#you can breathe. creating is a messy messy thing. allow yourself and your process to be covered in paint.

[syn4k]

the imperfect project you finished is worth infinitely more than the perfect one you didn't because it wasn't good enough for you while you were making it. just btw.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Your Overstimulated And What They Do

Aegon: If it concerns him, he tries to ease the situation. If it does not, then he leaves you alone and lets you work it out yourself. But if you force him to help, he knows you need space to calm down and process what has happened. He tries to offer support and comfort, but in the end, feels it's up to you to manage your feelings.

Aemond: Starts off by asking what’s wrong. If you have a hard time answering and explaining or are easily agitated, he’ll switch tactics to something you've been doing since childhood to comfort you. Could be as simple as rubbing your back or arm, running his fingers through your hair, reading to you. If you are a little easier to talk to but still agitated, he’ll talk you through taking deep breaths.

Jacaerys: He would use a calming and soothing approach. He would ask if you needed time to yourself and then offer her a cup of tea or a warm bath. If you're open/willing to cuddle or talk, he would offer support and validation.

Lucerys: If/when you are overstimulated, he will take the time to listen to your needs and determine the best course of action. He will ensure you are comfortable and that your boundaries are respected.

Rhaenyra: She comforts you and reassures you that you are loved and cherished. She talks softly to you, reminding you how much she cares for you and how she will always be there for you. She gives you space if you ask for it, and lets you know you are safe with her. She listens without judgment and without trying to fix things. She offers hugs or physical affection if it feels right, but goes at your pace and doesn't try to rush anything.

Daemon: When you are feeling overstimulated he tends to bring you into a safe space to calm down, where you can have time to collect yourself and process your emotions. He'll make sure to listen to your needs and support you in what you need until your ready to go forward again.

Alicent: When you are feeling overstimulated she likes to create a safe space for you and allows you to process your emotions and needs. This can include things like holding you, playing soothing background music, and making sure you have all the necessities nearby. Additionally, offering to give you a massage can be helpful in calming you down and helping you relax. Lastly, reminding you to take deep breaths and allowing you the time you need to come down naturally can be very beneficial.

Helena: She begins by taking a step back and assessing the situation. She looks at your body language and tries to understand the cause of your overstimulation. She then asks you if you need any space, or if there is anything she can do to help. Depending on the type of overstimulation, she offers to hold you, massage your back or shoulders, take over a chore like cooking or cleaning, or simply listen without judgment.

Harwin: He makes sure to give you the space that you need to relax, and assures you that he's there for you if you need him. He'll also help with any chores or projects that might be stressing you out, such as cleaning the kitchen or organizing a messy drawer. Additionally, he'll try to have an open dialogue about the situation, so that you can talk through your thoughts and emotions in a healthy way.

Cregan: When you become overwhelmed by the intensity of a situation, he will use body language and touch to comfort you and bring you a sense of security. He’ll hold your hands and caress you while expressing support through his voice and words. He'll also try to create an atmosphere that allows you to calm down so that you can refocus and regain control of your emotions.

Criston: He'll ask if you're okay, and comfort you if you're not. He'll hug you and stroke your hair or back, and try to comfort you emotionally by telling you how much he adores you. Sometimes he'll try to distract you with something lighthearted, like a funny story. If you wanted to talk about it, he'll listen and try to see if there's anything he can do to make you feel better.

[wilossspainting]

Elevate Your Home's Ambiance with Exceptional Interior House Painting Services

Introduction

The ambiance of our living spaces significantly influences our daily lives, and one of the most effective ways to enhance that ambiance is through professional interior house painting. Whether you're moving into a new home or simply looking to breathe new life into your current abode, the expertise of professional painters can make a substantial difference. In this article, we'll delve into the advantages of enlisting the services of seasoned professionals and explore why investing in a professional touch for your interior paintwork is a decision that pays off.

The Art of Color Consultation

Selecting the perfect color palette for your home is a nuanced task that can be challenging for many homeowners. Professional interior house painting services often come bundled with the invaluable perk of color consultation. These experts take into account the unique characteristics of each room, such as its size, the amount of natural light it receives, and your personal style preferences. This personalized approach ensures that the colors chosen harmonize seamlessly with your living space.

Precision in Surface Preparation

The key to a flawless and enduring paint job lies in the thorough preparation of surfaces. Before a single drop of paint is applied, professional painters meticulously prepare the walls. This involves cleaning, sanding, and priming, addressing any imperfections to create an ideal foundation for the paint. The attention to detail in this phase sets the stage for a smooth and long-lasting finish that transforms your space.

Investing in Quality Materials

The caliber of materials used in the painting process plays a pivotal role in the final result. Professional painters have access to premium paints and tools that may not be readily available to the average homeowner. Opting for high-quality paint ensures vibrant colors, durability, and resistance to wear and tear. The use of top-notch brushes and rollers by professionals contributes to a flawless finish that enhances the overall aesthetic of your home.

Efficiency and Time Management

Painting a home, whether it's a single room or the entire house, can be a time-consuming endeavor, especially for those without experience. Professional painters bring efficiency to the forefront, completing the job in a fraction of the time it might take an amateur. Their expertise allows them to work swiftly without compromising on the quality of their craft, minimizing disruptions to your daily routine.

Maintaining a Clean and Tidy Workspace

Painting projects can be messy affairs, and without proper precautions, your floors, furniture, and other surfaces might bear the brunt of it. Professional painters are not only skilled in their craft but are also diligent in maintaining a clean and tidy workspace. They utilize drop cloths and painter's tape to protect your belongings, ensuring that the only thing left behind is a beautifully painted room.

Attention to Detail: A Hallmark of Professionalism

The true differentiator between a do-it-yourself paint job and a professional one lies in the meticulous attention to detail. Professional painters possess an innate ability to focus on the finer points, ensuring that every edge is crisply defined and every color is seamlessly blended. This attention to detail results in a polished and refined look that elevates the overall appearance of your home.

A Long-Term Investment in Your Home

While the initial cost of professional interior house painting services may seem like an investment, it's crucial to recognize it as a long-term enhancement for your home. A professionally executed paint job not only transforms the aesthetic appeal of your living space but also contributes to the overall value of your property. Whether you plan to sell in the future or simply want to revel in a comfortable and stylish living space, the benefits of professional painting extend far beyond the immediate visual improvements.

Conclusion:

In conclusion, if you're contemplating a change in your living space, entrust the task to professionals who can turn your vision into a reality with skill and precision. Elevate your home's ambiance with the exceptional interior house painting services in Peekskill, NY offered by Wilos Painting Our commitment to quality, attention to detail, and passion for transforming spaces make us the ideal choice for bringing new life to your home.

[genshinboys]

Thigh job with Genshin Boys - Xiao

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Fem reader x Xiao

When you enter your flat, a handsome but grumpy Yaksha is sitting cross-legged on your bed resting his chin in the palm of his small hand. He grimaces and shoots something that can be referred to as a death stare in your direction. 

Here we go again. You think to yourself as you close the door behind you.

„You are late.” He basically growls at you fixing you with another menacing glare.

„It’s nice to see you too, Baby.” You approach the sulking adeptus and lean in to kiss his forehead but, alas, he backs away and frowns in turn.

„Oh, no kisses then?” A smile on your face but a sneer in your voice makes his blood boil.

It is like a match in a powder barrel.

„Don’t play dumb with me, Y/N!” He warns. „I know all of your cheap tricks.”

You let out an annoyed huff. Arms crossed on your chest.

„Why would you even ask when I saw you following me all the damn time, hmm?” You accuse your boyfriend, gazing right into Xiao's averting eyes.

„I wasn’t follow-,” and then he goes silent knowing fully well that lying isn’t an option with you.

„So?” You nag, hoping for any kind of response. „No need to be this jealous, Xiao.”

„Don’t get weird ideas in your head.” The boy deadpans. „I’m not jealous!” He defends himself but it doesn’t sound convincing enough even for his own ears. He blushes and turns his head away.

You let out a sigh and smile warmly at your boyfriend’s pettiness.

Does he even realise how cute he is? You briefly wonder and then you reach for his silky hair and ruffle it affectionately.

It’s been a taxing, full of ups and downs journey since you met the haunted by karmic debt Yaksha. At first, he didn’t even acknowledge your presence. You were just another bothersome individual and he could not care less about your existence. It was unnerving. He was snarky, seething with rage for no reason, hiding his feelings for so long that it seemed to you that they were going to explode inside of him one day leading to his utter despair and demise. You got to know about his past and the weight of his karmic debt from Zhongli. You took pity. Somehow you felt compelled to help the boy, regardless of his repulsive demeanour. The golden-eyed Yaksha was of a different opinion, though. 

Xiao didn’t want you to get close to him. He couldn’t make any sense of your stubbornness. Why would you even want to have anything to do with him? Him? 

A barbaric monster, eaten up alive by remorse and regret. 

A blood-thirsty fiend whose sole purpose of breathing is to slaughter and spread fear wherever he shows his face. 

These were the thoughts so deeply engraved in his unfortunate soul that he couldn’t allow anyone to come near him.

He perceived himself as a hollow, barren of any human emotions vessel. The only feelings he was familiar with were pain and the burden of his legacy that he is forced to carry up to this day.

Bizarrely, as time had passed he was taken aback by some unfamiliar sensation of tightness in his chest. It wasn’t painful. Nothing that would come close to the distress caused by the divine will. It wasn’t permanent, either. It only happened in your presence, as Yaksha would hesitantly observe. Sometimes it got even worse. It would be accompanied by this fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

„Why are you this close? Huh? Do you have a death wish?”

„Move, I don’t have time to sit around and be idle like you do.”

„You have no respect for the adepti. Stop fooling around.” 

The more he pushed you away the more you were determined to lure him in. You couldn’t stop laughing when one day Zhongli informed you that the troubled Yaksha came to him to seek advice regarding this weird tightness in his chest and an upset stomach when you were around. 

And so, you smile fondly at your boyfriend as he yanks your hand away not liking the way you tousle the emerald green strands.

„I’m sorry XIao. I didn’t mean to be late. Just wanted to buy some jewellery.” You point to your thigh to get the adeptus’ attention back where it should be, which is you, not the wall.

Xiao glances at your thigh doing his best to remain impassive and uninterested. Unfortunately, his eyes widen a little and his mouth is somehow stuck hanging open as if he were to say something but the words never come out.

„You saw me bargaining with the shopkeeper, nothing wrong about that, right?” You explain to the adeptus currently captivated by the glimmering golden chain adorning your thigh.

Xiao has a lot to learn when it comes to dealing with his own emotions. You are acutely aware of that. He doesn’t know how to react, how to show that he cares or process what he feels. He doesn’t also entirely understand the purpose of half of the things that you insist on doing to him. Playful bites, tickling, holding his hand in public. He doesn’t question these actions even though it’s all a novelty. He does know for sure that it makes him feel flustered and all hot inside. 

Does he despise it? No. 

Would he like for you to continue? The answer to that question is definitely affirmative but Xiao is not going to admit it out loud. 

He also has no clue how to initiate all of these things. Is he supposed to bite you back as well? What if he hurts you? Everything is so overwhelming as he’s endured years of solitude and sadness. You have to patiently teach him everything from square one. Nevertheless, it’s incredibly rewarding and you find yourself falling for him a bit more with each clumsy kiss, a shy but warm hug and an awkward attempt at complimenting you.

However, despite being not well-versed in sexual encounters, Xiao does pleasantly surprise you by catching up with everything real quick. 

So, as his eyes are fixated on the trinket, you once again run your hand through his lush and long hair.

„Why would you even buy it? Pointless.” The boy retorts grumpily this time showing no signs of objection to your tender gesture. He moves his head up a little, losing himself to the tingling sensation going down his scalp.

„So that you can stare at me like that with those needy eyes?” You answer truthfully, barring the real intent behind your actions.

He snorts and his face turns into that lovely shade of pink and then deep red within seconds.

He would absolutely turn his gaze away if not for the fact that you take his chin in your hand and thrust his face upwards forcing him to look you straight in the eyes.

„If you don’t like it you can take it off.”

„No need.” 

You chuckle softly.

„Let me make amends for my delay.” 

You take a step forward and place your knee on the verge of the bed. Xiao drinks in the view of your thigh-highs squeezing into the meat of your legs. The chain shimmering lightly right above the lacy material.

„You can touch it, Baby.” You encourage the nervous Yaksha.

Visibly tensed, he reaches for the exposed skin and lightly traces the chain with his unsure fingers. It almost tickles but you let him do as he pleases and soon Xiao attempts to fully envelop your thigh with his greedy hand. He does cover half of it at best, but he seems satisfied and proceeds to squeeze it. It feels soft to the touch and he shivers at how warm and inviting your legs are in contrast to his icy-cold and sweaty palms. Bewitched, Xiao aches for more and he selfishly pulls you in so that you are now kneeling in front of him on the bed.

He stops breathing when you swiftly unbutton your shorts and undress for him. You let his eyes roam over your half-naked body for some time enthralled by the way Xiao’s pupils dilate in awe.

You lean into him as Xiao pulls you towards him for a messy kiss. It isn’t gentle as usual but full of passion and urgency. He whines when you bite on his lower lip but then you gently stroke him with your tongue to ease the discomfort.

Slowly, very very slowly, your hands go down his torso only to finally stop at the bulge in Xiao’s loose pants. You tug at the waistband and Xiao lifts his ass a bit to help you strip him naked. His penis, hard and heavy, resting now on his lower belly. He hisses when you palm his hard erection and that simple touch sends jolts of electricity down his spine. It leaves him intoxicated once you start gliding with the heel of your palm up and down the underside of his member. You repeat the movement and Xiao’s body jerks in response.

„Don’t tease.” The adeptus pleads through gritted teeth.

„I’m so sorry, Baby. Gonna make you feel real good.”

Xiao can feel himself growing impossibly harder when you place your feet on either side of his hips. When he looks down he can see your wet folds and the pinkish colour of your tight hole. Lying on your back, you prop yourself on your elbows so that you can look at Xiao’s face in the process. You scoot a bit closer to the confused boy, your bum is right in front of his erected shaft. You take his cock in your hand and guide him in between your thighs. In the beginning, you try to be delicate. You gently rub the tip of his cock, circle his shaft with your fingers and with a fisted hand spread his pre-cum all the way down to his pubic hair so that he is thoroughly lubricated. You wouldn’t like to hurt the boy during the whole ordeal. 

His breath is shallow. Excitedly, you clasp your thighs together and start playing with his dick. You rotate your hips and massage his cock. It slides in and out and Xiao growls feeling ecstatic. You exchange between rubbing him with your thighs or gliding your hand along his cock, starting at the very top and working your way down to the bottom until Xiao can’t stifle his cries anymore. A few more strokes and he is definitely going to beg. 

Xiao is on fire. It feels too good to be true and he wants this moment to last forever. He licks his dry lips and moans wantonly thrusting his hips forward. He meets you mid-way and the friction it creates every time he pushes his dick in between your legs leaves him gasping.

„You’re making me cum, Y/N.” He cries out for the last time before it is too late to warn you.

„Then cum for me, Baby.” 

Obediently, Xiao shoots his thick and heavy load all over your lower body. For a moment the world around him seems out of focus and it makes him dizzy. He pants heavily and can’t catch his breath. He feels as if he was drowning. But then, your loving arms envelop him and he is safe again. You gently stroke his chest hugging him from behind. He melts in your embrace letting his head rest on your shoulder. His erratic heartbeat slowly going back to its usual rhythm.

„I think it looks pretty on you.”

„Hmm?” You want the boy to clarify what he meant.

„The chain... Looks pretty.”

„Oh.” 

Shakily, he reaches out to put your hand into his and he squeezes them together. 

„I’ll never let you lose yourself again, XIao. I love you and I will protect you forever.”

Xiao recognizes the familiar feeling of tightness in his chest. A single tear rolls down his cheek but he hurriedly wipes it before you can notice.

„Shut up.” The boy responds angrily and kisses you breathless. 

Other boys:

Albedo

Diluc

Kaeya

Childe

Zhongli

Kazuha

[t0shii]

% hq boys teaching you how to kiss

.! suna, matsukawa, bokuto (sep) x gn!r

.! fluff/ mattsun's is a lil angsty but not rlly, lightly proofread

.! suna rintaro pls teach me how to kiss next! thanks

suna

"rin, will you teach me how.... to kiss?" when you had originally asked, the both of you were chill about it, but now that it was about to happen your heart was racing faster than car. "okay sorry if i mess up... i'll admit i'm a little nervous." you confess shyly, heat rushing to your face. "well it's your first time so it's normal to mess up and be nervous. he explains, sitting down on the floor in front of you. he was close, really close. like you could feel his breath on your lips close, he cups your face with his calloused hands and pressed his forehead against yours, "tell me if you get uncomfortable or anything." the truth was, he had been wanting to kiss you for three long years now, so when you had originally asked, who was he to say no to a kiss with his crush of three years? he was a nervous wreck but kept his cool as to not make you anymore nervous than you already were, and the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. he waits for your, "mhm." before gently placing his lips on yours.

he leads the kiss but isn't too aggressive, actually, he was extremely gentle and the kiss felt genuine. he pulled away every now and then to let you catch your breath and make sure you weren't uncomfortable. the kiss began getting oddly heated and for once he didn't know what to do, he pulls away causing you to internally pout. "are you sure you've never done this before?" he raises an eyebrow, your mouth drops, "what's that supposed to mean?", "it means you're not half bad." you decide to take the compliment, awkward silence filling the narrow space between the two of you. "y/n.", butterflies swirling in your stomach at the sound of your name on his lips, his face goes red as he clears his throat, avoiding eye contact with you, "can i... can i kiss you again?" who were you to say no to a kiss with your crush of three years?

matsuwaka

"issei, can i ask you a favor?", "depends on the favor.", "i want you to teach me how to kiss." and that's how you got into this situation that you were starting to regret as he smirked at you and teased you so much you were a stuttering mess. when you asked, you didn't mean right then and there but he was definitely up for it, giving you a sarcastic "that's an odd favor but how can i say no to you?". suddenly the teasing comes to a halt and his face inches closer and closer to your own, "is this okay?" he asks gently you give him a nod in return, unable to utter anything more than a shakey, "mhm." he interlocks his lips with yours, starting slow and soft, which you were grateful for. he breaks apart, gives you a stern "tell me when you want to stop." and waits for your approval to kiss you again, creating a steady pace, allowing you to experiment and familiarize yourself with the feeling.

as time passes, the kiss gets a little too heated for mattsun's liking and he breaks apart. "did i do something wrong?" you panic, worried you made him uncomfortable which results in a laugh from your best-friend which causes confusion in you. "no you did nothing wrong, it's me actually." you look at him with a puzzled look on your face. 'i guess now's a better time than never, fuck it.' he thinks to himself. "you do know i like you right, like... like like you. a lot. for a year now. how can i keep kissing you like this knowing i'll only be your friend after?" your mouth drops at his confession, "i-i had no idea." you mumble, suddenly embarrassed and feeling guilty that you had even asked him this in the first place. "it's not your fault." he sighs, "i just-" he's cut off by you pulling him into a hard kiss, cupping your hands over his cheeks. when you break apart he's actually dumbfounded, "why you you ask me out then?"

bokuto

"bo, i need to ask you something, but don't freak out." you speak, causing your energetic friend to move his attention to you. he looks down at your laying figure on top of his own. "what's up?", "i want you to... teach me... how to kiss.... BUT don't feel pressured to say yes or anything." he looks at you for a minute, "you want me to? are you sure?" he's a little shocked at first. "yeah.", "okay let's do it then! right now? we can do it now if you want." he starts getting excited, but calms himself down so he doesn't make you uncomfortable. "well we can whenever you want, it doesn't have to be now." he gushed, a blush forming on his face, 'play it cool kotaro dont make them uncomfortable'. he mentally scolds himself. you think on it for a moment, "hmm right now might be best." you mumble, the both of you sit up so that, you're straddling his waist. he looks down at you and studies your features, 'an angel' is all he can say to describe you in the moment, hair a little messy from the nap you had woken up from not to long ago, sleep still apparent on your face, the slight bags under your eyes suited you nicely, he thought.

"can i kiss you?" he blurts out, face turning bright red in the process. you giggle out a "yes" and immediately his lips are attached to yours. it's a spontaneous, exciting kind of kiss, a little rushed, which was expected from him. you bring your hands up to tug on the hair attached his neck, resulting in a little groan from him which you paid no mind to. he suddenly breaks apart from your kiss, eyebrows furrowing and his mouth forming a frown, "y/n you like me, right?", immediately heat rushes to your own cheeks as you give him a nod 'yes', "okay good." he breathes, giving you a peck on the lips before pressing his forehead onto yours, "because i like you too so this means we're dating now, if thats okay with you."

[songbirdstyles]

tinsel

summary: you have a very ... special gift for harry this year

warnings: this is actually just smut. female receiving oral, doggy style, choking, spanking, some fluff

word count: 4.7k

a/n: can you tell i ran out of inspo for the title :// anyway here’s my very belated holiday smut that is completely unedited and took me, like, two days to write! enjoy!

The door from the front of the house creaks open and slams shut just as you’ve finished wrapping the strip of gold tinsel around your neck, tied in a loose knot down the valley of your bare chest and ending just above your lower stomach. He’s earlier than expected - not by much, only a couple of moments, but it still sends a jolt up your spine as you hear him moving in the kitchen just below you. And Harry stomps around downstairs like a fucking madman - cabinets open and shut and sneaker clad feet clomp vigorously on the hardwood, loud even from the floor above him. It makes you wonder, for a moment, if he’d had a bad day at work - a few messed up scenes, or perhaps he’d forgotten his lines and flubbed in front of everyone. If that’s true or even if it isn’t you know he’ll be searching for you any moment, ducking his head into every room and door to see where you may be hiding from him.

He’ll find you eventually, surely, and you’ll be here - you give yourself one more look in the mirror before pushing open the bathroom door, and you pad lightly across the floor, making sure your footsteps are light enough that your boyfriend won’t hear the floor creak. You push yourself onto the bed, then, shifting onto your back with your shoulders pressed to the pillows, spine pressed to the wooden headboard lining the top of your bed. Pillows sink into your bare skin, covers wrinkling beneath your weight, and you reach over to Harry’s nightstand to pick up his worn copy of Pulp by Charles Bukowski, fingertips roaming over the soft, touch worn edges of the paper where he’s spent hours poring over the words. You flip it open to where he has a page dog-eared in the middle of the book from when he’d nearly fallen asleep reading it last night - just as you hear footsteps beginning to ascend up the staircase down the hallway through your cracked open bedroom door, you bite on your bottom lip to suppress your smile and settle on a focused pretense, as though Pulp is the only thing you can think about.

In fact, it’s possibly the least important thing on your mind, especially as Harry’s steps begin to grow louder and closer on the hardwood hallway. He’s humming beneath his breath - the melody of some song you can’t quite hear well enough to identify - and you can already feel a smile beginning to tug your lips upward as you flip a page. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see (and hear, for that matter) Harry push your bedroom door open, the doorknob knocking into the wall beside it lightly with the force of it. The cool air from the hallway floats into the room, biting at your exposed skin that isn’t covered by the piece of tinsel around your neck, and you can feel goosebumps cropping up on your flesh. He takes a step in -

He stops, and you can’t quite stop yourself from beginning to smile.

“Hey, Har,” you greet, voice light and as nonchalant as you can make it - it’s a difficult task, more than you’d like it to be, but you keep the quiver of excitement out of your voice as best as you can manage. “How was work?”

It’s then that you allow yourself to look at him, resting the back of your scalp against the headboard as your eyes meet his - he isn’t looking at your eyes, though, orbs roaming up and down your bare body. They focus on your chest, nipples peaked in the cold air of your bedroom, before trailing down the piece of tinsel draped down your stomach and the swell of your hip, trailing off at the side of your torso onto the comforter, impeccably made except for the indent your body has made. His cheeks are flushed, hair messy and his skin is still slightly stained with the makeup from set - looking at him makes your stomach flip, and your grip on his book tightens ever so slightly.

“You okay, there?” you inquire, faux innocence seeping into your voice as though you’ve no clue as to why he would possibly be flustered - it isn’t every day he walks into your bedroom to see you lying completely naked except for the piece of tinsel around your neck. “You look a bit flustered.”

Flustered is more of an understatement than calling his gaze turned on and you watch the light red blush creep up the sides of his face to his ears as he takes a step closer to the bed, steps scuffling on the plush carpet on the floor. “What’re you doin’?”

“What am I doing?”

“Teasin’ me.”

You raise your eyebrow, then, and reach beside you to rest the book face down on the bed, largely abandoned. It was an afterthought of a prop, anyway - he likes watching you with his things - says it makes him feel all warm and domestic. It’s sweet and intimate unlike how Harry’s looking at you now, gaze darkening with every slow roll up and down your body, almost predatory. “I’m not teasing,” you finally respond, pushing yourself to sit up onto your knees and, fuck, you can see the way he exhales so sharply when you move makes your stomach jolt. “How am I teasing?”

Harry takes another step towards the bed as you crawl to the edge - his palm, warm and heavy, moves to cup your jaw, thumb stroking circles into your skin that are so soft and gentle compared to the words he says next - “Sittin’ here, naked an’ waiting for me. Tinsel - like a gift.”

His free hand drops to the tinsel tied around your neck, taking hold of the decoration and tugging lightly just to watch the way it pulls your head forward, pressing against the column of your throat as your breath is harshly cut off. “More comfortable to be naked,” you tell him, unable to stop the teasing lilt from working into your every syllable. Your skin heats under his touch as his fingers toy with the end of the tinsel bow you’ve created, hands entirely too far away from where you’re beginning to truly need him - it’s hard to resist the desire to jut your chest forward for him to caress but you swallow the urge. “Don’t you think? I was reading your book - Pulp, the one you’ve been reading - it’s quite good.”

“Is it?”

It’s not a question and he clearly couldn’t give less of a shit about what you’d been reading but you respect him for at least attempting to seem interested, even if one measly glance downwards towards the tent in his trousers tells you exactly what he’s desiring from this encounter - but, fuck. You like having fun with it.

“Extremely interesting -”

“What’s it about?”

You can’t quite think of an answer to that one, truthfully, mouth opening and closing a few times before you finally glance up at him, eyes wide and searching for any pretense of innocence you can muster but you can tell simply from the look on his face that he isn’t buying a damn second of it. You hadn’t processed a word of the book and you know it and he knows it, and he tuts lightly beneath his breath.

“You’re a tease,” he says again, words ringing poignant and truthful in the air, and you shrug simply. “You wanted t’get me all flustered - sit here an’ pretend y’don’t know what you’re doing - teasing me.”

You bring your palms up to Harry’s chest, fingers fiddling with the buttons of his silk shirt as you begin to undo the two halves of the fabric - before you can make it even halfway down his torso he’s moved the hand on your jawline to grab your wrists, halting your movements in their tracks. “I’m not teasing,” you tell him, pushing yourself up onto your knees so your face is nearly aligned with his - you tilt your head up, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips, and he returns it, grip tightening on your wrists and tugging further on the tinsel to hold your face to his. “Consider it an early Christmas gift,” you finish, muffled against his lips, sliding your hands up to wrap your arms around his neck.

It seems whatever fight Harry had had has disappeared with your lips on his - his hands return to your face before sliding down your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they trace your skin. Thumbs slide over your hardened nipples before making their way to the curve of your waist, squeezing your skin just to hear the way you yelp into his mouth - with a smile against your lips Harry’s hands move further down. Warm palms grope at the globes of your ass and your back arches with the touch, grip around his neck tightening as a soft whine escapes your lips.

“Still a tease,” Harry decides, then, pulling apart from you, lips kiss swollen and red. “An’ - normally I think I’d punish you.”

Your stomach flips and you can feel moisture dampening your inner thighs - you squeeze them tighter together at the thought.

“But - it’s Christmas,” he continues, though the holiday truly arrives in a mere couple of days. “I’ll let y’off the hook.”

“Good,” you affirm, fingernails scratching lightly at the nape of Harry’s neck - you can feel a shiver roll through his spine at the sensation, and it brings another smile to your lips as you lean your head up further to kiss him once more. Your lips part for him and his tongue slips in your mouth with no resistance, hands sliding up and down the slope of your lower back to hold your body to him. “Not that - you know - I’d be opposed to being punished.”

Your boyfriend hums at that and his palms slide down to the backs of your thighs, nails scratching at the skin, and you hum into his mouth. “I’ll think about it,” Harry murmurs - it’s the last thing he says before he grips the backs of your thighs, fingers digging into your flesh, and flips you onto your back with an embarrassingly low amount of effort. You yelp, feeling the comforter, soft and gentle against your back, and your legs instinctively part for Harry to slot his body between them. His arms bracket your head between them, palms pressed to the bed as he leans over you, and you push your head up to crash your lips to Harry’s - he meets you halfway, teeth gnashing and tongues fighting, and you raise your hands to rake through his hair, tugging at the curls between your fingers.

Your ankles hook around Harry’s back, pulling his lower body closer to yours until the bulge in his pants brushes against your bare, dripping folds - he hisses at even the slightest bit of simulation, hips rutting against yours. Your craning neck to reach his lips is lessened when Harry drops onto his forearms, face pushing closer to yours until the back of your scalp hits the soft bed, and you’re more than content to simply lie there snogging him but you are, in fact, running out of air.

As though Harry senses your need to breathe he pulls his lips from yours, inhaling a soft breath as the two of you suck in air. Just as you push your head forward to kiss him once more he’s sliding down your body - lips land and suckle on your collarbone, tongue tracing a thin trail down the top of your chest until they can focus on your nipples. He doesn’t spend too long there (at least, less than you’d been expecting) but his lips close around your right peaked nipple, tongue flicking up against the bud and your chest arches up into his mouth with a breathy groan, leg muscles tensing where they’re still draped around his torso. His other hand moves to the side of your chest he isn’t sucking at, pinching your nipple between his two fingers, and you drop your head back against the mattress with a pathetic whimper.

“Look at me,” Harry says, then, voice muffled and riddled with lust. When you don’t oblige immediately his hand moves off your tits, grabbing at the piece of tinsel tied around your neck, and he tugs harshly - you jerk your head up, grip tightening in his curls, and he moans against your chest. “Fuck, baby - fuck -”

He’s moving further down your body before you have time to process it, leaving one last lingering smack to your nipples that has your chest jutting upward, fingernails digging into the back of his scalp. Traveling further down your body your legs drop from being around his waist - he pointedly grabs at your chins, tugging them over his shoulders, and there’s no formalities or warnings when he buries his head between your thighs like he’s fucking starving for it.

A torn moan rips through your body at the sensation as Harry’s tongue flicks over your clit, his palms pressing to your inner thighs to keep them spread just enough for his head to fit between. His curls tickle your skin as his tongue slides between your folds, nose nudging against your clit with every lap of your cunt and you cry out involuntarily - it’s like an instinct for you to reach down, fingers carding through his hair before hooking in the strands, tugging at his hair. He grunts into your pussy and the noise reverberates through your body like a lightning bolt of pleasure that rolls through you like a wave. Your muscles quake and your legs shiver and Harry doesn’t let up.

“Jesus - fuck,” you moan, eyes squeezing shut as your head drops against the bed. The taut muscles in your legs are already beginning to ache as Harry pushes them apart, ankles crossed at the nape of his neck, and his tongue slips into your dripping hole, flexed and thrusting in and out in rapid pace. “Fuck, Harry!”

He mumbles something incoherent - you can’t make out any of the words except for the way they feel against your cunt, lips brushing against your clit as he speaks - but you gather the meaning when he reaches up, letting one of your thighs drop of their own accord, and his hand hooks around the piece of tinsel and pulls. You snap your head up involuntarily, tinsel pulling tight against your throat until you can hardly get a breath out and your eyes focus on his head between your legs. 

Your stomach turns in your abdomen when your eyes meet his, his gaze focused on you like the room only exists within you - like you’re the only thing worthy of laying his eyes on and perhaps that’s true in the moment, and you wholeheartedly return the sentiment. No matter how many times he does this you don’t reckon you’ll ever get over it, the sight and feeling and the moans he releases against your soaked folds as he sucks your clit into his mouth, wet sounds mixing with his own soft sounds of pleasure. He loves this like you do and, fuck, isn’t that just the most attractive thing in the world?

You’re beginning to feel pressure build inside your lower stomach, threatening to topple you over the edge, when your boyfriend pulls away. He leaves one last smacking kiss to your pulsing clit before pushing himself to stand, your legs falling from around his shoulders onto the bed, and his hand still holds a tight grasp onto the lowly piece of tinsel, the decoration beginning to fray with the force of him pulling it.

“Harry -” you whine, pushing yourself to sit up on your elbows as your legs quiver pathetically. Your face is hot and the warmth is beginning to spread to every crevice of your body as your building orgasm gradually dissipates until there’s nothing left for you to grasp onto except for the empty feeling of your pussy. “Come on, Har, was so close -”

“Said you liked t’be punished, hmm?”

You squeeze your eyes shut as Harry begins tugging open the zipper of his pants, and even when you aren’t looking at him you can practically see the smug smile decorating his features. When you open your eyes and focus your gaze back on him you’re proven more than correct, cocky grin overtaking his face as his pants are shoved halfway down his thighs. “Thought you were gonna spank me.” “I can do tha’ too -”

Your response dies in your throat as Harry reaches down, hand on either side of your waist as he flips you over onto your stomach, knees and elbows digging into the soft comforter and ass in the air. Embarrassment floods your neck, creeping up to your face but you hardly have time to even feel the humiliation burning inside of you - you’re too preoccupied with your soaked arousal dripping down your thighs mingled with the way Harry pushes his hips forward, boxer covered bulge grinding against your cunt.

There’s a hand on the front of your throat before it slides down to the piece of tinsel, tugging it around until the knot is at the back of your neck, and he pulls on the makeshift tie experimentally. The motion pulls your head up as though he’d tugged on your hair and you hear him hiss in enjoyment at the sight. You’ve just begun to turn your head to the side to see what the hell is taking him so long to finally fuck you but just as you catch sight of him in your peripheral vision you feel the bulbous tip of his cock sliding up and down your folds -

You push your hips back against his and without a second to spare a hand slaps down on your ass, the crack reverberating throughout the room like a whip, and you drop your face into the mattress with a shocked yelp. Harry’s gentle, though, smoothing his palm over the skin of your ass that’s already beginning to feel sore with the smack, humming softly beneath his breath as though you’re doing just about anything else than this.

“Don’t be greedy,” he tells you, fingernails scratching lightly against your skin before both hands land on your ass - he holds your hips steady, your legs trembling with your desire. Within just another moment he’s pushed his hips against yours, cock burying inside of you in one fell swoop, leaving hardly enough time to even catch your bearings before you’re being filled to the fucking brim.

Your mouth opens and closes in a pathetic cry into the mattress, squeezing at the comforter in your tight grasp as Harry’s hips press against your ass, his hands digging bruises into the sides of your hips. His choked grunt and hiss of ‘shit’ goes virtually unheard as you clench tight around his dick, feeling your cunt flutter pathetically in its need. Harry gives you but a moment to adjust, unmoving against your backside, before he pulls out, tip lingering between your folds before he pushes back in. And, normally, perhaps there would be a longer grace period for you to adjust to his size but you don’t want that grace period and you know he doesn’t want to give it to you, not now, not when you’re both so needy for it it’s all you can think of.

His pace is unforgiving from the jump, hips slamming against yours so hard that the smacking sound fills the room, skin slapping skin and making your vision go fuzzy and your ears fucking ring with the noise of it. Whatever discomfort had lingered from the first thrust melts away within moments to wave after wave of pleasure, crashing over your body with a nearly malevolent nature, not giving you a single moment to catch your breath before there’s another - and another - and another - and you hold onto the comforter like it’s your lifeline.

“Oh my god,” you exhale, the words mixed with a moan and hardly even audible against the cacophony of various noises that fills the room - the sounds of your wetness mixing together and his hips slapping into yours and his deep grunts is like music to your ears and you hardly want to say anything for fear of disrupting it, but you can’t hold in your moans any longer. They tear out of your throat into the air of your bedroom, eyes squeezing shut in ecstasy as Harry lands another smack to the globes of your ass, one right after the other, until you can already feel your orgasm building back inside of you where it had been disrupted before.

“Fuck,” and you wish you could see Harry’s face right now. How he’s probably gritting his teeth, skin read and shiny with sweat as he pounds into you, and his curls are likely pressed to his forehead, veins bulging and breathing heavy. “Fuck! Feels so - so fuckin’ tight, baby -”

You can’t say much else except for a variety of drawn out moaning curses mixed with his name on your lips like a mantra, pressing your cheek into the mattress, vision blurred and mouth open in a permanent silent scream. There’s a tug at the tinsel tied tight around your neck and you moan out at the breath leaving your throat, turning your head to the side and there, in the corner of your vision, you can see Harry, gripping the tinsel like a vise.

Your pussy clenches around him, body rocking back and forth as his cock slams into you, pushing you closer to the edge with every full thrust, tinsel snapping against your neck and momentarily cutting off your breathing again and again in a way that only makes your impending orgasm seem more imminent.

At one point - whether it’s been five minutes or twenty, you can’t be sure - Harry leans forward, sweaty chest pressed to your back and you can feel the billowing fabric of his shirt where you hadn’t finished taking it off completely. The hand not holding onto the piece of tinsel reaches around your body, palm pressed over your lower stomach, and he’s hardly pressed two fingers to your clit when you’re coming over the edge. The ball of pleasure unfurls in your stomach humiliatingly fast, only furthered when he pinches the sensitive nub between his fingers, holding out your orgasm as it rolls through you.

“Fuck!”

Your legs tremble and then drop - it’s only his arm, wrapped around your body, that keeps you up. It rages through you, eyes squeezing shut and cunt fluttering and your vision rings. It’s white hot pleasure rolling across your desperate body, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, and every muscle in your body tenses with the resistance of trying not to fall apart beneath him, elbows giving out beneath you until your chest is pressed against the comforter. You lie there - rather uselessly, truthfully - and Harry keeps going, cock pounding into your cunt even when your mouth opens in a cry, when your eyes roll back in your head, and his fingers work on your clit in absolute tandem with his pace.

“M’so close,” Harry grunts though he needn’t have. You can feel it, all the signs that he’s so close you’re sure he can fucking taste it at this point, waiting for the inevitable release he’ll bury into your cunt. “So close, baby, gonna fuckin’ cum in you, hmm?” You nod, the movement a mere weak jerk of your head, but it satiates Harry anyway. You can already feel another one building in your stomach with every asynchronous rubbing of his fingers on your clit, overstimulated and already worn out but, fuck, you want to cum again and you want him to cum and if this wasn’t the best idea you’ve ever had, you’re not sure what is.

“Want me t’cum in you?” You’re not sure how he can even speak because you find it difficult to even think but he’s always been into dirty talk, hissing in your ear while he’s balls deep even if he knows you can’t reply. “Tell me.”

You moan weakly, pushing your hips back against his and he lets go of the tinsel to deliver another smack to your ass, one that makes you sob out, the pain morphing into pleasure that shoots directly into your clit. It’s a second of relief on your throat before he grabs the tinsel again, and you’re more than thankful for the pressure returning to your neck, cutting off your breathing just enough to have you heaving. 

A harsh tug, and your resulting moan is practically a shout. “Tell me!” “Please!” The word is strangled and he lightens his grip on the tinsel, giving you just enough air to moan out. “Please, Har - please -”

You push your head forward, tightening the tinsel against your throat, and Harry picks up exactly what you put down - returns to his previous grip on the decoration, and you let out a choked groan at the pressure.

“Cum for me,” he tells you, then, pressing his fingers down harder on your clit, and your legs tighten at the sensation. “Cum with me, now, cum -”

Perhaps you’d been yearning internally for his permission - not that you’d needed it before - but there’s something entirely erotic about hearing him order you to cum and it’s all you can do to oblige. The second one is larger than the first, legs giving out when Harry pulls his arm back from being wrapped around your body and you collapse onto the bed. He goes down with you, chest pressed fully to your back, hips pistoning in and out of your worn pussy until they stutter and then stop, pressed taut to yours, and it’s your cunt weakly fluttering around him that has him coming over the edge with you.

His groans are like music to your ears, mouthed pressed just below your ear, forearms pressed on either side of your head as he releases the tinsel, letting it flutter against the bed beside you. Ribbons of cum shoot inside of you, warmth only prolonging your own release and after a moment the only noise that fills the air is the pair of you panting for breath.

Harry lifts his head, then, where it had dropped against your shoulder, and you have a moment of cool air against your upper back before he’s leaning down, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. A lazy smile spreads across your face as he tracks kisses down and across your shoulder blades and your neck, curls brushing your skin. Eventually he rolls off of you, softened cock slipping out of your folds and you preen at the sudden emptiness - your legs are sore and your throat is sore, but you roll onto your back anyway, chest heaving.

It takes a couple of minutes for the two of you to arrange yourselves - Harry, leaning against the headboard, and you, cheek pressed to his chest as his fingers trace through your air - and, for a moment, you say nothing. It’s more comfortable than expected and you wonder, perhaps, if Harry fell asleep.

To test your theory, you hum softly, fingers tip-tapping against his sweaty chest, foot stroking up and down his calf. “Merry Christmas, Har.”

“Think we have a few more days ‘till that.”

You grin, drumming your fingernails against his skin, and you tilt your head up to look at him, eyebrow arched. “Hope you have a gift half as good as the one I gave.”

“Well, m’gift has nothing t’do with being naked - maybe y’won’t like it.”

You roll your eyes, smacking his chest lightly, and your boyfriend barks out a laugh. “‘Course I will! And, for the record, I did get you something else that has nothing to do with me being naked.”

Harry ducks his head down, lips pressing to the crown of your head and you can’t keep up your faux annoyed facade for much longer, smile spreading across his face. “I’m sure I’ll prefer this,” Harry says, and - well - he may be right.

[worminstuff]

Seethe pt.1

c!techno x reader

warnings: v aggressive boy much angst barely any happy

word count: like 1k

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

You know the feeling you get when hearing the sound of nails on chalkboards? Not the sound itself, but the feeling you get from it. That would perfectly describe how you were feeling in this moment.

“I'm not even going to bother...Techno will be home soon.” Phils harsh gaze was strong and prominent but you couldn't bring yourself to match it.

Your eyes got wide, “does he-”

“He knows, y/n. If you think I'm mad..you're about to experience a rude awakening.”

Before you could even process what he meant, the front door of the little snowy house hit the inside wall. Surprisingly still attached to its hinges.

You had never seen anything more terrifying in your life than the sight before you. More terrifying than the situation you'd gotten yourself in for them to be this mad.

The day prior had been normal, until you saw Ranboo. You both carried a conversation as normal until Ranboo mentioned how Tubbo had done a sort of “testing” on him. You became outraged and took it upon yourself to make a trip through l’manburg and the smp to Tubbo's new land. 

This was very clearly forbidden by techno, you two were a duo and you were heavily associated with him. So everyone that had it out for techno, had it out for you. 

Techno made it very clear early on you weren't allowed under any circumstances near those lands. He was as protective over you as a mother to a new born baby.

The only sound heard in the room at the moment were creaks from the floor board and, very harsh, angry breathing. 

You weren't going to look at him..until you did. His long pink hair was tied into a loose ponytail around his shoulder blades, but it was very messy now. Small strands having fallen out to frame his face, as well as stick up wildly. His white button up was slightly untucked, and the top two buttons were popped. His pants were even slightly untucked from his boots. He was a true mess.

He closed his eyes tightly, before muttering words to the blond man a foot in front of him, “Out. Now.”

Phil quickly obliged, scurrying past techno and out the house. He wasn't one to want to be around for the shit storm that was about to happen.

Techno took a very deep breath and opened his eyes. 

You had only ever seen his eyes like this once. After the war between pogtopia and l’manburg while he summoned withers, doers of destruction all in his hands.

Tears were already pricking your eyes.

“You…” he paused for a moment. He took a step forward and grabbed the side of the door, slamming it back closed. He didn't flinch the way you did.

“Tell me exactly. What you did. I want to hear every single thing, come out of that stupid mouth of yours. Do you hear me?!” his hand slammed onto the table beside him.

You bit your lip harshly and closed your eyes.

“I asked you a question, y/n! Answer me!” he slammed the table again. He was taunting you.

You shuddered and held your own hand. You took a shuddery deep breath as tears flowed at a rapid pace, “th-they tri-tried to-to” you cut yourself off with a chocked sob.

Techno took another deep breath. He knew he shouldn't have yelled, he knows very well what type of person you were. But he hasn't been this enraged for so long, he wasn't even as mad at you so much as he was mad at Tubbo and Quackity, who were the ones you ran into.

Quackity, the one most out for blood when it came to Techno, unluckily was one of the only people you'd run into.

Quackity had seen you while you passed by the ruble that used to be l’manburg, and he was instantly on your tail with a sword in hand.

He didn't intend to kill you, only capture you as ransom for Techno's will. Obviously he didn't succeed, but he managed to hurt you badly in the process of trying.

You had a large gash running all the way down your arm, you had a cut down your cheek and your hands were covered in cuts and blood.

“And for the boy?! You'd defy every single rule I've given you, to protect you! For that damn kid!” his fists balled up. He wanted to rip Ranboo a new one.

“He didn't deserve what they did! He's only a boy, Techno!” you raised your voice now. 

Techno's eyes narrowed dangerously and you returned to your cowering state. You had never dared to yell back at him like that. He wasn't fond of it one bit.

“What the hell is wrong with you.” disappointment seeped through his teeth. “You went to the home of everyone that is out for our blood, you were gone for an entire day! Yet you had no mind to mention to anyone where you'd gone or why! How genuinely stupid can you be?!” he pressed his palms to his forehead.

“I've worked so hard, to create a place safe for both of us, especially you! And this is what you do?! Huh, y/n?! Do you even care?!” his voice cracked.

“Of course I do!” your voice was hoarse, you were going to lose your voice for sure.

His mind was crawling with thoughts that were driving him mad. Thoughts that were suggesting things he would never want to do. 

He wanted to yell at you every angry feeling he's had in the past ten hours. If you weren't so much smaller than him and sweeter, he would have punched you square in the face.

He spends so much time and energy constantly worrying about what everyone is planning or possibly doing, so nothing happens to you. So you're safe and happy, so you don't have to worry about a single thing.

He loathed you at this moment. 

In one quick motion he pulled you by your non hurt forearm and pressed you to his chest, cradling you in his arms. He heaved in a breath, blocking himself from the voices littering his mind.

He pressed his nose to your hair as you shook and cried.

“I hate you..so goddamn much. I will always protect you, and I will always love you.” he ran a soft hand down your back. “But if you ever..and I mean ever do this again.” his teeth were clenched as he seethed his words out.

 “I will not be as nice as I was this time. I won't hold back the way I have.”

[spideymarvelws]

could you do like a dom wanda and peter x reader smut 😳

my bi ass is screaming🥵also this is my first time writing a threesome and smut for a female character so im sorry if things are a bit iffy

Main Masterlist / Add Yourself To My Taglist

Warnings : SMUT! (aged up-dom!peter, dom!wanda, sub!reader, bondage, choking, degrading, oral[fem rec], innocence kink? master kink towards the end, slapping, spitting kink, obsessive behaviour)

Word Count : 2.0k

Pretty Little Thing

Peter Parker x Fem!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

“She’s a pretty one isn’t she?” Wanda slurred, looking down at your kneeling form on the floor. Your back was slouched, chest rising up and down with heavy breaths after Peter finally released your mouth from around his cock. It was a pleasing sight, seeing you so fucked out and vulnerable, your eyes practically begging for more even though your body was so worn. Even with your hands webbed behind your back, you managed to shuffle forward just a little on your knees, chasing after his member like a desperate whore.

“The most beautiful thing in the world.” Peter cooed, letting the pads of his fingers travel down the side of your messy face, lightly scoffing when you nudged your cheek into his palm, “Needy thing too.”

Wanda laughed, the humiliation sending a wave of arousal to your neglected heat. You wanted to talk, to beg for them to do something, anything. But the red ring of magic around your throat contracted every time the thought of opening your mouth crossed your mind. Unless it was for Peter’s cock or Wanda’s fingers.

“Do you want to speak kitten?” Wanda leaned down, her face hovering over yours, reading your mind for all the dirty thoughts running through it. All focus from Peter’s touch left your head, moving to her devious face. She glowed under the dim light of the room, bringing out her dark red lipstick and flashing red eyes.

You nodded desperately, whimpering when her thumb made contact with your cheek, moving to the corner of your lips and swiping off the mixture of cum and spit from your skin. She pushed it into your mouth and you took it without complaint, enjoying the taste bursting onto your tongue.

“Who knew you were such a cum slut,” Peter groaned, pulling your head back by your hair so he could get a good look at your face.

“And we can’t have out little cock slave talking now can we?” she fake pouted, grabbing your jaw tightly between her fingers, moving it around like you were a toy being marvelled at, “But I guess we could make you cum, how does that sound kitten?”

You vigorously nodded your head up and down, the rest of your body bouncing like a bunny. A red aura formed around you as you were lifted up from the ground, landing softly on the mattress with your face pressed against the cold pillows and your ass in the air.

“How- How do you do that?” you heard Peter whisper, feeling his eyes move across your exposed body.

“Really?” Wanda responded, accent thick and heavy, “I nearly defeated Thanos by myself and you ask that now?”

“Well we weren’t about to fuck Thanos so I wasn’t really that interested.” his hand made contact with your ass, squeezing your cheeks when you let out a small mewl.

“Do you always think with your dick Peter?” Wanda went to slap his hand off but he was quick enough to pull it away, landing another blow on your bum.

Peter ignored her question, instead letting his fingers trail up the arch of your back, the warmth that contrasting with your cold skin sent shivers up your body. But the comfort was shortly enjoyed when he grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you up against his shoulder and placing a quick peck to the side of your forehead.

Wanda rolled her eyes at the brunette’s actions, kissing the spot she hit tenderly, “Sorry kitten.”

“Don’t apologize for something she obviously enjoyed,” Peter scoffed, reaching down and swiping his fingers along your wet pussy, smirking when your wetness dripped down his thick digits, “Maybe a little too much... huh princess?”

You only whined in response, sticking out your tongue when he hovered his drenched fingered over your mouth. He slid them in slowly, letting your taste linger in the back of your throat. He couldn’t help but imagine his cock instead, just like you were moments ago. So obedient, taking it how slow or fast he was giving it to you.

Peter couldn’t wait to fuck your tight little cunt, to use it like his own personal fuck doll. It was his fantasy ever since he saw you walk into the lab with Steve, introduced as the new secretary to the avengers, dressed in the most innocent black skirt that hugged your ass perfectly and baby pink button up. 

But it was Wanda’s fantasy too.

“Hey!” he exclaimed when he was forced off your body. Before you fell back against the sheets, you were raised once again in the air by Wanda’s magic, this time placed gently down on your back. The webs around your wrists disappeared, your arms quickly raised and put against the headboard, your thighs spread open, leaving you completely vulnerable. 

“Don’t forget she’s ours to share.” Wanda smiled sweetly, wrapping her arms around the base of your thighs, bringing her face close to your pussy, “So if you want to be useful, web her up again.”

She didn’t wait for an answer, licking a bold stipe up the length of your sex with her tongue. You let out a loud whine from the back of your throat, trying your best not to scream at the contact. But Wanda didn’t like that you were holding back, she wanted you to scream under her pleasure, she wanted you begging for her, shouting her name for the entire building to know that you were hers.

And Peter’s too she guessed.

To lost in the pleasure, you didn’t notice when Peter webbed your hands once again until you frantically tugged at the retrains, whining and moaning when you couldn’t do anything but take and take until you couldn’t anymore. You wanted nothing more than to run your hands through Wanda’s perfect red hair or grab onto Peter’s wrist when he wrapped his fingers around your neck. But you couldn’t, you weren’t allowed and you accepted that quickly.

Especially when you enjoyed being used by the two avengers so much, to the point of pure insanity.

“Taste so good kitten,” Wanda mumbled into your pussy, the vibration of her voice sending shocks up your body. You jerked your hips against her face, desperate for more. She was quick to push them back against the sheets with the flick of her wrist, gently sucking your clit before letting the bud go with a pop, flicking it with her tongue.

You felt something flick of your nipple at the same time, a warm hand landing on the sensitive skin, drawing your attention to your chest. Peter looked up at you with dark eyes, blocking you from seeing Wanda but giving you an equally arousing view. 

His lips latched on to your left bud, sucking and swirling his tongue expertly while playing with your right breast. The combination of the pleasure was enough to bring you closer and closer your your high, climbing and climbing until you couldn’t take it anymore

“Wanda! Peter! I’m gonna- i’m gonna-” you threw your had back when Peter decided to lightly bit your nipple, the hero snickering when he cut off your sentence. Wanda chuckled as well, letting her digits roam over your gushing hole before slipping two of them in easily, drawing out a scream from your body.

“You’re going to what princess?” Peter teased, kissing up the middle of your chest and neck, sucking the tissue and creating his own mark, branding you as his.

“Do you want to cum kitten? Do you want to cum all over my fingers like a good little whore.” Wanda muttered but loud enough for you to hear over Peter working on your neck.

“Yes Wanda, please! Please let me cum! Please! Please! Please!” you cried, your thighs shaking from holding it in for so long. Even if they never demanded you to ask for permission, something told you that that’s what they would’ve wanted.

“Then go ahead kitten,” she whispered, quickening her fingers to an impossible pace, plunging them in and out of you, hitting all the right places over and over again, “Let go.”

You wasted no time, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave with the simple command. Your body went into overdrive, trying to move away when Wanda continued her assault on your fucked out pussy, only slowing down when she knew you rode it out fully.

Peter swallowed your whimpers, pressing his lips against yours, moving them slowly to calm you down from such an intense moment. You melted into the kiss, whimpering with every breath you took until they lessened into small exhales.

While Peters hands stayed on each side of your cheek, Wanda’s began moving hers up your body, soothing you with her touch. As her palm moved up your form, it was like an instant calm washed over you, letting you fully relax into the cloud like sheets.

“Thank you,” you whispered when Peter pulled back, letting you finally look up to the two sets of eyes peering down at you, “Thank you.”

Wanda smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead, swiping some of the hair that covered the now sweaty skin.

“Anything for you kitten,” she said, sending a small glare to Peter when he lightly shoved her to kiss your neck once again, directly over the mark he made earlier. She was ready to get petty but then she remembered the art piece she made between your thighs and let the hero have his moment.

“You did so well Y/n,” she smiled, kissing your nose sweetly, “But you know the night is far from over right?”

You nodded lazily, to lost in the feeling of Peter’s lips to fully process your words. So she grabbed your jaw, forcing your eyes on hers.

“Did you forget that you spoke out of turn kitten? I never gave you permission to do that,” Peter laughed harshly into your neck, bitting the skin to get a yelp out of your mouth as Wanda continued, “But I was nice, I let you cum all over the fucking bed like the little whore you are. Even Peter was kind enough to do his own work on you, such a generous boy isn’t he?”

Peter grumbled at Wanda’s words, biting your neck once again in retaliation. He liked drawing out noises from you, knowing that it was because of him. He couldn’t wait to dive in your pussy, owning it as his even if it fully wasn’t. As long as his name was screamed from your mouth he would be satisfied.

“You’re in for a long week kitten,” she tutted, opening the closet with a little wiggle of her fingers, pulling out her strap-on and resting it at the edge of the bed, letting your eyes linger on the toy, “A very, very long week.”

You whimpered, thoughts of Wanda fucking you with the rubber. Maybe she could take you from behind while Peter fucked your face or maybe the opposite way around. And while you knew it would never happen judging by the competitiveness between the two, you couldn't help but let your mind run to the both of them enjoying the toy, leaving you tied to the bed, helpless and forced to watch them pleasure each other.

The thought sounded like a dream.

“And Y/n?” Wanda’s voice broke you out of your fantasy.

You squeaked.

“My name isn’t Wanda anymore, neither is Peter’s,”

Her eyes flashed red, the soft persona she showed only seconds ago completely gone. She squeezed your jaw open, spitting directly into your mouth, tilting your head back delicately and watching as you swallowed.

“We’re your Masters now princess,” Peter said lowly into your ear, reaching down to play with your sensitive heat, “And I think it’s time you address us as such.”

...

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[lyallblacklupin]

Hey. I don't know if you are still taking prompts... but if so, I may have a challenge for you. 😉

Remus has to stay in the hospital wing for longer than usual. Sirius is secretly dating Remus and can't stand being away even though Madame Pomfrey says no visitors.

Thank you for such a cute prompt. I hope I have written just like you wanted. <333 Happy Reading! Stay Magical!

Rating: Teens and Up Audience.

The night was befalling as the walls of Hospital Wing started darkening, and the torches around the room ignited flames automatically with a thud. The room is filled with utter silence of the unoccupied beds with Remus Lupin being an exception, laying exasperatedly awake with bandages wrapped around his left leg. His stomach growled but it was the least he cared about because of the aching on the tips of his fingers and toes as his chest was in a constant state of agitation. He wanted something. No, he was craving for someone. He couldn’t stop his brain from the race of unwanted thoughts.

What if he doesn’t want me anymore?

What if he has realized that I’m not worth dating?

What if he is better off with my absence?

Suddenly, his thoughts came to a halt when his senses heightened with someone’s fastidious and highly familiar presence. Remus didn’t even have to look to recognize because it was none other than Madam Pomfrey. He loved her but not momentarily—infact not from the past five days who had strictly banned any visitors since his and Sirius’ fight. Speaking of, he shut his eyes as the memory enrolled in his mind all over for the hundredth time.

“I could have killed you!”

“But you almost killed yourself!” Yelled the boy who Remus was in love with.

“That is the last thing to be worrying—“ But he was not finished when the boy lunged at him and yanked him by his fists clutching his hospital dress, bringing him eye to eye and nose to nose as he growled, “Don’t you ever fucking say that. If you don’t care a shit about yourself then at least care about me! Us! But you don’t! You don’t care about us! Fuck you, Lupin!”

Remus’ heart was hammering in his chest, the pain of his broken leg was long forgotten. The tears glistened in the boy’s hard eyes. And before he could lift him his hand to hold his jaw, to soften the clenched face, to wipe his hurt away, Madam Pomfrey burst inside with her raging thunder.

“Mr. Black! Hands off this instant! How dare you bully a patient like that!? And within the Hospital Wing!” And he loosened his grasp which left Remus with an empty feeling in his chest. Even if he was being held brutally, he didn’t care because he was held by the foremost person in his life. The person he would never wish to leave.

“He’s my—“ He tried but his voice was a whimper in comparison to Madam Pomfrey’s.

“A week’s detention Mr. Black for scaring my patient like that! None of your friends will ever visit the Hospital Wing! Now off you go before I take away the house points!”

He gave Remus one last look of misery, tears still swimming in his heaven-made silver eyes, and scurried away from the hospital.

Remus numbly watched Pomfrey re-bandage his wounds. He suddenly felt so despondent and lonely after rethinking everything. He had hurt his favorite person in the world. And all that person had done was the care and love him with his deepest sincerity. He also knew that his lycanthropy had always been on his mind that even led him to convince the rest of his friends to become Animagis just to protect Remus from hurting himself. And now Remus had done the very same thing by not allowing his pack to accompany him to the last full moon. His broken leg and severe wounds were the aftermaths of his isolated transformation

He didn’t want to admit that he regretted his decision because deep down inside he had been unbound from the usual fretfulness of hurting his friends. He’d been better off hurting himself than hurt them, especially Sirius Black.

Now, it had been five days and Remus had not seen him. Neither James nor Peter.

“Ma’am?” He didn’t realize he had called her before she looked at him in question while applying the salve on the half-healed wound. He hissed in pain but asked anyway, “When am I getting discharged from this bed and these walls?” The bitterness cut through his voice sharply which made Pomfrey look up in surprise.

“Well, Remus. I expect to call me Poppy instead of Ma’am after five years I’ve been treating you.” Remus suddenly felt hot with embarrassment, “And it will take few more days until your walk starts, and then you’ll be well enough to join your classes and friends.”

The way she spoke, Remus felt like he had centuries to wait. He flopped down on his bed again with disappointment, the hollowness in his chest created a bigger void. A Sirius Black void. He needed it to be filled by that very person. The longing was more than Remus expected, intense enough to cause burning in his eyes as his throat began to constrict gradually, tightening his chest. He held himself until his throat had turned thorny. He let out a shaky breath and tears spilled down his temple, founding their place in his already messy hair. He cried silently. He ached and ached until sleep drifted him away.

Even in his dreams, he saw dark hair rippling like the black sea, shiny grey eyes like silver orbs, and fair skin like snow accompanied with pink flushes on the dips of the body. And then he saw a hand reaching out to him and just as he tried to grasp it, the hand flew away with a burning brush on his arm. The sensation was warm enough to jerk him from his unconsciousness. Remus’ eyes opened up to the same ceilings of the hospital wings. The room was still inky blue. He saw his dinner tray on the nightstand in which the food had gotten cold and dry. He immediately touched his left arm where the same sensation was tingling his skin. Or maybe he just felt it in reality? But no one was there. Remus was alone and cold.

He tried closing his eyes again, feeling no appetite at all, but he sensed a faint noise of rustle. He ignored it before it came back again with a feeling of fingers brushing his arm again. He sat up abruptly, clutching his sheets to his chest. His eyes were scanning the room desperately when—

“Moony?” Remus screamed when he saw Sirius’ head appear in the mid-air. Sirius rush ahead to put his hand on his mouth, “Shh! Please! I don’t want to get more detentions, Moony!”

It was all too much to process; Sirius appearing like a genie with no body—before he pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, and Sirius’ warm and sweaty hand on Remus’ mouth, and most importantly, Sirius was here in front of him after five fucking days. He removed his hand once Remus calmed down.

“Look, Moony, I’m sorry—“ He never got to the end of it because Remus shoved Sirius in his embrace. The embrace that was yearning for Sirius only. He thought he might have thrown away anyone if they had tried hugging him before his boyfriend. Remus squeezed him impossibly closer and tighter. He was clutching him like a lifeline. He had his face nuzzled in Sirius’ chest. His fragile arms were strongly wrapped around Sirius’ torso. He was relishing the scent, the touch, the love, and everything he had missed.

“Fuck, I missed you, Pads.” He grunted in his collarbone, “I was longing for you…”

“I’m here.” Sirius cooed in his ear, pressing a kiss beneath it, “And I’m not going.”

“You’ll have to,” He chuckled, traveling his hands to find Sirius’ and intertwined them both.

“Eventually, yes but don’t ruin the moment, Moony.” Remus was torn between tightening his embrace or pulling away to gaze at Sirius’ face but then he felt the other move away. They parted from their lingering hug, and Sirius delicately held Remus’ face and bent down to kiss him. Remus felt his body was set on fire. They kissed languidly at first until their desires amplified their passion. Sirius dug his knees on the bed while Remus complied by pulling him in his lap. Suddenly, his boyfriend gasped and jerked away.

“Remus! Your leg is broken and—I’m sorry!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s just my calf area. I was not hurt okay?” Remus shushed him, peppering kisses on Sirius’ hands. The other boy nodded but frown still sitting on his face. He sat against him on the bed and Remus didn’t leave his hand. He just wanted them to be touching like an assurance of never parting again. They sat in silence. The flaming torches on the walls had already died out.

“Why did it took you so long?” Remus asked sheepishly, running circles on the outside of Sirius’ palm to make him sure that he was not mad.

“It’s not like I didn’t try,” Sirius spoke softly, “Had to sneak out from James’ hell hound eyes. And the last two days were spent in getting caught by Mrs. Norris. That fucking cat.”

“I love cats, okay? Don’t insult them.” Sirius cocked his eyebrow at him, “Yeah but she is such a pain in the arse.” They giggled. Remus couldn’t avert his eyes from Sirius who was avoiding his gaze, “Last two days, huh? It’s actually been five days. Are you mad at me?”

“Moony, how can I be mad at you?” The gentleness in his voice was powerful enough to cause Remus to feel hot behind his cheeks, “But yes, I admit that I was angry. I thought you didn’t want to see me. I thought that you’d want some space. But then I couldn’t stay away from you for so long. Life has been terrible without you.”

“Life has been terrible without you too, Sirius. I missed you so much. I felt bad the second you left this room. I felt so sorry to hurt you like that—“

“Your pain is my pain, Remus,” Sirius said sternly. His eyes are hard as steel. “You can’t isolate yourself like that. I know you fear hurting us but Moony, can’t you see? You are already hurting us like that. James has been quiet lately and Peter…well, he is just following his pursuit. What I mean is, none of us can see you wounded in hospital for like a week because of us. That we weren’t able to protect you.”

“It’s not your responsibility—“

“It is. You are mine.” Sirius squeezed their already entwined hands. The words were like a gush of affection in Remus’ heart. He was suddenly out of arguments. He smiled at the boy before him who smiled back weakly, “And yes, it’s been only two months since we started dating, but you already feel like my responsibility now.”

Remus arched an eyebrow at his flustered expression, “Wow, that’s quite patriarchal with few amendments since a man is claiming his supremacy on the other man.”

“Wha—you dominate over me all the fucking time!” They broke out in fits of laughter but then immediately clapped their hands on each other’s mouths to keep it down. Funnily, the more they forced themselves to be quiet the more laughter bubbled out of them. Remus suddenly grabbed Sirius by his collar and crashed their lips together. Their giggles were turned muffled until they were silently devouring each other’s mouths. Sirius was now moving from his jawline to his neck, and Remus turned into mush as the warmth began pooling into him. He just wanted to stay like this forever.

Suddenly, they both froze when the sounds of approaching footsteps came from the hall. Sirius lunged down to the floor to grab the invisibility cloak, and suddenly the door swung open.

“Mister Lupin?” McGonagall?

“Professor McGonagall.” Remus’ voice shook.

“I am sorry for barging into the Hospital Wing just like that, but I wanted to ask if Mr. Black might have stopped by here?” Even in the dark room, Remus was able to see the grave creases on her forehead. He gulped and eyed down the floor to found Sirius was nowhere to be seen.

“Umm…No, Professor.” He stammered.

“Well, that lad is one hurricane, isn’t he?” She sighed, “I hope you are recovering well, Remus.” Her voice softened and a hint of a smile passed her face. He nodded and then she was out of the hospital.

After he had made sure that there were no sounds of any footsteps he said, “What did you do now?”

“I came during my detention with McGonagall.” Sirius peeked through the cloak, with his entire body invisible.

“Okay, you look very creepy like that.” He stood, brushing off the dust from his trousers, “Come here, now. I want to relish you till my heart is contented. You are getting more detentions anyway.” He opened his arms for Sirius who fell into them with the goofiest smile on his face.

“You are such a masochist, Moony.”

[thefanficmonster]

Tell Me It’s Not Too Late

(Sequel to Switchblade)

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Heartbreak, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: When is it considered ‘too late’ when it comes to expressing feelings? Is there even a time limit? Is the chance only momentary - is it a second that passes you by with no possibility of returning? All Corpse can do is hope that’s not the case. Cause if it is.....he’d rather not think about that.

Requested - sort of, but not in a typical way. Thank you to all the readers of ‘Switchblade’ that wanted to see the story have an ending that’d lead to a new start. Here it is, guys! Hope it lives up to what you expected. Love you all to the moon and back. 💖💖💖

I end my stream after almost three hours of constant scares. I sigh, slipping the headset off my ears so it’s hanging around my neck. I don’t feel that fulfilling feeling that I’m always met with upon ending a stream. I look at the countless scratches and little holes on the surface of my desk - evidence of the fear and frustration I experience while playing certain games. Not all of them are caused by that, however - Coming home after possibly the most humiliating night of my life, that desk and a few other pieces of furniture suffered my wrath and are now decorated with stab wounds that were a result of uncontrollable rage, hurt, self-hatred and self-pity. It took me a while to put an end to my hazardous, switchblade wielding rampage throughout my house, but the tears didn’t stop until the early morning hours.

I didn’t care that my feelings weren’t reciprocated. That was and is the least of my troubles. The most amount of hurt comes from the fact that I ruined something wonderful for myself. Corpse is the only person I’ve felt this close to all my life and now, due to my own poor decision making, I no longer have him. He no longer wants to be a part of the shit-show that is my life. Especially not now that he knows how messy things get when I show my forever-hidden feelings. I can’t blame him. I know I’d be running for the hills if I were him. He deserves a person who knows what’s going on in their life. Who has themselves and their surroundings figured out. Not someone who has an irregular streaming schedule and catches feelings for her best friend, ruining the friendship altogether in the process.

As I stand up from my chair, accidentally hitting the handle of the switchblade on the edge of my desk. I look down at it and how tightly I’m holding it. I seem to not be able to let go of it. Almost like I see it as my last bit of link to Corpse. The remnants of the connection I felt between us.

Maybe I should return it.

No, that’d be weird. I’d either have to go over there and give it back or send it via mail which is worse. It just feels like a harsh gesture - mailing something so meaningful as though it’s as worthless as the bills people get in the mail. I can’t send it through others, I don’t want anyone else getting involved. The more people know, the more real it is.

I’m aware I’m being both overdramatic and irrational, but you have to understand how much pain I’m in. I can’t guarantee the pain will go away or even lessen if I let this switchblade go, but it’s the only thing I haven’t tried.

Only problem is - I can’t let it go. I can’t find it in me to destroy it or throw it away. A part of me is willing to take the suffering of keeping it just cause it wants to hold on to that little connection it resembles. It’s evidence it existed to begin with. I believe it’s worth the pain. The hurt will go away eventually, but the memories are forever. I’ll look back at the time I had an amazing person such as Corpse to call ‘best friend’ and I’ll have something to prove to myself that it wasn’t a fever dream.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.“ I mumble as I finally uncurl my fingers from around the damn thing and put in down on my desk.

I take the headset off and proceed to head out onto the balcony to light what I call a ‘stress cigarette’. I’m not a regular smoker, but when everything just caves, I prefer to resort to a quick puff rather than grabbing a drink. I can say no to a second cigarette but not to a second drink. That second will then turn into a third and so on. And I don’t trust myself when drunk. I don’t personally know, but I’ve been told I’m rather unpredictable.

For the first few seconds while I’m standing there I don’t notice the pouring rain by some strange miracle. I can only focus on the chill of the breeze and the fresh breath that’s finally entering my lungs. I take a moment to breathe in the cool air before I start mixing it with the cigarette smoke. 

With my eyes closed, I hear more than I feel the rain on me. Storm noises always distract me from the actual storm, they calm me down. However, the sudden loud thunder causes me to open my eyes in a matter of milliseconds. I frown, slightly upset that I didn’t catch glimpse of the lightning that the thunder probably followed.

I’m not upset for too long, though. A lightning flashes right opposite me, creating the most mesmerizing of pattern you can see in the night sky during a storm. It’s so bright, it allows me to see my whole, usually unlit garden perfectly in that second or two it graces the sky. 

Wait

My balcony has a clear view of my entire front yard and all it takes a glance to the left to be able to see the front doorstep. 

Don’t freak yourself out, it’s just a trick of the light

I stay quiet and as still as a statue as I await another flash of lightning, my heart speeding past the point of a healthy pulse and into the realm of a near heart attack. The storm seems to be on my side because maybe a minute later another lightning bolt cuts through the black of the night. 

Sure enough, there’s a person standing outside my front door.

Fuck, what do I do?!

The person doesn’t appear to be moving. They are standing just as still as I am, facing towards the house.

I thank the universe the lights inside the house are off. I turned them off cause I wanted the ultimate scary experience playing that game. The only light is the faint glow of my computer screen which is, thankfully, barely visible. I slowly start backing up towards the sliding glass door, never taking my eyes off the figure that I can just barely make out now that my surroundings have fallen into darkness again. If it weren’t for the lightning I would’ve never been able to see them.

I manage to get back inside, soaked as though I just got out of a pool, without making a single sound. Just to be safe, I shut my monitor off. I grab my phone to use as a flashlight in one hand and the switchblade just finds its way into the other, my fingers curling around it tightly, more on instinct than to use as a weapon. I know I probably won’t be able to stab whoever’s out there.

I tiptoe my way down the stairs where all the lights are also off. I flick the blade out as I hesitantly and shakily make my way to the door to look through the peephole. I let out an unsteady exhale as I look at the the figure who is now standing further away and seems to have one arm in the air, curled at the elbow.

Just as I’m about to pull away from the door to dial 911 another flash of lightning illuminates the yard, the figure along with it. 

Can we go back to it being an intruder?

It’s no intruder, surprisingly - to my dismay. 

I turn my phone’s flash off and reach for the switch next to the door, flicking the light on before opening the door and walking out. 

“I NEARLY STABBED YOU WITH YOUR OWN BLADE!“ I yell in a desperate attempt to be heard over the waterfall of rain.

I can finally see him properly thanks to the light in my hallway. He looks like he hasn’t slept in years. He has his hood up but his black locks are sticking out in every direction from under the soaked material, not being protected from the droplets whatsoever. I read the shock in his eyes, almost like he didn’t know I lived there. He doesn’t make an attempt to approach or walk away from me so we just stand there, in the rain, staring at each other as though it’s the first time we’ve seen one another.

I snap out of the trance he has put me in, shaking my head at the ridiculousness of the situation as I step towards him, grabbing onto his wrist, “Come on, we look like drowned rats.” I don’t give him time to react as I drag him inside, closing the door once we enter. “OK, from the top now: Why were you embracing your inner serial killer on my front porch?” I keep blabbering, diverting my gaze to anything but him. “Fucking hell, I could’ve stabbed you! You could’ve gotten really badly hurt! I -...”

“You know, I wish you stabbed me.“ He finally puts an end to my sorry excuse for frustration, I’m aware I look and sound miserable. His voice drags my eyes straight to his, fixing them there. “I know you can’t kill a cockroach on your own, and I know you most definitely wouldn’t even scratch a person, but I wish you had hurt me. Inflict fifty stab wounds on me and you still won’t hurt me as much as I hurt you.“ His hand swiftly pushes the hood off his head, grabbing onto his drenched locks as an expression of pain paints itself on his face. He’s the one diverting his gaze now, “I know what you mistook my silence for and I want you to get that out of your head.“

I wince at the pang in my chest, barely restraining my hand from flying up to rest over my heart, “Don’t humor me, Corpse! I’m not a child and this is not a game!”

“I’m not humoring you. I’m telling you...“ he makes a step towards me, grabbing hold of my ice cold hands, “I’m telling you I’m an asshole that freezes up when it’s least acceptable. I’m telling you I’m the worst at expressing how I feel. I’m telling you I can’t open foil. But you already knew all that. And you still liked me.“ He breaths in, refilling his lungs before continuing his rant, “I know you can be very chaotic. A real handful. A fucking tornado. But I love you. I love you as every natural disaster you represent. And if you could humor me...“ One of his hands releases mine, coming up to push a strand of hair away from my face, resting his hand on my cheek. “...by giving me one more chance. You always let me try multiple times when I stumble over what I’m trying to say. Can you do that, for me? For us?“

I let out a dramatic sigh, rolling my eyes. “If I say yes will you stop showing up like that on my doorstep?“ Of course, my primal instinct is to act tough and cool when my heart rate is once again going at the speed from back at the balcony. The skin of face and neck is red and burning hot. My eyes are rimmed with tears, I hope he doesn’t notice.

“Yeah. I’ll start coming in through the chimney instead.“ He visibly relaxes, a smile dancing at the corner of his lips. He lifts the hand that’s still holding the switchblade, prying it out of my grasp. “No sharp objects, please.”

He drops it in the pocket of his hoodie, finally leaning down to erase any last bit of doubt I have left. This kiss teaches me a lot of things.

Love isn’t linear - nothing about it is linear. Not falling in nor falling out of it. Feelings aren’t digital or binary - it’s not always as black and white as we might want to believe. Feelings don’t just come and go. They are always present, but it depends on us weather they’re suppressed or expressed. We fear the latter cause we fear vulnerability and change. But we also crave the positive outcome we have a 50% chance of getting. It’s a fifty-fifty game, but here’s the thing: if you never express your feelings it’s a zero-a hundred chance that you won’t receive the outcome you’d like.

I took the fifty over the zero chance and regretted it for a day or two. It gave me closure if nothing more. It let me stand under the spotlight and carry my pride on my shoulders despite the tears in my eyes.

My feelings being reciprocated is just another benefit. But no longer being able to call Corpse ‘best friend’ cause he’s now got a bigger and better title is the positive outcome I have been dreaming of. 

He makes it all worth it. He is worth all of it. 

And if I had to go through all that again, you can bet your ass I would.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze @divine-artemis

[petiteyoon]

Goose bumps — myg [M]

ATTENTION: if you’re a minor and/or uncomfortable with mature themes please don’t read... or do it, but I warned you.

Pairing: Yoongi x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, smut

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, not-so-innocent baths in a lake, no pull-out game lmao, kind of sex with a stranger?, cum play, light spanking, slight daddy kink (yg calls himself daddy like o n c e), cum eating, Yoongi is a shy boi at first but gives up easily <3 if you hate being called princess then i’m sorry

Word count: 3k more or less

Of course I am technically ✨L A T E✨ but I guess it was worth it (even if in my country it’s still the 9th) so,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR YOONGO BONGO💜🍊

I’m still getting used to writing those things so let’s pray that there’s nothing wrong here, hope you like it!

As you woke up you silently thanked whoever was up there for having such a sunny morning, compared to the storm you were surprised with the day prior, as you reached the camping site.

The situation at hand was unexpected and quite messy since you were sleeping in your camper with seven boys, five of them scattered on the couch or in the driving seats. But it was more fun that way, you guessed.

You were traveling with your best friends, Namjoon and Jungkook, when you saw five people standing on the side of the road, with their car nearby surrounded by a thin layer of smoke.

Assuming they needed help and since they were directed to the same destination as the three of you, you offered them a hand and brought them to the camping site with you in your camper.

You slowly got off the bed, tiptoeing towards the exit and careful not to step on any hand or foot. You opened the door and hopped down, feeling the fresh grass beneath your feet. Everything around was still quiet, the only sound that could be heard was the sweet chirping of the birds that populated the trees. The area was well covered by tall, green plants and a few sun rays slipped through their leaves, creating puddles of golden light on the ground.

Before cooking yourself something to eat, you went exploring a bit, finding a couple of cute bunnies near the place and beautiful flowers, until, a bit down the path, you found a little entrance that hid a beautiful tiny lake and without a second thought you went in.

It wasn't really deep so you decided to sit on the moss that engulfed the sides and corners of the natural pool.

After contemplating the nature around you, you slipped in the cold water and slightly moved your limbs in order to get used to the low temperature.

The place was well hidden by the plants and trees, only giving you another open spot on the other side, just to admire the mountains nearby and you allowed yourself to relax. Said mountains were clearly visible and they created a stunning landscape, giving you the possibility to clear your eyes from the dull cities full of skyscrapers.

It seemed like the place was settled on another planet. Spots like this were truly a rare sight and deserved to be protected from the rest of the Earth, you thought.

"What are you doing here?"

As you were absorbed in your own world, a deep and groggy voice spoke up, making you snap your head towards the intruder.

Yoongi stood there, standing on the border of the pool and keeping an eye close to you, a veil of curiosity was wrapped around his sleepy voice.

You took a big breath and slumped your shoulders, the brief tension already subsided. "I was just looking around… this place is beautiful" you contemplated, shifting your eyes towards the landscape again. You felt the water ripple and you just assumed that Yoongi slipped in with you.

"It really is" he breathed, the sound reached your ears quicker than you thought. Turning around, the boy was really closer than you imagined, but he didn't seem to notice because his eyes were settled on the rural view as well.

You slightly shifted, tightening your shoulders as goose bumps emerged on your skin. Yoongi sensed your stiffness right away and moved towards you. With his eyebrows bent in a frown, he asked you if you were cold but you quickly shook your head.

The cold wasn’t the cause of your goose bumps, Yoongi was. You were totally feeling at ease, but having him this close was kinda unusual.

Ever since you two met the other day, you observed how his eyes always lingered for a moment on your figure, how he was always out of words and much more shy when you talked to him. Maybe he was really introverted, you assumed.

But while you were thinking about his behaviour, you have to admit that deep down you briefly daydreamed about him being attracted to you, which would be the reason for his behaviour; and if that was the case you were surely flattered about the idea of a cute guy like him feeling that way towards you.

Another couple of minutes passed by in silence, enjoying the company of the other. Yoongi slowly moved towards you, still keeping his hands on the border and his head bent down slightly.

He pressed his lips together, his whole body screamed shyness and you could perfectly feel how nervous he was. You knew he was trying to tell you something but his throat was completely shut, making it difficult to swallow.

That was when you decided to take the matter in your own hands, "Is everything okay Yoongs?" you asked.

The nickname almost made him blush but he just nodded, without opening his mouth. Your question wasn't much of help so you just tried to put him at ease without any words, just resting your head on his shoulder, to see how he would react.

Yoongi felt like the world had come to a stop and as he realized how close you were. He just stood there, eyes automatically fixated on you.

His hands were tingling. He just wanted to hold you tight against him, but he had to control himself. He had been infatuated with you since the second he laid his eyes on you, but he still didn't know you yet.

He just slipped his right arm around your shoulders, finding a comfortable position to look at the landscape. You smiled a little, content with how he was cuddling you. Even if you met him just the other day, he seemed such a sweet guy and you felt as if you wanted to spend as much time as possible with him.

You closed the space between your bodies by inching closer and closer to him, until your face was buried inside his neck. You took a deep breath and your nostrils were flooded by the masculine scent of his cologne and this made you want to pull him towards you and engulf him in a tight hug, just to be blessed by his presence.

These thoughts of him kept racing in your mind and, as if you were possessed by an unknown force, you placed a hand behind his neck and brought him down to your level, suddenly pressing your lips against his.

Maybe you were being reckless but, hell, you wanted to taste those lips so badly.

For a moment he didn't move at all, totally taken off guard; but when the action processed in his head and felt your sweet lips against his, he finally gave in. His fingertips caressed your sides while he moved his lips on yours, enjoying their softness.

Your other hand found its way between his locks and lightly gripped them, earning a small grunt from him.

His chest was flush against yours as he subconsciously pushed your body against the border of the pond. You were trapped and the only thing you could do was wrapping your legs around his waist. After doing so, his body moved even closer to yours, if that was possible. You two were caught by a sudden passion that didn't let you separate from one another.

His tongue stroked your lower lip, asking for entrance. You swiftly opened your mouth and your tongues danced, wrapped around each other. That warm feeling made you feel tingles all over your body as you caressed the back of his head. After what felt like hours, Yoongi finally broke the kiss and looked at you deeply, contemplating what you had just done.

He regained himself and pushed himself off of you, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that" he blubbered, his head bent down again.

You felt your chest tighten for a moment, confused about why he was apologizing. Maybe he didn't want to do that? You were the one that pulled him in at first, maybe he just kissed you so you wouldn't feel rejected.

But as soon as he spoke up again, your doubts were cleared, "don't get me wrong,” he shook his head when he saw your worried expression “you're really beautiful and you seem a kind and sweet person. But I shouldn't have rushed like that" he blushed, rubbing the back of his neck.

You smiled at him, observing his face, and got closer to him once again, "Don't apologize, I enjoyed it" you whispered and licked your lips, "We can do whatever you want to do".

He sighed once he heard your words, still unsure about the situation. He had you on a silver plate and he was mere inches away from a good time or from something that could be deeper, as he let his mind daydream; but still, he didn't know you. Maybe you just wanted to use him for one time, and maybe he would even let you do that. The tension was strong and he couldn't make a decision: he could leave aside his morals for one day, or risk it all and try for something real with you.

Was it really worthy to give in so easily to a stranger? You occupied his mind since he saw you the other day and maybe he could really try and take action on his new feelings.

After thinking about it deeply, he lifted his head and watched you with a slight pained expression "I've known you for just one day, even less, but you already make me go crazy", so he conjoined again your bodies and kissed you.

The tension that built up inside you while waiting for an answer left your soul as soon as you felt his warm presence again against you. You didn't have time to reflect on his confession as you tightly wrapped your arms around his neck, lightly biting his lower lip and tasting him.

He sighed, his breath hot on your lips and you felt his fingertips brush your sides, slipping under your shirt. You unconsciously arched your back, giving him more access to explore your body. His cold hands gripped the flesh where your ribs were, picking you up and placing you on the border, with his hips in between your legs. A small whimper left your mouth as you felt his crotch push against your centre, pressing your nails into his shoulder blades.

His lips slightly turned into a grin, the sweet sound reaching his ears. Your moans were heaven to him and as he secured an arm around your waist, his other hand started to caress your thigh, slowly inching closer and closer towards the hem of your shorts.

Your heart was beating fast against your chest and it was difficult to breathe. His finger slid in your thin shorts that were soaked and clinging to your skin. He gently stroked your sensitive bud, earning another delicious moan from you. A new wave of pleasure washed over you as you felt hot pressure against your clit. He soon reached your entrance, he circled his fingers around it, collecting your arousal and teasing you. You broke the kiss and whimpered again while trying to catch your breath.

Your hips involuntarily pushed towards his hand, wanting just to feel his fingers in you, but before you could express your needs he removed his hand from your shorts and gripped at the hem of the clothing. Immediately taking the hint, you placed your hands on the hard surface and raised your hips, allowing him to take off your pants and underwear together.

His hand returned to its place as he rubbed the wet skin around your entrance, thanks to how wet you were, his finger dipped with ease in your heat, disappearing between your folds. The delicious burn made you cry out his name, throwing your head back, your nails scratching the ground at your sides.

Your hips slightly rolled with the movement of his hand, his face was buried in your neck, leaving wet kisses and bites that will surely leave a mark on your skin. Your hand reached Yoongi's locks, pulling them and making him groan against you, fingers pushing even deeper inside you and stroking your sweet spot.

You felt your orgasm approach quickly, a string of moans and whimpers left your lips. Yoongi's thumb pressed against your clit, circling it harshly and finally bringing you to the edge. Your hand gripped his hair even tighter and you cried out his name, legs shaking as a pang of pleasure exploded in your lower abdomen.

But Yoongi didn't stop, with his lips attached to yours, blocking your screams, he kept pistoning his fingers in and out of you, prolonging your orgasm until your shaky hand gripped his wrist, as you were too sensitive to continue.

He broke the kiss and brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting your sweet cum on his digits, "You taste delicious, princess" he spoke with his deep voice, planting another kiss on your lips.

You smiled at him in your post-orgasm haze, cheeks flushed with droopy eyes. "I should return the favour now, what do you think?" your legs moved closer to him on their own, and you found your hand already making its way towards his tummy.

He took your hand in his, shaking his head "I don't wanna waste time, I want to be buried inside you right now" he claimed, grabbing your arm and spinning you around, trapping you again between the ground and his waist.

You whined at his sudden action, but Yoongi didn't give you any time to understand what was happening as he brought his hand down your butt cheek harshly, a light smack reached your ears.

You moaned at the sudden contact, feeling your plump skin burn under his tight grip, "M-More… please," you cried out for him, feeling an unknown pleasure from what he was doing. You never minded that much, a bit of spanking was always there in your bed activities but Yoongi literally lit up a fire inside of you and you melted every time his palms touched your hot skin.

"Is princess that needy?" you could feel the smug grin in his voice, satisfied with the effect he had on you. You bit hard on your lip and pushed back your butt, nodding fervently. He quickly pulled down his pants, his warm cock now rested heavily against your backside as he stroked your cheeks.

However, instead of giving you what you wanted, he wrapped a hand around himself and pressed his tip in your entrance, without entering fully. You whined again, sick of all his teasing while you squirmed under him, desperate to feel him inside.

He blocked your movements with one hand and bent down towards your ear, growling "Stop being a brat, or else daddy won't give you the fuck that you deserve today" his teeth grazed the shell of your ear, biting it and finally pushing his length fully inside of you.

A loud moan left your throat at the sudden intrusion. Yoongi gave you some time to adjust as he wrapped his arm around your waist, "But for now I will let that pass, I don't wanna play games" as he said this, he began moving his hips. His thrusts weren't fast, but slow, deep and intense, making you feel at every movement that delicious stroke against your walls that almost made you go crazy.

You searched his hand with yours until you found it on your hip, and squeezed it. The tender gesture of holding hands was in stark contrast with the things he was doing to you. While his right hand was occupied with yours, his left one travelled towards your swollen bud, ready to give it again the attention deserved.

As his thrusts sped up, slamming his hips against you, his digits quickly worked their magic on your clit. "Yes…! Yoongi, oh my god," you mewled, the pleasure difficult to bear, "You're so big, it feels too good," you praised him, pushing your head back, trying to meet his thrusts.

You could hear him gasping from time to time, in sync with his dick coming in and out of you. Another wave of pleasure washed over you when you realized how strained he sounded, proud that you were making him feel this way.

His hips stuttered and the pace he was maintaining started to falter. You knew he was near the edge by the small grunts that left his glistening lips with every thrust and you were close as well.

As you finally managed to match with his thrusts, setting a new, hard pace, Yoongi dug his nails into your soft skin, "Fuck princess, you're squeezing me so tight" almost out of breath, he gripped onto you as if his life depended on it.

Another couple of quick, rough thrusts and he found himself slumping over you, whispering your name in a broken moan, right into your ear. You shuddered as you felt his cum coating your velvety walls, milking him as you reached your climax as well for the second time.

As the after waves of the orgasm wouldn't let your legs stop quivering, Yoongi squeezed his arms around you, keeping you close to him as he rested his head on your back, eyes closed and catching his breath. 

You two stood there, without moving for a moment, your limbs slowly relaxing.

"That was amazing" he whispered with a raspy voice, getting off of you and caressing your arms. You smiled to yourself and nodded, agreeing with him without a single word, turning towards him and putting on your long-forgotten shorts.

Yoongi kissed your forehead with a foreign sweetness, enveloping you again in a warm hug. You closed your eyes and buried yourself deep into his chest as your mind slowly came back to reality. You glanced up, staring into his eyes and playing with your nails, you suddenly had many questions swarming inside your head but maybe… it was better not to open your mouth for now.

You suddenly took a look at your hands and noticed how wrinkled they were, you scrunched up your nose and showed your palms to Yoongi. "I think it's better if we get out of here" you pouted and Yoongi nodded, soon following you.

When you returned to the camping site, everyone was awake and eating breakfast. Jimin spotted the two of you first and waved at you, calling for Yoongi. "Where were you, lovebirds? You're totally soaked" he took a close look on you, going inside the camper to take two warm towels and you kindly thanked him.

"We discovered a little pond down there, it's really nice and it's not even that deep," Yoongi explained, sitting on the bench next to Hoseok, with you next to him.

Currently, Jin had just finished cooking breakfast for everyone, while Taehyung already had his nose deep in his precious strawberries. You remembered him mentioning his love for those fruits, and at first you didn't understand his excitement but after he let you try his strawberries… you swear that was the sweetest thing you ever tried.

In front of you sat Jungkook, playing some game on his phone, with Namjoon by his side, who was eyeing you in a weird way. But you didn't mind his behaviour at that moment.

For now you just wanted to eat and enjoy the rest of the day with the boys. You still felt butterflies in your stomach while thinking about what happened at the lake and you were excited to discover what that day would bring to you.

[bisexual-dragon-larryisreal]

POF THORUGH THE HOUSES🔮

1st House POF

You came into this life to be independent without harming or living in disdain of others’ beliefs. Highly competitive, you like the game of challenge and the thrill of the win. But you must win honestly, without cheating or harming others.

Your opposing position is the 7th and you must not become entangled in dependent relationships. You can be loving, supportive, and caring, and loyal without becoming dependent on the love from another for your happiness.

2nd House POF

You must discover what’s really important in life and stick by it. What makes you feel safe, secure, and on solid ground. 2nd house about security and about “things.” You must only have things that reflect the true-you. Think that painting your second cousin created is ugly? Don’t keep it out where you can see it. Be brave. Don’t’ fall into fads and other people’s expectations of what is of value.

You’ve earned luck with money (unless there are difficult aspects to your part of fortune or other planets in the 2nd). Your projects and goals, have to be in keeping with your true values in order for them to be financially successful.

Your opposing position is the 8th house of other people’s money and possessions. The trick to balance here is to discern what is yours from what belongs to others. This also applies to sexual values. Be your own person and, unless it harms others, indulge in your own sexual values.

3rd House POF

Language and words are important and joy comes from understanding how others think and experience the world around them. You strive to understand how relationships work. This helps you with self-clarity. Your earned karma is a talent for understanding the nature of relationships and communication and in sharing your wisdom with others.

Your opposing position is in the 9th house. Here, the pull is to dismiss the consciousness of humans and immerse yourself in spiritual connections. You might get lost in idealism and miss out of the reality that idealism is expressed through the minds of humans. Being a hermit in a cave or an ashram or pulls you away from the people you are meant to teach. Balance of body, mind, and spirit is your soul’s goal.

4h House POF

Your earned karma is about setting down roots, either figuratively or literally. Nourishing the beginnings of life, plants, pets, ideas, projects, and more are where you shine. Building emotional foundations that can stand the test of opposition is important. Know your heart and stay with it.

Your opposing position is the 10th. Learning that building a foundation that can nourish growth takes time. Impatience and wanting results in an instant will undermine your work. Giving up too soon will derail your destined path. Resist these temptations and your life will work smoothly.

5th House POF

Creativity, expanding the world of possibilities, and expression of your inner self is your earned karma. Dreams become realities, living in joy and happiness through your creations are your path to happiness. Whether you express through art, philosophy, music, empowering others, adventure, discovery, or whatever else, you must be creative to fulfill your chosen path.

Your opposing position is the 11th house. This is the house of friends, organizations, and the dreams and wishes of others. Do not be lured into changing your visions for those of others. Stay true to your creativity and be inspired by others without compromising your expression of what brings you joy.

6th House POF

Work and responsibility are your paths to joy. Using your time and energy will and in practical ways brings you fulfillment and satisfaction. You are good at teaching others how to do this, too. You are good at not becoming mired in the messiness of indecision and emotional quandaries. You can systematize and organize in a way that allows you to breathe freely and enjoy life without confusion and unnecessary burdens.

Your opposing position is the 12th house that draws you into the depth of emotions and inner worlds. To successfully work with the depth of human psyche and not become lost in its maze, compassion is needed. Without compassion, you become ineffective in leading a life of systematic organization. To balance the energies of the 6th and 12th, a study of astrology, Qabala, numerology, and such are systematic enough to address both organization and compassion.

7th House POF

With the POF in the 7th, you are happier and more successful in life when you are in a loving, stable relationship. Being in a loving relationship—of any kind—brings you in closer contact with your greater, spiritual consciousness. The more joy you bring to the others in your partnership(s) the more joy you find in yourself.

Your opposing position is in the 1st house of self-identity. Living out of the opposing position alone means you will always be seeking, but not necessarily recognizing the perfect partner. You have trouble finding your true identity because you never truly connect at a deep level to others. You will have a sense of disharmony and no clear purpose. Life feels meaningless and lonely, even when you are with someone.

The balance is to learn how to connect at a deep level with others. Feel what it is like for them. Experience their love for you and your love for them. Know that their needs are as important as yours. Be willing to sacrifice for the happiness of those important to you, knowing that they will do the same for you.

8th House POF

Others will always be there for you. Solutions will always appear when needed. Discovery of self comes through the gifts and blessings from others. Through others, you learn to be flexible, and welcome change and growth. Your curiosity about what makes things work, how others achieve greatness or amazing skills is what drives you to better yourself.

Your opposing position is the 2nd house of belongings, values, and security. If you live out of this position, you will seek happiness through having things and money. You won’t learn from the failures of others and will make the same mistakes over and over. The tug of war between house 8 and house 2 confuses you about what is worth holding on to and what needs to be discarded or released. The 8th house is there to show you everything that needs to be released because it is damaging or has outlived its usefulness. It will bring people into your life to show you the way. This applies to actions, behavior, people, and material possessions. If you don’t heed the call of the 8th house your life will be one of constantly collecting, acquiring, and being fearful of loss.

9th House POF

Truth, knowledge, wisdom, and expansion is your gift here. You seek to understand life beyond the material and mundane. You seek to know Truth. The far corners of the earth call you so you can experience life in its kaleidoscope of color and texture. You commune with nature and the cosmos itself.

The opposing position is the 3rd house of communication. But it is communication without deep understanding. It is often about defending your position and speaking AT someone or preaching, lecturing, commanding. Living from this point, you would tend to exaggerate, create “alternate” truths, express in ways that glorify you.

Balancing the 9th and 3rd, you have a gift of communicating in a powerful and persuasive way because it comes from a place of truth. You visit other lands to know the people and understand their way of living and communicating. You seek communion with the highest spiritual realms. You can become a great leader in the spiritual world and/or in the realm of helping others become empowered.

10th House POF

The gifts from having your POF in the 10th house are often problematic to achieve. It is about fame, being an authority, that is trusted by others, and living life by your own rules. This comes after sustained effort and developing the emotional maturity to handle it. Holding on to childish emotions or a need for adulation is likely to trigger a tumble from high places.

With opposing position in the 4th house, there is a pull to hide from public life because the compassion for the plight of the world can become a crushing responsibility. The balance is to understand what must be done with clear vision and understanding, having compassion without becoming trapped by it.

11th House POF

In this house, you have the gift of being a true visionary, able to look far into the future and see the path that must be taken for the greatest good. Independence from the traps of ordinary life are a strong urge and you carry a magnetic attraction for those who need to find their way.

The opposing position is the 5th house. This causes a restlessness and a feeling that you MUST do something for the world or for a cause. Sharing the burdens of the cause, project, or good works is grudgingly accepted for, if you don’t balance the 11th/5th axis, you always feel that you are the ONLY one who can do the job—that you are the chosen one and need no assistance. The balance is to realize that in involving others in the process, you are helping them in the highest way for their good.

12th House POF

This is the position of the meditator and seeker of inner peace. Discovering the truth of your inner self and the mysteries of the universe brings your greatest joy. The opposing position is the 6th house of duty. Here you might find yourself trapped in having to “do your duty” in the ordinary world and not be able to indulge in your inner work. The balance is to do your duty without identifying with it but realizing that everything can be a tool for inner reflection. The Zen saying, “What do you do before enlightenment? You chop wood and carry water. What do you do after enlightenment? You chop wood and carry water.” fits POF in the 12th house after a balance between the subtle and material world has been achieved.

POF in the Signs

The sign the POF is in and its opposite sign must be combined with the nature of the house where it resides. The signs show how you can balance the karma associated with the house placement of the POF and its opposing sign.

This is also true if you look at your North and South Nodes. The North node represents untapped possibilities (untapped in past lives). It represents emotional treasures you must work to uncover and develop. The North node is your potential in life. The South node shows stasis, stagnation, and resistance to the changes necessary in order to develop the potential of the North node—but that’s another blog.

Aries

You bring with you from past lives, bravery and a pioneering spirit. Aries is a me-first sign and sure of his decisions and beliefs. Libra is a you-first sign and will suppress her own feelings in order to “keep the peace.” Use the Libra’s ability to weigh pros and cons and to see more than one side of a situation, but don’t get caught up in indecision and living by others’ standards.

Taurus

Embrace what is solid and enduring. You bring with you the ability to build a firm foundation for your life. Don’t get trapped in the judgmental, critical, and observer mindset of the opposing sign. Root your mind in honesty, generosity, emotional involvement with love and the beauties of life.

Gemini

Knowledge, communication, and learning are the gifts you bring with you from past lives. The karma is from the opposing sign of Sagittarius that wants to expand, grow, shine, and experience the adventure of life without really understanding it. Sagittarius judges others without understanding them. Wisdom is the balancer of this axis. Learn, understand, and apply it wisely.

Cancer

This is the karma gift of love, nurturing, and deep emotional connections. A life filled with warmth and closeness is important for you. Your opposing sign of Capricorn, tries to pull you into distancing yourself from feelings and being more pragmatic. This is a good balancer if yo don’t deny your karmic nature of tender harmony with life.

Leo

Leo is about leadership, being a source of inspiration to others, and great achievements but needs to be recognized and repaid for their generosity. The opposing sign is Aquarius, the impersonal doer of good works that seeks to help the masses more than individual and shun personal involvement, the limelight and fame. The balancer is to consider both the individual and the masses. Give without requiring praise and return, yet graciously accept it when given.

Virgo

Virgo brings the gift of organization and analysis to find joy in order. The opposing sign, Pisces flows toward disorder and a let-it-be attitude. Pisces can pull you into a world of intuition, disorder, and deep feeling The balancer and path to joy is to embrace both worlds and to seek order in the nebulous flow of events and time. In Science, the discovery that there is order in Chaos opened up vast discoveries about the universe.

Libra

Libra needs balance, and defines herself by the reflection from friendships and relationships. Libra often has difficulty discerning priorities because she sees all sides of situations. The opposing sign, Aries defines himself by his own standards. Indecision is never an issue. Sometimes rash and in a hurry, Aries often leaves projects unfinished. The balancer is to develop a sense of self apart from others but still consider that they are a reflection of yourself. Take the gift of Aries’ bravery and willingness to take risks.

Scorpio

A Scorpio POF seeks to understand the mysteries of the universe. Scorpio tears down the old and worn out. He seeks to uncover deception and expose bare truth. There is no peace nor patience in pure Scorpio. The opposing sign of Taurus seeks to build a stable, secure existence. There is patience and a peace of mind in the security of a well-built foundation. The balancer is in building from a foundation of truth and in showing others new pathways to their truth.

Sagittarius

Truth, knowledge, and freedom are your keywords. Your fiery energy pushes for more and more, sometimes without a plan or an end in sight, reveling in the sheer joy of expansion. Often there is a directionless drive to have it all. The opposing sign of Gemini brings direction, discernment, and insight into the world of duality. Gemini makes decisions based on the dual nature of things. The balancer is taking the skill of Gemini to see two sides of situations, analyze, and make decisions into the drive toward freedom and expanding your horizons.

Capricorn

Capricorn POF is about form, structure, bridges, focus. The drive is to create in a purposeful, concrete way. You need to take life in your own hands and be in control. The opposing sign, Cancer is nebulous, emotional, watery, freely relying on intuition and “gut feelings.” Allowing the energy of Cancer into your life brings you the ability to experience deep joy in your accomplishments and to freely accept help from others without giving up your authority.

Aquarius

Aquarius POF brings out to the rim of society. You don’t play by the rules and forge your own way, logical or not. Possibilities excite you and you won’t be contained in societies’ box. Freedom and fairness are important. The opposing sign, Leo brings a desire for power and adulation for the gifts you give to the world. The balancer is to turn this need for power inward and transform it to self-empowerment and pride in the work you do the empowers others, too.

Pisces

Pisces POF is about oneness, universality, and the flow of energy that unites us all. Pisces seeks to escape the traps and ruts of mundane living and experience the music of the spheres. The opposing sign, Virgo is grounded, organized, practical. By embracing this part of you and bringing it into the nebulous world of Pisces, you can inspire and transcend the rules of the mundane world to help others discover the cosmos within.

*(I found all of this online looking on this topic)

[writingsbychlo]

smoke and fire (17)

word count; 8202

summary; after a dangerous call, neither of you can handle the waiting around anymore, and everything finally bubbles over.

notes; you’re welcome.

warnings; descriptive injury, reference to death, reference to arson, minor character injury.

“Holy fucking shit, I know they prepared us for this stuff with all those drills and what have you, but I never expected this.”

You smacked at Newt’s arm roughly, covering your face as you stared up at the building, smoke curling up from the top of the building, and scared students were all gathering on the grasses and the tennis courts, filtering out of the buildings and lining up, and it was eerily quiet. The usual fires you attended were loud, screaming and shouting of worried relatives as chatter went up, and big ones like this had news cameras and reporters gathering around, hounding victims for interviews and information.

This time, it was unsettlingly calm.

The kids had all followed routine, lined up with their teachers, each of whom were going along with attendance records, checking off the kids that had arrived and making sure they were where they were supposed to be, while tickling names off. Only the gentle voices of teachers talking in low tones to their classes could be heard instead of the usual clamouring, and you could still hear the alarms of the school’s fire alarms from inside as they rang.

Glowing flames licked up into the sky, windows shattering as glass got too hot and the smoke was black as possessions burned. Kids were crying, and at the gates were camera flashes and news team, all of whom held back out of earshot as they weren’t allowed to film the children, kept back from school property, and it was a blessing you were thankful for, because they would have been overwhelmed. You let out a slow breath, three other ambulances all pulling up, and you swallowed thickly while staring at the burning remnants of a once productive high school.

Even if they weren’t injured, you’d be required to check every kid here, and you were grateful for the assistance of other paramedics. They were already beginning to shift their equipment, setting up with tables and chairs that staff were carrying out from a sports hall storage room that wasn’t connected to the main building, safe from the flames and creating a makeshift triage bay.

Even just as you looked around, there were hundreds of kids that you and Newt would have to sort through alone. The firemen were buzzing around behind you, undoing rolls of hoses and taking them to the nearest hydrants, trying to come up with some kind of game plan, and you stared up at the building, nothing but pure confusion and empathy for the terror these students must be feeling.

“There’s gotta’ be, like, two thousand kids here.” You mumbled, cupping a hand over your eyes to look up at the glare, and your body sank a little.

“Yep, and you get to pick a piece of paper, choose your year group.” You jumped slightly, an unfamiliar voice, and your eyes found a similar uniform to your own, stretched over broad shoulders of a man who was a lot taller than you were, hair pulled back neatly behind his head in a ponytail, tattoos peeking out from under the collar of his shirt, and a beard neatly tucked away underneath his chin. “I’m Arthur, firehouse ‘46, and I’m apparently the one in charge of dividing up all the classes.”

“Is it too much to hope we get the freshmen?” You chuckled, taking a piece of the folded paper from his hands as he tried to keep it fair, and a deep chuckle vibrated through him as he nodded.

“Unfortunately, it would be, because my partner already picked that one out for us. No favouritism, I swear, just luck.”

“I’d challenge you on that, but your fist looks like it’s about the size of my head, so you’d probably win that fight.” He let out a louder laugh at that, raising a brow as you opened the piece of paper, his messy handwriting illegible for a second, and you studied it, before he was letting out a low whistle. “Juniors. Tough break.”

Newt let out a groan, what was arguably going to be the rowdiest and loudest group, protesting the most and kicking up a fuss, and you shrugged, accepting his final pitiful smile before he moved on. Newt watched him go, eyes scanning along him slowly for a second, before you clicked your fingers at him. “Hey, you just fixed things with your boyfriend! You gave me shit for being friendly with other firefighters, stop checking out other paramedics!”

“I wasn’t checking him out!” Newt gasped, cheeks tinting pink. “I was just looking, I guess. He’s not my type, I don’t want them too tall, it makes me feel tiny. I hate that. I want to be pushed up against the wall, not thrown around like a rag-doll. Too much muscle.” You glanced at him again, noting what he meant, because the man did look like he spent every free minute he had at the gym, and you shrugged.

Your eyes wandered then, you couldn't help it, flickering over the others around you before finding your team. The Truck team were all reporting to Thomas, no step-in lieutenant having arrived in Gally’s place yet, and didn’t like the idea of being a firefighter down on your team. He seemed to be coping through, giving out orders to a team twice the size, each breaking away in the usual pairs he made as they divided off to complete tasks.

Around the entrance to your ambulance, two tables had been set up, one on each side and a third one across them, forms being laid out in stacks with pens, each to be filled out by a student and held with them to take home, ones you’d have to sign every time to show you dismissed them, and you flexed your fingers, already anticipating the ache that would come.

The lines were beginning to shift again, teaching staff arriving with their lines of students, waiting to be told what to do, and you shared a look with Newt, before diving right into it. Splitting off the classes, you sat down behind one table, kids slowly filling out each form and coming to sit with you, letting you do initial checks across their eyes, their pulse and their reaction times, before signing each form.

Some were a little more injured, with small cuts and grazes, jostling in the halls knocking them around or to the floor, and you had quite a few bumped heads. Some had worse smoke inhalation, and some had been closer to the initial blast. Those were the worst ones, the ones with head injuries that were filling up the chairs laid out to wait for parents, and you had to not only sign your name on their forms but fill out medical information cards for them, ready to be sent to the hospital, and only an hour in, you felt like your hand was going to drop off. You’d scarcely made it to the other side off half of the kids, watching them all slowly being collected by crying and fearful parents, let in at the gates to find their kids, when you found out what had happened.

The gas taps in the science labs had exploded, a leaky seal that hadn't closed off and a bunsen burner that was too close to the leak. The science experiment gone wrong had sent flames bursting through all the labs along the floor, and you had to choke back bile when the kids who’d been sitting closer to the flames had come in.

They were shaking, sobbing tears and blood from burned skin that still smelled of gas. Melted plastic on smart uniform ties and burned clothing that still looks smokey. Ash was beginning to fall from the sky, blowing in your direction from the wind, some still glowing until it reached the ground, and they were all trembling from the trauma just at the remnants of it. You didn’t blame them.

The kid coming forwards next was shaky, an empty form clutched carefully in his hands as he handed it over, and you scribbled your name on it, looking up at him with a raised brow. “You know you gotta’ fill this out, right? I can’t let you leave until you have.”

“I know.” He whispered, the hands that were clenched under the table being lifted after a moment's hesitation, and he held his palms out, open hand facing you, backs pressed to the table. “I would but it hurt, I tried.”

You could see the etched strains of dotted ink at the top, your eyes wide as you took in the damage to his hands. He seemed alright everywhere else; a little red along parts of his skin where he’d gotten too close to some flames, but other than that, nothing too bad, but the damage to his palms was extensive. Blackened skin was charred and burned, bleeding and red flesh exposed underneath and raw to the cold air and you imagined it would be agony, the injuries travelling all the way to his wrists. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I, um, my hands got burned when I was trying to get out.”

I can see that, kid, but how?” You were filling in the form yourself, scribbling down the notes you could do yourself, and letting him substitute his name, date of birth and class number as you reached those sections, pen moving quickly over the paper as you waited for a reason. “I can't let you go until you tell me.”

“A door got stuck. I had to push it open.”

“How stuck was this door, because these aren’t the kind of burns that happen with quick movements, this took prolonged exposure.” He squirmed in his seat, avoiding your eye, and you gave in. Beside you, scattered around on your table and in the ambulance were the contents of your medkit, and the drawers, all running low on supplies as you’d tended to many injured kids, and you shook your head at his reluctance to speak. “Alright, fine, we’ll wait it out. Any allergies?”

He shook his head, chin wobbling a bit, and you handed his form back over to him, a neat crease down the middle where it was folded in half, and he held his hands out for you upon request. His face screwed up at the sting of the antiseptic spray, soft warnings on murmured apologies on your lips as you sterilised the wounds, before beginning to wrap them with aloe and cream soaked bandages. He shed several tears during the process, twisting to wipe his face on his shoulder as you patched up the first hand.

“Ready to talk, yet?”

He looked up at you again, shaking his head slowly after a second, and you let out a disappointed sigh that you hoped might make him cave, but he held strong. You worked on the other hand, wrapping the medicinal bandages slowly and carefully over his skin, weaving between his fingers and around his thumb, making sure to cover all of the exposed flesh right down to his thumb, before tucking it in carefully and sealing them with tape.

“You can go and wait over on those chairs until you’re ready to fess up, and you’re gonna’ have to go to the hospital for real treatment.” You nodded to one of the teachers as he went, head hung low and sulking as he walked away, before you turned to the next kid.

This one was worse, the same burns but these ones travelled halfway up his forearms, another empty sheet placed down in front of you, before he too was glancing at the last kid with burned hands, and your eyes narrowed on the two. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I got stuck, behind a-”

“A closed door? Is that what you're about to say?” A guilty look flashed over the second boy’s features, wide-eyed as he swallowed the lump formed in his throat, and he nodded. “That’s total bullshit. I don’t know what the two of you have been up to, but you don’t think I know what causes burns when I see them? I work in a firehouse, my firemen get burned up all the time, and this isn’t what happens when you push open a burning door. This is what happens when you hold onto something hot for a long time.”

He didn’t say anything, he just held out his hands, hissing in pain but managing to blink away his tears, unlike his friend, when you began to treat his wounds. The more severe they were, the more supplies you required, and you opted to dab the aloe gel and burn cream mix up to his elbows on each hand with a cotton pad, gentle not to let the tips of your fingers drag on open flesh as dry rubber from your gloves irritated the wounds.

“You need to tell me what happened, because I can’t let you go when you’ve got burns like this. You know it’s criminal evidence, right? If you don’t fess up and tell me the truth, you’ll have to tell it to the police. Why didn’t your teachers bring you forwards first if you had these kinds of injuries?”

“Because we weren’t in class.” He eventually whispered, and now the tears flowed, something inside of him seeming to crack wide open as hot tears flowed, the kid breaking down before you in a sob. You were wrapping his second arm carefully by the time he managed to catch his breath, his reaction shocking you a little, you didn’t want to make the kid cry with your threat of talking to the police, you just wanted to know what would happen. “We didn’t do this, I swear! We weren’t involved!”

“I know that, this was a freak accident, we already know that much, but you can tell me what happened.” Once you were finished, you took a seat before him, taking off blood and ointment stained gloves and throwing them in the bin bag you and Newt were rapidly filling up. As you did, you noticed Newt treating a kid with much the same injuries, your eyes narrowing a little on them for a second, before you sat down, picking up your pen and beginning to fill in the empty form. “We were skipping class.”

“All kids do that.” You chuckled, taking his name and date of birth as he worried his lower lip between his teeth, and just like that, all of a sudden, he was twisting to the side in his seat, retching violently onto the floor, as more tears began to flow. You abandoned the forms, rounding the edge of the table and the area around you where parents had been collecting their kids and teachers had been dismissing them suddenly fell silent, everybody turning to look over, and you rubbed his back gently, the contents of his stomach emptying.

When he was finished, he sat back up, trying to wipe at his mouth and wincing when he rubbed his mouth against his bandages by mistake, before lowering his hand. He slumped, seemingly drained of energy, eyes hooded a little, and you checked his pupils and his reactions again but they came out perfectly fine, and so this reaction wasn’t related to any injuries. “There were four of us.”

“Four of you?”

“Yeah, four of us skipped class.” You glanced around, noting only three with burned hands as Newt dismissed his kid to join your first, and a chilling feeling settled like a pit in your stomach. “We were in the theatre rooms, they’re below the science floors. We were messing around, and Ian went to the toilets in the corridors. When the explosion went off, the floor started to collapse, and a beam went over the door.”

You hated that you already knew where it was going, and your eyes impossibly wide as you glanced around, trying to find the yellow stripes of any fireman you knew to be free from your house, or any house, but they were all busy and out of view.

“The beam caught fire, and we tried so hard to move it, we tried but it hurt so much, and there was so much smoke and it got so hot, and we couldn't do it anymore. We had to go, we tried so hard but we had to go!” He was borderline hysterical, stuttering over his words as he cried, before he was gagging again, and you stepped out of the way, just avoiding his upchuck as he emptied his stomach again, guilt and anxiety taking a physical reaction on him. You processed his words, before the heavy truth settled over you again.

“Oh my God, Newt, there’s a kid still trapped in there.”

“What?” Your partner whipped around in his seat, eyes wide, before looking to the kid still heaving, and the other two with matching injuries. “Go find someone on the team, I'll finish up here!”

You nodded, pausing for a second to look around, before catching sight of a few metallic strips glinting in the light not far from the Squad truck. You stumbled over your feet, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to get there. Rounding the edge of the red van, you found Winston sitting on the edge of the truck, door open, one foot on the floor by his helmet as the other was pulled up, his back pressed to the wall, and he was panting for breath, sweating as his mask lay beside him.

He cracked an eye open as he looked up at you, confusion taking over his face for a second, before concern was replacing it. “What’s up? Aren’t you dismissing kids?”

“There’s still a kiss trapped in there?”

“We did a sweep, everyone did, they checked every room and every floor, all the rooms.” You shook your head, hands shaking a little with your fear, and you felt the tremors spread over your body.

“No, no, there is someone.” You took a deep breath to steady yourself, and he sat up a little further. “There’s three kids, burns all over their hands and up their arms, because they were skipping class. They were right under the explosions, a kid was in one of the bathrooms and a beam fell over the door, they tried to move it but they couldn't, he’s trapped inside.”

“He’s been in there since this fucking happened? That was hours ago!” Despite his shock and disbelief, he was on his feet again, grabbing for his mask and his helmet, being the first one to finish his set of tasks clearly not coming much in handy, because he was going to be going back inside. “Where was he?”

“Uh, they said they were near the drama and theatre halls.” He nodded his head, hooking his mask back up to his oxygen tank as he pulled it up and adjusted the straps on his shoulders. “Winston, I gotta’ go with you.”

“No way, it’s falling apart in there.”

“I know, but you said it yourself, it’s been hours. That kid is gonna’ need immediate first aid, and how much first aid do you know?” He looked conflicted, tapping his foot a little and glancing around, watching as a few more members of your team, as well as others, all began to emerge from different exits. There was only so much of the fire they could risk putting out, when the building was igniting faster than they could contain it, it would have to simply burn itself out. “C’mon, Winston. Just grab me gear and let's go.”

“Fine, but stick by my fucking side and don’t take a step away, okay?”

“I promise!” You nodded, and he opened up one of the spare lockers. You knew the drill, kicking off your shoes and grabbing the heatproof gear that was labelled in a silver tin with your name across the front in permanent marker. Tugging the pants up your legs as fast as you could, you sealed them at the waist, tying them tightly and grabbing your jacket. You buttoned it up, fingers shaking as you did, before kicking off your shoes, uncaring of where they landed.

Pulling on your boots, you knelt down to tie them, your med bag landing beside you as Winston had retrieved it, and he looked more than anxious as he stared at you, letting you tuck the laces into the edge of the shoes to hide them once they were tight. “You’re gonna’ have to carry your bag, because you need to wear a tank and mask.”

He shook the other objects in his hands, and you stood, turning around and guiding your arms through the straps as he held it out, your breath forced from your lungs as the heavy weight settled onto your back. Following it, he rested the mask over your face, the glass fogging up for a second as you took heavy breaths, clearing a second later when cool oxygen was twisted on and began to come through. He fixed his own mask, gloves and helmet following as you copied him, checking it was all sealed up tight around your skin, before grabbing your bag.

You always felt like an astronaut in this gear, big and puffy and baggy, like you were walking with added gravity following behind him in wide and shuffling steps as quickly as you could, nerves and fear riding more and more as you headed towards burning entrances. It was something you’d never get used to, the idea of walking straight into flames, of walking into a burning building, and you patted deftly across the front of your helmet to find your torch, turning it on as Winston did the same, and then, you were plunging into thick black smoke.

It was like something from a horror movie, you could see other firemen wandering around, their shadows as they tried to at least secure as much as they could as the fire ripped through the building, burning through whatever fuel it could, and none of them paid you any mind. Clutching your bag up to your chest, you kept your eyes fixed on Winston, not daring to take your eyes off of him in case you lost him, and he was following signs as he went, trying to find the downstairs floors of the drama and theatre.

Your steps left footprints in the ash that was lining the floor, each footstep padded to silence by the thick grey layer, like a breadcrumb trail as you went, and it was a guiding light that was brushed away seconds later with the air currents created by flames.

You knew it when you finally arrived, large amphitheatres and halls, Winston pausing as he tried to identify which way the toilets would be, and his head twisted as he looked from one end to the other.

“You check that side, I’ll check this one. Do not go out of yelling range or sight.”

You gave him a mock-salute, peeling off to the left when he went to the right, and you scanned along the walls for the doorways.

There was nothing, just places where posters had been on the walls, the smashed glass of photos or peel offs to more corridors, but no toilets or burned beams. Just as you reached the end of the hall, only one direction coming off of it in a short pathway, you noticed something. It was crumbled now, black and crumbled but it could definitely have once been a solid beam, and as you squinted through the smoke, you could just about make out a doorway.

“Winston! I think I got it!” You yelled as loud as you could, turning around to find him spinning to look at you, and you held an arm out in a point down a connected corridor. He took off in a jog, as fast as he could move in the heat and the layers of clothes, and while it took him only seconds to reach you, it felt like it dragged on and on, the emergency making everything seem too slow as you worried for the trapped kid’s well-being.

He stepped ahead first, pacing towards it, and you followed after him, a slightly relieved breath leaving you when you were close enough for your head torches to reflect on signs signalling for the toilets. Winston placed a hand on the beam as the two of you approached it, pressing down on it as best he could, and the beam groaned at the pressure, but despite the force he applied, it didn’t crack.

He held out an arm, pushing you back slightly as his hand went to the toolkit around his waist, and unhooking a small hand axe. He held it up, adjusting it carefully in his grip, before swinging it up high and bringing it back down. It dug in, getting stuck for a second, and a large splintering sound filled the air, but it didn’t break.

He tried again, and again, and your anxiety was almost ready to burst when it finally cracked, hitting the floor with a loud thud, and you jumped, wincing slightly at the sound. The half still attached to the ceiling fell down, bringing a little more of the ceiling down, and it all became unstable again. Pieces of the roof were crumbling away, crashing down in bundles of flames to the floor, but at least one problem was solved.

Putting away the axe, Winston kicked open the door, waiting to see if any fire would come out. There was fire crawling along the roof, but the tiled floors were clean, the room smoky and filled with ash but reasonably safe, and the two of you entered.

As promised, there he was, the fourth student was unconscious on the floor beside one of the sinks. You glanced around, noting the jacket he must have been wearing was soaked with water, lay over his face as he’d tried to breathe through it to stop too much smoke inhalation, and Winston glanced at you as you sunk to your knees.

“Smart kid, that move probably saved his life.” You peed it back, checking for any signs of breathing, and you found his vets to be rising and falling very slowly and weakly, barely taking in any oxygen at all. Lifting up the torch from your keyring, you raised an eyelid, bloodshot eyes encasing pupils that were hardly responsive, reactions that took over a second to come into focus, and barely moving.

Scanning along his arms, you noted the raw burns that were forming along his flesh, tugging your bag open quickly and grabbing for the aloe inside. If he was to be carried back through the building, you wanted to minimise any risk of his wounds getting any worse. You didn’t try to be delicate or gentle, you were rushing, knowing you had to put speed over gentleness now, and that you could treat them properly once you were back outside.

Twisting on down on the taps, not much water came through, dripping through the pipes, and you used your teeth to pull off one glove, daring to touch the water. It wasn’t exactly cold, the pipes underground being heated by the fires above, but it was cool enough, and you dropped piles of bandages down into the sink to begin to soak. Taking open the gel, you squeezed out thick rows of it onto his arms, using your bare hand to rub it in, trying to be fast as the skin on the back of your hand began to hurt. Once it was rubbed in, you began to pick up dripping bandages, not even bothering to ring them out, before sealing the cool wrapping around his arms as best you could to keep them secured.

As soon as they were on, you were pulling your glove back on, and rubbing at the back of your hand through the material to soothe the pain there.

“He needs oxygen, with reaction times like this, I’m surprised he’s still breathing.”

“I can give him my mask.”

Winston reached for his mask, and you shook your head. He was covered in burns, he was out cold, and there was no way he’d wake up anytime between now and the hospital, it at all. Despite being alive, you had no idea what the long-term effects would be on him, and you hoped for the best, but you knew there wasn’t much Winston could do without his mask. “You can’t, you’re gonna’ have to carry him out of here. He takes my mask.”

No way, I’m trained for this, you aren’t. You’ll choke up in here before getting back to the main corridors.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t exactly carry this kid. So, if we want to get him out of here alive, we’re just going to have to risk it.” You didn’t wait for his response, ignoring his protests as you took off your helmet, reaching behind your head for the elastics of the mask, and pulling them off. The second it was gone, your skin flared up at the rush of heat, and you took a gasping breath. Your lungs were searching for oxygen, the flames burning most of it away, and you were getting so little now that your pure source was gone.

Hooking the mask over the kid’s face, you took off your tank, holding it on your arms as Winston glared at you from behind the glass, crouching down to pick the boy up from the floor, and you placed the tank onto him too, waiting for Winston to adjust his grip before letting go of the pair. Putting your helmet back on, you tucked your hair under the collar of your jacket, protecting the back of your neck.

Zipping your bag back up and draping the damp hoodie over his head for added protection against the flames, you hid your face in your elbow, coughing against the smoke and trying to breathe lightly so as not to suck too much of it into your lungs.

“Follow me, keep up, okay? Don’t fall behind.”

There were worry and concern in his voice, friendly and desperate as he pleased with you, and you nodded your head. He turned, moving as quickly as he could as he left the bathrooms again, backing or of the door and back into the hallway. If you’d thought the bathroom had been bad, this was far worse, your eyes watering and lungs burning as soon as you stepped out. You kept one arm raised, simply to protect your face, your bag clenched under the other arm.

Winston was moving faster than you were, the lack of oxygen making you fall behind, but you could still seem him ahead, and you could see the large and fresh imprints of his bots in the ash before they were fading in the swirling storm of burning debris, following them once the smoke was too much for you to keep your eyes raised for too long. They were stinging, watering continuously to blink free dust that got in them, and your tears were almost absorbed right off of your face.

When you looked back up, daring to stare into the hallway, it was void of movement, all the firemen having cleared out as the smoke got thicker, burning through the insulation in the walls now. The corridors forked, and you paused, trying to remember which way you’d come. There was no daylight to guide you, no windows you could see through, just thick smoke lit up by orange flames, and you swallowed down on a sore throat coughing again as you grew more and more scared.

You had to move, you knew you did, and so you chose one option, knowing that moving in either way was better than simply standing still. Following it along, the further you went, the more and more unfamiliar it became, the minutes melting away as you stumbling along all the while knowing you’d chosen the wrong way. You found the wall, hand sitting on it lightly to help guide your way, and your fingers bumped against a raised section.

Pausing, you brushed the dust away, squinting to read what it said. There were several classroom guidances, and then something that made you want to cry with relief, even if it was the wrong direction. The gardens. You hadn't seen any gardens upon coming into the school grounds, and so you assumed you were on the other side of the building now, having stumbled along for so long you’d moved all that way, but as long as you got out, you’d be fine.

Following that guidance, you paused each time you found a sign, before finally, doors that had burned right off their hinges and had fallen off allowed a little sunlight to poke through the smoke.

Your feet scraped on the ground as you finally made it out, soft ash falling away to be replaced with concrete, and you wanted to fall to the ground, knees weak with bliss at escaping the building, but you forced yourself to keep going. You were gasping, throat raw as you took deep breaths, finally able to do so once again and you felt a little dizzy as your head spun at the sudden rush of fresh air.

You grabbed at the front of your jacket, sweltering in the thick material as you tugged on it until it came loose, flapping at the front and letting in cold air and you felt a little less restrained.

You stayed away from the building as you tried to walk around it, following the flashing lights on the ambulances until the place where you’d been stationed started to come into sight once again. It was clearer, only a few kids left milling around, the fire teams having retreated back to their vans, equipment being stripped off and water bottles handed out, and you searched for your own team.

You found them, all gathered around and starting at the entrance, even Winston and Newt, and you noticed that one of the ambulances was gone, presumably having rushed your reduced child to the hospital. They were waiting for you to emerge from the entrance you’d entered, all looking nervous, and Newt was the first to notice you coming around the other side.

As soon as he had, the group were turning to you, your body slumping a little more under your weight, and you staggered towards them. Newt found you first, taking your bag from your hands as you held it out to him, and offering him a tired smile as he shook his head fondly.

“You gave me a fucking heart attack.”

“I’m perfectly fine, Newt, I swear.” He frowned for only a second longer, before his lips were breaking in a smile, and Brenda was up next. She took you into a tight hug, arms underneath the edge of your jacket, which Minho was peeling down your arms for you and taking away the added weight, and you thanked him silently with a nod as you wrapped your arms back around her. “Bren, I’m okay.”

“You think you’re a damn firefighter, I swear it!”

You laughed at that, throat a little raspy as it trailed off into a caught, and Newt chuckled. “Let’s get you some water, okay?”

“That sounds awesome.” You followed them over to the trucks, Newt jogging ahead to get you a bottle, and as soon as you arrived, you took it. You cracked the lid open taking a large gulp, and looking around for a second, before the person you were unintentionally searching for was found. He looked angry, a face like thunder as he stormed over, shoulders squared and tense with furrowed brows.

His steps had purpose, and the closer he got, the more you could take him in. Slightly dirty skin, sweaty and stained with soot and ash had tracks under his eyes cut into them from tears, the edges of his scowl wobbling as he looked still on the edges of jagged emotions, and you were filled with guilt. You met him halfway, mouth dropping to talk to him but he beat you to it, a sharp inhale before he is grabbing your arm, and dragging you between the two parked fire trucks as the rest of the firemen all seemed to clear away in fear of his anger.

“Are you fucking insane?” There was a crack to his voice that you didn’t comment on, giving away that his anger was actually fear, no rage at all but simply worry that you had caused, and you hated that you’d done it, but you wouldn't take your action back, not when you’d saved a life once again. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you’d let that boy die in there. “Do you have any idea how fucking worried I was? I come out after hours in that burning building to find you and check you’re okay just to find out you’ve gone into the fucking wreckage? To find out you took off your goddamn mask and got lost?”

His frown melted away, fresh tears filling his eyes, and he sniffed lightly, his face crumpling again as his tears came free. Two large droplets leaked along his cheeks, leaving wet marks, and your stomach twisted with guilt. You took off your gloves, dropping them down to the floor without a care to be able to cup his cheeks and wipe them away from his flushed skin as he stared at you. “I got stuck, Tommy. That’s it, I’m sorry, okay? I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I knew that kid was in there and I let him die to save my own life.”

You sank down, every muscle in your body aching as you sat on the edge of the van, finally giving in to your exhaustion, and he let out a shaky and weak sob again. He followed, sinking to his knees in front of you, his entire body collapsing under the weight of his worry, but his eyes never left your own.

He lifted a bare hand, cupping your cheek the way you had for him a second ago, and his eyes moved as he swept his sights over your face, trying to take a more deep and calming breath. The simple skin to skin touch grounded him.

“Don’t make me lose you, too.” He whispered, a silent beg in his words not to leave him, and your heart cracked a little in your chest. “I know you’re mad at me right now, okay? You say you’re not but I know you are because I spent enough time with you mad when we first met to know what that looks like on you.”

You chuckled, his lips flicking up at the edges as you did.

“I can handle you being mad, though, okay? I can handle that, because I love you, but I can’t handle you dying. I can’t take that. Don’t do that to me, I need y-” Your hands smoothed over his chest, finding the edges of the jacket he had yet to shed and pulling him forwards. You bowed your head down to his level, cutting off his words by placing your lips on his, and he shuddered under your touch, groaning into your mouth as his mind caught up with what was happening.

He panted slightly, twisting his head to the side to get a better angle, and this was nothing like last night. He wasn’t shy or worried, he just poured out everything he felt, his lips working slowly but surely with your own, a desperation and need hidden underneath in the kiss that made you tremble, because it was nothing like you’d ever felt before. You didn’t feel the metal you were sitting on or the truck behind you, the voices of everyone still around seemed to face away, your entire focus shifting to only him.

He pressed up, kissing you just as firmly and gripping your jaw with a little more force. After a moment longer, lungs demanding air, he pulled back, long enough for a gasping breath and to lick over his lips. He forced himself to stand up on shaky legs, one hand on your waist pulling you with him, before he was pressing you back into the edge of the truck for support. The cold metal against your back was nothing with the way his chest pressed to you, drawing in his head as he held you so close, that hand sliding around your waist to pull you flush up against him.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, your nose bumping his as he stole several more pecks from your lips as the two of you caught your breath, and you puckered your lips for him each time, stuttering as his fingertips pressed into your skin through your shirt. “I know this isn’t how you wanted our real first kiss to go.”

“I so don’t care anymore. Just shut up and kiss me again, sweetheart.” He closed the gap himself, and you hummed happily as his tongue dragged over your lower lip, tempting you to part them, and you moaned weakly when his tongue dared to dip out and brush with your own. It was a connection you both needed, long overdue and frantic.

A messy kiss, clashes of teeth with need and raspy breaths between kisses, bumping foreheads when you moved but you'd have time to perfect it, but right now, you just needed to make the promises to each other that you were okay, and you were still here. When he finally pulled back, it was reluctantly, dragging slightly kiss swollen lips away from your own to stare at you, darkened eyes going soft the longer he looked, and he pulled away long enough to run the back of a finger over your cheek, a look that could only be described as adoration taking over. “I love you, and you don’t have to say it back, not until you really mean it, but I mean it and I want you to know. I want everyone to know, you’re always gonna’ be my first and only choice, angel.”

You grinned, a giggle that you muted by pressing your lips to his own in a chaste kiss, and when you pulled back, he followed your lips for a second, only furthering your intimate amusement.

“I’m never going to get tired of being able to kiss you now.”

“I should hope not.” He beamed, brushing the tip of his nose with your own, before stepping back fully, and bringing his hand to yours, weaving your fingers together. “Go sort out your team, lieutenant, they’ll be needing you to help pack away.”

“I’m sure they can wait a few more minutes, I’ve waited months to get here with you.”

“Yeah, well, you can have me all to yourself later. You still owe me pizza.” His joy only brightened more at the offer, his brows raising, and he was nodding enthusiastically. “I’ll stay over, and you can kiss me as much as you want.”

“I’d love that.” He pecked your lips one more time, a pink blush taking over his features as he realised he could now, before he was stepping back. “I’ll meet you back at the firehouse?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” You whispered, and he turned away, giving you a second of privacy, lifting your fingers to brush over your lips, your mind still reeling as you attempted to process what had happened. A throat cleared a second later, and Newt was standing with his hands on his hips, head tilted toward the ambulance.

“I’m not putting all that shit away myself so you can daydream about kissing Tommy.” He scoffed, teasing you a little as he made his way over, and you couldn't help the smirk your lips were forming. “So, did he finally man up and kiss you? He's only been talking about it for months.”

“I kissed him, actually.” Newt’s jaw dropped, his hands shooting up in the air with a loud cheer to follow.

“I fucking knew it! I fucking knew it! Gally owes me twenty damn bucks, and I will collect.” He slung an arm over your shoulders, guiding you towards the ambulance that he needed help with beginning to pack away, and you shrugged, reaching up your hand to hold onto Newt’s as it hung over your shoulder.

“I can’t believe you were betting on us.”

“I was betting on you, I knew he would psych himself out, all my money was on you, love.” He offered a cheesy grin, pinching at your cheek, and you raised your brows.

“Well then, shouldn't I get half of the winnings? Since I helped you to victory, and all..” Newt let you go when you reached the van, the tables being folded away by the staff, but there were medical supplies piled high in the entrance to the ambulance, and you had to pack them all away correctly, and double-check over the doses of medicines, in such a high-risk area for theft.

“Tell you what, I’ll buy you a cocktail with half the winnings, if you come on a double date with me and Derek?” You chuckled, unsure whether or not he was serious, and an odd look passed over newt’s face, the blond scratching at his jaw and avoiding your eye.

“A double date, really?”

“Look, you already know Derek, you and he are friends. Good friends. Tommy has been my best mate since I was just a lad and always will be, and you’re my best friend too. I really like Derek, okay? I really like him, and I want him and Tommy to get along too, because they’re both so important to me, and I figure a double date makes it casual.” He shrugged, looking back up to you, curious for your opinion as his cheeks grew warm. “Is it stupid? I just felt like going out to dinner or something made for less tension than a baseball game and a pizza.”

“It’s not stupid, Newt. I’m totally down for it, sounds fun, but you’re gonna’ have to convince Thomas.” You teased, and your partner rolled his eyes.

“Oh, please, I don’t gotta’ do shit if you’re on board. You have him wrapped around your little finger. You don’t even have to pucker up or bat your eyelashes, he’s already all soft on you.” Newt pouted, mocking you playfully with the words, and your guts twisted in a nervous excitement.

“I’ll talk to him about it, tomorrow morning.”

“Breakfast date?” He climbed up into the back of the van, beginning to scoop up the materials like bandages and plasters to put them away, and you started sorting through the bottles of medicine and pills that would need counting.

“Dinner date, actually.” Newt gasped falsely, holding a hand over his heart.

“Scandalous, staying over already.”

“You’re just jealous.” You shot back, his face dropping in a mock glare.

“Low blow.” He threw a roll of bandages at you, ones that bounced off of your head as you laughed at him, and rolled away to the concrete, and he pointed at them. “Go get them, and leave your attitude out there when you come back.”

You flipped him off, standing up to follow after the sealed bandages packet, and you scooped them up, glancing around the scene as two ambulances had already left, their house firetrucks following, and the third house was finishing their packing up. Brenda was packing away the coats into the van, hanging them up on the hooks inside the compartment to be washed and cleaned for later, and Minho was rolling the fire hoses back up with Jeff and Clint.

Thomas was rubbing a hand over his forehead, staring up at the building for a second, before turning, glancing around, and his eyes found yours. He paused for a second, one eye dropping in a lazy wink a moment later when he let Thomas crack through his lieutenant persona for a second, and he licked over his lips, stretching to a wide smile. He nodded his head for a second, a simple gesture but it felt like more than just that, and your lips pressed together to hold your smile, nodding your head in return, and letting your stare linger for a second longer, before going back to work.

Newt was waiting, still packing away and whistling a tune to himself as he worked, taking the bandages from you when you approached, and you hummed along in time with the tune once you recognised it enough, his eyes glinting when you did. It was an unspoken thing, a delicate symbol of friendship as the two of you worked in quiet harmony, humming along to the same song as you worked, settling in to a well worn and familiar routine that you hoped would never break.

[suddenlysackler]

Limelight

Adam Sackler x Reader

TW: N/A (maybe a lil smidge of angst but nothing major)

A/N: This has been on the back burner for quite a bit and it’s a tad messy but I wanted to put it out for you all because I miss you and I miss my goblin bf and, ya know, Cannes 2021. Thank you for reading, I’m hopeful that I’ll be back more frequently in the coming weeks!

...

Adam Sackler had ascertained very quickly that he did not care for red carpets in the slightest. 

Given what he had found himself struggling through his late teens and seemingly all of his twenties, the relief of finally, finally, finally achieving some sort of steady stream of work and establishing himself as a serious actor provided relief that he could not be more grateful for. 

He liked being able to turn down the $800 a month from his grandmother and moving out of his apartment for good this time, trading up for some swanky new town house in upper Manhattan. He liked being able to afford to be choosy about what jobs he took and he liked that he was able to split his time between stage and screen. Hell, he’d even tried his hand at directing some dumb indie film that landed him right smack dab in the middle of Sundance.

Which is when he found out he hated red carpets.

He absolutely hated the insincerity of all of it — the rushed interviews, the posing for what seemed like hours on end for photographs that he’d probably never even see and he wasn’t allowed to smile for exactly like he’d want to. He hated answering the same questions over and over again and rubbing elbows with reporters from tabloids asking about off screen romances and making it blatantly clear to him that they weren’t interested in the art he had just helped create.

Along the way, maybe five red carpet events into his career, he met you. To his surprise, he didn’t meet you through a mutual friend or at a party or by yelling at you to stop taking food from open containers in the store he was working in. He met you because he accidentally took your coffee on a Wednesday morning before you could grab it and you promptly chased him down 45th street and cussed him out by using every single insult you could manage.

And that’s when things just clicked for him.

Everything fell into place after you came into his life and suddenly he felt even more fulfilled than he originally figured was even possible. He liked coming home to you after long days on set or at the theater. He liked bringing you to see different projects he was working on during production or bringing you to advanced screenings or dress rehearsals. Whenever he got a script, you were the first one he talked to about whether or not to even try for the role. He never wanted to object you to the horror that was a red carpet.

Not until now, anyway.

It was the first time that you had happened to be available for one and, yeah, he had invited you to all of the ones he had been to since you had been together but he didn’t necessarily want to take you. Of all of the things in his world that he wanted to show you, premiere events were the one thing he wanted to shelter you from. You knew about the drinking, the philandering of his early to mid twenties, the string of psycho ex girlfriends who he swore might show up at your shared doorstep at any given time to rip him a new one. Despite all of that shit, you’d some how managed to still like him, love him even. He didn’t want to chase you away with the bullshit that came with his career.

Maybe this would be the straw that broke the camel’s back?

You’d said yes without hesitation and his stomach dropped. He knew you never turned down an excuse to dress up, to impress him and make him feel proud of the fact that you were his girl, just his. So, on the night of the Tony Awards, he sat in the hotel room his manager had reserved for the two of you to get ready with the help of a team of aestheticians and hair dressers and tailors watching you twirl in what was probably the most expensive ball gown you would ever wear in childlike delight. Music of your choice played softly on someone’s phone and you could hardly stay still enough for the finishing touches that were being pushed into your face. You looked and felt like a million bucks and Adam knew that, but how was he supposed to enjoy it? He was too preoccupied with figuring out what he would do if you freaked out on him, threatened to leave him or some shit, after the circus act you were about to parade through in order to get to your final destination of the night.

“You look handsome.” You called from the chair you had been forced into, eyes opened wide for quick swipes of mascara.

Adam was so far gone, lost in his thoughts and strapped with worry. He didn’t hear you compliment him. He didn’t see you get up and he felt as though the force of you slotting yourself between his slightly parted legs was a ghost of a touch. “Hey, doll.” He mumbled when he finally did notice you.

One of your eyebrows quirked up. “You good, Adam?” 

He sensed some wavering in your voices, maybe some concern. Maybe some doubt? “I’m okay, just hate this shit.”

The other eyebrow followed the first. “What do you mean you hate this shit?” You ask as his publicist swept into the room and began to shoo the two of you out the door and down to stand for pictures and questions. 

He held your hand tightly as you weaved down the hall and into the elevator. “I just don’t like this part.” He shrugged and you squeeze his hand as you listen. “Worried it’ll bug you as much as it bugs me.”

“I mean, I’d walk over hot coals to see you in a tux.” You teased, eyes bright. When he doesn’t shoot back with a response characteristic of his normally playful bravado, some of that brightness leaves your expression. “You know I’m just happy to be with you, right? I’m proud of you.”

Adam hummed in response and squeezed your hand back. “I know.”

You weren’t having his clipped answers. “I don’t care that there are going to be pictures or tons of people watching. You know that shit won’t make me think differently of you.”

He remained quiet after giving you another shrug, still completely scared out of his mind that your words were just that, words. That you’d hit the ground running and never look back as soon as you realized just what supporting him at these things entailed.

The silence lasted for the rest of the elevator ride, through the lobby, and in the limousine and in the little holding room they put you in that is riddled with all of the snacks he would tease you for indulging in had the circumstances been different. He was tense, his muscles tight, tight, tight from his jaw to his calves, knee bouncing and free hand clenching and unclenching right until the moment his name was called. 

The moment wasn’t awful to begin with. It’s mostly pausing and stopping a lot of times for Adam to take pictures while you watch from the sidelines and, every so often, he pulls you in for a few. He doesn’t tell you that, in the moments he doesn’t have his arm around you, that isn’t kissing your cheek chastely and holding your hand, that he feels like he’s drowning. 

It didn’t phase you as you listened to reporters hound him about his female costar and whether or not they were seeing each other. It really didn’t even phase you when one man asked you to “step aside” and referred to you as Adam’s friend, despite his tight grip on your waist and the tender glances his stole every twenty seconds or so. And honestly, you didn’t really care that you might have gotten jostled up a little bit by photographers and other reporters as you stepped aside, more than happy to speed up the process for Adam.

But Adam would not have that, not at all.

“We’re fuckin’ done.” Adam growled, his eyes locking on your face as soon as he noticed you stumble a bit. He left without another word to any of the reporters and looked for his publicist, who was beyond livid at the fact that Adam was blowing off his responsibilities without much of an explanation. Before he went up to him, he grabbed your hand and dragged you along with him, not saying another word.

After a hushed but tense back and forth between the two men, the three of you stepped out of the view of the public and quickly found one of the many green rooms for invited guests to cool down and touch up hair and make up before heading into the venue. 

He paced and paced and paced for a long moment, leaving you to sit on the couch and watch with bated breath, praying that his older destructive tendencies didn’t suddenly find their way back to the surface of his psyche. 

After a long while, you finally spoke. “Can you come here?” You whispered, eyes round and, to be frank, a bit desperate. 

Adam came to you without a moment’s hesitation and knelt in front of you, placing his head in your lap and putting your hands in his hair. “Are you going to leave me tonight?” He mumbled into the tulle of your dress.

A soft smile crossed your lips and you shook your head, then moved to cup his cheeks and lift his face up to look at your own. “Now why would I even consider doing that?” You hummed. 

“After that shit show? Any sane person would leave.”

“Whoever said I was sane? Isn’t that why you like me?” 

He chuckled at that and nodded, biting back a comment about how anyone would have to be insane to want to stay with him for as long as you had. “That was just some totally bullshit and you know it, doll.”

You shrugged and shook your head once more. “Nothing I can’t handle, I’ve had my fair share of total bullshit with old haunts showing up on our doorstep, huh?” You made sure to keep your tone teasing, not wanting him to feel as though he needed to shoulder any of the blame for the situation.

Adam laughed again and relaxed visibly for the first time all night. “Do you want to even stay?” He asked, his own voice a bit more reassured. 

“Of course I want to stay, you’re up for an award, dummy.” You giggle, letting your head fall back as he moved up to pepper your exposed neck with kisses and playful bites. “And there’s the after party — I heard there’s going to be some damn good desserts and music.”

He flashed you a smirk when he pulled back and stood, then offered his hand to you. “What is it you always say when I ask to eat out on the way home from shit?” He proposed.

You stood and took his hand, intertwining your fingers and squeezing before walking toward the door. “What do you mean?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed.

Adam’s smirk only widened as he held the door open for you and smacked your ass before letting you go. “We have dessert at home.”

[kamilah-the-bloodqueen]

Remember Me (4/???)

I AM SO FUCKING SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO FINISH. Honestly I lost a lot of motivation to write after Bloodbound because PB has greatly decreased in the quality of their books. I am still trying to find the time and motivation to write and am forcing myself to finish my series at the very least but if I am being completely honest I feel like the Kamilah fandom has died, PB’s books mostly suck and I don’t even really play choices anymore. Who knows, I’m trying to learn to write the code for episode so maybe I’ll start posting my own stories and choices on that platform with better plot, smut and less diamond focus since it would be a hobby. This chapter is ASS and mostly just moves the plot along - so if you want action I would wait for a different series or later chapter - okay bye!

Pairing: Adrian x MC x Kamilah (Amy)

Tags: I paused the tag list since it’s been so fucking long but if you want a tag please let me know because I’m pretty sure most people think this series died with me :)

Words: ~1500 (Short because I needed to finish a chapter to motivate me to finish the next)

Kamilah took a deep breath as she knelt on the floor beside Adrian, carefully wrapping her arms around her brother, her heart sinking with every sob that left his lips. She didn’t speak, she knew her words would come off too harshly and she couldn’t blame Adrian for feeling that way, after all she knew how much he loved Amy. 

“Adrian, I’m sorry. I...I truly don’t know what to say.” As their eyes met Kamilah saw exactly how devastated he was, and even in her two thousand years of life, she had never been in his situation. 

“Kamilah, do you think she’ll...well she says we’re just friends but do you think she’ll fall in love with me again?” His lips trembled, his hands shaking and his eyes glistened with tears. 

“I don’t know. As much as I believe love is a silly mortal affair, and a simple chemical reaction, it can’t be forced but I’m sure if you just be yourself and do your best to be her friend that any romantic feelings will follow.” Kamilah moved away as Adrian calmed himself, both of them passing a nod of agreement as he wiped his face clean with tissues. 

“Your wisdom has always guided me well Kamilah.” 

“I suppose that is two thousand sixty three years of experience speaking.” 

“Heh, I guess my two hundred years don’t nearly compare...” 

“You’re still a simple child in my eyes, I just took a liking to you.”

“Well, thank you Kamilah. It seems I owe you quite a bit.”

They both stood from the floor and took seats on Adrian’s office couch, Kamilah folding her legs and crossing her arms and Adrian crossing his ankles and folding his arms. 

“We’re practically siblings - you don’t owe me anything. Just try to take care of yourself and well...don’t expect anything from Amy. I’m sure this is difficult for her, difficult is an understatement. I can’t imagine what she’s experiencing.”

“Maybe I’ve been too selfish Kamilah...I’ve been thinking more about what I want from her instead of focusing on if she’s okay or what she wants.” 

“Sometimes it’s alright to be selfish, and I can understand why you felt that way but you are correct, we need to focus on what Amy wants now, not what she wanted before the accident.”

“You’re absolutely right. I can only hope for the best...I just really...I really wanted...I believed she was the one.” 

“I know you did. I wanted her to be the one for you as well, I still hope she comes back to you Adrian.”

“Me too.” 

Adrian’s phone buzzed at the same time Kamilah’s did, Lily having texted both of them to rendezvous with her and Jax at Amy’s old apartment to talk about the recent events. 

“We should go, but do you feel okay?” Kamilah patted Adrian’s shoulder as they both stood from the couch.

“Yes I think so.” They hurried to the elevator and got into Adrian’s black Mercedes as they navigated towards Lily’s apartment. Once they arrived Lily greeted them before guiding them up to the apartment where Jax waited on the couch with a beer in hand.

“Hey guys...how ya doin?” His words were slurred and he was obviously under the influence to a decent extent. 

“Tell me you have something other than beer Lily.” Kamilah grimaced as Jax took another swig of the beer. She had no problem with beer but she hated that brand and would rather remain sober than allow herself to drink that brand. 

“Yeah, vodka or wine?”

“Vodka.” Kamilah spoke without hesitation while Adrian grabbed a beer from the fridge and took a seat next to Jax on the couch. Lily began to pour Kamilah a shot, and once the glass was full Kamilah took the bottle from her and took two large gulps before sitting on the leather chair and holding the bottle with one hand. 

“So we’re here to get drunk? I thought we were supposed to talk about Amy?” Kamilah’s voice broke the deathly silence that filled the room. Adrian leaned in the door before removing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt and, grabbing three bottles of the cheap beer and sinking into the recliner opposite of Lily and Jax. 

“I didn’t want to drink...well grieve...alone. I mean I can’t do this with Amy anymore...well I could but it wouldn’t be the same... and I have my friend back but it’s really just...it’s not the same. I don’t know I just didn’t...you can leave if you want but I didn’t want to grieve alone…” Lily began to sob, her tears falling into her glass of wine as Jax and Adrian frowned. Kamilah held her stoic expression, but even the alcohol could not erase the ache she felt in her chest.

“I see, well I guess we all process grief differently…” Kamilah spoke calmly, but deep down she felt her own sense of grief. As she gazed around she realized how messy Jax’s hair and clothes were, and how exhausted and drained Lily was. “You guys look a mess…”

“Thanks Kamilah.” Jax drunkenly snickered and Lily sniffled. Adrian remained quiet, taking a long drink from the bottle in his hand before switching to the other glass and downing it just as quickly. 

“Does this not fucking hurt you?” Lily drunkenly scolded as Kamilah flinched ever so slightly. None of them had ever heard Lily so fragile, so devastated. She had every reason to be - she had lost her best friend - even though Amy had survived the accident, the memories were all gone and everything they had once shared was gone. 

“It...does...I was just remarking on-”

“I don’t care about your remarks, at least not now. Don’t you fucking get it? I lost my fucking best friend and I have to watch her find everything again! Do you know how that fucking feels Kamilah? I’m sure you do from all your time as a vampire, but please, for the love of god and for the sake of our friendship just shut the fuck up. I can’t handle this.” Lily’s hand gripped on her bottle as it shattered against her palm, the beer pouring onto the tile floor and seeping into the edges of the carpet. 

“I...apologize Lily…”

“It’s fine! It’s fine! Everything is fine I guess. I don’t know I just...I’m not coping well...and I feel guilty for saying that because Amy has it the hardest of us all and yet here I am getting wasted to be in her position - to forget everything while also being the person who put her in this position in the first fucking place. I don’t think it’ll ever be the same as it was before…”

“Maybe that’s for the best…” Adrian finally joined the conversation. Kamilah, Lily and Jax turned to face him as he swirled the bottle around in his hand - his brown eyes shiny from the tears that had built up. “...we all lost someone...Amy was a different person to each of us...but maybe we have to lose that person for some reason…”

“Adrian, do not try to give me that ‘it’s for the best’ bullshit.” Lily took a deep breath as Adrian shrugged. 

“I’m not. I guess it’s just the alcohol talking, but I was going to propose to Amy that night and maybe it was a sign I shouldn’t have, or maybe the world is punishing me for my sins...but fuck all of that...it’s...it’s a forgotten memory and we need to forget just like Amy...”  

---------------- Amy’s POV ------------------

It was a weird feeling that I couldn’t describe. Having people who seemed like strangers tell me all about the things we’ve done together gave me such comfort and anxiety at the same time. I wanted to believe and trust each of them but at the same time, it would be so easy to lie about it. Maybe I’m just being paranoid about the situation - nobody would really benefit from creating an elaborate story just to mess with my mind. 

God this IV really stings...and now that I’m thinking about it, my ribs really hurt too. I should call the doctor or nurse but it’s nearly midnight. I mean it’s their job but they’re humans and I don’t want to be that super needy patient…

At least that Lily girl seems genuine, I can see why I was her best friend. I appreciate her sincerity more than I can verbalize to her. I’m still wary of Jax though - that man looks like he could kill in an instant and I don’t want to get on his bad side. I’m glad they’re friends with each other though - they seem to get along really well and...Adrian. Poor bastard. I broke his heart. I broke his heart and I can’t even help it. How am I supposed to even really process that whole fucking mess. He’s so sweet and gentle and genuine and I can’t even reciprocate it back to him...but maybe with time I could…? But Kamilah...she makes my heart skip a beat too...but she’s so unlike anyone I’ve even taken interest in - callous and stoic most of the time with very few soft spots. It wouldn’t be any type of understatement to claim my heart is as confused as my head. 

[malfoysbtch]

Unexpected Changes

Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

Summary: You’ve been best friends with Draco since you were children but you’ve had feelings for him for most of your friendship. What happens when Blaise lets your feelings slip to Draco?

A/N: I’m still working on part 3 of Uneasy Promises and figured I’d post this in the meantime :)

You pushed through the crowd of students, desperately trying to reach your room before your best friend caught up to you. You couldn’t face him at the moment, not after what Blaise had done in potion’s class. You were actually avoiding Blaise as well, as he knew what he was doing, and he had promised you he would never tell anyone your secret.

You had grown up with Draco Malfoy, your parents being very close friends which allowed for you to see each other very often. Of course, you had an innocent childhood crush on the pale, blonde headed boy, but you had never expected it to blossom into full blown feelings in your later years. You had pushed them away as soon as you noticed yourself feeling them, as you didn’t like change and were scared of your dynamic changing if you told him of your attraction.

Upon reaching your personal prefect room, you plopped down onto your bed, staring at the top of the canopy. You didn’t know how you were ever going to face him again and you even considered just avoiding him until holidays and then figuring it out from there. ‘There’s no avoiding him, you heard him pushing Blaise for answers before you even made it out of class,’ you thought to yourself. You groaned, reassessing the situation, wondering if there was a way you could pull it off as a dumb joke.

Earlier in the day you had been walking to your potion’s class with Draco, laughing and joking along the way. You had actually been quite excited at that point to see how different the class would be with Professor Slughorn as a teacher; you had no idea at the time that it would turn into a complete disaster when you least expected.

Towards the end of the class, Slughorn introduced a potion he had brewed to show the class called Amortentia. Many of the girls in the class were very excited, as Amortentia was the strongest known love potion in existence. Slughorn proceeded to explain to the class that the smell would be different for each of them, as they would smell what, or who, they desired the most. Your mind instantly went to Draco and your cheeks flushed at the thought; you had always loved the way he smelled, finding comfort in the scent that invaded your nose when he would hug you.

The tall blonde noticed the flush in your cheeks and began pinching them and making fun of you, “Merlin, you have a crush, don’t you?” He laughed as you swatted his hands away, grumbling under your breath and crossing your arms. To you, this was almost as good as a verbal confirmation that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, as he merely laughed and poked fun rather than seeming curious about who it was you had a crush on. Blaise actually joined him, which caused irritation to begin to rise; you wanted him to stop before he said too much, though it was already too late.

“Why don’t you go smell it, Y/N? You can finally tell us all about your feelings for Malfoy when you smell him,” Blaise teased, causing the table to go quiet and your head to turn quickly in his direction. Your heart dropped and you didn’t dare look at Draco, despite the feeling of his eyes burning into your back as you packed up your things. Rushing out of the door, you found yourself pushing through groups of students who had been released from their classes, fighting to reach the comfort of your bed.

Now, as you lay in your canopy bed, you thought of what would happen if he did feel the same way; you wondered how it would feel to have him lying beside you, holding you close. You wondered what it would feel like to be intimate with him, having him touch you. ‘Maybe he feels the same and it’ll all be worth it,’ you thought, enjoying the idea of what could be. But then, you wondered, what would happen if he didn’t feel the same? It seemed as though he gave up much quicker than you expected, he wasn’t knocking on your door trying to talk to you. Did this mean he was avoiding you as well? You couldn’t bear the thought of losing your best friend and only person you ever fully trusted and enjoyed.

Finally deciding that your own mind was the worst place to be at the time, you pulled yourself off of your bed and down the stairs. You ignored the whispers and stares as you made you way to the couch where Blaise sat. “Where’s Draco?” you were short with him, letting him know you were still angry with him. His face fell when he looked up at you, his smile quickly turning into an expression of guilt. “Y/N I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t-“

You cut him off, “It’s fine, we’ll talk about it later, where is he?” You weren’t trying to be rude to your friend, even if you were angry at him, but you knew if you waited too long you would chicken out. He studied you for a moment, trying to understand your intentions before speaking, “He went to the astronomy tower. He really wanted to speak with you.” His words were full of meaning as he gave you a pointed look, telling you that you neededto speak with him.

With a nod, you walked out of the common room into the dungeons. As you made your way to the astronomy tower, you tried to come up with what you were going to say to him, though every time you tried, it made you even more nervous. You weren’t sure how you were going to do it considering you couldn’t even think of what to say to him without freaking out. Should you just come right out with it? Or should you explain how it all began? You huffed, running a hand through your hair as you turned a corner that lead to the stairway up to the tower.

As you reached the bottom of the staircase, you finally made your decision and quickly stomped up the steps. Draco whipped around as you burst into the room; you seemed to be angry and he didn’t know exactly what to think or do in the moment. “Before you say anything, I want you to hear me out,” you had stopped a few feet in front of him and spoke fiercely, giving him no choice but to listen. All he did was cross his arms and give a nervous nod, signaling for you to continue.

“You may not feel the same but I’m so tired of hiding everything. Do you know how long it’s been since I really just thought of you as a best friend, Draco? We were children, it was just supposed to be a stupid crush, it wasn’t supposed to turn into more, I wasn’t supposed to have feelings for my best friend, and I wasn’t supposed to have smelled you in the Amortentia potion earlier today, but I’m sick of hiding it. You have to know, whether it changes everything badly or not, I love you.” You took a very deep breath, as you had talked quickly with no breaks to allow yourself to properly breathe. You took in Draco’s expression; he seemed to be deep in thought, a smile taking over his lips, though you were unsure of what this meant.

His silence stretched on for what felt like forever as he stood in front of you, looking incredibly handsome with his hair messy and his cloak laying sloppily on his shoulders. “It does change everything, Y/N,” he spoke quietly, and your heart dropped at his words, your feet seemed to step back by their own will. He shook his head vigorously, walking closer until he was inches away. “It changes everything because you finally did what I couldn’t. I was too afraid of ever losing you, but I can’t take it anymore I need you,” he had placed a hand against your cheek while the other pulled you against him by your waist. Your heart thumped rapidly against your chest and your breathing became shallow as he placed his forehead against yours, his eyes traveling down to your lips. He finally pulled you in, placing a gentle, hesitant kiss against your lips. When you kissed him back, placing your hands on his chest, he seemed to relax and kissed you deeper and more fervently, making up for all of the time you guys had kept your feelings to yourself. His lips melted with yours as they moved together passionately, almost desperately, as if neither of you could get enough of each other. He backed you into the wall, his hands roaming under your shirt and over your back and hips as he tucked his face into your neck, leaving kisses over the skin that was exposed. Your hands created a complete mess of his hair, tugging at his silvery blonde locks while you pulled each other closer.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he breathed. His chest was rising and falling quickly, each of you out of breath. You smiled, looking up at him as your hands roamed his chest before resting on his shoulders. “You have no idea.”

You closed your eyes, taking in the way his hands felt against you, finally holding you the way you’d always imagined. This didn’t help in the process of trying to calm yourself down after the events that had just occurred. “You’re mine now, darling,” you opened your eyes to see him biting his lip, smiling down at you with a gleam of excitement in his eyes. “And you’re mine,” you reached up and kissed him again.

The two of you left the astronomy tower after hours of talking, kissing, and holding each other; everything you had each wanted to do for years but were too afraid to act on. That night, you spent the night in his prefect dorm and talked about years of memories that were now so different since you knew the others point of view. As you dozed off, you felt him push your hair out of your face and plant a kiss on your cheek. “I can’t believe you’re finally mine. You’re my forever and I’ll always protect you.”