#he would be like “How the fawk you know who that is??”

[nenayaquisieras]

Simon has always been confused on why you gift him toys. Sure, most of the gifts you gave him were some of the things he liked. Bourbon, masks, gloves, make up for him to smudge his eyes with, some daggers and knives. Things that we're useful for him, just him. But later, you gifted him a toy airplane. He makes a comment about it, saying he is not a child anymore and you were better off giving it to Johnny instead.

"No, this is specifically for you, take it."

When he gets to him room, he walks toward his trash can, opening it with the tip of his boot. He gives one more look at the toy, his mood souring before throwing it into the trash. He goes on about his day, training, signing paper work, drills. Doing anything to ignore the pain stinging memories that the toy brought back. Emotions that were buried thousands of feet deep it could reach hell itself. Later, he lies awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, avoiding looking at the cylinder shape that's calling for him in his peripheral.

Fuck.

He pulls the covers off vigorously and stomps over to the trash can. He is standing over it like he's trying to intimidate it, as if it was an enemy he's trying to get rid of in battle. To anyone else, the scene would look comical.

He sighs to himself and reaches down to take out the toy he so cruelly threw away. He sets it on his desk and quickly walks toward his bed, facing away from his desk.

The next day, he wakes up feeling different. He swears he sees his room more vibrant, more lively. That energy follows him through out the day, having his other teammates notice his rather bright mood.

You catch him in the hallway. Pulling him aside to ask him about the paper work you left at his desk this morning. Of course, he notices the way you smile brightly, more so than usual. But he notices that you're not looking at him. More like looking at something next to him.

"What's got you so cheery?"

You turn to look up at him, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"I just..." You take a quick glance at the spot next to him, before bringing your eyes back upon his.

"I just hope you liked your gift." The same bright smile appearing on your face.

He stares at you, examining your words. Your expression.

You think you see his eyes crinkle a bit.

"Yea,"

"I liked it."

[alphabetboyluvr]

once the thrill expires | jjk

title credit: cardigan - taylor swift

pairing: college!jungkook x female reader

synopsis:

your housemate-turned-fwb takes another girl home after a night out

warnings: angsty, smutty turmoil. it's not that bad, but it definitely isn't a happy lil number. fingering, oral sex (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), vaginal sex, doggy, protected (!!) sex, lil spanks, jaykay sorta makes out with her ear???, jaykay is a fawk boy who needs to learn self-control, oc is holding out for something that'll never happen, multiple partners in one night (jk), jk calls the reader diz (dizzy)

wordcount: 5.8K

note from holly: virgo boy trauma for you in the form of a jk one shot lmao. it's rare you get virgo boy shit laid this bare but he he i love oversharing on the internet! there's an old paragraph from yet another virgo boy fic hidden in here, too so if you think it looks familiar, that'll be why!!

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

The knock on your en-suite bathroom door comes as a surprise. 

The subsequent twist of the lock mechanism from a coin wedged in the bolt on the other side does not. 

There’s only one person it would be.

And so you don’t yell. Don’t tell him to go away, even if you do hug your legs into your chest a little tighter. 

Sitting on the floor of your shower, dignity is preserved - but with skin as red as the flags that Jungkook freely hands you, and mascara staining your cheeks from the onslaught of piping hot water showering down on you, how dignified can you really be?

No words are spoken as the steam billows from the room, Jungkook not caring to shut the door behind himself. He takes a perch on the closed lid of the toilet, elbows to his knees, tattooed hands clasped beneath his chin. Refuses to look anywhere other than you.

There’s perplexion to his taut jaw - a frown embedded in his brows - but more than anything, there’s an overwhelming sense of confusion in his soft eyes. You’re unaware of the way he’s mirroring your expression back at you; how defeated you look, wet hair sticking to the side of your face, an emptiness in your gaze that is pale in comparison to the void in your chest.

With nothing but the pitter-patter of your shower to fill the space, you’re thankful that he can’t hear the way your heart is beating, or how you’re sniffing back the tears you were freely crying before he arrived.

“Jem messaged me,” he eventually says, quiet beneath the sound of the water. Leaning back, he wipes a palm over his face, then pushes it back into his dishevelled hair. Lets his hand fall between his legs, then shrugs as he looks at you as if to say, 'Don’t look at me like that' or 'It’s not my fault.'

And realistically, you know that it isn’t. Whatever he’s done is within the parameters of what was agreed upon. The way you feel - like Jungkook has stolen the moon and stopped the tides from turning - is not.

It’s not like either of you had ever expected to let things get this far, and definitely not for this long.

What had started as quiet kisses in the corners of clubs when your friends weren’t looking, had catapulted into drunken hook-ups after those aforementioned nights out. 

He’d call you Dizzy, ‘cause he was convinced you looked at him like you’d been spinning in circles, all awe-struck and smiley. Pretty. Like a giggle was on the tip of your tongue at all times.

Was easy, back then. Convenient. He was newly single. Not looking for anything. 

You’d been quietly harbouring an illicit crush on him from the day you moved into your shared university accommodation. Had been waiting for the stars to align - and once they had, you were certain that soulmates had to exist.

It’s the only way you can explain the small earthquake that happened half the world away at the very time you first met, the tectonic plates shifting to make sure you were perfectly presented to one another. 

You didn’t feel the tremors - would have been impossible - but your heart certainly felt something. Adrenaline? Limerence? You’re not sure.

Whatever it was only became more and more prevalent with every tipsy hold of his hand on the way to clubs, or moments stolen in secrecy in the house you now share with six of your friends. 

Now in your final year of university, if you spent as much time studying, as you do fretting over Jungkook - what he’s up to, who he’s with - maybe you’d get a first-class degree.

You’re on track for a 2:1.

He’s on track for a first, though. 

You choose to believe it’s because he’s naturally more academically inclined (as if you didn’t write an entire paper for him last semester), and not because he spends significantly less time thinking about you.

There’s no need for endless thoughts, though. 

The arrangement is simple: You’re friends. 

Best friends. Spend all your time together. Are plus ones to events. Fill the void that a partner should fill; at the winter balls, cinema screenings you don't want to see alone, and in the hushed privacy of midnight intimacy. He gets you off when you need it, and you him. 

Kisses are never shared between lips - apart from that one summer when he accidentally said he was in love with you, then took it back a week later under the guise of not wanting to ‘ruin’ the friendship. 

You don’t speak about that summer.

Hook-ups are in your room, always, ‘cause you’ve only got Jem in the room next door. Jungkook’s room is up on the middle floor, surrounded by all the boys. They’d realise what’s going on far too quickly.

It’s simple - yet excruciatingly complicated when there’s a lack of commitment, and Jungkook looks at you in the way that he does. 

His lips are a little deeper than their usual pink this evening, but you put it down to alcohol. 

Denial is a wonderful thing, and delusion even greater.

Still, he leans forward to push the shower door open. Leans further still, then knocks the tap off. Lets the water trickle down the drain, the hum of the pipes murmuring like your unspoken grievances. 

Rivulets of water chase down your skin. Jungkook watches one race from your knee to your ankle, running straight over the bruises from messy nights out and the small cut at the bottom of your calf from the fountain you’d both traipsed through when you were a little too merry a few nights prior. 

He’d given you a piggyback the entire way home, blood staining the white of his shirt; the very essence of you embedded now in the fabric of him. 

He’d patched you up after you got home. Showered with you, right here, then carried you the measly five or six steps to your bed. Had told you that you’d definitely get sepsis and die. Kissed it better, then decided he didn’t know any better, and trailed his lips up your leg. Took pity on your impending death and gave you a little, lovely death just to soften the blow. 

Funny, how you think sepsis would be preferable over whatever the fuck it is that you’re feeling now.

“Jem messaged me,” he repeats. Presses his lips together, the ring in the corner of his mouth glistening under the white lights of the bathroom.  “Said I should check on you. Been in the shower for an hour, apparently.”

Well, you think to yourself, bitterness wrapping around your words like poison ivy. You’ve checked. You can go now.

The words don’t manifest in your throat. Nothing does. Not even the echo of a sob you’ve been holding in since he first stepped foot within your sanctuary.

Instead you’re silent as you get to your feet, not caring for your nakedness. It’s nothing Jungkook hasn’t seen before. Probably knows your body better than his own at this point. Can look at the faded bruise on your chest and know that it was left there by his lips last week. Can pick out which ones of your dainty linework tattoos were there before he met you, and which ones have been acquired since.

It’s a quiet intimacy, the way Jungkook looks at you. There’s no towel in the bathroom - an oversight by your tipsy brain when deciding you needed to wash yourself clean of the man in front of you after arriving home from the club - and Jungkook doesn’t care to offer you one. 

Insanity is the product of looking at your body, he thinks. Can’t remember a time he’s ever seen you like this and hasn’t wanted to be inside you. He’s a simple man in pursuit of simple pleasures, and the way you fit him like a glove is the simplest pleasure of them all. 

“Hm?” He questions your lack of a response. 

His deep black eyes are just like the depths of the ocean floor, and it feels like he’s dragging you right down every single time he looks at you like this. Softly. Tenderly. Sweetly. As if he actually gives a shit.

There’s no room for two in this bathroom. It’s not a space designed to be shared, no matter how many times you’ve both squeezed into the shower under far different circumstances - though now you come to think of it, perhaps they weren’t so dissimilar. 

It was always Jungkook’s pursuit of pleasure that put you in that position, just like it put you there tonight.

“Hey,” he says quietly, as you turn to leave, his grip on your waist pulling you between his legs. You don’t look at him. Just keep your head turned to face out of the room - but you make no attempt to leave. Especially when his nose brushes up against the bottom of your ribs right between your breasts, and he husks, “Why are you being like this?”

The softness of his lips as he presses them against your sternum, long lashes splayed across the top of his cheeks, has you spiralling. Kind of feels like he’s twisting a corkscrew through your heart. You know he’ll rip it right out - but maybe you’ll let him, if it means he’ll kiss the wound better.

“Hmm?” He hums. One of your hands rests on his shoulder, the other in his hair, and that’s how Jungkook knows he’s rectified the damage done for a short while. It’s like putting washi tape over holes punched in the walls - useless, and bound to fall off eventually, but ever so pretty in the meantime. Another washi-tape kiss is pressed to your skin, a little higher this time. “We had a good night, didn’t we?”

The tenderness of his voice rewrites the events of the evening. A good night. 

Not one with tears, and jealousy, and arguments that people who claim to be just friends have no business having. A night shared together, perhaps, with no one else to intrude.

Didn’t we?

You so prefer this false chain of events - the one where he left the bar with you, and held your hand in the cab ride back just like he’d done in the cab ride there.

“Is she still here?”

He’s surprised that you’re mentioning it. Half-expected you to act like it never happened. Like she never happened. Is what you usually do, whenever he goes home with someone that isn’t you. 

Still, he just continues to gently stroke your sides. Doesn’t present you with any sort of weakness.

“No.”

“Did you fuck her?”

There’s a little venom to your tone; the poison ivy around your thoughts sprouting now from your throat. 

Her. Some inconsequential girl that neither of you will likely ever see again. Looked nothing like you, but a hell of a lot like his ex. 

“No, Diz,” he softens the sternness of his tone with a name only he calls you. “I didn’t fuck her.”

You’ve no idea if this is a lie or not. 

It’ll be accepted as truth for an hour. Maybe two. Just enough time for you to convince yourself that you’re the one he wants. That he couldn’t bear to fuck anyone else. That he sent her on her way after a kiss or awkward fumble, because he realised no one else could feel as good as you.

You’ll ignore the fact you know he’s here because Jem messaged him. 

You’ll ignore the fact he thinks you’ve been in the shower for over an hour, and has no actual knowledge of the events of it all. 

You’ll ignore the scratch mark on his back, and in the morning you’ll believe it was you who left there even though your nails are bitten right down.

The lies you’ll tell yourself will be far more grand than the ones Jungkook ever tells you. Nobody can ever hurt you quite like you hurt yourself.

And so, against your better judgement, you let him follow you to your bed. 

There's a clang as he tosses his rings down into the ceramic dish beside your bed. It's white, and speckled in tiny black dots, and matches the one Jungkook has in his own bedroom. Not really a surprise. He was the one who bought it for you. Before then, he used to just tuck his rings beneath your pillows - but he kept losing them, and he found it annoying having to rummage around for them whenever he was trying to make a silent exit so as to not wake you.

You tell yourself that small things like this are Jungkook's way of integrating himself into your life; creating permanence. In reality, it's just something that makes it easier for him to leave.

Leaving is the last thing on your mind right now, though, and it will be until he comes.

It used to be different. He used to stay. You convince yourself each and every time that he’ll do what he used to do before things got so confusing. That he’ll stay, and that things will be okay.

You let him kiss your skin, but he’ll never kiss your lips. Let him lay claim to your body, even though you know he’ll never lay claim to your soul. 

It’s nice to pretend.

Nice, when he lays you down and rids himself of his shirt. Nice, when he presses your legs apart, and looks at you like you’re the first woman he’s ever laid eyes upon. Nice, when he says shit like, “Such a nice cunt,” and “Let me make you feel good.”

So nice, when he strokes up and down your inner thigh, eyes trained on your pussy. 

So, so nice when he slowly drips a little spit between his pursed lips and watches as it trails down your folds. 

So fucking nice, when he spreads you with his index and middle finger, groaning at the sight of you.

See, Jungkook can be nice. Can be honest. Can tell you how much he wants you, and you can believe him without having to do mental gymnastics over it all.

As he sinks his middle finger into you - “Shit. So wet for me, aren’t you?” - Jungkook is on his best behaviour. He’ll make you feel so good that you’ll forget he ever made you feel bad, cause he needs this. Needs you. 

Not in the life-debilitating, earth-shattering, universe-bending way that you need him, but in a way that isn’t too dissimilar. 

You’re his best friend. He loves you in his own, curious way. Would lay his life on the line for you. Just can’t seem to keep his dick in his pants for no other reason than selfish gluttony. 

It’s his fatal flaw, but he just thinks everyone has them. That most people are like this.

Of the seven deadly sins, Jungkook wields them all. Too proud to admit his wrongdoings. Greedy in his need to have everything life can offer, and how he refuses to limit himself to just you. His lust and gluttony go hand in hand - yet whenever any one else with similar predispositions look in your direction, he turns green with envy. Green, until he’s red, wrath taking hold. 

But he’s lazy, too. Far too settled in how easy it is to have his way with you. Why would he try harder when you never make him?

That’s your cardinal sin: desperation. 

It reeks. Spiced vanilla and black cherry. Tarnishes your skin, until Jungkook licks it from you.

And so as his lips press down your legs, wet and wanting, you don’t object. In fact, you don’t really do anything. You just allow it to happen.

Because you are desperate - for him, his approval, his desire. His heart.

You’ll never get it, mind you, for his heart is hollow. 

Saw every example of what he considered to be true love crackle and crumble until it fell apart. Parents divorced. High-school sweetheart cheated. Love, as you know it, doesn’t exist in Jungkook’s understanding of life. 

You never stood a chance. Not really.

The only times his heart is full is when he steals enough adoration from yours, and cosplays it as his own. Shines it back at you, and tricks you into thinking that maybe he did mean it when he mumbled false declarations into your lips.

But that was three summers ago, now, and Jungkook is a creature of habit. Too stuck in his ways to ever change. Comfortable in this chaos with you.

‘Cause while the other girls are fleeting, and fun, and always very nice, they’re never comfortable. Not like you are. 

“I liked your dress tonight,” he whispers, as he pushes a second finger into you. Pumps them gently, palm skywards, coaxing soft little moans from your lips. Curls them just right, just like he always does.

The affection of such a compliment rids you of the haunting way he’d looked at you earlier that evening. 

Up, down. No smile. Turned away to change the song coming through the aux at pre-drinks. Didn’t look at you again until he was passing out shots for everyone to take. Just nodded towards your necklace - the one his hobbyist silversmith mother made you for Christmas - and asked, “You like it?”

The pendant is small. Embossed with the letters DJ - the name his mother collectively calls you whenever you spend the summer together at his place. The hammered edge of the pendant matches the ring that wraps around your thumb. Another one of her creations, gifted to you by him for your birthday.

“Of course I do,” you’d said. Seemed silly for him to ask. You wear it most days. 

“Good,” he’d nodded, then took his shot and pretended as if he wasn't all too aware that your dress would be attracting good-for-nothing men all night.

See, Jungkook knows you like the necklace. Had just been reminding you of it, and the fact it’s his initial on there with the initial only he calls you. Well, him and his mother. Goes with the territory. 

She’s seen you through your formative years. Only ever sees the good parts, because Jungkook orchestrates it that way.

She doesn’t see the moments like these, when he’s crushed your self esteem and tries to fix it in the most idiotic of ways. 

The necklace pools around the base of your throat as your head tips back into the pillows, his thumb coming to toy with your clit, gently pressing down.

“Shush, Diz,” he smiles, so pleased to see your body responding in the way that it always does. “You’ll get us in trouble.”

God forbid the people you live with - who’ve all heard the arguments after his illicit encounters with randomers, and seen his face of thunder whenever you’re getting ready for first dates - ever figure out you’re fucking. Not like it’s obvious in the slightest. Not why Jem texted Jungkook, instead of checking on you herself.

Biting onto your wrist, you try and stifle the impact of his touch - ‘cause if they do hear, it will be your fault. You’ll be the reason everyone knows your dirty little secrets. You’ll be the one who ruins it all. Not him. Just you. 

He doesn’t mean to condition you in such a way. Doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.

Nor do you - but your self esteem is shot to shit. You’re good enough to fuck, but not good enough to love, even if Jungkook insists that there’s no one he adores more. It always comes with an add-on of ‘you’re my best friend’, or ‘you wouldn’t wanna date me anyways’.

Maybe he’s right.

But maybe it would have been nice to try.

Shame.

The pace of Jungkook’s fingers pumping into you begins to slow. Leaking around the base of his knuckles, you’re just as wet as you always are with him. Even when the emotional labour of letting him have his way with you feels like a ten tonne weight on your chest, crushing down on your ribs and spoiling you forevermore, your body still wants him. Only him. Always him.

Withdrawing his fingers, Jungkook taps the outer side of your thigh. “On your front for me, Diz. Face down, ass up.”

With anyone else, Jungkook is far more often on the receiving end. It’s a shame, ‘cause his talents go to waste, it’s just what he’s found to be typical of random hook-ups.

He loves pussy. Loves eating it. Loves that you love it, too.

Slow as he spreads your ass with his hands, Jungkook really doesn’t fuck around with wasting time. He dives in without hesitation, burying his tongue between your folds. Cares not for accuracy, nor carefulness. Just wants his tongue all over you.

Your body lurches forward, hands clutching onto the duvet beneath you. He’s always been like this. Hungry. Just as desperate as you so often feel, but better at hiding it than you are.

His tongue laps against you. Sinks into your soaked hole as deep as he can get it. Uses one of his hands to reach around and toy with your clit while he continues to explore somewhere he knows like the back of his hand.

Pulling back a little, Jungkook’s breathing is heavy. You can hear it. Groan, as he grips your ass again. Spanks it softly, then get back to his previous position. Licks a stripe from your clit up to your leaking cunt, then continues. Flicks up against the tight muscle you rarely let him fuck around with.

But you want him to want you. Want him to have you in whichever capacity he so desires. 

You reach back. Tangle a hand in his hair, and encourage him to massage your tight hole with his tongue, like you know he loves to do. 

It’s kinda cute, in a way. He likes doing it, ‘cause he loves the way it feels whenever your tongue toys with his ass. Assumes other people must love it too. Just wants you to feel good. Wants to right his earlier wrongs.

He continues to trace up and down both your holes, stimulating your entire body in the process. Rubs your clit with his fingers, till you're writhing against the sheets, body pressed flat to the cotton as Jungkook begins to fuck his fingers into your again. 

“You gonna cum for me?” He husks, a smile on his wet lips as he watches the tell-tale sign of an orgasm rush over you. Soon, you’ll be looking at him with dizzy eyes once more, and your namesake will make Jungkook feel things he pretends he can’t feel. “That’s it, Diz. All over my fingers. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”

There’s a relief that comes with your orgasm for Jungkook. Hope that you’ll stop being mardy with him. He doesn’t like it when you don’t like him. These days, he keeps making choices that make it hard for you to like him. 

But you always like him - like him so much - in the comedown of a climax.

He doesn’t give you much time to recover. Wants to coax a second orgasm from you while he still can. Pulls you back into position - face down, ass up - and pushes down his sweats. Cock hard, there’s a small damp patch in his boxers from the precum he’s leaked for you. Lines himself up. 

“Let me fuck you,” he begs before he pushes into you.

“Uh-uh,” you full forward a little, preventing him from doing what he so desperately wants to do. Turning to look over your shoulder, you shake your head. “Condom.”

He furrows his brows. Has the audacity to look fucking offended, as if he didn’t bring another girl back to the house you share.

You’re stupid, and you’re desperate, and you make all the wrong choices, but you aren’t naive. Not really. Your delusions and denial are always elevated away from reality, of which you like to think you have a firm grip on.

And so you simply say, “Don’t believe you didn’t fuck her.”

He doesn’t deny it. Shakes his head, not that you can see it. Just reaches to the shelf above your bed, and gets one from the pot you keep them tucked away in. Rarely ever use them. It’s a novelty, more than not, when you use them. Something to make him last a little longer.

It’s different today.

Today, it’s because you don’t know if his cock is fucking clean or not.

It should crush you, but it doesn’t. 

Just a fact of life. Jungkook fucked someone else less than three hours ago. Came, probably. For someone else. Over someone else. Inside someone else. 

But that desperation of yours is back once more. You want to be the reason why Jungkook loses his mind in temporary bliss. To be better. To be his last memory of the evening.

And so as Jungkook rolls the condom down his thick shaft, you position yourself perfectly for him. Whimper as the tip of his cock kisses your entrance. Whine, as he pushes inside you. 

“That’s it,” he husks, gripping your ass cheeks to spread them nice and wide. Looking down to where your bodies meet, Jungkook is reminded of why he enjoys you so much. No one takes him so well. No one. He knows this. Doesn’t know why the fuck he ever feels the need to seek out anyone else. They’re never as good as this. “Fuck. That’s it, baby.”

Your hips roll back, ass bouncing in that hypnotic way he always swears will ruin him. His grip loosens to let you do the hard work, one of his hands stroking up your spine until it’s resting around the base of your throat. 

Taking back a little control, he keeps your head pushed into the pillows. Grunts. “Take this cock so fuckin’ well, don’t you?”

The mumble you moan into the sheets isn’t enough for him. He always does this. Asserts control and then realises he actually kinda fuckin’ hates it. Fingers still wrapped around the base of your neck, Jungkook pulls you up.

Chest pressed to your back, Jungkook wastes no time locking you in place with an arm around the front of your waist. His cock continues to pump upwards into you, the movements a little subdued but by no means lacking. 

The ridge of his thick head rubs up against your sweet spot. Gets you so fucking needy. Has your hand dipping to your clit to match the pressure.

And when you do? Oh, it’s heaven. You can’t help but whine - so Jungkook uses the hand that isn't on your waist to cover your mouth.

“You only get to cum if you’re quiet,” he tells you. “Be quiet for me, baby.”

But his hips are erratic. The sounds are lewd; skin on skin. It’s wet. Disgusting. Needy. Him, just as much as you. Sweat blossoms on his skin, keeping you both in this clammy haze of hedonism. 

Catching his lips on your ear, Jungkook doesn’t care if he isn’t supposed to let kisses linger so close to your lips. Tongue wet, he intrudes. Licks the shell of your ear. Grazes his teeth on your lobe. Whispers, “You looked so pretty tonight,” then drags his tongue across your ear. 

Cares not for precision nor accuracy, just the fact that this is an area of the body he doesn’t often explore, and that maybe he should do it more often, given how tightly your pussy is clamping around him.

There’s something about it - the obstruction of one of your senses likely to blame, sound distorted whenever his tongue licks against it - that makes you whine. 

You can’t even really do that now. Are too muffled beneath his hand - until he pushes the two fingers that had been inside your pussy earlier into your mouth. 

The taste is just the same as it always is whenever he does shit like this. Loves having you taste yourself. Experiencing what he experiences. Wants you to know exactly why he’s incapable of letting you go.

“Slutty little mouth,” he smirks against your ear. “Gonna finish in it.”

“Mhhm?” you mumble against the fingers you’re keeping wet and warm for him.

“Mhmm,” he replies. Presses a kiss to your temple, ‘cause he isn’t really thinking straight. Groans when your cunt clenches from the touch. “God, you want it, don’t you? Want it so bad. Wanna swallow my cum.”

Of course you do. You’ll take what he’ll give you. 

Your mumble around his fingers isn’t enough. He wants to hear you say it. Frees your mouth of himself. Grips your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Turns you to face further over your shoulder.

He’s just gonna make you say it. Just make you say something lewd to get him a little closer. Just… Just gonna… Just...- Oh, fuck it. Your lips are just there, and they’re wet, and they’re pouty and - God, forgive me - perfect for him.  

His eyes flitter between your eyes and your lips. Is aware you’re doing the same. 

“Kook,” you whisper, as if you’re about to reprimand him.

“Please,” he begs. Thinks he needs this just as much as you do. Maybe even more so.

And so somewhere between the overwhelming acknowledgement that this is a catastrophic chain of events, and the promise of a happy ending (of which you know damn well will never reach fruition), you let him sink his lips into yours.

You’re pretty in war, and even prettier in defeat. 

Jungkook thinks you’re prettiest when you’re all his. 

You think that to be his is to accept an eternal loss. 

The breath of his nose is heavy against your cheek as his lips press into yours, brows furrowed. The need for you to be lewd is abandoned, ‘cause Jungkook doesn’t even think he’ll last long enough for it. Thinks that nothing gets him closer than the flavour of your lips. 

Hips still jerking up, the sound of his skin hitting your ass echoing around the room, Jungkook fucks himself into you until he can do it no longer. Pulls away. Rips off his condom. Tosses it to the floor. Gets you face down again. Wanks himself to the point of coming undone, hot spurts of cum dripping onto your ass and spilling down to the valley of your spine.

He’s the one moaning now, your body defiled by a boy who you wish would paint you in pretty compliments instead. Still, this is a compliment. Kind of. You’re hot enough to make him cum. That’s nice, you suppose.

“Shit,” he chokes out, breathing all out of sync, heartbeat far too rapid. A light spank is tapped against your ass, then softly stroked. He soothes. Aloe on sunburn. Milk with hot sauce. Pretty kisses in the comedown of a rough fuck. 

You won’t get those. Wasn’t a particularly rough fuck, either - and yet it hurts so much when he gets up to leave.

It’s awkward. He doesn’t really say bye. Doesn’t acknowledge the fact he stoked a fire inside you that burned you from the inside out. Ignores the ashes that are scattered around your vessel, as if your soul has been ejected from its home. 

He’s warm, when you look at him. That little part of your heart has been stolen once more. He’s just feeding it back to you.

“Sorry,” he says, a hand on your doorknob. “I shouldn’t- I mean, we shouldn’t-”

“It’s fine,” you offer.

That’s the thing about Jungkook. He’ll give you the world, then realise it was never his to give. Always has to ask for it back. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s fucked you, then acted as if was foolish - only to repeat the same mistakes the next evening.

It’s what he’s always done, and is what he’ll always do.

You’ll never learn. 

The shirt you chuck on to head downstairs the next morning is his. 

Far too big for you, it finishes around your thighs. Television blaring in the room beneath you, it’s obvious your housemates are awake, and even as you’re trudging down the stairs, you’re not quite sure you’re alive.

The headache of an overbearing hangover is threatening your life. You’re certain of it. The fact your housemates have the television set to what must be the maximum volume? Only further sending you to an early grave. 

And yet when you see Jungkook sitting by the breakfast bar, hair in all different directions, a bowl of cereal in front of him, and smiling in the direction of whomever else is in the room, you find yourself smiling, too. 

“Morning,” you say pleasantly as you walk into the kitchen, ready to flop your forehead down on Jungkook’s shoulder like you so often do.

Ready, until you notice the look in his eyes when he turns to face you.

Ready, until you glance in the direction of his previous smile.

Ready, until you see the girl who looks a lot like his ex-girlfriend and absolutely nothing like you leaning on the other side of the counter. Mug from your trip to Amsterdam together in her hands, and the shirt you got him for his birthday covering her body, she smiles.

You’re drowning.

“Oh,” you say, not looking at him. Only her. “I didn’t realise we had company.”

“Is she still here?”

“No.”

She’s awkward as she nods. “Sorry, hey. I crashed here last night - hope you don’t mind? It’s just you know what it’s like getting an uber at that time-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod. Smile. Jungkook thinks you look pretty - but of course he does. You look defeated. “Totally.”

“Did you fuck her?

“No, Diz. I didn't fuck her.”

“Jungkook said you were feeling unwell last night?” She tries to make conversation. She needn’t. You feel far more unwell now than you ever did last night - and that’s before you notice the pretty purple bruise forming on her neck. “How are you feeling now?”

Her care is kind. Considerate. Wholly wasted on you because you’re gonna lie, and say that you’re fine, even though it feels as if your lungs have been filled with venom spat by a lover who is incapable of loving.

Still, you don’t look at Jungkook. Just make your excuses. Leave.

And even though he knows that he should, Jungkook doesn’t chase after you. 

He lets you go, because he knows you’ll always come back. You always do.

But if you don't?

Well, he’ll go back to you, and you’ll let him. Again, you always do.

From the kitchen, Jungkook can hear your showering starting up. Appetite lost, he isn’t listening to the girl in front of him. Isn’t even really sure of her name.

All that he’s sure of is that the fall out of this is not gonna be pretty.

[reveluving]

If requests are still open I have one... Graves is having sex with his wife, and Price is watching them and he touch himself 😈 And his wife notice that Price is there but she can't say it to Graves because he makes her moan so much with his dick buried into her.

Are you TRYING TO KILL ME??? BECAUSE THANK YOU?? FAWK. 💀

Includes: wall s~mut (minors DNI!), soft (& slighly mean)!graves, mentions of nude polaroids, voyeurism & exhibitionism, licking, fingering, unprotected sex (p in v)

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

Being invited for dinner by the Phillip Graves was not on their bingo card.

Not that they didn’t like him, he was a good sport, almost like a brother, as evidenced by the good-humoured banter he has with them, especially with Johnny or Alejandro. But if he didn’t always go “can’t wait to see m’wife after this shit ends” every time they work together, then they would’ve assumed he was a casual hookup kind of guy.

So to be proven wrong when he took a polaroid of you—you hugging Kai, who was sulking at the doorway as it rained—out of his pocket, along with the silicone wedding band around his finger, well, it was safe to say they were pretty surprised. 

The SFW polaroid, of course, not the other ones.

Those were for his eyes only.

The invitees included the 141, then Laswell, along with Alejandro and Rudy, who were in town for work. God bless Graves for being ahead of them with the accommodations, not far from his house.

And as their day offs rolled around, you, on the other hand, got to work.

As usual, you did an amazing job with the food, from the proteins that he’ll help you cook once the party starts, down to the endless amounts of sides to choose from—the kinds that were both filling and bursting with flavour, an instant approval from the Southern blood in him. Somewhat enough to ease your worries about your hard work not being enough.

Meeting you had them wondering how a man like Graves managed to put a ring on a sweetheart like you. But the heart eyes they would catch in his eyes every time you were close by told them everything they needed to know about just how much he cares about you.

Of course, none of you could ever forget Kai, already rushing over to you at the front door when he thought he was going to go for a walk, only to perk up even more at the sight of more people.

More people meant more pets!

But back to the two of you; seeing you work together, balancing, with Graves’ more outgoing personality and you being soft-spoken yet perceptive, especially with his friends’ plates, it was all so… homey. No worries, no strategies, just smiles and laughs and gossip. 

After dinner, just as Graves expected, the team was astounded by your backyard patio—the perks of being married to a florist. The comfortable outdoor sofa and the small yet charming garden arrangement; everything well taken care of, plus the string lights added to the comfortable aesthetic feel, especially by nightfall. 

It took little effort to keep the conversation rolling, in addition to the snacks you had prepared with the beers. 

“I’ll be right back.” You whispered before kissing his cheek hastily, much to his amusement. You took your leave, only to scurry away at the door when he winked at you, uncaring at the thought of his friends catching his displays of affection.

But seeing his girl getting along with his friends so well? Her warm smile? Her cute little attempt to hide her laugh behind her hand? Putting her heart and soul into her cooking and her hospitality in general, despite your bashfulness?

Well, it was only fair to say thank you.

Graves-style.

Not even ten minutes after you entered the house, he stood up.

“I’m gonna check on the missus for a bit,” He waved his hand at them without looking as he headed to the sliding door, “You guys hang ‘round.”

And then, Price felt the need to stand on his feet, but not before scratching behind Kai’s ears one last time before the pooch moved to Gaz for more pets.

Price excused himself, saying he needed to splash his face a bit. He’s not drunk, far from it, but it has been a while since he’s had a relaxing time like this. And like the rest of the crew, he was not willing to miss out on the coziness of your home.

But the surprises never stopped when he heard a squeak, your voice unmistakable, just before he could turn the corner, where the kitchen, then the guest bathroom were. 

He didn’t dare to take a look at first.

“Phil!” He heard you yelp, followed by a drawn-out moan that you were trying to suppress in your husband’s shoulder. 

But fuck, your voice was so tantalizing.

Price held his fist against his mouth with his eyes closed, unsure if he was trying to drown out the sounds or put more focus on it. Then, his ears perked up at the squelching in between the fast-paced pistoning of Graves’ fingers in and out of your pussy.

The captain’s morality began to chip away, going just as insane as his friend when he chuckled evilly in your ear.

“Gettin’ a lil’ shy, pretty girl?” He didn’t make it any easier for you when he licked a large stripe up your throat, “S’alright, they’re just enjoyin’ themselves back there. ‘S just you and me.” 

You were already whining, albeit muffled as you bit your bottom lip as he held you up against the wall. With the way he was slapping your entrance, watching you with a knowing smirk, you knew he wasn’t going to hold back.

And as embarrassing as it was for Price to admit, he was thankful for it. Pumping his cock in his hand, following the same rhythm as the wet slaps of your hips. Your moans were just as hypnotic, short gasps and mewls every time Graves thrust back into you deeply. His tongue licked up the thin perspiration gathering on your exposed skin. 

Price was precise with his peeking, only doing so whenever he heard your muffled voice—when he was certain you were resting your head against his shoulder or even kissing him.

Those pretty lips.

But in the midst of his pleasure, he wasn’t careful enough, cursing under his breath while holding his firm grip on the tip of his cock when he heard you gasp, no doubt catching sight of him when he hid back behind the wall.

And yet, his feet were too heavy to move. Glued in his spot.

Praying to see more of you. Hear more of you.

Literally anything more.

“P–Phil,” Your nails massaged across your husband’s scalp, a silent plea for him to listen.

But you were too cockdrunk to even think about stopping him, let alone attempt to say a single word.

“Hm?” He hummed against the crook of your neck nonchalantly, slowing down his pace, but bottoming out just as deep to hear to whine, “Want me t’stop, baby?”

No. No no no. 

He couldn’t hear you, not with your incoherent babbling, but if you thought he didn’t understand what you were trying to say, oh, you couldn’t be any more wrong.

He wasn’t blind to the lingering looks some of the men gave you, not especially the captain’s. And though he had always known Price as ‘old-fashioned’ with his manners, he’d be stupid enough to think his courteousness with you didn’t mean anything more. 

But who could blame him? You were one in a million.

And when he, too, caught sight of the familiar figure before it hid behind the wall, he knew his suspicions were correct. 

And unless you told him to stop, to use your safeword, he wouldn’t even dream about pulling out. Not until he gets to feel it clench and quiver against him. To see your cum, both yours and his, dripping, even after he’s pulled your panties back up.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart,” He held your chin, a mix between a coo and a sneer. He snapped his hips once again, drawing a sputter out of you, “Do you want me t’stop?”

His smirk grew when your eyes darted sideways, knowing Price was still there, watching you being unravelled and ruined, then humming in delight when you finally answered.

“No.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[obetrolncocktails]

Ignition | Danny Wagner X f!Reader X Jake Kiszka | Part 5

Have you read Part 4?

Warnings: Minors ABSOLUTELY DNI! (18+), SOAKED PANTIES/ UNDERWEAR ALERT, intense sexual tension, unprotected sex, oral f. receiving, teasing, foreplay, fingering, fluff, brief mentions of feelings of inadequacy, graphic descriptions of sex. (YOU AND DANNY FINALLY FAWK).

Word Count: 9,741K

A/N: This might be some of my favorite writing I've done in a while, ESPECIALLY the smut. I tried my best to make this smut seem as realistic as possible to how I think Danny would behave...take that as you will. 😈

Here’s a link to the song mentioned in the fic: Mr. Forgettable—David Kushner

Here’s a link to the Spotify Ignition Playlist: Ignition

“Kenn, I think we might…you know–” you told one of your close friends through facetime.

“Oh?” She asked, taking a sip of her iced latte through the camera. “This is Danny, right? Not Jake?”

“Definitely not Jake,” you insisted. “We haven’t really been talking lately.”

“Oh. What happened?” She asked disappointedly, having been left out of the loop since the last phone call. 

“Well, I finally told him how I felt, and things didn’t really go well. He completely ghosted me for like two weeks until I confronted him at rehearsal, and even now things are really weird. I don’t know,” you shrugged, trying to blow off the hurt that you most definitely still felt. “We haven’t talked,” you shrugged.

“Wait, so you told him you liked him, and he just disappeared?” She asked, slurping loudly through her straw. 

“Yeah,” you said simply, plopping your head down into your covers before lifting it again. 

“Maybe it freaked him out,” Kenn replied. “I don’t know. But that’s weird that he acted like that. Did he tell you if he had feelings or not?”

“He said he didn’t love me like that. He said he’d always be there for me and then literally disappeared off the face of the planet.”

“Damn,” she sighed. “I’m really sorry, Y/n,” She apologized gently. “I really wish I could be there with you. We’d have a sleepover and we’d do the whole ‘eat Ben & Jerry’s and cry’ thing.”

You shrugged, chuckling softly. “Honestly, I think I’m past all that. Danny and I are kind of a thing, now,” you explained. “I don’t know where it’s gonna go, and things are still new, but he’s such a good guy, and he makes me feel–I don’t know,” you blushed. 

“Sexy? Like you’re floating?” She asked, grinning widely. 

“All of the above. And more,” You answered. “Jake will come around eventually, and if he doesn’t, I’ll be sad, but I’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure?” Kenn asked. “You guys are so close, Y/n. I can’t imagine you and Jake just not being a package deal, you know?” 

Her bringing up the obvious made you uncomfortable. She’d asked the questions you’d avoided for weeks. “I miss him, and I’m fucking angry. I never thought he’d act like this, even if he didn’t like me–and now, I just don’t get it.” 

“He hasn’t tried to talk to you? Not at all?” 

You shook your head. “Nope. I yelled at him at rehearsal last week though,” you explained. Kenn snorted. 

“Oh my God. Hell hath no fury like Y/n when she’s pissed off,” She continued. “What did you say?”

“He kept giving me all of these excuses as to why he couldn’t or wouldn’t reach out to me first…that I should have been the first one to reach back out to him knowing I had already put myself out there and got rejected by him. Who does that to their best friend?” 

Kenn shook her head. “A jackass. But like–remember when we were talking, and all the signs were adding up? I swore that he had feelings,” she explained with a confused expression. “Jake wasn’t hard for me to read at all. Every single thing that you told me sounded like he had feelings.” She took another sip of her beverage before shaking the empty cup of ice.  “I had no doubt.”

“Ugh, why are boys so fucking difficult to figure out?!” You groaned, covering your face with your pillow. “Like why did God make me straight? This is sick!”

Kenn chuckled. “All men, I swear, have rocks in their heads.” 

“You’re telling me!” You agreed, your attention moving elsewhere when you felt your phone vibrate as you began receiving a call. It was Danny. 

“Speaking of men, I’ve got a good one calling.”

“I love you, bestie. Keep me updated on Danny. Let me know if I need to kick his ass, too, and I’ll make the trip ASAP.”

“I will, I promise.” 

You hung up with her promptly before switching over the call. 

“Hi,” you said with a smile. 

“Hi gorgeous,” he said through the phone with a delightful tone. “What are you up to?” He asked. 

“Nothing really, just got off the phone with Kenn.” 

“That’s nice, did you guys have a good call?” You nodded, though he couldn’t see you. 

“Yeah, we only get to talk like once or twice a month, so it was nice to catch up.” 

He was quiet for a moment. “Are you in bed yet?” He asked, hope laced into the question. 

“Not even close,” you told him. “Why?” 

“If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone,” he said flirtatiously. 

“I’m sworn to secrecy. Signed by a notary,” you answered playfully. 

“Wow, that’s really official. Truth be told, I have a craving.” 

“A craving?” You asked, grinning. 

“Yup. I figured I’d ask you if you had a craving too, and then, if you would like to possibly fix that craving, maybe perhaps we could carpool to a convenience store…” he said, obviously beating around the bush. 

“Let me see,” you replied. “Oh yeah, you know, I could totally go for a Reese’s right now. I’m fresh out.”

“Oh man, that sucks! But, guess what? I just so happen to have a car!”

“Danny, you know I have a car, too, right?” You chuckled. 

“I had no idea women could drive!” He joked. 

“You deserve to be punched for that,” you told him, raising an eyebrow. 

“Be careful, I like women who are hands on.”

“You’re a loser,” You answered, getting up from the bed, smoothing out your clothes. 

“Your loser, I hope,” he suggested. 

“My loser,” you agreed. 

“I’ll be over in ten then, loser,” he replied quickly, hanging up before you could protest. Soon, you heard his car pull up, his engine purring loudly outside of your window.

“You were just looking for an excuse to see me, weren’t you?” You asked him as you stepped down your front stairs, being careful to not trip over them in the dark. 

“No, of course not! I was just craving some sweet chili Doritos, but was scared to go to the store alone,” he answered, feigning innocence. “Figured I’d call up a buddy.”

“Is that what I am to you, Daniel Wagner?” You asked, ducking down to peer at him through his passenger window. You crossed your arms across your chest. “I’m your buddy?” You lifted your eyebrows skeptically with the question. 

“I have a secret,” he said quietly, pulling his finger upward in a ‘come here’ gesture. 

“What?” You asked. 

“Get in and I'll tell you,” he said with a grin. You eyed him with suspicion, but opened the car door, sinking down into the seat beside him. As soon as you were settled inside, he lifted his hand to tilt your face, leaning his body over the center console to deliver a breathtaking kiss, his fingertips caressing your jaw and the curve of your neck just like before. This kiss was different though, because now, his touch was comfortable and confident. His fingertips knitted into your hair, and yours lifted upward to rest on his shoulder and chest, bunching his shirt in your hands as you deepened the kiss. Adjusting in your seat, you turned your body to him, moving as best you could in such a small space. “Why’d you have to kiss me like that in this tiny fucking car?” You asked breathlessly. 

“Because I like the challenge,” Danny said, licking his lips as he sat back in his seat, his chest heaving. “Plus I’m a glutton for punishment. Oh and I lied about what I was craving,” he added, looking over at you, a glimmer in his eye. 

“Oh?” You answered simply. 

“Yeah. You just fixed it.” At that, your cheeks flamed embarrassingly pink, your skin heating up to the point of almost being feverish.  

“Where did you learn to be so fucking smooth?” You chuckled. He grinned like he had just won something. 

“I’ve got quick wit, Y/n,” he said cleverly. “Also I had to put a lot of practice into impressing you,” he said, flashing his white teeth in a broad smile. 

“You’re such a dork ,” you grinned widely, still feeling the pressure of his lips against yours. Really, you wanted him to go even further, testing your boundaries. 

“Stay over tonight,” you said, laying your head back against the headrest, turning to look at him. “Stay with me,” you told him again, relaxing your expression into one of seriousness. “Please,” you added, placing your opened palm on the center console, waiting for his answer. 

“How’d you feel coming over to my place?” He asked you. “Since we’re still parked in your driveway,” he grinned, looking outside and then back at you. “No pressure, of course.”

“I think I’d like that,” You agreed. “Still up for snacks?” You asked him.

“Nah, not really. It was all a ploy to get you here with me,” he grinned. 

“You know you could have just asked to hang out like a normal person.” You told him with an enthused expression. 

“What would be the fun in that, though? I like to keep you on your toes.” 

You rolled your eyes and reached for the door handle. “Give me five minutes to grab some things,” you told him. The smile that you got in return from him filled you with eagerness and excitement. You practically skipped up the stairs inside your house to pack an overnight bag, a smile embedded in your expression the entire time. 

***

It’s interesting how ceiling fans always become one of the most cliché details in sad, miserable stories,  Jake thought, repetitively tossing one of Danny’s GVF golf balls in the air. He had spent most of the evening lying in place, still dressed in the clothes he wore earlier that day. As he lay, his mind wandered to the image of you and Danny kissing at your house. Once he let himself reimagine it, he’d inserted himself into your arms, imagining if it was him kissing you, him laughing with you, and him sharing his feelings with you. He’d fucked it all up so severely that it was too late to go back now. If he wanted you, he’d have to make a mess, and though Jake hadn’t been one to start drama, losing you wasn’t something he was willing to do. 

“Are you gonna get up and actually do something?” Josh asked, stepping into the room, turning on the light. 

“Ugh!” Jake groaned, rolling over in bed. “Why the fuck are you in my house?” He asked. 

“Because you won’t answer my texts and calls, and quite frankly, it hurt my feelings,” Josh said mostly out of sarcasm. “What’s the problem?”

Jake looked over at his brother, considering if he had the energy to pour out his heart to Josh. Instead, he sighed and looked back up at the spinning fan and continued to toss the ball into the air. 

“Come on,” Josh said. “I can only handle so much brooding before I begin to get jealous from you stealing the limelight.” Jake scoffed with a small grin. 

“You’re an asshat,” he said. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Tell me what’s going on. I know who it’s about, at least,” Josh admitted. 

“What do you mean?” Jake said, catching the ball one last time, turning to face his brother. 

“Oh give me a break,” Josh said, coming to sit in the deep papasan chair in Jake’s room, leaning back in it and folding his legs underneath his body. “It’s Y/n. Everyone knows, Jake.” 

“What exactly do they know?” Jake said, reaching his hand back with the ball, spurring Josh to open his hands in preparation to catch the ball. Carefully they tossed it back and forth as they spoke. 

“That you’re an idiot,” Josh began. “Why did you tell her you didn’t have feelings for her? Like, what kind of bullshit was that?” He continued. “You and I both know you’ve been crazy about her since you met her.”

Jake caught the ball and sighed deeply before tossing it back. “I don’t know. I panicked in the moment,” he said. “Nothing ever ends well for me. She’s my best friend. Everyone says don’t fall in love with your best friend, and when she told me she had feelings for me, I just wanted to run away, I–” He shook his head, fumbling for the ball and missing it, watching as it hit the wall with a loud thwack. 

“Shit,” He said, inspecting the wall for damage. 

“Come in the kitchen for shots,” Josh suggested. “I’ll steal your casamigos,” he grinned. “Let’s talk.” 

“I don’t feel like talking,” Jake argued. 

“Well, that’s what you’ve been doing, Jackass. Now get off your ass and talk to me, or I’ll become your worst nightmare.”

“You’ve been that way since we were born,” Jake grinned slightly, rolling off of his bed. 

“And I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon, either,” Josh finished. “Come on.” 

***

“Got everything you need?” Danny asked as you placed your bag on the floor board. He reached his hand over to squeeze your thigh. You nodded with a gentle smile. 

“I think so,” You said, buckling your seatbelt, and offering Danny a gentle smile.   

“Still feel like coming over?” He asked you. “No pressure.”

“Danny, I promise. I want to,” you assured him, reaching over and kissing him on the lips. “I want to stay with you.” 

“Okay,” he said in a low murmur, grinning softly. “Okay.” 

The drive to his house was quiet, but content, his right hand clasped with yours as you rested it on your thigh. You looked out at the night lights as Danny’s music played softly through the car. Danny lived on the other side of town, but much closer to downtown than you’d remembered. Since the boys moved to Nashville, you hadn’t really spent time at his house. Usually, band meetings, rehearsals and get-togethers would take place at Jake’s or Josh’s depending on who was feeling like hosting at the time. Coming here to Danny’s felt like an exciting new adventure. 

“You’re quiet over there,” he said after a while, pulling you from your thoughts. 

“Oh, I was just thinking,” You told him, squeezing his hand and offering him a small smile. 

“Everything alright?” He asked, stealing quick glances at you. 

“Yeah, It’s just–I can’t remember when I was at your house last. I don’t know if I’ve even been inside,” you said honestly. 

“Well, I can guarantee you, it looks just like a house on the inside,” He winked at you. “I’ve got a couch, a fridge–ooh and even a bed, if that surprises you,” he winked, turning into his neighborhood. 

“You better watch it,” You told him. “I’ll start holding it against you,” you grinned. “And you don’t want me to do that.”

“I don’t?” He grinned, raising an eyebrow. “And what exactly would my punishment entail?” Danny asked. 

“I’ll spank you,” you warned him, narrowing your eyes with determination. 

“You’re gonna spank me?” He asked through a chuckle, pulling into his driveway. 

“Don’t tempt me, Wagner. Your height, stature and masculinity means nothing to me.”

“Be careful what you say in tight spaces, sweetheart.”

“Why’s that?” You asked, feigning innocence. 

“Because you just might get more than you bargained for.”

“Is that a challenge?” You asked, reaching for the door handle. 

“It’s a promise,” he said, stepping out of his car and coming around to you, swiftly reaching up underneath you, pulling you upward.

“Danny!” You practically squealed. 

“Up you go!” He said playfully, letting you dangle over his shoulder. Figuring you needed to even the score, you reached back and slapped his ass as hard as you could as he marched up his driveway. 

“Ow!” he yelped, stepping up to his porch. 

“And eye for an eye!” You told him with a chuckle. 

After the playful moment, he carefully swung you back down on your feet and reached for his keys in his pocket, unlocking the door, and opening it for you. “Come on in,” he said, letting you walk past him into the dimly lit foyer of the house. It was decorated with modern taste, with beautiful wood floors installed throughout the entire house. It was an open concept, breathing life into the space, with thoughtful decorations that were most definitely hand picked by Danny throughout the time of being in Nashville. 

In the corner, you saw his golf bag, the clubs sticking out of it at different angles, like he had recently played. 

“I should take you some time,” he grinned, following your gaze. “I’d love to see your form,” He said. “Think you could keep up?” 

“No, I’d be absolutely awful at it,” you admitted, looking up at him. “But, you know what I would be really good at?”

“Mm, what’s that?” He asked. 

“I’d be wonderful at sitting on the golf cart, giving you a big ol’ clap when you make a good shot, and then handing you a fresh beer every now and then.” 

“That’s because you’re dependable, sweetheart,” He said, bending to kiss you on the top of your head. The flirtatious conversation had left you fighting a swarm of butterflies, the pet names making your heart practically swell in your chest. 

“Are we gonna spend the entire evening doing this?” You asked, the corner of your mouth quirking up with playfulness. 

“Doing what?” He asked, stepping into the kitchen and reaching into his refrigerator for a cold bottle of wine. You watched his arms muscles flex as he reached up into the cabinets to retrieve two wine glasses. 

“Flirting with me constantly with no end in sight?” You asked, stepping toward him.

“Is it a crime to flirt with a beautiful woman?” He asked, pouring a glass of wine.

“It is when it drives me fucking crazy,” you said matter of factly, watching as he casually shook the curls from his head. 

“Well in that case,” he said, setting down the full glass, pushing it back on the counter. “Let me make it worse,” he said as he took the last step forward, his hands finding their way to your hips. His face hovering just above yours, and his eyes floated over the curve of your lips, his nose resting perfectly alongside yours. “How about now?” He asked again, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“I think you should kiss me, Danny Wagner,” you told him. “Now.” 

“I like it when you get annoyed with me. This is new,” he grinned. Leaning in slowly, he placed his lips on yours and delivered a delicate kiss, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more of him. You pressed yourself firmly against him, feeling him reciprocate with stronger urgency, his lips folding in time with yours as you inhaled his scent, knotting your fingers into his curls and tugging. He groaned softly into the kiss, his hands moving downward to grab at your ass as he turned around with you, walking you back against the counter. You felt his hot breath expel against your skin, his slick lips beginning to wander from your mouth, down to the hollow of your neck. He took your earlobe in between his teeth and pressed down, pulling away just enough to elicit a soft hiss from you. He chuckled sexily, his curls tickling your face as he leaned into the crook of your neck, touching his lips to what he thought was the perfect spot. You felt his teeth, then felt the vacuum from him sucking on your skin, leaving a hickey for the next day. “So everyone knows that you belong to someone. To me.” It was bliss to be wrapped up with Danny, and he ensured that you’d feel like the only woman he could see. You felt the small welt pulse 

“Danny, take me to bed,” you whispered as he kissed you. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, pulling away from you to look into your eyes. 

“Let’s just lay together,” you decided to say, knowing you most definitely wanted more, but not sure if it was the right moment or not. 

“Okay,” he said gently with a smile, reaching for your hand. You walked through the house as he led you to his bedroom, having completely forgotten about the wine. He would need no liquid courage tonight. He was already becoming drunk off of you. 

***

“Show me your favorites,” Danny asked in bed with you cuddling him, your head resting on his chest. He’d been swiping through several of his Spotify playlists, playing snippets of several different songs, but never fully committing to playing the whole song through—you’d assume he’d tried to avoid the opportunity for awkwardness. It was amusing to you how he could be so effortlessly effervescent one moment, and then so reserved and bashful the next.

“Play me a full song that you love,” you redirected. “One that you know I won’t know,” you said, turning your head to look up at him. “I just wanna listen. Can be anything.” His fingertips paused. 

“Alright,” he agreed softly, scrolling through his music before stopping at one song called ‘Mr. Forgettable,’ by David Kushner. You watched his thumb hover over the song, hesitating before swiping away. 

“No wait,” you stopped him by touching his arm. “Play me that one.”

“Oh. Okay,” he said, his tone rising lightly with hesitation. You watched as he pressed play, sitting the phone on his belly and laying back. In the low light of his bedroom, you closed your eyes and listened. 

I know that you're waiting for me like a dog But have some patience for the part of me that's lost There's been a hundred times When I don't recognize Any of you that love me I try to memorize and identify But it's all getting foggy My head is in the clouds right now Just pray I come around, around Hello, hello, are you lonely? I'm sorry, it's just the chemicals Hello, hello, do you know me? I'm called Mr. Forgettable  Mr. Forgettable

You listened quietly as you rested on his chest, finding it just so that his heart thumped to the beat of the song. Every now and then, you’d feel a vibration against your ear as he hummed his favorite parts. It was a sad song with a cheerful beat, which you found quite ironic considering its content. Once it was over, you let the silence linger for a few moments before tilting your head to look up at him. 

“Do you feel like that?” You asked him softly, your throat aching. His eyes drifted from the phone screen to your eyes, then your lips and then back up again. He swallowed once.

“Sometimes,” he answered honestly. 

“You feel like you’re forgettable?” You pushed further, propping yourself up on your elbow. 

“It’s okay, really,” he said with a gentle smile, though he wouldn’t look you in the eye. “I’ve felt like that most of my life,” he sighed.

“Danny…” you started, watching as his cheeks pinkened with embarrassment. “You’ll never be forgettable to me.” You placed your hand on his chest and his eyes softened as he looked down at you, his lips pulling into a flat line as his expression grew more serious. “Let me prove to you that you’re becoming everything to me,” You said, lifting your hand to his cheek, watching as his eyes lowered to your mouth. You moved closer to him, your bodies fitting together perfectly as he rolled into you, kissing you tentatively at first, as if testing your boundaries. “It’s okay,” you whispered into the space between you. 

Danny moved to press himself against you, his weight adding a welcome sense of comfort as his hands moved around your body, his fingertips pressing into your skin. “More,” you huffed against his lips. “I trust you.” 

“You do?” He asked, pausing for just a moment.

 “I want more of you, Danny. Please.” His hands move reflexively for the hem of your shirt, and you lifted your arms over your head as he pulled it off of you, tossing it to the side. His hand snaked up your bare skin, his fingertips dipping under the cup of your bra as he kissed you. You felt his touch as he moved his hand around your body, his teeth nipping and tugging at your bottom lip as his tongue danced expertly with yours. Slowly, he released his nervous and patient apprehension, gladly appeasing your request. You reached your hand down where he had paused, pulling his hand upward to hold your breast, guiding him with your hand on top of his. His grip tightened around your breast, his thumb grazing your swelling nipple, a soft, breathy chuckle escaping from his nose as he moved over the bud again, igniting a layer of goosebumps all over your body. Softly, you moaned into his mouth, reaching your hands down to cup his clothed cock, finally realizing how well-endowed he was. You walked your fingertips upward and unzipped his pants, nimbly unfastening the button closure with two fingers, reaching just inside and immediately felt the heat emanating from him. 

Slowly, you walked your fingers down his lower belly and smoothed them over his bulge. His length hardened beneath your touch, and you could feel him tense and then release. You felt his grip tighten around your breast in response as he moved to flip you so that you were on top of him. Rising from him, you moved your hair out of the way to one side and lowered yourself back down, kissing him deeply. Closing your eyes, you intentionally ground your hips against his firm cock, feeling your own muscles begin to contract and release as they silently begged for his attention. 

“You’re such a tease,” he breathed through a sexy smirk, reaching up to unclasp your bra. 

“I’ve said it before, Danny. I’m full of surprises,” you murmured under your breath, your tone heavy with desire. “I’m not always the innocent girl you think I am,” you told him. 

“Then drag me to hell.” He let your bra slip off of your skin, falling onto his belly. He tossed it to the end of the bed before bringing his eyes up to your chest. 

“Jesus,” he groaned again, and you smirked down at him, watching as his eyes widened for a moment before slipping into a lustful expression, his hands moving to squeeze them firmly in his hands, his thumbs moving instantly to rub over your nipples, biting at his bottom lip when they swelled to their full, aroused state. 

“Like what you see?” You asked him, resting your hands on his sides. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/n. How could you not know how incredibly gorgeous you are?” He asked, moving his fingertips to smooth over your bare sides and belly. 

“I could say the same thing about you,” you admitted. “I’ve wanted you for a while, Danny.”

“I’ve wanted you for years,” he added. “I have to admit,” he started, but paused. 

“What?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. 

“I’ve imagined what it would be like to be with you,” he explained. You watched as his cheeks flushed. 

“You have?” You asked him, beginning to grind your hips against him slowly as he spoke. You watched his expression shift slightly as you felt his cock press against your ass through his unzipped pants. 

“So many times,” he admitted quietly, reaching his hands to your hips. He pulled you down further against himself, lifting his hips to grind against your ass. 

“You’ve definitely been on my mind too,” you told him. 

“Oh?” He asked. 

“Mmhmm. Usually late at night when I can’t sleep,” you continued. “My thoughts wander…”

“And what do they come up with?” He asked, whispering his fingertips over your belly, making you shiver from his ghosting touch. 

“Usually they’re thoughts of you,” you explained. “Naked.” 

“And what exactly am I doing in these thoughts?” He asked, the corner of his mouth tilting with interest. 

“You’re with me,” you answered, echoing his touch, walking your fingertips up his belly, taking note of the dark wisps of hair that adorned his chest. Not too much, not too little, just right. He was masculine, but sensitive and understanding, and that duality had the power to drive you absolutely insane. 

“Why’s it so hard for you to say, Y/n?” Danny asked, bringing his hand down to meet yours, interlacing your fingers together. “What were we doing?” His confidence, though so understated and reserved before now settled into a presence that was simultaneously charming and incredibly sexy.

“We were—you know,” you responded sheepishly, looking up into his eyes. 

“Fucking?” He asked quietly, his brown dilating with interest. You nodded yes, but the images in your mind were racing: you bouncing on his cock, your hair falling loose and wild over your breasts, your mouth dropped open in ecstasy as he railed into you. “You’re imagining it right now, aren’t you?” He asked, his lips drawing upward in a crooked line. 

You didn’t answer him. The heat in your face and averted gaze told him everything you needed to know. He chuckled softly, “look at me,” he commanded, and you did, turning your gaze downward. “I would be lying if I said I haven’t imagined the same thing,” he admitted. 

The space between you and him was thick with need and anticipation. “Danny…” you said after a moment. “Are we moving too fast?” You asked him. 

“Do you think we are?” He turned the question around. “Listen,” he said gently. “ I’ve waited for you for over two years. I can wait as long as you need.” You smiled down at him, biting your bottom lip as you took notice of how sexy it felt to have a man so considerate and understanding as your own. Slowly, you moved off of his lap, laying down and cuddling against him, lying in the crook of his arm. 

“I really, really like you Danny. 

“And I really, really, really like you, Y/n,” he responded with a smirk, looking down at you as you tilted to look up at him. 

You echoed his expression. “Kiss me,” you told him. With his free hand, he tilted your head upward by your chin and leaned slightly to place his supple lips on your own. He was so gentle and tender, taking his time as he kissed you. “Let’s slow things down a bit,” he said, smiling against your lips. “Hm?”

“Mmhmm,” you breathed against his kiss, lifting your hand to rest on his cheek, your fingertips dancing upon the curls that dance upon the curve of his ear. His tongue looped around yours, hot puffs of breath exchanging between your mouths. You kicked at the sheets and covers bunched around your legs, and wrapped one around Danny as you lay with him. In his arms, you felt infinitely beautiful, and more importantly, you felt important and valuable. 

***

“Thank you,” you said after a long while. 

“For what?” He chuckled softly. 

“Just for being you. For being just…incredible,” you told him, feeling your pulse thumping through your chest. “For being my person.” 

“You’re my person,” he said, taking your hand in his, kissing it. “And I have a question for you,” he continued. 

“What is it?” 

You watched his Adam's apple bob up and down for a moment before he finally spoke. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He asked, squeezing your hand softly. 

You paused for a moment, a bright smirk growing on your face. “Do you think you can handle me full-time?” You asked him expectantly. 

“Honey, I crave it,” he told you. “All of you. Every day. The silly things, the important things…the happiest things and the saddest ones too. So yes, I think I can handle you. Should I ask you the same question?” 

“Danny, you’re probably the lowest-maintenance man I’ve ever dated,” you explained with a soft grin. “You’re just so– easy.” you landed on the word, and it felt right because it was true. “I don’t think I’ll ever have to worry about what you’re thinking or feeling. So yes, Danny. I think I can definitely handle you. I want you–full time,” you smirked. 

 ***

You’d both let the evening settle, resting on Danny’s chest until, when it became too hot, you’d turned in the other direction, fluffing Danny’s pillows and settling yourself back to sleep. You’d been restless, tossing and turning in bed. It wasn’t Danny’s fault; ever since you were young, you were plagued with being a hot sleeper, ending up kicking off the tangle of sheets and covers toward the end of the bed. Once you’d fallen asleep, images of Danny filled your mind, just like they had before, of him touching you and making love to you after you’d given your body to him completely. In your drowsiness, you’d grown increasingly annoyed with the layer of sweat that had begun to stick to your body, pasting the bottom sheet to your underside. As you rolled around, you uttered sleepy ‘sorries’ to Danny, who moved sleepily to touch you and kiss you before turning over again. You drifted between dreams for the next few hours until you’d roused yourself fully awake again, unable to coax yourself back to sleep. Rubbing at your burning eyes, you rolled out of bed as quietly as possible, trying your best to not bother Danny asleep beside you. He lay fast asleep as you watched him for a moment, tiptoeing around the bed as you moved toward the door. 

The house was dark, save for a small lamp in the living room and the recessed LEDs underneath the cabinets in the kitchen. Opening the cabinets, you searched for the glasses, finding one and stepping toward the fridge, using the water dispenser to fill up the cup. You moved to ice next, hoping that it wouldn’t create much noise, but you were so wrong. Several pieces of ice tumbled out, hitting the sides of your glass and knocking out of the freezer tumbling to the floor.

“Shit,” you said to yourself, bending to pick up the ice cubes, kicking the few strays that you couldn’t reach under the freezer, smiling to yourself while imagining Danny’s grin if you had confessed that you were one of those people. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” 

You jolted, almost dropping your glass of water when you heard his voice. Turning around, you saw Danny stepping into the kitchen, his eyes heavy-lidded, dressed in nothing but thin, black boxers. God-fucking-damn, you thought to yourself, feeling your core activate with need. You squeezed your thighs closer together, clearing your throat.

“Oh,” you began. “Yeah, sorry. I got really hot and couldn’t sleep.” Danny stepped closer to you, his bare chest and shoulders illuminated in the low light as he stopped to lean against the counter beside you, crossing his arms across his chest. 

“Don’t apologize,” he said softly. “Truth be told, I couldn’t sleep, either.”

“You’re such a liar,” you said with a grin. “You were gone when I got up. Didn’t even move.”

“That’s because I was pretending,” he grinned. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, looking at him skeptically. 

“I was thinking about you,” he admitted.

You could have cursed him for having such a sultry gaze in the moment, coming up with something smart or clever to say in response, but this time he had entranced you, moving you to silence. He watched you for a long moment as you swallowed and set down your glass of water. 

“You okay?” He asked you. 

“I’m fine,” you answered him, deciding in the moment that you wanted him in every meaning of the word. You stepped closer to him. “Danny.”

“Y/n.” He answered, his hands uncrossing to fall at your sides, caressing your hips as you stepped into his space. “I think,” you began, mustering the courage and honesty to finally say “I want you to take me to bed–and I don’t mean to sleep.”

He paused for a moment, raising his eyebrows, nodding slowly. “Are you sure?” he asked. 

“I’m sure,” you answered, reaching down for his hands. “Please. I want to know every part of you,” you alluded. “Take me to bed, Danny.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said quietly, leaning forward to place one delicate, but tender kiss on your lips. Squatting slightly, his hands moved behind you, reaching behind your knees to hike you up easily, carrying you silently through the house and into his bedroom. With your arms around him, you felt safe and secure. The moment filled you with excitement and nervousness too, and you no longer felt the insecurities from earlier in the evening. As he moved with you through the threshold of the bedroom, Danny skillfully swung the door shut with his foot and stepped toward the end of the bed where the covers lay unkempt and tangled. Holding you securely with one hand, he pulled the sheets and comforter off of the bed, letting it fall to the floor. Gently, he leaned forward and laid you on your back, staying close for a moment. “If at any time,” he murmured gently, “you feel uncomfortable or you want to stop, you tell me, okay?” You watched as his gaze swept between your eyes, waiting for you to respond. “It’s just us, together. I want it to be perfect,” he explained, bringing his thumb upward to caress your cheek. 

“Me too,” you nodded. “Danny please,” you continued. You appreciated how sweet he was, but the heat and stimulation in between your thighs was starting to become unbearable. 

“Don’t worry,” he said with a flirtatious wink before lowering off of you, reaching underneath your oversized sleep shirt to pull at the waistband of your panties, rolling them down off of you. You watched as his head lowered, and his dark curls swept over your lower belly, tickling your skin. Gently, he placed a soft, velvety kiss on the lines from the waistband that had dug impressions into your skin. Glancing up at you through dark lashes with an eager grin, he rolled your underwear down further, exposing your last vestige of privacy–and yet, beneath his heavy gaze, you felt inexplicably radiant. He looked at you like exquisite, cherished art–like something to behold and to protect–or like how a well-learned sculptor gazes at a monolithe of marble, his mind chipping away the extra pieces to reveal the masterpiece beneath it all. 

“I’ll never get tired of that,” you smiled down at him. 

“Of what?” He asked. 

“The way you look at me.” 

He smiled gently, the apples of his cheeks rising. His arms moved to hook around your legs as he repositioned you, spreading them slightly so he could place more soft kisses on your tender, warm skin. 

“Danny,” you half-whined, feeling restless as he continued to litter your skin with tender kisses. 

“I will,” he answered, predicting your thoughts. “It may be three A.M., but I’m perfectly fine with taking my time with you.” With that, he shut you up and you laid back tossing your hair around you as you watched him take charge below. 

“Just relax,” he told you, adjusting himself between your legs one last time before unhooking one of his hands from around you to part your folds. You should have been embarrassed by the mess you’d already made. You should have fought to keep your legs closed so that he didn’t see how wet you were, but you didn’t. You lifted your head slightly to watch him, his eyes brightening with lust as he saw your open pussy for the first time. “Oh my God,” he murmured almost inaudibly, sliding his thumb into your slick, applying soft pressure to your skin as he touched you for the first time. You felt yourself humming softly, perhaps to break the slight awkwardness you felt, but you stopped as soon as he moved to your clit, pressing the meat of his thumb over the rise, puffing a soft chuckle through his nose in response to your body’s reaction. His fingers had to have been dripping from how turned on he’d made you, yet he made no mention of it. He was silent and focused as his fingers rubbed into you. 

“Still good?” He asked you quietly, and you nodded down at him. 

“More,” you huffed through a whisper, and you watched with great anticipation as he answered your request by ducking his head down, introducing the wet warmth of his tongue as he tasted you for the first time. You felt the gentle puffs of his breath against your thighs, adding to the heat against your skin. And there he was, all over you at once, his tongue lapping at your folds with learner’s curiosity as he traveled the expanse of your pussy, the flat of his tongue dragging along your most sensitive areas just once before moving elsewhere. “Fuck,” you murmured softly, bringing your hands to your breasts, squeezing them through the thin cotton of your tshirt. In response, Danny pressed his face firmly against you, the curvature of his nose pressing into your skin, igniting even more pleasure. Moments later, he began to shake his head back and forth, creating a feeling of undulation against your swollen clit. “Fuck me–oh my god, Danny,” you groaned, reaching down to take a fistful of his hair, pulling him against you and then away when you became overstimulated. Coming up for air with a heavy gasp, you caught a glimpse of his face in the low light of the room, pinkened with exertion and friction. “Come here,” you commanded breathlessly. 

He rose from in between your legs and laid down on top of you, dropping one of his hands back down to your pussy as he leaned in to kiss you, his lips and tongue laced with your own taste. The kiss was fiery and passionate, his lips pressing and pulling at your own as you moaned in response to the movement of his fingers. His face was slick, both with your slick and his perspiration. You could feel his hardness against your belly, your core thumping with anticipation for what was to come. 

“Let’s get this thing off of you,” he grinned, pulling away to tug at the hem of your shirt, lifting his body long enough to slip it off over your head and toss it in the room. He returned to your naked body, his hands smoothing over your breasts and erect nipples. As if he couldn’t resist, he lowered his head, lolling his tongue in loose, wet circles around each swollen bud, suckling and pulling on them. You lifted your hands to his bare shoulders, running your fingertips over the expanse of his back. His skin was so soft, yet his muscles so incredibly strong. 

“Please,” you groaned louder, lifting his face with your hands. “Danny please,” you looked into his deep, chocolate eyes. 

“Please what?” He had the nerve to tease, his breath wisping against your face. “Please what, Y/n?” He asked, his tone looping sugar-sweet into your ears. 

“Please–fuck me,” you finally begged, telling him the words he wanted to hear. “I need you inside of me, now. I need you–” he placed his pointer finger against your lips. 

“You won’t ever have to beg me to fuck you,” he murmured, pulling stray pieces of hair from your face and setting them to the side. In the darkness of the room, his features were cast in a natural blue hue, the sharp lines of his face exaggerated in the contrasting, dark shadows of the evening. He began to move, placing more kisses on each breast, down your sternum and belly before moving off of you. “Do you want to take these off?” Danny asked quietly, standing from the bed. As you sat up, you saw how obvious his erection had become through the crotch of his boxers. 

“Do I turn you on, Danny?” You asked him, looking up from below. He didn’t respond, only gazed down at you with an intensity that needed no further explanation. Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his underwear, you rolled them down slowly, taking notice of his prominent happy trail, which led lower and lower as you revealed more of him. Exhilaration rippled over your body as his skin grew paler, another sign of private vanity that you were becoming introduced to. Slowly, you pulled his boxers down, revealing inch by inch his length, springing free. You let his underwear drop to the ground and let him step out of them, kicking them to the side. Taking his cock in your hand, you felt his incredible warmth as you began to stroke it slowly. He heaved a relieved sigh, blood rushing downward as he swelled to full erectness.

“I’ve imagined this for so long,” he murmured. “But this is so much better,” he chuckled softly. You grinned up at him and began to move faster, stroking up and down along the length of his cock, enjoying when he tilted his hips forward in response, silently asking for more. He didn’t indulge, though. “Let me take care of you,” he said quietly, taking his cock in his own hand, backing away from you. “Lay down, sweetheart.” 

You moved toward the end of the bed, resuming a similar position as before, and waited for him to take over. You felt the mattress depress gently as he crawled onto the bed, his hands lifting to spread your legs once more. Reaching up over your head, he grabbed a pillow. “Lift up,” he said gently, and when you did, he slid a pillow under your head. 

“You’re literally perfect,” you chuckled. He smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“Far from it,” he admitted. “But I wanted this to be,” he finished. Somehow he always knew what to say that would send you further into arousal. He parted your legs again and walked on his knees as he positioned himself just in front of your heat. You looped one of your legs around him as he stroked himself firm once more before guiding his hips forward, pressing his pink tip against your pussy with his tumblr, sliding his length against your clit by rocking his hips slowly back and forth. His hardness felt incredible, stimulating your body to respond by lurching your hips upward in an effort to take more pleasure from him. He did this for a few more passes before pausing to collect your wetness on the tip of his cock. “Are you ready?” he asked in a quiet, sultry tone. 

You nodded quickly, widening your legs. “Yes, Danny please.” Placing his right hand on the mattress at your side to ground himself, he used his dominant hand to guide himself into your entrance, pressing his hips forward to penetrate you for the first time. You gasped quietly, biting down on your bottom lip as your brows furrowed from the slight discomfort of adjusting to his girth. “Fuck,” he uttered, shaking the messy curls out of his face, pressing himself deeper inside of you. You squeezed your core muscles on him, beginning to enjoy the feeling of him filling you up and stretching you further. 

“Come here,” you murmured, reaching for his arms to pull him down. His face had slackened, his features working through a variety of sensations. He moved lower, snaking his arms underneath you as he pulled you in for a passionate kiss, rocking his hips back and forth as he slid deeper inside. His breath was heavy, expelling into your open mouth as you closed your eyes and let your head fall back against the pillow. Your hands reached for his shoulders, squeezing them before smoothing down his back. You pressed your fingertips into his skin, mimicking the rhythm he’d assumed before. Though the sensations felt wonderful, you needed him to go faster. “Faster,” you whispered. He looked down at you unblinking as he repositioned himself for a moment before quickening his pace, your breasts bouncing freely as your body popped off of his thighs. After a moment, he walked himself off of you and sat up, taking hold of your hips. With this angle, he’d have the leverage to give you exactly what you had asked for. Using your weight, he pulled your hips forward and popped himself forward, jutting his cock deep inside of you, causing a breathless moan to escape from your lips, your eyes rolling back involuntarily as your body ignited inside and out. “Oh my God,” you groaned deeply, taking hold of your breasts and squeezing them while he continued to buck himself into you, listening to the rhythmic clap of your thighs making contact over and over. 

“Better than I could have ever,” he breathed, reaching up to wipe at his sweaty face, “ever imagined.” His smile was infectious, his gaze fully attentive and loving. You reached up to touch his face, your thumb caressing his cheek in the darkness. He tilted his head to kiss your palm, walking his hand down in between your thighs, fingering your clit. “Oh–shit!” you practically shouted, arching your back off of the bed, squeezing as tightly as you could on his cock. “Danny!” 

His slammed himself into you in response to your moans, hot beads of sweat rolling down his face, nose and down his chest. “You’re perfect, Y/n,” he mewled, reaching forward to squeeze your breast. “Perfect tits, perfect ass, perfect fucking pussy,” he grunted, tweaking and pulling on your nipple as he slowed his thrust momentarily, backing himself almost all the way out of you before letting his weight send him back forward again, filling you up completely. “I feel you all around me, baby,” he said in a low, lustful tone. You responded by tensing around him once more, getting closer and closer to climax with each successive thrust. 

“Danny, I’m getting close–” you told him, your voice rising higher and higher, heavy with exertion.

“I know you are, sweetheart,” he responded. “Come here,” he said, reaching for your hands. He pulled you upward and wrapped his arms around you so that you were now in his lap with your legs wrapped around him. “I want you to bounce,” he explained. “And I want to feel you cum all over my cock,” he whispered into the curve of your ear. “Don’t be afraid to lose control. I’m here with you. We’re together, just like we should be.” His skin stuck to yours as you began to move. In any other circumstance you would have been miserable being this hot, but in this case, you welcomed it, wanting to be covered in Danny in any and every way imaginable. You wanted to be his in word and in action. As you worked on his cock, his hands moved to your ass, kneading and spreading it as he pulled you flush against his cock, his entire length buried deep inside of you. Disembodied moans and grunts escaped from your throat as your muscles trembled around him. You threw your hands around him, your fingertips combing through his dark ringlets, tugging at them, while your other hand moved along the expanse of his back, your fingers digging carelessly into his perfect skin. 

He hissed in reaction, tilting his head downward to see if he could find the hickey he had left earlier in the evening. When he couldn’t find it in the darkness, he decided he didn’t care to leave only one. He sucked harshly into your skin, his teeth nipping and pulling as he fucked himself up into you, the room thickening with the entrancing odor of sex. 

“Ah!” you yelped loudly, throwing your head upward. He took the narrow, well-timed moment to strike his cock into you as deep as he could. Before you could control yourself, a blast of white light fielded your vision, pulling you upright in a rigid stasis, your floor muscles tightening around him as firmly as you could. Your body quivered intensely as you seized for several silent, agonizing seconds. His arms pulled around you as he left himself anchored inside of you, his hips swinging slowly back and forth. His length pushed against the furthest boundary between ecstasy and agony, sending your hips whipping forward unconsciously. He was rock-hard inside of you, though you could hear him breathing erratically against you. 

“Let go, Y/n. Let go completely,” he urged you, tilting your head to the side so he could kiss you. “I’m not afraid of messes,” he said casually. “We’ll handle it later in the shower,” he said, pressing his lips to yours. “So, let go.” You closed your eyes and relaxed, letting him slowly begin to fuck into you again. This time, he strokes were excruciatingly slow, unsheathing himself almost completely before sending himself forward. “Do it again. Cum with me,” he spoke after a few moments, his voice shifting into one of more urgency. “Let’s cum together.” 

You nodded quickly. “Fuck me hard, Danny. Please.” Your whimpers filled the quiet room, and he obeyed immediately, lifting you up by your hips and slamming  you back down on his cock as he used what little leverage he had to pop himself up into you. 

“Squeeze,” he ordered, firmly slapping your ass. You moaned from the sharp pain, but sank further into ecstasy as you followed his command, tightening your core muscles around his length and resisted from letting go. 

“Fuck!” he groaned. “That’s fucking perfect,” he grunted. “I’m so close,” he told you. You nodded and moved with him. But decided to change positions slightly, pushing on his chest. 

“Lay back,” you told him, and he did, letting go of you. He laid back against the bed, and rested with his hands behind his head. Holding on to his sides, you moved to rest on your knees, undulating your hips against his, swiveling them and dragging yourself up and down against his length. 

“Oh my fucking God,” he groaned, watching you as you worked on him, feeling the all-too-familiar sensation swelling in your core. You would have grinned down at him, but your body reserved all resources to focus on the frenzy that claimed your body. 

“Danny,” you moaned his name, pressing down on his belly as you ground your hips against him. 

“I know, baby,” he spoke. “Come here,” he said, reaching for your hands. You lay on top of him, prepared to continue your movement, but he gave one last direction. “Squat on my cock, and lay your head on my shoulder.”

“I’m not that flexible,” you told him in the moment. 

“Just trust me,” he said, moving his hands to your sides, bending your legs. You moved to appease his request, situating yourself into a squat, and then laid your upper body back down, resting your head on his shoulder. You knew that your thighs would burn as a consequence, but he felt so good that it was all worth it. Before you could question further, Danny used the spring of the mattress and his strong hands on your hips to drive his cock into you as quickly as possible, gaining more depth with the open space between himself and your opening. “Take it,” he grunted. “Take all of it.” His voice was clipped, heavy with exhaustion, and you knew he was close. Your inner thighs quivered from the proximity of the incoming orgasm. 

Your jaw fell slack, opening as you began to let yourself finally lose control again. Danny’s face was streaked with perspiration as he began to lapse in momentum. “I’m close–” he blurted after a few moments. “I’m gonna cum,” he said again, increasing his pace. You squeezed and squeezed harder, unsure if you were going to be able to reach orgasm again. In the last moment of insecurity, your body got you there, sending heat exploding through your body. “I’m gonna–” he repeated again and again like a vigil before finally, himself, letting go, moaning loudly and hissing through his teeth as the same agonizing pleasure ripped through his own body. You lowered yourself to him as your core exploded, and pressed your body to his, wrapping your arms and legs around him as he pumped his hot seed into you, his hot breath looping around your ears and down your neck as you tensed around him for the last few times. 

You lay there with him, your chests heaving simultaneously. He kissed you deeply, his tongue folding softly with yours as he held you, still mounted inside of you. After a moment, you lifted your head to look at him, and he did the same. You couldn’t help the grin that grew at the corners of your lips. A belly laugh escaped your mouth as you laid back down beside him. 

“What?” He asked with a smirk, rolling on his side. 

“That was fucking incredible,” you admitted. “I never realized that when people talked about witching hour, they meant this…” you grinned, plopping against the pillows. 

“Witching hour doesn’t exist. Those moans everyone talks about? Those aren’t witches. They’re people fucking,” Danny grinned, his white teeth glowing in the darkness. 

“Agh, shut up!” You laughed, reaching for a pillow and slamming it into him. 

“I’m just telling the truth!” he teased, stealing the pillow. 

Stepping off of the bed, he reached his hand downward silently toward you. You looked at it then back up at him. 

“What?” You asked. 

“Let me take care of you. Properly,” he said, wiggling his fingers. “You deserve to go to bed squeaky clean and comfy.” 

You smiled, reaching to take his hand, except you pulled him back down to bed. “No,” you answered decisively. “I don’t want to wash you off,” you admitted, looking him in the eye. “I want to feel like this, to smell like you, to be full of you,” you told him. “So come to bed.” 

You watched as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple rising and falling before he finally answered. “Gladly.”

--

If you would like to join my taglist, fill out this form!

taglist: @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @astreamofcolors, @sammysobaby, @gretavanfreakmadie, @weneedsomehealing123, @sarahstardust7, @strawberryblondeee, @squirreledelman, @haylaps, @madneedshelp, @watchingover-hypegirl, @llightmyllovee, @moralmorbid, @gretavangroupie, @jordie-gvf-admin, @brujamagik, @gretasmokerising, @ascendingtothestarsasone, @mama-likes72, @gold-mines-melting, @songbirds-sweet, @myownparadise96, @sanguinebats @sulkyrie, @mackalah, @interstellar-shores, @jakekiszkasmommy, @laneygvf, @overtheehillsandfarawayy, @takenbythemadness, @joshskittytickler21, @jaketlove, @gretasfallingsky, @starshine-gvf, @itsdannysworld, @lipstickitty, @scoreofinfantryvines, @capturethechaos, @tripthelightfatality @hippievanfleet @demolitionndann @thetroublegetssoloud71, @malany-gvf, @gvfmarge, @idontlikelizards, @dont-go-home-without-me, @ace-harrington, @jjwasneverhere, @writingcold

[acradelius]

Could a request an NSFW fic of the junker boys reacting to the reader getting a tramp stamp of their names tattooed on them?

"Oo, A Tramp Stamp You Say?~"

Fandom: Overwatch / Overwatch 2

Pairings: Mako Rutledge (Roadhog) x Reader, Jamison Fawkes (Junkrat) x Reader

Rating: Lemon [🟡] (NSFW!)

Warnings/Mention Ofs: Tramp Stamps, Slight Possessiveness, Implied! Ownership Kink, Spanking, Doggy Style Position, Nickname Usage, Slight Aggressiveness, Cum On Body

Word Count: 1,131 Words

Author's Note: I have never wanted a tramp stamp till now

[ MAKO / ROADHOG ]

There are some things that need to be taken into consideration whenever thinking about getting something as permanent as a tattoo, especially when the theme revolves around Mako. First, how long has the relationship with Mako been going on for? If the relationship isn’t much of a serious one or hasn’t been going on for quite some time now, then he most likely would be against (Y/N) getting a tattoo that revolves around him on themself. Next, he would like to discuss the detailing of the tattoo that (Y/N) is wanting to get. He’ll admit that he’s not wanting to control what (Y/N) can or cannot get, it’s their body anyways, he just doesn’t want to cause harm to (Y/N) if someone was to recognize aspects of the tattoo that are related to him. If the detailing focuses more on his “Roadhog” persona, then he’s not as worried about it as the people know more of “Roadhog” and that he’s not an individual to be fucked around with. Yet, if the detailing focuses more on his own person, “Mako”, he’d be a bit more concerned as there’s still some individuals from his past that still have a grudge.

Whenever Mako finally comes home from his extended work mission, about two to three weeks after (Y/N) having gotten the tattoo, he’s quite curious as to what the tattoo might consist of seeing that (Y/N) would deny sending him pictures of it, stating that they would prefer to see his reaction. He’s able to catch a glimpse of color, raising an eyebrow at the placement of the tattoo, before walking towards (Y/N) who was bent over to draw themself a bath and rested his hands upon their hips. It’s then that he’s finally given permission to view the tattoo, chuckling as he gently tugs down their pants and lets them fall to the floor. Initially his first reaction is silence, thumb brushing across the tattoo as Mako takes the sight of it in. Observing the tattoo, the centerpiece of it is quite identical to the tattoo that he has upon his stomach, but instead of “Wild Hog Power” the wording had been replaced with “Mako’s Little Piggy”. On each side happens to be his scrap gun, along with his hook and chain being shot from the guns to complete the tattoo.

It’s not long after that he’s dragged (Y/N) into the bed, their ass up in the air all while their face is buried into the mattress to muffle the moans leaving their lips. Mako’s thrusts are painstakingly slow as he continues to look down at the tramp-stamp, thumb brushing across it as his intrusive thoughts begin to kick in. “You like everyone knowing who you belong to, Little Piggy?~ Letting everyone know that you’re Daddy Pig’s little whore?~ Walking around with his mark~” His thrusting pace increases, one hand gripping tightly onto (Y/N)’s hip all while the other one trails across the tattoo down to their asshole and then back again. He starts with spanking, chuckling and groaning at watching (Y/N) squirm and jolt at the impact, all while continuing to back themself against Mako’s cock. “Hmm~ How about we leave some more markings for everyone to see who you belong to?~ Let’s see how long it’ll take for all those Junkers to realize you belong to me forever now~”

[ JAMISON / JUNKRAT ]

While Jamison is an individual that’s somewhat familiar with getting and having tattoos, seeing that he’s got a various amount of them himself, he doesn’t really understand what a tramp stamp is till (Y/N) is able to explain it to him. When he finally processes the idea of a tramp stamp, and with you bending over to show him where exactly it would be placed at, he becomes all excited and bouncy. He spends the next couple of minutes with (Y/N) in front of a body length mirror, having them pose as he tries to imagine them with a tramp stamp. Yet, when it’s mentioned that (Y/N) wants to have the tramp stamp detailed around Jamison, this man almost cums in his shorts right then and there. Despite that Jamison isn’t the brightest person around he knows that getting something about another person, especially your significant other, is a major sign for a relationship. He doesn’t have a ring to propose to (Y/N) right then and there so he proposes the idea of the both of them going and getting tramp stamps together. 

Brainstorming and trying to visualize ideas ends up taking a vast majority of their downtime or free time whenever not being on work missions or having to deal with Junkers trying to steal their stuff. There’s a good amount of the time that Jamison will just go ahead and blurt out whatever idea decides to pop within his mind, seeing that if he doesn’t get it out into the open right then and there that he will most likely forget what he was thinking about. “Hey, Firecracker! How about I add that toothpaste that you use? Or! Or, how about that delicious sandwich you made for me for lunch some time ago!” It takes some time for (Y/N) to get him to realize that not everything about your partner needs to be on a tattoo, just some of the most important aspects.

He’s unable to focus his attention onto anything else whenever he catches sight of (Y/N)’s tramp stamp, a devious smirk forming on his face of how they have a mark of him now, a sign to show all those other Junkers that (Y/N) is his - no, belongs to him. Only ever will Jamison will be the one to view it within the positions that they’re both in: (Y/N) having their ass up in the air, swaying it from side to side, all while making sure to take Jamison’s cock like a good Firecracker they are~ His fingers trace the shapes around the rip tire that served as the centerpiece for the tramp stamp, then at the “Jamison Fawkes” that was circling around the rip tire itself. Just having seen his name now permanently on (Y/N) skin was enough to send shivers throughout his body, causing him to quicken the pace of his thrusts. His fingers would then trace the dotted lines showing the trajectory of his bombs, giggling softly as they had mini cartoony explosions behind them. It’s all enough to cause him to cum, but instead of cumming inside like he normally does, he proceeds to pull his cock out of (Y/N) and cum all over their tramp stamp, giggling like a mad man. “Mm, Firecracker~ It’s a good reminder of who you belong to~”

[snapeaddict]

Snapetober Day 17 - Apple

Loosely referencing previous snippets - a tradition of apple harvesting, and my own headcanon that Severus is a wonderful cook and baker.

Minerva had dropped by unexpectantly, a matter of paperwork which had rapidly transformed into idle chatter. She was still here when Severus knocked on the door for their traditional Saturday game of chess: not that it was unusual for her to join them, but she had originally planned an afternoon of marking.

"Ah, Severus, please come in", Albus said warmly, gesturing towards his usual seat.

It was a gorgeous afternoon in June, and the window, beside his desk, was wide open. Outside Fawkes was flying happily, using the light breeze to carry himself for a while, then flying back to an acceptable height and repeating the process. Severus closed the door behind him. He was carrying something with his left hand - Minerva raised an eyebrow.

"What do you have here, my boy?" the headmaster asked, half-rising to clear some space on his desk.

It proved to be difficult: many parchment scrolls fell on the floor, and only Minerva's quick reflexes avoided a catastrophe of spilt ink.

"You know tidying up is an option, right, Albus?" she asked, getting up to put a set of quills away.

"Don't bother, Minerva," Severus replied drily. "Such activity is apparently beyond the headmaster's capabilities."

He put down his burden onto the desk. It looked like a tart mould covered with a white cloth.

"This smells divine", Albus said, purposely changing the subject. "Did you bake for us, Severus?"

Minerva rolled her eyes and cleared the reminder of the desk with her wand.

"An apple pie. There were some fruits left in the cellars - I needed a break from the dunderheads' exams. You would not believe the number of spelling mistakes this year…"

"Why do you think I am here?" Minerva interrupted jokingly.

Gently, Albus put away the cloth, revealing a beautiful, golden pie. It was elegantly ornated with braids of puff pastry, and both Gryffindors could not help but exclaim in admiration.

"Severus! You must really cook for us more often. You know how much I love your cuisine - your apple pies are a particular favourite of mine."

"You do not pay me nearly enough for me to cook on top of teaching, Albus", the younger man replied ironically, but Minerva discerned a slight blush on his cheeks.

She smiled, taking her eyes off him before he would notice her.

"And why were you in the cellars?" she asked, summoning three plates, a knife and a pie server.

"I was attempting to finish my lunch without the house elves pestering me."

"Do not be so hard on them, Severus. They are merely happy to see you eat."

The headmaster set out to cut the pie, and Minerva watched as their younger colleague made no reply. Albus, clearly, was completely oblivious to Severus' obvious lie.

The man rarely baked, and when he did, it was always when prompted to by Albus - he brewed to clear his mind, he did not cook.

She whispered her thanks when the headmaster handed her a plate with a neatly cut slice of pie and lifted her cup of tea to her lips. From the corner of her eye, she watched as Severus glanced rapidly at the headmaster, an almost imperceptible look of contentment gracing his face when the old man let out another expression of delight.

The pie was, indeed, delicious.

Sitting back in her chair comfortably, she gazed at Fawkes who was flying once more towards the sun, purposely breaking a formation of wild geese in the process. Would Albus think this was perfectly innocent?

Sometimes, too, her eyes drifted to the calendar pinned to the wall next to the window and she smiled quietly to herself - it was Father's Day.

---

Written in response to this amazing prompt by anon:

[fandom-trash-goblin]

This is a chance to post your not-posted chengxian ideas if you have any. Please gimme gimme gimme gimme-

nonnie you've come at the sort of the right place. i'm like so late to fandom strolling without starbucks because in this house we boycott, and i'm sure this idea must have been done before. but. still. thanks for the ask, i put actual effort into this, hope you like it!! <3<3

A) to the point of invention AU

literally "i love you to the point of invention"

jiang yanli is at lotus pier and she dies :(. wwx and jc proceed to go absolutely feral and codependecy skyrockets

golden core melted-wwx in total breadown canon followed

until golden core transfer fails. fuck. dealers choice how

maybe smthing smthing jiang cheng wakes up to see he's being operated on. his brother lied to him about baoshen sanren and he's about to lose another sibling. #traumatised

both wwx and jc lose their core. they mad angry abt it, at the others throat- codependecy spirals. maybe they fuck. maybe they don't. anyways.

wwx invents demonic cultivation with the intent to protect-- he's mad about it being safe coz his shidi is gonna have to learn it to rebuild lotus pier and take revenge. they'd do it together. cue mad frenzy! wwx, jc handling it with the same ease he's done for years, and wen sibs watching this absolute clusterfuck wondering if these freaks are brothers or lovers or a secret third option.

demonic cultivation being so op and still mad safe because that's his shidi who he has to protect! . maybe they figure out how to power zidian through resentful energy

so you have DEMONIC CULTIVATORS! JC and WWX, both of them. rebuilding lotus pier, taking in E.V.E.R.Y.O.N.E that passes their dodgy moral code. unconventional sect numero uno. super-effing-powerful. No. 1 power couple #lifegoals.

nobody knows whether these two are fucking or not. even i don't. parasitic relationship but like lichen.

Jin Ling don't exist (sad face) but Jiang Yuan, sect heir, new gen demonic + spiritual cultivator, all around powerhouse. his xian-gege and wanyin-ge are so so proud.

where's the rest of the world, isaac? where's lan zhan. oops. forgot about them. pretend they're avoiding the demonic cult. (baby there's so many holes in the plot that it's practically cartoon cheese.) I just know there's gonna be a lot of cultivation science. and politics. and worldbuilding. and wwx being shidifucker extraordinaire.

B) blur on the horizon AU

title from Lady Lazarus by Slyvia Plath. //my brother is still alive. still dead. was brought back with a lazarus shot and a slap to the face// when visibility's poor, i'm the blur on the horizon//

wwx dies. and wakes up. not in mo xuanyu's body.. but in some random cultivator's body. like. and year or two post siege or burial mounds

he travels straight to jc. lotus pier still be recruiting. the recruiters take in this shady man.. let's be real. everyone here is just as shady.

he get's the intro. gets shown the rebuilt pier, the rules and The List. The List being how to defend gongzhu from shitty people and shittier politics. he's so fawking proud bit also resentful and angry because he should have been there. twin prides on yunmeng, remember? (for once in my life let wwx be the more bitter one abt yunmeng shuangjie yeah?)

WWX tries to stay away from JC. but he can't. let's be real he cant.

he climbs up the ranks fast... everyone can see this man would give his life for sect leader jiang. cue Second in Command being WWX 2.0 . wwx, for his part is so bitter but also incandescently happy. man never met an emotion he couldn't twist.

Jiang Cheng is wondering why this random cultivator seems so familiar. it get's so bad that he uses zidian to check this one whether he's wwx every once in a while.

but Jiang Cheng is also so tired of seeing ghosts from the corner of his eyes. and jin ling likes this new SIC when he barely likes anyone apart from his jiujiu. he lets go a little. wwx can wait, for once in his life.

cue wwx gaslighting jc into thinking there's no way this one could be wwx. also him being conflicted because on one hand jc's starting to trust him, and this life is almost everything he's dreamed of, but on the other, he's doing this as Random Cultivator and not WWX, how could you forget me, Shidi?

again, for once in my life let wwx be the more bitter one abt yunmeng shuangjie yeah?

idk i havent resolved this one. but there's a scene where wwx finds out abt chenqing, and jc in a fit of anger, after a hell lot of provoking, talks abt how SIC should have been his brother's (the feared yilling laozhu's) and not some strangers. and jc thinks this guy's gonna run far away from the madman his sect leader is but he's only more loyal more sticky more everything? is everything alright up in his head??

C) digging your grave AU (attempted sexual assault tw. it fails and the man's dead.)

title from Richard Siken's / our father who art in heaven / our father who art buried in the yard / someone is digging your grave right now. /

all of jiang cheng's life, he's never been wanted first, yeah? His father prefers his elder, adopted brother. His mother prefers her work and if she has to interact with someone it's his elder sister. His elder sister's got her own life- a boyfriend madly in love with her- a future mother-in-law who's more of a mother than her own- and sometimes Jiang Cheng thinks even she prefers Wei Wuxian more than him. (jin guangshan was rich, and is dead, good riddance.)

the only one who's cared about him is Wei Wuxian- JC's always been his person for wwx. and that matters so much... here's the person who loves Jiang Cheng for himself, someone for who he isn't a disappointment.

so when one day, on the day of wei changze and cangse sanren's tenth death anniversary, jiang fengmian, drunk out of his mind, tries to kiss wwx, saying how he looks so much like his parents and jc watches it happen. he sees how wwx is so fucking scared.. his brother, his person, the only person who has ever mattered is terrified.. and he just. sees scared and so fucking angry that he doesn't think. it's red. grabs his mother's favourite vase, and smashes is against his father's head

there's a dead man on the floor, bleeding into the carpet. baby jc going hysterical that he killed his dad. and wwx is cold. he can think it through. he's been betrayed by a man he thought as a father... and there's no one he can trust anymore. he has to save jc.

they bury jiang fengmian in the backyard, and run. they dont look back.

years later, jiang fengmian is a homicide case, wwx is a deranged kidnapper and murderer still at large, and jiang cheng is presumed dead. meanwhile, there's two lovely men living in a backwater town, bickering like old married couples do, and it's so nice to see love is in the air. nothing strange about them, yeah? they must have had those old-fashioned prejudiced people for parents. good on them for running away.

@jcs-singular-slut-strand come see what i wrote!!

[holyhead-hufflepuff]

photogenic

JAMES POTTER X READER

“All photographs are memento mori. To take a photograph is to participate in another person’s (or thing’s) mortality, vulnerability, mutability. Precisely by slicing out this moment and freezing it, all photographs testify to time’s relentless melt.” ― Susan Sontag

notes: happy belated valentine's day!

"Did you know that going to school year-round makes your brain rot and causes your soul to catch necrotizing fasciitis?" James asked, his hands in his pockets as he walked alongside y/n. "I read it in the muggle magazine your mum left out on the kitchen counter."

Y/N rolled their eyes. They were the co-creator of Remus's theory that James was just charming enough to get away with being annoying eighty percent of the time and still be liked. Unfortunately, their hypothesis was actively being proven.

"Such a big word for such a small brain," Y/N mused aloud, nudging James to hurry up. "Ignoring your inability to read medical journals, I would like to argue that photography assignments shouldn't count as schoolwork."

"Do you get graded?"

"Er, well, yes, I s'ppose I do."

"Well, then it counts." James smiled proudly, his hands settling on his waist and a triumphant grim mocking y/n.

"Deflate your ego, pretty boy; you'll sink the boat," Y/N deadpanned, stepping into the small rowboat.

"So you think I'm pretty?" James asked, his eyes bright with amusement and glaringly radiant with the water reflecting off them. "You should know I prefer handsome, awe-inspiring, beautiful, or even godlike. For next time, of course."

"I can swim, James. I will flip this boat and leave you drowning," Y/N threatened, jokingly rocking the small vessel back and forth. As much as James was irritating, Y/N would never. They couldn't help but form a fondness for Hogwart's golden boy.

The two had an odd dynamic — both of them knew it. Although James was Gryffindor's golden boy, he wasn't enchanted by school in the way y/n was. Y/N had a past of getting into trouble in muggle primary school, and they weren't enchanted with mischief in the way James was. And yet, they were both quite enchanted with each other.

"This far enough out?" James hummed after a bout of silence, his eyes darting around and looking for something stimulating.

"Yes, I suppose." Y/N pulled out their camera, messing with the shutter speed ring and aperture as James began to narrate the Appleby Arrows' quidditch game.

"-And then, Fawkes dove for the quidditch — like a dunce, might I add — and ran into his teammate. HIS TEAMMATE WHO HAD THE QUAFFLE. No respect for chasers at any level of quidditch, I swear. If I were Fawkes, I would-"

Y/N cracked a smile, watching him talk animatedly through the viewfinder. The assignment was on the beauty of water and knowing how to accurately capture the fluid movement of waves, ripples, and reflection. However, James had a point. Sometimes there was such a thing as too much schoolwork. So, instead of focusing in on the way water flowed around the boat's wood, they focused in on James Potter.

He was easy to capture, despite the way he bled light the way the sun exuded heat. His eyes were concentrated towards the shoreline, his hair was curly from the heat and humidity, and his skin was darkened by the sun. He was nervous about being out on the lake. It was evident through the viewfinder and his shaking leg. Y/N dropped the camera after a few shots, placing their hand on his leg.

"Do you want to go back? I know deep waters make you nervous." Y/N was soft and gentle, and James felt the warmth of their words soothe his nerves.

"No, it's okay. Just, uh, show me how to take a photo with the camera." James reached over, his hand brushing over y/n's as he swept their Zorki away.

"Well, I messed with the settings enough that it should be fine," Y/N started, nervously patting their hair down. "Look through the tiny window-like thing in the top. That's called the viewfinder. Then use the lever there to release the shutter. Just be careful before the film release is right next to it. James, maybe I should- oh!"

James grinned at the view. He was certain the photo was horrible; his hands were shaking from nerves, he couldn't find the viewfinder, and he only knew it worked when y/n congratulated him on his first photograph. He, of course, didn't know the process to get to the photo, but he was sure it wouldn't produce much. Nonetheless, he knew that a moment of some kind had been captured, and that was enough for him.

"Do you think that it will go up in museums?" James joked, pulling the camera up to his face to take another.

"Oh, yes, and you'll have to credit me. I plan on a 50/50 payout," Y/N laughed, playing along with the boy.

"You'll have to talk to my manager, Sirius Black. You may have heard of him. He is kind of a big world in the art world— Did you know he once peed on a public statue?"

"Unfortunately, I was there for his performative art piece," Y/N deadpanned, shaking their head at James fondly. "Come on, let's head back."

James was right. The photo was god-awful when it got developed; it was at an intense angle, y/n was blurry, and there was a watermark on the lens. The photograph was also loved and well-traveled. It traveled from the darkroom to Hogwarts to James and Y/N's first apartment.

[everydayyoulovemeless]

I am in dire need of a lone wanderer & companions reaction to the dunwich building and the krivbeknih.

Fo3 Companions Reactions to the Dunwich Building and the Krivbeknih

➼ Word Count » 0.9k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Platonic/Romantic

Charon doesn’t have any real opinion on the book itself other than it makes him feel incredibly uneasy. If it were up to him, he’d have it destroyed. There’s nothing good that could come out of an occult item such as this, and selling it for a profit just doesn’t sit right with him. The Dunwich Building doesn’t make him feel any greater, he’s just happy to be able to drop the book off and leave. Although, when you do place it on the altar, he gets burnt along with the rest of the ghouls in the building. It's not as bad, just a few scorch marks, but it still stings him.

The entire idea of the book being able to control people makes Clover uncomfortable, but as long as it's in your hands, she won't voice her opinions. Surely you know what you're doing, and she puts her full trust in you. If you mention anything about selling it to Obidiah, though, she'll panic a bit and beg you not to. How can you be so sure about this? Maybe you should think it over? On the flip side, however, she doesn't want you to take it to the altar either. I mean, why not just keep it for yourself? Control the swamp folk however you see fit? She would much rather it be in your hands than some old man anyway, and you're not so bad of an owner to her. So why not?

Star Paladin Cross thinks it's an abomination that should be terminated immediately. What kind of person would need something like this anyway? It's despicable, and she expects you to take it to the Dunwich building to have it destroyed instantly. In fact, she feels so strongly about it that if you were to sell it to Obidiah, she'd pull her sledgehammer out and ask you to reconsider. When the two of you finally find time to go down to the altar, she'll feel incredibly relieved. She finds the building itself to be odd, but at the end of the day, she's a realist who tries to explain all the paranormal instances with logical conclusions.

Jericho hated going down into the swamp folks' ritual site just to grab some book and would snatch it out of your hands to go sell it off so that the two of you could make some money out of your troubles. I mean, seriously, why go all the way down in some lousy cave for something you just plan on destroying? No, thank you. He's selling it. He also refuses to go anywhere near the Dunwich building. There have been a lot of stories he's heard from other raiders over the years, but none have ever been as chilling as the ones surrounding that place. He just wants to snag some caps out of it and leave.

Butch will act all jittery the entire time you spend around the Krivbeknih. It's unnatural, and he thinks that the two of you should put it back instead of carrying it around. What if it makes you both a target? Who else wants this book? He doesn't want any kind of threat following you guys around and would beg to just get rid of it. He genuinely couldn't care less about what you do with it as long as you discard it somehow. However, taking him to the Dunwich building to have the book burnt doesn't make him feel much better. He'll have his gun unholstered the entire time and will aim it at anything that moves, even his own shadow. He never wants to look back on this experience and doesn't want to involve himself with any cults for a long time to come.

Fawkes finds the book and religious aspects intriguing and might ask to study them a bit further before either of you do anything. Things like these don't ever lead to anything good, he's aware, but he also finds knowledge to be important when making decisions on such a broad scale. Who knows, maybe what he learns while looking into the book might help the two of you out later on down the line. Of course, at the end of the day, he thinks it's better to destroy it than to sell it off. The idea that someone could have complete control over an entire race of people is sickening to him, and he'd hate for anyone to feel any kind of entrapment. Fawkes isn't afraid of the paranormal, in fact, he finds it dreadfully interesting, and would probably spend way more time than necessary in the Dunwich building.

RL-3 thinks the swamp folk are disgraces to America, and would try to burn the Krivbeknih himself once you both obtain it. Honestly, it's embarrassing to know that such scoundrels are living in the States as we speak. That being said, he would scold you if you went and sold it to Obidiah. Have you not learned anything in your training? These kinds of behaviors are not to be tolerated. Besides, the wasteland could use a little community service, and the Dunwich building needs to be cleared.

Dogmeat's fur stands on end whenever you take it out of your bag. There's a certain aura around it that he can sense and it makes him anxious. He'll growl and bark until you finally put it back into your inventory. The Dunwich building isn't much better. He's much less on edge, but there'll be moments when he seemingly stares at nothing and barks uncontrollably. It's unsettling, to say the least.

[zeephyre]

CR3 EPISODE 65 SPOILERS HOLY FUCK

IMOGEN AND LAUDNA KISSED?!!?!-72828_ LAURA BAILEY ALMOST GAVE ME A FUCKING HEART ATTACK LIKE OBVIOUSLY I COULD SENSE THE TENSION BETWEEN THEM THE WHOLE EPISODE AND I KNEW THAT AFTER SEPARATING THEIR RELATIONSHIP WOULD SHIFT BUT I WASN'T EXCEPTING THEM TO ACTUALLY KISS TONIGHT???#?1)£ I LITERALLY YELPED IN TERROR I THOUGHT I WAS HALLUCINATING IM SO GIDDY RIGHT NOW

god chetney totally clocked them, it's so funny bc they were NAWT subtle -- also, patê low-key exposing them and laudna very subtly (not) changing the subject... chef's kiss.

this episode????? was so good??? i am so happy that my hellians are back together??? i can barely focus rn so I'll try to remember all the good bits (which was the whole episode).

fcg and ashton -- im really glad ash specifically told fcg to hold onto the feelings they have for frida to give them smth to come home to, bc he's brought up how self destructive fcg can get bc they don't consider themself important. it was a very cute moment, and i almost cried bc i love ashton and... idk. he's not coping.

ashton gave me very manic energy this episode. a lot of emotional distress disguised as an epiphany, but that moment of them telling fcg that they can't afford to be useless explained every second of flustered panic.

(not to be that person but i uh...i am starting to ship milo and ashton. i liked it before but now i REALLY like it).

i need to know wtf talie and matt have cooked up those little bastards.

chetney getting caught in a trap almost immediately after ajit warned them to be careful or whatever was pretty funny. the whole time that was going down i kept thinking, "the world is ending. we have better shit to be thinking abt than this fr," and not in a bad way. it's just ??? bro who cares who hired you, we are BUSY. i knew chetney attacking that shop keeper was gonna bite him in the ass, and it honestly was hilarious.

i know it was just casual and also sort of a trick, but i loved fearne giving chet a little kiss. they are so real to me y'all don't understand.

i have a very complicated relationship with the matron, bc i love her aesthetic, love her vibe (tho i hate birds, but i love a raven motif), and i also will never forgive her for taking my skrunkly wunkle away from me. that shared vision between orym, chet and fearne was... fucking amazing. matt outdid himself this episode fr. it's probably one of my favourite scenes of this whole campaign.

speaking of which... VAX SCREAMING???? HE'S IN PAIN????????? LET MY BABY GIRL OUT????? I STARTED FUCKING BAWLING NO JOKE. The imagery was so visceral i felt sick to my stomach and i just started tearing up. ludinus your days are fucking numbered.

SPEAKING OF THAT WHITE HAIRED OLD BITCH. HE'S ON THE FAWKING MOON WITH LILIANA???? IRA IS ALSO ON THE MOON???? WITH A REILORA???? AND WE'RE DEFINITELY GOING TO THE MOON AT SOME POINT??????? I LOVE THIS CAMPAIGN RAHAHWHSHJSJ

:( still no caleb safety confirmation but i think he's fine guys what could have possibly gone wrong /s.

we're in zephrah 🥺 i knew the episode was about to end, and it was so damn beautiful, but i can't wait until thursday. we're gonna see kiki. we have to tell her abt vax, but i also don't want her to know that he's suffering.

is it thursday yet :(

[alltingfinns]

TEH, part 3

I wasn’t sure how much there was left after the bonfire scene but apparently there’s about a half hour left, meaning these parts are in neat thirds.

I write as if anyone else knows what I’m talking about when these drop randomly once a year or so.

Sherlock remained more in focus from John’s perspective.

Still so cute how Sherlock immediately must hustle his parents out when his crush heterosexual former roommate shows up.

Mum putting her foot in the doorway in case there was any doubt who’s the “sherlock” of these two.

“Your parents? Your parents? Those were your parents?”

John who desperately wants to understand Sherlock. How much he would have wanted to interrogate them, I’m sure. But then he has to giggle at the absurdity of the Holmes brothers having such (seemingly) ordinary parents.

And then the hurt. “Did they know too?”

“So that’s why they weren’t at the funeral!” Because if they had been, John would have recognized them now of course. But also he probably thought they had died or something, making their existence as ordinary people even more shocking.

“Wasn’t working for me.” If Molly and John not mirrors then why this exact line. Why not “Well, everybody hated it” or “Didn’t fit me” or “Kept tickling my lips”.

Just saying. Plenty of options.

“Last night” “Too nebulous” goes on with the case.

There’s all the likelihood that, like with Sherlock’s survival, the writers just didn’t care who put John in the bonfire. They just wanted John in the bonfire. So that Sherlock could heroically rescue him.

And yes I was thinking about how this episode takes place “today” as in 5th November as in Guy Fawke’s Day. (Though the cool kids call it John Johnson’s day.)

Am I just that Johnlocked that I find it adorable that Sherlock angled the laptop so that John would see more/be more included?

Sumatra road is 28 minutes by car from Westminister. Definitely not below it. Gotta take some creative liberties for those sweet canon references.

Why hasn’t Moran just left town entirely? Oh well.

A bit of illegal breaking and entering as people walk by without giving them a second glance. That’s big cities for you.

I forgot how far they have to go through this.

Love that John got to comment on the demolition charges.

Ah, I get it! Moran still has to be in like radio range or something.

“Why do you think I know what to do?” Really, Sherlock? Really?

“And a soldier, as you keep reminding us all!” Sherlock why are you being so petty, you love him being a former soldier.

051113 is the bomb code.

I just love the line “Use your mind palace” because it makes me think of how intelligence is weirdly used as a superpower in media.

Also that you can vaguely hear Sherlock saying “off” as he’s panicking with his hands around the bomb.

John is so fucking smart but also maybe he also just has faith in Sherlock being clever enough. But anyway just cutting through the bullshit, this is a trick.

Maybe Sherlock is underhanded here. But John finds this sort of stuff difficult.

So here we get John Watson’s version of Dean Winchester’s purgatory prayer. “Of course I forgive you”

This explanation is definitely unreliable narrator. Sherlock wasn’t quite as in control as he likes to portray himself so of course he makes it out otherwise. But he’s convinced that Moriarty died but again: A. Singular. Body.

This explanation means that it was John that most importantly had to buy it. Possibly because close friend, with medical certification who Sherlock nonetheless felt he couldn’t trust the acting skills of.

I think this scene happened (more or less) and sometime after the proper end to the episode. But like even Anderson(Philip) noticed that the explanation is lacking.

Sherlock laughing like the utter little shit he is.

“There’s always an off switch.” Say that to the undefusable bomb. Although technically it did have an off switch, it was just too complicated to be tried without knowing the proper sequence.

Getting John to laugh even when he’s angry with him.

They really are the right kind of wrong for each other.

Mycroft being les miserable. XD

“Weddings. Not really my thing.”

You’re going to be planning and arranging the whole thing you miserable bastard!

A difference between Molly and John. She went for the suspiciously similar substitute, he went for (what he believed to be) the exact antithesis.

Oh my little lestrolly heart at Lestrade asking if Molly and Tom are serious. Although he is likely doing it because he is the one who would comment on the elephant.

“Real life is rarely so neat.” The goddamn bonfire.

They’re literally saying that the one true explanation for Sherlock surviving is that John asked him to.

“Time to be Sherlock Holmes.” *wears the damn hat*

Sherlock’s mind palace is certainly nicer than Magnussen’s.

[airybcbyy]

Texting the Obey Me! Brothers that your period is late

Lucifer

avid lucifer hater right here so like I'm making him in my brutally honest opinion ( mwah )

Literally would ignore your texts for hours upon hours

He's a busy man, he doesn't have time to be checking his phone every 2 minutes

I'd say he checks it like 2 hours after you've sent that text and he goes crazy

Normally the way he texts is very put together and simple but whenever you tell him he ends up texting you like this;

WHAT??

Y/N ANSWER RIGHT NOW

etc, etc

Turns out, your period had shown up about an hour after you sent that text-

And right now you were napping in your room

To which you wake up to Lucifer opening your door asking if he can speak to you about your child.

Which you have to tell him you're not pregnant now

And he'll go back to his work.

Mammon

Always on his phone

Gets the text IMMEDIATELY.

leaves his room and just busts in your room

I mean it's like he basically lives there already so why not just barge in the place?

You two freak out together 🫶🏽

He worries about how he's going to give Goldie less attention now that he's going to have a kid

You both calm him down and just start telling him how happy you are

You and Mammon both start making up some names for your possible child

Of course most of them are silly but you two enjoyed it nonetheless

You both take a nap, cuddling and now both of you thinking of your future

And unlike Lucifer, your period actually never does come

Well until like almost ten months later after you've had your adorable baby boy.

Leviathan

Another one who's always on his phone

But unlike Mammon, he ignores the text

For maybe 30 minutes until he gets through this whole manga series

Which doesn't take long

Immediately after he sees the text he freaks out

But instead of going to you, the lady who texted him

He goes to...

Solomon.

he texts the sorcerer freaking the fawk out

And the lovely sorcerer tells him these things you can get on akuzon called

✨ pregnancy tests ✨

He ordered like twelve of them and got them delivered straight to his room

He then rushed to your room and interrupted your show to make you pee on these twelve sticks

( they all came back negative btw )

the rest of the night you and levi cuddled and rewatch your favorite anime 🫶🏽

Satan

he's smart

He will text you back asking how long your period has been late for

And you'll tell him just a few days

but here's the issue,

Satan doesn't exactly know about female periods

So he just pulls something out of his ass

“ it has to be like months late for you to be pregnant ”

of course you believed your super smart and loving bf 🫶🏽

And then one month passed without a period

And then came the point whenever you were throwing up-

you took a pregnancy test and it came back a very strong positive

you immediately went crying to Satan, saying he lied to you!

and he made it up to you by taking you to cat cafes once every month until you gave birth to your beautiful daughter

Asmodeus

genuinely does not care

contrary to what others think, I think asmo would know if you're pregnant

he's the avatar of lust

of course you two have done it, but he makes sure to use the best protection possible.

it was exam time so he was sure you were just stressed

which would cause your period to be late

so he comes over to your room

( arms full of facial care and nail polish)

and you two relax and ✨cleanse✨

and after you'd taken your last exam, guess who came?

miss period 🫶🏽

and asmo got to tell you

“ i told you so ~ ”

Beelzebub

( i am a beel lover )

listen, biggest himbo energy right here

I don't think he'd be completely oblivious to the chances of getting pregnant

but i definitely think he'd be one of those people who think you can't get pregnant if you're standing up

( i'm so serious it's a thing )

and y'all have done it against the wall on multiple occasions

so when you text him, he thinks you're just being dramatic

until you're spamming his phone

“ beelzebub istg if you don't get the fuck over here I'm freaking tf out ”

and this big softie is immediately running to your room

1) because he's terrified of an angry you

2) he doesn't want you freaking out over him

you're contemplating your existence when he walks into your room

listen, you're still a teen, you were terrified of having a kid

so beel came and cuddled you and you two fell asleep in each other's arms

and five months later you're very pregnant and almost have the same appetite as beel

a complete nine months after , you were watching beel carry your twin boys with absolute love.

Belphie

is sleeping

he always has his phone on do not disturb

so he sleeps for about 12 hours straight before picking up the phone to answer you

In his drowsy state he really didn't think about it

Then he woke up completely and his brain went into overdrive

he may or may not have cared a little too much if you were pregnant

he went to your room and cuddled you, almost about to fall back asleep before looking at you

“ y/n we haven't even slept together ”

because truthfully you two had it because you didn't think sex was necessary in your relationship so far

“ oh. ”

and then the next day your period showed up.

My first obey me! Post and I'm literally in love with it, what?!

[starstruckwillows]

james potter x wife!reader

okay, what if we see little moments of the two of them raising harry all the way through his 7th year? like harry hosting sleepovers with ron and hermione and ginny and y/n and james being the best parents ever. and dropping harry off for the first time at platform 9 3/4. and girls coming into the picture. and idk, but you get it right?

♡ we deserve this life - j.p ♡

starstruckwillows 🂱

pairing; james potter x wife!reader

category; fluff, tiniest bit of angst if you squint with reading glasses on

summary; your beautifully regular life with your husband years after the war

warnings/content; none

other; fem!reader, erasure of so much death and canon sadness cos no thanks, bi harry

the war was painfully long and sorrowful, and when you fell pregnant, you were terrified to bring a baby into such a warstricken world.

but when your son was only a year old, the terror ended with what you thought would become a sacrifice. ultimately, things shook out and voldermort was killed.

you and james got the happy years raising your son that you needed.

"this is the life we deserve angel, i promise." james had whispered on the night of your wedding.

philosopher's stone

"go on harry, run!" james nudged your son's shoulder, who gripped his trolley uncertaintly.

you ruffled his hair, "don't worry, dad'll go first."

your husband shifted awkwardly, "erm well, i haven't... in a while, you know... since our last year and..."

with a laugh and an eyeroll, you slipped through the barrier, harry and james appearing just after, confidence restored.

and as harry rushed away to converse and load his things onto the train, you watched him with bittersweet love.

when the train took off, chugging away, james squeezed an arm around your shoulder as you buried your face into him to hide your upset.

"he's gonna have fun! don't cry love."

you sniffled, "oh yeah, like you won't be bawling later."

chamber of secrets

well, have fun he did.

amongst hosting sleepovers with his newfound trio over the holidays, it had slipped his mind to mention he could speak parseltongue, or that the heir of slytherin was traversing the school with a murderous basilisk.

you clutched your heart with an open mouth as you read the letter from dumbledore, "basilisk?" you screeched.

meanwhile james enthusiastically encouraged your son with a howler.

"oh merlin is ginny alright?"

"so proud of you harry!"

"fawkes? oh gods-"

"how's quidditch going anyway?"

"hermione, petrified?"

"oh, and also-" james frowned, cutting himself off and turning to you, "did you just say hermione was petrified? how'd harry and ron get anything done?"

you laughed shakily, still in fear, "oh i'm sure she found a way to tell them anyway."

james noticed your unease, ended the howler and swept you up into a dramatic hug, spinning you round until your ribs hurt from laughter.

"jamie, put me down!" you gasped out through your giggling, which he finally did.

"we raised the coolest son in the world."

prisoner of azkaban

your heart dropped when you read the headlines - peter pettigrew escapes azkaban.

james and you shared a look of pain. for the first time, this was not your husband comforting you when you fretted over harry being so far from home. this was a real threat, maybe even more so terrifying for james.

"mum, dad? what are you reading?"

wordlessly, james leaned back onto the sofa and a ran a hand through his signature mop of hair.

harry moved forward, peering at it, "peter pettigrew? who's that?"

you let out a sigh. thirteen years without harry knowing wormtail as the man that had almost got you all killed had been a push. it was always going to come to this eventually.

you felt better knowing remus would be teaching at hogwarts this year, sirius moving to the castle with him.

still, that night you could do nothing for james but let him push his face into your neck and tighten your arms around him.

goblet of fire

when harry's name was pulled from that goblet, james surprised everyone by being fully and completely on your side, screaming in dumbledore's office with mcgonagall's backing, so loudly the owlery rustled every few minutes.

and when you finally accepted the situation, you were his most enthusiastic supporters, taking temporary residence up in hogsmeade and spending your weekends burning the 'potter stinks' badge.

"you can't beat up a child."

you scoffed, "james, i'm not going to beat him up. the malfoys weren't ever going to raise a nice kid, i don't blame him yet."

james hummed, nodding, "mhm, right, so why is your wand in your hand?"

you looked down at it with a sharp laugh, "this isn't beating him up."

order of the phoenix

admist the war, something you never wanted your son to experience, there was a tiny beacon of what you thought was hope.

harry's relationship problems - he did not consider them hope.

"so in short, i really like cho, but she's just broken up with cedric."

you hummed in thought, "i see. are you close with cedric, will it impact your friendship?"

harry groaned, thunking his head back onto the wall, "well, i really like him too. it's a classic bi crisis situation."

considering the triangle until it made both of your head's hurt, he threw his hands in the air, "alright, i'm putting this behind me and focusing on my o.w.ls, and throwing umbridge off a cliff."

james walked in at that moment and admonished him lightly, "c'mon harry, y'know your mum doesn't like you talking about teachers like that. even sniv- snape."

you snorted, "umbridge is a troll. actually, that's harsh... to trolls."

half blood prince

you and your husband were curled into balls on the sofa, laughing until tears burned on your face.

"half- oh merlin i can't!" you wheezed, coughing.

"prince! oh my, snivellous his royal highness!" james pushed his glasses aside as they grew misty from the condensation of his crying.

you gasped, "he called himself that. seriously."

harry mumbled, "actually, he still does."

and the laughter started all over again.

"also, i kissed ginny."

you bolted up, almost knocking heads with james, chanting at the same time, "knew it!"

deathly hallows

the battlefield was rough and shredded and covered in debris. many had been lost. other's changed for life by injuries. all traumatized by the destruction.

your son trembled in your arms for the first time in a year, exhausted and drained. for the most awful, wrenching, angry feeling in your life, you thought you'd lost him. dry screams had brought you to your knees. but he was here now. it was over.

"you're alright harry, you did so good, i'm so proud of you." you fought back your sob as your husband joined you sitting on the stairs.

families were embracing and mourning across the space, and in this moment, you had never appreciated your family so much.

you deserved this life.

taglist:

@anordinarymuse @ellora-brekker

[ikarisenpai]

Ghost Pains (Junkrat x f!reader)

Hey! How's it going? Me, I'm doing pretty alright! Decided to write a little bit and ended up with this beauty right here! I know this is my first Overwatch x Reader but I just wanted to give it a go and if you all like it, maybe write some more? I don't know... I'm pretty rusty so apology ahead of time if this is bad XD Its nearly 11am in the morning and I have yet to go to sleep, but here we are! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy! I am taking requests so fill free to send me all your guys ideas, if not enjoy and have a wonderful night/day! Peace! ~IkariSenpai

____________ Summary: Junkrat is having ghost pains and doesn't want to take his medication... Warnings: slight mention of sexual tension but its not fully in detail. Words: 1420 ____________

The ghost pains were back. 

Junkrat had been laying in bed for what felt like hours and honestly he wished it was hours than minutes. His arm and leg were withering in pain as he forgot to take his meds and place his ointment on before he took his afternoon nap. The poor Australian man crying as Roadhog asked if he should go get y/n and see if they could help with the pain. They, y/n, were technically the ones watching over Junkrat when he had moments like these, but of course Jamison said no and began crying even more in pain. It was like he wanted to feel the pain and not have to tell y/n all about how much he had fucked up and that he was sorry for not listening to her before he had laid down. His body was covered in sweat as he just wanted it all to pass so he could go on with his day.

“It will pass… it always has… I don’t need her here… promise.” Junkrat said as he was more talking to himself then he was to Roadhog who was sitting down next to him holding out what looked like a white cream container and a pill bottle.

“Will you do it yourself then?” Roadhog asked shaking the bottle and pushing the ointment towards him.

Junkrat shook his head, “I don’t need that icky stuff. Y/n only did it because she said it would make the pain go away. I don’t need it. I can handle it.” He said as he was trying to be the bigger man and not worry about the pain coursing through his arm and leg. He was an inventor and had dealt with many things that were worse than this. Hell, he even had bombs for crying out loud blow up in his face! He didn’t need no stinking ointment and pills to make this all go away! He was Jamison Fawkes. He didn’t need it at all!

“Come on Jamie… you know you need it.. Stop fighting with me.” Roadhog said as he was about to call y/n and see if she could deal with him. She always knew how to set the man straight. 

“I don’t need it! Now let’s go blow some stuff up!” Junkrat said as he tried his best to get out of bed. The young man swung his leg over the edge of the bed and made what he thought was a smart move, but ended up whimpering as he nearly fell out of bed because he moved too fast.

“Now you’ve done it.” Roadhog said as he sighed looking down at the man who was ass up on the floor. He picked him up delicately and placed him back on the bed. He handed Junkrat the pill and ointment hoping now that he knew he couldn’t go anywhere until he took it.

“I. Told. You. I. Don’t. Need. It.” Junkrat said through gritted teeth. He hated taking medication and hated that he had too because of his arm and leg, but with how much pain he was in he may have to cave and that honestly hurted Junkrat’s pride.

“Hey! I’m not staying long as I am going out with Tracer. I hope you two stay out of trouble!” y/n said as she poked her head into Junkrat’s room to tell the two she was just grabbing something and then leaving. Her body freezing in the doorway as she arched a brow, “Is everything alright in here?”

“No!”

“Yes!”

Both of the boys were giving mixed signals as y/n walked in and sat down on the bed looking over at her boyfriend, who was still in pain.

“Jamie, what’s wrong? Are you alright? Are you taking your medication like Ana said?” y/n asked as she looked at both his leg and arm and saw that it was red and burning. Almost as if she, herself, could feel his pain.

“Yes! I just took it before my nap and I feel all better.” Junkrat said as he looked over at Roadhog who was shaking his head.

“You aren’t lying to me, are you?” y/n asked as she arched a brow. She slowly pressed down on his leg as if to test the waters and as soon as she touched it Jamison cried in pain.

“Alright! Alright! I’m throwing a fit cause I don’t want to take it! It tastes funny and makes me feel sleepy when taking the pill! Please don’t make me take the pill!” Junkrat whined as Roadhog sighed, shaking his head more. 

“But Jamie, it helps you feel better. No more ghost pains.. Why can’t you just take it and be a good lad for me?” y/n said as she pouted her outer lip trying to get Junkrat to budge.

“Because I’m not a ‘good lad’. I’m bad, bad to the bone and there ain’t nothing you can do to stop me.” Junkrat said as y/n touched his shoulder making him whine once more, “FINE! You win! Just… stop touching me! It hurts!” 

Y/n smiled, “Thank you baby. Here let me help you.” and you started rubbing the ointment on his arm/shoulder hoping to help cool down the burning feeling he was having and to hopefully stop the pain.

“W-will you get my leg too?” Junkrat asked as he was a bit shy with this one. His cheeks glowed a bright pink as y/n looked up and smiled.

“Sure, just let me know when everything starts feeling better. I do want to hang out with Tracer, but I would much rather make sure my loving boyfriend is all goods before I head out.” y/n smiles brightly as Junkrat was one lucky dude for getting y/n to be his girlfriend.

“Thanks.” Junkrat replied as he laid on his back staring up at the ceiling. He felt y/n put the ointment on his leg and winced as it did sting a little, but it also brought pleasure as her hand slowly moved up his thigh and back down making sure that most of his leg was covered. His lower lip was trapped under his teeth as he was trying to ignore the hand that was touching him, but his other head decided to take matters in his own hands and popped up making Roadhog blush and leave while y/n chuckled and smiled.

“Seems to me your mind is in the gutter…” y/n remarked as she finished with the ointment and smiled at him trying to avoid his semi member cock in shorts. 

“S-sorry… your touch just felt nice and I guess I got carried away. Sorry.” Junkrat blushed as he silently cursed to himself, “You all done?” 

Y/n nodded her head, “Yeah, I’m all done.” She replied as she blushed now looking away.

“Sweet as, thanks a million, y/n.” Junkrat said as he stayed put in bed hoping y/n would leave. They hadn’t gone far into their relationship, but they were close enough that these moments happened all the time, y/n was just not ready yet and Junkrat respected her for that.

“Alright, well, I’ll be home around midnight. Don’t stay up for me, okay? You need your rest.” y/n said as Junkrat nodded his head. 

“Don’t have too much fun.” Junkrat retorted, smiling from ear to ear. He watched his girlfriend get up and head towards the door making her slow walk a tease. Her hips swaying as Junkrat called out to her making her pause and turn, “I-I love you…” the words echoed in the room as y/n stood there. Her heart raced in her chest as she couldn’t believe that he had said the 3 words she had been desperate to say since they started dating. 

“I-” y/n began as Junkrat blushed even more.

“If it's too soon! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to move too fast! I-” y/n walked back to him and leaned down kissing him. Her hand tangled in his blonde singed hair as they battled for dominance. Teeth clashing as one bit the other’s lip making the other moan. They went on what felt like forever, but alas, y/n pulled away as she smiled brightly at the man no longer in pain. 

“I love you too, Jamison, I love you too.” and headed out the door to go meet up with Tracer.

[acradelius]

Gender neutral reader having their first time with Junkrat?

"Easy On Me~"

Fandom: Overwatch / Overwatch 2

Pairing: Jamison Fawkes (Junkrat) x Reader

Rating: Lemon [🟡] (NSFW!)

Warnings/Mention Ofs: Nervous! Reader, First Time Sex (Not Necessarily Virgin Reader Though), Implied Slow Pace Foreplay, Implied Slow Pace Sex, Biting, Mentions of Praise, Aftercare

Word Count: 584 Words

Author's Note: Jamison would be difficult to write for as a soft sex partner, but I'm sure he'd make it work out somehow.

Thinking about sex, or even just having a brief thought about it, can be something nervewracking. Having a discussion, or even just briefly mentioning about sex can be perplexing. Yet, when it comes down to actually having sex? Especially when Jamison happens to be a tall, explosives-obsessed  freak who thrives on chaos and destruction. When practically anything and almost everything leads to him becoming aroused, he finds it difficult to control himself. Yeah, you could say that these thoughts did concern (Y/N) quite a bit, especially since it was supposed to be their first time with Jamison. Yet, little did (Y/N) know that Jamison had gone and sought out advice for this particular reason, and would do what he possibly could to make sure that they were comfortable. 

Jamison begins with starting off with a slow pace, which is quite obvious to tell that the slow pacing is quite unnatural for him, but he begins with heartfelt compliments followed by benign touches. His lips are gentle against the crooks of (Y/N)’s neck, teeth only nibbling at their shoulders and ears. He decides to retreat his touch further down (Y/N)’s body, only to hesitate and retreat his hands back to where they were previously at. He doesn’t want to move too quickly, doesn’t want to make (Y/N) more uncomfortable or anxious that they might already be. It’s becoming somewhat difficult for Jamison to keep this calm pace, (Y/N) feeling him practically trembling against them all while his erect cock was pressing against their backside.  

“What position would you like for us to start in? Would you prefer to be on the top or on the bottom? What pace would you like to start off at?” He questions (Y/N) when it starts to come down to the actual sex, not wanting to hurt them with how sporadic and chaotic he can get. Despite that he momentarily gets carried away by his own arousal and chasing his own pleasurable high, he finds himself focusing  more on (Y/N)’s wellbeing. He focuses on the words that leave their lips, the words that tell him what actions he’s doing makes them feel well, the words of praise of how he’s done so well taking care of them. Jamison focuses on the way that (Y/N)’s body moves against them, the way that their hips  grind up against his own as he thrusts into them or the way that (Y/N) drags their fingernails down his back, leaving scratches that will have to be tended to later. Despite that it’s not as eccentric as Jamison normally would have planned it to be, he’s still to make sure that they both cum~

While he’s not the absolute best when it comes to aftercare, Jamison knows at least the basics on what to do. He makes sure to take the moment to question (Y/N) about the experience: whether they liked it or not, what they think could be altered to make things better or what to do next time, overall if they are okay. Jamison makes sure to take care of (Y/N) by helping them into getting cleaned up whenever they are ready to do so, then treating them to their favorite drink and snack. In the end, despite that (Y/N) might not be as chaotic and eccentric as he might be, especially whenever it comes to sex, he’s perfectly fine as long as (Y/N)’s happy. 

[hollowwrites]

It is Weasley Wednesday My Dudes

I have a Garreth x MC story in the works but for now have this…trash.

No one can convince me otherwise but Garreth has a nickname for everyone…do not question me!!

Imelda - Broomelda or Impy

He read a book once about Norse Mythology and found the Germanic Warrior Brunhild. Something about the powerful Valkyrie and shield maiden reminded him of Imelda and once he’d found a way of shoehorning her name into it that was it:

Imelda: (taking off her flying gear after running another time trial)

Garreth: How are we this fine Thursday afternoon, Broomelda?

Imelda: (turns to stare at Garreth)

Garreth: You know…like Brunhild the-

Imelda: I know who she is

Garreth: See you have a Broom, not a sword…and your name is Imelda…Broom…Imelda…Broomelda

Imelda: …No

After that went badly he started calling her Impy, short and fiesty…could kill you. She likes that nickname

Sebastian - Brother (occasionally Shortie)

Sebastian is an inch shorter than Garreth, if that. Only breaks it out if Sebastian is being bratty or he really wants to wind him up. Started calling Sebastian ‘Brother’ in their second year after he got mildly upset at Anne and Garreth hanging out after Potions.

Now they just call each other brothers out of habit. Anne still gets a little red faced when she hears it and Garreth will never admit he still has a thing for Sebastians sister. Will joke about it constantly though.

Garreth: Please tell me you took notes in Potions

Sebastian: I did

Garreth: Oh thank you Brother!!

Sebastian: (Chuckles) Anytime

Ominis: Is that still happening? This brother ordeal I have to listen to?

Garreth: Well I have to practise for when me and my beloved are betrothed

Sebastian: Yeah yeah, take your notes and be gone

Garreth: (Sighing affectionately) I can’t wait to be Garreth Sallow

Sebastian: Enough thank you!

Garreth: Calm down Shortie (ruffles Sebastian’s hair)

Sebastian: (Sighs)

Poppy - Bumbles

Found Poppy sat amongst the beehives doing homework. She laughed at him when he jumped out of his skin rounding the corner, her Hufflepuff Uniform blending in with the hives around her. Once said the way she flits around the school chasing after beasts reminded him of a Bumblebee. Too much of a coincidence!

Poppy: (Bumping into Garreth in the hallways dropping her books) Ooof Sorry Garreth, can’t see past these books.

Garreth: No problem, Bumbles. Where are we going? I’ll help you carry some

Poppy: Just back to the dorms

Garreth: After you (following after Poppy quietly humming) bzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Poppy: (Giggles) Stop it you!!

Amit - Stargazer

Pretty obvious one. I imagine Amit and Garreth don’t speak very often, Garreth head down in a cauldron and Amit staring off into the sky, their interests don’t always align but he likes to make people feel included.

Amit: Ah Garreth, Professor Weasley, er…your Aunt is looking for you

Garreth: Ugh, Thank you Stargazer. You are My Knight in Shining Armour. (Turns on his heels and walks in the direction he just came, away from his Aunt)

Ominis - Opal Eyes

Another obvious one. Got caught staring into Ominis’ eyes once and blurted out that he thought they were beautiful like Opals. Rolled with it.

Ominis: Bloody Wiggenweld, AGAIN. I hate that blasted potion

Garreth: Oh, Opal Eyes (throwing an arm around his shoulder) How many times have I told you? Sit next to me and I’ll smuggle you some of mine.

Ominis: I’m already blind I don’t want to lose my sense of smell too

MC - Sparkles, Sparkler, Sparks ETC (Modern AU would deffo call them Palpatine)

Have you seen anyone else shoot lightning from their fingers? Didn’t think so. Immediately came up with the name as soon as he witnessed their Ancient Magic for the first time. Teases them every Guy Fawkes Night (Bonfire Night) for hogging all the fireworks in their fingers.

Garreth: Hey I’ve run out of Sparklers, can I borrow you…Sparkler?

MC: Har Har very funny Weasley

Garreth: (stands behind them scooping their hands in his, waving them around as if they were alight)

Bonus:

Leander - Tabby

Thinks his nickname is because he’s ginger. Garreth doesn’t have the heart to tell him; 1) Tabbies aren’t ginger and 2) it’s because he prances around acting like a lion when in actuality he’s a pussy cat.