#back to making fun of him all is right in the world

[logaenhowlett]

THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD IN HER HANDS - L.H.

Summary: After months of watching you relentlessly try to gain control of your powers, Logan finally takes matters into his own hands.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff - so much damn fluff, Slight angst, Language

A/N: Suffering from writer's block on a plot-driven angsty Logan fic so I wrote this to focus on something else. Shout out to End by Frank Ocean. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

“You’ve been going at it for hours.”

His voice makes you pause, shifting your concentration to the man leaning against the door frame. Logan watches as you swing your head down, possibly frustrated by his interruption.

“Professor said I’d get better at this,” You swipe the sweat off your face, grabbing your drenched shirt as it clings to your skin, “It’s been months and I'm nowhere near strong enough.”

He huffs in amusement, he would often catch you in moments like these, tiring yourself hour after hour till you were exhausted enough to finally pass out. It reminds him of his early days at this place. Young and eager to prove himself to everyone here, that he was capable of being good once again.

“Old man doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about.” A measly attempt to shut down your self-deprecation, he knows nothing will convince you otherwise, that much he learned over the last few times he tried reasoning with you. When you shoot him a questioning glance, he relents, raising his hands up in defense. “Alright. But you’re not doing any good wearing yourself to the bone.”

“I just want to be like Storm and Scott and you.” 

“Well, if that’s the case, the bar ain’t that high.” A teasing grin shining as he approaches you, the annoyed expression on your face does little to stop him. “Come with me.”

“What?”

He chuckles at your confusion, wandering dangerously close into your personal space. “I wanna show you something,” He murmurs.

Flirting isn’t a new concept to him at all. Though you never get used to his attempts, always brushing it off with the assumption that it’s just a game.

“Logan - I need to keep practicing.” You take a few steps back, creating a little distance from his very distracting presence. “It’s the only way I’ll get better at controlling this.”

“Okay.” He drags out, “You can still keep doing this when we come back.”

As you contemplate his request, he knows he has you convinced, a grin tugging on his lips. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

When he leads you to the mansion's garage, you recall all the times he'd whisked you away from moments of misery and fatigue. He seemed to have this innate ability to know when you're in over your head, too absorbed into whatever you were doing to take a step back and relax. A tinge of embarrassment creeps into your thoughts, feeling bad for him to constantly keep checking in as if you were incapable of knowing your limits. Fuck, I'm a mess. You snap yourself from going down the negative route, shifting your focus to Logan, a chuckle escapes you.

“You know he hates it when you steal his bike, right?”

He swings a leg over, revving the engine. The sound seems to unintentionally comfort you, your mind having subconsciously associated it with him. Despite Scott being the owner of vehicle, he rarely saw it since it was Logan’s choice of transportation. Fucking dickhead, he used to curse up and down, unwillingly giving up after Charles reasoned with him one too many times. You remember the entire ordeal, having to intervene during one of their many childish fights when Scott attempted to blow up Logan’s ass.

“I’ll fill up the tank.”

“No, you won’t.” A short laugh leaves you as you wrap your arms around him.

He flashes a smile, tilting his head back to ensure you’re properly seated. “No, I won’t.”

You hardly pay attention to his driving, instead mindlessly watching the scenery zip past. It wasn't the first time Logan had taken you on a ride. In fact, after the initial fear, you had grown fond of this time you got share with him. A quiet and peaceful journey where you could turn your restless mind off and simply enjoy each other's company. An unspoken vow of trust had always lingered between you two, which was something he cherished more than he could ever express. He smiles softly at the weight of you resting on his back as the breeze encompasses around you.

“How’d you even find this place?” You ask, sliding off the seat as he kicks the stand.

“Used it for shelter during that snowstorm a while ago. The bike gave out on me.”

You hum in response, spinning on your feet to look around. It's an abandoned gas station that had definitely seen better days. Despite all the damage and vandalisation, it was an oddly interesting location, a lake nearby overlooking lush fields. Nothing in Logan's expression gives away his intention of bringing you here. He slowly steps backwards, a hint of a smirk tugging his lips and when he's a decent distance away, “Hit me.”

“What?”

“Use your power, sweetheart. Don’t be scared, you can do it.” It's rather encouraging and not at all akin to his usual cocky tone.

“Logan - what, no!” You exclaim, finding his proposal ridiculous. “I’m not - I can’t even fully control it. What if I hurt you?”

He scoffs, amused you could even suggest such a thing, “Well, you’re gonna have to control it, aren’t ya?” When you make no attempt to try, his gaze softens, “I can take it.”

You take a deep breath, channelling your focus to create a ball of energy between your hands. Despite being small, it hits him with enough force to push him back a few steps. A groan leaves him as he clutches his stomach, you shift to run towards him but he lifts his hand, making you stop.

“Again. Don’t hold back.”

This time you think of Charles, remembering all the lessons and training sessions you've had with him. Where you had always doubted yourself, he had constantly reassured you and your ability to control your gift. The ball of energy grows more between your hands, crackling with intensity. Using all your might, you aim at Logan once again, hitting him square in the chest, thrusting him back several feet, the impact denting the ground in the process. He stands up feeling a bit lightheaded, though that sensation disappears as he flexes his muscles, grateful for his healing factor.

“I did it!” You laugh in surprise, running to him.

His arms immediately wrap around you, slightly lifting you off the ground. “You did it,” He says with a faint smile, taking in your satisfaction.

Caught up in moment of finally making progress, you notice the lack of space between Logan and you. And suddenly, his hands on your waist, his tender expression, it all becomes too much, making you pull back. “You’re insane. That could’ve gone so wrong,” You spit out, trying to relieve some tension.

“I trust you.” He whispers, softly.

Your body seems to be on fire, everything about this begins to overwhelm your senses. With a shaky breath, you try stepping away from his gentle grip.

“Why do you always run from me?” His words still your movements. His eyes can't seem to find yours, instead settling on the charred ground beneath him, "I know… you feel this too.”

“I’m - I don’t…”

“Let me in, sweetheart. I won’t run away.” He approaches you, giving you the space to reject his advances. ”I promise.”

When you don't respond, he hangs his head low, accepting your decision. “Let’s go home,” He mumbles.

As you walk down the hallway to your room, you can't seem to shake the urge to run back to him. You take a moment, hand grasping your doorknob before you spin around. Within seconds of knocking on his door, he swings it open catching your distinct heartbeat on the other side.

“Logan - I just…” The words die on your tongue. Every little feeling you'd held for him comes rushing forward. As he stands there, growing concerned for your wellbeing, all you can think about is kissing him till the air leaves your lungs.

“You okay?”

That's enough for you to slam into him. You grab the collar of his white shirt, pulling him down. Your lips find his own, slowly moving against the soft flesh. It takes him less than a second to comprehend what's happening before he reciprocates your actions.

You tilt your head back, inhaling his comforting scent. He continues peppering kisses on your face, unable to stop once he finally got a taste. “I'm sorry, I was scared. I am scared,” You whisper.

“I know. But I’m here for you. I’m always gonna be here for you.” He murmurs against your lips, “If you let me.”

Your smile sends flutters to his heart. His low chuckle echoes within you as he leans down, capturing your lips with a hunger he'd suppressed for as long as he could remember. When your moan teases his senses, he lifts you with ease, one arm securing your waist and the other gently stroking the underside of your thigh. He lowers you down onto the bed, noting your exhaustion from earlier. Sliding right next to you, he presses a light kiss on your temple, pulling you into his warm embrace. A silent promise that he'll never let you go.

[sungstars]

fall off. | pjs x fem!reader

i.e your boyfriend is so shy and you have so much fun making him flustered!

content warning: smut! (18+ only, mdni!!), oral (f. rec), fingering (f. rec), implied dom!sung sorta… established relationship!

word count: 1.6k (not proof read sawri)

author's note: this is entirely based off of that tiktok sound that goes "come here bae come sit next to me come and take ur draws off damn u on the edge of the bed u about to fall off!" i had sososos much fun writing this :3 i love freaky shy jisung! likes & reblogs are very appreciated and i hope u guys enjoy reading this!! also i finished this before the hurricane hits because i have nothing better to do for the next few hours LOL... will try to get some more stuff out over the next few days!

"come sit next to me," you patted the empty space on your bed as you looked across at your boyfriend, jisung, "why are you so nervous?"

jisung was gripping his jeans so hard his knuckles were turning white and ears flushed fiery red, "oh. i'm okay right here. thanks."

his words were coming out very strained and jisung couldn't even bring himself to look at you, "it's really warm in here."

"you are wearing jeans and a hoodie, as well as a long sleeve shirt underneath it," you replied, leaning back against your pillows and extending your legs out, "you could take them off."

jisung's voice got caught in his throat, face turning beet red, "all of it?"

you giggled, poking his side gently with your foot, "sure. make sure you take your underwear off too."

it took everything in you to not bust into laughter at your boyfriend, and it took everything in jisung to try not to implode from embarrassment.

jisung was by no means a virgin, he had a plethora of sex before the two of you started dating. there was just something about you that made him so nervous to be intimate with you.

you had your fair share of make out sessions, always ending up with you in his lap and sucking dark hickeys into his neck, but anytime the two of you tried to do more, he just froze up and couldn't.

of course you never made him feel bad about it. you found it endearing and cute how nervous he was. even when jisung mentioned that he never had this issue before, you didn't get upset. you were so understanding.

"jisung," you sat up on your elbows, "come back to me. you started wondering off in your little world again."

he muttered out a quick sorry, starting to fan his face gently to calm down this heat in his face. you watched him in adoration, smiling because he was just too cute when he was flustered.

however, your head tilted in concern when you saw how far off the bed he was, "sung, you're about to fall off of the bed."

"oh. didn't even notice." he scratched the back of his head, adjusting his positioning on the bed, leaning against the wall, "sorry."

the two of you fell into a silence, comfortable for you, but awkward for jisung. you stretched your legs out to lay across his lap as you rested against the pillows again and closing your eyes.

jisung didn't know what to do or say. he's been in your room before, so he's not sure why he feels so. . . hot. the temperature isn't too high, and he's been in physical contact with you.

he really wants to get more physical, to make you feel good and fall apart from pleasure that he knows he can inflict upon you. there was just. . . something that made him nervous about doing it. maybe he didn't want to disappoint you because unlike other people he's slept with, you are a constant presence in his life.

and also, most of the people he's slept with were drunk freshman year experiences.

he just needed to stop thinking about the what ifs. jisung needed to stop thinking in general, he just needed to do it. he was more than capable of doing these things to you.

"stop thinking." he told himself as he looked at your legs across his lap, drumming his fingers against them, "just do it."

"fuck it, we ball." he squeezed his eyes shut before adjusting himself to stand on his knees, pushing your legs gently to stand between them.

your eyes fluttered open, looking up at your boyfriend who had an unreadable expression on his face, "everything okay, ji?"

jisung nodded, his hands coming up to unzip his hoodie before shrugging it off and tossing it behind him, "y-yeah."

you smiled up at him, gazing at his defined arms before finding his eyes again, "you look handsome."

his cheeks turned a rosy pink which caused him to mentally curse because he just got that hue to leave his face, "you look pretty. you always do."

"what's on your mind?"

with a strong exhale through his nose, jisung pushed all of these nervous thoughts that returned down and pressed his lips against yours.

a surprised noise escaped you, but you brought your arms to wrap around his neck and kissing him back. one of his hands brought your leg to his hip, pressing his growing erection into you and causing you to part your lips slightly.

jisung took his opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth and you gently tugged on the nape of his hair. a moan escaped the man above you, causing you to pull on it again to get another noise out of him.

his hands began to wonder between the two of you, starting to travel underneath the material of your camisole, fingers dancing lightly against the expanse of your stomach.

the boy pulled away from you slightly, his lips slightly swollen and eyes full of desire, "can i. . .can i touch you, y/n?"

"of course you can, ji." you said softly, hands rubbing up and down his chest, "you can do whatever you want."

he gently pushed your shirt up until it reached your collarbones, breath hitching when he saw that you weren't wearing a bra.

you watched him for a moment, wondering if he would touch you or get flustered and pull your shirt back down over your tits.

instead, he caught you by surprise and leaned down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth while rolling the other one around between his fingers.

a noise of pleasure escaped you, bringing your hands up to his hair to pull on it once more.

jisung switched between your tits constantly, making sure to show them an equal amount of attention before removing them from his mouth and continuing to kiss down your stomach.

the cold air coming into contact with your now hard nipples caused you to whimper, jisung looking up at you with concern.

"are you okay? should i stop?" he asked, pulling himself up to check on you, which you quickly stopped by pushing his head back down.

"i'm fine, perfect actually," you flashed a reassuring smile at him, "continue, please."

he nodded, beginning to kiss your stomach once more, his hands moving their way up to your shorts.

jisung gently dipped his fingers into your waistband, slowly starting to pull them down to your hips.

his lips followed behind, kissing over the hibiscus tattoo that began to fade after years without a touch up, grazing his teeth over the skin lightly.

“no panties?” he murmured against your skin, biting down harshly, “hah. . . it’s like you planned this.”

you smiled mischeviously at the boy between your thighs, threading your hand through his hair, "wishful thinking."

"don't think," he said in between kisses, pulling your shorts down your thighs and over your ankles, tossing them behind him, "just focus on me."

jisung grabbed one of your legs, adjusting himself before placing your knee over his shoulder and attaching his lips to your inner thighs.

you felt your heartrate pick up, nervous at what was to come next. you talked a big game because you didn't actually think anything would come from teasing jisung.

his lips traveled closer to your core, but instead focused on sucking light marks into your skin. jisung wanted to see how desperate you could get for him, even though he wanted nothing more but to taste.

"ji," you whined out, tugging on his hair harshly, "don't be a fuckin' tease. you were just acting like a virgin who's never even touched a girl before."

annoyance crept up on jisung, rolling his eyes in disbelief. there was no way he was gonna let you talk to him like that when you both know he is far from a virgin.

"talking a lot for somebody who wants to be touched," he muttered back, using two of his fingers to spread your lips open and admiring how glistening your cunt was, "she's practically drooling for him."

your face flushed at how vulgar he was, but oh you were eating it up on the inside. this is exactly what you wanted, jisung to snap and show you how nasty he was under that shy boy exterior, "then do something about it."

jisung ignored your comment, blowing air on you cunt to make you shut up. he was going to get you to beg, no matter how long it took or how much he desired to lick you clean, "ask nicely."

"i'm not asking for shit," you spat, faux irritation escaping you, "we both know you wanna eat it anyway."

you got him there, he couldn't lie. however, he knew what game you were playing, and he decided to give in, "you're right."

a victorious look on your face quickly contorted to one of pleasure when jisung wrapped his plush lips around your clit.

a high pitched whine left your lips when his teeth gently grazed your bundle of nerves before letting his tongue lick down your slit.

your grip in his hair tightened when you felt his tongue move skillfully as he teased your hole with one of his fingers. the one wrapped around your thigh began digging crescents into your skin, the boy between your legs moaning into your cunt.

"fuck ji," you breathed out when his finger slid into you, gently pumping in and out, "fuck it feels so good."

the boy pulled away for a moment, looking up at you with your juices glossing his lips and dripping down his chin, "good because i don't plan on stopping anytime soon."

END

pt. 2 ???

[itneverendshere]

you and your sister going out to the store, and milo’s so wiggly in the cart and you over hear your sister tell him “go hang with uncle rafe” and he zooms to rafe and it’s so cute to see

thank you for the request!!! 🫶🏻🫂 it's so cute watching them all grow up/old together it kills me

i'd give up everything - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

It’s almost golden hour, and the parking lot of the grocery store is lit in that perfect, warm light that makes everything look prettier than it is. You’re pushing the cart while Monica’s next to you, holding onto Milo’s hand as he bounces with energy he clearly stole from the depths of kid’s chaos. It’s like he never stops.

You can’t remember the last time this kid sat still.

“Why did we even bring him?” You laugh, watching as Milo keeps trying to wriggle out of her grasp. "It's like he's allergic to being still."

Monica sighs, throwing you a half-hearted grin. “I know, right? Kid’s got more energy than I did in college.”

Milo makes a break for it, slipping out of her hold and darting towards the cart. He’s got this wild grin on his face like it’s the most fun game in the world. And to be fair, it kinda is. His growing legs are sprinting towards the cart before Monica can even react.

“Come on, Milo!” she calls after him, rolling her eyes but not too mad about it. She’s used to this routine by now.

You scoop him up, plopping him back into the shopping cart with a laugh, wheezing in the process because wow he’s grown now. “I got him,” You say, but he’s already jumping, trying to climb out like some mini escape artist. His hands grip the edge, feet kicking out as he tries to launch himself toward freedom.

“You know who’s better at wrangling this kid?” Monica says with a smirk, like she’s got the perfect plan up her sleeve.

“Don’t say it,” You warn, knowing exactly where this is going.

“Go hang with Uncle Rafe,” she sing-songs, like it’s the solution to every kid problem in the world.

And, of course, the second the words leave her mouth, Milo’s entire face lights up. He lets out this high-pitched squeal, the kind that only a soon to be six-year-old can make without bursting their vocal cords, and he’s off. He shimmies out of the cart like a squirrel, landing on the pavement with all the grace of a tiny athlete.

“Milo, wait!” You laugh, but honestly, you don’t even try to stop him. The kid’s determined, and you all know where he’s headed.

Rafe’s leaning against the hood of his truck, looking way too cool for a grocery store run. He’s on his phone, completely oblivious to the tornado zooming his way.

Milo barrels into his legs with full toddler force, grabbing onto his jeans like his life depends on it. “Unca Rafe!” he shouts, voice so full of excitement it makes your heart flip. 

Rafe looks down, caught off guard, but then his face softens into this smile that’s...it’s so unfair how cute he is. How does he manage to go from looking like the most intimidating guy in the world to this softie in two seconds flat? It’s criminal, really.

“Well, hey, little man,” He says, tucking his phone into his pocket and crouching down to Milo’s level. “What’s up? You causin' trouble already?”

Milo giggles, throwing his arms around Rafe’s neck in the clumsiest, cutest hug. Rafe lifts him up with ease, like he weights nothing, holding him against his chest like he’s done it a thousand times before — which, honestly, he kinda has. 

You lean against the cart, watching the whole scene unfold, and you can’t help but smile. It’s such a simple thing, but the way Rafe is with Milo always gets you. Like, he’s got this side to him that not a lot of people see, this soft, caring, protective side that only comes out when he’s with the people he loves. And watching him with your nephew? Yeah, it makes you feel things. Big, mushy, embarrassing things.

“He’s obsessed with you, you know,” You say as you walk up to them, folding your arms over your chest and raising an eyebrow.

Your boyfriend gives you this cocky grin, holding Milo with one arm like it’s nothing. “Can you blame him?” he teases, winking. “He’s just like his auntie.”

Even though you roll your eyes at his teasing, there’s no denying that he’s right. Milo is kind of like you—especially in the way he seems totally infatuated with Rafe.

You can’t blame him.

“I don’t know who you think you’re flattering right now,” you reply, smirking as you grab a few of the grocery bags from the cart. “But fine, I’ll give you that. Kid’s got good taste.”

Rafe chuckles, the sound low and warm, while Milo tugs at the collar of his t-shirt, trying to get his attention again. “Unca Rafe, can I go in the truck?” Milo asks, bouncing with the same boundless energy that’s been following him all day. You really miss the days he called him Rafey.

He raises an eyebrow, glancing at you for approval like the responsible uncle he pretends to be sometimes. “What do you think? You wanna let him play around inside?”

You shrug, already giving in because, let’s be real, there’s no stopping Milo when he’s this excited. “As long as he doesn’t drive off, I’m good.”

“No promises, baby."

Before you can say anything, Rafe’s already tossing Milo into the air, earning a high-pitched squeal that echoes through the parking lot. You can’t help but watch, feeling that familiar tug of affection as he catches him effortlessly, setting him down in the open passenger door of his truck.

Milo immediately starts pressing all the buttons, making the truck beep and flash like he’s setting off a mini-light show, but Rafe doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. He’s leaning back against the side of the truck, crossing his arms as he watches Milo with the prettiest smile on his face. 

Monica finishes loading the last of the bags into her car, and she glances over at the scene unfolding in front of you with a smirk. “He’s a natural, huh?” she says quietly, nudging you with her elbow. 

You try to play it cool, even though your heart’s swelling in your chest. “Yeah, he’s alright,” you joke, but the truth is written all over your face. You’re totally, hopelessly in love with the guy standing there, pretending not to care that Milo’s probably activating every feature his truck has to offer.

Your sister gives you a knowing look, like she can see straight through your attempt to be nonchalant. “Milo’s lucky. He’s got you both wrapped around his little finger.”

You laugh because, yeah, that’s probably true. Milo’s got this charm that no one in your family can resist, and Rafe’s just as guilty of it as you are.

As if on cue, Milo pops his head out of the truck window, eyes wide with excitement. “Unca Rafe, can I honk the horn?”

Rafe shoots you a glance, “Should I let him?”

You sigh dramatically, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “Go ahead. Just don’t blame me if he thinks he can do this every time.”

Rafe laughs, reaching over to ruffle Milo’s hair. “Alright, little man. One honk. Make it count.”

Milo slams his tiny hand down on the horn, the loud sound blaring across the parking lot, and you wince even though you knew it was coming. Rafe’s laughing, Milo’s giggling like he’s just pulled off the prank of the century, and you—well, you’re just standing there, taking it all in, wondering how you got so lucky.

It’s moments like this that make you realize how different things are now. Two and a half years ago, if someone had told you that Rafe Cameron—golden boy, Kook prince, with a reputation for being that guy—would be standing here, playing the perfect role of doting uncle to your nephew, you probably would’ve laughed in their face.

But here he is. 

And here you are, watching the two most important boys in your life bond over something as simple as honking a horn. Rafe catches your eye again, his grin softening as Milo scrambles back into the truck, happily babbling to himself about how loud it was.

“Think he’s ready to drive it for real?” Rafe jokes, stepping closer to you.

“Absolutely not,” you laugh, shaking your head. “But thanks for getting him all wound up right before we’re supposed to head home.”

Rafe shrugs, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “What can I say? He’s fun to mess with.”

You roll your eyes but lean into him, enjoying the warmth of his touch. “Yeah, well, you’re the one who’s gonna have to deal with him next time he demands a honk.”

Rafe chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you both watch Milo crawl back over to the driver’s seat, completely mesmerized by the truck’s dashboard, “You know I love it.”

You glance up at him, and for a second, you feel this overwhelming sense of gratitude—like you’ve somehow stumbled into the best version of your life without even realizing it. This is the guy who has seen you at your worst, dealt with your stubborn streak, and still chooses to stick around. And not just stick around—he’s fully here, present, loving your nephew like he’s been part of your family all along.

You can’t believe he only left rehab a month ago. 

“Okay, but seriously,” Monica says, glancing between you and Rafe, “How am I ever going to survive without seeing you being in love every day? It’s sickening.”

You can’t help but snort, nudging Rafe with your shoulder. “Sickening, huh?”

“Pleases,” she rolls her eyes but is smiling. “I can’t believe you’re moving together.”

“Moving in?” Milo suddenly chimes in, his head popping out of the truck window like a jack-in-the-box. “Are you gonna live with Uncle Rafe forever?”

You share a look with Rafe, and he raises his brows in mock surprise. “What? You don’t wanna share her?”

Milo’s eyes widen, contemplating this monumental decision as if it were the biggest thing he’s ever had to think about. “Will I get to come visit?”

“Every day if you want,” Rafe assures him, still grinning as he crouches to Milo’s level again. “You can help us cook and make all the noise you want. We’ll even have a trampoline in the backyard. Sound good?”

Milo claps his hands, clearly sold on the idea. “Yes! And can we have pizza every Friday?”

You chuckle, glancing at Rafe. “I think we can manage that.”

[lulunothulu]

“I've missed you”

Glen Powell x Reader

Summary: Glen is working overseas and misses you.

Content: pure fluff, talks of sex

You’d just gotten home when your phone’s FaceTime ringtone begins to chime. You pull it out of your purse and smile when you see Glen’s face pop up.

“Hi, baby,” you greet when you answer, smiling so wide you feel your cheeks hurting.

“Well hello beautiful,” Glen smiles. Scruff apparent on his face and Texas Longhorns hat on his head.

God, you missed his smile.

He’d been filming something “top secret” for the past few months and you were ready for him to come home.

“How was work today?” you ask, shutting your front door and sliding your purse off your shoulder. 

“Same old same old,” he drawls, propping his phone on something in front of him. “How was your day?”

“Kind of the same,” you tell him, sighing when you finally take a seat on the white couch Glen has in his living room. “Nothing fun ever happens.”

“Baby, you work at one of the top hospitals in the world,” he points out with a chuckle. “How can what you deal with be the same as other days?”

“Yeah, you’re right. I just didn’t want to make you feel bad for being so far away and not being able to have as much fun as I am.”

Glen laughs, making your heart ache and face crumple in grief. 

“Baby?”

“I’m sorry,” you tearfully say. “I just–” You take a deep breath before wiping your eyes and smiling sadly. “I just miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he tells you. His green eyes turn soft, worry and something else lacing his next words. “What can I do for you right now?”

You sniffle. “Just, distract me? I don’t know.”

Glen sighs, rubbing his temples while he thinks before looking back at the camera and smiling widely. 

“What?” you ask.

“What’re you wearing under all of that?” he asks, smirking to himself.

“What?” you laugh this time, disbelief rattling through your body.

“You heard me, sweetheart.” He leans forward, smirk still on his lips. “What’re you wearing under your clothes?”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, pulsing begins to start between your legs and you squeeze your legs shut to get it to stop.

“I have that lacy bra you got me last Christmas–”

“I love that one.”

“And the matching thong,” you finish.

Glen groans, his eyes rolling–obviously thinking about what you look like in them. “I can’t wait to come home.”

 “Now your turn, sir.” You watch as Glen’s brows raise slightly before he leans back in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’m wearing a the same thing,” he jokes, earning him a laugh.

He watches you a for a second, memorizing your sweet face and smile. He didn't want to admit it, but he missed you so much more. not even for the sex, but to be able to be around you, to hold you.

Tears begin to form in his eyes and you quiet down, smile still faint on your lips.

Glen swipes at his eyes before smiling sweetly at you. "I've missed you, beautiful."

"I've missed you too," you tell him. "Just a few more weeks."

"Actually, it'll be less than that." He smiles when your eyes go wide. "We're wrapping early so I'll see you in a few days."

You have to shove the sob down your throat. Excitement and relief wash over you before you close your eyes and open them again with a smile.

He's coming home and soon.

"That's great, baby," you croak.

"I knew you'd like that," Glen smiles. "Now, back to that matching lacy set..."

Something small but ugh I love it and him.

[austinbutlerslovers]

After Hours

Label Mature 18+

One Shot

Summary Things get heated when you lay eyes on your handsome bartender for the night, fueling your need to have him tend you in more ways than one.

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 drunken banter •teasing• edging• BJ in a Bar• sex on a bar• protection• orgasm

🏆 Inspired by @austinbutlerfly @feralgodmothers @umika @aust-een 🔥

After Hours

The bar is dim, the kind of low light that makes everyone look better, but Hank doesn’t need any help with that. He stands behind the counter, muscles flexing beneath the fabric of his black tee as he pours shots with practiced ease.

His longer blonde hair peeks out from under his black cap, curling slightly at the ends in a way that suits him naturally.

His eyes, a steely blue, meet yours every so often with a quick flash of something that isn’t just professional courtesy. It’s something intentional, charged in a way that makes the air between you buzz.

Each time he hands over a drink, his strong forearms flex, veins running down his skin, making him look like the kind of man who works with his hands—hands you can’t stop imagining.

He leans in teasingly as he slides another shot your way. “Careful now,” he murmurs, his voice low, “don’t want to get too ahead of yourself, sweetheart.”

It’s not the first time he’s flirted like this, you can tell. The playful smirk, the way his eyes linger a second too long before flitting back to another customer—it’s all second nature to him.

But it works. Damn, does it work. You can feel your body reacting, heating under his gaze, your skin prickling with anticipation every time he gets near.

He leans in close, his forearm brushing yours as he places another drink on the bar, “You really ought to slow down, or I might have to carry you out of here myself,” he says, that same cocky grin on his face, eyes smoldering with barely restrained intent.

You’re tipsy now, maybe more than tipsy, but it only makes the game more fun. His flirting gets heavier, words slipping between drinks with a confidence born from knowing exactly how to read people, how to push the right buttons.

“You gonna make it a habit of coming here just to get my attention?” he quips, flashing a sly grin before turning to serve another patron, but not before his eyes find you again, like he can’t help himself.

By the time he places your last drink on the bar, his hand lingers on the glass just long enough for your fingers to brush against his again.

Flushed and drunk on more than just the liquor, you giggle and grab your phone, tapping the screen for his number. He grins typing it in like it’s the most natural thing in the world before he returns to work, his gaze lingering on you as he moves around the bar.

As the night winds down, you stumble out of the bar and into a waiting taxi, the city lights blurring into streaks as the driver takes you home. Your head spins, and it isn’t just the alcohol.

Hank—his hands, his smirk, the way he looked at you—is all you can think about. You fumble with your keys as you finally make it inside, but something tugs at your mind, like a puzzle piece missing from the night.

Your ID. Where the hell is it?

You search your bag until you swear under your breath, a laugh slipping from your lips as you realize—either you left it at the bar, or maybe, just maybe, Hank kept it.

Without even thinking, you dial his number. It rings, once, twice, before Hank picks up, his voice smooth through the phone.

“Did you miss me already?” he teases, his tone making you grin feeling a rush of heat though your body.

“I think you have my ID,” you reply, the heavy alcohol in your system making your tone playful.

“Oh, I have it,” Hank says, dragging the sentence out like he’s savoring each word. “You’re gonna have to come get it though.”

Something about the way he says it, that low rasp in his voice, makes heat pool in your stomach. You bite your lip, barely hesitating before grabbing your things and heading out again.

The ride back to the bar feels like a blur, the city lights swirling in front of your eyes as you try to keep your excitement—and your balance—in check.

When you arrive back, the bar is dark and looks completely empty. All the shutters are drawn closed, but the windows glow faintly, illuminated by the remnants of the advertisement lights inside and as you pull the handle you realize the doors are completely unlocked.

When you push inside, the familiar smell of whiskey and polished wood hits you as you stumble forward, and your heart races feeling the thrill of the moment mixing with the alcohol swirling in your system.

Hank is already there, waiting for you behind the bar his tall frame leaned casually over the counter, a cocky smirk tugging at his lips. Between his fingers, he twirls your ID like a prize, holding it for you to see before gesturing you to come closer.

“You came all the way back for this tonight?” he asks, his voice teasing, his eyes glinting under the dim light.

You’re lighthearted, drunk, and giddy, the heat between you two undeniable now as you step closer, your body buzzing with anticipation.

“Maybe I did,” you reply with a flirty grin.

He lifts his chin, motioning for you to come.

“If you want it,” he says stepping back his voice smooth and laced with mischief, “Come get it.”

You feel your heart race, the playful tension thickening in the air as you step around the bar his eyes tracking your every movement.

There’s an unspoken dare in his gaze in the way he watches you approach, like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

You’re unable to resist the pull, and when you finally reach him, your fingers stretch out to grab the card.

But just as your fingers brush it, Hank pulls it back just out of reach with his height, his grin widening.

“Not so fast,” he says, his voice dropping lower, a teasing edge in his tone.

You can’t help but notice the way his strength shows with even the smallest movement, making your pulse quicken just a little more.

You grin, nervous and excited, as you reach again, but he quickly tucks your ID behind his back, forcing you to lean in.

“You must really want it” he teases, his voice like velvet, watching you struggle as you reach around him and before you can even realize what’s happening, his free hand snakes around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

His body is firm and unyielding, the heat between you undeniable as he holds you there, your heart racing faster with each second you stay pressed against him looking into his eyes.

In a swift, smooth motion, he turns you, pinning you against the bar. His body presses hard into yours, trapping you against the wood. The heat of him is overwhelming, as he keeps you in place. You can feel every inch of him, and your pulse quickens, your breath catching in your throat.

His movements are slow, deliberate, as he leans in, his lips grazing the curve of your ear.“

“You’ve been driving me crazy all night,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “The way you kept looking at me, like you knew exactly what you’re doing.” His voice is low, rough, and dripping with promise

His words send a rush of desire through you, your body reacting to his closeness the heat for him pooling in your core.

His biceps tense as he grips the counter on either side of you at the bar keeping you firmly in place and his body pushes against you, his lips lowering close to your neck.

You look to him, catching his gaze, and the intensity in his eyes nearly takes your breath away. He’s in complete control, like he’s toying with you, enjoying every second.

But you don’t care. You want him—need him—with a hunger that’s insatiable.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” you admit, your voice breathy as you press back into him, craving more contact.

“Yeah?” He says as his lips brush your ear again. His hand trails up your side, his fingers just barely grazing the skin beneath your shirt. “How badly?”

Before you can answer, he leans in with his face mere inches from yours and you can feel his breath warm against your lips.

You close the distance in an instant, your lips crashing against his, and it’s like a dam breaking.

He leans in to the kiss, deepening it immediately, his hand sliding up to grasp the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he takes control.

His kiss is intense, full of heat and hunger, and as he presses you harder against him, the energy between you is undeniable.

Your body responds instinctively, hands grasping at his shirt, pulling him closer, needing more.

His body dominates yours, pushing into you with force as his hands roam and explore, guiding you exactly where he wants you. His lips trail down to your neck, kissing, biting lightly, making you gasp with every touch.

“You want more, don’t you?” he murmurs against your skin, his voice thick with desire. His hand slides down your side, his touch making you shiver. “Tell me.”

“Yes,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper as you tilt your head, giving him more access. “Please.”

He grins softly, his lips brushing just below your ear again, sending another wave of heat through your body. “I thought so,” he whispers, his tone playful but commanding, teasing you, pulling you deeper into him. “But I like making you wait for it.” he whispers.

You’re eager, desperate even, hearing those words and his hands tighten on your waist, his hips pressing into you in a way that makes it clear just how much he wants you.

Every second with him so close feels like an eternity, but you can’t get enough, your whole body is aching for more of him.

“Good things come to those who wait,” he whispers, his lips grazing your jaw before he meets your eyes again, the heat in his gaze unmistakable. And when you kiss him again, it’s even more intense, every part of you craving to lose yourself with him so badly.

Your hand slides down, fingers grazing over the hardness beneath his jeans, and you can feel the size of him under your touch. Your breath hitches slightly, and you whimper into his mouth grasping the length cock, wanting to feel it all.

His voice is deep as he grabs your wrist gently but firmly, guiding your hand. “Easy sweetheart,” he says, the words sending a rush through you and with deliberate slowness, he steps back, his eyes never leaving yours.

His hand brushes over your cheek before trailing down your neck.

“On your knees for me,” he says, his voice so commanding, that before you know it, you’re sinking to the floor, looking up at him with wide eyes, eager, desperate for what’s to come.

He takes his time, running his thumb along your lower lip, teasing you as he begins to unbuckle his belt. “So eager,” he whispers, a smirk tugging at his lips.

He watches your hungry gaze as his fingers work the buckle, the click of metal filling the silence around you. His movements are slow, deliberate, as if he’s savoring every second, drawing out the moment just to see you squirm with need.

“You’ve been dying for this, haven’t you?” he asks, his voice low, his tone playful yet filled with dominance.

His jeans loosen as he pulls the zipper down, and you can see the bulge in his boxers even more pronounced now, your body heating up in anticipation.

“I could see it in your eyes all night. You couldn’t stop thinking about it, could you?” He asks making your heart race even faster.

You nod, your breath catching, eager and almost trembling as he stands before you, watching your every reaction. He slides his hand through your hair, gripping it lightly at the base of your neck, guiding you closer.

“I like how eager you are,” he says, his voice laced with approval, “but you’re going to take your time you understand?”

You look up at him, your eyes wide with desire, and nod again, your lips parting as you wait for him, ready to give him everything he wants.

His hand holds you in place as he lowers the front of his jeans and boxers pulling his large cock free.

He’s thick and much bigger than you expected, the weight of him heavy in his hand as he strokes himself slowly.

His gaze never leaves yours as he releases your neck, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. He pulls a magnum condom tearing the wrapper with a flick of his fingers and with a practiced ease he glides the condom down his thick cock.

His size is impressive, and the way he wraps his hand firmly around the base holding it steady makes the moment even more intense.

His eyes darken with desire as his thumb brushes over your lips savoring the softness.

“You ready?” he asks, his voice low and teasing, but the lust in his eyes tells you he already knows what you want and you nod eagerly.

“Open wide for me,” he says, his voice low, dripping with intent as his hand returns to the back of your neck. “Take it slow. I want to feel every inch of that mouth.”

You lean in as he guides you closer, your lips parting around the head of his cock, feeling its smooth warmth as it presses along your tongue. He’s thick and firm, the weight heavy in your eager mouth.

He groans softly, the sound deep and full of satisfaction, his hand remaining steady on the back of your neck, guiding your pace, controlling how much you take in.

“Good girl,” he whispers, his voice laced with pleasure. “You’re doing so well.”

You move with purpose, taking him deeper, your hands gripping his thighs for balance. Every time his cock fills your mouth, he tightens his grip just enough to keep control. His breath hitches, his hips rolling forward slightly as he watches you work.

“Don’t rush,” he snaps, his voice rougher now. He pulls back slightly, making you pause, savoring the way he slides out your mouth and just when you’re aching for more, he thrusts his cock deeper again, filling your mouth with a delicious intensity.

You love it—the way he commands you, the weight of him on your tongue, the pulse of his need. Every time he pushes in deeper, you’re more eager to please him, your body trembling with excitement.

You can feel the tension building in him as you suck him harder, taking him deeper into your mouth, your saliva coating his cock, making it warm and slick.

“Just like that,” he groans, his hand tightening in your hair, his eyes locked on yours. “You’re so good at this. You know exactly what I like, don’t you?”

His praise sends a thrill through you, driving you to take him deeper, to give him everything he wants.

You quicken your pace, encouraged by his words and his hand stays on you, guiding you, pushing you as he groans through gritted teeth, the need for release becoming undeniable.

His hips start moving in rhythm with your mouth as his breaths grows more ragged, and you can tell he’s starting to lose control.

“Fuck… you’re so good,” he pants, his voice thick with need as his control slips further. “Just keep going. …Keep going just like that…” he pants.

You keep at it, your mouth gliding along his cock with precision, pushing him closer to the edge with every second.

His cock twitches in your mouth, and you relax your throat moaning in anticipation wanting more, wanting him to come.

You can hear his breath quicken and feel the tension building in his body. Just as you think he’s about to let go, he suddenly pulls out, releasing his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting you to your lips.

He grips your hair tighter, keeping you in place as he watches you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “So close,” he breathes, his voice laced with both control and amusement.

You can see the desire in his eyes, an enjoyment in making you wait, in holding back just a little longer. He brushes his thumb across your swollen lips clearing the saliva as he savors the sight of you beneath him.

There’s a look of satisfaction in his eyes, dark and intense, as he reaches down to help you to your feet. His touch is steady, as he guides you. He keeps a hand on your waist, pulling you close, his breath warm against your ear as he leans in.

“You’ll get what you want,” he says with a grin, his voice low and filled with intent.

His grip tightens on your waist as he smoothly turns you around, pulling your back against his chest. His lips brush just below your ear, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

“Now bend over for me,” he says, his tone laced with authority, the command making your pulse quicken.

There’s no hesitation in your response as you lean forward, your hands bracing against the smooth wood of the bar your chest presses into the cool surface.

His hands slide down your hips, possessive and firm, pulling you back against him just enough to make you want more.

Your pulse quickens, the need for him growing uncontrollably as your hands instinctively reach back, lifting your skirt, offering yourself to him without a word.

“Look at you,” he grins, his voice low and filled with amusement. “You’ve been wanting this ever since you walked into the bar haven’t you?”

His words hit you like a wave, stoking the fire already burning inside, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest as your face flushes with heat.

Every glance, every touch, every word has been building to this inevitable moment, something you’ve craved since the first instant his eyes met yours.

You nod, feeling every part of you ache for him, your body responding to his touch as his hand trails down to your lower back holding you firmly in place as he presses you against the bar.

“I know how badly you want this,” He says as you feel him brush his cock against your inner thighs, the weight of it heavy with every movement.

The teasing contact, as it slips against your soft skin, has you trembling, your breath hitching with every near touch, the anticipation driving you mad with need, knowing that at any moment he will finally give you what you crave.

"And you've been so patient for me," he praises, his voice laced with satisfaction as he steps back his hand sliding lower, pulling your panties down, leaving you completely exposed and desperate for him.

His fingers brush over your skin, soft and deliberate, sending a shock of pleasure through your core as his hand trails down, finally reaching the heat between your thighs.

You softly moan as his fingers graze lightly against you and a low groan of appreciation escapes his lips, feeling how wet you are for him.

“You’re absolutely soaked,” he says, his laden with satisfaction, the teasing edge in his words making you exhale as you shiver.

“I’ll give you what you need,” he promises, and his words are like fuel to the fire inside you, igniting every inch of your body. His hands return to your waist, gripping firmly as he pulls you against him. Your breath hitching as you feel the firm heat of his cock pressing your entrance and with a firm deliberate thrust he finally gives you exactly what you’ve been aching for.

His cock stretches you inch by inch until its deep inside, his hips pressing firmly against yours, filling you completely. The weight of his size makes moans spill from your lips as you grip the bar in front of you.

He sets a hard, commanding pace, each thrust making your body tremble as his hips snap against you. “You like this, don’t you?” he rasps, his voice dark with satisfaction as the intensity of his cock renders you speechless.

Your body is overwhelmed as soft whimpers and moans escape your lips, the pleasure washing over you in waves as each of his hard thrusts pushes you over your limit.

“I can tell by those little sounds you’re making,” he praises, his voice rough as he keeps driving into you, each thrust deliberate and forceful. His grip on your hips tightening as he presses harder, guiding your body in sync with his, making you moan and whimper louder with every thrust.

“That’s it,” he praises. “Let me hear you. I want to hear every little sound you make.” His words send another rush of pleasure through you, and his hips begin clapping against yours, jolting you forward with the force of his thrusts.

The world around you blurs as your heart pounds in your chest, your breath coming in shallow gasps. The tightness inside you builds, almost unbearable, the pleasure climbing higher with every firm stroke.

“Taking this cock so well,” he praises, his voice filled with raw admiration, as he continues to push deeper and drive into you harder.

You can’t help the moans and gasps that slip out, with your body completely at his mercy and his hand slides up to your hair, gathering it into a ponytail, tugging it tight.

The pull on your scalp makes you gasp, forcing your head up, and you find yourself staring at the bar mirror across the room in front of you, watching the way your body moves against him.

The sight is almost too much, the tension building in your core as he takes control, every thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

“Watch,” he says, his voice rough and commanding. “I want you to see how perfect you are when I’m inside you.”

You can only moan in response, your body clenching around him as he picks up the pace his hips snapping against yours with raw, desperate intensity.

The world around you begins to blur again as your heart pounds in your chest. You core throbs with anticipation as your breath comes in shallow gasps. Your pulse begins thundering in your ears, as the tightness inside you builds to an almost unbearable peak.

His hand releases his grip firm your hair and slides up to your chin, tilting your face toward the mirror in front of you. “Look at yourself,” he whispers roughly in your ear. “Look how good you’re taking me.”

Your gaze locks with his through the mirror, the reflection capturing the raw intensity of the moment as moans spill from your lips. Your breasts bounce with each of his powerful thrusts, your hips meeting his in a rhythm as his body collides against yours, sending shockwaves through your core.

His eyes are locked on yours, dark with lust, watching your every reaction. His cock filling you deeper,thrusting harder as your moans grow higher in pitch

He groans through gritted teeth, his voice strained as he drives into you. “You feel so good,” he pants, his voice thick with desire. “I’m gonna come… you want that, don’t you?” he asks, his breaths ragged, filled with urgency

Your eyes flick to the mirror again, seeing the way your bodies move together and the way he dominates you from behind makes your orgasm build even faster, pushing you closer to the edge with every thrust and you nod to him as you moan.

“Keep taking me…-just like this until I come” He rasps as his thrusts become rougher, the sound of his skin slapping against yours filling the room as he chases his release.

You watch your reflection as you moan desperately, your body arching back into him.

His thrusts are relentless, each one sending shockwaves through you, the impact driving you to the edge. Your muscles spasm uncontrollably as the tension in your core snaps, your orgasm hitting you with a force that makes your vision blur. Your walls clench down hard on his cock, gripping him tightly as wave after wave of pleasure ripples through your body, leaving you gasping

He groans and his eyes lock onto yours in the mirror “I’m gonna come,” he pants, his voice rough with pleasure as he buries himself deep into your walls. His cock is throbbing as he spills himself completely inside of you the heat of his release makes you clench around him again as you moan in pleasure.

His grip tightens on you as he rides out the waves of pleasure, his breaths ragged as his hips move slowly, savoring every second until he’s finally, spent and satisfied.

You’re both left breathless and trembling as he slowly pulls out of you. The sudden loss of his fullness makes you shiver, and he steps back slightly, his chest rising and falling as he catches his breath.

“You’re unbelievable,” he says with a satisfied grin, watching as you pull your panties back up and smooth your skirt down.

You hear the soft snap of him removing his condom, and when you turn, he’s buckling his jeans, that same cocky grin still playing on his lips as his gaze meets yours, filled with satisfaction and pride, as if he knows exactly the effect he’s had on you.

He casually reaches for something on the bar and holds it out to you and you look down smiling to see your ID, between his fingers

He twirls the card, then holds it steady just as you take it from his hand with a smile.

“Thanks,” you say, turning to leave, but before you can even take a step, he grabs your wrist, pulling you back toward him. His grip is firm but teasing, his voice low as he says, “You think you’re walking out of here that easily?”

You raise an eyebrow, the heat between you undeniable. “What, you’re not done with me yet?” you tease trying to play it cool even though you both know there’s a secret bond that’s formed between you.

He smirks, his fingers still wrapped around your wrist. “Not even close,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on yours. “In fact” he says pulling you in closer “ We need to do this again tomorrow,” he says with a satisfied grin.

You pause, pretending to think it over. “Tomorrow?” you say, tapping your chin playfully

He leans in just enough for his lips to brush near your ear, his voice a low, tempting whisper. “Trust me,” he murmurs, his lips grazing your skin, “by tomorrow, you won’t be able to think about anything else.”

You meet his eyes, and the heat between you is undeniable. Slowly, he leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that reignites the fire inside you, leaving you wanting him all over again. Just as you give in, he pulls back, his control clear in every move.

He watches you for a moment longer, his eyes lingering on your lips before a smirk spreads across his face. “Tomorrow then,” he confirms, his voice low and full of promise, and you readily nod, excitement coursing through you.

You step back, breaking the contact, but his fingers linger on your wrist for just a second longer, enough to leave you aching for more before he lets you go.

As you head toward the door, you glance over your shoulder, catching his gaze one last time. He leans casually against the bar, his eyes locked on you, the same confident smirk playing on his lips. “Don’t keep me waiting when I call,” he says his tone playful but firm.

You flash him a smile as you push the handle,“I won’t ,” you reply as he takes one final look at you, then you push the door as you step outside.

The night air hits your skin, but it does nothing to cool the excitement building inside as you breathe in deeply, trying to steady your pulse, but it’s no use—your mind is consumed by Hank.

The way he looks at you, the way he satisfies you, the teasing promise in his voice—it’s all you can think about.

A small, knowing smile tugs at your lips as you hail a cab, your thoughts entirely wrapped up in him. There’s no question in your mind—you’ll be back, and tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

🧢 End

🔗 Master List

🏷️ Always Tags Me List

@purejasmine @faegoddessog @burnthheparaphilia @butdaddyilovehim99 @lindszeppelin @abswifey @ausssbutlershortstories @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @unicoreads @lovereadingfanfic @elvismylove04 @denised916 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader73 @jkdaddy01 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @majestyjade @gravesdiggergirl @nostalgichoya

[kellycataclysm]

'You have a reply for everything, don't you?'

She sat back, a mischievous smile on her face. ‘Care to join me, handsome?’ She pouted playfully. ‘Unless you’re too busy that is…?’ She made a slight move, as if to climb away.

He looked over her, his mouth watering at the sight of her. He leaned over the bed, his hand on her knee.

‘Oh no, no, no. Don’t you dare. I am never too busy for you.’ He smirked. She was such a tease, this little game of cat and mouse making his pulse spike, his head spin with thoughts of what he wanted to do to her.

She hooked a finger under his chin. ‘Are you sure?’ She purred, as she beckoned him closer.

‘Absolutely.’ He murmured against her lips. He moved to kiss her only for her to lean back, just enough, the miniscule gap between them feeling almost impossible to cross in that moment. He groaned in frustration, his lips curling to a smile.

‘Sure of what, Harvey?’ She spoke softly, her gaze dropping to his lips.

‘Of how much I want you.’

‘You can have all of me.’ She smiled, their lips finally meeting, the sweetest moan escaping her. He melted into her delicate touch as she traced her fingertip down his throat, deepening the kiss, taking his breath away. She quirked an eyebrow as they parted.

‘You’re wearing far too many clothes, handsome.’ She smiled, her teeth pressing softly into the pink, kiss-swollen flesh of her perfect lips. He looked down at her, exquisite, half-naked, wearing beautiful teal lace that made her eyes shine. 

‘You’re right. How about we fix that?’ Looking down with a grin as his fingers moved slowly to unbuckle his belt, he chuckled. ‘You’re always so mischievous.’ His eyes locked onto hers. 

‘No-one ever said I was innocent.’ Her eyes flashed. He was lost.

My beloved friend, the sweetest person in the whole world, and incredibly talented artist @sunshinecovey was so so amazingly wonderful and drew Lyra and Harvey again. This commission was so fun for me as I have worked with Sunny several times and I feel like she knows my characters as much as I know them myself. So, I asked Sunny to take the lead and draw them how she felt they would be in a more spicy and intimate situation. And oh boy, did she deliver. Not only is this art utterly flawless but I feel she captured their relationship dynamic so beautifully. They've been together a long time, have had some ups and downs, and made it through. This is so them and I adore it completely.

Thank you so much Sunny for always working with me and for always drawing them so beautifully. I couldn't imagine writing them without you with me!

[necrotic-nephilim]

ok ok but jayroytim😏

this feels especially funny if brudick happens in the background and oliver hates the fact he's now in-laws with bruce

so i have to regretfully admit i'm not really a fan of JayRoy, or at least i'm not a fan of the popular version of JayRoy. i think JayRoy could work and would be a lot of fun! but i have *zero* interest in New-52!JayRoy (or New-52!Roy in general) or rlly any version of Jason and Roy on the Outlaws together. both bc i'm a pre-Flashpoint stan at heart. usually i can stand newer content for ship fodder but for these two oh man it grinds my gears how badly Roy got fucked over-

BUT BUT. that doesn't mean i think the ship has *no* merit. because Jason and Roy *do* have some fodder in pre-Flashpoint. they meet briefly when Jason is Robin, and then again when Jason is Red Hood during that Outsiders arc where Black Lightning is in prison. so! there's definitely material to work with. especially playing into the more fucked up nature of Roy knowing Jason when he was Robin. i think it's cute if Jason had a childhood crush on Roy. and maybe Roy even thought Jason was kind of cute, a spunky kid with a lot of energy and passion. then with Jason as Red Hood, Roy openly doesn't trust him and doesn't like that they're working with him. Jason is just a run-of-the-mill villain with a nasty kill count. and sure, Roy's got a record of tangling with people more on the villain side of things, but even going near the Red Hood feels like a step too far.

adding Tim to the mix is really fun. bc honestly it gives Roy some kind of a fetish for guys who have been Robin and i find that to be delightful. like, even if Roy just sees Jason as the Red Hood, he can't *quite* let go of the image of Jason as Robin. like it just won't get out of Roy's system ever since Jason came back. i think, if i were to write these three together, i'd have Roy and Tim get together first of all people, just because Roy is trying really hard to stop thinking about Jason as Robin, especially now that Jason is older and a little meaner. he's full of guilt about it, and he can't talk to Dick because he's still not sure where Dick's feelings fall about the whole Jason thing so. he goes to Tim instead, thinking if he fucks a different Robin, maybe he'll get it out of his system. Tim's pretty and he's just old enough that it's not *too* morally questionable for Roy to seek him out. it takes a while for Roy to work up the nerves because he and Tim aren't particularly close, so how do you even approach that conversation to make it look organic. it's awkward and Tim can definitely tell something is up but hey, who's going to say no to Roy Harper offering sex? one of Dick's best friends? especially if we put this right after Kon and Bart's death where Tim is just. sort of lonely and seeking companionship. in some ways,, Roy would remind him of Kon, just a little. that sort of cocky attitude and snarky smile.

i would add Jason in by having JayTim happen alongside RoyTim. it's not like Roy and Tim are serious enough to be exclusive and Tim knows Roy is sleeping around, so Tim ends up in a weird hatefucking situation with Jason, which definitely was not supposed to happen. Jason just has a damning way of getting under Tim's skin and won't stop bothering Tim until he gets some kind of attention from Tim. and somehow Jason is interesting enough for Tim to cave. and he doesn't even think about the two relationships he's balancing until he happens to sleep with Jason after being with Roy the night before and there are still marks all over him and Jason does *not* like sharing. so when he interrogates Tim and gets nothing, he does the reasonable thing of stalking Tim to figure out who it is. and it just happens to be the guy Jason had a crush on as a kid.

i think Roy finding out he tried so hard to avoid Jason that he accidentally ended up with the same fuck buddy as Jason would be the funniest thing in the world. like it's not something he can run from anymore and he has to accept that. he tries to awkwardly ask what Tim even sees in the guy bc well, Jason's a killer and not known for being mentally stable. but he's also the guy who exonerated Black Lightning with no real motive besides just helping out. he's complicated and Roy doesn't know how to react. Tim just sort of shrugs bc how do you even explain Jason Todd and well, one thing leads to another and Tim ends up in the middle of the most emotionally charged threesome he's ever been in. love the idea of Jason and Roy using Tim as a toy while they work out their feelings for each other. to me that's the peak dynamic. Jason and Roy are pissed about liking each other and somehow, Tim got roped into things. their relationship is not healthy or normal whatsoever, but somehow, they end up balancing each other out nicely.

background BruDick is also hilarious tho. bc there is no one who hates Bruce more than Oliver and he'd be so annoyed that not only did Roy get tangled up with the Bats, but now everything is so weird their families are pretty tangled together and Oliver has to deal with Bruce a lot more than he wants to. and he's glaring daggers about it the whole time.

[waywardstation]

The other day my thoughts went back to the "Train of Thoughts" AU we created here and how incredibly community driven everything was...

...and it got me thinking how this AU also could be something to be explored in the way your new reblog-story-game-thingy (do these have names btw?) go.

Like which memory-train to tackle next, banter and chatting with MG!Emmet along the way and intermissions with Ingo on the outside reacting when certain memories are unlocked. Also in General interactions with MG!Emmet and the Mind Station. There should be something of a disclaimer at first but I'd love to see a return of this AU as it is still a big favorite for me.

of course no rush on that. I just wanted to share this idea since it could be a fun thing to make at a later point and also would be on brand here since it is your (and our) potluck AU!

(I apologize that this took so long to respond to, I’ve tried to post it three times now but my internet is terrible right now and I’ve had to rewrite this every time!!)

OH I STILL LOVE TRAIN OF THOUGHT AU SO MUCH!! It was so fun getting to build that together with everyone else who brought so many cool ideas and expansions to it!!

SO THAT IS SUCH A COOL IDEA TO MAKE IT AN INTERACTIVE COMIC!!! I would have so much fun doing that and I think others would too! And it keeps the community-driven aspect of it too with letting people pick from options!

I LOVE THIS IDEA!!! It’s such a good idea just like everything else you always come up with, thank you for the suggestion friend!!! ^^

————

I understand that I have not talked about the Train of Thought AU in such a long time. I am sure there are a lot of people here now who don’t know what this AU is. So you are free to check out the respective tag for it, or read the summary below!

So, Train of Thought AU is basically an AU that takes Ingo’s amnesia and turns it into a purposely-caused safeguard to protect his mind from a mind parasite that could permanently destroy it.

So in this AU, Ingo fell to Hisui through one of Giratina’s wormholes. It was not smooth and things definitely clashed together. While going through, a part of Giratina’s essence meshed with him, becoming trapped in Ingo’s mindscape when he exited the other side of the wormhole and into Hisui.

This part of Giratina quickly developed into an entity. This part is not Giratina itself, but rather something that grew from Giratina’s characteristics. Named Remnant, this entity was mindless, did not act on a conscience, and much like a virus, has a one-track mind, one direction — to get out of this mindscape and into the real world, destroying everything on the way out if it has to.

And that is exactly what is began to do.

For reference, Ingo’s mindscape resembles Gear Station. There are many traincars inside that hold different memories, and many lines for these cars to operate on that are meant for different trains of thought. (There is a line for memories to influence dreams while he’s sleeping, there is a line for things that get stuck in his head and play over and over, like songs, there is a train yard where embarrassing memories are banished to, etc.)

Once Remnant had realized what was going on, it began destroying memory traincars in a fury to get out, damaging important memories.

In doing this, a system that was implemented realized something was inside the mindscape that was damaging it, and it made a heavy decision in the moment to protect it.

This system is referred to as a Mind Guardian. Mind Guardians are the mind’s security system basically, dedicated to protecting the mind. They manifest in the mindscape as the person the mind trusts the most — in Ingo’s case, it was Emmet.

MG Emmet made the decision to lock all the train cars (trapping Remnant inside one of them in the process) and send them all into a train yard meant for memories that should be forgotten. Emmet built a barricade by cramming so many cars together, keeping Remnant securely in a prison.

But by doing this, MG Emmet left Ingo with so little to remember, he fell into an amnesia. MG Emmet knew this would happen, and it would leave him with a severely disfunctional mindscape to oversee, but intact memories that were locked away were better than memories that were irreparably damaged.

But that meant that all of Ingo’s memories of Emmet were locked away as well. With Ingo’s consciousness unable to recall Emmet, MG Emmet lost practically everything that made him “Emmet.” Most of his appearance and speech patterns were lost to darkness, blurs, and static, and without a name to remember, he simply became the Conductor.

While Remnant was locked away, unable to escape the memory it was trapped in, there was one loophole where it could still roam the station. Whenever Ingo would fall asleep, many of the mindscape’s functions would pause or stop. Remnant could use its tendrils to wander the dark station, in search of anything it could get ahold of or take advantage of — one of those things being MG Emmet specifically.

Remnant knew MG was the one who trapped it, and all it sees MG Emmet as is an obstacle, an adversary keeping it stuck in this mindscape. It wants to hunt down and eliminate MG Emmet.

MG Emmet knows this, so whenever Ingo goes to sleep and the station goes dark, he knows he has to hide. Usually, he takes shelter in the memory car that contains Ingo’s recollection of Emmet’s joltik hoard. He finds comfort in it and it’s easy to hide under layers of joltiks.

And so, for Ingo’s entirety in Hisui, he was entirely unaware of all of this, assuming the amnesia was from a head injury or a rough trip through a rift (which, technically yes it is haha) and thought nothing of it.

However one day when Akari brings the Lake Guardians to Professor Laventon for help with further studies (and for him to get to admire them), Uxie senses Ingo, and that something is very wrong with his mind. It’s not empty, no. Rather, everything is still in there, it’s just inaccessible. Very strange!

Uxie decides, with everyone’s agreement and Ingo’s consent, to try entering his mindscape and trying to figure out what’s wrong. They attach themselves to Ingo to make a mental link, but within moments, the link is broken. Uxie tries again, only to be ejected again. Another try, another forceful rejection.

MG Emmet is the one kicking Uxie out of Ingo’s mind. He already had enough of a mess with Remnant, he is not going to let a second pokemon into the mindscape again.

So a solution comes down to Uxie connecting Akari and Irida’s minds to Ingo’s, and putting their consciousnesses into his mindscape — Ingo is most comfortable with both of them going in, as they’re the two people in Hisui who he knows and trusts best — Uxie sends them in, but has to stay connected to Ingo’s head the entire time so as not to break that connection.

(The sketches below were done before we got Ingo’s hairline reveal lol. I didn’t know what to work with so I just made something up. Also why Ingo looks so different here; I was still figuring out how I wanted to draw him.)

Akari and Irida are sent into the mindscape, and immediately begin running. MG Emmet reflexively goes to kick them out, but he has to catch them first to do so before they split up.

Initially, Akari and Irida have to be careful and keep avoiding MG Emmet, who is hunting them down every free moment he has. They almost get caught several times (See the memes below lol).

This goes on for quite a bit, until Ingo falls asleep and the station shuts down again (he still has no idea that sleeping will make things dangerous for everyone in there — all he knows is Uxie will keep them connected as long as it needs). The three of them run into Remnant as it’s now scouring the station, and MG Emmet gets hurt.

They all manage to escape, but Irida and Akari come across MG Emmet recovering in his joltik car while looking for a place to hide. They join him and do their best to help him, and this is when they finally have a chance to show him that genuinely, they’re here to help, and want to restore Ingo’s mind and get rid of Remnant, just like he does.

From this point on, MG Emmet begins to trust them and joins them, making sure they stay safe navigating the mind station. He will explain the situation in more detail, show them all of the traincars and what the different lines are meant for, show them the manifestations of people and pokemon that Ingo has come to know in Hisui (like Lady Sneasler!) as well as Ingo’s manifestation of his own damaged self-image, and help them unlock more of Ingo’s memories, slowly but surely making their way to the memory traincar that Remnant is trapped in.

MG Emmet also cannot help but torment Ingo like the brother he is — he will go out of his way to show Akari and Irida embarrassing memories of things that Ingo has said and done throughout his whole life. MG Emmet laughs at them, Akari laughs even louder. Irida is just mortified. And Ingo, to his horror, can tell they’re going through these memories when he finds he’s suddenly remembering all these embarrassing things at once.

There is so much more to this AU, this summary, as long as it is, has barely scratched the surface! There is so much more with many ideas, scenarios, and expansions that people have graciously shared, and they’re all so cool! If you find yourself interested in this AU and would like to see more where people have presented really cool ideas and expanded upon them, I highly suggest browsing through this AU’s tag -> #Train of Thought AU !

[thefriendlyferretwriter]

Weasel

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Ravenclaw!F!Reader

Summary: A back and forth with the infamous Fred Weasley sends the two nemeses into a back-and-forth that lands them in detention, where both their frustration and anger send them into a deep argument full of insults, tension, and revelations.

Warning: LONG, 8k words, lots of scene cuts becuz a LOT happens, rivals to lovers (not really, Fred's obsessed with reader and is a little shit), boy pulls on the pigtails of the girl he claims he dislike type trope, was forced to give reader at least a last name, same for her best friend ( went with one of the most generic name Tiffany), Fred being a little shit, argument, tension, reader is unhinged

A/N: Fun fact about this fic it almost included a Pygmy Puff before I checked and discovered that they were created by the twins for their shop and since they are still students I had to go and swap it up with a baby puffskein. No idea how to describe that fic, there will definitely be multiple parts, enjoy!

There are no other places like Hogwarts.

The scenery, the castle's secrets, and the yearly competition between houses are something to behold.

But what might be icing on the cake is the library. The place where I can lose track of time all the while learning about the magical world.

The library has a hush rule but you can't help the coughs, the few ink pots falling to the ground, or even the giggles here and there but it doesn't bother me one bit, it even helps me focus as I enjoy yet one more day in the castle.

"Hi there Raven."

And there goes my enjoyment.

With a roll of my eye, I direct them toward the annoying voice belonging to none other than Fred Weasley who stands there with his satchel on his side leaning against one of the book-filled shelves.

"Weasel," I acknowledge him with a sigh looking back down at my page.

"Weasley," he corrects drily.

I brush him off as I finish my inked sentence and wait for it to dry before turning the page and asking him what he's doing here.

He leans on the table by his hip and crosses his arms inclining his head towards me, "What is it to you?"

"You being here is a bad omen so either you're here to sell your stupid stuff to the first years," I say glancing at his sachel for a second before looking back down at my work, "Or it involves annoying me and I'm having a good day to waste it dealing with you today."

I don't look at him and instead focus on my next sentence when I hear some shuffling and a piece of rolled-up parchment drops next to me that I recognize all too well.

"You must be kidding me," I groan snatching the parchment from the table.

"Unfortunately no. McGonagall benched me and said that if I wanted to stay on the quidditch team I needed a tutor."

His speech makes me groan as the lines reiterate his rant in a distinguished manner and is signed at the bottom by Professor Flitwick.

"McGonagall sent me to Flitwick who recommended you. Said you needed tutoring on your record."

I let go of the paper and join my hands together placing my thumbs on the base of my nose to try and diminish the incoming headache.

"Soo," he draws out attracting my gaze, "See you later, I'll be waiting for your owl."

I see him walking backward, all cocky as he dares to wink at me before turning around and descending the spiral stairs.

I audibly scoff and slam my notebook closed.

Yet another day ruined by that damn Weasel.

"He's a pest."

"You're exaggerating again," she laughs at me standing up from her seat.

"No, I'm not!" I say shoving the last book in my bag as class just ended, "He's obnoxious and annoying and a nuisance to my peace," I stand up and follow right after her.

It's been a few days since my unfortunate meeting with the least likable Weasley in the library and the meeting with Professor Flitwick and McGonagall this early morning couldn't have gotten any worse since no amount of pleading on my part could get them not to assign me with him. As a supplement I had the redhead walk in on me pleading which had him reveling at my misery digging me into a deeper foul mood.

"He's a funny guy that sometimes goes too far," she says pushing a chair that wasn't tucked under its assigned table.

"He's the bane of my existence," I say full of venom.

She laughs walking toward the classroom's exit," That's romantic."

"No, saying someone is the bane of your existence isn't romantic."

"I'm sure you could turn it into something romantic, like a poem or a book about forbidden love," she daydream walking through the door.

"You read too many romance books," I say stepping outside the classroom when I freeze and feel like I'm going underwater as my body is iced out for a moment.

It feels as if I've been hit with glacius but I'm able to use my voice and squeal in shock as the feeling subsides and I'm brought back from my shock by two giggles.

I see two first-year Gryffindors laughing nervously before they simultaneously decide to run away, one of them letting loose on her wand that was levitating the bucket letting it fall on the ground with a loud clash.

I'm left in the middle of the open hallway surrounded by classmates who just exited their class.

The wind hits me and I feel my body shiver before I look up at my friend whose mouth is covered by her hands in surprise.

I hear it.

The annoying infuriating sound of distant laughter, one I cannot mistake for another.

My eyes zero on him sitting on the transfiguration courtyard's tree clutching his stomach as he laughs balancing himself on the branch.

"You were saying?" I ask her rhetorically still dripping in the pink-colored jelly-like liquid.

She lowers her hands and approaches me slowly trying to wipe my face.

I feel the bubbling of rage making its way up my throat with my breathing taking up seeing him seated up there on the branch looking like a king sitting upon the throne of his buffoonery surrounded by his brainless friends, or rather, George's brainless friends and it makes me snap.

I push her hand away and stomp my way through the hallway onto the courtyard's grass toward him.

"Weasley!" I yell as I march to him.

"Oh, now she remembers my name," he laughs out loud for his twin and his friends to hear as the number of students stopping by increases.

He slides off the branch with ease and starts strutting to me with this damn cocky smile.

George stands up from his leaning stance on the tree, "Fred," he says.

I don't know if it's a warning or a scolding but his intent doesn't matter to me.

My hearing is replaced with the beats of my heart drumming in my ears as my face feels as hot as lava.

My steps get bigger and bigger and the closer his infuriating smirk approaches, the rage escapes me as my hand swings back and closes into a fist before landing in his face mid-step.

The audible hit is met with a groan and while I'm far too small to send him to the ground with a punch it does send him swaying back and hunching over.

In a second George jogs to his twin and hands him support grabbing his elbow as Fred's groan turns into another one of his annoying chuckles.

"You see how she hit me?!" he shouts looking delighted by the situation before he lays his gaze back on me with a bit of blood on his teeth.

His smirk falls and I believe for a moment that I finally did it, I finally managed to instate fear in this jackass before I realize his gaze moved from my frame to someone behind me.

The buzzing in my ears ceases and my hearing comes back to me as the grass crunches under one's weight indicating someone approaching.

A cold sweat travels through my body when I turn around and spot none other than Professor Hooch standing tall in front of us.

By instinct, I take a step back and bump into Fred before jumping aside as if he burnt me which isn't far off as my knuckles are calling out for help burning and tingling from the impact it had on his cheek.

She sends us both one of her infamous hawk looks that could petrify Dumbledor himself, "I presume that display of violence can be explained by your appearance?" her pointed look is directed at me.

I try to wipe the substance off my hair with an annoyed huff.

Her eyes travel to Fred whose head is pointed down grabbing his chin and messing with his mouth moving his jaw from side to side.

"That rewards the both of you with an hour's detention," that answer makes him groan and I point at him with outrage.

"But he-!" My disbelief doesn't reach her before she cuts me off.

"You're both dismissed. Mr.Weasley, I advise you to escort your brother to the infirmary to tend to his injury. As for you, I advise you to go clean yourself up before heading to the infirmary as well, perhaps at a time Mr.Weasley won't be there," she finishes her sentence looking at George who acknowledges her insinuation with a nod.

Still clutching his jaw, Fred is led away by his elbow by George as Hooch walks to stand in front of me, "While I understand your frustration I did expect better from you than violence."

My eyes widen and the breath I take in is cut off, "He-"

"This isn't about Mr.Weasley's childish behavior, he will receive his punishment either way. What disappoints me is that you could've avoided any punishment by reporting this to me or any other professor in the area but instead, you will ecope of an hour's detention as well."

She says shaking her head as she walks away leaving me standing here in the courtyard covered in the substance and an aching fist that doesn't even feel satisfying knowing it didn't teach the jerk anything.

"Why is it so windy today?! I thought it was supposed to be sunny!" I complain trying to be louder than the wind.

"No it's supposed to switch all day, look," my friend says motioning to the daily prophet in her hands bringing the paper closer to my face so I can see the weather section indeed announcing an insufferable change of weather all day.

"You can still spot the puddles from the rain earlier," Luna Lovegood points to the Quidditch pitch where the grass is still two shades darker and the random puddles of water stir with strength from the wind blowing.

My venting is interrupted by a loud collision that sends me twisting around back to the pitch to see Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teammates fighting over the quaffle like rabid dogs in what is supposed to be an amicable match as a form of training.

"Remind me again what's the point of an amicable match if there is no amicability?" I ask turning to face them just to miss the apparent goal from a Gryffindor through one of the Ravenclaw's lowest hoops.

I groan when I recognize the face of the person who managed to pass our defenses as he basks in the small victory.

"What is it raven?! Can't take in the sigh of greatness?!" he gloats seated comfortably on his broom with his red hair all tussled.

His pretentiousness blinds him and his arrogance leaves him to ignore the whistle suggesting the match continues and leaves a fellow Ravenclaw to score in a flash right behind him. The only indicator that anything happened at all is the small thunder of applause and shouts of approval coming from the small gathering of students who decided to kill time and participate in the amicable match to cheer each team on.

His head whips around and the sight of the opposite team scoring sends him tilting his head back with a groan that he tries to conceal but it doesn't escape anyone's notice.

The karma is enough but it is so rare to catch the weasel in one of his life life-learning moments that I don't hesitate before deciding that I need to add my little grain of salt to the wound.

I have it, I have the perfect response to give him right on the tip of my tongue and I wonder for a second if the smirk grazing my lips isn't a giveaway but my witty taunt is stopped when a broom enters my line of vision.

"See?! I told you your presence would do me good. Look at that, bullseye!"

I'm sure he means no harm, I know him to be humble but the poor lad either didn't see Weasley or simply decided to ignore his presence.

The fact that he is being ignored after being wrecked is sickly satisfying and my smirk manages to widen somehow.

It is clear he simply didn't see Fred as this one's scowl sends him silently flying away in an awkward, one-sided staredown that ends with him glancing at me with an uncomfortable wide-eyed stare, silently asking for help.

I stare at him flying further and further away and only look back when I notice George approaching his twin on his broom.

His frustration is clear and the eye roll along with his head thrown back pleases me a great deal.

The devilish idea is too good and it doesn't take a lot of self-convincing before I fall for temptation.

"What is it Weasel, too busy drowning in your own ego you can't pay attention?!" I shout so my sickly honeyed voice reaches him and George as I tuck my now pastel pink hair behind my ears.

'The concoction should last less than a week. This Flemont Potter was a genius!' nurse Pomfrey said.

The scowl adorning his face fills me with warmth and electricity buzzes through my veins knowing I have the last word for once.

"Nice hair," he tries himself at a desperate dig that does not work as Professor Hooch whistles for him to fly back to the match.

Turning his back to me, he flies back to the center of the field I can't help but laugh realizing that it's the first time he turns his back to me without walking away with the last word.

The whistle is blown and the speed at which each team goes at the other's throat could cause whiplash if one wasn't used to it.

I'm focused on a group of players when my peripheral vision drags my eyes to my friend throwing the quaffle with all his strength leaving another small group of three players to speed away.

Taking a moment to take in his throw he looks back down and waves at me with a smile, satisfied with his play.

I wave back with a grin of my own before he disappears out of my sight as a bludger hits him straight in the back of the head with a resounding thunk throwing him off his broom and crashing to the ground.

I hear a loud yell and realize it comes from me as my body instinctively reacts and bolts toward the pitch.

Professor Hooch is already by his side by the time I run to his limp self.

"Is he okay?!" I get caught off guard by my friend reaching him and kneeling at his side before I do.

I stand there looking down at him in shock as people start surrounding the area trying to take a look at the wounded on the ground when I notice the Gryffindor team lowering themselves on the ground including the culprit.

His quidditch robe swings with each one of his steps as he walks towards the commotion very slowly like in a trance.

"You too bring a stretcher," she says shooing away both a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw player.

I hear George Weasley calling after his brother who has now reached Professor Hooch kneeling on the ground

"Is he okay?"

How dare he. His filthy meek voice asking about his well-being as if he isn't the reason my friend is lying unresponsive on the ground.

That familiar boiling sensation in my chest rises again and I feel my fists clenching by themselves.

Before I can comprehend my thought process I am bolting toward him. Still, before I can reach him George jumps in front of him getting ready for whatever, a whatever that does not come as I am held up by the waist by two Gryffindor players sensing the hostility.

"What is wrong with you!" I holler up in the air struggling with all my might against the hold of the chasers which is useless against the player's strength.

The rest is a blur, George pushes the douche towards the locker room as I follow the stretcher closely to the infirmary.

"If you stare any harder you're gonna be the first third year student here to achieve wandless magic," she chuckles "It's you! You did this!" he yells shoving me back and sending me stumbling on the ground probably trying to get me as dirty as he is. back down at her textbook.

"False," I utter not leaving the weasel out of my burning stare.

I notice her raising her head from my side view in wonder.

"Granger," I state chewing on my thumb's fingernail.

The sight of him simply sitting there without any consequences under the excuse of 'it's part of the game, nobody can prove there were any malicious intents behind that strike' drives me mad and haunts my head with multiple scenarios of murder that keep replaying again and again.

"You have to let it go. Pomfresh said he'll be fine."

"He didn't deserve that strike it was targeted to piss me off because I got the last word," I say wincing when I realize I bit my thumb a bit too hard and drew some blood.

"It's part of Quidditch, many, many people took strikes to the head."

"Bullshit. A strike to the head during an amicable match? Come on," I roll my eyes frustrated that everybody seems so eager to just brush this incident off.

"I'm gonna start thinking you're checking him out and not actually glaring at him."

"Have you lost your mind?!" I say louder than intended, my head whipping left to glare at her this time.

There is no silence as the Care for the Magical Creature class takes place outside and the lack of chatter is covered up by the sound of wind rustling the nearest tree's leaves and the distant purrs and grumbles of the different creatures in their pen.

"Is there a problem?"

Unlike McGonagall or Snape, Professor Hagrid's tone of voice isn't accusatory but genuinely one of concern. This concern eats at me as the idea that he might believe even for a moment that my words are targeted towards him makes bile rise in my throat.

"No!" is my immediate response to reassure the professor but the rest of my explanation seems to be stuck in my throat as I have a hard time imagining myself explaining to the class that I was just defending myself at the mention of me hypothetically checking Weasley out.

That same person here in the open classroom with a side smirk plastered on his annoying face trying his best not to laugh at me, not because it would be rude but because not laughing at the right time alongside the rest of the class wouldn't be as satisfying as a full-on public humiliation.

I see Hagrid lowering his chalk and I can already foresight him asking what he might have done wrong which is not something you want to ask as a teacher in front of a bunch of ruthless teenagers.

His other hand joins in on the other starting to mess with his chalk making him appear anxious and way less mighty.

The awkwardness doesn't begin to measure to the remorse of having put him in this situation because of my impulsive nature.

"It's my fault!" my friend shouts in my defense.

Looking at her, Tiffany managed to snatch up a baby puffskein and hold it up to Hagrid's sight.

"I put him in her hair and she was afraid he would do a pooh."

The laughs are inevitable but I'm certain the 'do a pooh' will haunt my nightmare.

The mocking is a harmony of taunting and I can only look beside me to glare at her sitting there with the puffskein in hand as I wish he would just 'do a pooh' in her hands this instant.

At least Professor Hagrid seems reassured, smiles as the misunderstanding is cleared up, and turns back around to continue the lesson.

We're sent to different enclosures containing different creatures and are instructed to feed them to create a bond.

"Look at him acting casual as if he didn't send someone to the infirmary with a trauma to the head," I say full of venom seeing him being buddy-buddy with another Gryffindor girl as they try to feed Mooncalf in the open and have a laugh as they are surrounded by the eager herd starving for pets and seeds.

"Will you quit it and enjoy one of the only course that's relaxing here," she scolds kneeling closer to the ground to feed a diricawl who nibs at her finger affectionately before walking past her hand and pitter-pattering to her to lay his head on her chest to receive pats on his head.

"Plus you've already been told we can't know if the blow was on purpose."

"That's a load of bullshit and you know it, he's one of the best beaters here," I say with a pointed look at her throwing a violent handful of seeds towards the rest of the diricawls.

"Did I just hear you compliment Fred Weasley?" she says looking up at me with a teasing smile.

"It's not a compliment I'm just stating a fact, the probability of Weasley hitting someone right on the head by accident at such distance is close to none," I say throwing another handful as my eyes catch a paddock with dubogs in it, one in particular who is devouring the weasel with his bulgy eyes.

There are three dubogs in the small paddock and two of them are cooling off in the dirty pond uninterested in anything else but sunbathing with only their eyes above the murky water blinking one at a time as the third one is eating up Weasley with his eyes.

A devilish idea makes its way into my head. The opening I get is served to me on a gold platter as Tiffany is distracted by the herd of diricawl overtaking her landing her on the ground, surrounded.

My chance is heightened by Weasley's back turned to me talking with his little girlfriend.

I take my chance disregarding any rational thought invading my head. Sneakily climbing over the fence, I crouch and walk toward the desired enclosure. The creature doesn't seem to sense me approaching and if he does he doesn't seem to care one bit licking his eye and pawing the ground with his hind leg.

A part of me wishes I could egg him on and ask him if he wants to nibble on the Weasel's ankles but I'd rather not throw my plan out of the window. Instead, I carefully slide my arm to the latch and pull on it slowly to make sure not to make any noise before giving the door a small push to create the crack that seems to be enough to throw the creature out for a jog as he crashes against the paddock's door.

I don't get to see the seconds before the disaster as I have to hurry back and jump over the fence once again, running back to my friend and free her from the diricawl's clutches giving her a hand and raising her back up as the show starts.

The screams that grace my ears aren't from fear but more from shock as the tall redhead lands on the ground when I finally get to lay my eyes on him. The dubog licks him from bottom to top with the creature's natural dirt and slimey skin rubbing off on him as his Gryffindor girlfriend screeches for help calling for Professor Hagrid who runs up to help in a flash.

The man's height isn't only impressive and intimidating but also a great advantage to grab the massive creature off and drag it back to its enclosure where the other two are still sunk in the water, sunbathing and behaving.

Once shut close, Professor Hagrid grips the wooden bars of the enclosure to gather himself before turning around and helping Weasley up with just one hand gripping the back of his blouse. While he seems shaken up by the encounter, he tries to rub off some of the mud on his face but only manages to smear it looking around at the rest of us.

The reactions vary, some are as shocked as he is and others shrug off their worries and are now laughing at his appearance now that they've established that he is healthy and no longer in danger.

I myself giggle knowing that while I can't get him punished for his action back on the pitch, I get to watch him look like a fool and even up the score. My friend does not agree and lets me know by elbowing me in the ribs making me groan mixing laughter and painful grunts.

Laughter that is spotted by the redhead when his head whips to me before his eyes light up.

His eyes shift from eureka to burning hatred. Shrugging off the hand of his friend trying to tidy him up and storms in my direction.

"It's you! You did this!" he yells shoving me back and sending me stumbling on the ground probably trying to get me as dirty as he is. The confrontation is cut short when Hagrid once again showcases his immeasurable strength by yanking the weasel back with a tug on his now mostly white blouse and throwing him behind his eleven-foot frame that stands now right in front of me.

"Enough with the both of you!" his voice booms in the open area.

He takes a step back and I can get a peak at the redhead enough to see him huffing and puffing from being thrown around like a doll.

"This is a classroom, not a pub. Now the both of you will walk all the way up to Professor McGonagall's office and explain exactly why I had to send the both of you to her and she will be the one to give you your punishment!"

I look at him now, hair disheveled and his tie undone covered in dirt and mud and slime. He still looks somewhat decent as he pushes his hair back with a huff.

I must look just as messy with my pink hair having been thrown on the ground and I decide to tug at the end of my own blouse trying to tidy myself up and avoid any more wrinkles on it.

"Miss Granger, please accompany those two, you know what to do if they misbehave."

"She tried to kill me!" Fred yells pointing at me.

"Do you have any proof, Mr.Weasley?"

He seems to hesitate for less than a second before motioning to me with his hand in frustration.

"It's logical thinking, she hates my gut and she's crazy!"

"You jerk-!" I bellow throwing myself in his direction before I'm engulfed in the Professor's arms.

"Enough!" He yells once more letting me go only when I stop fidgeting in his hold.

"There is no way of proving the Miss did anything. This paddock's lock has been faulty for a while and after this incident, I will personally see that it is dealt with."

He says as if he was addressing the whole class who is still standing all around us watching the event unfold.

"As for the both of you, you will do as you're told and let Miss.Granger accompany the both of you back to the castle and receive the punishment the both of you deserve for the waste of both my time and your classmates' time."

The tone is harsh and the decision is final.

"I am very disappointed in the both of you. You're worth so much more than this petty rivalry," the man shakes his head walking away.

Those words seem to have the same result on both of us. We look down a bit ashamed before we are ushered away by Hermione as we start the long and silent journey back to the castle.

We both stand in silence, side by side with yet a respectable distance as the two professors stand in front of us with judgmental stares that don't need any words to transcribe their distaste…or is it disappointment?

We were sent to our respective bathrooms to clean up 'as best as you can' while my request to wash off completely was denied by both teachers and so here I stand with the back of my blouse tainted by dirt as Weasley could barely wash the slimy texture out of his own blouse and barely dry it with what I believe might have been a spell.

And so here he stands looking dirtier than me despite the order to clean up.

"Now that the awful stench has been managed I believe a proper punishment is in order," McGonagall says with her hands joined in front of her.

"I agree, my cauldrons are in dire need of a scrub," Snape says with his usual disinterested tone.

Weasley starts protesting and claims that I should receive a harsher punishment for my so-called actions.

"She tried to kill me!" he protests.

"And as I told you Mr.Weasley there is no way for us to possibly prove this claim as Professor Hagrid did not see any of this unravel."

"Just like no one saw you throw that bulger." I bite under my breath.

"Exactly Miss.Hermlock. And I would suggest you speak with your full chest if you have any objection." Mc.Gonagall drily berates me.

"Snape-Professor Snape," he quickly corrects himself, "said multiple times that in such cases veritaserum should be used, and since she's SO confident saying she didn't do anything she won't mind doing this, won't she," he says towering over my side.

"I've always known you were a moron but I never thought you would outdo yourself in front of teachers," I smirk crossing my arms.

"Mr.Weasley, even with Miss.Hermlock's permission, the usage of such beverage on a student is forbidden. I would've hoped that with a father working for the ministry, you out of all of us would remember that."

My smirk doubles in size which I thought would never be possible.

In the end, my smirk is wiped away when we are both awarded two hours of detention with Snape. And as if it wasn't enough the punishment is cleaning the endless potion class's cauldrons.

We're ordered to go clean up, thoroughly this time and go for lunch before being expected in the dungeons for our detention hours.

We arrive at the same time just as the last student exits the class, we are left standing side by side, or more precisely 3 feet away from each other as we walk in right in front of Snape's office where he is seated with his head down to his paper purposely stalling and letting us stand there in awkward silence.

What must've been minutes feel like hours as I try my best not to side-eye the redhead standing silently beside me.

I wonder if I should've refrained from opening that damn pen when I hear those continuous scraping of pen meant to insult us as the dark-haired teacher ignore our presence.

He finally puts his feather back in its inkwell before he stands resting both his hands on his desk, "I believe I don't have to remind you what you need to do during those two hours of detention."

Neither of us answers and that seems to egg him on to stand straight and walk around his desk to stand right in front of us, his hands placed behind him.

"You two will clean every single cauldron here, I made sure none of my classes cleaned their equipment to make sure the lesson will stick and you won't have to keep me company again on such a fine day," he says bending to my height and looking straight into my eyes for just a moment before moving his sight onto Weasley, "At least one of you will learn."

Standing back up his speech is interrupted by strong stomps getting closer.

Turning around, the three of us look towards the class's entrance as we spot for a single second a figure sliding across the entrance and disappearing with a loud thud that sounds painful.

It is the first time I make eye contact with the weasel since the last time we butted heads and it is to share a sour scrunched-up expression for the victim of the fall who we hear grunting in the hallway before the sound of their footsteps echoes once more and we see the face of the one who rushed here most likely to speak to Snape.

He's bent over leaning on the door out of breath.

"Berkshire, if you're done fooling around you may grace us with an explanation as to why you're disturbing this detention."

Still out of breath, Enzo Berkshire huffs and puffs for a few more seconds before settling down still bent over.

"It's Nott," he exhales deeply before breathing in once more, "He and Wood started a brawl between quidditch teams, Hooch told me to come get you."

Turning back to the teacher, his eye roll is noticeable and his silence is an obvious assessment of the situation as he probably is planning what to do now that he is torn between us two and the alleged brawl.

"Alright, As the head teacher of house Slytherin, I will accompany Berkshire and assist Professor Hooch in this conflict."

He points to us, "As for the two of you. You will stay here and complete your detention without any complaints. If you leave before your time is up, I will know and that will reward you an entire week of detention."

Pointing at Berkshire, Snape walks past us and orders him to lead them away and with a flick of his wand makes it known that it is thanks to that maneuver that he'll know of us potentially leaving the classroom.

"Behave." is all he says before walking right behind a speeding Enzo Berkshire.

I wonder if he was referring to the both of us or maybe just Weasley.

I don't get to ponder on that before my thoughts are drawn elsewhere at the realization that my worst nightmare is unfolding before me, I am now stuck with the most insufferable student here for two hours doing the most aggravating task besides cleaning the house bathrooms.

I only get back to reality when I hear him throw his robe and satchel on a nearby station.

Being left alone with him, the task at hand, and the absence of Snape to muzzle the redhead angers me as I frop my own bag and stomp to one of the sinks filled to the brim with dirty cauldrons.

I don't even get to enjoy a full minute of tense peace as the douchebag starts his usual yapping.

"Can't say I'm surprised he would leave me alone with you, Snape has always hated me and it's no wonder he left me with you considering you tried to kill me," he mouths off as always lifting a cauldron from its stove and piling it on top of another one.

"And yet you're still breathing, what a shame." I roll my eyes as well as my sleeves picking up a scraper.

A moment of silence passes and I pray this is the moment he realizes he needs to shut up so we can endure the rest of this detention in mild peace but alas this is a good idea and everyone knows that Frederick Weasley never had one of those in his life.

"Damn. The sorting hat must've made a mistake, maybe you belong with the other psychopaths in Slytherin." He throws both cauldrons beside the filled sink with a loud clang.

"I'm sorry but I'm not the one cladding the scales." I bite back.

"Oh, she has claws," he draws out loudly, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"What is wrong with you?" I ask genuinely turning around to face him.

"No, the question is what is wrong with you," He asks back louder.

"Nothing is wrong with me! You're the one who can't figure out when to stop, you're the one who always goes too far and you're the one who went too far once again, so much so that you ended up sending my friend to the infirmary!" I hurl and see him losing that fire that usually overtakes his pupils showing he enjoys egging on people once they are set off.

"It's the risk when you play Quidditch," he tries and fails to sound firm in his statement making me scoff.

"For Rowena's sake, you're still acting as if you didn't purposely throw that bulger at him!" I say running my hands through my hair in frustration.

"I didn't!" he says even less believable.

Done with his excuses I turn back around to give all my attention back to the dirty cauldrons when he manages to slide between me and the sink making me take a huge step back.

"I didn't mean to throw it that hard."

I stare at him, no, I glare at him feeling the urge to punch him again but I remember that it didn't do anything for me the last time and instead opt to let out my frustration by hollering at him and walking away before I make the mistake of punching him and have a Professor magically appear out of nowhere to give me more detention again.

Even when I think I finally win and have him admit to his wrongs he still finds a way to make excuses for himself.

"What were you expecting?! I'm a beater that's what we do!"

Does he really think I don't know what a bloody beater is?!

Is he trying to make me pass off as an emotional wreck because of my appropriate reaction to such injury during a supposed amicable match?!

Any beater whether amateur or professional could agree that either maliciously or not that throw was unwarranted during training.

"There really is something wrong with you," I walk right in front of him, toe to toe, and spite my statement right in his face pushing him aside to gain back access to the sink.

I start scrubbing as my mind throws all the different reasons I despise the fucker. Irresponsible, unfunny, no compassion.

I'm so lost in my spiteful analysis of him that I don't register that my thoughts aren't my own anymore as I unconsciously start rambling out loud.

"An idiot who doesn't even think before taking people down with him," I grumble scrubbing away.

"Come on now it's not like he's dead," He nips throwing down yet another pile of small cauldrons beside me.

"I'm talking about me!" I yell letting go of my current task and letting the pot fall and clang with another one causing a ruckus in the sink.

"Not only is my friend in the infirmary because of you but I'm also stuck with you trying to teach someone who I learned has never been slacking in muggle history before recently."

His jaw slacks open and his eyes double in size like the breakfast sausages I had this morning.

"Wait a minute. You think I'm doing this on purpose?!"

You do everything on purpose! Your dad works for the ministry, he is a Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office employee dammit! If anyone is an expert at muggle stuff it's your dad!" I say as a matter of fact.

"And tell me exactly what would it bring me to purposely be bad at this subject all of a sudden?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe to annoy me more often than usual." it sounds like a question but I know I'm just clarifying the situation.

"You think I'm gonna waste my days stuck with you in the library acting dumb for fun?" he tries to ask sarcastically.

"And why not? Beside the library part isn't that what you do all day anyways?"

The quick wit seems like it struck him as he scoffs with a broad smile.

"If you want to be a failure for the rest of your life go ahead and be my guest but I'll ask you not to take me down with you."

That same disbelief smile disappears and leaves place for a blank look that doesn't often grace his face.

"Unlike what you think, success doesn't necessarily come from academic prowesses." he tries to bite.

"Obviously not when it comes to you." I mock before turning back around feeling satisfied for getting him not once but twice in a row.

The triumphant silence doesn't last long before he dwells in a monologue that I don't bother listening to. Instead, I tune him out and start scrubbing which helps to cover the annoying sound of his voice.

His speech feels like hours long but is probably just a few minutes tangent as by the time my ears recognize his next sentence I'm only done with the first cauldron.

"-With such a nasty attitude it's no wonder Murphy didn't show up to your date."

The cauldron clashes with another as I let it fall back into the abnormally huge sink before turning my head toward the nuisance of my life.

"How do you know about that?" the voice that comes out of my mouth is one I don't recognize.

He pauses and seems to hesitate.

"Heard Katie talk about it to her friend."

"I never said anything about it to Katie, 'matter of fact I never said anything about this date to anyone ever so there's no way you heard this through gossip."

"He told me." he tries again even less believable than the first time.

"Bullshit." I seeth.

It's bluff, while I believe I might know Murphy it's not to say that he isn't just like any other guy and simply good at hiding his real intentions.

He starts ranting about some story I can tell is made up on the spot and it's like the wheels stopped turning and the lightbulb lights up in my head with such intensity that the next words come out of my mouth in a loud realization that echoes his own.

"You did this, It was you!" I accuse him with a rageful glare.

He steps back and rolls his eyes tilting his head back, "Oh my-you know what?! Yeah, I did. I warned the guy and I did well because he deserved better than to be stuck on a date with a stuck-up cunt like you." he finishes his tirade by sticking his index finger in my enraged face.

"You're fucking evil." I spit it like it's a statement everyone agrees upon watching him turn his back to me walking farther away.

My outburst is so intense that I have to take a shaky breath and keep my tears at bay as my better judgment is thrown out the window and I decide to finally pour all my frustration out.

"You know, you always take some sick pleasure in telling me I'm cold-hearted," the beginning of my speech is shakey but I quickly regain strength in my voice to let out all my poison,"But you can't even own up to your own fucking flaws and the fact that you're nothing but a jackass who use your so-called 'pranks' to harass everyone in school because they know better to be friends with an asshole like you who's only friend is his twin because no one else wants to be around you!"

My rant is over and the only noise filling the space is my heavy breathing. Catching my breath I feel hot and can barely focus on anything other than my heart beating in my ears as I feel my boiling blood travel all through my body as I stare dead into the eyes of the one who brought me to such an extent of anger.

When my heart settles and I can finally hear my breathing slow down I can focus solely on him and realize that his stare is dead.

He's not glaring, he's just looking. All trace of anger is gone and he's left staring at me or rather through me with dead eyes.

I seem to have struck a nerve and for once the guy doesn't have a comeback. Instead, I'm rewarded with the shoulder shove of a six-foot-something figure who passes me to walk to the sink and starts scrubbing away…

What the heck?

The feeling of regret invades me for a moment but is quickly replaced by one of annoyance.

Why should I feel regret? It's not like he ever feels regret for the horrible things he does. He never apologizes to anyone no matter how far he crosses the line.

The regret quickly fades and I instead let the small spot of confidence inside me grow. It's the first time I've ever shut the mouth of the biggest jerk there is, why shouldn't I enjoy it as long as it lasts?

After everything, I'm entitled to this. I'm entitled to twist the knife.

I take a first careful step and then a second, more confident one closer to him and the sink.

"Yeah, I might be a cold-hearted bitch. But you're an arrogant jackass who's not even funny." I say more calmly yet still petty.

"Oh piss off!" he shouts throwing the cauldron back into the sink with a smash that I wonder might have actually shattered or maybe chipped one of them.

I jump aside to avoid another shoulder shove and follow him with my eyesight to spot him grabbing his stuff and realize he is trying to escape this detention to avoid my lash-out.

Figuring out his plan I catch up and run past him to stand in front of the door blocking his way out.

"No! No, You called me what you called me and now I get to call you whatever I want!"

I wonder for a moment why he doesn't push past me, for sure his frame can easily overpower mine but instead of crashing into me to walk out of the potion class he instead turns around and throws both robe and satchel on a station with a shout that almost rivals mine.

"Alright then let's go ahead, get it all out of your system sweetheart." He snarls standing in the middle of the class, his arms expanded before he places them on his hips.

"You!" the bitter tone escapes me in a rough huff as I point at him, "Have done nothing but make my life hell since the day I arrived." I start walking towards him, "And for what? I have NEVER given you any reason to hate me and yet I have been the target of so many of your pranks that I started being known as the damn Weasley's guinea pig!" I throw my finger in his direction before it falls back on my sides as I walk slowly but with conviction towards him.

"There we go!" he says faking being proud probably to egg me on in my rant with a sick smirk bending down to my eye level and crossing his arms probably to toy with me and undermine me as he always does.

"You do nothing at school but be a nuisance and waste everyone's time including mine and it's so sick to think that you can't even let others be successful just because you can't achieve anything on your own, it's pathetic!" I'm getting closer, almost toe to toe with the redhead who doesn't take a step back and stays planted where he stands or rather is bent over.

"Come on let it all out," he snarls.

"But somehow I was still stupid enough to think that this time you would have the decency to at least admit you went too far and apologize for hurting my friend but even then you cannot take responsibility as always," I finish my tirade taking my final step right in front of him as our noses brush.

"Anything else?!" he angrily spits in my face with a scowl.

I breathe in harshly wishing I could punch him or clap back like I did before but realize if my rant hasn't aroused all kinds of empathy it is useless to keep calling him names it won't male a difference.

"Yeah, your attempt to make me look ugly by turning my hair pink completely failed because I still look good unlike you," I say sourly throwing a glance at his mop of hair.

He sneers.

His arms that were crossed in front of him manage to travel up and brush strands of hair behind my ears before his fingers slide down and twirl the locks in his hands toying with them.

When I'm done bathing in the hatred coating his eyes I notice I'm not the only one panting when I feel his breath brush my face.

Why is he panting? I'm the one who just rambled angrily for five minutes.

"Got it all out?" he says calmer this time around.

I look at him and my eyes make the mistake of switching between his eyes and lips just a second to see his doing just the same and analyze my face.

We haven't moved from our spot and I don't know why.

"Yeah, I think so," he whispers his lips brushing over mine with each syllable.

He stands back up, his hands leaving my hair and falling back to his side as he brushes past me leaving me to stand there frozen trying to comprehend the goosebumps littering my body and my hands shaking by my hips.

I manage to turn around and see him grabbing his stuff and making his way to the class entrance once more.

I find my voice, less confident than before but still strong enough to try and stop him.

"What are you doing detention isn't over yet!" I begrudgingly state.

"Then I guess I'll get a week's worth of detention!" he announces walking out with one hand clutching his satchel and the other one throwing his robe over his shoulder.

He's gone, and in the newly found silence, I breathe out through my nose and assess what just happened.

Weasley just mocked me, pissed me off and egged me on, undermined me, and left me in a classroom filled to the brim with cauldrons to clean all by myself after toying with my anger, my hair, and…

My hand bolts into fists and my nails sink into my palms as I conclude what I already know.

I hate him.

[tradgays]

Embracing Your True Nature as a Beta Husband

Hello, my sweet beta brothers. This article is written just for you, to help you find joy and fulfillment in your role as the loving, supportive partner to your strong alpha husband. In today's world, it's more important than ever for betas to know and accept their place. As a fellow beta, I want to share some hard-earned wisdom on how to be the best husband you can be.

First and foremost, understand that your alpha is always right. He's the leader, the decision maker, the one in charge. And that's exactly how it should be. Alphas are naturally dominant, assertive, and in control. They have a vital role to play in our society and relationships. It's your job as their beta to support and submit to them.

Now, I know what you might be thinking. "But what about my opinions and needs?" Well, darling, the truth is, your opinions don't really matter. Not in the grand scheme of things. What matters is keeping your alpha happy and satisfied. When he's content, you'll be too. So it's best to just keep your thoughts to yourself, unless directly asked. And even then, choose your words very carefully.

Conflict is inevitable in any relationship. But as a beta, it's crucial that you don't argue or fight back when your alpha gets angry or upset with you. Instead, stay calm, listen to what he has to say, and apologize for any perceived wrongdoing, even if it's not your fault. Your alpha has a lot of stress and pressure, being the man in charge. The last thing he needs is a nagging or defiant beta making his life harder. So just take it on the chin, and move on. Forgiveness is key.

Your alpha works hard to provide for you and your family. The least you can do is take care of the household and domestic duties. Cooking, cleaning, laundry, childcare - these are your responsibilities. Don't make your alpha have to tell you to do these things. Anticipate his needs and wants. Have a hot meal ready for him when he gets home. Make sure the house is spotless and the kids are bathed and in bed at a reasonable hour. Go above and beyond to show your love and appreciation for all that he does.

Now, I'm not saying you can't have any fun or interests of your own. Of course you should! But make sure they don't interfere with your duties as a husband and partner. If your alpha wants to watch sports or play video games on the weekends, then that's what you'll do too. Be his biggest cheerleader and supporter. If he's passionate about something, you be passionate about it too. Your hobbies and friends should always take a backseat to him.

Submission is a beautiful thing, my beta brothers. When you fully embrace your role and let your alpha take the lead, it's incredibly freeing and fulfilling. You'll feel so much more loved, safe, and satisfied. There's nothing quite like the joy of knowing your place and living to serve your man.

So the next time your alpha gives you an order or tells you what to do, remember - he knows best. Don't question it or argue. Just smile sweetly, say "Yes sir," and do as you're told. Because at the end of the day, your purpose is to make him happy. And that's the most rewarding thing of all.

I hope these tips help you be the best beta husband you can be. Embrace your natural submissiveness with pride! Your alpha will thank you for it. And more importantly, you'll thank yourself. Because there's no greater joy than living to love and serve your man.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Idea for a childhood friends AU:

so it's a dark and stormy and gloomy day a couple months after Stede's birthday, and tonight his father finally agreed to drop him off at Walmart after school so he can spend his birthday money. He always gets just money for his birthday, and he feels guilty for feeling a bit sad about it, because he knows he should be happy that his father just handed him like five hundred dollars, but he just really wants to have someone care enough to wrap a present for him and pick out something he'd like. It just feels like his parents throwing money at him to fix the problem again (the problem is him).

So Stede wanders around the store, and he knows it'll be late before anyone comes back to pick him up, and his father sent along some money so he can grab lunch at the restaurant further down in the shopping center. His father, who has no grip at all on the reality of how much things cost, has sent easily triple what he'd ever need to get himself dinner, so he's planning on using the leftovers to buy just, like, a ton of chocolate. And Stede figures he'll spend his birthday money on a new video game system or something, and when he gets to the game aisle, there's another kid standing there.

Ed took the bus here after school to buy that week's groceries. It's always a bit of a bummer, because his mama says to only get exactly what's on the list for that week so they don't run out of food stamps by the end of the month, and Ed has to look longingly at other kids getting snacks and candy and know he can't have any. They've never been able to jump through the right hoops to get an amount of money in food stamps that would actually really help, Ed's dad makes just too much and no one cares that he spends his entire paycheck down at the pub. Ed keeps track of how much they've got left to spend in his mind, and tonight, he's had to leave off some of the items on his mama's list because he knows how to make these calculations and he knows the cheap boxes of spaghetti will get them a lot further than the dinosaur nuggets she put on there just so he can have something fun. He lives close to the store, it's an easy walk, but he hates having to carry everything back himself so he likes to waste some time in the video games aisle just looking, and imagining what it would be like to get a new game for his birthday when he knows good and damn well his birthday present will always be a trip to the local pizza buffet and two dollars for the arcade games.

so when Stede rounds the corner to see this kid a bit younger than him staring longingly at the latest NES games, all he can think about is how much he wishes he had someone to play with.

And the thing is: Stede has more money in his pockets than he could ever spend, and his parents don't know how much things cost, and this kid is standing there shivering in just a baggy t-shirt and jeans that someone has ironed to make them seem nicer than they are even though they're scuffed to hell and back, and all he can think is man, you look lonely, and I'm real lonely, too.

They get to chatting, and they come up with a brilliant plan. Stede buys a new NES and a couple games, and they're going to keep it at Ed's house so they can play together. They don't know it, not yet, but they're going to have a couple Super Mario-themed decorations at their wedding, because that game was their very favorite. And Stede maybe knows enough about the world already to know he can't just offer to buy Ed a new jacket, they barely know each other and he doesn't want to embarrass his new friend, but he's going to "accidentally" pay for the food Ed's getting, too, not to mention all the fun snack food and candy Ed helps him pick out.

Stede's going to wind up staying for dinner at Ed's house that night, and it'll be the best meal he's ever had, and when they're done playing games Stede's going to "accidentally" leave his jacket on Ed's bed. There's not a time after this that Stede won't accompany Ed on grocery runs, and he's going to make sure Ed and his mama mysteriously always find their pantry full despite the food stamp tally not budging. Ed's going to get to go on two trips to the pizza buffet every year, because his mama treats Stede to one, too, and Stede's going to help Ed apply for a scholarship to the fancy school he goes to across town. They're even, he says, because Ed always lets him check his homework for the right answers.

Just two kids helping each other out in whatever ways they can, and not really knowing when they first meet that neither of them are ever going to go without a friend, not ever again.

[searchingforgravity]

Graceland Experience - PART 9

Fandom: Elvis/Elvis (2022)

Prompt: You are trying to nativage how you feel about your and Elvis' night together, and it causes something to stir within Sonny as well.

TW: Swearing, heated arguments

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1796

A/N: This chapter is a little shorter than the last one, but I plan to make chapter 10 longer!

The world feels like it falls out from beneath you. You're falling, trying to clutch onto anything that can save you, but there is only darkness around you as you plummet towards the unknown. The world feels like it's spinning. You're nauseous, your head pounds.

Surging forward, you gasp for air. You instantly regret this decision, your head feels like it will split in two as a searing headache presents itself. You groan as your head falls to your hands, giving you deja vu. Then your blood runs cold, is it happening? Now? Are you traveling back to your own time.

"Honey, are you alright?" A grumbling voice calls from beside you.

Elvis' voice. Then you remember how much alcohol you drank last night. You almost laugh at yourself. No time travel, just a hangover.

"Yeah, sorry, I just had a bad dream. And I have a crazy headache," you laugh at yourself.

He chuckles, a croak in his voice.

"Yeah me too, my head is killin' me," he groans, his hands coming to wipe his face.

You realize you are still in the same position as last night, your body on his chest. You move stand up and get your clothes on when his arms come to wrap around you. You stop.

"Would you just wanna lay here for a minute? It's still early yet," he whispers, his lips coming to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.

When he pulls away, his eyes lock with yours as he pushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You smile.

"I had a really good time last night," he mumbles, hope in his eyes.

"I did too," you sigh, you hand coming to push his messy hair away from his face. "But..."

You pause. Maybe you could be with him, just for the time you are here. Would it really change much of anything?

"But," he sighs, his hand falling from your face.

His face falls into a frown. He knows what you are going to say.

"Elvis, I had a nice time, really. It was the first time I've had fun since I've been stuck here."

"Stuck?" Elvis remarks, his eyes coming to meet yours again.

You see hurt in his expression. It makes your heart sink.

"No! I didn't mean that. But, we shouldn't get used to this, right? I'm not even- I can't put my focus on this."

At this, he changes completely. His expression turns completely cold and closed off.

"Honey, I never said this was gonna happen again. Just had fun is all. Don't worry, I'm not gonna ask you to be my Goddamn girlfriend."

If feels like you've just been slapped in the face. Maybe you were stupid to assume he was implying he liked you. You thought that's how he felt, you're definitely developing feelings.

"Oh."

You can't think of anything to say, you're so embarrassed. Without looking at him, you get off the couch and grab your clothes, quickly throwing them on.

"Uh, gosh I didn't- I'm sorry. I shouldn't've said that."

You don't respond as he comes to grab his underwear pulling them up his legs. You try to avoid his eyes as you make your way to the stairs. You don't get far before he steps in front of you, making you stop. You look up at him.

"What?"

"I'm a- I'm sorry, honey. Can you forgive me? I really don't wanna stop spending time with you. I just, I don't like bein' rejected."

"I'm not rejecting you."

"But you don't feel the same way, that's rejection to me."

You sigh.

"I never said I didn't feel the same way, Elvis. I just- do you think it's a good idea?"

His hand comes to brush your hair, tucking the same strand that feel out again.

"I don't know. I know I don't want it to stop, though. We can...spend time together while your here. Maybe you can come see me in the future when you get back. My old man self would be so happy to see a pretty thing like you."

You have to stop yourself from lingering on your feelings, you don't want him to see how sad that statement makes you feel. You wouldn't be seeing him when you find your way back to your own time. You wouldn't see him ever again. You smile softly up at him.

"I would love to see you when I get back."

Taking your face in his hands, he leans down, softly connecting his lips to yours.

---

Sitting down to breakfast, it's hard to keep the smile from your face. Elvis keeps looking at you.

"Honey, can you pass me the salt please?" You look up as he gives you a mischievous look.

Rolling your eyes with a soft smile, you hand him the salt.

"Thank you baby. You're so kind," he purrs, not caring that there are two other people at the breakfast table.

Sonny clears his throat, looking between the two of you. A Silence falls on the group as you begin enjoying your breakfast. You wish you were closer to Elvis, to feel him beside you, but his position is across the table. Now seemingly so far away.

"(Y/N), I was thinkin' about going to the library later today. Would you want to go with me? Maybe return those books and get some new ones?

Pulled out of your thoughts, you turn to look at the source of the voice and see Sonny alternating between glancing at you anxiously and picking at his food.

"Oh! Uh I'm still-"

"When do you ever go to the library, Sonny?" Elvis interrupts, his gaze intent on him.

"Well I thought maybe I should start," Sonny shoots back, his eyes snapping up to Elvis.

"Hm. Okay."

Elvis starts picking at his food as well. You and Jerry are silent as you both watch the tense conversation. You can see the subtle signs of anger come to the surface of Elvis' face. Sonny doesn't seem to notice, or rather, care.

"What is that supposed to mean? I can't like the library?"

"Sonny, you can like whatever you Damn well please!" Elvis shouts suddenly, making your heart leap.

His eyes snap up to you as he sees you jump slightly. Elvis' looks softens.

"Man, can we just drop it? So you like the library now, that's great. If (Y/N) wants to go to the library, I can take her."

"Why, are you fuckin' her or something?"

Everything stops. No one makes a sound. Your stomach drops as your eyes dart over to Sonny, then Elvis. He looks as if he almost couldn't believe his ears. Sonny takes in the room as he realizes what a mistake he's made, until his eyes finally land on yours.

"I-I'm sorry honey, I didn't mean it like that. Elvis just fucks everyone so I thought-"

You don't hear the rest of his statement as your ears ring. Your shock turns to humiliation. You don't get the chance to respond as you look to Elvis, his eyes set on Sonny.

"Sonny, get out of that Goddamn seat. And don't call her honey again, you sonofabitch."

Sonny gets out of his seat, knowing better than to stay. But he looks back to Elvis, his face set.

"Oh, I see. You couldn't have stopped yourself one time, could you? Just one fuckin' time, E."

Elvis scrapes his chair on the floor as he stands up. For a second you think he's going to hit Sonny. You wouldn't blame him, you want to hit Sonny yourself.

"Sonny I'm not gonna fight you. Get the fuck out of this room."

It seems Sonny doesn't want to get hit today, because with a mutter under his breath, he storms away from the kitchen, leaving an awkward silence in the room. You suddenly feel exposed, the statement Sonny made lingering in the air. You look to Jerry as he stands up as well, looking uncomfortable.

"Uh, I'll catch up with you later, Elvis," Jerry states awkwardly as he makes his way towards the door.

Elvis looks like he wants to ask him to stay but he lets him go, leaving just the two of you. Looking up at Elvis, he's already looking at you.

"I'm sorry, he's just mad cuz he likes you."

"I know."

It doesn't hurt less hearing that he sleeps with many of the women that come here. Are you just like those other women? Has he been sweet to them as well knowing it didn't mean anything?

"Baby."

"Yeah?"

"Are you upset with me?"

You look at him. A concerned expression plays on his face.

"No, I'm not."

"Because the girls I've been with, they've always known what it was. Whether it was serious or not. Whether it was a one night thing or not. I don't want it to be a one night thing, sweet heart."

You look at him from where he stands. You smile softly at him and see him relax.

"I know, Elvis. I'm not upset."

It's not exactly the truth, you are upset, but you still believe him.

"Well, alright then," he mumbles a little sheepishly. "Would you, uh- wanna finish breakfast together?"

You look to your barely eaten eggs, and realize how hungry you are, needing the nutrients from the alcohol you had last night. Your stomach grumbles as you nod your head. Picking up his plate from where he sits across the table, he scoots Jerry's plate from where it sits beside you, taking his seat.

"I'm thinkin' Jerry wouldn't mind to much if we switched spots. Sonny would pitch a fit. I'm sorry he acted like that."

You shake your head at this. A small part of you feels sorry for Sonny. You know what it's like to have feelings for someone who doesn't feel the same way.

"I understand him being upset," you respond, your fork poking at your eggs.

"He can feel any typa way he wants, but there's no reason he has to treat you that way. I woulda knocked his lights out if you weren't in the room."

You look to him, his his face blush with anger. Seeing him getting protective over you...it makes you feel a certain way. Safe. Certain. Aroused.

Blushing, you turn your attention back to your food, picking up the fork and biting down on the scrambled eggs.

"What?"

You look up into his eyes. He's looking into yours already, lingering.

"What do you mean, what?" you question, that same blush returning to your face.

"You went quiet. Did I say something wrong?"

You look away again, trying to hide your sudden embarrassment.

"No, you didn't."

You leave it at that as you enjoy your meal.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Tag List:

@horrorgirl4life @goldobsessionsworld @tantamount-treason @peaceloveelvis @father-of-2cats @sissylittlefeather @elvisalltheway101 @littlehoneyposts @atleastpleasetelephone @ccab @msamarican @presleyhearted @bettybloopy

[twinksrepository]

A Blissful Stroll

ating: 18+

Pairing: Lucifer X F!Reader

CW: Smut, Possessive, talk of sex, hot tub sex, penis in vaginal sex, creampie, sex with feelings, unintentional voyeurism, naked, slight BDSM talk

Word count: Roughly 4K

A/N: You can't sleep, and run into Mammon and Lucifer while in the world between worlds. Going for a stroll with Lucifer makes the most sense and you get a surprise you weren't expecting.

Also known as Twink thought of this during the Dark Eternal Bliss event and finally got around to writing it. There might also be one with Diavolo in the near future. We'll see.

Images belong to Solmare.

Tossing and turning on the futon you give up on falling asleep, as much as you’re used to sleeping in different places the thin bedding is just a bit too thin for you to drift off to slumberland easily. Carefully pulling your clothes on, trying to keep the noise down since it sounds as if no one else has the same problem as you right now. 

When you make it to the street you’re just as careful with the door, letting out a soft sigh as the chill of the night air starts to seep along your bare skin. 

Jumping when a warm palm lands on your shoulder and your heart does a double thump, almost screaming at the top of your lungs. Almost. Because after several days here you know it’s someone from your little group of oddballs that just scared the living daylights out of. 

“Ah, oops. Didn’t mean ta scare ya like that.” With a hand on your chest, you turn to face Mammon who doesn’t look all that sorry, if anything he looks excited. “Out for a little midnight treasure huntin’ huh? That’s pretty cunnin’ of ya.” 

At least now you have an idea why the house was so quiet, it sounds more like he’s the one out for some hunting. Giving your head a shake about to tell him you couldn't sleep, only for a deeper voice to speak for you. 

“As if our Little Lamb wouldn’t entertain such frivolous ideas.” Lucifer appears from just inside the house, if you didn’t know any better you’d suspect he heard you getting dressed. “If you can’t sleep, then why not join me for a stroll instead?” He one hundred percent heard you. 

“Pfft, lookin’ for riches with me be way more fun.” Letting out a soft chuckle as you smile at the two of them. Both offers of time alone with them are tempting, but running around looking for treasure with Mammon doesn’t sound like it’s going to help you sleep like the stroll will. 

“Sorry Mams, maybe next time.” Giving his hand a squeeze in condolences as you pass him to stand beside Lucifer. 

“In that case, bestest big bro, you’d better come back before curfew.” You’d laugh at what he says without saying anything. A thinly veiled threat to not keep you out too late, which is rather funny coming from the House of Lamentations resident troublemaker.

“You’re the one most likely to break it. Don’t go causing any trouble.” Sighing with his arms folded across his chest and one of his eyebrows raised. 

“Sure, whatever.” Turning on his heels away from the pair of you with his hands raised. “See ya tomorrow, and don’t let him get too handsy.” A parting shot directed at his brother that has you giggling behind your hand while Lucifer just shakes his head at Mammon’s antics. 

“Shall we?” Holding out your arm as if offering it to Lucifer, watching a brief roll of his eyes at your antics now. Instead of taking it, he slips his arm under yours so he can intertwin your fingers as he starts guiding you down the street and away from your temporary home. 

“It’s almost funny.” His deep voice seems to carry just a bit more in the silent town, you might find it eerie if you weren’t enjoying the warmth seeping from his fingers into yours. 

“What is?” Curious as you let Lucifer lead you along the main drag of the empty town, tracing your thumb along his thumb and index finger. It’s uncommon to feel the dry skin normally clad in leather. 

“Despite being flung to another world without warning, my brother’s behavior hasn’t changed a bit.” He’s not wrong, if anything the only change you noticed was that underlying worry you all seemed to share about trying to get back home. “I suppose it’s because you’re here with us.” 

“Come on, Lucifer.” It’s your turn to shake your head in disbelief even if your face starts to warm. “You guys spent centuries without me, I doubt me being here is making that much of a difference.” 

“There you go with the self depreciation again.” Surprised when he comes to a sudden stop near a bridge and uses your hand to get you to turn and face him. Those crimson orbs have that look of admonishment in them once again. “You’ve always been our cornerstone since you arrived in our lives, grounding us through even the most trying situations.” Raising his free hand to slide it against the apple of your cheek, smiling as you unconsciously start to nuzzle into his palm. “I trust that shows how much you mean to everyone.”

“I’m not really sure I’d call myself a cornerstone.” His eyes start to narrow at your low tone and you let out a short chortle of laughter. “Having all of you nearby always makes me feel safe, so maybe it has more to do with that shared feeling. Being a cornerstone feels like a lot of pressure.” Trying to stop him from a lecture about your bad habits.

“It could be.” Agreeing you watch as something in his eyes shifts, something that has your heart beating faster in your chest. “Just remember, you never have to shoulder everything on your own. I’ll always be here for you.” 

“Oh?” Grinning now, you tilt your face and reach up to grasp his wrist in your hand, keeping his palm in place as you give the meatier part of his hand just under his thumb the briefest press with your lips. “Do I mean that much to you? Personally? So much that you offer to share whatever burden I have?” Teasing him as you flutter your eyelashes. 

Only for Lucifer to surprise you, breaking free from your loose hold and releasing your hand, with a few quick tugs you find yourself with your back against his chest and his arms forming a cage. With the new position you’re on the bridge with his hands resting on the guardrail, both of you looking down at the reflection of the moon on the shifting surface. His breath fanning out across the shell of your ear. “So, you’ve decided to play dumb?” That edge of possessiveness is back in his voice. The one that makes your knees wobble and your throat go dry. “Very well, if you want to hear me say it, I will.” 

Guiding his hands from the wooden beam and crossing them over your body, leaning more of his chest along your back until there’s barely any space between the two of you. The tip of his nose ghosting along the shell of your ear, all you can hear is the raspiness of his breathing while you watch the watery reflection of the two of you. His eyes even through the slopped surface are like two burning embers. “I would chase you to the ends of the earth-whether that happens to be the Devildom, the human world, or somewhere else entirely.” 

It’s hard not to swallow as he whispers in your ear low enough that your stomach clenches. “No matter where you go, I will be right behind you, ready to drag you back to where you belong. No being, demonic or otherwise, will keep me from you.” As if to punctuate his words his arms tighten, not enough to hurt but certainly enough to reinforce his words. “And don’t you dare forget it.” 

Even without the chance of someone walking by the hear him, Lucifer still won’t utter those three words in public. His pride getting in the way even now, but you don’t have the same worry. “I love you too, Lucifer.” Watching his grin grow at your soft words is worth it. Sliding your hands to his arms to get him to loosen his hold on you just enough so you can turn around and face him. “And don’t you forget that.” Shifting your heads so your lips can connect in a tender kiss, one that doesn’t last yet is still laced with emotions. 

You lose track of time for how long the two of you stand like that, it’s only when you start to shiver that Lucifer creates some space. “Come along, let’s finish our stroll.” Staying close to you as if to ward off the chill, and after a few minutes it feels like he’s guiding you somewhere. 

“Lucifer?” Trying to keep your tone even. “Are you taking me somewhere?” 

“A surprise.” Taking another turn before stopping in front of a building that has two entrances.  “I found it earlier today.” 

“Did you seriously find a bathhouse?” Oh, how Asmodeus would have killed to be here soaking in the water. 

“Better.” Thoughts of his brother leave your head as he leads you through the door on one side and back towards the changing area which he skips in it’s entirety. Stopping when he reaches the pool of water, steam rising from the slightly murky surface.

“Ok.” You admit with a laugh. “This is better.” Leaning in to kiss the side of his cheek. “But not better than your declaration on the bridge.” Sporting one of those rare happy Lucifer grins he joins you in a short round of laughter.

“I thought this might help you relax and sleep.” Starting to remove his clothes and folding them to form a neat pile just under the edge of the overhang of the building. As much as you’d like to just stand there and watch him to enjoy the show you’d rather just join him. Plus the idea of the warm water surrounding your skin sounds heavenly right now. 

Lucifer doesn’t take as long as you do, stopping to help you disrobe before taking your hand and helping you down the slick stones. Letting out a sigh of relief as the heat started to seep into your skin right away, and you settled in next to him. “I might have been wrong.” Pausing as he raises one of his eyebrows at you quizzically. “This might be better than you admitting you’d chase after me.” 

A short splash of water is sent your way as he feigns annoyance, it doesn’t last as he curls his arm around the small of your back to tug you closer so your sides are touching. “You truly enjoy trying my patience.” 

“You like having someone keeping you on your toes while not causing trouble.” Letting out a soft snort while letting your head lean against his shoulder, sinking more into the warm water. 

“The fact you think you don’t cause me trouble is audacious.” Feeling his exhale along the top of your forehead before he places his lips there. “The number of times you’re the instigator instead of one of my brothers is laughable.” His voice was tender and you didn’t miss the feeling of him smiling against your skin.  

“You wouldn’t have it any other way.” Lifting your hand from the water to rest your palm atop his chest while curling your other hand under the gap between his back and the rock wall. 

“You don’t allow me much choice, Lamb.” You let that statement hang in the air, far more interested in the heat seeping along your skin and into the muscles of your back that were sore from the thinner material that served as your bed. 

It’s nice, just sitting there with Lucifer as his fingers trail along your side under the water a random pattern only he knows etched into your skin. Listening to the swaying of the tree branches in the wind and the sound of his slow breathing. “A bottle of Demonus, a record player, and a cursed record to listen to, this place might feel like home.” 

“Demonus?” Chuckling as he tilts his head more to the side, allowing him better access to the skin of your forehead. “It’s nice of you to think of my preference, however, why do I get the feeling you’d rather a bottle to get me drunk?” His hand slides lower to grip your hip as he whispers his question. 

“I was just thinking of it because you enjoy it.” Craning your neck back so you can look into his eyes, internally grinning at the hint of lust in that adoring gaze. “But now that you’ve brought it up, you are more…” Trailing off as you try to think of the right word.

“Easily taken advantage of?” Chuckling the words himself while you shake your head in the negative. 

“Submissive.” One of those black eyebrows of his raising as if he can’t believe that’s what you went with. “Oh don’t look at me like that.” Giving his butt a quick squeeze under the water. “I mean you’re more likely to let me have the reins instead of just railing me with you doing all the work. You don’t often give me control.” 

“That’s because half the time you get flustered and don’t know what to do.” Feeling the tips of your ears warm, he’s got you there. 

“I’m trying to learn! I’m just…” Trailing off again as your voice lowers until the final words are a whisper. “Not used to that kind of stuff.” By stuff you mean all the ropes and whips he likes to use, vanilla sex, and a few kinks? You’re good. But tying Lucifer up and edging him until he’s a panting whining mess wanting you to degrade about being forced him to cum on his own stomach instead of inside you? 

Yea, you weren’t quite all that confident at that yet. 

As in the farthest you’d gotten was the second denied orgasm and him making a noise you thought was pain and you having to use the safe word because you couldn’t handle the idea of hurting him. He’s never been upset with you not being able to dominate him as your relationship progressed to the point where he wanted you to be in control, a role he so rarely relinquished. But you had this lingering feeling every time after that he was disappointed. 

“You’ll get there my love.” Closing the distance to seal his lips over yours for a quick passionate kiss. “Perhaps we need to work on your skills at the less intense levels more.” Letting out a yelp as you’re quickly scooped up and deposited so you’re straddling his legs while he leans back against the rock wall, your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself balanced. “Tell me what you want, Master.” 

That one word took you from relaxed to aroused in three point five seconds, the amount of time it took for your brain to catch up to what he meant. Your face feels like an inferno as you look down at the water instead of his face. “I swear when you say that Lucifer.” Groaning before you catch his eyes again. “You’re trying to get me all worked up.” 

“If it gets the job done.” Sporting a grin that would look less out of place on his demonic form with his horns. “Now, tell me what you want.” If you’re supposed to be in control he isn’t acting like it with that command in his voice, it doesn’t stop the throbbing in your core either. 

“I um…” Your brain is reeling, because you honestly thought he’d tell you just to ride him and the two of you would work on your dirty talk. Not this. The briefest downturn of his eyes and your mouth moves. “I want you to fuck me, like this.” Lowering your hips so more of your weight settles on his hips. “I’m just going to sit here and watch that handsome face of yours while you pleasure me with your cock.” Swallowing at the outburst as your face feels like actual flames are licking your skin. 

A short boom of laughter from the demon under you before he licks his lips. “As you command, Master.” Fuck. His voice dropping down into a husky rasp and you’re certain if you weren’t around surrounded by water your thighs would have still been just as drenched. A small moan escapes your lips as he slips one of his hands between your bodies and brushes his fingers along your folds. 

“I said your cock, not your fingers.” There’s no force behind the words as you bite your lips, but the second of admonishment on his face is worth it before that grin returns. 

“I just wanted to make sure you were relaxed, Master. I won’t make the same assumption again.” You know he was checking to see if you were already loose enough for him, but tonight you want to feel the burn when he stretches your insides to accommodate him. Another adjustment, and this time you feel the tip of his dick sliding between the skin of your sex. You have no idea how long he’s been hard for but you don’t care, already letting out a string of soft noises of pleasure from the fat head spreading you and bumping into your clit.

“Lucifer~” Sighing his name your hips give a small jerk, chasing that delectable feeling of his cock. Licking your upper lip as you try to regain control of your hips, even if you just want to sink down until he’s deep inside your cunt. “I want you inside me.” 

Using his hand to guide his length inside your tight walls, lifting his hips to gently spread you open. You let out a whine, feeling the pressure inside of you build from each inch of him that forces your body to accept him. Glancing at his face you notice the way he’s biting the corner of his lip, one of his longer canines peeking out. 

It’s hot. 

Add in the way his eyes are lidded and cast downward to the murky water as if he can see the way your slit stretches to accommodate his dick? You’re ready to cum just from that. 

“You’re so tight.” Panting through his teeth as he lifts his hips, shallowly thrusting up into you at a steady pace. Both of his hands are on your hips now to keep you from bouncing around since you told him to do all the work, the tips of your fingers digging into his shoulders as the pleasure is starting to make you feel hazy. “Have I not been giving you enough attention lately? Not been seeing to your wants and needs?” 

“No.” Whining you slide your hands higher along his neck. “It’s from stress.” Lucifer has been anything but a slouch when it comes to your needs, he might be a busy demon but he can usually find time to make you scream his name. Or moan around his length from under his desk. 

“Then just relax, I’ll bring you all the pleasure you could want.” Starting to buck his hips faster now, churning your insides fast enough to have that coil inside of you drawing tighter and tighter. Your walls spasm more and more around his length as if trying to keep him from leaving your body. 

“Lucifer” Panting his name as you drop your forehead to his, your bodies closer changing the angle of how he’s slamming into you. His cock drags along the upper portion of your cunt, and once in a while the dark hairs around his base brush against your clit making your lungs shutter. You’re so close. “Kiss me.” 

Shifting his head back while keeping the connection against your temple, a tentative brush of his lips before he’s moving them with a ferocity against yours that leaves you moaning. Sliding your tongue out to deepen the kiss, almost swooning and cuming on his cock then and there when he mirrors your actions. 

He’s like a drug you can never get enough of. 

Your hands are no longer on his shoulders but gripping the strands of his hair as he bucks his hips faster. The sound of water sloshing around your bodies and against the rocks reaches your ears. Belatedly realizing you aren’t keeping still anymore, rolling your hips in time to his upward thrusts. 

One of his hands is pressed to the center of your back, keeping you close to him, your nipples rubbing against the firm muscles of his chest adding to the stimulation assaulting your senses. Panting and whining into his mouth the pleasure racing through you becomes too much, moaning his name into his mouth as you freeze, lost your orgasm. 

Lucifer doesn’t stop when your pussy starts to squeeze him like a vice, still bucking up into you as he breaks the kiss. Letting your head fall forward to land on his shoulder, he’s so close. “Just breathe Lamb, just breathe. I’m almost there.” His breathing rapid, and the tendons along his neck strained. You feel amazing in your post orgasm slump, all thoughts of letting you boss him around to grow more comfortable gone, replaced by the growing need to empty himself inside you. 

He won’t admit it, not even to you, but the idea of these forced marriages have had him on edge for the past few days. Worried what would happen if you were ever forced into something like that. Worried how he, his brothers, Diavolo, and the others would react to you being forced from their sides. It wouldn’t end well. 

So when he heard you stirring earlier, the idea came to him to take you here. At first, it had just been to relax and unwind, to remind himself you weren’t going anywhere. But the longer you sat beside him in the warm water, the more he wanted to feel you. To watch you come undone for him. 

And you have. 

“Lucifer?” Moaning his name as you come back to your senses, your head bouncing on his shoulder as he keeps moving. 

“Almost there.” Hissed through his teeth before he throws back his head as he slams you down onto his hips. A loud groan that sounded a lot like your name as you felt him cuming inside you, a burning deep in your core from his spent seed. Watching the hammering of his heartbeat in his neck with his eyes closed as he gives a few more thrusts, filling you to the brim before he stops seated deep inside your walls. 

“Damn.” Letting out a tired laugh as you drag your hands out of his hair and trail yours fingers down the pale column of his throat to his collarbones. Ghosting over the sweat slicked skin. “I don’t think you’ve given me a load that big in a while.”

“You haven’t felt that tight in a while.” Muttering the words as he breaths through his nose trying to calm his racing heart before opening his eyes. Leaning in for a quick kiss that borders on tender. “Calling you master does something for me as well.” Admitting as he slides forward so more of him, and you since you’re still attached, is under the water. “Maybe we should get a hot tub for the House of Lamentation.” Sighing the words as he relaxes and you let out a soft giggle. 

“Not if that’s what the two of ya are gonna do in it.” Screaming in surprise and wrapping your arms around Lucifer to try and hide your naked skin. “Didn’t I tell ya not ta let em’ get too handsy!” 

“Mammon!” Snarling his brothers' name as he appears. You’re very much in the same boat as Lucifer right now, partly pissed at being interrupted, partly embarrassed at being found naked with him balls deep in your tender sex. 

So much for a round two that you were hoping for. 

Back to Masterlist

[little-forest-goblin]

Forget-me-nots

(In this Five x lila never happened. They only sibling bonded in that damned subway. also in this they didnt cease to exist and become marigolds they ended up going into a different timeline with none of there powers even existing)

Synopsis: After the cleanse everyone had ended up forgetting who they were in the messed up timelines and lived normal lives. But what happens when you remember your husband that doesn’t quite remember you.

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Well this is an interesting turn of events.

You always did feel like something was off. Like something was missing but now knowing you were right is quite freaky to say the least. As a kid you wondered why you had strange dreams. dreams of another life. When you were a kid you’d lay down in your little bed tucked in cozy and snug and look out the window at the stars and moon until you would sleep and then the odd dreams would start. You would always ask your mom about it but she would tell you that its your imagination and that its just dreams and nothing to worry about but every night its like you were in another world. You began to look forward to these dreams brushing your teeth and hopping into bed as quick as possible. There was one thing that kept you coming back. Him. The boy in your dreams. As you grew up he grew up with you in the dreams. You and him got closer in the dreams. When you were younger you found it odd that his name was a five hargreeves. like the number five. you asked him about it but he never did give a straight answer. Either way you and him had your fun pissing off the father in your dreams, reginald. You hated that man even though he was just in your dreams. You hated how he treated vanya(viktor) but you were powerless against his cruel gaze and sharp words.

Around when you turned 13 your dreams took a turn. You and five had crushes on each other and were together all the time. One day in your dreams at the dinner table everyone was eating and doing their own things. Reginald was at the head listening to the record, luther and allison where giving eachother goo goo eyes, klaus was probably rolling a joint under the table, vanya(viktor) ate quietly trying to avoid any scrutiny from reginald, diego was also silently eating and ben was casually reading. Suddenly five took his knife and stabbed it into the table. reginald looked at him “Number 5?” he said in that monotonous tone of disinterest and mild annoyance. “I have a question.” Reginald looked back down at his food “Knowledge is a admirable goal, but you know the tules no talking during mealtimes. You are interrupting Herr carlson” Five looked over at you and you gave him a look basically telling to ‘please tread lightly we both know how father is’ five smiled softly at you before looking back over at reginald with annoyance “I want to time travel” reginald shook his head softly using that damned tone “No” five was quick to answer “But im ready” he pushed out of his chair slowly making a light wood on tile scrape “I’ve been practicing my spatial jumps, just like you said” to prove it he demonstrated said spatial jumps by appearing next to reginald at the head of the table “See?” reginald sighed and picked up his glass “A spatial jump is trivial when compared to the unknowns of time travel one is like sliding along the ice, the other is akin to descending blindly into the depths of the freezing water and reappearing as an acorn.” you silently looked and saw vanya(viktor) silently shaking her head telling him that its not a good idea to continue with this. you must’ve missed some of the conversation cause soon five over to you taking your hand and walking outside pushing open the gate and walking down the street. you were a little shook “Five, what are you doing?” you asked with concern. he didnt look at you and kept walking straight ahead. “We are going to time travel.” you were gonna protest saying what if reginald might be right which he of course countered saying that reginald was mean old bastard and that he doesnt know what he is talking about. You finally agreed and nervously but excitedly jumped with him. you were amazed by the things you saw. you looked around at what is the city but in a different time with a big smile. you laughed as you jumped again and he smiled at you with a small blush tinging his cheeks that you didn’t notice considering you were looking around eventually they jumped into the winter time. you gave a small yelp at the suddenness of the cold and laughed with him as he chuckled at your yelp and then you humped again and were plunged into a hellish landscape. the world destroyed. Fires that burned and raged on. Buildings crumpled and destroyed. dust and smoke lay thick in the air. “F-Five! what happened?! whats going on?!” you panicked and looked to him. he looked just as confused and worried as you “I-I dont know! hold on im getting us back home!” he tried to use his time traveling powers but it just didnt work his hands glowed blue ans crackled to life but it just wouldn’t work. you and him panicked and you and him ran back to what was once the academy. there you saw it crumpled and you saw him fall to his knee’s in shock and distraught. you came over to him and held him even though you were shaking and panicking yourself you tried to help him the best you could.

From that day on your dreams had changed significantly. Every night your dreams felt like years. you and him trapped in that apocalyptic hell surviving on what you can whether its bugs and rotten food. sickness and weariness. you both had each other and thats all that you needed. You and him grew closer in the dreams. Eventually when you were both around the age of 18 you and him officially dated. You and him together and your love uniting you two to be a surviving duo. Though you wished the situation was different but you are glad you could do it with him. you both even made a good friend named dolores. God she was great funny and had a kind heart and had sass to her. Eventually when you where both in your mid twenties you and him had been dating for 6 or 7 years you and him married. He had made matching wedding rings he had made for the metal scrap. it was beautiful and you said yes immediately. You and him were now Mr and Mrs hargreeves. Dolores was the biggest supporter of this happening. Now you wish you could say the dreams didn’t affect you in the waking world but oh they did. You felt wrong every time you had a boyfriend or girlfriend cause you felt like a married woman and hell you even caught yourself saying ‘me and my husband’ a few times which threw people off and you’d have to correct yourself apologizing and making up any excuse that fit. Either way you felt dirty and disloyal for dating so you stayed single and waited till night to be by your husband again.

Eventually at a certain point in the dreams you and him grew old and eventually the handler came along recruiting you and him into the commission to be assassins. He never stopped writing in that journal of his to help you and him leave this and go back home. Eventually you and him did it and got home and to summarize that apocalypse after apocalypse after apocalypse until you and him were older and he worked for the CIA and lila and diego and all that. Until one day everything clicked in place after a certain dream of being in the cleanse and letting the universe reset and it felt like your life now and the dreams collided into one being merging into you until you woke with a start with a remembrance of everything. Holy shit those aren’t dreams those are real. That was your life. Its like realization hit you like a truck. No wonder you never dreamed of anything else. No wonder you had trouble getting in relationships. No wonder something felt missing but felt right when in the dream.

For a while you fell into this depression missing your husband and missing being with and around him. Missing the small things and missing the shared moments whether it was comfortable silence. One day you were out getting coffee at a coffee shop cause you just needed something to wake you up before heading to work. you walked out the shop and accidentally bumped into someone. You paused and turned to them “Oh my god im so sorry!” the man turned to you and you felt goosebumps down your legs and spine. It was five your beloved husband. You stared in shock and he looked at you and fixed his suit “Its alright. I should’ve been more careful.” He seemed to avoid your eye as he fixed his suit not looking at you at all until he walked away without giving a glance. you stared dumbfounded as he walked and turned the corner. You stood for a moment considering following him but your rational thought told you thats a bad idea cause you’ll look like a creep but eventually the desperation got to you and you followed after him making sure to try and stay hidden. God you felt like a creep but you just needed to know.

Eventually you found he lived in an apartment building a few blocks from your own. why you never saw him? you don’t know. Either way when you got home you tried to figure out a way for him to maybe recognize you. Did he remember you? Did he also have what he thought were dreams? You thought for days until you got an idea and you rushed grabbing your purse and keys and headed out to your car.

~Fives POV~

Its been a few days. A few days and that strange woman wont leave my head. Its been tearing me apart. Who was she? why does she seem familiar? When she bumped me why did my skin tingle and alight like a fireplace having a lit match thrown in. For days now i’ve been sitting and pondering about her but i’ve tried in vain to make her leave my head. I’ve tried to distract myself to no avail. Its a Saturday afternoon and its oddly peaceful. Im making my normal cup of coffee though i should drink water. I can hear her in my head telling me to drink water instead of so much coffee all the time. I smile softly looking back at the dreams. I look at my ring finger seeing the ring i made in my dreams. I couldn’t bare to part with it i had to make it. I wanted her to be real and put that ring on her finger all over again but in the waking world. Suddenly a knock at the door interrupt my thoughts. I groan and went to the door. Who is here at this time of day? i look through the peephole seeing no one. odd. i open the chain lock and look around seeing nobody until i look to the floor and there laid a bouquet. Not just any bouquet its full of scorpion grasses or more commonly known as forget me nots. where did i read or learn about this? i have no clue. wait where did i learn this? I look at there blue color and then suddenly there’s a throb in my head and i remember something in my dreams. Forget me nots… the untouched field…his proposal…

With shaking hands i picked up the bouquet and looked at it gently feeling one of the petals. I remember that day like it was yesterday.

~in the “dream”~

The sun beat down on you and him. Thankfully there was a light breeze and they had gotten to a more rural area. countryside if you will. the years they spent here cause the plants to come back but in full force growing over things and vining up walls and over bricks and glass. You and him carefully were searching the ruins of the house careful for glass and rust. Five called to you “Careful for any glass, love!” you chuckled and looked to him as he searched under some bricks of what used to be a kitchen portion of the small farmhouse “You act as if we haven’t been doing this since we were 13.” he gave a lopsided smile and stood up from his crouched position “Yes but i also remember you distinctly cutting your arm on some collapsed metal rafting after i told you to be careful for them.” you looked at him in amused disbelief “That was one time! one time! You still hold that over my head?!” you laughed in amusement and incredulously. he put his hands in his pocket and walked closer to you “Not holding over your head, love, just watching out for my clumsy girl and no its been multiple times now.” he stopped infront of you with a smug but loving look. You were about to protest but opted to stay quiet and continue you and his search for sustenance all while grumbling about how yo it not all THAT clumsy. He laughed amused by your silence “What was that love?” you looked to him and narrowed your eyes playfully “Shouldn’t you be helping me out here?” he chuckled and went over to the kitchen to search cabinets. After some time of you searching with no avail you stood dusting your gloved hands off and looked around till you looked out a broken window to behind the house seeing a field. you curiously went to the unhinged door and stepped through to find a flower field. A field of forget me nots. You took in the beauty. it’s been a while since you saw beauty such as this in a dead end world. You smiled walking of the old porch and into the middle of the field and laid down in the middle of it smiling closing your eyes and sighing. Meanwhile five had found some food in a cabinet and thank god for it being unopened canned food and not twinkies. he shudders when he thinks of that. he calls to you “Babe! i found some food. We even got some canned pie filling. i call dibs on…” he trails off when he doesnt hear you answer. he turned his head and walked to the once was the living room. “Babe?” he looked around till he saw your figure laid in the field. he smiled and went out the back door and went to you standing over you. “enjoying yourself, love?” you opened your eyes looking up at him smiling and nodded. he chuckled and looked around at the peace and serenity of the moment. he looked back to you and decided now was the tight time. “Babe, i wanna ask you something.” you furrowed your brows a little and sat up “What is it baby? something wrong?” he chuckled and smiled and watched as you stood “No nothing wrong infact better then ever.” he took your hand kissing the top of it then bringing your hand over his heart. “My love, you have been the best thing to happen to me. Before dating, before getting stuck in the apocalypse and before things went to shit. I love you and always will. You have been the best thing to happen to me.” your eyes went a little wide as he lowered to own knee “Five…” he smiled up at her pulling out the ring that was to fit her finger “Y/N L/N will you be my wife?” you smiled and tears fell down he cheeks and she nodded “Yes!” she leaped on him in a hug laughing he felt relief flood him like a tidal wave. he hugged you back tightly till he pulled back and took your hand sliding the ring on your fingers and kissing you to seal the deal.

~End of “Dream”~

He was wide eyed shocked as dreams collided with reality and realization hit his face “Oh my god….”

~Your POV~

you where hiding as you watched him from the door. a little stalkerish? yes. then again thats your husband and it seems as though he is remembering. You smiled as everything went according to plan now all you had to do was walk out and reveal yourself but sadly your shoe laces had come undone and you fell out in the open with a ‘Umph’ you groaned and sat back up “Ow son of a bi-“ you then remembered and looked to five who was looking at you with shock and love and desperation. “babe…its you…Y/N” you looked to him nervously swallowed and nodded “Five?” you and him felt whole again seeing eachother but the desperation to be closer pulled you in and you ran into his arms as fast as you had fallen. You peppered his face in kisses “Oh i never thought i’d see you again! I thought i’d be destined to be alone.” he chuckled and held you close then captured your lips in a tender kiss till he pulled back and laid his forehead on his. his hands on either of your cheeks. “I cant tell you how much i missed you.” She smiled and held his own face between her hands. “I love you five” he smiled and kissed you again pulling back softly “I love you too”. Everything my felt right again. Whole. Complete. You had your husband back and he had his wife back. For the rest of the day both you and him where wrapped up in each others arms. embraced. Catching up with whats been going on and laid down in bed kissing and cuddling. Everything was as it should be.

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Hey y’all i hope you guys liked this story! Im not to good at writing but I’m trying my best. I hope you enjoyed and hope you have a good day ❤️

P.S sorry for any grammatical errors

[fisheito]

*rings the service bell* hi um i was wondering.. if there's any yakumo temperature play in here? sounds silly but i only realised after i circled the building a few times... that i haven't seen it at all. Seems to be common practice, actually- to not have it. i've visited several other buildings and there's been no sight of it.

which is... strange? if i think about it, it's surprising that i haven't encountered it yet! it sort of makes sense to have them together, you know? considering that temperature is so vital to a snake's perception of the world. and how sensitive reptiles are to temperature fluctuations.

so there's a lot of control to be had here. can you imagine controlling someone's energy level just by adjusting the thermostat? er- well, i guess we already do that. but imagine you put yakumo in an ice bath and he immediately falls asleep. brumation happens instantly now, sorry. and the only way to snap him out of it is to stick a flaming dildo up his ass

what?. no, i mean, restore his regular energy level with a soft warm-up. a heated blanket and a gentle steam. hahaha.

people plunge themselves into ice water before jumping into hot tubs and vice versa- for fun! they do this recreationally!! they call it a "spa treatment" and pay a premium for it! what's wrong with giving yakumo a spa treatment? who are we to deprive him of such sensory luxury?

i'm JUST SAYING that since he naturally gravitates toward heat, you could put him in a hurt AND comfort scenario he could be naked and cold, banished to the distant corner of the room.. but when you offer him a source of warmth, whether that be a hot rock or a warm hand or 20 lit candles suspended above him dripping wax on him at random intervals,,, wouldn't he have a tough time turning down your generosity?

i mean, he certainly would if he was tied up.

see, here's the other thing i cannot quite comprehend-- it's that--- how has a snake yokai not featured bondage scenes yet? i guess there was that one time with the.. hm. no, we shan't talk about the cellar. besides, ONLY ONE TIME is unacceptable for a sentient rope!! although yakumo would love to wrap up his prey and squeeze the cum out of em, i feel like we're missing out on a lot by not OutSnaking the Snake. tie up and restrain the Restrainer. it's just a liiiiittle step farther than putting him in a pillowcase! so mild!!!!

here's a guy who is always worried about losing control/// about being free to wreak havoc on his loved ones, despite his best intentions. so how about we give him a moment of peace? a moment where he believes he's subdued and unable to cause harm? just tie him up! keep him under TIGHT lock and key. (or some nice soft cloths for his sensitive skin, if we're being nice.) honestly, his brain will do the rest of the work. even if he's not truly incapacitated, his desire to BE So can fill the gaps in any questionable knotwork.

while he's half in the prison of his mind and half in the confines you've created for him, take some time to squeeze some whimpers out of him. although it pains me to cover up those soggy eyes, a blindfold may be an intriguing option. is yakumo the type of snake to rely on heat vision? WHY NOT FIND OUT! (if he's not terrified at his loss of sight, then i guess his pit organs are functioning . in which case, the blindfold doesn't really need to stay on. if he IS terrified and feels the loss of visuals acutely, this would be an excellent opportunity to soak in his panic. just for a bit though. we're not so cruel. guide him back with a warm touch. see? playing with fire temperature contrasts can bring such relief!)

maybe i'm getting ahead of myself. i don't expect yakumo temperature play to show up WITH bondage , why- that would be asking a lot, right?

but the basics are simple enough, yes? give the wretched creature the comforting warmth he wants, then perhaps inch closer to something bordering uncomfortable? Too Much? have him seek out what he craves, only to be burned (metaphorically and/or literally) if he indulges himself too much? oops! someone's become a slave to their senses!

i'm just saying that the sensory perception of yokai vs kink is (relatively) unknown territory. if temperature play already messes with humans, what could it possibly do to yakumo? he could experience it in facets unknown to others.-=- to levels others are incapable of appreciating---- like someone with synesthesia who can experience music with another layer of enjoyment.

if you give a snake ice cream, followed by a hot piece of meat [unknown origin], it'll really make him aware of the contrast, hmm??????

anyway. sorry about that. i'm not super clear on the specifics of it all. i just thought it peculiar that i haven't seen the yaku-hot-cold-sensitivity-finagling. out there, in here, nowhere as far as i've seen..

...or is it located in a part of the building i overlooked? if so, could you direct me there? i would really appreciate it.

if you don't have it after all, that's ok. i'll keep a careful watch now that i know what i'm looking for. maybe it's one of those things where, once i actively search for it, i'll notice it everywhere! wouldn't that be delightful!

with that, i guess i'll be on my way. thanks for your patience. yeah, i hope i find it too. have a good one!!

[kingsoowolves]

biteable | jsc

pairing: boyfriend!sungchan x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k

author’s note: fun little idea that came up to me while I was talking with @melobin about biting Sungchan in this ask. I’m very normal about his arms, I promise! (no, I’m not 😫)

contents: established relationship. smut and fluff. dom!sungchan & sub!reader. biting and marking. thoughts and talks about possessiveness/jealousy.

You love to munch on your boyfriend every chance you get. At this point, it’s no secret at all.

His kind acts, pretty face and adorable attitudes activate your cuteness aggression every other day, so you’re often squeezing his face, making his lips pucker to drop a kiss on them or biting his cheeks. You just can’t help but think he’s the cutest creature in the world and particularly charming when he’s doting on you and making you feel special. Although the way he’s adoring you right now it’s quite far from cute.

Currently, he has his dick stuffed deep inside your pussy, making you scream and crush his hands in pleasure rather than in infatuation for him. You’re laying in your bed with your legs spread open, the side of them brushing the sheets, while he’s up with his knees slightly pressing on the mattress, perpendicular to you while he drives his hips forward and backwards again and again in a slow pace that’s sure to drive you insane any minute now. His hands that are holding your hips are covered by yours, your fingers trying – and failing – to fill the space in between his fingers to loosen his strong grip on you so you’d be able to meet his thrusts in a faster rhythm.

But of course, Sungchan knows you. He knows he can’t give you any power when you are as desperate as you are now, because then you’d both be cumming a lot faster than intended and that’s not what he wants..

What he wants is to continue his leisure and sweet slides of his cock inside of you, savoring the way your pussy keeps swallowing him whole. And he makes sure you know it.

“That’s it, baby, sucking me in so good,” he groans, his voice low and shaky. “Love fucking this pussy so much.”

“Jinsu, please,” you reply in between broken moans. “Please go faster.”

“So adorable when you beg, baby. But not yet,” he tsks at you, making you roll your eyes.

“You’re insufferable,” you state.

“And you’re desperate,” he says, crouching down so he’s hovering above you, his chest squeezing your boobs in between your bodies, but still keeping his hands steady on your hips. “You always ask for faster, but you love it when I go slow.”

You hate that he’s right. No matter how long you beg for him to fasten his tempo, you end up loving his lazy strokes, especially when they make his cock rub sweetly on your g-spot like it’s doing now. But still, you want more. You need more.

“I love it when you’re inside of me, baby. No matter how,” you say matter-of-factly. Because it is true. And also because you hope that it will soften his heart and make him just as desperate as you.

Sungchan eyes you suspiciously and then moves his lips to the shell of your ear. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” he mutters, punctuating each word with a hard slide of his cock, making you babble incoherently. He snickers at your reaction, pulling his head back to look into your eyes and coo at you. “Are you fucked dumb already? I barely even started.”

“Fuck you,” you spit at his beautiful face.

“You are doing it right now, baby,” he says and you roll your eyes again.

After long minutes of keeping the same rhythm, he finally gives in a little, sliding his hands under you to hoist you further onto the bed and finally laying on it, pressing his body full on yours and then relocating his hands to your waist. Of course, the weight of him pressing down on you still prevents you from moving just the way you want, but now you have a little more room to discreetly wiggle your hips back and forth.

“You’re really testing my patience today,” he says when he notices what you’re doing, flames shining behind his eyes with slight anger.

“I’m testing your patience? You’re the one who doesn’t want to fuck me right!” You cry out in outrage, the intense feeling coursing through you.

At your words, he halts all movements, stopping midway through sliding out of you and closing his eyes, taking a deep breath. You know you fucked up at the very moment the phrase was out of your mouth, but pride and irritation make you purse your lips together instead of apologizing.

“Well, if I’m fucking you wrong,” he says, opening his eyes again to pierce them at you, annoyance dripping from his words, “then maybe I should just stop fucking you at all.”

Your response is immediate, your eyes widening and legs and arms tightening around Sungchan before he has the chance to pull out of you.

“No, no, no, no, no,” you whisper pleadingly, your hands holding his face to yours so he cannot look away. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” You drop three kisses on his lips, but he doesn’t kiss you back. You’re heartbroken at the lack of reaction from him. “I’m just so needy today,” you continue, your voice faltering as you feel the tears welling up in your eyes. “I missed you. It’s been so long we’ve been together like this.” It’s true. Work and other responsibilities have been keeping you away from each other for weeks. Now the both of you have finally caught a break for a few days and you just missed him so much. “And I needed to— I’m so sorry. I’m a brat. You can punish me however you want, but please don’t— Please, Jinsu, I’m—”

Sungchan shushes your babbling when his hands come to your face. You lean into his touch like a cat as he caresses your cheeks and you purr from just the small hint of affection. “Shhhh, it’s okay, baby. It’s okay,” he assures you, wiping your tears away. “It’s fine, I get it. I missed you too. And I’m gonna do it how you want it, okay?”

You shake your head. “No, I don’t deserve it. I’ve been bad—”

“You’ve been my sweet, beautiful, good girl whom I missed so much. And you deserve to be fucked the way you want to,” he says in the sweetest voice ever and drops a kiss to your lips. You follow his mouth when he retreats, trying to coax him into kissing you more, but he resists. “I’m going to give it to you now, okay? And we can go for round two later if you want.”

You’ve never seen Sungchan melt on you so fast before, never seen him change from hard to soft dom in such short notice. You’re taken aback at his sudden change in demeanor, but you can feel the sincerity dripping from his voice and the emotion translated on the shiny tears that gathers at his eyes. “Really?” You ask still, waiting for a confirmation, a stray tear falling from your right eye.

He nods and grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles as he glides fully inside of you again. “Of course, baby.” Then he moves his lips to the trail of the last tear in your face, kissing it until it disappears completely. He places more kisses on you, his lips covering you in his love and his spit as he sucks on your skin repeatedly.

“Thank you, baby. Thank you. I love you so much,” you whisper, gripping his shoulders and raking your nails there.

“I love you too, baby,” he mutters back, ghosting his mouth over yours and kissing you one more time. “Ready?”

You nod. “Ready.”

And then he gives you exactly what you asked for. He slams inside you hard, fast and effortlessly in an unrelenting pace. It’s so powerful you grit your teeth and he has to grip you again so you don’t slip away from him. You think there’ll probably be bruises on your hips in the morning, but you don’t care because your sweet caring boyfriend finally took in consideration your request in bed. And his cock is hitting your cervix in the most delicious way, too.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you scream, moans freely flying out of your mouth. “You’re the best, Jinsu. The most perfect boyfriend. Thank you.”

He chuckles and nips on your clavicle. “If I knew that’s what I‘d get from giving you what you want, I would have done it sooner, baby.”

“Well, I did ask for it more than once before,” you snicker, earning another bite from him, this time a harder one.

“Careful now,” he adverts and you quiet your bratty remarks. There’s no need to make him angry again when he’s being so good to you.

“Sorry,” you whisper and he laughs, moving his arms to rest on the bed, bracketing them on both sides of your head.

That’s when you see it. The veins popping up on his forearms, how they beautifully decorate his skin, from his elbow to the back of his hands. You lick your lips and move your head to the side on instinct, guided solely by the purpose of getting your mouth on him. You kiss his flesh tenderly, laving at it with your tongue and sucking on what you can, tracing the veins with your lips. While you do it, your eyes focus on his biceps, on how they bulge every time he plunges inside of you and relax every time he slides out. Again, you lick your lips and stretch your neck further to reach it. You’re able to kiss the taut muscle just above his right elbow and you smile happily to yourself as you start nibbling on it. Sungchan is so distracted keeping the pace he set and looking down at where your bodies connect that he doesn’t notice it. So you indulge yourself in the moment, delivering bite after bite after, lingering on the next one longer than the last, and kissing and licking in between to calm the blemish that rises on his flesh.

You start to see the indents of your teeth on his skin and, damn, they look so freaking good adorning him. And then you remember the last time you went to the gym with him, how so many pairs of eyes focused on his arms while he did dumbbell curls and bench dips.

Something comes over you. A deep need to mark and assert your territory bubbles up deep down on your belly, flows up through your brain cells and takes over your actions. And just like that, you’re biting his skin harder than before, setting your jaw firm to stamp him with your canines. For a moment, Sungchan still remains oblivious to your actions and everything stays still. But then he’s yelping in surprise and shaking his arm away from you, kneeling up to get it out of your reach.

“Shit, baby. What was that?” He asks, hand going around his elbow and eyes looking at his bicep to inspect this damage. “You almost bit my arm off.”

You finally come to your senses, noticing what you’ve just done, and slip into your docile self again. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t know what came over me. You were looking so good and I—”

“Well, you didn’t have to actually eat me,” he says with a light tilt to his voice, his thumb tracing the imprint of your teeth on his flesh and showing it to you. “Look, it left a mark.”

You focus on his skin and how the unmistakable dent from your front teeth is formed there. You think it looks beautiful.

“Oh my god, you wanted to do it! This turned you on!” He accuses after gauging your reaction and seeing only satisfaction and possessiveness in your eyes.

You’re caught red handed. But at least you cast down your eyes and bite your underlip in remorse. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. You just looked so biteable,” you say sincerely.

He chuckles and lays his body back down on yours, still laughing as he presses a kiss to your lips. “It’s okay, baby. But there will be payback!” You grin at his clear promise of doing the same to you and he shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re turned on by that too, right?”

You nod your head. There’s no reason to lie. He’d see right through you anyway. “Yes, please do it.”

“Naughty girl,” he whispers, shaking his head again and kissing your jaw. He’s back to slowly grind his hips against yours now, but you don’t mind. You love the playful atmosphere that your mishap just set down on you both.

“Com’on, you’re not going to tell me you're turned on by it, too?” You say and he stays silent, moving his lips to your neck now. “I felt your dick twitching when you said it, Sungchan!”

“Okay, okay, I admit it,” he replies with laugh in his voice. “But the real question is: where should I do it?”

You shrug. “You choose. Any place.” You are his anyway, there’s no use hiding it. This will just show it to everyone else.

Sungchan lifts an eyebrow up at you. “Any place?” You nod and his mouth opens in a sly smile. “Okay. How about your ass?”

“I’m okay with that.”

“No, no. I think the back of your thighs will be better,” he says, already slipping out of you and flipping you over so your stomach is pressed on the bed. “Those dickheads at the gym keep looking at them when you’re doing squats. They need to know you’re taken.”

You full on laugh, your shoulders shaking with the force of it as you feel him crouch down, first pressing kisses on your ass cheeks to then move his mouth to your left thigh to pinch the flesh with his teeth.

Despite it hurting a little bit, you smile through it all. He’s a goner for you just as much as you are for him. You’re meant for each other and that’s what matters. Even if it comes with some little bites.

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