#people are pissing on the floor of the pit????

[evie-sturns]

Cry - Matt Sturniolo

summary: you and your boyfriend, matt, have spent the day together. you've been snapping at him the whole time, until it gets too much for matt and you accidentally make him cry. you find a way to make everything up to him.

contains: sub!matt, nsfw, blowjob?, matt crying, angst.

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matt and i have been dating for 7 months, sure, we’ve argued before but it’s never lasted more than a day and it’s never affected us that much. i’ve never seen matt cry, according to his brothers he hates crying infront of people, or even talking about it. 

today we’ve been bickering non stop, i’ve been making snarky comments and snapping at him for pathetic reasons, matt’s just been ignoring it.

9:24pm

i sit on the dining table, matt directly opposite me on his phone as he takes small bites of his dinner. “matt.” i say, my voice almost like a robot.

“mhm?” he hums, his eyes fixed on his screen, i groan, “for fucks sake matt.” i huff under my breath. 

“what is it?” matt asks, his finger continuing to scroll across his screen. 

i don't know why i've been so on edge today, everything matt's done has pissed me off. the way his hand is cemented onto his phone pisses me off.

“fucking stop! you don’t even care about me the only thing you do is go on your phone, your an actual excuse of a boyfriend.”

the words leave my mouth quicker than i can process, i don’t even fully comprehend what i’m saying.

i finish off my yelling fit by slamming matt’s phone out of his hands.

he stands up abruptly, his bottom lip shaking as his eyes well with tears. “don’t fucking say that.” 

i scoff, folding my arms and playing with my nails. matt lets in a sharp inhale, a shaky sob exiting his mouth.

my head snaps up to look at him, he’s got tears soaking his pink cheeks, his lips a raw red. he reaches his ringed fingers up to rub his eyes before speed walking out of the dining room, directly towards our bedroom.

my heart drops, an aching infecting my body. i feel a wave of guilt wash over me, tears somehow prickling in the corners of my eyes. i wipe my face quickly, 

i’ve just made matt cry. shit.

i stand up from my wooden chair, the chair legs screeching on the wooden floor. 

my footsteps tap on the ground as i slowly walk towards matt and i’s shared room, the door is shut. 

i stand outside for a few seconds, pressing my ear, which is decorated in sets of earrings, up to the wooden planks.

i hear sniffles coming from inside the room, and small crys. my heart pounds against my ribs as i twist the door handle.

i’m met with matt’s body which is sitting at his desk, his back facing me. i’m not sure he heard me, so i walk over to him. 

i tap his grey sweater, the cute wool sweater that he wears whenever he’s cold, the sweater his mom gave him in high school, which still fits him.

i feel him tense under me, he swings his head round to look at me, his eyelashes are dark and wet, his cheeks a deep red and his lips swollen. 

i take one look at him and my stomach forms a pit, i wrap my arms around his neck, yanking him into a deathly tight hug as i bend down to his seated height.

matt doesn’t hug me back, his arms hang loosely by his sides. i bury my head into the crook of his neck,

after a few seconds i pull away, visible nerves on my face, matt’s tilts his head down to his lap, where his hands rest, fiddling with his rings.

“matt please, look at me.” i say, my voice barely audible. his head shakes, i nod my head “okay.” i whisper.

“i’m so sorry sweetheart, i didn’t mean any of that, i promise it’s just the week before my period. you know i get in these stupid moods that i can’t handle.”  i say softly,

matt continues to stare down at his lap.

i get down on my knees my hands resting on his thighs, my nails scratching the material of his sweatpants.

im at the height where i can see his full face, his lips slightly pouted. i stare up at him, his eyes lock with mine for a split second. my hands travel to his waistband and grip the elastic, i look up at him again, asking for permission. matt's gaze drifts to my eyes again, he nods, his top teeth sinking into his lower lip.

i pull down his sweatpants to his midthighs, he's got no boxers on, already half hard.

i brush my thumb over his tip, earning a shaky groan from matt. i maintain eye contact with him, i feel him grow fully hard in my hand. i run my hand up his length a few times before taking my hands off him completley.

"please" matt clears his throat, "please what?" i tease, resting my hands on his thighs, he almost looks as though he’s going to cry again,

i can see his breathing intensify, "tell me what you want." i say calmly, matt lets out a whine, his leg bobbing up and down on the spot, "please." matt breathes out again.

i lean foward, wrapping my lips around matt's tip, a soft moan exits his mouth as he gentley tangles his fingers into my hair. i swirl my tongue around his tips before taking more of him further down my throat.

"close-" matt warns, bucking his hips up as his hands grip my hair tighter. i pull off his cock for a second to catch a needed breath,

"i need to." matt protests as his cheeks flush, small droplets of sweat gathering on his forehead, he runs his hand though my hair. i wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, "i know, i know." i say, quickly wrapping my mouth around him again as i scratch his thighs with my nails.

i bob my head up and down quicker, matts whimpers filling the room. i look up at him with doe eyes, he squeezes his eyes shut, thrusting his cock deeper into my mouth.

i can see his breathing intensifying before he releases in my mouth, i pull off of him.

matt leans back in his chair, before quickly reaching a hand down under my mouth, i spit it out into his hand "sorry.." matt laughs slightly, grabbing a bunch of tissues and cleaning his hand and my lips.

"don't say sorry matt, my fault for getting you so worked up." i say, standing up and grabbing matts arm, pulling him up onto his feet. i lead him towards the bed, he stumbles slightly as he recovers from his orgasm.

i sit down on the bed, my back resting against the headboard. matt lays down next to me, i pull his head onto my chest.

"matt, i feel really bad." i start,

"what? for what? that was the best fucking experience i've had all month, the nails did somethin-" he rambles, i cut him off.

"no! about the things i said, and.. you know.. making you cry" i say with a small laugh.

"trust me, you made up for it, can you do the same tomorrow so i can get another blow job." matt smiles, i run a hand through his hair, shaking my head with a scoff.

---------------------

[johnbrand]

Right Kind of People

Dalton and Eli ambled into the locker room, exhausted after their workout. They had been coming to the gym for a few weeks, so while they could feel they were making progress, they could not yet see it. The couple had made a pact to start exercising more seriously before their wedding, hoping to have the best bodies possible by picture time.

“Hey, has this mirror always been here?” Dalton asked, pointing to the subject in question. It was a full floor-to-ceiling mirror, nothing extraordinary about it beside its size. 

“I read something in the monthly email,” Eli replied, rubbing some water on his face before coming over. “They're trying to class up the place to ‘lure’ in the right kind of people.”

Dalton scoffed, posing obnoxiously. “I bet the people they’re 'luring' for are some more obnoxious hetero gym-bros.” At about average height and a little pudgy, Dalton’s flexing appeared silly and foreign to his body.

Eli laughed at the joke, twisting his cap around to add to his fiancé's bit. “I’d need a sweet flow to grow out underneath this hat and then we’d be set.” Eli was the shorter and skinnier of the two, but otherwise there was not that much difference between them. They looked pretty similar, and dressed alike too. Even now they wore matching baggy tanks and shorts that went just past the knees.

“Yeah, we’d need like uh…some more poses too,” Dalton attempted to add, occupied by his reflection in the mirror.

“Sure,” Eli chuckled. “That way we could flex for our narcissistic selves even longer, right?”

Eli paused for a confirmation, but received nothing. He glanced at Dalton, noticing he was still flexing.

“Dalton?”

It took Dalton a moment to break from his haze, although not entirely. He was still making eye contact with himself when he replied: “...what? Oh, sorry bro.”

“Bro?” Eli questioned, now a little confused. Scanning over his partner, he began to feel even more uneasy. Were Dalton’s arms always so…carved? They appeared huge. And those legs too, the peaks and valleys of muscles appeared to be inching up the shorts. It was almost like Dalton was growing taller before his very eyes, the bottoms now barely reaching past half the upper leg.

“You gonna stop checking me out, dude?” Dalton grumbled, his voice a little deeper.

“Huh?”

“Look at yourself, bro,” Dalton nodded his head forward, insisting for Eli to flex in the mirror as well. Having no reason not to, Eli followed Dalton’s instruction. He made eye contact with his small body, which next to Dalton appeared like a baby brother rather than a boyfriend. Speaking of Dalton, Eli could have sworn he had buzzed his hair less than a week ago. Now however it had fluffed out in the front like one of those douchey TikTokker cuts.

“Bro, stop pissing around and check your own gains,” Dalton grunted, his baritone now aggressive. Eli complied, and to his surprise, found he was looking a little more built too. His calves were looking meatier, filling out into diamonds with carpets of hair dusting them. They appeared longer too, but that may have been because he was wearing some slutty short-shorts. Nothing too faggy, but just enough to grab the right kind of attention.

Eli blinked, trying to process where that slur had come from. But for some reason, it just felt…right? Like, correct. Like how his smoking abs displayed underneath his tight pecs. Or how his structured frame stood just a little taller than Dalton, both of them over six feet. Or the curve of his bis and tris always visible, even when not flexed.

Although when they were, you could get a real good whiff of his pits. Eli snook a sniff…yeah, real manly funk with just a hint of Old Spice. Once he pulled his nose away from his pit, he was able to check out his sick flow and how it perfectly curled out beneath his backwards cap.

“Yeah bro, this pump was insane!” Dalton guffawed. “The chicks are gonna love us.”

Eli’s head was momentarily pulled away from self-adoration. Why was Dalton thinking about hooking up with girls? Weren’t they…bros…? Yeah, they were best bros. And the thought of sucking on a girl's juicy tits right now made his big ole dick hard. Eli smirked to himself, growing hard while continuing to flex in the mirror. He could go for some pussy right now. Pussy was just meant for his cock…

After a notable amount of time still displaying themselves for themselves, the newly-minted straight douchebags left the gym. They had hookups ready before they even made it back to their cars.

Although it was a mirror, Dalton and Eli would have never known it was only one-way. Behind the glass was a massive television displaying hypnotic tracks and visuals 24/7. One only needed to gaze in the mirror for a few moments before becoming captured. And unfortunately for the former gay couple, Dalton had got it right; the gym was trying to lure in their perfect market: obnoxious hetero gym-bros.

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: Your Soul's Signature Scent

✧ “Odors have a power of persuasion stronger than that of words, appearances, emotions, or will. The persuasive power of an odor cannot be fended off, it enters into us like breath into our lungs, it fills us up, imbues us totally. There is no remedy for it.” - Patrick Süskind

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, change any pronouns to apply to you. Also, I'm a rambler and I love going off track. One pile got a mini wattpad story. CHEERS!

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✴︎ Pile One ✴︎ (King of Pentacles, 3oP, Knight of Swords, 9oS, 1, Ascension, Worthy,)

Not to be weird but I’d sniff you like rich frat boy coke.

It's hard to describe scents so… walk with me.

You have had a long, stressful day and the world is pissing you off. You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place so after work, you open Google Maps in hopes of temporary solace with cheap liquor and bar food. You find one of those dingy sports bars with shitty beer, sticky tables, and drunk grown men yelling at a tiny wall-mounted television.

Not exactly your cup of tea, but as the French say… C’est la vie!

You practically had to beat half of the bar off with a stick, just to find a seat. Drunk old guys + A Pretty Pile One = Sloppy, slurred marriage proposals(?) You couldn’t tell, but “I wanna bring you home to my mama” sounds close enough.

You pay them no mind. You have one goal. Get fucked up. Don’t throw up.

Okay, maybe two goals.

You finally find a stool and raise a finger to signal the bartender.  

“Hey, bartender! BAR-”

“I see you. Don’t call to me.” 

A nervous drop in your stomach almost tips you off your stool. You feel them before you see them. Every bottle clink they make reverberates to that pit in your stomach. You only hear the bartender’s movements among a crowd of bustling people: their shoes stick and unstick to the floor, their fake chuckles at guests’ jokes, every time their hand slides across the bar to collect bills.

Maybe it’s delusion but you’re convinced you hear the steady drum of their heartbeat. 

You finally get a good look at the bartender. In a sea of hostile people drowning themselves to forget their sorrows, you see the calmest, most fearless person in the room. Squared shoulders, back straight, head held high, and the smoothest walk you’ve ever seen; they almost glide.

You watch in complete admiration as they de-escalate a fight, sanitize bar taps, count money, and make a drink all in one go. You haven’t spoken more than two full words to this person but something about their presence makes you want to kneel.

The bartender finally makes their way to you and their eyes lock with yours. Your neck begins to sweat so you quickly dart your head away. A deep, velvety chuckle comes from the pits of their stomach, “Don’t show me you're nervous, I usually charge the Bambis more.”

“Bambis?”

“You’re shivering like a scared little deer, aren't you?”

You have no words so you focus on twisting your hands under the tables. 

They find you cute. With another chuckle they lean in closer to you, “I’ll tell you what, how about I make you a drink to calm you a little, yeah?”

“Uhm, I’ll take a-” Before you could even tell them what you want, their back is to you making a concoction.

Forty-five seconds later, a glass of honey bourbon with an orange slice and a vanilla bean stick slides in your direction. Along with a… cigar?

“I doubt you can handle this, but I want to see you sweat.”

Hands shaky, you press the glass to your lips as the bartender guides you, “Take it slow. Let it sit. Savor it.”

You came in here looking for cheap booze and a deep sense of impending regret, but here you are drinking $400 bourbon you can’t afford and hanging off of every syllable this person says to you.

After a slow sip and a burn behind the ears, you ask, “How do you do that?”

They raise their brow.

“Ya know… command like that.”

They whip a towel over their shoulder, “Once you realize how scared and hurt everyone actually is, worthiness feels less unattainable.”

BAHAHAHA THAT ENDING WAS SO CORNY (and kinda ominous??) BUT THIS IS GETTING LONG AND THIS AINT WATTPAD.

In summary, your soul has a very effortlessly commanding signature. Even if you aren’t aware, your energy dominates every space it enters. You might have people who seem to dislike you for no reason, this is why. BUT YES, a sweet bourbon with a hint of citrus and something smoked on the side is 100% your signature. Also… Petrichor. Your soul scent is the sweetened waft of smoked wood beneath grit and the smell of wet Earth after a storm. 

"Can You Taste The Spice On My Lips?"

✴︎ Pile Two ✴︎ (9oP, 10oP, King of Wands, Lust)

✴︎ BAEEEE, don’t fucking play with me. Your soul just told me to take my shoes off in your million-dollar mansion. You told me to stop acting like a fucking hooligan???

There is a richness to you down to your very core. I’m getting Pushya, the most auspicious nakshatra representing wealth, prosperity, and milk (divine nourishment). But there is also a spiciness here.

SPICED CHAI MILK TEA. That is the scent that jumps out to me. The hominess of full-bodied, sweet cinnamon. The spicy warmth of red chai. Maybe even a little nutty, Spanish almond if you’re feeling crazy.

There is also a gradual build-up here. All earth signs, but primarily Taurus. There is this steady, sensual accumulation of your energy. You cannot be rushed, you savor moments and allow yourself to rest in all the sensations you experience in the present. If you don’t do this, your soul is calling you to do this. Slow down. Chew slower, shower longer, and take time out of your morning to listen to the birds sing. 

The leisurely flow of the universe is inviting you to join its dance. You are safe. You are provided for. The universe is your sugar daddy. Your guides want you to know that what you want, wants you; you just need to slow down.

I sense that your energy is aphrodisiacal. Your sacral chakra is one of your dominant chakras (could be healthy or a leak but it is prominent) and when people enter your presence their chakra gets activated too. People get creative and fiery near you. If their sacral chakra is blocked, this may be repressed and they can hold resentment for the free-flowing energy you have which they feel they lack. 

Abundance. Abundance. Abundance. Abundance. That word is used a lot in this community and you may be tired of hearing it but that's too damn bad! You’re very fucking abundant.

If this puzzles you because you look around and don't see whatever you picture as abundance, it's because it's sitting within you waiting for you to actualize it. You have the skills, the intellect, and everything else under the sun needed to grab your dreams by the balls. I cannot stress this enough.

Go outside, journal, continue your affirmations, and remove yourself from anything lying to you and saying you cannot do this. It is a fucking lie. You have everything it takes to do what the world says is impossible. Shut the world’s opinion out and turn inwardly for your answers, because you have them.  

Ambrosia. Liquid gold. It flows through you. You are the gift. The universe’s greatest gift to you is you. You have the ability to spin anything into gold. 

I have some doomscrollers, spirallers, and people-pleasers in this pile. You may struggle with excess anxiety, digestive issues, acid reflux, and ulcers. Outside influences have tricked you into believing you are a pebble when you’re actually a diamond. 

Baby, you have to cut them off. By “them” I mean all negative energies that cause your mind to get stuck in a loop of self-hate. That includes social media, bad habits, fake relationships. Your solitude will heal you. Your peace of mind will heal you. Once you shut up the naysayers, you’ll finally hear the music that has been drowned out in your body and soul.

I know this is a lot but it is worth the effort. Your potential is worth the effort. A healthy state of mind is worth the effort. You are worth the effort. 

Sidenote: The star and temperance came out while I was cleaning up. BABY YOU A STAR IN THE MF MAKING!

"The great merit of gold is precisely that it is scarce”

✴︎ Pile Three ✴︎ (The World, 6oW, 2oW)

🎵Nowadays, I be duckin' them cameras

And they hype that I'm up on them banners

Callin' my phone, but they know I don't answer (why?)

In the hood, I'm like Princess Diana (grrah) 🎵

✴︎ THE PEOPLE 'S PRINCESS (or prince… orrrr the #1 baddest barnacle in the seven seas, whatever fits).

3, “The creative child” and 6, “The Caretaker” came out. 3 is the number of self-expression and creativity. 6 is the most harmonious number centered around nurturing your community. In the world, you’re the center of attention. In the 6 of Wands, you’re the one decked out in Dolce and Gabanna, playing Robin Hood and giving to the people. In the 2 of wands, you quite literally have the world in your palm.

Your soul’s footprint is destined to be seen and recognized. Baby, you are meant to be loved by the world at large. 

Maybe you have aspirations of becoming an artist, actress, or influencer. If you have dreams of being in the public eye, I am telling you your desires are not coincidental. You are meant for these dreams so do not be afraid to actualize them. The stars are expecting you, your home is in the spotlight.

Everyone incarnates on Earth with a role and purpose, you are meant to have a large platform because what you have to say matters and will elevate our collective consciousness. You have the gift of being able to garner great attention. People like to see you, talk to you, see what you’re wearing, know about your life, and everything else in between. People are like moths to a flame with you, you’re an entertainer to your very core.

You have a youthful, creative, and colorful soul. 

I am getting strong floral scents mixed with a crisp, clean linen smell. Gardenia, Ylnag Ylnag, Cherry Blossom, and Honey Suckle. I just know the bees be tearing your nectary ass up.

You know how Ariana Grande’s perfume line is always sold out? It’s kind of like that. “Oh, Pile Three is wearing this perfume? PUT IT IN THE CART. NEOW.”

Strong Venusian energy. Libra, Taurus, Pisces, 2nd house (especially for my singers), 7th house, Bharani, Purva Phalguni and Purvashada.

People find you very attractive. Yes, physically so, but the true embodiment of beauty stems from the soul. And you are utterly gorgeous. I am getting snow white; the animals flock to her, the sky clears for her, the seas part for her, and the forest protects her.

I am not trying to be redundant but this Earth does not play about you😭. That doesn’t mean you haven’t experienced hardship but trust, you will get the love you crave, tenfold. 

I get the sense that love has felt very conditional in your life and once the metaphorical “love pie” was cut and served, you were served last and there was never enough for you.

I am going to hold your hand as I say this,

Feel this pain. Process this pain fully. Cry all your tears, scream your sorrows out in the open, and let the winds carry it away. Let these feelings of being unloved leave your body because there is no space for them anymore. Eternal love is flowing in to fill those empty cavities. You are so loved. I am so sorry the environment around you has blocked this energy but please know that justice will be served and the love you are karmically owed is growing within you and you will be seen in this lifetime.

COME BACK TO THIS WHEN YOU’RE FAMOUS AND DON’T FORGET ME.

You better not go Hollywood on me 🫵

The Cosmos' Countess

✴︎ Pile Four ✴︎ (The Hanged Man, Knight of Wands, 5 of Swords)

✴︎ Random, but have you heard stories of those cool warrior monks? Who devotes themselves to their practice but when it’s time for battle they whoop ass?? That’s so you, boo.

You’re all peace, love, and light but you don’t fucking play about protecting your peace of mind. I sense that you live an alternative lifestyle. With the hanged man, you see life differently from the average person, and don’t waste your time with the world’s bullshit. 

You’re not on Twitter arguing about Drake’s tummy tuck (BAHAHA I HAD TO), you know shit like this doesn’t add to your life in any way. You focus your energy on activities and discussions that add to your self-evolution. You have made lots of sacrifices in life to progress forward and the universe sees your hard work and is proud of you. Hell, even I’m proud of you. 

You and the Universe like this 🤞. Here’s an affirmation that already rings true but is good to practice anyway, “I surrender to the natural flow of all existence.”

A lot of you study esoteric divinity practices. Tarot, scrying, rune-casting, psychometry, etc. We also have some healers. This may ruffle some feathers. Maybe your family or friend circle doesn’t understand your interests and may push against it but quite frankly… you don’t give a fuck. 

As you shouldn’t.

Your self-resolutions are impressive. You may feel nervous at times but your faith in yourself makes you fearless. You’ve done your studying. You’ve done your healing. You're ready to take the world by storm, and nothing is knocking you off your horse. You are the first to ride into battle and will be the last standing. I don’t know if you’re aware but you thrive in conflict, your soul spirit is akin to Martian energy and loves a good fight, to be honest. 

Your power is in your belief that everything will work out in your favor. “I have the power of God and anime on my side.” 

If you’re not quite at this level yet and you don’t see yourself as this peaceful warrior, you got the “soothe”, “present”, and “friendship” cards. It’s your nerves, baby. It has nothing to do with you as a person. You are smart enough. You are capable. You have everything you need to ride into this new life. 

The entire collective is being asked to slow down. The hustle in society right now does not allow our nervous systems to regulate themselves so everyone is miserable and drained. Remove yourself from this hustle and ground yourself in the present. You have to soothe yourself and lower your cortisol levels. Baby yourself, you deserve it.

Look up techniques to regulate your parasympathetic nervous on YouTube.

Anyway, your soul caught me off guard, you're that sexy mf fr. Ummm back to scent..

YES, okay so please don’t take this the wrong way because I am obsessed with what I'm getting. Hear me out, I used to take kickboxing classes for a few years and that particular gym’s scent was my favorite fucking scent. 

It sounds weird but it smelled like pent-up stress relief: sweat, blood, and Clorox. 

Of course, I’m not saying you smell like this, but this is how I perceive the scent your soul carries.

Your soul’s scent is victory. Particularly, through a bloody means. Your soul understands the purification in blood. Extremely Martian. You’re chill but you’re really fucking intense dude. I like you.

Oooo and also, hang out with friends!! Genuine contact can help relax your body.

Mmmkaye bye!

The Blood You Spill Is The Blood of Kings

[simpforboys]

always been you

ghostface!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: being a famous news reporter, your coverage quickly began to focus directly on the Ghostface killings. little did you know the masked killer was closer to you than you thought.

warnings: dark/canon!rafe, dark!reader, sociopathic tendencies, rough smut, choking, dirty talk, creampie, sexual sadism (both parties consent), knife kink, mask kink, swearing, mentions of stalking, toxic (?) relationship, blood, murder, drug use, smoking cigs

not proof read, please don’t read if cannot handle the warnings. this is something not usually like my writing and i wanted to test it out, so let me know what you guys think !

happy october my loves :3

the blood that splattered against Rafe’s mask was euphoric to him, the stress and anger taken from his body.

the light that left his victim’s eyes as they slipped into their everlasting slumber sent shivers down his cold spine as he dropped the body on the tiled floor.

“you’ll never be around my girl ever again.”

Michael, a 22 year old frat boy who suddenly became obsessed with you during a party, was one that frightened you more than your boyfriend.

Michael was stalker-ish, following you to every class in hopes to get a glance of you between hours. he would show up to every single place you were, and after expressing to Rafe how eery he made you, Rafe just told you, “i’ll take care of it.”

you didn’t exactly know what he meant by that, not that you really cared.

it was a common occurrence. a person would piss you off or annoy you and Rafe would simply “take care of it”.

you believed something was suspicious when the people began to go missing and a reappearance of a masked killer was in the news every week, and deep in the pit of your stomach was excitement.

a mystery as to whom the killer was, a mystery as to what they wanted in the Outer Banks. it didn’t help that you were constantly surrounded the media, as you were the leading reporter around the town.

“Welcome back to channel 10 news, i’m Y/n L/n and today we’re at the crime scene of the masked killer who goes by the name of Ghostface…”

a chill went down Rafe’s spine as he sat on your shared bed, twirling the handle of the knife against his thigh as he watched the news intently.

you, his gorgeous girlfriend, reporting on the crime he committed last night while you slept softly.

were you as sinister, too? the gorgeous and twisted smile on your face as you reported the case made Rafe wonder.

he took the large kitchen knife and wiped the blood onto his jeans, the substance staining his clothes as he watched intently.

“and be careful, citizens of Outer Banks. Ghostface is still out there…”

your words rung in Rafe’s ears as the channel cut back to the people sitting in the station. Rafe grabbed his bag of cocaine that was left on the wood coffee table, putting the powder on his finger as he snorted it.

a few hours later, Rafe was sprawled out on your shared couch. one arm tucked behind his head, the other laying lazily on his side.

your keys rattled as you entered your shared home, letting out a yawn as you put your coat on the coatrack.

kicking off your heels, you approached Rafe, who was dead asleep. you threw your purse on the arm chair, kissing your boyfriend’s forehead.

he stirred in his sleep as you lit a cigarette, inhaling the smoke before blowing it out gently. you stood in the kitchen, wanting to feel your boyfriend hold you, but not wanting to wake him up.

walking into your shared bedroom, you opened the closet door. shuffling through the walk-in, your eyes scanned the clothes in search for a comfier outfit.

but when your eyes landed on a mask, a Ghostface mask, you could feel your heart stammer in your chest.

“y/n?”

Rafe’s voice scared you, making you jump slightly. the cigarette hung low on your nude-stained lips as you picked up the mask.

“what’s this, Rafe?”

Rafe eyed you, not knowing what to say. his pulse began to rise, his heart thumping nervously against his chest.

“i got it at the halloween store. guess they’re tryna have everyone be Ghostface.”

Rafe answered, leaning against the doorframe with his arm raised above his head. you cocked your eyebrow at him, but a naughty idea twisted into your mind.

you walked over to your boyfriend, putting the mask on over his head. you bit your lip, feeling your pussy tingle from the fantasy.

with Rafe’s flexing biceps as he leaned his head to the side, staring at you curiously, he watched as you subconsciously rubbed your legs together.

“is my naughty girl getting turned on?”

Rafe questioned you, his large hands trailing slowly down to your ass before squeezing it in his palms.

you nod, biting your bottom lip as Rafe suddenly walks you backwards onto your shared bed. a small noise escapes your desperate lips as you fall onto the plush bedding.

Rafe’s hand trails painfully slow down your face, dragging down to your neck, his cock swelling at the thought of how easy it would be to kill you.

your pretty neck so perfect for his hand, his knife, his pleasure.

as your eyes fluttered shut, all you could hear was Rafe’s staggered breathing behind the mask. within moments, a sharp, cold object was placed against your neck.

Rafe was beyond happy you couldn’t see his face, because the growing lust and feverish tendencies were driving him insane.

using his mask, his knife, his girl the way he pleased. and you never suspected a god damn thing, never suspected he was the ravenous murderer of the Outer Banks.

a gentle sigh escaped from your throat, realizing how Rafe was toying with your life for the sake of his pleasure.

the sharp edge of the knife gradually popped off each button of your blouse, your chest slowly rising and falling as your pupils were blown out wide.

you watched the murderous object trail down your clothes, so desperate to dig into your skin.

“Rafe-“ you panted out, the knife completely tearing your skirt apart.

but Rafe didn’t respond, too lost in the way your body was so reactive to him. so reactive to someone who could kill you easily.

your black panties were quickly shred with the skirt and Rafe felt himself pulling his pants down just enough for his throbbing cock to spring out.

he wasted no time in shoving his cock deeply into you, his knife angled directly where your vaginal walls swallowed his cock.

he gently pressed the knife harder into your skin, making you flinch from the stinging. your blood began to slowly trickle down your pelvis, and the sight made Rafe go feral.

his hips moved quickly against yours, his hand placed directly on your wound. moans escaped your mouth as you played with your breasts.

“does that hurt?”

Rafe asked you quietly, his eyes still fixated on your wound as his hips relentlessly pounded into you.

when you didn’t respond, Rafe took the knife and cut a little more onto your skin.

“fuck, Rafe! yes it hurts,” you choked out. tears built in your eyes, your pussy throbbing.

“good. i want it to fucking hurt.”

Rafe’s voice was rough and coarse, way too lost in his fantasy. his other hand rubbed your clit harshly, his eyes fixated on the way your bodies met.

Rafe snapped out of his gaze when your hand gripped his wrist tightly, his eyes going up to your face.

you took Rafe’s wrist and brought it up to your neck, his fingers closing on your throat.

“yeah? my dirty girl wants me to choke her while i fuck her dumb in my mask?”

your pussy clenched around his throbbing cock at his dirty talk. your eyes squeezed shut as you let out a breathy whine, the pain from your cut adding to your pleasure.

your legs began to shake as you came, your juices soaking his cock as he shot his cum into your womb.

“fucking take that cum.”

Rafe cooed, slapping your ass harshly, a red hand print tattooing onto your skin.

your chest was rising and falling as your boyfriend slid his cock out of you, your skin stinging as Rafe took the mask off.

his hair was matted onto his forehead, sweat dripping down onto his neck. in one swift motion, Rafe leaned down and licked the blood from your wound. he then walked to the bathroom, shoving his cock back into his pants.

you laid on the bed still, tired eyes as Rafe reentered the bedroom. he had a damp washcloth and bandage, his eyes trailing at your other scarred skin as he cleaned up your wound.

once he was finished with aftercare, he stroked your cheek gently. “my good girl.”

———————————————————————

the next morning came too quick. you woke tiredly, snoozing your alarm clock as you fought the strong urge to go back to sleep.

but when you didn’t feel Rafe’s arm around you, or his warmth, or his presence, you sat up in the dark room.

you turned on your bedside lamp, your phone reading four am. you rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you stood up, your legs sore, along with the new scar.

your feet padded quietly against the wooden floor as the light was on in the kitchen. your heart began to pound against your chest as the figure was standing next to the sink, the sound of the water pouring from the spout the only noise in the whole apartment.

“Rafe?”

you asked softly, the tall figure turning around. there stood a man in all black, a bloodied knife in his hands with blood splattered on his tanned skin.

in the Ghostface mask, in the kitchen, stood the killer. but when Rafe saw how you didn’t seem frightened, but yawned at the sight, he cocked his head to the side.

“if you’re going to be cleaning your murder weapons in the night can you at least make me a cup of coffee?”

your words seemed to hit him like a truck, as you approached the tall figure and took the mask off his head. Rafe’s jaw was gaped slightly open as he stared at you in shock.

“what…”

“of course i know you’re Ghostface, Rafe. i’m not a fucking idiot. you’re getting really sloppy with your kills lately. especially when i told you about that one guy stalking me and he randomly got murdered days later? i would’ve at least waited a month.”

you said nonchalantly, grabbing a mug as you poured water in your keurig. Rafe was in disbelief. he felt stupid for not expecting you to suspect him, let alone know.

“you- you don’t care?” Rafe asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at you.

“why would i? you would’ve killed me by now if you really wanted to. plus i get something out of it, i get annoying people out of the way and get news to cover.”

the whole situation was shocking Rafe. he couldn’t believe you just didn’t care.

“i mean i’ve thought about killing people before but never acted on it. but when you first started murdering people, i didn’t know until the first few months. but with news coverage comes investigating, and i’ve known you were the famous masked killer for months.”

you didn’t say another word, just stirring your coffee as you left the kitchen and walked back into your bedroom.

“try to get some sleep, yeah?” you called out.

and Rafe stood still in the kitchen, his mind racing a million thoughts, but one that wouldn’t escape his mind.

you were crazy too.

[vaaaaaiolet]

He’s away on a mission, but you can’t get him out of your head. Like he’s whispering from miles away. You can't bear how Leon’s presence haunts you. And then one night, you snap.

mdni. f / m, shameless smut but no p in v i swear i'll write it properly ONE DAY. fem masturbation, leon has a rich people bathroom, praise kink, you want him like CRAZY, also i get poetic on you :( and what if it all might be mutual WHOSAIDTHAT

word count: 889 // read on ao3

a/n: mdni / 18+ only, i'm sorry. this is in celebration of reaching 69 posts LMAO also i listened to a lot of fetish by selena. rip pop songs killed by mumble rappers. i <3 u

When Leon leaves for the umpteenth time to chase down bioterrorism’s next Carmen Sandiego, you can’t help but be a little distraught. Pissed for lack of more pleasing verbiage. If the world needed your boyfriend so badly, it could date him itself. 

You were here first. 

And you miss him. 

His paycheck keeps you company more often than he does. It’s not the money’s fault that Leon’s Jacuzzi doesn’t even come close to the molten heat of his skin against yours. He’d left his penthouse to you for a month this time; pressed a kiss to the top of your head and snuck his hand up the curve of your inner thigh right before he disappeared, his whisper like the burn of scotch on rocks: 

“Take care.”

“I’ll keep your place perfect,” you’d ducked to burrow into his heartbeat.

“Not the place, sweetheart. You.”

You’re breaking down, you think. You’re being masochistic, replaying that final exchange over and over and over again as you toss in Leon’s silk sheets. Maybe you’re overworked. His cologne sneaks inside your lungs, his siren song reverbs in your head. Arousal pools like something notorious in the pit of your stomach and Leon’s still not fucking here.

Take care.

Of yourself? Well, if he insisted.

Something unseen jerks you toward his bathroom through your navel. There’s no negotiating, no autonomy over the shaking hands that untie Leon’s favorite robe from your waist, dropping it to the floor in a puddle of blue. 

Good girl. 

Your skin blooms into familiar goosebumps.

Into the tub now.

There’s ancient pleasure in lowering yourself into the warm water. Leon’s bathroom is no Roman bathhouse, but his Jacuzzi gets pretty damn close. It turns you lithe and lush – you’re a goddess in Leon’s palms, in the heat of the water as you dip your head underneath and take your sweet time coming up for air. You set the jets as gentle as they can go. The heat between your legs thrums, compliant with their pace for now.

Another unfortunate fact about your boyfriend: Leon’s like Midas, except anything he touches simply falls under his mercy. It works with you, and it works with the tub because if he were here, he’d turn the knob for the jets to fire at sporadic, impatient intervals.

Taking too long.

The spurts of water behind your back sit you straight up. Your head jerks forward, your hand falls between your legs because there you go, baby, was that so hard? It is hard, it’s unbearable to finally notice the impatient ache that you’ve let fester in Leon’s absence. You gasp as your middle finger brushes against that swollen bundle of nerves. 

Circles, baby. How would I do it?

Your head spins. Leon would click his tongue and brush your hand aside to press a kiss onto your weeping slit, cradle your clit between the bump of his nose and brow, make you cry with a whispered command. Your hips twist in agony. Memories burn and Leon understands that best.

You substitute as best as you can. Hesitatingly dip a finger inside. You don’t know what you’re waiting for because you’ve waited too long.

Little more for me.

Heat sparks impossibly under the Jacuzzi’s water as you grow bold within minutes, rubbing two fingers now in concentric circles, faster and faster. Leon’s somewhere on the other side of the world without a clue that his name’s being whined so pitifully. You sink a third finger in as your arousal mixes with water, bucking helplessly, hopelessly – you’re racing now. Pushing everything out and back in. Miles shrinking to feet. Is this the chase Leon lays down his life for? 

You need Leon to crack you open. You’re up to your knuckles now, his name sounding strung-out in your mouth as you plead to the skies. Where’s the plane bringing him home? 

Almost there. 

You don’t want to be close. Not without him.

You sound perfect. Doing so well.

“God!” You cry out loud. 

Just me, baby.

Embarrassingly enough, you break. You choke on the wave threatening to rend you apart. Pleasure courses between your legs, shipwrecking you in Leon’s tub, your thighs slamming shut as you keel over the tub’s ceramic edge. You’re scrambling to hold on to something to keep afloat as sparks light you on fire. Leon would snicker to himself if he was between your legs like you wanted, cooing pretty things into your ear, the rumble of his laugh stretching the ebb and flow of your orgasm out for however long he desires. He’d whet his appetite for the next time.

“No, no no no…” 

But infuriatingly, he’s not here, and the fireworks in your stomach turn into distress signals as your orgasm clams itself back up with no one to appreciate its showy colors. 

Leftover breaths rattle your ribcage as you stand in the tub. You’re doused in moonlight, a spotlight you don’t want. The strings of leftover slick lining your thighs get wiped away with a paper towel and shamefully shoved down a wastebasket. You can’t keep your hands to yourself for one night?

Pathetic.

And miles away, spread-eagle and groaning your name on stained sheets he’ll need to hide from housekeeping in the morning, Leon shares the sentiment. 

So good for me, Leon.

He’s weak too.

psst, find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3 take care and i love you!

[pinksturniolo]

Biggest Hater - Part One

Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader

Part 1 of 2

Alternate version of my Chris fic: Biggest Fan

Requested by the baddest! @muwapsturniolo

Summary: You just don’t get the hype of the Sturniolo Triplets like almost every girl your age does. It probably has a lot to do with the fact that you went to high school with them and Matt Sturniolo particularly, got on your nerves more than anyone you thought ever could. In fact, it has everything to do with that. And when you run into him a couple years later, at the peak of their fame, your feelings haven’t changed one bit. No matter how attractive you find him.

Content warnings: smut, fingering, thigh riding, car sex, loss of reader's virginity, mean!matt (even tho he’s an angel irl), ANGST AF, enemies to lovers trope (somewhat?), slightly toxic, weed smoking

disclaimer: matt and reader are both of age in the prom flashback. also, dont drive under the influence if that wasnt already obvious lol

word count: 4,325

Hate is a strong word. What does it really mean to hate someone? It’s a powerful human emotion that many say is dangerously close to the emotion of love. To feel so strongly about someone, that every time you see them or hear their name it evokes a strong reaction in you, can cause your heart to race in your chest, and your hands to shake.

That’s how you felt every time you saw or heard of Matt. Whenever you visit your family home in Somerville, that’s practically all you hear people talk about. How famous he and his brothers are now and how successful they’ve become. Literally every girl you know has a crush on them. Even your roommate, Stephanie. It gives you a migraine how much people talk about them.

You couldn’t help how much of a hater you were. It wasn’t like you to be like this, you were usually supportive of mostly everyone, especially people you knew or grew up with. You went to high school with the triplets, so you had the privilege firsthand to experience how they were before their YouTube fame.

Chris was funny, always making jokes in class and very talkative. You didn’t mind him as much, during the few interactions you had with him, you found him to be sweet and he was known as kind of a player, but you never saw or heard of him treating a girl with disrespect.

Nick was outspoken and opiniated which you appreciated, and always nice to everyone. You actually got along with him really well, usually pairing up with him for projects in the biology class you two had together. He even invited you over to his house to hang out a couple times, but you politely declined. You adored him but there was one person you just could not be around that would be there.

Matt. He got on your last nerve like no other. He had the worst attitude, and it bothered the fuck out of you. He was pretty quiet, and he often missed school. But the times you were around him, he gave you the dirtiest looks and rolled his eyes whenever you spoke. Why? You had no clue. He was also an instigator, constantly pitting you against Chris and Nick for no reason, which they usually ignored but it pissed you off, nonetheless. There was just something about him that fueled rage in you like you’ve never felt. And it did not help that you were so goddamn attracted to him.

Let’s be honest, all that tension and angst is bound to create a type of energy that just can’t be ignored. Even if it’s caused by someone you can’t stand.

Then, came senior prom. The events of that night and what happened after, forever solidified your hateful feelings towards him.

You had gone with separate dates of course, but somehow ended up alone together by the end of the night. You had a suspicion that your friends and his brothers had something to do with it, but you sat in awkward silence and moping next to him on the bleachers as the rest of your senior class danced on the gym floor.

Large social events like this were not your cup of tea and neither for Matt. You rest your chin in your hand as you lean on your knees, watching your date dance like an idiot. He was your ride home and you were starting to get fed up, tempted to call your parents to pick you up or even order an Uber.

“What an idiot.” Matt says to you, his eyes also on your date.

You scoff, “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“I mean, I knew you were a loser, but I didn’t think you were that desperate.”

You turn to glare at him. “I don’t see your pathetic date anywhere.”

“She was talking too much for my liking.”

“Wow, what a gentleman you are.” You shake your head, eyeing his outfit up and down. “Looks like you didn’t put much effort into your appearance either, so she must not be that special.”

He smirks at your response, his eyes on your body as well. “I wouldn’t be saying anything with that tacky dress you have on.”

You hit him on the arm, anger filling you from his words. “You’re such a dick.”

“Ow!” Matt rubs his arm, his face scrunched up in pain. “Now I see why your date left you, you really are a brat.”

You huff in annoyance, beginning to wonder why you were even sitting here next to him. You stand up, picking your dress up from around your feet so you can step down the bleachers.

“Wait, hold on.” Matt says suddenly, wrapping his hand around your wrist to stop you from leaving.

You stop and look at him, your eyebrows raised in expectation. His fingertips burn into you and his eyes somewhat soften when you look into them.

“Fuck- my bad. I’ll stop, I promise.” he says, stopping you from leaving.

You’re surprised at his words and his fingers removed from around your wrist, when he sees that you’re not leaving, standing over him. He avoids eye contact with you while you stare at the side of his face, his hands now stuffed in the pockets of his suit pants.

His hair is longer now than it usually was, a middle part that showed more of his face and he wore a pair of earrings that you secretly liked. Despite your earlier comment, you also thought the suit looked really good on him. Matt had always had a good sense of fashion, but if anyone asked you, you would say his wardrobe is basic and unattractive.

“You better have a good reason for me to stay Matt because I’m starting to get tired and I just wanna go lay in my bed.” You tell him, waiting for him to say something, your arms crossed.

It’s then that he pulls a joint from his pocket, a mischievous look on his face.

“You can get stoned with me and relax for once in your life.” He says and you hesitate for a second before he stands up, and starts walking down the bleachers, motioning for you to follow.

You don’t know why, but your feet seem to have a mind of their own as you follow him, out of the gym and around the corner of the school. At this point you really had nothing better to do, even if it meant getting high with Matt.

He leads you to the football field across from the gym to the press box at the top of the stadium. You both sit inside, smoke starting to fill the small room as you and Matt pass the joint back and forth until it’s finished.

You both are actually engaged in a conversation that isn’t an argument for once and you find yourself giggling with him. Whether it’s because of the weed or because it’s prom night, you’re not sure.

You look at your phone, the time now almost midnight. “I should probably head home.” You say, getting ready to call your parents.

“Do you have a curfew?” Matt asks, a look on his face like he’s hoping you’ll say no.

“Not really…” you answer, setting your phone back down on your lap.

“Wanna go for a drive?”

✿

Matt watches with a smile as you as you catch your breath, laughing hysterically from his spot-on impression of Nick when he’s angry. You wipe the tears from your eyes, having laughed so hard you were crying. Your hair has fallen from the perfect curls you took extra time on earlier, the strap of your dress sliding down your left shoulder.

He realizes you have a nice laugh, not hearing it often since you’re always pissed off around him. You look beautiful, even more than you usually do, especially like this. The moonlight shines on your skin and he can’t help but stare at you until you catch him, and he looks away shyly, his heart starting to pound in his chest.

You’ve both been sitting here for the past 30 minutes, parked at the now empty neighborhood playground by your house. Matt had driven around for a while, even stopped to get McDonald’s, before he decided the night wasn’t over just yet and lit up another joint after your highs came down.

Now you both were absolutely shitfaced, having the most fun you’ve had in a while. It’s surprising how much you and Matt actually get along under the influence, probably because it calmed you both down enough to forget your stubborn tempers and just enjoy good conversation and laughter.

“Why didn’t you ever come hang out when Nick invited you over? I’m having a blast right now.” Matt says, leaning his seat back a little to relax.

“I think you already know that answer.” You reply, and your eyes trail down his body and the way it looks as he leans back. He removed his suit jacket when you guys were in the drive thru earlier, and the sleeves of his white dress shirt are rolled up, his tie loose around his neck.

“Come on, you can’t really hate me that much can you?”

You sigh, looking away from him and out the window. Of course, he’s oblivious to how much he would actually bother you.

“Are you really that clueless?” You ask and look back at him. His eyes are glazed over and slightly red but incredibly blue.

“When it comes to you… yes.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, ignoring his response while brushing a hand through your hair and picking it up off the back of your neck. “God, its hot in here.” You say and he watches as you move your hair and lean your head to the side, your lips parted. Your slender neck looks inviting, and he can see your pulse jump.

He rolls the windows down slightly, letting most of the weed smoke filter out. His eyes are still on your face and when you return his gaze, this time, he doesn’t shy away.

“What?” You ask, the look on his face makes you nervous. He licks his lips as he looks back and forth between your eyes and your mouth, his jaw clenching.

The smoke has cleared but the air feels incredibly tense now as you stare back. Soft music plays on the radio and the wind blows through the trees outside. You feel like you’ve been transported to an alternate reality, the turn this night has taken starting to not feel real.

“Has anyone ever kissed you before?” Matt finally speaks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You feel your face heat in embarrassment at his question. “Uh… n-no.”

You internally cringe at the way you stutter, and the corners of his lips raise slightly at the flustered look on your face.

His hand comes up to your jaw, his thumb lightly brushing over your bottom lip. “Can I be your first?”

It’s no question that Matt has always found you attractive, even though he’s never voiced his thoughts to anyone about it. The problem is, he doesn't like most people and when it came to you, he just couldn’t swallow his pride enough to let his guard down. It turns out you two are extremely similar and it made you butt heads constantly. So, instead of letting himself let someone in for once, he chose to dislike you and it had always been easier that way.

But the way you look tonight, the infectious energy he’s getting from you now that he’s been alone with you for more than 5 minutes, it has him feeling something he’s never felt before.

Electric sparks crackle through you from his light touch on your lips and you almost open your mouth to taste him. But you’re still incredibly nervous. You haven’t had your first kiss yet, your first anything yet but all your thoughts can repeat is yes, yes, yes. Please be my first.

You nod and he leans over the middle console, his hand now firmly holding the side of your face, his fingertips sliding into your hair. Your heart threatens to go into cardiac arrest as he slowly presses his lips to yours, as if you might break like fine china.

But once your lips are connected, your nerves start to disappear and are replaced with feelings of excitement. They mold together almost perfectly, as he kisses your bottom lip and then your top one, his thumb stroking over your jaw. It feels incredibly sweet and tastes like sugar.

He pulls away slightly, his face still hovering over yours. You make eye contact and put your hands on his chest, your fingers grasping his shirt collar, afraid he might move away from you. “How’s that feel?” He breathes, his voice coming out in a rasp.

“Amazing...” You reply and he bites his bottom lip, his pants tightening from the look of pure want in your eyes. Before he can say anything, you kiss him again, this time with hunger and it feels like you’ve done it a million times before.

You expected your first kiss to be awkward, maybe even a little embarrassing. But this is nothing like that, your body heating and heart racing at the feeling of his wet, warm mouth against yours. He leads the kiss, both hands now on your face, his tongue sliding against yours.

It has your panties growing incredibly wet under your dress, and your breathing rapid as you grasp the tie around his neck, pulling it so he can get even closer than he already is. And then, he moans into your mouth and the sound has butterflies erupting inside you.

You decide you need more and push him back a little, disconnecting your lips. He starts to protest but then immediately stops when you climb over the middle and straddle him in the driver’s seat.

Luckily, the van is spacious and you’re not too uncomfortable as you sit on his lap, your dress riding up on your thighs. He places his hands on your hips as you kiss him again, gripping the silk harshly.

You can feel how hard he is under you, and he groans when you unknowingly grind against him, your body moving faster than your mind can think.

“Don’t do that.” He pants, catching his breath and stopping your hip movements. His eyes are closed, his eyebrows scrunched together as if he’s in pain. Your hands are on his broad shoulders, and they dip into his dress shirt through his loose collar, running your palms over his skin.

“What’s wrong? Does it hurt?” You ask and you move your hips again, this time a little slower. The feeling of his clothed dick against you has sparked a feeling of need in you that you’ve never felt.

He shakes his head, throwing it back against the headrest, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. His grip slightly loosens on your hips but still tight on your dress as he allows you to grind down onto him. Your head falls into the crook of his neck as you let the pleasure of your movements take over.

He lets his eyes travel down to his crotch where there’s a large wet spot forming on his pants from your arousal. “Fuck…” He moans aloud and his dick throbs from the sight. He lifts your dress slightly and sees the outline of your lacy red underwear, his hands moving to grope your ass.

You’re panting against his neck and start to place soft kisses on his skin, eliciting more groaning from him. You reach your hand down to his belt, starting to unbuckle it.

“Y/N.” He says, stopping your hips firmly now. The tone in his voice makes you pull your head up and he’s trying to keep his resolve from completely slipping when he sees the way your eyes are blacked out in lust.

“I don’t want to do this if you’re not ready.” He says, searching your eyes for any hint of fear. He honestly didn’t expect an innocent kiss to turn into this.

You should’ve said no. You should’ve stopped it then and there, should’ve asked him to take you home.

Should’ve.

Could’ve.

Would’ve.

“Matt, I want this so bad right now. Please.” You whine, arousal clouding your mind and the feeling of your body on his is something you can’t refuse.

He gives in, his eyes on yours as he unbuckles his belt, and you lift slightly so he can pull his pants down just enough to the middle of his thighs. He guides you back down on him, this time so you sit around his left thigh.

You’re a little confused but he wraps his arms around your back, one of his hands tangling into the back of your hair as he holds you against him. “Just relax. Grind on me like you were doing earlier, baby. You were doing so good.” He instructs and the way he calls you baby has your heart fluttering in your chest.

He kisses you, and you do as he says, the feeling of his thigh tensing under you making your body heat with arousal again. You moan slightly, as you slide over him. He then pulls your panties to the side, so you’re bare against him, and the feeling has you both gasping.   

“Oh… my god.” You breathe, failing to kiss him back as you shamelessly moan his name. You feel a strong need inside you, and you let your body move against him fluidly, your wetness coating his thigh.

Matt knows what he’s doing. He knows it’s your first time and he wants you to be comfortable. Granted, the minivan might not be the classiest place, but he’s enjoying it if you are. He wants you to know what it feels like to have an orgasm all on your own (besides the help of his thigh) before he’s inside you. Before he absolutely ruins you.

You’re whimpering now, your hips picking up the pace as you chase a different kind of high. He feels incredible and you want to feel embarrassed at the way you’re getting off on his thigh right now but all you can think of is how good it feels.

“Fuck, you’re so wet..” he groans, his own eyes closing in pleasure at the way your pussy feels, slippery and warm on him.

“Matt…” You whine, and he presses his forehead to yours, his hands on your lower back, helping you ride him. “I know baby, let go. Its okay.” He says softly and the coil that’s been building for the past 20 minutes since he kissed you, finally releases and warmth floods your body. You moan loudly and feel yourself leaking on his thigh, your hips slowing down.

You’re out of breath as your movements stop, your heart still racing. “So good, baby. You did so good.” He whispers and you can see and feel how hard he is in his boxers, as your hands brush over him. He grabs your wrists before you can continue.

“Nuh uh.” He simply hums and lifts you up slightly. “Get in the back.”

The dominant tone in his voice causes butterflies again as you climb off him and into the back seat, laying down. He follows shortly after, unbuttoning his shirt so it’s completely open now and pulls his pants all the way off. He puts one arm above your head as he hovers over you, a dark look in his eyes.

His soft hand moves up your thigh, goosebumps erupting across your skin, and he pushes your dress up to your waist. Your red panties are stilled pulled to the side, the wetness from your previous orgasm coating you. He bites his lip, running his fingers through your folds. You gasp from the feeling, still a little sensitive from earlier.

“Let me know if you need me to stop, okay?” He says and you nod, gripping onto his bicep.

He spreads your legs a little further, your knees against his waist and pushes a single fingertip inside you, slowly easing his finger in. There’s a little discomfort at first but it’s quickly replaced with pleasure when he starts pumping it in and out of you. He adds another finger, and you whimper at the feeling, this being completely different from when you were riding his thigh.

“You okay?” he asks, continuing to slide his fingers in you. “God, yes.” You moan, closing your eyes to the feeling. He smirks at your response and the sound of your wetness has him buzzing with arousal. He’s been incredibly attentive to you and patient, and his boxers are suffocating his achingly hard cock.

Your hips start to buck, as you crave more, his fingers starting to hit a spongy spot in your walls, a slow fire spreading within you. He removes his fingers completely, pushing your hips down.

You pout at the loss of contact, and he chuckles, pulling himself out of his boxers. “Not yet, sweetheart. Be patient for me.” He says and your eyes travel down to where he spreads your arousal from his fingers on his cock, stroking a few times to coat it.

You heard he was big but had assumed they were just silly rumors. You were so wrong.

You continue to stare, and he guides himself to your entrance, his hand now forcing your head up to look at him. “Eyes up here, baby.” He says, a smug smirk on his face.

He places a hand on your waist, his other hand still against the window above you as he pushes the tip into you. It’s a little overwhelming, and you’re not sure how he’s even going to fit all of it in you, but his touch relaxes you as he rubs soothingly over your hip, going as slowly as he can.

He’s halfway in, the burning already starting to disappear as he soon eases all the way into you, and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head as you clench around him, the feeling of him snug in your walls.

“So fucking tight…” He groans, his jaw clenched and squeezes a little harsher on your hip. He leans down closer to you, his arm coming to rest next to your head. He stays still inside you, letting you adjust.

“Matt.” You moan, your hands moving into his hair, tugging at the roots.

“Yes baby? You feel alright?” He checks.

“Yes. Please move.” You respond and he obeys your words gladly, pulling out almost all the way only to bury himself inside again. He makes slow, deep thrusts into you and the feeling has your head swimming, your thighs clenching around him, and your jaw dropped open slightly.

The feeling is indescribable, and he struggles to not cum inside you after only the first sixty seconds. That’s how good you feel around him, soaking wet and so tight.

The windows of the van are completely fogged, the air thick and hot. Your moans and whimpers are swallowed as he kisses you, his thrusts slowly picking up in pace. You both are speechless and there’s an unspoken realization between the two of you as your bodies move together in sync, your lips attached, breathing in each other’s air. The outside world has drifted away, the sweet bubble of pleasure and desire encasing you two.

“Matt.. I’m gonna cum again..” You warn, feeling the release build and build, your legs starting to shake.

“I know, Y/N. I want you to, please. Cum for me.” He responds and the movements of hips against yours are uneven now, his own release slowly crumbling. You cry out as you orgasm for the second time tonight, your walls clenching around him. He’s panting your name as he releases his seed into you at the same time, his fingertips leaving bruises on your hip.

“So fucking proud of you.” He murmurs, an exhausted smile on his face.

Mind shattering. Body numbing. Earth quaking, unforgettable sex. Nothing compared to it.

These are the memories flooding your mind as you sit on the leather couch, a cold drink in your hand, and your friend next to you, leaning over to talk into your ear over the loud music of the party. “No fucking way. Are you seeing what I’m seeing right now?” She says and you take a sip of your drink, nodding your head. “Yup.”

Matt stands at the other side of the large living room, laughing with Chris and Nick and a few other people. He hasn’t noticed you yet, but as you keep your eyes on him, it’s as if he can feel you staring. He turns his head in your direction and once he makes eye contact with you, his smile falls, and for a second, he almost looks upset, his eyes lingering on you.

And then he looks away, whispering something to Chris and walks off, towards the hallway.

Of course, he would run away as soon as he saw you. He’s pathetic.

In fact, you feel pathetic thinking you wouldn’t run into him here in Boston, his hometown. At a party one of your mutual friends is throwing no less. But still, you were hoping, no, praying that the one time you decide to leave your house and socialize, you wouldn’t see him.

And now your heart feels like it’s going to fall out of your ass, your head filled with old feelings you can’t escape. You hadn’t talked to Matt since that night, two years ago. You hadn’t even seen him since graduation. You avoided any video or clip of him that would come across your phone. You couldn’t bear to look at him.

You fucking hated Matthew Sturniolo. For many, many good reasons.

a/n: please dont come at me for making matt so mean in this one!! 😔 and if this flops ill be so sad lol i hope yall like it so far

taglist <3: (if you want to be added/taken off, reply to this post or comment on my masterlist. and if you weren't mentioned, it wouldnt let me tag u :/)

@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo @junnniiieee07 @sturnsjtop @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @honestlyjb @mattslolita @certifiednatelover @glassesmattsbae @eryismum @sturncakez @sturnioloco @wh0resstuff @ribread03 @sturniololoco @75sturn

[hairyjocktf]

First Workout of the Year

Aidan was just starting his second semester at university, and after a long winter break of being a bum he was ready to get back to his goal of finally getting in some semblance of shape.Despite his efforts during the fall he was still practically a twig, something the studs on grindr were keen to let him know. This was finally going to be when he packed on some size, he told himself as he headed into the campus gym. It was packed with people his size, trying for those new year's resolutions, with the regular jocks standing out amongst the crowd. He squeezed in between the hoards of people, getting in a basic circuit on the resistance machines. After about 40 measly minutes he was sweaty, out of breath, and decided to call it a day for his first workout back.

He headed to the locker room to rinse off before getting on his way. Letting the warm water pour over him for a few minutes, he let his thoughts drift to the hunks he saw in the free weight area. Damn they looked good, he thought, I hope I can pull off a tank top like that eventually. Eventually he came back to reality, turned off the water and reached for his towel. Or at least, where his towel was supposed to be. Shit! I must’ve forgotten it and not even noticed, he lamented. Soaking wet and low on options, he peeked out from the stall to see if anyone was around. Shockingly, the place was empty. On a nearby bench he spotted a leftover towel. Not that he wanted to use a dirty towel, but there weren’t many alternatives. Embarrassed about his actions, he darted over and snagged the towel before hiding back in the shower. 

Eager to put this whole situation behind him, he used the towel to dry off his body, followed by his face. But while wiping his face he noticed a stench that had been missed earlier. The towel absolutely reeked of sweat and body odor. Upon opening his eyes at the eye watering smell he saw an even more disgusting problem: the towel was coated in thick dark hairs! How did I not see that? He cursed at himself. He spit one out of his mouth. Disgusted, he threw the towel down to the floor and quickly changed back into his clothes before storming out of the gym.

On his walk back to his dorm he was pissed, Who would leave a filthy towel like that? He angrily thought, and why did I not pay closer attention? The afternoon was warm, and he felt himself sweating. Guess I’ll have to shower again, he thought to himself. As he kept walking he felt increasingly sore in his muscles, maybe that workout was better than he had thought. He caught himself scratching at his pit, which was odd behavior for him, but he brushed it off as just being sweaty and sore. He brought his finger back up to his nose and sniffed them. Phew I stink! He said to himself. A moment later that action registered in his brain, Why the hell did I just scratch and sniff my pit? He began to worry. His shirt began to feel a little tighter than normal, restricting his arm movements as he walked. His shoes also felt smaller than usual. He continued making his way home, nearly there, as worry truly set in.

By the time he reached his dorm his back was drenched with sweat, he was feeling sore and itchy and all around uncomfortable. As he reached his hand to the door to put his key in his eyes widened. His hand was much larger than normal, as was his forearm, and they were both coated in thick dark hairs. As he stared, the hairs seemed to grow denser as they spread up his forearm to his bicep, which was also inflating to ridiculous size. Aidan quickly threw open the door and ran inside straight to his bathroom mirror. 

What he saw made his jaw drop. His frame had grown substantially since leaving the gym just a while before, pushing against his now tight clothing. He could see his biceps and shoulders bulging under the fabric, stretching his t-shirt to its limit. As he stared agape in the mirror his pecs also began to grow, inflating his shirt even more. He groaned in discomfort as everything felt so sore as his muscles packed on years worth of mass in seconds. With a final grunt, his shirt split open, unable to contain his hulking body in a size small any longer.

His shirt in tatters, Aidan’s bulked up body was now clearly visible. Muscle mass was not the only thing growing on him. As he stared at his mountainous pecs, tiny dark spots began to appear across them. Dark pinpricks spread across his chest before erupting into dark brown hairs. Thin at first, they quickly darkened and thickened into respectable chest fur as his skin disappeared beneath the growing coat. It spread out from the center, swirling across his pecs and thickening around his nipples as thicker, longer hairs sprouted around them. The hairs crawled up to his collarbone, making sure that plenty of dark hairs would be visible above any shirt. He moaned from the feeling of the hair spreading, filling his new body with ecstasy.

Aidan felt his previously flat stomach contort, with pronounced abs growing in and giving him that sought after V shape he admired in other jocks. That definition was quickly buried under his spreading body hair, however, as it raced down from his chest. Thick, dark hairs grew down in waves across his stomach, burying his abs under a coat of dense fur just like his chest. But that was just the beginning of it. He felt a strong itch below the waist of his paints as pressure increased substantially there. Pulling out his waistband he watched in horror as thick hairs erupted across his groin, engulfing the wisps that had been there before. The hairs were thick, dark, and grew curlier by the second as they spread. They grew up above his waistband, connecting to the forest that had covered his stomach, and then down to his thighs. His balls were not spared that fate either, with his sack becoming overrun with fur. With a densely hairy crotch that only continued to grow, Aidan groaned and put his hands up to his face, revealing a flash of dark under his arm. 

He lifted his arm just in time to see thick, wiry hairs erupting from his armpit. They grew longer and thicker as they spread out, and he could see the sweat getting trapped in the bushes already. He scratched at the growing tuft of hair with his other hand, feeling the hairs grow and curl as they filled his armpit to the brim, sticking out even when he put his arm down. Those hairy pits already smelled to match the jock he was becoming, it was eye watering. The hairs even filled out to the point of connecting with his chest hair, giving his upper body a full coat. Or so he thought, at least, before the hairs began crawling up his boulder shoulders, the fur wrapping all the way to his back. The itchiness growing on his other side told him all he needed to know. Thick hairs were worming their way out across his shoulder blades, dusting his entire back with dark fur. The hairs climbed down, thickening as they approached his ass, which itself had grown quite a bit without him noticing. The itchy feeling reached a zenith as dark brown hairs began pushing out of his plump ass, giving him a nice thick fur coat even there. He reached around to scratch at his hole, feeling intense pleasure as thick curly hairs burst out around it, filling his crack with dark hairs.

It was at this point, half lost in pleasure, that Aidan noticed his pants becoming incredibly tight. To avoid what happened with his shirt he quickly stripped them off, watching his quads grow to three times the size they had been, and the rest of his legs packing on impressive size. The thick hair in his groin and on his ass spread downwards, coating his thighs in an absolute rug of curly hairs. They of course did not stop there, shooting up across his calves and stretching down towards his feet, which began to grow quickly. After kicking off his shoes he watched as his feet grew longer, toes getting thicker as the same thick dark hairs popped up across his toes and the top of his foot. He was now stuck with huge hairy jock feet! Aidan looked back up at the mirror, seeing a hulking and incredibly hairy jocked up body that looked nothing like he had just an hour before. The only thing out of place was his babyface, though something told him that was soon to change.

As if waiting for that moment, the hairs on his face began to sprout. Follicles pushed out hair after hair as his chin darkened. His hands scratched at the growing stubble as it covered his face, wiry hairs exploding across his upper lip. The thick hairs continued growing and spreading, giving him full coverage, reaching high up on his cheeks and connecting down to his chest hair. The fur crawled out of him, leaving barely any of his skin visible by the end. His body continued to explode with muscle, his frame getting heavier and bulkier. The hair hid most of the definition but anyone would still be able to tell how absolutely built he was now. The changes had taken a lot out of him as well, he was drenched in sweat and out of breath looking at his new form in the mirror. He absolutely reeked as well, all the new hair catching sweat and musk. 

Somehow though, he didn’t seem to mind that much. He had always been a real hairy and stinky guy, ever since puberty hit him hard in middle school. Kids had made fun of him then but now they admired and lusted after him. He was a real stud, and he was late for his second workout of the day.

This was my first ever tf story, let me know if you like it! Hopefully they'll only get better from here. If you have ideas for future stories also let me know, I'd love to try out more.

[henry7931]

TF NBM/Head Swap Shorts I

Personal Trainer

Zach:

I think most people really push to meet their personal body goals but it takes a lot of motivation. My client Bradley puts in the work but I know sometimes it can be exhausting especially after a long day. That’s why I offer my customer’s a once a week head swap where I let them have my body for a day while I work out with theirs.

I actually really enjoy having Bradley’s body, he’s exactly my type! Thick and hairy. So it’s an extra bonus that I can work out naked since Bradley’s not here.

I even reward myself with a jerk session using Bradley’s thick cock. God this fury chest and these stinky pits… I’ve been working hard.

I run Bradley’s fingers over his sweaty hairy balls and bring them up to my noise.

“Yep… it’s time to have some fun now!”

I get up go over to Bradley’s bed and start sniffing his big smelly hairy feet. God, I sometimes just look forward to this all week.

I lay back and start jerking his meat.

I look over at the clock and notice the time. I still have 2 hours.

Hell, I could get loads done in that time! Woohoo!!

Bradley:

God I love my personal trainer, I don’t even give a shit about the work out. I just love that once a week, I get to have his body for a whole day.

I love exploring every inch of him. His nice bubbly ass, his thick cock, the muscles, oh I can’t forget about his big sexy feet!

I’m so glad that I really don’t need to do anything when we swap heads. Zach thinks that I work remote from his home but I haven’t told him that my day off is the same day we swap.

I’m just glad that I can send my entire day playing with his cock. I’ll spend hours stroking it and edging it. When I’m ready for it to bust, I’ll pull my head off and plant my mouth right on it.

It’s the best feeling, using your own head like a toy. And I get to swallow all of Zach’s load.

Hmmm I wonder if we would be open to swap for more than one day….

Roommate’s Condition

Mitchell

My roommate and one of my best friends Felix was recently diagnosed with a special condition where his body parts uncontrollably become detached.

Most of the time, it’s just his head separating body and it will wonder around our place. Sometimes it’s just his lower half of his body. Every now and then I’ll find his hand or his foot lying around on the floor.

I feel bad for him since he can’t really help it.

It’s been over a month since his diagnosis and I think he’s starting to accept it since they don’t have any kind of cure.

But one day he said something to me that I wasn’t ever expecting.

“Mitch, I know you’re gay and single. You’ve done a lot for me. I want to offer you something. You’re more than welcome to use my body parts to explore and enjoy. Just not my head lol”

I was stunned by his words, I knew Felix was straight so I could never imagined him making such a crazy offer.

So the first time I took him up on his offer was after I came home from a party just a little bit tipsy. I went to take a piss when I saw his lower half stuck in the shower. They must have fallen in at some point and I knew Felix was already asleep.

So I pick up his lower half and started to take them back to his room.

But I looked down at Felix’s sexy legs and feet…

I could feel a nervous excitement rush through me.

I turned to my room with his lower half and laid it down on my bed.

I took his feet into my hands and smelled them. I could feel his toes wiggling in excitement on my cheeks. I ran my tongue up and down his soles…

I was so turned on that I couldn’t help myself. I unbuttoned his pants and pulled them off along with his briefs.

I held his briefs in hands taking a huge whiff….

I looked down at Felix’s hairy balls and semi hard cock.

I start to toy with some until it was standing rock hard and leaking out a bit.

I reached into my drawer and pulled out my lube. I run it over his hairy hole and start gingerly inserting my fingers into it. It’s so tight…

Once I knew it loose enough, I pulled off my pants and started inserting my dick into it.

It’s so much easier getting it into him with an upper half. I positioned him to where I’m laying down and it’s on top of me.

I start showing it by guiding his hips on how to ride my dick.

Soon Felix’s lower half was becoming a pro at bottoming.

It felt so good! I would toy with his dick while letting his legs and butt do all of the work.

It started to most faster and I kept up with his speed on his dick. Started yanking at it and hurt a popping noise. His was now detached in my hands.

So I started sucking it back and forth like a lollipop.

I could feel myself getting so close!

I started to cum inside of him and what was so crazy was that his dick started to squirt in my mouth all at the same time!

I stuck his wet dick back into place and turned his ass around only see my cum leaking out.

I cleaned it up before bed and brought it back with me to cuddle with in bed.

Weeks later of hooking up, Felix’s body goes to bed with me every night knowing I’m going to get it off at night. I think his body not only enjoys the sex but also likes the companionship. And I do too.

Maybe one day his head will join us but for right now, I just love having his body with me!

Uncle Franks Out of Town, But His Body Isn’t!

Caleb:

God I love it when Uncle Frank gets me to watch his body for him.

He does this weird job where he had to wear certain bodies for it. He can’t tell me too much about it.

Although, I couldn’t care less! Because now I have an entire week where I can wear his body as my own.

Uncle Frank is about 6,2’, muscular, and has an ungodly size cock. You see how big his feet are?

Yeah, imagine what his dick looks like…

This time I started my morning off lying in his California sized king bed butt ass naked. It’s so comfy, I hardly want to move.

Then I fondled with his morning wood until I’m so close to cumming…

That’s when I got a very evil idea. I went to guest bedroom and picked up my 19 year old, petite body and brought it into his room with me.

My body was naked and covered in dry cum (mainly from the fun I had last night fulling around with uncle franks headless body) . I carried it back to his room where I placed it bed with me.

I positioned body to where my ass was easily accessible and started to lick my clean hole.

Once good and wet, I carefully inserted uncle Franks massive dick into it. But I only went half way scared I’d hurt myself.

I began thrusting which became kinda hard to do.

That’s when I got another idea, I pulled out of myself and repositioned my body.

I had both of my soft smooth feet in uncle Frank’s manly hands.

I spit on both of them and cupped them around his dick.

The softness of my soles felt soooo good on his dick.

I was turned on that could only last a few minutes before squirting loads of cum all over them.

Afterwards, I carried my body to the bathtub and started the water to let it soak.

I immediately had to piss but uncle franks dick was still so hard.

So I sat down on the toilet and peed, I can’t help but be so obsessed with my Uncle’s hairy legs and feet. They’re just so big and powerful.

I walked back over after my piss to my body, I noticed my cock was throbbing still from thrusting into my hole so I figured I’d help it out a bit. I jerked my body off and licked all of the excess cum off of uncle franks fingers.

God my morning has already started out great!

I walked back to franks room and saw my phone going off.

It’s my friend Jeremy FaceTiming me. I answered it not thinking about the fact that I still had my uncles body on.

“Dude… wait what the hell?”

“What?” I say back still not realizing.

“Caleb, whose body do you have on?”

Oh shit!

“Oh it’s um, well it’s my uncle franks.”

“You’re hot uncle???”

I rolled my eyes at the camera.

“I’m coming over now!”

Jeremy seemed so excited to come see my uncles body. Jeremy’s a good looking guy and I wouldn’t mind fooling around with him some time.

I wonder if he’d be open to it with uncle franks body on 😜

[dreamwatch]

Kick 'em When They're Up

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest June warm-up round.

Prompt: Band on the run | Word Count: 997 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Established Relationship, the press being scumbags, angst, Eddie Munson needs a hug, and Steve is going to give it to him, they're in love your honour | AO3

*title from Dirty Laundry by Don Henley

****

It’s taken eight years for it to come out; one world tour, three albums. One video that blew up on MTV. And that was the problem.

Because being a metal band, while they were famous, in metal magazines, in the scene, they weren’t famous. They weren’t Metallica. But it was cool. They were successful enough, they had everything they ever wanted.

But see, you have a successful single, and people who don’t know you, well, now they know you. And they want to know more about you, so they buy magazines. And some magazines, some shitty, low rent, nasty fucking rags, they really dig.

It’s been a long time since he’s seen his photograph alongside Chrissy Cunningham's.

They’d barely got off the stage in Quebec before Phil, their manager, was getting them into cars and back to the hotel. No one telling them a goddamn thing, just “We have a situation, we have to go.” They all piled into Phil’s hotel room, still sweaty, towels around their necks, before the bomb got dropped.

“Bullshit,” Eddie says, even though he can see it in Phil’s face. He scrambles to turn the television on. And it’s there, on the news, not just MTV either, it made CNN. 

He barely makes it to the bathroom before he throws up.

He has no idea how long he’s been sitting on the bathroom floor. People have been knocking but he ignores them. They probably need a piss. They’ll have to go to someone else’s room.

There’s another knock and he just wants to tell them to fuck off but they speak before he gets a chance.

“Eddie?” Jeff, talking to him so softly, which makes him feel worse. Because this isn’t just about Eddie, it affects them too. If this blows up— fuck, he doesn’t even want to think about it.

“Dude? Steve’s on the phone. I think you should come out and talk to him.”

And that’s the trigger, that’s the thing that gets him off the floor and unlocking the door. What he walks into isn’t a hotel room anymore, it’s a fucking war room. Phil is on another phone, the cable leading from the corridor outside the room. Their tour manager and publicist have their heads together at the desk. There are members of the road crew coming in and out of the room, dropping off food and drinks. When the door opens he can see security posted on the door.

Holy fuck. All because of him.

He takes the phone and turns to face the wall. “Steve?” His voice is rough from the adrenaline and stomach acid. He needs a drink.

“Hey,” says Steve in that oh-so-gentle voice, and God how he fucking needs him right now. “How are you holding up?”

“Been better,” he manages to force out. 

“Shit, sorry, stupid question.”

And Steve knows what he needs to hear before he can even form the words; Wayne is fine, Steve is fine, yes there are photographers and press outside his house, no there is no one outside of Wayne’s. 

“You’re all on flights out of Quebec this afternoon, okay?”

“To where?” They were supposed to be back in LA at the end of the week. But now… he has a hot stone in the pit of his stomach just thinking about it.

“Dublin via Toronto. You liked Ireland, right? And it’s quiet, it’ll be easy to hide there for a bit. Dustin has a friend-of-a-friend thing going on, but basically he’s got us a house in the middle of nowhere. We’ll be fine.”

“We?”

“I’m at LAX now. You’ll probably beat me there, you can hide out in the lounge and drink all their booze.” Eddie can hear the smile in his voice. He never stops marvelling at the way Steve just knows him, knows what he needs morning, noon and night. 

He clutches the phone, knuckles turning white. “I can’t do this without you.”

“You can. You won’t be alone, Phil is going to fly in with you, he’ll take care of everything. Just, tie your hair up and keep it under a cap. And take your rings off, okay? Keep your arms covered if you can.”

“Try not to look like Eddie Munson?”

There’s a pause at the end of the line before Steve lets out a soft sigh. “Yeah. Just for now though, right?”

“Right.” 

“I gotta go, my flight is boarding. I love you, okay?”

Eddie feels broken, the thought of hanging up like cutting his lifeline and he almost can’t bear to do it. “Okay. I love you too.”

“Always and forever?”

Eddie can hear the light teasing in Steve’s voice, and he smiles for the first time since Phil told him his life had been turned upside down again. Because that is what Steve does to him; blows away the tears and the clouds and the rain. Takes the open wounds of him and pulls them taught, stitching them together and making him whole again. 

“Always and forever,” he whispers back. 

He still feels sick, still has that putrid, adrenaline-filled rock in his gut just sitting there, but Steve’s voice reminds him of what they can’t take from him. They can take his band, his career, everything he worked for. But Steve will always be there for him. So many times in his life he’s questioned whether he is loved, like, truly loved. Even Wayne, who gave up so much for him, Eddie always worried that it came from a sense of obligation, even though deep down he knew better. But now, trapped in the middle of this maelstrom, the target of another witch hunt, he’s never been more sure of this: Steve Harrington loves him. And he loves him back in a way that should be scary but feels like oxygen, feels like life. And that’s what it comes down to, ultimately;  Steve is his life. 

And no shitty third rate magazine is ever taking that away from him.

****

Thanks to the wonderful @devondespresso for beta-ing!

[sorchathered]

His favorite girl

Pairing- Rhett Abbott x female reader

Summary- Rhett has always had you by his side and never thought of you as anything other than platonic, that is until someone else takes notice and he spirals as he realizes maybe it’s not as platonic as he thought.

Warnings- language, drinking, Rhett being stupid

————————————————————————-

Rhett wasn’t jealous.

He wasn’t.

But when you’d gotten asked out by one of the bull riders traveling for the circuit it had definitely made him feel a certain way. You’d been his best friend since junior high, the two of you started out on the rodeo circuit barrel racing and he’d always seen you as one of the boys. You’d dated over the years of course, but he’d never found any of them threatening, they never seemed to last long anyways. They weren’t worth your time and you weren’t the type to suffer fools so off they went before they Rhett even had a chance to really memorize their names. That worked just fine for him, he preferred his best girl over most people and hated to share. But he totally wasn’t into you, absolutely not, it was strictly platonic. Until it wasn’t.

He had done shitty on his last ride, and to add insult to injury instead of finding you waiting by the trailers you were leaned over the bars of the fence, hair falling out of your tight ponytail and body arched out with your ass on display in your tight Levi’s. Eyes sparkling as you laughed at what the generic looking bull rider was bullshitting your way, normally that shit didn’t work on you at all but this guy had you totally wrapped. You were flirting, pretty shamelessly and for some reason it brought a sour feeling up in Rhett’s throat and a sharp tug in his chest. He had this overwhelming need to knock this guy on his ass, fists clenched as he watched you hand over your phone to get his number.

You finally sauntered your way back over to where Rhett was leaned up against the medic trailer, eyebrow raised as you took in his surly expression. “Who pissed in your cornflakes Abbott? That last run wasn’t as bad as you think it was, let’s go get your grouchy ass a beer mkay?” You said with a grin as you pulled on his elbow and he was damn near powerless to keep up the act, you always seemed to pull him right out of his bad mood and pretty soon he’d forgotten what he was so pissed about in the first place.

Later that night at the pit bar he had once again gotten in over his head, flirting with his high school crush right in front of you after Perry suggested he get off his ass and shoot his shot. In his defense the guy from earlier had showed up at the bar and was turning you across the floor, that uncomfortable feeling settling in his bones as he tried to drown it out with tequila. Then to make matters worse he got into it with Trevor, and somehow lost Perry in the process. When he stalked back through the bar he was already a live wire, and seeing you pressed up against whatever in the hell his name was didn’t help either.

“If yer done eye fucking walk away Joe over here it’s time to go y/n, I ain’t got time to piss around tonight.” He said with his arms across his chest as he leaned into the booth you were sat in, and he knew the second it left his mouth he’d fucked up, the heat in your cheeks and fire in your eyes when you snapped your head towards him was enough to burn the whole bar down. “I’m sorry- what did you just say to me?” You snapped and he knew better than to say anything else, just threw his hands up and spun on his heel for the door. You’d either come home with him or find your own way, he just hoped it wouldn’t end with anyone in your bed. What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never given a shit about who you were seeing before, and he’d almost had a shot with Maria tonight, that was something he should’ve been putting effort into, not worrying about you fucking some random on a Sunday night. But it wouldn’t leave his head, and that ugly feeling kept tugging on his chest as he made his way to the truck, making it to the door before he heard the bar door fly open again, you in hot pursuit.

“What is your goddamn problem?!” You said as you pushed him up against the truck door, and he put his hands up ready for you to swing on him, it wouldn’t hurt but it certainly wouldn’t be his idea of a good time. “Are you so miserable that you can’t let anyone else be happy? I know you were pissed about the scores tonight but you have no right to talk to me that way and you fuckin’ know it.” You were vibrating with anger, rage bubbling up in you and all he could think of was his hands on your body.

It was like his dick was driving the car and his brain was asleep, he couldn’t seem to stop himself as he reached forward to yank you into his arms, spinning you to press against the truck door as he captured your lips with his. He knew it was wrong, he should’ve asked if he could kiss you first but you didn’t stop him, soft hands winding into the long hair at the nape of his neck and when you gasped he couldn’t stop himself from sliding his tongue into your mouth and licking into you. It was so good, molten heat pouring from you both as he pressed his thigh between your legs and watched as you pulled back with a moan, eyes glazed over as you blinked up at him, both of you shocked at what your bodies were doing.

“Shit, y/n do ya want me to stop? I can’t think like this- fuck you feel too good” he breathed out into the cold night and watched as you seemed to mull it over in your pretty head. Your head thunked back against the truck window as you continued to try and catch your breath, chest pressed so close to his he could feel your heart beating.

“Took you long enough”, you said with a grin as you pulled his mouth back down to yours, and suddenly it was all clicking into place for him. He’d felt this way for so much longer than he’d let himself admit, using buckle bunnies and his doomed crush on Maria as an excuse to keep him from admitting the truth. “Couldn’t stand it, that guy hand his hands all over ya and all I wanted to do was knock him out” he said with a hiss as you kissed down his jaw and nipped at the sensitive skin of his neck.

“Jealous is a good look on you, if I had known that’s all it took I would’ve tried it sooner” you peered up at him with mirth and giggled, he couldn’t quite see how you knew all along but if it got him here with you it didn’t much matter, you’d been so patient with him and he knew he didn’t deserve it.

“Gonna let me take you home sweet thing? I think we have some lost time to make up for.” He was desperate to have you in all the ways he’d only dreamed of, and he could tell you felt the same, neither of you could keep your hands off of each other any more and it was getting a little too heated for the dingy honky tonk parking lot.

“I’m all yours Rhett, always have been.”

He was quick to toss you over his shoulder and plop you into the passenger seat of the truck, looking over his shoulder as he caught the out of towner that had been hoping to take you home lighting up a cigarette outside. He grinned wide and with a wink nodded in the man’s direction, watching his irritation bubble up and huffed out a laugh. No one was taking you home but him ever again if he had anything to say about it, he’d tell your kids someday about how he nearly fumbled the most amazing woman because of his hubris and thank God every day for your patience with his stubborn ass. You’d been his from the very beginning, his favorite girl and love of his life.

————————————————————————-

[slowlydifferentbluebird]

Dreams come true - Aespa High School AU - Day two

Hello people, the new chapter of my new Au is here. Reader is slowly getting in confidence with the four girls more. Let me know what do you think, which one of them is convincing you more. And as always opinions and suggestions through comments and DMs are welcomed.

"Bro, second day and you already late?", you asked, walking so fast that it seemed you were training for the olympics. "It's not my fault, blame Johnny and Tae, they convinced me to stay up all night to play Fortnite", Mark justified, his lack of sleep giving him an hard time to follow you. "You're lucky I already got the street memorized", you sighed, gaining even more speed; at this point you were basically running to arrive school in time. Luckily even if you are lazy af, you managed to enter the building few minutes before the start of the lessons, your best friend basically dying on the floor, trying to catch his breath.

Your other best friend was eagerly waiting for you in class instead, in fact the moment you put your shoes inside, she jumped at your neck. "Bestieee, you made me worry, I was afraid you were going to skip school", she complained cutely, pouting at you. "Sorry, Aeri, this idiot arrived late at my apartment and he almost screwed me up. And don't worry about that, it's too early to skip classes...maybe in a week or so", you reassured her, earning a punch on the shoulder. "Well, at least if you really have to, bring me with you", she added, her pout melting in an happy smile. "Sorry to interrupt the moment, but if things keep going this way, I may have to change class soon: I can't stand this bitch acting lovey-dovey", Winter said, feigning to puke. "Shut up, Minjeong, it's not my fault if you have nobody who you can be affectionate to", Giselle rolled her eyes, clearly pissed by the tease of her friend. "Ah no? I don't? Too bad", Winter shrugged, before going towards her seat, but not before giving you a last quick look, and, damn, you felt your heart stopping for a second in front of her smirk.

Soon enough the lesson started, so you barely had the time to greet all your classmates. Of course it was not the case of your deskmate, Ning, who already seemed way more comfortable around you compared to the previous day. "Already late? You're such a bad student", Ning teased you in a whisper, giggling slightly, hidden by her books. "What are you talking about? I arrived before our teacher, so I'm still a model student", you replied, while taking notes of the argument miss Sunny was explaining in the meanwhile. You kinda got Ning already, she was on the surface all cute and shy, but deeply she was this lethal teasing machine. Aeri suggested during last night call to simply ignore her or tease her back and for now it was working. Ning bit her lower lip, almost holding back her next tease, but probably seeing you all focused on the lesson, she must have decided to let it go.

The chance for her was going to arrive really soon. During the mid morning break, Karina cautiosly got close to your desk, before placing a chocolate muffin on it. "Hey...good morning. We have not had the chance to talk at all today", she started the conversation, playing with the hem of her skirt shyly. "Yeah, you're right...is this for me?", you managed to overcome your brain freeze in front of her beauty. "Oh...yes. Giselle casually told me that you often don't have breakfast, so I bought this muffin for you...you know, as a way to thank you for becoming my friend", she admitted, becoming more red on her cheeks at every word. "Well, thank you, Jimin, I have a pit in my stomach right now, so perfect timing", your small joke made Karina chuckle, and it was your first time hearing someone so pretty having such a dorky laugh, but you loved the contrast.

"Look at our model student, already going behind the princess of the school", Ning immediately attacked once Karina went back to her place. You tried to ignore her but your eyeroll was not missed by the younger girl. "Seriously, you just needed a day to pick your target, you didn't even give a chance", she crossed her arms, ready to replicate yesterday scene, but actually her remark produced a different effect on you. "Why? Already interested on me? Such a bold way to confess", you replied, for once teasing her back. Your comeback surprised Ning who got speechless. "No, I...I...ehm, of course I'm not interested, you would like that situation, uh?", Ning tried to gain back the control of the situation, but she was defeated by her own tease. "No need to panic, I'll keer your crush on me secret. Oh, and don't worry, I'm still single...for now", you smirked, messing up her hair with your hand. She didn't expect you to play her like that, and the fact you managed to silence her right in time with the end of the break left her even more flustered. She needed to be more careful with her tease from now on, but she couldn't help but want wanting your attention for some reasons...

"Hey loser, wait for me", you heard a soft voice calling you from behind. You turned your head just to look at Minjeong skipping in your direction. "Why are you following me? You don't even know where I am going", you asked, intrigued by her behaviour. "Right? However I know where you are not going: the cafeteria; it's in the opposite direction", she tried to make you notice, pointing behind her without rotating her body at all. There was incredibly sassy yet cute in her, she really had a different aura compared to the other people of your class. "Yeah, I know, but I'm not hungry right now, so I wanted to explore this building", you explained waiting for her to finally reach you. "Oh yeah? You won't be already tired of your loved bestfriends, right?", why did everyone was so obsessed with teasing in class? Was it the trend of the moment or what? "No, not tired all, simply I ate a muffin before and now I'm full, but I know Aeri pretty well to know she would still force me to have enough protein to make me a bodybuilder", you explained kindly, making Winter nod in agreement. "Well, if you really want to explore, let me be your guide", she said, taking your wrist and starting to show you around.

"-and here we have the rooftop", the girl with bob says standing in front of a metal door. "Are we even allowed to come here?", you ask, raising an eyebrow. "Well...technically no, but I'm sure in this moment the custodian is in line for food as everyone else, so there won't be any problem", she said, taking out of her pocket a small key and insterting it in the door lock, before looking at you again and seeing your doubtful face. "But if you're too scared, we can skip this place", she added, leaning against the wall and waiting for your next move. "Scared? Girl, you don't know me well enough", you snorted, pushing the wall to go out. Honestly this was an unnecessary risk but there is no way someone can think you're a coward. Winter followed you in the open space, a satisfied smile on her face. "You're an interesting one, aren't you?", she kinda praised you, walking toward a bunch of chairs, probably left on this rooftop by who knows how much. "I have always to beg Gigi and the others to come here with me", she explained with a sad smile and yet a bright sparkle in their eyes. "You should give your number, we can have a lot of fun together", she casually added, amusement clearly visible in her expression.

Also the second day of school somehow passed. Lessons were not terrible at all and you were starting to get your classmates and how to get along with them, even the most unhinged. You were putting your stuff in your backpack, when you saw Mark waving hands from the other side of the room. "Where are you going, man?", you asked confused, placing the backpack on just one shoulder, as usual. "Sorry, bestie, today I feel too tired, I need to go to sleep as soon as I can", he explained, standing on the threshold of the door. "But you have spent all the day napping instead of following", you protested, facepalming. "Yeah, but it's not the same as resting on my bed, you know", he justified, stretching and yawning. "Also, you already know the way perfectly, and it's not like I'm letting you go alone anyway", he added, disappearing from your sight, letting you even more confused. "Who are you talking about?", you shouted behind him, and the answer appeared, grabbing your arm tightly. "He's talking about me, dummy!", she exclaimed, snuggling againts your shoulder.

"...I can't believe they really made My Hero Academia end in that way!", Giselle said, wiping her laugh tears away. "For real, and I thought Attack on Titan had the worst ending", you replied, snickering loudly. The two of you walked with your arms linked, talking about some of the manga you were reading those days; it's a costum you two developed since the first days of your friendship and it was refreshing to be able to do it finally face to face. Slowly you arrived in front of the building where your apartment was. "So here we are...", Aeri mumbled, looking down at her feet; you could tell from her tone and body language that she didn't want to let you go already. "Hey Aeri...maybe do you want to...come inside?", you proposed, massaging your neck, a bit embarassed. Aeri was your best friend and you wanted to spend more time with her too, but she was still a really pretty girl and that would have been the first time you two were alone somehwere. "Really? Oh my God, yeah, I was hoping you would have asked me", she cheered, not losing yet another chance to squeeze you in a warm embrace.

"Finally I can see the inside of your cave, yesterday you were able to escape, but today you're all mine", she joked, admiring the really plain interior of your house."Yeah, it's not like there is much too see, I moved here few days before school started", you explained, removing your backpack and launching it on a random place of your small living room. "I can tell, this room is so anonymous that it seems fake", she made you notice, making you shrug, it was not your fault for school had no taste in interior design. "You know what? I will help you to give to this house a touch of style", she announced, nodding, sure of her decision. "I'm on board, as long it's my style and not yours", you teased her, obtaining a middle finger from your best friend. "Thank you for tha...hey, where are you going?", you asked, seeing her going toward the home door. "I told you, I'm going to help to decorate this place, and I'm starting from now. Be ready to work hard tomorrow after school", she told you, her mind already planning on what changement to do. You opened the door for her. "Thank you for letting me come inside, see you tomorrow, bestie", she said, before quickly pecking at your cheek and going on her way, ready to go who knows where. After she was gone, you plopped once more on your couch, closing your eyes and living through your memory the day that has just passed: Ning, Jimin, Minjeong, Aeri...everyone of them made you felt something different. You were not used to feel so much stuff where you lived, but honestly you couldn't wait to experience even more.

[smooth-perceval]

Angsty lando pleaseeeeee

This is my first rq omg, sorry it was rushed I have like 7 drafts and I’m trying to clear them out 🥲🫶🏼❤️

Surrender

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader was only trying to console Lando, Lando throws a hissy fit- and some truths are spilled. The ‘argument’ being quickly extinguished.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, very annoyed reader+Lando, fluff ending

Key: Y/N (Your Name) Y/L/N (your last name)

Word count: 1,397

A/N: I cannot see Lando being mean- so it was kinda weird to write 😂 Sarcastic asf? Yes! Mean- it seems so odd but I hope I done okay ❤️

Wether Lando was annoyed or not- I shouldn’t have recieved the back end of it.

I only asked a simple “you okay?” And I got back. “Just leave me the fuck alone.” Before storming back over to the car hopping back in and out on track.

Debating wether to go back to the drivers room or stay - I finally decided that going back to the drivers room was my best option. I felt embarrassed- after 4 people asked me if I was okay, I felt to upset and awkward to be around them.

My face was Ferrari red- no joke, shuffling my way back to the drivers room, I sat in pure silence. Did I really say anything bad? Did I actually annoy him and it wasn’t the car? Questioning my intentions for the next 10 minutes or so is all I did. Before I came to the perfect idea and decided to just leave in general, go back to the hotel and dwell on it all there.

While I had the chance to run I did. Straight back to our hotel and straight into the shower, a day washed away once again. I made quick effort to change into a simple shorts pyjama set, lounging out on the small sofa they had in the room.

—

My phone re-woke me. Grabbing ahold and answering, only to realise who it was when the angry voice spoke down the line.

“Where the hell are you?!”

“Back at the hotel?”

“I’ve looked everywhere for you! Nobody knew! You didn’t tell me!!” Rubbing my eyes, a yawn escaping me. I tutted at him climbing off the sofa and into the bed.

“I fell asleep and forgot to message sorry-”

“I’m nearly at the hotel.” And with that he hung up, here I anxiously sat. I get the annoyance but he was the reason I left in the first place.

Sighing I mentally prepared myself for the lecture I was about to withstand. And truthfully I couldn’t be asked for it.

“Y/N.” The door unlocked and he barged in.

“Seriously- what the hell is going on with you? I needed you at the pits today.” Frowning he stormed off into the bathroom.

“Errr- No, you told me to ‘leave you the fuck alone’ so I did.” Leaning over the bed I put my phone on charge.

“Just cause I said it, didn’t mean I meant it.” Tutting I hear him switch on the shower waiting around for it to warm up, he walked back out facing me.

“Wether you meant it or not Lando. I didn’t deserve it.”

“Well who else am I supposed to let my anger out on.” Throwing his hands up in the air like it’s the most problematic thing in his life at the moment.

“You can vent to me any day- you know that. But I won’t take rudeness.”

“I wasn’t fucking rude!” Shaking his head laughing to himself he went back into the bathroom slamming the door.

“There you go again. Just because your cars shit! Don’t take it out on me.” Laying back on the bed with a groan I stared up at the ceiling.

What a dick.

“My car is not shit-” glancing over at him now standing back outside the bathroom door, he looked so pissed off- but why is it okay for him to say stuff and not me.

“Did I touch a nerve?”

“What made you even bring that up? We wasn’t talking about that.”

“The whole reason for your sour mood is that car.”

“Can’t a guy just have a bad day.” Pulling his hoodie off throwing it on the floor.

“There’s a bad day and then a bad weekend. And you’ve been an asshole to me this whole weekend. If it’s not the car then what? Is it me?” Raising my eyebrows at him I sat on the edge of the bed.

“Your talking stupid again.” And once again he stormed into the bathroom, stripping down to his underwear.

“Then what is it?- I’m not a mind-reader Lando! I can’t help unless you tell me what’s pissed you off.”

“Your not listening! Nothing has pissed me off, fucking hell.” I could’ve got whiplash the amount of times he has stormed in and out that bathroom.

The hot and cold was pissing me off- and before I knew it, all the calmness washed away from me- and all the built up annoyance and anger reeled out.

“You are so frustrating- do you understand that.” Furrowing my brows I stood up, gesturing my hands in front of me.

“One minute it’s ‘can’t a guy have a bad day’ then it’s ‘I’m not pissed off’ or it’s ‘I needed you in the garage today’ but your not pissed off right? So why did you need me. Do you understand how fucking childish your being.” Chest rising and falling, we both stared at each other in silence.

“And while I’m getting everything off my chest for once- your car is shit! Man up and tell the team, don’t drive a shit car and then get annoyed at me for asking a simple question. I didn’t build the stupid car, I don’t drive it- I have no involvement!” Turning around grabbing a pillow off the bed I stomped towards the sofa. “Stupid fucking thing it is.” Mumbling to myself while shaking my head.

“Because I have human decency, I’ll sleep on the sofa. But don’t you dare speak to me unless your going to apologise for being a absolute prick.” Throwing the pillow down on the sofa, I went to the wardrobe pulling out the spare duvet, throwing that on the sofa also.

“What- why you sleeping on the sofa…”

“That doesn’t sound like an apology.” With a loud huff he disappeared once again.

When I turned around Lando had retreated back to the bathroom. It’s strange, lecturing someone tires you out, I flopped back onto the sofa, sighing to myself. Was I too harsh…? Yeah- maybe I should apologise…

Before I even thought about what to say I had dozed back off again, not even wanting to face Lando truthfully right now, I’ll only say more things I don’t mean.

—

“Baby…” rocking me gently, I was woken from my slumber. It was pitch black, I just about made out Lando’s face.

“You awake…?” Even though it was just us two, he still whispered. Humming in response, I rolled over facing the back of the sofa.

“I’m sorry…” pressing a delicate kiss to my shoulder, rubbing it gently, he then leant his head against my back. “I’m sorry for taking my anger out on you… your right about absolutely everything.” Followed by another soft kiss to my shoulder.

“Even about the car being shit??…” smiling to myself, I turned back over slowly, wrapping an arm around his neck, playing with the back of his hair.

“That’s the reason I’m so annoyed-” slowly he squeezed himself on the sofa, pulling me half on-top of him. “Your right- I should man up and tell them, not just keep allowing them to fuck up…” brushing my hand over his cheek, I laid my head on his shoulder listening to him vent.

“I just have had enough… I’ve had enough of feeling like a failure every race- because the cars so terrible…” sighing, he fiddled with my hand. “I love you- and that scares me…” smiling wide, I moved his head turning it towards me.

“You love me?”

“So fucking much.” Pulling him in slowly, I placed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Your not a failure, your absolutely wonderful…” a small smile crept on his face at my compliment.

“Your going to tell them what you really think about that car, your also going to give it your all the rest of this season, because you don’t give up.”

“Your also going to start understanding, I’m on your side always… no matter what, I’m battling from your corner. Because I love you, always have and always will.”

Smiling at me, he pulled me down slowly brushing his lips against mine, “does this mean I get some lovin’?” Laughing, I smacked his chest climbing over him standing up.

“You really are lucky I love you.”

“I know I bless myself everyday.” Standing up he placed his hands on my waist kissing me again.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

Masterlist

[thegnomelord]

I desperately need MORE background on how hound became the vicious beast (that I love just the way he is) and how Makarov tamed him!

Please

It's kinda hard to come up with background when I literally made hound on the fly lol, I didn't plan to give him any backstory and that blurb about being betrayed by price just came at the last moment.

But here's my current ideas:

CW:SFW ish HUGE SPOILERS for Hound's backstory (not cannon yet but the major themes), angst, discussion of torture, conditioning, SA, and Hound just having a very bad time.

Hound already had behavioural/aggression problems when he joined the military (the reasons for which are left open for the reader to imagine). Price pissed off some top brass officer and got Hound dumped on him as punishment and because no one else wanted Hound. But Price figured out that all Hound needed was a firm hand from someone he could respect, and with Hound, respect was a hard thing to earn. But Price earned it and in turn got himself the most loyal Sargent he'd ever seen.

Now for the angsty Makarov bit.

Hound was loyal as hell to Price when he thought he would be saved. It took Makarov like a solid year just to make small dents in Hound's will. Since Hound didn't know Russian, he'd get annoyed at the commands Makarov used, leading to more beatings. This was around the time Makarov started using shock collars and really leaned into turning Hound into his dog.

The whole conditioning thing was similar to how cult indoctrination works, Makarov made himself look like the only 'safe' source of comfort Hound had. He especially liked making Hound fight in a pit, be it putting him against actual dogs, people trying to join Konni, or other Konni members, with the prize being that whichever soldier won would get to use Hound however they wanted. And while Hound may be big (hc Hound around Konig's hight/whatever the max height for being in the army is), being regularly beaten, starved and sleep deprived meant he lost more fights against the soldiers than he won.

This made it easy for Makarov to effectively 'save' Hound, rough orders making his soldiers stop, giving Hound soft touches and a low soothing voice to listen to while he lay on the floor covered in blood, gore, cum, and god knows what else, just trying to recover. And Hound's brain hated it, was disgusted by the touch, but his body craved any form of comfort it could get regardless who it came from.

The real conditioning began when after a year in captivity the files for Hound's mission were released, and had been rewritten to make him K.I.A. and a traitor. And they were official documents too (Makarov had eyes and ears everywhere, including the C.I.A). Makarov had been putting the idea that Price had betrayed Hound for a while, so those docs just confirmed it.

Hound became a lot more anger prone and aggressive after the betrayal, going back to his old ways before Price became his CO, something Makarov played into.

Violence became both a coping mechanism and a way to survive; the more violently he fought and killed in the fighting ring, the better the rewards he would get (more food, more rest, more of Makarov's affection to distract him from what was happening), the stronger he would get and the more his body would recover, the more violently he could fight. Leading to a type of cycle where physically getting healthier turned him more violent.

Makarov was very keen on training Hound, taking away the small comforts as quickly as he gave them if Hound stepped one foot out of line, steadily conditioning him to be eager for his touch, his praise, his affection, to want to pleasure him and silence the parts of Hound's brain that begged him to stop.

In six months or so, Hound was already kneeling at Makarov's feet, head tilted back so Makarov could cut his initials into Hound's throat, desperate to have a collar wrapped around his neck, to belong to someone who wouldn't betray him like Price did.

And in another six, Hound was utterly devoted to Makarov, carrying out any orders given with extreme precision and violence all in the hopes of just getting a scrap of his attention.

Or something like that. The thing I like about reboot Makarov is how charismatic and tactical he is in comparison to the unhinged Makarov from the old series. This one gives me like cult leader vibes, which is why I think he would have been able to condition hound into being his. Makarov values loyalty and saw how loyal hound was to Price, so sought to have the same.

[bestpigeon]

THE FALLEN ONE

LUCIFER X MALE READER

You, an angel, betrayed heaven and refused to kill demons. How will this go?

Words- 1.4k

Warnings- swearing, gore, fighting, gay

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It was extermination day. How exciting.  The truth is, i genrally despise extermination day. We get sent down to hell to kill souls. yeah, theyre evil and in the pits of hell for a reasom. however i dont believe that its the right thing to do. i mean, its still souls were killing. They dont deserve death. Were not very angelic if were killing souls? For what, so they wont revolt? They will anyways.

Adam was giving us a pep talk. I was on the front lines since im a worthy soldier. Adam was talking, shouting, about Vaggie. Vaggie betrayed us ages ago, Lutes long life plan is to kill her and rip out her other eyes or something. I sniker at the thought and i get a large death stare from Lute. Adam then shouts something that i didnt care enough to listen and everyone started charging through the portal and into hell. I fly down into the dome that some percular demon had created. It was all green and weird.

I land and look at the other angels either killing canibals, or getting killed themself. i scurry into a corner and hide near some broken rubble. I suddenly hear a chuckle. i whip my head in panic to.. shit, Lute.

"well well well. Really thought youd slack and get away with it?! this isnt the first time ive.. caught you avoiding battle." she says as she chuckles at my patheticness.

I roll my eyes and stand up. I flap my beautiful and delicate white angelic wings behind me. I turn my mask to face Lute.

"what? all to join in on killing souls? They arent innocent, yeah, but.. they dont deserve this-" i say before getting lunged at. Lute jumps ontop of me and we tumble backwards. I groan in agony and annoyance

"your so fucking pathetic. how about you join Vaggie? You and that bitch can rot down here. Worthless fu-" she says as she grits her teeth. I interup her by thrusting her off my lap and kicking her aggressivly with my legs. I stand up and point my spear at her.

"i am NOT going to join in with this shit anymore! you will not control me like the freak you are" I say as i squint my eyes under my mask. I didnt want to be controlled like a peasent, a doll, a puppet. Not anymore.

She laughs and stand up clearly pissed. She glares at me before thrusting her spear near my stomach. Like the trained angel fighter i am, i quickly dodge it easily. We fight back and back for a while. Both throwing some degrading. Some Lunges, spear attacks, grunting later, Lute has me pinned to the floor with a spear aimed at my head. I look up at her with nothing but hate and anger.

"Fucking kill me- Just like you did to Vag-" I say in anger, before getting interupted with a spear being jabbed into my leg. I scream out in pain as the angelic spear peirces the flesh on my leg.

"Yeah, us angels kill pathetic souls like you. People who dont deserve life, or the honourous position your in" She says as she lifts her spear up, prepaired to finish me off, finally. Then, out of the blue, Lute gets blasted with angelic power. I flinch and cover my face in worry. It was another angel, so i thought. Until i looked up and saw the King of hell himself. I leaned on the floor on my elbows before quickly pulling myself backwards. It was..over? All the angels were leaving, going back to heaven, including Lute.

Lucifer approaches me and knees beside me, he glares at my with symapthy. My mask was half cracked, you could see half of my face. "you alright kid?" he says as i looks down at my legs.

"um..yeah, im alright apart from the yknow, big slash in my leg-" I say before i clear my throat.

"why did you help me? Im an angelic warrior, im on the other side..?" I say confused as i cock up an eyebrow. Lucifer chuckles and smiles warmly. I thought it was a big perculiar, i mean demons being nice?

"I couldnt help but overhear your conversation while fighting Adam, by the way i absolutly destroyed Adam- anyways, your not like the other angels." He says as adjusts his beautiful white and red wings behind him. Though his wings were like mine, they still were different. More majestic i should say.

"mh..yeah well i dont agree with the extermination.. yknow? killing innocent- well not innocent, but killing souls in genral.. its, not something us angels should do." I say, as i spoke i kept eye contact the whole time. I could see the visible change in Lucifers expression. It seemed to soften, he clearly shared the same opinions as me.

"right, exactly the reason i saved you. You think like a real angel. well, now your in hell, but..better then death, right?" I coudnt help but notice he started to move his arms, one around my lefs anad the other around my back. He, bridal style, picked me up and held me in his arms. I gasp and i tense slightly. I glare up at him and he smiles at me before bringing me to the other demons.

He puts his hand on my leg and heals it, he closes his eyes as he does so. I couldnt help but realise how pretty he was. I blush at the thought before he puts my down on the floor. I smile when i realise my leg was healed finally.

"thank you" I say quietly. I see a collection of other demons looking at me weirdly, i dont blame them, im meant to be trying to kill them afterall. I smile awkwardly before Lucifer wraps his arm around my neck and pulls my to the group of demons. Some blonde demon approached me, her name was Charlie, Lucifers daughter.

"hey..? dad why is there an angel here?" she questions as she steps a step infront of me and twists her head. I look at her awkwardly and i cant help but notice vaggies peircing eyes stare aggressivly at me.

"um..im joining you? i guess? i betrayed the angels. Its just..not right to kill souls without reason." I say, i see Charlies face light up slightly. I feel Lucifers hands go onto my shoudlers.

"See Char Char! Hes on our side." He says i blush slightly when he gets really close, he leaned his head near my shoulder. Vaggies feirce appearence calmed slightly, though it was clear shes still on edge.

"oh! well hi! Its nice to meet you! Its amazing when we have other members of the Hazbin Hotel!" She says before she hugs me. I gasp when she lunges towards me and i flinch, my eyebrows lift in confusion but i hugged back soon as later. I didnt think kind souls existed in hell, maybe it isnt that bad?

I smile awkwardly. "Thank you- i appriciate it" I say as Charlie steps back and smiles at Vaggie. I notice the other demons were just doing whatever, mainly chatting and laughing together. I cant help but smile. Demons arnt that bad?

I feel the hands on my shoulders move and turn me around. I glare down at Lucifer, huh, didnt know he was that short.

"Are you all healed?" He says as he touches my waist and stomach to check if i was okay. I blush slighty and chuckle awkwardly. "yeah- yeah im fine your majesty"

"please, its Lucifer, and im glad your alright." He says as he smiles warmly at me, i return the smile.

"They might take a while, but they should warm up. Angels dont do well round here, but they will adjust." He says as he smiles. His hands were still on my shoulders.

"alright, im thankful still, thanks for helping me. Lute would have killed back there." I say smiling at him. He chuckles before walking towards his daughter.

I watch as he leaves. My thoughs are bombarded with all different things. Am i in the Hazbin hotel now? Hell can be nice? Well somewhat, i mean, i did nearly die down here.

Maybe, just maybe hell isn't too bad? My thoughts get interrupted by a huge explosion behind me, i turn to see a few demons ripping an angels wings to death. I squint in disgust, realising i should get us to that. Other than that, this couldn't be that bad.. I might even like it here.

[angellesword]

BAGGAGE | JJK (09)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, cursing, blood, stabbing, loan sharks, OC cusses excessively so watch out.

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

←Previous Chapter (08) | Next Chapter (10) →

****

Present, 2023:

Despite your trickling sweat and limping legs after a passionate night with your boyfriend, you still ran like crazy until you reached Jungkook's apartment. It was a feat to reach the bastard's place, with you nearly losing your mind as you bugged the nurses to tell you where the emergency team rescued Jungkook the day he got stabbed. You thought the nurses would ignore you. Surprisingly, they were adamant about telling you all the information about Jungkook. They even said bringing him back to the hospital would be better.

"He isn't well," the nurse shook her head in disappointment. "He insisted on leaving. We can't do anything since you have already paid his bill in full."

Paying was never an issue for you, but you were starting to regret taking care of Jungkook's medical bill as it only gave him the means to escape. But there was no point in dwelling, so you squared your shoulders, thanking the nurse before you left the hospital to go straight to Jungkook's apartment.

For some reason, you felt a nagging feeling at the pit of your stomach. You didn't give yourself time to breathe, focusing your energy on running. Jungkook's neighborhood was cramped and seemed unsafe. Thugs greedily eyed your accessories as if they were ready to rip them off your body at any second.

The walls were decorated with explicit graffiti, too. It didn't help that the alleys smelled like piss. Everything in this place reminded you of your childhood home. You remembered Jungkook banging his little fists on the small room Jisoo rented for the two of you. Jungkook constantly pestered your peace at home.

Twenty-five years later, you were the one banging on Jungkook's apartment door. Unfortunately, no one answered, causing your breathing to quicken and your posture to hunch. You were a second away from breaking the door when it abruptly opened.

Twenty-five years ago, you opened the door for Jungkook, holding cookies and other sweet treats Jisoo worked hard to get.

Twenty-five years later, Jungkook opened the door for you, holding a knife as if he were ready to go for the kill.

You jolted, stepping back and looking at your former best friend with wide eyes.

Jungkook was startled, too. He immediately dropped the knife to the floor when he recognized it was you banging on your door.

Time seemed to stop after that. Jungkook opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He couldn't breathe—literally—you were squeezing him into your chest so tightly.

"You fucking bastard." Your knees buckled. Your tone was sharp, but there was no bite in it. You hugged Jungkook closer. "You lied to me again."

Jungkook gulped, then whispered your name, hands hovering over your side. If God existed, He would know how much Jungkook ached to return your embrace. He wanted it so badly that it hurt. He couldn't breathe he couldn't breathe he couldn'tbreathehecouldn'tbreathe—

You flopped down to the ground, pulling him down with you. Jungkook didn't even protest, trusting you to cradle the back of his head and hug him more.

You did precisely that.

You gripped Jungkook's hair, your hands roughly kneading his nape.

You stuttered a breath, feeling frustration, fear, and fury dominating your body.

"You are the target." You figured it out, chest heavy. "He really meant to kill you. Why."

Why? You asked. It made Jungkook want to laugh. Why? You asked as if answering that was no trouble. Why? You asked while staring deep into Jungkook's eyes. Your eyes were deep and desperate, as if it would kill you if Jungkook breathed one word of a lie.

Jungkook inhaled sharply, feeling as if all air in the room filled his lungs until they burned.

He still couldn't breathe.

"I—" Jungkook clamped his eyes shut. He didn't know how to continue or tell you he lied because he knew you were stubborn. You would pursue the matter relentlessly, and that was not safe. Jungkook never really feared for his own life but God. He couldn't bear it if Lee Sung also put a target on your back.

"I'm sorry." Jungkook could only offer an apology--it was the one thing you needed to confirm that your conjecture was correct. Your brain short-circuited, anger set aside as fear for Jungkook's life engulfed you. You pushed Jungkook's chest away and stood up.

Your judgment was clouded. You barged into Jungkook's sleeping area, eyes landing on the timeworn wooden closet. 

Clothes. You thought as you opened his closet. I need to pack his clothes and get him out of here.

But there were barely any clothes in the closet. Your face morphed into disbelief. You scanned the inside of the closet with your eyes. 

One.

Two.

Three.

Jungkook had three bacon-collared shirts and two tattered jeans. You gnashed your teeth together.  How Jungkook went from having a walking closet a hundred times bigger than his current apartment to having only three shirts and two pants was beyond you.

It was so preposterous that you couldn't stomach it—

Jungkook suddenly called your name.

—and you also refused to look at Jungkook when he called for you. 

You trudged back to Jungkook's kitchen. Your jaw ticked as you mindlessly opened the refrigerator. You didn't know what you were expecting, but it clearly wasn't a foul smell that made your stomach turn upside down.

The refrigerator was not working. It wasn't even plugged.

You slammed the door shut, sick of the pungent smell, though you still had the energy to rummage through the cupboard. Your heart dropped every time you opened one of the kitchen cabinet doors, only to be welcomed by cobwebs.

Your lips twisted, still consumed by disbelief but now mixed with distress. You couldn't accept that Jungkook's kitchenware was just a used paper cup, a plastic cutlery, and one bowl with the words "God is our savior" engraved.

Jungkook called your name again.

This time, you looked—glared at him. He was leaning against the wall, gently cupping his stomach, which began to hurt after you hugged and pulled him down the floor earlier.

"Why are you living like this." You rubbed your nape, your breathing rapid. You were the only one who knew how painful this situation was. You let your anger toward Jungkook bubble up over the past years, ensuring that it wasn't forgotten by constantly replaying his betrayal in your mind.

But it was a different feeling now that you could see Jungkook suffering. It was not fair. You refused to get angry at a man who didn't even seem alive. Because how? How else would Jungkook feel your indignation when his heart was hollow and unaccepting of any emotion?

You wanted Jungkook to burn, hurt, and cry, but not like this—not from anyone else but solely because of you. Jungkook hurt you, so you were the only one qualified to hurt him back. 

"Why." Your eyes were dark, tears pricking, but you held them back. You didn't want to cry for Jungkook. "You never answered me, Jeon. I wanted to know. What the fuck have you been doing these past years?"

You cut off all connection with Jungkook when he betrayed you, but if you wanted, you could find answers to your questions simply by asking Lee Sung to investigate Jungkook. You could also muster the courage to finally look up Jungkook's name online. However, you dismissed the idea because, after all this time, you still hoped Jungkook would tell you the truth.

A fool, that's what you are.

"Tell me." You were an insistent fool. "What happened? Where is your precious Jimin-hyung? Did you betray him like what you did to me?"

Your tone was biting. The corner of your lips quirked up. "Or was it the other way around? You've always looked up to him, have you not? Did he break your heart, huh, fucking piece of shit—!!"

You were pressed against the disgusting refrigerator, your heart going wild when you felt Jungkook's ragged breathing on the crook of your neck.

"Stop," Jungkook begged, though it sounded like a threat. You could almost feel Jungkook's sharp teeth sinking into the side of your neck. Jungkook wanted to bite and fight you, too. "Don't talk about him. Don't mention his name. You're not..."

Jungkook stopped himself, but the damage had been done. You're not worth it was what he wanted to say. No one else is, was what he would've said last.

You scoffed. You pushed Jungkook away from you, and then you fixed your collar before glaring at him. It was a pretentious, angry look, though. In reality, you have long accepted this aspect of life. Nothing could ever compare to one Park Jimin. Jungkook would always defend him.

 But Jungkook called your name again, seemingly to snap back to reality. It was like the good old days—back when you would say something about Jimin that angered Jungkook and would cause you to not talk to each other for a while until one of you caved.

It was usually Jungkook—as you never really said anything rude to Jimin, not after your fight during your college graduation. However, there were times you couldn't help but subtly roll your eyes or comment about a 'different' or 'hypothetical' scenario that, when one looked at it, was similar to what Bighit was going through.

You claimed to trust Jungkook, but sometimes, your bluntness prevailed. It was hard to discern if you did so out of fury, jealousy, or concern. But one thing was clear: everything that came out of your mouth now was aimed at hurting Jungkook.

"Jisoo-unnie is dead," you said. A payback to Jungkook's claim of you not being worthy to utter Jimin's name. You smirked when you saw him freeze on his spot. However, there was also a faint ache in your chest.

You pushed through.

"If you don't want to tell me what happened to you and Jimin, fine. I don't fucking care about you, anyway." You spat. A lie. Your mind supplied. Don't do this. Don't treat him the way you treated your Jisoo-unnie. You're gonna regret it.

You ignored the voice in your head. "But I won't let you have your peace. The past years have been torture for me, you piece of garbage. It's all your fucking fault."

The loud slam of fists on the countertop startled Jungkook. Your knuckles hurt, but you couldn't care less. You snarled at your former best friend, any semblance of hope gone. Jungkook would never trust you the way he trusted Jisoo and Jimin.

"How dare you and Jisoo betray me and leave me an unwanted souvenir!?"

No. The voice in your head begged. Don't use Soobin to hurt Jungkook. Please. It's not worth it.

Jungkook had the decency to think the same way, too. He sucked in a deep breath. "Jisoo..." He whispered, eyes lowering as if ashamed to utter her name.

"When did she pass?" Jungkook shook his head as if it didn't matter. He changed his question. "Cancer...did it take her away?"

There was no semblance of grief in Jungkook's face or tone. You weren't sure if that was a good thing. All you knew was everything caused you pain.

"You know." You swallowed thickly, feeling the sting of betrayal. "You knew she was sick even before I did."

Guilty, that's what Jungkook was.

Your head felt like it was spinning. You were nauseated. "You two are so unfair."

The confrontation between you, Jungkook, and Jisoo never happened before as you flew all the way to Europe without looking back. Once, you told Jisoo you'd chase her when she dared to die, but now you were the one running.

Jisoo chased you in France and left you with a child. All you knew before was to study and toxically love your sister and best friend. But their betrayal forced you to your limit, and now you were tired. You didn't want to run anymore.

You were like a ticking bomb that inevitably exploded, and Jungkook was your casualty.

"She never planned to tell me she was sick, but guess fucking what?" Your chest heaved. It's too much. "I was the one who took care of her! You weren't there when she was acting like a dumb lunatic! Vomiting blood and shit!"

The last few weeks of Jisoo were specifically hard for you; you needed to set aside your hurt and be there for your sister.

Sometimes, you still cry about it. Professor Verlaine witnessed your distress and how it affected your studies. Admittedly, you were removed from the scholarship program as you continuously missed your classes, especially when Soobin came into this world.

Your classmates were right, though. You were Verlaine's favorite—your professor helped you find a sponsor to continue your PhD. Though you did not need it, it was still a great help since raising a kid in France was expensive. At the same time, Verlaine helped you get into therapy.

You very much needed that, disregarding all stigma about going to therapy because you needed to be the adult Soobin would look up to.

Soobin needed you like how the young you needed Jisoo. But as mentioned, it was not easy.

You loved Soobin; you really did. But sometimes, you looked at Soobin and were suddenly reminded of his parents' betrayal. You hated yourself for a while, crying because, logically, you knew it wasn't Soobin's fault. It was Jisoo's—but even blaming her was tough.

You abhorred Jisoo, but your heart bled for her. You felt for her but also wanted to claw her eyes out. You wanted her to die, but not really.

You mourned your sister, but the guilt you felt for grieving her consumed you. At some point, you felt as if you were going crazy; that was until you confided with your therapist.

"That's the thing about getting hurt." Your therapist explained. "It's complex. You are allowed to feel bad for someone who has hurt you and still be angry with them. It's not mutually exclusive. It only means you have a big heart, and your anger is protecting you as it knows your boundaries are crossed."

But I don't want to have a big heart. You wanted to tell your therapist, yet you kept your mouth shut and bottled up the unfairness of this world.

Jisoo hurt you, but here you were, feeling guilty for not forgiving your sister before she died. You were constantly being haunted by her exhausted eyes and blood-stained mouth.

Jisoo hurt you, but she was at peace while you were down the abyss. On top of this, you had Jungkook to deal with.

It was not fair.

"I hate you." Your voice cracked when you stared Jungkook in the eyes. "You're just like Jisoo. You're putting me in a tight position again."

You looked disgustingly at Jungkook's home. "How can you live like this? Why would you willingly put yourself in this position? You have a kid, Jungkook. I am telling you now. Soobin is your biological son. You slept with my sister, in case you forgot."

"I did not." Jungkook response came almost automatically. His tone was firm and this was the only time he didn't lower his eyes despite his embarrassment. He couldn't forget—didn't dare forget. Sleeping with Jisoo was something he willingly did, but it was a perpetual and excruciating reminder of what he had done to you.

"You're a self-aware bastard, aren't you?" your nostrils flared, your fist shaking. "Why? Was it that good that you can't forget it—"

"No." Jungkook cut you off. "Please. Don't. Your sister is already dead."

Son of a bitch--

"Is that supposed to stop me from mocking the two of you?" You scoffed.

No. Jungkook wanted to say but didn't. But you're only hurting yourself by saying that.

It was quite obvious. You were predictable like that. You would say hurtful things, but they were a double-edged sword. It would hurt you, too. Unfortunately, you didn't care anymore.

You needed to give Jungkook an ultimatum.

You held your head high.

"You had your fun, Jeon." You had your fun when you slept with my sister—when you dropped out of college and ventured with Jimin. It was time you faced the consequences of your actions.

You and Jungkook were best friends for a reason. After all this time, you two knew what was running in your minds.

Jungkook sucked in a breath, fingers trembling.

"You know what to do," was the only thing you said, but Jungkook understood your point. You turned your back on him, leaving him no chance to rebut; the desperation you felt earlier was washed away by pain. 

The ball was once again in Jungkook's court, and you proved this when you said, "1-1 Royal Heights Boulevard, Songdo International City, Incheon 22006."

Then you left, leaving Jungkook torn and out of his mind.

****

A/N: It's weird to write a chapter in one sitting...it feels like I'm missing something...I don't know. What do we think about this chapter? See you later. My eyes hurt (downside of lasik sighhhh)

←Previous Chapter (08) | Next Chapter (10) →

[juleswritesstuff]

Girl got a gun

What happens when a particularly dangerous situation forces you to face your feelings for the man that was only supposed to be your arranged husband?

MafiaBoss!RegulusBlack x MafiaBoss!Reader

Warnings: blood, slightly descriptive murder, gun violence.

Nothing is really described in too much detail, but I thought best to put some warnings anyway. Enjoy 💗

Clink.

Clink.

Clink.

That was the only noise resonating in the air. The heels of your shoes making contact with the marble floor of your house. 

Your shoulders slouched just the tiniest bit as you stepped foot in the living room.

You were tired of dealing with stupid men all day.

Men that didn’t recognize your position in the business. 

‘I'm really sorry Mrs Black, but we were told that your husband would've been the one hosting the meeting.’

‘Well, it’s my properties we are discussing here. And Mr Black was busy’

‘But Mrs Black-’

‘It’s Miss Y/l/n, Mr Malfoy. I didn't take my husband's name, and I never will.’ you said coldly.

Silence fell in the room.

‘It doesn’t matter Miss, you’re part of the Black family now, therefore all your belongings are now in the hands of Mr Black’

You were starting to get pissed, your expression hard.

You took out your phone with a sigh and started dialing a number that became very familiar in the span of the past two years.

Behind you James and Remus exchanged a knowing glance. 

They had been with you for the past seven years and they knew you like the back of their hand.

They knew shit was about to go down.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

‘Yes, darling ?’

That voice made everyone freeze, sitting straight like he was there with them. 

Their eyes now held a veil of worry and fear.

The corners of your mouth perked up a little, but, at the same time, a feeling of anger settled in the pit of your stomach. 

Why couldn’t they respect you like they respected your husband ?

You quickly let the feeling fade, it wasn’t the time.

‘Sorry to bother, Regulus dear. These gentlemen here are asking why you’re not the one hosting the meeting. They’re saying that since I'm married to you all my properties and belongings are now yours.’

You said looking straight at Lucius Malfoy. You were too kind to tell him the exact names of the people that were making your day very difficult, otherwise you knew Regulus would’ve done something about it. But you needed all of them to be alive and with all four limbs so that the business would run smoothly.

‘Well, love, even if you’re married to me your family businesses and properties are still yours. I don't have any desire to steal your righteous spot as the head of the Y/l/n family. Everything is and will remain under your name. That is why you are the one hosting the meeting, as you righteously should’

The smirk on your lips turned into a pleased smile.

Before you could add something else and say goodbye his voice filled the vast room again.

‘Why ? Do these gentlemen have a problem with that ?’ he asked in a firm tone, sharp at the edges.

Your smile grew seeing the panic in their eyes.

They started to vehemently shake their heads.

‘No, honey. Don’t worry. Just a quick explanation to clear any doubt.’

Their shoulders relaxed a bit after the words left your mouth, but the look of anxiety never fully disappeared from their eyes.

‘Sorry if I bothered you, I’ll go now. Let you focus on your work’

A light chuckle could be heard from the other line.

‘You could never bother me, love’ he said warmly. You could hear the soft smile on his lips.

The curve on your mouth was now a little timid, but you made sure not to let the men in front of you see that.

‘I'll leave you to it now. See you at home, dear’ you said, your tone a bit softer despite yourself.

‘See you later, baby’

The pet name made your stomach churn, but, again, you pretended like nothing happened.

You were about to hang up when he spoke again.

‘Oh, before I forget, I suggest to all the gentlemen present in the room not to question my wife ever again. Or I promise there will be consequences‘ his voice now completely firm and intimidating.

And with that he hung up.

Mr Malfoy visibly swallowed.

But he clearly wasn’t the only one being affected by Regulus’ words.

No one dared to utter a word after the call, and the meeting went on smoothly.

Two years ago you would’ve never thought of getting married.

You were only twenty, the only thing on your mind was to finish college and then enter the family business.

But being part of one of the most powerful families in England was a tough job.

You were the youngest child, so, technically, you weren’t expected to run the business, but life, as you were about to learn, never went as you planned to.

In the span of two years you lost both your brother and your father.

Your mother had died when you were five. You didn’t remember a lot of it, but there was an image stuck in your brain of a bullet being shot in her head right in front of you and, blood everywhere. At least it was a recurring dream, but you could swear you remembered the sensation of your skin and clothes being covered in the red, metallic liquid.

Your father had always tried to convince you that it was just a dream, a nightmare, but you could see the pain in your brother’s face every time you talked about it. 

You were young but you weren’t stupid.

Your father spoiled you growing up, he gave you everything you wanted, you just had to mention it. But toys, clothes and jewelry weren't things you really wanted.

You wanted to be part of the family business and not be just a spoiled, little girl who came from a rich and powerful family.

Your brother trained you for this. You had asked him the day of your 14th birthday. Surprisingly he agreed. He thought you needed to know how to defend yourself, and he also knew that your brain could be a wonderful weapon. 

What you didn’t expect was your brother being taken away from you when you were eighteen. 

His body was found in the back of one of the casinos your family owned, his head split in two by a bullet and his throat slit. An execution.

At that time the world collapsed on you, your main firm point had been killed and you were lost. He had always been by your side, no matter what. And now he just wasn’t here anymore.

Getting back up wasn’t an easy task, but you were a Y/l/n and you needed to pull your shit back together.

Luckily, James and Remus were there for you. They had been your bodyguards for four years, and they became a constant in your life. Even though they were so young, the same age as you really, they were the best at their job.

They helped you with your training when your brother died, just like your father had instructed them. You spent so much time with them that you considered them your friends more than your bodyguards.

Things started to get better after some time, but just as you thought you were finally doing fine, the news of your father's illness made all of your hopes crumble.

A few months before he passed away he had called you in his room and to give you the news.

He wanted you to get married.

To the youngest of the Blacks.

You knew about the Ancient and most Noble House of Black, everyone knew who they were.

One of the most influential and powerful families in England, if not in the whole United Kingdom.

You had refused, at first. Marriage wasn’t on your mind at that moment, especially not an arranged one.

But your father had begged you.

‘Y/n, please think about it. I am dying, this is the reality and everything will be in your hands when the day comes’

‘So you don’t think that I could make it on my own ?’

‘Oh, sweetie, I'm more than sure of it’ 

He said with a proud but tired smile.

‘Then why ?’

‘I want you to be safe, and he could be a big help with that’

‘I know how to defend myself, dad. And i also have Remus and James’

‘I don’t mean safe in that way’

A confused frown appeared in your face

‘Y/n, this…business is dangerous. I didn't expect you to be in the middle of it at all. Your brother was meant to take over one day, but unfortunately the day never came and it will never come, so it’s your turn now. And I know that you will do a wonderful job, but I can't let you do it alone. You need someone on your side, someone who you can trust blindly when I cannot be there anymore.’

‘And you think Regulus Black could be that person ?’

Saying that you were skeptical was an understatement.

‘Yes, I firmly believe that. He’s been one of my most trusted collaborators, I am sure he will treat you right. He promised me.’

Your head snapped up, eyes on him.

‘You talked to him before talking to me ?’

Your father sighed.

‘I had to. I had to make sure he would accept and that he would be the right choice’

You stared at him in disbelief.

‘And he agreed ?’ you asked bewildered.

‘He did. Without hesitation’

‘So this is already decided’ you sighed, defeated.

‘I am sorry, sweetheart. I must make sure that you are safe and protected under all aspects’

So that's how you found yourself betrothed to Regulus Black.

At the beginning you hated the idea, but then you gave it some thought. 

You knew how the mafia world worked. Everything was about respect and power. Regulus Black had both, while you were just a spoiled little girl who had just inherited all of her father's businesses. 

In the end, you decided, you could’ve used his help.

The first time you met was a week after your talk with your father.

You knew Regulus by fame. He was the youngest of his family, being only 23 years old, but he was the one ruling it, taking Sirius Black's, his older brother, place as he,  apparently, had a very smart brain and an inclination to persuasion. He was clever, ambitious and incredibly resourceful. He was a rouler, a king. 

You had also heard about his looks. His appearance being the center of a lot of the  gossip you heard in the clubs. Voices of ebony black curls and eyes that resembled the coldest and grayest of storms.

So you had expected someone good looking.

What you had not expected was that he was more than good looking.

The man in front of you was handsome, gorgeous even. 

He looked like he could’ve been part of the most majestic of frescos if he hadn’t been right in front of your eyes in flesh and bones at that moment.

But you didn’t let his appearance deceive you. It didn’t matter if you found the man beautiful, you needed to trust him above all.

‘Miss Y/l/n it’s a pleasure to meet you’

His voice was smooth and almost honey-like, very calm and composed. 

‘Please, you can drop the formalities Mr Black, we’re gonna be married soon anyway. You can call me Y/n’ you said, extending your hand for him to shake. A formal greeting.

‘I believe this is the reason you wanted to meet. Oh, and, please, call me Regulus’

He took your hand in his, shaking gently. The smile on his face could only be described as sincere.

His hands were delicate and smooth with slender fingers adorned by several rings.

Certainly not what you expected from the hands of a mafia leader.

‘Yes, there are certain things that I would like to discuss with you before the wedding. If i am allowed’

A curious expression appeared on his face as he tilted his head slightly to the side.

‘You are always allowed to say whatever is on your mind Miss Y/l/n’

Your eyebrows lifted the slightest bit in surprise. You hadn’t expected the youngest of the Blacks to be this…polite.

You had expected a young, spoiled brat who had too much power and liked to play with it. You thought he would tell you to follow his rules and nothing more.

You certainly didn’t expect him to be this condescending.

‘I accept to become your bride…’ you started, but he sensed that you probably weren’t finished.

‘But…’ he added.

He definitely understood that there was something more.

So you went on.

‘But...there are conditions’ 

You met his eyes and you were surprised to find them already focused on you. 

They were calm, collected, if not a little warm. A stark contrast with their gray hue.

‘Please tell me. I’ll do whatever is in my power to make sure your needs are met’

For a moment you just stared at him, studying him. And you were surprised to find nothing but honesty in his eyes.

So you went back to talking.

‘I want to keep my family name’

That was important for you. You were about to become the head of the family, and you didn’t want anyone else's name on the properties. It was also the only thing that would keep you connected to your family after the wedding. Officially you would’ve become part of Noble house of Black, but you still wanted to have power over what was yours. Which brought you the second point.

‘And i will maintain the power over my businesses’

Another important thing was maintaining your position as the boss. The main reason you accepted to get married was because he would help you maintain your status, not to give your title to him. That was not negotiable.

After that you remained silent. You wanted to let him think, but not even ten seconds later he spoke.

‘Is that all ?’ 

He asked calmly, with genuine curiosity in his voice. His hand propped under his chin supporting his head, elbow on the table. The stance made him look even more attractive than he already was.

Then his eyes landed on yours and he gave a tiny nod.

‘I agree to both’

Your eyes widened a little as the words left his mouth. Of course you hadn’t expected him to just refuse on the spot, but those were requests that could cost him some of his power and possibly the loyalty of some of his collaborators, especially as the head of the family, and a loss of properties. And yet he didn’t hesitate to agree.

Maybe your father was right. Regulus Black could be trusted.

You could see the faces of the men accompanying Regulus behind him, and they seemed rather amused by the whole thing.

Suddenly a phone started ringing.

Regulus patted the left side of his jacket to fish out a phone from the inner pocket .

Looking at the contact name his face changed radically.

His soft and gentle features hardened, jaw tense and eyes suddenly cold.

Only when his gaze landed on your figure they softened the tiniest bit.

‘Excuse me Miss Y/l/n, apparently my brother needs me’ 

You nodded and he brought the phone to his ear.

‘Sirius. Yes. Ok. Then find a solution. Fine, I'll be there in twenty. Try to handle it while I’m on the way’

And then he hung up.

‘I’m really sorry Y/n, but there is an important matter that suddenly came up’

‘Of course, i understand’

You both stood up and with a handshake you said your goodbyes.

But before he could walk out of the room you called his name.

‘Regulus ?’

He turned around.

‘Yes ?’

‘I am putting my trust in you. Don’t make me regret it’

A small smile appeared on his lips. His eyes held a warm look. 

‘I promise you won’t, Y/n’

And with that he left.

The day of your wedding wasn’t how you had expected it. Just a small ceremony with the Black family and the Y/L/N family, or what remained of it, united. No vows, no kissing the bride, no big ceremony.

Just a formula pronounced by the priest and then the blood oath. A union that could not be broken. Both you and Regulus cut the palm of your hands with a sacred knife, then shook hands so that your blood could mix together and form a bond stronger than any ring.

That was the day your life changed.

For the better or for the worse you couldn’t tell.

You started taking care of the family business, attending meetings, keeping everything on track, lots of travels to go and meet all of your father’s international collaborators and, apart from the occasional fights that happened at the clubs and people (men) constantly questioning your position as boss just because you were a young woman, you were handling it well.

What you weren’t handling the best way was your role as a wife.

You and Regulus started to get to know one another by force of things. Living in the same house you couldn’t ignore each other for too long, and it sure wasn’t your intention. You were married to him, you couldn't ignore each other till the end of your days.

And so thought he.

At the beginning it was a bit awkward. 

Sharing space with a person you didn’t really know was less than pleasing, but with the passing of time it became easier. You slowly learned each other’s habits and routines, likes and dislikes, for example how he loved his coffee black with two spoons of sugar, because despite being a cold hearted mafia boss he had a huge sweet tooth, or how when he was stressed he started rubbing his left temple. Never the right, always the left. 

Or how he fidgeted with his rings when he was thinking.

For you, sleeping was especially uncomfortable. You had always slept alone, so suddenly sharing a bed with another person made you feel slightly uneasy. You didn’t sleep much during the first month, only being able to fall asleep out of exhaustion after a week of staying up every night.

But then you got used to his presence beside you, almost turning the tables because after nine months of living together the only nights you couldn’t sleep were the one where he was out dealing with his business.

During those nights you missed the feeling of having him by your side, telling you how his day had been, or when your arms would brush by mistake, sending shivers down your spine.

Your relationship was peculiar, to say the least.

At the beginning of your marriage you decided to adopt a strategy so that anyone would believe that you were a close-knit couple. And that’s how the pet names started.

What better way to show somebody that you were in love ?

At the top of the list there would’ve been physical touch, but neither you nor Regulus were fans of PDA, so pet names would do.

You used them especially during calls. It was rare for you to be both at the same meeting, but when you needed each other's opinion a call was more than welcome.

At the beginning they didn't affect you, it was just a strategy to show that you were close and powerful together, that now you were one.

But when you started to get to know Regulus things changed. 

Your feelings changed.

Because he was the first to actually take your thoughts and opinions to consideration, he was the first one to ask for your ideas. You discussed things together, you were equals.

Your view of him started to change.

He was kind to you, he always made sure that you were comfortable and understood, he had the kind of sarcasm that would make you laugh so hard that you couldn’t even feel your cheeks.

So it wasn't a surprise to you when you started to feel a certain warmth when he called you ‘baby’ or ‘love’ or any other endearment, or when you were in the kitchen and he lightly put his hand on the small of your back to pass behind you, or when you stared at each other for a little too long, or when his hand found yours during dinner and galas to make sure that you were always by his side.

Small touches became ordinary, an everyday thing, a sign that you were more than comfortable with the other's presence.

One thing you never did in two years of marriage, though, was kissing.

Your lips never touched, not even at the altar.

Both of you knew that what was between you two wasn't a marriage of convenience anymore. The things you both felt for the other were definitely something more than that, the little touches, the longing stares, the need to protect each other. It was more than what it used to be.

But, no matter what, you had never kissed. It felt like crossing a line of some sort, and, apparently, neither of you was ready for that.

The leaders of two of the most powerful mafia families of the United Kingdom acted like middle schoolers around each other because they were both cowards.

Funny, wasn’t it ?

The good thing was that now, you considered the house you shared together your home.

At first it was hard. It was a new place for you, and you had to share it with a person  you didn't really know. It felt more like hell on earth. But after two years you could finally consider the place your home.

The same home you had just returned to. With your shoulders slightly slouched because of the anger and tension of your meeting with all those shitty businessmen that couldn't seem to respect you, you took off your heels, feeling the cold floor beneath your feet. You headed to your bedroom to take off the dress you were wearing, and to put on something more comfortable.

Looking at the clock on your nightstand you noticed it was way past eight. Regulus’ meeting was supposed to end at seven forty. You furrowed your eyebrows.

He must have stayed a little bit longer to talk with the Prewett siblings who were close friends of yours.

You walked to the kitchen, deciding to cook something.

You were starving and you were sure Regulus was too.

As soon as you started chopping the vegetables you heard the door open.

Regulus was home.

"Hey Y/n" he said. His voice was unusually breathless and almost pained.

You turned around still chopping the carrot on your tray.

"Hi, I'm making something to eat so-"

The words died in your throat when you took in his figure and noticed his state.

He was covered in blood.

It was on his shirt, his pants, jacket and shoes.

Even his face hadn’t been spared as the little stains and smudges of red blood contrasted with the fair complection of his skin.

Your heart stopped beating for a second.

"Oh fuck, Reggie" you didn’t even notice the nickname leaving your lips, breath knocked out of your lungs as you dropped the knife and ran to him.

"What happened ? Are you hurt ?" 

You didn't even let him speak, you started analyzing his body looking for wounds, scratches, bullet holes, even the smallest of paper cuts would’ve sent you spiraling in that moment.

You hoped to find none of those.

"Hey, hey" he stopped your hands from roaming his chest, taking them in his.

"Hey, look at me"

His voice was rather calm for the situation you were in.

You locked eyes with him, saying nothing and everything at the same time.

"I’m fine" he assured you, keeping eye contact.

"But, the blood-"

"The blood is not mine, love. Don’t worry" 

The endearment would've made you blush if he hadn't been dripping blood on your floor.

But that was not the main focus at that moment.

"Did someone attack you ?" you asked.

It wasn't uncommon for some rival families to organize attacks to the clubs you owned or to some of your minor collaborators, but no one ever tried to attack the head of the clan. It would’ve been too risky, too reckless. Basically a suicide.

Apparently things were changing.

He nodded to your question.

"An ambush" 

You sighed.

"Where ?" 

"We were on the road, no specific place"

"Any pattern that could lead to a specific clan ?" 

"None that i noticed" 

"Did they follow you ?"

"Almost certainly" 

"Are you hurt ?" you asked, blood pumping fast in your veins. You knew there were people on their way to come and kill both of you probably, but you needed to make sure that he was alright.

"Y/n that's not-"

"Are you hurt ?" you asked again a little louder. Your tone firm and steady.

"No, i am not hurt" he answered, looking straight into your eyes, hands on your cheeks as his thumbs started stroking gently.

"Ok, we need to hide before-"

Regulus never managed to finish his sentence because bullets started flying right into your kitchen.

You both ducked under the furniture, hoping it would protect you just long enough to get your weapons out.

"Third drawer on the left !” you shouted.

Regulus stood a little bit, just enough to move his feet and drag himself near the drawer, taking out your only chance of survival.

"Baby !" he shouted above the sound of bullets flying above your heads, throwing you a gun.

You didn't pay too much attention to the pet name, your lives were at risk.

He took a gun as well and put two loaders in the pockets of his pants, throwing you two more.

You both loaded your guns and then all hell broke loose.

You shot two men right in the head, wounded another one on the shoulder while Regulus finished him, then killed two other men.

But they were too many for just two people, even if the people were as skilled as you and your husband.

"We need cover !" Regulus screamed.

He was right, you would've never come out alive if it was just you two.

You hoped James and Remus had their phones with them.

Lucky for you James answered immediately.

"Miss Y/l/n, is everything alright ?" he asked. 

Jesus, how many times did you have to tell him to drop the formalities ? 

"Not really, James. They’re shooting us."

"Hang in there, Y/n. Remus and I are coming" 

"Hurry up, please. We're running out of ammos" 

"Give us five minutes"

"You have three" 

And then you hung up.

You turned to Regulus who had just dodged a bullet and had planted another two in one of the man's head.

This wasn't exactly how you imagined your day would end, covered in blood and with bullets risking to kill you every five seconds.

You were so lost in your thoughts for a moment that you hadn't noticed a gun pointed directly at you from afar. 

The only thing you heard was the sound of a bullet being fired, but it never came.

Regulus’ inhumanly fast reflexes prevented you from being hit.

He launched himself onto you, tackling you on the floor right behind the island of the kitchen.

As soon as you understood what had happened, you turned to your husband who was now sitting beside you.

"Shit, Reggie, are you hurt ? Did he get you ?" you asked frantically, panic in your eyes and voice as you cradled his face in your hands, tracing his cheeks with your thumb in a frenzy.

He looked at you with a look that you couldn't read, he was staring directly at your soul. 

He didn't say anything, didn’t talk.

He just took your hands in his and placed them on his chest, right above his heart.

A confused look adorned your features.

“No” he breathed simply “no, they didn’t”

And it felt like you could breathe again.

You let out a long exhale, and you could feel your eyes start to water, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks at the mere thought of losing Regulus.

But he was fine.

He was in front of you, and he was fine. 

He was alive.

And then, like he was hit by a sudden epiphany, he lifted his arms to gently stroke your cheeks, before crashing your lips together in the most urgent, earth shattering kiss you had ever had.

Your brain didn’t have time to process what was happening because your body responded first, and what could you do if not kiss him back, just as strongly, just as fiercely, like it could be your last kiss ever.

You couldn’t hear guns shooting anymore, there were no more bullets flying around, evrything was suddenly muted, just white noise surrounding the two of you. 

It could’ve been the end of the world and wouldn’t have given less than a shit. 

There were just his lips on yours, his hand on your cheek and your hearts beating together.

When you pulled back the world started spinning again, the noise and the battle surrounding you filling your ears, but his hands never left your face.

"I’m sorry. I had to do it, even just once, before I died" he said, eyes still glued to yours.

“Don’t you even dare say that word Regulus, don’t you even fucking think about it” you said through gritted teeth, voice shaking.

The hand on your cheek went to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as his thumb stroked your cheekbone softly.

“You have nothing to worry about, my love. I just decided I can't die before I get to taste your lips again” he whispered with a smile on his face.

You let out an incredulous chuckle, your shoulders shaking despite yourself.

“I hate you” you said, not an ounce of hatred in your voice.

“And i love you” he said, like it was the easiest thing in the world, like you weren’t surrounded by people who wanted you dead, like the place you had started to consoder your home wasn’t being destroyed by bullets and guns.

You were almost sure you heard James and Remus shout your name, a clear sign that they had arrived.

And yet you couldn’t focus on anything else that wasn’t the man in front of you, a man you never expected to fall in love with. He hadn’t been part of your perfectly programmed life before everything went to shit. He was brought into your exitence when you needed him the most, and now you weren’t sure if there was even a life without him in it.

You liked to think that your father knew what he was doing when he chose him to be your future husband. He had always had a talent for reading people.

“I love you, too” you said, just like that. As simple as a breath of fresh air.

Such a mob boss thing to do, confessing your feelings in the middle of flying bullets and blood.

But it didn’t matter, because Regulus' eyes became the softes you had ever witnessed, and the smile on his face was genuine. Just for you.

It died down quickly when you heard the gunfire getting closer to you.

His face lost every trace of softness, becoming cold, calculating and focused.

“Stay here and give me cover. Don’t let them see you” he said, kissing your cheek before sliding smoothly on the other side of the kitchen island.

You nodded.

“I swear, if you die I'm gonna kill you” you told him, looking him directly in the eyes.

“Doesn’t sound very logical, baby. But I'll try my best not to” he said as the corner of his lips lifted up in a smirk, before firing his gun and diving back into the battle.

A man appeared next to you, and, before he could even breathe, you put a bullet through his head. 

You located another one aming right at Regulus with his weapon. You took the knife you had been using to cut the vegetables mere minutes earlier and shoved it right in his throat before he could pull the trigger.

You preferred bladed weapons over anything, but they weren’t really useful when your opponent had a gun.

You could see Remus and James taking out eight men at once, joined by Regulus’ bodyguards Barty and Evan.

You threw the knife right at a man’s heart, and shot two others right in their skull.

And then everything turned quiet.

No more shooting, no more screaming.

Just silence broke by your ragged breathing, and a bunch of bodies covered in blood on your floor.

For a heartbeat or two everything was silent, except for the ring in your ears and the furious thumping of your heart in your chest.

Suddenly you heard the bang of a gun.

You could see James and Remus in front of you, alive and breathing.

Barty and Evan were a few steps away.

Regulus-

Regulus.

Your blood ran cold.

Your world stopped.

No.

No no no no no no no no.

You turned around so fast that your neck might've as well snapped.

But you didn't care because you had to see, you had to make sure that-

“Next time you try to kill my wife think twice about it”

Regulus was alive.

He was alive.

And he wasn't bleeding.

He wasn't injured.

He was fine.

He was breathing.

Only then air filled your lungs again.

He was standing next to a man, hovering above him in all his height.

His gun was smoking and pointing at the man's arm which was now bleeding on the floor and stretched in your direction. He had tried to shoot you.

Regulus’ foot was right on his throat, expensive black shoe covered in red and pushing mercilessly down, making all the little bones crack.

His face was stone cold, not a sign of emotion in his features.

“Actually, how about you never think again at all”

With a swift motion Regulus directed the gun to the man's head, then pulled the trigger.

And, finally, everything was over.

There was blood everywhere, corpses on the floor, and you would clearly have to move from that house seeing the wreckage that was left of it.

But for now you didn't care.

For now everything that mattered was that Regulus was in front of you, just a few feet away.

Alive and breathing.

And that was enough.

You immediately dropped the gun you had been holding.

It fell with a loud ‘tunk’ as you ran towards the man that had stolen your heart without even trying to.

Your body collided with his in a desperate hug. Your arms flying to circle his neck, hands diving in his soft, ebony locks.

His arms were around your waist, holding you tight, like he never wanted to let you go.

And, well, neither did you.

You let go just enough to step back a little, to look into his eyes that were a color as cold as ice, but held so much warmth for you.

Your hands caressed his face, his found home on your hips, and in a flash, your lips collided.

And it was everything.

It was fireworks. The bloom of spring. The first summer rain. The taste of happiness.

The feeling of love.

All in a mouth so soft and sweet, and, at the same time, so urgent and needy.

Regulus’ mouth.

You wanted to melt, and maybe you did a little.

When your lips parted and your head tilted back a little, you were met with the most love-struck gaze you ever had the pleasure to witness.

A gaze you were sure matched with yours.

“Are you ok ?” he asked, running his eyes all over your face, and stepping back to check your body too.

“I'm fine, Reg, don't worry. Just some little scratches here and there” you reassured him, taking his hand into yours and slotting your fingers together “how about you ?”

“Me too, nothing to worry about” he said as he tightened the hold on your hand just the slightest bit.

‘I'm fine’ the gesture is meant to say ‘we are fine’.

And that was all you needed .

“I meant that” he suddenly spoke up, stopping in front of you.

Your eyebrow slightly furrowed in confusion.

Your hands were still laced together when your foreheads met with a gentle touch.

“When I told you that I love you. I mean that, I really do” his voice was barely a whisper, and it made you smile how vulnerable he sounded.

“I do, too. So much” you told him with the most sincere expression on your face.

He broke into a tiny smile.

You did, too.

And then you were kissing again.

And it got better every time.

“I can't believe it took you a near death experience to confess your love for each other” you heard Barty mumble from across the room.

“I suggest you shut up if you wanna keep your job Crouch” Regulus warned him, but his voice lacked the bite completely.

Barty just rolled his eyes, as both you and your husband dived right back into a kiss.

“I need a raise” you heard Remus sigh, defeated, before everything tuned out.

Everything, except Regulus’ lips on yours.