#display reader

[sw5w]

Obi-Wan Lowers His Hologlobe

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:36:56

I combined two of the sources that name the round device Obi-Wan handles here: the Attack of the Clones novelization by R.A. Salvatore calls it a hologlobe, while the Attack of the Clones junior novelization by Patricia C. Wrede calls it a portable display reader.

Highlighted text from pages 160 and 164 of the Attack of the Clones novelization by R.A. Salvatore.

Highlighted text from page 73 of the Attack of the Clones junior novelization by Patricia C. Wrede.

[buttdumplin]

yeah simon is the one to scare people away when they get too close you, using his size and movement to intimidate, simultaneously shielding you behind him

yeah soap is the one barking loud, creating a spectacle and calling people out, and warning them away

yeah kyle is the one humiliating people, mocking offenders until either their own actions dawn on them or they finally recognize the venom in his eyes

but price is the one that launches into swinging. there is no warning, no hesitation. taking a step, even a single word against you, warrants immediate action in his mind. it's no laughing fucking matter. you are a top fucking prize, his prize, the best the world has to offer. john is rabid in his protection, bearing tooth and boot and claw and fist. there’s no point in talking to him or trying to negotiate, an offense is an offense and he won’t meet it halfway. someone looks at you the wrong way? they won't be able to see out of swollen eyes after headbutts them, crushing their nose. someone whispers something nasty about you? good luck even eating with that jaw wired shut. god forbid someone touches you, the other three boys can barely hold him back. john will break countless bones in every way he knows and beat his knuckles bloody if your smile starts to drop. 

[saintobio]

“THE COLONEL AND THE NURSE”

Military Archive Record No. 2734A — Circa Final Offensive, WWVI Colonel Caleb Xia — 5th Skyborne Division, Commander of the Farspace Fleet, DAA Fighter Pilot | KIA, Unrecovered Field Nurse Y/N L/N — Combat Medic, 3rd Allied Medical Corps | Survivor, Honorably Discharged Stationed: Underground Military Base, Zone A-9 Classification: Public Display Approved / Declassified Archive

from the colonel series.

[anto-pops]

Bitter Truths - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: Following the revelation that Sebastian has gone back to dabbling in the Dark Arts, you end things with him and try your hardest to stand firm in the decision. He has no intention of making things easy for you, however, and he’ll manipulate any situation to his advantage if it means getting you back on his side.

Even if that means manipulating you.

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, dark!Sebastian, emotional manipulation, explicit sexual content

Full fic is also up on Ao3 here for your viewing pleasure

You weren’t sure who you hated more. Professor Sharp for refusing to hear you out following the disaster in potion’s class, or your idiot of an ex-boyfriend for causing said disaster in the first place. 

There was absolutely no reason for it either. Even though the two of you hadn’t talked in a week, you liked to think you were familiar with his tendencies in school. Helping Garreth with his obscure, insane ideas had never been something Sebastian made a habit of doing, which just left you all the more frustrated. 

He had clearly landed you both in trouble intentionally. 

Following your fifth-year, you had dutifully stayed firm in your boundary that if Sebastian so much as glanced at anything pertaining to the Dark Arts, you would cut your losses and leave him to deal with the consequences. For too long, you had wallowed in self-pity at the blatant way you had let him take advantage of your kindness, manipulating you into helping him essentially get away with murder. The broody persona he had returned to Hogwarts with your sixth-year had led you to believe that he wouldn’t listen, but he had proven you wrong. Bending over backwards to get on your good side, you had eventually relented and let him back into your life, and that inch given quickly turned into a mile earned when both of you started dating.

After making it through the entire year without a glimpse of his former habits, you had mistakenly assumed your final year of school would be much the same. For the most part it had been– until last week, apparently. 

You had found Salazar Slytherin’s spell book in his dorm. 

It had been well hidden, too; charmed to look like an ordinary textbook, then wrapped in one of his old scarfs and stuffed at the bottom of his trunk. Call it a gut feeling, but you had known something was going on with Sebastian even before finding the book he’d sworn up and down he had destroyed years prior. He would stay out well past curfew, coming back looking anxious and worn down. The far off look in his eyes you had seen towards the end of your fifth-year had returned, along with the dark circles under his eyes that told you he wasn’t sleeping much, if at all. 

Most damning of all had been his three day absence from school. Sebastian had said the Ministry had summoned him to London to finally sign over the deed to Solomon’s old house in Feldcroft to him. An innocent enough excuse, and a believable one when it had been relayed to the Headmaster and to the faculty… but not to you. 

Sebastian wanted nothing to do with that house. He had told you so himself numerous times. 

So why was it that when he’d returned to Hogwarts after those three days, the barely there scent of Dark Magic accompanied him?

Gaslighting yourself into believing that you were imagining things had been difficult, but you’d managed to convince yourself that it wasn’t real– that the rotting, smokey scent that had clung to his clothes for that brief moment was a trick of the wind. But then you’d found the book.

After throwing that stupid spell book in his face and swearing at him with every curse-word that existed, you’d followed through on your promise to him. You ended things then and there, too angry and too irrational to even take the time to hear him out when he’d begged you to. 

“Please just listen to me! It’s not what you think, darling, I swear. I was only–”

“I don’t give a damn, Sebastian!” If looks could kill, the glare you shot his way would have had him collapsing on the spot. “I don’t need to hear the lies or the justifications. You lied to me. You told me you were done with this shit, but apparently that was a fat load of crap. I can’t even look at you right now.” 

Turning away from him to reach for the door handle, you yelped in alarm when his arm shot past your head to hold the exit shut. You spun around, eyes wide with shock and anger, and met his stormy, frantic gaze. He was unrecognizable; his chest heaved violently as he drew in quick breaths one after another, and his mouth was drawn in a tight line across his face. Coiled tighter than a spring, you worried that he would snap with you in his crosshairs, and that thought induced a kind of fear that you hadn’t felt since your fifth-year. 

“You need to let me explain,” he grit through his teeth. You heard his nails scrape against the wood of the door as his hand curled into a tight fist, and the sound snapped you out of your momentary stupor. 

Planting your hands squarely against his chest, you shoved him away with the strength of a Troll, sending him stumbling back towards the middle of the empty dorm with a look of disbelief etched across his face. “No,” you turned back for the door, wrenching it open and flinging it behind you as you stepped into the hallway. “I don’t.”

He had tried and failed to speak to you since then, but you had gone out of your way to avoid him as much as possible. You found yourself sitting with Poppy and Natty during mealtimes, and you’d skipped a few classes altogether to spare yourself the torment of having him try anything there. If your friends knew something was wrong with you, they didn’t comment on it, and you were immensely grateful for their willful obliviousness. 

Unfortunately for you, however, you had underestimated Sebastian’s ability to manipulate situations to his advantage. 

Even after two years, Garreth hadn’t stopped concocting his… unique brews. It was a gamble to walk into Professor Sharp’s class and assume that nothing would blow up in his face that day. You knew it, the Professor knew it, everyone knew it. 

So why Sebastian had seemingly gone out of his way to help Garreth this time around told you enough about his unwillingness to let you go quietly. 

There was no way of knowing what he had given Weasley to add to his Restorative Drought at the beginning of class, and quite frankly, you didn’t care. The exchange had transpired right before you eyes, and whatever thick goop Garreth had dumped into his cauldron had caused an explosion that put all his past fuck-ups to shame. Instantly the room had filled with a pungent gas that was so foul and nauseating, Natty had been forced to run out into the hallway to expel her lunch from her stomach. In the midst of your own gagging you had pulled out your wand to cast Ventus, a wind charm that collected the bulk of the gas into a concentrated funnel that was then directed towards the open window in a bid to clear the room. 

Your plan would have worked… had Professor Sharp not blocked the magically condensed jet of putrid air with his face. 

To say he’d been angry would be a monumental understatement. The palpable rage that had radiated from him was a deadly sort; simmering beneath the surface, powerful, and silent. He had wasted little time after that in docking you, Garreth, and Sebastian fifty house points each before sending the three of you away to detention for the evening. 

Garreth would have attended… had he not gotten violently ill following the debacle. He hadn’t even made it down the hall outside the room before folding over on himself and vomiting profusely all over the floor. Evidently he had taken the brunt of the eruption and was left to cope with the aftereffects. You didn’t envy him. 

Nurse Blainey had apparently promised that her patient would make up the detention as soon as he was done throwing up the contents of his stomach, which had ultimately left you stuck in Professor Weasley’s classroom alone with the current bane of your existence. 

You knew it was pure chance that Garreth was unable to sit in detention with the two of you, but for some reason you were convinced that Sebastian had seamlessly orchestrated the whole thing. 

The bastard was probably feeling awfully smug about it, too.

Sebastian sat at the table furthest from you, boring holes into the side of your head that you were doing your damnedest to ignore. The only thing that likely kept him from outright trying to speak to you was Professor Weasley anally watching the two of you like a hawk in-between grading reports. She had already scolded the life out of you both, taking additional time to chastise Sebastian, because apparently she had seen him in detention “far too many times this semester”. Yet another thing he had kept from you, evidently. It didn’t even seem like he had taken the reprimanding to heart if his slack posture and disinterested expression was anything to go by, but you were too angry to pay it any mind. 

This was shaping up to be the longest three hours of your fucking life. 

The chipped wood on the edge of the desk continued to captivate your attention in favor of meeting the brunet’s unrelenting stare. Your jaw ached from how hard you’d been clenching your molars together, and your leg had cramped up twice now from bouncing it to rid yourself of the jitters that plagued you. You were prepared for the bulk of the detention to continue like that; slowly, suffocated by a tense silence, and wholly uncomfortable. That is, until the door to the classroom was thrown open rather aggressively. 

Looking up from your desk, you watched as a nurse from the Hospital Wing barreled through the entryway, her hair disheveled beneath her bonnet and her glasses crooked atop her nose. She sucked in a sharp breath before straightening herself out and saying, “Matilda– I’m so sorry. Nurse Blainey asked me to fetch you. Your nephew is… well, he’s in quite the state.”

Professor Weasley took her own glasses off to pinch the bridge of her nose, heaving a heavy sigh before muttering, “Merlin, that boy will be the death of me, I swear. Is he alright?” 

“He’s– well…” the nurse trailed off, nervously wringing her hands together as she searched for the right words. “He’s alive, but whatever he added to that potion is causing some… concerning side effects. He has four arms and quite a few extra toes presently.” 

“He what?” Professor Weasley abruptly swiveled her head in Sebastian’s direction, fixing him with an incredulous look that he had the good grace to shrink at. “What exactly did you give him to add to that potion?” 

Stubbornly, you watched through your peripheral vision as Sebastian shrugged nonchalantly before murmuring, “Just troll bogeys. He didn’t tell me what he was trying to accomplish with them, though.” 

Pointedly, Professor Weasley rose from her seat and walked around her desk, brushing a few wrinkles out of her skirt as she strode for the door. “I’ll save my questions about how you got your hands on such a thing for after I get back. In the meantime, don’t even think about going anywhere. Both of you.” 

You could only furrow your brow indignantly before she had turned her attention back to the nurse. The woman spun on her heel to lead the way without a second glance, and as soon as the massive door clicked shut behind them, your heart sank into your feet. 

You were alone. With him. 

An uncomfortable feeling emanated from within the room, the air ripe with tension thick enough to cut with a knife. It took everything in you to keep your eyes averted at your desk before deciding to simply put your head down against the wood. If Professor Weasley was bound to be preoccupied in the Hospital Wing for the remainder of the evening, you could at least catch some shut eye in the meantime. The events from the last week had taken a toll on you mentally, and you were beyond eager to wrap up the day so you could fall into your bed and sleep. 

It couldn’t have been thirty seconds before you felt the table jostle as the culprit of your misfortune made himself comfortable next to you, and with your face still hidden in the crook of your arm, you pursed your lips in blatant distaste. 

Maybe if you pretended to be asleep, he would give up? There was no way he actually thought that there was a conversation to be had after everything he had done. Aside from a handful of inappropriate, choice words that were unbecoming of a lady, you had nothing to say to him. 

Evidently, it seemed that Sebastian thought otherwise. 

“We need to talk.” 

Merlin– even though you had heard his voice around school in the last seven days, having it directed at you while he used that deep, commanding tenor was another thing entirely. A weak, naive part of you was inclined to listen, but you stubbornly burrowed your face deeper into your arm and somehow pressed your lips together even harder. No, you thought, we don’t. 

“Either you talk to me now while we’re finally alone in here, or I’ll drag you to the Undercroft afterwards. Willingly or not.”

At that, you sat up to glare incredulously at him. The unmistakable conviction in his voice and the obstinate tilt to his chin confirmed that he wasn’t lying in the slightest, and he crossed his arms over his chest as though daring you to call his bluff. 

He wouldn’t…

“I would,” he countered your thoughts with narrowed eyes, which in turn resulted in another unamused glare from you. “I’d be an idiot not to try when you’re finally in a position to listen. Especially considering you’ve avoided me like the plague all week.” 

The audacity of this man. How dare he make you out to be some heartless villain. His status as a pariah in your eyes was his own doing, directly caused by the steady flow of manipulations and lies that had dripped from his lips for who knew how long. You had given him another chance after everything, and what did you have to show for it now? Nothing but an aching heart and enough resentments to last a lifetime. 

“And whose fault is that?” you snapped, every word laced with venom. “Your priorities were made abundantly clear to me after you lied straight to my face. How long did you think you could keep it from me, hm? Did you think I was too stupid to notice, or did toeing the line right in front of me excite you somehow? You’re not allowed to be upset that your actions had consequences.” 

As you sucked down a breath and fixed Sebastian with a hard, unyielding look, he stared at you oppressively. His mouth pressed together as he processed your words. Whether it was what you had said that left him speechless or the fact that you had said anything to him at all, you didn’t know. Regardless, he took a second too long to reply, which gave you the chance to click your tongue disapprovingly.

“I have nothing to say to you, Sebastian. Go back to your seat before you land us in more trouble.”

At that moment, it was as if he had been doused with chilled water. Sebastian snapped out of his stupor and frowned, his back straightening as he gathered his resolve once more. “I beg to differ, I have plenty to say. We haven’t even scratched the surface of what needs to be said–”

“Nothing needs to be said!” you blurted, your steely resolve crumbling ever so slightly. This wasn’t as easy as you thought it would be. To spit in the face of his pleading and remain firm in your refusal to hear him out. He sounded so… desperate. More than that, his words were tinged with unmistakable sincerity. Some internal part of you writhed in agony as you ignored your heart and forced out, “I don’t care, Sebastian. I’m tired. I gave you plenty of chances before and you’ve officially squandered every last one. I can’t do this with you– not now, not ever.” 

The telling sting of tears welling in your eyes had you averting your gaze to the door, silently praying for Professor Weasley to come back, because you were being made acutely aware of how difficult it was to keep this up. You had given Sebastian nearly two years of your life. You had loved him– you still loved him– but you didn’t think you had the strength to go down this path with him again. The Dark Arts had brought the two of you nothing but misery, and for him to go back to it after all this time not only infuriated you, it saddened you. 

He had done so well for himself. He had changed, wholly and truly. Even Ominis had let him back into his life after a grueling six months of pleading. But for him to pull all of this on you a second time… 

How did the saying go? Fool me once; shame on you. Fool me twice…

You were tired of being tricked. 

The sudden feeling of Sebastian’s hand skimming down your spine had your head swiveling back towards him in a flash. Your arm flew up to knock him away, but he anticipated the move and caught your wrist with his other hand, coiling his fingers around the limb to lock you in his grip. Through the well of tears in your eyes, you watched as he brought your trapped hand to his mouth, pressing a chaste, gentle kiss to the inside of your palm before nuzzling you affectionately. The motion was so tender– so adoring– that you couldn’t help but watch him completely dumbstruck. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured against the skin of your hand. Kissing you again, his dark eyes flicked back to meet yours, “I’m sorry for lying. I should have been honest from the start. There’s no one else I trust more in this world than you, you know that, right?” 

The hand on your back took to tracing languid shapes against your blouse, inching its way lower towards the waistline of your skirt, and your breath hitched in your throat as you hastily wiped away an errant tear that slipped down your cheek. You eyed him warily and curled your fingers in the hand he still held, but he made no move to pull away. “You should have done a lot of things, Sebastian. But you can’t change the past. You messed up, and I need you to accept that.” 

“But what if I could?” He spoke the words in a low voice, then tilted his head down so he was gazing at you through his dark lashes. The look… it was predatory. Animalistic, in a way. It scared you that you even began to find the expression intriguing. Moreover, you had no clue what it was he meant… but you wanted to. 

“What if you could what?” 

“What if I could change the past?” Your brows furrowed in alarm, but Sebastian ignored your wary countenance and slid to the edge of his seat so he was mere inches from you. The hand on your back reached the tucked hem of your shirt, his fingers brazenly sneaking beneath the material to trail his touch up your bare back, and despite your reservations, you couldn’t help but shudder. “What if I could use power no one has ever dreamed of? What if I was close to uncovering magic that could make anything possible? Dark or not, it’s magic. It was created for a purpose. What’s so wrong with using it? It’s a tool, same as all spells… it would be wasteful to bury it just because the Ministry says so.”

“But–” his fingers skimmed over your brassiere, toying with the metal clasps that held it in place with a look of mischievousness glimmering in his eyes. Unwilling to back down, however, you forced the rest of your retort from your lips. “It’s not just the Ministry that says so, it’s history. Look at Isidora–”

Sebastian tugged on the hand he still had clasped in his own, drawing you into his space so suddenly that you gasped softly. He let go of your wrist to cup your cheek, leaning in more until he was so close that you could see your own reflection in his eyes. “Isidora’s problem was that she lacked conviction. She was motivated, sure, but she still sought approval from the wrong people. Those Keepers became a vise of her own making. She was never going to get anywhere with her abilities so long as she waited for their consent.” 

You had a feeling you knew where he was going with this. A bad feeling. 

“But you?” His eyes jumped between your own, flicking down at your lips every so often as he slipped two of his fingers under the strappy attire beneath your blouse. “You could be so much better than her. You can control your powers with so much more finesse than she ever could, and together we could unlock untold secrets about magic. Think about it, darling. You and me, unearthing troves of hidden knowledge. What’s the harm in that?” 

He didn’t even give you a chance to respond. The miniscule distance between the two of you vanished in a heartbeat as Sebastian closed in, and your words were stolen from you as his lips crushed against yours with an intensity that muddled your thoughts. You weren’t an idiot– you knew this was his way of distracting you from everything; his lies, the spell book, the utterly incomprehensible bombshell he had just dropped on you. In prime Sebastian fashion, he had disarmed you completely and reduced you to putty in his hands, your previous anger momentarily forgotten as he probed around your mouth with his tongue. 

It was entirely too predictable… but you would be lying if you said it wasn’t addicting. You had missed him. You didn’t think you would ever stop loving him– his faults be damned. 

The fact that the two of you were in Professor Weasley’s classroom barely mattered to you– especially not when the hand on your back finally undid the clasps of your brassiere with a dexterity that enticed you far more than was healthy. With that out of the way, Sebastian dragged the limb out from under your shirt and wrapped both arms around your midsection, continuously devouring the tiny sounds you made with his mouth as he hoisted you out of your chair and deposited you roughly on the desk. 

It was positively frantic. The hurried pulling of clothes and the panted breaths exchanged in-between kisses made it seem like the two of you had been apart for years instead of one measly week. You were still angry with him for lying, and you were worried about what indulging him now would mean for the two of you later down the line… but for the time being, you didn’t care. Sebastian was your vise, and you were certain that no matter how hard you tried, you would never be able to bring yourself to be rid of him. 

You were left to hold yourself steady as Sebastian let go of you to tug at his belt, his teeth biting and pulling at your bottom lip harshly as he drew away briefly to flick the leather aside and undo the catch of his pants. He pulled his cock from the confines of his briefs hastily, stroking himself furiously with one hand as the other blindly gathered your skirt into a disheveled heap below your navel. The ferocity with which he yanked your undergarments down your legs made you gasp, and as soon as those were pulled down past your thighs, he went right back to swallowing up the delicious sounds you made. 

Without breaking away, Sebastian dragged you towards the edge of the desk and lifted one of your thighs up, holding it firmly to his hip as he bumped the head of his cock against your throbbing cunt. The growing wetness there made the teasing slide of his tip through your folds positively heavenly for both of you, and you felt arousal curling in the pit of your stomach when the man before you growled. 

He broke away from your swollen lips with a shaky exhale, and you blinked up at him as you took in the ravenous expression that adorned his handsome face. Flushed cheeks, messy hair, and a lustful, wanton gleam in his dark, bottomless eyes. It was all for you, you realized dimly. 

It was one of the worst ideas you had ever had, but you decided to be greedy. If he was going to offer, then you were going to take. 

You adjusted your weight so you were supporting yourself up with one hand while your other flew to the back of Sebastian’s neck. If the feeling of your nails digging into his skin was unpleasant, he definitely didn’t care, seeing as he groaned appreciatively when you dragged his lips back to yours. It was all a flurry of tongue and teeth as the two of you shamelessly rutted like animals atop the desk, until he finally moved his hips to press into your sopping wet entrance, and the stretch was as delectable as it was jarring. 

“Fuck,” you heard him mutter against your lips. The fingers he had wrapped around your thigh dug into your flesh, the incredible feeling of your warm, pulsing walls enveloping him making him shudder with delight. “I love you. I love you so much, you know?” 

You nodded brainlessly, still processing the feeling of him breaching you. “I love you too. You’re everything to me, Sebastian. I–” 

His hips jerked forward at the declaration, making you cry out against your better judgement, and even though being noisy was quite possibly the worst choice either one of you could make, Sebastian seemed to relish in the sound. In a split second, he had you laid out on your back across the desk, tightening his grip on your leg with a strength you knew would leave bruises. He shook his head as he chuckled to himself, then fixed his sights on you as he began to pump his hips with a tenacity that left you breathless. Your spine arched off the wooden surface as he worked to set a brutal pace, his lust-dark eyes watching you rapaciously as your mouth fell open around a long, drawn out moan. 

“We were made for each other,” you heard him state gruffly. Your other leg was swiftly lifted and tossed over his shoulder, spreading you open for him so obscenely that you knew you would never be able to attend class here with a straight face ever again. The new position gave him the freedom to press his broad hand against your lower stomach as well, applying ample pressure so he could feel the head of his cock spearing into the deepest parts of you. It felt surreal– it was mind-boggling– and you were certain that you broke your nails when you instinctively dragged your fingers along the desk. “Two sides of the same coin, darling. That’s what we are. You’re mine, and I’m all yours. Only yours. You believe me, right?” 

Getting your tongue to work was next to impossible, so your acknowledgement came out sounding like more of a garbled wheeze. Sebastian only laughed at your fucked-out state, moving his hand from your stomach up your torso, shoving your undone brassiere out of the way to roughly squeeze one of your breasts in his warm palm. The intensity of his thrusts kicked up then, and he took to grinding his balls against the swell of your ass with every deep, aggressive plunge of his cock. 

Through your hazy vision, you saw as his head tipped forward between his shoulders, the pleasure he derived from fucking you on the desk taking him to new heights. You were inclined to think similarly, because for some unfathomable reason, the threat of the Professor walking in at any moment only added to the rush of ecstasy that coursed through your veins. 

The force of Sebastian’s thrusts made your arm shake as you lifted it from the desk, planting it squarely over your clit so you could rub aggressive, desperate little circles over it. The instant gratification had you groaning loud, your voice echoing off the walls of the classroom and dragging Sebastian’s attention back to you. He wrenched his hand apart from your breast to snatch yours away from your bundle of nerves, then pinned the limb to the desk beside your head. 

He leaned in close to your face, bending your leg so far back that the sinful sound of his hips slapping against your wet skin amplified tenfold. It was equal parts embarrassing and erotic, and you mewled pitifully as he smirked and proclaimed, “That’s my job, darling.” 

You were about to say that you didn’t care whose job it was, so long as it was a job that got done– but his calloused thumb planting itself over the nub interrupted your snide comment, replacing it instantly with a quivering moan that had him twitching inside of you. Entirely at his mercy as he pounded into you, the rapid flicking he bestowed upon your clit brought you closer to that blissful edge you yearned to fall over. The fire in your gut burned hotter, your senseless noises got raspier, and in turn Sebastian’s hold on you became possessive. 

He watched you unblinkingly, waiting for you to reach your peak with rapt focus, and all you could do was meet his unwavering stare as your climax finally washed over you. Your mouth fell open as a choked groan escaped your hoarse throat, and Sebastian swiftly released your thigh to cover your mouth with his hand, muffling the noises enough so that the sanctity of your activities wouldn’t be broadcasted to anyone nearby. 

You were hardly of a mind to care– you were seeing stars. Everything around you flashed white as you trembled uncontrollably beneath him, your muscles tensing and your walls sucking him in impossibly deeper. A rumbling groan sounded from him as he fucked you through all of it, only deigning to increase his pace once he felt you go lax under him, and then it didn’t take long for him to follow you over that edge. He repeated your name over and over again as he came, bottoming out into your soaked cunt as he emptied himself deep within your walls, those predatory eyes of his sliding shut for the briefest of moments. 

It was hard to say how long the two of you stayed like that; coiled around one another as you both worked to control your breathing. Sebastian’s hand slipped away from your mouth, granting you the ability to suck down deep, steadying gulps of air, and shortly thereafter you felt him trail his fingers down your sides soothingly. 

Through the post-coital haze that clouded your mind, you found yourself staring at him as he stood straight and pulled out of your brutalized folds. He tucked himself back into his pants swiftly, scanning your flushed body beneath him with a sort of unbridled longing that left you feeling exposed. 

Where did the two of you go from here? What was next? 

Wordlessly, Sebastian helped you sit up, huffing out a laugh when your forehead thumped against his chest weakly. He took it upon himself to fix up your clothes, tucking your shirt back into your wrinkled skirt before carefully bending down to drag your underwear back up your boneless legs. You had to shift a little to help him get them on properly, but your head stayed firmly planted against him the entire time. 

A hand on your neck roused you from your hiding spot, and you cautiously tipped your head back to look up at him through your lashes. Sebastian stared down at you with a hopeful expression on his face– something else akin to excitement shadowing the look. “Do you trust me?” 

That was one hell of a loaded question… especially following everything that had transpired throughout the week. You mulled it over quietly, choosing your words carefully before opting to say, “I want to.”

He sighed and brought his other hand to your cheek, cupping your face in his clammy palms as he nodded. “Okay. No more secrets. No more lies. I swear to you, from here on out, you’ll get nothing but the truth from me.” He waited to see if you would push him away or refute the statement, but you didn’t. You just pursed your lips, hesitating only briefly before nodding. It seemed pointless to call his bluff right now. “Would you come with me? To do all the things I told you about?”

From outside the classroom, you could suddenly hear the sound of muffled voices approaching. Professor Weasley had to be returning from the Hospital Wing, and the two of you were still in a very precarious position. One that was guaranteed to land you in more trouble than you could fathom. 

Sebastian jerked your face back towards him, forcing your eyes to return to his as he looked at you with sheer desperation. “Would you?” he reiterated urgently. 

“I–” you gingerly lifted your hands to hold his wrists, opening and closing your mouth as you worked to formulate words. “I don’t know, Sebastian. It’s a scary prospect, and so many things could go wrong–” 

“Not if we work together,” he insisted, chancing a quick look at the massive doorway. The voices and footsteps from outside were getting louder, and you got the distinct impression that Sebastian thought that you were running out of time. He looked back at you, eyes burning, “If we do this together– as a team– there’s so much we could accomplish. You and me against the world, darling. We can bring in a new era of magic that no one has ever dreamed of. You just have to trust me.” 

It was terrifying to consider. It was balmy and likely to end in the worst of ways. You were both still so young– still figuring out where you stood in a world run by magic. Your shared, tumultuous past with Sebastian had barely opened your eyes to the surface of what your abilities could do. Of that, you were certain. Part of you was afraid to traverse that path once again and run the risk of something worse than Solomon transpiring. 

But another, much stronger part of you was curious to test your limits. Sebastian wasn’t wrong; Isidora’s magic was ripe with potential, and if he really did mean to help you along the way… 

If you couldn’t convince him to veer away from the path he had chosen, the least you could do was walk it with him. Maybe doing so would prove beneficial… or maybe it wouldn’t. There was no way of knowing for certain. 

“I do trust you,” you said plainly, the weight of the statement settling over the two of you like a blanket of iron. Despite your reasoning behind saying the words, you still couldn’t help but feel like you’d just signed a deal with the devil. 

He smiled at you then, the sight blinding when coupled with the excitement that glimmered in his captivating, brown eyes. Your grip on his wrists tightened a fraction, and Sebastian used your own hold on him to tug you off the desk and into his arms in one, swift motion. “Then hold on tight, darling.” 

It should have been impossible– and the implications of the action left your mind reeling– but in the next second, a deafening crack sounded all around the two of you and echoed off the walls of the classroom. You had no clue where he was apparating you to, nor did you know how he had managed to even do it while on school grounds, but you knew that you trusted him to keep you safe. 

From here on out, you had to trust him. You realized, through the roar of magic that flooded your ears, that there was no other choice. 

[achrams]

𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: An antique collector gets an unusal package containing a knight ('A Knight' from Reverse 1999) right at his doorstep, with lots of old english.

𝐂𝐰: Blow job, unprotected mirror sex and a creampie.

Being into ancient relics came with its pros and cons, for example your house looked like a literal portal to a Victorian house…at the expense of you living off of 2 dollars until your next paycheck. Which in hindsight wasn’t as bad as it sounded given the high ranking job you managed to somehow bag. No need to worry about going to the office either, remote work -  you really were blessed weren’t you. Nice modest house, from the outside that is, a beautiful interior filled with all sorts of mystical shiny relics you had managed to collect like a crow and a good job- Ding dong.

You weren’t expecting any guests, especially at this hour. With a grumbled murmur of, ’Who in the hell comes over at 7am sharp.’ you made your way to the front door of your flat. Taking a deep breath in to mentally prepare yourself for any sort of human interaction before plastering on a smile and opening the door. To your surprise the hallway was empty, not a single soul in sight at all. It’s as if a ghost had decided to pull a prank on you and ding dong ditched you leaving nothing more but a few boxes in its wake.

Another, more annoyed sigh left you before your gaze lowered to the ground where two boxes were left to be welcomed into your comfortable Victorian looking house. It was an easy deduction that these must be some of the items you had bought a few days? Weeks? Maybe even months or years ago..you’ve lost count of the times you’ve ‘accidentally’ wandered onto a website that sells all sorts of trinkets for your hoarder mind. The older the better, that’s how it usually went.

A swift few trips back and forth from your door to the livingroom and the lonely boxes were finally adopted into the family of silver shine that covered the place. The first box opened up to two beautiful antique vases - intricate designs of wreaths covered shimmering the area perfectly. One simple look around and you knew exactly where to place the vases. The small nooks, that the plethora of items you owned had created, on each side of the hallway leading to your bedroom like you were some royalty.

The second box was a little more concerning, to say the least, it was heavy. Like really heavy for some shiny antiques. Aside from that, you didn’t quite recall buying anything other than a couple of vases. Sure, your mind could have fooled you but surely you would have remembered a purchase that seemed to weigh tons. Anticipation filled your gut as you hovered over the box, hunched like a dragon obsessing over every speck of gold in the mountains of shinies your mind was hooked on.

With careful precision you removed the tape from the box and let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. Opening a freebie of sorts shouldn’t be as nerve wracking as it is right now. ’Did someone send this to the wrong address? No- what if this is something illegal. I really should just leave it..’ Seems like that inner debate lasted for approximately 3 seconds before eyeing the suspicious box became too daunting and you quickly opened it up. Having pressed your eyes shut in case something were to jump out of it and scare you.

One, two, three, four- okay nothing jumped out to surprise you. Recovering from the tense jumbled position your hands managed to form, as a protective gesture, gave you a better chance to properly look at what the box had to offer. Inside laid an absolutely stunning silver armour. It was beautiful, more so than any other old knightly armour you had seen before. It was in pristine condition, shiny with no smell of rust, covered from head to toe in extremely small carvings that were clearly embedded into it with love.

The only..concerning part of this all was that the box seemed packed. Well, it looked like it was filled to the brim, ready to bust - which gave the initial fear of the box containing something illegal- but to your eyes it was a mere cape with some metal gloves. Clearly part of an armour..maybe the rest of the armour was buried beneath the cape - which was beaming with rich blue fabric and golden stitches to show its high class. Though as soon as you tried to reach into the box it didn’t even take a millisecond before sheer surprise made your body recoil backwards.

’What the hell was that.’ You thought as your gaze lingered on the suspicious cardboard before you, then lowered to your shaking hands. You swear you felt something - shocker the box had items in it- but you didn’t touch anything. Your hands hovered over the metal gloves but you weren’t touching them. So, why in the hell did it feel like a hard surface was beneath your skin. ’Am I going insane? Is this the end for my brain?’ The thoughts spilled from your lips via an awkward chuckle.

Some small glances between your right and left hand eased your spiralling mind before they were ultimately dragged across your face with a groan. Maybe it was the early morning that was fucking with your head because no other suggestion would provide a suitable answer for your weird hallucination, if that moment could even be called that. It was around 7 am in the morning after all, perhaps you were still half asleep and not thinking correctly..or worst case scenario you’ve unleashed a phantom into your house, forced to get an unwelcome roommate.

Moving slightly closer to the box, for probably the third time in the span of half an hour, you pulled all your courage to try and see what truly was inside the box. ’There’s no way what just happened was real. Some passing…air..maybe..hopefully’ Not even you yourself managed to reassure the marathon running heart beating out of your chest.

“Ah..That wast quite a trip…Greetings.” A voice reached your ears and instead of the usual screech, yelp or a freak out, you had properly convinced yourself that you had lost it. Falling back onto your heels you sat before the mystical box that seemed to house a…ghost? 

“...WHAT THE SHIT!?” It finally seemed to click that what had just happened was not, in fact, a dream but real life. Even though you could see nothing but some metallic gloves and a curtain of a blue cape it took way too long for you to react to the presence before you. Scrambling up to your feet, heart ready to meet its grave as you quite literally sprinted down the hallway to shield yourself in your bedroom. ’What is happening..this is not real..but it was. The damn armour spoke.’ You heaved out as your back was neatly pressing against the wooden door, providing a comforting feeling of knowing nothing, even the weird knight ghost, could sneak up on you.

- - -

’Okay..breathe in..and out..you can do it..’ That had been a soothing mantra leaving your lips for the past..let's say another half an hour. Each time you had come close to opening your door, which was just your hand lingering ominously over the doorknob, your mind managed to convince you to retract your hand. Leaving it awkwardly stiff beside you as the next wave of hyping up followed. It probably took you about ten more minutes before you actually got the courage to exit the comfort of your bedroom.

The walk into your living room area seemed a lot longer than you remembered, it might have been the fear that played the most important role right now but at least it gave you the time to think of an ‘escape' plan. Spoiler: it would have been you sprinting right back into your bedroom, which one might argue, is not the most clever of plans.

One look to the left and one look to the right managed to dim the light of your concerns, Pheww..there's no one here. See, I told you there was nothing to worry about.’ You whispered out to yourself. The worries that had clouded your mind for way too long were eased, as much as one could ease them in this situation to be fair, so for your own sanity you wanted to quickly discard the cursed cardboard and go back to your humble life.

The chucked out box looked innocently back at your grimacing face. Almost making it seem like you were having a stare off with it before pulling your door closed. A deep breath in and you were finally ready to actually start your day, despite the chaos you had endured for the better part of an hour now. Turning around you were faced with none other than the mystery armour itself. “So, I'm not crazy. I've just lost it all..” your mouth hung open at the sight, the fleeing plan from before having morphed into a freezing one.

“Someone believeth we did get off on the wrong foot. ‘Tis a delight to meeteth thee, sir.” As much as you would have wanted to answer with something, anything, there was a clear and strong barrier between your head and your mouth, refusing to let anything pass. Instead of communicating you stared at the knight in utter shock with your jaw probably growing roots against the wooden floor by this point. “I am, Knight. Nay necessity to worry for Someone is not vengeful.” he bowed before you in a well-mannered way.

It took you a few blinks and stutters before you mustered out a simple, “What..are you?” That seemed to be the question that broke the dam because the following flood of questions seemed to confuse the poor knight as much as you had been confused and continued to be. “How did you get here? Why are you here and what the fuck is up with the invisibility?!”

“Right, such a colourful vocabulary thee has't.” The knight murmured out as he swayed in his spot - as visible from the swishing from his cape. He held out his hands in a surrender and tried to explain as calmly as he could in hopes that the words would actually reach your overburdened head.

“I'm afraid Someone doth not have't an answer for yond, or aught of those questions. Someone recalls getting defeated in combat and now..waking up here.” The smooth voice from the invisible body before you says, and you can somewhat tell, from the moving cape, that he's looking around the place. Inspecting the interior as if he hadn't had the time for that when you’d locked yourself into your bedroom for half an hour.

“So..you just are like..that?” You asked, hands motioning to the body or lack thereof with a confused expression. Brows having contorted into a jumbled mess as you desperately tried to wrap your head around all of this crazy magical nonsense that had been suddenly pushed into your casual life.

The knight nodded, or that's what it seemed like at least, “Correct, this is merely how Someone is.” The knight turned around with a swish, and happily questioned you about your interior choices. “Someone might not but sayeth, thy interior selections art quite embracing. Art thee fond of history?” 

The nod was already halfway finished when you realised that you were genuinely speaking to some invisible knight. ’There's nothing to do about it anymore anyways..might as well have a chat.’ Walking a bit closer, to quickly slip past him you walked to the living room and gestured to the different antiques you've been collecting for years now. “I am, yes. Any object with historical value or an eye-pleasing design has a place in my home.”

Throwing a quick smile towards the invisible knight seemed like a welcoming enough gesture as the knight moved closer to better chat on the topic. Being an old knight from fuck knows which time period gauranteed some first hand experience, in the historical view point. Two historical nerds being pulled together by fate had ensured long chats on anything antique related. Luckily for you the ‘phantom’ you thought to have let loose in your flat just happened to be a devoted and gentle knight. You weren’t sure how or why this happened but as of right now, this surprise roommate was good enough.

- - -

It has been a few months since this mysterious knight entered your life. There might have been a bit of a rocky start to this new living plan but as it turns out it wasn’t that different to how things would have been with a regular roommate, yours was just..a little obscure. In that time you’ve been together with him the amount of knowledge you’ve gained is astronomical. You knew your stuff before but now, having a real person to confirm or deny these ‘facts’ was real handy. As well as getting to know the real meaning behind some antiques. It was thrilling to say the least.

In addition to all of that, you got to know the knight better. All of his past battles, memories, friends..everything. He had been surprisingly willing to share such personal parts of himself so fast. Which likely worked to create a stronger bond, because what lunatic would immediately trust ‘flying’ gloves without knowing anything about said gloves. He came out to be a lot more interesting than you had previously thought.

Though there is one little knack to it all. He seems to be very insistent on calling you ‘his Lord’. It wasn’t immediate, no not at all, it was gradual. Revealing stories of his past Lord and then ever so slowly starting to refer to you as a Lord. Maybe it was the interior design that made him fit right in or maybe he just missed his Lord at home - wherever that may be - but he didn’t even stop when you brought it up. In fact, it seemed to enable him.

“My Lord, Someone might not but sayeth I'm thankful for thy hospitality. You've been more than kind.” He said earnestly as he sat across from you at the dining table, conveniently fit for two in this small warm flat. It was almost audible how he beamed when he said it, having forced it out from the deepest parts of his heart.

“I said it already, you don’t need to call me ‘Lord’. I’m just some guy you live with now.” You half assedly laughed out while swishing the cooling tea around in your mug with a spoon. A comforting habit you’ve picked up on, and it seems he had too given how the armoured hand hesitantly moved to cover yours. 

“I insist. Thee helped me and Someone wisheth to showeth his own gratitude” the knight murmured out honestly and drew his hand back once your mindless tea mixing motion had come to a still. There was a moment of silence before he spoke up once again, this time more sheepishly. As if he was actively debating whether to truly speak his mind or not while he was already speaking, “Doth such a title bother thee?”

He doesn’t even let you answer that it doesn’t as much as bother you but it just feels out of place given they didn’t live in the 17th century or well, you didn’t. “Someone just wisheth to refer to his own loveth accordingly.” Yes, you heard that correctly. He did just say that and by the looks of it was mostly intentional, maybe revealed a bit earlier than he was ready for given the fidgeting hands on his cape but it certainly wasn’t a mistake. The knight didn’t even attempt to take it back, just waiting for a response to the small confession.

“You..I heard that correctly..right?” You practically choked out, surprised - though let's be honest the signs were very much clear. The use of a title, the small affectionate gestures, the deep talks about his past. The knight trusted you a lot more, a lot faster than one would in such a short amount of time.

“Ay. Yond is correct. Someone wisheth to pursueth thee, if thee don't mind yond, my Lord.” He said out with a heartfelt tone, shifting in his seat to lean more onto the table, likely not wanting to miss any small reaction you might let out. Every small detail was valuable to him, especially when it came to love. 

“I..I’m not sure, it’s just.” You didn’t want to break the poor knight’s heart. He was kind and charming - from what you’ve managed to deduct - but he was an invisible knight. No amount of delusion changed that. “I’m sure you’re a really kind guy-” “Please. Someone beggeth thee. This comes from the bottom of his own core. Alloweth Someone showeth thee the extent of this loveth, my Lord.”

’Gosh, was he always so adorable? Begging to prove his love..that amount of devotion wasn’t easy to come by nowadays.’ You sighed and let out a gentle chuckle. Head tilting up from the mug between your hands to now look at the desperate knight. “Alright. I accept your confession.”

This made the knight ecstatic, getting him to jump from his chair before his armoured hands came up to cover his mouth. “Apologies, Someone is  over the lunar sphere from thy acceptance. Someone is so joyous he couldst kisseth thee.” It didn’t take a genius to figure out from his body language that he was begging, aching to show his devotion, his love for you.

With a sheepish sigh you nodded at him, giving him the permission he was hoping to receive. No time was wasted for him to quickly make it before you. His armoured cold hands coming to hesitantly and so gently rest at your cheeks, the metal caressing your warm skin before he leans forward. “Someone loveth thee.” The whispered words brushed your lips before the two worlds met.

His lips were very much real and warm, obviously he was real but it was your first time kissing an invisible knight, you didn’t know what to expect so to feel it was relatively normal eased your mind. Hands sliding up his armoured hands to explore their way onto the knight’s shoulders and then around his neck to pull him closer. Growing more confident with the way things were going, you wasted no time in tilting your head feeling him lose his base adrenaline from the beginning. 

A smile made its way onto your lips as you felt his breath hitch into your mouth, eating that delicious reaction right up. Following your instincts and sliding your tongue along his shaky lower lip before intruding his mouth. Huffs and slurps filled the air around you two as you dedicated the moment to show him the modern, intense, kisses his knightly mind couldn’t even fathom. “My Lord..” the breathed sound was like music to your ears as you pulled away from his lips, seeing the clear signs of shared spit between you two breakrather lewdly.

“Can Someone please thee?” He huffed out, armoured hands still cupping your face as you could feel his intense gaze on you. Begging. You didn’t even need to see it to know that his face was begging for you. For him to be able to show his love. “Of course, Love.” The shaky breath that left him at the response did not go unnoticed by you, feeling how the cold metal travelled down your neck to your chest, gliding it down the front until your hips.

Kneeling before you his hands pried open your thighs, thumbs massaging the skin beneath the fabric. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel how his head leaned in to press gentle pecks all along your thighs. Ranging from your knees to the thighs to the inner thighs before his nose was flush with your groin, pressing intimate kisses the the area. Pulling you a little closer as his armoured hands grabbed your ass so he could properly hide his face between the soft warm thighs that belonged to you, his Lord.

“May Someone?” he breathed out and buried his head into your warmth. Nuzzling his nose against your growing hardness with need that was unexpected from a calm and collected knight such as himself. Smiling against you when he felt your hands travel down to rid yourself of the annoying fabric that seemed like a brick barrier between you two right about now.

As soon as the pants had been cast aside and let pool at your ankles after some quick manoeuvring, the knight wasted no time in pleasing his Lord. One, two and three kisses up your length before his armoured hands dug it out from your boxers, dragging his tongue along the slit. Tasting the pre that had started to bead from the tip at the continuous affection you were receiving from the knight worshipping you on his knees.

“You can..do what you wish-” before you were given the chance to even finish your sentence, the knight had already kissed the needy and messy head before taking it into his mouth. Humming against it as he suckles it with a slurp, making you lean your head back with a groan. Hands going to quickly grasp the seat of the backless chair you were sitting on while the knight selfishly pushed his head down to take you in his mouth whole.

The feeling of a warm, welcoming mouth with a soft tongue gliding against the underside of your dick was heavenly. Making you press your eyes shut while you face the ceiling, to deal with the loving affection you've been deprived of for a while. Who knew that such devotion and worshipping felt so damn good that you felt your chest heave and thighs shudder under the armoured hands that kept them perfectly open and in place for the knight.

Hollowing his cheeks around your dick, the knight pulled his head up to run his tongue over your head again before lowering it to take you to the base. Feeling how you grew harder in his warm mouth, how you twitched in his throat like some starved man. Gosh if he wasn’t smitten before then he certainly was now. Wanting to please his Lord until he was satisfied and on cloud nine.

The knight hummed in delight from the way you heaved from his ministrations, that in turn making him pick up his bobbing to deepthroat you with every single move. “Ahh..wai- mmh!” The words were cut off by the knight's armoured hand reaching to cup your balls, fondling them with care while he gagged on your dick like some hoe who'd just seen an ankle for the first time in his life. 

The warmth of his wet mouth and squeeze of his adjusting throat were damn near perfect that when he ignored your plea from before he certainly acknowledged the way your body shook violently not, staggering on release. The shivered breaths and hitched bucks into his mouth made the knight as pleased as he could be. “..hahh Love..please..” you managed to force out from the onslaught of pleasure.

A moment to catch your breath as his mouth popped off your erection, the pre mixed with saliva keeping you connected. “I don't..shitt..I don't want to cum from this..can I fuck you?” The words came out breathy and hopeful as you finally leaned your head down to look at the sight of  the knight, your knight treating your dick as if it's a sucker.

While he decided if he wanted to let you or not, your gaze zoned in on the fact you could see through him. You could see how he took you into his mouth, how your dick fit his throat and how it squeezed you deliciously. You really could see the hazed pre-covered channels his body ‘hid’, the same ones you had claimed. Damn was it a turn on.

With an eager nod the knight rose from his feet to take your hand and pull you up. Hoping to guide you to your bedroom, through the royal looking hall, where you could continue to explore and share the devotion of love as a knight should to his Lord. However, that plan was spoiled, not in a bad way though. Instead of the bedroom, you dragged your knight next to a mirror. Standing behind the eager knight and ridding him of the cape that obstructed your perfect view.

Your hands finding his shoulders and travelling down his body, worshipping the hidden gem of a man just as he had done to you minutes before. Sliding them down his chest to stomach and then his thighs which you grabbed and pushed down on, making his ass slot flush against your hard on.

“Have you always been naked, hmm?” You whispered slyly as your hands roamed, claimed and ravaged his body like some carnivore. To which he simply let out a shaky breath, leaning his body more against you as a silent invitation to take and enjoy your meal. To show just how much you loved him.

A sneaky hand had made its way into the crease of his ass, exploring until it found a snug rim of muscles. ’Perfect.’ You thought as you massaged it in a circle before teasingly putting pressure on it til the tip of your pointer finger slipped past the force. 

It wasn’t even much and you had already dragged out a moan from your knight, it was small and similar to a hitched breath but it was there. Slowly easing your finger in, you took pride in the sounds already leaving the knight. All shaky and broken as if you were already fucking him dumb. Your gaze focused on the sight of your digit going in and out consistently in the mirror, seeing everything through his clear body.

Not deeming it worth seeing just yet, you waited until he was prepped before showing him the sight you found magical and took pride in. Once the single finger had turned to two, letting you scissor him to your heart's content it felt like a good time to grind your neglected throbbing erection against his ass. Making sure you didn’t soften while getting your knight nice and loose for you.

The knight had had his head leaned back on your shoulder, warm breaths escaping his parted lips like a prayer while your hands worked their magic. When he felt three digits work him open, curling and thrusting in him with nasty squelches he bit his lip to limit the lewd whimpers his well used throat was collecting like a magnet. The broken bucks down against your fingers said more than words ever could.

“You're so perfect, Love.” You murmured slowly as you withdrew your fingers with a slick sound, earning a broken gasp from your knight. The coated fingers gave a few pumps to your dick before guiding it right against your knight’s quivering hole. Applying pressure to it but not breaching it just yet. Instead your free hand moved to look for his head, forcing him to look down into the mirror to see the spot you were about to ruin and claim.

“Look at that, love. Focus on it, yeah?” You whispered as you finally pushed in and breached his tight hole. Feeling how his body tensed from the intrusion but despite the overwhelming feeling of you filling him up til breaking, he followed orders like a good knight. Focusing exactly where you had wanted, seeing how you had entered him. How his needy hole was trying to eat you up, to pull you further into the body he owned yet now shared with you.

“Moveth…please moveth, my Lord.” he croaked out with a simple buck against your dick. Feeling how it buried itself deeper, digging itself a snug home within the welcoming cavern inside your knight. Having seen perfectly how each drag of your dick against his walls was carving a road to heaven. Every small move drawing out a perverted sound from the already overstimulated knight.

Pushing your knight flush against the mirror before you, the grip on his neck never faltered, keeping his gaze exactly where you wanted it. Loving the idea that he’s seeing you ravage his body, claim it for your own with each wet slap of skin against skin. Feeling how his body shook and shuddered beneath your determined bucks against his soft yet clear skin. Pushing in an up to reach as deep within him as possible, showing your devotion to him loud and clear, leaving no room for interpretation.

“Oh-! fuckk..” the knight spilled his moans as he saw the brutality of your thrusts. Knowing - feeling how your dick pistoned in and out of his quivering depths like there was no tomorrow but also being ordered to see. God damn was it hot to be forced to view how your flushed and needy head toyed with his gushy walls, how your dick throbbed within him and most of all how your pre beaded out of your slit to fog up the clear view in his body.

Your hands suddenly grasped at his hips and pressed against him, hard. Pushing yourself into him so much that he felt his sweaty chest come into contact with the cool mirror. Lewd, loud and broken moans being pulled out from your knight while you pick up your pace. The once slow and calculated thrust transforming into raw needy ones. Chasing the high you'd been teetering on once before.

The knight’s metal gloves were clanking against the mirror while you fuck into him like a rabid dog. The sweet like honey mewls only tightening the eventually bursting knot in your abdomen. The tight perfectly delicious squeeze around your shaft, the filthy sounds of pleasure and creaking from your surroundings and the stimulation of fucking your knight dumb provided were enough.

“Pleaseplease- fuuckk..Love!” You groaned out as the burning tightness in you was becoming overwhelming. Your hips burying themselves neatly against your knights plush ass in a frenzy as you shake against one another. The force of it all making your knight cry out in bliss, drowning out the cracking of glass.

With no warning or a heads-up, you drew your dick out til the head and harshly pressed back in, one final time before coming. A loud moan erupts from your knight as the final blow pushed so perfectly into him, though the bliss was short lived with the sudden break of the mirror before you. Luckily neither got hurt, because your knight had his armoured gloves on and you had already slowed your hips to a near halt.

Leaning against your knight's back, catching your breath as you felt his walls milk you dry. He hummed in pleasure, catching his own breath from the intensity of it all as his dick pumped ropes of cum onto the mirror and the broken shards across the floor. His eyes shutting for a moment but opening just as fast, yet tiredly, when he felt your hands wrap around his middle, sliding down to hover over his abdomen. “Would you look at that?” You breathed out with gratitude.

“That's all mine now. My perfect knight.” To which your knight seemed to shiver at when he saw how well you had used the canvas of his body, painting his clear inner walls white with devotion. A perfect art exhibit in his body of who this knight was devoted to. It fit perfectly with your already enormous collection of antiques. What's the harm in having your personal knight as well?

Though that thought will be stored for later, seeing as you knight was becoming sleepy. Exhausted from the physical labour, not in a fighting way he had been used to in his old world,but in a more primal way that had completely drained him, slowly growing limp in your arms. Luckily the hands around his middle held him up, for now. Gently pulling yourself out of him with a pop, you guide your sleepy knight to a nearby couch to avoid you collapsing too.

Making sure he's nice and comfortable before storming to the bathroom for a warm moist cloth to wipe your knight clean. Ensuring he felt loved for, just as much as he loved you. “Rest well, my Knight.” You whispered as you pampered him in his light sleep, cleaning his sheen covered skin and leaking body before peppering him with gentle kisses. 

Damn, you were going to have a lot of cleaning up to do after this heartwarming aftercare. Like properly cleaning the cum leaking from your knight, a shower to rid the sweat covering your bodies, the glass shards on the floor from the broken mirror and the dribbles of your knight’s release coating the mirror like an art piece. Might as well snuggle close to your knight while you can as the exhaustion hits you like a brick too.

“Someone loveth thee, my Lord. So much.” That was the last thing you heard after cuddling close and welcoming sleep which was well earned after such a thorough display of devotion.

[shouyuus]

I think that vi would notice a change in products being used

For example

Shampoo and conditioner, soap or perfume

Or a change in style (I’m going to use myself as an example) shifting from semi feminine to more masculine styles of dress

Also she would notice the confidence that came with it like you’re “settling” into yourself and she’d find it so hot

Maybe it makes sex even better

-saturn

Idk I thought of this and I thought you’d find it interesting. I’ve been finding myself lately and I wanted to talk about it sorry

no saturn ur so right. i think she's the kind of person who would notice the smallest changes; she's so in tune with you, and you can bet my girl is taking notes (if she loves you, she knows you!!!)

the way she'd immediately be like ??? if you're trying a new shampoo or conditioner or even a new body lotion, she'd press her nose into your neck, be like --

"you smell... different."

you giggling, turning in her arms.

"i'm trying out a new shampoo! you don't like it?"

she crinkles her nose, watching you with bright eyes, "no! it's just... different."

you laugh, tilting your head back, "and i know how you get with changes."

vi rolls her eyes, "what can i say? i notice these things about you. i can't help it."

you purse your lips around a laugh, leaning in for a quick kiss. it turns into a decidedly not so quick kiss, and it's all you can do to pull back, laughter spilling from you in bright, summer-sun waves.

"it's good," she says, after a few weeks. and for a second, you don't quite know what she's talking about, posted outside your favorite local icecream shop, your heads bent over a warm waffle cone.

"yeah, it's one of my favorite flavors --" you point down towards the icecream.

"no, i mean -- your shampoo. the new one that you're trying out. and..." her lips quirk up as she leans in to kiss a bit of icecream from the corner of your mouth, "this outfit."

you glance down at your clothes, khakis and a plain white shirt.

you lick your lips, a wave of heat cresting up the length of your spine to settle in your cheeks.

"thanks. i -- i didn't think you'd notice."

vi reaches out to tug on a strand of hair, loose along the side of your face. there's a smile strung along her lips that looks something like predestination. and she cocks her head when she brushes her finger along the well of your cheek.

"course i notice, sweet girl. like i said... i notice everything about you. i can't help it -- remember?"

[dumbgoondog]

On Display(Part 3)

MDNI +18 NSFW

Fem Reader, them getting to see your cunt for the first time. These are short quick reads.

Ft. Todo, Mechamaru(+Kokichi Muta), Megumi, and Yuji

Cw/Tw - horny men, nothin this time

AOI TODO

His warm hands are calloused but the way they run along your thighs and gently squeeze makes them feel so soft like the rest of your lovely man. Todo has kissed almost every inch of you, with a religious fervor that could be likened to the gods giving him a miracle, and Aoi Todo is no religious man but you make him one. The way he’s kneeling before you, holding your thighs and hips lovelingly kissing your thigh, your heart was going to leap from your chest.

“You make me wanna pray,” he murmurs his looking up past his brows to you, and you flush looking away. His kisses start trailing closer to your exposed sex, and he stops right before to shiver with little laugh, “Heh, I’m a bit nervous too, don’t worry, let’s do this together.” And he takes your hand to put on his head to have you guide him to kiss your folds.

MECHAMARU

You thought the poppet was turned off, this was when he normally napped but the stutter and crackle of the Mic said different. Your boyfriend often left his poppet in your room to not be disturbed and for quiet, so you didn’t think much when you started undressing. Now you’re both frozen you wide eyed like a deer in headlights having bent over to take off your pants.

“I’m so sorry- I thought you were-“ you stutter finally breaking from your spell, and scramble to try and cover yourself. The poppet sits there slack jawed for a moment before he begins to stammer as well, “No no no- you look wonderful! I love how you- I’m sorry! Ack-“ you hear a choke of pain from the mic and you both laugh at the awkwardness.

KOKICHI MUTA

His chest is rising and falling rapidly, you’re so worried he’s going to faint or his skin will split, or something! But every time you start to shift to move to hide he’s trying to move to get to you, causing himself pain. You flush looking away, “Kokichi- if it’s too much we don’t have too. Please don’t strain yourself.”

“No, no no. I’m just… I’m in awe. How could I be so lucky?” Kokichi gasps worried he’s made you feel undesirable. You shift nervously in the chair, it’s a bit cold, but you watch him lean as far forward as he can, “please, my love, would you… would you spread her for me? I want to see all of you.”

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

The breath that leaves is like steam escaping machine releasing stress, almost a whistle even, and Megumi seems so prideful. You’re pinned under him, hands above your head, a dry humping session getting even more heated as he’s pulling your underwear off. Those sharp teeth accent a smug smile, as he’s eating up your sight like a wolf with a bone, savoring every bit.

“Damn, she’s a mess, knew she was eager but damn baby, if I didn’t know any better she wants a baby~” he’s teasing you know it but your face burns and you want to look away but clicks his tongue at you like he’s obedience training you. A hand moves from your wrists to palm at your wet cunt and he chuckles deep and low, leaning down and nipping at your chest, “aww, she tryna pull my hand in. You want that baby? You want my fingers in your pretty cunt?”

YUJI ITADORI

“No, please, I don’t need cuffffsss,” Yuji wines and pulls against the leather cuffs with a klink of their chains, but there’s a much more forceful pull and his eyes dilate like when he’s hunting curses. Why? You’re pulling off your clothes and underwear, and you can hear his heavy breathing already starting to pick up and the strain on the cuffs becoming more active, “Hey, sweetheart… I’ll be good, let’s just get these off yeah? I’ll be gentle! Promise.”

Your heart is pounding, you know how much of an animal he can become, he’s almost feral, it’s like all of the anger he’s been pushing down comes out in this primal way. All of it wanting you, the way he’s mounted you and humped you over your clothes growling, and he even broke the bed board from gripping it too hard. You know those cuffs won’t last, but you need to prep yourself, so lube in hand and fingers starting to finger yourself in a beautiful show, Yuji snarls, “haaahh- teasing me? Please lemme- fuck this.” CRK-!

[pinguwuuuu]

“Ya couldn’t even wait till we got home, dirty girl”

.

.

.

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YES THIS IS ALSO INSPIRED FROM A FANFIC OKAY??? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME, HUH? IM JUST A WHORE WITH UNRESTRICTED INTERNET ACCESS.

(I’ll try and find the fanfic again and drop it in the comments, you know I got you :P and don’t look at this hand too hard, I gave up and will fix any mistakes when i render it lol)

[treacheryinblue]

「 ON DISPLAY 」 noah sebastian ⨯ f!reader

▷ chapter three

noah is your neighbor and your new favorite view thanks to his lack of curtains. you're pretty sure he prefers it this way. but the man you've created in your imagination is nothing like reality and you soon find yourself falling prey to a past lifestyle you had been desperately on the run from. trigger warnings : language, eventual smut, violence, mention/flashbacks of abuse, alcohol and drug use, sexual harassment/assault (nongraphic). word count : 7.3k

masterlist

“Where do you think you're going, little deer?” 

You didn’t respond as strong hands circled around your waist from behind, his grip firm so he could force you back closer against him. There was zero fight in you because you had been imagining this moment from the very first time you laid eyes on him. You craved his skin on yours, his lips trailing your flushed body, fingers drifting lower and lower until he was able to trace along your inner thigh. 

“You shouldn't run from me. It isn't very nice.” 

A warmth spread through your body and collected right between your thighs where his fingers were dancing dangerously close to. His hips pushed into your backside, allowing you to feel that he was already achingly hard for you. You wanted to turn around and release him from his pants because it would be so easy for him to sink into you then. All you would have to do is spread your legs. 

Noah's free hand twisted in your hair and he roughly tugged your head back, baring your throat. A low growl emitted from deep within his chest as he kissed and bit up your sensitive skin, his tongue occasionally dragging across one of the superficial wounds to sooth the pain. Fuck, you were going to lose yourself before he even touched you where you needed him the most. Everything about him was just so intoxicating and you were hooked. This had to be what expensive designer drugs felt like. A high you would forever chase. 

“Do you know what happens to naive little deer who wander too close to the highway?” The grip he had on your hair tightened, your scalp screaming in pain. This was going beyond rough foreplay. Noah was actually trying to cause you harm. But why did it still feel so damn good? Your heart hammered within your chest loud enough that it was all you could hear over his sadistic chuckle. He released your hair so his hand could circle around to the front of your throat, encasing your delicate neck in his powerful hold. Your breath refused to enter your lungs, the fear of what he was capable of finally sinking in. 

“They become nothing more than a carcass on the side of the road. Decaying and forgotten.” 

X X X

The dream stuck with you throughout the day. It wasn't the first time you had experienced an X-rated fantasy about your favorite neighbor, but it was definitely the first time it had concluded like that. You usually woke up before it ended all together, your release never coming even in dreamland, though it seemed as if your subconscious was playing a deadly game with you now. Was it a warning to beware of Noah? Or simply your past intertwining with the present to forever haunt you? 

You stood in your living room, bowl of cereal in your hand, slowly chewing as you stared at your closed curtains. It was the first instance you had closed them for your own benefit since encountering Noah and something felt wrong about it but you needed your space. You needed a moment when you weren't searching for his face through panes of glass to get your thoughts straight. The dream had really fucked with you. 

Was he capable of those actions? You still knew next to nothing about him. Your late night texting sessions were spent mostly talking about nothing of importance, only surface level facts about each other. When would you be able to dive deeper into him? You couldn't even be mad at him for keeping you at an arm's length, though, because you were doing the same thing to him. That's what was safest for both of you. 

The sound of your phone vibrating from the kitchen counter broke your concentration. You circled around to where it rested, a mouthful of Lucky Charms hindering your ability to talk. The call ended before you could answer it, but immediately started vibrating again for a second incoming call. 

Speak of the devil. 

“Hello?” You answered after struggling to swallow your sugary cereal in time. 

“Are you okay?” Noah immediately questioned, his voice full of worry. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Was I supposed to be at work already? I thought I wasn't in until 9 –”

“Your curtains are closed.” 

You paused, your eyes glancing to the curtains that most certainly were pulled taut. You knew he would notice but you didn't think he would actually care. 

“The sun was glaring in all weird earlier. I nearly went blind.” You tried to lighten the mood with a soft laugh despite your easily spoken lie. 

“Open them.” He demanded, disregarding your explanation. Your mouth opened and closed with a lack of words because you had no idea how to respond to him. Noah was bossy towards you when at work, as you expected, but this side of him was rarely ever seen beyond the doors of Nocturnal. 

“Please,” he continued, his tone apologetic. “I just need to be able to see you.” 

You said nothing as you crossed over your living room and to the far wall where the window was typically seen. Heavily sighing, you forced the material apart, opening back up his view to the privacy of your life. He stood in his own apartment, a wave of relief visibly washing over him when his eyes locked with yours. 

“There. Happy?” Before he was able to respond, you ended the call and turned on your heel to saunter away from the window. He said he wanted the curtains open, not that you had to remain in view. 

X X X

HOT NEIGHBOR: Let me drive you to work. 

YOU: It’s okay. I don't mind the walk. 

HOT NEIGHBOR: It's freezing outside. We're headed to the same place. I'd be an asshole if I let you walk in the cold by yourself. 

You were still mad at him for his little show of dominance earlier but you couldn't pass on the offer. Noah was right, it was freezing outside and your Nocturnal uniform was not meant to keep you warm in the least bit. The club did offer a dressing room for the employees so you could always dress more practical during your commute but the less time you spent in an area without cameras, the better. There was no telling what sort of havoc Charlotte was in the mood to wreak on any given day. 

That logic is what brought you to sitting in the passenger seat of Noah’s black Porsche Cayenne. His business car, so he exclaimed upon noticing the look you gave the luxury SUV. 

“I'm sorry,” Noah finally said after five whole minutes of awkward silence settled in. “For how I acted…about the curtains.” 

You pried your eyes from the blur of the city so you could look at him. He appeared genuine in his apology, at least from what you could tell. So, you were going to give him the benefit of the doubt this time. You couldn't think of a single reason as to why you shouldn't and hopefully this didn't turn around to bite you in the ass. “It's fine,” you replied, offering a soft smile. “I appreciate the apology, though.” 

Noah's posture remained tense, your acceptance of his apology not easing the obvious discomfort he felt. You studied him for a moment, your eyes tracing along his clenched jaw, down the length of his arms, pausing at the way he was white knuckle gripping the steering wheel. Normally you would be scared if it was Vane sitting there, giving off the same energy, but when it was Noah…all you wanted to do was comfort him. 

“I promise I wasn't trying to be some weird pervert,” he further explained after taking a glance at you and clocking your concerned expression. “I just needed to make sure that you were okay.”

Shit. Did Noah know more about your past than what he was letting on? No, there was no way. Not unless he and Jolly did a deep dive after realizing the name and social security number you gave weren't in existence a year ago. Shit.

“Why wouldn't I have been okay?” You finally plucked up the courage to ask. 

“A lot of crazy people in the city,” he murmured. No further explanation given. 

X X X 

A lot of crazy people in the city, he had said with that arrogantly enticing voice of his. What the fuck did that mean? It wasn't like you didn't already know this, but why was he saying it to you as if you weren't already aware? You couldn't shake the feeling that maybe it was a warning. Definitely not a threat…right? That couldn't be it. Noah wouldn't have been concerned about your safety if he was threatening you. Fuck. You hated this game. 

Dragging your fingers through your hair, you took in a deep breath and then slowly exhaled, eyes focused down on the tips you had finished counting. It was just enough to cover the remainder of your bills that were coming up, which you were praying your thanks for to whatever God was out there and listening. This meant you wouldn't have to beg Jolly to put you on for an extra shift. Amazing. Your pride could hang on for at least another month. 

Money hadn't always been an issue. Your father was a wealthy man, which subsequently meant you were too when growing up, but you eventually stopped relying on him. After finding out where all of this money of his came from, you began working little jobs to support yourself. He never let you move out, not until Vane, so you had no choice in terms of lodging. But everything else? You paid for yourself. You didn't want his blood money. It wasn't yours to take. 

“Not as much as you were hoping for, new girl?” 

Charlotte laughed to herself as she came walking into the dressing room, her hips dramatically swaying with every step she took. She was eying you with one of her little shit eating grins that usually meant she was seconds away from making your night hell, and you were so far from in the mood for it. Why couldn't you just have one peaceful shift? That's all you were asking for. 

Quickly you began to gather your tips, neatly stacking all of the bills together into a pile that you could easily grab while standing from the vanity. You barely even looked Charlotte’s way, but you could feel the animosity radiating off of her. She truly had it out for you, although you weren't sure if it was completely because of Noah. You barely even crossed paths with him when at work. 

“Saw you getting out of King’s car earlier.” 

Well…fuck. Maybe it was all because of Noah after all. 

You heavily sighed after tucking your tips away as you shimmied your work skirt off of your hips and down your legs, only to replace it with a pair of comfy sweatpants. Silence continued to be your only means of defense. Your goal was to have Charlotte grow bored of tormenting you so she could move on to someone else. You didn't think that was too horrible of a plan…if it worked out in your favor. 

“Not even going to try to deny it? Wow, you're already getting around fast. Wonder how long it'll be before the boss wants his go at you too. They're known to share.” 

Venom laced her words, each one meant to hurt you, but it would take a lot more than some immature comments to get under your skin. Was it annoying? Yes. Was it going to make you lose your cool? No. 

“I'm sure they are,” you muttered without a hint of emotion. While you didn't really believe Charlotte, you also couldn't say for sure. These men were still mostly strangers to you, especially Jolly. There was no way of knowing what sort of vile or perverse things they got into behind closed doors. 

As you snatched your bag out of your locker, you made a beeline for the door that would lead you away from Charlotte and closer to the safety of your own home. Multiple pairs of eyes watched you from the circle of mirrors, all of them curious as to what would happen next. You wanted to yell that there would be no show for them but you were immediately proven wrong. The rough collision of a bony shoulder into your own made you stagger back a step. Did she really just fucking shoulder check you? Your eyes remained set forward, jaw clenched, heart rate increasing by the second. 

Now that would cause you to lose your cool. 

The bag you held was then released from your grip and you rushed over to the mostly plastic blonde. She gasped at the sudden motions you made, the sound of it being silenced from the way you forced her roughly into the wall. Your body leaned into hers to prevent her from slipping away, the length of your forearm securing at the base of her neck. It wasn't just men you were tired of pushing you around – it was everyone. 

“Keep fucking with me and you will regret it.”

“Get off of me, you crazy bitch!”

Charlotte was looking at you with panic in her eyes. Her acrylic nails dug into your forearm as she tried to rip you off of her, but there was a strength behind your stance that most never noticed until you were having to prove to them just how not passive and weak you were. In your mind, it was their fault that things escalated to this because they were the ones underestimating you. It wasn't the first time and it surely wouldn't be the last. 

With your eyes glaring into Charlotte’s, you waited a couple of more seconds before finally releasing her. She shoved you away, her own body quickly putting space between you in a simultaneous motion. That's when your expression softened and you glanced around, noticing that all eyes were indeed on you again. Only Charlotte looked frightened, while the others were merely a mixture of slight shock and maybe a hint of impressed. It wasn't often that people stood up to Charlotte. 

“You're fucking insane,” Charlotte hissed. You ignored her, silence overtaking you again as you gathered your things and headed out of the dressing room without so much as a glance back. Maybe you were insane, and for good reason, but your little show of dominance had not been done in the name of insanity. Charlotte would eventually come to realize this. 

You hadn't yet made it out of Nocturnal when a dark figure fell into step at your side. You didn't need to look his way to know who it was because you could feel him. You somehow always knew when he was near. It was a lame superpower but maybe it would one day come in handy. 

“Where are you headed in such a hurry?” Images from your dream flashed before your eyes. Your jaw clenched, though you tried your best to remain unresponsive to it. 

“Home.”

“If you linger for a bit longer I can give you a ride.” 

Maybe Noah wasn't picking up on your sour mood or maybe he was choosing to ignore it. Either way, you weren't interested in finding out whatever underlying motives he had for being so nice to you, so you shook your head in a silent response. He wasn't good for you. This place sure as hell wasn't either, but it would have to do until you could find something better. Preferably somewhere less chaotic. 

“What happened?” Cool fingers lightly wrapped around your wrist so he could bring your arm up a bit more in the dim lighting for a better view. Noah’s brows pulled together in worry, his focus shifting from the red claw marks going across your forearm to your eyes despite how you refused to meet his gaze. You heavily sighed, your annoyance towards him keeping you from exiting the building rather obvious. 

“Nothing. I'm fine.” 

“Who did this to you?” He continued to press. 

You finally looked at the scratches on your arm that were the only evidence of the altercation you had with Charlotte. Some spots were deeper than others, blood lightly pooling at the surface but not enough to spill over. The wounds would heal in a matter of days so you weren't sure why Noah was concerned about it, especially when you weren't. 

“I probably just grazed the counter or something,” you explained the injury away while tugging your arm out of his grip. 

Noah’s gaze never faltered from your own. If anything, it only grew in intensity. You could practically see all the things he wanted to say swirling around in his head, though you both remained silent for a long moment. This seemed to be the usual for you – both of you waiting for the other to break first. 

Slowly he descended upon you, his steps heavy and deliberate. You felt like you had no choice but to take careful paces backwards until your back hit a wall and you were cornered. You could've slipped away by side stepping him but something about the way he was looking at you had you in a daze. You didn't want to be anywhere but beneath his sights. 

His tattooed fingers ghosted along your injured forearm and over your shoulder, only to pause at the angle of your jaw. Your breath hitched in your throat, chills forming along your skin in the wake of his touch. Fuck. Was this another dream? It felt very real but you weren't going to put it past your subconscious to conjure up such a scenario. 

“You need to tell me if someone here is hurting you.” His voice was low and soothing, the epitome of danger. The backs of his fingers then caressed your jaw, down to the side of your neck. You tried to remain as guarded as possible but your body soon betrayed you by releasing the smallest of whimpers. You were praying he hadn't heard it, although the slight uptick of the corner of his lips told you otherwise. 

Swallowing, you again shook your head. “No one is hurting me.” 

You couldn't reveal the culprit of the scratches without also throwing yourself under the bus. Charlotte may have been the instigator, as usual, but you overreacted in a way that wasn't characteristically you. You were at just as much fault as she was and you couldn't stand having another little talk with Charlotte, Noah, and Jolly about it. 

What if Noah's view on you changed if he were to find out about the secrets and darkness lurking within you? 

He breathed out through his nose as his hand fell away from your body. You could tell that he was disappointed in your response, easily seeing through the lie. But what could he do? Clearing his throat, he took a step back while slipping his hand into his pocket, mimicking your nod. 

“Let me know when you're home safe.” Noah requested, or more so demanded, before leaving you in the corner and heading back the way he had come. 

NOAH 

That goddamn whimper was going to be the death of him. It replayed on a loop in his head again and again, the smallest of sounds becoming his new favorite song. He wanted to know what other sort of noises he could pull from you. Were you all heavy breaths and whimpers when it came down to it? Or were you loud and unapologetic for the sounds of pleasure erupting from you? His dick twitched at the mere thought, causing him to mentally scold himself for stooping to such levels. 

Shaking off all thoughts of you, he typed the code into the keypad that separated him from Jolly’s office. The lock released, allowing him entry. Jolly sat behind his desk wearing the same perplexed expression as usual, his eyes focused on his computer screen. Neither said anything, the only sound coming from Noah dropping down into the chair across from the desk. He could be more relaxed when it was just the two of them – his mask temporarily removed. 

“I still haven't gotten a hit.” 

Jolly had been trying his best to find any sort of information about you, but ultimately came up empty handed. Your name led nowhere. Social security number, nowhere. Even the fucking phone number had zero information tied to it. You were obviously trying to hide yourself and it was clear you had paid someone a pretty penny to do so. 

“I don't think she's dangerous. She doesn't seem like she knows anything about her other…employer.” Noah shrugged, his hands folded and resting on his lower stomach. He wanted to believe that this was true. He wanted so badly to believe that you weren't placed in his path on purpose by an opposing force. Maybe fate was blessing him for once and you were something good. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, man. You're already caught up on her?” Jolly shook his head, a chuckle of disbelief sounding from him. 

“I'm not caught up,” he defended. “I just don't see the reason for wasting our resources on one girl. I mean, think about it.” Noah shifted his position so he was leaning forward, elbows propped up on his knees. “We make a living off girls who don't want to be found. Never once have you doubted them.” 

“Their situations aren't the same and you know that.” 

“How do we know her situation isn't the same?” 

It wasn’t often that Noah disagreed with his best friend because their opinions and morals typically aligned. So why was Jolly so stuck on this? 

“Fucking pussy whipped.” Jolly muttered with a shake of his head. 

That made Noah’s hands twitch, his lips pressing into a straight line that told Jolly he was walking on thin ice. They may be best friends and business partners, but not even that would stop Noah from putting him in his place if he had to. 

The ringing of Jolly’s phone cut through the thickening tension, allowing them both a moment to decompress. 

“Now?” He questioned the person on the other line, his eyes rolling. “Why the fuck is someone here now?” 

Noah raised his brows. Visitors? 

“Were they searched? Thoroughly?” Jolly paused, the other person speaking. “Fine. Bring them up.” 

“Who is it?” Noah rolled his shoulders back while standing from the chair so he could take his spot at Jolly’s side. He thought this was going to be a relaxing night but from the clench in his friend's jaw, it didn't seem as if it was headed that way. 

“Never heard of them. They're from out of state.” 

The words were murmured just as a knock came from the door, which Jolly promptly pressed the button beneath his desk to unlock. Three men came waltzing in, all of them with a chip on their shoulders. One guy was bigger than him and Jolly put together, the other two more their size. Noah studied them all, remembering as many defining characteristics as he could just in case shit went south. One could never be too careful. 

“You're Jolly?” The man in the center spoke, his eyes looking the boss up and down as if he wasn't impressed. 

“In the flesh.”

All three men chuckled to themselves but their focus remained forward. Or so Noah assumed, considering the man on the right was wearing a pair of dark tinted sunglasses. It was night time and they were indoors but who was he to judge someone’s unfortunate fashion choices? 

“You can call me Dante,” Center Man lamely introduced himself. 

Jolly gave a slight nod, his body language reading as neutral but Noah knew otherwise. “What can I help you gentlemen with?” 

The man in the center, Dante, rummaged through the pocket of his coat, immediately sending Noah’s senses into high alert. His fingertips grazed the handle of the knife he had slid up his sleeve as he crossed his arms in a nonchalant manner. No way were these imbeciles getting the jump on them. 

“We’re looking for someone. A girl.” 

Laughter erupted from Jolly, his gaze shifting back to Noah who joined in on the laughter, but only faintly. 

“Aren't we all? I, myself, would love to find a natural red head with a bright smile, about…this tall.” He held his hand up to about the height of his shoulder, a dreamy exhale to follow. “No luck so far, I'm afraid.” 

Dante tossed a picture down onto the desk, his demeanor proving how uninterested he was in Jolly’s jokes. “We're looking for this girl. A friend said she's been hanging around your establishment.” 

Noah stepped forward so he could peer down at the image while Jolly did the same. His insides churned, all thoughts briefly leaving his mind. On the inside he was spinning, but on the outside he appeared as collected as ever. He always did have a poker face that couldn't be rivaled. It had never failed him before but seeing your face between Jolly’s fingers was surely putting it to the test. 

Heavily exhaling, Jolly held the picture up higher as if he was thoroughly examining it. There was no doubting who it was staring back at them, though. Your face was one he had memorized perfectly by now. 

“Can't say she looks familiar,” the boss placed the picture back down, pushing it towards the men. “I think I'd remember a pretty little thing like that. I guess your friend was misinformed.” 

Noah knew Jolly was acting his part but that didn't stop his molars from grinding at the way he spoke of you. He glanced between all three men, his eyes lingering just a bit longer on Sunglasses Man due to the way his fist clenched in response to Jolly’s statement. 

Interesting. 

“And what about you? Seen her around?” 

The question was now directed at Noah, which he promptly responded to with a shake of his head. “Being head of security, I have a decent memory of those who come and go from here, especially if it's on the regular. But I've never seen this girl before.” 

“You don't think she could've slipped through unnoticed?” Dante followed up with another question, his stare menacing. 

Noah merely raised a brow, a silent warning for the unknown man to realize who the fuck he was talking to. 

To break through the silence, Jolly cleared his throat, a hand motioning down to the picture of you again. “Is she dangerous? Someone we should be on the lookout for?” 

The picture was snatched from the table and securely tucked away in Dante’s pocket again. He glanced to Sunglasses before giving a mediocre shrug and wickedly grinning. “You could say that.” 

Slowly nodding, Jolly took a few steps around his desk so he could be more head on with the men. He continued to keep his composure friendly and calm, a hand extending out towards the only door in the office. “If there's nothing else we can do for you, let me walk you back down. Maybe we can have a drink on the house.” 

The unknown men murmured amongst each other but ultimately followed the boss’ guidance out of the office, Sunglasses taking a final look back to Noah. He didn't need to see his eyes to know that he was looking him up and down, probably trying to memorize everything he could just as Noah had. 

There were a few short seconds where it was Jolly and Noah left, just enough time for Jolly to convey a look that told him to get to the bottom of this. 

He didn't need to be told twice. Not when his mind was already racing with different scenarios. Maybe Jolly was right and you were working for the enemy, thus making you a risk. That just wasn't the sort of feeling Noah got when he was with you, though, but there was always a chance. He didn't know you. What if everything you had ever said about yourself was a complete lie? A fabricated version meant to get close to him in order to tear apart his business from the inside out? 

Noah ran a hand over his face, his thumb and forefinger pressing into his eyes while he released a sigh of pure frustration. There was a headache brewing beneath the surface, the pressure beginning to build. Before he could get too caught up in his thoughts, the feeling of his phone vibrating within his pocket brought him back down from the edge. 

YOU: Made it home. 

Attached was a picture of your window with the curtains pulled open still. He could barely make out the image of your reflection silhouetted on the glass. 

Good, because this meant he knew exactly where to find you. 

READER

You could've sworn you had turned all the lights off. Actually, you were pretty certain of it. You vividly remember flipping the light switch down in your kitchen and living room before going to shower because your sleeve had gotten hung…so why was there now a dim glow illuminating the hallway in front of your room? Although you were tired, you knew you weren't that tired to have imagined it. 

One hand rubbed your sleep heavy eyes as the other trailed the wall to help you maintain your balance. You were half conscious; your hair was still damp, so you knew you hadn't been asleep for too long, but it was seemingly just the right amount to leave you slightly disoriented. As you came to a stop in the living room, your gaze narrowed at the back of the figure standing in front of your window. That's when your heart immediately began to race, your eyes widening, the adrenaline seeping into your veins. Your first instinct was to run but your body hesitated to the command. 

No. It couldn't be. He wasn't…you had…it was impossible for Vane to be there. 

“You're a heavy sleeper.” 

Blinking, you took a step back. That voice didn't belong to Vane. It was far too calming. Not quite manic enough. 

“I wasn't exactly quiet when I helped myself to a glass of water after washing your dishes.” 

“Noah?” 

The man turned, his brows raised while taking in the image of your stumped and alarmed face. You were sure you were quite the sight right then. His features began to sharpen the longer you stared at him, your bearings slowly returning to you. Damn. You really must've been in a deep sleep for it to be taking this long to wear off. 

“What are you doing here? How…” you glanced to your front door that was still securely locked. “How did you get in?” 

Was it odd that you still weren't scared of him? How fucked up did that make you? There you were, standing pantsless and unarmed, with a mostly unknown man staring at you as if you were his prey. Someone sane would've ran for a weapon - the side lamp was closest to you - but the thought didn't even cross your mind. Fuck, he really did have you under some sort of spell. 

“I have a question for you, but I'm only going to ask it once.” Noah slowly began to close the space between you until he was within arms reach. You followed every motion, your hands fisted at your side – not in preparation to defend yourself, but so you weren't tempted to touch him. 

“And you only have one chance to answer it honestly. Tell me that you understand.” 

You gave a small nod, the response barely noticeable. You knew you needed to run. You needed to put as much space between you two as you possibly could. Did you do either of those things? Of course not. 

Noah’s eyes trailed your face. You could see him shifting from your own eyes, to your nose, and then down to your lips. He briefly paused, straightened his posture and hardened his expression, then bore into your eyes again. You noticed the mask from Nocturnal being pulled down. This wasn't going to be the hot neighbor version of Noah you had grown fond of. 

“Who are you?”

Fuck. 

Your head shook in feigned confusion, brows furrowing. “What do you mea–”

Suddenly his hand was around your throat, all words halting on your tongue. Your head was forced back due to his firm grip, giving you no choice but to look up at him. The hold he had on you wasn't painful despite his strength which told you that he wasn't out for blood…yet. His lips pressed into a thin line to showcase his impatience, a deep exhale exiting from his nose. This may be the first time you actually felt threatened by Noah. And for good reason considering your life was literally in his hands. 

“I'm not going to repeat myself.” 

You grabbed his wrist as his hand tightened around your throat. It wasn't enough to cut off your breathing, but it did convey the warning you knew he was trying to extend. Your gaze remained locked on his, silently begging with your eyes for him to let you go. Noah appeared none the wiser to it and instead dragged you closer against him until your bodies were flush. Any other time you would have been ecstatic for the closeness. 

Tears began welling in your eyes and you shook your head the best you could. “I can't,” you gasped. 

“Then tell me who sent you.” Noah demanded before roughly guiding you back into the closest wall. His body still never strayed from yours. 

“What?” You were definitely confused now. “No one sent me!” Releasing his wrist, you began to push at his chest in a vain attempt to get him off of you. As much as you enjoyed the warmth and hardness of his body along yours, you weren't prepared to die for it. 

“I don't believe in coincidences. You just so happened to move into an apartment with a perfect view of mine and then get a job at the club I own? Someone planted you and I need you to tell me who.” 

Noah was fighting off every push and smack you made to his chest with only one hand as if he had played this game hundreds of times. You groaned in frustration, a string of jumbled profanities escaping past your lips. 

“I moved here because it's where my best friend lives! She also knows Shauna, who's the person that suggested I apply at Nocturnal! Now get off of me!” 

Finally your hand collided with his cheek in a loud slap that sent his head twisting to the side. Your motions stalled, eyes widening, both of you falling silent. Noah’s jaw clenched hard enough that you could see the tick of the muscle straining. There was a part of you that wanted to know what it would feel like beneath your tongue despite the current position he had you in. That part of yourself scared you a little bit. You were supposed to be fearful of this man, right? He had broken into your home and was now interrogating you, all actions that would panic a normal person. 

Little did Noah know, you had endured much worse and come out the victor. That's how you were still here today. 

Before you could further react, Noah had you turned around and shoved into the wall again with a force that temporarily had you seeing stars. The front of his body pressed into your back, his mouth situated close enough to your ear that you could feel the shift of his lips with every word he spoke. 

“Why are you lying to me?” A shiver raced down your spine, his voice low and threatening. Gone was the calming tone. Something about it was getting the opposite intended reaction from you, though. You had to press your thighs together to get your thoughts straight enough to respond. 

“I'm not…I swear. That's the truth.” 

Your breathing was slightly labored, strands of hair that had fallen into your face now waving with every exhale. Noah didn't lessen his hold on you but you could feel his body relax somewhat, his left hand lifting to brush your hair gently from your face. He then gripped your chin and turned your head until you were peering at him from over your shoulder. The tension around his eyes had softened, so you allowed your own expression to do the same. You could've fought him off if you really wanted to. Deep down you knew this. So…why weren't you? 

Silence overcame you both. Each challenging the other.

“Do people want you dead?” You finally asked when he made no move to speak again. He seemed too distracted by the shape of your lips – that being where his eyes had lingered. 

“Yes, a few.” 

“They're dangerous?” 

Noah nodded, his fingers flexing along your jaw. “Yes.”

“Are you…dangerous?” 

After a brief moment of contemplation, he again nodded. “When I have to be.”

“Who are you?” This time you asked the million dollar question of him, your voice a near whisper but still unwavering. 

A faint smirk pulled at Noah’s lips and then he was leaning in closer, your faces on the verge of touching. You could feel his breath on your cheek, the minty scent clouding your senses and causing you to involuntarily push back against him. He must have liked that by the way he sharply inhaled, his free hand dropping to palm your hip with a near bruising grip. Only an inch or so further and his fingertips would be grazing your bare thigh – something you were idiotically hoping for.  

As if he could read your mind, his hand began a slow descent past the hem of the oversized tee you were wearing. Noah took his time tracing your skin, drifting closer and closer to the thin material of your panties, only to pause the moment he made contact. Images from your dream swirled within your mind again. Were you some kind of psychic or something? This was all feeling way too familiar. 

“I think I asked you first.” 

You breathed out shakily. Every nerve in your body was on fire. You had never craved another person like you did him, even when he was threatening you. 

Did you cave in to his demands and tell him who you were? Was that a risk you were willing to take? You weren't so sure. If you confessed to everything and ended up dead because of it, then you would have no one to blame but yourself. And what if he also ended up six feet under? You would never be able to forgive yourself. 

“Noah…please…” your voice shook and your bottom lip quivered, tears still threatening to fall past your lashes. You needed him to believe you and to stop digging; not just for your safety, but also his. “I promise I'm not after you or the club.” 

He scoffed from the back of his throat in response, his gaze intensifying ever so slightly again. “You expect me to believe that? After seeing the type of people that are asking about you? Who you work for? It's going to take more than some pretty begging to convince me otherwise.” 

Wait…what? 

Your body jerked slightly – an attempt to move away from him but the annoying fucking wall was in the way. Quickly you made a rash decision and pushed his hand from between your thighs (something you were sure you would come to regret) and then sent your elbow driving back into his chest. Noah grunted on impact, though his body only stumbled back a couple of steps before he was righting himself. That was fine. It was more than enough room for you to turn to face him. 

In a swift motion, you had his knife in your grasp after slyly snatching it from his pocket, the blade extended and pointed at his neck. He shouldn't have been so obvious about where he kept it when you were around. His fault for underestimating you. All this time he never thought of you as a threat and look at where that landed him. 

“What did you just say?” 

“Give me the knife.” Noah held one hand out towards you as the other rubbed the spot on his chest you had made contact with. You liked that you had been able to take him by surprise. 

“Who? Who was asking about me?!”

This was all you were concerned about. You no longer gave a fuck about who Noah thought you were or what he thought you were after because none of it mattered when you were still actively being hunted. 

Noah's lips curved into a sideways smirk yet again, his eyes then looking you up and down as if this was the first time he had ever seen you. And maybe it was. You clearly were no longer his curious and innocent neighbor with a staring problem. No, you were his stubborn as fuck neighbor that knew her way around a weapon and would use one unapologetically if pushed to it. 

“You know what…” Noah stood to his full height and adjusted the jacket he wore by tugging on the front. He took on an impressed face, his hands raising to silently show his surrender. “You can keep it.”

Silence continued to overtake you as you studied his every move. You weren't going to let your guard down. Not now that you knew what he was capable of, at least to an extent. One wrong move and you could end the night with this blade in your chest. 

“Tell me who would be looking for you and I'll see what I can do to help.”

“Why the hell would you do that when I'm still pointing a knife at you?” 

“Because you're obviously scared.” 

Noah was right. As much as you hated to admit it, you were scared. It wasn't a secret, but you did greatly dislike showing any sort of weakness in that realm. Never had it gotten you anywhere before but bruised and sometimes bloodied. 

You didn't even notice as Noah approached. You were too lost in your mind. He carefully took the knife from your trembling hand, his touch hesitant but soft. The tough exterior you had tried to wear so well finally cracked, your true fear showing through. Tears that had been held at bay all this time broke free and a couple of droplets slowly slid down your flushed cheeks. 

“Anyone looking for me wants me dead,” you revealed in a barely-there murmur. 

Almost immediately his arms were wrapped around you. Noah pulled you in close, allowing you to tuck your head into his chest where your tears could freely fall. You clung to him, your fingers grasping at the back of his jacket and fisting the material into your palms. There was barely a time you had felt safe in years, not until that very moment. 

“I'll tell you, okay? I'll tell you whatever you need to know.” Your words found space between your hiccups and sniffles. You were trying to put the dam back into place so your tears would cease, but that would always be much easier said than done. 

Noah shifted until he could grasp your shoulders. He pulled you away from his chest solely so your eyes could meet. You knew yours were red and puffy now, all while he kept ahold of that intense gaze of his that he did so well. It was so easy to get lost in the deep brown color. 

“I'm not going to let anyone hurt you,” he exclaimed. “Just trust me.” 

You nodded while silently praying that you weren't about to make a decision you would ultimately come to regret. 

CHAPTER FOUR

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[rithiathemoth]

i desperately need more folly x y/n art. pls

I don't normally take requests, but this is encouraging since I love her and I love drawing her lol

So anyway, here's a headcannon scenario

I'd like to think she's extremely affectionate and snuggly like a cat, but would not let ANYONE see. She also probably likes to scare Y/n sometimes too lol

[ceruark]

cw: slight cannibalism & gore (no flesh is actually consumed or anything) | loosely inspired by @cheralith's cannibal au

a painful retch wracks your whole body, bringing you closer to the mess you can hardly stand to look at. you breathe heavily despite the fact that the air is putrid with the smell of your blood, and—not quite your flesh, no, but something far worse. you choke on your breaths, your gasps getting caught in your chest, which feels lighter than ever—which feels empty.

you lift a trembling hand to the gaping cavity in the center of your chest, swallowing back the rush of bile that surfaces when your fingers graze the tendons and veins hanging out of it.

you risk a glance back up at the person who had driven you into this corner, who had trailed a tender hand down your chest before doing the unimaginable.

kaiser stands before you, your beating heart cradled gently in his hands.

his hold and gaze are so tender—far more tender than anything he’s ever directed at you. each pulse of the organ in his hands seems to hypnotize him more, prompting him to lean in closer, his face drawing nearer to it with each steady, rhythmic beat.

the way he’d pinned you down and ripped it from your chest had felt surreal; had this been what he was after this whole time? was your shared, precarious song and dance around each other—around the dynamic of your relationship that had long since evolved from merely sleeping with each other—just as a way to get you in the vulnerable state he needed you to be in to bare witness to the very essence of your being, to hold it in his hands and confirmed that it was real? that it was beating for him?

cerulean eyes lock onto yours, as deep and dark and vast as the ocean itself. he’s always been a bit too intense for comfort, but the weight of his gaze now has every atom of your being freezing in place. 

never breaking eye contact, he lifts your heart and presses his lips to it in a soft kiss. it twitches against his face as he does, leaving blood smeared against his cheek and glasses. 

then, he bites into it, the resulting squelch doing little to distract you from the white hot pain that shoots through your chest and down to your core.

your whole body jolts. your leg kicks out, and your eyes fly open.

you’re drenched in cold sweat. the night breeze creeps in through your open bedroom window, cooling the linen sheets you lay on.

kaiser is on top of you, his face pressed into your chest, sleeping soundly.

tonight is the last night you allow this to happen. it’s gone on long enough.

[worstscholar]

I've been learning how to draw and I'm just getting into anatomy, like learning all the muscles and the names and shit. n'all i can think about is law and i, sitting on the floor in front of the couch. he's got his medical books open, refreshing his knowledge of anatomy for my sake. I'm sat right next to him with my dumb notebook out, listening to him talk about muscles and what they do as i sketch. it evolves into him leaning against me, hazy eyed and tired, pointing to different things as i sketch bodies, telling me shit like, "there's cartilage between these two muscles, so they should be further apart..." - "your missing the muscle there." - "there's a muscle connecting these two parts..." his voice is soft and comfortable, a tone that's only reserved for me. he's studying the side of my face, not bothering to look at what I'm doing until i turn to him, so he doesn't realize I've started drawing his tattoos onto all of my sketches, until i turn to him with a proud smile on my face. his cheeks bloom pink and he hides his fluster behind a light scoff and an eyeroll, but he likes that I'm always thinking of him, thinking of ways to insert him into whatever I'm doing. it fills his stomach with butterflies and makes his heart do funny things.

[seneon]

OK NO MORE TAG. here's the fic

[cvntoid]

roman on a busy train/elevator/something and doing things to you whilst everybody else is stood around, maybe you don’t even know him

Of course, he sits next to you.

It’s a long bus ride, considering. There’s probably another.. what? 20 minutes til your stop? And it’s surprisingly light; only a handful of bodies. This is when you like it best, stepping onto the bus and having your pick of empty seats, of empty rows. Just worrying about looking out the window with some headphones, nobody needing to sit next to you. In a pleasant turn of events, the entire back of the bus is bare - you choose a window seat back there, surrounded by emptiness; at least, you were.

He’s in a suit, hair slicked back. He looks vaguely familiar, but that’s a dime a dozen in New York. There are important people everywhere, recognizable faces. The single relief of not watching the news much is not recognizing any of them, not giving a shit. He has little more than a small briefcase, eyes flickering to you as he boards, the hint of a smirk on his lips. You look away and out the window, trying to shrink from his attentions. He’s kind of handsome, actually. Sharp features, deep-set, sleepy eyes. Long, gorgeous nose. He isn’t the worst seat-mate in the world, just… didn’t need to be one at all.

He settles himself without much incident, barely speaking a word or a sparing a glance before pulling his phone out and ignoring you.

Not so bad.

It takes a while, and truly, it’s by mistake - by happenstance, you glance over and catch the screen of his phone. It’s angled at your thighs, your legs in your skirt. His camera app. In one hand he surreptitiously takes a picture. His other hand is down on his own thigh, petting the head of his erect cock in his slacks, tight in that trapped fabric. The gasp that leaves your throat can’t be that loud, especially with the way you snap your attention back to the window, eyes wide, holding your breath, now. You freeze up - there are creeps on the bus, you get it. It happens. It’s not the first, last, or worse thing you’ve seen in New York in public or on public transport. But this is… this is a lot. Of course, you could yell, you could confront him and stand up and cause a scene. You know the driver would kick his ass off. You know you could. You can. Every second that ticks by is wasted, but… for some reason, you don’t. Your cheeks flush and your fingers tremble as you smooth your skirt self-consciously over your thighs, wondering if it’s making things worse.

When he tucks his phone away, you glance again out of habit, his movements drawing your eye. All you can discern is a smug little smirk on his lips as he tucks it into an inner pocket of his suit jacket. His cheekbones slice an attractive curve down into his jawline, a barely-there dusting of five-o’clock shadow.

It must be minutes - right? Seconds? Time warps in your panic, and it takes effort to release the tension in your muscles.

That’s when it happens. His pinky, stroking against the side of your thigh. He’s not even subtle about it; he pets his pinky finger there and then it’s more, his fingers crawling, slowly but surely. Hand on your thigh, and then edging between them, his gaze held calm, facing forward, your cheeks burning as you stare out the window.

Emboldened by your silence, the man’s fingers slide over the tender inside of your thigh, undeterred by the way you press them together just a little tighter.

You turn sharply to look at him, steeling yourself, and you even get as far as opening your mouth before he matches your gaze. He furrows his brow, dark eyes glittering as he fixes his face into the perfect mask of confusion, polite concern. He waits, fingers tickling deeper between them. He lifts those eyebrows, expectant. Bored. Annoyed by your silence, the way you need to remember how to breathe.

“You need something…?” he asks, voice clipped. Irritated. Impatient.

Impossibly, you shake your head, turning back toward the window, and his fingers continue to crawl to push and seek until he’s stroking up under that skirt, against your underwear. A thin, damp scrap of fabric separates your flesh from his fingertips as he rubs. It’s barely a moment after he reaches that soft, plush place that he’s pushing underneath the elastic, reaching your sensitive, shamefully wet cunt. He pokes between the lips, rubs around, finding his way idly like it’s a scenic journey he’s taking, no real goal but to feel, test, push against the bouncy, plaint flesh there.

As he makes his home in the slippery confines of your cunt, pushing one and then two fingers slowly inside, he takes your hand. You don’t need to turn and watch to know where it’s going - he pushes it against the line of his twitching, impossibly hard cock, guiding the way you rub him through his slacks. Slow. Controlled. You can feel the curve of his head, fat, the tender ridge there near the tip. He slides his fingers in, out, before settling into a rhythm that makes you gasp. He curls them, fully cupping your cunt and snickering to himself in a low, derisive way as you spread your thighs a little - just enough to allow him proper access, focusing so hard on staring out the window. His middle and ring finger nudge and grind and thrust against that sweet spot inside of you, like there aren’t other people, like you know him. Like you want it. The way he grinds his palm against you puts a solid pressure against your clit. He moves your hand a little faster against his own dick, sighing as he reaches to undo his zipper.

And then… his cock. Fat, thick, leaking. He wraps your fingers around it and guides your rhythm just the way he likes, all that rippling, firm muscle, the slickness at the tip of his cock helping wet it. He makes a soft noise in his throat and disguises it as a groan.

Despite yourself, you rock your hips - just a little. Just a little, because - oh, fuck - are you really this turned on? Really this fucking desperate for some entitled stranger to finger-fuck you on the bus, wrist flicking as he fucks his fingers into you just a little harder? His cock makes an obscenely wet noise as he drips over your knuckles, and suddenly he’s not guiding you at all - it’s you, all you, rolling your hips subtly and stroking his cock, thumbing the slit as he leans his head back in your peripheral vision, shuddering. He hums, almost a whine in his throat, and your cheeks are so fucking red they burn.

“That’s real fuckin’ cute,” he whispers. So low, so quiet you think you may have imagined it, except he laughs again - a breath. A stab. And oh - that can’t be you, tightening up on his fingers and squeezing your thighs together, closing your eyes and leaning your head back as he manipulates your poor cunt into squeezing around his knuckles, and all that pillowy, plush, molten heat around him has him fucking into your harder, faster. Milking you clean of it, your shivery little gasps. In your grip, his cock engorges and he yanks his fingers out of your cunt to reach swiftly behind your head, tangling his wet fingers into your hair as he guides you. “Down you go - just fucking do it.”

He shoves you down over his cock, and can’t you just resist, can’t you just push off of him, slap him, scream? Can’t you? He rolls his hips up and a deep, rolling grunt issues up from his chest, subdued, his cock pulsing over your tongue. He shoots into the back of your throat as he forces you there, choking, drooling over his balls, over the open fly of his expensive slacks. He keeps his fingers in your hair with a grip that stings, that makes you whine softly as you try to swallow around him. After a few last, emptying twitches, he allows you to pop off, catching your breath and wiping your wet eyelashes, your mouth.

The bus comes to a stop moments after, and he rises up from his seat, all put away and smirking. He makes sure to catch your eye, lifting his eyebrows as he brings his fingers to his nose, winking. “Thanks for the ride,” he mumbles.

[cantstoptheimagines]

On Display (Finnick Odair, Peeta Mellark | The Hunger Games)

Summary — The pollen of a strange flower leaves Peeta and Finnick in a haze. As a result, you’re used before the eyes of Panem.

Warnings and Other Tags ➳ Smut (threesome; sex pollen; oral (female receiving, brief male receiving); penetration (vaginal, anal); double penetration (vaginal, one vaginal and one anal); object insertion (anal); public sex and exhibitionism since they’re being filmed in the arena; breeding kink; spanking; bondage (Reader gets tied up with a vine); brief primal and hunter-prey king; brief knife play; potentially free use; slight spit kink; tons of cum).

Notes ➳ Word Count is 4,190. ➳ Reader uses feminine pronouns (she/her). I envisioned the Reader as being from District 5, but I don’t remember if I actually mentioned that or not.

FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule  

Peeta and Finnick were anything but quiet as they followed you through the thick, green foliage of the arena’s jungle. Katniss had sent the three of you to ‘find more food��, but you were convinced that she only wanted rid of the two young men who trailed behind you.

Understandably so, in your opinion. They were loud and Katniss needed time to herself, two things that did not coincide. Still, you wished you had gotten Johanna as a partner, but she had disappeared with Beetee in the blink of an eye.

Behind you, Finnick twirled his trident with a confident grin as he and Peeta spoke to one another. He was a show-off, dramatically swinging the weapon until one of your ankles began to sting from a strike of cold metal.

You groaned, nearly toppling over in pain from the hit. Finnick didn’t even bother to look apologetic as he received glares from both you and Peeta.

“Sorry,” he chuckled halfheartedly.

“Would you stop messing around?” you rolled your eyes. “You two are gonna scare off every animal within earshot. It’s no wonder we haven’t found anything to hunt yet.”

While Peeta conceded to your request, Finnick decided to give his trident another whirl, “Sweetheart, you need to—”

A sudden wave of golden specks burst into the air, sending both men into coughing fits. You looked down to find that the sharp prongs of the trident had pierced the center of a rather large flower and couldn’t help but laugh at Finnick’s mistake.

It was bright purple at its torn center, which continued to spread the golden dust throughout the air. Red petals sprouted from all sides while thick vines anchored it to the ground. It was unlike any flower you had ever seen before.

You chuckled, examining it for a few seconds longer before your attention returned to the two men. Expecting to see embarrassment and annoyance radiating from Finnick and Peeta respectively, you were met with something else instead.

Their eyes had gone dark, pupils blown so wide that their colored irises almost disappeared. They both glowered at you, chests rising and falling heavily, almost as though they were struggling to breathe.

Your heart suddenly began to race when you felt the air shift. The tension between the three of you could be cut with a knife if it had to be.

Fear coursed through your veins as Finnick’s grip tightened around his trident and Peeta slowly pulled out a sharp knife. One step forward from each sent you bolting into the jungle.

Heavy footsteps followed. You didn’t even bother to look back, running blindly through the foliage. Your heart pounded uncontrollably as you did your best to escape. The sudden turn in your allies left you startled.

But nothing could compare to the fear that filled your stomach when a hand yanked at the collar of your wetsuit. Back hitting the ground, the wind was knocked out of you.

Both Peeta and Finnick towered over you with dark eyes. They admired the way you gasped for any semblance of air as tears welled up in your eyes.

Finnick tossed his trident aside, pulling you up by the front of your wetsuit with a grin. Everything went by so fast — the feeling of being forced back against Peeta’s chest, his knife to your throat, so Finnick could pull the zipper.

Your eyes widened when he exposed your skin. He tugged at the wetsuit until it pooled at your ankles and you’re made to step out of its confines. He wasted no time, immediately indulging himself. He palmed at one of your breasts while wrapping his lips around the other.

“Wait—! Ah! Finnick!”

Behind you, Peeta groaned, still holding his knife to your throat. Heavy pants rebounded off your shoulder as his free hand wrapped around your body to pin your wrists against your stomach. A thick bulge pressed itself against your ass, but you could do nothing to stop it.

You cried out as Finnick kissed, licked, and sucked your nipples. An occasional slap sent shockwaves down your spine.

You were still in a state of surprise, tears breaking through and streaming down your cheeks as you tried to comprehend what was happening.

Finnick stopped, but only for a moment. He ripped up a thick vine and tied it around your wrists, giving Peeta a bit more freedom to touch you.

Finnick returned his focus to your aching breasts while Peeta’s hand, no longer needing to contain your wrists, began to explore your available flesh.

He journeyed down your warm body until he found what he was searching for. His fingers suddenly pinched your clit and ran over your folds.

“Peeta,” you whimpered, unable to even think anymore, completely at the mercy of both men.

He shushed you, pressing the blade of his knife flush against your throat in order to remind you of your place, “Be quiet. We’re just gonna use you for a bit. You’ll have fun too, don’t worry.”

You gasped when one of Finnick’s hands moved behind you to grope your ass. He then took it a step further, running his fingers between your cheeks in order to tease your puckered hole.

“Soon,” he muttered, kissing a trail down to your pelvis. “Want to eat your pretty pussy first though.”

He spread your thighs apart, nudging Peeta’s hand away with his nose. He took a deep whiff of your pussy before kissing your clit.

No more time is wasted. Finnick’s tongue lapped at you and he moaned at your taste. You didn’t expect any of this, but you couldn’t stop pleasure from swelling within your stomach. And the thought that some of the flower’s pollen had possibly affected you as well crossed your mind for a brief moment.

“Finnick!” you moaned. “Please, need time! Let me think!”

Peeta busied himself with marking your neck in dark bruises, using his lips and teeth to damage your warm skin, “Cunts don’t need to think. Only need to open up for us to fuck nice and deep. And that’s what you’re gonna do.”

Finnick’s nose, pressed into your slick, took in your wet scent as his tongue continued to taste your pussy. It’s shoved as deep as it can go within you, hungrily lapping at your inner walls.

He pulled away with his face covered in your sloppy essence, and grinned up at Peeta, “You need to taste this. It’s fucking good.”

Peeta quickly tossed his knife onto the ground, deeming it unnecessary. He was far too eager to try you out for himself.

Finnick rises to his feet while Peeta sinks to his knees. You’re traded between them like an object, now chest-to-chest with Finnick, who wraps his arms tightly around your body. He palms at your ass and spreads you open with a chuckle.

Meanwhile, behind you, Peeta almost thanks Finnick, who, by spreading you, provided him with a full view of both your holes.

Peeta dives in and your mouth falls open in surprise. He was much more desperate than Finnick, exploring both your pussy and your tight asshole without a second thought.

He tongues and slurps at your pussy like it’s an oasis, nails digging into the flesh of your thighs to keep you still. You’ve turned into a moaning, squealing mess and every bit of it leaves Finnick laughing in sick amusement. He even began grinding your hips down onto Peeta’s face, who happily took the extra weight in stride.

Everything is so overwhelming that you almost missed the quiet whirl of a camera. You spot the glint of a lens seated in the bark of a tree, steadily zooming in on the three of you.

“They—! Ugh!” you gasped. “They can see us! Hold on, they’re watching! Wait, wait!”

“Let ‘em watch,” scoffed Finnick. “We’re not giving up a pussy we just caught!”

You go to respond, only to interrupt yourself with a moan. Peeta had shoved two fingers into your pussy, stroking your wet walls at an indescribable pace. He continued tasting you without a care in the world, moaning at the delicious tang of your entrance.

“Gonna fuck this hole so full,” groaned Peeta, still slurping and licking and tasting your slick. His words were muffled against your twitching clit. “Gonna breed you so many times. Over and over until your pussy is out of room and can’t take anymore. Then we’ll start filling your ass just the same.”

“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” asked Finnick, and then he wrapped a hand around your throat with a grin. “Better than any meal the Capitol has ever given me.”

“So good,” said Peeta, voice muffled by your leaking pussy. “Wanna fuck it.”

“Get up then,” replied Finnick, “so we can start filling it up.”

Peeta groaned again, “You go first. Wanna eat her ass for a bit. Gotta open it up anyway.”

Finnick’s wetsuit is shoved down to his ankles in mere seconds, exposing his hard, throbbing length. He lifted you into his arms without any effort and wrapped your legs around his waist. His cock is then pushed inside your dripping entrance just as Peeta’s fingers are removed, leaving you to shriek and squeal against him as he rocks you on and off his aching length.

Beneath your hovering body, which is held firmly in place by Finnick’s strong hold, Peeta took his chance. He palmed at your ass and spread you from below, dedicating himself to tasting and fingering your tightest hole in order to work you open.

With a harsh slap to your skin, Peeta groaned, “Gonna be hard to fuck this ass. It’s so resistant.”

“Not the hole we need to cum inside anyway,” huffed Finnick, before he swallowed your gasps with heavy kisses.

“Would still be fun to try out,” laughed Peeta as he pushed a thumb inside, resulting in another gasp falling from your lips. “Bet it’s never been used before.”

Panting into your neck, Finnick replied, “Do what you want. My cum is going in this pussy for now.”

Peeta nodded and then, before you knew it, his tongue was worming its way inside your ass. His nails formed crescents in the flesh of your cheeks as he indulged himself.

The intensity of it all left you shaking and moaning uncontrollably. Your eyes fluttered as your gaze tried to avoid the whirling lens of the camera that continued to zoom in on your sweaty figure.

You could only imagine the expression on Caesar Flickerman’s face. One of both horror and excitement for how this would change his show’s ratings. Two tributes using the body of a third for their personal pleasure had probably become Panem’s biggest scandal within a few minutes.

“Fuck! Ugh!” grunted Finnick, still rocking you on and off his cock. “Gonna cum! Gonna cum! Take it! C’mon, take my cock and cover me in your leaking pussy!”

He cursed upon feeling his tip quiver inside your wet walls. His cum flooded your insides, white ropes shooting deep into your womb, as he groaned.

Balls pressed flush against your weeping entrance, a white ring formed at the base of his length. Peeta quickly left your asshole behind in order to clean up the new mess between your legs.

His tongue ran over your pussy as well as Finnick’s balls. He swallowed as much of the combined mixture of cum as he could.

He then steadily kissed along the expanse of your back until he stood behind you. His chest was flush against your skin as he unzipped his wetsuit and shoved it to his knees.

“Room for me?” he asked, not even waiting for an answer before he began pressing his tip against you.

You wouldn’t be surprised if the other tributes knew your location now as a series of loud cries fell from your lips. The feeling of Peeta shoving his length into you to join Finnick in his rough use of your pussy was almost too much.

Your entrance was stretched beyond belief as it tried to accommodate the two large cocks that wanted to share your wet pussy. Neither Peeta nor Finnick seemed to mind though, both of them groaning at the tight squeeze of your body.

Finnick held you between them, your legs still around his waist, giving Peeta the opportunity to reach around and fondle your tits. Both men eagerly began thrusting in and out of your pussy, each with their own rhythm.

“Taking us both so well, aren’t you? Always knew you’d have a slutty pussy. Sucking in two cocks at once like a whore,” laughed Finnick, digging his fingertips into your flesh. “Should’ve used you when we first met. Could’ve made you my personal cum dump to relieve myself whenever I wanted.”

You whimpered at the thought. Stuck between them, you could do nothing but listen to Finnick’s dirty rambling.

He continued, “We would’ve been on every cover of Capitol Sex Magazine, you bent over with my cock in your battered pussy, all swollen, leaking so much cum that your skin would be stained with it for days. Imagine it, everyone in Panem getting themselves off to images of you being stuffed full. Guess that’s what they’re doing right now since they’re watching your pussy get bred on live television, huh?”

“Shit!” gasped Peeta, turned on beyond belief by Finnick’s disgusting words. “Be quiet! Ah! You’re gonna make me cum already talking like that!”

“Do it,” moaned Finnick. “Cum in her pussy like she deserves.”

Peeta’s cock twitched inside your clenching walls. Endless streams of white cum made their way inside your pussy. Peeta shoved himself so deep that the mushroom-shaped head of his cock met your cervix, making you squirm.

“Oh, don’t try to escape us now,” hummed Finnick. “We’re just getting started! C’mon, let’s show everyone what her pussy looks like before it’s ruined.”

They both pulled out, leaving you dripping with their combined releases. Peeta seized control of your torso while Finnick held your legs, both of them working together to carry you towards the camera that had been filming everything.

Finnick spread you open for the lens with a wild gleam in his eyes. White, creamy cum escaped your pussy little by little. The Capitol citizens were probably discussing how every facet of your body could be used for the pleasure of others as your fellow tributes showed your hole off for the world to see while all you could do was whimper.

“Yeah, fuck yeah, look at all that,” chuckled Finnick, admiring your quivering, oozing pussy. “Sloppy little thing, isn’t she?”

Peeta huffed and nodded in agreement, “She’s messy, but she’ll just have to get used to it. I’m not even close to being done.”

“Here, get her on the ground,” demanded Finnick. “Wanna shove her face in the dirt while I take her.”

They manhandled you into a new position, laughing at your pleas, “Need a few minutes! Can’t go again yet! Please—! Ah!”

Face down, ass up, and completely vulnerable, you’re pulled back onto Finnick’s throbbing cock in no time. Your hands, still tied together, did their best to find a lifeline, only to clutch tightly onto a bundle of leaves when nothing else can be found.

One of Finnick’s hands pinned you down by the back of your neck while the other landed in the dirt next to your head. He pounded into you without remorse. The air filled the sounds of wet, slapping skin and heavy pants.

Peeta, meanwhile, had gone back to the tree that had the camera seated in a knothole. Finnick watched, mouth open with uncontrollable moans, as Peeta safely removed the camera with a satisfied smile.

“Now Panem can get up close and personal,” he said, holding the camera so it had the perfect view of you being fucked into the ground.

Finnick laughed and allowed Peeta to continue. As Peeta offered the best views of your rough treatment, you cried out with each of Finnick’s mean thrusts.

His hips collided with your ass over and over again. His balls kissed your pussy each time, slowly covering them in your arousal.

“Ah! Ah! Oh! So deep, Finnick! You’re so—! Ugh! So deep! Too much!”

His cock twitched inside you, releasing another load of cum before either of you could comprehend it. His cum frothed around his cock, creating a white ring at the base, as it leaked out of your throbbing, swollen entrance.

Finnick pulled out before quickly trading you for the camera, capturing the moment Peeta buried his cock back into your aching pussy for another turn with your sweaty, whimpering body.

“That’s it,” laughed Finnick, cock already hardening again between his legs. “Fuck that thing real good before filling it up.”

Peeta whined, fingertips digging into your hips as he used your pussy for himself. He rammed in and out of your squelching entrance. A combined mixture of their cum dribbled out of you, encircling Peeta’s length as his thrusts remained unrelenting.

He hunched over your back and then wrapped his arms around your stomach and chest. He panted against your skin, fucking you like an animal in heat, bruising your ass with every move of his hips.

“Pretty little pussy, so pretty,” he moaned, pinching your nipples in order to pull a few more babbling cries from your lips. “I want to know where the Gamemakers found those flowers. I’ve never been so hard for so long.”

“We need to take some back to the others,” said Finnick, stroking himself with one hand while the other brought the camera closer to your rolled back eyes. “I’d love to watch Katniss eat this slut out while Johanna shoves a few fingers down her throat.”

“Gonna—! Ugh! Oh!” exclaimed Peeta, hips speeding up. “That’s it! Do you like taking this much cum? Huh? You like taking my load? Here, you can have another!”

He received no response other than your uncontrollable moans. His cock sank into you once, twice, three times more, before gushing white when the tip met your cervix.

“Oh, Peeta!” you cried, tears of pleasure streaming over your skin. “Ah!”

He kissed the skin of your shoulders before loosening his grip. With a sigh, he pulled out of your wet entrance. He spread your ass wide enough for him to admire the way his and Finnick’s combined loads dripped out.

He pushed as much of their cum back into you as he could before leaning down to kiss your other hole. After licking a long stripe over your tightest entrance, he patted your cheeks gently, “Time for your ass to take on a few rounds. Who’s first? You get to pick this time.”

“Oh no, she doesn’t. I’ve got an idea. I say we give the audience a few close-ups,” chuckled Finnick, before gesturing to the camera in his hand. “Let’s put this in her ass before we have a go at it. So everyone watching can see it before and after she’s left gaping.”

Peeta kept you spread open from the back. You were almost completely out of it when the cool shell of the camera was pressed against you.

Both men delighted in your shrieks of both pain and pleasure as they worked together to push the camera inside your body. It was rectangular in shape and a decent size lengthwise, but not so big that it couldn’t be shoved inside your tight hole.

It made you wonder if the Gamemakers had anticipated something like this whenever they originally put the flowers in the arena.

Finnick pushed the camera into you before pulling it out again. He repeated the cycle, covering it in your slick, with a loud laugh, “Wonder what else we could put inside her. She’s taking this thing better than I expected.”

Peeta spit onto the camera, pupils blown wide, as it disappeared in and out of your ass, “The hilt of my knife is pretty long. How big is the handle on your trident?”

“Big,” chuckled Finnick, slapping your ass when you squirmed a bit too much. “We can do that later though. I wanna see what this ass feels like when it’s squeezing my cock.”

Peeta agreed with a smile. His warm hands ran over your skin. One pressed down on the back of your neck while the other groped your ass.

The camera was pulled out of you in an instant. Finnick placed it on the ground near your head, allowing it to focus entirely on your pathetic, drooling expression.

“Giving everyone the best view,” he grinned, and then he moved to kneel behind you. “Ready for my cock? Who am I kidding? I don’t need to ask that question. You’re gonna take it either way.”

His length roughly breached your hole before you could even comprehend his words. He sank deep into your ass, heavy balls slapping against you with each move as he began thrusting in and out of your clenching hole.

Your mouth fell open with a silent scream. You’re exhausted eyes stared back at you in the reflection of the camera lens. You nearly cried at the thought of your expression being shown to the entirety of Panem.

Next to Finnick, Peeta stroked his own length, occasionally slapping it against the swollen flesh of your ass. He groaned upon feeling his cock twitch in his palm, “Gonna cum again. Think I can put it inside her? I’ll be quick.”

You’re easily traded between them. It only takes Peeta a few moments to shove himself inside your ass, pounding his hips hard and fast until cum once again bursts from the tip of his cock.

Quickly as it happened, you were given back to Finnick, who immediately pushed himself inside you again. A toy being shared.

“Look at us loading you down with our cum,” he chuckled, pressing a hand against the newly formed bulge in your stomach, aching and stuffed with their releases. “You haven’t even done it once. Just been taking it like a good girl, haven’t you? We’ll change that soon, I promise. Ugh!”

He rutted into you as his cock let go of another wave of cum. He groaned loudly, head falling back in ecstasy. His pace didn’t falter in the slightest, but only increased. His pelvis struck your ass with every thrust and grunt that escaped him.

“Since I’m in her ass,” he sighed, fingers digging into your sweaty flesh as his gaze moved to Peeta, “you wanna use her pussy for a while?”

You didn’t even hear Peeta’s response, any thoughts or awareness of your own being left entirely at their mercy. Each of your senses had become too drowned out by the pleasure coursing through your body for you to understand their conversation.

Next thing you know, Finnick pulled you up by the hair. Left to cry out in pain, more tears began streaming down your cheeks until Peeta slipped beneath you and you’re dropped unceremoniously onto his chest.

You’re in a confused, whimpering haze, pinned between the two men as a second cock is stuffed inside you. Peeta sighed happily as he took control of your pussy while Finnick cared for nothing but your tight ass.

“Oh! Ah, ah! Peeta, please—! Finnick, ugh!” you sobbed. “Finn—! Peeta—!”

Everything turned into a blur of sweat, tears, and cum as they both laughed at you. Two cocks railing your messy holes wasn’t helpful in letting you know whose name to call out.

“I can’t—! Ugh! Ah!” you whined. “Too hard!”

“Damn right, we’re too hard!” hissed Finnick. “Don’t know how long it’s gonna take for our cocks to go down. Feel like I could fuck your ass forever.”

Hiding away in the crevice of Peeta’s neck, you whimpered and squirmed between them. A knot grew within your stomach and tension took over your core, a wave of pleasure preparing to overwhelm your senses.

“Tightening up, aren’t you?” moaned Peeta, gripping the back of your neck with a large, warm hand. “About to cum again. Do it with me.”

“Me too,” panted Finnick, spreading your cheeks to watch their cocks disappear in and out of you. “C’mon, sweetheart, cum for us. Your pussy’s earned it.”

Your climax took over, forcing both of them into their own. Each of you gasped, shuddered, and moaned at the pleasure you offered one another.

Peeta and Finnick dumped their loads inside you without a care. Your entrances clenched and fluttered around their lengths as your slick gushed out of your body, covering both of them in your satisfied release.

For a moment, everything seemed at ease. The humid jungle air was filled with nothing but quiet gasps and tired groans. The light swish of a sponsorship parachute interrupted the peace that had taken over. The small, silver package slowly descended until it touched the forest floor.

If you had paid it any mind, you would’ve tried your best to collect yourself, Peeta, and Finnick for a quick escape. But the opportunity was missed when the package fell open, covering the three of you in another cloud of golden pollen, as dozens more fell from the sky.

[reaping-the-benefits]

May I propose

Soap in a kilt at the Ren Fair

With a fur stole draped over his shoulder and wrapped halfway across his chest, a crest binding the leather and furs together. Fuck it, get him a claymore sword to hand from a strap on his hips with the kilt. He'd demand a real one too, sharp and polished

Let that man ✨Accessorize✨

YEEESS!!! YOU SEE MY VISION!!!

He'd insist on being as traditional as possible. Fur stole, leather accessories, his family's kilt and crest, a sporran, boots, war paint... no underwear...

Actually, you fight him on that one. There will be children there, and the last thing you need is your idiot boyfriend accidentally flashing someone.

"I am trin' to get into the spirit, hen. Stop badgering me," Johnny says, playfully swatting your hands away from him.

"Put some underwear on, you freak," you grumble at him, tugging at the fabric wrapped around his hips.

"I'm covered!"

"If you bend over, I'm going to see your entire ass!"

"Ye like my arse!"

"Not when everyone else is going to see it too!"

He huffs, snatching the boxers from your hands. Thankfully, he puts them on, but he grumbles under his breath the whole time, going on about how you're ruining his authenticity. But he puts them on, and you're taking that as a win for the day.