, LT.” Gaz said, his eyes staying trained on his phone. “All the talk around the base is how a certain skull mask-wearing lieutenant is attached to the hip of the pretty little nurse.”

“She must’ve really made you nervous if it took you almost three months to make a move on her.” Soap teased.

“I did more than make a move on her, Sergeant.” Ghost spoke, “That pretty little nurse is now my pretty little nurse.”

Ghost smirked underneath his mask as he looked between Gaz and Soap. “So, it would do you both good to watch your hands the next to you hug her. Would hate to have to break your fingers off for wandering too far for your own good.”

Without another word, Ghost sauntered out of the meeting room, leaving Soap and Gaz dumbfounded.

“Hm, I was wondering when that boy was going to make a move.” Price hummed from his spot, “All that begging to hire her to this base and took nearly four months to even talk to her.”

“Wait, what? Ghost knew about her before she even got to base?” Gaz asked.

“Ghost was the one who pulled her application.” Price said, “Said ‘his future girl’ had applied, and I needed to get her on base.”

Gaz and Soap looked at each other before sighing. Of course, Ghost knew you before you knew him.

Because it wouldn’t be Ghost if he didn’t.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty #modern warfare #simon riley #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x reader

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crowfeathers · 1 year

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I don’t enjoy knowing when someone is being hyper careful about their words around me it honestly just makes me distrustful even if they mean well

#not making a moral stance here just. idk i am increasingly feeler much better around actual strangers because we know absolutely nothing #about each other and don’t have to worry about dancing around sensitive topics all the time #i just. like okay i can respect avoiding talking about something or someone at all costs but it can still be quite apparent the more people #try to hide it like.. dude :l #not going to judge because it is hard to get over plenty of things but why is it so hard to avoid talking about x for someone’s sake #and then realizing x is a no no so they have to talk about y instead which is also a red flag. arghhhh so weird #not about anyone here #and not to be all ‘ugh im DONE doing nice favors for people’ it is just. hard to avoid feeling like i am being used #gross

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writingworlds · 3 months

Text

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐄

Pairing(s): Charles Leclerc x Porsche!reader

Summary: The Porsche Princess, that nickname has followed Y/N around since birth. And who better for a princess than a prince?

Warning(s): shitty Google translate

yn_porsche

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yn_porsche Essen und Freunde 🤍

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milaaa Mach keine Witze, du liebst das Essen mehr als ich 😘

papaporsche meine Prinzessin

yn_porsche Ich liebe dich Papa ❤️❤️

mickschumacher and where was my invitation?

yn_porsche sorry Micky but it was a girls only event

username hello??? not mick attempting to shoot his shot 😭😭

username girl I hate to break it to you but mick and y/n are only friends. They’ve known each other for years now

username day 673 of asking for Porsche to rejoin f1 permanently

milaaa 🤭🤭🤭

username milaaa WHAT DO YOU KNOW

milaaa oh nothing at all 🤭

yn_porsche 🫣🫣🫣

username y/n drop the pie recipe because it looks delicious

username y/n drop the makeup routine because you are gorgeous

username well that too

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f1 Welcome to the paddock porscheagracing!

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porscheagracing Excited to be here!

username JSHSHD OMG

username RACING ROYALTY IS BACK BABY

username ….wait…does this mean we will be able to see THE Y/N Porsche in the paddock

yn_porsche no promises but I do hope to make it to at least one Grand Prix!! Most likely the German one 😉

username DOES THIS MEAN THAT HOCKENHEIMRING IS RETURNING TOO

username THE RUMOURS WERE TRUE

username 11 teams f1 is so back

username I CANT WAIT

porscheagracing

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porscheagracing Get to know us!

Who We Are: Originally founded in 1931 by Ferdinand Porsche, Porsche was meant to represent excellence, luxury, and class.

Our story starts with the creation of our first sports car, the 356, to our unveiling of the legendary 911. But those are simply designs of luxury sports cars, they do not encapsulate our rich heritage of motorsport.

We have dominated various endurance championships, most notably being the 24 Hours of Le Mans. It is time, however, to take that dominance to open wheel and Grand Prix racing.

What We Do: We will be competing in Formula One starting from the 2025 season. Our goal is to bring a sense of rejuvenation back to the world of Formula One (and of course take a few world championships while we are at it).

Our team: Holding the words power, precision, and performance in mind we created a team of uniquely qualified individuals to make sure we excel in all aspects.

- CEO: Henrik Porsche

- Team Principal: Sebastian Vettel

- Technical Director: Julia Wagner

- Chief Aerodynamicist: Karl Becker

- Chief Mechanic: Michael Braun

- Strategy Coordinator: Lisa Fischer

Information on our drivers will be released shortly.

Wagen Sie es, sich von Träumen mitreißen zu lassen.

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username is that Sebastian Vettel I see???

username try as he might he can’t escape motorsport 😭😭😭

mickschumacher 🖤❤️💛

yn_porsche F1 BABY

username please please please let Mick Schumacher be one of the drivers

username if his hearts mean anything you might be in luck

username maybe I’m just dumb but did anyone else just realise that the Porsche team colours are the same as the German flag 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

username it’s not just you I promise 😭😭

username any predictions on how good they’ll be? Cause I’m thinking they’ll start as a midfield car this year and then very quickly work their way up to the top

username i agree, they had Vettel on board as TP so he’ll give them plenty of experience in that regard but otherwise it will probably take them a bit of time to get used to f1 itself. once they do however….the rest of the grid best be prepared

username honestly i just can’t wait till they gain major sponsorship deals

username from twitter i heard they may have deals from Apple, Hermès, and of course Volkswagen

porscheagracing

liked by arthur_leclerc, mickschumacher, yn_porsche, and others

porscheagracing Please give a warm welcome to your drivers for the 2025 season arthur_leclerc and mickschumacher

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mickschumacher Lass uns gehen Porsche 🖤❤️💛

arthur_leclerc Thank you so much for this opportunity

charles_leclerc Congratulations little bro, f1!!!

username THE LECLERC BROTHERS IN F1 IM GONNA CRY

username NO BECAUSE IM SO PROUD LIKE THESE ARE MY CHILDREN

yn_porsche Zeit, Rennen zu fahren 🫡🫡

arthur_leclerc I am going to pretend I understand what you are saying

yn_porsche someone is going to need to teach you German

milaaa I volunteer as tribute 🫡🫡

yn_porsche ah yes because you are known for your brilliant teaching strategies

milaaa shush

papaporsche Welcome to the team you two! Here’s to an incredible first season in Formula 1

mickschumacher Wir lassen Sie nicht im Stich, Chef

arthur_leclerc Gonna make Porsche proud

sebastianvettel Pleasure to be working with you both 😊

username plsssss he’s such a dad

username and we love him for it

username oh for sure

Charles Leclerc

alors... Y/N Porsche

Arthur Leclerc

frérot c'est quoi ce bordel

#f1 x reader #f1 social media au #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #formula one imagine #writingworlds

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unclewaynemunson · 9 months

Text

It wasn't the first time Eddie woke up to an empty bed after having someone spend the night. But it for sure was the first time it caught him by surprise.

He had been pretty sure things were different, with Steve. There was a real, proper date before they ended up in Eddie's bed together, after all. They held hands, they cuddled, they did all the romantic shit that Eddie used to scoff at and skip right past, before he got to know Steve Harrington. It hadn't felt like it was just about the sex: there had been tender touches and sweet words and soft kisses, and falling asleep in each other's arms afterwards had felt more intimate than anything Eddie had ever experienced before. So it didn't make sense to wake up and see no trace of Steve. No note, not a single piece of evidence that Steve had been there, not even something as dumb as a forgotten sock. Nothing.

As he went through his morning ritual of coffee, cereal and cigarette, he felt confusion make place for anger. By the time he was dressed and looking at himself while brushing his teeth in front of the crappy old bathroom mirror, he wondered how he could ever have been stupid enough to think that Steve would stay. The realization that Steve had apparently only used him to get what he wanted and dropped the act as soon as that happened, made him feel gross. He spit out his toothpaste with way more force than necessary and jumped in his van to tell Steve exactly that Eddie wasn't the kind of guy who tolerated being toyed with like that.

-----

When Eddie barged into Family Video, Steve was standing at one of the shelves with a big pile of tapes in his arms, the store empty and quiet except for some movie playing on the big screen in the background.

He looked up at the sound of the bell, and actually had the audacity to smile a soft, almost tender smile when he saw Eddie coming in.

"Hey there."

And, well, that truly did it for Eddie.

"Hey there?!" he repeated in a loud, shrill voice. "Seriously, Steve? What the hell, man? You sneak out of my bed after making me think what we did actually meant something, and now you greet me with a "hey there" like nothing has even happened?!"

Steve frowned; he looked genuinely surprised. Seriously, had none of the dozens of girls he probably pulled this on ever told him off? Or were they all worth staying for, contrary to Eddie the Freak Munson?

"Wha- What do you mean, making you think it meant something?" Steve stuttered. "It meant something. At least," he shrugged lightly and his cheeks colored into a light shade of pink, "to me it did."

For obvious reasons, Eddie found that a little bit hard to believe.

"Then why the hell did you sneak away at the crack of dawn like it was just some goddamn one-night stand?!"

Steve stared at him for a couple of seconds, his mouth falling open. Eddie had seen him look confused plenty of times before, but never like this - like he was missing something huge.

"I - I was allowed to stay?" Steve finally uttered. And it sounded so genuine, so small, so lost... All Eddie's anger easily got knocked out of him with that one question.

"You thought you weren't allowed to stay?" he asked, in a much softer voice this time.

Steve shrugged, suddenly avoiding Eddie's gaze.

"Yeah, I mean... I just assumed..." He swallowed visibly, seemingly searching for words. Finally, he fixed his eyes back on Eddie's face. "You actually wanted me to stay?" It sounded equal parts confused as hopeful, and the look in his brown eyes was so soft and innocent that it almost broke something inside of Eddie.

"Why the hell did you think I wouldn't?"

"I dunno, I just thought..." He looked away again, to a point just behind Eddie's shoulder as he continued, "Whenever a girl would come to my place, they'd always leave right after we finished. Or when I'd come to theirs, they'd have me leave through the window before their parents would notice. Some of them wanted to cuddle for a bit afterwards, but not, like, the whole night, y'know."

"Fuck, Stevie... I -" Eddie could barely believe what Steve was saying; it truly blew his mind that there were so many people who could have Steve Harrington in their bed and not want to keep him there forever. It made him furious - not at Steve, obviously, but at those girls who had made this perfect boy believe that he wasn't the kind of person people would want to keep around for what came after the sex.

"Falling asleep with you last night... That was the best thing that ever happened to me," he told Steve. It felt vulnerable, to say it out loud, but he knew he had to get it all out in the open. "I mean, don't get me wrong, the things we got up to before falling asleep were also pretty damn mind-blowing..." He couldn't help but chuckle. "But of course I wanted you to stay. I thought that would speak for itself."

"Oh," was the only thing Steve said, just blankly staring at Eddie for a couple of seconds. Then, his eyes widened as Eddie's words finally seemed to sink in. "Shit, Eddie, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"It's okay," Eddie cut him off. "Can you uh," he nodded towards the video tapes in Steve's hands, "Put those away, please?"

Steve placed the pile on the shelf behind him and Eddie immediately launched himself into his arms, pulling him as close as humanly possible without crushing his bones.

With a surprised Oomph! Steve took a few stumbling steps backwards before he caught his balance again, and hugged Eddie back just as tight.

"I'm really sorry, I messed up," he said, his mouth close to Eddie's ear. "I had no idea. If I had known, I would never have left, seriously. I would've called in sick and made you pancakes, and I would've stayed with you in bed all day."

"It's okay," Eddie repeated. "I mean, it's frankly ridiculous that you'd assume I wouldn't want you around every single fucking morning from now on, but -"

"So can I make it up to you tonight?" Steve interrupted him, an eager undertone to his question. "Or actually tomorrow morning, I guess?"

Eddie leaned back slightly to see Steve's face. He was hesitantly smiling at him, and Eddie gave him a beaming smile in return. Then, he leapt forward again to press an impetuous kiss against Steve's lips.

"How 'bout you make it up to me every day from now on, big boy?"

"I dunno, making you pancakes every day from now on is a bit much, don't you think?"

Eddie laughed. "Then the deal's off, sorry."

"What if we take turns?"

He pretended to think for a moment. "Alright, I think I can live with that," he finally concluded, letting Steve pull him closer again to steal another kiss. And as long as he could taste Steve's lips, he couldn't care less about pancakes.

#look i know we all go crazy for the trope of steddie waking up and being surprised the other is still there #or one of them waking up to an empty bed only to find the other in the kitchen making breakfast #but have something a lil more painful instead i guess #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fruity ficlet

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jamminvroomvroom · 2 months

Text

no more mister shy guy.

OP x fem!reader

in which you can’t work out why he just won’t sleep with you

i am neither normal, nor am i hinged! i hope you guys get the vision, i literally wrote this last night possessed by some feral urge bc i just love oscar sm and i’ve been needing to write for him sooo baaad. enjoy! pls lemme know what you think <3

songs to set the vibes: delicate by taylor swift, good looking by suki waterhouse, my kind of woman by max demarco, feeling myself by wolf alice

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp but also there is some plot? overstimulation, crying in a hot way, choking, unprotected sex (L bozo don’t do that!) the most minor moment of angst, fluff

2.8k words

you watch him make coffee, daydreaming, balancing your heavy head on your hand. you study him while your free hand taps against the kitchen counter, nails drumming a random beat. sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, framing him golden. you don’t think he knows how pretty he is.

oscar is oblivious to the way your mind is ticking behind him, twisting the cap on the carton of oat-milk. you hear the plastic fall onto the counter and your tongue wets your lower lip as he reaches up into the cupboard, his back flexing beneath his shirt as he finds your favourite mug. you realise then how swollen your lip is, snapped out of the trance he had you in, the one that had you biting your lip so hard, completely mindlessly.

he’s bulked up over the winter break, filled out a lot over the course of his rookie season. he’s no longer the scrawny, anxious guy you’d met at your fathers work event a year ago, he’s broader, thicker in your hands, utterly delicious. as much as you like the way he looks, you like his mind a whole lot more. if only you knew what was going on inside it.

oscar is an enigma, quiet, hilariously dry, the kindest man you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. you’ve been together since the start of the winter break, november, after awkward run ins and plenty of pining since the start of his first season. you’d travel to races with your dad, a mclaren sponsor, and run into the australian, stare at each other and pretend no one noticed. after months of teasing from lando, oscar finally got the kick up the arse that he needed and you’d said yes to dinner before he’d even finished asking the question.

it’s february now, a week til he needs to be in bahrain. the last three months had been serene, spent with a man made of sunshine, and you’re sad to see him go, as if you won’t be in the emirates a mere four days after him. you fear the way you’ll ache for him, having been inseparable since the dinner that started it all.

but then again, it can’t be worse than the way you ache for him now.

“sweetheart?” oscar is waving his hand in front of your face when you realise he’s been calling your name for a good 15 seconds, and you have, in fact, been staring. hm? you jump, staring at him bewildered. he looks amused. “you okay?” he coos, sliding the coffee across the island towards you.

“yeah, sorry, i, um, i just- why won’t you have sex with me?” you blurt, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you realise what you’ve just said.

oscar just blinks, mouth forming a little o, the permanent blush he seems to have increasing tenfold. you instantly feel guilty for ambushing him, but you were at the end of your tether. three months of nothing, nada, zilch. every move you made was refuted, ignored as if he was oblivious. you were ravenous for him, he’s so gorgeous! and you didn’t want to pressure him, but you were starting to feel like there was something wrong with you.

you’d wake up in bed with him wrapped around you, grinding against your ass in his sleep, and you’d revel in it, the rare times that he actually seemed to want you like that. you loved him regardless, of course you did, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need to be… dealt with. urgently.

“i- um- what?” oscar splutters, and the bottom of his mug blinks against the granite.

“is there something wrong with me? am i not pretty enough?” you whisper, shy. “do you just not… like- do you not want to do that?” you ramble.

panic fills his face, and he’s rushing around the island, by your side in an instant. he takes your hands into his, finding your eyes. they’ve grown watery, a mixture of guilt and desperation swirling in them which makes him feel ill.

“baby, no, god no.” he rushes the words out, desperate to convince you that it wasn’t you. “you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world, prettiest girl i ever saw.” he promises. “i’m just… it’s scary.”

“oh, osc.” your face falls, and you want to throw yourself off of the balcony. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you. if it makes you feel better, i’m scared too. but i love you so much, i just want to feel even closer to you.”

“you didn’t make me feel pressured, i’m just sorry i made you feel unwanted. trust me, i want you like that. drives me insane. but i’ve never had sex before with someone that i love. not the way i love you, anyway. scared that i won’t be good enough for you.” he murmurs.

you’re hung up on the part where you drive him crazy, the part where he loves you like that, and then you remember how vulnerable he’s being, baring his entire soul to you, and you rip yourself from the fantasy.

your hands smooth over his shoulders, until you’re softly fisting a clump of hair at the nape of his neck.

“i love you. insanely. we’ll go slow.” you state. he moulds further against you, and you quickly realise it’s for leverage, because the next thing you know, you’re in his arms. he has his hands hooked under your thighs and he’s kissing you so, so deeply that you’re dizzy. you don’t realise that you’re halfway to his bedroom until he pulls away.

“i don’t wanna go slow anymore.”

oscar places you on your feet at the end of his bed, the large, plush king-sized mattress that is currently calling both of your names. your blouse gets unbuttoned first, his hands shaking in a way that makes you melt, and his lips trail over every inch of bare skin that he uncovers. when it finally falls to the floor, his pupils are blown wide, his hands palming intricate black lace. your jeans are stripped away mercilessly, his hands shaking less now, and you take it as a sign to crawl backwards onto the bed.

he stands there, watching you, apprehensive again. you can see how hard he is, how desperately strained his cock is through the light grey of his sweatpants, and so you switch tactics. your hand grazes your tummy, skimming up your abdomen until you reach a bra strap. you toy with the elastic, holding the kind of eye contact that makes him twitch, tugging it until it hangs loosely off of your shoulder.

“i need you, osc. i trust you.” you utter, soft and enticing. one finger runs under the cup of your bra, flicking over your nipple. he can just about see the hardened bud through the lace of your bra. it’s not enough, though, and every ounce of self control depletes when you whine, “want you inside of me so badly.”

the elastic band snaps and he’s on top of you, rutting between your legs like a man starved. you drag his shirt up and over his shoulder blades, moaning as you feel each and every muscle under your fingertips.

“just wanna make you feel good.” oscar rasps, rolling his hips even harder into your core.

“take these off.” you beg, pulling at the waistband of his joggers. he somehow musters the strength to pry himself off of you, just long enough to discard the uncomfortable material of his sweats, but as soon as he looks down, his plans change.

painted over the crotch of them is a shiny pool of your slick, and when his eyes flit hungrily to your core, he sees where you’ve soaked through your panties. you’re panting when you see the stain, and you just want to get him inside of you, but his priorities have changed. oscar collapses between your legs, head buried, tongue exploring.

he groans, carnal and needy, into the fabric of your underwear, laving his tongue over the lace. your eyes widen as he dives in, licking over the wet patch until he grows frustrated. you hear the tearing of the fabric, feel his big hands pawing at your thighs to spread them as wide as they’ll go. his tongue slides right inside of you and he whines. he fucking whines. the vibration nearly makes you scream. you can’t believe this is your oscar, the same oscar that had quivered with nerves a mere five minutes ago.

“oh my god.” you chant, rolling your hips against his face. you must be all over him by now, what with the way he’s sucking and slurping, obscene sounds of wetness sounding around the room. you’d be blushing a deep red if you weren’t so turned on, shaking against his bedspread which will probably need changing once he’s done with you.

you thought that maybe he was inexperienced and that was the source of his fear, but if he was, you never would have known. he was a natural in between your legs, nipping at your clit to get you even louder for him.

you cum faster than ever, and he’s mumbling something incoherent into your pussy when you do. you’re riding the high, midway through the bliss, when a thick finger slips its way inside of you. oscar realises that he can easily slide another in, and he does. he doesn’t thrust them in and out, he grinds them against your walls, and your mouth falls open as a silent scream forces it’s way out.

you cum a second time, in record time yet again, and he still doesn’t let up. he’s hitting that spot relentlessly with his fingers, keeping your clit between his swollen lips, and you’re begging him. for what, you’re not sure, but you’re whimpering his name like you’re going to die. and what a good way to go this would be.

his eyes meet yours, and he looks unhinged. that’s when you feel it. that all consuming, belly twisting rush.

“oscar!” you try to warn him, but it’s too late, and he knows it. he makes you squirt, because of course he does. the shy guy who was scared that he wouldn’t be able to please you makes you squirt.

he pulls his mouth off of you but keeps his fingers buried deep, eyes fixed on watching the way your pussy convulses.

“holy shit.” you cry. you’re staring down at him like you’ve gone insane. he’s smiling innocently.

“was that good?” he almost sounds shy and you want to kick him.

“are you… are you serious?” you rasp. oscar just shrugs. “get up here.” you reach for him and complies, slotting himself between your legs once more.

oscar resumes the rolls of his hips, and the friction of the grey fabric against your core makes your eyes roll back.

“please, oscar, fuck me.” you whine, his head falling into the crook of your neck. he bites down, leaving behind the sting of his teeth and a faint purple splotch.

“fucking love you.” he slurs, his accent thickening in a way that makes him sound that extra bit fucked out already.

“i love you.” you murmur, forcing his sweats down his legs. his boxers are wet, just like your panties were, and you can’t help but stare. oh, it’s big.

his boxers are peeled down and you can feel yourself throbbing. his cock hangs heavy, red and dripping, painfully hard. you reach for it, looking at him to make sure it’s okay to touch, and he’s rapidly nodding his head. your small hand struggles but you make it work, and his head tips back, exposing his thick neck that you want to suck purple. your hand works over him a few times, and a visible shiver running through his body makes you stop.

“you ready for me?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“please.” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “however you want me, ‘m yours.” you breathe.

oscar’s eyes roll back in his head, your words sending his brain blank, and then he’s pushing home, slow and deep.

“fucking hell.” he groans, guttural. you’re so tight, warm, soaking wet. he feels like the biggest idiot in the world for waiting so long for this.

“oh.” you gasp, your eyebrows knitting together. he’s so deep. “so full.” you pant.

“can you take it, sweetheart?” oscar’s lips bump your jaw. “want you to take it.” you nod profusely, desperate to hear him run his mouth even further. your eyes clench shut when you feel him move, just the tiniest bit, readjusting.

“move.” you plead. he’s staring down at you, watching every single micro movement of your face.

oscar pulls out the smallest bit and thrusts back in, nice and slow. the drag drives you feral, the weight of him on top of you makes you weak. you want to stay like this until the end of days.

“good?” he hisses, trying to keep composed. he’s finally inside of you, claiming you as his in the most intimate way of all. he tries not to think about how many times he could have had you begging under him in the last three months.

“so good, so good.” you repeat, pushing your hips up to try and meet his.

“so pretty like this for me. always so, so pretty.” he rambles. he realises that he never quite made it as far as getting your bra off, and he needs to see all of you. the cups are tugged haphazardly down, and oscar stares at your breasts like he’s never seen tits before. you hear him hum, low and greedy, and then you feel the wet drag of his tongue across your nipple.

the animalistic whine that he rips from you makes him thrust harder, upping his pace a bit. he can hear how much wetter you get when he picks up his pace, and he changes up his rhythm, pushing all the way in and dragging out again at lightning speed. your jaw goes slack and your eyes are damp.

“baby, what’s wrong?” oscar slows to a stop, and you want to scream.

“no, no, no, keep going.” you choke out, your throat constricting with a sob. “it’s so good. feel so good.” you sound drunk, all for him, and he loses his mind completely.

he taps into that athletic stamina, fucking into you with a newfound vigour that you didn’t think was humanly possible, and you feel things that you didn’t even know you could feasibly feel. you see stars behind your eyes, his face, and nothing else but bright white. calloused fingers find your clit, and you wonder fleetingly if he’s trying to kill you when he rubs messy shapes into the much too overstimulated bud. his teeth graze your nipple, and everything seems to come together perfectly.

thick tears run hot down your cheeks, only to be licked away by eager tongue. your belly tightens, aflame for him; he’s wound your body up perfectly and you’ve never in your life teetered so dangerously over the edge.

“can feel you, baby. want you to cum, okay? ‘n then i’m gonna fill you up.” oscar grunts. you clamp down on him even tighter, thanking god for oscar’s filthy fucking mouth and birth control, and then everything snaps.

you think you scream, you know that you’re sobbing, and your throat is raw when the wave hits. oscar keeps going, intensifying your pleasure, and when he finally let’s go, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen. it’s surreal, the way his neck flexes, eyes clenched tight, brown locks flopping over his sweat damped forehead. and the sounds he makes, god. he’s muttering into your ear, lewd and shameless, and a fifth orgasm nearly takes you under.

“gonna need you everyday like this, tight fucking pussy, all mine. can’t live without this now. fucking perfect.” he’s rambling, burrowing deep into you one last time. you feel his warmth spilling into you, feel his hot breath fanning your face. he licks into your awaiting mouth.

“fuck.” you giggle, breathless.

“good?” he raises an eyebrow, grinning bashfully.

“more than worth the wait.” you whisper, mustering the strength to lift your head just enough so that you can peck his lips. “you better not hold out on me ever again though.” oscar laughs at that and you feel the rumble in your flushed chest.

“you promise?” there’s the shy guy again.

“osc, honey, that was the best. ever. ever. need you to be mr sex god more often.”

“only if you behave for me.” he smirks down at you.

“there he is.” you sigh happily.

when he snakes his way back between your legs, lapping up the mess he’s made, and then some, you wonder just what you’ve unleashed.

whoops? lol

taglist

@thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @charli123456789

(run outta space on my taglist lol, lemme know if u wanna be added or removed)

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myfictionaldreams · 2 months

Text

Today's Lesson: Don't Catch Feelings // James Potter x Fem!Reader

PART 1 (Dry Hump) // PART 3

Summary: It was meant to be a one-time moment. A friend helping another friend who'd never been kissed before. So now, when your best friend finally gets the girl he's wanted to impress, why are you filled with such jealousy.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, jealousy, friends w/benefits, can be interpreted as cheating but there's no official relationship, kinda love triangle, sex education, fingering, mutual pining, arguing, regret, kissing, drinking, fake orgasm (w/ other m character), dry humping, voyeurism, loss of virginity (James), praise kink, creampie, riding, cliff hanger! -- sorry if I've forgotten any tags

Words: 6.4k

Tags list: @bellathethirstybitch, @kenqkii, @ghostlycrystobalove, @anehkael, @1-800-ididurmum, @imdoingbetternow ~ Y'all asked to be tagged in the comments. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write a part 2! Thanks for your support.

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

"Move your thumb to the right. Yes, that's it! Right there - fuck James, don't stop! Yes! Yes! Oh-!" Even with the silencing charm around the room, you were sure the entirety of Hogwarts could hear you cumming hard around James' fingers curling inside your cunt as his thumb - now in the right place - circled your throbbing clit.

The tips of your fingers ached with how firmly you were digging them into his muscularly toned shoulders, probably bruising him, but he never commented on this. The messy-haired man just continued to listen to your instructions, putting more enthusiasm into these moments than in any lesson here at Hogwarts.

Even as your walls clenched tightly around his digits, he didn't stop. However, you were now quietened as he sloppily made out with you, swallowing your cries of euphoria until there was nothing left to give, and your moans turned into a laugh.

James groaned as you pulled away from his swollen lips, gently tugging on his wrist to ease his fingers out of you. "Woah there, Tiger, that was plenty good enough. Any more and I'll probably collapse", laughing as he pouted with his lower lip, his hazel eyes half-lidded and pupils blown in a clear display of arousal.

"So it was good?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, not moving his face away from hovering over yours.

"It was more than good, Potter. You're very good at listening to instructions, and your skills are improving with each orgasm, that's for sure", you praise whilst pushing his glasses up his nose as he smirks handsomely in response. James turned to kiss the tip of your fingers as you couldn't help but giggle once more at the action, your feet hooking around the backs of his knees as you tried to pull him closer to the edge of the desk.

But, like everything perfect in your life, you became your own worst enemy as you couldn't help as the words slipped out, "You'll have Lily orgasming before her underwear's off". It was meant to be a joke, but it only reminded you why you were even in this situation.

The smile faltered for a split second on James' face as he dipped his head to look at the floor, his hair now curtaining your view of him. "That's the plan", he chuckles as he begins to casually suck on his still-soaked fingers as your jaw drops at the sight.

"James!" you exclaim as he returns his gaze to you. His look of innocence for the act only added to the desiring pulse in your core.

"What? Sirius said that there's nothing more tasty than a pretty girl. Seems he was right", he casually remarked with a shrug of his shoulders. All air seemed to rush from your lungs at the compliment that quickened your heart's beat and warmed your cheeks' skin.

You were once more captivated by his eyes as he inched closer, and the hardness still contained in his trousers poked your inner thigh. "Need some help?" you asked curiously, teasingly, reaching between your bodies to palm him.

James' eyes lowered to focus on your lips as he licked his own, wetting them, and all you wanted to do was taste him, but then he took a step back, your legs and hand stopping away from his warmth.

"Nah, I'll sort it later, don't worry", he explains whilst beginning to smooth the uncontrollable mop of black hair on his head.

A heavy sinking feeling settled in your chest as you realised you'd probably overstepped the thin line between what the two of you had been doing for the last couple of weeks.

James Potter, your best friend, had been since the first year at Hogwarts. Both were thick as thieves and when he'd previously admitted to never having kissed someone before and had finally convinced his long-time crush to date, he needed the practice as the fear of Lily turning him away for any bad kissing skills. As the good friend that you were, you offered to teach him how to kiss, which promptly ended with you both dry-humping to orgasms.

After, James had been on his date and returned, particularly thanking you on his knees as his kiss with Lily had been everything he had ever wanted. However, after this, it was like a drug you both couldn't get enough of. One lesson turned into another and another. How to touch a girl with and without clothes, t the right way to touch and kiss breasts, and now how to use his fingers.

Nothing penetrative yet, and it had all been about teaching him about pleasing girls, so you'd yet to touch him because that would mean you were both hooking up for satisfaction rather than education.

You were unsure where the lines were becoming blurred in your heart and mind. James had always just been your goofy best friend. Mr Popular at Hogwarts would go above and beyond to make you laugh or protect those he cares for, and he continued to be like this for you. However, the rooms felt too small when you were both in them. You spent way too much time fantasising about the feel of his hands or the taste of his lips that you'd yet to look at any other man since that first kiss in the Shrieking Shack.

Then, there came the added complication of Lily. Lily was also a close friend, and even though James and her were not officially boyfriend or girlfriend yet, the way he pined for her and the more dates they went on, the more you were filled with dread. It felt as if you were betraying her with your want for James. Even with the lessons, you knew if ever caught; it was almost impossible to explain that it was all for Lily's benefit in a fucked up sort of way.

You were essentially teaching the man you were falling in love with how to pleasure your friend for their future. All the while, you were becoming more emotionally involved than you'd ever meant to be. I mean, you had casually slept with numerous people during the last year at Hogwarts; sex and feelings were two things you were able to separate.

So now, you were unsure what had changed for you to fall for the man who was so evidently in love with someone else.

"Are you coming?"

His deep voice drew you out of your spiralling thoughts as you blinked at him in confusion. "Coming?"

"Yeah, to class?" he asked, picking up his bag and pulling the strap over his shoulder.

"Oh, yes, I just need a minute. You go without me anyway; we haven't got the same class next", you say whilst standing and trying not to wince at the dampness between your legs that had spread your thighs.

"You sure? I don't mind walking you", James ensured as he pulled on the tight area of his trousers around his crotch, but then gave up and covered his erection with his bag.

"I'm sure we're on opposite ends of Hogwarts anyway. I'll catch you later, Potter", you confirm whilst straightening your tie and shirt.

"Alright then, Sweetheart, catch you later".

With one more beautiful grin', he's off. Then you're by yourself and left to slump back onto the desk and rethink your life. However, you couldn't dwell on it as the clock tower bell began to ring, indicating the start of lessons. As you cursed to yourself, picking up your wand from your bag and waving it over your body, your clothes instantly corrected yourself, and the wet mess between your legs vanished.

You were utterly breathless by the time you'd arrived at potions, and it took a great deal of effort to ignore the lingering ache in your pussy as you attempted to sneak into the room.

"Ah, at last. Welcome miss! Please take a seat; we haven't started without you, dear," Professor Slughorn declared as he held his hand out toward your usual classroom seat as everyone stared at you.

Trying to ignore everyone's eyes, you rush to your seat beside Lily, that heavy, unwelcomed feeling returned to your stomach as she smiles at you, leaning close to whisper, "I told him you were in the bathroom, so he said he'd wait for you before starting the lesson".

You return her smile, however forced as you thanked her and turned your gaze back to the professor. Before long, Lily's sweet perfume drifted into your senses as she leaned in closer once more to ask, "Who's the lucky guy?"

A sharp pain shot through your neck with the speed with which you looked at her, "I don't know what you mean; I was actually using the bathroom".

She tilts her head to the side with an all-knowing look. "Mmm hmm, sure, sure. So why is your lipstick smudged then, huh?"

Your fingers quickly moved to the corner of your lips, frantically wiping away any residual lipstick when it dawned on you that you'd not put any make-up on this morning and had fallen for her trick.

Glaring at her, Lily gave you a brilliant smile whilst moving some of her luscious red hair behind her shoulder, declaring, "I can read you like a book; don't forget that".

Rolling your eyes, you playfully nudge your shoulder against hers, deciding to ignore the previous question. For some reason, unbeknown to yourself, you couldn't help but ask, "So how's it going with Potter?"

Internally, you were criticising yourself for even asking and showing interest in it, already knowing that the answer was something you honestly didn't wish to know.

Lily's grin softened until her lips pursed, and she began to write down the instructions from Professor Slughorn in the book on her desk. "It's going ok; I mean, he's definitely more of a gentleman than I thought he was ever capable of. I also think the exams are getting to him a little; he seems distracted at the moment".

This piqued your interest as you began arranging your ingredients before you, chopping whatever was closest to you without the slightest attention as you asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, we were on head boy and girl duty two nights ago, and he always used to joke that he wanted a quiet corner away with me in a classroom or something, but now that you know, I'm more open to that. He seems distracted. He still holds my hands and gives me compliments and a kiss or two that makes me want more, but by the end of the duty, he will either find his friends or go to bed".

You swallow thickly, asking, "Oh really? So you guys haven't - I mean, you haven't done anything other than kissing?"

Lily's cheek blossomed with colour as she continued her prep for the potion before her. "No, not yet; I mean, I want to; he's a great kiss, but nothing so far. It still feels strange not to be cursing at him to get out of my sight, like I never pictured myself to be in this position, and maybe it's also taking him some time to get used to".

You were only half listening to what your friend was saying as your thoughts screamed at the fact he was only a good kisser because he'd practised with you. Also, the tiny part of you that was cheering her heart out at the fact that you were the only girl he'd touched intimately, for now.

"Psst. Oi! Goldie! Pea! Turn around. I know you can hear me", came the annoying whisper as you and Lily both glanced over your shoulders to Sirius, who was leaning across his desk, grinning from ear to ear, his shoulder-length hair tied at the nape of his neck.

You huffed, glaring at Sirius as you reminded him, "I've told you a thousand times not to call me that!"

The Marauder sarcastically sticks out his bottom lip, "But it's an endearing name, Pea!"

"No, it's not! It's bullying!" you remind him, turning further towards where he and Remus sat, the latter politely declining the conversation to continue with his work.

"It's not my fault you vomited peas in second year", Sirius pointed out with a cocky smirk.

Thankfully, Lily cut off your retort as she snapped, "Stop reminding her of that. I've told you that my hair is red and not gold!"

"Meh, semantics", he shrugs and appears eager again. "What are you both doing after this? We were thinking of getting a group of us together and heading down to Hogsmeade. Do you both wanna join? I'm sure James would want you there".

That nauseous sensation returned as you knew he wasn't referring to you as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively towards Lily. One part of you desperately begged not to go, not wishing to see Lily and James acting all lovey-dovey in public, and another part of you knew it would look suspicious if you weren't to attend. Who else were you expected to hang out with on a Friday evening other than your best friend, James?

Lily answered for you as she wrapped an arm around your shoulders, "Of course, we'll both be there, but not to hang out with you; we don't need boys to have a good time".

You smile at her, forgetting all of your woes for a moment, watching as she adds a sprig of Rosemary into your potion and watching it change from the awful shade of red to a soft caramel colour to match hers.

"What would I do without you?" you say with admiration.

"I don't know, crash and burn?" she jokes, pulling a genuine smile from yourself.

Later in the evening, the two of you were true to Lily's word as you made your way there, joined with Marlene, and, not wanting to go with the boys, gave yourself some time to dress in something other than school clothes, opting for jeans and a warm jumper.

The three of you wandered through Hogsmeade, stopping in Honeydukes for a sweet treat before deciding to rest in the Three Broomsticks; however, you found what seemed to be the rest of your school year in the same place. There was hardly a free seat as the three of you pushed through the crowd to the bar.

"Evans! Over here!" James' voice shouted above the noise of everyone else from the corner of the room. Lily giggled as she waved over at him, and you tried not to wince with jealousy as you pushed her and Marlene in his direction.

"Go over there, I'll get the drinks". Thankfully, they didn't need much convincing before making their way over to the other Gryffindor. "Three butterbeers, please. Oh, and a large fire whiskey as well", you say, slipping the barmaid Rosmerta an extra galleon so she wouldn't question your age. You were old enough to drink, but there was a swift ban on students at Hogwarts being sold alcohol, but an extra galleon here and there, and no questions were asked.

As you waited for your drinks to be poured, you observed your surroundings and noticed a certain Ravenclaw watching you over the rim of his glass, a smirk flirting on his lips. You smiled back, holding his eye contact briefly before looking away from Quirinus. He was in Ravenclaw and relatively bright, if not a bit of a nervous nelly if he didn't have any alcohol in his system, which, by the looks of things, he was a few drinks deep and clearly in a flirtatious mood.

You were ready to make bad decisions when a hand on your lower back snapped your attention. The touch burned through your clothes to your skin as James appeared by your side. His face lowered so that he whispered into your ear as he questioned, "Is it bad that I can still smell you on my fingers?"

You swallow harshly, fighting to keep your face neutral as you couldn't help but quip back, "I'm sure your girlfriend would love to hear you say that".

James leans away to study your face, a frown adorning his expression, "She's not my girlfriend".

"Yeah, sure", you retort, turning away from him to nod at Rosmerta as she placed the drinks in front of you at the bar.

"Well, if she were my girlfriend, my fingers definitely wouldn't be smelling of you now, would they?"

The fire of jealousy that was being stoked in your heart was only being fueled further by his words. "I'm sure she could teach you a thing or two, Potter. You don't need me to taint your fingers".

"Maybe I do", he quickly responds but then corrects himself, "I mean, I don't think she has much experience. Anyway, you didn't mind it earlier when you were begging for more".

You turn to him with a glare that had him relaxing his stance as he realised he was on the threshold of overstepping. "Don't be so sure of yourself, James, and with the lack of experience you both have, wouldn't it be better for you both to be inexperienced together?"

Picking up the fire whiskey, you began to take heaving glugs of it, savouring the painful burn as it slipped down your throat. James eyed the drink as he leaned closer once more, his body half crowding around yours as he harshly whispered, "Where the fuck is this all coming from? I thought you were ok with what we were doing. It's nothing serious, just one single friend teaching another single friend, right?"

Yes, you answer in your thoughts, having not taken the fire whiskey away from your mouth, but then he's grabbing the glass and trying to take it away from you as he demands, "Hey, slow down, alright? You'll be pissed with the hour".

Giving him a shove with your shoulder, you spitefully say, "You aren't my boyfriend, Potter; stop telling me what to do. I want to drink, so get lost".

The concern in his hazel eyes drops as he looks at the two butterbeer, asking, "Are these McKenna and Evans? I'll take them and leave you to calm down".

"Thank fucking Merlin", you exclaimed with one final glare before he stormed off with the two drinks in hand.

You blew a long breath through your mouth, trying to ignore the overwhelming urge to scream, cry, or storm out. However, a brush of an arm against yours stole your attention as Quirinus now stood next to you at the bar, his Ravenclaw-coloured jumper vibrant in the candlelight.

"Fancy another firewhiskey?" he asked, and you nodded, not trusting yourself to be able to talk without crying.

The drinks came at a steady pace, and before long, you were feeling the effects, the anxiety that had hit you like the Hogwarts Express train from your argument with James had fizzled into anger. It only made matters worse when you would glance over the Ravenclaw's shoulder to see James wrapped his arm around Lily's shoulder, the two of them whispering to one another without a care.

A lump formed in your throat as the world tilted for a second. Quirinus noticed your glare as he, too, looked over his shoulder and assumed you'd prefer to sit with your friends as he offhandedly mentioned, "If you'd rather go and sit with them, I wouldn't be offended, you know".

"What?" you say, snapping out of your staring contest as you realise James is now staring right back at you with just as deep a frown behind his glasses. Giving your attention back to the man at your side, you quickly grabbed his arm, not wishing to be left alone, "Sorry, Quirrel, I really do want to stay with you. In fact, why don't we find somewhere a bit more quiet?"

The alcohol was definitely speaking on your behalf as his eyes lit up, his teeth nipping at his lower lip as he stood to his full height. "Ye-Yeah, I want to do that", he stammers enthusiastically as you grab his arm and head towards the back of the pub and climb the stairs, ensuring no one is following.

Sneaking past the bathrooms, you ascended even further into the depths of the pub until you found a spare living room with a sofa in front of the fire as you claimed, "This will do perfectly".

Turning around and before you could ponder any further on the man you really wished was here and deciding you needed to have some fun of your own, you grabbed the collar of Quirrel jumper and pulled him in for an eager kiss. However, the door barges open as you both spring apart.

You release a nervous laugh as you see no one is there, quickly rushing over to it and shutting the door, locking it properly with a wave of your wand. "Oops, must not have locked it".

Turning back towards Quirrel, he eagerly eyed you up and down. Not giving yourself time to regret the decision, you ran over to him, your arms moving around his neck as you pulled him into a quick snog. It was sloppy and distracting as he kissed you back with just as much eagerness.

It seemed Quirrell wasn't in the mood to wait as he soon fumbled with the button to your jeans. You silently have to give him some credit if he was going straight to the good without even touching your tits or kissing your neck. You wanted a distraction, and the fingers slipping into your underwear were definitely a distraction.

Especially as he began to vigorously rub your left labia rather than your clit. Attempting to shift your hips in your favour, he kept his fingers in the same dry spot, assuming your hip movements were a sign that he was doing a good job.

Great, you thought. Your love life was now just as dry and useless as your friend's life. Just fantastic.

Deciding there was still some hope left, your fingers moved into your jeans, your hand cupping the back of his fingers and moving them to finally circle your clit. However, the dryness and eagerness that he was moving made you feel overstimulated and ready for it to be over as fake moans began to spill from your lips.

"Fuck, you're so pretty", Quirinus moaned against your lips as he suddenly pulled back, but only so he could turn you on the spot and lean you awkwardly against the back of the sofa. Two things then started. One, his fingers shifted again back to the poor labia and away from your clit and two, he began to hump into your arse like a dog in heat.

Your eyes closed as you continued to fake the moans as his lips found the side of your neck as he nuzzled into you and continued with his pleasurable humps. You knew you could push him aside at any time, but for now, he was distracting you, even if you weren't finding any pleasure in it.

"Fuck you're so wet. Do you like that?" he asked, biting your neck like a vampire as you refrained from rolling your eyes.

Instead, you faked your seductive voice as you moaned, "Mmm yes, feels so good", even though you were pretty sure the wetness he was feeling was just sweat, as there was no way you were wet for this guy.

Matching the eagerness of his moans, you pretended to be close to orgasm just as his thrusts increased in speed, and your thighs began to ache as he pushed you harder and harder into the back of the sofa.

"Fuck!!" he cursed loudly into your ear as he came, and you two pretended to also orgasm, breathing heavily whilst bending over slightly to put some room between the two of you. As his fingers removed from your underwear, he proclaimed, "That was so good, wow. Hey, do you want to go on a date or something-".

His abrupt stop in the sentence has you turning with a questioning gaze but stopping short, seeing his face turn a pasty shade of green.

"Are you ok- Shit!" you quickly move out of his way as his hand covers his mouth, eyes bulge in panic, and he runs towards the door, wordlessly waving his wand and dashing out of the door with the promise of going to vomit.

You're unsure whether to be worried for his well-being and sudden turn or offended that he had suddenly become so unwell. Either way, you were well and truly finished with the day. Buttoning up your jeans, you began to move towards the open door and back down to the loud mass of students downstairs, but the door slamming in your face and audibly locking had you halting.

"What the fuck?" you question under your breath, rushing towards the door and twisting the handle, but it was thoroughly locked. "Alohamora" with a wave of your wand, you'd expected the door to unlock, but even this didn't work as panic slowly began to set in as you started to wonder if this was some trap in the room for people who sneak in. "Shit! Please open, please, please, please!" you repeat with more urgency as you continue to try and spell the door open, but then a low behind you in the empty room has you screaming and turning until your back is pressed against the door.

"He didn't make you cum”, James stated with venom laced in his words as he revealed himself from underneath his invisibility cloak.

"James?! What the fuck- have you been there the entire time?!" you hissed in rage, your body becoming hot all over as realisation dawned on you.

"Why did you fake an orgasm with him?" he asked, repeating the same subject as before as he stepped closer to you from where he was leaning against the desk at the opposite end of the room.

"You can't just follow me around, James! That's so fucking creepy, and wait - did you hex Quirrell? Is that why he was sick?"

"He fucking deserved it for not making you cum”, he declares as his body trembles with the restrained anger flowing through his veins, the vein in his throat bulging as he takes a step towards you.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you begin to pace in front of the fire, rubbing your hands over your face as you go through about every emotion humanly possible. "I don't understand you whatsoever! Who are you to judge who and how I spend my time? You never cared before, so why now?" Turning to face him, you see the anger that seems to have disappeared from his body as he slowly steps towards you, his eyes unblinking as they bore into yours, full of rich emotion that you were too frightened to name.

You felt breathless as he stepped into your personal space. The fire crackled to your side and illuminated half of his handsome face, reflecting off the glasses already beginning to slide down his nose as he peered down at you, and you had to clench your fist to stop yourself from pushing them back up again.

James was still wearing his school uniform, you noticed, giving yourself the slightest distraction from the anger and confusion pulsing through your body.

Your mouth suddenly felt dry as you asked quietly, "How did you know I was faking it?"

James breathed in through his nose as his eyes scoured your face. "There were a few obvious signs". You became utterly captivated with every word he had to say as he lifted his fingers, gently held your chin, and began to tilt your face further up to his as he lowered his own so there was only a breath width between the tips of your noses.

"One, you always hold your breath just as you're tipping over the edge. Two, your eyes were open; you usually close them as you become lost in the moment", he numbered off whilst gently kissing the corner of your lips and like every other time recently, your body reacted instantly to the touches, pulsing and begging for more but then he listed the final sign. You truly became wholly lost to James Potter. "And third, the reason I know you didn't orgasm was because you weren't saying my name".

A soft moan escaped your parted lips as he had you hypnotised and, blaming it once more entirely on the alcohol, closed the gap between both of your mouths.

The kiss was everything you could have ever wanted for a first romantic kiss with someone you had a crush on. However, it meant so much more. Barriers were being broken, friendships snapped for potentially a lifetime, and yet it was what you needed—more than the air in your lungs, than the heat blazing from the fire. You needed James, and he evidently needed you.

The gentle and tentative touch of your lips lasted for a single breath, and then all restraint keeping you back was released as both of you gripped each other fiercely. Your fingers wove through his soft hair, pulling him down firmly as his arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you until both of your chests were pushed together.

Where you'd once been overheating with rage, now you were ablaze with lust. The clothes were too tight and claustrophobic against your skin as you needed to touch his. Thankfully James had the same idea, as both of your faces tilted, the kiss deepening with longing strokes of tongues and swapping of saliva, just like you'd taught him those weeks ago, his hands began to move beneath your clothes frantically.

Before long, your jumper was carelessly dropped to the floor, the same with his tie and shirt. Your fingers explored his toned chest and stomach, enjoying the little hitches of breath that he moaned. However, it was your turn as he moved your bra straps off your shoulders as his nimble fingers unhooked the band at the back with a simple flick, another trick you had taught him last week.

Before you could compliment him, his lips were trailing down your neck, sucking and licking on the sensitive areas until you were mewling with need. However, he didn't stop lowering his face until his lips were wrapped around your nipple, pulling the sensitive bud into his mouth and pressing the flat of his tongue against it.

"James!" you keened, rising to the tips of your toes to press your chest harder into his face, and he loved it from the deep groan he released, his fingers flexing on your lower back.

The Marauder moved from one breast to the next, teasing and nibbling until you were a desperate mess. Gripping onto his hair, you tugged on it, forcing his face away from your tits so that you could go back to kissing him deeply whilst also pulling on his shoulders towards the direction of the sofa.

Catching onto the direction he was being pulled in, James took over the lead as he sat down and pulled you into his lap, where you straddled his thighs. You couldn't help but contemplate how the position mirrored the one that started this entire situation, except now you weren't teaching. He was more leading and dominating the situation.

The hand on your lower back pressed more pressure until your crotch was flush against his. It felt somewhat wrong to have your chests both naked and pressed together, but the rest was still covered with jeans and trousers. However, it didn't stop the moans from escaping either of you as his hands moved your hips so you were grinding on his cock.

"Sweetheart, I need these off. Right fucking now before I combust", James pleaded as he undid the button of your jeans.

"You two then, Potter, off!". Once more, the clothes were off of your body within the blink of an eye until you were both only in underwear. Returning to finding your pussy against his cock, now you could genuinely find some real pleasure as the fabric of your underwear and the shape of his erection pressed against your clit, causing your insides to clench with the need to be filled.

James began to chuckle as his lips wandered down your throat, causing you to sit back and ask, "What's so funny?"

Moving his face closer to yours, he confidently stated, "I can feel how wet you are, even through my boxers". The two of you looked down to see a wet patch had formed over the grey material of his underwear where you'd been rubbing yourself as you realised you'd soaked through your lace material. The smile soon drained from your face as you both looked at one another.

"I need you", you dared to whisper as your hands moved from his shoulders to cup his cheeks, skimming the edge of the metal frames of his glasses.

The Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he repeated the words with just as much passion, "I need you too".

It was almost like an out-of-body experience, your lust and arousal dictating your movements as you both held eye contact as you raised on your knees, pulling aside your underwear as James pushed the waistband of his underwear down to the mid-thigh.

Nothing separated the two of you now, and you could have cried as you positioned the head of his cock at your entrance. His arms moved around your body, hugging you close as he rested his forehead against yours.

"Oh Sweetheart, you feel - holy shit - you feel so good", James gasped as you lowered yourself to his length.

You were shaking with the overwhelming sensations pouring through your body, making just as pleading praises to the man currently stretching your cunt. For once, it wasn't about teaching him anything but just following instincts and responding to each other's bodies. You both took a second to adjust to the new sensations and then you couldn't wait another moment before rolling your hips, easing your body up and down.

The room echoed with the fire crackling and the sound of your drenched cunt being filled with James' cock over and over as he began to find more confidence, meeting your hips midway with his own thrust.

"Yes! Just like that!" you praise, tipping your head back and allowing him to move with his vigour as he fucked into you desperately.

"I- I feel like we're made for each other", he grunts as he looks down at where your bodies meet.

"Me too! James, please don't stop!" You could feel it, that tightening in your core that gave you such pleasure. You felt as if it was too much as it continued to build in the moment, as all you could do was cling to the man beneath you.

"That's it, Sweetheart, I want you to cum for me, say my name and cum”, he demanded as he fucked you as hard as he could, holding onto your shoulder to keep you in position. All air escaped your lungs as your eyes closed, and the tightness in your pleasure exploded in a flurry of clenches as you squeezed his cock through your orgasm, screaming his name like it was the only thing that mattered.

Through your overwhelming pleasure, you were half aware of the shivers and grunts coming from James as he couldn't contain himself any further and came with his shaft buried entirely within you. The thick seed spilt into you, mixing with your own juices and pooling into his lap as it began to slip out as his cock softened.

Heavy breaths and the stink of sex suffocated the small room as you both clung to the tendrils of hope that had bloomed from giving in to temptation.

But like most things, the happiness had to end as his grip loosened on you and the reality of the situation dawned on the both of you.

No more kisses were shared, no more longing looks as you clambered off of his lap, and the two of you began to dress, ignoring the fact that both of your underwear were now coated in bodily fluids.

Just as you pulled your jumper above your head and turned towards the door, James' hand circled yours. "Please don't shut me out, you're my best friend, I can't lose you". You don't say anything, and the emotions that had been threatening to spill all day finally surfaced as tears lined your eyes and your nose became stuffy. James looked devastated by your reaction as he stepped closer, his hands cupping either side of your face. "Did I hurt you? Please tell me you don't regret this".

"I should regret this", you begin to explain, letting the tears slip free, but James' thumb was there to swipe them all away. "But I don't, never with you. The only thing I regret is that this was your first time in this shitty little room and-. And your virginity wasn't meant for me".

James frowns at your words as he kisses your temple for a long second, "I'm pretty sure it's my virginity, and I can do whatever the fuck I want with it and give it to whoever I like. Also, side note, speaking about my virginity like this makes me sound like some virgin sacrifice".

You laugh tearily, leaning into his touch for a moment before stepping out of his grip and moving towards the door, turning the handle but finding it still locked. You couldn't turn around to face him, knowing it would break you to see the sadness in his eyes.

"Please don't go", James pleaded.

"Let me go, James", you whispered, meaning the sentence in more ways than one.

"I can't, Sweetheart", he admits, sounding almost broken.

"You have to. I don't want to be your bit on the side".

"You aren't my bit on the side; I mean, I can't do that to Lily; that's why I haven't asked her to be my girlfriend yet because of what we were doing".

Your heart sank at his words even though you knew he wasn't necessarily saying it to be cruel. "You can't do that to Lily, but you could do that to me? Please, James, please just let me go".

You were greeted with pure silence, and just as you're about to turn around and ask again, the door unlocks, and you're out the door in less than a second, rushing down the staircase and away from what you'd done but not before you're out of earshot as James screams the word "Fuck!" like a broken man.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter smut #james potter one shot #hp smut #hp one shot #mine*

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princessbrunette · 2 months

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˚˖𓍢ִ🐰໋✧˚.🎀୨୧ ⋅˚₊

let’s go back to my roots. let’s talk about girly, prissy, spoiled bunny!reader with rafe.

you’re untouchable, kook royalty just for your attachment to the cameron’s but you don’t even care about all of that. all you care about, is rafes time money and attention.

he loves you a lot, but more so — he puts up with your shit. whilst you don’t have much of an attitude, soft in all corners of your life, you can still manage to be a nightmare. you clutter his sink with your makeup and skincare, decidedly a maximalist when it came to your self care and beautification rituals. he plucks a clump of mink eyelashes from the side of the sink, something he nearly mistook for a spider and sets it aside— only calling out a “jesus chr — bun, told you to clear out your shit. my bathroom looks like fuckin’ sephora. in here, now.” before he hears the soft padding of your feet come tottering along, happy to do as your told.

if that’s not making him huff and puff — it’ll surely be the outfits, moreso scraps of fabric you parade around in. expensive, according to his black card, for items of clothing that cover so little — and he can’t say you don’t get your moneys worth, toddling around in strappy powder pink dresses that leave nothing to the imagination or white mini skirts that cling to the fold of the bottom of your ass cheeks, giving not only the chumps at the country club a good look — but his closest friends too. his life had become a sequence of tugging down your hem, manhandling you to be decent. “you—y-you think i need my fuckin’ friends getting an eyeful of your pussy each time you move? are we gonna have to have another talk about what’s appropriate, bunny girl? huh? or maybe the belt will help you learn a valuable lesson. fuck.” he sulks, stomping around after his threat. you’re clung to his bicep with a dazed smile only five minutes later because his mean treatment usually flew through one bedazzled ear and came out the other. soft and dopey as ever.

back to him ‘putting up with you’, there’s a ton of reasons why that is. like aforementioned, he does love you a lot. you’re his little prized possession, his trophy. you were soft in all the ways that mattered and understanding, always listening when no one else would, even if he was admittedly in the wrong. that, and you really did fuck like a bunny rabbit.

you had a libido that was constantly set to high, all hours of the day. you were a chronic pillow humper when rafe wasn’t available to sate you, the man often times walking in to find you teary eyed with a white lacy thong binding your spread knees, pulled down just enough to grind your messy, glossy pussy against the fluffed white pillow from his side of the bed. because really, you were a chronic rafe humper— but you were well behaved enough to know that sometimes he had to handle business and didn’t have the time to feed your greedy cunt.

you’d grown accustom to taking him in any position too, whether it was in doggy style — waving your plush ass in the air, pointing that fluffy pink bunny-tail butt plug straight at him as you mewl into expensive pillows, or you’re crouched on his lap on the couch, feet planted either side of him, a high pitched whimper punched out of you each time you slam your hips back down on his cock, mushroom tip thumping your cervix. you said you liked the pain, liked when it bruised, liked when you could still feel him the next day when you missed him. reminded you of how grateful you are to have a boyfriend who dicks you good.

you had a little obsession that was serving as a problem though— having to give you plenty of ‘sit down talks’ when he talks to you real slow like you’re stupid because you keep begging him to breed you. it seemed no amount of “sweetheart, i’on know how many times i have to say this to get it through that head, but you are too young for a baby. i—i gotta get my shit together first, alright? promised you as many babies as you want after i secure tannyhill did i not? i…i really need your patience… okay?” would stop you from bouncing on his cock with a feverish and determined look in your eye, or locking your legs around his waist when he’s about to nut— babbling tearfully as you beg “please daddy, please gimme a baby. please want — want your babies!”

you’re lucky he was so much stronger than you, often wrestling you down to straddle your face and aim his cock at your mouth before he blew his load, gritting out a spiteful “well you’re gonna have to fuckin’ swallow them ‘til the time comes. fuck.” through gritted teeth as you mewl miserably (but lap it up nonetheless)

you gave him trouble, but nothing he couldn’t handle. he wouldn’t trade his spoiled bunny girl for the world.

˚˖𓍢ִ🐰໋✧˚.🎀୨୧ ⋅˚₊

#rafe cameron prompt #bunny!reader

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zyafics · 1 month

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play fake | rafe cameron (18+)

series play fake (part one) — ( masterlist )

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole

zya's notes i hope u guys enjoy! i'm just writing this as i'm trying to figure out the brother's rival series and what direction i'm going <3

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚

Who knew Rafe Cameron is a blabbering drunk?

Working as a bartender on the docks, near Heyward's Seafood, you have your fair share of stories about the people who come in. Most of them are locals from The Cut, with the occasional tourists who wander the streets, settling for a clean place to eat.

But it's very rare to have a Kook.

It's been a visit for the past couple of weeks. You don't understand what caused him to come here. There's plenty of bars near Figure Eight—some of which you are sure caters specifically to the Camerons—but you don't question it. Lately, business has been slow, a couple of locals in and out, and with the majority of your income relying on tips, you take it.

Locals don't tip.

Rafe does, however. When he settled down and ordered the largest and most expensive liquor you had on hand, he slipped a fifty into your hands and asked for the bottle as a whole. You don't know if he doesn't have prior tipping etiquette—or because he tips extra for you to keep quiet about his presence—but you gladly take it. Sitting at the end of the counter, his hand cradles a half-empty glass he sips from.

Despite having the whole bottle set in front of him, he still makes you serve him.

Why?

Because he's an asshole.

"You know what he wants to do?" Rafe slurs from across the counter, his eyes flickering to find your presence behind the bar. "He wants to give the company to Sarah."

You hum in response, drying the washed glasses in your hands with a towel as you listen to his nondescript rambles. You knew most of the people he's referring to Sarah Cameron, Ward, and the occasional Pogue you don't know the name of. But, that's how Rafe sees the world: his family, the Kooks, and then everyone else.

"She's nineteen and going around OBX with her fucking Pogue boyfriend and he sees her as stable?" Rafe scoffs, shaking his head as he brings the edge of the glass to his lips and takes a long sip. "Fucking bitch."

Listening to drunk customers vent about their home lives is part of the job description. While it’s dark outside and Rafe is the only customer left, you are technically free to kick him out and make him go about his day elsewhere.

But, there's a rule in your family regarding business: don't go home until the last customer leaves. There's no such thing as kicking someone out at closing time; you were there to wait, serve, and hope they spend a couple more bucks on some more booze. It's a cheapshot of handling enterprise, but that's the way you need to do business and survive as a Pogue.

Rafe taps his empty cup in his hand, eyes pinned on you. "Refill," he mumbles, to which you resist the urge to roll your eyes, and walk over to do exactly as he asks. Lifting the bottle set in front of him to pour him another shot, he watches you as you watch.

"You think it's stupid, right?" He asks, his gaze lifting to study your face. "He thinks Sarah is more equipped to handle Cameron Development because of that Pogue. Because he ties her down. Is that some bullshit?"

His gaze is intense and you don't know whether to answer or not. While you don't know much of the story, of the background behind his persistent rambles, you pieced together enough that it's about Ward deciding to give Sarah the family company because of her stability as a person. Because she's reliable.

You shrug, "I don't know." Because you don't. You don't want to get involved in whatever problems Rafe is dealing with. You don't want to offer unsolicited opinions because who knows if it'll come back to bite you in the ass.

He scoffs, then releases a bitter laugh. "Of course you don't," he leans back against his seat, almost swaying against the backless stool, before shaking his head, disciplining himself. "You're a Pogue. I must be losing it if I'm talking to you."

You roll your eyes, turning away from the Kook and settling on the rest of your tasks. You're used to Kooks putting you down like that, seeing you as nothing more than the bottom of the chain because you don't have some fancy degree from UNC or because you aren't floating on a yacht somewhere.

Just as you're returning bottles back on the shelf, you hear Rafe mumbles to himself. "Does he want me to be tied down or something?"

You let out an abrupt laugh, before quickly stiffening the sound. However, it was too late. When you look back over, you see his blue eyes set on you, a hard expression on his face. "Sorry," you mumble, wishing you had better control over your tongue. "I thought I heard something funny."

You wished you could blame it on the TV, but unfortunately, you had turned that off a while ago.

"You laughing at me, sweetheart?"

"No," you clear your throat, but the look on Rafe's face makes it seem like he's in no mood to hear lies right now. You rectify the answer. "Yes."

"What's so funny?"

"The idea of you getting tied down," you answer slowly. You carefully study his expression to see if anything you say could trigger a bad reaction. "It just seems amusing to me."

Because it is. Rafe is known around Outer Banks as the reckless prince, the one who hosts parties, gets shit-faced drunk, and hooks up with every woman within his proximity. The idea of him losing all of that—the parties, the drinking, the women—was not something you could picture in your head.

"What about it?" He challenges, an edge to his tone. "You think I can't fucking do it?"

From your experience as a bartender, you know he's coming close to unraveling. What you say next could cause him to erupt or calm down, and while you would love to sell him some lies, to get him to back down and leave, something in you doesn't let it pass. All night, he's been nothing short of an asshole to you. To act like he's above you because you are nothing but a Pogue meant to serve him. Why would you pass up an opportunity to deliver some harsh reality?

"Look at yourself," you gesture to him, "you're here, drinking at my bar after an argument with your father. He's trying to tell you that you aren't dependable enough to rely on and the first thing you do is turn to your vices. What do you think?"

Even if you intended it to be harsh, you said it nicely.

He stares at you, hard. You don't like it. You heard the rumors of what happens when he gets pissed—where he throws chairs and smashed bottles. You don't want to be a recipient of that.

"Never mind," you shake your head, returning back to your task. "Just forget it. I'm misreading the situation."

"No," he says with a shake of his head. "You said it. Might as well own it with your chest. Dancing around it wouldn't make you anymore likable."

You clench your jaw. On top of being a blabbering drunk, Rafe is cruel.

Not answering him, you walk over to where he sits and take the glass from his hand, right as he's about to take another sip.

"What the fuck?"

"I think it's time for you to leave."

He scoffs, not moving from his position. "Just because I said I didn't like you?"

"No, because you're acting like an asshole and frankly, I don't want to put up with it anymore," you say, pouring the rest of the content down the sink. "You can take the bottle with you. But other than that, you need to leave."

Rafe stares at you for a few seconds, contemplating what to do, but he doesn't have any grounds here. He may be a Kook, but that means shit when he's in the south side of Outer Banks. When his opponent is a bartender. Instead of responding to you, he slides off the stool and grabs the booze by the handle.

Just as he's about to set out of the door, you shout behind him with a mock farewell, "'pleasure doing business with you!"

—

That day, you thought would be the last of your interactions with Rafe. After all, most people don't want to continue doing business with someone who calls them out on their bullshit and kicks them out of their shops.

But, a couple of days later, Rafe comes through the door of your family-owned pub.

You paid little attention to him. You were trying to log the tips into the cash register, not catering to some entitled prick who has no means being here. Plus, there's another bartender on hand who's more than willing to help Rafe with anything he needs.

You didn't care.

Your coworker can get his tips.

As you're filing in the last of the receipts, Miranda comes over to tap you on the shoulders.

"Rafe wants to talk to you."

You stare at her for a few seconds, as if she was speaking another language. You thought she did. Why in the world would he want to talk to you? You were unpleasant to him. You were nothing of the customer service attitude your parents drilled into you as a child. You thought it was clear grounds for him to look the other direction.

"I'm busy," you say to Miranda, who shifts uncomfortably in her stance, not leaving.

"He said he's willing to wait."

That means he was expecting you to say no.

You scoff. "Tell him I'm not going to be free until closing time."

"But..." Miranda starts again, and you are starting to lose your patience with her. "We don't have a closing time."

You smile at that. "Exactly."

Despite the harsh undertone, Miranda still relays the message back to Rafe. You watch as she does, his eyes briefly pans over to you as you offer him a forced smile with a wave of your fingers and his jaw visibly tense. You thought that would be the end of the conversation but, to be proven wrong again, he slides into the bar stool he previously occupied the other night and orders a drink.

Then another.

You did your best to avoid the area he occupied, but it was proven to be difficult as he spent his time right in front of you. You got busy, running around and assisting locals and tourists who came in to get a taste of the infamous and historical Sailor of Outer Banks. While you're running around, placing orders, making drinks, and trying to navigate the cramped space behind the bar—Rafe remains.

He remained until he was the very last customer.

You sigh as you glance at the clock. Miranda has since left and you're left carrying the shop ever since. All you want to do is go home and relax, but that will be proven impossible until Rafe leaves the establishment.

With a strong reluctance, you step forward to where Rafe sat, his eyes on the TV screen hung on the wall, while his hands occupied another glass.

"Fine," you sigh, causing Rafe to tear away from the screen. The corner of his lips lift into a self-satisfying smirk. "I'm here."

"You finally ready to talk to me?"

"You ready to stop being such a prick?" You quip back, just to see his expression broadens at your snark. You can't lie and say the movement didn't make him more attractive. "What do you want?"

For a moment, you thought he might be here to apologize for asking like an ass the other night.

But, you were too hopeful.

"I came up with a solution," he begins, his words a subtle slur that contrasts the intoxication of the other night.

"For what?" You entertain the conversation, crossing your arms over your chest.

"My dad." He answers. "He wants me to be stable."

"I remember."

"And from when he was talking about Sarah, one of the reasons he thinks he can rely on her is because she's with that Pogue." He explains, "that it somehow makes her dependable. I don't fucking know, the logic is flawed."

"And old-fashioned, but continue."

His blue eyes dart to your face, before he utters the next words. "That means I need a girlfriend."

You nod, glad to see that he came to his conclusion. You thought this was another one of his ramblings, a need to vent to someone he doesn't think matters in the long-run, just to get it off his chest. Now that it is, you're about to step back and turn around to start your night tasks before he holds out a hand.

"Wait," he commands, causing you to stop on your tracks. You raise a brow at him. "I want you to be my girlfriend."

You laugh. It truly is a bad habit of yours but the idea came out as total lunacy and shock. You thought he would join. But, when you look back to his face and have the striking realization that he is serious, you start to sober up. "You're serious."

"Yeah," he says, clenching his jaw, like the moment of wonderful ideas was truly something he was proud of and you struck it down like lightning.

"I'm sorry but," you shake your head, not having the ability to wrap your head around the suggestion. "You barely know me. Isn't there a line of other people who would love to become the next Mrs. Cameron?"

You know that's true. You also know if he had told Miranda this, she would've jumped to the idea before he concluded his brilliant plan. So, you can't, for the life of you, figure out why he's choosing you out of everyone else.

"Yes, but I don't want them." He answers with a shake of his head, leaning closer to the counter. You don't know why but something about that makes your chest warm. "I don't want a real girlfriend. I just need you to pretend to be."

Just like that, the feeling in your stomach dies.

"Pretend?" You repeat.

"Yes," he nods. "It's just like you said. I still have my vices. I don't want to give them up. I just want my dad to think I did."

"I still don't understand how this has anything to do with me," you furrow your brows together.

He sighs, out of frustration or impatience, you don't know. But, he goes to explain, "my dad once told me that John B was a reliable person. That he was a Pogue who was hard-working and determined. That's why he likes him for Sarah—because he hopes it would rub off on her too."

You nod slowly, connecting the dots as he continues. "You're a Pogue," he says with a huff, the title left his tongue with an ounce of disgust you were ready to throw him out of the bar again. "He likes to go on his good samaritan bullshit and employs people from The Cut for certain events. You were one of them."

It takes a second to remember what he was talking about. He's right. A couple of years ago, when you were eighteen, you got a catering job from the Camerons for some big business event. It was the most you made in your lifetime, from all the tips and drunk Kooks who wanted to give back to the poor.

But, he never employed you again.

"Do you see where I'm going now?"

You do, but you hate the attitude he's giving you. Like you were a Pogue who couldn't string together simple facts. Like you should've known what he's talking about.

"I do, but why the fuck you acting like I would've known the whole thing with John B?" You snap, and this surprises him for a moment. Taking a breath to cool the anger in your chest, you calm. "This doesn't explain why it has to be me."

His next statement comes off more nice. "My dad wants someone like that. I doubt he would approve of anyone else, and plus, I don't have to worry about you wanting something more. You clearly despise me."

That isn't true, but you do understand where he's coming from.

"So, let me get this straight." You start. "I'm basically an arm candy for you to parade around in front of your father while the rest of the time, you are free to drink and fuck whoever you want."

"I'm glad that Pogue brain of yours is catching up."

You glare at him, but say nothing else. Picking up the dirty rag off the counter, where you were planning on using to clean, you turn back to Rafe, "as much as I would love to play house with you, I don't have time. Unlike you, I have bills to pay and a job to do."

You turn your back to him but he stops you.

"I'll pay you."

You scoff. "It's not that," you say, because truly, it isn't. A few short-term payments for a couple of missed shifts isn't going to help you in the long-run. You're trying to revive Sailor, to make it a place where it can stand on its own. What is a couple of bucks going to do for that? "I'm sorry, but I don't have the time for it. You're going to have to find someone else."

"I don't want someone else."

He looks at you desperate, as if you would give in, and for a moment, you might. Perhaps it's because you're so used to helping others, or because you were raised to cater to people—to people like him—that your stomach cower at the thought of saying no. But, you have to stand firm on this. You don't have time to go out and party, much less spend your free-time parading around in his arms as some sort of trophy.

You were serious.

"I'm sorry, I truly am."

Your voice is filled with sympathy, and it softens him for a moment. But, that quickly passes as Rafe Cameron has to recoil with the idea that he didn't get what he wanted. Probably for the first time in his life.

With an annoyed huff, he slams the cash for the drinks he's been nursing and leaves.

You thought it would be the end of it.

Not knowing, by the end of this week, you will be known as Rafe's girlfriend.

— read part two —

i know you liked the post to be added to the "brother's rival" taglist, but i also didn't know if u wanted to be added to all my fics, so if u want to get off of this one, pls tell me! taglist: @k00k-princess / @ditzyzombiesblog / @itshellie / @realcolewrld / @grace-sully / @loveyouok / @tayrcse / @mysteris-things / @zzhhvgbhuuh / @ella131989 / @whore4fictionalman / @starrkissezz / @sanriobuny / @user123453226780536 / @onlinemold / @alyssax25 / @chopshopcheesecake / @bobo-bush

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lale-txt · 3 months

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❥ subtle ways they say "I love you" without saying it ↳ w/ Nanami, Ino, Toji & Naoya

a/n: gn!reader for Nanami, Toji & Ino, f!reader for Naoya! somehow i got carried away writing these and halfway through wondered if i should have just made single fics for each of them... oh well ♡-(๑˙ー˙๑)-♡

word count: 1.5k

❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

Nanami needs his sweet time until he’ll put his feelings into proper words, part of him too afraid to pursue love during his time as jujutsu sorcerer, but his actions have always been louder than words anyway

his love is stored in the smallest gestures, like fixing the collar of your shirt or helping you put on a necklace, not letting you go without kissing the back of your neck gently, his lips lingering on your skin for a heartbeat longer than expected

when you’re in a bookstore together, his eyes always follow you around even when you’re looking at different shelves; he observes which books you pick up and put back again because you have too many unread ones at home (both of you are terrible book hoarders), just so he can go back another day and get you the one book you really wanted

sometimes he’ll also make the time to read it before he gifts it to you, small scribbled thoughts on the side so you can discuss them together later–a tiny book club of two lovers

in the comfort of your home, Nanami is also incredibly touchy, never not seeking skin contact; anything will do, even if it’s just linked pinkies across the table while you’re having your morning coffee and sharing the newspaper

his love will seep into you with every gaze, every smile, every kiss you share

with you, Nanami can let his guard down; he can allow himself to just be loved, with his head in your lap as you run your fingers through his hair, charming out sweet sounds from his throat that sound a lot like “I love you” if you listen closely

if he has to leave for a solo mission, Nanami will leave a handwritten note on the table for you to find in the morning, nothing too cheesy but enough to remind you that you’re always on his mind

and if you show him your collection of notes one day, stored in a box in your closet, a smile will play upon his lips, asking you if you really kept all of them (even if some of them just say things like “Can you buy eggs while I’m out? I want to make us waffles for breakfast tomorrow” or “I watered your dying plant on the top shelf. xx”)

there’s wonder in his eyes when he looks at you, as if he sometimes finds it hard to believe that your love is mutual, that he’s allowed to experience this during his lifetime, and the quiet hope that maybe, maybe this can last forever

❦ 𝐈𝐍𝐎

Ino’s love for you is written all over his face: the way it lights up when he sees you, the confident yet boyish smirk when you compliment him, the gleam in his eyes when you call out for him

it’s in his touch, too

his fingers playing with yours when you’re sitting somewhere together, always fidgeting with them as if he couldn’t believe that he really gets to hold your hand

or the arm that sneaks around your waist when you’re on the train together and it’s crowded, his body shielding you from the other passengers and giving you some space to breathe (plus–how convenient–he can steal a kiss from your lips without anyone looking, too)

Ino also walks you home at any given occasion, whether it’s after a night out with your senpais or after a mission you’ve been on together; he doesn’t mind that he lives in a different neighborhood or if he has to get up early the next day, he rather wants to know you’re home safely

when you’re apart, Ino and you keep texting with each other throughout the day, his lips curling into a smile whenever your name lights up on his screen

Ino will text you everything and anything that reminds him of you and it’s plenty and in the most mundane things

[img.attached] “saw this chonky cat on my mission. u would have loved to give them belly rubs. Nanami said i’m not allowed to take them home with me”

[new text] “i think we should adopt a cat one day. maybe two so it doesn’t get lonely. knowing us we’ll also adopt a third”

[voice message] “babe can you hear this? i’ve never heard a cat purr like this. (sounds of rustling and Ino sweet talking to the cat, it’s purring very loudly)”

[new text] “i hope the cat distribution system chooses us next”

being loved by Ino means being part of his future and his dreams; he’s thinking of you always and can’t imagine a life without you in it, so listen closely when he tells you all about it

❦ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

Toji isn’t shy to admit his love verbally, whispered into your ear at night, his voice bourbon raspy, making sure you never forget how your own name sounds when rolled off his lips

being in love makes him domestic; Toji grew up not knowing what a warm home is, and so he’ll strive to make his place one for you both to hide from the world outside

it’s like your presence is a reminder that even someone like him is allowed to love, and be loved in return

Toji brings you your favorite beverage to bed in the morning, urging you not to get up just yet (he also wants to slip back under the covers with you)

if you really have to get up on on cold mornings though, Toji will give you his worn and warmed up sweater for you to wear so you won’t be freezing

he also slips pocket warmers into your coat before you leave the house and gives you the deepest kiss, almost as if his biggest concern is that you stay warm

cooking isn’t Toji’s strong suit but he’ll get you takeout, even if it means driving across the whole town to get you that one dish from that specific restaurant that you’re craving (and some dessert on top); your big smile once he returns home is his solely reward

after seeing you struggle with opening a jar of jam once, Toji will go around the kitchen and loosen the lids of all the jars for you. every single one of them. there won’t be even one jar left that gives you any further troubles

it’s endearing in a way, how Toji always takes the fastest route to solve your struggles (there’s barely anything he can’t solve with his hands)

with love, it all comes down to warmth for Toji: the heat of your body when he has his arms wrapped around you. letting you warm up your cold hands on his stomach (he tries his best not to flinch). sharing a hot bath while you’re getting snowed in.

to Toji, you are his sun, the one who brought back colors into his life and who showed him what it means to live despite everything; he may be blinded by your light but he doesn’t need to see to find your lips in every universe

❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐎𝐘𝐀

Naoya doesn’t do love, he prefers to be worshiped and adored over admitting his feeling for you

yet still, he has his ways of showing that you actually mean something more to him than just being his trophy wife

the kitchen staff and servants have been drilled to cook all of your meals exactly to your liking, and he’ll look overly pleased with himself over dinner when he notices that you enjoy the food, proud of himself as if he was the one who prepared it for you (smug bastard that he is)

there’s always an air of possessiveness around him when you’re with him; as if he wants the whole world to know that you’re his wife, even insisting you walk by his side instead of behind him, always one hand around your waist or in the back of your neck, making sure to keep you close

even though it displeases him that you want to spent time apart from him, he made sure that you get a room of your own in the Zen’in estate after your arranged marriage (he still lingers around often until you kick him out)

he insists on sharing a bed at night though–it’s when he gets surprisingly clingy, insisting to hold you close, his hands playing with anything he can get a hold of: your hair, the hem of the pajamas he picked out for you in the color he thinks suits you best, the ring on your finger that proofs you’re his

Naoya can be surprisingly gentle in those moments when it’s just the two of you–no family and no servants around

his sharp yellow eyes study your features thoroughly, ignoring the pull at his heart strings when he picks up an eyelash from your cheeks and holds it out for you when you make a wish

he’s dying to know what you wished for, but he doesn’t ask; part of him scared it doesn’t involve him, part of him too prideful to believe you could wish for something that doesn’t include him, because at the end of the day you still belong to him–or is it the other way around?

#jjk x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #ino x reader #naoya x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk fluff #nanami kento #ino takuma #toji fushiguro #naoya zenin #nanami kento x reader #ino takuma x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #naoya zenin x reader #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios

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