devilat-thedoor · 6 months ago
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thoughts? questions? concerns? anybody?
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thebestofoneshots · 10 months ago
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This isn’t really a request but this came to may head at three in the morning ok Imagine like your getting fucked by one of the Marauders or all of them and yk those moving pictures they have in the wizard world image they have a whole box filled of the reader getting back shots and EVERYTHING 😵‍💫🥴
THE STASH | marauders x reader
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Pairing: J.P. x S.B. x R.L x Female Reader
Word Count: 5 k
Warnings: Smut, finger fucкing, a little bit of PTSD on Sirius, pictures taken w/o reader’s knowledge, reader being insecure and gaining back confidence thanks to the boys.
Prompt: You find the boy's stash, filled with lusty pictures and they make you feel insecure, thoughts about not being good enough for them arise, the catch is, that’s THE OLD stash. (Happy ending)
Notes: I had a similar idea already in my head so when I saw this ask I just knew I had to make it happen.
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♡ NSFW: Smut under the cut
You knocked on their door a couple of times when no one said anything, you decided to let yourself  in, “Rem? Jamie? Sirius?” 
No answer. 
You looked around and went to sit by Remus’ bed. He said he’d see you in their room later that night for study and maybe something more, but with study club and prefect duties, you assumed he was as busy as the two other boys were with the quidditch training. You didn’t mind it much though, their room was a lot more quiet to study in than yours, and it was always fun to see their surprised faces when they walked in and you were there. 
You were taking your book and some parchment out when a pot of ink fell from your bag and onto the floor. There was a thud and then another one and then it spilled all over. You gasped and left the bag on the side before leaning down to pick it up. You whispered a quick “reparo,” and the crystal pot wasn’t leaking anymore, but the ink was still on the floor and some of it was spilling down the wooden floorboard. 
“Fuck,” you whispered as you summoned a napkin from your bag and started to clean as best as you could, but it didn’t seem to be working, it was still spilling down into what looked like a nook on the floor. You frowned and looked at the wooden board in detail only to realize there was a section that was a little more worn than the rest. 
You frowned and tried to lift the board by digging your nails on the side but it wasn’t working, you huffed and walked over to Sirius’ night table to see if he still had his pocket knife there. Luckily he did, and you took it, pulling out one of the blades and using it as a crane to lift the wooden board.
Once you did you realized the ink had slipped inside most of the things they kept in there. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whispered continuously as you tried to pull off the things in fear that they would be ruined with the ink. There were some old letters, some hand-rolled cigars, a few potions and then a small box, that one had gotten most of the ink. You winced and pulled it out, biting your lip as you tried to concentrate. You had been so busy with the cleaning, that you never saw the spiderwebs that covered most of the items. 
“Evanesco,” you whispered, focused solely on the ink, which successfully disappeared, but so did the small lock they had on the box and it opened by itself. You blinked a couple of times when you saw what was inside. You carefully grabbed one of the images, a stunning red-headed witch, winking at you as she bounced around, with her very large, and very beautiful breasts in full display. 
You gulped as you stared at her, she wiggled her shoulders a bit and gave you another wink. You sucked in a breath, she was freaking stunning. And probably there because of James’ fixation with redheads. 
The rest of the pictures were turned over, but curiosity got the best of you, and you took another piece of paper from the box. That one was bent in four, as if it had been ripped from a magazine. You slowly unbend it, first one fold and then the other and there was another stunning witch in the image. 
This one had smaller breasts, but she was leaning down on a bed, perfectly manicured hands brushing over her own folds, two perfectly long and well-shaped legs on the side. She had dark skin and the light reflected on her legs as she accommodated on the bed, her head leaning back with what looked like a sigh as she rolled her hand over her clit. She too was beautiful, and perfect. 
You sat the image on the side, next to the redhead and pulled another one. One of the smaller ones, only to be met with yet another stunning witch, perfectly flat stomach, and beautiful perky breasts, she was riding a pillow, one hand on the bed and looking straight at you as she bit her lips, inviting, enticing. You placed her next to the others as you pulled another image. And then another, and then another. 
Image after image, perfectly attractive witches in all sorts of positions, some by themselves, some with companions (either other hot witches or the cock of a wizard or two). You pressed your legs together, there was a mix of feelings inside you. First of all, you were a little turned on after seeing such kind of imagery. But second, and most important. You were a little upset. 
Which was ridiculous, you knew. Expecting the boys to pleasure themselves with the thought of you in mind when you weren’t around was stupid, especially when there were clearly much better and hotter witches in the market. What with their perfectly round breasts and their beautiful lips and flat stomachs and long legs and rosy cunts. You looked at them with a bit of a frown, they all had something in common, they were perfect, and you? You were far, far from that. 
Now you weren’t upset that the boys were doing themselves, you knew men needed a lot more release than women did and you tried to keep that in mind as you placed all the beautiful witches back in their box, but you couldn’t help but think: Did they also think of them when they were with you? Did they imagine the beautiful redhead’s breasts when they were kissing yours, or maybe that they were in between the legs of that girl with the gorgeous reflective skin instead of your own? 
While the pictures were meant to be stimulating, and they had been a little at the beginning, the more you thought about them, the more you thought they were so much unlike you and the more your thoughts continued to spiral. 
“Such beautiful witches…” you murmured as you closed the box, “and they are equally gorgeous men… why are they–“ You didn’t finish your words out loud, too painful to say them outside of your head. 
Why are they with me? 
You carefully placed the box back into its spot, cleaned the rest of the things that had gotten stained and placed everything back in their stash. You carefully placed the wooden plank back where it belonged and put Sirius’ knife back in his drawers. You took a deep breath, not feeling up for much and instead ripped a page from your notebook. 
“I’m feeling a little sick, see you boys tomorrow.”
It was simple enough not to make them question further, you left it on top of Remus’ bed and left the room. 
The following day, the boys being as marvelous and attentive as they were, had gotten you to forget about the stash almost completely. And things had been absolutely perfect since then.
At least until a few days later, you had been playing wizards chess with Sirius on his bed, and after he beat you for the third time making you feel both hopeless and a little dumb for not anticipating his moves –which was also ridiculous because Sirius had been a wizard chess champion– he offered to make it up to you. 
It was in the spark in his eyes that you knew exactly what he meant. You bit your lip, Remus was reading a book on his bed while James was snoring lightly next to him, one hand draped across the other boy’s torso. You knew they’d want to join in when they realized what you and Sirius were up to, and it sent a shiver down your stomach. 
“What do you say, doll?” Sirius asked as he levitated the chess board and the broken pieces to the side, inviting you to come closer.
You huffed “You think you can make it up with your little puppy eyes?” 
Sirius pretended to think about it for a second before nodding. “While they should be enough, I’m still planning to use more than just my looks to make you feel better.” 
You returned the smile and leaned closer to him, moving to straddle his sitting form, his back was pressed to the headboard and you could feel he was at least a little excited as you leaned into him. 
“Did you win so many times just so you could say that to me?” You asked in disbelief, you were drumming your fingers near the nape of his neck.
“I might have been a little extra attentive,” he replied as he grabbed onto your hips and placed a kiss on your neck. “I know how riled up you get when you can’t best me,” he said before placing another kiss, this time further up, “I kind of enjoy seeing your little frown, and angry looks,” he admitted, he was now kissing your jaw. You rolled your hips into his and he tightened his grip on your hips in response. 
You smiled, loving the fact that you knew exactly what Sirius liked and how to get him worked up, at least as much as he knew of you. You rolled your hips again and he reached his hand under your skirt, feeling the outside of your leg before flicking his hand to the inside of it. To the softer skin that he grabbed with firm tenderness. Itching his hand closer and closer, making sure to massage your skin, tauntingly. 
You leaned your head onto his shoulder, letting his beautiful hair fall on your face as you rolled your hips again, a lot softer this time, matching his pace and wanting his hand to come closer. 
“Eager, are we?” he teased.
“Shhh, you’ll wake up Jamie,” you said as you leaned over to kiss his neck. He bit his lip to hold back a moan and finally placed his hand over your panties, tracing a soft line over your slit. You bucked your hips against his hand and he chuckled lightly. 
Remus, who had been focused on his book so far, frowned and looked up at the two of you, smirking a little when he noticed what you were up to. Of course, he knew that chuckle, it was Sirius’ sexy teasing laugh. 
“Easy love or you’ll be the one to wake up Prongs,” he said, leaning his head to your ear and softly nibbling on it. He traced his hand over your slit a couple more times, and you bucked your hips again. He smiled, you didn’t see it, but you felt it against your skin, “All right, all right…” he said as he flicked his finger over the hem of your panties and moved them aside. You leaned even closer to him as he dug his fingers in, “All of this for me?” he teased as he felt how wet you were. 
Remus, who was now only half looking at his book, had somewhat of a fun time as he listened in to your conversation with Sirius. He would be lying if he said he didn’t find it stimulating. But he also knew Sirius had had a bit of a bad week, so he thought of letting him have you just for himself, at least for a little bit longer, or until James woke up, just as eager to join in. 
“Sirius please,” you whined with a frown and he smiled, letting his fingers trace up until they found your clit, making circles over it, which had you bucking your hips against him again. You bit the side of your cheek as you allowed him to move his hand, leaning in to kiss his neck again, to muffle any possible moans with his skin. 
“May I?” he asked, teasing your entrance with his index. 
“Mhm,” you said and bucked your hips again, eager for him to do his thing. And he complied, digging his finger inside and allowing it to move inside you as expertly as ever. 
“So tight,” he whispered, Remus’ cock twitching at Sirius’ words and reconsidering whether he actually wanted to wait more before joining in. 
He did not, so he carefully lifted James’ arm from his torso and walked towards Sirius’ bed. He sat right beside the two of you, a cocky smile on his face as he tilted his head to the side, “You two having fun there?” he asked, “without me?” 
“You’re always welcome to join in Moony,” Sirius said with a teasing grin as he pulled you back just a little. You had both of your hands on Sirius’ shoulders, and you were now using them as leverage to ride his hand. 
Moony smiled, “I might just watch for a while,” he said, leaning back and placing one of his hands on the back of Sirius’ neck. He knew how much small actions and touches like that made Sirius react, and he smiled as the boy’s breath hitched in his throat. He then turned to look at you, a mischievous grin on his face, he took his wand out and whispered “Evanesco.”  
Suddenly both your shirt and bra disappeared, giving both boys the perfect sight of your breasts perking up at the sudden cold. Sirius grunted as he stared, and Remus hummed satisfied. You clenched around Sirius’ fingers –which were now two– whimpered and let out a soft moan. 
But then, as you felt their gazes on you, and you felt your own boobs bouncing as you continued to ride Sirius’ expert fingers, you started to feel self-conscious, of how you looked, of how they were staring at you, on whether they were actually thinking of you or imagining something else, someone else. Maybe the beautiful redhead? The busty blonde? The reflextive-skinned goddess with the beautiful legs? The brunette with the beautiful ass?
Suddenly the lights flickered, and they were gone. You relaxed, Sirius felt the grip on his shoulder untensing, but he thought it was because you were close. But Sirius liked to see your fucked out face when he had his fingers inside you, and in seconds the lights were turned back on, and you tensed instantly. 
The muscle movements were normal, but the way you suddenly dug your nails into his shoulders was not, at least not in the moment it was happening and not in the way it was either. Something was up.
He stopped moving his hand in an instant, “you all right, angel?” he asked, a small wrinkle forming on his forehead as his brows furrowed together. 
You seemed to be lost in thought for a second, Remus noticed that too, “Yeah… just. Let’s leave the lights off today.” 
Now it was Remus’ turn to frown, he took his hand from Sirius’ neck and sat straighter, pulling back and leaning in closer to look at your face, his hand instinctively traveling to your thigh.  Sirius, with one hand still inside you –now unmoving– was brushing his thumb in circles on your waist, they were both giving you their unwavering attention, and your breath hitched in your throat. You looked at them nervously, your eyes traveling from boy to boy at unprecedented speeds and you bit your lip, and then the lights were off again. 
Once they were off, you sighed and leaned your head on Sirius’ shoulder. He felt how you relaxed in an instant, and his frown deepened. “Angel, what is it?” 
“Nothing, light’s giving me a headache,” you lied. 
Sirius turned to Remus, while he couldn’t see much, he knew Remus would probably be able to see his questioning stance easily, with his enhanced senses, at least. “You believe her?” he mouthed. 
Remus shook his head in response, and when he realized Sirius couldn’t actually see he turned to you and placed his hand on your shoulder. “Are you sure that’s it, luv?” 
You swallowed, which was enough indication you weren’t, and you lied again, “Yes, let’s just, continue as is.” 
Sirius knew you were lying, and he hated it when you lied to him, he also hated not being able to see shit while Remus could see your every reaction so he turned the lights on, didn’t even use his wand for it, and you tensed again. 
You were taken aback by that and swallowed thickly. Your breath was slightly ragged and it was not because you were turned on, in fact, if anything, you felt rather apprehensive now. You cleared your throat. “You know, maybe I’m just not feeling it,” you lied again and pulled yourself off of his hand. 
Sirius felt way too many things at the same time, he was worried about your reaction since he thought he’d done something wrong. He was angry because he knew you were hiding the exact reason; he wanted, no, he needed to know what was up so he would never do it again, and thirdly, he was upset, he’d felt…rejected. And by you, no other. 
By the time Sirius reacted again, you were buttoning your shirt up and walking towards their door. James, who had been asleep till then, was finally awoken by the lights coming on and off and the small commotion going on. He was confused, at first he thought you were just playing, but perhaps that was not it. 
But Sirius was faster, and he jumped over Remus to get to the door just as you were opening it and shut it closed. You jumped back just a little, shocked at how fast he’d moved, you were now the one with a frown, anger bubbling to your chest, Sirius’ temper had always been something you’d learn to deal with, and even if you knew it was justified now, that didn’t stop yours from flaring up. 
“That’s not it,” he said confidently, “that’s not it and you’re not getting out until you tell me what’s upset you.” 
“Sirius,” Remus said now, ever the conciliator. He’d also stood from the bed and walked the few strides left to get next to the two of you. 
Maybe it wasn’t the best reaction you could have had, but you were already pretty shaken up by the situation at hand, by your rather torturous thoughts and by Srius’ slamming of the door. “Oh, so you know my body better than I do?” you said defensively, “you would know if I have or not a headache.” 
“YES!” he responded stubbornly. “I know how it reacts when it has a headache and it’s not the way you were reacting now!” 
You shook your head as you scoffed, James was now sitting on the bed looking at the situation both confused and worried. 
“Moony! Back me up on this?” he said as he turned his face to him. 
Remus bit his lip, as he shook his head, thinking before speaking. “He’s right luv, that was not your headache reaction.” 
You scoffed, “ff course, you’d take his side.” 
“I’m not taking any sides.” 
“Well you are, just don’t realize it!” you said angrily. “If I say I have a headache, I have one and that’s it. Now, I want to leave.” 
“Darling,” Remus said as he let out a breath, he seemed worried and upset as well now, you were trying really hard not to feel bad about it, trying to remind yourself why you needed to leave. 
It was Sirius who spoke again, his lips quivering as he found the right words, “Just tell me what I did wrong, I’ll never do it again, I promise,” his voice broke near the end. He was panicking, he was terrified he’d hurt you and that you’d leave thinking the worst of him. You knew what was hapening had brought back some past trauma and you didn’t want to be the catalyst of another panick attack.
You took a deep breath when you heard him, your frown deepening as you considered your words, “I found your stash.” 
The three men went quiet in an instant. Sirius looked like a deer trapped in headlights, Remus’ jaw had tightened and you’d heard James’ gasp in the back. 
“Darling, I–“ Sirius tried to speak but you cut him off. 
“No, no,” you tried to reason, more with yourself than with him. “I get, it’s fine, you need your release time and all that, I don’t mind.” 
“Well, you clearly do,” Remus said. You felt a hand on your shoulder, it was James’. He had walked towards you the moment he heard about the stash but you hadn’t noticed until then. You flinched but missed the hurt look that etched his features as he looked at you. 
“Well yes. But it’s a stupid feeling nonetheless. I’ll get over it. Just need time.” 
“It was me,” James said from behind, “it was my idea, not Sirius’. Don’t be upset at him.” 
You swallowed thickly, not wanting to be angry at James for something so natural in men, let alone because you knew this whole mess was created due to your own thoughts and insecurities, not theirs. And now you were upsetting them, what a great bIoody girlfriend you were. 
“I don’t bIoody care whose idea it was!” you spat. “Please let me off,” you said then, leg bouncing, you wanted to get out before you said something that would upset them more. 
“We’ll never do it again if that makes you feel better,” Sirius tried. 
“No it– It fucking doesn’t, okay? It’s fine, it’s… Found it a couple of nights ago when my ink pot fell on the floor.” The three boys exchanged a look with each other, had either of them changed its spot? “It’s pretty fresh in my mind and– I just– I can’t stop thinking you’re imagining them while being with me.” 
“Them?” Sirius asked, confused. 
“The pretty witches!” you responded, almost angrily. Remus, who was in front of you looked confused, and you huffed before adding in more detail. “Beautiful redhead,” you looked at James. “Gorgeous blonde,” you added as you turned to Sirius. Then looked back at the taller boy, “need I elaborate?” 
You heard James gasp from behind. “She found the old stash!” 
“Ah, so you have a new and improved one,” you said now, and shook your head as you turned at the door. Sirius was leaning in and he had a cheeky smile on his face now, which pissed you off even further. 
“You could call it that,” he said with a shrug. 
“Sirius,” Remus said calmly again. “Don’t.” 
But Sirius just smiled instead, “Oh but, I’m impressed. Our lovely angel was jealous.” 
“I was not.” You said flatly. “Get off the door, please,” the last part was much more of a beg than a demand. 
Sirius shook his head, “not until you see the new stash.” 
Remus and James exchanged looks after that, not even sure if they should or shouldn’t stop Sirius. 
“I don’t want to see the witches you use to wank off now, it’s enough with the images already in my head. Can’t stop thinking of them, of you thinking about them when you’re looking at me.” 
Sirius’ face fell instantly, his teasing stance almost faltering but not his determined blockage of the door. 
“That’s not–“ 
“Have you considered perhaps it was the other way around?” Remus asked as he placed a slightly hesitant hand on your shoulder. 
“What?” 
“That we imagined you when looking at them.” 
You were taken aback by that. No, you hadn’t considered that. “What about the redhead, can’t tell me she wasn’t there because of James’ old obsession with Evans?” 
James sighed, it was. That’s why they had to get a new stash. 
“She needs to see the new stash,” Sirius said while looking at the two other boys. 
“I don’t think that’s a great idea,” James intervened, it had been his idea after all, and he had admitted it to you now. He didn’t want to have you get mad over something else, and this time your anger would be indisputably justifiable. 
“I think it is,” Sirius insisted. 
You sighed, “you can continue deciding if you’re going to show me your new fuckable witches or not a different day. Sirius, get off the door.” 
He shook his head and turned to James, “Please?” 
“I don’t want to see them! Enough is enough!” 
You turned to the side to try and find another exit when you bumped into Remus, he had a box in his hand. He raised it a bit, you knew what it was instantly. 
“Remus!” James complained and went to get it but was hastily stopped by Sirius who got in the way and trapped him in his arms. 
“Prongs behave!” He said sternly. 
The path to the door was free now, but Remus’ serious stance made you curious, even more when he moved his finger to his lips and bit hard enough to draw bIood. 
“What the fu–“ 
“It’s so no one can open but us,” he explained. “We bIood charmed it.” 
You looked at him with a shocked face, you didn’t think they’d go to such lengths to hide their spicy stuff, what the hell did they even have there?
Some of the metal hinges at the top moved around a little bit, looking almost like a miniature Gringotts vault, and then it snapped open. Remus pushed it your way. You looked at the three boys before picking the first image up. It was Remus, shirtless Remus on the day you’d gone swimming at the Potter’s last summer. He was pulling his hair back and water glistened all over his torso, he looked at you and winked, before turning to look at something else. 
You gasped and pulled another picture, it was James and Sirius, both also shirtless, and they were making out under a tree. Sirius had his leg in between James’ and was leaning onto him rather intensely. 
The next one was you, you had the swimsuit you’d bought that summer, the one you thought looked really good on you, and you were on your knees, looking for something on the sand, your ass was slightly prompted up and the picture was obviously focused on that. You swallowed thickly and went to grab another one. 
You again, this time while making out with Remus, his hand was on your ass and you had realized they were taking a picture, looking at the camera with a diverted gasp before covering the lens with your hand. 
You took another one, and this time around you were genuinely shocked, it was Remus, being blown by James. His pinky pretty lips wrapped around Rem’s cock. “Oh, wow.” 
James frowned, he knew what else there was in there and he wasn’t sure if he wanted you to see it, he had never felt worse about his own ideas than now. Responsible, he knew he had bertrayed you, in a way. You took the next picture and stared at it for a minute. 
It was you again, well, you’re back at least. You were riding Sirius, moving back and forth over his cock as he helped you, hands on your waist as he bit his lip. You didn’t see your face, but you knew it hadn’t been that long ago. If Sirius’ new tattoo was any telling. 
You looked at the boys shocked, you hadn’t even realized they’d taken the picture, but you looked as pretty as any witch in the other photos, how had they gotten you to look so good? 
They hadn’t done anything, it was just you. 
“You don’t have to–“ James started, but you had already picked up another picture.
“Shut up,” you said simply.
 You again, this time you were sprawled on the bed with a blindfold on your head. That had been on your birthday. James had one of his hands on your leg, dangerously close to your slit while Sirius was kissing your breast and sucking at your nipples. 
And there was more, a lot of pictures from that day, all in compromising positions. Some involving you and the boys, some involving only the boys on different occasions, some you remembered, some in which you hadn’t even been present. There was even one of Sirius wanking off to the picture of you in the swimsuit you had seen earlier. 
“I’m sorry–“ James said, now sounding distressed and shaking Sirius off him. “I’m sorry angel, we should have never done it.” 
You grabbed another one of the photos, it had clearly been rushed, the camera being hidden as you turned your head to look at the boys, this time around you were kneeling on the bed, and James was jerking himself off to you, teasing your entrance before pulling out completely and allowing his cum to fall over your ass and back. 
“You’re right.,” you said as you placed the pictures back in the box, expression neutral. “You should have never done it without asking me–” James swallowed. 
“Love I–“ 
“James, shut up!” you said again, giving the pictures another look. “You should have never done it without asking me first,” you said as you flipped through some more pics and tsking. “I would have helped.” 
James’ jaw dropped, and you looked at him with a cheeky smile. Sirius was looking at you proudly and satisfied with his choice while Remus stared at the picture you had in your hand. The one where you were getting a back shot but was shaky and blurry because the camera had been hidden before you saw it. 
You moved the picture up, holding it between your fingers as you displayed it to the boys, “What do you say we recreate this one, but with better quality?” 
Sirius scoffed a laugh and smiled. 
“I’ll get the camera,” Remus said simply.
James was still stunned, and you leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Sirius leaned from behind and kissed you on the cheek “I told them you should know about it from the beginning but they said you’re too pure for it.” 
You laughed at that, “you boys keep calling me angel,” you said as you turned to Sirius and wrapped your hands around his neck, “but I wouldn’t have done all the things I have with you all if I wasn’t the exact opposite,” you added with a smirk.
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This one might get a part two, if you guys wanna see that <3
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thischarmingmandalorian · 4 months ago
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I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship
Couple, Bar Chapter 1
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Summary: After you help Joel with a work project, he takes you out for drinks. When the bartender mistakes you for a couple, his brain short circuits.
Pairing: Single Dad Neighbor!Joel Miller X Reader
Warnings: Joel thinking being mean is flirting, alcohol, grinding on strangers, getting groped in public, no-no words. In my mind there's an age gap (10 years max) and I envision a mid-40s Joel, but I don't think it'll ever become apparent.
Word Count: 2.3k
Notes: Formatting on mobile is not for the weak, y'all, so if this looks like ass I'm sorry. I don't know what a contractor does. Song mentioned is Jenny (I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship) by Studio Killers. Full playlist is linked on the master post for this series (which I'll learn to link all together soon I promise I'M OLD, OK?!) Also I promise I have an English degree but if I read this one more time I'll lose the nerve to post it so ignore any mistakes I missed. Anyway love you bye.
While you weren't on your neighbor Joel's payroll, every now and then he'd knock on your door and sheepishly ask to borrow your "eye for design," which was Joel talk for "I need help knowing what handles look good on these cabinets I'm building and every other person in my life is busy."  
You and Joel had been neighbors for the better part of 5 years and had become relatively close in that time. If you were being honest with yourself, the first day you met you might have fallen in love, but since immediately jumping into a relationship with a newly-divorced single father wasn't on your five-year plan, those feelings were buried, albeit not always successfully.
Joel was charming, kind, and... Southern.  And while these were all things that made you head over heels for him, they were exactly what made it difficult to interpret his feelings for you. Were he and Sarah baking you Christmas cookies and hand delivering them to your door because he too had a crush, or was he just being neighborly? Was he grinning every time he said hello to you because he was a nice guy? What were you supposed to make of that one time, on his couch for movie night, when his hand lingered a little longer than normal on your thigh? You had no idea, and for the sake of your friendship, you were content not knowing.
On this particular day, Joel needed help matching paint colors to flooring samples and might as well have been color blind. He was building a house for a newlywed couple and their wishes for, as Joel put it, "some 1960s Brady Bunch bullshit" aesthetic meant nothing to him. You had spent the better part of an hour helping Joel match swatches of green and orange in ways that he had previously thought impossible, and as a thank you, he offered to buy you a drink at the first bar you spotted on the way home.
The first bar you spotted happened to be an almost-literal hole in the wall, but the packed parking lot indicated it was a place worth visiting.  Joel opened the door, beckoning you through the threshold ahead of him, and you're hit with a wall of smoke and the bump of a local dj working through his set. 
Luckily most of the people at the bar had already started drinking and were congregated in the middle of the tiny dance floor, making it easy to find two seats. Joel flagged the bartender over and ordered for the both of you, handing his card over to start a tab.
"Got you a beer, this place doesn't look like they'd make a good margarita," Joel shouts over the music. 
You smile, leaning in close to thank Joel. "I appreciate the forethought! Send me a Venmo request for what I end up owing you," you gesture to the frosty bottles that get put in front of you.
Joel tuts and waves his hand between you two in a noncommittal gesture. He leans in close to your ear instead of shouting this time, "consider it payment for your help today. When that couple told me they wanted their house to be 'midcentury Palm Springs chic' I knew you'd know what they meant. The wife kept sending me links to her Pinterest board, whatever the fuck that is. I was too scared to click them because..."
"Because you're fucking old," you finish, barking out a laugh at the frown that Joel gives you.
After one beer turned into three, Joel starts to open up. Despite his gruff exterior, you know he cares and is interested in your life, even if it takes some alcohol to get him asking about it.
"Have you started dating yet?" The question catches you off guard, your eyes growing wide. "What? You've been in town for five years now, it's high time you start putting yourself out there. A pretty girl like you should have no trouble finding a man."
There it is again. Is Joel just being nice calling you pretty? Or is he fishing for something more?
"Have you started dating?" you counter, raising an eyebrow, nodding when Joel shakes his head. "I'm too busy, Joel. I'm…"
"'Focusing on my career,'" Joel finishes for you, having heard it all before.
You roll your eyes. "Why are we talking about this?"
Joel smirks and cocks his head to your beer, the label in the process of being peeled completely off. "You've peeled the label off every drink you've had tonight."
"Oh…kay?"
Joel shrugs, "if Tommy were here he'd say you're pulling the labels off because you're sexually frustrated." He makes a face as if to say 'but what do I know?'
You raised an eyebrow at Joel. "You of all people should know not to take what Tommy says as fact. And you're one to talk; you live across the street, I'd notice if women were coming over. And they're not. You're going through a dry spell, Miller, same as me." You empty your bottle, stuffing the label down the neck and waving the bartender over for you and Joel to order one more round.  Joel tries to think of a witty comeback, but he knows you're right. 
You watch the bartender open your tab on the till behind the bar and chuckle when you notice what she's titled it: at the top of the screen, in bold letters, "COUPLE BAR."
You tap Joel's bicep, pointing to the screen, "look at that, Miller," you shout over the music, "she thinks you and I are a couple."
Joel looks at the screen himself, eyes suddenly going wide. You raise an eyebrow at him, confused as to why he isn't just chuckling at the bartender's misunderstanding, but your expression turns to one of anger once Joel regains use of his brain and the only thing he can think to say is, "... ew?"
You hope you just misheard him over the loud music, but as Joel started to sputter out an apology, looking horrified at what he had said, you realize - a stranger thought you two were dating, and Joel thinks that's gross. You weren't interested in hearing him trip over his words while he tried to backtrack, and you desperately needed a distraction so you didn't start to cry.  You wave your hand in front of Joel's face, telling him to save it as you grab your beer and push past him to the dance floor.
This is definitely not your scene, the middle of a smoke-filled bar on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, but you make the most of it, taking a swig from your bottle as you push through the crowd. Once you've made your way to the center of the crowd, you assume the position - eyes closed, bottle raised above your head, swinging your hips to whatever top 40 hit the dj decides to bleed into the last one he played.  You don't have to wait long before you feel a body push up behind you and you welcome the distraction. You don't open your eyes or lower your hand except to drink from your near empty bottle, but you do back your ass up against the stranger behind you. It's definitely not Joel. This person behind you is way too lanky; when his arms encircle your waist they lack definition, his thighs aren't nearly as beefy as Joel's, and… you get frustrated with yourself.  Joel just insinuated dating you would be gross and all you can do is think about how hot he is? 
You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts and enjoy the moment. The guy behind you is getting handsy, and normally that would bother you, but Joel was right about that dry spell. One song bleeds into another as you gyrate against this stranger who now has his hand splayed across your stomach under your shirt.
You're ripped unceremoniously from your mindless grinding by a large hand on your shoulder. You wink one eye open though you knew it was Joel. You're not interested in hearing him out, especially not with this stranger's hand gliding slowly up your torso, boldly inching closer to your chest.
"Darlin'" you hear Joel shout over the music, "'m sorry. I didn't mean…"
You put your palm in front of Joel's face before moving your hand on top of the stranger's, whose fingers are teasing the hem of your bra. Joel can be sorry, but he's also going to see how decidedly not-ew the thought of being with you is.
"Whatever, Joel. You can think being my boyfriend is gross. This is fine!" You open your eyes and the look on Joel's face is one you've never seen before. At this point he isn't looking at you, he's staring daggers at the man behind you. Whoever he is seems blissfully unaware.
"Honey, I'm out of touch. I'm fucking old, you said it yourself! I don't know how to - hey, buddy, do you fucking mind?" The hand under your shirt loses its grip on you as Joel shoves the shoulder of the guy behind you. Suddenly his body unglues itself from your back.
"My bad, man. Didn't know she had a boyfriend," he shouts over the music as he disappears back into the crowd. You groan and roll your eyes.
"So sorry, Joel! Turns out when you look and act like my boyfriend, people think you really are! How embarrassing for you," you ramble into Joel's ear. You turn to walk off the dance floor, embarrassed, but before you're out of his reach Joel grabs your forearm, pulling gently until you're flush with his body. He towers over you, his eyes bore into yours.
"Please listen," he bends to speak quietly into your ear, "I'm sorry, and I mean it. We're friends, and I value that. I thought I was bantering, bein' funny. I know you don't want to be a couple at this bar. I know you want to be friends, nothing more, with me. But…" he trails off, pulling away to look at your face.
The atmosphere changes in a way that you swear is straight out of a movie. The lights pulsing and flashing are hitting Joel's face in a way that makes him even more handsome, which you'd thought previously impossible. While your beer bottle is empty, clutched into your hand that hangs limply at your side, Joel's drink is nearly full, still frosty, and dripping condensation through your shirt, soaking your lower back. Joel's eyebrows are raised, waiting for you to do or say anything. 
And then the dj changes the song. You are… intimately familiar with what begins to play and you shake your head, chuckling. What divine intervention drove the dj to start playing a song about ruining a friendship at this very moment? You have no idea, but you make a mental note to thank the universe as you smile at Joel. You push away from him for just a second, long enough to rip the label off your empty beer bottle. Joel looks confused watching you ball up the damp paper. 
You chuckle as you toss the label at Joel, it pinging off his temple before you spin your body so your back is plastered against Joel's front. 
You'll show him sexually frustrated.
Joel seems to take a second to read the situation because his body doesn't move. In fact, it goes rigid. Your hips sway against him anyway. Joel only breaks out of his spell when your arm snakes around his neck and you bury your fingers in his hair. Tugging gently on his curls seems to awaken something in him and his hands are on you in seconds. The hand clutching his beer comes to rest on your hip as the other picks up where your previous dance partner left off, creeping under your shirt and splaying across your stomach. 
"What are we doin' here, baby?" Joel rasps into your ear, his voice deeper and more strained than you're used to. "I guess I deserve you teasin' me, but two can play this game." Joel's nose prods at a spot behind your ear as he peels one cup of your bra away from your body, replacing it with his hand. Your eyes fly open to ensure no one notices, but everyone on the dance floor is busy paying attention to their own partners. Joel rolls your nipple between two fingers before giving it a flick; you try and suppress a moan.
Not to be outdone, you reach for the beer bottle in Joel's hand. You make sure Joel's eyes are locked on you as you lick a stripe up the neck of the bottle, taking a generous sip before handing it back. Joel's eyes widen and he smirks, bringing his mouth back to your ear.
"Think it goes without sayin' now, but I really don't hate the idea of people thinking you're mine," Joel accentuates his last word with a gentle nip at your earlobe that makes your head loll back onto his shoulder. 
"Are you listening to the song, Joel?" You reach up to place your hand on Joel's cheek, turning his face gently so your eyes meet.  He looks confused, but you can tell he's training his ear onto the chorus of what's playing.
I wanna ruin our friendship
We should be lovers instead
I don't know how to say this
'Cause you're really my dearest friend
Joel lowers his eyes back down to meet yours and smirks. "You an' me both, darlin'." His hand around your waist pulls you impossibly closer and you feel him grow hard against your ass. 
"Know where I last heard this song?" The final notes start to dissipate, melding seamlessly with the next song. Joel shakes his head and asks where. You smirk, nuzzling into Joel's neck before you lick a stripe up to his ear. "It's on my sex playlist."
Joel stills. You grin, giggling as he pushes you away gently. "I've gotta close out the tab," he says once he remembers how to form thoughts into words. "Meet me at the truck. And think about what song you're gonna put on once I get you home."
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worriedvision · 1 month ago
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Ajaw ruins his relationship with you - Kinich
Gender neutral reader, angst. No happy ending here, borderline crack BC Ajaw is a cracky character let's be honest. Ajaws a little shit here
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Kinich had, somehow, caught your eye enough for you to successfully land a date with him. One date becomes two, and the third one ends in you inviting him over for a drink. He accepts, and before you know it your home becomes a place for him to call home as well. While Kinich wasn't very emotive, he seemed to smile just a bit around you.
However, the couple affections you would expect from him in a relationship weren't coming. Nothing like kissing or hugging, and for a while you think it's because Kinich was not a touchy person. You also knew he was very busy with his work, which was why the first few times he left and told you not to wait for him you didn't think much. At the time, in fact, you were more attracted to him because he was honest with you.
"Don't wait up." He blankly states, every morning he leaves. If you're lucky, he comes back at night time only to sleep - he doesn't make himself any food or drink from your home.
You got suspicious of him when you were hanging out with Mualani, and she brought up the fact someone called Ajaw wouldn't stop nagging at Kinich. When you ask who Ajaw was, rather if this was his boss, Mualani laughs.
"Ajaw probably thinks so, but they bickering too often to do any work together." Mualani tuts. "Do you never hear Ajaw? That voice is so... Annoying to hear!"
"No...I've never met this Ajaw." You hum out, Mualani gasping.
"Tell me your tricks!"
--
Once you get home from your interaction with your friend, you've had enough time to think. After some long thinking, you come to a decision. You move the stuff that's Kinich's, leaving them by the front door, and add temporary locks in addition to the one your key locks until you can change the lock.
To your surprise, Kinich sounds surprised when he notices his bags out. You refuse to open the door, having more than enough time to waste as you had a day off, and Kinich defeatedly picks up his few belongings before leaving.
--
"Hah! You should see your face!" Ajaw jeers, Mualani and Kinich groaning out at Ajaws harsh words. "Good thing _ wisened up and realised they can do a lot better than some mortal being that can't even get himself a group of companions!"
"Because you always ruin things." Mualani sighs.
"Hey, I can't take credit for this one! I never even once spoke around _!" Ajaw shrugs, putting some sunglasses on.
"I was hoping to finally get to spend some time with them. I've finally got enough cover for a few days." Kinich states, seeming to realise what Ajaw did. "...Mualani, you know how annoying Ajaw is. Do you know if -"
"Oddly enough no! Honestly, I'm jealous. Ajaw doesn't know when to shut up."
"...It seems they do." Kinich massages his temples, Mualani making eye contact with him.
"...Do you think they were suspicious you were seeing Ajaw? Yuck!"
"Hey, I can hear you, ya know?!"
"It makes sense though. They don't know Ajaw isn't even human, and also isn't mortal."
"Hahaha! Oh boy, even I didn't think keeping my mouth shut around your potential love interests would give this benefit!" Ajaw cackles, seeing Kinich's hand flying towards him. "Hey, what are - AHH!"
--
You keep getting asked if Kinich is single, each time you saying he wasn't seeing you anymore before they seem excited to pursue a taken man. It's quite concerning, really, you think theres little dignity in being the other person in the relationship.
Kinich tried to talk to you, but each time you saw him you'd make an excuse for being too busy before hearing some weird child cackling and screaming in retaliation to someone reacting to them. As much as his hurt expression spoke to you, you still knew in your mind that Kinich was in a relationship.
Even if he wasn't, you would know in your mind that you were the second choice.
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spencerreiddddd · 5 months ago
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No second chances • 2
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Content: Angst, NO HAPPY ENDING.
Gist: Part 2 of “No second Chances”
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You held your head in your hands, it had been 3 hours here at the BAU base and you were genuinely loosing your mind.
Your past had been something you had successfully buried, you moved on. Yes,of course it took time… 2 years to be exact to even be able to trust a man into your life again. To show vulnerability emotionally and physically in your relationship, but James waited he was patient, he took care of you, he never made you feel unworthy, if your being honest that’s what made you fall for him.
It took you 2 years to build your trust with James, he proposed and you accepted. He offered you stability, he offered you everything Spencer didn’t.
A loud knock comes from the door snapping you out of your thoughts. It was Spencer….
“Can I come in?” He said quietly like a mouse being caught when the lights turn on. “Yeah, sure.” You say moving over on the couch in the break room. Spencer walks over and sits down, leaving a gap between you and him.
“Owen is your spitting image.” Spencer says breathily. “He really is, everyone always tells me, However he has his dad’s brains.” You laugh quietly smiling at the image of Owen in your head.
“Are you happy?” Spencer blurts out, looking at your face searching for something to tell him you weren’t.
You look at him, annoyance flashing over your face making Spencer cringe. “I am, I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.” I say directly looking at him in the eyes.
“How long did you wait?” He asks cupping his hands together and looking down at his feet. You grew angry, Spencer had no right to interrogate you on how you moved on from him.
You got up and moved to face him. “Stop it Reid. You have no right to ask me how long it took ME to move on. You have no right whatsoever when YOU were the one that took everything we had and threw it away for another woman.” You say anger brewing in you eyes, you might even say a bit of disgust for this whole situation your in right now.
“But I’m here, I’m standing here in-front of you now. I regret what I did every single day believe me Y/N.” He says now standing up and towering over you grasping for your hands. “Let me fix this, let me fix us.” He continues desperately looking into your eyes. However those big puppy dog eyes did nothing to you now as they once did before.
“You’re here now?!” You scoff almost laughing. “You’re here now that I’m married to a man who treats me the way I should be treated and more?! You’re here now that I have a child who needs me?! Who needs their dad?! You’re here now?!” You stare at him in disbelief.
He looks at you pleadingly. “I love James, I do. It would be unfair to him for me to ruin a healthy marriage, and destroy my son’s life, it not worth it because you are not worth it.” You say almost spitting at him.
Spencer flinches at your words, he was looking at you but he didn’t recognize you….You were no longer that lovestruck girl who bought him mismatch socks for his birthday, you were no longer that girl who read the books he talked about so he could be able to discuss them with you. You weren’t showering him with love after a long case.
Reality set in, he didn’t know you anymore and worst of all you didn’t want him anymore. He searched in your eyes and he couldn’t find any love you held for him. All he saw was anger, his consequences had caught up to him.
“Is everything alright in here?” James said making you and Spencer flinch. “Yeah, just catching up with Spencer.” You say putting a smile on your face as you turn to look at James.
James had a confused and concerned expression on his face, he could clearly tell by your body language that you were uncomfortable. That told him enough and he walked into the room and handed you a coffee while placing his hand on your waist and walking you out the room.
Unbeknownst to you James stared at Spencer the whole way out of the room with a look that let Spencer know James had caught on, and that he wasn’t welcomed.
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Thank you so so sooooo much for the love and support on the first part, I genuinely had no idea this would blow up the way it did and I am entirely grateful. Hopefully the second part wasn’t a let down but I think Y/N was in the right for not falling into Spencer’s pleads and not ruining what she has now.
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frenziedfireworks · 1 year ago
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Prefects Bathroom
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Draco Malfoy x Reader
Summary : You couldn't help but want a bath in the prefects tub.. What happens when your rival finds you?
A/N : DAY ONE OF KINKTOBER !! I hope you enjoy :^)
CW : SMUT, 18+, Mean!Draco, Fem!Reader, dubcon, choking, degrading, orgasm denial
masterlist
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You don’t know where the urge to bathe in the prefects tub came from but it was one you could not shake off. Day after day passed that you would think about it and finally the time came. You had enough of the thought bothering you. 
Your legs moved quickly as you avoided the prefects and made your way towards the bathroom. You had a few close run-ins but successfully made it. The room was exactly how you had imagined, and the water was already looking enticing. You turned on the soaps and began to strip, desperate to finally get respite. The bath was as good as your mind had convinced itself it would be. The water washed away at the aches and tensions in your muscles, your head leaning against the wall in bliss.
It wasn’t seconds later that the door opened and your heart stopped. You had forgotten to close the door.
You had forgotten to close the door?!
You pulled bubbles around you and tried to cover yourself as you met eyes with your intruder. Your heart stopped and no warmth within the bath could fill the cold void that hit you.
“What do we have here? Y/N out of bed and breaking the rules?” Malfoy sneered as he locked the door and moved just a bit closer. You could feel your blood boil and knew either way you were fucked. You had hated him since first year, finding his ego and arrogance to be over the top and disrespectful.
“Malfoy, do you have any manners? I’m nude. Give me some decency to at least get dressed please.” You growled out as his footsteps stopped and he smirked.
“Oh but dear, why should I do that? It’s not like you’re a human anyways. Little bug is begging for decency. Ha!” His eyes glared into yours awaiting what nasty retort you could make.
You were left in quite the conundrum. Your clothes were more than a few steps away and the bubbles weren’t going to last forever. On top of that, Malfoy was no gentleman and would definitely get a kick out of seeing you like this. So there was only one option left - get up and turn it on him.
You took a deep breath and slowly swam to the stairs, stepping out of the tub. You stared at Malfoy as his eyes widened and he took in your form. You came closer to him, your hand reaching out to barely brush his.
“Enjoying the show Malfoy? I’m sure you’ve never seen a woman before anyways.” You whispered and a groan left his lips. You laughed at his pathetic display and turned around to go grab your clothes. It was obvious that you had won the little battle, even if it was at the loss of your dignity.
At least you thought, until you felt his grip on your wrists and he turned you around.
“Of course I’ve seen women before. I’ve added up quite the list. I will enjoy adding your name to it.” Draco yanked you towards him and your eyes widened. Was he being serious? He seriously thinks you would let him have you?
“That’s priceless Malfoy. I would rather die than sleep with the likes of you.”
“Then you can die taking my cock.” Draco’s hand wandered up to your throat and tightened, his face dangerously close to yours. You felt dirty at the fact that you convulsed around nothing, his words lighting a flame throughout your body,
“This isn’t right.” You smacked at his chest and his grin only grew.
“Tell me to stop if you don’t fucking want it then.” Draco’s voice still held malice but it seemed more towards himself. You couldn’t help but stay silent as his hands continued down your chest. His finger danced around your nipple, his cold eyes watching exactly what made you writhe. He leaned in, breath mingling across your ear.
“I’m going to ruin you.”
It was as if something erupted in the both of you. Draco’s mouth was on yours in seconds, his hands roaming across your nude form. Your lips shaped into his as your hands threw his cloak on the ground, desperate to have him.
“Ah, now pretty girl wants me? Talked a big talk beforehand.” Draco cackled and you grimaced. He really knew how to push your buttons. Lucky for you, two could play at that game.
“You think I’m pretty?” 
The silence was deafening as Draco rolled his eyes and leaned away to lick a stripe down your neck.
“I’ll fuck the attitude right out of you.”
“Any day now then.” You tapped at his neck, granting you a harsh tug at your hair.
“Fucking brat.”
His fingers crawled down, resting right above where you needed him most. You knew better than to expect kindness from the man. You pulled at his hand and placed it on your cunt, much to his surprise.
“Naughty little slag.” Draco digit moved through your folds, taking its sweet time to gather your slick. You squirmed in pleasure, waiting as he teased your hole.
“You want me to finger fuck you darling?” Draco cooed against your ear and you nodded quickly. You were much too desperate to play this little game anymore, your body taking control of your mind.
“Hmm.. You’re lucky I’m feeling generous. Only for a little though.” Draco pushed his fingers into you, stretching you out. You gripped at his shoulders, small moans leaving your mouth as he began to pump in and out.
“D-Draco..” You whispered and he raised an eyebrow in mock confusion.
“Is something wrong dear?” His tone matched his force, the next pump deeper than the last. You couldn’t help but gasp and feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. 
“Aw, are you about to cum?” Draco’s thumb moved down to your nub, stroking it with fervor. Your arms tightened around him as you drew up and then all at once it was gone. 
You would kill him.
“What the fuck Malfoy?!” You screeched and his wicked laughs filled the room.
“You didn’t think I’d let you cum on my fingers? You’re not that special darling. You can take my cock like the whore you are and that’s it.” Draco grabbed at your waist and didn’t wait to line himself up. 
“You fucker-”
“Oh yes, I am going to fuck you.” Draco retorted, shoveling his cock into your sopping hole. All you could do was grasp at the wall as he pushed you against it, basically smothering you into the stone.
His hand gripped at your throat as the other dug into your fleshy hip. It was sure to leave bruises tomorrow but you couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when his cock pummeled in and out of you at such a pace that it left you breathless.
“I-I fucking hate you. Walking around with this pretty ass and your attitude. Fucking finally get to teach you a lesson.” Draco’s grunts filled the room as his cock slammed further than you thought imaginable. You could only moan in response, your head feeling a bit dizzy from the lack of oxygen and pleasure.
“Fuck. Take it. Your pretty pussy was meant for me to ruin it. You hear me?” Draco continued to mumble nonsense as you clenched around him, rapidly approaching your orgasm. 
“Dra-co..”
“I know darling. I can feel you clenching me.. Fucking cum and make a mess like the slut you are.”
His lewd words broke the gates, sending you to your much awaited orgasm. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you felt him spill all over your ass.
Your breaths were the only thing filling the empty bathroom for the next few minutes until Draco adjusted himself and picked up his cloak.
“Don’t think I like you now because of this. Once a cocksleeve, always a cocksleeve.” He sneered as he handed you your clothes, slowly strutting out of the room. His words may have been cruel but you would celebrate one victory - at least he didn't turn you in.
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multifandomme · 28 days ago
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Respite
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Pairing: Olivia Benson x Female Reader
Summary: Olivia learns what it's like to be denied.
Genre: Smut, (orgasm denial, praise, choking, light humiliation, oral sex, fingering), not suitable for minors.
Word Count: 1k.
This piece is for day 3 of kinktober under the 'denial' prompt.
More works from me here. || Masterlist here. || Kinktober 2024 Masterlist here.
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The bullpen was eerie come nightfall, silent, the murk occluded only by the dim orange of desk lamps. Olivia’s frame lurked behind the frosted glass of her office like a shadow, creeping slowly until she emerged in the doorway with a lust-filled stare. She should have been home by now, though in typical Olivia fashion, her mind had been rattled by a particularly harrowing case. 
You knew why she had requested your presence, working under the pretence that it was comfort that she was seeking, though it never seemed to end that way. And, predictably, when the thunderous slam of the door echoed behind you, her lips sprung to meet yours in a heated exchange. 
“Fuck, I’ve missed this,” she mumbled, her words vibrating against your lips, too impassioned to break contact for even a second.
You hummed in accordance, your hands peeling the clothes from her body, feet stumbling clumsily until Olivia’s back found the edge of her desk. 
“You just can’t get enough of me, can you?” You husked, seductively, your teeth quick to pluck at her bottom lip, tearing a whine from her.
A month ago, Olivia had been adamant that this clandestine arrangement was to exist as nothing more than a one-night stand, a meaningless fling to be passed off as a moment of weakness. The irony existed in the way that she had broken her own rule, fated to be called to her office most nights of the week, her muffled groans bleeding out into the empty bullpen. 
“You were gone for two days,” she breathed, her hand wrangling with yours until she had successfully dragged your palm against her silk-clad pussy, wetness tainting your fingertips. “Feel it,” she urged, “that’s what you do to me.”
The reality of her arousal forced your stomach into flexion, a tinge of delight thrumming deep inside of you with persistence. But, it was Olivia that captured your undivided attention, her eyes silently pleading with you as she widened her thighs, bracing for her inevitable ruin. 
“You’re fucking dripping,” you smirked, two digits etching tight circles across the growing patch of damp, a gasp emitting from her in response. “Pathetic.”
“No,” Olivia whimpered, weakly, her sense of conviction rendered futile the moment her hips jogged forward in search of further contact, her thighs quivering uncontrollably. 
“Such a pity, isn’t it?” You cooed, your fingers ghosting her clit so softly that Olivia’s features twisted into an expression of pain, agony almost. “You just can’t seem to get off without me,” you riled, faux sweetness lilting your tone, “you need my hands on you, my fingers in that pretty pussy of yours, don’t you?”
The question hung in the silence, unanswered, groans of frustration falling from her lips each time she drove forward just to feel you retreat in avoidance.
“Please,” she sobbed out, her fists knocking mildly against your chest in a feeble protest. “Please, touch me, do anything.”
Her pleas only filled you with zeal, ultimately deciding to submit to her demand for the moment, your ulterior plan fated to remain hidden for the time being. 
“Move and you lose,” you stated, sternly, Olivia’s eyes twinkling with excitement at the prospect of a challenge, a victorious smile upturning her mouth. 
Slender digits breached the hem of her panties, softened motions calling a fresh wave of arousal into existence. Olivia clung to you with unyielding force, the grave reality of having her pleasure stripped from her keeping her fixed in position. She wanted to flail, to buck, to manipulate your fingers into the depths of her, but she knew better than to break the rules. 
“You’re gonna make me-”
“Not yet,” you growled, insistently, your motion ebbing away as a means of reminding her what was at stake. “You’re going to wait until I tell you,” you affirmed, your free hand lifting to cinch at her throat, a guttural moan blurting from her. “You’re going to be a good girl and follow the rules, hm?”
Olivia nodded, albeit weakly, the pursing of her lips only reiterating the hastening approach of her downfall. Abruptly, you stuffed your fingers into her soaking pussy, observing intently as she spluttered against the simultaneous tightening around her neck. And, you pounded relentlessly, your eyes never straying from her, searching for any sign that she was about to crumble and subsequently defy you. 
“I’m gonna cum,” she rasped, frantically, her eyes widening all of a sudden. “Please, let me cum, please.”
In an instant, you ripped yourself away from her, basking in her dissatisfaction as she scowled, her chest heaving, gaze afire. A wry chuckle emanated as you studied the visceral torment that plagued her, resettling yourself before her until your knees met the wood beneath. 
“I’m sorry, baby,” you cooed, her panties yanked down to encircle her ankles as you drew in close, your tongue sneaking out to savour the taste of her. “You’re just too fun to play with.”
Still reeling from the callous denial you had orchestrated, Olivia opted to stay quiet, inwardly curious as to what else you had planned at her expense. The thoughts were soon licked away by the feeling of your tongue lapping ardently against her clit, her body jolting wildly in response to the newfound stimulation. 
The dulling remnants of incomplete euphoria soon reawakened, Olivia’s fingernails clawing at your scalp as she willed you on from above. Her hips established a methodic pace, manipulating your mouth with precision, her own hanging open as she peered downwards through half-lidded eyes. Undeniably, it was a sight at which to marvel, positively entranced by the sounds that flung free of her. And yet, nothing compared to the beauty of her desperation, the feral despair that took her under when she was forsaken to be unfulfilled, made to wait. 
“Please, fuck,” she whispered, urging you further against her pussy as her body grew rigid, wound tight, her collapse imminent as her knees began to buckle beneath her weight. “Can I?” She cried out, entirely afflicted by the temptation that ailed her, that ran rabid inside of her with nowhere to go.
You halted, a devilish smirk fused to your lips as you regarded her towering form from below, her body trembling visibly, violently, hands bunched into fists of rage.
“No,” you concluded, swiping her arousal from your chin, the taste of her bound to prevail. “But good girls wait, don’t they?”
––--– ♡ –––--
––--– ♡ –––--
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yueliie · 2 months ago
Note
Well, Hello! I recently started to follow you, but I wanted to ask you a request, like what you did with 'Your tears'.
Like could you do a Wind Breakers boys reacting to seeing again childhoodfriend! Reader? (and with a reader that had a similar case of Mitsuri, like having to much strength and being judged by that) (and specially with Sakura, the others you can decide them)
Of course if you want, have time and if you don't mind!
🎐.お茶 — a girl gotta be strong, ya know? ft s.haruka, k.mitsuki, s.hayato & n.akihiko
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୨ৎ — ↻ SYNOPSIS : wind breaker boys' reunited with childhood friend!fem!reader who is pretty strong!? ୨ৎ — ♯ GENRE : fluff, fem!reader ୨ৎ — ↠ NOTE : I see sakura, i'm gunnin' for that—ahem, thank you remontea for being my first customer<3 I'm so happy to know that you are interested in my format haha! It's an odd mix of headcanons + scenario/imagines? so headscena? wait that sounds weird..I think I might have gone overboard with this one cuz childhood friends trope AND big eater like my girl mitsuri?? I'm sold and now you're my favorite customer, congrats 👏 4 characters are my limit cuz it would ruin the aesthetic and limitations of how many pics I can use in one post huhu but if I get many requests for part 2 of this, feel free to let me know! also my first fic with kiryu and nirei, hope they aren't too ooc! I'm not confident in suo's part the most tbh with you all TT ୨ৎ — ♪ REMINDER : reblogs & likes are appreciated, its help to motivate me, thanks for your support~ ୨ৎ — ► ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : a girl gotta be strong, ya know? ft s.haruka, k.mitsuki, s.hayato & n.akihiko
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MASTERLIST | REQUEST BOX | RULES | TAGLIST
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🎐.お茶 — sakura haruka
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۫ ꣑ৎ It was early in the morning, sakura was on his way to school when he bumped into a situation...a girl taking down a group of delinquents all on her own.
۫ ꣑ৎ He was stunned, he thought his eyes were tricking him, there is no way a girl could beat guys twice her size...
۫ ꣑ৎ But then, the young woman wearing an apron was crying while shaking hands with her savior and that was when, he realized it was you...?
"Y-You...why are you doing here?" Sakura flinched when your head snapped towards him, eyes widened and he heard a little gasp from you before he started choking on air when you suddenly pounced on him without warning, and successfully trapping him within your arms.
"Saku-chan!!"
"G-Get off me or you're goin' to succumb—"
"Oh!" You got off with a sloppy smile "... sorry, it's just been so long, I didn't know you went to school here!"
"Yeah...so what about it?" He grumbled, averting his eyes from you.
You looked at him with a blank stare. In response to that, his face heated up, a soft pink decorated across his fair skin, agitated he asked with a stuttering voice "W-What are you lookin' at?"
"Nothing...how should I say it?" You hummed softly, eyebrows frowned, deep in thought but then you snapped your fingers as if you just realized something "It's could just be my imagination... but I feel like you've gotten softer? Normally, you would look at me in the eyes"
You looked down at your shoes, fidgeting with your hands "...do you perhaps not like the way I am now...?"
"...Huh?" His brain malfunctioned for a second there before the shade of light pink turned crimson red in a matter of seconds "W-What!? Who says that, huh?!?!"
He turned around and immediately ran off towards the direction of his school with you following right behind him "Ah, wait up!!"
🎐.お茶 — kiryu mitsuki
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۫ ꣑ৎ Kiryu was on his phone when he stumbled upon you, helping an elderly couple carrying around a bunch of heavy industrial plastic crates filled with fresh vegetables and whatnot.
۫ ꣑ৎ At first, he was impressed by your strength, not many girls your age could do that, then he saw you almost tripping over a pile of rubbles...he approached you intending to help you around the store.
۫ ꣑ৎ But when he did...you looked shocked?? Do you know him? He doesn't remember someone as pretty as you in the past though...
"Uh..." You averted your eyes, the soft shade of pink revealed itself on your cheeks, twisting a strand of hair as you mustered up the words to question him "Are you... perhaps Kiryu Mitsuki by any chance...?"
"Yes that's me, have we met before...?" Kiryu asked, tilted his head in question with a sweet voice that is enough to make anyone melt upon hearing that voice of his.
"U-Uh! I'm (name)..." Your voice cracked, biting your lips nervously, brushing some strands of hair behind your ear "...(surname) (name), we used to go to school together...uhh—"
"You're that (name)??" He looked at you with widened eyes, surprised but soon after, his expression melted, his half-lidded eyes looked at you with so much depth of emotions; adoration, bright and beautiful.
If looks could kill, you would be dead by now because you felt that brief moment of your heart just froze up and dropped yet that alluring stare of his is sucking you in, taking your breath away just like how you would expected from a beautiful scenery and right now, he is THAT gorgeous view...why is this guy so attractive?
"(Name)?"
You snapped out of your thoughts when you saw him waving his hand in front of your face, you make eyes contact with his soft green ones.
Flustered being caught staring at him, you tried changing the subject "Y-Yes?"
He pointed towards the direction of a cafe, he asked in that same honeyed tone "If you're finished with work...we could talk over there?"
"Sure...?" You were still in a daze when he turned towards with a smile, ugh...that smile is dazzling. You couldn't find the words to say anything back when he took a hold of your hand and muttered out a quiet let's go then.
You looked down at your hand intertwined with his, its remind you of the old days wherever you go, he is always holding your hand...its never fail to make you feel safe even if you know that you can defend yourself and at the thought of that precious memory, you smiled.
🎐.お茶 — suo hayato
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۫ ꣑ৎ It was early in the morning on a weekend when Suo entered the saboten bakery, a store that was famous for their pastries and he was only simply there to buy a cake as usual.
۫ ꣑ৎ Being notified of his arrival, a voice called out from the kitchen "Good morning, Fresh pastries will be ready in just a moment!"
۫ ꣑ৎ Your head peeked out behind the kitchen wall, carrying a tray filled with freshly baked goods but then, you make an eye contact...
"...Eh?" You blinked in disbelief with your mouth wide open, dumbfounded and Suo was all smiling, finding the situation pretty amusing at how much your expression resembling that of a goldfish.
"Suo?!" You gasped, almost dropping the tray to the floor as you turned around, flustered by the fact that your childhood friend saw the messy state you were in, "I-I'm sorry for the mess, I'll—"
"No, no it's fine...really" His chuckle was light, and yet it was deep, laced with a hum of amusement at the matter. His smile never once fade as he stared at you, barely concealed fondness tangible in the warmth that softened his features.
You avoided looking him in the eye, your face flushed red with skin lightly dusted with flour and cream, soft (colour) hair slightly tousled in all directions. You were a hot mess.
"So... how may I help you?"
"Oh, I'll get that and..."
You nodded lightly, using the sliding door to the cake display counter and pulling the frozen goods out before packing them in a pretty small box.
Then you make your way back to the cashier, pressing some buttons and with a smile, you asked "Would that be all?"
"Wait, just a second..." He paused, looking at you with a smile but you don't feel good about that smile of him at that moment though...
Then it happened, his thumb touched the corner of your mouth as that thought crossed your mind, and you flinched upon feeling that lingering warmth stay there for a brief moment.
You looked up to see some whipped cream on his thumb "Shh, stain" He whispered with half lidded eyes, looking so smug with that self-satisfied smirk of his before he licked the cream off "Mhm, it's sweet..."
"Wha...." You stared at him, horrified and in response to that, he laughed and this time; he sounds bright and joyous.
"Well, I'll see you later then" He was still smiling while waving goodbye, he was already on his way out of the store and when the sliding doors slammed shut, dead silence follow suit...
And what if it was on cue, you started freaking out once your brain finally registered what just happened a moment ago.
🎐.お茶 — nirei akihiko
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۫ ꣑ৎ Nirei was walking around the town when he heard loud voices in the distance, out of curiosity, he followed the sound to a back alleyway.
۫ ꣑ৎ There, it was a small group of men backed two young girls into a corner, one girl was shivering with tears in her eyes and the other girl was glaring daggers.
۫ ꣑ৎ He could barely recognize you but he immediately knew it was you from the way you talk, you haven't changed from the last time he saw you...
"My friend isn't interested" You bluntly stated that fact, your friend clutched tightly onto your shirt as you stared at the group of three men with a blank expression "Didn't you learn from school that no mean no?"
"Haaah? I was talking to the other chick but..." His eyes looked down and up, taking in the view before him "...well, you aren't half bad yourself"
"Ew, gross" You looked at him with a disgusted face, crossing your arms above your chest "It's no wonder why you don't have a girlfriend... can't get any ladies so you just decided on picking a girl right off the street"
" What did you say, bi—" He was cut off when he was thrown towards the other side of the alleyway. In the blink of an eye, the other two was given the same treatment, being turned upside down and laying across the dirty flooring, unable to move their bodies.
"Are they dead?" You poked at them with a random stick that you found laying on the ground, upon seeing the movements of their chests rising and down, you let out a sigh "The heck? They're fine?"
"A-Amazing!!"
"Huh??"
Your eyes snapped towards the newcomer and upon seeing that familiar fluffy hair and the way he pull out a notebook from his pocket "...Aki? Is that you?"
"Y-Yes!?" He squeaked, probably didn't expecting you to recognize him right off the bat.
"What are you doing here...and what's up with that flashy get up??" You questioned him with concerned eyes.
Well... Guess he has some explaining to do.
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© yueliie 2024. do not steal, copy, repost, edit, translate or use my works.
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adventuringblind · 9 months ago
Text
Celebratory Kissing?
Logan Sargeant X Reader X Oscar Piastri
Genre: Fluffy smut
Summary: Oscar gets his first win and celebratory activities ensue.
Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, switch Logan if you squint, subspace for reader and Logan (eventually), SOFT dom Oscar (a simp is what he is), oral (both receiving), fingers, unprotected sex (don't try this at home kids), Praise, oral fixation, marking/biting
Notes: Another request! haven't done a smut in a while. I might be a wee bit rusty...
Side note: I finished this mere hours after I had to put my dog down 😬
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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A sprint win is still a win. An argument she is determined to put to an end should Oscar tell her otherwise. This is an achievement and should be recognized as such.
Logan appears in front of her. His body absolutely gleaming with sweat and hair tussled from his helmet. "You look wrecked."
"The good kind I hope." She hands him the water she's holding, and he holds eye contact while trying to drink it. Only to fail miserably and dump it everywhere.
"It's about fifty-fifty. Half like Oscar just ruined you and the other half like you might be sick."
"Jokes on you, I probably am!"
She stares at the McLaren garage where Oscar has been swept off to. "Do you think he'll accept it as a win?"
"Maybe, I'm not sure yet." Logan crosses his arms and follows her gaze. "We could always convince him it's a win." He wiggles his eyebrows. The last part coming out quieter.
"But you two have to race tomorrow!"
"And I'm not suggesting anything crazy, I would like to be able to walk still. That doesn't mean we can't make it good."
She hums thoughtfully at the proposal. "He won't go for it."
"Trust me, he will." Logan takes his hand in hers and swings their arms back and forth. "We've been doing this for almost two years now. I think we can bring it out of him."
"Lo, I swear to god, if you get us in trouble, I will never let you hear the end of it."
~~~~~
She really shouldn't have been so shocked when Logan dragged her back to the hotel promising Oscar a 'surprise' for his victory. The Aussie had given them a questioning look, but just shrugged them off. A quick word about staying hydrated was thrown in there.
Now she's sitting on the edge of the bed, freshly showered and patiently waiting for Logan to tell her what his plan it. He's been digging through Oscar's luggage for the last five minutes mumbling about disorganization.
Finally, he pulls out the tightly wound coil of rope and makes a triumphant 'ah-ha' sound.
"You were looking for rope?"
"Yup!"
"And what are you going to do with said rope? Oscar is the only one with enough patience to manage any kind of Shabari-" Logan shuts her up by starting to tie the rope around her wrist.
"This okay?"
"It would be more okay if you told me what we were doing." She huffs in annoyance.
Logan rolls his eyes dramatically. "Figured I'd put you down first. Get you to that headspace that drives him feral."
She has to suppress the whine that threatens to leave her throat. "What about you?"
"One of us has to be coherent until he gets here. He can do what he wants after that. We just need him to see you first." Logan finishes the rope on her wrists, successfully securing them behind her back. "Not saying I'm not enticing, mind you. I just know how to put you down faster than the other way around."
Which - okay, Logan isn't wrong there. Oscar seems to hit the sweet spot with him where she can't. Not for a lack of trying, she just does not have the tone of voice that send her American partner over the edge. "Well played, Sargeant."
"I thought it was clever." She can't see him, still settled behind her. It doesn't matter. She knows he's smirking; can feel it in the open-mouthed kisses he's placing on her spine. It's ridiculous how much simple touch affects her.
"You slip so easily."
"Shut up."
It doesn't help that she's completely bare. Logan still has his sweats on, which only makes her feel vulnerable.
His hands trace the outline of her curves. They drag against the more sensitive areas with a nimble sort of ease. She lets out a happy sigh in response.
His teeth latch onto her shoulder. He bites and sucks a mark that will definitely be visible tomorrow. Logan's always had an oral fixation. Constantly chewing on the ends of his hoodie strings, chewing on pens and pencils, the sheer number of lollys in the house is ungodly. Oscar has used this to his advantage too many times to count. Zoom meeting at the number one offender.
Logan manages to bite all the way down her arm. He slips himself lower to get a better angle on her hips. Fingers bruise her thighs with an impossibly iron grip that he really doesn't need to have.
He attaches to her neck, spinning her around so face him. Logan slides his wet tongue from her throat to her lips. He shoves his tongue down her throat without warning. Successfully making it so she can't breathe; suffocated but only him. Only Logan and his stupidly nimble tongue exist in this moment.
He lets her breath again, only to push her backward onto the bed. Saliva drips all across her body as his tongue slides downwards.
Logan's is panting against her by the time he's finally in between her legs. "You're terribly wet, baby." He licks everywhere except where she needs him most. "Do you want my tongue? Are you going to be good for me while we wait for Osc?"
"I promise - please Lo, need you."
All sense of coherency leaves the second Logan's tongue starts lapping up her arousal. His hands grip her thigs to keep them spread apart.
Her hands would be in his hair if they could. instead, they grip the sheets underneath her. Anything to keep somewhat present. It doesn't work. Her mind is already swimming while the blonde moans into her core, teeth grazing her clit and driving her to the brink of insanity.
Her legs shake as his tongue slips in and out of her. She chokes out his name, on getting close to the point of no return.
He pulls away. Not fully, just enough to stop contact. Went tongue retreating through glistening lips.
IN the background, the sound of the door unlocking startles them both. Logan frantically strips the rest of his clothes in record time, helps her to the floor and manages to get them both into some kind of waiting position.
"I hope whatever you to are planning involves sleep at some point-" Oscar flicks the lights on and she can feel his eyes burning holes into them. "Please tell me you haven't been like this for the last hour?"
They shake their heads no as Oscar looks them over. He grabs Logan's chin and swipes his tongue across the American's bottom lip. "You taste like her. Tell me what you did."
"Got her ready for you."
"I can see that. She's staring at us with that look in her eyes." Oscar moves to her next, dropping Logan's chin and softly patting her cheek. She keens into his touch, aching for some kind of contact again. "Is this my surprise? A good night with two beautifully obedient partners?" His voice is soft with a hint of a condescending tone.
"Wanted to make sure you know that it's a win." There it is. He has Logan in the palm of his hand, whining and slurring his words.
Oscar looks like he might melt. "I think I've already won everything I need to. I have you two kneeling in front of me. That being said, you've got me worked up and it would be a shame not to take advantage of your wonderful surprise."
Oscar undoes the rope around her wrists and helps them up off their knees and onto the bed. "Nothing hard tonight. I'd hate for you to be sore tomorrow, Lo." He kisses them both. Hands gripping their chins and alternating who's mouth he's exploring.
It's heaven. The place with these two. The fuzzy, floaty feeling in her mind only registers them and their touches.
"You did good with her, Lo. Bet you're ready to go, yeah?"
It's the first time she's actually seen how hard the American is. Oscar strokes him a few times, slowly, thumb swiping away the pre-cum that had leaked out.
Oscar jams two fingers into her without warning. "Wow, you really did get her ready. Was this all your tongue baby?"
A third finger slips in. She's dripping liquid all the way down to his wrist. The pathetic whining sounds she's making are outrageous and should be embarrassing. She's to blissed out to care.
Oscar manhandles them to where he wants. Her body shudders as she accepts Logan's length, straddling over the top of him. "Come on, love. You want to make him feel good, yes?" She'd want to do anything Oscar tells her to, really, but she can't say as much.
Regardless, she rolls her hips and moans at the feeling. Logan's mouth goes slack, and Oscar takes the opportunity to slam his dick into Logan's mouth.
It doesn't take her horribly long to get close again. The skin on skin and roll of hips. The impatience of Logan as he tries to buck his hips upward in time with her.
"Osc, please." He crashes his lips onto hers and moans into her mouth.
He pulls away just a tiny bit and clasps a hand around her throat. "Go ahead, cum for be."
Logan slams up into her a few more times before he finishes. She lets herself fall into the abyss of white-hot pleasure. Brain only focused on one thing.
She can hear Logan coughing as Oscar slams into his throat.
It all ends too fast for her liking, and she looks at Oscar expectantly. Waiting and wanting for more.
Oscar pulls her off Logan and lays her body down on top of him. The Aussie take his time exploring their shivering bodies. The amount of concealer they are going to need tomorrow will be ungodly.
"This doesn't feel like the celebratory kissing I'd hoped for," whines Logan.
"Tell you two what: If I can get second tomorrow then I'll make sure neither of you can walk for a week." Oscar huffs. "Also, I'd appreciate it if we could refrain from calling it celebratory kissing."
"But it's tradition!"
"I feel like we've came a bit farther then just celebratory kisses..."
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justadeadreaper · 4 months ago
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My friend says I have to write this as an apology for what I posted yesterday as apparently what I wrote was not fluff but angst as it made a few people cry so I have to make up for it with actual fluff. Now that I have said what I think König would do for you when he goes on a long deployment so that you remember how much he loves you when you miss him how about we now hear what I think he does while on the deployments and then a third post detailing what he does when he finally gets back home. 
Yes, König has an issue with being the cockiest man alive but he has another trait(s) that can be considered a thousand times worse, this is how he is extremely possessive and obsessed with what he considers his. It is why he struggles to be apart from you for so long when he is on his missions for months or years at a time even if he keeps actively choosing them for the rush of adrenaline that has to pump through his veins due to how addicted the military made him to the thrill. As mentioned before, the giant will spend any chance and time he gets to write you letters that normally entail how everything is going before going over how greatly he misses you and would prefer to be in your arms in the luxury of your soft bed compared to the cold, lifeless floors of wherever he is. Normally, he ends all his letters asking how you are and what you have been doing, like asking how your hobbies have been going and if you have been using his card to treat yourself while he is gone. 
If he has signal and is in a safe area where he has no worries about calling or checking his phone you can bet that he will be checking every single security camera he has in the house to see what you are doing without telling you as he just loves to see how you are in your natural habitat even if others would call him a peeping Tom for such actions. Sometimes he will even call you on a second phone to talk to you as he watches what you do, sometimes he loves to be a tease and ask what you are doing and make hints towards what you are doing just so he can see the confused look on your face and ask if he is a mind reader.
Due to his kleptomaniac tendencies from how he grew up with virtually nothing to the point he now needs to have everything he was never able to have when he was a child, he will collect trinkets for you to gift you once he gets back home. These trinkets can virtually be anything he was able to get his large, sticky hands on like the jewellery he scavenges from the corpses of all the enemies he has killed so that he can return home to you as he loves seeing you in anything shiny or objects he just likes the look of that he found when scouting the area which itself ranges from a pretty rock he found in a stream to things he found in a ruined house like ornaments that could be used to decorate your home to things such as spoons or weirdly shaped objects that he just found interesting and thought you would find pretty too or souvenirs or clothes he brought in nearby cities, towns, villages or countries to the area his mission was set in as to share the location with you and as a way to make off another area he has been in and successfully come back alive from or it could be something grimmer that just hits the right spot with his morbid thought process he calls normal such as the bones of enemies or dead animals he found that he will eventually DIY to create something useful or pretty to put around the house (the last time he did such a thing he made you multiple candle holders using the arm and hand bones of enemies as he said it looked so pretty to see the wax drip down the bones onto the platform underneath) or he would bring back the weapons or clothing of the enemies he killed if he thought it was pretty or interesting enough to add to the collection he lets you use to protect yourself with while he is gone or cool enough to add to his many uniforms.
Although, his kleptomaniac tendencies do not just stop at inanimate objects. Quite a few of his subordinates and teammates joke that if you find a stray animal you can not kill it but you have to hide it no matter what situation you are in due to König’s horrible habit of collecting animals he finds like Pokémon cards. If König finds a stray animal in the area or one he finds too interesting it is no longer a stray but his pet no matter what it is even if it is as feral as a dog with rabies. This habit was first discovered by his team when he would keep the interesting enough spiders they asked him to dispose of as he would keep them in containers and feed them whatever bug he found around the area but it never stopped there. It was then reaffirmed once they found him sneaking a pair of rats into his bag since he thought they were too cute as they had the audacity to try and bite a hole through his boot. Over the years it became more apparent with every new animal he gathered and brought home to you or how you would suddenly find a new pet such as the toad that now lives by the small fairy pond he built by the rose bushes as he saved it from his team as Tor thought it was a good idea to use it as target practice. If he finds an animal on the mission that he finds cute or interesting enough you can surely bet that he will bring it home to add to the family since he knows you can not refuse his puppy dog eyes that tug on your heartstrings.
If you speak a language he does not and someone on his team can speak it he will be pestering his team member to teach him, but if he does not he will have taken a few small books for him to learn from when he is restless at night and unable to sleep due to his insomnia just so that when he comes home he will be able to surprise you with knowing some of your language.
And like I have mentioned before, he takes mini journals alongside with him where he will be able to sketch you with details of the scenery around him or he will write poems or thoughts about you just to get his mind off of you so they do not clog his thoughts and distract him which creates the risk of him being too distracted and not being alert enough which ends up with him not having the chance to come home to you which neither of you want to happen. The journals are so sappy and sweet but can sometimes be vulgar with its content, he does not dare show it anyone but you, but that only happens once he is finished and every page is full so he can give it you once he is next deployed.
But in the end, all he is waiting for is for the mission to be over so that he can come back to you alive and well so that he can be in your arms once more and spoil you with all the gifts he brought from the mission and when he got back to say sorry for being gone for so long.
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just-jordie-things · 2 years ago
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WAAAAH thing about playfighting w megumi (;_;)
he always tries to suppress his giggles but he just can’t help it!!!!! i love thinking about silly soft boyfie megumi he makes me Sob.
what are ur thoughts?!?! keep up the good work!!
ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ
nonnie I've been reduced to a silly girl with a silly crush. how should i tell my partner i am taken by a fictional man.
___
play fighting with megumi has become your love language. it might seem silly but it's the best way to reduce him to blushing and giggles.
he's sitting in bed reading? sneak attack! you throw yourself into his lap with a delighted squeal. but his distraction was a farce! he knew what you were going to do, and was quick to toss his book to the side to flip you over and pin you down. he teases you for falling for his trap as he tickles you.
but you're feistier than he is, and you know just how to trick him.
kisses. your trap is kisses.
but he always gives in! it's too easy to pepper his face with kisses and fool him into thinking you're done with play fighting. silly boy, you think, as you wrap your arms around him and flip him over again.
this sends you both off the bed with a loud thud, but neither of you are bothered as you go back to trying to pin his arms down while he's trying to throw you onto your back again.
you're so lost in your giggling and squirming around, that you don't hear the scurry of footsteps nearing megumi's door.
"surrender" you playfully growl in megumi's face when you successfully hold both his wrists above his head.
"never" he raises his head to be closer to your face. there's a playful look in his eye, hiding something more mischievous behind it because, after all, this is fun because he quite enjoys having you on top of him.
"then face my wrath!" you're practically cheering, but before you can deliver your rain of terror, megumi's door slides open.
"WHAT HAPPENED!?" yuuji screeches.
"ARE YOU DYING?" nobara's scream follows.
both pause in his doorway as they see what the ruckus was all about.
you and megumi are in a rather compromising position, on the floor, the sheets tangled around you from your sudden fall, your faces inches apart and you're still pining his wrists to the ground.
megumi tilts his head backwards, giving his friends an upside down glare, while you just grin at them, finding the whole thing entertaining.
yuuji awkwardly apologizes, swiveling around and nearly running away from the scene. nobara's face contorts into disgust.
"gross!" she hollers, before slamming the door shut and chasing after yuuji while wailing something about bleaching her eyes.
megumi tilts his head to look up at you, furrowing his brows in annoyance.
"what, you embarrassed, 'gumi?" you tease with a smirk.
"they could learn to knock" he grumbles back.
"not like they walked in on anything that bad," you muse, lowering your face so your lips could ghost over his. "although they'll pro'lly leave us alone for a while"
sneaky girl, megumi smirks and finally pulls his hands out of your hold so he could wrap his arms around you and pull you completely down against him, slamming your lips together.
"i still won, by the way" you don't miss the chance to remind him of your victory, as soon as his lips trail away from yours and trace along your jaw.
when you finally get up off the ground, megumi picking you up gently to bring you back to the bed, you pull your finishing move, pushing all of your body weight onto him to make him fall onto his back on the mattress. you pin him again, giggling with glee as you do so.
he's flustered, because his mind had been elsewhere, but he can't help but burst into giggles with you, because you look so happy whenever you 'beat' him.
"i win again!" you declare.
distracting him with kisses always worked.
___
icanticanticant the idea of doing this is ruining my fucking life
xoxo ~ jordie
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nomoreusername · 8 months ago
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Next Time Then
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Paring:Newt x female reader
Summary:After standing up up for Newt, he visits you in the slammer.
If you ask me it wasn't even my fault. Unfortunately, nobody bothered to ask. I don't know what they wanted me to do. The dude was being a slinthead so I beat a little sense into him. It serves him right. Maybe now he'll  have some common decency in his life. No one else saw it that way so I'm spending the night in the slammer with no dinner.
"Six thousand and seventy eight, six thousand and seventy nine."
"You alright there love? You sound like you're losin' it already?"Newt asked.
"When'd you get here?"I asked, sitting up.
"Just a minute ago. I wanted to see how long ya'd really go on for,"He shrugged.
"I was trying to count how many stars I could see. I got bored,"I explained.
"You could have just slept,"He suggested.
"No. I didn't want to do that either,"I replied.
"What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't Mr.second-in-command be sleeping with the others?"I teased.
"I hate when ya' call me that,"He complained.
"No you don't. Now what are you doing here? Hate to inform you of this, but this place isn't much."
He looked down at me through the make shift bars.
"I figured you'd get hungry eventually,"He said, tossing me a piece of bread. I successfully caught it like the athlete I am.
"This is why I love you."
"Because I brought ya' bread?"He asked, amused.
"No. Because you were kind enough to bring it. Also you're doing exactly what you're not supposed to be doing right now. You're just full of surprises,"I admitted, looking up at the sky. They were sparkling more than I'd seen than I'd seen them before. It could also be the fact that everything seems better and brighter when he's around.
"So are you apparently. Why'd you beat up poor Jack? The poor blokes nose was broken,"He asked.
"He was being a shuckface,"I responded nonchalantly.
"That's not a very good answer. Lots of people are shuckfaces, but ya' normally don't punch them,"He pointed out.
"He was talking bad about you,"I admitted sheepishly. That was the one thought could set me off. He was to good to be talked about negativity.
"Y/N, I don't want you to be in the slammer. I'd rather have you out here with me,"He said softly.
"I'll work on it,"I said to get a reaction.
"Y/N,"He sighed but I could still hear a grin behind it. "Next time just think about me tellin' you off for not being out here with me. I'm sure that'll stick in your mind."
"What if it's really rude?"I asked, waiting for his next words.
"Y/N,"He started.
"Just kidding. You know you're the only one I'll occasionally listen to."
"You're lucky I love you,"He sighed, sounding so done with my attitude but flustered at the same time. It was adorable that after all this time he still turned red around me.
"I know I am Newt. I'm the luckiest girl in the Glade."
"You're the only girl in the Glade,"He reminded me.
"You have to ruin everything don't you? The one time I'm nice and this is the thanks I get,"I huffed pretending to be offended.
"You're nice to me all the time,"He replied.
"Shh. I have a reputation to keep."
"Y/N-"
"Shh, can you hear it? Y/N, the girl who'll break your nose. Has a nice ring to it don't you think?"I asked innocently.
"You know what I think?"He asked.
"What exactly do you think Newton?"
"I think you need to go to bed before you get any more ideas in that head of yours."
"What if I have a completely different idea?"I asked.
"Then, I don't think it'd be a very smart one."
"What if the idea involves you?"I asked, grinning.
"Then, I'd be scared for my life,"He joked.
"What if it involves you, me, and you breaking me out of here?"I suggested. Even from down here I knew he was rolling his eyes.
"Goodnight Y/N,"He told me, getting up to go.
"Okay, next time then,"I yelled.
"There better not be a bloody next time!"
There was in fact a next time.
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homunculus-argument · 1 year ago
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I found a collection of clipped images of vintage ads, and let me tell you these are hilarious with no context.
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Dude on the left doesn't give a shit about what you think of him. "Whatever, I'm still going to drink my coffee with my breakfast ass-pastries." Dude on the right is offended. "Really? Right in front of my heroin?"
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All your mental health troubles can be cured by having a talk with the drunk girl sitting on the floor of a dive bar bathroom. Like the modern oracle, she dispels wisdom.
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Do not cut off your nose to spite your face! Let us do it for you! Experience the highest end quality of plastic surgery that the 1930s technology can offer! If the war didn't blow your nose off, we can make it look like it sure did!
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Are you too refined, sophisticated and dapper? Would you rather have the rough and manly, beastly airs of the salt trade sailor you sucked off behind the town market three days ago while he called you his pretty little slut? Our doctors can help you.
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This is also a good way to get not only your nose, but your entire face professionally fucked up.
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Trust me bro this is a different strain. It won't happen again this time bro trust me I swear.
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Dude if she gives you that look you better zip it back up before she figures out how to politely tell you how disappointed she is. She came here for the thrill of her life and that's not it.
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Nevermind, she was too polite to break it to you.
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Live footage of the last coherent thought escaping my brain when my meds wear off.
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Have you lived your entire life woefully lacking of dandruff? Fear not, for relief is here! Finally, you can have the same alluring scalp snow as the heinous bitch your husband left you for.
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FALSE! I literally never shut the fuck up.
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The money-eating giraffe will fuck you. That is a promise.
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Successfully fucked by the giraffe, evidently.
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Another satisfied customer. He won't even mind that the beast ate all his money.
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This poor guy just missed the giraffe. By a thread. He was out of town already when this poor man got the news. His entire year is ruined.
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Do you crave the chaotic rush of a manic outburst, but do not have the inherent mechanisms of naturally mania-inducing mental illness? Try AMPHETAMINE! You will be full of ideas, and know for sure what you're going to be doing for the next three months! Disclaimer: The ideas you will have on amphetamine are not guaranteed to be good ideas. And you're probably spending the next three months in jail.
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You know you're sick you dirty little bowlcut slut.
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"Fuck. This. Shit."
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This one came in-built with a weirder fucking caption than I could come up with. Nothing can top this. Not even the giraffe.
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somehow-still-here-7 · 1 year ago
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I am a very loud and expressive person and so when I was watching season two last night with my good friend, whenever I noticed something or thought of something I scribbled it down quickly to get it out of my system and to not ruin the experience for my good friend.
Here are the notes haha
In the scene where Aziraphale is retrieving the box from his front door you can actually see the Gabriel fly crawl inside the box. I hadn’t noticed it before.
When Crowley is trying to get Jim/Gabriel to remember stuff the second time round you hear his distinctive miracle casting sound go off before Gabriel is able to spit out the line from Job. Just thought it was interesting.
With some extra thought about the whole thing I came to realise why ineffable bureaucracy made so much sense. I feel as though some feel it was very out of the blue but it really wasn’t there were hints from the beginning.
For example: Why was Beelzebub so hung up on trying to find Gabriel in the first place? Because they were worried about him. If the two hadn’t found love together Beelzebub wouldn’t be so hell bent on finding him. It wouldn’t concern them at all whether an Angel was missing from Heaven. Just thought it was kinda neat the little inconsistently.
Also I was laughing over the fact that the Gabriel fly was just around watching Jim/his body just do the weirdest shit. Do you reckon he was disgusted watching his body drink hot chocolate for the first time?
What would’ve happened if Jim had actually used the two book successfully as a fly swat and crushed the container? Would the memories have been destroyed? Or would they have just flown everywhere and looked like the set up in heaven with Gabriel’s file.
Also something neat the fact that Gabriel gladly accepted the hot chocolate from Aziraphle and then drank it should’ve been a very strong indicator to Aziraphle and Crowley that Gabriel was not faking anything.
Lastly I had a theory come to mind.
Now that Aziraphale (curses) is going to become the top dog in heaven will he get purple eyes?? Or at least weird eyes
I just thought cause no other Angel has different eyes accept for Gabriel
I would say it has something to do with being an archangel but we see Crowley (who is more or less confirmed Archangel) before his fall and his eyes are pretty normal by all standards.
Thank you for sticking around for my mush of thoughts
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aita-blorbos · 8 months ago
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(Spoilers for Magnus Archives)
AITA for burning my childhood house down
Hello, Jon.
Apologies for the deception, but I wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself.
I’m assuming you’re alone; you always did prefer to read your statements in private. (slightly strained) I wouldn’t try too hard to stop reading; there’s every likelihood you’ll just hurt yourself. So just listen.
Now, shall we turn the page and try again?
WIBTA for starting the apocalypse
I hope you’ll forgive me the self-indulgence, but I have worked so very hard for this moment, a culmination of two centuries of work. It’s rare that you get the chance to monologue through another, and you can’t tell me you’re not curious.
Why does a man seek to destroy the world?
It’s a simple enough answer: for immortality and power. Uninspired, perhaps, but – my god. The discovery, not simply of the dark and horrible reality of the world in which you live, but that you would quite willingly doom that world and confine the billions in it to an eternity of terror and suffering, all to ensure your own happiness, to place yourself beyond pain and death and fear.
It is an awful thing to know about yourself, but the freedom, Jon, the freedom of it all. I have dedicated my life to handing the world to these Dread Powers all for my own gain, and I feel… nothing but satisfaction in that choice.
I am to be a king of a ruined world, and I shall never die.
I believe there are far more people in this world that would take that bargain than you would ever guess. And I have beaten all of them.
Of course, this desire did not manifest overnight. When RS (87, M) first gathered our little band – L, S, and the rest – to discuss and hypothesize on the nature of the things he had learned from R, I felt what I believe we all felt: curiosity, and fear.
But as he compiled his taxonomy and codified his theories on the grand rituals, I began to develop a very specific concern. RS was so obsessed with his ideas on balance, even as our fellows began to experiment and fall to the service of our patrons.
I began to worry that if one of them successfully attempted their ritual, then I would be as much a victim as any, trapped in the nightmare landscape of a twisted world.
At first, I attempted prevention, but the cause seemed hopeless. The only way to ensure I did not suffer the tribulations of what I believed to be an inevitable transformation was to bring it about myself. So what began as an experiment soon became a race.
Beyond that, I was getting older, and mortality began to weigh more heavily on my mind. How much in this world is done because we fear death, the last and greatest terror?
I convinced RS to work on Millbank, leading him to design it as a temple to all the Fears in equilibrium, such that my own modifications to the design of the Panopticon went… unremarked.
It. Took. Years. for the dread of the prisoners to fully suffuse the place, and I was an old man before I made my first attempt at the Watcher’s Crown, sat in the center of that colossal eye, the great ring of cells encircling me like a coronet.
It was… flawed, of course, as all RS’s rituals were, and none of the inmates survived as the power I attempted to harness shook the building almost to pieces, and the murky swamp upon which the prison was built consumed it.
But it left me a gift: For sat in that watchtower, I could see everything I turned my mind to.
It was a dizzying power, and one I discovered I maintained even as I found vessels to extend my life. Of course, I had to make sure the location was kept under my control while I worked on revising my plans, and so I moved the organization I had founded to assist in my research down to London, and the Institute as you know it was born.
I’ll not bore you with details of my bodies and failures through those intervening years. Suffice to say I kept busy, both planning my own next attempt, and doing my best to stymie those others who tried versions of their own.
Surely my interpretation of the Watcher’s Crown had been incomplete; there had been some element of the ritual I had overlooked.
It was not until I met G (70, F) that things began to really come into focus.
You see, the role of Archivist has been part of the Beholding for as far back as my research can go. This isn’t uncommon for the Powers; most of the beliefs around them are guesswork and fallible human interpretation, but there are certain throughlines and consistencies that can be spotted, regardless of the trappings.
But G was unlike any other Archivist. She simply did not care about compiling experiences or collecting the fears of others. She was driven to stop those who served the Powers.
More than once I thought she must secretly be of the Hunt – but there was never that sick joy in her, that thrill of predator and prey. She had simply decided that this was her position in life, and went about it with a practicality that even I found disconcerting at times.
I once asked her what drove her, what had started her down that path. She told me the Desolation had killed her cat.
I don’t know if she was joking, and, to be honest, I could never bring myself to look into her mind and find out for sure.
In any case, G’s ruthless efficiency in derailing and collapsing rituals threw into stark relief a question that had been bothering me for almost a hundred and fifty years: In the whole span of humanity, why had nobody ever succeeded?
Perhaps there were a long line of G throughout history, but I found that hard to credit. Could it be, then, that there was something in the very concept of the rituals that meant they couldn’t succeed?
She was clearly having similar thoughts in that last year, all of which culminated with the People’s Church.
When I saw that she was making no preparations whatsoever to stop it, I realized she was putting into practice a theory, and one she couldn’t afford to be wrong. She was going to wait, and see if the unopposed ritual succeeded, or if it collapsed under its own strain as mine had all those years ago.
Knowing G, I’m sure she had a backup plan if she had miscalculated – but she had not. The ritual failed. And all at once, I realized what had to be done.
You see, the thing about the Fears is that they can never be truly separated from each other. When does the fear of sudden violence transition into the fear of hunted prey? When does the mask of the Stranger become the deception of the Spiral?
Even those that seem to exist in direct opposition rely on each other for their definition as much as up relies on down.
To try and create a world with only the Buried makes as much sense as trying to conceive a world with only down.
Every ritual tied itself so closely to a single power as to render itself impossible. They could bring their patron close, but never sever it from the others, and eventually it would be violently pulled back into the place next to reality where they dwell.
The solution, then, is simple: A new ritual must be devised which will bring through all the Powers at once. All fourteen, as I had hoped I could complete it before any new powers such as Extinction were able to fully emerge. All under the Eye’s auspices, of course. We mustn’t forget our roots.
And there was only one being that could possibly serve as a lynchpin for this new ritual: The Archivist. A position that had so recently become vacant, thanks to G’s ill-timed retirement plans.
Because the thing about the Archivist is that – well, it’s a bit of a misnomer.
It might, perhaps, be better named: The Archive.
Because you do not administer and preserve the records of fear, Jon. You are a record of fear, both in mind as you walk the shuddering record of each statement, and in body as the Powers each leave their mark upon you.
You are a living chronicle of terror.
Perhaps, then, if I could find an Archivist and have each Power mark them, have them confront each one and each in turn instill in them a powerful and acute fear for their life, they could be turned into a conduit for the coming of this – nightmare kingdom.
Do you see where I’m going, Jon?
It does tickle me, that in this world of would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters, the Chosen One is simply that – someone I chose. It’s not in your blood, or your soul, or your destiny. It’s just in your own, rotten luck.
I’ll admit, my options were somewhat limited, but My God, when you came to me already marked by the Web, I knew it had to be you. I even held out some small hope you had been sent by the Spider as some sort of implicit blessing on the whole project, and, do you know what, I think it was.
Of course, I had to bide my time, get a measure of you before I began to push, learn how you worked – So I decided I would wait until something came for you, and see how you reacted. Attacks upon the Archives were not uncommon during G’s tenure, and, while she was always prepared, I made sure you would not be.
I reasoned if you couldn’t survive a single encounter, you were unlikely to make it through all fourteen. So, when JP attacked, I watched eagerly, one hand on the gas release from the start.
You acquitted yourself well enough, so I decided to see how far you would get, though I waited until the worms were in you before I pulled the lever. I needed to make sure you felt that fear all the way to your bones.
The discovery that one of the Stranger’s minions had infiltrated the Institute in the aftermath was certainly a pleasant bonus. Even if that sliver of paranoia, that vague wrongness you couldn’t quite place wouldn’t count as a mark, it was only a matter of time before it confronted you in a far more direct and affecting matter.
Admittedly, given the advent of the Unknowing, I needn’t have bothered. But what’s the old saying about hindsight?
More important to me was Sasha’s encounter with the Distortion. If it had taken an interest, then I very much wanted it to cross your path.
So I found one of its current victims and convinced her to make a statement.
Poor H (~20, F). I actually had to put her in a taxi myself, she was getting so lost in those narrow London side streets.
It worked, though.
Between the stabbing and at least two desperate flights into its doors – you’re marked very deeply by the Spiral.
JL (~70, M) was a surprise, of course, and I was forced to improvise. I had no idea how much G would have told him, and he could very easily have derailed everything if you learned too much too fast.
I justified it to myself saying I was going to have to send you out into the world anyway, if you were to encounter more of the Powers, but I can’t honestly pretend it wasn’t a… rather rash move.
Still. I’d requested Detective T (~25, F) be assigned to the case when they found G’s body in the hope that having a Hunter in the mix would eventually lead to a confrontation, and setting you up as a killer certainly hastened that.
Then it was just a matter of feeding you statements to lead you to a few Avatars I thought were likely to harm you – but probably would stop short of actually killing you.
J (27, F) served her purpose exactly as I had hoped, as did our dearly departed Mr. C, marking you for the Desolation and the Vast.
Honestly, I had – nothing to do with M (23, F) and her Slaughter adventure, but when I saw the situation, I made sure to trap her here, so when her rage bubbled over you would be right there, a ready target.
I didn’t foresee the mark coming from surgery gone wrong, but it was a very pleasant surprise.
The Unknowing was a distraction, but not an unwelcome one. For this to work, you needed more than just the marks; you needed power. And that was something the Unknowing served to test, though it posed no actual danger in the grand scheme of things.
And it did serve another purpose, of course. It inadvertently pushed you to confront death, a mark I had been very worried about trying to orchestrate. If I tried too early, you’d just die. Too late, and you might be powerful enough to see the attempt coming, and maybe even understand why.
As it was, it was just right, and once again, you came through with flying colors.
By this point, your abilities were coming along in leaps and bounds, and I was concerned that meeting face-to-face might end up with you – (sigh) – Knowing something you shouldn’t.
I had initially planned to go into hiding, but when your colleagues surprised me with the police, well. It was simple enough to cut a deal.
All that remained, then, were the Dark, the Flesh, the Buried, and the Lonely.
I was a little put out when that idiot JH (???, M) misinterpreted my letters and attacked the Institute too soon, before you were even out of the hospital, but then – Ho, you should have see my face when you voluntarily went to him.
I couldn’t see what happened in there, of course, but given how you came out, I’m very sure it counts as a mark.
I suspected the coffin might turn up again, and once it did, it was simply a matter of getting any, uh… restraining factors you might have had flying off on a wild goose chase, and waiting.
Honestly, Detective T has been proving invaluable through this process. I’d been racking my brains for months about what I could use to lure you in.
And, of course, I knew the Dark Sun was just sitting there waiting. So when it came time, I just whipped up another apocalypse and sent you on your merry way.
Then all that remained was the Lonely.
Poor P (~50, M). He really should have left well enough alone. Or just done what I’d asked in the first place.
Ah well. He knew what I was attempting, and was very unwilling to cooperate until I made him a little wager about M (same age as you, Jon, M).
Of course, he had no way of knowing that, in addition to setting you up for the final mark, he was giving you all the tools you needed to escape from it.
How is M, by the way? He looks well. You will keep an eye on him when all this is over, won’t you? He’s earned that.
And there, I think, we are brought just about up to date. I have enjoyed our little trip down memory lane, but past here lies only impatience.
You are prepared. You are ready. You are marked. The power of the Ceaseless Watcher flows through you, and the time of our victory is here.
Don’t worry, Jon. You’ll get used to it here, in the world that we have made.
Now. Repeat after me.
You who watch and know and understand none. You who listen and hear and will not comprehend. You who wait and wait and drink in all that is not yours by right.
Come to us in your wholeness.
Come to us in your perfection.
Bring all that is fear and all that is terror and all that is the awful dread that crawls and chokes and blinds and falls and twists and leaves and hides and weaves and burns and hunts and rips and bleeds and dies!
Come to us.
I – OPEN – THE DOOR!
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esmedelacroix · 8 months ago
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"I hate your big dumb combat boots,"
husband!miguel x f!reader ♡
10 Things I Hate About You ← mini-series masterlist
"I hate it when you stare," ← previous part
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Home was quiet. Not too quiet but just right for your current state. You had just successfully pulled yourself out of a writing slump and started working on your new novel.
You needed everything to be a certain way when you wrote your first paragraph or two. You sat in your shared room at the desk in front of your window. You had an aromatherapy eucalyptus candle burning, your cat sleeping right next to your laptop, and you were wrapped in a warm faux blanket.
The soft hum on the heater could be heard but that was all. It was perfection. Until it wasn't. Your balance was disturbed by the most annoying sound. The creak—creak—creaking of the floorboard.
Heavy footsteps that would sound like stomping to anyone. Followed by the sound of footsteps slightly lighter and Miguel whistling "Girl From Ipanema"
"Hey baby," he said as he popped his head into the bedroom now completely disrupting your peace. You couldn't even bring yourself to say anything to him, you simply picked up a pillow and threw it at him. "Hey, What was that for?" he chuckled.
"You ruined my writer's homeostasis," you sighed.
"Aw, look at you using nerdy little biology words," he tested as he plopped on the bed and urged you to join him. You rolled your eyes but still cuddled into his side.
"I can't help myself, you're starting to rub off on me," you quipped as he took your hand and pressed little kisses into it.
"Did you get some work done though baby?" he asked.
You hummed in response before joking, "Yeah, until you interrupted,"
"Okay, sure," he hummed.
You didn't have to tell him because he knew. He knew that the moment you heard his boots stomping about, that's when you felt most at peace.
He always arrived at home being extra obnoxious with those winter boots of his and the whistling because he knew that the moment you knew that he was home, you could finally calm down knowing that he was safe.
Making sure that nothing happened during a mission. Truthfully you loved his big dumb combat boots.
. . .
next part → "And the way you read my mind,"
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taglist: @lilscast @lazyjellyfish300
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