#I would kiss your face hands and feet if you did

[rafecameronsslut4ever]

CASUAL — lando norris (smut, angst, nsfw)

pairing; fem!reader x lando norris summary: whatever you and lando have, it's anything but 'casual'. warnings: smut 18+, a LOT of angst, mdni, fingering, oral (f receiving), (situationship?) a/n: i lowkey want chappell roan's casual to be inserted into my brain and OMG this one is too sad

"nah, nah. the two of us... it's complicated, y'know? just a casual thing, honestly."

the words echoed in your mind on the flight from london, replaying as the seatbelt sign dinged off.

casual.

the word had always carried a negative connotation, but hearing him say it made you feel so much worse. it made you feel insignificant, as if the months that had passed meant nothing to him, while it had meant so much more to you.

you were anything but casual.

all those nights, the mornings after, the kisses, the rendezvouses. they meant something, didn't they? you thought they did, at least.

the way he'd look at you when the lights dimmed and his voice would turn soft. the way he'd kiss you as if it was what he was made to do.

he knew every inch of you. every freckle, every curve. he knew you better than he knew the tracks he raced on.

but, then again, lando norris was never known for being reliable.

he was young and wild and carefree, a bachelor to be envied by all. a party boy, a flirt, a ladies' man. he was charming and he knew it.

he was good at making people believe that they were special.

everyone loved him. the oh-so charming lando norris. the young driver who had a bright future ahead of him. he was bound to get whatever he wanted, right?

the first night he touched you, the two of you had come to an agreement—no attachment. he made it clear that he didn't have time for anything serious, but that he would love to have fun with you.

you, of course, had agreed to that.

in the beginning it was nothing. 'accidentally' crashing into each other at parties, accompanying the other into hotel rooms, and then disappearing as soon as the sun rose.

but do these 'no attachments' things ever work? it wasn't even a complete month before the two of you became more and more involved and realised you weren't just having fun.

as you exited the airplane, your heart clenched at the thought. the two of you had never actually said anything, but it was there, hanging in the air, almost suffocating you.

the first time you realised it wasn't just fun, you were in the passenger seat of his mclaren. he was on his knees, big blue eyes staring into yours as he flicked his tongue in you. you were so close, you had been for a while. he could tell. his eyes were locked onto yours, a glint of smugness in them. and then, with the tip of his finger, he brought you over the edge.

after you both came, he had crawled into the driver's seat and smiled at you. his lips glistened, his chin damp, and his hair sticking up in places.

"you look beautiful." he said, a hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"i think i like you." his voice was barely a whisper, and if you hadn't been staring right into his eyes you might've missed what he said.

"yeah, me too." your voice was breathless.

and that was the only time either of you'd ever said anything about it.

was it casual?

then, that one time when you had flown to his family home in the uk and met his parents. they'd welcomed you with open arms and treated you like one of their own, and lando's face had glowed with joy the whole time.

"i still can't believe that lando has such a pretty girlfriend." his mom had said to you, giggling as the two of you shared a bottle of wine.

"mom!" lando had whined from the other room. "can't you just shut up for once?"

"oh, hush! i'm just saying it as it is." she shrugged.

you had blushed furiously at her words, looking down at your feet as you took another sip of the expensive italian wine.

you had thought he would deny the 'girlfriend' title, or at least laugh it off, but he didn't. instead, he grinned like an idiot and you wondered if the wine had gone to his head.

"yeah, guess i got lucky." he'd muttered, and his mom had smiled, nodding knowingly.

when the day ended, you had fallen asleep curled up next to him, his body warmth enveloping you like a blanket.

now, your eyes stung as you walked through the airport, a million thoughts running through your mind.

you'd spent the rest of the week there and it was the best time you'd had in a while. he'd taken you on a day-trip to oxford, but the two of you ended up staying the night at some cottage. he'd held you closer, kissed you harder. you slept together as many times as you could.

fuck, you weren't just casual.

and the time the you woke up in each other's arms, his face buried in your hair, hands wrapped around your waist. he had asked you what your plans for the future were.

"get an apartment in monaco right next to yours so that i can stalk you everyday. binoculars and everything." you had joked.

"really? not gonna say you're going to marry me and have a billion kids and we're gonna grow old together?"

you'd looked up at him, eyebrows raised. and then the two of you had burst out laughing.

"what the fuck, lando. i'm not having a billion kids with you."

he just smirked in response.

or the time when the two of you vacationed in italy with his friends, and at the pier he had introduced you as his 'hotshot pr girl'.

"he's paying me a million dollars to pretend to be his girlfriend because he doesn't like being called a virgin."

"hey!" he'd laughed, nudging you.

"shut up, loser."

and then you'd pushed him into the water.

"i'm never talking to you again." he'd pouted.

"oh yeah, find someone else to have your billion kids with. my uterus will be happy."

or the countless times he would call you in the middle of the night and tell you about his new merch drop, and you'd whine about how it was 2 in the morning and you couldn't give a flying fuck.

and when you had just gotten off the phone with his sister, "flo is such a sweetheart, i love her."

"my sister talks to you more than she talks to me. you know she likes you better, right?" he'd mumbled, looking offended.

"what can i say, i'm such a charmer." you'd said in the most british accent you could muster, and he'd rolled his eyes and shoved your face away.

december came, and cisca invited you to celebrate christmas with them.

"if he doesn't ask you to be his girlfriend, promise me you'll tell him it's over." your best friend has said, looking at you sternly.

you had just sighed in response, shaking your head.

"i'm serious. you don't deserve someone like that. not if he doesn't think you're worth the commitment."

"you're right. i know. i'm just... i'm just scared. i like him so much. i don't know what to do."

the morning of christmas, you'd landed in london and gone straight to his place. he was all dressed up, and you'd almost cried at how gorgeous he looked.

"merry christmas, darling." he'd murmured, and you'd melted at his words. he welcomed you with a kiss, the way he always did.

the day was spent exchanging gifts with his family, watching christmas movies and cuddling under blankets.

his family adored you.

"i'm glad you're here." he said.

"where else would i be?"

"anywhere else."

you smiled at him, and he returned it with a cheshire cat one.

that night, the two of you had been invited to dinner with his parents, and halfway through the meal you'd excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

as you stood there washing your hands, you'd heard the door swing open, and the familiar figure appeared next to you, locking the door behind him.

"lando."

"yeah?"

"what are you doing?"

"i need to wash my hands." he'd shrugged.

you raised a brow at him, looking at him pointedly.

he shrugged again, taking a step towards you.

"you look too good in this dress, can't help it."

you rolled your eyes as he stepped closer to you, fingers about to grasp your waist before you told him to back off.

"what?"

"wash your hands first. didn't you come here to wash your hands? there's no way in hell i'm letting greasy salmon fingers touch me."

and then the two of you had laughed before his lips found yours lips. it felt so natural, the way your body reacted to his touch or the way your lips melted into his.

"lando, we shouldn't." you protested, neck arching as he pressed kisses everwhere.

"shut up." he grabbed your waist before pushing you against the counter, his lips crashing back into yours.

"what happened to your hands? i told you to wash them."

"fuck the hands."

"technically-"

"shut the fuck up." he groaned, dipping a finger between your thighs. "you're dripping. fucking hell."

pulling his fingers out, his knee pushed your thighs apart, spreading your legs apart.

you gasped, shifting your hands as you balanced yourself against the counter. his eyes locked in yours as his finger dragged across your core.

"fuck, baby, you're so pretty." he whispered, eyes digging into yours.

"lando, please."

"please what?" he asked as he slipped two fingers inside you.

your eyes squeezed shut, head leaning against the mirror behind you. "oh, fuck."

"i asked a question."

you were quick to answer, fisting his shirt as his fingers moved inside you. "please fuck me, oh my god."

he smirked before dropping to his knees, spreading your thighs and pressing his tongue onto your clit. you yelped at the sudden feeling of his mouth sucking at your clit; eyes rolling back.

his hands grabbed your legs, swinging them over his shoulder. hand sprawled over your stomach, pushing you back against the counter.

when his tongue curled into you, brushing that spot he never failed to miss, you couldn't help but let a loud moan escape you.

lando hushed you; tapping your thigh. “gotta be quiet baby,” lando said through heavy breaths before pushing his face back into you.

biting into your lip, your fingers ran through his curls, admiring the sight of his head moving between your thighs.

your moans filled the small bathroom, the sound like music to his ears.

"lando," your voice was shaky, breath hitching as he picked up the pace, his hands pushing your hips down.

he hummed in response, the vibration sending waves throughout your body.

"oh, god, lando. right there, right there. oh fuck."

and then your body was trembling, and you were gripping his hair, his tongue still moving.

you were seeing stars, vision going white as your legs quivered around his face.

"oh, god." you sighed, chest rising and falling as he pulled his fingers out, smirking up at you.

"c'mon baby, give me one more."

it wasn't casual.

now, walking through the terminal, dragging your suitcase behind you, the tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

maybe he said 'casual' just to tell his friends he was still a player. or maybe, he was referring to the fact that the two of you were just friends who hooked up sometimes.

but whatever he meant, it wasn't the truth.

both of you knew it.

casual wasn't the way he held you close during thunderstorms, wasn't the way he'd make sure coffee was the perfect temperature, wasn't the way he'd look at you as if the world stopped turning.

the way he'd stare into your eyes as the lights turned off, the way he'd press a kiss onto your temple, the way he'd say your name.

it wasn't casual.

[charliemwrites]

Part 12 SpecGru reader!!

No content warnings for this chapter.

You mull over your captain’s words in the hours before dinner. Sitting behind Nova in her temporary room, Doctor Who’s opening theme warbling from your laptop’s speakers. You gently work oil into her scalp, following the precise alleys formed by her braids.

It’s a soothing ritual, not just for her, but for you. An act of care for a woman who’s been so kind and patient with you. Who always stood her ground on your worst days, and never allowed herself to be goaded into a useless argument. She’s warm beneath your fingers, soft against your chest, the scent of coconut and cinnamon sweet in your nose.

Slowly, you begin to card through memories you put great care into neglecting.

The day you left the hospital, feeling more pathetic than you ever had in your life. A packet of care instructions folded over in one hand. You remember the way Gaz hadn’t quite looked you in the eye, mouth tight and regretful at the corners. Almost guilty. Even when he handed over a bag of fresh clothes, saying he was glad to see you on your feet.

Did you know then? Was there some twinge of foreshadowing in your gut? Did you hear a foreboding whisper in your mind, of how the following twenty-four hours would devolve?

Maybe you did or maybe hindsight is a liar.

What really stands out, even after all this time, is how betrayed you felt (still feel) when you reflect on that interaction with Gaz. That the best he offered was a weak warning that Ghost and Price were pissed off at you. The hurt that he didn’t even ask how you felt before disappearing for the rest of that awful day. You never saw him after your initial discharge, he might as well have borrowed his lieutenant’s namesake.

And then there was Johnny.

Soap, who made himself perfectly visible, if only to express how pissed off he was. He never bothered to ask how you were doing either – didn’t even seem relieved to see you conscious and in one piece. He was tight-jawed and tense; the few times he deigned to speak to you was clipped and terse.

When you finally left, you remember how your chest ached, knowing (intending) you’d never see his thousand-watt smile again. A fair few of your tears on that flight had been in self-deprecation for expecting anything but his total, unwavering loyalty to Simon. It stung that for all his crowing about being a team, looking out for each other, no one left behind – he couldn’t spare you a crumb of forgiveness for a mistake in the field.

Price and Ghost had almost made sense, really. But Gaz and Soap had been a peculiar sort of pain. Your fellow sergeants, who had made you feel welcome and comfortable in the beginning – who had been the bridge and buffer between you and your intimidating superiors. And maybe it wasn’t their fault that you never quite felt like you had a seat at their table, but they’d tried.

Still… at least you can look at them. You can’t imagine opening your mouth to face Price or Ghost and anything but acid pouring out.

“What’s on your mind, babes?”

You blink, palms automatically cradling Nova’s head as she tilts it back to peer at you. On autopilot, you dip down to kiss her forehead, then the gentle curve of her lips.

“Hmm?”

“Don’t get me wrong, the massage is nice,” she teases, “but you’ve gone over my whole head at least twice now.”

“Oh,” you intone, swiping your thumb behind her ear. “Just thinkin’ is all.”

“I can tell,” she giggles, “there’s practically smoke comin’ outta your ears.”

You grimace a bit, arms lowering down to circle her shoulders in a hug. She curls her clever, slender fingers around your forearm, tracing soft patterns with her blunt nails.

“Sorry, love,” you mumble, flicking your eyes to the screen. Realize you’ve only got a vague idea of what’s going on. “I’m being a bad date.”

“You’re not,” she insists, squeezing your wrist. “This s’all been a lot, yeah? I just don’ want you being on your own in there.”

She taps two fingers against your temple. You used to spend all your time alone in your own head. Not because it was safe – it wasn’t – but it was familiar. It took her and the rest of the team concerted effort to pry anything of value from you.

Now, you muster up an appreciative smile as you nuzzle into her hand.

“I’ve just been trying to decide…”

She pauses the show and wriggles to get a better look at your face, hums for you to continue.

“If I should try talking to the 141,” you continue. “Cap said I should consider it. See if we can put all that old shit to rest.”

“Do you want to put it to rest?”

“I should.”

“But do you want to?”

The question brings you up a bit short. Being mad is easy. You’ve been mad at them for so long, one step short of loathing, that you’ve settled into the feeling. Dug your heels in. It’s an easy way to put a stopper on all the complicated hurt lying beneath.

“I want to talk to them the same way I want to go to the dentist,” you muse.

She picks up what you aren’t saying.

“You don’t want to, but you know it’s healthier if you do.”

You grunt, still too proud to admit it outright.

“The wound closed over, but it never healed properly,” she says. “Maybe you’ve got to reset it, yeah?”

You sigh. “Yeah. Just not sure where to start.”

She shrugs. “Wherever you want to. Do it on your own terms. Only way you’ll be able to stomach them.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“’Course I am,” she chirps. “I’m used to navigating bad weather.”

You nip at her fingers, prompting a bright peel of laughter as she tries to squirm away. As you wrestle her back into your lap, your nerves soften and settle.

Even if you excise this wound, you know you won’t be left bleeding alone. Not ever again.

You haven’t come to any concrete decision after dinner. Not that anyone asks. Nova isn’t one to push and your captain has already said his piece. You haven’t told Nikto or Keegan about your dilemma yet, and you’re not sure if you will.

Nikto’s take on the situation isn’t obvious – though if you had to guess, it would be similar to Nova’s. But Keegan? You already know what his answer would be.

Of anyone in SpecGru, he had to work the hardest to earn even an iota of warmth from you. He reminded you too much of Ghost – and how could he not? The perpetual mask, the sharp one-liners. Gruff and closed off, frighteningly capable, and a crack shot with a sniper rifle to boot.

It used to take everything in you to pull your punches during spars. The rare instances that you would agree to eat with your new team were never if Keegan was present. And more than once, you walked into the rec room, saw his looming figure, and turned right back around.

The only time you could stand to look at him was during missions, but your captain was always sure to receive a killer glare if he paired the two of you together.

Keegan was your partner on the mission that changed things.

It had been a week straight of shit sleep and bad memories, sick on loneliness and anger. When boots hit the ground, you stormed right in, eager to prove to yourself (but really, to them) that you were valuable. Didn’t wait for Keegan, but that had never stopped him from keeping pace with you before.

You didn’t clear your corners, got sloppy and hasty.

Took two stab wounds before Keegan shot the hostile in the temple. When he tried to call the others, you demanded that he finish the mission first. Would have rather bled out than be the reason another mission failed.

The pain and blood loss dragged you under as soon as you choked out the demand.

Then, Keegan’s face was the first thing you saw in the hospital room. Not the mask, him.

Even with dirt and black paint smudging his face, you could see the dark, worried circles beneath his eyes. Could read regret in his angular jaw, relief in the slant of his scarred mouth. For the first time, you looked in his eyes and saw more than an echo of your former lieutenant.

You saw your teammate. The partner you’d left to fend for himself because you’d been handicapped by your own pride. You saw Keegan.

“Did you finish the mission?” you rasped.

He frowned, but your captain stepped forward. “He did – once we were there to stop the bleeding.”

You never saw Ghost in the weave of his mask again.

And soon after, Keegan was the first person you opened up to about the 141.

It was that very same week. You’d been sick on shame and embarrassment, using your injuries to nurse your wounded ego. Skipping meals in exchange for raiding your snack drawers and moping in your cot.

Keegan hadn’t made himself scarce after your discharge. None of your team had, really – but he’d made a point of checking on you. And lacking your usual sharpness, he hadn’t been deterred by your comparatively mild standoffishness either.

Which was how you found yourself stubbornly tucked into the corner of your cot one night, while Keegan sewed the holes in your shirt. He kept shooting you amused looks – probably because you hadn’t taken your eyes off him once. Half wondering why he was there, half waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“You gonna say something, or you just glare all night?” he drawled eventually.

You narrowed your eyes. “Do you plan to stay all night?”

He shrugged, but his eyes flicked to yours, the corner of his mouth ticking up. (No mask. He hadn’t worn one around you since the hospital. Not unless people outside your team were around.)

“If you’ll have me. Been meaning to get you caught up on the show we’ve been watching.”

You huffed, frustrated. “Why?”

He arched his brows at you, needle paused. “Because I like you, despite your best efforts.”

You stared, a little appalled, a little touched. Keegan just chuckled and went right back to mending your shirt. You drew your knees up tighter and hid your quivering mouth with your arms.

“Cap says your last team was shit to you,” he said into your sullen silence.

You scowled. He put a hand up as if in surrender.

“He hasn’t said more’n that, don’t worry,” he continued, “I’m just sayin’… I don’t take any of it personal. You’re a good teammate, I trust you with more than my six.”

Why, you wanted to demand, flabbergasted and all the guiltier because you knew you didn’t deserve it. Why did he trust you? Why was he so patient? Why was he there at all?

You sniffled, but he just kept talking.

“I want to return the favor, ya know? I’m not askin’ you to trust me after the mission, but you don’t gotta be on your own either.”

You were crying quietly by that point, face so hot that your tears felt cold, stomach aching from more than stab wounds. He finally looked up, saw how you were falling apart. But he didn’t shy away, didn’t close himself off. It wasn’t pity or sympathy that softened his eyes.

“The shit you and I carry, we’re not meant to do it alone, sweets.”

And what else could you do, but spill your sorry guts?

You remember the expression on his face when you got to the part about Ghost. Remember how tightly he held you on your cot, all the distance (emotional and physical) closed between you two. Remember waking up the next morning, Netflix still open on your laptop and flopped gracelessly over Keegan’s stomach like a childhood sleepover.

You couldn’t have iced him out again even if you wanted to, after that.

No, there’s no question what Keegan would tell you, if you asked about talking to the 141. He would say there’s no good reason to waste oxygen on a single one of them.

So, you don’t ask.

You climb into his lap in your temporary room that evening, peeling his mask up and off with slow hands. His eyes are already half-lidded, the corner of his mouth curved fondly. His hands spread across your thighs, warm and rough. The scar twisting across his left palm is sweetly familiar when he draws it along your skin.

“I’m going to try talking to the 141,” you admit.

His jaw twitches, eyes flickering. “Now why the hell would you do that?”

You sigh, curl your fingers into the brassy crop of hair he’s been growing out. He’s got a quick temper, and a habit of misplacing it when it’s been triggered by something out of his control. You don’t take it personally, you never have – it’s gratifying to see how much he cares.

“There’s no good reason to waste oxygen on a single one of ‘em,” he growls.

“There might be.”

He sits back, skeptical but waiting.

You continue, “I’ve got a lot of shit to say to them, and they seem eager to hear it.”

“Why give ‘em the satisfaction?” he asks.

“Maybe it’ll help with the nightmares.” That gives him pause. You draw your thumb soothingly across his temple – a bullet graze from saving your life. “We’ve got too much shit to carry, you and me. Unloading some of it is as good a reason as any.”

His hand drifts up your side, grazes the tattoo coiling down your arm. (The second you ever got – a big piece that took hours, Keegan never leaving your side. Nikto, Nova, and your captain periodically dropping in to provide snacks and water.)

He cups your jaw, guides your face down until your foreheads touch. You stay there, breathing him in. He smells like yours.

“What if they make it worse, huh?” His thumb caresses over your cheekbone the way it has a dozen times before, wiping away tears. “I’ll have to kill ‘em.”

You huff softly, amused. “Then kill ‘em. But I’m stronger than I was, Kee. There’s nothing they can weigh me down with that I can’t carry.”

“I know,” he whispers, tilting his chin to drop a sweet, aching kiss on your lips.

“Besides, I wouldn’t be carrying it alone anymore.”

His expression lightens, pride shining from his eyes. “Damn right.”

It’s nearly midnight when you wake from a light doze. Keegan is snoring softly, an arm and leg each hanging over the side of the bed. Your mouth is dry, but you realize it’s your stomach that woke you – pangs of hunger from picking at your dinner earlier. You need to eat.

Quiet and careful, you crawl out from beneath the sheets. Keegan is a heavy sleeper compared to the nearly supernatural senses of Nikto; he hardly stirs as you pad for the door. The hall lights are dim, but you only open it a crack to slip out.

The hall is quiet, no lights on beneath any of the other doors. You hope that means the rest of your team is sleeping peacefully. If you remember right, Nikto and Nova crawled in with your captain this evening. They’re all in good company if nightmares creep in; you pray Keegan doesn’t have any while you’re up.

Thankfully, the rec room is only two halls away. Light is spilling out as you turn the corner – there’s a sensor that shuts them off if no movement is detected for a while. Someone is either in there now or was recently. You half hope it’s the latter, but that doesn’t deter you from entering.

Your surprised to find Soap leaning against the kitchenette counter, a steaming mug in hand. His expression is flat, grim. Tired. You pause just inside the doorway.

“Might as well come in,” he says, voice low and rough. “I’ll clear out in a mo’.”

Even from where you’re standing, you can see that his cup is mostly full.

You exhale and shake your head. “Don’t have to.”

“How gracious,” he rasps, brows twitching like he wants to scowl. Like he can’t quite commit to being as bitter as he should be.

You’re too tired for your usual acid, as well. Just sigh and reach for the fridge door.

“Is that how you want this conversation to go?” you ask.

“Is this a conversation?” he replies.

You pluck out a yogurt cup. “It can be.”

He’s glaring into his coffee now, index finger tapping at the ceramic. Thinking. Or maybe just leashing all the things he wants to say but knows will drive you right back out.

“Why now?” he says finally.

You shrug. “Because I’m ready now.”

A tendon in his jaw twitches. “That’s not fair.”

A hot flicker of anger ignites in your chest. You tamp it down with a spoonful of yogurt, measuring out your words and tone.

“How do you reckon?” you inquire.

“You left,” he says. It’s been a while, but you can detect the hurt underlying the accusation. You suspect it’s something he’s wanted to say for a long time. “You left us behind.”

You click your teeth off your spoon, take a deep breath. It’s factually true. You are the one that left but—

“I wasn’t going to wait for you all to kick me out officially.”

He finally raises his eyes, a dark storm of emotion swirling within them.

“We wouldnae have.”

You tilt your head, cynicism in the flat line of your mouth. “Didn’t seem that way to me.”

“I ken you and Simon were—”

“Don’t.”

His mouth snaps shut, brows furrowed. You point at him with your spoon warningly but bite back the sharp remark on your tongue. Arguing isn’t the point here.

Settle instead to say, “Don’t speak for the others.”

There’s a beat of silence as he digests that, then finally nods. “Alright. Just you ‘n me then.”

You turn back to your yogurt, swipe up another spoonful as you reorganize your thoughts.

“I didn’t leave because of Ghost,” you begin. “Not entirely. I left because I was never part of the team. And what happened after that mission just… made it all very clear.”

Soap frowns, opens his mouth like he wants to deny it, but you hold up a finger to stop him. He takes a long sip of coffee and waits.

“You didn’t check on me at all. You weren’t there when I woke up. You never asked if I was okay,” you continue. “You were too busy being angry on Ghost’s behalf.”

“You almost got the both of you killed,” he argues.

“But you cared more about Ghost almost being hurt than the fact that I was,” you say. And dammit, you feel your sinuses burning, but your eyes stay blessedly dry. The anger disappears from his face all at once as realization sinks in. “I mattered to you less than Ghost.”

His hand tightens around his mug, knuckles blanching. “No. No, lass, tha’s no’… you were always… you survived.”

“I felt the worst I ever had in my life, but you didn’t care because I crossed the almighty Ghost,” you insist.

“I cared about you,” he denies.

“But not more than you did about Ghost.” You drag your gaze up to his. Even his eyes look a little wet now. “And that… that wasn’t enough for me.”

You suck in a shuddering breath, trying to loosen the tightness in your chest. Clear your throat once you feel the threatening prick of tears subside.

“I didn’t… it wasnae that,” he rasps. “I ken you think I’m full of shite, but ‘s true.”

You do think he’s full of shit. Maybe not on purpose, maybe he really does think he cared about you as much as Ghost, but you know better.

“I was just… so angry wi’ you,” he explains. “You could have died. Nearly got Simon killed, all because you thought you knew better.”

You exhale hard. “You’ve never made a bad call?” you challenge.

“It wasnae your call to make. You should have listened to Ghost. Instead, you—”

“I what?”

Your fingers tingle, numb. Can’t even feel the spoon, or the chill of the yogurt cup anymore.

“You disobeyed orders, it was so—”

“I didn’t.”

He stops. Stares. “What?”

You stare right back, “I didn’t disobey orders.”

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Masterlist

[moonstruckme]

Like I said- sorry , I'm sending alot but you do what works for you 🪻🪻

Can I request apple pie - Eddie- for - red painted nails

Thank you 🪻

No need for sorries my love! Thank you for requesting :)

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 655 words

You knock on the stage door, anticipation crackling in your fingertips. You feel close to bouncing on the balls of your feet. One thing you love about your goofball boyfriend is he never makes you feel stupid for being excited about something small; Eddie is always the most excited.

He sets the bar high even as he opens the door, a grin splitting his face. “Hey, baby. Didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

You guffaw, your offense only half feigned. “When have I missed a show?”

“I figure you’ve gotta get bored with them someday,” he says, but he clearly doesn’t believe it, taking your face in both hands to kiss you hello.

Eddie’s always loving on you, but he gets especially wound up before a show. The kiss is passionate, your mouths opening almost at the outset, and after a few seconds you have to restrain him with a hand on his chest. He gives your bottom lip a tiny nibble, but relents.

“I’m not bored yet,” you reply breathlessly. Eddie grins and steals one more to the corner of your mouth, short and sweet.

“I’ll try to keep you entertained,” he promises. His tone is several shades of smug. “I’ve got a surprise for you tonight. New song at the end of the set.”

Your heart zings. “Yeah? I’ve got a surprise for you, too.”

Eddie tilts his head. “What’s that?”

“Where’s your guitar?”

His eyebrows jump, interest thoroughly piqued. “It’s around. Why?”

“Take me to it?” You can’t seem to keep the smile off your face, and Eddie can’t seem to keep from mirroring it, though his is confused.

“Okay, weirdo.” He leads the way. You wave hello to his bandmates, letting him navigate you to where his guitar is standing against the wall in a corner.

Now, you feel a little bit stupid. You hope you haven’t built it up only to get it wrong. But you crouch beside the guitar, holding your fingers up to it, and the match is perfect.

Eddie gasps loud enough to make you laugh. He drops to his knees in front of you, staring at your red-painted nails with exaggerated reverence.

“Are you fucking with me?”

You laugh again, and he takes your hand in his. You keep your fingers splayed as he holds it out in front of him, eyes moving between his guitar and your nails. After a second he brings your fingers to his mouth, biting the tip of one between smiling teeth.

“Eddie,” you plead. You’d known he would love it, known he would make a big deal, but still he manages to make you feel shy.

He lets you take your fingers from his mouth but doesn’t let go of your hand. “How’d you do this?” he asks you.

“I just thought of it the other day.” You shrug, self-conscious. “I already had the polish, but when I was looking at it I thought they might be similar.”

“Similar? You cloned it.”

Your smile peeks out again. “I thought we could do yours sometime if you wanted. Like, before a show or something.”

Eddie makes a tortured groaning sound. He looks like he wants to bite your fingers again, but instead he kisses them.

“You’re too fucking cute,” he says, still beaming. “How did I get you?”

“You probably did something really despicable in a past life.”

“How dare you,” he exclaims, delighted. Kisses you hard, fingers tangling in your hair and body pressing close to yours. This time you don’t stop him, but after a while a loud cough from one of his bandmates pulls him away.

“Time to go?” you ask.

He sighs petulantly. “Yeah. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you,” he says, standing up and picking up his guitar. “My surprise is never gonna hold up against yours.”

“I only painted my nails,” you say.

“Exactly! How am I supposed to top that?”

[chiiyuuvv]

bathing with riize ★

boyfriend!riize 1k words

notes! rewriting this because i found my previous version very explicit :')

▸ 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺?

shotaro 🫧

you’re immediately dragged to the dinner table as soon as you return home later than usual

taro gives you his classic sweet smile as he pulls your chair open so you can sit and enjoy the warm meal he prepared for you while you were gone

a little disappointed when your boyfriend leaves you to eat dinner alone, but you know it isn’t in spite when you hear him running a bath in the background

carefully strips off your clothes because you’re his precious girl, then leads you to the warm tub so you can relax from your stressful day

thoroughly washes your body, stopping at certain areas to massage any sore spots as you ramble about your day

not to mention the random forehead kisses he gives you as you talk, receiving his full attention 

when you’re done, he dresses you in your favorite pajamas (an oversized shirt of his) and tucks you into bed <3

eunseok 🫧

the exact opposite as shotaro’s.. whoopsie

instead it’s you preparing his meal and bath

which he stares at you like 😐 because no no no! it’s supposed to be HIM giving you princess treatment, not the other way around

hates you so much because why does it feel so good being the center of attention? you’re hands lathering soap up and down his shoulders as you whisper sweet ‘you did so well today’’s in his ear

he’s falling for you so hard as if you aren’t already dating. you have no idea how whipped he is for you

because he’s such a brat that can’t have nice things, he splashes water in your face when you go to kiss him

about to burst out laughing when suddenly he’s drenched in water

water fight!!

sungchan 🫧

when sungchan invites you to the bathroom, you don’t like calling it a shower

it’s more so “chani hugging you so tightly you can barely move, so you just stand in the raining water”

don’t get me wrong,, you still enjoy it though!!

sungchan’s arms firmly wrapped around your waist as his nuzzles his wet hair against your neck, placing kisses on your skin from time to time

you like to talk about each other’s days during this time, or discuss future dates

loves loves loves to dry your body once you’re done “showering”, his eyes littered with adoration as he mumbles how pretty his girl looks

also loves when you return the favor <3 looks down at you as you dry his hair, his hands going back to hold your waist

looks at you like you hung the stars above your apartment roof, a soft smile tugging at his lips because he thinks you’re sooooooo cute it’s almost pathetic 

wonbin 🫧

i noticed male idols with longer hair always complain about how high maintenance their locks get

wonbin was that way too, until you suggested washing his hair for him

he’s so whipped from the feeling of your hands tangled in his curls that he would happily turn into rapunzel so he can return to that feeling every night (no pun intended hehe)

he looks so damn cute with his head resting against your lap when you’re washing him over the tub, his eyes closed as soft hums leave his lips when you scratch his scalp

leans into your warmth when you’re drying his hair, looking up at you like the happiest man in the world

seunghan 🫧

seunghan, being the observant boyfriend he is, always notices you use your sunday’s as your spa day

realizes how much you fancy spending hours in the bathroom lavishing yourself with sweet scents from your soaps / lotions, or shaving hairy body parts

seunghan loves how attentive you are to yourself, and he can’t help but want to accompany you during your special time

carefully spreads shaving cream all over your legs, tracing little hearts and stars into the foam before shaving it away

sometimes he feels mischievous, like giving you a bubble mustache or tickling your feet when he’s shaving you

his nose always scrunches when he hears your cute laughter, giggling like a lovesick boy internally 

honestly just happy to be there, the room filled with his sweet words as he watches you take care of yourself with hearts in his eyes

sohee 🫧

BUBBLE BATH !!

why sohee wanted one in the first place, the world will never know. but it did know how excited you got from the idea

while sohee’s busy running the bubbly bath water, you’re scurrying around the house to find bath bombs, rubber ducks, and literally anything else that could go in your tub

sohee makes himself a bubble hat and you’re busy making yourself a beard

if anyone walks in the bathroom y’all are cookeddd 💀🙏 but it doesn’t matter because they’re just haters that don’t know how to have fun 🤣

actually one of the reasons why you love sohee and his energy so much because he always entertains your inner child and encourages you to be a little silly for once

“who cares what other people think? nothing matters as long as i’m with you” and vise versa <3

anton 🫧

anton doesn’t partake in any washing, but it’s still cute so shush

wind down = doing everything together

that means eating dinner together, matching pj’s, heck even falling asleep at the same time

(which is a lie because anton likes to spend a couple extra minutes admiring your sleepy face)

loves to watch you brush your teeth at the same time, his eyes forming into small crescents as he wraps his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer to himself

also loves being dangerously close to your face to apply lotion and chapstick to your skin and lips so you don’t wake up feeling dry

(the chapstick part is useless because he always kisses it off of you)

instead of immediately going to bed, sometimes you like to have a small pillow fight which ends with him on top of you on the floor as he tickles your sides until you’re crying from laughter

other times you have soft makeout sessions because anton can’t keeps his hands and lips to himself

you still fall asleep with anton’s head nuzzled into your neck, his arms wrapped around your waist like a birthday bow as his breath fans your skin

that’s still a win in my book 🤷

︴bonus! planning to draft a xikers hc pretty soon .. schedule is slowly clearing up!

▸ taglist 📬 @cake1box , @wccycc , @babigriin , @soul-is-a-strange-kid , @riize119 ,

@mxlly143 , @yeosayang , @lecheugo , @hanajm , @addictedtohobi ,

@yuniniverse , @yoiiwonn , @bambisnc , @skyblue84

🎬 navi

@chiiyuuvv on tumblr . do not steal works/headers/line dividers

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Apples & Blood

note: Surprise fic! Happy spooky season, I have returned from the grave. Dedicating this fic to @sihtricsafin 🖤🔪

warnings: 18+!! Minors DNI. fluff/smut/light angst. Mention of blood, death, murder, alcohol and knife play. It's a slasher fic, okay?

pairing: Ghostface!Sihtric x fem!reader

summary: A Halloween party showed you that Sihtric would kill for you, literally.

word count: 4.6k

Masterlist

Reblogs & comments are immensely appreciated.

You had known your friends and their friends for years, and you would never deny that you always had a thing for Sihtric. Sihtric was an indirect friend as he was friends with Uhtred, your best friend Gisela's boyfriend. You knew Sihtric was single but you had just never found the courage to really try your chances with him on the occasions you got to see him, mainly because of the mixed signals he always gave you. You usually met Sihtric during parties throughout the year and the occasional festival. He was always flirty and quite handsy with you, but apparently never interested enough to take you home or ask you out on a date. You had kissed him a few times, but you figured he was always too drunk to remember those moments you considered sacred, so all you could do was admire him while you occasionally stalked his social media, just to see his pretty face.

When Gisela invited you to go apple picking with a couple of others, Sihtric included, you didn't even have to think twice to say yes, because that meant you would finally meet your crush in a completely sober state. And naturally your friends were aware that you were hopelessly in love with him, so they made sure to pair you with Sihtric before you all disappeared between the apple trees, to fill your baskets for the Halloween party that Gisela and Uhtred were throwing later that night.

'It's good to see you again, beautiful,' Sihtric smiled as he went in for a hug upon meeting you, 'how long has it been? At least half a year?'

'Something like that,' you blushed as if you didn't know it had been exactly 22 weeks, 'the last time was at Osferth's birthday party,' you reminded him.

'That was a good night,' Finan grinned and nudged Osferth, who smiled shyly.

'Osferth's party, right,' Sihtric nodded, 'I can't remember much of that to be honest.'

'What a surprise,' Gisela mumbled as she shoved an empty basket in his hands.

Gisela knew Sihtric had kissed you that night, but he clearly couldn't remember it while she knew you remembered it all too well. Gisela had been the one to console you when you were in tears the next day, because you didn't understand what the problem was between you and him; always making out and yet never taking it any further, it was killing you.

You gave Gisela a pained smile, acknowledging her bitterness towards Sihtric which you more or less shared with her. Because as much as you liked him, it did sting that he always made it seem that he felt something for you, but then acted as if nothing had occurred when he met you again.

However, you were not going to let that ruin your day. You were more than happy to be in Sihtric's presence, but you were also nervous and you could barely hide it. Sihtric looked so handsome with his short dark hair and his all black clothing, it was hard not to stare at him with flushed cheeks as you made your way through the apple orchard, looking for that perfect tree to pick from. 

Sihtric always had something of a mysterious vibe around him, and his high dose of charm made it easy to be liked and admired by many. You knew he could be clumsy too, you had seen him trip over his own feet and spill his drink at festivals and parties plenty of times, but that never took away any of the pleasant danger you felt around him though. There was something about him that was thrilling and exciting, something dark perhaps, but you weren't one to shy away from that.

'How many apples do we need to pick?' Sihtric suddenly questioned as you both strolled past the trees.

'Enough,' you shrugged, 'Gisela wanted to bake a few apple pies for the party tonight. Oh, and I believe she also needs apples for the apple bobbing.'

Sihtric hummed at your response and reached for his ankle, pulling out a knife from under his jeans which he always wore strapped to his ankle underneath his clothes, and he began to slice some apples off a tree while you held the basket for him.

'I guess if we all have a full basket of apples it should be more than enough.'

Sihtric laughed, 'Oh, I wouldn't count on Uhtred and Gisela having a full basket.'

'What do you mean? Why wouldn't they?'

'Because,' Sihtric chuckled and leaned with his shoulder against the tree while he used his knife to peel an apple, 'they're most likely fucking in the grass somewhere by now,' he said and took a bite of the fruit.

'You're probably right,' you laughed, 'and you know what, good for them.'

'Good for them,' Sihtric agreed with a smile as he looked at you in silence for a moment. 'You know,' he said and smacked his lips, 'I do remember Osferth's party. Well, not all of it, but I remember we kissed,' he said nonchalantly and ate another slice of apple, 'actually, I remember all the times we kissed.'

'What?' you said as your cheeks reddened and you dropped the basket, 'I… I always thought you… you were drunk-'

'Tipsy, sure,' Sihtric said and offered you a slice of apple, which you politely declined, 'but I was not drunk whenever we kissed. Look,' he sighed and stepped closer, 'I like you and I know you like me. And I could tell by Gisela's sneer earlier that everyone knows we like each other.'

'No,' you scoffed lightly, 'everyone knows I like you, but no one knows you like me. Hell, I didn't even know you liked me, you asshole!' you smiled and punched his chest.

'Yeah, love you too,' Sihtric replied with a grin and took your hand, 'but now you know. So, will you be my date to the party tonight then?'

'I don't know,' you hesitated, 'will you pretend tonight that we never had this conversation?'

'I promise I won't,' he said and pulled you closer to wrap his arms around you, 'I didn't want to make things awkward if maybe we didn't work out. And I guess I was also just afraid to hurt you, that's why I never acted further on my feelings. And then there's Aethelred who is always interrupting at parties.'

'Aethelred is a sick fuck who just won't leave me alone,' you sighed.

'He stalks you?'

'Not exactly, he just always tries to flirt but he gives me the creeps. But this is not about him, why do you think you would hurt me?'

'There's a lot you don't know about me, darling,' Sihtric whispered as you placed your hands on his chest, 'and the last thing I want is to scare you off.'

'I'm not scared easily,' you scowled.

'Oh yeah?' Sihtric smiled and bit down on his lip, 'then tell me, pretty, what's your favourite scary movie?'

'Okay, Mister Ghostface,' you laughed, 'sorry to disappoint you, but Scream is not my favourite scary movie. In fact, Scream isn't scary at all. My favourite horror is Hereditary.'

'Heredi-,' Sihtric paused, sighed and then looked at you disapprovingly, 'oh sweetheart, you got a lot to learn about scary movies.'

'What?! It's a classic too! It makes you think, it's greatly done.'

'It's greatly boring,' Sihtric snorted, 'but fine, I won't tell you it was an awful movie. However,' he murmured and leaned in closer until your noses almost touched, 'how about you come over to my place sometime, and then I'll show you some good scary movies?'

'I'll think about it,' you teased, 'but it'll entirely depend on how you will behave tonight. Because if you pretend we never had this conversation you can forget about your stupid scary movies too.'

'Ouch,' Sihtric pouted and grabbed his chest, 'I promise I won't do that shit again. I already told you I liked you, there's no coming back from that, is there?'

'Yeah, well, we'll see.'

'You'll see,' Sihtric smiled and took your chin, 'you'll see I'm serious about you, darling,' he whispered and then kissed your lips.

You leaned into him and moved your hands up into his hair, gently pulling his short locks while he kissed you deeply and let his hands roam freely over your body. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you both ran out of breath quicker than either of you liked, and therefore Sihtric was the one who broke the kiss before all self control would be lost.

'Listen, sweetheart,' he murmured against your lips, 'there's nothing I'd rather do than kiss you for hours here, but if we continue this I'm pretty sure we'll end up in the grass too.'

'Is there a problem with that?' you smirked.

'I never said that,' Sihtric chuckled, 'but I'd rather have you somewhere a little more private,' he winked and pecked your lips again, 'now, let's go pick some apples so we can get out of here.'

Sadly enough you and Sihtric didn't see each other anymore after picking apples together. He was tasked to decorate the house with Uhtred while you and Gisela made apple pies, and Osferth and Finan were prepping the booze and making sure there would be music at the party. You were all too busy to take a break, and before you knew it you had to go home to change into your party outfit. You kept it simple and dressed as a vampire, wearing a sexy black dress while fake blood dripped down your chin. You wore black make-up around your eyes and your lips were an alluring dark red colour, and you hoped Sihtric would think you'd look to die for.

You were happy to see that the party was a success and everyone enjoyed the apple pies you helped bake, and there was also a line to bob some apples from a large bowl. You enjoyed a drink and the music while you waited for Sihtric to show up, but when you still hadn't seen him after about an hour you began to feel a little hopeless. And to make that feeling worse, Aethelred suddenly came up to you, dressed like a medieval king with a gaping wound on the back of his head. You rolled your eyes and sighed numerous times while being stuck listening to him talk like he owned the world, and you had to slap his hands off you several times before he offered to get you a drink from the shed, which was located in the far back of Gisela and Uhtred's backyard.

You were glad to be rid of that poor excuse of a man for a few minutes, but when he still hadn't returned with a drink after fifteen minutes you decided to go and get a drink yourself.

'Typical,' you muttered as you made your way through the dark backyard, 'I have to hear him yap for an hour and then he doesn't even bring me the drink he promised.'

The music sounded muffled as you tried your best to follow the path. The backyard was dark and big, the long pathway to the shed was barely visible and there was no one else around. Despite all the cold drinks being in the shed, most people stocked up on their booze in one go so they didn't have to keep walking back and forth, and you wished you had been that smart too as you began to feel cold the further you walked. When you finally reached the shed you searched for the lightswitch, your hands going through multiple cobwebs before you found the switch, which made you shiver, and when you eventually flipped the switch you found out that the light was broken.

'Of course,' you groaned.

You grabbed your phone out of your small shoulder bag, using its flashlight to find the refrigerator so you could grab yourself a drink and get back as fast as possible, because that shed always freaked you out. It was so dark and deserted, you always thought it was a perfect place to murder someone for some reason. And beside that, you also knew the shed was a breeding place for spiders, so you refused to shine your light any further than you had to, not wanting to know what kind of demonic eight legged creatures were living in the far back of that damned shed. A sigh of relief left you when you finally grabbed yourself a cold bottle of booze, but then just as you slammed the door shut a voice behind you sounded and startled you.

'Surprise, darling.'

'What the fuck!' you shouted and dropped the bottle on the floor as you turned to point your flashlight towards someone dressed as the Ghostface killer from the Scream movies.

'What's the matter, baby?' Sihtric chuckled and took off his blood splattered mask, 'you look like you've seen a ghost.'

'Oh my god, you asshole!' you shouted and punched his chest with shaking hands.

'Did I scare you?' he smiled.

'I hate you!' you said with a trembling voice and a nervous chuckle.

Sihtric's smile disappeared when he realised he had truly scared you, and he immediately pulled you in his arms.

'Hey, come here,' he said softly, 'I'm sorry, doll, it was just a joke. I didn't think you'd actually get scared.'

'I know,' you said as you calmed down, 'I'm sorry too. I just… the light doesn't work and this shed freaks me out in general.'

'Yeah I'm not sure what's up with the light either,' Sihtric said, his face half lit as you pointed the flash on your phone downwards to not blind either of you, 'I just arrived and went to get a drink myself when I had the same problem. I then went back to the house to find Uhtred, but before I could reach the backdoor I saw you come out. You didn't see me at all because it's so dark there, so I decided to joke around.'

'Very funny,' you said and rolled your eyes, 'looks like all men are being funny today.'

'What do you mean?'

'Aethelred was bothering me again and after a while said he was going to grab me a drink, but he never returned. That's why I had to go here myself. Have you seen him?'

'Aethelred?' Sihtric asked, 'hm, no, I don't think I've seen him. I really only just arrived a few minutes ago.'

'He probably went to touch up some other girl then,' you said and shook your head, 'what an idiot.'

'Well, wherever he is,' Sihtric said and cupped your cheeks, 'I could care less, because at least I got you all to myself now,' he smiled and kissed your lips, 'I'll grab you a new drink, darling, then we can head back to the house.'

Back at the party you enjoyed your drink as you danced with Sihtric, who looked ever hotter than usual whenever he took off his mask to kiss you.

'Isn't the character you are dressed up as supposed to wear… Well, not cargo pants with a tight fitting shirt?' you laughed while he pecked your lips multiple times.

'Yeah,' Sihtric confessed, 'I was wearing the whole outfit over my clothes, but I tripped and fell earlier in the shed because it was so dark, and I fell into some kind of liquid so I threw the whole thing out right away. Besides,' he shrugged, 'it's all about the mask anyway.'

'You are so clumsy,' you laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck, 'it makes you even more attractive.'

'Glad you think so,' Sihtric smiled and leaned in to kiss you again.

He was relieved you fell for his lie. Because the truth was that he had seen Aethelred heading into the backyard after he had tried to touch you up, and he had followed him and killed him in the shed. And Sihtric was the one who had broken the light on accident during his wild stabbing, by getting his knife caught on the exposed electricity cable mid-murder and causing a power outage. And after that he slipped and fell in Aethelred's blood as he couldn't see a thing in the pitch black shed anymore after his murder, and it was then that he took off the outfit that belonged with the mask, leaving him in just his regular black outfit. And when he was on his way back to the house, he saw you and decided to follow you, making sure you wouldn't find the body of the guy who kept touching you up without your permission, something Sihtric thought he deserved to die for.

'You know,' you said, after Sihtric had found an empty seat and pulled you in his lap, 'for a moment I thought you weren't going to show up tonight.'

'Why did you think that?' he spoke in your ear while mindlessly caressing your bare legs with his tattooed fingers.

'Because I was here for a while already and I didn't see you anywhere,' you spoke against his lips.

You raked your fingers through his hair as he rested his head back on the couch, and you looked down into his love-filled mismatched eyes.

'I've let you slip out of my hands for too long already,' Sihtric said and moved his hand up your thigh, 'I was a fucking idiot for not chasing after you all this time while I should have.'

'Would you chase after me now?' you asked with a smirk and held up his mask.

'Like right now?' Sihtric frowned, then laughed, 'sure, if you want me to chase you.'

'Well,' you said and got up, then leaned in to kiss his cheek and whispered in his ear, 'then catch me if you can.'

You threw the Ghostface mask in his lap and quickly disappeared in the crowded living room, but Sihtric saw you running up the stairs as he got up and put on his mask. He then calmly pushed through the dancing people while pulling his knife from his ankle strap, and he sprinted up the stairs to follow you. You ran into one of the empty bedrooms and closed the door, hiding just next to it so Sihtric wouldn't see you upon opening the door. You held your breath while a feeling of arousal took over when you saw a shadow slowly walking past the door as the music was blasting downstairs, and a soft giggle escaped you when you noticed the shadow walked past the room you were in. It was a small and cosy room, with only a white vanity and a single person bed across from it. You shook your head as you noticed how the mirror was directly in front of the bed, because you knew mirrors are said to drain a person's energy when asleep, and therefore you should never point a mirror directly at your bed. 

And you let your mind wander for a second while Sihtric crept past the closed doors on the second floor, not entirely sure which one to open first. But he stopped when he heard a faint giggle after he had just passed the second door. He took a step back, his face hidden behind his mask while he had his previously cleaned knife in hand, and he gently placed his ear on the door to try and listen for any more sounds.

You were pulled from your thoughts when you saw the shadow step back in front of your door, seemingly standing still and doing nothing, to which you gasped softly and accidentally let your shoulder bag slip down your arm, its chain making a rattling noise and betraying your presence. You kept quiet while the shadow at the door also kept quiet, until you suddenly heard three taps on the door when Sihtric used his knife to knock threateningly. 

'W-who's there?' you asked, knowing it had to be Sihtric, but a rush of nerves and excitement made you unable to think for a second.

Sihtric sighed and opened the door, which made you jump and expose yourself. You stared at his masked face as you backed yourself against the bed, trapping yourself by accident while Sihtric closed the door and slowly stepped closer. His bare muscular arms flexed lightly while he closed in on you as he fidgeted with the knife he held.

'You should never say 'who's there?'. Don't you watch scary movies? It's a death wish,' he chuckled.

'Oh, please,' you laughed, 'as if you're going to kill me.'

'You're right,' Sihtric said and took off his mask, throwing it on the bed before he circled one arm around you to pull you close, 'I'm not going to kill you. Instead', he whispered, slowly tracing your lips with his thumb, 'I'm finally going to fuck you.'

'About time,' you smiled and crawled on the bed.

You seductively pulled up your skirt to expose your panties as you laid back, taunting Sihtric while he threw the knife on the bed as he joined you on top of the sheets. The dark room was lit up just enough by the full Moon outside, casting silver rays across your faces and bodies, highlighting your figures in the most perfect way. You slowly ran your hand up Sihtric's muscular clothed torso, and you then pulled him in by his neck to kiss him deeply and passionately. You both breathed heavily into each other's mouth while you began to undress one another. You made out with such a hunger and deep desire until you were both naked on the bed, touching and teasing each other while moaning against each other's lips until you both couldn't resist the temptation anymore.

'Fuck me,' you half begged.

Sihtric hummed and chuckled at your eagerness, a feeling he shared and was tired of fighting too, so he picked you up with ease and positioned you on your hands and knees with your back turned to him. He then took his knife and leaned in over you, gently pressing the cool blade against your throat without piercing your skin.

'Say that again,' he whispered, his lips touching your ear while he looked at you in the mirror in front of the bed.

'Fuck me,' you smiled with dazed eyes as you looked back at him in the reflecting surface, 'you crazy son of a bitch.'

'I'll fuck you,' Sihtric smiled darkly as he teased you with the tip of his hard, leaking cock, 'who's your daddy?'

'You're my daddy,' you giggled and gasped as he then pushed his length inside you smoothly, yet still stretching you, 'fuck,' you breathed as you grabbed onto the sheets while you adjusted to him, the blade still pressed against your throat.

'Fuck indeed,' Sihtric groaned behind you, then lowered the knife and threw it on the floor, 'fuck, you feel so tight,' he said with a moan, 'I really was fucking stupid for not chasing you sooner,' he laughed while he placed his hands on your hips.

'Wait,' you said before he could thrust into you, 'mask,' you said almost shyly, 'I want you to wear the mask if you're taking me like this, so I can see it in the mirror.'

Sihtric gladly listened to your wish and covered his pretty face with the blooded mask, he then grabbed your hips again and began to fuck you, slowly at first but harder as soon as you had welcomed his entire length and were able to take it. He gave you a firm slap across your ass several times, causing you to moan louder each time while he ravaged you. He had his fingers tangled in your hair, keeping your head up so you could see his muscular body behind you as he fucked you in front of the mirror until all you could do was murmur incoherently while your eyes were heavy and your mind completely fucked empty. Your moans and ragged breaths were in sync with the ridiculously loud creaking of the bed, and it all came to a halt when you both came with near screams of pleasure before you both collapsed on the bed.

And Sihtric's gentle side took you by surprise afterwards, when he took off his mask and laid back, holding you in his arms while murmuring praises and sweet nothings in your ear as you both recovered before you got dressed again. But before you could leave the room, Sihtric finally asked you to be his girlfriend, a question you couldn't possibly say no to. And so you held hands as you made your way down the stairs again, joining the party where seemingly no one had missed the two of you for about an hour. 

Nor had anyone ever noticed Aethelred's disappearance either…

While Sihtric had to go use the bathroom you decided to grab a drink for the both of you, and so you made your way through the dark backyard again and into the shed. You once again used your phone's flashlight to see where you were going inside the shed, and it was then that you gasped at the discovery of Aethelred's dead body in the far corner, after accidentally shining your light that way. You stared at the body that was shoved in the corner, gutted like a fish, and as much as you wanted to scream at the sight of it, you felt a strange calmness taking over. You weren't mortified, as one should be, you were at ease and almost in awe. You then noticed the dark cloth at his feet and reached for it without thinking, discovering that it was exactly the dark attire the killer in those Scream movies wears, and you suddenly connected it to your new boyfriend.

'Oh my god,' you said as you saw the blood dripping off the dark clothing you held in your hands, and you then laughed, 'oh my god, what an idiot.'

You returned to the party without any drinks, but instead held the folded outfit that Sihtric had worn during the murder of Aethelred, and you found your boyfriend just outside the backdoor as he smoked a cigarette.

'Hey, darling,' he smiled as he saw you, 'where'd you go?'

You closed the distance and took his hand, pulling him with you inside the house and to the front door. You both left the party without a word to anyone else and got into Sihtric's car, where you finally showed him your find.

'If you're going to kill someone for me, babe,' you chuckled, 'you should get rid of the evidence too.'

Sihtric stared at the blood stained fabric and was at a loss for words. Not just because you had discovered he had killed someone, but because you had figured out he had killed someone for you and it didn't even scare you.

'Did you learn nothing from those scary movies you watch?' you asked with a grin.

'I guess I didn't,' Sihtric chuckled and then looked at you, 'you're not… afraid?'

'Not really,' you shrugged, 'I mean, you won't hurt me, right?'

'What? No, no,' he said and cupped your cheeks to kiss your lips, 'no, never, darling. I'd never hurt you.'

'Good,' you smiled, 'then the only thing we have to do is to burn this thing,' you said and held up the outfit. 

'We will,' Sihtric agreed and pulled you closer, 'first thing tomorrow, I promise, love.'

'Good. Well… How about we go to your place, babe?' you smiled as you spoke against his lips.

'Sure, I'll take you to my place, sweetheart.'

'Maybe you can show me some of those scary movies you talked about earlier?'

'Ah, who gives a fuck about movies?' Sihtric smiled and kissed you, 'I'd rather watch you all night, baby girl.'

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[quack-quack-snacks]

Time Will Tell - Chapter 24

My Time Will Tell Masterlist

My Cha Hyun-su Masterlist

My Navigation and Masterlist

The Time Will Tell Glossary

Warnings: The spider monster attack, reader gets injured (we love an injured queen), Hyun-su finally gets to choose his destiny (he pulls a Britney Spears). Word Count: 2,260

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You couldn’t stand watching the scene of Hyun-su just dangling in the air, wrapped up with nowhere to go and unable to do anything about it. 

Instead, you went back to the nursery to find your siblings. When you got there, you only saw Yeong-su playing with his dinosaur next to Jin-ok and you walked over to lean down next to him. “Annyeong Yeong-su, have you seen your sister anywhere?” You asked him.

He looked up at you with a small pout. “No. She said she’d come play dinosaurs with me but she hasn’t come yet.”

“I’ll go find her and then the three of us can play. How about that?” You asked him with a smile and he immediately brightened up, nodding ecstatically.

So, you ventured off to find your sister, using it as a distraction from the rescue mission you weren’t participating in on the floor below you. It took you a while but you finally saw her just wandering the halls with a lost look on her face. It brightened when she saw you and you smiled at her. “Yeodongsaeng, you know you’re not supposed to be going off on your own. You’ll get lost or something could happen!” You lightly scolded and held out your hand for her to grab. She did happily and you started leading her in the direction of the nursery. 

“I didn’t mean to, I was just trying to find Mr. Ha-” She was cut off by an ear-piercing screech that sounded from right behind you. You were already preparing to run even before you saw the eight-legged creature crawl out of a vent on the ceiling. 

You acted purely on instinct when you picked Su-yeong up and started running. She screamed as she saw the monster quickly approaching you from behind and hid her face in your neck. You rounded the corner just in time to avoid the beast crashing into you, sending it flying into the wall with a sickening crack! instead. You let out a breath of relief when you saw Mr. Han aiming his crutch gun at the beast and you pushed your legs even faster. “Han Du-sik, move!” You screamed at him when the monster fell to the floor, incapacitated. You knew it would only stay down for so long and you wanted him to get out of there as soon as possible, especially with him being at a disadvantage. 

You didn’t look back, but you could hear the squeaking of his wheels as he pushed them vigorously and sped away. You were set on getting Su-yeong to Jin-ok with your brother and protecting her before retreating to help the man; your axe was in the nursery anyways. 

When you got there, you could see the room was boarded up, each of the residents completely abandoning the drill exercises you all had practiced so many times. It made you furious but you couldn’t do anything about it at that moment. 

You banged harshly on the door to let them know you were out there before setting Su-yeong down and crouching to be at her level. “Get them to open the door for you and stay with Ms. Cha and Yeong-su, okay? I’m going to go help Mr. Han deal with the monster.”

You gave her a kiss on the forehead and ran away, leaving no room for a discussion as you barrelled to where you last saw Du-sik, completely abandoning your axe that was stored inside. 

Sure enough, you found him, but he was lying on the floor, his wheelchair lying sideways with the wheels spinning aimlessly. “Han Du-sik!” You called out, running towards him and putting your arms under his armpits. You tried pulling him away despite his pleas to run away but you weren’t strong enough. The monster arrived just as you’d barely gotten him six feet away from where you found him and you cursed under your breath.

Just when you collapsed, falling beside the man and preparing yourself for the monster’s attack as it neared, Du-sik slammed his crutch against a lever on the pillar beside you. A string attached itself to one of the monster’s legs and left it dangling in the air. You almost let out a sigh of relief until you felt a searing pain slash against your side and you were sent flying in the air. 

One of the spider monster’s legs had flailed around and gone clean through your shirt and side. It held onto your shirt while Han Du-sik grabbed onto your ankle, trying to pull you back. You were amazed at how your flimsy T-shirt was holding strong while the body it surrounded was being tugged in two different directions. 

Turning as much as you could while in the hold of both the monster and Mr. Han, you banged your fists against any part of the monster you could reach with every ounce of strength you had. Your - still injured from you punching the glass case holding the axe just barely three days ago - hand’s wounds must have reopened because you could see the white bandage that wrapped around it was starting to stain itself with a growing blood patch. 

Then, as quickly as you were raised into the air, you were dropped. You fell onto your back, the wind getting knocked out of you and you gasped uselessly. You could distantly hear Mr. Han screaming for you to run away but you could only bring yourself to move a few meters before you collapsed again, still unable to breathe and gasping for air. You gripped at your shirt and clawed at your neck for air until finally, finally, you felt a breath of air find its way into your lungs. You panted heavily, taking in breath after breath greedily and mentally thanking every single tree that existed. You looked up and saw one of the claws had pierced right through Du-sik’s leg, leaving it a bleeding mess on the floor. His face showed no pain so you assumed he couldn’t feel it but it was still a worrying sight. 

You could truly only watch as he hit the monsterized leg going through his own leg. The lack of air, along with the blood loss you were going through with your side bleeding profusely, made your body weak. 

You thanked your saviors when he was able to dislodge the claw and the beast was sent into the air by the group of girls holding the rope. When you looked over, you were able to see your little sister among the mix of people holding the rope; the only one you didn’t see was Eun-yu-

“You ugly eight-legged bastard freak! Fuck you!” 

Speak of the devil.

Eun-yu came sprinting up behind you with a lit Molotov cocktail and chucked it at the monster. You knew she was most likely aiming at its torso but with the way it was thrashing around she only managed to set one of its legs on fire. Regardless, you thanked her mentally as she helped you up and started to basically drag you away to a safer location. You made a note to thank her verbally whenever you regained the ability to speak. 

You stumbled alongside her until you both swung around when you heard screams as the group fell, losing their grip on the creature and unintentionally setting it free. 

You watched as its sights set on you and Eun-yu.

You watched it regain its footing and start crawling towards you.

You watched the horror dawn itself on Eun-yu’s face.

And so you did it without thinking. 

You used every ounce of strength left in your body to shove Eun-yu out of the way. She looked up as you did and screamed your name. A sad smile spread on your face as you accepted your fate. Your only regret was never saying goodbye to your siblings, forcing them to live as they had with your father’s death. You closed your eyes and waited as the creature approached. The screams of all the residents echoed through the room and the howls of the beast got closer and closer until-

What you expected to be sharp claws were instead replaced by a calloused hand spinning you around so that you were back to back with your savior. 

You knew who it was immediately just from the feel of his hand on your skin. Despite the interaction being so fleeting, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to forget the feeling. It was just so uniquely him.

Ji-su suddenly ran up to you just as Eun-yu reached you and together, they helped drag you over to the wall. They leaned you against it and Eun-yu immediately started putting pressure on the laceration on your side. You cried out at the pain but didn't resist it - partly because you were too weak to but also because you knew it would stop you from bleeding out. 

Hyun-su got stabbed multiple times by the monster and you watched it take him down, falling on top of him with screeching howls. The sight was horrifying and if you were strong enough you would have pushed Eun-yu and Ji-su away to rush over and help him. 

It went on for an excruciatingly long minute before both parties of the fight stopped moving. You held your breath - which hurt your side like crazy but you ignored it - and waited, praying he was okay. 

‘Let him be okay. You can take me away but please, please let him be okay...’ You pleaded in your head. 

He finally moved, pushing the monster off and away from him. The sigh of relief you let out was painful but worth it. Wasting no time, he stood up, putting nearly all of his weight on the spear he held and panting heavily. 

Everyone stared at him; some gazes thankful, some in shock, some in fear.

And then there was yours. Your gaze of such relief and affection and…

No… it couldn’t be… right?

You’d barely even known each other for more than two months, and the first month of that was just brief interactions that lasted probably much longer than they should have. 

But there was no other way you could describe this feeling. No other way to describe how your heart lit up just at the sound of his name. How fiercely protective you got whenever someone talked down on him. How you longed for his presence when he was gone. How you were always drawn back to him no matter how hard they (Eun-hyuk) tried to separate you. How you felt no fear for him no matter what state he was in. 

So that’s what it must be. 

Love. 

His eyes found yours and the small voids that absorbed all light like a black hole slowly retreated back into his pupils. His gaze traveled down from your eyes to where Eun-yu’s hands were still pressed into the wound on your side before he looked away. You could see the flash of guilt that covered his face when he saw the blood leaking from behind your shirt and immediately knew his mind was sent into the realm of self-blame. 

He turned, starting to limp in the direction of the arcade room no doubt. He used his spear as a crutch and you yearned to reach for him and help him, but all you could do was watch helplessly as he walked off.

You tugged on Eun-yu’s sleeve with a pleading look. “Help me.”

She nodded, allowing you to wrap an arm around her neck while keeping her hand on your wound and assisting you as you followed after the boy. 

Everyone else seemed to have the same idea as they got there before you, allowing you to watch as Hyun-su opened the door and stepped one foot through the frame before stopping at the sound of his name falling from Ji-eun’s mouth as she stepped to the front.

“Hyun-su,” she called. He stopped and slowly turned around to face her. “I’m sorry. I know we made… things more difficult for you.”

He just stood there watching her, his feelings of confusion and gratefulness at her apology plainly showing on his face. 

Eun-hyuk stepped up next, saying what you’d been begging him to since the beginning. “This time, we’ll let you choose.”

The two choices he had were evident despite Eun-hyuk’s lack of saying them aloud. 

Continue to spend his time in the arcade room, quarantining himself from everyone else.

Or:

Leave the arcade room and join the rest of the residents in their - as free as can be - free lives. 

He stared at the boy who’d just granted him the choice regarding his freedom before skimming his eyes along everyone else. They stopped on you for a moment longer than needed before he turned back to the door. You nearly let out a sob at what you thought would be him going back into the arcade room regardless of the choice given to him, but you were quickly relieved when he retrieved the foot placed inside the room and closed the door. Once he turned back around, you were barely able to give him a smile and sigh out in relief before you could feel yourself fading. 

“Fuck,” you said to yourself softly. Your arm started to slide from its place around Eun-yu despite her efforts to catch you and you fell to your knees before everything went black.

The last thing you remembered was the embrace of someone with soft, yet calloused, hands. 

~

taglist: @hyeon-yi @haowonbins @mythical-mushrooms13

[moni-logues]

Home Run

Pairing: Bangchan x reader (afab, she/her)

Genre: smut, basically pwp but there's a semblance of plot if you read the other pieces, friends-to-lovers

Word count: 2.2k

Content: protected sex, Chan pov

Summary: Different Spaces couple finally score a home run

A/N: when I wrote Different Spaces (over a YEAR ago? 💀💀) I fully intended for them to fuck, but apparently, no, they needed three whole drabbles to themselves. anyway, enjoy! Thanks to @amethystwrytes for beta-ing for me!

Different Spaces (1); Scoreboard (2)

* * *

“Please,” you gasped, voice still high and tight, breath caught in snatches. “Please, can we fuck now?”  

And the starting pistol was fired. You moved off the sofa and Chan moved with you, stumbling towards your bedroom, though he didn’t know why. Didn’t know why the sofa wouldn’t suffice, why it was somehow sullied now. Didn’t care. As long as this happened, kept happening, as long as he got to see you and hear you and touch you some more; his desire yawned open in his chest, awake and hungry. Let out of its cage. 

These past months, away from you, Chan had thought was for the best. His confusion and these feelings that he didn’t believe, didn’t understand, he didn’t want to face you with them. Didn’t want to face them at all. Because it wasn’t what you were. You were friends. That was all and he didn’t want to ruin it. Thought that he was sure to, somehow.  

But now it was a tangle of limbs and sticky skin against sticky skin. All sweat and salt and a kind of feverish urgency he hadn’t expected, hadn’t even dreamt of. He had kept his feelings on lock-down, thought they might go away if he didn’t prod at them, didn’t acknowledge them, but he couldn’t ignore them now: now with your mouth on him like that, with your hands roaming his body, as he swallowed your moan down his throat.  

This pent-up desire was free and he was dizzy with it. Tripping over his feet and tumbling to the mattress on top of you; making up for his clumsiness with kisses on every inch of skin his lips could reach. 

And you, asking, begging, again, one more time, still, even when his lips crushed yours and cut off your words; the second you broke free, you were saying it again. Fuck me. And he was going to, was about to, was pushing himself to his knees and then it hit him. 

“Oh shit,” he breathed, sitting back on his heels with a sigh, hands braced on his knees to try to catch his breath. 

“What?” you asked, similarly panting. “What?” 

“Condom?” 

“Fuck!” 

He watched you twist, your legs trapped between his, to scramble at your bedside unit. He watched your hand search and come up empty, drag open the second drawer and repeat its motions.  

“Do you have one?” you asked, head turned away, struggling to get to the bottom drawer without moving off the bed completely. 

“Why would I have one?” Chan asked back in a squawk though he wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt self-conscious, defensive even.  

“I don’t know; don’t guys carry them in their wallets or something?” 

“You’re my friend; wouldn’t it be weird if I came here with a condom?” 

You turned to look at him, then. Sat up, naked, still squared in with his knees either side of you. You looked at him. Blinked. 

“I don't know, dude, you tell me what the fuck we’re doing here, then.” 

And it came out harsh. Chan blanched. Because what were you doing? Were you really asking? Had this ruined it? Because he felt guilty that he didn’t have a condom in his wallet. Like he usually did. Always did, though he couldn’t really have said why. It was the same fucking condom he had in his old wallet that he transferred over to the new one. The same one that he looked at before coming here tonight. That he wouldn’t have thought twice about before—wouldn't have even remembered it were there. But it was you and something was different and something told him that he shouldn’t go to your place with a condom in his wallet as if he expected something. As if something could ever happen between you. It was presumptuous. It was arrogant. It was foolhardy. 

But nothing about the night had gone the way he had expected it to and now... That fucking condom. If only he had it.  

“Sorry, you’re rig-”  

Apologising on reflex, his chin dipping to his chest, because he’d only gone and fucked it up by overthink- 

Then your hand was on his face and your lips on his, your fingers sneaking into your hair.  

“It’s fine,” you murmured. “It’s fine.” 

And he didn’t know if it was, but you kept kissing him all the same, so he kept kissing you back. Was it fine if this was as far as it went tonight? His cock said one thing and his head said another. Maybe it was better this way, he thought. Maybe rushing headlong into sex would be a bad idea. Mayb- 

You pulled away. 

“I’ve got some,” you whispered, your urgency returning as you scrambled off the bed. “One sec.” 

Oh, thank god. He watched you walk away, the fingers of one hand encircling his hot, heavy shaft, unconsciously, automatically, unable to stop himself. Unable to stop his heart racing as he looked down and remembered your own fingers around him. The softness of your skin. The jolt of arousal when you had teased him, like you usually did but also nothing like that. 

You returned before he had time to think more and extracted one shiny packet from a box which you then let fall to the floor. There was something about you that was shy: lips a little pursed, eyes looking away. He knew you well enough to tell that much.  

“Forgot I had these,” you said quietly, still not looking at him as you knelt on the bed and made your way towards him. “Bought them earlier.” 

Chan’s shock made him laugh. 

“In anticipation of this...?” 

“No!” your denial was swift. “No, it wasn’t like that! I wasn’t planning anything! I just-” 

But he didn’t care. Was laughing because it was he all night who had been flustered by this. It was he who kept saying the wrong thing, wrongfooted all the time by the turn the night had taken. He enjoyed it being you. Enjoyed that the dynamic between the two of you didn’t have to be entirely different. You could still tease him. He could still tease you. 

“I didn’t plan this,” you said, performatively sullen, pouting. 

“But you want it, right?” 

You laughed and pushed him back towards the head of the bed, not bothering to answer with words. You made him sit, made him once again cede control of his cock to you; he let your fingers wrap around him, watched as you stroked him slowly, as your wrist twisted. His eyes fluttered closed for a second, just a second, and when he opened them again, you had the condom packet between your teeth, tearing it open with your free hand. It was boring, really—a mundane gesture—but his dick throbbed, a drop of precum leaking from the top as you spat the empty packet away from you. 

“You sure about this?” you asked, with the tip of his sheathed shaft at your entrance. 

He nodded eagerly, barely able to stop himself lifting his hips to push into you himself. Then he stopped nodding, flicked his eyes to you because why were you asking?  

“Aren’t you?” he replied, a swoop of doubt flying through his guts. 

You nodded back. 

“I’m sure.” 

A swoop of relief. 

“I’m sure.” 

And then he placed a hand on your hip and used his other to hold himself steady, so you could sink down on him, slowly, with a long moan stretching to the ceiling. And, truth be known, if he could have, he might have asked for a second, just a second, to get used to it. The feeling of you. All warm and wet and tight and your burning skin so soft, and your lips so sweet and your eyes dark and sparkling like the brightest night sky. And his heart hammering in his chest like time was running out; his blood boiling, reduced to a thick, sticky syrup that he told himself wasn’t love, not exactly, but wasn’t entirely not. Just a second to gather himself not just because you felt so good but because it was you. 

You didn’t give him a second. No sooner than you had lowered than you raised yourself up again; you set an impatient pace, urgent, running towards something at breakneck speed. Chan, too, then was running. Chan, too, was urgent in his kisses, in his praise, in the way your name caught at the back of his throat when he felt your walls squeeze around him.  

He wished he’d had longer to think about it. Because he hadn’t given himself the chance to imagine this, to get used to the idea of it, to think about how good you would feel, how sweet you would taste. He hadn’t had the opportunity to picture you in his head before you were right there in front of his very eyes. Real. More than real. A kind of hyperreal that made him able to smell the sound of you and hear your taste. He could feel every one of your gasps in his chest. He could moan out the taste of your skin. He could smell your hair and it would feel like satin.  

It would’ve been less overwhelming, he thought, if he’d given himself an imaginary dry run-through. He would be doing better if he’d had a second. If he got a second to get himself together, he’d be able to get over the shock of it. He’d be able to get a hold of his senses and- 

You slowed. Sank down on him, as deep as he could get, and took his face between your palms. Took his lips between yours then slipped your tongue between them. Rolled your hips and moaned into his mouth. It was the tiny bite of pain when your teeth sank into his bottom lip that brought him to his senses. Like the tug on his hair before, the little jolt was enough to bring him around and he pulled back, determined once more to make the most of this for you.  

“I wanna move,” he said, mumbling the words against your mouth in a final kiss before you slipped off him.  

The fact that you then knelt, waiting to be told where he wanted you, made his guts clench. He traced his fingers lightly over your face and then pushed at your shoulder, encouraging you onto your back. He slipped his hands beneath your ankles and lifted, your knees bending as your thighs reached your chest. 

“This ok?” he asked. 

You nodded, settling your ankles over his shoulders, then crossing them and using them to pull him towards you. He laughed, because it was just like you, to never let him get the last word, to never quite let him be in control. He laughed because he liked it, in this capacity even more than any other. In the seconds before he sank himself back into your hot, wet cunt, he imagined you testing him, pushing at that boundary because you could, because he’d let you, because he knew that you liked this as much as he did and if tussling for control was the game, he wanted to play. Even if he let you win. 

As he snapped his hips with his hands tight around your calves, as your walls spasmed and clenched around him, as his ears filled with the slick squelch of his cock in your heat, his head felt clearer. Still hyperreal but in a way that made sense. When he tasted the sound of his name on your tongue, it tasted right. When he smelt the brush of your soft skin against his like roses, he knew. All his anxiety about fucking it up, ruining your friendship, everything that he had been hiding from while he was gallivanting about the globe, it was pointless. It was wrong. It was useless noise in his brain. Because he’d always believed he wasn’t worth it, wasn’t worthy of you, wasn’t worthy of getting what he wanted. But there you were, beneath him, every bit what he wanted and more. Every bit his. 

*  

“You know there’s no going back now,” you said, lying on your bed, stretching your arms and legs long, still naked and glistening.  

“What do you mean?” he asked as he returned to join you, condom neatly disposed. 

You turned on your side to snuggle into him, pressed a firm kiss to his lips. 

“This,” you answered. “We’ve had sex now so you can’t turn around to me and say you actually just want to be friends.” 

He laughed. It was preposterous to him that you might think he would be the one to change his mind.  

“I don’t want to be your friend.” 

“Good.” 

Then you piped up again. 

“I never really liked you much anyway.” 

He chuckled, knew it was a joke; knew it because it was followed by a smile that was all syrup, that left a sticky sweetness on his mouth after you kissed him. 

“Fat chance I’ll believe that. Horse is out of the barn, mate; you just said it yourself: you can’t take this back.” 

“Fuck. I guess you’re stuck with me.” 

“I think I can live with that.” 

[dramioneasks]

Hermione’s Birthday (2024):

Not a Fan of Birthdays by allslowadagio - E, one-shot - Hermione Granger doesn't do birthdays. In fact, she hasn't done birthdays in years. When Draco asks her what she'd like to receive as a gift, she suggests a simple hug. OR The hug is not simple at all and they actually have feelings for each other.

can i be close to you? by theseheavytimes - T, one-shot - “You know, Hermione,” Theo mused. “I’m willing to bet you don’t have to be alone on your birthday if you don't want to be. I bet there’s someone just dying to give you the birthday celebration you deserve.” Theo paused, sliding from the desk and jumping to his feet. He turned his back on Granger as if to pace the length of the room, but really he was staring directly at Draco with that worrying smirk on his face. “And I bet,” he continued, not bothering to hide the sly glee in his voice, “that you wouldn’t have to look very far to find him.” * * * (Or, Draco undergoes daily torture pining after Hermione. Theo decides to put him out of his misery.)

Happy Birthday, Granger by Simply_Lovely_Reader - E, one-shot - Inspired by a POV created by TikTok user @cortneyreinhardt that said "Draco is venting to his friends about how much he hates Granger but lets it slip that he wants to fuck it out of her…" Or, in honor of the birthday I share with the one and only Hermione Granger today, a one-shot of Hermione overhearing Draco say he wants to shag her and years later challenging him to do just that. Happy Birthday Hermione!

birthday dinner by Indigo_Dewdrops - M, one-shot - If Draco did surely he wouldn't have been so calm about facing her at work with that gaudy, golden star balloon and a cupcake, "With love from your Weasel, I assure."

Happy Birthday, Mummy by Dizzle00 - E, one-shot - “To your birth, something I thank the gods for every day.” He shakes his head as if overcome and his voice breaks a little. “The world would be a devastating place without you in it.” She tilts her head with a soft, tender smile and kisses his jaw, clinking her glass against his and taking a sip. He leans in to kiss her again. “You’ll be dessert.” He grins wickedly and Hermione hums, her insides molten at the implications. “What if I want dessert first?” “No no,” Draco tuts, his thumb brushing the bow of her lips. “Naughty girls don’t get dessert. Your job right now is to sit and relax, and let Daddy—“ she raises a brow at the vicious smirk he gives her when using the word—“feed you.”

celeste granger-malfoy by riddikulus_puff - T, one-shot - Celeste Cassiopeia Granger. Hermione’s saving grace in the form of a little pale pink bundle of joy. She couldn’t have asked for anything better.

A Manor of Iniquity by SparklesMagicLightLove, writetimewrongmuse - E, one-shot - Hermione’s hands shake at her back. The desire to look upon him—to see his piercing gaze as he inspects her, bound, naked, and bowed on the floor of his ancestral home—courses through her like ecstasy. And he knows it. Or For Hermione’s Birthday, she decides to reclaim her identity. Her husband is all too happy to oblige in her degradation fantasy.

Happy Birthday, Granger by Fawkes_in_sox - T, one-shot - An angsty double drabble for our girl's birthday. (Star-crossed lovers pine pathetically for each other instead of working out their problems on Hermione's birthday.)

Happy Birthday, Baby by morriganmercy - E, one-shot - Just because Hermione is another year older, doesn’t mean she can’t feel little sometimes. And just because Draco is nearly a year her junior, doesn’t mean she can’t call him Daddy. [One for the daddy kink girls who tragically fell in love with someone their own age.]

[judeable-brainrot]

CONGRATS ON A 100 JUDE!!!! i’m so happy for you love, you’re such a talented writer & you deserve all the love & followers in the world <33

to celebrate… i’m thinking about art very nervously & shyly telling you that he wants to try wearing panties, cute pink lacy ones… & ofc you’re immediately obsessed with the idea & suck him off through his panties & make him ruin them! 😇😇 & then you buy him new ones ofc!

DYLAN!!! my fav <333 thanks for this, i was GAGGED!

it was late, dinner had been finished, dishes settled in the drying rack and you and Art were prepping for bed. you sat gently on the side of mattress, slipping your socks off and setting down your book before settling under the covers. you smile as you watch Art enter from the bathroom in his blue and white pajamas. "hey, puppy.." he blushes on instinct at the nickname, smiling sheepishly. "hey. um..before we go to bed, i wanted to talk to you about something, if that's alright." you nodded, expression shifting. "yeah. what's up, Artie?"

he shuffles his feet in the doorway, looking down at the carpet shyly. "i um..i want to try something new...in bed." oh. your interest is piqued and you sit up a bit more. "oh? okay, what did you have in mind?" Art swallows deeply and speaks in a whispers you don't quite catch. "speak up for me, puppy." Art's blush deepens and he speaks a little louder. "i--i wanna wear panties..for you." you feel that familiar heat boil in your stomach. "o-oh.." Art backtracks, thinking you don't like this idea. "b-but we don't have to if you don't want to! sorry it's so stupid i'm sorry i even brought it up that was s—" "Artie!" you almost shout over him. "Artie, it's...it's fine. more than fine..i-i'm into it. a lot."

Art looks at you with those wide, blue eyes. "you...you're into it..?" you nod, smiling softly. "yeah..yeah i am. i really am." he nods. "oh. cool. okay..um.." "i have a pair that would be perfect for you." Art's ears go crimson red. "r-really? right now?" "yeah, if you're up for it." he pauses and then nods. "y-yeah..yeah. i am. i want to." you smile wider and slide out of the bed, walking over to your dresser and searching through your top drawer. you pull out a pair of pink lace panties with little bows around the waistband and walk over to him, placing them into his hands. "go try them on." he blushes deeply and nods, obediently walking back into the bathroom and shutting the door. you hear the shuffling of clothes and feet from behind the door, seating yourself on the edge of his side of the bed.

he emerges a few moments later, body covered in a pink blush that matches nearly perfectly to the panties that now cover his lower body. your jaw goes slack, pupils dilating at the sight. they're small on him, tight against his hips and his evident bulge. it's leaving very little to the imagination, barely containing him as it is. "fuck, puppy...look at you." he whimpers softly. "you like it...?" "i fucking love it." you stand from the bed, approaching him slowly, hands reaching out to take his hips and pull him closer. "so fucking hot, baby...god.." you lean down and kiss his neck softly, starting to trail down his body. he whines, leaning into the affection. "y-yeah..?" "yeah...wanna suck your cock, that pretty, pretty cock..can i?" Art moans and nods. "yeah..yes, please, please, want it, so bad.."

you smiled and continued to kiss down his body, sinking to your knees on the floor in front of him, face to face with his bulge, a wet spot forming on the pink lace. you nuzzle your nose into it like a cat in heat, before licking wet stripe up his length. he whimpers, pressing back against the wall behind him, hands going into your hair. "please..." "you're so pretty in my panties, Artie.." he moans, tugging your hair. you smile against him, mouthing over the lace even further, starting to suck him through it. he whimpers and moans, hips bucking, the fabric amplifying the experience tenfold. "please! oh fuck, please please please!" you chuckle and suckle on his wet tip a bit, feeling the pre spurt against your lips through the fabric. "ah!" your hands slide up and down his thighs, supple and hairless, before winding around to grip at his firm ass, barely contained by the panties on him. "feel good, baby?" he whines.

you continue to lick and suckle at his cock like a needy puppy, smiling as you do. the sight is beautiful, him in your pink panties being absolutely debauched by your mouth. "ohhh...baby, baby, baby..! 'mgonnacum!" he rushes out, thighs tensing. you moan, letting the vibrations do their work on his sensitive cock, squeezing his ass as you do. "c'mon...make that pretty mess for me, pleasee.." his hips buck desperately against your mouth, rutting into the heat just out of reach with the fabric containing him. high, whiny sounds escape his lips in a rush. you can feel him throbbing, seeing his desperation. "b-b-baby!!" is the final warning you get before his thighs clench and his hips thrust into your face as he cums, the wet spot becoming obscene as a little of the white fluid spills through and down the front of the panties. you lick it up before pulling away and settling back on your heels. "so pretty...my pretty puppy..." Art blush deepens, if that's even possible, panting hard from his exertion. your panties are ruined but you purchase several new pairs the very next morning just for him.

[thewritergremlin-rae]

Hi! If you wanted to could you write a Soulmate AU or Drunken confessions (Loki x reader) pls thanks <333

Thanks for the request anon! I have way too many soulmate AU ideas already so I went with drunken confessions ehehehe

A Casual Exchange

Pairing: Loki x Reader Rating: M Words: 763 Content: 2nd person, fluff, drunken/tipsy reader Summary: Your night winds to a close - your parting words leaving Loki stunned. AO3: HERE

Banner by cafekitsune

You hadn’t meant to get drunk. 

No. Really. 

You’d been nursing one glass, only it had never ended. You had a feeling your favourite Asgardian had something to do with it. Plopping down on the couch, your drink sloshed but you didn’t feel a splash and, looking over at Loki, none of it had spilt on him either. 

Your eyes got a little stuck on Loki, like they always did. Such a beautiful being. Skin - flawless, cheekbones - sharp enough to cut yourself on, legs - never ending. 

The sound of him clearing his throat brought your gaze back to his face but you didn’t feel any of that familiar, heavy embarrassment in your stomach. You laughed as he arched a delicate eyebrow. 

“Yes, dear?” His eyes sparkled with mischief, his gaze washing over your swaying, the slight dazed look in your eyes, and the curve of your lips as you giggled. 

The giggling was his favourite. 

“Are you having fun, Loki?” You laid your arm out over the back of the couch and flopped your head down on it as you waited for his answer. Fingers caught the end of his curls, twisting and twirling them, brain fizzing and focusing on the silky feel. 

Loki snorted softly, you having no idea you’d missed his answer. “You seem to be having far more fun.” 

You giggled again and tugged a little on the curl, watching it bounce back into place. “Yeah…  Do you use magic on these?” You flicked a curl again and his long fingers curled around your traitorous ones. 

“No, that would be pointless when I can simply use products. And I certainly would never be so strange as Midgardians as to put dangerous chemicals in my hair to change the colour.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you processed the information. “Guess you’re right. See, that’s why humans should be feared. What other race kept eating mushrooms until they found the ones that made them trip balls?”

“You also season your food with peppers that developed semi-poisonous defense mechanisms to avoid being eaten, your race deciding that that makes them taste good.” 

You laughed and grinned. “Jalapeno poppers are the best and you’re just jealous you don’t have processed sugar on your planet.”

Loki gave an elegant shrug. “I concede that chocolate is certainly one of your species’ better inventions.” He smiled, pulling a bar seemingly from nowhere as he traded it for your drink. 

Probably a good idea, you were just on the edge of sober enough to know that as you dug in and nibbled. “Thanks, Loki, you’re the best.” 

A subtle twitch in his expression caught your eye but you weren’t sharp enough to figure it out right now. Actually, Loki should have some of this chocolate too but his hands were pretty full. 

You snapped off a piece and held it to his lips, grinning when he accepted it with nothing more than a cocked eyebrow. But he soon got his own back, dragging a gasp from your soft lips when he nipped the tip of your thumb. 

You stared at your thumb as you brought it back to you. It tingled a little, still warm. 

A distant laugh had the sounds of the party around you filtering back in and you realised it’s a little loud. “Me and the chocolate are going to go to bed.” Loki seemed a little sad to lose your company but perhaps he shouldn’t have refilled your cup so much. No-one was ever thankful for a hangover. 

“A good idea. Good night.” 

“Night night, Loki. Love you.” You leaned forward with a bounce to kiss his cheek and got to your feet, leaving him stunned.

Did you just say…

You waved to him as if you didn’t just profess your love for him and disappeared inside the elevator. How could you not realise….? 

You hummed to yourself, nibbling at the chocolate. Head empty, no thoughts as you crossed to your bedroom door. 

Wait.

Did you say ‘love you’ to Loki? Your brain slowly swings back to the memory and your eyes widen when you hear the words in your own voice. 

Oh shit. You hurried back to the elevator, cut short by the appearance of a firm chest in your narrowed field of vision.

“Did we perhaps realise what we said, love?” Loki whispered, hoping he looked not the least bit flustered by your casual admission. His arms caught you and held you close before he caught your lips. 

“Loki…” you breathed and he chuckled. 

“I might be persuaded to remind you come morning.” 

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Tags: @kindadolly @ilovetaquitosmmmm @satan-ate-my-sandwitch @ravenswritingroom

[pickingupmymercedes]

Lucky you're hot - Lewis Hamilton

request: "hiiiii!!! your fluffs are so cute 😔🤍 i have a request if you dont mind writing it. maybe one where reader came home from work and then after an hour or so lewis just come barging in saying that reader has been home for a while but didnt even cuddle him once?😔😔😔😭" - anon

warnings: none, it's fluff through and through.

wordcount: +1k

a/n: Needy and cute Lewis and sassy Lewis come hand in hand for me, so yeah, hope you like it ❤️

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

Why did I agree to this meeting? It was a thought I’d had at least a dozen times today.

I kicked the front door shut behind me, tossing my bag onto the couch without even looking. My feet were halfway out of my heels as I practically flew down the hall toward the study.

I should’ve been curled up on the couch by now, probably in one of Lewis’ hoodies, something hot in my hand, and maybe, just maybe, thinking about ordering dinner.

But no, I was about to dive headfirst into yet another Zoom call.

The joys of modern life.

Ten minutes. Just survive ten minutes, and then you can call it a night.

I slid into the chair, popping open my laptop with a level of enthusiasm I definitely didn’t feel. Clicking into the meeting, I gave the screen a once-over.

Same old faces. I hit mute, leaned back, and settled into my usual routine—pretending to pay attention while my mind wandered elsewhere.

Perfect. Camera on, mic off, brain in neutral.

I was practically a Zoom ninja at this point. As long as I nodded occasionally and didn’t zone out too hard, no one would even notice I wasn’t listening.

The meeting droned on, voices blending into a background hum as I half-heartedly doodled on a notepad. Something about deliverables, reports, something-or-other that I wasn’t going to remember in an hour.

My eyes kept drifting toward the clock at the bottom of the screen, counting down the minutes until I could escape.

I barely registered the sound of the door creaking open behind me. My brain was too fried to even care. I assumed it was the wind.

Or maybe Lewis moving around the house. Whatever it was, it wasn’t important enough to break my focus—or lack thereof.

Then, I heard footsteps. Heavy, deliberate, and way too familiar.

Before I could fully process what was happening, a very large, very sweaty figure appeared in the doorway and my stomach dropped.

Not now. And not like that.

“Excuse me, love” Lewis announced, his voice filled with dramatic offense. “You've been home for an hour, and not one cuddle? I’m feeling deeply neglected.”

I froze, my fingers tightening around the pen in my hand. I shot him a wide-eyed look, silently screaming at him to go away. But he wasn’t even looking at me.

No, this man was strolling into the room as if I wasn’t in the middle of an important meeting. Or, you know, on camera.

Lewis, completely unbothered, strolled over, looking every bit the part of an Olympic athlete straight out of battle—glistening with sweat, muscles still tense from whatever torturous workout he’d just finished.

And for some reason, pouting.

“Lewis” I hissed under my breath, barely daring to move my lips. “I’m in a meeting.”

He just blinked at me like he didn’t understand the gravity of the situation and I saw the gears in his head turning.

But, without a care in the world, he walked over and bent down, leaning in close, lips puckered in the most exaggerated, dramatic fashion possible.

I raised my hand to stop him, but it was too late. His lips landed on mine with a loud, unmistakable smack.

The kind of kiss that would’ve been cute—if it weren’t for the fact that I was very much on camera, in a professional setting, with a dozen or so people watching.

“LEWIS,” I whisper-yelled, my eyes wide with horror as I frantically glanced at my screen.

Sure, my mic was muted, but my camera definitely wasn’t.

There, staring back at me, was a grid of stunned, amused faces, watching the world’s most casual Zoom crash unfold before their eyes.

Great, this was really happening.

I held up a hand to the screen, as if that would somehow undo what just occurred.

“Uh… sorry, everyone,” I said, my voice coming out more flustered than I intended. “Apparently, I’ve been home for an hour and, uh… neglected someone.”

Yeah, I was never living this down.

That’s when I noticed it—half the people on the call were starstruck. Eyes wide, jaws dropped, as if Lewis Hamilton walking into my study had somehow shattered the laws of the universe.

It got better and better.

Apparently, some of them hadn’t put two and two together that my Lewis Hamilton was the multiple world champion of F1, Lewis Hamilton.

Lewis, still completely oblivious to the chaos he’d caused, blinked at the screen and it took him a second—an agonizingly long second—before he finally seemed to register the fact that we had an audience.

“Oh,” he said, blinking again. “Uh… Hi, everyone.”

The laughter was immediate. My entire screen lit up with amused faces, and I could feel the heat rising in my neck.

I wanted to crawl under the desk and hide forever, but Lewis? He just stood there, completely unbothered, one arm casually draped over my shoulder like this was all part of the plan.

One of my colleagues cleared their throat, clearly trying - and failing - to hold back laughter.

“You know, Y/n,” one of them said, smirking, “if you ever need to end a meeting early, just invite Lewis.”

The rest of the group erupted in laughter again, and I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips.

Real funny, dude. Hilarious.

I noticed some of the newer faces on the call still looking at Lewis like they couldn’t believe their eyes. A few of them nudging each other in the chat, their messages popping up on the side of my screen.

“Wait… is that Lewis Hamilton?” one person wrote, followed by another typing, “How did I not know she’s dating him?!” and a string of heart-eye emojis.

Great. Just what I needed. Let’s add a little office gossip into the mix while we’re at it.

Lewis squeezed my shoulder, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the top of my head. As if I wasn’t already mortified enough, I thought.

I shot him a look, my eyes narrowing into a silent warning. Don’t push your luck, Hamilton.

But all he did was smirk back, leaning in closer, like he was about to kiss me again.

“I swear to God,” I muttered under my breath

“I missed you” he whispered back, the teasing lilt in his voice making it impossible for me to stay mad.

I glanced back at the screen, my colleagues still chuckling amongst themselves. Okay, that was definitely the universe telling me to call it a day.

Clearing my throat, I forced a smile and addressed the group. “Right,” I said, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism. “I think we’ve covered everything, haven’t we?”

A few of them nodded a little too eagerly, clearly ready to wrap things up.

“Yeah,” someone chimed in, “we’ll, uh, let you get back to your important duties.”

The laughter returned, and I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes again.

With one final, hasty goodbye, I clicked out of the meeting and slammed my laptop shut with a little more force than necessary.

“You realize what you’ve done, right?” I said, turning to Lewis, who was now looking far too pleased with himself.

He grinned, that signature, disarming smile. “Fixed your day?” he said, pulling me into his arms with ease.

I let out a long, dramatic sigh but didn’t resist when he wrapped his arms around me. “Fixed it, huh?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “Meeting’s over, and now I get my cuddles.”

This man… I swear.

I thought, though I couldn’t help but smile as I rested my head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“You’re lucky you’re hot” I mumbled into his chest; my voice muffled by the fabric of his still sweaty shirt.

He chuckled, his hand gently stroking my back. “Lucky, huh?”

“Very” I whispered, closing my eyes and letting myself melt into the warmth of his embrace.

Because, truth be told, as much as Lewis drove me absolutely insane, he was still the one person I couldn’t imagine my life without.

And yeah, maybe I’d never live down the fact that he’d barged into my meeting demanding kisses, but honestly?

Right now, I didn’t really mind all that much.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

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@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo @hiireadstuff

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[violetisconfused]

Part 2 of ArcherPrince/TelePollo incorrect quotes

Telemachus: Well, Apollo and I finally did it!

Odysseus, Penelope, and Athena: *gasps, shocked expressions, etc.*

Telemachus: That's right... We kissed!

Telemachus: What’s your body count?

Apollo: Do you mean sex or murder?

Telemachus: Two brooooos!

Apollo: Chillin' in a hot tub!

Telemachus: Five feet apart 'cause we're not gay!

Apollo:

Telemachus:

Apollo: *tearing up*

Telemachus: Babe, c'mon...

Apollo: AND HERE YOU REALLY HAD ME THINKING WE HAD SOMETHING.

Telemachus: Babe...

Telemachus: You have to apologize to them Apollo.

Apollo: Fine! But I must warn you that this might make me a better, nicer person and that is NOT the person you fell in love with!

Telemachus: I want you back...

Apollo: 3 words, 8 letters. Say it, and I'm yours.

Telemachus: I got food?

Apollo: ...you know me so well.

Telemachus: I want to kiss you.

Apollo, not paying attention: What?

Telemachus: I said if you die, I wont miss you.

Apollo, with a headache: Advil me up, daddy.

Telemachus: I will short out the language centre of your brain if you say anything like that ever again.

Apollo: You look good in that hoodie.

Telemachus: You know where else I'd look good?

Apollo, zero hesitation: My bed.

Telemachus, at the same time: By your side- wait, what?

Apollo: I think I'm falling for you.

Telemachus: Then get up.

Apollo: When you said 'Magic in Bed', I wasn't expecting this...

Telemachus: *pulls out card from deck* Now, was this your card?

Apollo: Holy moly-

Telemachus: Wow, Apollo, you want to hold my hand before marriage? How awfully lewd of you.

Apollo: We literally slept together yesterday.

Telemachus: That's NOTHING compared to the lewdness of holding hands.

Kidnapper: I have your partner.

Apollo: What? I don't have a partner...

Kidnapper: Then who just called me a lowlife bitch and spit in my face?

Apollo: Oh my god, you have Telemachus.

Telemachus: Hey, wanna take a shower with me?

Apollo: I have a gun in that nightstand beside the bed. If I ever say no to that question, I want you to take it out and shoot me because I’ve obviously gone crazy.

Telemachus: *banging a pen on the table out of frustration*

Apollo: Stop that. How would YOU feel if I banged you on the table?

Telemachus: I—

Telemachus: I don’t know the correct answer to that question.

Telemachus: Being gay is a constant battle between "I wish to sit on a window bench with my lover, our legs tangling as we listen to the birds" and "Hey, let's go throw rocks at fascists" and I think that's very sexy of us.

Apollo: If the window's open and you time it right, you can do both.

Apollo: Okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time?

Telemachus: AS ENEMIES?!

Apollo:

Apollo: Telemachus is playing hard to get.

Apollo: Little do they know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.

Telemachus: Strawberry milk doesn’t taste like strawberry OR milk.

Apollo: Go the fuck to sleep Telemachus.

[raekensluver]

echoes of loss and love

description: you are haunted by memories of your relationship with fred weasley before his death. you feel like you're stuck in a loop, unable to move on when one day, george tells you fred was going to propose.

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader, platonic!george weasley x fem!reader

contains: angst, mentions of the hogwarts war, fred's canon death, survivors guilt.

song rec: all i want by kodaline- "but if you loved me, why did you leave me?"

w.c: 1.8k

an: to whoever wrote that one fic where george dyes his hair blue because he hates that whenever he looks in the mirror he sees fred- count. your. days. thx !!

the morning air was cool and damp, carrying the scent of fresh dew from the burrow. you sat on the edge of the bed, your feet touching the cold wooden floorboards, feeling the weight of the world press down on your shoulders. your eyes scanned the room, lingering on the frayed curtains and the chipped paint on the walls. the familiarity of it all brought a pang of nostalgia and a deep, unshakeable sadness. you had not slept well, as was the norm these days, plagued by dreams that felt more like echoes of a past life than mere nocturnal imaginings.

george lay sprawled across on his own bed on the other side of the room, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with each breath. his face was a portrait of peace, untouched by the burdens that you knew he bore in his waking hours. the sight of him there, so much like fred, yet so painfully different, brought a lump to your throat. you remembered the countless nights you had spent in this very room, sharing laughter and secrets with the two of them until the early hours of the morning. the twins had always been inseparable, a unit, a force of nature that could not be divided. but now, fred's side of the room remained cold and untouched aside from your movement, a stark reminder of the gaping hole left in both your heart and the fabric of the weasley family.

you stood up slowly, the floorboards creaking beneath you, and padded over to the window. outside, the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a soft, warm light on the dew-kissed garden. the leaves on the trees were tinged with gold and red, whispering of the approaching autumn. it was a beautiful scene, but the beauty felt hollow, as if the vibrancy of color was only a cruel mockery of the emptiness you felt within. you leaned against the windowsill, your eyes tracing the patterns the light made on the floor.

the guilt was a heavy, constant presence, like a shadow that never left your side. you had been there when the wall exploded, when fred's life had been so brutally extinguished. the sound of the blast still reverberated in your ears, a never-ending echo of the moment that had torn your world apart. his laughter, his warmth, his very essence had been wrenched away from you, leaving nothing but cold, empty space. you could still see the look in his eyes, the flash of surprise and pain, the way his hand had reached out for you as if he could somehow pull you into safety.

for a while, george had been cold towards you, his grief a tangible barrier that you couldn't breach. every time you looked at him, you saw the accusation in his gaze, the unspoken question of why it had been fred and not you. you understood his anger, his pain, but it didn't make the silent treatment any easier to bear. the burden of guilt grew heavier with each passing day, each missed opportunity to apologize or explain, to somehow make it right. but what could you say? there were no words to justify the cruel hand of fate that had taken fred from you both.

you decided to make some tea, hoping the warmth would soothe your soul. the kitchen was quiet, the embers of the fireplace glowing dimly. as you filled the kettle with water, the rusty pipes groaned, reminding you of the burrow's age. the weasley's had lived here for generations, and it was a place filled with love and laughter. now, it felt like a museum dedicated to a happiness that no longer existed. you placed the kettle on the stove and watched as the flame grew, the heat slowly spreading through the metal.

staring at the teapot, you waited for the water to boil. it was a simple task, one that had been done countless times before in this very kitchen. but today, it felt like a monumental effort. every second that ticked by was a reminder of the moments you had lost with fred. the teapot began to whistle, a shrill sound that pierced the silence. you jumped, startled, and hastily turned off the stove. the whistle died down, leaving only the soft hiss of the cooling water. you paused, your hand hovering over the teapot, your eyes welling up with unshed tears. fred had always liked his tea with three lumps of sugar and a dash of milk, just like his mother made it. the thought brought a bittersweet smile to your face.

the door to the kitchen creaked open, and you looked up to see george standing there, his hair a wild mess from sleep. his eyes searched yours, a silent question hanging in the air. for a moment, you felt like you were seeing fred in his place, the same look of curiosity and concern mirrored in his twin's gaze. your heart clenched, and you had to look away, focusing instead on the steaming kettle. "can't sleep?" he asked, his voice thick with the grogginess of early morning.

you nodded, your voice a whisper. "same dreams."

george's eyes softened with understanding. he padded over to the table and pulled out a chair, the legs scraping against the floor. "i know," he said, his voice barely above a murmur. "it's like he's still here, but every time i turn around, he's gone again."

you filled two cups with tea, the warmth of the porcelain comforting against your cold palms. you slid one across the table to him, and he took it with a nod of thanks. "it's just… i can't shake the feeling that i should have done more," you confessed, the words spilling out like a dam breaking. "i should have been able to save him."

george was silent for a long moment, the only sound the clinking of spoons against the sides of the cups as you both added sugar and stirred. "you can't blame yourself," he said finally, his voice gentle. "none of us could have seen that coming. it was war, and fred knew the risks."

you took a sip of your tea, the warmth spreading through you like a comforting embrace. "i know that," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "but it doesn't make it any easier."

george reached across the table and took your hand in his, his grip firm and reassuring. his thumb traced circles on the back of your hand, a silent gesture of comfort. his eyes met yours, and for the first time since the battle, you saw something other than pain and anger in them. there was a glimmer of understanding, a bridge built from shared grief. "you know," he began, his voice low and tentative, "after it happened, i kept thinking about all the times we argued, all the little things that didn't seem to matter. i wish i could take them all back, tell him how much he meant to me."

you nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks. "i do too. i wish i could tell him how much i loved him."

george took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "you know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "fred had plans for after the war."

your heart skipped a beat. plans? what could fred have planned that you didn't know about? "what do you mean?"

george's gaze fell to the table, his thumb still moving in soothing circles on your hand. "he had a ring," he said, his voice barely audible. "he was going to ask you to marry him, after the war. said he couldn't wait any longer to make it official."

a cold shock washed over you. a ring? fred had wanted to marry you? you felt your breath catch in your throat, the reality of what you had lost sinking in even deeper. "what happened to it?" you managed to ask, your voice shaking.

george's eyes searched yours, and then he got up from his chair, leaving his hand on the table. "he hid it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "he didn't want to carry it with him in case…" his voice trailed off, and you could see the pain etched on his face. he disappeared from the room, leaving you sitting there, the cup of tea cooling in your hand, the words echoing in the silence.

a few moments later, he returned, a small, worn box in his hand. he placed it on the table between you, and you could see his hand tremble as he pushed it towards you. you picked it up, your heart racing. the box was old, the leather cracked and faded, the clasp stiff with disuse. you opened it, and there, nestled in the velvet, was the ring. it was a simple band of gold, with an intricate knot design, the kind that fred had always loved. a small diamond glinted in the early morning light, winking at you like a teardrop frozen in time.

you slid the ring onto your finger, and it fit perfectly, as if it had been made just for you. it was a strange sensation, a warmth that seemed to seep into your very soul, a final gift from fred that you hadn't expected. the weight of it felt right, like a piece of him that you could hold onto forever. you looked up at george, his eyes filled with a mix of pain and hope. "he picked it out himself, " he said, his voice thick with emotion. "he wanted you to know that you were it for him."

you didn't know what to say, so you just sat there, staring at the ring, feeling the warmth of fred's love through the metal. the silence stretched between you, filled with a thousand unspoken words. the sun was now fully up, casting a soft glow through the kitchen window, painting the room in shades of gold and amber. it was a moment that felt both surreal and achingly real, a moment that you knew would be etched into your memory forever.

finally, you found your voice. "thank you," you whispered, your eyes still fixed on the ring. "for telling me. for giving me this."

george nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "you were the best thing that ever happened to him," he said, his voice cracking. "i know he'd want you to have it."

you felt a lump form in your throat, unable to find the words to express your gratitude. instead, you leaned across the table and hugged him, feeling the warmth of his embrace, the comfort of his familiar scent, so much like fred's. it was a bittersweet moment, one that brought both solace and pain.

for a while, you sat there in silence, sipping your tea, the ring feeling like a lifeline to a past you could never quite touch again. but it was a lifeline you were grateful for, a tangible piece of fred that you could hold onto. as you sat with george, you realized that while you would never be able to fill the void left by fred's absence, you had each other. two broken halves of a whole, trying to find a new way to live in a world that had changed irrevocably.

[gingernut1314]

Someone to Shadow

Gojo x GN!Reader, Shoko x GN!Reader, implied Gojo x Geto

Summary: You and Saturo have been promised to be married ever since birth. You grew up together and have only ever had each others backs. You and Saturo find your way to Jujutsu High and slowly begin to meet the other first years. One in particular catches your eye and you can't help but feel drawn to her, while Satoru can't help but be intrigued by your final classmate.

Warnings: takes place before Gojo's Past Arc, arranged marriage, talk of engagement, pet names, childhood friends

Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: Just a small idea I had in my head! First Jjk fic so it's my first time truly working with any of these characters and boy who knows how I did but I had fun writing this and I hope you enjoy!!

Taglist: @sordidmusings

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Your clan was an old one, as was the Gojo clan. Two old and powerful clans who had been allies since their fruition. Two clans that had produced powerful heirs who had been promised to each other since their birth. 

You and Satoru grew up side by side, your clan having all but given you to the Gojo clan so that their promise could be secured. You believed he enjoyed the company of someone who might possibly understand what having his power meant…or at least you never treated him how the older member of your clan or any other did. He was just another kid to you and you just another kid to him. 

Years went by and your family pulled you back home so that they might hone your skills before heading to Jujustiu High. You didn’t hear a word from Satoru and even if he had been able to send word your way, your family wouldn’t have let you see it. 

You trained and trained and trained until your body felt like it would break. All day, every day you were made to train. The only rest you got was at meal times and in the dead of the night. 

When you were finally sent off to Jujustiu High, you were ecstatic to be far away from your family, but as you had been walked to your room, your nerves grew because Satoru would be arriving soon. You hadn’t seen him in years. What if he had changed? What if you had changed into someone he disliked? 

But that night as you slowly began to unpack your things, your door had been swung open and in waltzed the boy you had foolishly been nervous to see again. 

“Honey, I’m home!” He said brightly, throwing his long arms out to the side as you rushed over and hopped into his arms. He was quick to grab a hold of you, lifting you off your feet as he placed a overly smooching kiss to your cheek you were grateful to receive. 

“Sunshine!” You beamed right back, pulling your face away so you could look over his smiling one. 

He was older, more handsome. His features were sharper and his piercing blue eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark, rounded glasses. Satoru Gojo had changed, matured, but you were very glad to find his erratically bubbly self was still intact. 

“What’s with the glasses?” You questioned, Satoru having yet to place you back on the ground. You rose a hand up to take his glasses between your fingers and pulled them down the bridge of his nose, finding his eyes in moments. Eyes that shone like a pair of light-filled gemstones.

“Hey,” He said yanking his head away as if to keep from you looking into his eyes. “They're cool. I’m cool. Makes me more mysterious.” He said, digging his fingers into your sides making you squirm in his grip. He only laughed as you hissed his name.

The two of you spent the rest of the night catching up and the next morning Satoru was right back at your side as you two went exploring the rest of the school. 

It was quiet and seemed as if you two were the only ones there…that is until you spotted her.

Another first year, it seemed since she was being walked in by your year's teacher. Jaw-length brown hair, downturned oak-colored eyes, and plump lips that held a lit cigarette between them. As you looked her over closer, you found a small birthmark at the bottom corner of her right eye. 

“You’re drooling.” Satoru purred in your ear right as your teacher waved you both over. Your heart kick-started in a painful flurry against your rips. Whipping around, you found him looking all too smug as he began making his way down the stone steps. 

“A-am not.” You flusteredly got out as you rushed after your friend, who shoved his hands into his pants pockets. 

“Are too.” He responded as if he was back to being a child. You rolled your eyes at him.

“We’re engaged. Why would I ever drool over anyone other than you?” 

“You’re right--” He gave a dramatic pout, wiping away an invisible tear from under his eye. “You’re breaking my heart. Breaking the sacred vow our parents made for us.” He gave a mock sniffle. “My life is ruined.” 

“Oh boo hoo.” You said, mocking his pout with your own. “Fuck you.” You huffed. Satoru’s smug smile only grew more so. Like some mischievous cursed spirit. 

“But you’re trying to fuck her not me.” He clutched at his school-issued top as if he was clutching his heart. “Oh gods above what did I do to deserve such treatment? I’ve been nothing but loyal to you and you haven’t touched me in years. What does she have that I don’t?” You were about to play along once more when you noticed how far down the stairs you had grown. Panic seized you around the throat. You were definitely within hearing range at this point. 

“Cut it out!” You stressed, shoving him the tiniest bit. This only sent him into a fit of cackling laughter that grew as you rushed ahead. 

Shoko Ieiri was her name. She was a reverse curse user and you couldn’t help but be utterly captivated by her calm and collected demeanor. And maybe you were being a bit delusional, but she seemed just as interested in you. 

As you all walked through the campus, showing her important places and such, you would catch her watching you here and there. When you did catch her, she would hold your gaze until you looked away.

You had to remind yourself you were engaged to Gojo, no matter how much you two joked about it. You two had talked much about this promise, one neither of you had made and you both agreed you would fight because it was unfair in both your eyes. There were millions of people in the world and what if your person was out there? Your true person? It was a thought you both thought of a great deal. 

But one day, he had stopped in the middle of a busy sidewalk in the city to take your hand in his and tell you, in a serious tone you had only ever heard a handful of times before, that he was okay with marrying you. That if he was forced to marry anyone, he was more then glad to have it be his best friend. He hadn’t let you respond before dragging you back through the city.

Two days later, as you two sat by the edge of the stream behind his home, you had told him you felt the same. That you were okay with marrying him because he was your best friend. 

And you had thought that way until now. Had been content with it till now. But now--now you weren’t so sure. 

Though…you had never truly met another person your age outside of family members and Gojo, so maybe you were just fawning over the first person you met who slightly peaked your interest.

So, to try and determined if what you were feeling was true, you followed Shoko around. She didn’t seem to mind. She seemed so at ease with you by her side, even going as far as calling you her shadow…though maybe you were being teased. Regardless you kept at it.

Shoko let you sit in her room as she unpacked and you two talked and talked until everything had been put away. It was so easy to talk to her. So easy and so enjoyable and you only felt your heart beat more and more for her. 

When she had finished unpacking, you had made to head back to your room but she had asked if you wanted to stay a bit longer. Maybe have a cigarette and drink some of the sake she had snuck here.

And you had maybe been too eager to agree, but she hadn’t seemed to mind.

Once you two had drunk your fill and sleep started to weigh heavy over your shoulders, she followed you to the door.

“Hey, shadow.” She called to you as you made it half way down the hall. You were quick to turn back, finding her oak colored eyes scanning you over as the corner of her lips tugged upward. “I like you.” You felt your heart begin to beat wildly in your chest again. 

“Uh--Like--like me as a friend? Yeah me--” Before you had been able to complete your thought, she chuckled. 

“No, cutie.” No? No, cutie. No, not as a friend but as--something more? Your heart was going to beat out of your damn chest. It felt like you were going to have a heart attack right then and there and a swarm of butterflies would fly out of your mouth. “I like you. You’re fun. I think we could get along well. We’ll see where it goes, yeah?” You shallowed the dryness building in your mouth. 

“Yeah--” You cleared your throat, trying to summon up your confidence which had been failing you ever since you first laid eyes on her. “Yeah. I’d like that. A lot.” Her lips only pulled higher.

“Good. I’ll see you in the morning, shadow.” 

Satoru had found you the next morning grinning like a fool as you waited for him to exist his room. 

“She likes me. She like likes me.” You said, grabbing hold of his arm as you two began to head outside. 

“Wait, wait--like--like like like?” You nodded proudly. 

“Like Like. Yep.” You said, popping the ‘p’. 

“And she told you this? When? Why?” You only grinned wider as you told him about the night before. How you had even clarified what she had ment. He smirked down at you, giving you a little nudge.

“Shit. Good for you.” You thought maybe he looked a little--disappointed? But it was hard to tell with those damn glasses covering his eyes. 

“Are you mad?” You asked, your grip tightening around his arm. 

“Why would I be mad?” 

“Because--you know. We’re en--” Satoru pressed a finger against your lips and gave you a long, overly loud shush. You tried to swat his hand away but he was quick to lightly shove your head backwards, an oof spilling from your lungs.

“You know I don’t give a crap about that. My clan can eat shit for all I care.” You said nothing as you watched him speak, because if you were seriously considering going along with your growing feelings for Shoko, then this conversation needed to happen. “I thought we agreed that if we find someone special, we would go for it? And if not then we’re both fine to go along with this engagement.” You nodded.

“I want us both to find someone special. Otherwise, I don’t think I can be truly happy. You’re my best friend.” Satoru shrugged.

“I’ll be fine. You know I’ll be fine. I have ladies all over the globe that would be more then happy to spend some one-on-one time with me.” You rolled your eyes at him only for him to flick you in the nose. 

“Asshole.” 

You two met up with Shoko who was waiting just outside for you, a lit cigarette between her pink-tinted lips, which turned upward upon spotting you. You gave Satoru’s arm a tight squeeze before bouncing over to Shoko, who grabbed hold of your hand before you even had half a mind to do the same. 

“So, what do we know about the last guy in our year?” Shoko asked in that even tone of hers, a puff of smoke falling from her lips as she spoke. 

“I think he’s from the city. His name is uh--Geto. Suguru Geto.” You said, pulling a hum from Shoko who brush her thumb over the top of your hand, making your stomach flip flop all over again.

“All I know is he isn’t nearly as sexy as yours tru--” You three made it to the top of the stone steps and found your teacher had already climbed halfway up them. Just behind him walked a strikingly handsome man. Gauges just a little bigger then the tip of your thumb stretched his earlobes and a single strain of raven black hair hung over his forhead, the rest having been pulled up into a messy bun.

And his purple eyes were trained directly onto Gojo, who had gone uncharacteristic quiet beside you. 

You looked up at him and found his lips pulled closed, his blue eyes staring right back at the newcomer from behind his glasses. 

“You’re drooling.” You purred up to him, making your friend blink rapidly. He pulled his hands from out of his pockets and flicked your nose once more. You huffed, rubbing the small hurt away.

“He wishes.” He said in that egotistical way of his. Your smirked only grew as you watched him saunter down the steps to greet Geto head on. 

“I think Gojo’s found himself someone to shadow.” Shoko murmured to you, her oak eyes shining back at you. No one had ever looked at you like that before. No one, not even Gojo. It was a look that stole you breath and made you want to pull ever closer to her. 

Shoko lifted her free hand to brush her thumb over your nose, a warmth spreading through the sore as she used her ability on it. Such a useless thing to use her energy on but you didn’t complain, you only savored the feel of her skin on yours. 

“Hum? What do you think, shadow?” You grabbed for her wrist gently, rubbing your thumb against the soft skin there just as she had your hand. You watched as the lightest of pinks dusted over her cheeks.

“I think so too.” You smiled, looking over her face, wanting to memorize every detail as if you would never look at it again, before turning to watch Gojo interact enthusiastically with Geto who smiled warmly back at him.

[tobylix-blog]

LotR Week (6/7): Songs and tales - Aragorn x Reader

Content & Warnings: fluff, mention of alcohol Word count: 0.5k Summary: During the celebration in Edoras you find enough courage to sing in front of the strangers. But some familiar eyes watch you too A/N: couldn't bring myself to put poor poetry in our king's mouth, so this is for reader to bear with. Penultimate submission for @lotrweek

The wind had once caught a banner, And carried it on ever since In cheerful, careless manner Over the mountains and seas.

It waved it all over the cities And forests - those bursting with life. Over blue lakes and white lilies, Brighter than mithril dwarves mine.

The wind had blown on through summers And never had tried to stop. But one day it suddenly faltered, And banner threatened to drop

For beautiful lady watched it From weathered and sheer cliffs. Her dress was of highest merit And so was the shawl she knit.

The wind crawled closer and bargained, “Give me your shawl. In return, I will chase off the clouds And let all your fires burn.”

The lady refused and asked for A single thing in exchange. “Please, give me back the banner From days of the passing age.

This banner I still remember – My love has ridden with it On day that I will forever Have written across my lips.”

The tight circle around you exploded in cheers and clapping. The smell of ale wafted over you as the foam splashed from the mugs. Unfamiliar hands patted your back with encouragement and approval. Someone toasted to your name and your song and more voices joined in. You smiled uncertainly and slowly made way through the crowd to the further end of the table, where it seemed calmer.

A few feet of distance didn’t make much difference in volume, but you found yourself breathing easier while not being surrounded by a living wall of bodies. In fact, it was rather nice to get away and watch the celebration from the sidelines. You looked around the room, noticing familiar faces here and there, but your eyes couldn’t catch a glimpse of the one that mattered the most. Not until a hand covered yours resting on the table and a mixture of smells filled your lungs. Leather and tobacco, and, which surprised you the most, foliage. Even here in Edoras, where everything was but coarse grass and horses, and occasional drink, he still smelled like he just walked out of a forest. You asked him about it a few times, though he simply shrugged it off as a consequence of living in Rivendell for too long.

Aragorn’s voice was low, but with his lips pressed against your ear there was no chance of missing his words. “It was a sight to behold. I thought there was a sun shining in the middle of the night, and a merry rain accompanied it. I must admit it’s a shame that your voice has never rung through the Hall of Fire, that would bring joy to many.”

“You flatter me. Elves have unnumbered songs and tales much more beautiful than this one.”

“But none of them is yours,” he whispered again and added softly, “meleth.”

The last part made you give up the dispute, it always did. And Aragorn, as if in gratitude for your compliance, embraced you. You felt several gentle kisses tracing the side of your face before he pulled you back and down until you were conveniently seated on his lap. His breath tickled your neck as he spoke, "Now, tell me. What is the tale behind your wonderful song?"

[districtsof-treason]

day 599 of searching for a gif of just Eddie walking back to the table from this scene

it awakened something in me and has become my religion