#drabble: jas

[nottslove]

i keep spamming vixen by ayesha at the gym

main character vibe

event; profile; nav; hi honey!! believe me, i squealed when i saw you participating in the event... i'd never heard this song before until now, and i actually like it.

totally gives off main character vibes. so, i figured, this song would have to describe two, extremely stubborn main characters, both fighting for the upper hand....

enter you and enter mattheo riddle.

warnings: slightly nsfw, fwb, toxic relationship

song: vixen, ayesha erotica slytherin boy: mattheo riddle.

YOU had always been attracted to danger, always liked the thrill of putting yourself in risky situations, perhaps that was why you found yourself fascinated with him in the beginning.

the dark lord's son, the boy who was feared by half of hogwarts, and envied and respected by the other half.

he had it all; the looks, the brains, the charm, and even the arrogance and big-headedness that came with having to deal with all of that.

you didn't know how you stood him. but then again, the rest of your friends in your group did act as good buffers.

you always hung out in a group, from first year, to seventh.

things began to change during the end of the sixth year.

pansy got a girlfriend, so she would hang out with her, instead of the rest of you guys.

the get-togethers still went on, and you would all sit by the fireplace in the slytherin common room, or in the local pub at hogsmeade.

draco was the next to leave after pansy. he too, got a girlfriend.

lorenzo left too, eventually, trailing after this hufflepuff girl he was smitten with.

still, you, mattheo and theo would continue with your meetups, until theo transferred his attentions to chase after another witch he had a one night stand with.

leaving just you and mattheo.

you did try to hang out with him in the beginning, but after the first ten minutes of him smoking a cigarette and you reading your book, filled with mindless chatter here and there, the awkward silence that filled the space grew suffocating.

eventually, you decided that you would rather hang out alone.

"doesn't make sense for just the two of us to sit in silence since there's no one else," mattheo had agreed with you.

your friends did inquire why the two of you didn't hang out— "we're too different..." was your answer.

your friends also asked why the pair of you didn't find romantic partners to hang out with.

"you know me— i'm a low commitment guy..." mattheo had shrugged with a smirk.

"edwards and i broke up again," you replied, mentioning your ex-boyfriend; surely, an uncomfortable topic. "i'm not looking for anything serious right now..."

edwards had been your first love; and you had been dating steadily for a few months, until you broke up once over a small fight. ever since then, it had been an on and off relationship with him, and you felt suffocated in the relationship after he kept cutting ties with you, then winning you back with some grand, romantic gesture.

your friends, feeling a little uncomfortable at the mention of edwards, never brought the topic of you and mattheo hanging out with each other, or with other people again.

and the first few times the rest of your friends left to chase after their own romantic interests, you and mattheo dispersed as well; you going to the library and him staying in the common room, you realized there were only so many places you could go without running into mattheo.

suddenly he was everywhere; your paths kept tangling.

in the library? he was there.

quidditch pitch? he was there.

even when you got detention, he happened to be there.

eventually, you stopped trying to fight the forces that brought you two together and embraced it.

turned out, you had a lot in common with mattheo. and you did get along pretty well, even though the dialogue mostly consisted of unhinged flirting, dirty jokes, constant bickering, dissing, arguing and laughing.

it was exhilarating, to say the least.

you couldn't recall the last time you'd had this much fun in detention, and mattheo made up his mind that perhaps you weren't the uptight girl he thought you were.

sure you did contribute a lot to your conversations as an entire friend group, but alone?

god, he never knew you were so witty and flirty.

it drove him insane.

especially when he insulted you and you retorted by harshly slapping his shoulder and using the filthiest curse-words known to man.

or when he teased you about the amount of books you read and you flipped him off.

the worst moment for him was when you wore those slutty, short skirts of yours and it would hike up slightly as you would sit down. that was when he would catch a glimpse of the lace garter strapped to your upper thigh, holding a tiny flask of what he was sure was not water or pumpkin juice.

whether you were talking, or in class, his eyes wandered down to your thigh more often than he would care to admit, and he would have to excuse himself to the men's room.

he was growing addicted to you, and he didn't know it. he constantly had to deal with his urge to pin you against every surface and fuck the shit out of you.

as the pair of you walked back from detention together, you decided you were having too much fun together to part ways once you got to the common room.

hence you both found yourselves in front of the fireplace in the empty common room, casually betting on whether or not professor snape and the new ancient runes professor were sleeping together.

before you knew it, mattheo had pulled out a joint and offered you one. placing it between his lips, he fished around his pockets for a lighter.

"shit, you got a light? can't find mine—"

you gave him a sultry smile, and an understanding nod. "don't worry, i got you covered..." and then, you placed the death stick between your dark, red lips, and before mattheo's very eyes, you undid one of the buttons of your blouse and dug your fingers into your bra, looking for your lighter, unaware that he was losing his fucking mind.

he had never seen anything hotter.

you didn't realize the effect your actions had on mattheo, until you saw the slight rise in his pants. you knew exactly what you were doing when you pulled out the lighter and used it to light the tip of your cigarette, which was still dangling from your lips.

it was still warm from your body heat when you gave it to mattheo, and him, just knowing it had been stuffed inside your bra, pressing against your tits was struggling to hide his growing erection, which was straining painfully against the zipper of his jeans.

he simply couldn't stop staring, and he did nothing to hide his painfully obvious boner.

you noticed.

"close your mouth, darling, you'll catch flies," you drawled, your voice dripping with confidence.

"did— fuck, doll— did that just come out from your bra?" mattheo asked, head spinning. he simply couldn't believe it.

"they don't stitch pockets in girls' skirts," you replied vaguely, fully aware of mattheo's gaze on your tits that peeked out from beneath your shirt. "you can keep it if you like..."

you trailed off lightly, your eyes flickering up to meet his.

he stashed the lighter in his pocket, patting it lightly as if it were his most valuable possession.

his eyes never left yours as he says his next words, fully prepared to catch you off-guard.

"is that why you carry a flask of whiskey strapped to your thigh as well?" he drawled.

your breath hitched, and your eyes widened. no one was supposed to find out about that.

still, you weren't going to let him know he had the upper hand here.

"been staring at my thighs, matty?" you whispered, leaning closer, at an angle that gave him a perfect view of your tits right down your shirt.

"more than you can fucking imagine," he muttered through gritted teeth, your little nickname driving him feral.

"now now, be careful—wouldn't want you to cum in your pants now, would we?" you whispered, fingers reaching softly to caress his bulge over his jeans, your long, manicured nails grazing against the material and causing him to hiss lightly through his teeth.

that was when all hell broke loose. he didn't ask for permission any more. he wasn't going to treat you like a gentle princess when you were right there, acting like a whore.

his mouth collided fiercely with yours, emitting a possessive growl as he pulled you into his lap, cigarette dangling from his fingers.

the cigarette smoke had definitely messed with your mind, because you were grinding against him whilst making out with him, and it simply wasn't enough.

you wanted more. you needed more.

your manicured nails were buried into his hair, the other clutching his shirt, skirt riding higher and higher as your gyrated your hips over his.

"i need more," he muttered, hand flitting to your garter, pulling it away from your thigh and letting it snap back into place, causing a slight sting of pleasurable pain to kiss your delicate skin.

"this is a one time thing," you warned him, before you gave him all control of the situation, knowing all too well he would satisfy your needs.

the amount of times his sexual conquests had been discussed in your friend group was too many for you to count.

"agreed," he replied, before he took you to his empty dorm room.

both of you never expected to do it again. you both assumed you merely needed to get each other out of your systems, but you were proved wrong the next time your friends left you alone.

it wasn't even one minute since their absence that the pair of you were already making out.

and then, you put a label to it.

friends with benefits.

it didn't end there. you swore to keep it a secret from the rest of your friends, but it was only a matter of time before they found out.

draco had forgotten his phone in the dorm room, and he had come in to get it, only to find the two of you in a very compromising position.

naturally, he had informed the rest of the group.

it was easy for you to contain your relationship with mattheo within the four walls of his dorm.

outside, you were friends. the benefits only came out when you were alone.

he didn't do relationships, or commitment, and you had just gotten out of a relationships; you weren't looking for anything serious.

until feelings began getting involved.

and until mattheo started behaving like a boyfriend outside the bedroom.

he would hold your hand, pull you into his lap randomly and make-out with you in public.

not that you minded.

he was so goddamn addictive.

when you started catching feelings, you tried to squash them, suppress them, but that proved to be difficult when he hung around you every waking moment of the day.

"we need to stop," you told mattheo one time, after he had pulled you into an empty classroom to slide his hand between your thighs.

"stop what? we won't get caught, doll—" he replied, fingers brushing against your panties.

"us. i can't keep doing this with you—"

and then you walked out.

he had helped you get over your ex. and though you hadn't been looking for anything serious, catching feelings for mattheo had made you realize how much you craved the feeling of being loved.

and to get your mind off mattheo, you began seeing another guy, hoping your feelings for your friend would go away.

they didn't.

you couldn't kiss him without thinking of mattheo.

mattheo was jealous. glaring at you from the distance, sitting on the table with all your friends around him.

"i think it's nice she's finally giving someone else a chance," pansy commented.

"shut the fuck up," growled mattheo.

"what's gotten your knickers in a twist?" scoffed theo. "thought you don't do commitments."

"i don't," replied mattheo. "that asshole doesn't deserve her."

"you should stop seeing him," mattheo commented later that evening, when you were left alone with him in the common room.

"yeah, like suddenly you know what's best for me," you replied dryly.

"oh, but i do," replied riddle, leaning in closer to your ear to allow his words to drip through, like venom.

"i know exactly where to touch you to make your toes curl. i know how how to pleasure you; until you're screaming my fucking name— does he know how to touch you? does he touch you like i do?" mattheo murmured, his hand sliding underneath your thigh, softly drawing circles on your thigh, fingers caressing your garter. "he doesn't know how gorgeous you look, screaming my name as i eat that sweet pussy..."

you slowly shook your head, your heart lurching.

and thus, mattheo knew exactly how to manipulate you.

the cycle began.

you kept calling things off, and he kept worming his way back into your pants, and your heart.

until you had enough.

"mattheo—stop," you told him, halting his hand from where it had begun to venture across your thigh. "i.. i can't do this anymore. please..."

catching the vulnerability in your tone, he looked into your eyes and distinguished the slightly glassy stare. "why not? what's wrong?"

"i just can't."

he didn't do relationships; telling him the truth would just make things worse.

"why not? because of the other guy? you still whoring around for him?" he scoffed, sounding completely pissed.

suddenly, a small sob cracked through your body, and you shook your head, completely hurt by his words.

"no," you replied back, your voice reflecting your hurt. "because i made the mistake of falling in love with an asshole like you."

instantly, he knew he had fucked up.

his heart stuttered with your confession, as dread slipped into his blood.

"doll—" he tried, trying to catch your wrist, but you slipped out of his grasp.

"don't doll me," you demanded. "we're over. i can't stand to be near someone who thinks of me as nothing but a whore."

he didn't apologize to you.

you stayed away from him; from everyone, in fact. you kept to your dorm room.

you couldn't face mattheo, or your friends. you couldn't deal with all their questions and sympathy stares.

your friend group was now split between you and mattheo; none of you hung together any more.

you were broken, and mattheo went back to picking up a different girl each night.

it didn't help that you were madly in love with him, heart clenching at the thought of him with any other girl.

eventually, you and mattheo had to talk. where you go back to tolerating each other's presence so your friends could hang out together.

mattheo was stubborn.

he had caught feelings for you; it was obvious. your friends knew, the teachers knew. everyone fucking knew.

he was just too fucking stupid and dumb to admit it.

every girl he brought back, he would moan your name. he would imagine you underneath him.

it was only until another guy asked you out that mattheo lost it all. he couldn't stand another guy touching you, being with you.

enough was enough.

"can we talk?" he asked one night, when your friends had thrown a party in the slytherin common room.

"no," you brushed him off, walking right past him.

"please, doll. one minute; that's all i need..." he begged, his brown eyes full of vulnerability. "i.. i know i fucked up. big time.."

"yeah," you replied, a dry scoff punctuating your words. "one minute only."

"i'm... i'm sorry for what i said," he admitted, after much difficulty. "i was.. i was jealous of the other guy; and pissed at him."

"you're the one who said you didn't do relationships," you quoted him. "so you shouldn't have gotten mad when i wanted one."

"that's the thing," mattheo breathed, raking a hand through his dark curls. "i didn't want a relationship until i met you."

your heart stopped. your eyes flickered up to meet his.

the rest of the party faded away.

the music dimmed, the faint beat of the woofer made the floor vibrate in sync with your heartbeat.

it was just you and him.

you, and mattheo.

"you— you... you drive me fucking insane," mattheo breathed. "i can't stop thinking about you— i love you—"

you didn't need to hear the rest.

your hands gripped his jaw and you crashed your lips against his.

the last thing you heard before you snuck away to mattheo's dorm room was his voice.

"i love you, doll."

"i hate you, riddle," you replied.

but you didn't.

event; profile; nav;

©nottslove 2025. do not copy, steal or claim any works/graphics as your own.

[jamminvroomvroom]

4 with lando :)))

flashing lights - kanye west (respect the art not the artist!)

LN4 x reader

tysm for the request xoxo!! finally continuing my requests (sorry it took ages whoops) flipped my list and went from the bottom for this bc otherwise we were gonna have some repeats lol

images below from pinterest - i claim no ownership 🙃

warnings: none! some swearing, some fluff, lando being a funny little camera shy pr machine - but fr minors pls just dni with my work okay tysm!!!

lando was frantically pacing your apartment when you walked in, eyes wild, as if he hadn’t slept, and hair an absolute disheveled state. his usually sun-kissed skin seemed to get even paler when he heard the door shut behind you, coming to a halt in your kitchen and staring at you as though he’d seen a ghost.

“lando?” you questioned, confused as to, a) why he was here so early, and b) why he looked like he was about to confess that he had killed your entire bloodline.

“baby, i’m so sorry.” your blood ran cold. what had he done? he closed the space between you, tentatively taking your hands.

“lando… what’s going on?” you tilted your head, starting to sweat in your oversized leather jacket. you’d just been out running errands, picking up bits for the dinner you were supposed to be sharing with the mclaren driver, much later in the day.

“i didn’t think anyone had seen us but then i had my assistant, the entire pr department and my mother phoning me, and then max called and said that him and pietra wanted to see if we were okay, before i could call anyone else back which confused the fuck outta me, so i finally checked twitter and there it was and i just got in the car and came here but god, i’m so sorry.” lando finally exhaled, looking like he was about to pass out, with creases so deep on his forehead that you thought they’d stay there permanently.

“okay, lando? sweetheart? yeah, okay i’m gonna need a bit more info.” you over enunciated each word, stressing that you were still in the absolute dark about whatever was on the verge of sending him into cardiac arrest.

“there’s photos. of us. kissing.” he finally said, quietly, and after a good ten seconds of staring at you in utter fear.

“fucking hell, i thought something terrible had happened. jesus christ, lando.” you exhaled, eyes wide. he stared at you like you’d grown a second head, stepping forward to mockingly rest his hand against your forehead as if he was checking your temperature.

“are you… are you… okay?” lando asked, eyebrow quirked. he was shocked at how calm you were.

you’d both agreed to keep your relationship private, and over the last five months, that had gone swimmingly well. but some low quality photos taken, as you waited for some friends outside a restaurant in the outskirts of london, had fucking launched the cat out of the bag.

“how bad are the pictures? are we naked or something?” you scoffed at him and now lando was truly confused.

“no, but- but i thought we were gonna keep this quiet.” he murmured.

“i know, baby, but okay, it’s out. is that really so bad? it was bound to happen eventually.” you reasoned, and lando finally saw your point.

“i just want to protect you, from all of the lights and the flashing cameras. love you too much to lose you to those vultures.” lando dipped his forehead against yours as he spoke, eyes locked on yours. you couldn’t help but smile at him, the loveliest man you could have wished for.

“oh, my sweet, sweet boy,” you crooned, pecking his lips. “you know i love to show off.” he laughed at that, a low rumbling in his chest.

you pulled away, stepping around him and walking further into your apartment, dropping all of your stuff down in your kitchen.

“anyways, i already saw the pictures. we look hot.” you ignored his incredulous ‘what?’, waving him off. “now, come here and help me make dinner.”

[brwnsugcr]

an open invitation. word count: 887

naruhina. blank period era. part two is le smut.

preview.

“whaddaya say?” he asks her in a low voice as he kneels down in front of her, his wet hair drooping over in his eyes; he takes a gentle cusp of her knee, running his thumb across the top, and leans closer to her blushing face. “wanna have some fun?” hinata subconsciously squeezes her thighs together, unable to break eye contact. “oh…kay.”

[sallie-nathalies]

I'm writing a chapter about Jas’s parents and Shane’s relationship, and I’ve come up with so many ideas that I won’t be able to fit them all into the fanfic. But I still want to share them.

Just in case, the three of them are good friends and constantly tease each other.

- Jas’s father tells Shane that his girlfriend is pregnant. Shane isn’t sure if they’re planning to keep the baby, so he feels awkward asking.

"Oh, wow, so...that's..."

Jas’s father suddenly starts crying with happiness.

"Dude, I'm gonna be a father!"

"Oh—oh! Congratulations!" 👏👏👏

- When they first ask Shane to be Jas’s godfather, he refuses. "Does that mean I have to do church stuff? You know I am not a believer, I’ll probably set the place on fire just by walking in." Jas father answered "you just need to put a suit and stand there with a smile, Shane, having a shower once in awhile won't hurt you"

-He insists that he did it in the end, because The Godfather is a great trilogy.

- When Jas was born, her father proudly shows to Shane pictures of the baby. Shane joked that they must have mixed up the babies at the hospital because "she is too cute to being yours".

- Jas’s parents place baby Jas in Shane’s arms. He hesitates and asks how to hold a baby. Jas’s father smirks and says, "Like a Gridball ball, just avoid throwing her around like we did in college!"

- Jas’s mother complained one day that after carrying a baby for nine months, the baby looks just like her father. Shane teases her, saying, "Well, look the positive side, at least your boyfriend must be relieved knowing the baby is actually his." She glares at him, unamused.

- When Jas was little, she struggles to pronounce Godfather, so Shane jokingly tells her she can just call him God. After some discussion, they decide he’ll go by Uncle Shane instead.

- One day, Jas’s mother is breastfeeding in the living room. Shane gets uncomfortable and awkwardly leaves the room. He knows it’s natural, but he doesn’t know where to look. She laughs and teases him,

"Are you scared of boobs, Shane?"

- Shane is babysitting Jas with his then-girlfriend, who doesn’t like kids. As they’re walking, a lady asks if Jas is their baby. Shane’s girlfriend looks utterly disgusted. In that moment, he realizes their relationship won’t last.

- Another day, while baby sitting, Jas insists on doing his hair and paint his nails, so he ends up with tiny pigtails and bows all over his head and painted nails. When Jas parents return, both are exhausted and sleeping. Shane looks ridiculous with all those bows and his fingers covered in pink. They took a picture of them, of course.

- Jas’s parents tell Shane that, both have discussed it and they both agree, that if anything ever happens to them, they would like him to make him their daughter’s legal guardian. Shane just shrugs, "Yeah, sure, whatever," thinking it’s not a big deal.

[bibastibootz]

Thorsten und Sebastian ziehen zusammen in eine Alters WG. Eine Nachbarin lugt in den Flur und fragt: "Sie sind also die Neuen?"

Thorsten lächelt die ältere Dame an. "Genau. Ich bin Thorsten." Er reicht der Frau seine Hand und zeigt dann auf Sebastian. "Und das ist mein Partner Sebastian."

"Freut mich", sagt Sebastian und reicht ihr auch die Hand.

Die ältere Dame lächelt ganz vergnügt. "Ach wie schön. Mein Sohn ist auch einer von euch."

Sebastian hebt seine linke Augenbraue. "Polizist?"

"Nein, schwul."

Thorsten und Sebastian:

[jasmyluv]

[23:56] - Dan Heng - the reader is said to have hair

It was almost midnight. You’re in your boyfriend’s room, sitting on his bed while he sits on a chair, reading a book he found in the lobby of the Astral Express.

You’re sleepy, your eyes trying its hardest to stay open. You don’t know why you wanted to stay awake. There was nothing special happening and you don’t seem to have any important tasks to be done.

So, what was the problem?

The man reading saw your tired, or otherwise, vulnerable state and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene. You almost missed the way his lips turned into a slight smile and the way the melody of his laugh is so soft that you felt like melting, right then and there. He looked so pretty laughing like that.

“[Name],” he called out, pulling you out of your daydream.

“Hm, huh? Yes, Dan Heng?” You ask, rather sleepily.

“Go to sleep. Stop forcing yourself to stay awake. Don’t wait up for me, I’ll be here for a few more hours,” he said. Oh. So that’s why you wanted to stay awake.

“Ah, but I want to,” you stubbornly retort.

“It’s obvious your body doesn’t want to,”

“But, I want to be with you when I sleep,” you shamelessly confess. It would be a lie to say Dan Heng didn’t blush so slightly at your casual confession. He didn’t get it. How could you, his partner for almost two years, still make him react like that? It was a mystery he has still yet to solve.

But until then, he might as well give in to your antics.

“How about this? I’ll be in bed with you while I read. How does that sound, [Name]?” He proposes his suggestion to which you happily nod and finally lie down on his somewhat comfortable bed.

A minute later, he’s in bed with you, your arms circled his waist, your face nuzzled in his body while he continues to read, one hand holding his book and the other, playing with your hair.

A/n: Hii :>> Eyshahahaha this was made at like 11 pm today so it’s pretty wonky. this fic serves as an apology for quite literally ghosting this blog but also my debut for hsr content ! just a drabble of my fav man from the game :))

[soulsxng]

Once Aro was comfortably seated in Cilatyve's room, the ruler wasted no time setting just beside him, shifting about until he was laid practically across the deity's lap. One hand toying idly with some of the fluffy tails that swished idly nearby as he smiled up at Aro.

"So, let's get this case solved! Don't tell anyone, but I tried reading Jassie and Sivel a little, because neither of them seemed all that surprised by the news. Not to mention, Kiri wasn't there, and neither were JJ, or Tia, or any of the others that supposedly work with Creation a bunch. Neither were any representatives from the Aifaen or Setana! When I checked though, both of them had blocks in their minds that I couldn't get past...I didn't push, 'cause I really didn't want Sivel to notice, but it felt like the time I tried to read Creation!"

Tails stop swishing immediately, and Aro's head fully lowers to look at Cilaryve in surprise. He couldn't say he was entirely surprised, and yet...

"You were relieved to hear that I had some doubts too, then."

"I was! Besides, it wouldn't be the first time that Creation has lied or covered something up. I don't know why Jassie, of all people, would keep it to himself, though. Not unless Creation made it so he can't."

That, it wasn't. In fact, the last time the Trio had summoned the leader figures from across the realms, they had lied about a few things then, too. Though the situation then was-- from what it seemed, anyway-- much different now, than it had been at that point.

"I just...have a feeling. Especially concerning what happened with him. I mean, he was displaying a lot of the same symptoms that Creation was talking about that coincide with the Corruption. But if he was the one that damaged their Well, then how could that be? Not to mention what happened when Zahine tried to charm him-- there was some kind of backlash there, and then Zahine started showing a lot of the early symptoms. I don't get it. He's doing better now, but that goes into the whole thing about the voice they both mentioned hearing."

"'Our One True Voice'. I read that. What do you think, then? That the Corruption was happening before, and whatever that guy did made it...worse, in some way?"

"...Maybe." Came the soft admittance after a long pause. Truth be told, Darrow didn't know what he thought concerning the reality of the situation; and having heard it in the fox's mind, Cil gave a thoughtful hum. "I wanted to ask Eleare about it, but they didn't remember hardly anything about what happened when they were taken. They mentioned speaking to someone with retrocognition to see if they might be able to at least look at the memories, if not make it so Eleare can remember them again. But I guess the few that they talked to said something about it being a risky process. Whoever erased their memories must have left some kind of failsafe behind."

"But anyway...Enoch and Baphomet both seemed like they knew something, or had some sort of idea of what was happening when we were there. I don't really like it, but I'm starting to think that, if anyone knows something that could help, it would be them."

"I'll just come with you, then!" The exclamation that came after Cilatyve's thoughtful silence was bright, and again had Aro's ears pricking forward. His brows raising a bit as if to ask if Wilacri's leader really wanted to do such a thing. Not that he ever really seemed to mind either Baphomet or Enoch, unlike the fox. "You don't want to talk to them alone, right? It's fine! And, just so we can make sure we're covering all of our bases, I can ask if Mizar would be willing to meet with Eleare. They've met before, right? You can call Eleare on the way, and ask if it's alright! Oh, and have Sachi meet us, too! Enoch is more likely to give in, if one of his brothers is around."

As always, Cil's energy was contagious-- he always had been an unstoppable force. Aro's head tipping back with a laugh, before he lifts a hand to gently ruffle the incubus' hair.

"Fine. How am I supposed to say no when you apparently have everything all planned out already?"

"I take payment in kisses and snacks." Which, evidently, were one and the same to Cilatyve, Aro found himself thinking, as he automatically leaned down to oblige the little gremlin with a kiss or two. "...I also take tips!"

"Pfft...later then. Come on, you greedy little monster, up you go!"

[vxnillite]

OC OT3 drabble

"Hundreds of years ago, they fell in love, like we did"

a little action x reincarnation au (with a twist) brought to you by Timeless by Taylor Swift because i assigned that song to my partner's OC pair from Avatar (idk if Coda has a tumblr but i will update this with his username if he does)

anywho, meant to be just PragerSpence but my poly heart yearned for just a tiny bit of ot3 (JaPragerSpence) in some form :) i love them dearly and i regret not writing them until now

Phoebe Spence ©️ Coda (@/so.oty on ig)

Prager and Ja ©️ Avatar (not claiming them, tho Coda assigned first names for them and i used them here)

Disclaimer: The Na'vi is called "hostiles" by Prager here. No, I do not believe that they should literally be described with such prejudiced language. I only used it in the parts where it appears because those parts are written from the perspective of an RDA soldier who would, more likely than not, hold such beliefs against the Na'vi. I don't condone using derogatory words such as 'hostiles' to call the Na'vi like the RDA does in the movie. Personally, I don't see them that way either, and I wrote those parts simply to fit Prager's perspective.

Mercs and soldiers ran down the hall towards the hangar, all geared up and ready to head out to battle at a moment's notice. Their heavy footsteps were like thunder to Prager, who was marching off in the opposite direction. 

Ever since Quaritch declared all-out war with the natives, something was boiling deep inside Prager's stomach. It made him queasy, almost lightheaded if he really focused on it. Only something very specific would alleviate the feeling. Prager was walking—running now—to where he knew this something would be.

His gut had been telling him something bad was going to happen. That something was going to happen to her.

More soldiers were piling out of the armoury when he arrived, but he pushed through the crowd, invigorated more so when he sighted the familiar, bright red ponytail he'd been looking for for the past 20 minutes. Prager grabbed the person's arm and whipped her around to face him.

"Oh, geez, Prager, it's just you. What are you doin' here," Spence asked, rightfully confused, "You're supposed to be gearin' up in your AMP!"

Unable to ignore that twisted feeling in his stomach, Prager let the urgency in her voice fly over his head. He answered, "I need to tell you something, Spence."

His grip on her arm was tight. Spence had noticed that much. Normally, she wouldn't take so lightly of Prager acting out of protocol, but the storm brewing in his eyes gave him away. Spence put a reassuring hand on Prager's, and she mustered up a smile, one warm enough despite the circumstances.

"You can tell me after we come back, alright?"

"Please, it's important," he asserted, "I don't think—"

"We'll have time for it over cold beer and dinner." She gave him three pats on the hand. "Now, come on. They need all hands on deck for this one."

There was no getting through with her, he figured. With a sigh, Prager let go of her arm and nodded.

"Alright," he said.

He turned back towards the exit, but Spence grabbed his arm, just like he did, and gave it a squeeze. When he looked back at her, Prager saw her smiling up at him, bright blue eyes and rosy cheeks blurring out everything else in sight.

"I'm curious still, y'know," she said tautly, as if her tongue was itching to say something else. It was—unbeknownst to him. But she never pressed on, just added, "So, don't die on me, 'kay?"

Prager managed a smile even though his stomach just did a flip. "Copy that."

————————

Prager waited alongside the ground troops, anticipating the natives to come in droves while still tuning in intently to their squad's radio. He communicated almost religiously to his corporal up until the enemy arrived.

The ground troops rained bullets on the few waves of hostiles that charged in on horseback. Prager had to pretend like he wasn't at all fazed as people at either side of him were getting shot down with those pesky arrows. But for every RDA merc that went down, three or four natives fell to the ground. Prager was not about to become complacent though. He kept the trigger, rearing his guns wherever he saw blue coming in from the foliage, from behind the trees.

The natives weren't getting anywhere near them, it seemed. A technologically-powered barrage against their medieval, solo target weapons? It was just common sense.

Against the muted thunder of raining bullets, his comms suddenly crackled. A single, desperate voice came through.

"James—!"

Then Spence's line went dead.

Prager's hand flew to his neck. He pressed down hard on the tiny, metal button, and called out in a single, ragged breath.

"Phoebe!"

But he could not wait for a response. Beside him, Lyle ordered a charge. The ground troops charged.

Prager was a seasoned soldier. He's fought in war zones, and kept his focus sharp as a needle while he did. But the scene before him now was suddenly a blur. A bloody, chaotic blur bombarded by choppers dropping bombs on the battlefield. Meanwhile, his aim was just running wild. He was still hitting the enemy, but those were just blind shots.

Spence called out to him. Her voice screamed his name. Prager wanted nothing more than to turn back, look for where she was. People can survive helicopter crashes, right?

But if she didn't survive…

Prager grounded himself as best as he could, and the battlefield came into crisp focus. In front of him, the enemy was retreating, fleeing deeper into the forest in swathes of blue. These people… Hostiles… They killed Spence and everyone in that chopper with her, along with many of his brothers and sisters at arms.

Prager flexed his fingers, then tightened them. The mechanical arms that mirrored his own were now tightly holding the machine gun in its hands.

Make them pay.

A new wave of shots was fired, one fuelled by white hot rage unparalleled in Prager's entire life. Not when his father hit his mom, not when his brother bailed out on them, not when his mom so flimsily excused the bruises that never afforded young James a good night's rest.

The fight was no longer about the war between the RDA and some alien race. Not for Prager, at least.

When the last of the natives had either fled or dropped dead, finally, Prager stopped. His entire body trembled with aftershocks of his anger that was yet to die down—it was only just simmering for now.

Behind him, the rest of the ground troops had stopped, too. Lyle said something about keeping an eye out for a second wave. The ground started shaking, then more and more so with every passing second.

Prager looked up. All he saw was a swirl of greens, blues, and purples. It was coming right at him.

————————

A spike of pain covering his entire chest woke James up into a state of shock and panic. He sat up and looked at his hands. Gone were the bizarre, metal things that ran up to his fingers, and all he found was a thin coat of cold sweat. The rest of his body was covered in it, too.

A shrill ringing startled James even more. He whipped to his bedside table and frantically grabbed the phone. The lit up screen read an unusual date.

8:30 AM — August 1, 2052

James opted to turn the alarm off. He only had two seconds to get his wits about him when a groan came from beside him. The sheets that laid and bunched up on the base of his stomach and carried onto an unidentified lump next to him rustled slowly. Then, James saw the red hair.

"Phoebe?"

James watched as an arm stretched out from under the sheets, then pushed it off to reveal his stunning c—fiancée.

"Babe, what's gotten you so startled," she yawned adorably, "Had a nightmare?"

A good 5 seconds after that was spent by Prager just staring at Phoebe. It was just enough time for her to gather her wits about her.

"Is there som—"

James cut her off with a hug, which was more like a squeeze, to be specific. The sick feeling in his stomach, the tight knot in his chest, the constant pulsing in his head… it all faded within seconds as he sank into her embrace and Phoebe pulled him in deeper.

"God, Jamie, you're so shaken up…"

James found his voice soon enough. "Just a nightmare, ma chérie," he answered as he wrapped his arms tighter around her. A huge breath of relief escapes him.

"Well, it sounds like it was awful," she said while rubbing his back. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Instead of answering, James threw at her his own question. "Phoebe, what do you think dreams are?"

Phoebe's hands stopped moving, and they just laid still on the broad of his back. Without pulling away, James knew she had the most adorable pout on her lips. She always did that when she was thinking, no matter how deep in thought she was.

"Well, I read the other day that dreams are, like, snippets of another life. Past or future." Hints of interest lightly laced her tone. She continued, "It's a pretty cool idea. Cooler than dreams just being recycled shit of our everyday life because I've had some weird ass dreams."

James hummed. Then he pulled away. His hands slid down to Phoebe's, and he held them gently.

"Indulge me, then, chérie," he said, brushing his thumbs over her knuckles. He looked into her eyes. "If any of our past and future lives were to intertwine, would we still be together?"

Phoebe's lips cracked into the brightest, warmest smile. She cradled his cheek in one hand, and James leaned in.

With the voice of a gentle spring breeze, she answered, "As long as we keep meeting, I'd pick you in every lifetime, Jamie."

Then she kissed him softly, smiling into his lips. James kissed her back, smiling just the same.

"And I wouldn't waste a second to tell you how much I love you."

Just as James was about to say something to that, the door flew wide open.

"Enough sappy shit, you two," Alexander boomed as he stood in the doorway with nothing but an apron and a proud smirk on his face, "Breakfast is served!"

Phoebe bloomed anew. She pecked James on the lips and raced out the door, but not before sparing her other fiancé an identical kiss.

Both men look on to where Phoebe had run off to. Alexander laughed to himself, then turned to James.

"C'mon, handsome," he grinned, "I made your favourite this time."

James felt like a big warm blanket was just tossed over him. His heart was bathing in that tenderness, and it showed in his smile. He got out of bed, unbothered that he was only in his boxers, and came over to give his fiancé a soft forehead kiss.

"You were twitching a lot in your sleep," Alexander said. "Everything okay?"

James nodded. "Just a little nightmare. I've already forgotten about it."

That was true. For a moment, James truly tried to rack his brain to retrieve any sliver of memory. Yet, there was nothing. Dreams were fleeting, the memory of them even more so. If this one was meant to be forgotten, then James would let it be.

But for just a fraction of a second, he thought to ask his fiancé if the word 'Pandora' meant anything to him.

"Alright, then." Alexander squeezed James' arm reassuringly. "And I've forgotten something, too."

James pushed his initial question to the back of his mind. "Ah, and what might that be," he asked, "Mon chouchou?"

"Extra flour. So if Phoebe finishes your parfaits, we're having boring, buttered toast for breakfast."

[chicknstripz]

∘₊✧ [[ Kindred Spirits ]] ✧₊∘

Pairings || None Warnings || Paranoia, Mentions of ‘Decommissioning’, Eugenics, Bullying.  Synopsis || Jaing learns something new about the cloning program, and Tech learns that the Batch aren't the only deviants in the facility. Chapters || [1][2] (reposted as the original wouldn't allow me to change the format)

The mess was a riot of sound, a constant chatter that grated on Jaing’s nerves as he gave the space a quick once over.

Kaminoans? None. Alphas? Again, none, the usual threats completely absent.

So why then, were his instincts on edge? A frenzied itch that started at the back of his scalp and tingled down his spine. Another look, another check, but again nothing, his paranoia rising as he tried to narrow down the threat. There had to be something! It wasn’t like his instincts to lie to him about this kind of thing, the swirl of anxiety settling in the space just above his heart as he eyed the chow line.

“Where’s the rest of your pathetic batch?”

He halted in mid-stride, the jibe instantly rousing his anger. Expect the jibe wasn’t aimed his way - a quick swivel of his head revealing the cause of his paranoia.

A crowd of cadets had gathered around one of the tables, their broad backs hiding the object of their unsavory attention. At first he thought the troopers had ganged up on one of his brothers, his eyes narrowing as he stormed his way across the room, but the closer he got the more certain he became that this wasn't a null. Soft brown hair, a shade lighter than his own peeped out from between shoulders, followed by a spectacled face - the set of the eyes revealing slight frustration at the attention as Jaing stopped just behind the apparent ring leader of the group.

“I don’t know who said that, but you better kriff off - the lot of you.”

“Make us!”

He gave the idiot what Kal would call ‘the null special’, his lips peeling back to reveal his pearly whites.

“You don’t want that, it tends to be painful.”

The trooper gave him a quick once over, scoffed, then walked off, which was for the best as Jaing didn’t want to start another brawl in the mess hall.

“That was completely unnecessary, I had the situation under control.”

“Like hell you did.”

Jaing huffed as he seated himself opposite the cadet, the seat protesting as he leaned his weight into its back. He’d put on a lot of muscle in the past year or so, his frame filling out as he transitioned from spindly youth to bulky soldier, and he could see Tech reaching the conclusion all Troopers did when they met him for the first time.

“You are an ARC Trooper, are you not?”

He watched the kid trace his finger across the screen of his datapad, the movement precise as he dumped a mouthful of information that’d more than delight Prudii.

“Kaminoan data suggests there are two ARC variants in production. The first is the alpha variant, a batch of one hundred and fifty soldiers who’ve had their genetics carefully curated by Nala Se. The second is the trooper variant, forward thinking individuals who’ve been singled out by their commanders as being worthy of specialized training. Based on your build and age, I would say you were the former.”

Jaing scoffed. If there was one thing he hated, it was being mistaken for an alpha!

“If I was an alpha I would have punched first and asked questions later.”

“Then, what, exactly, are you?

“A disappointment"

Tech clearly didn't get the joke, the arc of his brows visible over his goggles as he rolled his thumb into the corner of the screen - just like Prudii would do when he got frustrated with something.

"That's hardly an explanation"

"It was for the Kaminonans."

The cadet was still giving him that look, the amber of his eyes boring into him with such intensity that he felt like he was looking at a fellow null.

"You're a deviant then? Interesting. I thought there were only four of us."

Jaing jolted at the off-hand comment, his anxiety rising to a fever pitch at the very idea that he’d missed something important. How could he, the data slicer extraordinaire, have missed that there was another deviant batch of clones? Unless, of course, this cadet had been lied to? He wouldn’t put it past the awiha bait to run psychological experiments on run of the mill troopers.

“I was under the impression the Kaminaons stopped the production of specialized units not long after the Alpha run.”

He watched the younger clone tip his head, his thumbs settling in the lower corners of his datapad whilst he digested his words. Jaing was familiar with what a highly intelligent individual looked like, knew well the tells and traits of someone that had eidetic memory, and whilst he didn’t think this clone had perfect recall he did think he had something close - the gracile brows setting low over his eyes as he lowered his ‘pad to the top of his thighs.

“I’m no expert on the matter, but I would recon - based on our growth charts and mental capacity - that we were produced shortly after the first batch of gen-ones were decanted.”

Jaing closed his eyes as he built a mental image of this new timeline, the production of whatever Tech was slipping neatly between the Alpha program and the gen one troopers.

“So that’d make you, what, three years my junior?”

“Impossible! There are no variants on record that pre-date the Alphas, and most of them are two years our senior.”

He motioned for the cadet to hand him his datapad, his fore and index fingers curling in a ‘give it here’ gesture that made the youngster huff in vague worry - as if he was going to ruin the device.

“Udessi kih’vod, I’m not going to ruin your ‘pad. If anything, it'll be in a much better condition when I return it.”

The kid clearly doesn’t believe him, the hard stare invoking a sense of deep kinship that made Jaing feel sorry for his brothers. How many times had he given them the exact same look? His lips pursed into a thin line as one of them, usually Prudii, tried to techsplain a technical problem he’d already solved. The ‘pad settled into his palm, a familiar weight that settled his nerves as he turned the screen toward him for a cursory inspection. Impressive firewall and VPN, with what looked to be a handmade GUI, the image laid over a system that definitely was not GAR standard.

“This your work --”

He left an open for the kid to introduce himself, the fingers of his right hand lifting from the back of the ‘pad as he did so.

“CT-9902”

“I don’t do the whole designation thing kih’vod, just give me your name.”

“Tech”

“Jaing”

Tech nods, giving him another examination that left him exposed.

“As in the mandalorian training master?”

“Yes, as in the training master”

Jaing isn’t comfortable with the whole ‘being named after a legendary mandalorian’ thing, none of them are - especially not Mereel, but they’ve lived with their monikers for so long that changing them feels wrong. So they live with the impossible expectations, with the skeletons in the closets - the pains of a past that wasn’t theirs stacking alongside the pain of a flash pumped education and growth spurts.

“Surprised you know about that to be honest.”

“I’ve been doing some light reading, figured it’d come in useful if we ever get sent to Mandalore.”

He lifts his shoulders in a shrug as he slips his datachip into Tech’s terminal, watching with immense satisfaction as the cadet’s in-built system checks for viruses.

“Just as long as you remember to take what you read with a grain of salt.”

“I’m well aware that the vast majority of historical texts are ‘written by the victor’, and thus liable to be full of bias.”

Good. Good. Whomever has been teaching the cadet has a good head on their shoulders, which is for the best if you ask him. Too many of the troopers are getting a shoddy education, their flashpumping followed by a hasty run through live sims that made his gut churn, and too few are being exposed to the mandalorian mindset - their inability to think on their feet dooming them to death. He sighs as he opens the file he’s looking for, the corners of his lips sinking as he sets the item to the top of the table, and slides it across to Tech.

“Then you’ll get a kick out of this.”

“What, exactly, am I looking at?”

“A redacted file that was supposed to be destroyed when the aiwha bait started mass-production of the gen-ones”

He watched Tech’s eyes flitter over the information, the press of his lips growing thinner and thinner, until only a sliver of skin remained - the skin bone white with the pressure as his eyes surveyed him from over the top of the pad.

“It’s not often I’m rendered mute, but this is--”

“Unethical?”

“That would be the correct word, however I find it wholly unfitting of the information revealed by this text. ‘The remaining units have been assessed for behavioral issues following the completion of their flash training. It is our findings that they, and I’m quoting here, are highly aggressive, and unfit for duty. Therefore it is our recommendation they be designated Null and sent for decommissioning.’”

Tech placed his datapad to the table, the silent fury in his eyes poking at the small part of Jaing’s brain that formed tight connections with his vode.

“However, I don’t see anything in this report that indicates why your, huh-hum, issues should warrant such an order. High intellect and, as Wrecker would so quaintly put it, the balls to ignore illogical orders, are favorable for special forces.”

“Tell that to the Kaminoans.”

The pair fell into a long silence, a deep understanding of the other forming as they watched the comings and goings of the various battalions. Tech found in Jaing a much needed sign that he wasn’t alone, that there was at least one other trooper that shared in his genius. Jaing felt similar, though he still wasn’t sure how or why the Kaminoans had made another ‘high-end’ batch when he had turned out so poorly.

“So -- your batch -- what special traits did they breed into you?”

Tech shrugged, scrolling his finger up the screen as he continued to scan through the file Jaing had shared with him.

“It varies. Hunter, our sergeant, has heightened senses. He can feel the electromagnetic pulses that run through the facility, a ground based radar if you will, makes it impossible for us to get lost. Wrecker, well, he’s built like the commandos. Tall, broad, and muscular. Can easily haul three times his weight from one end of the sim to the other. Then we’re got Crosshair --”

There’s a pause, a brief breath that tells Jaing this vod is the ‘outsider’ of the group.

“-- he’s had his eyesight enhanced, can hit a precise target from across the mud pan.”

Tech lifts his free hand, thumb and forefinger pressed together to demonstrate the size of the target, and Jaing - precise and skilled Jaing - whistles in admiration as he knows just how hard it is to hit a target that small from nine hundred yards away.

“And then there’s you, the genius.”

“I will admit that my intellect is far higher than the regs, however I wouldn’t call myself a genius -- not yet by any rate.”

Humility, as Kal would say, was a good trait for a mando’ade to have, the soft air of it hanging around the -- commando? Jaing isn’t quite sure what to call Tech just yet, but he does know he’s been bred and trained for something other than regular field work, and that? That riled something in him, the sense of ‘something’s not right here’ sitting deep in his gut as he drummed his fingers on the table top.

“Have you ever wondered why they made you?”

Tech cocks his head, completely unbothered by the null asking what, would be to some, a rude question.

“It is not my place to ask the wherefores.”

“Well then maybe it should be!”

And there it was, the key difference between him and whatever Tech was - the deep and rooted ember that landed him and his brothers on the chopping block. Jaing couldn’t accept what he’d been told as the truth, couldn’t sit back and go with the flow like the so-called ‘regs’ did. No. He asked questions. He prodded and pried, slipped his way into places he didn’t belong solely because he couldn’t accept that life was black and white, and accepted that the later gens didn’t think like that? It was kriffing hard! His mind a whir as he remembered the insurmountable wall that existed between him and his kih’vode.

“Sorry. I sometimes forget myself.”

“It’s quite alright. I too, find my mouth running ahead of my thoughts on the odd occasion.”

Well at least he hadn’t offended him. It really would be a new low on the ‘Jaing tries to make friends with someone’ ladder, which wasn’t that high a ladder in the first place, but hey, he was trying here, his shoulders dropping from his ears as he tapped the side of his vambrace.

“Jate, Jate, I’d hate if it was just me putting my big ole boot in my mouth.”

Tech smiled, the first true smile he’d seen from the fellow cadet since he sat down, and Jaing was struck by how young he looked - his cheeks and jaw still rounded with fat.

“I take it it’s not a trait you share with the rest of your batch?”

“Not to this degree, no.”

He definitely had it the worst, though Mereel and A’den were a close second when it came to the fine art of unintentionally insulting aruetiise.

“I could go on and on like this all day, but I don’t have the time nor the energy.”

“Training sims?”

“No. We’re being trained the good old fashioned way.”

“Perhaps you will care to enlighten me about that the next time we talk?”

Jaing would usually say no to a next time, would usually insist that he keep himself to himself, but Tech? He was different. He wanted to spend time with him, wanted to learn, and who was he to say no when he’d been complaining about Tech not being trained right not half an hour before?

“How about we make a deal? I will tell you about my training regime if you promise to look into why the Kaminoans made you.”

“Deal!”

Jaing felt accomplished as he shook Tech’s hand, the unsettled feeling slinking to the back of his mind as the topic of conversation drifted to what was being offered in the mess. Later he’d tell Kal about his worrying discovery, would tell his father about this odd clone he’d met, but for now all he cared about was this blooming friendship with a like minded soul.

[aoki-fic]

Almost enough

NSFW, giant mamool ja genitalia

Martyn has learned that you can't have safety without a little pain. Living stings. That's how you know you're actually safe.

And he'd rather have the sting on his own terms.

Martyn ruminates on this motto whilst his lower half struggles to accommodate the massive, twinned cocks currently hammering away at his insides. It's exquisite, divinely given torture.

After this he'll have enough for the trip to Xak Tural.

His partner tonight is a boonewa named Gaheel Ja. They met at a seedy club run out of a disused boatshed by the Tulliyolal docks. It doesn't have a name. It's unadvertised. Questionably legal. It's clientele is almost exclusively sailors, dock workers, and those who'd seek to service them.

Gaheel Ja is none of these. He'd said he hoped to make the trip across the salt and was just working himself up into actually doing it. He'd been charming, polite. He'd asked how much per hour.

He digs blunt talons into Martyns hips and lifts him so his toes barely graze the floor. He thrusts home. Gods he's so big. He's so gods-damned big that it shows through Martyn's stomach. He's so big that each slap of scale against skin is almost enough to force the anxiety out.

Instead it compresses. Compacts. Fits into a disused little corner in the attic of Martyn's mind and goes quiet.

He'll take it.

[nottslove]

my fav sang rn is melancholy hill by gorillaz. it's been in my head for WEEKS such a good song :)

event; profile; nav; hi anon!! thank you for sending in this request. it is a pretty good song. once again, it gave me angsty vibes...

it also gave me regulus vibes, i have no idea how, or where, but it just gave me reggie vibes. ITS ALSO VERY VERY LONG

song: melancholy hill, gorillaz slytherin boy: regulus black.

SINCE day one, he had always been your best friend. growing up in a strict, pureblood household was not easy.

especially with your six, younger siblings behind you, and a limited amount of gold in your parents' vault at gringotts.

unfortunately, that meant being betrothed to someone you hardly knew; at the young age of eleven.

your fate was sealed, the moment you got your letter to hogwarts.

augustus rookwood.

his name was augustus rookwood.

your future husband's name.

currently studying in durmstrang, and four years older than you, rookwood came from utmost wealth, which meant good news for your family should you marry him.

support for all your younger siblings.

and so, with this dark cloud of an eventually arranged marriage hanging over your head, you set foot into hogwarts, at the age of eleven.

naturally, you were sorted into slytherin. coming from a long line of slytherins, how could you be sorted into any other house??

being the oldest of seven, you had always been shadowed by the rest, and you often used to find yourself curled up on the chaise lounge with a book whilst you were given the responsibility of watching your siblings, making sure they weren't getting into trouble.

now, alone at hogwarts, you suddenly felt free, away from the burden of your future, and the responsibility of looking after your siblings.

your thoughts were interrupted when a boy sat beside you after being sorted into slytherin.

you recognized him. he came from the most noble and ancient house of black, one of the most prestigious wizarding families who lived in london.

your mother was close friends with his mother, so you had seen him a couple of times.

you'd never spoken to him before though.

the pair of you would simply make eye-contact before he went upstairs, and you buried your nose in a book.

now, however, you were grateful to have the slightly comforting feeling of having someone you knew sit beside you.

you had barely eaten anything; your anxiety was filling enough. an air bubble had wedged itself in your throat, preventing you from doing anything but staring at your food and rubbing your sweaty palms on your robe-covered thighs.

"you've barely touched your food," regulus had murmured with a small, sullen nod; his way of greeting you.

"so have you," you observed quietly, your eyes flickering to his untouched plate, then wandering to hazel-green eyes and dark, messy mop of curls.

no more words were exchanged after that, but regulus and you walked together to the slytherin common room.

you studied together too, and sat next to each other during classes, and even hung out together during the weekends.

one would even go as far as to call you friends.

that was what you had become.

you quickly noticed how similar he was to you. quiet, hardworking, same sense of humor... he even had the same taste in books as you did.

first year passed quickly, too fast for your liking, and before you knew it, it was summer, and you were back to looking after all your siblings and having your mother continuously chastise you for unladylike behavior, constantly reminding you of your upcoming marriage to rookwood as soon as you would graduate from hogwarts.

you were tired of being reminded of it. personally, you couldn't imagine being married to rookwood. you'd never even met the wizard, and you could only hope your parents would change their mind.

you exchanged letters with regulus all summer. yet you never once told him about your betrothal. in your mind, if you didn't speak of it, it would make it less true, and less likely to happen, which was what you wanted.

second year was uneventful, except for the time you and regulus got your first ever detention together.

regulus' brother, sirius had been ignoring regulus whenever the two of you tried to approach him about their mother's letter to regulus, and you had grown frustrated and hexed sirius with a spell you found in one of your books.

as a result, sirius had hexed you with a nose-growing spell and regulus, who was furious at his brother for doing this to you launched himself all over sirius and pummeled him with his fists.

you had to arrange all the borrowed books in the library according to category and author, but it was more rewarding than punishing, since you got to read books and hang out with regulus at the same time.

the summer after your second year was pretty much the same as the one the year before.

for regulus, it was one of his worst summers yet. his brother had run away from home, and got disowned, leaving his little brother to take the brunt of his parents' wrath.

he had immediately flooed over to your house in the middle of the night, and you nursed him back to health as he had suffered the cruciatus curse multiple times that night.

"thank you," he had told you, when dawn began creeping closer. you had hidden him in your room, hoping your parents wouldn't find out about an uninvited guest.

"any time," you whispered back, giving him the tightest hug you could muster. "it's what friends are for, right?"

you and regulus grew closer after that. two of your siblings joined hogwarts that year, and the heavy responsibilities you dealt with at home followed you to hogwarts, the place that had become your safe haven.

when the twins got into trouble, your parents sent you a howler for not looking after them properly, and regulus was there holding you as you cried into his shoulder late at night in the common room.

"it'll be okay, i've got you..." he kept murmuring.

and he was right. it was all okay, because he was there.

you and regulus didn't need anyone else's company when you had each other.

he was enough for you, and you were enough for him too.

third year was also the year you were allowed to go to hogsmeade. as usual, you and regulus went together, checked out the village and bought a few candies, before returning to the castle.

the rest of the visits, the two of you took advantage of the empty castle to hang out alone in the slytherin common room.

summer after your third year was uneventful apart from the fact that you met augustus rookwood for the very first time.

he had just finished his seventh year at durmstrang, and had come with his father to see you for the first time.

all at once, everything felt real.

you didn't want to do this; not one bit. you didn't want to marry rookwood.

still, you had come to terms with your fate, you had accepted it.

yet another one of your siblings joined hogwarts at the beginning of your fourth year.

regulus instantly noticed something was different about you this year. the whole train ride, you were completely silent, reading. or at least, pretending to read.

you didn't realize it, but you had been holding your book upside down, too lost in your own thoughts to realize.

regulus noticed, but he never said a word.

he merely smiled and shook his head.

regulus had thought you needed time and space, so that was what he gave you.

at christmas, when you still weren't back to your normal self, he had decided that he had had enough.

"okay, spill," he said randomly, when the two of you were doing homework by the black lake.

"i'm sorry...??"

"something's been bothering you. i want to know," he got to the point, his beautiful hazel-green eyes meeting yours.

and then, you broke.

all this time you had been holding yourself up, afraid that if you opened your mouth, you wouldn't be able to stop, you would start crying.

"reg— don't.... don't ask me that," you pleaded, your eyes watering. "ask me anything else, just.. just not that..."

you couldn't give him an honest answer; you didn't want to talk about rookwood.

you just wanted to forget.

you wanted to enjoy the rest of your hogwarts life and your childhood before your marriage to rookwood.

fully able to tell you were sensitive about the issue, regulus pulled you into an embrace, and that was where you began crying once more, sobbing and shaking as he held you.

"i'm betrothed to rookwood— i'm going to marry him as soon as we graduate from here.."

"oh, love..." your stomach fluttered intensely at the pet name, and as you buried your face into his shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck, the sensation only intensified instead of fading away.

when had he smelt this masculine, this good?? when had he felt so muscular, so safe?

you didn't realize it, but that was when you started falling for regulus black, your best friend.

summer after fourth year was no better than the rest. you got to meet regulus at all the pureblood parties and galas hosted by different wizarding families during the summer.

it was also when you shared your first dance with rookwood, and your first dance with regulus.

your best friend has asked you to dance when he saw you sitting pitifully on the stairs, right after your dance with rookwood had ended.

the two of you had ended up sneaking away from the party and into the piano room, where you played tchaikovsky together and stole a bottle of firewhiskey from the cellar.

safe to say that you both got drunk, but you had managed to take a sobering potion before either of your parents caught you.

your fifth year was when you realized you had caught feelings for regulus. every time he gave you that quiet smile of his, every time his eyes twinkled in mirth when you said something funny...

it made your stomach lurch in a completely pleasant way.

every time he would hug you, you would blush. every time his hands would brush against yours, you bit your lip to stop the grin forming across your lips.

it only made everything more painful; knowing that you couldn't act on your feelings because you were betrothed to rookwood.

regulus didn't realize; and you hoped he never would realize.

little did you know, he had already fallen in love with you.

but neither of you acted on your feelings. you simply grew closer to each other than ever.

during the slytherin christmas party, you and regulus got caught under the mistletoe, and he pressed the barest, gentlest of kisses on your lips.

it was your first kiss, but you didn't tell him that.

it lasted less than a second, but it meant everything to you.

it was hard pretending everything was normal after that. regulus was strangely oblivious to your feelings, and you often wondered how he couldn't see your painfully obvious feelings for him, and how he could go on pretending his kiss hadn't affected you.

the rest of your fifth year, you tried to distract yourself from regulus; knowing that if you confessed your feelings for him, it would ruin your friendship.

even if he did like you back, you were betrothed to rookwood anyway.

the summer after your fifth year, and before your sixth year, your parents hosted your official engagement party.

after much pleading and begging, you were allowed to invite regulus.

and as you watched another girl, who happened to be your cousin, chat him up and touch his arm, your blood boiled, your heart clenched, and tears sprung to your eyes, as you watched him lean against the wall with his hands in his pockets and shrug.

the girl moved on and before you knew it, your eyes met his.

a fierce jolt traveled through your entire body, tension suffocating you from all sides just from bearing the weight of his gaze.

that was when you knew you were in love with regulus black.

he was your life jacket in the stormy sea of like, and you simply could not live without him.

you needed him.

but you never said a word.

your fate was sealed. you loved him from a distance. he was so far, yet so close.

and this type of pain was worse than the cruciatus, even.

no, you smiled through it all, acted like you were happy.

only regulus saw through your façade.

your sixth year was your hardest year yet. another of your siblings joined hogwarts, and you and rookwood were expected to write to each other every week.

his letters were short. yours were the same length.

regulus had started to gain attention from the female population.

the tall, brooding, silent type is what they called him. he acted oblivious and uninterested to all of it, but whenever he was approached by a girl, you noticed the slight smirk on his pale, pink lips, and the slightest lift of his eyebrow, and his eyes would meet yours, as if he were waiting for your reaction.

that was when you would quickly cast your gaze down and hastily begin to pretend you were writing.

but regulus knew.

he could see.

and he wanted to confirm if you had feelings for him, so he looked at you cluelessly before he asked his question.

"should i go out with her?" he asked innocently, his face betraying no emotion. "she seems nice, doesn't she?"

it was all a ploy to get you jealous, but you didn't know that.

fisting your hands underneath the table, you forced a smile through gritted teeth.

"mhmm, yeah, she does. if you like her, go ahead— ask her out..."

and he asked her out right in front of you, fully aware of your reddening cheeks and your annoyed glare.

two could play that game.

with every letter that came from rookwood, once a week, you made a show of receiving it, reading it and replying to it.

"want to head to the library?" regulus would ask.

"can't," you'd say. "i need to reply to rookwood."

you would give him the same response when he asked you to accompany him to hogsmeade, and when he asked if you would play chess with him, unaware that your responses made his blood boil.

he decided to up his game.

every quidditch match he would play, he would always wink at you and smile, right after he caught the snitch and won for slytherin.

his win was always dedicated to you.

since his second year, his first year after getting on the team, he always won for you.

you were always there in the crowd, wearing his jersey, his number painted on both your cheeks.

this time, he winked at her.

at the stupid, stupid greengrass girl.

what's more, she ran to him right after his win, and kissed him full on the mouth.

in front of everyone.

your blood boiled, coursing through your veins, and the roar of the crowd around you was drowned out by the pumping of your heart in your ears, making your whole head throb.

hot, angry tears spilled down your cheeks, and your head felt heavy. without casting another glance backwards, you stormed off angrily, into the forbidden forest, without a care.

you didn't know how long you were there, feeding unicorns, talking to the centaurs, but you lost track of time.

it grew dark, and it even began raining.

and you were lost; you couldn't find your way back to the castle.

after wandering blindly through the trees, you managed to get out of the forest, tears mingling with the rain crashing down from the sky.

you were drenched. completely. you had worn regulus' quidditch jersey, as usual; the way you did every match.

now it was a soaking mess atop your shorts.

and then you heard his voice.

calling out your name.

you froze.

he saw you, a good distance from hagrid's hut, wand in hand, wearing his jersey, soaking wet.

you were shivering, freezing cold. but one look from his intense eyes and you felt hot all over.

you were on fire.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED I WAS?" he roared, his angry gaze meeting yours. "YOU WERE GONE FOR HOURS— i... i thought something happened to you," he rasped, his voice losing its angry tone and taking a sad, defeated one.

he never lost his temper; it was a rare occasion. and at the moment, he was mad at you for making his heart go through the possibility of losing you.

and you, you could only stand in silence, angry tears spilling down your cheeks.

for once, you were glad it was raining, so regulus couldn't see your tears.

"well, i'm fine," you replied coolly, still completely pissed at regulus. it wasn't his fault. "no need to worry."

you shouldn't have been mad. after all, he didn't like you that way and you were meant to marry rookwood.

"that's all you're going to say?" he scoffed, as he couldn't believe you.

"should i be saying something else?" you prompted, irritation lacing your words.

"an apology, maybe?" regulus muttered, voice laced with irony. "for worrying me? for making me think... something happened to you? for making me think... that i... lost you?"

his voice were laced with vulnerability, spoken with a quiet sort of disappointment, as if he couldn't believe that you of all people would leave him.

in this world, he only had you.

no one else.

you were his family.

"well, why do you care what happens to me anyway?" you retorted, still furious at him for kissing the other girl. you simply couldn't get the image of greengrass locking lips with your best friend.

"i care because you're my best friend. you're all i have," regulus replied earnestly, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the thundering sound of rain. "and..."

his voice dropped lower as he broke off, averting his gaze to the floor before his beautiful eyes flickered back up to yours. "and i love you."

a deafening silence pounded through your ears, and though he spoke so so softly, it was fully audible over the sound of rain.

your heart lurched.

more tears poured down your face, and you swallowed hard.

"reg— i—" you stuttered, completely frozen, unable to string two words together. hope festered in your heart, and you guarded it fiercely, unable to tell if he meant it platonically, or romantically.

"it's... it's okay if you don't feel the same—" he began to panic, brows furrowing together in worry.

"i do," you gurgled, surprising him completely. "i love you."

before you knew it, he was kissing you, hands tangled in your wet, matted hair, your lips mingling with his.

you were freezing cold, and the rain drenched both of you, but the moment your lips touched his, your body was on fire.

you and regulus started dating, but in secret. you couldn't risk your parents finding out about you being in love with him.

they would forbid you from seeing him, and you couldn't live that.

your sixth year summer was uneventful, save for the fact that you convinced your parents to allow you to floo over to regulus' place every now and then.

they only allowed you out of pity.

it was your last summer to be free, to be unmarried.

it was also regulus' last summer to be free. he would be joining the dark lord immediately after graduation from hogwarts.

unbeknownst to you, regulus was hatching a plan.

he didn't tell anyone about it, in fear of failure.

your seventh year was bittersweet.

it was full of exams, and looking after your siblings.

and wedding preparations.

the year ended, and you were swamped with wedding preparations.

you had no time to see regulus.

every night, you would cry, as your wedding came closer and closer, and you were desperately in love with regulus.

the night before your wedding, regulus had managed to sneak into your room.

"pack your essentials," he whispered. "let's run away together.."

and you did. you grabbed his hand and let yourself fall, because you knew he would always catch you.

you knew he would always be there for you.

he would always catch you.

you put your entire faith in him, because everything was better when he was there.

and finally, finally, when you and regulus reached the house he had bought in france, the two of you stopped running.

you were safe.

you were home.

event; profile; nav;

©nottslove 2025. do not copy, steal or claim any works/graphics as your own.

[little-diable]

Christmas Trip - Jasper Hale (smut)

Just another Christmas Drabble. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. Xxx

Summary: Jasper takes the reader to a Christmas market and she’s ready to properly thank him for it.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (m), road head

Pairing: Jasper Hale x fem!reader (1k words)

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” (Y/n)’s soft voice filled the car, eyes set on Jasper’s features. He shot her a smile, cold hand finding her cheek to pull her in for a kiss that made her heart skip a beat or two.

“You know I’d do anything for you.” His words made heat rise to her face, still not used to being treated this kindly by a man she was head over heels in love with. (Y/n) pressed her forehead against his, cherishing his closeness for another moment before slowly parting from him again.

“I know, Jas’, and you know I’ll gladly reward you later for doing this with me.” Her chuckles filled the evening as she stepped out into the cold before he could reply. Instantly her attention was drawn towards the small Christmas market, the stalls offering food and handmade goods. Jasper found her hand to pull her along, keeping close to (y/n) who looked like a child in a candy store.

“You don’t know how happy this makes me.” She shifted her weight onto her toes to press a kiss to his cheek, fuelled by her gratefulness and excitement. He squeezed her hand, trying to let his attention rest on her and not on the different smells lingering in the cold air, accompanied by the sounds the crowd surrounding them made.

Something about this evening had something awfully special to (y/n), something she had been aching for the past years. Spending time with her boyfriend was always special, of course it was, and yet this evening was different somehow. Perhaps it was the fault of the many blinking lights that wrapped them in a soft glow. Perhaps it was the fault of the sweet scent she clung to, reminding her of her childhood. Perhaps it was simply the fault of Jasper, who had put so much effort into making this possible for her.

She felt him close wherever they went, looking at crafts, speaking to a few locals, cuddling for a moment while she sipped on her hot drink. And all Jasper could do was admire her, the way her body clearly fought against the cold nibbling on her cheeks and nose, how she seemed to cuddle herself against him at any given chance, further strengthening their bond.

Only as they made their way back to the car, set on warming (y/n) up, did she let go of his hand, “Thank you, Jas’. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“You’re stealing the words right out of my mouth, darlin’.” He shot her his signature smirk before he started the car, driving back towards Forks while (y/n) slowly began to warm up. For a while, neither of them spoke, lingering in their memories of this evening, how her smile had grown brighter with every passing minute, how she had clung to her newfound happiness like the luckiest woman earth had ever seen.

Her eyes lingered on his side profile, thoughts set on the reward she had promised him. Jasper must have felt the switch in her emotions, letting his grin linger on his lips while her hand found his thigh, stroking along the cold fabric. He didn’t move, kept his eyes focused ahead to give (y/n) the confidence to keep moving, shifting in her seat to reach his crotch.

“Fuck, darlin’. Careful there, don’t want you risking your safety.” She could only hum, not picking up on his words as she brushed her fingers along the stretched fabric. It didn’t take her long to free his hardening cock from the confines of his clothes, she spat into her palm before she began to stroke the soft skin.

Jasper’s raspy moans filled the car, eyes flickering to meet her widening pupils. She looked like a goddess to him, wrapped in the dark lingering in the car, emanating something soft though teasing enough to push him further towards his doom. (Y/n) was his everything, something to love and to cherish, while keeping a protective hold that was supposed to keep her chained to him until the end of this very earth.

His name left her, rolling off her tongue as if she wanted to speak her truth - no needed to give room to the adoration she couldn’t shake. But no further word left her, nothing but the echo of his name that rang in his ears all while (y/n) moved again. With that innocent look in her eyes, she stared up at him, watching his reactions the second her tongue brushed over the tip of his cock.

Jasper’s moan filled the car, guiding her to take more of him down her throat. The taste of his precum stuck to her, all too familiar as it reminded her of the endless hours they’ve spent tangled between the sheets. She loved being this close to him, loved the feeling of his twitching cock pressing against her tongue. He was the centre of her world, the one thing she’d never let go of.

“God, that mouth of yours is heavenly, darlin’.” His cold hand found her neck, holding onto her in a possessive manner. Jasper didn’t allow her to move - not that she wanted to - he needed her close, ready to fill her mouth with his much needed release. She gagged around him the second he jerked his hips, forcing his cock further down her throat.

She was making a mess on his thighs, saliva dripping from her lips as if her mouth was watering from the mere sight of him. And it was, fuelled by her never ending need for her partner. (Y/n) pulled away for a second, pumping him faster with her skilled fingers while deeply inhaling.

“Want you to fill my mouth, Jas, please.” The words filled the car before she took him back into her mouth. Another groan left him, rumbling through Jasper before a “fuck” clawed its way out of him. He came in her mouth with a raspy sound, filling her cheeks with his cum and the taste she loved.

For just a flicker of a second, he closed his eyes, letting the feeling wash through him while she greedily swallowed. Then his eyes were back on the road, filled with a dangerous twinkle that told her he’d ruin her tonight.

[brwnsugcr]

so what were we fighting about? word count: 870

kakashi and sakura have a disagreement...and then they make up the best way they know how. modern era. smuuut

preview.

what kakashi is not about to let happen is a stupid argument (that they’ll get over later…just not right this second) ruin their evening out with friends. because he knows sakura - he knows she’s just as stubborn as he is, but is quicker to temper, and when she gets into this mood she becomes a completely different woman. impatient, short responses, closed off. a defense mechanism (that she promised him she was still working on.) “no. fix your attitude.” he drops his voice, low but firm, with finality. “my - excuse me?” baffled. an expected response from his sakura-chan. his very angry, pink in the face sakura-chan.

[sallie-nathalies]

The rest of villagers last name. Mostly will be related to their professions. Mr. Qi doesn't have a last name, because he is so mysterious that I can't give them a proper name.

Lewis Alderman it means, member of the governing body of a city. He is the mayor of Pelican Town.

Marnie Calvert Calvert means, the one who takes care of calves. I know she take care of more animals, but I chose calves because it fits into her maternal and sweet personality to take care of small animals.

Jas Cognilio (Italian, it means rabbit) she has no job o profession, but she has a family of ranchers that love and care about her, so for me, the best surname that fix her it's an animal, a small and a cute one. Furthermore, my favorite moment between her and Shane is the Bunny jewel slippers heart event! I love it, because it's not related with the farmer. Shane is becoming a better person by himself and he is doing something nice for another person.

Clint Smith, is not only obvious, it's the most common English last name. I think that it's perfect for a character that has problems being noticed by other, a wallflower that rarely took any action to change his life. Even his father decided for him his career!

Willy Fischer meaning fisherman, I feel bad because it feels uninspiring, but he loves his profession! It's his job, and hobby. He is a simple man!

Linus Woodward meaning guardian of the woods. I always thought that there's something mystical about Linus, and I think that this last name fits with him and his aura.

Sandy Chapman meaning, seller. It's like, obvious, but I like to think that in combination with her name (Sandy sounds close to sand) it gives her a mystical vibe. Something like "seller of the sand".

Gus Brewer meaning ale maker. I thought giving him other surnames related to cooking, but then I remember that many tavern owners used to create beverages. Maybe times has changed and he expanded his business, but I like to think that he is descendant of medieval tavern owners who used to receive foresters from different places.

M. Rasmodius what would that M. stands for? I will say that is Magi that is the name given to Zoroastrian priests.

Marlon Fletcher meaning maker of bows and arrows. He is an adventurous man, and I thought giving him an heroic surname, but I don't like the idea of making someone that special. I want that all surnames are humble she related to professions, to the common people, the ordinary. So instead, I'm gonna make him a descendant of artisans of weaponry!

Gunther Aarni Finnish last name, meaning treasure. He looks for them, I think it's kinda obvious.

Leo Morgan Morgan means coming from the sea. I would like to think that his parents were adventurous people who went to see the world with him. I headcanon that he doesn't remember his last name.

Bubba (Dwarf) Sheer. As I said, I like to relate magical creatures of the valley with Zoroastrian culture. In this case, I look for the word "milk" in Farsi language (modern Zoroastrian people). I discovered that Sheer means both: milk and lion. I think it's cool for a character like him!

Morris Chamberlain (it means steward or servant of a noble household) the only character that doesn't belong to the valley, so I will try to give him a last name related to nobility. Considering that he is a manager under the serve of JojaMart, I think it makes sense.

P. D: Edited

[bibastibootz]

Straßenlaternen

Thorsten stellt die zwei schmutzigen Teller in den Geschirrspüler, der so voll ist wie sein Herz in dem Moment. Aus den Augenwinkeln beobachtet er Sebastian, der mit einem Lappen den Küchentisch abwischt. Ein warmes Gefühl macht sich in Thorstens Brust breit bei dem Gedanken, dass Sebastian nun wirklich ihm gehört.

Aber eben auch nicht ganz, nicht immer.

Da ist etwas, das Thorsten schon seit Wochen auf dem Herzen liegt und vielleicht muss er es nun endlich mal ansprechen. Er schließt den Geschirrspüler und wartet darauf, dass Sebastian fertig ist.

Mit einem zufriedenen „So!“ schmeißt Sebastian schließlich den Lappen in die Spüle und wischt sich die feuchten Hände am Küchentuch ab. Dann wandert sein Blick zu Thorsten, der wie eine Statue im Raum steht und ihn beobachtet. Sebastian hebt eine Augenbraue. „Was ist los?“, fragt er, und Thorsten kann dabei zusehen, wie das sorglose Lächeln von seinen Lippen verschwindet.

Thorsten hebt abwehrend seine Hände. „Nichts schlimmes“, sagt er schnell. Sebastian atmet auf. Thorsten lehnt sich gegen die Küchenzeile und faltet seine Hände zusammen. Wie spricht er das Thema nur am besten an? „Darf ich dich etwas fragen?“

„Klar.“

„Warum küsst du mich nicht?“

Sebastian runzelt die Stirn. „Hä? Mach ich doch.“ Er verschränkt die Arme. „Nicht oft genug?“

Thorsten schüttelt den Kopf. „Nein, das meine ich gar nicht. Du–“, beginnt er zu sagen und holt noch einmal tief Luft. „Du hast mich bloß noch nie in der Öffentlichkeit geküsst.“

Sebastian sieht auf einmal ganz klein aus, wie er da steht, Arme um den Körper geschlungen und den Kopf nach unten geneigt. Er kaut auf seiner Unterlippe herum.

Thorsten macht einen Schritt auf ihn zu und streicht einmal über seinen Oberarm. „Das sollte nicht gemein klingen, nur–“ Er seufzt. „Bei Julia hattest du keine Probleme, ihre Hand zu halten oder sie auf der Straße zu küssen. Ich will einfach nicht, dass du dich über irgendetwas mit mir schämst.“

Da hebt Sebastian seinen Kopf und ihre Blicke treffen sich. „Ich schäme mich nicht“, antwortet er sofort, doch damit überzeugt er nicht einmal sich selbst. Sein Herz liegt plötzlich ganz schwer in seiner Brust.

„Sebastian“, flüstert Thorsten und presst seine Lippen zu einem aufbauenden Lächeln zusammen. „Ich finde das gar nicht schlimm, wenn du mehr Zeit brauchst, um dich an uns zu gewöhnen. Ich kann das verstehen. Wirklich.“

Wenn Sebastian noch länger auf seine Unterlippe beißt, fängt sie bald an zu bluten.

„Ich möchte nicht, dass du dich unwohl fühlst. Also–“

„Okay, ja.“

„Ja?“

Sebastian zuckt mit den Schultern. Seine Augen glitzern im Küchenlicht. „Ja, ich brauche noch ein bisschen Zeit. Mein Kopf, der–“ Er hebt seine Hand und tippt sich zwei Mal gegen die Schläfe. „Der macht es mir manchmal sehr schwer. Ich würde dich gerne küssen, immer und überall, oder wenigstens deine Hand halten, aber–“ Er seufzt. „Ich kann nicht. Mein blödes Gehirn ist davon überzeugt, dass uns dann alle anstarren. Und ich weiß selbst, dass das kompletter Schwachsinn ist.“

„Und selbst wenn sie uns anstarren“, fügt Thorsten hinzu.

„Selbst wenn“, wiederholt Sebastian mit einem Nicken. „Aber, naja, das ist leichter gesagt als getan. Und jetzt ist die Stimmung wieder verdorben.“

„Oh. Das war nicht meine Absicht.“

„Schon okay. Ich find‘s ja gut, dass du nachfragst. Ich hätte nur gerne eine schönere Antwort gehabt.“

Thorsten beginnt zu lächeln. „Mit dir ist alles schön, Sebastian.“ Als Sebastian ihn – endlich – auch anlächelt, legt Thorsten seine Hand an Sebastians Wange und zieht ihn zu einem Kuss herunter. „Und wir haben alle Zeit der Welt.“ Und noch einen Kuss.

Sebastian grinst gegen Thorstens Lippen und legt dann den Kopf schief. „Wollen wir noch ein bisschen an die frische Luft?“

„Es ist stockdunkel.“

„Ja eben.“

Thorsten verengt die Augen, doch er hätte jetzt wirklich nichts gegen einen kleinen Spaziergang. „Okay“, sagt er also.

Als sie ein paar Minuten später die Wohnung verlassen, ist die Luft noch überraschend warm für einen Aprilabend. Sebastian lässt seine Jacke sogar offen und atmet mehrmals tief ein und aus. Thorsten muss lächeln, als er einmal zur Seite schaut und sieht, wie Sebastian sogar kurz seine Augen geschlossen hat.

Es ist unglaublich ruhig. Ein ganz sachter Wind weht ab und an durch die Straße und lässt Blätter und achtlos weggeworfenen Müll über den Asphalt rascheln.

Die Tür von der Kneipe an der Straßenecke öffnet sich und drei Männer treten hinaus. Laute Musik und buntes Gelächter werden von der zufallenden Tür sofort wieder gedämpft. Die Männer unterhalten sich lautstark, lachen und singen, und biegen dann in eine Nebenstraße ab.

Und plötzlich ist wieder alles still und Thorsten und Sebastian sind alleine. Das einzige konstante Geräusch ist das Knirschen von den Steinen unter ihren Schuhen.

In vielen Häusern brennen Lampen, die wie orangene Kleckse in dem tiefen Blau der Dunkelheit erscheinen. Nur selten huscht eine Silhouette an einem Fenster vorbei, ansonsten bleiben die Welten getrennt.

Thorsten legt seinen Kopf in den Nacken und schaut Richtung Himmel. Er sieht sofort den Mond, dem nur ein kleines abgeschnittenes Stück zur Ganzheit fehlt. Zwischen den wenigen Wolken funkeln ein paar Sterne hindurch, die mit jeder Sekunde mehr zu werden scheinen.

Da spürt Thorsten etwas an seinem Ärmel. Er senkt den Kopf und schaut zu seiner rechten Seite, genau dann, als Sebastians linke Hand sich langsam Thorstens Arm herunter tastet. Wie das letzte fehlende Puzzleteil legt sich Sebastians Hand schließlich in die von Thorsten.

Es ist zwar dunkel, doch selbst in dem dämmrigen Licht der Straßenlaternen sieht Thorsten ein unverkennbares Lächeln auf Sebastians Lippen. Seine Finger schließen sich ganz eng um Sebastians Hand.

Ganz sachte drückt Sebastian einmal mit seinen Fingern zu und genießt die vertraute Wärme, die Thorstens Körper ausstrahlt. Sein Herz wird mit jedem gemeinsamen Schritt leichter. Warum sollte er sich je für seine Liebe schämen?

[prkhaven]

warnings: smut minors do not interact, oral (f rec.), face riding, profanity, pussy muncher jake agenda, happy birthday jake <3

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“Ja-Jake” You breathlessly mewled as you rutted your hips fast against his lapping tongue, one hand holding the bed frame while the other tug at the fluff of his hair

You’ve last track of time, everything all blurring together from the moment he attached his plump lips onto your pussy. Your legs forced to trap him underneath you, his arms hooked them over his shoulder providing all the access in the world to lather himself in you.

His tongue glides over your saliva covered folds, never getting tired of the sweet taste of your essence. Even though the lack of oxygen made him light-headed, he’d go out like this. “So fucking sweet baby. I could eat you up forever” He blabbed incoherently at your core sending shivers up your spine

You knew his words to be true. He’d drag out countless orgasms out of your like it was nothing until he’s completely drained you of anymore. That’s how he loves to spend his time—buried in between your legs.

“You can give me more” He hummed out his white lie, his hand landing straight to the plush of your hips digging his nails just enough to leave the indents on your skin

Your body easily folding forward, thighs shaking at each side of his shoulder, you shook your head aggressively unable to let out anymore. “C-Can’t” You whined when in reality that was far from the truth and he knew that

His tongue dragged moving in a quick repetitive motion, loud slurping noises reflecting how much he was taking to pour on his taste buds and let it slide to the back of his throat. His tall nose bridge hitting the swollen bud each time you moved, smearing yourself all over him, the mixed spit with your cum and wetness spilt from the corners of his mouth to drabble down his chin.

Beyond filth and that was the best birthday gift ever.

Jake could feel how your body jumped when his tongue dared to tease your gaped hole but never managing to make it far because of of him, the evident smirk felt against deep within your folds made you throw a weak glare towards him through squinted eyes and an opened shaped mouth which went unnoticed in the end.

He was far too engrossed in living in the moment of how he lathered himself in you, wondering how he could get more until he felt you drifting away from him, the weight peeling off his face to disappear as the overrated air filled his mouth and lungs.

Jake’s eyes darted to you to see you panting heavily, improperly holding onto the bed frame as you hovered just above his face. Glistening tired out pussy so close yet so far from his mouth. The sight was to die for but eating you pussy was better—way better than merely seeing it.

“Jak-” You started but squealed when Jake’s arms extended out and roughly pulled you straight back down, not wanting to hear your excuse

His nose immediately hit your clit as it ripped out a strained moan from your mouth, your nails dug further into the frame cracking at it under your fingernails. “Not done with my gift yet” Jake spoke, the first time you’ve properly heard his voice this entire time

“Keep movin’ for me” He tapped at your side, before he opened his mouth leaving feathering kisses at your folds once feeling your hesitance to move

Wanting to encourage you, he was going to guide you towards allowing him to receive the biggest pleasure and luxury of you squishing his face again but when he felt you slowly grind your hips again, he smiled—beyond pleased and utterly so proud of you, “That’s it- My best birthday present ever”

Today, you saved a horse by riding your favorite cowboy.

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