#i miss her guys. i don’t like being alive without her

[ponderingmoonlight]

Hashira reader smacking Zenitsu and sending him to her crush Iguro to teach him a lesson

original idea and inspiration by none other than queen @sitarawrites and this post right here

Pairing: Obanai x fem!hashira! reader

Word Count: 1,1k

Warnings: Zenitsu being a creep and getting payback for it

„Please, you have to give me a chance!“

„Zenitsu, I think that’s enough-„

„You have to be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen! Let’s marry as long as we’re still alive!”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone, you creep?”

“I’m so so sorry for his behavior-“

“What’s going on here?”, you interrupt the little chit chat in front of you sharply.

You sign to yourself. Just like you expected, another wave of losers that just arrived. 2 girls, a few of those basic guys and…

You furrow your eyebrows, a wave of nauseous disgust getting a hold of you the second you see him. That blonde haired guy who looks at you as if you’re a piece of meat.

“Oh, who are-“

Without even allowing him so finish his sentence, you grab his blonde hair with one hand while smacking him flat-palmed with the other.

“Just let me make a few things clear before we’re even starting”, you hiss, mindlessly dropping his crying figure to the ground.

“If you didn’t catch it already, I’m a hashira and you are here to train under me. But I’m not like Mitsuri or my former master Himejima-sama. We won’t pray around here, we won’t laugh. But most important of all, don’t you dare to piss me off by disregarding me in some sort of way. Got it, Blondie?”

“I think he understood, (y/n)-san!”, the red-haired boy next to him shouts immediately while throwing his unconscious body over his shoulder.

“I know you’re still listening. If I catch you hitting on a corps member like that one more time, I’ll burry you under rocks before sending you over to Igoro-san”, you bark at the boy who again, screams out in sheer fright.

Apparently, his horrible behavior towards females isn’t the only annoying thing about that guy named Zenitsu. If it wasn’t for Kamado, he’d hide inside his room the whole day while crying his eyes out.

“I promise he acts different when he’s unconscious!”

“Do I have to slap him again, then?”

“YOU CAN’T DO THAT!”

Urgh. If it wasn’t for that crow sent by Ubayishiki-sama himself, you would have drowned that boy in the river nearby immediately. And that nice little interactions with a certain someone.

“If he doesn’t treat you right, send him my way. I’ll make sure he’ll never cry again.”

“Nice try Iguro-san. But Ubayishiki-sama forbid me to hurt him and I’m sure the same goes for you, unfortunately.”

“Is he still looking at you all the time? Then it might be worth it.”

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t. But if I catch him crying around like a baby one last time, I’ll send him to you personally.”

“I’ll take that as a promise, then.”

You smile to yourself while reading those well-written lines. Igoru-san…truth is, you definitely kept an eye open for him these past months. Out of all the hashira, he’s the only one you’re really keen to talk to.

“Ahhh, it’s so cold!”

“Zentisu, calm down. Don’t you remember what (y/n)-san told you about-“

“I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE! THIS IS LIVING HELL! THAT WOMAN IS THE DEVIL HERSELF! I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE TANJIRO!”

“Please calm down-“

“I’M SURE THE GIRLS AT THE BUTTERFLY ESTATE MISS ME, I’LL JUST RETURN TO AOI AND THE GIRLS-“

“You’re not going anywhere, you fool. I’m having enough of your bullshit”, you interrupt his pity party along with a harsh bow into his stomach that surely makes him see stars.

“I’m sending you to Iguro myself.”

Another well-placed hit, a passed out Zenitsu before you even get the chance to hit him.

“Please, allow me to go with you, (y/n)-san. I don’t think Zenitsu will survive the training of the serpent hashira on his own”, a gently voice speaks out next to you.

Urgh. You hate to even consider Tanjiro’s words. But there’s nothing you’re able to teach him anyway. No matter how much you hate to admit it, but that Kamado boy definitely is something special.

“Fine”, you grumble.

“But only because I want to get rid of you.”

“That’s totally fine! Thank you for teaching me hand to hand combat anyway!”

“Yeah, whatever. Just carry that prick and follow me.”

Your heart beats a little faster with every step you come nearer to the serpent hashira’s estate. How is he doing? Is he excited to see you, what will he say? You haven’t seen each other since the last hashira meeting, didn’t have the chance to speak properly since forever as it seems.

But now is your chance. When it means seeing Iguro-san, that douchebag did have a purpose after all.

“Did you take out the trash, (y/n)?”

Your breath gets stuck in your throat. You didn’t even sense him until he stands in front of you, both eyes set on you with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“I can’t take that whining baby anymore. Make sure to treat him right”, you explain briefly.

“Oh, and I took Kamado with me.”

“Tanjiro Kamado”, Iguro-san hisses, his eyes shooting pure venom Tanjiro’s way.

“Bring that useless boy inside and get some rest yourself, Kamado”, you instruct the boy next to you who springs into action immediately.

“He’s doing pretty well”, you mumble more to yourself than actually talking to Iguro-san.

“Doing pretty well?”

Faster than you’re able to react, you find yourself breathlessly pinned against a nearby tree with his eyes almost piercing trough you.

“I mean…yeah”, you breathe out.

“But I actually came here because I missed you”, you add with unusual low voice.

Is that blush creeping up your cheeks? The serpent hashira almost doesn’t believe his ears. You, missing him? He never thought you’d actually like him, that feelings like missing someone like him could actually exist. But you hold his gaze with reddened cheeks. And you’re here, between his arms.

“I…”

He kind find the words. In fact, it seems like his mind and body aren’t able to function normally anymore.

“I need to go”, he presses out.

“But Iguro-san, I-“

He’s gone as fast as he came, leaving yourself leaning against the tree like an idiot.

What was that?

-bonus-

“I’ll let you suffer for making (y/n) uncomfortable. Did you flirt with her?”

“W-what? Me? I’d never d-do that!”

“I’ll kill you-“

“Please don’t kill him Iguro-san!”

“I’ll kill you as well. You made eyes at (y/n)-san.”

“We’re so screwed”, Zenitsu hisses through gritted teeth.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine

[gigabyte-flare]

The Devil is Real (Part 1)

Summary: Your troubled older brother disappeared two years ago, vanishing without a trace; that is until one day you receive a letter from him. He’s living in Spain after having joined a religious group called Los Iluminados, his life seemingly changed for the better. He would love it if you came to visit him. Who are you to refuse an invitation from your beloved big brother, right?

Word Count: 4.2k

Pairing: plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: drug abuse mention, abusive household mention, religious cult, religious trauma, body horror, noncon, dubcon, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (m and f receiving), kidnapping, yandere tendencies, somno, extreme violence and gore, human sacrifice, murder, blood play/kink, breeding kink, pregnancy, pet names, stockholm syndrome, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future parts]

A/N: I want to give a shoutout to @d10nyx, who's bot heavily inspired this new series. I had been wanting to write plagas!Leon again for so long, but I wanted to do something I hadn't seen done before and my interaction with her bot planted the seed (breeding kink go brrrrrrrrrrrr). This will likely be my darkest series yet so if that's not your jam, I kindly ask that you keep scrolling. It should be noted that any of the Spanish seen in this series is either from my extremely vague recollection of the language from my youth or from Google translate, so I apologize if there's any weird grammar in any of the Spanish, it is not my intention to butcher the language.

I hope you guys like thrill rides :3

The title is inspired by Bad Things performed by I Prevail

April 22, 2008

Sis,

I apologize for this being the first time I’ve contacted you in two years, but I promise you, it was for good reason. I finally got help. I moved out to Spain to this lovely rural area called Valdelobos to live with this wonderful community called Los Iluminados. I’ve been sober for just over two years because of them. I would really love it if you came to visit, you would absolutely love it here, sis! I would love more than anything to share with you the community that has made such a huge difference in my life. I don’t have access to a computer, so you’ll have to send me a letter to reply. You can find the return address on the envelope. I eagerly await your letter!

With all my love,

Vince

You sit on your old saggy couch, gently holding the handwritten letter in your hands like it’s going to disintegrate. Your mind is in turmoil; your older brother Vincent, or Vince as most people call him, had disappeared about two years ago. He struggled with drug addiction when he reached adulthood, always chasing his next high. When you had reported him missing, police searched everywhere for him for weeks until you finally had to come to terms with the fact that he was most likely dead.

This letter, however, says otherwise.

“Who’s it from?” your boyfriend asks before sitting beside you, seeing the strained look on your face and growing concerned. 

You don’t answer him at first, your eyes locked on the weathered piece of paper. Realizing your boyfriend, Mark, had asked you a question, you blink a few times and shake your head, snapping yourself out of the shocked daze.

“It’s from Vince,” you reply, looking over at Mark.

Mark looks at the paper you’re holding, then back to you, “are you sure it’s from Vince?”

“Of course I’m sure! That is definitely his handwriting. He’s alive!” 

You hand the letter to Mark, who takes a moment to read the letter himself, adjusting his glasses as he does so, “he wants you to go visit. What are you going to do?”

“I have no idea…” you say softly, burying your face in your hands as you continue to struggle with your emotions.

Growing up, all you had was your brother, having lost your parents at a young age. Growing up, the both of you lived with your grandparents, but they were very abusive. As soon as Vince had turned 18, he fought to become your legal guardian and the two of you moved out. Unfortunately, Vince had turned to drugs to deal with his trauma, but could you blame him? Your grandfather was especially hard on Vince; there were many nights you could remember falling asleep to the sounds of the two of them shouting and throwing things at each other. 

There’s a ten year gap between you and your brother, so naturally Vince had become something of a father figure to you, especially considering you were only two when your parents had died. A car accident you had been told; hit by a drunk driver on the way home from a New Year’s party. You felt like life always dealt you a shitty hand. First your parents, then your brother. But now, your brother seems to be back and he’s ok; he’s sober. You should be happy, so why are you so conflicted?

“I’m going to do some research on this ‘Los Iluminados’ group,” you finally say before standing up from the couch to walk into your bedroom, “make sure it isn’t some Jim Jones bullshit…”

“I’ll get dinner started then,” Mark says, also standing up, making his way over to the kitchen, “I’ll holler when dinner’s ready.”

You nod at Mark before walking into the bedroom, sitting down at your desk in the corner of the room, opening your laptop and powering it on. You open up Internet Explorer and open a new Google search window, typing in Los Iluminados which unsurprisingly yielded zero results; with them not having computer access, it makes sense that there’s no trace of this group on the internet by searching their name. You then search cults in Spain and skim through the results. Again, there’s no mention of Los Iluminados anywhere. Drumming your fingers on your desk, you begin to question the letter’s legitimacy. Whoever sent it knew where you lived and that your brother had been missing for two years. No one would go through that much trouble just to prank someone. 

“Babe, dinner’s ready!” you hear Mark call from the kitchen. 

Letting out a sigh, you reluctantly stand up from your desk, walking out of the bedroom to join your boyfriend in the living room, who just finished putting both your plates down onto the coffee table. Laying in the middle of the living room, your 8 year old brindle English Mastiff, André, lifts his head lazily, sniffing the air upon smelling food. You can’t help but let out a chuckle as you sit down on the couch, grabbing your plate to start eating.

“Even in his old age, André has a one track mind,” Mark says, watching as the large dog gets up from the floor. Mark gently pats him on the head, “don’t you buddy?”

“He sure does,” you reply, reaching over to pat the gentle giant before returning to your meal.

“Were you able to find anything on that group in the letter?” Mark asks, looking over at you before taking a bite of food. 

“Not a damn thing. Which I guess makes sense but still…” you say, your voice trailing off as you let out a heavy sigh, “something about it just doesn’t sit well with me.”

“Then we go to Spain, find out if this group is real or not and bounce if it’s just a wild goose chase,” Mark says, weaving his left hand through the air as he speaks.

“And who’s going to watch André?” 

André’s big brown eyes look between the two of you, letting out a soft whimper. Mark mouths the word ‘fuck’ before taking another bite of dinner.

“Right,” Mark says quietly, giving André another pat on the head.

The two of you finish eating dinner in silence, afterwards helping each other clean up the dishes. You let Mark know that you’re going to write a response to Vince’s letter, heading back up to the bedroom to sit back at the desk, pulling out a notebook and a pencil.

May 15, 2008

Vince,

First, I just want to say I am relieved to see that you’re ok and that you’re doing better. You had dropped off the face of the earth and I couldn’t find you anywhere; I thought you were dead! I’m so incredibly glad I was wrong. And, of course, congratulations are in order for your two years of sobriety. I know that’s something you really struggled with and I’m glad this community was able to help you. Is it a religious group? I think Los Iluminados roughly translates to “The Enlightened Ones” if my vague recollection of Spanish serves me right. Regardless, I would love to come visit you and see where you’ve been living these past two years, just let me know where I need to go.

Sis

May 31, 2008

Sis,

I was so excited to see you had written back that I practically ripped the envelope open. Los Iluminados is a small religious community and, I know what you’re thinking, it’s not a cult, so you have nothing to worry about there. They’re really big on living a traditional, almost pagan-like lifestyle and for me, being able to unplug while I got better was exactly what I needed. I’m hoping after experiencing Los Iluminados yourself that you’ll feel the same. As far as getting you here goes, you’ll want to fly into Valencia Airport, we’ll come pick you up from there. Call the enclosed number once you have your flight booked and tell Maria what day you’re coming. I’m looking forward to seeing you!

Vince

You tuck the letter back in your carry on bag, leaning back in your seat on the airplane and closing your eyes. You land in Valencia Airport in less than an hour and you are doing everything in your power to keep your nerves in check and not get your hopes up. You did as Vince had asked, you called this woman named Maria and with really broken Spanish, you had told her you were flying in on June 17th. At some point you must have dozed off because you’re jolted awake when the plane lands on the tarmac.

The plane pulls into the dock and you along with the other passengers file out. You head down to baggage claim to grab your luggage; you had packed about a week’s worth of clothes since you didn’t know how long you were staying. You low key were hoping to talk your brother into coming back to the States with you, but that’s a bridge you’ll cross when you get there. That thought is far from your mind, however, when you get through airport security and immediately spot your brother holding a large sign with your name on it. Your mouth hangs agape as you stop in your tracks. The last time you had seen him, he was a 33 year old who looked almost 50 due to his years of drug abuse. Now? He has color in his face, he’s gained weight and actually looks healthy. His clothes are a little disheveled and covered in dirt, but he’s smiling, probably the first time you’ve seen him smile since you were children.

Dropping your luggage, you run over to your brother, throwing your arms around him and hugging him tight, tears freely flowing from your eyes as you cry out, “it’s you, you’re real! You’re alive!”

Vince tightly hugs you back, rocking you both back and forth before stepping back, smiling down at you as his hands remain on your shoulders, “look at you! All grown up; 25 has treated you nicely!”

You playfully scoff before walking back to grab your luggage, “hardly.”

You return to Vince, who then takes your luggage from you as the two of you begin to walk out of the airport, “how’s Mark? You two are still together, I take it?”

“We are! He’s doing good, he’s at home watching André.”

“André is still around? That’s nice to hear!” Vince says as the two of you walk up to a very beat up looking sedan, “here’s our luxury limousine!”

You playfully smack him with the back of your hand, “very funny, Vince.”

You watch as Vince opens the trunk of the sedan, putting your luggage inside, he looks up at you as he closes the trunk, “go ahead and get in the back seat, Sis.”

You nod in acknowledgement, climbing into the back seat, your brother joining you shortly after. An older couple sits in the driver’s and passenger’s sides of the sedan, promptly driving away from the airport once you and your brother put your seatbelts on. 

“We have about a three hour drive ahead of us, you must be exhausted from your flight,” Vince says, looking over at you and giving you a warm smile.

You nod, feeling your eyes grow heavy from jet lag, however you force your eyes to stay open; you desperately don’t want to miss a single moment with your brother.

“Hey,” Vince lays a hand on your shoulder, “it’s ok, get some rest, I’ll wake you up when we get close to the village.”

“If you say so…” you reply softly. 

You hesitantly let your eyes close, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. It feels like only a moment has passed when Vince shakes you awake.

“Hey Sis, we’re here!”

After getting out of the car, there was still a considerable hike until you got to the village proper. Once getting there, however, you find yourself pleasantly surprised. You weren't sure what you were expecting of a small village at the center of a religious community but what you’re seeing wasn’t it. It is a bonafide village, with actual houses, a town center, a watchtower and a large brick structure towards the back. In the distance, you can see a windmill slowly spinning. You chalk it up to the large number of documentaries you had watched on cults leading up to this trip that painted a picture in your mind of what this village would look like; the small, white cottages of People’s Temple immediately coming to mind. A part of you is glad you were wrong.

“So, what do you think?” Vince asks me, gesturing one of his hands towards the village, “this is where I’ve been these last two years.”

“It’s nothing like what I expected, it’s… honestly really peaceful,” you reply, looking around the village in awe.

You watch as several of the other villagers stop what they’re doing to look at you and your brother, an older woman over by a well giving both of you a warm smile before pulling a bucket of water up from the well.

“My house is over here,” Vince continues, pointing to one of the houses on the left before leading you towards it. 

Vince’s house sits next to the watchtower, he opens the door and walks inside. Before you enter, you happen to turn around and look towards the large brick building in the back of the village. Standing at the door is someone wearing a black cloak with gold trim, underneath his clothes you can tell he’s wearing cargo pants and a tight fitting athletic shirt of some kind. But that’s not what grabs your attention; it’s his azure eyes locked on you, causing your blood to run cold.

“Vince,” you say, your voice trembling as you reach to grab his wrist, stopping him, “who is that over there?”

Vince turns to look where you’re looking, letting out a soft chuckle once he sees who you’re looking at, “him? That’s just Leon. He’s the right hand of our Lord Saddler. He’s probably here to check on things, don’t worry about him. Come inside.”

Vince practically pulls you, shutting and barring the door shut once you’re inside.

“Why are you blocking the door?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as your brother turns to face you.

“We tend to have an open door policy in the village. Where you and I haven’t seen each other for awhile, I figured it’d be best to have some privacy, wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod as you take in your surroundings. There’s a staircase leading upstairs and around the corner, a dining table and a kitchen area. Several candles are burning; they definitely don’t have electricity and running water in this village. Behind your brother is a worn couch.

“Is that where I’m sleeping?” you ask, pointing at the couch.

“Nope, you get the bed upstairs. I can live with the couch for a while. Nothing but the best for my little sis.”

“Thanks Vince,” you reply, grabbing your luggage, “I’ll bring this upstairs, then maybe we can talk. You know… catch up.”

You grab your luggage, dragging it up the stairs. You spot the bed at the end of the bannister next to a window overlooking the village center. As you’re staring out the window, you spot the cloaked man, Leon, again. He’s standing in the center of town, looking right at you. It sends a chill down your spine. You turn around and scream a little when your brother taps you on the shoulder.

“You ok? You weren’t answering me,” Vince says, his face full of concern.

“Sorry… it’s that guy. He’s right down there staring at the window,” you reply, turning to point out the window, however, Leon is gone, “oh, nevermind. It must have been my imagination.”

“He’s like… a guard dog of sorts. He’s probably just making sure you’re chill,” Vince explains, gently grabbing you by your upper arm and leading you back downstairs, “he’s like that with anyone he doesn’t know.”

“Right, of course…” you’re still uneasy, but decide to trust your brother.

“I’ll get started on dinner, have a seat at the table,” says Vince before walking over to the large wood stove, which is already aflame.

“Can I help with anything?” you ask, still standing by the table.

“No, I got it. Been doing this for two years. I can handle it. You’re the guest of honor, you just sit back, relax and let your brother take care of you.”

While your brother prepares dinner for the two of you, you make small talk, getting him caught up on the two years worth of stuff he missed. You told him about Mark and André, told him that your horrendous grandfather finally passed away a year ago; you had caught a smirk on Vince’s face before he turned his attention back to making dinner. Once dinner is finished, he sets both plates down at the table and the two of you dig in.

“Earlier you had said Lord Saddler,” you begin, taking a bite of food before continuing, “Vince… are you sure this isn’t a cult?”

Your brother bursts out laughing, reaching over to put his hand on yours to comfort you, “Lord Osmund Saddler is the patriarch of Los Iluminados and the speaker for the Holy Body. I’m not held here against my will. I promise you with every fiber of my being, this isn’t a cult, Sis.”

“I’m sorry I just… I may have watched a bunch of documentaries before coming here on cults and I just want what’s best for you, that’s all.”

Vince smiles, “Don’t worry, no one is going to drink any Kool Aid here.”

“Vince, that’s terrible!” you playfully smack him, “also it wasn’t even Kool Aid!”

You can’t help but laugh, slowly letting your mind be at ease. It’s clear your brother is happy and healthy here in this village. Before you can continue your conversation with Vince, you hear the chime of a church bell in the distance and you watch as your brother immediately stands up.

“What’s that all about?” you ask, slowly standing up. 

“That is the sound of evening service. Come! I’d love for you to see one of Father Méndez’s services.”

Taking your hand, Vince unblocks the door and takes you outside. You see all the villages are filling into the large brick building you had seen Leon standing in front of earlier.

“That’s the meeting house, we have to pass through it to get to the church,” he explains to you as he leads you to follow the other villagers inside the building. 

Upon walking in there is a large room, shelves of food and supplies lining the walls. In the back of the room was a large painting of a robed man; not Leon, but someone else, Vince notices you staring at the painting.

“That is our Lord Saddler. Hopefully you’ll get to meet him during your visit; he’s a wonderful patriarch, I think you’ll like him.”

There is something about the painting that unsettles you, but you can’t put your finger on it; nor do you have time to because before you know it, Vince is leading you into the adjacent room. This room has a large table lined with chairs on both sides. You both proceed around the table exiting out of the door on the other side with the other villagers. The door takes you out to a winding path which opens up to a cemetery with the church sitting just at the top of the hill.

You and your brother make your way up the hill, following the rest of the villagers into the church where you and your brother sit in one of the pews in the middle. There is an extremely tall man standing at the altar, wearing a black leather trench coat and a large brim hat. His dark beard has subtle white hairs, indicating to you that he’s much older than you and your brother. In fact, now that you think about it, you realize you and your brother are probably the youngest ones in the church.

Behind the imposing man is a large stained glass window decorated with red, blue, green and white. The white glass makes a pattern. You’re not sure what to make of it; it’s almost like a crude insect-like cross with four appendage-like parts extended out with a tail pointing downwards. Once everyone is seated in the pews, the man at the altar addresses the villagers.

“My brothers and sisters,” the man begins, his Hispanic accent thick, “before we begin tonight’s sermon, I wanted to welcome the visitor that Vincent has brought to visit our village.” The man gestures one of his hands towards us, “if you would do the honors, Vincent.”

Your brother stands up, “Gracias, Father Méndez. This is my younger sister,” he says before telling everyone your name, “she’ll be staying with me for a while, we haven’t seen each other since I first came here. I hope you all can join me in showing her what makes Los Iluminados a special community.”

The other villagers clap softly as Vince sits back down. After that, Father Méndez begins the service, which is in Spanish, so you strained your brain to try to pick up bits and pieces of what he’s saying. This doesn’t last long, however as your eye catches movement in the darkness in the back of the church. You feel your heart skip; it’s Leon again, his azure gaze once again locked on you. His expression is cold and emotionless, but there is no doubt in your mind that he is staring at you. 

As if sensing your unease, your brother nudges you with his elbow and whispers, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s Leon again…” you reply, nodding your head in Leon’s direction.

Vince’s gaze follows yours, spotting Leon staring at you from the back of the church. Vince lets out a soft sigh.

“I’ll talk to Father Méndez after the service.”

For the rest of the service, you steal glances towards the back of the church, where Leon remains, still staring at you. At the end of the service, however, when you look back, Leon is finally gone, much to your relief. 

Father Méndez’s booming voice draws your attention back to him, “¡Gloria a Las Plagas!”

“¡Gloria a Las Plagas!” the villagers, including Vince, repeat back.

Gloria a Las… Plagas? you think to yourself, glory to the… plague? Plagues? Pests? What? That makes no sense…

Before you can think it over further, your brother stands up abruptly, pulling you up with him.

“Pablo,” Vince says as he approaches another villager, “¿Puedes llevar a mi hermana de regreso a mi casa? Tengo que hablar con el padre Méndez.”

The man nods, “sí, claro.”

Vince turns his attention back to you, “Pablo here is going to take you back to my house while I talk to Father Méndez about Leon, ok? I won’t be long.”

“Alright, thanks Vince,” you reply as Pablo gently takes you by your upper arm, leading you out of the church.

You turn back, watching your brother approach Father Méndez before the church doors close behind you.

“Vincent,” Méndez begins as Vince approaches him, “what can I do for you, my brother?”

“It’s about Leon,” Vince says, crossing his arms, “I want him to leave my sister alone.”

“What do you mean? You do remember what you agreed to, no?” Méndez presses straightening his posture.

“I do remember, but he is scaring her. All he’s done since she got here is stare at her.”

“And? Are you saying you’re defying the will of Lord Saddler?”

“No, of course not!” Vince exclaims before lowering his voice, “but if we want any chance of her staying in Los Iluminados, he needs to chill out with the staring, ok? Is that too much to ask, Father?”

Méndez brings a hand to his beard, stroking it as he contemplates Vince’s request. After a few moments, he gently nods, “fine. I will speak with Lord Saddler on this.”

“Thank you, Father.”

She is perfect.

Leon stands at the end of the bed that you’re sleeping in, completely oblivious to his presence. Bringing his hands up, he lowers the hood of his cloak. The exposed skin on his neck and face are completely covered in inky black veins and seem to pulse under his skin. He gently crawls onto the bed, being careful not to wake you as he cages you with his body.

Leaning down so that his nose is nearly pressed against the side of your neck, he breathes in your scent deeply, opening his mouth slightly to lick his sharpened incisors with his tongue. He moves away from your neck, staring down at you as he watches your chest rise and fall gently as you slumber. Unable to help himself, he leans back down, his lips hovering above yours when he hears the unmistakable sound of the front door opening downstairs.

His head snaps towards the stairs, crawling off your bed with the grace and stealth of a panther. He brings his hood back up over his head, walking silently over to the open window at the head of the stairs where he had let himself in, climbing out and shutting the window carefully behind him, not leaving a single trace that he was even there.

Part 2

[heliads]

Can you do Peter Pan x reader OUAT? Peter goes to the modern world with Emma, Snow, David and them as they are looking for someone. He meets this girl and takes an interest to her. He’s never seen someone with facial piercings, and dyed hair before, they come to realize she is the girl they’ve been looking for.

'magic finds magic' - peter pan

masterlist

Peter Pan is leaving Neverland. Worse, he’s leaving Neverland alongside Snow, Emma, David, and Hook. In terms of traveling partners, this has got to be the lowest of the low. However, the sand in Peter’s immortal hourglass is running out, and his first attempt at prolonging his life with the heart of Henry Mills didn’t exactly go according to plan. It’s this or nothing, even though Peter is starting to wonder if it would be better to just die than put up with these people any longer.

Never in his life did Peter Pan think he’d be working with the good guys. But never in his life did Peter think he’d be dying, either. A few compromises will have to be made in the name of preserving Peter’s everlasting life, and if that means he has to put up with some princesses and pirates for a few days, so be it. In no time at all, his immortal life will be restored, and he can go back to Neverland and put all of this behind him. Hopefully.

Peter was supposed to die back on Neverland. He was running out of time, anyway. He had set up the perfect scheme:  kidnap Henry, disorient the boy’s rescuers on his island long enough to win the Heart of the Truest Believer, and cut the organ out of the boy’s chest if necessary. He’d almost gotten away with it, too, except he was foiled at the last minute. Heartbreaking. So unlike him.

For some reason, though, he hadn’t been left to die in the caverns of Skull Rock. Emma and the others had needed him, for some odd reason, and although none of them trust him in the slightest, they do trust Peter’s single-minded selfishness to keep himself alive. So they claim, at least, and so they had gotten a spell to give Peter one more week of life in exchange for help. If this plan works out, Peter will have a way to continue his immortal life without needing to murder Henry. If it doesn’t, or if he betrays them, he’ll die anyway.

He can feel it now, the pang of his close call with death. There’s a pain in his chest that wasn’t there before, a certain weakness in his lungs. Peter gets tired more easily. He feels– well, he feels like Henry and Emma. He feels mortal. Like he could die at any moment.

Peter has, obviously, thought about double-crossing them, maybe even triple-crossing them, but it’s no use. He feels shakily mortal right now, and Peter does not much enjoy the possibility of his own demise. This is the closest he’s ever come to being beaten, and Peter hates the feeling. He’ll have to play along for now, but after that, he will have his revenge.

First, though, Peter has to do what the others want. They’ve been careful to reveal as few details to him as possible, but the idea is solid. There’s a magical person somewhere in the modern world, in a city far from Storybrooke. This person is like the embodiment of a true love’s kiss spell, designed to renew hope in storybook characters through small acts of power that ultimately drive two needed people together. They’re like a guardian angel of those on the brink of destruction, which is exactly what Peter needs right now.

Peter has plenty of time to mull this over. They’ve forced him into a terrible, small room with awful carpets– an apartment, Emma called it– while they talk out what to do with both him and their missing spell-person. Peter is trying to focus, but he’s getting stared at by Henry Mills again, which is absolutely ruining his mood.

“What do you want?” Peter asks, glaring at the boy.

Henry just goggles back at him. “Don’t you feel bad for trying to kill me?”

Peter snorts. “Why would I do that?”

Henry shrugs. “You pretended you were my friend. I know you like the other Lost Boys on your island, I thought you would have felt bad for killing one of them. I guess not.”

“I don’t feel bad about killing someone so I would live,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s arguing with a child. “Go preach your morals to someone who wants to listen.”

“The others are busy,” Henry pouts.

Peter eyes him unhappily. “And what, I’m your best option for polite conversation? You really are desperate, aren’t you?”

Henry rolls his eyes. “I’d say you’re desperate. You’re the one who’s still talking to me.”

Peter can’t really argue with that, so he deftly changes the topic of conversation before Henry starts looking proud of himself again. “Tell me about our target again. You said you saw them before?”

“Only in a dream,” Henry admits, “but it was a clear dream, I swear. I saw a girl who looked about your age. She seemed like any other teenager, but there was something about her that was different. The way she spoke, maybe, or the glint in her eyes. She was magical, I’m sure of it. She can save Storybrooke.”

“And save me,” Peter reminds him. “That’s the important part.”

Henry rolls his eyes again. If he keeps that up, they’re going to get stuck like that forever. “Yes, I know, you’re only interested in keeping yourself alive. So long as it helps us find this girl, though, I don’t care.”

Peter leans forward. “What’s your plan for finding this girl, then? A little scouting party? This city is big. You’ll never find her.”

Henry shakes his head. “Magic has a way of finding magic. Somehow, our paths will cross.”

“That’s a terrible strategy,” Peter grouses. Why is he entrusting his life to this boy again? He remembers something about having no other options, but it doesn’t seem as good an excuse right now.

“Ask the adults, then,” Henry tells him, and gestures towards the miniscule apartment kitchen, where Emma, Snow, Hook, and David are currently huddled around a table, talking in hushed voices about what to do.

Not wanting to mess with the kid anymore, Peter pulls himself to his feet and heads over. “Tell me you have a plan,” he says.

The adults look up at him. “Find the girl,” Hook says shortly. “That’s our plan.”

Peter scoffs. “You could search this city for months and not find her. What if she doesn’t want to be found? If this girl has any brains at all, she’ll know that people will want her magic and she’ll hide. It’s what I would do.”

Emma sighs. “We don’t even know if this girl knows that she has magic. She’s probably just living an ordinary life, and we’re about to drag her out of it with all of our trouble.”

“Don’t tell me you feel bad for her,” Peter scolds her. “You want this, don’t you? So go get it, or I will.”

Snow tries to tell him to calm down, but David, so quick to anger when it comes to Peter, surges out of his chair. “How about you do something helpful and think with us instead of just insulting us?”

“I will do something helpful,” Peter informs him. “I’ll find her first.”

With that, he lunges for the apartment door, and is out of the tiny room and down the hall before they can stop him. Peter hears the thunder of footsteps after him, but he hurries down the stairs and out of the building. He has the advantage of being quick on his feet; if Neverland taught him anything, it’s how to run when you don’t want to be found.

Peter emerges into the bright sunshine of the city and stops dead in his tracks. He’s not used to the modern world, how the knives of its buildings slash up into the sky, how loud it is with those cars and signs and people. Peter swears he can even see metal things in the sky, soaring along predestined paths. It’s all so much compared to the world he used to know. No wonder some of the others had a hard time adjusting. His mortal heart lets out a pang of sympathy.

The door of the apartment building flies open, revealing Emma and the others hot on his trail. Peter curses under his breath and takes off in one direction, hurtling around pedestrians and shooting down the sidewalk. He heads for smaller streets, hoping to lose them in a swarm of alleyways. The others, more used to the terrain of the modern city, are gaining on him, and Peter is just starting to think that he’ll never be able to shake them when someone grabs him and pulls him into a nearby building.

Peter’s first instinct is to defend himself, but when he isn’t attacked, he realizes that the stranger is only trying to help him. There’s a window just to his left, and Peter watches Emma and the others appear seconds after him. They didn’t see him enter the shop, and keep sprinting down the road in the direction they thought he’d gone. Peter waits a few more intense moments, then decides that he’s lost them for good and turns back around to see who’s gone to the trouble of rescuing him.

He’s greeted with the sight of a girl about his age. She’s eyeing him cautiously, although the corners of her lips begin to prick up with a wicked grin. “Sorry for the rough introduction, but you looked like you needed some help,” she tells him.

Peter lets out a short laugh. “I’m glad to be rid of them, that’s for sure.”

The girl arches a brow. “What, did they catch you shoplifting? I’ve never seen people run that fast unless they were getting chased by the cops.”

Peter narrows his eyes, trying to figure out how on earth he would lift a shop, then decides it’s probably some slang term he doesn’t know. “Something like that,” he says evasively.

He studies the girl’s face to see if he’d answered correctly, and, judging by her impressed grin, he had. “Nice,” she says. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Peter,” he replies. He gets the urge to introduce himself as he usually would– Peter, Peter Pan– then remembers at the last second that Emma had warned him about telling people who he was. Apparently, telling people he was a fictional character in their world wouldn’t go over too well.

“Peter,” the girl repeats. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Peter says, and realizes belatedly that he means it. He feels like how he had at the start of it all, when the Lost Boys had first started appearing on this island, but this feeling is far stronger. He wants to get to know this girl. He certainly doesn’t want her to leave.

“I’m new to the city,” he says abruptly. “Any chance you could show me around?”

Y/N laughs, surprised. “You’re new and you’re already in trouble? You’ll fit right in, Peter.”

He grins, in on the joke a half beat late. “I like to have fun, that’s all.”

“Well,” Y/N says, starting to lead him back towards the door of the shop, “I like fun, too. Maybe we should stick together.”

“I’d like that,” Peter says, then wonders why he’s being so honest all of a sudden. When he sees Y/N’s smile– real this time, not sarcastic or joking, but genuinely because of him– he thinks he knows why.

The two of them step back out into the light. “Where to first?” Peter asks.

“I was going to ask you that,” Y/N replies. “What do you want to do? Sightseeing, maybe? We can get some food, or just talk.”

“Anything,” he says. He’d follow her anywhere. The feeling in him right now is like nothing he’s ever felt before. The pain in his chest, Peter realizes with some surprise, is gone. He feels immortal. Like living in this one moment could last forever.

They end up spending the next few hours together. Y/N shows him around the city, taking Peter to her favorite spots. Peter stares at the vast cityscape and finally starts to understand why someone might choose the modern world over the natural one. He’ll always pick Neverland first, of course, but seeing the world through Y/N’s eyes, it makes sense.

The two of them get along like a house on fire. Y/N’s got this rebellious streak to her that fits in perfectly with Peter’s, well, Peter-ness. No joke is too dark, no sarcastic comment too caustic. They feel the same. Peter doesn’t think he’s ever met someone who thinks so much like him.

As the sun starts to set in the sky, Peter feels his spirits sinking. He doesn’t want to let go of this day, not when he knows it can never happen again. He’s supposed to be finding Henry’s spell-girl, but all Peter wants to do is spend more time with Y/N.

His mood is especially ruined when they turn a corner and find Henry Mills walking towards them. Peter’s eyes widen and he tries to steer Y/N back in the direction they’d come, but it’s too late. Henry lets out an audible gasp and starts hurrying towards them.

“Peter,” Henry calls out when he’s close enough to talk, “We’ve been looking for you all over! Where have you been?”

Y/N glances at Henry dubiously. “Who’s this?”

“My little brother,” Peter blurts out.

At the same time, Henry chimes in, “My friend from school.”

Peter shoots the younger boy a quick glare, then turns back to Y/N. “Both, actually. He’s my step-brother. Recent marriage. We’re still getting acclimated. Our family is a little chaotic.”

“You can say that again,” Henry mumbles. Peter fights the urge to butcher him.

While Peter silently advises himself on why murder would be bad at a time like this, Henry stares openly at Y/N. All of a sudden, the boy’s mouth hangs open. “Oh my gosh, it’s you.”

Y/N’s brow furrows. “Excuse me?”

All of a sudden, Peter feels a sick sensation in his stomach. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t.

“You’re the girl from my dream,” Henry announces. “We’ve been looking for you.”

Y/N looks back at Peter. “What’s he talking about?”

The open, carefree expression, which had been on her face all day, is starting to be replaced with deep, unsettled fear. Peter hates to see it directed at him. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he begins. “Something about yourself.”

“You’re sounding a little creepy right now,” Y/N warns him. “Get to the point.”

“Alright,” Peter says. “You’re magical. So am I. We need your help to break a curse and save my life. How about that?”

Y/N shakes her head quickly. “This is crazy. Magic isn’t real.”

Peter can’t lose her, not like this, so he leans forward and holds out his hand. A ball of light appears inside his cupped fingers, glowing and bright. It’s a simple charm, one of the first he learned, but it has the desired effect. 

Y/N stares at it, transfixed, and when she speaks again, her voice is hushed. “That’s impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible,” Peter says. “Not magic. Not even the fact that you would find me in this city by accident. Magic is drawn to magic.”

Y/N’s eyes slowly raise to meet his. “This is real, then. I have magic.”

“You have magic,” Peter confirms. “Come with us, we can show you. They’re good people, Y/N. You can trust them.”

It’s the closest he’s ever come to honesty. For once, Peter isn’t playing a game. He isn’t trying to trick Y/N over to his side. He just wants her to be safe, and he knows that isn’t through lies.

Y/N smiles at him. “I trust you, Peter. That’s enough for me.”

She reaches over and takes his hand. Now that he’s focusing on it, Peter can feel the slow loop of her magic when they touch. It feels like power, but more than that, it feels like life. A life with her, maybe. A life for both of them.

ouat tag list: @loveanimals0000, @eclliipsed, @w1shes43, @lost-ender

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Scars To Your Beautiful - James Potter

A/N: I have no idea how I was able to finish this xD thank you @captainlunaxmen for all your help! I hope yo loves like this :)

Request - @nix-rose asked: What about a James Potter x Black!Reader (if reader can have some personality: extrovert, loyal, gryffindor but could probably be a slytherin, just a happy person, definitely rough and tumble but still enjoys looking cute-) “Have you… Always been this beautiful?” “…That’s so cheesy even for your standards.”

Warnings: reader is really insecure, mentions of abusive parents, James protecting you from a creep (nothing to explicit though) also, this isn't proofread :D

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D  

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Scars To Your Beautiful

But there's a hope that's waiting for you in the dark You should know you're beautiful just the way you are And you don't have to change a thing, The world could change its heart No scars to your beautiful, we're stars and we're beautiful

The ‘other Black’. That's how you were known in Hogwarts. 

You knew your family wasn’t perfect. As much as they all like to make it seem that way, it was very much far from it. Being part of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black brought a lot of pressure with it, but you were used to it by now. And, deep down, you loved your family. At least your brothers and your cousins. Well, two of your cousins, you were always pretty terrified of Bellatrix after she enchanted all of hers and her sisters’ ancient creepy dolls to come alive and it still terrified you to your very core today. But you loved Andromeda and Narcissa, even if the latter was now spending all of her time with Lucius Malfoy and you saw less and less of her. 

Even if you’d never admit it, you were always a bit envious of them. Not in a bad way, you just… wondered a little how it would feel to be like them. You remembered guys literally fighting to get your cousins’ attention. And not a day went by without you having to hear at least ten different people saying how gorgeous your brothers were. 

And then, there was you. You had a respectable reputation since you were part of the Black family. But it sometimes felt like you weren’t worthy enough to be part of it. You’ve sometimes noticed some guys staring at you a bit too long. And you’ve gone out with a few guys before. But you’ve also had people come to you specifically to get closer to one of your relatives. And nobody had referred to you as beautiful. Well, no one, except…

“Hey, beautiful” you heard that very familiar voice standing next to you. 

“Potter” you smirked. 

“Going to the match today?” 

“The Slytherin-Gryffindor match?” you smiled. “Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world” you told him. 

“Good, cause I need my good luck charm” he said as the two of you walked to the Great Hall. 

“Exactly, how does that work, Potter? Because I’m not really rooting for your team” you reminded him and he scoffed, pretending to be offended. 

“But of course you are, your brother plays on my team-”

“My other brother plays for my team” you interrupted. 

“Well, maybe not the team but… I’m sure you like the Gryffindor captain more than Slytherin’s” he smiled sweetly at you. 

“Well, you got me there, Potter” you admitted. 

“Promise you’ll come to the party when we win?” he asked as you entered the Great Hall and you knew you would separate. 

“That’s a lot of talk, Potter” you smirked but he offered his pinky to you. You rolled your eyes but you took it. “Never speak of this” you told him.

“See you there, beautiful” he said before he saw you walk to your table. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Here” you said, sitting down next to your brother at Potions and handing him a small bag. 

“What’s this?” he asked, grabbing the bag. 

“That girl from Ravenclaw wanted me to give you this. I think she wants to ask you to Hogsmeade next weekend” you said, grabbing one of the chocolates inside. “Bite this, if it doesn’t have a love potion, I’m stealing them” you said.

“I’m not trying anything!” he complained. “Remember when we had to take care of Sirius after that girl from Hufflepuff basically drugged him?”

“I know, that’s why I wanted you to try them first” you chuckled. 

“Hold on” he said, grabbing his wand and pointing it at the candy. “We’re good” he said when a small purple dust came out of it. You grabbed one of the chocolates and Regulus grabbed another one, reading the note inside. “So, how was your talk with Potter this morning?” 

“I didn't talk to Potter this morning” you frowned, stealing some of his chocolates. 

“Don’t do that. I’m not Sirius” Regulus glared at you. “I’m not oblivious of how you two just casually entered the Great Hall together” he said. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Reggie” you said, pretending to be confused. 

“Or whenever he goes to Honeydukes he just happens to buy one too many Peppermint Toads so he gives you some, which just so happens to be your favorite” he said.

“He doesn’t… do that” you said, with your mouth half full of chocolate. 

“Are you… playing dumb? Or have you actually not noticed this?”

“Notice what? James is just friendly. That’s how he is” you tried to explain. 

“Really? He’s never gotten me Sugar Quills” Regulus said. 

“He doesn’t like Sugar Quills, why would he buy those?” 

“He doesn’t like Peppermint Toads either” he smirked. 

“Y-yes he does!” you argued, nervously. 

“No, he likes Chocolate Frogs, like the rest of us normal people” he said, as you glared at him. “And besides, it’s not just that. He’s always asking Sirius and me what your favorite books are, or asking Remus which songs you liked” he shrugged. 

“He… he does?”

“Does he really strike you as the guy who would read Pride and Prejudice for the fun of it?” 

“He might” you tried to convince yourself as you grabbed another chocolate. 

“Look, I know what you’re doing, and I know why you’re doing it. And it’s not worth it, bug” he said, getting serious. 

“It’s easy for you to say, Reg” you mumbled, picking another chocolate. “Look, it’s just… not that easy for me” you added. 

“You’ve gone out with guys before” he frowned, confused. 

“Not like James” you added. “What if… what if he’s really just being friendly? What if I think he’s interested in me and then I make a complete fool of myself? Just because he’s nice to me and I think there might be something else there? I feel…” you sighed, looking down at your hands. “It feels pathetic” you mumbled. 

“First of all, there’s nothing wrong with you liking James. Having feelings doesn’t make you pathetic” he said in a serious tone. “Secondly, did you not listen to what I just said? I honestly don’t think that James is just nice to you randomly like he’s nice to everyone else. He’s always looking for excuses to be around you, and he seems happier when he is. As do you. And, to be honest, I thought you were as oblivious about this as Sirius is, but now that I know that you were just trying to live in denial well, you’re dumber than Sirius- OUCH!”

“Excuse me?!” you asked, offended. 

“Only when it comes to this” he defended himself. “Look, I know that… for some reason, you’ve convinced yourself that you’re never going to find someone who fancies you-”

“For some reason? There is a very clear reason, Regulus, her name is Walburga!” 

“I know” he rolled his eyes. He knew very well about the hierarchy of the three of you in your home. And even if you were still not as below as Sirius because you were in Slytherin, your mother never let you forget that you were not Regulus or any of your cousins for that matter. “And I know that is not easy for you to turn off her voice in your head but, if you don’t, you might miss your chance to be with someone who is actually a great fit for you and it looks like he really likes you” he explained. “Don’t do that. If you let her win, you’re admitting that she’s right. And we all know, she’s not” he reminded you. “What’s the worst that could happen if you give Potter a chance?” 

“It’s very annoying when you’re right all the time, did you know that?”

“I do” he smiled triumphally, eating one last piece of chocolate as Professor Slughorn finally entered the class. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Ugh, what is it?” you heard your cousin’s annoyed voice on the other side of the door that you knocked on before it opened, and she appeared. “Oh, hey, love” she smiled when she saw it was you.

“Hi, Cissa, um… is this a bad time?” you asked, hoping you were not just interrupting her having sex with Malfoy. 

“Oh, no, love. Lucius is just moping about losing the match” she laughed, stepping out. “What’s up?” 

“Um, w-well, I wanted to ask for a favor… if you’re not too busy” you smiled. 

“Please, anything to get away from Lucius” she said, linking her arm with yours and already walking over to your dorm. “So, what’s going on?” she said, stepping into your dorm and noticing all the clothes scattered around your bed and the floor. 

“Well, I was hoping to get your opinion on something” you said, smiling sweetly. 

“Let me guess” she said, sitting on your bed and grabbing a few skirts and dresses. “You’re going to the Gryffindor party to see James Potter” she said, erasing the smile off your face. 

“Wha-? How did you know? Did Regulus tell you?”

“Oh, please, love, I’m sure you and Sirius are the only ones who didn’t know” she laughed. 

“What?”

“Yeah, Bella and Andy also know” she informed you. 

“What? How?”

“I told them” she shrugged. 

“Ugh, great” you said, throwing yourself on your bed. “My entire family is discussing my pathetic crush” you lamented. 

“It could be worse” she said. “At least he’s a pureblood” she smiled. 

“Right” you said awkardly, sitting up. Of course that would be the only pro she’d find on James. 

“Besides, he obviously likes you back” she said as she started looking through the dresses. “Stand up” she said, pulling you up and putting the dress in front of you. 

“How are you so sure that he likes me back?”

“Oh, please, love. You can’t be that dense” she snorted. “The boy won’t leave you alone. And I’m pretty sure you’re the only one not from Gryffindor to get invited to their parties” she said. “Or at least the only Slytherin” she said. 

“W-well, maybe Sirius invited me-”

“Then why isn’t Regulus going?” 

“Okay, fair” you sighed. 

“This looks pretty. How come you haven’t worn it before?” she asked, holding up a black dress. 

“Oh, I got it a while ago in a very cute shop, but, I know it’s not something my mother would ever let me wear” you told her. 

“Well, lucky for us, your mum isn’t here” she said, throwing the dress at you. 

After you put it on, Narcissa happily sat back down on your bed and helped you with your makeup. 

“Hey, Cissa?”

“Try not to move, I’m doing your eyes” she said. 

“How do you um… get a guy to uh… notice you?” you asked, making your cousin’s look soften a little. 

“James Potter already notices you, love” she smiled. 

“W-well, yeah, I guess b-but, um… how do I let him know that I like him?” you asked. “You know, without actually telling him” you chuckled. 

“You mean, how do you flirt with him?” 

“It’s just… Regulus insists that he does these things to get my attention and… to be honest, I didn’t think it was any different from the way he acts with other girls so… I guess I have been acting normal, but… I’d like him to know that I’m interested, I guess…”

“Well, Potter seems to have a big ego, so congratulate him on how well he played today” she said as she kept doing her makeup and you glared at her a little. 

“And Lucius is as humble as they come, I suppose” you muttered. 

“Fair point” she said, before she continued. “Look, you already know he’s interested in you. Just smile at him, laugh at his stupid jokes, you should be fine” she insisted as she finished. “Okay, I’m done” she smiled. You got up and walked over looking at yourself in the mirror. 

For the first time, in a very long time, you actually felt beautiful. Narcissa had managed to make you look as elegant and flawless as you did whenever your family had a dinner party, but you didn’t feel like you were wearing a costume in one of the dresses your mother always picked. You felt like yourself. You turned around and hugged your cousin tightly. 

“Thank you so much, Cissa!” you smiled. 

“You’re welcome, love. Now go flirt with your dumb boy” she said, ushering you outside your dorm. 

“You too” you said, smiling and walking down the stairs as she rolled her eyes.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

When you entered the Gryffindor Tower, the party was already in full mode. You felt a few people, guys specifically, looking your way but you thought maybe it was because you were possibly the only Slytherin here. You walked across the Common Room, looking for James, but you found a different Marauder first. 

“Hi, Remus” you smiled as he walked over to you. 

“Oh, thank Merlin you’re here” he hugged you. “You’re the only person I like at this party and now Prongs can finally stop moping about you not being here” he said, making you laugh a little as he pulled away and looked at you. “Wow… you look-?”

“Bad?” you panicked.

“What? No! You look lovely” he smiled. “Prongs’ probably gonna have a heart attack though” he smirked. 

“Shut up! Stop saying things like that!” you widened your eyes at him. 

“Oh, please don’t tell me that you are as oblivious as your brother” he chuckled.

“I am not-! You know, I hit Regulus for saying that today!” 

“Alright, don’t hit me” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “But, you cannot tell me that you haven’t noticed the way Prongs acts around you. He was literally throwing a fit about you not coming today” he insisted. 

“Really? Because he seems fine to me” you said, pointing behind Remus where you saw James talking to a group of very pretty girls as he offered a drink to one of them while another one threw her hair back, clearly flirting with him. 

“That means nothing” Remus said, rolling his eyes when he looked back to you. “That’s how James is-” 

“Exactly, that’s how James is” you repeated. 

“No, it’s different with you” Remus insisted as he grabbed a drink and handed it to you. 

“Really? Enlighten me” you glared at him. 

“So, you are admitting you are as oblivious as Sirius then?” 

“You know, you’re making a big deal out of that for someone who is just as oblivious on my brother’s crush on him-”

“What?!” Remus said, choking on his drink and pulling you aside. “Alright, now you’re just making stuff up” he said. 

“I’m not! You really haven’t noticed how Sirius is obnoxiously loud whenever you’re around to get your attention?”

“He… does not” Remus said, blushing a little. 

“Or that he calls you sweet names” you smirked.

“He calls everyone ‘love’” he interrupted. 

“Yes, he does” you nodded. “But he only calls you ‘my’ love” you added. 

“He… does not” he repeated.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius asked, walking over to the two of you all of the sudden. 

“Nothing” Remus quickly said. 

“Being normal, why?” you said at the same time, making Sirius raise an eyebrow at the two of you. “Um… h-have you seen James?” 

“No, but I am seeing too much of something” he said, gesturing his hand at your body. “What the bloody hell are you wearing?”

“A dress?” you said, looking down at yourself. 

“That is too revealing. You need to go change!”

“First of all, it is not. And secondly, your shirt is literally completely open!” you complained. 

“Yeah, well, this isn’t anything they haven’t seen before” he defended himself. “I am not in the mood to fight some prick that stares at you for a little too long because of… that” he said. “Go upstairs and grab my jacket” he told you.

“What? No!” you complained.

“Yes” he insisted. “Would you reason with her, my love?” he asked, looking at Sirius and you smirked when he blushed furiously. 

“Shut up” he whispered to you. “Look, just go upstairs and pretend to look for a jacket, I’ll distract him and you can come back in a few minutes” he said while Sirius finished his drink. 

“Ugh, fine” you rolled your eyes. 

“How come she only listens to you?” Sirius complained, pouting at Remus. “It must be your beautiful eyes” he smiled.

“How many of those have you had?” Remus asked, taking his glass away from him. 

You made it upstairs to the boys’ dorm and went over to Sirius' trunk to look for one of his jackets.  You found one that you kind of liked and put it on before you went back downstairs. You looked for James but saw he was still talking to the group of girls. You tried to look for your brother instead but saw him very busy with Remus and you didn’t want to interrupt so you went to grab something to drink.

“I didn’t know they let Slytherins into our parties” you heard Augustus McLaggen on your left, pouring himself a drink as well. 

“Oh” you said nervously. You were rarely alone at these things. You would at least have Regulus by your side and he would make someone go away if you were uncomfortable. “W-well, James invited me and- I was with my brother-”

“Relax, darling, I’m joking” he smirked, walking closer to you. 

“Oh” you smiled wearily. 

“It’s actually a bit… refreshing to have someone from another house” he said. 

“Um… thanks?”

“There’s something different about you” he said, eyeing you up and down. “I can’t quite put my finger on it” he said, making you pull your jacket a little closer.

“Hey! You finally came, love” you thankfully heard James’ voice coming towards you and wrapping his arm around your waist. “I thought you were standing me up” he said, kissing your head. 

“J-James, hi” you smiled relieved. 

“Sorry, mate, gotta steal her for a bit” he said, smirking at McLaggen who was glaring at him and he quickly pulled you aside. 

“Thank you” you told him as the two of you walked away.

“Don’t mention it, love. McLaggen’s a prick, why were you talking to him?”

“I wasn’t talking to him! He was talking to me” you insisted as James raised his eyebrow. “I was just getting a drink! And I was gonna go look for you-”

“Are you wearing my jacket?” he asked, confused. 

“Y-your… what?” you said, looking down at your jacket. “This is y-your jacket?” you asked confused. 

“Yeah” he smiled.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it was in Sirius’ trunk” you said, confused. “I thought-”

“Yeah, beautiful. I’m gonna save you some time, probably none of our clothes is in the correct trunk” he laughed. “Except Remus’” he added. 

“I’m sorry” you said, starting to take it off. 

“N-no! Don’t worry about it, gorgeous. Are you cold? Is that why you wanted my jacket? ‘Cause it looks good on you- I mean, you look beautiful tonight” he said smiling at you. “W-well, you always do” he added. 

“R-really?” you smiled, feeling your cheeks blush.

“Yeah” he nodded. “You don’t need the jacket if you ask me-”

“Oh, um, w-well…” you stuttered. “Sirius just… didn’t like my dress and said I needed a jacket” you rolled your eyes.  

“Well, Padfoot just needs to snog Moony and mind his business” he laughed, making you laugh as well. “You look beautiful with that dress” he smiled dreamily at you. 

“Thank you, James” you said, feeling your heart flutter. “Wait, you know about that?”

“How Sirius calls Moony ‘my’ love? Of course I do” he chuckled. “So, what took you so long to come? Were you crying all this time because your house lost?”

“Really? Did you want me to come just to brag about the match, Potter? I can still leave” you smirked as he handed you a drink. 

“Please don’t. I was so bored before you came” he said, walking you over to one of the sofas near a window. 

“I find that very hard to believe” you said, looking around. 

“Why do you always think I’m lying?” James asked, placing his hand on the sofa, behind you. 

“Because I’ve known you since I’m eleven?” you replied, making him glare at you a little. 

“That hurts, love” he said, trying to sound offended. “When have I ever lied to you?” 

“Well, for starters, you didn’t tell me that you, my brother, and Peter became Animagi to help Remus-”

“That was your brother. He didn’t let us tell you” he defended himself. 

“Alright” you said, trying to suppress your smile. “So, you’ve never lied to me?”

“Never, love” he insisted.

“Not even to avoid hurting my feelings?” you raised your eyebrow at him and noticed him tense a little. 

“N-no, of course not” he said, taking a sip of his drink. 

“So, last Christmas when you invited us over and your mum was teaching me how to cook, you actually liked the Christmas Pudding I made?” 

“Of course I did” he chuckled. 

“James” you glared at him. 

“Yes, love?” he smiled, goofily at you. 

“I mistakenly added salt instead of sugar, it was ruined” you laughed. 

“No, no. It wasn’t ruined. It gave it a new better taste” he shrugged. 

“James!” you laughed. 

“What? It’s true! I liked it” he insisted. 

“Nobody else ate it! You can’t possibly think it was good” you laughed. 

“Well, I did” he shrugged, turning your way. 

“You’re really stubborn, did you know that?” 

“Oh, and you’re not?” he laughed making you smile. “Have you… always been this beautiful?” 

“That’s so cheesy, Potter, even for your standards” you chuckled, feeling your cheeks burning. 

“Wait… do you-? Do you not believe me?” he asked, his tone getting serious. 

“I- um… I do” you said, unconvincingly. 

“You don’t” he said, turning himself to you. “It is one thing that you don’t believe that I liked your Christmas Pudding-”

“You didn't” you insisted. 

“But how can you not believe me about that?” 

“I do!” you insisted. “It’s just… I’m sorry, I’m being stupid” you smiled sadly, looking at your drink. 

“No, you’re not” James insisted, placing his hand under your chin to make you look at him. “What’s going on, love? Did- did I say something wrong?” 

“No!” you quickly said. “You never say anything wrong” you smiled sadly. “It’s just… I’m not really used to um… hearing that” you said, feeling your cheeks blush. 

“Love, I tell you that every single day! Why is it so hard for you to believe me?” 

“Because, James, look at my entire family” you said, sadly. “You know who I live with. My mother is not warm and loving like your mum is. I grew up very differently than you” you reminded him, making his look turn soft and his heart break a little. “I know you wouldn’t lie to me” you added. “It’s just… not easy for me to believe it, I guess” you smiled sadly. 

“Well, love” he said, moving closer to you and placing his hand softly on your cheek. “If you’re okay with it, I will keep saying it until you believe me” he told you. “Because you are the most beautiful person that I have seen in my life. And, since apparently I haven’t been as obvious as I thought I was, I am completely and madly in love with you and I would love to take you out on a date” he said, making your heart stop. 

“R-really?” you asked and he raised his eyebrows at you. “I m-mean, y-yes, I would love to go on a date with you” you smiled. “And… in case you didn’t know because I’m horrible at this… I am very much in love with you too” you added, making the biggest smile appear on James’ face. “And I also think you’re really beautiful” you said before he pulled you in to kiss you on the lips. 

“I love you, beautiful” he said, making you smile. 

“I love you too, Jamie” you said. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Anything” he said.

“Do you like Peppermint Toads?” you asked suddenly, remembering your conversation with Regulus. 

“Do I uh-” he frowned. “Why are you asking me that?” he chuckled nervously. 

“You always give me Peppermint Toads when you say you bought too many but… I don’t think I’ve seen you have one” you explained. 

“Well, love… I hate to break it to you, but nobody likes Peppermint Toads” he admitted. 

“That’s not true!”

“Yes, it is” he said, kissing your cheek. “I just bought them because you always smiled when I gave them to you” he said. “So, I’ll buy you as many as you want” he said, hugging you to him and giving you another peck on the lips. 

"Thanks, love" you smiled. "Can you now tell me if you actually liked my Christmas Pudding?"

"I did!"

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: I hope you loves liked it! :)

[igotanidea]

Smooth criminal: AK!Jason x reader

part 1 : Somebody's watching me

part 2: Run baby, run

Yeah... I know it's been a while. Sorry guys. But here we are :)

***

They say that history repeats itself. That’s its merely a one big circle in which people get lost endlessly, not learning from the past mistakes, instead doing them all over again.

Like an Uroboros, forevermore biting his tail.

And that was how Y/N felt at the moment, shaking over the cup of tea Dick so generously offered her alongside with his hoodie. And even more kindly – not asking any questions of why she showed up at his apartment (or rather under it) in the middle of the night looking crazy.

She was back at the beginning. Back over Jason’s grave, sobbing and shaking while the memories of the news of him being gone forever haunted her mind.

Felt like all her efforts to forget and move on have come to nothing.

“Y/N…”

“No. No please I don’t want to talk Dick-“

“I was just gonna say you can stay here for as long as you like. I don’t know what got you so freaked out, but the Y/N I know – knew­ – was not the one to get scared over a spider or a mouse. So it must have been serious. Stay.” He grabbed and squeezed her hands reassuringly. “I’m serious.”

“No, no it’s too much to ask for—”

“Good thing you did not ask then.” Dick grinned “Cause I believe I offered It myself.”

“You really didn’t change a bit, Grayson. Same golden, sunshine boy.”

“And you’re still the same, not holding back girl. Woman. How long has it been exactly?”

“Two years.” She sighed

“Two years.” Dick sighed too, his eyes becoming a little blurry from the memories. “I missed you, you know. And not only me. So did Tim and Alfred and Damian and I’m sure even Bruce became a little more grumpy without your presence to challenge him.”

“He’s got enough criminals to keep him entertained I believe?”

“Oh, Y/N, criminals he can handle easily, they are no fun. But having a woman with a sharp mind? That’s something Bruce still needs a lot of training in.”

***

 It was shockingly easy to reconnect with Dick.

Or maybe not, given the fact he was always awfully friendly, keeping in touch even with his exes and even having considerably good relations with some villains.

Long story short, in a months’ time she was regularly back in his life and he was back in hers. And much to her surprise, this time it was not a constant reminder of the person she lost, neither filling the void, but rather a soft recollection that she was not the only one who felt the repercussions of Jason being gone.

If anything, after that time apart, it felt like Y/N and Dick’s relationship could finally move past the tragic events and bloom. Not in a romantic sense, because he had Barbara and was making plans in that area, but like a true, deep friendship, cemented with similar feelings.

And she even got the guts to meet with the rest of the batfamily, ditching those girls who left her alone at the party. Slowly, but steadily, she was getting back to her old, familiar self, dropping the act of a girl who wanted to be anything but the version she was when Jason was alive and with her.  She was not running from the past anymore, but rather embracing and accepting it. And that was the real healing.

Only that Jason was not gone.

Observing her carefully from the shadows, watching almost every step, be it himself or using his militia. With explicit orders given to not let her know they were there. He had bigger plans coming, and making the same mistake as before, by coming as close as to touch her, could never happen again. Even if somewhere deep inside, the very subdued part of him screamed for that. For the warmth he remembered and knew would come with tenderness and not pain.

She never gave him anything less but love and devotion.

If anything Jason was only cursing himself that he let her step into the Batman world again. That is was his reckless behavior that drove her back into the arms of people, who were nothing but bad news. Who would eventually end up hurting her too.

And he was going to protect his little, innocent princess from that.

So yes, he was watching.

Sending his goons when he knew she was walking back home from work late, to ensure no one would lay a finger on her.

Causing a commotion in the area that happened to be dangerous only so she would choose another way.

Sending her colleagues threat letters so they would drop the chase for the same promotion at work as her.

Beating up a guy who was trying to flirt with her when she was buying coffee-to-go at her favorite place.

Doing it all smoothly, like a professional he was.

Building up a way to execute his master plan that would keep her safe from any danger, real or hypothetical. Forever.

***

“She got home, boss. Safe and sound, not one hair out of place.” One of his militia officers reported to him

“Good.” Jason only grunted in response. One whole month and he was so close to the finale. The end was right in front of him and he had to hold himself back to not make a single rookie mistake that would derail his efforts.

“If I may, sir, why exactly are we wasting resources on some woman? She’s no one important, just a regular—”

“What did you say?”

If the sinister voice wasn’t enough to make the man stop his sentence, the iron grip on his throat did.

“I- I-“

“No one important? Huh? Was that what you said?” Jason mocked tightening fingers on the man's jugular. “Answer me!”

“I- I-“ he was struggling for air.

“Pathetic!” Jason threw him on the ground, retrieving the gun from his holster, pointing it at the man’s head.

“Please, don’t—”

“I should put a bullet in your head for talking about her like that and second one for questioning my plans.” The gun outlet was now pressing into the man’s temple. “You are doing what I tell you, you hear me? No questions. No doubts. You are here to serve me, unless-“ Jason put a little bit of pressure on the trigger.

“No! No please!”

“You’re a piece of shit.” Arkham Knight muttered, taking the gun away. “But I am feeling merciful today. We can’t have blood on the floor when Y/N arrives. Now go! Get out of my face before I change my mind! And you make sure everything is perfect because if not—” he  caressed the arms with a cruel glint in his eyes, enjoying the way his officer rushed out of the room, throwing commands left and right, halfway out the door.

“Soon, baby… Soon we’ll be back together…” Jason muttered to himself once he was finally alone.

He was so close to having everything he needed.

@vaniasagitaa @gone-batty-fics @astrelz @not-herexo @deans-spinster-witch @calicocat45 @princessbl0ss0m @rosieandthethorns @beingaturtlespiritually @grierpilots @killerwendigo @teenytinytunes

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR 3 - ( c.s )

part two

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- swearing, a bit of drinking

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: part three baby here we go! hope you guys enjoy!! if i forgot a tag it either wouldn’t let me or i missed it (if i missed u pls comment and i’ll fix it right up). anyways kisses for u all i hope ur having a good day, my inbox is open for anything as always MWAH

@cutenote @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @breeloveschris @l9vesick @bb-1s-blog @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @annamcdonalds67 @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @luckistar-posts @angelworldspost @ponyosturniolo @rainyenthusiastdaze @heartz4chris @sturnvvz @cupidsword @wurlibydominicfike @mattswrld @yoursopretty15 @poopydroopt @latinasforchrizz @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner

it’s been a day since the kiss, and you still haven’t told a single soul. for some reason, you’re way too scared to admit what happened to your roommates, even though you know they’d be the last to judge you for it.

and yet you just can’t, despite the fact that it’s been eating you alive for over twenty-four hours straight. saying it out loud makes it real, so you decided it was best to keep it inside.

however, you still need to give chris his jersey back, which you’ve been neglecting to do because you don’t want to see him.

or maybe because you’re scared.

it’s an involuntary thought, and it makes you angry. there’s nothing to be scared of, because he doesn’t have any power over you.

right?

you grab his jersey off the top of your dresser. it’s all clean, and it still smells like detergent from when you washed it yesterday. you’ve been putting it off all day, and it’s time for that to stop.

the sun is nearly gone, so you head down the stairs, silently thankful that ramona and cassidy are both are both runnings errands as you slip out the front door.

you’re in your comfy clothes, black sweats and baby blue hoodie that you stole from cass, and you’re immediately regretting the fact that you didn’t grab a jacket.

you hurry across the lawn, passing the cars parked in the driveway. there’s an unfamiliar red one at the end, and it almost makes you pause, but the possibility doesn’t fully connect in your mind yet.

so you head up the steps and knock on the door loudly, still very much so a woman on a mission.

it takes a moment, a long moment, before someone comes to open it for you. it’s connor, which is unfortunate, because you really weren’t prepared to speak with anyone besides the one boy you’re actually looking for.

he looks a little confused, but he smiles nonetheless. “what’s up?”

“i’m just, uh, trying to drop off chris’s jersey.” any bit of confidence you had is gone now as you choke on your words.

connor’s eyes widen a little as his grin fades, though you can tell he’s trying to play it off. “he’s a little busy right now, but i’ll get it to him.”

your eyebrows furrow as he reaches his arms out, like he’s trying to rush the process along without any more interrogation.

“busy with what?” you question, though you hand it over regardless.

he looks at you for just a half a second too long, like he’s waiting for you to piece it together, and then it clicks. chris is busy because he has a girl over, and that’s her car in the driveway.

you wish it didn’t phase you, but you can feel your face morphing into an emotion that borders disgust and anger.

“oh, i see.” is all you say, because you’re already fucking embarrassed beyond belief.

you turn and head back down the stairs, trying to ignore the way your stomach is flipping like you’re going to throw up.

connor doesn’t say anything. instead you hear the door close, and you feel completely numb as you walk back to your own porch. part of it is because of the cold, and part of it is because you feel so stupid.

you’re not sure what you were expecting, but that was exactly what you should’ve anticipated knowing chris.

you step back into the warmth of your own home, and even when you close and lock the door, a shiver chases you.

you head back up to your bedroom, kicking your shoes off by the door. you want further confirmation, so you peek through the curtains that hang over your window.

chris’s room, which is coincidentally directly across from yours, reveals nothing besides a dim light that peeks through the closed blinds.

you let the drapes fall back into place, still in shock. it was so ridiculous to believe for even a second that he was any different than he had been for the last six months.

you should’ve taken him at his word. he doesn’t date, and he’s not interested in you beyond teasing you or making you look like an idiot.

and you refuse to be taken for a fool.

you pace along the floor for a second until you decide you deserve some wine. you know there’s at least half a bottle in the fridge, and maybe it’ll help you calm the hell down.

a few minutes later you’re back upstairs, huddled up in your bed with a book you had started earlier in the day, sipping from your glass as you read.

it’s hard to fall into the fantasy world you picked out at first, but then you begin to feel your cheeks flush and your eyes are suddenly devouring the words.

you’re so enveloped in the plot, completely unaware that your roommates had gotten home until ramona walks in. it startles you, so much so that you lose your page.

she pauses to take in your state; the empty glass, the minimal leftovers in the bottle you brought with you, your droopy eyes.

“wine before 7 p.m. on the lord’s day? you’re crazy.” she jokes with a grin.

you shrug, also smiling a little bit. “felt like getting a little wild.”

mona puts a hand on her hip and nods toward the door she just entered through. “well, could i maybe convince you to take this crazy train downstairs so we can catch up on VPR? we’re like, three episodes behind now.”

you snap your book closed and roll out of bed, which you can tell by her snort looks far from graceful.

“all you had to say was VPR.”

you sit at your desk, gnawing on your bottom lip as you try to focus on the stupid online homework prompts that are due soon. the overcast afternoon light pours into your room, and you hear your phone buzz against the wood.

chris

still playing hard to get?

you roll your eyes before you can help it. the text doesn’t surprise you, because he’s been messaging you for the past few days, ever since he inevitably found out you stopped by from connor.

chris

that’s clearly a yes.

you wonder how many times he’s going to text you as you put your phone down to pull your hair out of your face, tying it up at the back of your head.

once again, you hear the device vibrate, and you flip it to glance at the screen.

chris

i can see you ignoring me you know

your eyes betray you as you glance out the window, just to find chris standing in front of his own. he’s pouting at you with his phone in his hand, hair all curly and damp like he just got out of the shower.

you stand up from your chair without a second thought and take a few steps so you can yank your curtains closed.

he might refuse to believe it, but you’re not playing hard to get. you just can’t fucking stand him.

chris

now that’s just cold

come onnnnnn princess

y/n

holy shit

do NOT call me princess

chris

you love it

y/n

i hate you

chris

if you don’t stop this i’m coming over there

y/n

i’d like to see you try asshole

chris

fine.

you pull back one curtain to call his bluff, and your heart actually drops when you see that he’s not standing there anymore. that just means he’s probably on his way over already.

you have no idea if cass or ramona are home or in their rooms or what. but you do know that you’re locking your door, and if he makes it through the house undetected he’s not getting into your room.

you sit on the edge of your bed for a moment, waiting because you don’t know what else to do with yourself. and then the knock comes, right before chris twists the handle and finds it locked.

“open up.” he demands, his gruff voice muffled through the door.

“no.”

“i’ll go downstairs and get cass if you don’t let me in.” he threatens, which doesn’t really scare you.

cassidy will kick his ass out if she realizes you don’t want him here. you’ll have to explain some things, but it’s probably time to do that anyways.

“you’re being a baby and you’re wasting your time. go home, chris.” you reiterate.

“come on, i just want to talk.” he wiggles the handle once again, like that will somehow open it.

“then call a sex addiction helpline.” you reply hotly, glaring at the slab of wood that separates you as if you can actually see him, though you’re glad you can’t.

“can you please open the door?”

“nope.”

“jesus, you’re so stubborn it’s ridiculous.” he groans, and you hear his forehead thump against the door.

he’s growing frustrated now, and even though you’re heated too, you kind of love it.

“so are you! how many times do i have to tell you to leave?” you shoot back.

it’s silent for a moment, which scares you. then you hear a small sigh.

“i didn’t think i would have to do this.”

the lock on the door begins to twist and turn rapidly, and you leap forward to grab it with your hand.

chris twists it hard and your fingers fumble to keep it jammed. your thumb is already in pain, and the harder he pushes the closer you are to failing. you’re finally forced to let go as chris comes shoving his way into your room a few seconds later.

even though he stumbles slightly, he looks so proud of himself, clutching the heavy duty paper clip he used to get inside.

“there, that’s better.” he says smugly.

you watch his eyes take in your room, covered in posters and full of random artifacts, and you hate it. for some reason, it feels deeply personal.

“holy shit, why don’t you just go home already?”

it’s impossible to keep your tone level anymore as you turn away from him.

“i’m here now, so you have to talk to me.”

“no, i really don’t.” you reply before plopping down onto your mattress, crossing your arms as you lean against the headboard.

“don’t be a brat.” chris follows your lead, even though you weren’t inviting him to join you.

he falls beside you, sprawling out on his back by your feet. his shirt raises over his sweats, exposing a bit of skin above the band of his boxers, and you have to tear your eyes away.

you can feel the warmth of his body, can smell his aftershave mixed with hints of some kind of fresh body wash, and all of it drives you crazy.

you curl your body into itself so there’s as much distance between the two of you as possible.

“why are you so mad?” chris turns his head slightly so he can look at you.

“i’m not mad, you just disgust me.”

this makes him smile. “i beg to differ, i think you like me.”

without hesitation, you extend one leg to kick him in his side. even though it’s not very forceful, he lets out a little groan of surprise, hand going to rub his hip as he frowns.

“you didn’t have to kick me, damn.”

“you deserved that.” you argue, tucking your knees back to your chest.

this time he stays silent and just looks at you. his eyes scan your face, darting down to your lips every other second, and you’re suddenly very aware of your surroundings.

“what the fuck are you staring at?” you ask in a brief moment of panic.

his eyes are so unnerving. it’s like he can see right through you.

“you’re pretty.” chris shrugs before averting his gaze back to the ceiling.

your face flushes, and you force yourself to remember the embarrassment from the other day, how stupid you felt after discovering that he’s still the same old player that sits beside you now.

“shouldn’t you be giving some other girl an STD or something?” you snap, and he huffs out a breathy laugh.

“first of all, i’m totally clean. and if you’d actually let me explain, you’d realize the girl that was over on sunday is just an ex fling who was picking up some old stuff.”

his clarification shocks you, though you still don’t necessarily believe it yet. he could be lying, even though it doesn’t seem like he is.

“you’re seriously telling me you weren’t hooking up with her?” you ask.

“it was strictly platonic. nothing happened.” he confirms, shifting to face you again.

chris lifts his hand to trace gentle patterns along your shins, and you don’t shy away this time. the feeling of his palms, even when separated by your leggings, is far nicer than you imagined.

“okay.” you mutter simply.

“you’ve been ignoring me the entire week and all i get is an ‘okay’?” he halts his movements so he can curl his fingers into air quotes.

“what would you like me to say?”

“an apology would be a nice start.”

you bark out a laugh. “an apology for what? for not talking to you? because i really didn’t take you for the sensitive type.”

he just shakes his head, nudging your legs with one of his knuckles lightly. “god, you and that headstrong attitude will be the death of me.”

“can’t wait.” you quip back, and now its his turn to chuckle.

silence settles over the two of you for a moment, and you’ve been far too close for too long, so you move to stand once again.

“alright, well, we talked. time for you to get lost.” you motion toward the door.

chris sits up, running a hand through his messy hair before he replies. “look, we don’t have another game until sunday, so we’re hosting at the house tomorrow. you should come.”

you raise an eyebrow and tap your chin, like you’re really contemplating. “i’ll have to think about it.”

“please? it’ll only be fun if you go.” he flashes you a charming smile, and you hate that it actually does kind of work.

“maybe i’ll make a special appearance. maybe.” you point a wary finger at him as he gets back on his feet.

“that’s what i like to hear.” chris says, making his way toward you.

you expect him to pass right by, but he lingers, like there’s something else on his mind. he stares down at you with those big blue eyes, and you can feel yourself slipping into dangerous territory.

“is there something else?” you ask softly, and the sound of your voice is maddening to him.

you don’t even try to tempt chris on purpose, he knows this, and yet everything about you is so enticing. not to mention he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the kiss since it happened, or that pretty little mouth of yours.

but he shakes his head again, because the things he’s thinking about you so early on in this strange relationship frighten him.

“uh, no, sorry. i’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully.”

and then he blows right by you without waiting for a response, disappearing just as quickly as he arrived.

[flippinpancakes64]

The Cullens reacting to their partner being missing.

Some people kidnapped the wrong person at the wrong time, what would the Cullens do in that situation? How would they take care of her after finding her?

I love your work, I can read everything you've done over and over again, have a nice day!

The Cullens when you’ve been kidnapped

Thank you so much for the kind words! It always makes me so happy when you guys say that you like my works so much!

Also I know I just opened requests… but I am closing them again 🥲 sorry guys. I have over 20 requests in my inbox rn and I don’t want them to pile up too much! Please be patient with me

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

You told him that you were going to your friend’s house

Initially, he wanted to walk you there, but you refused

It was the middle of the day and you can take care of yourself

So off you went

You were supposed to text him when you got there, but a text never came

He was getting antsy

It was only a minute or two after you should have gotten there, but he was ready to bolt out the door

His concerns were solidified when Alice rushed into the room and he saw the vision of you getting tackled and pushed into a van in her head

He was on his way in a second

He followed your faint scent until it stopped in front of a warehouse

He didn’t bother to stop and listen through the doors, he just barged in

You were tied up on the floor, unconscious

Two men were nearby in the middle of an argument

You weren’t the person they were supposed to get, but rather someone who looked a lot like you

Either way, they were screwed

Edward wasted no time in killing both of them

He scooped you up and ran all the way to Carlisle’s clinic

He insisted that you stay the night to make sure you were okay

He is not leaving your side after that

You’re not even gonna be allowed to walk the five feet to the bathroom without him

Sorry not sorry

If he was alive, he would have almost had a heart attack, and he’s not about to have that happen again

Alice:

She was so preoccupied with visions at the moment

There was a tracker vampire who seemed to have it out for Jasper, so her mind was constantly tracking him

You felt bad even bothering her to tell her you were going to the mall

She just gave you an absent nod as you left

She was watching the vampire in her mind, watching as he made different choices, chose different paths

She was so distracted she completely disregarded the vision of you

She only noticed your absence when the sun began to sink behind the horizon and you were still nowhere to be found

It took her a lot of thinking to even remember where you had gone

Instantly, she took out her phone and tried to call you, nothing

A text, nothing

Your location had been turned off too

Then she caught another vision

This time of a group of men holding a gun to your head and pulling the trigger

Instantly, she was up

She replayed the scene over and over in her mind, trying to track down where exactly you were before it was too late

She flew into the basement of the house just in time, the men were loading the gun as she burst in

Swiftly, she knocked everyone out, and killed the man with the gun

You were in hysterics, so scared of what almost happened but also relieved to see your girlfriend

She just held you for the rest of the night, apologizing over and over about leaving you for so long, about not noticing that you’d been gone

From that point on, she made sure to ALWAYS tune in whenever a vision had you in it

Jasper:

You wanted to go out to the club

But Jasper’s not really into that scene

He’s gone with you a couple of times, but it’s never his first choice

So when you ask him if he wants to go, he declines

He accompanied you two days ago, that’s his club tolerance for the week

So you get all dressed up, give him a kiss goodbye, and you’re out the door

He isn’t too concerned, you’re going with your friends after all

He does start to worry, though, when 2 am rolls around and you’re still not home

Usually, you’re home around 1, but sometimes you spend the night at your friends house

He calls you, nothing. He texts you, nothing. So he calls one of your friends

She answers completely wasted and says she hasn’t seen you in a little bit

You went to the bathroom a couple of hours ago and she just assumed you went home or something

He always knew that friend was an idiot

He’s out the door in a flash, driving down to the club you were supposed to be at

He sees your car out in the front lot, and right next to it, a suspicious looking white van

Inside, he can hear your muffled screams

He rips open the door and sees a man holding a knife to your throat, asking you all manners of questions that you have no clue how to answer

Jasper’s always been very cautious about how he acts around you, he doesn’t want you to see him as a monster

But in this instance, he gives in to the beast

He’s shaking by the time the man is dead, and he frees your from your restraints

He needs the rest of the night to wind down and just hold you

He apologizes over and over for scaring you, for leaving you alone, that that even happened in the first place

Does not leave your side ever again

Rosalie:

You and Rosalie were out on the town

You wanted to go see all of the new shops that had moved downtown, and she couldn’t say no even if she tried

So off you went, coffee in hand and Carlisle’s credit card in Rosalie’s pocket

You were in a boutique, looking through all of the pretty dresses, when you found a beautiful dark blue velvet dress that you thought Rosalie would look perfect in

So you found her size on the rack and shoved her into a fitting room

Only while she was in there, a group of three guys came up behind you and grabbed you, pulling you outside

They didn’t get very far though before Rosalie stopped them

She ran out of the dressing room, dress still on

She set off the sensors as she ran into the street

She roundhouse kicked one of the guys, knocking out three of his teeth in the progress

The other guys she simply punched and they were down, crying for their mommies

Luckily, they didn’t have the chance to hurt you

So even though you were shaken up, you were okay

As she’s standing there holding you, waiting for the police to arrive, you have the nerve to laugh

“What the hell are you laughing about? You almost died!”

“You look really pretty in that dress, Rose”

She just rolls her eyes and kisses you

Emmett:

You were at one of your friend’s apartments in the city center

He was moving in and asked if you would come help

So obviously you said yes and obviously you brought your mountain-sized boyfriend who could lift the whole moving van

The three of you were working hard, grabbing stuff from the van and carrying it up the stairs

You had sat down on the ledge of the sidewalk for a second, catching your breath and drinking some water when a guy came up to you out of nowhere and tried to grab you

Emmett heard you and dropped everything instantly

But by the time he got down the stairs, you were gone

He could hear your muffled scream getting fainter as the man dragged you farther away

He bolted as fast as he could in the direction of your voice

When he caught up, he didn’t even bother asking questions

Punch first, questions later

Only he killed the guy

Not that he’s upset that he did, he’s just sort of frustrated that he’ll never get to know why that asshole thought it would be a good idea to try to take his partner

Either way he’s not letting you out of his sight

The only place he relaxes is when you’re at home and safe

Constantly on guard

Poor guy just needs to relax

Esme:

You had been begging her for a week straight to come with you to this concert

But it was a slipknot concert, and definitely not her speed

She entertained you for a little bit and listened to some of their music to see if she would want to go with you, but yeah that wasn’t happening

So eventually you gave up and decided to ask one of your friends to go

She promised she would make it up to you when you got home, only you never showed up

It was getting late, nearing 3 am, and you were still nowhere to be seen

She tried calling, texting, anything, but you weren’t there

She was getting really worried, when suddenly she got a call from your friend

Your friend was in hysterics, crying and screaming, it was hard to understand them

But from what she gathered, your friend’s ex boyfriend had showed up and drugged you, dragging you away from your car

And from what else she gathered, he wasn’t intending on taking you, but rather your friend

She immediately got in her car and sped down to the concert center

When she got there, there were at least 4 cop cars

Your friend was standing next to one, talking to an officer when Esme showed up

The officer pointed her in the direction of a different cruiser, and you were inside, blissfully asleep

She could have started crying she was so relieved

She got the story from one of the officers, apparently the ex realized he had the wrong person and turned around to try to get your friend, only to see that the police were already there

Stupid idiot

You didn’t remember a thing when you woke up, which was probably for the best

Oh well, at least now Esme will go with you to every concert

Carlisle:

He has a lot of enemies

Even though he has tried so hard over his expansive lifetime to be cordial to everyone, some people just can’t be reasoned with

He knows this, but he never thought anyone would go after you

He was at the clinic when he got a call from Alice, saying that she saw a man with red eyes taking you in your sleep and killing you

She didn’t recognize him, but after giving his description, Carlisle knew exactly who it was

He figured he had a couple of hours to get to you and prepare for the man’s arrival

But he didn’t

He took a lunch break at work and drove to your house, intending to warn you of what was to come later that night

Only you weren’t there

Your bedroom window was broken and your sheets were tossed all over the bed

Not to mention the stench of vampire that permeated the room

He completely forgot about your midday naps

He was instantly in searching mode

He got Alice and Edward to help track you down, both of their skills valuable for this

He found you in an old factory, a bite on your ankle that was slowly filling you with venom

While Edward and Alice killed the man, he sucked the venom from your wound, the whole time praying that you would be okay

You were knocked out cold for a week after that

He kept you at his home clinic, making sure to keep an eye on you at all hours of the day

He feels so guilty

But the moment you wake up and look so happy to see him, he feels better

Vampire! Bella:

She’s had her fair share of danger

I mean, when she was human she was a magnet for it

But in her time of knowing you, you’ve never posed much of a threat to yourself

So she’s never been too worried about you

You had asked her earlier if she wanted to go to the movies with you, and she had declined

She needed to go hunting, and it was going to be a perfect night for it

So you both went your separate ways

She left her phone at home, opting to keep it safe while she throws herself around the woods

When she gets home, it’s late, and you’re nowhere to be seen

She opens her phone to call you, only to find you already left her a voicemail

Not a good sign

She listens to it, and she can hear you whispering, your voice quivering with fear

You’re in the trunk of a car, and you have no idea where you’re going. You don’t know the guys who took you, and you’re scared

That’s all she needs to hear

It doesn’t take her long to track you down, your scent very prominent to her

On the other side of the door to the house you’re in, she can hear two guys arguing about what to do with you

Apparently you saw something you shouldn’t have seen

Oh well, now they’re going to see the last thing they’ll ever see

She feels a little guilty about killing the guys, but on the other hand she doesn’t

They had the gall to kidnap her partner, so they can deal with the consequences of that

You are now not allowed to leave the house without her

She follows you everywhere

And she’s always super close

Yes, she even follows you to the bathroom

No one will ever touch you again

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Will Miller coming back from that last mission to his lady being so desperate and thirsty for her and her giving him exactly what he needs. Desperate, loving and smutty goodness please.

Thank you so much for sending an ask, lovelie! I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: William Ironhead Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: 18 + explicit smut, pinv, it's thirsty thursday.

“I’m home,” the duffle drops with a thud on the floor of your shared home. The lightning and thunder crash, illuminating the house, and your figure slumped on the couch where you’d been parked for five days. Pizza boxes and takeout containers litter the floor and you stumble to your feet, reaching out a hand towards him.

He’s different. But oh so familiar.

The tears fall as you press a palm gently to his cheek, “where the fuck were you?” Your voice is hoarse and scratchy from disuse, “I called you over and over again, and the guys and no one answered. Jesus Christ Will I thought you were dead.”

The words you had not dared utter aloud to this moment falls from your lips. “I-“ you put a hand to your chest, the tears coming more forceful now, “I thought you died, Will.”

He reaches for you, wrapping you up in a strong hug. He feels so warm, and real and you inhale a sob when he presses his lips to your neck. His lips soft and wet as he starts to suck at your skin.

“I’m alive,” he whispers, repeating it several times till you wonder if he’s not trying to reassure you but himself.

The both of you are in a daze of desperation, tugging the belt from his jeans, and pulling them down as he stumbles toward the couch, sitting down and pulling you down. He lifts your shirt and sucks your nipple through your bra, his hands ripping the fabric of your panties, and pulling you down to straddle his bare cock.

The room goes silent, both of you panting as you squeeze him in your warmth, "fuuuccckkk," he groans, bucking up into you. Will is always in control but you've never seen him like this, unhinged as he snaps his hips and buries himself inside you as deep as he can go. You grab his head and keep his eyes as he continues to fuck up into you, your hips moving without thought to meet him thrust for thrust.

He keeps your eyes as you feel the fire begin to burn inside you, soaking the couch with a silent scream. "So fucking perfect," he grunts, "cum," he commands, "cum again, right fucking now." His thumb slips between you, rubbing your clit almost painfully and your eyes roll back as you feel the pleasure run over you again and again. "That's a good fucking girl," he says desperate, "fuck, this pussy missed me. Not as much as I missed her."

"Tell me," he grabs your neck, your head snapping back as you meet his eyes, "tell me this pussy is mine," he bites down so hard on his lip, the blood dribbles down his chin."

"I'm yours," you gasp, his hand tightening for a brief second, "this pussy is yours baby."

"That's right," he lets go, wrapping his arms around your waist, pinning your arms to your side and pounding into you, "you're mine."

He cums with a groan, the warmth of his cum spilling over your swollen cunt, making a mess between you. But you could care less. You're both quiet, breathes tangling together as he pulls you closer, and your nuzzle into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist and squeezing, going stock still when he groans in pain.

Instantly you pull back, looking him up and down, “where?”

He drops his head and closes his eyes, “I didn’t want to worry you.”

Your laugh is loud and bitter, “to fucking late, baby. Now show me where.”

He unbuttons his shirt, pulling it off your shoulders and your breath hitches. Blood soaks through the bandages wrapped around his waist, “I got shot,” he opens his eyes, “it went straight through, I’m okay honey.”

“You got shot, Will. You disappeared for five days, and no one knew where you went. Don’t tell me you’re okay.”

"I had one goal," he moves further up the coach and you gasp, his cock moving against your clit from where he's still buried deep inside you. "I was going to get home to you, and I did." His eyes soften as he looks at you, cupping your cheek and brushing off the tears streaming down your cheek. "I love you so much, honey."

"I'm still mad," you shiver as he smiles, butterflies taking off in your tummy, "but I couldn't live without you, Will. I love you too."

"You'll never have too, honey, I promise."

[purifiedclitoris69]

In it together

Hiii. I am alive, just very busy and overwhelmed with living ig. College fucking sucks and so does everything else rn, but figured i get a lil blurb out before i have to lock back into my classes. hope you enjoy!! don’t really know what ima do w my series or when ima update so i am sorry bout that LOL. anyway bye for now 👋👋

You were absolutely exhausted. A 2 week mission with only 3 hours of sleep total takes an intense toll, even if you are a super soldier. Letting the burning hot water run down your back , flashes of the recent mission ran through your mind. The experiment files were horrific, so many deaths, so many children.

You had only been at the compound for about a year and a half now, the team rescuing you from Hydra’s control like Bucky. You were free of the brainwash but not of the memories and this long ass mission had brought it all right back to the surface. It was getting better, your in therapy, bonding with the team, learning how to control your strength, your growing. But this mission, feels like it’s all about to come crumbling down. It made you feel sick. Thoughts of losing yourself, the team… of losing, Natasha, it burned your throat.

What you have with Natasha is confusing, complicated, but nice. No one else knows the true nature of it but you two. Falling into each others beds continuously for the past 8 months, staying tangled in each other, every single night, cuddling, and giggling like little teen girls. The team simply thought you guys were close friends, both you two being spies, it wasn’t too hard to hide your extracurriculars. But you both knew it was more, so much more. You held each other in the most gentlest ways…the most loving, opting not to leave one another when you guys inevitably came undone. In front of the team, you had a front, a quiet brooding one, but with her, it was peaceful, relieving, you felt free, like yourself. It was absolutely terrifying.

Not realizing it tears were beginning to mix with the water running down your face and crescent marks formed in your palms from clenching your fists too hard. You love her. You’re in love with her, but how could you tell her, would you. Your whole life you’ve been used as a weapon, serving for the military, then hydra. You were dangerous…a monster. It was late, almost 2 am, you couldn’t go to her now, she need rest, not a burden. no matter how much you yearned for her warmth. Turning off the burning water, you stepped out into the steam filled bathroom. Drying off, you wrapped the towel around your waist and another draped over your shoulders, you opened the door to your bedroom-on your bed sat Nat. Dark circles surrounded her eyes, her hair was slightly ruffled, she wore an old shirt of yours, and some of her loose sleep shorts. She looked absolutely stunning, you couldn’t help but give a soft tired smile.

“hi.” she spoke softly with a matching smile.

“hi,” you answered stopped in place just taking her in.

“you gonna get dressed,” she smirked tiredly, “tho i don’t mind.”

“oh really” you joked walking over to her and cupping her face as she looked up at you, “i missed you,” you spoke softly the tiredness bringing out a transparency.

She leaned into your hand closing her eyes, “i missed you,” she answered. Your heart swelled and the flashes came back, you could hurt her, what if you lose it. Suddenly taking a step back her cheek still warm from your touch, her eyes flew open. You turned your back, getting dressed by your closet, “is everything okay,” she asked as you pulled your tank top over your head and braced yourself against your dresser.

You opened your mouth unsure what you wanted her to know, “yeah,” was all you could muster.

“I really did miss you,” she walked up behind you wrapping her arms around your waist and leaning her check against your back, just enjoying your smell, “i don’t sleep well without you anymore.”

“me either,” you turned around wrapping your own arms around her middle and looking to the side as hers went to your neck, “it was a rough mission,” you mumbled

“oh, baby,” she spoke, moving her hands to your face this time, “look at me please,” your eyes were burning with unshed tears as they met her soft deep green ones, “oh, my love, it’s okay,” she brought your head down to her shoulder as you released a shaky breath and let your arms fall from around her waist, “is there something else,” she asked dropping her own hands. You walked past her to sit on the bed not really sure where to start as you looked at your hands in your lap, “we don’t have to talk about it, it’s okay,” she spoke sitting beside you and gently take your hands in her own.

You finally looked back at her face, your eyes still glossy. You stared deep into each others eyes, “you’re so beautiful, Natasha,” you said memorizing every detail of her. She laughed quietly as a soft blush rose to her face.

“Shut up,” she said putting her forehead against hers.

She closed her eyes at the action as yours remained open, “I mean it, you’re the prettiest girl there is.”

Her blush grew as she pulled back and looked away slightly, “god i love you,” she mumbled out casually bringing shock to both your faces. She immediately pulled her hands away and stood from the bed, her mouth opening and closing unsure what to say as you looked at her, overwhelmed with emotions, “y/n i’m sorry i-“

“You do?” you asked getting up from the bed with her, “you love me?”

“I..” She spoke uncertain, taking a deep breath in, “y/n i’m in love with you.” You laughed slightly in disbelief. You moved towards her with purpose grabbing her waist and pulling her into a bruising kiss, pouring every amount of love into it as possible, like it was the last time, like you were consumed by everything Natasha. You both grinned wide into the kiss, forcing the two of you to break apart.

Taking a deep breath, “Tasha, I..,” the thoughts all came rushing back. Your going to hurt her, you don’t deserve this love, your going to lose it all.

She moved her hands down from your neck to intertwine with your own, “I know,” she whispered.

“I really do,” you said, your foreheads still pressed together, “I..,” your mouth fell open and closed absolutely terrified to say something wrong, “Im just scared,” you mumbled, closing your eyes, but never dropping your hold.

“Don’t be,” she answered, moving her hands back up to cup your face, “we’re in this together.”

[sugar-coat-it]

Body piercer! Matty part three 

Part 1, Part 2

I missed writing for this man so much my god he is my everything. If you haven’t read the other parts, go ahead and do that first for context perhaps! 

Fem! Reader

Contains: Mutual pining, cutie newly established relationship, mention of marijuana, proud concert bf Matty, him being protective of girlie at the show, exhibitionism (light petting in the crowd), rough quickie (unprotected), public sex (bathroom), fingering and fucking on the counter, Matty puts his hand over her mouth, mirror sex, choking (with jewelry)

WC: ~6.3k

—-------------------------------------

PART THREE- Your new boyfriend takes you to a punk show, ending with a quickie in the venue bathroom

—-------------------------------------

Both you and Matty knew in your hearts that this wasn’t just a fling. Flings didn’t stay up for endless hours on the phone, knowing damn well that you both had work the next morning. Flings also didn’t think about each other for every waking minute, always sending each other sentimental messages when things reminded them of each other. And, they certainly don’t touch you the way Matty touches you: like he’s like he’s been starved of you his entire life. He’d frankly been losing his mind, constantly daydreaming at work as he stared at the Polaroid of the two of you he kept at the front desk, knowing he couldn’t stand not calling you his girlfriend much longer. Not after the past couple of weeks you’d been seeing each other had been some of the best of his life. He was so antsy over the fact that he couldn’t actually call you his that it was eating him alive, where else would he ever find someone as perfect for him as you? His work friends teased him endlessly for being so head over his platform boot heels, telling him how he needed to lock you down as soon as possible. He endearingly calls you his “favorite client”, but you’ve quickly become his favorite everything (“No. You don’t even get it, mate,” he’d said, rambling on to some poor guy whose ears he was piercing, “she's like… the light of my life, really”). But, considering that you couldn’t close your eyes without picturing his pretty brown irises staring back at you, his eyes crinkling at the edges with all his twinkling, wild mirth, you weren’t faring much better.

 Just as you’d hoped from that first night together, his sleepy eyes were in fact now a constant in your life. He asked you to be his girlfriend after taking you back to the same cafe where you’d had your blind date. Needless to say, it was an enthusiastic yes on your part, and everything has been so much brighter since, you can hardly imagine your life without all of his ruckus. Your days with him are long and lazy, and the nights are even longer, often spent wrapped up in his sheets or giggling while curled up on his couch after a smoke session.

You’ve learned a lot about Matty in the time you’ve been together. Like his tendency to leave things in your flat, his ungodly marijuana tolerance levels, and his love for his puppy Mayhem. You’ve also found that he takes his music very seriously. Listening to music is like a ritual to him, one that he refuses to partake in with “trashy” music. You call it snobbery, he calls it having good taste, and lately, he’s been trying to share that taste with you. He’s almost been subtly brainwashing you into getting into his bands, playing their songs in his car, burning some of their tracks on his CD mixtapes for you (always scrawled with cute Sharpie doodles and bad handwriting), humming the melodies of his favorite songs to you while cuddling. Honestly, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working, you’ve found yourself adding his music to your playlists, combining your styles much like how the mohawked man has slowly rooted his way into every corner of your life. 

So of course, words couldn’t describe how thrilled he was when you agreed to see one of his favorite bands play at a punk rock show. He’d approached you with the idea tentatively, explaining that it was fine if you didn’t want to go, he’d just take one of his mates from work if so. The way his face lit up when you said yes, your heart could have burst as you watched his eyes sparkle with pure unbridled joy. Then, he leaned in and kissed every inch of your face, ignoring your giggles and protests of him tickling you while he declared how much you were going to love it. 

 When the day of the show arrived, you kept your outfit simple: baggy, ripped jeans, a white tank top, a band hoodie, and a studded belt you recovered from the depths of your closet, figuring you’d at least blend in with the grungier crowd that way. You put on one last thing to complete the look, hooking Matty’s chunky, silver chain (that of course, he’d left on your dresser) around your neck. You smile to yourself as you tuck it under your clothes, liking the feel of having him close to your heart like this. When did you become such a sap?

Meanwhile, Matty was pacing around your flat, making sure he had everything he needed and that you’d get there in time for doors. His reasoning for being punctual was much less about him than it was for you. He wanted you to fully experience being close to the stage because he knows how much you like to take pictures at shows, your constantly full phone storage being a telltale sign of that. He was going full-on concert boyfriend mode, also keeping your lipstick and your wallet in his little hip pouch so you wouldn’t have to worry about carrying anything but your phone. He’d clearly thought this through quite a lot, he’d been looking forward to it for weeks. 

A sudden kiss to his cheek quiets the hum of his overactive mind when you approach him, his furrowed brows sloping to a soft look of adoration as he insists on you standing still so he can take a good look at your outfit. He holds his fingers up in front of him in the shape of a square, squinting one eye closed like he’s framing you for a memory. Sure, the relationship was shiny and new, but something about the way he looked at you told you this wasn’t going to dull with time’s cruel hands, not any time soon at least. 

“Ohh, yeah. Very punk rock, baby,” he smiles slyly, chuckling as you roll your eyes. 

“Hardly! I don’t exactly have the wardrobe for this.”

“Shh, nonsense. You’re like a regular Joan Jett, babe. But hotter.”

“But hotter? Wow,” you laugh, now glancing down at the jewelry adorning his hands and wrists, “I like your bracelet.”

Matty cringes, sucking a breath through his teeth while looking up towards the ceiling. He recalls just how he’d obtained said bracelet as a teenager with something to prove. He was never a bad kid, just a highly restless one who got bored too easily. Besides, he never got in any real trouble since his parents would have strung him up by his toes otherwise. 

“Erm, thanks. I think I nicked it when I was a teen.”

“You were a delinquent!?” you exclaim, causing Matty’s loud laughter to ring through the apartment.

“That’s a strong term, innit? Let’s call it… misguided… and stupid. Now c’mon, out the door, miss.” 

You shake your head playfully as he shoos you out of the flat, imagining a younger version of your boyfriend getting into all sorts of mischief. You can almost perfectly picture his toothy, boyish grin as he runs around the streets of his hometown with his mates by his side, freckle-faced and carefree, his curls in an unruly mop on his head. You wonder if you would have gotten along with him in his younger, wilder days. An odd part of you hopes he still would have liked you. 

“Why do you still have it?” you ask as you start your walk to the train together. “What can I say? I’m unbelievably sentimental.”

The train ride is quiet, you share his wireless earbuds and listen to music side by side. The deal was that the queue of songs switched back and forth, you got to play one song, then him. He leans his head against your shoulder, the muss of hair atop the shaved sides of his head grazing your neck. He almost falls asleep as you start to scratch the top of his head. But, inevitably, all of his energy comes rushing back to him when the train comes to a halt. Immediately, he’s grabbing your hand to bound down the street to the venue, shouting about how good of a spot you’re going to get. 

—---------------------------------------------

Once inside, at a glance, you don’t exactly fit in here. A sort of insecurity festers in you as you eye some of the girls dressed in spikes and leather, they looked like they belonged here, and so did your boyfriend. But, you try to shake it off nonetheless, even if you didn’t feel nearly as cool as you wanted to. This place was like the high council of people who exclusively wear clothes with tears in them.

Matty stands close behind you as you pack in with the rest of the grungy-looking crowd. His hands are on your hips as he glances around, making sure that you have enough space to stand comfortably. He knows how these shows can get, and he’s made it his personal mission to make sure no one ruins the experience for you. He shoots a look at any guy who tries to stand too close to you, the coldness of his stare sending them inching away from your personal space with cowardice. In an instant, the mean look is wiped off his face as he glances down at you, seeing how happy you seem to be there with him. He leans down, the cool metal of his chain grazing your neck as he speaks near your ear, just loud enough so you can hear him over the buzz of chatter throughout the venue. 

“Can you see alright?” he asks, giving your hips a little squeeze. 

You nod with a smile, having a fairly clear view of the stage. You’re only about three rows back thanks to Matty’s punctuality. You turn your head, grasping the necklace around his neck gently before pulling him down further so you can kiss his cheek. A grin breaks out on your boyfriend’s face, he can’t help but chuckle at your little move, he loves it when you get bold with him. His lips brush against your ear as he murmurs “little minx” before standing back up to his full height.

Matty talks over the pre-show music as he tells you a bit of background about the bands playing tonight, prattling on about who plays what and what makes them so cool. You listen to him with an enamored look plastered on your face, nodding along even when you have no clue what he’s talking about, but what else is new? It only makes you adore him more with every detail rattled off from the depths of his mind.

“... and this one here I don’t know shit about, to be honest. I reckon they’re probably fine though,” he shrugs, showing you the lineup on his phone. 

You squint at the screen, tapping your nail against one of the names you recognize because of him. You blink up at him prettily, knowing he’s going to get a kick out of what you say next.

“This is the one with the guy who plays the drums with two pedals, right?” you recall, tilting your head at him, knowing damn well that you’re laying it on thick. 

“Yes!! Yes, exactly,” he beams, his eyes instantly lighting up before he presses an enthusiastic kiss to your temple, “That’s my fuckin’ girl. The coolest girlfriend.”

Soon, the show begins, and Matty lets out an excited whoop as the first band makes their entrance, the one he’d bought the tickets for in the first place. He lets go of your hips, taking a small step back to give you the room to dance if you want to. He’s so considerate of you, it makes a glowing sort of warmth swell in your chest. You glance back at him and he gives you two thumbs up, his face scrunching up with a grin that’s so earnestly Matty, you have to resist the urge to just grab him and kiss him till your lips are raw right in the middle of the crowd. Not to mention how fucking good he looks tonight, his tank top allowing his tattooed arms to be on full display, and it should be illegal how tightly those black leather pants cling to his legs.

Your attention turns back to the stage as the first notes ring through the small venue, grungy guitar chords echoing off of the walls. Nothing gives you the same feeling as live music does, the pure thrill it makes rush through you is unmatched (sorry, Matty). The music is harsh, it grates on your ears, but in the best way possible. It’s invigorating, fucking electrifying, it’s thrumming in the hollow of your chest. You feel alive. Matty leans over to see it all happen from just a step away, watching the stage lights reflect in your eyes. He hadn’t looked at the band once, this was far more mesmerizing than anything that could be happening up there. You’ve completely captured his attention, and when you start bobbing your head to the beat and singing along to the chorus, Matty almost drops to one knee right then and there. He’s already mentally noted that this song will in fact be played at your wedding reception.

As the set goes on, his eyes stay on you for the majority of the time, he’s just so taken by watching you have this much fun hearing his music, which is now your music too. He’s simply beaming with pride. Every time you look back at him with that thrilled look on your face while you’re moving to the rhythm only solidifies to him that you’re his absolute dream girl. And of course, he’s having the time of his life too. Matty mouthes along to all of the words, nodding his head in a way that makes his quaffed mohawk bounce with his movements. And, shit, it’s hot in the crowd, you can feel the heat radiating off of the bodies moving around you. The hoodie you brought may have been an oversight, you can practically feel your mascara melting off of your lashes. 

The show goes on, and when the moshing in the middle of the crowd gets increasingly rowdy, one man gets shoved and sent hurtling past the bodies between you and the mosh pit. You quickly hold your hands out to brace for the impact, knowing this can’t end well as you prepare to meet your leather-jacketed doom. The man is visibly very intoxicated and he would have stumbled straight into your body from the momentum if Matty’s hands hadn’t shot out to block him, catching him by his shoulders.

“Oi! Watch where you’re fuckin’ going, fuck’s sake!” Matty spits, sending him back toward the pit with a light push. 

Now, had Matty done his fair share of moshing and getting absolutely catapulted into other people at breakneck velocity? Yes. It’s not even entirely the guy’s fault that he almost crashed into you, he was pretty drunk and didn’t have his wits or his balance about him, but in Matty’s mind, he might as well have tried to tackle you to the ground WWE style. 

“I could have caught him!” you argue over the music, laughing at the bitter look on your boyfriend's face.

Matty raises an eyebrow at you and shakes his head with an amused smile, but doesn’t argue. Maybe you could have, but he wasn’t about to let some sloshed idiot break his girlfriend's back because that’s his job, dammit. 

The band’s set is finished with a bang, the final chords echoing in your ears as you try to catch your breath from moving almost nonstop, your heart thundering against your ribs. You turn around to face Matty with a giant grin plastered on your face, letting out a breathless, excited laugh. He just chuckles, eyeing the strands of hair sticking to your face from the sheen of sweat, your smudged makeup rimming your wide eyes. He’s not in much better shape, his tank top is clinging to his body like a second skin. By this point, your hoodie feels like it has its own climate, and you’re dying to peel it off. 

“Fun?” he asks, as you start to lift the fabric over your head.

“Oh my god, yeah,” you breathe, your voice muffled by the hoodie. 

“I-”

His next words die in his throat as his eyes immediately snap to your chest, his breath catching as he spots the clear outline of your nipple piercings through your drenched, white tank top and- was that one of his chains around your neck? He feels a stir in his tight leather pants as his mouth slightly drops, he can’t remember ever being so instantly and completely turned on. Heat ripples through his body, climbing up to his face as he shamelessly stares at your tits. Not only were you showing off his skillful work, but your pretty neck was adorned with the chain he’d forgotten all about at your place. It might even look better on you than it does on him.

 You’re tying your hoodie around your waist when you catch the look on his face, your brows knitting together with confusion till you follow his gaze and find your piercings proudly displayed through your shirt. As the realization dawns on you, you look up at your boyfriend with a coy smile. Matty shudders, lust crowding his mind as he struggles to come up with a coherent thought, one that isn’t wildly pornographic. He can actually feel his hands tense with the urge to grasp, to lay claim to you with his fingertips. You simply look up at him through your lashes, watching him short-circuit right before your eyes. 

Before he has the chance to say or do anything, the next band comes onto the stage, the crowd roaring to life a second time. You give him a knowing look before turning back around to face the direction of the music. Matty swallows hard, raking a hand through his mohawk like he’s grappling with demons… and losing.

The music is nothing more than a pulsing beat in his skull, his attention is fully on the back of your head. He begins to inch forward to you, his hands finding a home on your hips while you vibe to the beat. He brings your hips back against him, feeling your movements stutter as the protrusion in his trousers presses into your ass as if to say “Feel what you did to me?”. You get the message loud and clear, draping your weight against him, your head lolling back against his shoulder as you both rock to the beat of the drums, sweaty skin to sweaty skin. Matty’s hands begin to wander, mapping over the damp fabric of your tank top, up your stomach, over your ribs till- oh. You gasp, the stage lights strobing under your closed eyes as he squeezes your tits through your top. Matty can distinctly feel the barbells through the thin fabric, it drives him fucking wild. Your lips part as you melt into him like honey, your skin feels like it’s on fire as the music blares through the venue. Your stomach swoops when he dares to flick the piercings with his fingertips, danger humming in your veins as he gets bolder, as if you’re not surrounded by a sea of people. Your eyes snap open, you quickly glance around to find that everyone’s far too enthralled with the show to notice, not that Matty would give a shit if they did. No one can hear the way you whimper when he pinches your nipples. You stare down at the large hands that possessively grope your breasts, feeling a throb resound between your thighs. 

“Matty, you said this was the band you don’t know, right?” you call to him, your voice uneven and unnaturally high-pitched. 

His heavily lidded eyes look almost black with the way they darken as he reads between the lines. Even if it was one of the bands he liked, he’s pretty sure absolutely nothing could stop him from doing what comes next, not when his dick is this hard, and you’ve teased him this salaciously. Wordlessly, Matty lets go of your chest and grabs your hand, leading you through the crowd towards the exit. He moves fast, the urgency in his strides and on his face likely making people move out of the way quicker. You’d feel concerned about losing your spot up front if your mind wasn’t so scrambled with need, your legs rushing to keep up with your lanky boyfriend. 

Your head is spinning as he swiftly leads you into the nearest gender-neutral bathroom. Matty’s hands are on you the moment he closes and locks the door, he’s all over you in every sense of the term. You breathe in the musk of his sweat between the melding of your lips. The kiss is messy, it’s searingly hot as he desperately licks into your mouth, his fingertips digging into your hip bones. He backs you up blindly until your hips meet the bathroom counter, his hands reaching to undo the hoodie tied around your waist and toss it aside without breaking the kiss once. You didn’t think you could get much hotter than you were in the crowd, but now you’re burning up from the inside with white-hot desire.

Matty hastily turns you around to face the bathroom mirror, tagged with graffiti and littered with lipstick prints at the border. It was clear that the space was well-loved, but clean. A culmination of every aspiring artist and sticker enthusiast in the area, almost no spot on the wall was left untouched. Your eyes are drawn away from the decor as Matty grasps your jaw from behind you, turning your head to make you meet the almost feral look in his eyes through the mirror. He holds you that way as he leans down to press dire, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, his other hand snaking down your front to unbutton your pants. The feeling of his tongue stud soothing over faded love bites only makes you weaker in the knees. Matty fumbles with the zipper of your jeans for a moment before he shoves the clothing down your legs, the fabric pooling around your ankles. It’s clear that he’s not wasting time with his usual delicate, worshiping caresses of your thighs while he undresses you, this is an electrified frenzy. 

“No bra, baby? Is that how you want to play?” he mutters, his lips grazing the column of your neck teasingly. 

“I-I didn’t-” you begin to protest, only to be cut off by your own moan as he gives a rough pinch to your nipple through your top.

Matty follows the curve of your midsection with his hand, intense honey-colored eyes locked on you through your reflection, the image swirled at the edges with colorful spray paint. A shudder reverberates through your body as his fingers venture lower, dipping below the waistband of your soaked panties. Your body instinctually arches backward against his, mewling when his calloused fingertips brush against your swollen clit. It’s like he can light up every one of your senses with just a graze, your breath getting shallower by the second. You feel his stiff cock twitch in his trousers as you press yourself impossibly closer to him, every inch of his glowing skin flush against your back. Matty continues his loving assault on your neck as his thick digits gather the arousal pooling between your thighs. Your dazed vision trails downward as you stare at his hand shoved inside your panties from behind you, watching the fabric shift with every movement of his skilled hand. You whine as he circles your slit before beginning to sink his slicked fingers into you, your eyes squeezing shut as the dizzying pleasure thrums in your veins. 

“Shhh. You know how much I love your pretty noises, baby, but be good, okay? Can you do that? Don’t want anyone to know what we’re up to, do you?” he murmurs, dragging his plush bottom lip against your ear lobe. 

You nod wordlessly, afraid that if you open your mouth, noise will overflow from you uncontrollably, his fingers being knuckle-deep in you is just too damn good. If you don’t control yourself, anyone outside could hear you, could know how good your boyfriend is filling you with his fingers, satisfying you to your very core. The thought of it alone makes your heart hammer in your chest harder. You don’t want them to know… because that would be wrong, it would be undignified… it’d be… kind of hot.

 His digits stretch you open as he begins to diligently pump them in and out of you, curling them towards the spot that he knows will make you see stars. He works quickly, his pace is almost feverish from his determination to make you fall to pieces as efficiently as he can. Matty’s other hand is groping your breast, squeezing the fullness of it, his rings pressing into your flesh through your thin tank top. You bite down on your lip hard enough that you think you might tear the flesh open, desperately trying to keep your whimpers quiet. Matty’s gaze on you is cautionary, his eyebrows slightly raised like he’s testing you, seeing just how much you can take. 

The last of your defenses come crumbling down as the pad of his thumb presses against your clit, the flood of sensations making a moan burst from your throat as he begins to draw tight circles on the bundle of nerves. In an instant, Matty’s hand is off of your chest and is clasped over your mouth, muffling any noise. Fuck.

“I mean it. Pipe down, or I’ll stop,” he says sternly, smirking at you as he feels your walls flutter around his fingers. 

“No- no, please don’t stop,” you babble against his palm like the idea of it was simply unbearable.

Matty’s hand stays firmly over your mouth as he withdraws his fingers from inside you, ignoring the way you squirm in protest, whining uselessly. He tugs your ruined panties down your legs, letting them join your pants in a heap around your ankles. It’s almost embarrassing how you can hardly contain your desire, but he likes it that way, knowing how needy you are.

“Matty, please, fuck, need it,” you mumble, and he can see the way your desire is clawing at you from the inside just from a glance.

“Be patient for me, my love,” he smiles, hurriedly pulling himself out of his uncomfortably skin-tight pants with his free hand, “You’ll get what you want. Being stuffed full with my cock, hm?”

You whimper as Matty nudges your legs further apart with his foot, leaning you forward over the counter onto your elbows. He whistles lowly at the sight of you, his eyes following down your spine, over the curve of your ass, and to your dripping pussy. You tremble slightly as he reaches between your legs, collecting your honey on his fingers before spreading it over his shaft, slicking himself with your arousal. A whine vibrates against the palm Matty holds over your mouth as you swing your hips in a desperate attempt to entice him. He just chuckles darkly, keeping his hand securely in place as starts to guide his cock through your folds, the head kissing your aching clit as he rubs it back and forth. 

Matty doesn’t waste a second longer, you can hardly process it before he’s pushing inside of you, gasping as he fills you inch by inch. His fingertips press into the side of your face as he tightens his hold on your mouth to muffle your mewls, watching as your lashes flutter, your face contorting with pleasure. He can feel your hot, heavy breaths fanning into his palm, your chest heaving as he bottoms out inside of you. Matty groans loudly, tossing his head back as he’s fully surrounded by your velvety warmth, forgetting his own volume rules that he’d set for you. Hypocrite.

“Oh, fuck, you feel so good,” he sighs, reaching to pull your tank top over your breasts, “Stay like that for me, yeah? Wanna see your perfect tits.”

He barely allows you a moment to breathe before he’s snapping his hips against you roughly, letting out a strained grunt with every thrust. Sensations trickle up your spine like flickering flames as a muffled cry spills out of you. Matty angles his hips just right, hitting so deep inside you that you feel as though you’re being split open by each drive of his cock, it’s mind-numbing. Your whole body jolts against the counter with his purposeful movements, the edge of the porcelain biting into your hip bones. He can hardly focus on just one thing, his gaze darting from where he’s disappearing inside of you, to your gorgeous face, to your breasts. Matty’s raspy voice makes your eyes refocus on him, you watch in the mirror as he licks his teeth like he wants to devour you whole.

“You see how pretty you look? No, no, sweetheart, don’t look at me, look at yourself. God, isn’t she pretty?” he drawls, “You look so sexy, wearing my chain like that while you’re taking my cock.”

At his instruction, you meet your own eyes through the reflection, your eyebrows sloping as you realize that he’s right, you do look pretty when he’s fucking you. Your rosied cheeks, your blown pupils, your glowing skin… and your boyfriend’s hand over your mouth. Your chain bounces against your collarbones in tandem with your pierced tits, it’s no wonder he’s loving this position so much, he gets to watch everything at once. While you’re gazing at yourself, Matty reaches around and begins to rub two fingers on your clit, swirling them in intoxicatingly quick figure eights. You watch your own eyes go wide as the pleasure ricochets through your bones, making you light-headed. This must be the expression Matty lives for when he’s got you like this, the face to his sweetest wet dreams. You’re almost mesmerized by seeing yourself get railed to high heaven, it’s sort of an odd feeling.

In one swift motion, Matty lets go of your face and grasps the chain around your neck, pulling it taut against your throat from behind, ripping a shocked cry from your lips. 

“Ohh, she liked that one,” he grins lazily, tilting his head back with a groan as he feels your walls clamp down on him like a vice, “Shit, not gonna last if you keep doin’ that, god damn.”

It feels like he’s stolen the air directly from your lungs as he lightly chokes you with the silver links you’d so slickly “borrowed” from him. Even just the slight restriction of oxygen has you reeling, your eyes rolling back as your hands claw at the counter, your whole body buzzing with mortifying heights of exhilaration. It’s a dizzying combination of thrill and precarious risk as Matty keeps a tight hold on the chain while fucking you with such vigor that you don’t feel attached to your body, the counter being your only loose grasp on reality. It only makes every drive of his cock feel that much more visceral, the tension coiling tighter in your belly. Heat prickles at your cheeks and the bridge of your nose at the purely obscene sounds of him thrusting into your sopping cunt, skin on skin echoing through the small space while his fingers abuse your clit.

It’s all building up so fast, quicker than usual due to Matty’s frenzied rhythm, his hips meeting yours again and again, unrelentingly. You bite back a wail as the tension so deep inside you reverberates in crackling pangs, threatening to break you to pieces as you arch backward. Your hips writhe against his hand both like you’re chasing the friction and trying to thrash away from its intensity. He can tell you’re on the edge of euphoria, teetering with every swipe of his fingers, every slam of his hips. He gives the chain a harsh tug, knowing it’ll send you spiraling into the depths of pleasure just beyond your fingertips.

“Fuck!” you gasp, one of your hands flying to grip his wrist as your mind goes impossibly blank, your nails digging into his skin, “I’m gonna- I-I can’t!”

“Shit, me too, angel. So close. Oh, fuck, cum for me, sweet girl. Cum for me while I fill you up,” he grunts, a burst of energy coming over him as he manages to piston into you even more brutally. 

It crashes over you like a thunderous wave, spiraling through you from your dizzied head to the tips of your curled toes. He lets go of the chain, putting his hand over your mouth again to stifle your cry, the disorienting rush of oxygen almost making your knees give out from underneath you, and they just might have if Matty hadn’t kept you supported against the counter. It feels like pure white light is fizzling under your eyelids as Matty makes you reach the stars with your climax, dousing you in pulsating bliss as you clench around him tightly. He lets out a deep, animalistic sound as he spills inside of you, warmth flooding your insides as he fucks you through your orgasm, his rhythm beginning to falter from the effort. 

“Fuuuck!” he hisses through gritted teeth, along with other breathy strings of profanities. 

Slowly, his body stutters to a stop, giving one last roll of his hips before he collapses over you as delicately as he can, enveloping you with his chest to your back. He lovingly presses kisses to the back of your neck as your head hangs forward slightly, both of you gasping to catch your breath. 

“H-holy shit, babe. You’re so good…you’re fucking incredible,” he mutters, seeming just as dazed as you are. 

He can’t seem to stop complimenting you and loving on you as he keeps you held up with his hands on your hips, rubbing little circles into your skin as you both come down from the highest of highs. The afterglow clouds your head in a way that makes you feel like you’re floating with Matty being your only anchor to the ground. 

“Matty…” you mumble, reaching back blindly for his face.

“I’m right here. Right here, love,” he whispers, guiding your palm to his cheek. 

You smile warmly as you feel the scruffy sides of his head at your fingertips, Matty keeping his hand over yours sweetly. At the same time you both glance upwards at the mirror, letting out simultaneous giggles as you appreciate the state you’re in. He leans to kiss your cheek, peering into your eyes adoringly through the reflection, pulling your top back down over your breasts. 

“Oh my god… we’re a mess,” you snort, rubbing aimlessly at your runny mascara with your free hand.

“You mean you’re a mess, I look damn good,” he jokes, starting to slowly ease you both back up into a standing position. 

You both let out a breathy sound as he pulls out of you slowly, his cum beginning to streak down your thighs. Of course, Matty stares, swallowing thickly like he’ll never quite get used to the sight while he shimmies back into his pants. Diligently, he reaches for a handful of paper towels, keeping a gentle hold on your hip. You reach to try and smack his arm when he laughs at the way your legs are trembling, your knees wobbling due to how hard he’d railed you. He dodges the blow, grinning at you triumphantly.

Matty gently wipes away the residue of his pearly release, whispering a hushed “I know, I know” when you squirm at the sensitivity. Once he discards the paper towels, he kneels down to pull your underwear and your jeans back up, kissing his way up the outside of your leg as he does so, looking into your eyes with a playful glint. He kisses you deeply while he buttons your pants with nimble hands, not even letting you lift a finger as he takes care of his girl. You throw your arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss as he teases his tongue piercing along your bottom lip just to make you shiver. 

“My perfect girl,” he mumbles against your mouth.

You stay in the bathroom for just a little longer, kissing and whispering sweet things to each other while your bodies fully come down, Matty shouting at whoever keeps intermittently knocking on the door to fuck off. You can’t help but feel a little tinge of guilt in your stomach for “christening” the restroom the way you did, but you highly doubt you were the first. 

After he reassures you that the makeup streaked down your cheeks is “hardcore” and that you should leave it the way it is, you finally leave to re-enter the show (not before one final, drawn-out kiss, of course). Your boyfriend keeps you close by his side, his fingers interlocked with yours as you find yourselves at the very back of the pit, scattered with only a few other people. Matty guides your arms around his neck, grinning at you like a fool as you start to rock back and forth to the rhythm of the drums. His smile is infectious as he leans in to rest his forehead against yours, singing to you when the song reaches its chorus. He looks incredibly dorky as mimics the wail of the guitar solo, swinging his hips while his hands rest comfortably on your waist, almost like you’re about to slow dance. You tell him as such and Matty just tosses his head back with a laugh like a little kid. His eyes are sparkling, but not just from the iridescent stage lighting, it’s the look he gets only when he’s with you. You feel your heart swell in your chest as you continue to dance like you’re the only two in the venue, and he looks at you like you’re the only woman in the whole world. 

—-----------------------------------------

SO I was a liar and I did write another part. I intended this to be a blurb but I had so many more thoughts about them and their relationship eeeeee

The ending was soooo “do you wanna dance, dance at the back of the hall”

I love them. I need them to be happy forever actually. 

This one is dedicated to my lovely lovely friend B (@haveyouseenherlately) thank you so much for the ideas, you get body piercer like no one else, queen. Love you!!!

Go check out her stuff if you haven’t it SLAYS <3

[miniwheat77]

Power Hungry. (Graves x Virgin!Reader.)

!nsfw, smut, unprotected sex, non con, virginity loss, Graves is pushy, military talk, blood, violence, no minors- you know the drill!

Soap is not dead on this blog, he’s alive and well. That was not canon here! XD NOT EDITED

It’s no secret that Commander Graves has a thing for you.

He has since the day he met you.

He didn’t care who was around when he flirted with you. He didn’t care who heard. You didn’t mind him or his flirting at first. You got along with him pretty well. You didn’t see him too much because you were apart of task force 141 and he was with his own group. But that didn’t mean you didn’t like him. You of course had no intentions of ever pursuing his advances. You were a scared virgin and that was that.

Things changed when he took over Alejandro’s base and attacked Soap.

He held you inside Alejandro’s base alongside him. Had you tied up. He killed many innocent people and threatened you. Held a gun to your head.

It was a weird day when Soap and Rudy said he died in the tank, and you heard nothing about him for months.

Until you were sitting in that office talking to Shepherd.

“Without an army you’ve got nothing.” Gaz spoke. You were standing next to him. “Wrong again boys.” When Graves appeared on screen your stomach fell. Knowing what he’s capable of. What he said he’d do to you if you didn’t cooperate. You tried to hide yourself behind Gaz. “Un-fucking-believable.” Soap groans. “Soap… you miss me?” You can hear the smile in his voice as he says it. You hear nothing but ringing in your ears for the next few minutes. Not until you hear your name and freeze up.

“Is that Y/N behind you, Gaz?” Graves smiles. He bites his lip and you freeze. “That’s none of your concern.”

“Oh come on. Let me see her. Show me that pretty face.” Gaz backs himself up into you. Giving you a chance to get out the door without being seen anymore by him. You’d have to thank him later. “It’s alright. She’s got some hard feelings.. I’ll make it up to her.” He smirks. “Fuck off.” Gaz growls. “You tied her up and threatened to kill her, I hope the next time she sees you she shoots you.” Soap rolls his eyes. Graves laughs on the other end.

———

You’re stood next to Gaz when Graves tries to shake his hand. Gaz doesn’t make a move and you have to stifle back a laugh. You can tell it eats Graves alive that none of you will be nice to him, but that’s not something that’s going to change. Not ever. His betrayal was unforgivable.

When Makarov got away, the task force stepped back. They had no intel, no leads. Nothing. Shadows were staying on the base with 141 and you had live alongside them until they went elsewhere. So you kept to yourselves mostly. You did your very best to avoid Graves. Until you couldn’t. You were on watch, but your partner had changed. You had no idea who was waiting up there for you. Who you’d be on watch with for the next couple of hours. You expected maybe Captain Price or another shadow. But you didn’t expect him to be waiting there for you.

His smirk was knowing, he’d purposely put himself as your partner on watch from here on out and you felt your blood boiling inside your veins. Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

Why couldn’t he have been a good guy? Someone you could trust?

He stands up from his chair. His smile beaming as he made his way toward you. “Y/N.. how you been honey?” He smiles. By the time he comes to a halt there’s barely a foot of space between the both of you. Which gives you the perfect distance for a right hook. He doesn’t expect it, not from you. You’re sweet and kind.

He stumbled back, recovering from the hit. His eyes are wide when he looks up at you. Wiping his now bloodied lip.

He laughs. In complete disbelief.

“My name is Y/N. That’s how you’ll address me. If you don’t want to sit on watch alone for the next couple weeks, you’ll shut the fuck up and leave me alone.” Your demeanor is strong. Your chest is puffed up and you’re standing your ground. Something he didn’t expect from you. You pass by him, going to sit down. “Oh come on, you’re not still mad are you?” You freeze up. Swallowing hard. “You tied me up, held a gun to my head, and than went after my task force. I’m fucking furious that you’re still standing on two feet.” The venom in your voice stings him a bit. How you could hate him so bad.

He knows he deserves it.

“What’s it gonna take huh? To prove myself to you?” He breathes. “You’re a fucking dog, a filthy traitor. You’re never going to be anything more than the dirt on my shoes.” You make your way for the door. “You and I? Will never be friends. Not ever. As far as I’m concerned, you’d have been better off if you pulled the fucking trigger.” You seethe as you slam the door shut, going down the stairs of the watch tower and leaving him up there alone. You knew you’d have to come back tomorrow, but for now, you needed to get away from him.

You think about him a lot. You always have.

You think about how flirty he was when you first met him. How he’d make you blush. He’d wink at you in passing and your stomach would fill with butterflies. You always thought it was a stupid crush but your virginity is what kept you away. You were scared to lose it, and avoided the topic at all costs.

Seeing him now makes you realize it was more than just a crush. You had real feelings for him deep down and his betrayal cut deep and hurt worse than anything you’d ever been through. If he liked you like he said he did, why was hurting you so easy? If you like someone, how could you? You lost sleep over it, and the time you thought he was dead, you dreamt of him. You would dream about how it was all a mistake, that it wasn’t real. How he’d come running to your aid and hold you close to him. Reassuring you it was all fake.

And than you’d wake up. And he’d be dead again.

He was a lot easier to get over when he was dead. It was easier to cope with because of his betrayal. You shouldn’t care that he was dead because of what he’d done and that’s how you got through the grieving process. But now, you didn’t know how to feel. He was alive but it seemed harder to cope with.

The next day on watch, you were up there first. He came inside but didn’t say anything to you. Thank god.

He leaves you alone for the most part. Only asking certain questions about how the base worked. You were short with him.

It went that way for weeks. You kept to yourself and so did he.

It was him who finally broke the silence.

“I wasn’t going to hurt you, you know.”

You turn to look at him, eyes darkening. For a second he thinks he made a mistake. But he doesn’t stop. “I.. I was just trying to scare you. So that you wouldn’t run away.” He swallows down a lump forming in his throat. “I knew you’d be pissed. Of course I did. But.. I thought maybe if I kept you close to me for long enough, you’d understand.”

He sighs. “I was delusional. I was terrified.” He looks down at his hands. “I acted purely out of fear, Shepherd told me about the consequences of what could happen if those found out about what had happened despite me not knowing. I was desperate to cover it up. He told me to kill you but I couldn’t. That’s why I kept you tied up. I didn’t want to.”

“He used me and threatened me. He blackmailed me because he made me apart of it. And Y/N.” He breathes. Looking at you. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry for the hurt that I’ve caused you. It was never my intention, I tried to avoid it.”

You look down. It’s silent and he’s clearly waiting for you to say something. “What’s done is done.” You breathe. “Maybe you can spend the rest of your life making up for it. And maybe when you’re dead I’ll forgive you.”

And just like that, you’re gone again.

———

For the next week or so, he decides to get close to Gaz.

He offers to help him any chance he gets and Gaz always says no. But Graves jumps in to help anyways. It drives Gaz crazy at first, until he gets used to it.

Gaz is helping work on a Humvee and Graves is passing him tools, offering to be a runner if he needed anything. “This is about Y/N isn’t it?” Gaz asks out of the blue one day. “What?”

“You’re only being friendly to me because of her, right?”

Graves sighs. “Gaz. I’m trying to make it up to you guys. I know it’ll take forever, but I’m trying.” He mumbles. “What I did was fucked up and if the shoes were on the other feet I’d have put a bullet in my head already and I’m thankful you haven’t because I know you want to.”

“She liked you.”

Graves freezes up. “What?”

“She did. She had feelings for you. She buried them deep afterward but she did. Had nightmares about you for fucking months after you died.” Gaz mumbles. “I… didn’t know that.” He sighs. “Of course you didn’t, because you don’t care about anyone but yourself.” Gaz wants to ring graves neck for hurting you. You’re like his little sister and seeing you be in love with someone who’s so selfish eats him alive. “I’m trying here. Okay?”

“You scared her.” Gaz slides out from under the Humvee. It’s where he’d been working. He picks up a towel and wipes his hands off. “I’ll never forget the look on her face when you betrayed her. When you betrayed all of us. She kept a fake face on, made us all think she was okay when she cried herself to sleep for days afterward. She’d never been so scared, she didn’t know who to trust or what to do. Captain Price had to send her off on leave for a couple weeks so that she could recover. She tried so hard to hide how she felt. Seeing you probably eats her alive, and having to work alongside with you I’m sure has ruined any kind of healing she’s done.” Gaz shakes his head. “And what the fuck she ever saw in you…” he scoffs. Throwing the towel down. “She’d be better off if you had died in that tank.”

He walks away, leaving Graves standing there alone, again.

He hated how bad this task force hated him, but he understood.

Soap is who he approached next, trying to keep him company. But Soap barely showed him the time of day and when he did it was the bare minimum. Soap hated Graves. With a burning passion. But that didn’t mean he stopped. Soap did all kinds of chores all over base, so Graves started helping.

He worked alongside Gaz, doing grunt work in the shop where Gaz tried to learn everything he could about the Humvee’s. He helped Soap with chores around the base, every single day. When he wasn’t busy that’s what he was doing.

For two hours a day, he was sitting up on watch with you. He never said a word, only did what he was supposed to.

When it came to missions, he let Captain Price control everything. He told the Shadows to follow his orders and do what they’re told and Graves did too. He kept his mouth shut and did exactly what they wanted.

On these missions, Graves watches Ghost like a hawk. Making sure he was safe, taking down a couple men that sneak up behind Ghost along the way. Graves knows to keep his distance and try to make amends by staying away, Ghost is too dangerous.

At the end of the day, if Graves dies on a mission, not a single person is going to care. He did something unforgivable, something he can’t come back from. If one of them decides they’ve had enough of him one day and kills him, they’ll cover it up and said he died in action. And that will be the end of Phillip Graves. It eats him alive day and night, but nothing compares to the way he’s hurt you. He thinks about back then, the way you’d smile and blush in his presence, roll your eyes at his flirting. Now, you were cold. Falling in love with him, or catching feelings. He doesn’t know which.

Having feelings for him destroyed you. Turned you into a cold hearted person. Who killed and served like there was nothing to it. All of the life you’d once been full of was drained because of him. Because he was supposed to protect you, but he was the one on the other side of the gun to your head. He stabbed you in back and you trusted him so much.

“What do you want from me Graves?” Soap finally snaps one day. Graves is helping him clean up the mess hall. Soap is stacking the chairs up and graves is sweeping as he goes. “I don’t want anything from you.” He mumbles. “What? You’ve been following every single one of us around like a lost puppy doing anything and everything we say, if you think that’s how you’re going to win us over it’s not going to work.” He scoffs. Graves shakes his head. “That’s no my intentions, Soap.” He sighs. “Than what are you doing?”

“I just want to work alongside you guys without hating each other. I can’t take back what I did, but I can be better. That’s what I’m trying to do.”

Soap rolls his eyes. “You betrayed us. We’re never going to like you. Not ever.”

“And that’s okay. But I’m going to do better and I’m not trying to prove that to you, I’m proving it to me.” Graves continues sweeping the floor. Leaving Soap with nothing else to say.

It goes on like this for months.

The task force worries of course, they don’t want to get comfortable with him because the last time they did that, he tried to kill all of them.

But they get used to it. To his help.

———

Graves follows after you. Hiding in the shadows. It’s late at night.

He doesn’t know what he’s thinking. Maybe he just isn’t thinking at all.

He knocks at your door quietly and you’re confused as you open it. But your heart rate picks up when you see who it is. What on earth is he doing at your door so late?

“Hey.” He breathes. He steps toward you and you hurriedly step back. “What do you want?” You say quickly. He raises his hands in surrender. “I just wanted to talk to you.” He breathes.

He can see your pupils are blown wide, you’re on edge. Had he really scared you that bad. He can see you clutching your sidearm. He sighs. “I swear I’m not going to do anything. You don’t have to be scared.” He breathes. “I’m not scared. The only thing between me and you is a bullet.” You breathe. “Just.. please. Talk to me?” He bites his lower lip, looking down at the ground. You sigh. “What do you want?”

He steps into your room, closing the door behind himself. “I just wanted to ask you..” he breathes. “Is it true you have feelings for me?”

“Had.” You finish.

“Okay.. so it’s true. You did have feelings for me.” He sighs. “Yeah. Until you betrayed us and put a gun to my head.”

He winces as the words leave your mouth. “I.. I wasn’t going to hurt you. I was just trying to scare you.”

He sits down on the edge of your bed, you’re standing in front of him, just a few feet away. “It worked.” Your eyes darken. You draw your gun from its holster, pointing it right at him. “Maybe it’s your turn.”

He closes his eyes as you move closer, pressing the barrel of your gun right to his forehead. He winces when you cock it.

“I’m sorry Y/N.”

He reopens his eyes, seeing that your eyes have filled with tears. Your hands have begun to tremble. “You’re not sorry.”

“I am. I’ve never regretted anything more. I hurt you, and I’ll never forgive myself for that.” He breathes.

Just as a tear slides down your cheek, you spin around to hide it. Wiping your cheek and shoving your gun back into its holster. “You need to go.”

“No.”

“Leave.”

“I’m not going. Not until you know how sorry I am.”

“Just go!” You wipe your eyes. You don’t want him to see you cry. “No.. not this time.” He breathes. He stands up, pulling you into him. You fight him until you’re sobbing so hard that you can’t contain it anymore and finally you relax back into him. He holds you against him while you cry. He pulls you back into the bed, your back against his chest as he holds you tight against him. You’re sitting in his lap but he’s got his arms wrapped around you. You’re still trying to fight him through sobs but you’re weak. He swallows hard, a lump growing in his throat.

Eyes fill his own tears. “I hate you.” You cry. “I hate you for what you did- I hate you for hurting me so bad.” You hiccup. “I hate you because I still care-“

You hang your head, trying your hardest to stop this panic attack.

He holds your arms to your side and keeps you there until your sobs quiet. Until you’re doing nothing but hiccuping. Thats when he finally stands up and sets you down. Kneeling in front of you. He takes your hands in his and forces you to look him in the eyes.

“You’ll never know how much I hate myself for what I did.” He swallows hard. You can see he’s got tear stains on his face. “You’ll never see how much it hurts me. Seeing you like this. I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you so bad. And I swear to god on my life I’ll live the rest of it protecting you. You don’t have to believe me. But..” he grits his teeth. Trying to hold back his own emotions. “I care about you. And you don’t have to believe me. But I was never going to hurt you. I wanted you by my side. It’s why I kept you tied up. I want you, I’ve always wanted you to be with me. So.. forgive me, for what I’m about to do.”

You look confused, your heart has finally relaxed in your chest. “Wha-“

He stands up, pressing his lips to yours. You start to panic again, trying to push him away. But he forces himself on top of you. He forces you back onto the bed, using his weight to pin you underneath him.

He’d already taken his vest off. Leaving him in only a t-shirt and jeans. He reaches for his belt. Once you hear the rattle, your eyes widen and you try harder to push him away. “Wait- Graves wait!” You push him back. He only pins you down, pressing his lips to yours again.

He forces your pants down your legs, keeping his lips on yours.

You didn’t realize how strong he is. Because no matter what you do, you can’t get him off of you.

He grips the base of his cock, and just as he’s about to slide into you, you force your head to the side.

“Please! I’m a virgin!”

He freezes on top of you. You look up at him, and all he can see in your eyes is terror. He steps down onto the floor, quickly lifting his pants over himself. “W-what?”

You pull your legs up to yourself. Hugging them to your stomach. “I’m.. a virgin.” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He back away further.

“Fuck.. fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking- I-“ he reaches quickly to buckle his belt, going for the door.

“Wait!” You stand up.

He freezes up, his hand on the door handle. “Don’t…” you freeze up. Unsure of what you’re about to do. What you’re about to let happen.

“Don’t go.”

He turns back to you, swallowing hard.

“You said… you won’t hurt me.” You breathe. “Y/N..” he trails off. Looking down at the ground. “I want you to do it.” You look up at him. His heart thumps in his chest and he doesn’t hesitate to close the gap between you again. His lips are on yours before you have time to change your mind. He returns himself between your legs, exposing himself once more.

He presses the tip of his cock at your entrance. Looking down at you. He makes sure you’re wet enough, pressing himself inside of you. He tries to go slow but seeing you wince. He lowers himself into you. Covering your mouth and bracing himself before you have a chance to make any noise of protest. Thrusting himself inside of you. Your eyes widen and you cry into his hand but he shushes you, whispering into your ear to reassure you that it’ll only hurt for a minute.

And that fast, your virginity is gone. You’d given it to the person who hurt you the very most.

You look up at him. Eyes full of tears.

He finally moves his hand.

“Phillip.” You breathe. Hearing his full name come out of your mouth is foreign.

You wince as he slides out of you, thrusting back into you. “I trust you to take my virginity.” He clenches his eyes shut.

“But if you betray me again.” You whisper. “It will be me who kills you this time.” You look up at him.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck, picking up his pace and thrusting deeper into you. Angling just right to hit that spot inside of you that has you crumbling. “You’re not going to have to do that. I can fix this.” He breathes. “I can’t take it back but I can be better. I swear.” He mumbles. Hips rocking lazily into yours. “I’ll show you.” He grits his teeth. The weight of him above you overwhelms you. You have to remind yourself why he’s there. Not to hurt you. But to make you feel good. You hold back all of the racing thoughts by focusing on the way he feels sliding into you. You can feel him pulsing against you, throbbing against your gummy walls. You swallow him up, clamping tight around him. It’s the most intense pleasure Phillip has ever felt. Ever.

The pleasure is white hot and it settles into your lower stomach, his too. Like an oncoming tidal wave. About to wash away all of the pain and hurt.

Each thrust he takes into you, you forget a little more. How could he make you feel so good but have hurt you so bad? Your lips part as he glides into your spongy spot, a gasp leaving your lips as your thighs start to shake beneath him. He knows he’s got you cornered. He’s going in for the kill.

You shake and whine. Mewling out his name and pleas. You’re panting out how good he feels inside of you and he’s so close to falling apart, he feels like he’s going to implode. He raises himself up, taking deeper thrusts into that spot that you like. He looks down at you. Seeing your lips slightly parted. Sweat forming at your hairline. It throws him into a daze. How pretty you are and how you’re letting him fuck you, you let him take your virginity and as far as he knows, you hate him. You wanted him dead. You take in a jagged breath, eyes going from his eyes to where the both of you now connect. Watching his cock slide in and out of you. He’s big. He stretches you out. It hurt at first but you’ve gotten used to it. You’re amazed by how fast the pain had subsided.

You claw at his back through his shirt, holding onto the fabric for dear life as he tears you to shreds.

“I’m… I- oh my god.” You inhale sharply. He clamps his hand over your mouth once more. Resting his weight on you and thrusting into you lazily. “It’s alright. Give yourself to me.” He mumbles. “Go on baby. Give it to me.”

Your eyes roll back before clamping shut. His eyes widen as you clench down around him. A gasp leaving his lips as you throb. “Oh fuck- I’m gonna cum too.” He breathes. He wraps his arm around you, holding you still and tight to him. You shake from your orgasm tearing through you. Your eyes open, going wide when he lets out a moan. You say something into his hand but he’s still got it over your mouth. His thrusts come to halt as he reaches his high and you gasp as he cums inside of you. When he finally draws his hand away from your mouth, you’re too shocked to even know what to say. He presses his lips to yours and this time, you kiss him back.

He slides out of you, hearing you gasp as he does.

He moves himself to lay beside you, pulling you into him. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles. “I shouldn’t have pushed you like this.” He breathes.

You choose to say nothing. Not at first. You let what just happened sink in. Your chest feeling heavy once more.

You’re an idiot for trusting him with your virginity.

“Hey. Look at me.”

He cups your cheek, forcing you to look at him. “Stop overthinking. Just relax. No thoughts, it’s just you and me.” He forces you to look at him.

You nod your head.

———

A few months go by.

The task force hates to it admit it, but Graves is an important part to the team. He’s pretty much redeemed himself, but they try to keep their guard up anyways.

Soap and Graves are walking along the side of the building when they hear shoes scuffing across the floor.

“You know we all know about you and Y/N right?” Soap brings up out of the blue. Graves feels his blood going cold. “I didn’t know that.” He sighs. “Yeah. For a couple weeks now. Gaz wanted to ring your neck.” Soap laughs. “I’m the one who stopped him.” Soap sighs. “I hope you prove us all wrong. Because if you do anything to her..” he trails off. “You already know.”

“Yes I do.”

They hear the sound again but this time they decide to check it out. Surprised when they see a new recruit crowding you.

“Something going on here?” Soap mumbles.

“No. We’re fine.”

“No! I said to leave me alone!”

Graves is quick to intervene. “Woah- you heard the girl. Back off.” He gets between the both of you. “You touch her again and I’ll cut your hands off. Understand me?” He crosses his arms over his chest. Seeing the new recruit with fear in his eyes. “Come on. Taking you to Price’s office.” Soap scoffs. Grabbing a hold of his shirt and tugging him along. “You alright? He hurt you?”

You shake your head. “I’m fine.”

“Cmon, I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Until you come back home

John Egan X Reader

Summary: The many letters Y/n sent to her boyfriend.

Warning: Historical inaccuracies/ going crazy/ obsessive behavior/ use of Y/n/ Swearing.

Word count: 800 words

8 months, 2 weeks and 4 days, that was the last time they saw each other. Before he went on this mission and got captured. Y/n was losing her mind, she needed him. Harry Crosby was trying to cheer her up, but the only thing she did was write letters for him. ‘’Are you going to send them to him?’’ he asked as he sat next to her. ‘’There’s so many, where can I start?’’ she whispers. ‘’You can’t keep sitting in those 4 walls forever. You can’t keep hoping he’s going to call’’ Harry Crosby says. She looked at him, she heard him, but she wasn’t going to listen. ‘’The wait is just cruel, I can’t keep living like this, it’s torture’’ she mumbled. ‘’Let’s send him the letters, it might cheer him up’’ he said. She nodded and started to date the letters.

‘’Mail! Cleven, Hamilton and, holy shit there’s a lot for you Egan’’ the mailmen said, handing the letters to the men. Bucky took the pile of letters and put them on the table. He looked at who sent them, it was all Y/n. He opened the first one.

Dear Bucky,

I hope you’re alive, I know you are, I feel it. I feel crazy without you, I’m up all night and every day thinking about you. I hope you can write to me, because not getting news from you is torture. I don’t understand what’s happening to me. Love, Y/n.

He didn’t believe what he was reading, he thought she wasn’t going to wrote to him. ‘’Who the hell wrote to you that much?’’ Buck chuckled. ‘’Y/n, she wrote all of them’’ he said. Bucky opened another one.

My love, I don’t want to live forever, I can’t live without you, I’m trying to hold on. I’m driving the girls crazy; I’m calling out your name all the time. Bucky, Bucky, Bucky. I’m going to keep calling your name until you come back home. Y/n.

He looked around the room, his girl was going crazy, just like him. He wished he could write to her, but the Germans wouldn’t let him.

Bucky, did I lose you? Did I lose the love of my life? I keep getting up, calling your name all the time. I just want you to come back home. I’m barely eating, I can’t sleep. I’m going crazy without you. Croz took me out in London, he took me to my favorite restaurant, he thought that was going to cheer me up. It didn’t, I was looking sad in the nicest places in the city. I need to see you. I love you, yours Y/n.

He didn’t know how much letters he read in the last hour; she wrote a lot of them. Always saying the same time. She missed him, she needed him, she didn’t want to live forever, she didn’t want to live if life wasn’t with him. He didn’t know how much tears he shed reading this. He missed her so much; it pained him so much not being able to write back to her. He wanted to send letters, so many letters. He wanted to tell her so much, how he missed her, how he wanted to kiss her, how he wanted to hug her. He opened the last letter, afraid of what he was going to read.

Dear Bucky,

I’m sorry for all these letters, it’s the only thing I’ve been doing. Croz told me to send them all. I miss you so much, as you probably noticed in the previous letters. If Buck is with you, say hi to him. I’m waiting for your return, because like I said. If life is not with you, it’s not worth living. I don’t wanna live forever, hoping for your return. But I’m going to wait for you, I’ll wait every second of every day. I love you, John Egan, don’t forget that. In the meantime, I’m just going to keep calling your name until you come back home. Yours, Y/n.

He turned the letter to see his name written all over the back of the letter, he prayed that Crosby was taking care of her. He decided to do the same thing, calling her name until he came back home. ‘’Y/n, Y/n, Y/n’’ he repeated himself. He didn’t want to disturb the guys.

‘’Bucky, Bucky, Bucky’’ ‘’Y/n, Y/n, Y/n’’ they both said, miles away from each other, but they called each other’s name, until he comes back home.

[theveryworstthing]

more goblins to make up for missing goblin week~

goblin descriptions under the cut.

first up is Easel, a goblin artist. have you ever gone into the woods and found a spooky talisman hanging from a tree? how about intricate effigies made of woodland debris that are as unsettling as they are beautiful? or maybe small clay figures tucked under tree roots that almost look alive? if so, you might have seen Easel's work. he specializes in non-intrusive environmentally friendly long term outdoor art. it's surprisingly difficult to make certain types of shrines and such without accidentally fucking with the local wildlife by stacking the wrong rocks in the wrong places and upsetting the very forest god you wish to appease, or to make something with the right spooky vibe that doesn't fall apart the second a squirrel bumps into it. that's where he comes in. He's currently commissioned by a bunch of small gods (which pisses off some of their jealous followers who consider him the the town bicycle as far as worshipers go even though he never claimed to be a monotheist) and he does quite well for himself.

next is Parisol, a sea goblin heading home from her latest tutoring job. Abyssal languages are getting really popular these days and there are few amphibious or land people who speak it fluently, so it's good money while she works on becoming a full fledged librarian. the only downside are the cults but they're more creepy dweebs than actual dangers. she hasn't met one who's gotten a hold of a real Tome yet, not that it would matter. their pronunciation is horrible.

then there’s a goblin named Moole. nothing really special about her, she’s just chillin' out with her Pets. when asked what the Pets are she replied: "Yeah, I don't know what they are. They kept showing up at midnight in the empty cages of the rescue I volunteer at sometimes and I decided to foster them to see if they were like, evil? Ended up keeping them. Total foster fail. What's that? Are they-Oh, I don't know dude, they can be mischievous i guess? They're just little guys."

and last but not least are a couple of lads born from Space Bat asking for ‘midnight snackin' feline cryptids’ and Tama asking for ‘late night trips to the nearest fast food place with a friend’. so they’re some nekomata inspired former highschool bffs reconnecting after work over food truck fare. what's better than this? just guys being dudes.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Mad Love Chapter 25

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

“Today, I’ll write down a recent story that I didn’t include in my report presented to Her Majesty.

I’ve been living in the darkness as Roger’s exclusive Fairytale Keeper since.

There’s still evil in Britain. And today—

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: Haa, haa…, this time our target’s persistent.

Alfons: Illegal drug dealers are sent to jail when caught. It’s natural that they would run like a rat chased by a cat. …Oh my? Where are Lord El and Kate?

Roger: Ah.

Alfons raised a brow at Roger as he asked the question.

Alfons: Don’t tell me you left your own lover behind. You are theeeee worst!

Roger: Says the guy who left El behind. Welp, that guy’s gonna be fine. Actually, they’ll both be fine.

Roger smiled and reloaded his rifle.

Roger: Hey, Al. Since this is the only time you’ll listen to me, I’m gonna tell you now. Your fate’s “to be forgotten by everyone after death.” But since there’s a chance I’m gonna die before you, I’m not gonna forget about you.

Alfons: …o_o

Roger: I feel like this is the only thing I can do for an old friend… Even if it won’t make you happy.

It’s not something extravagant like a will.

But it’s something he didn’t want to regret not telling him at the time.

Roger: Al, while I’m still alive, I’ll definitely find a way to remove curses from the Cursed. Just like I promised when we were kids. That way, you won’t be lonely.

Alfons: …o_o

This egoist of a man spoke as he pleased, as plainly as if there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky.

Alfons: Haaa. Are you stupid? Please don’t ever assume people’s feelings. It’s irritating. I couldn’t care less if you fulfilled your ambitions or not. Continue wandering through your living hell to fulfill your absurd ambitions.

You couldn’t escape fate.

That being the case—you’d live how you wanted until death.

Death came for both the Cursed and humans equally.

Roger: I’m gonna have to live long to wander through a living hell.

Alfons: Bad people have all the luck in life. A man like you won’t die even if you’re killed.

Roger: Pfft, without a doubt. Alright, done reloading. Kate and El are—

Kate: Roger. Alfons, are you okay?

He turned toward the voice and saw Kate making a beeline toward him like a loyal dog.

Roger: Kate, El. Are you two hurt?

Elbert: …Kate and I don’t have a single scratch on us…However…

Alfons: However?

Kate: The targets are bound in rope in the third warehouse.

Elbert: It’s thanks to Kate.

Kate: No, you’re the one that stepped on their shadows which let me do it.

Alfons: …Kate, don’t you think you’re becoming a little too strong?

Roger: Haha.

--

While in the carriage on the way back home…

Alfons: …The queen ordered for the huntsman to bring her the heart of the detestable Snow White.

Elbert: …Al?

Elbert, who was in the same carriage, slowly raised his gaze when he heard the murmur.

Alfons: But the hunter betrayed the queen by letting the girl go in the forest and instead, brought the queen a heart of an animal. After that, Snow White met a prince after her life was saved…

'Snow White'—

Elbert quietly listened to the story that was beautiful yet unsavory for the Cursed before speaking up.

Elbert: I’ve always…thought it was strange.

Alfons: What was?

Elbert: Why didn’t Snow White choose to be with the hunter who turned traitor and saved her life?

Alfons: That is because— The happiness chosen by princesses in fairytales were generally conventional and boring. However, it doesn’t seem like Kate likes those endings. ‘Have a lovely rest of your life.’

—Fairytales will continue to be spun.

No one knew what would happen next.

--

Kate: …And we were once again misinformed when we were told “a Cursed One’s been found.”

After our mission, Roger and I went to check if the information that suddenly came to us was true.

(But it was a miss…)

Between missions, the two of us had continued to conduct research on the Cursed, but it hadn’t been easy.

Roger: …You feeling heartbroken?

Roger, who had unequipped his rifle and was now dressed down, smirked.

That day, I told Roger my answer to the question he had asked me long ago.

~~ Flashback within a flashback ~~

Roger: Would it be good or evil to make curses disappear from this world? You don’t have to answer me now. When it comes to you, let me know.

~~ End flashback within a flashback ~~

Kate: I want the Cursed to be able to choose how they live, and that thought will never change. And if I want that to happen, I can’t let things like this discourage me.

Roger: …O_O

Kate: Roger?

Roger: It’s nothing. Was just thinking about how you’ve become a fine woman.

With a hand on his chin, Roger looked at me fondly with dazzling eyes.

Kate: Don’t tell me I’ve become a fine woman for something like this. I plan to grow more! So keep your eyes on me. Closely.

Roger: Don’t have to tell me twice.

(...)

Roger was suddenly so close to me that our lips were almost touching…

My heart pounded as his eyes pierced through me.

When it comes to me, Roger’s never been one to hide his desires.

(Openly showing his desire just by looking at me…)

(It’s always made my mind and body ache like crazy)

It’s as if I took a potent drug called Roger.

Roger: Kate.

The second he said my name, he bit my lip.

Kate: Ngh, nnnn…

His tongue explored my mouth, the wet noises hit my ears—

Kate: Haaa…wait…please.

Roger: Do I have to?

Kate: Y-yes! Because…I’m scared.

Roger: After we’ve done this so many times?

Kate: That’s not it…

My breathing still hadn’t gone back to normal when I glared at Roger with teary eyes.

Roger: Sorry, I cut you off. …You’re talking about something else. Tell me, I’ll listen to everything. What’re you scared of?

Roger looked at me with a smile that enveloped all my weaknesses.

Kate: I chose to throw everything away and live with you. My hands were empty that day, like a newborn baby’s. But…suddenly, my hands were filled with you.

I closed my open palms.

Kate: I chose you so that I could be me. I don’t regret that at all. Despite that, sometimes I get scared…that I can’t live without you.

(...I never thought I’d be so deep in love)

Roger: And what’s wrong with that?

Kate: Because…

Nothing’s more important to me than you.

I would never find happiness like this again.

The surface of my ordinary life was so out of reach, and the moment I felt happiness, I’d sink further down into the bottomless lake.

Roger: Hey, that’s just called being in love. I think it’s too cute how you love me so much it scares you.

Kate: Maybe it is being in love, but I’m seriously worried about it, you know?

I glared at him but his shoulders just shook with laughter…

Roger: I already told you that I’m not letting you go. No matter what happens. Besides, I’m like you.

Kate: Eh?

Roger: “What you call romantic love’s just a dysfunction of the brain or a misunderstanding caused by sexual desire.” I had that theory set in stone. But then, Kate. You overturned it. You—changed me.

Kate: …I…changed you?

Roger: Who else? The other day, Victor told me “You’ve fallen for your fated love.”

Do you think it’s fate?

How lovely.

What was your response? +4 +4

Kate: …So, what was your response to that?

Roger: I think I said something along the lines of romantic expressions aren’t for me.

Kate: Hehe, I agree.

We looked at each other and laughed. Roger’s brows then furrowed in self-deprecation.

Roger: I’m also scared…of someone like that taking a spot in my heart. Me of all people. Scared of being in love…it’s so not like me, it’s funny.

An outstretched hand touched my hair; the gentle affection in his touch reached my heart.

Roger: But worries like that are trivial. They’re nothing compared to the despair of not living with you. Nothing compared to the despair of not being able to love you as much as I want to.

Kate: …

Despair is always close by.

However, if we let ourselves be scared of it, something important will slip through our fingers.

(That’s why you give despair the finger and live how you want)

(I want to love you…)

It made me happy to know that Roger felt the same as me.

Filled with more than fear of loving this person, I nuzzled Roger’s hand.

Kate: …Roger, please touch me.

Roger: Is that okay?

Kate: Don’t need to be scared of anything, give me all your love.

Taking a sweet smile as a cue, our lips locked together.

Kate: Nnn…nnnn

Roger: Haaa…

Roger removed his glasses and kissed me deeper than before.

And then— 

We slowly fell back onto the bed, our hands woven together.

(I can hear Roger’s heartbeat…)

The moment the heart within that thick chest breaks, I might despair.

The despair was so deep and dark that I couldn’t even imagine it.

But—I still want and love.

Pull in that faint hope and pursue uncertain happiness.

Heart beating.

Living hopelessly.

Passionate, mad, together with our loved one in this world painted with despair.

Roger: Kate. I’ll take you, satisfy you, love you. So…love me too.

Roger smiled.

No matter when, even when in the depths of despair, you’ll smile again—

Kate: Yes, Roger. I’ll love you…with all that I have.

I will protect your smile.

~~ End flashback ~~

This was the love story between me, a Fairytale Keeper, and a double-crossing hunter who lived in darkness.

Neither of us know how our love will end.

However, we seem fine with that.

Because I don’t want—

A fairytale that promises a happy ending.”

[chigirisprincess]

. ☆ ͡ ݂ The Antler Queen’s Reverie

Feat. Natalie Scatorccio

⊹ Details. 18+ only minors dni, dni if you’re not sapphic, afab reader, canon divergence, set in the wilderness at s2 finale, cheating (emotional and physical in nat and travis' relationship), discussions of cannibalism, allusion’s to cannibalism, mentions of canon character death, allusions to compulsory heterosexuality, blood consumption, biting (til it bleeds), reader is described as being able to have viable bruises, reader is described as having fingers carded in their hair, making out, scissoring, love as consumption. ⊹ Runtime. 4.5k ⊹ Note. Natalie is canonically eighteen by the season two ending and her actress is nearly twenty-three, peace and love she is above age, don’t like don’t read! If you do read I hope you enjoy <3

Travis sleeps in front of the dying hearth, warmed by the still hot embers and the feeling of a full belly. It’s pleasantly lavish, even when his back will inevitably grow frigid with goosebumps beneath the thick plaid blanket that covers him because he is assuaged. It’ll last him the next few days, perhaps even a week if he’s lucky, before they’ll have to tap into their reserves and Travis will be reminded of why his plate is filled with more than belt-soaked soup. For now, he rests easily, for the first time in the ten months they’ve been trapped. Sleep comes to him before his head even reaches the lumpy pillow that used to be Laura Lee’s– it no longer smells of the vanilla perfume she wore until the day she died, only Lottie missed the scent or even noticed.

Natalie sleeps comfortably in Dead Cabin Guy's bed, nestled behind a shoddily built pine wood door. Coach Scott has disappeared but no one voiced concern if they had any left for the man. Nat takes the opportunity to relish the modicum of privacy the room provides. If Shauna could hole herself up in the attic the moment Lottie was well enough to lay with her acolytes, then Natalie could give her body the much-needed reprieve and sleep somewhere either than the uneven floorboards of the cabin.

It’s quiet, too quiet without Van’s snoring, the crackling fire, and the sounds of creaking wood as Mari tosses and turns to get comfortable. The Wilderness was already suffocatingly silent, in the warm months it wasn’t so bad. The woods were alive, the June bugs buzzed and the trees swayed in the breeze. It was easy then to pretend the sounds of wildlife were no different from the constant thrum of the trailer park she lived in a lifetime ago. She’d learn that in the winter months, the mountains of snow that blanketed the greenery shut everything else out. They could yell but their voices would bounce back at them and be swallowed up just as quickly as it was uttered. 

Natalie found herself staring up at the thick wooden slats that made up the roof, eyes heavy and wet with unshed tears. There was nothing to distract her idle mind as it replayed the events of the day. They looped in her mind like a broken VHS tape. Jackie’s necklace burned against the column of her throat but she couldn’t bring herself to take it off, it wouldn’t make her forget the feeling of a dull blade pressed against her skin by shaky hands or the way bitter wind whipped across her cheeks as she ran. 

The worst part, the thing that kept her mind racing and her body unable to settle into a restful sleep was her lack of regret. Guilt didn’t eat away at her stomach the way it was supposed to. When she thought of the fear that filled Coach Ben’s eyes and how his expression crumbled when she confessed her sins to him, Natalie felt nothing. She should have felt sick, she should have been consumed with such grief that it killed her but Natalie felt nothing of the sort. The tears that sat idle in her eyes weren’t for Javi but they should have been. They were for her. 

Her head snapped towards the door, the sound of the floorboards groaning under the weight of someone made her heart race more than it should. In the dim light that bled through the thin space between the door and the floor, Natalie could see a pair of feet. They hovered nervously, shuffling around without any real intention of coming in.

Natalie learned at a young age to tiptoe and glide around without making a sound. It was better to make herself invisible than to risk the wrath of her father who more often than not was in some drunken stupor. Whoever is behind the door doesn’t scuttle away as she approaches until Natalie tears the door open and a shrill gasp fills the otherwise silent cabin. 

It’s you.

Your lips settle into an apologetic smile, backlit by the warm glow of the dwindling fire you look angelic. The comforting blend of oranges and yellow that danced across your skin could have made Natalie forget how terrified she was when you looked at her like a starved lion gazes upon a gazelle.

Ten months ago you and Natalie were best friends. In definition and in the eyes of the team. Natalie never had a best friend, Kevyn was the closest she’d ever come but it was different than when she was with you. Now, Natalie wasn’t sure. 

That was in the before. 

Before the crash, before they feasted upon human flesh, before they had become grievous creatures who ceaselessly craved.

Natalie whispers your name, her neck craning to peer over your shoulder. The group rests well. Their chests rise and fall evenly from beneath their fur pelts and moth-bitten blankets. Lottie manages a peaceful expression despite the bruises and scabs that still mar her skin.

“Is something wrong?” Natalie asks, her frostbitten hands wringing together nervously.

You avoid her inquisitive eyes, your chin bashfully pressing against your chest, “Can I come in?” You question, the tip of your worn sneakers dig into the floor as you nervously twist your foot back and forth.

She wordlessly steps back, her arm extending outward to usher you forward. The muscles in her legs ache the longer she stands and her chest still hurts but it doesn’t take all of her energy to move like it did the day before. You follow her timidly, the door clicking shut behind you.

The sparse amount of moonlight let in by the tiny window obscures your face from Natalie but she can see you holding something out to her.

“I thought you might be cold,” you whisper, it’s a blanket, the one you had brought with you from home, “Since the door was closed and there’s no fire pit in here.”

Your sincerity was startling. Natalie’s chest clenched and another round of tears threatened to spill past her eyes. She was never one to cry and never this often but she hated how small she felt. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.”

Daring to step closer, you press your blanket against Natalie’s chest, silently willing her to take it from you. She stands numb before you, her hands hung limply by her sides, “Won’t you be cold?” Her voice comes out louder than she intends for it to and she cringes at the sound.

You wordlessly shrug your shoulders. The clothing you packed wasn’t made for the Canadian winter but for the Seattle spring. The thin leggings you wore beneath your soccer shorts weren’t enough to stave off the chill, neither were the leg warmers you made out of Jackie’s shirt. You’d get sick if you went to sleep with nothing but the others body heat and hearth to keep you warm.

“I’ll be fine, I have others,” you say as you go to grab one of her hands.

Your touch burns but it’s not unpleasant. It’s the sort of simmering heat she wishes she felt when Travis took her hand in his earlier than night but, Natalie would chalk it up to being too buzzed on adrenaline to feel anything other than her heart rattling her rib cage. She expects you to shove the blanket into her outstretched fingers and scurry back to bed. You don’t leave, instead, you thread your fingers into hers. The gesture is tender, ten months ago she might have scoffed and asked if you were starting to get soft on her. Now Natalie just stared haplessly at you, torn between running away and tugging you closer. 

It’d be nice to be held, sleep wasn’t coming to her. None of this felt real, her new position or their fealty towards her. Would she not be cast aside just as Lottie had should one of the others rise up as she had? When rations ran out like they always did they’d hunt again, she could just as easily become the prey once more. Her heart raced erratically at the thought but she couldn’t seek the comfort she craved from Travis, not when it was her fault that Javi was flayed to be feasted upon.

“Nat?”

Natalie blinks blankly, her focus snapping back to you, “Sorry,” she quickly muttered, grabbing the spare blanket from your hands, “Uhm, thanks for this.”

“Are you okay, Nat?”

It is a stupid question and you know it. You were not so far removed from societal convention to be deluded that placing a crown atop Natalie’s head soothed the pain that made a home in the soft spaces between her bones. No one had asked her how she felt, if she was unharmed, they were too ravenous to think of anything other than the desperate gnawing that twisted their stomachs inside out. She couldn’t blame them, the prospect of flesh ground beneath her molars had Natalie salivating.

Shrugging her shoulders, Natalie turned to her bed. It was rather small and lumpy, one of the springs poked through the surface of the mattress but it was big enough that the two of you could lay down together comfortably.

“I’m fine,” she croaks, brushing a few strands of her brittle hair away from her face, “But, do you think you could lay down with me? It’s too quiet in here, I can’t sleep.”

This was not a moment of weakness, Natalie never needed anyone before and she never would. It was simply a test, one to see just how devout Lottie’s acolytes would be to their new queen. That was how Natalie rationalized the unwanted tug of loneliness that pulled her toward you.

You appeared surprised, but you quickly masked your shock with a quick nod of your head, “Of course I can,” you smiled warmly at her like this was some sort of sleepover and not a death sentence, “Honestly I never understood how Tai and Shauna could sleep in the attic, being alone like that is … unnerving.”

Swinging her arm toward the bed, Natalie wordlessly gestures for you to slide between the sheets before she can change her mind and cast you from her space. You lay on your side with your back pressed against the wall. It’s an oddly familiar scene one that made her belly churn. If Natalie closed her eyes she could pretend that the two of you were sharing a bed at an overnight game like you had a dozen times before. 

Your arm loops loosely over her stomach when she sinks into the mattress beside you, the willowy curve of her hips fits snuggly into your pelvis. She can feel your chest softly rise and fall and soon her own falls in time with it. The intimacy of it all makes her skin itch 

“Travis doesn’t deserve you,” the words are whispered just as Natalie’s eyes had grown heavy with sleep, the syllables are formed against the curve of her ear. “He never has.”

Your confession is filled with irony and is beyond laughable. He had been the one to blindside the group in the hopes of giving Natalie a chance to survive while you had held the knife. First to Travis’ throat and then to hers as you joined the others in the hunt across the glacial hellscape that was the Wilderness. If there was undeserving of having her in their presence, it was you, so deceiving in your docile demeanour and soft-spoken words, ever so eager to appease whomever was in charge to cover your hide in times of stress with false loyalties.

Natalie remains silent, pretending to be lost in the throes of slumber as you continue on, “If was unfair of him to grow so angry with you for trying to spear his feelings after Javi disappeared,” you grumbled, “There is no way he should have survived for so long out there in the cold, all on his own.”

Bile lined the length of her throat, her stomach churning. 

“You were only trying to help and what does he do? Turn to Lottie … I even heard him saying her name in his sleep.”

A spattering of goosebumps rises on Natalie’s skin when you nuzzle the frigid tip of your nose into her neck, your arms tightening around her middle.

Misplaced blame continued to fracture and splinter any semblance of trust that bound the group to one another. Natalie should not have felt the hot, shameful burn of envy ripple through her at her words, Travis was grieving as he continued to lose piece after piece of his soul but she did. Jealously stewed in her gut and bled out her pores.

She and Travis were tied together by the shared pain of lousy fathers. useless mothers, and circumstance. What was stopping him from moving on to Lottie, she played no part in his brother's death. He’d done it once before at doomcoming with Jackie when sex with bullies over a lifetime ago was the biggest betrayal he’d ever experienced.

“You might be right,” Natalie said with a morose laugh, “But, there aren’t many options in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

 It felt good to speak of him as if he were only a warm body that kept her well satisfied in the dark of night, a quick dig to hit him where it hurt while he was sound asleep in the other room, defenceless. Turning to lay on the flat of her back, Natalie squinted to read the pensive expression you wore.

“There are far more than you think.”

“Who, you?” She joked, nervously swallowing.

You looked as serious as you did when you were studying for the SATs, biting the team's head off every time they tried to get you to take a break. Granted, Taissa was annoyed you were distracted during games and Jackie was trying to keep the peace but still, Natalie had never seen you more serious until now.

Natalie forced out a laugh as if that would diffuse the growing tension that turned the air sticky. Your gaze remained trained on her visage, your lips pressed into a thin line, “Why not,” you whisper, your tongue darting out to wet your lips, “I could treat you better than Travis could.”

Her mouth grows dry, and too many buried feelings threaten to unearth themselves at the prospect of entertaining what you are suggesting. Back home, there were rumours like in any high school that surrounded the girl's soccer team. It’s why Jackie kept getting back together with Jeff even after she swore she was finished with him. Natalie tried to suppress it, she didn’t need to give the Wiskayok high any further ammunition to torment her with but it lingered there like a dark-figured to taunt her during sleepovers with the team or when they got drunk and decided to play kissing games because it meant nothing.

Natalie never partook. She flipped them off and staggered off for a smoke in the hopes of quelling the strange feeling that compressed her chest. You always looked a bit disappointed when she refused to have “fun” with the group.

“Yeah, right,” Natalie said, her voice strained, “Your longest relationship was back in middle school and you guys lasted a week.”

“You’re being mean,” you whisper with a pout.

Natalie always knew where to hit you where it hurt most.

“And you’re being stupid.”

She tried not to look at your lips, they were inviting. Though you hadn’t said anything else, she could feel some telepathic pull toward you. She could do it, kiss you that is. They were going to die out there, any lingering tendrils of hope had long since been extinguished. There was no reason why Natalie couldn’t kiss you just this once to satiate her curiosity before you both eventually met your demise.

However, it would not have been as lovely as it would have been if Natalie let you kiss her last winter at Lottie’s eighteenth birthday party. You had been hanging off her side most of the evening after pounding back one too many shots with the birthday girl. Natalie didn’t mind babysitting you, she hadn’t been in the mood to party that night and you could at least hold your liquor well enough that she wouldn’t have to hold your hair back with you spewed chunks all over the Matthews' pristine rose printed carpet like Akilah did at the last rager. 

You asked Natalie to kiss you on the back porch between puffs of the cigarette you bummed off her. She might have done it too had Laura Lee not ushered the two of you back inside, rattling on and on about how you were bound to get sick before the next game if you didn’t warm up. Natalie thought about that night a lot before burying it away lest she become haunted by it. You smelt of strawberries like you always did and she wondered if you’d taste like them too.

“What’s so stupid about having feelings for another person?” You asked as if you weren’t encroaching into dangerous territory, like Travis was nothing but a distant memory, “Or wanting to act on them so we can die with no regrets.”

There was something refreshing in knowing Natalie wasn’t alone in her line of thinking but that must have been why the two of you bonded all the way back in freshmen year.

“We’re gonna die out here and I’ve made my peace with that but I don’t want to die a virgin like some loser when I know you don’t love Travis.”

The conviction in your voice makes Natalie shrink beneath the blankets. Maybe she didn’t love Travis and maybe she had never known what love truly felt like but that didn’t mean anything. High school sweethearts were destined to crash and burn like their plane had. Natalie could only imagine what would transpire between her and Travis the longer they wrapped their veins together– nothing good, nothing good ever blossomed where Natalie was concerned.

Placing your hand on Natalie’s cheek, you turned her face toward yours, “So don’t settle because you’re afraid,” you whispered as you leaned closer, “There’s nothing out here to stop us from indulging in everything we couldn’t have out there.”

The Wilderness chose Natalie, it chose her as the next leader and now it presented you, ripe on a silver platter with skin so juicy you’d burst if she took a bite. It’d but rude to deny it now, wouldn’t it?

Your touch was gentle and surprisingly warm. It felt far better than anything she had previously experienced. Natalie felt herself being drawn closer to you, her lips just barely grazing against yours. Her breath fans across your mouth for a short second before she captures your lips in a kiss. It wasn’t anything spectacular or radically different from all the other times she had kissed someone but Natalie didn’t feel this odd twinge of shame after it was over like she usually did.

Her hazel eyes studied you for a moment afterward, trailing over the rounded curve your mouth sat in and the crinkle that grew between your furrowed brows. She wondered if it was disappointing, the kiss you’d spent a year waiting for. But, she wasn’t able to ruminate for too long before you were rolling on top of Natalie and cupping her face between your frost-bitten hands. The chapped, crackled skin of her lips splintered open when you nipped at her bottom lip. The heady, metallic taste of blood dabbled upon your tongue stirred a pleasured moan that travelled up your throat to spill against Natalie’s mouth. Natalie burned with mortification as she swallowed up the wanton sounds that leaked from your lips. When you licked your tongue into her mouth, she could taste it too and she liked it. 

It satiated the relentless hunger that gnawed at her insides most days. Regrettably, she still felt it even after their feast hours earlier but the longer you pushed the taste of her ichor around with fevered kisses the less starved she was. Natalie knotted her hands into your hair, further tangling the dulled and dried strands as she fervently chased that pleasantly full feeling she’d never felt before. Her thighs slipped open to allow your hips to slot between them.

“I’m so fucking hungry,” you rasped into her mouth, your nose pressing against her jugular, “You’ll let me eat you, won’t you?”

The innuendo isn’t lost on Natalie and tomorrow she might have laughed, once the head-splitting need for flesh subsided. Your canines sunk into the thin skin of her throat, a dangerous gesture that sent a rush of adrenaline through her. Natalie let out a raspy moan, roughly tugging on your hair as you laved your tongue over the hot, pulsing teeth mark you left. 

Shaking her head at your suggestion, Natalie muttered a quick, “No.”

Your disappointed whine was stifled by her bringing your mouth up to hers. There was something else that rattled around Natalie’s mind, the image had been seared into her head for months before she was able to banish it from the forefront. She’d seen it once whilst coming down from her high with Kevyn. One of his friends queued up some cheesy porno from the ‘80s that was just so outrageous he had to show everyone so they could all point and laugh. Natalie didn’t, she left after twenty minutes when her limbs had begun to work once more, the image of two women’s limbs tangled together replaying over and over again as she walked all the way across town to the trailer park where she lived.

Neither of you should have been stripping down but Natalie tugs off your pants to placate your impatience, intent on replicating that scene. The frigid winter air that seeps into the cabin nips at your bare skin and you shiver in her embrace. Natalie strips you until you’re left in your frayed panties and thin, long-sleeved sleep shirt. You tear her clothing off in return, carelessly throwing them aside as if body heat was enough to fend off the eternal frost the forest had been plunged into.

“Take them off,” Natalie gruffly instructs, nodding her head at you,  “And  then come here, I wanna try something.”

You take her instructions well and she bitterly wishes it hadn’t taken you so long to trust her instead of drinking Lottie’s Kool-aid. The mattress dips under your weight as you kneel, the palm of your hand laying flat against your navel, just itching to inch lower. Natalie’s eyes travel past your belly button to the thatch of curls that sits just below your pelvis. Biting her lip, she swallows thickly. 

Her stomach roars with hunger. 

Slowly dragging her underwear down her legs, Natalie rests against the headboard, her legs spread. Your eyes widen at the sight of her bare pussy, her lips slick with arousal. Looping her hands around your waist, she tugs you to straddle her lap. The position was a bit uncomfortable at first, the lingering burn and fatigue from sprinting for the first time in months making your legs heavy like lead.

A full-body shudder wracked through you as Natalie’s warm, wet cunt pressed against yours, “Like this?” You moan, experimentally rolling your hips, “This feel good?”

You asked her in earnest, peering down at her wide eyes like a puppy waiting for its owner to praise them. Mari often looked to Lottie like that, it was oddly thrilling to see it directed at her. 

“Yeah, just like that,” Natalie groaned, your name ground beneath her teeth like a slab of meat, “You could even…”

Natalie’s fingers tremble when she reaches between your bodies to spread your lips apart to expose your throbbing clit. The swampy pit of heat that swirls in her gut seeps through her body, your expression is utterly debauched and dripping with lust. She moans before you do, revelling in the obscene, squelchy sound of your cunt sliding against hers. Your pebbled nipples poke painfully through your shirt and press flush to Natalie’s as you bury your face into her shoulder. 

Cursing under your breath, you keen into her skin, “You can touch me more,” you pant between laboured breaths, it's laughable how easily years of condition eroded within a measly few months, “I need you to, Nat, please.”

She obliges you with teeth and tongue mashed along the column of your throat, sucking a matching bruise into your skin. You taste of salt and soot and something earthy like pine. The layer of grime that clings to your skin shouldn’t have been as intoxicating as it was but Natalie found herself feasting on the taste of you, raw and unmasked from soaps and perfumes, she suckles down until she feels the throbbing pulse of blood that fills your carotid artery. 

That pleasant, warm feeling Natalie could only ever achieve on her own crept up on her. Its unbidden presence filled her with disappointment, it’d all end too soon but she couldn’t stop the wave of pleasure that washed over her. The sharp edge and press of your nails into the skin of her biceps only fuel the tumbling cascade of her orgasm as you desperately rut your cunt against hers, both of your clits bumping into each other. 

Natalie’s teeth pierce the skin of your shoulder as she cums, the taste of your blood filling her senses. She grows drunk on it, mindlessly rolling her hips into your pliant body until you cry out her name, the syllables broken by yowl-like moans. Your bodies, sticky with sweat and arousal meld into one another when the familiarity of exhaustion whips through you, the kind that leaves you lying listlessly on the cabin floor for hours on end until Mari boils water and pine needles and serves it up. 

Wordlessly nuzzling your face against hers, you plant a gentle peck against Natalie's hallowed cheekbone, “Natalie I-” whatever sappy sentiment that dripped off your tongue was smothered by a more pressing question, “Do you smell smoke?”

Beneath the thick layer of sex that hung in the air was the scent of burning embers. It was far heavier than the curling puff of smoke that typically permeated the stagnant cabin air. Natalie wanted nothing more than the turn over and curl up with you, to soak in the fleeting tendrils of reverie that girls like her were never affording but something itched at the back of her mind.

It was hot, suffocatingly so even with the ever-burning hearth.

The best way to kill a yellowjacket was to scorch its home, Natalie should have known it was too good to be true. The Wilderness was revoking its blessings, smoking out the vicious wasp nest that fed on its milk and honey for far too long without thanks. 

Shauna’s panicked voice carried down from the attic and feet shuffled as they awoke from their full-bellied slumbered but neither of you moved. You lay half naked and needled with shock, peering at one another in the darkness when the reminder of your situation becomes glaringly obvious.

The cushy daydream of indulging your appetites where nothing but just that, a daydream. You had to run now because it was better to be starved and alive than nothing more ashes blowing in the wind.

© all content belongs to dearbraus. do not modify, repost, or redistribute.  

[worldofheroes]

Finally Some Privacy

tom cruise x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, language, broken bone(s), age gap relationship (28yrs), secret relationship, p in v sex, daddy kink, smut with no plot

summary: after a stunt gone wrong, filming is put on pause. you fly back to LA with tom to spend some alone time together.

wc: 1.9k

a/n: whoops kinda fell for tom. I do not support Scientology.

You hated when Tom had big stunts. The stunt you’re filming today is mild compared to some of his others, but they all carried risk of injury.

You flinched as Tom hurled himself off one building and towards the other. The whole stunt was him almost missing the jump but grabbing the edge.

When he hit, something seemed off. You felt it in your gut. It was only a second, but you knew.

When Tom stood up, he ran - or rather limped - off camera.

“Okay, cut. We’re done,” Tom says.

“Done?” the director asks.

“Yeah, I just broke my ankle,” Tom says, leaning on his knees.

“What?!”

“Can someone just take me to the hospital, please?” Tom asks, slightly annoyed.

“Alright, alright, wrap it up!” the director yells.

You watch as the on set medics go to Tom and help him to a chair.

Tom glances over to you and nods. You know that means to continue your work and the two of you will meet up later.

A few hours later, you’re wrapped and released from the set. You check your phone and you have a message from Tom.

Did a real number on my ankle. Need surgery but I’ll be fine. You can come visit, say you’re with the crew and need to check on me.

You make your way to the hospital.

“How can I help you?” a nurse asks you from the desk.

“Hi, I’m looking for Tom Cruise, I’m with the film crew, I was sent to check on him,” you say.

“Of course, right this way,” she says, walking out from behind the desk and down the hallway.

“Mr. Cruise, you have a visitor, may they come in?” the nurse asks from the doorway.

“Yes, of course,” you hear him say.

The nurse motions for you to walk in the room, and she closes the door behind her.

“Hey,” Tom says softly, with a smile.

“Hi,” you say, pulling a chair up beside the bed. “I would say you’re stupid but this was just unlucky.”

Tom chuckles. “One of the least risky stunts and I do this,” he says, motioning to his leg.

“But you’re alive.”

“Yeah.”

You take his hand and give it a kiss.

“At least we’ll have a lot of time to spend together without running behind people’s backs,” Tom smiles at you.

You press your lips together. You’ve had a secret relationship with Tom for three months now, and you’ve expressed how you don’t like it being secret but understand why it has to be.

“When I get out of here we’ll fly back to LA on the private jet. A few other crew guys will be there so it won’t be suspicious. Then it’ll be just us,” Tom continues. “It’s gonna work out.”

“I know, I know,” you say, not making eye contact.

“Sweetheart,” Tom says gently, “look at me. Please.”

You take a deep breath to find the courage to look at him. You finally look up and into his green eyes.

“I love you,” Tom says.

“Don’t say that,” you whisper.

“Y/n.”

“I… I don’t know how to feel about this. It’s nearly a 30 year difference, Tom.”

Tom nods. “I know. I’m sorry if I crossed a line.”

You press your lips together again. “Let’s just get back to LA.”

“Okay, sweetheart.”

You pause, then lean over and give Tom a kiss. Tom caresses your head and gives you a smile.

There’s a knock on the door and you scramble for your chair. Tom chuckles softly and you shoot him a look, but can’t help but smile too.

A nurse comes in. “Hi there, I’m here to go over the discharge papers.”

About an hour later, you’re helping Tom out of the hospital. Soon, you, Tom, and a few crew members are on the plane headed to New York, then LA.

You cannot wait to get off the plane when you finally land in LA. As you walk onto the tarmac, Tom approaches you.

“Y/n, I’ve arranged a car to take you home,” Tom tells you.

“Thank you,” you reply with a smile. “I appreciate it.”

“I like to take care of my crew,” Tom smiles. He opens the car door for you, and you get in.

When the door closes, the driver addresses you. “Hello Miss y/l/n. You’re headed to Mr. Cruise’s residence, is that correct?”

“Yes, thank you,” you reply.

It’s a quiet ride to Tom’s house. When you pull into the driveway, Tom is already there. He helps you out of the car.

“Hey,” he says, leaning in and kissing you.

“Tom,” you scold.

“Y/n, I trust these people with my life, they won’t say a word.”

“Okay. I trust you,” you tell him. “This place is huge.”

Tom laughs. “It gets pretty lonely.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you trying to say something?”

“Just that I can’t wait to spend some alone time with you.”

You and Tom spend most of the day watching TV, cuddling on the couch. You drift in and out of sleep throughout the day.

“Hey,” Tom whispers in your ear. “You want to move to the bed? Might be a little more comfortable.”

You yawn. “I guess, yeah.”

“If I didn’t have a broken ankle, I’d carry you there,” Tom laughs.

You laugh too. “Are you going to make it, resting for four to six weeks?”

“Probably not. I’ll probably start walking on it too soon and probably mess it up more.”

“Uh huh,” you say, moving to face him and straddling his lap. “You can’t put the movie off forever.”

“Stop being a distraction, then,” Tom says, moving his hands down your back and onto your ass.

“You’re the older one here, you should be the logical one.”

“I don’t have to be logical for the next couple months.” Tom leans in and kisses you.

You run your hands through his hair.

“You’re really pretty,” Tom mumbles on your lips.

You smile against his lips for a moment before you push the kiss deeper, and Tom responds instantly. His tongue dips into your mouth, his hands are all over your body, and you tug on his hair. A moan escapes from him, making you giggle.

“That’s not nice,” Tom mutters.

“What?” you ask innocently.

“You’re going to do that, are you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, now you’ve done it. Get to the bedroom, now.”

“I’ve never been here, I don’t know where it is,” you say against his lips as you kiss him again.

“Up,” Tom practically orders.

“Yes sir,” you say, getting off his lap.

He gently shoves you towards one of the hallways. “Walk,” he mumbles into your ear, sending a chill down your spine.

The two of you finally make it to the bedroom. Tom closes the door with a loud thud and turns his attention back on you.

“Are you really going to try to dominate me with a broken ankle?” You’re practically asking for it now. He knows it, and he’s enjoying it as much as you are.

He walks towards you. “I like this side of you,” he says. “But I’ve let you get away with too much these last few months.”

“Oh, is Daddy upset?”

“Fuck you,” Tom growls.

You bite your lip, trying not to laugh.

Tom walks you backward towards the bed, and you fall on it.

“You really shouldn’t be doing this with a broken ankle,” you tell him.

“Fuck my ankle, alright?” Tom says, pushing his crotch against you. His cock is already hard, and you gasp.

“Tom,” you mutter.

“Sex is more important than my ankle right now,” he whispers in your ear.

He pulls your shirt off, and you work on the buttons of his shirt. Tom leans down and kisses you. You finally get his shirt off, and your hands wander his torso.

Tom kisses his way down your body, and works on getting your shorts off.

“Tom,” you mutter again.

“I got you,” he whispers into your thigh, taking your shorts off in one swift movement.

His hand gently brushes over your core and your hips buck.

“Easy, baby girl,” he says.

“Don’t tease,” you reply.

“Oh you can tease but I can’t?” Tom locks eyes with you.

“Just fuck me already,” you tell him.

“I’ll fuck you when I want,” Tom growls, pulling your panties off. He drops his pants to the floor.

“Please, Daddy,” you beg.

Tom gives you a smirk as he pulls his boxers down.

“Shit,” you groan.

Tom climbs on top of you. “Is this okay?”

“What?” you ask, confused by his sudden change in demeanor.

“I want to make sure you are okay with sex,” he says gently.

You nod.

“I want a verbal confirmation, baby girl.”

“Yes.”

Tom smiles at you and leans down to give you a quick kiss. He reaches over to you and fumbles in the nightstand drawer.

You see a square wrapper, and Tom rips it open.

“Okay baby girl, time to teach you a lesson,” Tom growls as he puts the condom on.

“Tell me how bad I've been,” you encourage.

Tom places his tip at your entrance and slowly pushes into you. You gasp at his hardness entering you.

“So fucking tight,” Tom mutters, watching himself push into you. “So tight, just for me.”

You nod, unable to speak as he starts to thrust in and out.

“Are you going to be a good girl now, for Daddy?” Tom leans down and whispers in your ear, getting more aggressive with his thrusts.

“Yes!” You exclaim as his cock hits you just right.

“Yes what?”

“Yes Daddy… I’ll be a good girl,” you gasp.

“Good,” Tom says, thrusting even harder. You didn’t think that was possible.

You feel yourself reaching your orgasm. “I’m gonna come,” you tell him.

“You need to wait.”

“I don’t think I can!”

“You’ll come when Daddy comes.”

“Please Daddy,” you moan.

“Wait.”

“I can’t, Daddy, please,” you plead with Tom.

Tom grunts. “Okay baby girl, come for Daddy,” he says, voice faltering a bit.

He thrusts two more times and you come undone around his cock.

“Oh, Daddy!” you yell.

“That’s it,” he mumbles into your neck. “Fuck.” Tom finishes in the condom.

You finish your orgasm and you’re panting, trying to catch your breath.

Tom stays in you for a moment, his eyes closed and tries to catch his breath. His cock twitches in you, which makes you buck just a little.

Tom opens his eyes and chuckles. “Still feels good, huh?”

“Fuck yes,” you say, rubbing against him.

Tom smiles at you as he pulls out and discards the used condom. He lays down beside you and pulls you close.

“Damn that was good,” Tom says, kissing your hair.

“Mm hmm,” you agree with him, snuggling close to his naked body.

Tom reaches for a blanket and pulls it over the two of you.

“How’s your ankle?” you ask Tom.

“Probably royally fucked now. Recovery is likely going to take longer,” Tom says.

“Mm.”

“But that puts off the movie longer and gives us more time to fuck,” Tom whispers.

“You’ll never finish the movie.”

“As long as I can finish in you, it doesn’t matter.”

“Thomas!” you scold, laughing.

Tom laughs with you.

“I know I freaked out last time, but I love you,” you tell him, looking up at him.

Tom smiles softly. “I love you too, baby girl.” He leans down and kisses you.

The two of you spend the rest of the day in bed, in each other’s arms.