#so yeah... definitely not intentional in the slightest

[brokenbutunbowed]

Our first (and so far only) set of 2025 lambs are officially ten days old and growing like weeds! Michigan can't make up it's mind about the weather so they've been in the barn so they stay dry and warm.

Josephine and Georgina 💕 mom is Eostre, our two year old Savannah daughter. We have one more for sure pregnant ewe, Bibble, also in the barn on baby watch. Hopefully Savannah herself is NOT pregnant, the ol hag. I don't want more bottle babies this year. I love Freyja and Frejda very dearly, but I don't have the time or energy for bottle lambs right now ☠️

[amara-scott]

Tea(se) for breakfast ☕️

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x female!Slytherin Reader

Summary: He's fucked. And he knows it. But the worst part? You know too. And you love to see him suffer.

If there was one thing Y/N knew how to do, it was drive Mattheo Riddle absolutely insane.

And the worst part? She wasn’t even trying.

She was currently sitting at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, casually stirring her morning tea, looking completely unbothered while Mattheo sat across from her, seething.

It wasn’t fair. Not in the slightest.

She had waltzed into breakfast fashionably late, wearing that smug little smirk that told him she knew exactly what she was doing. Her uniform skirt was slightly shorter than regulation (whether that was intentional, he wasn’t sure, but he was too busy staring to care). And, to top it all off, she had taken one look at him—one single glance—before turning away with a hum, as if he wasn’t worth her time.

Now, she was sipping her tea, completely oblivious—or at least pretending to be—to the fact that Mattheo had spent the last ten minutes gripping his fork so tightly he might actually snap it in half.

Draco, who had been attempting to hold a conversation with him, finally groaned. “Alright, what is your problem?”

Mattheo’s jaw ticked. “Nothing.”

Draco followed his glare and scoffed. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake. Just hex her and get it over with.”

Blaise, sitting beside him, let out a low chuckle. “You’re hopeless, mate.”

Mattheo scowled. Hopeless? No. He was Mattheo fucking Riddle. He didn’t get flustered over a girl—especially not one who was currently twirling her spoon in a way that had his mind going places it definitely shouldn’t be going.

“Hopeless, my ass,” he muttered.

Blaise smirked. “Right. That’s why you’ve been looking at her like you want to devour her and throw her off the Astronomy Tower at the same time.”

Before Mattheo could retort, Y/N turned her attention back to them, finally gracing him with a glance. But, instead of acknowledging him, she looked at Blaise, smiling like she wasn’t actively making Mattheo’s life a living hell.

“Blaise,” she purred. “Be a dear and pass me the marmalade?”

Blaise raised a brow, amused, but complied. “Of course, love.”

She shot him a wink in thanks before spreading the marmalade over her toast, still refusing to give Mattheo so much as a second of her attention.

Mattheo almost saw red.

“Oh, come on,” he snapped. “You’re actually doing this on purpose now.”

Y/N blinked at him, feigning innocence. “Doing what, exactly?”

Mattheo slammed his fork down. “You know what.”

She took another bite of her toast, chewing slowly, as if she had all the time in the world. “You’re imagining things, Riddle.”

Mattheo clenched his fists. She was insufferable. Absolutely, utterly—

But then she smirked.

A slow, teasing thing that sent heat straight to his stomach.

And that’s when he knew—she was winning.

Not for long.

Mattheo leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, his dark eyes locking onto hers with a promise.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he drawled, voice low and dangerous. “If you want to play, let’s play.”

Y/N just hummed, completely unfazed, as she took another slow sip of tea.

“Already am, Riddle.”

And with that, she stood, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she strode out of the Great Hall—leaving Mattheo simmering in his seat, watching her go like a man starved.

Blaise let out a low whistle. “Mate. You’re fucked.”

Mattheo exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair.

Yeah.

He definitely was.

[linddzz]

PLEASE tell us more about Jayvik being unhealthy about each other, this needs to be talked about more for... scientific reasons (borderline toxic codependency my beloved)

They're honestly such a fun mix of being adorable silly little nerds who could have so many cute domestic scenes, but there is ALSO that Weird About Each Other vibe lurking over them like a sword of codependent damocles, and it's why I'm SO GLAD I waited to see how Season2 played out before I started writing fic with the intent to post it. Romantic, platonic, the shit they do for/because of each other is WILD no matter what flavor their love takes. You see BITS of it in Season one from Jayce when he ousts Heimerdinger, which is done entirely because Jayce believes the Hexcore can save Viktor from his terminal illness and Heimerdinger is in the way of that. Remember that before Viktor gets his prognosis, Jayce was the one proposing Hextech be shut down due to Jinx stealing a gemstone.

There's nothing that has happened to make Jayce less likely to be concerned about the possible danger of Hextech, and the moment where he asks for Hextech to be suspended shows that he's more likely to believe Heimerdinger's cautions. BUT...that goes out the window with no hesitation when he believes it could save Viktor.

And that's the main thread of their devotion to each other, the willingness to put each other before anyone and anything else, including each others wishes. Jayce is at first the most obvious one when he jumps right to breaking his promise to destroy the hexcore so he can save Viktor's life with it. Yeah, he didn't know that it killed Sky at this point, so the betrayal does not seem as dire to him as it would to Viktor at this point, BUT...considering everything else they do, I think knowing about Sky would maybe add like...thirty seconds to Jayce's decision making process. Shooting Viktor isn't just an act to save the world, though that does weigh on him. It's part of saving Viktor from himself, and only done because VIKTOR told him to. It, at first, seems like Jayce is the one with this more unhealthy devotion, where he's willing to put Viktor above everything else, including Viktor's wishes. Viktor is the one who leaves with the goal to pursue ways to actually help people, after all. He is, in that moment, able to put their dream over Jayce. BUT...this moment is Viktor's version of Jayce asking for hextech to be suspended. The snapping point for Jayce was the threat of Viktor dying, remember. (Also Viktor is ready to take Jayce back the SECOND Jayce shows back up. I would bet good money that a solid six-ish months of hearing NOTHING from Jayce spooked him right out of that assertion that their paths had fully diverged lmao) Then we get that phenomenal reveal that Viktor is knowingly dooming timelines, knowingly setting them on a path towards calamity and mutually assured destruction again and again, all with the goal of stopping himself from ending Jayce in a way that keeps their fates connected. Even if that means risking Jayce getting destroyed by him again and again when it doesn't work. And yaknow. Great story. EXCELLENT Literary Romance right there. Definitely not aspirational for real life in the slightest lmaooo

[goldfades]

my heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue / all's well that ends well to end up with you / swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover ─── joe burrow⁹

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine | FREE PALESTINE!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you and joe are newly in the relationship, but he wants to make sure you know how much he appreciates you. valentine's day fluff!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | joe being awkward, but very sweet and short! a perfect treat for valentine's day.

The first time Joe mentioned Valentine’s Day, it was in the most unromantic way possible—half-muttered under his breath while lacing up his shoes.

“What’s the deal with that, anyway?”

You had been stretched out on the couch, lazily flipping through your phone, when you glanced up at him. “With what?”

“Valentine’s.” He stood, rolling his shoulders, his focus anywhere but on you. “Are people really into that?”

You smirked. “I mean… yeah. Most people like romance, Joe.”

That made him pause. He looked at you for a second, something flickering behind his gaze. Then, just as quickly, he grabbed his keys off the counter and mumbled something about practice.

That was weeks ago. You didn’t bring it up again, figuring Joe wasn’t the overly sentimental type—and that was fine. You didn’t need a big, grand gesture. You’d been together for less than a year, still learning the ways in which love softened and settled between you. Joe showed his love in quieter ways. The hand on your thigh while he drove. The way he always noticed when you were cold before you even said anything. How he sent you good morning texts even if he was already awake, even if he was just in the next room.

So, no—you hadn’t expected much for Valentine’s Day. Maybe dinner, maybe a card. Maybe nothing, just a normal night curled up on the couch with a movie and the smell of his cologne mixing into your hoodie.

You definitely hadn’t expected this.

The note had been waiting for you when you woke up, written in Joe’s neat, almost too-perfect handwriting:

Be ready by 7. Dress warm.

That was it. No hint, no context. Just a time and a request. And now, standing in front of your closet, you felt a flutter of something deep in your stomach—anticipation, curiosity. Because for all of Joe’s quietness, his understatement, he didn’t do things halfway.

And whatever this was… it wasn’t going to be halfway.

By the time you were ready—wrapped in layers like the note had suggested—Joe was already waiting for you downstairs.

And that’s when you saw them.

Two bouquets.

One was classic—deep red roses, velvety petals catching the dim light of your apartment’s entryway, wrapped in that expensive, crisp paper that only high-end florists use. The other? It was filled with your favorite flowers, carefully arranged with an artistic touch, delicate and intentional. It looked like something out of a luxury wedding spread, not something you’d expect to receive just for being loved by Joe Burrow.

Your mouth parted slightly as you looked between them. “Two?”

Joe, standing there in his dark coat, hands stuffed in his pockets, shifted slightly on his feet. “You’ve mentioned both.”

It was the simplest explanation, but the weight of it pressed into your chest. He had listened. Not just in passing, but in that quiet, thorough way of his. Enough to hesitate at the flower shop, enough to get both because he didn’t want to assume.

He extended them to you, still looking just the slightest bit unsure. “I wasn’t sure which one you’d want.”

You took them, shaking your head with a quiet laugh. “Joe… this is too much.”

His brow twitched, the closest thing to a frown. “How is it too much?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it, because… yeah, how was it too much? It was Joe, after all—he didn’t do flashy for the sake of it. He did intentional. If he did something, he meant it.

So you stepped closer, pressing the bouquets against his chest as you leaned up on your toes to kiss him, slow and soft. “Thank you.”

He hummed against your lips, hands sliding around your waist, steady and warm.

“Come on,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to look at you. “We have reservations.”

Joe wasn’t the type to opt for a stuffy, overdone Valentine’s dinner���the kind with dim lighting and a pre-fixed menu and an upcharge for a glass of champagne. No, he had found a place that felt you.

It wasn’t too flashy, but it was nice—a cozy restaurant tucked into a side street downtown, warm lighting casting soft glows against the wooden beams. The kind of place where the food was actually good and the atmosphere didn’t feel forced.

You were about halfway through your meal, comfortably tucked into the corner booth, when you finally had to say it.

“You really thought this through.”

Joe, who had been cutting into his steak with casual ease, glanced up. “Yeah?”

You set your fork down, tipping your head. “Yeah. I mean, this isn’t—” You gestured vaguely around. “This isn’t last minute. You actually planned this.”

His lips curved slightly. “Of course, I did.” Like it was obvious. Like the thought of not doing it hadn’t even crossed his mind.

You smiled, warmth unfurling in your chest. “You’re kinda romantic, Joe Burrow.”

His eyes flickered with amusement. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “If you say so.”

But he didn’t argue much.

After dinner, instead of heading home, Joe drove you somewhere you didn’t recognize—just outside the city, where the skyline dimmed and the world felt a little quieter.

When he pulled up to a private outdoor rink, you nearly laughed. “Ice skating?”

Joe, already stepping out of the car, shot you a look. “You said you wanted to go.”

You had said that. Months ago. Offhandedly, in passing, watching some rom-com where the main characters skated under twinkling lights. You had sighed and muttered, ‘That looks cute, I wanna do that.’

And apparently, Joe had remembered.

You weren’t good at ice skating. Not even a little. But that didn’t matter, because every time you wobbled, Joe was there, steady hands catching you before you could fall.

At one point, he just pulled you against his chest, keeping you there. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

You grinned up at him. “That’s part of the experience.”

He rolled his eyes, but you caught the way he tugged you closer, letting you press your cold nose against his neck.

It was perfect.

Simple, quiet, thoughtful.

And when you got home, when you saw the final thing Joe had left for you—another note on your pillow, just a short, scrawled I love you—you realized he hadn’t gone over the top.

He had just loved you the way he always did. The way only he could.

[only4riwoo]

paper hearts 🏹 k.dh

genre smut 941 words cw MDNI!! sub!leehan, lowercase intended, unprotexted sex (big nono!!), cum eating, handjob (m), overstim, pet names (pretty, princess, love etc), if im missing smth lmk!! note i would tag liv (our beloved liverspaghett) because she helped me write a piece of this but since she deactivated her account, we will instead mourn the loss of our pookie. we will miss you liv rip!! this post is way over due, i was supposed to upload this on valentines day but i fell back and it definitely affected me :^ i know this is a super short read but enjoy this little treat my lovelies & make sure to keep urself hydrated; also that posture ml, sit up straight! < 33

"hi pretty.." leehan hums, his voice scratchy as he plopped down onto the mattress of your shared bed.

his hand was splay across your lower abdomen, the bed dipping a tad bit more under his weight when he scooted closer behind you.

although leehan was usually pretty good at keeping it in his pants, the smell of your freshly shampooed hair invading his nose was making his randomly speratic hormones go extremely haywire.

a sudden shift in what was, on a normal day, a comfortable type of tension, became very heavy and almost 'nose-stuffing'.

you clear your throat in an attempt to catch his attention since you noticed he was starting to stare directly at you with a blank expression. "you okay?"

your tone was softhearted with no intent of offense, your left hand reaching back to rest on the underside of leehan's arm, the one he used to keep a tight grip around your waist.

after a moment of complete silence, the only sound being your breathing and the quiet hum of the ceiling fan above.

he eventually answered, but of course, it wasn't a normal response to someone asking if you're okay.

"you smell good" leehan suddenly blurted, ripping a short giggle from your throat. "baby, you know you can tell me that there's something wrong, right?" you reassure, knowing leehan has a tendency to stay quiet and keep things to himself.

"yeah, i know," he subtly nods at you before continuing to speak. "i just.. need you so bad"

it was a given that he was reluctant to speak but he knew you care and will do everything in your power to help him when in need.

an almost silent noise came from your noise, the quietest laugh.

you didn't say anything, the hand on his arm coming down to pause just over the spot he wanted you so badly.

leehan whined at the slightest of touch, his hips pushing forward a bit to chase the feeling of your hand.

you knew your way around leehan's body. you also knew his limits, what he could take and what he couldn't take.

"really, hani?" that damn nickname. he cursed under his breath at your sultry tone. "please.." leehan whispered, desperately longing for your touch.

you laugh at his desperation, eventually giving in and sitting up before turning around, pushing leehan to lie on his back. pressing your palm flat against his clothed boner, you earn a sigh of relief from leehan as his hips involuntarily jumped forward into your hand.

with his chest heaving, breathless whimpers roaring up, he subtly humped against your fingers. leehan barked up a pathetic whimper when your hand slipped past his waistband, his eyes threatening to roll back as you thumb at his slit.

"fuck," he groaned, his hips slowly thrusting up. "ah ah, no sir." you warn with a click of your tongue, shifting your body to help him pull his sweats off before sitting on his thighs to hold him still.

leehan decided to actually listen to you, keeping still despite the obvious need in his watery eyes. the tip of his cock was flushed pink, just like his cheeks. you could hear he was breathing heavier. his cock stood up, aching for your touch. he wasn't beyond begging, never was. and that's exactly what he would do if you kept teasing him like this.

you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, dragging it up until you reach the top. you circle the head with your thumb before pushing your fist back down. leehan let out a quiet sob in response, drowning in the feeling of your touches.

you smear the small bead of precum that formed at his slit and spit in your palm to wet his cock. your hands move quicker and grip him harder, leaving him wriggling and whining under your weight, but unable to escape. it wasn't like he wanted to anyways. he rolled his hips into your palm, desperate for release. the moment you noticed his breath got shaky and uneven, you knew he was getting close. just as you feel his cock twitch, you pull your hand away.

leehan lying all desperate underneath you was really a sight to see, cupping the side of his face to admire his beauty before pulling him in for a long awaited kiss. you felt leehan’s hands come up to rest on your hips but you ignored it, continuing to kiss him while your free hand reached down to fondle his balls.

his fingers clung to your waist, pulling you closer to him to deepen the kiss. leehan’s tongue slipped through the small gap between your parted lips, moaning into your mouth as you start stroking him again.

the moment was heated and heavy, leehan’s chest caving as his dick twitched sporadically in your palm.

“ngh.. “ he whimpered against your mouth, his hips twitching up into your hand. “i’m-” he pulled away to make an attempt to speak but cut himself off with a soft groan, his cock pulsing as you graze your fingernail on his head. “fuck, wait i’m gonna cum”

leehan shudders harshly as you continue milking him. his stomach muscles clenched, his dick twitching again before it spurted hot and sticky semen all over your hand and his thighs. your hand doesn’t stop, working leehan through his orgasm until he’s shaking from overstimulation.

it’s when leehan pushes your hand away that you stop and lick his cum off your hand. suddenly gasping as your back hit’s the mattress. “your turn, princess.” he whispers teasingly from above you, a shit-eating grin spread across his face.

[gangplanksorenji]

Kinknuary Day 1: Breeding

Pairing: aespa Winter x Male Reader

Word Count: 4,471

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

A/N: Happy birthday to Winter!! This will be her birthday fic as it's intentional to put her as the introductory of the series since it's also her day!

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“God, that’s an awful one.”

It definitely wasn’t atrocious in your opinion, but it’s the opposite with her—she barely appreciated something that much about the movie and it’s nothing new, honestly. Minjeong is hard to impress, and it almost feels like a fever dream if she turned around, her interest piqued or even the slightest of a smile induced on that sternly, beautiful face of hers. You know a couple of things to break that attitude down in the slightest but nothing was ever close and you didn’t care about it because you’re treating her, not the other way around. Sure, she appreciates your efforts but you know it was never enough and you hate it.

“At least you’ve watched the movie I want, Minjeong.”

“But it’s horrible! At least I didn’t get bored by you rubbing my thighs—”

“Minjeong, not here! You damn know we’re still in public, right?”

On how many times you’d told her to calm her nerves down in public is how many times she’d disregarded your scolding, acting like the biggest brat and the most seductive vixen you’ve been with.

Your relationship with Minjeong… isn’t the best but god, it’s always a wild and interesting ride. 

For starters, it’ll be such a nuisance with all of the complaints and random whimpers from her in someone’s perspective and it is true, she’s truly annoying and hard to deal with—almost like a child trapped in a woman’s body. Yet, you got the grip of her and read her like a book, absolutely knowing what she loves and doesn’t but it’s not always the best of things coming to her end. 

She may seem like a douche but honestly, she's thoughtful and the complete opposite of that. It also doesn’t help the fact that she lived most of her life with such luxury that it’s almost peak-sophistication and even with you, she feels the same. 

With the days you're down, she’s there to comfort you as you do with her and that’s why you’ll always cherish every moment with her, even with the most embarrassing and the silliest ones.

Her perfect imperfections, it’s pristine and broken yet so beautiful…

“You can’t stop me, daddy.”

“Yeah, I can’t.” you mutter upon yourself as she’s trying to push your buttons once again. Knowing things may get out of control, you didn’t want to waste some time trying to deal with her and instead, coursed the way towards your vehicle, leading the way. With just mere two minutes of walking, you swiftly approached your vehicle, opening the front passenger door as a gentlemanly act towards Minjeong as she chuckled softly, flustered from your actions as you got onto your seat too in a rush.

“What do you want, Minjeong?”

“I’m just so tired, daddy—let’s just go home to your place. I love it there! It’s so cozy and it smells so fruity and flowery…”

And she’s luring you to fall into her trap again, probably. This wasn’t the plan all along—both of you should part ways after escorting Minjeong on her way home—yet there’s maybe something in her mind that can possibly worsen or make everything better even though it was.

As much as you can read her, she’s an unpredictable woman and that’s what makes her unique—unique enough for you to fall in love.

“Well, I thought you were going home? Isn't this enough?”

“Well—” Minjeong clicks her tongue, smiling not-so-sarcastically as she lets you know how serious she is with her decision. “—your Minjeongie changed her mind—and don’t tell me you don’t want me!”

Minjeong’s minuscule noise and tone of annoyance is as adorable as her pristine beautiful face, and you can’t help but giggle because of her cute act.

“Yah! I never said anything that I don’t want you—” You then kissed her cheek and ran your hands onto her silky dark-brown locks as she blushed from your subtle actions. She finds it endearing with you, reassuring her as she feels the utmost affection that she always loved. “—besides, I even love that idea better…”

“Stop it…” Minjeong lightly punches your shoulder as she feels weakened with your affection towards her. 

“Well, besides—” You adjust your position to further look into her with a better angle, further appreciating her flawless features and for you to have a better conversation with her. “—there’s no one is this world that can stop us, Minjeongie.”

Caress her hair playfully and then run your finger slowly down her cheek as you finish your sentence that implies the utmost adoration—

“I want you for me, tonight, and no else.”

Minjeong inches her face closer towards yours as her eyes scanned your face, her mouth curling up a smirk and her hand cupping your cheek gently, letting you know how she adores you too.

“I feel the same too… I want you and you only.”

Unable to contain the built-up intimacy from earlier, she initiated a torrid kiss in which you were caught off-guard but your instinct made you reciprocate quickly enough before you even truly noticed. Pecks and sounds of little-to-none discomfort, as well as pleasure can be heard resonating around the car. You feel yourself falling down to the deep abyss again, constantly drowning into the sea of intimacy yet you swim away, forcing yourself to pull out not because you’re out of breath but because you wanted to go home with Minjeong as soon as possible.

“But I wanted more!” 

“When we get to your place, we could spend the entire night doing this—or maybe even more, Minjeong…”

As much as wanted to disagree and derive you onto her wants, she can’t blame you with that as you absolutely had a point. Both are deprived of each other’s taste, and both of you want to savor it on full-comfort and ease—at Minjeong’s home.

--------

Scrambled and scuffed, probably the best way to describe Minjeong’s bedroom right now as the clothing is just everywhere—to god knows where they are and you absolutely didn’t care about it. The two of you didn’t want any foreplay or any teasing involved yet you know that Minjeong isn’t like that, so she herself has something to hold you over while you’re absolutely just with your boxers.

“So needy for me, Minjeongie…”

“Can’t help myself, daddy and besides—” She moans ever-so-slightly as you continue peppering her neck with kisses that makes her world rock on how full of heat and love each peck has. “—I can’t control myself whenever you’re around…”

And the feelings are mutual towards each other. You know how needy and submissive she can get whenever she’s in her vulnerable position and as much as you want her to strip teases you, you can’t help but take a glance and appreciate the beauty behind her glamorous outfit. 

“By the way, Minjeong, I don’t if I said this already but—” Minjeong’s puppy-like eyes was all in your sight, anticipating something that will come out of your mouth as you smile and caressed her hair. “—you look stunning and perfect in this outfit. I love it so much…”

As you were peppering her neck with more kisses of affection, she can’t help but moan and blush with your compliment, knowing how much you adored her look today.

“T-thank you—ahh, daddy. I’ve always wanted to be the most beautiful girl in your eyes whenever we meet. So I—ahh, always put effort on make-up—”

“Minjeong—” You move towards her, your face just inches closer to her as you tilt her chin, making her look up to you, dead in the eyes. “—there’s no other girl that’s more beautiful than you, alright? You’re my everything and everything that I need.”

Minjeong flashes that beautiful grin, her eyes almost half-lidded with the genuine smile she’s emanating, feeling the utmost adoration. She then stole a kiss with your lips and you immediately reciprocate with it, running your hands down her jacket and removing it off her arms as the other palms her stupendous curves of her waist while the kiss gets heated, riling up immediately to the tongue action that the both of you missed. While you were busy with your intimate kiss with Minjeong, she herself already got her dress off in a single, swift motion while you could only feel her dress brushing against your arms. She looked great on it but it would be better with it off her scrumptiously slender body so you didn’t care and continued the heat that was ignited earlier before you even got home.

“Daddy…”

“Yes?”

Minjeong slowly courses her hand on your abdomen and then, near your clothed crotch in which you instantly know what she wants but you still prefer to have it her way—she may want something else or more than what you’re thinking. 

“I need this inside me. Please, daddy…”

The way she pleads with her glistening orbs and her pouty mouth never fails to make you weak, and behind that pure countenance of hers is the lustful and wanton needs that should be attended immediately. You knew that this may happen before you even met her today and whenever she’s horny (especially when she’s with you), her heat can’t be stopped and must be fulfilled immediately or things will break loose. Loose in both ways, can either be good or bad but there’s nothing to worry about as the both of you heated up the atmosphere with another torridly intimate kiss.

While you’re busy pecking her beautiful lips, she swiftly ran her hands onto your stiffened rod and stroked it slowly, earning a subtle moan from your lips in which she smiled knowing how much it turned you on in an instant. She continued doing this for seconds until you stopped her, earning a small whimper and a cute sulk from Minjeong. With her panties now off, down to her ankles, you brushed your tip against her dripping folds, earning the sultriest moans escaping Minjeong’s mouth.

“Please, d-daddy—ahh! Fuck me like how I deserve it—”

“How do you think you deserve it, Minjeong, hm?”

She just whimpers uncontrollably within every oscillation your hips do, brushing so gently on her folds as she can’t think straight or anything articulate. Within every tease earns the mellowest of pleas that can absolutely make you give in to your deepest carnal desires but you resist, your iron will holding yourself up, dealing with your own dominant trait against Minjeong.

“L-like—daddy, ahh—uhm, l-like a g-good girl?”

You continue with your teases until you had enough and plunged your whole length immediately without even warning her—

“We’ll see about that, baby—but for now, you better take me like a good girl and I’ll—” You bring in a spank that marks an imprint onto that porcelain skin, making her cry and groan from the pain and from your leisure pace of thrusts. “—fill you up, okay? My poor little Minjeongie… So needy…”

Of course, you aren't just going to fuck her slow without doing anything more than that, so without wasting any time, you pull her into another hot kiss as immediately reciprocates. You’ll never get tired of tasting the succulent flavor of her lips as you were addicted to it right away—the feelings are mutual so it wasn’t really hard for Minjeong to comply and get into the same boat as you. Pulling out of the embrace of her lips on yours, she breathes heavily right after and so do you, catching air as your eyes wander around her smooth, pristine skin of her collarbones and neck. You didn’t hold back on your temptation as you immediately latched onto it, peppering it with multiple kisses that elevates the urge inside you on increasing the pace of your thrusts but you maintained your earlier composure, giving her your utmost intimacy with maximum pleasure and moderation. 

Minjeong’s moans are so heavenly, encapsulated with its own primal call and utmost adoration with how you’re treating her as it pumps the fuel of animalistic urges. It’s hard to maintain such a moderate pace whenever Minjeong pleads with her soft-toned voice and the lewdest sounds possible—you eventually feel yourself giving in, slowly intensifying your thrusts and you don't bother to slow it down.

 “Look at me, baby.” You said with all-seriousness and a demanding tone yet you know how Minjeong can’t really focus because of the peak pleasure she’s been experiencing that’s completely a sight to see, for you, at least. “Minjeong, look at me!” Another call and she responded yet without her eyes being full of tense and her breaths ragged as each thrusts is too much to take yet so enchanting to feel. 

And then, she slowly averted her glistening orbs, pupils dilating from anticipation as you muttered: “I’ll definitely fill you up to the hilt, okay?”

Your eyes ignite with lust as you groan in pain yet pleasure drives you onto your craziest cravings of desire, as you quickly follow up what you’ve said: “You like the thought of me painting your walls white, hm, Minjeong?”

She whimpers, biting her lip as she’s starting to lose herself because of so much pleasure. “I l-love—gahh-ahh—it, daddy! Please c-cum—gahh—inside m-me!”

Minjeong’s moans orchestrate such melodies that pleases your ears and further fuels your arousal, skyrocketing it up to the point every thrust you do inside her, you groan in tempo with it (your thrusts) and with how much her tight cunt clenches around your shaft just puts gasoline on the flames of lust. You didn’t let her catch a break as your pace finally wildens after like three minutes of a slow and steady one and you could feel the sudden spike of pleasure coursing down your veins. The view of Minjeong was the most erotic you’ve ever seen since earlier: her eyes alternating on being half-open to a full-closed one as you know how much those orbs anticipates and dilate in every thrust you do, her mouth in a shape of ‘O’ as she stick out her tongue, her face ahegao from the reckless treatments you’ve been doing to her, sweat dousing down her neck and onto the back, also down to her toned midriff and the cherry on top, her scrumptiously small mounds with her taut buds that further turns you on.

With a relentless pace being ensued by your hips, an ear-screeching sound escapes her lips as you pound her like an animal, chasing your very own high. With just the tip inside, almost withdrawing your whole length up to filling her up to the hilt is an exhilarating experience and this is probably the hottest sessions you’ve been in with her—maybe, you’re a bit biased now since you only think of just plowing her tight cunt until she see stars and the overstimulation from both parties doesn’t help with your articulate judgment.

“God—you’re tightness, baby—fuck… Since when did you get so tight?”

Of course, she can’t answer just immediately but rather, taking seconds because of the pleasure she’s experiencing. She doesn’t know if it’s a rhetorical or a genuine question but she didn’t care because she wanted to answer anyway.

“I don’t k-know, daddy—ahh! I’m j-just so—gahh, daddy! Just s-so tight ar—around you!”

Well, the feelings are just mutual—you can’t help yourself but get too hard whenever she seduces you and she knows it because she’s one of the multiple weaknesses you possess. Between the rapid movements of your hips, you take some time to look at her pristine features and run your hands to caress it while still maintaining your ruthless pace. She screamed followed by hurried moans that further ignited your animalistic spirit and permeated a blessing to this filthy atmosphere that is probably a nightmare for the neighbors to hear upon—and the last thing you want to hear knocking at your doorstep is a noise complaint from them.

Hearing Minjeong’s moans is angelic and erotic, and it’s even going to get hotter considering how she mewling about reaching her high sooner and you know that she can’t do anything about it, even if you commanded her to hold on and not to cum yet. You know that your princess requires her needs to be attended whenever possible, and you’ll treat her as one and a ear-deafening scream pursuits you to go faster and harder in her tight, little heated cavern as she pulls you into an embrace, her nails gripping your shoulders and almost leaving your skin scratched but you didn’t mind it.

She needs to cum and you’ll give it to her because she means everything to you and you’ll make her world rock with it. She deserves it, like the good, little servant she is for your cock and it’s just obvious because of how much her walls grip and hug around your stiffened member.

“Daddy, I’m g-going to c-cum…” Minjeong whines audibly between your thrusts and with the sight of this, you fuck her like an animal, helping to chase her orgasm sooner and to make her achieve the utmost bliss.

“I know, baby. Now cum.”

She doesn't hold back anything, screaming in delight as she lets out everything while still gripping you tightly with her hands as a leverage from the mind-boggling orgasm she’s having. With how much she creamed all over your raging length—her juices forming like a rivulet around your cock that it stained the bed sheets and god, you’re damn sure you need a new one after you’re done with her—you could tell how euphoric her orgasm was as you still fuck her through it, but with a moderate pace, you wanting to get onto your high too, and not just hers.

“You good, baby?”

“Y-yeah…” Minjeong weakly responded, her eyes a bit drowsy from the earlier orgasmic earthquake as she tries to recover from it. “Please c-cum inside me. Breed m-me—spill it all out i-inside my tight cunt…”

You’re fulfilling that, of course.

Even with her enervated state, she still looks hot as fuck and you can’t help but get more aroused with her ruined look. With your pace building up again, you grab onto her hips for an outlet of your own pleasure as her moans encourage you to get onto your high much faster. With tight feelings on your loins getting out of hand, you know it’s going to be achieved soon so you hammer her pussy with deep thrusts that rocks her world ultimately. 

Her wanton face never fails to make you on your knees and it’s about time to let it all out inside her. 

A wild groan and the burying of your whole length up to the hilt is just a signal of achieving paramount pleasure. She can feel it and lets out a faint moan and a whimper as you deposit all of your seed inside her, not wasting a single drop not buried deep in her cunt.With still the mere adequate will in your body, you thrust your hips, fucking your semen deeper in her and to chase your still orgasmic state. Minjeong’s sultry cadence brushes off your ears, finding a way to force you into oblivion yet you can’t take such more because of your sensitivity. Giving both of yourselves some space to recover and breathe, you slowly pulled out of her tightness, causing Minjeong to cry in need and satisfaction.

“God, daddy—y-you came in me… A l-lot—o-oh…” Minjeong smiles with the oozing semen coming out of her hole, grabbing a small sample and then tasting it, humming in satisfaction as she’s delighted to taste your delicious product.

“What c-can I say—you’re goddamn hot, Minjeong.”

It was never enough and you know it to yourself she deserves more. You’re still sensitive but the urge of ruining her pristine and god-like image is more than the definition of arousing—it’s monumental and probably an experience of a lifetime. Still with your unrivaled hardness, you can’t tell how you will not ruin her again with your cock as she senses it, smirking and luring you to another round of filthiness and she’s not far with that. 

“Such a slut for my cock, huh, baby?”

“You k-know me, daddy…”

Yes, you know her well and so are her limits. This was just the beginning of a spectacular show that you’re about to be into and it will be one hell of a night between the both of you. It’ll be a euphoric one, to that extent.

Being creative is a blessing in disguise, even in times like this even with your primal desires taking over you. You wanted variety as there’s more room to discover and to feel with her—experiment with her. Well, this wasn’t an experiment, but rather, you wanted to feel a different side of intercourse. As much as you want to see her beautiful face whenever you’re fucking her like an animal, you wanted it from behind, where you can achieve a different kind of pleasure and deeper penetration, which Minjeong utterly likes. You then commanded her to spin her figure around, get herself on all fours. She’s not naïve in these kinds of situation, being clever enough to do the rest—her ass up, face buried down the pillows

“Such a good girl for daddy, huh?” An obligatory spank on her bubble butt spices the atmosphere in the room, heat permeating the air as Minjeong’s moans add up to the concoction.

“I know you like it from behind—well now, you’ll get what you want, baby.”

This new profound position is a sensational experience and it’s literally everything you can dream of. Plunging your length deep inside her again, you groan with her tightness that rivaled any hole that she has—maybe even her walls gripping tighter than her ass, but that’s saved for another day. You painfully thrust inside her, moaning in unison as the pleasure is suddenly coursing down your veins, and hers and it’s hard to think straight with it. 

Clouded with the filthiest thoughts possible and the urge of bypassing the sensitivity you’re feeling, you didn’t start off slow but did the opposite—ensuing such a reckless pace like earlier. In each thrust you do, a spanks comes in every divisible of twos as Minjeong lets out a cry and a moan that further ignites the lust in you. Knowing you need an outlet to further have a greater grip in fucking her, your other hand reaches for her hair, making a makeshift ponytails and pull her head up, her back arched in order for those muffled moans be unshackled, letting your ears be blessed with those sinful moans escaping her beautiful lips.

“Daddy, y-you’re—ahh—t-too deep!!”

“And y-you’re too tight, baby—but I fucking love it!”

It’s not a complaint but rather a call of pleasure as the penetration was euphorically insane to take, for her, yet she loves it. You notice how much she’s spilling out her juices around your cock—and maybe even some of your semen leaking out—and by the sight of it, she’s definitely enjoying it as you continue fucking her cunt mercilessly.

She’s sensitive and vulnerable, bound to be broken and ruined within just merely a reasonable fraction of the power your hips ensues and yes, she’ll be a sullied mess after you’re done with her. She faintly moans after every spank you do, and a shrill from time to time, between your thrusts. You could tell that she’s about to reach her high again with the tight clenching of her pussy around your length, almost suffocating the life of it and the stream of her juices being the cherry on top.

“Daddy—I’m g-gonna cum ag—again—gahh!”

You lower down your head as your mouth is now inches away from her ears, whispering the words that breaks the reservoir inside her—“Cum for me, darling.”

And she didn’t hold back, again. It feels like she’s in an override as her thighs quiver from another mind-blowing orgasm that she’s letting out, streams and streams of her juices gushing out of her emanating heat and around your throbbing length. You kiss her nape and her shoulders while achieving her high, letting her know how much you love her and how much you’ll cherish every moment with her.

“I love you baby—yes, let it all out…”

“Gahh—uh-uh, daddy! Aren’t you g-gonna cum too?”

“Well, you don’t need to say that anymore, baby.”

Chasing your own orgasm too, you pick up the pace you’ve left earlier, bringing in the harshness of thrust as every oscillation brings in maximum pleasure on both parties. You’re too aroused to see her in this state, so you thought of venting every horny detail that you’ve been battling around your head to her.

“Damn, Minjeong—this pussy really deserves to be bred and used, isn’t it? You like milking my cock until my balls feel like raisins, hm? ‘Cause gosh—it’s really working and I’m going to breed this pussy until you’re leaking with my cum, do you under—stand?”

“Y-yes, daddy—breed y-your beautiful slut! Bree—”

With your energy invigorated and so is the serotonin running down your body, you shoot another thick load inside her, painting every inch of her walls full of your warm seed. With your unparalleled carnal desires, you still fuck yourself hard enough for her butt to jiggle as it resonates even up to her thighs. With multiple pecks and suckling onto the porcelain skin of her neck, you fuel your orgasmic state, wishing your orgasm to last longer but not all things are everlasting, hence, they all end in a good note.

With your high depleting down, off to a cliff, you pull out of her with a satisfied groan, admiring the mess you’ve made between her legs as your cock twitches on the arousing sight of her full-creamed pussy. You exchange arduous breaths to each other, exhausted from the steamy session you’ve been into. She turned around, her body laying flat on the bed as your sweaty bodies collide, inviting her into an embrace and for a warm cuddle that you always loved.

“Daddy, y-you came so m-much, again…” 

 “You know I can’t waste not even a single drop with you, baby.” You peck her forehead with a n affectionate kiss, making her hum in delight as she appreciates your little actions.

With all of the filthiness that had made the room a big mess, you invite her to clean up with her in the bathroom as she struggles a little, concern feigning all over your face.

“You good, Minjeong?”

“Y-yeah, I guess y-you wrecked my pussy too hard…”

“I’m sorry about that—” Minjeong quickly lays a finger on your mouth, silencing you from your continuous apology. She reassures you that everything’s fine as she wanted this anyway, to be totally sullied and ruined by you.

But sometimes, people love to risk going over the limit…

“Probably a round three in the shower, daddy?”

And there she goes, again…

[sweetlittlefawntears]

the grave ♱

au : i’m really upset cuz there’s like no good ghostface ellie fics … just ones where she kills ur entire family which is um. definitely interesting so i took it upon myself to write one hehehe i hope u all enjoy this one !

cw : fem reader x ghostface ellie, blood, murder, ellie is kinda a perv, panty stealing, breaking and entering, strap on sex, ellie is a bit degrading, slapping, (not hard), murder obviously but don’t worry i didn’t describe it in detail at all its just hinted at, intentional lowercase, that’s it i think uhhh …

wc : 2.5k ♡

౨ৎ ever since you moved into a new apartment in new york, you had been super scared to live all on your own. it was your first time living by yourself, just a freshly out of the house person making it through life and college in this huge city. and when there started being murders documented near your apartment building, you started to search for a roommate. you set up an ad on the bulletin in the front lobby of your apartment, and soon you were living with another girl who also attended the school you went to. your best friend dina had told you about her, and when you two met you instantly clicked. her name was ellie. ellie williams.

౨ৎ she was a very attractive 21 year old, with auburn hair that reached her shoulders, and eyes deep and green like sea glass. she had many tattoos, and was a deep and interesting person. but she had a secret. she was behind every murder that had happened in the past months. she loved seeing you scared over the thought that someone might be able to break into your now shared apartment and kill you or ellie, and she loved getting to be the one to comfort you.

౨ৎ every time you tried to talk to ellie out of going out at night, she brushed you off, insisting she’d be fine. truth was, she wasn’t really going to bars or the library or anything like the sort of what she told you. instead, she was plotting to kill her next victim. she didn’t just kill randomly. she killed people who were horrible. people who were sex offenders, people who hurt you…people who got too close to you…and more. she tried to not kill every night, as it made you too worried to be away from her for too long.

౨ৎ you kept up with all the murders, wanting to figure out who did them. however, you knew you really hadn’t the slightest chance, you didn’t even know where to begin. ellie thought it was so cute how obsessed you were with the person committing the murders. “you know, i used to think ghostface was hot until there was an actual fucking person playing ghostface where WE live.” you tell ellie one night. “oh my god, you watched the movies? you seriously think ghostface is hot?” ellie says as she looks up from the joint she’s smoking, pale smoke swirling and hazing in the air. “i said i used to think he was hot.”

౨ৎ ellie fooled herself that if you knew she was ghostface, you’d accept her for who she was. she just wanted to make people pay for the things they did to society. but she knew that was almost certainly not the case, no matter how bad she wanted it to be.

౨ৎ one night, before going out, ellie was snooping around your room. you were in the shower, softly humming to yourself, which ellie thought was so adorable that she was smiling to herself as she looked around your bed. she eyed a shelf filled with cubbies, all full of your folded clothes. she pulled the cubbies out until she found the one that had your underwear in it. she pulled out a pair of soft white cotton panties, with little cherries on them. she held them up to her face before shoving them in her back pocket. she continued to look around your room before picking up a small polaroid of you and dina. she kissed the polaroid of you before putting that in her pocket as well.

౨ৎ she walked over to your shared bathroom and knocked on the door. “yeah?” you half-shout, shampooing your hair as you peek around the curtain. “i’m heading out…” ellie says. “okay just, please be careful ellie!” you shout back before going back to your shower. ellie grabs her bag before walking down all 15 flights of stairs to get down to the lobby. it’s around 10:00 at night, and she’s plotted this murder for a while now. you had told her about a man who had assaulted you at a halloween party a year ago, and she wanted revenge on him.

౨ৎ she walked down the street, before slipping into an alley. she continued to walk backstreets, until she found the building where the man lived. she slipped into the apartment building, trying not to look suspicious. it was pretty late, and there was no one hanging around in the halls as everyone was on high alert of the murders. ellie slips into the man’s apartment and…well…you can guess what happens next.

౨ৎ the next morning, you wake up to ellie back home, already making you breakfast. you step out of your room, wearing cute small tight pink shorts with a lacy pink trimmed tank top. your frilly and cute socks on your feet tread lightly across the floor as you approach ellie. she loved the way you dressed. you looked like a cute innocent bunny. exactly the opposite of ellie.

౨ৎ ellie hands you a plate of toast, eggs, and bacon and you thank her before you two sit on the couch and turn on the news. you two watch the news, which had become a regular habit of yours to turn on. low and behold, the murder had obviously been reported and was being covered right now. you listen intently, hearing about how the man was found with over twenty stab wounds. “oh my god, i know him! he was a dick, though.” you say to ellie as you finish your breakfast. you take your and ellie’s plates to the sink before ellie speaks up. “hey, could you get me my phone from my room?” ellie asks, not thinking anything of this.

౨ৎ “of course.” you say as you walk over to ellie’s room, hair swinging as ellie stares at you whilst you walk into her room. you immediately see ellie’s bag on her bed. you walk over to her bed, looking for her phone as you see a knife sticking out of the pack. when you go to investigate further, you see that the knife is covered in dried blood. you open ellie’s bag to find a ghost face mask and more dried blood all over it. your mind starts racing. your roommate…? but, there’s no way. it couldn’t be her. it just couldn’t. you pick up the knife into your hand, turning it over and running your soft finger over the sharp blade. you don’t know how to feel. on one hand, you love ellie. but on the other…

౨ৎ ellie walks in. “hey, what’s taking you so…” she looks down at the bloody knife in your hands, and her eyes dash back up to your wide eyes. she’s speechless. “ellie…are you…” she quickly walks over to you. “i’m…this isn’t how i wanted you to find out, i…” she trails off, before grabbing your hand and gently but firmly pulling the knife out of your fingers. “ellie…i just…can you explain to me why?” ellie sighs and sits down on her bed before hiding her face in her hands. “i just…there’s a lot of bad people in this world bun, y’know? and so many of them deserve to be in jail but they aren’t, they…they have to be punished somehow.” she tried to explain through some slight sobs. “ellie…i..” you stutter, not sure how to respond. “i still love you, ellie.” you finally say after what felt like hours of silence. she looks up at you, eyes glassy. “are you serious?” she says, holding your forearm as your arm rests on her shoulder. “yes. yes, i am. i just, need some time to process this. but…i can look past it. i meant it when i said ghostface was hot.” you laugh, trying to relieve some of the tension.

౨ৎ the next night, ellie comes into your room. you’re sitting at in a little reading nook the was built into your apartment, with a view of the city from a window covered by a sheer white curtain. you’re sitting in the nook, curled up with a book. with she leans against the doorframe, looking at you. she smiles lightly to herself. “hey, ellie.” you say, looking up at her. though you knew she was behind the murders, you had come to terms with it. after all, she was doing it for a good cause…right?

౨ৎ she came over to you and put her hands on your shoulder. “hey bun.” she runs her hands over your arm, which makes you shiver. you shut your book before standing up to look at her. “not going out tonight?” you say as you look at her. she cups the side of your face. you look at her before deciding, fuck it. you kiss her, sloppily, which she loves. she takes your bottom lip into her teeth before biting softly on it. she pulls away, looking deep into your eyes. “are you sure you want this?” she says, still looking at you intently. “yes, ellie, just fucking kiss me…” you say as she pulls you in immediately.

౨ৎ her hands trail up behind you, rubbing your back with one hand while the other goes to cradle the back of your neck, still locking lips in a passionate kiss. she backs you onto the nook, sitting softly beside you, tracing her hand along your thigh, still locked in to the embrace. you would never admit that this was your deepest desire, kissing the person behind the ghostface mask. you were so obsessed with the case for a reason…you wanted to feel the person behind everything kiss you, feel their hands on you, making you theirs…

౨ৎ you felt ellie’s hands trace along your waist, as she slips them under your shirt to feel your soft skin on hers. “ellie..i want you so fucking bad.” you whisper into her ear as she bites and sucks on the skin around your neck. “shh…bun, i know…i know…” she says softly as she starts to take off your shirt. “this okay, pup?” she says as she reaches and tugs at the ends of your shirt. “yes.” you say softly as she swiftly pulls the shirt over your head before tossing it on the floor. she looks down at your bare skin. “no bra…?” she says, slightly surprised. “i’m at home, why would i need to wear one?” you say, rolling your eyes. ellie starts to kiss your neck as she rubs one of your sensitive and soft nipples between her fingers. you whimper softly as she pulls at the tender bud. she helps you move so you sit with your back to her chest, as she trails her hand down into your shorts. she slips them off before rubbing your cunt through your lacy cotton panties. “fuck, bun, i’ve barely touched you and you’re so fucking wet…bend over for me.” you immediately do as you’re told, bending yourself over onto the little nook, ass up in the air like a dog. you bury your face into a soft pink fluffy pillow shaped like a heart.

౨ৎ “goddamn, i wish you could see yourself right now, so fucking pretty, all ready for me.” she trails her hands down your sides before smacking your ass, leaving a burning pinkish hand print on the side of you. she palms and gropes at your thigh and ass, wanting to feel up every part of of you. “shit, baby…” she says as she unzips her pants, pulling out her strap. “shit- g’na fuck this pussy so good-” she says as she grabs a knife from her jeans, cutting off your panties before throwing them on top of her jeans. those were definitely now hers. she drags the blade across your thigh, not enough to cut, but enough to make you whimper. “i wanna fucking mark you up so bad.” she says as she drags the blade a bit deeper, letting little beads of blood pill on the knife. “ellie-!” you scream out as she drops the knife and rubs the blood around on your thigh. “fuck, baby, you’re so goddamn beautiful.” she brings her bloody hand up to her mouth before tasting your blood on her fingertips.

౨ৎ she grabs your ass before sliding herself into you. “you okay, baby?” she says as she starts to speed up her movements slightly. you barely mutter out a “yes” before she starts to speed up, thrusting into you, hitting the back of your gummy walls. you moan out ellie’s name like prayer. you hear her fucking you, the sound of your wetness and her soft grunts and moans fill the room. your mind is absolutely blank, only focusing on how good ellie is making you feel. she places a few soft kisses down your back. “you’re taking me so fucking well, fucking small pussy just begging to get fucked, huh?” ellie smiles to herself.

౨ৎ you felt her thighs brush against the back of your legs, fucking you just roughly enough to make you feel amazing. ellie’s hand shoved the back of your head into the pillow you were cradling. “i was gonna go easy on you, but since you don’t seem to be complaining…” she keeps up her movements inside you. “ah- ellie! i...im-” you moaned out, not being able to stifle your cries. you felt your neglected puffy clit cry out as ellie moved her hand to rub the sensitive bundle of nerves, kissing your back. as your milky white cum poured over her strap, she thrusted a few more times before pulling out of you. if you weren’t absolutely fucked out of your mind, you would’ve been embarrassed your roommate saw you like this, ass up in the air, cunt dripping and wet. as she helped you up onto your bed, pulling up a fresh pair of underwear on you and helping you put back on your shirt, she caressed your thigh where there was a scab forming over the small slit where she cut you.

౨ৎ “i’m sorry bun- i just, kinda got lost in the moment-” she said before you cut her off. “shut up, i fucking loved that. next time can we do it with the mask on?” you smile at her. “so i did a good job?” she says, like she wasn’t just rearranging your guts and making you scream and tear up just a few minutes ago. ellie gets up and brings you some water before you two cuddle each other.

౨ৎ “so…you wanna keep doing this then?” she says as she kisses your forehead. murderer or not, ellie was in your life no matter what.

♡ hai so basically this def didn’t turn out how i wanted oh well even tho i proofread there’s probably still mistakes sorry … i’m trying desperately to not make ellie sound like a stone cold fucking man during sex i’m really sorry bro it’s hard tbh i wanna make her dominant but also not afraid to moan and praise u when ur fucking help me 😭 i hope u all enjoy man i lowkey dipped my balls into this srsly ♡

[munsonsmixtapes]

Idea: reader catches Steve and Eddie making out and join the fun. *reader is very dom, if possible* thanks for being amazing as always ❤️

It's funny because I was actually doing another steddie x reader fic so this was perfect timing.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) anal, masturbation, voyeurism

All the lights are off when you enter the Harrington home which is odd considering that Steve’s car and Eddie’s van are both sitting in the driveway. The living room where you usually watched your movies together was empty and so was the kitchen where it wasn’t uncommon to find the two of them, especially later in the evening after they’ve shared a joint. 

You sigh and head up the stairs to Steve’s room, wondering where the hell your friends are. You know on the door but there’s no answer. You continue to knock but nothing’s happening and have no idea what’s going on. You reach for the door knob and find that the door is unlocked so you slowly open it and peek your head in, letting out a gasp at the sight before you. 

Eddie is on top of Steve and they’re kissing like this definitely isn’t their first time. Steve’s hands are pushing up Eddie’s shirt and it’s off in the blink of an eye. 

This doesn’t surprise you in the slightest. You’ve always noticed the attraction between them and wouldn’t be surprised to find out that they do this all the time. You’re just kind of disappointed that they didn’t ask you to join. The three of you always do everything together. 

You turn to leave, feeling weird about walking in on them and just when you think you haven’t been caught, Eddie speaks up. 

“Hey, don’t go,” he says, grabbing your hand. You turn around and they’re looking at you with those brown eyes you can never say no to. God you’re weak. 

“Yeah, join us,” Steve says, as he pats the bed next to him. This isn’t at all what you thought they meant, but who are you to decline a make out session with two of the hottest men you’ve ever seen? You instead sit on the end of the bed and they both crawl to you, sitting on either side of you. 

You feel like you should feel nervous considering that they’re your best friends and all, but you’re not. Not in the slightest. In fact, the whole thing excites you, especially because of how quick they were to invite you to join in on their fun. It makes you feel even closer to them than you have before. 

You turn to one and then the other, your hands finding their way to their thighs. You turn to Eddie and give him a smile before leaning in towards him and he’s quick to respond, his hands cupping your cheeks as his lips find yours. This kiss is nothing but sweet and gentle just like Steve and as much as you enjoy the way his lips feel, you pull away, wondering what Steve has in store for you. 

You turn towards him and his lips press against yours firmly. You take exactly what it is that you want from him as he’s pliant with your movements, his lips moving hungrily against yours as your tongue flicks against his bottom lip. He opens up no questions asked and as he moans as the feeling of your tongue swirling around his, you suddenly feel bad for excluding Steve. 

You pull away to see Eddie watching intently with his hand down his pants. His eyes widen and lips part as he stares at you. He’s clearly embarrassed by being caught, but you don’t care. In fact, you’re flattered. You take his hands from his pants and pull it out, seeing that it’s already covered in cum. You make eye contact with him as you lick the stuff from his hand, wanting a taste for yourself. He whines as he watches and you feel Steve hovering over your shoulder, wanting to not miss out on any of the action. 

You lick up what’s left then lower yourself onto the floor in front of him. Your hands hover over his belt buckle and you look up at him with the most innocent look on your face. Eddie seems very into what’s happening, but you still feel like you should ask for permission before you continue. 

“Do you want to fuck me, Eddie?” You ask and your tone is part teasing and part flirty. Eddie seems to be into it because he’s nodding furiously, already undoing his belt buckle and you can’t help but notice the bulge in his pants. He strips in record speed and you turn to Steve, feeling like you owe him something as well. 

“Undress me?” You ask, batting your eyelashes and Steve’s unbuttoning your cardigan before you can even finish your sentence. He does it so slowly, peppering your chest with kisses as he does so, moving to the spot between your tits as he unhooks your bra, pulling back just in time to watch your bra fall to the floor. You tits are now on full display, your nipples hard as ever and he feels his mouth watering as he finds himself wanting to have his way with them. 

And that’s exactly what he does before he can think about it for a second longer. His mouth latches onto your nipple, licking and sucking on it and you gasp at the sudden movement. You lean into him as you feel your body going limp as you grab onto him. You momentarily forget about Steve, so focused on how good Steve is making you feel. His other hand reaches up and massages your other tit so it gets some attention and you can tell that this definitely isn’t his first time. He’s done this more times than he can count. You’re sure of it.

“Oh my god,” you moan, your head leaning back, your hands scratching down his back underneath his shirt to show him just how much you’re enjoying what he’s doing to you. And just when you feel like your brain is melting, his teeth grab into your nipple, biting down on it and that’s when you orgasm, reaching your peak in record speed.

He bites down harder with every moan and pulls your nipple out of his mouth with a loud pop once he’s sure you can’t anymore. He then pushes you down onto the bed and removes your jeans and panties. 

“She’s all ready for you, Eddie. Isn’t that right, honey?” He smiles down at you with a devilish grin and you return it. 

“So ready,” you nod and Eddie moves to get on top of you but you push him so his back is flat against the mattress. His eyes widen at your dominance but he’s eating it up. He’s always loved seeing your bossy side and he’d really love to see how it comes into play in the bedroom. If there’s one thing Eddie loves, it’s being a good boy. 

“I’m on top,” you tell him as you straddle his waist. 

“Yes ma’am,” he salutes you and you shake your head, putting his hand down. 

“Don’t do that,” you shake your head. 

“Yes ma’am.”

“Condom?” You ask, turning to Steve then immediately turn back to Eddie who’s looking up at you like you’ve hung the moon. You’ve only kissed him and he’s wrapped around your finger. Steve hands you the condom and you open the packet with your teeth before rolling the thing onto Eddie. You then settle yourself on top of him, wanting to feel all of him inside you. You want to absolutely ruin him and you think he just might let you. 

You dive straight in, riding him hard and fast as you watch him underneath you, coding undone as his eyes flutter shut. You know for a fact that this isn’t his first time, but it almost seems like it is with the way he’s behaving. He has no idea where to put his hands and you take them in yours, placing them on your hips. 

His hips buck against yours and he’s pushing himself inside you even more, his entire cock taking up space. Steve moves behind you, grabbing onto your hips, making you move even faster, Eddie absolutely losing his shit underneath you. He’s eating up every part of this and isn’t entirely sure how long he can hold on. 

“Doing so good, baby. Such a good boy for me, hm?” He just nods, unable to form any words because he feels like his brain is rapidly melting. You look like an angel on top of him, your body so perfect in his eyes that he wishes he had the ability to make a statue of you. Beauty like yours deserves to be admired.

“That’s it, honey,” Steve coos and you’re sure who he’s talking to, but either way, you’re loving the nickname. He continues to help you ride Eddie as his lips find their way to your neck. It’s gentle kisses at first but eventually he’s licking and sucking on the skin. Between that feeling and riding Eddie, hearing his moans mixing with your own, the whole thing is so overstimulating, but you don’t dare stop. You can’t. They both seem to know exactly what you want and you’re loving every second of it. 

Steve’s hard cock presses against your back as he continues to create a hickey on your neck. You go limp in his arms, but he’s not having that. His lips part from your skin and helps you sit up, placing your hands on Eddie’s shoulder, moving your hips back and forth against Eddie’s.

“Nope,” he shakes his head. “Can’t go dumb on me before he’s even come.” You focus and continue to fuck Eddie, getting your energy back and using all of your force to fuck him as hard and as fast as you can. You watch Eddie orgasm underneath you, the prettiest moans falling from his lips and you talk him through it, reminding him how good of a boy he is. 

You get off of him and clean him up, letting him come down from his orgasm as you let Steve have his way with you. 

“How do you feel about anal?” You ask and Steve’s eyes widen. He’s done a lot of things, but anal isn’t one of them. Well, not with a woman. Eddie’s the only person he’s done it with, but he’s honestly down for whatever. Just like Eddie, he’s always down to be your good boy. 

“I’m down for whatever,” he shrugs and begins to undress. Once all his clothes are off, he reaches into his bedside table for a bottle of lube. He rubs it all over his cock and climbs onto the bed where you’re already on all fours. 

“Don’t go easy on me,” you command. Steve nods even though you can’t see him and grabs onto your hips, pushing his cock in and out of your ass as hard as he can.

You’re facing Eddie so he has a front row seat and he’s already on his knees in front of you. He watches Steve fuck you from behind and he thought he would feel jealous watching Steve do something that Eddie had done to him more times than he could count, but he’s actually so entertained by what’s happening in front of him. 

“Fuck, Steve,” you moan loudly as he fucks you fast and hard, one of his hands moving up to massage your tit while the other digs into your hip. You don’t why you already feel like you’re close while simultaneously like you could go to sleep. This never happens to you. You can usually hold out for multiple orgasms. Your hands dig into the bedding underneath you eventually orgasm over and over as you fight to not go stupid on Steve. 

“Don’t think she can take any more,” Eddie tells Steve, looking at your face. 

“No,” you shake your head, fighting to not sound drunk. “I’m good.”

“You’re slurring,” Steve corrects as he pulls out then gets off the bed. “Now c’mon. Eddie, let’s get her to the shower and we can all clean up.”

Eddie picks you up and carries you to Steve’s bathroom, Steve following behind. He gets the water started and Eddie sets you down so he can gather towels for the three of you. 

“Aright, but next time, I’m fucking you in the ass.”

“Sounds like a deal,” he replies with a laugh as he presses a kiss to your forehead. 

The three of you fit into Steve’s shower and clean each other up between kisses and eventually making messes of each other to the point where you have to start over again. After what seems like hours, you all get out and change before going your separate ways, but not before agreeing to do the same thing tomorrow. And as you get in your car, you’re already counting down the minutes.

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

okay, here it is. oh my god, i don't know how this happened, but it just flowed out, and especially given it's supposed to be the first time, i wanted it to flow without feeling rushed. i hope it's not too long and that you like it!! thanks so much for reading!

(goes without saying given the content, but do NOT interact if you're a minor!!)

Remus x Reader x Sirius

request: 5. first time, 16. threesome, 29. anal/rimming with Sirius and Remus

word count: 4.1k (not completely proofread, sorry, wrote it all tn)

link to prologue!

The responding silence is suffocating. 

Squirming, not looking at either of them, you whisper, “Is that weird?” 

At your seeming upset, they both immediately come closer to you, comforting you on instinct.

“No, baby, not at all,” says Sirius. Great — Sirius calling you baby would definitely be replaying in your head later. 

Remus inches the slightest bit closer to you, eliminating any distance left between you. Hesitantly, he reaches for your hand. Once it’s in his, his thumb caressing the back of it, he speaks. 

“You know…” 

You look up at him. His eyes bore into yours, but after a moment, you’re surprised to see his shoot to Sirius’s.

“If you wanted…” he continues, eyes traveling between the two of you. 

“I mean I would be into…” He keeps trailing off, and you honestly don’t know where he’s going with it. The same doesn’t seem true of Sirius, whose eyebrows have sprung up in surprise and seeming interest.

Remus clears his throat once then musters the courage to continue, “The three of us could… you know…” He nods between the two of you. “If you wanted,” he tacks on, much more quickly. 

It hits you like jumping into a freezing pool. 

You look from one to the other and back; they are staring intently at you, hanging on your next words, sparing the occasional glance at each other. 

You nod, your body reacting before your words. They both lean in, absorbed but unsure, and when you whisper a soft “okay…,” you feel a collective exhale of relief emanate as if from all three of you at once.

Remus’s eyebrows shoot up; his mouth opens. Sirius’s distinctive smirk sneaks slowly onto his face. You bite your lip, the corners of your lips edging upward. 

“You both want to?” you ask them. 

“Definitely” and “Fuck yes” you hear simultaneously. 

“How… how do we…?” You’re not quite sure how or even what to ask. 

“We can figure it out, yeah?” Sirius smiles. “Just talk it through as we go. We’re pretty good at that,” he chuckles proudly. 

Nodding, laughing from both excitement and nerves, Remus adds, “Why don’t we start by going to a bed?” 

You and Sirius nod, and the three of you rush into Sirius’s bedroom. 

You’re all three awkwardly standing at the foot of the bed. You laugh and cover your face with your hands. Each of them grabs one of your hands and pulls them down. 

“No hiding, beautiful,” whispers Sirius, coming close to you and… not stopping. His eyes widen in question, and when you nod, he brings his lips to yours softly. 

It’s only soft for the first taste, however. Soon it’s hungry and moaning. His hand clasps your face, and his cold rings — among other sensations — send shivers down your body. 

As soon as you’ve found a rhythm, it feels like, he’s pulling off you. You open your eyes and see Remus tugging Sirius’s shoulder with one hand, his other still holding yours. Sirius chuckles darkly and moves aside slightly. Without ado, Remus devours your mouth. 

You feel his arms come around your hips, pulling you close, and you moan into him. Remus moans back, but it’s Sirius who whispers, “Fuuck.” You both look at him, three grins blooming at the sight of the other two. 

“C’mere,” Sirius goes on and, taking both of you by the hand, he pulls the three of you onto the bed, kneeling facing each other. 

They take turns making out with you. All three of you have started shedding your outermost layers of clothes.

“Can we take this off, love?” Remus whispers hoarsely, pulling apart from your lips, tugging on your top. You nod heavily, already drunk on your lust. He pulls it over your head, leaving you in your bra. His hands immediately knead your breasts. 

“Fuck, you’re incredible.” He keeps kissing you, kneading you, then works his mouth down your jaw, your neck. Your eyes are closed, immersed in the pleasure, but you register the sound of a zipper on the other side of you. You peak at Sirius, who’s quickly discarding his trousers, a huge bulge now visible in his pants. 

Remus pulls the cup of your bra down and sucks your nipple. You yelp in shocked pleasure. Sirius’s responding chuckle is dark and hungry.

“Alright, Rem, you’re not the only one who’s been dreaming of her tits, mate.” He walks on his knees across the bed closer to you, now clad only in his pants. “I thought you were the one who was good at sharing,” he jokes. 

Remus is sporting a shit-eating grin at his best mate’s antics, and you can tell he’s glad the three of you are falling into your usual rhythms… despite your unusual activity. 

Smirking, his face still nuzzling your chest, he replies, “There’s two; we don’t have to share, idiot.” Sirius barks a laugh at this and wastes no time pulling down the other bra cup. 

First he lets his eyes drink in the sight of you, his hand groping you, playing with you. He watches Remus licking at your other nipple with enthralled eyes. He looks at your face and keeps eye contact as he bends down and rolls his tongue all around your free nipple. Your body literally shakes at the contact and the sight before you. 

Both of them chuckle at this, and they share a mischievous, self-satisfied look, but neither lets up on mouthing at you. You bring your hands up and entwine one in each of their hair, scratching at their scalps and pulling them impossibly closer. 

Remus unclasps your bra, and they detach only long enough to slip it off. 

Sirius is teasing you, nipping lightly then biting with focused teeth. Remus gets rougher, sucking you harshly. You’re whimpering loudly; they’re moaning into your chest.

Then Sirius licks up your sternum and neck, sucks momentarily on your earlobe, then whispers there, “‘M gonna take these off now, sweetheart.” He tugs at your waistband. “That okay?” 

You nod vehemently, and his grin takes up its now seemingly permanent place on his face. 

Remus pulls off you and begins shifting out of his own clothes while Sirius undoes your button and zipper. You shimmy out of the the trousers. All three of you are now matchingly only in pants, and neither of them can help but palm at their prominent erections. 

You don’t even know where to start, wanting to do too many things at once, so you just look back and forth between them. At the sight of their nearly naked bodies and their entirely rapt expressions, you literally feel your wetness oozing out of you. You unthinkingly rub your thighs together, and both pairs of eyes in front of you immediately shoot down toward the movement.

Sirius shuffles over and gets behind you; Remus comes close in front. 

Sirius pulls your hair aside and starts mouthing at your neck. One hand playing with your hair, the other wrapping around you and playing roughly with your breasts.

Both of Remus’s hands come around you, groping your arse and pulling your body to his. He starts kissing you, his tongue eager against yours. 

Your hands take turns exploring in front of you and behind. Pulling their hair, tracing their muscles and scars, squeezing their bare skin. 

Remus moves to your neck as well, and it’s deliciously too much having them there, one on each side. 

Wandering hands reach between your legs. You’re not sure which of them it is until Sirius remarks, “Fucking hell you’re wet. You’ve completely soaked through your knickers, baby.” He cups your heat, and there’s a quiet squelching sound. 

You just moan affirmatively in response, overwhelmed and wanting all at once.

“You feel so good,” you say. “Feel so fucking good…”

“Yeah, baby,” Sirius responds into your ear, still mouthing at your neck. “We’re going to make you feel so fucking good. We haven’t even come close yet.” You whimper at his words.

Remus’s strong hands come to your hips and guide you down. You let him manipulate your body without resistance, your muscles already feeling relaxed and weak. He pulls your knickers off you. 

For a fraction of a moment, you worry you’ll feel too vulnerable exposed like this in front of them. But when you see their faces, drowning in looking at you, you feel the opposite.

You open your legs wider at the sight of them staring intently at you, and it drives them mad. Remus’s eyes and head roll back, his bottom lip bitten harshly to hold back a moan; Sirius’s hands immediately shoot down, one pulling his pants off, the other stroking his ready member roughly. 

They look at each other then at you. 

“Do you want us to…” Remus starts but stops, looking between you and Sirius. “What if we…” he begins again, looking around your bodies excitedly, but he doesn’t finish his proposition. Sirius just squints at him in anticipation. You lean up on your elbows, looking up at them.

“Do you like anal?” Remus finally blurts at you, with less aplomb than he probably intended. He winces slightly at his lack of poise.

“I…” you start but choke on your words.

“It’s okay if you don’t,” he follows quickly, eyes wide. “I was just thinking about how we could do it. That way we could both… you know —” he nods down at your crotch then at his “— at the same time.” Your eyes widen exaggeratedly at the suggestion. 

You’d never had a threesome before, less of all been penetrated doubly. 

“Whatever you want!” he yells at your terrified look, his hands coming up in a conciliatory gesture. “Whatever you want, of course,” he repeats more calmly. 

Sirius is quiet, transfixed, looking between you, waiting anxiously. 

You think about it for a moment, sitting up. 

“I…” you start again. 

“Hey, hey,” Remus’s voice is much gentler now, his hand caressing your face. “If you don’t want to do anything else, that’s fine. Obviously.”

“No, it’s not that.” You grab his hand and kiss it gently. “I don’t want to stop. I just have never… done… that. So, I’m nervous is all.”

“We’ll take it slow. Get you ready first. And if you don’t like it — any of it — you just tell us, and we stop, yeah?” He looks over his shoulder for back up, and Sirius is easily agreeing with everything he says. You nod slowly. 

“Okay. I want to. I really want to.” The last sentence comes out more of a whine as you look back and forth between them. “Just take it slow, yeah?”

“‘Course, darling, of course.” Remus kisses your forehead then pecks your lips. “Let’s work our way up,” he whispers, more teasingly again, and you feel his hand snake up your inner thigh from your knee up to your soaking folds. “Lay back, love. Relax. Just talk to us, yeah? Whatever you like.” 

Nodding, you look back toward Sirius and see him still watching you, his hand on his cock but stroking only very slowly. He leans in at your eye contact and kisses you ardently. You hold his face to you and pour yourself into his kiss. 

Remus’s fingers begin teasing your folds, moving slowly up and down, gathering your wetness, putting more pressure toward the top. Getting your clit nice and wet, he starts rubbing circles there, and you moan into Sirius’s mouth. Sirius chuckles and sucks on your bottom lip, releasing it with a pop, and looking down at Remus’s ministrations.

He kisses down your chest and begins mouthing at your tits as Remus continues massaging your cunt. 

With Sirius sucking and licking at your nipples, you buck into Remus’s large hand. He pushes his palm against you addictively then works a long finger toward your entrance. 

Slowly and steadily, he pushes in. You’re so wet and turned on that he’s met with no resistance. On the contrary, your cunt seems to suck his finger in, and you hear him moan “fucck” as he pushes in two fingers instead of one. 

Sirius leans back and watches Remus’s hand. A loud wetness sounds in the quiet room as Remus picks up his pace. Sirius brings his hand down too and rubs circles on your clit as Remus fingers you. Your back arches in pleasure, and as they continue, it doesn’t take long for you to feel the familiar tingles of an approaching orgasm. 

You nod ardently and clutch the sheets beside you. 

“Please, please, please,” you whimper. “I’m close.”

Remus puts a third finger in and curls them perfectly as he does; Sirius rubs harder and slightly faster; you cum hard. 

You let out a strangled sounding yell of pure pleasure, and they keep up their movements until you’re shivering. They slow down but keep touching you. 

Sirius looks from your soaked cunt to your face and pleads, “I want to eat you out.”

You moan and nod, an aftershock of excitement shooting through you at the mere thought of it. 

He shifts down, getting comfortable between your legs. Remus shuffles up, pulling your top into his lap. Watching Sirius intently, he plays with your hair, your tits, any part of you he can reach and caress. 

Sirius licks a slow, thorough stripe all the way up your folds, swirling his tongue at your clit. 

“Oh my god! Fuck!” you shiver. 

He moans into your cunt, exploring. He’s slow but puts perfect pressure. He sucks on your lips and licks into your entrance. 

Once he has your thighs shaking and your breath panting, he looks comes up for air and gruffly tells you, “You taste —” he gives another lick “absolutely incredible, baby.”

It’s Remus who responds, “Fuuuck.” Your eyes shoot toward him, and he looks almost pained from how turned on he is. 

Sirius chuckles, watching Remus. 

“C’mere. You have to taste her,” he invites. Remus immediately shifts. He’s gentle laying you down next to him but quick and harsh positioning himself so that his face hovers over your cunt. He’s almost forehead to forehead with Sirius, upside down from your perspective. 

His hips are next to your head, and you reach over and grab his still-clothed bulge. He shakes in response and looks down at you with lidded eyes. Quickly, he pulls his pants off then gets back in position. You begin stroking him slowly, and low whimpers escaping his mouth, he connects it with your lower lips. He licks and sucks enthusiastically.

He’s faster than Sirius. Not better or worse, just different. From the moment they put their mouths on you, you’ve been fascinated to get to know their individual quirks, to feel them explore you, each in their own way. You want to explore their bodies, too, but it’s all too much right now, and if their throbbing erections have anything to suggest about it, you’ll have another chance.

When Remus reaches your clit next, sucking slightly, you suddenly feel another tongue at the opposite end of your folds. Sirius licks around your entrance, and both of them eating you out at once is the best sensation you’ve felt probably ever.

They develop a rhythm with each other, both pleasuring you, but as you watch, Sirius keeps licking up further than your cunt to where his face meets Remus’s. He brings his tongue to Remus’s lips, not pushing it until the other man reacts. Without hesitation, Remus sucks Sirius’s tongue into his mouth. It’s hard to say who’s moan is louder. 

They start making out right above your heat, and you’re surprised at how incredibly hot you find it. 

They continue passionately, and Sirius, not breaking apart from Remus, reaches down and rubs you as they kiss. Remus works his way down Sirius’s defined jaw, his mouth exploring the other man’s neck. Sirius looks at you and shoots you wink. You smile back and bite your lip again, thoroughly enjoying the show.

You’re curious to see how they’ll react when they break apart. They do but keep their faces close, staring into each other’s eyes, each gauging the other’s reaction. 

“Wasn’t really expecting that to happen,” Remus confesses. 

“Glad it did?” Sirius asks, he’s characteristically playful, but you — and you’re sure Remus too — can hear a slight nerve under the surface.

In response, Remus simply grabs Sirius’s face between his hands and pulls him back to his lips for a short but delicious kiss. When it ends, Sirius’s expression is a mixture of love-struck and puppy dog. 

They turn, grinning, back toward you, and you sit up, pull them close and kiss them continuously. 

Soon, Remus whispers for you to turn around. Unsure but completely trusting him, you do. His hands guide your body until you’re on your hands and knees with them behind you. 

“We’re gonna work you open a bit, yeah?” he asks gently. “So it doesn’t hurt.” Looking behind you, you nod at them. 

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but Remus’s mouth on your arsehole was definitely not it. You jump in response, and he has to hold your hips to keep you in place, but the expression on his face when you turn effuses how amused he is at your reaction, and how enthusiastic he is at his current position. 

His large hands come to your arsecheeks and spread them wider. His tongue circles your ring of muscle playfully several times before dipping in the slightest bit. 

He continues working your hole diligently, and you can feel his mouth on you as you feel the weight of the bed shift. You look under you and see Sirius shuffling underneath Remus. Remus separates from you momentarily and straddles Sirius. Sirius shimmies up until his face is directly below your cunt. 

They share a heated look. Remus leans down, kisses Sirius quickly, then reattaches himself to his previous attentions. Sirius leans up and starts eating you out. It’s indescribable.

You start riding his face in earnest, and each time you bounce down onto his eagerly waiting mouth, you bounce back into Remus’s on the way up. Before you know it, Remus is tongue-fucking you easily. 

He continues a few moments, his swirling tongue making you squirm, then he kneels up and brings his hand to your now-weeping hole. You slow your movements to help his. 

He brings his hand to his mouth but stops, a dark and delightful look appearing on his face. He instead brings his fingers to Sirius’s mouth, who happily obliges. Sirius sucks Remus’s fingers until they’re perfectly wet. 

Remus works his finger into your arsehole ever so slowly, moving it around after you’ve adjusted to it. He continues opening you up, Sirius aiding him by continuing to rub your clit. They keep at it until Remus can add a second finger, and more and more pleasure continues until a third barely, tightly fits as well. 

Remus retreats from you, and you turn a bit more toward them. 

“You ready?” he asks. 

“Yes,” you respond easily. You’re still nervous, but you trust them both entirely, and you’re extremely curious to know what it will feel like. You’re already incredibly surprised at how good the mere preparation felt.

“You wanna slide up?” Remus asks Sirius, and Sirius eagerly does so, quickly reaching in his bedside table before sliding under you. You straddle him easily and smile down at him. 

“Hi,” you tease, and laughing, he leans up and kisses you hard. 

“Hi, beautiful,” he says. His hands come to your hips, aligning you with his. “Ready?” You nod.

He hands one of the condoms he just grabbed to Remus then opens and slides the other onto himself.

You let him guide you onto his cock. One of his hands guides it in; the other soothingly massages your hip as you go lower, his cock going deeper and deeper. 

Once he bottoms out, you rest  your hands on his chest for balance and squeeze your cunt around him. He moans lewdly and kisses you again. 

“It’s even better than I imagined,” he tells you with his mouth still teasing yours. He lays back down and starts moving slowly.

Letting you adjust and control the pace, Sirius follows your lead until you're bouncing on his cock, each time coming up to his tip then sliding back down his shaft.

His eyebrows are furrowed in passionate pleasure, and his grip on your hips is bruising. You’re sure he’s squeezing so hard to keep his composure and slow pace. 

Remus’s hand comes to the small of your back, and you still. He’s kneeling behind you and shifting closer.

You feel the head of his cock nudge at your second hole. 

“Tell me if it hurts, okay? Or if you don’t like it. No pressure, my love.” You turn to him with adoration in your lust-filled eyes and nod. He nods back, smiling sweetly, then looks down at his cock. 

He starts pushing in, slowly, slowly. 

You choke on a moan, and he stops immediately, waiting. You nod again, and he continues steadily. 

You feel Sirius’s cock twitch inside you, and your body jerks in response, clenching. 

Both boys gasp at the tightness, Sirius letting out a sweet “fuck” and Remus elongating a gruff moan as he pushes the rest of the way in. 

“Fucking hell,” he exhales when he has. “Fuck, it’s incredible.” 

“You move a little first, mate,” Sirius says. 

“Yeah, right.” Then at you, “Nice and slow, sweetheart. Y’alright?” 

“Yes,” you whine, fulling so insanely full. “It’s a lot, but it’s so good. Shit.” The sensation is overpowering. You can’t fathom how you can feel so much.

At your encouraging words, Remus begins thrusting ever so slightly. It’s tight at first, the slightest burning sensation teasing at the pleasure. 

Sirius feels your cunt clench, and though it feels incredible for him, he knows you’re feeling a lot right now. He tries to relax you further by massaging your hips. Then he leans forward and sucks on your tits. The sensation shoots warm pleasure down your body. He moans encouragingly. 

Remus slowly picks up his pace. His strong hands hold and massage your arse. He’s panting already, and you can tell it’s taking a lot of focus for him to hold back. 

“You can move a bit more. It feels good,” you tell him. He does. 

Remus and Sirius work you slowly and deliciously, so steady that you can’t pinpoint the moment Sirius began thrusting again as well. 

He lays his head back down as he goes faster. 

Both of their cocks spear in and out of you, and you’re moaning and yelping and panting at the overwhelming sensation. 

They establish a rhythm, with each other more than with you. You’re simply caught in the middle, letting the motions guide your body and thoroughly enjoying the ride. 

“I can —” Sirius begins. “Fuck!” he yells. “Fuck, yes.” He takes a deep, steadying breath. His hips never slow though his voice does. “I can feel your cock inside too, Rem.” 

“Yeah,” Remus pants. “Me too. Fuck.”

By now, they’re both pounding into you in earnest. Your holes pull them in; your screams echo in their ears.

“Shit, I’m so close; I’m so close,” pants Sirius. Remus starts nodding fast, his eyes tightly shut. 

Sirius plants his feet on the bed on either side of Remus’s thighs and fucks up into you forcefully. The slight change to what had become a delicious, building rhythm has your thighs shaking, your holes clenching, your core tightening. 

Sirius cums first, yelping hoarsely. You ride him hard, grinding your clit on his pubic bone as he keeps thrusting into you, and you push yourself over, your yells echoing his. 

Your legs start to slow, quickly turning into jelly, but Remus grips you tighter and fucks into you even harder. A few thrusts later, he doubles over on top of you, his forehead resting on your back, and his cock slowly softening inside you. 

Everything feels warm and heavy. Loud panting, at three slightly different rhythms, fills the room. You can feel Remus’s breath on your back, can feel Sirius’s on your neck. 

Remus kisses you where his face rests against you then pulls out. You collapse sideways onto the bed. Both boys discard the full condoms then, equally spent, fall on either side of you. 

You all look at each other. You can’t tell who starts it, but you’re soon all laughing loudly together. 

“Fuck,” you exhale. 

“Fuck indeed,” Sirius echoes. 

“You both liked it then?” Remus asks cheekily but sincerely. 

“I loved it,” you say, your voice blissful and fucked out. 

“Me too.”

“Me too,” Remus laughs.

Sirius lies up onto his elbow, looking down at both you and Remus. 

“We’ll do this again, yeah?” There’s desperation in his lovely voice, his piercing eyes.

Remus looks to you for confirmation but is already nodding, keen to go as far you’ll all want. 

“Please,” you say, and your boys take turns ardently kissing you then each other before settling in to your many-limbed embrace.

[serapharua]

HYBRID ENHYPEN | JEALOUSY . . !

enhypen ot7 — GENRE : imagines headcanon fluff hybrid au — PAIRING : gn.reader — WARNING : possessiveness — REQUESTED : nope.

HEESEUNG (deer hybrid) :

It’s a quiet afternoon, and you’re chatting with a friend, enjoying the soft rays of the sun filtering through the window. Heeseung, as usual, sits nearby, lost in his thoughts, but his attention is subtly on you. He enjoys these peaceful moments, but something shifts when your friend gets a little too close—laughing at your jokes, brushing your arm lightly as they speak, their proximity more intimate than he’s comfortable with.

Heeseung’s ears twitch, a slight frown forming on his face, though he doesn’t let it show right away. He watches as your friend leans in, sharing a joke, and he can’t help but feel a pang of something tight in his chest. It’s not that he doesn’t want you to be happy, but he feels this strange unease when someone else gets too close to you.

He lets out a soft sigh, which catches your attention. When you glance over at him, you notice the faint shift in his expression, the way his usually calm demeanor seems slightly off. His eyes avoid yours, focusing on the conversation, but there’s an almost imperceptible tension in his posture. His ears, usually so relaxed, flick with the slightest sign of agitation.

You don’t miss it. As your friend continues to engage with you, you give Heeseung a gentle, knowing look. You stand up and walk over to him, giving your friend a reassuring smile before stepping closer to Heeseung. He doesn’t meet your gaze immediately, still trying to hide his discomfort, but his shoulders visibly relax when you place a hand on his arm.

“Hey,” you murmur, leaning in just enough for him to hear. “You okay?”

Heeseung’s eyes flicker to you, his gaze soft but tinged with a hint of vulnerability. His lips curve into a small, quiet smile, though it’s a little shy. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He pauses for a moment, his gaze lingering on you before he adds, “Just… wanted to be close to you.”

You smile, understanding what he means. You gently take his hand, guiding him to stand. “How about we spend some time alone?” you suggest softly, not wanting him to feel overlooked.

Heeseung’s eyes soften, and though he doesn’t say much, the gratitude in his gaze is clear. As you walk away with him, he gives one last glance at your friend, his chest relaxing now that he has you all to himself again. The jealousy, though unspoken, has melted away, and all that’s left is a quiet reassurance, as Heeseung rests beside you, feeling safe and content.

JAY (hawk hybrid) :

It’s a casual hangout with friends, the laughter echoing in the room as everyone enjoys each other’s company. Jay is leaning against the wall, his gaze occasionally flicking toward you. You’ve been chatting with one of your friends, sharing a joke, and laughing together. Your friend’s hand casually brushes against yours as they reach for a drink, and though it’s innocent enough, Jay’s eyes narrow slightly, catching the moment.

He shifts his position, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling bubbling up inside him. The subtle touches, the closeness—they’re all too much for him, especially when it’s someone else getting your attention. The competitive, protective part of him stirs, and he finds himself watching you both a little too intently. It’s not like he doesn’t trust you, but the sight of someone else making you laugh like that… it’s hard to ignore.

As the conversation continues, Jay stands straighter, his posture becoming more rigid. He watches as your friend leans in, their voice lowering, a playful tone in their words as they make you smile even wider. Jay’s chest tightens. He doesn’t like the way it feels—like he’s losing his place beside you.

You notice Jay’s change in energy and look over at him. His jaw is set, his eyes focused on the two of you, though there’s something off about his gaze. It’s sharp, intense, and definitely not just curiosity. You can tell he’s holding something back.

You excuse yourself from your friend and walk over to him, sensing the tension in his body. Jay doesn’t meet your eyes at first, instead staring off to the side, his arms crossed in a way that seems to make him even more closed off.

“Jay,” you call softly, nudging his arm. He glances down at you, his expression neutral but his eyes betraying a flicker of frustration.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, but it’s clear he’s not. You give him a knowing look, raising an eyebrow. He sighs, his eyes softening as he looks at you, and his usual calmness returns, though there’s still a trace of something possessive lingering in his gaze.

“Just… don’t like seeing someone else get too close to you,” he admits, his tone low but genuine. It’s not anger, but a quiet frustration—an unspoken admission of how much he values his connection with you.

You smile softly, taking his hand gently, guiding him a little away from the group. “I’m not going anywhere,” you reassure him, squeezing his hand. Jay’s shoulders relax, and he lets out a small, relieved breath.

“I know,” he says with a half-smile, the intensity in his eyes softening as he focuses on you. “Just wanted to be sure.”

As you both settle back into the moment, Jay’s jealousy fades into a quiet, confident sense of security, knowing you’re right there with him.

JAKE (wolf hybrid) :

It’s another relaxed afternoon with friends, the chatter filling the room as everyone lounges on the couch. Jake is sitting off to the side, but his eyes are never far from you. You’re laughing at something one of your friends said, the playful banter between you two drawing a little too much attention from him. At first, he tries to keep his cool, but when your friend casually leans in to share something funny, their shoulder brushing against yours, something inside Jake tightens.

His gaze sharpens, and he watches the interaction closely, his jaw clenched slightly. It’s just a touch, but the way your friend lingers a little too long beside you stirs something inside him, a possessiveness he can’t ignore. He shifts in his seat, his usual easygoing demeanor slipping just a little. The wolf inside him stirs, protective instincts taking over as he watches your laugh light up the room, but it’s not just him you’re laughing with.

Jake stands up, the movement a little too abrupt. He moves toward you, but not before throwing a quick glance toward your friend, who’s still a little too close to you for his liking. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to calm the rush of jealousy that’s making him feel hot under the collar. His eyes flicker to yours, and you catch the slight tension in his posture.

When you look back at him, he forces a smile, but there’s something almost possessive in the way his gaze lingers on you. “Hey,” he says, walking over and settling next to you on the couch, his leg brushing against yours. His tone is casual, but there’s an edge to it. He leans in just enough so that your friend knows Jake’s presence is now firmly marked.

You notice the shift immediately, the way Jake’s hand rests on your knee, fingers gently tracing the spot as if claiming it. You raise an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at your lips. “Everything okay?” you ask, your voice soft but teasing.

Jake glances at you, his smile returning, but it’s tighter than usual. “Yeah, just wanted to sit with you,” he says, but there’s an unspoken message in the way he holds you a little closer, a subtle possessiveness in his touch. The playful tension between you two is palpable, and your friend seems to get the hint, retreating slightly to give you both space.

Jake’s posture relaxes once your friend moves away, but his eyes never fully leave you. His hand stays on your knee, the warmth of it steadying his heartbeat. “You’re mine,” he mutters lowly, though not in a way that feels possessive. It’s more like a reassurance to himself, a reminder that you’re his, and no one else can take your place.

You smile and lean into him, the tension from earlier melting away. “I’m right here,” you whisper, a small promise that only he can hear.

SUNGHOON (snow leopard hybrid) :

It’s a quiet evening, and the group of friends has gathered at your place, chatting and laughing as usual. Sunghoon, usually laid-back and composed, is sitting nearby, his eyes subtly tracking your movements. He watches as one of your friends, someone you’ve known for a while, makes their way over to where you’re sitting.

They lean down, laughing at something you said, their hand brushing your arm as they joke about something lighthearted. You laugh too, your face lighting up, and Sunghoon’s gaze narrows, though he doesn’t immediately make a scene. His usual relaxed posture becomes a bit more tense, the edges of his calm demeanor slipping ever so slightly.

Without much thought, Sunghoon shifts closer to you, casually placing a hand on the back of the couch next to you, his fingers brushing against your shoulder. His presence is subtle at first, but there’s an unspoken change in the air as he shifts his attention back to the person too close for comfort.

Your friend, still joking with you, doesn’t seem to notice Sunghoon’s subtle shift. But you do. His quiet tension is impossible to miss now, his eyes flicking over to your friend every now and then. You catch the slight coolness in his gaze, and you smile knowingly, deciding to test him a little.

“So,” you say playfully, turning to Sunghoon, “You don’t mind, do you?” Your voice is teasing, but you catch the slight edge to his expression.

He raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m fine,” he replies, his voice smooth, though there’s a hint of something protective behind it. “I just thought I’d join the conversation too.”

Your friend notices the shift, stepping back a little, sensing the unspoken tension between you two. Sunghoon doesn’t say anything further, but his hand, now resting on the top of the couch, is a silent claim—subtle, but firm.

When your friend finally walks away to grab something to drink, Sunghoon leans in just slightly, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs, “You’re mine, remember?” It’s not possessive, but it’s a reminder, one that feels as protective as it does reassuring.

You smile, turning toward him, your hand resting on his arm. “Always,” you say softly, the tension between you two melting away as his presence calms you. Sunghoon relaxes, his usual calm returning as he settles next to you, his hand gently wrapping around yours.

SUNOO (fox hybrid) :

It’s a warm evening, and you and your friends are hanging out in a cozy cafe. The air is filled with chatter and laughter, and Sunoo, sitting nearby, seems content as he sips his drink, his eyes flicking between you and the group. Everything feels lighthearted—until one of your friends moves closer to you, laughing at something you said.

They sit beside you, their knee brushing against yours as they joke about something playful. Sunoo’s gaze flicks to them, and you immediately notice the small shift in his demeanor. His usual smile softens, his eyes narrowing slightly as his fingers tighten around his cup.

He leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, his attention now focused on you and your friend. You don’t miss the way his posture has shifted—more tense, a little protective. Your friend continues talking, clearly unaware of the subtle tension brewing on Sunoo’s side of the table.

Without missing a beat, Sunoo leans forward, his voice teasing yet somehow more pointed than usual. “You two getting cozy over there?” His words hang in the air, playful but with an edge.

You chuckle, trying to defuse the situation. “We’re just talking, Sunoo. No need to get all possessive.”

But Sunoo’s expression doesn’t quite match his teasing tone. He raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a playful smirk. “I’m not possessive. Just making sure no one’s stealing my spot.” His gaze flickers toward your friend, who’s completely oblivious to the playful but possessive atmosphere.

You can’t help but smile at his subtle jealousy, and before you can say anything else, Sunoo leans in a bit closer to you. His hand casually brushes yours, and you feel the soft pressure of his touch, like a quiet reminder that you’re his. “I think I’ll keep you for myself,” he murmurs, his voice low enough only for you to hear.

Your friend finally notices the slight tension between you two and stands up, giving you both some space. Sunoo’s smile returns, but it’s a little more satisfied now, and you can see the playful glint in his eyes as he leans back, clearly pleased that the situation has resolved.

“Better,” he says with a wink, reaching for his drink again. His playful charm is back, but there’s still a hint of possessiveness behind his teasing words, a reminder that, despite his cute fox-like antics, he’s always got an eye out for you.

JUNGWON (panther hybrid) :

It’s a quiet afternoon, and you and Jungwon are hanging out at a park with a group of friends. Everyone is laughing, enjoying the sun, when one of your friends, a bit too eager, decides to sit next to you on the blanket. They lean in close to talk to you, their shoulder brushing against yours, and for a moment, it feels like the world fades into the background.

Jungwon, however, isn’t quite so oblivious. He watches from the corner of his eye, his lips pressed into a thin line as your friend inches closer, laughing at something you said. He’s unusually quiet now, his usual energy subdued.

You catch his eye, and for a brief second, you see something flicker there—something sharp, but you can’t quite place it. He’s still calm, his gaze cool, but there’s a noticeable shift in his body language. He’s no longer lounging casually; his posture is straight, tense, like he’s quietly calculating something.

You try to brush it off, turning your attention back to the conversation, but you feel the weight of his presence behind you, the way he’s standing a little taller now, his eyes trained on the two of you. His usual soft smile is replaced with a more serious expression, and when he takes a step closer, his shoulder brushes against yours—not in a casual way, but with purpose.

Your friend, still oblivious, leans in even more to tell you something, their face inches from yours. You glance at Jungwon again, and this time, his eyes have a sharpness to them, a quiet intensity that’s hard to ignore. He clears his throat softly, his voice low but just loud enough for you to hear. “Do you need help with anything?” he asks, his words smooth but laced with something that’s unmistakably possessive.

Your friend finally looks up, sensing the change in the atmosphere. Jungwon steps even closer, gently placing his hand on your shoulder, his fingers lightly gripping the fabric of your shirt. His touch is casual, but there’s a hint of dominance in the way he holds you, a silent claim.

The tension in the air thickens, and your friend seems to get the message. With a quick, awkward smile, they back off, giving you space. Jungwon doesn’t let go of your shoulder immediately, his eyes lingering on your friend for a moment before he looks back at you, his expression softening. “All yours now,” he murmurs, his voice carrying a mix of satisfaction and protectiveness.

You can’t help but smile at his possessive side, the way he silently staked his claim without ever saying it outright. Jungwon is still as composed as ever, but there’s a fire behind his calm exterior—a quiet, powerful reminder that, even in the most subtle ways, he’s always looking out for you.

NIKI (tiger hybrid) :

It’s a relaxed evening, and you’re at a small gathering with a few friends. The music is low, people chatting and laughing comfortably. Niki is sitting on the couch nearby, watching you as you engage in a conversation with one of your friends. The two of you are laughing, the conversation flowing easily. But as your friend leans in a bit too close, Niki’s eyes narrow slightly, his focus sharpening.

You don’t notice the shift at first, but Niki’s gaze never leaves you. The more your friend laughs and moves closer, the more his body tenses. His hand tightens around the drink in his hand, and you feel the shift in the atmosphere, a slight pressure as if he’s trying to keep everything in check.

Then, the friend touches your arm, and that’s when Niki’s patience starts to wear thin. He stands up from his seat without a word, his eyes still locked on the interaction. He moves toward you, and the air between you and your friend instantly feels colder.

“Hey, are you two having a good time?” Niki’s voice is smooth, but there’s an edge to it now—his eyes flicker from your friend to you, silently claiming your attention. His presence is much closer now, his hand casually resting on the back of your chair, his thumb brushing against your shoulder. He leans in slightly, just enough to be close, but not enough to be overwhelming.

Your friend, sensing the change in the air, backs off slightly, offering a sheepish smile. Niki doesn’t let up, his hand sliding down to rest on the arm of the chair where your hand is, his fingers gently brushing yours. “I think it’s time for us to go, don’t you?” Niki says, his tone soft but firm, his eyes not leaving yours.

You can feel the shift in his energy, the subtle possessiveness in his actions, though he doesn’t say a word about it. You smile at him, a mix of amusement and affection, as he takes your hand and gently pulls you closer, his protective side in full swing. He may not show his jealousy openly, but there’s no mistaking his silent claim on you.

As you walk away from the group, Niki’s arm slips around your shoulders, his body language relaxed once more, though there’s still a quiet confidence in the way he holds you close. You can sense the tension leaving him, knowing he’s content now that you’re back in his space.

Word count : 3099 | serapharua, 2024.

[suugarbabe]

Always

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x y/n

Warnings: slow burn, fluff, smut-adjacent? I guess

Summary: You & Theo have been best friends since year 1. Mattheo has been crushing on you since around the same time; everyone thinks you and Theo are going to end up together but both you and Theo have others in your sights.

You had met Theo your first ever day at Hogwarts. Really you had met him on the train; you had been so nervous that you were going to miss the train you made your mum get you there extra early. You had found a compartment to yourself in the back, making tiny paper birds with notebook paper and flicking your wand up and down to make them dance. It was a simple spell, a children’s spell really that your mum had taught you. It helped calm you down.

You heard more students arriving on the train the closer it got to 9:00. You weren’t bothered that no one had joined you yet, it was almost more peaceful that way. At 8:59, your compartment door flew open and a mess of brown curls was standing with his back to you, shouting down the car pathway, “Down here, Teddy, c’mon!” The curly haired boy plopped down across from you and almost jumped out of his skin, “Merlin! Sorry, I didn’t notice you there. I’m Mattheo.” You gave a weak smile, but didn’t say anything as another boy came rushing in - more like stumbling- and sat right next to you. He had sandy brown hair and was as skinny as a bean pole. You made a mental note to watch out for his inevitable clumsy-ness in the future.

“I’m Theo, thanks for letting us sit with you. We almost missed the bloody train,” he gave you a crooked smile that reached his eyes. “Teddy and I are first years, I’m assuming you’re the same by your robes,” Mattheo spoke again, tearing open a chocolate frog and shoving half in his mouth. You nodded your head, pulling a knee to your chest. “I told you, it’s Theo now, we’re going to school, it’s Theo not Teddy.” Mattheo rolled his eyes, “Not happenin’, Mate.”

“What’s your name?” Theo turned back to you, smile plastered on his face again. “Y/n,” you spoke barely above a whisper, but Theo nodded, repeating your name to himself over and over again like he was committing it to memory. “She must like you better than me, Teddy, she didn’t speak to me at all when I first walked in,” Mattheo mumbled through mouthfuls of chocolate. The tips of Theo’s earns burned the slightest shade of pink, you found it endearing. “You’re gonna have to get used to me sometime, Princess, we’re all gonna be best friends now.” You turned back to Mattheo, confusion clearly written on your face.

He rolled his eyes again, “It’s like an unwritten rule, duh. The people you sit with on the train your first time to Hogwarts end up being your best friends for life.” You took a deep breath, “Well if I’m stuck with you guys for life, I have a few rules.” Both boys sat up a little straighter, listening intently. “You need to learn to eat with your mouth shut,” you gave your want a small flick in Mattheo’s direction, shutting his mouth immediately. Theo threw his head back in laughter, wiping his eyes, “Okay, you’re definitely going to have to teach me that one.”

“And you,” you turned to Theo, “have to let me call you Teddy.” Theo smiled widely, “If you teach me that mouth sealing spell you can call me whatever you want.” You flicked your wrist again, releasing Mattheo from the spell. He gasped for air dramatically like he had been gagged, “I don’t know when, but I’ll get you back for that one, Mouse. I don’t know when, but expect it.” You tilted your head, “Mouse?” Mattheo smiled proudly to himself, “Yeah, ‘cause when I first came in you were as quiet as a mouse.” You felt your face get hot, your stomach fluttering with butterflies.

You were the last of the three of you to get sorted. The sigh of relief you let out was massive when the sorting hat placed you in Slytherin with your new friends. Theo’s long arm was waving like crazy, beckoning you over to him and Mattheo. The next several years consisted of you three growing closer and closer. You and Mattheo would always argue back and forth. But overall you felt closest to Theo. He was like your brother. You cared for each other at parties, fell asleep on each other in the common room, wore his extra quidditch jersey to games.

People asked you both all the time why you didn’t date. So when Pansy asked you again at the beginning of sixth year you had to roll your eyes. “Me and Teddy? No way, yuck!” You gagged, “he’s like my brother. That’s incest Pans, gross. Never ever no.” She laughed at your response, but still seemed a bit nervous. You raised your eyebrows, “Wait why…do you…OH MERL-” Pansy slapped her hand over your mouth, “Shut it, y/n! Do you want to wake up the rest of the girls? Yes, okay. I’m crushing on Theo.” She covered her face with her hands, groaning and presumably hiding her cheeks that were most definitely bright red.

“Oh this is great, truly,” you smiled. “Honestly, you don’t know how happy this makes me, Pans.” The girl across from you lifted her head, “Why does this make you so happy, Y/n.” Pansy was definitely suspicious at your tone of voice and just your eagerness in general. “Because…” you grinned, “a certain gangly limbed, brown haired boy told me he had a crush on a bombshell black haired girl this summer.” Pansy sat there, blank look on her face. You groaned, “Merlin’s beard…Pansy, Teddy told me he’s had a crush on you for the last year.”

Pansy squealed with excitement but quickly covered her mouth, glancing over at the other girls in the room making sure they where still sleeping. “You know what this means, right?” She sat up on her knees, practically bouncing as she spoke to you. You nodded, in full understanding, “It means we have to make sure you look hot as shit for the welcome party tomorrow.” Pansy nodded, “We both need to look hot as shit.” “Wait why we? Who do I have to look hot for?” You questioned. Pansy tucked herself into her duvet, “That’s for me to know…and you to find out tomorrow.”

——————————

As sixth years you were in charge of party planning. You and Pansy had designated yourselves as lead party planners making sure everything was perfect. You had gotten ready together, making sure each other looked “extra hot” as Pansy stated. You were still clueless as to who you were looking hot for, but you still went along with it. You both let the party get started before you made an entrance. As the pair of you made it across the room you found your group of boys. By the second week of your first year, the group had expanded from just you, Theo and Mattheo to include not only Pansy but also Draco, Blaise and Lorenzo.

Theo’s eyes were glued to Pansy the moment he clocked you guys across the room. You smiled, thanking Merlin that Theo would likely finally get a girlfriend and put the stupid dating rumors for you two to rest. He spoke up immediately, “You look amazing Pansy.” She blushed slightly, “Thank you, Theo. You look pretty good yourself.” The tops of Theo’s earn turned the slightest of pink as his smile grew, still crooked as always. He stood up, taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor.

“You’re looking fucking sexy, too, Y/n-” Enzo started his sentence but was quickly cut off with a flick of Mattheo’s wand, sealing his mouth shut with the charm you had taught the young boy so many years ago causing the rest of the group to burst out laughing. “Can I, erm, talk to you, Mouse? Alone?” Mattheo stood from his seat. You crossed your arms, “Not until you release, Enzo.” He rolled his eyes, flicking his wand again. Enzo opened his jaw wide, moving it around and making chomping movements with his mouth, “You can rightfully piss off for that one.”

Mattheo just gave him the finger before grabbing your hand. You couldn’t help the way your heart raced when his skin made contact with yours. It didn’t always used to be like this. Sure, you had a slight crush when you were eleven, but he was adorable, all the girls had a crush. It had died down a little when he started hooking up with Astoria Greengrass in year three. But last year, when Mattheo started keeping to himself more, not even hooking up with random girls your crush had time to blossom again.

You did your best to keep it to yourself. You two were still close, not as close as you and Theo, but that’s only because doing things like falling asleep on Theo’s shoulder was nothing. If you were to do that on Mattheo, you’d probably fail every test the next day over analyzing every move and breath he took. Mattheo stopped walking when you two made it to the hallway leading to the boys dorms. The silencing charm cut off right before the halls, making it much quieter and easier to talk there than inside the party.

“What’s going on Mattheo, why did you need to talk out here? And why were you mean to Enzo, he was just telling me how nice I looked, he’s allowed-”

“No,” Mattheo started through gritted teeth, “he’s not allowed, and he was being inappropriate to you.” You scoffed, crossing your arms, “Excuse me?” Mattheo turned away from you, yanking down on his curls. “Mattheo Marvelo, look at me this instant!” He whipped around, slamming a hand on the wall next to your head. You jumped slightly, letting out a small yelp. “He is not allowed to say those things to you, Mouse,” Mattheo spoke softly, his jaw was clenched and he kept his eyes shut, clearly trying to keep himself calm.

You reached up, placing a hand on his cheek, “Why?” The boy relaxed into your touch as he took a deep breath. He opened his eyes, meeting yours as you stared back at him. He held eye contact with you; you had always loved Mattheo’s eyes. Theo would tease him and tell him they were “so brown because he was full of shit”. But you were always quick to defend him. Mattheo’s eyes reminded you of mahogany in the middle. He had the richest shade of brown along the rim of his iris, when the sun caught his face on the train that first day you knew you’d be done for long term.

“Talk to me, Matty, what’s wrong?” The corner of his mouth turned up slightly at the nickname. You noticed his eyes flick from your own, down to your lips and back. Your heart rate picked up, not quite believing what he might be thinking. When his eyes flicked down again, you got a surge of confidence moving your hand from his cheek to the back of his neck. You pulled him closer, hearing his breath hitch as your lips met.

Your fingers tangled into his dark curls, his hand that wasn’t holding his weight on the wall found your waist. He took a step closer to you, essentially trapping you against the wall, the front of his body now flush to yours. You mind was tangled, you placed your hands on Mattheo’s chest, pushing him back slightly. “What’s wrong?” He asked, “Was it bad did I mess up?” You shook your head, smiling, “No, it was, gosh it was amazing, I just don’t understand how, or why, it’s happening.”

Mattheo rested his forehead against yours, “I’ve always loved you, Mouse. It’s always been you. Ever since that first day on the train, when you charmed my mouth shut with that little attitude of yours.” You smiled at the memory as he continued, “Merlin, no one had ever done anything like that to me before. I didn’t understand it at first but I felt love for you in that moment. When everyone started saying you and Theo should date, I got so jealous. I wanted it to be me. But you were always so much closer with him. I tried to date other girls, to chase that feeling I felt that first time we met but they never did it for me. Not like you, Y/n.”

Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. The boy you had been pining after for years just basically told you he loved you since he met you, that his feelings were the same as yours. He opened his mouth to speak again, but instead you tilted your head up slightly, capturing his mouth with yours. He pulled you closer, seemingly not being able to get enough of you in that moment.

In what felt like entirely too soon he pulled away, “We should get back to everyone else, yeah?” You smiled, nodding your head, “Yeah, s’pose so.” He laced his fingers with yours, leading you back to the couch your friends were sitting. Pansy and Theo now sitting down, Pansy’s legs thrown casually over Theo’s. As the two of you got closer, Pansy’s eyes panned down to your hands. She slapped Theo’s chest, pointing toward you and Mattheo. “Oh thank MERLIN,” Theo exclaimed, causing everyone’s eyes to follow, smiles forming on everyone’s faces. Enzo sat up, “Fucking Salazar, finally! We were so tired of hearing Mattheo drown on and on about you, Y/n, year after yea-” in an instant his mouth was charmed shut. Everyone turned to look at Mattheo who put his arms up in defense. You slid your wand back in your holder on your leg, shrugging your shoulders, “He talks too much sometimes.”

[x-trixie-x]

Juno | Bruno Bucciarati x Reader

Tags: AFAB, Romantic, FWB implications, Slightly suggestive but no NSFW (yet 👀), Inspired by Sabrina Carpenter

Complicated.

That’s the only way you could describe the relationship (Y/n) had with Bruno Bucciarati. The totally not dating, completely platonic relationship that somehow also consisted of nights of whispered adoration for each other, her hands tangled in his glossy, dark locks as he countlessly pressed his lips against hers and his fingers slowly tracing along her skin almost innocently, yet the intention was never innocent. He was a professional at this point; every night ended up the same way. He knew exactly what he was doing. It was easy to blame it on being tipsy the first time, on being close friends the next, but at what point do the excuses stop? At what point did they stop?

Maybe it was that night.

The group, who had once filled (Y/n)’s room with loud chatter and their usual playful antics, had recently departed for their own and left her with a painful silence. It always felt quiet in an uncomfortable way whenever they left her and the sudden empty feeling that settled in her body was enough to push her towards the comfort of her plush bed. Climbing on top of it with a gentle sigh, she fell back softly with a slight bounce, the silence now enveloping her completely as she blankly gazed at the ceiling above. It felt almost selfish; given her circumstances, her job, everything, surely she should appreciate these moments to herself? Yet despite her awareness of the fact that these moments of peace were rare, she couldn’t quite find relief in that she was given this opportunity.

Gentle, almost inaudible knocks at her door pulled her up from her bed more eagerly then she anticipated and seeing those deep, familiar sapphire eyes staring back at her from behind it brought her more joy then she cared to admit. It was like he’d sensed her discomfort, making her wonder for a split second if maybe, just maybe, they cared for each other more then they let on - that maybe their souls had started to intertwine somewhere in the middle of these intimate exchanges. Bruno stepped into the room and carefully seated himself at the edge of the bed, his hands reaching out to rest on her waist when she followed and stood before him. He gently pulled her forward, her body instinctively climbing into his lap as her arms snaked around his neck and her nose softly bumped against his. His lips were so close, teasingly brushing against hers as he peered up at her with those blue eyes that never failed to hypnotise her. His arms protectively around her waist, his soft, plump lips grazing her own with the slightest movement of his body and his eyes fixated on her with obvious adoration - it was all just too much. Every fiber of (Y/n)’s being was screaming to kiss him, touch him, have all of him again, but his hands trailing up her sides before delicately resting on her cheeks pulled her out of her impure thoughts for just a moment. Bruno held her face carefully, like she could break with the slightest increase of pressure, as he softly smiled back at her.

“You’re so beautiful…” He mumbled, causing her breath to hitch ever so slightly at the sincere words.

Yeah, it was definitely that night.

(Y/n) groaned loudly and fell back on the couch in defeat, her thoughts clouded with the memories yet again. How long had it even been since that night? She couldn’t remember at this point. It was such a bittersweet feeling - being with him was so exciting, so beautiful, yet so painful at the same time. There was no denying the feelings between them. However, as outspoken as they were in the comfort of those exchanges, so much was still left unsaid. As blatantly obvious as it was to both of them, it seemed neither of them could address what this was. Even the gang knew about it now, and despite the awkward circumstances in which it was discovered, she was thankful it wasn’t a secret.

The memory still never failed to make (Y/n) groan in embarrassment. Bruno had slipped into her room at some point in the night, pulling her into his arms as he pressed hungry, quick kisses to her lips. Everything was moving so quickly, her fingers fumbling with the zip of his jacket as she eagerly pushed it off his shoulders, his hands gripping the edge of her shirt to rapidly tug it over her head. Bruno eagerly placed his hand on the back of her head to pull her close to his body, his teeth gently sinking into her lower lip. The action caused her to release a quiet hum of satisfaction as her fingernails dug into the flesh of his chest, dragging out an identical noise in reciprocation from him. However, their bodies soon froze at the sound of (Y/n)’s door clicking open, their fearful eyes casting over to see Narancia staring at the scene before him with his jaw dropped and a panicked expression gracing his features. Bruno instinctively pulled (Y/n) close, burying her in his chest and wrapping his arms around her to conceal her as much as possible. Narancia screamed and raced back out, naturally grabbing the attention of everyone and causing them to emerge from their rooms to check on the commotion. (Y/n) quickly threw her earlier discarded shirt back over her body, her heart pounding as she ran after Narancia and prepared for the endless questioning from the group. The night soon resulted in some awkward confessions, Fugo scolding Narancia for not respecting privacy, Mista cheering, Abbacchio claiming he already knew and a very red faced, quiet Giorno and Trish.

“Narancia, I’m so sorry!” (Y/n) cried out to him, grabbing him and pulling him in for a hug. He thankfully reciprocated it back but mumbled angrily about how it’s always him who seems to walk in on these things, making her giggle sympathetically.

Noticing her distraction with the rest of the group, Abbachio took the opportunity to step over to Bruno’s side with a smirk tugging at his lips. “How unprofessional, Capo.” He teased, receiving a deep chuckle from Bruno in response.

“It’s not like that,” Bruno muttered back quietly with a soft smile as he watched everyone’s interactions before him. Abbachio hummed in confusion, raising an eyebrow at the almost lovestruck expression now on his face.

“I love her. I want her for the rest of my life.”

“Thinking about anything in particular?” Mista leaned over the back of the couch and smirked down at (Y/n), removing her out of her pitiful thoughts as she peered up at his teasing expression.

“Something like that…” She mumbled back with sadness almost a little too apparent in her tone. Mista raised an eyebrow at this, circling around to sit on the couch with her and allowing her to drape her legs across his lap. She fell back against the arm of the couch with a sigh, earning her another raised eyebrow and smirk.

“You seem to have something to say.” (Y/n) mumbled to Mista; his expression alone was enough to taunt her.

“Bucciarati?”

“Bucciarati.”

“Knew it.”

She stared at him unamused, shifting her body with a sigh to sit cross-legged on the couch and face him. Mista followed her actions with a look that was a little too excited at the conversation to come. “Talk to me, girl.”

(Y/n) blinked in confusion at the enthusiasm but eventually giggled back. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I mean, what we have is good. like, really good…” She trailed off, making Mista snort at the words. Heat raised in her cheeks slightly and she stared back at him with an unimpressed expression. “I just mean that this is good, but I don’t know if this is how it’ll always be. Just… whatever this is. Nothing more and nothing less. I don’t want to ask, that’s weird, but I’m going kind of crazy wondering what he actually thinks about me and what he wants.”

Mista sighed, propping his elbow up on his knee and resting his chin in his hand. “I think the crazy thing is that you’re even doubting for a second that he likes you.” (Y/n) tilted her head at this and Mista rolled his eyes playfully in response with a slight shake of his head. “Bucciarati wouldn’t be doing whatever this is if he didn’t like you or want to be with you. My guess is he’s waiting for the right time to say it.”

(Y/n) huffed, copying Mista’s actions by placing her chin in her hand. Waiting for the right time? Yeah, right. This had been going on for a long time now - long enough for someone to voice their desire to make this a committed thing, at least. However, she couldn’t be frustrated at Bruno’s lack of communication when she was guilty of the same crime. Mista looked at her with slight concern, realising that maybe his words did more to confuse than alleviate any worries.

“Alright, tell me exactly what you think of Bucciarati. Full transparency. Be as creative and colourful as you wish.” Mista folded his arms across his chest with a playful grin, his tone prompting her to continue in a more lighthearted, positive way. (Y/n) peered at him curiously, laughing slightly at his attempt to change the atmosphere. This is what Mista was best at - dissipating the tension and turning this somewhat heartwrenching situation into something fun, even for just a few moments.

“Well, not to be dramatic, but he is honestly the finest man I have ever seen, and I would quite literally have his children.”

“I mean, that’s not what I was expecting, but I love the enthusiasm. You go, girl!” Mista cheered and patted her shoulder, making her giggle happily. The hurt and tension seemed to wash away at the lighthearted exchange for a split second, before a familiar voice behind them made them both loudly shriek.

“Well, I’m certainly flattered.”

(Y/n) pressed her hand to her heart that was now threatening to burst right out of her chest. With her jaw dropped, she stared up at the cause of the surprise attack. Sparkling, sapphire eyes peered back down at her to meet her gaze accompanied by a knowing, smug smirk. The heat rose in her cheeks to an embarrassing level and she was certain they were a painful shade of red at this point. Mista simply leaned back against the arm of the couch with his hand covering his mouth, maybe due to being a little embarrassed at the high pitched scream that came out of him just seconds ago, and his eyes flickered rapidly between the two of them.

“Bruno! That’s… I didn’t mean-”

“Come with me.”

Bruno began to step towards the exit of the room, making (Y/n) leap forward to grab Mista’s shirt. He didn’t speak, he didn’t move his hand from his mouth; he simply stared back at her with wide eyes while she tightly gripped his shirt and pleaded for help through fearful eyes. “Mista! What’s going to happen?”

“Congratulations in advance.” Mista whispered and placed his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll be a great mother.”

(Y/n) blushed deeply and hissed Mista’s name, fearfully peering behind her to meet Bruno’s gaze. He leaned against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, that smug smirk still gracing his features as he patiently waited for her to follow. She took a final glance at Mista with desperate hope that he’d pull her out of this situation. However, he simply gestured for her to go and she inhaled deeply in preparation for the painful, embarrassing fate that she was about to meet. (Y/n)’s head hung low as she followed Bruno to his room, tentatively stepping over to sit on the edge of his bed as he clicked the lock on his door. The sound, which usually filled her with excitement and desire for what would always follow, now filled her with a sense of dread. As he took a seat beside her, her breath hitched slightly and she slowly glanced to her side, appreciating the vision of him this close to her for what she could only assume would be the last time now. He was so painfully pretty - the way his glossy, dark locks fell perfectly around his face, his smooth, tanned skin, those plump, soft lips that seemed to perfectly melt against hers every night. God bless his genetics.

“You certainly think highly of me.” Bruno muttered with a soft smile and turned to face her, his voice dragging her out of the trance she’d fallen into and breaking the silence that had settled in the room. She opened her mouth to speak but simply closed it again - whatever she attempted to say would only dig this hole deeper, if that was even possible.

“Don’t be shy, tesoro, I’m really very interested in hearing what you have to say.” Bruno leaned close to her ear and whispered, his tone sending gentle shivers down her spine.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that…” (Y/n) mumbled quietly, her shaking voice betraying her and revealing her nervousness as she turned to the side. At the feeling of his fingers reaching around to grip her chin softly, she let out a noise of surprise when Bruno turned her face to meet his eyes. They held no anger, no disgust, just that pure look of adoration they always seemed to hold when he looked into her eyes.

“What are you sorry for? Was it not true? I’d be pretty disappointed if that was the case.” He playfully smirked at her, his words filling her with a sense of relief but causing that familiar heat to spread throughout her face again.

“You’re not mad? Or uncomfortable?” (Y/n) asked with a confused blink, almost certain he would’ve at least called out the things she’d said about him.

Bruno chuckled and shook his head softly, taking her hand in his and lacing their fingers together slowly before placing their now intertwined hands on his lap. “Quite the opposite, actually. I’m really happy you see me that way. It means I can finally have this conversation with you.”

“Conversation?”

Bruno exhaled deeply, gazing down at their locked hands with a soft smile before flickering his bright, blue eyes back up to meet hers. He gently squeezed her hand, shuffling closer to rest a hand on her cheek; her skin felt so soft beneath him, so delicate. “I’m sorry you had to wait so long to hear this. It’s been so painful trying to surpress my feelings every day I’m with you and thinking that if I voiced just how much I care about you it would put your life in danger even more. I can feel how you feel, and believe me, I feel just the same, but I couldn’t let myself be selfish and put you at risk just for being with me. If you really feel that way, maybe this once I’ll let myself be so selfish. You’re the only one I want, always and forever. I’ve fallen so helplessly in love with you…”

(Y/n) felt her hands begin to tremble, her heart pounding rapidly deep within her chest. Was this a dream? She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t breathe. She felt so utterly consumed by his beautiful words — so utterly consumed by him. (Y/n) slipped her hand from his, resulting in a puzzled hum from him, before she leaned forward to take his face in her hands. Bruno soon felt the tension slip from his body, however, when she pressed her soft lips against his, and he instinctively raised his hand to rest on her back. He felt himself almost melt at her touch; she didn’t have to speak because her actions always conveyed enough for him to truly understand every feeling she felt.

Drawing away from him, leaving Bruno just a little bit disappointed that he couldn’t experience her kiss for a few moments more, she stared deeply into his eyes, her hands never leaving his face. “Bruno, all I’ve ever wanted is you. I’m yours, always.”

Bruno softly smiled, a sense of relief washing over him at the feeling of her being his officially. Finally. He paused for a brief moment to ponder over an important detail he seemed to carelessly forget, his eyes darkening ever so slightly as he tilted his head with that playful, teasing smirk returning to his face. (Y/n) stared back at him with evident confusion - he was up to something.

“So, you’d have my children?”

“Bruno!” She groaned in response, her body deflating in utter defeat at the embarrassing reminder of her previous confession.

“No need to be embarrassed. I truly am flattered.” He laughed lightly at the sight of her form shrinking awkwardly, the smirk still smugly painted across his face.

Bruno carefully pushed her down, her back meeting the soft sheets beneath her as he settled above her and placed his hands at either side of her head. Completely caged beneath him, (Y/n) gazed up at him with a subtle, pink blush now dusting across her cheeks at the position; regardless of how often she ended up like this, it never failed to catch her off guard and bring a blush to her face. Bruno reached a hand up to grip at the zip on his collar, slowly dragging it down with his eyes fixated on hers before shrugging the confines of his jacket off his shoulders.

“I can make that happen whenever you want, cara mia…”

[lenreli]

i still feel your touch in my dream [dreamling]

[AO3]

M, 8.8k. Asking your best friend to be your fake boyfriend when you're straight is a foolproof plan. Or so Dream thinks.

-

“You’re―what,” Hob says, confused as he rubs the bridge of his nose. “Can you repeat that?” Well, maybe confused doesn’t cover it. Flummoxed, maybe. Bewildered. Definitely bewildered. 

“I want you to be my plus-one to the wedding,” Hob nods, getting that part easily. “And since you’re one of few people I trust, and as my best friend, we should pretend to be together. To piss off Desire,” he says slowly. Hob’s brows raise. 

Then he sighs, “I get the plus-one, I’m for the pissing off your sibling with―I’m just. You’re straight,” Hob says, hand chopping down between them. “Dream, you’re―did you forget that? Suddenly?” Hob’s voice gets very high-pitched at the end, making Dream quash a smile. 

“I do know, yes,” he says with a nod, “but it has been said that sexuality is fluid, and I’m quite frankly annoyed at Desire disparaging me for being the token straight,” he puts in air-quotes, “whenever I meet up with my siblings.”  

Hob opens his mouth, then shuts it, looking contemplative, “oh yeah, I could see that getting nasty,” Hob mutters under his breath. And it definitely has, Desire constantly poking and prodding him until there’s violence. Or he walks off. “And the wedding is―the weekend? At some fancy hotel or something, right?” Dream nods. Hob scratches an eyebrow with a nail, then sighs deeply. “Better be good food there.” 

Dream finally smiles, overjoyed even as Hbo stares into the distance intently, probably working out his work and whatnot. “Thank you very much, Hob,” he says, rocking on the heels of his feet. “Now, about your suit―” 

Hob groans and looks to the ceiling, “I have savings! I can afford a new one! Not like, fifty-thousand suits like you have somewhere, but fancy enough,” Hob waves him off. 

-

 “A taxi? Couldn’t afford a limo?” Hob asks once he’s inside said taxi, Dream giving him a look as he hangs up the garment bag on the handle inside, Hob’s own suitcase stowed in the back, along with his. “Couldn’t resist,” Hob says once he meets his eye, grinning. Dream crosses his arms as the taxi starts to move.

“Maybe if you showed me your suit I would’ve gotten a limo,” he retorts dryly. Dream stares intently at the black garment bag, hoping that unknown x-ray powers would appear. “If it’s some sort of monstrosity, for my sister’s wed―” 

“It’s not! And it matches yours! There’s black,” Hob defends with a shrug, and Dream huffs, placated. 

Hob gets out his phone, meanwhile Dream gets out a book, happy to spend time with each other in silence. At least, until― 

“Are you really sure you wanna do this?” Hob asks, once again. Dream’s eyes go to the ceiling, annoyed with Hob’s constant pestering about this. “I just don’t want you freaking out!” Hob says. “We’re gonna have to kiss! And―well, kissing, mainly.” 

“I’ll be fine,” he says with a sigh. Hob gives him a skeptical glance. “Even with not liking it, I know how to act,” he reminds Hob, and there’s a split-second of an emotion he can’t recognise on the other’s face, which gives him a spike of irritation, not knowing what it means, or why Hob hid it so quickly. 

“That’s true,” Hob sighs, hunching on himself as he scratches an eyebrow with a thumb. “I just hope you’ve mentally prepared yourself for the kissing and how touchy-feely I’m going to be.” 

“It’s more tiring work to deal with a whole wedding than that,” he says, and he’s mainly used to Hob in his space, legs brushing or Hob picking grass out of his hair, the other’s touches always pleasant. And never draining, like dealing with a loud wedding for example. “I hope you’ve prepared not to fall in love with me by the end of it, at least,” he says flippantly, not serious in the slightest.

Hob slides down the seat and looks out the tiny strip of the window not covered by his garment bag, “don’t worry, I won’t be.”

Dream, inexplicably, is cut deep by it.

-

The White Lotus is on the beach, the weather grey and dreary. Despair, like him, probably favours it, especially for her wedding. And he’s pretty sure they’re not going to go outside much, the schedule only allowing a dinner tonight, which they have to be dressed up for, then the wedding the day after. 

Even with the fake-boyfriend with Hob being there, he’s at least happy with the other man being there, always finding comfort with him. The shower cuts off and Dream blinks, stretched out on their one bed. His suit, all black, is itchy. Or maybe it’s because of some other reason as he waits, anxiety creeping slowly as he thinks of seeing his siblings, the dining room full of people which they passed on the way to their room― 

The bathroom door opens, and Dream sits up, breathless from the sudden movement as he scrutinises Hob’s suit. Pinstriped trousers and jacket, white shirt and then a blue tie. Though, the thing that catches his eye more is the eyeliner, making the other’s brown eyes even more intense. “Acceptable,” he says, swallowing as Hob smiles. “Eyeliner?” He asks. 

Hob shrugs and sits next to him, warmth pressing into his side, “we are together, so we should match,” Hob says with a smile. 

“Good thinking,” he nods. “Thank you for coming,” he breathes, anxiety dwindling as Hob leans into him. 

“Of course,” Hob says quietly, then eventually an ah, and Dream looks over as Hob gets something from an inside pocket of his jacket. “Got these for you, since you probably lost yours under all the black in your suitcase,” he says with a smile. 

Earplugs, the background-noise cancelling kind that he probably left at home, in the bag he usually carries. “Or the kind I accidentally left at home,” he replies with a huff, and Hob gives him an even brighter smile as he takes the earplugs, putting them in his trouser pocket. 

-

“Wait, how many times?” Hob asks on their way to the dining room. 

“This is her sixth marriage,” he explains. “Desire keeps making jokes about Despair―well,” he shrugs, “there’s a betting pool between my other siblings as to how long her current soon-to-be-wife will live,” he says quietly, Hob’s eyebrows raising higher. 

Hob lets out a quiet whistle, face baffled, “and? What did you bet on?” 

Dream sniffs, jaw setting, “of course, I’d never stoop so low,” he says as they stop outside the dining room. Hob blinks, clearly not buying it, “a year, at least,” he whispers between them.

“Wow,” Hob says, countenance showing nothing of what he thinks as he glances at the dining room. “Ready, partner?” Hob asks, an arm going around his waist, and Dream swallows at the warmth radiating from the other man. 

Dream sighs, then nods, walking past tables of people until they reach the table closest to where the brides are ― the family table, with his siblings, his and Hob’s names emblazoned on cards as they sit down. 

“Gadling? What is Gadling doing here?” Desire says across from them, tone judgemental as they stare at Hob, and Dream scowls, Hob’s hand still on his back as Hob smiles pleasantly. “Well?” They demand, glittery red eyeshadow sparkling in the light, matching their lips. 

“I’m his partner,” Hob says simply, and the table stops, everyone else’s eyes on swiveling to them. He can feel it, even as Hob’s other hand caresses his jaw, turning him to look at Hob, brown eyes kind― 

There’s gasps, but everything else seems to fall away, the kiss chaste―but luxurious, hands scratching through his hair as Hob pulls him closer. Hob’s tongue slowly presses into his mouth, teeth biting into his lips and he shudders, can only focus on the way that Hob tastes of chocolate, of the stubble scratching hard-soft against him, insides tingling and light-headed as he holds onto the other’s thighs. 

The kiss ends with another press of lips, and Dream hears himself make a small sound in protest, wanting more. 

… Wanting more? Dream blinks, looking over to see Desire gaping―which he also feels like doing, if it didn’t feel like― 

His atoms were being rewritten, can barely hear everything else over too much and not enough. Hob’s satisfied? He can only hear because of putting his head on the other’s shoulder, feeling him speak more than hearing it, and Hob’s hand on his neck, softly stroking the skin. 

Dream’s unwilling to let go, sounds slowly filtering back to him in a cacophony of noise, which makes him pull away, sitting back in his seat as he takes out the earplugs Hob got him, putting them in and then sighing as he only hears the table, Hob talking with Death. 

Hob’s hand is still near him, can feel the heat of it on the back of his chair, pressing into him, thumb rubbing up and down his shoulder blade and Dream’s lips tingle. Even the joy at seeing Desire still gaping is muted under the way he would rather be kissing Hob again.

-

“You good?” Hob asks, snapping Dream of of his daze between courses and speeches with Hob’s other hand coming up to his cheek, can feel a thumb trace his cheekbone as Hob smiles, brows showing worry. “Not too much?” 

“No,” he manages, and Hob slides his chair closer, legs brushing and Dream almost resists the way he wants to nuzzle into Hob’s hand ― until he does, and he can hear Hob’s small chuckle, bright and making him relax even more into it. 

“Good,” Hob whispers, brown eyes soft and fond, affection clear to see and Dream’s throat closes up at it. Hob sighs and presses their foreheads together, and Dream’s lips tingle at their breaths, at the odd feeling of wanting Hob to kiss him again. Can feel it building up, the yearning for it. 

A small, miniscule part of him still thinks it was a fluke, that he’s― 

“You don’t mind?” Hob asks, lips brushing, and Dream’s heart jumps into his throat. 

“No,” he says after a breath, not wanting to be too eager, even though he is. 

The kiss is soft, indulgent and chaste, and Dream melts into it, remembering he has hands as he holds onto the other’s waist with one, the other petting at the soft-rough of Hob’s beard. It deepens and Dream swallows down a shiver, feeling like the air in the room is rapidly disappearing with how all-consuming it is.

There’s vague sounds of disgust, but Dream doesn’t register it, can only press into Hob more as a thumb touches his bottom lip, the rough drag of it he can feel down to his toes― 

And suddenly, it ends and Dream takes a deep breath, blinking as he looks at the waiters, bringing them another course of dinner, leaving him achingly bereft of Hob. 

Not a fluke, he thinks distantly. Dream wants to―for Hob to touch him more, searing hands and soft lips, wants more than just the arm on the back of his chair, Hob easily going back to eating and talking, and not at all like he’s changed everything Dream thought he knew about himself.

-

Dream wakes up the next morning, feeling like yesterday was a fever dream.

Or that may be because of Hob, who runs searing hot. And he’s holding onto, forehead pressed against the other’s back, sheets bunched down to his lower half as he touches Hob’s waist, skin soft. And hot. And, even just like this, Dream thinks of kissing the back in front of him, of waking Hob up with them, who’d smile and― 

Gently, he slips out of the bed and walks into the bathroom, shutting the door. 

Taking a deep breath, he sits on the cold tiles and rubs his face. So he may not be as straight as he thought, however it’s still terrifying. Especially with Hob, who’s―his best friend! 

Getting up, he moves to the basin, noticing his heart beating quickly. And. Fuck. Why is he hard?! Muffling a groan, he washes his face with cold water.

Maybe a cold shower would be more effective. 

-

“I have an idea,” Hob says, looking away from him as a hand tugs his ear, and Dream sits on the bed. “But I just, it’s silly―” 

Dream blinks, considering. Hob knows him, and he trusts Hob. With far more then he’s even beginning to realise. “Okay.” 

Hob’s head whips around, eyes wide, “you didn’t even hear my―” Hob wheezes out, sitting closer to him. “It’s―” the other’s loss for words, red on his face makes Dream confused. Though the hand on his shoulder makes him less so. “Because,” Hob whispers, and Dream swallows a sound as he’s gently pushed onto the bed, nails scratching up and down his throat―with Hob’s breath on the other side. 

Suddenly the cold shower doesn’t seem like enough as Hob bites into his neck, and he shivers, staring unseeingly at the ceiling as Hob licks and nibbles at his throat. The other’s stubble is pleasant, makes him arch up into it as Hob sucks at his skin. Gasping, he holds onto Hob’s shoulder, body tingling as a final lick gets placed over the stinging marks. 

“Not too much?” Hob asks, voice rough and eyes dark as they stare down at him, fingers still lightly caressing his neck. 

Heart racing, Dream gulps down a―whine, pathetic and needy as he shakes his head. Can feel the sting of it, the blood rushing towards the marks, towards his face. Doesn’t want to speak, with only more and yes on his mind. Especially if it involves Hob’s gaze so heavy, almost palpable on him.

Hob licks his lips and Dream can only watch, transfixed as Hob gives him a once-over―and he’s glad that his black shirt and pants are loose enough to hide the start of an erection. 

“I’ll―I need to get ready,” Hob says with a bright smile, walking off to the bathroom in the next breath. Dream inhales deeply, closing his eyes as a hand comes up to cover the bruises, heart beating out of his chest as he wonders if he’ll even survive the day. 

-

Dream’s focus throughout the day is shot, to put it mildly. Even as he stands with his siblings as the vows are made and papers are signed, the bright red mark on his neck aches and itches, showing close to his collar, his suit out for another day. Desire gaped at the sight of it, while Hob just smiled and kissed his cheek, the hand on his waist leaving as Hob sits down in the aisle, pinstriped suit on. 

After ― so many pictures, he’s happy to sit down next to Hob, groaning as he finally gets a chance to rest his legs. And putting his head onto Hob’s shoulder, sighing in relief as Hob laughs and pats his hair. 

“All done?” Hob asks as he’s pulled closer, the pleasant warmth of the other man making him relax even more, uncaring of the chaos around them of people talking and congratulations to the newly-wedded couple. 

“Had to stop Delirium from going into the ocean, at least until after lunch,” he mumbles. “And Desire kept bringing attention to―” my hickey, he doesn’t say, can feel his face heating just thinking that. 

“Poor baby,” Hob coos, kissing his hair softly―and there’s only a skipped beat of Dream’ heart as Hob guides his face up with a hand, more pecks against his forehead, down to nose. The soft, chaste kiss on his lips makes his insides flutter. 

Groaning, Dream hides his face back under Hob’s head, putting his arms around warm shoulders as he tries to not let his brain focus on the entirely new way he appreciates Hob in his suit, the hot rush of seeing him in it once they got dressed in the morning. 

-

The rest of the day seems to fly by ― the time creeping closer to them leaving. To Hob no longer having a constant arm on the back of his chair, or around his waist. 

A press of lips to his hair, a kiss that feels like all the air is sucked out of the dining room, indulgent and makes him light-headed. He can only follow uselessly as the kiss ends, and he shivers as fingers leave his hair. 

Dream is in a daze, has never been punch-drunk off of kisses as he doesn’t remember eating his lunch, or dessert. Can only think of the tingling of his lips, the pleasant scratch of Hob’s beard and gentle hands. Though, there was that moment of embarrassment, clarity as Hob put a spoonful of dessert in front of him, citrus-y in comparison to the chocolate mousse that he got. 

Lunch done, people leave or split off into groups, going to the beach or nearby bars. Hob and Dream end up sitting outside, people watching. “Aren’t you going to go in?” Dream asks eventually, though he would miss the warmth around his waist. 

“I’m good,” Hob says with a shrug, using his free hand to point out a group of people .”Polycule or messy divorce?” He asks. 

Dream stares at the group, two of the people talking intensely, the others watching on in worry. “One or two of them want out of the polycule, obviously,” Dream replies dryly. 

“Ah,” Hob says, gently nudging him to look at a waiter, strained customer-service-smile in place as he’s talked to by a particularly passionate customer. “He’s totally gonna get a special for this one.” 

“Disgusting, but likely true,” he says with a scrunch of his nose, making Hob laugh and lean into him. Dream’s heart races. And something springs to mind―that Hob’s only been the one giving kisses. Pulse in his throat, he presses his lips to Hob’s, can still feel the laughter as Hob stills, brown eyes shocked. 

Running off instinct, he presses forward, putting his hands onto Hob’s cheek, stubble soft under his hands. Hob lets out a small sound and returns the kiss slowly, even as the arm around his waist moves, nails digging into his spine, and Dream swallows a gasp, brain full of static pleasure. 

His pleasure only doubles as Hob’s free hand sits on his neck ― fingers pressing into the mark that was left, Dream can’t help the shudder, the overwhelming need to get even closer, wants to crawl into Hob’s lap as Hob’s lips move down, teeth scraping against his chin and down― 

“Ugh, really? I just got my appetite back,” a voice says in disgust, making Dream overtly aware of Hob at the edge of his jaw ― and Desire in front of them, a metaphorical splash of cold water. 

Hob breathes against his skin, which he can feel heating up at his sibling’s gaze, and Dream keeps his eyes somewhere on Desire’s red one-piece, bejewelled and bedazzled, skimpy and costing a small fortune, probably ― and Dream bites his tongue at the smile from Hob that he can feel before they part. “We weren’t doing anything,” Dream says eventually, voice rougher than it was before. 

Desire rolls their eyes and breezes past, saying ― something. Which he doesn’t catch due to the redness of Hob’s lips as he watches Desire walk by, an eyebrow raised. 

-

Usually, Dream would already be back into his hotel room by the time the sun sets ― but finds it hard to leave Hob’s side, the casual affection he experiences. And Hob doesn’t expect him to join in with a conversation as he talks with some of his sibling’s friends, a hand around his waist or on his shoulder as Hob talks about his job as a professor. 

“Sorry,” Hob says bashfully after they’ve left, apparently going back home. “Should we get room service, or dinner here again?” 

Dream blinks, can vaguely feel hunger underneath the pleasant haze of Hob’s attention. “I saw an Indian place on this road,” he offers, feeling pride as Hob brightens. “When we were in the taxi.” 

“Brilliant!” Hob says enthusiastically, close―and Dream freezes at the sudden kiss, hands cradling his face. 

He can feel Hob’s smile, his joy as he’s pulled closer, Hob’s body warm against him, and he relaxes slowly into it, grabbing onto Hob’s pinstriped jacket. And he thinks of Hob reacting like this outside of this hotel, heart in his throat as Hob ends the kiss with a lighter one. 

“Let’s go!” Hob tugs him along, and Dream can only walk forward. “No offence to your sister, but her food choices were certainly choices,” Hob says under his breath. 

Dream chuckles as they walk out of the hotel, “yes, her taste is quite… bland,” he grimaces. “Aside from desserts. She does love those,” he nods. 

“I need some complex spice or I might just go insane,” Hob mutters, making Dream smile as he looks down the road, this time Dream tugging Hob into going across the road. 

-

The next morning, Dream wakes up in Hob’s arms, can feel a forehead against the back of his hair. And they’re leaving― 

Which means no more kisses, no more of the casual affection, or this, Hob’s body searing and wrapped around him, and Dream feels heavy. 

Opening an eye, he sees they still have a few more hours before checkout. 

So he ignores it, putting his hands on the arms around him, and even with all that he’s recently learned, he shuts his eyes and lets the time pass. 

Hob’s leg between his ― the way Hob groans, arms wrapping tightly around him, and Dream swallows, worries that the other man’s waking up―but Hob just lets out a sigh. Hob’s head is now closer to his neck, can feel the breath on the back of it as Hob stretches behind him with a groan, their feet tangling. 

And a hardness against his lower back, only briefly. Dream’s mouth dries, skin feeling too-warm and too-tight suddenly, not helped by Hob’s body. Body warm and somehow right, and Dream stops thinking before that sentence ends.

-

Hob and Dream live together, have been roommates for years, fitting into each other’s places easily. And coming back from the weekend, there’s an oddness, a wrench thrown into the works. Hob is more closed-off, not as affectionate― 

And Dream can’t stop thinking about the weekend. It probably needs to be called The Weekend, capitalised. A moment between how they were before, and how they are after. 

Before, he felt no weirdness, stepping into Hob’s room, seeing Hob at his desk, marking papers in a ratty pair of sweatpants and shirt. Wouldn’t even register the bed as he steps, not thinking of Hob’s warmth, thinking of breath against the back of his neck as they slept. 

“Hob,” he says quietly, resisting the urge to fidget, still smelling of smoke and sweat from a club. A gay one.

Just to know that it’s not some Hob-shaped thing, these feelings―which, some of them are. Even with the kissing being good from these other men, the casual way he went about, almost detached and scientific, wanting to quantify it. This one’s beard didn’t scratch as nicely as Hob’s, that man’s eyes weren’t brown enough, this other man’s hands didn’t hold him as nicely as―Hob hums, still going through his work, and even with knowing that Hob won’t react terribly, he works through the tentative fear with a deep breath, stepping closer.

“I don’t think I’m straight,” he says, and that makes Hob stop his work. There’s heartbeats of silence, Dream’s heart racing at what he said, making it something real. 

Hob puts his pen down, still not facing him. “Oh.”

Dream swallows, feeling a bit confident now that nothing’s happened with what he said, “I went to that club you go to sometimes. It was nice,” he offers. Of course, he doesn’t says that you may have ruined me for all other men before I even knew or something else that would ruin their friendship. 

“I’m happy for you,” Hob’s tone is odd―indescribable, and Dream frowns, walking closer until he leans next to Hob. At this, Hob looks up to him and smiles, “really, I am,” he says, voice more matching to his words. “And thank you for telling me.” 

Dream tilts his head, relaxing against the desk, “how did you realise?” He asks, hit with the knowledge that over their many years of friendship, he’s never learnt. 

Hob shrugs, going back to his marking. “When I was teenager. It was like getting slapped over the head with it,” he says with a laugh. “One of those dramatic moments when you see―well, you know.” 

He’s happy to note that Hob’s arm presses into his waist, the careless press of before, that Dream now appreciates in another way, “and figuring out your sexuality?” 

“Well, that took a while. But honestly, it’s different for everyone,” Hob rests his head on his hand, pen tapping against his cheek, “no pressure from me for you to figure it out. Even just being not straight or queer, or feeling an affinity to any of the labels, or not. Whatever!” 

Dream nods, sliding up onto the table, pulling up the papers as he does so. “How goes academia today?” 

Hob groans, resting his head on the one he’s marking. “I’ve read through two AI essays. I wish they knew more!”

-

Dream wakes up, sheets tangled and blood rushing, reaching across his bed for― 

A Hob from dreams, dark eyes staring down at him, and he groans, pulling the sheet over his head. His cock aches, leaking as he shuts his eyes, trying to keep the remnants of the wet dream in sight. The pressure of Hob’s hands trailing down his body, the long-healed bruise on his neck, more being bitten onto him. 

He can’t remember the last time he got so worked up from a dream, not even during puberty. 

There wasn’t even anything explicit, just the pressure, the sight of Hob on top of him. Fingers trailing down his body, down to his thighs, Hob’s lips following his hands. Dream shivers at the remembrance of it, overwhelmed with it. 

Biting his lip, he takes a deep breath as he grabs his aching cock, sparks of pleasure making him gasp as he imagines it’s Hob stroking him. 

Hob’s hands, searing hot, pleasantly rough and he whimpers, dick leaking around his fingers incessantly. Hob staring up at him, eyes dark and black, the gaze tangible and fuck, he wants it, pulse jumping under the imagined weight of it. 

Biting his cheek, he lets out a small cry as the orgasm rushes up to meet him, come coating his hand, and the sheet on top.

In the post-orgasmic haze, he can only manage a small amount of shame, thinking of Hob as he did.

-

Dream stares down at the text message, dread already making its home in his stomach. 

Desire

that boyfriend of yrs should come ;) unless… 

Sure, Hob and he are still ― that’s not the problem. He doesn’t even know how to articulate it, considering Hob’s either hot-or-cold with him, entirely randomly. And today Hob’s been distant, smile not reaching his eyes. 

Taking a deep breath, he goes to the kitchen, where Hob’s making dinner. “Hob?” The other man hums, focusing on a pot of pasta. “You should meet up with my siblings and I this Saturday,” he says lightly. 

“As your partner?” Hob asks, voice flat and Dream winces, his silence telling. “Think I’ll be busy that day,” Hob says, turning to give him one of those smiles that doesn’t show in his eyes. 

Walking closer, he watches as Hob puts things into another pan, “are you sure?” 

“Can’t get out of it. Sorry,” Hob says, not sounding sorry at all as he shrugs. Or truthful, either, which feels like the worst part. He has heard from many of Hob’s exes about his lying, among many other flaws, but he’s always willing to tell the truth to Dream. At least, until this. 

“Okay,” he frowns, not wanting to call it out. Hob gets out some small spoons and tries the pasta sauce, humming in consideration. And suddenly Hob is staring at him, a happy smile ― which does brighten up his eyes ― on his face, and Dream blinks at the spoon in front of his face, pasta sauce on it. 

“Spicy enough for you, or more?” 

-

There was sound coming outside of the apartment, but Dream waves it off as Hob, putting on his sleepclothes after a shower. Opening the bathroom door, he absently dries his hair, then freezes. 

In front of him ― well, not him ― but in front of Hob’s door, is Hob, every ounce of attention on the man he’s crowding against the door, sharing small laughs and words. The man is is tall and dark-skinned, thin dark locs in Hob’s hands as they kiss. 

The man glances over at him, and Dream jolts into awareness, somehow freezing up even more as he gulps, insides twisting in― 

Jealousy, the way the man starts to speak up more ― then a hand covering his mouth as Hob shushes him, eyes sparkling even from the side as he finally opens his bedroom door, more hushed talking as the door shuts, Hob not even aware of him. 

Wide-eyed, he quietly goes to his own room, noting that he has felt this before with Hob’s exes, or hookups. Which he wasn’t aware of, the jealousy, until it flooded through him, always thought of it of―he wasn’t sure, something about Hob’s attention, about stealing Hob away from him, he’d thought once. And the envy of it, can think of a yawning void of Hob’s casual, flirting touches with others.

 Putting on his headphones, Dream puts on his music and tries not think of how he wants to be the focus of that attention again, those heady kisses and― 

More, even, he thinks, can feel his face heating as he gets out a book to read. Though he ends up stuck on the first page, unable to retain more than the first word, can only think of wet dreams and the ache of wanting to be the one Hob is paying singular attention to. 

-

Desire gives him a judgemental look, making him feel small in between the rest of their siblings. “Your boyfriend’s failed to show up again,” they say acridly, and Dream tries not to grimace. Considering the way Desire’s eyes light up, he’s failed. 

The judgement is suffocating, and Dream considers running away. Or getting a seat outside this suddenly stifling restaurant. 

Work thing. Can’t miss it, was Hob’s lie this time ― and ― he gets it, that they’re not in the actual relationship his sibling’s think it is. The relationship that he wishes it was, but it’s not like he’s going to say to Desire, who lorded it over him when his last relationships broke. 

He can’t do that. 

“Well?” They drawl, looking smugly satisfied as they twirl blond hair around their finger. 

“He’s busy,” Dream says with heat, unwilling to give in to the pressure. Desire scoffs. Dream opens his mouth― 

“Sibling, let it go,” Despair replies with a sigh, and Dream boggles, feeling as surprised as Desire looks. “I wish I was with my wife right now, but alas,” she continues with a pout. 

Desire squint-glares at him, but does let it go, though they settle on a scowl and a huff. “Fine, but only for you, sister dear.” 

Next to him on the left, Death groans, “now that that’s over with, can we order? I only have so much time―” 

On his right, Delirium speaks up, “you always say that!” 

-

“What happened to you?” Hob asks, and Dream freezes, gingerly stepping into the kitchen ― which he was hoping to sneak past, unable to account for Hob’s apparent radar. Hob gives him a once-over, and he resists the urge to curl up on the small stool, head pounding.

“Nothing,” he says, not wanting to talk about the weird tension between them. Or the excellent idea he had to get drunk enough to actually have a one-night stand. Which is more Hob’s thing, Dream at least preferring at a bit of emotional connection before doing that. 

And so. Alcohol. And a particularly nice man, eyes more of a hazel than brown―”if you say so,” Hob says dryly, eyes on his throat. Ah. Hickies. He  groans as he cups his throat, skin tingling as he flops onto the counter, the chill of it nice compared to the heat in his face. “Painkiller?” 

Dream groans, nodding against the counter, “please,” he says, hearing Hob move around their tiny kitchen. “Aren’t you meant to be at work?” He asks, reasonably sure today is one of those days where Hob leaves. Which he was kind of hoping for, and didn’t get. 

“The semester ends soon, and so I just decided to Zoom for those who really want to ― or need to do more,” Hob explains, and soon enough something cool is pressed against his temple, making him open his eyes, blankly staring at the glass of water against his forehead. Sitting straight, he downs the painkiller next to the glass, drinking most of the water before he puts it down. “Sorry to ruin your apparent sneaking,” Hob says, expression intensely focused on him, and Dream scowls. 

“How did you know?” He asks, can feel the other’s dark eyes on his neck, on the marks put there. They didn’t even do anything ― just heavy petting, the other man citing the alcohol on his breath. Though there was a handjob, quick and yet a marvel, the feeling of another’s man’s dick in his hand― 

Hob’s face becomes hard to understand, but only briefly before he smirks. “I have my ways,” Hob says. Dream gives him an unimpressed stare as he puts his head onto his arms on the counter, which also helps with the scrutiny he can still feel. “Your boots are very stompy,” Hob says, solemn. 

Dream stares down at his black platforms in betrayal as he pouts into his arm. “They are,” he mutters, in the end deciding to let go of the betrayal. He can’t stay mad at them. 

A bowl gets placed in front of him, and Dream stares in confusion at the cereal and milk in it. “You should eat,” Hob says as he puts a spoon in the bowl, pushing it into his arms. Dream blinks and can only agree. “My classes start in two hours, so wanna watch more of that show?” 

Nodding, he takes the bowl, absently eating it as Severance gets put on. 

-

Dream swallows the hurt as Hob’s hand, coming up to his shoulder ― stops and goes back to Hob’s side. They were so good, and suddenly, this again, the aborted touches, and he resists the urge to ask why? 

Mainly because he’s not sure he’d like the answer. Hob gives him a smile before he leaves and Dream sighs, flopping down onto the sofa. Can only think of the way Hob continues to not touch him. 

And that Weekend, where Hob was always touching him, and for all that he did appreciate it, he wants it even more now. Closing his eyes, he brings up the memory of it ― a hand on his shoulder, or on the small of his back. Fingers in his hair and a soft beard. 

Putting his arms around himself, Dream grabs onto the echoes of them, desperately wanting it to be Hob. 

He considers ― briefly ― of getting up, going to a club and trying to push himself in the easy skinship of that, but discards it, mind still spiraling on why won’t you touch me anymore, not even a pat on the shoulder― 

His phone rings and he startles, pulled out of his head as he opens it, Death’s face on the Calling screen. Huffing, he accepts it. “Sister?” He greets in confusion. 

“Desire set up another meeting, and this time didn’t say that Dream’s boyfriend should show up or else,” she mutters, and Dream’s heart drops, rubbing his face. Fuck. “So, you know. Just saying it here and not in our groupchat so Desire won’t be so, well.” 

“They will be,” he says, suddenly a lot more tired. Especially with Hob’s constant lies, the lack of touching, Desire’s apparent need to see Hob as his partner― “thank you sister,” he replies shortly, hanging up as he grits his teeth. 

Grabbing a red pillow next to him, he screams into it, at least transferring the screaming inside his brain to the outside. 

-

Dream is ― between jobs, at the moment, unsure what to do next― 

And there’s bashing on the door, which thankfully distracts him from looking at employment listings. Sighing, he opens it, then blinks at Matthew, with Hob hanging off his shoulder like a limpet. “He’s your problem now,” is Matthew says before Hob is shoved to him, and Dream freezes as Hob groans into his shoulder, the soft heat of Hob making his skin tingle as Matthew leaves. 

Blinking, he shuts the door as Hob leans into him, and he scrunches his nose at the beer he can smell from the other man. Dream doesn’t want to take of a drunk Hob ― but also, Hob isn’t shifting away, so he pats the other’s shoulder and takes them to their kitchen. “Usually you’re better at this,” he comments as he gets out a glass of water, putting it into Hob’s free hand. 

“Dr’m,” Hob slurs, staring at him with wide brown eyes ― and the hand leaves the glass to hold Dream’s cheek, and he stills, can feel his blood rush wildly up to the touch as he swallows. “‘Msorry,” Hob slurs, pressing into the where his ear meets his jaw. 

“You have nothing to apologise for,” he chokes out, confused as he soaks up the other’s body heat, the press of Hob against his side. Swallowing again, he picks up the glass and puts it up, Hob grabbing it. “Drink.” 

Hob huffs, but drinks. Dream tries not to stare too obviously at the way Hob’s throat works, at the odd amount of stubble leading down to soft skin ― and Dream looks away hastily as the glass is put down on the counter. “Dream,” Hob says, sounding a bit more lucid. Though, hands do grab his cheeks and he can feel his skin heating under the touch as Hob turns his face until their eyes meet. 

His mouth dries at the intensity of Hob’s eyes, brain no doubt working hard in between all the alcohol. “Hob,” he says, matching the other’s tone. “You’re drunk,” he says, unsure what pointing it out will accomplish. 

Hob’s hands caress him, and he shivers under the callused fingers, not wanting to break the contact ― but also, he should, before something regrettable happens. Like Hob coming closer, and Dream can’t find it in him to break from the other’s gaze, “I want,” Hob whispers ― and a thumb grazes the edge of his lip― 

Dream’s mind crashes as he pulls away Hob’s hands, who stares down at them in confusion as Dream takes a deep breath. “You’re drunk,” he repeats, more for himself as he wills his heart to not beat out of his chest. “Let’s,” he mumbles, leading Hob to his bedroom. 

“Sometimes, I think,” Hob says, pressing him against the doorframe, and he sucks in a breath at hands going into his hair, pulling him to look at Hob again. 

Hob’s expression is that inscrutable type again, and all Dream can think is I’m gay. Which feels like a very fucking inopportune time to think that, considering how, again, drunk, Hob is. 

It doesn't stop him from thinking it again as Hob chest presses against his, fingers threading more through his hair deliciously, and Dream’s sure Hob can feel insanely fast his heart is beating, can feel his pulse hammering in his neck as it arches. “Dream,” Hob says, voice rough and low― 

His name said like that becomes a reality check and he forces him away ― or pushes Hob into his room, the door shutting loudly. Dream presses his head against the door, cool against his heated skin as he takes calming breaths. 

Drunk. He was drunk ― he’s drunk, Dream thinks to himself desperately, can still feel Hob’s touches, the searing heat down to his bones.

-

A finger presses into his mouth, rough and shiveringly familiar, arousal coursing through him at the simple touch. “My partner,” Hob says, other hand coming up to caress his cheek. “All mine, aren’t you?” 

Dream whines, arching up into the solid body above him, the  heat of him maddening. “Please, yes,” he keens, shuddering as Hob leans down to kiss him, slow and toe-curling deep, the press of it going into his bones. “Please,” he croaks. 

“Dream, my Dream,” Hob whispers into him, sharp teeth and soft stubble making him gasp as they go down his jaw, down his throat ― with Hob’s hands trailing down his naked body. The teeth biting down his throat make him ache, wanting it all over as he scratches up Hob’s arms to scratch up his shoulder blades. 

“Yours,” he breathes, senseless to anything that’s not Hob, that’s not the overwhelming bliss he feels, cock leaking under Hob’s dark stare. 

Hob presses down on his lower half, hazy heat making him whimper as his hands go into Hob’s hair as more marks get placed on his throat, down to his collarbones. Fingers enter his mouth and he licks them, sucking them until Hob lets out a breathy moan. “I want you,” Hob whispers, a finger flat on his tongue as the other’s trace around his mouth, making his whine.

The fingers leave and Dream misses them already, mouth feeling empty as Hob rests his forehead against his cheek ― and he can only cry out as slick fingers touch his cock, stroking it gently. “Hob,” he keens, stars exploding behind his eyes as Hob strokes him to a hurtling orgasm―

“Hob!” He cries out, snapping to awareness sharply as he wakes up. Slapping a hand around his mouth, he groans at his sticky pants as his heart-rate calms down. Letting out another groan, he curls up and pulls a pillow close, hugging it tightly as he tries to linger in the wet dream.

-

Dream feels he’s going insane, just a bit. Which isn’t helped the meet-up with his siblings tomorrow, Desire texting him every day about his boyfriend― 

And said ‘boyfriend’ being even more reserved than usual. With an added bonus of being angry, that Dream knows more from the way Hob slammed the door shut in the morning, then anything else. 

Even Dream’s resurgence of wet dreams, filled with comforting and rough hands is only enough to keep him from―well, he doesn’t know, but at least the memories are enough to keep him somewhat sane as he comes to terms with the enormity of his feelings towards Hob. Mainly because there’s an absence of Hob’s smile and laughter directed towards him, or the inane things Hob would talk about.

Dream stares at Hob on the other sofa, nose in a book. At least Hob doesn’t seem as angry, though he can’t help the dread he feels at what he’s going to ask. Dread and exhaustion ― over all this. 

“Hob?” He says, taking a deep breath as Hob hums, still reading his history book. “I’m meeting up with sibling’s tomorrow, and―” 

“Can’t make it,” is all Hob replies with, voice short and final. Dream scowls, some of his exhaustion turning into irritation, prickling in his bones. 

“But Desire has been―they’ve been, and having my partner there―” 

Hob finally looks up, a scowl on his face, “but I’m not your partner. I’m―why not just ask any of the other men you’ve been fucking?!” Hob asks, tone acrid at the end, book fluttering as he gestures with his hand. 

“Because they’re not you!” 

The silence is absolute as Dream realises, belatedly, what he said in the moment. Hob’s brows furrow, anger leaving his face as Hob gives him a confused stare. Sighing deeply, Dream covers his face with his hands, too tired to take it back, and apparently wanting to bare his soul. Where it’ll likely be crushed, he’ll deal with those emotions in about a week or so. 

Dream chuckles, and it sounds insane to his ears, “they’re not. I did ― be with other men, just to know, that I’m not,” he frowns, annoyed with the way his words come out in a jumble. Frowning, he considers his next words, “you ruined all those men for me. I kept searching for the way you held me, or the way you kissed, and in the end they never matched up because I wanted―I want. You,” he finishes quietly.

“Me?” Hob asks, the almost-amazement in it making him look up. “You’re not just saying that?” 

“Why would I just say that?” He hisses. “I discovered I’m gay because I enjoyed kissing you so much, then discovered that I have feelings for you which I never realised because I thought I was str―”

 Mercifully, his ramblings are cut-off. By Hob’s lips on his, hands framing his face and Dream lets out a sound of relief as he grabs onto the other’s shoulders. The kiss itself is chaste, but considering how sparsely Hob’s touched him, this is all he needs as they press against each other, Hob gently leading them over to the larger sofa. 

“I have feelings for you too,” Hob says against him, brown eyes soft and affectionate. 

Dream huffs and pulls away, grabbing Hob’s wrists tightly and tugs them down to the sofa. “I thought you said you wouldn’t fall in with me,” he states, confused. 

Hob smiles and gives him a you’re an idiot look, “I’ve been in love with you for ages, long before that,” Hob says, tone much like his expression. 

-

His lips feel bruised and bitten, but pulling away from Hob is ― unthinkable, unfathomable. And Hob is the same, hands on his waist and biting down his throat, skin tingling as he shivers, Hob biting over already-made marks. 

“I missed this,” he whispers, patting the other’s beard. Though, some things are not that familiar, the way he sits on Hob’s lap, and he definitely would’ve missed this if he had it, the solid heat beneath him. “Not just the kissing, but you touching me. You stopped,” he breathes, can hear the whine of it as Hob kisses him, hands going under his shirt. 

“I missed it too,” Hob replies quietly, nails digging into his waist and Dream shivers, pleasure zinging up his spine. “It was just easier not to ― otherwise I’d never let go,” Hob says into his skin, and Dream swallows, nails scratching up his sides, “I’d never stop.” 

“Don’t stop,” he pleads, moving one of his hands to get under Hob’s shirt, feeling the hot skin ― and Dream keens, fingers stretching into the hair on Hob’s belly. He can feel Hob’s moan, can feel him pressing up as they share a spine-tingling kiss. Or maybe that’s the nails trailing up his spine, then back down. “Hob.”

The hand traces the edge of his pants until it reaches the front, making Dream’s dick throb, bringing awareness to how hard he is, “can I?” Hob asks, voice rough and eyes dark as they stare at him. 

Dream spares a moment to think how he’ll survive this, when this already feels like so much, but saying no ― or peeling himself off Hob isn’t an option. “Yes,” he whispers, bracing himself mentally as Hob kisses him again, and he almost bites Hob’s tongue as the hand goes into his pants, fingers trailing up his cock. Dream lets out a startled sound, mind firing at the touch as fingers caress his balls, then make their way to his leaking tip. 

His own furtive imaginings pale in comparison to the explorative way Hob strokes him, wiping his head clean of thoughts as he holds onto Hob’s chest, rough hair under his hand as he gasps into the other’s mouth. Grinding down, he can feel Hob’s cock, hard and ― untouched, which Dream wants to remedy, remembering his other hand as he undoes Hob’s pants somehow, running on instinct and need as he slides his hand to hold Hob’s cock, which is worth it alone for the way Hob’s hand jerks, the way he moans. 

Somehow, they separate enough for Hob’s shirt to disappear, showing heated skin and hair as they stroke each other into a frenzy, and Dream’s teeth ache. Hob’s so warm and responsive, a delightful stream of moaning his name, and Dream keeps staring at Hob’s throat, at his collarbones, the sweat gathering on them from their rutting― 

So he bites down near Hob’s adam’s apple, tasting the tangy sweat, can feel Hob shudder, can feel the startled whine ― and the sudden wetness coating his hand as he sucks a mark into Hob’s throat. “Dream,” Hob breathes, an arm pulling him closer, the hand on his cock pressing into him in ways that make him feel even more senseless, fucking into Hob desperately as his orgasm crashes into him. 

He can feel Hob breathing into his hair as Dream rests his forehead against Hob’s collarbone, brain taking it’s time to be more than the orgasm he just had, can feel Hob stroking his softening cock and he shivers at the feeling, letting out a whimper. 

Letting go of Hob’s cock, he looks down at the come covering it, and then wipes it onto Hob’s jeans. Hob yelps in offense ― then takes out his own hand, wiping it on Dream’s pants. “The nerve,” Hob mutters, and Dream smiles, though it disappears as Hob tenses, arms keeping him trapped against the other man. Blinking, he puts his arms around Hob’s shoulders, pulling up to look at the other’s wary face. Dream just kisses Hob, who goes oh, relaxing into it. 

“Will you,” he frowns, the words sudden, brain still getting itself together. Though, it’s what he was planning to ask anyway, “willl you join me as my actual partner, tomorrow? Entirely optional, the thing tomorrow, I just―” 

Hob’s brows, raised high as he talks ― rambles, again, that’s meant to be Hob’s quirk, though he did also pick up Hob’s quirk of thinking Shakespeare is overrated―until Hob cuts him off with a kiss, fingers stroking his hair. “Magically, I think tomorrow’s been cleared, and would love nothing more than to join my partner,” Hob says, eyes sparkling.

-

Walking on the sidewalk to where they’re meeting his siblings, Dream frowns, “we could always go back home,” he states, and he can feel Hob chuckle, the arm on his shoulders pulling him even closer to his partner. 

“Tempting. But we should probably let the place air out first,” Hob points out reasonably, and Dream pouts. “And I want to pay for your lunch!” 

“Hm,” he says, knowing the place they’re going to is very expensive, so Hob may change his tune once they’re inside. Speaking of, they walk in, his gaggle of siblings sitting at a large table in the centre. Death waves him over, and Hob squeezes him tighter, a kiss placed on the side of his head. Dream can feel his face heat up as they sit down. “Hello.” 

“What’s he doing here?” Desire asks right off the bat, golden eyes narrowed at Hob. 

“I was invited, wasn’t I?” Hob says, cheerful grin obvious in his voice as Dream picks up the menu, Hob’s chair squeaking closer to look at it with him. Dream looks over as Hob pales, noticing the lack of prices on it. 

“Desire is paying today,” he points out quietly, “you can buy me dinner tomorrow,” he offers in compromise, and Hob takes a deep breath, their heads brushing. 

Hob frowns, “fine,” he says, pouting and Dream smiles, oddly charmed that Hob’s so disgruntled by it. 

Desire makes a disgusted sound, making Dream look at his sibling over the menu, “what exactly were you expecting, sibling?” 

They cross their arms and sniff, “another no-show, of course. Or even terrible news,” they say with glee, like a break-up clear in their unsaid words. 

“Wow,” Hob whispers next to him. “Don’t you have better things to do than be obsessed with me?” Hob asks, and many of his siblings crack up laughing as Desire sputters. He’s even chuckling as Hob tugs him into a kiss, soft and pleased, ending with their noses brushing. 

“I’m not obsessed with the likes of you!” Desire hisses, face a bright red. “I’m not! Right, sister?” They say, facing Despair, who just shrugs. “There is ― I’m not!” 

“Alright, enough of this,” Death says between laughter, her stern look quieting the laughs, with Desire grumbling to themself as they hide in the menu, “we should order!” 

[Fin]

[initialsaint]

Dain in Fourth Wing is infinitely more understandable when you look at things from his POV.

He watched his best friend get effectively sentenced to death by her own mother when Violet was put into the Riders' Quadrant, having trained to be a scribe her whole life. He has also watched her deal with her disability and knows how it works- he's had to reset her joints himself. She immediately has multiple people who want her dead and aren't shy about it. Her own wingleader wants her dead and has the power to do it without repercussions. Dain is her superior too, sure, but he has to answer to the main guy who wants to kill her. On top of all that he has spent a year away from her watching people who've trained for years to be riders die every weak.

And it's not like Violet wants to be a rider at first. It's easy to forget three books in, but she starts out fully convinced she's going to die. She has never given the slightest impression that she wants to be a rider. When Dain says he can sneak her out, at first she says no because her mother will force her back, not because she wants to be a rider. He saw her passion for scribehood before that life was taken away from her. He saw how much she looked up to her dad.

Dain doesn't know what she's thinking or understand why she WANTS this because it completely contradicts everything he's known about her their entire lives. The whole "we climbed trees together" doesn't do the fact that they really did grow up together justice. Before he left for Basgiath Dain would've known her better than her own mother. Of course he's confused.

And he gets more confused when she's suddenly in some sort of something with her direct superior who also wanted her dead. Yeah, they're adults, but Xaden is very much in charge of her and did not hide his intentions. We as readers see what happened, but Dain has no idea, and is rightfully concerned. It's not just out of jealousy (though it plays a part) it's because to an outsider the whole thing is insane.

We see things from Violet's perspective, so we see how insulted she is that Dain sees her as lesser or not capable of surviving as a rider. We don't see Dain's utter internal desperation to not let his best friend- and at that point, the woman he loves- die.

He definitely fucked up in FW, and deserved the treatment he got from Violet, but honestly a lot of his actions were justified.

[ghouly-boiiiii]

The potential for Ghoulcy to be canon may be more likely than y'all think...

Honestly, if it were any other IP I would say there's no way, but this is Fallout we're talking about. A franchise which prides itself on indulging in the ridiculous and absurd scenarios it can come up with.

They've already done it in the games. Hancock is a romance candidate for your character in Fallout 4 and he's a ghoul, so like, the idea of pairing a human with a ghoul is not a new idea in the franchise.

Plus, I feel like there has been some potential actual foreshadowing for it in the show. Not just Norms husband talk in the beginning, but the fact that Lucy is a very frisky lady and not squeamish in the slightest both lend itself to the possibility. Now, that could all just be for the funny, but they do seem like very oddly specific choices on the writers part.

As for Max, I think the line the doctor says, "Will you still want the same things when you've become a whole other animal all together?" is gonna be pretty relevant here. Lucy thought she was gonna find her dad, then go back to her vault and live happily ever after with her LITERAL knight in shining armor. But now that she knows the truth... that probably doesn't seem as appealing as it used to be anymore.

So yeah... probably still unlikely BUT I don't think it's at all out of the realm of possibility. I can definitely see the creators going in that direction just to be funny and shock people, but maybe even more so if they find out there are fans who are actually into it... 😅 I mean who knows? I can dream...

But yes, I know. Maybe this is just all wishful thinking, but I don't care. I'm gonna ride this train til it crashes and burns!! Ghoulcy forever, baby!!

EDIT: I just wanted to quickly add that Walton Goggins also talked about how he and the creators deliberately set out to try and make the Ghoul "kind of hot" (which they obviously succeeded at, because here we are lol). And while, sure, that may have just been for freaky fans like us, there could be another reason if their intention from the beginning was to have a romantic arc with The Ghoul. Gonna give us that whole Beauty and the Beast trope, Fallout edition y'all haha 😃

[botchedsundoll]

Brrrroo you cooked with them previous headcanons....

How do you think the kengan dudes would react to reader taking them to a bar/ attempting to get them drunk

G. WONGSAWAT, O. TOKITA, R. KURE, C. IMAI, SP. YOROIZUKA X READER (SEPARATE)

ೃ⁀➷ sypnosis; bar hc’s

ೃ⁀➷ warnings; none!!!!!2’qnqnw

ೃ⁀➷ author’s note; hi hru guys, bro all ive been doing is playing ff15 so like i hvsnt been reading kengn omega and kneojnf me i wont do so anytime soon ummmm, r these ooc yes probs but IDC in my world this is them💔

G. WONGSAWAT

are you crazy

first of all, well done if you even managed to drag him out to a bar or club setting in the first place. second of all, if you did succeed in doing so it’s most likely to make sure you don’t do any dumb shit and keep an eye on you

once you start practically shoving pints infront of him, claiming that he needs to ‘ease up a bit’ or ‘this one’s really good’ once a fruity colourful cocktail is comes into his view, he might cave eventually and take a sip

don’t count on much, though. he’s definitely not getting drunk or even tipsy - he still needs to keep a look out on you! and have you seen the guy? it takes a lot of alcohol for it to hit

definitely starts mixing your drinks as he notices you get tipsier - your almost clear screwdriver suddenly turns a rather orange colour… not as if you’d notice anyway

overall, he’s there for you to latch onto his arm and ramble to him with a small smile on his face before taking you home for the night whenever he deems appropriate

O. TOKITA

the problem with him is that he’d genuinely rather eat. his appetite’s insatiable

yeah, he might have a pint or two to wash it all down - maybe a third one if you’re paying but it’s generally quite difficult to get him drunk without breaking your bank

he doesn’t necessarily drink often, or anything heavy, but for some reason his tolerance is crazy

doesn’t mind going out to the bar with you - as long as you buy him something to eat whilst you’re there. oh, and let him fight any guy that so much as dares to look at you a certain way. then he’s 100% on board with this little trip

also, how’s he supposed to fight if he’s drunk? huh?

starts prodding whatever he’s eating against your lips, telling you to ‘open up’ as you need ‘something to eat after all that drinking’ - also probably an extremely poor attempt at sobering you up even the slightest

C. IMAI

he’s young, so he likes to drink a little here and there

yet refrains from doing so often, it’s REALLY rare for him to get drunk as he needs to keep in ‘top shape’ for all his training or whatever he’s came up with in his head

he won’t decline a bar visit with you. but will most likely settle on a pint or two, sometimes choosing not to drink at all. one of the rare times he does it has to be a good occasion - someone’s birthday, or an important celebration or event

trying to get him to drink when he’s not feeling up to it will simply get a chuckle out of him, teasingly asking you what your intentions are

such a lightweight.

settles on watching you down drink after drink over the course of the evening, amused by your rambling

R. KURE

why would you even want to get this guy drunk? he’s even more insufferable than usual

he’s loud, rowdy and constantly trying to start fights with random strangers at the bar

oh yeah, all of a sudden he loves cracking joke after joke. and usually it’s at your expense

you two definitely get into an arguement whenever he’s had something to drink because of how he acts LOL he just genuinely makes you wanna strangle him

a pretty frequent drinker, so he wouldn’t be opposed to a bar visit - he just doesn’t usually drink that much to get him drunk. but there are times when he does

whiskey. no mixer.

SP. YOROIZUKA

takes it as a challenge

will literally drink any and every drink you offer him, desperate to not lose whatever stupid challenge he seems to think this is and to prove himself to you

and truthfully, you don’t even know if he’s drunk or not. he’s VERY good at acting relatively sober whenever he’s drunk - i mean, he’s all over the place when he’s sober anyways

you two most likely see who can drink the most. he’s beat you every single time and ended up carrying you home. each and every damn time without fail

in conclusion, wouldn’t recommend trying to get him drunk. you end up blackout, your bank account drained and a rambling saw paing. which is pretty much the same saw paing as usual

he absolutely loves it though. he loves winning whatever ‘game’ he thinks this is