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charliemwrites · 2 months ago

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Hiiiii! So I’m not super thrilled with this but I’ve been having a time of it at work so I worked on this when I could 🙃

Not sure if there will be a second part yet tbh we’ll see!

Edit: almost forgot to add that the gorgeous divider below is by @gildui they have some absolutely beautiful cod themed dividers.

Carrion

Reader comes back Wrong

Content: implied/referenced torture, injury, suicide reference/implicated “pact” (by background character), lack of wound care

The breakup was bad.

Not in the top 3 of Simon’s worst nightmare-inducing memories - but likely top 5. He certainly wakes up chest aching and eyes burning often enough for it to be a solid contender. He’s haunted by tears that dripped like acid and the cracks in your voice deafening him.

On bad days, he thinks he can still see you shuffling down the halls, eyes sunken and red-rimmed, dark circles and chapped lips. Anger giving way to resignation giving way to pain and sadness. The rest of the team tight-lipped and wincing, no sides taken, shoulders and ears offered equally in commiseration.

Your misery wanted no company, though.

You didn’t tell Simon that you were leaving. Gaz let slip over a subdued but obligatory game of cards, you’d be gone for a long time - loaned out to Laswell.

Simon didn’t go to see you off. Didn’t ask why you were leaving or accuse you of being too immature to be on a team with him. He didn’t wish you good luck, stay safe with the rest of the team on the tarmac at 0-dark when you took off.

He should have.

Price says you’ll be gone for six months. Just six. It’s better this way, he reminds them when Johnny balks. His eyes are on Simon, though, when he adds that you need to get your head on straight, and you weren’t able to do it with them.

So. Six months.

Simon stops expecting you on his left. Stops smelling your shampoo lingering on bits of clothes he pretended not to notice you steal. He still dreams about you begging him not to push you away.

183 days come and go.

On day 184, Laswell sends word - your temporary team likes you quite a bit. They want you to stay on for one more month… one more mission… one more…

Six months turns to ten.

312 days since you left; since you were home.

The team hasn’t stopped leaving a space for you at their tables, right between Gaz and Price. You miss your own birthday. Laswell says she’ll pass along well wishes.

The situation changes. A target resurfaces. All hands on deck, including yours.

374 days. Twelve months and some change.

They don’t spend the holidays with you, but there’s a stack of presents waiting in Price’s office. Your mugs have collected dust in the back of the rec room cabinet.

Laswell says you’re still deployed on one last mission, return TBD. Soon, though.

487 days. Still TBD. Soon. Really. Just some loose ends to tie up.

561 days. There was some trouble during exfil but you’re alright. Just a bit of recovery.

You’re coming home.

590 days. You’ll land at 0700 tomorrow.

It’s been 591 days since Simon last saw you. Since any of them last saw you.

Laswell has come to deliver you personally, a kind of apology for keeping you away so long. She’s the first off the transport and you’re right behind her.

Your hair is shorter. Much, much shorter. There’s a new patch on your jacket - memento from your temporary team, Simon figures.

Apart from that, you look… almost exactly how you did when you left. Dark circles under your eyes, mouth drawn and tight. There’s invisible weight compressing your shoulders, urging them in and down. But you’re there again. Just the way he remembers.

(Why are you the way he remembers?)

“Long time, no see,” Gaz calls, reaching for you.

There’s half a beat, you blink. Hesitate.

Then you grin and reach back.

“Missed my pretty face, did you?” you reply.

Johnny laughs and brings you in for a hug. You twitch hug him back, patting his shoulder as you pull away.

“Good to have you back, Sergeant,” Price says, shaking your hand.

You turn to Simon, nod in greeting, expression pleasant. “Ghost.”

So that’s how it’ll be? Alright.

“Sergeant.”

That night, you go out for drinks with the team and Laswell. Simon goes along to show there are no hard feelings.

(Not that you seem to need reassurance. It’s not even that you’re not looking at him. You are. Whenever he speaks, the rare times he does, or if he shifts in his seat. Your gaze doesn’t linger or jerk away, you treat him like you do Johnny and Gaz and Price.)

When Johnny mixes up your usual for Price’s, you don’t even seem to notice. But Simon does.

“When did you start drinking whiskey?” he wonders.

You used to swear you’d never like it, claiming it tasted like boot polish and the “Boys Club” wasn’t worth the indigestion it gave you.

“Someone from my other team,” you say by way of explanation.

You don’t ask for another whiskey. Laswell gets the rest of your drinks for that night.

Simon turns into the rec room two days later and finds you already there. There’s only the light above the sink on, and you’re staring at the steady drip, drip, drip from the faucet. A cup of black coffee cools in your hand. You’re already wearing gloves.

“Sugar’s in the left now,” he calls.

Your head twitches, something pops in your neck.

“Oh, thanks,” you chirp, turning for the cabinet. “Sleep okay, LT?”

“‘Bout as well as I ever do,” he replies gruffly, sidling up next to you for the kettle.

You hum. There’s a yellow packet in your hand. (Didn’t you used to like the blue one?)

“I get that,” you sympathize.

He snorts. Since when?

“Do you?”

When he glances down, you’re not looking at him. Instead, you’re trying (and failing) to get the sink to stop dripping.

“You know that’s been broken for ages,” he says.

At least as long as the 141 has been around. You tried to fix it once when you first joined up, too, with no luck.

“Right,” you say. A little too quickly, a little too agreeably. “Well, anyway, enjoy your tea, Lieutenant.”

You leave the packet of sugar behind. Unopened.

You’re back and it’s like it used to be - not just before you left, but before the breakup. Before there was ever anything to break up.

Your time away seems to have given you whatever space from Simon you were hoping for, because you act like there was never anything at all.

He’s half expecting, dreading, that you’ll pull him aside at some point. Ask for a word after dinner, or swing by his room before bed. Talk about the break up now that cooler heads prevail and 19 months have sanded down the rough feelings. Seek closure, maybe.

But you don’t. The weeks pass until a month has gone and you never exchange more than easy pleasantries with Simon. You give him space, give him privacy. Things you never used to give him much of before, for better or worse.

You fool around with Gaz and Johnny, trade quips with Price, and follow Simon’s orders. Train recruits. Write reports.

You’re back, better than ever.

So why does it feel like Simon’s still waiting for you to return?

You’re always dressed now, head to toe. Day or night, rain or shine. From the neck down you’re in full sleeves, long pants, boots and gloves.

It doesn’t occur to anyone until you’re sweating through your compression shirt in the gym. Wipe your shiny forehead for the dozenth time before Johnny says, “why not just take it off?”

“It’s not that bad,” you laugh, waving him off.

When you lie down to bench press, Simon notes the bottom of your shirt tucked tight into your waistband. He exchanges a glance with Johnny - he’s seen it too.

You used to dress in shorts and sports bras during exercise, a towel over your shoulder. In the common room, you’d mill in tank-tops and boxers. Even used to trot down the hall swaddled in a towel or robe, mumbling that you forgot a razor or some other toiletry before showering.

“What, did ye get an embarrassing tattoo or somethin’?” Johnny asks finally.

You blink at him, expression bemused. “A tattoo? Why do you think I have a tattoo?”

“Yer covered up like a nun on Sunday. It cannae be comfortable.”

You snort. “Just because you’re allergic to clothes, MacTavish…”

“Allergic?! Wha’s tha’ s’posed t’mean?!”

Gaz barks a laugh. You grin and continue your workout.

Simon tries not to be disturbed by the name “MacTavish” coming off your tongue for the first time since you met.

It’s your first mission since you’ve been back. You have new gear, a new handgun. Something’s been carved into the side of the barrel in Cyrillic, Simon can’t read it. A new callsign.

(“What kind of a name is Carry-on?” Johnny teases, but he doesn’t quite hide the unease in his eyes.

You snort and lace your boots tighter. The edge of you sleeve inches up, revealing the curve of a glossy scar that wasn’t there before.

“You’re one to talk Mister Maybelline.”)

Someone painted an upside down cross on the temple of your helmet with their finger. You thumb it before stuffing it over your head.

“You ready for this?” Gaz asks, knocking his knee into yours. The two of you have been paired together for this mission. (Was it Simon’s imagination, or did you look annoyed that you would have a partner?)

“Always,” you reply.

Simon doesn’t hear what happens, but Gaz looks shellshocked when you haul him into the helicopter during exfil. You shake him a bit once everything is secure and the bird’s in the air.

“Garrick,” you shout, “c’mon, where did he get you?”

It takes him a second but he blinks, offers his arm for your inspection. You move with a speed even Simon is impressed by, tearing into the nearby med kit almost viciously. Gaz is patched up in record time and you sit back with blood on your hands, barely even seem to notice as you wipe them carelessly on your pants.

(You used to be more squeamish, weren’t you? You used to be the last one they asked for medical care because seeing your teammates in pain made you nauseous.)

“What about you?” Gaz asks after a small eternity.

You yawn. “What about me?”

“You got nicked too, didn’t you?”

Simon takes a second look at you and now that Gaz mentions it, you’re soaked in blood. Wet patches on your vest, your pants, dripping down your boots. It takes him a moment to notice the tear in your thigh, shredded flesh visible when you rock with the wind turbulence.

“Did I?” you wonder, glancing down like you only just noticed it.

Johnny curses, reaches for you - but you wave him off.

“It’s just a scratch,” you reply. “Barely even feel it, no worries.”

Then why is it still bleeding?

When the team lands, you hop off the heli without so much as a wince. Droplets of blood lead all the way back to your room.

(When Simon asks Nikolai about the hand-etching on your gun, he says the word means “promise.”)

In the after-action report, your callsign isn’t “Carry-On.” It’s Carrion.

Laswell takes you off the mission two months later, a joint assignment with KorTac. They send three operators to work with TF141 - Stiletto, Konig, and Nikto.

On the transport to infil, Simon notices the Russian inspecting his handgun in a seat separated from the rest of the squad. He recognizes the Cyrillic carved into the barrel this time: Promise.

It’s an eerie, creeping suspicion. An anxious fog rolling in.

It’s not one single thing that trips an alarm in Simon’s head, but a steady collation of oddities over months. A single arhythmic beat, a note off key. Just once or twice, but over and over until he can’t notice anything else.

You act just like yourself except for all the minute ways you don’t.

You smile big and wide, sunshine bright, when they make a good joke. Your laugh is still the same, bubbling up in your throat, head thrown back. You smell the same when you pass Simon in the hall, shampoo and soap that’s haunted him for a year and a half.

It’s insidiously subtle; he can’t pinpoint what it is for the longest time. Your mannerisms are almost too practiced, the cadence of your voice too measured. A missing turn of phrase you often used, replaced by something unfamiliar.

Simon dismisses it as guilt-laden paranoia. The two of you ended on bad terms with a year and half worth of space between. He’s hardly one to gauge what’s normal for you anymore.

And besides, the few times someone else has noticed at those tiny yet all-too-obvious inconsistencies, you shrug it off as something you picked up while away.

But he catches Johnny’s brows furrow one afternoon as you light up a cig (after swearing for years that you’d never pick up the habit) and Simon knows he’s beginning to see it too.

“You ever notice,” Gaz begins slowly. You’re the only one missing from the rec room this evening, retired with a drawn-out yawn. “That Carrion always mentions being away, but never talks about it?”

Simon stills. Johnny’s eyes fly to Price, who’s grimly tapping at his crossword puzzle.

“The file’s redacted,” he says. He’s seen it too then, tried to investigate for himself.

“That’s normal for a mission like that,” Simon reasons carefully.

“I don’t mean the mission,” Price says. “I mean Carrion’s file.”

“This is a good movie,” you mumble from the armchair you’ve stolen from Price. “What’s it called?”

Simon exchanges glances with the rest of the team. No one points out that this is (used to be?) your favorite.

Price looks into the team you were loaned out to. All were KIA or remain MIA. All but one. His file has been scrubbed too, the only documents readable are discharge orders and a PMC contract, both associated with the callsign “Nikto.”

They’re running out of time.

Less than 36 hours on the clock with only one lead, and it’s a zealot with a suicide pact. Price and Laswell both took a crack at him with nothing to show for it. Even Ghost has gotten hardly anything and he’s running out of nails. With time, he might get something useful, but they don’t have much of that left.

In the anteroom looking into interrogation, you’ve been observing through the one-way glass with your hands in your pockets, head tilted, expression serene.

Price and Laswell are discussing strategy, contingencies. Gaz and Johnny are throwing in their two cents, but Simon… Simon is watching you.

Like medical, torture used to be your Achilles. You were trained like the rest of the team, but there was never any need for you to step into the room yourself. Hell, you were a last resort even for observation or emergency resuscitation. No one blamed you for having a weak stomach for information extraction.

But today, you glance over your shoulder and make eye contact with Laswell.

“I’ll handle it,” you say with an air of finality.

The room goes silent. Price opens his mouth, but it’s Laswell that speaks, voice hard with resignation.

“Do it.”

You don’t blink. “Yes, ma’am.”

You walk out the door without a backwards glance, shoulders loose but each step steady and purposeful.

“What the hell is going on, Kate?” Price demands.

Kate sighs, looks away as you enter the interrogation room.

“Let’s do this outside. It won’t take long to get that intel.”

The only thing she’s able to share is that you and your team were captured. For a long time. And then you’re already stepping out of the interrogation room, wiping your bloodied hands off on an old rag.

There’s an unusual glint in your eye, an unnatural stillness in your expression.

“Got what we need,” you announce cheerfully.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #angst #reader came back Wrong #simon riley

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inkdrinkerworld · 7 months ago

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can i request a girl flirting with spencer but he is too oblivious to understand she is flirting (bc of course he doesnt) so he keeps talking to her, and reader (they are dating) is FURIOUS and he is sooooo confused. i think it could be funny 🤭

post prison!spencer x sunshine!reader are out with the team when spencer gets sidetracked, you don't like that he is. 1.2k

You’re frowning into your long island iced tea. The entire team can see it and Luke is itching to make a comment. He also knows that despite your sunny disposition you might kick his shin under the table.

“You could always just go bring him back here,” Matt says, sipping his beer as he watches you burn holes into Spencer’s back.

You’re not jealous, no matter what any of them might imply.

“He’s a big boy. If he doesn’t want her flirting with him, he can just leave.”

JJ laughs into her drink, Penelope rolls her eyes as she chews her cherry and Emily shakes her head at you.

Spencer likely will remove himself from the girl if he doesn’t want to be flirted with- but since he’s been there for the last twenty minutes you suspect he isn’t as into you as they’ve all suggested.

It was silly of you to let your heart be captured by a man fresh out of prison you suppose. Your frown worsens at your thoughts, Spencer isn’t the ‘lead a girl on,’ type. Still you feel the hot and heavy sting of jealousy and something bitter settle in your chest.

“He’s still a bit awkward about this,” You roll your eyes this time. They all talk of Spencer like he’s a thirty three year old virgin. He isn’t. You know he isn’t because Penelope had informed you that he’d been in serious relationships before.

Not that you’d wanted to know.

When Spencer comes back, you’re itching for a game of cards and the rest of your team is itching for some sort of reaction from either of you.

It’s been clear over the ten months you’ve been working at the BAU, that you and Spencer have begun to orbit each other. You’re like Pluto and Charon. You bring each other breakfast, make each other’s coffee, you were even almost halfway in his lap on the jet the other day ‘doing crosswords.’ You really were doing crosswords.

They suspect you’re both just too oblivious (you) and frightened (Spencer) to do anything about the feelings everyone can see you have.

“Sorry I took so long,” though he says the words loud enough for the entire group to hear, his eyes are on you.

“Did you at least get her number?” You kick Luke in the shin then, earning a smirk from the man across from you. Maybe if you put salt in his protein powder he’ll relent.

“What?” Spencer asks, sipping his rum and coke. He brushes a curl of hair from his forehead, tucking it behind his ear.

You reach into your bag and pull out your sparkly deck of cards and shuffle them. “Oh are we doing readings?” Penelope asks, you don’t trust the peachiness of her tone.

“The girl from the bar.” Matt clarifies for Spencer, whose eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.

“Why would I get her number?” JJ looks at you with a, ‘do you see what we’re saying,’ look but you only shake your head.

You don’t care if Spencer did get her number or if he’d been flirting back with her. You’re not dating. You don’t care. At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

“She was flirting with you man.” Luke says and Spencer shrugs, leaning into you as Penelope takes the cards from you. They’re only playing cards, but she’s been trying to get you to read them as well as she reads tarot.

“Are you okay?” Spencer whispers in favour of a reply to Luke, eyebrows knitted together when you shrug him out of your space.

“Fine.” Emily chuckles which only worsens Spencer’s frown.

“Hey, what about this song?” JJ says, the entire group dispersing. Penelope is the last to go, leaving the ace of hearts face up on the table.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asks, hand reaching for your chin. You shake your head from his hand. Spencer feels burned.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine. I’m just enjoying a night out with my friends.” You make it a point to stress the word friends and Spencer almost flinches.

“I don’t believe you.” he says the words plainly. “Are you upset with me?” You turn to face him then, face stony, an expression on your face Spencer has never seen. Other than that day you were on the phone with your brother.

“Why would I be upset with you? You’re just the clueless thirty three year old everyone thinks can’t tell when a pretty girl at the bar is flirting with him.” Your words are hushed and low, your eyes dark in the poorly lit booth.

Spencer sighs, his shoulders reaching his ears before falling. “You’re jealous?”

You grumble, no point in hiding what is so very clear. “You flirt with me for ten months, and then you spend almost thirty minutes letting a stranger put their hands all over you and come back here like you didn’t know she was flirting? If you just wanted the attention you could’ve said so from the beginning, Spencer Reid.”

There’s no ‘Doctor,’ before his name that lets him know you’re being playful or funny. No, your words and your expression are the iciest thing he thinks he’s ever witnessed. You sound hurt more than anything and that makes Spencer’s heart crack right down the middle.

His hand reaches for your chin, turning you to face him. “I didn’t just want attention, you know that,”

You roll your eyes, “Oh do I?” Spencer likes this attitude on you, he can’t even pretend to lie to himself. He just doesn’t like the way you doubt him.

“I like you. You know I like you. Yes, the woman at the bar was flirting with me, but the conversation was being redirected. She was flirting with me till I told her I wasn’t interested and that I had someone waiting for me.”

You don’t believe him, “Took you twenty eight minutes to do that?”

Spencer smiles then, pressing his forehead into yours. “You’re worked up, sweet girl.” The nickname settles you a little. “It took me a little to catch on. I’ll admit it takes some getting used to from total strangers. But I didn’t enjoy her flirting with me if that’s what you’re really asking.”

Spencer’s thumb presses into the slight divot in your chin, your eyes stuck on his as he refuses to break eye contact. “I only want you to flirt with me.”

Your breath hitches, Spencer smiles. “You let her touch you.” He laughs at how petulant you sound, he knows your grip on your anger is slipping.

“Am I supposed to push her hands off me?” You nod and Spencer lets his nose run along your jaw. “You’re too much.”

Spencer doesn’t leave your side the rest of the night.

#spencerreid #spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x black reader #spencer reid x sunshine!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid x y/n #dr spencer reid

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ruinedsapphic · 1 month ago

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Sevika x ambessa where fighting turns into sex 💪😍😍

“GO EASY ON ME, WILL YOU?”

pairings: Sevika x Ambessa Medarda :3 (straight wuh luh wuh)

warnings: Sevika x Ambessa (I have no idea if people hate or like this ship), the ask says it all, fighting, mentions of blood, smut, fingering (s receiving), domxdom turns into forced submission, doomed yuri, all third person view, drinking, bottom/switch sevika + power dom Ambessa :333 I’m gonna cum I swear, intentional lower case so don’t even, not actual plot so… !!THIS IS REALLY LONG IDK WHY!!, it’s not finished.

sevika, the strongest woman in zaun was at the brothel, lord it’s almost like all the time she’s in it. but, she’s only in it to keep her mind off certain things. sevika took a sip from her drink, passing out the cards for the card game she always won in. Almost as if everyone at the table knew she was some sort of cheater at the game, as if she knew all the cards in everyone’s deck for some reason.

just from across, it was ambessa. the mother of mel medarda. ambessa watched the zaunite woman pass the cards around, her gaze flicking down to the mechanical arm and hand. the mechanics of the fingers tossing the cards and shuffling them before the game so easily. she scoffed to herself and downed herself a drink once again. “That woman is going to kill me by the end of this goddamn day.” she then got up.

were all pretty sure ambessa is the tallest woman in the brothel so far, beating sevikas height by 8 inches. though, to ambessa..she definitely had some feelings for the zaunite woman, who wouldn’t?

the brothel continued to roar shouts, music, laughter and all of that from the above. ambessa would be there for like whatever reason but she’s usually around town to try local cuisines.

“hey, girl with the arm.” ambessa said, trying to get the zaunite attention. her hand waving in the air, but when she didn’t actually get the woman’s attention, she got up, walking over to her. then the taller woman of color tapped on the woman sitting in the chair, sevika paused in her tracks, “yeah?”

well..not quite expected. ambessa noticed it was actually sevika herself; the woman who she had to deal with from years before and her eyebrow raised, “come with me.”

“I’m in the middle of a ca—“

“Did I stutter?”

the zaunite stood up with a sigh, she took a sip from her beer before leaving it on the table to get up, heading her way to follow the mother of the famous Mel Medarda. “see you soon,” She called back to her group and followed the woman like a lost puppy.

after a bit of walking around the brothel, they come to a final end and stand in front of each other before ambessa moved in and grabbed sevika by her cloak, her hands swiftly tearing it off. “you know I still remember you, no?” The zaunite woman fully sighed, she pulled her cloak back and covered her mechanical arm. “Almost like every other day you’re here to fight me.”

the only thing ambessa did was give off a smirk, “maybe I’m here to fight?” in which it resulted the zaunite to groan out, “you know I’m tired.” sevika would settle down into a chair, but ambessa didn’t even bother for her to sit, she was NOT giving this poor zaunite a break. “one day i better get a god damn massage, I don’t got all of my adult years to keep kicking asses”

ambessa pushed sevika a bit and snapped at her, “don’t try to change the topic, zaunite.” the taller woman briefly stated, sevika groaning again before pushing her back, “what are you even here for again?”

“Another rematch.”

“i’m tired.”

“another rematch.”

“but I’m- ugh.”

———————————————————————————

not even 30 minutes later the fight stopped, there was still ruthless cursing and yelling, swinging fights, cheers, people avoiding the fight and others cheering. occasionally sevika would dominate the fight first, grabbing the taller woman with both hands and pushing her down on the ground before grabbing her jaw, forcing the woman of color down on the floor to look right at her.

“you don’t learn the first time, no?” sevika asked, her mechanical hand gripping on ambessa’s chin as if demanding for an answer. the woman down on the floor was disheveled, a few cut marks across her lip and her clothes slightly torn, a small contrast from sevika who’s metal arm was completely full of scratches, her nose slightly bleeding but she wiped it off with the back of her hand. no they were NOT playing a cat fight .. “all you do is come around ask for anot—” sevika was briefly paused at ambessa grabbing the mechanical hand and pushing it away from her chin, grabbing the metal hand tightly and getting up, using her height as an advantage before roughly pushing sevika instead. sevika looked up at the woman with a raised eyebrow, “psh…again? seriously?” she scoffed, not wanting to take another fight but who said it was going to be another fight. “…meet me in the back when you’re done with those filthy games of yours. unless you most likely want yourself dead and open in the streets.”

———————————————————————————

“meet me in the back when you’re done with those filthy games of yours.”

sevika listened, maybe the only time she kinda did. she entered the back rooms and opened the door, looking around to find ambessa, walking forward into the room and settling down at the table before ambessa appeared just behind her, the woman pushing sevika down against the table, her front pressing firmly against sevika’s behind.

“..not again.” sevika tried to push herself back up but no!!!! ambessa was definitely not letting it happen. she leaned down to sevika’s ear from behind. the insane body build covering sevika by a lot. they were both muscular and packed but…it was the size difference. “how about a little game of..this? whoever submits first is the loser, yeah?”

Of course, sevika has never bottomed out with any partners especially in the brothel with all the ladies, but would she even handle ambessa? apart of her DEFINITELY said no, but the other half yes.

———————————————————————————

“g-go easy on me! will you?!” sevika squirmed, looking down at ambessa who’s literally eating the zaunite out, her rough hands gripping sevika’s thighs and keeping them firm and still. We definitely knew who the loser was.

ambessa’s tongue swirled around the sensitive nub, her tongue occasionally sliding down to meet her entrance and her fingers parting out her folds, also swarming the arousal from sevika all over the place. the session definitely had gotten sloppy and all messy. sevika face contorted with pleasure, her thighs shaking while TRYING her hardest to push the woman’s mouth off her. It had been orgasm after orgasm. She was never getting a break!! poor sevika :((

“I know..I’m just so, so mean to you..can’t even give you a poor break.”

She bit down on the woman’s inner thighs, making marks that were visible but not enough to inflict pain. sevika made out ragged breaths, tossing her head back on the chair while ambessa was still on her knees, sevika’s arm falling to her side and her other one covering her mouth to restrain her noises. I know damn well she was enjoying that .. her head was still thrown back while muffling out sounds, her throat full display while her adams apple was definitely there..bobbing every time she made out a muffled sound.

“killing me here..” sevika whined out and looked down, her back only arching just slightly, her chest heaving; her v line was literally covered in ambessa’s saliva and love bites. it was a top favorite part of sevika’s body ambessa herself enjoyed. “Killing you? Tsk, keep talking for me, yeah? give me some company while I ruin the fuck out this pussy.”

———————————————————————————

A.N: NO IM NOT FINISHED ACTUALLY BUT GUYS 😭😭💔 I NEED TO POST THIS CAUSE I NEED TO. ILL MAKE ANOTHER SOON BUT ITS 2 AM. SCHLAWG PLEASE CATCH ME A BREAK TOO ??? Caitlyn post soon guys..

#lesbian #sevika x reader #sevika #arcane #sevika arcane #arcane ambessa #ambessa medarda #ambessa league of legends #sevika league of legends #sevika x ambessa #ambessa x sevika #wuh luh wuh #wlw

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awearywritersworld · 1 year ago

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i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend

sukuna x reader summary: you persuade sukuna to play go fish. the two of you have a small disagreement (he really can't stay mad at you). he confides in you about his past as a sorcerer. w/c: 3.4k tags/warnings: the teeniest bit of angst. mostly fluff. banter. cursing. aged up!yuuji. slight yuuji x reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: the first section could be read as a brief(ish) stand alone. and for context, the world's shortest frankenstein synopsis: victor frankenstein brings a creature to life using dead body parts and thrusts him into a world he doesn't understand, then promptly abandons him and wishes him dead. alone and regarded as repulsive by every human he comes across, the creature begs frankenstein to create a wife for him too. when frankenstein refuses, the creature is further driven to hatred and violence. series masterlist // masterlist

"we should play a card game!" you exclaim as if you've just had the world's greatest idea.

"i'll pass."

sukuna sounds listless, like it's quite possibly the worst proposition he's ever heard.

"why's that? scared i'll beat you?"

"i'm opposed to mind numbing boredom, more like."

"you really need to expand your horizons," you suggest, making your way over to where you keep your playing cards. "all you do is read and brood."

"it's gotten me this far."

you don't respond, too busy rifling through your bookshelf. just as you spot your cards, a book catches your eye and you pull it from its place.

making your way back over to him, you drop it in his lap. "since you found jane eyre so insufferable, here's one you might actually like."

he surveys the cover, which reads: frankenstein or the modern prometheus

you take a seat across from him at the kotatsu table and shuffle the deck, while sukuna flips through the pages with new found intrigue.

"what's it about?"

"the dangers of playing god. should be right up your alley."

"your subtly never ceases to amaze."

"i'm just kidding." you laugh. "there's a lot more to it than that— revenge, loneliness, personal responsibility..."

he turns the book over. "it's written by a woman?"

you raise your eyebrows at him. "what, you don't think women have enough depth to write about those kinds of topics?"

"no, it was just an observation," he says off handedly. "you are evidence enough to the contrary."

he doesn't say it as a compliment, more so as a statement of fact. you hope your astonishment isn't written all over your face.

clearing your throat, you begin dealing while explaining the rules to him.

he takes up his cards and seems to understand the game after only a turn or two, but you're narrowing your eyes at him soon thereafter.

"go fish," he says for the fourth time in a row.

your gaze shifts down to his hands. there's just no way. "show me your cards."

"wouldn't that defeat the purpose of this stupid game?"

"not if you're cheating, now let me see."

"no."

you reach across the table, hoping to snatch them from his grasp, but he just holds them out of your reach.

swiftly rising to your feet, you launch yourself at him in a sad attempt to catch him off guard.

with only one arm extended, he easily fends off your attack. "do you actually think you have a chance here?"

you sink to your knees in defeat and sit with your legs folded beneath you. "not really, but i have to know if you'd stoop this low."

"that so? had you believed me to be above cheating?"

you gasp. "so you admit it?"

"i told you i didn't want to play," he deadpans.

"that doesn't mean you had to cheat! now we have to start over!"

he carelessly tosses the cards onto the table. "i don't think so."

"please?" you lean forward, jutting out your bottom lip.

he just stares at you with an air of disinterest.

sukuna can be so haughty sometimes, and frankly, it drives you a little crazy. you'd give anything to wipe that look from his face— to prove that he doesn't find this as miserable as he lets on.

leaning forward even further, your hands meet with the carpet to support your shifting weight. now he's watching intently as your face approaches his, your eyes flicking down to his lips.

unbeknownst to you, sukuna's breath catches in his throat once he sees your gaze shift, though his mind struggles to catch up. it happens so fast that he hardly registers the quick peck you place on his lips (though maybe it's not the speed of the occurrence, so much as his shock).

"please?" you repeat.

he looks off to the side and stays silent, though his demeanor is indicative of some heated internal debate.

sukuna can't let you win, not that easily. you'd be under the impression that you actually have power over him! and for what? some measly kiss?

no, he simply will not allow that. "i already told you—"

grabbing him by the chin, you cut off his words with another kiss, but this time it lasts a few beats longer. your lips don't move against his, they just linger there in a way that that makes him question whether all of the oxygen has vanished from the room.

when you pull away, you're looking at him expectantly with the same pout still playing on your lips.

"fine!" he barks, grumbling something afterwards that sounds a lot like "evil little minx."

"human earthworm two is definitely still the best."

you're walking home with yuuji after a late night showing of the newest movie in the series.

"no way," you contend. "this one was even better."

he gawks at you. "in no world is the seventh film in an anthology the best! you're crazy—"

sukuna's mouth appears, always eager for a chance to undermine his vessel. "she's right, brat."

yuuji can't believe his ears. "what?! you haven't even seen it!"

"i don't know," you interject slyly. "i'm willing to look past that. it really seems like he knows what he's talking about."

"you mean the guy who's existence predates cinema?" yuuji asks, his eyebrows furrowing as a thought occurs to him. "what'd you do all day anyway? watch plays?"

"..among other things, yes." sukuna answers.

"if you look at it logically," you reason, "we probably wouldn't have movies without theater, so we should definitely consider him an expert in this case."

"oh please, baby. when the topic is ancient civilization or being a homicidal maniac, i'll be sure to solicit his opinion then."

"i resent that," sukuna declares, his conviction forcing a giggle from your lips.

"why?" you question. "was it the part where he called you old as shit, or the part where he called you a murderous lunatic?"

yuuji brings a hand to his mouth to stifle a snort, but you're freely laughing now.

sukuna scoffs indignantly and bites back a comment about how partial you seem to be toward said lunatic. "and to think i defended your opinion."

his response has you clutching at your sides and struggling to see through teary eyes.

but perhaps karma is real, because not a moment later, you step off the curb in a way that sends a sharp sensation through your leg.

you gasp in pain and brace yourself for the impact of falling to the concrete, but it never comes. instead, you're left with fingers clamped tightly around your wrist and a strange sense of deja vu.

you turn your head just before the dark lines fade from yuuji's arm completely.

"tch, watch where you're going idiot," sukuna scolds, his mouth disappearing as soon as he finishes speaking.

"are you okay?" yuuji asks worriedly.

"absolutely," you claim, but when you try to put weight on your left foot, you let out a hiss.

yuuji's hands find your waist, hoping to keep you steady. before you know it, he's crouching in front of you with his back turned and beckoning you to wrap your arms around his neck.

once you do, he hooks his arms under your thighs and easily stands up. "this okay? you comfy?"

"yeah. i can't believe i just did that." you hide your face in the space where his neck meets his shoulder. "thanks, yu."

when you get home, yuuji sets you up on the couch with icepacks, heating pads, three different drinks, two different books, and the tv remote.

he still asks if you have everything you need several times, then kisses you sweetly before heading to bed.

around thirty minutes later, sukuna's leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.

"hey," you greet. your eyes never leave the tv, as you're privy to the slight tension between the both of you.

he skips the evening's pleasantries. "i could heal it, you know."

you finally turn to face him. "really?"

"of course." he rolls his eyes. "some of us can actually use reverse cursed technique."

"and you've just let me hobble around the past hour anyway?"

he shrugs. "you pissed me off."

you blink at him a few times, rubbing at your temples. "well what about now?"

"i don't know," he begins, making his way over to you. he towers over where you're seated on the couch, so you have to crane your neck to look up at him. "just doesn't really seem like something a homicidal maniac would do, but maybe if he were to receive an apology..."

you cover your face with your hands and groan. "i didn't say that. this is really something you should take up with yuuji—"

"i don't make a habit of conversing with the brat, so if that's the way you're going to be..." he turns on his heel and starts for the bedroom, but you grab onto his sleeve just before he's out of reach.

"wait. please don't go."

just like that, your words have his resolve crumbling and any of his lingering irritation ebbs away. he urges himself to stay strong though, especially after the go fish debacle.

when he doesn't speak, you let out a breath.

"i'm sorry, sukuna." he can tell right away that you're being entirely sincere. "i would never purposefully hurt your feelings. i only meant to tease you, but i can see how i was being mean."

are those... are those tears swimming in your eyes? are you in that much pain, or did he just make you feel that badly? in any case, he endeavors to remedy it immediately.

moving around the couch until he's in front of you, sukuna kneels between your legs. he grabs your left foot gingerly, situating it on his thigh before hovering his hand over top of it.

he sighs. "i don't care if you tease me and you weren't being.. mean." the words sounds so juvenile to him.

you weren't necessarily wrong either, goes unsaid.

well, he'd like to consider himself a little more sophisticated than 'maniac' would imply, but that's beside the point.

"then why are you upset with me?"

his jaw flexes as he tries to find the right words. "i would prefer you do that when it's just.. us."

"oh." realization dawns on you, as does another heap of guilt. you know he despises being trapped in yuuji's body, and you completely failed to consider how ganging up on him might make him feel. "i'm... fuck. i'm really sorry, sukuna—"

"stop apologizing," he urges you in a low voice. it's partly because what he just said makes him feel pathetic, but more than that, it's because the look of self reproach you're wearing is akin to a thousand needles in his chest. "it's fine."

he can't believe you're sitting there with so much remorse over a man like him because you... what? wounded his pride?

he probably deserves it anyway.

why should you give a shit when he's done things a thousand times worse, a million different times?

oh, right. because you care about him.

you can't see the cursed energy at play, but you can tell it's working as your pain begins to dissipate.

once he's finished, he carefully moves your foot to the floor and looks up at you. it's not unlike the way a person might gaze at one of the wonders of the world, like they're lucky to be there in the first place.

with the intensity of his gaze, it feels like he can see right into your head— read your every thought and pick apart every emotion. has anyone ever looked at you like that before? you're having a hard time remembering. you're having a hard time thinking of anything at all, really.

so it goes without saying that you don't think about it when you lean forward and kiss him.

it's not at all like when you were trying to convince him to play cards. no, this isn't light hearted or frivolous.

and it's not like the other two kisses you've shared either. it isn't heated or desperate, nor does it leave you gasping for air.

it's tender. it's so fucking tender, in fact, that sukuna wonders whether he's going to crumble beneath your touch.

he grips the area just above your knees, as if needing something to tether himself to before he withers away completely.

his lips move with yours in a way that's slow and careful.

your hands are on either side of his face, ghosting over his skin as a testament to your hesitance— like you're not certain if this is something he would want.

he wonders how in the world you could ever second guess yourself.

when you pull back, you examine his face for a moment before a small, shy smile tugs at your lips and you murmur, "thanks 'kuna."

he just peers at you wordlessly and it makes you nervous, so you attempt to fill the silence. "it feels so much better. a-and i'm sorry again abo—"

his hand finds the back of your neck, pulling your lips against his for a moment longer. "don't mention it, angel."

ever since you gave sukuna your copy of frankenstein, he's spent a decent portion of your nights together reading, his brows drawn together in concentration.

upon finishing, he stares at the page after taking in the final line: "he was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance."

he's deathly quiet and wearing some unreadable expression. his eyes seem far off.

you leave him be for a little while, as it's clear he's lost in thought, but eventually you grow a bit concerned. it's been nearly half an hour since he last moved.

"sukuna?"

he turns to you. "why did you think i would enjoy this particular book?"

you consider his question carefully, his mood evoking your own seriousness. "it's... elegant and tragic. i suppose i appreciate the moral grayness of it. why do you ask?"

"no reason."

"did you enjoy it?"

"yes."

"why?"

he ignores your question. "frankenstein— do you like his character?"

you can't help but feel like you're answering some sort of riddle. "i think he's foolish and arrogant, but i guess i pity him to some degree."

"and the creature?"

"i'm much more sympathetic toward him. he's very... complex and certainly less culpable for the events of the novel than his creator."

you're surprised when he laughs. "of course you would think that way."

and with that, he's flipping through the pages of the novel. you move to sit beside him and once he finds what he's looking for near the middle, he begins reading:

"remember, thou hast made me more powerful than thyself; my height is superior to thine, my joints more supple. but i will not be tempted to set myself in opposition to thee. i am thy creature, and i will be even mild and docile to my natural lord and king if thou wilt also perform thy part, the which thou owest me. oh, frankenstein, be not equitable to every other and trample upon me alone, to whom thy justice, and even thy clemency and affection, is most due. remember that i am thy creature; i ought to be thy adam, but i am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. everywhere i see bliss, from which i alone am irrevocably excluded. i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. make me happy, and i shall again be virtuous.”

his voice is strangely even, almost bordering on robotic. you're struck with the notion that he's attempting (with rare difficulty) to mask his emotions.

you regard him quizzically and wait for him to speak. the last thing you expect to hear tumbles from his lips.

"you know they called me the disgraced one?" you nod. "do you know why?"

"i know the story that sorcerers have passed down."

he hums. leaning back into the couch, he looks fixedly at the ceiling before continuing. "i was just a boy when i was orphaned and no one knew anything about my heritage, including me. jujutsu society took me in and raised me as a sorcerer."

"and you didn't care for it?"

"oh, quite the opposite. i reveled in it. my strength was unprecedented, that much was clear from the start. i surpassed my teachers with ease, and eventually, i took to training alone— reading primitive texts and honing skills that they couldn't teach me."

your hand finds his thigh, hoping to offer him some consolation before beckoning him to continue. "then what happened?"

"the men who had been my teachers, who had been the only.. family i'd ever known.. they scorned me. deemed me reckless and dangerous to jujutsu society. plotted my demise."

your voice is small when you ask, "were they right?"

he wants to hate the question— wants to hate you for asking it— but he knows that it's warranted.

"no. i admit i was forward thinking and a bit.. unorthodox, but i wasn't..."

"what they thought you were?" you offer gently.

he nods. "not until they made me that way— not until they abandoned me and backed me into a corner like some animal."

you struggle to find the right thing to say, if any such thing even exists. you're amazed that he's confiding in you, and while it makes your heart swell, you really don't want to fuck it up.

he looks back down at the book, his eyes scanning the paragraph before repeating, "i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend."

he says it as if he's coming to terms with the circumstances of his life for the very first time.

"the creature was remorseful at the end of the novel," you recall somewhat bravely. "are you?"

sukuna thinks for a great deal of time before replying. you wait patiently for him.

"no," he answers decidedly.

looking over at you for the first time since he began his story, he's relieved to find your face is free of rebuke. instead, there's a warm willingness to understand him. a sadness because of the way he was alienated.

he's curious whether anyone would be able to read the sentiment on your face, or if he just knows you better than most.

is that a privilege he's worthy of? he doubts it.

"you didn't deserve what they did to you," you whisper, reaching up to rake your fingers through his hair, nails grazing his scalp before your palm rests against his temple.

his head leans almost imperceptibly into your hand, and any regret or unease he may have felt at relaying his past to you disappears. watching a single tear slip down your cheek, he wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.

he means to say "don't cry. not for me," but the words die in his throat.

for once, your tears are for him rather than because of him and it's utterly riveting. the fact that someone like you would cry on his behalf seems to contradict every horrible thing he's ever been told about himself.

he could sit here and bask in the feeling forever— he's always known himself to be selfish after all. and you know it too, don't you?

his eyes flicker between each of yours, studying your face. "do you want to know why i don't regret the things i've done?"

you tilt your head to the side. "why?"

"because even if it's made me into a monster..."

for a moment, he contemplates not saying anything more. he considers forcing himself to pull away from your touch, even if it's the only comfort he's been given his entire life. he might still be able to salvage whatever tiny, laughable pieces remain of his pride—

"all of my actions have led me to you."

your eyes soften before you're wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your body to his. he returns the gesture after a few seconds pass.

you know he's awful. you know he's cruel. you know that what he's been through doesn't excuse his actions. but still— you want so desperately to take away his pain. to make up for all the things in his past. to wipe the blood from his hands.

as you embrace such an incredibly complicated man (one who is infamous for unrivaled wickedness, yet has his face buried in your hair), you ponder the creature's plea: "make me happy, and i shall again be virtuous."

a/n 2: if you're still w me, thanks for reading!! i'm not sure how i feel abt this part, so feedback is both welcome and appreciated!! also, how do we like sukuna using angel?? in my head he picked it up from the "my good angel" line in jane eyre, so i hope it doesn't seem too unnatural. alsoooo, highly recommend frankenstein. it's one of my favorite books!! mary shelley popped off and literally created the entire genre of science fiction at 21! anyway, thanks for all the love yall, it means the world<3

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @risuola @lirasmoon @disaster-rose @archivist-ghoul606 @creative1writings @sloppyzengarden @omismicrowave @cecesharktales @tanyeonn @hiqhkey @ruixrei @yellowsubiesdance @thefallofruins @anything-and-everything-here69 @emzalot @thepup356 @browneyedgirl22 @lantsovheiress // users in bold could not be tagged. if i forgot to tag anyone, my apologies!! just give me a heads up.

#m!writes #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagines #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagines #ryomen sukuna fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk fluff

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mellowwillowy · 1 year ago

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Yan! Gambler - Yan! Sponsor x GN Dom?Reader (NSFW)

—𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 - 𝑳𝑰𝒇𝑬 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕

Yan! Gambler who will fuck you on the damn game table with both your ankles resting beside his jaw. All cards and chips scattered, what were you even betting on? Right, a bet of who will be railed nuts.

Yan! Sponsor who sips down the wine that was served to him as he watches you ruined by him. Occasionally flicking your nipple while letting you sip on the wine as well, sharing it with him with a kiss.

"You pretty little thing, shouldn't have bet against Kai... you blew away all my chips."

"Oh shut up, you enjoy watching me wrecked either way."

"Eyes on me."

Yan! Gambler who hisses whenever you pay attention to the latter more than him, will drill into you even faster and harder just to keep your attention on him.

Yan! Sponsor who proposes the idea of playing a game of blackjack while the two of you fuck.

"Who'll be the dealer huh... wouldn't want anyone else seeing you naked."

"A game, you and me. Besides, what else can you bet on? Just be nice and wrap my cock with that cute little hole of yours yeah? I'll have a game with Kazuto first."

He mutters as he gives your cheek a peck, his hands rubbing your cheeks. Kazuto goes to open another brand new deck card, shuffling it swiftly before sliding it to him.

"The winner gets to fuck 'em yeah?" "Sounds fair enough."

The two of them play while you are endowed with the coiling pleasure that is settling in your stomach, you are close but all that ends the moment he pulls out. You figure he lost the bet with the other as he curses at him.

Kazuto cackles as he rounds his way toward you, examining your wasted body as he fingers you, his other fingers feeling your chest, "Be good for me okay?"

"Make it fast, I wasn't done yet."

He starts pumping his fingers in and out fast, scissoring it open before he slides his erected cock out of restraints, lining the tip in front of your gaping hole.

"That's why you should have just folded, pretty boy."

Kazuto slams his cock into you in one motion, making you moan out of surprise, adapting to his shape and length. The latter only grumbles as he pours himself another glass of vodka, gulping it down like a madman while he watches the two of you, his cock still hard and in need of relief.

You pity it, and so you beckon him to come closer. No, it is more of an order, "Come."

He rounds himself close to your face and your hand holds his cock, lightly pumping it while your lip kisses his angry tip, giving it a tease by occasionally licking it.

"Who's a good boy hm?"

""Me."" The two speak in union before glaring at each other.

You chuckle at them before you roll your hips around Kazuto's length, igniting a moan out of him. You waste no time in pampering Kai's cock as well, wrapping his shaft with your mouth while your legs are wrapped around Kazuto's waist.

Kai hesitates a bit before using your hair as a lever, chasing his own pleasure greedily. You bite his member lightly, reminding him to be mindful of his actions. The state shared between the three of you is clear now, who is leading and who is being led.

You pull away just before he gets to come, edging him by rubbing his head, eyes trained onto the other man. "How's my little mutt doing down there? Need me to ride you instead?"

"N-no, ahhn..." Kazuto shudders as he blushes from the moan that slips out of his lip. You merely smirk at him as you rock yourself on his length, your forearms holding your whole weight as Kai rubs one for himself.

"Be a good boy yeah? Sponsor me more so that I can bust it even more in these dumb games yeah?"

"Wh-whaa-? Wait, urgh- wait, I said wait! Akh-!" You yank his face toward yours by the collar of his shirt, slamming your lip into his while greedily feeling his chest, "Ya' think ya' get to make me wait?"

Not wanting to lose, Kai butts in and licks your face before you allow him to feel your mouth with a kiss, tongues swirling against each other while your hand pinches his nipple, giving him more stimulation.

"Come on boys, cum all over me now yeah?"

Just from your words, granting them permission to come, they start to chase their own pleasure at a more feverish pace. Rope of cum spluttered on your face while the other comes inside you, making your inside feels warm. You groan at how it is splattered on your hair as well, "Fucking aim, skill issue boy?"

"I don't know. You just look prettier that way."

"Don't say something that you will regret, I'll fucking return it to you twice fold."

Kazuto peppered your face with kisses as though he is trying to calm you down, his softened cock still resting inside you. "Now now, how about we play for another round?"

"Sure, I'll make sure you two can't sit anymore once I win."

And you sure are a person of words.

-- Crack

Yan! Sponsor: Please, have a seat.

NPC: ??? Why aren't you sitting down sir?

Yan! Sponsor: I suppose standing is one way of living a healthy lifestyle?

NPC: *visible confusion*

Yan! Delinquent: Cmon' pal, we are heading out.

Yan! Gambler: ...with a bike?

Yan! Delinquent: Well what else you shithead? On a cock? A stap-on?

Yan! Gambler: I'm passing that.

They are like, the second oldest Male casts in LIfE Pro (after Yulian) and the least favored one ffs. Just gonna drop this snippet here as some sort of memorial for them ☆ﾐ(o*･ω･)ﾉ

#yandere male #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere headcanons #yandere works #yandere smut #yandere writing #reader insert #x reader #oc #x gn reader #yandere husband #LIfE Project

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swappermanent · 1 month ago

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Reverse Inheritance

The first time Leo told me he could astral project, I didn't think much of it. My grandson had been living with me ever since his father—my son—went to prison, and though he was 20n now, he still had that same wild imagination he'd had as a kid.

Just last month, he'd been on about reincarnation, saying he remembered fragments of past lives. And before that, he was convinced our neighbor was running a smuggling ring out of his garage. Normally, I didn’t mind letting him ramble on. But lately, I was starting to get a bit tired of it.

Today, however, Leo seemed particularly insistent. “I’m serious, Grandpa. I can do it. Astral projection. It’s real.”

I scoffed. "Alright, then. Let’s do a little experiment."

"Sure, what kind of experiment?"

I reached over to a drawer and pulled out an old deck of cards, shuffling them a couple of times until I was satisfied. I fanned the cards out, then carefully picked one from the middle, holding it up so only I could see. “If you’re telling the truth, you should be able to ~float out of your body~ and go behind me to tell me what this card is,” I challenged, leaning back.

Leo took a deep breath, closing his eyes. His breathing slowed, his shoulders relaxing in a way I’d never seen before. For a second, I actually thought he might’ve fallen asleep. But then, with his eyes still closed, he whispered, “Eight of spades.”

I froze. Placing the card face up on the table—the eight of spades.

I forced a laugh. “Lucky guess. Let’s go again.”

Leo gave a small shrug and smirked. “Alright. Let’s.”

I shuffled the deck again, this time picking a card off the top. “Alright, wise guy,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “What is it?”

He closed his eyes again, barely a few seconds this time. “Three of hearts.”

I looked down at the card, and my stomach did a small flip. “Alright,” I said, trying to mask my surprise. “That was another good guess, I’ll give you that. Let’s see if you’re really up to it.”

This time, I picked three cards at once, spreading them face down on the table. “No way you’re getting all of these right,” I muttered, almost to myself.

But a few seconds later, He rattled them off without a second thought. “Queen of diamonds, five of clubs, ace of spades.”

I looked at each card in my hand, and they were all correct. My jaw dropped, and I couldn’t hide it. “Shit… wow,” I breathed. “Alright, kid, you got me. I believe you.”

Leo’s eyes opened, and he gave me a small, satisfied smile. “You want me to teach you how?”

My heart was pounding a little faster than usual. “You think I could?” I asked, half-joking but more curious than I wanted to let on.

Leo leaned forward, his face serious. “Yeah. But you have to really want to do it. Like, let go of everything. All those thoughts that keep you grounded here.”

"Let go of everything…" I repeated.

---

Over the next few weeks, Leo patiently taught me to master astral projection. At first, it felt like some sort of strange meditation. But gradually, I learned how to slip out of my physical body, just as Leo did, until I could stand beside myself, looking down at the slouched figure.

Each session, Leo and I would push the boundaries a little more. We couldn’t go too far since our astral projections only seemed to last about four hours at a time, and even then, we couldn’t travel much faster than a brisk jog. But I was fine with that; I wasn’t interested in dashing across the city, only in seeing how far I could push this strange new freedom.

When we’d reach the end of our limit and weren’t back in our bodies yet, something bizarre would happen. Our astral selves would start to get get pulled back, as if our bodies had a magnetic force calling us home. Those first few times, it was disorienting, hurtling back through space until I snapped back into my skin, breathless, my heart pounding. Leo explained that it was the body’s way of keeping us tethered, that if we stayed out too long, our astral forms would dissipate like smoke, and we’d cease to exist.

“Cease to exist?” I asked him one night, feeling the weight of that warning.

Leo nodded, his face solemn. “I haven’t pushed it that far, Grandpa. And I don’t think we should. The pull back gets stronger the closer we get to that limit. But if we ignore it…” He shrugged, letting the words hang in the air, dark and final.

Still, despite the risk, I found myself craving these nightly adventures. For the first time in years, I felt alive, truly alive. As someone who’d all but resigned myself to the slow, tired rhythms of old age, it was thrilling. But as our nights stretched on, I started to wonder about Leo’s fascination with this skill. He was young; he didn’t have a curfew, he didn’t have an old, weary body holding him back. He could be out living his life instead of hovering in ghostly form around the house or strolling through empty streets with his old grandpa. What was he getting out of this?

One night, as we settled into our chairs to begin our ritual, I glanced over at Leo’s body. He’d gotten comfortable, his head tilted back, his breathing already slowing, his eyelids fluttering shut. It struck me how young and full of life he looked, even when he was so still. I felt an odd pang of longing, a desire that surprised me in its intensity.

When had I last felt young? Truly young, without the weight of decades pressing down on my shoulders? What would it be like to feel like that one more time, to feel that boundless energy I saw in Leo.

As Leo’s breathing grew steady, his astral self drifting beside me, I looked back at his empty body, sitting there, vulnerable and untouched. The thought tugged at me, and for a moment, I felt an almost irresistible urge to reach out, take his body for myself just for one fleeting moment

---

The idea had been lingering in the back of my mind for weeks now. Every time I saw Leo drifting out of his body, the temptation grew a little stronger.

He was shy about his body, sure, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that felt like a betrayal somehow, slipping into him without asking. But there’s no way he’d ever say yes. Besides, I would be in and out before he’d ever know, right?

Finally, I gathered the courage. One evening, Leo announced he was heading out and asked me to join. “I’ll be back in a couple hours, wanna come with,” he said with a grin as he leaned back, his breathing slowing as he began the process.

I shook my head no, feigning sleepiness. “I’ll stay in tonight,” I replied. “I could use the rest.”

As his body drifted to sleep, I waited, counting each minute until I was sure his astral form was far enough away. Then, with my heart racing, I initiated my own astral walk and hovered towards his body .

A deep anticipation rushed over me as I prepared to enter. “Just a half hour, tops” I told myself.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to slip in as gently as possible. But something was wrong. As soon as I began, it felt as if I were pushing against a wall. I couldn’t just slide in like I usually did with my own body. I adjusted my position, aligning myself more carefully with his form, and tried again. This time, I felt a bit of give, and gradually, I was able to push through, inch by inch.

First my legs merged with his, then my torso. I felt the strength in his muscles as I took on his form. I kept pushing, my hands now matching his, aligning, filling out his arms, until finally, my head was nearly there, just hovering over his own.

But then, out of nowhere, I saw Leo’s astral form float towards me from across the room, his face a mixture of shock and fear. Me entering his body must’ve attracted his astral form back as a defense mechansim. Panic flared within me. If he re-entered his body while I was halfway in… I didn’t even know what would happen, but I didn’t want to find out. Before he could reach me, I shoved my head down, slipping fully inside.

---

I blinked, and when I opened my eyes again, I realized I was fully conscious—inside Leo’s body. My vision felt sharper, my muscles responsive, and as I looked down, I took in his smooth, toned arms, the strength and youth radiating through every limb. It was exhilarating.

I hopped up, feeling the lightness in my step that I hadn’t felt in years. Each movement was effortless, as if my body itself had forgotten what it meant to be heavy. I walked around the room, flexing his hands, rolling his shoulders, feeling every inch of youth as it coursed through me.

But then I felt something odd—a light tapping on my stomach, almost like a faint punch or a persistent nudge. Instinctively, I flexed Leo’s abs, the sensation dulling a bit, and that’s when it hit me. That tapping—that was Leo, trying to get his body back.

“Leo…” I whispered, feeling a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry, kid. I’ll be out soon, I promise.”

I let myself enjoy the feeling of his body, each sensation crisp and vivid. As I explored myself, I felt a familiar tension grow in my pants, one that I hadn’t felt in years. Instinctively, I reached down to my waistband and grabbed down to tug at my new, surprisingly hairy ball sack. That was enough to get my cock to throb.

I began stroking my new, uncut cock while feeling up my smooth torso with my other hand. As I did, my mind wandered to all the hot guys I could pull in this body if Leo ever let me borrow it again. Concentrating on that thought was all it took to send me over the edge. Slowly and sensually tugging at my shaft, I spurted all over my chest, completely draining mysefl.

Finally, as I lay back into the bed, a wave of satisfaction washed over me, leaving me feeling both exhilarated and calm. The room was warm and quiet, and with the last bit of energy fading from me, I felt a sudden drowsiness settle in. I lay down, and before I could convince myself to leave, I drifted into sleep, enveloped in the softness of youth and the quiet of Leo’s room.

I jolted awake, my heart racing as I felt hands gripping my shoulders, shaking me roughly. Blinking in confusion, I looked up—and there was my old, familiar face, creased with panic and rage, staring down at me.

“What the hell did you do?” he demanded, his voice hoarse and furious.

It took me a second to process, my mind still foggy from sleep. I tried to sit up, disoriented, and felt the youthful energy of Leo’s body springing into action, as if the night hadn’t worn it down in the slightest.

“What…” I managed, words failing me. But he kept going, too upset to wait for me to catch up.

“I had no choice but to take your body,” he said, his voice laced with frustration. “Otherwise, I’d have just… disappeared. Astral projection doesn’t work for body swapping. That’s not how it’s supposed to go. I never told you that because I didn’t think you’d ever try something like this.”

The full weight of his words settled over me, each one hitting like a cold punch. “So… we can’t just switch back?”

He shook his—my—head, a bitter smile flashing across his face. “No. There's a refractory period before we can attempt any switch again. It’s designed to prevent exactly what you just did. We’d have to wait ten years before we could even try to go back.”

“Ten years…” I repeated, the words sinking in like stones in my stomach. My old body—now his—was 90. I knew my own heart, knew how every joint ached, knew how every year was harder than the last. The odds of it lasting another decade were slim to none.

The guilt knotted in my chest, sharp and sour. I opened my mouth to apologize, to try to explain, but the words caught in my throat. What could I even say?

But then, unbidden, a different thought crept in. In ten years, this body would be 30. That meant I had Leo’s—my entire 20s to live again, the years I’d once cherished and missed deeply. I looked down at my youthful hands, the strength and vitality I could feel coursing through every inch of Leo’s body, and felt a strange, conflicted thrill rise within me.

He must’ve noticed the shift in my expression, because his face—my old, familiar face—darkened. “Are you… are you happy about this?” he whispered, incredulous.

I shook my head, trying to fight the feelings rising up within me, but they were relentless. The shame of it burned hot, yet I couldn’t deny the excitement simmering just beneath.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my expression steady. “Leo,” I said softly, but I didn’t know how to finish.

He watched me, a flash of betrayal in his eyes as he seemed to understand, even without me saying it. And then, with a bitter laugh, he turned away.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror across the room. Fuck, this’ll be fun.

#Isaac Cole Powell

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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago

Text

being bad and looking good.

2.8k, raider!Joel (dark) x f!reader | Raider Master SUMMARY: You look hot but get punished for acting up. WARNINGS: I8+ dubcon unsafe P in V, possessive Joel, creampie, manhandling, angst, joel makes you cry, rough, spanking, choking. He's a bad guy, not a kink practitioner: no rules. He cares, and you enjoy the dique, but you're captive. A/N: HYPOTHETICAL because I didn't want to figure out where to place it in the timeline. Set vaguely in the past. This is for a lingerie ask as well as readers who have requested feral/mad Joel or sweet pea being bad. @javier-penas-wifexx420 @arcanefox207 IMMERSABILITY: Reader has hair that can be held/pulled. Joel can lift reader. Reader has no height/size, so fill in the blanks for whether he has to bend his knees to enter you, etc.

Joel lets it slip how close the abandoned mall is, and you can't stop thinking about going there. You want to get something for him. He always brings you things and you never have anything to give him other than food you've foraged and flowers for the trailer. One day, you insist it would be fine with Joel if you go to the mall. You make it sound like you've discussed it. Carter is skeptical, but he feels bad for you. He finally breaks down and agrees to take you.

When you're there, you're walking through the mall and notice Carter's head turn all the way toward a particular storefront as you walk by. You wouldn't have noticed it otherwise. He keeps the same stride, but you slow down to look.

It's a lingerie store. Most of the mannequins are bare or have clothes hanging off them, but there are huge, fading posters with women of all shapes and sizes sporting lace teddies, babydolls, bralettes, strappy garters, and the floor is littered with them.

Carter sighs when he realizes you've stopped at the store.

As he slowly walks back to you, scratching the back of his neck, you ask, “Do you think Joel would like it if I had something from here?” The question feels almost rhetorical, but there's that bit of insecurity, too.

“Uh, I dunno. Sure, I guess.” Carter doesn't seem comfortable. He agrees to let you go in for just a minute to see if you find something, but you have to stay in view. And you think you do. It's a two piece with a sheer, strappy top. The bottom is more modest than a thong, but it has a slit in the crotch that makes you clench your thighs together thinking about Joel.

—-

When you get home, you put it on in the bathroom so you can look at yourself in the mirror. You think it looks good, but it's not a full-length view. And you're not quite sure if it's fitting right. How much tit is supposed to be showing? How tight should it be? You put the flannel back on, but leave it open when you come out. You feel a little more covered than you are, since the nature of the fabric shows a lot.

Carter's sitting at the kitchen table casually shuffling a deck of cards. He looks at you for only a split second before his face hardens, and he abruptly looks away. “Jesus,” he drops the cards on the table, and the chair groans against the floor as he stands up. “The hell are ya doin’?” he awkwardly turns around, pulling up on his pants a little.

“I just wanna know if it looks-”

“--'m sure it looks great,” Carter runs his hands through his hair in distress as he looks out the window. Then, he tightly crosses his arms, and they stretch his sleeves even more. “Now get outta here,” he tells you. He rocks forward onto his toes, then back, waiting for you to leave.

Is he mad? You step further into the kitchen and try to meet his eyes in the reflection.

His voice is stern. “Go put some goddamn clothes on.”

“Sorry, I wasn't–”

“Now.” He means it. You stand there stunned for a moment with your lip quivering. He's never been angry at you before.

“NOW.” He points toward Joel's room, veins bulging on his hand and arm. He doesn't turn around to look at you, but you see the flush from his cheeks creeping onto his neck and ears.

You go to your room and sniffle as you button the flannel. Then you put on a pair of shorts, curl up on the bed, and cry.

–

After a few minutes, there's a soft knock on the bedroom door. “Ya’okay?”

You only sniffle, “I'm sorry,” in response.

Carter sighs. “I shouldn'ta snapped at ya, darlin’. But ya just – can't do that, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Shit, you're a pretty girl, okay? But it ain't my business how ya look. . .in somethin’ like that.”

“. . .I know, I wasn't thinking.”

“Now, if you're dressed and wanna play rummy, I’ll deal. . .”

You smile to yourself through your tears.

—--

You dry your eyes and come out to the kitchen, but something in the air is different as you pull out a chair and sit down.

“Carter, please forget it,” you plead and try to get him to look at you. It feels like you broke something.

He finally makes eye contact and forces a little smile. Then he concentrates on the cards as he deals. “Two, two, three, three,” he counts the cards out loud for each of you as he deals. He finishes, and while you're studying the hand you’re dealt, it's quiet. In the corner of your eye, Carter's gaze falls to your now fully-covered chest, but he quickly pulls his eyes away and looks straight down, fidgeting with his cards. You feel awful. What if he can’t look at you the same? It was stupid to try to show him. Of course it would look good to Joel, he likes everything on (and off) you.

______

When Joel gets home, you're in the bedroom alone, sitting on the bed in the lingerie and flannel. As he enters through the kitchen, his boots are heavy on the linoleum. Your heart races with a moment of doubt - how are you going to explain this? But he bursts in the room grumbling, “goddamn Harold, tryin’ to get us all killed.” He takes his shirt off over his back, tosses it to the laundry, and looks at you. He pauses and devours the view for a few seconds before he slowly approaches, chest heaving.

He looms over you as you sit on the bed. He uses both hands to nudge the flannel off your shoulders, and it pools behind you. You take your arms out of it. He grabs a tit and rests his other hand on the nape of your neck, thumb brushing the curve of your skull. His chest lets out a low growl as he feels you. Then his fingers trail up the strap on one shoulder. He plucks it and it snaps against your skin.

Joel’s face darkens as he asks, “Where’d it come from?” When you don’t answer fast enough, his hand traces up your throat. A chill spreads across your chest. His thumb brushes the side of your neck, then slides over to lift your chin and make you look at him. “Where.”

“I wanted to do something you’d like.”

“Where,” he repeats, then clenches his jaw, waiting.

“You said the mall wasn’t far, so–”

He raises his voice. “You went to the mall? Where was Carter?”

“It’s okay, he was there, even found a part for the van in the parking lot.”

Joel’s nostrils flare, and he grips your jaw. “Carter took you to the mall.”

Your eyes water with panic. “No, it wasn’t his idea--”

“To buy somethin’ like this.”

“I wanted to get you something. I didn’t know they had this stuff —”

“He's got no business takin’ ya anywhere. And sure as hell not somewhere sexy.”

You're worried for Carter and grateful he’s not around. “I swore the mall was okay, that you wouldn’t mind. I didn’t know there was somewhere sexy,” your voice trails off.

Joel shakes his head, nostrils flaring. “You don't say what's okay. You don't KNOW what's okay. Get up.”

He forces you to your feet then turns you around.

“I thought you'd like it,” you sniffle. “You always do things for me.”

“He grabs your ass, lifting your butt cheek and lets it drop. He clicks his tongue. “well, I sure don't like how ya got it.”

“I'm sorry”

“Think ya need a reminder who's in charge here.”

“I know,” you sniffle in agreement, sensing what's coming. He sits down on the bed and manhandles you into lying face down over his knees. You feel a twinge of arousal even before he shifts your position and your hip brushes the hard shape in his jeans.

You hold your breath as he brings his hand back, then it lands with a sting and you yelp at the force. You bury your mouth in your arm as he brings his hand back again. He repeats it on the other cheek and you let out a muffled whimper that sounds more aroused than you should be.

“Like bein’ bad?” He asks, then spanks you again.

“No.”

His hand lands with a sting one more time and stays on your skin to grab the plush of your burning skin. “Ya like this?”

“. . .I dunno,” you whimper, unsure of the right answer.

He feels between your legs, his thick finger finding a damp slit in the cotton crotch of the lacy underwear. He slips a finger inside the garment, giving you a shock of need when his knuckle nudges your dripping hole. “Ya do, don't ya? Get up.” He grabs your arm and stands up, forcing you to your feet. He holds your hair and stares you down sternly. “This ain't for fun, baby, it's your safety” He lets go of your hair and looms closer. “Understand?”

You nod and reflexively back up. Something tells you it's not just about your safety.

“AND Carter's. You tryin' to make me hurt’m?” He asks. Joel gets closer and you keep backing up toward the wall.

“No,” you sob. “Please don't. He’s good, so good, he wouldn't even look at me. He respects you so much”

A new rage flashes across Joel's face and he lowers his voice. “He wouldn't . . .even . . .look at ya,” he mutters too calmly for your comfort. He takes a deep breath, looks you up and down again, puts his hand on your chest, fingers spread wide, and walks you harshly into the wall. His bare chest heaves. ”But ya gave him the chance, didn't ya,” Joel nods. You've dug your hole so much deeper.

“I was only thinking about–” Joel’s hand comes to your neck as you croak out, “--you.” You don't know what you were thinking. Joel doesn't either. He slowly shakes his head, nostrils flaring.

He pins you with his hips, and his hard cock digs into your front, making you gush.

“Forget who ya belong to?”

“No,” you whimper. “I’m yours.”

He pulls his hips back and quickly unfastens his pants. You bite your lip to keep from moaning at the sight of his cock. It nudges under the bottom hem of the lingerie top to reach your body. You feel his skin hit your lower belly, and it makes you weak with desire. “Only wanna be yours.”

He kicks your feet apart to spread your legs, and he brings his lips to your hair. “Then ya do what I say. Understand?”

“Yes sir,” you whisper, then he shoves his hand between your legs, using two fingers to spread the slit in the fabric of the crotch.

“‘s’for your own good,” he adds.

He nudges the slit with his cockhead. The fabric doesn’t open wide enough, so he rips the slit more, then you feel his tip at your wet little hole. He holds his cock in line, then grabs your ass and shoves up into you all at once, bottoming out. The force makes your back and shoulders drag up the wall. With your feet now off the ground, your knees bend, cradling his hips. He holds you by your ass, adjusts your weight, and your back is against the wall. You balance your arms around his neck. His thick cock retreats then punches into you again.

He's so thick, each time he pushes in, it feels like he’s taking up your whole body. He’s not looking at you; he’s looking past you. The grip of his fingers hurts enough to feel good, to feel his desperation, how much he has to have you–for him and only him.

He grunts and growls and breathes heavily, stomach heaving against you. “You're mine, sweet pea.”

“I am,” you agree.

“No one else can have ya.” His words get broken with the force of his thrusts. “No one else can see ya.”

“I know.”

You moan as he buries his length in you roughly, and he mutters “goddamn,” tightening his grip on your ass. You’re overwhelmed by the fullness of his cock, his skin against yours, his breath in your hair, his body pinning you there. All of it makes your insides swell with mounting pleasure.

“I love being yours,” you pant.

He fucks you in relative silence for about two minutes, the room filled only with the sounds of his brutish grunts and unbridled sighs, your little moans and whimpers, and the squelch of his stiff cock pumping in and out of your dripping cunt.

He adjusts your weight and looks down at your body from time to time, letting your upper back rest against the wall as he rails into you. You’re reassured that he likes the fit, at least. Your legs wrap loosely around him.

The pressure in your lower belly builds with each grunt, each thrust of his cock. Soon, his breath becomes shaky and the drag of his cock quickens. Then he bottoms out sharply with a groan, drawing a sigh from you as he begins to pulse. He thrusts into you slower, more controlled, and you rock slowly against the wall. The rhythmic swell of his shaft within your walls and the warm seed spilling from his tip make you clench around him. You moan his name, tighten your legs, and he sighs as your cunt chokes his cock.

When his balls are empty, he slides out, and the fabric pulls with his cock as he withdraws and lets you down to the floor.

—-

Joel sighs, crams his wet cock into his pants, and fastens them again.

“You okay?” He asks, catching his breath.

“Yeah,” you mutter. “Where are you going?”

“Gonna pay Carter a visit, down at the house.”

“Please, Joel, it was all my fault,” you beg. “Don’t do it.”

“Ain’t gonna kill’m. This time.” You still don’t like the look on his face.

You follow him across the room, reach for his arm, and your fingers land lightly on his inner elbow. He pauses, still without his shirt on, and looks down at your hand on his elbow. He turns around, reads your face, then goes over to the bed without a word. He sits and manspreads. “I was desperate to make you happy,” you plead, fidgeting with the hem of your top.

Joel scrunches his face. “Ya do make me happy, sweet pea.”

“He didn't even wanna take me,” you insist.

“Then he’s gotta learn to say no.”

You hesitantly come closer, unsure if he’ll turn you away, but he lets you between his legs, then you sit on his thigh and keep fidgeting with the hem of your top.

“He says no all the time,” you assure Joel.

“Does he,” Joel mutters skeptically.

“I made it like he would've been saying no to you.”

Joel shakes his head, looking at your mouth. “That ain't right, but he knows better, baby.”

“He yelled at me,” you offer, hoping it doesn't make things worse.

Joel's brow furrows and his tone sharpens. “Ya gotta stop lyin’, now. It's pissin’ me off.”

“I'm not! He was mad.”

“Oh yeah? What'd he yell?”

“Told me to go away and put on some clothes.”

Joel’s chin lifts to look at the ceiling and he takes a deep breath, then looks at you. “What the hell got into ya, huh?”

“I dunno,” you mumble. “Feel like I'm going crazy, stuck here all day.” Joel looks at you. “But you take good care of me,” you clarify, “and I love it here.”

But that’s not what Joel’s thinking about.

“Wanna fuck him? Suck his dick?”

“No!” You're on the verge of tears again. “God, Joel, please don't talk like that.” Your face is scrunched up in pain.

“Then don't act like it.”

“I was–okay, I get it.”

Joel is quiet for a few seconds, then asks, “What if I told ya to suck his dick?”

“No!”

“You'd say no to me?”

“I’d ask if I really have to.”

Joel's face slowly softens, like you found the only acceptable answer. “And why’s that?”

“Cause I only want yours.”

“Hm,” Joel nods.

“Please, Joel. Stay here, don't go to him. . .you can talk to him tomorrow.”

You put your arms around Joel's neck and study his pensive face. Then you bury your head in his neck and whisper “Sorry.” His hand slowly comes to your back. You dip your head and lightly brush your lips against his collar bone, then return your face under his jaw, and he nestles his head over yours. Your wet lashes blink against his skin, and his hand slowly slides on your back. Somehow, it feels like more comfort than you deserve.

“Ok, baby,” he whispers and wraps both arms around you.

----------

if you wanna know whether Carter sees sweet pea that way, check out he's only human.

----------

Their present-day story will continue, but I don't have an ETA, sorry. Unless the next one gets split up, it'll have fluff, two moods of smut, angst.

I appreciate all your comments that let me know what you enjoy and what curiosities you have. Thank you so much for reading, and thanks for your support. Love you all.

tag list - : @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading @rainstorms-library

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#dark!joel miller #joel miller x reader #cw dubcon #raider!joel miller #joel miller smut #raider!carter #toxicanonymity ☠️#raider!joel #pedro pascal characters #possessive!joel miller

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januaryembrs · 7 months ago

Note

Bugsy and Spencer tea!!

the one with the card counting | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader

description: Bugsy and Spence quarrel while playing Old Maid

length: 700 wds

set in the trouble almost all my life universe

“Spence, I love you, but if you try card counting in Old Maid one more time, I’m not speaking to you for the rest of the flight,” Bugsy snipped, staring down at the man over their deck of cards, his hazel eyes narrowed and concentrated as he flicked through his hand. The joker card glared down at him from the dead centre, where he’d strategically placed it so she’d be more likely to take it when her turn came, though he’d been unsuccessful so far.

She didn’t need to see his lips to know he was chewing them in frustration, eyes darting between the pile on the table of already used hands, the rest of the deck they were picking up from, and how many cards she had in her hand.

“I’m not, and even if I was, it’s just math,” He replied in a defensive tone, knowing she’d already caught him out as he looked up at her, the red back designs fanning over her mouth and nose, though her annoyed expression was still clear as day to him. For a guy who rarely understood what people meant until they spelled it out verbally for him, Bugsy had always just seemed to make sense in his head, “I’m not cheating,”

He said it like someone who was trying to convince himself it was true, his eyes as innocent and none threatening as they would go, though he got that little notch between his brows that said he knew exactly what he was doing and felt bad for lying to her.

Huffing, she drew her cards to her chest and setting her elbows on the table, Hotch to her left with an amused smile drawing at his lips as he tried to catch some sleep on the way home from a case, though the sound of the two agents bickering gave him some inflight entertainment at least.

“Oh, really?” She asked, daring him to repeat himself even though saying it the first time had been hard enough, and Spencer simply nodded with a small ‘Mhm’, “Alright, smart guy, if we’re playing it like that then I’m taking this card,” Bugsy said, pulling the ace of spades he had sitting beside the joker with a pointed look on her face, “And the reason I want this one and not the one next to it is because I know that's where you put the old maid,”

Spencer swallowed, the tip of his nose turning a blush, as he grit his teeth together in annoyance, “I guess the joke is on you, Miss Prentiss. I don’t even have the old maid,” He said, forcing his voice not to quake, and he sounded somewhat believable, at least that’s what he thought until he saw her brow raise, and he knew he was fucked.

“Yeah? Government names is it?” She asked again, giving him chance to fix his error, only he doubled down with a second nod, his lips pursed. Her finger shot out to point to the joker card, where she could only see the intricate pattern that matched every other in his hand, “So this isn’t the Old Maid?”

Spencer blinked once, the two of them exchanging a heated look like they were waiting for the smallest of breaks in character, and his breathing even despite the fact it was under duress, his expression abnormally calm as the jet went entirely silent, “Yes,”

“Bullshit,” He quickly collected his cards to his lap and scrambled to shuffle them well enough that she wouldn’t guess which one was the dead card, his scowl spreading over his face.

“You cheater, you must have seen my cards, there’s no way to count where I put the joker, that is entirely by chance-” Spencer snapped back, flipping them between his long, lithe fingers as Bugsy giggled into her hand.

“Play nicely, boys and girls,” Rossi chided where he had his nose buried in the newspaper, only glancing up to see Spencer glaring at the girl who sat opposite him with a victorious smirk.

“Face it, Spencer Reid. You might be good, but I’m better.” Derek bit his lip to stop himself from laughing where he was eavesdropping on their game on the seats behind them, and he thought he might have to take it to his deathbed that he and the younger girl had swapped Spencer's cards out the second he went to the bathroom. Or maybe save it for a rainy day, when he really needed leverage against the stubborn girl and let them squabble in peace.

Bugsy didn't tell him until a year later, the week before she left for London.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #bugspence #matthew gray gubler x reader

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megalony · 10 months ago

Text

He's Not One Of Us

This is a new Eddie Diaz imagine, requested by anon, I hope you will all like it. I'm loving all the Eddie requests coming through recently and am trying to work my way through them all.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) has a bad feeling about the new recruit. And things go from bad to worse when she's paired with him on a call and ends up getting injured.

Enjoy.

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A grin overtook (Y/n)'s features and she looked up from the cards she was shuffling to see who was hovering over her and causing a shadow to cast across her eyes.

She watched the way Eddie leaned over until his right hand hovered over her shoulder and clamped down on the back of the sofa. And his left hand held the arm of the sofa, effectively caging her down where she sat so she had no form of escaping him. His knees pressed down into hers and when he tilted his head to the side, a smirk flooded his face and made (Y/n)'s stomach ignite with adrenaline.

"Hm, what're you after?" She continued shuffling the cards, waiting for Evan to come back and play another round. They had just finished lunch and they had a bit of free time to kill, waiting for their next call out.

"A kiss." He responded boldly, quirking his lips up to the side but when he leaned close, (Y/n) ducked her head down so he kissed her temple instead.

She could feel the way he huffed against her temple but kissed her there anyway and she tried not to make a sound. Her eyes focused on the deck of cards she shifted between her fingers but her chest tightened when Eddie's hand left the arm of the chair and moved to cup her chin. He held her chin between his thumb and finger and tilted her head up so they were level again.

"Don't tease me." His words were pleading, but his tone was demanding and (Y/n) couldn't help herself.

"Why not? What're you gonna do, Eddie, punish me?"

She leaned up and pecked his cheek before she pushed back in her seat and sat up straight, adding some distance between them. They were on shift. They were supposed to be curteous and professional and Eddie was making it extremely hard right now.

And (Y/n) knew her husband. He wasn't always touchy-feely when they were on shift together, he liked to try and remain professional and keep the boundaries because of regulations. But he was starting to bend the rules a little more recently instead of it being just (Y/n) who would sneak up on him and steal a kiss from his unknowing lips.

Her eyes widened and she drew in a sharp breath when Eddie moved. His knees moved away from hers until they were pinned into her thighs and he was practically sat down on her lap. But she almost crushed the cards in half when his hands moved to the top of her trousers. Before (Y/n) could say anything, Eddie managed to worm his fingers beneath her waistband and under her shirt that she had tucked into her trousers.

His cold fingers on her skin made her stomach pull in and she took a sharp breath when one of his fingers hooked into her underwear.

"Eddie!" She hissed as she tilted her head to look around. "If someone sees we'll get pulled in Bobby's office."

(Y/n) set the cards down on the seat next to her before she curled her fingers tightly around Eddie's wrist. She wasn't quite strong enough to pull his hand away when he tensed his arms and fought to keep his hands where they were. His lips quirked into a baiting smirk and a devilish look passed across his eyes that seemed to turn three shades darker within the space of a second.

"So gimme a kiss."

His fingertips wedged against her underwear and squeezed her hips until he could see she was barely able to breathe and her eyes kept nervously looking around. Her brother would never let them live this down if he caught them. Bobby would probably stop letting them be on shift together. Chimney would be embarrassed and wouldn't know how to act and she dreaded to think what Hen would do if she saw them in a compromising position like this.

She kept one hand tightly clenched around Eddie's wrist to stop him from getting any more ideas and moving his hand any further into her pants. But her left hand reached up to cup his jaw and her thumb traced his cheekbone as she pushed up to kiss him.

Her lips pressed fiercely into his until he was leaning back from the pressure and she pulled on his bottom lip to part them and swipe her tongue past his lips.

She kissed him until he stole all the air from her lungs and left her feeling lightheaded and on the verge of passing out. When Eddie groaned against her lips, (Y/n) finally pulled back and let her head flop back on the sofa so she was left staring up at his wide grin and hooded eyes.

"That's your lot, now release me." She murmured softly, pushing her knees up to make him take the hint and move.

He looked doubtful, as if he was about to grin and move his hands even further south and (Y/n) wouldn't put it past him. But Eddie obliged, shimmying his hands back out of her trousers and just to wind her up, he dragged her shirt up too. He pulled the bottom of her shirt out of her waistband and pulled a few of the buttons loose in the few spare seconds he had before (Y/n) was hitting his hands to scold him.

"Eddie…" She whined and pushed his hands back towards his own chest and when he finally climbed off her lap and slumped down next to her, she glared playfully at him.

Her hands moved to do up her buttons quickly when she heard Evan coming back over. She did not want her big brother to see her clothes askew and realise what Eddie had been up to. He didn't need that image and she didn't need the torment.

She grabbed the deck of cards Eddie had almost sat on and placed them on his thigh, letting her fingers drag dangerously close to his zipper to see if he would smirk or frown or pull away.

"Your turn to beat my brother at cards. I'm gonna go check the inventory." (Y/n) allowed Eddie one last kiss before she got up and weaved past her brother before Eddie could pin her back down and prevent her from moving.

She would let Eddie take her place in the game of cards, she had been on a winning streak anyway.

And it felt more dangerous to stay close to Eddie when he was in a teasing mood like that. She didn't quite know if he could keep his wandering hands to himself, and as much as she didn't want him to, she didn't want to get caught out either.

(Y/n) headed down the stairs but when she went towards the stock room, she stopped and glanced over towards one of the engines.

The new guy. He had some of the hatches open on the truck and a clipboard in his hands. He was doing an inventory check.

"Do you need me to grab anything out of inventory for you?" She stuffed her hands into her pockets and walked over towards him with a kind smile. Her eyes danced across the hatches to see what was in the truck and see if anything needed restocking.

There was something about the new guy that seemed a little… off. He wasn't like the other newbies they got here. He wasn't trying to intergrate himself into the team and become one of them right away. He wasn't sucking up to anyone or trying to cause trouble and he wasn't exactly getting stuck in.

Blake did whatever he was told, but he seemed to want to be told how to do everything. It was as if he needed clear instructions for every little call out they had. Eddie had to tell him yesterday to bandage a woman's hand when she had suffered a burn. He just stood looking at her hand like it was a miracle and he didn't know how to treat it.

"Um… I can't find any of these in here."

(Y/n) leaned down to see what he was pointing at on the clipboard but she rolled her lips together when she looked at the top of the page.

She moved her hands towards the clipboard, silently asking if she could take it and when he handed it over, she took the sheet of paper off. (Y/n) swapped it for the page behind it and slowly pointed at the writing on the top of the page.

"That was the ambulance inventory, you need to be checking this one, for the engine."

He had been on the inventory that they stocked in the ambulance. It was an honest mistake, he clearly hadn't looked at the top of the page. But he should have figured something wasn't right. No fire house tended to stock their fire engines with stethoscopes, bandages, gauze and saline bags.

When he looked over the page but didn't say anything, (Y/n) took a peek inside and turned around.

By the time she went into the inventory room, grabbed two new CO2 extinguishers and came back to the truck, Blake had moved all of two steps. He seemed to have ticked a few things on the list and he was at least looking through what was in the truck now which was a start.

"Can you get the old CO2 tank out and check it please? I'm pretty sure it was almost empty when we used it this morning."

(Y/n) busied herself slotting the two new tanks into place and clipping them in so they wouldn't roll around in the hatch. But when she looked over at Blake, her brows furrowed and she sank her teeth down into her lower lip. What was he doing?

"These sure are different to the ones I'm used to… does it usually stick this much?"

Where had he come from to deal with different fire extinguishers? Most of them were exactly the same, only the size of the cannisters changed. They all operated the same way so everyone could use them.

But when (Y/n) leaned over to see what he was trying to do, her stomach flooded with adrenaline and she reached around him.

"No… you have to take the pin out, see?" She removed the safety pin and when he pressed the metal release clasps together, the last drop of CO2 burst out the nozzle.

Was he trying to wind her up? Was this a joke that (Y/n) didn't find funny?

He should have been shown how to use the cannister in his basic training back at the academy. No one got past the first stage if they couldn't operate a hose or a cannister for a basic fire emergency test. Blake must be winding (Y/n) up and she just didn't see the funny side. But he looked so serious, even as he walked away to dispose of the cannister.

Something was strange about him.

***

"Okay, Eddie, Buck you two go to the first floor and try to put out as much of that fire as you can. Hen tend to the workers, Chim you and me will take the ground floor. And (Y/n), take Blake with you up to the second floor. That fire is everywhere and it needs to be out. Go."

A shiver tore down (Y/n)'s spine when Bobby's voice rung out through the air, over the smoke consuming the midnight sky.

Why did she have to take Blake? Why couldn't Bobby keep the new guy with him and show him the ropes and keep an eye on him?

(Y/n) had a bad feeling about Blake. There was just something that wasn't right about him and she didn't know why, but he made her nervous. She didn't want to be the one to get paired up with him. He was going to slow her down and that was the last thing they needed when this warehouse was consumed in fire and needed putting out before the whole structure collapsed.

But she couldn't go against orders and she had no specific reason not to trust Blake. She couldn't signal him out and risk creating waves in the team and getting reprimanded for not being a team player.

With her gloves, overcoat and helmet secured, (Y/n) turned to Eddie who was stood on her right. She knew he could see the apprehension in her eyes, but she tried to smile. The last thing she wanted to do was worry him right now.

"All good?"

"All good. See you soon." She nodded and her smile felt more relaxed when Eddie curved an arm around her waist and leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek. He muttered a few choice words in her ear, gave her a squeeze, then pulled away to find his own helmet and overcoat.

The hose wouldn't stretch through the lobby, up both stairwells and across the second floor. So (Y/n) found an extinguisher and when Blake followed her lead, she headed inside after her husband and brother. The boys parted onto the first floor and Evan grinned back at his sister before she and Blake hurried up to the next level.

Most of the workers had gone home before the fire and the few who were left had managed to get out. The 236 station had started an evacuation and almost everyone was accounted for now. Their job was to put the fires out, that was their main focus and if they saw anyone along the way, they had to get them out.

Heading out into the corridor, (Y/n) opened one of the doors on her right and shone her torch around.

"Try and turn the sprinkler system on, will you?"

"Sure."

When Blake nodded, (Y/n) walked further into the room and started putting out the small fires. The main flames were out in the corridor which would be a big issue to cover.

(Y/n) finished putting out the fires and headed across into the next room while Blake started following the sprinkler system built into the ceiling to try and see if there was another lever somewhere he could wrench into working. It took him out into the corridor while (Y/n) focused on making sure each room was evacuated and clear.

"Alright guys, how we looking up there? Building manager says all personel have been accounted for except for a secretary in the East end of the second floor. (Y/n), Blake, can you find your way there?" Bobby's voice came through the speaker and made (Y/n) feel a little better. One last person to get out, then the fire was the primary focus. This wasn't going to be such a rushed job.

Just as she headed back out into the corridor, her eyes widened and her heart jumped up into her chest when a soaring wave of vibrant orange and blood red crimson surged her way.

(Y/n) backed up as a consuming wave of heat overwhelmed her body and flames sparked down the corridor. If fire could have moved and imitated a wave, (Y/n) swore she had seen a tsunami of fire engulf the corridor. The shock and extreme power sent her down to the floor with a thud and she cringed when the floorboards creaked. This floor was unsteady as it was without her being thrown about the room.

Pushing up to her knees, (Y/n) took a few steady breaths and looked down at herself, making sure she was truly alright before she got up and tried to head out into the corridor. Her eyes locked on Blake who was on the other side of the corridor in the doorway to an office. They both looked up at the ceiling and (Y/n) felt like she could cry when she realised there had to be a gas leak.

One of the pipes above them was sizzling and the flames were soaring up towards the roof. The warehouse was going to go up in flames if the gas wasn't turned off.

"What was that? (Y/n) you okay?" Eddie's voice carried through the radio and made (Y/n) smile.

"I- we're good… Cap we have a gas leak up here, someone needs to turn the gas off now. This corridor is blocked, we can't get through to the East side."

"Fully blocked?"

"Yep… we could go up to the roof though, a rope rescue is our best bet." (Y/n) had done a few rope rescues in her time. It would be much easier to go to the roof and lower down the side of the building and into one of the offices on the East side. They could get the woman out safely that way.

They couldn't push their way through the flames, they didn't have enough extinguishers to make it all that way and then bring the woman safely back again.

"Do it."

"Be careful!" Both Eddie and Evan spoke at the same time and (Y/n) grinned at the sound of her boy's voices. Her husband and brother, always the worriers. Her protectors.

(Y/n) wasn't sure which room Blake found the rope in, but she was glad he tossed it over his shoulder and grinned. He led the way back towards the stairwell and they started their ascent up towards the roof. It saved them needing to go down to the truck and then climb all the way back up the stairs again.

It didn't feel stable on the roof, but if they were careful and quick the floor felt sturdy enough to hold them for a few minutes, at least. They kept their steps light and their weight evenly spread out as they trailed across to the East side of the building.

The pair of them leaned over the edge and looked down. There was at least three windows that they could smash into on the second floor to find a way to get the secretary out.

"I can go down." (Y/n) watched Blake look around, somewhat nervously, but he smiled and nodded. She thought it might he easier if she went down on the rope. Something told her Blake wasn't the best person to go looking for their victim inside.

Reaching down, she grabbed one end of the rope and threaded it around her waist and looped it as tight as she could so it didn't move an inch below her hips.

"Can you secure it to the chimney for me?" Blake grabbed the other end before she finished speaking and she turned to look back down while he tied it off.

This was exactly like her training at the academy. At least this time, no one would be stood at the bottom waiting for her to fall or make a mistake and timing how long it took her to complete her absail down. And if she had Blake up top to watch, at least he could keep the rope secure and he could then be the eyes and ears when it came to getting their victim out.

"Okay, I- I guess I'll keep watch from up here."

"Okay." (Y/n) tried to smile, but the way Blake was nervously rubbing his gloved hands together made her uneasy.

She held tight to the rope with one hand and used her other hand to lean on the ledge and ease herself over. Her boots pressed up against the brick wall and with a deep breath, (Y/n) slowly threaded the rope through her hand and started her descent down. She only had to go six or seven feet down to reach the window and then she could use her feet and momentum to break the window and get inside. The only problem would be finding where the secretary was.

A jolt surged through (Y/n)'s stomach that felt like it had pushed up into her chest when she juttered down a bit too quickly. Her fist clenched around the rope and she tilted her head back as harsh breaths escaped her lips.

"Blake?" She looked up at him but he just gave her a thumbs up. She was fine.

Her eyes trailed back down to the wall and she tried to keep moving down, but when the rope jolted and she lowered down a bit too quickly, she looked up again. Blake had gone. He wasn't leaning over watching her descent anymore.

When the rope gave way for a third time, (Y/n) held her breath but her lips parted and a scream tumbled past her lips when she felt gravity hold onto her. It was as if invisible hands had suddenly grabbed her waist and started to pull.

(Y/n) had never fallen off of anything before. She had never fallen during an absail, not during her training or in a real life emergency like this.

She could see the rope falling down and grating against the ledge of the roof and the wind whipped against the back of her neck and scraped along her arms as her body tilted backwards and she surged down through the air. All the air left her lungs in a horrid, banshee scream and her eyes snapped closed as her arms pulled up and pinned against her chest.

(Y/n) knew she needed to turn. She should fall on her side to save the risk of damaging her spine or paralysing herself, bit she didn't have the time. Within seconds, all her air was gone and her body no longer felt like it was falling through space and time.

She landed on the tarmac with a horrid thud that shook the pavement and sent her body reeling.

Stars danced behind her eyelids. Horrid shockwaves rattled through the back of her head that was pulsing and igniting in pain and her lungs stopped working. They shuddered in her chest as her lips parted but she couldn't breathe. Her chest had been shocked and her system wasn't working properly.

It took a few agonising seconds for (Y/n) to get her lungs back into working order and she finally sucked in a ragged, gasping breath that made her back pulse and spark and her body jolted and thrashed on the floor.

Her arms that were both pinned to her chest started to shake and she barely felt her right hand move to clench around the radio pinned to her shoulder.

All she could do was scream. No words formulated on her tongue and her eyes wouldn't open. She couldn't move, speak or even breathe properly. All the air (Y/n) sucked in went straight back out into a horrible howl that shook the foundations of the warehouse in front of her.

"(Y/n)?!"

"(Y/n)? Baby what's the matter? What's happened? Baby talk to me!" Terror ransacked Eddie's body and he dropped the CO2 tank in his hand to grab his radio.

Why was she screaming? Why was his wife screaming through the radio frequency? What had she done? She was supposed to be on the rope going down into the second floor. How had she suddenly hurt herself and ended up screaming in agony in Eddie's ears?

"Baby talk to me!" Eddie's eyes darted over to look at Evan before he stared down at his feet and willed his wife to talk. They couldn't help if they didn't know what was going on, where she was or what she had been doing.

When the word "Fell." burst past (Y/n)'s lips in a horrid, bubbling cry, Eddie looked over at Evan. How had she fallen? She should have been tied to a rope, that was the whole point.

Both men took off into a sprint when another cry tore through the radio and made them flinch. The first floor was clear of all fires now, they had gone round putting them out and there was no gas leak on this floor either which was good. They had the chance to bolt down the stairs and through the main floor of the warehouse until they burst through the front doors and looked around.

"Eddie…"

"I'm coming baby, I'm here, I'm here!"

Eddie tore off his helmet, gloves and jacket when his eyes landed on his wife. He sprinted across the pavement while he felt like his heart was trying to break free from his chest to get to her.

He didn't give Evan the chance to kneel down before he grabbed his jacket and gave him a shove in the other direction.

"Get me a medic bag and a back board. Now!" When Evan took off in a sprint, Eddie crashed down to his knees beside (Y/n) who was still screaming with any breaths she could suck in. "Baby… baby it's me. Shh, shh let me look at you, it's alright baby girl."

His hands cupped her face and his thumbs swiped across her cheeks, brushing away some of the tears that were streaking through the soot and dirt clinging to her face. He hated to see her lips curved down and hear the way she cried and clawed for breath.

It was hard to stop his finger from trembling as they tore at her jacket and pushed it off to the sides so he could assess her.

He tried to feel around her neck, down her shoulders and he moved her arms so they were resting at her sides rather than across her chest. When his fingers curled around her left shoulder, (Y/n) saw streaks of white flash across her eyes and she writhed against the floor, choking on a scream.

"Shh… it's broken baby." Eddie moved her left arm so it was back across her chest and tried to keep the joint stiff and in place. Her shoulder had definitely broken and the bone could have shattered for all he knew.

"Here." Evan placed the bag down next to Eddie and left the back board nearby while he knelt down on (Y/n)'s other side.

He reached down to take her right hand in his and started gliding his fingers up and down her arm to try and keep her settled.

"Wiggle your toes for me, good girl." Eddie felt down her legs and slipped his fingers beneath the cuff of her boots to feel her ankles. They didn't feel broken, but he couldn't be sure. He was relieved when (Y/n) bent both her feet back and forth. That proved she didn't have any nerve damage or paralysis and she didn't scream in agony which made him hopeful she didn't have any lasting or serious damage in her legs.

He took the stethoscope out the bag and listened to her heart and then her lungs which all sounded good.

He undid the rope around her waist, throwing it out the way before his fingers pressed beneath her armpits and worked down her sides to check her ribs and her pelvis.

"A few broken ribs, but pelvis is in tact…" Eddie moved his hands to the back of (Y/n)'s head and moved his fingers through her hair. "Small cut to the back of the head."

"Cap, (Y/n)'s had an accident, she's got a lot of trauma we have to take her to the hospital now." Evan kept hold of her hand while he spoke into the radio. Everyone knew she had had a fall, they all heard her screams through the radio. But they had to transfer her to the hospital now and get her seen to.

He looked down at (Y/n) when she let go of his hand and her trembling fingers reached out for Eddie instead. She pinched his hand so tightly he hissed at her sharp nails digging into his skin.

"What is it, baby?"

He didn't know what she was trying to do or tell him until she pressed his hand to her abdomen while her chest shuddered back and forth and spit rolled past her lips. "B-burns… bad."

Eddie's brows furrowed and he carefully untucked her shirt from her trousers and wrenched it up towards her bra. She couldn't have gotten burns on her chest, she was wearing her protective gear and she didn't say anything on the radio about being caught in one of the fires. But when he pressed his fingertips just above her belly button and then around to the sides, she moaned through a sob and began to cough.

"Either internal bleeding or something's ruptured… okay baby, shh it's alright. I'm gonna give you some morphine, then we'll get you to the hospital."

He found a pre-packaged needle in the medic bag and injected the morphine into (Y/n)'s thigh. It wouldn't do much but it would hopefully take the edge off and calm her down until they could get her sedated at the hospital.

"Up on three… one, two, three."

The pair of them tried to be as careful as possible when they eased (Y/n) onto the backboard but they couldn't move her painlessly. Her scream vibrated through the pair of them but they tried to shake it off and move towards the ambulance just as the rest of the team came out the building.

The other station would have to deal with putting out the last of the fires and finish getting that last victim out the building. They had one of their own critically injured and out of action. (Y/n) had to come first.

"I've got you, you're gonna be fine sweet girl, don't worry." Eddie reached down for her hand the moment they had her in the back of the ambulance. He pulled her hand into his chest and kissed her knuckles as Evan climbed in the back with them and shut the doors.

They had to go.

***

Evan pushed off the wall when the waiting room doors opened and Maddie burst through. His big sister ran into the small, secluded room just down the hall from the operating theatre she had been directed to when she got here.

It had been a fright to finish her shift and have Evan call her. Their little sister had been involved in some kind of accident, and now the whole team were waiting at the hospital for any news while she was taken for surgery.

"What happened?" Her arms enveloped around Evan and she leaned her chin up on his shoulder when he bent down to hug her properly. He may be the middle child, but he was by far the tallest out of them all.

She darted her eyes around the team. Hen and Chimney were sat with cups of coffee in their hands, half asleep, half engaged in conversation. Eddie was sat on the other side of the room, hands clasped together with his knees spread wide and his head hung down between his knees. And the new guy who Maddie had yet to meet, was sat near the window with his feet tapping out a tune against the tiles.

"A rope rescue went wrong… s-she fell, we don't know how." Evan kept his arm curled around Maddie before he glanced over at Eddie.

His brother in law had barely spoken since (Y/n) left for X-rays and an MRI and when the doctor told them she was in surgery, it seemed to wash right over Eddie's head.

"Broken shoulder. Six broken ribs, concussion and her intestine ruptured… so she's in surgery to repair it." Eddie's lips stayed pressed against his fingers and his words came out partially muffled, but he knew Maddie had heard him alright.

They were lucky (Y/n) didn't break her neck or her spine with the way she fell and how she landed. But a ruptured intestine was worse than Eddie had been expecting and he wasn't happy. Why had his wife fallen? How had it gone so wrong? It wasn't as if she hadn't done this before, they all had their training and knew what to do. Why did she have to get hurt tonight?

"I'm gonna call Carla, check on Chris."

Eddie pushed up and walked out the waiting room. He didn't want to sit with the team in silence like this. He didn't like it. It was slowly killing him. He needed to see how Chris was doing and make sure he was alright and he had to update Carla on what was happening. It had been bad enough that he had to call her and beg for her to keep Chris with her for the night so Eddie could stay and wait for any updates on (Y/n).

He fished his phone out his pocket and wandered down the hall, turning the corner and jogging down the stairs. But he barely got outside into the fresh air before his eyes locked on Bobby sat down on a bench a few feet away.

The Captain had come outside to make a few calls. He had to know the B shift at the station were coping alright and he had to inform the chief that an accident had happened and injured one of the team. It was even worse that they didn't know how or why this had happened.

Eddie's finger hovered over Carla's contact in his phone, but he stopped when he heard Bobby begin to speak.

"You're sure? Well how the Hell did that happen?"

That didn't sound good. Bobby had his stern voice and a hand on his hip; sure signs that his conversation wasn't about anything good.

"Explain to me how he got the transfer papers and the credentials to get himself on my team if he's had no training and not even passed through the academy?!"

What was he talking about?

Adrenaline pooled in Eddie's stomach and surged up through to his chest when he thought about the only person on the team who had recently been transferred, and who seemed rather clueless.

Blake.

Had he not had any training? How had he not gone through any training? How did he get into the fire station and get the papers to transfer to them if he didn't have any training and didn't pass the academy? That wasn't possible. Everyone was vetted before they got an interview for any station and Bobby wasn't a fool.

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Eddie turned around and headed back inside.

It felt as if he had tunnel vision, narrowing more and more until all he could see were the stairs ahead of him that would lead back up to the waiting room where the team were. He had to find out what was going on. He had to know if (Y/n)'s fall had anything to do with Blake and if the new recruit was even a recruit at all. Eddie had to know if he really had no training and if he was with them under false pretenses.

Because if he was and this was all true, then he had just risked (Y/n)'s life.

By the time he got into the waiting room, his breathing had turned shallow and his hands were balled into fists at his sides. The only thing he could see was Blake. That scrawny, strange new recruit who was sat with his back up straight and his hands on his knees while his feet tapped against the floor. From a distance, he really looked like he belonged with them, as if he was truly a colleague worried about a friend's welfare.

"That was quick-"

Panic surged through the room when Eddie pushed past Hen and made a beeline for Blake.

As soon as his hands scrunched up in Blake's shirt, Eddie ripped him up from his seat and launched him to the other side of the room. He pushed Blake back until his back and shoulders were pinned up against the wall and his feet were barely touching the floor. Eddie's right arm pressed across his collar bone, digging into the base of his neck making it harder for him to catch a proper breath. Just like (Y/n) had struggled when she fell.

"What did you do to that rope?"

"Eddie what the Hell are you doing?! Get off him." Evan tried to grab Eddie by the shoulders, but he swung his left arm out to push Evan back and bashed his shoulder back to get him off.

"Wow, Eddie calm down-"

"What did you do to it?!"

"I- I don't know." Those three little words infuriated Eddie and he smashed Blake's head back against the wall to try and make him remember what he'd done. He must know something. He must know what he had done wrong up there because (Y/n) was a trained professional. She wouldn't fall for no reason, something had happened to her on that roof.

"Eddie enough!"

Blake slumped down against the wall when Eddie was wrenched off of him and both Hen and Evan tried to hold him at bay. He couldn't just attack one of the team like that. He had to tell them what was going on.

"He's not one of us." He spat the words as if they were vile poison on his tongue and he could feel the sweat rolling down the back of his neck. Eddie could see the panic in Blake's eyes and it made him laugh. A cynical, crooked laugh tore past his lips and he leaned his head back to look up at the ceiling.

"What does that mean?"

"You think Cap hasn't found out by now? He knows you don't have any training. You didn't pass the academy, and yet you're here. So I'll ask again. What did you do to that rope?" Eddie flashed his teeth in a sharp, sideways smirk that had Blake quaking at the knees and his round eyes looked around everyone as if asking for help.

They all wanted an explanation. Everyone wanted to know what was going on and how one of them could go two weeks on the job without any training or qualifications and not get caught out.

"I- I tied it up! S-she asked me to tie it, a-and I thought I did, but I didn't know how it was supposed to go… and she… when she pulled on it, it just came loose. I swear it was an accident!"

He meant no harm.

When (Y/n) asked him to tie the rope, Blake tried his best. But he didn't know how to do a rope rescue, he didn't know how to tie it or which knot to use or how much rope to thread around the chimney to secure it. And when (Y/n) started to thread it through her hands and lower herself down, it came loose.

He tried to grab it but the rope slipped through his gloved hands before he could hold onto it and when he looked down, (Y/n) was already on the floor, screaming through the radio.

It was an accident. Blake never meant to hurt her. He wormed his way into the station because he was desperate to help people, it was all he wanted to do. He didn't care if he didn't know the ways to help, the team had been showing him and he thought that was enough.

He doubled forward with a gasp when Eddie's knee rammed into his stomach. And he cried out when Eddie grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him into the closest chair, watching him crumble to the floor like a piece of paper.

A roaring scream left Eddie's lips when Evan and Chimney threw themselves on top of him and pinned him to the floor.

He bashed his elbows into their sides, scraped his boots against the polished floor and pushed up onto his knees until both men were pinning his arms behind his back like he was under arrest.

"You could have killed my wife! She could have broken her neck because of you. She's in surgery and you think I give a shit whether you tried or not?" Blake could give Eddie all the apologies and sorrows in the world. It would never be enough. Eddie didn't care for apologies when Blake knew what he was doing.

He knew being here without training could put someone in harm's way or potentially kill someone and he did it anyway. And now it was Eddie's wife that was in danger.

"I didn't know-"

"If anything else happens to (Y/n), I will murder you." His words weren't a threat, they were a promise.

If (Y/n) suffered any further complications because of her injuries or God forbid, she died, Eddie wouldn't hesitate. He would find any weapon he could lay his hands on and make Blake pay for this. He wasn't going to let him get away with what he had done tonight.

Every part of Eddie began shaking as he reached for the closest chair and launched it across the room. He held his hands up when Hen and Maddie both stepped in front of him and his eyes just dared one of them to do or say something to let him explode.

"You want some advice?" Evan turned to look at Blake who was slumped on the floor, arms bound around his chest and tears flushing his face. When Blake nodded, Evan crouched down to be level with him and stared into his broken eyes. "Run."

Blake needed no more words than that to scramble onto shaking legs and stumble out of the room.

The 118 was a family. Eddie was (Y/n)’s husband. Evan and Maddie were her older, protective siblings. Hen was like another sister to her and Bobby was a surrogate father to her. None of them would stand for someone walking in and hurting her like this and they weren't going to be kind to Blake after the stunts he had pulled.

He needed to leave before someone hurt him.

As soon as he was out of the room, Eddie tangled both his hands together behind his head and tried to take big, deep breaths. He paced up and down the length of the room while everyone else tried to put the chairs back in order and sit down again.

But he turned to face the door when it opened. He was ready to lash out but he stopped himself when he saw the doctor. Her eyes flitted about the room, clearly knowing something had happened but she didn't dare approach the subject.

"(Y/n) Diaz?"

"Is she alright?"

"Surgery went well, her shoulder is back in place and we've repaired the rupture to her intestine, there should be no lasting damage. You can see her now."

Eddie stormed out the room before the doctor had chance to tell him which room (Y/n) was in. He headed down the hall and slowed down just enough for her to catch him up and direct him to the right room on the left.

He could feel his heart breaking all over again when his eyes locked on his wife. He couldn't quite get the image of her crumpled up on the floor out of his mind. But Eddie wasn't so sure that this image was any better. (Y/n) laid up in a hospital bed, her left arm pinned to her chest in a sling with tape and bandages rolled around her shoulder. An oxygen tube stuck beneath her nose, monitoring wires and stickers beneath her gown. IV canula taped into the back of her right hand.

And he dreaded to think what her abdomen would look like beneath the gown or how the cut looked on the back of her head or how much blood she had lost tonight.

He barely heard the doctor close the door before he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed and lean over. His hands delicately cupped either side of (Y/n)'s face and he pressed a careful kiss to her chapped lips.

"There's my girl. Hey, mi amor." He let his temple rest lightly on hers and he managed to smile when he felt (Y/n)'s hand curl around his wrist.

"I'm sorry."

"Hm, sorry for what baby? You got hurt, you don't have anything to be sorry for." Eddie brushed his thumb across her cheek and pressed another tender kiss to her lips when he felt her hand tighten around his wrist. She had suffered a bad accident, but that was no reason for (Y/n) to be apologising. She hadn't done anything wrong.

"I- I fell… did I… did I do something wrong, with the rope?" Panic burned in (Y/n)'s voice and she could feel her eyes welling up with tears. She'd never had a big accident at work before.

"No, no baby girl you didn't do anything wrong, I swear. I'll explain later, but nothing is your fault. You hear me?"

Eddie wouldn't have (Y/n) believing she had done something wrong when it was someone else who had put her life in danger. Blake had hurt her, badly. He had caused her damage that could well have been irreversable or even fatal. Eddie was lucky to have his wife safe and alive in his arms and he wouldn't have her getting frightened or upset because she thought she hadn't done her job correctly.

The only person at fault was the new recruit, and he wasn't getting away with this.

#eddie diaz x reader #imagine #911 imagine #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #eddie diaz

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whereforarthur · 3 months ago

Text

Poker Night Never Felt So Right

Pairing: ArthurTv x Reader x George Clarke x Chrismd

Summary: A game of strip poker with your friends, goes a little further than anyone expected...

Category: Mature (SMUT)

Word Count: 5k

*****

Let’s play strip poker

And they removed all their doubts

And their insecurities,

And finally made out,

They lay all naked with not a single secret left,

They were happy and kissed their fate for they meet. -Tiara

"Alright, lads and lady," Chris announced, glancing at the group and y/n, slapping a fresh deck of cards onto the worn-out kitchen table, "Poker night is in full swing."

The aroma of George's burnt lasagna filled the flat, a constant reminder of his culinary disasters that had become a tradition in their weekly gatherings. Arthur's eyes lit up as he pulled out his favorite chair, the one with the slightly wonky leg that made everyone else wobble but somehow suited him perfectly.

Y/n, the sole female in this sea of testosterone, rolled her eyes at their juvenile antics but couldn't help the smirk that tugged at the corner of her lips. She'd known these three since starting YouTube, and their friendship had endured through the chaos of their YouTube fame.

Chris shuffled the cards with a dexterity that suggested he'd had a bit too much practice, while George attempted to mimic his skill, earning a chuckle from Arthur. Y/n took a sip of her beer, the cool liquid cutting through the tension of the room.

"I've got an idea," George said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Since it's just us tonight, how about we spice things up a bit?"

Chris paused mid-shuffle, raising an eyebrow. "Spice it up how?"

George leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "Strip poker. You know, like they do in the movies."

The room went quiet for a beat before Arthur let out a hearty laugh, slapping his hand on the table. "You're joking, right?"

Y/n took another sip of her beer, eyeing George over the rim. "As if I'd agree to that."

Chris grinned, playing along. "Aw, come on, it'll be fun! Plus, you've got nothing to worry about, you're a pro at poker."

Y/n set her beer down, her expression unreadable. "Fine, but only if we all agree to keep it friendly. No funny business, got it?"

Chris and Arthur exchanged a look, the unspoken challenge hanging in the air. "Friendly, got it," Arthur said with a nod.

The game began, the shuffling of the cards and the clinking of beer bottles punctuating the occasional bursts of laughter. Y/n focused on her hand, trying to ignore the electric current of excitement that buzzed through her. The guys were her closest friends, but the thought of playing strip poker with them sent a thrill down her spine that she couldn't quite shake.

Arthur's luck, however, didn't seem to be in his favor tonight. His hand trembled slightly as he placed his bet, and when the cards were revealed, his face fell. "Bugger," he muttered, glancing at the table as he realized he'd lost the first round.

With a dramatic sigh, he stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. "Alright, alright," he said, playing it cool as he pulled his shirt over his head. The room was a mix of cheers and good-natured laughter as he tossed it aside, revealing his bare chest. He sat back down, his cheeks flushing slightly as he tried to cover his modesty with his arms. "Remember, this is all in good fun," he said, his voice a bit shakier than he'd intended.

Y/n couldn't help but blush as she took in Arthur's abs. They were surprisingly defined, a testament to his gym routine, and boxing history. She quickly averted her gaze to her cards, hoping the flush on her cheeks would be attributed to the heat of the kitchen rather than her newfound appreciation for Arthur's physique.

The game continued, the tension ramping up with each new hand. Despite her initial confidence, y/n felt her heart racing as she tried to read the guys' faces for tells. Chris remained stoic, his poker face unwavering, while George's was as transparent as always, his eyes widening with every good card. Arthur, on the other hand, had become a closed book since his shirt came off, his focus solely on the game.

Y/n's luck took a nosedive, and she found herself holding a pathetic hand of cards. She bit her lip, contemplating her next move. The pot grew larger, and the stakes grew higher. She could feel the heat from the oven and the anticipation from her friends. With a deep breath, she called George's bet, hoping for a miracle. The cards flipped over, and George's smug grin told her everything she needed to know. She'd lost this round.

The room grew silent as she slowly stood up, her heart racing. She unzipped her hoodie, letting it fall to the floor. Underneath, she wore a simple black tank top that clung to her curves. She caught Arthur's eyes lingering on her for a moment too long, and she couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement. She took a seat, trying to regain her composure.

"Looks like the tides are turning," Chris said with a smirk, his eyes never leaving her.

The boys' laughter filled the room as they joked about her losing streak. Y/n felt her cheeks heat up, but she shrugged it off, playing along with their banter. "Just a bad hand, that's all," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

The next few rounds were a blur of cards and clinking bottle caps. Y/n managed to win a few hands, but her losses outweighed her victories. Her stack of clothes grew smaller, and she found herself down to her bra and jeans. She gulped, trying to ignore the way Arthur's gaze lingered on her when he thought she wasn't looking.

Chris's hand won again, and George's smug look was wiped clean as he had to remove his trousers, revealing his colorful boxers with cartoon characters on them. The room erupted in laughter, and George shot a playful glare at y/n. "You're enjoying this too much," he teased, but his cheeks were flushed, and she could see the excitement in his eyes.

The other boys were staring too, but not just at George. They couldn't help but sneak glances at y/n, their gazes lingering on her in a way that made her acutely aware of her dwindling clothing. She felt their eyes on her, and the air grew thicker, charged with a tension that was no longer just about the game. It was about the thrill of the reveal, the anticipation of what would come next.

Chris dealt the next hand, his eyes flicking up to meet y/n's. She couldn't read his expression, but she knew he was enjoying the game more than he let on. They all were. The stakes had changed, and the atmosphere in the room had shifted from friendly competition to something else entirely.

Y/n studied her cards, her heart racing. A full house stared back at her, and she couldn't help the smug smile that spread across her face. This was it, her chance to get back in the game. She raised the bet, watching as the boys' expressions grew serious. They had to know she had something good.

The bets went around the table, and the moment of truth arrived. Y/n laid her cards down with a flourish, her heart pounding in her chest. The room was silent as the boys revealed their hands. George had a pair of twos, and Arthur had a straight. But it was Chris who had the nerve to call her bluff. He laid down his cards with a wink, revealing a royal flush. The air whooshed out of her lungs, and she felt the blood drain from her face.

"Looks like it's your turn, love," Chris said, his voice thick with victory.

Y/n felt a bead of sweat trickle down her spine as she reached behind her back, fumbling with the clasp of her bra. She took a deep breath and let it fall away, feeling the cool air of the flat kiss her skin. She kept her eyes on the table, focusing on the cards as the fabric hit the floor. The room was so quiet she could almost hear her own heartbeat echoing off the walls.

The silence was palpable, thick and heavy, as if the very air in the room had turned to jelly. The boys didn't dare to look up, their eyes glued to their own cards or the beer bottles in their hands. They were her friends, her colleagues, but in this moment, they were also men, and she was very aware of it. The game had taken a turn she hadn't anticipated, and she felt vulnerable in a way she hadn't felt in a very long time.

Finally, she looked up, her gaze meeting Chris's. He held her stare for a beat too long, and she saw something in his eyes that made her pulse quicken. It wasn't just the thrill of the game anymore; it was something deeper, something she hadn't expected to find in a casual poker night.

"Good game," Arthur murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through the room. His eyes flicked over her exposed skin before darting back to his cards, and she couldn't help but feel a flutter in her stomach.

Y/n cleared her throat, trying to ignore the sudden self-consciousness that had crept over her. "Alright, let's keep playing," she said, her voice a little too high.

George, ever the opportunist, leaned back in his chair, his eyes gleaming. "Someone's getting a bit flustered, aren't they?"

The room grew tense as George's comment hung in the air, unspoken feelings now laid bare. Y/n felt a blush creep up her neck, her hands clinching into fists at her sides. "It's just a game, George," she said through gritted teeth, trying to keep her cool.

"Fine, fine," he chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Let's keep it friendly, yeah?"

The game resumed, but the dynamics had shifted. The banter was less playful, the glances more intense. Y/n could feel the energy in the room pulsing with every card drawn, every piece of clothing removed. Her hands were trembling slightly as she dealt the next hand, her eyes avoiding the hungry stares of the boys. She focused on the game, trying to ignore the heat of their gazes on her bare skin.

*****

George's luck had run out, and he was just left in his boxers. His cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red as he realized loosing this hand, meant losing them. He met y/n's eyes, and she could see the nervous excitement in his gaze. She felt a strange sense of power, a thrill that was as intoxicating as it was alarming. She called his bet, her heart racing.

And of course that’s what happened George lost the hand, and lost his boxers. They were ridiculous, covered in cartoon characters that clashed with the seriousness of the moment. But as he stood up, the room's focus shifted from the ridiculousness of the situation to the very real and very attractive man in front of them. Y/n couldn't help but feel a flicker of attraction she'd never noticed before, not like this.

Chris cleared his throat, his eyes lingering on George's newly exposed skin before flicking back to his own cards. The air in the flat was charged, and the smell of George's aftershave filled the room, a scent that was at once familiar and entirely new in this context. Arthur's poker face remained unchanged, but his knuckles were white as he gripped his beer bottle, his eyes darting from George to y/n.

The next few rounds were a battle of wills, each player trying to maintain their composure as the clothes piled up on the floor. Y/n's jeans were the next to go, and she felt a shiver run down her spine as she stepped out of them, leaving her in just her panties. The guys' eyes darted up to meet hers, and she could see the struggle in their expressions as they tried to keep the game friendly.

But the game had taken on a life of its own, and the line between friendship and desire was blurring. The stakes were no longer just about winning; they were about power, attraction, and the thrill of the unknown. The tension grew with every card dealt, every article of clothing removed. It was no longer just a game of poker; it had become a dance of seduction, a silent negotiation of boundaries.

Chris's eyes never left y/n's, his gaze dark and intense. The air between them crackled with an energy that was impossible to ignore. As the rounds went on, the smiles and laughter grew forced, the room thick with the scent of pheromones and anticipation. Y/n felt a strange thrill at the thought of pushing the boundaries, of seeing how far they'd all go.

The next hand was dealt, and the tension grew palpable. Y/n studied her cards, feeling the heat of the guys' gazes on her bare legs. She knew that she had a good hand, but the game had become less about winning and more about the thrill of the risk. She raised the bet, watching as the other two exchanged glances. The silence stretched out, the only sound the crackling of the cards and the occasional clink of bottle caps.

Chris called her bluff, laying down his hand with a smug smile. George fully nude now. Both Chris and Arthur in their underwear, the fabric clinging to their growing arousal. Y/n felt a strange mix of nervousness and excitement, her heart racing as she took in the sight of her friends in such a vulnerable state. The room felt like it was closing in on her, the heat from the oven now a stark contrast to the coolness of her bare skin.

The next round began, and the stakes were higher than ever. Y/n's hand trembled as she placed her bet, watching as Chris and Arthur followed suit. She had nothing to lose now but her pride and the last shred of their friendship's innocence. The cards were flipped over, and she felt a jolt of victory as she revealed a full house. Arthur's face fell, and she knew she had him beat.

"Alright, Arthur," she said, her voice steady despite the racing of her heart. "Looks like it's your turn."

Arthur swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He reached down to remove his underwear, and Y/n couldn't help but watch, her eyes widening slightly as he revealed himself. He was more than she'd ever allowed herself to imagine, and she felt a rush of warmth flood her cheeks. The room was a cacophony of shuffling papers and shallow breaths, the only sound louder than her pounding heart.

Chris took a sip of his beer, his eyes never leaving hers. He leaned back in his chair, his own arousal evident, and she realized with a start that he was enjoying this game more than he'd ever let on. "Looks like we're all in this together now," he said, his voice low and gruff.

*****

The game had become about more than just poker; it was a silent dare, a push and pull of power and desire that none of them could ignore.

Chris collected the cards, shuffling them with a deliberate slowness that had y/n's stomach flipping. "Alright, lads," he said, his voice a low rumble, "whoever wins the next hand gets to ask y/n to do something for them."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she took a sip of her beer, trying to play it cool. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice betraying the slight tremble in her chest.

Chris leaned in, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Whatever we want, within reason. Just a little extra... entertainment."

Y/n felt a thrill of anticipation mixed with nerves. "As long as it's not too embarrassing," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Chris grinned, his eyes flicking over her body. "Oh, I think we're past the point of embarrassment."

The room was thick with tension as the final hand was dealt. Y/n picked up her cards, trying to focus on the game, but her mind was racing with the possibilities of what could happen next. She had a decent hand, but she knew that Chris was playing to win.

The bets were placed, and the air was electric as the cards were revealed. Y/n felt a surge of victory as she saw she had a full house again, beating Arthur's two pairs.

Y/n felt a mix of excitement and nerves, her eyes flicking to Chris, who was watching her with an intense gaze. She knew he'd won the round, but the real prize was in the daring request he was about to make.

Chris leaned in closer, his eyes dark with desire. "Alright, love," he said, his voice a low rumble, "it's time for your forfeit."

Y/n's heart raced as she took in the sight of Arthur and George, both fully exposed and equally as nervous. She had no idea what Chris had in mind, but she knew it would be something she'd never forget. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for his words.

Chris leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers. "I want you to kiss me," he said, his voice low and commanding.

The room froze, the only sound the erratic beating of her heart. She felt the color drain from her cheeks as she met his gaze, his eyes dark and hungry. For a moment, she couldn't breathe, the weight of his words sinking in. Then, with a slow nod, she leaned in, her heart racing.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if both of them were testing the waters. But as their lips met, something ignited between them, a spark that grew into a flame. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping him tightly as the kiss deepened. Arthur and George watched, their own tension palpable, their eyes flickering between y/n and Chris, their friendship and their desires colliding in a way none of them had anticipated.

Chris's hands slid up her arms, pulling her closer, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips. Y/n's body responded, arching into him as the kiss grew more urgent. The room was a blur of heat and need, the air thick with the scent of arousal and the faint scent of George's burnt lasagna.

When they finally broke apart, they were both panting, their eyes locked. The room was silent, the only sound the crackling of the oven and the thudding of their hearts. Arthur and George watched, their expressions a mix of shock and arousal. Y/n's cheeks were flushed, and she couldn't believe what had just happened.

"Fuck me," George murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "That was..."

"Hot," Arthur finished for him, his eyes glued to the sight of Chris and y/n tangled in a passionate kiss. The atmosphere in the room had shifted so dramatically, it was as if someone had flipped a switch, turning the innocent game of poker into an intense, erotic battleground.

Chris's hand slid down y/n's back, cupping her ass as he deepened the kiss. She gasped into his mouth, the heat of his touch sending a bolt of pleasure through her. The air was thick with the scent of their desire, and she could feel the warmth of Arthur and George's gazes on her exposed skin. The game had evolved into something she'd never expected, but the thrill of it was undeniable.

Breaking away from Chris, she turned to face Arthur, her eyes flicking to his evident arousal. "Looks like you're up," she said, her voice husky with desire. Arthur's cheeks reddened, but he met her gaze, his eyes smoldering.

"What's the forfeit?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n leaned in, her breasts brushing against his bare chest. "You get to kiss me too," she murmured, her breath hot against his ear.

Arthur's eyes widened, and for a moment, she thought he might refuse. But then, with a nod, he leaned in, capturing her mouth in a kiss that was just as fiery as Chris's. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer as their tongues danced together. The room spun around her, the lines between friendship and desire blurring into a haze of passion.

George, not to be left out, approached her from behind, his naked body pressing against her back. She could feel his erection against her, and she shivered with anticipation. "I guess it's only fair," he murmured, his hands sliding around her waist.

The kiss with Arthur grew more urgent, his hands exploring her body as George's lips found the sensitive skin of her neck. She moaned, the sensations overwhelming her. The three of them were entangled in a dance of lust, their friendship forever changed by this night.

As Arthur pulled away, George took his place, his lips brushing against hers. His kiss was gentle at first, but soon grew in intensity, his hands caressing her breasts. She felt a hand slide down her stomach, and she gasped as it reached the apex of her thighs. It was Chris, his fingers teasing her through her damp panties.

The room was a whirlwind of sensations, and y/n was lost in the moment. She couldn't tell where one kiss ended and another began, only knew that she was the center of their attention, the object of their desire. It was thrilling and terrifying all at once.

"Take them off," George murmured, his voice thick with lust.

Y/n's hands trembled as she slid her panties down her legs, stepping out of them. The cold floor sent a shiver through her body, and she felt more exposed than she ever had in her life. But the way the boys were looking at her, with a mix of awe and hunger, made her feel anything but vulnerable.

Chris's hand found her again, his fingers delving into her slick folds. She moaned into George's mouth, the pleasure building within her. Arthur watched, his eyes dark with need. The air was charged with a current of desire that had them all in its grip.

The poker game was forgotten, the kitchen a mess of cards and discarded clothing. The only thing that mattered was the heat between them, the unspoken promises in their eyes. The night had taken a wild turn, and as the three of them moved closer, y/n knew there was no going back. This was a new chapter in their friendship, one filled with passion and the thrill of the unknown.

And she was ready to play her hand.

*****

Chris's fingers worked their magic, sending waves of pleasure through her body. She moaned into George's mouth, her hips bucking against Chris's hand. The sensation was too much, and she felt her orgasm building. Arthur's hand joined the fray, his calloused fingers teasing her nipples, sending jolts of electricity straight to her core.

They were all in this together now, their friendship forever changed by this night of strip poker turned passionate frenzy. Y/n had never felt so desired, so wanted. The kisses grew deeper, more intense, as the three of them explored each other's bodies with an urgency that could no longer be contained.

George's hands roamed her body, his touch setting her skin on fire, while Arthur's kisses grew more demanding. She felt a hand slide down her back, reaching around to cup her ass, and she knew it was Arthur. The thrill of having both of them touch her at once was almost too much to bear.

Chris's touch grew more insistent, and she felt herself climbing towards the edge. She broke away from George's kiss, panting, her eyes meeting Arthur's. "Fuck me," she breathed, the words barely a whisper.

They didn't need any further encouragement. Arthur and George shared a look, and she could see the understanding in their eyes. They knew what she wanted, what they all needed. This was no longer a game; it was a declaration of desire that could no longer be ignored.

With a growl, Arthur picked her up, setting her on the edge of the kitchen table. She spread her legs, her heart racing as she watched him stroke his length. She felt a thrill of desire that made her knees wobble. George stepped aside, his own arousal evident, making room for Arthur to claim her.

Chris stepped back, watching with a hunger that made her insides quiver. "Take her," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Make her scream."

Arthur positioned himself between her thighs, his cock hard and ready. He leaned in, kissing her again, and she felt the tip of him at her entrance. With a gentle push, he slid inside, filling her completely. She gasped, her nails digging into the table as he began to move.

The sensation was exquisite, and she felt the room spin as the pleasure built. George's hands were on her breasts again, his mouth finding her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. The three of them moved together, a symphony of passion that she never wanted to end.

Chris stepped closer, his hand wrapping around his own erection as he watched the scene unfold. "So beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "So fucking beautiful."

Their eyes met, and she knew he was next. The thought of all three of them together was too much, and she felt her orgasm crest, her body tightening around Arthur. He groaned, his thrusts growing more urgent, and she knew he was close too.

With a final, deep kiss, Arthur pulled out, his hand guiding George to take his place. She moaned as George filled her, his grip on her hips tight. Arthur stepped back, watching with dark eyes as George began to move, his own hand stroking his shaft.

The room was a blur of sensation, the only sounds their panting breaths and the slap of skin against skin. Y/n felt like she was floating, lost in a sea of pleasure that she never wanted to escape from. This was a night that would change everything, a night that would be etched into their memories forever.

And as George's rhythm grew more frantic, as she felt him getting closer, she knew that she was ready for whatever came next. The world outside their flat had ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the heat between them, the passion that had been unleashed by a simple game of poker.

The climax hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her body and leaving her trembling. She cried out, her nails digging into George's shoulders as she came, her body shaking with the force of it. And as George followed suit, filling her with his release, she couldn't help but feel a sense of power and belonging she'd never experienced before.

Chris stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers as he stroked himself. "Your turn," she managed to gasp, her voice hoarse with need. He grinned, a wicked glint in his eye, and she felt a thrill of excitement as George pulled out, making way for Chris to take his place.

Their kiss was explosive, a culmination of all the tension that had been building through the night. She felt Chris's cock nudge against her, and she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer. He entered her with a groan, his movements more deliberate, more intense than the others. The sensation was almost too much, and she arched her back, her breasts pressing against his chest.

Their bodies moved in sync, the table rocking beneath them with every thrust. Arthur and George watched, their own desires reflected in their eyes as they stroked themselves, their gazes never leaving the erotic sight of their friend taking charge. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated passion, a moment that would forever change the dynamics of their friendship.

Chris's hands were everywhere, exploring every inch of her exposed skin, sending shivers down her spine. She could feel his need, his desire, and it only served to fuel her own. The room was a cacophony of gasps and moans, the air thick with the scent of sex.

And then, with a final, deep kiss, Chris reached his peak, his body tensing as he came inside her. They held each other for a moment, their breathing ragged, their hearts pounding in unison. It was a silent acknowledgment of the shift in their relationship, a moment of pure, unbridled connection.

As they pulled apart, the room was bathed in the soft glow of the kitchen lights, their bodies slick with sweat and desire. The poker night had turned into something none of them could have anticipated, a night that would be remembered for far more than just the game.

They stood there, panting, their eyes locked. The silence was deafening, filled only with the sound of their heavy breaths and the distant hum of London outside. They'd crossed a line, stepped into a new chapter of their friendship.

Y/n looked around the room, her eyes taking in the sight of her friends, naked and aroused, their friendship forever altered by this night of passion. But as she saw the hunger in their eyes, she knew it was a change she didn't regret. In fact, she was eager to see where this newfound intimacy would lead them.

The game had ended, but the night was far from over. They had each other, and as they moved closer, the whispers of desire grew louder, the kisses deeper. They were no longer just friends playing a game; they were lovers, ready to explore the depths of their desires

*****

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thebestofoneshots · 6 months ago

Text

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8.7 K Warnings: MAJOR ANGST / I’m about to angst you with an angst that you’ve never been angst with before. Prompt: Vixen believes she's in the middle, and she hates the idea of stopping any of her boys from being happy. This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it

Chapter 53: Too Much Love Will KiII You

How would it be if you were standing in my shoes? Can't you see that it's impossible to choose No, there's no making sense of it Every way I go I'm bound to lose

The day went by as you’d expect. James didn’t take long to also walk upstairs and join the three of you in a poker game that Remus had taught you how to play. Cards weren’t that big in the wizarding world, especially not poker because of how easy they were to enchant and how hard they were to charmproof. But Remus had managed to charm his deck with a spell so riddled, it would take more time than the one you had in one game to actually crack it.

Besides, neither you nor did any of the boys want to cheat. Not when poker was so godric damned entertaining, and certainly not with how fun it was to see Sirius lose to you, James and Remus all the time. He couldn’t bluff, even if he wanted to.

It’s not that Sirius was a bad liar per se, in fact, if he played against anyone other than you three (even against Peter who had always been a little absent-minded) he would have easily tricked them, unfortunately for him, his two best friends and his girlfriend were too good at uncovering his inner intentions.

It was in the little twitch of an eye, in the way he put effort into trying to maintain a straight face, in the way he would look you in the eye or avoid it.

“Raise,” Sirius said and placed another sickle into the money cauldron you had placed on the bed. The four of you were sitting. James had pulled out a chair, Sirius was sitting by Remus and you were on the other side of the bed, where you made sure no one could see your cards.

You gave Remus a look, he shook his head. “I fold,” you said.

“Me too,” James agreed, he hadn’t seen Remus and your interaction, Sirius’ face had been enough, he could almost smell the confidence oozing from his friend.

Sirius smiled as he brought down his cards, three Aces. It had been a brilliant move to call it, Remus had called earlier, since he’d gotten a meagre pair of threes, and you had two jacks, but there was nothing on the table to help you besides that.

Sirius smiled and brought the money to his side, letting the little bronze coins twinkle and be a mess in his lap while Remus sighted. His and yours were neatly accommodated in stacks. “‘Nother round?” James asked as he munched on some popcorn that Mellie had brought. You had some chocolate on your lap and you opened the package.

“Mhm,” you agreed, you were about to give a bite to your chocolate when Sirius leaned over Remus’ legs and beat you to it, “Oi!”

He turned to you with a pair of puppy eyes and a little pout. You sighed in disbelief and then he leaned over and pressed a short kiss to your lips before he pulled back. You were startled by his sudden action, and your eyes almost instantly turned to Remus, whose gaze was fixated on Sirius as he munched on the rest of the chocolate and picked up the cards to shuffle them.

You swallowed, you hated the butterflies in your stomach because no matter how delighted Sirius’ kisses made you feel, you knew they were making your best friend upset. You bit your lip as you looked at them both, at the way Remus attentively looked at Sirius’s hands. It was easy to justify such a stare, he wanted to make sure Sirius wouldn’t cheat, but you knew the real reason behind it. Sirius had nice hands, you had stared at his hands before, and damn he was dexterous with them.

“You’re doing it wrong,” James said, and took the cards from Sirius’ hands, Remus broke his stare and looked up almost nervously, meeting yours, you offered him a soft smile and turned to James who had made a mess of the cards. You bit your lip trying not to smile and picked Sirius’ wand from the side, waving it over the mess, the cards floated and then neatly arranged themselves on a stack.

“Thanks, Vix,” he said, taking them in his hands before he proceeded to shuffle them. Once he was satisfied enough with the shuffling, he started to deal. You got a card first, then Sirius, he handed one to Remus and then he pressed one over his lap.

By the time James finished dealing the cards, you had already taken a look at your stack, and it took a great deal of effort not to let your eyes shine when he placed the first card from the stack onto the table. Good game.

This one drew out for longer, either everyone else had a great stack, or they were bluffing, so you had to pay attention to them, James seemed slightly nervous when you raised for the third time, and he swallowed before placing money on the cauldron. Remus looked confident, but you’d recently gotten a lot better at reading him, and you didn’t think he actually had a great game.

As for Sirius, the three of you already knew he was bluffing, which is why perhaps the two other boys were still raising you. Sirius had an overly confident smile on his face, but he had not stopped tapping his finger over his knee since James placed the second card on the table. You thought it was adorable that he hadn’t quite realised what he was doing yet either.

“Raise,” you said.

Sirius placed more money on the centre along with Remus and you. James called at that point, not revealing his game yet, but placing his cards on the bed with a rather defeated air as he grabbed a fist of popcorn and brought it to his face.

Remus raised along with you. Sirius threw a nervous look at you, taking in your confident stance and taking in a deep breath. “Raise,” he said, a challenging look on his face.

You placed a couple more coins in the centre without much thought. Remus did the same, enjoying the tension between you and Sirius. You were eyeing each other in such a solemn manner that it was hard for him to hold back a laugh. Even if he lost, it didn’t matter at this point, he just loved your little concentrated faces.

“All or nothing?” Sirius said as he swallowed.

“Sure,” you said.

“Vixen that’s–” James said when he realised what you were about to do, he wasn’t sure Sirius was bluffing anymore. But you were.

“Shhh, you’re out of it, Prongs,” Remus said as he too pushed his stash onto the table.

James tilted his head to the side and looked at the three of you nervously. “Well then, show your cards,” he urged.

You took yours but then Sirius stopped both you and Remus by placing his hands on your arms. Remus gave his hand a look and you turned to him with a frown “I raise again.”

“You can’t raise again, all the money is in the pot,” you said matter of factly. “Well, the cauldron,” you added as you pointed at the pile.

“Never said I’d raise with money, Étoile,” he responded. Sirius was in the deep end. He had a pair of fours and a bunch of other useless cards. He had to get you to fold somehow. “Whoever loses, stays shirtless for the rest of the day.”

“I can’t really take off my bandages,” Remus said as he threw Sirius a look.

“Fold then,” Sirius answered with a satisfied smile.

“Twat,” he responded and threw his cards into the bed. “You don’t have to comply with it, Luv. Sirius is desperate.”

“You’re out of it, Moons,” Sirius retorted and turned to you with a daring look.

“Shirtless, the rest of the day?”

“You’re more than welcome to fold if you don’t believe in your hand, that is.”

“Sirius I don’t think–” James started but Sirius threw him a look.

“Fine,” you smiled. “Whoever loses has to stay shirtless.”

Remus groaned and covered his face with his eyes. He knew Sirius was bluffing, but he wasn’t sure if you were bluffing too, and he had seen Sirius shirtless plenty of times, he wasn’t sure he was ready to see you shirtless though. “Little Witch, can you never back down from a fight?”

“Nope,” you said with a smile. “I’m confident in this one.”

“Yeah, well me too. I raise you again–”

“Shut up Sirius and show your cards now, she’s not going to fold and I don’t need people walking naked in my house,” Prongs said.

Time for showdown, you thought as you looked at Sirius and placed your cards on the table. He knew he was doomed the minute he spotted your king, a perfect match for the one on the bed, not to mention the three queens beside him.

“Fuck,” he said as he left his card on the bed too. “I thought you were trying to bluff.”

“Vix is cunning, but no one in her right mind would have accepted your stupid raise if they didn’t know they were gonna win,” James said.

Sirius sighed and took off his shirt and threw it your way, you had also seen him shirtless a couple of times, and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t look good, even if he was thinner than both James and Remus. You pulled his shirt from your face and smiled when you realised it was the Bowie shirt he liked to wear all the time.

Sirius placed both of his arms around his torso, the chill of the open window was enough to make him shiver, you took the cauldron with money and placed its contents into your front pocket, you hadn’t thought just how useful the overalls would be when you bought them.

“I’m keeping this one,” you said as you motioned to his shirt, he gaped at you.

“That wasn’t the deal!”

“Was it him or me the one that decided to put clothes into the pot?” you asked, turning to the two other boys as you did.

“I think it was Padfoot, wasn’t it?” Prongs teased.

“I’m most definitely sure it was him,” Remus agreed with a smile. Sirius groaned in response.

“I’m not a petty winner,” you said as you untied the jumper you’d been wearing from around your shoulders and threw it his way. “Take this, we don’t want you to freeze.

Remus tried not to laugh at the face Sirius made when he caught the jumper and held back a smile when Sirius put on his jumper. Sirius didn’t steal his jumpers as often as you did, he always had his jacket around, and Remus would be lying if he said seeing Sirius wearing his clothes didn’t make him feel stuff.

“Doesn’t look bad on you,” you teased.

“Doesn’t smell as bad as I thought it would,” he retorted. “You’ve been wearing it for days.”

You gasped at that and pushed him lightly. Remus turned to pick up his deck while you and Sirius continued to bicker and really tried not to eye Sirius again.

Sunday, January 9th, 1977

Remus had stayed on the bed and both you and Sirius had turned into your animagus so you could fit alongside him, it was undoubtedly comfortable, almost like things were settling back into normal. But of course, they were not normal, and they couldn’t be. Not after everything that had happened. Not now that you knew things that you weren’t supposed to know.

You had woken up at some point during the night, and you tried to ignore the pang in your heart when you noticed Sirius had turned back during the night again, and he was nuzzling into Remus’ shoulder in the same way you sometimes nuzzled into yours. You weren’t sure he looked nearly as comfortable in your arms as he did in his.

You stared at the two of them for a minute before you turned your head and wrapped your tail around yourself. Trying to find comfort in its fluffy embrace, as you swallowed. You really had been too blind, it had been there all the time. You’d taken pictures of it, you’d thought it was funny and adorable, you teased Sirius for it for fucks sake, how did you not see it before?

It had always been right in front of your eyes. You weren’t sure you had ever felt more stupid. Remus was asleep, but he somehow sensed your stirring on the bed and instantly placed his hand over your back, gently brushing his fingers over your fur, like he had done so many times during those nights when you could barely sleep back in his parent’s cottage.

He was the best friend you’d ever had, and here you were, making him miserable, making both him and your boyfriend miserable. Feeling terrible over it, you jumped down from the bed and allowed yourself to lay close to the fire. Trying not to think how nice it had been that one time when Remus had walked right beside you and wrapped the two of you with the covers. You really didn’t deserve him, you didn’t deserve to cry on his lap, not when you were the main cause of his heartache. Not when you were the one impeding his love to come into fruition.

Perhaps you really were as terrible as you had said yourself to be back then when you could only think about what you’d done at the Christmas Party. Remus had convinced you otherwise, but he was probably wrong. It had all been your fault, and your mother was dеad and the person you’d tried to save hadn’t even made it out alive. You really had made everything worse, and perhaps you were doing that here too.

Perhaps that was something inherent to you, something that you couldn’t shake out. Perhaps you just carried misery with you in the same way James carried fun, Sirius carried love and Remus carried comfort. Maybe you had been cursed and you didn’t know about it, maybe it was the fae blood, cursed for mixing with wizards.

“Hey, what’s up?” James asked as he sat beside you.

You turned to him surprised, turning into your human form as you looked at him startled. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I was going to the bathroom, saw a little fox moping the corner.”

“Not moping,” you said with a frown. “It was cold.”

“And I’m as brilliant at potions as Dad,” he responded sarcastically. Then pushed you slightly with his shoulder. “Is it about Christmas? Do you wanna talk about that?”

You sighed, “It’s not,” you said honestly. “Not entirely at least.”

“Then?”

“James, if you loved two people, and you knew they loved each other, would you step out of the way and let them be happy without you?”

“What kind of question is that?” he asked with a frown.

“Just something I read in a book,” you lied.

James turned to you as if assessing you, but he couldn’t tell what was going on in your head, you just looked at the fire, and then leaned your head on your knee as you turned to him, “So?”

“Do you really think those two people would be happier if they were together?”

“I don’t know,” you replied. “But the main character knows they could never test their love if they’re in the middle.”

“Well, I guess I’d leave. Wouldn’t you?”

“Even if you love one of them?”

“Didn’t you say it was both?” James asked, confused.

“I mean– yeah. Just not the same kind of love, I guess.”

“What kind of book are you reading?” James asked with a frown.

You tried not to panic, “It’s a muggle book, Russian, and very cheesy, you wouldn’t like it.”

“What did the main character do?”

“Haven’t read that part yet.”

“Well, I think he should do the right thing, don’t you?”

“Probably,” you said as you let out a long sigh. James was now bouncing his leg right next to you. “Weren’t you going to the bathroom?”

“Yeah,” he said as he stood up. “Just wanted to check up on you, I’m glad you’re upset over a book and not something else.”

“Yeah,” you said with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes, perhaps if there had been more light, and James wasn’t as blind as a Wilddeoren without his glasses he would have noticed. “I guess I got really invested.”

Finally, he left towards the bathroom, you turned back into Vixen and returned to the bed, staying near the side rather than climbing back onto Remus’ chest.

When you woke up again, Sirius was looking at you with a smile. “Ready for the party?”

“Isn’t that in a couple of hours?” you asked.

“But it’s going to be so much fun! Monty said we could raid his alcohol stash as long as Effie didn’t notice.”

You smiled, if James was as much of a troublemaker as he was, it was because both Monty and Effie took turns to allow him to do stuff without the other noticing. He’d learned how to fly when he was five behind Monty’s back, and he’d been allowed to drink since he turned 14, behind Effie’s.

“How nice of him,” you replied. “What’s for breakfast?”

“I think he's preparing some pancakes for us. James and Remus are helping.”

“James is helping?”

“He’s good, you’d be surprised,” Sirius said with a laugh. His teeth gleamed as the beam of sun from the window fell on his face. You allowed your head to rest on the pillow as you looked at him. He was stupidly pretty. You were about to lean closer to him when Picksie approached a few feet behind Sirius.

“Master Fleamont says the food is ready,” She said with her squeaky little voice.

It was hard not to laugh at the face Sirius made, he knew he was getting a kiss before she appeared, but after a defeated sigh he stood up and extended his hand for you to take, “You’re coming, Étoile?”

The hours flew by a lot faster than you expected. James was absolutely thrilled about Lily coming over to his house for the first time and he didn’t shut up about it all through breakfast. Effie seemed keenly interested in meeting the girl –officially– and Monty was a little worried as a dad who had utter confidence in his child.

You were all sitting in the living room, already changed into party clothes, that being a simple skirt, the shirt you’d won at poker (to rub it on Sirius), and a jumper Moony had thrown your way when he saw it was snowing again. Remus and Sirius were playing magic chess while you read a book and James had dozed off on the couch just next to you –he’d been trying to read a book to impress Lily and it wasn’t going that well.

Sirius was looking at Remus as he made his next move, the taller boy had both of his arms folded over his chest and was biting his lip as he drew all the scenarios in his head. There was a softness in his gaze that you hadn’t noticed before, something akin to admiration, but so much more than that. He realised you were staring and he shot you a wink.

“Horse F5,” Remus said, and his horse moved to break one of Sirius’ pawns into pieces.

“Were you just waiting for me to get distracted?” Sirius scoffed.

“Well, it’s not my fault you were looking at Vixen while I decided to make a move,” Remus responded with a shit-eating grin. He had, indeed, been waiting.

“Jerk,” Sirius complained and turned back to the chessboard. His tower was just a few blocks from the horse and he could destroy him, but Remus had made sure to move his horse near one of his pawns. If Sirius took revenge, he would lose his tower as well, and this time he’d be losing to a pawn. He huffed and made a different move.

You looked at the two of them after that, just paying attention to the way they played, at just how comfortable they seemed to be around each other. You hated it, not how happy they were, that was delightful, it filled your heart with joy to see them smiling and joking around.

Both of them –although one had a loud personality– had a gloomy atmosphere that they seemed to carry along at all times. While Remus tended to be quiet and reserved, and Sirius played jokes to mask his feelings, both of them had a sort of dolefulness deeply embedded within them. You’d seen it when you looked at them in the halls and when they had been apart from the rest of their friends for a while.

You noticed when they were around James it lifted, and how could it not? James’ personality was warm and welcoming enough to melt even the most frozen of people, but even that, was nothing compared to what you were seeing just now. The way they joked, the way they talked, it was absolutely fascinating how much they cared for each other.

And then there was you, you made them happy too, you weren’t stupid enough not to notice, but it was when they were both together that that dolefulness seemed to lift almost completely from their shoulder as if it never had been there in the first place as if there had never been a tragic backstory burdening their minds.

What you were too stupid to see back then, was that whenever you saw that, the magic that seemed to be almost buzzing through both boys as they chatted and joked together was that even though they were interacting with one another, you were also in the room.

John Berger once said, "Every spectator is a participant”. And really, without your participation in such scenes, the result wouldn’t have been the same. The perfect atmosphere that you seemed to admire so much, the peak of mood that made your heart ache for their longing for each other, was only there because you were there too.

But with the thoughts clouding your mind, with the things that had happened in Christmas and with the self-loathing that you couldn’t shake no matter what you tried, no matter how many people called you brave, you were far from seeing the truth. Too wrapped up in your inner turmoil, in your own struggle to think of yourself as anything other than chaos, that you were far closer to worrying yourself to dеath with despair than from seeing the truth so clearly displayed behind the dull fabric of self-hatred you’d placed over yourself.

You thought you were so smart, and yet you were about to make a move more stupid than the King to C6 that had gotten Sirius straight into the checkmate Moony had been cornering him into the entire game.

The bell rang, snapping you out of your thoughts, you turned your face towards the door and left the glass you had in your hand near the table where Remus and Sirius had been playing wizard’s chess. James had dozed off on the couch and rather than waking him up, you thought of attending the door yourself.

Marlene was on the other side of the door, hair shorter than it had been before, and a huge smile on her face when you were the first thing she saw. She rushed to hug you. “I’m so happy to see you’re here,” she said with a sigh. “You know I’m on your side, right? Always.”

“Have they been talking about me on the papers?” you asked, not wanting to hear the answer, but asking anyway.

“Your father talked to the press,” she breathed, “he said you… he said you ran away from home after your mother passed and he said he was looking for you and hoping you came back home soon. That’s what your mother would have wanted. It also sounded a bit like you had been partly to blame for the fire.”

You held back a sad scoff. He wasn’t saying anything that wasn’t true. Except he had omitted the fact he had tortured her, and forced you to find a distraction. “Of course, he would,” you sighed. “At least Dumbledore knows what actually happened.”

“You– trust him?”

“He might not have whatever happens to us in his best interest, Marlene. I know he cares about stopping them more than anything. But… we’re fighting for the same cause… and I think he cares, even if it’s just a little.”

“The war…”

You sighed and then shook your head, replacing the strained expression you had with a smile. “But that’s not why we’re here. We’re celebrating a new year and we’re not going to dwell on the sad stuff, now while we’re together.”

Marlene seemed hesitant about your quick change, but upon realising it was your only way of coping, she nodded and mirrored your reaction. The moment she walked into the room she went straight to wake James up and told him off –jokingly– about being a terrible host and letting his guests do all the hosting for him.

Poor James looked so confused the minute Marlene showed up that he stood up and got everyone snacks and something to drink. Slowly but surely the house started to fill up with your friends. Mary and Lily came together since Effie had gone to get them so they could all apparate back in the house, Tom arrived by Floo and Beth rode a broom since she didn’t leave too far from the Potters.

It really was more of a small gathering than a party, only the close group of Gryffindors had been invited since James’ parents were still hesitant about the entire thing getting too big and accidentally ending up with dеatheaters at their doorstep. But it was perfect, nonetheless. Seeing your friends was lifting up your spirits.

Lily had gone straight to hug you when she arrived and the boys wouldn’t stop teasing James about it, he was clever enough to retort Sirius’ comments by reminding him that you had once said you were into redheads and he was the one that should be worried.

“If we start dating, you can just date each other,” Lily added to the joke to which James made the face of someone who was actually considering it and Sirius made one disgusted.

“That would be like dating Regulus,” James said and got shoved by Sirius who said something about being more handsome than his brother.

Still, you didn’t miss the way Sirius’ gaze flickered, looking for Remus who was talking to Mary in one of the corners. You took a deep breath after that and thought –stupidly– the only solution to the thoughts currently tormenting you, would be alcohol. You walked towards the improv drink section they had created and poured yourself some of the ice vodka James had snatched from Monty’s stash. He’d charmed the flask so he could fill an entire bottle inside and gave it to you when Lily asked him to dance.

You debated on whether to add anything else and decided against it, although it tasted fantastic with Mellie’s lemon juice (you had tried it last night when the boys convinced you and Remus to play Monopoly again but this time wasted so they had a better chance of winning– Remus won anyway). But you wanted the punch the drink would give you more than the taste. You downed the glass like a shot and served yourself another bit, this time actually adding the Lemon Juice.

“How come you’re not all over Sirius?” Tom asked as he approached you. “He looks incredible today.”

You huffed in response, taking another sip of your cup, and mumbling a short “I know.” The problem was, Remus knew too. You had seen him gaze at him more times than you could count. He had gazed at you too, the skirt you chose to wear not helping him with his rather active imagination, so instead he tried to look anywhere else. He did not want to be a perv, let alone be caught checking his best friend’s girlfriend out.

“You okay?” he asked, confused.

“Yeah, yeah,” you responded with a sigh. “I’ve been thinking too much, I think.”

“Want something to think less?” he asked as he took out a small flask from his front pocket. Not big enough for alcohol, but certainly big enough for a good potion.

What a terrible idea that was. “What is it?”

“New creation, been working on it over the break. Kind of like the potion at Halloween but with a few tweaks here and there.”

“Is it good?”

“Haven’t tried it yet… So, you want it?”

You had a mission, you had to figure out what to do, not that you wanted to have that mission, and not that you wanted to figure it out either, every choice seemed like the wrong one, every turn and you’d hurt someone (yourself included). You were tired, you just wanted things to be like before… before you knew.

Selfish, a small voice in your head shouted, that’s selfish.

“If you knew two people were in love, and you were in the middle of it. But these are two people who are basically made for each other, and they’ve known the other for longer than they’ve known you, would you step out of the way?” You asked him, eerily similar to what you’d asked James in the middle of the night. Perhaps more perspective could help you.

Tom pulled the flask back into his pocket and gave you a confused look. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” you lied, snapping out of it. “A book I was reading… The potion?”

He placed his hand on his pocket, then on his back pockets. “Sorry, Slysprite, I must have misplaced it.”

“I really could have used some of it,” you added with a laugh. And that was exactly why there was no way in hell Tom would give it to you, he was tempted to take the beverage from your hands as well, but he was half scared of what an angry you would do, so decided to leave that to someone who was way closer.

“I think Remus is looking for you,” Tom said as he pushed you towards him and left you on the sofa next to the boy. “Mary, darling, care to dance?”

She smiled and grabbed Tom’s hand, leaving you and Remus alone. Sirius was off playing potion pong with Marlene, although they hadn’t actually used any potions and were using booze instead.

You let your head fall on the back of the sofa, sliding a few inches down and sighing. Remus leaned over your frame to give you a better look while ignoring your skirt and how much it had ridden up. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern laced in his tone. He grabbed the cup from your hands and brought it to his nose, smelling the contents before wincing. It was more vodka than lemon juice. “How many of these have you had so far?”

“Not that many,” you replied, which wasn’t a lie. “I’m not drunk.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said simply. “You’re… upset. Is it the party? You want to leave?”

“No, not at all,” you said. “I love seeing everyone happy. Did you see Prongs and Lily? I’m pretty sure he strategically placed mistletoe all over the doors so he could steal as many kisses from her as possible. She seems as delighted as he is.”

Then why do you look upset? Remus thought, not wanting to ask yet.

“You sure?” he asked as he poked your cheek.

You opened your eyes, first just a little and then you focused on him. He looked concerned, very concerned, you could tell he cared about you an insane amount. It made the guilt even stronger, here he was, so concerned over you and your pain while you were constantly causing him heartache. Both of them had to steer away from the other because of you.

You smiled. “You know I’d go to the ends of the earth for you, right?” you said as you placed a hand on his cheek, brushing one of his scars with your thumb and holding him in place when he was taken aback by your words.

“What?”

“I want you to be happy too.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked as he took your hand from his cheek and held it in his, a frown etched on his beautiful features. Even now, you were causing him pain.

“Nothing,” you said. “I know… I know what’s making you so upset, I’ll stop that.”

“What?!” Remus asked, a hint of panic in his voice that brought you back to reality, away from his hypnotising brown eyes and puppy-like gaze, you didn’t blame Sirius, you couldn’t blame him. In the same way, you couldn’t blame Remus.

“Nothing,” you repeated, this time more dismissively than before, “I must have had too much to drink… you want some?” you added as you looked for the glass that was now on the table, took it in your hands and offered it to him.

Remus frowned and took the glass from your hands. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Hmm?” you asked, turning back to him, Sirius had been looking at the both of you with interest. You would have to talk to him. “Yeah, totally. You know Tom made a new potion.”

Remus sighed when he heard that. Now things made sense. You weren’t lying. You knew Remus could sometimes smell a lie of yours from miles away, so you decided to tell the truth. Tom had made a new potion, you never said you had drunk it.

“I’ll get you some water,” Remus said as he stood up and walked towards the kitchen.

Sirius was already there, looking through James’ secret snack stash to find something salty, he was really craving something salty. “Is she okay?” he asked.

“She drank something Tom made,” Remus said simply. “I think she’s okay, just saying some weird stuff.”

“Like what?” Sirius quipped curiously.

“Some nonsense about making me happy,” Remus responded, he’d taken a glass from the cupboard and was now filling it on the sink.

“Mhm?” Sirius asked as he pulled a bag of fizzing whizbees and turned to Remus. “Maybe she’s just thankful for everything that you’ve done for her lately, wants to make it up to you.”

“There’s nothing to make up for,” Remus said simply and caught the small ball Sirius had thrown his way with his left. “What’s with this?”

“You look like you need some candy,” Sirius said as he took a step closer to Remus. “You’re kind of pale.” Sirius was now so close to Remus he could see the freckles that hid beneath his scars. “Maybe you should eat a bit more.”

Remus took a step back. What was with you and Sirius? Both seemed to have this unworldly desire to touch him today, he could barely find a way to run away.

“I’m perfectly fine,” Remus said and plopped the fizzing whizbee on his mouth, he started floating shortly after. “Fucking hell.” It was more of an exasperated curse than anything else.

Sirius laughed, reached for Remus’ hand and pulled him down. Ignoring entirely how well it felt to have Remus’ hand in his. “Didn’t think you’d eat it,” he said with a short shrug, still not letting go of Remus’ hand.

“Maybe you should talk to her instead,” he said, turning back to the sofa, but you weren’t there anymore. He frowned.

“Care to share?” you asked. Remus turned to you with a mortified expression and snapped his hand away from Sirius, floating back up for a second, until he coughed a couple of times and went back down.

Sirius looked at Remus diverted, and smiled even further when he handed the glass of water to Sirius and excused himself by saying he needed to go to the bathroom. You looked at Sirius, at the way his eyes trailed behind Remus before fixating on you. He had never looked at James like that. He had never looked at any of his other friends like that. In fact, you might dare say, the only person he had ever given than look, was you.

He then walked towards you, there was a table in between the two, but he extended his hand with a small red ball towards you.

We should talk, you thought as you took what he offered.

Rather than taking the candy to your mouth, you placed it on the table and turned back to look at Sirius. He was as beautiful as always. Long lashes, stunning grey eyes, hair curling around his face in that angelic and yet somehow devilish look he had going on.

His gaze was as lost on you as yours was on him, but while his thoughts were filled with you, yours were filled with suspicion of the feelings you knew he harboured for someone else. You rounded the table to walk right in front of him and took the glass of water from his hands before bringing it to your lips. You took a long and gentle sip before pulling it down again and looking at Sirius.

“You like him, don’t you?” you said, voice steady, somehow steadier than you’d thought you’d manage.

“What!?” Sirius asked, confused. There was a hint of panic in his voice as if he knew he’d been found out but was trying to hide it anyway.

“Remus,” you said simply, as if it were the most natural thing ever –it was.

You saw him tense, and you smiled, reassuringly in return. “It’s in your gaze, Sirius. You look at him the same way you looked at me when we met. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

He placed both hands on your arms, shaking you to look at him instead of the door. Desperate, Sirius was desperate. “But I don’t love you any less.”

You smiled, a sad sort of smile that Sirius hated to see on your face. But he hated himself more for hurting you, for making you feel like you were not enough, for allowing you to see how desperate he was for love that even when he had it, he craved more of it.

“I’m sure you don’t,” you said, placing your hand on his cheek. He leaned into it instantly. Like he did all the time. Almost brushing his head onto your hand. There was a conflicted frown on his soft features, tears threatening to form. “Hey,” you said simply, he leaned his head onto your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… I should have been better at hiding it, you must think I’m the worst person in the entire universe.”

“Of course not,” you said as you scratched his scalp the way you knew would calm him. “You just fell in love.”

“With my straight best friend,” he said. “Just…” he sniffed. “I’m sure I’ll get over it. It might just be my way of discovering I’m like you and Tom.”

“Bisexual?” you offered.

“Yes, that,” Sirius didn’t dare to say the word. “I’m sure Moony’s just an outlet, I can’t be in love with him, I love you.”

You swallowed, he wasn’t making it any easier. You really didn’t want to do it, you hated the idea of losing him, but he deserved to be happy, they both did. “He’s not straight.”

“What?” he asked.

“He’s not straight,” you repeated. “Remus, he… he likes boys too.”

Sirius pulled his head from your hand and looked at you with the most bewildered expression you had seen on him, “What?”

“More specifically, he likes you.”

“No,” he said as he shook his head. You nodded in response. “What about Alice?”

“He started going out with her after Halloween, remember? What exactly were you doing on Halloween?”

“I was dancing with you and–” it seemed like Sirius had seen things from the outside for the first time ever. “Merlin! He did it because I was– Because I was with you.”

“And your sudden urge for kisses?” You added, your eyes were watery, you had to take deep breaths to hold the tears back, to stay calm. You’d analysed most of your interactions together by now, everything you remembered. Sirius had liked Remus for far longer than he’d even realised he had.

“No, that wasn’t the reason. I wanted to kiss you.”

“I’m certain you did,” you said with a smile. It was that same sad smile you had been prompting since the start of the conversation.

“Look at me,” Sirius said as he shook your shoulders again. “I love you. I love you and you need to understand that. I’m not going to leave you for him. No matter how incredible he might be. No matter if he likes me. I love you.”

And you knew he would. But it wouldn’t be worth it, it wouldn’t be fair for any of you. You’d told Remus you would do anything for him. He had saved your life, he had cared for you when you were hurt, and he would have gone to the ends of the earth to make you smile. How could you pay him back if you tied Sirius down to you? When you tied him down knowing he liked Remus too?

“I know,” you said reassuringly. And you did, you never doubted Sirius’ love for you, it was just as undeniable as his love for Remus. Sirius had such a big heart, he could love and love and he deserved all the love, all of it. He deserved Remus’ love. And you weren’t sure he’d ever be able to enjoy it if you were in the middle of it. You wanted him to be happy, you wanted both of them to be, even if it was in each other’s arms, and not in yours.

Sirius pulled you into a kiss, desperate to show you how much he loved you. You kissed him back, but you were soft and tender in comparison to his desperate breaths. Sirius realised too late the kind of kiss you were giving him.

“Don’t do that,” he said as he pulled away.

You rubbed your thumb over his cheek. Sirius was terrified now. Terrified that the one thing he thought would happen if you found out would actually happen, that you would leave him. But in this case, you weren’t leaving him because you were mad, you didn’t even seem angry at all, it was more like you wanted to step out of the way.

“Stop it,” he repeated, now petulantly, almost like a child. “Don’t be good, don’t be the hero. Be selfish! Be selfish, be selfish for me.”

The more Sirius talked, the harder it was for you to continue. You wanted to be selfish, you wanted to keep him, but not at the expense of other’s pain, not at the expense of Remus’. Remus and Sirius needed love, and you could only make them both happy if you allowed them to give it to each other, or so you thought.

Sirius leaned in to kiss you again but this time you moved your mouth out of the way, placing a soft kiss on his cheek instead. You could feel the wet hot tears dampen your lips as you kissed him. At first, you weren’t sure who they belonged to, but you had somehow managed to hold yours in this far.

Sirius whispered your name as he gripped onto your shirt, bunching it up in a futile attempt to hold you. “Please,” he begged. “Please don’t do this. I don’t want him, I will never want him. Please-”

“If only we could choose our nature,” you sighed. “We said we wouldn’t lie to each other, remember?”

“Please,” he pleaded, every muscle on his face turning into the most evident show of agony.

Sirius had never begged to a woman in his entire life, he was ready to go down on his knees and be as pathetic as he needed. Whatever means he had to do to convince you to stay. To not leave him for being so stupid. To not disappear again. You placed both of your hands over his, gently pushing them off your shirt, and pulling him into a hug.

He relaxed as you dug your head into his neck and inhaled the delicious scent so particular of Sirius Black. And then you said it. “Go after him, Sirius.”

He looked at you like you had betrayed him as you pulled apart. He tried to hold onto your arm but you were quicker to move it out of his grasp. Turning your back to him and walking towards the door.

“I love you more. I will always love you more. It’s just a stupid crush, I’m sure it will–” he stopped. He didn’t believe that either, there was no way he’d trick you. You kept walking towards the door. “Please don’t leave me,” Sirius said, tears streaming down his face. “I don’t want to be alone.”

You staggered, the tears you had fought so hard to hold were now streaming down your face, you held back a sob. You didn’t want him to know you were crying too, you wanted to spare him the heartache. You thought of turning around, you thought of running to hug him and tell him things would be all right, telling him that it didn’t matter, that you’d find a solution that made everyone happy. But you knew you were lying to yourself. Remus wouldn’t be happy if you were with Sirius and Sirius wouldn’t be happy if he couldn’t be with Remus either. It was best to step out of the way before it was too late.

Before you wouldn’t be able to pull away even if you wanted to. You could barely do it now.

You took a deep, trembling breath and then willed your mouth to still again before you spoke, “You won’t be alone, Sirius. Go and talk to him.”

Sirius’ despair had now transformed to anger, he stalked your way and made you turn around in a harsh movement so uncharacteristic of him and the way he touched you all the time that you looked at him with shock.

“I’m not going to let you run away from this like you’ve been running away from your pain ever since Christmas!”

The harsh truth. Spit into your face with the anguished face of the person that– probably the person that you loved the most.

“I’m sorry,” you said, tilting your head, “I can’t help you.”

“Tell me you don’t love me, and I will stop. I won’t look for you. Go ahead, I dare you.”

Sirius had never been one to keep his temper cool, it was easy to get a rise out of him and you had often done it for fun. Never had it been real, never had you seen him so angry, so wrecked. You were doing this to him.

Your lips trembled. You hated this, you hated causing so much pain to him. You were trying to make him happier, couldn’t he see?

Of course, he couldn’t. Sirius would never fathom a life without you as a happy one. They were an antithesis to each other, and there was no way he’d ever be happy if you weren’t there. If you and Remus weren’t there.

He wouldn’t stop, he wouldn’t go to him if you didn’t do it. You bit your lip, gaze flickering. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Remus. He was talking to Lily, she was laughing and he had a smile on, but it wasn’t a real one, he was upset.

Maybe because you and Sirius were in the kitchen together doing god knows what. Your quivering stilled, your choice had been made easy. You knew what you had to do, and while the pain that Sirius’ broken gaze gave you was unbearable, much worse than cruciatus, you knew, just like that time, why you had to take it and why you were willing to do it.

“I don’t love you, Sirius,” you said, slow, carefully articulating every word, trying to spare them of the feelings you had stuck in your head, of the words desperate to come out: I do, I’m lying, don’t listen to me, I’m lying. “I stopped loving you the second I figured you had feelings for Remus.”

“You’re lying,” Sirius said unconvinced, voice trembling.

“I’m sorry,” you said tilting your head to the side. “You should talk to Remus, though.”

You somehow managed to slip from his grasp and walked towards the stairs. You wiped your tears away, and you were so busy with your task that you didn’t see Remus as you bumped into him. He looked at you, concerned visible in his features the second he realised you had been crying.

“Hey,” he said. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Yes, he deserved to be happy. You swallowed thickly. “Sirius was looking for you.”

“What?” Remus asked, confused.

“Go talk to him.” You added with a smile. “I’m okay, something got on my eye.”

Remus seemed hesitant and then turned to look at the kitchen door. Sirius seemed as upset as you were. As sad and terrified as you looked. He turned to you again, as if trying to ensure he could go instead of staying with you.

“But–”

“I said: go.” The way the words echoed in your brain was disorienting. What was more, was the fact that Remus’ worried stance seemed to dissolve into oblivion as he turned around and walked towards Sirius. When you noticed his blank stare you gasped, covering your mouth with your hand when you realised what you had done.

You couldn’t have, it was impossible. You didn’t have the ability you... Remus kept walking towards Sirius without so much of a glance back.

You had used charmspeak on him

It'll drain the power that's in you Make you plead and scream and crawl And the pain will make you crazy You're the victim of your crime Too much love will kiII you every time

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: Well that was something... I shed a couple of tears (many) while writing it, but you know what this means? The worst of the angst is about to pass and we're finally gonna have the fluflly fluff <3