#except it's to the side and not front and centre

[greywoe]

Why did I come here? These are not my gods. This is not my place.

[ellecdc]

the poly!marauders and lily x shy!reader!!!!! I genuinely cannot handle how much I love it omg🫠🫠 would u be willing to make it a series??

maybe remus being overprotective/possessive of her before the full moon and she’s just like ???? bc she doesn’t know about his furry problem🫣 but the rest of the group are just really casual about the way he’s acting like “oh yeah he does this sometimes, just ignore it” and r is just like 🤔?? bc he literally won’t let her go and wants her by his side and lap all day!!

aaaaaah my mind got carried away after reading ur amazing fic🩷🩷

so. stinkin. cute (thoughts and prayers for our shy!reader fr)

poly!marauders + lily x shy!reader close to Remus' time of the month

pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3 // pt 4 // pt 5

CW: love bite/hickies, man-handling Remus [ik, ik]

You had been…seeing the boys and Lily for long enough now to have noticed a few peculiarities. 

Black envelopes with green wax melts on the front that were delivered to Sirius were always confiscated immediately by Lily. Following the envelope's arrival, the rest of the group tended to fawn over Sirius for the rest of the day.

James was incredibly bright as a student in all subjects except Ancient Runes; prior to any quizzes or assignments, the group would play a game of “question pong” which was a twist on the muggle game ‘beer pong’ where cups were lined up and James would aim a ping pong ball and have to answer a question that was placed inside the cup that he had scored in. This amount of effort wasn’t placed into any of the others’ studies.

And what was obviously something the boys were ultimately accustomed to doing for Lily now extended to you when you couldn’t help but notice that at least one of them always escorted you to any of your classes in the dungeons. 

Another peculiarity, however, seemed to centre around Remus. 

Once a month, the group got a bit…sketchy before the three boys would disappear for about a day and then return basically back to normal. 

Lily seemed to be accepting of these occurrences, so you opted not to concern yourself with it either; if it was something you needed to know, they’d tell you.

Right?

Because, you see, the sketchiness wasn’t just limited to their comings and goings; but rather Remus himself.

He was a tactile person, that much you knew to be true. He almost always had a hand on one of his partners, a boyfriend or a girlfriend in his lap, or an arm around someone’s shoulders.

And yes, you’d been growing increasingly accustomed to the affection.

But it seemed to you that around these bouts of…sketchiness, the affection seemed to grow into something rather possessive. 

For example; it became clear to you that out of the three boys, James and Sirius were the ones who had a particular problem with Severus Snape, but during said period of said sketchiness, Remus nearly growled when he saw Lily and Snape discussing the upcoming Potions exam before he latched himself onto Lily’s side until Severus finally left. 

And then at the quidditch game against Ravenclaw, a group of girls behind you, Lily, and Remus were giggling over how ‘fit the Gryffindor captain was’ which led to Remus standing abruptly, moving to lean against the railing of the Gryffindor stands to wave James over before he pressed a searing kiss to the chasers lips leaving them both rather breathless. 

And then there was the party in the Ravenclaw common room for Benjy Fenwicks birthday where you, Lily, and Remus had been sitting watching James and Sirius dance with Marlene and Mary before Gilderoy Lockhart slid up behind Sirius in an attempt to dance with him. Sirius hardly had a chance to react before Remus was on the dancefloor and pulling his boyfriend into him, slotting their hips together and swaying sinfully to the beat all while maintaining eye contact with Gilderoy.

It seems important to note that Remus doesn’t dance.

All this to say, Remus got…sketchy.

But all of this had nothing on how he seemed to become around you.

You weren’t sure what caused the difference; perhaps it was because you were new to the group, perhaps it was because you were shy, or perhaps it was because he was more confident in his and the others’ roles within the dynamic. Either way, you were certain you were simply going to combust from the sheer amount of attention being devoted to you by your quietest boy.

You could hardly breathe or blink without him noticing, it seemed. And if you were within his vicinity, you were in his arms or on his lap.

Like right now…

You’d no sooner entered the Great Hall when you spotted Lily’s fiery red hair and made for the group before you were being man-handled to sit on the bench between his thighs.

“You almost missed breakfast, dove.” He offered quietly as he started preparing a plate for you right in front of your eyes. 

“Jeez Moony, whatever happened to good morning.” Sirius teased as he shot you a wink.

“Morning angel.” James offered quickly as Lily smiled softly at you.

“Oh, hi! I..uhm, I’m not that hungry, Rem.” You tried, but it was apparently the wrong thing to say.

Remus’ movements hardly faltered as he continued buttering an english muffin for you, but everyone else seemed to freeze in their movements as they watched the two of you with bated breaths. 

“Breakfast is important.” He said simply.

And believing he was quite close to actually hand feeding you the english muffin, you simply took it from his hands and shrunk into his chest at the attention. 

You felt your heart leap both in affection and embarrassment as you felt him press his lips to your neck as you ate, looking to the other three in hopes of help or explanation, of which you received neither.

“I was wondering if you wanted to have a sleepover with me tonight?” Lily asked you as she sipped from her tea.

“Oh, I uhm…sure, that’d be nice. Is everyone going to be there?”

Remus kept his face pressed to your neck but the others shared a glance. 

“No, we have a Marauders thing to attend to tonight, sweetness. Can we call dibs for the weekend?” Sirius offered, but his attempt was quickly shot down by Remus.

“Tomorrow.” He muttered from your neck as you fought the urge to shiver at the tickle of his breath. 

“What about the night after that?” Lily tried again.

You let out a surprised (and perhaps nervous) squeak when Remus’ embrace tightened around your middle.

“Tomorrow.” 

“Moons…” James tried, which finally got Remus’ face out from your neck in order to glare at his boyfriend.

“Tomorrow will be fine.” He proclaimed with an air of finality before he shoved his face unceremoniously back into your neck and latched his mouth to your jugular, eliciting another surprised yelp from your lips. 

“How’s that for a good morning, Y/N?” Sirius asked with a wink. 

You spent the rest of your breakfast wondering if this was your own personal heaven or your own personal hell.

Jury was still out by the time you left the Great Hall with a love bite displayed above the collar of your uniform.

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ NEW JOBS AND DEATH THREATS — cod x reader

CRAVE YOU — call of duty x reader CHAPTER ONE

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + alejandro vargas + rodolfo 'rudy' parra + könig + keegan p. russ

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, prison au, serial killer au, reverse harem, therapist/patient, medical inaccuracies, graphic violence, depictions of murder, everyone's unhinged, poly tf141, minor ships, threesomes, foursomes, gangbangs, this is not medical advice!!

series masterlist. read on ao3.

Life was hard. That was a fact.

Bills and groceries didn’t pay for themselves. That was also a fact.

Adding these two factors together, the final product will be a high-risk job in one of the highest-risk places on Earth. That’s… not a fact.

And yet, here you are, standing at the visitor entrance of Las Almas Prison, sporting a disgruntled grimace and a new pair of black slacks that you’d splurged on. They, at least, made your ass look good, although that was truly the least of your worries.

No. Your current list of worries looked something like this;

Getting Murdered

Getting Attacked

Vomiting Within The First Five Minutes Of Your New Job?

…Yeah. Something like that.

The early morning sun is blinding where it sits, just off to the side of the giant concrete building that was the main offices and Visitor Centre. The fact that you were standing in front of what was only a small part of the overall prison grounds was… alarming.

You were well aware that this was the largest prison in your country, housing the most lethal and awful of criminals. Some you’d seen either on the news, or heard of in passing conversations.

This was the real deal. And, somehow, you’d managed to find yourself being hired to work here. You. Work with serial killers. The worst of the worst.

With the stress on your bank account, and the endless struggle that was trying to find a stable career in the current job market, you simply had no other choice but to accept the offer. It paid extremely well, had great benefits, and your safety was… fairly considered.

The amount of NDAs, liability clauses and agreements, however?

Not the best at calming your nerves, to say the least.

The biting chill of the winter wind has you wrapping your arms around yourself, leather bag slung over your shoulder as you finally step through the automatic sliding door.

You’re not surprised to find that the chill only deepens inside the concrete walls of the building, with no heaters or air conditioning from what you can see. There is, however, bright white overhead lights that do nothing except aid the throbbing in the side of your head – probably due to the restless sleep you’d had the night before, anticipation and anxiety warring inside of your thoughts.

There’s an office in front of you as you step in, with only a few decades-old couches to your right, in front of a dingy TV that’s turned off. Saving their budget for more important things, you suppose.

The walls are a pale, grimy yellow, with sparse photos hung about, framing newspaper articles that are surely from the last century, and black and white pictures of the prison’s opening.

It’s an unsettling place, that much you’ve already gathered.

You haven’t even actually been inside the prison, you remind yourself, your stomach churning where it now lays at your feet.

Without a second thought, you continue with hurried steps to the front desk, where scratched plastic encases the sole woman inside, sitting behind a monitor. There’s a circle of holes that allow for sound to pass through, but other than that, there’s no way of entering from this room. With a quick study of your surroundings, you see a steel door to the left of where the desk sits, with a small square window covered in iron bars.

…Jesus christ.

“Can I help you?” The woman drawls, sliding her glasses further up her nose. Her voice is nasally, and the words come out in a slow drawl as she looks you up and down, unimpressed.

You give her your best smile, although even you can tell that it’s an uneasy one. “Yes! This is my first day, I think I’m supposed to be meeting Kate Laswell?” You ask, nerves betraying your voice with unsteady breaths.

The woman snaps her gum.

You stand there.

She blows it again.

You continue to stand there.

Her gaze is bored and completely void of any thought, before she nods slowly. “Laswell… I’ll call her.”

Really, you couldn’t be more shocked if you tried. What the fuck was happening? How could one lack so much… professionalism?

“Hi, Kate. Yes, it’s Jenny. I have a new hire who apparently wants to see you…” Her voice remains that unbearably slow, sloth-like delivery, before her eyes unhurriedly meet yours again. “What’s your name…?”

You give it to her, tone only the slightest bit impatient as you roll back on the heels of your feet. You can only hope that your black boots are appropriate; you’d figured that they were safe, closed-toe and still somewhat professional.

Time would tell. Jenny was giving you the impression that they were more than acceptable, because at least they got you to do your job in a timely manner.

Jenny says a few more words to who can only pray is Laswell on the other end of the phone, before she places it back in its holder. 

“Laswell will be here any…” She pops her gum once more, and maybe, just maybe, you can understand the urge to murder. “Moment.”

You give her a tight, painful smile. “Thank you, Jenny.”

She doesn’t respond, and you decide to just stand back and wait. You certainly weren’t complaining – any more conversation with her would’ve ended with a severe lack of hair on your head.

A minute passes, before a buzz in the pocket of your slacks has your throat tightening. 

Pulling out your phone, your next exhale comes out shaky as you read the text.

Charlie: get milk otw home used it all

No ‘good luck’. No… ounce of care for you, or the absolute stress that comes with a new job, let alone one like this.

When you’d told him about the offer, all he’d said was, “It might make you worth something for a change.” Didn’t even question, not for a minute, the risks that came with a job like this. He simply couldn’t give less of a fuck.

“Doctor?” The sound of a door opening, and the kind, almost motherly tone of the voice has you shoving your phone into your pocket once more as you turn to the source of the sound.

It’s a woman, her hair pulled back into a slick bun, one hand holding what seems to be a clipboard. Her other hand rests in the pocket of a white coat, not unlike one a scientist would be fashioning in a lab. Her smile is warm, the corner of her eyes crinkling as you direct a smile of your own her way.

“Kate Laswell?” You ask, extending your hand for her to shake. Taking her hand out of her pocket, she accepts it gracefully, nodding her head.

“The one and only,” she says, before gesturing to the steel door she’d entered through. “Now, today we’ll get you set up with a keycard, general rules, and I’ll have you meet two of your patients.”

You nod, following her as she swipes a card in a black reader, before the red light buzzes green, and she pulls the door open. Right behind her, you take an unstable deep breath as you take in the greyed, jagged walls, a complete contrast to the painted ones of the entrance room.

“We really are so glad to welcome you to our team,” she continues, her black work shoes clicking against the smooth concrete flooring. She doesn’t turn to you as she speaks, but her voice carries around the echoey hallway. “You’ll make a great addition. A necessary one, also. We’ve needed an innovative, young therapist for a while. Most of our… previous hires have held out-dated beliefs, and a lack of humanity for their clientele.”

That makes your brows furrow in confusion. “That’s… odd,” you murmur, before pausing your steps as Laswell stops, swiping her keycard, before entering another room.

As you step into the newly revealed space, your eyes go wide as you take it in. 

It’s a wide, large space, with several floors. Metal staircases sit at either end of the vast space, allowing access to every floor. Guards sit at every level, some walking around the space where you and Laswell stand.

It’s a lot, all at once. You’d never even stepped foot into a prison – not before now.

“Most inmates are at the mess for breakfast,” Laswell supplies, turning to you with a neutral expression. She gestures for you to follow her back out of the space, and you do with hurried steps. “The ones you’ll be dealing with, however… they usually eat by themselves.”

You don’t decide to push that statement, not now, as you continue to follow her down the hallway.

“You won’t be seeing much of the prison,” she admits. “There’s heavily guarded spaces on the top floor for your sessions, both for your protection and for the safety of our staff and other low-risk inmates.”

You nod, humming a sound of affirmation as the two of you start heading up the cleaner steps at the end of the hallway. The staff staircase, you suppose.

“Today, you’ll be meeting two of our more… understanding ambers.”

You raise a brow. “Ambers? What does that mean?”

She turns her head over her shoulder, just enough to shoot you a knowing look. “Ambers are our highest-risk inmates. We house ten of them, and you’ll be dealing with eight as per your contract.”

Your stomach falls. You’d known, of course, that the risks were high when applying for this role. But… this was more than you’d imagined, in a way. Ambers. Huh.

Silence falls over the two of you as you make your way up the never-ending steps, no windows in sight. It’s unnerving, in a creepy, strange way. When you finally reach the top, you try and hide how out of breath you are from that small exertion.

Fucking christ.

Laswell, for her part, looks completely fine in an effortless way. You can’t eve find it in yourself to be envious. The feeling’s closer to admiration.

“Here’s the files on them both. You’ll be seeing Kyle Garrick first,” she hands you the clipboard she’d been carrying, and you accept it with only a slight tremble. She doesn’t comment on it, and you find yourself warming up to her already. “They’ll be restrained, and there is heavy security, so you needn’t worry about that side of things.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” you say earnestly, flipping through the files without reading much of anything, not yet. 

She waves you off with a soft chuckle. “None of that. Kate’s more than fine,” she insists, and you give her a bright smile in return. Maybe this job wouldn’t be so bad – a boss like this was much better than a creepy middle-aged man any day of the week.

You don’t realise you’ve made it to a small room until she stops walking, scanning her keycard and pushing the door open, gesturing you in. “While you have your first two sessions, I’ll sort your keycard and the rest of the processes out. I wish you luck.”

With that, the door shuts behind you, and you’re alone in a small room.

It matches the rest of the hallways you’ve seen – grey concrete walls, grey concrete floors. The only furniture, however, is one metal table drilled into the floor in the centre, one chair on either side. 

…It’s depressing. Not at all like you’d prefer, not for a fucking therapy session, but then again, you hadn’t met your clients yet.

Ambers. High-risk.

With a deep breath, you take a seat at the chair closest to you, finally reading through the top file on the clipboard.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick. 

You skim over the height, weight, sex – immediately reading the comments made and his sentence.

Mass murderer. Motivated attacks.

Your eyes go wide, almost comically so, as you bite at your lip, folding one leg over the other as you continue to read. 

Of course, you’d prepared, been made aware that you’d be dealing with murderers. But having it in black and white, right in front of you, is a whole other thing entirely. 

Apparently, they were motivated attacks. Targets being large CEOs, specifically those with reported claims of misuse of power, and those against green laws. Anti-environment types.

The motive is… you’re aware killing is bad. You hadn’t spent years studying for a degree in Psychology to think otherwise. But it wasn’t as simple as some made it out to be. You’d done papers suggesting that certain motives implied healthier patterns, healthier outlets.

If you had to choose between him killing pregnant women, and CEOs with broken moral compasses?

It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out your answer.

You’re about to flip the page when there’s a knock on the door on the other side of the room, before it opens.

There’s two guards that walk in, before a man in an olive green jumpsuit follows, hands cuffed tightly together in front of him, head down. Another guard from behind shoves him in, too rough for your liking. You sit up straighter, eyes assessing as you take in the man in the jumpsuit.

He’s forced into the chair opposite you, before one of the guards grabs his cuffed wrists and chains them to a rig in the middle of the table. You’re grateful for the precautions, but there’s a part of you that feels guilty watching the manhandling of the seemingly calm man.

“Half an hour,” the most brutish guard of them all grits out, beer belly spilling out over his belted jeans. He jostles the chain attaching his wrists to the table unnecessarily, and your eyes narrow.

He goes to leave, along with another guard, but one stands to stay in position inside, beside the door.

Your brows furrow, and you speak up before you can stop yourself. “Sorry, sir, but my sessions will need confidentiality, as for the best results. I’m sure that I’ll be safe with his restraints.”

The guard stares you down, seemingly mulling your words over, before shrugging and leaving the room, door shutting behind him.

…Huh. Alright.

You find your posture relaxing, just slightly, which is odd, considering you’re now only a metre or two away from a convicted murderer.

His gaze is trained to the table, left foot tapping incessantly against the concrete floor.

“It’s nice to meet you, Gaz,” you say with a soft tone and a gentle smile. You figure that his nickname is the best bet, not wanting to stir up any possible traumas with his given name during your first session with the man. “I’ll be your new psychiatric evaluator.”

His eyes flick up, meeting yours, and he nods slowly, as if awaiting a punchline. 

“Is it okay for me to call you Gaz?” You ask, tilting your head to the side and flipping to an empty page to take notes on. You’d need to grab a notebook from home, you decide.

He relaxes, only the smallest of movements, and he nods. “Gaz, yeah.”

Your smile widens at the small victory. Any step towards progress was a huge one, in your eyes. You’d be facing a lot of them in the coming days.

“Do you have any advice for this place?” You push, trying to form a bond of trust with the dark-haired man. “I’m gonna be honest, you’re my first patient, and I’ve only met Laswell and… Jenny?”

His mouth quirks at that, a dimple showing to the left of his mouth as he looks back up at you. “Jenny’s a character, ain’t she?”

You laugh, a genuine one, and nod. “She certainly is. You’ve met her?”

He shrugs, shoulders relaxing slightly. “Few times, yeah. She drives me up the fuckin’ wall.” His accent is only minimally apparent, but his voice is of a somewhat humorous tone.

Small victories.

“Well,” he exhales, settling into his chair a bit as he seems to ponder. “Do ya know who else you’re assigned to?”

You’d been sure to thoroughly go over your contract, and you were allowed to disclose your other patients between your others. They’d find out within the day, anyways, so there was no point in being discreet.

“It’s only you and a… John Price? Today. I’m sure I’ll find out the other six over the next few days,” you say, appreciating that he’s starting conversations. It’s more than you’d allowed yourself to hope for.

Gaz’s eyes light up, and even if you hadn’t been incessant in watching him, it’d be an obvious shift in emotions. “Price?”

You nod, quickly making a note on your clipboard, before folding your hands in your lap as you gesture for him to continue with a quick inclination of your head.

“He’s the best. Man’s a legend,” he enthuses. “Love ‘im.”

There’s… a hidden truth to that statement, that you make a mental note to unpack during a later session. Your smile is a natural one as you say, “He’s an amber, correct? Laswell told me I’d been assigned eight out of ten ambers… you’re one of them, right?”

Gaz seems to fold into himself, and you kick yourself for going back to square one. He answers, however.

“...Yeah. Only Ghost ‘nd Valeria are aggressive, though. We’re just… misunderstood,” he murmurs, and in the back of your brain, you find yourself believing his words.

“Thank you,” you smile, and he responds with a sharp one of his own. Maybe you’d covered more ground than you’d expected. “I think it’d been mentioned that I was only assigned men, due to the nature of the job, or something like that.”

Seeming to mull over your words, he starts to slowly nod. “Sounds ‘bout right. As long as you don’t get Graves, you’ll be alright. The others are… fuckin’ weird, but they’re good men. Mostly.”

That’s a lot of information at once, and quite frankly, it takes a moment for you to process. 

“‘Good men’. What do you think it takes to be a good man?” You ask, curiosity laced into your tone. Getting to ask such questions of a convicted murderer, it’s a thrilling, exhilarating task.

His eyes don’t shift as he replies. “Good men do the acts others are too scared to do. They see the evil in the world, and rid of it with their own bare hands. You can be an ethical murderer, Doc.”

Those words, they’re – they’re authentic, and conviction aches in their structure. 

You swallow around a dry mouth.

“You think you’re a good man?” You ask.

His smile would be seen as warm to any who weren’t aware of his acts, but to you – it’s chilling. Haunting in a way you’ve never experienced.

It remains as he answers.

“I think that I’m a man who people wish they had the bravery to be.”

a/n. okay so im really nervous about posting this, cause ITS EIGHT FUKCING LOVE INTERESTS and also im a humanities girl not a science one!! sociology all the way not psych!! so forgive me for all the inaccuracies and legality issues please. im just a girl. hopefully u guys will like this one? i mean, obsessed serial killers cod is smth i need so here we are. all comments and feedback mean so muchhh ty ily mwah mwah mwah

taglist comment/msg to be added. [nothing to see here.]

[86-babyy]

Undeniable.

Part two - Insatiable.

Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader.

He’s your Dad’s best friend but when temptation comes to strong, you just couldn’t turn away.

This fic is inspired by the amazing edits of @eddiemunsons-missingnipple, which make me absolutely feral. 🫠 (pictures used in header created by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple )

Warnings: There’s a age gap. Reader is 20, Eddie is in his 30s. Fingering. Choking. Size kink, maybe? (Eddie is big.) Dirty Talk. Eddie is tattooed to the max. Teasing, a lot of smutty goodness. Dirty thoughts and easy temptations, it’s just filthy, babes. 😘 (let me know if I missed anything)

It started small.

Like a ever present dip that strung low in your stomach, it’s soft, subtle and you almost always missed it. The creep of warmth that prickled the tips of your toes, made your chest bubble like tiny explosions weaving through your bloodstream, left you feeling slightly left of centre with no real reasoning.

It was small, dismissive and evidently so fucking obvious.

You weren’t sixteen, freshly twenty, straight out of your adolescence but you were anything but naive. You knew by the second time the feeling had woven it’s way through your hormones like stitching, pulling, twisting, tightening the thread that lead directly to your cunt— that this was every bit of what you knew it was.

It was wrong. Instinctively and morally, it was everything bad, dangerous and wrong in the world to fragile to even think about— to impulsive, playful, thoughts of sin and lust, desire and temptation— It was fucking carnage and you wanted to dip your fingers, smooth the rough edges like rippled water, you wanted to ravish and explore— let the filth cover your skin like dirt and regret.

You wanted to devour, tempt and play with him.

You could take it. That was no hesitation. Everything he could dish out, you would lick clean and ask for more.

“Hey! Look, I got to go, alright?”

The hand waving across your line of vision breaks the border between your subconscious and draws you back to reality.

“Yeah, yeah. Of course. It’s fine, I’ll see you when you get home.”

He shuffles the jacket over his shoulder, the puff slowly dissipates when he zips it all the way up, a concerning smile plays his lips before stuffing the keys into the side pocket and hoisting his bag on his shoulder.

“Try to be good. It’s a late one, don’t think I’ll be back until morning, 6am at best.”

There’s a slight wince in his expression, it falls and tugs his frame along with it, the weight shifting his stance when outstretched arms pull you in.

“It’s fine, Dad. I have a whole night planned, full of pizza and shitty movies.”

You run little circles at the middle of his back, the thick jacket restrains most of your touch but he gestures with a smile in response regardless, he huffs a laugh, nods and heads for the front door.

You genuinely felt fucking terrible most days, your Dad loved what he did, strived for the best in all aspects of his career and it was truly admirable but sometimes when the days would turn to weeks and the nights would stretch longer and longer, he felt guilty, leaving you for so long, though every reassurance you noted towards him felt like it fell on deaf ears you tried none the less.

Except this time, you weren’t alone.

The gentle hum of water swam through the pipes and trickled like notes through the wall, no, you definitely weren’t alone.

The occupied upstairs bathroom was proof of that, housed by one Eddie Munson.

It was like a cruel twist of fate that landed him on your doorstep, like a perfectly timed occurrence when your Dad mentioned that Eddie was in town and would be staying over the weekend.

You had met Eddie before, many times before, see Eddie was your dads best friend. Childhood friends, in-fact.

The pipes creaked, shuttered to a holt when the water turned off. It was like a alarm that vibrated the walls, sent signals telling you to vacate before he came downstairs, telling you to hide. Four minutes. That’s exactly how long it took for you to take the gap between Eddie leaving the bathroom and going back to his room. You stumbled upstairs, each step seemingly drifting further apart with each stride until you hit the top, feet planted and making a line straight to your bedroom. It sounded good, planned perfect, down to each second until you collided with something that held resemblance to a brick wall, knocking you clean from your feet.

The patches of water residue seeps through the fabric of your shirt, bleeds and stains your skin underneath but the searing heat that bares the curve of your waist sticks like molten from the hold as Eddie bares your weight, keeping you grounded, keeps you from falling.

You feel the muscle pinch, flex beneath your palm, the water soaking between skin, seeps from one pore to other beneath your hand.

It’s soft reels of time, like everything is in slow motion, your eyes rake over the sparse of dewy skin coated in a sheen of water, drops leaving tracks as they follow the contours of definition, the inky black images show so much more refine up close, each placed line and shading painted, stained, perfectly across his chest.

Curls cling to the dip in his shoulders, wet ends create a pool in divots of his collar bone, strands of black glisten from the recent action— everything is so wet.

It’s a sickly wet that drys way to quick, beads mirror your face in tiny droplets painted across canvas that you want to reach forward and taste— the border between water and salt, the cool on your tongue mixed with the taste of him.

“Sorry, I uh, are you okay?”

The wind catches in your throat, sucks any air and words along with it when you finally land in his line of sight— deep, dark eyes fluttered beneath eyelashes that study you.

“Yeah, sorry.”

It’s a pathetic response, it’s all breath with no voice and it makes you want to sink further than you already were.

“Maybe, I should—“

In a instant Eddie let’s go. Hovers slightly to make sure you have your footing but removes himself completely, from touch, from space, stepping backwards. The loss of contact winds you without the actual impact, makes you want to run, makes you want to stay more.

“I’m sorry.”

Eddie’s apology is quiet, knowing.

“No, please. It was my fault.”

You pull a semblance of a laugh, a dry attempt at trying to lighten the strain that had set in the air. Eddie bites back with a smile, it’s lop sided and it quirks his lips to dimple the hollow of his cheeks.

“It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too.”

You can’t help it. You smile. It’s small and shy, makes you dip your head to hide the growing heat that burns to the tips of your ears.

“I was just about to clean up, make a pizza, want to join?”

His voice is thick, syrupy like honey but dark like malt, it bares rough in the back of his throat but cheery none the less. You sense the hope in his words, a strained branch in offering to deescalate the situation so you nod.

“Yeah, would love too.”

The painted skull on his throat bobs along with his adams apple when he smiles, reaches behind him and opens the door and you’re quick to take the message, heading back downstairs.

It’s a mess. The whole kitchen is laid out in flour and dough, ingredients spread across the island, once were in bowls, now a muddled mess of vegetables. Eddie’s got a ball of dough, fingers and knuckles need the springy texture to a mould and he’s helplessly coated in the powdery substance. It clings all the way up to his elbows and flecks decorate his hair.

“Are you laughing at me?”

Eddie side eyes you, the gleam reflects off the light and back into you but you can’t help it. You both look a absolute mess.

“Can you blame me? You said you were good at this.”

“Hey, I am. We got dough right?”

“Yeah, and so does the kitchen floor.”

There’s a drop in his expression, a pouty look before he dips his fingers, finds were the flour has collected most and smears your cheek. The white powder blends with your laughter, to slow to avoid his actions, instead you mimic.

Fingers dip into the bag of flour, you watch Eddie hesitantly step backwards, eyes squinted in a daring gaze before you leap forward, your hand smearing white across his shirt, the trail of your hand print perfectly centred on his chest. The walls bounce with laughter, rebound and echo with squeals when Eddie comes for you. You dip and weave managing to duck under his arm before twisting on your heel and feeling the collision of your back into the counter, but that wasn’t what caught you off guard.

Somewhere between the push and pull, Eddie had reached across mid duck and when you came back up, cashing in to the counter, Eddie had caught your throat.

It was a obvious mistake, a miss of direction when you twisted the other way but the evident pressure was unmistakable. You whined, a needy gasp that slipped way to quick before you could even try to swallow it back down, the flush of your cheeks burn through the rapid of your heart rate and you lean forward. Against all better fucking judgement, you chase the feeling, you lose yourself in the hallow of boring eyes that look back at you, to far gone in the abyss— Your mind swept in a fog, dragged by your ankles and left you looking from the outside in.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Fuck.”

Eddie moves quick, takes three steps backwards, hands raised like a wounded soldier.

“No, no. You’re okay.”

It’s breathy and loose, you mask a laugh behind in desperation to carry the banter, not make it awkward, though you very clearly already had.

He laughs but it’s weak, cautious and when he turns to finish working out the discarded dough, you don’t miss the slight tremor to his movements, the way he swallows thick.

“So, how have you been?”

You pick the vegetables, try to place them back in their respective bowls, busy hands keeps your tone light— Friendly.

“Ah, you know, here there and everywhere. Can never seem to keep my feet planted long enough to enjoy much.”

“Maybe you should settle here. You always seem to drift back.”

You catch him wince slightly and realise maybe it had come across more bitter than intended. You knew Eddie hated it here, ever since high school, or so your dad says.

“I’m sorry, I mean, you just seem—“

“No.” He laughs. “You’re right. It’s like I can’t keep away.”

There’s a playful hint in his smile when hooded eyes glance your way, just for a second. It settles deep in your stomach, the churn that pulls and tightens.

“It’s okay, if you ask me, the town is cursed.”

He laughs at this, it’s deep and throaty when he nudges your shoulder, reaches across and offers the jar of sauce.

“I think you’re on to something there. So, what’s kept you?”

You reach across to spread the sauce on the dough, watching the red seep and blend with the stark white, Eddie steps back, lets you manoeuvre in front of him to reach the sides.

“Dads wanting me to move to collage.”

You hum in response, evening the sauce into the sides, dipping into places you missed.

“And what do you want to do?”

It rumbles like a distant thunderstorm, his breath seeps across your neck from behind you, the warmth pricks bumps along your skin. The slight brush of his chest makes contact with your back, sends your mind deeper into oblivion.

“I, uh, I don’t know yet. Maybe travel.”

“Here.”

Eddie reaches around, leans into you as he guides your hand in smooth circles.

“It’s easier if you cover the whole area in one motion, the sauce will spread more easily.”

His chest moves in perfect waves as he breaths, the pressure pressing into your back with each inhale and it only sends yours into unease. Each lined breath comes short and uneven, it’s a wall that’s compressed against your rib cage, shrinks with every small move, slowly suffocating.

You nod back, willing yourself to pull some kind of composure but when his hand holds yours steady against the wavier of motion, just the view of his hand engulfing yours, sends your hormones in active overdrive.

“That’s it. Just like that.”

It’s over. Your heart shutters to a complete skip, missing several beats as your pussy throbs. It’s a dull ache that nips painfully and if you don’t find a way out now, you weren’t going to be able to stop.

“Are you okay?”

Eddie’s now leaning over you, his hair fans your shoulders, the angle of his words ring like a perfectly chimed bell through your ears as he runs a pad of his thumb over your knuckles— The task of spreading sauce long forgotten.

You instinctively lean into his touch, your throat catches on dry air, leaving a strangled groan to brush your lips. If it weren’t for Eddie keeping your hand so stable, you’d be a complete fucking wreck.

“Am I reading this wrong?”

No, god no.

“Eddie..”

“Just say the word, I’ll back off.”

No, please. Don’t.

“I don’t—“

“We’ll forget it ever happened. Go back to normal.”

But, I want it too happen.

“No, please. Eddie.”

Your hips sink backwards, finds the dip between his thighs and you grind, it’s slow and pitiful, pulls the most needy whine from your lips. Breath is sucker punched from the hollow of your chest, a tension snapped after it had been so far strung out and the gasp that hinders in your throat when Eddie pushes back has all reason bailed and running for the door.

“Fuck.”

The spoon is long discarded and Eddie’s now got both palm’s following the contour of your waist, his fingers dip in to the curve of your frame, touching and teasing the exposed skin.

It’s a helpless battle of push and pull, your heads rolled so far back it now sits in the dip of Eddie’s shoulder, while his hands play puppet along the underside of your breasts— curious palms test the water, squeeze the soft skin underneath, lengthy fingers creep to come full circle and caress you. The warmth spreads like wildfire through your veins, the pinch of fingers as he toys with your nipples has your mouth gapped and hiccuping gasps of air, it all feels like fire and ice and it makes you strain harder— Your hips arching painfully back in search of friction as his ever present bulge presses harder back, looking for one of the same.

“Jesus Christ.. Fuck.”

Eddie groans into the sparse of your throat, the mumbled words pressed into flesh when he moans around the soft of your throat. Teeth graze, pinch, bite. Sink so deep that the skin threatens to break, it’s a purple stain that bleeds instead.

“Fuck, Eddie. Please.”

It’s a complete fucking disarray when Eddie takes hold of your waist, fingertips bruise when he spins you around and hooks two palms under the back of your thighs, lifting you up like you were nothing. Your ankles meet at the small of his back, your hands graze the definition of muscle along his arms when they link around his neck. Your ass perfectly cupped in strong hands and you can absolutely feel the mess created between your thighs. It’s soft and wet, humming with pressure that begs for release and when Eddie places you on the opposite counter, needy hands drag you to the edge, it’s a collision of lips and teeth.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

A fight for air between heated kisses, Eddie’s forehead rests against yours as his fingers work at unloosing your jeans.

Black eyes bore into yours, it’s a pit of lust and desire, the edges burning with flames when he mutters the sentence, each lingering stare silently asks permission with every pop of button he releases and you simply moan back in response, in approval.

An arm slings around your waist, Eddie hoists you up slightly, enough to get a pull on your jeans and pull he does. The thick material drags down your thighs and gets tossed at his ankles.

Eddie’s taken two steps back, enough room to give way to remove your pants and underwear, now, he’s standing there— All tall and built. He’s not overly muscular, toned, but his presence is big and demanding. In one swift motion, Eddie reaches behind him, grips a handful of material and effortlessly slips it over his shoulders and head, leaves him in low hanging sweats— A curtain of curls follow suit, leaving the strays still damp to cling to the dip of his temples. The display of tattoos is mesmerising, his torso, chest all littered in black and white art, tales of story’s and pictures of moments— It’s absolutely beautiful.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?”

There’s a dark ring to his tone, it pulls from the back of his throat is a rasp, a growl almost.

You nod your head, all dumb and shy, feels like you’re drunk just from the view.

“Fuck, baby. You can’t do that.”

You whimper, small and needy, watch as his cock twitches beneath his pants.

Eddie does growl this time. It’s predatory and deep, has you white knuckling the edges of the counter when he comes closer. Your whole body is limp on impulse, reacting to the man in front of you. You knew how you must look, all drawn out and needy, not exactly how you expected to play this out but the tables quickly turned when Eddie shown a slight hint of dominance.

“What did I say?”

Eddie’s hand comes to cradle the side of your throat, gentle, holds you there while he nuzzles into the latter side, breathes in the scent. He’s slotted perfectly between your thighs, a puzzle piece meant to be, and his painfully hard bulge presses into where you are most vulnerable.

“You’ll have to remind me. I forgot.”

It’s absolutely dripping in tease, has your confidence spiked and you wanted to test the waters, see how just how far you could sink before you drown.

“Don’t fucking play with me, baby girl.”

“Ah, Eddie!”

Teeth hook into your throat, skin pinches when he releases, slides his hand to cover the front of your throat.

“Mm. A little fight in you, huh?”

The pressure is evident, it’s spreads across your throat where fingers pinch the sides, tips your head back to bring your vision to his and it feels so fucking good. Your body tingles all over, feels like there’s a flood baring through your bloodstream, making everything heightened— sensitive.

Even if you wanted to fight back, you couldn’t. The palm encasing your throat kept its firm hold and the desperate whine that leaves your lips was anything but expected when you felt Eddie’s latter hand smooth up your thigh. It’s a trail that burns, leaves behind a tingling sensation that scorns your skin. Eddie’s fingertips graze the slit of your lips, teases the sensitive flesh and when the pad of his thumb rolls over your clit, so do your eyes, falling helplessly into your head as the wave of euphoria blankets your senses.

“Na uh, baby, look at me.”

Eddie’s fingers dip into your entrance, your slick making it to easy while his thumb stays steady circling your clit. The intrusion has the walls of your pussy fluttering, they clench around the thickness of his fingers, drawing them in to the knuckles.

Your head falls forward, caught by his grip as hooded eyes strain to focus on the man in front of you.

“That’s it. Good girl.”

His eyes swallow you whole, pull you in head first and you had no plans on stopping it. Eddie’s fingers find a pace, pumping in and out of you, his thumb never leaving your clit. Your entire body trembles from the high, your senses so far on alert that it has you internally screaming. Your stomach washes in waves, the draw of pleasure been brought to the surface, you can feel the bubble, the drop.

“Oh god, Eddie.”

The curl of his fingers has you tipping over the edge, your pussy fights with every draw of his fingers, the heated pressure against your throat sends you further. It’s all a collision of white heat and pleasure, has you babbling and moaning complete chaos.

“Oh fuck, Eddie. I’m going to—“

“Eyes on me, baby. I want to watch you.”

The second your vision locks with his, you’re brought down in crashing waves. Your pussy contracts, leaves your thighs shaking. It’s intense and hard, the release rushes through your system in a whirlwind, boils your blood and leaves your head in a blissed out fog.

Eddie removes his hand from around your throat then his fingers, slowly. Let’s the ride of your orgasm slow before placing the two finger’s between plush lips. His tongue darts out, swirls and sucks the evidence of your cum from his fingers. It’s a fucking sight to see, dark eyes follow your motion before he releases with a soft pop.

You absolutely should be completely fucked out, your body heavy is evidence of it but the need still claws in the pit of your stomach, the hunger that bleeds and screams for more.

You reach out and pull Eddie back in, your ass slipping further to the edge from the slick created when your mouths meet in a tangled mess of lips and breath. You wanted to feel him, taste him. You wanted to explore and trace and Jesus Christ, you just couldn’t get enough. Your hands weave in a knot in his hair, groans vibrate through his chest at the action as you abandon one hand to reach between you both. Finding the hardness that hid beneath his pants, eager hands work through to slip between the barrier of material and skin.

“Ah, Jesus. Oh fuck.”

Eddie moans against your lips and you smile in response. Your hand sinks and wraps around his length, your palm working in slow strokes, doing what you could with how much you had to work with. Eddie was big. Thick and lengthy. You’d be lucky if your fingers could touch around the girth and as Eddie fucks up into your hand, you realise just how much bigger he was.

“Jesus Eddie.”

You hadn’t really need to say it, Eddie knew.

You break from the kiss, slip your other hand out from his hair and tug the left side of his pants down. Eddie chuckles, helps the process by pushing the remainder down, his cock still grasped in your hold and fuck where you right.

Eddie wraps a hand around yours, uses the other to hook a finger under your chin and dips his head into your line of vision.

“You doin’ okay, sweetheart?”

There’s humour in his tone. Your eyes are blown out when you nod, smile. Spreading your legs wider with invitation.

Eddie places both hands to cup your face, presses forward and you feel the gentle nudge of his cock spread your pussy. It slips perfectly, your slick making easy way when he breaks the head in. The stretch burns, it’s subtle but there and when he inches further your throat breaks out in a pitiful cry.

“You’re doing good, baby.”

Eddie’s forehead rests against yours, his gaze holds yours in reassurance when he presses further. It’s unmistakable the width that your pussy is being stretched, its a mix of pain and euphoria, leaving behind the most delicious throb.

“That’s it, baby. You’re taking me so well.”

“Oh, Eddie. Fuck.”

Eddie’s thumbs run the pad of your cheeks when he bottoms out, you whimper against the movement, the pain easing from discomfort to pleasure and it courses through your system like a new high all over again.

Eddie draws out and thrusts back in, his rhythm is steady, slow. Each drag pulls new waves, each one has you moaning for more. The pleasure undeniable, it brings forwards a hunger that seemed to be starved, a pulsating heat that hooks your arms around his neck and has Eddie’s palms resting on your thighs, spreading you further. It’s absolutely filthy the image in front of you. You watch Eddie’s cock disappear in the hollow of your pussy between your legs, fingerprints stain your thighs as Eddie picks up the pace, his hips crashing against yours in a wet collision.

“Jesus H Christ, you’re so tight.”

Eddie’s tattoos flex along with his thrusts, the pictures and words dance across his skin, the black ink shining with sweat.

“Fuck, oh my god.”

“Ah, right there, oh fuck.”

Eddie’s railing you with relentless force, it’s a sticky wet fucking mess, echos of skin and moans bounce around you and his cock feels so fucking good. Your chest hammers against your rib cage, air seems to be long gone with every thrust. His curls stick to the creases of his forehead, his eyes watching you intently, almost possessive.

Your hands weave into the back of his hair and settle just at the nape, knuckles knot around the curls and you pull, Eddie’s head jars back momentarily and when he comes back to eye level there’s a flare of desire that bares straight to your centre, ignites a wildfire.

“Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.”

Eddie grits out between teeth, the rumble in his tone matches the harsh imprints his hands leave upon your thighs, blunt nails scarring the skin.

“Show me, god, please.”

It’s down right fucking pornographic the moan Eddie emits, he wraps his arms around your waist and without falter, without removing himself he lifts you from the counter and lays you out on the floor beneath.

Before you even tried to protest, Eddie has your legs hooked over his shoulders, your knees press to your chest as he fucks into you. It’s deeper, the thrust of his cock hits the soft of your pussy and has you throwing your head back, even the contact with the harsh floor doesn’t register— Just Eddie’s cock sending you into complete fucking meltdown.

“Like this. M’ want you spread wide fucking open.”

He’s not shy, he pounds away with force and perfect precision, dips his head into the curve of your neck and his moans are like the perfect melody, ringing loud and hard.

“Oh fuck, Eddie. Jesus.”

“Let go, baby. Let me fucking feel you.”

Your stomach churns, the warmth bubbling with one last thrust into your soft spot and it has you clenched tight around his cock. Your orgasm baring down like a earthquake, leaving your thighs trembling and your body fucked out.

“Fuck, good girl, you feel so fucking good.”

Your pussy is soaking, Eddie fucks your orgasm right to the very edge, coats his along too. His thrusts wavier, you feel his cock swell and you reach out, grip his waist and urge him deeper.

“Shit, fuck, I’m going to cum baby.”

His eyes search yours in a hasty need, searching, asking.

“I’m covered, fill me up Eddie, please.”

It’s bares more a whine than a moan, the desperation drawn on every word.

“Holy fuck.”

You feel the hot substance coat the inside of your pussy, Eddie’s release seeping into the most intimate parts and it’s has you on cloud fucking nine.

Eddie sinks above you, his weight rests lightly above yours, the air is thick and humid, filled with heavy pants for air and raspy ends of lingering moans. Eddie rolls over, loops an arm and takes you with him, curled up beside him, tangled in arms and legs and it’s absolute bliss.

Eddie chuckles softly, nudges into the crook of your neck.

“Well, fuck.”

[onyourhyuck]

LOWKEY. | N.JM

— Prologue: “I like what we have.”

— Summary: You and Jaemin are best friends but behind the close doors you have a lowkey relationship that no one knows about.

— Genre: Fwb smut. Best friends to secret fwbs. Suggestive and soft sex. Lazy sex. Pussy eating. Jaemin loves Y/n’s thighs so much.

— Notes: Lazy sex honestly hits differently.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

One word to describe you and Jaemin? Lowkey.

You’re best friends everyone knows that. People can mutually agree that you and Jaemin are close friends nothing else but what you know is the opposite. Behind the close doors you’re the one spread wide open for your best friend letting him have a taste as much as he wants.

Behind those close doors lies a secret that no one else knows except you and Jaemin.

And it excites you because you love what you have with him. It’s a secret only you and him have. Nothing else matters when you’re alone together by yourself with your true, true selves. You don’t have to pretend you guys don’t want one another when you equally want each other.

Jaemin doesn’t have to bullshit his way out to say you’re only a friend when in reality he knows how your lips tastes. He knows the chapstick flavour you use. He knows you like to mismatch your underwear and he thinks it’s wonderful you do.

Or the fact that you have a these mood swings when you wake up and he isn’t in bed with you. He knows that you love to cuddle someone or something to fall asleep otherwise you want go to sleep.

He knows things ‘friends’ wouldn’t usually know.

Right now you’re lazing with Jaemin on the bed. Your arms are wrapped around him and he has the same arms wrapped around your body together, you guys are in the most comfortable position you don’t even need to move to get comfortable because Jaemin’s chest was the perfect pillow substitute. And you were a cute little baby wrapped in between the forearms as he looks down at you cuddling you even closer because being close to you simply wasn’t close enough for him. You’re staying over at Jaemin’s house today. He told you to come over because he missed you and who were you to say no to that?

You ran out the door the moment you read the ‘I miss you’ text and then arrived at his doorstep the next second.

You’re keeping this so lowkey your parents don’t even know or your mutual friends aren’t suspecting anything which is fine. Because when you’re alone with Jaemin you feel like you don’t need anyone else.

You see your best friend looking down at you and he gives you a little kiss on your forehead at the centre as your bangs were in the way of your eyes he slowly wipes them upwards with his thumb. He takes his gently time to swipe them back so he can look at your face without having your hairs in the way. You enjoy seeing how soft he can actually be. You’re just lazily laying there trapped between his tight embrace as if he was never going to ever let you go.

You let a small smile, watching the sinewy beautiful boy in front of you. “Jaemin you might suffocate me if you keep squeezing me and kissing me right here.” He wore a white tee shirt short sleeves and the black hair very loose and soft. It looks like a bunch of cotton candy to you or at least that’s how his hair feels like to you. It’s very soft. You’ve never touched anything soft as this. Jaemin’s bare face was also, extremely handsome you wonder if you’re gazing into a real life prince.

Your best friend playfully frowns and kissed your forehead again. “Hmm one more?” He asked you and you feel your eyebrows raise up. “Okay, one more.” Jaemin went for another kiss but then he just goes and pampers your entire face with kisses; he attacks your forehead with his lips, your cheeks, your eyelids that are closed, your chin and jawline. He even kissed your ears and the sides of your neck now. You feel so overwhelmed by how fast he kissed you in all those different places. At the same time they were soft and sweet too.

Jaemin’s very much affectionate when he’s alone with you like this and he feels so safe with you.

You let out a soft laugh. “You said one more, that was at least like seven times.” He heard you say this and he smirks softly leaning up and staring at your eyes a little bit.

Jaemin shifts on top of you hovering above as he stares down at your beautiful face and he’s practically taunting your lips wanting to kiss them. No. He needs to kiss them.

Jaemin’s silvery and husky voices has you hyperventilating at times because it’s so deep and soft with love and adoration for you. “I wasn’t counting, to me that felt like one kiss.” Jaemin retorts back to you running his fingers through your hair that feels so warm.

You want to tell him that he was in fact counting he just didn’t want to say he wasn’t. You know at times Jaemin can be very smug.

When the time closes the both you found yourselves in a lazy makeout. It starts of slow and low on energy. There’s no extra movements, no extra efforts put into the kiss. It’s just lazy kisses that can make your skin crawl and your heart run wild.

The lazy makeouts while he’s on top of your softly brushing his thumb across your inner cheek makes you melt like a puddle in middle of the Highway.

You didn’t even realise that you’re making out with him with slight more I resistant intensity now. The lazy makes-out went from zero to a whopping hundred when Jaemin began to brush his tongue within the seconds of the kiss growing more and more frisky between the two of you.

Your bodies get even closer. You sat up on the bed as Jaemin did the same. He sat up to pull you closer by your waist and the kiss not once broke off between the both of your faces. He caressed you and your body feels warmer in response to how good this all feels. It feels like you’re going to explode into something that will have you squealing with excitement and joy for him.

Your heart picks up a rate when Jaemin slips his hands around your shirt and slowly takes it off, your eyes were closed in that moment as you’re focusing in giving everything you have in the kiss you’re sharing with your best friend.

Jaemin didn’t waste a minute to pull you back down and lay you in the same position as previously you were in. He breaks it off as he looks into your eyes longingly.

He needs you, so bad.

“I don’t want to move, but I need you so bad.” Jaemin whispers brushing your hair and tucks it behind your ears.

You look at him understanding what he meant. He was feeling like lazing around with you and being in bed with him was such a good comfort thing to do. You don’t feel like moving too much either so instead you just kiss his lips a little and the sides of his neck.

“We can keep it lowkey.” You whisper. “I like what we have.” You’re reassuring him because you want him to know you feel the same as he does.

He doesn’t need to put too much effort. Jaemin smiles liking your answer and he found it appealing to him because you just know the right words to say everytime he needs you.

His hands tug on your sweatpants, which are his but you’re wearing them at times now. Whenever you come over you tend to take his clothes with you. Jaemin slips them down to your ankles and he reconnects his hands around your thighs. Jaemin kissed your knee and then your thighs he loves so much. They’re just the perfect size and if anything he sometimes wished you’d suffocate him around them. They’re so warm too, probably the warmest place around your body if you don’t count your breasts.

Jaemin won’t do anything too much effort but he will do enough to pleasure you and him at the same time. He doesn’t even need to get any pleasure to stimulate him because him pleasuring you was a way of giving him a better pleasure anyways.

He always finds your pleasure to be the most thrilling. It turns him on. It makes him satisfied.

Your hands prickle at his hair when Jaemin lowers the head down picking at your panties he slips them off and then, he takes an admiring look between your legs at your regional central. Jaemin saw how much your pussy looks to be begging to him at this point you’re anticipating it hard.

The moment you feel your best friends mouth open and touch at your clit giving it a little kitten lick you feel your eyes clench. Jaemin works his eyes down at your pussy not even bothering to look at your face right now because he’s too focused on giving you the best but low effort pleasure yet. Your body was very loose and relaxed because of all the cuddling you did with him earlier.

When his tongue laps around your two folds perking up at the erecting pleasure you feel his hands gently knead and fold around your inner thighs, he squeezes them at every lick he does at your cunt or when he wants to give you a little more of a harder time he shifts and sucks longer at your clit by using his teeth light to graze over, like a canon shooting out balls of pleasure at your body.

Sure, you don’t have a label with Jaemin. You say you’re best friends but you’re clearly more than that. But at the same time you wouldn’t say you’re boyfriend and girlfriend. It’s like you don’t have a label but you’re so comfortable being like this with him you don’t mind it.

At the end of the day labels don’t matter right? As long as you have Jaemin and he has you, that’s all that matters to the both of you.

And none of you would swap it for the world.

Your face cannot hide the pleasures that the boy down below was giving you and giving only you. It was something you cannot control because your eyebrows flutter like a pair of blooming Iris’ whenever he tastes you even more like he’s been imprisoned for decades or centuries.

The seeping tongue coursing through your insides and your clit makes your body skyrocket and sluggish with more this continues and Jaemin drags his mouth like a landmark on a map.

He traced his tongue down even further as his fingers made little progress between your smooth skin caressing your beautiful inner thighs and upwards up the pelvis, and right above your hips he gave a tight living squeeze as Jaemin’s breath began to pour against your cunt.

The room was filled with your sigh’s or your own running thoughts you spoke when the pleasure got too much.

You were allowed to say whatever you wanted because this was yours and Jaemin’s safe place. No one can see your relationship behind the closed doors because this was lowkey.

He wasn’t doing much effort yet he made you tremble by the lewd pulsing indulges the mouth was gaping at your watering hole, with the whole world behind the door not knowing a single thing that your best friend was eating you out like no tomorrow, and you love it, you love it so much you don’t want it to ever stop.

It was so mollifyingly beautiful, to see you look so spread out for him and taking everything Jaemin gave you because you’re such an amazing girl who listens to what he’s willing to do for you.

It’s times like these he’s the most grateful for you. You let him relax and be himself. He doesn’t have to do much to please you and you’re appreciative.

Jaemin of course does so much for you. He goes the extra length for you in anything.

The pleasure enhanced by the second, your eyes open now and you staring at the ceiling as your mouth escapes out your begs — oh how sweet your begs make Jaemin so weak and drunk on your sweet sweet darling cunt.

“J-Jaemin… I’m… so close, I don’t think I can last, Jaemin…” you repeat his name, in such short threats you feel him diving even more into your sating pretty pearl that he rubs his tongue on your perky lips down below contouring your pleasure.

Your nub was so abused by the boy below hungrily burning his mouth on the space between your spread legs.

One quick thrust from his mouth all at once had your orgasm reaching a certain high level of speed rushing out of your lips.

Jaemin saw you rasping at the bedsheets as your legs sent miniature spams and he saw your thighs jig around between the intensifying orgasm running wild at your stomach you sucked in.

The boy held your thighs down pushing your body against the bed when your body went to arch forward off the bedsheets. He made sure to force you back down as Jaemin didn’t move backwards, no, he stayed and pushed his tongue further more inside until he had all the taste of you.

“Ah.. ahhh fuck…”

Your hips buckle forward doing a little dry hump against your best friend’s mouth as he was making you cry from how good this feels.

Jaemin hums against your sex with tiny purrs leaving his beautiful plum lips looking so kissable. Moving away from your cunt he looks up at you seeing how well you took all his mouth provided, and you’re not left slightly breathing abnormally as it leaves your oxygen levels decreasing.

The blood rushing to your head and your cheeks was a visible sign that you were feeling better, now that you came on his mouth and Jaemin loves the taste of you too.

“Hmm… you taste so good, so fucking good.” He whispers as he leaves his face away from your sex and slowly looks at you with lambing eyes at your flushed face.

The cloying nature of the situation catches up to the both of you and it didn’t take long until he laid down next to you and you wrap your arms around his chest as you lay next to one another.

None of you said anything else but your eyes spoke words to each other that your lips could never achieve to rejuvenate.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates. It helps a girl out <3

[cameronspecial]

I saw you were looking for some angst ideas lmao

So rafe and reader are together. Loves her more than life but his addiction gets in the way of that. One night they have a fuming argument and she doesn’t talk to him for a few days. He then makes a plan for them to talk about it somewhere private at nighttime, but when she shows up he’s not there. She waits for him for a while then she gets attacked by the rafes dealers because he owes them money and she was the next bet. Rafe finds her and he’s freaking out but she won’t let him near her and she blames him. You can choose how this ending goes or if you even want to write this but this has been on my mind

You Deserve Better

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Drug Use, Swearing, Stabbing, Blood, and Death

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.1K

Masterlist

The centre of Rafe’s life wasn’t always the white powder that tumbled around the little Ziploc bag that lined his pockets. His centre is supposed to snort or wheeze a little whenever she laughs, refusing to use her inhaler because she doesn’t want to embarrass him. It will stay up past her bedtime because she is in a flow with her work. His sun crosses her eyeballs whenever he presses a kiss on her nose because she knows it would make him chuckle. Y/N Y/L/N used to be his rock and now, all because of an accident, she isn’t anymore. That is something not a lot of people know. They assume his addiction started because he was a bored rich kid who had the money to spare. However, in reality, it began with a torn ACL. One wrong shift of his leg and his football career was over. At first, the oxycodone was only to manage the pain from the ACL surgery. He had the hope that he could recover the way he needed to get back on the field, but then the news came that he wasn’t progressing the way his doctor wanted… That was when the problem started, suddenly the drug he was taking to help ease his physical pain became the one to take away his mental pain too. The pain of not being able to play football. The pain of missing out. The pain of not knowing where his life was going.

Don’t get him wrong, Y/N was by his side the whole time, except a person can’t be everything to someone else and he needed a therapist. He just wasn’t ready to admit that. It was only when he stopped being prescribed oxycodone that he turned to cocaine to fill the mental hole the prescription used to be for.

———

Rafe’s blown pupils are hidden by his eyelids as he lies back on the couch. Y/N is still out with her friends, so he isn’t sleeping. Not when she is not at home. The front door opening and closing makes him jerk forward. His eyelids are just a sliver because the light from the ceiling is too bright for him. Her footsteps approach the living room and the large sigh she lets out makes her arrival known. “You didn’t do the dishes,” she states, her hand resting on her jut-out hip. “And the hole in the hallway is still there.” Yesterday, Rafe, in a high state, accidentally made a hole in the wall when trying to put up a picture frame for her. He promised her before she left for work this morning that he would get what he needed to fix it this morning and in the afternoon, he would fix it. However, before he could get himself to the store, he saw a post from one of his old football teammates, who went pro and he spiralled. 

He doesn’t mean to roll his eyes, yet it happens and this causes her to let out another huff. “I didn’t get a chance to go to the store,” he grumbles like he didn’t care. He really did though. He wanted to be able to do something that simple for the girl who meant everything to him, except his mind seemed to disagree with his heart. It is easier to pretend it doesn’t bother him. Her eyes narrow in on the residue of powder on their coffee table, “Let me guess, you got your nose caught up in some business. Rafe, you promised me you wouldn’t do that shit at home.” He can’t keep looking at the way tears start to appear because he knows how worried she gets when he does drugs, always scared he might overdose. He looks anywhere but at her. “Don’t get on my ass about this again Y/N. You don’t know what I am dealing with,” he argues.

“I don’t and that’s the problem. You need to talk to someone about how you are feeling because you are going to put yourself in an early grave if you keep doing what you are doing now.”

“Seriously, we are going to argue about this again because I didn’t do the dishes or fix a little hole in the wall.”

“No, we are going to argue about it because you aren’t the man I fell in love with anymore and I don’t think if I can do this anymore. I want to be by your side to help you get better but if you don’t want to, then I don’t know if I can be here forever.”

Her words hit his ears at the same intensity as they would if he were sitting next to an airplane engine. They had arguments about his sobriety so many times before, yet those fights always had the underlying understanding that she would be there to help him. She never once mentioned the possibility of her leaving him because she truly did want to help him find his sobriety. His mouth falls open to talk. No words come out. How can he possibly swear that he wants to get better when he isn’t at the self-realization point in his journey? She takes the silence as an admittance that getting clean isn’t on his mind. “I need some time apart. I’m going to sleep at Deliah’s place tonight,” she informs, turning to leave. He doesn’t stop her; he wants to give her the space she needs in hopes that she realizes she can hold on for a little bit longer. The only word he can respond with is “Okay”, right before she closes the door behind her. 

———

She hasn’t answered any of his texts and calls. Her night of taking some space turned into a week and it is driving him crazy. Her non-existence return may have to do with his unwillingness to agree to go to a therapist. After the thousandth attempt at calling her, she finally answers the call. “Normally, when a person doesn’t pick up the call, it means they don’t want to talk to you.” He lets out an internal sigh, “I know, I just need to talk to you. Please, can we meet at our spot, Sunshine?” She could never resist the usage of his nickname for her. “Okay, meet me there in an hour,” she agrees. The call drops right after her response and he gives himself a small smile. Not only does he get to see her again, he gets to try to get her back. 

———

By the time she realizes she is being followed, she is alone under the bleachers, where she and Rafe used to spend their time in high school. It was where they found themselves when they didn’t feel like going to class or they needed to get away from the chaos after his team won a game. It was the place she fell in love with him in because even before they were dating when they were just friends, it was their spot. She spins around at the sound of grass being pressed down by a set of feet, ready to scold him for being late. It isn’t Rafe as she expected; instead, an average-height man with a dangerous air that scares her. The gleam behind his eyes tells her the bald man is up to no good, which is confirmed when he pulls out the hunting knife from his hoodie pocket. She steps back in an attempt to get away from him, but her back hits against a metal beam. The man rushes toward her and presses the sharp edge against the soft skin of her neck. “Your boy owes me money and since he is taking too long to get it back to me, I thought I would hold onto something precious to him until I get what I want,” the man explains with a wicked grin. She refuses to show him fear and looks him dead in the eyes, “Rafe’s dealer is Barry so I have no idea what you are talking about.” “He stopped going to Barry because Barry started getting on his case about how much he is using,” the male growled, not enjoying the bite to her bark. She chuckles like a maniac, “When Rafe comes, he is going to beat your ass.” “Shut up, Bitch.” Angered by his words, her knees find their target between his legs. 

He lets out a howl and doubles over in pain. She uses this as her opportunity to attempt an escape, trying to run past him. Unfortunately, he reaches out to stop her and this results in the blade driving into her abdomen. A gasp passes her lips, causing the dealer to look in her direction. “Shit.” His eyes bloom open and immediately begins to pull it out. “No. Don’t pu-,” she warns, except it is too late. The weapon is already out and he is running toward the exit. She hunches forward and stumbles back against the beam, pressing her hand to her stomach to keep from bleeding out, feeling as though she has been punched. Calling 911 seems to be the logical answer; however, when she goes for her phone, she finds it broken on the floor. She thinks about going to her car and is stopped by the feeling of even more blood gushing out of the wound as she tries to push off the beam. It doesn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. 

“Sunshine,” rings through her ears. Her dizziness makes it difficult to focus on the speaker, yet she knows who it is based on the nickname. She slides down the beam because her legs lose all their strength. Rafe rushes to her side and kneels beside her. “Shit, Sunshine. It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. I’m going to call the police. They are going to fix everything,” his voice breaks as his hand joins hers to stop the flow of his blood. She can hear him relaying the information to the dispatcher, but her body is telling her something Rafe isn’t going to be ready to hear. He places his phone on the floor so both of his hands can press on her abdomen. “They’re coming, Sunshine, just hold on. I promise. I’ll be here the whole time.” Her handshakes as she raises to his cheek, staining it with her blood. Her tears water at the edge of her bottom eyelid, “I don’t think I’m going to make it.” His head shakes vigorously. “Don’t say tha-.” She cuts him off, “Can you please just listen to me?” He nods to let her continue. “It was your dealer. I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad. Just to make sure he gets arrested. But I need you to know that you are more than just your addiction and football. I know you don’t think so, but you are and if you just realize that, then you will see the man that I fell in love with.” “I don’t deserve that though. Look at all the shit I put you through. You deserve more than a druggie as a boyfriend,” he cries, holding her hand against his skin.

She smiles up at him, “You deserve more too. You deserve to be truly happy. You deserve to try to find a new purpose in life. I want that for you.” “How can I find all of that if you are gone?” he questions. Her breathing begins to become laboured, “You’ll find yourself and once you grieve, you’ll find someone who can help heal your broken heart. That’s how.”

“I don’t want anyone else. I just want you. Please, don’t go. Will you please stay if I promise to get sober?” 

“I will be with you every step of the way.”

The words tear his heart in two. He knows what it means. She truly doesn’t think she is coming out of this alive. “I want you to see me get better though. Please. Just hang on a little longer.” His tears cloud his vision. When he doesn’t hear a response, he wipes his eyes to get a closer look at her. The world goes dark at the sight of her glassy eyes only reflecting back his face with no recognition or life behind them. The rise and fall of her chest have stopped. The universe decides to answer his calls for help at a cruel moment as he hears the siren finally approach. There is no use in their hurry if the person who needs saving is the one to do it because Rafe isn’t going to let her last words die with her. He is going to get better, not only for her but for him too. He deserves more than a life of chasing his pain away with drugs and he is determined to achieve that.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

[astrid-sorensen]

The Farmhouse | Joel Miller x f!reader

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: sᴍᴜᴛ, ᴘɪɴɪɴɢ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ɴᴏᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴏғ ʀᴇᴀᴅ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5ᴋ

MASTERLIST

"Kiss me." You asked, muted. “No.” He grunted. “I ain't your boyfriend.” He whispered coldly. The words stung in the air.

Joel might have been the most closed off person you have ever met. The only sound filling the room was Ellie's repetitive giggles as she read through her book.

The pages between one hand and a sandwich in the other. You had known Joel for a few days now, learning nothing about the man except he was from Texas. Except, there had to be something behind his stoic facade, I mean he had saved you after all.

The cordycept was hurtling behind you, darkness filled the library as feet slapped patterned tile. At the end was a light, a door held open by the brawn brunette male.

With little time to spare you'd passed him, the tall rectangular wooden door sealing shut behind you.

Panting short breaths out your lungs, you stepped down the grey stone steps towards a young teen, who you would soon learn was Ellie.

"Thank you! Oh my god! Thank you!" You turned to face the man, only now getting a good view of him.

The skin complimented the golden undertone of his flesh. Thick black and grey hair sprouted along his hairline.

A week or two later, all three of you rested for the night. You'd found a small abandoned gas station, gracing Ellie with a sleep on an old, leather couch.

You and Joel shared the abused brown linoleum, not much more than a foot between you. You rolled to your side, staring at the back of Joel's head as you debated your next move.

His wide shoulders were now in front of you. You couldn't stop yours fingers from slowly shaking over his skin, tentatively. "What are you doing?" His low voice, cutting through the air like a guillotine.

"C'mon, I've seen the way you look at me." You breathed, confidently.

"Don't be ridiculous." He spat back. Not moving away from you as you continued exploring him.

"What's stopping you. This could be our last night alive, and I haven't been fucked in so long."

Joel heaved a big sigh. You fingers continued to dance under his shirt.

Joel held his breath a moment longer silently begging you would stop before he'd give into his needs.

He needed to let off some steam, some pent up angst, he needed a release.

But alas, you didn't stop. The pads of your fingers grazed circles to his stomach slowly pressing down harder before going gentler again. Articulating your craving for him.

There was a soft layer of hair all over him and you felt the resistance as you moved your hand through it.

Feeling it thicken towards the centre of his abdomen and chest and then thin once you run it towards you again.

The next thing you know he's pulling you up onto his warm strong thighs, the denim scraping against your leggings.

His hands trapped you onto his legs leaving no room for you to move as he grinned upwards, his length hardening at the friction.

You felt your core moisten a cheeky smile grazing across your lips with pride as your hands went to his broad well built upper body.

One hand ran to your clit, rubbing the area as the wetness collected into the fabric, Joel could feel it seeping through.

He tugged at the waist of them, watching where your bodies met as you sat up on you knees letting him help you tear them off along with your panties.

He pulled you back on top of him, his knees widening to a v as he planted his feet firmly to the floor.

Knees bent to keep you in place, exactly where he wanted you. He continued pulverising into a rythm.

His lip caught between his teeth, the frown on his face deepening though you thought that wasn't possible.

You fingers moved to his jeans, fumbling on the belt as he nudged you off, undoing the leather band and buttons himself.

Then shuffling them down his thighs, so his cock could spring free.

One hand to the flesh of your ass the other to the base of his genitals, rubbing the sensitive skin of his tip between you lips, lubing it up.

He was slow, taking care as you felt your body build with excitement, craving to finally have him fill you up inside just as you'd anticipated.

The thought of how well endowed he was had crossed your mind more than once. At least you finally had your answer, and you were not disheartened.

He run up your slick one last time before finally pushing into the wet opening.

He felt your pussy crowning around the tip of his dick.

His jaw swung open and in that moment you knew this must of felt as good as it did for you as it did him.

He pulled his hips back, his tip almost slipping out before he moved back up replacing it to where it once was. His thumb rubbed at your cliterous.

This man was skilful, your body squeezing him to fit him inside.

Eventually he slid all the way in, your body tense and gripping around him. Both his hands squeezed at your ass, massaging into the flesh as he began bouncing you on his dick.

"Kiss me." You asked, muted.

"No." He grunted. "I ain't your boyfriend." He whispered coldly. The words stung in the air.

I know your not my boyfriend

A moan run from your mouth.

"Shut up, don't want Ellie hearing."

Another gasp fell from you lips.

"What did I just fuckin' say?" He grumbled, stilling as you felt your pussy pulsing around his length. Your hips bucked trying to gain some friction but it was no use against his strength, stilling you.

He moved a burly hand to your face, his thumb and pointer, clamping into your flushed cheeks as his palm cupped your mouth.

You whimpered into his skin, your neck straightening as he carried on, brutally fucking up into you.

Your hands lay against his chest, holding your balance, though you weren't sure if you needed to.

You crossed your arms over the hem of your shirt lifting the fabric before Joel swiped them off, you losing your grip of the cotton.

"Stop tryin' take your clothes off." He whispered, sternly.

"Why not?"

"If we gotta run, you gonna be focused on that shirt tryna pull it back on." Joel uttered into the night.

"Fine." You grumbled. It wasn't how you'd imagined, but I guess beggars can't be choosers.

Soon his rythm became sloppy, his end nearing as well as yours.

His wet thrusts kneading into where you needed him most.

"You close?" You nodded frantically, squeezing his hand your breast as his joined in. After a few more pumps you were letting go, stilling as you felt your whole body freeze, clamping down on him as electric shocks ran through you.

He fucked you hard through your release, edging on his own. You were spent, your whole body softening as Joel used you to satisfy himself further.

Fingertips gripping harshly into your hips as he pulled them down onto him.

Heavy breaths leaving this lungs. His large hands seized you by your ribs and quickly pulled you off, throwing you in between his legs as he palmed himself into oblivion. His cum spurting up into fountains then falling down into the base of his pubes.

A gorgeous hot flush was over him. His greyed hair slightly damp and lost some of its volume. A sheen coated his forehead as he brought a hand up to it, combing slowly down his hairline before gripping the crown.

Regaining composure.

He gave himself a second to catch his breath before reaching for the bottom of the curtain, ripping of a piece of fabric and cleaning himself up before pulling his jeans back up and righting his clothes to how they were before.

He made no eye contact as he did this, then turning onto his side away from you just like he had been before.

You sat, shocked and hurt. You ached for the intimacy, praying he would drag you over to him and pull you into his clutches. He didn't.

"Sleep, long day tomorrow." He stated, before falling completely silent. You moved pulling your leggings back on and crawling over to where you originally set up camp. Closing your eyes and begging for sleep to swallow you.

You woke the next morning to Ellie nudging at your sleep. "Hey wake up! I'm really fucking hungry and were outta food."

You grumbled, sitting up from where you had lead on the carpet, rubbing a sore knot in your shoulder to ease the pain from sleeping on the floor. Joel and Ellie were all packed, bags on their backs and guns in hand.

—

"Hey, how's watch going?"

"Fine." He replied, avoiding your gaze. God this man was difficult. There was an awkward silence as you waited. "Couldn't sleep?" He asked.

"Nah, restless." You moped. "Has anything ever snuck up on you when you were sleeping then? You know, cos you always insist on keeping watch and stuff."

"No." The male began. "But you can never be too careful."

"Hmm, I'd say fuck it. Get your sleep. Can't be killing cordys, running on an hours nap."

"Yeah but you also needed me to save your ass back there. So I think I'll stick on the side of precaution."

"Touché." You nodded, wandering aimlessly around. "You know, there's a reason I couldn't sleep."

Joel didn't answer but turned to look at you, a bored look plastered across his face, one eyebrow slightly perked in interest. "I was wondering if you wanted another repeat of the other night, you seemed to enjoy yourself."

"So did I." You flirted, eyes gazing up at the man as you wondered towards his direction.

He looked you up and down before returning his gaze into the distance, gun still firmly held against his chest. He chewed his lip, seemingly at war with himself. An entire ethical debate going on behind those black coffee eyes.

You lifted your fingers to his jawline, caressing the scraggly coarse hair of his face, scratching lightly at the skin underneath. You run it down to the exposed part of his chest, just between the collarbones before undoing a button, teasing further.

He swiped your hand off harshly slapping it away. Joel swivelled his gun down beside him.

"You want me to fuck you again?" He gritted through his teeth, half a question, half an answer.

"Mmhm." You nodded, cheekily.

"Right here?" He scowled, signally to where you were stood. The look of his face was disrespectful.

"Yep." Joel shook his head, sighing before looking around, pulling his gun off and putting it to the floor.

"Leggings down, now." He ordered. A smile crawled onto your lips, moving your fingers to the waistband of your pants, pulling them down innocently as you waited for his next order.

"Gotta be quick."

He said nothing as he pushed at you waist, edging you to turn around. He pushed you further, causing you to stumble forward til you reached the trunk of the old abandoned car.

You leant forward, arms bent up to rest your head on instead of the cold rusty metal of the car. Joel placed two hands to your ass cheeks, spreading your legs apart as he dived between them.

He spat into his hand cupping you sex and rubbing quickly, preparing you for him. He stood up, one hand flat to your lower back as he levelled himself to your hole.

"Do you want this cock?" He whispered, darkly.

"Yes, Joel. Please fuck me." You whimpered, bucking your hips back into him, but he held you in place with a deathly grip.

"Fucking Slut, you gotta be real quiet for me though." You hummed as he pressed in, forcing himself between your folds.

You cried out quickly, biting your lip to stifle the sound.

He fucked into you with violent force, your hips bones pressing into the vehicle. You felt his soft huffs behind you, the brunt force making the car rattle.

He carried on a moment longer before pushing up the back of you jacket to lay a kiss to your tailbone. "Too loud." He pulled you off, arms crossing underneath your own and lifting you a metre to the side like a toddler.

He kept one arm there, the muscle holding you up as he inserting himself again. He fucked into you harshly, the only sounds were his wet thrusts slapping into you.

You wined, rewarding you with a firm grasp of his hand against the sides of your throat. His breath heaved in the delicate eardrum of your ears. You gasped for air, you knees buckling as you came to your finish.

Shaking around him. He felt you go floppy, moving his hand down and watching you fall onto the leaves below. He moved behind you, angling your hips up so you were now on your hand and knees.

He braced your hips as he connected with you again, brutal thrusts into you from behind til you could tell he was close. Within an instant you felt him pull out, hot wet spurts on your ass as he came.

He admired the view, swiping off his ejaculate with his hand and handing it to you. You watched him innocently. He moved his fingers to your mouth and you sucked off the juice that was there. You pulled off and he twisted his hand, motioning you to clean it off. You waited patiently as he checked to see if there was anymore, finding some leaking between his thumb and pointer.

You swiped it off, the feeling sticky and salty on your tongue, swallowing all the residue down. He pulled his jeans back up, doing up his belt before fetching his gun he'd left on the floor. You followed pulling up your leggings.

"Go sleep." He ordered.

"You know I could keep watch for a while."

"No. Go to sleep, I'm not gonna ask again."

You wondered back, slumping to the floor and curling up under the blanket. You slept well after that.

—

"Are you ever gonna look at me again?" You scoffed, half joking, half annoyed. He didn't reply. "Hey, what's your fucking problem?"

"I'm just tryna get me and Ellie to Wyoming, I don't know what your so goddam pressed about."

"We had sex okay, it happened. You don't have to keep in a 10 mile radius from me."

"You asked me to fuck you and I did. Stop acting like it's anythin' more than that."

"Seriously, Joel I'm a fucking person! Or has it not occurred to you that I have feelings?"

"Not my problem."

"God Joel, your such a cunt."

He huffed.

"You were just somethin' to put my dick in. Nothing more than that." He cursed out, cruely.

Goddamit Joel, that was harsh. Where the hell did that come from?

He thought to himself.

You eyebrows raised, hurt but not surprised. Joel was cruel, Joel was cold. Your eyes then shut, a bigger smile crossing your lips as you stormed into another room, tossing down your jacket and curling up. Allowing the tears to roll down soothing yourself with them.

—

Ellie woke to the sun, shining through the newspaper clad windows, as she rose from her bed for the night. She went to wake up Joel who was already sat up, sorting through his things.

"Good morning!" She said cheerily, scanning the room quickly before asking. "Where's she gone?" Joel signalled his head to one side as Ellie wondered round and knocked on the door.

"Hey, you up yet?" There was no reply as she entered finding a bare room. She traipsed out poking her head into the other before returning to Joel. "Which one she in?"

"Next door."

"By next door do you mean in another motel, cos she sure as hell ain't there."

"What?" He growled, jumping from where he was sat and storming into the other room before booting into the next and the next. Your name rang through the halls, echoing across the bare property.

Joel ran, poking his head out to the distance. Then running to the opposite side, seeing your grey clad frame, wondering off. "Wait there!" You turned noticing the man before you began running, bolting across the field to the safety of the trees.

"God I'm too old for this." He huffed, catching his breath. You stopped running once he caught up, no reason to keep up the chase whilst he'd definitely gain on you and practically tackle you to the floor if it was what it takes.

"Fuck off Joel!" You spat, avoiding eye contact as you kept your head firmly ahead, not too certain where you were really going.

"No, about what I said."

"Oh you mean the part where you told me I wasn't even a person to you? Just a hole to put your dick in." If I remember correctly. In fact you did remember clearly, very clearly, too clearly.

"I mean" "I mean, I didn't mean it." "I didn't know what to say to you." "Fuck I'm no good at this."

"No your really not." You grumbled continuing to walk on.

"I'm tryna tell you I'm sorry."

"Oh, it was nothing. We're even, See ya!" You mocked.

"Please stay, if not just for me, for Ellie. Your the only one that gets through to her." "She loves you."

"She does not love me."

"She does, I'm old. I know that stuff when I see it. She always wakes you up first, she never picks arguments and she never walks on without you. She trusts you. "You know she'll never believe it wasn't her fault you left."

Fuck how could you do that to her, everyone she's ever loved has left her one way or another. She at least deserves a goodbye. And here wasn't the time.

"Please, don't fuckin' leave," His gruff voice broke.

"Okay, one more night." You started. "So I can say goodbye."

"Hey where the fuck were you running?" Ellie called, jointing you were you were in the clearing.

"Just tryna get a head start, your still pretty hungry aren't you?" You teased.

"Oh man, I could eat a whole horse." She laughed. You joined in letting her catch up to you as all three of you went off into the woods. The plan was to head west, go round the next town over and carry on til you found somewhere to sleep for the night.

You walked for what felt like days, taking frequents rests to put up your feet before you kept going. You were almost through the last step of your journey for the day. You'd hiked round the small town of Arlington, coming up to a country house just a couple miles out the city. The place you were coming up to was perfect, a large white farmhouse, black windows and a porch. Now you think about it it kinda reminded you of bill and franks although more secluded. The tall grass was wetter here than it was back in Boston, slightly muddying and green and almost reached you knees as you wading through, watching dusk fall over the hills.

"Woah! This is perfect!" Ellie beamed, a wide grin ear to ear in excitement. Moss had grown up the walls almost completely covering the once lavish family abode.

As you got close enough to make out the colour of the window frames, a dark brown beige, you felt a burning feeling flush over your thigh. You all ducked, hands shielding your body and chest loosly as you looked around.

At first you felt as although you had wet yourself. God this was embarrassing, until a loud echo followed. Finally registering in your brain. Your legs buckled under your weight, falling into the long grass.

You looked down to your leg, almost as if it were in slow motion. You saw your leggings dampen and a small amount of skin shown through the rip of the fabric. And it was red. So red. A gushing pool coating you as you heard more shots go off.

"Stay down!" Joel yelled, the deep gargle emitting from his chest in desperation. Almost on cue, agonising whimpers leaving your mouth as you held you hands to it.

Need to put pressure on it.

Was the only thought running through your rampant psyche. Ellie had crawled off in front, perching behind a shrub as Joel pulled out his gun, lying on his front as he angled it up to the house, towards the fence he saw the shots come over. "Fuck!" You cried out, attempting to crawl.

Joel bounded over to you, one arm under you knees and the other under your arms as he pulled you into him with haste. "Hold on tight." He demanded, leaving no room for debate.

"Joel get behind that car, you can get a better shot."

"No, I gotta to get you somewhere safe first." He snarled, as he ran as fast as he could, you hands gripping tighter to him as you bounced in his arms. He darted to the short stone wall leaped over it and dropping you to the floor behind, catching his breath and he got his largest gun into a better hold. "Don't fucking move." There was a small softness around his stern words. Those earnest iris' bleeding into your own.

You lay your head back against the bricks. Panting as you held on tightly to your leg.

Goddam this fucking hurts

There was shot after shot, echoing across the fields and into the distance.

"C'mon, let's get you inside." He picked you up again, pacing quickly towards the house. He must've took care of the shooter. Ellie ran ahead. Joel kicked down the back door heaving you inside and bringing you to the nearest seat.

You flopped down, one hand tightly griping into your hair. Joel found a cloth and placed it harshly onto the wound, your own arms folding up as you seethed in pain, muscles tensing and contracting.

He lifted the fabric, inspecting the would quickly before covering it again. He was knelt to your side both hands down as he held them straight in place.

"Ellie, you find anything?" He called. You felt dizzy and sick, agony washing over you again and again, each wave stronger than the last. Tears were welling in Joel's eyes unable to hold them back his shell shocked look terrifying you even more.

You couldn't make out her response. You turned your head to the side, a heave of vomit coming out as Joel held you there with his shoulder. You were too weak to do it yourself. "Ok, keep looking!" You felt the dizzying again.

Please don't throw up again.

Joel watched your eyes lull back and go floppy, he tapped on your face trying to bring you back.

"Hey, hey." He said, following with your name. "C'mon, stay awake for me." He moved, opting to lift your injured leg into the air, hoping to help some of the blood flow.

Ellie handed something reluctantly to Joel, he looked down at it briefly, chewing on his jaw before getting to work Joel ripped the fabric of your leggings with one harsh rip, the one leg  of the fabric now it two for ease of access.

You eyes woke again.

What was going on?

Where the hell where you?

The whole place was rotten and mouldy, broken concrete everywhere. The wallpaper had been ripped at as if some had tried to scale it.

He threaded the needle, you saw white as he began. Curling the needle through your flesh. You screamed begging him to stop, crying in pain.

You fell out of consciousness, giving Joel a few seconds to carry on before you woke again, screaming the strength for him to stop. Blood had coated his whole hands, dripping onto the carpet.

"I know, I know, I know it hurts." He gritted, eyes fixed on your mutilated form. Soon he finished up, pulling the thread tight as it weaved through you flesh.

He pulled the needle off .

"It's over now." Joel sighed in relief, grateful he managed to finish it off. You head lulled back, hitting the sofa arm as a bittersweet bliss engulfed you for a short while, the excruciating pain of being sewn up finally completed.

You stayed conscious for a few minutes longer, moans and groans through you til you found some solace in sleep.  "Hey soldier." He said, your eyes fluttering before looking over to him. You looked down to see a thick heavy cloth strap tightly around your wound. "Did your nap help?"

"A little, still fucking hurts like a bitch though." you croaked.

"Well, there's a decent looking bed upstairs, do wanna sleep up there?" You nodded, letting the man pick you up how he did earlier and slowly take you up the stairs. You dug your nails into his shoulders as your leg grazed him, pain sizzling through your nerves. A soft whimper fell into the air.

"Where's Ellie?"

"She's sleeping, theres a little kids room. Countless comic books she's rummaging through." The floorboards creaked as you reached the top floor, Joel carrying through the door way with care.

He gently placed you down, shaking off a dusty quilt before slowly draping it over you. He disappeared.

"Here." He said handing you an open can of spaghetti hoops. Your stomach growled at the view.

"Thanks."

You gobbled it quickly, the Texan moving to the space next to you to sit down. He pulled you carefully to lie on his chest. You were far too tired to put up a fight. Plus he was much comfier than the flat lumpy pillows. "We need to find more food."

"Your injured, need to rest."

"No, we need to find food." You said firmly.

"I'll take care of that."

"What by yourself?" You mocked, rudely. He didn't laugh. "Joel I'm still leaving, once my leg is good and I got some food, we're going our separate ways."

"Downstairs got a fireplace," He began, hesitantly. "Probably some good soil out back and it's not far from the city to find supplies." He muttered, shyly. "Plus I think I could fix the stove, maybe."

"Joel it's not gonna work. I'm-."

"Wait," You shook your head, having none of it. "Fuck, woman." He groaned. His hands had grabbed your face, pining it to the headboard in a rigid grip.

"Joel-"

"I-I need, you." He spilled, the words leaving his mouth like a broken dam.

He gravitated in.

Desperation overcoming him as he pressed his small plump lips to your dry ones, moistening them softly with his own. The grimace on his face was too intense to miss.

His dark eyes begging, pleading with you. This was killing him truly, get himself open to show you his insides.

But there was something there you hadn't seen on him before, a softness.

His rigidness blunted at the corners. "Okay? I fucking need you, I've almost lost you before, I'm not risking it again."

"What?"

He played with your lips, grazing them carefully so they only just touched as he spoke against you still.

"Don't you dare fucking leave me in this world alone." Both of your eyes were sealed shut. conveying so much love and passion as his hands held you in place.

He broke off, looking you fervently in the eyes as you looked back into chocolate ones, seeing so much vulnerability and tenderness. "Don't you dare."

He searched your face, his brows tightly embroidered together and little downwards frown on his lips.

"Okay, okay I won-"

He slowly went down you neck, kissing the skin softly. He lay small warm kisses to the collum of your neck. Something has possessed this man.

"God I need you so bad right now." He grumbled in a mild undertone.

"Do it then." He shook his head firmly, objecting.

"No, your leg."

"Don't worry, plus it might help with the pain." Joel pondered, his brown eyes wandering off into the distance.

"I have an idea." He crawled down the bed, gently tearing your other legging up you thigh, laying soft kisses as he did so. Soon he reached the top leaving you in just your underwear and you pr t shirt on top.

He slowly moved you good leg up, bending it at the knee as he pressed on the exposed part of your thigh, easing his access.

He lay a kiss too your wetness, your heart pounding in your ears. Joel started helping you take your shirt off.

"What happened to always being prepared?" You quizzed.

"It's safe here. Plus I can't resist."

"What if someone gets in."

"They won't." He growled. He laid back down, gentle kisses.

You inhaled sharply through your teeth. Jaw clenching since you'd tensed your limb trying to chase the high. "Try stay still, gorgeous." He said, his eyelashes fluttering down so he didn't see your response.

The word fell from his mouth like it was the easiest thing it the world. Like he called you that all the time, like it was made for you.

You heart fluttered, your hand moving to his hair to comb through it, gently scratching at his scalp to encourage him on. Shorts pants left your lips, your release nearby.

Your couldn't control your pelvis tilting at the motion your hole clenching, begging for something to fill it. As if on cue, Joel's thick finger poked at where you wanted him.

The action earning him your body's praise.

"J-Joel." You moaned, he softly hushed you, affectionately.

Your eyes squeezing shut as you came.

"Joel, that was the best." He pulled off his shirt and jeans, climbing in beside you before tucking you both into the blanket as you cosied tightly into him.

His hand pushing all your hair of your shoulder so he could grip your face.

He pulled you tightly into his chest, one hand gripping your neck with so much force you thought it would fracture.

"Good, get some sleep. You need your strength back." He kissed your forehead, the warmth flushing across your face.

[orikiys]

🔖 、FAREWELL TO MEMORIES

ᘛ 𓏧     ࣪    𖠵 성훈 ☓ gn!reader. ꔪ ﹏ ᘒ angst implied exes warning nostalgia lots of angst mentions of kissing & 1.3k+ words

The apartment was a picture of chaos with half-packed boxes and disheveled belongings strewn all over the place.

The undeniably strong whiff of change lingered in the atmosphere, dense and overwhelming, and Sunghoon struggled to breathe in it. He stood amidst the scene of chaos, with a defeated expression etched upon his usually composed countenance. The bedroom was nearly empty except for the entirely packed cardboard boxes, ready to be lifted and sent away.

If Sunghoon were to lean in any closer to the labelings on the box, he would find himself staring back at the day it was introduced into his life. He could still hear the chatter from downstairs, could hear Jake’s laughter and Jungwon’s grumbling on yet another unknown topic. One that Sunghoon was not too keen to work out. Especially not today. Jake and Jungwon insisted on being there to help Sunghoon with the boxes but from the noises, that was the last thing they were currently doing.

Just over 20 minutes ago, Sunghoon had to intervene to separate the two of them because Jungwon proclaimed to have had ‘accidentally’ taped Jake’s hair while attempting to tape one of the boxes. In response, Jake had again, totally by ‘accident’ stepped on Jungwon’s toes.

He let his gaze linger longer onto the bedroom and sighed heavily. Sunghoon wasn’t nearly sure what to think of the sight that beheld in front of his eyes. His eyes raked upon one particular box for what seemed like hours yesterday. See, Sunghoon would usually like to call himself calm and collected, someone who is in good control of his own emotions. But he had no control over them the moment his eyes peeped into what the box held.

His fingers traced the white canvas that he took out from the box more gently than he expected. His shaky hands travelled over to the two handprints overlapping in the centre and just like a button, his eyes blurred out of focus as a memory hit him.

It was supposed to be yet another lazy Saturday afternoon, the kind where all you wanted to do was just be on your phone and procrastinate. But you seemed to have different ideas when you walked into the living room with a cheeky smile plastered on your face as you shoved a blank canvas into Sunghoon’s chest followed by two paint colours.

You’d insisted firmly until Sunghoon had no other choice but to give in to your demands. The following minutes passed by a blur when Sunghoon felt the wet semi-liquid swipe across his cheek followed by the sound of a giggle. And so, the paint war began leaving the two of you covered in sticky paint. At least the canvas was not messy.

And then he was met with an aching realisation that no matter how many more canvases he painted, none of them would hold the same beauty, the same meaning and the same art of longing as this one did. All because there wasn’t you right by his side anymore.

A sad smile tugged at the corner of Sunghoon’s lips as he carefully placed the canvas back into the box after wrapping it with a piece of plastic. His hands dug further into that box, despite the drop in his chest after looking at the canvas for mere minutes.

He then reached for a black journal with the title,“But I love you so much more than just to the moon & back”, a choked sound left his throat, something between a sob and chuckle as if he could almost imagine you saying the cheesiest stuff to him on a daily basis.

You had given him the journal after around a year into your relationship, your fingers intertwined with his as the two of you would lay in bed hours long and just flip through each page as if trying to relive another memory. As if that journal could restore the lost time. But of course, it didn’t.

Sunghoon used to see videos of people gifting journals of every single thing to their loved ones and he used to find them a waste of time. That is until you surprised him with one. He didn’t know what to expect when he first looked into the journal, but the last thing he expected was to cry while hugging you. The journal was the most beautiful thing he ever laid his eyes upon.

Each page was titled differently, from your first kiss to your first-ever make up after the argument. The in-between pages were filled with polaroids of the two of you. He didn’t know how to thank you then because words wouldn’t suffice of the gifts you’ve given him so all he did was love you, maybe a little too much that it hurt even more to let go of that very love.

He also remembered his first kiss with you— very well. He couldn’t ever forget the day. During the kiss, he swore that he could taste the stars in the heavens, and the Earth beneath their feet shivered with the sheet power of pouring out feelings.

That was what it felt like to kiss you. To be able to be called yours.

He remembered when you once said to him, “No matter what happens, we’ll aways stick by each other’s side. Promise?” And he did. He did promise— pinky promise, with a silly smile on his face because he had that much confidence in him to know that the two of you would always be together.

Sunghoon from now would have scolded Sunghoon from then so much for taking every little promise so less of value. But lessons were learnt, tears were shed, sweet whispers turned into yells and hearts were broken too, more than one.

Letting out a deep breath, Sunghoon carefully placed the journal back into the box and wiped his beginning-to-form-tears.

Before he could proceed to dig his hands for anything else, he heard the footsteps stomp their way into the bedroom and stop right beside him.

“It’s time to go come on,” Sunghoon raised his head curiously at the softness of Jake’s tone. Jake stood in front of the bedroom but not quitting entering it. One of his hands was busy with the phone while the other just held a small carry bag.

“Yeah, give me one minute,” Sunghoon mumbled back, quickly moving to gather his own stuff and throwing his backpack over his shoulder. He followed Jake out of the house and watched as a taxi pulled up.

The memories flood back as the car inches forward down the driveway, taking the three of them further and further away from the home he grew up in. Sunghoon looked around at the familiar neighbourhood for what seemed like the last time and he could feel a pang in his chest.

As they pull out of the driveway, Sunghoon can't help but be overcome by nostalgia. He takes one last look at the house, feeling like part of it is being ripped away from him. The memories come flooding back, vivid and real, leaving him feeling disconnected from reality for a moment. He closes his eyes, trying to hold on to the feeling, but it slips away, leaving him with only the comfort of the memories.

“I can’t believe I would ever see the daylight and Sunghoon crying together!” Jungwon exclaimed as he looked at Sunghoon from the passenger seat. The said guy lets out a surprised laugh at that and shakes his head in denial, “I’m not crying.”

“Of course you aren’t,” Jake joins in on the Sunghoon teasing club making him huff.

“But hey, you’ll at least have us, yeah?” Jake reassures with a smile as he pats Sunghoon on the shoulder.

Right, that’s true. He’ll always have them to fill in the holes in his heart.

[jasmineoolongtea]

― like a rockstar ✧₊⁺

― the ways in which they're like as your rockstar boyfriends

contents: gojo x f!reader, geto x f!reader, choso x f!reader (reader wears a skirt), kinda suggestive tone for them, nicknames are used (baby & love), headcanons/brief drabbles a/n: title is based on like a rockstar by chase atlantic (chase atlantic my loves <333), might do more characters/scenarios with this concept if you guys like it/have any ideas for it, any likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated as always ♡

thinking about rockstar bf!gojo satoru who always dedicates his sets to you. it's kinda become a tradition for him to start off with a public declaration to you to his crowds of eager fans cheering and chanting his name with all their might.

"this one goes out to my girl out there in the crowd." he says with a devilish smirk, his cerulean eyes landing on you with calculated precision. thousands of eyes follow his outstretched finger that's pointing to you, most of them probably burning with jealousy from his fangirls, but you could care less about them when all you're focused on is him.

basking in the bright glow of the spotlights, there's no other way to say this except for the fact that he looks devastatingly handsome in his white tee and silver necklace with your initial on it and how it clings onto the ripples and reflexes of his toned body. you have a matching one, of course, a shiny letter 's' that clings to your neck, he gifted it to you before going on stage a few shows ago. "now everyone can tell we're just for each other." he remarks against your lips before crashing his into yours.

you wave at him shyly and blow a kiss in his direction, one he catches with ease before swinging the electric guitar strap around his neck. he sends a nod to his bandmates, signalling for them to start before taking centre stage again as he leans into the microphone.

"all these songs are just for you, baby."

thinking about rockstar bf!geto suguru who insists on getting a kiss from you before he goes on stage. "it's a good luck charm love, trust me." he asserts, taking your hands in his with the cold silver of his rings making you shiver slightly.

you're wearing that lipstick that he likes, the dark red one that looks so good when it's smudged and ruined from his own lips. he brings his thumb up to your bottom lip, running it slowly across the satiny finish in the way that makes your breath stop momentarily.

"where do you want it sugu?" you'll ask, as you always do, fluttering your eyelashes innocently and looking up at him with your doe eyes.

"anywhere you want, love." he whispers in your ear, the smooth timbre of his voice sending tingles down your spine. there's a fire lit within you, and a mischievous grin graces your features.

that's how he ends up going on stage with red lipstick on his lips and on the side of his neck. rumours were definitely going to swirl around this but that was the least of his worries when he spots you off on the side, donning his leather jacket with pride.

now you two are matching and wearing something of the other, him with your lipstick boldly marking him as yours and you in his leather jacket that smells just like him. he doesn't tell anyone but for you, he pulls out all of his tricks in his set tonight.

thinking about rockstar bf!kamo choso who makes sure you get front-row seats to whatever he does. doesn't matter where or when, no matter how inconvenient it might be, for choso, when there's a will, there's a way.

you knew that about him but that doesn't mean you were expecting him to pull you onto his lap during one of the band's practice sessions when he saw that all the other seats were unavailable. you feebly try to push him off as you insist that you'll find another seat somewhere else, your cheeks heating up with slight embarrassment as you do.

"but baby, i need you close to me." he'll say as he pouts at you, his grip tightening around your waist as he nuzzles his face into your back. his bandmates don't even blink an eye at his antics, already used to how attached their drummer is whenever it comes to you.

you sigh to yourself, your hands cupping his cheeks as you look into his eyes, a lovesick expression painted on his face. "you promise me that this won't interrupt your practice?" you ask as you feel one of his hands leave your waist and absentmindedly start to wander up your thigh towards the edge of your skirt.

he nods fervently, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips as a sign of confirmation. you're sure that the only reason that he isn't diving into your lips like a starved man as he usually does is because he's not in the mood to have an audience, in the form of the rest of the band, for it. you readjust yourself on his lap, making sure that you're situated in a better position with your back flushed against his toned torso as he rests his chin upon your shoulder.

his breath is hot against your ear as he whispers to you. "i'll play even better 'cause you're here."

[hvlplvss]

| quiet

| slytherin!colby brock x quiet!hufflepuff!reader

summary: in which, the noisy and rude slytherin boy starts to take notice in the shy quiet hufflepuff girl who reads constantly.

warning: people being mean to reader, lowkey bad like redemption from colby tbh

authors note: this is awful i’m gonna sob.

loud (part two)

for some reason, y/n had always preferred the quiet. she surrounded herself with quiet people and she tended to stay away from those who were loud and didn’t follow the rules.

yes, she was friends with hermione granger, despite being two years older than her and disagreeing with all of the trouble her and her friends got themselves into. but hermione enjoyed similar things to y/n and they understood each others passions.

however, there were many in y/n’s year that’s she did not get along with. sure, there was fred and george. but they never did anything to her, they’d never pranked y/n or messed with y/n. mainly due to the fact hermione had asked and y/n had never really done anything wrong. so y/n could make exceptions for the twins.

but colby brock and sam golbach would be the death of her. sam golbach being the distant cousin of draco malfoy, someone else who she couldn’t stand.

sam and draco had once teased y/n a year or two ago. she couldn’t even remember what it was for, in all honesty. she didn’t even really pay them much attention due to being use to the slytherins tormenting her.

colby brock however, just made her blood boil. sure, he’d never done anything to y/n directly. but the way he acted to other people and the professors, made y/n want to strangle him to death.

for whatever reason, colby believed he was above everything and everyone. something which y/n couldn’t stand about people. egotistical people. egocentric. she couldn’t understand how he thought he was better than everyone.

colby, like mentioned before, hadn’t done anything to y/n personally. but he and sam had teased her friends on multiple occasions during lessons and even teased hermione, despite her being two years younger than them. make that make sense.

he was just one of those boys who would be unnecessarily loud for no reason. who would throw things around the classroom, or mess with other students potions when they weren’t looking, causing that unfortunate student a weeks worth of detention with snape.

y/n sat in the courtyard on a bench by herself, reading a book that was gifted to her over the christmas holidays. the weather was just beginning to warm up, only slightly though. so y/n had wrapped herself in a jacket and her yellow hufflepuff scarf.

as she flicked through the pages of her muggle book, she heard oncoming voices. y/n looked up and noticed sam, colby and a few other slytherin boys entering the courtyard from the main building.

she immediately averted her eyes, in fear they’d notice her. she thought that she had gotten away from the teasing for just one second, as the boys seemed to pass her. when a voice abruptly called out to her, “what do we have here?” it was sam. she didn’t even need to look up to know the smirks and grins they’d have on their faces.

y/n looked up, her face reddening in embarrassment, hoping she’d get away from this easily. “miss y/l/n!” sam grinned.

y/n looked up at the boys who approached her. sam being front and centre of them, draco to his side, the same with theo, mattheo and lorenzo. her eyes slipped through the middle of theo and draco and noticed colby stood at the back.

he was carefully eyeing y/n up. his eyes scanning over her, almost as if he were inspecting her. his eyes moved to her face and she looked down at the book, which she gripped tightly in her hands.

“not up for talking, hey?” sam asked. he looked to his friends, the stupid idiotic smirk still on his face. he reached down and swiped the book out of her hands, even though she felt like she was gripping onto the book for her dead life.

“what’s this?” sam then taunted, passing the book to draco, who opened it, beginning to read small passages in it. mocking y/n. y/n’s eyebrows furrowed in anger, but she was too scared to say anything, everyone knew that. y/n never spoke up for herself.

draco moved his hand to the top of the page, holding a few of the pages at the top. he was going to rip the book. a book which had been gifted from her father, who she rarely saw due to his job in the ministry.

but as draco went to move his hand, a voice called him out, “draco,” it was colby, “just leave it,” he added.

y/n’s eyes flickered to colby, who had a hint of sympathy in them. sam turned to colby, “come on. what you being like this for?” sam asked, nudging his best friend.

“we don’t need to waste our time on her. do we?” colby stated, looking at his friends. they rolled their eyes at colby, draco throwing the book back at y/n.

“enjoy your stupid book, y/l/n,” sam said, walking away from y/n, his friends following after him.

y/n immediately stood up, not noticing colby stood there still. “y/n, i’m-” but before he could ever finish his sentence, y/n had rushed away from him, her eyes watering.

some may call her weak, or too emotional, but she couldn’t comprehend why they picked on her. she never even spoke to them, she wouldn’t dare to speak to them for a matter of fact.

by dinner time, y/n had decided that the interaction she had with the slytherin boys today was just enough for her to deal with, so she told her friends she was going to sit on her own at dinner, so she could calm down and just bring herself back to reality.

she sat at the other end of the table, near the great hall entrance, with an old book that she’d read over a hundred times in one hand and her food in the other.

she’d only chose this book incase the boys decided to pay her visit and ruin it. at least if they did, she’d basically have memorised the book by now, due to how old it was.

it was quite a short book compared to her others, so she had managed to finish the book quite quickly.

placing the book in her bag, which she had brought with her just in case anything did go wrong, her eyes scanned the room, looking at people. people watching. it wasn’t meant to be as creepy as it sounded, but it was just something so simple.

being able to watch someone be themselves, or do little things they thought no one would see. it was a constant thing y/n did in class, seen as she would finish the work before everyone else.

she’d notice the wealsey twins furrow their eyebrows in any lesson, except in potions as they seem to have knowledge in the subject. she noticed how colby would close his eyes and mutter to himself when he was trying to think of something, which annoyed sam, so he’d nudge colby and tell him to ‘shut up’.

her eyes scanned around the hall, landing onto hermione, who sat with ron and harry. hermione seemed to be telling ron off, for god knows what reasons. it seemed like that was all she did these days.

her eyes wandered down her own table, landing on cedric diggory. a boy in her year, who she was relatively close to, due to the fact she’d grown up with him. and he also would stick up for her when people picked on her for being so quiet. cedric noticed that she was looking at him, so he smiled and waved, to which she smiled back at him and looked away.

her eyes then mistakenly moved onto the slytherin table. immediately, looking at colby. but, he was already looking at her…

y/n’s eyes windened and her cheeks went a light shade of red. she immediately looked down at her plate, avoiding the intimidating boys eyes.

y/n continued eating her dinner, not daring to look up. incase colby was still looking at her. he clearly wanted to get her back or something. or just bring up earlier and y/n did not want to deal with the confrontation from colby.

but after a few minutes of silently looking down at her plate, a shadow appeared on the table, someone was stood in front of her.

“y/l/n,” colby.

y/n slowly looked up. she didn’t know what to expect. he tended to be very erratic with his decisions and very random with sudden outbursts. but y/n just prayed the gods were on her side.

“brock,” she replied quietly, her eyes averting his harsh gaze.

“i came over here to-” but before colby could even utter out another word, cedric diggory appeared next to him.

“is there a problem here?” cedric asked, his finger pointing between y/n and colby.

“no. there isn’t diggory,” colby sneered.

colby would never ‘start’ on diggory. he knew diggory would actually say or fight back, especially over y/n. he saw how protective he was over the girl, seen as she couldn’t protect herself. and as stupid as it sounds, colby brock thought that it was sweet. yes! colby brock did indeed have a heart sometimes.

“good. you alright y/n?” cedric looked over to you, his eyes leaving colby’s. but colby also turned to look at y/n.

“fine thanks, ced,” y/n smiled sheepishly.

colby’s eyes almost softened. he’d never actually heard y/n speak before. not clearly anyways. when she’d answer quietly in class, near enough whispering the answer to the professor, he’d be whispering to sam about something stupid, or maybe even half asleep if he was lucky.

but hearing her voice properly and clearly. not actually even realising how fragile and delicate she really was. as condescending as it sounded, it was true. y/n y/l/n was a delicate girl.

she carried herself well. she always looked perfect, her work always looked perfect, her grades were always perfect, she was always perfect. she was a perfectionist.

colby glared one last time at cedric, sparing one last look at y/n, who stared at him. he thinned his lips and turned away, walking out of the great hall, his friends watching him leave in confusion, sam even calling out his name.

cedric said a goodbye and walked back over to his friends, leaving y/n so confused on why colby brock was coming to even speak to her in the first place.

y/n looked over to where he sat, but looked straight back down as sam was glaring straight at her.

did he think she’d said something to colby?

she hoped not. y/n knew same would eventually confront her about why colby was coming to talk to her. but even she didn’t know why. so y/n’s goal for now, was to avoid sam at all costs.

even though y/n hated rule breakers, there was one rule she’d break herself. call her a hypocrite. but sometimes, she just needed that moment to herself, on the astronomy tower, when it was late at night. where she could name all the stars and constellations she could see.

this was a frequent habit and she’d only been caught once or twice. luckily, getting away with it, as professor sprout had agreed that y/n never did anything wrong. so she let her off and just warned her about trying not to get caught ever again.

y/n climbed the stairs to the astronomy tower, muttering some spells to herself as she had a test tomorrow in charms.

y/n opened the door to the tower and stepped in. that was when she ran into colby.

he was stood facing out, looking into the dark cloudy sky. he turned around at the sound of the creaking door opening.

y/n’s eyes widened, “i-i’m sorry!” y/n squeaked out. “i’ll go,” immediately, she turned around.

but colby took steps forward and called out her name, “y/n!” y/n? colby brock had just used her first name. she slowly turned on her feet, nervously fidgeting with her hands.

“stay,” he said. “please,” he begged. y/n slowly walked into the room, making her way over to the railing of the balcony. she stood next to colby, silently.

“i wanted to apologise earlier. but cedric never let me get to that,” colby spoke, after a few minutes of silence. “i want to say i’m sorry. for earlier. for the whole book thing,” he apologised.

y/n was unsure what to say. she was worried if she said something ‘offensive’ then colby would have her for it. but she was going to risk it.

“what about all the other times?” she spoke carefully. “why are you guys so mean to me?” colby sighed. he felt bad. really bad.

he’d always admired the girl from afar. colby brock thought y/n y/l/n was pretty. he’d always thought that.

“look- i- i know there’s nothing i can say that will take back all the times sam, draco or me have teased you. and i know that. and i guess, when i first saw you in first year, i thought you were cool and pretty. and that you were this shy quiet cute girl and i liked that. you weren’t like all the other girls in our year,” he explained.

“and when i was sorted into slytherin and you were a hufflepuff, i knew this changed everything. then, when sam began picking on you. he’s been my bestfriend since i was two. i couldn’t just turn against him and defend you. so, i had to stand back, and join in. and i know how that sounds. and it doesn’t excuse what i’ve done,”

y/n looked out. what was going on? she was in disbelief. what was she supposed to say to that. she was unsure. the only word she could come out with was “oh,”

colby grabbed her hands gently, y/n flinching slightly at the sudden action. “i’m so sorry, y/n,” colby repeated.

y/n sighed, unsure in what to do, “i can tell. but it’s going to take a while for me to even trust you,” she responded.

colby could only pay attention to how softly the girl spoke. he’d obviously picked up on it when he visited her table. but noticing her in this light, and hearing her this close up makes her a million times sweeter.

“but i’m scared colby. and i want you to be able to understand that,” he nodded quickly. “if you can gain my trust, i’ll think about this. i’ll think about us,” she whispered.

a smile fled to colby’s face, “thank you,” he smiled. he gently placed his arms around y/n’s waist, pulling her in for a hug.

she didn’t expect the gesture at all, not reacting at first, but then realised she had not reacted. she quickly melted into the hug, reaching up around his shoulders.

she held on tightly, cherishing the moment. if colby suddenly changed the next day, at least she could say she had some ‘moment’ with colby brock himself.

he slowly pulled away, placing his hands on her cheeks. “i do care about you. and im going to do whatever it takes to make you trust me, because i do like you,” colby promised. “i won’t let anyone mess with you anymore,” y/n nodded and smiled, leaning into colby’s touch.

the door to the astronomy tower opened, causing the pair to jump apart. it was snape.

“mr brock and miss y/l/n, i suppose you do realise it is past curfew?” he asked. y/n looked down at the floor in embarrassment.

she knew she’d not get away this time. sure, she did extremely well in snape’s classes, but he was strict on rules.

y/n nodded, “well then, i suppose you also realise you two must be punished? detention, tomorrow. don’t be late. now go back to your dormitories!”

snape left, leaving the door opened. “that’s my first ever detention!” y/n whispered to herself, in shock.

colby laughed at her reaction, “come on y/n, you’re gonna be hanging around with me now. you gonna have to get use to it,”

[yaksha-lover]

cw: vampires, blood drinking, gn but reader wears feminine clothing, making out, suggestive/implied content, 16+ please

Vil said he hated to share, but he seemed to make an exception for Rook.

The vampires caged you in, Vil in front and Rook behind. Where else would Vil be, but where you would be forced to look directly at him, to worship his every move? Rook was satisfied in the back, watching the two of you but keeping his arms around your waist. He didn’t have to be the centre of attention like Vil, but that didn’t mean Rook was willing to step aside completely.

Vil’s hand holds the back of your neck, keeping your lips locked with his. The kiss is needy and desperate; you think he’s trying to put on a performance of sorts, in front of Rook. To show him that no matter what, you’ll always be his first.

Rook is unbothered, content to hold you on his lap, hands drifting from your waist to your smoothing over the top of your stocking-covered thighs.

It was Vil’s idea to dress you up, but Rook was equally as delighted for you to play doll. They’d both agreed; white was your colour. You wondered if it was because of their vampirism; the desire to corrupt something pure, to see you as something opposite to their darkness.

That’s how you’d ended up dressed in this fancy lace. Between Vil and Rook’s resources, no expense was spared on your little outfit. The scarlet silk robe they’d given you had already come off as soon as Vil insisted you move from the couch to the bed.

Vil finally pulls away, giving you time to breathe. The reprieve doesn’t last long, as he demands Rook shift so he can have better access to your neck.

Rook moves you off his lap to sit in between your legs on the edge of the bed. Vil gently pushes your shoulders so you’re laying down.

He leans in close to your face, dropping a kiss on your cheek and whispering, “Are you alright, my dear?”

You look between Vil and Rook, both awaiting your confirmation, before nodding.

“Stop us if you need to, mon ange. I’m afraid vampires have a difficult time realizing we’re being too rough when dealing with such an adorable human.” Rook, still sitting by the edge of the bed, bends down to kiss your ankle cheekily.

“Not just adorable.” Vil says, a hint of something unidentifiable in his tone. “Someone we love. Have I ever told you that? This part…it’s different when we care.”

“You’ve mentioned it,” you reply. “Tell me more?”

“Perhaps we can save this discussion for later. I’m sorry, darling, but I feel I must have you now. Only if you feel the same, of course.”

Your cheeks flush, and you mumble an affirmation of your enthusiasm for what he desires.

Vil brings a silk pillow and uses it to prop up your head comfortably. You close your eyes as he begins to press gentle kisses along your throat.

You feel Rook settle between your legs. He turns one of them onto its side, giving him access to the inside of your thigh.

“May I taste your blood as well, MC? Two vampires biting you at once is quite the sensual experience but, of course, we will not take too much at once.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” Vil adds on.

“Please,” you breathe.

With your closed eyes, you miss the invigoration that lights their faces at your words. They return to peppering kisses onto you; Vil on your neck, Rook on your thigh.

When they can’t hold on much longer, Vil pulls away, breath hot on your skin as he mumbles into your throat: “Ready, darling?”

At your confirmation, the two place one last sweet kiss on you before they finally sink their fangs deliciously deep into your flesh.

The pain and pleasure swirl in your head - all you can think about is them. The way their fangs are nestled into you like they belong there. They hold you tightly to them, eager to feast on every part of you. There’s a sense of urgency and desperation, as though they’ll never be able to satiate the hunger that draws them into your flesh.

You writhe beneath them, unable to stop quiet breaths and moans from spilling from your parted lips. The feeling of two vampires having you at once is almost unbearable, but instead you find it utterly intoxicating.

Vil moans shamelessly against your neck, too engulfed in pleasure to be able to remain prim and proper like he always insisted on being.

Rook’s arms shift, circling around your waist from below and pulling your entire lower body closer to him as he continues to drink passionately from your thigh.

Once the pain fades, all that’s left is the rush. It washes over you like a wave, pleasure rolling down your body from where Vil feeds from your neck to where Rook drinks from your thigh.

It’s not just the physical feeling, either.

There’s a pleasure of sorts that comes purely from the thought of two beautiful men drinking your blood. Your men. Your vampires. Their voracious appetites left no doubt about their love for you.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[her-satanic-wiles]

October 7th

Stuck In Wall, Sodo/Dewdrop x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: Stuck in Wall; Dubcon; dry humping; piv; unprotected sex; trapped reader; semi-public sex; free use?; spanking; cunnilingus; fingering;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man

If you wanna be on the taglist, just reply or shoot me a message. If you want to scream at me, my ask box is also open!

🔞 MDNI 🔞

In a moment of surreal disbelief, you found yourself wedged in the narrow crevice of a wall that seemed to have a sinister appetite for unsuspecting victims. All you wanted was to pick up the pen you dropped. Cosmic punishment for carrying too many things - and your habit not having any pockets. The cold, clammy surface pressed against your body, the rough texture of the bricks biting into your skin as panic surged through your veins. You were the proverbial Tinkerbell in the keyhole. Except your keyhole was a hole in the wall in the middle of Papa Copia’s in-the-process-of-being-refurbished suite. Your Papa was going to kill if you were late for your meeting with him.

“Help!” You called out. Repeatedly. But it didn’t feel like anyone could hear you.

You didn’t know how long you’d been trapped for - your voice was hoarse from calling out so much and you were convinced that you’d be stuck there until the builders came in the morning.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

“Dew! Thank Asmodeus! I thought I was gonna die in here.”

“What the hell happened to you? Papa’s out for blood, you wasted his time!” Swiss’ voice came next.

“Oh shit, how long was he waiting?”

“Long enough.”

“Swiss, please go tell him what happened. I don’t want him to kill me.”

“You want him to kill me instead? I see how it is.”

“No! He wouldn’t. Please, Swiss. Or I’ll have to run away and join a Catholic convent for converted Satanists.”

“Please,” Dewdrop said, “you’d burn up in hellfire before you could even reach the front door.”

“I’ll go, but you owe me.” Swiss told you.

You kicked your legs out. “Yes! Whatever you want, please!”

“Well don’t give me that power.”

And with that, you heard a pair of footsteps walk away and the front door of Copia’s suite shut closed. You were now alone with Dew. “We’d better work on getting you out then, I guess.”

Dew’s firm hands placed on either side of your hips and began to gently pull at them - he didn’t want to hurt you. The only problem was where his hands were placed. Sure, if he pulled hard enough, he could get you out of there with no problem. But the firmness and the placement had a heat pooling between your legs that shouldn’t be there. Maybe it was because you hadn’t been touched in a long time. Maybe it was because you were harbouring feelings for this nameless ghoul. Or maybe it was the action of him pulling you out from a vulnerable position, you weren’t sure. But what you did know was that you wouldn’t be mad at him if certain appendages of his touched certain appendages of yours. You vaguely heard Dew speaking, but you couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“What?” You asked.

“How did this even happen, anyway?”

You explained the situation to him.

“Of course, it would be you.”

The more Dew kept tugging, the more your habit rose up. There was a chill around your now damp panties where they had been exposed to the cold air. You were unsure how much of your underwear he could see, but you knew that you were on display for him.

You were also incredibly unaware of how Dew was feeling at this moment himself. The way that you were bent and exposed to him, the way that you were vulnerable at this very moment. He hated himself for how he was feeling but it was affecting him a lot more than what he wanted it to. And he certainly had no plans in acting on his feelings until his body moved forward a little faster than he wanted and his erection landed on your centre. He closed his eyes in brief relief, but now that he’d felt it once, he was desperate to feel it again.

You couldn’t believe that this was happening at first, that you felt what you felt. Dew was a great guy - one of the best. He wouldn’t take advantage of you like this. Never in a million years would he betray your trust. It must have been an honest mistake and that was the thought you had until it happened again. And again. And again. Each time he was hitting your clothed clit precisely and forcing you to hold back moans. You hand flew to your mouth and you shut your eyes tightly. If he was actually helping you and this was just what bodies did then you couldn’t make it weird. Like when your tattooist is leaning over you and you accidentally touch a part of their body you weren’t supposed to - just the nature of the position you’re in.

That was, of course, until you heard it.

It was quiet, barely there, but it was a groan passing his lips. Definitely a pleasured groan. “Dew, what are you doing?” You asked, trying to hold your own sinful noises back.

“Fuck! I’m sorry, Sister. I didn’t mean to but now I can’t stop.” He gripped your hips tighter and rubbed himself against your pussy more confidently now his game was up, and his noises came unabashedly, too. Uncaring whimpers and moans fell from his lips as he orchestrated his pleasure using your body: and it was the hottest thing you’d ever experienced, despite any anxieties you were feeling. Not because you didn’t want this - but because -

“Swiss could be back at any moment! With Papa! We shouldn’t do this.” A few of your own whimpers started escaping.

“No, you’re right,” you heard the zipper of Dew’s jeans unzip followed by some shuffling. You felt your panties being moved to the side, your soaking wet snatch now fully exposed to any passers by. “We really should stop.” His now unmistakably bare cock began to run through your completely naked folds, focusing on your clit as he continued to use you to get himself off. His voice was slow and monotonous as if he were entranced by his feelings. “We should stop.”

When his head brushed over your clit, you let out a particularly loud whine which made him thrust a little more next time. “Please, Dew.” You didn’t know what you were begging for. The logical side of your brain was begging Dew to stop what he was doing and help you get out. But the other side of your brain, the incredibly horny, touch-starved side, was begging him to position himself a little higher and just sink all the way home. Stretch your tight, little pussy out until it had molded to the shape of him.

Dew, however, seemed to take it as the latter request. His cock, now completely slicked up by you, was lined up to your entrance the second he heard your beg, and he began to push in.

“Fuck!” He exclaimed. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

“Satan have mercy - how are you so big?” You felt like your eyes were going to bulge from their sockets in a rather cartoonish way. “Where did you hide that thing? You’re tiny.”

That remark earned you a harsh slap on your ass cheek. “I wouldn’t be so mouthy if I were you, Sister.” He was now buried all the way to the hilt. “Not when you have no way to save yourself.” He pulled out of you and slammed back in, the force of it ripping a scream from your throat. You heard him laugh from the other side of the wall before doing it again.

“Fucking hell, Dew!”

“You like that?” He spanked you again.

“Yes!”

“Do you want me to do it again?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“No.”

“What?”

“Use your words and I might.”

“Please do it again, Dew! I wanna feel you do it again.”

He groaned. “You’re so pretty when you beg for it, Sister.”

He did it again, a little harder than before and coupled with another spank.

And again.

And again.

Dew knew what he was doing, and pulled out every move he had saved to fuck you like you deserved. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long, Sister.” He confessed. His thrusts were so brutal, you could feel the wall shaking every time he entered you.

Soon enough, you felt his thrusts become erratic, and with a quick “cumming!”, he emptied himself into you. “You didn’t cum.” He said mindlessly, his hand coming down on your ass one final time.

He groped your ass cheeks and pushed them up after the hit this time, which caused your labia to spread apart and allowed him to see his own come oozing out of you. He dove into your cunt, slurping his own seed out of you and playing with your delicate clit while his hands continued to pull your body apart. “We can’t have Papa knowing how I just sodomised his personal assistant, can we?” Dew taunted before plunging back in.

Once more, his tongue touched your folds and there was nothing to soften the impact, so you cried out in pain. But as soon as his tongue was on you, it vanished, to be quickly replaced by two fingers prodding at your entrance, pushing in without a fight and starting to work right away. His slender and long fingers curved downward to hit you where you were screaming, taking advantage of your position.

In order to get you to cum before Papa and Swiss arrived, he started to finger you more vigorously, amplifying the squelch of your heat. You could feel yourself teetering on the brink due to the way his fingers were sliding inside of you and how forcefully he sucked on your clit. You eventually came, biting into the knuckles of your fingers to silence the overwhelming need to scream.

That was when you both heard footsteps, and felt Dew’s hands rush to make you decent before the door opened.

“Tesoro!” Papa cried as he entered the room. His voice wasn’t angry, much to your relief. He was desperately concerned. “Topolina, are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?”

Still exhausted from your orgasm, you tried your best to reassure your worried Papa that you were mostly okay, save your pride which was incomparably in shatters at the present moment.

Eventually, they got you out of the wall.

But that wouldn’t be the only time you met Dewdrop for a secret rendezvous.

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

[sulfurz]

ೃ༄ CONSCIENCES EDGE (randy orton x fem!reader, ft. edge)

ೃ༄ PAIRING: randy orton x fem! reader, brief edge x fem!reader (just flirting)

ೃ༄ REQUESTED BY: anon

hi! can i request randy orton x fem!reader when they are dating and in a tag team match but against each other. and randy’s opponent keeps flirting with (y/n) in front of him to gets him mad. please :)

ೃ༄ WARNINGS: possessive!randy, slightly suggestive, edge being a taunt

ೃ༄ WORD COUNT: 1.4k

ೃ༄ NOTE: anon i really hope this is at least somewhat what you wanted because i had SO much fun with this request eek (as you can tell by how fast i wrote it). pls excuse the self indulgence that is: me adding adam as y/n’s partner but truthfully i would love to be in a sandwich between randy and adam so it just felt right (title pun is 110% intended)

the wwe universe knew two things for certain about randy orton:

1. he was an absolute monster in the ring.

2. he adored you.

when the two of you first debuted your relationship, he made the latter very clear, never missing an opportunity to have his hands on you — whether this be on your waist, his fingers in yours, or the possessive hold when he stood with his fingers dancing over your ass. randy orton did not share his women, and you were no exception.

so when the storyline called for you to turn on him, the wwe universe went up in flames. whilst some were undoubtedly unsure on how said story would unfold, most were exhilarated by how you came out night after night to sabotage the man you once loved front stage and centre. you were one of the greatest heels most fans had seen, and despite your villainous position, they loved you all the more for it.

of course, they never knew what went on backstage. how after you taunted the man in the ring, you’d fall straight back into his arms in a hotel bed that you wouldn’t leave until the morning.

it was when the story called for teaming up that people really lost their minds. a series of backstage segments that followed randy as he sought out someone to finally take you down. he settled on none other than than trish stratus in all of her powerful glory — your current competitor for the title, and that was when all hell broke loose. in a title match against trish, just as you began readying up for your finisher, randy ran in to prevent trish from losing her title, and solidifying themselves as the team which you would go up against.

then it was your turn to shine, a setup for how you’d end up here. trish and randy had promised a battle, and you were going to give them one in what the crowd believed would be a handicap match. you, and the writers, had other plans.

all three of you had taken the stage, ready to fight it out for the greatest prize of all, bragging rights, when the lights went dark once more. a known, and feared you think you know me? echoing through the dark arena. the crowd could clearly see randy’s face, the expression of shock as his former tag team partner turned enemy entered the arena and came to stand by your side — then the stage was set.

unbeknownst to your competitors, you and edge had an agreement. you’d follow the choreography, stick to the plan, except it was always fun to rile your out of ring boyfriend up, and who better to take the lead than the rated r superstar himself?

as the match started, you and trish taking first turn, you wasted no time in flooring trish, watching as she sold it to the crowd whilst you waltzed back to where edge stood at ring side. he didn’t touch you to avoid tagging himself in, but his intent was evident as he leant over the top rope, swiping his tongue along his bottom lip.

“i’d let you do that to me any day, sweetheart.”

from the other side of the ring, over the roar of the crowd you could hear the faint growl of your boyfriend, followed by movement as he stalked closer to observe the interaction.

trish recovered quickly, and the two of you returned to going back and forth for several minutes until she unleashed her cat fight move on you, and it was your turn to sell. if you glanced behind you from where you lay on the floor, you could see the watchful eyes of randy darting between your pained position on the floor, and your tag partner who was positioned in a crouch, undoubtedly showing randy he was staring at your ass.

when you dragged yourself to the side, eye to eye with a curled over edge, you were hyper aware of how randy watched intensely.

edge grinned, a knowing look in his eye as he made sure randy heard every word. “you look good when you’re all worked up.”

you smirked, unable to hide your own amusement at the snarl you heard from your right, before outstretching your hand to allow edge to tag himself in.

carefully, you rolled under the bottom rope, trish doing the same. but before your feet had even landed on the floor, randy had dragged edge into the ring and delivered a harder than necessary back elbow to the man’s chest. you winced for the sake of the show, but couldn’t deny the way your heart swelled seeing your boyfriend so agitated over you.

once again; randy orton did not share his women, and this was no different.

the two men put on a good show, wrestling back and forth with a series of high rope moves from both that most wrestlers wouldn’t dare perform. as scripted, edge managed to get randy with a spear before the latter kicked out of an undeniably dirty pin, but it just gave the man the perfect opportunity.

he tagged you in slyly, reaching for your hand but instead making sure he bypassed at the last second and made the contact via running his hand down the side of your waist and to your ass. the crowd roared as you and trish took your places again, but the look on randy’s face as he was pushed out of the ring by his own partner was immortalised in your brain forever.

it was a look that said everything: you’re mine.

when the battle began again, you were hyper aware of the weakened shouts from an (acting) injured edge, showering you with compliments that had you pretending to preen until suddenly they all stopped. you glanced to your side to see the cause of the silence, being greeted by the unplanned side of randy having edge pressed against the ropes, hands on the man’s shoulders until edge was forced to flip back into the ring.

the commotion was enough to distract you so that trish could execute a clothes line, knocking you to the ground as she tagged randy back in to continue whatever shallow beat out he was doing on your partner.

edge was well and truly down by now, and you made your attempt to exit the ring and let him fend for himself when a firm hand wrapped around your wrist.

instead of being met by your partners tag, you were pulled into the strong chest of randy himself, the man wasting no time before crashing your lips together. unplanned, but welcomed, you couldn’t help but kiss back just as forcefully, not caring that the cameras were catching every moment of the heated make out session right in the middle of the ring.

one of randy’s hands slipped down to exactly where edge’s had been, giving your ass a firm squeeze to elicit a gasp that let him deepen the kiss. it was filthy, and borderline offensive to the tv rules, but when randy pulled back and you saw the fire in his eyes, you were about ready to jump him right there.

one last bite to your shoulder and randy was moving again, stalking towards where edge lay writhing near the corner of the ring. he moved him just enough to pin him without a rope break, and when edge was unable to kick out, randy and trish solidified their dinner status. but, instead of moving to celebrate with his partner, randy walked straight back to your side.

his lips were back on yours again, this time pulling your teeth between his bottom lip in a show that would surely have you pulled into the office post match. you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not as one of his hands gripped at your waist, the other holding your head by the back of the neck so you couldn’t escape the kiss even if you wanted to.

not that you wanted to.

when he finally broke away, eyes ablaze as the crowd lost their minds, you could see the redness in his face from the possessiveness.

he looked like he wanted to eat you alive, and you welcomed every thought of it.

“you’re mine.” he punctuated his words with a kiss to the side of your mouth, open mouthed and dirty as could be. “only mine.”

“i know.” you whispered, enjoying the sensation of randy’s lips travelling down your neck. he didn’t care for rules in that moment as he latched his lips to the crook of your neck, a gasp leaving your own mouth before you could stop it. you raised a weak hand to the back of his neck as your knees buckled under the very public attention “only yours.”

3. above every woman in the world, randy orton had never, and would never share you.

details on how to request on my page

[icarryitin]

Psychopomp

spencer reid/gn!reader

besides having a crippling pepsi max addiction and being insufferable on this website my main hobby is Hozier Fan so pls enjoy some trauma bonding

series masterlist

word count: 1.6k // warnings: like two swears, canon level blood and injury, victim death, new colleague awkwardness

summary - You could have saved her, you’re sure of it. If you’d been quick enough. Instead, you’re just the grim reaper.

Stakeouts are not fun by anyone’s standard. Less fun when you’ve only known the person in the passenger seat for nine days - to make things even worse, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t like you.

Okay, that might be a bit presumptuous.

And maybe you’ve been awkward too, just a smidge. You’re trying so desperately to be cool about it, because he’s the cute guy at your new job and you don’t want to be that person. You’ve worked your ass off far too hard to get where you are, to even have a shot at the prestigious unit, to ruin it with a silly little crush on a coworker. Even if the glasses are absolutely doing it for you.

The woods are quiet through the windscreen, treeline barely visible past the raindrops falling heavier and heavier with every passing minute.

“Anything?”

The walkie talkie on the dashboard flickers to life to pierce the quiet. Reid’s eyes are still on the trees, so you lean over the steering wheel to pull it towards you.

“Nothing yet,” You press the talk button, “Any signs of life on your side?”

“None, cabin’s quiet.”

Morgan and Hotch are settled further up the track, carefully watching the suspected Unsub’s cabin. Your car is tucked off of the track entrance, in case the guy tries to make a break for it. It’s something out of a horror movie - creepy guy, cabin in the woods, the dark, the rain. You’re half expecting a werewolf to lumber out of the low hanging branches, dripping with blood and howling. But none such creature appears. Instead, it’s just quiet. Painfully so. You find yourself consciously keeping your breaths shallow and silent, you don’t want to disturb Reid any more than you’re sure you already are. Except, as you lean forward to slide the walkie talkie back onto the dashboard, your body betrays you.

The rumbling starts low, and for a second you’re hopeful that he won’t hear it at all. And then your stomach growls something awful.

You press your lips together and let your eyes close for a moment, let the embarrassment wash over you, before you open your mouth to apologise. He beats you to it.

“Yeah, me too.” There’s a sly little smile on his face, though he’s not looking at you. His gaze is still firmly stuck on the trees ahead. Still, it’s nice to know he’s not judging you. So you feel a little less self conscious about turning in your seat, about the eyes that follow when you lean through the gap to reach the backseat to unzip your bag.

It’s lunchbox time.

You’re not avoiding Reid’s eye per se, as you settle back into your seat with the plastic box on your knees, but you’re not exactly making any effort to meet it. He’s peering over at it - the sun bleached red box with a patchy kids show logo on the front, so scratched up that you can’t tell what it used to be anymore. But it holds more stakeout snacks than it feasibly should be able to, and that makes it perfect. You pull out a snack sized packet of jelly beans before turning it to face your teammate.

“You brought snacks?” He sounds surprised, but there’s no judgement in his tone, so that’s something. A tiny step forward.

“Always,” You glance up from the selection to look at him, “You don’t?”

Of course he doesn’t. He’s a professional. He’s old hat at all this, you’re the one fresh out of Academy packaging. Still, he leans over the centre console and snags a bag of dried fruit snacks for himself, pinched between two long fingers - he’s still got his arm stretched out halfway when the thud sounds against the hood of your car. The vibration of it reverberates through your seat, your gaze snaps up to spot two bloodied hands where they’ve slammed against the metal.

You know this woman. You know this woman because her face is in the file in your bag, her missing persons poster is front and centre on the board back at the local precinct. Time freezes when her eyes lock onto yours through the rain streaming down the windscreen, wild. And then she’s gone, tripping over rocks and twigs and her own feet, into the undergrowth. It doesn’t matter at this stage whether or not it’s a trap by the Unsub. Right now, Sheila Jenkins is running around in the dark and the cold and the rain. Terrified, injured, miles from home. You have no choice but to follow her into the darkness of the trees, you have to try. You’re out of the car and into the downpour before you can really think about it.

Reid’s voice carries your name through the trees after you, but it’s lost amongst the thunder in the clouds above.

She’s not far in front of you, injuries and rough terrain slowing her - but she makes up for it with sheer desperation. Fight or flight, and this woman can fly. Vaguely, there’s another set of footsteps somewhere behind you. Loud and uncoordinated, shoes wholly inappropriate for a trek through the woods, you know it’s Reid without looking back. Sheila is your sole focus, a frantic dark blob and shock of blonde hair just ahead through the trees. Her sole focus is getting the fuck out of the woods.

So she doesn’t see the break in the trees. She doesn’t see brush turn to tarmac, doesn’t feel it under her feet. She doesn’t see the approaching headlights at all.

You do, you see everything.

Reid’s hand shoots out to catch the back of your vest, rocks at your feet skitter out onto the road as he stops you in your tracks. And it all plays out, right in front of you, like a sick movie.

Even over the rain, over the thunder, over the rumble of the engine and the squealing of the brakes - the crunch of Sheila’s body against the hood of the car is loud. It echoes, reverberating as her body bounces off of it and lands ten feet further down the road. The driver is already out of their car, screaming, but it’s all background noise. You leave them to Reid, who’s already radioing for an ambulance. Because she’s not dead just yet, she’s a fighter. Her mother told you that only this morning.

Her breath is shallow, quick, and you already know that any help will come too late. The last human touch she knows shouldn’t be a violent one, it can’t be. Your feet are already carrying you to the crumpled heap of her in the road. The ground is cold when you hit it, rain soaking through your jeans. But it doesn’t matter.

“It’s okay,” You’re mumbling as you pull Sheila’s torso into your lap, her head resting in the crook of your elbow, “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

She shakes in your arms, blood stains the sleeve of your shirt where she grips it with broken fingers. Green eyes wide, bloodshot, terrified. You can only hold her closer. Shushing her, rocking her like a child. Her mouth opens and she croaks, you think she’s trying to say something to you - but she chokes on blood before she can get a word out, bubbling up and leaking from the corners of her lips. It spatters onto your vest, your face. It doesn’t matter.

“Mom.”

It’s the only sound Sheila can muster, garbled by the blood in her throat. God, she must be in so much pain.

“I’ll tell her.”

There’s a flicker in the green of her eyes, somewhere under the agony, you think she might be grateful. And then she’s done. Another twitch, another gasping breath against your vest. Sheila Jenkins dies in your arms. In a storm, on a backroad in rural Oregon, after escaping a serial killer. You’re blinded by the emergency lights that round the corner ahead of you, refracted in the rain, too fucking late.

A shadow falls across your face, illuminated from behind by red and blue light. Reid.

His hands are careful, almost nervous, as they hover over your shoulders before finally settling themselves solidly on the straps of your vest. He says nothing, only watches you for a moment. Watches you finally let a tear fall. Watches it mix with the rain on your cheek. He’s even more careful still when the paramedics approach, hands sliding down your arms to pry your grip from Sheila’s body to let them take her. It’s only now you can look him in the eye. His are sad, but steady.

“They’re not all like this.” Reid says quietly. He pulls a clean tissue out of his pocket, the rain soaking it almost instantly, but he dabs at the blood on your face with it.

“Sometimes we win.” He presses on when you say nothing, shifting slightly to allow you to see the rest of the team arriving on scene. The Unsub is in the backseat of Hotch and Morgan’s SUV, cuffed and on his way to justice. But your eyes slide back to the ambulance, to Sheila Jenkins getting zipped into a body bag.

“We do?” You know you look pathetic. Soaked to the bone in the middle of the road, covered in blood, looking at him like he’s the oracle. You can barely see for the rain in your eyes anyway, best not to know how pitifully he’s watching you.

Spencer doesn’t answer, but there’s such a certainty in his face that you’re inclined to believe him. Something tells you it won’t be the last time you treat this man’s word as gospel.

lou finish a wip on time and don’t make it sad challenge: impossible edition🫡

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | wolfstar x reader

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 4.3K Warnings: none Prompt: You meet Sirius and Regulus at a family vacation in the Caribbean, but things don't go as planned and you end up losing contact once the trip is over. Years later your family moves to England and you get accepted at Hogwarts where you finally meet Sirius once again, along with all of his friends. One of them with a mysterious secret, that you'll uncover as you embark on your own Hogwarts adventure.

Chapter 1: Summer Breeze 

2 years ago - Summer 1974 

Every summer holiday, your parents would take you on some elaborate vacation to a different place. This summer was no different from that, except that they’d contacted some of their old friends in England to plan a trip together. Your father was set on making you more fluent in English and had the brilliant idea to force you onto making some English friends. 

While you weren’t too excited about spending your summer with a pure-blood family, since your mom had not-wizarding grandparents, you decided you were not going to be a snob and actually try to make some friends. Your parents never told you that the Blacks didn’t know about your mom’s ancestry though, especially after your great-grandmother made a huge effort to hide that side of the family when the racist stuff started getting worse. It wasn’t a secret to you, only to the rest of the world. 

“Are you ready sweetheart?” Your mom asked, looking stunning in her white beach dress. 

You closed your suitcase and nodded, walking towards her and your dad in the centre of your living room. You stood in a circle and in the blink of an eye apparated in a completely different place. You were in the middle of a giant Lobby, looking straight toward the front desk. It was an open space, there were fountains in the centre and large logs of wood holding a stunning ceiling with floating balls of some wood-like fibre, you could hear the waves crashing onto the shore somewhere in the distance. It looked elegant yet rustic at the same time. On the side of the Lobby, a metal plate spelled 

Mayan Occultum Hotel  The #1 Hotel for Witches and Wizards in the Caribbean:  Costa Maya 

Followed by 5 shining golden stars that spun  around every couple of seconds. Your father had his head up and looked around to try and find his old friends. 

Sirius had been dragged to this. While to anyone a vacation in the Caribbean might sound like a dream, to him it was no other than an absolute nightmare, not because he disliked the beach, in fact, he quite fancied the idea of spending some time relaxing under the sun after the finals, the issue here was that he wasn’t going with his friends, no James, No Mooney, no Wormtail. No, he was on a FAMILY vacation, which meant he’d have to spend like 2 weeks locked up in a hotel in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of people that hated him. He threw in as many muggle-like clothing items he’d gotten from Andromeda into his suitcase, just to spite his parents and hopefully keep the other wizard family, the one that had the brilliant idea to invite his family to the hotel to come along with them, at bay. He was not interested in making new friends, he was not interested in talking to any that were of his parents at all. After all, they probably would be no other than a bunch of Slytherin snobs. 

By the time his mother called him down to the chimney to travel through the floo network, he’d even made sure to add in a pair of Doc Martens to his suitcase, the most punk thing he had gotten his hands on thus far, all thanks to Moony who’d showed him how to order things from a catalogue. He was wearing a leather jacket, ripped black jeans and a pair of Converse shoes, not a very beachy outfit, was it? 

When his mom saw him she almost ordered him to go back upstairs to change but Orion said they were late and basically pushed Sirius onto the chimney. He was the first to arrive, Regulus was next, with a very suitable wizard attire, his parents had come soon after. 

Once your dad spotted Orion among the crowds he went straight to greet him, your mom followed alongside him and you lagged behind just a bit. 

“It’s wonderful to see you again, Orion, you look as dashing as the last time we met,” your father said. 

Orion chuckled lightly “I could say the same about you Silas! This must be Avis,” he said as he turned into your mother “I remember as if it was yesterday when you wrote me that you’d found the love of your life.” 

Now it was your father who chucked “Walburga,” He nodded towards her, she set her hand out and he gave a courteous kiss. Had they forgotten to tell you were meeting royalty or something? Your parents were rarely this formal with his friends.

Regardless of the odd formalities, you stayed behind them as they caught up, “These are my children,” Orion said pushing forwards two boys, one dressed as a wizard and one with very muggle-like clothes, “This is Sirius,” He pointed at the taller boy, “and this is Regulus,” he said pointing at the smaller one. 

Up until then Sirius had maintained a disagreeable face but had been polite enough to your parents so as not to seem like an ass, at least they weren’t overly dressed, they looked like a normal family on vacation, not like they were going to the queen’s wedding at the beach. But his expression changed when your mom moved to the side and he saw you for the first time. 

“This is my daughter, (Y/N),” Your father said, placing a hand on your back and pushing you just slightly forward. 

“You’ve got yourself a beautiful young lady, Silas, why have you been hiding her behind you?” 

“Our (Y/N) is a bit shy,” Your mom excused. 

“Just like our son,” Walburga said as she placed a hand on Regulus’ shoulder, with a huge suspicious smile growing on her face. You would’ve taken a step back had it not been for your father’s hand still on your back, Sirius noticed. He’d straightened his back right after you appeared in his field of view, he almost felt self-conscious, of his outfit (probably because of how hot it was), of his hair, he hated feeling that way, but there was something about you, he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Curiosity, it had to be that. He was curious about you. 

You responded with an awkward smile, by then your father was already pulling Orion toward the front desk to check in. 

“So (Y/N), What year are you in?” Walburga asked, you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful she was, in a dangerous sort of way, sharp features, a smile that even if it looked kind, hid something behind it. Like a mermaid luring you in before she drowns you, you thought. 

“I’m starting my 4th,” You replied politely, trying to hide how intimidated you felt while talking to her. 

“Oh,” she said, sounding almost a little disappointed “Like Sirius.” Had she said her child’s name with disdain or was it just your imagination? Perhaps it had something to do with the way the boy dressed. 

“I’m sure they’ll become great friends,” your mom said looking at you, then at Sirius and then back at you. 

Walburga nodded but did not look very happy with the idea of you making friends with her older son. Regardless, you’d been interested in talking to the boy the moment you spotted him from the distance, he looked like the vocalist of a rock band. If it had not been for the fact that your parents introduced you to him, you might have lived on assuming he was some sort of celebrity. 

In the midst of the awkward silence your father and Orion came back. Your father smiled towards you, almost apologetically “Sweetheart there is an event for couples on the other side of the hotel, Orion and I thought it would be good to spend some time there to catch up, would you mind exploring the rest of the hotel with the boys?” 

Well, there goes your family vacation, makes sense after all, your father had been looking for an excuse to move back to England for a while, maybe he’d talk to Orion about the ministry jobs available, Orion did have the politician look going for him. You forced a smile “Not at all Dad, it’ll be fantastic to get to know them,” you hoped that did not come out as ironic as you meant it. Although Sirius' snicker from behind gave you the impression it was not like that. 

Your dad handed you and the boys a map each “We’ve enhanced them, that way we can always find you.” 

Your smile only tightened but you kept it until they were out of sight. Once you made sure they were far enough you pulled your wand out and murmured “incendio,” causing your map to slowly burn itself, you let it drop once the fire was too close to your hand. 

“Did you just use magic? Aren’t you 14?” Regulus asked with a frown. 

You turned to him with a smile “There are many qualified wizards around us,” you responded opening your arms to gesture at the amount of people surrounding you “Besides, this hotel is part of the Occultum line, anyone that has studied at least until year 2 is permitted to use magic–” After hearing this words Sirius used incendio to burn his map as well, you raised your eyebrows towards him and then continued “–that’s why my parents picked it, they wanted me to spend some time practising spells for the next year.” 

Regulus only settled his map on a nearby suitcase that was soon sent flying away, presumably towards its own room, proving how unnecessary the magic you’d both used had been “I heard there was an orchestra at noon, maybe we can go there?” He suggested. 

“Sure, I guess…” You said before grabbing a pamphlet that mentioned all the activities the hotel had going on that day, but one seemed a tad more interesting “What about his one tho?” You said pointing at something written on the paper. 

“A muggle movie screening?” Regulus asked with a grimace, Sirius, on the other hand, seemed a lot more interested in it. 

“Let’s do that! Sounds fun!” Sirius decided, took the pamphlet from your hands in an action that would’ve been rude had he not done it with such grace, and started walking towards the direction the pamphlet indicated. 

“Not sure Mom and Dad would like that,” Regulus argued as the two of you followed, lagging behind Sirius only slightly. 

“Of course, they wouldn’t,” You agreed with him, but caught up with Sirius soon after “Regardless, dear Reg, is not like they’re going to know, we all got rid of our maps.” 

His frown didn’t leave his face even after he caught up with you, walking by your side, instead of his brother’s. Weird, you thought. 

“And don’t even think about telling dear mommy and daddy about it Reggie!” Sirius warned. 

Regulus didn’t fancy how quick you’d gotten comfortable with giving him a nickname, regardless he decided to go with it, it was probably better to stick to Sirius to make sure he didn’t cause some mischief that would have the three of you grounded for the rest of the summer, or your lives, whichever came first. 

The three of you arrived at the “cinema” area quickly enough. “Well, even if the movie is bad, the experience will be authentic.” 

“You’ve been to a cinema?” Asked Sirius impressed. 

“Last summer while I was in New York,” you explained, “very similar to this one, ‘bit more run down.” 

“And your parents allowed you?” Asked Regulus, almost judging. 

“Perhaps they would’ve If they’d known,” you replied with a mischievous smile. 

The three of you walked to the stall and asked the lady attending to give you 1 large bowl of popcorn and three butter beers. The lady grabbed a large bucket and threw some kernels inside it, followed by a block of butter and a sprinkle of salt, she then murmured “calidium.” Hot air started coming from her wand, heating the kernels and having them pop in front of your eyes. 

You leaned in closer to Regulus and whispered “They didn’t have that in the cinema I went to.” 

The lady continued with her task and started serving the butter beers when Sirius decided to speak up. 

“What’s the sorting hat popcorn?” 

“You spin the thing, and a block of candy will come out, we add that to the corn before popping and when it does, it becomes sweetened popcorn with the colour of your house, it’s inspired by the Hogwarts sorting hat,” She explained. 

He nudged you, “You should try it, see which house you’d be in if you studied with us,” He said with a smile. 

“That’s ridiculous, random candy cannot be as wise as the sorting hat,” Regulus complained. 

You shrugged “Seems like a fun deal,” You said, walking towards the fun-looking machine and spinning the wheel. A dark block of candy came out and you handed it to the lady. After she performed the same spell as last time, minus the salt, the popcorn started to pop, turning into different shades of grey, gold, green and silver. You turned to the boys “Which house is that?” 

“Seems like you’re in between,” the lady replied. “The popcorn is not as accurate as the sorting hat I’m afraid.” 

“In between what?” 

“Slytherin–“ started Regulus. 

“–And Gryffindor.“ finished Sirius, the air seemed to tense up in that minute and you just had to do something, so you threw your fist inside the bucket and grabbed a couple of them, popping them in your mouth. 

“Who cares? I highly doubt I’ll ever be in Hogwarts anyway,” You said as you grabbed one of the buckets and your mug of butter beer. “Can I also have some of those?” You said pointing toward the every flavour beans, the lady nodded and handed you a box. 

“The movie starts in 15 minutes,” said Regulus after looking at the time in the giant magical clock. 

“Excuse me, what’s a magic projection?” You asked the clerk near the door. 

“It’s the movie, but with special magical effects, like things that come out of the screen and several other effects, it’s immersive,” he explained and you nodded, definitely not like the muggle cinema you’d been to before. 

“I didn’t know such a thing existed.” 

“It’s a program in development, a very talented new-maj called Drey started bewitching films just 2 years ago, they became very popular in the industry, and this is one of her newest projects.” 

Before Regulus could open his mouth Sirius spoke “That sounds fantastic! Can we walk in already?” He asked with the most charming smile you had ever seen and after the clerk nodded he dragged you both inside. 

“I’m still not fascinated by this idea,” Regulus complained. 

“Don’t be such a party popper Reg,” You said, throwing a popcorn at him. He brushed it off his coat and started looking at the ads on the screen. 

You then threw one in the air and caught it with your mouth, it’s something you’d seen muggles do in the theatre you had been to last year. 

“Shoot one,” Sirius said, you shot a popcorn and he’d easily caught it, he then winked and motioned for you to send another one. You did, but the third time you grabbed an every flavour bean instead, he also caught it and bit on it with ease, grimacing right after. 

“Treason!” He said after forcing it to go down his throat “I demand her head!” he added while exaggerating his expressions in a very Alice in WonderLand Queen of Hearts-like attitude, then he relaxed again “That was awful, and no warning either!” You just laughed in return, “no wonder the popcorn wanted you in Slytherin” he said, Regulus rolled his eyes. 

“What flavour was it anyway?” You asked, to drive the conversation away from the house topic, which clearly was a sensible one. 

“Your mom’s,” he replied. After understanding the implication of his answer you gasped and playfully hit him on the arm “Sorry, sorry, It was something like sewer water or something, one of the worst I’ve had in my life.” 

Regulus looked at the box and then at you “You want one too?” You asked politely, while there seemed to be some kind of tension between the two boys, neither of them seemed particularly evil, or mean, if anything Regulus was rather shy compared to his loud brother, almost like he did not want to get on the bad side of his parents, something Sirius didn’t really seem to care much about. He quietly nodded to respond to your question and you shot one towards his face, it unfortunately didn’t land on his mouth and fell to the side. He was about to call it off but you didn’t let him. “It’s ok if you don’t get it the worst I’ve had in my life.” 

“Peaches,” he replied with a smile. 

“Unfair,” Sirus said as he crossed his arms and took the box from you “It’s your turn.” 

“I’m terrible at catching with my mouth,” you warned, but he threw one at your face anyway. It landed on your eye, thankfully you closed it first. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” He said, grabbing your face with his two hands to check if you were ok. Did he not know about personal space? “You OK?” He was so close you could smell his breath, it was minty and fresh, despite having had popcorn already. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” you said, shaking him off and picking the jelly bean from your shirt, where it’d fallen after attacking you “Got fast reflexes,” you said before popping it in your mouth, you grimaced. 

“What was it?” Regulus asked. 

“Lime I think, it was very sour,” you said, turning towards him “Guess you’re the lucky one between the three of us.” Regulus smiled awkwardly as a reply and then the screen turned on. 

A lady showed up on the screen “Welcome, witches and wizards, this is the newest rendition of the magical cinema series. Welcome to this incredible adventure in which you will face a terrible creature, the dangers of the sea and the world as told from a muggle perspective. There will be a lot of water, hope you brought your bathing suits.” She disappeared shortly after and then the titles started rolling in. 

It was actually a beach movie, funny when you remembered that the beach was just a minute's walk away from where you stood. And it was definitely NOT like an ordinary muggle film, there were splashes of water in your face, things crawling on your seat, smoke, smell and even the shark would get out of the screen and swim all over the room. It was thrilling, to say the least. 

When the move was over the three of you were soaked, the boys had their fluffy hair clinging onto their faces as you walked out of the theatre. But they also looked happy, Sirius was thrilled, unsurprisingly, but even Reg seemed at ease, even if he had gone to a “muggle thing”. 

“We should go see the beach now,” Sirius said. 

“Just hope Larry Vaughn is not the mayor here,” you responded and cracked a laugh from the two brothers. 

The three of you then walked towards the beach area, there were lounge chairs with umbrellas on top, some beach beds and a stand where you could ask the house elves to bring you different special drinks. As you were sitting down in one of the chairs you overheard some wizards passing by. And you couldn’t help but to be enthralled by their conversation. Regulus was sitting by the end of the bed, looking wearily at the sea and Sirius was taking off his jacket and laying it on the back of the bed for it to dry with the wind, he was rocking a David Bowie shirt underneath. “Hey (Y/N) do you want anything from the–“ 

“–Shhhh,” you said as you gestured for him to listen to the conversation as well. 

“Yeah, the ziplines were amazing, it’s fantastic the hotel counts with muggle transportation all the way to the parks,” one of the wizards said. 

“Do you think we should go again,” asked the other one. 

“No, Mom said we’d go to the ruins tomorrow, something about magical vestiges or whatever.” 

That’s when you stood up “Hey!” You said with a smile “Sorry, we kinda overheard you talking about the… what did you call them? Zip lines? We were wondering what park you were referring to.” You really could be charming when you wanted to. 

“It’s Xplore,” one of the boys replied. 

The other grabbed his backpack and handed you a brochure “I took this one from the park, maybe it helps,” he said with a bright smile as well. 

“Thank you, you’re a darling,” you said before going back to your beach bed, sitting on the side, next to Sirius, Reg was still sitting on the end of the bed, but he clearly did not like where the conversation was going. 

“You even got them to give you a brochure?” Sirius mused. 

You shrugged and set it on the centre of the bed, opening it up just to realise it was in Spanish. 

“Reg speaks some Italian,” Sirius said motioning towards his brother. 

“I’m not translating any muggle propaganda.” 

“It’s NOT propaganda,” you argued, “regardless I came prepared,” you said as you took out your wand, waved it and whispered “tradussere.” The letters of the page started changing and soon enough it was all in English. 

“I thought you needed to speak the language to be able to do that,” Reg said. 

“You do, and I can only manage to make it last a couple of minutes, so we better hurry,” you replied. 

XPLORE  Jungle adventure park with zip lines, amphibious vehicles, whitewater rafting and underground rivers.  Prices start at $1500 MXN  Experience a true adventure on your trip to Mexico by flinging through ZIP lines, swimming on underground sacred rivers and riding amphibious vehicles in the Mayan rainforests. 

On the brochure, there were also photos with people wearing climbing gear and helmets. People swimming in dark but beautiful cabins, it really looked like an adventure-filled experience. 

You and Sirius gave each other a look after reading “WE HAVE TO GO,” you said to each other at the same time. 

“No, we don’t HAVE to do anything,” said Reg “In fact, we CAN’T.” 

“Come on Reggie, it sounds super fun,” you argued, trying to convince him. 

“Mom and Dad would kill us before letting us go,” he reasoned with Sirius “You don’t need to make things worse between you and them.” 

“I do, especially if they act like racist bastards,” Sirius bit back defensively. 

“Sirius,” Reg said with pain in his eyes, clearly he cared about his brother, but Sirius seemed to be too pissed off to even consider that. 

“I…” you thought about it for a second “They don’t have to find out…” 

“What?” Reg asked, turning his face to you. 

“We just have to pick a day that’ll be very busy for them and go then, one with many activities. Besides I’m sure my father and yours are just so eager to catch up that we won’t see them much this summer…” 

“I’m not gonna do it,” Regulus said with conviction “It’s a terrible idea, you shouldn’t do it either,” You were far too excited to notice the fear in Regulus' eyes, had you been more observant, maybe the mess you’d get into later could’ve been avoided. 

“Clam down Reggie, it’ll be in and out, they’ll never find out,” Sirius reasoned, “We need to be perfect in picking the day,” he said turning towards you. 

Regulus denied with his head and pulled a book out of his bag as you and Sirius continued planning your escapade. 

You’d be in charge of the money exchange process since you already had done it before and knew how the entire process worked, Sirius would make fake muggle passports for the two of you, so you could get rid of the parental signs and age requirements they ask for in the park, Regulus, as he’d said before, would stay, but he’d make sure to cover for you in case you parents started looking for the two,  he was still against it, but you had convinced to at least do that for you. 

After days of careful planning, the opportunity finally presented itself, your parents would have a very busy schedule with some magical presentations happening at the hotel and the three of you would have the day to yourselves. 

“So… tomorrow, we have everything?” You asked Sirius. 

He nodded “Fake passports, the money, the bus that’ll take us there.  We’ll depart at 7, the park opens at 11 because it’s a Tuesday, but we’ll be dropped off at the city and from there, we have to take a taxi or something to get to the park.” 

“Perfect.” 

“You know, you can still call it off,” said Regulus, peering from his book, “At least consider it tonight.” 

The two of you turned towards him, every time the subject came up, Regulus would say something similar “It’ll be ok Reg, just promise you’ll cover for us,” you pleaded. 

He took a deep breath but turned his face towards you and nodded unconvinced “Just be very careful, you don’t know how angry our parents can get.” 

You took that as an exaggeration, after all, Sirius had played it as such for the longest time. You couldn’t have been more mistaken. You should’ve listened. But the idea of a day full of adventure next to Sirius was just too intoxicating for you to pay attention to the alarm system activating in your head, after all, the minute you’d met Walburga you’d known something was wrong with her. 

“We’ll be fine, Reg, stop acting like a chicken,” Sirius said, diverting your attention again.

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A/N: Most Poly!Marauders fics are oneshots, where the relationship between characters is already established, and they're all happy and pleased with it. No issues, no drama, but I WANTED the drama. Couldn't find it, so I set myself up to write the story behind the stablished relationship. I wanted to know how they started dating each other, the jealousy, the will they won't they, because getting into a poly relationship can't be an easy task, and I wanted to explore that story. If you're interested: Welcome to Gilded Constellations!

[vhstown]

henna hearts

— pavitr prabhakar x gn!reader

summary: You never realised how long mehndi would take to do. Pavitr's got all the time in the world for you, though.

content/warnings: fluff, slight hurt/comfort, ambiguous relationship, briefly edited, henna/mehndi maybe used interchangeably

word count: 1.1k

a/n: he's not Real guys he's not (mitski starts playing)

“You're tickling me…!”

“Just how am I tickling you?”

Though you held your laugh behind pursed lips, a snort escaped from the boy in front of you — the boy who was so desperately trying to finish your mehndi before it got too dark for you to go home.

“Pavi, seriously, we're not gonna finish if you keep doing that.” You tried to frown, but your face was stuck in the ache of a grin. He probably felt the same.

“I'm just trying to keep your arm straight!”

“It is straight!”

“It won't be when I have to do the other side.” You gave him a dubious look, and he seemed to mirror it.

“You're doing my whole arm?”

“I wanted to, but…”

“But what?”

Pavitr's gave you one of those unreadable smiles which you could never tell were teasing or not, looking at you through the dark tousled curls that shrouded his face. Without much thought, you reached out carefully, brushing away his hair with the very tips of your fingers.

His irises caught the colour of the decorative lights around his room, and the way his expression softened made it seem like he was looking at you with all the tenderness in the world. It was hard to look away, and you felt your heart squeeze with embarrassment as a quiet laugh escaped his lips.

“But what…?” you asked again, hoping your voice didn’t sound weird.

“You’ll probably have to stay if I do.”

“Ah…” You nodded, as if it’d hide your disappointment. “Well, you know I can't, so…”

“I know.” He gently lifted your hand again to straighten it out, the tip of the tube grazing your skin with a coolness as faint as an exhale. As he worked on a flower in the middle of your forearm, you noticed his own hands were stained. Pavitr didn't seem to mind, or mention it at all, so you decided to let him focus.

There was a silence between you two, all except for the muffled clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen, where his aunt was cooking. Well, you called her auntie too; in fact, you'd never gotten so close to anyone as you did Pavitr and Maya Auntie. A part of you hoped it went both ways.

“How'd you learn to do this anyway?” Your question made him lift his head slightly. “Auntie said you’re even better than her at it.”

A quiet chuckle left him, and he finished the flower off with a small circle in the centre. “My cousins at home taught me. They always begged to practice on me anyway.”

“Really?” The image amused you: a bunch of young girls drawing all over a younger and scrawnier Pavitr’s arms ruthlessly with mehndi while he begrudgingly sat still.

“Yep, and then I started doing it for them before Diwali, birthdays… Nothing big, just simple designs.”

You looked down at your arms, decorated beautifully with intricate designs that just somehow connected together. Whenever you thought he was done, he added more flowers and swirls and patterns, and suddenly it felt like the design would be incomplete without it. He was doing it from the top of his head too; if only you could understand how. All you had to do was sit and wait, and take care not to smudge it. Maya Auntie even suggested that you should avoid doing the dishes at home, so the colour would stay longer. Fat chance, you thought, watching how quickly your arm was being embellished.

“And you call this simple?” you muttered, almost shaking your head.

“Anything’s simple when it's for you, right…?”

Suddenly, he winced, but not at you. Pavitr’s hand hesitantly moved away from the part he was just working on, and there was just the tiniest smudge running across one of the petals. Your lips pressed together out of reflex, but you quickly regretted it when you saw the flash of worry across Pavitr’s face. The brightness seemed to leave his eyes; your reaction was the real mistake.

“Wait, I'll fix it,” he said quickly, reaching to wipe it away with the corner of his shirt.

“Hey, no no no.” You moved your hand away, furrowing your brows at him. “Why ruin your shirt?”

“It would wash out,” he replied sheepishly.

“Not for a while.” Shaking your head, you tried to keep yourself calm. Why’d you have to do that? “It's okay, it's just a little smear.”

Pavitr frowned. It was only slightly, but you felt your stomach twist in guilt. All you wanted nothing more than to touch his cheek, reassure him; not without messing up his face, you couldn't. He really wanted to get it perfect.

“You could just get a tissue from the kitchen, or something,” you suggested.

“It’ll dry by then.”

“No it won't, Pavi.”

You tilted your head down at him, trying to get him to meet your eyes. His fingers tightened around your arm, but he wouldn’t look at you.

“I’ll figure it out, okay? It'll still look pretty…”

“Hey, it's fine, it does look pretty—” The words caught in your throat as he reached up with his free hand, his fingertips brushing your face.

“…What is it?” you managed to mumble out, surprised by his sudden touch. His palm moved to cup your face, hand warm. When he opened his mouth, his voice was just warm.

“Could you stay? Just a little longer — it'll be worth it, I promise.”

There were a lot of things you wanted to say to Pavitr, as he waited for your response, but “no” wasn't one of them.

“Okay.” You tried smiling, feeling his palm against the soft of your cheek. “I'll trust you. Just don't tickle me."

There was a slight light-heartedness to your words, and he mirrored your smile. His was always slightly boyish and a little crooked, but somehow managed to hold the entire world in it.

“Thank you, chellam,” he murmured, touch lingering for just a moment before he dropped his hand. You’d never heard him call you that before.

“…What did you just say?”

“Beta!”

Auntie's voice rang out from the kitchen before he could answer, and you caught the playful glint return to his eyes as he turned to shout back.

“I'm almost done!” You raised an eyebrow at him as he turned to look at you again. “Huh?”

“Chellam?” you repeated, noticing the way his eyes, and his smile, widened when you said it.

“En chellam,” he replied, giving your cheek a soft pinch. You couldn’t hold back your snicker this time.

With your heartbeat in your ears, and flirting now in the equation, you knew Pavitr was far from “almost done” with your menhdi. He still had the rest of your arm to do, and a little mistake to fix, but it was okay, you thought. He’d figure it out — for you.

🪀🔭🕸️

@phoenixinthefiles @qiupachups

hey 😊 i don't have anything to say ok bye

oh wait nevermind i do "en chellam" means like... "my darling" in tamil i believe but is not necessarily romantic it's just a casual term of endearment (correct me if im wrong im a coconut)

find my atsv masterlist here !!!